Baton Rouge—Review by General Banks—March on Port Hudson—Passage
of the Batteries by Hartford and Albatross—Burning of the
Mississippi—Return to Baton Rouge—Wood-chopping—Embark for
Algiers—Easter Incident—Take Cars for Brashear—Berwick City.
Baton Rouge was alive with troops, belonging to every branch of the
service. Staff-officers and orderlies were galloping through the
town; quartermasters and commissaries were full of business; and
flags were waving continually from the signal-towers. A few citizens
were to be seen in the streets, grim and sullen; but they were almost
lost amid the blue-coats. The Thirty Eighth had orders to pack their
dress-coats, and all other articles except blankets, overcoats,
and a change of clothing. Old soldiers may smile at this idea of
“light-marching order;” but the men had not yet learned how little
baggage was necessary for comfort and health.
Wednesday, March 11, the iron-clad Essex, so famous in the annals of
Mississippi warfare, arrived at Baton Rouge, and was inspected with
much interest by the troops. This boat was the wonder and delight
of the contraband population; and amusing stories were told of the
effect produced upon both black and white Southerners, when she first
made her appearance before the city. Another examination was made in
the division now, and the sick men, and those unable to endure the
fatigue of field service, were sent to the hospital, and the command
stripped to its marching and fighting material.
Shelter-tents were issued on the 11th; and during the first march,
everybody carried tent-pins, with which to pitch them; and this
in a densely wooded country. The Thirty Eighth were proficient
in the manual of arms, and could go through battalion movements
creditably; but they were not yet soldiers. On the 12th, the division
was reviewed by Gens. Banks and Emory, accompanied by a large and
brilliant staff, Admiral Farragut being present, and the centre of
attraction. Although the knapsacks had been reduced somewhat, the
addition of the shelter-tents, and twenty extra rounds of cartridges,
made the load fall heavy enough to be on the back from eight in the
morning till one in the afternoon, when the review closed. The force
on the field consisted of thirteen regiments of infantry, three
batteries, and several companies of cavalry; and the review took
place on the old battle-field of Baton Rouge, near the spot where
Gen. Williams was killed, the marks of the bullets then fired being
still visible on the trees and fence-posts.
While at Baton Rouge, an order was issued by Gen. Banks, very
complimentary to the Thirty Eighth. After a severe rebuke of the
manner in which the officers of certain regiments had performed their
duties, as shown by the reports of the Inspector-General, the order
went on to say: “The Commanding General cannot forbear pointing to
the marked contrast indicated in the same reports concerning the
condition of the Thirty Eighth Massachusetts and the One Hundred and
Sixteenth New York Volunteers, enlisted at about the same time; but
carried, by the zeal and laudable ambition of their officers, beyond
the reach of this pernicious influence.”
Although very flattering to officers and men, it was afterward
thought that this order did not contribute much to the comfort of
the regiment when under the control of brigade officers whose own
commands were thus unfavorably contrasted with it. At six o’clock,
on the evening of the 13th, orders came to fall in; and the line
was formed in front of the Theatre. Being on the left, the Thirty
Eighth remained in line while the division moved by; and cheers were
exchanged, as the various regiments which had been connected with
the Thirty Eighth passed, the One Hundred and Sixteenth being loudly
greeted. When the time came for the regiment to move, Gen. Dudley,
whose quarters were opposite, addressed it in a few words, concluding
with, “Men of the Thirty Eighth, keep cool, obey orders, and fire
low.”
After leaving the city, and passing through the camps of Dudley’s
Brigade, which formed the reserve, and which was not to move until
the next day, the road led through dense woods, where the vines and
creeping-plants wove the forest into an almost impenetrable barrier,
which shut out every ray of light. The column made slow progress,
and the innumerable halts were as tiresome as the marching; but
about midnight, the bugles sounded a halt, and the army went into
camp for the night in a corn-field. When the rear of the column
reached the camp, the field was ablaze with camp-fires, and the fumes
of the coffee were rising in the air. Up to this time, the company
cook had done all the cooking, but each man had now to prepare his
own rations, or go without. Upon going into camp, the troops were
informed that the plantation belonged to a “Union man,” and that they
were only to take the “top rails” for fires. This order became a
standing one in the Nineteenth Corps, and, during the campaign, they
made it a point to take only the top rails, _as they found them_.
The men were too weary to pitch the new shelter-tents; and rolling
their blankets round them, all except the camp and picket guard were
soon asleep. The reveillé was beaten at two o’clock, and an early
breakfast cooked. By this time, the “top rails” were more accessible
than on going into camp.
