Each division commander was to provide his own means for passing the ditch. These, for the most part, consisted of cotton bags, fascines, and planks borne by detachments of men, furnished by detail or by volunteering.

It will be observed that no time was fixed for the assault of either column nor any provision made to render the several attacks simultaneous. Moreover, although the order wound up with the emphatic declaration that "Port Hudson must be taken to-morrow," an impression prevailed in the minds of at least two of the division commanders that there were still to be reconnoissances by the engineers, and that upon the results of these would depend the selection of the points of attack.

There were no roads along the front or rear of the investing army, and the only means by which communication was maintained between the left, the centre, and the right was either by wide detours or through dense and unknown woods and thickets. It was impossible to see the troops in front or rear or on either flank. On no part of the line was either division in sight of the other.

The forest approached within 250 yards at the nearest point on Weitzel's front, within 450 yards on Grover's, within 500 yards on Augur's, and within 1,200 yards on Sherman's front. The field to be passed over was partly the cleared land of the plantations, crossed by fences and hedges, but in many places, especially on Augur's approach, the timber had been recently felled, and, lying thick upon the ground, made a truly formidable obstacle.

The morning of the 27th of May broke bright and beautiful. As the early twilight began to open out along the entire front the artillery began a furious cannonade. At first the Confederate guns replied with spirit, but it soon became apparent that they were overweighted, and, moreover, the necessity of husbanding their scanty store of ammunition no doubt impressed itself upon the minds of the Confederate commanders.

About six o'clock, when Weitzel judged that the movement on the left must be well advanced, he put his columns in motion through the dense forest in his front, forming his command, as far as the nature of the ground admitted, in column of brigades, Dwight's brigade under Van Zandt leading, followed by Weitzel's brigade under Thomas. Paine formed his division in two lines in support, his own brigade under Fearing in front, and Gooding's in reserve. The Confederate skirmishers and outposts continued to occupy the forest and the ravines on this part of their front, and the first hour was spent in pressing them back behind their entrenchments. Then Thomas moved forward through Van Zandt's intervals, and deploying from right to left the 160th New York, Lieutenant-Colonel Van Petter; 8th Vermont, Lieutenant-Colonel Dillingham; 12th Connecticut, Lieutenant-Colonel Peck; and 75th New York, Lieutenant-Colonel Babcock, advanced to the attack. Van Zandt, owing to the inequalities of the ground and the difficulty of finding the way, drifted somewhat toward the right. Thereupon Paine, finding his front uncovered, moved forward into the interval. Then began what has been aptly termed a "huge bushwack."

Until within three days a part of the Confederate lines in front of Weitzel had not been fortified at all, the defence resting on the great natural difficulties of the approaches no less than of the ground to be held; but in the interval Gardner had taken notice of the indications that pointed to an advance in this quarter, and had caused light breastworks to be constructed in all haste. This the great trees that covered the hill rendered an easy task. On the morning of the 27th of May, therefore, the works that Weitzel was called upon to attack consisted mainly of big logs on the crest and following the contour of the hill, rendered almost unapproachable by the felled timber that choked the ravines. Thus, while Weitzel's men could not even see their enemy, they were themselves unable to move beyond the cover of the hollows and the timber without offering an easy mark for a destructive fire of small-arms, as well as of grape, shell, shrapnel, and canister. When finally, after climbing over hills, logs, and fallen trees, and forcing the ravines filled with tangled brush and branches, Weitzel had driven the Confederates into their works, he held the ridge about two hundred yards distant from the position to be attacked.

Paine's position at this time was to the right and rear of battery No. 6, as shown on the map; Weitzel and Dwight were on the same crest near batteries 3, 4, and 5. The pioneers worked like beavers to open the roads as fast as the infantry advanced, and with such skill and zeal that hardly had the infantry formed upon the crest than the guns of Duryea, Bainbridge, Nims, Haley, and Carruth unlimbered and opened fire by their side.

At length Thomas succeeded in making his way across the rivulet known as Little Sandy Creek, and, working gradually forward, began to fortify with logs the hill on the right, afterward known as Fort Babcock, in honor of the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 75th New York.

To support Weitzel's movement, Grover sent the 159th New York, Lieutenant-Colonel Burt, and the 25th Connecticut by a wide detour to the right to make their way in on Paine's left. Taking advantage of the protection afforded by the ravine, at the bottom of which ran or rather trickled Sandy Creek, these regiments, after the most difficult and exhausting scramble through the brush and over the fallen timber, came to the base of a steep bluff, near the position afterward occupied by siege battery No. 6. This, although the works directly opposite were as yet light, was naturally one of the ugliest approaches on the whole front. In spite of every exertion, it took the 159th an hour to move half a mile. Just before reaching the foot of the hill over which they were to charge, they captured a Confederate captain and six skirmishers, who lay concealed in the ravine, cut off by the advance and unable to retire. So crooked and obscure was the path and so difficult was it to see any thing, even a few feet ahead, that the officers had to stand at every little turning to tell the men which way to go. At last the regiment formed, and, with a rush, began the assault of the bluff, but they could get no farther than the crest, where they were met by a destructive flank fire from the Confederate riflemen. There, within thirty yards of the works, the men sought shelter.

To try the effect of a diversion, Grover put in the 12th Maine, supported by the remaining fragment of his division, reduced to the 13th and 25th Connecticut, against the partly exposed west face of the bastion that formed the left of the finished portion of the Confederate earthworks. The point of attack is shown at X. and XI., and the position whence Grover moved at 1 and 7.

After the first attack on the right had wellnigh spent itself, and when its renewal, in conjunction with an advance on the centre and left, was momentarily expected, Dwight thought to create a diversion and at the same time to develop the strength and position of the Confederates toward their extreme left, where their lines bent back to rest on the river, and to this end he ordered Nelson to put in his two colored regiments. This portion of the Confederate line occupied the nearly level crest of a steep bluff that completely dominates the low ground by the sugar-house, where the telegraph road crosses Foster's Creek. Over this ground the colored troops had to advance unsupported to receive their first fire. The bridge had been burned when the Confederates retired to their works. Directly in front of the crest, and somewhat below it, a rugged bluff stands a little apart, projecting boldly from the main height with a sharp return to the right, so as to form a natural outwork of great strength, practically inaccessible save by the road that winds along the bottom of the little rivulet at the foot of the almost perpendicular flank. This detached ridge is about four hundred yards in length. It was held by six companies of the 39th Mississippi regiment, under Colonel W. B. Shelby, while behind, in the positions of land batteries III. and IV., were planted six field pieces, and still farther back on the water front the columbiads of Whitfield and Seawell, mounted on traversing carriages, stood ready to rake the road with their 8-inch and 10-inch shell and shrapnel.

Shortly after seven o'clock, Nelson sent in the 1st Louisiana Native Guards, under Lieutenant-Colonel Bassett, in column, to force the crossing of the creek. The 3d Louisiana Native Guards followed in close support. Just before the head of the column came near the creek, the movement was perceived by the Confederates, who immediately opened on the negroes a sharp fire of musketry from the rifle-pits on the detached bluff; at the same moment the field guns opened with shell and shrapnel from the ridge behind, and as the men struggled on through the creek and up the farther bank they became exposed to the enfilade fire of the columbiads. When, in mounting the narrow gorge that led up the hill, the head of the column, necessarily shattered as it was by this concentrated fire, had gained a point within about two hundred yards of the crest, suddenly every gun opened on them with canister. This was more than any man could stand. Bassett's men gave back in disorder on their supports, then in the act of crossing the creek, and the whole column retired in confusion to its position near the sugar-house on the north bank. Here both regiments were soon re-formed and again moved forward in good order, anticipating instructions to renew the attack; yet none came, and, in fact, the attack was not renewed, although the contemporary accounts, some of them even official, distinctly speak of repeated charges. In this abortive attempt, Captain Andrew Cailloux and Second Lieutenant John H. Crowder, of the 1st regiment, were instantly killed. Cailloux, who is said to have been a free man of color, although all the officers of his race were at that time supposed to have resigned, fell at the head of the leading company of his regiment, while gallantly cheering on his men. The 1st regiment lost, in this brief engagement, 2 officers, and 24 men killed and 79 wounded—in all, 105. The 3d, being far less exposed, as well as for a shorter time, lost 1 officer and 5 men killed, and 1 officer wounded—in all, 7.

