Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, April 15, 1863

I have allowed a huge gap to occur in this Diary, for which I can offer a poor excuse. I have been sick with head-ache for about three weeks, until a few days ago, when it left me, and simultaneously with its departure disappeared also the feeling of lassitude with which I have been almost prostrated; but I again feel my usual flow of spirits and a desire to place on record the doings of the Forty-first. Since the bombardment of this place on the night of the 14th of March, our daily life has been somewhat interesting, compared with what it was before. The Yankee vessels remained below the point a week or ten days, occasionally throwing a shell into our midst, and finally disappeared entirely; but soon after our old acquaintance, the "Essex," hove in sight, evidently with the intention of paying us a protracted visit. During the last month, our regiment has been worked every day at the rate of two hundred and fifty men to the detail, and, when not on fatigue duty, we have drilled constantly. Our rations have improved greatly in quality, but not in quantity. We now draw bacon, meal, rice, sugar, molasses and peas, and fish are also very plentiful, but dear. For a while, after the poor Texas beef gave out, we drew spoilt pork, but it was preferable.

During the intervals between the appearance of the Yankee vessels, we have managed to pass off the time very well. The weather has been beautiful, and our minds have been kept about as busy as our hands, between hope and expectation—hope that we may get marching orders, while we have been anxiously expecting the re-appearance of the Yankee fleet. As yet no marching orders have come for us, but the gunboats have made their appearance above and below. The first intimation we had of their coming was from an order for the regiment to take position on the river bank, to act as sharpshooters during the engagement. The fleet above, after a stay of a few days, during which they sent up rockets and fired signal guns to the lower fleet, steamed up the river. After being gone over a week, they re-appeared a few days since. The situation now is: we are menaced above by three formidable vessels, while the fleet below is in plain view and very busy. The probability is that an attack may be made at any hour. We are ready for them.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 165-6

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, February 15, 1863

Another week has passed over without any excitement, save what is occasioned by the preparations for the attack on the Indianola, and what is afforded by the weekly visit of the Federal gunboat Essex. This boat is said to be the best in their fleet below this point. She wastes considerable ammunition in the woods, firing at our pickets. On Thursday heavy cannonading was heard above, in which the Indianola is supposed to have a hand. The preparations for the expedition are nearly complete, and the Dr. Beatty, our flagship, will be ready to start in a day or two. The Forty-first Tennessee furnished twenty-five volunteers for the expedition, and of that number Captain Feeney's company furnished twelve good and true men, excepting the writer, who goes as assistant ship's carpenter, provided his detail is approved, according to the promise of Colonel Brend, who commands the "Musquitto Fleet."

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 23

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 12, 1864

Cloudy——rained in the afternoon.

This is the anniversary of the first gun of the war, fired at Fort Sumter.

It is still said and believed that Gen. Lee will take the initiative, and attack Grant. The following shows that we have had another success:

MobiLE, April 11th, 1864.

TO GEN. S. COOPER, A. & H. GENERAL.

The following report was received at Baton Rouge, on the 3d inst., from the Surgeon-General of Banks's army: “We met the enemy near Shreveport. Union force repulsed with great loss. How many can you accommodate in hospitals at Baton Rouge 7 Steamer Essex, or Benton, destroyed by torpedoes in Red River, and a transport captured by Confederates.”

Farragut reported preparing to attack Mobile. Six monitors coming to him. The garrisons of New Orleans and Baton Rouge were very much reduced for the purpose of increasing Banks's forces.

D. H. MAURY, Major-General Commanding.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 185-6

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, February 6, 1862

It is raining this morning; has been all night. There may be poetry in war, but there is no poetry in Camp Halleck (the name given to this camp by general orders). Mud predominates and the camp fires burn dimly. Soon the rain ceases and the clouds vanish; the sky becomes clear, and the sun sheds forth refreshing light, which is very welcome to the wet Seventh. But ere it is noon we have marching orders. The gun-boats, terrible looking monsters, are now steaming up towards Fort Henry. The army is put in motion. We look away; and around the hills and up the ravines we see the beautiful starry banners flying. It is our fate to be one of the rear regiments, and while waiting for the assembly to beat, the regiment ascends a hill close by, from where we first behold a rebel camp. We see the ensign of treason floating defiantly over the Fort. Mad, mad, men! that they would thus insult the mother that gave them birth. But ah! they are now being circumvented. The gunboats still keep steaming up towards the Fort. We predict that ere the sun sinks to rest, that banner, the representative of a wicked people, will be struck down, and that upon her staff the old Union's flag will flutter in the wind, and cast around Fort Henry her flashing light. Up a winding ravine we pass, over the hills we climb. The troops are aiming to get to the rear of the Fort, ere the bombardment commences. The roads are cut up terribly. The artillery mires down upon the hills; the Seventh lifts them out. We are now away on the Tennessee bluffs. Looking up the river we see a smoke; we hear a sullen roar. What means it all? It is a smoke and a roar from the gun-boat Essex. The ball is now open. In quick succession the mad machines of war give vent to their death-dealing elements. The troops seem eager for the fray, but it is evident the way the artillery is miring down, that it will only be a naval battle. Shot and shell, like living monsters, are now flying over and into Fort Henry. Moving on, the imposing scene is lost to our view; but like the rumble and roar of distant thunder, the echoes roll over the bluffs and cliffs of the Tennessee. All day we keep winding around through the woods, seeking to get to the rear of the Fort. Towards evening a messenger comes riding back and his voice rings out, “Fort Henry's flag is down and the rebels are flying.” It being imposible for the advanced troops to get to the rear in time to cut off the retreat, they now move up and take possession of the works. We go into camp in the woods one mile from the rebel works. Having been ordered to leave our knapsacks with the wagons this morning, we have in consequence no blankets nor overcoats to-night. It is cold. The soldiers are suffering; a bleak winter wind is blowing around them, but a rebel flag went down to-day, and the soldiers' hearts are glad, glad because in its stead floats the old Union's loved banner.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 26-7

Major-General Henry W. Halleck to Major-General George B. McClellan, February 7, 1862

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE MISSOURI,         

Saint Louis, February 7, 1862.

Fort Henry was taken yesterday, with seventeen heavy guns, General Lloyd Tilghman and staff, and 60 men, after a bombardment of one hour and a quarter by gunboats. General Grant's cavalry and gunboats in pursuit of the remainder of the garrison, who have abandoned artillery on the road. Our loss, killed, wounded, and scalded by destruction of boiler of the Essex, 44. Captain Porter is badly but not dangerously scalded. General C. F. Smith has possession of the enemy's redan on the western bank of the Tennessee. General Grant's infantry and artillery have gone to attack Fort Donelson at Dover, on the Cumberland. The gunboats not disabled are moving up the Tennessee. Commodore Foote, with disabled gunboats, has returned to Cairo—gunboats for repairs; will soon return to the field. Enemy's loss not known.

H. W. HALLECK,    

Major-General, Commanding.

Major-General MCCLELLAN.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 7 (Serial No. 7), p. 120

Report of Flag-Officer Andrew H. Foote, U. S. Navy, February 7, 1862

CAIRo, ILL., February 7, 1862.

