"PHILADELPHIA PRESS" NARRATIVE. GRAND ECORE., LA., April 10, 1864. time, and the most serious apprehensions are marched to Natchitoches, an old Indian and entertained for its safety. The transports had French settlement on the banks of what is called, gone as high up as Springfield Landing, expect- by a strange perversion of words, the "old Red ing to meet the land forces at that place. The River." Natchitoches is as old as Philadelphia, rebels are swarming along the river, and will and so queer and quaint, that I would be tempted sink every boat if they can. to write you a letter about it, if the events of this busy time were not so urgent. About four miles from Natchitoches, on the river, there is another settlement of dingy houses called Grand The object of General Banks's spring campaign Ecore. The river here, in one of its angry, is political as well as military. The importance whimsical moments, seems to have abandoned of the South-West may be properly estimated one bank and left it a low, wide, shelving plain, when we consider our relations with Mexico, and and so violently intruded upon the other bank the embarrassments occasioned by the French that it is now a high, ragged bluff, with the sides interference with that republic. The occupation in a condition of decay, as every rain-storm of Brownsville, on the Rio Grande, by General slices off layer after layer of earth. This is Banks, last year, did much toward checking the what is called Grand Ecore, and when our army designs of the French Emperor. An American occupied Natchitoches, General Banks came army was placed on the frontier of the new-hither and made it his headquarters. Admiral made dependency, and any diplomacy between Porter, with his gunboats, accompanied him, and Davis and Napoleon was thus shattered and it is now the headquarters of the army and navy. silenced. That occupation was merely a check. The rebels seem to have contemplated holding To make it a checkmate, the capture of Shreve- Grand Ecore, for on the bluffs around the settleport was necessary. This town occupies a point ment the remains of works intended for large in the extreme north-western part of Louisiana, guns and as rifle-pits, may be seen. These were near the boundary line of Arkansas and Texas. built last summer when General Banks made a At the head of steamboat navigation on the Red feint upon Shreveport by way of diverting the River, in the midst of the largest and richest cot- attention of the enemy from his attack upon Port ton district in the trans-Mississippi department, Hudson. No attempt was made to fortify it the rebel capital of Louisiana, the headquarters when the present movement began on Sunday, of Kirby Smith, and the dépôt of supplies for April third. General Banks arrived here, and the rebel army, Shreveport is as important to went into camp in a beautiful meadow ground,. this department as Chattanooga or Richmond. skirted by pine woods, about two hundred yards If purely military considerations had controlled, from shore, and near a small shallow stream, it is probable that the armies of this department with pine trees growing in it, which the inhabitwould have been devoted to an expedition against ants call a lake. The headquarters of General Mobile, or a coöperating movement with the Franklin were at Natchitoches. army of General Sherman. But the Government That army consisted of about twenty thousand desired Shreveport and the undisturbed posses- men, and was thus commanded: The cavalry sion of the Mississippi, and General Banks was by General Lee, formerly of Grant's army-said charged with the duty of taking it. His army to be a favorite of the Lieutenant-General, and consisted of a part of the Nineteenth army corps, with the reputation of being an efficient and actwhich he formerly commanded in person; aive officer. The artillery was under Brigadierportion of the Thirteenth army corps, under General Richard Arnold, a captain of the Second General Ransom; and a portion of the Sixteenth artillery, in the regular army, and chief of the army corps, under the command of General Smith. The Nineteenth corps is composed mainly of Eastern troops, and came with General Banks when he assumed command of this department. It is now under the command of General William B. Faulkner, formerly of the army of the Potomac, who is next in authority to General Banks. The divisions commanded by General Smith were recently in Grant's army, and in the corps commanded by General Hurlbut. They were sent to aid in the movement upon Shreveport, and began their operations by capturing Fort De Russy, and thus opening the Red River. General Smith occupied Alexandria, the parish-town of Rapides, situated on the Red River, and one of the most beautiful towns in the State. Alexandria was thus made the base of operations against Shreveport, and General Banks, proceeding thence in person, assumed command of the army. After concentrating at Alexandria, the army 1 service in this department. General Franklin was second in command of the forces. He had one division of his army corps with him, that commanded by General Emory. The division of General Green was left at Alexandria to hold the post. General Smith's force consisted of two divisions. General Ransom's force also consisted of two divisions. On this calculation I make the estimate that the army around Grand Ecore, under General Banks, on the morning of the Sunday he assumed command, numbered altogether twenty thousand men. With this army he began his march. The country through which he was to move was most disadvantageous for an invading army. The topography of Virginia hasbeen assigned as a reason for every defeat of the army of the Potomac; but Virginia is a garden and a meadow, when compared with the low, flat pine countries that extend from Opelousas,. far in the South, to Fort Smith in the North, and