Port Hudson, La.
Good-bye, Camp Parapet--Going up the river--Stop at
Springfield--Landing--Before the works--Capt. Gifford missing--The
first assault--Stealing honey--Scared by a snake--The second
assault--The "Forlorn Hope"--Captain Gifford comes back--Vicksburg
surrenders--Port Hudson follows suit--The laying down of arms.
_May 21, 1863._
We left Camp Parapet about eight last night and marched to Carrolton,
only a mile or two below camp, where we stopped in the street. Getting
no further orders we, one after another, sat down and finally lay down
on the cobblestone pavements and slept till morning. We then went on
board a steamer, the United States, lying at the dock and found it
crammed full of soldiers. We soon cut loose and started up-stream, and
as we passed Camp Parapet, I wondered if it would ever be our home
again. Lieutenant Pierce is in command, and says Captain B. has left us
to become major for a negro regiment. Some are glad and some are sorry,
but all are indignant at his way of going off. Never as much as said
good-bye. Sneaked off in the night, it is said, and it looks like it.
Maybe he feared we would remind him of his many voluntary promises that
he would never leave Company B as long as a man was left in it.
At noon I asked one of the boat crew if it was possible to buy or beg a
cup of coffee and he took me to the forecastle and gave me a full
dinner. Up the river we went until night and then began to look for a
spot big enough to lie down on.
_May 22, 1863._
_Friday morning._ We awoke from the little sleep we were able to get and
found ourselves at anchor opposite Baton Rouge. The dropping of the
anchor nearly scared the life out of me. I slept under a built up
portion of the deck where the anchor chain lay coiled and when it went
out it made a terrible racket. I wonder none of us were hit by it, for
every space around it was occupied by a sleeping soldier. The city lies
on high ground, which gave us a pretty good view of it. There seems to
be a few fine buildings, but the most are small and not over two or
three stories high. About 9 A. M. we went alongside the steamer Creole
and got some rations, which we needed badly. We soon started, still
going up-stream and felt certain Port Hudson would be our next
stopping-place. We stopped finally and landed in the woods. Not a foot
of cleared land in sight. There are four regiments here with ours. The
Sixth Michigan, Fifteenth New Hampshire and a negro regiment. Boats kept
coming and unloading all the afternoon. The Indiana Mule Battery is here
and it appeared to be a gathering-place for all sorts of troops. It
rained most of the afternoon, but it rained warm water, so we didn't
mind it. The troops all moved forward during the night, leaving only a
guard for the commissary and quartermaster's stores.
_May 23, 1863._
In the morning Isaac Mitchell and I set out to find the 128th. We
followed the road, which was now a quagmire, but were met by an
ambulance with wounded men and a cavalry guard, who told us that only an
armed force could get through and that it was eight miles to where our
brigade was then. We decided to wait. The wounded were put on the Sallie
Robinson, to be taken to some hospital. About midnight the mortar fleet,
which is farther up-stream, began firing and made a noise worse than
several Fourths of July. We could follow the shells by the burning fuse,
which looks like a shooting star. This we see first, then hear the boom
of the mortar, then the hiss of the shell through the air and last the
explosion when it strikes the ground.
_Sunday night._ A team for the quartermaster's stores came early and we
were all day getting through to the regiment. Soldiers covered the
ground. I have no idea how many there were. We were near the
breastworks, but a belt of timber hid our view of them. We were in a
clearing maybe one-half mile square, with woods on all sides. There was
a house near us, the only building in sight.
_May 25, 1863._
_Monday morning._ We had orders to advance last night and our brigade
formed in column, where we remained all night, and where we are yet. One
by one we dropped down and went to sleep on the grass, where the dew
soon soaked one side while the wet ground soaked the other. A man lying
near me jumped up and raved around like a crazy man; he kept pawing at
his ear as if in great pain. A doctor sleeping near was soon at him and
found a bug had crawled into his ear. After the sun had dried us off we
began to look for rations. The mail soon after came, and I had two
letters. One of them contained a photograph of my dear old father and
mother. I won't try to tell how rejoiced I am to have this with me. I
don't think either of them ever had one taken before. Dear old couple,
how glad I am they cannot see their boy and his surrounding's just now!
_Night._ Lots of powder has been burned to-day, but Port Hudson is still
there. Our brigade has been skirmishing and one of the Sixth Michigan is
wounded. Roads are being cut through the woods, and everything looks and
acts as if business would soon begin. It does no good to ask questions,
no one seems to know any more than I do, and I only know what goes on
right close by me. Generals with their staffs are racing about, and
everything is in a whirl. Evidently something is going to happen. All
sorts of rumors are in the air. Human nature shows even here. Some news
gatherers seem to know all about it, but I notice that what happens
rarely agrees with their predictions. One of Company B, I won't write
his name, is nearly scared to death. The doctor says he will die of
fright if kept in the ranks. Another is nearly as badly off, and he has
been the biggest brag of all; has hungered and thirsted for a chance to
fight and now that he has it, has wilted. I hope he will be kept at it.
I have often envied him his courage, but I shall never do it again. I
don't deny that I am a coward, but I have so far succeeded in keeping it
to myself. The 128th is nearest the point where the road enters the
woods in the direction of the biggest noise. The skirmishers that have
been down this road say it soon reaches the corner of another open
field; that a house and outbuildings are on the side next the
fortifications and only a short distance from them; that rebel
sharpshooters are in those buildings and it is they who are picking off
every man that sticks his nose out of the woods on that side. From one
of the Sixth Michigan who was on the skirmish line I have such a vivid
description I have mapped out what he says is about the thing.
Every now and then a shell comes tearing through the woods, and so far,
in the direction of the 128th. None of them have yet burst, but from an
examination I made of one, they are intended to. This one was perfectly
round and painted black. A big screw head shows on one side, and is
turned off smooth with the shell. It is about six inches in diameter. It
hit the ground beyond us and rolled up against the foundation of the
house I have mentioned and stopped. It was then I examined it.
_Later._ Just as I had written the above, one did burst right over
Company B. The pieces, however, kept on in the same direction the shell
was going and no one was hit or hurt. Such dodging though I never saw,
and I didn't see all of it at that. Myself and two others were filling
our canteens from a kettle of coffee which sat on the ground near a big
tree. When we heard the shell coming through the tree tops we expected
it would go past as all the others had done. But it burst when right
over us. We all jumped for the tree, and our heads came together with a
bang. The first thing I saw was stars, and the next was men all over the
field dodging in every direction. This was our first experience under
fire. One could not laugh at another, for so far as I could see all
acted alike.
_Later._ They keep coming, and we dodge less and less. If they keep at
it long enough I suppose we shall get used to it, as we have to a great
many other things. A cavalryman went down the road marked with an arrow,
and his horse has just come back without him.
_Night._ About 5 P. M. a detachment from another regiment and Companies
A, C, H and I from ours, went down this same road, and soon the most
infernal racket began. They drove the rebels out of the "Slaughter
House," and set fire to every building there. (The man who owned the
house is named Slaughter). Only one man was wounded, but Captain Gifford
of Company A has not returned, and we fear the Rebs got him. The house
near us has been taken for a hospital. From appearances we will need it.
Our brigade remains where first halted, but troops of all kinds are
constantly on the move about us, some going one way and some another. It
is plain that a general movement is soon going to be made. It seems to
me as if all of Uncle Sam's army must be here, there are so many. The
128th is only a small affair just now. We have thought our brigade was
about all there was of it, and that that was largely composed of the
128th New York. I will put up my diary, and get what sleep I can with
all this confusion about me.
