and concealed every night for over three weeks. The Sixth found its labors very severe. By moonlight and during heavy thunder showers the work went steadily forward. At the end of that time, ten large batteries had been completed, mounting 48 heavy guns and within 400 yards of the enemy’s works.
During the latter part of the time they began to suspect something was going on, for we could see them strengthen their batteries on the opposite bank. The rebel pickets were very inquisitive and tried to question us regarding our position, &c. We were on good terms with each other, and made miniature ships, freighted them with salt and coffee, and sent them over to the rebs, and in return they sent us tobacco. They informed us of the death of “Stonewall” Jackson, and displayed their flags at half mast and fired half hour guns throughout the day in honor of the deceased. They generally communicated to us the news of any battle that occurred sooner than we got it through our own sources. They seemed to relish a joke occasionally. One of them informed us that Gen. Beauregard had such an exalted opinion of the “Yankees” on Folly Island that he was coming over to make us a visit and give us all a “farm six feet by two.”
About the 1st of July large numbers of troops began to arrive at the island, and “old Folly” literally swarmed with them. The order was given for us to
capture the battery on the end of Morris Island, and we expected to make a night attack, so we sewed pieces of white cotton cloth on the left arm, that we might be distinguished from the foe. At midnight on the 9th, large detachments of troops stepped quietly into boats and rowed silently up Folly River; not a word was spoken above a whisper, nor any noise heard, save the splashing of the oars and the occasional plunge of the alligators from the river bank. At about 3 o’clock the flotilla of eighty large launches had arrived near Morris Island, and we were ordered to keep close to shore and under cover of the tall sea grass that lined its banks. Here we waited patiently for the dawn of day,--a day that was to bring victory to our flag, but death to many a brave soldier. We could see from our position the rebel soldier lazily walking his beat on the parapet, while the smoke from the dim camp fires slowly ascended skyward. Everything indicated to us that they were not expecting cannon balls for breakfast nor the advent of the boys in blue. Gen. Strong, who was to lead the attack, looked every inch a soldier, as he moved among us giving cheering words to all. At precisely 5 o’clock, the batteries that we had worked on so faithfully for weeks, were unmasked to the enemy and opened simultaneously from 48 guns. The astonished rebels soon replied with great rapidity. As the ball opened, the inhabitants of Secessionville,
on James Island, crowded to the roofs of the houses till they were black with them, to witness the battle. Our gunboats shelled the batteries with good effect, and the enemy discovering our position in the boats, scattered grape and cannister among us with fearful rapidity. There we lay in the boats for two hours under a heavy fire, while the rebels divided their compliments among us and the gunners at our batteries. The batteries did not seem to have the desired effect of dispersing the enemy, and Gen. Strong was signalled to land his forces and charge upon their works. The rebels perceiving the signal and interpreted its meaning, directed a galling fire at the boats. One boat of the Sixth was struck and a member of Co. “E” lost a leg which soon caused his death; another was wounded and the boat overturned, but was soon righted by help from others and the men rescued. We pulled for the shore, eager to land, and while a detachment of the Seventh Connecticut landed first on the left of the rifle pits and were feeling their way. The old Sixth sprang into the water knee deep and was soon directly in front of their battery; rushing forward with bayonets fixed and with an honest Union cheer. The rebels depressed their guns to rake us as we landed, but the shot struck the ground in front of us and passed over our heads, and the amazed rebels, seeing our determination, turned to flee just as we gained the first line of
works, but we were too quick for them, and the Sixth captured 125 prisoners and a rebel flag. Private Roper Hounslow, of Co. “D,” saw the bearer of the flag making for the rear as fast as his legs could carry him, when he ordered him to halt; but he would not, and he shot him through the head. The flag was inscribed “Pocotaligo, Oct. 22, 1862.” It had blood stains upon it which were probably spilled at that place. Col. Chatfield waved the banner aloft, feeling very much elated to think we had captured the flag that bore this inscription, for he received a wound at Pocotaligo. Col. Chatfield led his men to the last range of rifle pits, which was within a rifle shot of Fort Wagner. The Sixth had the advance all day. Our flags were riddled with shell, and the staff of the stars and stripes was broken in three different places. A rebel ramrod was substituted for the broken staff, and our flags floated from the only house on the island. This house was the headquarters for the rebel officers, and when we entered it the coffee was in cups on the table and breakfast nearly ready; but we did not stop to eat, as we were looking for water; and seeing the coffee, disposed of it in short meter. Two solid shot from Fort Wagner came tearing through the house, demolishing the chimney and scattering the bricks upon the tables in great confusion. We concluded that we might be demolished if we remained in there long, so went
out; the house being a good target, it was soon riddled with shell from Forts Sumpter and Wagner.
We remained at the front till about sunset, under a severe fire continually. Tired and footsore, with hardly anything to eat, and without sleep for three nights, we were glad when orders came for us to fall to the rear and another regiment to take our place. Gen. Strong was active all day and infused spirit into the soldiers by his commanding aspect. When we landed he was burdened with a pair of long military boots upon his feet, and as we jumped into the water these became so full that locomotion was well nigh impossible, so he pulled them off and threw them away, going in his stockings. The briars over the sand hills soon wore the bottoms of these off, and having captured a rebel mule, got astride of him and went forward with a cheer from the soldiers. Soon after the battle he appeared among the members of the Sixth, still astride the mule, who looked jaded enough. “Boys,” said he, “I don’t look like a General, but you look and have acted like true soldiers,” and immediately rode away, followed by the cheers of the soldiers.
It was determined to assault Fort Wagner and capture it with the bayonet. The Seventh Connecticut was to lead the charge, supported by the Ninth Maine and Seventy-sixth Pennsylvania. Early on the morning of the 11th, before the lark was awake, this command
silently moved forward, drove in the rebel pickets and with a cheer rushed into the ditch and up the parapet, but met a very stubborn foe, who poured grape and cannister into their ranks. The Ninth Maine, instead of supporting them, wavered, at such a fearful fire, and ran away, while the Seventy-sixth Pennsylvania stood their ground. But the battle was against fearful odds, and they were obliged to retire and give up the contest. The Sixth lay all night in the rifle pits before Wagner, in a drenching rain, keeping a sharp look out for any surprise. On the morning of the 18th they came into camp wet and covered with sand, weary enough to lay up for a rest; but there is no rest for the soldier in time of war. Scarcely had we brushed off the sand and got a bite of pork and crackers before we were ordered to join in the assault on Wagner at dark. Never was an order more cheerfully obeyed, especially as the word passed around that Col. Chatfield was to lead us into action, the Colonel declaring his preference “to stand or fall with the men of the Sixth,” and refusing the honor of commanding our brigade, which belonged to him as the ranking officer. The gunboats shelled the rebel fort incessantly, plowing up great heaps of sand with one shell, and another perhaps would fill up the crevice. The broadsides from the New Ironsides were terrific, and the five monitors in line, together with five other gunboats, seemed to