CHAPTER III.

The 7th of November, 1861, will ever remain in the history of the war as one in which a grand victory perched upon the banner of the Union; when treason and rebellion received a blow from which they never fully recovered. The members of the old Sixth will not soon forget the events that transpired. Our gunboats were occupied several hours in getting into position to do the most effective service, and after forming into a circle, with the grand old frigate Wabash taking the lead, they sailed around once and then opened fire upon those strongholds of rebellion. The enemy were evidently expecting something of the kind, for they returned the fire with great promptness. Fort Walker, on Hilton Head, seemed determined to drive the Union fleet away from the harbor, while Fort Beauregard, on Bay Point, which was opposite, played comparatively a small part, for all her shell fell short of the mark. As the boats moved nearer and nearer the engagement became more general, and shot and shell flew like hail through the air; those of the enemy doing little execution, while our shells seemed to stir up the sand around and in their batteries at almost every fire. The troops on the transports watched the engagement with intense interest, while broadside after broadside were poured into those doomed works of treason. Orders were signalled to have the troops prepare, in light marching order, to land at short notice. We were confident the battle would be short and decisive, as the rebels could not withstand such terrible odds. As the battle raged, our boats directed a part of their fire into the woods that skirted the shore on Hilton Head. What could that be for? was the query; when it was announced that the rebels were routed and were retreating through the woods; and such we learned to be a fact, as they could easily be discerned by the glass, making their escape in that direction. A few more well-directed shots, and the firing ceased; then we knew the victory was ours. A boat was lowered and manned by a picked crew of man-of-wars men, who pulled for the shore with great speed, landed and made their way into the fort on Hilton Head and raised the glorious stars and stripes on the rebel flag staff. Words cannot describe the events that followed in a few brief moments. The battle had been waged precisely five hours when the victory was announced. Liberty was triumphant over the despotism of slavery. The different bands on the steamers struck up the national airs, songs were sung, and cheer after cheer rent the air from thousands of throats, while the loud huzzas swept through the fleet like a whirlwind, and not a few prayers arose to the God of battles for giving us such a signal victory.

Thus was witnessed the first naval engagement of the war. Preparations were now made to land the troops, as it was feared the rebels would rally and contest the possession. The Connecticut troops were selected to land first, and the Sixth, with Lieut. Col. Ely in command, were put aboard the steamer Winfield Scott, while the Seventh, under Col. Terry, was in boats in tow of the steamer. The steamer ran as near the beach as she could, when we got into lighters and jumped into the swelling surf--a cold bath for us at 10 o’clock at night, with water up to armpits, our arms upstretched, with our rifles and cartridge boxes to “keep our powder dry;” but all were in good spirits and seemed willing to undergo any hardship to save the Union and the suppression of the infernal Rebellion.

We took possession of the rebel works after we landed, without making any formal demand therefor, and not until we landed did we know what dreadful havoc our shells had made; the sight beggars description. The dead and wounded lay in heaps, and the air resounded with groans and petitions for help. We built huge fires to dry ourselves, stationed our pickets and lay upon our arms, not daring to explore the island very far the first night, for fear of an ambuscade. The night was spent without sleep, as we were thoroughly drenched through, and we were glad to hail the morning light. A detachment of three companies under Lieut. Col. Ely explored the lower part of the island, and met a few of the enemy who had not succeeded in getting away; had a brisk skirmish with them, in which they retreated. The detachment brought into camp two fine brass howitzers, with a valuable pair of horses, besides seventy other horses, six mules, six wagons, two yoke of oxen, together with other valuable property of a total value of $50,000; but no credit was ever given us, not even a quartermaster’s receipt.

The island of Hilton Head was very rich and fertile; the cotton fields were ripe, waiting for the second picking. The palmetto tree was green and the air as balmy as June. Sweet potatoes were plenty, to be had for the digging. Every building near the fort was riddled by our shells, while the tents were torn into shreds. Our surgeons provided for the wounded as well as they could with the means at hand. Many of the dead were literally torn to atoms, and some were half buried where they fell; guns were dismounted, army wagons smashed, and many fine horses and mules lay in heaps. During the bombardment, a rebel gunner, wearing a red shirt, was noticed by our fleet to occupy a very prominent position on the parapet, and was seen to pat his gun every time he fired it, and we found one arm with a piece of red flannel upon it near the gun, which seemed to be all that was left of him; he was evidently blown to atoms. Those who succeeded in getting away alive must have beat a hasty retreat, for knapsacks, blankets and rifles lay in confusion all around, and were found at almost every step for miles through the woods. The armament of the fort was 22 heavy guns, most of which were rifled and of the most approved pattern; and two heavy globe-sight rifled cannon, the gift of some _neutral_ English friends to the Confederate States.

