Weighing anchor, we passed down the bay to Hampton Roads, Va., where we remained several days, waiting like Micawber, for something to turn up. Finally, the union jack gave the signal for sailing, and glad enough were we at the prospect of soon being able to step on terra firma once more. Two days out from Hampton Roads we experienced a terrible storm at sea, and for several hours the prospects of seeing anything but a broken wreck and finding a watery grave, were exceedingly dubious. Wave after wave poured over us. The hatches were fastened and everything on deck was lashed tight to prevent being washed away. The red glare of the lightning, with the terrific peals of thunder, made the scene awfully grand. Now in the trough of the sea and another moment upon the crest of the waves, with all on board terribly sea-sick, was a picture not
very pleasant to dwell upon. Our fleet became scattered and two vessels were sunk; others had horses washed overboard; while another was forced to throw into the deep her entire armament, which consisted of some improved guns which we expected would do some very effective service. A merciful Providence permitted us to outride the storm and once more see the scattered fleet all together again, save those that went to the bottom. Many a prayer of thankfulness went up to God for our safe deliverance from such a storm.
A day or two of pleasant sailing brought us at anchor in the harbor of Port Royal, South Carolina, with two very formidable looking rebel batteries on either side of the harbor. Here we saw that our mission was to reduce these works and gain a foothold on South Carolina soil. The rebel soldiers gazed at us from their strongholds, and two very scaly looking gunboats ventured down from their hiding place a short distance above the batteries, and sent us their compliments in the shape of a few shells for about the space of half an hour, but with no damage to our fleet; but as soon as one of Uncle Sam’s boats gave them a few messengers of war, they were glad enough to change front to the rear and troubled us no more that day.
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.