The batteries on Tybee Island being already very strongly entrenched
(the mortars out of sight of the fort), everything appeared ready for
the battle. The Seventh Connecticut was assigned the duty of serving
at the mortar batteries and other troops were on duty at the rifled
guns. The work before us seemed no easy task, considering the strength
of the enemy. Fort Pulaski’s walls were seven feet thick and mounted
one tier of guns in embrasures and on _en barbette_. It was a huge
five-sided fortress and was said to have been built by a Connecticut
Yankee. Twenty guns, including 10-inch Columbiads, bore upon our
batteries at Tybee, which had a decidedly unpleasant look. Col.
Olmstead, the commander of Pulaski, was once more and for the last
time invited to surrender; but he sternly refused by saying he was put
there to defend the fort and not surrender it. Our batteries opened
the ball at 8 o’clock on the morning of the 10th of April by a signal
gun from battery Halleck. Simultaneously all the guns and mortars
blazed away with such a deafening roar that the very island itself
seemed to shake in its marshy anchorage. From that hour onward till
the surrender, the artillery fire against the solid masonry of
Pulaski’s walls was terrific. The rebels replied vigorously and in a
determined manner. The smoke was so dense that the sun was obscured.
At a quarter to eleven o’clock the rebel flag-staff was shot away and
the rebel rag tumbled down. This was hailed with intense cheers and
seemed to add new zeal to the soldiers who manned our guns. The
distance between the combatants was at least a mile, yet it was very
evident that nearly all our shots were telling. Our solid shot brought
away great piles of masonry and clouds of brick dust filled the air.
All day long an incessant fire was kept up, and at night the mortar
batteries sent their compliments while the others ceased. At daylight
the next morning the battle was resumed with its accustomed vigor, and
in the early part of the forenoon a large breach was made in the
walls. Guns were dismounted and seen to fall, yet the rebs seemed as
tenacious as ever. Our gunners directed their fire toward the magazine
of the fort in such well-directed shots that the rebels, fearing an
explosion, hoisted the “white flag” at two o’clock, April 11th, and
its appearance was greeted with the wildest enthusiasm. Cheer after
cheer rent the air as victory had once more perched on our banners.
The firing ceased, the smoke cleared away, and then we saw plainly
the great destruction our shells had made. The Seventh Connecticut had
the honor of taking possession of the works and was also awarded the
rebel flag.
After the fall of the fort, Col. Chatfield was ordered to dismantle
Fort Vulcan, on Jones Island, the battery of mud upon which we had
worked with so much zeal. But, by some misunderstanding, our gunboats
were drawn off, which left us in rather an unpleasant predicament, had
the rebels chosen to come from Savannah and attack us. But Col.
Chatfield was equal to any emergency, and with his usual foresight and
calm self-possession, he dismounted the 10-inch columbiad in the night
and floated it on a raft over to Pulaski, where it arrived safely the
next day. In its place we mounted a black log with a barrel on one
end. After our evacuation, Johnnie Reb sallied down the river and
captured the “Quaker.” We resumed our pleasant camping ground on
Dawfuski Island, which was quite a pleasing contrast with that on
Jones Island; but the arduous labors imposed upon the Regiment for the
past few weeks began to tell upon the men and patients at the hospital
were numerous.
We remained here drilling, and with our usual camp duties, till the
last week in May, when we were ordered to report at Hilton Head, again
embarking on that dreaded steamer Cosmopolitan, but did not remain on
board very long this time, for, upon reporting to the General, we
sailed for North Edisto Island, and arrived there in the evening of
May 22d. Large quantities of blackberries were ripe in the field, and
we found them very palatable and we thought they helped Uncle Sam’s
pork to digest. The Brigade under Gen. Wright was here reorganized and
composed of the following troops: 6th Conn.; 47th New York; 55th and
97th Penn. Regiments. We here spent the time in brigade drills and the
usual picket duties till the 1st of June, when we crossed over to
John’s Island. We expected our destination would be somewhere in the
vicinity of Charleston, and were not disappointed. After marching
several miles we halted at a large sugar plantation for rest. Col.
Chatfield addressed us on our mission, and assured us we were marching
on to victory or death, as we were going into the hot bed of rebeldom
and undoubtedly would see some hard fighting; but he was confident we
would meet the issue with determined bravery, and he was to “lead us
forward.” This last remark brought forth cheer after cheer for our
gallant Colonel. The members of the Sixth felt justly proud of Col.
Chatfield.
