PRELIMINARY OPERATIONS IN THE WEST.
GENERAL SHERMAN CAPTURES MERIDIAN, MISS.--DESTRUCTION OF RAILROADS AND
SUPPLIES--GENERAL BANKS ATTEMPTS TO CAPTURE SHREVEPORT, LA.--BATTLE OF
SABINE CROSS-ROADS--TEMPORARY ROUT AND DEFEAT OF THE UNION
FORCES--DEFEAT OF THE CONFEDERATES AT PLEASANT HILL--INCIDENTS OF
HEROISM ON BOTH SIDES--BUILDING OF DAMS IN THE RED RIVER--SUCCESSFUL
PASSAGE OF THE RAPIDS BY GUNBOATS--LOSSES AND INCIDENTS OF THE
EXPEDITION.
The first important movements at the West in 1864 were for the purpose
of securing the Mississippi River, possession of which had been won by
the victories of Farragut at New Orleans and Grant at Vicksburg, and
setting free the large garrisons that were required to hold the
important places on its banks. On the 3d of February Gen. William T.
Sherman set out from Vicksburg with a force of somewhat more than
twenty thousand men, in two columns, commanded respectively by
Generals McPherson and Hurlbut. Their destination was Meridian, over
one hundred miles east of Vicksburg, where the Mobile and Ohio
Railroad is crossed by that from Jackson to Selma. The march was made
in eleven days, without notable incident, except that General Sherman
narrowly escaped capture at Decatur. He had stopped for the night at a
log house, Hurlbut's column had passed on to encamp four miles beyond
the town, and McPherson's had not yet come up. A few straggling wagons
of Hurlbut's train were attacked at the cross-roads by a detachment of
Confederate cavalry, and Sherman ran out of the house to see wagons
and horsemen mingled in a cloud of dust, with pistol bullets flying in
every direction. With the few orderlies and clerks that belonged to
headquarters, he was preparing to barricade a corn-crib where they
could defend themselves, when an infantry regiment was brought back
from Hurlbut's corps and quickly cleared the ground. General Grant had
an equally narrow escape from capture just before he set out on his
Virginia campaign. A special train that was taking him to the front
reached Warrenton Junction just after a detachment of Confederate
cavalry, still in sight, had crossed the track at that point.
[Illustration]
General Leonidas Polk, who was in command at Meridian, marched out at
the approach of Sherman's columns, and retreated into Alabama--perhaps
deceived by the report Sherman had caused to be spread that the
destination of the expedition was Mobile. The National troops entered
the town on the 14th, and at once began a thorough destruction of the
arsenal and storehouses, the machine-shops, the station, and
especially the railroads. Miles of the track were torn up, the ties
burned, and the rails heated and then bent and twisted, or wound
around trees. These were popularly called "Jeff Davis's neckties" and
"Sherman's hairpins." Wherever the columns passed they destroyed the
mills and factories and stations, leaving untouched only the
dwelling-houses. Sherman was determined to disable those railroads so
completely that the Confederates could not use them again, and in this
he succeeded, as he did in everything he undertook personally. But
another enterprise, intended to be carried out at the same time, was
not so fortunate. He sent Gen. W. Sooy Smith with a cavalry force to
destroy Forrest's Confederate cavalry, which was very audacious in its
frequent raids, and liable at any time to dash upon the National
railroad communication in middle Tennessee. Smith had about seven
thousand men, and was to leave Memphis on the 1st of February and go
straight to Meridian, Sherman telling him he would be sure to
encounter Forrest on the way, and how he must manage the fight. But
Smith did not leave Memphis till the 11th, and, instead of defeating
Forrest, allowed Forrest to defeat him and drive him back to Memphis;
so that Sherman waited at Meridian till the 20th, and then returned
with his expedition to Vicksburg, followed by thousands of negroes of
all ages, who could not and would not be turned back, but pressed
close upon the army, in their firm belief that its mission was their
deliverance.
{376} [Illustration: LANDING OF FEDERAL FORCES AT INDIAN BEND, LA.,
APRIL, 1863.]
