Morris Island is separated from James Island by wide and impenetrable marshes. On Cumming’s Point was Battery Gregg, named in honor of Brig. General Maxey Gregg of South Carolina, killed at Fredericksburg, Va.

Nearly a mile South of Gregg, on the island, was located Battery Wagner. This famous work was erected to prevent the Federal occupation of the island and the erection of batteries for the destruction of Fort Sumter, which disputed the passage of the enemy’s fleet to the city.

Battery Wagner was one and a half miles from Sumter and five miles from Charleston. Between Sumter and the shores of Morris and James Island is only shallow water, unfit for navigation.

The main channel, which is very deep between Sumter and Sullivan’s Island, takes an abrupt turn to the South about one thousand yards East of Sumter and flows in a Southerly direction along the shores of Morris Island so that a fleet before entering the harbor would be compelled to run the gauntlet of Battery Wagner and Gregg before reaching Sumter and the city.

The importance therefore of these auxiliary defences against naval attack will be readily appreciated, and the necessity for their reduction by the Federals is equally manifest.

Situated to the South of Morris Island is Folly Island, separated from it by Light House Inlet, about five hundred yards wide.

After the memorable repulse of the Iron Clad Fleet under Real Admiral DuPont by Fort Sumter on the 7th of April, 1863, the enemy changed his plan of attack and the Union Commander, Genl. Q. A. Gilmore, who had relieved Maj. Genl. Hunter, concentrated upon Folly Island, 10,000 Infantry, 350 Artillery, and 600 Engineer Troops. In the meantime, Rear Admiral DuPont had been relieved and Rear Admiral Dahlgren placed in command of the naval squadron.

Concealed from the view of the Confederates by dense brushwood, the Federal Commander with remarkable skill and celerity had erected formidable batteries within easy range of the weak and imperfect works of the Confederates on the Southern end of the island. The presence of these works, armed with guns of heavy calibre, was unknown to the Confederates and was a complete surprise to them.

On the morning of the 10th of July these batteries were unmasked and a furious cannonade, supplemented by the guns of the fleet in Light-house Inlet, was opened upon the Confederate batteries, and under cover of this bombardment the Federal troops succeeded in effecting a landing and lodgment on Morris Island.

They were gallantly met by the Confederate troops under Col. Robert Graham of the First South Carolina Regiment; but, after a sharp and severe engagement, they were forced to yield to the superior numbers of the enemy, and being rapidly driven back sought shelter and refuge in Battery Wagner.

Following up rapidly this success, and anticipating an easy capture of the latter, which now alone seriously disputed their full occupation of the island, on July the 11th they made their first assault upon it.

During the night, however, Wagner had been re-inforced by 550 Georgia troops under Col. Charles H. Olmstead (the distinguished and heroic defender of Fort Pulaski) and Nelson ‘s South Carolina Battalion.

This assault lasted less than half an hour and resulted in a complete repulse of the assailants who retired to the Sand hills of the island out of the range of the Confederate battery.

General Gilmore then commenced the erection of heavy batteries on the island varying in distance from about 1300 to 1900 yards in front of Wagner, and thus were commenced the formidable preparations for the great attack upon it by land and sea on the 18th of July, 1863, which is the subject of this address.

Battery Wagner

was named after Lieut. Col. Thomas M. Wagner of the 1st Regiment of South Carolina Regular Artillery, who was killed by the bursting of a gun at Fort Moultrie in July, 1863.

It was a large bastioned earth work enclosed on all sides and was situated at a very narrow neck of the island extending across its full width at that point from the sea on one side to Vincent Creek on the other, so that its flanks were protected by these natural barriers from assault.

Its sea line, which faced the ship channel, was 300 feet long and its land faces extended about 250 yards across the island.

Its magazine was protected by a roofing of heavy timbers which were compactly covered over with ten feet of sodded earth. It was also provided with a bomb-proof, similarly constructed for the protection of the troops, thirty feet wide by one hundred feet long.

There was also a gallery of a similar character about twelve feet wide by thirty feet long through which the bomb proof was entered from the parade of the Fort.

