Chapter VI

FEBRUARY--AT BAYOU GENTILLY--MORE DETAILS.

That part of Bayou Gentilly where a portion of the Forty-Second was to remain in camp for nearly five months was, at the time of arrival, a most desolate looking place. The Gentilly road passed the camp ground, leading to Fort Macomb, on Lake Ponchartrain, and at this point, at this time, was in a wretched condition. Each side of the road was lined by small plantations and pasture lands, extending back for a short distance to swamps. Most of the plantations were uninhabited, the land covered with rank vegetation, and showed every sign of abandonment. Occasionally some hut or rude cabin would give signs of life--occupied by charcoal burners, who carried on their vocation in the swamps. The Ponchartrain Railroad, from New Orleans to Lakeport, on Lake Ponchartrain, five miles long, in a direct line through the swamp to the lake, ran only two trains a day. Save the regiment, scarcely a person would be seen for days.

A sugar-cane plantation near the camp, belonging to a Mr. Lee, was used to pasture private and Government cattle, and recruit the strength of horses and mules run down by hard service in the army. The private residence, negro cabins, stables and work houses remained in very good order. The sugar-house was a mass of ruins. An extensive grove of plum trees was in good condition.

Pent up in this flat spot of land, with nothing to relieve the eye but a mass of trees situated in the swamp, their limbs covered with light-colored moss, had a depressing effect on the spirits of some men, who began early to show signs of home-sickness.

The ground selected for the camp was upon the old Louisiana race-course, the best to be found in the neighborhood. This race-course had been surrounded by a high board fence, such as enclose similar grounds, but had disappeared, leaving the ground as open as the land about it. Adjoining the Gentilly road and Ponchartrain Railroad, the side towards New Orleans was on the border of a swamp. This ground was formerly occupied for a camp by Confederate troops. The famous Washington Artillery, of New Orleans, first went into camp at this place at the commencement of hostilities. A portion of the Confederate garrison of New Orleans, when General Butler landed, were also encamped here. What few inhabitants were to be seen said that a large number of men had at various times been in camp at this point, and was a general rendezvous for many of the Louisiana troops when organizing for the war. Many an hour has been pleasantly passed inspecting the writings and pictures upon the walls of a building used by them as a hospital, placed there by men from the Thirtieth and Thirty-First Louisiana regiments.

By railroad the distance from New Orleans to Gentilly Station was three miles, and from Gentilly Station to the Lake End, or Lakeport, was two miles. A short distance up the track towards Lakeport and back from the Gentilly road, which the railroad crosses at grade, was an earthwork mounting four heavy guns, called Battery Gentilly, flanked by extensive breastworks for infantry, with wide and deep ditches in front filled with water. Trees in the swamp in front had been cut down for a considerable distance to give good range to the guns. Another earthwork, mounting nine guns, was situated on the Gentilly road, towards Fort Macomb, some two and one-half miles from the railroad track, and was in all its surroundings similar to Battery Gentilly.

On the twenty-eighth of January, when the regiment changed camps, the roads were in very good condition in spite of cold weather, and rain falling for two days previous. Great coats were worn; the men were in excellent spirits, and the distance, about three miles, was accomplished early in the afternoon. Very few men straggled; most of those that did were suffering from diarrhœa. The line of march embraced a circuit of New Orleans on its immediate outskirts, affording few opportunities to see subjects of interest to strangers in a new land. A greater part of the houses were either deserted or occupied by the poorer class of people; only a few were evidently the property of wealthy individuals. Some handsome residences were seen, but their occupants were decidedly unfriendly. They could be seen looking slyly through blinds and from door corners, but none threw their windows open in a bold manner to look out of them, as the regiment marched past.

The houses were generally in good repair, many of one or two stories in height, with large windows and doors; nearly one-half had a veranda in front of each story. The gardens were in a deplorable condition. Few people were seen on the roads, and they, except the negroes, evinced no interest in the regiment. There was one knot of women collected together who would frequently hiss: “d----d Yankees,” “ain’t you ashamed,” “hope you will all die,” and similar words of welcome. None of the men paid any attention to them. Coffee houses and apologies for restaurants, located on the route, were generally closed for want of business; their signs were retained, put up when the secession excitement was in full blaze. _Beauregard_ was the favorite name for use on these signs.

Having arrived at Bayou Gentilly, by night-time camp was pitched and everything made as comfortable as possible. The hospital was located in a wide and long one-story wooden building, formerly used for a liquor and refreshment saloon, attached to the race-course. Headquarters was also established in the building. The quartermaster and commissary stores, and the horses, occupied a similar building, which had been built or refitted for the purpose, a short distance away towards the railroad crossing.

