flame, and our little army all safe and secure from surprise. The Fort was a miserably poor concern. In a short time after our occupation of it, the enemy came back in force, in the woods near, fronting the enclosure. It was now about four o'clock. We had accomplished our object, and “filled the bill,” and as night was fast setting in upon us, Gen. Stevens, expecting the enemy would make a night attack, gave orders for the men to lie on their arms. Pickets were extended and advanced. We called it a kind of “reconnoissance in body,” and were well satisfied with our day's work. I might say night and day, for we were on the march (those who did any marching) from four A. M. until we met the enemy, except while crossing on to the “Main.” Gen. Sherman gave the orders to go to Port Royal Ferry, take the Fort, bring off the guns, feel of the enemy, and come back; and I can heartily and truly express the sentiments of officers and men — especially of Gen. Stevens, for he is “fight way up to the handle” --and say, not one but what could go to “Uncle Tim,” as they call him in his battery, and say, “General Sherman (as Metamora)
You've sent for me and I've come.” And so they would go back, every man of them, and only give them their field artillery, their light batteries, they could easily take the enemy's artillery. It seems, to all appearances, the rebels had six guns in the Fort, five six-inch and one twelve-pounder cannon — an old English piece. The five, undoubtedly, were the self-same guns which did not arrive on Hilton Head, when sent for by the enemy to cover a retreat from old “Fort Walker.” The enemy tried to get the twelve-pounder off, but no go; so they spiked it. You can count on the loss of the enemy as hundreds, while we lost only two wounded and taken prisoners. Their names are: Corporal J. Q. Adams, and private Edward Brooks, both of Company A, Eighth Michigan; M. Weidenheimer, Company E, Fiftieth Pennsylvania, wounded in right foot; Ensign Herbert, wounded in right leg by rebel shell. One man of the Forty-eighth New-York was wounded in the leg. The names of the wounded, all belonging to the Eighth Michigan, are as follows: Major A. B. Watson, Minie rifle — ball in upper part of thigh, getting along very comfortably. Privates Ira Armstrong, Company A, shot through the lower right thigh; A. B. Miller, Co. A, upper right leg; Amos Wetherbee, Co. B, shot through the side. Nathaniel K. Thayer, Co. C, left leg; William Wood, Co. I, lower part of right thigh; James W. Rich, Sergt. Co. I, slightly in right thigh. All wounded by riflebullets, and all in the legs. Summary.--One officer wounded; nine privates wounded; two privates wounded and missing. Total, twelve. None killed. In the affair, Gen. Stevens has shown himself worthy to occupy the position he now occupies, and any position which requires military skill, accompanied by cool-headed planning. He is a brave soldier, and I am not doing him more than common justice, when I say that to a dot our arrangements were a perfect success, formed by a soldier of the first order. The rebels, right in the heat of our heavy firing from the gunboats, sent a flag of truce, but only got far enough along a causeway, near the woods, to inform us, in a loud voice, that they wanted to get their wounded and dead; but the shells burst around them so thick and fast, that they were obliged to go back. As soon as the message was received by the General, he signalized, and the gunboats ceased, and he immediately sent Lieut. A. J. Holbrook, Aid-de-camp on Gen. Viele's staff, and Lieut. Lynn, of the Eighth Michigan, with a flag of truce; but to no purpose — the rebels were no where to be seen or heard. They penetrated the woods, and called at the top of their voices, but received no answer. These officers reported three men lying dead, most horribly mangled. One man had a leg blown off close to his body, and lay crosswise on the causeway; of another, nothing remained but his head and shoulders; one with a leg gone, and piece of shell through him. All along the causeway they saw fingers, hands, arms and heads! I went there this morning, and found the description given, had been too true. Dr. Kemble, Brigade Surgeon, went out and buried the dead. We observed one poor man lying in a large white house, formerly the rebel headquarters, wounded from a shell, and picked up by the negroes, and carried into this house. He was nearly disembowelled. On our retreat, we took him along, poor fellow, but he cannot live; he will die before morning, and yet has his senses. We know only what we saw, and should say three hundred rebels were killed outright, and the havoc and slaughter in the woods, caused by the bursting of those shells, God only knows. The rebels themselves will know at roll-call. The name of the wounded rebel brought in is Vallandigham, and related to the man of the same name from Ohio, a representative at Washington, who made such rabid secession speeches last winter. The negroes came out to meet us with their “God bless my massa,” “Jesus be praised,” and their poor limbs shook with joy and gladness, while the big tears coursed down their faces. They carried out the statements made by their masters, “that their negroes would fight for them,” beginning in the following order, to wit: while we were halting, previous to the advance, they rushed into the house, and pulled out feather beds, mattresses, bedding, crockery ware, and anything else they could lay their hands upon. During the fight, a rebel officer was shot from his horse, and the horse captured by Dr. Kemble. Surgeon Kemble performed double duty — attending promptly to the wounded when brought
Umph! if you don't want me,
Why, I'll go back again.