The work was constructed with heavy traverses, and its gorge on the North face provided with a parapet for Infantry fire. The embrasures were revetted with palmetto logs and turf, and around the work was a wide, deep, but dry ditch.

In the parade of the Fort on its West side was a row of wooden tenements, roughly built for officers’ quarters and medical stores.

Brigadier General Taliaferro, who had been stationed with his command on James Island, was ordered by General Beauregard to take command of Battery Wagner and, on the morning of the 14th July, he relieved Col. Robert Graham of that charge. This gallant officer, who was a native of Virginia and who is still living and practicing law in that State, had served with the immortal Stonewall Jackson in many of his brilliant campaigns in the valley.

While at home in Georgia convalescing from a wound received while serving with my Regiment in Virginia, I was ordered to report to Gen. Beauregard at Charleston and was assigned to duty with Gen. Taliaferro, who placed me temporarily on his personal staff as Assistant Inspector General.

I trust that you will pardon this reference to myself. I make it, because I claim for this narrative some degree of accuracy acquired largely from personal observation in the drama afterwards enacted.

Between the 12th and 18th of July the enemy was steadily and rapidly constructing and equipping his batteries designed to co-operate with the fleet in the bombardment which followed.

THE MONITORS.

While this work was in progress, the monitors of the fleet would daily leave their anchorage and engage in a desultory shelling of the fort. The huge projectiles, fired from their 15 inch guns, weighing 440 pounds and visible at every point of their trajectories, made it very uncomfortable for the garrison.

They practiced firing ricochet shots which would skip and bound upon the water, each impingement making sounds similar to the discharge of the gun itself. Indeed, until this curious phenomenon was noted, the multiplication of detonations was regarded as separate discharges of different guns.

Some of these enormous shells would roll into the fort, bury themselves in the earth, and, with deafening explosions, would make huge craters in the sand, lifting it in great columns, which falling in showers like the scoriae and ashes from a volcanic eruption, would fill the eyes, ears, and clothing, mingling the dirt of the fort with the original dust from which we sprung.

Some would burst in the air; others passing over the fort with a rush and roar which has aptly been likened to the noise of an express train, would explode in the marsh beyond.

Of course our guns replied, but they were so inferior in calibre compared to those of the monitors, that they did little harm at such long range to the iron armor of their turrets eleven inches in thickness.

THE ARMAMENT OF WAGNER

consisted of one 10 inch Columbiad, one 32 pound rifle, one 42 pounder Carronade, two 32 pounder Carronade, two naval shell guns, one 8 inch sea coast howitzer, four smooth bore 32 pounders, and one 10 inch sea coast mortar; in all thirteen guns, besides one light battery. Of these only the 10 inch Columbiad, which carried a projectile weighing 128 pounds, was of much effect against the monitors.

THE STAFF

of Gen. Taliaferro consisted of W. T. Taliaferro, Assistant Adjutant General, Lieutenants Henry C. Cunningham and Mazyek, ordnance officers, Captain Burke, Quartermaster, Lieutenants Meade and Stoney, aides, Dr. J. C. Habersham, Surgeon in Chief, and Captain H. D. D. Twiggs, Inspector General.

THE GARRISON

was composed of the 51st North Carolina, Col. H. McKethan; the 31st North Carolina, Lieut. Col. Charles W. Knight; the Charleston Battalion, Lieut. Col. P. C. Gaillard; the Artillery Companies of Captains J. T. Buckner and W. J. Dixon, of the 63d Georgia Regiment, and two field howitzer details of Lieut. T. D. Waties of the 1st South Carolina Regular Artillery.

All the Artillery was under the immediate command of Lieut. Col. John C. Simkins of the 1st South Carolina Regular Infantry.

Let it be borne in mind that the entire garrison, according to official reports, numbered on the 18th of July thirteen hundred men only. These troops had relieved, a few days before, Olmstead’s Georgia Regiment, Capers’, Hanvey’s and Basinger’s Georgia Battalions, Nelson’s South Carolina Battalion, and the Artillery Companies of Mathews and Chichester under Lieut. Col. Yates of South Carolina. They had participated gallantly in repelling the assault of the 11th of July and needed relief from the heavy work and details to which they had constantly been subjected.