The morning was drawing out when these movements were well spent, and the advanced positions simply held without further effort to go forward. The hour may have been about ten o'clock. Grover, Paine, and Weitzel listened in vain for any sounds of musketry on their left to indicate that either Augur or Sherman was at work, yet no sound came from that quarter save the steady pounding of the Union artillery. Now Weitzel believed that, by pursuing his advance in what might be called skirmishing order and working his way gradually forward from the vantage-ground of Fort Babcock, he might gain, without great addition to his losses, already heavy, a foothold on the high ground held by the Confederate left; yet of the character of the defences of this part of the line Weitzel knew but little, and of the nature of the ground behind these defences and the direction of the roads, neither he nor any one in the Union army knew any thing. The topography of the ground in sight afforded the only indication of what might be expected farther on, and this was confusing and difficult to the last degree. Weitzel had, therefore, strong reason for believing that his difficulties, instead of ending with the capture of the Confederate works, might be only beginning. There was, of course, the chance that the garrison along the whole front might throw down their arms or abandon their defences the moment they should find themselves taken in reverse at any point, for it was known that they had no reserves to be reckoned with after breaking through the line. Grover had been ordered to support either the right or the left, or to attempt to make his way into the works, as circumstances might suggest. This last he had tried, and failed to accomplish. On his left there was no attack to support. When riding toward the right he met Weitzel, who, although commanding the right wing, was his junior in rank as well as in experience, Grover gave Weitzel the counsel of prudence, and Weitzel fell in with these views. The two commanders decided to ask fresh orders or to wait for an assault on the centre or left before renewing the attack on the right.

All this time Augur stood ready, his division formed and all in perfect order, waiting for the word from Banks, who made his headquarters close at hand, and who, in his turn, waited for the sound of Sherman's musketry as the signal to put in Augur. With Sherman, Augur was in connection along the front, although not in easy communication. The precise nature of the causes that held Sherman back it is, even now, impossible to state, nor would it be easy, in the absence of the facts, to form a conjecture that should seem to be altogether probable and at the same time reasonable. The most plausible surmise seems to be that Sherman supposed he was to wait for the engineers to indicate the point of attack, and that he himself did not choose to go beyond what he conceived to be his orders to precipitate a movement whose propriety he doubted. Sherman was an officer of the old army, of wide experience, favorably known and highly esteemed throughout the service for his intelligence, his character, and his courage. He was known as one of the most distinguished of the chosen commanders of the few light batteries that the government of the United States had thought itself able to afford in the days before the war. Before coming to Louisiana he had commanded a department, and in that capacity had carried to a successful conclusion the brilliant operations that gave Hilton Head and Port Royal to the forces of the Union. Neither in his previous history was there any thing to his personal discredit as a man or as a soldier. The fact remains, however, account for it how we may, that when about noon, greatly disturbed by the check on the right, and still more by the silence on the left, Banks himself rode almost unattended to Sherman's headquarters, he found Sherman at luncheon in his tent, surrounded by his staff, while in front the division lay idly under arms, without orders. Hot words passed, the precise nature of which has not been recorded, and Banks returned to his headquarters determined to replace Sherman by the chief-of-staff of the department. The roads had not yet been opened, and it was half-past one before these orders could be given. Andrews rode directly to the left, accompanied by but a single aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Fiske. When he came on the ground he found Sherman's division deployed, and Sherman himself on horseback at the head of his men, ready to lead them forward. Then Andrews, with great propriety, deferred the delivery of the orders placing him in command, and, after a few words, at a quarter past two Sherman moved to the assault. Andrews remained to witness the operation.

Nickerson moved forward on the right in column of regiments. The 14th Maine, deployed as skirmishers, covered his front, followed by the 24th Maine, 177th New York, and 165th New York in line. After emerging from the woods, Nickerson's right flank rested on the road that runs past Slaughter's house, near the position of battery 16.

Dow formed the left of the division and of the army. He advanced at the same time as Nickerson, and in like order, his right resting near the position of battery 17 and his left near Gibbons's house, marked as the position of battery 18. The 6th Michigan led the brigade, followed by the 15th New Hampshire, 26th Connecticut, and 128th New York.

In the interval between the two brigades rode Sherman, surrounded by his whole staff and followed by his escort.

No sooner had the line emerged from among the trees than the Confederates opened upon every part of it, as it came in sight, a galling fire of musketry and artillery. At first the troops moved forward steadily and at a good pace, but as they drew nearer to the enemy and the musketry fire grew hotter, their progress was delayed and their formation somewhat broken by four successive and parallel lines of fence that had to be thrown down and crossed. Once clear of the young corn, they found themselves entangled with the abatis that covered and protected the immediate front of the Confederate works on this part of the line. This had been set on fire by the exploding shells, and the smoke and flame now added to the difficulty of the movement. Here the men suffered greatly, many being shot down in the act of climbing the great trunks of the fallen trees, and many more having their clothing reduced to tatters and almost torn from their bodies in the attempt to force their way through the entangled branches. The impetus was soon lost, the men lay down or sought cover; numbers of Dow's men made their way to the grove in their rear and into the gully on their left; of Nickerson's, many drifted singly and in groups into the ravine on their right.

Long before this, indeed within a few minutes after the line first marched out from the wood, Sherman had fallen from his horse, severely wounded in the leg; under the vigorous fire concentrated upon this large group of horsemen in plain sight of the Confederates and in easy range, two of his staff officers had shared the same fate. This would have brought Dow to the command of the division; but nearly at the same instant Dow himself was wounded and went to the rear, and so the command fell to Nickerson, who was with his brigade, and, in the confusion of the moment, was not notified. Thus, for some interval, there was no one to give orders for fresh dispositions among the regiments. Many officers had fallen; the 128th New York had lost its colonel, Cowles; the 165th New York, at last holding the front of Nickerson's line, had lost two successive commanders, Abel Smith and Carr, both wounded, the former mortally, while standing by the colors. To retire was now only less difficult than to advance. Nickerson's men, lying down, held their ground until after dark; but Dow's, being nearer the cover of the woods, fell back to their first position.

Andrews now took command of the division, in virtue of the written orders of the commanding general, and prepared to obey whatever fresh instructions he might receive. None came; there was, indeed, nothing to be done but to withdraw and to restore order.

As soon as Banks heard the rattle of the musketry on the left, and saw from the smoke of the Confederate guns that Sherman was engaged, he ordered Augur forward. Augur, as has been said, had been ready and waiting all day. His arrangements were to make the attack with Chapin's brigade, deployed across the Plains Store road, and to support it with Dudley's, held in reserve under cover of one of the high and thick hedges of the Osage orange that crossed and divided the fields on the right of the road. Chapin's front was covered by the skirmishers of the 21st Maine; immediately in their rear were to march the storming column of two hundred volunteers, under Lieutenant-Colonel O'Brien, of the 48th Massachusetts. The stormers rested and waited for the word in the point of the wood on the left of the Plains Store road, nearly opposite the position of battery 13. Half their number carried cotton bags and fascines to fill the ditch. On the right of the road the 116th New York was deployed; on its left the 49th Massachusetts, closely supported by the 48th Massachusetts, the 2d Louisiana, of Dudley's brigade, and the reserve of the 21st Maine.

O'Brien shook hands with the officer who brought him the last order, and, turning to his men, who were lying or sitting near by, some on their cotton bags, others on the ground, said in the coolest and most business-like manner: "Pick up your bundles, and come on!" The movement of the stormers was the signal for the whole line. A truly magnificent sight was the advance of these battalions, with their colors flying and borne sturdily toward the front; yet not for long. Hardly had the movement begun when the whole force —officers, men, colors, stormers, and all,—found themselves inextricably entangled in the dense abatis under a fierce and continuous discharge of musketry and a withering cross-fire of artillery. Besides the field-pieces bearing directly down the road, two 24-pounders poured upon their flank a storm of missiles of all sorts, with fragments of railway bars and broken chains for grape, and rusty nails and the rakings of the scrap-heap for canister. No part of the column ever passed beyond the abatis, nor was it even possible to extricate the troops in any order without greatly adding to the list of casualties, already of a fearful length. Banks was all for putting Dudley over the open ground directly in his front, but, before any thing could be done, came the bad news from the left, and at last it was clear to the most persistent that the day was miserably lost. When, after nightfall, the division commanders reported at headquarters, among the wounded under the great trees, it was known that the result was even worse than the first accounts.

The attempt had failed without inflicting serious loss upon the enemy, save in ammunition expended, yet at a fearful cost to the Union army. When the list came to be made up, it was found that 15 officers and 278 men had been killed, 90 officers and 1,455 men wounded, 2 officers and 155 men missing, making the total killed 293, total wounded 1,545, total missing 157, and an aggregate of 1,995. Of the missing, many were unquestionably dead. Worse than all, if possible, the confidence that but a few hours before had run so high, was rudely shaken. It was long indeed before the men felt the same faith in themselves, and it is but the plain truth to say that their reliance on the department commander never quite returned.

The heavy loss in killed and wounded taxed to the utmost the skill and untiring exertions of the surgeons, who soon found their preparations and supplies exceeded by the unlooked-for demand upon them. All night long on that 27th of May the stretcher-bearers were engaged in removing the wounded to the field-hospitals in the rear. These were soon filled to overflowing, and many rested under the shelter of the trees. Hither, too, came large numbers of men not too badly hurt to be able to walk, and to all the tired troops the whole night was rendered dismal to the last degree by the groans of their suffering comrades mingled everywhere, the wounded with the well, the dying with the dead.

