Roanoke Island must necessarily be incomplete, we will detachment on board the Perry.

now turn back to the The battle is over. The firing has ceased, and we have a chance to rest from our labors and look about us. We have been hard at work at the guns, pelting away at that rebel stronghold and their fleet, who have just disappeared from view around Northwest Point.

All around us our ship bears evidence of the noble part she has taken in this battle. The decks are strewn with the cast off shell-boxes, pieces of glass from the shattered lights of the ship, splinters, broken cables and hand spikes, and all the accumulated debris of the fight. Her forward cabin, caboose, and light work are cut through, broken and shattered by that rifled rebel gun on the angle of the fort. Great pieces are knocked off her bulwarks, her flag-staff is shot away, and here and there below decks we can see where the enemy's shot found their way into her hull, now plugged up tight to keep the sea out, which otherwise would, in a few minutes, send her to the bottom of the sound.

Her crew with their sleeves still rolled up, their clothes torn, hands, arms, and faces black with the smoke of battle, stand gazing with a triumphant look of pride and gratification at that rebel fort where now floats the Stars and Stripes, the colors of the Fourth Rhode Island Regiment, and heartily and joyously congratulate each other on the successful issue of this, the first battle of the expedition.

The bos'n's whistle now calls us aft to splice the main brace. A double ration is allowed us, after which we perform our ablutions and eat our evening meal. This done, we light our pipes, and spend the evening in the gangway talking over the incidents of the day, until eight bells strikes, when we all turn in except those on duty, the watch is set, and discipline once more asserts her sway.

During the evening, our attention was attracted to a rebel steamer on fire at Red Stone Point, about three miles away across the sound. As the fire reached the magazine, she exploded, and then all was dark again. It proved to be the rebel gunboat Curlew which had been disabled in the fight, and was now set on fire and blown up to prevent her falling into our hands.

Night, still and starry, settled its dark curtain on friend and foe alike, and the battle of Roanoke Island passed into history.

Our loss was about two hundred and fifty, all told, while the enemy lost all their guns and munitions of war, and about twenty-five hundred prisoners, besides the killed and wounded.

The wounded of both sides were cared for, the dead buried, and the dawn of another day began preparations for further action, for while under the command of our beloved old General Burnside we could not expect to lay idle in the enemy's front, as long as a rebel flag floated over the coast of North Carolina.

February, 1862.

CHAPTER V.

ELIZABETH CITY AND WINTON.

UT one night's rest, and preparations were made to immediately pursue and capture the rebel fleet that had escaped up the sound.

Sunday morning, February 9th, the decks were cleared and we weighed anchor and sailed slowly up the channel through the blockade of sunken vessels that had been placed by the enemy across the sound, to the point of land known as Red Stone Point, near which we descried a fort over which the rebel flag was flying. The guns' crews were called" to quarters," and sent a shot or two over into it, but receiving no answer, two of our small boats were lowered, manned, and pulled ashore. But no enemy was there to repel them. Everything about the place betokened the haste with which the rebels had deserted their standard and stronghold.

The rebel steamer Curlew that we had seen on fire the night previous, lay near the wharf, a perfect wreck. An old schooner, still in good repair, lay alongside the landing. This was taken possession of and anchored out in the stream as our first prize. The rebel colors were hauled down and the Stars and Stripes run up in its place, and our boats reporting aboard soon after, we moved toward the rest of the fleet that were now forming for the advance.

The same afternoon our expedition in search of the rebel fleet started up the sound. It consisted of our own and thirteen other gunboats, and was under the command of Commander S. C. Rowan. We sailed smoothly along until night, and came to anchor a few miles above the mouth of the Pascotank River.

Monday morning, February 10th, soon after sunrise, the fleet again got underway, and the decks were cleared for action of a far different type than our last. About 8 o'clock we discovered the rebel fleet ahead of us, taking position in line of battle to receive us. On their left flank lay a schooner close up in shore, called the Black Warrior, mounting two guns, while their right flank was protected half a mile in advance by a fort mounting four heavy guns, located on what was known as Cobb's Point. Between these two batteries lay the rebel fleet, composed of the steamers Ellis, Beaufort, Fanny, Sea Bird, and two others whose names I could not learn, commanded by Captain Lynch, whose flagship was the Sea Bird.

We were now about three-quarters of a mile from them, and running slowly along waiting for orders. As we neared them a puff of smoke and a shot from the schooner gave us our challenge. Another shot from the old hulk followed the first. Then one from the fort on Cobb's Point. No reply from our fleet, the men of which gazed anxiously in the direction of the Underwriter, which was acting as our flagship, to see the signal, commence firing," run up. Suddenly a gun from the flagship sent a shot on its fiery path, and at the same moment up went the signal, "close action." This was all we were waiting for, and immediately a full head of steam was put on, and we were flying through the water at full speed towards the rebel fleet.

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This was to be a new experience to us of the land ser

vice, and one calculated to try our mettle to the utmost. Captain Flusser now called our attention to a few instructions and words of advice about boarding the enemy's vessels. That no man was to cry "quarter," no matter in what circumstances he might be placed. That he would shoot the first man that did so like a dog. That the guns' crews were to remain at their posts and work the guns for all they were worth, never leaving them except at the orders to repel boarders," or "boarders away." That those not employed at serving the guns should arm themselves with rifles, station themselves about the decks, and endeavor to pick off the enemy's officers, and especially his pilots, and that all were expected to perform their whole duty, coolly, calmly, and devotedly.

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The first cry of "quarter" while engaged in close action does more to discourage and demoralize the rest of the crew than if they were beaten off many times in succession, and it is well that the captain gave us this caution, as perhaps in the heat of the fight, some of us, overpowered, might have given that cry, instead of laying down our arms and surrendering quietly.

In the few minutes that elapsed before reaching the enemy's fleet, while each man stands silently at his post of duty, ready to deal death and destruction into the enemy's ships, the memory of stories we had read in our boyish days of pirates,― the boarding of vessels, and the bloody scenes enacted on such occasions,― the thought of home and loved ones so far away,- the thought of the future life, whose invisible veil was about to be lifted for some of us, to reveal the beginning of eternity, these and many kindred thoughts rush through our minds faster than our boat is rushing through the water, when a thundering crash startles us from our reverie, and we are in the midst of the rebel fleet.