The company proceeded to Franklin, April 14th, upon the Sykes, with gunboat Clifton for an escort, leaving their bridge where it was in position, with a detachment on guard. From Franklin the men were kept moving down and up the river, on the lookout for torpedoes, and at work to try and remove the wreck of the Confederate gunboat Cotton, blown up by the enemy in January, obstructing free navigation where she sunk. Plenty of opportunities were found to go ashore on foraging expeditions.
Orders were received on the twenty-third to join the army, well on its way towards Opelousas. Small boats took the men down to where their pontoon bridge lay, when it was taken in tow for Brashear City, and arrived there in the afternoon. The bridge was taken up on the twenty-fifth, loaded upon wagons, and transported on the steamer G. A. Sheldon, that left Brashear City on the twenty-sixth for Barre’s Landing, via Grand Lake, the Atchafalaya and the Cahawba Rivers, stopping at Butte a-la-Rose to leave supplies for the gunboat Calhoun. On arrival at Barre’s Landing on the twenty-eighth, wagons were sent ashore and the command went into camp. Bustle and excitement ruled the hours. A large amount of cotton kept coming in to the army, and was stored or shipped by steamers to Brashear.
From exposure upon the bayou Lieutenant Harding became sick with malarial fever, that forced him to leave his company April 21st and return to the regimental hospital for treatment. The command fell on Lieutenant Gorham, who was not equal to the task. With a weakness for liquor he could not control, this one fault completely unfitted him for such a position as he held. He was reprimanded once by a general officer, who noticed he was inebriated while on duty and cautioned him not to repeat the offence. Gorham failed to obey the caution, was found by the rear guard in a state of intoxication at a rebel’s house on Carnell’s Plantation, and at Alexandria, May 9th, was placed in arrest. Captain Smith, First Louisiana Engineers, was placed in command of Company K until Lieutenant Harding should rejoin. The option was given Lieutenant Gorham to resign or stand trial by court-martial. He chose the former, and was discharged from the service of the United States by Department Special Orders No. 115, issued May 13th.
General orders were issued to prevent straggling and pillage. As these orders were not promulgated to Company K, and many men never heard read General Orders No. 29, it is here given:
“Headquarters Dept. of the Gulf, “19th Army Corps, “Opelousas, April 21st, 1863.
“General Orders No. 29.
“The exigencies of the service, and safety of the troops, imperatively demand that the disposable force of the corps shall march in column, except where necessary detachments upon special duty are ordered by superior officers. The desertion of the column upon the march, or straggling, for the purposes of pillage and plunder, is an offence made punishable with death by the Articles of War. The honor of the flag, and the safety of the men who faithfully discharge their duty, demand that this law be enforced; and the commanding general gives notice, absolute and positive, that this punishment will be executed upon those men, of whatever command, who violate the army regulations and dishonor the service by inexcusable and atrocious acts of this kind. All officers, of whatever grade, who shall allow the men under their respective commands to leave the line of march or the camp, without authority, will be summarily and dishonorably discharged the service, as unworthy to participate in the triumphant march of this column. The army is now hundreds of miles from its base of operations, in the enemy’s country. The campaign may be made one of the most creditable of the war, or it may disgrace the troops and dishonor the country. The commanding general appeals to officers and men to reflect upon their position, to consider their duties, and faithfully to discharge the obligations which rest upon them, and is, for himself, determined to execute the severest sentence of military law upon those who basely betray the service and dishonor their country in this regard. Whatever property may be necessary for the support of the army, or may be prostituted to support the rebellion, will be taken by the Government, and due reparation will be made therefor. But we do not war upon women and children, however much and in whatever way they may have erred. Our contest is with the men and the armies of the rebellion.
“Information has been received at these headquarters that the lives of officers as well as of the men of the line have been endangered by the unauthorized and criminal discharge of firearms by persons engaged in pillage. Notice is given to all officers and soldiers that the parties engaged in these practices will be held responsible for the consequences of their acts, and that such offences will be punished with the severest penalties prescribed by the Articles of War. This order is not a matter of form, but will be rigidly enforced during the campaign.
“Officers in every division, brigade and regiment of this command are directed to place a rear-guard for the purpose of preventing stragglers from falling to the rear of the column. Where men are sick or foot-sore, upon the certificate of the surgeon, they will be allowed such conveyance or provided with such hospital accommodations as their situation may require. The captured straggler is the best source of information that the enemy possesses. A soldier who deserts his column in the face of the enemy will not hesitate to betray his comrades, and deserves the penalty which the law provides for his great wrong.
“By command of
“MAJOR-GENERAL BANKS. “Richard B. Irwin, “Assistant Adjutant-General.”
Several men of Company K got permission of Sergeant Johnson to forage, and went down the river on the twenty-eighth for the express purpose of pillage and plunder, returning next day with silver spoons and jewelry they had taken from a dwelling, whose owner promptly reported this case of burglary to General Grover. Lieutenant Gorham was ordered to parade his company in front of Grover’s headquarters, where the property owner identified Sergeant Baker, Corporal Bates, Privates E. G. Bacon, Luke Bowker, A. J. Thayer, E. M. Thayer and James Mins as connected with this affair. They were placed in arrest, sent to Algiers, and confined for twenty days before released from their dilemma with a reprimand, because they could give conclusive proof Orders No. 29 had not been promulgated to them.
Under orders to proceed to Alexandria the company and pontoon train left Barre’s Landing May 5th, with a column of troops under Grover, reaching Washington at half-past six in the evening, after a twelve-mile march, and remained over night. On the sixth, after a march of twenty-four miles over a rough road, a halt was made at a large sugar-house for the night. This was a tough day for the men; wagons broke through small bridges crossing ravines, had to be unloaded, bridges repaired, wagons repaired and reloaded, fences taken down to facilitate passing across plantations, and other innumerable vexatious accidents that make soldiers swear. On the seventh an early start was made; twenty miles marched before a halt for the night was made at a sugar-house two miles from Chanaville. On the eighth the march was continued to Carnell’s Plantation, sixteen miles from Alexandria, and on the ninth, after an early start, Company K reached Alexandria at noon. Nothing was done at this place except to guard a ferry across Red River, where forage parties, negroes and horses were constantly coming over.
Ordered to Simmsport, with troops destined to invest Port Hudson, the pontoon train again joined a column that left Alexandria May 13th, about two o’clock in the afternoon. Fourteen miles were marched that day; about twenty miles to Cheneyville on the fourteenth; eighteen miles to Evergreenville on the fifteenth; to Moreanville on the sixteenth, twelve miles from Simmsport. Simmsport was reached about noon on the seventeenth, after an average march of fifteen miles a day. Two pontoon rafts and an abutment were built next day for a part of the army to cross the Atchafalaya River to take transports at points on Red River for Port Hudson. The current was too strong and river too wide to permit the bridge to be used, and flatboats had to be brought into requisition. A portion of the troops marched to Morganza, on the Mississippi River, and took transports there.
Lieutenant Harding and Private Austin Hawes rejoined the company on the twenty-first to find the army had departed that day, leaving a guard over baggage and trains, that were moved as fast as transportation could be provided. It was on Sunday, the twenty-fourth, before Company K could proceed upon the steamer Forest Queen, arriving at Bayou Sara about ten o’clock the same night. The pontoon teams did not arrive until late in the evening of the twenty-fifth, when they were loaded, ready for an early start next morning.