Among the killed were: Colonel Edward P. Chapin, of the 116th New York; Colonel Davis S. Cowles, of the 128th New York; Lieutenant-Colonel William L. Rodman, of the 38th Massachusetts; Lieutenant-Colonel James O'Brien, of the 48th Massachusetts; Captain John B. Hubbard, Assistant Adjutant-General, of Weitzel's brigade; Lieutenant Ladislas A. Wrotnowkski, Topographical Engineer on Weitzel's staff. Lieutenant-Colonels Oliver W. Lull, of the 8th New Hampshire, and Abel Smith, Jr., of the 165th New York, were mortally wounded. The long list of the wounded included Brigadier-General Thomas W. Sherman, Brigadier-General Neal Dow, Colonel Richard E. Holcomb, of the 1st Louisiana; Colonel Thomas S. Clark, of the 6th Michigan; Colonel William F. Bartlett, of the 49th Massachusetts; Major Gouverneur Carr, of the 165th New York.

Farragut's ships and mortar-boats, which had been harassing the garrison at intervals, day and night, for more than ten days, joined hotly in the bombardment, but ceased firing, by arrangement, as soon as the land batteries slackened. The fire of the fleet, especially that of the mortars, was very annoying to the garrison, especially at first, yet the actual casualties were not great.

The Confederate losses during the assault are not known. In Beall's brigade all the losses up to the 1st of June numbered 68 killed, 194 wounded, and 96 missing; together, 358; most of these must have been incurred on the 27th of May. The Confederate artillery was soon so completely overpowered, that it became nearly useless, save when the Union guns were masked by the advance of assaulting columns. Three 24-pounders were dismounted, and of these one was completely disabled.

With the result of this day the last hope of a junction between the armies of Banks and Grant vanished. It may therefore be convenient to retrace our steps a little in order to note the closing incidents of this strange chapter of well-laid plans by fortune brought to naught.

Dwight returned from his visit to Grant on the 22d of May, and reported to Banks in person at his headquarters with Grover on Thompson's Creek. In his account of what had taken place, Dwight confirmed the idea Banks had already derived from the despatch that Dwight had sent from Grand Gulf on the 16th, before he had seen Grant. Grant would send 5,000 men, Dwight reported, but Banks was not to wait for them. Practically this had no effect whatever upon the campaign, and how little impression it made upon the mind of Grant himself may be seen from his description, written in 1884, of his interview with Dwight. It was the morning of the 17th of May and Grant's troops were standing on the eastern bank of the Big Black ready to force the passage of the river:

"While the troops were standing as here described, an officer from Banks's staff came up and presented me with a letter from General Halleck, dated the 11th of May. It had been sent by way of New Orleans to Banks to forward to me. He ordered me to return to Grand Gulf and to co-operate from there with Banks against Port Hudson, and then to return with our combined forces to besiege Vicksburg. I told the officer that the order came too late and that Halleck would not give it then if he knew our position. The bearer of the despatch insisted that I ought to obey the order, and was giving arguments to support his position when I heard great cheering to the right of our line, and looking in that direction, saw Lawler, in his shirt-sleeves, leading a charge upon the enemy. I immediately mounted my horse and rode in the direction of the charge, and saw no more of the officer who delivered the despatch, I think not even to this day."(1)

Here two mistakes are perhaps worth noting as curious rather than important: Dwight was not a member of Banks's staff, and the letter from Halleck, dated the 11th of May, which General Grant strangely supposed to have come by way of New Orleans, was, in fact, Halleck's telegram of that date, sent by way of Memphis, which Dwight had picked up as he passed through Grand Gulf, after Grant had cut his communications. Dwight's account may have taken color from his hopes, yet the course of events gives some reason to think he may have had warrant for his belief.

On the 19th of May Grant's first assault of Vicksburg was repulsed with a loss of 942. Three days later he delivered his second assault, which likewise failed, at a cost of 3,199 killed, wounded, and missing. This drove him to the siege and put him in need of more troops; yet when, on the 25th of May, he sat down to write to Banks, it was with the purpose of offering to send down a force of 8,000 or 10,000 men if Banks could now provide the means of transport. But even while Grant wrote, word came that Johnston was gathering in his rear; and so the whole thing was one more given up, and instead, once again he called on Banks for help; and this time he sent down two large steamers, the Forest Queen and Moderator, to fetch the men. But Banks had now no men to spare; he too was cast for a siege; he could only echo the entreaty and send back the steamboats empty as they came. So the affair ended.

(1) "Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant," vol. I., p. 524.

CHAPTER XVII. THE FOURTEENTH OF JUNE.

Banks at once ordered up the ammunition and the stores from the depot at Riley's, near the headquarters of the day before, and early on the morning of the 28th of May established his headquarters in tents at Young's, in rear of the centre, and began his arrangements to reduce Port Hudson by gradual approaches. At six o'clock in the morning he sent a flag of truce to Gardner, from Augur's front on the Plains Store road, bearing a request for a suspension of hostilities until two o'clock in the afternoon, to permit the removal of the dead and wounded. To this Gardner at once refused to agree unless Banks would agree to withdraw at all points to a distance of eight hundred yards. He also demanded that the fleet should drop down out of range. Banks was unable to consent. A long correspondence followed, twelve letters in all, crossing and recrossing, to the utter confusion of time. At length, shortly after half-past three o'clock, Banks received Gardner's assent to an armistice extending till seven o'clock. The conditions were that the besiegers were to send to the lines of the defence, by unarmed parties, such of the Confederate killed as remained unburied, and such of their wounded as had not already been picked up and sent to the rear. The killed and wounded of the Union army, lying between their lines and the Confederate works, were to be cared for in the same way.

Arnold was ordered to bring up the siege train, manned by the 1st Indiana heavy artillery, and Houston to provide entrenching tools and siege materials. When all the siege artillery was in position there were forty pieces, of which six were 8-inch sea-coast howitzers on siege carriages, eight 24-pounders, seven 30-pounder Parrotts, four 6-inch rifles, four 9-inch Dahlgren guns, four 8-inch mortars, three 10-inch mortars, and four 13-inch mortars. To these were added twelve light batteries of sixty pieces, namely, six 6-pounder Sawyer rifles, two 10-pounder Parrotts, twenty-six 12-pounder Napoleons, two 12-pounder howitzers, twelve 3-inch rifles, and twelve 20-pounder Parrotts. The Dahlgren guns were served by a detachment of fifty-one men from the Richmond and seventeen from the Essex, under Lieutenant-Commander Edward Terry, with Ensign Robert P. Swann, Ensign E. M. Shepard, and Master's Mates William R. Cox and Edmund L. Bourne for chiefs of the gun divisions.

In the course of the next few days the eight regiments that had been left on the Teche and the Atchafalaya rejoined the army before Port Hudson, coming by way of Brashear, Algiers, and the river. This gave to the cavalry under Grierson one more regiment, the 41st Massachusetts, now mounted, and henceforth known as the 3d Massachusetts cavalry, the three troops of the old 2d battalion being merged in it; Weitzel got back the 114th New York; Paine recovered the 4th Massachusetts and the 16th New Hampshire of Ingraham's brigade, now practically broken up; and Grover the 22d Maine and 90th New York of Dwight's brigade, the 52d Massachusetts of Kimball's, and the 26th Maine of Birge's, while losing the 41st Massachusetts by its conversion into a mounted regiment. The 16th New Hampshire, however, had suffered so severely during its six week's confinement in the heart of the pestilential swamp that it was reduced to a mere skeleton, without strength either numerical or physical. It was easy to see that officers and men alike were suffering from some aggravated form of hepatic disorder, due to malarial poison. Many were added to the sick-report every day. Few that went to the regimental or general hospital returned to duty, while of the men called well all were yellow, emaciated, and restless, or so drowsy that the sentries were found asleep on their posts at noonday. This unfortunate regiment was therefore taken from the front and set to guard the general ammunition depot, near headquarters. Without being once engaged in battle, so that it had not a single gunshot wound to report, the 16th New Hampshire suffered a loss by disease during its seven months' service in Louisiana of 5 officers and 216 men—in all, 221; and nearly the whole of this occurred in the last two months. This regiment was replaced in Paine's division by the 28th Connecticut, from Pensacola.

Dwight was now given the command of Sherman's division, relieving Nickerson, who had assumed command the morning after the assault of the 27th. Dow being disabled by his wounds, his brigade fell to Clark. The 2d Louisiana was transferred from Dudley's brigade to Chapin's, bringing Charles J. Paine in command. Halbert E. Paine's division was withdrawn from the earlier formation of the right wing under Weitzel, and was established in position on Grover's left, covering the Jackson road and the second position of Duryea's battery at No. 12. Grover was placed in command, from the afternoon of the 27th, of the whole right wing, but Dwight's brigade, under Morgan, remained with Weitzel as part of a temporary division under his command, Thomas retaining the command of Weitzel's brigade. Finally, the 162d New York and the 175th New York were temporarily taken from Paine and lent to Dwight, who, directly after the 14th of June, united them with the 28th Maine of Sherman's division to form a temporary 2d brigade. At the same time he transferred the 6th Michigan to Nickerson's brigade, evidently meaning to take the command of the 1st brigade from Clark; but these arrangements were promptly set aside by orders from headquarters. The left wing, comprising Augur's division and Sherman's, now Dwight's, was placed under the command of Augur.

