Part 11

The Valley City left Jamesville at 8 a.m., December 12, and dredged the river, as I have described. In the evening we had proceeded a few miles above Jamesville. I will now quote as I have it in my diary, which was written at that time.

Tuesday, December 13, at 5:30 p.m., we were ordered back to Jamesville to cover the army. (I will state by way of parenthesis that the army forces at Plymouth, commanded by Colonel Frankle, had promised the fleet their co-operation, but in this the fleet was disappointed.) We proceeded down the river as far as the fleet, when our orders were countermanded and we returned to dredge the river. The remainder of the fleet would lay at anchor, whilst the dredging party, with the Valley City, would proceed four or five miles up the river; then the balance of the fleet would get under weigh and steam up to the Valley City, and then come to an anchor again; but when the rebels commenced to thicken in the woods along the river, the fleet kept together behind the dredging party.

Friday, December 16.--We have been dredging the river, and have advanced to within a short distance of Williamston. At 12 m. we arrived at Williamston. I went ashore at this place. It is a small place on the right bank of the Roanoke river--the ground rising gently from the river to the rear of the town. The houses are built of frame, and very much scattered. A family I visited there showed me a hole in their house made by a Federal shell passing through it. One of the inmates of the house had been sitting in a chair in a room in the line of the shell, and just a moment before the shell came crashing through the house the lady went into an adjoining room, thus escaping. The chair in which she had been sitting was knocked to atoms. At 1 p.m. we left Williamston, and at 5 p.m. we anchored.

Saturday, December 17.--We lay at anchor all day. In the morning I was astonished to see a hog swim across the Roanoke river immediately in front of us, because I have always heard it said that swine will not swim. This was the first and only hog I ever saw swim. At 11 a.m. I went ashore to where an old man lived; he was covered with rags, and lived in a secluded spot close by the water's edge. He had no family but a little boy about eleven years of age. There was not even a cow or horse to be seen--everything around him betokened distress and misery. I asked him how long he had been living here. He replied, "I have been living here six years." I then asked him if he enjoyed this sort of life. He answered, "No." I asked him if he had an education. He said, "I can neither read nor write." I then asked if he intended to give his son an education. He replied that before the war he had intended to give his son an education, but now times were so hard that it was barely possible for him to get sufficient to eat. After bidding him farewell, I returned aboard.

Sunday, December 18.--At 2 p.m. we got under weigh to dredge the river. At 5 p.m. we anchored for the night. The nights are dark and foggy, and the rebel musketeers and sharpshooters frequently come up under cover of the darkness behind the dykes, and give us a wholesome dose from their rifles; but they are soon hurled back again by a dose of grape from our guns. During the nights, to prevent floating torpedoes coming down the river, small boats or skiffs that we had captured from the enemy were tied in line across the river above the fleet.

Monday, December 20.--The launches that have been dredging the river have been fired into, and Acting Master Wells and two men of the Chicopee were wounded. This event caused the rowers to become so much panic-stricken that they dropped their oars, lay down in the bottom of the launches, and allowed their boats to float down with the current. It was with much difficulty that Captain J. A. J. Brooks, by calling to them from the Valley City, could get them aroused; but finally they came alongside. We, however, kept on dredging the river till we came to a point in the Roanoke river, where we anchored. The river at this point where the fleet is anchored makes a bend like that of a horseshoe. The ground on the inside of the bend, on the right bank of the river, is low and level, and covered with young saplings or undergrowth. At the heels of this horseshoe bend ran a high ridge, covered partly with poplar trees and partly with white-oak trees. The fleet lay on the Plymouth stretch of the river, or near stretch, and at the end of the far stretch where the river runs under the high bluff, the rebels, as we ascertained afterwards, had fortified with artillery, and an army said to be ten thousand strong. We did not then suspect we would find the rebels in force, till we got to Rainbow Bluff. This place was known by the name of Poplar Point.