SIR: I have the honor to report that on the 6th instant, at 12:30 p.m., I made an attack on Fort Henry, on the Tennessee River, with the ironclad gunboats Cincinnati, Commander Stembel; the flagship Essex, Commander Porter; Carondelet, Commander Walke, and St. Louis, Lieutenant Commanding Paulding; also taking with me the three old gunboats, Conestoga, Lieutenant Commanding Phelps; the Tyler, Lieutenant Commanding Gwin, and the Lexington, Lieutenant Commanding Shirk, as a second division, in charge of Lieutenant Commanding Phelps, which took position astern and inshore of the armored boats, doing good execution there in the action, while the armored boats were placed in the first order of steaming, approaching the fort in a parallel line.

The fire was opened at 1,700 yards distant from the flagship, which was followed by the other gunboats and responded to by the fort. As we approached the fort under slow steaming, till we reached within 600 yards of the rebel batteries, the fire both from the gunboats and fort increased in rapidity and accuracy of range. At twenty minutes before the rebel flag was struck, the Essex, unfortunately received a shot in her boilers, which resulted in the wounding, by scalding, of 29 officers and men, including Commander Porter, as will be seen in the enclosed list of casualties. The Essex, then necessarily dropped out of line, astern, entirely disabled and unable to continue the fight, in which she had so gallantly participated until the sad catastrophe. The firing continued with unabated rapidity and effect upon the three gunboats as they continued still to approach the fort, with their destructive fire, until the rebel flag was hauled down, after a very severe and closely contested action of one hour and fifteen minutes.

A boat containing the adjutant-general and captain of engineers came alongside after the flag was lowered and reported that General Lloyd Tilghman, the commander of the fort, wished to communicate with the flag-officer, when I dispatched Commander Stembel and Lieutenant Commanding Phelps, with orders to hoist the American flag where the secession ensign had been flying, and to inform General Tilghman that I would see him on board the flagship. He came on board soon after the Union had been substituted by Commander Stembel for the rebel flag on the fort, and possession taken.

I received the general, his staff, and some 60 or 70 men as prisoners, and a hospital ship containing 60 invalids, together with the fort and its effects, mounting twenty guns, mostly of heavy caliber, with barracks and tents capable of accommodating 15,000 men, and sundry articles, which, as I turned the fort and its effects over to General Grant, commanding the army, on his arrival in an hour after we had made the capture, he will be enabled to give the Government a more correct statement than I am enabled to communicate from the short time I had possession of the fort.

The plan of attack, so far as the army reaching the rear of the fort to make a demonstration simultaneously with the navy, was frustrated by the excessively muddy roads and high stage of water preventing the arrival of our troops until some time after I had taken possession of the fort.

On securing the prisoners and making necessary or preliminary arrangements, I dispatched Lieutenant Commanding Phelps with his division up the Tennessee River, as I had previously directed, and as will be seen in the enclosed orders to him to remove the rails and so far render the bridge incapable of railroad transportation and communication between Bowling Green and Columbus, and afterwards to pursue the rebel gunboats and secure their capture if possible.

This being accomplished, and the army in possession of the fort, and my services being o at Cairo, I left Fort Henry in the evening of the same day with the Cincinnati, Essex, and St. Louis, and arrived here this morning.

The armored gunboats resisted effectually the shot of the enemy when striking the casemate. The Cincinnati, flagship, received 31 shot; the Essex, 15; the St. Louis, 7; and Carondelet, 6; killing 1 and wounding 9 in the Cincinnati and killing 1 in the Essex, while the casualties in the latter from steam amounted to 28 in number. The Carondelet and St. Louis met with no casualties.

The steamers were admirably handled by their commanders and officers, presenting only their bow guns to the enemy to avoid exposure of the vulnerable parts of their vessels. Lieutenant Commanding Phelps, with his division, also executed my orders very effectually, and promptly proceeded up the river in their further execution after the capture of the fort. In fact, all the officers and men gallantly performed their duty, and, considering the little experience they o had under fire, far more than realized my expectations.

Fort Henry was defended with the most determined gallantry by General Tilghman, worthy of a better cause, who, from his own account, went into the action with eleven guns of heavy caliber bearing upon our boats, which he fought until seven of the number were dismounted or otherwise rendered useless.

I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

A. H. Foote,                       

Flag-Officer.

Hon. GIDEoN WELLEs,

Secretary of the Navy, Washington, D. C.

[Report of same date and like tenor to Major-General Halleck.]

SOURCE: Official Records of the Union and Confederate Navies, Series I, Volume 22, p. 537-9

Flag-Officer Andrew H. Foote to Gideon Welles, February 6, 1862

U. S. Flag Steamer “Cincinnati,”                          

Off Fort Henry, Tennnesee River,             

February 6th, 1862.

sir:

The gunboats under my command—the “Essex,” Commander Porter; “Carondelet,” Commander Walke; “Cincinnati,” Commander Stemble; “St. Louis,” Lieut. Commander Paulding; 'Conestoga,' Lieut. Commander Phelps; 'Taylor,' Lieut. Commander Gwin; and the “Lexington,” Lieut. Commanding Shirk,—after a severe and rapid fire of one hour and a quarter, have captured Fort Henry, and taken General Lloyd Tilghman, and staff, with sixty men, as prisoners. The surrender to the gunboats was unconditional, as we kept an open fire upon the enemy until the flag was struck.

In half an hour after the surrender, I handed the fort and prisoners over to General Grant, commanding the army, on his arrival at the fort in force.

The “Essex” had a shot in her boilers after fighting most effectively for two-thirds of the action, and was obliged to drop down the river. I heard that several of the men were scalded to death, including the two pilots. She, with the other gunboats, officers, and men, fought with the greatest gallantry.

The “Cincinnati” received thirty-one shots, and had one man killed and eight wounded, two seriously.

The fort, with twenty guns and seventeen mortars, was defended by General Tilghman with the most determined gallantry.

Very Respectfully,

Your Ob't Servant,

A. H. Foote.

Hon. Gideon Welles,

Secretary of the Navy.

SOURCE:  Henry Walke, Naval Scenes and Reminiscences of the Civil War in the United States, p. 56

Details of the Bombardment and Capture of Fort Henry. Incidents, &c., February 10, 1862

The Cincinnati Gazette and Commercial’s Cairo correspondence give the following account of the bombardment and capture of Fort Henry:

Yesterday, (February 6,) at 12½ p. m. the gunboats Cincinnati, St. Louis, Carondelet, and Essex, the Tyler, Conestoga and Lexington bringing up the rear, advanced boldly against the rebel works, going to the right of Painter Creek Island, immediately above where, on the east shore of the river, stands the fortifications, and keeping out of range till at the head of the island, and within a mile of the enemy, passing the enemy in full view of the rebel guns.  We steadily advanced, every man at quarters, ever ear strained to catch the flag-officer’s signal-gun for the commencement of the action.

Our line of battle was on the left, the St. Louis next, the Carondelet next, the Cincinnati, (for the time being the flag ship, having on board Flag officer Foote,) and the next the Essex.  We advanced in line, the Cincinnati a boat’s length ahead, when at 11:30 the Cincinnati opened the ball, and immediately the three accompanying boats followed suit.  The enemy was not backward, and gave an admirable response, and the fight raged furiously for half an hour.  We steadily advanced, receiving and returning the storm of shot and shell, when getting within three hundred yards of the enemy’s works we came to a stand, and poured into him right and left.  In the meantime the Essex had been disabled, and drifted away from the scene of action, leaving the Cincinnati, Carondelet and St. Louis alone engaged.