THE FORCE OF THE ENEMY

opposed to this artillery and infantry force of Wagner consisted of four heavy batteries on the island mounting 42 siege guns of heavy calibre, and the naval squadron of iron clads and gun-boats carrying an armament of 23 of the most formidable guns ever before used in the reduction of a fortification, making an aggregate of 64 guns.

In addition there were 6,000 veteran infantry within the batteries on the island, ready for the assault. To say that the outlook to the garrison of Wagner was appalling, but feebly expresses the situation.

THE BOMBARDMENT BEGINS.

On the morning of the 18th I was invited to breakfast with Dr. Harford Cumming of Augusta, Ga., an Assistant Surgeon in the Fort. Our repast consisted of some hard crackers and a tin bucket of fresh butter sent the Doctor from home; a most tempting meal in those times of gastronomic privation.

We were sitting in the little Medical Dispensary over which the Doctor presided, by the side of an open window which looked out upon the parade, with a small table between us upon which our breakfast was laid.

Just as we had begun our meal, a 200 pounder Parrott shell was heard screaming through the air above us and descending it buried itself in the earth just outside the window. It exploded with terrific report, shattering into fragments the glass and filling our bucket, about half full of butter, with sand to the very top. The frail tenement reeled with the shock.

This shell was followed by another and another in rapid succession, which exploded in the parade of the Fort and were fired from the land batteries of the enemy.

This was the beginning of the bombardment long anticipated and our first intimation of it. We no longer felt the pangs of hunger and hurriedly left the building for a safer place.

Upon reaching the open air the shot and shell began to fall by scores and we saw the infantry streaming to the bomb-proof.

For a considerable time the firing of the enemy was conducted by the land batteries alone.

Finally the enemy’s entire squadron, iron clads and gunboats, left their moorings and bore down steadily and majestically upon the Fort. The heavy artillerists sprang to their guns and, with anxious but resolute faces, awaited coolly the terrible onset.

It was now apparent that the entire force of the enemy, land and naval, was about to be hurled against Wagner alone, but the dauntless little Garrison, lifting their hearts to the God of battles in this hour of fearful peril, with their flag floating defiantly above them, resolved to die if need be for their altars, their firesides and their homes.

The day broke bright and beautiful. A gentle breeze toyed with the folds of the garrison flag as it streamed forth with undulating grace, or lazily curved about the tall staff. The God of day rising in the splendor of his midsummer glory, flung his red flame upon the swelling sea, and again performed the miracle or turning the water into wine.

Rising still higher he bathed the earth and sea in his own radiant and voluptuous light, and burnished with purple and gold the tall spires of the beleaguered and devoted old city.

What a strange contrast between the profound calm of nature and the gathering tempest of war, whose consuming lightnings and thunders were so soon to burst forth with a fury unsurpassed!

On came the fleet, straight for the Fort; Admiral Dahlgren’s flag ship, the Monitor Montauk, Commander Fairfax, in the lead.

It was followed by the New Ironsides, Captain Rowan; the Monitors, Catskill, Commander Rogers; Patapsco, Lieut. Commander Badger; Nantucket, Commander Beaumont, and Weehawken, Commander Calhoun.

There were besides five gunboats, the Paul Jones, Commander Rhind; Ottawa, Commander Whiting; the Seneca, Commander Gibson; the Chippewa, Commander Harris, and the Wissahickon, Commander Davis.

Swiftly and noiselessly the Monitors approached, the white spray breaking from their sharp prows, their long dark hull lines scarcely showing above the water, and their coal black drum-like turrets glistening in the morning’s sun.

Approaching still nearer they formed the arc of a circle around Wagner, the nearest being about three hundred yards distant from it.

With deliberate precision they halted and waited the word of command to sweep the embrasures of the Fort where our intrepid cannoniers stood coolly by their guns.