The first assault on the enemy’s works at Port Hudson was arranged for May 27th. On the twenty-sixth Company K, with the pontoon train, started from Bayou Sara at four o’clock A.M., under orders to bridge Bayou Sandy (or Sandy Creek) on the Federal right. They arrived at two o’clock P.M., after a terrible hot and dusty march of sixteen miles. A light footbridge had been built over the bayou by pioneers, and one colored regiment was on the other side skirmishing with the enemy in a cool, collected manner. Work was at once commenced on a pontoon bridge two hundred and eighty feet long. Shot and shell from the Confederate works, less than a mile away, would occasionally fly over the heads of men at work, who ran for shelter when they could. The enemy’s infantry retired when the Thirty-Eighth Massachusetts Infantry and Eighteenth New York Battery put in an appearance. At night the Third and Fourth Regiments Louisiana (colored) Native Guards relieved the Thirty-Eighth and the battery. Everybody not obliged to be on picket or guard, slept through the night as only worn-out men can sleep, without a thought of the morrow, undisturbed by the continual boom from heavy guns fired by naval vessels bombarding the enemy.
Next day, Wednesday, at half-past five o’clock A.M., two negro regiments (First and Third Louisiana Native Guards), with other troops from Colonel Nelson’s brigade and two brass guns Sixth Massachusetts Battery, crossed both bridges to assault a redoubt. The battery-guns were handled in the road until withdrawn, with a loss of three horses killed and two men wounded. The infantry, with great bravery, pushed up close to the earthworks, where they found an overflow of water from the bayou a serious obstacle to success, and were obliged to retreat to cover of woods. One brave mulatto officer was left dead in the water near the redoubt. Five ineffectual advances through this water were made by Nelson’s colored brigade to scale a high bluff on which the redoubt stood, suffering heavily (about four hundred in killed and wounded), before approaches could be commenced on advanced ground that was gained and held. A cavalry detachment arrived late in the afternoon, dismounted and skirmished forward without any result. On their return an orderly-sergeant was killed while recrossing the bridge. During the day shells from the enemy came fast, and were exploding lively among the tree tops about Sandy Creek, where Company K remained as a bridge-guard. The enemy had the range, but could not depress their guns to make shot do any execution.
Corporals Lovegrove, Alden and a private were stationed at night on the exposed end to cut the lashings, so the bridge could be swung to the other shore by guy ropes, in case the enemy came down in force. The men not on guard slept in sheltered places, behind trees, anywhere to escape from shells fired by the enemy throughout the night. Early in the evening Lovegrove picked out a place, spread his blanket and was about to lie down when a shell went under his temporary sleeping bunk without exploding.
In this general assault of May 27th the following (nine months) Massachusetts troops were engaged at various points on the lines, with credit to themselves:
Forty-Eighth Infantry, in First Brigade, First Division, had seven killed, forty-one wounded.
Forty-Ninth Infantry, in First Brigade, First Division, seven companies engaged, had sixteen killed, sixty wounded.
Fiftieth Infantry, in Third Brigade, First Division, had one killed, three wounded.
Fifty-Third Infantry, in Third Brigade, Third Division, had none killed, several wounded.
The Thirtieth, Thirty-First and Thirty-Eighth Infantry (three years troops) were also in the action.
After this first assault the pontoon bridge was taken up, loaded upon wagons for an immediate start to any portion of the lines, and Company K went into camp, near other camps, about one and one-half miles to the rear. In preparation for a second assault the entire train was moved, June 4th, to a position near General Banks’ headquarters. On the tenth three detachments from the company, with sections of bridge work, were detailed to several division commanders, with orders to be prepared to bridge the ditch in front of the enemy’s works. Lieutenant Harding, with about twenty men, remained in camp near general headquarters as a guard over material not in use.
Corporal Lovegrove, with three men of Company K, was assigned to the First Division, General Augur. Forty-two men from the Forty-Ninth Massachusetts and One Hundred and Sixty-First New York Regiments were sent to him and placed under his orders for practice.
Corporal Bates, with a squad of nine Company K men, was assigned to the Second Division, General Dwight, until the fourteenth, when Corporal Hall relieved him.
Sergeant Howe, with about fifteen men of Company K, was assigned to the Fourth Division, General Grover. Forty men from other commands were detailed to assist Howe.
A flag of truce was sent to General Gardner on the thirteenth, demanding a surrender of Port Hudson, which he refused, and the bombardment recommenced along the entire line from new batteries, a prelude to an assault on the fourteenth, when an attempt was made by the Second Division to work up quietly through a ravine and rush over the works, while the Fourth Division assaulted the enemy’s left, near Sandy Creek. At daylight Corporal Lovegrove was ordered to load his bridge on a wagon, and the detachment went to within a short distance of the works, where they waited for orders. A siege battery in front and two light batteries maintained a fire nearly all day. The smoke became so dense nothing could be seen in front. No assault in force was ordered, and at five o’clock P.M. this detail returned to camp. Sergeant Howe and his detachment was with a brigade commanded by General Paine, in the third line, ready to bridge the ditch immediately after the storming party obtained a foothold within the intrenchments. This assault was repulsed. After General Paine was wounded, just as the ditch was reached, the men were ordered to lie down until chance enabled them to creep away in safety towards the rear. For hours the men lay in a burning hot sun, shot and shell flying thick around them. Fortunately none of Company K were killed or wounded; three men received slight scratch wounds. Two men of other regiments, in the bridge detail, were killed. Some of the men of Company K with Sergeant Howe on this day were: Privates Giles Blodgett, Warner E. Bacon, Benjamin F. Bacon, Amos D. Bond, Asa Breckenridge, Austin Hawes, R. W. Homer, Samuel King and Charles S. Knight. The Thirty-Eighth Massachusetts took two hundred and fifty men into this assault, and lost one officer, seven men killed; five officers, seventy-seven men wounded; or about thirty-five per cent. of its strength. Eight companies of the Fifty-Third Massachusetts were engaged, three hundred men, and lost one officer, thirteen men killed; six officers and sixty-six men wounded; or about thirty per cent. of its strength.
Other Massachusetts troops at Port Hudson, in this second assault, suffered as follows:
Fourth Infantry, in First Brigade, Third Division, had two companies detailed, with three companies from other regiments, to carry hand grenades in advance of the attacking column. Captain Bartlett, Company K, had command, and was mortally wounded upon the breastworks. Other companies of this regiment were in the reserve line. This regiment lost six killed, sixty-two wounded, a number mortally. Most of the casualties were in Companies A and K. Captain Hall, Company A, was wounded.
Thirtieth Infantry was in the reserve column and did not participate. The color-sergeant was wounded.
Thirty-First Infantry was in the Third Division assaulting column. Lost thirty men out of two hundred and fifty engaged.
Forty-Eighth Infantry was in the assaulting column and lost two killed, eleven wounded.
Forty-Ninth Infantry was in the brigade, First Division, that made a feigned assault, losing eighteen killed and wounded.
Fiftieth Infantry was in the reserve column and did not participate.
Fifty-Second Infantry was deployed as skirmishers between Weitzel and Grover, to prevent any flank movement on the assaulting columns. Lost three killed, seven wounded; one officer mortally.