As precisely forty minutes past one, the enemy struck his colors—and such cheering, such wild excitement, as seized the throats, arms, or caps, of the four or five hundred sailors of the gunboats can be imagined.  After the surrender, which was made to Flag-officer Foote by Gen. Lloyd Tilghman, who defended the fort in a most determined manner, we found that the rebel infantry encamped outside the fort, numbering four or five thousand, had cut and run, leaving the rebel artillery company in command of the fort.

The fort mounted seventeen guns, most of them 32-pounders, one being a magnificent 10-inch columbiad.  Our shots dismounted two of their guns, driving the enemy into the embrasures.  One of their rifled 32-pounders burst during the engagement, wounding some of their gunners.  The rebels claimed to have but eleven effective guns worked by fifty-four men—the numbers all told of our prisoners.  They lost five killed and ten badly wounded.  The infantry left everything in their flight.  A vast deal of plunder has fallen into our hands, including a large and valuable quantity of ordnance stores.

Gen. Tilghman is disheartened.  He thinks it one of the most damaging blows of the war.  In surrendering to Flag-officer Foote, the rebel General remarked, “I am glad to surrender to so gallant an officer.”  Flag-officer Foote replied, “You do perfectly right, sir, in surrendering; but you should have blown my boat out of the water before I would have surrendered to you.”

In the engagement the Cincinnati was in the lead, and flying the flag officer’s pennant, was the chief mark.  Flagg-officer Foote and Capt. Stembel crowded her defiantly into the teeth of the enemy’s guns.  She got thirty-one shots, some of them going completely through her.

The Essex was badly crippled when about half through the fight, and crowding steadily against the enemy.  A ball went into her side-forward port, through the heavy bulkhead, escaping steam scalding and killing several of the crew.  Captain Porter, his aid, L. P. Britton, Jr[.], and Paymaster Lewis, were standing in a direct line of the balls passing, Mr. Britton being in the centre of the group.  A shot struck Mr. Britton on the top of his head, scattering his brains in every direction.  The escaping steam went into the pilot-house, instantly killing Mr. Ford and Mr. Bride, pilots.  Many of the soldiers, at the rush of steam, jumped overboard and were drowned.

The Cincinnati had one killed and six wounded.  The Essex had six seamen and two officers killed, seventeen men wounded and five missing.  There were no casualties on the St. Louis or Carondelet, though the shot and shell fell upon them like rain.

The St. Louis was commanded by Leonard Paulding, who stood upon the gunboat and wrought the guns to the last.  Not a man flinched, and with cheer upon cheer sent the shot and shell among the enemy.

THE REBELS NOT TRUE.—It is reported, and believed at Paducah, that the rebel troops at Fort Henry were not true to the rebel cause and took advantage of the opportunity offered by an attack to run away from a fight that was distasteful to them.

IT WAS A NAVAL VICTORY.—It appears that this victory was entirely a navel one—the troops of the expedition not having come up to the scene of action until the rebels had surrendered.  The gunboats engaged are a part of those strong iron-clad river boats, or turtles, which were built within the last few months, at, St. Louis, Carondelet and other points and which were originally destined for Gen. Fremont’s expedition down the Mississippi.  Commodore Foote mentions nine of these vessels as having been in the engagement.

ARMAMENT OF THE GUNBOATS.—The Essex, 9 guns, Commander H. [sic] D. Porter, U. S. N.; Carondelet, 13 guns, Commander H. Walke, U. S. N.; Cincinnati, 13 Guns, Commander R. N. Stembel, U. S. N.; St. Louis, 13 guns, Lieutenant Commanding Leonard Paulding, U. S. N.; Conestoga, 9 guns, Lieutenant Commanding Phelps, U. S. N.; Taylor [sic], 9 guns, Lieutenant Commanding W. Gwin, U. S. N.; Lexington, 9 guns, Lieutenant Commanding J. W. Shirk, U. S. N.

The boats are built very wide, in proportion to their length, giving them almost the same steadiness in action that a stationary land battery would possess.  They are constructed upon the same principle as the famous iron battery at Charleston, the sides sloping both upward and downward from the water line, at an angle of 45 degrees.  The bow battery on each boat consists of solid oak timber 26 inches in thickness, plated on the exterior surface with iron 2½ inches thick.  The side and stern batteries are somewhat thinner, but have the same thickness of iron over that portion covering the machinery.  The boats are not plated on the roof which consists of a 2½ inch plank.

The most dreadfully savage contrivance upon these boats is that to prevent boarding.  Each boat is supplied with a number of large hose-pipes for throwing hot water from the boilers with a force of 200 pounds pressure to the square inch.  Any human being who shall encounter this terrible stream of hot water will be boiled in an instant.

The Conestoga, Taylor [sic] and Lexington are not of the same model or character as the others, being simply Mississippi River steamboats rebuilt with perpendicular bulwarks and pierced for guns.

VALUE OF THE VICTORY.—There is another and stronger rebel fort on the Cumberland, a few miles eastward of the scene of our present victory; but considering the fact that our troops are now in the rear of that fort, and learning, as we do, from the West, the movement that is on the lapis to bring it down as suddenly as Fort Henry has been brought down, we look upon the victory we have gained as being full and complete, as regards the object in view.  Look at the map at that part of Tennessee where Fort Henry is located, and at that point of the Memphis and Ohio railroad which our troops now hold, and see how far we have penetrated in the rear of Bowling Green—see how far in the rear of Columbus—how convenient we are for sweeping down on the railroad to Memphis—see how near we now are to Nashville—and how Nashville is located to the whole State of Tennessee, and that again to the whole of the rebel States of the Southwest, and some idea will be had of the value of the present advance and victory.

COMMODORE FOOTE has been in the naval service over forty years.  He is known in the navy as one of its most efficient officers, and distinguished himself greatly in China by the bombardment and breaching of a Chinese fort, the fort, in all respects, a superior work of masonry.  The feat called forth the praise of all foreign naval officers on that coast.  Commodore Foote is an affable gentleman, and as will be seen by his reply to the rebel Tilghman, never surrenders.

CAPT. PORTER.—Capt. Porter, of the gunboat Essex, who is reported as badly scalded by the bursting of his boat’s boiler, is a native of Louisiana, but entered the navy from Massachusetts in 1823.  He is a son of the renowned Commodore Porter, who figured so prominently in the war of 1812.  He has been thirty-eight years in the service, and has seen twelve years sea duty.  When the Mississippi flotilla was projected, he was detailed to the command of a gunboat.  The Captain christened his boat the Essex, after his father’s renowned vessel, and judging from precedent, Capt. Porter is the “bull-dog,” or fighting man of this expedition.  He has Dahlgren guns for his armament, and delights in “shelling.”  He worked prodigiously getting his boat ready, and since then he has been cruising around, stirring up the rebels wherever he could find them.

