"All in good time—His good time," said his brother; "come, Johnny, let's us go back to mother." And so they separated; and our boys, Harry and Johnny, walked quickly home.
They had not been in the house ten minutes, when the postman's peculiarly loud and impatient ring was heard. The little mother's heart stopped beating for a moment, while the children, too anxious to wait for a servant to come, rushed in a body to open the door. One united scream of joy greeted the dear brother's well-known handwriting.
"Safe! safe!" they cried, as they ran with the precious letter to their mother, who had turned so ghastly white that she seemed to be dying. It was a thick enclosure. With trembling, eager fingers, the envelope was torn away. Within was a long letter written on several sheets of paper, which were closely wrapped around a miniature of a beautiful young girl; a short, thick lock of dark curling hair, and a small card, on which was a tiny but most exquisite painting.
It represented a dark and stormy sea; the angry waves beating furiously against a great rock, which stood like a tower of strength in the midst of the waters.
On the rock far above, a cross, stead-fast and immovable, was planted, from which all the light in the picture came.
The inscription below was: "Our faith;" and on the back was written, "For dear Walter's birthday."
"These must belong to some one else," said the little mother in a low, sobbing voice. Then looking again at the miniature, she uttered a cry of grief, as she saw that it was a likeness of one she knew and loved dearly. She took up the letter, and read, half blinded with tears—
"February 12th, 1862.
"Darling Mother, Father, Brothers, and Sisters:—I have had my wish. I have been in a battle and, I hope, did my duty. I have come out unharmed; and I thank God humbly, for his goodness and mercy.
"We went through the inlet on the sternwheel boat 'Cadet,' February 7th. Soon General Burnside directed Lieutenant Andrews to take a boat's crew and ten soldiers, and pull for the shore to take soundings and examine the landing.
"Lieutenant Andrews, who is a cool, brave fellow, went through this enterprise splendidly. I had the good fortune to go with him. He took the soundings, went ashore, saw the glitter of bayonets, and was convinced that the landing was commanded by the rebels.
"Just as he returned to the boat, a number of men sprang up like lightning from the tall grass, and fired at us. One bullet took effect; one poor fellow was severely wounded.
"Then our vessels bombarded them. A hurricane of shot and shell was poured into their battery, till they seemed to be enveloped in one sheet of white smoke and flame; for we had set their quarters on fire. But with a desperation that filled me with a sorrowful admiration, they still worked at their guns.
"Then the rebel gunboats came down upon our vessels, and the brazen throats of our guns opened upon them with such deadly effect, that a boat of the enemy's was soon enveloped in flames. One of those awful hundred-pound shells from a Parrott gun fell and exploded on her deck.
"At four o'clock in the afternoon, our general made a circuit of the fleet. A shell from the enemy was aimed at his boat, but it exploded, fell into the water, hurting no one. The fighting continued till six o'clock, when our vessels hauled off, and all became quiet. No light was seen on shore but the red glow of the burning ruins of the enemy's quarters. They had fought bravely; and though in the wrong, I could not help feeling a respect for their courage, while I condemned their cause.
"The landing of our brave fellows was effected in a wonderfully short time; for we had no trouble from the enemy, as the men who fired on Lieutenant Andrews and his crew, were sent scampering into the woods by a shell from one of our boats, which went howling like a fiend through the air, and fell down upon them.
"But it began to rain, and in a cold driving storm we waded through the swamp, the rank grass up to our eyes, until we came out on a sandy plain. We tore up a rail fence, and at eleven o'clock that night our bivouac fires spangled the earth.
"You may imagine how much rest we got, with nothing but our thin overcoats to protect us. But our courage flamed up bright in spite of the weather; and when the order to form was given next morning, we rushed to our places with hearty good-will.
"Generals Foster and Burnside came up and said a few pleasant words. Then the reconnaissance was made, and we soon heard firing. We were ordered to advance. The men laughed and joked with each other as they marched, while our great guns boomed and thundered, and the fierce, incessant shriek of rifle shot filled the air.
"We went a mile, then two, and now the shot rattled among the leaves, and men came past carrying the brave Massachusetts boys, pierced by ball and bayonet, showing frightful bleeding wounds. As they were borne to the rear, they would pass us with a smile on their ghastly faces; or would utter a faint, trembling cheer, and the words, 'Never give up, boys, Victory or death!' and then a grand heroic fire would blaze up in their eyes.
"On we marched, till we heard cheers and screams of fury mingling with the thundering of the guns. Thick smoke, through which came flashes with a gleam like tiger's eyes, enveloped us, and the whistle of the bullets rushed close past our ears.
"We were under fire; and now, dear mother, I breathed a prayer to God to nerve my arm and heart. Not a weak soul—not a coward was in our ranks. I looked around, and saw in every resolute face a look which plainly said, 'Glory, or a grave.'
"Then our colonel gave the order to fire. Directly in front of us was the famous redoubt, of which we had heard so much; and we could see riflemen in the trees, under the turfed walls, and behind every possible cover. But we obeyed the order with a will, and for an hour we fought. Not a soul flinched. As the balls struck our men, and they fell, they were carried to the rear, and the ranks closed up without wavering. I seemed turned into stone; my heart hardened. I saw a ball strike poor Walter Averill, who fought at my side. He gave a low cry, and sank to the ground. Two privates carried him to an ambulance, and I turned away with my heart of granite harder, stonier than ever. It seemed impossible to feel sorrow. Suddenly a wild cheer rose up above the awful din. Our flag waved from the redoubt! Another! another! The battle was won!
"Roanoke Island was ours! with all the enemy's guns, and three thousand men with their arms, ammunition, and stores. The victory was complete.
"There was one young fellow, dear mother, who deserved to be made a general. Oh, mother! he was only seventeen years old—three years younger than I. He was ordered to plant a battery of six twelve-pounder boat howitzers from the vessels in the advance of the centre. He dragged these through the swamp and placed them in position. They soon began to thunder and flash into the enemy, who returned the fire with such fury and desperation that every man, one after the other, was shot down, and he was left alone. The chaplain of the Twenty-fifth Massachusetts, Rev. Mr. James, then rushed up and worked at one of the howitzers till his ammunition gave out, and he had to retire. Still this undaunted boy kept on loading and discharging his gun, now entirely alone, and a mark for the most terrible galling fire; and he did this until the enemy had surrendered.
"What a heroic soul lives in that brave boy's body! You may be sure that I found him out when the battle was over, and I just took him in my arms and hugged him tight. I hope we shall be fast friends as long as we live. His name is Benjamin H. Porter, and he lives in New York State. So give three cheers for him, and our grand old State."
The Battle of Roanoke Island.