General Banks, having issued a general order calling for volunteers to fill the Second Vermont Battery, Captain Holcomb, the next day, twenty-ninth, Corporal Thomas Hanson White, Company K, Private John B. Williams, Company K, Private Addison J. Williams, Company K, Private William F. Howard, Company K, Private Horace M. Cowles, Company K, Private Oscar J. Stockwell, Company E, and Private Oliver King, Company E, who had volunteered, received their descriptive lists, final orders, and left camp to join the battery then stationed at Donaldsonville, to remain until their term of service expired. This battery was in the army before Port Hudson, and the men saw some hard service. None of them died from disease, or were wounded or killed. They rejoined the regiment at Algiers, July 23d.

The month of January closed with five companies on duty at Bayou Gentilly, showing a strength of sixteen officers and four hundred and forty-nine men present, with sixteen of the men sick in hospital.

In February the regiment was still further scattered by several details. Cold and rainy weather, combined with these continual details, rather dispirited for awhile both officers and men, who gradually became convinced that as a body the regiment was not destined during its service to perform any gallant deeds, or be placed in a position to try and do so.

A detachment of one sergeant, three corporals and twenty-five privates from Company A, under command of Lieutenant Martin Burrell, Jr., was ordered February 3d to take charge and guard the battery situated on the Gentilly road, towards Fort Macomb. At the time of taking charge of this battery it mounted nine guns. Battery Gentilly did not have an armament. During the month, as nothing was to be feared from the enemy in this direction, and the Confederates could attempt a demonstration against New Orleans from the direction of the lake in the neighborhood of Lakeport, Bayou St. John and Hickok’s Landing, General Sherman, commanding Defences New Orleans, had his ordnance officer, Captain Pease, Forty-Seventh Massachusetts Volunteers, remove the guns from this battery and use them to equip Battery Gentilly on the railroad track and Battery St. John on St. John Bayou. Removal of these guns and putting them into their new positions occupied about one month. On the eighteenth the transfer had so far advanced that the detachment under Lieutenant Burrell was ordered to the battery on the Ponchartrain Road. It was not until March 10th that Battery St. John was occupied and taken in charge by the remaining men of Company A, under command of Captain Coburn.

Pay day were talismanic words to the soldier. Visions of a pocket full of “Uncle Sam’s” greenbacks float before the eyes of those men who had not allotted their money. Depending altogether on his frugality, for days or weeks after being paid off a soldier can visit the sutler, and at enormous prices buy little delicacies and necessaries to go with his Government rations, to make them more palatable. Tobacco and pipes were the most popular articles of purchase. Liquor had peculiar charms for a great many.

The first muster for pay of the regiment took place at Carrollton on the twenty-seventh of January, when the troops at that place were mustered to December 31st, 1862. Government always has its troops in arrears two months at least, to cover any overdrafts on clothing account, or fines charged them by sentence of courts-martial for misdemeanors. The troops are mustered for pay on the last day of the month every two months during the year, when all men present are reported on the muster and pay rolls, who draw their pay when the paymaster makes his appearance. Absent men, except on detached service by orders, do not get mustered, but have to wait until the next muster and payment before obtaining any money; this, to most men, is sufficient punishment for their absence without leave.

Companies A, B, E, F and K were paid off at Bayou Gentilly on February 2d, by a major in the Paymasters’ Department attached to the Department of the Gulf. Companies C and H were paid a few days later at Camp Parapet. Payments to all companies of the regiment (except Company K) were made with regularity and promptness during the term of service, because, stationed in close proximity to New Orleans most of the time afforded paymasters easy access to them. Company K, while on duty with the army in the field, was not so fortunate. The paroled men of Companies D, G and I were first mustered for pay on the regular muster day, February 28th, and first paid April 27th, when they were paid from the date of their enlistment to March 1st.

Those who did not allot any of their pay, received what seemed to be at that time large sums of money. The nine months troops were allowed regular pay from time of signing the enlistment rolls, and a large number had done so early in August and September, 1862; they had, therefore, some six and seven months pay due them. The allotment system never found much favor with men of the Forty-Second, so that nearly every soldier received the full amount due him without any deductions. Many men, with families at home, availed themselves of an express arrangement at low rates with the Adams & Co. Express, to forward most of their pay, every pay day, to those in need of it.