Along the whole front the troops now held substantially the advanced positions they had gained on the 27th of May. This shortened the line, and, as it was on the whole better arranged and the connections and communications better, Augur took ground a little to the left and held, with Charles J. Paine's brigade, a part of the field that had been in Sherman's front on the 27th; while Dwight, in closing up and drawing in his left flank, moved nearer to the river and covered the road leading in a southerly direction from the Confederate works around the eastern slope of Mount Pleasant and past Troth's house.

The cavalry, being of no further use to the divisions, but rather an encumbrance upon them, was massed, under Grierson, behind the centre, and assigned to the duty of guarding the rear, the depots, and the communications against the incursions of the Confederate cavalry, under Logan, known to be hovering between Port Hudson and Clinton, and supposed to be from 1,500 to 2,000 strong. Logan's actual force at this time was about 1,200 effective. Grierson had about 1,700, including his own regiment, the 6th Illinois, the 7th Illinois, Colonel Edward Prince, a detachment of the 1st Louisiana, the 3d Massachusetts cavalry, and the 14th New York.

As fast as the engineers were able to survey the ground and the working parties to open the roads, Arnold and Houston chose with great care the positions for the siege batteries, and heavy details were soon at work upon them, as well as upon the long line of rifle-pits, connecting the batteries and practically forming the first parallel of the siege works. The positions of some of these batteries, especially on the left, were afterward changed; but as finally constructed and mounted, they began at the north, near the position of the colored regiments on the right bank of Foster's Creek, and extended, at a distance from the Confederate works varying from six hundred to twelve hundred yards, to the Mount Pleasant road, across which was planted siege battery No. 21. The first position of siege battery No. 20 is marked "old 20," and the three formidable batteries on the extreme left, Nos. 22, 23, and 24, were not established till later, the attack of the Confederate works in their front being at first left to the guns of the fleet. Two epaulements for field artillery were thrown up on either side of the road at Foster's Creek to command the passage of the stream, but no siege guns were mounted there. The extreme right of the siege batteries was at No. 2.

While all eyes were turned upon the siege works and every nerve strained for their completion, Logan's presence in the rear, though at no time so hurtful as might fairly have been expected, was a continual source of anxiety and annoyance. To find out just what force he had and what he was about, Grierson moved toward Clinton on the morning of the 3d of June with the 6th and 7th Illinois, the old 2d Massachusetts battalion, now merged in the 3d, a squadron of the 1st Louisiana, two companies of the 4th Wisconsin, mounted, and one section of Nims's battery. Grierson took the road by Jackson, and, when within three miles of that place, sent Godfrey, with 200 men of the Massachusetts and Louisiana cavalry, to ride through the town, while the main column went direct to Clinton. Godfrey pushing on briskly through Jackson, captured and paroled, after the useless fashion of the time, a number of prisoners, and rejoined the column two miles beyond. When eight miles west of Clinton, Grierson heard a report that Logan had gone that morning toward Port Hudson, but pushing on toward Clinton, after crossing the Comite Grierson found Logan's advance and drove it back on the main body, strongly posted on Pretty Creek. A three hours' engagement followed, resulting in Grierson's retirement to Port Hudson, with a loss of 8 killed, 28 wounded, and 15 missing; 3 of the dead and 7 of the wounded falling into the hands of the enemy. Logan reports his loss as 20 killed and wounded, and claims 40 prisoners. Among the killed, unfortunately, was the young cavalry officer, Lieutenant Solon A. Perkins, of the 3d Massachusetts, whose skill and daring had commended itself to the notice of Weitzel during the early operations in La Fourche, and whose long service without proper rank had drawn out the remark: "This Perkins is a splendid officer, and he deserves promotion as much as any officer I ever saw."

Banks determined to chastise Logan for this; accordingly, at daylight on the morning of the 5th of June, Paine took his old brigade under Fearing, with the 52d Massachusetts, the 91st New York, and two sections of Duryea's battery, and preceded by Grierson's cavalry, marched on Clinton by way of Olive Branch and the plank road. That night Paine encamped at Redwood creek; on the 6th he made a short march to the Comite, distant nine miles from his objective, and there halted till midnight. Then, after a night march, the whole force entered Clinton at daylight on the morning of the 7th, only to find that Logan, forewarned, had gone toward Jackson. Then Paine countermarched to the Comite, and, remaining till sunset, marched that evening to Redwood, and, there going into bivouac, at two o'clock on the following morning, the 8th of June, returned to the lines before Port Hudson. On this fruitless expedition the men and horses suffered severely from the heat, and there were many cases of sunstroke.

By the 1st of June the artillery and the sharp-shooters of the besieged had obtained so complete a mastery over the guns of the defenders, that on the whole line these were practically silent, if not silenced. In part, no doubt, this is to be ascribed to a desire on the part of the Confederate artillerists to reserve their ammunition for the emergency, yet something was also due to the effect of the Union fire, by which, in the first week, twelve heavy guns were disabled. The 10-inch columbiad in water battery 4 was dismounted at long range. This gun was known to the Union soldiers, and perhaps to the Confederates first, as the "Lady Davis," and great was the dread awakened by the deep bass roar and the wail of the big shells as they came rolling down the narrow pathway, or searched the ravines where the men lay massed. The fire of the navy also did great damage among the heavy batteries along the river front. When the siege batteries were nearly ready, on the evening of the 10th of June, Banks ordered a feigned attack at midnight by skirmishers along the whole front, for the purpose, as stated in the orders, "of harassing the enemy, of inducing him to bring forward and expose his artillery, acquiring a knowledge of the ground before the enemy's front, and of favoring the operations of pioneers who may be sent forward to remove obstructions if necessary." None of these objects can be said to have been accomplished, nor was any advantage gained beyond a slight advance of the lines, at a single point on Weitzel's front, by the 131st New York. The full loss in this night's reconnoissance is not known; in Weitzel's own brigade, there were 2 killed, 41 wounded, 6 missing—in all, 49; in Morgan's, a partial report accounts for 12 wounded and 59 missing, including two companies of the 22d Maine that became entangled and for the moment lost in the ravines.

On the evening of the 12th of June, all arrangements being nearly complete, Banks ordered a vigorous bombardment to be begun the next morning. Punctually at a quarter past eleven on the morning of the 13th, every gun and mortar of the army and navy that could be brought to bear upon the defences of Port Hudson opened fire, and for a full hour kept up a furious cannonade, limited only by the endurance of the Union guns and gunners, for the Confederates hardly ventured to reply, save at first feebly. When the bombardment was at its fiercest, more than one shell in a second could be seen to fall and explode within the narrow circuit of the defences visible from the headquarters on the field. The defenders had three heavy guns dismounted during the day, yet suffered little loss in men, for long before this nearly the whole garrison had accustomed themselves to take refuge in their caves and "gopher-holes" at the first sound of Union cannon, and to await its cessation as a signal to return to their posts at the parapet. They were not always so fortunate, however, for more than once it happened that three or four men were killed by the bursting of a single shell.

When the hour was up the cannonade ended as suddenly as it began, and profound silence followed close on the intolerable din. Then Banks sent a flag of truce summoning the garrison to surrender in these words: "Respect for the usages of war and a desire to avoid unnecessary sacrifice of life, impose on me the necessity of formally demanding the surrender of the garrison at Port Hudson. I am not unconscious, in making this demand, that the garrison is capable of continuing a vigorous and gallant defence. The events that have transpired during the pending investment exhibit in the commander and garrison a spirit of constancy and courage that, in a different cause, would be universally regarded as heroism. But I know the extremities to which they are reduced. . . . I desire to avoid unnecessary slaughter, and I therefore demand the immediate surrender of the garrison, subject to such conditions only as are imposed by the usages of civilized warfare." To this Gardner replied: "My duty requires me to defend this position, and therefore I decline to surrender."

