In and Out of Rebel Prisons

Plymouth, in 1863-4, was a small town, situate on the Roanoke river, about six miles from where the waters of that stream enters the Albermarle Sound.

The river at Plymouth is nearly a quarter of a mile wide, and with a sufficient depth of water to float the largest draught gunboats. The shore next the town was supplied with a wharf for landing steamers that navigate the river; but the gunboats, of which there were quite a number stationed there, were usually anchored in the middle of the stream. The town was enclosed with earthworks, with the exception of about two hundred yards on the left next the river which was rather low and marshy, and covered with quite a thick growth of alders and other bushes. On the extreme right, on the bank of the river, was Battery Worth; a small earthwork, just large enough to work a two hundred pound Parrot gun, with which it was supplied, and accommodate twenty or thirty men to handle and support it. This was surrounded with a deep ditch; but on the side next the town it was protected only with a low breastwork with a wooden slat door, and a person could jump across the ditch and step over into the redoubt.

Extending south from this small earthwork ran a line of breastworks to the south-west corner of the town, when it turned at right angles, making a continuous line of works nearly two miles in length, completely surrounding the place, with the exception of the short space next the river on our extreme left, as before stated.

In the south center stood Fort Williams, a strong work; and some distance from the line of works on the right center was Fort Wessels, a small redoubt.

On the left of Fort Williams on the works facing east, were Comphor and Coneby redoubts, one each side of what was called the Columbia road. On each side of Fort Williams, which faced south, were sally ports, on what was called the Washington road and the middle road.

In our front, to the south, was an open field for a thousand or twelve hundred yards, the farther part of which was partially covered with the brush and stumps of the newly cleared field, and beyond this was woods. About a mile up the river, on what was called War Neck, as a protection to our extreme right, was Fort Gray, a work of considerable strength, garrisoned by the 96th New York.

Such is a brief description of Plymouth as it appeared in April, 1864.

Brig. Gen. W. H. Wessels was in command of the post, and Lieut. Commander Flusser was in command of the fleet of gun-boats, which consisted of the Miama, a large wooden double-ender, the Southfield, an old New York ferryboat under command of Capt. French, the Whitehead, Capt. Barrett, the Bombshell, and a small supply boat called the Dolly, with one or two other boats whose names I do not now remember.

These were all wooden boats, but were supplied with a good armament of heavy metal, and their commander, W. H. Flusser, was as gallant an officer as ever trod the quarter deck, and thoroughly determined to sink the rebel ram Albemarle, which had been built near Richmond, and was daily expected to come down the river, and attempt the destruction of our fleet, or sink every boat under his command. Being very intimately acquainted with Lieut. Commander Flusser, and knowing his plans, having been instrumental with the detachment of cavalry stationed there, in getting much valuable information in regard to the progress of the building and intentions of this ram, I can speak by card of his preparations for its destruction, when it should make its appearance.

Gen. Wessel's brigade consisted of two companies of the 12th N. Y. Cavalry, A and F, 85 men; two companies, H and G, of the 2d Massachusetts H. A., garrisoning the fort and redoubts; the 16th Connecticut, the 101st and 103d Pennsylvania, the 85th New York Infantry, and the 24th New York Independent Battery, Capt. Cady. There was also a company of North Carolina colored troops, Capt. Eastmond, and two companies of loyal North Carolinians, making in all about two thousand troops.

On Sunday morning, April 17th, 1864, the consolidated morning report showed eighteen hundred and fifty men for duty. The day was warm and bright, and the men were scattered about the town with no thought of approaching danger. The cavalry had scouted the day before, a distance of twelve or fifteen miles, and found no signs of the enemy, but about 4 p. m., the cavalry pickets on the Washington road were driven in, and the Corporal, named Geo. Wilcox, came tearing through the company quarters of the 85th New York down to cavalry headquarters, with the nose bag still on his horse, which he had not had time to exchange for his bridle, swinging his hat and shouting: "The Rebs are coming! the Rebs are coming!"

By the absence of Capt. Roach, of Company A, and the sickness of Capt. Hock, of Company F, I was in command of the detachment of cavalry, and at once ordered a bugler who happened to be standing near, to sound BOOTS AND SADDLES; sent Lieutenant Russel, who was mounted, having just rode up, to headquarters, to notify General Wessels that our pickets had been driven in and ask for orders for the cavalry. He returned just as I had formed the two companies into line with orders to make a reconnoissance on the Washington road, and, without getting into a fight, ascertain, as near as I could, the strength of the enemy in our front.

I ascertained by a careful reconnoissance that Maj. Gen. Hoke was in front with about eight thousand troops. In this reconnoissance I lost one man, "Amos Fancher," killed, and one, "Lieut. Russell," severely wounded. Hoke formed his line and threw out his skirmishers, but made no further demonstrations that night, a few shells from Fort Williams having the effect of checking any further movement.

At 11 o'clock that night, Gen. Wessels sent the steamer Massasoit, carrying the women and other non-combatants, and the wounded, to Newbern. Among the women were Mrs. George H. Hastings, Mrs. Dr. Frick, Mrs. Capt. Hock, Mrs. Bell, Mrs. and Miss Freeman and Mrs. A. Cooper (who had been with me from the 7th of February), and others. Preparations were made for a stout resistance by Gen. Wessels, who was a gallant officer. He established a strong skirmish line nearly two miles in length along our entire front and had everything in readiness to repel any attack that might be made; but the night passed without any further demonstration.

Early on the morning of the 18th there was slight skirmishing commenced along our entire front, and a bombardment was commenced upon Fort Gray, which was our extreme right and about one and one-half miles up the river.

In this bombardment the gunboat Bombshell, which had been sent to the assistance of the fort, was so crippled that she sank immediately upon reaching the wharf.

The attack on Fort Gray was repulsed, and our skirmish line in front maintained its position all day. At 5:30 p. m. I received orders to take the two companies of cavalry, dismounted, up to the breastworks near Fort Williams.

Fortunately I was mounted at the time, and rode up to the front, where, sitting on my horse, I had a splendid view of the battle that ensued.

We had just arrived at the breastworks when the skirmishing became brisk, our boys pushing the enemy's skirmishers back some distance, when suddenly, as if by magic, a line of battle over a mile in length seemed to spring up out of the ground and charged our skirmish line, driving them back towards the works. As they fell back, firing as they retired, Fort Williams opened with her entire armament, which, in a moment, was joined in by Comphor and Coneby redoubts, Fort Wessels, Cady's Independent Battery and the entire fleet of gunboats in the river.

Hoke opened on the town with forty-two pieces of artillery; Wessels replied with just about the same number of pieces, but of heavier calibre. From 6 until 8.30 p. m. was kept up a most terrific cannonade, which presented a spectacle awfully grand and magnificent. The gunboats, which were supplied with an armament of very heavy guns, sending immense shell shrieking and bursting over our heads as they were hurled into the lines of the enemy, the forts on our right and left keeping up an incessant roar, a stream of fire belching from the hot throats of Hoke's forty-two pieces in our front, the comet-like trail of fire from his shells as they hurried on their mission of death towards us, the rattle of grape and cannister as they were hurled against the wooden buildings in our rear, or the woodwork of the forts and earthworks along the line, the loud bray of an immense number of mules, with which Hoke's artillery was supplied, the groans and shrieks of the wounded, combined to give me such a picture of "grim visaged war" as I had never before beheld.