We found the state of affairs very different from the tranquil neighborhood we had just left. The surrounding country was infested with guerilla bands, and in the jail were a number of rebel prisoners who had been captured in recent raids. The latter received from the town's people very gratifying evidences of sympathy, and in their comparatively comfortable quarters and abundant supplies, afforded a vivid contrast to the treatment received by our boys at Libby and Andersonville. Intimations were quite freely expressed by the prisoners, that it would soon be their turn to guard us, and we were cautioned by friends and from headquarters, to be on the alert against a sudden attack.
In the evening of the day after our arrival, we were startled by a steamer approaching the landing, all ablaze from stem to stern. The entire heavens seemed illuminated, and it was light enough to read with perfect distinctness. The vessel was loaded with some three thousand bales of cotton, and in landing at a point above us, the sparks from the torch—a wire basket filled with pine knots, and used after dark to light the loading and unloading of the steamer,—had set the cotton afire. The motion of the boat and the perfect draft from her construction, peculiar to nearly all the river craft, of course spread the fire with great rapidity, and only time sufficient to rescue the passengers was permitted. The vessel had a large freight of live stock, some of which escaped to the shore, but most of them perished in the flames, filling the air with their piteous cries. Our particular attention was devoted to our magazine, which was an ordinary store-house and exposed to some danger. Its contents we could ill afford to lose, and their explosion would have made a sensation much more lively than even the destruction of the steamer.
At Plaquemine an earth work had been begun by our predecessors. It had four bastions, one of which was assigned to each of our companies. The work was in a very incomplete condition, and except for the protection its parapets afforded, would have been of little service. In the threatening aspect of affairs, it became necessary at once to strengthen our defences, and under the direction of an engineer, details of men were set to work, and rapid progress was made.
In April parties of guerillas and rebel cavalry began to operate actively in our neighborhood. At Indian village, a few miles distant, they burned a large quantity of cotton which had been sent in by planters or collected by speculators and was awaiting transportation. About the same time mysterious signals attracted our attention, and soon afterwards, we learned that a body of two hundred cavalry had crossed the Grand River for the purpose of attacking us. The men slept on their arms, but no attack was made. A week or two afterwards, I had occasion to visit New Orleans on business, and while there, heard a report that Plaquemine was "gobbled up" by the rebs. I was very much relieved on my return to find everything in statu quo. A raid shortly afterwards on Bayou Goula, a trading station a few miles below us, resulted in the destruction of considerable property, but no captures of prisoners.
On the twenty-fifth of May the gunboat 54 was sent to cruise on the river in our neighborhood, and it was a welcome reinforcement to our meagre numbers. On the twenty-eighth of May the cavalry of General Banks' army, on their retreat from the Red River campaign, passed through our post, remaining a short time in our vicinity. Among them was a portion of our Third Rhode Island cavalry, and no hospitality ever gave greater mutual pleasure than that which it happened to be in our power then to grant. The record of that expedition has been made up, but there was a refreshing vigor of opinion expressed by our comrades on the conduct of the campaign. It seemed very lonesome when they left us with their commander,—a true Rhode Island son, General Richard Arnold.
Orders came within a day or two from Baton Rouge, announcing a change of commanders of the district, and exhorting us to get everything into fighting trim. It will be remembered that flushed with victory the rebels followed close on the heels of our retreating army, and were only stopped by the lack of transportation to cross the swift and deep Atchafalaya. Of course we presumed that they would make one of their raids down the coast and attack our post, and that of Donaldsonville, some twenty-five miles below us, which constituted the principal defences on the river above New Orleans. With the exception, however, of capturing some of our cavalry pickets, we had no trouble, though frequent alarms kept us on the qui vive. The beating of the long roll was almost a nightly occurrence; but this I should not mention to soldiers, except to refer to an instance that now occurs to me in illustration of the rapidity of the mind's movements, at times. About the time of the raids on our northern frontier, I was dreaming one night, that we were ordered home to proceed at once to some point on the border. All the movements incident to our departure and to our arrival at Providence, were before me. As we were halting in Exchange Place, with arms stacked and men at ease, I obtained permission to go home for a few minutes to see my family, to whom our arrival was unknown, when the roll sounded and we were ordered to fall in at once to take the train. Of course my momentary disappointment was great, but awaking at once, I heard the drums beating in reality, and jumping into my outer clothing and equipments in a hurry, was shortly at the head of my company. The first beat of the drum had probably started the long train of the incidents of my dream.