All the fleet was at anchor, and had been since 3 o'clock p.m. The day was beautiful. The fish were nibbling at pieces of hard tack which had been thrown overboard by the sailors. The current of the river rushed swiftly past, making the rudder flap in the water. The men were lounging about on the berth deck, resting. The cook was preparing supper, the messenger boys were carrying victuals from the galley to the ward-room, and placing them on the table. The officer of the deck was pacing to and fro on the starboard side of the vessel. Captain Brooks was in his cabin. Many of the officers were in the ward-room. All else was quiet. I was pacing the port side of the Valley City. Pilot John A. Lewis was standing on the after hatchway, a little above the gun-deck amidships. As I approached him in walking from the bow of the vessel towards him, I said to him, "Pilot, what do you think of the prospect of getting to Rainbow Bluff?" He replied, "I think we will get there by and by, if we have patience and the rebels don't blow us up." Just as I was turning to pace to the bow of the Valley City, I heard a report ashore like that of a number of barrels of fire-crackers exploding. Simultaneously with this explosion, I heard the zipping of bullets in the air close to my head, and striking the bulwarks of the vessel close by me. Then artillery fire commenced.

In the meantime three loud and prolonged rattles were sprung by the officer of the deck, calling all hands to quarters. I ran down the forward hatchway and through the berth-deck to the dispensary, which was my station, and which was just in front of the boiler on the berth-deck, and at the foot of the steps of the hatchway on which John A. Lewis was standing when the firing commenced. He was passed down to me, killed by a bullet from a sharp-shooter, passing through his head from ear to ear. John A. Lewis was pilot of the ill-fated Otsego, and had been ordered aboard the Valley City for general duty after the sinking of that vessel. At the time that pilot John A. Lewis was killed, I had my full officer's uniform on, but he had on a blouse and soft felt hat. I felt certain at the time that the ball that killed John A. Lewis was intended for me, as I was nearly in line of the shot.

The rebels made it pretty warm for us from 5 to 9 o'clock p.m. The Valley City was struck three times with shell, and fired one hundred and thirty-six shots. One of the shells that struck the Valley City came into a lamp-closet just over my head and near the end of the boiler, but did not explode. An old sailor sitting near by where I was standing, upon seeing the ceiling broken above my head, said, "Don't be alarmed; lightning nor shells never strike twice in the same place." Another shell went crashing through the ward-room, down through an old family Bible (which Acting Ensign Milton Webster had captured ashore), and then out of the ward-room through a passage-way in which some negroes off the Otsego were lying concealed, killing them, and then exploding in the river. In the meantime, the remainder of the fleet kept up a constant fire.

During the battle, Acting Ensign Milton Webster performed some acts of daring, by taking the end of a hawser in a cutter, manned by negroes, ashore, and making it fast to a tree, under a shower of bullets and shells. The cutter was pierced several times with bullets, but nobody in it was hurt. The hawser was made fast to the tree for the purpose of drawing the stern of the Valley City around so as to bring her guns to bear on the enemy.

After a brisk fire from the fleet for four hours, the rebels ceased firing, but annoyed the fleet during the night by squads of infantry firing from behind the dykes and then running away. It was dangerous to have a light aboard the vessel, and we were therefore compelled to take our suppers as best we could in the dark.

Tuesday, December 20.--We are engaged in burying the dead and skirmishing with the enemy, the rebels with their accustomed barbarity firing on the burying party. We were annoyed all day by the sharpshooters and batteries of the enemy, but continued to hold our own and to keep the enemy back.

On Wednesday, December 21, the Valley City weighed anchor at 2:10 o'clock p.m. The Confederates were firing musketry at the Wyalusing. At 2:40 p.m. the Valley City steamed ahead, around the turn which opened up the far stretch of the river. This stretch of the river was covered by rebel artillery. The Valley City had scarcely showed her bow around the turn, till she received a severe shot from the rebel batteries, which plunged diagonally through the pilot-house, which was lined outside with half-inch iron, knocking off the door thereto, wounding three men--the pilot John A. Wilson, Charles Hall, and John Wood: the latter two were mortally wounded. The Valley City immediately dropped out of range of said battery, and came to anchor at 3:05 p.m. In the evening the fleet dropped farther down on the near stretch of the river. The Valley City lost her torpedo-fender.

