It is a Rough Life: Taking New Orleans with the 12th Connecticut

First impressions often make lasting impressions, and for Sergeant Charles Evans of the 12th Connecticut, the first impression made by the citizens of New Orleans boils down to one word: surly. One example of this was when his regiment disembarked on the afternoon of May 2, 1862, the 12th Connecticut being among the first Union troops to occupy the city. 

“Late in the afternoon of May 2^nd, we were ordered to land in the midst of thousands of secessionist soldiers and citizens,” he wrote his brother back home in Connecticut. “As each company descended from the ship to the dock, they were brought to a front and ordered to load which gave the Rebels to understand what they had to deal with in case of a street fight. And we confidently expected it. The bitterness exhibited by the vast gathering boded nothing else. The women were more insulting than the men owing, I suppose, to the worldwide reputation of gallantry on the part of Yankee soldiers. The taunts were intolerable and only for previous orders not to notice them blood would have been shed before we left the dock.” 

The fight didn't occur, but this event helps illustrate the social tensions existing as the Confederacy's biggest city fell under Union control. Sergeant Evans' letter describing those tense early days of the occupation of New Orleans first saw publication in the July 11, 1862, edition of the Willimantic Journal.

 

The Spanish moss hangs from the live oaks in this idealized view of New Orleans during the war. His regiment, the 12th Connecticut, spent five days on provost marshal duty in the city before being sent to entrenchments north of the city along the Mississippi River. 

Camp Parapet, near New Orleans, Louisiana

June 1, 1862

          Well John, the 12^th Connecticut has had a rough time out South here on account of moving so much and the inefficiency or rascality of the quartermaster. The first time we embarked on the E. Wilder Farley at Ship Island for the Mississippi River, we lay off the island four days and during this time it was with the greatest difficulty that the men could get anything at all to eat. If orders had not come from General Benjamin Butler to disembark, they not being ready for us on the Mississippi, there would have been some strange doings on board judging from the mutinous aspect things were beginning to wear. As it was, some of them were taken before the colonel and they stood up for their rights like men.

Previous to our embarkation we had been under marching orders for three or four days and all company cooking utensils were packed away, leaving every man to shift for himself as best he could which was very poor, indeed. The day we went aboard the transport Farley was the 4^th of April and, on the 11th, we received marching orders again to be ready at any moment and expected to march the next morning. But the next day proved to be five tedious days and if it had not been for the kindness of a battery attached to the 7^th Vermont, some of our men would have absolutely suffered for the necessaries of life. Our captain and the lieutenants fared the same as the rest of the company, showing it was not their fault. Captain Braley has done all in his power for his men, both in sickness and in health, and I am confident that his company think as much as of their captain and feel as kindly towards him as does any company of theirs in the regiment which, if action indicates anything, is flattering.

On the 15^th the long roll beat and the regiment was ready for the march, but the orders were countermanded again and we were directed to be ready at daylight. We lay on the ground with our knapsacks for pillows until daylight when we were ready for the march again and by 11 o’clock were safe aboard the Farley. In the afternoon, we upped anchor and were off for the Southwest Pass of the Mississippi River in tow of the propeller Matanzas which had the 9^th Connecticut aboard. We arrived at the pass early on the morning of the 17^th. Our regiment being the advanced guard, a steamer was immediately sent to tow us up the river.

We were taken in sight of Porter’s mortar fleet which was pouring shells into Fort Jackson at the time at a terrific rate. One schooner of the fleet did such great execution that, as a contraband says who was cook in the fort during the bombardment, the Rebels gave her the name of the ‘one-eyed devil’ declaring that nothing human with two eyes could send shells with such accuracy. She said that every evening at 7 o’clock she was sure to be on hand with green boughs at her masthead to deceive the fort as she lay behind a point of land which was thickly wooded. This deception was not discovered by the Rebels till they saw some of the vessels dropping down the river fixed in the same way. I suppose the ‘one-eyed devil’ gave them fits for our informant says, “when she began to play on us, if fairly made my bones jiggle.”

"You have read the report of the fight" refers to the passage of Farragut's fleet past Forts Jackson and St. Philip on April 24, 1862. The 12th Connecticut followed Farragut into New Orleans several days afterwards and went on provost marshal duty. 

You have read the report of the fight, of course. After the chain was broken and the fort had surrendered, we proceeded on our way up the river, towed by a gunboat and after a passage of two days and one night came to anchor off New Orleans about 8 p.m. on the 30^th of April. The next morning, we ran alongside the levee, each company separately receiving wholesome advice from our beloved colonel preparatory to going ashore. I don’t think there is a man in the regiment but what would stand by him to the last.