In the evening the generals of division met in council at headquarters. In anticipation of what was to come, Dudley had already been ordered to send the 50th Massachusetts, and Charles J. Paine the 48th Massachusetts, to Dwight; and Dudley himself, with the 161st and 174th New York, was to report to Grover. This left under Augur's immediate command only five regiments of his division, namely, one, the 30th Massachusetts, of Dudley's brigade, and four of C. J. Paine's. Shortly before midnight a general assault was ordered for the following morning. At a quarter before three Augur was to open a heavy fire of artillery on his front, following it up half and hour later by a feigned attack of skirmishers. Dwight was to take two regiments, and, with a pair of suborned deserters for guides, was to try and find an entrance on the extreme left of the works near the river. But the main attack was to be made by Grover on the priest-cap. Its position is shown on the map at XV. and XVI., and the approach was to be from the cover of the winding ravine, near the second position of Duryea's battery, at No. 12. The artillery cross-fire at this point was to begin at three o'clock, and was to cease at a signal from Grover. At half-past three the skirmishers were to attack. The general formation of each of the two columns of attack had been settled in orders issued from headquarters on the morning of the 11th. Each column, assumed to consist of about 2,000 men, was to be preceded and covered by 300 skirmishers; immediately behind the skirmishers were to be seventy pioneers, carrying thirty-five axes, eighteen shovels, ten pickaxes, two handsaws, and two hatchets; next was to come the forlorn hope, or storming party, of 300 men, each carrying a bag stuffed with cotton; following the stormers, thirty-four men were to carry the balks and chesses to form a bridge over the ditch, in order to facilitate the passage of the artillery, as well as of the men. The main assaulting column was to follow, marching in lines-of-battle, as far as the nature of the ground would permit, which, as it happened, was not far. The field-artillery was to go with the assaulting column, each battery having its own pioneers. To the cavalry, meanwhile, was assigned the work of picketing and protecting the rear, as well as of holding the telegraph road leading out of Port Hudson toward Bayou Sara, by which it was thought the garrison might attempt to escape, on finding their lines broken through, or even to avoid the blow.

As was the uniform custom during the siege, all watches at division and brigade headquarters were set at nine o'clock, by a telegraphic signal, to agree with the adjutant-general's watch.

These final orders for the assault bear the hour of 11.30 P.M. This was in fact the moment at which the earliest copies were sent out by the aides-de-camp, held in readiness to carry them. There were seven hundred and fifty words to be written, and eleven o'clock had already passed when the council listened to the reading of the drafts and broke up. From the lateness of the hour, as well as from the distance and the darkness of the night, it resulted that one o'clock came before the last orders were in the hands of the troops that were to execute them. Many arrangements had still to be carried out and many of the detachments had still to be moved over long distances and by obscure ways to the positions assigned to them. In some instances all that was left of the night was thus occupied, and it was broad daylight before every thing was ready.

A dense fog prevailed in the early morning of Sunday, the 14th of June, strangely veiling, while it lasted, even the sound of the big guns, so that in places it was unheard a hundred yards in the rear. Punctually at the hour fixed the cannonade opened. It was an hour later, that is to say, about four o'clock, when the first attack was launched.

For the chief assault Grover had selected Paine's division and had placed the main body of his own division with Weitzel's brigade, in close support. Paine determined to lead the attack himself. Across his front as skirmishers he deployed the 4th Wisconsin, now again dismounted, and the 8th New Hampshire. The 4th Massachusetts was told off to follow the skirmishers with improvised hand-grenades made of 6-pounder shells. Next the 38th Massachusetts and the 53d Massachusetts were formed into line of battle. At the head of the infantry column the 31st Massachusetts, likewise deployed, carried cotton bags, to fill the ditch. The rest of Gooding's brigade followed, next came Fearing's, then Ingraham's under Ferris. In rear of the column was posted the artillery under Nims. At a point on the crest of the ridge, ninety yards distant from the left face of the priest-cap, Paine's advance was checked. Then Paine, who had previously gone along the front of every regiment, addressing to each a few words of encouragement and of preparation for the work, passed afoot from the head of the column to the front of the skirmish line, and exerting to the full his sonorous voice, gave the order to the column to go in. At the word the men sprang forward, but almost as they did so, the Confederates behind the parapet in their front, with fairly level aim and at point-blank range, poured upon the head of the column a deadly volley. Many fell at this first discharge; among them, unfortunately, the gallant Paine himself, his thigh crushed by a rifle-ball. Some of the men of the 4th Wisconsin, of the 8th New Hampshire, and of the 38th Massachusetts gained the ditch, and a few even climbed the parapet, but of these nearly all were made prisoners. The rear of the column fell back to the cover of the hill, while all those who had gained the crest were forced to lie there, exposed to a pitiless fire of sharp-shooters and the scarcely more endurable rays of the burning sun of Louisiana, until night came and brought relief. In this unfortunate situation the sufferings of the wounded became so unbearable, and appealed so powerfully to the sympathy of their comrades, that many lives were risked and some lost in the attempt to alleviate the thirst, at least, of these unfortunates. Two men, quite of their own accord, took a stretcher and tried to reach the point where Paine lay, but the attempt was unsuccessful, and cost both of them their lives. These heroes were E. P. Woods, of Company E of the 8th New Hampshire, and John Williams, of Company D, 31st Massachusetts. Not less nobly, Patrick H. Cohen, a private soldier of the 133d New York, himself lying wounded on the crest, cut a canteen from the body of a dead comrade and by lengthening the strap succeeded in tossing it within reach of his commander; this probably preserved Paine's life, for unquestionably many of the more seriously hurt perished from the heat and from thirst on that fatal day.

It was about seven o'clock, and the fog had lifted, when Weitzel advanced to the attack on the right face of the priest-cap. The 12th Connecticut and the 75th New York of his own brigade were deployed to the left and right as skirmishers to cover the head of the column. Two regiments of Morgan's brigade, loosely deployed, followed the skirmishers; in front the 91st New York, with hand-grenades, and next the 24th Connecticut, every man carrying two cotton bags weighing thirty pounds each. In immediate support came the remainder of Weitzel's brigade in column of regiments, in the order of the 8th Vermont, 114th New York, and 160th New York, followed by the main body of Morgan's brigade. Birge was in close support and Kimball in reserve. Finally, in the rear, as in Paine's formation, was massed the artillery of the division.

Toward the north face of the priest-cap the only approach was by the irregular, but for some distance nearly parallel, gorges cut out from the soft clay of the bluffs by Sandy Creek and one of its many arms. The course of these streams being toward the Confederate works, the hollows grew deeper and the banks steeper at every step. At most the creeks were but two hundred yards apart, and the ridge that separated them gave barely standing room. Within a few feet of the breastworks the smaller stream and its ravine turned sharply toward the north and served as a formidable ditch until they united with the main stream and ravine below the bastion. This larger ravine near its outlet and the natural ditch throughout its length were mercilessly swept by the fire of the bastion on the right, the breastworks in front, and the priest-cap on the left. The smaller ravine led toward the south to the crest from which Paine's men had recoiled, where their wounded and their dead lay thick, and behind which the survivors were striving to restore the broken formations.

Weitzel therefore chose the main ravine. Bearing to the right from the Jackson road, the men moved by the flank and cautiously, availing themselves of every advantage afforded by the timber or the irregularities of the ground, until they gained the crest of the ridge at points varying from twenty to fifty yards from the works near the north face of the priest-cap. In advancing to this position the column came under fire immediately on filing out of the ravine and the wood in front of the position of battery No. 9. Then, in such order as they happened to be, they went forward with a rush and a cheer, but beyond the crest indicated few men ever got. From this position it was impossible either to advance or retire until night came.

At the appointed hour Dwight sent the 6th Michigan, under Lieutenant-Colonel Bacon, and the 14th Maine, to the extreme left to make an attempt in that quarter, the arrangements for which have been already described; but either Dwight gave his orders too late, or the column mistook the path, or else the difficulties were really greater than they had been thought beforehand or than they afterward seemed, for nothing came of it. Then recalling this detachment to the Mount Pleasant road, Dwight tried to advance in that direction. The 14th Maine was sent back to its brigade and Clark deployed his own regiment, the 6th Michigan, as skirmishers, supported by the 128th New York, now commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel James Smith. The 15th New Hampshire followed and the 26th Connecticut, under Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph Selden, brought up the rear. These two regiments went forward in column of companies on the main road, but as the Confederates immediately opened a heavy artillery fire upon the head of the column, they had to be deployed. However, the ground, becoming rapidly narrower, did not long permit of an advance in this order, so that it soon became necessary to ploy once more into column. About 350 yards from the outer works the Mount Pleasant road enters and crosses a deep ravine by a bridge, then destroyed. The hollow was completely choked with felled timber, through which, under the heavy fire of musketry and artillery, it was impossible to pass; so here the brigade stayed till night enabled it to retire. Nickerson's brigade supported the movement of Clark's, but without becoming seriously engaged. Thus ended Dwight's movement. It can hardly be described as an assault, as an attack, or even as a serious attempt to accomplish any valuable result; yet indirectly it was the means of gaining, and at a small cost, the greatest, if not the only real, advantage achieved that day, for it gave Dwight possession of the rough hill, the true value of which was then for the first time perceived, and on the commanding position of its northern slope was presently mounted the powerful array of siege artillery that overlooked and controlled the land and water batteries on the lower flank of the Confederate defences.

