CHAPTER IV.

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.