John Call Dalton, M.D., U.S.V.

by John Call Dalton

From our point of observation we could not tell what effect had been produced thus far on the walls or parapets of either side; but neither the fire of the fort nor that of the batteries appeared seriously impaired. It seemed likely that several days might pass before a decisive result, and we waited patiently to see what the morrow would bring forth. We could not cross directly to Tybee island without coming under the guns of the fort, and could only get there by the circuitous route of Hilton Head, which would take far too much time, and would not, after all, give us so good a view of both sides as we already had. Moreover, a new mortar battery was to be established that night, from General Viele's command, on an island above the fort, to bombard it from the rear.

Next morning the music of the great guns began again. Neither side seemed disabled or disheartened, and the cannonading went on much as it had done the day before. But we had our own duties to perform, and however interesting the spectacle we could not watch it continuously. Early in the afternoon I was at a little distance from the house, when I missed all at once the sound of the guns. One five minutes passed by, and then another, but the silence continued. What did it mean? Were the batteries silenced, and the game played out and lost? That was hardly likely, because then the fort would no doubt become the attacking party and keep on worrying the batteries till they could be abandoned at nightfall. Still this was only a surmise, and we knew not what reason there might be against it. Hastily regaining our observatory on the roof, every available telescope was leveled at the parapet of the fort, where a white flag was visible in place of the rebel ensign. Pulaski had surrendered.

I do not think any one expected the end so soon. The fire of the fort had been nearly as vigorous the second day as the first. Its means of active defense were evidently far from exhausted; and yet it had given up the fight, as it were on a sudden, while still able to hold its own and perhaps tire out the enemy at last. But there was a reason for this, which we learned soon afterward on our visit to the place.

Of course every one was anxious to see the captured fort. On the following day General Viele with his staff went on board a small steamer and started for the trip. This time we were no longer obliged to take the crooked route through Wall's Cut and around Jones' island, but steamed directly down into the Savannah river opposite the fort. As we approached this frowning stronghold that had so long held us at bay, its effect was something to be remembered. Its massive walls covering five or six acres of ground, and its double row of heavy guns, seemed well able to repel intruders. For nearly three months we had looked at it with a mingled feeling of desire and dread. It would have been dangerous at any time to show ourselves within a mile of it; and it would have been a prison to any who should venture within a few hundred yards. Now we could tie up at the steamboat landing, and walk over the long pathway to its gorge, unchallenged by any but our own sentries. Inside, it was a strange sight; the parade ground was scored with deep trenches to receive the falling shells, and the interior walls were fenced with great blindages of square hewn timbers at an angle of forty-five degrees. For the garrison had been at work on their side, almost as hard as the besiegers. In many places the blindages were splintered by shot and shell, and the passage-ways beneath obstructed with the torn fragments.

The main effect of the cannonading was to be seen at the southeast angle of the fort. The outer wall was crumbled and ruined to such a degree that two of the casemates were open at the front and their guns half buried in the fallen débris; and the ditch, forty-eight feet wide, was partly filled with a confused heap of shattered masonry. Here it was that Captain Gillmore had concentrated the fire of his breaching batteries. As an army engineer, he was acquainted with the construction of Fort Pulaski; and he knew that the powder magazine was located at its northwest angle. This would bring it, after the breaching of the opposite wall, in the direct line of fire; and when the shells from his rifled guns began to pass through the opening and strike the defenses of the magazine, no choice was left to the garrison but surrender. They found themselves in momentary danger of explosion, and wisely lost no time in bringing the contest to an end.

The siege of Fort Pulaski was a very different affair from the battle of Port Royal. One was a naval, the other a military victory. At Hilton Head the troops could not have landed anywhere except under the protection of the navy; and after the reduction of the forts there was no longer any enemy to oppose them. At Pulaski the troops took possession of Tybee island, which the rebel commander had neglected or thought it unnecessary to protect, and planted their batteries on the only ground from which the fort could be attacked. Some valuable assistance was rendered by the gunboats in patrolling the neighboring sounds and inlets, but the main part of the work throughout was that of the artillerist and engineer.

I do not know why the enemy failed to interrupt this work by shelling the narrow strip of land, more than a mile in length, over which all the material for the batteries had to be transported. They must have known that something of this kind was the sole purpose for which our forces had occupied Tybee island; and their elaborate preparations for defense inside the fort showed that they were fully aware from what direction the attack would come. Perhaps after the fort was invested from above, they wished to economize their ammunition for the final struggle. Still one would think that a few shells expended while the batteries were in progress would be of more service than an equal number after their completion.

But perhaps the enemy were not very well acquainted with Tybee island, and supposed that our troops could reach the front by some other route than the one they were really compelled to follow. Notwithstanding the proximity of the island, it is possible that the rebel commander did not know its important features for military operations. In General Barnard's Report on the Defences of Washington in 1861, it appears that at that time the engineer corps of the regular army had no accurate surveys of the region south of the Potomac river opposite the national capital; so that the proper location for a number of the defensive works could not be fixed upon until after our troops were in possession of the ground. He even says that many of our engineer officers were more familiar with the military topography of the neighborhood of Paris than with that surrounding the city of Washington. If the defenders of Fort Pulaski in 1862 were equally ignorant of Tybee island, it might account for their apparent inactivity during the siege operations.