As the flagship Montauk wheeled into action at close quarters, a long puff of white smoke rolled from the mouth of the 10 inch Columbiad on the sea face of the Fort, and the iron plated turret of the Monitor reeled and quivered beneath the crashing blow.

Then the pent up thunders of the brewing storm of death burst forth in all their fury and poured upon the undaunted Wagner a remorseless stream of nine, eleven, and fifteen inch shells monitor after monitor, ship after ship, battery after battery, and then altogether hurled a tempest of iron hail upon the Fort.

About seventy guns were now concentrating a terrific fire upon it, while the guns of Wagner, aided at long range by the batteries of Sumter and Gregg, and those on Sullivan’s and James Islands replied.

Words fail to convey an adequate idea of the fury of this bombardment. “It transcended all exhibitions of like character encountered during the war.”

It seemed impossible that anything could withstand it.

More than one hundred guns of the heaviest calibre were roaring, flashing and thundering together. Before the Federal batteries had gotten the exact range of the work, the smoke of the bursting shells, brightened by the sun, was converted into smoke wreathes and spirals which curved and eddyed in every direction; then as the fire was delivered with greater precision, the scene was appalling and awe inspiring beyond expression and the spectacle to the lookers on was one of surpassing sublimity and grandeur.

In the language of Gen. Gilmore, “the whole island smoked like a furnace and shook as from an earthquake.”

For eleven long hours the air was filled with every description of shot and shell that the magazines of war could supply. The light of day was almost obscured by the now darkening and sulphurous smoke which hung over the island like a funeral pall.

Still later in the afternoon as the darkness gathered and deepened did the lightnings of war increase in the vividness of their lurid and intolerable crimson which flashed through the rolling clouds of smoke and illumined the Fort from bastion to bastion with a scorching glare; clouds of sand were constantly blown into the air from bursting shells; the waters of the sea were lashed into white foam and thrown upwards in glistening columns by exploding bombs while side sheets of spray inundated the parapet, and Wagner” dripping with salt water, shook like a ship in the grasp of the storm.

By this time all the heavy guns were dismounted, disabled, or silenced, and only a few gun detachments were at their posts.

Passive endurance now only remained for the garrison while the storm lasted. The troops generally sheltered themselves, as best they could, in the bomb proofs and behind the traverses. But for such protection as was thus afforded, the loss of life would have been appalling and the garrison practically annihilated.

There was one command only which preferred the open air to the almost insufferable heat of the bomb proof, and sheltered itself only under the parapet and traverses on the land face of the Fort during that frightful day. Not one member of that heroic band, officer or man, sought other shelter. In all the flight of time and the records of valor, no example ever transcended their splendid heroism. All honor to the glorious name and deathless fame of “Gaillard’s Charleston Battalion.”

A little after two o’clock, two deeds of heroism were enacted which will never be forgotten by the lookers on. The halliards were cut by a shot or shell, and the large garrison flag released from the lofty staff fell into the parade.

Instantly, and without hesitation, there were a score of men racing for the prostrate colors. Out into the open area, they rushed regardless of the storm of death falling around them. Maj. Ramsay, Sergeant Shelton, and Private Flynn of the Charleston Battalion, and Lieutenant Reddick of the 63rd Georgia Regiment, bore it back in triumph to the staff and deliberately adjusted it. Up it went again, and amid the cheers of the garrison the Confederate banner again floated defiantly in the smoke of battle.

Some little delay occurred in adjusting the flag, and some few moments elapsed during which Wagner showed no colors to the enemy. Supposing that the Fort had struck its flag in token of surrender, exultant cheers burst forth from the crew of the Ironsides.

At that moment Captain Robert Barnwell of the Engineers seized a Regimental battle flag and recklessly leaping upon the exposed ramparts, he drove its staff into the sand and held it there until the garrison flag had been hoisted in its place.

There was one Jasper at Moultrie.

There were a score of them at Wagner.

