History of the Forty-Eighth Regiment M. V. M. During the Civil War

Few men in the North previous to April 12, 1861, thought that the men of the South would be so rash as to precipitate a war between the two sections, and when on that day the news flashed over the wires that the Southern fire-eaters had fired upon Fort Sumter, and that the national ensign had been pulled down, a great wave of horror and indignation swept over the land. A call for 75,000 men for three months’ service was issued by President Lincoln on the fifteenth day of April, 1861.

Many persons who considered themselves wise, pronounced the number too great, and to most people it did seem to be a vast army—three times greater than the whole regular army previous to that time. But little actual fighting was done by the regiments furnished under this call, but subsequently other calls were made for volunteers to serve for three years or during the war.

On August 4, 1862, President Lincoln issued orders for a draft of 300,000 men for nine months’ service, but leave was granted to Governor Andrew to fill the quota of Massachusetts by volunteers, and it was in answer to this call that the men who later became the 48th Massachusetts Infantry were recruited. It was the intention (and great efforts were made by the gentlemen interested in its formation) to make this an exclusively Essex County regiment, but the exigencies of the war made it imperative that all regiments in process of formation should be immediately sent to the front, and for this reason several partially formed regiments were consolidated, and sent forward.

The regiments sent from Massachusetts under this call were designated as follows:—

3d, Col. Silas Richmond; 4th, Col. Henry Walker; 5th, Col. George H. Pierson; 6th, Col. Albert Follansbee; 8th, Col. Frederick J. Coffin; 42d, Col. Isaac S. Burrill; 43d, Col. Charles S. Holbrook; 44th, Col. Francis L. Lee; 45th, Col. Charles R. Codman; 46th, Col. George Bowler; 47th, Col. Lucius B. Marsh; 48th, Col. Eben F. Stone; 49th, Col. William F. Bartlett; 50th, Col. Carlos P. Messer; 51st, Col. Augustus B. R. Sprague; 52d, Col. Halbert S. Greenleaf; 53d, Col. John W. Kimball, and the 11th Battery, Capt. Edward J. Jones, which was the only battery of nine months’ men raised in the Commonwealth.

Of these regiments, the 3d, 5th, 6th, 8th, 43d, 44th, 45th, 46th, and 51st, served their time on the Eastern coast; the 4th, 42d, 47th, 48th, 49th, 50th, 52d, and 53d served in the Army of the Gulf, on the Mississippi River; the 11th Battery served in the Army of the Potomac.

During the month of September, 1862, the men being recruited for the Essex County regiment began to rendezvous in “Camp Lander,” Wenham, Mass., and the Hon. Eben F. Stone, a prominent lawyer of Newburyport, was appointed “Commandant of Camp.”

Barracks had been provided for two or more regiments, wells sunk, and every arrangement made for the comfort of the men, several partially formed companies of which came into camp during the month and were mustered into the U. S. service as soon as they were recruited to a minimum number.

Not much of special importance occurred to disturb the regular routine of camp life while here, the days being spent in actively drilling and becoming acquainted with the duties of a soldier; but occasionally some little break would be made in the monotony of camp life; it seems that there had grown up a feeling of jealousy among some of the officers of another regiment in the camp, because Mr. Stone had been appointed Commandant of Camp from civil life, and without previous military training, when there were other officers in camp who had had such training in the Volunteer Militia, and on October 24 the dissatisfaction culminated in an assault upon Capt. Stone’s headquarters with bricks and other missiles, and for a time matters assumed rather a warlike aspect, but finally settled down with but very little bloodshed.

The quota of Massachusetts under this call was 19,090 men. The great numbers already in the field and the fact that the last previous call of July 2, for 300,000 men for three years’ service had not been entirely filled, made it more difficult to secure these additional men but the officers worked with a will, and soon no doubt was felt that the object would be attained, and the call promptly answered. The first company to secure the requisite number of recruits was the company from Newburyport under command of Capt. Stone, which was mustered September 16, and from that time forward companies were mustered as they obtained the requisite number of men, until about November 1, when there were about 750 men in camp, distributed in eight different companies.

On the day previous to Thanksgiving Day the several companies were furloughed to go home to spend Thanksgiving, to report again in camp Saturday morning; only one company reported in accordance with orders, and as no other company put in an appearance, the Captain gave his men leave to return home, but to report again Monday morning, which they did, as did the other companies, only to feel a little chagrined to find that Adjt. Gen. Schouler, with a part of his staff, had visited the camp on Sunday, and was very angry to find the camp deserted by all but one Lieutenant and just enough men for camp guard. His remarks were reported to have been very forcible, succinct and pithy, the air was said to have been lurid.

He said, “By God! I’ll send this regiment South or to Hell!” and the men concluded that they hadn’t much preference as to the two locations. As a compromise between, the regiment was ordered to move to Camp Meigs, at Readville, Mass., forthwith; but expecting to be sent to one of the aforementioned places later on.

December 4, the regiment broke camp at Wenham and left for Camp Meigs. While marching through Boston at the intersection of Washington and Boylston Streets, the two companies from Lawrence, commanded respectively by Capts. Colby and Rollins left, being transferred to the 4th Regiment which had been recruiting at Lakeville, Mass., thus filling up that regiment, and the unorganized 55th Irish Regiment, which had been also recruiting at Lakeville was brought to Readville, and merged with the remaining six companies from Wenham, which completed the organization of this regiment, thus disposing of all expectation of an Essex County regiment.