Of Augur's operations in the centre, it is enough to say that the feigned attack assigned to this portion of the line was made briskly and in good order at the appointed time, without great loss.

The result of the day may be summed up as a bloody repulse; beholding the death and maiming of so many of the bravest and best of the officers and men, the repulse may be even termed a disaster. In the whole service of the Nineteenth Army Corps darkness never shut in upon a gloomier field. Men went about their work in a silence stronger than words.

On this day 21 officers and 182 men were killed, 72 officers and 1,245 men were wounded, 6 officers and 180 men missing; besides these, 13 were reported as killed, 84 as wounded, and 2 as missing without distinguishing between officers and men, thus making a total of 216 killed, 1,401 wounded, 188 missing—in all, 1,805. Among the wounded many had received mortal hurts, while of the missing, as in the first assault, many must now be set down as killed.

Paine, as we have seen, fell seriously hurt while in the very act of leading his division to the assault. Nine days earlier he had received his well-earned commission as brigadier-general. He was taken to New Orleans, and there nine days later, at the Hotel de Dieu Hospital, after vain efforts to save the limb, the surgeons performed amputation of the thigh. A few days after the surrender, in order to avoid the increasing dangers of the climate, Paine was sent to his home in Wisconsin on the captured steamer Starlight, the first boat that ascended the river. Thus the Nineteenth Corps lost one of its bravest and most promising commanders, one who had earned the affection of his men, not less through respect for his character than by his unfailing sympathy and care in all situations, and who was commended to the confidence and esteem of his associates and superiors by talent and devotion of the first order joined to every quality that stamps a man among men.

The fiery Holcomb, wounded in the assault of the 27th, yet refusing to leave his duty to another, fell early on this fatal morning at the head of his regiment and brigade, in the first moment of the final charge of Weitzel's men. This was another serious loss, for Holcomb had that disposition that may, for want of a better term, be described as the fighting character. All soldiers know it and respect it, and every wise general, seeing it anywhere among his officers, shuts his eyes to many a blemish and pardons many a fault that would be severely visited in another; yet in Holcomb there was nothing to overlook or forgive. As he was the most prominent and the most earnest of the few officers of the line that to the last remained eager for the fatal assault, so he was among the earliest and noblest of its victims.

Mortally wounded at the head of Weitzel's brigade fell Colonel Elisha B. Smith, of the 114th New York. Barely recovered from a serious illness, his spirit could not longer brook the restraint of the hospital at New Orleans with the knowledge that his men were engaged with the enemy. Thomas was ill and had received a slight wound of the scalp; this brought Smith to the head of the brigade; his fall devolved the command upon Lieutenant-Colonel Van Petten, for though Thomas, unable to bear the torture inflicted upon him by the sounds of battle, rose from his sick-bed and resumed the command, his weakness again overcame him when the day's work was done.

No regiment at Port Hudson approached the 8th New Hampshire in the number and severity of its losses, no brigade suffered so much as Paine's, to which this regiment belonged, and no division so much as Emory's, under the command of Paine. On this day, Fearing commanded the brigade, and later the division, and Lull having fallen in the previous assault, the regiment went into action 217 strong, led by Captain William M. Barrett; of this number, 122, or 56 per cent., were killed or wounded. On the 27th of May, out of 298 engaged, the regiment lost 124, or 41 per cent.

Next to the 8th New Hampshire on the fatal roll stands the 4th Wisconsin. This noble regiment, at all times an honor to the service and to its State, whence came so many splendid battalions, was a shining monument to the virtue of steady, conscientious work and strict discipline applied to good material. Bean had been instantly killed by a sharp-shooter on the 29th of May; the regiment went into action on the 14th of June 220 strong, commanded by Captain Webster P. Moore; of these, 140 fell, or 63 per cent. In the first assault, however, it had fared better, its losses numbering but 60.

The eccentric Currie, who came to the service from the British army, with the lustre of the Crimea still about him, rather brightened than dimmed by time and distance, fell severely wounded on the same fatal crest. He was struck down at the head of his regiment, boldly leading his men and urging them forward with the quaint cry of "Get on, lads!" so well known to English soldiers, yet so unfamiliar to all Americans as to draw many a smile, even in that grim moment, from those who heard it.

To the cannonade that preceded the assault and announced it to the enemy must be attributed not only the failure but a great part of the loss. The wearied Confederates were asleep behind the breastworks when the roar of the Union artillery broke the stillness of the morning, and gave them time to make ready. Such was their extremity that in Grover's front they burned their last caps in repelling the final assault, and, for the time, were able to replenish only from the pouches of the fallen.

Under cover of night all the wounded that were able to walk or crawl made their way to places of safety in the rear; while, disregarding the incessant fire of the sharp-shooters, heavy details and volunteer parties of stretcher-bearers, plying their melancholy trade, carried the wounded with gentle care to the hospitals and the dead swiftly to the long trenches. The proportion of killed and mortally wounded, already unusually heavy, was increased by the exposure and privations of the long day, while many, whom it was impossible to find or reach during the night, succumbed sooner or later during the next forty-eight hours. For although when, on the morning of the 15th, Banks sent a flag of truce asking leave to send in medical and hospital supplies for the comfort of the wounded of both armies, Gardner promptly assented, and in his reply called attention to the condition of the dead and wounded before the breastworks, yet it was not until the evening of the 16th that Banks could bring himself to ask for a suspension of hostilities for the relief of the suffering and the burial of the slain. But three days and two nights had already passed; most of the hurt, and these the most grievously, were already beyond the need of succor. The same thing had already occurred at Vicksburg.

The operations at Vicksburg and Port Hudson were so far alike in their character and objects that no just estimate of the events at either place can well be formed without considering what happened at the other. In this view it is instructive to observe that Grant assaulted the Confederate position at Vicksburg within a few hours after the arrival of his troops in front of the place, on the afternoon of the 19th of May, when two determined attacks were easily thrown off by the defenders, with a loss to their assailants of 942 men. On the 22d of May Grant delivered the second assault, in which about three fourths of his whole effective force of 43,000 of all arms were engaged. The full corps of Sherman and McPherson, comprising six divisions, were repulsed by four brigades of the garrison, numbering probably 13,000 effectives. In this second assault Grant's loss was 3,199. These are the reasons he gives for his decision to attack:

"Johnston was in my rear, only fifty miles away, with an army not much in inferior in numbers to the one I had with me, and I knew he was being reinforced. There was danger of his coming to the assistance of Pemberton, and, after all, he might defeat my anticipations of capturing the garrison, if, indeed, he did not prevent the capture of the city. The immediate capture of Vicksburg would save sending me the reinforcements which were so much wanted elsewhere, and would set free the army under me to drive Johnston from the State. But the first consideration of all was—the troops believed they could carry the works in their front, and they would not have worked so patiently in their trenches if they had not been allowed to try."

Having tried, he now "determined upon a regular siege—to 'outcamp the enemy,' as it were, and to incur no more losses. The experience of the 22d convinced officers and men that this was best, and they went to work on the defences and approaches with a will."(1)

It has also to be remembered, in any fair and candid consideration of the subject, that at this comparatively early period of the war even such bloody lessons as Fredericksburg had not sufficed to teach either the commanders or their followers on either side, Federal or Confederate, the full value, computed in time, of even a simple line of breastworks of low relief, or the cost in blood of any attempt to eliminate this value of time by carrying the works at a rush. Indeed, it may be doubted whether, from the beginning of the war to the end, this reasoning, in spite of all castigations that resulted from disregarding it, was ever fully impressed upon the generals of either army, although at last there came, it is true, a time when, as at Cold Harbor, the men had an opinion of their own, and chose to act upon it. It is also very questionable whether earthworks manned by so much as a line of skirmishers, prepared and determined to defend them, have ever been successfully assaulted save as the result of a surprise. Sedgwick's captures of the Rappanhannock redoubts and of Marye's Heights have indeed been cited as instances to the contrary, yet on closer consideration it is apparent that although in the former case the Confederates had been looking for an attack, they had given up all expectation of being called on to meet it that day, when, just at sunset, Russell fell suddenly upon them and finished the affair handsomely before they had time to recover. Marye's Heights, again, may be described as a moral surprise, for no Confederate officer or man that had witnessed the bloody repulse of Burnside's great army on the very same ground, but a few weeks before, could have expected to be called on so soon to meet the swift and triumphant onset of a single corps of that army. Moreover, Sedgwick's tactical arrangements were perfect.