GEN. TILGHMAN, the traitor who commanded at Fort Henry, was graduated at West Point, and made brevet second Lieutenant in the First dragoons in 1836, but shortly after resigned, and became division engineer on the Baltimore and Susquehanna railroad, and afterward on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.  In the Mexican war, he re-entered the service as volunteer aid-de-camp to Colonel Twiggs, and was present at the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de Palma.  He commanded a volunteer regiment  till October, 1846, and in January, 1847, was made superintendent of the defences of Matamoras; finally he acted as captain of volunteer artillery in Hughes’ regiment from August, 1847, till July, 1848.  At the close of the war he again entered civil live, and was chosen principal assistant engineer in the Panama Isthmus railroad.  On the breaking out of the war, he was acting railroad engineer, but joined the rebels, and was appointed to command at Fort Henry, where he has been ingloriously captured.

SOURCE: The National Republican, Washington, D.C., Monday, February 10, 1862, p. 2

George S. Denison to Salmon P. Chase, September 9, 1862

New Orleans, September 9th, 1862.

Dear Sir: The newspapers which I send, will give you most of the local news.

One Regiment of the Free Colored Brigade is full, and about 500 more are already enlisted. Surgeons and officers speak highly of the physical qualities of the men. Most of them are a very light color, and, I believe, will make good soldiers. I admire the characteristic shrewdness with which Gen. Butler has managed this affair. By accepting a regiment which had already been in Confederate Service, he left no room for complaint (by the Rebels) that the Government were arming the negroes. But, in enlisting, nobody inquires whether the recruit is (or has been) a slave. As a consequence the boldest and finest fugitives have enlisted, while the whole organization is known as the “Free Colored Brigade.” Without doubt it will be a success.

It is understood here that Gen. Phelps' resignation has been accepted. The controversy between Generals Butler and Phelps, is much regretted by the best Union men. Gen. Phelps is beloved by his soldiers, and no man has suspected his integrity and disinterestedness. This is not strictly true of Gen. Butler, for while all admire his great ability, many of his soldiers think him selfish and cold-hearted, and many soldiers and citizens — Union and Secessionists think he is interested in the speculations of his brother (Col. Butler) and others.

Sometimes circumstances look very suspicious, but if I happen to hear his explanation of the same circumstances, suspicion almost entirely disappears. I have never been able to discover any good proof that Gen. Butler has improperly done, or permitted, anything for his own pecuniary advantage. He is such a smart man, that it would in any case, be difficult to discover what he wished to conceal.

But it is the general impression here that money will accomplish anything with the authorities. It seems probable, that this impression would not exist without some foundation. It is much to be regretted, but Gen. B.'s abilities, shrewdness, and just severity toward secessionists — and proper appreciation of the whole rebellion, cause him to be respected and admired even by his enemies. I believe Gen. Butler's opposition to the enlistment of negroes by Gen. Phelps, was not a matter of principle. Gen. Phelps had the start of him, while Gen. B. wanted the credit of doing the thing himself, and in his own way And he is doing it, shrewdly and completely, as he does everything.

Notwithstanding the impression above mentioned, it would be difficult to find a man capable of filling Gen. Butler's place, and who would give the same satisfaction to Union men.

The City is very healthy, and the coming of Yellow Fever is no longer feared.

The Iron Clad Gunboat Essex is here from up the River.

SOURCE: Diary and correspondence of Salmon P. Chase, Annual Report of the American Historical Association for the Year 1902, Vol. 2, p. 312-4

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant George G. Smith: August 5, 1864

Relieved Eighteenth Indiana, went home on the Iberville. Lieutenant Kerney and myself crossed the river early in the morning. Found Captain Felton sick. Took command of the company. The regiment had changed front and got new tents. Next day had regimental inspection and some company property condemned. Two or three days after I was relieved from guarding the telegraph station across the river, a rebel gunboat came down the Mississippi, and hitching the telegraph wires just above the station to the stern of their boat pulled them off the poles for quite a long distance below. The commander at the station sent a dispatch to a gunboat over at the Fort undergoing some repairs, but they had no coal on board. A coal barge was in the river loaded with coal, so the commander moved down alongside and coaled up affirming with oaths that he would catch that boat before she reached the Gulf of Mexico or sink his own. It was in the night time when the rebel boat went down. She passed the Essex laying near Baton Rouge, our fort (Butler) with eight guns and a gunboat, two forts between us and New Orleans and two or three iron clads at the latter city and never got fired on once. After they passed New Orleans they saw a heavy Ironclad coming up the river with a transport lashed alongside. This showed them that the game was up, and they run her ashore, blew her up, and the crew escaped into the woods The gunboat from Donaldsonville made good time, but when it came up with the prize, it was almost consumed to the water's edge.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 128-9

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant George G. Smith: March 27, 1864

We passed Baton Rouge and Port Hudson entering the mouth of Red river at about noon. On the way up two men hailed us from the shore in the woods. We took them in and found they were deserters from the gun boats at Fort De Russey. Poor fellows, they could get nothing to eat along that river but aligators: and I guess the hard tack and salt junk tasted good to them. They were turned over to the Essex when we arrived at the fort and what happened to them after that we never stopped to learn.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 91

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: June 28, 1863

First Louisiana ordered to Donaldsonville. Went in wagons by way of Springfield Landing, 18 miles below Port Hudson, where we went on board the Iberville at 10 p. m. Next morning, at daylight, arrived at Fort Butler. Rumor of a fight here had reached us, but we were not fully aware of the magnitude of the conflict until now. Port Barro, a little cluster of houses on the same side of the bayou with the fort, had been nearly all burned, and some of the houses in Donaldson were burning. The First Louisiana disembarked and went into the fort. New made graves were seen along the levee and the slope of the parapet towards the river was completely covered with a gore of blood.

We learned that at 2 o'clock on the morning of the 28th, a force of Texas rebels under General Morton, 5,000 strong, had attacked the fort. The garrison in the fort consisted of a detachment from the 28th Maine, commanded by Major Bullen and a few convalescents from the hospital, belonging to the First Louisiana; in all about 183 efficient men. Six heavy 24-pound siege guns were mounted on the parapet, and the Essex lay in the river. This was our force and armament. The plan of attack was this: A force was to make a feint upon the main entrance by the side of the bayou, while a storming party of 500 picked men were to steal down behind the levee, under cover of darkness, wade around the stockade in the river, and scale the parapet on the river side, where there was no moat. By some mistake the storming party arrived first, and while some were wading around the stockade, others tried to cut an opening in it with axes. This alarmed the garrison, and in an instant the parapet was bristling with bayonets. Then commenced “some savage biting.” For three long mortal hours did this little heroic band withstand the assault of three times their number in a hand-to-hand conflict with only a bank of earth six feet wide and as high as a man's breast to separate them. Charge after charge was made by the rebels, yelling as only Texans know how to yell, but each was met by a volley that sent the maddened desperate adventurers hurling back down the parapet with mortal wounds. Some tried to creep over, but these were met by the bayonets. They then resorted to throwing bricks, but all of no avail. _ One desperate fellow mounted the gate in the stockade with a lantern, and tried to open it inside. He fell pierced with many bullets. In the meantime, while this was going on, the main force had arrived and the fort was besieged on all sides. The heavy guns then opened their black throats and vomited forth death and swift destruction, while two gunboats, lying up the river, hearing the conflict, rushed to the scene of action under full steam, and rounding the bend above the fort, opened broadside after broadside, of shot and shell, in the midst of the enemy. It was then that death and destruction reigned supreme, and the Death Angel flapped her broad wings amid the glare of bursting bombs and the terrible flashes of the deep-mouthed cannon. The horrified rebels retreated in dismay and confusion, while the death-dealing missiles pursued them for miles, and strewed the country with the slain.

