"iH v^E/ and frissons. TWENTY MONTHS IN THE DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. BY A- J. H. DUGANNE, *V/2L xfk_/ * / *7 .. A/^b^ AUTHOR OP " A HISTORY OF GOVERNMENTS ; " " FOOTPRINTS OF HEROISM ; " " WAB IK EUROPE ;" " A COMPREHENSIVE SUMMARY OF HISTORY ; " ETC. ETC. SECOND EDITION. NEW YOEK: J. P. KOBENS, PUBLISHES, 37 PARK ROW. 1865. TO R. E. FENTON, of the $tate of lew IN APPRECIATION OF HIS LOYAL LOVE FOR LIBERTY, AND HIS CARE FOR THE SOLDIERS OF OUR UNION, THESE 3STOTES ABE RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY 1*369638 INDEX OF CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I. Sea and Land 9 " II. The Crescent City 19 " III. Ordered to Lafourche 26 " IV. Lafourche Crossing 39 44 V. Thibodeaux and Terrebonne .... 49 VI. Tiger ville . . . ,. ^ -.- t : f . . 58 44 VII. Sporting in a Bayou . r . >,; ... 69 44 VIII. African Descent , f V . \. * '., , . {^ . ^ 76 44 IX. Berwick Bay . 98 " X. BrashearCity 108 " XI. Rebels in the Rear 11 6 " XII. Sabbath at Lafourche 122 44 XIH. Bayou Bceuff . . . . . . < . 130 " XIV. Rebel Schemes ...... 139 44 XV. The Capture of Brashear City . . . .146 44 XVI. Twenty-four hours 154 XVII. Captivity 169 " XVIII. A March to Shreveport .... 182 44 XIX. A Bayou Ambuscade . ... 191 44 XX. Franklin, on the Teche .... 203 44 XXI. Prairie Travelling 208 XXII. Crossing the Big Mary .... 215 XXIH. Entering Texas 220 44 XXIV. The Galveston Surrender ... 231 44 XXV. Sabine Pass . . , . . .243 44 XXVI. Camp Groce 251 41 XXVII. Sabine Pass again 258 " XXVIII. Life and Death at Camp Groce . . 269 CHAPTER XXIX. Falling Leaves 277 " XXX. Exodus . . !";. 282 " XXXI. Hempstead Hospital 289 " XXXII. Hospital Physiology . . . . 301 " XXXIII. Stage-Coach Stories . . . .316 XXXIV. On the Road 323 " XXXV. Camp Ford .. .'. . . .328 " XXXVI. A Celebration . ...*>^ r '^'"*l .408 ** XLIV. "Exchanged' ' \*ij :;*.<&. '\ 9 . 416 INTRODUCTION. The Writing and Publication of the following work result from a promise made by the Author to his comrades in exile as prisoners-of-war, to imbody certain interesting occurrences of CAMP and PRISON life, in a form which might recall mutual experiences and friendship. A review of leading incidents and affairs in the DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF, during 1863-'4 becomes necessarily interwoven with the narrative. Personal statements and actual obser- vations have alone furnished material for the book. TWENTY MONTHS IN THE DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. OH APT EH, I. SEA AND LAND. STORM and cold drift, with clouds of midnight, into far-away fog-banks of Labrador. Our good ship skims over Southern waves, and leaps before the " trades," for her haven in wide-rolling Mississippi. So, lying languid on quarter-deck, in golden sunshine, I dreamily remember long hours of state-room torture, endured while sea-sickness crouched upon my breast like the nightmare, and I would have bartered untold galleons of treasure, and fleets of golden-fleeced argosies, for a single gujp of greenwood air and a couch on terra firma. Now, thanks be to smoother seas, and a balmy foretaste of Southland, I feel neither burning nausea nor bh'nding vertigo, and can look down upon silver- winged nautili, and watch the polychrome scales of dolphins and quick-flashing fins of flying-fish, with se- rene self-consciousness of " getting on nicely," as our surgeon saith. So, then, over these gleaming waters, from day-spring till starlight, we look placidly into ever-receding hori- zons of cloudless azure. Some of us while the hours with books, and others tramp the deck, or lounge upon 10 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE the quarter, or haply doze through dream-land, from eight bells to dinner-time, and " so to bed," as ancient Pepys hath it. In good time, at morning watches, " Uncle John," my color-captain, dog-ears Les Miser- ableS) and (not in good time) his cabin-comrade, Cap- tain T., blows bugle-blasts that make les miserable^ of all of us. Meantime, perhaps, my burly chaplain spreads his ample base upon a corner of my wolf-robe carpet, and anon comes Captain McL., of " Massachu- setts Fourth," brainful of mathematic lore, to start conjecture as to the latitude of pirate Semmes and his ubiquitous Alabama. Suddenly " Sail ho ! " startles us into animation ; and the shrouds get presently black and blue with eruption of Sambos and sailors, crowd- ing and chattering, while bunks and berths give up their sleepers to share the new sensation. " Two things," said Fanny Osgood : " Two things break the monotony Of an Atlantic trip ; Sometimes, alas ! we ship a sea, And sometimes see a ship I " But our nautical cousin turns out to be some harm- less merchantman, and no terrible " 290 " this time ; whereupon, " Uncle John " and his lieutenant, " the Buffer," proceed to light their meerschaums, and the captains of hundreds, and their brave subalterns in command of squads and detachments, and all gallant adjutants, quartermasters, commissaries, and conva- lescents, take heart of grace, and descend to mess- tables, whence smell of savory sea-meats ariseth aroma- tically. Long since, on starjboard quarter, we saw the crest of Abaco Island sinking behind sun-tinted wave-comb- DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 11 ings, and looked back upon the " Hole in the Wall," bathed in ruddy glory, like painted oriel of some ocean cathedral. We are racing now, at twelve knots, with bountiful trade-wind stiffening our piles of canvas, till the ship rides on even keel, and her topsails are poised like sea-gulls. Thus, buoyantly, till land looms hazily over our bows, and the Floridas fling out their sand- tretches to greet us ; and so, south-westerly, througU' far-flashing gulf waters, till beaches and bars lie low before us, and we furl sails, at night, by the Pass a 1' Outre, with turbid waves surrounding, and beyond, through sunset mist, a glimpse of that Great River, which the old Algonquin tongue called MISI-SEPE. This storm-beaten pilot, who climbs over our wea- ther-bow from a frail shallop, that is wind-and-wave harried, like himself, might tell us concerning livelier times than this around the river-mouths ; might talk to us of fleets that used to cluster at these water-gates, with freights of " gorgeous merchandry " from all the isles and continents. But he waits in vain, this " an- cient mariner," for aught save transports nowadays, with stores of shot and shell, and " villainous saltpetre," and that other war-material described as "rank and file." He piloted iron-gloved Butler over yonder bar- riers, some nine months since, and can tell us, if he likes, how Farragut ran the gauntlet of rebel forts, and gave back our starry flag to the arms of the Father of Waters. But there is no call for pilot-yarns anent this brave old Viking, Flag-officer Farragut. He writes his auto- graph in " curve-lines of beauty," graven by shells and cannon-balls on rebel strongholds. Stout-hearted cham- pion of wooden walls, with honest, sailor-like scorn for all new " contraptions " of iron-clad rams and turret- 12 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE ed monsters! So, hereabouts, marshalling his old- fashioned mortar-fleet, under hard-hitting Porter, and flinging some hasty armor of chain-cable over the oaken sides of his war-vessels, he pipes all hands to quarters, at three o'clock in the morning, dashes, with full head of steam on, right into the teeth of rebel forts, and gun boats, and rams, and fire-rafts, and floating batteries and all infernal machines of torpedoes and destructives and, at noon, looks back on forts dismantled, rams, gunboats, and batteries sunk or captured, and the old flag streaming over ah 1 , to fly henceforth while flows the Mississippi. This was the style, nine months ago, in which bluff Farragut and Porter escorted Cyclopean Butler to his seat of government, the queenly Crescent City. No pilots waited clamorously on that fire-eating feat of passing Scylla and Charybdis in the shape of Castles Jackson and St. Philip. No tariff of port-charges, or rates of pilotage, at so much gold per tonnage, could have passed the Stars and Stripes beyond those frown- ing batteries ; but little recked Farragut of iron-clad embargo while his keels could cleave deep water. Therefore, flung he his ships, catapult-like, at the rebel barbacan, and swept this Mississippi channel, as Van Tromp, the Dutchman, swept a British one, with besom at his mast-head. And therefore, also, our valiant leader, General Banks, under whose notable banner myself and comrades float this day at the Passes, has found it not so difficult to follow whither single-eyed Butler led nine months ago. No hostile batteries now hold angry parley with a Union fleet, and indubitably it is pleasanter to hear blank cartridges exploded in one's honor than to breast a point-blank shot intended for one's diaphragm. So, I felicitate the successor of DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 13 General Butler, that case and shrapnel are no longer used in Jackson and St. Philip guns, to greet a coming Major-General. Morning breaks over wide lagoons and far-extending marshes. Presently, lashed fast to hoarse-puffing steam-tug, our good ship leaves Pass a 1' Outre, and glides by muddy channel-mouths, till the Balize ap- pears ; and thereafter we thump heavily over shallows and run forefoot into sand-bars, whence, being dragged away bodily by double tug-power, we at last slide safely into deeper streams, and thence past wave- washed beach and watery waste of sea-grass, and anon beneath the fortress-guns, and further up between rich banks of black alluvium, and, still further, drop- ping anchor under perfumed walls of orange-groves, beyond which shimmer roofs of palace mansions lapped in green plantations. So, haply, through vernal day and night, inbreathing sweets of myrtle leaf and rare magnolia bloom, till " English Turn " is reached, and we pass the battle-stone that marks where Andrew Jackson won his laurel-wreath. It was a rare game of Southern "bluff" that gave this river-bend the name of " English Turn," so saith our ancient pilot. When Iberville, or his brave frere Bienville, or some other notable vassal of le Grand Monarque, first sailed down this mighty river from far- away wilds of northern " Acadie," it was only to meet a fleet of British war- vessels laboring up the channel, and already within an imminent league or two of a lit- tle French encampment just located near the site oi what is now New-Orleans. " Turn back ! " shouted our Gallic explorer, hailing from his shallop-deck. " Wherefore shall I turn back ?" demanded the bluff 14 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE English commander, who had been the first European to toil from the Passes up thus far, and who, of course, deemed the country discovered for his British sove- reign. "Because," answered the crafty Frenchman, who had never been below this point at all, " because His Most Christian Majesty, Louis XIV., hath prior suze- rainty here, by right of discovery, and hath, moreover, divers fortresses above and inland to defend his right and ownership ! " " Say you so, Monsieur Frenchman ?" quoth the Bri- ton, quite non-plussed by such bold rejoinder ; " then must I needs turn back, since our nations be at peace, and yours hath the prior claim of colony!" And so, this simple Englishman turned back, with all his caravels, through the river-channels which he had been the first to sound, and our shrewd Iberville kept his shallop and his camping-ground, and presently thereafter founded, just above, the town of New-Or- leans. Thus, by a " bluff" game, were the British sent adrift, and this river-bend, where Gaul and Saxon met, has been known from that day to this as "English- man's" or "English Turn." And now, a century and a half since those French brothers, Iberville and Bienville, planted their Crescent City in a curve of the Great River, and only half a century since Andrew Jackson levelled his rifles on British lines, and saved this Crescent City from spolia- tion, we range our war-ships and transports, our squa- drons and batteries, to fight once more the immemor ial battle that the free must ever wage with despotism ' Sleep calmly in thy Hermitage tomb, thou loyal-souled Old Hickory ! Be sure that the conflict will still go on, as if thou wert here, as of old, to lead it. ... DEPARTMENT <^>F THE GULF. 15 And the end will be that which Eden witnessed when Lucifer measured his might with Michael, and the Archangel's " griding sword with discontinuous wound Passed through him." For it is all in vain, this rebel strife of evil against good ; night warring sunshine ; slavery fronting free- dom. Our treason that hath sowed the wind, will reap, ere long, the whirlwind. Satan stood awhile, we read, " Like Teneriffe or Atlas, unremoved ;" but soon the season came when he and his infernal host, constrained by wrath Divine, fell " subjugated " back, till at the last, " Headlong themselves they threw, Down from the verge of heaven." In the glow of sunrise, with aroma of tropical foliage ascending, incense-like, from river-banks, we glide quiet- ly past this slumbering empress city of the South. No longer sitteth she girdled with fleets of ships and gild- ed steamers, as of yore ; her lap of levees piled and overrun with cotton-bales, and sugar-hogsheads, and all immense and varied stores, tribute of half a conti- nent, brought incessantly from distant interiors, through bays and bayous, and by rivers and lakes, and upon highways and railroads, and in wains and flat- boats, and on cars and rafts, to fall at the feet of a royal commerce which commanded all the world. Drunken with wealth, at length, yet selfish with greed, and insensate with jealous hatred of the North, her benefactress, she cast her lot with treason, and " said unto evil, Be thou my good !" Therefore, this peace- ful morn, New-Orleans lies safe, but stricken, on the bosom of her great nursing-mother, the Mississippi. 16 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE The flag which was once her pride and her protection, protects her still ; but alas ! she hath now no pride in it. In her arrogance, she betrayed that banner, and it is now the sign of her abasement. So she sits in her ashes and sackcloth, for a space, till anon these mighty waters shall be stirred above her, and this river of her Sustenance will bring back to her bosom the offerings of other years the freights of white-fleeced wealth, the treasures of corn and of honey, whereon she waxed fat in her prime, ere the evil days fell upon her. Will she profit by the past ? Will she take warning from the present ? Thus musing, pacing with folded arms the quarter- deck, or leaning over taffrail, I behold the panorama of war-ships and gunboats and painted river-craft, and the far-between piles of bales and barrels on the levee, and the still city-streets, and the fields and plantations above, abandoned and desolate, unrolling gradually be- fore me, till, at .length, the mate's shrill treble rouses me from reverie, and I hear the sailors at the chains, and a sudden grinding of iron that tells of the anchor- fall. " This is Carrollton," observes my adjutant. " Are the men to disembark, sir ?" " I shall go ashore and report. We will await or- ders before landing the men." Dull and desperately muddy is this Carrollton* though, I am told, there are fine plantations stih 1 ex- tant in the neighborhood. A railroad track of seven miles connects the town with New-Orleans. Here are camps and depots ; and above, toward Lake Ponchar- train, some fortifications of increasing strength. A fine highway, called the Shell Road, intersects the vil- lage, and we new-comers are ordered to encamp on DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 17 fields which border it. Meantime " the windows of heaven are opened " abruptly, and rain descends like a deluge. So, under " adverse circumstances," as even Mark Tapley himself might consider them, we disem- bark from transport, and go into camp jollily. Now ensue great strife of tent-pitching in mud- sloughs and on overflowed bottom-lands ; deep flound- ering of mules and commissary-wagons ; swift goings to and fro of quartermaster and sergeants ; terrible objurgations of truculent teamsters ; curses, not low, of company caterers, over drenched " hard-tack " and ruined rations, with no fires to cook them withal. But at last, night-shadows fall ; " tattoo " is beaten, and somnolizing " taps " resolves our motley crowd into sheltered soldiers. At ten o'clock, no biped walks out- side the tents save rubber-blanketed sentinels, march- ing their lonesome rounds through wet and darkness. Sunrise, or the hour for sunrise, sees me stirring, seeking a more eligible site for permanent encampment. Here we are all afloat, and likely to remain so, if these pluvial skies continue over us. Beyond our lines I see a cavalry-camp, with horses picketed in pools and puddles. At our rear, the Massachusetts Fourth lies, somewhat fenced from freshet by the higher ground it occupies. Just past the Shell Road, I dis- cern a camp of " regulars," the men in ragged garb, and worn by recent hardships. They are the remnant of our gallant border troops, sold out to Texan prisons by a traitor, Twiggs, two years ago, and just released by cartel from their long captivity. So much for Car- rollton camps seen through water-spouts. Positively, also, there is no prospect of our discovering a better camping-ground in all these flat lands ; so I must even 18 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE compound with necessity, and accept matters as they are till the rain ceases. I retrace my steps after long search along the Shell Road, past the dreary cemeteries, with their gloomy cypresses, heavy and weeping ; past the cities of the dead, with mausolea of marble and masonry, rising tier on tier, wherein are packed away the relics of mortality ; palace-houses for rich dead, high above swampy soil, and safe from diluvial desecration ; trenches and holes for poor dead, below the watery surfaces. As in life, so in death ! Wealth to the high places poverty to the low ones ! DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 19 CHAPTER II. THE CRESCENT CITY. CREOLES, contrabands, coquettes, coffee-distillers. Of truth, chaos seems come again in this mart of all marts, the French market of New-Orleans. I am el- bowed by turbanned and bandannaed "aunties," of ebony aspects ; ogled by coal-eyed demoiselles in silk aprons, and leered at by copper- colored cuisiniers^ in cotton night-caps. I stumble over multitudinous egg- baskets, skirmish among itinerant orange-girls, tangle myself in labyrinths of nosegay venders. Thus explorative and perambulant, through stalls and over crossings, and around impassable trottoirs, this blessed Sunday morning of February, eighteen hundred and sixty-three, I scan with wondering eyes, these human hives, and mentally ejaculate : Is this an American city ? Peradventure not ! Assuredly this market-place is of no narrow, autochthonic type, but polyglot, cosmo- politan, and carnival-like with. "Jews, Turks, Tartars, Yankee Doodles, and Hindoos." Or, if Turk and Hindoo be wanting, and Tartars represented only by shrewish fish-wives, there is no lack, I aver, of as motley and outlandish moulds of hu- manity as ever wore turban in Stamboul, caftan in Ispahan, or sugar-loaf tile by the ghauts of Ganges. And here, clustering, chattering, chaffering; here, light-thoughted, mobile, effervescent ; the French and demi-French, the Creole, the Octoroon, the Quarteroon, 20 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE the Mulatto, and the sable-skinned, meet and jostle one another, as they have met and jostled any and every day during seven or eight-score years, since New- Orleans knew market-places. Here bubble into no- ticeable upper-light the real undercurrents of Crescent City alienism from Anglo-Saxon characteristics. Here congregate mercurial natures, perennially antagonistic to all plodding habitudes of Northern life to all gauge and plumb-line methodism of existence. Shrewd, doubtless, these people, in their business ways verita- ble bourgeoisie in trade instincts ; but, nevertheless, more given to stock and cotton-gambling than to downright labor of merchandising, whereby our North- men grapple fortune whether she will or no. Some time in the future, when the lessons of this war shall have been conned over wisely, there will be mixing of Northern phlegm with subtle fluids of more tropical mind and matter, and thereafter, doubtless, much noteworthy vitality and strength developed in South- ern trade as well as temperament. Till then, New- Orleans, like her Gallic market, must remain sui generis. Diverging, finally, from choked-up passages of traf- fic, and extricating myself from coils of muslin-capped "bonnes," and paper-capped "epiciers," and endless knots of Cubans, Mexicans, Nicaraguans, Peruvians, Brazilians, Frenchmen, Spaniards, Irish, Dutch, and Africans all jabbering, eating, drinking, smoking, and bargain-making I cross the street, and drop presently into the silence and solitude of Jackson Square, with its fresh foliage inviting to shade, and its cool turf tempting to repose. And here, with ancient recollec- tions rising, like ghosts around me, I may muse awhile, unheedful of the din and clatter of market-places, un- mindful of restless crowds shut out from me by walls of fragrant greenery. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 21 This massive monument before me, with equestrian Jackson reining his prancing war-horse on its capitals, and that brave legend underneath, which stern Old Hickory's life exemplified " The Union it must and shall be preserved !" How effigy and inscription both rebuke the shallow Treason and Rebellion that are crouching even now beneath this war-steed's hoofs ! But yonder French market cares less about Jackson than about Third Bon- aparte ; possibly ready, this morning, to toss caps for Napoleon " Protector," as it did, one year ago, for Davis " President." This Jackson Square was the Place d^Armes of the ancien regime, sacred to reminiscences of Gallic chiv- alry. The antique cathedral still overlooks it, flanked by prison and court-house ; and the bell that rang its founder's knell still tolls, each seventh-day sunset-hour so I have heard to call the priest below to offer mass for his poor soul who built it. Peace to his ashes ! Here, on river-banks were fought impromptu duels, melodramatically, with music and by moonlight. Here were trod stately minuets, in hoops and farthingales ; and here were danced boleros, with tambour and ban- dolin. Here landed martial youths from France ad- venturers in quest of fame or fortune, dreamers of El Dorados, seekers for Golden Fleeces. The ancient no- blesse of those splendid courts which blazed around Fourteenth and Fifteenth Louis, were wont to send their scions to these shores, where they might pass novitiate of arms, in wars against the Indian kings and werowances. Rude fields of knight-errantry were here, in olden days, when Choctaws, Chickasaws, sun-wor- shipping Natchez, and other red-skinned rangers of the 22 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE wild, disputed, step by step, the white man's usurpa- tions. This venerable pile overlooking me Cathedral of Saint Louis and this Place d'Armes wherein I medi- tate what stories they might tell of fetes and gay as- semblages, and grand processions, in the hundred years gone by since New-Orleans was sold or given away by France to Spain. This mighty river, also, making cres- cent-curve within its yielding banks ; how might it speak of Ponce de Leon, seeking elixir of life, and of brave De Soto, finding draught of death ; and of stout La Salle, sailing down from his Fort of " Broken Heart," and claiming all these lands and lordships, from Niag- ara to the Mexic Gulf, as realms and sovereignties of Louis the Magnificent. Then came the brothers Iberville, Bienville ; open- ing the eighteenth century with empire-founding on this crescent-curve, and wearing out their lives, and dying, at the last, heart-broken, like their predecessors, in the strife with iron destiny. Then Crozat waved his golden sceptre over the At- lantic, and would fain have mined for crown-jewels, and strewn them over thrones, and made his only child a queen to walk on them ; poor Crozat, merchant-prince, who dreamed of rearing up an empire in the Louisian- ian wilds that should be peer of France its mother ; ruined Crozat, who received the whole broad land by royal grant, and poured his treasures out like water, for its nourishment, till it brought him misery, as his recompense. Then rose John Law, the indomitable Law, the very necromancer of all golden sleight-of-hand and sudden fortune ; his glittering image of Finance, with feet of clay, bedded in Mississippi banks ! To him was given DEPAKTMENT OF THE GULF. 23 the ruined Crozat's fief of territory ; to him a royal bank charter ; to him the grand monopoly of a trading company, with power to swallow up and dominate all other companies in France ! Then loomed up in thef eyes of men that giant bubble, that immense, unreal, but dazzling will-o'-the-wisp, the Mississippi Scheme, that promised to make every stockholder a Croesus, and to enrich the whole soil of France with auriferous alluvion from swamps of Louisiana. Truly, our Father of Waters hath had strange foster-children in his day and generation ! There is no lack of romance in the history of those years when Louisiana was a protege of princes. Some time here- after, when rebellion shall have been mellowed down to the amber atmosphere of legendary lore, those ancient chronicles of Mississippi realms will be delved for as classic myths. Then, possibly, the wars of France, and Spain, and Britain, with the old Algonquin races, for this slime of bogs and bayous, will be harped upon by thirtieth century Homers, and embalmed in ballads that shall smell of nineteenth century mummy-dust. Whether this place d'armes may then be bulwark- ed in by cotton-burdened levee ; whether the sable helots that have toiled in field and ground in mill, to build up Crescent City grandeur, shall have stand- ing-room as men where now they cower as slaves ; whether, at last, the gold of freedom, fused in alembic of battle-fire, and tried by subtile test of martyr-blood, shall shimmer, thrice-refined, before the face of na- tions may be, or may be not, a Sphynx-riddle, to ex- ercise our skill at present-day divination. But, O Gali- leo ! the world moves ! t The Mississippi flows to the Gulf the Gulf-stream cleaves its ocean path; and neither stream nor river can return again one single 24 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE atom of the dirt, the debris of a thousand banks washed in their watery courses. So flow the rivers and the ocean-streams of human progress, laving lands, and climes, and continents, and washing, mining, wearing off great banks of wrong, that nevermore can be brought back, while roll the waves of time ! I walk, pensively, from Jackson Square, pausing a moment at the gate, to glance at gliding figures of de- vout French Catholics, that disappear within the dusky portals of the old cathedral opposite some maiden hurrying to early mass ; some sinner to confession ; some feeble grandame hobbling on her cane ; some mother sprinkling little ones from font of holy water in the porch. Along the pavement, then, beneath the eaves of antique houses, I pursue my walk ; perhaps with inward marvelling at the open shops, so novel to our Northern eyes ; boutiques of jewellers, with flash- ing bijouterie piled behind plate-glass, and magazins of costly stuffs, for eyes of female sinners wending church-wise, and entrepots of fancy wares and tinsel gewgaws ; all displayed beneath the Sabbath sun, to tell a Yankee stranger that he sees New-Orleans. I ask myself whether the influx of Northern soldiers and society fresh from healthful restraints and thought- ful of " steady habits," may not speedily have influence on these looser customs of a demi-foreign city. I am answered by clatter of horse-hoofs and rattle of car- riage-wheels, as a cortege of gay-uniformed staff-officers in saddle, and of light-robed demi-monde in cabriolets, whirls round the corner, and away to Shell Road racing, and, anon, to Sunday orgie at Lake Pontchar train ! I speculate not much, therefore, on good ex amples brought with shoulder-straps. General Butler, in the past, I hear, was charged DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 25 with many sins by rebels and their parasites. I doubt, however, if that democratic chief did ever entertain such masques of gold-foil folly as now revolve around our two-starred (I had almost written ill-starred) new com- mander. Such dazzling double coils of gilt cord and red tape ! such cyclopaedic volumes of the art of war off duty ! I think this Gulf Department must have store of " rule or rum " in its future, if headquarters and its soldier-civic purlieus be prognostic of events. I fancy this Crescent City may, ere long, be a paradise for paymasters who, on majors' stipend, shall get rich betimes ; and that quartermasters here, on captains' pay, shall win their Golden Fleeces easier than Jason did. Meantime, the Sabbath wears ; and St. Charles's Rotunda, prodigal of tinselled and close-buttoned uni- forms, and atmosphered with light tobacco-clouds, looks down on jaunt of pleasure-crowds, and opens doors to welcome all who pay. Hotel and city true coquettes of fortune ! Both beckon and embrace the Northern stranger, while both are rebel at the heart. But, thanks to Northern souls and arms, this great Rotunda is no more a slave-mart ! Yon castaway block of stone, that once was pedestal for human statuary sold to highest bidders, will never bear its sable shame again. The padlock and the chain, the scourge, and yoke, and handcuff, and this idol-block, whereunto souls and bodies of a wretched race were sacrificed thank heaven! they lie as rubbish now, cast out, with racks, and torture-wheels, and " ques- ! tions " of the past, to be accursed for ever! 26 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE OHAPT ER III. ORDERED TO LAFOURCHE. AN orderly dashes up to my tent, with missive from Headquarters. " You will report immediately to Gen- eral Emory." I sally out at once, and lose myself in darkness of boggy fields and foot-paths lately submerged by the rain-deluge. Nevertheless, accomplishing the distance between the General's quarters and my own, I present myself before him with due alacrity. He is a stern- looking man, middle-aged, who in his youth, doubtless, was handsome. Engaged with an Adjutant, inditing orders and dispatches, he looks up as I enter, nods, and points to a chair. General Emory has a good record of past service before the war. He directed a military reconnoissance in Missouri and California, publishing a graphic volume of Notes thereon, some sixteen years ago ; and his official reports to Government on the Gold Regions, and as historian of the Mexican Boundary Commission, are of interest and value in a literary point of view. So, waiting here for orders, I regard the physiognomy of my General sympathetically, both as soldier and author. Camp gossip gives General Emory a reputation for rigor in discipline painting him as a rough and gruff, bashaw-sort of commander; but I fail to notice any traits of martinetism in his serious lineaments. Curi- ously, however, an anecdote told by onr volunteer DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 27 " boys " about the General crosses my mind at this moment. They had been demolishing fences, as usual, these brave boys, gathering firewood for coffee-boiling ; and, as usual, likewise, those innocent sufferers, the "se- cesh " planters, had complained to the General of their grievances ; whereat a special order issued from head- quarters. It recited the enormity of " depredations," the necessity of "inflexible discipline," the duty of officers and men to respect the " rights of property." It concluded by restricting all wood-foraging in future to the " top-rails of fences." The boys found those top-rails very readily, we may imagine. In fact, to quote their own vernacular, they " couldn't find any thing else but top-rails." " At what hour can your regiment march to-morrow morning, Colonel?" asks General Emory abruptly; whereat I collect myself, and reply pertinently : " At nine o'clock, sir ! " " Very well ! I admire your promptness, sir ! How many do you report for duty ? " " Seven hundred, sir." " I shall send you where ' Yellow Jack ' may have a chance at them." " We shall be prepared to do our duty, sir, wher- ever we go." " I hope so ! I have no doubt, sir ! You will strike your tents and be ready to march as early as possible to-morrow morning, with two days' rations, sir." . . . A pause. " Any other orders, General ? " " You will get them in the morning. Good-night, sir." (Giving his hand.) " God bless you ! " So saying, the General dismissed me, and I returned 28 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE to camp from a first visit to headquarters, and a first interview with General Emory. Next morning, in a dispatch by him to General Banks at New-Orleans, my command was noticed for prompt and satisfactory re- sponse to orders. Great bustle of preparation that night among offi- cers and men of the regiment ; much use of " strange oaths," I fear, in connection with mud, rain, and dam- aged rations. Morning and nine o'clock come duly, but no orders yet. I dispatch my Adjutant to report at headquarters our readiness to march. Presently thereafter, Colonel N arrives at camp from the city, bringing orders for immediate inspection, pre- paratory to the making out of pay-rolls ; a welcome intimation to the men of long-deferred disbursements. We hasten the ceremony, and get through famously ; so that " high twelve " sees us ready for the road ; whereon, rejoicingly, we bid good-by to Carrollton, and presently depart, carrying much of its saffron soil away with us, on boots and breeches. Not off yet, however. Slow-dragging wagons, on miry roads, with much loading and unloading of regi- mental baggage, tents, ammunition, and the like im- pedimenta, protract time wearisomely, till it is dusk be- fore our transport casts off cable from the shore, and steams, with freight of soldiers, down the Mississippi. Algiers is our landing-place, there to reembark on cars for interior destination ; and, after tribulation at depot, and great clamor for absent railway agent, who at length appears, sleepy and snappish, we stow ourselves miserably in freight-boxes, inch-deep with mud and molasses-drippings, and thereafter are lumbered away by a husky locomotive on special train of New-Orleans and Opelousas Railroad. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 29 Algiers is opposite the Crescent City ; and this rail- road, having eastern terminus here, must describe nearly a westerly, or perhaps south-westerly, course, to its other teminus, at Brash ear City, on the shore of Berwick Bay ; now the outpost of our military occu- pation westward. General Weitzel, with about four thousand Americans, holds Brashear City, fort, and camps ; while opposite, at Berwick City, rebel batter- ies are planted, with an unknown force of Louisianians, Texans, Arizonians, who maintain the Teche and At- takapas country, from Berwick Bay to Red River. .This Opelousas Railroad is at present a misnomer, whatever it may promise in the hereafter of Southern stock-jobbing. Positive drubbing of rebels, and much provost-governing of Franco-Yankee parishes, must be accomplished, before Union arms and arts shall reclaim that garden of Louisiana which lies between the lakes and wealthy Opelousas. Leaving Algiers, and its closely-settled neighbor- hoods, we steam through leagues of fertile country, marked by rich plantation-lands, some desolate and weed-grown, others thriving still, with goodly surety for the future. We traverse parishes Jefferson, St. Charles, and Lafourche, stopping at stations guarded by blue-coated infantry from staid Connecticut, whose bayonets gleam at every bridge and platform. Here, between Raceland and Bayou des Allemandes, the guerrillas attacked a train, some seven months since, killing and wounding several brave Vermonters. It is to foil the plots of bridge-burners and raiders from the rebel parishes above, that constant vigilance is neces- sary on this Opelousas Railroad line. Whether such meagre squads as we have passed thus far, could be of much account against a rebel foray, may, at least, be 30 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE doubted. Scarce one thousand men, attenuated over eighty miles of rail, could hardly hold their ground against a stout attack from rebels " to the manor born," who know each inch of vantage. Suddenly a halt, and then a slow advancing over bridge-timbers. We have reached our depot of des- tination ; and I look out of car- window on broad ex pmse of bayou-water, hemmed by levee-shanks, OL either side of which are lower grounds, here cultivated, there a swamp or thicket. Near the railroad track are clumps of negro-huts, the homes of " contrabands," whose dark irruption presently fills up door and win- dow-frames, and overflows upon the fields and levee. Here, by the station, are dilapidated warehouses, a tenantless hotel, once " fashionable," and, perhaps, a half-score straggling domiciles, fronting the bayou- bank. A quiet, dull, deserted-looking place, despite the transient animation of a train-arrival. But here is to be our camping-ground, and I hasten to reconnoitre. It is the railroad crossing at Bayou Lafourche, where, dumped from cars, amid litter of tents, deal-boards, commissary chests, and boxes filled with ball-and-pow- der stuff, my moiety of the regiment, called " Iron- sides," remains to guard the bridge and its approaches. "Not unsupported, as it seems, however ; for just be- low the levee-banks are lines of tents, and the head- quarters-flag of Colonel H 's regiment flaps yon- der at an ample house-porch. Lafourche Bayou is one of those broad arms of the Mississippi, which stretch out from its giant breast, be tween the Red River and lower lakes. Effluent neai the " ville" of Donaldson, and taking in its course three other " villes," Napoleon, Labadie, and Thibodeaux, it strikes this railroad-bridge a mile below the last- DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 31 Darned town, and thence flows south and easterly, till it debouches through Mississippi delta and is lost in the mighty Gulf of Mexico. Hard by its outlet, lies Barataria Bay, where pirate folk of old La Fitte and others " o' that ilk " were wont to rendezvous. Numberless are the secret coves, and hidden creeks, and intricate islet channels which fringe the gulf shores near these bayou-mouths ; and, indeed, such haunts for water gentry are patent to this coast, from Mississippi Passes to the Sabine bars that shift on Texas shallows. " There be land-rats and water-rats water-thieves and land-thieves" on all these bottoms and lagoons, in spite of our blockading squadrons; and, if "contra- band " tales be not all apocryphal, there ' are cotton- bales enough smuggled between Mobile and Galveston to purchase stores and ordnance for the whole rebel Confederacy. In peace times, Bayou Lafourche was gay and Galli- can with pleasure-steamers and watering-houses. Then Thibodeaux, the parish seat, was a distingue town, holding its head up among rural districts ; and its wealthy creole residents and planters hereabouts could sip their cafe and claret like " grands seigneurs," as they aspired to be. But, " Helas ! " as Monsieur says, with a shoulder-shrug, " la guerre ! on a change tout cela!" Very true, my dear Planters ! This war has played the mischief with all your luxurious security ; but you have yourselves to thank for the change, and must needs make the best of it. That, at least, is the verdict of my cook George, yellow in epidermis and African in descent, who has lately emancipated himself from some Lafourche " owner," and is quite satisfied with his portion of the war-changes. 32 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Half a century ago, this Lafourche country promised comfort and competence to a hundred thousand white men, who, settling here, with skill and toil, might build up homes for free-born families. But speculat, ing Capital came also to this treasury of cotton and sugar ; and thereafter the curse of " adding field to field " laid grasp upon the future. So, up to our war- advent, the soil had been monopolized and swayed by Landlordism, with its huge estates and negro-swarms, while ignoble " free labor " yielded acre after acre, and foot by foot, till it is now crowded back into the swamp-bottoms, squalid and ague-stricken. In their day, the planters of Lafourche have lived like nabobs. None dashed it with a higher head or freer hand in St. Charles's rotunda or salons of New- Orleans than the cotton or sugar lord of this favored district. None lost or won his golden rouleaux at faro, or sported his blooded horse-flesh at Metairie courses, or squandered his thousands on wine and women in the metropolis, with more abandon than your creole planter from the rich Lafourche, who counted his slaves by hundreds, and his income by tens of thousands. This purple-and-fine-linen-clad gen- tleman has come to grief since rebellion days, and of his cash, cotton, and " contrabands " " helas ! " " the places that knew them know them no longer ! " Nevertheless, there be notable landmarks left of the style in which this princely planter flourished. You white-wooled patriarch of ebon hue, whose rheumy eyes are watching me, might tell brave tales of " Ole Mauss' Charles " and " Young Mauss' Henry " in the olden time. And yonder white-walled mansion down the bayou, bosomed in a grove of dark-green figs and myrtles, and bright-gleaming oranges, and clambered DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 33 over by a maze of hyacinths and sweet geraniums, and hedged with white japonicas, magnolia-clumps, and trellised jonquils, kissing a dried-up fountain ; if its walls could speak this lonely house what secrets of luxurious Southern life might I be master of! But the old drivelling slave, and the palatial dwell- ing which his life-long labor helped to build, are alike abandoned by their rebel owners. The maelstrom of secession dread agency of Nemesis for myriad crimes and follies in the past has gulfed the barons of this haughty Southland, and their serfs alone remain to point out mouldering roof-trees of the ruined " masters." I leap into saddle and gallop about the grounds of this " Johnson place." The flowers are choking under grasp of rank weeds. The rare fruit withers on un- pruned limbs. The garden-walks are tangled, and a garden-roller, in my path, is overrun with wild honey- suckles. Grass grows stirrup-high on the once beauti- ful lawn. Out over the fields, with slackened bridle, I pursue the plantation-road, passing through miles of rotting cane, decadence of ungathered crops. I reach the negro-quarter, with its compact hamlet, and pass the mill and sugar-houses, with their ponderous machinery, vats, and bagasse troughs. It is all bagasse now ; all refuse and rubbish of the past. An aged black is sunning himself at a hut-door, and rises, with a polite bow, as I draw rein before him. " What is your name, Uncle ? " (All old negro men are " uncles " in this country.) "Antoine, sah." " Do you belong to this place, Antoine ? " "Yes, sah I stops bar! me an' de ole Aunty." 34 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE " Did you live long with Mr. Johnson ? " " Yes, mauss' shore I did ! I lib'd har with Mauss' Johnsing dat was 'fore he run'd away, sah ; 'fore de missis run'd away, sah ! " " How old are you, Uncle ? " " Dunno zackly, mauss." I'ze a berry old nigger shore ! " " How many of your people are living here ? " " 'Clare I dunno zackly, sah ! Dar's a heap o' ole darkies t'oder side de cane, sah ! " I ride on, past the sheds and out-buildings. Doors are swinging from jambs ; roofs are falling in. Through broken window of the sugar-house I see huge vats, half filled with molasses thousand s of gallons soured and crusted with dust. A plough, nearly buried in sand, is climbed over by tough grass, like the garden-roller which I noticed near the " great house." All things smell of neglect. Another gray-wooled negro approaches. He holds his hat in hand, discovering a wide forehead, strongly marked features, intelligent eyes. I inquire his name, and learn that he is known as " Uncle Phil ;" that he is a plantation-preacher; that he was formerly a slave and overseer's assistant on the Johnson estate. " You must know all about the place then, Uncle Phil?" "Yes, sah!" (Uncle Phil speaks good English, with but little twang of negro patois.) "I've lived in this Lafourche country sixty years, sah. It was a grand country for rich white people, sah ! " " You were an old servant of Colonel Johnson, I suppose." "I was one of his SLAVES, sah!" rejoined Uncle Phil in an impressive tone, as he looked up at me. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 85 " Was the Colonel a good master, Uncle Phil ? " " As far as slavery let him be, sah ! " answered the old negro in his self-possessed way, that seemed to as- sert a conscious but suppressed power in the speaker. I began to get interested in my colloquist, and, beck- oning a woolly-pated urchin from one of the cabin- doors, threw the bridle of my horse to him, while I dismounted beside Uncle Phil. " You are so well acquainted with the plantation," I said, " it would gratify me to walk about with you." Uncle Phil touched his weather-stained palmetto hat, and led the way through stacks of out-houses, from saw-mill to sugar-mill, displaying to my interested gaze the troughs, the coolers, vacuum-pans, and mighty iron kettles, the reservoir of syrup, piles of hogsheads, damp with mould, the broken cane-wagons, the shat- tered " carrier " that once bore its saccharine freight from field to engine-house. "You understand this business well, Uncle Phil," I remarked, while listening to the negro's brief and lucid explanations of the complicated sugar-working process. " I was sugar-maker here for many a year, sah," an- swered Uncle Phil. " You could carry on a sugar-plantation yourself," I suggested. " I think so," responded the old man, quickly ; " at least, so far as sugar-making goes ; I understand ihat^ sah." I looked about me over wildernesses of weeds and parasitic plants that were invading the Johnson estate strangling its former life of bloom and fruitage. I sur- veyed the lonesome negro-quarters, the dismantled enginery, the fest-decaying sugar-mill. I recalled the 36 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE fact, that thousands of such broad plantations, with their wealth of soil and means of facile labor, were, like this one, given over to destruction ; while the toil- ing people who had made them Edens of productive- ness, were cast out on the highways or compelled, like Uncle Phil, to eke out bare existence on the scanty promise of a stunted corn-crop. I hazarded another conjecture : that Uncle Phil might manage a hundred of his fellow-laborers without using whip or stocks ; and that he could, peradventure, make as much sugar with them as his quondam owner did in " flush times " of Lafourche parish. The negro turned, and steadily met my glance. " I think, sah," he replied, " that a hundred MEN might do as much as a hundred SLAVES ! " " You suppose, then, that emancipated slaves could carry on the labors of these plantations now lying idle?" " Give us the chance, sah ! " cried Uncle Phil, with sudden sparkle of eye and lifting of voice. " Give us the opportunity to do what we can do, and do it for ourselves, sah, and you'll know that free work is better than chained work ! All we ask, sah all I want for my people, sah is to be rid for ever of MASTEKISM ! " It is impossible to convey by words the singular ex- pression, the peculiar meaning, mingling scorn and hatred, which that one word, " masterism," seemed to bear, as uttered by this negro sugar-maker. For my- self, I realized that a volume of abolition speeches might have less of pith and power. And here I opportunely recollect that Lafourche parish is one of the " excepted M districts of Louisiana, wherein " slavery " is still extant and recognized by Presidential proclamation; so that Uncle Phil would DEPAKTMENT OF THE GULF. 37 still be slave of Colonel Johnson, should that gentle refugee return and make his peace with our forgiving Government. Emerging from the ruined sugar-mill, I pass the negro-huts again. A score of feeble and decrepit blacks look out at door and window. They regard me timidly, but smile and nod at Uncle Phil with obvious deference. He is their preacher, their leader, their ad- vocate, poor souls ! who have no advocate or friend beside, in the great world of war and diplomacy. And here, in spite of plausible plea of conciliating planter interests spite of kid-glove fingering of slav- ery-issues, whereby the Louisiana of General Butler is to be made the Louisiana of General Banks I think I see in Uncle Phil, and such as he, the real sub-strata of an honest governmental policy. I discern the "juste milieu" whereby these great estates, abandoned by their traitor owners, might be saved at once from greedy camp-followers and from perjured agents of their late proprietors. I imagine each broad planta- tion, with its vast machinery, confided to the hands which earned and paid for all the wide improvements. I fancy a " sugar-maker " like Uncle Phil still watch- ing over every reservoir, and backed by wise authori- ty, assisted by selected men of science and of hon- esty jyoducing wealth for Government large profits to the power that breaks his chain and gives him man- hood in exchange for slavery. I see a grand militia, armed and drilled upon these green savannas ; no long- er chattel-souls, but conscious of their strength and numbers, marching to the cane and cotton-fields by tap of drum, and guarding bridge or railway line with ready rifles, and with surer knowledge of the ground than ever can be gained by Northern regiments. 38 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE But, this is day-dreaming ! Who will lift up these Uncle Phils to independent toil while speculators hover, like so many vultures, in our army's rear ? Who will drill these negroes into semi-military laborers on their old plantations, and make of them an " army of occupa- tion " for the soil which white men shall redeem from Treason's despotism ? I must suppress these fancies, lest I be accused of treason likewise treason against the policy of " conciliating planters." DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 39 CHAPTER IV. LAFOURCHE CROSSING. CAMPED at Lafourche Crossing, I begin to look about me. Colonel H , of Twenty-third Connecticut Volunteers, being senior field-officer of the troops guarding this line of railway, acts as Brigadier-Gen- eral of the two regiments. He occupies a snug man- sion, deserted by absconding rebel owners, and the tents of a couple of his companies are pitched around him. The Colonel is an active, efficient commander, comprehending his position and the people hereabouts, and placing as much faith in " professed " Unionism as the actions of those professing entitle them to com- mand. He has a lively contempt wherein I confess to share very heartily for provost-marshals who hunt runaway negroes, for camp-followers who lease planta- tions, and for quartermasters who set up sutler-tents. This New-Orleans and Opelousas Railroad con- ducted under governmental auspices, superintended by a Federal field-officer, inspected at divers points by captains and lieutenants, who demand your passports, and watched by pickets and sentinels, who " present arms " at the bridge-crossings is an expensive public luxury in these times of non-production in freights and of free travel in soldier-clothes. Its eighty miles of well-constructed track connect Algiers with all the back plantations, and in peaceful days they drained a country rich in generous harvests, and mobile with busy traffic. Thibodeauxville, the shire-town of Lafourche, 40 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE was growing visibly before the war ; and even this dull "Crossing" was a famous summering-place, where steamboats, plying from Baton Rouge and New-Or- leans, were wont to fly their gay bunting, and where sporting gentry came to eat buffalo-fish and drink Bur- gundy, while alligators splashed the mud beneath their window-sills. Two miles upon the road to Thibodeaux, I ride past broken gateways, despoiled shrubberies, and disman- tled outbuildings of an estate that was once a sump- tuous residence, owned by the traitor, General Bragg. Both northerly and southerly from my camp are many noble country-seats falling to decay ; their owners ex- iles in their native land, wielding the rebel's sword, as generals, colonels, majors, in confederate armies, while their families crave shelter in some district safer than their own from " Yankee vandalism." Misled and mis- erable people ! their folly bears with it a fitting retribu- tion. Betraying the government which protected them, they dared not trust their families behind; and so, abandoning both home and country, they invited strangers to their hearths and plunderers to their pos- sessions. Yet, notably, I have more respect for these self-exiled zealots in a wretched cause than for a class of time-servers who, by the easy mouthing of a " loyal oath," have kept their fine plantations unmolested; more politic knaves, who, when secession flourished, were foremost of the herd that swore by " Southern rights," and vowed eternal hatred to the "tyrant North." Heartily do I despise, as I do most religiously distrust, such double traitors, who so loosely wear their sheep-skin of allegiance that the wolf snarls out be- neath it as they crouch. But all these " oath-bound " patriots are to be "conciliated" by the kid-gloved DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 41 scheme of mild manipulation now in favor with OUT Gulf authorities. These " Union men " are ah 1 to be " attracted " back by sugar-gilt upon the pill of Fede- ral government. Unworthy policy, and doomed to be a failure ! The rebel viper must be grasped in iron gauntlet, and its sting extracted by a resolute hand, or burnt out, if it be necessary, by fiery caustic. These renegades, who buy impunity by an oath, are either true or false to the Union. If they swear truly, they cer- tainly require no new " conciliation," since the govern- ment is of their choice. If they be not the loyal men they seem, but traitors who have sworn a lie, let them abide by it ; and if they will not, let them suffer for their double treachery. My quarters at Lafourche are in the old hotel ; a ventilated building, whereof no door hath complement of hinges, and no window-frame can boast a tally of its panes. But there are separate rooms some dozen ; and in each the wood-work of a once pretentious bed- stead ; so that myself and staff have shelter and retire- ment. Rearward of this palatial pile, the camp of my " command " extends triangularly upon a plot of mea- dow, skirted by a little " collect " of the bayou oozings, just below the railroad grade. Beside this sluggish sluice the "boys" have ranged their tents, built cook- houses, and reared a flag-staff, whence the Stars and Stripes wave gallantly. Intrusive water-moccasins, and other serpents of the Southern slime, are rather trou- blesome to bed and board as yet ; but soldiers soon get snake-skin belts thereby, and speculate already on prospective boots of alligator-hide, contingent on the visit of some " cayman " from the neighboring swamps. Our surgeon, careful and discreet, selects betimes his 42 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE regimental hospital, locating it beyond the camp-lines, in that fine old mansion of the Johnson family. This Colonel Johnson, I am told, is nephew of the famous "Richard M.," who " killed Tecurnseh," as the ballad says. He is in service of the rebel government, and upon his " place " are only left those few poor negroes driftwood, like old "Uncle Phil" who have sur- vived their master's awful shipwreck. Other human fragments lie in limits of Lafourche, however debris of the old-time "masterism;" scat- tered or huddled here about the " Crossing." Their rude huts near the track, that shelter scores of women, children, and disabled men, are likewise marked, like shops of pawnbrokers, with dumb mementoes of a ruined " upper class." Old damask-covered sofas, bro- catelle chairs, and rosewood bedsteads, tarnished now and broken ; cracked vases, fragments of rich glass and China wares ; torn linens and bedraggled silks, that once adorned the mistresses, now mocking misery in the hovels of their slaves. All shreds like these, of former luxury, may now be scanned and pondered over in this negro camp beside the railroad crossing. Men, women, urchins, huts, rags, wretchedness the dust- heap of a worn-out " caste system " that never more will rise to rule again. Orders arrive from General Weitzel to detail a com- pany of my command for " provost- duty " in the parish of Lafourche ; and so I send to Thibodeaux that " free companion," Captain II , with valiant Dutch Lieu- tenant K , to quarter on plantations in true provost fashion. Sundry scruples have I, nevertheless; be- cause this brave gar^on H bears reputation of truc- ulent " abolitionism," and I fear some outburst of his liberty-loving spirit may clash with shrewd " concilia- DEPAKTMENT OF THE GULF. 43 tion " plans of our chief General. But here a skeptical staff-officer wags his head and smiles at my anxiety. " Colonel," he says, " you think our free-tongued Captain may be too outspoken for these slave-lords on plantations." " I apprehend his Northern principles and bold opin- ions on the slave-question may cause some rash ex- plosion." "My dear Colonel," quoth the staff-officer, laying hand upon my arm, "just wait a bit. Before the week runs out, our abolition Captain will be hand-in- glove with slave-owners, and as tender-toned upon the ' divine institution ' as the smuggest doughface of a Northern pulpit." " You cannot mean that the Captain will abandon his avowed hatred of slavery ! " " Wait, Colonel, and let time answer. If a provost- captain can be made from an abolitionist, I'll wager that a tolerable pro-slavery man can be made from the provost-captain." And it turns out so. My courteous Captain pres- ently- takes unto himself pleasant relationships with much-abused planters, and with widowed proprietress- es of elegant mansions and sugar estates, and with ladies whose husbands and brothers are rebel generals, colonels, and the like ; whereafter all awkward North- ern prejudices concerning Southern institutions are gracefully waived in deference to that " good society " into which our provost- captain is post-prandially in- ducted, and the quondam " abolitionist " becomes votre tres humble serviteur to all the Creole barons and baronesses who choose to smile on him. I do not overdraw the sketch, O freedom-loving friends of mine who read these pages! The entire 44 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE system of provost-marshal rule, with its detailed regi- ments and companies, its plantation-guards, its rebel passports and protections, not to speak of vile abuses, covering tyranny, and theft, and frauds, and traitorous collusions, has been fruitful of the worst results wher- ever exercised in unrestricted scope. And of what re- strictive power are written, sometimes verbal, orders, over officers whose very office must be more or less an irresponsible one, based as it is on military absolutism, and liable to be wielded for the personal ends of him who holds its brief but potent tenure of authority ? Here comes to me from Thibodeaux from provost- marshal of the parish, ranking first lieutenant of some regiment, wherefrom he is " detailed on special duty " here comes, I say, an order to deliver up a negro man or woman, servant of a captain in my regiment. The bearer of this order is a Creole planter, very red in face and fierce of speech, who vows that he will have his slave by provost-marshal dictate and authority, whether I will or not. Behind him march two blue- clad soldiers, with the number of my regiment upon their caps, but acting now as provost-guards, and sent by one of my own captains, acting now as provost-offi- cer, to " enforce " this order for delivery of a negro to the person who has claimed him as a slave. "I vill have my slave," says the Creole planter. " General Banks makes one grand arrangement one Labor Contract wiz ze plantaire ! I sail keep my slaves, and ze yankee officier must return zem to my- self when zey run avay ; when zey hide in ze federal ' camp ! I comprehend it ver' well ! I vill have my garcon my slave, Colonel ! " "Very well," I reply to this excited gentleman, " what have I to do with all this ? " DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 45 " Ah ! truly ! you sail have me search of your camp ! I sail find my slave and take him. Come wiz me, guard ! " " Not so fast, sir. I cannot allow civilians to pass within my camp-lines." " Eh, well ! Zen you sail command ze soldier to bring out my runaway." " Pardon me, sir, I am prohibited by law of Congress from returning any fugitive slave to servitude." " Zen you sail permit ze provost-guard to go in ze camp, to seize ze mechant, ze culprit." " I am forbidden by General Orders to allow any violence to be used in reclaiming a runaway." " But, begar ! how sail I get back my slave, Col- onel ? " " Sir, I am forbidden by Special Orders to oppose any obstacle to the return of a runaway. If you can induce your servant to go with you, of his own will, I shall interpose no objection. But there. must be no violence used, you understand." " Milles tonnerres ! Colonel ! you vill tell me one. two three several things ! How can I see my garc.on if I sail not enter ze camp ? How sail I induce him to go back wizout ze handcuff? How sail I make arresta- tion wizout ze guard to put zis maudit, zis rascal, in ze stocks ? How sail I make him not run away any more wizout ze flogging ? Now you tell me, Colonel, no violence ! Vhat you mean, sare, eh ? " " I have nothing to do with your domestic affairs, sir. My duty is to guard this railroad, and to meet the enemy as a soldier." " But, mon dieu, Colonel, I sail regard zis Labor Contract wiz ze General Banks like one grand swindle 46 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of ze plantaire ! I sail make complaint ! I sail pro- test vhat you call repudiate zis Labor Contract ! " My irascible Creole takes his leave, and the provost- guards go back to their captain. After a few days, I receive notice that a complaint has been made at headquarters. General Weitzel writes to Colonel H , and Colonel H writes to Colonel N" , and Colonel 1ST writes to me ; requiring explana- tion and defence. I transmit, thereupon, a communica- tion to General Weitzel, wherein I assume my position to be that of a soldier and not a hunter of runaway negroes. I express my readiness to obey all lawful authority, but claim that a special act of Congress makes it a penal offence for any military officer to re- turn a fugitive slave to bondage. I adduce, likewise, certain orders of General Bo wen, Provost-Marshal General, prohibiting the use of violence in the arrest of alleged runaways. Finally, I ask for General Weitzel's opinion regarding my position, and soon af- ter receive an indorsement of it, under that gallant General's order. But provost-authority, as exercised by venal or pre- sumptuous military subordinates, is continually as- serting new prerogatives. Here, one morning, comes a planter from Thibodeaux, and with him a man in civilian's clothes, to identify a laborer in the quarter- master's department, who is claimed as a runaway plant- ation-slave. The negro walks into the highway, feeling quite secure, because he sees no provost-guard, with musket, ready to arrest him ; but suddenly the pre- tended citizen throws off his coat, and shows a jacket, marked with sergeant's stripes. Then pulling out a pair of handcuffs, with his left hand, while his right displays a pistol levelled at the negro's head, he bids DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 47 the shivering " contraband " to jump into a wagon standing near. I hear a yelling from the negro-camp, and in another moment, Colonel H , of Twenty- third Connecticut, makes hasty rush across the bridge, leaps down upon the provost-sergeant, and with voice and arm uplifted, flings him from his nearly-captured prize. A chorus of exulting exclamations breaks from sable throats, and is echoed by the shouts of sympa- thizing soldiers on the bridge ; while Monsieur Planter and his provost-guard " decoy " retreat to their close wagon, into which they hoped to drag the hapless " fugitive." These visits of planters, provost-soldiers, or negro- hunting scouts, are of daily occurrence, and their strat- egies to snare the runaways are numerous. Occasion- ally a more high-handed measure is attempted. The levee breaks away, near Thibodeaux, and a call for laborers to stop the dangerous " crevasse," is made upon this post. Our quartermasters, at the " crossing " are invoked, to send their able-bodied " hands " with- out delay ; so I direct a detail to be forwarded at once to the " crevasse." Meantime, the parish road be- comes impassable, and planters rush about, complaining that their lands will all be devastated. At length a force of several hundred negroes grapples with the danger, and it speedily disappears. In four-and-twen- ty hours, the levee-banks are sound again. But it is now the turn of quartermasters to complain. Their laborers are missing, -and reports arrive concerning squads of blacks, inveigled, kidnapped, and detained by planters, under provost-marshal's orders; while more squads are sent to jail, accused of anti-labor-contract contumacy. Here is another coil to disentangle. Pro- vost-authority backs itself on General Banks, and 48 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE points to orders based on his agreement with the planters ; whereby every negro found upon plantations after date is held to have indorsed his owner's contract, and is henceforth bound to labor for a certain pittance, and forbidden to leave, on penalty of re-delivery to his master. So, then, these crafty provost-men and plant- ers taking swift advantage of the presence of their quondam slaves, repairing a " crevasse," have pounced upon the helpless blacks, and driven them within the boundary of " plantations." And now the cry of quartermasters for laborers, and the wail of " contra- bands " thus kidnapped, unite their comment on the Labor Policy of General Banks j a policy which, though it be well intended, neither satisfies the planter nor protects the negro ; which practically enforces thraldom worse than former slavery; which robs our army and our government of thousands who might win and keep the rebel country by their own stout hands ; and which can never end in aught but profit to the speculating hordes that swarm about this Gulf Department, like voracious sharks upon the track of fever-ships. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 49 CHAPTER, V. THIBODEAUX AND TERREBONNE. I BIDE along the banked-up margin of Lafourche Bayou, by acres of abandoned plantations, through miles and leagues of ruined corn, and cane, and cotton fields. Some of the lands are still " squatted " over by ebony representatives of squandered wealth ; gaunt effigies of wasted substance ; gnarled limbs and roots of the great bohan-upas that has brooded over all this clime, and bred beneath it slimy coils of treason and rebellion. They are left, these victims of the Past and the Present. God help them ! What shall be their Future ? Last night a pair of worn-out " man-machines " crept near our camp-fires male and female octogenarians, waifs on the sable sea that beats incessantly upon the shores of Freedom. The man, with mumbling jaws, rehearsed his story. How he saw the sunshine first in Maryland ; was " sold into " Kentucky ; sent to field-work in his fifteenth year ; hoed corn till thirty ; meantime fathering some seven children ; sold again to Louisiana, with his " wife" their children being dispersed through all the South ; then " worked " on cotton fields ; there- after in the " cane," till fifty summers more rolled by ; and then a Northern bugle sounded through the old slave's soul, and he became a " contraband," or " fugi- tive," or " vagrant," as our General's " labor-contract " might describe him. Twice seized, and twice remanded 50 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE to his " owner ;" twice flogged, and once more flying from his bondage at length, last night, he fell within these lines. I do not think that provost-men can take this couple without " violence." These " short and simple annals of the poor " are better than statistics. I want no stronger witness of the bald injustice of all servile labor than the contrast of a master dwelling in his palace and the servant in his hut ; one reaping riches faster than his lavish hand can squander it; the other drudging hopelessly from birth to death, with all his toil appropriated by an " owner," and with even the offspring of his loins " sold off" to swell that owner's hoards. This wretched slave of eighty winters this withered pair who passed the hours of night in bathing mutual lash-wounds by the light of camp-fires have little notion of political economy, and never heard of Adam Smith, or Malthus, or Ricardo ; but the " male " can tell you that, for fifty years, he never was presented with a solitary sixpence by his wealthy master, nor received a single suit of clothing, summer or winter, for his toiling body. His master understood " economy," and had read De Bow, perhaps ; and so he made the slave's " affections " pay per centage, like his limbs, exacting, as the condition of the husband being allowed to see his wife, who lived upon a near plantation, that the wife should clothe her husband ; which she did for half a century. How ad- mirably were the interests of neighboring planters here combined! The owner of the u male" reduced his chattel's yearly " cost " to just the " bacon rations ;" while the master of the "female" counted all the children of his slave as so much thrift ; and " thrift is blessing, when men steal it not," said Shylock to Bas- sanio. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 51 But now these old slaves look after me, from camp, with faith that I can keep them in their new estate of freedom ! Their rheumy eyes already burn with the strange light of emancipation. O Liberty ! incompre- hensible, divine abstraction ! I think it might lift even these worn-out " men-machines " high up among hu- nanities. I draw bridle in Thibodeaux, at headquarters of my politic captain of the provost-guard. No simple tent of line-officer, fronting his company-street, but a gen- tleman's costly mansion, shaded by fragrant trees, with lawn and garden shrubbery, and " grounds," and out- buildings, and stables * for the " stud," which must be kept at call for provost-captain's service. Dismount- ing, stirrup held and bridle tended by a brace of unc- tuous " contrabands," I enter the spacious hall, and thence upon a drawing-room, where lolls one mild lieu- tenant on silk-cushioned sofa, and another thrums piano-forte, while their orderly mixes claret-punch in cut-glass goblets. The captain is on duty at the Court-house, where he occupies the Judge's bench, dispensing summary law on helpless sons of Ham, but listening graciously to " special pleading " of soft- spoken dowagers who " claim protection for their pro- perty." Meantime, the " provost-guard," a company of brave men, who enlisted for the battle-field, are quartered here and there upon plantations, to awe the blacks and hold them closely to the " labor-contract ;" to protect the " planter's interests," by hunting strag- gling recusants, and generally to act as " overseers " in pay of Federal treasury. How speedily the soldier sinks into the satellite ; how soon the guard becomes a jailer ; how certainly the life of ease and indolence de- 62 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE moralizes and undisciplines the man, let army-lists de- termine Thibodeaux has its nunnery and schools for Catholic young ladies, and its sable-cassocked priests, like any " ville " in France. I meet a singular procession near the church a cortege of some twenty mounted men, escorting solemnly an open wagon, on which is borne a little coffin, decked with flowers. They go to bury some petite enfant in oven-tomb ; and as I turn off, by the road to Terrebonne, I pass the cemetery a weed-grown space, with brickwork graves, like tables, built above ground. Here are multiplied, in layers and shelves, those mouldering masonry inclosures that con- tain the dust of generations. The soil of Lower Louis- iana is no soil for catacombs. We walk above no caves and find no grottoes in these bottom-lands ; we mine no tertiary veins of lead or iron, quarry not for coal or marble all the riches here is mud, alluvion of lakes and bayous fed by fertilizing Mississippi the Nile of all our South-west Egypt, which was a house of bond- age, likewise, for its laborers. Headquarters of the One Hundred and Seventy- sixth are at Terrebonne Railroad crossing, which I reach by horseback ride of four miles from Lafourche ma Thibodeaux. The distance by the track is three miles, through a belt of woods and swamps, allowing laterally not even a bridle-path. Here Colonel N" has pitched, picturesquely, his camp, beside the railway grade, its rear abutting on the shrubberied grounds of an extensive sugar-grower of the past. I find the Colonel in his tent, with Adjutant, engaged in ponder- ous correspondence on that never-ending theme, the rights of planters. Here, in the regimental letter-book, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 53 already have accumulated teeming folios full of ques tions for the future, between capital and labor, bond and free. I have more faith in war-guns than in law canons for the ultimate adjudication of these knotty problems. Colonel 1ST and myself mount horses for a trot be- low the camp, upon the road to Houma. Three miles from the railroad is a large plantation, once inhabited by Major Potts, a brother of the Rev. Dr. Potts, 01 controversial fame. The Major, it is said, possessed the finest library in the State, outside of New-Orleans, and left it, with his broad domain house, furniture, crops, stock, and " people " all to be the spoil of squatters, provost-marshals, soldiers, and camp-follow- ers. The negroes tell us how the books were scat- tered, mutilated, and consumed as fuel, long ago. A solitary volume of Hyperion blue and gold was found by Colonel N in a deserted chamber the last sad relic of that splendid private library. A "company canal," now nearly dry and choked with weeds, extends from Thibodeaux to Bayous Black and Blue, and once sufficed as channel for the country trade in Terrebonne ; large flat-boats, piled with cotton- bales and sugar-hogsheads, penetrating what seem now but narrow ditches by the highway. The town of Houma, twelve miles from the railroad, was quite an entrepot of inland commerce; and the bayou banks and lake-shores of this parish were, at one time, lively with the transit of deep-laden wains. This whole allu- vial country is a planter's paradise. No richer lauds are found upon the continent than are embraced within the water-belts of Louisiana, The town of Houma once a seat of aborigines, who 64: TWENTY MONTHS IN THE left their name to it was noted, some months since, as the theatre of a cowardly massacre, by ambushed rebels, of some wounded Union soldiers, who were being transported in a wagon through the district. The vic- tims were thrown into a trench dug in the public street of Houma. But iron-handed General Butler speedily avenged them. He sent the gallant Colonel Keith, with men and guns, to cleanse this nest of trai- tors. Keith compelled the Houma citizens to disinter our murdered soldiers, and re-bury them in coffins and in graves made by their own reluctant hands. He then took measures of retaliation ; burned the houses, su- gar-mills, crops, and machinery of rebel sympathizers ; hunted the guerrillas through woods and swamps, and levelled Houma jail to dust with battering-rams. Then, hoisting our " old flag " upon the court-house, he de- manded that the planters thereabout should pay the charges of his expedition ; then drove away some hun- dred head of confiscated cattle, and left Houma to re- cover at her leisure. So much for Butler's notable lex talionis. We ride back, past decaying messuages, alight at camp, to drink a dish of coflee, and then, remounting, take the road to Thibodeaux, where the Colonel and myself propose to pass the evening at our provost- captain's quarters ; for I had caught a glimpse of books in that snug homestead of an exiled rebel, and desired to spend a leisure hour with them. Arrived and seat- ed, while our steeds are duly cared for, we get pres- ently engrossed by teeming portefeuilles of engraving?, crayon sketches, and etudes, that lie upon the par lor-table. Afterwards the library key is brought, and DEPAKTMENT OF THE GULF. 55 we are ushered to a pleasant side-room, lined with book-cases well stored with goodly volumes. Here is another revelation of secession folly and " midsummer madness." This is the private library of Squire Bush, a lawyer and a prominent States rights man of Lafourche. Surrounded here by every comfort, blessed with wealth, and more than commonly endowed with intellect; a wife and blooming family around his board ; this man became a leader of the wretched horde who clamored for disunion. I appre- hend ambition was his failing that sin whereby the angels fell. I can recall his name, as noted somewhat in Know-Nothing annals; and doubt not that the " bubble reputation " lured on this husband, sire, and citizen, to stake his all upon the dice of revolution. So this night a Northern stranger moralizes amid the ruins of his household treasures, and the Yankee provost-soldiers stretch their legs upon his hearth- stone, unmindful of the lares and penates that should guard it. These shelves of tomes in divers tongues ; these desks, and maps, and globes, and study- lamps ; these red-taped rolls of manuscript, and pigeon- holes of pamphlets, journal clippings, club reports, and half-writ speeches ; all the opima spolia of a busy mental life, are left at last to alien scrutiny abandoned to the forfeiture that tracks their owner's hopes and happiness hereafter. I grow melancholy over these relics of a peaceful past ; I wax indignant with the thought that all this ruin was a suicidal act. What grievance drove the Jawyer of Lafourche to treason and rebellion ? What tyranny assailed his quiet home, that he should cast its comforts to the winds of civil strife? No chattel 56 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE could escape from all these labyrinths of swamps and bayous ; no abolitionist might penetrate these par- ishes, remote from Northern borders. Why, then, must Lawyer Bush play Catiline to his country ? I solve this problem at a later period of my South- ern residence. I learn some time hereafter not to base this rebel movement on a negro issue only. I gam, with new experiences, an insight to the real cause that underlies all seeming motives of the South in measur- ing her strength against a government upheld by equal rights. Meanwhile, here sit we, hostile strangers from the North, amidst the dusty lumber of a Southern home. The family portraits rest against the wall, backs turned upon us. I handle many a duplicate of favorite authors in my own home library. Here stand, in line, battalia of books, which show the classic taste of their collector. The British Poets muster, rank on rank, some ninety strong ; the British Essayists beneath ; and here are Dickens, Irving, Cooper, Bulwer, Thackeray ; with hundreds, rank and file, of literary yeomen ; and brave historians Bancroft, Alison, Guizot, Thiers, Lamar- tine, Macaulay, Prescott, Motley, Michelet, and costly books of plates ; and Lamennais, Chateaubriand, Rochefoucault ; with seventy volumes of Voltaire, and twenty of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and . . . I am alone among the living-dead, oblivious of the dead-alive, who feebly, in this age of feebleness, essay to wrestle with great truths, in cabinet or camp, kid- gloved and shod with silk. I fain would linger in the company of stalwart souls that smile out of these book-cases. I think I could lock door and curtain DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 67 casement, sitting down amid these ancient friends of mine, forgetful of all outside drums and bugle-calls. How wiser had it been for Lawyer Bush, if he had barred his gates and ears against the treason that en- compassed him, and remained " at home," amid his books and family, unmeddling with Rebellion's " peril- ous stuff." But he would not ; and so it is that strangers tread his halls, while he must be an exile from them. So it is that I, like him, quit home and quiet study for the camp and hostile action. The sin and folly of this rebel, and of such as he, have sun- dered households over all our land. This lawyer's reference-books, dust-covered, fill capa- cious wall-shelves, and are piled on floor and furniture in an office which he occupied on Thibodeaux main street. In all their multiplex authorities, all their pre- cedents, commentaries, and annotations, he found, it seems, not one small text to warn him of the penalties of treason. Peradventure, this man had been a better patriot with less of law and learning. Assuredly, he might be a happier husband and father to-day, in this peaceful mansion of his, with beloved faces round the hearth-stone, and his old flag of stars waving above the roof-tree* 68 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAP T E R, VI. TIGTERVLLLE. BRIGADIEE-GENEEAL WEITZEL stops one day at the Crossing, whispers into the ear of Colonel H that rebels are reported to be moving on the upper waters of Lafourche Bayou, and enjoins upon him to be vigi- lant here about the railroad ; whereat great preparation on our part ensues. We double guard, set extra pick- ets, station lookouts for the night. Some weeks ago, we underwent a midnight panic, when nocturnal wan- derers in the shape of runaway horses " drove our pick- ets in, M and divers rounds of cartridges were burnt, to imminent peril of all " stragglers." I have my own doubts now concerning the propinquity of rebels, but nevertheless take all precautions, and await develop- ments, on my soldier's pallet, lapped in dreams of home and happiness. " An hour passed on the Turk awoke ! " It is no marvel that he did so, if half a dozen voices rang in his ears, at once, as they do in mine; announcing foemen " thick as leaves in Vallambrosa. " I buckle on my sword and sally out, to find the camp aroused and under arms. Our quartermaster, very deaf, is listening nervously for a charge of rebel cavalry, while he supplies ammunition from one door and distributes whiskey ra- tions at another. Shots rapidly follow one another from surrounding darkness, and gallant subalterns cry, Steady, boys, steady," and white-faced fellows circulate DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 59 reports of " killed, wounded, and missing. " Meantime, I light a cigar, and despatch " George " on horseback to Thibodeaux, to learn if provost-guard be still extant, and another messenger to Terrebonne, by rail and hand- car, to report the " alarm " to Colonel N . I get my men in line upon the bridge and levee, ex- change a joke or two with others skeptical of danger as myself, and so the night wears on, and morning conies, and every body, glum and weary, goes to bed or breakfast, conscious of a quite unnecessary " scare," Such incidents, diversified by out-post visiting, oc- casional scouting on the bayou roads, impromptu slave- hunts, with a week or two of court-martials, whereat I sit in solemn dignity as president, to try some tipsy sentinel or poaching picket such is service at the Crossing, melancholy and monotonous. At length, an order for removal. Guard-duty is to be divided on the road ; my regiment to form a line of posts from Terrebonne to the front, at Brashear City ; the Twenty-third Connecticut to hold all stations from Lafourche to Algiers terminus. I go to Tigerville. To Tigerville : a quiet, slumberous place, at conflu- ence of two sluggish bayous. Near the station-house, by railroad track, the section superintendent for- merly a steamboat captain pleased himself some time before the war, in modelling a dwelling after pattern of the river-craft he used to navigate. A stack of buildings longitudinal, with bows, and stern, and mid- ships like a steamer ; with masts and flag-staffs, tower- ing over cabin-parlor, caboose-kitchen, and forecastle- cow-house ; snug, unique, and pretty as a picture. Here the bluff proprietor drank his Bourbon like a lord ; a staunch upholder of the Union, save when, now 60 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE and then, " inspiring, bold John Barleycorn " put words into his mouth which sounded strangely like secession sympathy. Some said this worthy skipper's steam- boat-house not only owned two flag-staffs, but possessed two flags to hoist upon them, as occasion might demand. However this might be, no bunting flew from them but Stars and Stripes while I abode in Tigerville. I pitched my little camp upon a narrow cross-road leading from the railway to a freight-house on the bayou margin. Near this, the barred-up shutters of a single-storied, many-windowed building seemed to in- dicate the shell of what was once a warehouse ; but it proved to be a billiard-room, with table, balls, cues, chalk, and tally-board intact and tempting ; whereupon my juniors quickly fixed their quarters in proximity, and an ivory tiraillade soon scared the rats away. A wooden cot, or cabin of the " poor- white " style with room for bed and board, hard by the camp, be- came headquarters, where I stretched a mattress, and arranged mosquito-net. " George " ensconced himself in kitchen out-building, " John " made his dormitory in a closet at the rear of mine, and so my new establish- ment was complete. The town of Tigerville was once, I learn, a busy set- tlement, with prosperous traffic gliding over its bayous, and radiating from the iron track which passes through its meadows. Two rustic bridges span the water- courses and the village straggling on each side of them. Left of the railroad, and between it and the swamps, the bayous and plantations lie. A signboard on the Tigerville Hotel now tenanted by sable squatters indicates the public road to Houma, east- ward, and to Brashear City, in a westerly direction. DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 61 Upon the right hand of the railway, there are open fields hemmed in by grand old woods, through which, with many windings, the road to Chickahoula, Terre- bonne, and Thibodeaux conducts. From Thibodeaux, by the Chickahoula highway, or by a more circuit- ous route, via Terrebonne and Houma road, all travel from Lafourche once found its way to Tigerville, and so to Berwick Bay and the Attakapas country. The railroad superseded bayou roads, of course, for purposes of transportation, to New-Orleans and the bay ; but these old highways, following the water-lines, with swamps, and forests, and broad belts of rich plan- tations as their background, are indispensable for in- terpenetration of the fertile parishes which stretch to the Mississippi " coast," and thence trend downward toward its seaward passes. A stone's throw from my quarters, rises an Indian mound ; one of the " high-places " where aborigines worshipped or made mausolea for their dead. It tow- ers above the roofs of manor-houses, and looks down upon the negro-hovels like a mountain in the dead level of surrounding marsh and swamp. Traditions claim this country as the hunting-ground of Choctaws. An old confederacy of red tribes once possessed the lower Mississippi lands, beginning with the Houmas, near our present " coast," and numbering many clans whose very names are now forgotten. These nations built their forts from Bayou Boeuff to Red River, rang- ing across the Teche and Atchafalaya, and through all the beautiful Attakapas. They waged fierce war figainst the French for nearly a century before their remnants, broken and disheartened, migrated to wil- dernesses far beyond the Mississippi, and were ultimate- 62 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE ly lost amid the predatory hordes which rove around the bases of Sierra Madre. I am speedily exploring the surroundings of Tiger- ville. Cool hours of morning, before ten o'clock, and evening, before sunset, are allotted to a ride through neighboring plantations. Mid-day heats forbid all out- door locomotion, and at twilight rise the fogs and swamp malaria, laden with seeds of typhus and ague. A canter of ten minutes bears me to Bronson's mansion, long since abandoned by its owners in fee-simple months ago denuded of its furniture by provost-mar- shal's confiscation. A robust negro swings the court- yard gate wide open, and a dozen sooty urchins scam- per round my horse hoofs as I cross the lawn. The house is empty, doors and windows closed. Some old house-servants occupy the back-buildings, and are rais- ing vegetables in the kitchen-garden, as of yore. They have retained a few remains of former household com- forts in their keeping, white counterpanes and " quali- ty" mosquito-nets, and pieces of choice china-ware. Across a bridge, upon the opposite bayou-bank, are negro-quarters, ^and the sugar-buildings, with their rust- ing heaps of fine machinery. The slaves of this estate are mostly dwelling hereabouts, and working up the land " on shares. " Left destitute by their owners, who abandoned every thing and fled before the march of our victorious expedition under Weitzel, these negro field-hands organized themselves in a rude "labor- phalanx," chose a leader, and took up the cultivation of their old domain, where " Massa Bronson " left it. They have now at least a moiety under cultivation, and expect to make a " right smart crap." The chosen " overseer " a thoughtful-featured colored man, called DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 63 " Jim," rehearses all his hopes and fears to me. His " sociates " are " right smart" and " willing to work," and only want a " chance," but " Mauss Bronson, when he run'd away to Tuckapaw, didn't leave no stock on de place, an dar's a oveseer o' ole mauss staid yer, an' he's a'gin de black people workin' de place, unless dey give de craps to him." " But how do you work the place, if you have no stock, Jim ? " " I'ze gwine to tell you 'bout de stock, Cunnil. Dar wasn't no critters on de place mauss tuk 'em all away ; but de Linkin sogers 'lowed us tree hosses, and we skeer'd up some old mules in de swamps out yer. Den we sot about gittin' a crap, but it's mighty hard work, Cunnil, kase de ole white overseer am a'gin de black people." " But your master has run away, Jim. Government now owns this plantation. Your old overseer has no authority here. " " D-dar's de diffikil, Cunnil. De ole overseer's got all de pigs and de yerlin's, an' he sez de provost-sogers put him yer, to carry on de place, so dat we isn't no 'count whatsomdever." I begin to have an adequate idea of the difficulties attending this " free labor experiment " organized by negro Jim and his comrades. Subsequently I ascer- tain all the points of their case. These contrabands, it seems, cast on their own re- sources through the treason and secession of their mas- ter, met together and deliberated in true democratic spirit on their situation. The result was, that they " or- ganized " for daily labor in the cultivation of a large plantation. They had no capital but their toil-hardened 64 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE hands. They begged some "stock" of passing sol- diers, and a sympathizing cavalry captain gave them three unserviceable horses. To these they added sev- eral venerable mules reclaimed from wanderings in the swamp. Thus aided, they essayed to carry on the " government plantation ;" when an overseer, their for- mer driver under " ownership," stepped in with new authority derived from high permission of a provost- marshal, sub-lieutenant of some regiment he had not seen since it was ordered into service. Betimes, our too-ambitious laborers of " African descent " discover that their owner's representative is still their " master," ordering tasks, appropriating hogs and kine and chick- ens, and asserting generally his domination, as of yore. Here, then, a brace of " overseers," the white and black ; no great encouragement to present work, and promising small future compensation to the workers. For my own part, I sympathize with Jim and his stout phalanx ; but beyond this I am powerless. The provost-marshals sway plantations, and are regnant in all labor-contracts. Possibly, if I were martial arbi- ter of all this parish, or of this broad belt beside the railway, I might have a voice in " organization." I would say to Jim, one day, that he could guard this road at Tigerville as well as I can. I would bid my commissary serve out rations to the man, and to his negro comrades, men like him. My quartermaster should supply them all with good substantial clothing, for their quondam owner has bequeathed them only rags. My ordnance officer should give them hoes, carts, digging implements, and muskets and cartridge- boxes. So then, black-skinned overseer, called " Jim " DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 65 or any other name, with " gang," or " squad," or " com- pany " of " organized laborers," WELL-AEMED, might constitute a portion of as good militia as this Opelousas road requires, for " home defence." I do not think the presence of their wives and children on plantations, worked and guarded by these men, would make them less efficient. I do not think a just or generous share in all the products of their toil would make them less desirous of protecting this fine country from the as- saults of rebels. I dare surmise that these abandoned cane and cotton-fields would thrive as well beneath the willing hands of black-skinned soldiers, armed with rifles and supplied with ploughs, as ever they could thrive under reluctant toil of black-skinned Helots, with no interest in the land they cultivate.