_May 27, 1863._
Was awake early. In fact was often awake all night long. No news of
Captain Gifford yet. His men have searched everywhere it is possible to
go, and we think he must have been captured, just how, none of his
company can imagine, for he was with them all through the squabble at
the Slaughter house, and himself gave the order to fall back. Heavy
firing is heard to the right and left of us. This must keep the Rebs in
our front busy, for no shot or shell have yet come our way. Commissary
sergeants have orders to be ready with rations all the time. It looks as
if the fight would be over and the 128th have no hand in the taking of
Port Hudson.
_Later._ The noise grows louder all the time. A general assault on Port
Hudson must be what is going on, and Dow's Brigade seems to be
forgotten. On the right and left, as far as sound can be heard, there is
heavy artillery firing, and now and then the rattle of musket firing
gets through the noise of the bigger guns.
_May 28, 1863._
There was too much going on yesterday for me to write any more. Dow's
Brigade was not forgotten. Soon after noon it went through the woods to
the open space beyond, and was soon in the thickest of the fight. The
guns in our front, that had sent us no message all the forenoon, soon
began to send them rattling through the tree tops again. We
non-combatants were in a terrible suspense. Finally my curiosity got the
better of my fears and I started after them, for I wanted to see what a
real battle was like. When I got to the cleared space I saw very little
but smoke. I met a wagon with a wounded man on the seat with the driver,
his face covered with blood, which ran over it from a wound on his head.
He was mad clear through, and swore vengeance on the Rebs, when he got
at them again. In the wagon, lying on his back, was another who was
groaning terribly, but so far as I could see was not likely to die from
his wounds, for only a little finger was gone from one hand, which he
tenderly held up with the other. I was glad to note he did not belong to
the 128th. I ventured on and came upon Sergeant Bell of Company G
standing beside the dead body of Colonel Cowles. Bell said the colonel
was killed when the Rebs first opened on them, his uniform making him a
marked man. Bell said he was near him when he fell and helped him to a
sitting position, turning him about, as he said he wanted to die facing
the enemy. Captain Keese of Company C was also near when the colonel was
hit and was directed to take command. Several others lay around where
they had fallen. Venturing on I came to the magnolia grove in which the
Slaughter mansion stood. Company B was here, in support of a section of
the Indiana Mule Battery. Having nothing to do but defend the battery,
if an attempt was made to capture it, they were lying close to the
ground behind the big trees. The battery was shelling the Rebs, and the
Rebs were shelling the battery, and the shot or shells had furrowed the
ground. The boys said Philip Allen and Sergeant Kniffin were both badly
wounded, and had been taken off the field. Riley Burdick, our orderly
sergeant, was missing, as were several others. I could see nothing of
the rebel works for the smoke, but the noise was deafening. As it might
be an all-night job, I decided to go back and try and get something for
them to eat. I got back as fast as I could and with the cooks started
with a big kettle of coffee and some hard-tack. We kept in the edge of
the woods to a point nearest the company and at right angles to the line
of fire and then I scuttled across with the coffee. After passing it
around I returned for the hard-tack, and was giving them out when a
shell came through, hitting the ground and throwing dirt all over us.
Soon another one came, hitting a big tree a glancing blow, and went on
into the woods beyond. The sergeant of the battery said he could see the
flash and would sing out, which would give me time to fall before the
shell got there, and I legged it for all I was worth. About halfway
across he yelled, and I tried to fall, but before I hit the ground the
thing was beyond me. In fact it didn't come very near me. I was going at
right angles to the line of fire, and might have known they couldn't see
me for the smoke, and would not waste a big shell on one man. The
musket firing was on lower ground and nearer the breastworks, but I only
knew by the popping of the rifles and what the boys told me, for the
smoke hid everything. We got back just in time to see the doctors fix up
a shattered shin bone for General Sherman. He lay on a stretcher and was
talking constantly, though the doctors said he knew nothing and felt
nothing. From the hole in his leg, something bigger than a bullet had
gone through it. They pulled out the loose pieces of bone with pincers,
taking hold and yanking at every end that showed. Then they ran their
fingers in and felt for more. Finally they stuffed it full of cotton to
stop the blood and then bound it up with long strips of muslin. The
firing grew less and less, but the wounded came faster and faster.
Colonel Cowles' body was sent under a guard to the landing, on its way
to New Orleans, where it will be made ready to send home. Sergeant Bell
went with it, taking his sword, watch, and other personal effects, also
his dying message, "Tell my mother I died with my face to the enemy."
General Dow, our brigadier, was shot in the foot and taken to the house
right by us. George Story is detailed for his bodyguard. One of the boys
said the Rebs began at the wrong end of the general. The dead soldiers
were left where they fell. After we got settled down and the excitement
began to wear off the question of something to eat came up. The boys on
duty at the front would be hungry by morning, and we wondered if we
couldn't find something more filling than hard-tack. John Pitcher had
found out that not far away some Irish potatoes were growing and big
enough to eat; also that directly behind the house where General Dow was
nursing his foot was a yard with a high board fence around it, with two
bloodhounds on guard inside, and that along one side of it was a bench
upon which were several hives of bees, and that a gate or door in the
fence opened out, and only a little way from the end of the bench. We
got a rope from the quartermaster sergeant and set out. The potatoes
were easy--simply had to crawl into the patch and dig with our fingers
until our haversacks were full. The bees, however, were not so easy on
account of the dogs. As they had barked pretty much all the time since
we landed in the neighborhood, no one came from the house to see about
it. We found they would follow on their side of the fence wherever we
went on ours. John then went along the fence, and the dogs followed,
leaving me at the gate. When they were at the farthest side, I opened
the gate and having made a slipnoose in the rope, I had just time to
slip it over the nearest beehive and get out before they were there. I
kept still and soon John had them on his side of the yard again, when by
quick work I yanked the hive through the gate and closed it before they
got to me. The hive had landed on its top, and the bees and honey, were
all smashed together. But enough of them could crawl to make it lively
for us before we got the mixture into a mess pan. We were stung several
times before we got home, but we got there and all hands had a feast of
hard-tack and honey. We had no way to strain the bees out, so we spread
bees and honey on the hard-tack and then picked the bees off as well as
we could. As it was, I got a stinger in my tongue, which soon began to
swell. It kept on until I was afraid I would need a doctor and in that
way give the whole thing away. But it finally stopped and by morning I
was all right again. This brings us up to this morning, May 29th.
_May 30, 1863._
The big guns' firing began early. The detail from Company B was relieved
and all evidences of honey and potatoes were soon out of sight. General
Dow sent out to know who had stolen the honey, but no one knew anything
about it. Philip Allen died during the night. The wounded were carted
off on their way to some hospital. Sergeant Kniffin was badly wounded in
the head, and it is doubtful if he lives.
About 8 A. M. an agreement was made to stop fighting until 2 P. M., so
the dead can be picked up and buried.
Orderly Burdick's body was found and some others who had been reported
missing. The Rebs say Captain Gifford is a prisoner in Port Hudson. We
were glad to know he is alive and well, for we will get him when we get
the place. Lieutenant Colonel Smith came up from the city and took
command. He called the regiment together in the woods and made a little
speech, some of which was good and some of which seemed uncalled for. He
said he had been told that some of the men hid behind trees and stumps,
and, turning to the officers said, "If you catch any of them doing that
again, shoot them down." Then he added, "I have also been told that some
of the officers hid themselves in that same way," and, turning to the
men, said, "If you catch them doing that again, shoot them down." That
evened up matters, so we gave him a good hearty "hurrah." Then he said,
"Heretofore guards have been posted to keep you from running off, but
that won't happen while I command. You can go where you want to, but God
help you if you are not here when I want you."