Our march across John’s Island was slow and tedious, as the guerillas
infested us on all sides. Our cavalry scouts were ever on the alert,
but, as the road was new to them the rebs used every advantage against
us. Our wagon trains were cut off and the command was without food for
three days. Men offered 50 cents for a hard-tack. One soldier offered
to eat a dog if it could be found. A body of cavalry moved to the rear
and assisted greatly in dispersing the guerillas, and we were again
rejoiced to see some salt junk. To add to our discomfort, a drenching
rain storm set in which lasted three days, and while we were without
tents or shelter of any kind except a gum blanket. To skirmish the
woods through the briers and underbrush all day and lay on our arms at
night with our clothes wet through and flesh all parboiled, was not
very agreeable. We were not allowed to build a fire on any condition,
as our near approach to the foe might discover our strength. When we
arrived at the little village of Legareville, on the Stono River,
opposite James Island, we found none to oppose us; all had fled. The
poor shanties that composed the village were the only dry wood
available for fires; we concluded we would confiscate enough to dry
our clothing and cook our pork. As we were now within sight of the
Johnnies, no further seclusion seemed necessary, for in a few days at
least, we expected to “get together,” and we knew we should have more
zeal with a good square meal in our stomach and dry clothes upon our
backs. Our chaplain counted eighty-three fires made on the ground,
with an average of five cups to each fire, cooking pork, bacon and
coffee. Col. Chatfield was assigned to the command of our Brigade, and
on the evening of June 8th, he moved across the river to James Island,
which is only about four and a half miles from Charleston. We rested
for the night on Tom Grimball’s plantation. The enemy attacked us the
next night in our front, but were repulsed after a brisk skirmish of
an hour’s duration. The Connecticut battery was here, doing excellent
service under Captain Rockwell, and the gun boats shelled the enemy
over our heads, both of which proved valuable assistants to us. The
Sixth held the advance picket line on the left for several days, and
the rebels annoyed us exceedingly by sudden dashes through the woods
upon our front, but we held our position firmly and repulsed every
sortie made. Their sharpshooters, posted in trees and in places where
they could see our position, very often shot down the picket without
giving us a chance to fire back unless we fired at random. Gen. Wright
remarked to his staff that he could rest quietly while the Sixth
Connecticut held the advance; he was not afraid of the picket line
being deserted, as was the case with a Pennsylvania regiment who ran
into camp in great haste one night, reporting the advance of the whole
force of the Johnnies, when it was found that only a few of them had
ventured near our lines to see what material Uncle Sam’s boys were
made of. Gen. Wright promptly sent them back to their post, with orders
to remain there till properly relieved. The pickets kept up their fire
along the lines, and many were killed and wounded without extending
the line on either side.
The battle of Secessionville was fought the 16th of June. This was a
small village north of Stono river, but was strongly entrenched
outside. With Gen. Lamar’s forces in the rifle-pits, a strong abatis
in front, flanked by creeks and marshy ground and everything in their
favor, the task seemed not an easy one to accomplish. Gen. Benham
started his forces at daylight, and when near enough to do any
service, the command, which consisted of about 7,000 men, wheeled into
line and the attack became general. The enemy poured a most galling
fire into our forces and mowed down our men with fearful loss. The
swampy ground making it impossible to form a line of battle, the
forces were massed together, which impeded its progress as well as
destroyed its efficiency. After several assaults, the forces were
obliged to give up the contest and withdrew in good order, with
nothing gained, but with a great sacrifice of life. The whole
expedition seemed to have been shockingly managed. Ten thousand men
were sent here on a five days’ march with about two days’ rations, and
the plan of the battle reflected no credit upon the person who
conceived it. It was reported in camp that it was a successful
reconnoissance to find the exact position of the enemy, and, as the
troops withdrew in good order, the second attack would prove
victorious. But all soldiers are not deceived by reports from
headquarters. We well knew it was a defeat, with everything that word
implied, and a second attempt would have resulted as disastrously as
the first under the same leadership and plan of attack. Our loss in
killed, wounded and missing footed up to 763. Only two companies of
the Sixth were directly engaged. The other portion of the regiment was
held in reserve. Had the enemy followed up their advantage they might
have compelled us to seek shelter under the banks of the river, but
could have forced us no further, as the gun boats were a strong
defence whenever an opportunity offered itself. The enemy shelled us
pretty severely for several days after this, and we were constantly
under arms, expecting an advance, but none was made.