All the officers of the Wenham companies petitioned the Governor to allow the Lawrence companies to remain as formerly connected. They were a fine body of men and officers, and, being in the same camp together so long, a strong attachment had sprung up between the different companies; but the request was denied. The men and officers in the Irish regiment were also much dissatisfied, and there were a great many desertions, which (it was said) were encouraged by their officers; a large number of the latter resigned and others were summarily discharged. They had volunteered with the understanding that they were to form an Irish regiment, and they were very indignant that that arrangement was not carried out.

The accession of these new men having given the regiment the necessary number of men, on December 6 an election for field officers was held, and the regiment became the 48th Regiment of Massachusetts Infantry.

Capt. Eben F. Stone of Newburyport was elected Colonel, Mr. James O’Brien of Charlestown was elected Lieutenant-Colonel, and Capt. George Wheatland of Salem was elected Major.

The companies were designated as follows:—Co. A, from Newburyport and vicinity; Co. B, from West Newbury and vicinity; Co. C, from Salisbury and vicinity; Co. D, from Newbury and vicinity; Co. E, from Salem and vicinity; Co. F, at large; Co. G, at large; Co. H, from Lowell; Co. I, at large; Co. K, at large.

The line officers were as follows:—Co. A, Capt. Woodward, Lieuts. Lawrie and Morrison; Co. B, Capt. Stanwood, Lieuts. Rollins and Merrill; Co. C, Capt. Pettengill, Lieuts. Currier and Schoff; Co. D, Capt. Noyes, Lieuts. Lord and Wilson; Co. E, Capt. Howes, Lieuts. Sanders and Lee; Co. F, Capt. Sherman, Lieuts. Noyes and Burnett; Co. G, Captain (vacant), Lieuts. Rudderham and O’Brien; Co. H, Capt. Rogers, Lieuts. Frawley and Maginness; Co. I, Capt. McGuire, Lieuts. Smith and Reade; Co. K, Capt. Todd, Lieuts. Clark and Bellen.

The position of the companies in line of battle:—

December 22. Capt. McGuire of Co. I was discharged and on the 26th Lieut. Smith was promoted to fill the vacancy. This evening Edward Galligher of Co. H was shot dead by Lieut. Lord of Co. D, Provost Marshal, while drunk and disorderly, resisting arrest and assaulting the Marshal.

The regiment remained in Camp Meigs until December 27 actively drilling and the raw recruits getting whipped into shape for active duty in the field, but this morning orders were received to break camp and leave for New York and the South (or the other place previously alluded to) and the regiment left at an hour’s notice, proceeding by rail to Groton, Conn., where they went on board the Sound steamer for New York arriving there at an early hour in the morning of the 28th and going at once on board the “Constellation,” an old sailing vessel, just arrived from Europe with a load of immigrants. It had not been properly cleansed and was very foul and dirty; but it is a soldier’s duty to bear with all sorts of inconveniences, and we soon learned to accept them without an undue amount of grumbling. There was no chance for a fire on board except in the first cabin, consequently the line officers, who occupied the second cabin, and the enlisted men who were quartered between decks, suffered considerably with the cold, but we were consoled with the thought that if we were destined for either of the places threatened by Gen. Schouler we should not be likely to grumble on account of cold weather.

Friday, January 2, got under way at 12.30 P. M., being towed out by tug “Rattler,” which cast off and left us at 4.15, taking ashore a large mail for friends left at home.

January 8 we arrived off the mouth of Chesapeake Bay with little of special importance transpiring. Pilot came on board at 9.30 A. M. and we passed up the bay where we found many of the fleet composing the “Banks Expedition” of which we now find the 48th is a part, and came to anchor just below and near Fortress Monroe where we remained till January 15, when under sailing orders the tug hitched on again and we sailed away South at 2.30 P. M. in a gale of wind. The voyage South lasted until the 30th day of January during which the deadly ship fever (the surgeons call it “Purpura”) broke out on board and several of our men died from its effects and received a soldier’s burial at sea.

It is a sad sight to see the poor fellows launched into the deep dark waves, while their comrades stand nigh with anxious tearful faces. The fever increasing rapidly the men all came upon deck, the hatches battened down and the ship thoroughly fumigated.

The following letter is self-explanatory:

Captain Sherman, after returning home, was met by the clergyman who officiated at the funeral of the young soldier, who said, “Captain, I read your letter at the funeral, and I do not think there was a dry eye in the audience.” “But,” said the Captain, “did you not regard the poetry as heretical?” “You were fully justified,” said the clergyman, “in writing anything you could to comfort that poor heart-broken mother. But who knows that he died unconverted? Were not his last words, ‘God’s will be done?’”

In passing Cape Hatteras we experienced a fierce storm, but the old ship floundered safely along through the boiling sea with but little serious damage. The violent motion of the ship and the corresponding and sympathetic motion of our stomachs reminded us forcibly of the old bass aria in Haydn’s Oratorio of “The Creation,” “Rolling in foaming billows uplifted roars the boisterous sea.” Except these and a few minor incidents the voyage was uneventful.

The vacancy in Captain’s office in Co. G was filled on January 15 by appointment of Lieut. Schoff to that company as Captain.

On looking at the map of the United States we observe that the State of Louisiana lies on both sides of the Mississippi River and that the States of Arkansas and Mississippi lay on the right and left banks of that great stream, 500 miles of whose lower course was thus controlled during the first year of the Civil War by those three States unitedly inhabited by hardly as many white people as the city of New York.

If we observe then the course drained by that river and its tributaries, commencing with Missouri on its right bank and Kentucky on its left bank, we find it to consist of eight or nine large States, large portions of three or four others, and several large Territories, in all a country as large as Europe, as fine as any under the sun, holding at the commencement of the war more people than all the revolted States and destined to become one of the most populous and powerful regions on the face of the globe.