The story of that terrible night is now soon told. At early dawn the Essex spied the few hundred rebels who had crept behind the stockade between the parapet and the river. They immediately opened a broadside of grape and canister. A flag of truce was raised, and they were prisoners of war.

This ended one of the most bloody conflicts of the war, according to numbers. But the loss was nearly all on one side. The enemy lost 1,000 men in killed and taken prisoners. Our loss was six killed and 11 wounded.

It was my original intention not to relate anything but what I saw with my own eyes or participated in personally. I have, however, departed somewhat from that purpose, but not without the best of evidence either from eye-witnesses or participants themselves. In relating the foregoing account of the attack on Fort Butler, the language may seem overdrawn, but if it is, it was not my intention to have it so. I had the best of opportunities to obtain the facts, and I can conscientiously say that I have related them truly and faithfully as they were told me.

Companies F, C and E of the First Louisiana remained at the fort, and the remainder of the regiment was ordered back to Port Hudson. At night I was detailed as officer of the picket guard. Houses were burning all night, but all was quiet so far as the enemy was concerned. But at noon of the next day the advanced mounted videttes came rushing in seemingly in a terrible fright, reporting that a large force of rebel cavalry was close at hand and approaching rapidly. At the time I was with the reserve at the post on the river road above the fort. There was a bend in the levee and the road above this station, which shut out from view everything beyond. Consequently the cavalry would be upon us before we could see them. So, of course, we must retreat or be captured I chose the former. An orderly met us with a message from the commander of the fort, ordering us to hasten so the guns could sweep the road. When we came in sight, the men were at the guns and the garrison was ready to fight. No enemy appeared however, and we returned to our positions. At about 4 o'clock p. m. a mulatto girl came down from a plantation above and stated that a large force of cavalry came there at about noon to see how many gun boats were at the fort, stating that they intended to attack us again at night. Relieved at sundown.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 80-5

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Tuesday, September 30, 1862

It required very little persuasion to induce those gentlemen to stay to supper, the other evening, and it was quite late before they took their leave. Dr. Addison I was very much pleased with, and so were all the rest. Mr. M–––, none of us fell desperately in love with. He is too nonchalant and indifferent, besides having a most peculiar pronunciation which grated harshly on my ears, and that no orthography could fully express. “Garb,” for instance, was distorted into “gairb,” “yard” into “yaird,” “Airkansas,” and all such words that I can only imitate by a violent dislocation of my lower jaw that puts Anna into convulsions of laughter — only she would laugh the same if it was not funny. This Kentuckian pronunciation grates “hairshly” on my Southern ears. Miriam addressed herself exclusively to the Doctor, so I was obliged to confine my attention entirely to neglected Mr. M–––, in which pious duty I was ably and charitably seconded by the General. Speaking of the bravery and daring displayed by the Southern soldiers during this war, Mr. M––– mentioned the dangerous spot he had seen us in the first day we went down to the “Airkansas” and said that, lying directly across the point from the Essex, they expected every instant to see one of her shells explode among us, and were very uneasy about our position, as we did not seem to know the danger. I asked him if he had observed anything peculiar among the dozen planters and overseers standing a short distance from us, when the Captain sent us word that our position was a very dangerous one, as they expected the Essex to open fire every instant, and we had best stand below the levee, higher up, where we would be safe from shells. “I noticed that before any of you understood your position, every man had disappeared as though by magic.” Now I had noticed that myself. When I turned, under shelter of the levee, our gallant planters were galloping off in the distance. While Ginnie and I looked and laughed, we suddenly found ourselves the sole objects on the horizon; the other girls were in the road below, going carelessly toward the carriage; so we followed, having lost sight of the brave representatives of Southern chivalry, being the last to leave the supposed field of danger. To my former remark, let me add that there is only one set who take better care for their safety than married women; and that set is composed exclusively of the “Home Guard.” Timid girls, either through ignorance or fun, compose the majority of the brave “men” that the volunteer service has not absorbed.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 242-3

Diary of Sarah Morgan: September 26, 1862

Sarah Morgan. X.

September 26th, Friday.

My mark finds me at Linwood, though I had not the slightest idea that it would. Wonder where twenty pages beyond will find me? At home, I hope and pray, though I am as happy here as I could possibly be in any place on earth.

Stirring news from our armies comes pouring in. Sunday, Colonel Breaux told me of Wool's defeat, and the great number of prisoners, cannon, and the large supplies of stores and ammunition that we had captured. Then Tuesday we heard of three great battles in Maryland, the third one still continuing; but no particulars of any of them. Yesterday came tidings of our having recrossed the Potomac, and to-day we hear that McClellan's army has been cut to pieces; but whether it is the same old fight or a new one, I cannot as yet learn; for reliable information is not easily obtained in America at this period.

Did I ever record how little truth there was in any of that last Clinton news? It speaks for itself, though. Not a boat lay at Baton Rouge; Camp Moore was not even threatened; Ponchatoula Station was burned, but the one battery was retaken by our men the same night.

But still these false reports cannot equal the Yankees'. Take, for instance, the report of the Captain of the Essex. I give General Carter as my authority. The Captain reports having been fired on by a battery of thirty-six large guns, at Port Hudson, some weeks ago, when he opened fire and silenced them, one after the other, from the first to the last. Not a shot from the "rebel" batteries reached them, and not a casualty on their side occurred. But the loss of the Confederates must have been awful. He came within — I forget how many — yards from the shore, and there was not a live man to be seen. He did not mention if there were any dead ones! Now for the other side. There were but four guns mounted there at the time. Shot and shell from those four certainly reached something, for one was seen to enter a porthole, from whence issued frightful shrieks soon after, and it is well known that the Essex is so badly injured by “something” as to be in a sinking condition, and only kept afloat by a gunboat lashed on either side. If she is uninjured, why did she not return and burn Natchez as she announced? In leaving Port Hudson, where "not a live man was to be seen" (nor a dead one to be found), she stopped at Mr. Babin's, just below Dr. Nolan's, where she remained the rest of the day. After she left, being curious to discover the reason of her short stay, Mr. Babin walked to the place where she had been, and discovered sixteen fresh graves on the bank. If they buried them as they did at Baton Rouge and Vicksburg, four in a grave, how many would they be? But granting there were but sixteen, would that prove the veracity of the Captain? Poor man! Perhaps he is related to Pope, and cannot help himself.

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 236-7

Diary of Sarah Morgan: Sunday, August 10, 1862

Is this really Sunday? Never felt less pious, or less seriously disposed! Listen to my story, and though I will, of course, fall far short of the actual terror that reigned, yet it will show it in a lukewarm light, that can at least recall the excitement to me.

To begin, then, last evening, about six o'clock, as we sat reading, sewing, and making lint in the parlor, we heard a tremendous shell whizzing past, which those who watched, said passed not five feet above the house. Of course, there was a slight stir among the unsophisticated; though we, who had passed through bombardments, sieges, and alarms of all kinds, coolly remarked, “a shell,” and kept quiet. (The latter class was not very numerous.) It was from one of the three Yankee boats that lay in the river close by (the Essex and two gunboats), which were sweeping teams, provisions, and negroes from all the plantations they stopped at from Baton Rouge up. The negroes, it is stated, are to be armed against us as in town, where all those who manned the cannon on Tuesday were, for the most part, killed; and served them right! Another shell was fired at a carriage containing Mrs. Durald and several children, under pretense of discovering if she was a guerrilla, doubtless. Fortunately, she was not hurt, however.

