The Republican journal., 1913-01-30
The Powder-Monkey's Peril.
BY DR.. William Henry Winslow, Roxbury
Dist. Mass,

Dist, Mass.
1t was late afternoon in 1864, off
Charleston, South Carolina, where men
acing forts bordered the shores, and
long line of Federal men-ofwar extend
ed north and south beyond gunshot OF
the enemy Boats and small steamers
moved among Admiral Dahlgren's fleet
of blockaders and cruisers, and several
iron clad monitors and the new Ironsides
lay close to Folly Island, where the sum-
mer swells merely tapped the low decks
as they swung at anchor.
Two single turreted monitors were or
picket duty in the main ship channel be-
tween Sumter and Moultrie, and these
forts exchanged occasional shots with
them and with Battery Gregg on Cum
minis Point, The Swamp Angel a
rifled Parrot gun, mounted in swamp
beyond Fort Wagner, fired screaming
shell at St. Michael's Church steeple in
the heart of Charleston. A Whitworth
gun in Fort Moultrie retaliated by
throwing shell, which burst among the
Union soldiers drilling on the southern
end of Morris Island.
The flags of Dixie snapped defiance in
the breeze above Sumter and Moultrie,
and the Union colors waved proudly over
the captured mounds of Gregg and Wag-
ner and from the masts of the iron clads
and the gaffs of the wooden war ships.
The buildings of the hated city showed
across the distant harbor like peaceful
picture in motAer-of- pearl. But along
the sea islands, puffs of flame and smoke
from grim embrasures, soldiers at the
guns or in bomb-proofs, and sailors in
revolving turrets, told red-visaged war
was there in all it's martial glory and
hideous reaiity.
1t was scene of artistic beauty, and
a slender lad of sixteen years, who had
come on deck through the fire-r room
batchway of the iron clad Nahant, walk
ed slowly around the turret and gazed
intently over the sea at the panorama of
war His longings were at last satisfied.
He had left his happy home to serve his
country, when the drums had first called
patriots to the colors. He was on the
firing line, rated an ordinary seaman and
recorded in the Watch, Quarter and Sta
ton Bill, as Eben Baker, Number SO,
Powder Monkey of the fifteen-inch gun.
A inf he old
usually lively, trustworthy boy in his
teens, who carried cartridges in cover
ed leathern bucket, which hung over his
shoulder by strap, from the powder
magazine to his gun when in action. 1t
was difficult to go along passages, to
climb ladders or steps, and to pass
through hatchways, carrying forty or
fifty pounds of powder, with the vessel
rolling and pitching, cannon shaking the
null and, perhaps, shells exploding and
splinters flying around the decks. There
fore powder-monkey was selected with
care and honored for faithful perform
ance of duty, although his odd name and
the jibes of his shipmates cast ridicule
upon him and his services.
Service on the early monitors was
detrimental to health. Night alarms,
broken sleep, cramped quarters, bad
ventilation, severe discipline and con-
stan. vigilance, invalided often the
strongest men. Little Eben was tired
and sleepy half the time notwithstanding
the glory of his position. He wandered
this evening about the upper deck,
lodged boarding seas by getting upon
the base'of the turret ard holding fast
to the lifeline, jumped behind the turret
when a Moultrie shell passed hurting
near the vessel, and finally went into the
tn ret to find quiet place to sleep. As
he saw bis great XIV inch gun, he
thought it would be dark and quiet inside
of it, and he would there be unmolested /
by is shipmates. He went to the muzzle /
ana craWled on elbows and knees well |
within the bore. He found ar. absence
of the usual shot or she'll, although the
cartridge was in its place at the breech.
He drew this towards the muzzle, as he |
had often done in unloading the gun,
piilo wed his head upon it and soon fell
asleep.
The ebbing tide, bearing torpedoes
amid debris of the shores, swirled and
rushed against the chain cables and the
protecting nets of the monitors and pass
ed out to sea. Mists were gathering;
darkness was creeping over fleet and
forts, and the narrow channel would
soon be invisible and dangerous until
daylight.
The deck officer of the Nahant was
walking around the pilot-house upon the
turret's deck, searching the harbor with
marine glasses. when he noticed a
shadow across the Pickering lights along |
the city's front. His trained eyes were
fixed upon it, and he saw the blur in
ere ase gradually to larger and blacker
form.
The quartermaster, who had caught
the object in the long spy-glass, came to