For a short time Uncle Sam’s rations were at a discount, as the trophies of war in live stock seemed abundant. Pigs were roaming at will, only to be confiscated by a soldier; chickens and geese were found in large numbers, and we regaled our palates with sweet potatoes, sugar cane, roast pig and broiled chickens. The commissary stores of the rebels were probably larger at this time than during the latter days of the confederacy. But after a while of sumptuous living, we were obliged to fall back on our regular salt junk and hard tack.

After the stars and stripes, the State flag of Connecticut was the first to wave over South Carolina soil, and the Connecticut troops made the first advance into the interior. 120 head of beef cattle, numerous porkers, large quantities of chickens and other fowls were brought in from the adjoining plantations in the days that followed, but these latter captures had to be turned over to the Quartermaster, except occasionally some fowl or porker that was slyly appropriated by a soldier for a “side dish” to accompany the junk and tack. We made frequent skirmishes over the island, but the foe had departed and the negroes were the sole occupants of the homes of their masters. The groves of orange trees at Seabrook’s plantation were very fragrant, and the ripe fruit was quickly disposed of as contraband of war. We scouted out to the plantation owned by one Graham, which was about five miles from Hilton Head. There we found quite a village of negroes, who seemed pleased to see the “Yankees,” as they termed us; and on our inquiry as to the whereabouts of their masters, their reply was, “I dunno, massa; dun gone for true dis time; spect him a right smart way off.” The plantation of “Squire Pope,” as the negroes called him, was a lovely place, indeed. The fine old southern mansion was situated in a large grove of live oak trees, with ample grounds neatly fenced. Large groves of orange trees, whose fragrance filled the air and gave evidence of the home of contentment and wealth, but the occupants had fled and left their household goods to the mercy of the soldiers. Two spacious libraries were in the house, filled with books. Heavy plate glass mirrors and fine oil paintings adorned the walls, which, together with the rich furniture, made the place seem too good to be destroyed by the ruthless hand of war.

Our forces were busily engaged in unloading the transports of their cargoes; piles of lumber were brought ashore and three large storehouses were erected on the island to hold Uncle Sam’s rations; and everything indicated that Uncle Sam was to hold possession. Wheelbarrows, pickaxes and shovels were numerous, and we soon learned their use. A long line of earthworks was thrown up by the troops for protection from any advance that might be made. While we remained at Hilton Head we became very proficient with the shovel and pick, and for a time our rifles became rusty; but the same could not be said of our shovels.

The early months of winter, 1862-3, the Sixth remained on the island, perfecting themselves in drill and awaiting orders; and the 20th of January found us with orders to embark on a secret expedition under Gen. Wright. We were hurried aboard of the steamer Cosmopolitan, a boat much too small to accommodate our regiment; but we were informed that our stay aboard would be of brief duration--perhaps only a day or two would elapse before we should land. We accepted the situation, as it all made up the three years of a soldier’s life. A storm set in and kept the fleet in the harbor for nearly a week; after which we weighed anchor and dropped down to Warsaw Sound, Ga., with the idea of avoiding Fort Pulaski and capturing Savannah by the way of an inlet. A long experiment was made by our gunboats, while the transports with the troops lay in Warsaw Sound. Commodore Tatnall, of the rebel navy, with his “mosquito fleet,” as it was named, made several assaults on our gunboats, but was invariably compelled to withdraw without any advantage gained. Our condition on shipboard was deplorable; so cramped were we for room that when we lay on the decks at night one could not walk among the sleeping forms without stepping on a soldier. For sixteen days we were fed on salt pork and beef, and no vegetables, with hard tack that was full of vermin, and water that had been put in kerosene oil barrels three months before. The water was so thick in one barrel that the writer saw, it could be lifted up on the finger. It was so nauseating and foul that when poured into the sea, the water was discolored by it. We had no water to cleanse our bodies, save what the sea afforded, and salt water without soap is not very good to cleanse with. Dirt and filth prevailed to an alarming extent, and “gray-backs,” as the boys called them, accumulated upon our bodies in a fearful manner. As one Dutchman expressed it, he had lice so big, “shust like wheat.” None were exempt from these pests, from the Colonel down. So alarming was our condition that the whole brigade was ordered ashore that we might bathe and wash our clothes while the boats were fumigated. Scarcely had we landed ere the whole beach presented a ludicrous appearance--a sight of which a “special artist” might envy--that of a brigade of soldiers stripped to the waist, picking off these vermin. We remained ashore one day and then returned to our old quarters on board the ship, and in a short time were as filthy as ever. Severe sickness in the form of “spotted fever” broke out in the ranks of the Sixth in consequence, and became so aggravating that there was an average of four or five deaths daily. Large strong men were attacked in the morning and before night were dead. It baffled the skill of our surgeons, who worked with untiring zeal to break up this dread malady. Death seemed near at hand; and to pass away by a foul disease contracted by being kept amid such filth was hard to contemplate. All expressed a desire rather to face all the guns of the rebel army than to meet death in this manner.

