The story of the Thirty Eighth regiment of Massachusetts volunteers

by George Whitefield Powers

About noon, the army advanced in line of battle. The march was through a cane-field, the canes still standing; and, as they grew thick and strong, it became difficult to keep a proper line. The batteries were moving up to the front, shelling the woods as they advanced; and a rifle-shot would be occasionally heard. After marching in this manner for two miles, the regiment halted for several hours, the cannonading still continuing. Between three and four o’clock, it was announced that the fighting was over for the day, and the march was resumed; but it was suddenly stopped by the breaking out afresh of the artillery fire. Laying on the ground, in cover of the standing cane, the regiment witnessed a sharp artillery engagement. A large sugar-mill had been set on fire, and the flames soon spread to the surrounding cabins. The bursting of the shells, the volumes of flame and smoke issuing from the mill, the sharp crack of the rifle, the galloping of aides over the field with orders, and the bayonets glistening over the tops of the canes, as the brigades manœuvred over the field, was a new experience to the Thirty Eighth. The firing lasted about an hour, gradually ceasing as the batteries fell back; the position of the enemy having been ascertained, and the object of the reconnoissance accomplished. Fires were not allowed, and the men went without their coffee for the first time. Equipments were kept on, and the regiment bivouacked in rear of the stacks. In the evening, a call was made for sharpshooters, to pick off the gunners of the Diana, in case she should come down the bayou; and the number required reported at once. There was no alarm during the night; and, in the morning, the army again moved forward. A bridge had been thrown across the bayou; and the third brigade crossed over, a rebel shell occasionally dropping into the water, near the bridge, sending up the spray, and facilitating the passage of the troops, who wished to do their fighting on firmer footing than the swaying bridge afforded. The artillery were at work on both sides, and it was evident that the long-expected battle was about to take place. While the brigade was getting into line, after having crossed the stream, Gens. Banks and Emory passed, and were enthusiastically greeted. Marching up the road, the brigade filed into a cane-field, in front of a portion of the rebel works. The Thirty First Massachusetts were in advance, the Thirty Eighth following, with the Fifty Third Massachusetts in the rear; and the One Hundred and Fifty Sixth New York were sent toward the woods on the right. The cane-field was intersected with broad, deep ditches, now entirely dry, and their sides lined with blackberry bushes. The Thirty First deployed, and moved forward in a skirmish-line part way across the field, until within gunshot of the enemy, when they halted in one of the ditches, and began to fire, the rebels occasionally returning the shots, from behind the breastworks. The Thirty First retained their position during the forenoon, losing two or three men, who were carried to the rear past the Thirty Eighth, which remained in reserve, picking blackberries, watching the fight, and getting their ears accustomed to the shrieking of the shells, and the discharges of musketry. The One Hundred and Fifty Sixth, in the meantime, were gradually working their way into the woods on the right flank. The heavy firing on the left of the bayou told that the other brigades were also at work.

While Gen. Emory’s division and Weitzel’s brigade were confronting the enemy, and engaging their attention, Gen. Grover’s division, which had crossed the country through the La Fourche district, was endeavoring to come in their rear, and thus, by enclosing them between the two portions of the army, cut off all retreat, and compel the surrender of the entire force. Having this programme in view, it had not been the policy of Gen. Banks to bring on a decisive engagement until Grover was ready to “close up the bag.”

At noon, the ammunition of the Thirty First being exhausted, it was relieved by the Thirty Eighth. This position was occupied but a short time, when the order was given to advance. Keeping the exact distance they had been taught in the drill, in a well-dressed skirmish-line, the men moved steadily toward the breastworks. The right companies soon began to receive shots from the woods; but were instructed not to fire in that direction, as the One Hundred and Fifty Sixth held the position. Obeying orders, they reserved their fire until the rebel gunners were plainly visible working the batteries. A piece of cane had been left standing near the line of earthworks; and, just before the advance reached its cover, the rebels opened a rapid fire of artillery and musketry. The skirmishers were ordered to lie down, while the shells and bullets screamed and whistled over their heads. But they were not long inactive. Taking advantage of stumps, ditches, furrows, and canes, they poured a rapid fire into the enemy’s works. The gunners were picked off; and the traditional “officer on the white horse” was made an especial target. While the right was more exposed to the enemy’s rifles, the centre and left suffered from their artillery, the colors being a prominent mark. Color-corporal Trow, of Co. D, was instantly killed by a solid shot; and Cos. A and G suffered particularly from shells. By one of these explosions, Capt. Gault, of the former company, had his leg badly shattered, and died in a few hours; and a number of men were wounded.

The battle lasted all day on both sides of the bayou. As evening drew near, the ammunition of the Thirty Eighth gave out. Many men had fired all their cartridges, and were trying to borrow from their more economical comrades. The wounded had been taken to the rear, and attended to in the field hospital. And now the Fifty Third came forward, and relieved the Thirty Eighth, who fell slowly back under fire, till they reached the place selected as quarters for the night,—a deep, dry ditch, near the centre of the field. Of course, no fires were allowed, and supper was made of hard-tack and water.