- What says my overseer Jim upon the question ? " Yes, Cunnil, we is mighty sharp to 1'arn : de black people is." " Jim ! how many black men are there in Tigerville, as strong and able-bodied as you are ? " " Reckon dar's a heap, Cunn'l. Mebbe dar's two hun- dred on Mauss Knight's place, an' de Hopkins place, and dis yer place whar we is, Cunn'l." " Very well, Jim, supposing those two hundred men could learn to load and fire, like my soldiers, and were to have guns and powder a-plenty, and I should say to them, You shall have half of all the crops you paise on the plantations you work; but you must watch this railroad, as my men do, and keep the rebels from burn- ing bridges. Do you think you could do it, Jim ?" I wait for an answer, while the negro seems to pon- der thoughtfully. Presently he appears to comprehend 66 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE my entire meaning, for a big tear slowly gathers in his eyes, and his voice quivers, as he speaks. " Cunn'l," says overseer Jim, " I'ze a poor black man ! We is all berry poor and berry low, kase we was in slavery all our born days ; but de good Lord 'lightens de black man's mind, ebber since de Lin- kum sogers come, and " He brushed his coarse sleeve across his wet eyes, and stopped abruptly. "Well, Jim!" " Cunn'l, I'ze ready an' willin' to take de gun an' de sword, an' fight for de good cause. We is all ready an' willin' ; we pray to de Lord for a chance. " " Jim, there are nearly two thousand of your people in Terrebonne parish, all strong men ; do you think, if you were well armed, you could keep the Tuckapaw rebels from coming back and making slaves of you again ?" "Dunno, Cunn'l, de Lord only knows dat. But I'ze shore o' dis yer thing, Cunn'l, we'se all gwine to jes' die in our tracks 'fore dey make us slaves any more. De battle is not to de strong, Cunn'l ; but gib us a chance, an' we is cl'ar for you, Cunn'l. De black people is mighty sharp to 1'arn." I leave my overseer Jim on Bronson's place, and trot on toward the Hopkins mansion, to reach which I cross the bayou on a highway bridge, and, turning past a massive sugar-mill, ride in upon a spacious square, with well-built cottage-houses fronting on two sides. These are the negro-quarters quite a little village; a picket-fence, with carriage gateway, separates the square from a capacious lawn, on which the "great house " stands ; a handsome structure of the Southern DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 67 style, with broad piazza and a pleasant show of breeze- inviting casements. Here is more "abandonment." The lower rooms are void of furniture ; and an " over- seer " steps out to tell me so, and to inform me that he represents the " property." A few cadaverous negro children and a wrinkled yellow woman are the only representatives of " labor " that I see about the prem- ises. A few weeks subsequent to this, ray first inspec- tion of the Hopkins place, a tall adventurer from Ten- nessee obtains it, on a lease, from Government, and sets in to make a sugar fortune. The situation of this Hop- kins place is very eligible for a speculation of the kind. Its works are close upon the bayou, which here broad- ens, flowing toward the Boeuff. A railroad platform is within a quarter-mile of it, and the highway deflects around its sugar-fields. The rebel Hopkins must have been a prosperous man ; and yet so bitter was he in his treason, that, as gossip says, he reared a gallows on his grounds, to hang the " abolitionists." His influence, doubtless, caused more moderate men, like Bronson and some others of his neighbors, to espouse the reb- el cause, and, in an evil hour, desert their fine estates and happy homes. So Tigerville plantations lie around these bayou-waters in " admired disorder," tempting speculation from afar. Already do the needy hangers- on at New-Orleans begin to snuiF prospective wealth without necessity of personal work. Before the year runs out, there will be " masters " in profusion for these tenantless mansions. What should deter our enterpris- ing sutlers, and " resigning " officers from easy ven- tures in the sugar business ? " Security " is easily ob- tained, while Government contracts to furnish mules, and men to " stock the lands, and even advances " sal- 68 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE aries " for the patriotic gentlemen who hope to make their fortunes in the business. And all the while, that great black human Force, whose life-long strength has been expended, for a hun- dred years, in servile toil, is reckoned in the " labor- contracts " only as the "stock," whose service is to multiply the gains of capital. No sound, humanitarian plan for lifting up this " stock " to manhood ; no pro- visions for a future self-respecting peasantry, whose souls and bodies now are in our hands, as clay, to mould them as we will ; no statesmanlike attempt to solve the mighty labor-problem of our nation's future ; none of these grand questions are involved in " labor- contracts " and " plantation-leases. " This is the day of provost-marshals and omnipotent staff-officers in un- exceptionable styles of undress uniform. God help our country if no MEN come up, to take the place of girls and boys in office ! DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 69 CHAPTEK VII. SPORTING IN A BAYOU. THROUGH the morning hours, I have been exploring the mysteries of a Louisiana morass ; penetrating regions of green gloom, gliding into cavernous wilds of filamentous vegetation. Seated in a canoe of primitive fashion, the hollow of a log, that packs my sides and limbs in coffin- like snugness, I have ascended miles from camp, under ghostly cypress limbs, and through slimy mould of rank confervas. Balancing in my "dug-out," I paddle slowly down the sluggish bayou. A summer sun rides near its zenith, but only straggling beams of heat can penetrate the over- spreading cypress boughs. The temperature is of delici- ous coolness ; for shadows lie all day upon these hidden waters. Profound quiet broods over mar vis and forest, sometimes for hours, save when the nutter of a bird awak- ing from its noontide dream, or the occasional plash of an alligator slipping off the bank, makes momentary rip- ples on the stillness. The grey Spanish moss droops mo- tionless in long festoons, or coils fantastically over pen- dent foliage, shrouding all the life beneath with sombre cerements. Fire-blasted cedar trunks, grim and pallid, look out like ghosts at intervals, uplifting spectral limbs. Small breaks of sunshine tell of openings in the timber,, whence come gleams of emerald turf and glimpses of in- terior landscape ; lovely bits of light and shade, chequer- ed by wild vines, trellised over ancient oaks ; deep nooks of greenery and labyrinths of leafy arches, curtained with 70 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE a gauze of purple haze ; and slumbering pools, bridged over by the cones of cypress bolls. An alligator's shining crest appears above the water, scarcely two boat-lengths ahead of me. The reptile swims so noiselessly that no one could detect its presence by the ear. I level my revolver and send a bullet at his wake. The missile strikes, but glances from the monster's scaly hide as if deflected by steel armor. In a moment all the bayou is alive with saurian fugitives, startled by my shot. They show their gleaming vertebrae here* there, and all about me. A black, corrugated head has risen close behind my crazy "dug-out." I take quick aim at it, internally shuddering at the prospect of a sudden capsize into this "certain convocation" of wide-jawed "swamp-angels." Whizz goes the bullet, and I plainly see it penetrate the alligator's fore leg, at the articulation of the shoulder. He sinks like a log. Meantime a score of ugly shapes have reached the bayou margins ; some are crawling over the muddy sedges to gain their "paths" to the remoter swamp. These paths or trails asre well de- fined, and might be followed, were it worth the while to wade through slimy morasses. I empty my remaining barrels at the nearest marks, and paddle toward a cypress clump, to take an observation from some point that looks like vantage ground. But here my flat keel "grounds" upon a ten-foot alligator that has wedged his long pro- boscis between roots and bolls. My "dug-out" oversets, as the monster flaps his huge tail, backing into deep water, and I have a single moment left me, to spring up- on a log imbedded near the shore. Here, with useless paddle and discharged revolver, I remain a cast-away, my "dug-out" half submerged, pushed off some twenty yards by the retreating alligator. I find myself in awkward straits. I mentally repent DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 71 my recent "troubling of the waters.'* The log -which gives me foothold sways like a Mississippi "sawyer." It is fast at one end, but beyond that end some twenty feet of morass separate it from terra firma. The cypress clump is only a little islet near the bayou edge, with sedgy mire between it and the banks. It behooves me to extricate myself, if possible, from immediate peril of a plunge, neck-deep or lower, into Louisiana subsoil. My saurians have vanished, and the bayou is lonesome as before. Its leaden drapery of swamp moss ; its wil- derness of motionless leaves ; its unbroken shadows and unrippled waters ; all are lapsed into the lethargy of noon. I might stand shouting on this shaky log till mid- night, with.no other answer to my voice than muffled echoes of the shrouded woods. Steadying myself with the paddle, I shift one foot and cautiously essay to plant it on a cypress boll. These curious vegetative freaks, the bolls, grow clustered at the foot of cypress trunks, emerging from the watery ooze in conical shafts, shaped much like mime cartridges. It is said that engineers have found them useful as foundation piles, in road-making through swamps. However this may be, I vouch for one thing from my own experience that to cross a bridge of cypress bolls in military jack- boots is no trifling effort of pedestrianism. Hindoo theurgy has a causeway narrow as a sabre-edge, for souls to walk over hereafter. I venture to declare that cypress bolls make causeways as precarious for bodily feet to lo- comote. I shiver to recall the slips and slides, the shakes and quakes, the knee-bows and back-crookings which this journey over slimy cypress cones exacted of me ere I reached a segment of the tree base that afforded solid standing. Hardly was the feat accomplished ere I heard a rustle overhead, and realized, to my horror, that I had 72 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE enemies to contend with, worse than alligators or the mud that breeds them. I had gained a ridge of spongy soil clinging about the cypress roots. The gnarled trunk was thick with aged moss, which I grasped with my right hand, while my left held by the paddle, as a staff. The rustling startled me, and, glancing up, I spied the variegated body of a large snake coiled about the tree, not ten feet above me. And, looking down, I saw, so nearly in my path that a footstep forward would have trodden on it, another serpent, lying in convolutions, and apparently asleep, upon the dank green turf. A glance sufficed to tell me that it was a moccasin-snake. I do not like to recollect the sickening feeling that for a moment came over me, as I noticed the two reptiles with what seemed a single eye-shot. I have a horror of the serpent tribe, and would rather face a battery than a rattle-snake. But here was no retreat. I could not re. trace my steps upon the cypress-cones. To jump into that gloomy bayou, and, perhaps, be presently entangled in the horrible subaqueous vegetation over which I had paddled my "dug-out," or to encounter, at the miry bot- tom, objects of I knew not what impurity and venom, seemed no pleasanter alternative. I had no weapon but the paddle. I could not strike one snake, even the sleep- ing one, without causing the other to attack; and yet I could not pass around the tree, upon that spongy ridge, unless I over-stepped the moccasin. And I knew not whether this cypress-clump, with its base of mossy peat, might not be peopled by a colony of serpents. I had heard of snake-dens in these bogs ; of breeding coverts, where the copperhead, hooded-adder, and moccasin min- gled their horrid progenies. The time consumed while I stood motionless, supported DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 73 by my paddle and the tree, was very brief, scarce com- putable ; yet in that instant these and many other thoughts gleamed through my mind. The sudden danger, prompt- ings to escape it, and regrets- at having provoked it, were reflected simultaneously with thoughts of home and con- sciousness of present surroundings. The bayou solitude, its shadow and its quietude; the thickly-woven green fronds, upon the water ; the heavy grey moss on the trees ; and, more distinct than other things, the snakes coiled over head and at my feet were pencilled by a single mental flash. Drawing my paddle from the water, with a cautious hand, I released my hold upon the mossy cy- press-trunk, and raised one foot to step across the snake before me. At this crisis something caused the other one to uncoil suddenly, and in an instant I beheld its glistening head and forked tongue thrust downward, while its eyes burned with a light like living emeralds. I felt a horrible attraction to return their gaze. I thought of stories that I had often scoffed at; tales of fascinated birds and children. I thought of Eve's temptation, and of Coleridge and the Lady Geraldine, and almost fancied, that those luminous eyes were set under a female fore- head, and the snaky coils beneath were silken folds of a lady's garments, wrought in gold and opalesque embroi- dery. This spell, if spell it could be called, was quickly broken, as I marked the serpent's tail abruptly flung around a limb above me, and its crest curved angrily over a coil of spiral rings. Involuntarily I shrank from the threatened spring, and, as I did so, the snake sud- denly depressed its body, darted out its head uneasily to and fro, then glided to a higher limb, and disappeared amid the maze of leaves and moss. Another second, and I heard a loud, clear voice, breaking the stillness, like a silver trumpet. 74 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE 11 De cane is in de sugar-biler de goold an' silver, massa ! Dar's a dollar comin' Christmas; O de goold an' silver, inassa!" Plash, plash ! a pair of paddles timed the musical re- frain; and close beside my sunken "dug-out" I saw an- other canoe glide noiselessly across the stream, propelled by an old negro, who was singing a plantation song. I hailed him lustily, and bade him take me from the cypress clump. The son of Ham was dwarfish, thin, and dried as any herring, and I doubt if there was skill or harmony in his minstrelsy; but I never felt such pleasure in the voice of Mario or Sontag as I did in hearing that grotesque boatman. Hardly had his paddle struck the cypress-bolls, when I stepped toward his skiff. "De gracious! massa Cunn'l, is you dar? Lef dat yei cypress hole mity quick, sah ! Dar's snakes out yer ! Dar's mocassins yerabouts, mass' Cunn'l !" I took my seat in the skiff as steadily as was possible, stretching my legs out, with a sigh of relief. Then, tell- ing the negro to remain quiet a moment, I proceeded to re-load the revolver, which I had placed in its belt-case. I levelled and discharged one barrel at the moss-grown boughs that concealed the larger serpent. I fired another at the tree-base, where reposed the moccasin. "Dar's snakes yer, sartin, mass' Cunn'l!" said the negro; "dat's de cypress hole whar all de sarpints come from. Hope some ob dem's done killed by de Lin- kum bullets, sah ! " A notable response to the darkey's remark was ob- servable in the cypress clump and its surroundings. The spongy peat about the central trunk, and all the mass of tangled undergrowth which hemmed the water- sairface, appeared at once in motion. Overhead, both moss DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 75 and foliage were agitated, as if shaken by a breeze. A hissing, spiteful and prolonged, pierced through the mazy vegetation. I fired four charges more, in quick succes- sion, at the cypress hole. "Dem sarpints done skeered, if dey isn't hit, mass* Cunn'l !" cried the old negro, encouragingly, as he pad- dled his skiff away from the horrible locality. I did not tell him how "done skeered" I had been myself, a little while before, but listened quietly to his encomiums on my courage in exploring snake-haunts. "If dey'm one sarpint in dat cypress hole," said the citizen of African descent, "dey'm sartin shore tree or four million. I seed dem sunnin* darselves, sah, berry often, when de bayou's done dry, out yer by de bolls. Dar's a ole gum tree toder side de cypress, whar dar's more'n forty million !" I made some allowance for Uncle Bill's arithmetical mistakes ; but assented to the main fact, that there were "some snaix," as well as alligators, in that bayou. Uncle Bill earned a dollar, and I am quite sure that I realised the value of it in my reptile experience. 76 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER VIII. AFRICAN DESCENT. THE sun sets. I have discussed the evening rations, and am sitting in my quarters, enveloped with smoke- clouds. My servant George kindles fire upon an iron shovel, in the doorway, thereby blinding human optics, in order to expel mosquitoes, that loom up in customary twilight cohorts. Mosquitoes, in this land of swamps, are not like our feeble insectorial phlebotomists of Long Branch or Cape May. In Louisiana they are the Mame- lukes of flying tribes, charging at cavalry bugle-calls, and slinging dart and javelin with unerring skill into targets of epidermis. "Soon as the evening shades prevail," their sting is legion and their buzz abominable. In camp, our only refuge, outside of mosquito-netting, is in the pungent smell and dense fume of dry and fibrous road-manure. Formerly, the people hid from sun-down to "sun-up," under canopies and within walls of gauze ; not nets for beds only, but pendent, likewise, over tea-tables, and closely circumscribing chairs and sofas. Thus girt in by bars transparent, one may tolerate these sultry summer evenings ; but to be exposed, under assault of countless and ubiquitous tormentors, is what no man with a cuticle not quite rhinocerine could endure without becoming frantic. " Some cullud gen'l'men desires to speak to you, sah !" says George ; emerging from his cloud-compelling incan- tations. DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 77 I nod permission, and the " colored gentlemen " pre- sently introduce themselves, .with much shuffling at door- sill ; five negroes from neighboring estates; all mani- festly gotten up for the occasion. Their cotton shirts are immaculately clean, the collars of great size. Their Kentucky jeans, of many patches, are glossy with recent soapsuds. "Good ebenin', Cunn'l! Is ye in, Cunn'l?" inquires the spokesman, showing flashing rows of ivory, as he ducks his head. "Cunn'l, we'm's a delegation ob ob " " Ah, indeed ! What can I do for you ?" ' We r'esents de cullud popylashin, which am libin* yer abouts, Cunn'l? We'se done heerd ob de prok'lashin, Cunn'l!" " Oh! you have heard of the proclamation!** " Yis, yis, Cunn'l de day ob fas' an' pray, sot apart. We'se all cl'ar Unum people, Cunn'l, but las' y'ar we's all 'bleeged to keep de day ob fas' an' pray fur Jeff's 'n Davis, whe'r'o'no; now dis y'ar, we's gwine to keep de Lord's fas' day fur de Unum, 'cordn' to Mauss' Linkum's pro'lemashin, Cunn'l!" " How did you know about tke proclamation ? " "De Linkum sojers down in camps yer, tole us 'bout it, Cunn'l ; an' we done heerd one Linkum ossifer readin' it out ob de paper to dat yaller gen'Pman what cooks for you, Cunn'l! " "Very well, my loyal friends; I see nothing to pre- vent your keeping fast-day, if you desire." "Dar's anudder suckumstance, Cunn'l, which we'm gwine to ax you a favor fur de cullud popylashin ; 'kase we'm a delegashin 'pinted fur dat same. You see, Cunn'l, we's got no house ob de Lord whar cullud pussons can 'semble ; dar's no place fur to pray to de Lord, 'cept de cane an' de swamp; an' dar's a Lord's house ober de 78 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE bayou, Cunn'l, shot up all de time, 'kase Secesh owns it, an' Secesh an't gwine to wush'p, 'kase dey'm 'bleeged to pray for Mass' Linkum an' de ole Unum." "So the 'Secesh' own that little church over the bayou ? " I inquired. " Yes, Cunn'l, sartin* ; 'kase dat yer church was 'rec- ted fur de maussas an' missys roun'bout yer! I tell you de troof, Cunn'l, dey nebber let pore brack slabe gwo in dar, 'cep' fur to scrub de flure; an' now de dure am close', an' dey nebber gwos dar demselves, 'kase mos' all de maussas an* missys done run'd away to Tuckapaw." " The church is never used now, you say ? " " Sartin' not, Cunn'l. Dat ar' bressed Lord's house, nebber h'ar de voice ob pray an' praise any more dar. " " Well, go home to your people, and tell them they shall have the church on fast day, and on Sabbath days also, if they promise to keep the building in good order." "De Lord bress ye, Cunn'l! you'm berry kind to us an' we's nebber gwine to forget yer ! " "I shall attend church with you, on fast-day, my friends!" "De good Lord bress ye, Cunn'l! We'm oberjoyed to h'ar you say dat. Now, we's gwine to fas' an' pray, an' hab a joyful time in de Lord." Betimes, on fast-day, Tigerville appears alive with peripatetic black people. Much tribulation and suppres- sed bile in planterdom ; muttered maledictions, I fear, on galleries of great houses; scowls and evil glances under broad-brimmed hats of loungers on railroad plat- forms all signs like these betoken under-ourrents of uneasiness in our small body politic. There is reason. Such shocking innovation on past conservatism as the opening of a meeting-house to negro worshipers, was well calculated to disturb the equilibrium of any parish town DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 79 in Louisiana. But here, on Terrebonne territory; from old French times the bosom-soil of slaveholding oligar- chies; here, where the chattel-caste has been lashed, chained, branded, yoked in iron-toothed collars, filleted with steel-spiked garlands, shod with shackle-bars; burned, starved, hanged, drowned, and buried alive; in such a paradise of bondage as this parish used to be ; what cruel revolutions must have forced the way to such an outrage as is now contemplated the worshiping of God by negroes, under roof-tree of a church, pursuant to "Yankee proclamation." But the blacks themselves are troubled very little with the chagrin of their quondam lords. This "Lincoln Fast-Day," breaking over moss-hung swamp-forests, finds few workers on plantation grounds, within a half-score miles of Tigerville. Black loyalty asserts itself, militant against "masterism" and reckless of "labor contracts," for this day, at least. The sable pilgrims to our unpre- tending wooden temple, on the bank of Bayou Black, are no solemn-faced sinners, sackclothed and ashy, creeping along with unboiled peas in their boots. Clean-shirted, shining, jubilant, they come ; in pairs and squads ; young Toms and Jacks, with dusky Phillises and Dinahs; busk- ined and barefoot; capped, 'kerchiefed, and palm-hatted; hooped, ruffled, furbelowed, rainbow-hued; a "Vanity Fair" of holiday negrodom, arrayed in smiles, grins, gri- maces, and serio-comic dignity. I don my uniform ; forgetting not chapeau and silken sash ; gird sword upon me ; and attend, for the first time in life, a negro church service. The scene is picturesque. A small but pretty edifice, whitewalled and ornamented with green blinds, retires a little from the bayou-road in cloistral seclusion. Its open windows are surrounded by groups of negroes, decked with the gayest treasures 80 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of their simple wardrobes. Beyond, are oven-tombs, receptacles of prostrate frames that once were clothed with flesh and moved erect within these temple pre- cincts. The mausolea are half-hidden under rank luxuriance of grasses, weeds, and clambering vines. Small clumps of violets and strawberry blooms are sprout- ing at their bases; green fans of dwarf palmettos, stiff and spinous, grow, hedge-like, round them. A back- ground of dense foliage oaks and gum trees, heavy with moss thickens into the semi-circling cypress-swamp; and far back stretch wildernesses of unbroken morass, widening ever, until swallowed up by sea-side marshes. The church is crowded; doors and casements choked with joyous black people. It is an epoch in their lives, this liberty to preach and pray, within church-walls, quite independent of an overseer. I sympathize with their blameless demonstrations ; for I have heard of the thorny paths wherein many walked, in years gone by, to life beyond the grave ; of scourgings, chains, and pillories for black confessors of -Emmanuel's name, who met in cypress-swamps and canebrakes, to exchange their lowly testament of Christian faith. I know that many of these poor worshipers belonged to masters who denied them even one day of rest in seven ; that most of them were once forbidden to meet for purposes of worship, lest that ever-present phantom, Insurrection, might arise between them and the owners of their souls and bodies. It is no marvel to me, then, this great "joy in de Lord," overflow- ing from humble hearts. The day of Fast is day of Jubilee for them; Feast of Purim, whereby they com- memorate a Great Deliverance of their Race. Now arises, at the sacred desk, a patriarch of the plan- tations, bald and wrinkled, but bright-eyed. He has never learned to read the Word of God, but from his me- DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 81 mory of Scripture texts collected during a septuagint of years, "He wales a portion, with judicious care, And ' Let us worship God ! ' he says, with solemn air." I should fail to render, even with phonographic pen, the fervid language, much less the earnest manner, of this dusky preacher, holding forth to his fellows, with "spontaneous, rushing, native force." No rounded peri- ods, no flourishes of rhetoric, no well-culled flowers of diction, challenge admiration ; but the utterance of feel- ing, clothed in rudest words, is often more impressive than all grace of oratory. He dwells upon the sufferings of his people, their years of degradation, their martyrdom to servile toil. He counts their manifold wrongs, and calls to mind their timid hopes, glimmering like swamp- lights across the dark pathways of past endurance ; their feeble midnight longings, wherewith they evermore yearn- ed toward "sun-up;" their struggling faith in the com- ing Dayspring, which was to " c'lar 'way all de fogs from de ma'shes, " and "p'int de way out ob Slabery's swamp, to de green field ob Liberty ! " "Bress de Lord for his mercy, brudd'rin!" shouts the old man. " 0, gib t'anks to de good Lord ! Dis mighty Deliberance is done come yer at last ; an' de paff ob de poo' slabe am made straight; an' we'm marchin' out ob de wilderness! De Lord bress dese Yankee sojers! May de angel ob de Lord march 'long side ob dem, with His flamin* sword ! O poo' culled brudd'rin' an' sistern ! nebber turn you' back on de Linkum sojers ! Run an* do all de errands fur dem; gib dem to shar* whatsomeb- ber you'm got fur to eat an' to drink ; nuss dem when dey'm done sick ! pray fur dem ebbery day an* night, my poo' brudd'rin and sistern ! After all, you isn't able to pay half ob de debt you'm owin* dem ! Oh! you'm got a 82 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE debt owin' to dese Yankee sojers all you' libes. Dey is done fetched de blessin's ob liberty to you an' to me, poo' darkeys ! I is willin* to wu'k fur dem ! I is willin' to nuss dem! I is wantin' to pray to de Lord, all de time, dat he will stan' by de Yankees and gib dem de victory. I is willin' to die fur dese sojers yer! Bress de Lord, we'm all willin' an' ready to lie down an' die fur Ab'm Linkum an' his sojers, dat gib us our bressed freedom to wush'p in dis yer house ob de Lord, after we'm wu'k'd in de house of bondage all our days an' y'ars befo' !" Who could depict the energy and expression that ac- companied this exhortation? Perspiration trickled from the preacher's every pore; large drops beaded his swart forehead, glittering like a nimbus. His withered arms were flung out wildly; he bent his attenuated frame over the desk, as if to reach bodily and enclasp his hearers. Our soldiers, gathering outside the doors, were evidently much affected by the vehemence and sincerity wherewith divine protection was invoked for them. I write the preacher's words ; but I cannot more than indicate the chorus attending every effective pause; a curious mono- toned vocal symphony, which, like some long-drawn con- gregational "Amen!" responded in a sort of humming chant. The rhythmic melody of this low refrain of mingling voices cannot be realized without a hearing of it. It is not so much an audible syllabizing, as a sup- pressed hum, like inward singing. PREACHER. Brudd'rin* an' sistern! we'm gwine to praise de Lord for 'mancipation ! CONGREGATION. Bress de Lord fur 'mancipation! U-m-m-m-0-m-m-m-O! PREACHER. We'm gwine to cross de Jordan, marchin' troo de Land ob Canaan ! DEPAKTMEKT OF THE GULF. 83 CONGREGATION. Troo de Land ob Canaan. U-m-m-m- O-m-m-m-0! gi ye U P day ky day, their convalescent occu- pants. At length, comparative quiet reigns upon the Berwick C^J water-front. Ferry boats make less fre- quent crossing 8 - A few stragglers only linger daily upon the strand, wherb we encountered, a week ago, such DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 103 troops of black and white. As I ride now, from the ferry-landing to camp, along a mile of road, with scattered houses, mostly vacant, on one side, I seldom meet a wayfarer. Yet some of the abandoned buildings were abodes of ease and elegance two years ago. Below our guarded lines resides a brother of my friends, the L s of New York ; in whose interesting family are two deaf mutes, intelligent and amiable children. Dr. R 's household is likewise a refined and agreeable one. These resident owners have had opportunities of comparison between the rebel troops and ours; as all this bay-shore was occupied, until about two months since, by forces of the enemy. Surveying one another, vis-a-vis, from oppo- sing fronts, of Brashear and Berwick cities, the bel- ligerents were accustomed to exchange artillery compli- ments almost daily, and many of the buildings hereabout bear marks of shot and shell. Dr. S sets plates for my officers at his hospitable table, but I content myself with a single dejeuner, and a chat with Madame P , well known in former seasons as a patroness of Newport, where she occupied a cottage ornee. Still handsome and stately, this widow, with an ample fortune in sugar lands and their concomitant living chattels, dwells luxuriously npon a romantic bend of Bayou Teche, above the town of Franklin, in St. Mary's parish. She professes staunch loyalty to the Union, and assures us that her negroes were so much attached to her that they voluntarily returned to labor after having dispersed to the woods and swamps, or mingled with the advancing army of General Banks. I could easily divine that this sparkling lady might find it for her interest to remain the chatelaine of her own castle. With affability and tact, to say nothing of good business knowledge, as her Amazonian weaponry, she would be able, doubtless, 104 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE to keep her household gods and goods inviolate under martial surveillance of both red and white roses. Too much a clever woman of the world to cry "A plague on both your houses," she might give smiles as subsidies, and purchase safeguards by soft words for North and South alike. Much easier is this, and far more politic, than the usual abandonment of house and lands to "tender mercies" of remorseless confiscation boards. It was on the simple negro servants of pleasant Madame P that sundry graceless scamps of our "grand army" played divers pranks of knavery. Our forces bivouacked near her lands, in passing up the Teche ; and, shortly after they had marched away, the lady one day noticed that her sable handmaids were busied with great washing of gar- ments and bleaching of cotton and fine linen to unwonted snowiness. Lawns were bestrewn with lawn; every bush had a rag on it; the hedgerows were festooned with all fibrous particles of apparel that could be whitened by the power of alkalies. From morn to night the blacks were in hot water at wash-tubs. Kitchen tables smoked with heaps of unmentionable articles, glossy under calender and smoothing-iron. What could this sudden storm of cleanliness import? The mistress marvelled, and a con- fidential tire-woman at length enlightened her. "You see, missy, we's gwine to hab our white robes all ready when de messenger come." "Who is the messenger, Lucille, and why must you have white robes ready?" queried Madame P , with I know not how many visions of Millerite preparations suggested to her fancy. "Why, missy, dar am a high ossifer gwine to come yer to Tuckapaw, from Massa Abe Linkum hissef, missy. He'ni gwine to write de cullud people in de great book." "What nonsense are you telling me, Lucille ?" DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 105 "It am rale troo, missy; no mistake dis yer time. We's all done got de stiff-cats." "Got what, Lucille?" " Got de stiff-cats, missy, wid Massa Linkum's picter ob hisself on dem. We's shore to git de goold an' silber back, when de high ossifer done come to Tuckapaw." " Gold and silver back ! What do you mean, Lucille ?" "0, missy, you know we's done 'mancipate dis yer minit, but we isn't gwine to leabe Tuckapaw. We is pre- fer to stay wid our kind missy." " Well, tell me about the gold and silver, and why you are washing all these clothes, child." " 'Kase it am ordered to be, missy. We's to gwo all 'rayed in white robes, like de lambs, an' 'tan' all togeder out yer by de bayou. Sartin shore, missy, de high ossifer am gwine to come up in de biggest ribber boat, wid all de flags fly in', and we is to holler out rite smart for de Unum " " And the gold and silver, Lucille ?" " 0, we's gwine to hab all de goold an' silber done paid back agin, and ebery cullud pusson am to git a house an' garden, and dar 'm not gwine to be no more workin' fur oberseers, only jes' fur reg'lar wages M " Indeed ! But what do you mean by getting your gold and silver back, child ?" " Lor* sakes, missy, I isn't tole you 'bout dat yit; an' I declar' I isn't done showed you de Linkum stiff-cat." " No, indeed, you have not, Lucille." " Dar, m'm, de stiff-cat. De Linkum sogers gib us all one, 'fore dey done marched away." Saying this, the maiden drew from her dusky bosom a scrap of paper. It was creased and discolored, but Madame P contrived to decipher the printed con- tents. It was simply a square of pictured tissue paper, 106 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE bearing a lithographed head in one corner, and a soap- maker's advertisement following in fact, the common imitation of a bank certificate, which we often see pasted on the lid of a fancy soap box or at the end of a match ' Dat yer's de rale picter of Massa Abe Linkum," cried Lucille, with dancing eyes. " De sogers done gib us all stiff-cats like dat yer." " And you gave the soldiers your money for this, Lu- cille?" queried Madame P . " Sartin, missy. De sogers done tell us dat Massa Linkum want to borry all de goold an' silber in Tuckapaw, jes' for three mont's, till de high ossifer done come up de bayou. Den, Lor bress you's dear heart, missy, we is gwine to hab all our names took down in de book for Massa Linkum, an' we is gwine to be 'clar'd 'mancipate for ebber an' ebber. Den we's git back all de goold an' silber, an' de high ossifer spec' he must be Massa Lin- kum's own chile he gibs all de cullud people de houses an' de gardens " " Well, Lucille, how much money did you all give to the soldiers ?" " Done gib dem all our sabin's, missy all what we sell de chickens fur, an' all we done git fur de moss, long 'fore de war." "Lucille, you are a great goose, and neither you nor your silly people will ever see your money again." "Lor* bress you heart, missy, we'se got de stiff-cats!" " Well, child, you have been cheated with your pre- cious * stiff-cats,* as you call them. I suppose Anne has one." " Yes, missy, an' Molly, an' Cassy, an' Phemy, an' eberybody. We is all s'kure." But poor Lucille learned, to her great chagrin, and DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 107 that of " eberybody," among the simple-minded commu- nity, that they were all the " victims of misplaced confu dence." Their white robes were never called into requi- sition, and they waited vainly for the advent of a " high ossifer" with greetings from "Massa Linkum." The whole thing was a wicked swindle of the poor blacks by some vagabond Federal soldiers, who had succeeded in obtaining upwards of eight hundred dollars in specie. The outpost established by my regiment, on Berwick shore, was one which should have been maintained and strengthened. I here mounted a score of my young men, daring fellows, who delighted in scouting sorties upon the road toward Pattersonville. These could have been kept always advanced, as vedettes, and would have been alert to discover any indications of hostile approach. During my brief occupation of this position, several rebel scouts were brought into camp as prisoners, securing for us items of intelligence regarding the enemy, which fore- shadowed his intentions. But " coming events" were not to be averted through foresight or watchfulness on our part. In a short time, we received orders to fall back over the Bay, and pitch our tents at Brashear. 108 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER X. BRASHEAR CITY. THE administration of military affairs at Brashear City, during three weeks of June, 1863, exhibits, on a small scale, the ruinous results of neglect by superiors and mismanagement by subordinates. Withdrawn from the" outpost on Berwick City shore, my regiment is now encamped at Brashear, about a quarter-mile from the rail -road depot, and on the shore between that point and Fort Buchanan. Behind us extends the camp of the Twenty-Third Connecticut Volunteers. On either side are other camps, occupied variously by cavalry squads, convalescents representing every regiment in the Depart- ment, and straggling soldiers, assumed to be detached for all sorts of purposes. In round numbers, there are probably a thousand privates, more or less able to do duty, who, unde,r nominal supervision of surgeons or sergeants, pass their days in lounging and card-playing, without or- ganization, drill, or duty. Probably, a hundred camp- followers and civilians might be added to the number of this idle population. For defence of the place, there are six companies of the One Hundred and Seventy sixth New York Infantry, under my command, as Lieutenant- Colonel; the Colonel being confined to his quarters by sickness ; two companies of the same regiment, acting as garrison of Fort Buchanan; several companies of the Twenty-Third Connecticut Infantry ; a detachment of the 21st Indiana Artillery, commanded by Captain Noblett, DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 109 and a few squads of cavalry and infantry, detailed for provost duty, or in charge of government property ; an effective sum total of perhaps six hundred rank and file. This is my computation of the force, at the time our oc- cupation of the Berwick shore is discontinued. At this date, Col. Walker has just been relieved by Col. Holmes; and within a very few days subsequently, Col. Holmes being attacked by fever, the command of Brashear City devolves on the Lieut. Colonel of the Twenty-Third Con- necticut Volunteers. Here we begin to snuff a breeze of danger. Previous to our recrossing the bay, my scouts, as has been mention- ed, captured several rebel stragglers, through whom we gained intelligence of a Confederate force concentrating on the Teche. Now we hear daily rumors of their pre- sence and increasing numbers between Pattersonville and Franklin. At daybreak, one morning, I receive abrupt orders to report my regiment at the steamboat wharf. The boys jump into line with alacrity, and " double-quick" to the spot. There I encounter the post commandant, looking very perplexed and flurried. He orders a crossing to Berwick City; presently counter- mands the order ; again commands the regiment to em- bark ; finally directs a retreat to camp and breakfast. In a few hours afterwards, our brass field pieces at the depot begin to play upon the Berwick shore. Somebody has asserted that rebel cavalry are dodging in Berwick woods. A score of shells must be sent over the water, by way of Yankee cards. The coming night develops general nervousness in and around post head-quarters. Quartermaster at the depot sneers about pusillanimity. Officers in knots gossip con- cerning telegrams, said to be despatched every hour to New Orleans, asking for aid and comfort. Distrust of 110 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE head-quarters competence shows itself among rank and file, as well as officers. Presently, another official panic sends us, at double- quick, to the steamboat wharf again. This time, we cross the ferry. I leave Major Morgans at Berwick City, in command of detachments from our own and the Connecti- cut regiment, and then, placing a howitzer on another ferry-boat, steam up the bay, and drop some shells into an old sugar-house, to dislodge an imaginary force of lurking rebels. Maj. Morgans patiently holds his ground, with a brass piece commanding the road, till I reinforce him, after supper, with whiskey rations for our arid troops. Thereafter, with Surgeon Willets, very daring and quite skeptical regarding proximity of foemen, I ride to the "front"; gallop a couple of miles over a moonlit road, outside the pickets, and return unscarred to the ferry. Infantry and artillery then get home to camp again. Shortly after this midnight campaign, our lieutenant- colonel-in-chief begs Gen. Emory to relieve him of that military nightmare which oppresses him in the shape of his post-command. Accordingly, General Emory, without apparently troubling himself to inquire concerning the real necessities of Brashear City, deputes a Napoleonic young lieutenant-colonel, who has been doing display duty at New Orleans during the season, to take command of our beleagured outpost. Subsequently, I learn particulars: how, when a fortieth or fiftieth telegram had reached Headquarters of the Defences of New Orleans, the Gen- eral had remarked : " This commandant at Brashear seems uneasy. He is determined to resign, and asks me to send somebody to relieve him. I know of nobody here." This is said in presence of a young attache, lately pro- vost-marshal at Thibodeaux; one Lieutenant Kingsley; DEPABTMENT OF THE GULF. Ill who opportunely interposes, with the suggestion : "Gen- eral, here's Lieut.-Col. Stickney, of my regiment, the Forty-J^ ^Massachusetts. He is doing nothing." " Well, let Stickney go !" So Lieut.-Colonel Stickney is relieved from the duty of attending public school festivals, in full dress, with the band of his regiment ; and, presently, he comes down to assume command of the Bay and its surroundings. Reporting at his quarters, I encounter a pragmatic young gentleman, of apparently feminine nerves, who starts at the fall of a book, entreats me to remain up all night with him, and thereupon, forgetting the request, lies down for a nap on the sofa. Meantime, he has signalized his mili- tary genius by ordering my regiment, under command of the major, to go and keep guard at the railr.oad depot till morning. A new military broom now begins to sweep. Vigilance and discipline cavort under double check-rein. Lieut.-Col. Stickney blooms into Acting Brigadier Stickney, and appoints our quondam provost-marshal Kingsley his aid-de-camp. Adjutant Whiting, of Twen- ty-Third Connecticut, rises to post-adjutant's dignity } therewith getting sleepless days and nights in prospect. Now begins the reign of real military excellence at last nine months martinetism on dress-parade. Our post-com- mandant becomes ubiquitous; riding on a black steed to my tent, at tattoo, to order the extinguishing of a lantern, lest rebels at Berwick City should take it for a target; gallopping on a white courser to the fort, with orders for the gunners to look well to their pieces. Post-orders indeed multiply hourly. Now, a squad of twelve men must report at head-quarters; now a company; now a lieutenant and twenty; presently the regiment is sum- moned to duty. I am directed to have a drum at my 112 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE pillow, for instant beating of the long roll ; to cause the men to keep awake all night ; to make them " sleep on their arms." No light must appear in camp; no gun be discharged, however foul. My men are "exercised" day and night ; marching to railroad depots, or dumped at stations, to fight mosquitos in darkness. Drilling gets chronic under a midsummer sun ; expeditions, with the gunboat and ferry steamers, make sorties to the bay shores and river-mouths; descents are ordered on Ber- wick City; a place which might be held, with three com- panies of infantry, a couple of howitzers, and a mud fort, against the whole rebel army. Bombardment of this tenantless town, and the lonely shore above it, goes on incessantly. A bunch of pendent moss can hardly stir in the breeze, on that Berwick side, but straightway Fort Buchanan launches its thunders, and our shore bat- teries pound at it. Occasionally a rebel spurs his mus- tang through the woods, or leisurely draws bridle on the beach road. Brashear City then becomes ludicrously militant. Cannons blaze, musketry rattles, convales- cents rush to the "front," with tobacco pipes in their mouths. A hundred missiles shower around the rebel, who dodges them easily, and rides off, laughing at us. Meantime, what is done to make Brashear City defen- sible, should a rebel assault be indeed threatened ? Fort Buchanan, commanding the Bay and the Atchafalaya mouths, with heavy siege guns, is yet entirely open to a rear attack. No line of earthworks, not even a rifle-pit, stockade, or block-house, defends the city from approaches by the railroad or the belt of woods that intervenes be- tween us and the labyrinth of lakes, accessible at any time by a rebel force from above. Pickets are thrown out nightly some mile or less behind the fort ; and a gun- boat, patrolling the bay, is supposed to take occasional DEPABTMENT OF THE GULF. 113 cognizance of the water approaches from that direction. Beyond this, Brashear City is entirely exposed to sur- prise from its hack country. But, here are a thousand, more or less, experienced, serviceable stragglers ; convalescents waiting to he ordered to their regiments. These men, drawing daily rations, and consuming them, are lying useless about their camps. Why are they not placed under efficient officers, organ- ized into companies, supplied with arms and ammunition from the mass of stores that have accumulated here ? These men are nearly all veterans. Brigade them with our regiments, and we shall have a force of two thousand men at Brashear City and the railroad stations. Add to these, two thousand negroes, who can be mustered in twen- ty-four hours, to dig and fortify the approaches to this post ; and who shall say that Brashear City is in danger ? I think General Emory, before experimenting with an important outpost through a post-commandant who wears out the energies of our few organized companies by extra duty, should have come here and examined matters for himself. Had he done so, we might now be occupying days and nights more usefully than in making Quixotic forays on the railroad line. But our acting brigadier is chief, and on him must devolve responsibility. So, when a captain and lieuten- ant of my regiment venture to suggest an organization of our loose forces and get themselves snubbed, for their pains I have no more to do about the administration of military affairs than simply to obey orders. But, finding myself rudely reprimanded, one morning, on account of a certain number of pieces being foul at gdard-mounting in my regiment, I remark to the post- commandant, that he might have ordered my officer of the guard to report to. me. 114 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE " You are to blame, sir you !" exclaims the acting brigadier, fulminating from his saddle, on my devoted head, as ^ sit at breakfast, in front of my tent. "I beg pardon, sir. According to regulation, I in- spected every piece in -the regiment, no longer ago than last Sunday. The muskets that are dirty must belong to the pickets which were out, sir." " It is your fault, sir ! Consider yourself under ar- rest, sir !" " Consider myself under arrest?" "Yes, sir!" " Very well, sir !" I reply, saluting. And my supe- rior officer (by virtue of a month's priority of date in commission) rides off, at a gallop. I finish my breakfast and wait for the post-adjutant, or some other officer, to come and demand my sword ; but nobody appears. Towards evening, I walk over to Col. Nott's quarters, a house near one of the flanks. The Colonel is convales- cing from his late illness, but yet too feeble for duty. I relate to him the last exploit of our acting-brigadier, in placing me under arrest. To Col. Nott the affair appears ridiculous. " Did he. take your sword ?" " No, sir ; nor has he sent for it." " It looks like a joke," remarks the Colonel, laughing. But I assure him it is no joke ; and we presently con- clude that I had better return to my tent, lest the post- commander should order me into close confinement. Next day, another vital expedition is ordered up the river in steamers, and on the Berwick shore. It achieves a sight of several rebels, and makes display of skirmish- ing ; with the loss of one man of my regiment, who shoots himself, accidentally, on board the steamer. Our war- worn soldiers return at dusk, and are ordered to " sleep on their arms." Next morning, another expedition is re- DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 115 ported on the tapis ; but the men are allowed a little needed rest. Just before sunset, as I sit at my tent en- trance, Col. Stickney rides up to me, with a salute. " Col. Duganne ! you will consider yourself released from arrest after dress-parade, this evening !" " Very well, sir ! n I reply, saluting. The actiog-brigadier turns his horse's head. Then, with a smile " But those guns were very dirty, Colonel !" " You might have ordered the officer of the guard to report that fact to me, sir." Col. Stickney smiles faintly. " You will report for duty to-morrow morning, Colonel.'