For these two assaults many gallant men volunteered to lead the several columns. After the second failure it was at once decided to try a third time, and orders were issued to organize a storming column, after this style:
“General Orders No. 49.
(Extract.)
“For the last duty that victory imposes, the commanding general summons the bold men of the Corps to the organization of a storming column of a thousand men to vindicate the Flag of the Union and the memory of its defenders who have fallen; let them come forward.
“Officers who lead the column of victory in this last assault may be assured of the just recognition of their services by promotion, and every officer and soldier, who shares its perils and its glory, shall receive a medal fit to commemorate the first grand success of the campaign of 1863 for the freedom of the Mississippi. His name will be placed in General Orders upon the Roll of Honor.
“By command of
“MAJOR GENERAL BANKS. “Richard B. Irwin, “Assistant Adjutant-General.”
Between the three years and nine months troops from Massachusetts, engaged at Port Hudson, there was no choice as to which behaved the best. They all did well in the positions they were placed.
The entire day of the fifteenth was occupied in removing dead and wounded men to the rear. All sick and wounded who could bear transportation were sent to Springfield Landing, thence by steamers to New Orleans, for distribution in the general hospitals. Hot weather made heavy inroads on the effective strength of besieged and besiegers.
Sergeant Perry, Corporal Bryant, Privates McIntosh, Johnson, Bruce, Desper, L. Barnes, Wheeler, Flagg and Sibley, who had been in hospital at Gentilly Bayou, with six other men that were in New Orleans, rejoined Company K June 15th, in obedience to orders issued June 11th. Hospital-Steward Wood was sent with them from the camp at Gentilly. The effective strength on duty during June was: one officer, four sergeants, seven corporals, one musician and fifty privates—total, sixty-two enlisted men.
From June 14th to July 8th the duties of Company K were easy. Several men volunteered and served in the batteries, while the detailed detachments and sections of bridge work remained with each division, ready for any movement that should be ordered. News that Vicksburg surrendered July 4th was heralded to the troops early on the morning of July 7th, by a heavy artillery salute given by the left battery. This was followed by an intended salute to the enemy, at noon, by all of the Federal batteries engaged in the siege. The Confederates answered by displaying a flag of truce, and an armistice for twenty-four hours was arranged between the two commanding generals. Soldiers on each side then met each other half way between their respective lines, without arms, during the night and morning, and had a jolly good time together, until a formal surrender took place in the afternoon of July 8th.
Receiving orders to get ready to take the field, the bridge was packed upon the wagons, and Company K marched into Port Hudson at five P.M. July 9th, all ready to embark at once on transports from the landing. For three days, under orders and counter-orders, the company remained in Port Hudson, while other troops were embarked and sent down the river.
To open river communication, the entire First Division, General Weitzel in command (General Augur was ill), was embarked at Port Hudson upon transports, at night, July 9th, and sent down to Donaldsonville, disembarking on the morning of July 10th. Other troops marched to Baton Rouge, for transportation to the same place, and the pontoon train was ordered to follow at midnight July 12th. Roused from slumber the men worked hard until morning, when the steamer St. Maurice carried them to Donaldsonville, arriving in the evening, July 13th, too late to take part in a reconnoissance made that day by the Third Brigade, First Division, under Colonel N. A. M. Dudley, Thirtieth Massachusetts.
What few particulars can be gathered of this second action on the La-Fourche are here recorded:
General Taylor heard of the fall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson during the night of July 10th. He immediately concentrated his troops on the La-Fourche, at Labadieville and Donaldsonville, to offer resistance if pressed, until sufficient time was gained to clean out his spoils in Brashear City.
July 11th, the Thirtieth Massachusetts skirmished down Bayou La-Fourche about four miles, when they met the enemy’s cavalry in force, and returned to Donaldsonville towards night. At noon the next day this regiment again marched down the bayou road about one mile before meeting the enemy’s pickets, who retired after an exchange of shots, a lieutenant of the Thirtieth being wounded. After proceeding nearly four miles, this regiment, with four guns Sixth Massachusetts Battery, went into bivouac on Kock’s Plantation.
Early on the morning of July 13th a few shells dropped into the woods where General Green’s dismounted cavalry and Semmes’ battery were under cover, served to elicit a reply from that battery; an artillery-fire was maintained on both sides for about two hours. Under orders not to bring on an engagement, the First and Third Brigades advanced down the right side of the bayou, accompanied by an additional battery (First Maine), while a detachment from Grover’s division, commanded by Colonel Morgan, Ninetieth New York, advanced down the left bank. Had the pontoon bridge been on hand to facilitate the carrying of orders across, perhaps the disaster of this day would not have occurred. The bayou was not wide, but no boats or skiffs were to be found. There was a stupid disposition of the Federal forces, who must have outnumbered the Confederates, with an absence of intelligent orders from the colonel in command, that has never been satisfactorily explained.
Upon the left bank, in front of Colonel Morgan, was a wide, open plain. In front of troops upon the right bank were sugar-cane fields, the stalks grown about seven feet high, with scattered trees, thick shrubbery and houses, both on and off the road, completely obstructing a view of what was taking place along the line. The Thirtieth Massachusetts, covering the bayou road, could not see beyond two hundred yards or so. While artillery-fire continued the men were nonchalant, paying little attention to shells, as they did no material damage. Some of the men improved the opportunity to bathe in the bayou and wash their underclothing.
Until two o’clock P.M. skirmish lines engaged the enemy; companies from the Thirtieth Massachusetts supported a section First Maine Battery, the One Hundred and Seventy-Fourth New York supporting another battery. At two o’clock Confederate cavalry on the left bank were seen to deliberately form line on the open plain and swoop down in fine style, with a continual yell, on the men under Colonel Morgan, who fell back rapidly, exposing Federal troops on the right bank to a flank fire. About the time this cavalry charge was made Confederate infantry and dismounted men, without the customary yell, carefully skirmished through the cane fields on the right bank, towards the Federals, who opened an infantry-fire in support of the artillery. No connected account of what happened along the line can be obtained, but it is well known that the Thirtieth Massachusetts suddenly found themselves receiving a sharp fire from across the bayou, a hot fire in front, and stray bullets from the cane fields to their right. Part of the regiment lay down behind a provisional breastwork made by the levee bank, which was also extended by them over the bayou road, and tried to silence the enemy seen in their wide-brim slouch hats on the other bayou side.
Though the enemy steadily crept along in front, to rise, fire and drop, to continue creeping up, no one seemed to think of a retreat. The two guns, First Maine Battery, were in an open space between the bayou road and levee bank, just back of the Thirtieth Massachusetts men. Exposed to the enemy’s fire from across the bayou, the cannoneers sought shelter by laying upon the ground under their guns. Lieutenant Healy, in command, was obliged to use his sword on his men to force them up and serve the pieces; without aid, he loaded and fired a gun several times. This state of things continued until about three o’clock, when these guns became heated and could not be used; all the artillery horses were killed or disabled, with but four artillery-men left fit for duty, as the rest were killed or wounded.
Orders had been given to retreat, obeyed by some men who heard them, while others did not obey because they did not hear on account of the noise made by the musketry, artillery and bursting shells. The men who remained fought on for a short time, when two small companies One Hundred and Seventy-Fourth New York Infantry crowded in on them, pell-mell from the right, and completely filled the space that sheltered the Thirtieth Massachusetts, leaving bare enough elbow room to work in; still they kept on fighting (these One Hundred and Seventy-Fourth New York and Thirtieth Massachusetts men) to hold their ground, and at this time the heaviest loss of the day occurred.
