[Illustration: ALBERT PLUMMER,
Historian.]
[Illustration: MAJ.-GEN. C. C. AUGUR.
Commanding 1st Division 19th Army Corps, April, 1863.]
[Illustration: MAJ.-GEN. N. P. BANKS,
19th Army Corps.]
[Illustration: COL. EBEN F. STONE,
48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1862.]
[Illustration: LIEUT.-COL. JAMES O’BRIEN,
48th Mass. Regt. Inf. Killed at Port Hudson, La., May 27, 1863.]
[Illustration: LIEUT.-COL. EBEN P. STANWOOD,
48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1863.]
[Illustration: DR. Y. G. HURD,
Surgeon 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1862.]
[Illustration: SAMUEL J. SPALDING.
Chaplain 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1862.]
[Illustration: MAJOR GEO. WHEATLAND,
48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1862.]
[Illustration: COL. E. P. CHAPIN,
Com. 1st Brigade, 1st Div. 19th Army Corps, 1863.]
[Illustration: CAPT. MOSES B. MERRILL,
Co. B, 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1863.]
[Illustration: CAPT. WM. PETTENGILL,
Co. C, 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1862.]
[Illustration: CAPT. CHAS. HOWES,
Co. E, 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1863.]
[Illustration: CAPT. E. J. SHERMAN,
Co. F, 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1862.]
[Illustration: CAPT. J SCOTT TODD.
Co. K, 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1863.]
[Illustration: CAPT. R. N. SCHOFF,
Co. G, 48th Mass. Regt. Inf., 1863.]
[Illustration: STATE HOUSE, BATON ROUGE, LA.
Burned in Dec, 1862.]
HISTORY
OF THE
FORTY-EIGHTH REGIMENT
M. V. M.
DURING THE CIVIL WAR
1907.
Press of the
NEW ENGLAND DRUGGIST PUBLISHING COMPANY
145 High Street, BOSTON, MASS.
PREFACE
In preparing this history, I have been ably assisted by Lieut.-Col.
Eben P. Stanwood, Hon. E. J. Sherman and the notes prepared by the
late Wm. H. Bartlett. To these surviving comrades, I extend my warmest
thanks.
ALBERT PLUMMER, Historian.
INTRODUCTORY
I have undertaken to write a history of the Forty-eighth Regiment,
Massachusetts Volunteers, in the Civil War in diary form from the
commencement to the close of the service. Undoubtedly much more might
have been written giving many interesting particulars concerning the
different companies and incidents relating to individual members of
those companies, but I have thought best to write a modest, true and
valuable presentation of the main features of the services rendered by
the regiment to the Government. It is not an easy task to write such a
history as will please everybody. I hope my efforts will be reasonably
and charitably considered by my comrades.
ALBERT PLUMMER, Historian.
FORTY-EIGHTH REGIMENT M. V. M.
Few men in the North previous to April 12, 1861, thought that the men
of the South would be so rash as to precipitate a war between the two
sections, and when on that day the news flashed over the wires that the
Southern fire-eaters had fired upon Fort Sumter, and that the national
ensign had been pulled down, a great wave of horror and indignation
swept over the land. A call for 75,000 men for three months’ service
was issued by President Lincoln on the fifteenth day of April, 1861.
Many persons who considered themselves wise, pronounced the number too
great, and to most people it did seem to be a vast army--three times
greater than the whole regular army previous to that time. But little
actual fighting was done by the regiments furnished under this call,
but subsequently other calls were made for volunteers to serve for
three years or during the war.
On August 4, 1862, President Lincoln issued orders for a draft of
300,000 men for nine months’ service, but leave was granted to Governor
Andrew to fill the quota of Massachusetts by volunteers, and it
was in answer to this call that the men who later became the 48th
Massachusetts Infantry were recruited. It was the intention (and great
efforts were made by the gentlemen interested in its formation) to
make this an exclusively Essex County regiment, but the exigencies of
the war made it imperative that all regiments in process of formation
should be immediately sent to the front, and for this reason several
partially formed regiments were consolidated, and sent forward.
The regiments sent from Massachusetts under this call were designated
as follows:--
3d, Col. Silas Richmond; 4th, Col. Henry Walker; 5th, Col. George H.
Pierson; 6th, Col. Albert Follansbee; 8th, Col. Frederick J. Coffin;
42d, Col. Isaac S. Burrill; 43d, Col. Charles S. Holbrook; 44th,
Col. Francis L. Lee; 45th, Col. Charles R. Codman; 46th, Col. George
Bowler; 47th, Col. Lucius B. Marsh; 48th, Col. Eben F. Stone; 49th,
Col. William F. Bartlett; 50th, Col. Carlos P. Messer; 51st, Col.
Augustus B. R. Sprague; 52d, Col. Halbert S. Greenleaf; 53d, Col. John
W. Kimball, and the 11th Battery, Capt. Edward J. Jones, which was the
only battery of nine months’ men raised in the Commonwealth.
Of these regiments, the 3d, 5th, 6th, 8th, 43d, 44th, 45th, 46th, and
51st, served their time on the Eastern coast; the 4th, 42d, 47th,
48th, 49th, 50th, 52d, and 53d served in the Army of the Gulf, on the
Mississippi River; the 11th Battery served in the Army of the Potomac.