By the time the little émeute had subsided, determined to have a frolic, Miss Walters, Ginnie, and I got on our horses, and rode off down the Arkansas Lane, to have a gallop and a peep at the gunboats from the levee. But mother's entreaties prevented us from going that near, as she cried that it was well known they fired at every horse or vehicle they saw in the road, seeing a thousand guerrillas in every puff of dust, and we were sure to be killed, murdered, and all sorts of bloody deaths awaited us; so to satisfy her, we took the road about a mile from the river, in full view, however. We had not gone very far before we met a Mr. Watson, a plain farmer of the neighborhood, who begged us to go back. “You'll be fired on, ladies, sure! You don't know the danger! Take my advice and go home as quick as possible before they shell you! They shot buggies and carriages, and of course they won't mind horses with women! Please go home!” But Ginnie, who had taken a fancy to go on, acted as spokeswoman, and determined to go on in spite of his advice, so, nothing loath to follow her example, we thanked him, and rode on. Another met us; looked doubtful, said it was not so dangerous if the Yankees did not see the dust; but if they did, we would be pretty apt to see a shell soon after. Here was frolic! So we rode on some mile or two beyond, but failing to see anything startling, turned back again.

About two miles from here, we met Mr. Watson coming at full speed. The ladies, he said, had sent him after us in all haste; there was a report that the whole coast was to be shelled; a lady had passed, flying with her children; the carriage was ordered out; they were only waiting for us, to run, too. We did not believe a word of it, and were indignant at their credulity, as well as determined to persuade them to remain where they were, if possible. When told their plan was to run to the house formerly used as a guerrilla camp, we laughed heartily. Suppose the Yankees fired a shell into it to discover its inhabitants? The idea of choosing a spot so well known! And what fun in running to a miserable hole, when we might sleep comfortably here? I am afraid rebellion was in the air. Indeed, an impudent little negro, who threw open the gate for us, interrupted Ginnie in the midst of a tirade with a sly “Here's the beginning of a little fuss!”

We found them all crazy with fear. I did not say much; I was too provoked to trust myself to argue with so many frightened women. I only said I saw no necessity. Ginnie resisted; but finally succumbed. Mr. Watson, whom we had enlisted on our side also, said it was by no means necessary, but if we were determined, we might go to his house, about four miles away, and stay there. It was very small, but we were welcome. We had in the mean time thrown off our riding-skirts, and stood just in our plain dresses, though the others were freshly dressed for an exodus. Before the man left, the carriage came, though by that time we had drawn half the party on our side; we said we would take supper, and decide after, so he went off.

In a few moments a rocket went up from one of the boats, which attracted our attention. Five minutes after, we saw a flash directly before us. “See it? Lightning, I expect,” said Phillie. The others all agreed; but I kept quiet, knowing that some, at least, knew what it was as well as I, and determined not to give the alarm — for I was beginning to feel foolish. Before half a minute more came a tearing, hissing sound, a sky-rocket whose music I had heard before. Instantly I remembered my running-bag, and flew upstairs to get it, escaping just in time from the scene which followed on the gallery which was afterwards most humorously described to me. But I was out of hearing of the screams of each (and yet I must have heard them); neither saw Miss Walters tumble against the wall, nor mother turn over her chair, nor the general mélée that followed, in which Mrs. Walters, trying to scale the carriage, was pulled out by Uncle Will, who shouted to his plunging horses first, then to the other unreasoning creatures, “Woa, there! ’T ain't safe! Take to the fields! Take to the woods! Run to the sugar-house! Take to your heels!” in a frenzy of excitement.

I escaped all that, and was putting on my hoops and hastily catching up any article that presented itself to me in my speed, when the shell burst over the roof, and went rolling down on the gallery, according to the account of those then below. Two went far over the house, out of sight. All three were seen by Mr. Watson, who came galloping up in a few moments, crying, “Ladies, for God's sake, leave the house!” Then I heard mother calling, “Sarah! You will be killed! Leave your clothes and run!”— and a hundred ejaculations that came too fast for me to answer except by an occasional “Coming, if you will send me a candle!” Candle was the same as though I had demanded a hand-grenade, in mother's opinion, for she was sure it would be the signal for a bombardment of my exposed room; so I tossed down my bundles, swept combs and hairpins into my bosom (all points up), and ravished a candle from some one. How quickly I got on, then! I saved the most useless of articles with the greatest zeal, and probably left the most serviceable ones. One single dress did my running-bag contain — a white linen cambric with a tiny pink flower — the one I wore when I told Hal good-bye for the last time. The others I left.

When I got down with my knapsack, mother, Phillie, and Mrs. Walters were —

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 160-5

Diary of Sarah Morgan: August 6, 1862

We six madcaps got in the carriage and buggy, and rode off in search of news. We took a quantity of old linen rags along, and during the whole drive, our fingers were busy making lint. Once we stopped at a neighbor's to gather the news, but that did not interfere with our labors at all. Four miles from here we met a crowd of women flying, and among them recognized Mrs. La Noue and Noemie. A good deal of loud shouting brought them to the carriage in great surprise to see us there. They were running from the plantation where they had taken refuge, as it was not safe from the shells, as the gunboats had proved to them. The reports we had heard in the morning were from shots fired on this side of the river by them, in hopes of hurting a guerrilla or two. Noemie told us that two Western regiments had laid down their arms, and General Williams had been killed by his own men. She looked so delighted, and yet it made me sick to think of his having been butchered so. Phillie leaned out, and asked her, as she asked everybody, if she knew anything about her father. Noemie, in her rapture over that poor man's death, exclaimed, “Don't know a word about him! know Williams was cut to pieces, though!” — and that is all we could learn from her. We went on until we came insight of Baton Rouge. There it stood, looking so beautiful against the black, lowering sky that I could not but regret its fate. We could see the Garrison, State House, Asylum, and all that; but the object of the greatest interest to me was the steeple of the Methodist church, for to the right of it lay home. While looking at it, a negro passed who was riding up and down the coast collecting lint, so I gave him all we had made, and commenced some more. Presently, we met Mr. Phillips, to whom Phillie put the same question. “He is on the Laurel Hill a prisoner — Confound that negro! where did he go?” And so on, each answer as far as concerned her, seeming a labor, but the part relating to the servant very hearty. Poor Phillie complained that everybody was selfish — thought only of their own affairs, and did not sympathize with her. “Yes, my dear,” I silently assented; for it was very true; every one seemed to think of their own interests alone. It was late before we got home, and then we had great fun in watching shells which we could dimly trace against the clouds, falling in what must have been the Garrison. Then came a tremendous fire, above, which may have been a boat — I don't know.

I hear a tremendous firing again, and from the two volumes of smoke, should judge it was the Arkansas and the Essex trying their strength at a distance. We are going down to see what's the fun. It would be absurd to record all the rumors that have reached us, since we can rely on none. They say we fought up to nine last night, and occupied the Garrison for five minutes, when the shells forced us to abandon it. Also that four regiments laid down their arms, that the Federals were pursued by our men to the river, driven to the gunboats, and pushed off to prevent the Western men from coming aboard. An eye-witness, from this side, reports that General Williams, “they say,” was forcibly held before a cannon and blown to pieces. For the sake of humanity, I hope this is false.