When it was seen men were in retreat and the enemy was closing in rapidly, Captain Fiske, Lieutenant Barker, with some dozen men of the Thirtieth Massachusetts, endeavored to save the battery-guns by hauling them over a levee bank to the roadway with drag ropes. One gun was saved; one gun was abandoned, or thrown into the bayou. All of the troops upon and near the road then retreated in good order, exchanging shots from behind house corners and such shelter as could be found; in a few cases individual soldiers almost crossed bayonets with men of the enemy. The Thirtieth Massachusetts colors were defended by a handful of men until safe to the rear.
Colonel Dudley endeavored to rally his men for another stand, or check the enemy’s advance, and succeeded in forming a line of about seventy-five men. This line fired a few rounds and then continued the retreat. On the retreat Private Horace F. Davis, Thirtieth Massachusetts, was cut off in a cane field by Confederate cavalry, made a prisoner about six o’clock, and with about fifty more prisoners was corralled under a cluster of trees, guarded by sentries. A rain-storm set in at night, accompanied with heavy thunder and sharp lightning, which enabled Private Davis to pass between two Texans, who were leaning upon their rifles on guard, and escape by crawling along in the darkness between the lightning flashes, avoiding the enemy, whose location was shown by their camp fires, around which they congregated, until he joined a flag-of-truce party, sent out after the dead and wounded. With this party he remained on duty, no one supposing he did not come out with them, finally rejoining his regiment at one o’clock A.M.
Private Davis, while firing from behind the breastwork across the road, was in range of a battery-gun First Maine. His attention was called to the fact, and at the moment he looked behind a shell was fired from this gun, the concussion as it passed over him causing a prickly sensation in his right eye. Nothing was thought about it at the time, or for some time after, until he discovered the sight was gone. Not daunted by this discovery, Davis remained on duty with his regiment, and reënlisted, with one eye, when his first term expired. The sight to his right eye has never been restored.
Other Massachusetts troops in this action were the Forty-Eighth and Forty-Ninth Regiments, attached to the First Brigade, and the Sixth Battery.
The Forty-Eighth was posted in sugar-cane fields to the extreme right, with a skirmish line out. In retreating, no orders were sent to the skirmishers, who were surrounded before they knew it, and lost two officers and twenty-one men taken prisoners.
The Forty-Ninth was posted in a lane that ran at a right angle with the bayou, and were lying down when the fight commenced. The regiment was soon ordered to a sugar-house, seen above the sugar-cane, about five hundred yards to the right and front, to reënforce a regiment and battery supposed to be there. No troops were found on arrival at the place. This regiment caught a moderate infantry-fire from the front, and saw a mounted force upon its right. Confederate infantry got in on the left of them, when the regiment fell back to the lane, and there remained until a staff-officer, Lieutenant Weber, got to them by the rear and ordered the regiment to save itself, as it was cut off. This was done by making a detour of some three miles through cane fields before it could rejoin the command.
The Sixth Battery lost one gun, dismounted and carried a short distance to the rear for repairs, where it had to be left, because sudden orders to retreat were given before it could be mounted to bring away.
Total casualties to Massachusetts troops in this action were:
Thirtieth Infantry—Eight killed; thirty-seven wounded; one missing.
Forty-Eighth Infantry—Three killed; seven wounded; twenty-three missing.
Forty-Ninth Infantry—One killed; twenty wounded; one missing.
Sixth Battery—One wounded.
Other regiments in the two brigades and Colonel Morgan’s detachment lost in about the same ratio as above, because the enemy must have captured at least two hundred prisoners, probably more, and men in Company K saw at Donaldsonville, laid out for burial, about forty Federal soldiers, picked up on the field by a flag-of-truce party. Most of these men were shot in the head.
July 14th and 15th baggage and teams were unloaded from the steamer. On the sixteenth two hundred and thirteen feet of bridge was thrown across Bayou La-Fourche, under the direction of Sergeant Austin Hawes. The company remained on guard until July 20th, when they parted from their pontoons, relieved from further engineer duty by Captain John J. Smith, with one company First Louisiana (colored) Engineers.
Camp was struck July 21st, when the company proceeded to New Orleans upon the steamer Sallie List and reported to the regiment at Algiers late in the afternoon. Department Special Orders No. 181, issued July 25th, formally relieved Company K from detached duty in the engineer service.
During this tour of active field service sick men of Company K were left in hospitals at Berwick, Brashear City, New Orleans, and many men were sent to Gentilly Bayou regimental hospital. Deaths from sickness were as follows:
March 31st—Private Albert N. Bliss, fever, at Marine Hospital, New Orleans.
April 26th—Private Charles L. Atwood, fever, at Brashear City Hospital.
May 1st—Private Charles B. Bacon, fever, at Brashear City Hospital.
May 3d—Corporal George H. Shepard, congestion of bowels, at Berwick City Hospital.
May 24th—Private Samuel A. Knight, ——, at Baton Rouge Hospital.
May 28th—Private Elias H. Cutler, fever, at Brashear City Hospital.
July 4th—Private George H. Allen, dysentery, at New Orleans Hospital.
July 5th—Private William Stone, typhoid fever, in camp at Port Hudson.
Major-General Banks having decided to send the regiment home in a few days, July 29th was devoted to cleaning guns and equipments, and turning over material to the regimental quartermaster. Orders came on the thirtieth to embark August 1st on the steamer Continental for New York, thence proceed to Readville, Massachusetts, and report to the United States mustering officer in Boston. The thirtieth and thirty-first July were busy days for the quartermaster, who turned over to proper Department officers arms, ammunition, equipments, camp and garrison equipage, unissued clothing, transportation and quartermaster stores, surplus medical and hospital stores. Twenty-five muskets and five hundred rounds of ammunition for the guard was retained.
All detached service men and convalescent sick men able to travel were ordered, by Department orders, July 25th, to join the regiment. Surgeon Hitchcock and Lieutenant Proctor reported back to the regiment. Major Stiles and Lieutenant Duncan, Company F, were relieved from court-martial duty July 30th. The detachments from Companies A and F reported July 25th from picket duty at Bayou St. John and Lakeport, relieved by Company H, Twenty-Sixth Massachusetts Volunteers. The sick in regimental hospital not able to travel were removed to New Orleans and distributed among the general hospitals.
The reveille was sounded at three A.M. August 1st, and every man was busy putting his personal effects in shape until the time arrived to eat his last breakfast in Louisiana. At eight o’clock the embarkation commenced. The Continental lay alongside the levee, near the warehouse, so no difficulty was experienced in placing aboard what little baggage was to be transported and the sick men supposed to be able to undergo the voyage. After all had got aboard, the Continental steamed up to New Orleans for Brigadier-General Cuvier Grover and his staff officers, Brigadier-General Paine, and a number of officers going North on leave of absence.