In the midst of these rumors of attack, in the early morning of August sixth we were visited by a body of mounted men. They dashed upon our pickets who made a bold stand for a short time, and then scattered for shelter. The rebels had caught sight of the officer, Lieutenant Aldrich, who was in command, and while a part of them made diligent search for him, the remainder dashed into the town, and breaking up into parties raided through the various streets, firing somewhat indiscriminately, but more particularly at what contrabands they saw. The companies gathered in their respective bastions in the fort and we expected a lively brush. As I stood on the parapet and got a glimpse of a portion of the enemy, I ached to let fly a shell, but the danger to innocent parties was too great to warrant it just then. I remember how amused I was at the appearance of the gallant commander of our post, as with his coat and equipments in one hand, and holding up his nether garments in the other, he was "double-quicking" from his quarters in the town, to a place of security in the fort. After that he selected quarters nearer us. The prospect of being "gobbled up" was not particularly gratifying, especially to a "nigger" officer, who had Fort Pillow memories in mind. As the rebels did not appear to be coming to us, a strong detachment under command of Adjutant Barney, was sent out to exchange compliments with them. They gave us no opportunity for this but soon retired, taking with them three of our pickets and one cavalry vidette, whom they had captured. We understood, the next day, that our men were shot in cold blood. Lieutenant Aldrich and the men with him, escaped through the friendly protection of an osage orange grove. Others swam the bayou and thus escaped certain death if captured. I think our casualties were, besides those taken prisoners, one man killed and a few wounded. Several of the rebels were said to be killed or wounded. One of the latter, as I remember, fell into our hands and was taken into our hospital where he received the same treatment as our own men. Subsequently we learned that the raiders were Texans who boastfully declared that they asked no quarter and gave none. In consequence of the barbarous treatment of our men who were captured, some correspondence passed between General Banks and the rebel commander, but I am not aware that it amounted to anything.
On the eighteenth a scouting party of our cavalry was captured at Grand River and others in our nearer vicinity. We had two companies of the Thirty-first Massachusetts mounted infantry, who were used for for vidette duty. Being more exposed than our own pickets they suffered occasionally from guerilla raids. One party of them, were surprised, probably in consequence of a little carelessness, and were taken prisoners with the exception of one man who was killed. He had been a prisoner once before and fought to the last, rather than again be captured. On some of these occasions the attacking parties were dressed in our own uniform.
All through the country back of us, a constant and merciless conscription was going on, sweeping in all able-bodied men between fifteen and sixty years of age. Of course many refugees and occasional deserters came within our lines.
During the fall of 1864 we received from time to time re-inforcements of several companies of colored engineer troops, who continued the work on the fort which we had begun. Though not comparing with the arduousness of field service, our duties were by no means slight. It must be remembered that we were in a semi-tropical country, where to an unacclimated person the climate was itself almost a deadly foe. The extreme heat produced a lethargy that was depressing in the extreme. In a few days of dry weather, the surface of the ground would be baked like a brick. Then would come most violent storms, converting the soil into a quagmire and covering it with water like a lake. At this time, there was no small danger of falling into the deep ditches with which the fields were intersected, for drainage. In this way I lost one man of my company. Of course it will be understood how productive of disease would be the malaria from the soil and the adjacent swamps. Our men with all their buoyancy of disposition, had not the resolute will of white men, when attacked by sickness, and would succumb with fatal rapidity. As captain of a company, my most arduous duty, when not on special duty or detached service, was as field officer of the day. This necessitated the visiting occasionally during the day and night, our videttes and picket posts which were stationed on the roads into the country, and at intersecting points in the fields; and also crossing in a skiff the Mississippi river, to visit the troops stationed to guard a telegraph station on the other side. This station was in the vicinity of a famous duelling ground,—a path not far from the river bank,—to which in former days the young bloods of the town and vicinity would resort to repair their wounded honor, according to the rules of the code. As we were too short of horses always to furnish a mounted orderly, the officer of the day would at night, have to make his rounds alone. There was a picturesqueness in those rides in the solemn hours of the night, a portion of the way over deserted plantations where the weeds would be as high as one's head on horseback, the path at times fringing the borders of swamps where the moss hung in festoons from the stately cypress trees, past lonely negro cabins, where sometimes I heard the inmates in the midnight hours, singing some plaintive melody in tones the most subdued.