Beyond All Price

by Carolyn Poling Schriber

  And therein lay the first problem. The South Carolina Expeditionary Force had needed over eighty ships to carry all its men and their equipment. But once on site, most of the fleet was unnecessary. So many ships anchored together limited maneuverability and blocked clear sight lines. Of course, everyone wanted to participate in the attack, but Commodore DuPont soon realized he would have to limit his attack squadron to a few ships.

  Wabash, passed the bar at the entrance with inches to spare. Then disaster struck again as both the Wabash and the Susquehanna failed to clear a shoal and found themselves stuck. Much maneuvering and tugging later, they floated free, but they had used up too much time to begin the attack on the scheduled day of November 5th.

  The soldiers posed a second problem. The original plan had been to land the army troops somewhere where they could attack the two forts from the side while the gunboats fired at the front. That, too, proved impossible. A small group of scouts reported in confusion that the marshes on either side of the forts provided no solid ground on which to land the troops. Seas of grass rooted in pluff mud were as impassible as a bed of quicksand. The only solid ground lay between the fronts of the forts and the channels from which the gunboats would have to aim at the forts, putting a landing army in the direct line of fire. The 12,000 soldiers aboard the transports would have to become an idle audience for the naval attack on the harbor.

  Because they liked and trusted her, many of the soldiers turned to Nellie to voice their frustration, and she tried to be sympathetic.

  “We didn’t come all this way, sick as dogs, to stand around and watch somebody else fight!”

  “Why’d we even bother learning to shoot our guns if nobody’s gonna let us use ‘em?”

  “I got a field back home I cudda been plowin’ if this is all I’m gonna do!”

  “When do we get our shot?”

  “Durn sailors are cocky enough without lettin’ them git all the glory!”

  “Your turn will come, boys,” she assured them. “The Navy’s going to soften them up a bit first.”

  “Don’t need ‘em softened up,” someone said. “Just need to git ‘em in my sights.”

  “Well, personally, I’ll be happy to see you all well and uninjured at the end of the day,” Nellie said.

  DuPont led his fleet of fifteen ships out into the harbor on the morning of November 7th. Staying on the starboard side of the channel, each ship fired upon Fort Beauregard as it passed Bay Point. Then the ships executed a wide turn to port that brought them to an eastern heading in front of Fort Walker. Again each ship fired as she passed and continued toward the mouth of the harbor and another sweeping turn to port that brought her back onto the course, ready for a second pass at each fort. The gunners in Fort Walker had little hope of hitting the moving targets of the Union ships, even if their cannons had been mounted on carriages that allowed rapid swings. The Union guns, however, could remain almost stationary; when one gunship sailed out of range of the fort, the next ship took over.

  Despite their protests, few of the Roundheads could resist clustering on the deck of the Ocean Queen to watch the action. Nellie and the staff officers had a prime viewing platform on the foredeck, where even the most experienced officers cheered with each bombardment. Before the ships had completed their first lap, however, Nellie gathered her skirts and slipped away to return to the sick bay.

  “You didn’t have to come back, Nellie,” Doctor Ludington said. “Everything is under control here.”

  “I’m sure it is, but I couldn’t stand to watch anymore.”

  “And why, exactly, was that?” A new voice spoke from the doorway. Reverend Browne stood there, watching her as a cat might stare at a vulnerable mouse. “Because you don’t have the stomach for battle?”

  “No!” Nellie was furious with herself for reacting automatically to the chaplain’s challenging attitude, but she was helpless to control her fury. “I left because it was too beautiful.”

  “Oh, come, now. I’d believe you if you said it was too loud, or too violent. But beautiful? Hardly.”

  “It is beautiful,” she said, struggling to control herself. As if to enlist his support, she half-turned to Doctor Ludington. “You should see it, Doctor. The sky is absolutely clear and the water a deep blue. Our ships move across that water with their white sails billowing, looking almost like ballet dancers skimming across the waves.”

  She ignored a snort from Reverend Browne and plunged ahead. “Each gun sends up a billow of white smoke and the tracers leave a glowing arc against the sky. It is all graceful and picturesque—so much so that one is tempted to forget about the violence that is being done by those guns. I was enjoying the scene, and I couldn’t bring myself to accept the reality of what was going on. That’s when I decided to leave. I didn’t want to enjoy the spectacle of someone being blown apart by those shells.”

  “How tender-hearted of you,” Reverend Browne threw a patronizing smile at her. “Really, Nellie, aren’t you about ready to accept the fact that a war is no place for a lady? I’m sure Captain Lee could arrange for your return passage to Hampton Roads when the extra ships go back.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Reverend. I may be ‘tender-hearted,’ as you put it, but I’m as unafraid of war as any man here. I jus refuse to romanticize it. And I think it’s wrong to enjoy it.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a victory. How else would an army encourage its soldiers?”