The 128th was stationed in the edge of the woods facing the rebel works,
to support the Indiana Battery, which had been scattered along in the
bushes. There being no smoke I was able to get a better understanding of
the lay of land than yesterday. The grove that stood about the Slaughter
house is directly in our front, where the ground begins to slope towards
the rebel breastwork, and that accounts for the shells hitting the
ground where we were yesterday, and then going high over our
sleeping-quarters. The breastwork looks like a big pile of dirt. In
shape it is most like the letter U, with the curved end towards us and
running up hill each way from us, so that the ground inside is plainly
in sight for some distance. There is great activity there as well as on
our side, and I suppose both are taking advantage of the lull in firing
to get in the best position when it begins again.
By asking questions, and by keeping my eyes open I have learned that for
miles in front of the fortifications the Rebels were scattered before we
came. They had rifle pits, which are nothing but ditches, deep enough so
that the ditch and the dirt thrown from it will hide a man when standing
up. They also had mud forts, which are like the rifle pits, only wider,
and had big guns in them, intending to whip us before we got near the
main works. Our advance had some sharp fighting to drive them out of
these and into the main fortification, where they were before I saw the
place. That accounts for the wounded men that were sent back before we
left Springfield Landing.
_May 30, 1863._
The Rebs shelled our quarters at night and we were ordered back to our
old sleeping ground. Bill Snyder and I had such a good place behind a
big tree that we staid there and slept sound all night, although a big
chunk of bark was knocked off the tree in the night, and our gunners
kept up a steady fire all night long. This shows that my reputation as a
sound sleeper has not suffered. About 8 o'clock our guns dismounted the
rebel gun that has been our greatest pest, and have twice since that
knocked it down just as they had it almost in position. We have nothing
to do but lay here and swap yarns with the battery men. From all I can
learn, some one has made a big blunder, and a great many lives and a
great deal of expense to Uncle Sam is directly chargeable to it. It
appears a general assault all along the line was planned to come off
early on the morning of the 27th. General Weitzel on the right began the
charge on time, and the Rebels massed all their forces against him. When
they had nicely disposed of him, the left under General Augur went in
and they, too, were cut up and driven back. The center, under General
Sherman, about the middle of the afternoon went in and took their
medicine. This plan of attack allowed the Rebs to shift from one point
to another, and whip us by detail. What would have happened if we had
all charged at the same time none of us know for sure, but we all think
Port Hudson would now be ours. Reports say the 128th lost two officers
and twenty men killed, and the whole army about 300 killed and 1500
wounded. It doesn't seem possible that so much lead and iron could have
been fired at us and so few men killed and wounded. The mules and horses
killed were left where they fell. The stench is awful, and seems to be
getting worse all the time. Great birds, as big as hen turkeys, are
tearing them to pieces; turkey buzzards, they call them, and in fact
they look just like turkeys at a little distance. They are not afraid of
us, but keep coming and going, quarreling among themselves over the
choice bits. General Dwight now commands Sherman's division, and Colonel
Clark, of the Sixth Michigan, takes General Dow's place in our brigade.
The Sixth Michigan and the 128th New York have been so much together
that we have come to be like one big family and are fast friends.
_May 31, 1863._
_Sunday, p. m._ This morning a foraging party, made up of a squad from
each company, went outside, on Port Hudson Plains, a beautiful country,
to try for some fresh meat. I managed to get on the detail from Company
B. We had the quartermaster's wagon to bring in what we might find. We
soon got separated, and each detail going its own way, that from Company
B were lucky enough to come upon and shoot down a two-year-old heifer.
We dressed the animal and strung the hindquarters on a pole and started
back, leaving a man to watch the rest until the wagon came around. We
lugged the beef home and it was soon being cooked, some of it in the
kettles and some on the ends of ramrods stuck in the fire. After we were
full we began to feel generous, and invited in our friends until only
the bones were left. We sent some in to General Dow, and asked Colonel
Smith and the other officers to have some. Nobody refused, not even
General Dow, who is so dead set against foraging. About noon the wagon
came in and the whole regiment had a feast. I never tasted anything so
good as that chunk of beef roasted in the fire. This does not reflect on
your cooking, mother. You never let me get so hungry as Uncle Sam has.
No doubt you would make it taste even better than it did. I did not know
I was so hungry until I began to eat. It tasted so good I was actually
sorry when I could eat no more. There are lots of things I have not
written about, and now that my crop is full, and there is nothing else
to do, I will try and catch up. In the first place, I must say that this
region is headquarters for snakes. I don't suppose there is a spot on
earth where there are so many snakes to the acre as right here. We have
cleared them off from our near neighborhood, but go in any direction on
ground that is not occupied and there they are. The most common is the
moccasin; two kinds, one with a white mouth, called cottonmouth
moccasins and said to be poisonous. The other looks just like our water
snakes at home. Black snakes and king snakes come next, the latter the
nearest to handsome of any snake I ever saw. They are of a
pepper-and-salt color, and grow large, those I have seen being between
five and six feet long and large in proportion. They are said to be
deadly enemies to all other snakes and that they kill and eat any of the
other kinds.
Several rattlesnakes have been killed, but I have only seen one. That
was lying across a path we had made through the weeds, and I came near
stepping on it. Just as one foot was coming down I saw him, and managed
someway to jump clear over him from the one foot that was on the ground.
I have tried to make such a jump since, but cannot go half so high or so
far as I did then. I hunted up a club and hit him across the back, when
I first found out that some rascal had killed him, cut off his tail and
then placed him across the path to scare some other fellow. I left him
there to scare someone else. Then all over and everywhere are a sort of
lizard that they call chameleons. They change color, taking on the shade
of anything they are on. They are as spry as squirrels, and seem to
enjoy running over us when we lie down and then darting up a tree, or
off through the bushes. There are some mosquitoes, but they are not
nearly so plenty or so bloodthirsty as in other places we have been. The
meanest thing is a small black bug, just like what we call at home
snapping bugs. Their delight is to crawl in someone's ear when asleep.
We sleep with cotton in our ears every night. They make a man raving
crazy. The doctors pour oil in first, and then syringe them out. Nearly
every night there is a bug case. The woods are full of squirrels. I have
seen black squirrels, gray squirrels and a fox squirrel, all in sight at
one time. The blacks and grays are very common. The one fox squirrel I
saw was about as big as a half-grown cat. The blacks are between our red
squirrels and grays for size. Blackberries, the high bush kind, are ripe
here now and are plenty, but we have to go farther and farther to get
them, on account of there being so many pickers. There are plenty of
magnolia trees right here in the woods about us. They are in bloom now,
though the blossoms are so high up we can get none. After a shower the
scent is so strong as to be sickening. The trees are like our large
forest trees. The leaves are long but not very wide, are a sort of brown
on the under side, but the deepest dark green on top. We have some hard
thunderstorms. The loudest thunder crashes and the sharpest lightning
flashes I ever saw. Lying in the woods as we do, it is strange none of
the trees are struck or that nobody is killed. We are soaked to the skin
on an average once every day. Sometimes several times in one day and
night. We have only the clothes on our backs, so we make no changes. If
the sun shines we sometimes wring out and hang on a bush for a while.
But it is so warm we don't mind it. Some have blankets. Everyone is
supposed to have one, but many got lost, mine among the number. I don't
much care, for now I don't have to lug it about. Wet or dry we take no
cold. We are tough as grain-fed horses and in fact we sometimes have to
endure what a horse could not. God is good to us, otherwise we could not
live and thrive as we do.
_Night._ A new style of a fighting machine has just gone from here, on
its way to the right wing. There were two light carriages, upon each of
which were mounted twenty-four rifle barrels, all made to be loaded and
fired by one operation of a lever. Good-bye Johnnies when they get at
you. It is too dark to write more.
_June 1, 1863._
_Monday._ The artillery keeps up an irregular firing, and now and then
the Rebs reply. Major Bostwick and the negro troops are busy every night
digging rifle pits, and to-day there is what looks like a fort, which
must have been built in the night, and from which there is firing
to-day. We hear to-day General Sherman has died of his wounds.