During the month of September, 1862, the men being recruited for the
Essex County regiment began to rendezvous in “Camp Lander,” Wenham,
Mass., and the Hon. Eben F. Stone, a prominent lawyer of Newburyport,
was appointed “Commandant of Camp.”
Barracks had been provided for two or more regiments, wells sunk, and
every arrangement made for the comfort of the men, several partially
formed companies of which came into camp during the month and were
mustered into the U. S. service as soon as they were recruited to a
minimum number.
Not much of special importance occurred to disturb the regular routine
of camp life while here, the days being spent in actively drilling and
becoming acquainted with the duties of a soldier; but occasionally
some little break would be made in the monotony of camp life; it
seems that there had grown up a feeling of jealousy among some of
the officers of another regiment in the camp, because Mr. Stone
had been appointed Commandant of Camp from civil life, and without
previous military training, when there were other officers in camp
who had had such training in the Volunteer Militia, and on October
24 the dissatisfaction culminated in an assault upon Capt. Stone’s
headquarters with bricks and other missiles, and for a time matters
assumed rather a warlike aspect, but finally settled down with but very
little bloodshed.
The quota of Massachusetts under this call was 19,090 men. The great
numbers already in the field and the fact that the last previous call
of July 2, for 300,000 men for three years’ service had not been
entirely filled, made it more difficult to secure these additional men
but the officers worked with a will, and soon no doubt was felt that
the object would be attained, and the call promptly answered. The first
company to secure the requisite number of recruits was the company
from Newburyport under command of Capt. Stone, which was mustered
September 16, and from that time forward companies were mustered as
they obtained the requisite number of men, until about November 1,
when there were about 750 men in camp, distributed in eight different
companies.
On the day previous to Thanksgiving Day the several companies were
furloughed to go home to spend Thanksgiving, to report again in camp
Saturday morning; only one company reported in accordance with orders,
and as no other company put in an appearance, the Captain gave his men
leave to return home, but to report again Monday morning, which they
did, as did the other companies, only to feel a little chagrined to
find that Adjt. Gen. Schouler, with a part of his staff, had visited
the camp on Sunday, and was very angry to find the camp deserted by all
but one Lieutenant and just enough men for camp guard. His remarks were
reported to have been very forcible, succinct and pithy, the air was
said to have been lurid.
He said, “By God! I’ll send this regiment South or to Hell!” and the
men concluded that they hadn’t much preference as to the two locations.
As a compromise between, the regiment was ordered to move to Camp
Meigs, at Readville, Mass., forthwith; but expecting to be sent to one
of the aforementioned places later on.
December 4, the regiment broke camp at Wenham and left for Camp Meigs.
While marching through Boston at the intersection of Washington
and Boylston Streets, the two companies from Lawrence, commanded
respectively by Capts. Colby and Rollins left, being transferred to
the 4th Regiment which had been recruiting at Lakeville, Mass., thus
filling up that regiment, and the unorganized 55th Irish Regiment,
which had been also recruiting at Lakeville was brought to Readville,
and merged with the remaining six companies from Wenham, which
completed the organization of this regiment, thus disposing of all
expectation of an Essex County regiment.
All the officers of the Wenham companies petitioned the Governor to
allow the Lawrence companies to remain as formerly connected. They were
a fine body of men and officers, and, being in the same camp together
so long, a strong attachment had sprung up between the different
companies; but the request was denied. The men and officers in the
Irish regiment were also much dissatisfied, and there were a great many
desertions, which (it was said) were encouraged by their officers;
a large number of the latter resigned and others were summarily
discharged. They had volunteered with the understanding that they were
to form an Irish regiment, and they were very indignant that that
arrangement was not carried out.
The accession of these new men having given the regiment the necessary
number of men, on December 6 an election for field officers was held,
and the regiment became the 48th Regiment of Massachusetts Infantry.
Capt. Eben F. Stone of Newburyport was elected Colonel, Mr. James
O’Brien of Charlestown was elected Lieutenant-Colonel, and Capt. George
Wheatland of Salem was elected Major.
The companies were designated as follows:--Co. A, from Newburyport and
vicinity; Co. B, from West Newbury and vicinity; Co. C, from Salisbury
and vicinity; Co. D, from Newbury and vicinity; Co. E, from Salem and
vicinity; Co. F, at large; Co. G, at large; Co. H, from Lowell; Co. I,
at large; Co. K, at large.
The line officers were as follows:--Co. A, Capt. Woodward, Lieuts.
Lawrie and Morrison; Co. B, Capt. Stanwood, Lieuts. Rollins and
Merrill; Co. C, Capt. Pettengill, Lieuts. Currier and Schoff; Co. D,
Capt. Noyes, Lieuts. Lord and Wilson; Co. E, Capt. Howes, Lieuts.
Sanders and Lee; Co. F, Capt. Sherman, Lieuts. Noyes and Burnett;
Co. G, Captain (vacant), Lieuts. Rudderham and O’Brien; Co. H, Capt.
Rogers, Lieuts. Frawley and Maginness; Co. I, Capt. McGuire, Lieuts.