Late in the afternoon of May 2^nd, we were ordered to land in the midst of thousands of secessionist soldiers and citizens. As each company descended from the ship to the dock, they were brought to a front and ordered to load which gave the Rebels to understand what they had to deal with in case of a street fight. And we confidently expected it. The bitterness exhibited by the vast gathering boded nothing else. The women were more insulting than the men owing, I suppose, to the worldwide reputation of gallantry on the part of Yankee soldiers! The taunts were intolerable and only for previous orders not to notice them blood would have been shed before we left the dock.

About 9 o’clock in the evening while under the command of Colonel Deming, we started for the custom house through dark streets as the city authorities had the streetlamps put out for some undivulged purpose and for want of light to find the way, we countermarched back to the dock where we lay on our arms all night in a heavy dew. We threw out a guard, but nothing occurred. Next afternoon we marched to the park in front of City Hall where we planted the stars and stripes and the Connecticut state colors. We remained there five days, our regiment doing provost duty in the city in the meantime.

We then proceeded up the river and took possession of these earthworks which are about 3-1/2 miles long. The moment the Rebels heard we were coming up the river, they spiked the guns, burned their gun carriages, threw their ball, grape, and canister into the river, then put for the swamp with more than Bull Run speed. The old general who commanded them, a Frenchman, lost his way in the swamp and was without food for four days.

I wager 4,000 men could have held this place against 30,000. The fortification is an immense work and must have been built at vast expense. There are some other works also in this vicinity that are not quite completed. We came up the river just in the nick of time as a little longer postponement of our visit was all they needed to complete their preparations for our reception. They had four or five ironclads nearly finished as well as an immense raft costing $5,000 loaded with barrels of tar which was to be fired and cut loose to drift down against our fleet. Again, there was a heavy chain cable at this post intended to be stretched across the river. All these nice little arrangements were cut short of their consummation by our opportune arrival and the skedaddling propensity of the Rebels. They destroyed the gunboats before they fled. No advance of General Butler’s forces has met with a decided stand.

There are other regiments at Camp Parapet; the 9^th Connecticut was here but has gone on to Baton Rouge to reinforce General Williams. The contrabands are running a streak of ill luck just now. For the first week or two we encamped here the runaways were permitted to remain with us and no owner could recover them unless they took the oath of allegiance. That encouraged a vast number to leave their masters, but an order came the other day not to harbor any of them and to turn all out of camp except those who were absolutely needed about the cook tents.

A great number of them were sent up the river the other day to work on a crevasse in the levee and after that job was done, they were sent home to their owners. I can’t understand it. One of the slaves owned on a plantation about two miles from here received 400 lashes for attempting to seek his liberty. On the morning of the day I visited the plantation the poor fellow was turned out for the last hundred lashes. He was literally flayed alive.

A planter nearby came to me on day on picket and complained bitterly of the soldiers digging his potatoes. Besides, they had taken a Negro boy from him whom he had treated as well as his own children and hoped the soldiers who do the same by him. I suspected the planter of lying from his hypocritical appearance and hunted up the boys to see how so well treated a specimen of chattelism looked. His back was all scars! The boy said, “Massa is a bad man. He prays every day for the yellow fever to kill off the damned Yankee soldiers or for the river to rise and drown them out. But when he talks to the Northern men, he’s very nice.” He is at least an ungrateful scoundrel, no doubt as a sergeant and six men are continually guarding his property night and day. But that is characteristic of these Louisiana Creoles- treacherous as the devil.

There has been a great deal of sickness with us since we landed in New Orleans and we are not by any means clear of it yet as there are 5-15 men out of each company on the sick list every day. Six men out of our company have had their names handed in for a disability discharge from sickness. Our company generally enjoys tolerable health and your soldier brother now is about “as tough as a boiled owl.” It is a rough life. A pine plank to sleep on would be a luxury and water to drunk thinner than molasses is something we don’t expect to see for months yet as the Mississippi is muddier than usual from the recent freshets. The inhabitants here drink rainwater as long as God sees fit to send it down to them. When they do resort to river water, they filter it before drinking; with the poor soldier, it undergoes that process after.

Source:

Letter from Sergeant Charles P. Evans, Co. G, 12^th Connecticut Volunteer Infantry, Willimantic Journal (Connecticut), July 11, 1862, pg. 1