If any at the opening of the war supposed that those powerful States, comprising a great and energetic population, would ever consent to a peace that would put the lower course of that great national outlet to the sea in the hands of a foreign power far weaker than themselves, they were blind indeed to the lessons of history.

The people of Kentucky alone before they were constituted a State gave formal notice to the Federal Government that if the United States did not conquer Louisiana they would conquer it themselves. In the words of a distinguished citizen of that martial State: “The mouths of the Mississippi belong by the gift of God to the inhabitants of its great valley. Nothing but irresistible force can disinherit them.”

Akin to this was the feeling of the men of the Northwest at the outbreak of the Civil War. With them the opening of the Mississippi was an absorbing passion and they entered on that enterprise with alacrity and with a grim determination not to cease from their efforts until that great river which forms a part of the life and very existence of the West should be repossessed, and the insulted ensign of the Republic planted on the last battlements of the Rebellion.

By the Summer of 1863, after many a bloody fight on the river and on the land, they had reached Vicksburg, and Grant had drawn his lines of investment around that stronghold. Meantime their brethren of the East had ascended the river from its mouth and had taken possession of all the rebel defences on the lower Mississippi. Subsequently Farragut, being away on the Gulf coast, the rebels seized the opportunity to fortify and garrison Port Hudson, in Louisiana. There remained then at the opening of the Summer of ’63 these two strongholds, Vicksburg and Port Hudson, the retention of which was necessary to the Confederates if they would maintain their hold on the Mississippi.

Both parties to the struggle realized the importance of these positions. Jefferson Davis, while on a visit to Mississippi to inspect the defences of Vicksburg, spoke as follows in a speech at Jackson before the Mississippi Legislature: “Vicksburg and Port Hudson are the real points of attack. Every effort will be made to capture these places with the object of forcing the navigation of the Mississippi and severing the eastern from the western portion of the Confederacy. Let all then who have at heart the welfare and safety of the country go without delay to Vicksburg and Port Hudson. Let them go for thirty or sixty or ninety days. Let them assist in preserving the Mississippi River, that great artery of our country, and thus conduce more than in any other way to the perpetuation of the Confederacy and the success of our cause.”

Most people probably have a tolerably clear idea of Grant’s campaign against Vicksburg. As the history of the 48th Regiment is inseparably connected with the siege and capture of Port Hudson, it is proper that at this point some description of that place and its defences should be given.

Port Hudson is situated on a bend on the eastern side of the Mississippi about twenty-two miles north of Baton Rouge, and 147 miles from New Orleans. It is 300 miles below Vicksburg. The bluff rising abruptly some forty feet above the surface of the river was covered with fortifications for a space of nearly four miles, constructed upon the most scientific principles of military art and armed with the heaviest and most approved guns which England could furnish the Confederates.

The river as it approaches the bend suddenly narrows and the current striking the west bank is thrown across with great velocity and carries the channel almost directly under the precipitous cliffs. Any vessel attempting the passage would be compelled to run the gauntlet of a plunging fire from the batteries which commanded the river for several miles above and below. Thus it will be seen that on the river side the position was so fortified by nature and art that it was practically impregnable.

On the land side it was scarcely less so. There it was protected by a high parapet extending some seven or eight miles in a semi-circle from river to river, in front of which was a ditch from ten to twelve feet wide and six feet deep. Along nearly the whole line in front of this ditch and extending from half a mile to a mile from it was formerly a heavy growth of timber. This had all been cut down; so that in every direction the fallen tops of trees interlaced, trunks blocked up every passage and brambles were growing over the whole. Moreover, the space where this forest had stood was cut up in every direction by gullies and ravines, all containing more or less fallen timber. Under favorable circumstances, that is with a good supply of ammunition and provisions, and a garrison of 20,000 men, Port Hudson could have resisted any force that could have been brought against it.

The task of taking this stronghold fell to the lot of the Army of the Gulf, consisting mainly of the 19th Army Corps, to which the 48th M. V. M. was attached.

Two o’clock in the morning of Jan. 30, 1863. The old ship Constellation, bearing the 48th Regiment, is lying off the southwest pass of the Mississippi River and is throwing up rockets as a signal for a pilot. Presently a tug comes steaming out from the river and as daylight is breaking we leave the muddy waters of the gulf behind us, not, however, without the assistance of a second powerful tug to take us over the bar, and enter the still muddier waters of the Mississippi. For some miles the river presents no objects of interest. Low marshy shores covered with coarse sedges, fit haunts for alligators and other venomous reptiles—in all about as uninviting a place as can well be imagined. Towards noon we reach the famous Forts Jackson and St. Philip, one of which gives us a salute as we pass.

They were occupied at this time by the 26th Massachusetts Regiment who cheered us lustily as we passed. At 9 o’clock A. M., January 31, arrived at quarantine where the ship was boarded by the health officer, who discovered no reason to detain us, although so very recently having been scourged by the ship fever, and he declared us “all right” and gave us a clean bill.

The only evidence of the desperate fight of the year before when Farragut ran the gauntlet of these forts are the remnants of several rebel gunboats which were destroyed during the fight and driven as high as possible on the banks of the river, and the Union sloop-of-war Varuna, which lay on the bottom of this river with only the tops of her masts out of water. After passing the forts, as we approach New Orleans the country becomes somewhat more interesting. We pass some fine plantations with stately mansions, large sugar houses and long rows of cabins, the habitations of the blacks. Much of the way we run close to the bank and as we turn bend after bend in the river we are tantalized by the sight of orange groves laden with the luscious fruit—so near and yet so far. We see very few white men. Most of them have doubtless gone into the rebel army. Now and then a planter standing on the bank gazes at us sullenly as we pass. It seemed evident that they were not over-pleased to see us. Our only welcome was from the negroes. Their shouts from the levee, accompanied by laughter and frantic gesticulations, bespoke their joy. One white man, bolder than his fellows, shouted the inquiry: “What regiment is that?” and being informed he imparted the cheerful information that we had come all the way from Massachusetts to find our graves—a prophecy which proved true of many a boy on board that ship.

