he forts. It
was five in the afternoon of a short February day that the fleet came
in sight of the forts. Signals were made for the squadron to form in a
circle about the flagship. The early darkness of winter had fallen
upon the scene. The waters of the sound were smooth as a mill-pond.
From the white cottages on the shore gleamed lights, and brilliant
signal-lanterns hung in the rigging of the ships. Through the fleet
pulled swift gigs bearing the commanders of the different vessels.

The morning dawned dark and rainy. At first it was thought that the
fog and mist would prevent the bombardment, but all doubt was put at
an end by the signal, "Prepare for action," from the flagship. The
drums beat to quarters, and soon the guns were manned by sailors
stripped to the waist. The magazines were opened; and the surgeons
cleared away the cock-pits, and spread out their glistening
instruments ready for their work.

The fleet got under way, and stood up the channel almost to the point
where the obstructions were planted. Beyond these were the gunboats of
the enemy. The cannonade was begun without loss of time. A portion of
the fleet began a vigorous fire upon the Confederate gunboats, while
the others attacked the forts. The gunboats were soon driven away, and
then the forts received the entire fire. The water was calm, and the
aim of the gunners was admirable. The forts could hardly respond to
the fire, since the great shells, plunging by hundreds into the
trenches, drove the men from their guns into the bomb-proof casemates.
The officers of the ships could watch with their glasses the effect of
every shell, and by their directions the aim of the gunners was made
nearly perfect.

While the bombarding was going on, Gen. Burnside set about landing his
troops near the southern end of the island. The first boat was fired
upon by soldiers concealed in the woods. The "Delaware" instantly
pitched a few shells into the woods from which the firing proceeded,
and in a few minutes the enemy could be seen running out like rats
from a burning granary. The landing then went on unimpeded. The boats
were unable to get up to the bank, owing to shoal water; and the
soldiers were obliged to wade ashore in the icy water, waist-deep, and
sinking a foot more in the soft mud of the bottom.

The bombardment was continued for some hours after nightfall. A night
bombardment is a stirring scene. The passionate and spiteful glare of
the cannon-flas