cover hundreds of thousands of square miles. There are few plantations and fewer set- began to fali. It continued to fall, and for the tlements. These are merely built in clearings, remainder of the day we had a storm of unusual of pine logs, thatched and plastered with mud. fury. This delayed the march so much that it was I have ridden for fifty miles into the heart of this dark before the General reached the encampment pine country, and from the beginning to the end of General Franklin, on Pleasant Hill. The rain of the journey there was nothing but a dense, was then pouring in torrents, and the shelter of impenetrable, interminable forest, traversed by a tent and a cup of coffee became luxuries that a few narrow roads, with no sign of life or civil- even a Sybarite would have craved. Early in ization beyond occasional log houses and half- the day, on Thursday, our cavalry had passed cleared plantations-the bark being stripped from beyond Pleasant Hill, and about two miles above, the trees, that they might rot and die in a few near a ravine, they had met the rear-guard of the months, and thus save their lazy owners the enemy. A sharp skirmish ensued. The fighttrouble of cutting them down. Into this country ing became so earnest at last, that General Lee General Banks was compelled to march. He began to doubt the ability of his cavalry to force found, in the beginning, that two arms of his a passage, and sent to General Franklin for a service would be almost worthless. So long as brigade of infantry, as a reenforcement. The he marched, his cavalry might picket the woods enemy were driven, however, before the infantry and skirmish along the advance; but in action arrived, with severe loss, the cavalry being comthey would be as helpless as so many wagon-pelled to dismount, and fight through the woods. trains. His artillery would be of no use unless In this skirmish we lost about fifty men, killed, he should manage to get the enemy into an open wounded, and missing. clearing, which was as improbable as it would be This skirmish convinced us that the enemy in to get troops with works to fight in front of them. front were in more than usual force. We learned The country was little more than a great masked from prisoners that Lieutenant-General E. Kirby battery. It was an unproductive, barren coun-Smith, of the rebel army, was in command, that try, and it became necessary for permanent military operations to carry along every thing that an army could use. Such a thing as subsisting an army in a country like this could only be achieved when men and horses can be induced to live on pine trees and resin. General Banks had very much the same difficulties to meet that Lord Raglan found in the Crimea. In one respect they were greater. For, while our commander was compelled to march his army as a movable column, he was also compelled to keep open a long and dangerous line of communication. I make these explanations now in order that you may more particularly understand the nature of our recent operations, and give General Banks the credit that I feel to be due to him and to the army un-pelled to halt and repair them, building bridges, der his command. About thirty-four miles from Grand Ecore there is a clearing of more than usual size, and upon it there are built more than the ordinary number of houses, and showing more than the common degree of enterprise and taste. This clearing forms a plateau, and as it rises as high perhaps as fifty feet, the people have taken advantage of the fact, and called it "Pleasant Hill." Against this point it was determined to march. We knew that the rebel army was in that direction, and it was not at all unlikely that they would make a stand and show us battle. The army marched accordingly Lee leading the advance, moving slowly with his cavalry, and followed as rapidly as possible by the infantry divisions of General Ransom. By Thursday, April seventh, the whole army was in motion, and the advance was nearing Pleasant Hill. General Banks broke camp, and with his staff and a small escort rode to the front. Before him were two thirds of his army; behind him, the remainder, under General Smith, and composed of many of the bravest veterans in Grant's army, was marching rapidly. We had not ridden more than ten miles when the rain his trains had fallen back on the road to Mansfield, and that his army was retreating with more than usual disorder. It, of course, suggested itself that our pursuit should be rapid, and, if we showed proper enterprise, we might capture Mansfield and the whole train of the rebel army. An order was given that the army should march early in the morning, and shortly after dawn the whole force was on the advance, General Banks and staff following. The advance was pushed with energy. Our army skirmished all the way, and once or twice the enemy made a demonstration of force. Our troops quietly drove them, and we moved on. The roads began to be in a horrible condition, and frequently we were com At His removing stumps, and widening the paths. A brief ride This was shortly after noon. brought the General to the advance. He found the cavalry slowly pushing on, and the enemy disputing their march. It was a tedious process. Four o'clock had passed, and the long shadows of the evening were darkening the pine woods. Ransom's division fought with intrepid bravery, all things considered the sudden attack, the panic-stricken cavalry, and the number of the enemy-with a bravery that cannot be too highly commended. The rebels, however, saw their advantage, and pressed it. In the beginning of the fight General Ransom was struck in the knee, and carried from the field. This dispirited the men, for they all loved the young commander, and rejoiced to speak his praise. The fight became furious, and for a few minutes there was doubt, and gloom, and anxiety among the