February 1, Sunday, at 3 A. M., we reached New Orleans and anchored opposite the central part of the city, where we remained during the next day. Looking at New Orleans at that time, it was hard to realize that just previous to the opening of the war it had the largest export trade of any city in the world. Its stores closed, its fine business blocks deserted, its levee which had once groaned with the burden of a great commerce empty and desolate, the great metropolis of the Southwest lying under the guns of our ships of war was a mute but vivid witness of the folly of rebellion.

Leaving New Orleans on the 3rd at 11.45 A. M. we proceeded up the river. Above New Orleans the desolation became more marked. War had written his autograph over the whole face of the country. Crops of sugar cane which should have yielded thousands of pounds of sugar were still standing in February, when they should have been gathered months before. No hope of saving them, for the frost had been at work upon them. Moreover, the planter’s negroes had left him, his horses had been stolen, his mules and teams confiscated by the Government. Defiant amid the general wreck, the planters were said to be bitterly cursing President Lincoln and praying for the destruction of the Union armies.

The village of Donaldson, the first place of importance above New Orleans, presented a sorry sight. Its inhabitants had had the bad habit of firing on our weaker steamers as they passed up and down the river. Farragut bore the outrage until forbearance ceased to be a virtue, and then assured the people that if the outrage were again repeated he would shell the town. It was again committed and Farragut, true to his word, bombarded the place until only about half of the original town was left.

Approaching Baton Rouge, 125 miles above New Orleans, on the morning of the 4th, the first thing that attracted our attention was the ruined Capitol of the State, grim and ghastly in the morning light. This fine building was fired when our forces took possession of the town, by whom will never be known. The rebels charged the Unionists with doing the deed when they entered the place, and the Unionists as stoutly asserted that it was the last act of the rebels before leaving. The magnificent library, fine furniture and works of art were all destroyed. Only Powers’ statue of Washington, the work of Northern genius, was rescued from the flames.

Our steamer drew up to the levee at Baton Rouge just as the sweet notes of the reveille were sounding from camp to camp, bugles echoing bugles, fifes warbling, drums beating, while here and there from a distant camp came the rich swell of a full band.

It was with the greatest delight that we disembarked, for we had already learned what it was to suffer. Confined for six weeks on an old hulk for which the Government was paying more every week than the ship was worth, we had not escaped the ravages of disease. The transport on which we had made the trip from New York had formerly been an emigrant ship. The seeds of disease were lurking in her timbers. While we were on the Atlantic a fatal disease—a spotted fever—broke out, and in a few days several of our boys had fallen victims and were consigned to a watery grave.

And now once again on terra firma our spirits rose accordingly, and there was a general feeling of hopefulness and cheer in our ranks as we marched over the bluff to a plain about two miles from the village, where we pitched our tents on a spot which was to be our home for several weeks. Our camping ground had once been occupied by the rebels for the same purpose. It was a part of the field on which the battle of the previous year had been fought. The trees in the vicinity still showed the effects of the shot and fragments of shell, the bones of animals and soldiers’ graves showed that our troops had gained no bloodless victory.

Picket duty, guard duty, and the routine of drill was our life for several weeks. The battlefield with its terrors had thus far kept aloof but we were brought face to face with a chapter of army life hardly less sad.

Though Baton Rouge and the country northward is much more healthful than the fever level below, still there is no place in all that region where one can lead the exposed life of a soldier with impunity. Many of our most rugged men yielded to the fatal miasm with which the night air is laden, and those who had never known a day’s sickness in their lives went daily at the surgeon’s call to get their dose of quinine. Death came and mustered out many. Funerals were of daily occurrence and sometimes it seemed of almost hourly occurrence. The notes of the dead march, the sad, sad wailing of the fife, the mournful throb of the muffled drum, the march with downcast eyes and arms reversed, the parting volley above the grave, and then the return march, quick time, arms at the right shoulder, fifes warbling like birds in springtime, and drums beating merrily—these sights and sounds were far too common.

Our sojourn at Baton Rouge was a period of waiting expectancy. We were learning that to wait is one of the chief duties of a soldier as it is indeed one of the most irksome.

On February 5 the regiment received a few old “Sibley” tents, a lot which had been left behind by some departing regiment. They were musty old things, but some of the boys went into them until our new ones, which we are entitled to, should arrive. Today the 48th was brigaded with the 116th New York, the 21st Maine and the 49th Massachusetts, constituting the 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 19th Army Corps, with Maj.-Gen. C. C. Augur—a regular army officer—in command of the Division; Col. E. P. Chapin of the 116th New York (Senior Colonel) in command of the Brigade, and Maj.-Gen. N. P. Banks in command of the Department, which was designated as the “Department of the Gulf,” and on February 6 muskets and ammunition were dealt out and we then for the first time considered ourselves full-fledged soldiers of “Uncle Sam.”

On March 11 there was a grand review of the troops then at Baton Rouge. The sight of 20,000 well-drilled troops, infantry, cavalry, and artillery is no ordinary spectacle. Banks on his coal-black stallion with his Division and Brigade Commanders made a distinguished appearance, but the writer recalls that his interest centered chiefly in Farragut who with the Captains of the fleet had been invited to witness the parade.

