Volume Ii Part 9 (1/2)
A more successful expedition was organized in October, by Lieut.
Harrill of the steamer ”Union.” He had been informed that a large schooner was lying in Quantico Creek, and that the Confederates were ma.s.sing a number of troops there for the purpose of crossing the river. He at once determined to destroy the schooner. Accordingly he manned three boats at half-past two in the morning, and in the darkness proceeded, with m.u.f.fled oars, toward the mouth of the creek.
Here some difficulty was experienced, as the entrance is narrow and obstructed by sandbars; but working energetically, and in perfect silence, the sailors overcame all obstacles. Once in the creek, they pulled rapidly along within pistol-shot of the sh.o.r.e, until the tall masts of the schooner could be descried in the darkness. One sentry was on guard, who fled wildly as he saw the mysterious boat emerge from the darkness of the night. The grappling-irons were thrown aboard, and the jackies swarmed nimbly up the sides, and began the work of destruction. A huge pile of combustibles was made in the cabin, and hastily set on fire. The flames spread rapidly; and, though they insured the destruction of the schooner, they also lighted up the creek, showing the boats with the sailors bending to their oars to escape the storm of bullets that they knew must follow. The glare of the burning schooner, the reflection of the flames on the water, the flash of the rifles from the sh.o.r.es made a wild picture. Occasionally a flash from the river was followed by a deep boom, as a heavy shot left the muzzle of a cannon on the steamers. But through it all, the men escaped; and the projected invasion of the Confederates was abandoned, owing to the loss of their schooner.
All through the war this untiring patrol of the Potomac was continued.
Among miasmatic vapors and clouds of noxious insects on mud-flats, in narrow channels whose densely wooded banks might conceal legions of hostile sharp-shooters, the river navy kept up its work. Earning but little glory, though in the midst of constant peril, the officers and men kept up their work, and contributed not a little to the final outcome of the great conflict.
All this time the officers of the naval vessels, riding at anchor in Hampton Roads, were chafing under the enforced idleness. Even the occasional artillery duels with which their army brethren whiled away the time were denied to the wistful blue-jackets. Beyond an occasional chase, generally useless, after a fleet blockade-runner, the sailors had absolutely no employment. At last, however, the opportunity came.
The first great naval expedition of the war was set under way.
From Cape Henry, at the mouth of the James River, the coast of Virginia and North Carolina sweeps grandly out to the eastward, like a mammoth bow, with its lower end at Beaufort, two hundred miles south.
Along this coast-line the great surges of mighty ocean, rolling with unbroken course from the far-off sh.o.r.e of Europe, trip and fall with unceasing roar upon an almost uninterrupted beach of snowy sand, a hundred and more miles long. Near the southern end of this expanse of sand stands a lighthouse, towering solitary above the surrounding plain of sea and sand. No inviting beacon giving notice to the weary marines of safe haven is this steady light that pierces the darkness night after night. It tells of treacherous shoals and roaring breakers; of the loss of many a good s.h.i.+p, whose ribs, half buried in the drifting sand, lie rotting in the salt air; of skies ever treacherous, and waters ever turbulent. It is the light of Hatteras.
Some twenty miles below Cape Hatteras light occurs the first great opening in the stretch of sand that extends south from Cape Henry.
Once he has pa.s.sed through this opening; the mariner finds himself in the most peaceful waters. The great surges of the Atlantic spend themselves on the sandy fringe outside, while within are the quiet waters of Pamlico and Albemarle Sounds, dotted with fertile islands, and bordering a coast rich in harbors. The wary blockade-runner, eluding the watchfulness of the United States blockaders cruising outside, had but to pa.s.s the portals of Hatteras Inlet, to unload at his leisure his precious cargo, and load up with the cotton which grew in great abundance on the islands and fertile sh.o.r.es of the sound.