When Gen. Hunter arrived from the North he ordered an immediate
evacuation of the island. The command moved at midnight across the
island to Battery Point, where we leveled to the ground two of the
enemies’ batteries which they had evacuated for a season, destroyed by
fire a long bridge that spanned a river, and then embarked. The Sixth
and Seventh Conn. went back to Edisto Island with Gen. Wright, while
the remaining forces were sent to other stations. Our stay on Edisto
was a brief one of only two weeks duration, when we were called to
Port Royal. After reporting at the latter place we were sent up to
Beaufort. This little seaport town was once the summer resort for the
chivalry. It contained some very pretty houses, two medium-sized
hotels, several churches and an arsenal; but how desolate in
appearance now,--not a white inhabitant of the town remained to greet
us; all had fled. The negro population welcomed the advance of the
Union troops and gladly hailed the appearance of their deliverers.
Brig. Gen. Brannon commanded the post here. We encamped in a fine
grove of live oak trees that skirted the banks of the river and
considered ourselves fortunate in getting such a pleasant place for
our camp. The greater part of the summer months were inactive in this
command. The forces settled down for the regular camp drill and
discipline. Each regiment took its turn at the ten days’ picket
service, which duty called them out to some fine plantations in the
suburbs of the town. Here we enjoyed the life of the soldier. Our
duties were not arduous and we had opportunity for reading and
writing. The fields were filled with sweet potatoes and corn, together
with the orange and fig trees which abounded near the houses, made our
visits on this picket duty desirable. Our lines skirted the banks of
the rivers and streams, with an occasional raid upon the main land in
search of the Johnnies. These raids sometimes resulted in great
captures, not of the rebs themselves but of their fowls. The Union
soldiers did not want the fowls to lack or suffer hunger, and so
confiscated them that they might not starve. Lieut.-Col. Ely left the
regiment here at Beaufort, having been promoted to be Colonel of the
Eighteenth Connecticut. During the intense heat of the summer many
fevers prevailed and a number sickened and died. Yellow jaundice
prevailed to a great extent. All seemed afflicted with it more or
less, which was about as comfortable to endure as sea-sickness. Capt.
Gerrish, of Company “K,” died on the 19th of August, of typhoid fever,
after an illness of about three weeks; his loss was deeply felt in the
regiment.
It was during our sojourn in Beaufort that orders were issued from
Washington for the discharge of all regimental bands. The members of
the Sixth deeply regretted the loss of their band; it was such a
comfort to hear the strains of music, and we felt that we could march
better, yea, fight better, with the band to enliven the scenes that
surrounded us; but the order was peremptory and home they went,
regretted by all.
In the latter part of October an expedition was conceived by Maj. Gen.
Mitchel, commanding the Department of the South, to proceed inland
with a small force and burn the railroad bridges between Charleston
and Savannah. Scouts had been sent out on several occasions to find
the position of the enemy. A negro lent valuable assistance on one of
these occasions, and the attempt at least seemed practicable. Sergt.
Robert Wilson, of Co. “D,” Sixth Connecticut, had been selected to
pilot the raid, as his knowledge of the position of the enemy had been
carefully gained by his recent daring scouts in their vicinity. Two
brigades of troops under Brig. Gen. Brannan were selected for the
occasion. The first brigade was led by Col. Chatfield, including his
own regiment; the second brigade being led by Gen. Terry. The fleet
consisted of nine gun boats, three transports, one schooner and two
tugs. The Sixth was commanded by Lieut. Col. Speidel, a man noted for
his bravery and his keen judgment and foresight. The fleet sailed on
the afternoon of the 21st of October, through Broad River, twenty
miles from Port Royal, and the next morning at 7 a. m. we landed at a
place called Mackay’s Point, at Boyd’s landing. Here the whole command
rapidly disembarked and pushed forward. The first brigade led the
advance, and the force, in column by companies, kept together as
closely as the state of the road would permit. We passed many recently
deserted plantations, pushing on over corn and cotton fields, through
ditches and swamps for about five miles, when we discovered the enemy
posted on a rising ground beyond a marsh and flanked by thick wood.
They immediately opened upon us with a heavy fire of musketry and
howitzers as we entered a large corn field, and our command quickly
formed in line of battle and “went for them” pretty much the same as
“Bill Nye went for the heathen Chinee.” Haversacks and blankets were
immediately thrown off and we were very soon hotly engaged. The rebs
fled along the road before the second brigade was fairly on the
ground. The first brigade entered the woods under a galling fire of
grape and cannister. Here we found it difficult to proceed, as the
underbrush was so thick we could scarcely stand upright, and all the
while subjected to a storm of bullets without a chance to make an
effective return shot. We were ordered to fall back in the corn field
while the skirmish line moved up the road. We soon cleared the woods
of the enemy and again pushed forward through a deep morass, over
ditches and through such thick briers that the blood oozed from our
hands and faces. The jolly Jack Tars from the gun boats, led by the
Middies, brought up several field pieces by means of drag ropes, and
did very effective service in dislodging the enemy at this point. Here
our regiment suffered severely. Col. Chatfield and Lieut. Col. Speidel
were both struck with cannister shots while bravely leading the men.