Smith and Reade; Co. K, Capt. Todd, Lieuts. Clark and Bellen.
The position of the companies in line of battle:--
Right|
+-----------------------+
|Capt. Stanwood B 1|
+-----------------------+
| „ Howes E 2|
+-----------------------+
| „ Rogers H 3|
+-----------------------+
| „ Todd K 4|
+-----------------------+
| „ Noyes D 5|
+-----------------------+
| „ Sherman F 6|
+-----------------------+
|Lt. Smith I 7|
+-----------------------+
| G 8|
+-----------------------+
|Capt. Woodward A 9|
+-----------------------+
| „ Pettengill C 10|
+-----------------------+
| Left|
December 22. Capt. McGuire of Co. I was discharged and on the 26th
Lieut. Smith was promoted to fill the vacancy. This evening Edward
Galligher of Co. H was shot dead by Lieut. Lord of Co. D, Provost
Marshal, while drunk and disorderly, resisting arrest and assaulting
the Marshal.
The regiment remained in Camp Meigs until December 27 actively drilling
and the raw recruits getting whipped into shape for active duty in the
field, but this morning orders were received to break camp and leave
for New York and the South (or the other place previously alluded
to) and the regiment left at an hour’s notice, proceeding by rail to
Groton, Conn., where they went on board the Sound steamer for New
York arriving there at an early hour in the morning of the 28th and
going at once on board the “Constellation,” an old sailing vessel,
just arrived from Europe with a load of immigrants. It had not been
properly cleansed and was very foul and dirty; but it is a soldier’s
duty to bear with all sorts of inconveniences, and we soon learned to
accept them without an undue amount of grumbling. There was no chance
for a fire on board except in the first cabin, consequently the line
officers, who occupied the second cabin, and the enlisted men who were
quartered between decks, suffered considerably with the cold, but we
were consoled with the thought that if we were destined for either
of the places threatened by Gen. Schouler we should not be likely to
grumble on account of cold weather.
Friday, January 2, got under way at 12.30 P. M., being towed out by tug
“Rattler,” which cast off and left us at 4.15, taking ashore a large
mail for friends left at home.
January 8 we arrived off the mouth of Chesapeake Bay with little of
special importance transpiring. Pilot came on board at 9.30 A. M. and
we passed up the bay where we found many of the fleet composing the
“Banks Expedition” of which we now find the 48th is a part, and came
to anchor just below and near Fortress Monroe where we remained till
January 15, when under sailing orders the tug hitched on again and we
sailed away South at 2.30 P. M. in a gale of wind. The voyage South
lasted until the 30th day of January during which the deadly ship fever
(the surgeons call it “Purpura”) broke out on board and several of our
men died from its effects and received a soldier’s burial at sea.
It is a sad sight to see the poor fellows launched into the deep dark
waves, while their comrades stand nigh with anxious tearful faces.
The fever increasing rapidly the men all came upon deck, the hatches
battened down and the ship thoroughly fumigated.
The following letter is self-explanatory:
On board Ship “Constellation,”
in Gulf of Mexico,
January 24, 1863.
My dear Madam:--I have sad news to communicate. Your son is no more
on this earth. He was taken ill last Wednesday, and, in less than
twenty-four hours, he was a corpse. He died at four o’clock P. M.,
on Thursday and was buried at sunset in the Gulf Stream off coast of
Florida, Latitude 25, Longitude 20 west.
Let me assure you that everything possible was done for him, by his
comrades and our good surgeon, Dr. Hurd, to save him from ravages
of ship fever, but all our efforts were in vain. The light of his
youthful countenance has gone out forever.
What can I say to you, his good mother, who gave her only son an
offering upon the altar of our common country?
A fond mother will desire the sad details, his last acts and words. An
hour before he died, I told him the doctor feared he could not live.
He seemed to be fully aware of his condition, and, turning his head
toward me he said, “Tell mother I should rather have died fighting the
battles of my country, but God’s will be done.” Very soon he drew his
blanket over him and calmly sank into the arms of death, like one “who
wraps the drapery of his couch about him and lies down to pleasant
dreams.”
His last thoughts were of his mother and he died lamenting only his
inability to do more for his country.
He was a mere boy in age and looks but he had the judgment of an older
patriot.
There are many creeds which will tell you that your son has not gone
to happiness or Heaven. He lived an honest life, but died according to
those creeds “unconverted.”
“The upright, honest-hearted man,
Who strives to do the best he can,
Need never fear the Church’s ban
Or Hell’s damnation;
For God will need no special plan,
For His salvation.”
He died full of faith and hope, with a belief that he had done his
whole duty to his country and his God. And I believe, in the language
of the Mayor of our goodly city, “He was a soldier in a good cause,
and at the command of the Supreme Governor, he has laid down his arms
and gone up higher. Watchworn and weary, he has laid his armor off and
rests in Heaven. The everlasting gates of fame have lifted up their
heads and he has passed through to imperishable renown. The portals of
history have been thrown wide open and he has marched in a hero.”
Think then of your darling boy, not as dead but as having gone over to
the majority in Heaven.
Permit me, my dear madam, to mingle my tears in sympathy with yours in
this hour of your great affliction. May God bless and comfort you, I
am,
Sincerely your friend,
EDGAR J. SHERMAN, Captain.
