The Roanoke Island Expedition: Observations of a Massachusetts Soldier

THE ROANOKE ISLAND EXPEDITION: Observations of a Massachusetts Soldier Edited by James I. Robertson, Jr. On February 10, 1862, a North Carolina matron, Mrs. Catherine Edmondston, confided in her diary: "Tonight's mail brought the news of the fall of Roanoke Island. I fairly burst into tears as I read it."1 Mrs. Edmondston was not alone. The entire Confederacy came to mourn the loss of this inconspicuous little island close to the coast of North Carolina. Its fall on February 8, 1862, marked the first major mihtary setback suffered by the South. Included with its surrender were 2,675 men, 32 cannon, and 3,000 stand of small arms—men and weapons the Confederacy could ill afford to lose. Even worse, its fall opened the entire North Carolina coast and inland areas to assault; it afforded Federal forces a second front for operations against Virginia; it provided a direct backdoor entrance for a move on the vital port of Norfolk; and it gave the Union's Atlantic blockading fleet a strategic base for operations against the Confederacy's European lifelines. Lastly, this Federal success with an unparalleled and unique amphibious force aroused "the immediate apprehension of every rebel posted within gunshot of salt water."2 It was in September, 1861, that Federal authorities first discussed plans for a thrust against Roanoke Island. The man most responsible for the idea was a thirty-seven-year-old brigadier, Ambrose E. Burnside . This stout and affable Rhode Islander is largely remembered for the disaster at Fredericksburg. Yet, an expedition to Roanoke Island was well within Burnside's limited ability; and he performed competently in this, his first independent command. Late in October, with the permission of both Lincoln and McClellan , Burnside began amassing troops at Annapolis. His army ulti1 Margaret M. Jones (ed.), The Journal of Catherine Devereux Edmonston, 1860-1866 (Mebane, N.C., n.d.), p. 38. 2 Shelby Foote, The Civil War (New York, 1958-), I, 230. 321 322CIVIL WAR HISTORY mately consisted of fifteen thousand men, organized in three brigades under John G. Foster, Jesse L. Reno and John G. Parke—described by Bumside as "three of my most trusted friends."3 However, what attracted the most attention at the Annapolis staging area was the fleet of ships then being readied for the expedition. This armada, under the command of Commodore Louis N. Goldsborough , was an almost indescribable collection of eighty ships, mounting a total of 108 guns.4 Twenty of the vessels were light-draft gunboats; the other sixty, in the opinion of one Federal soldier, formed "a motley array of sea-going craft" that included "steam and sailing crafts, canal boats, ferry boats, coasting schooners and some passenger steamers. Few of them were in a seaworthy condition. . . ."5 Yet all of the ships seemingly had one important thing in common: they all drew less than eight feet of water, which was the reported high-tide depth across the bar at Hatteras Inlet, the entrance to the sound where Roanoke Island lay. On the night of January 11, 1862, the expedition set sail from Fortress Monroe, Virginia, where Bumside had completed final preparations . The target of this amphibious force was so well-kept a secret that the troops did not know their destination until the armada cleared Hampton Roads and entered the Atlantic. Shortly thereafter, disaster struck. It was only 150 miles from Hampton Roads to Hatteras Inlet, but that stretch of ocean was so ever-changing and unpredictable that sea captains had long damned it as "The Graveyard of the Atlantic." It proved its reputation to Bumside's force. A howling gale began on January 12; before it subsided, three days later, five ships had sunk and eight others were disabled. Joy at finally reaching Hatteras Inlet was short-lived. The sandbar in the narrow, treacherous channel turned out to be only six (not eight) feet deep. For several days the ships in the fleet huddled together off the bar, completely at the mercy of the raging sea. Vessels were thrown against one another; several ships grounded and were ripped apart by pounding waves. Rations ran out, water became scarce, and morale sagged. Not until late January...