The unmarried men, with those of a spendthrift character, retained their money, spending the larger part of it in a bar-room, otherwise called a sutler’s shop, situated in the same building used for headquarters and for a hospital, kept by a man called Charley Ellis. This man Ellis, in all outward appearances a well-meaning man, was at heart a perfect rogue. Formerly lessee of the New Orleans race-course (the grounds occupied by the regiment for a camp), at the time Louisiana seceded he was a professed Union man, suffering a short imprisonment in the Parish jail, and was treated to a coat of tar and feathers for his sentiments. Nothing definite is known of his former history except that he was a professional horse jockey, an admirer of sports of the turf, and a regular sporting man. As lessee of the race-course he ran in debt, and was unable to pay. Upon the occupation of New Orleans by troops under General Butler, he enlisted the sympathies of that general. He kept a regular drinking saloon in the city, and whenever troops occupied the race-course for a camp opened a branch establishment on the ground, if he was lucky enough to hoodwink the commanding officer, nominally to furnish sutlers’ stores, but practically as a drinking saloon.

Ellis, by his plausible stories and seductive manners, completely blindfolded the eyes of officers in the Forty-Second at first, and was allowed to open his saloon. By rendering little favors and trifling services to the officers he managed to keep in their good graces, and became intimate enough to borrow considerable sums of money from them, much of which was never repaid. He once got a loan from the hospital fund that created some trouble in the hospital by his not paying back the money at the stipulated time, thereby preventing the surgeons from obtaining those little extras they were in the habit of furnishing to their patients, until, by threats, Ellis was made to pay this borrowed amount.

The building occupied for headquarters and hospital Ellis endeavored to make the officers believe belonged to him, as lessee of the grounds, although it was known his lease was void from non-fulfilment of its conditions on his part. On the departure of the regiment from Bayou Gentilly he presented a bill for rent of the building, at the rate of five hundred dollars a month, for the length of time it was occupied by the regiment, to Lieutenant-Colonel Stedman, for his approval. It was never approved. Why Ellis was allowed to remain inside of the regimental lines with his stock of bad liquors for sale was a mystery to those who had learned his character and saw what mischief he was doing. The surgeons were opposed to his being allowed there, and remonstrated against it, and Chaplain Sanger, who could not help seeing that not alone disease of the body but disease of the mind was one of the results sure to accrue from this sutler’s shop, joined in the remonstrance.

Two other liquor saloons on the road, in close proximity to the camp, were also doing mischief. Verbal orders were at one time given their proprietors not to sell liquor to a soldier, on pain of having their stock demolished; but as no extra vigilance was exercised in detecting offences against the orders, they were not considered as of any account.

February 4th, Privates Thomas Burns, John Nolan and Thomas Mathews, stragglers in New York from Company D, returned and were assigned to duty with Company E. On the eighteenth, Privates Greene and Luzardo, of Company G, on duty with Company K, were detached and assigned to duty with Company E, and Private Joseph V. Colson, Company G, was assigned to Company E. Private Colson was a straggler in New York from the regiment. He had a varied experience on his trip to New Orleans. Reporting to the proper officer in New York, he was put aboard the ship _Planter_, with some two hundred other men belonging to various regiments of the Nineteenth Corps. The ship went upon the reefs at Grand Abaco Island, in the Bahama Channel, during good weather, about four o’clock in the morning. All hands were saved by the ship’s boats, landing them upon the island, where they remained seventeen days, subsisting on pork and water saved from the wreck and shell fish obtained on the island. Finally a few wrecking schooners carried the troops to Key West, and from there they were sent to New Orleans to rejoin their several commands. Of the two hundred and fifty horses aboard, all were lost. The vast amount of medical stores and other property was mostly saved by wreckers; some fifty wrecker sails were counted by Colson hovering about the ship in three days after going upon the reef. What was saved by these wreckers was taken to Nassau. Aboard the ship it was believed that the captain, a Southerner, purposely wrecked the vessel. Colson reported having a good time on the trip, but it seemed like home to him when he reached the regiment.

The only case in February before Major Stiles, for discipline, was that of Private James Minz, Company K, for disobedience of orders and using disrespectful language to his superior officer. Conviction and sentence followed, the sentence meeting the approval of the brigade commander, which was, to forfeit eight dollars a month of his pay to the United States for two months and to remain a prisoner at the guard tent for seven days, doing fatigue duty each day.