Captain Sherman, after returning home, was met by the clergyman who
officiated at the funeral of the young soldier, who said, “Captain, I
read your letter at the funeral, and I do not think there was a dry
eye in the audience.” “But,” said the Captain, “did you not regard the
poetry as heretical?” “You were fully justified,” said the clergyman,
“in writing anything you could to comfort that poor heart-broken
mother. But who knows that he died unconverted? Were not his last
words, ‘God’s will be done?’”
In passing Cape Hatteras we experienced a fierce storm, but the old
ship floundered safely along through the boiling sea with but little
serious damage. The violent motion of the ship and the corresponding
and sympathetic motion of our stomachs reminded us forcibly of the old
bass aria in Haydn’s Oratorio of “The Creation,” “Rolling in foaming
billows uplifted roars the boisterous sea.” Except these and a few
minor incidents the voyage was uneventful.
The vacancy in Captain’s office in Co. G was filled on January 15 by
appointment of Lieut. Schoff to that company as Captain.
On looking at the map of the United States we observe that the State of
Louisiana lies on both sides of the Mississippi River and that the
States of Arkansas and Mississippi lay on the right and left banks of
that great stream, 500 miles of whose lower course was thus controlled
during the first year of the Civil War by those three States unitedly
inhabited by hardly as many white people as the city of New York.
[Illustration: INSIDE REBEL BREASTWORKS,
Port Hudson, La., After Surrender, July 8, 1863.]
[Illustration: CEMETERY BATTERY,
Baton Rouge, La., Looking Toward Port Hudson.]
If we observe then the course drained by that river and its
tributaries, commencing with Missouri on its right bank and Kentucky
on its left bank, we find it to consist of eight or nine large States,
large portions of three or four others, and several large Territories,
in all a country as large as Europe, as fine as any under the sun,
holding at the commencement of the war more people than all the
revolted States and destined to become one of the most populous and
powerful regions on the face of the globe.
If any at the opening of the war supposed that those powerful States,
comprising a great and energetic population, would ever consent to a
peace that would put the lower course of that great national outlet to
the sea in the hands of a foreign power far weaker than themselves,
they were blind indeed to the lessons of history.
The people of Kentucky alone before they were constituted a State gave
formal notice to the Federal Government that if the United States did
not conquer Louisiana they would conquer it themselves. In the words
of a distinguished citizen of that martial State: “The mouths of the
Mississippi belong by the gift of God to the inhabitants of its great
valley. Nothing but irresistible force can disinherit them.”
Akin to this was the feeling of the men of the Northwest at the
outbreak of the Civil War. With them the opening of the Mississippi was
an absorbing passion and they entered on that enterprise with alacrity
and with a grim determination not to cease from their efforts until
that great river which forms a part of the life and very existence of
the West should be repossessed, and the insulted ensign of the Republic
planted on the last battlements of the Rebellion.
By the Summer of 1863, after many a bloody fight on the river and on
the land, they had reached Vicksburg, and Grant had drawn his lines of
investment around that stronghold. Meantime their brethren of the East
had ascended the river from its mouth and had taken possession of all
the rebel defences on the lower Mississippi. Subsequently Farragut,
being away on the Gulf coast, the rebels seized the opportunity to
fortify and garrison Port Hudson, in Louisiana. There remained then at
the opening of the Summer of ’63 these two strongholds, Vicksburg and
Port Hudson, the retention of which was necessary to the Confederates
if they would maintain their hold on the Mississippi.
Both parties to the struggle realized the importance of these
positions. Jefferson Davis, while on a visit to Mississippi to inspect
the defences of Vicksburg, spoke as follows in a speech at Jackson
before the Mississippi Legislature: “Vicksburg and Port Hudson are
the real points of attack. Every effort will be made to capture these
places with the object of forcing the navigation of the Mississippi
and severing the eastern from the western portion of the Confederacy.
Let all then who have at heart the welfare and safety of the country
go without delay to Vicksburg and Port Hudson. Let them go for thirty
or sixty or ninety days. Let them assist in preserving the Mississippi
River, that great artery of our country, and thus conduce more than in
any other way to the perpetuation of the Confederacy and the success of
our cause.”
Most people probably have a tolerably clear idea of Grant’s campaign
against Vicksburg. As the history of the 48th Regiment is inseparably
connected with the siege and capture of Port Hudson, it is proper that
at this point some description of that place and its defences should be
given.
Port Hudson is situated on a bend on the eastern side of the
Mississippi about twenty-two miles north of Baton Rouge, and 147 miles
from New Orleans. It is 300 miles below Vicksburg. The bluff rising
abruptly some forty feet above the surface of the river was covered
with fortifications for a space of nearly four miles, constructed
upon the most scientific principles of military art and armed with
the heaviest and most approved guns which England could furnish the
Confederates.
The river as it approaches the bend suddenly narrows and the current
striking the west bank is thrown across with great velocity and carries
the channel almost directly under the precipitous cliffs. Any vessel
attempting the passage would be compelled to run the gauntlet of a
plunging fire from the batteries which commanded the river for several
miles above and below. Thus it will be seen that on the river side the
position was so fortified by nature and art that it was practically
impregnable.
