On
the Wednesday afternoon of 24 June, 1863, Captain Ferdinand Osmin
(Fred) Claiborne, commander of the Maryland 3rd Light
Artillery, received word that the Yankees appeared to be moving
toward the rebel trench line, a quarter mile south of the Hall's
Ferry road. The Maryland cannon were supporting Colonel Alexander
Reynold's Tennessee brigade, which had seen little action so far, in
part because the ground here was more broken, and in part because it
was five miles from the Yankee supply base at Chickasaw Bayou, and a
Yankee Supply road was still under construction. So it seemed
unlikely the Yankees were serious in their movements. Still, anxious
to be involved in the great siege, Fred borrowed a handheld telescope
from his cousin, Colonel William Howard Claiborne, and hurried
forward to see for himself.
Neither
Captain Claiborne, nor most of the crewmen in his battery, were from Maryland. Fred himself had been born in Vicksburg, but had
been raised, educated and joined the Confederate army in New Orleans.
He had been transferred to the 3rd Maryland while in
Richmond, Virginia, at the behest of one of his many cousins. Because of the continual "wastage" of war, most
of the 100 men in the unit had been drafted from East Tennessee or Georgia. So far, they had done most of their fighting
in Tennessee and Mississippi. Like an increasing number of
Confederate units, after 3 years of war, the 3rd Maryland
Artillery, were orphans.
Since the core ideology of the Confederacy was state's rights, state regiments were supplied by
state governments, And with no state politicians to protect them, the 6 guns of
the 3rd Maryland were repeatedly split up, the parts sent on
distant duties. Back in April, 3 guns had been assigned to the captured boat “Queen of the West”. And when it had been sunk at Grand Lake, Louisiana, all of those guns were lost, and 9 gunners drowned.
Just
days earlier, Fred had noted the sad condition of his men. “Our
rations are growing more scarce every day...We have a quantity of
bacon yet on hand, but...the men receive only one-quarter rations...
such as rice, pea meal and rice flour. The corn has given out long
since. Rations of sugar, lard, molasses and tobacco are issued, but
this does not make amends for the want of bread, and the men are
growing weaker every day.”
Today, seeing that the Yankees had
pushed a battery forward, and were opening fire, Fred Claiborne gave
the signal for his 3 remaining cannon to open fire as well. And as he
did so, a Yankee shell burst nearby and a chunk of spinning shrapnel
sliced off much of the Captain's face, killing him instantly. Just
another young man sacrificed to defend Vicksburg.
Doctor
Colonel Ashbel Smith (above), a Texan by choice and a reluctant rebel,
watched the decline of his men in the Texas Lunette as only a doctor
could. He noted the rations issued to his men had been, “...reduced
to little more than sufficient to sustain life. Five ounces of musty
corn-meal and pea flour were nominally issued daily. In point of
fact, this allowance did not exceed three ounces.” Educated at
Yale and in Paris, the 57 year old Doctor Smith had intimately
witnessed epidemics of cholera and Yellow Fever. Despite his own
iron constitution, the doctor recognized the inevitable prognosis for
Vicksburg. “...The health of the men did not seem to suffer
immediately from want of rations, but all gradually emaciated and
became weak...many were found with swollen ankles and symptoms of
incipient scurvy.”
Weeks
earlier, a “wag” within the city – unknown if the were civilian
or military – had written out a bill of fare for an imagined “Hotel
de Vicksburg”. The fantasy meal included “Mule Tail Soup,
followed by Mule Rump Roast Stuffed with Rice. Or perhaps the
discerning customers might prefer Mule Spare Ribs Plain with Mule
Liver Hashed” But those had times had been given way when all but a
hand full of the mules had been killed by federal artillery or
slaughtered. The current bitter joke among Pemberton's hungry army
was “Whatever became of Fido?” But in its turn, even that
desperate jibe was losing its humor.
Across
the lines, Grant could smell victory. A regular occupant of his
headquarters, Charles Dana (above) - the man sent by Secretary of War Stanton
to keep an eye on Grant – caught the general's optimism. On Monday,
29 June, 1863, Dana notified Stanton that “Two separate parties of
deserters from Vicksburg agree... rations have now been reduced
lower than ever; that extreme dissatisfaction exists among the
garrison, and that it is agreed on all hands that the city will be
surrendered on Saturday, July 4, if, indeed, it can hold on so long
as that.”
One
week more. Inside the trench lines, the rebels had been hoping and
praying for salvation, a salvation with a name –
the persnickety and talented 56 year old Joseph Eggleston Johnston.
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