ing the fixed mark afforded by the stoppage, diverted their long-range guns for a while from the monitors upon us. Bang, bang, their shot went against the sides almost faster than we could count. Happily the anchor straightened the course of the ship, and in a few minutes we were again under way. We had hardly gained a hundred or so yards upon Fort Sumter when the ship became once more unmanageable, and the anchor was again let go. The Admiral now had the monitors in our wake signalled to disregard the movements of the flagship, and run past it toward the forts. The two nearest, the Catskill and Nantucket, however, from their own heavy, unsteady steering and our own swinging, got foul of us and brushed on the port and starboard side, but got again clear, and headed on in disordered line with the Nahant and Keokuk.
The Ironsides continued almost helpless at the mercy of the tide — now gaining a little, now backing, now striking bottom, now swinging to right and left. Officers and crew grew restive. The enemy's guns were continually playing upon us. We had not yet returned a single shot. There was, indeed, something grand in this scornful disdain of the rebel fire; but our gunners nevertheless chafed under it. At last, at 4:30, while swinging on the starboard side, our port broadside came to bear fully on Fort Moultrie, and Commodore Turner would not let this opportunity slip. “Open port-holes, aim, fire!” followed by a severe concussion of the air, and the first and only offensive effort of the Ironsides in the action was made. Shortly after, the strong ebb tide rendered it utterly impossible to make headway with the ship, and the order was given to drop back. Never was a command more reluctantly given or obeyed. Deep chagrin settled upon all. Still, no other course was left, and we slowly steamed back, after signalling to the monitors to withdraw from the action and follow the flagship, and anchored under the guns of Fort Wagner.
While the Ironsides struggled, a passive mark, with the tide, the other eight ironclads had one after another become engaged in what will live in history as the most desperate — despite its brief duration — naval action known to mankind. I have already made an attempt to describe the raking, roaring intensity of the concentric fire of the rebel works. I might fill page after page with descriptive phrases without reflecting anything like the reality of its fury. The facts and figures respecting its effect upon the monitors which I give below will convey a better idea of its character than vain word-painting.
