engaged in running from the fortifications to some point up or across
the river, which was doubtless bringing in reinforcements. Two of the
gunboats—the Taylor and Conestoga, ran up to nearly the centre of the
island, and dropped a few shells in the direction of the fort and the
steamer, with what result was not known. They effected a thorough
reconnoissance on both sides, and discovered two ugly torpedoes sunk in
the west channel, which they carefully hauled out and towed down to the
shore below.
During the day and night the division of General Smith, from Paducah,
arrived, and was landed on the west shore of the river, with a view of
operating against batteries supposed to be on that side, and also to
counteract a large body of troops, which scouts reported to be
concentrating opposite the fort.
Wednesday night was cold and most disagreeable. About eight o’clock a
heavy storm set in, which speedily quenched the camp-fires, and sent the
troops wet and disconsolate under any shelter that could be found. All
over the southern horizon, in the direction of Fort Henry, a tremendous
thunder storm swept its way, filling the hills with flashes of fiery
blue lightning, and shaking the forests with loud reverberations of
thunder. Hailing this burst of heaven’s artillery, rolling southward
toward the enemy, as a good omen, the Union soldiers pulled the wet
blankets closer around them, turned drearily in the yielding mud, and
fell asleep.
Thursday dawned cloudily, but towards nine o’clock it cleared up and the
sun came out warm and gloriously. Nature nowhere seemed to anticipate
the bloody event which gives the day prominence. A few more troops
arrived, among whom were the Ohio Seventh, Colonel Lauman, and the Ohio
Twelfth, Colonel Wood, both from Smithland, and which, together with the
Seventh Illinois, Lieutenant-Colonel Bancock; Thirteenth Missouri,
Colonel Wright; the Fifteenth Illinois, Colonel ——, and Company D, First
Missouri Artillery, made the Third Brigade, Colonel John Cook
commanding, assigned the right wing of the advance up the Tennessee
shore.
About ten o’clock the gunboats started slowly up the river, four iron
clad steamers leading abreast—the Essex, Captain Porter, on the right,
and the Cincinnati, Commodore Foote, on the left. The three wooden
gunboats ranged themselves abreast and followed, half a mile or so to
the rear.
The iron-clad boats moved up abreast, keeping up the west or high water
channel. Almost immediately on passing the lower end of the island, the
boats and the forts were in each others’ range, but on both sides an
ominous silence was preserved—a silence that betokened deadly intent on
the part of the belligerents. On swept the boats, coming in full view of
the long line of breastworks that broke the east shore—in full view of
the black muzzles of the heavy guns which seemed watching the approach
of the gallant little fleet in ominous silence—in full view of the flag
waving defiantly from a high staff in the centre of the works, until one
could almost see down the huge bore of the guns, the bright straps of
the shells, which seemed like leashes to prevent the deadly missiles
from springing forth upon their work of destruction—and yet not a
trigger was pulled on either side.
Less than a mile separated the fleet and the fort, and yet not a word
was said. The insurgents appeared to be confidently anticipating the
conflict; and grouped like statues around their guns, with lanyards
stretched, they waited for the onset.
When about six hundred yards from the fort, the bow-guns of the
flag-ship poured their contents into it, and so close after, that the
reports seemed almost one, the other three poured in their fire.
Scarcely had the smoke cleared from the muzzles of the pieces, ere the
whole ten guns of the rebels belched forth their contents, sending a
terrific iron shower in, above and around the gunboats. Taking their cue
from the others, the three wooden gunboats, which were about a mile
below, opened from their bow-guns, and then the contest was fairly
begun. For one hour the roar was so incessant that the successive
reports of the guns could not, in many cases, be distinguished.
Occasionally there would be a momentary lull—then a single reverberating
roar would give the key-note, and an instant after all the voices would
swell together in one tremendous chorus.
A thick cloud of smoke enveloped the boats, hiding them completely from
view. Over them hovered a dense white vapor, from which quick flashes of
flame leaped and quivered, incessantly followed by delicate balloon-like
forms of smoke, which burst like ghostly shadows from the enemy’s
shells.