At daylight, the march was resumed. The day proved to be a hot one;
and the roadside was soon strown with blankets, overcoats, knapsacks,
and other articles thrown away by the regiments in advance. It was
apparent that the army was rapidly coming down to light-marching
order. Contrabands hung on the flank and rear, picking up the
cast-off garments. Some of the men, not yet having made up their
minds to part with their overcoats, cut off the sleeves and skirts to
lighten their loads. After marching about eleven miles, the column
halted and went into camp in a cane-field, and stacked arms, a
picket being thrown out. The sun came down hot, and the shelter-tents
were found to be convenient. Toward night, the sound of heavy guns
was heard in the vicinity of Port Hudson, and the cannonading
continued through the night, while the shells from the gun-boats
could be plainly seen bursting over the fort. The reveillé was beaten
at four o’clock. The firing at Port Hudson had ceased; but a large
mass of flame, which had been supposed to be some portion of the
enemy’s works, set on fire by the guns from the fleet, began to move
slowly down the river, accompanied, at intervals, by explosions. All
eyes were fixed on the mysterious light, and many gloomy forebodings
indulged in. Had Farragut been defeated, and the fleet been destroyed
by some infernal machine? Or was this one of the marine abortions
of the enemy, committing suicide? Suddenly, at daylight, the mass
of fire seemed to leap high in the air, followed by a dense column
of smoke. The spectators waited in breathless suspense, for a few
seconds, for the explosion. Soon it came; and then every sleeper
started to his feet. Orders were issued to put out all fires, and
for every one to be equipped, and ready for action at a moment’s
notice. It was the general opinion that there would be a brush with
the enemy, if not a pitched battle; and the men were quiet, but
determined. But the morning wore away without an alarm; and, at ten
o’clock, the line was formed, and the column headed for Baton Rouge,
in which direction the wagon-train had already moved. The troops were
in ill-humor, the whole movement seeming incomprehensible to them.
Soon an aide from the commander-in-chief rode up to Col. Gooding
with an order, requesting him to announce to the third brigade
that the “Hartford” and the “Albatross” had passed the batteries
of Port Hudson, and that “the object of the expedition had been
accomplished.” Gradually, the men recovered their accustomed spirits;
and when Gen. Banks rode by the column he was heartily cheered. On
the march back, the carcasses in the fields showed that the reserve
brigade had been “living on the country.” The pontoon bridge was
reached before night, but was not crossed, the brigade marching into
the woods near the road, where they stacked arms and pitched tents.
Soon after dark, it began to rain heavily, and the camping-ground
became a swamp, while the water came through the new shelters,
leaving few dry soldiers in camp that night. The next day, at noon,
another expedition was undertaken. The roads were in a bad condition,
and, in many places, it was necessary to go in single file, to escape
being mired. After a four-mile march, a halt was made in a clearing,
where the command remained during the night, ready to spring to arms
at a moment’s notice, and, the next day, marched back to the bayou.
Friday, the line was again formed, and the brigade marched into Baton
Rouge, and through the city to a magnolia grove, a mile beyond. The
place was alive with mosquitoes, wood-ticks, and similar insects, and
the nimble lizards glided about, making themselves familiar; but the
men were too weary to study natural history, and were soon sleeping
soundly, in spite of such annoyances. The next day was devoted to
bathing, washing clothes, and resting. On Sunday morning (22d), the
regiment started again; and, after marching through all the swamps,
cane-fields, and hedges, bounding that part of the town, halted in
one of the most forbidding looking spots in Baton Rouge, about a
mile from the river, near the “Perkins Road.” A camp was laid out,
company streets staked off, and fatigue parties detailed to clear
away the rubbish, dig up the stumps, and fill the bog-holes. The
tents were pitched just in time to afford partial shelter from a
rain-storm. The men at this time had the impression that Sunday was
the day especially selected in the Nineteenth Army Corps, on which to
begin new movements, or do extra fatigue duty. In a day or two, the
regimental and company baggage that had been packed was returned, and
the A tents again pitched.
Saturday, March 29th, the regiment took its turn at chopping down the
forests in the vicinity of Baton Rouge, so that the guns from the
fort might have a free range, in case of an attack from the enemy.