An attempt was made by General Grover to have his horses and those of his staff sent North upon the steamer. The only place where they could be accommodated was below the upper deck, where all available space was already taken up by the men, crowded well together, while space in immediate vicinity of the main hatch had been fitted up to accommodate the sick, as it was handy to have communication with the cabin; yet General Grover insisted that his horses should be taken on board. No amount of expostulation would change his determination. Captain Cogswell, Company F, swore that if they did come on board not one would be alive after one day at sea. His men below deck, packed like sheep in a railroad car, would have made short work with the animals before they would suffer the nuisance to remain. By a united remonstrance to General Banks, from surgeons and officers of the regiment, a Board of Survey was ordered and soon decided the matter. The horses did not get on board. General Grover’s conduct in this affair was not humane.
While tied up at the levee until a decision was reached on this horse business, Sergeant Vialle, who was ashore on some errand, saw a drunken cavalry-man fall from his horse, and in a kind manner assisted him. The fellow was on a troublesome drunk, and turned on Vialle, accusing him of stealing his property. This was all that was wanted to set the devil at work in a patrol-guard from the Ninth Connecticut, who had a guard-station near the spot. They arrested Vialle and conducted him to this station, with an intention to hold him until after his regiment left. Word reached the boys that one of the regiment had been seized by the Ninth Connecticut, and on shore a drove of them rushed and went direct to the guard-station and demanded his release. This was refused, with a threat to fire into the crowd if they did not go away; but the boys held their ground, coming in contact several times for a scuffle with men on the patrol, who used their bayonets once or twice. While in the act of tearing up paving stones from the street to hurl at the guard, for the Forty-Second men were now thoroughly aroused, Lieutenant-Colonel Stedman, in a carriage, drove between the two bodies of men and put a stop to it. The patrol-guard set Vialle free by a back-door entrance of their quarters, when they saw what threatened them.
Hawsers were finally cast off, and the Continental headed down river bound for South West Pass. No cheers were given as the steamer got under way; all hands felt too happy now they were bound home to care a picayune for Louisiana. The following officers and men were left in Louisiana sick or on detached service:
Captain George P. Davis, Company K, on provost-marshal duty.
Lieutenant Augustus L. Gould, Company H, acting-quartermaster of a colored engineer detachment, to render his final accounts.
Private William H. Gilman, Company C, as hospital-steward in General Ullman’s brigade colored troops.
Private Everett A. Denny, Company E, on duty at division headquarters. He came North by way of the river, in charge of a sick officer.
Private John Nolan, Company B, sick in hospital with chronic diarrhœa. Died in New Orleans.
Private Lewis Buffum, Company B, on detached service as locomotive engineer.
Private Jonathan Brown, Company C, in hospital with both ankles broke. Came North by way of the river.
Private Charles McLaughlin, Company H, sick in hospital with dysentery.
Sergeant Chauncy B. Sawyer, Company I, was sent to St. James Hospital July 31st, sick with typhoid fever. He was sent to New York, August 17th, on the Cahawba.
Private Thomas P. Contillon, Company I, sick in hospital.
Private Thomas F. Igo, Company I, sick in hospital.
Private Amos B. Howard, Company G, sick in hospital with a fever.
Private Franklin Hall, Company E, sick in hospital.
After remaining all night at South West Pass, for a high tide to cross the bar, early on the morning of August 2d the Continental put to sea. Fine weather the entire trip, with scarcely a cloud to be seen in the sky and a sea almost as smooth as glass, was what kind fortune favored the Forty-Second this time. In spite of all this, Lieutenant Powers, Company F, was again very sea-sick. He lay day and night upon the deck, close by the cabin’s side, covered by his blanket, not wishing any nourishment, and took very little of what was forced on him, the picture of misery. Not another man on board suffered much from sea-sickness; a slight nausea for one day.
Mounting a guard every day was the only duty done on board ship. The men were allowed to enjoy themselves in any proper manner without restraint. Many of them slept on deck at night, instead of in the close, crowded deck below. The food furnished was plain, though not so good as when on land, while the drinking water was bad. Without storage capacity for enough fresh water to last the trip for the number of men on board, condensed sea-water had to be used. When drank fresh from the condenser it was not palatable, but if left to stand ten to twelve hours was not bad to the taste, and answered for drinking purposes. The difficulty was to get enough supply ahead to let it stand these hours, consequently most men had to drink it warm or get none at all. Music was freely given by the regimental band during the trip, and enjoyed for the want of better.
Details on board ship were: Lieutenant White in charge of receiving and delivering rations and of men detailed to assist the cook. Lieutenant Tinkham had charge of giving out water.
The strength of the regiment on board was—twenty-two officers and four hundred and six men for duty; three officers and one hundred and thirty-three men sick, with two hundred and seventy-two men paroled prisoners of war.
During seven nights the Continental was at sea, gambling was carried on in the cabin by a few young officers on leave of absence. The hours chosen were between ten P.M. and two A.M., when those not interested in the game had retired. Rolls of bills and small piles of gold pieces upon the table was not an unusual sight, while any one who had any curiosity, by lying upon the floor (a custom followed by some, instead of sleeping in their cabin berths), could witness the double dealing done by all the players and the passing to and fro of cards underneath the table between partners. It was interesting to witness, by outsiders, but the players frequently lost their temper as the play went against them, and open accusations of cheating and fraud were frequent, sometimes almost leading to a fight.
In the improvised hospital every attention possible was given sick men by the surgeons. The following deaths occurred however, and the bodies were committed to the deep ocean with usual appropriate ceremonies, viz.:
August 5th—Private Patrick O’Day, Company H, of acute dysentery.
August 6th—Private Charles H. Poole, Company I, of dysentery.
August 6th—Private Andrew J. Fisher, Company F, of heart disease.
In the cases of Poole and Fisher, their comrades did all in their power to give them comfort, but O’Day was shamefully neglected by his company officers and comrades, none of whom took the slightest interest in his case.
On the trip Corporal Andrew P. Olson, Company C, sick with chronic diarrhœa, and Private James A. Knight, Company F, sick with dysentery, rapidly grew worse. By their will power, they lived to reach New York. Corporal Olson died August 9th, Private Knight, August 10th, Private Benoni H. Calvin, Company E, August 12th, and Private Thomas Curran, Company C, August 19th, after they reached home.
Cape Hatteras was passed on the night of the sixth; a pilot was taken on board the next evening, and the Continental arrived in New York Harbor early on the morning of August 8th. The sick were at once transferred to the New England rooms. The steamer Commodore came alongside the Continental in the afternoon, and men and baggage were transferred, to proceed on to Boston, via Providence, Rhode Island.
As the Commodore did not start until seven o’clock in the evening, a day was passed in New York. Most of the men remained quietly on board these steamers, or upon the pier. Permits to pass the guard, stationed at head of the dock, were granted in cases where it was well known the privilege would not be abused. The guard, Lieutenant Martin Burrell, Jr., in command, was under strict instructions, and did their onerous duty well. All precautions taken did not prevent some turbulent spirits from getting beyond the dock and supplying themselves with liquor. No serious cases of intoxication were to be noticed, however, until late in the afternoon, when Private Con. Dougherty, of Company C, was rolling about the dock, insulting everybody in his way, and spoiling for a fight. About the same time the guard passed in from the street Private John Davis and Sergeant Joseph J. Whitney, both of Company H, very drunk and very ugly. Before many minutes elapsed the three men came in contact, and a savage fight took place.
