Camp, Court and Siege. Wickham Hoffman
abandoned.
CHAPTER IV.
Sickness.—Battle of Baton Rouge.—Death of Williams.—"Fix Bayonets!"—Thomas Williams.—His Body.—General T. W. Sherman.—Butler relieved.—General Orders, No. 10.—Mr. Adams and Lord Palmerston.—Butler's Style.
Of the events which immediately followed the council of war referred to in the last chapter, the writer knows only by report. He was prostrated with fever, taken to a house on shore, moved back to head-quarters boat, put on board a gun-boat, and sent to New Orleans. Farragut, with his usual kindness, offered to take him on board the Hartford, give him the fleet-captain's cabin, and have the fleet-surgeon attend him. But Williams declined the offer. Farragut then offered to send him to New Orleans in a gun-boat. This Williams accepted. The writer was taken to New Orleans, sent to military hospital, an assistant-surgeon's room given up to him, and every care lavished upon him; for one of Williams's staff—poor De Kay—wounded in a skirmish, had died in hospital. Butler had conceived the idea—erroneous, I am sure—that he had been neglected by the surgeons. When I was brought down he sent them word that if another of Williams's staff died there, they would hear from him. I did not die.
Meantime, unable to effect any thing against Vicksburg, with more than half his men on the sick-list, Williams returned to Baton Rouge. The rebel authorities, with spies everywhere, heard of the condition of our forces, and determined to attack them. Early one foggy morning twelve thousand men, under Breckenridge, attacked our three or four thousand men fit for duty. But they did not catch Williams napping. He had heard of the intended movement, and was prepared to meet it. Our forces increased, too, like magic. Sick men in hospital, who thought that they could not stir hand or foot, found themselves wonderfully better the moment there was a prospect of a fight. Happily a thick mist prevailed. Happily, too, they first attacked the Twenty-first Indiana, one of our stanchest regiments, holding the centre of the position. This fine regiment was armed with breech-loaders, the only ones in the Gulf. Lying on the ground, they could see the legs of the rebels below the mist, and fire with a steady aim upon them, themselves unseen. On the right the Thirtieth Massachusetts was engaged, but not hotly. The left was but slightly pressed. Williams had carefully reconnoitred the ground the afternoon before, and marked out his different positions. As the battle progressed, he fell back upon his second position, contracting his lines. As it grew hotter, he issued orders to fall back upon the third position. As he gave the order, the lieutenant-colonel of the Twenty-first, Colonel Keith, as plucky a little fellow as lived, came to him and said, "For God's sake, general, don't order us to fall back! We'll hold this position against the whole d—d rebel army." "Do your men feel that way, colonel?" replied Williams; and turning to the regiment, he said, "Fix bayonets!" As he uttered these words, he was shot through the heart. The men fixed bayonets, charged, and the rebels gave way. But there was no one competent to take command. The Fourth Wisconsin, on our left, waited in vain for the orders Williams had promised them, eager to advance, for he had meant that this regiment should take the rebels in flank. The victory was won, but its fruits were not gathered.
I think that grander words were never uttered by a commander on the field of battle as he received his death-wound than these words of Williams's. "Fix bayonets!" means business, and in this instance they meant victory.
Thomas Williams was a noble fellow. Had he lived, he would have been one of the great generals of our war. Butler told the writer that, had Williams survived Baton Rouge, it was his intention to have turned over the whole military command to him, and confined himself to civil matters. The "General Order" he issued on Williams's death is a model of classic and pathetic English. It is quoted as such by Richard Grant White in his "Miscellany." I give it entire, for it can not be too widely circulated, both on account of its style and its subject.
"Head-quarters, Department of the Gulf,
"New Orleans, August 7th, 1862.
"General Orders, No. 56:
"The commanding general announces to the Army of the Gulf the sad event of the death of Brigadier-general Thomas Williams, commanding Second Brigade, in camp at Baton Rouge.
"The victorious achievement, the repulse of the division of Major-general Breckenridge by the troops led on by General Williams, and the destruction of the mail-clad Arkansas by Captain Porter, of the navy, is made sorrowful by the fall of our brave, gallant, and successful fellow-soldier.
"General Williams graduated at West Point in 1837; at once joined the Fourth Artillery in Florida, where he served with distinction; was thrice breveted for gallant and meritorious services in Mexico as a member of General Scott's staff. His life was that of a soldier devoted to his country's service. His country mourns in sympathy with his wife and children, now that country's care and precious charge.
"We, his companions in arms, who had learned to love him, weep the true friend, the gallant gentleman, the brave soldier, the accomplished officer, the pure patriot and victorious hero, and the devoted Christian. All, and more, went out when Williams died. By a singular felicity, the manner of his death illustrated each of these generous qualities.
"The chivalric American gentleman, he gave up the vantage of the cover of the houses of the city, forming his lines in the open field, lest the women and children of his enemies should be hurt in the fight.
"A good general, he made his dispositions and prepared for battle at the break of day, when he met his foe!
"A brave soldier, he received the death-shot leading his men!
"A patriot hero, he was fighting the battle of his country, and died as went up the cheer of victory!
"A Christian, he sleeps in the hope of a blessed Redeemer!
"His virtues we can not exceed; his example we may emulate, and, mourning his death, we pray, 'May our last end be like his.'
"The customary tribute of mourning will be worn by the officers in the department.
"By command of Major-general Butler.
"R. T. Davis, Captain and A. A. A. G."
Williams was an original thinker. He had some rather striking ideas about the male portion of the human race. He held that all men were by nature cruel, barbarous, and coarse, and were only kept in order by the influence of women—their wives, mothers, and sisters. "Look at those men," he would say. "At home they are respectable, law-abiding citizens. It's the women who make them so. Here they rob hen-roosts, and do things they would be ashamed to do at home. There is but one thing will take the place of their women's influence, and that is discipline; and I'll give them enough of it." I used to think his views greatly exaggerated, but I came to be very much of his opinion before the war was over.
A curious thing happened to his body. It was sent down in a transport with wounded soldiers. She came in collision with the gun-boat Oneida coming up, and was sunk. Various accounts were given of the collision. It was of course reported that the rebel pilot of the transport had intentionally run into the gun-boat. I think this improbable, for I have observed that rebel pilots value their lives as much as other people. Captain (afterward Admiral) Lee lay by the wreck, and picked up the wounded: none were lost. Shortly afterward Gun-boat No. 1, commanded by Crosby, a great friend of Williams, came up. Lee transferred the men to her, ordered her to New Orleans, and himself proceeded to Baton Rouge. Crosby heard that Williams's body was on board. He spent several hours in searching for it, but without success. He reluctantly concluded to abandon the search. Some hours later in the day, and several miles from the scene of the disaster, a piece of the wreck was seen floating down the current, with a box upon it. A boat was lowered, and the box was picked up. It turned out to be the coffin containing the body. His portmanteau too floated ashore, fell into honest hands, and was returned to me by a gentleman of the coast.
It had been General Butler's intention, on my recovery, to give me command of the Second Louisiana, a regiment he was raising in New Orleans, mostly from disbanded and rebel soldiers. My recovery was so long delayed, however, that