* " I fear, I shall not be able, sir !" I reply. During the day, I had been attacked with a prevailing disorder. ''Very well; as soon as you are able!" rejoins the post-commandant, and rides off. It is the last I see of our Acting Brigadier General. I hear, subsequently, that he behaves* with courage and discretion at Lafourche Crossing, where, with my regiment, under its brave Major, and some companies of the Connecticut volunteers, he succeeds in repulsing a rebel force of two thousand cavalry. The quality of gallantry redeems many errors that arise from inexperience; and it may be, that Lieut. Col. Stickney, under other circumstances, might have ac- complished more than he did at Brashear City. But I cannot reject the conclusion, to which every one conver- sant with our military administration during the month of June, must arrive, that, had the time mis-spent, in daily and nightly forays, been properly devoted to or- ganization and defence, there would have been another ending to this campaign than the disgraceful capture of Brashear City and its railroad line to New Orleans. 116 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XI. REBELS IN THE REAR. I HEAR myself called at midnight, on the nineteenth of July, and recognize Major Morgans' voice at my cot-side. He has just received an order from Col. Stickney, to march with our regiment to the railroad. My stout Major is wearied out by late exertions, and would gladly have a respite. He inquires if I can take command, but I have not yet reported for duty. Both of us suppose that this nocturnal expedition, like all previous ones, will bring up at some rail road station, or, perhaps, get no farther than Brashear depot. "I shall report in the morning," I remark; "and then you may have a rest, Major!" Unfortunate alternative for me! Major Morgans goes off, with our men, to fight the battle of Lafourche Crossing; I remain, to march in another direction, toward the dreary goal of a Texan prison. Early next morning, I ride to headquarters, expecting to find Col. Stickney, and report to him. He has gone, with the troops, and left Major Anthony in command of the post. With Major Anthony I have no acquaintance, but learn that he is a cavalry officer, sojourning tempo- rarily at Brashear City. I ride in various directions, endeavoring to meet him, without success. Meantime, a train of cars loaded with stores, which, pursuant to orders from Col. Stickney, had followed him at a later hour, returns with alarming intelligence. The communication with Lafourche is cut off. A rebel force, DEPAETMENT OF THE GULF. 117 of cavalry and artillery, occupies Terrebonne station. Lieut. Lyons, of my regiment, posted in a small stockade at that point, has been made a prisoner. Presently, I encounter Major Anthony. "Major! I learn that you are in command of the post. I am senior officer here, but not having been able to report for duty before Col. Stickney left, I suppose I cannot relieve you without orders. 1 ' "I wish you could, Colonel," replies the Major. "Col. Stickney, it is likely, left me in command because you had not yet reported." "Well, Major," I rejoin; *'we need not differ, on the point of rank. I will, if you please, go to Bayou Bceuff, which has now become the front, and make dispositions to receive the enemy." " I shall be glad if you will do so, Colonel. I can give you an infantry company, to add to the force at Bayou Boeuff!" " If you will give orders to collect some thirty or forty of the horses that are ranging on the commons, I will try to muster riders, and make a cavalry squadron, for duty at the front." "I will attend to that at once," answers the Major; "and have the horses reported at your quarters." I ride back to camp, and begin to look about for cavalry recruits. Most of my young adventurers (and the "Iron- sides" regiment can boast a goodly proportion of youthful and dashing braves) are with the main body, under Col. Stickney. Of the remaining rank and file, a majority have been on picket for three days, and I see no prospect of relieving them. A few, beaten out, and some really sick, are in camp. Out of these, I muster fifteen, ready to take saddle for scouting duty. Captain Coe, though on the sick-list, volunteers to lead them. 118 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Blunders and delays regarding the horses, prevent us from getting off. Mayor Anthony fails to organize the promised infantry company. The day wanes, and nothing is done toward organizing convalescents or strengthening our defences. Here, then, is the condition of Brashear City. Left, during months, without personal supervision by those charged with the responsibility of defending New Orleans, this outpost is, at last, cut off from its base. While in daily expectation of an enemy in front of the fortifications, we find ourselves suddenly menaced from the rear. All the country above Berwick Bay is actively hostile. The approaches to our railroad lines, wrested from rebel occu- pation by hard fighting two months ago, when General Banks marched, via. the Attakapas district, to Port Hudson, have lapsed into the possession of our enemies. Forced back behind the water front of Brashear, and attempting to occupy, with less than one thousand effect- ive men, the whole railroad between this point and Al- giers, we now find our small force split in twain by an invading army of rebels. A month has been wasted in useless daily explorations of the bay shores ; in bootless expeditions, by night, upon the railroad. Our convalescents, many of them veterans, have been allowed to shirk the simplest duty, instead of being brigaded and drilled for defence. Aimless and de- sultory, the military operations, during weeks past, have left us at last in a condition which invites attack by an alert and well-informed foe. The camp of my regiment is located about midway between the depot and Fort Buchanan. Separated from our front by the bay's breadth only, Berwick City lies completely under range of our batteries. At a point op- posite our ferry wharf, stand a few large vacant buildings, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 119 used as hospitals while we held that side of the water. Along the Berwick front, likewise, are several detached dwelling houses and other structures, some tenanted, but the greater number without occupants. On our own shore, in front of the camps, which are pitched thickly for the space of half a mile, along the roads, are posted, three field pieces, guarded by reliefs of infantry. A line of sentinels and pickets is thrown along the water-road to points beyond the fort. Such is the military condition of Brashear City, on the evening of the day when Lieut.-Col. Stickney, leaving his post, takes with him all our effective infantry. Two companies of the 176th N. Y. Volunteers, supporting the Indiana batteries at Fort Buchanan, together with strag- gling squads of my own and the Connecticut regiment, detailed as provost-guards, or on picket duty, constitute the defensive establishment of this important outpost of New Orleans, while its late commandant finds himself at Lafourche Crossing, thirty miles distant, cut off from his base by a rebel force, several thousand strong, which has struck the railroad station three miles in his rear. A fitting interlude of the child's play, whereby a month has been frittered in sham sorties, which might have been vitally employed in local organization; a fitting in- terlude, between past folly and the retribution that is to come, transpires, this night, in the burning of Berwick City. Of course, we have been battering that forsaken local- ity, as a diurnal recreation, since our evacuation of it. I know not how many tons of ammunition have blazed against the stupidly-silent place during thirty days past ; but it has seemed a customary relaxation for the controllers of government shot and shell, to drop those gentle missiles on Berwick whenever the whim seized them. I am hardly 120 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE prepared, however, for a wanton firing of the lonely town ; and trust that no one is prior to it but the naval hero, commanding our solitary gunboat. He it is who distin- guishes himself by this vandal deed. Three days hence, he will perform another exploit, in shamefully abandoning Brashear City at the very outset of rebel assault upon it. War is revolting, even in its best aspect. Stripped of plumed helmet and glittering armor, Bellona appears in no very charming light, as a truculent woman ; and the soldier in rags and filth becomes no hero to the eyes of romance. Grand and beautiful is patriotism struggling against foreign invasion; and liberty breasting tyranny is sublime, whether clothed in peasant homespun or ar- rayed in knightly panoply. But divest war of all ab- stract merits, and it is resolved at once into craft and violence. Coarse strength and sharp cunning achieve victory ; the heaviest artillery decides conquest ; the richest exchequer assures possession. Nevertheless, no one doubts that war, like thunder and lightning, freshets and tornadoes, may have necessity, utility, and beneficence. The end, though not always justifying, will often be found to excuse the means ; and it is not to be denied that radical diseases call for radical treatment, in politics as well as therapeutics. Thus, we accept our present national conflict as the result of a po- litical, perhaps a moral, exigency, requiring medical in- terposition of the heroic school, to save national life. We recognize design brooding over the chaos of our troubles, and anticipate renewed order, to be evoked out of ele- mentary disintegration. The " inexorable logic of events" overrides qualm- ishness in military men ; nevertheless, I deprecate all acts, which, like the firing of Berwick City, and kindred abuses of power, can be justified by no necessity. DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 121 I am seated under an oak, before my tent. The evening is dark, and no lights are allowed in camp. Suddenly, a bright light shoots up from Berwick shore, and I have hardly time to walk from my quarters, past a half-dozen company streets, to the flank, when a blaze, wide and fierce, as if of an hour's duration, appears upon the water front opposite. Berwick City is on fire. From wall to roof, from gar- den-fence to out-building, from hedge-row to orchard trees, a devastating flame sweeps along the shore road. Broader and higher the blaze grows momently, throwing its baleful glow on the waters of the bay, and up against the back-ground of forest and clouded sky. I never saw a conflagration spread more rapidly or more devouringly than this. The fiery tongues dart from casements, doors, and eaves, licking up the dry woodwork, like stubble. Roofs, corridors, galleries, are ignited, and the red ele- ment extends and mounts, right and left, in lurid wings. Augmenting in volume till midnight, it is not until near morning that the fire becomes exhausted, for lack of materials to feed upon. The wooden buildings which served us for hospitals and warehouses, with many dwell- ings and detached edifices, are consumed leaving the lower portion of Berwick City a blackened waste. 122 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XII. SABBATH AT LAFOUK.CHE. THE rebels choose favorable seasons for their ad- venturous descents. General Banks, with the main strength of his department, is encamped before Port Hudson. He has made repeated assaults on its stout defenses, with no results but the decimation of " forlorn hopes." Thousands of his gallant men have perished, by disease more than from wounds. Meantime, the enemy rallying immediately on the track of our late Federal raid, have repossessed themselves of the back country, from Vermillion and Teche bayous, to Atchafalaya and Mississippi rivers. They pour down from the Texan border ; they swarm on western banks of the Father of Waters. Thus it occurs, that, on the eventful Saturday which Col. Stickney selected for his expedition to Lafourche Crossing, a rebel force of about three thousand cavalry comes charging down the upper waters of this very La- fourche . Dispatched by Louisianian General Mouton, under command of Col. Major West Point graduate in Con- federate service a raid of wild riders dashes down the bayou banks, discomfits a handful of Americans at Plaque- mine, scours through Napoleon and Labadie, and swoops upon a brace of feeble companies at Thibodeaux. The astonished Federals stay not for compliments, but make good use of horse legs, mule legs, and legs generally, to cover the four mile road, between Thibodeaux and La- DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 123 fourche Crossing, in the shortest running time on record except the run from Bull Run. A race indeed along that narrow bayou road, with double-barrelled shot-guns and border rifles cracking like champagne corks ; our fugitives lassoed by twos and threes, till half a hundred or more find themselves turned to the right-about toward Thibodeaux jail. Six hundred rebel horsemen, riding and yelling like Cumanches, pursue our flying provost- marshals, dispersed plantation guards, and suddenly-re- lieved pickets, almost to the mouths of Lafourche bat- teries. A discharge of twelve and thirty-two pound guns turns them back, but only to meet and merge in Major's main body, which, to the number of two thousand, rapidly brings up their rear. For an hour or two, they deploy and reconnoitre, in the manner of Arabs, and then take cover in the dense woods and close plantation-fields which bor- der Lafourche bayou. Not wholly idle, however, are these half-starved and half-naked Bedouins. Thibodeaux boasts several groce- ries and a few sutler shops* Thibodeaux harbors num- bers of rebel sympathizers, on fine estates and in suburban chateaux. Thibodeaux " secesh" damsels are pretty and numerous, and its orchards luxuriant and tempting. Thibodeaux counts hundreds of negroes, male and fe- male, easy to "gobble," and of clear money value. So the rebels break over that quiet "ville," with most charm- ing varieties of looseness. While dashing cavalry officers lend gold-braided arms to interesting plantation widows and their dark-eyed Creole daughters, just out of the con- vent day-school; while improvised provost-marshal men take note of captured " Yanks,*' and consign them to un- derground cells of the stone prison ; while scouts and patrols whip in reluctant darkies to new masters; the rank and file of raiders begin to solace themselves for 124 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE long abstinence, by the discussion of fat beeves, United States brand flour, real " Lincoln" coffee, and (that prize of all prizes for rebels) United States commissary whis- key. Canteens, bottles, flasks, and gourds are quickly filled and replenished; pint-dipperfuls are lost in rebel gullets, till half the force get staggering drunk, and the other half wait for a chance to be. Confederate commanders rule their ragged cohorts with iron authority, but are careless concerning discip- line, so long as no immediate attack is apprehended. Manifestly the rebel officers know with what small num- bers they have to deal, and that Col. Stickney, who con- trols some five hundred Federals at Lafourche Crossing, will not be likely to trust them from the shelter of his railroad-grading defences. The capture of Thibodeaux, they know, commands two roads diverging from it, to the two crossings at Lafourche and Terrebonne ; these roads describing a scalene triangle, with the railroad for its hypotheneuse. A small circular earthwork, stockaded and ditched around by our New York boys, at Terre- bonne Crossing, contains a company of less than thirty men, left there to defend it. Col. Major, after chasing the Federals from Thibodeaux to Lafourche by one leg of the triangle, sends a troop of his screeching butternuts to attack Terrebonne by the other leg. Headlong they gallop towards our stockade, and hoist a white flag, Lieut. Lyons goes out to parley. A demand for sur- render is made. Lyons replies that the stockade was not built for that purpose; whereupon a revolver is drawn upon him, and a big oath or two. At this junc- ture, up steams a train from Lafourche, bringing orders from Col. Stickney to evacuate, which our stockade-men obey, en masse, escaping to the cars. In another moment a whistle shrieks, the engine is reversed, and away DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 125 speeds the train for Lafourche again. Our young com- mander, Lieut. Lyons, is left on the ground, with a white flag above, and the rebels advancing to capture him. " You are my prisoner, sir ! Go with me, or I'll blow you brains out!" cries a rebel officer, presenting his re- volver at Lieut. Lyons. At the same time, his mounted followers charge up the railroad track, fire off their pis- tols and shot-guns at the retreating steam-engine, and then draw bridles, to vent maledictions upon " Yankee treachery." So, my unlucky sous-officer of the "Iron- sides" is compelled to see his brave company receding towards safety, while his own feet must measure the road to Thibodeaux jail, and thereafter march painfully to a Texan prison-pen. During Saturday night, the rebel camp at Thibodeaux presents a scene of hilarious triumph. Commissary and sutlers' stores are without money or price, and whiskey rations call for no quartermasters' vouchers. The "bonny blue flag" gets bluer than ever ; for at least a dozen bar- rels of " red eye" are mixed with the grey-backed clay of rebellion, till every " sans-culotte " of them can lay claim to a "brick in his hat." Sabbath is not religiously kept in Thibodeaux parish next day. There are more stores to ransack, niggers to 'lick," Yankee prisoners to bedevil, and the whiskey jollification continues. Scouting parties, scouring .the roads, at full gallop, and clattering over bayou bridges like wild huntsmen ; yells that make the owls hoot at midday in Bayou Blue swamp woods ; cheers for Jeff. Davis, and a choral refrain about capturing New Orleans to the tune of " Dixie ;" with such little dalliances as eating, smoking, and drinking whiskey, make up the order of rebel discipline in and about the captured " ville," while down Lafourche bayou sweeps cavalry in twos and 126 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE fours, making sudden onsets on Federal pickets, and wheeling in and out of our lines, for pure mischief and bravado. The rebel commander, however, means more than me- nace to the Yankees. Towards sunset he begins to bestir himself. Bugles sound along his lines, ragged cavaliers take loving swigs at whiskey cans, and swing themselves into saddle ; and before dusk the entire force, consisting of Major's, Phillips' and Pyron's regiments, with addi- tions from Mouton's Creole levy sets off from Thibodeaux for a dash at Lafourche Crossing, to carry the bridge at once, and bag five hundred "Yanks" by supper-time. Such a roaring, leaping, riotous set never galloped before to a battle-field. Every man is more or less intoxicated, and some so drunk that, if they were not Texans and born riders, they could never keep their saddles. The afternoon was showery, and as this motley array gallops down the bayou banks, a terrible thunderstorm breaks overhead, discharging torrents of sheeted rain. I never saw the water come down in greater volume than it did that day on the Opelousas Railroad line flooding the fields, raising the water courses, making roads like lakes, and bridle-paths impassable. Major and his rebel horde seem to exult in the elemental war above them. They charge down the road, and up against the embankment behind which our American batteries are posted, with resolution worthy of a better cause than treason. Per- haps they anticipate an easy victory ; perchance they ex- pect to send our five hundred Yankees flying like chaff > before their mustang ponies. Never were traitors more suddenly brought to a realizing sense, however. Their columns are permitted to gallop within a hundred yards of our position, when, from the big thirty-two, and the three twelve-pounder howitzers, leaps out a withering DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 127 fire of grape and canister, flanked by steady volleys from our infantry, who stand up to the work like veterans. Then it is that our " Ironsides" major gives an example of coolness inspiring to his men. Discarding all instruc- tions of Casey, as to firing by file in line of battle, the gal- lant Morgans sings his orders out as if at musket drill. "Men," he had whispered, while the enemy were yet at a distance, "you know my voice. Now don't fire a gun till I give the order. Recollect, men !" And when the rebel front comes nigh, and the word is passed to our can- noneers, and grape and canister hurtle over the levee, both sides can hear rebels no less than Federals a loud, clear voice above the din of strife: " Ready ! aim ! fire ! Rear rank, ready ! aim ! fire ! Front rank, ready ! aim ! fire ! Rear rank " And our brave boys stand up to the drill as if at dress- inspection. They bite off cartridges, and load, and ram down, and half-face to a ready, and take aim, and their deadly fire tells the rest of the story ; till rebel horsemen reel, and their steeds, with loose bridles, break before the Yankee hurricane. That voice, giving orders like a drill- master; those volleys, regular as rifle practice ; surely, no nine months' discipline is here, our enemies say ; and they tell us afterwards that they thought our troops were "regulars," so cool did they show themselves under a Texan charge, with all its yells and aboriginal devilry. But, though recoiling from the deathful greeting which met their first charge, the rebels are soon rallied by their oflicers. Forming a second line of battle, they advance again, with headlong determination, stopping not for grape or canister ; resolved to ride down both our guns and gunners. But that ringing order peals again "Rear rank, ready! aim! fire!" and again leap out the respon- eive volleys from our infantry lines. A score of saddles 128 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE are emptied, a score of horses careering confusedly while yet forty yards from our batteries. They retreat, in dis- ordered ranks. Voices of officers, sounding out of the melee, vainly urge them to the fiery parapet. The second charge rolls back repulsed. Our American soldiers have breathing time again. Colonel Major little expected such an obstacle. His march from the Sabine had thus far been a mere pleasure excursion ; but Lafourche Crossing shows a lion in his path. Here are two or three thousand Texan "invinci- bles" fljing back from a mud bank, like so many Mexican "greasers." Scores of these dare-devil cavalry lie dead or dying under the levee, within a hundred feet of the Yankee lines. Those batteries must be carried at all hazard. West Point Major forms his line for a third charge. More swigs at whiskey cans; a sounding of bugles; a quick, sharp order, "Charge!" from centre to flanks; and the rebels are riding on again. This, indeed, is a desperate onset, almost achieving victory. Rowels are driven into the horses ; a fierce war-whoop rings from front to rear, and the charging squadrons bear down like thunder-clouds, with a lurid flame from the muzzles of their guns marking the line of advance. Well for our brave men that, under previous charges, they stood up to their drill exercise so coolly. Again listening for Morgans' trumpet voice, the gallant New York and Con- necticut boys remain steady, like veterans, while our artillerymen sight their cannon against the black, advanc- ing masses that come sweeping through torrents of rain. Up the embankment this time; up to the cannon mouths; yes ! over howitzers and into infantry ranks, the rebels sweep like a tornado. They drive back gunners and mus- keteers, they leap from their saddles, closing upon our DEPABTMENT OP THE GULF. 129 bayonets, bestriding our field-pieces with yells of triumph,. But the Americans answer with an American hurrah, and when that ceases, the steady emphasis of Morgans* tone is heard "Rear rank! ready! aim! fire!" A terrible volley and a fierce charge of our infantry repulse the foe a third- time, strewing his dead upon the bayou road, as thick as falling leaves in November. In vain the Texan chiefs dash hither and thither; in vain they roar com- mands till their throats grow hoarse. The rebel spirit is broken, for the day, and even whiskey cannot bring them to time again. They scatter to the roadside, disperse, and rally in close order, and then, turning bridles for Thibodeaux, are lost in the shades of advancing night. One desperado only lingers where the rebels pierced our lines. Maddened by alcohol, he charged upon a howitzer, and sprang from his saddle, at its muzzle. Here, unable to keep his legs, he fells forward on the gun, clasping it with both arms, and yelling, with an oath, "Surrender, Yank! this piece is mine!" "Take it!" replies the Yankee gunner, with a sword- thrust that pierces the rebel's midriff. This ends Texan "charging" on Lafourche Crossing. A hundred dead rebels are left upon the field, and the sum of their wounded reaches double that number. 130 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XIII. BAYOU BCEUFF. SABBATH morning brings flying rumors from all quar- ters. We hear of fighting, at Lafourche and Thibodeaux ; of rebel advances on the railroad line. In the afternoon, Lieut. Robens, of my regiment, Deputy Provost Marshal, stationed at Tigerville, reports at camp. From him, I glean several items of intelligence respecting the condi- tion of affairs upon the railroad line. As far back as Thursday last, this young officer received hints concern- ing the rebel advance, which he communicated to the Provost General by letter. A person, who represented himself as a Union fugitive from Alexandria, brought news that "Dick Taylor" was moving down the Teche, with fifteen thousand men; and that his main object was the recapture of New Orleans. On Friday, a negro woman sought protection from a mistress, who had cruelly whip- ped her, while her master, standing by, boasted that his friends would soon drive the Yankees from Terre- bonne, when he should be able to take the "airs out of his niggers" once more. On Saturday, the negroes crowd- ed into Tigerville, bringing exaggerated accounts of rebel forces, and more credible statements regarding the sym- pathy with which their appearance was greeted by treach- erous white men who had pretended to support our cause. My poor black loyalists at Tigerville are eager to make a stand. They demand arms, declaring that they will fight to the death, rather than return to bondage. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 131 Capt. Bailey, D eputy Provost Marshal at Houma, arrives at Brashear, this Sabbath day, reporting rebels to be in large numbers on the road between Houma and Tiger- ville. A locomotive reconnoissance, upon the railroad, returns toward evening, with information that rebel horse- men were encountered near Chickahoula. During the afternoon, a violent thunder storm breaks over Brashear; and pluvial showers descend upon our camps. Toward dusk, having mustered my small force, I take cars for Bayou Bceuff, leaving the horses to follow by the wagon road. Steaming through rain and darkness, we reach the front, and disembark in mud and water. This dreary and drenched camp at Bayou Boouff offers scant shelter. I find a single company of my regiment, under Lieutenant Kirby ; some thirty effectives ; bivouacked beneath pro- tecting eaves of a decaying sugar-house roof. The ground about them is shared by a detachment of the Twenty-First Indiana Siege Artillery, under Lieut. Sherfy, who, with Lieut. Kirby's men, lately garrisoned Fort Chene, a harbor fortification some miles below Brashear City. These combined commands had received orders from Col. Stick- ney, to evacuate the fort, destroy its defences, and report, with its heavy pieces, three in number, at Bayou Bceuff. Accordingly, they are here, and I dig my way, through yellow mire, to their flank, where Lieut. Kirby contrives to seat me in a dry corner of his narrow quarters. Therefrom, after hearing some reports, I seek lodging in a neighboring hut, and sleep the sleep of weariness, till morning. Monday opens a day of activity. Keceiving reports and property accounts from Captain Sanford, of the Twen- ty-Third Connecticut Volunteers, who, with three com- panies of his regiment, has occupied the post, I assume command, and prepare to get our defensive materiel in 132 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE working condition. Much to my surprise, on inspection of the siege-pieces, I find them planted on the Brashear side of Bayou Bo3uff; a weak position, if assaulted by any force capable of flanking movements. Slight earth- works have been thrown up, on the levee, and a cannon is mounted near the bridgehead, on one side of the railroad track, in line with two others, which command half a mile or more of the opposite shore and highway approaches from Tigerville. A signal tower, erected by. General Weitzel, for observation of the surrounding country, has been demolished, as I learn, under the same sagacious orders which caused Fort Chene to be abandoned and its cannon brought to this place. Is this another manifesta- tion of that military genius which denuded Brashear City of effectives, and left the Opelousas railroad to be sev- ered by a sudden dash of rebels into Terrebonne ? I mentally ask this question ; but have no time to speculate further. This railroad crossing, at Bayou Boauff, is now the point to be defended, and it only re- mains for me to make the best of defensive facilities. The land is low on both sides of the railroad ; only on the levee banks, or on the track, can our artillery obtain a proper range. I order one siege-piece to be elevated to a position on the grade ; but my judgment convinces me that we are on the wrong side of the bridge, for an effective defence of this post. The rebels are known to be in force at Terrebonne, twenty miles distant by the rail, and their advance may be looked for hourly. Could I have time to erect a line of earthworks, at the other bridge-end, to stretch from the bayou-bank to the timber which crosses the roads, we might hold the BoeufF against an enemy with hopes of suc- cess ; for our flanks would be difficult to molest, unless approached by heavier artillery. A fort, of earth and DEPAKTMENT OF THE GULP. 133 cypress logs, upon the other bank, well-victualled and supplied with ammunition, would be better still, and with it I could keep the enemy at bay effectually. Such are my reflections in surveying the position ; but there is no time for " change of base," with rebels in a half day's march of us. To learn the ground, and com- prehend its approaches, becomes my first concern, and I lose no time in mustering a dozen of my hard-riding " Ironsides" boys, to go " on scout" and gather information. Noontime arrives, and with it a locomotive, in charge of Lieut. Stevenson, of my regiment, dispatched for a " reconnoissance" upon the railroad. It carries a twelve- pound howitzer, mounted on a freight-car, fenced by planks and timber buttresses ; with sharp-shooters behind, to pick off rebel pickets, should they show themselves. Our Brashear gun-boat now steams up, and fastens to the bridge, and her valorous captain counsels me to pull that structure down, to keep the rebel cavalry from charging over it. I decline the loan of his hawser for such pur- pose, however, and only make use of the war vessel, to send on her some dozen sick men to our Brashear hospi- tal. So the gunboat steams off again, and in an hour or more the reconnoitring train comes back, with all its armament and sharp-shooters intact and bloodless. Nevertheless, this rail road battery has visited Terre- bonne, and the howitzer has discoursed with rebel artil- lery, Our iron-horse vedettes made a dash through Tigerville and Chickahoula, and then bore on, with loco- motive at the rear, until they neared the open fields of Terrebonne, where Winder's rich plantation skirts one side of the rail road, and Tanner's sugar-grounds hem in the other. Here they saw rebels tearing up rails, and rebels burrowing in earthworks, and rebel cavalry cavort- ing over neighboring roads and meadows. So, they 134 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE stopped, and bowled a shell upon the enemy; whereat a rebel battery opened on them; and thus, satisfied with re- connaissance, and exchanging one or two more shots with rebeldom, they reversed the engine just in time to escape a dash of cavalry, and are here safely to report the result of a railroad excursion. So much I learn through the reconnoissance, that the enemy had not yet left Terre- bonne, and I mentally resolve on breaking ground for a fort on the opposite levee. It is evident, that the rebels are in force at Thibodeaux, and not to be doubted, that they will soon advance upon the Bceuff. But could time be left me, to throw up defences, on the eastern bridge- head, so that roads and plateaus, leading to the railway, might be thus commanded, while musketry and howitzer prevent attempts at crossing from the lakes, or the upper bayou I have confidence in my ability to hold the Bceuff, until our Brashear garrison can be relieved by way of the Gulf. Thus encouraged, I at once send out a squad as pickets, on a hand-car, with orders to repair to Tigerville, some twelve miles distant by the highway, and by rail road seven. They are instructed to organize a horse and foot patrol of certain blacks, selected from plantations on their route, and known to me as bold and trusty partisans of ours. Then, strengthening the pickets near our camp, and sending scouts to scour the various roads, with orders to be vigilant, I see the sun set on my first day of com- mand at Bayou Bceuff. No repose yet, however. I must talk with anxious citizens, who bring reports of rebel scouts, and claim protection as good Union men ; and I must question wide- mouthed contrabands from -Bayou Black estates, who "seed a rebel" here and there, behind a hundred bushes. Primary care of all, I must dispatch a messenger to work DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 135 his way through rebel lines, and reach Lafourche; for there, perhaps, are "acting-brigadier" Stickney, and my regiment; and there, in that case, is the telegraph still safe, connecting with head-quarters at New Orleans. So I pen a hasty note, reporting my position, and forthwith provide a saddled horse for Sergeant Lewis, who volun- teers to ride, walk, crawl, or swim his way to our lines at Lafourche Crossing. "Heaven speed my messenger!" I mentally pray, as he rides away though the twilight. He can make thirty miles to night, on the road toward Houma, and to-morrow he may take the swamp, and so pass from Bayou Blue to Lafourche, unnoticed. Lieut. Kirby has pitched a tent for me to-day, and my cook George ought to be getting supper, but has not yet returned from Brashear, whither he went, this morning, for our rations. Toussaint, my groom, arrives with the horse, "Black Roman." John remains in camp, at Bra- shear, with our baggage. So I must accept my lieute- nant's coffee and hard bread, or lie down supperless. I throw myself upon a blanket, but am aroused im- mediately. A scout brings intelligence of boats seen crossing at Lake Pelourde. It is a movement which may threaten some design on Brashear City. A force from Pelourde might strike the rear of both Bayou Boeuff and Brashear. It is from Brashear that such a force must be reconnoitred or repelled. I look around, for a mes- senger, and Lieut. Robens, of my regiment, opportunely presents himself. I direct him to mount and ride at once to Brashear, report what I have learned to Major Antho- ny, and have him take the speediest measures for de- fence. Presently, I hear the lieutenant gallopping from camp. It is now nine o'clock. He should reach Bra- shear City between ten and eleven. I lie down again. From unrefreshing sleep I rise early. It is Tuesday, 136 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE the twenty-third day of June, a balmy morning, redolent of summer sweets. I hear the wheels of a hand car on the railroad. It is the Tigerville picket, ordered to report to me at sunrise. A steam whistle shrieks from the woods west of us. That must be the train from Brashear City. Major Anthony promised yesterday that con- stant commuication should be kept between our camps. I hope this train brings George, with rations. But it is a locomotive only; and Conductor "Billy" reports, that "The rebels are shelling Brashear." "Ah ! they are at Berwick then ! But where are your cars, sir?" "I thought I would come and report, sir. The rebels are in great force opposite Brashear." " You had better go back, and couple on the commis- sary train, if danger be threatened." The Conductor sprang on his engine. " I cannot tell what may have happened," he remarked. "For fear of accident, I shall make a signal when I return two screams of the steam-whistle, with a pause between them." The locomotive rattles away, and I turn, to hear the report of my railroad picket. "All right at Tigerville, Colonel!" "Have you seen nothing of the enemy, sergeant?" "No rebels about, Colonel. I had fifty darkeys on horses and mules, scouting all night, sir. Not a reb to be seen this side of Chuckahoula." "Did you leave any of your squad at Tigerville?" "No, sir! I was ordered to report to camp at sunrise." "Take another squad a relief and go back, for the day. I desire you to remain with them, sergeant." "Yes, sir!" And my sergeant, who like most of the non-commissioned officers of Co. I, can be trusted for duty DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 137 and discipline at all times, goes out to detail the day- picket for Tigerville. In a few minutes, I hear his hand- car rumbling over the rails again. But the non-arrival of a train, with George and my ra- tions, suggests another jour maigre, and I must forage for breakfast presently. Meantime, a cup of coffee un- failing matinal stimulant in this sultry clime restores my equipoise. Toussaint saddles " Black Roman," and I ride to the earthworks, musingly. It is a brilliant morning, and the broad bosom of Bayou Bceuff flashes back golden sunshine. I look over the placid landscape ; over woods rocking in green luxuriance; over quiet waters laving the levee banks ; over peaceful cottages bowered in fragrant orchards. Who would dream that foes are threatening discord and conflict? that black-mouthed cannon are needed here, or that fire shall menace ruin to these home- steads? The rumble of a hand-car, upon the rail-track, recalls me from reflective mood. Tigerville pickets return, with a report, that rebels in force are within ten and eight miles of this position. Their main body of cavalry is advancing from the Chickahoula road, through Tigerville, and must soon reach Bayou Boeuff. Already, a stream of black fugitives from Terrebonne plantations begins to flow into camp. It is the twenty-third day of June. At this hour, our comrades at Lafourche Crossing, being reinforced from New Orleans, are marching upon Thibodeaux, to find that place evacuated by Colonel Major and his rebels. But this movement is yet unknown to me; just as the im- minent peril of Brashear City remains undisclosed to its late post-commandant. Imminent peril, indeed! Suddenly, I hear the signal- whistles of Conductor "Billy;" and the crash of a brace 138 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of locomotives shakes the track, as they rush into the station. "Billy" springs from the leading engine. "Colonel! Brashear is captured by the rebels!" "Captured!" "They 've got it, sir! Came in from the woods, at our rear! It was a complete surprise, sir!" " Where is the train of cars you were to bring in ?" "I could not hitch on this engine to it, sir; as the other was between me and the cars ?" "Why did you not "hitch" the other one, then?" " That was not strong enough to draw the train." I do not, at this moment, ask the Conductor why he failed to make both locomotives fast to our train of stores, and bring its valuable freight out of the Brashear City depot. Of little account are questions of any sort, at this stage of events; since I have learned the main, dis- astrous fact, that our base of supplies and safety is now in rebel possession. Cut off and isolated; my feeble post menaced in front and rear; I am now to consider the immediate peril of my own situation. Very soon I get definite accounts of the morning's oc- currences at the Bay. My Quartermaster, Lieut Kimhall, reports; bringing wagons containing his own effects, with some regimental property, and a few trunks. Toussaint, George, and John, my servants, arrive next, and present- ly, numbers of fugitives, soldiers and non-combatants, flock in by highway and railroad. The loss of Brashear is confirmed; and the details thereof take shape under voluble narration of a hundred tongues. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 139 CHAPTER XIV. REBEL SCHEMES. GATHERING on the Louisianian borders, from Red River regions above Shreveport, far down to Sabine banks, and, lower still, to the pine-woods and marshes that trend upon waters of the Gulf, the rebel hordes, under various leaders, ranged over prairies and timber bottoms. Gen- eral "Dick Taylor," son of old "Rough and Ready," commanded the Texan mounted infantry, which, in regi- ments, " legions," and partisan bands, had crossed the Sabine at Niblett's Bluff, and occupied extensive open tracts lyingbetween the rivers Calcasieu and Atchafalaya. General Mouton, brother to a former governor of Louis- iana, collecting all the refugees from New Orleans and lower regions of the Mississippi ; all the Creoles and "Cagians" who could be coaxed or conscripted, from bayou-banks and swampish lands ; made his rendezvous at Alexandria, and thence co-operated with Taylor's bat- talions. Both armies, it is true, fell back before the ad- vance of General Banks, when that Federal commander- in-chief made his rapid march from Brashear City up the Teche, ascending to Alexandria, and thence diverging to Port Hudson. But when, I say they fell back, I say all that can be said. They were neither dispersed nor de- moralized. Town by town, they contested our progress through the Teche country ; abandoning Franklin after a hard-fought battle ; evacuating New Iberia after destroy- ing their flotilla and defences ; retreating from Alexan- 140 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE dria, only when Admiral Porter's guns and mortars had rendered it untenable. But the numerical damage which they sustained was slight, and their war-spirit seemed to wax rather than wane before our advancing stars. No sooner did General Banks wheel his army Mississippi- ward, than this war-spirit blazed behind him. Partisans and guerrillas sprang up on his flanks ubiquitously. Nomad horsemen hung about and harrassed his wagon- trains, made sorties on his rear -guard, captured his strag- glers, ambushed his scouts. In Lower Louisiana, we saw them following Col. Chickering's caravan of cattle and contrabands almost to the guns of Brashear ; and had they been as enterprising as our escort was actually feeble, they might have retaken the " spoil,'* and "bagged" its custodians. In Upper Louisiana, at the same time, they were dashing down from the Arkansas lines, to attack Richmond and Lake Providence ; while General Banks, re-crossing the Atchafalaya, abandoned all the lately-captured territory, to find his resources barely equal to the close investment of Port Hudson. Such was the aspect of affairs, when General " Dick Taylor," from his camps between Vermillionville and Franklin, on the Teche, and General Mouton, from his headquarters near Opelousas, flung out their advances in the shape of cavalry and light artillery, under command of chosen leaders, charged with no less a design than to open the way for a combined assault on New Orleans. General Taylor had planned, and General Mouton ordered, that Col. Major, with his brigade, should cross the Atcha- falaya, at Morgan's Ferry, proceed down Bayou Gros Tete, to Plaquemine, strike off to Bayou Lafourche, and then descend the banks of that water course to the rear of Brashear City. We have seen how Major fulfilled his mission ; when, after burning a half-dozen steamboats at DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 141 Plaquemine, and chasing our provost-guards out of Thi- bodeaux, he charged against stouter stuff at Lafourche Crossing, and fell back with a loss of some hundreds. That was the hour when he should have been followed up by strong reinforcements from New Orleans. That was the moment when a couple of gunboats and another regi- ment ought to have arrived, by way of sea, to the succor of Brashear City. Why these things were not done, or whether, in reality, there was force enough at New Or- leans to have accomplished either, has never transpired through official sources, and, therefore, the good public must remain profoundly ignorant upon the subject. But, if .the Crescent City was actually so denuded of strength as to be unable to cover her approaches, or pro- tect her outposts, then it must be concluded that Port Hudson was, at that time, of more importance than New Orleans, and that the former, instead of the latter, had properly absorbed the attention of our generals and their soldiers. There is no flippancy in this remark; for it cannot be denied, that New Orleans was vitally endangered by the concentration and descent of rebel armies upon its rear and flank ; thus giving to our foes the occupation of a great railway means of transportation, a country able to subsist their largest force, and a population in sympathy with their cause. While Col. Major was performing his share of the work allotted to subordinate rebel leaders, Gen. " Tom Green," proceeded down the Teche to Pattersonville, and thence started his " musquito fleet" for operations against Brashear City. The "musquito fleet" was a unique armada, consisting of improvised transportation, in the shape of "sugar-coolers," which are long coffin-like wooden boxes, used, as the name implies, on plantations, 142 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE as receptacles of the syrup during the process of its manufacture into sugar A multitude of these vessels, capable of conveying one or two men, with the addition of such rafts as could be constructed, and a few skiffs, made up the flotilla, whereby some three hundred armed men were enabled to cross the Atchafalaya, navigate Grand Lake, and debouch through Lake Pelourde and Flat Lake, to the rear of Brashear. Thus matters stood on Monday, the twenty-second of June. The contemplated assault, planned by General Green, is to be made in conjunction with an anticipated advance of Major, with his force, upon the railroad stations still held by our American soldiers. Communi- cation is open, across the back country, between Major and Green; and the latter knows the force and intentions of his coadjutor. Green does not yet know that Major has been repulsed atLafourche Crossing; nor is he aware that the dashing cavalry-chief has evacuated Thibodeaux, and is hurrying with his ragged riders, from Terrebonne to Chickahoula, believing himself pursued by reinforce- ments of Federals from New Orleans, Green does not know, and, unfortunately, our troops at Lafourche Cros- sing, and the commandant at New Orleans, do not know, that Col. Major deems himself cut off from retreat by way of Thibodeaux, and relies solely on the success of an attack on Brashear, to enable him to make his way out of the dangerous trap into which he begins to fear that he has ridden too hastily. Had this fact for it is a fact been suspected by Lieut. -Col. Stickney, at Lafourche Crossing, or by my brave Major Morgans, who, about this time, is getting ready for a dash, with our gallant " Iron- sides " boys, into Thibodeaux, I am sure they would have profited by the occasion, and lost no time in bring- ing a few regiments from New Orleans, by rail, to hang DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 143 upon the rear of Major and his mustangs. But, they fail to learn, or to benefit by, the terror of their late assailants, and, in their turn, as it subsequently appears, become the victims of a panic, which sends them to the " right- about, M in the direction of Algiers. All designs being matured by " Tom Green," for his project against Brashear, the assault is fixed for day- break on the morning of Tuesday, twenty-third of June. Green demands two hundred and fifty volunteers for secret and hazardous service. Over three hundred respond, and are placed under command of Major Hunter, an officer who has seen rough service on the western frontiers of Texas. Major Hunter comprehends the work that is expected of him. He is to paddle his "mus- quito fleet," at dusk of evening, through the chain of lakes that penetrates behind Brashear City. He is to land secretly near a previously-reconnoitred point, in the rear of that timber-belt which makes a back-ground for Brashear, as Berwick Bay makes its fore-ground. He is to approach to the edge of that timber, whence he can overlook the Federal camps and batteries. He will wait in that position, till Green, from the opposite bay-shore, shall begin the assault by a bombardment. Then, when the attention of Yankee officers and men shall be ab- sorbed by the attack in front, Major Hunter is to lead out his braves from their cover, and, with Texan yells, dash down upon and capture Brashear City. How well the crafty rebel commander, " Tom Green," advised by numerous spies concerning our weakness, our disorganization, and our carelessness, adapts his plans to insure their complete success! Neither Maj. Hunter, nor any member of his " forlorn hope " has been informed regarding the feeble condition of Brashear. It is for them to obey orders, and to essay what they deem 144 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE a desperate enterprise. I have the word of many rebels, who were of the number of that "musquito-fleet" force, that they never expected to return alive, unless as paroled prisoners-of-war. Starting in their crazy water-craft, about three hundred strong, at least fifty gave out, either on the lake, or in the toilsome march which followed their debarkation. These were the men and boats reported to me, as having been seen, about sunset, crossing a section of Lake Pelourde, and whose appearance and suspected design, I had, in turn, reported to Major Anthony at Brashear City. From my post, at Bayou Boeuff, there was no means of reaching or opposing them. I knew not, at that time, but that their design was to threaten my own position, by effecting a landing at some point above me, on the Boeuff; I learn, long afterwards, while, a prisoner in Texas, that the original plan of approaches proposed an attack, in conjunction with Major's expected force, first upon my slight defences, and afterwards upon the rear of Brashear. But whatever may have been the expectations of Gen- eral Green, it is certain that Major Hunter's men, creep- ing under darkness, through swamps, up to their belts in mire, for several miles, toward the edge of timber which commanded Brashear City, were not inspired with very sanguine hopes of victory over Yankees. It is posi- tive, moreover, that these rebel raiders, having at last reached, about midnight, a point whence they could look out, over open fields, and. spy what appeared to be the encampment of a large army, were suddenly impressed with a panic quite as sensible as that which, about the same time, was urging Col. Major into a gallop from Terrebonne to Chickahoula. Those white tents, stretch- ing along the bay-shore, like a great town of canvass ; the fort, at their right, which they knew to be heavily DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 145 mounted; the silence brooding over all, giving their hearts space to b^at audibly against their lean ribs; all combined to make our rebel adventurers feel lonesome and uncomfortable. They had anticipated the hour when " Tom Green" was to fire his signal-guns. They heard no sound of co-operation from the Berwick shore. The dread of being " trapped" took possession of them, and in spite of Major Hunter's commands and entreaties, they abruptly broke and fled back, through woods and swamps, till they gained once more their " musquito-fleet." There the chagrined commander succeeded in getting them to halt and listen to him. There, as I have been credibly informed, that bold Hunter made use of some tolerably big oaths, in the way of illustrating his harrangue to them. " We may all be shot," he cried, imploring them to re- trace their steps. "Not one of us may get back to the brigade ; but, gentlemen, we'd better just fall down in our tracks than go back disgraced, and have old Tom Green tell us so ! M All stronger words of the rebel leader, I leave to be imagined; but the result of his speech was, that the " forlorn hope,'* minus a few strag. glers, returned with him, and struck the timber, long after Green's howitzers had begun their barking from the Berwick shore. 146 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XV. THE CAPTURE OF BRASHEAR CITY. DAYBREAK on the twenty-third day of July, 1863, was ushered upon Brashear City by the roar of those rebel howitzers which " Tom Green" had promised his " forlorn hope" should announce his presence upon the Berwick shore. Our startled garrison of Fort liuchanan hurried from tents to bomb-proof magazines, and a brisk exchange of shot and shell soon opened the battle in earnest. But little apprehension was felt by the Americans of aught beyond a cannon-bout being intended by the enemy ; for it presently become apparent that the assaulting forct. was not numerically strong, while the calibre of its artil- lery was much inferior to that of our heavy siege-pieces. No means of transportation appeared at hand, threatening any design to cross Berwick Bay ; and such an attempt, indeed, under the range of our cannon and musketry on land, and a flanking fire from the gunboat, would have been hazardous, if not impracticable, to a much larger hostile army. But, as I have stated previously, the crafty rebels had found means of transportation in another quarter, and were at this hour advancing stealthily on Brashear City through the woods and swamps at its rear. Meanwhile, General Taylor, at his headquarters near Pattersonville, and General Mouton, at Gibbons' Point, opposite Fort Buchanan, were awaiting the success of Green's cannon- ade, to advance the bulk of their forces toward Berwick DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 147 City. General Mouton's immediate strength consisted of two Texan regiments, and an Arizonian battalion, most of them sharp.-shooters, who were posted so as to command the Federal fort and direct their fire upon its artillery men. About a mile below, sheltered by woods and by a mound near the shore, " Tom Green" brought his two batteries (Valverde and Nichols) to bear upon the Bra- shear camps, while his own regiment, the Fifth Texas, and a battalion of Louisiana cavalry under Col. Walker, supported the guns with their small arms. The first rebel shot was launched at our gunboat, mounting two twelve-pound howitzers, and commanded by a person named Ryder, who, in the words of Admiral Farragut's subsequent report, " is not represented to have been any more vigilant than the rest, and backed down the bay." That gun-shot was the alarum of our little garrison. In a brief space the grey of morn became illumined by a blaze which leaped from opposing shores of the bay. From the blackened walls of burned buildings at Ber- wick landing, far up to Gibbons' Point, where a thousand rifles were cracking, the rebel side delivered continuous volleys of bullets and discharges of shot and shells ; while, on our part, we were not backward in pouring iron and lead from the fort and lower batteries. The screech- ing and whistling of various missiles, the barking of sin- gle muskets, the rattle of volleys, and the boom of great pieces, soon brought every sleeper out of his bunk or bed, and the water-front of Brashear was speedily alive with defenders. Few showed themselves, indeed, in the range of rebel fire ; but there were plenty of " coigns of Vantage," in the shape of big trees, cook-houses, walls, and embankments; and from behind these points of shelter our brave fellows plied their shots effectually ; 148 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE till, after two hours' interchange of courtesies between infantry and artillery of both sides, the rebel fire began to slacken, and their pieces were more than once driven from position. It was at this moment that a yell arose, in the rear ; a mingling of Indian whoop and wolf-howl ; the charging- cry of Major Hunter and his ragged desperadoes, break, ing cover from the woods behind our camps ; advancing at double-quick over the open fields that intervened be- tween shore and timber. Their line of battle was an irregular one ; a sort of involuntary echelon, perhaps the result of unequal march- ing, perhaps caused by the inequalities of ploughed ground and stubble which impeded them. But the flanks of their different companies were separated by wide gaps, and their ranks were, broken in somo places by intervals wide enough for skirmishing. On they came, scarcely two hundred and fifty men, armed with shot-guns, rifles, and a few revolvers. One solid company of United States dragoons could have ridden down and dispersed them like sheep. One hundred determined infantry-men, under a resolute commander, meeting them in line of battle, might have scattered th^ motley crew by a couple of well-aimed volleys. Had there been common militia- organization ; had a tithe of the able-bodied idlers of various camps been thrown upon the flanks of this rebel rabble, with our howitzers trained upon their front, they must have bitten the dust, or surrendered, every one of them, before they could have gained our camp lines. But the attack meets no sustained resistance. Before our straggling and unomcered squads can be brought into any line of defence, the left flank of rebel advance reaches the cover. of an orange grove near the almost vacant tents of the 176th New York (" Ironsides") and 23d Connecticut DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 149 regiments, while its right extends toward Fort Buchanan. Dashing into the rearmost company streets, they discharge their pistols into our canvass walls. From the thick orange-growth they deliver sharp and sudden volleys of slugs and bullets. An officer of my regiment, Captain Thomason, endeavors to rally a small detachment, between our camp and the one at our rear, now filled with rebels. He brings them into some order, and fires a brace of volleys, which have little effect upon the scattered foe. Col. Nott, rising from his invalid's couch, shows himself to the men, mounted, and orders them into line, but the command comes too late for organization. Our brave fellows, magnifying the numbers of the invaders, and be- wildered by total lack of preparation and the complete surprise, begin to drop back, doggedly, firing single shots, as they seek the shelter of neighboring buildings, For a few minutes, this sort of skirmishing is kept up ; the rebels, meantime, occupying themselves in ransack- ing the tents in their possession. Col. Nott calls upon those nearest to follow, and rides toward the depot, where the locomotives are fired up, intending to run one to Bayou Bo3uff, and, perhaps, escape from that point, by means of the gunboat. But his long illness and inactivity have rendered him feeble, and, on reaching the door of our hospital, about two hundred yards distant, he falls, fainting, from his horse. It is a fortunate accident, for bullets now begin to fly thickly on the road, and a negro woman is shot in front of the hospital, just as our Colonel sinks exhausted. In the meantime, desultory fighting goes on at various points. Two companies of the " Ironsides" regiment, garrisoning Fort Buchanan, becoming apprised of an inva- sion from the timber, get impatient to take part as in- fantry in the contest. Stout and gallant boys, from Mad- 150 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE ison county, they comprehend that, when an enemy is at hand, some immediate resistance is called for. They have been working steadily, during two hours, at the siege-guns, directing all attention to the Berwick shore foe, and little anticipating a fire in their rear. Now, aware of the new peril, and conscious of the exposed posi- tion of the fort to a land attack, they expect to be led at once against the rebels. But to whom shall they look for orders ? Captain Noblett, artillery chief, with the ostensible design of procuring more ammunition, has long ago mounted his horse and ridden to the depot. At this moment, just as the rebels show themselves in the orange grove near our camps, this artillery commander rolls from his steed, the animal being shot, and makes the best of his way not back to his command at Fort Buchanan but to the refuge of our hospital. Perhaps he deems it madness to attempt the running of a two mile gauntlet of sharp-shooters, in order to rejoin his In- diana battery boys. Very possibly, like other officers, he comes to the conclusion that " all is lost but honor," and that " sauve quipeut?" 1 is the motto for everybody. Left to his own discretion, Lieutenant Wellington, of the "Ironsides," tries to make some dispositions for defence. The large guns of Fort Buchanan, mounted en barbette, are too ponderous to handle, for the purpose of directing them to the rear. With great exertion, one piece is dislodged from its position, warped to the rear, by means of ropes manned by our soldiers, and brought into range upon the land-side. It is about this juncture of affairs that Major Anthony appears at the fort, and begins to take some direction of them. He has galloped under a shower of bullets from the railroad depot. He has seen his valiant confrere, Captain Noblett, dismounted, by the fire that left him scathless. He has marked the DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 151 >ebel force advancing, in its irregular fragments. Now, if he will rally our Madison "boys, and the artillery men, at least a hundred in all, perhaps more, he may mak a flank movement upon the exultant rebels, and form a nucleus for our scattered squads to rally upon. Lieut. Wellington assures him that his men are ready and eager ; that they demand to be led against the enemy. But unfortunately our Major's view of the proper policy is a different one. Very likely, if he saw around him a hundred, or less, of troopers in their saddles, with sabres drawn, and pistols in holsters, our gallant major-com- mandant of Brashear City would have given the word for a dash upon the rebels, were they double the number opposed to him. But, there are no cavalry at hand; no rough riders to follow his bright sabre and ringing voice. So, Major Anthony adopts the role, of Fabius rather than that of Marcellus. He orders the heavy gun to be trans* ported out of the fort to a point about half-a-mile lower, upon a road, leading to our camps and the railroad. Here, placed in position, and worked by our willing men, it launches some telling shots against the rebels, who have possession of the camps and are approaching the main street and water front of Brashear. While these dispositions were made at the upper part of the city, some show of defence continued near the rail- road depot. The rebels, swooping down upon our conval- escent camps, made short work of the few who ventured opposition. Few indeed were these ; for even had the able-bodied of our convalescents been disposed to fight, they had neither arms, ammunition, nor officers to direct them. Two or three lieutenants and sergeants, with small squads, attempted to rally the hundreds who were flying to and fro, seeking cover; but their efforts could not, at such a stage of panic, combine the materials that 152 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE had been allowed to remain disintegrated during months. Dozens of men were shot down by the rebels unresisting- ly. In so wild a melee, amid yells and the rattle of musketry, and encompassed by clouds of smoke, the foe could hardly discriminate, even were he desirous of so doing, between the sick and well, the armed and un- armed. One of our "Ironsides" captains, who has been con- fined to his quarters by sickness, sallies into the street, and essays to get a body of stragglers into order. He succeeds in bringing ten or fifteen together in line, when a rebel company charges upon them, with the bayonet- Captain Cutter, a cool and bold man, gives the signal to fall back, to secure a better position ; but the enemy is close upon them, and a Texan summons him to give up his sword "I never surrender!" answers Cutter, in his deliberate way; whereupon he is immediately shot through the head, and falls dead ; yielding up as gallant a soul as ever made Liberty the goal of ambition. While these events were transpiring, a stand had been made by Lieut. Stevenson, " of ours," commanding the provost-guard of Brashear City. This brave officer had charge of a twenty-four pounder, which, after doing good service against Green's batteries, over the bay, was wheeled into position for operating against the " surprise party" at our rear. With Lieut. Stevenson, at this post, remained Sergeant Deming, of his company, a young private named Newlan, and two other members of my regiment. These resolute fellows stood to the gun, till, completely environed by foes, they became a target for bullets. Four out of the five, including the lieutenant, were shot down, before their piece was captured. But such isolated and desperate endeavor; such frag- mentary struggles of indignant courage against the fate DEPAETMENT OF THE GULF. 153 which no wise foresight had anticipated, and no prudent preparation provided against, could only serve to protract suspense. The first panic of our feeble and disorganized regimental remnants had decided victory in favor of the daring foe. Well must the crafty Green have calculated upon our demoralization and incapacity. Cruel was the neglect, wherever its responsibility may lie, which left our little garrison to meet the brunt of a hostile assault, backed by at least ten thousand rebels, under competent generals. Flushed with his triumph, achieved at small expense, and promising brilliant results in plunder, Major Hunter presents himself presently before our own Major at the upper batteries. The post-commandant is summoned to surrender Brashear City. It is a superfluous demand, doubtless, on the part of the Texan, since he can see for himself that no further resistance i contemplated; but he asks, furthermore, that our post-commandant shall surrender fleet as well as army ; our notable gun-boat, as well as our convalescents and runaways. Major Anthony casts his glance down the bay, and beholds the war- vessel's black smoke streaming backward toward Bra- shear, as her engines propel her with all speed out of the harbor. He remarks forcibly to the Texan Major, that he wishes the recreant gun-boat could be caught by him, with the wretched poltroon who commands her. And, after this ebullition of spirit, the preliminaries of peace are adjusted, and the city of Brashear, with its appurtenances, passes once more into rebel possession. 154 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XVI. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. IN the homely vernacular of our boys, this June morning, "Brashear City has gone up!" Fugitives con- tinue to pour into my lines. Our Quartermaster, nervous and timid, asks me, a dozen times, if there is no way of retreat ; if the gun-boat may not be expected; if I think the Federals at Lafourche can send us succors. Negroes, arriving by the Brashear roads, bring incoherent stories, concerning a massacre by the rebels of many hundreds of the blacks. A report comes that the bay gun-boat has been seen in the Boeuff, and may be expected here during the day. Numberless rumors, regarding the force and designs of our enemies, reach us continually. I make up my mind to the conviction that an advance of rebels may be apprehended immediately from the bay. I already know what is to be looked for by the approaches from Tigerville ; a column of cavalry, with artillery to back it. Here, now, the precarious and indefensible condition of this post becomes yet more apparent. My three siege-pieces and a brass howitzer must not only defend the bridge against enemies on the opposing bayou-bank, but are required to withstand whatever force may be sent from Brashear City against us. I have one outpost only intervening between the bay and my camp. Captain Hopkins, of the Twenty-Third Connecticut Vol- unteers, is stationed at Bayou Eamos, three miles from the BoDuff, and nearly six miles this side of Brashear DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 155 The rebels must cross a bridge at Bayou Ramos. Captain Hopkins may be able to oppose them at that point. Rapidly reflecting upon our situation, I conceive and as quickly dismiss various plans of defence. There is a narrow water-channel crossing the railway, about two miles below the Boeuff. Woody swamps extend on either side of this " Alligator Bayou," rending it inaccessible save by the railroad or in boats. Could I reach and fortify the bridge-crossing of this bayou, and secure supplies of rations, I might hold the point against any force. Or, with flat boats for transportation, I might retreat up the Boauff, and there fortify in the swamp. But the lack of means to transport artillery over the rail* or by water, admonishes me that both these schemes are impracticable, in the face of an advancing enemy. Neither have I provisions of food or medical stores. The men of my own regiment here possess scarcely one day's rations. The Connecticut men have a larger supply, but not sufficient for many days, if shared with all, including hundreds of refugees, white and black, now within my lines. Now I appreciate the consequences of leaving our train of cars, loaded with commissary and quartermaster's stores, on the track at Brashear City. Had the locomo- tives, in their flight, brought off that store train, how amply would I now be furnished with rations and facilities for transportation. With two locomotives at my command, a dozen cars, and sufficient supplies to last through a siege of months, I would have the choice of attempting a dash upon the rail toward Terrebonne, with the hope of cutting my way through to our lines, or I might select some point to fortify, and defy the efforts of rebels to dislodge me. But speculations of this sort are now futile. There are no cars, no supplies, within 156 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE my reach ; and all the flat-boats on the Boeuff, save one, were towed to Brashear, last Monday, by the gun-boat. I have, then, no adequate means of removal from this indefensible place, and can only hope to make a brief stand against the enemy. On this stand, however, I determine, at once, whatever it may result in; and proceed, thereupon, to make the best dispositions in my power. Dispatching some of my wild-riding boys to neighboring plantations, with orders to impress spades, picks, and log-chains, I proceed to mark out a line of intrenchment on the Brashear side of our little camp. A simple crescent of rifle pits, with obstacles and abattis to flank them, is all that I can hope to interpose against an hourly expected advance from the bay. Two siege- guns commanding the bayou, may remain as they are, and the remaining one is already in position on the rail- road and pointed in the direction of Brashear, Present- ly, amid great shouting, my "Ironsides" boys return, accompanied by a gang of blacks from the plantations, who, with picks and spades, have volunteered for fatigue duty. Ground is broken instantly, and in half an hour, I get a well-defined line of rifle-trenches from flank to flank. Leaving the negro-reliefs to dig, under supervision of a few of our Connecticut sergeants, I set other gangs to cutting down and hauling orange-trees from a grove near by, and dragging such timber, old iron machinery, and other lumber, as can be found around the sugar house, to serve as defensive impedimenta for our flanks. The single brass piece I place in our rear, so that it can be readily shifted to either right or left of the rifle-pits. These immediate dispositions made, I take saddle for a reconnoissance of "the situation." On the wide, open fields, between the opposite bayou- levee and a timber-belt that makes their back-ground, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 157 stood a capacious sugar house, once the depot and store- room of an extensive plantation. This building and its surrounding sheds was now filled with army-supplies, officers' trunks, and extra baggage, arms, and military appurtenances of all kinds, that had been stored under their shelter when General Banks moved his army across Berwick Bay, for its march through the Attakapas coun- try. The estimated value of articles here deposited, under orders from Head Quarters, was, at the least, a half million of dollars. It may have been much more ; as the trunks, boxes, desks, and such receptacles contained sums of money, watches, jewelry, and other valuables, left behind, for security as well as convenience, by our ad- vancing troops. The regiments to whose members the private property belonged were now at Port Hudson. They had never been enabled to reclaim their extra baggage, and it consequently remained at Bayou Boauff, or at Algiers, where was another depot of the kind. I rode to an open door of the sugar-house, dismounted, and entered. A few enlisted men, detached from different regiments to guard the property, were lounging round the purlieus. Bales of clothing, muskets, and revolvers, were piled to the ceilings of the lower rooms. Trunks, marked with the names of various officers and regiments, were collected in ponderous piles. Some of these ap- peared to have been roughly handled ; many, doubtless, had been tampered with; for their locks were broken and lids shattered. Several were quite open, their contents exposed, in the shape of fine linen, new dress coats, and luxurious articles generally. I had time only for a cursory glance at the interior, but I could readily see that this sugar-house depot contained most valuable "aid and comfort" for ragged rebels, might they be so fortunate as to secure possession of it. 158 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE But such a result I resolved should not be my fault. I did not intend that another prize, in public and private plunder, should be added to the pillage over which rebel capturers were now exulting at Brashear City. From a million to a million and a half dollars worth of rations, tents, ammunition, small arms, artillery, and medical stores, is the estimate made of the prize secured by sur- prize at Brashear, and I am not willing that another mil- lion dollars' worth, or thereabouts, in yet more accepta- ble supplies, shall be gained through the seizure of this sugar-house. So, with a sigh over the necessary sacri- fice, I mentally devote the baggage of brother officers, and all government stores in connection therewith, to the flame of a Federal bonfire. Giving orders at once for the evacuation of the buildings, I mount and ride down the bayou-bank. Straggling negroes are coming in from different quar- ters. They report the rebels within three miles of the Bceuff, at a plantation on the lake. I gallop to the doors of negro huts and houses of poor whites upon the bayou borders, giving notice to the inmates that our lines will be drawn in immediately. Some request shelter in my camp ; others conclude to " take their chances" with the rebels. I can easily detect the concealed sympathy which many feel for the invaders. Of one fellow I de- mand a gun which I spy on his premises a United States musket and he rather reluctantly yields it. But, finding myself a mile or more from camp, and suddenly remarking that I have left my revolver behind, I deem it prudent to retrace my course rapidly. A com- mander " gobbled" by rebel scouts, so far from his men, might add another item to the report of rebel surprises. So, cantering back, loaded with the musket and its cart- ridge-box, I reach and cross the bridge again. DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 159 Work is progressing, under direction of our Connecti- cut captains and the artillerists. The rifle-pits are grow- ing deeper, fatigue squads are drawing materials for frai 1 defenses, and I find the gunners posted at their batteries> under direction of Lieut. Sherfy, their officer. I send a message to Captain Hopkins, who has reported the ap- pearance of a force at his front, on Bayou Kamos. He has been called upon to surrender his post to General Green, and has replied to the Texan chief, that he has no time to do so. I direct Captain Hopkins to hold his ground as long as possible ; but if there be danger of the enemy flanking him, to burn the bridge and fall back to my lines. The day wears rapidly. I am incessantly active ; most of the time in the saddle ; now inspecting the rifle-pits, again overseeing our flank-arrangements, taking note of everything, without allowing myself opportunity to dwell upon the darker features of our situation. When noon arrives, I give up any hope that the gun-boat will appear. I see no loop-hole of retreat or escape from the BreufF, and console myself simply with the sullen resolution to make as long resistance as possible, in view of the bare possibility that assistance may arrive from New Orleans. If my courier, Sergeant Lewis, shall succeed in gaining our lines, at Lafourche, there is still a faint hope of succor from that quarter. I wish to hold Bayou Boauff while a chance of ultimate relief can inspire me. Such are my cogitations, while riding up and down, without food during the entire day, yet wholly unconscious of hunger, because absorbed by the responsibilities of my command. When the rifle-pits are deep enough, I muster the men, to assign them their positions and commanders. In yesterday's morning reports, about two hundred and fifty rank and file were represented to be fit for duty; 160 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE but only thirty-seven files now present themselves on the line of the rifle-pits. Are these seventy-two infantry- men the force with which I am to defend Bayou BreufF? But there are forty artillerists ; ten men to each piece ; not sufficient for a necessary relief. 1 direct search for stragglers and skulkers; but this results in a small accession only. Apparently, I have not much numerical strength to back my determination to hold out to ex- tremity. After assigning stations and immediate commands, I ride to the battery. Lieut. Sherfy stops me, near the large gun which is posted on the track. "Colonel!" he gays. "Here is one of my sergeants, who desires to speak a word to you, sir!" The sergeant salutes, and approaches. He is a bluff, Saxon-looking man, who has apparently made up his mind to talk bluntly. "Well, my lad, what do you wish to say to me ?" "Colonel!" responds the gunner, sinking his voice. "I want to ask your liberty to leave !" " To leave, sir ! What do you mean by that ?" "I mean" in a still lower voice "I'd like to get away me and my mates. You see, Colonel, we were in the secesh service, when Orleans was captured, and we 'listed under the Feds. If the Rebs catch us, sir, all is, they'll hang us! So we'd like to leave this place, Colo- nel" I look at the man steadily, without speaking, and he proceeds "You see, sir, of course, we know there's no chance here ; it's got to come to surrender " i interrupt further parley. "Who told you, sir, that we shall surrender! This place is to be keld, sir! You will keep your post, to defend it. If you leave, it will be with a bullet in your back!" DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 161 1 speak warmly; for the man's apparent lukewarmness is annoying. My earnestness seems to please him, never- theless ; for he steps back to his place by the gun, crying out, with rather an impressive oath "If it's fight, Colo- nel, I'll stick by, any way !" A hurrah from the gunner and his comrades cheers me, as I gallop off; but, in spite of this manifestation, I cannot repress the reflection that this poor fellow is fighting with a halter about his neck; that he was morally right in desiring to escape a conflict so hopeless as ours threatens to be, and fraught with such peril to himself personally. But I have not yet done with my artillery-men. An hour afterwards, a gunner comes to me, as I ride near, with a report that his piece will be unserviceable. An important implement has been lost; a "rimmer," used to increase the calibre or bore, of shells, by making its cir- cumference larger, when necessary, so that a different fuse can be inserted. The man affects to explain that the burning of his shells cannot be graduated, because of the loss of this simple instrument. It is desirable to get a range upon the opposite shore, to cover a battery which the rebels are bringing into position near the Bcsuff. "Do you tell me, that our defence must stop, because you have lost a thing like that, sir ?" "You see, Colonel! we can't " "I see that all you need is a common augur, or some- thing of the kind, to make that bore larger! Is there no such tool in camp?" "We could n't find any, sir!" I get indignant at the apparent stupidity or indifference of the fellow. Seizing a musket near me, I wrench away the bayonet, and, by a smart blow, break off its glittering point. A tri-edged, augur-sort of instrument remains, which I hand to the gunner, ordering him to test its 162 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE utility as a "rimmer." It is inserted in the fuse bore, and perforates the substance that forms the shells' rim without difficulty. A "rimmer" is provided, and our gun rendered serviceable once more. But I mentally doubt whether the gunners will be as "serviceable" as their pieces, if such slight difficulties as this last one can be made the foundation of despon- dency. It becomes rather problematical to me whether, with my thirty-seven files in the rifle-pits, and my grumb- ling artillerists out of it, I can depend on a very resolute defence of this " Castle Dangerous" of ours. But evening approaches, and other affairs require at- tention. The rifle-pits are made ; shallow trenches, with a heap of earth in front, scarcely waist high. Our flanks are barricaded with old wagons, lumber, and the abattis of orange trees. We have cleared a large space of the growing grain in front of our lines, so as to get range for musket-fire. I now order the demolition of some sheds in the range of our artillery, and cause fire to be set to other buildings, which may serve to shelter an advance of rebels during the night. Our last piece of fire-works is to be the sugar-house on the opposite bayou shore. But, before applying our torch to this structure, I have a word with "Billy "and the engineers, concerning their locomotives. The rebels have secured several trains of cars at Bra- shear City, but no engines. The two in our possession would be invaluable prizes to them ; by aid of which they might transport their forces and supplies upon the road, as they advance on New Orleans. These locomotives must not fall into their hands, in a serviceable condition ; and both conductor and engineers assure me that they can be destroyed. " It is only necessary," says one, " to burn out the fire-chest. It will take them a month to DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 163 repair them." Another says, " There's a single pin which I can remove, and which cannot be replaced. That will prevent the use of the engine." I have an idea, myself, that the best way to place the locomotives hors du combat will be to run them into one another, and then blow them up with gun-powder. But I am satisfied to leave the plan of destruction to our " experts." They only await orders for the work, and these I give them. Dusk approaches, and I direct that the iron and planks of the bayou bridge shall be removed. The work is com- menced, and in a short time a section of rails and several cross-trees are torn up and flung into the Bo3uff. The passage of the bridge by cavalry is thus effectually pre- cluded. I now call a trio of my " Ironsides" youths, and dis- patch them to the sugar-house on incendiary business. They cross the bayou in a skiff, and shortly thereafter I get ocular evidence of their work. A cloud of light smoke appears, which gradually darkens, and increases to dense volumes. I hear exclamations running through the camp, as our soldiers discover the vapor and pres- ently catch sight of flames. " The sugar-house is gone up ! M "Goodbye to Uncle Sam's commissaries!" An officer comes to me, and asks if the burning is accidental, and I assure him that it is not. About this time, the Connecticut company, under Cap- tain Hopkins, stationed at Bayou Ramos, arrives in my lines, having fallen back, after a brief skirmish with the enemy. General Tom Green is at Bayou Ramos, but as Captain Hopkins fired the bridge before leaving, the rebel advance will be somewhat retarded. They may attack us during the night, however, or at daybreak, to- morrow ; and it behooves us to be on the qui vive. I 164 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE proceed, therefore, to post sentinels and pickets, and send scouts toward Bayou Ramos. There are hundreds of able-bodied negroes in the camp, with their families ; a multitude of women and children refugees from the plantations on both sides of Bayou Boeuff. In making a stand, the blacks can be serviceable ; so I muster a few scores, distribute muskets and ammu- nition to them, and get them speedily in line and under drill. Several enlisted men, of the " Corps d'Afrique," have come in among the fugitives from Brashear, and I select a few of these to act as sergeants. This nocturnal drill presents a singular spectacle. I have the negroes before me in two ranks, and exercise them in the manual of arms. They are awkward, but eager to learn, and appear to be of good soldier-stuff. I do not find my officers entering cordially into the scheme of arming and drilling negroes ; and for this reason I do not commit them to it. I give the black recruits my personal attention, taking the responsibility of conse- quences. The drill proceeds noiselessly, orders being given with " bated breath." It is dusk evening, and very calm. The sky is somewhat overcast, but we have a lurid illumination from the sugar-house and other buildings on fire. The Boeuff casts back a ruddy reflection of flame, and bright Hashes of light quiver on neighboring orange- groves, and make the surrounding fields, and our camp, with its watchful soldiers, distinctly visible Drill con- cluded, I detail a few of my black volunteers for picket service, and despatch them to the outskirts of camp and verge of surrounding timber, with instructions to lie con- cealed, keeping strict watch, and should the enemy ap- proach, to bring me a report at once, without alarming the camp. As evening wears on, the blaze of our burning sugar- DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 165 house augments in breadth and fury. The dry buildings, the immense piles of tents, with their supports, the quan- tities of clothing, the trunks, and a mass of other com- bustibles, combine to furnish fuel for the devouring flame. A roar like low thunder undertones the crackling of burn- ing wood, the explosions of powder, the reports of guns and pistols incessantly discharged by the heat. This conflagration is, indeed, a grand and costly piece of Fed- eral fire-works. Better, however, that the elements re- gain their constituents, than that rebel hordes find an- other commissariat! Toward nine o'clock, " Billy," the conductor, his rail- road employees, and several citizen refugees, send a committee, to ask permission to make their escape from the camp. These men are convinced that all defence must be abortive, and, as many of them are individually obnoxious to the rebels, they are prudently apprehensive of personal peril should they .be captured with the rest. That tall planter, Mr. S , who has been "running" several government plantations near the Boeuff, during the last year, and who has solved the question of free labor value very effectually, is one of the refugees here. He has already begged to be enrolled as a private in one of our companies, so that he may thus escape scrutiny, and obtain parole as a soldier But his collossal propor- tions would render it difficult to conceal his identity, should there be neighboring secessionists about ; so Mr. S. unites with "Billy" and the rest, in requesting leave to attempt their escape. I readily grant the permission, as these non-combatants can be of no use to us ; and soon after, furnished with a written pass, and stowing them- selves in a capacious boat, which they have procured, these men, to the number of seventeen, set quietly out, through darkness, to descend the Boaufi. 166 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Night darkens; with the fading of flames around us. The discharges of loaded fire-arms in the sugar -house be- come less frequent, and at length cease. Silence, utter and oppressive, falls over camp. I walk out to the rifle- pits ; linger a moment among prostrate forms of sleep- ing soldiers ; peer out through the gloom, across the bayou and toward the sombre woods hemming us on the Brashear side; then return, and sit before my tent, ab- sorbed in reflections upon our desperate situation. At last, weary but yet wakeful, I lie down, to court a brief repose. Very brief, indeed, are my slumbers ; for at midnight Captain Coe rushes into my tent. "Colonel! the rebels are reported in the woods !" Roused abruptly, I catch but the import of these words ; and, springing from my pallet, with a single exclamation, " Up !" I hasten to our rifle-pits, and get the men speed- ily at their stations. The enemy are reported to have advanced from Bayou Ramos, and to be in force at our front. They may make an assault at any moment. Dur- ing two hours we remain in suspense, our infantry resting on their arms, in the rifle-pits, our batteries double- shotted and ready to open upon a foe. Long after this, I learn that it was proposed to General Green to attack us at this hour. Had the rebels attempted it, they would have found us prepared for them, and, though they might have overwhelmed us by force of numbers, the success would have cost them dear. But we were not to be molested, and after remaining in line till two o'clock in the morning, I directed the men to lie down near the pits and sleep again. I resumed my own vigils in frout of the tent, where I was presently addressed by Captain Hopkins, the brave officer who had been compelled to retreat from Bayou Ramos. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 167 "Colonel!" said the Captain, "I would like to speak to you for a moment, if you will excuse me/' " Certainly! I shall be glad to listen to you, Captain." "It is the opinion of most of our officers and men, sir, that this post cannot be defended without great sacrifice of life, and resistance can be made only for a short time. Would you object to calling the officers together, and hearing their opinions upon the subject ?" "Of course not, Captain ! I will call a council of the officers, if they desire it." " I assure you, sir, that they wish it." " Yery well, Captain ! I leave the matter to yourself. You may notify our officers to report at my quarters ! M Captain Hopkins departs on his errand, and in a few minutes the commissioned officers present themselves at my tent. We retire from observation and hearing of the men, to a flank of our barricades, and proceed to dis- cuss "the situation." I state to them, frankly, my view of the difficulties which environ us, and declare that I hold . myself ready to be governed by the opinion of the coun- cil. After other remarks, I submit the question, as to whether we shall negotiate or fight, to all present, begin- ning, as in courts-martial, with the youngest in rank. Lieut. Peck, of the Twenty-Third Connecticut Volun- teers, is our junior. He says he will do as his seniors decide, fight or not. All the remaining officers declare for negotiation, considering a defence to be useless; and resistance only calculated to involve a waste of life. My judgment endorses the correctness of this unanimous verdict, although I repine at the necessity which con- strains it. It is decided that, if the enemy attack us during the darkness, we shall resist, but that at morning we will consider terms of surrender. This course of action agreed upon, a flag of truce is given in charge of Lieut. Kirby, to display from our post at sunrise. 168 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE The council disperses, and I throw myself upon a stool before my quarters. Now, for the first time, do I feel a reaction of my energies. Yesterday, I was from day- break to dusk in the saddle, or occupied in labor, swal- lowing scarcely a morsel of nourishment, When aroused, at midnight, by the report of a rebel advance, my nervous strength remained intact. But, since the decision of our council of war, I feel every symptom of exhaustion. My faculties are no longer alert, my mind has lost its composure, and my limbs are feeble. The tension of responsibility, which braced my system, is now relaxed, and I feel like casting myself upon the ground to sleep or to weep like a child. But the die is cast. We have agreed to negotiate, and negotiation can end only in surrender. A tumult of conflicting emotions disturbs me, as I look up to the American flag, which still waves from its staff, over our camp. I almost pray that the rebels may suddenly dash upon us, that we may be spared the bitterness of lowering those beloved colors. I yearn to the "Old Flag," this hour, as to a mother whom I may see no more. God bless the emblem of our " Liberty and Union one and inseparable!" Its freedom cannot be restricted by our captivity; its giant power will not be impaired by the loss of pygmies such as we are. It will again lead the march of victorious armies over these bayous. It will flame like a meteor on the skirts of flying foes. Perhaps, it may follow us, a messenger of enfranchisement, to the gates of the prison-house to which we must render our- selves. God bless the Old Flag! whatsoever fate shall be ours, who no longer can hope to defend it successfully. God grant that we shall, some time, behold it again, waving over a Restored Union and a Free Kepublio ! DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 169 CHAPTER XVII- CAPTIVITY. As the dark, slow night-hours wane gradually, I think of the thousand unhappy negroes, men, women, and children, who have sought refuge in this camp. Hard is their fate, to be returned to slavery, after having tasted freedom. The condition and prospective fate of these people embitters for me the pain of surrender. More then once, I find myself inclined to make a des- perate stand, arming blacks and whites, to live or die together. But reflection tells me that the attempt can only end in a massacre of the negroes, perhaps, of my own comrades ; and the responsibility of such a result must rest on me, if, reversing the council's decision, I command a conflict which can have no result beyond the sacrifice of life. -*** 1 * But there is one duty I owe to faithful men. My servants must not be left to rebel mercies. John, my valet, came with me from home. George and Toussaint are both attached and zealous followers. I resolve to give them a chance to escape ; so, calling them to my tent, I briefly explain matters. George, sanguine Creole, is sure he can get through the rebels. Toussaint, brave fellow! hangs his lip. He would like to have a blow at his old oppressors. But, they are all agreed to make the effort to escape capture ; and I give each of them a revolver, with good store of ammunition. To J.ohn I intrust a message for my wife. Then, wringing the hands 170 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of my sable henchmen, and feeling more then one tear drop upon my wrist, I bid them " Good speed, " and watch their dusky figures disappearing among surround- ing shadows. The approach of day-break finds me still seated in front of my tent, absorbed in sombre reflections. But there are precautions yet to be taken. Our poor blacks must not be found by the enemy with arms in their hands, as it might jeopardize their lives, in view of Jeff. Davis's recent proclamation, declaring our negro corps and its officers outlawed from military consideration. I order the recall of our "contraband" pickets and a muster of their armed comrades. Bringing them into line, they are directed to stack arms, and are then dis- missed to their quarters. 1 adopt this quiet luethod of disarming the brave fellows, lest they may endanger their own safety and that of my white soldiers by any rash desire to defend themselves. 1 dismiss likewise several negroes who were placed last night as a guard over supposed spies brought into camp. The sergeant, whom I dispatched on Monday night, as a courier to our lines at Lafourche Crossing, has returned, without effecting his object. He reports the roads beyond and about Tigerville completely blocked by rebels, to the number of several thousand mounted men, who are advancing on Bayou Boeuff. Day now dawns, and shortly afterwards, I am notified that a flag of truce from General Taylor at Brashear, has appeared, and that the bearer wishes to see the commander of this post. Calling Lieut. Kirby to accompany me, I mount a hand- car, and proceed about a quarter-mile on the railroad, to meet the rebel messenger. We encounter a young man, armed with a rifle, who announces himself to be an officer, and demands the surrender of what he terms " the fort." DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 171 Scrutinizing the youth's somewhat dirty and dilapidated appearance, as he stands between a brace of apparent subordinates, not more tattered than himself, I ask whose authority he represents. "1 represent General Taylor, sir!" he replies loftily. "What is your rank, sir?" " I am an officer, under General Green's command, sir ! I am Captain McNally, sir !" " But you have nothing about you to distinguish your rank, sir. How am I to know that you are an officer?" " My honor, sir!" exclaims the young rebel, with a melo-dramatic slap of his breast with the right hand, while the left brings his gun to an emphatic order. " Well, Captain, I suppose I must take your word for it ! And now, as you represent General Taylor, let me ask what terms he proposes to us. I will remark, that I have no desire to sacrifice life in a defence of this post, but, nevertheless, we can give you a good fight here, if we choose to resist." "It will be useless, sir!" responds the young rebel. "General Green is determined to reduce this fort, no matter what it may cost. He is resolved to bring his whole force against you, sir, and if you resist, it will only be the worse for you !" "That may be, Captain! But what terms are you authorized to offer?" "General Taylor orders me to demand an unconditional surrender, sir!" "What do you mean by that? Are we not to have the usual conditions allowed to prisoners of war, sir?" " Your men will be allowed to keep their knapsacks, and your officers their private property." "Well, Captain! I shall return to my officers, and 172 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE state to them General Taylor's proposition. If they agree to accept, I will notify you !" "I give you ten minutes, sir, to decide." "It is not time enough!" "Well, sir! it's all I can give! If you send no an- swer within that time, we shall open fire !" "Very well, sir! Let that be understood! And, on our part, sir, if we do not accept your terms, you will see yonder white flag come down, and our Union flag go up in its place. Good morning, Captain!" Thus leaving this assumptions young rebel, after sub- stantially, if not literally, the foregoing colloquy, I roll back on the hand-car to camp, and call my officers to- gether. There is a general demur to the summary and insolent demands of General Taylor's shabby messenger. "Very well, gentlemen !" I say to them. " Say but the word, and our flag of truce shall give place to a bat- tle-flag." But here Lieut. Kirby, of my own regiment, interposes. " Colonel !" he remarks, " The men are dispirited, since they saw our flag of truce up, and they won't fight." " Well," remarks Captain Sanford, of the Connecticut regiment. "Let us take our time, and if the rebels choose to open fire, we can return it." Other officers express themselves similarly ; and the result is, that we discuss the subject, not ten minutes only, but a half-hour, at least, without hearing any more from the enemy. But there are no more cheering auspices for us this morning than there were at our nocturnal council ; and the finale of this last conference is a decision to accept General Taylor's terms, of protection to the private effects of om- cers and men. This finally settled, I appoint Captain Coe and Lieut. Kirby to meet Captain McNally again, and then repair, heart-sick, to my quarters. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 173 But scarcely has the hand-car rattled off, with our en- voys, than another flag of truce is displayed on the oppo- site shore of Bayou Boauff. Col. Major presents himself at the dismantled bridge, and summons us to surrender, in the name of General Mouton. A short parley ensues* succeeded by the entry to our lines of the cavalry colonel and his staff, who cross over our broken bridge planks. Mounting " Black Roman," I proceed to the railroad, in season to see rebels coming in upon us from all sides. Col. Major is a fine-looking officer, with the manners of a gentleman. He accosts me courteously, with an ob- servation about the fortune of war, and expresses regret that he had not arrived in time to receive our capitula- tion, for General Mouton instead of General Taylor. He promises, however, that the terms made shall be strictly respected, and remarks' that we have done well to avert a conflict. " You had no chance at all !" says Major. " I supposed you had at least a thousand men, with ground well in- trenched and fortified. But I intended to cross, above, and charge down the bayou bank on your flank, with twelve hundred !" " We should have given you a reception from those double-shotted guns," I said. " If we attacked your front, you might have given us something to do; but your few men never could have stood a charge on the flank here. What were you burning last night, Colonel !" I pointed to the ruins of the sugar-house, yet smoul- dering and smoking, and replied: " An old store depot! 1 ' "We thought it was the railroad bridge," said Col. Major. "It would have been the worse for you, if you had destroyed it. General Mouton wants all this road for an advance on New Orleans." 174 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE "You think you will get there this time, Colonel ?" "We shall be in New Orleans by Saturday night, sir. Nothing can stop us. We've driven your troops below Lafourche, and shall follow them to Algiers." Col. Major was not frank enough to tell me how he had been repulsed, with all his force, at Lafourche Crossing, on Sunday night; but he added, to his last words, the ad- mission that our " Yankees" at Lafourche had made a stout fight. "We shall meet in New Orleans, Colonel!" said Major, with a laugh, as he turned away to inspect our camp. " Shall I be permitted to retain a horse, for transpor- tation, Colonel!" I inquire. " Certainly," answers the Confederate officer, without hesitation. " Have you other horses here, that you will lend to my orderlies for the present? We cannot cross our own over the bridge." " I will order a servant to saddle my other two horses," I respond, quite satisfied, as well as surprised, with the good-nature of our captors thus far. At this juncture, my quartermaster, Lieut. Kimball, comes up, to prefer a request. " I have a wagon of private stores and other property," he says, addressing the Confederate chief " Will it be respected, like the rest? A few bottles of wine, some cigars, and the like." Our worthy quartermaster is very deaf. I hint this to Col. Major, whereupon that affable enemy takes the trou- ble to raise his voice, in consoling assurance to Lieut. Kimball that his " small stores, 5 ' being " private effects," will be sacred from seizure. I begin to suspect that our new friends are a trifle too generous in promises ; but the quartermaster, much elated, gets out a box of superb Havanas, and commences a liberal distribution thereof. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 175 Col. Major delicately declines to receive the luxury, pleading that he is no smoker ; but subsequently con- sents to pocket a couple of bundles for his friends. Lieut. Kimball then proceeds to supply every interesting rebel, who has a grey cap, or a bit of gilt braid about him ; and not a few of our own boys come in for a treat in the difficulty of distinguishing recipients. So opens our intercourse with Texans, of whom we conceive quite a favorable first impression. But we are destined, I apprehend, to discover a re- verse to this pleasant morning picture. Presently en- countering my young vis-a-vis of the hand-car negotiation, Captain McNally, I inquire to whom I shall deliver the sword which still swings by my saddle. The rebel offi- cer makes a courteous salute, and says, " Please to wear it, for the present, Colonel ! You can resign it to Gen- eral Taylor !" At this moment, another Confederate officer advances, and demands my sword ; adding, superciliously, to the young Texan captain. " You need not trouble yourself with authority, sir! I am commander here !" This important gentleman, who wears a distinguishing quantity of gold braid about his grey suit, is Lieut.-Col. Phillips, a cavalry officer. I respond to his demand for my sword, by unhooking it from the belt which confines it to my side. " I believe the belt goes with the sabre, sir !" remarks the chivalrous rebel ; whereupon, unclasping belt and shoulder-piece, I hand over both. Lieut.-Col. Phillips coolly adjusts them to his elegant waist, and I take the opportunity to ride away from him. I have the satisfac- tion, long afterwards, of learning that he gets himself killed by a Yankee sergeant, at Donaldsonville, a few days subsequent to my capture, and that my sabre re- 176 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE verts to loyal possession, being awarded to the brave fel- low who shoots its temporary custodian. Returning to my tent, I find that it has been entered and ransacked by some of the rebels who are prowling about camp. My watch, gauntlets, and other articles, have disappeared. I look after my luggage brought from Brashear City, and find that one box, containing books, correspondence, and papers generally > has been broken open, and its contents scattered over the ground. I se- cure a trunk of clothing, and a few other personal effects, and get it, together witb a trunk belonging to Col. Nott, placed on a mule-cart that holds our officers' bag- gage. This accomplished, I remove the saddles from " Black Roman" and another of my horses which a rebel has hitched near by. These saddles, one of them quite costly, immediately attract the admiration of our Texan rifle rangers. Several cluster about my tent, eager to *' trade" for the articles. " Colonel," says one of them, confidentially. " Yer better sell me that ar' saddle ! I'll give yer a right smart trade for it /" I reply, that Col. Major has promised that I shall keep one of my horses, for transportation, and I will need a saddle with it ; that I cannot just now say which I may keep, but will let them have one or the other at Brashear City." " Now, Colonel, 1 ' says the rebel, " Yer better let us boys have the saddles. Officers gets everything, and thar's no show for us. Yer better trust us than them. I'll give a hundred dollars for one o' them hides !" I decline immediate traffic, but tell the " boys" they may look in again, after I see Col. Major. They retire, casting longing looks back at the saddles. I am now summoned by a sergeant to go out to Col. Major. I find him in company with one of the late engineers or firemen DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 177 on the railroad, who, as I afterwards learn, has been accused of destroying the locomotives. Col. Major is in a towering rage, and accosts me in a high tone. "Do you know who ruined those engines, sir? They have been made useless, sir !" I perceive that the subject is a delicate one; and reply diplomatically "I suppose that must have been done by order, Colonel!" "Did you order it done, sir?" "I ordered the engines to be run off the track, sir!" "It is an unwarrantable military offence, sir, to destroy transportation, when the post could not be held. It is against all rules of war. I would hang the man that destroyed those engines, sir!" Here, turning upon the railroad man, who brave fellow that he was did not seem to blench at Major's menace " If you don't put those engines in order, I'll hang you as sure as there's a heaven! Will you do it?" "I don't know that it can be done, sir!" replies the engineer, looking our exasperated rebel full in the face. "I'll make you know, sir. Here, take this man off!" cries Major, to a guard. "If he don't put those engines in repair, hang him !" The man is led away. I do not recall his name, if I ever knew it; but he is evidently a bold fellow, and a true one ; for, if he had been craven, he would probably have sought to exculpate himself by casting the responsi- bility of the order on me. I am convinced that Col. Major feels this, likewise ; for the rebel officer well knows that the engines could not have been destroyed without my priority, as commandant. I get proof of this fact very soon ; for the Texan colonel presently returns to me, and, with manifestly-strained politeness, expresses his chagrin that I must give up all my horses. "An 178 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE order has come from General Taylor, to that effect," he explains. " Your General Banks or Bowen has ordered all registered rebels to leave New Orleans, and has restricted even delicate ladies to fifty pounds of baggage. In retaliation for this outrage, General Taylor orders that Yankee officers shall have no privileges allowed them." "This is hard, Colonel Major," I reply. "I have lately been ill; and can hardly stand a march on foot for any distance !" " I know it's hard, sir ! I belonged to the old army, and we were accustomed to do things in better shape ; but I cannot order anything here, against the General's will! If those engines had not been ruined, Colonel, we might give you transportation on the railroad, you know." In spite of Col. Major's assumed courtesy, I could detect latent malice in his last observation. I was to be promptly punished for the loss of those locomotives to the rebels. I mentally pray that it may be found impos- sible to repair the damage. "If I must give up the horses, may I retain my sad- dles, Colonel ? They are private property, purchased by myself." "I regret to say, the order is peremptory to take sad- dles also," answers Major. "I am very sorry, Colonel!" I bow, and Col. Major turns away, laughing, perhaps, at this "retaliation," which leaves me the prospect of a long tramp, in what direction I know not. Bitterly do I regret, now, the confidence that I had placed in rebel assurances. I have seen opportunities of escape during all the morning, which I now wish heartily I had im- proved. Once over the Bo3uff, I might have profited by my knowledge of the country, and of several places of DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 179 shelter, to elude pursuit for some days, and, possibly, make my way to Lafourche or to the coast, at Grand Caillou. But it is now too late. Hardly do I regain my tent, before a guard comes for my saddles thereby dissipating all hopes of the " trade" promised by rebel rifle-men. I perceive, likewise, that a guard is posted at the rear of my tent, near the rifle-pits ; an obvious hint that I am under surveillance. To-day I have only tasted a cup of coffee and a hard- cracker. My lips are parched and skin dry and hot. It is evident that fever threatens me. During the forenoon no intimation of what is to be done with officers or men has been given, It is nearly two o'clock in the after- noon, when I get a hint that we are all to report at Bra- shear City. Pending an order to march, the prisoners are collected in a field, at the other side of the railroad, and obliged to remain there without refreshments, and exposed to the fierce sun, for several hours. I see no more of Confederate colonels. About sunset we receive orders to get in column of march. We walk about four abreast, the officers in front. On either side ride cavalry, to the number of four score or more, armed with rifles, Enfield muskets, and pistols. The captain in command is an earnest, resolute-looking man, and con- trols his motley riders efficiently. After a few miles of progress, the fatigue of marching affects my enfeebled system sensibly, but I continue to keep up with my com. rades, till we get to Bayou Ramos. The bridge at this place, burned by Captain Hopkins, is passed, with diffi- culty, on its string-pieces. A Confederate steamer lies at the levee, filled with rebels. General Green has fixed his quarters in a capacious dwelling-house on the Bra- shear side of this bridge. We get sight of the old Texan campaigner ; a tall, plain, farmer-like personage, in home- 180 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE spun, with no insignia of rank. We are halted here, while our rebel captain accepts an invitation to sup Most of us are hungry, but nothing is offered to eat ; and, we content ourselves with a rest upon the damp roadside, while a drunken trooper rides out from a neighboring camp, swearing horrible oaths, and threatening " Yanks'* with all imaginable vengeance in future. This fellow, however, is solitary in his denunciation, and, failing to provoke a quarrel, finally rides off; while one of our Texan lieutenants remarks, apologetically, " That ar' cuss is a coward, I'll swar' as well as a drunkard. Nobody but a coward would insult prisoners!" This assuring verdict is endorsed by several of our rough guards, and we begin to have a better opinion of them. When the order to resume our march is given, I find myself staggering as I attempt to walk, and, after proceed- ing a mile, am forced to fall out of line to the roadside. The captain of cavalry orders one of his men to dismount, and I take his place in the saddle, though so weak as scarcely to be able to keep my seat. The fever is gain- ing upon me ; my senses wander. So confused become my faculties, that I ask the guard to give me a switch, while a handsome riding-whip, that I have been carrying, falls unnoticed from my hand. Dr. Hershey, a surgeon of U. S. Volunteers, who escaped from Brashear City only to be captured below, gives me a large dose of quinine, which somewhat revives my strength; and thereafter, clinging to my pony's mane with nerveless hands, I man- age to ride slowly in the line, till we reach Brashear. We are delayed at the depot an hour, and Dr. Hershey plies me with more quinine. Then, getting orders to march two miles further, to Fort Buchanan, I essay to walk with the rest. Arrived at onr hospital, a moment's halt is made, and I take the opportunity to inquire, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 181 through the gloom, if Dr. Willets is there. A familiar voice responds, and I am presently greeted by the valiant surgeon himself, who informs me that Col. Nott, Lieut. Stevenson, and others of our regiment, are in the build- ing, i accompany him up stairs, and the Confederate surgeon, remarking my nearly-disabled condition, invites me to remain at the hospital. But I am not permitted to accept this humane offer. Our Texan captain outside has orders to deliver his prisoners to Fort Buchanan, and he is a literal constructionist of all superior orders. Qo I must, he says, to the fort, if I am to be carried bodily. The considerate rebel surgeon offers to procure an ambu- lance or carriage, but the captain is in a hurry ; he must return this night, to Bayou Bceuff ; so I climb once more on a pony, and thus finish the march to Fort Buchanan. It is nearly midnight when we arrive and are deliv- ered into custody of another commander. Our cavalry captain rides away, with his troop, and we are ordered to make ourselves as contented as may be possible on the bare ground. Dr. Hershey notifies the post-surgeon of my illness, and I am visited by the rebel doctor, who kindly shares with me his bed, my blankets having been left upon the baggage cart. Our couch has no canopy save heaven ; but the surgeon furnishes me with a cover, and administers an opiate, which ere long stupifies me into slumber. 182 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XVIII. A MARCH TO SHREVEPORT. I AWAKE in a high fever, my senses wandering to an extent that renders me almost oblivious of past and -present. I see figures moving about me, without caring to distinguish them. Toward noon I begin to recall events, but an acute headach bewilders me still. I me- chanically swallow a dose of quinine tendered me by a Confederate surgeon. One of our captured officers enters the tent, and hands me a pocket-revolver, with a request to preserve it, if I can, as he is about to be marched away. I afterwards discover this pistol on my pillow, where it is seen, likewise, by my rebel doctor, to whom I deliver it. I faintly recollect that I murmur a few incoherent words of thanks to this surgeon, for his attention to me, and that I give him a bundle of cigars. Nearly all the day is a blank, save my grateful consciousness of kindness at the hands of a sergeant of the Indiana Volunteers, who brings me a bowl of tea and some toast. Next morning, I am less feverish. I hear that rank and file are paroled, but that our officers will be sent to the interior. The surgeon decides that I am too ill to under- go the hardship of a march, and must remain at the hospital. To the hospital, I am conveyed, toward eve- ning, in an open cart, which passes through our old camp. I get a glimpse at my own tent, with several articles of furniture strown about it. Arriving at the hospital, sick and sad, I meet Col. Nott, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 183 onr two surgeons, and Lieuts. Stevenson and Sherman. Lieut. Stevenson is wounded in the foot, a bullet having passed through heel and ankle. He is the gallant officer who made that last stand at Brashear, defending a field piece. Col. Nott is in excellent spirits, and jocosely noti- fies me that no long faces are allowed in the mess. Besides our officers, there are two citizen-prisoners quartered in the room where I now find a cot. The surgeon of our regi- ment, Dr. Willets, and his assistant, Dr. Throop, not being held as prisoners, mess with their medical brothers, the Confederate doctors, and assist in consuming the choice " sutler" stores that were captured with this post. Here commences the routine of hospital prison -life. There are seven of us in this apartment, our beds occu- pying the greater portion of floor. Two negro-women wait on us, bringing our meals twice daily; meat, rice, bread, coffee, and soups well cooked. No one molests us, and we have the range of the hospital, visiting our wounded boys in other wards. A balcony, in front of our two doors, looks upon the street and Berwick Bay. We have light, air, d good food, and are altogether as comfortable as could be expected. Col. Nott and myself reclaim our trunks. I have lost my blankets, wolf skin, and many other articles, but console myself in the pos- session of necessary clothing. We remain at Brashear till the Fourth of July. Mean- time, our enlisted men receive their parole, and are marched in the direction of our lines. Our captured officers depart, under a rebel guard, on the day suc- ceeding my own transfer to the hospital. Several come to take leave of us. Their destination is supposed to be Texas. General Taylor has ordered that only such bag- gage shall be allowed them as they can carry on their persons, together with their blankets. The stipulation 184: TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of "protection for private property," is thus adroitly evaded, and our officers are obliged to abandon every- thing they cannot themselves carry. After journeying with knapsacks and packs about twenty miles, they get some relief; the lieutenant in charge contriving to im- press an old lumber-wagon, with a couple of wretched mules; thus securing transportation for such extra weight as the more provident captives may have been able to stagger under thus far. Marching progresses at the rate of from fifteen to twenty miles each day; the pri- soners walking between files of mounted guards. The roads are heavy with dust, the sun scorching; and thus, weary and faint, those Yankees plod through their hard, dusty journeys, and sink at night to sleep in their gar- ments, loaded with dirt and saturated with perspiration. No opportunities occur for washing of clothes, and scarcely for ablution of person, so that, before reaching New Iberia, they find themselves in a pitiable condition. There they are delivered to Lieut. Fuller, of the Con- federate army, who is a bitter hater of "Yankees." Under control of this officer they are marched all day without rations. Indeed, the chances of getting adequate food grow quite precarious. Detailed men are sent in advance of the "coffle," to obtain and cook corn meal into "pones." A prisoner's ration, distributed at the evening halt, consists of a junk of bread four inches square, and a slice of bacon an inch thick. To secure his share, a man must be alert; and woe to the wight who, weary or sick, neglects to attend the distribution! He must go supperless, or beg from some reluctant comrade. It is a spectacle alike curious and humiliating, to behold our half-famished " Yankees" rush about the "commissary," at his order: "Prisoners, fall in for your rations!" True it is, that no other than prison-life can DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 185 disclose so frightfully the selfish nature of man. Such crowding, pushing, and cursing of one another; such swinish struggles for precedency in a throng of hungry men ; are never, it is to be hoped, encountered outside of prison-gangs. The diurnal march begins at seven o'clock, A. M., continuing till noon; and, after a halt during the "heated term," it is resumed at four o'clock, P. M., and protracted till tho "cooking place" is reached. Often, when en- camping at meridian, on the grounds of some "secesh" planter, our "Yankees" are forbidden to approach the shelter of a tree, and sometimes denied access to a tank of water. Occasionally, they are regaled with a gratuitous concert of songs by rebel ladies, and must listen, with the best grace they can summon, to the "Southern Avenger," "Bonny Blue Flag" and similar affecting ditties. While in the yard of a rich planter, on the Teche, a bevy of fair traitresses requested songs from our officers and one of the dear creatures expressed particular anxiety to hear a celebrated "National air," the name of which she could not recollect. She was certain that it was neither our " Star Spangled Banner," "Hail Columbia,'* "Red, White, and Blue," nor any other patriotic effusion, which the gallant officers mentioned; and at length a wag of our party, Lieut. Page, suggested to the southern maiden that the "National air" she wanted might be "Old Bob Ridley." The intelligent damsel joyfully exclaimed that it was; and "Old Bob Ridley," being loudly called for, was presently given with unction, to the evident satisfaction of an appreciative southern audience. But other interludes, differing from these roadside voluntaries by rebel ladies, were met by our officers on their weary march. Once they witnessed that "peculiar" 186 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE tropical sport, the hunt of a runaway negro, and SAW the "game" brought down by bloodhounds, that, with gory jaws, and venting fierce yelps, leaped around and snap- ped at their naked victim. Below Alexandria, our prisoners suffered much from thirst; the Teche water, rank with vegetable slime, seeming to aggravate rather than diminish the demand for drink. Once, when nearly sinking from fatigue, they were halted near the mansion of a planter on the bayou; but the "lady" of the house refused all access to her water-tank, exclaiming "There's the bayou good enough for any (here the gracious female used a word profane) Yankee to drink !" This woman claimed to be of an " upper class ;" but had Mungo Park, the traveler, encountered her, he would, doubtless, have rated her far below those Africans of her sex whose native hospitality he extols so highly. The Fourth of July passed by our prisoners was a gloomy and wet one ; but when the march was over, and they reached the shelter of an old negro hut, the brave boys did not forget to give three rousing cheers in cele- bration of our national birth-day. The rebel guard could claim no share in such patriotic rejoicing. They turned away from those loyal captives, and, with customary southern taste, sought out the more attractive company of ladies in the negro quarters. The arrival of our " Yankees" at Alexandria called out the population of that city, some to denounce, others to laugh at, and a few, perhaps, to pity the way-worn pri- soners. At this point, Lieut.-Col. Clark, Confederate provost-marshal, assumed direction, and permitted our officers and citizens to remain exposed, under a fierce sun, without food or water, during the entire afternoon, while groups of delighted young ladies including two DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 187 daughters of General Dick Taylor amused themselves with a survey of the " dirty Yankees,'' from a balcony at Head Quarters. Late in the evening, the exhausted prisoners were marched to the upper loft of a building; an apartment seventy feet long by fifteen wide ; and there, to the num- ber of nearly two hundred, they were confined till morning. Besides our captured Federal officers, there had been brought from Brashear City about one hundred railroad laborers and a few other stragglers. These men were held as "citizen-prisoners," in retaliation, as was claimed, for the detention as hostages of southern citizens residing on the Teche, who had been arrested by G-eneral Banks, in his advance through the Attakapas country. A com- mon belief among the " secesh" seemed to be, that these poor fellows were "Northern planters," employed by Banks to work abandoned sugar estates ; and it was almost diverting to witness rebel bitterness as displayed in their comments on the miserable fortunes of such "vandal speculators." On the morning after their arrival at Alexandria, the half-famished prisoners were served with food, and per- mitted, under a strong guard, to wash themselves in the river. Returning to their quarters, they learned from rebel deserters (one hundred and fifty of whom were confined in a room below) that our forces under General Grant had taken Vicksburg. It was a morsel of news worth, glorification; and our "Yankees" testified their joy over it by making their prison-house ring with Union salvos. This brought down maledictions on them from the rebel commandant, and at noon they were abruptly or- dered to get ready for a journey up to Shreveport. Thereafter, having been marched through various streets, 188 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE " a show to all the populace," they were driven on board a boat, and found themselves ascending Red River. The passage to Shreveport was accompanied with daily and nightly suffering. One hundred and seventy-eight persons were crowded into a small flat-boat, with scarcely room to lie, or even stand, without a portion being thrust against engine and boiler. The heat became suffocating ; the stench was stifling. A rebel officer, named Lieut. Dean, of the " Crescent Guards," was now in command, and showed himself a cold-hearted tyrant over helpless prisoners. Rations had been cooked in advance for the voyage. They consisted mainly of corn-bread, destitute of salt, and were placed in two piles of " pones" aft of the boiler. The boat had been last used for the transporta- tion of beeves and mules. The accumulated filth on its deck was supposed to have been removed, when a shift- less negro had seemed to shovel it off. But no fastidious imagination was necessary to discover what had preceded the corn-bread upon that deck. The passage from Alex- andria to Shreveport occupied five days, but the " ra- tions" became disgusting before half the distance was accomplished. The stench from them grew intolerable. Our men sickened with fevers. Even the strongest turned from their filthy food in disgust. It was no relief to drink the warm, red, river water.. That only aug- mented thirst, and induced nausea and dysentery. Both officers and men, thus suffering, grew reckless of danger. One night, a rebel, claiming to be an adjutant general of General Steward a Prussian, and Lord some- body presented himself on board, and began a series of deliberate insults The outrage was borne till " forbear- ance ceased to be a virtue," and then, suddenly, one of our brave boys ordered the poltroon to leave the boat, and so resolutely did our " Yankees" second this command, DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 189 that the Confederate retreated precipitately. Had he delayed a moment, our officers would have flung him bo- dily into Red River. Our prisoners arrived at Shreveport on the day that a rebel legislature was commenced. As usual, crowds of citizens. gathered to gaze at the " Northern planters." A little boy, brought by his father to see the spectacle, innocently inquired, "if they were members of the Legislature ?" Assigned quarters in an old building in Texas street, the " Yankees" found themselves as badly situated as they had been at Alexandria. Their food, it is true, was better and more abundant, but the place of their abode was a place of torment. The yard of their prison-build- ing, enclosed by a high wall, was one vast sink, full of abominations. The air which invaded their windows was loaded with noisome and poisonous exhalations. Every breeze from the south brought deathly effluvium into the crowded apartment, where one hundred and seventy men were forced to mingle their food, their drink, and the breath of their nostrils, in an atmosphere already charged with noxious gases. At night the vapors became dense, impeding respiration and banishing sleep. Shreveport was the headquarters of Lieut.-General E. Kirby Smith. The rebel general's offices were located in the upper part of a small brick building, the lower story of which was devoted to those southern institutions a faro-bank and a liquor bar. The routine of prison existence at Shreveport was dreary indeed. But in a few weeks, our Federal officers were notified that they were to be sent to Tyler, in Texas. On the morning of their departure, the " Northern plant- ers" were separated from them, as, likewise, were two of their fellow officers, Captain Allen and Lieut. Page, both 190 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of the Corps d'Afrique, who, after an examination, were placed in chains, and, as was then reported, " reserved for execution." The parting from these apparently- doomed men was a painful one, as there appeared little hope on either side of another meeting. The march from Shreveport, under guard of " Richard- son's Texas Rangers," made our "Yankees" still better acquainted with the " tender mercies" of traitors ; for their new custodians let slip no opportunity of exhibiting their malignant hatred of Americans. Arrived at their destination, and confined in an ancient courthouse, the effects of hardships and ill-usage soon became apparent in a general prostration. Closely packed, as before, and denied exercise, the majority became feeble and hopeless, and many were ready to succumb to fatal disease. But, fortunately for their lives, they were at this juncture, on the 27th of August, removed to Camp Ford, four miles from Tyler ; where, in the open air, and with daily oppor- tunities of movement and ablution, they speedily gained in health and spirits. Leaving them thus situated, let us return to Brashear hospital, where, with my fellow-pri- soners, I am waiting an expected order to follow our com- rades toward Texas. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 191 CHAPTER XIX. A BAYOU AMBUSCADE. DAY at Brashear hospital begins, by each of us, except Lieut. Stevenson, making ablution in our common wash- bowl on the balcony. Breakfast discussed, the smokers indulge in cigars, and those who have books read them. Acquaintances call on Stratton and Parse, citizen prison- ers. The former of these was lessee or agent of a plan- tation, the latter a hotel-keeper. Stratton has a wife, who brings him occasional luxuries, and is endeavoring to procure his liberation. I visit our wounded soldiers in other wards. Some are badly hurt. The poor lad Newlan was shot through head and body, and his arm is fractured. He bears up nobly, and, clasping my hands, whispers "Tell my captain that I tried to do my duty." "You have done it well, my brave boy !" I respond; and the gallant youth sinks back, with a smile on his pallid lips. Sergeant Deming, in another ward, is more comforta- ble, and in good spirits. Both he and Newlan were wounded, while defending the gun, with Lieut. Stevenson. In another room lies an interesting young man, belonging to the Connecticut regiment. He is of slight frame, and has features delicate as a girl's. Quiet and gentle, he lies reading his bible ; or occasionally talks of his home and his mother. But the signet of death is on the 192 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE beautiful forehead of this poor boy. He will never see his mother's cottage in New Haven again. One of our attendants is the wife of my servant George; a fat, good-humored damsel, who gets a mosquito-net for me, and thereafter forages successfully for a tin wash- basin. She is claimed, as a "fugitive" by some planter on the Teche. Some of these captured "contrabands" appear to take their fate philosophically, while others bewail it bitterly. A free negro old man, who came out from New York, as steward of the William Woodbury, the transport which brought me to New Orleans, is now detained as a hospital servant. We hear that many blacks were murdered by the rebels during their attack on Brashear City. The town bears marks of thorough sacking. Rebel steam-boats are constantly conveying plunder away. Trains of captured negroes, mules, and horses, are daily crossed to Berwick, thence to be convoyed to upper Lousiana and Texas. The rebels claim to have gained sixteen hundred prisoners, and three million dollars' worth of quartermaster and commissary stores, by their raid, thus far. They boast, likewise, of capturing twenty-three flags. Our " Ironsides'* regiment has lost a stand of costly colors, which I had sent, previous to my going to the Bceuff, to Col. Nott's quarters, for safe keeping; a precaution that I now regret; for if I had taken them with me, the enemy should never have cap- tured them. I would have buried or burned them first ; but Col. Nott yielded them to rebel possession, in the somewhat fastidious belief that, as our regiment had not been able to defend its colors, the enemy were entitled to demand them. I should not, I confess, have been so scrupulous ; for, in point of fact, our regiment was not responsible for the loss of its flags ; the greater portion of DEPABTMENT OF THE GULF. 193 our brave rank and file being at Lafourche Crossing, when Biashear City succumbed to surprise. Our surgeon, Dr. Willetts, makes himself actively useful, in attending both foes and friends, who need his skillful services. His zeal and discretion render him quite a favorite with professional "confreres" of "secesh" persuasion. Our assistant Surgeon Throop is paroled, and proceeds to the Federal lines, in order to settle the question of status regarding captured medical men, who claim to be "non-cpmbatants," and, as such, entitled to their immediate liberation. On the third day of July, we are notified by Dr. Hughes, post-surgeon, to get ready for a move on the morrow. Mrs. S , having failed to effect the libera- tion of her husband, volunteers and receives permission to accompany him. Our arrangements for transportation being finished, we celebrate the "glorious Fourth," by embarking on a river steamer for our journey inland. I provide myself with a present supply of " Confederate money," for which I pay cent, per cent, in Federal cur- rency, and then, after bidding farewell to our wounded and paroled who remain, proceed, with my fellow- prisoners, to the point of embarkation. Confederate Dr. Hughes shakes hands, gives me a parting "grip," donates a full flask of our quartermaster's "Bourbon," and then introduces me to a "jolly flat-boat" sort of skipper, who repeats the "grip" aforesaid, con cspressione, as your music-teacher might say. Finally, after sundry delays and difficulties, we get ourselves embarked with Lieut. Stevenson comfortably bestowed on a saloon settee and before sunset steam away from Brashear City, and up through the Atchafalaya. Stratton and wife are allowed a state-room, and treated to coffee and a luncheon; and 194 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE presently the boat-captain, approaching us mysteriously, beckons me to a corner of the cabin. "Colonel," he whispers, "I've got just one state-room left, and I've kept that for you!" Thereupon, opening a door, he discloses a couple of spacious berths, with white counterpanes and musquito-nets. I thank the rebel skipper heartily, and return his courtesy, in a like " fra- ternal spirit," by tendering a draught of my "Bourbon;" whereof, I must add, he shows excellent appreciation. Then, after exchanging intelligent glances, and a few words of friendly chat, we part for the night; our skipper to his steering-house and myself to tender a share of the "state-room 1 ' to one of my captured comrades. Col. Nott is already ensconced near the couch of our wounded officer, Stevenson; so Lieut. Sherman secures the extra berth and musquito-bar; and we are thus made com- fortable for another night, at least. The Atchafalaya, bordered by green woodlands, with glimpses, over intervening marsh-land, of lakes and forests that extend behind Brashear City, cannot fail to recall an earlier incident of this year's campaigning the fight of our gun-boat Diana. In this narrow channel, the beleaguered steamer sustained a fatal conflict, till forced to strike her flag to the enemy. It was in the latter days of March, 1863, before the first advance of General Banks through the Attakapas, that a little fleet of gun-boats steamed in Berwick Bay and its contiguous waters, under Commodore McKean Buchanan. There were the Diana, Kinsman, and Estrella, the flag-ship Calhoun, and, if I remember well, the Sachem. Brashear City had been captured by this armament during Butler's closing days, and about the middle of January our gun-boats met two rebel steamers, called the Cotton and Hunt, and chased them up the DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 195 Teehe. A daily sea-engagement, thereafter, with a dog- ged marching forward of our infantry on land, resulted in a blowing .up of the Confederate steamer Cotton, at a heavy price for us the death of poor Buchanan. He was shot in the moment of victory, and left his name to that fort which was afterwards finished on the Brashear shore. Our troops fell back, the rebels followed, and regained their ground; and so the month of February passed ; we occupying one shore of the beautiful Berwick Bay and the Confederate forces freely ranging on the other. In March we drew back to the Bayou BoDuff, a channel penetrating from the bay to lakes and water- sheets which intersected the marshes in rear of Brashear City. Our outpost forces still remained at Fort Bu- chanan; and, about the twenty-seventh of March, one gun-boat, the Diana, was dispatched upon a sugar specu- lation. I doubt if this fact be recorded in official reports, but it is certain that our stout little gun-boat, with her two thirty-two pound broadside guns, her Parrot and her Dahlgreen brass-pieces, and her crew of ninety, officers and men, steamed up, one pleasant morning, to the widow Cochrane's sugar-house, on the Atchafalaya, with two capacious barges towed behind her, and a document in somebody's hands, which purported to be a bill-of-sale for all the widow's sugar. Whether there was playing at cross-purposes or not has never come to light, but our good madame made a great outcry about her sugar, and declared the bill-of-sale a fraudulent one. Meantime, Captain Peterson remarked that rebel scouts were swarm- ing round our pickets, stationed 'on the lady's grounds. Sharp skirmishing succeeded, and it soon became ap- parent that Confederate plotting lurked behind this sugar speculation. Some twenty hogsheads had been rolled on one of the barges, when our gun-boat captain 196 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE prudently resolved to wash his hands of the affair. The sugars were re-landed, all hands piped on board, and the Diana steamed for Brashear City. Widow Cochrane saved her saccharine wealth from "Yankee vandals," and our gun-boat sheered off just in season to escape a well-concocted ambuscade. The bill-of-sale, a bait flung out to greedy quarter- masters through the rebel spies who lurked within our lines, had failed to compass the Diana's capture for that day, at least ; but the Confederates confidently counted on another visit of the gun-boat to secure the sugap which had nearly been her prize. So reckoned Colonel Gray, the rebel officer in command, and he prepared his am- buscade. Some hundreds of selected riflemen were sent down to lie in wait below the widow Cochrane's pre- mises; the Valverde Battery, of five brass pieces, took position to deliver a raking fire across the bayou. Ca- valry detachments, under Major Boon, a Texan Hanger, waited under cover of the woods that fringed the water. Every favorable point was made a cover for some squad of sharpshooters, supporting six-pound howitzers. Thus snugly ambushed, the Confederate trappers waited, for their game. Meantime, unconscious of this scheming, Gen. Weitzel, as our fate would have it, sent an "order from his head quarters at Bayou Boeuff, to make an armed reconnois- sance of Grand Lake. The despatch was conveyed by one of Weitzel's aids, Lieutenant Allen, who was also charged to bring back a report of the reconnoissance. The Diana was detailed, and detachments of infantry were send aboard of her, as sharpshooters. Young Allen was a gallant officer. I dined in company with him, in our camp, the day before he started on this fatal expedition. Captain Jewett and Lieutenant Kirby, of the 160th DEPAETMENT OF THE GULF. 197 New York Volunteers, Lieutenant Buckley and Lieute- nant Laurie, of the Twelfth Connecticut infantry, and as brave a complement of officers and crew as ever manned a gun-boat, accompanied Lieut. Allen. Grand Lake, as we know, is an expanse of water at the north and rear of Brashear City. With Flat Lake, Lake Pelourde and ather aqueous sheets, it bears the general name of Chetimaches Lake. Into these water-beds the Atchafalaya, flowing from Red River, disembogues its tide, and out of them debouches, to form Berwick Bay, and lose it volume in another lower bay, to which it gives its name. Fort Buchanan's guns, at Brashear City, commanded the mouths of both the Atchafalaya and the Teche, which thereabove unite ; and near their junction is the town of Pattersonville. A swampy island, bisecting its waters, shapes two channels for the Atchafalaya one through Grand Lake, and the other curving by the shore of Pattersonville, so that a steamer may sail up into Grand Lake on the Brashear side, and, passing round the island, may return by a channel on the Berwick side. The Diana started on her reconnoissance, with Fort Buch- anan thus upon her right. She steamed through all the navigable waters back of Brashear City, saw no sign of rebels in their swampy range, and might as safely have retraced her course without encountering enemies. The ambuscade prepared by Colonel Gray was on the other channel. There the rebel gangs had lain in wait all night, expecting the Diana to revisit widow Cochrane's sugar- house. In the morning they beheld our gun-boat steam- ing up, but, to their chagrin, she was headed for the Grand Lake channel. Peering from their skulking-places all along the shore, from Pattersonville far down toward Berwick City, they could look across the woody island, and discern our steamer's smoke as she moved hither and 198 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE thither, reconnoitering the lakes. Hour after hour they watched, wondering what occupied the Yankee gun-boat, and venting divers maledictions on her crew, until at length, as the day wore, they gave up every hope of get- ting her within their toils. But Destiny was spinning her own web of mischance for the Americans. Our gun-boat had accomplished her reconnoissauce; her head was turned toward Brashear ; when, in an evil moment, some one said : " Supposing we go round by Pattersonville, and give the rebs a shell or two. " "And stop at widow Cochrane's, " added some one, laughingly. The proposition was relished, it is probable, by, all; for this monotonous duty of exploring muddy bayous had been wearisome enough. There were several hours of sun yet left, and they might give the enemy a "big scare " meantime. So Captain Peterson and Lieutenant Allen laid their heads together for a consultation, and the upshot was that they ventured to take the other chan- nel. Discretion might demand that, having finished the duties of their trip, they should report without delay ; but an adventure, with some dash of danger, tempted them, and so they turned the boat toward Pattersonville. Merrily whirled the wheels, and our Diana dashed out of Grand Lake, and into the upper Atchafalaya, with flags flying, and guns all shotted, ready for the rebels. To run past Pattersonville and through the Teche mouth, bid good day to widow Cochrane, and, perhaps, have a flying skirmish with rebels and "bag" a few these were incitements to freshen one's spirits ; and so our gallant gun-boat was headed for a rebel ambuscade, and our brave sailors and soldiers rushed, unknowingly, into the toils DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 199 which an adherence to their simple duty would have ren- dered harmless. Meantime, the overjoyed Confederates followed, with their eyes, the course of the Diana. They watched her progress from the lake, her turn into the Teche, and her swift descent toward Berwick. Their cavalry could not restrain themselves, but dashed along the shore. Then a blue puff of smoke rose from our gun-boat's deck, a loud, metallic bark shivered the air, and half-a-dozen rebels in a group were stretched out, dying, on their dying horses. The survivors fled into the timber. A shell now curved in a sharp arc, and dropped amid the woods ; a point- blank shot crashed through the thickets. No response was made from the rebel rifles. The Diana was allowed to come within short range before a shot was fired at her. Then, from long lines of hidden marksmen, and from all the brass artillery pieces, shot and balls were poured upon our doomed Americans, in an unbroken shower. The rebel cavalry, dismounting, crouched behind trees and bushes on the bayou bank, discharging their revolvers as fast as they could load them. No human force might stand up under such a hail of lead and iron as beat upon the Diana's decks from every quarter. Her cannoneers were driven from their pieces in the casemates; they scarcely fired a dozen times. Her infantry were power- less, exposed in mass to raking fires. They gave the rebels a few volleys, and then sought shelter between decks, Now the exultant rebels grew frantic. Their yells and shouts mingled with the clap of howitzers and the crack of rifles and revolvers. The gun-boat's tiller ropes were shot away from both wheels. The engineers stood by their engines, working the boat by verbal orders, in default of steering apparatus. One moment her head 200 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE was pushed to starboard, the next to larboard, to avoid encountering a bank. The channel was narrow, and rapid headway was impossible. Forward, the machinery was covered by defences ; abaft, no part could be protected. The positions of Confederate batteries and sharp-shooters were changing constantly, to keep their sweep of the Diana. " There was no moment," said a rebel witness of the scene, " that a galling fire of six-pounders and Minie rifles was not poured into that boat." While one section of artillery sought some new position, in advance, another section hurled its shells and round shot without pause. Rebel rifles swept the decks of living combat- ants, while rebel howitzers crippled the craft. Captain Peterson beheld his men driven from their guns, and rallied them repeatedly. The gallant fellows followed him to their posts, but only to be shot down mercilessly. The fight had lasted thirty minutes when the captain fell, struck by a round shot in the breast, and died instantly. Lieutenant Dolliver shared the fate of Captain Peterson. Lieutenant Allen was shot down soon after. Two infantry lieutenants sank beneath their wounds. Captain Jewett was stricken next. Lieutenant Hall commanded till he fell. Dead and dying strowed the decks. A plunging shot, penetrating double case- mating, crashed through the pilot house, and Enfield bul- lets perforated the iron sheathing. A fireman had one leg cut smoothly off; a boatswain's mate received a shot which tore the bones of both his legs completely out. McNally, one of the engineers, was killed by a fragment which came crushing through the engine-room from a shell that had exploded in the wheel-house. These strange freaks of violence were noted amid clouds of scalding steam that filled the space below, to which all living men were fleeing for shelter. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 5201 So the fight went on, for nearly three hours, our de- voted gun-boat making two miles down the crooked bayou. Three officers directed successively Lieut. Harry West- ern the last ; and, during half the running of that terri- ble gauntlet, this gallant young commander strove to save his boat, refusing to surrender. When the pilot and an engineer had swum ashore, and all the working oi the engine devolved on Lieutenant Mars ; when the ex- haust-pipe had been severed, and the engine-room was choked with vapor steam at one hundred and twenty pounds pressure, and the boat unmanageable ; when, in fine, all efforts to escape were plainly futile, then stout Harry Western gave the signal of surrender. It was time. Rebels on the banks were wild with joy. Our steamer's boats had all been riddled, or shot from their davits, and the Confederate officers came aboard in sugar-coolers. One delirious ranger could not wait for transportation, but leaped into the bayou and swam off to the Diana. He was a Texan, and pealed out an Indian whoop. Then, spying a violin belonging to the chief engineer, Lieute- nant Mars, he clutched it, jumped again into the water, gained a bank, and, mounting on a caisson, played and danced the tune of "Dixie." Then his comrades pad- dled out in sugar-coolers, and began to swarm upon our gun-boat. But, in such a gun-boat as it now appeared, no one might recognise our trim Diana. The scene, above and below, was ruin refined upon. The upper works were riddled like a sieve from stem to stern. Every berth was cut in splinters. Chairs, tables, knives and forks, books, broken glass and china, shattered panels, blood- wet beds and pools of gore and the dead and wounded were everywhere. Such was the Diana's fight a desperate and stubborn 202 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE effort to escape from overwhelming force and numbers. Had the odds been less unequal, or a chance left for re- sistance, those gallant youngsters who survived would have come off victorious, or sunk, with their vessel. But an ambuscade in Louisiana bayous! one might as well fight the air as attempt defence against a foe as im- pervious as ubiquitous. DEPABTMENT OF THE GULF. 203 CHAPTER XX. FRANKLIN, ON THE TEC HE. ON the fifth of July we awake to discover ourselves at Franklin, on the Teche. Parting from my friendly steam- boat captain, I follow the negro lad who shoulders my trunk, and soon find myself, with the other prisoners, at a spacious hotel; or what had formerly been one, but was now devoted to surgeons, nurses, and sick and wounded rebels. Lieut. Stevenson is placed in a lower ward of the hospital, and my fellow-officers, with Stratton and wife, are conducted to a rear gallery, on the second story, overlooking a quadrangular court. Three rooms opened from one side of this gallery, and Col. Nott, Sherman, and myself were assigned the middle one. Our married couple flanked us in one apartment, and the other, as we speedily learned, was occupied by two Federal surgeons and a Massachusetts officer, captured at Bra- shear City. Our change of quarters had not been for the worst. Here we were comfortable and quiet; though strictly guarded, night and day, by half a dozen rebel rangers with loaded muskets, who patrolled, by turns, the gallery. They were civil fellows, however, bringing us water, and accompanying us, with cocked pieces, when we stepped beyond the gallery. Their unsophisticated back-woods traits were evident, and I amused myself with classifying them. One was a gay "Lothario," Russen, who skir- mished continually, on the gallery, with "secesh" dam- 204 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE sels; another, "O'Neal," was a Vidocq in watchfulness. If one of us turned over, in the night, this alert sentry would click his gun-trigger at the window. " Miller," a German, was inclined to Unionism, but the corporal, a polite youth, was rebel to the spine. Our fare, at this hospital, was excellent; coffee being brought us at daylight, and a bountiful breakfast served by a negro waiter about nine o'clock. Between four and five, P. M., an ample dinner was brought up cloth and table being set, and coffee following the meal. A courteous young Parisian, attached to some staff, as a lieutenant, was very attentive to Col. Nott, whose acquaintance he had made ; and sundry bottles of choice Falkirk ale, with other dainties, were consequential kindnesses thereof. Opportunely, likewise, one day, a present of fresh butter arrived from Madame P , the lady whom I had met at Dr. R s house, on Berwick Bay, and who was an acquaintance of Col. Nott's father a captain in the staff of General Bowen, in New Orleans. This lady's plan- tation was near Franklin, on the Teche. Altogether, our fortnight at Franklin apart from its close confinement was no unpleasant interlude of the prison-drama. On the 19th of July, we left this hospital, for a march, in charge of Lieut. Duncan, of Speight's battalion, and nine guards. We parted from the two Yankee surgeons, who were to be immediately paroled, but took with us their room-mate, Lieut. Humble, of the Fourth Massa- chusetts Infantry. Outside of the hospital, we joined a batch of Union prisoners, captured at Brashear City and on the Lafourche bayou. They consisted mainly of citizens, but there were three Federal oflicers, one of them a fellow New Yorker, Captain Fred. Van Tine, of the 181st New York Volunteers, and the other two Lieutenants Basset and Wilson, of the 48th Massachusetts DEPABTMENT OF THE GULP. 205 Infantry. They had been captured near Donaldsonville, on the Lafourche, and from them we received the wel- come intelligence that both Vicksburg and Port Hudson were ours. It was glorious news, to inspire us for the march, and enabled us to step out quite manfully. Port Hudson surrendered on the 8th day of July, and immediately afterwards troops were dispatched down the river, to Donaldsonville, which the rebels, who had captured Brashear City and the railroad, were then threatening in heavy force. Capt. Van Tine's regiment, the 131st New York Infantry, arrived at Donaldsonville, on the 12th of July, and on the same day marched, with remnants of several regiments, in a brigade of about fifteen hundred, to drive the rebels down Bayou La- fourche. Skirmishing and desultory fighting commenced at once, continuing through the day and night; and on the following morning our young captain was sent to the front, in a skirmish line of about fifty men extended a half-mile, on one side of the bayou General Dudley and Col. Martin, with another brigade, being on the opposite bank. It was while engaged in a brisk skirmish with the enemy, at the front, that Captain Van Tine found himself suddenly charged by a heavy mass of cavalry, which, getting between the feeble and attenuated skirmish line and our main body, drove the latter back to Donald- sonville, and swallowed the former up bodily. Our captain and his brave boys fell into the hands of rebels of a scurvy character, who robbed them of watches, rings, and other valuables, beat the feebler ones with their sabres, and finished by marching the enlisted men within a few miles of our lines, where they stripped them of all remaining property, administered a hasty parole, and left them to find their own way to liberty. Captain Van Tine, and two Massachusetts lieutenants, were conveyed 206 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE to Thibodeaux jail, and thence to Brashear and Franklin, whence they joined our party, for a tramp across the prairies. Our " coffle" was a straggling one. The rebel guards on horseback rode in front and rear, and our motley gang of prisoners tramped the dusty road between. We marched fifteen miles that day, and camped about dusk at a sugar-house, sleeping in wagon-bodies, which we found Tinder the sheds. We had one large wagon, drawn by six mules. In this vehicle were carried our baggage and rations. It was an ambulance, also, though a rough one, for our wounded comrade, Lieutenant Stevenson, a couch and six for Mrs. S and an occasional stage for such of the prisoners as gave out on the road. Our rations con- sisted of flour, corn-meal, and bacon. Bread was cooked for us by negroes, at the halting-places, and our bacon toasted at the camp-fires, on a forked stick, gave a savory relish to the meal, Starting next morning at daybreak, we halted, for din- ner, on the banks of the Teche, where our corn was cooked at a planter's house, in the shape of hot " pones," which we sweetened with " syrup." Here we met a pleasant French physician, who examined Lieut. Steven- son's foot, and declared that its condition did not war- rant our wounded officer to continue his journey beyond New Iberia. Resuming our travels, I began to take note of the "citizen-prisoners." Besides Stratton, the "Northern planter," and Parce, the publican, there was an old man, named Holliday, who had been the lessee of a plantation near Brashear City, and was one of the most garrulous and truculent of veterans, denouncing rebels without stint, whenever they were out of ear-shot. He showed himself a stout pedestrian, and kept among our fore- most. Clark and Knowlton, who had been assistants of DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 207 Stratton on his government plantation, a young fellow named Emerson, accused by the rebels with having twice deserted their service ; a couple of old Creoles, charged with having favored Federals, a negro who was said to have shot a rebel sergeant, and a noisy nondescript, who formerly sold newspapers in our Brashear camps and was, doubtless, a spy with] Haley, a clerk, made up our civilian party on the march to New Iberia. There had been another prisoner brought with the citizens, to Franklin, but he had escaped on the night before our departure, by descending a rope from the window. This man, named Thomson, had been arrested at his home, on the Teche, for having, as was said, displayed a Union flag when our troops marched up the bayou. The rebels at Franklin expressed much anxiety to recapture and hang this " Lincoln sympathizer." 208 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XXI. PRAIRIE TRAVELING. I AM resting in the wagon, after a tramp of ten miles, and we are nearly in sight of New Iberia, when, crack! bang ! pistols and rifles explode, and the air is suddenly thick with clouds of dust. Roaring, shouting, and a plunging of mules, confuse our senses, for a moment, and in the next we become witness of a general stampede among guards and prisoners. A vicious bull has broken from a drove of cattle near by, and, careering, madly, down the road, carries terror into the ranks of bipeds. Officers and citizens ingloriously disperse, and two or three over- vigilant guards, apprehensive of an attempt to escape, send bullets flying after the fugitives. From our ram- part, the wagon, a few of us enjoy the sport ; but for a minute or more, there really seems danger to the foot- farers. But the bull is brought to bay, our guards resume position, and we soon after enter New Iberia, and are halted in front of the Provost Marshal's office. Here we become a mark for rebel citizens, home guards, and such gentry, who make us aware of their rather unamiable disposition toward us, by significant remarks about hanging, shooting, and other summary modes of dealing with Yankee prisoners. We proceed thence to an old saw mill, near the river, where, having cooked our rations, we endeavor, in a heavy shower of rain, to get ourselves sheltered till morning. Lieut. Stevenson, who has suffered severely from his wound, during two days DEPAETMENT OF THE GULF. 209 of tedious wagon-jolting, is here remanded to a hospital, and will remain, under care, till restored to a better condition for journeying. I spread my blankets on some boards in the saw-mill, and the rest dispose themselves as comfortably as possible, when an abrupt order arrives from the provost-marshal, requiring us to move. An ass, in the lion-skin of authority, named Brien, notifies Lieut. Duncan that no Yankee prisoners will be permitted to remain within the town-limits. Our Texan and his men are exercised not a little by this order, and visit no light maledictions on this Louisianian provost-marshal, as well as on Louisianians and provost-marshals generally. "If I had a hundred Texans, instead of nine," cries the bold lieutenant, "I'd clear out this one-horse town of all the mean 'Cagians in it!" But swearing is no help for us; so we load up, in the rain, and, with much grum- bling of everybody, get started for another location. Our provoked commander is determined to go no farther then compelled, this night; and we halt, about a quarter of a mile from our first location, at an old sugar- house just beyond the "Newtown" precincts. Here, unloading once more, in wet and darkness, we bivouac under the eaves of sheds, and, after a contest with fleas for possession, resign ourselves to the slumber of wea- riness: At six o'clock, next morning, we have breakfasted, and are on the march, with lively remembrances of provost- marshal Brien. The day is hot, but we proceed twelve miles before halting, when we enjoy a good meal and noontime siesta at a farm-house pleasantly shaded with orange-trees. Turning off, then, from the Teche high- way, we strike off toward the prairies, and after a tramp of 'seven miles, reach a roadside house of entertainment, called the " Texas Hotel," where we get an excellent 210 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE supper, at Lieut. Duncan's expense, and take shelter from a night-squall in beds that, despite the fleas, prove decidedly welcome. Five o'clock A. M. finds us moving, next day ; crossing Vermillion Bayou at the outset, and pursuing our march toward another stream, calL d "Queue-tortite" or "Turtle- tail bayou." On this day, I ride a few miles on a pony, loaned by one of the guards, and have the luck to discover a bunch of onions hanging in a deserted hut on the prairie. These guards of ours are good-hearted fellows ; always ready to accommodate, and, like their officer, inclined to favor us as much as possible. " Gentlemen, " remarks Lieut. Duncan to the Federal officers "I shall consider you under parole, and place no guard about you. We must watch these yer citizens, and if that deserter thar tries to run, I'll put a ball through him right smart; but you all, that are officers, may just consider yourselves under parole of honor. That's enough between soldiers, gentlemen!" So we get on very amicably. Corporal Wiggins, or " Corporal X," as his comrades ca'u him, is our dashing cavalier, who makes wild rushes off to right and left, visiting houses in the timber. He is a capital rider, like all Texans, but I would not back him as a sharp-shooter. I think he discharged five barrels of his revolver at a chicken, within eight feet, this morning, without any effect but a crow of derision from the feathered biped. We have another corporal, Handkomer, an honest, genial fellow, and his brother, of the same stamp; "Bill Clowes," a ranger, full of " yarns," who rides a silken- hided mare, with the pretty name of " Red-bird ;" Caspar, a German, who likes to grumble ; John Weed, in green goggles, who keeps a sharp look-out for straggling citizens, but is a simple, warm-hearted man ; Weldon and DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 211 Chapman, young Texans ; and a curious nondescript named Bell-air, whom the rest of them call a " 'Cagian,', and who has acquaintances among all the French Creoles on our route. I must here explain that a " 'Cagian" is one of those dwellers on prairie or bayou-marge, whom we find com- posing a large portion of the population of Lower Lou- isiana. Many possess small plantations on lands re- claimed from the wilderpess, or near a " timber-island," or the banks of a stream, which in rainy seasons over- flows, and in droughts becomes a bog or shallow. The " 'Cagian's" isolated dwelling, " la cassine," often gives name to the small water course in its neighborhood; and he dwells with his family in almost patriarchal simplicity and primitive seclusion. Often, in traversing an exten- sive prairie, you will find the dwelling of one of these planters, encompassed with orange or peach trees, and surrounded by ploughed fields ; his wife and black-eyed daughters engaged in spinning or lariat-twisting ; his stout sons attending to herds of cattle on the prairie. Here the more, thrifty " 'Cagian" passes his days, con- tent with simple comforts, and coveting no luxuries be- yond his swift ponies and giant-horned oxen. The poorer " 'Cagian" builds his cabin in swamps or pine-barrens, and makes a precarious living by fishing or hunting. But neither the very comfortable planter, with his brace or more of slaves, nor the sallow-cheeked habitant of an isolated cabin, has much affinity with nabobs of wealthy Louisianian parishes ; those sugar-lords who number their human stock as our cattle-breeding " 'Cagian" counts his yearlings. The dogmas of "secession" and "state rights" have no charms for these independent denizens of forest and prairie, whose ranks have furnished, in other days, the Red River "voyageur" the bee-hunter, and the 212 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE trapper. Therefore, we find these people loth to follow rebel-lead, and often in conflict with the military forces which strive to drag them from their humble homes as conscripts. "But what is the " 'Cagian?" and why is he called by this name ?" I am asked ; and reply, that, to the best of my belief, he is the descendant of those original French settlers who, under tempting promises of French prime ministers, or magnificent scheming of Scotch John Law, came out to New World colonies, to die of hardships and poverty, and leave a like fortune as heritage for their children. The wide-spread French possessions, reaching from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico, were once known as "Acadie," and their Creole inhabitants de- scribed as " Acadiens." An ancient French pronuncia- tion is still retained in the corruption, " 'Cagians," used indiscriminately by Texans, to designate the poor Creole Louisianians who dwell on prairie and bayou between the Sabine and Mississippi. Our third morning's march from New Iberia was a hot and weary one, and we were glad, indeed, to reach, near noon, a prairie " ranche," as the Texans called it, occu- pied by a " 'Cagian," who spoke excellent French, and informed us that the spot was called " Tasso's grove." The Creole himself, who entertained us hospitably, on rich milk, hot bread, and peaches, and accompanied us several miles on our way, was an intelligent man, and had a picturesque face, which, as if in conformity to the name of his residence, resembled much our portraits of Torquato Tasso. From this pleasant resting-place, we proceeded, after dinner, to a piece of timber known as Peach-tree point, where was situated the house, or "la cassine" as our " 'Cagian" said, of one Miles Wells, for whom our Texan commander had a message from some DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 213 rebel comrade. Here we replenished our canteens, but, finding no corn for the mules, pushed on toward another camping-place. Bill Clowes had lent me his ' Red-bird," for a "lift" upon the road, and I was jogging on, with the guard, when we were suddenly drenched by a heavy thunder shower. Striking into a gallop, with " Corporal X," we speedily made our way to a " ranche" which lay to our left, on the prairie, and, reaching it, found a deserted log-house, quite roomy and dry, with a contiguous cottage, likewise vacant, but containing a bed and other furniture. I proceeded to select a spot whereon to bivouac, discov- ered a shallow feed-trough, which I appropriated as a cradle, and therein spread my blankets, under a shed that sheltered the porch. Meantime, " Corporal X," "prospecting" for whatever might be "lying around loose," extracted an old wooden saddle-tree out of a dry water-cask, and presented it to me, as earnest of future " transportation." The wagon, with our supplies, pre- sently came up. Stratton and his wife soon made them- selves comfortable in a "furnished cottage," and, after a light supper, we all bestowed ourselves snugly. The next day saw me "mounted." Corporal Hand- komer had brought with him from Franklin a fine Ameri- can horse, of great size and strength, which had been led, thus far, for lack of an extra saddle. But my prize on the night previous, in the shape of a wooden tree, of Spanish pattern, was speedily turned to account by our clever guards, who at once interested themselves in get- ting up an establishment" for me. " Corporal X" man- ufactured a pair of tough stirrups out of a strip of ox- hide ; Bill Clowes furnished pack-strings ; Handkomer supplied blanket and girth ; and in a short time I found myself once more of the " equestrian" order. I shall 214 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE not venture to boast of- the figure which I cut, after climbing to a perilous altitude on the top of saddle, great-coat, and blankets ; let it suffice that I realized an agreeable change from the weary foot-work, in jack-boots of previous days. Gayly enough, I trotted ahead of the wagon, that morning, and pushed on briskly to a roadside " inn," where I ordered breakfast for the party, and awaited their coming, like an independent traveler. We obtained a fresh and bountiful meal, at this place, paying for it the reasonable sum of a dollar per capita in Confed- rate currency ; whereafter, ascending once more to my camel's hump, I continued the journey rejoicingly. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 215 CHAPTER XXII. CROSSING THE BIG MARY. t SHALL never forget my journey over those Louisi- anian prairies that stretch between the Teche country and Sabine river on the Texas border. It seems to me that I can still behold the long, long miles of sun-burnt road extending to a timber island, and the green, cool shades on reaching one ; the isolated ranches and dis- mantled log-huts; the continuous line of telegraph-posts, decaying in their sockets ere a wire was fixed to them ; the herds of cattle and wild horses; the short, stunted herbage; the low water-courses, dried-up springs, and miry bogs, that in the rainy season swell to freshets all these features of the route are stamped on memory as if branded by hot iron. Every foot of arid ground was measured by the tread of weary prisoners, marching through the parching hours, depressed, home-sick, and hopeless. I cut a grotesque figure, very likely, when mounted on a mammoth horse, the loan of my indulgent guard. La Mancha's errant knight would have been "nowhere'* in my company, and Ichabod Crane's dread charger, "Gun- powder," was but a mustang-pony to my steed colossal. I had my naked saddle-tree bound on the courser's spine, above a blanket, with the piece of lariat. An ancient overcoat served for saddle-cloth, and gave my seat a level with the horse's ears. No bridle had I, but a lariat noosed around the under lip and jaw of my poor barb 216 TWENTY MONTHS IN THJii kept him in prompt subjection. Stirrups I boasted. They were loops of ox-hide, pendent by two cords of cotton from the saddle-tree. Thus mounted, and "ac- coutred as I was," in dusty shirt, blue trousers, and jack-boots, with hat slouched over my brows, I might have seemed a melodramatic brigand going to execution, or a jayhawker led out to be " lynched." Lieut. Duncan was always a companionable fellow, though "secesh" to the backbone; stern, when he cnose to be, and ready to draw revolver on a fugitive, but courteous withal, and genial, in his way. He looked at me with curious gaze, when first I met his eye, thus mounted and caparisoned. A merry twinkle answered my "Good morning." "Til bet you," said he, "that your own wife would not know you." "Maybe not, lieutenant," I replied, "I wish I were at home to try her, however." "I'd like to send you thar," rejoined the Texan, "and write your wife to keep you thar," he added. So we jog on gently ; for a trot or gallop would be fatal to my equilibrium, perched upon this pinnacle of horse-flesh. The lieutenant and I make detours on the prairie, while our wagon, and the line of prisoners on foot, and Texan guard on ponies, keep the half-obliterated stage-road. In an hour we find ourselves a mile or two behind, my fellow cavalier shooting several prairie-hens and other wilderness game. We presently arrive at a wide bog. ''Big Mary!" says the lieutenant, who has crossed this prairie more than once before. " I swum my horse yer, when I travelled this range the last time." "What! swum that mud-hole?" "I reckon so," returned the Texan. "There was right smart o' water yer abouts the day I forded it." DEPAKTMENT OF THE GULP. 217 This, then, I mentally repeated, is the "Grand Marie," marked on old Louisiana maps as a broad-flowing river. I looked around upon the muddy bottom, and could see wide hollows, where some shallow pools of water were yet lingering. But no trace of a great river-bed was visible. "You'd hardly believe it," added the lieutenant; "but 'twas a heap harder fording this yer Big Mary than Ver- million Bayou, that we've passed, or yonder 'Monteau river. The water out yer riz a right smart freshet in the rains. Here we are right on to whar the ford was. Thar's a heap o' mud yer. I'll pick out a trail." So saying, the lieutenant pushed his pony in advance, and crossed a sort of causeway, sinking fetlock deep in mud. I followed in his track, my heavier animal getting almost mired in the first steps. The Texan reined his steed on the solid prairie, and looked back upon my slipping charger. " Try a small piece to the right ! I reckon thar's a better place to cross !" he called to me ; and, following his directions, I drew hard upon my horse's under jaw with dexter digits. In another moment we were floun- dering in the bog, my boot-tops sunk below the mud level, and' thick, adhesive mire half swallowing steed and rider. Well it was for the man, that neither lariat girth nor ox- hide stirrup failed in tough tenacity. Quite fortunate for the horse, that he was strong and resolute, or perhaps Big Mary had become a Yankee grave that day. The brave lieutenant, who at first waxed merry over our deep wallowing, grew presently quite anxious for the safety of his prisoner. " Hold on right smart!" he halloed. " That's -a great animal under you ! Give him the spur, right smart !" 218 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE But I could not give him the "spur," not being pro- vided with those knightly appendages. I dug my heels into his flanks "right smart," however, and held on with bent toes and thigh bones tighter than the Old Man of the Sea clung to Sinbad's shoulders. Meantime, the poor beast, strong and gallant as he was, and struggling, as he did, most vigorously, was sinking deeper with each plunge, and I began to think of " dying in the last ditch," when, providentially, one giant effort lifted us to firmer ground. I felt the horse's forelegs planted, while he strained the veins and muscles of his neck, until they looked like ropes. I spoke to him in cheering tones, and with a noble leap he rose completely from the bog, and we were safe again. I glanced at our condition : mired from head to heels ; my jack-boots half drawn off; my breeches showing a mud-line nearly to the waist- band. I expected momentarily to hear a horselaugh from the Texan. But his voice was quick and earnest when it reached me. " Look yer !" he shouted. I looked as he pointed, and beheld an alligator, huge and ugly as any fabled dragon, slowly crawling through the mud, a rod or two beyond the spot where I had been " bogged." He was a monster, more than twelve feet long, with epidenvs like an iron-clad gun-boat. He stretched his monstrous flappers out, and dragged his horrible hind legs acd vast tail deliberately toward us. He evidently was hungry. His great upper or vertebral jaw was lifted from the lower one, showing such a che- veauz defrise of tusks as might have crumbled a small man easily. "Keep quiet!" said the lieutenant. "I reckon that yer alligator would ha' liked a lunch off your pony. But I'll fix his flint sure !" DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 219 He leveled a revolver, as he spoke, at the ponderous head which was advancing. His arm and hand appeared rigid as a bar of iron. Not less steady was the red In- dian pony which he bestrode, and which seemed to be eyeing the big reptile with a glance as cool as the lieute- nant's. Then a flash darted from the pistol, and I heard a bullet whizz beside me. It struck the alligator fairly in one eye, which jetted out a stream of blood. The saurian made a wild plunge forward, and began to lash the mud with long sweeps of his tail. " I think that bullet has got into his head," I remarked. "I reckon so," rejoined the Texan, with his usual em- phasis upon the little adverb. " I'll go another eye on him, this yer shot.'* He loaded again, and fired. A second crimson gush, straight from the other eye, attested the consummate ac- curacy of the Texan's aim. I quietly reflected that a runaway prisoner might stand little chance of escaping scatheless out of a stern-chase, with this frontier marks- man following him. Our big alligator soon was quiet. After a few more flounderings, and a shot that broke one flapper, he lay wallowing, with short, dying gasps, in the bloody mire. We rode on briskly, to rejoin our wagon. I mentally recalled my recent struggle in the mud, with such a neighbor as the twelve-foot alligator in striking distance. Never more am I ambitious of crossing the " Big Mary." 220 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE CHAPTER XXIII. ENTERING TEXAS. CROSSING the Mermonteau river, we encamped on a timber elevation, near Indian Bayou. Here we were overtaken by a Confederate officer, going home to Texas on furlough. He brought news regarding our regiment ; having been captured at Thibodeaux, and, as he said, paroled, by Major Morgans, of the " Ironsides." Another day's march brought us to the Calcasieu river, a broad, deep-flowing, and picturesquely-wooded stream, which we crossed, upon a horse-boat, at " Clendenning's Ferry." We then entered upon "Piney Woods," losing the line of telegraph-posts, which had marked our prairie high- way, but finding a shaded and sylvan road for miles along the river banks. The Calcasieu is navigable for small steamers, one of which we saw upon its waters. Twelve miles below the ferry which we crossed, is another, at St. Charles Lake. At that point several steamers and small sailing-craft were captured by adventurous Federals, who penetrated the marshy river-mouth in launches. We encamped, this night, under pine-trees; after "Corporal X" had made prize of a mule, which he "lassoed," in true Mexican style. Musquitos here were legion, and I mentally thanked the fat wife of my servant George, whose good nature had provided me with a gauze shield against our ubiquitous torment. On Sabbath day July 26th, we found ourselves,- near DEPAETMENT OF THE GULP. 221 noon, at the "ranche" of an ex-postmaster, Mr. Escobas, who once kept a wilderness store, now closed and empty of goods. This intelligent Creole possessed a comfortable dwelling-house, with several slaves, and was notably "secesh" in his proclivities. But I availed myself of his permission to boil some "Lincoln coffee," which our provident Lieut. Humble had purchased from the thrifty surgeon of his regiment, before leaving Franklin. An ancient negress, at the kitchen-outhouse, prepared a deli- cious beverage for us, in her French " biggin ;" furnishing milk and sugar, ad libitum, and imparting her confidential prayers to us that "Massa Linkum" might sometime " clar' out" the rebels "round yer." Poor old soul! with sixty winters of slavery on her back, she endeavored to lighten their weight by the never-dying hope of en- franchisement. Leaving West-Fork Post-office, as it was called, we rode a mile or two, halted for a chat with "old man Lyons," a Baptist, who dwelt with his family in the next ranch, and thereafter sought out a "camping ground," under the giant-pine-trees. Having enjoyed a good dinner that day, I made my supper on some dried, or "tassoed," beef, which Mr. Ex-Po&tmaster Escobas had presented to me. We were on the road, next morning, before sunrise. Passing a Baptist church, secluded in the forest like a hermitage; halting at a roadside "tavern," noisy with Confederate travelers ; and getting sight of a pine-woods school-house of rough logs, full of frightened urchins; we reached, about meridian, a small rebel camp, and shortly afterwards debouched from the " Piney Woods," and found ourselves at Niblett's Bluff. Hardly were we fairly disposed, for rest and refresh- ment, in an old camp-ground, where Confederates had 222 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE left traces of their presence, by brush shelters, and in a big tree, where they had " hung a nigger," than we were welcomed by a sudden thunder-storm, which, "fierce and fast, in ponderous rain, shot down, a sheeted flood." I had built a shed, with some pine-boards, and attempted to screen myself by crawling under it, upon my rubber- blanket. But the shower was too much for pine eaves ; and I was glad to follow the rest of our party, who had retreated toward the river-bank, and taken refuge in a dilapidated shanty once used as a " guard-house." Lieut. Duncan had hoped to reach Niblett's Bluff in time for embarkation on a steamer, which, it was under- stood, left twice or thrice a week for Beaumont, to con- nect with cars that ran to Houston City. But there was no boat visible when we arrived, and none to leave for forty-eight hours, or more. We proceeded, therefore, to make ourselves as comfortable as possible, under the circumstances. Niblett's Bluff is a muddy, barren, disconsolate village, of a dozen straggling huts and a steamboat landing. It is on a bank of the Sabine river, in Louisiana, and has served as a sort of point cPappui for Texan expeditions toward the Mississippi. Outside of our guard-house shelter, was a platform, where bales of cotton and hogs- heads of sugar were " dumped," awaiting transportation ; and both guards and prisoners were soon as busy as bees collecting sweets from the saccharine deposits. With a broken cask of the "best clarified" at their door, one could hardly blame our Yankee boys for " foraging on the enemy." Morning, at Niblett's Bluff, was inaugurated by a good breakfast at the "tavern," at the cost of $1.50 in Con- federate paper. The landlady was a " host" in herself, and consented to let her sable laundress wash clothes for DEPARTMENT OP THE GULP. 223 some of us, at the rate of $1,00 per dozen. "Yer kin pay that ar' price jest as well as yer kin pay a dollar a glass for whiskey!" said this reasonable female, and I agreed with her. I was shocked to see, in an ante-room of the tavern, a young yellow girl extended on the filthy floor, sick with fever, and apparently dying. Scarcely sixteen years old, this unfortunate child had been married to our major's servant Albert, while they were with me, at Tigerville. She had left her mistress, Madame Turner, of Terrebonne, to follow the fortunes of a northern hus- band. But Albert, accompanying his master to La- fourche, could not protect his bride ; and she became the prey of some Texan speculator, who had brought her to Niblett's Bluff. Recognizing the poor girl, I stooped, and called her by name. She turned her wandering eyes toward the voice, and appeared to know me, but re- lapsed immediately into painful apathy. I never saw her afterwards. About dusk, that evening, the steamer Clotilda arrived from Beaumont, and we were ordered aboard of her. Spreading our blankets on the deck, we slept comforta- bly, and, at five o'clock, A. M., the following morning, found ourselves descending the Sabine. Toward even- ing, we reached the Sabine Lake, and came in sight of the "Pass," that scene of more than one disaster to our Federal forces. While threading the bay-channel, we grounded several times ; and two negroes were con- stantly occupied in taking soundings. " Three and a quarter scant!" and "five feet large!" chanted mo- mentarily by our dusky pilots, attested the shallowness of this intricate passage. Had our steamer drawn more than three feet, she must have struck fast in many places. At twilight we reached Beaumont, a small, scattered 224 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE village, the terminus of a worn-out track called the New Orleans and Texas Railroad. Here we encamped under trees; and, after an excellent supper at the "hotel," for which I disbursed $1.50 (Confederate), I slept soundly, as usual, and awoke refreshed. Rejoicing, moreover, in the good fortune of another substantial tavern-meal, I felt prepared for sumptuous railway travelling; but my expectations were soon mode- rated in considering the choice offered us by the surly conductor either to ride in a negro-car, already half filled with blacks of questionable purity and unquestiona- ble odor, or to climb the car-roofs, and take our chance of holding fast thereon. Good air, and a prospect of " seeing the country" carried the day, of course ; so we mounted the car-roofs, where we found, much to our satisfaction, that some freight, in the shape of several covered cabrio- lets and gigs, had preceded us. I lost no time in bestowing myself on the cushioned seat of one of the^e vehicles, and, being nicely sheltered by its silk-lined top, came quietly to the conclusion that this was an improved mode of outside transportation. At Beaumont, there was a general dispersion of our guards; all receiving short furloughs, which they were to improve by making hasty visits to their homes. In parting from some of these kindly foes, I gave them a few tokens of remembrance ; to Handkomer my pocket- compass; for this quiet but sterling young man had acted as my " orderly" more than my guard, on the march. Indeed, I acknowledged good offices at the hands of all ; many an early cup of coffee tendered to me, and many a cheering word or entertaining "yarn," that whiled the tedium of the road. Man is man, the world over; and these Texans, doubtless, would have proved loyal Union men, had their homes been north instead of south of our DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 225 Potomac lines. Even Lieut. Duncan, who, like officers generally, displayed more rebel animus than the privates do, was more mistaken, as I conceived, than criminal; but the glamour of state pride and class arrogance prevented his intelligence from comprehending his error. I left him the bugle-frontlet of my cap, as a trifling mark of my appreciation of his courtesy toward all of us ; and he seemed gratified, like a child, with the gift ; remarking that it was the first present he had ever received in his life. Forty miles of slow steaming brought us to Liberty, a small town on the railroad. Here we saw the last of our guards " John Weed" starting off over the prairie, toward his " ranch" in the " timber." Lieut. Duncan was to accompany us to Houston. Another stage of travel brought us to the San Jacinto; where we discovered that a section of the railroad bridge had been burned, by accident, on the previous night, and was impassible. Nothing could be done but cross the passengers on foot, or by boats, leaving cars and baggage to await repairs, which were progressing. The majority of "first-class" Texans and their retinues went down the bank, toward a ferrying place, but the prisoners mostly, myself among the number, essayed to pass the obstacle. Never do I desire to attempt another such a feat. The bridge w.