At length on March 12 at 9 P. M. an order came to have twenty-four hours cooked rations and forty rounds of ammunition and be ready to march at a moment’s notice. At daybreak the next morning we marched to the levee at Baton Rouge where we embarked on board a steamer and sailed slowly up the river. Another regiment accompanied us and two companies of cavalry. We had started on a reconnaissance. We were convoyed by the famous gunboat Essex which kept a half a mile ahead of us and occasionally threw a shell into the woods along the shore. We disembarked a few miles below Port Hudson under cover of the guns of the Essex. The road leading to the bluff a distance of a quarter of a mile from the river, swollen by the spring freshets, was entirely under water, in some places reaching nearly to the waists of the shorter men. Wading through this the order of march was formed upon the bluff. The cavalry went ahead, filling the road and stretching out over the fields on either side. We approached within a few miles of the Confederate works and drove in their pickets who left their posts so rapidly as to leave their cooking utensils lying near the smouldering embers of the fire where they had cooked their morning meal. Presently we came upon a company of guerillas who fled to the woods, all but one young fellow who was captured. At about noon, hot, tired and thirsty, we halted for a brief rest at a plantation some sixteen miles from Baton Rouge and I doubt if at any time or place during the great conflict the confiscation law was more vigorously and thoroughly enforced. Within a few minutes after our arrival the feathered inhabitants of the plantation had nothing further to say. Our march from this place to Baton Rouge was a rapid one. We were within a short distance of a comparatively large and powerful army of the enemy and it was quite within the bounds of possibility that a force might be sent out to fall upon us before we could reach our camp. But the reconnaissance on the whole was a success. The road was clear of rebels and about five miles from Baton Rouge where the Montecino Bayou crosses the road we met the division of General Cuvier Grover fresh from their camp at Baton Rouge. No one who witnessed those regiments of infantry and cavalry and the fine batteries accompanying them as they crossed the pontoon bridge and came springing up the hillside, and with their gun-barrels glistening in the rays of the setting sun disappeared from view on the winding road ahead will ever lose the impression there gained.

We reached our camp at Baton Rouge at about 9 o’clock. Most of us were footsore and all were weary, and creeping into our tents we were just settling down to a good night’s rest when down from headquarters came an order to march at 3 the next morning. So in the early morning we fell in each heavily laden with knapsack, a full supply of cartridges and two days’ rations, and started on the road over which we had come the previous day. The morning was cool, the road in good order, trees just budding out and festooned with vines and moss. On the whole we enjoyed the scenery of the Southern forest road and the fresh morning air. Neither the heavy burdens nor the blistered feet caused by yesterday’s weary march could wholly repress our enthusiasm, ignorant as we were of campaign life and eager for a change. But as we got out into the open country and old Sol rising higher and higher got in his work upon us our burdens seemed heavier and heavier every moment and every step was an agony. With rout step and arms at will, on, on we plodded through clouds of dust. No wonder that some of the boys sank by the side of the road exhausted, only to come up late in the evening after the regiment had bivouacked. But the longest day and the weariest march must have an end and as the shades of night were falling we halted at a corn field where, after a hasty meal, we bivouacked for the night. With knapsacks for pillows and the starry heavens for canopy we lay along the ridges of the corn field and tired Nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep, soon came to our relief.

The writer remembers being hastily awakened after a few hours sleep by the comrade by his side who said, “Look up over the trees!” and there we could easily trace the course of the shells from Farragut’s mortar boats and could hear their dull, explosive thud as they fell inside the works at Port Hudson. But even that display of fireworks interested us but for a moment. Soon we were again sleeping soundly unconscious of the tumult on the river. Shortly after midnight the cry, “fall in” passed along the lines and slinging knapsacks and shouldering rifles we passed out of the field past the long, long lines of sleeping men and were again on the march, this time away from Port Hudson. What this movement meant we could not comprehend. Had disaster befallen the fleet or our troops at the front? Were we beginning the retreat? All was doubt and uncertainty. We stumbled along in the thick darkness through the dense woods, the silence of which was broken only by an occasional heavy booming sound from the river. The black darkness of the night grew heavier and heavier. It was at that darkest hour just before the dawn when all at once the entire heavens were aglow. An instant flash of lights as bright as the brightest noonday penetrated the inmost recesses of the forest and for a moment sharply outlined every soldier’s form—then came a sound that shook the very earth, that thundered and reverberated along the entire horizon—then all was still and dark. “What is it?” was the question on every lip. Not until morning had fully dawned did we learn that it was the dying cry of the old warship Mississippi as she sank to her rest beneath the waters of the river whence she had received her name.

The events of that memorable night form one of the most stirring chapters of the history of the war. Farragut having learned of our loss of the steamer Queen of the West between Vicksburg and Port Hudson determined to run past the batteries at the latter place and recover command of the river above. So in his stout flagship, the Hartford, lashed side by side with the Albatross he led the perilous adventure arriving abreast of the rebel works at about midnight. The rebels were on the watch and immediately the flames of a vast bonfire in front of the heaviest batteries lighting up the entire breadth of the river shot up into the sky and the next instant the earth trembled to the roar of all the rebel batteries, whereupon our mortar boats below began firing thirteen-inch shell, and four frigates and five gunboats moved up into the fight. As our ships came past within pistol shot of the batteries grape and canister swept their decks with murderous discharges, the crescent shape of the river enabling them to rake each vessel as it approached and again as it receded. By 1 o’clock the fight was virtually over, the Hartford and the Albatross having passed while most of their consorts had failed and dropped down to their anchorage below, when a fresh blaze told of a heavy loss. The Mississippi had run aground directly abreast of the heaviest and most central battery where her helpless plight was soon discovered and she at once became a target for them all. Here Capt. Melancthon Smith fought her nearly half an hour until she was completely riddled, when he ordered her set on fire and abandoned, and she was burning ashore until she was so lightened that she floated, when she drifted down the river a blazing ruin, exploding several miles below when the fire had reached her magazine.