While the gap that had been made in the Confederacy by the seizure of
the Mississippi was thus widened by destruction of railroads east of
that river, General Banks, in command at New Orleans, attempted to
perform a somewhat similar service west of it. With about fifteen
thousand men he set out in March for Shreveport, at the head of steam
navigation on Red River, to be joined at Alexandria by ten thousand
men under Gen. A. J. Smith (loaned for the occasion by Sherman from
the force at Vicksburg) and by Commodore David D. Porter with a fleet
of gunboats and transports. Smith and Porter arrived promptly at the
rendezvous, captured Fort de Russey below Alexandria, and waited for
Banks. After his arrival, the army moved by roads parallel with the
river, and the gunboats kept even pace with them, though with great
difficulty because of low water. Small bodies of Confederate troops
appeared frequently, but were easily brushed aside by the army, while
the fire from the gunboats destroyed a great many who were foolhardy
enough {377} to attack them with musketry and field guns. So used had
the troops become to this proceeding, that common precautions were
relaxed, and the army jogged along strung out for twenty miles on a
single road, with a small cavalry force in the advance, then the
wagon-trains, and then the infantry.
As they approached Sabine Cross Roads, April 8, they were confronted
by a strong Confederate force commanded by Gen. Richard Taylor, and
suddenly there was a battle, though neither commander intended it.
Taylor, before camping for the night, had sent out troops merely to
drive back the advance guard of the expedition. But the men on both
sides became excited, and the Nationals fought persistently to save
their trains, while Banks tried to bring forward his infantry, but in
vain, because his wagons blocked the road.
When the skirmish line was driven back on the main body, the
Confederates advanced in heavy force, and for a time there was very
fierce fighting. Several of the National batteries were pushed
forward, and fought most gallantly. On the left was Nim's battery,
which was doing terrible execution, when the enemy prepared to make a
charge upon it in great force. General Stone, observing this, ordered
that the battery be withdrawn to save it from capture; but it was
found that this was impossible, because nearly all the horses had been
killed. The gunners continued to fire double charges of grape and
canister into the advancing enemy, and struck down a great many of
them, including Gen. Alfred Mouton, who was leading the charge. But
this did not stop the assailants, who rapidly closed up their ranks
and pushed on, capturing four of the guns, while the other two were
hauled off by hand. Many of the horses of the wagon trains became
frightened, broke loose, and dashed wildly through the lines of the
infantry; and, amid the increasing confusion, the Confederates pressed
closer to follow up their advantage. General Banks, General Franklin,
and others of the commanders, were in the thick of the fray
endeavoring to rally the men and hold them up to the fight. Two horses
were killed under General Franklin, and one member of his staff lost
both feet by a cannon shot. When the battle had been in progress an
hour and a half the line suddenly gave way, and the cavalry and
teamsters rushed back in a disorderly mass, followed closely by the
victorious enemy. Banks's personal efforts to rally them were useless,
and he was borne away by the tide. Three miles in the rear the
Nineteenth Corps was drawn up in line, and here the rout was stayed.
The Confederates attacked this line, but could not break it, and at
nightfall retired. Banks had lost over three thousand men, nineteen
guns, and a large amount of stores.
[Illustration: GENERAL BANKS'S ARMY IN THE ADVANCE ON SHREVEPORT, LA.,
CROSSING CANE RIVER, MARCH 31, 1864.]
