June 26th. There has been considerable bombarding on account of the Rebels opening some big guns but I think they are doing very little damage. We heard today that the enemy had driven our army across the Potomac and that there was great excitement throughout the North. We hoped that the report was false. Last night I was detailed to go on picket being sent out to an outpost about a mile from the reserve. We stood by our arms most of the time during the night. There was brisk firing on our left most of the time.
June 27th. Came in from picket. Today we have been reviewed by Major-General Banks. He made a temperance speech to us. I think he must have thought that we were getting to be a pretty tough set of fellows. I don't see how he could have thought that, when we couldn't get very much that was intoxicating, only what quinine and whiskey Uncle Sam issued to us when we came off picket duty.
July 1st. There has been a reason for my not writing in my diary for a few days. We had been told that no soldiers' letters could be sent North and I put off writing in the hope that I could record the fall of Port Hudson, that Rebel stronghold. But still the siege drags slowly along. Our days were divided between rifle-pits and making assaults. The Rebs hold their rifle-pits and we advance ours or remain stationary.
Yesterday, the colored brigade carried a hill by storm and have held it, notwithstanding the great effort made by the Rebels to regain it.
Sunday, July 3rd. We attacked Port Hudson at two points, but were beaten back with great loss. The battle still rages and omnipotence still holds the scales in equal balance. This is the 25th day of the siege and we are still stuck outside the fortification. Last Sunday we made a general assault. We got inside three times but for want of support were driven back. Men were mowed down on our right and left. It was a wonder how I was preserved. I have been in four direct assaults on the breastworks, several skirmishes and yet not a scratch have I received.
Port Hudson, July 4th, (Independence Day). As will be seen, we had no idea of what was going on more than two hundred miles up the river at Vicksburg, or fifteen hundred miles at Gettysburg. At Vicksburg, General Grant was quietly smoking a cigar when he wrote a dispatch to be sent to Cairo to be telegraphed to the General-in-Chief at Washington: "The enemy surrendered this morning. The only terms allowed is their parole as prisoners of war." The same dispatch was sent to General Banks at Port Hudson. At Gettysburg the army of the Potomac had inflicted a terrible defeat on the army of Northern Virginia. I really believe this is the quietest Fourth of July I have ever spent. Verily, I don't believe there has been as much powder burnt here as in New York or Boston. I wouldn't wonder if Hartford, with its swarm of boys, could outstrip us. Every little while there's a bang, a boom and the bursting of a shell, for we must keep the besieged from falling asleep and stir them up occasionally. Now, the music is becoming lively, the gunboats and the batteries are pitching in and altogether we are giving them Hail Columbia to the tune of Yankee Doodle.
For the last few days we have been in a very enviable frame of mind, expecting every day to be ordered to participate in another assault. Yet the orders have not come and each night we have drawn a long breath and exclaimed one more day of grace. Well, so it is, but while we are getting uneasy for another fight we have a strong desire to avoid charging on the breastworks again. We've been in three, and some of us four, assaults on the Rebel fortifications and each time we have been driven back. The first of July, General Banks made us a great speech promising us that within three days we would be inside Port Hudson. But the three days have passed and those rascally Rebs still persist in keeping us outside. Although the fortifications could probably be stormed any day, yet why waste life when a few days will bring them to terms, as they are now reduced to mule-meat and a little corn. Deserters are coming in fast. One day as many as one hundred and fifty came in saying they couldn't stand mule-meat any longer. Now I am feeling sure that within a few days I shall be able to record the fall of Port Hudson. The Rebel cavalry are harassing our rear ranks continually. They made a dash day before yesterday from Clinton and Jackson, striking here and there and picked up some stragglers and foraging parties. A few days ago they dashed into Springfield Landing whence we draw our stores and ammunition, but our cavalry went after them so quick they found pressing business in other quarters.
On the other side of the Mississippi quite a force came down. They attacked Donaldsonville a few days ago demanding the surrender of the town. But the provost-marshal gathered his forces together, amounting to about two hundred, got inside his fortifications, and waited for them to come up. The contest was kept up from midnight till daylight, when the sudden appearance of a gunboat caused the Rebels to skedaddle, leaving about one hundred dead on the field, several hundred wounded and one hundred and twenty prisoners.
Now comes the great surprise of all. The confounded Rebs have got into Bayou Boeuf and destroyed or captured the whole of our division property stored there. Tents, baggage, knapsacks, company and regimental books are all gone. At this time we were all as poor as Job's turkey. Except for the rags that cover us, we haven't a thing. Were I where I could, I should like to write a letter to the Soldiers' Aid Society for some handkerchiefs, being reduced to the last shift, i. e., the flap of an old shirt picked up in a deserted mansion. Word comes from Colonel Bissell that he is slowly improving. We are hoping that we shall see him with us again soon. But I really believe his sickness saved his life, for it is doubtful if he would have come out alive from the charge the regiment made on the 27th of May. We are having some very hot weather. We are spending most of our time on picket duty and trying to keep cool. You would have laughed if you could have seen us at our meals wearing only shirt and drawers, while our comical colored boy, Adam, squatted down on the ground in front of us keeping the flies off. This Adam was a corker. Speaking of Mobile one day, he said: "Reckon you couldn't fool dis nigga much in dat town. Specks he was born and raised dar. Yah! yah! yah! Reckon he knows ebry hole dar from de liquor-shops to de meeting houses."
July 8th. The dispatch from General Grant, previously referred to, was received. The booming of big guns, the cheers and shouts of the Union soldiers and the strains of patriotic music informed the besieged that something had happened. They were not slow to find out the cause of the rejoicing. General Gardner sent a flag of truce to General Banks to know if the report that Vicksburg had surrendered was true and received in reply a copy of General Grant's dispatch. The garrison had done their duty with brave fortitude. The Union lines were already in some places up to their breastworks. Starvation was staring them in the face and taking everything into consideration about the only thing for General Gardner to do was to surrender. Should the expected charge have been made by the "stormers" it would have been a waste of life for they could not expect to hold their position.