From the very first, the fire of the rebel guns seemed directed at the
Essex. In their first volley two thirty-two pound shots struck the Essex
on the starboard bow, indenting deeply the iron sheathing, and then
glanced off, down the river, while a perfect storm of the iron missiles
whistled over her decks, and plowed into the water on either side. She
received in all eleven shots—one of which carried death through the
whole length of the vessel. It entered a larboard port, carried off the
head of the master’s mate, and passing on, entered the boiler. The steam
and water poured out, filling the whole space between decks, and causing
more destruction than all the enemy’s missiles put together—four men
were instantly suffocated, and some twenty-five severely scalded, among
whom was the gallant Commander Porter. The two pilots, who were in the
pilot-house above, had no escape except through a passage from below,
and up this the steam rushed, as if coming from a safety-valve, and of
course with fatal effect. Both these poor men perished.
Of course the Essex was thenceforth unmanageable. She slowly drifted
down the main channel, and was soon after met by a steamer, which towed
her down to the place occupied by the boats before starting. Soon after
the Essex became disabled, the pelting of the iron storm proved too hot
for endurance, and the rebel flag came rapidly down. The firing on the
part of the gunboats immediately ceased, and messengers were sent off
from the flag-boat, which found, upon landing, that the rebels were
disposed to an unconditional surrender. In scarcely more than an hour
after the first attack, the flag of Fort Henry was in the dust.
The fort was soon after taken possession of, and it was found that the
sum total of rebel prisoners was between seventy and one hundred, the
balance having left the night before on the steamer Dunbar.
Among those who surrendered were Brigadier-General Tilghman, Major
Corrico, Colonel Carmichael, Captain Hayden, of the Engineers, and
Captain Miller, with several other commissioned officers.
Ten of the rebels were found killed, and some twelve or fifteen wounded.
Three hundred and six tents were found on the west side of the river,
and about as many near the fort, all of which bore evidences of the
haste with which the rebels had evacuated their quarters. Several
hundred stands of arms were found, chiefly squirrel rifles and
double-barrelled shot-guns, also a large amount of clothing, forage,
provisions, wagons, mules and horses.
There was a large supply of ammunition, and when the Union forces
entered the fort there was beside each gun an abundance unexpended. The
tents were new and of excellent make, sufficient to shelter five or six
thousand men. The enemy had flour, corn, bacon and sugar in large
quantities, but no salt, and not a large supply of beef.
There were nineteen guns in position, of the following calibre: two
128-pounders, one 80-pounder, two 42-pounders, rifled, ten 32-pounders,
two 24-pound howitzers, two 12-pound howitzers. Three 6-pound smooth
bores, five 6-pound rifles, found outside the intrenchments.
A twenty-four-pound rifled gun exploded on the fourth round, and near
the close of the fight a shell from one of the Union boats entered the
eighty-pounder and burst, disabling it. Several caissons were captured
in the redan upon the west side of the river, but no guns were in
position.
Evidences abounded on all sides of the deadly accuracy of the Federal
gunners. Every one of the eleven log buildings within the ramparts was
perforated with shot, the roof of one of the small magazines was torn
open, hurdle-work scattered in all direction, half the guns knocked out
of place, and great gulleys cut in the parapet and the ground. A
thirty-two pounder bearing upon the gunboats had been struck by a Union
shell, completely shattering the muzzle. The ground beside the embrasure
was stained with blood, which lay in pools on the uneven surface. Beside
one of the buildings, with gray blankets thrown hastily over them, lay
six dead soldiers, all fearfully mutilated. Inside, ten wounded men were
stretched upon cots, or on the ground, some insensible, and others
rending the air with groans, while the surgeons of the garrison were
attending upon them. Just above, on the river, was the hospital ship of
the rebels, the stern-wheel steamer R. M. Patten, which had been
captured with the fort. The ensign of disease, the yellow flag, was
flying from the staff, waving off destruction from sixty invalids.
THE REBEL CAMP.
Upon a high plateau, the heavy trees had all been cut away over a large
area. They were designed for the construction of an abattis, and though
nothing had been done beyond chopping down the heavy timber, the large
trunks and limbs, lying in all directions, would have presented almost
insurmountable obstacles to the approach of cavalry or artillery, had
the rifle-pits, just beyond, been filled with men.