The morning after this memorable night found the 48th guarding a bridge on a road parallel to the main road from Baton Rouge to Port Hudson. We had fuel prepared ready in an emergency to burn the bridge as it was feared the enemy’s cavalry might attempt to make a dash on the flank of our army. No cavalry appeared, however, and we were soon withdrawn and went into camp on the banks of the Montecino Bayou. And now the troops came pouring back from Port Hudson. They had advanced to the outer works, fired a few shots and retired. Not realizing that the movement was but a feint intended to deceive the enemy in the hope that they might withdraw some of their heavy guns from the bluff and thus make easier the passage of the fleet, Bank’s soldiers showered curses on him and his tactics. They grew calmer when he issued a proclamation saying that the object of the expedition had been successfully accomplished. A week later all the troops were withdrawn to Baton Rouge. Banks with the larger part of the army left for an expedition in Western Louisiana and our Division was left to garrison Baton Rouge. We took up again the daily routine of picket duty, guard duty, and drill, varied occasionally by a night alarm from the picket line when we would hastily fall in in the darkness and prepare to meet an enemy that did not come. Such was our life for two months. Its monotony was broken on the 2d of May when Grierson with his troopers dusty, haggard and wayworn, rode into Baton Rouge. The story of their coming and of their incredible adventures flew like wild fire through the camps and the excitement was at a high pitch. Nothing like it had been known before in the war. Seventeen hundred men had ridden through the entire length of the State of Mississippi from the northeast to the southwest corner, encountering every conceivable danger and hardship. Thousands of Confederates had been trying to find and intercept them. But with matchless skill Grierson had escaped them by circuits, outwitted them by ruses, and attacked and routed them with far inferior numbers. In this raid of 600 miles through a country swarming with foes they had cut two railroads, burned nine bridges, destroyed two locomotives and nearly 200 cars, broken up three rebel camps, destroyed more than $4,000,000 worth of Confederate government property, captured and paroled 1,000 prisoners and brought in with them 1,200 captured horses. Hundreds of dark-hued patriots accompanied them into Baton Rouge mounted on mules and horses they had borrowed from their late masters. Some idea of the pluck and endurance of the Westerners may be obtained from the fact that during the twenty-eight hours preceding their arrival at Baton Rouge they had marched more than sixty miles, had four fights and crossed the Comite River where it was necessary to swim their horses.

As the month of May wore away boat load after boat load of troops arrived at Baton Rouge and it soon became evident that the long-looked for movement against Port Hudson was at hand. The 48th received marching orders on the 11th and on the 18th was again on the familiar road to Port Hudson, starting on an expedition from which many in that column were never to return.

That night we camped sixteen miles from Baton Rouge where we remained until the 21st, on which day we received our baptism of fire. The regiment got into line at an early hour and took up line of march for Port Hudson. We had not moved a mile before the booming of guns ahead announced that our advance had found the enemy and in all probability we would soon be engaged.

On arriving at the intersection of the Bayou Sara and Port Hudson roads near the “Plains Store,” so called, located at that point, the advance was checked by shots from a rebel battery planted at the “store.” Col. Dudley’s Brigade was in the advance and received the first shock; some of his troops skirmished in front while others made a flank movement, and the rebels were routed after quite a sharp engagement.

Lieut. Tucker of the Massachusetts 49th, acting on Col. Chapin’s staff, lost a leg by cannon shot. After the battle was supposed to be over, and the rebels had precipitately retired, the Division (excepting the 48th) made preparations to bivouac in the field at the right and left of the Bayou Sara road near the “Plains Store.” A section of the 5th U. S. Regular Battery was sent a short distance up the Port Hudson road and the 48th Massachusetts was ordered to its support.

Col. Stone was informed that the Illinois cavalry were picketing on his front and right, and the 174th New York infantry on his left, and he was cautioned very strictly to be careful and not shoot those pickets by mistake.

The Staff Officer who conducted the 48th to its position, led them (and also the battery), entirely outside the pickets, so that unknown to Col. Stone the 48th was in a very exposed position, with neither front nor flanks protected. Cos. H and K were detached from the right wing and sent to the rear to guard the baggage train, leaving only three companies, B, E and D, in that wing; these three companies of the right wing, under Lieut.-Col. O’Brien, filed into the woods on the right hand side of the road; and the left wing, Cos. F, G, I, A and C, with Col. Stone, into the woods on the left-hand side of the road, and the battery was placed in the road between the two wings which were entirely separated from each other. Scarcely had the regiment taken its position when the rebels commenced shelling us and our battery smartly returned their fire. While this was transpiring a force of rebel infantry passed around the left flank, and to the rear of the left wing, and as soon as the artillery fire ceased, fell upon them while totally unprepared. The suddenness of the attack threw them into confusion and they gave way and retreated to the rear. The advance of the rebels was met by a countercharge of the 116th New York and the rebels were routed.

A portion of the rebel forces crossed the road and came upon the left flank and rear of the right wing. Lieut.-Col. O’Brien attempted to change front by throwing back his left, but a portion of the men became confused, and Col. O’Brien ordered a retreat. This order was not heard by Capt. Stanwood. Seeing some of his men about to fall back in disorder he ordered them to stand fast, which they did, and with a portion of Cos. E and D fell back about 100 yards and took a new position, rallying on the colors.