One or two of Company B are on the sick list. I wish they would hurry up
and do something, for the more there is going on, the better we all
feel.
_June 2, 1863._
_Tuesday._ Another day of doing nothing. A man got up this morning and
found a big king snake had crawled up close to his back for warmth, and
was fast asleep yet when the man got up. Once this would have made a
commotion in camp, but little was thought of it, and Mr. Snake was
scared off into the bushes to look up and breakfast on some other snake.
_June 3, 1863._
_Wednesday._ The artillery kept firing all night, and the mortar fleet,
which is said to be right opposite us, also sent shell after shell over
into the works. The Rebs got real careless too, and fired right at our
sleeping quarters. They seem to have a better range on us than ever
before. I got behind my tree and went to sleep again. One of Company G
was hit and badly hurt, and it is said a man farther down the line had
both legs shot off.
_June 4, 1863._
_Thursday._ Last night we had another serenade. No one was hurt so far
as I can find out. The regiment was routed out again and moved back to
the other side of the woods, on account of the shot and shell which have
a way of coming right at us lately. I stuck to my big tree, for although
it has been hit two or three times, nothing can ever go through it. The
day has passed like the others lately, with nothing to do but loaf
about. Two deserters came out of the woods across the field in our
front. They say there is but little in Port Hudson to eat, and a great
many there to eat it, and that they will eat themselves out soon, even
if not another gun is fired.
_June 5, 1863._
_Friday._ The mail went out to-day and I sent a letter, also my diary up
to this time. The Rebs have done all the shooting to-day. Why our side
don't answer I don't know. I expect something is going on, maybe getting
up a surprise party. I hope it may surprise the enemy worse than the
other did. Deserters came out again this morning. They sneak out during
the night and hide in the bushes until daylight and then come in. They
are first fed and then sent to the landing, and I suppose to some prison
down the river. They all tell the same story, that Port Hudson must soon
surrender on account of fodder giving out. The Rebs have been shooting a
new kind of shot at us to-day. I got hold of one that held together and
will describe it. There are six iron plates about a half inch thick,
with a small hole in the middle and a row of larger holes about halfway
from the center to the outside. In these larger holes are cast iron
balls, held in place between the plates by the larger holes, and the
whole thing held together by a rod through the center holes. The plates
are round and fit the bore of the gun. They make a different and much
louder noise going through the air than anything else that has come our
way. But like the others, they do little more than trim the trees about
us. Colonel Smith thinks the cook-fires show through the trees, and give
them our range, so he has ordered them back out of sight.
_June 6, 1863._
_Saturday._ Nothing more than usual has happened to-day, but it is plain
to see that preparations are being made for a move of some sort.
Artillery, infantry and cavalry are constantly on the move. Officers are
riding helter-skelter in every direction, and everything and everybody
seems to be busy but ourselves. So long as the battery is not attacked
we have only to look on. If that should happen, my diary might read
different, if it read at all. We lie here doing nothing but eat, sleep
and guess what is going on. Whatever it is, is kept mighty secret, for
we have ways of finding out most everything but what the next move will
be. Some firing to-day, but not as much as for the past few days.
_June 7, 1863._
_Sunday._ Lieutenant Pierce has gone off sick. This leaves Sergeant
Hummiston in command of Company B. He is a good fellow and no doubt will
give a good account of himself. The day has been a busy one. Just as if
the final preparations for some great move were being made. We all
expect it to-morrow. Now while I have a chance I must tell how a snake
scared me to-day. Some of the boys told of great big blackberries about
a mile out, and we went for them. They were even bigger than we were
told, and we ate all we could, and put some in our haversacks for the
rest. An old rail fence ran into the bushes, which were thick for a rod
or more on each side. We walked the fence, holding onto the bushes, and
picking as we went. I happened to be the farthest in, and seeing some
that looked even better than any we had yet found, I kept crawling along
on the rickety old fence until I was out of sight from the rest. Just as
I was going to quit, I saw such a big bunch that I could not resist
getting them. The bush was high above me and I could only reach a leaf
by which I gently pulled it down until I got a better hold, and almost
had the berries within reach when a great big black head and neck raised
up and looked right at me. If my eyes did not magnify, the head was as
big as my fist, and such part of the neck as I saw was as big as my
wrist. I had only my bare hands to fight with, and was at a terrible
disadvantage on the top of that shaky old fence, with no place to jump
off for a long ways. I was scared nearly out of my senses. I let the
bush go back in the same careful manner in which I had pulled it down,
and then made my way out as fast as I could go, which by the way seemed
awfully slow to me. What the snake did, or what became of him, I don't
know. I saw the last of him as the bush came between us. I made the
mistake of telling how big the snake was. The boys were ready to believe
I had seen one, for they said my looks showed I had seen something, but
when I told its size they rolled on the ground and laughed. The idea of
such a thing as I described lying on the top of a blackberry bush was
too much for them. I don't know what he lay on nor do I care. All I know
is that he was there. What held him up was of no consequence to me. He
was the biggest snake I ever saw by all odds, and I don't yet think I
stretched the story at all. But the boys added to it every time they
told it. It is going about with all the variations they can think of. It
is the first real good one they have had on me, so let them go it. If
the expected battle comes off to-morrow it is time to go to bed, so
here goes.
_June 8, 1863._
_Monday._ No more signs of a battle than there have been for a week
back. I may as well finish up my snake story, for there is nothing else
in the air. The wind-up was the most exciting part of it. I dreamed
about it as soon as I was asleep. Many of us have bush houses to sleep
in. Bill Snyder and I were partners in one. We had set up poles against
our big tree, and covered them with weeds and bushes, leaving a hole on
one side to crawl in. I crawled in first and was soon asleep. Just as
Bill was crawling in, the snake, which I had seen coming for me for
hours, it seemed to me, made a jump and landed on me. I jumped, and at
the same time gave a yell that aroused the whole regiment, and the boys
say was heard on the picket lines. I went clear over Snyder, who
grabbed, and got hold of me just as I was diving into the bushes
outside. The first I knew I was being shaken so my teeth rattled. It was
some time before we got settled down again. The snake let me alone after
that. The boys say the snake did come, and it was to pay me for lying so
about him. The Rebs made a move last night farther to the left, and came
outside their works in quite a body. After a short but rather sharp
skirmish they went back and staid there. The mail has come and I had six
letters and three papers. Good news from home, or at least no bad news.
Am glad enough to hear from them and to know they are well. One letter
was from John, and from its tone he is well and feeling fine. The 150th
is still in Baltimore.
_June 9, 1863._
_Tuesday._ All quiet yet. Now and then a shell comes out of the rebel
works, I suppose to let us know they are still there. We are waiting for
the signal to go at them. Things have settled down, as if the troops
were all in position. I went down along the left wing to-day, but could
see nothing but soldiers. There are enough here to take Port Hudson, if
numbers can do it, and why it isn't done none of us can imagine.
_June 10, 1863._
_Wednesday._ There has been considerable firing along the lines both to
the right and left of us. From all I can find out, we, on the center,
are the nearest to the rebel works of any, and our batteries are able to
keep them inside. Both to the right and left there seems to be a strip
of disputed ground, occupied by both sides, who are entrenched in rifle
pits, which each side keeps pushing forward, and it is the fighting over
these that we hear most every night. Last night they fired on our
position for a while, and at one time they came so fast my bedfellow
left me and went back with the regiment. But my old tree had not failed
me yet, and I was not going back on it, so I staid and slept like a baby
through what, by the looks of the trees and limbs, was quite a sharp
cannonading.