Crossing the rifle-pits, the Unionists were in the enemy’s camp, though
still more than half a mile from the fort. Here were the wall tents of a
regiment, all standing in complete order, with the camp-fires still
blazing, the copper pots of soup for dinner boiling over them, and the
half-made biscuits in the pans. Inside the tents everything was just as
the enemy had left it—pistols, shot-guns, muskets, bowie-knives,
clothing, tables partially set for dinner, letters half-written, with
the ink scarcely dry upon the open page, cards thrown down in the midst
of the game, overcoats, blankets, trunks, carpet sacks, and so on
through all the articles of camp life. It seemed as if the men were out
at guard-mounting, and expected to return in ten minutes.
Along the river bank were long rows of log barracks, enough to
accommodate two or three thousand men, and finished comfortably. Inside
they bore the same indications that the inmates had decamped without a
moment’s warning.
ADVANCE OF NATIONAL GUNBOATS UP THE TENNESSEE RIVER.
In accordance with the instructions of Commodore Foote, given before the
attack on Fort Henry, immediately after the capture of the fort,
February 6, the gunboats Conestoga, Lexington and Tyler, under the
command of Lieutenant Phelps, advanced up the river twenty-five miles,
to the crossing of the Bowling Green and Memphis railway, breaking up a
portion of the railway bridge, and rendering it impassable. They next
proceeded to destroy the rebel gunboats and transports, capturing large
quantities of munitions of war and supplies, and advanced up the river
for upwards of two hundred miles to Eastport, in Mississippi, and
Florence, at the foot of Muscle Shoals, in Alabama, annihilating the
rebel flotilla in the Tennessee river. The expedition was welcomed at
every point by the inhabitants. Twenty-five Tennesseans enlisted at
Cerro Gordo, where also three steamers were seized, containing 250,000
feet of valuable ship timber.
Toward the latter part of February, intelligence reached Fort Henry that
the rebels were fortifying a point on the Tennessee river, near the
Mississippi State line, whereupon Lieutenant-Commanding William Gwin,
with the gunboats Tyler and Lexington, were sent forward to reconnoitre
the position.
Having learned that the rebels had occupied and were fortifying a place
called Pittsburgh, nine miles above, on the right bank of the river, he
determined to attack them.
At twelve M. the Taylor, followed by the Lexington,
Lieutenant-Commanding Shirk, proceeded up the river. When within twelve
hundred yards of Pittsburgh, they were opened upon by the rebel
batteries, consisting of six or eight field pieces, some rifled. Getting
within one thousand yards, the Taylor and Lexington opened a
well-directed fire, and had the satisfaction of silencing the batteries.
They then proceeded abreast of the place, and, under the cover of grape
and canister, landed two armed boats from each vessel, containing,
besides their crews, a portion of company C, Captain Thaddeus Phillips,
and company K, First-Lieutenant John C. Rider, of the Thirty-second
regiment, Illinois Volunteers (sharpshooters). Second-master Jason
Gondy, commanded the boats of the Taylor, and Second-master Martin Dunn,
commanded the boats of the Lexington. The landing was successfully
accomplished. This small force drove back the rebels, and held them in
check until they had accomplished their difficult object, which was to
discover the real strength and purpose of the enemy, and to destroy a
house in close proximity to the batteries. In addition to their
artillery, the enemy had a force of not less than two regiments of
infantry, and a regiment of cavalry.
[Illustration:
SECTION OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.
SHOWING THE DISTANCES FROM NEW ORLEANS.
]
THE BURNSIDE EXPEDITION.
SAILING OF THE FLEET FOR HATTERAS INLET.
JANUARY 12–20, 1862.
Immediately after the departure of the expedition to operate against
Port Royal and the adjacent territory, the organization of another
armament, to proceed to the North Carolina coast, was commenced, and
like its predecessor, was mainly fitted out at Annapolis, Md., and
gradually concentrated at Fortress Monroe. After many delays, it sailed
from that place for its destination on the 12th of January, 1862. The
expedition consisted of a large naval force of light-draught boats,
taken from the commercial marine, fitted up and armed, and a numerous
retinue of transports and supply vessels, all under the command of
Commodore L. M. Goldsborough. There were thirty-one gunboats in the
expedition, exclusive of transports, carrying an aggregate of
ninety-four guns. Five of these, called “floating batteries,” were
vessels of strong hulls, heavily braced, and cut down so as to present
but a small surface when in action, and designed to be anchored during
an engagement. The entire number of vessels of all classes was one
hundred and twenty-five.
