Night came on and the fight still continued. Signals by light were made to the fleet how to direct their fire. At one o'clock in the morning the battle was ended by the enemy surrendering. The last prop was knocked from under the Confederacy; their great source of supplies was cut off. Blockade-running was ended. General Sherman would have a new base of supplies. Richmond would soon have to be evacuated. The day the fort was captured, Ben Butler was in Washington, demonstrating to the authorities, theoretically, why Fort Fisher was impregnable. Captain Breeze and Lieutenants Cushing, Preston, and Porter, from the flagship Malvern, had command of the sailors. Preston and Porter were fellow-prisoners of mine at Columbia. Both were killed early in the attack, Preston by a shell from the fleet, and Porter by a bullet. Cushing, with all his bravery, was not the last officer of the retreat down the beach—not by long odds. It is now a matter of history that Captain Breese with two hundred sailors actually got inside the fort and remained there until nightfall. That is all bosh. The fact is, they were behind the sand-dunes when the panic occurred—it being much safer to remain there than to be running the gauntlet down to the sea. After dark they retreated in good order. If they had really got into the fort, I will guarantee that they would not have remained there very long. The sailor who got closest to the traverses was an ensign from the gunboat Sassacus, and he was killed. Ensign Dayton, my fellow-officer, had not been seen by me since we landed. When I next saw him it was on board the Nereus. He said he had been with Captain Breese. He received some very plain talk from me for not helping to look after our own men. There was enough to be attended to—the wounded to be sent to the vessel, the dead to be identified and buried, and, the most difficult job, to corral the live ones and get them off to the Nereus. They were scattered all over our newly acquired territory. It was not every day they could get ashore, and they were certainly making good use of their opportunities.
Early in the morning the dead sailors were laid side by side, forming a long row. Their caps, having the ship's name on in gilt letters, were placed on their breasts, and a slip of paper, giving his full name, was fastened to each man's shirt. It was a weird sight. All of them were fine-looking young men. I had placed the names on the men belonging to the Nereus, and went towards the fort, and as I got near the traverses I was nearly thrown off my feet by a sudden shaking of the ground; then I saw an immense conical-shaped mass of earth and timbers thrown high into the air; then a large circle of dust descended and covered everything in our vicinity. We all looked as if we had been pulled through a chimney. One of the magazines in the fort had blown up. The remnant of a Wisconsin regiment was stationed in the fort after its surrender, and the explosion killed nearly all.
Quite a number of us assisted in getting the dead and wounded from the ruins. At first it was supposed that a torpedo connected by wires with Fort Anderson had caused the disaster, but it was afterward decided that it had been an accident. The Confederate prisoners were then furnished with shovels, and forced to dig up a number of torpedoes that had been buried on the outside of the fortification.
No wonder our troops had hard work to capture that place, for, by the peculiar construction of the interior defences, it was easy to repel the attacking forces. Towards evening I succeeded in getting the survivors of our detachment on board the Nereus, and was very particular about having our quota of small-arms sent with them—carbines, revolvers, and cutlasses, fifty-two of each. No questions were asked about their being the same ones we took ashore with us. The gunner's report was "All arms returned," and nothing more was necessary. The fact that Dayton brought his extra equipments unknown to me was not commented on.
My report, accounting for all the men, was given to the executive officer, and then I had something to eat. I went to bed, having had no sleep for thirty-six hours, but I had enough glory to last me for a long time. The next night the rebels blew up Forts Caswell and Anderson, and beat a hasty retreat for Wilmington. General Terry soon after captured the latter place. The hospital transport came alongside the Nereus and took off our wounded men, and I have never seen or heard of one of them since. Our anchor was weighed and we returned to Beaufort for a supply of ammunition and coal, and as soon as possible started for the West Indies to join our squadron.
About eight days after our departure from Beaufort we sighted Turks Island, and, going through the Mariguana Passage, we soon had a view of the high mountains of the Island of Haiti. The weather was fine and quite a contrast to that of New York. The awnings were spread to protect us from the hot sun, and heavy clothing was discarded.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE ISLAND OF HAITI
Cape Haitien is a queer little town built on the shore of a bay at the foot of a very high mountain. When the French possessed the place it was called "La petite Paris," but an earthquake tumbled all the buildings, and generally wrecked the whole place. A great many of the ruins still remain. Some of the stone was utilized for new habitations, but most of it was left where it had fallen.
The negroes had no ambition to restore the place to its former grandeur, and only a few white men were to be found among its inhabitants. Mahogany, logwood, and coffee were the only exports, and those only in small quantities. We had arrived on a Sunday afternoon, and several of us went on shore to visit the American consul, as an act of courtesy, and then strolled through the town. Whisky was not allowed on board a man-of-war, and it was quite natural for us to want a drink on our arrival in a foreign country. Stopping at the only hotel, we ordered a "brandy smash," and it nearly paralyzed the whole crowd. The atmosphere was quite warm, and so was the brandy and water. There was no ice in the whole town, and of all the mixed drinks I ever had that was the worst. We had received some gold money from the paymaster, and a five-dollar piece was given in payment for the aforesaid drinks. Well, the change that was returned almost finished what the "smash" had not quite done, for about sixty-four one-dollar bills were counted out, each printed on bright yellow paper, about five by seven inches in size. "Une Gourde"—meaning "one dollar"—was printed in large and small letters all over the face of the note, and then, in French, something about its redemption at a certain period.