"A Band of Conspirators Are At Work"
One man's account of the Siege of Port Hudson in words that are just as meaningful today as the day that were written.
On June 28, 1863, Sergeant Austin C. Wellington of Co. F, 38th Massachusetts finally found the time to write his former employer back in Boston. Wellington had lived through some of the toughest fighting as part of Major General Nathaniel P. Banks and his Army of the Gulf’s continued investment of Port Hudson.
The young sergeant did his best to take stock of the previous month’s fighting beginning on May 25, when the regiment was assigned to support a battery and protect pioneers constructing a bridge across Bayou Sara. On that day a Confederate shell exploded over the company leaving “a sight which carried sadness and a shudder to all.”
“There among us lay our comrades J. H. Dame in the cold sleep of death, horribly mangled by a fragment of the shell. One other man was slightly wounded in the head. We returned to the Regt. but in doing so, we went into mourning.”
Three days later the 38th Massachusetts rejoined its brigade for an early morning assault against well-entrenched Confederates. Wellington describes what followed:
Joined the Brigade, and immediately went forward through a piece of woods, as reserve to the regiments which were skirmishing, and driving the enemy before them. It was evident that the rebs were awake, for the shell and bullets fell all around. Soon we came to the edge of the woods, the enemy’s works being distant about four hundred yards. The ground in this intervening space was covered with felled trees, laying every which way. Ravines were in abundance making the round very uneven.
Battery F had taken a new position a short distance to the left from our Brigade. The Captain of the Battery came galloping up, saying give me support, I am all alone. The 38th soon took position behind said battery but there was no fear of the enemys approach when the shells were being sent forward so lively. Meantime skirmishers had advanced through the opening and some of them had gained a position right under their works. The rebel fire had slackened, and from observation in trees, Genl. Paine concluded that the point was weak for but few rebels could see behind the works.
It was the 12th Maine that occupied the opening as skirmishers. It was ordered, as soon as the 12th Maine move up to storm the works, the 38th will charge in support. The task was undertaken, but repulse and disaster was ours. The 38th was rushing forward and had got about midway in the opening when a terrific storm of leaden hail over took us and we were ordered to lie down. This order was not given untill it was evident that a large force was behind the works. There could I see the gallant Maine boys standing on the verge of the parapet taking aim at the rebs who were up ready to meet them. On both sides the men fell in numbers. Promptly did we respond to the order ‘lie down,’ but not untill the Maine boys had done the same.
I hugged the ground closer on this occasion than ever I did before. For two hours I lay in this position, the scorching rays of the sun playing in full force upon me, and not daring to rise up. Several tons of lead during this time passed over and about me. Many were killed and wounded near me. I could stand it no longer, and up I jumped when there was an apparent lull in the storm, and made tracks for a ravine near by. I didn’t get hit, but ‘zip’ went the bullets when my dusty statue passed from view. I went but to find my friend Tucker very low from the wound received It was evident that he was in great pain, but he bore it calmly. After much labor I got him from the field, and on the way to the hospital.
Another valued comrade C. E. Neal, I met being borne from the field seriously wounded. In his pain he looked up and smiled saying, ‘I wish I was going back with you’ but when I told him he would work the faster in dealing out the bullets to make up for his absence, he said, ‘All right,’ and appeared to be content. Soon after we fell down the Lt. Col arose in response to the call of Genl Paine, and when about to sit down was shot through the heart. It was now afternoon and the storm had died away. Night came, and quiet reigned. We lay in the same position during the night.
The following day both sides agreed to a flag of truce to gather and bury the many bodies that littered the ground.
The 38th Massachusetts remained in “positions in ravines before the enemy’s earthworks” for three days before being relieved.
Two weeks later the regiment prepared for another assault against Confederate earthworks around Port Hudson.