General Augur was at the rear and near the Plains Store and witnessed the occurrence: The battery guns went to the rear before the right wing left its position. Col. Stone lost both his horses, captured. At night Co. B went on picket.

The 48th lost two killed, several wounded and prisoners in the fight today.

May 22. Co. B was relieved from picket by Co. F. Calvin A. Farrington of Co. B was missing at roll call, having been taken prisoner. Lieut.-Col. O’Brien and Captain Stanwood were requested to come to Maj.-Gen. Augur’s headquarters, which they did, and were complimented very highly for the part sustained by the right wing in yesterday’s battle; and also some of the officers and men of the left wing who rallied on the colors. The numbers in the right wing were so few that the General supposed at the time that there was but one company. He said the regiment did as well as any but veteran troops would do under the circumstances; that they had by mistake been placed in the wrong position and were very badly posted on either side of the road. He kindly criticised Lieut.-Col. O’Brien and told him that he made a great mistake by trying to make a wheel to the rear in the face of an aggressive enemy, his men being under fire for the first time; none but seasoned troops could do that safely. He said the Lieutenant-Colonel should have ordered the right of his command forward and met the enemy, and taken the aggressive, and he had confidence, from what he witnessed of their steadiness, that the men would have supported him. He then complimented the men for coolness under fire and said no doubt the regiment would feel chagrined at the outcome of their first battle, but no doubt an early opportunity would be given them to retrieve themselves. He also said that if the regiment should be called upon for volunteers for an assaulting party, in a future assault (which he thought would be the case very soon) he directed Captain Stanwood of Co. B and his company not to feel as if called upon, but to remain with the main body of the regiment, that he would not be expected to volunteer in any forlorn hope or assaulting party. His 1st Lieut. (Rollins) detailed to Col. Chapin’s staff. Lieut. Merrill was acting Quartermaster of the regiment for some considerable time.

May 23. Alarm in the night—long roll beaten—regiment turned out under arms, but the alarm proved to be false. 48th ordered far down to the rear of the 1st Battery fight on the Bayou Sara road.

Co. E’s men proved themselves good foragers, bringing in quantities of poultry and pigs.

May 24. Regiment ordered to march to the front with one day’s rations at 6 o’clock A. M. Co. B was detached and sent forward skirmishing into a narrow strip of woods; the mud and water were very deep and almost impenetrable. They advanced, however, with great difficulty through the woods to within about 300 yards of the rebel works and there remained through the day, lying in the edge of the woods, and witnessed the artillery battle between the opposing batteries in our immediate front till nearly dark when they were relieved by the Massachusetts 49th.

May 25. There was a smart fight near night upon our right in Gen. Grover’s Division and some rebs attempted to cut their way out but failed and were taken prisoners. The regiment ordered to sleep on their arms tonight.

May 26. One false alarm during the night. Regiment got into line promptly, but as promptly dismissed. Orders received from headquarters for volunteers for a “Forlorn Hope” to charge in advance of the brigade line, and storm the enemy’s works tomorrow morning.

There were more than the required number came forward from the brigade (the call was for 200 men from the brigade) and ninety-two men were accepted from the 48th Massachusetts. The following are the names of those accepted from the 48th: Lieut.-Col. O’Brien; Co. A, Capt. Woodward, Lieut. Morrison, Privates E. C. Varina, N. F. Peabody, Isaac F. Porter, Henry M. Cross; Co. C, Lieut. Emery; Co. D, Private J. F. Kinsman; Co. E, Privates Geo. Wagner, John Lewis, H. Mansfield, Henry Krone, J. F. Stoddard; Co. F, Lieut. Noyes, Privates Austin Smith, George Bocock, P. Noonan, A. Mullins, John McDougal, J. P. Blanchard, D. C. Morrill, E. J. Oakes; Co. G, Capt. Schoff; Co. H, Capt. Rogers, Lieut. Frawley, Lieut. McGinness, Sergts. Thomas McLaughlin, John W. Leyes, Richard Ward, Corporals Timothy Lehiffe, Robert Leach, James Gildee, Daniel Desmond, Privates Michael Farley, Morrissey A. Hearn, Joseph Burgess, John Boyle, John Bradley, Michael Bates, Patrick Cullins, Patrick Dumey, Wm. Finnigan, James Gilogby, Matthew R. Gleason, John Kelley, James Leach, Dennis Leon, Dennis Noonan, James Walsley, Thomas Scully, Peter McCauley, Patrick Manus, William A. Murphy, Patrick Murray, James O’Connell, Wm. Powers, James Quigley, Patrick Riley, James Spear, Edward Slyne, William Tagget, Hugh Willey; Co. I, Capt. Smith, Lieut. Ricker, Lieut. Bassett; Co. K, Lieut. Harding, Privates Daniel Crowley, Ed. Ryan, J. Gallagher, James Rand, J. Keenan.