A system of rocket signals was arranged between the brigade headquarters in New Orleans, the Gentilly Station and Lakeport. In case the enemy appeared at night upon the lake, three rockets at Lakeport, or in the city, was the signal for the regiment to get under arms and await orders from the general commanding Defences of New Orleans. Several times the sentries mistook shooting stars for rockets, and raised alarms in the camp; even the officers have been led at times to think these stars were signal rockets. They certainly did have that appearance when seen for a moment in the remarkable clear atmosphere prevailing during the early part of the night, just above tall trees of the swamp, and would be apt to mislead any person who was on the lookout for such signals.

Among the several _new sensations_ experienced at Bayou Gentilly were a few night alarms. Only those who have for the first time in a hostile country heard the drums beat to arms near the midnight hour can form any idea of the sensation it gives to a raw soldier. The heart beats quick; he can feel his blood warming up; every nerve is strung to the highest tension in anticipation of stirring events about to happen.

The regiment, for several nights in succession, during February, was under arms for what, at the time, were thought to be good causes, but at a later period partook of the ludicrous and provoked a smile. The first alarm was started one night by Lieutenant-Colonel Stedman, for the purpose of testing the guard in a knowledge of its duty. At a distance of about one-quarter of a mile from camp he fired his pistol some three or four times towards the camp and then quickly returned to his headquarters. The officer of the guard aroused the camp at once by causing the long roll to be beaten, and reported the circumstances to the officer of the day, who proceeded to report to Lieutenant-Colonel Stedman, and entered headquarters a moment after his return. The regiment was always in line from five to ten minutes after a call to arms, ready to obey orders.

On the occasion narrated a detachment of thirty men was sent down the road leading toward Fort Macomb, with orders to scour the plantations upon each side and ascertain the cause of firing. Sergeant-Major Bosson was fond of giving his experience on this, his first night on a scout. In detail he gave the _peculiar_ feelings that came over him when prowling around and looking into every nook and corner of a ruined sugar-house, accompanied by two men, expecting to find a body of armed men secreted there; how he afterwards joined the detachment on the road, and then with another detail of two men searched plantations upon the left of the road as far down as the battery, where Lieutenant Burrell with his detachment was stationed, saving the life of a cow one of his companions mistook for a man dodging around among the swamp trees and made ready to fire at.

A number of officers had with them patent-armored vests, that were sold extensively when the nine months troops were enlisting. Those iron-clad arrangements were put on with such alacrity at every night alarm that the officers who unfortunately owned them must have laughed when, at home safe and sound after their term of service expired, they thought over the _dangers_ they passed through in Louisiana, especially at Bayou Gentilly. Some of the officers have slept at night with these iron cases on, and it came to be a fixed custom until the hot weather set in for owners of iron vests to don them when the regiment was under arms for any supposable emergency, more for the purpose of making some use of them, or, as they jocosely remarked, “get their money’s worth out of them at any rate.” Officers who were in the Galveston action also had these iron vests. They were forgotten when trouble was expected and no use made of them.

A private in Company F, a troublesome fellow and great shirk, endeavored to pass a sentinel without giving the countersign on the night of February 14th. He was properly challenged but paid no attention to the call, “Who goes there!” repeated a number of times, when the sentry, also a private of Company F, aimed his musket and fired at him for his temerity. The ball whistled by his head and passed through the hospital without damage. The fellow did not receive any sympathy, nor did he deserve any, and the fright given him was deemed sufficient punishment and warning not to repeat the blunder.[9]

[9] Adjutant Davis had a similar adventure at this camp. A sentry challenged him without receiving a reply, made ready and levelled his gun at him. The click of the trigger woke Davis from a reverie to instantly comprehend his situation and answer the challenge. This sentry acknowledged he recognized the adjutant, and yet maintained he should have fired at him in a moment after taking aim. As Davis was inside the camp on official business, such action on the sentinel’s part would not have been humane or proper, while it might have been justified. As he recognized his officer and thought, as he admits, that his challenge was not heard, to have stopped the adjutant at the point of his bayonet was sufficient.

Quite a number of men in Company F were sick. Two of the cases baffled the surgeon’s skill until it was decided, after an inspection of company quarters, that in these two cases signs and symptoms of scurvy was manifested, and fresh meat in place of “salt horse” ought to be provided. The brigade quartermaster was unable to fill a requisition for fresh meat, while the camp was serenaded night and day by constant tinkling of a hundred cow-bells, attached to as many cows. The idea of going without fresh meat when it was needed, with a herd of cattle within reach, was more than the officers could stand, and a council was held at regimental headquarters. The result was, Captain Cogswell received authority to take some of his men, who understood how to slaughter and dress cattle, and go to work that night.