_June 11, 1863._
_Thursday._ About three this morning one of the hardest showers we have
had broke right over us, and we were nearly drowned. So much water ran
down the tree that I thought I was going to be washed away. So I crawled
out and found that by standing up I did not catch half as much water as
when lying down. But a little more or less made no difference, for I was
soaked as wet as water could make me. The lightning was something awful
and the thunder beat even the bombardment on the day of the fight. The
lightning lit up the woods in great shape, and between flashes it was
blackness itself. As soon as it was over and daylight came, we stripped
and wrung the water out of our clothes, after which we had some hot
coffee, which made it all right again. The batteries kept up their
five-minute firing just as if the sun shone, and about the usual number
of replies were made by the Johnnies.
A detail from Company B and another from Company H had a wrangle over a
spring where the Rebs had been getting water in the night. One of
Company H was badly wounded. Deserters come out every morning, and all
tell the same story, that Port Hudson is ours just as soon as we are a
mind to go and take it.
A Wisconsin regiment marched past our quarters to-day going towards the
left. Next the colors was a man with a pole like a flagstaff, on the top
of which was a board about three feet square. The board was set on a
slant and the staff appeared to run through it for a foot or so, and
ended up with a short crosspiece, upon which sat a live eagle. He looked
like a hawk, only larger. He had a chain on one leg, the other end of
which was fast to his perch. Sometimes he would rise as high as the
chain would allow, and fly along, no faster than the man walked. I
quizzed one of the men, who said the eagle was given the regiment before
it left home and that they had kept it with them ever since. That a man
was detailed to carry and care for it, who had nothing else to do. There
is something mysterious going to happen soon. Loads and loads of cotton
bales are being piled up to the left of our position, and hundreds of
picks and shovels and axes are stacked up near the cotton. I guess they
are going to bury it.
_June 12, 1863._
_Friday._ A detail from our regiment was called out during the night,
and this morning the mystery about the cotton is solved. They met other
details near the cotton bales, and they rolled them out to within about
twenty rods of the breastworks, and piled them up in fort shape. Then
with picks and shovels they piled the dirt against them, others filling
bags with dirt and piling them up where directed, and as directed. A
"bomb proof" they call it. It is large enough to hold two or three
regiments. These were marched in and it is up to them to hold the fort
until night comes again, when guns are to be planted there. The Rebels
did not know a thing of it until this morning, and then they banged away
at it for a while, until our guns from above and below took their
attention. The men kept there are safe enough from the Rebs, but the sun
will roast them. There isn't a particle of shade, and the sun is a hot
one in the middle of the day. It is reported that another cotton fort
was built up on the right, in the same way.
One of our men got hit on the arm by another fellow's pick, otherwise no
one was hurt. Deserters who came out this morning say there is great
activity in Port Hudson these days, though food for man and beast is
very scarce. It has been an unlucky day for Company B. One man shot his
finger off and another cut off his big toe cutting wood for the cooks.
The toeless man went to the hospital, but his toe has been going around
from one to another and turning up in the most unexpected places. Just
before night we were called together, and an order from General Banks'
headquarters read to us. In effect it said that the 128th New York
Volunteers had so far performed their duties in such a manner as to give
great satisfaction to the commanding general. That in the immediate
future their duties would be still more hard and dangerous. That any
member of it whose conduct in the past and in the future entitled him to
promotion should receive it. It then went on to say that any violation
of orders would call down speedy vengeance on our heads. That looks as
if something was going to be done, and the 128th would have a hand in
it.
_June 13, 1863._
_Saturday._ The cotton fort, as we call it, was finished during the
night. We were left alone, for a wonder. When the big guns were being
mounted the Rebs made quite a time about it, firing every gun they could
bring to bear on it. Also at the right, as well as farther to our left,
there was heavy firing. It seems as if we are pretty well fixed for it
in case another try is made. Much better than before. Besides, they have
lost a great many men by desertion since then. Have just learned that
two men and a horse were killed on our front, and that on our right
there was a real stubborn fight over the gun planting.
_P. M._ About 10 o'clock a terrific fire from our new and old batteries
began and lasted for an hour. So far as I could see not a rebel gun was
fired in reply. The 128th was then given a taste of the dangerous duty
spoken of in the order last night. They were marched out in front of the
enemy and went through several evolutions like a battalion-drill, the
object being to draw the enemy's fire so our gunners could get their
range. But it didn't work, for not a gun was fired at them, and they
came back with the fife and drum playing a quickstep.
_Later._ A white flag is waving over the cotton fort. What it can mean
none of us know.
_Later still._ It is said General Banks by way of the white flag has
notified the Rebs to get all their women and children and non-combatants
out of the way, as he intends advancing on their works to-morrow.
_June 14, 1863._
_Sunday._ The noisiest kind of a sermon is being preached here to-day.
It has been a busy day. We served rations at 3 o'clock this morning and
have orders to be ready for a change in position at any minute. That has
kept us picked up and waiting, but up to this time, 9 A. M., have had no
other orders. The 128th and the Twenty-sixth Connecticut went off in the
direction of Springfield Landing. The firing seems to be all along the
line. The Rebs must have more guns than we thought, for they are talking
back at a great rate.
_11 a. m._ Walter Orr has just come in with a thumb shot off. He says
they went but a little way towards the landing before they came to a
road leading to the left, and they went into action as skirmishers about
a mile from here, through bushes and over rough ground. The rebel
skirmish line lay hid in the bushes until our line was almost on them,
and then rose up and fired right in their faces. Walt is the only one
hurt on our side, so far as he knows.
_June 15, 1863._
_Monday._ As I heard no more about a move, and as the regiment did not
show up, I set out to look them up. I got the best direction I could
from Orr and went and went, and kept going, inquiring all the time for
the 128th New York. No one seemed to know. The troops were all
strangers. I could not even find our brigade. Darkness came and I was
completely lost. The firing had about stopped, and men lay everywhere,
some dead and the rest sleeping. I don't know what time it was when I
gave up the search, but all at once I found myself completely tired out.
I was following a path, and not daring to lay down in it, I crawled
under a bush near it and in a minute was sleeping as sound as the rest.
When I awoke this morning the sun was shining. I lay still trying to get
my wits to working again, and the first I remember was a great buzzing
of flies behind me. I mistrusted a dead soldier was close by and upon
getting up found two, a captain and a lieutenant, that had been laid
there to keep them from being run over in the night. There was only a
little picket shooting going on, everything else was resting up after
the hard work of the day before. About 10 A. M. I found the 128th way
down towards the river, and within musket shot of the rebel works. Walt
Orr's thumb was the only loss to Company B, but several were wounded in
the other companies. As this was to be our permanent quarters I hurried
back to get the commissary stores ready to move.
_June 16, 1863._
_Tuesday._ In our new quarters on the field, I had just got back
yesterday, and had a drink of coffee, when the adjutant rode up with
orders to pack up, as the wagons would soon be there. I was so near
played out that I gave the order and then went to sleep. Everything was
loaded and ready for a start before I woke up, and we reached here in
time for supper. When I get rested and slept out I will tell what sort
of a place we are in, and how we got here.
_June 17, 1863._
_Wednesday._ We were nearly drowned again last night. One of the
showers, such as only this place can get up, came down on us just as we
dozing off. Every hollow became a puddle before the fellows sleeping in
it could get out. The best thing about these downpours is, we don't have
to dread them. We are soaking wet before we know it. Then they only last
a short time, and the weather being hot we are not chilled. We stand
around and growl for a while and then settle down and are soon asleep
again.
I have been to the river and had a swim, also washed out my clothes. We
are near neighbors with the enemy now. Directly opposite us is their
water battery, so called because it is near the river. Just beyond us,
to the right, the ground is about covered with rifle pits belonging to
both sides, and near enough together to talk across. Both sides are
resting up I guess, for there is next to no firing to-day. A strip of
road just beyond us, and where we had to go over when we came here, is
open to the enemy's fire and they made us scratch yesterday. They are
bad marksmen, for so far they have hit no one. The men crossing this
open space are the only ones they have tried to shoot.