May 27. Before the men had had their breakfast orders were received to assault the enemy’s works. Immediately we advanced quietly to the extreme edge of the woods where we laid on our arms till about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, the “Forlorn Hope” under command of Lieut.-Col. O’Brien in the advance. At that hour and before the main line had fairly formed for the assault we received a volley from the enemy’s guns and at the same time the zip of the rebel bullets was getting unpleasantly frequent. General Augur, who stood very near, seeing the men dodge their heads at the disagreeable sound said, “No use boys to dodge them after you hear them,” a fact we soon learned by experience. The “Forlorn Hope” had commenced the charge, O’Brien saying, “Come boys! pick up your bundles and follow me,” and General Augur gave the command, “Forward the Brigade,” and the whole brigade advanced into the “slashings.” The whole forest of large trees and small had been felled and the limbs lopped off and left upon the ground, which was entirely covered with the stumps, logs and brush; and through this almost impenetrable Chevaux de Frise, the men attempted to charge, and over which a perfect storm of shell, canister and rifle bullets flew like hail; no formation could be maintained over such grounds and in a few moments it was every one for himself. The “Forlorn Hope” and the main line became inextricably mixed, and advanced together, charged nearly up to the rebel works, but the fire was so severe that human endurance was not equal to the task set for us, and the men were compelled to drop behind stumps and logs, and take advantage of any shelter to be found, and acted as sharpshooters, hoping that reinforcements might be sent up and continue the assault. The 2d Louisiana from Dudley’s brigade came up the road later, but too late to be of any service, and the assault was abandoned, and the men dropped back individually to their old line as best they could. Col. Chapin, 116th New York, commanding the brigade, Lieut.-Col. O’Brien, 48th Massachusetts, commanding the “Forlorn Hope,” and many others were killed; Capt. Rogers, Co. H, Capt. Smith, Co. I, Lieuts. Morrison, Frawley, Maginnis, Ricker, Bassett and Harding, and many others wounded, and a large number of the rank and file of the regiment were killed or more or less seriously wounded; Lieut. Ricker suffered the amputation of his leg. As we came back from the front, we had our first sight of the dreadful effects of a battle and burial of the dead in one line, about twenty dead bodies lying at the side of the road, and the long trench all ready to receive them. Poor fellows, with no coffin and no shroud but the blue uniform in which they had shed their blood for the flag they loved.

May 28. Ambulances and stretchers under flags of truce have been going all night, bringing in the bodies of the dead and wounded. Col. Chapin’s body has been sent to New Orleans. Lieut.-Col. O’Brien’s body has just been found in the most advanced line. When his clothes were opened the bullet which penetrated his body fell out, it having passed entirely through him and flattened up against a steel vest which he wore into the battle. He recklessly exposed himself and lost his life by so doing, seeking to retrieve himself from Gen. Augur’s kindly criticism of his mistake of the 21st at Plains Store.

May 29. The regiment laid on their arms all night in expectation of an attack by the garrison, but the night passed away and all has been quiet in camp today. Several heavy thunder showers in the afternoon. Orders received to fall in with all our traps and go to the rear; mud very deep and the march tedious.

The 2d Louisiana has been attached to our brigade and Col. Charles J. Paine of that regiment, being senior Colonel, takes command of the brigade. He is a Massachusetts man and is said to be a fine officer.

May 30. Cannonading going on all the night and day from the batteries and from the fleet. Marched back to our old camp in front.

June 1. A Lieutenant of sharpshooters wounded during the early morning. Gen. Banks was much chagrined at the failure of the first assault. Regiment marched back to the rear after dark to support batteries. Laid in cornfield with cornstalks for bedding and pillow.

June 2. Regiment got into line at 4 o’clock and marched back to old camp ground. Co. E detailed to go to the rear to guard the baggage train to relieve Co. G.

June 3. Smart cannonading all night. Gen. Banks and Admiral Farragut give the rebs no peace day or night.

June 4. Regiment marched back to the old camp in front. Four men of Co. B reported from Baton Rouge.

June 5. Officers ordered to report at Brigade Headquarters to confer about Lieutenant-Colonelcy. The laws of Massachusetts state explicitly that the vacancy shall be filled by the votes of the line officers of the regiment.

June 6. Rumored preparations for another assault. Col. Stone sent for Capt. Stanwood and requested him to act as Lieutenant-Colonel till the vacancy could be legally filled, saying that an election would soon be ordered.

June 7. False alarm in the night. Man with nightmare disturbed camp by upsetting a stack of guns and bringing out the whole regiment. Inspection at 9 o’clock A. M.

June 8. Harrison W. Dearborn, Co. B, died at Baton Rouge. Immense lots of cotton bales being hauled to the front for breastworks.

June 9. Smart firing during the night. Large fire to be seen in Port Hudson.

June 10. Some heavy cannonading during the night. Chaplain came up from Baton Rouge with mail today. Quartermaster came up from Baton Rouge with new teams.

June 11. Many of the men are suffering badly from rheumatism, malaria and kindred ailments, acquired from lying in the rifle pits, which are much of the time half full of water. Nothing more has been said regarding an election of Lieutenant-Colonel, and there is much speculation among the officers and men as to the reason.

June 12. An election for Lieutenant-Colonel was ordered by Col. Stone and held today and Capt. Stanwood was unanimously chosen.

June 13. The regiment received orders at 10 o’clock A. M. to report to Gen. Augur’s headquarters at once. On reporting to Gen. Augur we were ordered to march away to the right to report to Gen. Arnold, chief of artillery. Reported at about 11 o’clock after a very quick march, in which many of the men suffered terribly, it being in the very heat of the day and with but one halt on the road; we must have marched at least seven or eight miles. Stacked arms and took entrenching tools—which in plain English means picks and shovels and axes. Some of the companies were detailed to clear out a big ravine which led up in the direction of the rebel breastworks and just in the rear of where it was intended to plant a battery, while others were busied in throwing up the breastworks, carrying up ammunition and other duties. Worked till dark and without supper; made preparations to bivouac, when we were ordered to take up our march again to our old camp at the rear near the Plains Store, whence we had started in the morning. Arrived in camp late in the evening, and after enjoying (?) coffee and hardtack laid our tired bones on the ground with the hope of gaining some rest; but our hopes were blasted. We had got scarcely settled to rest when the following order was received directly from Gen. Banks’ headquarters: