We Of The South Remember: Keatchie, Mansfield, Pleasant Hill

No less than the grandest cities of stone for the heroes who fought “to defend the Union,” once the bodies were gathered from the fields where they lay. That task fell to those the dead ostensibly came to “liberate”: the black Southerners who had rushed¹ to answer Mr Lincoln’s call for Freedom! The 111^th Colored Infantry, for example, got the gig at Murfreesboro. This image is from the Cold Harbor battle in 1864. Not the worst slaughter of the war — that would be the Confederate charge at Franklin in November 1964 ordered by General John Bell Hood — but even Grant (who by that time was hurling companies composed of German tuba players into the meatgrinder) admitted regret.

The American cemeteries are managed by the National Park Service, and their upkeep paid for by you and I. Here’s the one in Vicksburg.

Southern cemeteries are altogether more humble affairs, such as this one in Keatchie, Louisiana; we were desperately poor after the war, and (like Grandma told me) there were years and years of penny drives and bake sales.

The Sons of Confederate Veterans maintains the Keatchie cemetery. If you’d like a flag to mark a grave, there are plenty available in one of Keatchie’s two retail establishments. Across the street is a grocery with a great short order cook, and down the road is former gas station called Sunrise Cookies. They are excellent, and the old boy who runs it makes bread and chicken salad too.

The dead buried at Keatchie died at the battle of Mansfield, fought 20 miles south, in 1864.

Lincoln’s war came to northwest Louisiana with the Red River Campaign. The Americans seized New Orleans under Admiral David Farragut in April 1861. Lincoln appointed Benjamin Butler military governor. Butler, a politician from the enlightened state of Massachussets, was a Lincoln favorite. It may not be in this piece, but soon you’ll understand why.

Butler was replaced by Nathaniel Banks, whom the good people of the Bay State chose as their governor. We suspect Banks thought he would look dandy in uniform, and a few years fighting for Freedom! would help his future political and financial prospects. The right palms were greased and soon our Nate was commanding troops in the field, to their considerable misfortune.

Napoleon Bonaparte once said that the even the humblest grognard has (potentially) a marshal’s baton in his knapsack. Marshal Michel Ney, who won eternal glory for his command of the rearguard in the retreat from Moscow, rose from the ranks; ditto Andre Massena, known as a first-rate commander and an exceptional plunderer.

Well, there was no marshal’s baton in the baggage of Banks, or Butler for that matter. Lincoln, ever aware that he belonged to an upstart radical² party elected with 39.7 of the popular vote, needed Mssachussetts in his pocket, and he was willing to spend as many Union lives necessary to ensure that. This required he place his creatures in positions of power, hence Butler and Banks. (Lincoln disliked George McClellan precisely because he was unwilling to throw away his troops with the same abandon as Grant.)

Butler is for another day. I don’t know why and don’t want to know why the good people of Massachussets chose him as governor, or if he was any good at it. Such skills as he possessed did not run in a military direction. Dispatched to the Shenandoah Valley in 1862 to defend Washington DC against General Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson, Banks added no laurels to the military glory of Massachussets. Stonewall gave him a solid a solid thumping at Front Royal and well-deserved humiliation at Winchester. The Americans were observed scurrying across the Potomac in disorder, to the amusement of all. Banks then combined with Generals Fremont and McDowell (neither are well known, and that’s for a reason) concocted some sort of scheme to trap Stonewall and his army. Banks failed miserably in reconnaissance and troop-handling. General Jackson escaped their little effort; soon the Army of the Shenandoah were entrained to Richmond, where General Robert E. Lee was in the process of sending McClellan back to the safety of Washington.

Banks blamed the War Department, the War Department blamed Banks. Outside the 7,000 Union troops who fell in the campaign — there were plenty more where they came from — Mr Lincoln kept Banks at the head of his army. In what may have been an effort to “change the narrative” after the disgrace in the Valley, Banks assayed another attempt at Stonewall in the summer of 1862. Cedar Mountain, as the battle came to be called, was not General Jackson’s best day as a commander — he was exhausted, it’s speculated — but Banks’ day was far, far worse. An attempt at a flanking maneuver — maybe he was trying to show Stonewall that Bay State boys were just as tough as Virginians — was cringe, as the kids say. Another rout.

That cost 2500 casualties, but it was overshadowed by disaster of Second Manassas engineered by John Pope, whose army barely escaped annihilation. Pope, who nobody liked, was sent to harass Indians. Not Banks: there were associated electoral votes. The “Railsplitter” authorized Banks to raise 30,000 fresh into an “Army of the Gulf.” Its orders were to advance up the Mississippi River and meet with Grant, who was then on one of his seven attempts to take Vicksburg.

One stalwart patriot answering the call to fight for Mr Lincoln’s abstractions was a distant relation of mine; the horror of my discovery of a Yankee in the woodpile is here. TL;dr: ashamed that his brother was serving as commander of General Bragg’s escort company with the Army of Tennessee, my patriotic ancestor was one of 5,000 Unionists who gladly “gave their all” at the Siege of Port Hudson in 1863. He was hit by a shell not long before his enlistment expired.

