At two in the morning, I was ordered to get the regiment
under arms and into line. It was now Sunday morning, 15th. We expected we were
going straight to the front. The cannonading was still going on, but was on the
river, down nearer to us. Colonel Chapin came to me and told me that we had
been repulsed with great loss. He ordered me to take the advance, to clear the
road back, with two regiments of infantry and a section of artillery. They were
afraid that our passage back would be disputed at the bridge across the Bayou
Montesino, by the enemy's coming down on the Clinton Road, to cut us off.
I was told to make for that bridge as fast as possible, and
hold it.
Just after we started, I saw an aide of General Emory's, who
told me that we hadn't “got a gunboat left, and the army was all cut to
pieces.” I knew this was impossible, for we should have been ordered to the
front if there had been any fighting of the land force.
At this time a tremendous report came from the river, a
quarter of a mile on our right, and several shells seemed to burst directly
over our heads. It was the Mississippi when she blew up, a magnificent
sight. Everything seemed to give indication of a panic. Teamsters were
frightened, and were rushing and crowding with their teams, blocking up the
road.
I sent ahead and ordered the wagon train to be stopped, as
there were gaps of a mile in some places, which I had to close up. At last I
got the troops and artillery to the front. The Forty-eighth had been ordered to
start ahead, and they were in such a hurry that I, not overtaking them, sent
Ben ahead to stop them till we came up. When we got to the Bayou we found it
all clear, the two bridges still there. The plank bridge needed some repair,
and I left the Major with two companies to put it in order and make it safe for
the teams. I sent one company across on to the Clinton Road to guard against
any attack of cavalry on our flank. After the wagon train was well up, I kept
on, intending to feel the way into Baton Rouge. After we had marched a mile or
two, an order came from Banks to halt until further orders. I waited two hours,
and then had orders to go on to Baton Rouge and go into camp. Meantime I heard
from an aide-de-camp that, as I supposed, the report of a repulse was false.
That two of our gunboats had succeeded in passing the fort. The Mississippi had
got aground, been set on fire, floated down, and blown up. We had got within a
few rods of our old camp, the men were tired, having been marching since three
A. M., when an order came to me to turn round and march back to the Bayou
again.
This was rather discouraging, but there was no help for it.
I let the men rest an hour, the artillery feed their horses, etc. We got back
to the Bayou about hall past four. We met Banks and his staff going into Baton
Rouge as we were coming out. Charley Sargent stopped and told me that they had
done what they intended to; get the gunboats by. Banks had sent despatches by
Farragut to Grant at Vicksburg. The plan had been to draw the enemy out to
fight us at Port Hudson, but he had refused offer. I know however that Banks
was frightened in the morning, for I saw the order from him himself, ordering
the trains to the rear, and back to Baton Rouge as soon as possible. I felt
safe from the first, for Banks has made so many good retreats that he must
understand it pretty well. We went into camp on the south side of the Bayou, in
a large cornfield. I didn't get off my horse till after five; in the saddle
nearly fourteen hours the second day. It began to rain now, and the field was
soon two or three inches deep with water and mud. I had just got off my horse
when I received an order, saying that the Forty-ninth and Fiftieth
Massachusetts regiments would be in readiness to march to-night or to-morrow
morning on an important expedition, under command of Colonel Bartlett. I was to
report immediately to Banks at Baton Rouge, for instructions. I knew that it
was absolutely impossible for the men to march in the condition they were, all
used up; no chance for sleep in the night on account of the rain, etc.
I also thought it was rather “rubbing it in,” to make me ride
all the way back to Baton Rouge in the rain, for instructions, after I had been
on the go since three that morning, and it was by this time dark, and thence
back here again, and by the time I got here, start off on this new tramp.
So I sent Ben over to Augur's Headquarters, from whence the
order came, to explain that my regiment had just got in, had been marching all
day, having been to Baton Bouge and back. He said certainly they need not go,
that he “did not know they had been marching.” He “had designated Colonel
Bartlett to go in command of the expedition as a compliment,” etc. This of
course was all very pleasant, and if it had been at any other time I should
have liked nothing better. But the regiment was too much exhausted, and I was
tired, to say the least. I got some rails to keep us out of the water, which
was two or three inches deep in the tent, and slept on these, like a log, till
reveille.
I could hardly realize it when some one mentioned that it
was Sunday. So different from the quiet day a week before.
SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William
Francis Bartlett, p. 75-8
