He Tumbled Over Beautifully: Sharpshooting at Port Hudson
Captain Zenas Crane Rennie of Co. I, 49th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry wrote the following letter to the Pittsfield Eagle from Port Hudson, Louisiana on June 2, 1863. This extraordinarily honest account describes his leading a detachment of sharpshooters tasked with plinking off Rebel gunners from a 64-lb cannon that was proving particularly troublesome to the Union siege of that bastion. Captain Rennie had a reputation as a crack shot, and drew this tough assignment of sharpshooting gunners but as you will read below, the hunters soon became the hunted…
Captain Zenas Crane Rennie, Co. I, 49th Massachusetts Volunteers |
Near Port Hudson, Louisiana
June 2, 1863
We are
so full of excitement all the time that it is almost impossible for me to
control myself enough to write you an intelligible letter. Day before yesterday
Colonel [Charles J.] Paine, commanding our brigade, sent for me to come to his
headquarters. He invited me to come into his tent and asked me if I thought I
could shoot a man with a rifle at a distance of 25 rods [roughly 413 feet]- I
told him I thought I could. He then asked me to go out with him to the skirmish
line on the edge of the woods about a half mile from the breastworks of the
enemy’s breastworks where we climbed a tree and by the aid of a glass, obtained
a view of the whole line of the outer works of the enemy. The works are about
seven miles in length and three miles wide from the inside line to the river on
a road to Port Hudson. On each side of the road the enemy has a large gun
mounted- 64 pounders. Colonel Paine wanted me to take a detachment of 16 picked
men and crawl up as near as possible to their works and keep those guns
silenced by picking off the gunners.
I
immediately returned to camp and made the detail. I started with a Sharps’
rifle and crawled on my hands and knees about 800 yards through briars, brush,
etc. The ground was perfectly level but covered with felled trees, stumps, etc.
I proceeded in this way to within about 10 rods [165 feet] of the guns- only
five of my men followed me and they did their duty. The Rebs did not see us
until I fired the first shot and keeled over one of their men. He tumbled over
beautifully; I think I shot him square through the head.
The Rebels then concentrated their sharpshooters immediately in front of us and the moment we showed any part of our bodies they
would send a dozen shots at us. Our guns, which were stationed about a mile to
the rear, soon commenced firing and many of the shells burst directly over our
heads. I had nothing with me but a canteen of water, rifle, and revolver. We
laid there in the hot sun from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. and kept them from moving
their guns all that time. These were the same guns that raked our brigade so
terribly the day we made the attack on their works and you may calculate, I had
an old score to settle.
About 3 p.m. as near as I could judge, the
Rebs sent out a small detachment over their breastworks for the purpose of
flanking us. I ordered my men to retire and covered the retreat. The moment we
began to retreat, they began to pop at us. I had retreated a few rods and was
crouched behind a stump watching a chance to return some of their compliments
when a bullet came and shot a hole through my cap, cutting some of my hair, and
carrying my cap six feet to the rear. I immediately sighted one of them and
winged him beautifully; after this they fired not less than 50 shots at us and
it is my firm opinion they intended to hit someone.
We retreated as fast as possible under the
circumstances, the Rebs sending their compliments after us in the shape of
bullets thick and fast. After arriving inside our lines, I reported to Colonel Paine
and he expressed himself as greatly pleased with the success of our adventure.
He told me that he watched us nearly all day with his glass and when the Rebs
came out to flank us, he considered us captured for certain. I shall bring the
cap home with me if I have the good luck to go home. I tell you when that
bullet went whistling through my cap, it sent a cold shudder through me. [1]
After the war, Captain Rennie enjoyed a career in international business, living in both Sydney, Australia and San Francisco, California. After the 1906 earthquake destroyed his home, he relocated to Sydney, Australia and died there in 1923 at the age of 86.
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