Some could use the axe professionally; and all tried their hands on
the lofty oaks, beeches, and magnolias, whose fall resounded through
the forest, until the sound of the recall, at four o’clock, when the
regiment returned to camp, tired, but in great good-humor. Drill was
resumed, and the old routine of camp duties began; but this did not
last long, however; for the first day of April found the regiment on
board of a transport, again steaming down the Mississippi. Landing at
Algiers (opposite the city of New Orleans), a new camp was laid out,
the tents again pitched, and drilling went on as usual. Regiments
continued to arrive every day; and soon the plains of Algiers were
white with the tents of Emory’s division.
Here, for the first time since its organization, the regimental
camp-guard was dispensed with, and the men allowed a little liberty
to look around, and see the country they were fighting for. That they
did not abuse the confidence thus reposed in them by their officers,
may be inferred from the fact, that no regimental guard was placed
around the Thirty Eighth after that time; and when other regiments
were confined to strict camp-limits, Lieut.-Col. Richardson allowed
his command, when off duty, to roam anywhere within sound of the
bugle, and, when stationed near a town or city, freely gave leave of
absence when it did not conflict with orders from higher authorities.
At this time, the Forty Seventh Massachusetts was doing garrison
duty in New Orleans, and, having many acquaintances in the Thirty
Eighth, visited them often. The contrast between the nicely-fitting,
home-made uniforms of the Forty Seventh boys, and the shoddy affairs
furnished by the contractors to the Thirty Eighth, was a source of
much amusement to the members of the latter regiment. In the field,
clothing was a matter of little importance; but when a haversack
strap or a knapsack buckle broke at the beginning of a long march,
or the sole came off a shoe at a slight stumble, which very often
happened, the comments on the patriotism of those who provided for
the wants of the army were more expressive than elegant.
Although New Orleans and Algiers had been in the Union hands for over
a year, the feeling was still bitter toward the North. The following
incident will illustrate this feeling. The day before Easter, the
writer of this sketch had a few hours of leisure, and was strolling
through the streets looking at the objects of interest, when, passing
a small church, the sound of Easter hymns floated out on the air.
Not having been inside of a church for many months, the sweet music
brought memories of home to the mind; and, stepping noiselessly
inside, he stood near the door, listening respectfully. The choir
was engaged in a rehearsal, under the direction of a gentleman whose
white cravat and clerical air bespoke the minister. Suddenly, the
singers caught sight of the blue uniform, and the music instantly
ceased. Upon following the direction of their glances, the clergyman
cast what he evidently intended to be a withering look on the
unwelcome spectator. A silence of a few moments ensued, when the
soldier asked if he was intruding. “Yes,” was the reply, in a very
curt tone. Apologizing for the unintentional intrusion, the visitor
retreated, followed to the door by the chivalrous clergyman, who
probably took precautions to prevent his choir from being shocked by
the presence of any more blue uniforms, while singing the anthems of
“Peace on earth, and good will to men.”
Labor being scarce in Algiers, several regiments were called upon to
furnish fatigue parties to assist in raising a gun-boat on the ways
in the dry-dock; and, on the 8th of April, the Thirty Eighth took
their turn, and completed the task.
The regimental baggage was again packed away; and all personal
property, with the exception of a rubber blanket, overcoat, and
change of clothing to each man, was packed in the knapsacks, and
nailed up in large boxes; and at two o’clock, on the morning of the
9th, the reveillé woke the sleeping camp, the tents were struck, and,
by seven o’clock, the regiment was on board of the cars, bound for
the interior of Louisiana. For eighty miles, the road ran through
a low, swampy country. The ditches beside the embankment on which
the track was laid were full of alligators, who swam lazily through
the green, stagnant waters, or basked in the sun on the banks;
nearly every floating log or stick was tenanted by a repulsive
water-moccasin; and frogs of huge proportions plumped into the
water as the train went by. These specimens of the animate life of
Louisiana were regarded with much interest by the regiment, as they
were to be intimate neighbors, possibly, in the future.
The line of road was guarded by New York and Connecticut regiments;
and their post did not appear to be an enviable one. A little after
noon, the train arrived at Brashear City. The place was full of
troops; and others were continually arriving in the cars or on foot,
and crossing the bay to Berwick City. The Thirty Eighth formed in
line, the sick-call was blown, and another examination held; and all
those who were considered unable to keep up with the column were
kept behind, to do light guard-duty. Some who had been foremost in
every duty were left here, much to their regret. After waiting for
an hour or two, the regiment embarked on the gun-boat “Clinton,”
and was transported across Berwick Bay to Berwick City, accompanied
by Gen. Banks and staff, and the shelter-tents pitched in a level
field, where the clover was ankle-deep. A large force was collected
here, the troops of Emory’s division being joined to the veterans of
Weitzel, who had already achieved victory in this vicinity.