The party consisted of Major Stiles, Captain Cogswell, Sergeant-Major Bosson, Sergeant B. A. Bottomley, Corporal Sylvander Bothwell, Privates Harvey Allen (company cook), George Mann and Charles Sanderson, of Company F. They selected a fine animal, placed a rope around her horns with difficulty, and dragged the cow towards a grove of trees, selected as a proper place to dress her. Everything was done in a workmanlike manner, as the butchers knew their business, and after the fresh beef was carried upon a confiscated ladder to the regimental quartermaster’s depot all hands returned to Company F’s quarters, to partake of broiled steak and liver, cooked by Harvey Allen about one o’clock in the morning.

Not satisfied with this supply of beef, Lieutenant Harding and men from his company (Company K) again made a raid on the herd of cattle shortly after and slaughtered cow number two, without authority. In this case the hide and entrails were buried in the swamp, while Captain Cogswell’s butchers threw the head, hide and entrails into a well of water used by the cattle, near the paroled camp. No one supposed these cows would be missed, until the owner appeared and made inquiries about them. He was not satisfied with his reception in the camp, proceeding to prowl around to ascertain where they were. His attention was attracted to the well of water, where all that remained of cow number one had been placed, by the moaning of several head of cattle that stood near smelling of the water and tearing up the turf with their feet, when a hundred men of the regiment, who had been watching him with curiosity from the camp line, saw the owner fish out the head and hide with a long pole.

He then made complaint to the provost-marshal in New Orleans, who invited the regimental officers to explain. In order to prevent an unpleasant inquiry the affair was settled by the officers making up a purse of about three hundred dollars to pay the owner’s claim; this fresh meat costing them dear in the end. No cattle were molested afterwards.

Before Assistant-Surgeon Smith, Twenty-Sixth Massachusetts, was relieved from charge of the hospital a curious case came under his care, ending in a manner discreditable to him. Private Francis N. Prouty, Company F, was sick in hospital with malarial fever. No one thought the case serious until, one morning, Surgeon Smith came into the headquarters office excited and breathless, reporting Prouty as dying. Word was sent to Captain Cogswell and his company officers, who at once repaired to the sick-room, accompanied by Chaplain Sanger and several others, to witness the dying scene. There Prouty lay upon his cot, with head and shoulders bolstered up by pillows, breathing short and quick, no sign of death in his face, that had an intelligent look, and his eyes their natural appearance. The other patients in the room were resting upon elbows on their cots watching Prouty with wondering eyes, as the solemn procession filed in and took positions near the supposed dying man. While the surgeon kept one hand upon the patient’s pulse, Chaplain Sanger offered a fervent prayer in his behalf that only served to produce a look of wonder in Prouty’s eyes, that appeared to say, what in the devil is this all about? He did not die, and afterwards said, had no intention of doing so, to please any one. The whole scene ended, after waiting about half an hour, in the solemn procession retiring from his side, pleased to find that the end was not to come, and somewhat mad with the surgeon for his opinion on the case. Smith had not been considered a surgeon of any skill before this event, and this case served to deepen the distrust of his ability.

During February New Orleans was alive with army officers and men, on furlough and without leave, indulging in all sorts of wild dissipation. The evil became so great that special orders were issued by General Banks to General Sherman to stop it. Stringent orders relative to passes, rigidly enforced, soon put an end to this demoralizing conduct. Another source of trouble was the presence of large negro contraband camps in the vicinity of the city, requiring other stringent orders to be issued for their government, and regulating the behavior of soldiers towards them. In January the ladies in New Orleans had shown a disposition to indulge in petty insults to soldiers whom they met on the streets, and caused a circular, dated January 13th, to be issued, which put a stop to much of this silly nonsense, but did not do away with it entirely. The circular read as follows:

“HEADQUARTERS DEPT. OF THE GULF,
“NEW ORLEANS, January 13th, 1863.

“Notice is hereby given by the commanding general of this Department that offensive personal demonstrations, by language or conduct of any character, by persons of any class whatever, with the intention of giving personal offence, or tending to disturb the public peace, are forbidden, and will be punished with relentless severity. Parents will be held responsible for the respectful conduct of their children, and prompt measures will be taken to fasten upon the proper parties any act of this character. All persons who may be witnesses to such conduct, are directed, as a measure of public peace, to give information thereof to the provost-marshal, or at these headquarters.

“By command of
“MAJOR-GENERAL BANKS.
“RICHARD B. IRWIN,
“_Lieut.-Col_., _Assistant Adjutant-General_.”