The Southern garrison eventually surrendered to the inexhaustible flood of Northern conscripts. There were the usual questions about Banks’ competence, but Mr Lincoln didn’t seem to mind. There was an election coming up.

Then one of the American commanders had the idea to send Banks up the Red River to Shreveport, Louisiana.

The history books will tell you it was a “strategic distraction.” Well of course it was, but there were also opportunities to generated revenues. There’s talk Banks failed at Port Hudson not simply due to military incompetence, but because he was “distracted” by “cotton deals.” Cotton could be seized and sold as prize money. Everyone wanted a bale, but the officers got the most. Of course Banks wanted a taste. Why the hell else would a good Massachussets man come down to this godforsaken swamp?

Here Banks models a new chapeau. He’s grinning. He’s counting his money.

Loot also explains the presence of David Porter, a U.S. admiral, on the expedition. He brought riverboats and sailors eager to be dispatched into the plains of Rapides Parish to “liberate” cotton from the supremacist traitors. Those included some of my folks who’d been there before the U.S. existed, raising cattle on land grant from Spain. I have no idea what happened to them — no records, which may be due to the Americans torching Alexandria, Louisiana and all of the state records. Or maybe Porter’s sailors killed them. War is hell.

Here's a map, for your reference.

Sent to deal with those people was General Richard Taylor, the son of U.S. president Zachary Taylor. He knew of Banks’ military worth, having commanded a brigade of Louisiana infantry, including the legendary Louisiana Tigers, under Stonewall in the Valley.

General Taylor staged his troops in Keatchie. Here’s an antebellum house in Keatchie, typical of antebellum architecture in this part of Louisiana:

There’s a flagpole in the front yard. I stayed there once, and came prepared:

Taylor marched his troops to Mansfield. Outnumbered by more than two to one, he set an ambush for Banks and his lads at the Sabine Crossroads just south of town:

Banks, alas, forgot about the “reconnaissance” idea. Maybe he was counting his money. 2,235 American patriots fell in the contest; less than than 1,000 for General Taylor.

Banks fled south, pursued by General Taylor. They clashed again at Pleasant Hill. Banks continued retreating. In a fit of spite he thought to burn the beautiful Creole town of Nachitoches, but (we’re told) was talked out of it by the mayor. We’ve heard, though, that the town managed to arrange an sufficient bribe:

Nachitoches, spared by Banks

There were the usual “questions” raised about Banks’ lack of any military ability; the cotton speculation – some naïve types in the U.S. were under the impression all the killings was for “freedom,” not loot. And complaints about Banks’ tenure as boss of New Orleans. Henry Halleck, head of the U.S. War Department, ordered an “investigation.” It found Banks’ regime characterized by “oppression, peculation and graft.” Consequences? Hardly. More like innovation. Banks and Porter had discovered the American way of war.

So Nathaniel Banks returned to Massachussets, whose proud citizens elected him as their Senator. Banks behaved in a thoroughly Republican manner: he banged the drums for Manifest Destiny, demanded the invasion of Canada to punish the British for allegedly supporting Confederate blockade-running. There’s indications he got a payoff from the Russians for supporting the Alaska purchase. President Rutherford B. Hayes named him U.S. Marshal for Massachussets. The good people of Massachussets appointed him commander of something called the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company of Massachusetts. A reward for getting so many of their sons, fathers and husbands killed in Virginia and Louisiana? No matter, it was for your sacred Union.

After the surrender, General Taylor was invited to dinner with officers of the U.S. Army. He shares the following:

There was, as ever, a skeleton at the feast, in the person of a general officer who had recently left Germany to become a citizen and soldier of the United States. This person, with the strong accent and idioms of the Fatherland, comforted me by assurances that we of the South would speedily recognize our ignorance and errors, especially about slavery and the rights of States, and rejoice in the results of the war. In vain Canby and Palmer tried to suppress him. On a celebrated occasion an Emperor of Germany proclaimed himself above grammar, and this earnest philosopher was not to be restrained by canons of taste. I apologized meekly for my ignorance, on the ground that my ancestors had come from England to Virginia in 1608, and, in the short intervening period of two hundred and fifty-odd years, had found no time to transmit to me correct ideas of the duties of American citizenship. Moreover, my grandfather, commanding the 9th Virginia regiment in our Revolutionary army, had assisted in the defeat and capture of the Hessian mercenaries at Trenton, and I lamented that he had not, by association with these worthies, enlightened his understanding. My friend smiled blandly, and assured me of his willingness to instruct me. Happily for the world, since the days of Huss and Luther, neither tyranny nor taste can repress the Teutonic intellect in search of truth or exposure of error. A kindly, worthy people, the Germans, but wearing on occasions.

1. Numerous contemporary sources suggest the freedmen were “encouraged” by Union bayonets. We’re sure that’s malicious propaganda.

2. The Republican Party was then home to any number of socialists who’d escaped the 1848 revolutions in Germany. You’ll hear one such speak at the end of this piece.