CHAPTER
FORTY-FIVE
The
first outward indication of Grant's shift in strategy came shortly
after 4:30am on Wednesday, 13 May, 1863, when the bloodied troops of
General Logan's 3rd division marched through the village
of Raymond, and surprisingly took the right hand fork in the road.
They were heading not toward the capital of Jackson, just 25 miles to
the east, but north. At an average pace of 3 miles an hour, on a
relatively good road, by noon they had reached the railroad town of
Clinton. Before the war 20,000 bales of cotton a year had been
shipped through this little village, but destroying this profit
making center of the Confederacy was not why Grant was so eager to
capture the place.
After
the bloodletting of 12 May, General John Gregg (above) withdrew his battalion
north of Raymond to a line along Snake Creek. But he could not stay
there. His little force was now reduced to less than 3,000 effectives
- healthy men still in organized units with ammunition and the spirit
to do battle. But this was the only force available to defend the
state capital. Allowing his men a few hours of rest, Gregg pulled
them back further to Mississippi Springs. But in the process,
because the Texas General had no cavalry, he lost contact with the
Yankees. The afternoon of 13 May, 1863, Gregg returned to Jackson, to
push every man he could westward, to defend the city.
The
small, almost insignificant village of Clinton, Mississippi fell
without a shot fired in its defense. In effect, Grant merely extended
his arm, that appendage being Logan's division (above), and the great prize
the Federal armies had striven for the past 5 months, dropped into
the palm of his hand like a ripe fruit. He now had only to close his
fist and the Gibraltar of the Confederacy, the western post
supporting the thousand mile long jugular that pumped life's blood
from the bounty of the trans-Mississippi region across the continent
to Richmond, Virginia would be sliced in two. The instant Yankee
soldiers picked up the first ten foot long iron rail from its bed or
set fire to the first bridge over a dry creek along the Southern
Railroad, the 45,000 rebel soldiers 40 miles to the east defending
Vicksburg were cut off.
The
Yankees spent the afternoon tearing up rails for a mile or more to
the west of Clinton Station. Anything in town they could not eat or
wear or use to rearm themselves, they burned. And while they did,
McPherson pushed the 13 regiments of 33 year old Brigadier General
Marcellus Monroe Crocker's 14th Division out the Jackson
road. And before the tail of McPherson's XVII Corps had even reached
the fork in the road, the 17,000 men of William Tecumseh Sherman's XV
Corps marched into Raymond on the Utica road. The next day, 14 May
they were to strike at the capital of the state of Mississippi.
The
first effect of the war on the 3,000 residents of Jackson was that it
unleashed inflation. Within a year a pair of boots cost as much as
$125.00, a pound of sugar was going for $3.50, Tea cost $7.00 a pound
and locally grown watermelons cost up to $25.00 apiece. Still, the
war remained a distant abstraction until April of 1862, when trains
delivered a small portion of the the 8,000 wounded from the bloody
fields around Shiloh Church, Tennessee.
That winter Jackson was
encircled by a single “mild” trench dug by slaves, when Grant
first invaded the state. By then the population had almost doubled,
consisting mostly of families of state workers, and those employed by
the Southern and the New Orleans and Ohio Railroads, and the cities'
textile and war industries, which turned out leather shoes and cotton
uniforms and tents for the states regiments.
And
there was also the Jackson Arsenal, in the College Green
neighborhood, 2 blocks east of the state capital building (above) and a block
south.
In the 2 story brick North School building in College Green – the boy's
school - some 80 men, women and children assembled ammunition, small
arms' cartridges up stairs and artillery shells on the ground floor.
The work was hard, the pay was low, the conditions abysmal, and the
outcome inevitable. At about 3:00pm on Wednesday, 5 November, 1862
there was horrific explosion, which blew apart the school. This was
followed by fires which set off many of the stored munitions.
The
Weekly Mississippian reported 2 days later, “ All the men and women
employed in the building...had been hurled to instantaneous
destruction...One man had a leg torn off and his brains literally
blown out. The body of a poor girl was hanging by one foot to the
limb of a tree...her clothes were still burning. Other bodies were
blown to the distance of from fifty to one hundred and fifty yards,
and presented a mutilated and most shocking appearance. The packages
of powder and the shells were yet continually exploding...The fire
engine was promptly on the ground, but could not do much owing to the
want of water.”
It
would appear that several people in authority knew full well the
unsafe conditions in the arsenal, since, as the Mississippian pointed
out, “The officers in
charge of the Arsenal...save one superintendent, were not on duty at
the site.” One was, in fact, “in his sick room.” Those who
died did so because they needed the money, and because they were
dedicated to the cause.
Then,
at about 10:30pm that very night “...a
fire broke out in (a South State Street)...jewelry and dry-goods
establishment...The fire raged northward...and destroyed the house
occupied by Mrs. Evans as a millinery establishment and continued its
ravages to Mr. Weirs, next to John Martz, next to Mr. John Robinson's
where the progress of the flames was arrested. Also destroyed was the
depot of the Southern Railroad with several surrounding buildings.
Several bales of cotton and a considerable quantity of goods were
also destroyed..." One resident noted that before dawn, many of
the goods saved from the burning homes and stores were then stolen by
looters. Now it felt as if the war was truly coming to Jackson.
A year of dread followed, and it began to weigh upon the citizens. As soon as Grant had crossed the Mississippi, General Pemberton had advised the governor to send the state archives into the interior. People took note of that. Less than a week later, civilians were looking for safety. The Mobile Register and
Advertiser newspaper noted “The trains for the interior are crowded with
non-combatants, and the sidewalks blocked up with cases, barrels, old
fashioned trunks and chests,..." Civilians were getting out, and soldiers, like General Gregg, were coming in.
And
the night of Wednesday, 13 May, 1863, General Gregg was startled to
discover yet another arrival in the capital of Mississippi,
Lieutenant General Joseph Eggleston Johnson. No one had been told to
expect the old man. But Gregg welcomed him, particularly because he
was closely followed by 3,000 reinforcements.
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