-is a half- mile in length, at least, without planking, and the cross- trees were so far apart as to oblige a wide step over each intervening chasm. Encumbered with my heavy knap- sack and bundle of blankets, weak in frame and giddy, and certain that a mis-step must precipitate me fifty feet into the rocky river-bed, I found that crossing of the Texan Rubicon almost as perilous as Santa Anna proved it. It cost me as much " balancing" as did my memor- able passage over cypress-cones in the swamp of Bayou 226 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Tiger; but, at length, it was happily over, and I threw myself exhausted and grateful on the other bank of terra firma. Near this bridge is the old battle-ground, where Sam Houston and his little army defeated their Mexican invaders, capturing that wooden-legged hero who had led them across the entire breadth of Texas, from the Rio Grande, to get himself taken prisoner by the fugitives whom he was chasing. The "league of land," on which Houston encamped, was owned by an Irish virago, who, deeming her soil trespassed on, sent a peremptory order to the general, to "move off;" which, it is said, "Old San Ja- cinto" declined to do, till he had whipped the Mexicans. Poor Sam! I shall learn soon whether he is really, as we have heard, a rebel, like the rest of these crazy southern leaders. I cherish my own doubts still; and would have almost guaranteed his loyalty at the begin- ning of Secession. Little, indeed, did 1 fancy, on re- ceiving a last friendly letter from him, just before the war, that I should so soon look upon the field of San Jacinto, and under such circumstances as the present were. "If ever you come to Texas," wrote the old hero to me -"you will always find my latch-string out!" But as a prisoner-of-war, I must be greeted by another kind of latch, with the strmg quite out of my reach, I apprehend. Leaving our baggage with the impeded train, and making "squatters" of ourselves on flat cars, drawn by another locomotive, we accomplished the remainder of our jour- ney twenty miles before sunset. Arrived at Houston, we were detained at the railroad depot long enough to attract the notice of a violent old woman, who denounced us unsparingly. " Come here, you little dears !" cried this sad termagant ; addressing not us, but a number of little children who were gazing timidly ; " come, and DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 227 8sxs the murderers of your fathers and brothers ! . . . . O ! if i only had the hanging of ye ! .... Don't get too nigh the sarpints, children! They'll p'ison ye all! Come away ! they'll be hung sartain ! ! the Yankee murder- ers!" And, with her rheumy eyes revolving, and her yellow fangs snapping, the wretched beldame backed away, with the children, while we shouldered our baggage and followed Lieut. Duncan across a bayou-bridge, and up the main street of Houston, till we reached a block of buildings in which was located the provost-marshal's office. Here we were left standing on the walk, while our custodian reported his prisoners; and here we were speedily surrounded by a crowd of inquisitive Texans. A bluff, off-hand sort of man addressed me at once, asking about our capture, and informing us that he was Capt. Conner, of the Texan navy, who had taken a noted share in the re-capture of Galveston from our troops some six months previously. The bold captain was anxious to show hospitality, and proposed to treat our party to refreshments at the hotel opposite ; an offer which we should all have been willing to accept; but when per- mission was asked of Lieut. Duncan, who rejoined us with a deputy-provost-marshal, at this juncture, we were told that he had no longer disposition of us. So, with suppressed anathemas against the new jack-in-office, who gruffly ordered us "forward!" we bade "good-night" to Captain Conner, and shook hands, in parting, with our pleasant Texan lieutenant. That night, for the first time, I felt the consciousness of jail-incarceration. We were all thrust together into a ground-room of the stone court-house, its massy door locked upon us, while, in dingy gloom, we endeavored to dispose our blankets on- the rough floor. We brushed its thick dirt aside, as well as we could, bought a few loaves 228 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE of bread from the guard, at four bits apiece, and, wasfr- ing .them down with water, accommodated ourselves to re- pose. Next morning I was awakened by the earliest sunbeams striking through a grated casement. Break- fast, of bread, meat, and rye coffee, was brought by our guards, and we were gratified with the assurance of being speedily sent to a camp of prisoners in the interior. The court-house at Houston was unfinished, but sub- stantially built and having fine interiors ; a fact I learned, from being permitted to use pen and paper for a few mo- ments in the supreme court-room, a handsome and spa- cious hall, filled with cushioned seats. About nine o'clock, A. M., we were marched from this citadel, to a depot of the " Houston and Navasota Railroad," where we were kept waiting in the street, under a hot morning sun, for an hour or two. It appeared, at first, as if we were to undergo hard usage in our day's travel; a filthy cattle-box being pointed out as the only unoccupied means of transportation. But, fortunately for us, the conductor was a gentleman, and we heard his clear voice soon ordering up an " extra car for the Federal prison- ers." An extra car, accordingly, was furnished us ; for which we were grateful to a considerate Northern man, and a former lieutenant-governor of the " Old Bay State" herself; now transferred into an official of this Texas rail- way, but, 1 doubt not, with many a yearning in his soul toward the soil of loyal New England. Throughout that day's journey, as we rode in comfortable seats, and looked out, unmolested, upon the Texan prairies, we exchanged many pleasant words with our genial conductor, H. W. Benchley, of Massachusetts. In the afternoon, after stoppages at several roadside stations, we reached "Camp Groce," our destination; having left at Houston one of our number, the alleged I DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 229 deserter, Emerson. Several of the citizen-prisoners had been previously left, upon the Teche ; and our party, on arriving at " Camp Groce," consisted of Col. Nott and myself, Captain Van Tine, Lieutenants Sherman, Hum- ble, Bassett and Wilson, six citizens, Holiday, Parse, Haley, Knowlton, Clark and Stratton, and the wife of the latter. At Camp Groce,! unexpectedly met old acquaintances, in Lieutenants Hayes, Dunn, and Curtiss, officers of the 175th Regiment of New York Infantry, who had been fellow-passengers on our transport from Fortress Monroe to New Orleans. Lieut. Hayes busied himself at once with the rites of hospitality, providing me with a bunk, and a seat at his mess-table. The other new-comers were likewise soon comfortably cared for, and we speedily found ourselves " at home" in the prison-barracks. It was Saturday afternoon ; the air was pleasantly tem- pered ; there were numberless questions to be asked and answered ; and, after refreshing ourselves with an ample meal, we sat on a bench, outside, and passed a couple of hours in retailing " later news." Thereafter, as if to recall us to the present fact of captivity, we were called upon to accompany a sad procession of the prisoners, es- corting to its grave the body of a lately-departed sailor. We were introduced, that evening, to many who were to be henceforth our prison-comrades ; and who had already passed weary months in various guard-houses and prisons. Here were officers of the Harriet Lane, captured in Galveston harbor, on the first day of the year, and of the Massachusetts Forty-Second Infantry, their partners in misfortune. Here, too, were officers and sailors of the Morning Light, blockading ship, taken by rebels at Sabine Pass, in January. A half-year of " dur- ance vile 1 ' had rendered these brave men accustomed, 230 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE though hardly reconciled, to their exile from home and service. Their eagerness to learn the prospects of " ex- change," gave us a foreshadowing of prison-anxieties that had not yet definitely weighed upon us. Col. Burrell, of the Massachusetts regiment, was ex- pected daily to arrive from Huntsville, where, until lately, most of these Camp Groce prisoners had -been confined, in the State Penitentiary. The Colonel, who had remained behind under an attack of fever, was now con- valescent, and would probably join us during the next week. As the story of his capture involves that of a majority of our Camp Groce officers, 1 will devote the ensuing chapter to it. DEPAIiTMENT OF THE GULF. 231 CHAPTER XXIV. THE GALVESTON SURRENDER. IN reviewing the "index expur gator ius" of historical chapters relating tp South-western operations during 1863, that mysterious episode which inaugurated the year the surrender of Galveston must not be for- gotten. Like other events transpiring after the recall of General Butler from New Orleans, our loss of this key city of the Gulf was glossed over with such official nonchalance as to completely hoodwink people into a be- lief that it was one of the inevitable casualties of warfare. Many of my fellow prisoners, however, involved in the catastrophe of this Galveston drama, are still living to relate, as they did to me, the real facts pertaining to it. On Christmas day, Col. I. S. Burrell. with three com- panies of the Massachusetts Forty-second Infantry, finds himself landed on the wharf at Galveston. Commodore Renshaw, commanding the harbor, assures our Bay State Colonel that himself and his small force are protected by gun-boats, and he requests him to quarter his men in a large two-storied warehouse, under cover of protecting fire, in case the enemy should attack. What is this enemy ? Let us go back.* Three months before, an expedition had left New Or- leans, the flagship Westfield in advance, with Captain Renshaw in command; the Clifton, Sachem, Harriet Lane, Owasco, and some others following. Arriving at the rebel port of Galveston, the town was summoned to 232 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE surrender. No answer being returned, beyond a single gun, our fleet ranged broadside-to, before the city front. A flag of truce arose ; a rebel boat appeared, and boarded Captain Renshaw's ship ; and, twenty minutes afterwards, our sailors heard that their commodore had given the town authorities four days of grace. All that day, and during following ones, Galveston was alive with business. Steam-whistles shrieked, wagons rumbled, cars rattled over the long bridge, and steam and sailing craft plied ceaselessly upon the bay. Meantime Confederate flags were flying gaily.. Truce having expired, the rebel col- ors disappeared, and Commodore Renshaw landed on Galveston Inland. The town had been deserted; every article of value carried off, comprising guns and steam- engines and public stores whatever could be serviceable to treason. With pompous ceremony, then, our Commo- dore hoisted the Stars and Stripes upon the Custom House, and hauled them down some thirty minutes after- wards. A few poor Union men, who remained in the city, gave three cheers, and so Galveston fell into our hands, after its rebel population had been suffered to strip everything of value from wharves and houses. Here, now, this island city was our own. Its bay, and sandy shore, and web-work of lagoons, that interpenetrate the coast, on either side, to the mouths of many Texan rivers, required but fortifications to become a point d'appui for inland operations. Where bold Lafitte once built a stronghold, darting out through covert channels from his island ambuscade, it might be thought our well- appointed fleet could easily make a nucleus for future victories. Houston City and the thriving Brazos Valley were in radii of fifty miles, and all the coastwise towns and settlements seemed within our grasp. But Commodore Renshaw, after capturing the island, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 233 having seized a wooden gun, propria marte, exhibited his genius furthermore by mounting it on the Westfield, and then sailed in pursuit of further glory to the bay of Matagorda. Anchoring off Indianola he ran aground ; coasting southwardly, and coasting back again, he occu- pied ten days or more in "armed reconnoissance," mean- time exploiting on sand-bars three or four times diur- nally, so that a jest ran round his fleet that "Renshaw kept the Clifton as a tug to drag the Westfield off her soundings." So the month passed, and its last day saw the flagship fire some four or five score shells at a small mud fort near Lavacca, and, in doing this, burst her cost- liest rifle-gun. Thus ended Renshaw's naval expedition from Galveston. The residue of hostile execution on that Texan coast was summed up daily, in gun-boat logs, by entries such as "lying on and off the bar at Galveston." No guns were landed for shore batteries; no earthworks thrown up; not a shot fired at the enemy's fortified camp, which, filled with active rebels, strengthening its defences, seemed to laugh at us beneath its still defiant flag. A railroad bridge two miles in length connected Galveston with the main land, and afforded ingress from the rebel rendezvous continually. Hordes of enemies were swarm- ing in from interior Texas. Not a gun was trained upon the railroad bridge ; not a section of its timbers shot away. The town was left to be a daily resort of our plotting enemies, while boats plied every hour between the shore and fleet, and rebel spies, disguised as wherry- men and farmers, were constantly supplying fish and fruit in exchange for Yankee greenbacks, and collecting scraps of information to subserve Confederate purposes. On the flagship Westfield all was gay and festive. Rebel officers came off to dine and wine at Captain Renshaw's 234 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE invitation. Convenient flags of truce were ready to shel- ter everything, whether it were the passage of rebel soldiers, with arms and ammunition, to their camp at Virginia Point, or the convoy of rebel officers to Captain Kenshaw's cabin, for a jolly carouse at his mess table. So the year waned, till a transport, with the Massachu- setts troops, arrived on Christmas Eve, and Col. Burrell next day landed at the long wharf and took quarters in a wooden storehouse. Here, then, Galveston City was occupied at last. Since October 3d three months of dolce far niente a fleet of serviceable war vessels had gambolled " on and off the bar," while rebel riflemen and cannoniers were making disposition of their forces in full view and unmolested. All this time a messenger-boat could bear dispatches twice a week between the island and New Orleans ; but not till Christmas day does a small force of scarcely a dozen score infantry appear upon the wharf at Galveston. More troops are promised; Col. Burrell's other companies will shortly follow their commander and his little van- guard. Thus is this " nine months'" force doled out by piecemeal to possess Galveston. And how possess it? Shut up in a warehouse on the wharf; four gun-boats lying near ; in nightly expectation of surprise. Three companies of raw troops, staunch and brave, but inexperienced, are kept continually on duty ; every day marched through the city, to be drilled and exercised, their picket lines thrown out to distant squares by day, and drawn around the wharves at night; some cautious reconnoitering indulged in, but to small account, because no adequate force can be detached beyond the narrow city limits. All the week, reports come in, of rebel preparations for attack. Three companies alternate in guard duty, day by day. Mounted scouts of the enemy DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 235 are, meanwhile, scouring the inland shores. Cavalry squads hover in view of the town. The last day of 1862 finds all the Massachusetts men on guard, in three reliefs. These poor fellows, harrassed and worn, are hoping for the arrival of their comrades, to reinforce the post. Cap- tain Wainwright, of the Harriet Lane, comes ashore, and with Colonel Burrell looks out, through field-glass, from a cupola, upon the rebel camp five miles away. "I will send a boat up. from the Lane to-morrow, and shell those gentlemen!" remarks the naval captain. Night sets in, and Captain Proctor, with Lieutenant Newcomb and some sixteen men, dividing, make an expedition through the city streets, to look for rebel cavalry that are skulking thereabout. They meet with frightened Union people, who assure them that the town is to be fired that night. The mayor of Galveston asks permission to remove his family out of danger. The moon now rises on the scene, clear and resplendent. Thus matters are progressing in the town on New Year's Eve. The fleet is quiet at anchor. The Clifton lies above Galveston wharves ; the Sachem, and a little schooner called the Corytheus, just below ; the Sachem undergoing repairs. The Harriet Lane swings close to shore, some two miles lower than the Clifton ; and tfye Owasco anchors by a coal -barge, nearly midway. Cap- tain Renshaw, in his flagship, occupies a sand-bar near the point called Pelican's Spit. Our flagship is aground, as usual. The moon rides high in midnight heavens, her beams flashing on that quiet bay, on the fleet at anchor, on our soldiers watchful upon the wharf, on the rebels gathering at Virginia Point, and stealthily advancing from all other points. There are sharp eyes on the gunboats as well as on land; and at two o'clock a Clifton look-out passes the 236 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE word that a couple of rebel steamers are approaching the channel roads above. Their dark hulls and smoke can be seen distinctly in the moonlight. The Clifton signals, "The enemy afloat!" and presently is answered by a summons from the Westfield, to drop down to Pelican's Spit, and tow her from the bar. The Clifton's captain grumbles, as he well may. This channel, crooked as a ram's horn, is hard to navigate even by day ; and now the moon is sinking to her setting. But at three o'clock the Clifton warps a cable-tow alongside of our grounded flag-ship, and about the same time the moon dips, and rebel guns are heard, beginning their play upon Galveston city. Captain La\t asks leave to take his vessel back, which Eenshaw grants, but will not let his pilot go. So the Clifton gropes through darkness, trying to retrace her channel grounds a dozen times or less, and does not reach Fort Point, two miles below the city, till broad daylight. There she encounters a battery, which the rebels have erected during the night. She shells and drives them out of it in twenty minutes' time, and there- after steams up beyond the town-point, shelling as she passes. Colonel Burrell, meanwhile, when the moon goes down, begins to find things looking dark about his little camp. The gun -boat signals are suspicious, and he calls his Massachusetts officers together, for a council. The gun- boats Clifton and Owasco are three miles away, the Su- chern cannot help them much, and there is no other ves- sel, but the schooner Corytheus, nearer than the Harriet Lane, two miles above them Prudent Colonel Burrell gets his companies in readiness to make their own de fence as best they may, should danger threaten. Pre- sently, Lieutenant Newcomb brings report of a rebel battery erected at the market-house. The gun-boats DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 237 ought to be notified of this ; but no one can communicate with them. Suddenly, at half-past three o'clock, the pickets fire their guns, and fall back to our barricades. Those barricades of planks, some twenty inches wide, lying one upon another, had been opportunely piled breast- high, through Colonel Burrell's forethought. They stood his men in excellent stead on New Year's morning. Now began to ripen, very fast, the fruits of rebel plot- ting under guns of a Federal fleet and at the mess-tables of a Federal officer. Magruder's time had not been wasted during Renshaw's farce of occupying Galveston. His forces had been marched through the deserted city, night after night ; piloted across that railroad bridge so courteously left for 'their accommodation in the transit to Virginia Point. His heavy siege-pieces had been transported on that bridge to points which covered all the anchorage. His railroad ram, armed with an 8-inch Dahlgren gun, and mounted on a flat, was pushed across that bridge upon the rails, until it bore directly on the Harriet Lane. His cotton-bales, for breast-works, were conveyed by the same track. That railway bridge, which half-a-dozen Federal shells could have demolished at any hour, became a rebel highway toward the re-cap- ture of Galveston. When the moon went down, on New Year's morning, the scheme of politic Magruder sprang out to execution. While our fleet lay at anchor, its flag-ship hard and fast on a sand-bar ; while Burrell's handfull of infantry, with pickets compassing some two or three squares, were hud- dled in their quarters on a single barricaded wharf; the rebels had already, despite of all Yankee vigilance, suc- ceeded, under cover of night, in bringing down their heavy guns and field-pieces into the very city streets, as well as to commanding points above, below, and on a 238 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE water-base of two miles and a half. This was our " cap- ture'* of Galveston; which permitted rebel armies to col- lect under Federal guns, while their officers dined at flag- ship tables, and the bitter sneer was common among our sailors that " Magruder knows better than Renshaw the number of men and guns we have !" This was our " oc- cupation" of the Key City, which held, during Christmas week, a wharf four hundred feet in length, while all the streets, and squares, and wharves, behind, to the right and left, were undefended, and left to become, at last, a deadly ambuscade of rebel rifles and artillery. So, when the fight began, under grey obscurity of star- light, Magruder had six companies of dismounted dra- goons, under Pyron, lying in wait -with rifles, while a regiment of artillery with field-pieces took position on their flank at Fort Point. Further up, toward the city, and within its limits, other batteries were posted on the wharves. Six field-guns occupied the Centre Wharf; the railroad ram was placed upon the Upper Wharf; a bat- tery was planted right in front of the barricaded wharf that sheltered Burrell and his men. This battery was to cover an attempt to storm the barricade ; a project in- trusted to five hundred rebels, commanded by artillery Captain Cook. These dispositions had been made since sunset of the previous day ; so well concocted were the rebel plans, so actively the fellows worked, inspired by earnest treason. Af half-past three o'clock, the centre gun was fired, as a signal, by Magruder. Rebel pieces then began to blaze along the water front. A simultaneous shower of rifle- shots was poured upon the barricaded wharf and at the warehouse used as quarters for our infantry. Well was it for Colonel Burrell and his men that he had formed their line upon the wharf so promptly. Fire DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 239 was directed against the warehouse incessantly. The rebels believed that all our force was under cover of that building, and they riddled its walls and casements. When the fray was over, there^ could not be found a spot of two feet square which was not perforated with bullet holes. But the Bay State boys, under their gallant officers, were safe behind the barricade planks. After Lieut. Stowell had burned certain signals, as agreed upon with Captain Wainright, to indicate that rebels held the town, the colonel ordered all to lie down on the wharf. Our vessels now responded to the rebel fire. The gun-boat Sachem and the Harriet Lane delivered shot upon the town, but fired too high, their missiles crashing through the roofs of buildings. A tempest of balls and bullets now came dashing over the wharf, and presently the rebel storming party hove in sight, wading through water to assault our barricade. They carried scaling ladders, and advanced in dark masses ; their sharp-shooters deployed to the right and left. Colonel Burrell ordered bayonets to be fixed in preparation for a charge. His men stood up with pieces at a ready. They peered into the gloom, but could perceive only a waving shadow on the water. At that shadow fhey hurled a bright blaze, sending volley after volley from their muskets, fast as they might load and fire. The rebels could not stand that leaden hail, but broke for cover of the neighboring buildings. At this point of the conflict our enemies were repulsed everywhere. While Burrell drove them from before his barricade, the Clifton and Owasco had been silencing the lower batteries. Fort Point was evacuated, and the can- non on the different wharves were dragged off at a gallop under charge of General Scurry. Galveston become too hot for rebel quarters. 240 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Here it was that Leon Smith, "quartermaster-admiral," came steaming down the harbor with his brace of cotton- boats, the Neptune and Bayou City. Heading for the Harriet Lane, they ran into her on either side, and poured a murderous fire upon her decks. Four hundred rifles and three hundred double-barreled shot-guns swept the vessel's deck from stem to stern As Wainwright could not promptly cut his chains, he fought the ship at anchor like a hero. Such guns as might be brought to bear upon his foes did instant execution. The Neptune was quickly sunk, and the Lane's bows were turned upon the other boat, carrying away its larboard wheel-house by the shock. But overwhelming numbers, pouring un- broken sheets of musket flame upon the Federal vessel, from behind a cover of cotton bales, were not to be with- stood. Gunners fell at every piece on board the Lane. Bold Wainwright, foremost of her staunch defenders, sank beneath a rifle shot. His first lieutenant, Lea, was killed beside him. Then the rebels swarmed over their cotton-clad batteries, and our men, unable to make fur- ther head, surrendered. It was a crisis of the battle. At every other point the rebels had been beaten. Even here, with Wainwright dead, and his fine vessel taken, it needed but a dash of our remaining gun-boats to have saved the Harriet Lane and gained a victory. His Neptune sunk, his Bayou City grounded, Leon Smith was master of the Harriet Lane, but he was still at the mercy of her consorts. Had the Clifton then attacked him he must have been lost. The Owasco did indeed salute him with a passing broad- side, but beyond this, no attempt was made against the rebel commodore. It was not strange now that Magruder, foiled at every other point, withdrawing from the town front, and re- DEPARTMENT OP THE GULF. 241 treating under fire of our brave infantry, should hail the lucky stroke of Leon Smith as his salvation. Broad day- light now revealed the state of everything, and rebel strategy succeeded rebel ambuscades. White flags were run up on the Harriet Lane, and Smith dispatched two officers to Renshaw's stranded flag-ship, demanding" a surrender of the fleet, and giving three hours' time to treat upon the proposition. The boat conveying this in- sulting message visited our other gun-boats likewise ; and an interchange of visits, under flags of truce, consumed an hour or two ; while half the time a fire of sharp-shoot- ers was kept up on the barricaded wharf, which Burrell valiantly defended till he saw himself abandoned by the fleet, when he displayed a white flag also, and gave up resistance. So the battle of G-alveston was tricked away " won half by blunder, half by treachery ;" while that fool or knave, flag-officer Renshaw, fired not a single long-range gun, allowed not one of his eager men to volunteer on board another ship, and ended by capitulation as dis- graceful as it was entirely needless. The Clifton and Owasco, at a word from Renshaw's lips, might have cut out the Harriet Lane, with Smith and all his horse-ma- rines. Instead of being permitted to do this, our gun- boats, with their gallant crews, who muttered curses neither few nor choice, were ordered from the port, and, as a noble tar expressed it, in my hearing, " sneaked away with white rags flying." But the retributive hand of justice reached the wretched Renshaw ere his shame was fully consummated. He had given his men free access to the liquor-room, and then set fire to the Westfield, in- tending to escape in a boat which lay alongside, with Lieutenant Zimmerman and several sailors, ready to cast off. Whether the boat delayed till it could hail the 242 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Clifton as she passed, or whether it was kept to take the recreant commodore ashore, can never be known. But as our other vessels, in retreating, steamed just abreast of their late flag-ship, she blew up, and Renshaw perished with her. He was not permitted to survive the sequel of his cowardice or treason. Thus we lost Galveston thus we lost noble Wain- wright and the brave young Lea, whose rebel father was a major on Magruder's staff that day, and came on board the Harriet Lane in time to kiss his dying son. Thus Burrell and his officers were consigned to nineteen months' captivity in dungeons and corrals. And, above all, thus the entire Texan coast was lost, the rebel cause inspired and strengthened, and a rebel army or- ganized at once from crowds of volunteers. Thus old Tom Green, Sibley, Pyron, Scurry, Majors, Leon Smith, Magruder, Baylor, and a dozen other leaders, were en- abled to inflate the Texan mind with overweening pride of state and personal superiority. The gate of the Con- federacy was thus left open, as it had been during the war, for food and clothing, arms and men, to pour from Mexican borders, over Texan highways, and through Lou- isiana rivers, to the Mississippi banks, and thence upon our loyal frontiers. Weak and disastrous as our subse- quent campaigns against the Texans have turned out to be, their miserable results may be traced back to that unhappy New Year's day of 1863, when, in the language of a gun-boat officer, took place " the most disgraceful and cowardly action upon record." DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 243 CHAPTER XXV. SABINE PASS. OUR quarters at Camp Groce were upon the railroad line, removed about two hundred yards from the ro.ad. The "camp" consisted of four stacks of barracks looking from three sides into a rhomboidal area. Beyond these buildings, a tract of wild country, wood, swamp, and prairie, stretched for miles around. The barracks were built upon grounds a little higher than the railroad grade, and, behind the particular stack of sheds appropriated to prisoners, a slope, covered with shrubbery and stunted trees, conducted to the timber-belt which formed a boun- dary for our rear. Another line of barracks running nearly parallel to ours, at a distance of one hundred yards or more, was occupied by the guard, a company of sixty or eighty militiamen, under command of a fat officer known as Captain Buster. Two deep wells supplied the post with water, which the prisoners brought for their own use from one of them, over a space of from six to ten rods, according to the locality of their quarters in the bar- racks. One end, comprising less than a third of the barracks, was apportioned to the officers, and the remaining sheds, divided by three partitions, to enlisted men of army and navy. A large number of the sailors were men captured at Sabine Pass, on the 21st of January, who had, since then, shared the fortunes of their commander, Captain Dillingham, and the Federal officers previously taken at Galveston. 244 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Captain John Dillingham, in command of the sloop-of- war "Morning Light," had been ordered to Sabine Pass in November, 1862. He had then with him two schooners, the Rachel Seaman and Velocity, and an old steam- scow called the Dan. The latter, being unserviceable, was soon after sunk and abandoned. While cruising at the Sabine mouth, Capt. Dillingham received several parties of refugees, whom he subsequently sent to New Orleans on board the gun-boat Owasco; by which vessel he first obtained news of the re-capture of Galveston by the re- bels. About this time, he gained intelligence through Union men on shore, that an expedition was in prepara- tion, with the design of seizing his own ship, the "Morn- ing Light." On learning this, he at once dispatched the Velocity to Commodore Bell, his flag-officer, informing him of the fact, and asking for the assistance of a gun- boat. To this statement, a reply came from Com. Bell, directing the maintenance of a strict blockade at the Pass, and ordering the "Rachel Seaman" to Pensacola, for repairs. Complying with these instructions, Captain Dillingham remained at his post near the Sabine channels. In the meantime, the rebels under Magruder, flushed with the success of their attack on our vessels at Gal- veston, were making new dispositions for another exploit. Major Watkins, Assistant Adjutant General, was assigned to the command of " all the land and naval forces opera- ting on the Sabine River/' and proceeded to improvise materials for an expedition. Two river-boats, the Ben and the Bell, were converted into gun-boats, by providing two 12-pounders, with some grape shot, for the former, and an 8-inch Columbiad, bored as a 6-inch rifled piece, for the latter. Infantry, with rifles and shot-guns, were supplied to each of these terriffic war-vessels, and, thus equipped and manned, and panoplied with cotton-bales, DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 245 they steamed through Sabine Lake, and down toward the Pass, where Captain Dillingham lay quiescent, with his ship of one thousand tons, on a sea as calm and glassy as the breezeless air might slumber on. On the 20th of January, our Yankee captain descried his cotton-clad adversaries coming down the Lake, and not feeling inclined to await them, got under weigh and dropped out with the current. At daylight on the follow- ing morning, he found himself pursued. The Texan ar- gonauts, assured by their easy victory at Galveston, that Federal fleets were not "invincible armadas," bore down upon our "Morning Light" with a directness that mani- festly meant mischief. Captain Dillingham bewailed the calm. His ship could be mano3uvred only sluggishly, at best, while the steam-engines of the rebels enabled them to choose positions. The enemy opened with his rifled gun when about two miles and a half distant from our ship, which returned the fire with a broadside. The battle now began, and continued during an hour and a half, the rebel steamers gradually nearing our ves- sels. A rifled howitzer on the ship's poop deck exploded at the first discharge. The rebel craft, presenting their cotton-armored bows to Yankee missiles, offered but a narrow target, .whilst their pieces, though handled awk- wardly enough, were enabled to get a more effectual range as they approached. Our metal, though heavier, failed to keep them at a distance; and at length, arrived within one thousand yards, they poured a hail of musketry upon the decks of ship and schooner, which speedily cleared them of defenders. According to rebel accounts, the engagement was "concluded out of sight of land in the Gulf, and about twenty-eight miles southwest from Sabine Bar." The steamers ranged upon both sides to board our frigate ; and, thinking to destroy one, at least, Captain 246 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE Dillingham veered ship, and discharged a broadside, at musket-range, with no more execution than if it had struck the iron ribs of a monitor. The other rebel boat then rounded, and began a murderous fire ; when, deem- ing further resistance useless, Captain Dillingham ceased fighting, and surrendered. It was a gallant prize for the rebel cotton-boats ; though they were obliged subsequently to abandon and burn the ship, from inability to get her over the bar. The Morning Light had been formerly a clipper in the merchant ser- vice. She mounted, when captured, eight long thirty- twos, and a rifled Butler gun, and her consort, the schooner Velocity, carried two brass 12-pound howitzers, with boat and land carriages. About If stand of small arms, and 109 prisoners, were taken with the vessels. Such was the battle of Sabine Pass, in which Captain Dillingham lost ship and liberty. How much of his dis- aster is due to the neglect which left a wooden ship to be surprised, during a calm, by cotton-clad steam-boats, must remain, with other secrets, in possession of Commodore Bell and the Navy Department. The exploit, however, raised Texan pride and ambition to fever-heat, and the Confederate President at Richmond addressed a letter of laudation to General Magruder for his "noble enter- prises" against the Yankees; whereat the classic Ma- gruder made proclamation to the "army of Sabine," as- serting his belief that it was destined "to astonish still more their enemies and the world, by such evidences of skill and audacity, as shall make Texan a better word than Spartan." The "Morning Light" officers and men, were speedily transferred from the scene of their capture to a prison, at Houston, where our Federals, taken at Galveston, were still lingering. Eleven wounded, two killed, and twenty DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 247 slightly hurt, comprised the casualties of this Sabine fight, on this ourside ; while the rebels boasted that they lost not a single man. At Houston, the G-alveston prisoners had "not been rigorously treated. Our officers enjoyed parole and liberty to walk the streets. The Federal loss in battle at Galveston comprised seventeen killed and wounded of the infantry, and sixteen of our naval force. The earlier days of captivity were marked by sundry courtesies from citizens, and our Yankee officers "fared sumptuously" on roast-pig, turkey, and occasional invitations to outside dinners. In a short time, however, the lines were drawn more tightly, and a consolatary leader, in the Houston daily journal, suggested the amiable experiment of hang- ing Yankee prisoners. Houston, at that happy epoch, was a jubilant city. Magruder had made & triumphal entry, and been honored with a public reception ; on which extraordinary occasion a sword was presented to the hero, and a procession moved, consisting of about twenty-five horse-marines, on ponies, and seventy-five rangers, carrying shot-guns in every position. Pending this ceremony, our Federals were ordered into close confinement, which was soon shared by their newly-captured comrades from Sabine Pass. About this time, they received a definite account of the blowing up of the Westfield and asserted death of Commodore Kenshaw. Kumors likewise reached them that our Federal troops in Arkansas had captured sev- eral thousand Texans at Arkansas Post, and thai our army had suffered defeat at Murfreesboro, with a loss of 10,000 captured and a like number killed and wounded. About the close of January, Sailing-Master W. F. Mon- roe, of the "Harriet Lane," who had been shot in the face, after surrender, at Galveston, died, from lack of 248 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE proper care and treatment. He was buried with military honors ; eight officers being permitted to attend the fu- neral, and a rebel escort of sixteen firing a volley over his grave. At Houston, our officers were visited by a noted rebel, Captain Chubb, of Galveston, who was recognized by a Massachusetts captain as a man who broke jail at East Cambridge, in 1837. About this time, the Federals were notified of Jeff. Davis's proclamation against Butler's officers, and it was intimated that several gentlemen would probably be handed over to the civil power for trial and punishment. But, though these and other unrefreshing scraps of news were doled out to them, our officers en- joyed occasional gulps of air and smacks of liberty (under guard) in tours of exercise and ball-sport, which were vouchsafed them. Most of the Forty-Second Massachusetts regiment's rank and file received parole, and were forwarded soon to 13aton Rouge Their officers, however, with many sailors, remained in prison at Houston, till the last of April. During their sojourn, General Houston visited the city, and achieved a speech to the assembled popu- lace; and an Indian delegation from the Plains, all plumed and war-painted, held powows in the public square. At last a long-expected order came to march our Yankees to the Penitentiary at Huntsville ; and, after being relieved of their watches, money, and such valuables, they were transferred on the Navasota Railroad, to their new and narrow State Prison quarters. Our Federal officers protested ; dispatching Dr. Cum- mings, of the " Forty-Second," (who, being a surgeon, enjoyed parole,) to General Scurry, praying redress- Meantime, for a day or two, they learned to relish cold corn-bread and water. But the Penitentiary Superin- DEPARTMENT OF THE GULP. 249 tendent was an old Sam Houston man. and, moreover, a gentleman. He ordered hot meals to be prepared for our officers in his own house, gave them the privilege of ex- ercise in the yard from eight o'clock A. M., to noon, and from one to five P. M. ; and otherwise sought to lighten their annoyances. In this Penitentiary 168 convicts were confined at labor. The first Sabbath saw bur prisoners marched to chapel at eight o'clock, A. M., to attend service, with these convicts. On week-days the latter were called to work at five o'clock A. M., and relieved at six, in the evening. The cells of this State-prison were not inviting dormi- tories, being overrun with cockroaches, and overbrooded by musquitos Their dimensions comprised eight feet by five. The yard in which our prisoners were allowed to pass the day, was two hundred feet square. Various local entertainments assisted the time to pass. On one day, a convict would be placed in the stocks ; another morning ushered in some negro, accused of at- tempting to kill his owner, while the latter was flogging him. Once, General Houston came (he resided near the Penitentiary) and talked " secesh" to our officers. But Col. Caruthers, the Superintendent, did not keep our Federals in convict quarters very long. He fitted up a large upper room, eighteen by twenty-five feet in floor area, with cots and mattresses, and gave our officers pos- session of it. About the close of May, after encountering centipedes in their quarters, hearing news of General Hooker's de- feat, with a loss of 30,000 Federals, and receiving a part- ing visit from General Houston, who was about going, for his health, to Sour Lake ; a message arrived from Gov- ernor Lubbock, the Texan executive, expressing fears that the presence of our Yankees at Huntsville might 250 TWENTY MONTHS IN THE attract a Federal expedition againt that important place. The brave Governor said the Yankees must be removed. The manufacture of 5,000 yards of cotton-cloth per diem, with sundry other items of Texan fabrication by Peni- tentiary machinery, must not be jeopardized through Yankee Jonahs. So, presently it transpired toward the end of June, that our prisoners were led out of Hunts ville prison, and thence deported to Camp Groce, on the Navasota Railroad. More rumors, through rebel sources, accompanied their march ; that Grant's army had been wofully routed in front of Vicksburg ; that Banks had been driven from Port Hudson, with a loss of 7,000 men and three gun-boats ; and that " exchange of prison- ers" was totally stopped for the future. DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF. 251 CHAPTER XXVI. CAMP GROCE. SHORTLY after my arrival in Texas, I learned of the death of General Houston. He had passed from the scene of his triumphs and trials his labors and strifes. It is yet a mooted point whether the old hero ever com- mitted himself fully to the rebel cause. Certain it is, the ultra Secessionists never trusted him, while men