In the meantime the City of Charleston was aflame with excitement; the battery, house-tops and steeples were crowded with anxious spectators. Hundreds of fair women were there with hands clasped in silent prayer for the success of their gallant defenders; strong men looked on with throbbing hearts and broke forth into exclamations which expressed their hopes and fears.

How can the Fort hold out much longer? It has ceased firing altogether! Its battery has been silenced!

Yes but see the colors streaming still amid the battle smoke!

Suddenly the flag is seen to droop, then rapidly descend.

Oh God! was the agonized cry, Wagner has at last struck her colors and surrendered. Oh! the unspeakable suspense of that moment.

Then tumultuous cheers arose from hundreds of throats amid the waving of snowy handkerchiefs.

No ! no ! they shouted, look ! Look! It has gone up again, and its crimson cross flashes once more amid shot and shell and battle smoke.

What a wonderful power there is in the flag of one’s country. How mysterious the influence by which it sways and moves the hearts of men.

A distinguished general in the Confederate army, who had been an officer in the old army, was so strongly imbued with the power of this influence over the will of men that he expressed the belief that if the Confederate Government had adhered to the stars and stripes thousands in the North, who, early in the war were Southern sympathizers, would have rallied around it, and thousands, who were actually arrayed against us, would have refused to fire upon it.

The colors of an army have carried more strongholds than the bayonet, and battered down more fortresses than artillery.

Even in Holy Writ we find the expression “As terrible as an army with banners.”

‘Twas the flag that floated again over Wagner which restored confidence in Charleston, and the exultant cry which broke from the lips of these lookers on, was the echo of that hoarser shout in the battle scarred Fort in the  midst of the roar of cannon.

The banner of the stars and stripes is again the flag of our united country, and long may it wave over the land and the sea, for it is the symbol and the emblem of a union never again to be sundered.

The Southern heart is true and loyal to that flag but base is the soul and craven is the heart of him who marched and fought beneath the starry cross of Dixie which will cease to love and honor it.

It waved its conquering folds in the smoke of battle at Manassas and Shiloh. It stirred the souls of men with thrilling power in the wild assault upon Cemetery Hill. It floated triumphant amid the roar of cannon at Spottsylvania’s bloody salient, and was borne resistless at the head of  conquering hosts on an hundred bloody fields.

Though furled forever and no longer existing as the emblem of a brave and heroic people, still we salute thee with love and reverence oh ! phantom banner of that great army underground, which died beneath thy crimson cross.

“For though conquered, we adore it,
Love the cold dead hands that bore it.”

But I return to the raging battle at Wagner.

All day did the furious bombardment continue without intermission. The long midsummer day seemed endless and the fierce July sun seemed commanded by another Joshua to stand still—would it never set?

The wooden tenements in the fort were literally torn into splinters, and the ground bore little trace of where they stood.

The fort itself was pounded into an almost shapeless mass; the parapet, traverses, scarp, and counter scarp, were well nigh obliterated, and the ditch was filled with sand.

The covering of the bomb–proof had, to a large extend, been torn away, and now the magazine containing a large quantity of powder was in imminent danger of being breached by the heavy projectiles hurled incessantly against it, and the immense shells from the Cohorn mortars which, thrown to an incredible altitude, would descend with terrific force now almost upon the yielding and dislocated timbers.

The magazine once pierced, Wagner would have been blown to atoms, with not a man surviving to tell the story of its demolition. The reports constantly made to the commanding officer by the ordinance sergeant in charge justified the gravest fears of such a catastrophe.

Once, after a report of its condition had been made, this stern old veteran, addressing a member of his staff sitting beside him, quietly asked him if he was a married man.

Upon being answered in the affirmative, he shrugged his shoulders and said with a grim smile, “I’m sorry, sir, for we shall soon be blown into the marsh.”

Indeed this result was but the question of a little time when suddenly, to the infinite relief of the harassed and weary garrison, the blazing circle of the enemy’s fleet and batteries ceased to glow with flame.

In the language of Gen. Taliaferro, “the ominous pause was understood—the supreme moment of that awful day had come.”

Wagner, which could not be conquered by shot and shell, must now be carried by assault. . . .