The truth is, the insignificant appearance of a line of simple breastworks has almost always caused those general and staff-officers especially that viewed them through their field-glasses, with the diminishing power of a long perspective, to forget that an assault upon an enemy behind entrenchments is not so much a battle as a battue, where one side stands to shoot and the other goes out to be shot, or if he stops to shoot it is in plain sight of an almost invisible foe. European examples, as usual misapplied or misunderstood, have contributed largely to the persistency of this fatal illusion, and Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos have served but as incantations to confuse many a mind to which these sounding syllables were no more than names; ignorant, therefore, of the stern necessities that drove Wellington to these victories, forgetful of their fearful cost, and above all ignoring or forgetting the axiom, on which rests the whole art and science of military engineering—that the highest and stoutest of stone walls must yield at last to the smallest trench through which a man may creep unseen. Vast, indeed, is the difference between an assault upon a walled town, delivered as a last resort after crowning the glacis and opening wide the breach, and any conceivable movement, though bearing the same name, made as the first resort, against earthworks of the very kind whereby walled towns are taken, approached over ground unknown and perhaps obstructed.

Even so, in the storm of Rodrigo the defenders struck down more than a third of their own numbers; Badajos was taken by a happy chance after the main assault had miserably failed; at both places the losses of the assailants were in proportion less, and in number but little greater, than at Port Hudson; yet, in the contemplation of the awful slaughter of Badajos, even the iron firmness of Wellington broke down in a passion of tears.

(1) "Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant," pp. 530, 532.

CHAPTER XVIII. UNVEXED TO THE SEA.

With that quick appreciation of facts that forms so large a part of the character of the American soldier, even to the extent of exercising upon the fate of battles and campaigns an influence not always reserved for considerations derived from a study of the principles of the art of war, the men of the Army of the Gulf had now made up their minds that the end sought was to be attained by hard work on their part and by starvation on the part of the garrison. Criticism and denunciation, by no means confined to those officers whose knowledge of the art of war is drawn from books, have been freely passed upon this peculiarity, yet both alike have been wasted, since no proposition can be clearer than that a nation, justly proud of the superior intelligence of its soldiers, cannot expect to reap the full advantage of that intelligence and at the same time escape every disadvantage attending its exercise. Among these drawbacks, largely overbalanced by the obvious gains, not the least is the peculiar quality that has been aptly described in the homely saying, "They know too much." When, therefore, the American volunteer has become a veteran, and has reached his highest point of discipline, endurance, and the simple sagacity of the soldier, it is often his way to stay his hand from exertions that he deems needless and from sacrifices that he considers useless or worse than useless, although the same exertions and the same sacrifices would, but a few months earlier in the days of his inexperience, have been met by him with the same alacrity that the ignorant peasant of Europe displays in obeying the orders of his hereditary chief in the service of the king.

After the 14th of June the siege progressed steadily without farther attempt at an assault. This was now deferred to the last resort. At four points a system of comparatively regular approaches was begun, and upon these labor was carried on incessantly, night and day; indeed, as is usual with works of this character, the greatest progress was made in the short hours of the June nights. The main approach led from Duryea's battery No. 12 toward the priest-cap, following the winding of the ravines and the contour of the hill. When at last the sap had, with great toil and danger, been carried to the crest facing the priest-cap, and only a few yards distant, the trench was rapidly and with comparative ease extended toward the left, in a line parallel with the general direction of the defences. The least distance from this third parallel, as it was called by an easy stretch of the language, to the enemy's parapet was about twenty yards, the greatest about forty-five.

About two hundred yards farther to the right of the elbow of the main sap, a zigzag ran out of the ravine on the left flank of Bainbridge's battery, No. 8, toward the bastion. Upon this approach, because of its directness, the use of the sap-roller, or some equivalent for it, could never be given up until the ditch was gained.

From the extreme left, after the northern slope of Mount Pleasant had been gained, a main approach was extended from the flank of Roy's battery of 20-pounder Parrotts, No. 20, almost directly toward the river, until the trench cut the edge of the bluff, forming meanwhile a covered way that connected all the batteries looking north from the left flank. Of these No. 24 was the seventeen-gun battery, including two 9-inch Dahlgrens removed from the naval battery of the right wing, and commanded by Ensign Swann. On the 2d of July, Lieutenant-Commander Terry took command of the Richmond and turned over the command of the right naval battery to Ensign Shepard. These "blue-jacket" batteries, with their trim and alert gun crews, were always bright spots in the sombre line. From the river bank the sap ran with five stretches of fifty or sixty yards, forming four sharp elbows, to the foot and well up the slope of the steep hill on the opposite side of the ravine, where the Confederates had constructed the strong work known to both combatants as the Citadel. From the head of the sap to the nearest point of the Confederate works the distance was about ninety-five yards.

From the ravine in front of the mortar battery of the left wing, No. 18, a secondary approach was carried to a parallel facing the advanced lunette, No. XXVII., and distant from it 375 yards. The object of this approach was partly to amuse the enemy, partly to prevent his breaking through the line, now drawn out very thin, and partly also to serve as a foothold for a column of attack in case of need.

From the ravine near Slaughter's house a zigzag, constructed by the men of the 21st Maine, under the immediate direction of Colonel Johnson, led to the position of battery No. 16, where were posted the ten guns of Rails and Baines. The distance from this battery to the defences was four hundred yards.

On the 15th of June, on the heels of the bloody repulse of the previous day, Banks issued a general order congratulating his troops upon the steady advance made upon the enemy's works, and expressed his confidence in an immediate and triumphant issue of the contest:

"We are at all points on the threshold of his fortifications," the order continues. "Only one more advance, and they are ours!

"For the last duty that victory imposes, the Commanding General summons the bold men of the corps to the organization of a storming column of a thousand men, to vindicate the flag of the Union, and the memory of its defenders who have fallen! Let them come forward!

"Officers who lead the column of victory in this last assault may be assured of the just recognition of their services by promotion; and every officer and soldier who shares its perils and its glory shall receive a medal to commemorate the first great success of the campaign of 1863 for the freedom of the Mississippi. His name will be placed in General Orders upon the Roll of Honor."

Colonel Henry W. Birge, of the 13th Connecticut, at once volunteered to lead the stormers, and although the whole project was disapproved by many of the best officers and men in the corps, partly as unnecessary and partly because they conceived that it implied some reflection upon the conduct of the brave men that had fought and suffered and failed on the 27th and the 14th, yet so general was the feeling of confidence in Birge that within a few days the ranks of the stormers were more than filled. As nearly as can now be ascertained, the whole number of officers who volunteered was at least 80; of enlisted men at least 956. Of these, 17 officers and 226 men belonged to the 13th Connecticut. As the different parties offered and were accepted, they were sent into camp in a retired and pleasant spot, in a grove behind the naval battery on the right. On the 15th of June Birge was ordered to divide his column into two battalions, and to drill it for its work. On the 28th this organization was complete. The battalions were then composed of eight companies, but two companies were afterwards added to the first battalion. To Lieutenant-Colonel Van Petter, of the 160th New York, Birge gave the command of the first battalion, and to Lieutenant-Colonel Bickmore, of the 14th Maine, that of the second battalion. On that day, 67 of the officers and 826 men—in all, 893, were present for duty in the camp of the stormers. Among those that volunteered for the forlorn hope but were not accepted were 54 non-commissioned officers and privates of the 1st Louisiana Native Guards, and 37 of the 3d. From among the officers of the general staff and staff departments that were eager to go, two were selected to accompany the column and keep up the communication with headquarters and with the other troops; these were Captain Duncan S. Walker, assistant adjutant-general, and Lieutenant Edmund H. Russell, of the 9th Pennsylvania Reserves, acting signal officer.

Then the officers and men quietly prepared themselves for the serious work expected of them. Those that had any thing to leave made their wills in the manner sanctioned by the custom of armies, and all confided to the hands of comrades the last words for their families or their friends.

Meanwhile an event took place, trifling in itself, yet accenting sharply some of the more serious reasons that had, in the first instance, led Banks to resist the repeated urging to join Grant with his whole force, and afterward had formed powerful factors in determining him to deliver and to renew the assault. Early on the morning of the 18th of June a detachment of Confederate cavalry rode into the village of Plaquemine, surprised the provost guard, captured Lieutenant C. H. Witham and twenty-two men of the 28th Maine, and burned the three steamers lying the bayou, the Sykes, Anglo-American, and Belfast. Captain Albert Stearns, of the 131st New York, who was stationed at Plaquemine as provost marshal of the parish, made his escape with thirteen men of his guard. The Confederates were fired upon by the guard and lost one man killed and two wounded. In their turn they fired upon the steamboats, and wounded two of the crew. Three hours later the gunboat Winona, Captain Weaver, came down from Baton Rouge, and, shelling the enemy, hastened their departure. In the tension of greater events, little notice was taken at the moment of this incident; yet it was not long before it was discovered that the raiders were the advance guard of the little army with which Taylor was about to invade La Fourche, intent upon the bold design of raising the siege of Port Hudson by blockading the river and threatening New Orleans.