Federal commanders. Aid after aid galloped down the road to bring up the Third division of the Thirteenth corps, commanded by General Cameron. It was evident Ransom's men could not stand the attack. It was doubted if even Cameron's men would be more successful. But other troops were behind-Emory and his splendid divisionand we knew that the day was ours if time only permitted us to make a proper disposition of our forces. Ransom's column finally broke, but not until Cameron's was formed in the rear to renew the battle. Through a long hour-an hour that seemed to be an age to all who stood under those pine trees on that Friday afternoon The quietly retiring foe-the quietly advancing to make them brave men, turned around without cavalry-the soldiers dismounted, and, creeping having seen a rebel, and ran likewise, so that from tree to tree, occasionally interchanging before the battle had really opened the road shots-and sometimes so many at a time that it presented the strange sight of hundreds of armed sounded like the badly-fired volleys by which and unarmed men hastening to the rear, some some of our militia escorts at home pay the last the pictures of fright, others of abject fear, and honors to a dead comrade. Still, we pushed on, carrying exaggerated stories to all who troubled making progress, but very slow progress indeed, them for information. until we reached a point that seemed to be about five miles from the bayou, and the clearing beyond, where Genera! Franklin had established his headquarters. At this point another clearing had been made for a plantation. It was roughly divided into fields for cotton and cane, and an old saw-mill near by seemed to indicate that the owner had a larger share of enterprise than is generally given to the chivalrous lords of these majestic pines. The irregular firing was at an end, for here the enemy ceased to creep, and seemed disposed to make a stand. Evidently we were marching too rapidly, and if they desired to save their trains they must fight for them. General Banks saw this, and ordered the infantry to the front to support the cavalry and make a spirited assault. In the mean time, in the event of the enemy being stronger than was expected, or too strongly posted, aids were sent to the rear to hurry forward the advance of Ransom's other division, commanded by General Cameron, as well as to General Franklin, directing him to advance with Emory's division of the Nineteenth army corps. We placed our artillery in position, and began to shell the woods where the enemy were posted. They made a feeble reply, but were evidently in strength. Our dismounted cavalry formed the first line of battle. The Fourth division formed in their rear, the line crossing the road, and extending its flanks into the woods. It was now about four o'clock, and it became evident, from the manner in which our cavalry attack was received, that the enemy was stronger than was anticipated. The events that I have been describing transpired very slowly, and the afternoon seemed to be wearing lazily away. But after four o'clock events began to grow and thicken with a bewildering fury that makes it difficult for a mere spectator like your correspondent to remember precisely what was done, and how it was done. The attack of our cavalry was weak and spiritless. The firing lasted for a few minutes, the discharges of musketry became incessant, the long, thin line of clay-colored rebels began to emerge slowly from the woods, firing constantly, but always advancing at a pace that seemed like an uncertain, shuffling run. Their fire was too strong for our cavalry, and it fell back with precipitation-too much precipitation it proved; for before Ransom had his line properly formed, he was compelled to meet the onset of the whole rebel force. The retreating cavalry had partly demoralized his men, for in the heat of action, and being where they could not see the field, they could not understand why this multitude of flushed and frightened men should thus be running from the scene of battle. Many who wanted nothing but a cheerful look or nod the fight raged. The enemy had a temporary advantage, and they pressed it with an energy that seemed to be appalling. They must have suffered terribly, for our guns poured into their lines one constant fire. Our men fought them with unavailing valor, for all the disadvantages were on their side. If I have succeeded in making plain my account of this fight, the reader will understand that our forces were in an open space-a pine wood clearing—that our line of advance was one single, narrow road, and that, having made the attack ourselves, we found the enemy superior, and were compelled to make a defensive fight. There were other troubles. The country was so formed that artillery was almost useless. We could not place a battery without exposing it in a manner that suggested madness, and yet we had the guns and were compelled to fight them. A further disadvantage was to be found in the long trains that followed the different divisions. The cavalry had the advance; immediately behind came the baggage-wagons, moving in a slow, cumbersome manner, and retarding the movements of the infantry. This made it impossible for us to have our divisions in supporting distance, and when the time came for that support, it could not be rendered. General Banks perceived this at once, but it was too late to remedy it, and he was compelled to fight the battle in The the best manner possible. Ransom's division deavored to rally his men, but they would not had been engaged and routed. Cameron's divi- listen. Behind him the rebels were shouting sion was in the thickest of the fight. General and advancing. Their musket-balls filled the Franklin had arrived on the field, and a division air with that strange file-rasping sound that war of his magnificent corps, under General