On the land side it was scarcely less so. There it was protected by a
high parapet extending some seven or eight miles in a semi-circle from
river to river, in front of which was a ditch from ten to twelve feet
wide and six feet deep. Along nearly the whole line in front of this
ditch and extending from half a mile to a mile from it was formerly a
heavy growth of timber. This had all been cut down; so that in every
direction the fallen tops of trees interlaced, trunks blocked up every
passage and brambles were growing over the whole. Moreover, the space
where this forest had stood was cut up in every direction by gullies
and ravines, all containing more or less fallen timber. Under favorable
circumstances, that is with a good supply of ammunition and provisions,
and a garrison of 20,000 men, Port Hudson could have resisted any force
that could have been brought against it.
The task of taking this stronghold fell to the lot of the Army of the
Gulf, consisting mainly of the 19th Army Corps, to which the 48th M. V.
M. was attached.
Two o’clock in the morning of Jan. 30, 1863. The old ship
Constellation, bearing the 48th Regiment, is lying off the southwest
pass of the Mississippi River and is throwing up rockets as a signal
for a pilot. Presently a tug comes steaming out from the river and as
daylight is breaking we leave the muddy waters of the gulf behind us,
not, however, without the assistance of a second powerful tug to take
us over the bar, and enter the still muddier waters of the Mississippi.
For some miles the river presents no objects of interest. Low marshy
shores covered with coarse sedges, fit haunts for alligators and other
venomous reptiles--in all about as uninviting a place as can well
be imagined. Towards noon we reach the famous Forts Jackson and St.
Philip, one of which gives us a salute as we pass.
They were occupied at this time by the 26th Massachusetts Regiment
who cheered us lustily as we passed. At 9 o’clock A. M., January 31,
arrived at quarantine where the ship was boarded by the health officer,
who discovered no reason to detain us, although so very recently having
been scourged by the ship fever, and he declared us “all right” and
gave us a clean bill.
The only evidence of the desperate fight of the year before when
Farragut ran the gauntlet of these forts are the remnants of several
rebel gunboats which were destroyed during the fight and driven as
high as possible on the banks of the river, and the Union sloop-of-war
Varuna, which lay on the bottom of this river with only the tops of
her masts out of water. After passing the forts, as we approach New
Orleans the country becomes somewhat more interesting. We pass some
fine plantations with stately mansions, large sugar houses and long
rows of cabins, the habitations of the blacks. Much of the way we
run close to the bank and as we turn bend after bend in the river we
are tantalized by the sight of orange groves laden with the luscious
fruit--so near and yet so far. We see very few white men. Most of
them have doubtless gone into the rebel army. Now and then a planter
standing on the bank gazes at us sullenly as we pass. It seemed evident
that they were not over-pleased to see us. Our only welcome was from
the negroes. Their shouts from the levee, accompanied by laughter and
frantic gesticulations, bespoke their joy. One white man, bolder than
his fellows, shouted the inquiry: “What regiment is that?” and being
informed he imparted the cheerful information that we had come all the
way from Massachusetts to find our graves--a prophecy which proved true
of many a boy on board that ship.
February 1, Sunday, at 3 A. M., we reached New Orleans and anchored
opposite the central part of the city, where we remained during the
next day. Looking at New Orleans at that time, it was hard to realize
that just previous to the opening of the war it had the largest export
trade of any city in the world. Its stores closed, its fine business
blocks deserted, its levee which had once groaned with the burden
of a great commerce empty and desolate, the great metropolis of the
Southwest lying under the guns of our ships of war was a mute but vivid
witness of the folly of rebellion.
Leaving New Orleans on the 3rd at 11.45 A. M. we proceeded up the
river. Above New Orleans the desolation became more marked. War had
written his autograph over the whole face of the country. Crops of
sugar cane which should have yielded thousands of pounds of sugar were
still standing in February, when they should have been gathered months
before. No hope of saving them, for the frost had been at work upon
them. Moreover, the planter’s negroes had left him, his horses had been
stolen, his mules and teams confiscated by the Government. Defiant
amid the general wreck, the planters were said to be bitterly cursing
President Lincoln and praying for the destruction of the Union armies.
The village of Donaldson, the first place of importance above New
Orleans, presented a sorry sight. Its inhabitants had had the bad habit
of firing on our weaker steamers as they passed up and down the river.
Farragut bore the outrage until forbearance ceased to be a virtue, and
then assured the people that if the outrage were again repeated he
would shell the town. It was again committed and Farragut, true to his
word, bombarded the place until only about half of the original town
was left.
Approaching Baton Rouge, 125 miles above New Orleans, on the morning of
the 4th, the first thing that attracted our attention was the ruined
Capitol of the State, grim and ghastly in the morning light. This fine
building was fired when our forces took possession of the town, by whom
will never be known. The rebels charged the Unionists with doing the
deed when they entered the place, and the Unionists as stoutly asserted
that it was the last act of the rebels before leaving. The magnificent
library, fine furniture and works of art were all destroyed. Only
Powers’ statue of Washington, the work of Northern genius, was rescued
from the flames.
Our steamer drew up to the levee at Baton Rouge just as the sweet notes
of the reveille were sounding from camp to camp, bugles echoing bugles,
fifes warbling, drums beating, while here and there from a distant camp
came the rich swell of a full band.