A participant in this battle, writing an account of it at the time,
said: "General Banks personally directed the fight. Everything that
man could do he did. Occupying a position so exposed that nearly every
horse ridden by his staff was wounded, and many killed, he constantly
disregarded the entreaties of those around, who begged that he would
retire to some less exposed position. General Stone, his chief of
staff, with his sad, earnest face, that seemed to wear an unusual
expression, was constantly at the front, and by his reckless bravery
did much to encourage the men. And so the fight raged. The enemy were
pushing a temporary advantage. Our army was merely forming into
position to make a sure battle. Then came one of those unaccountable
events that no genius or courage can control. The battle {378} was
progressing vigorously. The musketry firing was loud and continuous,
and having recovered from the danger experienced by Ransom's division,
we felt secure of the position. I was slowly riding along the edge of
a wood, conversing with a friend who had just ridden up about the
events and prospects of the day. We had drawn into the side of the
wood to allow an ammunition-wagon to pass, and although many were
observed going to the rear, some on foot and some on horseback, we
regarded it as an occurrence familiar to every battle, and it
occasioned nothing but a passing remark. Suddenly there was a rush, a
shout, the crashing of trees, the breaking down of rails, the rush and
scamper of men. It was as sudden as though a thunder-bolt had fallen
among us and set the pines on fire. What caused it, or when it
commenced, no one knew. I turned to my companion to inquire the reason
of this extraordinary proceeding, but before he had the chance to
reply, we found ourselves swallowed up, as it were, in a hissing,
seething, bubbling whirlpool of agitated men. We could not avoid the
current; we could not stem it; and if we hoped to live in that mad
company, we must ride with the rest of them. Our line of battle had
given way. General Banks took off his hat and implored his men to
remain; his staff-officers did the same, but it was of no avail. Then
the general drew his sabre and endeavored to rally his men, but they
would not listen. Behind him the rebels were shouting and advancing.
Their musket-balls filled the air with that strange file-rasping sound
that war has made familiar to our fighting men. The teams were
abandoned by the drivers, the traces cut, and the animals ridden off
by the frightened men. Bareheaded riders rode with agony in their
faces, and for at least ten minutes it seemed as if we were going to
destruction together. It was my fortune to see the first battle of
Bull Run, and to be among those who made that celebrated midnight
retreat toward Washington. The retreat of the fourth division was as
much a rout as that of the first Federal army, with the exception that
fewer men were engaged, and our men fought here with a valor that was
not shown on that serious, sad, mock-heroic day in July. We rode
nearly two miles in this madcap way, until, on the edge of a ravine,
which might formerly have been a bayou, we found Emory's division
drawn up in line. Our retreating men fell beyond this line, and Emory
prepared to meet the rebels. They came with a rush, and, as the shades
of night crept over the tree-tops, they encountered our men. Emory
fired three rounds, and the rebels retreated. This ended the fight,
leaving the Federals masters. Night, and the paralyzing effect of the
stampede upon our army, made pursuit impossible. The enemy fell back,
taking with them some of the wagons that were left, and a number of
the guns that were abandoned."
[Illustration: BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL CUVIER GROVER.]
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL NATHANIEL P. BANKS.]
[Illustration: BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL THOMAS KILBY SMITH.]
That night Banks fell back fifteen miles to Pleasant Hill, General
Emory's command burying the dead and caring for the wounded before
following as the rear-guard. Here General Smith's command joined him,
making his full force about fifteen thousand men, and he formed a
strong line of battle and waited to be attacked again. The line was
stretched across the main road, with its left resting on the slight
eminence known as Pleasant Hill. The Confederates spent a large part
of the day in gathering up plunder and slowly advancing with
skirmishing until about four o'clock in the afternoon. At that hour
they advanced their lines in heavy charging columns against the
centre, which fought stubbornly for a while and then fell back slowly
upon the reserves. The Confederates then pressed upon the right wing,
when the reserves were pushed forward and charged them vigorously in
turn, while the centre was rallied and re-formed and advanced so as to
strike them in the flank. What took place at this time is well
described by an eye-witness: "This fighting was terrific--old soldiers
say it never was surpassed for desperation. Notwithstanding the
terrible havoc in their ranks, the enemy pressed fiercely on, slowly
pushing the men of the Nineteenth Corps back, up the hill, but not
breaking their line of battle. A sudden and bold dash of the rebels on
the right gave them possession of Taylor's battery, and forced our
line still further back. Now came the grand _coup de main_. The
Nineteenth, on arriving at the top of the hill, suddenly filed off
over the hill and passed through the lines of General Smith. The
rebels were now in but two lines of battle, the first having been
almost annihilated by General Emory, what remained being forced back
into the second line. But these two lines came on exultant and sure of
victory. The first passed over the knoll, and, all heedless of the
long line of cannons and crouching forms of as brave men as ever trod
Mother Earth, pressed on. The second line appeared on the crest, and
the death-signal was sounded. Words cannot describe the awful effect
of this discharge. Seven thousand rifles, and several batteries of
artillery, each gun loaded to the muzzle with grape and canister, were
fired simultaneously, and the whole centre of the rebel line was
crushed down as a field of ripe wheat through which a tornado had
passed. It is estimated that one thousand men were hurried into
eternity or frightfully mangled by this one discharge. No time was
given them to recover their good order, but General Smith ordered a
charge, and his men dashed rapidly forward, the boys of the Nineteenth
joining in. {379} The rebels fought boldly and desperately back to the
timber, on reaching which, a large portion broke and fled, fully two
thousand throwing aside their arms."
