On the way back to the fort a Confederate officer halted the party. During a conversation that ensued he noticed the figures forty-two on Turner’s cap, and inquired if he belonged to the Forty-Second Massachusetts. Turner answered, “Yes;” the officer then said he was present at the capture of Galveston with the Forty-Second Regiment; that the men were paroled, and he would have to look into his case. It was hard work to make the fool understand that only three companies of the regiment were made prisoners at Galveston, and not the entire regiment.
Sergeant Ballou went to the hospital about ten o’clock in the forenoon to have his arm looked after, and was informed that it was done up so well he could wait better than other wounded men, for an amputation. It was late in the afternoon and dark when the surgeon requested the sergeant to get upon the table and have his arm taken off. A request to save the arm, if possible, caused the surgeon to make another examination, but he gave an opinion that it was impossible to save it. Ballou, however, insisted upon making the attempt, and the surgeon proceeded to its attention. He found about two and one-half inches of the large bone in the wrist was shot away and the small bone broken. With the cavity made by the wound stuffed with lint and bound up, the suffering that night from pain endured by Ballou was terrible. He fortunately found Surgeon Willets, One Hundred and Seventy-Sixth New York, the next morning, who carefully removed the lint bandage, examined the wound, set the broken small bone, put on a board support, and attended to it assiduously. Sergeant Ballou saved his arm and hand, but the hand has never been of use to him. In refusing to submit to the loss of his arm it is probable that he also saved his life, for with one exception every man died who suffered amputation. Hot weather and no ice to be had, gangrene would set in and the patients die. With the exception of a short allowance of food, the wounded were well treated while in the enemy’s hands.
On Saturday, June 27th, the enlisted men having been paroled, searched, and deprived of everything except what they wore, a haversack and woollen blanket, started at five o’clock in the afternoon to march for the Union lines. A curious feature in regard to prisoners taken at Brashear is that no negro soldiers were among them. As no one saw or heard of any cut-throat actions towards colored Federal soldiers, the supposition would seem to be well founded that they all escaped capture in some way through the wooded swamps. Sergeant Turner, on receiving his parole, was complimented by an officer who represented the United States forces, and thanked for what defence the detachment made. The tenor of his remarks were, that if there had been a few more men like those composing the Forty-Second detachment the shameful surprise, with attendant consequences, would not have occurred.
The following men were left at Brashear, not able to march:
First-Sergeant George W. Ballou, Company B, wounded.
Private George E. Clark, Company B, wounded.
Private George H. Fisher, Company B, sick.
Private Patrick Fitzpatrick, Company E, sick.
Many convalescent and sick soldiers not able to march, but anxious to reach the Federal lines, attempted to do so with their fellow prisoners. They gave out day by day from sickness and fatigue, caused by debility, hot weather, poor drinking-water, and insufficient rations, to be left on the line of march all the way from Brashear to New Orleans. Quite a number died. Many were in a condition to give out any moment, but pluckily kept on and reached the lines. From the Forty-Second detachment Privates Henry Richardson and George Kingsbury, Company B, sickened, and had to be left at Thibodeaux.
At first the Confederate guard was a company of Louisiana infantry, soon relieved by a cavalry company of Colonel Baylor’s Rangers, because the infantry could not keep up with the impatient prisoners. The guard was kind in treatment of their charge, while under strict orders to shoot down any man attempting to straggle or forage without permission. As to rations, they fared no better than their prisoners, making an equal division of what they had so long as it lasted.