The old Sixth, as if to avenge the wrong, became more desperate than
ever and charged upon the Johnnies and drove them across the
Pocotaligo river into the town bearing that name. They immediately
fired the bridge to prevent our crossing, and the structure was
rapidly consumed. The river being too deep to ford, we were obliged to
remain on its banks. Our object was to destroy the bridges over the
Pocotaligo, Salketchi and Coosawatchie rivers, and cut the railroad at
this point, in which we were partially successful.
Col. Barton, of the 48th New York, landed at the mouth of the
Coosawatchie river and proceeded inland to the railroad, where they
encountered a train of cars loaded with rebel soldiers. They fired
upon them, killing the engineer and also the color-bearer of the
“Whippey Swamp Guard,” and captured his flag. The 48th was obliged to
fall back, as the rebels outnumbered them three to one, but made good
their retreat without the loss of a man. The first brigade was engaged
felling trees to bridge the river preparatory to crossing, but the
fire of the enemy was so deadly we were obliged to desist. During the
lull a locomotive whistle was heard in the distance and a train of
cars thundered into the village laden with rebel troops, which was
received with cheers for “South Carolina.” Late in the afternoon our
ammunition was spent and we were obliged to fall back. The Sixth
Connecticut and 47th New Hampshire covered the retreat. Our return to
Mackay’s Point was slow and tedious, as we carried off all our wounded
and gently laid out our dead, covering them as far as we could with
the blankets of the soldier.
The horrors of war were indeed sickening, as the rebels had every
position in their favor and their fire was very destructive. Dead
soldiers and horses lay in the woods as we passed; broken gun
carriages lined the road, and blankets, haversacks and rifles lay
around the ground in large numbers. One sight which the writer
witnessed gave evidence of true heroism. As the man-of-war’s men filed
down the road dragging their guns, one old Jack Tar who had lost his
right leg and from which the blood was still oozing, was strapped upon
his gun, while his comrades were gently cheering him up. As he passed
our regiment he looked up with as cheerful a face as he could command,
and, reaching out his arm, patted his gun as affectionately as one
would a favorite child. Such heroism should not go unrewarded. Many of
our command displayed unflinching courage, and the record of the Sixth
Connecticut at this battle was indeed gratifying to its general
officers.
We had about 4500 troops engaged, composed of the following regiments:
6th Conn.; 4th New Hampshire; 47th and 55th Penn. regiments, in the
first brigade under Col. Chatfield. The 7th Conn., 76th Penn., 3d
Rhode Island, and 3d New Hampshire, composed the second brigade under
Brig. Gen. Terry, besides the Jack Tars from the frigate Wabash. The
total loss to the whole command is not within my knowledge, but the
Sixth suffered a loss of five killed, twenty-nine wounded and three
missing. Orderly sergeant Robert B. Gage, of Co. “I,” who displayed
great bravery on the field, was killed by a rifle ball in the side.
We arrived at Mackay’s Point about eleven o’clock at night, tired and
footsore, and bivouacked on the banks of the river till morning, when
we commenced to embark, which was completed at sunset, as the wounded
were all brought in and tenderly cared for. We returned to our old
camp at Beaufort, where we again settled down to the routine of
drills, etc.
On the 30th of October our corps commander, Maj. Gen. Mitchel, died of
yellow fever after an illness of a few days. The whole command mourned
his loss as a brave and efficient general; one who had endeared
himself to the soldiers by his many good qualities of heart and his
pleasing address. The funeral was attended in St. Helena church at
Beaufort. It was quite an impressive scene. The Forty-seventh
Pennsylvania regiment acted as escort and was followed by the First
Massachusetts cavalry and four pieces of the regular battery, besides
detachments from all the other regiments in the command, the naval
officers, headed by admiral Dupont, officers of the army on horseback,
together with the agents of the government, made up the funeral
cortege.