After being thus routed, the Confederates were pursued nearly three
miles. Their losses this day included Gen. Thomas Green, killed. The
Confederate general, E. Kirby Smith, who commanded that department,
says: "Our repulse at Pleasant Hill was so complete, and our command
was so disorganized, that, had Banks followed up his success
vigorously, he would have met but feeble opposition to his advance on
Shreveport.... Assuming command, I was consulting with General Taylor
when some stragglers from the battlefield, where our wounded were
still lying, brought the intelligence that Banks had precipitously
retreated after the battle, converting a victory which he might have
claimed into a defeat."
General Banks, in his official report, gives the reasons why he
retreated to Grand Ecore immediately after his brilliant victory at
Pleasant Hill: "At the close of the engagement the victorious party
found itself without rations and water. To clear the field for the
fight, the train had been sent to the rear upon the single line of
communication through the woods, and could not be brought to the front
during the night. There was water neither for man nor beast, except
such as the now exhausted wells had afforded during the day, for miles
around. Previous to the movement of the army from Natchitoches, orders
had been given to the transport fleet, with a portion of the Sixteenth
Corps, under the command of Gen. Kilby Smith, to move up the river, if
it was found practicable, to some point near Springfield Landing, with
a view of effecting a junction with the army at that point on the
river. The surplus ammunition and supplies were on board these
transports. It was impossible to ascertain whether the fleet had been
able to reach the point designated. The rapidly falling river and the
increased difficulties of navigation made it appear almost certain
that it would not be able to attain the point proposed. A squadron of
cavalry sent down to the river, accompanied by Mr. Young, of the
Engineer Corps, who was thoroughly acquainted with the country,
reported, on the day of the battle, that no tidings of the fleet could
be obtained on the river. These considerations, the absolute
deprivation of water for man or beast, the exhaustion of rations, and
the failure to effect a connection with the fleet on the river, made
it necessary for the army, although victorious in the terrible
struggle through which it had just passed, to retreat to a point where
it would be certain of communicating with the fleet, and where it
would have an opportunity of reorganization."
Another reason for Banks's retreat was that he had been ordered to
return Smith's borrowed troops immediately.
The principal hero of this battle was Gen. Andrew Jackson Smith, whose
prompt arrival with his command Friday night, together with his energy
and good generalship in the battle of the ensuing day, probably saved
Banks's army from a second defeat. With him was the gallant Gen.
Joseph A. Mower, hardly less conspicuous in the fighting. So far as
energy and valor were concerned, however, every officer there rose to
his full duty. General Banks was under fire much of the time, and a
bullet passed through his coat. General Franklin exhibited great skill
in manoeuvring his troops. A staff officer was riding down the line
with an order, when a cannon shot took off his horse's head. Col W. F.