It was with the greatest delight that we disembarked, for we had
already learned what it was to suffer. Confined for six weeks on an old
hulk for which the Government was paying more every week than the ship
was worth, we had not escaped the ravages of disease. The transport on
which we had made the trip from New York had formerly been an emigrant
ship. The seeds of disease were lurking in her timbers. While we were
on the Atlantic a fatal disease--a spotted fever--broke out, and in a
few days several of our boys had fallen victims and were consigned to a
watery grave.
And now once again on terra firma our spirits rose accordingly, and
there was a general feeling of hopefulness and cheer in our ranks as
we marched over the bluff to a plain about two miles from the village,
where we pitched our tents on a spot which was to be our home for
several weeks. Our camping ground had once been occupied by the rebels
for the same purpose. It was a part of the field on which the battle
of the previous year had been fought. The trees in the vicinity still
showed the effects of the shot and fragments of shell, the bones of
animals and soldiers’ graves showed that our troops had gained no
bloodless victory.
Picket duty, guard duty, and the routine of drill was our life for
several weeks. The battlefield with its terrors had thus far kept aloof
but we were brought face to face with a chapter of army life hardly
less sad.
Though Baton Rouge and the country northward is much more healthful
than the fever level below, still there is no place in all that region
where one can lead the exposed life of a soldier with impunity. Many
of our most rugged men yielded to the fatal miasm with which the night
air is laden, and those who had never known a day’s sickness in their
lives went daily at the surgeon’s call to get their dose of quinine.
Death came and mustered out many. Funerals were of daily occurrence
and sometimes it seemed of almost hourly occurrence. The notes of the
dead march, the sad, sad wailing of the fife, the mournful throb of
the muffled drum, the march with downcast eyes and arms reversed, the
parting volley above the grave, and then the return march, quick time,
arms at the right shoulder, fifes warbling like birds in springtime,
and drums beating merrily--these sights and sounds were far too common.
Our sojourn at Baton Rouge was a period of waiting expectancy. We were
learning that to wait is one of the chief duties of a soldier as it is
indeed one of the most irksome.
On February 5 the regiment received a few old “Sibley” tents, a lot
which had been left behind by some departing regiment. They were musty
old things, but some of the boys went into them until our new ones,
which we are entitled to, should arrive. Today the 48th was brigaded
with the 116th New York, the 21st Maine and the 49th Massachusetts,
constituting the 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 19th Army Corps, with
Maj.-Gen. C. C. Augur--a regular army officer--in command of the
Division; Col. E. P. Chapin of the 116th New York (Senior Colonel) in
command of the Brigade, and Maj.-Gen. N. P. Banks in command of the
Department, which was designated as the “Department of the Gulf,” and
on February 6 muskets and ammunition were dealt out and we then for the
first time considered ourselves full-fledged soldiers of “Uncle Sam.”
On March 11 there was a grand review of the troops then at Baton
Rouge. The sight of 20,000 well-drilled troops, infantry, cavalry,
and artillery is no ordinary spectacle. Banks on his coal-black
stallion with his Division and Brigade Commanders made a distinguished
appearance, but the writer recalls that his interest centered chiefly
in Farragut who with the Captains of the fleet had been invited to
witness the parade.
At length on March 12 at 9 P. M. an order came to have twenty-four
hours cooked rations and forty rounds of ammunition and be ready to
march at a moment’s notice. At daybreak the next morning we marched
to the levee at Baton Rouge where we embarked on board a steamer and
sailed slowly up the river. Another regiment accompanied us and two
companies of cavalry. We had started on a reconnaissance. We were
convoyed by the famous gunboat Essex which kept a half a mile ahead of
us and occasionally threw a shell into the woods along the shore. We
disembarked a few miles below Port Hudson under cover of the guns of
the Essex. The road leading to the bluff a distance of a quarter of a
mile from the river, swollen by the spring freshets, was entirely under
water, in some places reaching nearly to the waists of the shorter men.
Wading through this the order of march was formed upon the bluff. The
cavalry went ahead, filling the road and stretching out over the fields
on either side. We approached within a few miles of the Confederate
works and drove in their pickets who left their posts so rapidly as
to leave their cooking utensils lying near the smouldering embers of
the fire where they had cooked their morning meal. Presently we came
upon a company of guerillas who fled to the woods, all but one young
fellow who was captured. At about noon, hot, tired and thirsty, we
halted for a brief rest at a plantation some sixteen miles from Baton
Rouge and I doubt if at any time or place during the great conflict
the confiscation law was more vigorously and thoroughly enforced.
Within a few minutes after our arrival the feathered inhabitants of
the plantation had nothing further to say. Our march from this place
to Baton Rouge was a rapid one. We were within a short distance of a
comparatively large and powerful army of the enemy and it was quite
within the bounds of possibility that a force might be sent out to
fall upon us before we could reach our camp. But the reconnaissance
on the whole was a success. The road was clear of rebels and about
five miles from Baton Rouge where the Montecino Bayou crosses the
road we met the division of General Cuvier Grover fresh from their
camp at Baton Rouge. No one who witnessed those regiments of infantry
and cavalry and the fine batteries accompanying them as they crossed
the pontoon bridge and came springing up the hillside, and with their
gun-barrels glistening in the rays of the setting sun disappeared from
view on the winding road ahead will ever lose the impression there
gained.