_Night._ An order--they call everything an order here--has just been
read, calling for 1,000 volunteers to go into Port Hudson, or die in the
attempt. A "_Forlorn Hope_," it is called. I believe it must be a joke.
If the whole 19th Army Corps together can't get in, how can a thousand
men expect to do it? The order congratulates the troops on their good
behavior, and the steady advance they have made on the enemy's works. We
are at all points upon the enemy's threshold. "One more advance and they
are ours." Then it calls upon the bold men of the corps to organize a
storming party of a thousand men, to vindicate the Flag of our Union,
and the memory of the defenders who have already fallen. Officers who
lead the column shall be promoted, and the men composing the storming
party shall each have a medal, and have their names put on the roll of
honor. That is the substance of the order, which has raised the greatest
sort of a commotion among us.
_Later._ Although we have until morning to decide, Company B has made up
its mind not to try for the medals. We don't believe one thousand men
can hope to do what all the thousands of the 19th Army Corps have twice
failed to do. I wish General Banks and his army of advisers could have
been at our conference, for we spoke our minds no matter who it hit.
From the best evidence possible to get, viz., the deserters that daily
come out, General Banks has at least ten men to the enemy's one. We
could swarm over the breastworks on some dark night and bring every man
in Port Hudson back with us. We wouldn't send them word to get ready,
and have their guns pointed at us before we started, neither would we
allow the cannon to bellow the news of our coming for an hour or two
beforehand. This was done on May 27, and of the last attempt word was
sent in by a flag of truce the day before. Companies G and E are of the
same mind as Company B, so if any go from the 128th it must be from the
other companies.
_June 18, 1863._
_Thursday._ Another squad of deserters came in this morning. I suppose
they come in on other parts of the line just the same. This must weaken
the enemy faster than our fighting has done. They all tell of hard times
and short rations. The weather is hot, and a horrible stench comes from
the dead horses and mules, which the buzzards are tearing to pieces.
There is scarcely any firing between the sharpshooters. The lines here
are so close the men talk with each other, and have agreed to warn each
other when the officers come around. At other times it is more like
visiting than anything else. It is terribly hot in the rifle pits. I
made the rounds to-day, and had a chat with a middle-aged Johnnie. He
said we were not at all like they had been told, and there were some who
believed we had horns on our heads, and had feet like cattle. Now that
they know better they don't want to fight us, and will only do so when
obliged to. Three men were sunstruck while in the trenches to-day.
_June 19, 1863._
_Friday._ Three more men knocked out to-day. One sunstruck and two
wounded. The Rebs have men posted way back inside the works, with rifles
having telescope sights, and it is these that do the mischief, rather
than those in the rifle pits. Now that we are warned of these fellows,
we must look sharp, and maybe then get a clip. This explains how a
couple of balls whistled past me yesterday when no sound of a gun was
heard.
_June 20, 1863._
_Saturday._ One of Company B, while poking about yesterday, had the good
luck to shoot a cow, and last night he came in dragging as much of it as
he could. So we have had another fill up and the world seems well with
us now. I went for another swim in the river, and gave my clothes
another washing. My one shirt has shrunk so I can hardly get into it.
Not a button is left on it. The wristbands only come a little below my
elbows, and the bottom only just reaches to my trousers. I have no way
to tell how I look, but the others are about as black as the negro
troops, and I suppose I must be ditto. The rifle pits are being extended
and the Rebs are shoving theirs just as fast, each keeping about the
same distance from the other. No shooting is done, a sort of agreement
having been made not to fire on each other until another assault is made
along the whole line.
_June 21, 1863._
_Sunday._ My diary says to-day is Sunday. If I have kept my reckoning
right it is, but nothing else hints at its being the day set apart for
rest. Directly in front of our sleeping quarters is a high knob or hill,
and directly back of that is the water battery on ground just as high
and only separated from it by a V-shaped hollow between. There are men
making a road up that knob, and I think it is going to be fortified. The
storming party is said to be full, and are to report at General Banks'
headquarters to-night. It is said thirty-five go from the 128th. If all
the regiments send a like number there will be several thousand instead
of one, as was called for. Nearly half from this regiment are from
Company C. Company A is next, with nine, and the rest are from the other
companies, except B, G, and E, which send none. They go way up to the
right of the line, but where they will make the attempt is not told, if
it is known. Captain Keese goes in command of the squad from the 128th,
and with sixteen from his own Company C, nine from Company A, three from
Company D, one from Company F, two from Company H, three from Company I,
and two from Company K, making thirty-six in all, making a big showing
from our regiment. We bid them good-bye, for some of them, and perhaps
all, have gone on their last march. There are men left who have proved
themselves just as brave as these have ever done. We don't all see it
alike, that's all. We feel as if we had had a big funeral in the family,
and are a sober set to-night.
_June 22, 1863._
_Monday._ Another drenching shower last night made our night miserable,
though the sun soon dried us off this morning. A foraging party was sent
out for fresh beef to-day, and came in minus one man, who it is supposed
was picked up by guerrillas. Parties of them are said to be hovering
about outside of our lines. The Rebs asked our pickets to-day when that
thousand men was to come and get them. They would not tell how they knew
of it, but perhaps General Banks has sent them word, as he has done of
every move yet. No doubt the exact time and place will be told them by
some one. I am more glad than ever now, that none of Company B went. The
general opinion is now that the boys that have volunteered have been
sacrificed, and that if the thing was to be tried over again, few, if
any, would stir a step.
All quiet to-day except now and then a gun just to keep up appearances.
_June 23, 1863._
_Tuesday._ Another detail for foragers to-day. I made out to get on this
time. The quartermaster's team goes to bring in the beef or mutton or
whatever it is we may get.
_June 24, 1863._
_Wednesday._ It is only by pure good luck that I am in my usual place of
abode to-day, and able to write in my diary of yesterday's foraging
expedition. A detail of three from each company set out with a four-mule
team. We went until about opposite our old quarters, on the center, and
then turned towards Port Hudson Plain. We divided up into squads, Smith
Darling, the drummer boy, and myself of Company B making one, and each
hunting on our own hook. If firing was heard, it would indicate a kill,
and the wagon was to come for the game. We found cattle, but they were
wild, and very soon the Company B squad found itself alone and out of
sight or hearing of the others. Along in the afternoon we started to
find our way back to camp and soon after came upon and shot a
two-year-old steer. We fired our guns several times and then went to
work and dressed the animal as well as we could with only our knives. We
got the backbone apart and strung the hindquarters on a stake. Giving
the drummer the liver and tongue, we started, hoping the wagon would
pick us up on its way back. The country seemed new to us and we soon
made up our minds we were lost, as likely to be going away from Port
Hudson as towards it. Just about sundown we came in sight of a house,
and before we got to it saw General Dow and George Story ride up. They
dismounted, and the General went into the house, leaving George to put
up the horses. George had pulled the saddle from his horse when we came
up and hailed him. He was as glad to see us as we were to see him. He
said the General was stopping there and his foot was getting well fast.
He told us to take a path through the bushes and we would soon come to a
negro shanty, where he thought we could trade some beef for an old mule
the darkey had and so get the rest of the meat into camp. Just then we
heard the clank of sabres coming, and fearing it might be some hungry
cavalry squad who would want us to divide, we got into the bushes as
fast as we could. We were just nicely hidden when they dashed up. We
heard them talking with Story and soon after heard them ride on down the
road in the direction from which we had come. Why the general left the
good quarters inside the lines for this out-of-the-way place is a query
we don't understand. We soon reached a clearing and were able to trade a
chunk of beef for an old gray mule. It was then dark, but with
directions from the darkey we were able to strike the road to camp.