Brigade drills under Colonel Farr, and a brigade review and inspection, by Brigadier-General Sherman, commanding division, were had while at Gentilly Bayou. The brigade drills were interesting, and considering the short time most of the regiments had been in service were quite satisfactory. Three drills were all this brigade ever had, on account of its being posted over a large extent of ground, and at posts that could not be left exposed by gathering the men together for such a purpose.

It was the custom to leave camp at eight A.M. on brigade drill days, in light marching order, as a march had to be made of about three miles to the drill ground. The weather would be hot and sun very scorching; on one drill only did the weather prove treacherous, and then the regiment was caught in a thunder shower. After several hours devoted to drill, and then a march back to camp with but short intervals for rest during the time, no rations in haversacks to make a dinner from, when the regiment arrived in camp, usually about half-past three to four o’clock in the afternoon, the men would be thirsty, hungry, hot and dusty. While such service may not be equal to a day’s march in an active campaign, yet for the regiment to perform it with so few men falling out of the ranks from fatigue, as was the case, shows what good material for service composed the regiment.

These drills were not without their attendant scenes and excitements. Crowds of negroes, of both sexes, would hover around the ground to hear the bands of music and witness the evolutions. Colonel Farr would frequently lose his temper and damn both officers and men; Colonel Marsh, Forty-Seventh Massachusetts Volunteers, particularly meriting the displeasure of the brigade commander, and received many of that officer’s choice remarks. Colonel Marsh was not a military man. The way in which he managed to twist his regiment around, mix the companies up and the brigade also, caused more laughter among the men than any other incident. It was amusing to see the expression of wonder on the face of Colonel Marsh when his regiment would be out of place, with the brigade standing at ease, waiting for him to place the regiment where it belonged, and Colonel Farr, accompanied by his entire staff, coming up at a full gallop to know “What in h--ll is the matter now?” Captain “Ned” Bird, Company I, Forty-Seventh Massachusetts, acting as major, would always have to give the correct orders that brought his regiment into proper position.

At a brigade drill which took place on the twenty-sixth of February, the new colors, which had been sent to the regiment by Governor Andrew, to replace those lost at Galveston, were unfurled and carried in the ranks for the first time. This second set of regimental colors never trembled from the whistle of bullets or fluttered amid smoke from powder during the term of service. They were seldom used, consequently on the return home of the regiment they looked new, bright colored and clean, as though fresh from the designer’s hand.

Brigadier-General Sherman impressed an observer very favorably. He was a regular army officer, familiar with all details of the service, courteous in manner towards all officers--a thorough soldier and gentleman. When inspecting the brigade assembled for a drill, February 19th, on reaching the Forty-Second, in position for inspection, he noticed the regimental colors were missing. He sharply called the attention of Lieutenant-Colonel Stedman to the fact, and when informed they had been lost at Galveston his tone of voice quickly changed; lifting his hat he replied: “I beg your pardon, colonel.” There is no importance attached to this incident, except that it showed the thoroughbred officer, and made quite an impression on those near enough to hear the conversation, engendering a feeling that here was an officer to be trusted, and his orders could be obeyed with confidence. Not many volunteer officers display such tact and discrimination.

During February the following additional changes by detail occurred: Private Martin Proctor, Company F, was made steward for the field and staff officers’ mess at regimental headquarters; on that duty until relieved in July in consequence of sickness.

February 2nd--Private Henry E. Putnam, Company E, was detailed as clerk at brigade headquarters by brigade orders, where he remained until July, and then returned to his company.

February 18th--Private Edward J. Worcester, Company E, was made regimental armorer, a position he held until his term of service expired, _vice_ Private Loud, detailed to assist Lieutenant Pease.

February 18th--Company K left the regiment to act as pontoniers to the Nineteenth Army Corps.

February 25th--Captain Cogswell, Company F, appointed as corporals George L. Stone and Sylvander Bothwell, in place of C. H. Woodcock and E. A. Spooner, who preferred to join the regimental band.

At the close of February there were present for duty in the four companies at Gentilly Bayou, and Company K, in New Orleans, twenty officers and four hundred and twenty-five men. Present sick in hospital, seventeen men. The average sick per day of the regiment during February was: taken sick, five; returned to duty, five; in hospital, fourteen; in quarters, eleven. Two men were sent to general hospitals in New Orleans. Surgeon Hitchcock returned to duty on the twenty-fourth, relieving Surgeon Smith, and Surgeon Heintzelman reported for duty March 1st.