Oh, what a sad day this is for our country! Mother disapproved so of our going to the levee to see the fight, that we consented to remain, though Miriam and Ginnie jumped into the buggy and went off alone. Presently came tidings that all the planters near Baton Rouge were removing their families and negroes, and that the Yankees were to shell the whole coast, from there up to here. Then Phillie, Lilly (Nolan), and I jumped in — the carriage that was still waiting, and ran after the others to bring them back before they got in danger; but when we reached the end of the long lane, we saw them standing on the high levee, wringing their hands and crying. We sprang out and joined them, and there, way at the bend, lay the Arkansas on fire! All except myself burst into tears and lamentations, and prayed aloud between their sobs. I had no words or tears; I could only look at our sole hope burning, going, and pray silently. Oh, it was so sad! Think, it was our sole dependence! And we five girls looked at her as the smoke rolled over her, watched the flames burst from her decks, and the shells as they exploded one by one beneath the water, coming up in jets of steam. And we watched until down the road we saw crowds of men toiling along toward us. Then we knew they were those who had escaped, and the girls sent up a shriek of pity.

On they came, dirty, half-dressed, some with only their guns, others, a few, with bundles and knapsacks on their backs, grimy and tired, but still laughing. We called to the first, and asked if the boat were really afire; they shouted, “Yes,” and went on, talking still. Presently one ran up and told us the story. How yesterday their engine had broken, and how they had labored all day to repair it; how they had succeeded, and had sat by their guns all night; and this morning, as they started to meet the Essex, the other engine had broken; how each officer wrote his opinion that it was impossible to fight her with any hope of success under such circumstances, and advised the Captain to abandon her; how they had resolved to do so, had exchanged shots with the Essex across the point, and the first of the latter (only one, also) had set ours afire, when the men were ordered to take their side arms. They thought it was to board the Essex, assembled together, when the order was given to fire the Arkansas and go ashore, which was done in a few minutes. Several of the crew were around us then, and up and down the road they were scattered still in crowds.

Miriam must have asked the name of some of the officers; for just then she called to me, “He says that is Mr. Read!” I looked at the foot of the levee, and saw two walking together. I hardly recognized the gentleman I was introduced to on the McRae in the one that now stood below me in rough sailor pants, a pair of boots, and a very thin and slazy lisle undershirt. That is all he had on, except an old straw hat, and — yes! he held a primer! I did not think it would be embarrassing to him to meet me under such circumstances; I only thought of Jimmy's friend as escaping from a sad fate; so I rushed down a levee twenty feet high, saying, “O Mr. Read! You won't recognize me, but I am Jimmy's sister” He blushed modestly, shook my hand as though we were old friends, and assured me he remembered me, was glad to meet me, etc. Then Miriam came down and talked to him, and then we went to the top of the levee where the rest were, and watched the poor Arkansas burn.

By that time the crowd that had gone up the road came back, and we found ourselves in the centre of two hundred men, just we five girls, talking with the officers around us as though they were old friends. You could only guess they were officers, for a dirtier, more forlorn set I never saw. Not dirty either; they looked clean, considering the work they had been doing. Nobody introduced anybody else; we all felt like brothers and sisters in our common calamity. There was one handsome Kentuckian, whose name I soon found to be Talbot, who looked charmingly picturesque in his coarse cottonade pants, white shirt, straw hat, black hair, beard, and eyes, with rosy cheeks. He was a graduate of the Naval Academy some years ago. Then another jolly-faced young man from the same Academy, pleased me, too. He, the doctor, and the Captain, were the only ones who possessed a coat in the whole crowd, the few who saved theirs carrying them over their arms. Mr. Read more than once blushingly remarked that they were prepared to fight, and hardly expected to meet us; but we pretended to think there was nothing unusual in his dress. I can understand, though, that he should feel rather awkward; I would not like to meet him, if I was in the same costume.

They all talked over their loss cheerfully, as far as the loss of money, watches, clothes, were concerned; but they were disheartened about their boat. One threw himself down near my feet, saying, “Me wild. I have saved my gun, et puis the clothes that I stand in!” and laughed as though it were an excellent joke. One who had been on the Merrimac chiefly regretted the loss of the commission appointing him there, though he had not saved a single article. The one with the jolly face told me Will Pinckney was among those attacking Baton Rouge, and assured him he expected to take supper there last night. He thought it would be with us, I know! I hope he is safe!

After a while the men were ordered to march up the lane, to some resting spot it is best not to mention here, and straggled off; but there were many sick among them, one wounded at Vicksburg, and we instantly voted to walk the mile and three quarters home, and give them the carriage and buggy. But long after they left, we stood with our new friends on the levee watching the last of the Arkansas, and saw the Essex, and two gunboats crowded with men, cautiously turn the point, and watch her burn. What made me furious was the thought of the glowing accounts they would give of their “capture of the Arkansas!!!” Capture, and they fired a shot apiece! — for all the firing we heard was the discharge of her guns by the flames. We saw them go back as cautiously, and I was furious, knowing the accounts they would publish of what we ourselves had destroyed. We had seen many shells explode, and one magazine, and would have waited for the other, if the clouds had not threatened rain speedily. But we had to leave her a mere wreck, still burning, and started off on our long walk.

In our hurry, I had brought neither handkerchief nor gloves, but hardly missed either, I was so excited. Mr. Talbot walked home with me, and each of the others with some one else. He had a small bundle and a sword, and the latter I insisted on carrying. It was something, to shoulder a sword made for use rather than for ornament! So I would carry it. He said “he would remember who had carried it, and the recollection would give it a new value in his eyes, and I might rest assured it should never be disgraced after that,” and all that sort of thing, of course, as it is usual to say it on such occasions. But I shouldered the sword bravely, determined to show my appreciation of the sacrifice they had made for us, in coming to our rescue on a boat they had every reason to believe was unsafe. I liked Mr. Talbot! He made himself very agreeable in that long walk. He asked permission to send me a trophy from the first action in which he used “that” sword, and didn't I say yes! He thought Southern men had every encouragement in the world, from the fact that the ladies welcomed them with great kindness in victory or defeat, insinuating he thought they hardly deserved our compassion after their failure on the Arkansas. But I stoutly denied that it was a failure. Had they not done their best? Was it their fault the machinery broke? And in defeat or vic tory, were they not still fighting for us? Were we the less grateful when they met with reverse? Oh, didn't I laud the Southern men with my whole heart!—and I think he felt better for it, too! Yes! I like him!

We all met at the steps, and water was given to our cavaliers, who certainly enjoyed it. We could not ask them in, as Dr. Nolan is on his parole; but Phillie intimated that if they chose to order, they might do as they pleased, as women could not resist armed men! So they took possession of the sugarhouse, and helped themselves to something to eat, and were welcome to do it, since no one could prevent! But they first stood talking on the balcony, gayly, and we parted with many warm wishes on both sides, insisting that, if they assisted at a second attack on Baton Rouge, they must remember our house was at their service, wounded or in health. And they all shook hands with us, and looked pleased, and said “God bless you,” and “Good-bye.”