Recognizing the importance of this harbor, the Confederates had early in the war fortified the point north of Hatteras Inlet. Shortly after the fall of Fort Sumter, a Yankee skipper, Daniel Campbell, incautiously running his schooner the ”Lydia Francis” too near the stormy cape, was wrecked, and sought shelter among the people at the inlet. When, some days after, he proposed to leave, he was astounded to find that he had been delivered from the sea only to fall a prey to the fortunes of war. He was kept a prisoner for three months; and on his release, going directly to Fortress Monroe, he proved that he had kept his eyes open to some purpose. He reported to flag-officer Stringham that the Confederates had two batteries,--one of ten, the other of five guns,--known as Fort Hatteras and Fort Clark. With these two forts the Confederates claimed that they could control the entrance to Albemarle Sound.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Fleet off Hatteras.]
As soon as this information was received, an expedition for the destruction of these forts was organized. It was necessarily chiefly naval, although a land force under Gen. Butler went with the fleet. On Aug. 25, 1861, Hampton Roads presented a scene of the greatest activity. The fleet seemed to have awakened from a long sleep. Every vessel was being hastily prepared for sailing. Two transports, the ”George Peabody” and the ”Adelaide,” were crowded with the soldiers of Gen. Butler's command. From the mainmast of the flags.h.i.+p ”Minnesota”
waved the signal-flags, changing constantly as different orders were sent to the commanders of the other wars.h.i.+ps. At two o'clock three b.a.l.l.s of bunting were run up to the truck, and catching the breeze were blown out into flags, giving the order, ”Get under way at once.”
From the surrounding men-of-war came the shrill pipe of the boatswains' whistle, and the steady tramp of the men at the capstan bars as they dragged the anchors to the cat-heads. The nimble blue-jackets, climbing about the shrouds and yards, soon had the snowy clouds of canvas set. The wind was fresh; and with bands playing, and cheers of blue-jackets and soldiers, the stately squadron sailed down the bay.
But none on board, save the superior officers, knew whither the fleet was bound. Hardly were they fairly on the Atlantic, when the course was shaped to the southward, and that much was settled. But whether New Orleans, Charleston, or Beaufort was the point to be attacked, the sailors did not know.
The squadron which sailed from Hampton Roads consisted of the war-vessels ”Minnesota,” ”Wabash,” ”p.a.w.nee,” ”Monticello,” and ”Harriet Lane;” the transports ”George Peabody” and ”Adelaide;” and the tug ”f.a.n.n.y.” Soon after rounding Cape Henry, the vessels became separated; and when the other vessels reached Hatteras, on the 27th, the ”Minnesota” and ”Wabash” were nowhere to be seen. As these were the most powerful frigates of the fleet, great fears were felt for the success of the expedition; but at last they appeared on the horizon. A place for landing was selected, and the vessels withdrew into the offing to spend the night. It was determined to begin the attack early the next day.
The morning dawned clear, with a calm sea. At four o'clock the men were summoned to breakfast. At seven the operation of landing the troops was begun. All the surf-boats, barges, and lifeboats in the fleet were put to the work. The great war-vessels moved into position, and prepared to cover with a terrific fire the landing of the troops.
The first shot was fired by the ”Wabash,” and the cannonading was at once taken up by the rest of the fleet. The vessels were placed so that a whole broadside could be discharged at once. Thousands of pounds of iron b.a.l.l.s were thrown into the forts. Under cover of the cannonading, the disembarkation of the troops began.
But the opposition of the enemy was not the only difficulty to be met.
During the time consumed in getting ready to land, heavy banks of clouds had been crawling up from the horizon, and the soft wind of morning had grown into a steady blow. Cape Hatteras was true to its reputation. On the shelving beach, where the troops must land, the great rollers were breaking in torrents of foam. The first lifeboats that attempted the landing were swamped, and the soldiers reached the land wet and chilled through. The surf-boats were stove in. The barges, which had been relied upon to land men in large numbers, proved unmanageable, and were towed away by the ”Harriet Lane.” When the attempt to land the troops was given up, it was found that but three hundred and twenty men had been landed. This was too small a party to storm the forts, and the issue of the battle depended upon the great guns of the navy.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Attack on the Hatteras Forts.]