Lynch, at the head of a small detachment pursuing the enemy, captured
three caissons filled with ammunition. As he was attempting to jump
his horse over a ditch, a bullet whistled past his ear, and turning,
he saw that it had been fired by a wounded Confederate soldier in the
ditch, who was just preparing to take a second and more careful shot
at him. The colonel drew his revolver and prevented any further
mischief from that quarter. Col. Lewis Benedict was wounded early in
the fight, but refused to leave the field, and remained with his
brigade until he fell at its head, of a mortal wound. Col. W. T. Shaw,
commanding a brigade, observed preparations for a cavalry charge
intended to break his line, and ordered his men to reserve their fire
until the enemy should be within thirty yards. This order was obeyed,
and as the Confederate horsemen rode up at a gallop, each infantryman
selected his mark, and when the volley was fired, nearly every one of
the four hundred saddles was instantly emptied. It was said that not
more than ten of the cavalrymen escaped. A participant says: "In the
very thickest of the fight, on our left and centre, rode the
patriarchal-looking warrior, Gen. Andrew Jackson Smith, whose troops
received an increased inspiration of heroism from his presence.
Wherever he rode, cheer after cheer greeted him." The same writer
says: "There was something more than solemn grandeur in the scene at
Pleasant Hill, at sunset, on Saturday, April 9th. Standing on a slight
eminence which overlooked the left and centre of our line, I could see
the terrible struggle between our well-disciplined troops and the
enemy. The sun shone directly in the faces of our men, while the wind
blew back the smoke of both the enemy's fire and that of our own
gallant men into our ranks, rendering it almost impossible at times to
distinguish the enemy in the dense clouds of smoke. All of a sudden,
our whole front seemed to gather renewed strength, and they swept the
rebels before them like chaff."
The Forty-ninth Illinois Regiment, led by Major Morgan, charged a
Confederate battery and captured two guns and a hundred prisoners. A
brigade, consisting of the Fifty-eighth and One Hundred and Nineteenth
Illinois, and the Eighty-ninth Indiana, being a part of the force that
struck the Confederates in the flank, retook one of the batteries that
had been lost the day before, and with it four hundred prisoners.
{380} [Illustration: BAILEY'S DAM, RED RIVER.]
It was said that one reason for the recklessness with which the
Confederates threw away their lives in hopeless charges was that they
had found a large quantity of whiskey among the captures of the
previous day. The writer last quoted gives a vivid description of the
appearance of the field after the battle. He says: "On Sunday morning,
at daybreak, I took occasion to visit the scenes of Saturday's bloody
conflict, and a more ghastly spectacle I have not witnessed. Over the
field and upon the Shreveport road were scattered dead horses, broken
muskets, and cartridge-boxes stained with blood, while all around, as
far as the eye could reach, were mingled the inanimate forms of
patriot and traitor, side by side. Here were a great many rebels badly
wounded, unable to move, dying for want of water, and not a drop
within two miles, and no one to get it for them. Their groans and
piteous appeals for 'Water! water! water! were heart-rending, and sent
a shudder to the most stony heart. I saw one sweet face, that of a
young patriot, and upon his icy features there lingered a heavenly
smile, speaking of calmness and resignation. The youth was probably
not more than nineteen, with a full blue eye beaming, even in death,
with meekness. The morning wind lifted his auburn locks from off his
marble face, exposing to view a noble forehead, which was bathed with
the heavy dew of Saturday night. I dismounted for a moment, hoping to
be able to find some trace of the hero's name, but the chivalry had
stripped his body of every article of value. The fatal ball had
pierced his heart. Not twenty feet from this {381} dreary picture lay
prostrate the mutilated body of an old man. His cap lay by the side of
his head, in a pool of blood, while his long flowing gray beard was
dyed with his blood. A shell had fearfully lacerated his right leg,
while his belt was pierced in two places. In front of the long belt of
woods which skirted the open field, and from which the rebels emerged
so boldly, was a deep ditch, and at this point the slaughter among the
rebels was terrific. In many places the enemy's dead were piled up in
groups, intermixed with our dead."
[Illustration: A LOUISIANA SUGAR PLANTATION.]
Banks's loss in the three days, April 7-9, was three thousand nine
hundred and sixty-nine men, of whom about two thousand were prisoners.
