Bombardment of Port Royal — Another Barbarity of the War.
Port Royal, Caroline county, Va, December 16, 1862.
Our hitherto quiet and pleasant village can now contribute an item to the history of the barbarities of the present war. Although four steam gunboats had been lying opposite us for several days, and the banks on the opposite shore were bristling with cannon, yet we felt no alarm.
Neither the military nor the citizens had done anything to draw down the thunders of Yankee vengeance upon us. On Thursday evening, the 4th inst., while quietly partaking of our dinner, we heard the beaming of a cannon placed by Gen. Hill on an eminence about three miles below Port Royal.
We rushed out on the river's bank to witness the engagement.
Two of the gunboats soon returned the fire, and then fired a broadside of grapeshot, and 11 inch shells directly into the town — at the same time the batteries across the river opened their fire upon us. The scene exhibited in our streets was now wild and fearful.
Women and children could be seen flying in the utmost terror to seek refuge behind the hills that lie back of the town.
Huge missiles were speeding their way, shrieking through the streets; crash followed crash, and explosion, until it seemed as if we all would be buried beneath the ruins of our houses.--The gunboats continued steaming up and down the river, firing continuously, now at the town and now at the battery below us, while the batteries across the river kept up a constant fire upon our devoted place. At last the shades of night closed around us, and the gunboats, after giving us a parting broadside, steamed down the river to a place of safety. No outrage committed during the war has been more barbarous and more cowardly than the bombardment of Port Royal. The enemy well knew that the place was inhabited chiefly by women and children. They could see them walking in the streets at the very moment of the attack. No one imagined that there was the least danger.--In a moment, as suddenly as the lightning's flash, the messengers of death were flying in every direction, and our destruction seemed inevitable. But the hand of Providence was stretched over us — not one of our citizens was killed or injured. Some of them fled to the hills and the remainder took refuge in the basements of their houses. Those that remained behind, all, save two whites, fled from the town during the night. In the morning it seemed as if a deep sleep had fallen upon our village — not a vestige of life could be seen, not a sound could be heard. The silence was oppressive to me. Even now the village is without inhabitants, save myself and wife and one or two citizens who have returned to guard their property.
The gunboats are lying about two miles below us, in a bend of the river. On Wednesday morning we were awakened about daybreak by a tremendous cannonading from them, but none of the shells struck the town. They were directed to the hills back of the village and below is. Four of the houses in the town are now in ruins, and some twelve or fifteen besides are more or less injured. Whether we shall receive another visitation or not depends largely on the battle that is now taking place above us.
Camp near Fredericksburg, December 12, 1862.
Thursday evening last orders were issued from headquarters indicating that something was on hand, and at 12 o'clock at night, being ‘"officer of the day."’ I was ordered to have reveille sounded at an hour today, and everything in the battery ready for action.
Half hour before dawn the two long-expected ‘"signal guns"’ on the right gave the solemn, yet welcome, notice that the great fight was about to take place.
Battery after battery (Col Alexander's and the Washington Artillery battalion) drew out their lengthy lines in the gray, murky dawn, and proceeded to their destined positions.
A dense fog rested upon the town and the valley and adjacent hills of the Rappahannock.
About sunrise the enemy's batteries at the Lacy House opened fire upon the town, and a furious cannonade was continued by them, and other batteries deployed on the flat above the town, till about 11 o'clock, firing the town in several places.
The dense columns of black smoke ascending slowly and almost vertically in the stagnant atmosphere, added to the sadness and impressiveness of the scene.
Our batteries were ordered not to return the enemy's artillery fire, but to reserve our compliments for the infantry.
At one time I counted 130 guns in five minutes, and yet they did more rapid firing than this frequently.
During the night previous one or more pontoon bridges had been commenced in the upper part of the town, and, when nearly completed, two howitzers (which had been sent down during the night for that purpose) opened, as I am informed, upon the bridge builders, and slayed them. From that time a very heavy picket firing began, and continued all the morning, our brave men holding the town in spite of the terrible cannonading also from batteries perfectly commanding the place.
I have not heard our loss, but it was not large, as we had but two or three regiments in the place.
After 11 there was a calm, with an occasional shot, but about half an hour before sunset we were told that the Yankees had succeeded, under their heavy fire, in building their bridges, and were then crossing; and we were ordered to fire at that point, said to be in the upper part of the town, considerably to the left of the Baptist Church steeple.--We speedily waked up the heavy battery of 18 guns at the Scott (Miss Mary Scott) House, which had been frowning down upon us for several days, and also two or three other batteries, higher up the river Layne's fine battery, on our left, soon opened from its marked position, and drew off those last-mentioned batteries from us. This duel only lasted come thirty minutes, and resulted in the wounding, so far as I know, of only two men--one of them an infantryman, some distance to the rear. The picket firing in the town was continued till about 7½ P. M. The murky heavens were lit up for several hours after nightfall by the horrid glare of the work of these vile incendiaries. Could Huns or Goths do worse? As we lay on the field at night 'twas enough to rouse the indignation of the most cold-hearted to hear the cries of helpless infants as they were hurried, long after midnight, from their burning houses, to seek shelter, alas! we know not where. May the great God, who hears the ‘"young ravens when they cry," ’ regard the wail of these helpless, houseless innocents, and ‘"consider it. "’--A citizen of the town informed me that a great many families remained in cellars yesterday, all day, without food. I suppose almost every one left last night — at all house of the night they were passing our fortifications.
To day we expect hot work; but up to this writing (12 M.) we have had only occasional interchanges between the batteries from where I write, (Stambury House,) having nothing else to do. I hear the Yankee bands distinctly in the town. If anything noteworthy occurs before to- morrow's mail, I will inform you. Yours, A. B. C.
Saturday, 9 A. M.
--Nothing has occurred up to this hour worthy of note. The enemy threw out a mounted picket between the canal and the river and our front, which brought on a short artillery duel. I hear of no casualties yesterday. A dense fog enshrouds everything, and will continue to do so till meridian. I think. A. B. C.