The land force consisted of about fourteen thousand men, under the
command of Brigadier-General Ambrose E. Burnside, who was also
Commander-in-chief of the expedition. It consisted of fifteen regiments,
divided into three brigades, commanded in their order by Generals John
G. Foster, Jesse L. Reno, and John G. Parke.
The vessels encountered adverse weather immediately after starting from
Fortress Monroe, and a number of the transports were obliged to put
back, having experienced one of those severe storms which have rendered
the coast of Cape Hatteras a terror and a proverb to the mariner. For a
time the expedition was in deadly peril. Communication between the
vessels of the fleet was rendered impossible, and wreck and disaster
appeared to be their inevitable fate. Several gunboats and vessels were
driven ashore and lost, and a number of valuable lives sacrificed to the
fury of the elements, in a vain endeavor to succor some of the disabled
vessels.
Along the whole coast of North Carolina there are many desolate
sand-bars or islands, varying from half a mile to two miles in width,
intersected by numerous inlets, which with few exceptions, are not
navigable. A principal one of these, known as Hatteras Inlet, opening
into the waters of Albemarle Sound, was the point where Commodore
Goldsborough’s fleet was now endeavoring to concentrate.
On Monday morning, January 13, they were off Hatteras Inlet. Day broke
with a leaden sky, against which the angry, white-crested waves raced
their mad career along the reefs of Cape Hatteras, that threw its
headland oceanward but eight miles distant. Fourteen steamers were
laboring to weather the storm point. Bravely they breasted on,
staggering beneath the giant blows of each successive sea, the decks
swept fore and aft, and all on board reeling from side to side like
drunken men. One figure stood immovable, grasping the bits and scanning
the horizon for traces of ships as they rose on the glittering mass of
foam. It was the square, manly form of General Burnside, whose anxiety
for the fate of his army was intense. Many of the vessels on which the
troops were embarked were nothing more than huge top-hampered river
steamers, with projecting guards, that would break up like cardboard if
fairly struck by a sea.
At dark, all hands on the flag-ship were startled by the report of a
gun, and on reaching the hurricane deck they saw a large brig drifting
rapidly on to the bar. As it grew darker, and her outline became less
defined, the excitement became intense. She was evidently in a most
critical position, and every moment might be her last. Slowly the black
hull rose and fell, each time gliding nearer and nearer to the vortex of
white breakers, which, once reached, nothing could save her. Suddenly a
fringe of musketry fire surrounded her bulwarks, and blue-lights were
burnt in her tops. Volley after volley succeeded each other in rapid
succession, yet apparently no one could help her; no human power dared
face the tempest, and, perhaps, share her doom. General Burnside boarded
every steamtug in the harbor; offered any reward, and also to go himself
in aid of the brig, but all held back. Were three hundred men to be
launched into eternity, and no effort made to save them? At last one
brave seaman volunteered to take his little steamer out—General Burnside
jumped aboard her—but by the earnest entreaties of the officers he
delegated the honorable position to one of his staff, for his heroic
conduct had nerved every brave heart in his command.
BURNSIDE’S FLEET AT HATTERAS INLET.
From the 13th of January until the 4th of February, the fleet at
Hatteras Inlet experienced an almost uninterrupted series of gales, and
the two dykes which reach the east and west boundaries of the inlet,
were fringed with perpetual spray and foam from the breakers. The
lighter vessels, comprising the propeller gunboats, the side-wheel
steamers, and most of the schooner transports, had gone safely through
the “Swash,” and were securely anchored some two miles from the throat
of the inlet, while the larger ships and barks were still riding
outside, with colors continually flying for a pilot.