We reached our camp at Baton Rouge at about 9 o’clock. Most of us were
footsore and all were weary, and creeping into our tents we were just
settling down to a good night’s rest when down from headquarters came
an order to march at 3 the next morning. So in the early morning we
fell in each heavily laden with knapsack, a full supply of cartridges
and two days’ rations, and started on the road over which we had come
the previous day. The morning was cool, the road in good order, trees
just budding out and festooned with vines and moss. On the whole we
enjoyed the scenery of the Southern forest road and the fresh morning
air. Neither the heavy burdens nor the blistered feet caused by
yesterday’s weary march could wholly repress our enthusiasm, ignorant
as we were of campaign life and eager for a change. But as we got out
into the open country and old Sol rising higher and higher got in his
work upon us our burdens seemed heavier and heavier every moment and
every step was an agony. With rout step and arms at will, on, on we
plodded through clouds of dust. No wonder that some of the boys sank
by the side of the road exhausted, only to come up late in the evening
after the regiment had bivouacked. But the longest day and the weariest
march must have an end and as the shades of night were falling we
halted at a corn field where, after a hasty meal, we bivouacked for the
night. With knapsacks for pillows and the starry heavens for canopy
we lay along the ridges of the corn field and tired Nature’s sweet
restorer, balmy sleep, soon came to our relief.
The writer remembers being hastily awakened after a few hours sleep by
the comrade by his side who said, “Look up over the trees!” and there
we could easily trace the course of the shells from Farragut’s mortar
boats and could hear their dull, explosive thud as they fell inside the
works at Port Hudson. But even that display of fireworks interested
us but for a moment. Soon we were again sleeping soundly unconscious
of the tumult on the river. Shortly after midnight the cry, “fall in”
passed along the lines and slinging knapsacks and shouldering rifles
we passed out of the field past the long, long lines of sleeping men
and were again on the march, this time away from Port Hudson. What
this movement meant we could not comprehend. Had disaster befallen the
fleet or our troops at the front? Were we beginning the retreat? All
was doubt and uncertainty. We stumbled along in the thick darkness
through the dense woods, the silence of which was broken only by an
occasional heavy booming sound from the river. The black darkness of
the night grew heavier and heavier. It was at that darkest hour just
before the dawn when all at once the entire heavens were aglow. An
instant flash of lights as bright as the brightest noonday penetrated
the inmost recesses of the forest and for a moment sharply outlined
every soldier’s form--then came a sound that shook the very earth,
that thundered and reverberated along the entire horizon--then all was
still and dark. “What is it?” was the question on every lip. Not until
morning had fully dawned did we learn that it was the dying cry of the
old warship Mississippi as she sank to her rest beneath the waters of
the river whence she had received her name.
The events of that memorable night form one of the most stirring
chapters of the history of the war. Farragut having learned of our loss
of the steamer Queen of the West between Vicksburg and Port Hudson
determined to run past the batteries at the latter place and recover
command of the river above. So in his stout flagship, the Hartford,
lashed side by side with the Albatross he led the perilous adventure
arriving abreast of the rebel works at about midnight. The rebels were
on the watch and immediately the flames of a vast bonfire in front of
the heaviest batteries lighting up the entire breadth of the river
shot up into the sky and the next instant the earth trembled to the
roar of all the rebel batteries, whereupon our mortar boats below
began firing thirteen-inch shell, and four frigates and five gunboats
moved up into the fight. As our ships came past within pistol shot
of the batteries grape and canister swept their decks with murderous
discharges, the crescent shape of the river enabling them to rake each
vessel as it approached and again as it receded. By 1 o’clock the fight
was virtually over, the Hartford and the Albatross having passed while
most of their consorts had failed and dropped down to their anchorage
below, when a fresh blaze told of a heavy loss. The Mississippi had run
aground directly abreast of the heaviest and most central battery where
her helpless plight was soon discovered and she at once became a target
for them all. Here Capt. Melancthon Smith fought her nearly half an
hour until she was completely riddled, when he ordered her set on fire
and abandoned, and she was burning ashore until she was so lightened
that she floated, when she drifted down the river a blazing ruin,
exploding several miles below when the fire had reached her magazine.
The morning after this memorable night found the 48th guarding a bridge
on a road parallel to the main road from Baton Rouge to Port Hudson. We
had fuel prepared ready in an emergency to burn the bridge as it was
feared the enemy’s cavalry might attempt to make a dash on the flank of
our army. No cavalry appeared, however, and we were soon withdrawn and
went into camp on the banks of the Montecino Bayou. And now the troops
came pouring back from Port Hudson. They had advanced to the outer
works, fired a few shots and retired. Not realizing that the movement
was but a feint intended to deceive the enemy in the hope that they
might withdraw some of their heavy guns from the bluff and thus make
easier the passage of the fleet, Bank’s soldiers showered curses on him
and his tactics. They grew calmer when he issued a proclamation saying
that the object of the expedition had been successfully accomplished.