SOURCE: Sarah Morgan Dawson, A Confederate Girl's Diary, p. 147-55

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, March 17, 1864

Headquarters Div. Seventeenth Army Corps,

Red River Expedition, Fort De Russey,

Avoyelles County, Louosiana, March 17, 1864.

My Dear Wife:

My last hurried letter to you was dated from on board ship at Vicksburg. The fleet of transports under my command sailed from that point at seven o'clock, Thursday, 10th inst., arrived at mouth of Red River and reported to Admiral Porter on Friday at noon. At 10 A.m., Saturday, sailed up Red River and Atchafalaya under orders and signals from flagship Black Hawk, to Simmesport. Morning of Sunday debarked my troops for inspection, review and drill by regiments. At seven o'clock P.M., received marching orders, and at 8 P.M. marched, bringing up the rear of the column, repaired bridges through the night, roads for greater part of the way bad and swampy; bivouacked at 4 A.M., Monday, eight miles from Simmesport. Meanwhile, Gen. A. J. Smith, with General Mower's command, had reconnoitred the front, driven four regiments of the enemy from a fortification, situate some five miles from Simmesport, and was making across country for Moreauville on Bayou L'Eglise. Gave my troops rest two hours; at six o'clock took up the line of march, moving forward rapidly till eleven o'clock, when I halted, ordered coffee for the men and fed the animals. Meanwhile pioneers were reconstructing bridge destroyed by the enemy. At noon resumed march which till this time had led us for the most part through a rich and highly-cultivated country past extensive canefields and sugar-houses, now crossing a bayou and penetrating a swamp spreading some few miles before us. Ascending a slight elevation, we suddenly emerged in one of the most beautiful prairies imaginable. High table land, gently undulating, watered by exquisite lakes occasional groves, the landscape dotted with tasteful houses, gardens and shrubberies. This prairie, called Avoyelles, is settled exclusively by French emigrés, many of whom, as our army passed, sought shelter under the tricolor of France. Pushing forward rapidly, we gained Marksville at 4.30 P.M. Deserters had warned us that the enemy were on our left flank and rear as early as three o'clock. My troops were well closed up. Two and a half miles beyond Marksville, I formed line of battle at 5.30, my right resting immediately on the left of the advanced forces. My transportation and ambulances parked far to the rear. As my command came to front, brisk musketry firing commenced at the fort. Some shells fell to the rear and right of my line. I was ordered by the general commanding to look well to my rear and left wing, that I might anticipate attack from General Walker with six thousand Texans. I stood to arms. At 6.30 news was brought me that the fort had surrendered. I threw out heavy pickets, stacked arms and went into bivouac, a piercing cold “Norther” sweeping over the plain. In summary, I remark that the command on the 14th inst, marched twenty-eight and a half miles, built a substantial bridge of sixty feet in length, repaired minor ones, and took a fort between sunrise and sunset. But one brigade, Colonel Ward, commanding, was actively engaged; their casualties nine killed, thirty-seven wounded. The substantial results I enclose in memorandum of ordnance and ordnance stores, to which may be added a large amount of commissary stores, flour, beef, sugar and molasses, and three hundred and thirty-four prisoners, thirty-four of whom were officers from lieutenant-colonel to third lieutenant.

Meanwhile, convoy and fleet had made slow and devious way through the tortuous windings of Red River, where navigation at present stage of water is difficult. Rapid current, frequent eddies, sharp bends and snags, are the natural obstacles; to these the enemy added rafts and spiles; nevertheless, as the fort surrendered, the Black Hawk rounded to land shortly afterwards the general commanding received the congratulations of the Admiral, whom he will compliment by present of the nine-inch Dahlgren, of the Indianola, and the two heavy guns of the Harriet Lane, recaptured. My command is in occupation of the fort, and will be engaged to-day and to-morrow in the demolition of the casemates, bridges, etc., etc., and finally the blowing-up of the magazines, in which we shall permit to be destroyed vast quantities of powder. The main body under command of General Mower, convoyed by Admiral Porter, sailed last night for Alexandria, where I expect to join them in three days. Gen. A. J. Smith remains with me, and gunboats Essex and Benton, Captains Grier and Townsend.

A glance at the map will give you my present locality without the aid of sketch; but I will enclose herewith draft and dimensions of fortifications that you may intelligently answer questions; to which end, indeed, I have written you a sort of condensed report. If you have not “Colton's” maps, you had better buy first volume, North and South America; meanwhile you can borrow and trace me down the Mississippi, up the Atchafalaya, pronounced “Chafalia,” to Simmesport, across country to Marksville, from thence to Fort De Russy, on the Red, thence up the river to Alexandria.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 356-9

Gen. Grant’s Expedition

PADUCAH, February 4, 1862

The transports which left Cairo yesterday with troops on board, came straggling in here one at a time during all of last night, and immediately proceeded up the Tennessee.

We reached a point ten miles this side of Fort Henry about daylight, where we found the gun boats St. Louis, Essex, Carondelet and St. Louis [sic] lying at anchor.  The troops on board the new Uncle Sam, Illinois and Aleck Scott, were disembarked and again re-embarked, and landed four miles above, where the balance of the troops were also landed as fast as they arrived.

The gunboats weighed anchor upon our arrival, and steamed up to within gunshot range of the Fort, where an interchange of shot and shell was had between our boats and the Fort, about twenty shots being fired on each side.  The shooting was very accurate on both sides.  One shot from the Fort struck the upper wooden cabin of the Essex, and tore a hole in her.  The damage was, however, but trifling, as the cabin was but a temporary affair.  Several of our shells burst in the fort, and immense damage is supposed to have been done.

At intervals between shots a rebel steamer was seen maneuvering about.

A powerful Union force is now encamped on the heights of the east bank of the Tennessee River, just beyond the range of the enemy’s guns.

The transports, after landing their human cargoes, returned to Paducah, where they will take on reinforcements, and proceed as speedily as possible to the point of debarkation, near Fort Henry.

The New Uncle Sam met with an accident in returning here this afternoon.  About twenty miles up the river, while running close to the shore, she ran into a large tree, tearing away her railings and escape pipe, and damaging her wheel house and barber shop, the latter to the great consternation of the proprietor of the last named establishment.

Heavy re-enforcements will be landed near Fort Henry to-morrow, to co-operate with the force now there, and ere many days shall elapse, the clash of arms will be heard in this quarter that will shake secessionism to its foundation.

I have not been able to learn what, if anything, has been done on the Cumberland from Smithland.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 8, 1862, p. 2

Officer’s Circle: Shiloh National Cemetery

UNITED STATES

NATIONAL MILITARY CEMETERY

 PITTSBURG LANDING.

ESTABLISHED 1866.

INTERMENTS 3590.

KNOWN 1229.

UNKNOWN 2361.

3582

Unknown

Captain W. H. H.

John L Miller

Corporal, 12th Tennessee Cavalry (USA)

3585

Unknown

William Lester

1st Lieutenant, Co. C, 21st Missouri Infantry

John C Stahel

Private, Co. 1, 181st Ohio Infantry

John Mathews

Quartermaster, USS Essex, United States Navy

John Mathews

Quartermaster, USS Essex, United States Navy

Scalded badley in the assault against Fort Henry and died February 6, 1862

Officer’s Circle

Shiloh National Cemetery