December 22.--Last night we were again annoyed by musketry and sharpshooters ashore. During the day, after burying the dead, the Valley City dropped down below the fleet to arrange on her bows another torpedo-fender. About 2:20 p.m. we heard loud whistling from steam launch No. 5, which was bringing up the mail from Plymouth. I was standing on the poop-deck, and through the bushes on the flat on the inside of the bend I saw a regiment of rebels running towards the launch, at the same time keeping up a rapid fire at her. The Valley City dropped her torpedo-fender, steamed down, and after firing a few shots of grape at the rebels, they retreated. In the meantime, Commander W. H. Macomb learned that the rebels had been removing their batteries that commanded the far stretch of the river to a point below us, so as to command the near stretch, and if possible prevent our returning down the river, and thereby capture the fleet. Matters were becoming desperate, and Commander Macomb therefore determined to retreat down the river. The Valley City was the first to go by the rebel batteries, the remainder of the fleet keeping up a rapid fire at them. The current of the river was so strong, and the bend under the rebel batteries so sharp, that the Valley City whirled round like a water-wheel, first striking the bow against the shore, and then the stern. I was fearful we might be boarded. An attempt was also made to fell trees on the fleet whilst passing. After the Valley City had passed safely by the rebel batteries, she came to anchor, trained her guns on the enemy, and in conjunction with the remainder of the fleet above the bend of the river, kept up a rapid fire whilst a second vessel passed; and thus one vessel of the fleet after another passed safely around the turn of the river, under fire of the rebel batteries.

Commander Macomb now gave the Valley City orders to proceed down the river cautiously, and have the river dredged in our rear. For a short distance Captain J. A. J. Brooks had the men in cutters, dredging the river; but after consulting his executive officer, Milton Webster, Acting Assistant Paymaster J. W. Sands and myself, as to the propriety of steaming down the river without dredging it, it was agreed upon to call the dredge-boats in, and we proceeded down the river, shelling the woods on right bank of the river and then came to an anchor above Williamston.

Friday, December 23.--The Valley City continued steaming down the river, and anchored off Williamston at 12 m. At 1 p.m. she weighed anchor and steamed to off Jamesville, where she arrived at 5 p.m., the remainder of the fleet following close in our rear.

On Saturday, December 24, the Valley City proceeded two miles up the river to tug the Chicopee off, which had got transversely across the river, preventing the fleet behind her from descending. The Valley City returned and anchored off Jamesville at 10 o'clock a.m. The fleet is all now anchored off Jamesville, and is engaged in destroying the wreck of the Otsego. During this expedition I never had my clothes or shoes off.

On Thursday, December 29, at 11-1/2 o'clock a.m. the Valley City weighed anchor and proceeded to Plymouth, where we arrived at 12-1/2 p.m.

NEWBERN.

ADDITIONAL DETAILS OF THE EXPEDITION UP ROANOKE RIVER. THE FLEET REACHES POPLAR POINT. FROM OUR NEWBERN (N.C.) CORRESPONDENT.

NEWBERN, N.C. DECEMBER 27, 1864.

The expedition that left Plymouth, N.C., on the 9th instant, has returned and anchored off Jamesville, Roanoke river, having by arduous labor accomplished results that reflect great credit upon the commanding officer and his subordinates.

ORGANIZATION OF THE EXPEDITION.

The naval portion of this expedition sailed from Plymouth on the evening of the 9th instant, in the following order: Wyalusing, Lieutenant Commander Earl English, bearing the broad pennant of Commander W. H. Macomb, commanding the fourth division of the North Atlantic squadron; Valley City, Acting Master J. A. J. Brooks; Otsego, Commander Arnold; Chicopee, Commander Hannell; Bazeley, Acting Ensign Aimes; tug Belle, Acting Master Green; and the picket launch No. 5, Acting Ensign Chapman. The Shamrock was to follow.

A land force commanded by Colonel Frankle had started from Plymouth at daylight the same morning, to co-operate with the fleet.

THE OTSEGO DESTROYED BY A TORPEDO.

Without interruption, the squadron at 9 o'clock the same night arrived at Jamesville, a small town above Plymouth some twelve miles, when the signal to anchor was made from the flag-ship. The night being dark, and the river flowing rapidly in its narrow and tortuous channel, it was thought best to proceed no further until daylight. The Wyalusing had just let go her anchor a few yards above the town, when two loud reports were heard astern, and dense volumes of smoke and steam were seen to envelop the Otsego. That fine vessel had struck two torpedoes, one under the port coal-bunker, the other beneath the keelson, driving a large hole through her bottom, and throwing one of her hundred-pounder rifled Parrotts into the air. She sank in fifteen minutes in three fathoms of water, being a complete wreck. Her officers and men lost all their clothing, except what they had on at the moment of the explosion, but were cared for by their comrades of the other vessels, who hurried to their rescue, and periled their own lives in saving their shipwrecked fellow-sailors. Commander Arnold behaved with great coolness, and his self-possession soon restored order and discipline on board the sunken ship, or rather on her hurricane deck, which alone remained out of water.

DESTRUCTION OF THE BAZELEY.