Emory, was pushing along rapidly. General Banks personally directed the fight. Every thing that man could do he did. Occupying a position so exposed that nearly every horse ridden by his staff was wounded, and many killed, he constantly disregarded the entreaties of those around, who begged that he would retire to some less exposed position. General Stone, his chief of staff, with his sad, earnest face, that seemed to wear an unusual expression, was constantly at the front, and by his reckless bravery did much to encourage the men. And so the fight raged. The enemy were pushing a temporary advantage. Our army was merely forming into position to make a sure battle. Then came one of those unaccountable events that no genius or courage can control. I find it impossible to describe a scene so sudden and bewildering, although I was present, partly an actor, partly a spectator, and saw plainly every thing that took place. The battle was progressing vigorously. The musketry-firing was loud and continuous, and having recovered from the danger experienced by Ransom's division, we felt secure of the position. I was slowly riding along the edge of a wood, conversing with a friend who had just ridden up about the events and prospects of the day. We had drawn into the side of the wood to allow an ammunitionwagon to pass, and although many were observed going to the rear, some on foot and some on horseback, we regarded it as an occurrence familiar to every battle, and it occasioned nothing but a passing remark. I noticed that most of those thus wildly riding to the rear were negroes, hangers-on and serving men, for now that we have gone so deeply into this slaveholding country every non-commissioned officer has a servant, and every servant a mule. These people were the first to show any panic, but their scamper along the road only gave amusement to the soldiers, who pelted them with stones, and whipped their flying animals with sticks to increase their speed. Suddenly there was a rush, a shout, the crashing of trees, the breaking down of rails, the rush and scamper of men. It was as sudden as though a thunderbolt had fallen among us and set the pines on fire. What caused it, or when it commenced, no one knew. I turned to my companion to inquire the reason of this extraordinary proceeding, but before he had the chance to reply, we found our selves swallowed up, as it were, in a hissing, seething, bubbling whirlpool of agitated men. We could not avoid the current; we could not stem it, and if we hoped to live in that mad company, we must ride with the rest of them. Our line of battle had given away. General Banks took off his hat and implored his men to remain; his staff-officers did the same, but it was of no avail. Then the General drew his sabre and en has made familiar to our fighting men. teams were abandoned by the drivers, the traces cut, and the animals ridden off by the frightened men. Bareheaded riders rode with agony in their faces, and for at least ten minutes it seemed as if we were going to destruction together. It was my fortune to see the first battle of Bull Run, and to be among those who made that celebrated midnight retreat toward Washington. The retreat of the Fourth division was as much a rout as that of the first Federal army, with the exception that fewer men were engaged, and our men fought here with a valor that was not shown on that serious, sad, mock-heroic day in July. We rode nearly two miles in this madcap way, until on the edge of a ravine, which might formerly have been a bayou, we found Emory's division drawn up in line. Our retreating men fell beyond this line, and Emory prepared to meet the rebels. They came with a rush, and, as the shades of night crept over the tree-tops, they encountered our men. Emory fired three rounds, and the rebels retreated. This ended the fight, leaving the Federals masters. Night, and the paralyzing effect of the stampede upon our army, made pursuit impossible. The enemy fell back, taking with them some of the wagons that were left, and a number of the guns that were abandoned. Although its results might seem to be more unfortunate than the real events of the day would justify us in believing, this battle convinced us of the strength of the rebels in our front, and their determination to resist our advance. It became necessary to fight a battle, and, as we could not do so on ground so disadvantageous, General Banks ordered the army to occupy Pleasant Hills, the position in our rear, that had been held by General Franklin on the morning of the fight. The division of General Emory remained on the field, picketing the front. The headquarter trains were removed back to Pleasant Hill, and the divisions of General Smith were formed in line of battle, in which position they remained the whole night. The divisions of Ransom and Cameron, which had suffered so much in the engagement, were withdrawn from the field. When this had been done, Emory slowly withdrew his line to a point about two miles beyond Pleasant Hill. General Banks made his headquarters on the left of the elevation, and shortly before daybreak he arrived in camp, accompanied by his staff. The tents were pitched, and a hasty cup of coffee served for breakfast. Having described as faithfully as possible the events of this bloody day, it now becomes my duty to describe one of the most brilliant and successful battles of the war. The first day's engagement was an accident. Nothing but the discipline of the troops, and the presence of mind displayed by the Commanding General, prevented looks through spectacles, giving him the appearance of a schoolmaster. General Arnold, the chief of artillery, with his high boots, and his slouched hat thrown over his head, seemed the busiest of all. The other members of the staff, colonels, and majors, and captains, completed the group; with orderlies in