Smith rode the mule with the beef strung across in front, and the
drummer and I followed on with the liver and tongue. When we were within
a couple of miles of home a shower came upon us and soon soaked us
through. The thunder and lightning was something awful, but except for
the lightning I don't know how we would have kept the road. We reached
camp at 10 o'clock, wet, tired and hungry enough to eat raw beef. The
team with the rest of the foraging party had got in about dark, and
until we came in, it was supposed some wandering squad of rebel cavalry
had bagged us. Altogether we had a sufficient supply of beef to last us
for some days.
_June 25, 1863._
_Thursday._ We have been listening and expecting to hear the beginning
of the third attempt to take Port Hudson by storm. But the day has
passed without any great excitement. Five deserters came in this
morning, and said there was others that would come if they were sure of
good, fair treatment. They had agreed upon a signal, which was to be a
green bush fastened upon the end of an old building close by. If the
bush was put up it would mean they were well treated, otherwise they
were to say nothing about the signal, and it would be a warning to their
comrades to stay where they are.
A letter from Jane to-day. They have just heard where we are, and are
very anxious. The newspapers have Banks' army all cut to pieces.
_June 26, 1863._
_Friday._ Lieutenant Pierce is half sick yet, and ought not to be here.
He wished this morning he had some blackberries, so three of us got
permission to go for some. So many pickers have cleaned them up, so we
found only a few here and there. We went a long way out, and made a
thorough search. A shower overtook us and gave us a fine washing. Just
after noon we heard the ball open again. It seemed to be all along the
line from right to left. One said it was General Banks' notice to the
Rebs to get ready to whip him again. We hurried back with what berries
we had. The shot and shells were flying both ways. Company B was out on
the skirmish line, and did not get in until morning. The firing stopped
about dark, and so far as I can find out no one has been killed or
wounded.
_June 27, 1863._
_Saturday._ Too many blackberries yesterday have made me sick to-day. I
certainly feel slim. I don't care who has Port Hudson; I don't want it.
I wouldn't turn my hand over for the whole Confederacy.
_Later._ Am feeling better, but don't hanker after blackberries yet.
Company B turned up four men short but they came in later. They got so
close they had to crawl on their bellies for a long ways before they
dare stand up.
_June 28, 1863._
_Sunday._ Am all right again. To-day has been a busy one. A big gun, the
biggest I ever saw, "Old Abe" it is called, was dragged here last night
and got up on the point opposite the Rebels' water battery. To-day the
gun has been got into position. Being so near, and having so little to
do, I put in the day with them, helping in any way I could. The fort is
made of cotton bales, backed up by bags of earth too thick to be shot
through. When all was ready it was most sundown. A limb with thick
leaves hung over one side, and under this I got to see what happened.
When "Old Abe" finally did speak, the shell went into the ground way
under the rebel gun, and after what seemed a long time exploded. The
whole thing went up in the air, and when the dust settled, the muzzle of
the gun lay sticking over the bank, pointed up toward the moon. So
ended the famous "water battery" that we have heard so much about.
"Billy Wilson's" Zouave regiment, our left-hand neighbor, then came up
the ravine dragging a long rope they had got from the gunboats, and
slipped it over the muzzle of the gun, intending to drag it over. But
they couldn't budge it, and finally gave it up. Next they came back with
hand grenades which they fired and tossed over. They had cut the fuses
too long and they had no more than landed on the other side when the
Rebs threw them back. That made the red legs skedaddle, and all that
saved them was the fact that in coming up they had come on a slant,
while the grenades rolled directly down. As it was, a piece hit a
drummer boy, and he lies here on the ground apparently breathing his
last. The top of his head has a large piece chipped off. There has been
a good deal of powder burned to-day. What has been done besides tearing
up the water battery I don't know. To-night the mortar boats have been
throwing shells into the works. They pass directly over us. We are so
near, the report is almost stunning. The fuse is cut long enough to last
until they drop. I hope none of them may go off while over our quarters.
_June 29, 1863._
_Monday._ The Rebs shelled our quarters last night, and kept us huddled
in the ravine until some were asleep. The weather grows hotter every
day. Many give out in the rifle pits, though they contrive every way to
get in the shade of something.
_June 30, 1863._
_Tuesday._ Last night the Zouaves made another try to get the guns from
the water battery. Two of them came back on stretchers, and the guns are
still there. A man was killed to-day while lying on the ground right
among us. He was resting his head on one hand, when a shell burst and a
piece as large as my hand came down and passed through his shoulder and
so on through his body, coming out near his hip. He merely sank down and
did not stir. An order has just come from General Dwight for every man
to sleep with his accoutrements on, ready to move at a minute's notice.
_July 1, 1863._
_Wednesday._ Nothing happened at our house last night, although we were
ready for visitors or to go visiting at the shortest possible notice. It
is reported that a part of the Sixth Michigan got into the water battery
last night and brought out a rebel captain with them, and without loss
on their part. The enemy are reported gathering in our rear. They
captured General Dow and George Story yesterday. We are sorry about
George, but no one feels very sorry about the general. A man from the
right says General Banks made a speech to the storming party last night,
and promised them that Port Hudson would be taken inside of the next
three days.
_July 2, 1863._
_Thursday._ Last night the shot and shells flew thicker than at any
time. The Rebs seem to be getting madder all the time. I got my closest
call, too. I was sitting on a plank laid across the ravine when a shell
burst in front of me. I don't know how I knew, but I did know a hunk of
it was coming straight for me, and I dove off into the weeds just as it
struck and tore up the ground behind me. It must have gone within an
inch or less of the plank, and right where I sat. It is reported that
General Dow and Story were recaptured last night by our cavalry. We hope
for Story's sake it is true. An orderly rode in a few minutes ago with
an order for troops, saying the Rebels had attacked Springfield Landing.
The Zouaves and the 162d New York have started, and probably others from
farther up the line. All our stores of supplies are there. The Essex
has up with her anchor and gone down there and if there is any fighting
we shall hear it soon. If our supplies are captured we will have to
fight on empty stomachs or be captured ourselves. How the Rebs would
laugh at us if such a thing should happen, and who could blame them!
_July 3, 1863._
_Friday._ It was only a scare. The troops came back before midnight. A
guerrilla squad attacked a wagon train and were fought off by the
guards. But it gave us something new to think and to talk about at any
rate. If General Banks hoists the stars and stripes in Port Hudson
to-morrow, he will probably begin getting ready to-day. No doubt for
some of us it will be our last celebration. Who will be taken and who
will be left none of us know, and what a blessed thing it is we don't!
Now we can each think it will be the other fellow. We have never had any
great love for our head surgeon, Dr. Cole, and to-night we hate him more
than ever. Yesterday Corporal Blunt of Company K went to him for an
excuse from duty, as he was sick. He told him he was able for duty and
he went back into the rifle pit and died. How we wish it had been the
doctor instead. Just at night a pair of oxen were discovered in the
bushes near by and Smith Darling and I were sent out to capture them. We
got near enough for a shot without being discovered, and each got his ox
at the first shot. The mules came and dragged them out where they are
handy and to-morrow we expect a beef stew. The officers will have
beefsteak, of course, but we are not particular about the part so long
as we get some. Three of the Zouaves, who were captured during the fight
on May 27, made their escape and came in to-night. They had got into the
river and swam down, coming in as naked as they were born, and almost
starved.
_July 4, 1863._
_Saturday._ Company K lost another man by sickness to-day. There are a
good many sick. The health of the 128th has, up to a very recent time,
been good. We have had hard usage but seemed to thrive under it until
this terrible hot weather came on. Two of Company B go to the hospital
to-day, and several others are grunting. Out of the eleven hundred we
set out with we have only three hundred and fifty now, and the other
regiments can tell the same sort of a story, and some of them even a
worse one.