A week later all the troops were withdrawn to Baton Rouge. Banks
with the larger part of the army left for an expedition in Western
Louisiana and our Division was left to garrison Baton Rouge. We took
up again the daily routine of picket duty, guard duty, and drill,
varied occasionally by a night alarm from the picket line when we
would hastily fall in in the darkness and prepare to meet an enemy
that did not come. Such was our life for two months. Its monotony was
broken on the 2d of May when Grierson with his troopers dusty, haggard
and wayworn, rode into Baton Rouge. The story of their coming and of
their incredible adventures flew like wild fire through the camps and
the excitement was at a high pitch. Nothing like it had been known
before in the war. Seventeen hundred men had ridden through the entire
length of the State of Mississippi from the northeast to the southwest
corner, encountering every conceivable danger and hardship. Thousands
of Confederates had been trying to find and intercept them. But with
matchless skill Grierson had escaped them by circuits, outwitted them
by ruses, and attacked and routed them with far inferior numbers. In
this raid of 600 miles through a country swarming with foes they had
cut two railroads, burned nine bridges, destroyed two locomotives
and nearly 200 cars, broken up three rebel camps, destroyed more
than $4,000,000 worth of Confederate government property, captured
and paroled 1,000 prisoners and brought in with them 1,200 captured
horses. Hundreds of dark-hued patriots accompanied them into Baton
Rouge mounted on mules and horses they had borrowed from their late
masters. Some idea of the pluck and endurance of the Westerners may be
obtained from the fact that during the twenty-eight hours preceding
their arrival at Baton Rouge they had marched more than sixty miles,
had four fights and crossed the Comite River where it was necessary to
swim their horses.
As the month of May wore away boat load after boat load of troops
arrived at Baton Rouge and it soon became evident that the long-looked
for movement against Port Hudson was at hand. The 48th received
marching orders on the 11th and on the 18th was again on the familiar
road to Port Hudson, starting on an expedition from which many in that
column were never to return.
That night we camped sixteen miles from Baton Rouge where we remained
until the 21st, on which day we received our baptism of fire. The
regiment got into line at an early hour and took up line of march for
Port Hudson. We had not moved a mile before the booming of guns ahead
announced that our advance had found the enemy and in all probability
we would soon be engaged.
On arriving at the intersection of the Bayou Sara and Port Hudson roads
near the “Plains Store,” so called, located at that point, the advance
was checked by shots from a rebel battery planted at the “store.” Col.
Dudley’s Brigade was in the advance and received the first shock; some
of his troops skirmished in front while others made a flank movement,
and the rebels were routed after quite a sharp engagement.
Lieut. Tucker of the Massachusetts 49th, acting on Col. Chapin’s staff,
lost a leg by cannon shot. After the battle was supposed to be over,
and the rebels had precipitately retired, the Division (excepting the
48th) made preparations to bivouac in the field at the right and left
of the Bayou Sara road near the “Plains Store.” A section of the 5th U.
S. Regular Battery was sent a short distance up the Port Hudson road
and the 48th Massachusetts was ordered to its support.
[Illustration: CITADEL PORT HUDSON, LA.,
Previous to Assault of June 14, 1863.]
[Illustration: CITADEL PORT HUDSON, LA.,
After Assault of June 14, 1863.]
Col. Stone was informed that the Illinois cavalry were picketing on his
front and right, and the 174th New York infantry on his left, and he
was cautioned very strictly to be careful and not shoot those pickets
by mistake.
The Staff Officer who conducted the 48th to its position, led them
(and also the battery), entirely outside the pickets, so that unknown
to Col. Stone the 48th was in a very exposed position, with neither
front nor flanks protected. Cos. H and K were detached from the right
wing and sent to the rear to guard the baggage train, leaving only
three companies, B, E and D, in that wing; these three companies of
the right wing, under Lieut.-Col. O’Brien, filed into the woods on the
right hand side of the road; and the left wing, Cos. F, G, I, A and C,
with Col. Stone, into the woods on the left-hand side of the road, and
the battery was placed in the road between the two wings which were
entirely separated from each other. Scarcely had the regiment taken
its position when the rebels commenced shelling us and our battery
smartly returned their fire. While this was transpiring a force of
rebel infantry passed around the left flank, and to the rear of the
left wing, and as soon as the artillery fire ceased, fell upon them
while totally unprepared. The suddenness of the attack threw them into
confusion and they gave way and retreated to the rear. The advance of
the rebels was met by a countercharge of the 116th New York and the
rebels were routed.
A portion of the rebel forces crossed the road and came upon the
left flank and rear of the right wing. Lieut.-Col. O’Brien attempted
to change front by throwing back his left, but a portion of the men
became confused, and Col. O’Brien ordered a retreat. This order was
not heard by Capt. Stanwood. Seeing some of his men about to fall back
in disorder he ordered them to stand fast, which they did, and with
a portion of Cos. E and D fell back about 100 yards and took a new
position, rallying on the colors.
General Augur was at the rear and near the Plains Store and witnessed
the occurrence: The battery guns went to the rear before the right wing
left its position. Col. Stone lost both his horses, captured. At night
Co. B went on picket.
The 48th lost two killed, several wounded and prisoners in the fight
today.