The Confederate loss never was reported; but there is reason to
believe that it was even larger than Banks's.
[Illustration: LIEUTENANT-GENERAL RICHARD TAYLOR, C. S. A.]
When the army and the fleet were once more together at Grand Ecore, a
new difficulty arose. There was a rapid in the river about a mile
long, and the fleet in ascending had been taken over it with great
difficulty. The water had now fallen, bringing to view many ragged
rocks, and leaving it impossible to find any channel of sufficient
depth for the boats to descend. They were in imminent danger of being
captured, and it was seriously proposed to abandon or destroy them.
Admiral Porter says: "I saw nothing before me but the destruction of
the best part of the Mississippi squadron." But he adds: "There seemed
to have been an especial Providence looking out for us, in providing a
man equal to the emergency." This man was Lieut.-Col. Joseph Bailey,
engineer of the Nineteenth Corps, who had foreseen the difficulty and
proposed its remedy just before the battle of Pleasant Hill. His
proposition, which was to build a dam or dams and raise the water
sufficiently to float the boats down over the rapid, was ridiculed by
the regular engineers. But it had the sanction of General Banks; and
with three thousand men he set to work. Two regiments of Maine
lumbermen began the felling of trees, while three hundred teams were
set in motion bringing in stone and logs, and quarries were opened,
and flat-boats were hastily constructed to bring material down the
stream. Admiral Porter says: "Every man seemed to be working with a
vigor I have seldom seen equalled, while perhaps not one in fifty
believed in the success of the undertaking." Bailey first constructed
a dam three hundred feet long, reaching from the left bank of the
river straight out into the stream. It was made of the heaviest
timbers he could get, cross-tied, and filled with stone. Four barges
were floated down to the end of it, and then filled with brick and
stone until they sank. From the right bank a similar dam was run out
until it nearly met the barges. At the end of eight days the water had
risen sufficiently to allow the smaller gunboats to go down, and it
was expected that in another day it would be deep enough for all; but
the pressure was too much, and two of the barges were swept away. This
accident threatened to diminish the accumulated water so rapidly that
none of the boats could be saved, when Admiral Porter ordered that one
of the larger vessels, the _Lexington_, be brought down to attempt the
passage. This was done; and he says: "She steered directly for the
opening in the dam, through which the water was rushing so furiously
that it seemed as if nothing but destruction awaited her. Thousands of
beating hearts looked on, anxious for the result. The silence was so
great as the _Lexington_ approached the dam, that a pin might almost
be heard to fall. She entered the gap with a full head of steam on,
pitched down the roaring torrent, made two or three spasmodic rolls,
hung for a moment on the rocks below, was then swept into deep water
by the current, and rounded-to safely into the bank. Thirty thousand
voices rose in one deafening cheer, and universal joy seemed to
pervade the face of every man present. The _Neosho_ followed next; all
her hatches battened down, and every precaution taken against
accident. She did not fare as well as the _Lexington_, her pilot
having become frightened as he approached the abyss, and stopped her
engine when I particularly ordered a full head of steam to be carried;
the result was that for a moment her hull disappeared from sight under
the water. Every one thought she was lost. She rose, however, swept
along over the rocks with the current, and fortunately escaped with
only one hole in her bottom, which was stopped in the course of an
hour." Two more of the boats then passed through safely.
This partial success filled everybody with enthusiasm, and the
soldiers, who had been working like beavers for eight days, some of
them up to their necks in water, set to work with a will to repair the
dams, and in three days had done this, and also constructed a series
of wing dams on {382} the upper falls. The six large vessels then
passed down safely without any serious accident, and a few hours later
the whole fleet was ready to go down the river with the transports
under convoy. Admiral Porter says, in his report: "The highest honors
that the Government can bestow on Colonel Bailey can never repay him
for the service he has rendered the country. He has saved to the Union
a valuable fleet, worth nearly two million dollars, and he has
deprived the enemy of a triumph which would have emboldened them to
carry on this war a year or two longer; for the intended departure of
the army was a fixed fact, and there was nothing left for me to do, in
case that occurred, but to destroy every part of the vessels, so that
the rebels could make nothing of them."