By this time the gunners on the s.h.i.+ps had calculated the exact range, and were firing with fearful effect. Broadside followed broadside, with the regularity of machinery. It was war without its horrors for the blue-jackets, since bad marksmans.h.i.+p or poor powder prevented the Confederate gunners doing any damage. On the gun-deck of the superb frigate ”Minnesota,” the jackies were working their guns as coolly as though they were on drill. The operations of loading and firing were gone through with like clock-work. The officers could watch the course of the sh.e.l.ls until they struck, and instruct the men, without undergoing any danger.
But in the forts the scene was one of terror. As soon as the gunners of the fleet had secured the range, the sh.e.l.ls began cras.h.i.+ng into the fort, bewildering the untried soldiers, and driving them from their guns. A sh.e.l.l falling in the fort, and bursting, would sweep clean a s.p.a.ce thirty feet square. It was madness to try to work the guns. All sought refuge in the bomb proofs, and an occasional shot was all that showed the presence of any defenders in the forts. Soon the Confederates decided to abandon Fort Clark, the smaller of the two, and ma.s.s their forces in Fort Hatteras. As a ruse, to check the bombardment of the s.h.i.+ps, the flags on both forts were hauled down.
This was, of course, taken as a token of surrender; and as the cannonading stopped, and the clouds of gray gunpowder-smoke lifted, the shrouds of the bombarding squadron were filled with men, and cheer upon cheer rang out in honor of the victory. Soon the troops occupied the deserted battery, and the ”Monticello” was ordered into the inlet to take possession of Fort Hatteras. She had proceeded only a little way, however, when suddenly a heavy fire was opened upon her from the fort, and at the same time a large body of re-enforcements was seen approaching from the south. The gunners came down from the shrouds, stopped cheering, and began their work again. For a time the ”Monticello” was in a dangerous position. In a narrow and unknown channel, she was forced to retreat slowly, under heavy fire from the fort, being hit eight times. The heavy fire of the other vessels, however, soon drove the Confederate gunners from their guns. The sailors worked untiringly, and seemed enraged by the deceit practised by the enemy. One man, while sponging out a gun, preparatory to reloading it, dropped his sponge overboard. Quick as thought he vaulted the gunwale, and re-appeared on the surface of the water swimming for the sponge. Recovering it, he in a few moments crawled dripping through a porthole, to report respectfully to the captain of the gun: ”Just come aboard, sir.”
The fort abandoned by the Confederates had been occupied by the troops that had been landed; and, under cover of the furious bombardment, the work of landing was vigorously prosecuted. Night came, and with it a gale so heavy that the vessels had to desert their stations, and withdraw into the offing. When the morning broke, however, the sea had calmed sufficiently to allow the gunners to again set about their terrible work.
The second day's firing was even more accurate than that of the first; and the gray-coats were soon compelled to retire to the bomb-proofs, and abandon all attempt to return the fire of the s.h.i.+ps. Soon three sh.e.l.ls in rapid succession burst close to the magazine of the fort, telling plainly to the affrighted defenders that nothing was left for them but surrender. A white flag was raised, and Commodore Barron went off to the fleet to formally surrender the forts and the eight hundred men of his command. When the terms were concluded, the defeated soldier turned to flag-officer Stringham, and asked if the loss of life on the s.h.i.+ps had been very large. ”Not a man has been injured,”
was the response. ”Wonderful!” exclaimed the questioner. ”No one could have imagined that this position could have been captured without sacrificing thousands of men.” But so it was. Without the loss of a man, had fallen a most important post, together with cannon, provisions, and nearly seven hundred men.
CHAPTER V.