Thus Banks was brought face to face with the condition described in his letter of the 4th of June to Halleck:

"The course to be pursued here gives me great anxiety. If I abandon Port Hudson, I leave its garrison, some 6,000 or 7,000 men, the force under Mouton and Sibley, now threatening Brashear City and the Army of Mobile, large or small, to threaten or attack New Orleans. If I detach from my command in the field a sufficient force to defend that city, which ought not to be less than 8,000 or 10,000, my assistance to General Grant is unimportant, and I leave an equal or larger number of the enemy to reinforce Johnston. If I defend New Orleans and its adjacent territory, the enemy will go against Grant. If I go with a force sufficient to aid him, my rear will be seriously threatened. My force is not large enough to do both. Under these circumstances, my only course seems to be to carry this post as soon as possible, and then to join General Grant. If I abandon it I cannot materially aid him."

Taylor's incursion caused Banks some anxiety and appreciable inconvenience, without, however, exercising a material influence on the fortunes of the siege; accordingly, it will be better to reserve for another chapter the story of this adventure.

About the same time, Logan again became troublesome. At first he seems to have thought of retiring on Jackson, Mississippi; but this Johnston forbade, telling him to stay where he was, to observe and annoy the besiegers, and if pressed by too strong a force, to fall back only so far as necessary, hindering and retarding the advance of his assailants. By daylight, on the morning of the 15th of June, Logan dashed down the Clinton road, surprised the camp of the 14th New York cavalry, who made little resistance, and the guard of the hospital at the Carter House, who made none. In this raid Logan took nearly one hundred disabled prisoners, including six officers, and carried off a number of wagons. However, finding Grierson instantly on his heels, Logan promptly "fell back as far as necessary." On the evening of the 30th of June, while hovering in the rear of Dwight, Logan captured and carried off Brigadier-General Dow, who, while waiting for his wound to heal, had taken up his headquarters in a house some distance behind the lines. At daylight, on the morning of the 2d of July, Logan surprised the depot at Springfield Landing, guarded by the 162d New York, Lieutenant-Colonel Blanchard, and a small detachment of the 16th New Hampshire, under Captain Henry. Careless picket duty was the cause, and a great stampede the consequence, but Logan hardly stayed long enough to find out exactly what he had accomplished, since he reports that, besides burning the commissary and quartermasters' stores, he killed and wounded 140 of his enemy, captured 35 prisoners, fought an entire brigade, and destroyed 100 wagons, with a loss on his part of 4 killed and 10 wounded; whereas, in fact, the entire loss of the Union army was 1 killed, 11 wounded, 21 captured or missing, while the stores burned consisted of a full supply of clothing and camp and garrison equipment for about 1,000 men. The wagons mentioned by Logan were part of a train met in the road, cut out, and carried off as he rapidly rode away, and the number may be correct.

The end of June was now drawing near, and already the losses of the besiegers in the month of constant fighting exceeded 4,000. At least as many more were sick in the hospitals, while the reinforcements from every quarter barely numbered 3,000. There were no longer any reserves to draw from; the last man was up. The effective strength of all arms had at no time exceeded 17,000.(1) Of these less than 12,000 can be regarded as available for any duty directly connected with the siege, and now every day saw the command growing smaller in numbers, as the men fell under the fire of the sharp-shooter, or succumbed to the deadly climate, or gave out exhausted by incessant labor and privation. The heat became almost insupportable, even to those who from time to time found themselves so fortunate as to be able to snatch a few hours' rest in the dense shade of the splendid forest, until their tour of duty should come again in the trenches, where, under the June sun beating upon and baking all three surfaces, the parched clay became like a reverberating furnace. The still air was stifling, but the steam from the almost tropical showers was far worse. Merely in attempting to traverse a few yards of this burning zone many of the strongest men were sunstruck daily. The labor of the siege, extending over so wide a front, pressed so severely upon the numbers of the besieging army, always far too weak for such an undertaking in any climate at any season, above all in Louisiana in June, that the men were almost incessantly on duty, either in digging, as guards of the trenches, as sharp-shooters, or on outpost service; and as the number available for duty grew smaller, and the physical strength of all that remained in the ranks daily wasted, the work fell the more heavily. When the end came at last the effective force, outside of the cavalry, hardly exceeded 8,000, while even of this small number nearly every officer and man might well have gone on the sick-report had not pride and duty held him to his post.

This will seem the less remarkable when it is remembered that the garrison during the same period suffered in the same proportion, while from like causes less than a year before Breckinridge had, in a much shorter time, lost the use of half his division. Butler's experience had been nearly as severe.

To the suffering and labors that are inseparable from any operation in the nature of a siege were added insupportable torments, the least of which were vermin. As the summer days drew out and the heat grew more intense, the brooks dried up; the creek lost itself in the pestilential swamp; the wells and springs gave out; the river fell, exposing to the almost tropical sun a wide margin of festering ooze. The mortality and the sickness were enormous.

The animals suffered in their turn, the battery horses from want of exercise, the train horses and mules from over-work, and all from the excessive heat and insufficiency of proper forage. There was never enough hay; the deficiency was partly eked out by making fodder of the standing corn, but this resource was quickly exhausted, and after the 3d of July, when Taylor sealed the river by planting his guns below Donaldsonville, all the animals went upon half or quarter rations of grain, with little hay or none. At length, for two or three days, the forage depots fairly gave out; the poor beasts were literally starving when the place fell, nor was it for nearly a week after that event that, by the raising of Taylor's blockade below and the arrival of supplies from Grant above, the stress was wholly relieved.

The two colored regiments, the 1st and 3d Louisiana Native Guards, besides strongly picketing their front, were mainly occupied, after the 27th of May, in fatigue duty in the trenches on the right. While the army was in the Teche country, Brigadier-General Daniel Ullmann had arrived at New Orleans from New York, bringing with him authority to raise a brigade of colored troops. With him came a full complement of officers. A few days later, on the 1st of May, Banks issued, at Opelousas, an order, which he had for some time held in contemplation, for organizing a corps of eighteen regiments of colored infantry, to consist, at first, of five hundred men each. These troops were to form a distinct command, to which he gave the name of the Corps d'Afrique, and in it he incorporated Ullmann's brigade. By the end of May Ullmann had enrolled about 1,400 men for five regiments, the 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th. These recruits, as yet unarmed and undrilled, were now brought to Port Hudson, organized, and set to work in the trenches and upon the various siege operations.

About the same time the formation of a regiment of engineer troops was undertaken, composed of picked men of color, formed in three battalions of four companies each, under white officers carefully chosen from among the veterans. The ranks of this regiment, known as the 1st Louisiana engineers, were soon recruited to above a thousand; the strength for duty was about eight hundred. Under the skilful handling of Colonel Justin Hodge it rendered valuable service throughout the siege.

Company K of the 42d Massachusetts, commanded by Lieutenant Henry A. Harding, had for some months been serving as pontoniers, in charge of the bridge train. During the siege it did good and hard work in all branches of field engineering under the immediate direction of the Chief Engineer.

While at Opelousas, Banks had applied to Halleck to order Brigadier-General Charles P. Stone to duty in the Department of the Gulf. Stone had been without assignment since his release, in the preceding August, from his long and lonely imprisonment in the casemates of the harbor forts of New York, and, up to this moment, every suggestion looking to his employment had met the stern disapproval of the Secretary of War. Even when in the first flush of finding himself at last at the top notch of his career, Hooker, in firm possession, as he believed, of the post he had long coveted, as commander of the Army of the Potomac, had asked for Stone as his Chief of Staff, the request had been met by a flat refusal. A different fate awaited Banks's application. On the 7th of May Halleck issued the orders asked for, and in the last days of the month Stone reported for duty before Port Hudson. At first Banks was rather embarrassed by the gift he had solicited, for he saw that he himself was falling into disfavor at Washington; the moment was critical; and it was easy to perceive how disaster, or even the slightest check, might be magnified in the shadows of Ball's Bluff and Fort Lafayette. Moreover, Stone was equally unknown to and unknown by the troops of the Nineteenth Army Corps. Instead, therefore, of giving him the command of Sherman's division, for which his rank indicated him, Banks kept Stone at headquarters without special assignment, and made every use of his activity, as well as of his special knowledge and ready skill in all matters relating to ordnance and gunnery.

On the evening of the 26th of June a strange thing happened. While it was yet broad daylight Colonel Provence of the 16th Arkansas, posted in rear of the position of battery XXIV, discovering and annoyed by the progress made on battery 16 in his front, sent out, one at a time, two bold men, named Mieres and Parker, to see what was going on. After nightfall, on their report, he despatched thirty volunteers, under Lieutenant McKennon, to drive off the guard and the working party and destroy the works. The position was held by the advance guard of the 21st Maine, under Lieutenant Bartlett, who, for some reason hard to understand, ordered his men not to fire. The Arkansas party, therefore, accomplished its purpose, without further casualty than having one man knocked down, as he was leaping the parapet of the trench, by a soldier who happened to consider his orders as inapplicable to this method of defence. Then Major Merry, with the reserves of the 21st, coming promptly to the rescue, easily drove out the enterprising assailants, with whom went as prisoners Lieutenant Bartlett and five of his men, with fourteen muskets that had not been fired.(2)