Being a sort of jack-at-all-trades, I help out in any way I can, for so
many being laid off, makes double duty for some others. I have been
filling out the last two months' pay and muster rolls to-day and that
gives me a chance to know about my own company and regiment. So far as
we know, General Banks did not take Port Hudson to-day. If I were he I
wouldn't set any more dates. It has been a very quiet Fourth of July.
Have heard a bigger noise at the "City" many a time.
_July 5, 1863._
_Sunday._ Something wrong with the pay rolls, and I have been all day
trying to find out what it is.
Captain Gifford, of Company A, who was captured when the Slaughter
buildings were burned, came in to-day. He escaped last night, swimming
the river and getting here about naked. He says from all he was able to
discover, the bulk of the enemy's forces are in front of us, here on the
left. Where is that storming party? Somewhere on the right, I suppose,
unwinding red tape. I'll bet, if every officer in Banks' army, and
General Banks with them, was tied up in a bag and dumped in the river,
the privates could take Port Hudson in the next twenty-four hours.
_July 6, 1863._
_Monday._ Another hitch in the pay rolls, though made out as they always
have been since I had anything to do with them. The figures are right,
but the form is not. This time they are according to the new form and I
suppose will stay put. The Rebs are getting real saucy again. They have
taken to shooting at the men who carry rations to the men in the rifle
pits. Last night a darkey was carrying a kettle of coffee to Company E
and a ball struck the rim of the kettle, knocking one side against the
other, and also knocking down the darkey and spilling the coffee all
over him. Narrow escapes are an everyday occurrence. To-day a man took
off his hat to scratch his head. That brought the hat up in sight and a
rebel bullet went through his fingers, crippling his hand. Four men died
from sunstroke to-day. The weather is very warm though we have no way to
tell just how warm.
_July 7, 1863._
_Tuesday._ Hip, hip, hurrah! Vicksburg has surrendered. The news has
just reached us, although the place surrendered on Saturday at 10
o'clock. The gunboats got the news some way. The first thing was three
cheers from the men, and then three broadside salutes. Next, we have
shouted ourselves hoarse, and the news is passing along up the line to
the extreme right. The Rebs sent out a flag, to know what ailed us, and
were told the joyful news. Someway they didn't seem as glad as we are.
_Afternoon._ Our regiment and the Sixth Michigan have got marching
orders. I wonder what is up now.
_Later._ The Rebs have again threatened Springfield Landing and the
128th New York, the Sixth Michigan, and the Gray Horse Battery have gone
off on the double quick. We hear that 27,000 men and over 200 guns were
surrendered at Vicksburg. There is no doubt about it now. Details are
coming in all the time, and a whole lot of powder has been burned
celebrating. The Rebs on our front seem as glad as we, for they know
Port Hudson must surrender or be smashed between the forces of Banks and
Grant. The detail sent out towards Springfield Landing has come in and
reports the trouble all got along with. They didn't fire a gun. We are
happy to-night, about as happy as if Port Hudson was ours. In fact it is
ours, for they must give up now or catch it from front and rear at the
same time.
_July 8, 1863._
_Wednesday._ A flag of truce came out this morning, and after a short
council went back. We don't know what it means, but can guess it is the
beginning of the end of the siege of Port Hudson.
_Later._ The flag was to ask for twenty-four hours cessation of
hostilities, looking to a surrender. A few hours were given them to
think it over, and we put in the time comparing notes with the Johnnies
on our front. They are hard up for tobacco, and for bread. They have
plenty of corn meal and molasses, but very little else. I have given
away and swapped off everything eatable I have, and am going to make a
johnny-cake, for a change. The meal is as much of a treat for us as our
hard-tack is for them.
_Afternoon._ Port Hudson has surrendered and possession is to be given
at once. The story goes that only a few regiments will go in with the
staff officers to receive the surrender. We are so in hopes our regiment
will be one of that few. I am dying with curiosity to know what the
ceremony of a surrender is like, and I also want to see what the inside
of Port Hudson is like. The outside I know all I care to know of, but to
go away and not see or know how the place looks after the banging it has
had, is too bad. But there is no use thinking about it. Some higher
power will decide, and we have only to put up with it.
_July 9, 1863._
_Thursday._ In Port Hudson. Just as I was wondering what regiments would
be taken in to receive the surrender, and was worrying for fear ours
would not be one, the order came to pack up and go. We marched up to
General Augur's headquarters, and slept in the road last night. There
was a drizzling rain most all night, but this morning was bright and we
soon dried off.
We marched on towards the right until we came to a road that entered the
fort, but which did not show signs of recent usage. Here we formed in
the order we were to go in, the storming party at the head, then came
the 116th and 75th New York, and then the 128th New York. After us were
several regiments, about six I think, for I have seen members of that
many regiments here to-day. At eight o'clock we marched in, and I should
say went three-quarters of a mile, when we found the Rebs in line. We
marched along their front and halted, faced to the left, and stood
facing each other, some twenty feet apart. Both lines were at "order
arms." The officers held a short confab, and then took their respective
places, as if on parade. Our regiment was directly opposite "Miles'
Legion," or what is left of it. The commanding general then gave the
order, "ground arms." This was repeated by the company commanders, and
then for the first time I felt sorry for the brave fellows. If their
cause is not just, they have been true to it, and it must be like death
itself for a brave fighter to lay his arms down before his enemy.
However, I did not see any signs of tears. A detail was made to collect
and take care of the guns and ammunition, and the order came from both
sides to break ranks. In a twinkling we were together. I met the man I
had the corn meal from, and we put in some time together. The Rebs are
mostly large, fine-looking men. They are about as hard up for clothes as
we are. What clothing they have on is gray, while ours is what has been
a sickly blue, but is now nearly the color of the ground on which we
have slept so long. Some of them are glad the fight is over, and others
are sorry, at least that is the way they talk. They are asking all sorts
of questions about the thousand men who were to storm their works. They
think it the biggest kind of a joke. They have known all along much more
about what went on outside than we did about the inside. Their scouts
have been right among us, wearing the clothes of those they captured on
May 27. The officers, without an exception, appear like gentlemen, in
spite of the ragged clothes they wear. They have treated the prisoners
as well as they could, giving them the same sort of food they ate
themselves. Provisions are very scarce, and the men say they have had no
meat but mule beef for some time. A whole wagon train loaded with
provisions has come in and they eat as if famished. There are acres of
fresh-looking graves, showing that they have suffered as well as we.
They say, however, that few have been killed, considering the many
efforts made to kill them, but there has been a great deal of sickness,
which has caused the greatest destruction among them. There are about
500 in the hospital, sick and wounded together. They have suffered for
medicines. The wounded had to be operated on without chloroform, and
many died while being operated on.
The rebel soldiers are to be paroled, but what will be done with the
officers I have not learned. Some of the men say they will fight again
as soon as they have a chance, and others say they have had enough. The
majority of them that I have talked with feel that their cause will
finally lose, and they are for ending it now. There is a large space
covered with barrels of sugar and molasses and there is quite a quantity
of corn left. They have a curious mill for grinding the corn. A
locomotive stands on the track with the drivers jacked up clear from the
track. On the driver is a belt which turns a small mill and it looks as
if it would grind a grist as quick as any other mill. I have been
hunting about the place all day, and have seen many curiosities, or at
least things strange to me. The earth is honeycombed with cellars and
tunnels where the men hid themselves from our shot and shells. Along the
bluff facing the river are several savage-looking guns, made of logs,
smoothed off and painted so as to look exactly like cannon. The real
guns were all needed for use against the besieging army. We are looking
for a good night's sleep to-night. The guns that have made our nights so
miserable are all under guard. Things are settling down for the night
and I must stop writing. I have written every minute I could get and the
half is not told yet. If all goes well I will try again to-morrow.