Planting batteries on Tybee Island. General Gilmore. Listening for the
opening gun. Bombardment of Fort Pulaski. Watching the contest from
Dawfuskie. Surrender of the fort. Its appearance after the bombardment.
While we were engaged in the work described in the last chapter,
General Gilmore was planting his batteries on Tybee Island, which
borders the mouth of the Savannah. These were placed from one to two
miles distant from Fort Pulaski, and in the work of establishing them,
difficulties were encountered similar to those which so thoroughly
tested the skill and endurance of our men on the mud islands above. It
required the combined efforts of two hundred and fifty men to drag a
single mortar from the beach where they were landed, to position, and
as several of the batteries were in plain sight from the fort, the work
was largely done at night, until the embankments afforded sufficient
protection. The fire from the fort was annoying, but less constant and
spirited from the confidence of its commander in its security against
the fire of guns so far distant. The value of rifled cannon for siege
operations at long range was about to be tested, and while the result
in this instance was not entirely to the satisfaction of the commandant
of the fort, it fully justified the confidence of General Gilmore, for
to him belongs the credit of this achievement, from its inception to
its final termination.
By April 6 we became aware that the crisis was approaching, and from
that day anxiously listened for the opening gun.
[Illustration: FORT PULASKI.]
On the 9th, a demand was made for the surrender of the fort, to
which the commandant replied, "I was placed here to defend, not to
surrender." And he had an opportunity, for on the morning of the 10th
the boom of cannon was heard, and from that time until about two
o'clock of the afternoon of the following day, the batteries kept
up a steady and constant fire. On the first day we could discover
little effect, as we watched the progress of the contest from the
shore of Dawfuskie, but the next day the frequent clouds of dust
arising, especially from the southwest angle of the fort, indicated
that progress was being made. During the night the firing had been
continued, with intervals of about fifteen minutes, permitting little
rest to the garrison, and effectually preventing all attempts to repair
or strengthen the fort, and in the morning all the batteries opened and
kept up a terrific cannonade, until the white flag appeared. Throughout
the day the shore was lined with the excited soldiers, especially in
the vicinity of Munger's, where a few of us secured places in a large
willow tree overhanging the water, and affording an unobstructed view
of the conflict. It was not long before a large breach was visible,
which gradually widened as the day advanced. The firing from the fort
was spirited, but had little effect. Several times the flagstaff was
cut away by our shot, and as often replaced, until about 2 P.M. of the
11th, when the firing ceased. Still, we were ignorant of the exact
state of affairs, until an accident revealed the fact that the fort had
surrendered. A sailing vessel was seen slowly drifting towards it. A
steamer followed, apparently for the purpose of rendering assistance,
but for some reason she seemed to be unmanageable, and gradually
approached and passed the fort without drawing its fire. By this we
knew that Pulaski was ours, and another entrance for blockade runners
was closed.
[Illustration: BREACH IN FORT PULASKI.]
Soon after its surrender, the officers were from time to time allowed
to visit it. One bright morning, after the details for the day had
been made, in company with several other officers, I was rowed across
the river, and spent the day in the quiet inspection of the fort
and surroundings. The effects of the bombardment were everywhere
visible. Guns were dismounted, bomb-proofs torn and shattered, and the
traverses--great mounds of earth for the protection of the gunners, and
to guard against the effects of enfilading shots--were levelled almost
to the ground. The terre-plein was ploughed and furrowed in every
direction, while wide and deep ditches extended across it, to ward off
the effects of bursting shells. In many places the blandages, which
were heavy timbers inclined against the inner wall, although covered
with earth to the depth of three or four feet, were splintered and
broken, and large sections of the walls themselves destroyed. The angle
against which the heaviest fire had been directed was a gaping mass of
ruins, through which at last the shot and shell drove steadily against
the magazine, threatening to envelop fort and garrison in one common
destruction. It was this danger which compelled the surrender.