Many of these vessels were crowded with men suffering for the want of
necessary supplies, especially water, and the largest of the transports
had a draught of from two to four feet more than the specifications of
the guarantee should have allowed. The consequence was, that they
grounded in attempting the passage. An occasional cessation of a few
hours in the storm afforded opportunity that could be taken advantage of
by vessels to try the dangerous passage, aided by the tugs, that
responded but shyly to the signals for aid. And thus for days the
severity of the gale defied all communication between the vessels
outside of the bar, as they battled with a fiercer foe than that upon
the land—fighting a very hand-to-hand fight with storm and ocean.
Nearly three weeks passed before all the vessels of the expedition were
brought in safety through the swash to anchorage within the inlet.
Though the severity of the storm had threatened the destruction of the
entire armada, and occasioned the deepest gloom and anxiety in the minds
of thousands of loyal friends at home, the brave and skillful commanders
were never despondent, and met the new dangers of each day with hopeful
energy and perseverance. Eight vessels of various sizes were cast away
or foundered in the storm, though but few lives were lost.
Colonel J. W. Allen and Surgeon T. S. Weller, of the Ninth New Jersey,
were drowned from a small boat while on a noble mission to relieve a
suffering crew.
Many of the large transports were grounded in attempting to pass inside
the inlet. From the necessity of lightening them, vast quantities of
property were lost or thrown overboard. An expedition beset with such
difficulties, all overcome by indomitable perseverance, has seldom been
recorded in the history of any country.
CAPTURE OF ROANOKE ISLAND.
FEBRUARY 8, 1862.
After a detention of three weeks in sight of Hatteras Inlet, occasioned
by the severity of the storm, and the difficulty of piloting the
heavily-laden vessels through the inlet, the expedition received sailing
orders on the 4th of February, and proceeded on the next day to the
point of attack. The fleet anchored on the night of February 5, about
ten miles below the southern point of Roanoke Island, from whence they
again weighed anchor at eight o’clock on the morning of the 6th. A storm
retarded their progress, and they remained over night without passing
through Roanoke Inlet to Croatan Sound.
At ten o’clock on the morning of the 7th, the gunboats, under the lead
of the Flag-officer’s ship, moved forward, and were soon inside the
narrow passage leading into Croatan Sound, known as Roanoke Inlet. The
mainland juts eastward, forming a point of marshy land at the southern
extremity of Croatan Sound, which is the only navigable water leading
past Roanoke Island. A small island forms the eastern boundary of the
channel, while the western shore is a low marshy point. Following
Commodore Goldsborough’s squadron were the gunboats of the coast
division, all of which passed through without interruption.
The S. R. Spaulding, with General Burnside on board, next passed
through, but the remainder of the transports were detained about two
hours. The rebel gunboats could now be seen close in shore, evidently
under the guns of batteries on shore. As the fleet passed into the
sound, a signal was fired from one of the rebel gunboats, to announce
its approach. This was about half-past ten o’clock. At half-past eleven
the first gun was fired from the flag-ship, and was replied to by the
rebels. The Flag-officer hoisted the signal: “This day our country
expects that every man will do his duty.” The effect was electric. The
men worked their guns with unflagging energy, determined that their
country should have nothing to complain of in relation to them. As the
Federal vessels came within shorter range, the fire became more rapid,
but the regular fire did not commence until noon, when the flag-ship
displayed the signal for close action.
The number of the rebel gunboats visible in the early part of the
engagement was seven. As the vessels came into closer action, they moved
to the northward, with the design of drawing the Union fleet after them,
and bring them under the guns of their batteries on the island. At
twelve o’clock the engagement became general, between the retreating
gunboats of the rebels and the Union fleet, varied by an occasional shot
from a battery on shore. The firing was exceedingly brisk for some time,
but the distance was evidently too great for destructive effect. The one
hundred-pound Parrott gun on board the Southfield, to which the
Flag-Officer transferred his flag, boomed forth terrific explosions,
followed by the roar and crash of flying shells. The puff of smoke in
the air was almost simultaneous with the splash of fragments in the
water. The rebel gunboats kept up a steady fire in reply. Their fire was
varied at times by the louder report of a hundred-pound Parrott gun on
board one of their vessels. The Sawyer gun on board the Fanny, which was
captured by the enemy at Hatteras Inlet, was the most annoying in its
effects, as the range was long and very accurate.