Nobody seemed to have the courage to put a stop to it. As it occurred in the immediate vicinity of the guard, a few officers near by presumed Lieutenant Burrell would at once arrest the men. Unfortunately he was absent from his post, and the sergeant on duty lacked proper knowledge of what he had authority to do. Word was sent to the lieutenant-colonel, who immediately came on the scene, accompanied by Major Stiles. Davis and his companion were ordered to stop their rioting, as Dougherty was badly punished and at this time upon his back. Davis, now full of fight, savagely turned upon Lieutenant-Colonel Stedman, and threatened to serve him in the same way he had Dougherty, at the same time shaking his fist very close to Stedman’s face. For at least a minute the parties looked at each other: the colonel pale in the face, without showing signs of fear, only a little hesitation as to what was the proper thing to do; Davis and Whitney uttering blasphemous and insulting language, with threatening manners. The sergeant-major drew, cocked his pistol, and held it behind his person ready for use, and if either of the men had struck their lieutenant-colonel one blow they would have been shot down. Lieutenant Burrell soon arrived; he ordered a detail of his guard, with fixed bayonets, to arrest the three men—if they resisted, to use their bayonets freely. This diverted the attention of Davis, who at once started for the steamer; the other two men were arrested, but soon after released on promise of their company companions to take care of them.
The principal offender, Private Davis, on reaching the Continental, proceeded to whip the steward of that boat, whom he owed a grudge, and for a time made things hot for everybody. He was not taken in charge at this time, nor during the night, notwithstanding he made himself very offensive until the effects of bad rum were gone. This leniency towards Davis should not have been permitted. He had placed himself in just such positions many times during his service, and should have been taught a lesson. As far back as when in camp at Readville, he was reduced from the rank of corporal on account of his rowdyism.
A heavy fog set in before the steamer was well in Long Island Sound, continuing all night. The men slept in every nook and corner they could obtain a chance to lie down. General quiet prevailed, except such noises as were made by a few drunken men, the aforesaid Davis among the number.
Using due care, with a thorough knowledge of Sound navigation, the pilot supposed Point Judith was passed and steered a course to carry the steamer up Narragansett Bay, when at five o’clock A.M. Sunday, August 9th, the Commodore struck upon the rocks of Point Judith, hard and fast. When she struck it was with sufficient force to throw men partly from their berths. There were two distinct shocks, with a grating sound as if timbers were being crushed and broken. No confusion followed the event; every one was cool and collected as though nothing had happened; when it was definitely ascertained that the steamer was fast upon the rocks, many men went to sleep again.
Upon deck it was impossible to see a hand or any object a few feet distant, the fog was so dense. The water was smooth and at high tide. After ineffectual attempts to back off, boats were lowered to make an examination of the hull near the water line, and a careful inspection made of the hold. While making water freely there was no danger, for the bow was hard and fast upon the rocks, and when the tide receded would leave her hull upon solid bottom; still all was done that could be to stop the leak.
The fog lifted gradually and by seven o’clock A.M. entirely disappeared, when the steamer’s position was seen to be within a stone’s throw of the shore. Adjutant Davis and Quartermaster Burrell went ashore, got conveyance to Kingston, and with some difficulty opened telegraphic communication with Providence, for assistance, also sending word to Boston. Fortunately the commissariat was in condition to keep the men from hunger. With the exception of grumbling on account of disappointment at not being able to eat a good breakfast in Boston, the men took the accident philosophically. The morning passed without any event of importance.
Early in the afternoon steamer City of Newport arrived from Providence, and after attempts were made at high tide to float the Commodore into clear water, without success, numerous heavy hawsers being broken, it was decided to transfer the men to the City of Newport by life-boats from both steamers, each boat-load hauled hand over hand along a hawser prepared for the purpose, instead of using oars. This operation was slow, the boats carrying a small number at a time. As darkness came on the tide receded and obliged the City of Newport to let go her end of the hawser and keep farther off from shore, to prevent grounding; the wind freshened up and caused a heavy swell on the sea and surf on shore. This took place before the transfer of men was complete, and made the rest of the operation tedious and tiresome, as oars had to be used to pull more than a mile.
Officers and men behaved admirably until afternoon, when boats were ready to transfer men; then came the tug of war in an endeavor to fill these boats. Orders and in some cases entreaty had to be used in forcing men into them. Men who would face an enemy without fear were afraid to trust themselves in small boats upon the water. The last boat to reach the City of Newport contained seven or eight men, who were saved from capsizing, in an insane endeavor they made to reach the steamer’s deck together, by the coolness of two men.
When all were on board that could be induced to take to the boats, the City of Newport proceeded to Providence, arriving there at two o’clock Monday morning, August 10th. No time was lost in taking cars, held in readiness, and the train started for Boston without delay, arriving at the Boston and Providence depot at five o’clock. Had the regiment arrived home on Sunday morning, as expected, a rousing reception was ready for it.
The Forty-Second marched to Faneuil Hall, where breakfast was waiting, and the regiment formally welcomed home by prominent citizens. At half-past ten o’clock A.M. the regiment formed line and marched to the parade ground on Boston Common, where the men were dismissed until the twentieth.
August 20th, 1863, one year after the first detachment went into camp as a nucleus to organize the regiment, the men assembled upon the old ground at Readville and were mustered out of the United States service.
The following officers and men remained in the enemy’s hands, prisoners of war: Colonel Burrell, Surgeon Cummings, Captains Sherive, Proctor and Savage, Lieutenants Cowdin, Eddy, Bartlett, S. F. White, Newcomb and Stowell, Corporal H. W. McIntosh, Privates Dennis Dailey, Edwin F. Josselyn, Francis S. Morrill, James O’Shaughnessy, of Company D; Corporal David L. Wentworth and Private Joseph W. D. Parker, of Company G; Private Joseph W. McLaughlin, Company I; and Private Samuel R. Hersey, Company C.
Corporal David L. Wentworth, Company G, Private Samuel R. Hersey, Company C, and Frank Veazie, officers’ cook, with about three hundred men (including Lieutenant Hamilton, Master Hannum, Engineers Plunkett and Stone, of the Harriet Lane), left Camp Groce, December 9th, for Shreveport. Long captivity in restricted quarters left them in such a debilitated condition that a march of any duration completely prostrated them.
The guard, some fifty men, under a good officer, was composed of a clever set of men, who made it easy for the prisoners so far as lay in their power, occasionally helping some poor fellows along by allowing them to ride their horses. Those too ill to walk (Hersey was among them, and towards the journey’s end Wentworth, sick with dysentery) were allowed to ride in the baggage wagons, five in number, an uncomfortable conveyance, none provided with springs, and the roads in poor condition.
Cooking utensils were scarce. Living principally upon “mush,” each mess, when they arrived at camping places, would try all sorts of tricks to secure a “dodger-pan” from some other mess, in spite of orders, “first come, first served.” Some would have to wait until late at night for their turn to come, while others, too tired, would retire to their bed of leaves and go to sleep hungry.