A religious interest sprang up and prayer meetings were held in the cabins every evening. Many were converted and a large number professed Christ as their only hope. The Division Surgeon came on board and pronounced our condition as a very critical one, and said we must be sent back to Hilton Head to recruit; so back we went, although we would have preferred to go with the fleet if our quarters had been suitable to stay in. News of our illness reached the Head before we did, and when we landed, there were none to bid us welcome; all the soldiers kept at a safe distance. We pitched our camp on the old parade ground of the Ninth Maine Regiment, but no soldiers ventured near to greet us, as is usual on such occasions. One regiment sent us some coffee, bringing it as far as our camp guard and leaving it for us to take at our pleasure.

Being once more on mother earth, with plenty of exercise and the facilities for keeping clean, the regiment rapidly improved in health, deaths became less frequent, and we felt like ourselves once more. As soon as practicable we were detailed to work on the fortifications, and the pick and shovel were not allowed to rust. The 20th of March again found us under marching orders; this time our destination was Dawfuskie Island. We embarked in the morning and landed at 10 o’clock at night; marched through the woods to the end of the island opposite Fort Pulaski. A drenching rain made our march very wearisome, and we were glad enough to find a chance for rest a short time before daybreak.

Dawfuski Island was a beautiful place. The groves of orange and fig trees were in blossom and their fragrance filled the air. The pomegranate and persimmon looked fine indeed, and the plantations were beautified with many choice flowers in full bloom. The Sixth made several reconnoissances up New River, toward Savannah, and watched the enemy in that direction. Part of our regiment was selected to occupy Jones Island, which was on the Savannah River, about midway between Fort Pulaski and the city. A few companies of the Forty-eighth New York Regiment had preceded us and were engaged in building a fort to prevent the enemy from reinforcing Pulaski. We built a corduroy road across the island by laying several tiers of logs across each other; and it was with extreme difficulty we could gain a foothold, as the mud was so soft we would slip and go down knee deep into the mud. None but Connecticut Yankees would have thought it possible to fortify themselves in such a place. There was not a tree or shrub on the whole island; nothing but tall rank sea grass. We pitched our tents in the mud; banked them up with mud, and it was mud everywhere. At some of the high tides the entire island was covered with water to the depth of several inches. The writer has a vivid recollection of being awakened one night with the water surging into his ears, and we were all obliged to get up from our bed of sea grass and wait for the tide to recede, with no more sleep that night. The confederacy and its leaders did not receive very flattering compliments from the Union soldiers about this time, or the writer’s ears deceived him.

We managed, however, by excessive labor, to build a fort of mud, with the assistance of a few bags of sand which we got out of the river when the tide was low. The hot southern sun baked the mud quite hard as we piled it up, and by degrees we managed to get a foundation secure enough to mount nine heavy guns, which we drew across the island by night. The task was very laborious, and many gave way to fevers and other diseases, which made extra duty for those who managed to survive. Day after day we worked in mud and water up to our knees. The gnats and mosquitos were so thick we tied cloths around our heads to get a partial relief from the insects. Our water for cooking and drinking purposes we got from the river; it was brackish and insipid enough, and many sighed for a cooling draught from the old oaken buckets of our northern homes.