Corporal Fales, Company B, had noticed the flag of truce when it was raised near the railroad wharf, by whom nobody knew, either at that time or after. If it was not a trick of the enemy, famous at such games in small actions, then it must have been done by some of the other men on duty, or from convalescents who wished to surrender. In either case it had no reference to or binding force upon the men who had the courage to make a fight. Each knot of men act for themselves in an action of this character. Fales spoke to Private Young, Company B, saying: “It is foolish to stand where we are and be shot down or to surrender with the flag of truce,” and both fell back behind a house near by, from there ran into the woods and swamp, and were joined by Privates Nathaniel Ide, David Robinson, George S. Rice, a private of the Twenty-First Indiana, and a sergeant of the Twenty-Third Connecticut. They endeavored to travel southward in the swamp, with an idea of reaching Shell Island, expecting to be able to escape from there towards Algiers. Their food gave out, and finally, after trying to live upon uncooked green corn with salt pork, not daring to make a fire, they surrendered to Colonel Baylor at Bayou Bœuff, on Sunday, the twenty-eighth, after five days’ life in the swamp. About eleven men escaped by the railroad track to Bayou Bœuff, and reported for duty to Lieutenant-Colonel Duganne, commanding post.
The casualties to the detachment were:
Private Lawson Comey, Company H, twenty-five years old, shot in the head and killed before the detachment scattered.
Private William E. Cook, Company B, twenty years old, wounded in abdomen, dying the same day.
First-Sergeant George W. Ballou, Company B, severely wounded in left arm just before the detachment scattered.
Private George E. Clark, Company B, severely wounded in calf of left leg.
Several men had narrow escapes from wounds or death, for bullets grazed clothing, muskets, and accoutrements.
At Bayou Bœuff, on the morning of the twenty-fourth, Lieutenant-Colonel Duganne found he had only seventy-two infantry and forty artillery men for duty, instead of two hundred and fifty men with him the day before. This does not speak well for the officers on duty, that over one hundred men should have disappeared during the night. Everything was entangled. When an engineer ran two locomotives into the Bœuff the morning before, bringing news of the capture of Brashear City, and men who had escaped capture came straggling in and corroborated the engineer’s story, the post-commander made some preparatory measures for a proper defence. He had three siege-guns and one brass howitzer. Slight earthworks were thrown up. Captain Hopkins burned the bridge at Bayou Ramos early on the evening of the twenty-third, and joined Duganne with his men. The situation of the post was bad, with an enemy in front and rear. An officer of experience and courage who, when his determination was fixed to defend the post, had decision of character sufficient to make the attempt, could possibly so arrange his plans of defence as to enable him to have kept the enemy at bay for a few days at least. The men were reliable, if under an officer in whom they had confidence. The food supply was one day’s rations to each man, but this could have been eked out to last two or three days, if any skill had been applied. The ammunition was plenty for a proper defence. Many times in the history of wars have small bodies of soldiers been placed in worse positions, yet, by a heroic defence, saved themselves and prevented the intentions of an enemy from being carried out. There was no defence of Bayou Bœuff. The fact that relief was likely to come from New Orleans was ignored. On the very day Lieutenant-Colonel Duganne surrendered, a force of five companies Ninth Connecticut Infantry, under Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzgibbons, advanced to Chucahoula in the afternoon, within nine miles of the Bœuff, before a Confederate force was met. Had Duganne kept them at bay for one day, letting his guns tell the story, their reverberation along the narrow, densely-wooded railroad line would have brought down upon them the whole Federal force then at La-Fourche.
Early on the morning of the twenty-fourth a council of officers was held and decided to surrender. A sugar-house with outlying sheds, filled with army supplies, officers’ baggage, arms, and military appurtenances of all kinds, stored by some of the brigades of the army, was burned during the evening of the twenty-third. The two locomotives were rendered unfit for immediate use, but not destroyed. What negroes had been armed to assist in the defence were disarmed, that the enemy might have no reason to maltreat them. Some of these negroes were excellent shots, anxious and ready to fight.
Shortly after dawn the Confederates appeared from Brashear and opened a parley. While debating whether to accept the terms of unconditional surrender demanded, Colonel Major and his men appeared on the other side; a parley was opened, Colonel Major crossing the railroad bridge with a flag of truce, and while discussing the preliminaries of surrender, before the truce was withdrawn, Major’s men got into the post without a gun being fired, and the Federal troops were prisoners before they knew it. The enemy appropriated everything, as usual, and the prisoners were marched to Brashear the same day, joining their comrades at Fort Buchanan the same night. To use an expression frequently made by the enlisted men, it was a “sell out,” and they expected it from the method adopted to organize and prepare for defence.