  “Ah, but I thought that’s what your brand of religion taught.” Nellie knew she should drop the issue, but she couldn’t resist taking another swipe or two at the pompous man standing over her. “I thought you believed enjoying something was a sin. Didn’t you tell me God thought playing cards was the devil’s work, Sir?”

  “Ah, you mock me, Missy. And you mock your God,” Reverend Browne said.

  “I do nothing of the sort, Sir.” Nellie widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes in her best imitation of surprised innocence. “I don’t understand why it is a sin to enjoy playing a game, but not a sin to enjoy seeing people killed.”

  “That’s why war is no place for a woman!” Browne shouted and stomped away. Nellie did not fail to notice he had demoted her from lady to woman.

  “Why do you taunt him, Nellie?” Doctor Ludington asked. “You know he wants to get rid of you. Must you keep giving him more excuses to do so?”

  Now that he was gone, Nellie felt the anger draining from her, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. And of course you’re right. I shouldn’t bait him. But he’s unfair in his judgments.”

  “Yes, he is—and perhaps you are, too.”

  Nellie flushed with embarrassment. Doctor Ludington had been unfailingly kind to her, and she valued his opinions. “I’m sorry, Sir. You’re right, again. I’ll make an effort to do better.”

  Chastened, Nellie spent much of her afternoon bustling about with small chores that really didn’t need doing. She straightened pillows, smoothed blankets, and brought dippers of cool water in case a patient had grown thirsty without mentioning it. She alphabetized the medicine shelf, swept the floor, and pressed cool hands on several feverish foreheads. But through it all she listened for, and tried not to hear, the sounds of gunfire bouncing off the water around the ship.

  “The battle is over,” Mary shouted as she rushed into the sick bay.

  “Shhhh.” Nellie hushed her automatically and then looked apologetic. “Really? They’ve stopped shooting at each other?”

  “Yes, about half an hour ago. The rebel fort quit returning fire, and Commander DuPont signaled his ships to do the same. Then he led one last foray past Fort Walker, and sent out a landing vessel. We watched as the men disembarked and waded ashore. We were all holding our breath, waiting to see if someone would shoot at them. But there was no response at all. Our boys walked right into the fort through some big holes they had blasted in the wall, and then, after a few minutes, we saw the Confederate flag pulled down and the U.S. flag raised. We’ve
won.”

  “There wasn’t much doubt about that, was there?” Nellie smiled ruefully. “The fort was clearly outgunned.”

  “Well, true, but the best news came when the landing party reported back to the Wabash. The fort didn’t just surrender. It’s been abandoned. The rebels are gone—those of them who lived long enough to run away, at least.”

  “Men died trying to defend that fort, then. Don’t make light of their sacrifice.”

  “They were rebels, Nellie! The same as the shooters who killed my husband.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Nellie bit her lip to keep from saying anything else that could fuel a disagreement. “What happens now, I wonder?”

  “There was a signal from DuPont saying a general landing of all troops would commence in the morning. We’ll need to start packing up.”

  A short time later, Doctor Ludington came back from a meeting with the Roundheads’ staff officers. “We’re near the front of the anchorage here, so we’ll be disembarking early tomorrow,” he reported. “Nellie, you and the rest of the ladies will wait aboard ship with the patients still in sick bay until our troops have had time to stake out the camp and pitch the staff tents. We’ll send a skiff for you when the hospital area is ready. Until then, you’ll have to get the patients ready for transport and keep them quiet. The move will be hard on some of them, so I’m counting on you to see to it they are as well prepared as possible.”

  “I’m feeling much better, Doc,” shouted one measles patient from across the room as he struggled to get out of bed. “I don’t need to stay here any more.”

  “Maybe so, Private,” Ludington replied, “but that red rash all over your face and your swollen eyes tell a different story. Back in bed with you now, Son, and close that blackout curtain again. You know light is bad for you.” He raised an eyebrow at Nellie. “That’s what you can expect to deal with tomorrow. You will see many miraculous cures, but don’t believe them. At least not until Reverend Browne confirms the miracle.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not leaving him aboard with us, are you?”

  Ludington’s grin let Nellie know he was no longer angry with her. “No. Chances are we’ll have greater need for him ashore. From what the landing party has reported, it’s a grim sight inside the fort—lots of bodies and body parts. Those beautiful shells of ours have left behind all the ugliness of war for us to deal with. It’s best Reverend Browne see that for himself. He may come to understand you were right.”

  ggg

  11

  Hilton Head Island

  Doctor Ludington’s announced schedule proved to be only partially accurate. Each officer seemed to have his own idea about who should land first, and what should be expected once the troops were on solid ground. For most of the men, nothing mattered except getting off the ship where they had been packed tightly for so long. Signal flags and colored lanterns attempted to keep everyone informed but mostly managed to confuse the questions. One set of orders sent the soldiers from the Fiftieth Pennsylvania scurrying to transfer themselves and their belongings to the Ocean Queen because the Winfield Scott was needed elsewhere. No sooner had they joined the Roundheads on the Ocean Queen than orders came for both regiments to transfer to the Winfield Scott, which would take them closer to shore.