the distance, and servants chiding or soothing their masters' restive horses, and the body-guard dismounted and dozing under the trees. It was rather a tedious party, and group after group formed and melted away, and re-formed and discussed the battle of the evening before, and the latest news and gossip of New-Orleans, and wondered when another mail would come. It might have been a parade; it might have been a fair-day, and these men around us so many plain farmers who came to receive medals for their cattle and swine, and hear the county lawyer deliver the agricultural address. it from becoming a disaster. On the second day we retrieved and redeemed all that had been lost. Pleasant Hill, as I have said before, is a clearing in the midst of these vast pine woods, about thirty-five miles from the Red River, on the road that leads from Natchitoches. It forms a plateau that rises to a noticeable elevation above the country around. It was probably intended as a settlement of more than usual importance, for I noticed an unfinished seminary, a church, a sawmill, many fine houses, and one or two that would have done credit to our Northern towns. The land was in a high state of cultivation, and every acre seemed to be traversed by ridges of ploughed soil. On the elevation where the unfinished seminary stands, a complete view of the whole field could be obtained, and with a glass, the features and the rank of men at the other could be readily seen. Here we determined to make a stand. The day was as bright and It certainly could not be war, and yet clear and fresh as a May day in the North, and the slow rumbling of gun and caisson, the octhe air was so bracing that the officers found casional shell bursting from the cannon, whisttheir great-coats grateful. The morning passed ling in the air, and exploding in the woods beon. The plateau had the appearance of a parade- yond; the sudden musket-shot, and the distant ground on a holiday. For any one man to see cheer-all gave the picture the deep and deathly all that was to be seen, or to understand the tints that made it a battle-piece. It is curious to different movements of the armed and uniformed study the feelings which such a scene produces. men before him, would be impossible. Regi- This morning scene became so weary and tame mnts marching to the right, and regiments that, from very languor and apathy, I began to marching to the left, batteries being moved weave up the bright and real tints of the picture and shifted, cavalry squads moving in single with as many unique fancies as the imagination file through the brush, now and then an aid could suggest, and, finally, turning over on a pine galloping madly, or an orderly at full speed, board, which was resting against a fence, and driving his spurs, and holding an order or made an inviting bed for a weary man, endeavored despatch between his teeth, bugles sounding the to regain a portion of the sleep that the last different cavalry calls, and drums repeating the night had taken away. I had scarcely time for orders of the captains, all passed and repassed, wooing a nap when the General called for his and controlled the vision, making very much the horse and proposed to go to the front. The difimpression that a spectator in the theatre receives ferent generals around him returned to their comas he looks upon a melodrama. In an inclosure mands, and, slowly picking our way out of the near the roadside was a small cluster of gentle- yard, we rode along the ridge to an elevation men to whom all this phantasmagoria had the near at hand, and from thence surveyed the field. meaning of life, and death, and power, and fame. It was one of those scenes that battles rarely General Banks, with his light-blue overcoat but- present, but which enables us to see what is toned closely around his chin, was strolling up really the pomp and glory of war. Below, or and down, occasionally conversing with a mem- rather before us, was the whole army of General ber of his staff, or returning the salute of a pass- Banks. There were three distinct lines of battle, ing subaltern. Near him was General William two of which could be seen by the eye, the other B. Franklin, his face as rough and rugged as being hidden by the woods. The batteries were when he rode through the storms of the Penin- in position, and each regiment displayed its flag. sula, the ideal of a bold, daring, imperturbable On our flanks were small detachments of cavalry, soldier. There are few braver men than this who busily scoured the woods to prevent any Charles O'Malley of major-generals. He had two thing like a surprise, or a movement in our rear. horses shot under him the day before. His face It was now eleven o'clock, and our whole army was very calm that morning, and occasionally was prepared for action. The generals had dehe pulls his whiskers nervously, as though he termined to await the attack of the enemy, and scented the battle afar off, and was impatient finding it impossible to subsist the army in a to be in the midst of the fray. General Charles country without water or forage, concluded to P. Stone, the chief of staff, a quiet, retiring man, move the trains back to Grand Ecore, there conwho is regarded, by the few that know him, as centrate our army, and await news from the one of the finest soldiers of the time, was sit-coöperating column of General Steele, which is ting on a rail smoking cigarettes, and apparently more interested in the puffs of smoke that curled around him, than in the noise and bustle that filled the air. There was General Smith, with his bushy, grayish beard, and his eager eye, as it known to be moving through Arkansas on Shreveport. Accordingly, before our lines were formed, the trains were ordered to move, and before noon we had a clear field, and were ready for the attack. In order to look his army face to face, and |