At 6 a. m. Capt. Hodges, brigade-quartermaster on Gen. Wessel’s staff, came to me and said the General had assigned me to a very delicate and dangerous duty, which was to take thirty picked men of my command, and pass between Hoke’s right and the ram, and proceed to Stewart’s Hill, which was on the river about one and a half miles below the ram, where he thought a boat’s crew from the ram would land and attempt to communicate with Hoke. My duty was to capture this boat’s crew, if possible. For a fourth of a mile we were compelled to ride in water up to our stirrups, and within eight hundred yards of the ram, which was in full sight. Any one who has ever seen a troop of cavalry ford a stream, knows what a roar they make in the water, a noise that can be heard for nearly a mile. We could not expect to reach this place without attracting the attention of those on board the ram, and as we could not go faster than a walk, we would make a fine target for their shell, and we were in momentary expectation of having them exploding about our heads.
For some reason that I never could explain, we were allowed to reach our destination without being disturbed. Stewart’s Hill, as it was called, was only a little pine knoll, containing about three acres, and is not over five feet higher than the river. After placing my men where they would not be seen, and cautioning a number of North Carolinians who had congregated there for safety, to keep out of sight, I took my station on the bank to watch for the boat.
I soon saw a boat crew put off the ram and start down the river, but they kept the north shore, which was a quarter of a mile away, and passed on down below me. Having thus failed to accomplish my mission, and knowing that marching back to Plymouth was equivalent to going into prison, I will say candidly that the temptation was great to patch up an old leaky boat I found there, or build a raft, and try to reach our gun boats in the Sound, only a little over five miles distant. But if I did, I would most likely be accused of sneaking out of a fight; for although I had no orders to return, I knew I was expected to do so, and we therefore mounted and retraced our steps back to Plymouth.
I found on my return, that Capt. Hodges had taken some men and attempted to get down the creek, but the boat was capsized and the Captain being unable to swim, was drowned. When I reported to General Wessels, he ordered me to take my men into battery Worth, which I did, spending the balance of the day and night in piling up bags of sand to strengthen our little redoubt; firing an occasional shot with our two hundred pound Parrot at the ram, which we struck many times during the day, but we could see by the aid of our field glasses, the immense projectiles glance off her heavily armored sides, like peas thrown against the round surface of a stove pipe. The projectiles were of such immense size that we could easily watch their course from the time they were twenty rods from the gun, without the aid of our glasses, and could trace their course the whole distance.
While we were busy as beavers, packing up sand bags, I noticed two or three times the zip of a minie ball past my ears, and watching the window of an old house about five hundred yards to our right, I discovered the cause. Taking a carbine from one of our men, I raised the sight for that distance, and placed it between two sand bags, and when a form appeared at the window again, took a good aim, and had the satisfaction of seeing the form suddenly disappear, and I think he received a detail for some other duty, for he did not return again to annoy us.
We worked during the whole night, expecting an attack on the right that night or the next morning, as the enemy were busy all day, throwing up an earthwork from Fort Wessels, which they had taken the night previous, running it parallel with our right towards the river. Instead of this, a furious attack was made early the next morning on our left, Hoke having, during the night thrown a pontoon across the deep, wide creek, in spite of Cady’s light battery which was stationed there. Furious assaults were made on Comphor and Coneby redoubts, which were supported by the 16th Connecticut, and after two or three unsuccessful assaults, these works were carried, and the 16th Connecticut fell back towards Fort Williams, stubbornly contesting every foot of the ground; once or twice charging the advancing enemy, and driving them back, but overpowered by greatly superior numbers, they were driven under the protection of the fort, where rifle pits were hastily thrown up.
At the same time another column charged up along the river to Battery Worth, where I was stationed with thirty men of the 12th New York Cavalry, the ditches being filled with loyal North Carolinians. The ditches were so deep, however, that they were of no use, for the heads of the troops were at least three feet below the surface of the ground.
Cady fell back with his light battery as the enemy advanced, losing two pieces within two hundred yards of there doubt. These pieces were immediately turned upon our redoubt, which, as I have said, was unprotected on that side, this battery having been built solely for the use of the two hundred pound Parrot placed there for the destruction of the ram. These guns were trained on the slat door, and on the opposite side was the door of the magazine, which was well supplied with hand grenades, shell, and a large supply of powder. Should a shell come through the door and explode inside this magazine, it would blow us all into eternity.
The boys were using their carbines with terrible effect upon those serving the pieces; and although there were but thirty or forty of us, so rapid and accurate were the discharges, that for some time the enemy were prevented from using them upon us; but the heavy column of Confederates that had poured in on our left and gained the rear of our entire works, were closing in upon us along the river bank, which served them excellently as a protection; while they were within a few feet of the unprotected portion of our redoubt, so near were they, that after a council of the officers, a white flag was raised on a bayonet as a token of surrender, and it had scarcely appeared above the low earthwork, which was only about breast high, when half a dozen rebs stood upon it peering down curiously at us, whom they were surprised to find so few in number, having supposed from the rapidity and effectiveness of our firing, that there were at least a hundred of us.
When I found that a surrender was inevitable, I seized my pistol by the muzzle (a weapon that had been presented me before leaving home) and threw it far out into the river, rather than have it fall into the hands of the enemy. At the same time the Sergeant in charge of the big gun spiked it, by driving in a rat-tail file with a hammer and breaking it off close to the piece. We were at once asked to lay down our arms, and were marched under guard down to the left, receiving, as we went, a furious discharge of grape from Fort Williams, under the supposition that we were Confederates, Hoke’s main column following along the line of works, taking them in detail until Fort Williams alone remained to Gen. Wessels; and this was completely surrounded, and hemmed in on all sides, while the sharpshooters of the enemy were stationed in the houses, where they could effectually prevent the men from serving the guns. Bravely did Wessels defend his stronghold, repelling all assaults until nearly noon, when he met Hoke under a flag of truce, to agree upon terms of the surrender, Wessels asking that he be allowed to march out with his colors, the officers retaining their side arms. This Hoke refused to grant, though complimenting Gen. Wessels on the gallant manner in which he had defended his works. He said that any further show of resistance would only result in an unnecessary sacrifice of life, and if Wessels still persisted in holding the works, and he was obliged to carry them by assault, he (Hoke) would not be responsible for what followed. This Gen. Wessels construed as a threat of a repetition of the Fort Pillow massacre, and saying, “You may go back and open fire,” haughtily turned on his heel and returned to the fort. The men were well protected by heavy bomb-proofs, and only those who were serving the guns were exposed to the fire of the rebel sharpshooters, who occupied every available place on all sides, and were making fearful havoc among them.
Twice was the flag staff shot away and replaced, and so effectual was the fire of these sharpshooters, that it was almost certain death for any one to approach a gun; when, after his nephew and aide-de-camp, Lieut. Foot, had received a very severe wound while trying to rally the men to the guns, the gallant old General reluctantly hauled down his flag, and Plymouth was once more in the hands of the enemy.
Hoke had won a victory after four days of hard fighting, but at what a fearful price. With eight thousand and veteran troops, and the assistance of the huge iron-clad ram Albemarle, he had made prisoners of nearly two thousand Union troops, after a loss of nearly or quite two thousand men in killed and wounded. In fact the Petersburg papers of the 27th acknowledged a loss of seventeen hundred in this battle.