During the winter months of 1862-3 the Sixth remained at Beaufort,
steadily increasing in drill and guarding the island from attacks from
the main land. While thus comparatively inactive the members cast
about for something to relieve the dull monotony of the season, and it
was resolved to form a society for our mutual improvement. Having
obtained consent of our commander, the society called “The Young Men’s
Literary Association of the Sixth C. V.” sprang into existence. The
officers elected were: President, Timothy H. Eaton, of Co. “A;” Vice
President, Robert McLavy, of Co. “E;” Secretary, James A. Wilson, of
Co. “K;” Treasurer, Charles K. Cadwell, of Co. “F;” Executive
Committee, Clark M. Loomis and Charles M. Morris, of Co. “F.” We held
many interesting debates in the Chapel tent on the leading questions
of the day. As the society increased in membership we found our
quarters much to small, and, by the consent of the commander of the
post, we obtained permission to occupy one of the churches near our
camp for our sole use, which we dedicated Chatfield Hall. This we
fitted up as well as our limited means would allow, and, by the help
of some of our generous officers, we added a small library. The
society rapidly increased in interest, and members were admitted from
other regiments, and many exciting debates, which would have reflected
credit on the floor of Congress, were heard within this place. The
Glee Club of the Sixth, composed of Benjamin Terrell, of Co. “F,”
sergeants Whiteley, Deming and Edward Yates, and corporal Cummings, of
Co. “G,” rendered some fine music on several occasions. Regular
meetings for prayer and conference were also held, and many of these
meetings were largely attended, with gratifying results. Exhibitions
of various kinds were given by the boys, including arts of
ventriloquism, negro minstrelsy, tableaux, &c. Thanksgiving day was
spent in a variety of out-door sports, such as ball-playing, pitching
quoits and running races; and at the close of the day we had a “Mock
dress Parade,” in which privates acted as the general officers, being
dressed as oddly as possible, some with only underclothes on, others
with coats and pants turned inside out and with knapsacks under their
coats. All orders from the “Col.” were obeyed directly opposite to the
command. A large number of visitors were present and were convulsed
with laughter at the proceedings, while the participants maintained as
much decorum as when on a real parade.
New Year’s day, 1863, found us still at Beaufort, with the privilege
of “half holiday.” The day was beautiful and the ushering in of the
new year was pleasantly greeted by all, with many a hope and prayer
that we should soon see the close of the war. A variety of games were
gotten up to make time pass pleasantly, the first of which was a
target practice. The first prize of ten dollars was awarded to a
private in Co. “A,” the second best, a prize of five dollars, was
awarded to a private of Co. “K.” The jumping feats were next in order,
with a large number to compete. The prize of five dollars was awarded
to Joel C. Osborn, of Co. “F.” Following this came the “hop, skip and
jump.” Corporal Cummings, of Co. “G,” jumped, hopped and skipped
thirty-three feet and four inches, and was declared the winner of the
first prize of five dollars. The second best, a prize of two dollars
and a half, was given to a private of Co. “I.”
These exercises closed the pleasures of the forenoon. In the afternoon
a running match was first in order, distance 150 yards; first prize,
of five dollars, awarded to corporal Botts, of Co. “D;” second prize,
two dollars and a half, awarded to private Banty, Co. “D.” The next on
the programme was a target placed in the ground to be bored with an
auger at twenty paces, blindfolded. The prize of five dollars was
awarded to Orrin Lathrop, of Co. “F,” he being the only competitor who
touched the target at all. Next came the wheelbarrow races, distance
100 yards; first prize, five dollars, awarded to private Duprey, of
Co. “A.” Nearly all the competitors went about a hundred yards from
the point in opposite directions. The sack races were the most
laughable of all, as each contestant was completely enveloped in a
sack, which made their progress over the ground very ludicrous to
behold. Catching the greased pig and climbing the greased pole were
other games resorted to and had many contestants. The day closed with
another burlesque dress parade and a short review, which was a decided
improvement on our last one, and caused much pleasure to the
spectators, among whom were Gen. Brannan and staff and a large number
of ladies.
The Sixth spent a great deal of time on the surrounding plantations on
picket duty, at which places we were picketed for ten days at a time.
Each company made certain plantations their headquarters, while every
nook and ravine where the enemy were likely to attack was strongly
guarded. For a time we found rebel chickens and pigs more palatable
than hard tack and pork. The oranges and figs were not left to spoil
upon the trees, and every sweet potato and corn field was visited for
supplies. The rebel pickets at Port Royal Ferry were very
communicative, and several times we exchanged papers with them. They
seemed anxious to “barter” something with a Union soldier whenever an
opportunity presented itself. Their stock in trade consisted chiefly
of tobacco, which they would readily exchange for salt or coffee. They
invariably deprecated the war and wished for its close. Several flags
of truce came at this point for different objects, the bearers of
which were clad in the poorest of homespun clothes and always had the
appearance of half starved creatures; long, lank, hollow-eyed, and
hollow cheeks, with tangled hair and a saffron look in the face
betokened the straits of the confederacy. Well might they wish for the
war to close and “go hum,” as they termed it, when they gazed on the
comparatively well fed and well dressed soldier of the Union army.