Every morning a start was made soon after daybreak, in order to reach each day’s destination as early as possible. On an average fifteen to twenty miles constituted a day’s march, and was done every day until December 22d, when a halt for several days was made, one mile beyond Tyler, to rest the weary prisoners. While here the officers left at Camp Groce passed them on their way to Camp Ford, without an opportunity being given to converse. Pleasant, cool weather was experienced the first four days, then came cold, windy weather for two days, then rain for one day, clearing off cold and windy and remaining so until the march ended, varied with a few rainy and many cloudy, damp and freezing cold days. It took six days to reach Trinity River, and several days more before arriving at Tyler. The march was resumed on Sunday, December 27th, crossing Sabine River during the morning, and continued each day until about sunset December 30th, when it ended, after an eighteen days’ tramp, and four days’ rest at Tyler, twenty-two days after leaving Camp Groce.
Even the negro drivers, rollicking jolly as they appeared to be, singing and yelling all day long, could not enliven this small regiment of marching sufferers. A favorite song, because it was constantly sang, and in a manner impossible for any white man to imitate, “Rock me Julie, rock me,” rang in the prisoners’ ears long after they had parted company with their ebony-colored singers.
The following account of what occurred while at Shreveport was written by Private Hersey, who claims that there is no exaggeration in his statements—facts alone are stated:
“The last two days of the year 1863 will long be remembered by those members of our regiment who, with some three hundred other Federal prisoners, were wending their toilsome way over the rough, frozen roads leading from Marshall, Texas, to the Louisiana border, in expectation, when arriving there, of being exchanged or paroled. December 29th a fierce ‘Norther’ set in, which was soon accompanied by a severe storm of rain, hail, snow and sleet. Through this terrible storm we plodded on over a dreary region of woodland and prairie, with the icy hurricane piercing our tattered, scanty garments, the pelting rain and sleet drenching us to the skin. At night there was no shelter from the pitiless storm, excepting such as we could find under the wet, dripping branches of the forest trees, or form by twisting their limbs into arches and covering them with moss gathered from the cypress trees. Those who could creep in under the awnings of the army wagons, which the guard had appropriated for their own quarters, were fortunate indeed. Sleep or rest there was none, and for two days and nights our lives dragged on in utter misery.
“A dozen or more of our number were shoeless, and many a footprint stained with the blood of these unfortunate ones could be traced along the snow-covered ground. A score at least had no clothing, except an improvised suit made by tieing their well-worn army blankets around their waists. The hope of release urged many a poor captive forward, who otherwise would have succumbed to the fatigues and hardships of the long marches. Even the Confederate soldiers who guarded us, although much better provided for than ourselves, were scantily and meanly clothed, and suffered severely.
“On the thirtieth of the month, after a day of intense suffering from the severity of the weather and the length and fatigues of the march, we reached the end of our journey, or rather the place where we were to await the arrival of the agents of exchange or parole. We were halted in the depths of a snow-covered wood; there left to ourselves to find such shelter as leafless, dripping branches of the trees afforded. This locality was known as ‘Four Mile Springs.’
“Beyond this wood was a camp of Federal prisoners, who had arrived some time before us, occupying long, frame barracks, crowded so as to afford no shelter for fresh arrivals. The appearance of these prisoners was wretched, and so filthy were their quarters our men declared that some of the vermin, or ‘graybacks’ as they were called, had inscribed upon their backs the words, ‘in for the war.’ These poor fellows had been quartered since their capture, some six months previous, at Camp Ford, Texas, but were marched to their present quarters a few weeks previous to our arrival, to await exchange. They were chiefly Indiana troops.
“The weather was extremely cold for this latitude, resembling more the rude, bleak winter of our Northern clime than the soft, genial atmosphere we had always associated in our minds when thinking of the sunny South, and was said to be the severest ever known in this region.
“For a few days after our arrival we were allowed to roam at will through the woods and vicinity without a guard, for the reason that in daily expectation of proceeding to our lines the men were not likely to attempt any escape. Days passed by in this partial state of freedom, until finally, as the days passed into weeks without any indications of a speedy release, our hopes again began to darken; the men grew restive, and numbers of them were daily missing at roll-call. Every man who attempted escape was recaptured before he got far away and brought back to be placed under guard.
“During our long captivity in Texas our hopes and expectations had so often been raised only to fall again, we got somewhat accustomed to disappointments of this nature, but never since our capture had we been quite so sure of immediate release, or felt the bitterness of ‘hope deferred,’ as we did then. In our prison days at Houston and Camp Groce we had regular quotations of exchange, and the stock was as fluctuating as any in the markets of Wall or State Streets; our days were made cheerful or gloomy according as the stock advanced or fell.
“One morning, at roll-call, we were all summoned to the headquarters of Colonel Théard, commanding the prison-guard, and informed that our Government refused to receive us as paroled prisoners, also refusing to negotiate for our exchange. The colonel made us a neat little speech, in which he expressed his sympathy for us in our deplorable condition, and informed us he had sent a letter to General Kirby Smith, commanding the Confederate Trans-Mississippi Department, asking him to issue clothing, and describing our destitution and sufferings. He also stated he had written to the general, that in case he could not comply with the request for clothing he should feel impelled, from an aversion to seeing so much distress continually before his eyes, to ask to be relieved of his duties as commander of the prison camp. As we never received any clothing from General Smith, or any other quarter, and as the Confederate soldiers were sadly in need of supplies, I was convinced that the Quartermaster Department of the Trans-Mississippi army was in a wofully depleted condition.
“In front of Colonel Théard’s headquarters was an extensive plateau, and here we were ordered to encamp, a guard again placed over us and the dead line traced out. This broad plain was perfectly barren of shrubbery or trees; not even a plot of grass could be found upon it. To make shelter for ourselves we were allowed to go into the woods in squads, under guard, and cut timber and gather leaves. In a few days there sprung into existence, upon this plateau, a village of huts and nondescript structures of the quaintest and most original designs imaginable. Many of these habitations consisted simply of a few bent twigs, arched so as to form a burrow just large enough to creep into head foremost, suitable only to sleep in. Those who from sickness or weakness were unable to erect a domicile depended upon the generosity of their more fortunate comrades, or slept in the open air. Our rations consisted chiefly of coarse corn meal, coarse salt, sugar, and occasionally beef. Having a limited number of cooking utensils, we were often obliged to wait for hours before we could cook our food. Our guards at this camp were a good-hearted set of fellows, and, with a few exceptions, inclined to favor us whenever they could.
“About the middle of January Colonel Théard was relieved of his command, much to our regret, for his treatment of us had been kind and considerate. His heart was evidently not much in sympathy with the rebellion, for we heard a short time after his removal he had left the Confederate army and taken the oath of allegiance to the Federal Government, in New Orleans. He was succeeded by Colonel Harrison, whose administration of affairs while not particularly harsh was lacking in the kindliness which we had always met with under Théard.
“Rumors of the opening of cartels for exchange were as rife here, and received almost as often, as in our former days at Houston and Camp Groce. ‘Exchange stock’ rose and fell with almost its former regularity; our daily advices from Shreveport caused a constantly-fluctuating stock board. Our own Government was universally condemned for its indifference or neglect of our welfare, and many an imprecation was hurled against those who had it in their power to exchange or parole us and would not. We frequently heard of the exchange of other Federal prisoners, and knew that the Confederates captured at Vicksburg and Port Hudson had all, long ago, been released, and therefore it was we complained so bitterly against our fate.
“About the middle of March rumors of General Banks’ advance towards Shreveport with a large army came thick and fast, greatly elating us with a hope they might soon encircle the place of our imprisonment. Suddenly, on the morning of March 26th, the prison camp was broken up and the prisoners, excepting Wentworth, Williams and I, were started on the road towards Texas, destined for Camp Ford.