  Similar confusion reigned about the state of occupation of Hilton Head Island itself. Members of the scouting party had reported the Confederate troops gone, but occasional shots and flares from the woods around the abandoned fort suggested not every southerner had high-tailed it for the safety of Charleston. As a result, some soldiers carefully packed their guns and ammunition, while others concentrated on gathering their creature comforts. Reverend Browne was one of those opting for comfort. His haversack contained four big hard crackers, a tin box of sardines, a jar of olives, some chicken and ham, cheese, and pickles. He filled his canteen with a mixture of water and claret. He also packed blankets, a woolen hat, a towel, an extra pair of socks, some stationery, his Bible, and a pen.

  Moving nearly 12,000 men from ship to shore with a fleet of surfboats was tedious business. Some of the Roundheads set foot on the island around midnight. Others did not make it until after the sun came up the next morning. They quickly discovered that, while three weeks at sea had given them their sea legs, the voyage had unaccustomed them to walking on dry land. They pelted out of the surfboats one hundred yards from shore and splashed through the water, cheering and shouting with delight. Then they hit the sandy beach, and their legs turned to rubber. Those who arrived in the dark stumbled over unseen obstacles; those who arrived at dawn wished they could not see that those obstacles were dead bodies.

  As Doctor Ludington had predicted, the ugliness of war lay spread out for all to see. Artillery shells had struck with enough force to blow the fort’s cannons apart. What those shells did to the human body was beyond description. Body parts and piles of unidentifiable gore littered the sand. Other bodies lay partially covered with sand, not because they had been deliberately buried but because the blast had blown them into a hole and then showered them with debris. The soldiers who earlier had cheered each shot now had to deal with the results of the attack. Already unsteady on their feet, many of the soldiers fell to their knees, vomiting the remains of their dinners as they surveyed and smelled the carnage.

  Colonel Leasure moved among the men, encouraging them to head inland, where there were fewer bodies to be seen away from the fort walls. But even he hesitated when he found Reverend Browne on his knees near a destroyed cannon. Tears ran down the minister’s cheeks as he scrabbled at the sand.

  “What are you doing, Robert? Did you lose something?”

  “His head. Where is his head? I see his face spread out there on top of that gun breach. He had a lovely crop of whiskers. But where is the rest of his head?”

  “Robert, come away now. The soldiers will handle this.”

  “No. No. I have to find the rest of him. His mother will want to see her son whole before he is buried. I have to find the rest of him. He’s here somewhere. We can’t just send his face home.”

  “This soldier won’t be going home, Robert. We’re sending out a burial detail now. They’ll gather up all these pieces and give them a decent burial here on the island. The sun will soon be overhead, and we can’t leave them out in the heat.”

  “But he must have a funeral. See, I have my Testament. And I could wrap him in my blanket.”

  Colonel Leasure gently lifted his chaplain to his feet. “Have you something stronger than water in your canteen?”

  “There’s claret, but it’s in case the wounded men need it.”

  “Take a drink, Robert. There aren’t any wounded men. They are all past helping. You need to get hold of yourself, not just for your own sake, but for the sake of our soldiers. They’ll be looking toward you for guidance. You can’t let them see you fall apart.”

  The minister threw his head back to stare at the sky. “My God, my God. What have we done?” Then he looked around anxiously. “Where’s Nellie? I must find her. I must tell her I understand now what she meant. I must apologize. Have you seen her?”

  “Nellie? Why, she’s still aboard the ship. She and the other women won’t be coming ashore until we have the place straightened up. You wouldn’t want them to see this.”

  “But she knew, Daniel. She tried to tell me how awful this would be, and I made fun of her. I told her she didn’t belong in the Army. But she . . . she knew . . . and I didn’t.” Browne’s shoulders began to heave again as the sobs broke from his throat.

  Looking around in some desperation, the colonel spotted Doctor Ludington and waved him over. “Take care of Robert, will you, Horace? He’s had something of a shock.”

  Got his comeuppance, looks like, Ludington thought, but he dutifully put an arm around the chaplain’s shoulders and led him off to the shelter of the large plantation-style house that dominated the interior of the fort. “You’ll be more comfortable in here,” he explained. “Sit a spell,
and take your time coming out. We’ll send someone for you if you are needed.”