THE BATTLE OF IRISH BEND. UP THE TECHE WITH GENERAL BANKS. SHARP FIGHTING, WITH SUNDRY PERSONAL EPISODES APRIL 14, 1863. Prof. H. M. WHITNEY, Beloit, Wis., Sergeant-Major 52d Mass. Volunteers. Before them Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. On the banks of the Têche are the towns of St. Maur and St. Martin. They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana.-[EVANGELINE- O-DAY, April 14, amends are to be made, for the time lost. Miserably wet, weary, and hungry, we throng the road, and stop only to find ourselves the reserve and spectators in a sharp action that has already begun. A bullet occasionally reaches here and hits a man. The enemy are strongly posted in dense woods and cane-brake before us, and protected by a fence, while our men have to charge across rough open corn-fields for half a mile. With faculties benumbed by the hardships of the past few days, we try to make out what is going on. It soon appears that the 3d Brigade are trying to dislodge the enemy from the woods. The Texas sharpshooters, of whose marksmanship we had so uncomfortable an experience before Port Hudson the following June, would seem to be represented here, for the loss is heavy among the officers; the 159th N. Y. loses its colonel, its lieutenant-colonel, its adjutant and other officers. A lieutenant of the 25th Conn., after having a bullet through his blouse and another through his cap, takes a wounded man upon his back to carry him to the field-hospital, but lays him down again because another bullet has struck the poor fellow, inflicting a second and mortal wound. The firing on both sides is sharp and continuous, with frequent yelps from the field-pieces throwing shells over the 3d Brigade into the edge of the woods. The surgeons choose their location at a neighboring sugar-house, and are soon at work-you can tell where, by the direction taken by those who carry the wounded, perhaps dying, men. Some limp unaided in the same direction, their heads bleeding, or their clothes dripping blood. Now you hear a sudden crash of musketry; the enemy saved their fire till a body of our men almost reached them, and then mowed them down, as the British were served at Bunker Hill. Rebel prisoners in considerable numbers are marched to the rear or stay to identify their dead. The 3d Brigade seemed to be spent; in that little time they have lost 320 men. They are withdrawn, and the 1st Brigade takes the brunt of the action. The 2d Brigade essays to protect their right flank and does so; but the 52d gets tangled in a tall, thick, and thorny blackberry hedge that no Confederate force could pass, and sheds more blood in that way than in fighting with men. They are about to follow the 1st Brigade into action, when the firing slackens. The enemy have attained their object of protecting the flank of their main army, which is now in full retreat before Emory and Weitzel; so they give way before us and are gone. Our cavalry pursues them; the artillery whip after them and shell them; the infantry remain for that dreadful gleaning which has to follow so stiff a fight. Explosion after explosion is heard, near and far, as the rebels blow up their fleet on the Têche; the Newsboy, the Gossamer, the Era No. 2, and the gun-boat Diana are burned in this part of the Têche; the Cornie, a most valuable boat, is captured full of wounded men. Later, near New Iberia, four transports and the gunboat Hart are burned and the Cricket is sunk further up. Immense stores of food and ammunition are destroyed. Our little battle is known among the men as "Irish Bend." It does not make much of a figure in history because only a division was present and not all of that fully engaged, but it was sharp, obstinate, and bloody, was skillfully handled, and was as truly a battle as Gettysburg or Shiloh. The enemy were commanded by "Dick" Taylor, son of President Zachary Taylor. WHAT WAS IT? A * WONDERFUL MYSTERY UNEXPLAINED. By CAPT. J. W. DENNY, 25th Mass. .. N marching to Bachelor's Creek the column was halted a short time for a rest. It was far beyond the hour of midnight, and therefore, the wonted time had passed when churchyards are supposed to be haunted by all sorts of spirits, and the air is said to be filled with the harmonious music of the spheres. It is not to be supposed that the men forming the 25th Mass., educated as they were in the schools of New England, and possessing all the general intelligence marking the New England character, had gone down to North Carolina to be frightened by ghosts, owls, or live rebels, or that they would be inclined to believe in stories about ghosts, fairies, witches, and apparitions. We say this while we well remember that so great a poet as Robert Burns said, "Though no one can be more skeptical than I am in such matters, yet it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake off these idle fears." But if poor Betty Davison had concentrated all her ghost stories. upon the 25th Mass. Regt., as it was halted in the woods. upon the darkest of nights, the terror could not have exceeded that occasioned by the swift passage of the apparition, the phantom rider, the frightened deer, or whatever else it was or might be supposed to be. Briefly, while the battalion stood halted in the road, something struck the flank of Co. K, which had the advance. came like the rushing of a mighty wind, and, suddenly, the regiment opened to the right and left, and just as suddenly the men were heaped in either ditch, without any order or regard to rank-captains It and lieutenants, sergeants and corporals, men of the front rank and men of the rear rank, indiscriminately piled together like the pying of a printer's form, while each man's hair upon his head stood erect like quills upon a fretted porcupine. The 46th Mass. Regt., which followed at the time, met the same experience. B A COMRADE'S MOTHER'S SONG. ENEATH the hot midsummer Ended the song, the singer said, sun THE STORMING OF MARYE'S HEIGHTS. A Tornado of Shot and Shell. GALLANT SCENES OF HEROISM. LIVING WALLS SINK BENEATH THE TERRIBLE FIRE. A DESPERATE STRUGGLE.—A GRAND VICTORY. MAY 3, 1863. H. H. BOWLES, Co. C, 6th Regiment Maine Volunteers. URING the winter of 1863 there was organized in the 6th Corps what was known as the "light brigade." It was composed of the 6th Me., 5th Wis., 31st and 43d N. Y., and 61st Penn.-all volunteer regiments. These regiments were put under the command of Brig. -Gen. C. L. Pratt, of New York. Their badge was a green cross," worn upon the cap. On the afternoon of April 29 it was understood that we were soon to move, and that evening we broke camp and started for the Rappahannock river. All night long we made pack mules of ourselves, lugging pontoons down to the river, and so quietly was this done, that when we had launched the pontoons no intimation of our doings had reached the enemy across the river. A detachment of our regiment and details from other regiments were ferried across, and captured the rebel pickets on the south bank of the river before they knew what was up. This was about two miles below the city of Fredericksburg. The next morning, May 3, dawned bright and clear, and the thunder of guns told us the battle was on. Our heavy batteries on Stafford Heights commenced shelling the rebel works in a steady and deliberate manner, and, ever and |