In this expedition the fleet lost two small gunboats and a
quartermaster's boat, which they were convoying with four hundred
troops on board. At Dunn's Bayou, three hundred miles below
Alexandria, a powerful land force, with a series of batteries,
attacked these boats, pierced their boilers with shot, and killed or
wounded many of the soldiers with rifle-balls. The crews fought their
vessels as long as possible, but at length were obliged to give up the
contest, and one of the gunboats was abandoned and burned, while the
other was surrendered because her commander would not set fire to her
when she had so many wounded men on her decks.
E. C. Williams, who was an ensign in the fleet on this expedition,
says, in the course of his "Recollections," read before the Ohio
Commandery of the Loyal Legion:
"Our station for coaling was at Fort Butler, a small earthwork at the
mouth of Bayou Lafourche, occupied by a small garrison from Banks's
army. The garrison had erected a very tall flag-staff, reaching far
above the fog-bank that in that latitude usually shut out all view of
the land in the early fall and spring mornings. From our boat it was a
sight of rare beauty to watch the flag as it was each morning unfurled
over the little fort. Shut out from all view of the surrounding
country by the impenetrable fog as completely as though we had been in
mid-ocean, our attention would be first attracted to the fort by the
shrill notes of the fife and the rattle of the drum as they sounded
the color salute, when, watching the top of the staff, which was
usually visible above the bank of fog that covered the lowlands from
our view, we would see the flag rise to the peak; and as the last
shrill note of the fife was sounded, accompanied by the roll of the
drum, the halyards were cleared, and the flag, full and free, floated
out in the heavens over us, far above the clouds, and the mists, and
the gloom with which we were surrounded. Officers, at their own
request, were repeatedly called from their sleep to see the sight
which I have so faintly portrayed.
"It was part of our duty--at least we made it so--to take on board all
escaped slaves that sought our protection, and turn them over to the
nearest army garrison. Many affecting incidents occurred in connection
with these poor people seeking the freedom vouchsafed them by Uncle
Sam under Lincoln's proclamation. I remember one day when we were in a
part of the river peculiarly infested with marauding bands of the
rebel forces, a hail from shore was reported. Under cover of our guns,
a boat was sent off to see what was wanted, and, returning, reported
that a large number of slaves were near at hand, concealed in the
dense cotton-wood brush. They had been hiding in the woods for several
days, fearing re-capture by some of the roving bands of the enemy, and
a scouting party was even then hard upon them, from which they could
not hope to escape unless we gave them protection by taking them on
board. We at once made for the designated spot, not far distant, and,
running inshore, taking all precaution against a surprise, threw open
a gangway, and, as the slaves showed themselves, ran out a long plank,
and called to them to hurry on board. On they came--a great motley
crowd of them, of both sexes and all ages, from babies in arms to
gray-headed old patriarchs. One of the latter--and who was evidently
the leader of the party--stood at the foot of the plank encouraging
the timid and assisting the weak as they hurried on board, and, when
he had seen all the others safely on, stepped on the plank himself;
and as he reached the guard before coming on board, little heeding our
orders to hurry, he dropped on his knees, and, reverently uncovering
his head, pressed his lips fervently to the cold iron casemates, and
with uplifted eyes, and hands raised to heaven, broke out with, 'Bress
God and Massa Lincum's gunboats! We's free! We's free!'"
There was much speculation as to the real or ulterior object of this
Red River expedition. Some writers spoke of it flippantly as a mere
cotton-stealing enterprise, while others imagined they discovered a
deep design to push our arms as far as possible toward the borders of
Mexico, because a small French army had recently been thrown into that
country, and was supposed to be a menace to our Republic.
[Illustration: MAJOR-GENERAL WILLIAM H. EMORY.]
[Illustration: COLONEL ALBERT L. LEE. (Afterward Brigadier-General.)]
{383}