“Upon our arrival at Four Mile Springs Wentworth and I discovered on the roadside, in the woods and beyond the place where the command had been halted, a log hut, in which we found quarters for the night. The hut was a small, dilapidated structure, like old log cabins of the early settlers, and evidently been standing for many years. We found it occupied by three Confederate soldiers, fitted up as a blacksmith shop for the cavalry forces in the vicinity. The exposed condition of the building rendered it only a partial shelter from the storm, for through chinks in the roof and walls the wind and sleet came in freely, and the smoke from the smouldering fire filled the space within almost to suffocation; however, it was a better refuge than the other prisoners could find. Upon lumps of coal and bits of iron on the rude forge I endeavored to find rest in vain; the wind blew through the log crevices in furious blasts, and that side of my clothing exposed to the hut walls was covered with a thin coating of ice, making sleep or comfort impossible. It was a terrible night for the half-clad, shivering wretches outside, and a most cheerless, uncomfortable one for those inside.
“The next morning broke clear, but cold and windy. A thin surface of sleety snow covered the ground, causing the landscape around us to look anything but Southern. The men were huddled around slowly burning camp fires, waiting patiently for the distribution of their meagre rations and trying to get warmth into their almost frozen limbs.
“The three soldiers occupying the hut were no better off as to accommodations, and not a whit better provided with rations than ourselves. We lived with them during our stay at Four Mile Springs, and became in that time greatly attached to them. Their names were Ramsey, Dick Fickling, and Stanley. Mr. Ramsey, or ‘Pap’ Ramsey, as he was familiarly called, was an old man, about sixty years of age, a splendid specimen of our ideal western backwoodsman. His life had been passed on the wild borders of the Indian Territory and Western Louisiana, knowing little of life in cities and towns. He had never strayed beyond his native prairies and forests until the Southern Confederacy, in its distress for every able-bodied man, brought him forth from his peaceful cabin, compelled to enter its service. He was conscripted some few months previous to our arrival, but being too old for the routine duties of a soldier’s life was detailed to serve as blacksmith for the regiment in which he was placed. A tall, broad-shouldered, well-built man, with gray hair and beard, and an eye as bright and keen as any young person; he was simple-hearted, unskilled in the ways and observances of the world, but with a vast experience of the rough, free, adventurous life of a pioneer. Stanley, his assistant, was a young man, about twenty-five years old, large-hearted, good-natured, and always ready for sport, but with a natural aversion to work. His comrades gave him the name of ’Fox,’ on account of the cunning and shrewdness he displayed in stealing away from camp to visit his home, sixteen miles away, on every possible occasion. He seldom applied for a furlough, deeming such sort of discipline, as he said, entirely unnecessary and too much like slavery. When called to account by his officers for his absence from his regiment, he generally appeased their wrath by presenting them with a fine turkey or shote. A conscript, he managed to evade camp duty by getting detailed as assistant-blacksmith, though wherein his assistance was of any value or service to Mr. Ramsey would have been difficult for an observer to tell. The only labor he was ever known to perform was to occasionally wield the sledge, when the other assistant was absent. His ideas in regard to the cause or object of the war were vague and indefinite, but as far as he knew them they were altogether opposed to the Southern Confederacy. He was the owner of one slave, who took charge of his little farm while he was away.
“Anxious to continue our abode with these kind-hearted soldiers, Wentworth and myself called upon Colonel Théard, when the prisoners were again placed under guard, prevailing upon him, after considerable pleading, to allow us a pass, granting the liberty of the camp until further orders; a phrase we construed to mean any distance within five miles of the hut. When Colonel Harrison succeeded Colonel Théard he was disposed to revoke this pass, condescending, after some persuasion, to let the order ‘remain for the present.’ He was a strict disciplinarian, severe and often harsh in his treatment of the prisoners and his own men; it was a surprise to all that we had won such favor.
“Time wore on pleasantly; the weather grew mild and genial, and about the middle of January the short Southern winter was over. Our hut was romantically situated, and since our occupation of it we had closed up the chinks in the sides and patched the roof, so that the rain could no longer gain entrance. The road in front of us wound through a broad tract of beautiful woodland, and stretched on in one direction to Shreveport, in the other to the prison lines. Beyond this forest was a vast waste of swamp land, covered with a prolific growth of cypress and gum trees, and intersected in every direction by dark, coffee-colored bayous, in which the finest species of the ’Buffalo’ fish were found. Along the banks of these streams and scattered over the bottom-lands were clusters of impenetrable thickets, where countless numbers of bright-plumaged birds made their nests, and where the venomous mocassin and deadly scorpion found hiding places. All day long, in the deep recesses of these lonely wilds, the air was resonant with the music of feathery warblers. We caught many of them in traps, which Stanley was expert at making, but remembering our own prison experience we never kept them long ‘in durance.’
“The hut soon became a popular rendezvous for Confederate soldiers passing to and from their camp, and we became acquainted with most every one belonging to the regiment acting as prison-guard. With some we formed friendships that lasted long after the war closed. Political questions were seldom argued, but when they were it was always with good humor on their part at least, and we were invariably treated with courtesy and kindness, often with generosity.
“Life at the hut was by no means monotonous; each day found us enjoying ourselves in a free and easy way. Mr. Ramsey was owner of a fine horse, and valued him highly. The old man gave me permission to ride the animal whenever I felt inclined, leaving the whole care of the horse to me. With Stanley, always ready for a drive, I took many an excursion through the woods and swamps and to the different plantations in the neighborhood; thus became acquainted with about every planter within a radius of five miles from camp. Amongst them was Mr. Elliot, owner of a plantation at Bayou Pierre, with whom I formed a most intimate and pleasant acquaintance. With him and his family I often passed a delightful hour, always entertained as a welcome guest. Mr. Elliot had formerly been in the Confederate army. While with his regiment in Tennessee, just after the battle of Perryville he purchased a furlough for a large amount of money, returning home, and had not again rejoined his command. In order to obtain exemption from conscription he purchased the position of superintendent of a Government planing-mill in Texas, but had not reported at his new field of service. He was a thorough Union man, and a bitter enemy of the Confederacy. His service in the army was compulsory, and although engaged in several battles said he had never fired a gun during the actions except in the direction of the sky. He was, like many others of the South, an owner of slaves, but not an advocate of slavery. Through him I became acquainted with many loyal men, and was surprised to find the Union sentiment so strong. Of the half-dozen or more planters living within four miles of the camp not one was an advocate of secession, but all were anxiously longing for the approach of our army to this portion of the State. Even amongst our prison-guard we found many a secret friend of the Union, who only waited for an opportunity to place themselves in the ranks of its army. The number of such was by no means small, although the great majority were loyal to the ‘Stars and Bars.’
“During the latter part of January I obtained of Colonel Harrison permission for two other prison comrades to live with us at the hut. They were Williams, whom we called ‘Transport,’ and the carpenter of the United States ship Morning Light, who went by the name of ‘Chips.’ Their arrival rendered it necessary for us to enlarge our dwelling. Through the soft persuasiveness of Wentworth, the quartermaster was prevailed upon to grant us a small supply of timber and nails, and in a short time we built a small addition to the hut, in which we erected sleeping bunks for the accommodation of us all.