Partly filling the ditch with dry canes, and wrapping their blankets around them, with the guns of the First Maine Battery beating the tattoo a few yards in their rear, the men laid down, their rifles by their side, and their equipments on, ready to fall in line at the first call. Contrary to expectation, there was no alarm during the night. In the morning, a portion of the field was searched for missing men. Thomas W. Hevey, of Co. I, was brought in, dead, the stem of his pipe firmly fixed in his teeth. He was smoking when struck by the fatal bullet, and fell on his face. During the engagement, six had been killed and thirty wounded, a complete list of whom will be found in another portion of the work.

Fires were now allowed to be built, and coffee made, after which the regiment moved forward in line. The Fifty Third had remained all night in the front, and its flags were seen near the works, the regiment advancing in line of battle. The Thirty First was also moving on. All was quiet behind the earthworks; and soon the report came that the enemy had evacuated their position during the night, and were in full retreat, three miles ahead. At this time, Gen. Grover was supposed by the men to have cut off all retreat, and the army was in excellent spirits at the anticipated bagging of the whole force; but it was soon learned that a hole had been left, and the slippery foe had wriggled out of it. Crossing the cane-field, the Thirty Eighth entered the rebel works. The killed and wounded men had been removed; but the dead horses scattered about gave evidence of the accuracy of the aim of the brigade in this its maiden fight. The camp-fires were still smouldering inside of the works; and the remains of the hasty breakfast of roasted ears of corn gave proof that the rebels had not been long gone. Skirmishing a short distance through the woods beyond the fortifications, and finding no enemy, the line was again formed, and the brigade moved by the flank along the road, until further progress was stopped by a bayou, the bridge over which had been partially burned, and was still smoking. Here an abandoned caisson was fished out of the stream, the first trophy of the victory. The pioneers soon repaired the bridge, and the column passed over, and halted a few hours, while the artillery and the wagon-train were brought across.

It was a long, weary march that Gen. Dick Taylor led the Army of the Gulf through this country of bayous and plantations. Had there been a respectable cavalry force in the department, but few of those who fought behind the fortifications of Bisland would have reached Alexandria; but the delay caused in repairing bridges prevented the Union army from coming up with its foes, and the majority of them escaped, although completely demoralized, and deprived of the power of acting on the offensive for several months.

An amusing incident occurred just after the march was resumed. A man, apparently dressed in gray uniform, was seen running across a corn-field, toward the woods. Although many hundred yards off, a number of rifles were instantly levelled at him, and the minies went whistling on their errand. He hesitated for a moment, and then started on again, when another discharge took place, and the dust was seen to fly near the mark. Making frantic signals, he faced about, and came toward the road. A nearer inspection proved him to be a harmless contraband, in the usual plantation suit. The fighting of the day before had given the boys a liking for the sound of their Enfields; and probably every gun in the regiment would have been discharged if the fugitive had not halted. The poor fellow, no doubt, came to the conclusion that the “day of jubilo” had not yet come.

The heat was intense during the day, and the men suffered a good deal from the dust and from thirst, many falling out. But the commanding general wished to give the enemy no time to throw up intrenchments. Barely halting long enough for a hasty lunch at noon, the column pushed on. A little while after dark, the brigade passed through the pretty town of Franklin, and went into camp in a cane-field. No one thought of pitching tents, or of cooking coffee. Eating a few hard-tack, and washing it down with bayou water, each man (except the unfortunate guard) selected as level a furrow as convenient, spread his rubber, and was soon enjoying a well-earned rest. Just as the men had settled themselves for the night, the commissary sergeant came around with the information that fresh meat was ready. It was left on the ground for the benefit of the plantation hands who swarmed in the rear of the army.

Wednesday morning, April 18, the column moved at six o’clock, the Thirty Eighth on the right of the brigade, making the marching a little easier than on the day before. The country through which the army was now passing, known as the Tèche district, was considered the richest part of Louisiana previous to the war. Unable to get their crops to market, the sugar and cotton-houses were filled to overflowing. Large herds of cattle fed in the pastures, and the woods were full of hogs. Nearly all of the able-bodied young men were in the Confederate army; and, at the approach of the Union troops, the old planters fled to the woods in many instances, and hid until the column had passed by. No Northern soldiers had been seen in that country before; and the long lines of infantry, the numerous batteries, and the immense wagon-trains, were a source of never-ending wonder to the crowds of slaves, who flocked to the roadsides and climbed the fences to see Massa Linkum’s boys. “Bress de Lord! We’se been lookin’ for ye dese twenty years, and ye’re come at last!” exclaimed one well-developed old lady, who, clothed in a very short dress, very full pants, and a broad plantation hat, had mounted on a high rail-fence to get a good look at the Yankee soldiers. These poor people had little means with which to gratify their desires to serve those whom they looked upon as friends; yet many of them baked their last mess of meal into corn-cake for the hungry soldiers. The few white men that were seen in this region had the appearance of having just thrown the musket aside, with the intention of resuming it again as soon as the army passed, and before the sun-marks should fade from their faces.