The first line had gone forward with a yell and then came the bullets. Forward second line, and immediately we found our selves going forward into the very jaws of death. The men fell by the dozen, the ground seemed as if it was being ploughed, so thick came the hail. The artillery was at work ‘rightly smartly,’ and now and then it would speak forth with redoubled fury. We went forward until a large number had fallen, the General included, and were close on the works, when a lull came, we could do no more, we had met with a repulse. Some of the reserve in coming up, come but to be slaughtered.
As I look at it now, it was a poorly contrived scheme. Instead of causing the men to charge forward across an open field, interspersed with a few ravines, over a quarter of a mile in length, and where the rebs had perfect range on us from behind their works, together with a cross fire, a large force could have gone forward through ravines, under cover of darkness, and got very near the works, and thus had avoided the disaster, which attended us in going across the field. By having the men so near the works, a dash could have been made to take the works, without having the troops charge across an open field to be mowed down, and with a better prospect of being successful in the undertaking.
Well, we lay near the works during the day, exposed to the sun. Time wore away slowly. At night we worked our way back to the rear, and found our old quarters. In the morning at roll call eleven comrades did not answer to their names, and our Lieut was also absent. The casualties in F were four killed, twelve wounded and two stunned. In the Regt. ninety two killed, wounded and missing. Some regiments suffered less, others met with greater loss. It was a sad issue.
I cannot describe the feelings that I had, and the same were manifested by all, for a number of days after the battle. Sergt Angell had been with the Co. but a few days. He came from the hospital to be killed. My mess mate Morris was shot through the head. Noble young man! He died facing the foe. I feel his loss greatly for we had become very much attached to each other, have messed together for a long time.
Monday and Tuesday nights will never be forgotten. Under cover of darkness, we were successful in recovering from the battle field, the bodies of Angell, Champney and Morris. We buried them side by side and the spot is marked by a fence of boughs. Suitable headboards are also erected. In the stillness of midnight we paid the last tribute and rights to our fallen comrades.
Before signing off, Wellington attempted to explain what he had experienced in a way that cut to the very core of why he had volunteered to join the army the previous summer.
“You may perhaps ask me, do you like fighting? What are your feelings when under fire? I will answer that I would much prefer to be relieved from such work in the future. But in this case there is provocation. A band of conspirators are at work endeavoring to upset the liberties emanating from our glorious republic. And when such is the case, I will abolish all fear and dread and go to the rescue of that ‘torn and battered’ flag, the symbol of said republic.”
Confederates finally surrendered Port Hudson on July 9, 1863.
Wellington’s words are as meaningful today as they were in 1863.
Well done. Great account and tie in to today. Let us hope this band of conspirators don’t need to be taken down in the same manner as those in the 1860s
Port Hudson was the portion of the Battle of Vicksburg that was fought in Louisiana, not Mississippi, thus under the command of newly appointed Major General Nathaniel Banks who replaced General Benjamin (Beast) Butler, the man who had established control of New Orleans and the Mississippi corridor as far as the capital, Baton Rouge, with notable assistance from the Louisiana Guard, consisting largely of French speaking African-American Creoles, descended from Haitian refugees to New Orleans, often via Havana. His authority relied on treating former slaves as 'contraband' as a means to establish and maintain control of the country's largest port. Banks had been governor of Massachusetts when he was promoted to general and had little military experience. His job in New Orleans was to transition from treating ex-slaves as contraband to recognizing and utilizing their new status as emancipated slaves and educable soldiers. His first week on the job Confederates in Galveston captured the federal troops who had thought they were in charge of Texas. His wife was quite good at organizing and staging elaborate and rather formal balls with music furnished by African-American musicians. Banks himself was somewhat less effective at organizing and staging military sieges with contraband soldiers led by African-American officers fluent in French. His Red River Campaign flopped in 1864 and he was replaced by General Canby as Head of the Department of the Gulf. The Louisiana Guard and its Corps d'Afrique, meanwhile, had determined that there were white officers capable of commanding 'contraband' troops and some of that capacity was demonstrated in the Siege of Mobile in 1865 which went quite smoothly compared to the Siege of Port Hudson.