VICKSBURG Chapter Twenty - Five

 

The Illinois and Iowa horsemen broke camp at about 6:00am, Sunday, 26 April, 1863. They paused long enough in Raleigh, Mississippi to capture the local sheriff and seize $3,000 in Confederate currency. It began to rain heavily in the afternoon, but Colonel Grierson drove his men on until they had reached the Strong River, outside of Westville, 40 road miles from their starting point that day.

As the rest of the command tried to find a dry spot to make camp, 4 companies were mounted on the freshest horses available and sent off into the wet dark. The man leading this group might have led the Grierson raid if Grierson had not made it back in time - 31 year old lawyer Colonel Edward Prince. His orders were to capture and hold the ferry across the Pearl River.  But for Colonel Grierson, the question,  now that the Vicksburg to Jackson railroad had been hit hard, was where to go after the ferry.

It seems obvious to me that it was obvious to Colonel Grierson that Lieutenant General Ulysses Grant was intending to launch a major assault against Vicksburg before the end of April. If not now, why the rush? Grierson had been urgently recalled from leave in Illinois to command the raid, arriving less then 24 hours before it was launched. And why send Grierson down the rebel right flank, unless Grant was intending on attacking the rebel left flank, probably in the region of Grand Gulf? So,  although no explicit orders had been issued, it seems obvious to me that Grierson was riding to meet Grant somewhere in the vicinity of Grand Gulf.

After a few hours sleep, Grierson got his weary men and horses moving again about midnight, Monday, 27 April. They crossed the Strong River bridge, which they burned behind them. Just about dawn, they arrived at the Pearl River. Although crossing the captured ferry took several hours, once again Grierson sent Colonel Prince ahead, this time to Hazelhurst. As they approached that village, on the north/south New Orleans, Jackson and Great Northern railroad, Prince decided on new bit of chicanery. He wrote out a dispatch addressed to General Pemberton in Jackson, 40 miles to the north. In it he claimed that the Pearl River ferry had been destroyed before the Yankees had arrived, and that they were last seen heading northeast, as if intending on hitting the Southern Railroad again, before joining with the Yankees out of Greenville.

The message was delivered by two "scouts" dressed in stolen rebel uniforms, and they watched as it was telegraphed to Pemberton. Shortly there after, Colonel Prince's tiny command captured the station, and almost took another train as well. However the engineer spotted a blue clad trooper and was able to reverse his engine back toward Jackson. And as it left the station, so did Colonel Prince's clever deception plan. 

He was forced to satisfy himself with burning a box car filled with artillery shells. And once again the sound of exploding shells drew the rest of Grierson's command to race into town, only to discover there was no battle. So the Yankees spent the rest of the day, tearing up track, burning the cross ties to heat the rails and bend them until they were useless.

Having finally received confirmation of Grierson's location from the observant engineer, Pemberton ordered the 6,500 infantrymen of General William Wing Loring's division down the rail line to Edward's Station to defend the all important Southern Railroad, and moved to encircle the Yankees with what little cavalry he had. The regiment under 49 year old lawyer and state representative Colonel William Wirt Adams (above)  rode out from Grand Gulf with instructions to close in from the west. 

They were joined by 2 irregular units - Porter's Partisans' marching from Jackson under Captain W.W. Porter, and coming in from the south was the First Tennessee Rangers under 42 year old Memphis lawyer, Colonel Robert Vinkler Richardson. And 28 year old Ohio native Colonel Clark Russell Barteau was ordered to slam the back door on Grierson by moving his 22nd Tennessee regiment of cavalry to Hazelhurst.

Colonel Grierson (above, center) did not know the trap was closing, but did not wait to find out. At 6:00am, Tuesday, 28 April his men and their weary mounts hit the roads again. Thankfully the roads were now dry, and the units made good time. 

About four hours later the Colonel dispatched 4 more companies of the 7th Illinois south to strike the New Orleans, Jackson railroad again, again burning rail cars, the depot and a bridge in the lumber town of Bahala, known locally "for the number and size of its saloons".  Meanwhile Grierson's command continued south west, to the village of Union Church - so named because when the village was founded around 1805, the few Methodists in the group had to worship in union with the majority Presbyterians.

Grierson and his 950 troopers were now within 60 miles of Grand Gulf. The Colonel could expect to hear of Grant's crossing the Mississippi somewhere close to that landing, today or tomorrow, or maybe the day after. But Grierson's union with Grant was not to be. About 1:00am, on the morning of Wednesday, 29 April, two "scouts" screening the 4 companies of the 7th returning from their raid stumbled into pickets for Wirt Adam's 400 troopers and militia, with artillery support, marching out from Grand Gulf. Thinking they were speaking with fellow rebels, the pickets revealed they were expecting to ambush the damn Yankees come morning, outside of Union Church.

At 6:00am that morning, Grierson rode out of Union Church headed west, as expected. But less than a mile later the majority of the command suddenly took a side road eastward, while leaving 4 companies at the cross roads, skirmishing with any curious rebels who got too close. 

It was hours before Wirt Adams pressed the skirmishes hard enough that they melted away into the Mississippi haze. Realizing at last that the Yankees had dodged his trap, an infuriated Adams gathered his men and set off in pursuit.

The morning was infuriating for both sides. As Grierson's men road east toward Brookhaven, Mississippi, they could hear behind them the thundering of Admiral Porter's ironclad's pounding the forts at Grand Gulf. The junction, and security, seemed so close. And the twisting back roads of Mississippi confused the troopers so much that Corporal Sudby would later write, " I do not think we missed traveling toward any point of the compass."

That afternoon Grierson's men galloped into the surprised railroad town of Brookhaven, destroying another dozen freight cars filled with arms and ammunition, tearing up more track, burning another bridge and capturing and paroling another 200 soldiers, either wounded and home on leave, or on recruiting duty. But there was a surprise here as well - hundreds of able bodied men seeking a parole of their own, which would exempt them from being drafted into the Confederate army until exchanged for civilians in northern states. In fact the people of Brookhaven were so friendly, Grierson camped there for the night, completing another 40 mile day.

Two miles south down the New Orleans, Jackson rail line was the little town of Bogue Chitto, which Colonel Grierson's raiders captured early on the Thursday morning of 30 April. They burned 25 more box cars and destroyed more track. And here once again, deep in Mississippi, they found strong pro union sentiment. By nightfall the exhausted troopers had reached Summit, Mississippi.

Nine hours behind the Yankees were the First Tennessee Rangers under Colonel Richardson. Sensing they were gaining, Richardson pushed his men to march through the night. Much closer that evening, just 5 miles to the west of Grierson, were the 400 troopers under Colonel Wirt Adams. Both Richardson and Adams planned to attack the Yankees 22 miles further south, the next stop on the New Orleans rail line - a little village of 400 just north of the Louisiana border, Osyka, Mississippi.

The Louisiana Legion under 50 year old lawyer, Colonel William R. Miles, marching northeast out of Port Hudson, was heading for the same location. And 39 year old Lieutenant Colonel George Gnatt, leading the 7th Tennessee Cavalry Battalion, was also converging to the same spot. Like a magnet the 950 union troopers of the 6th and 7th Federal Cavalry Regiments were drawing every rebel cavalry unit in Mississippi toward the little railroad town of Osyka.

The Federals stopped for the night of Thursday, 30 April, 1863, 15 miles south of Summit Mississippi, and 7 miles north of Osyka, Colonel Grierson (above) decided that since he had not yet heard of Grant's army crossing the river, come morning - Friday, 1 May, 1863, he would head for the Federal lines outside of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 100 miles to the southwest.

Of course,  on that very day,  Grant arrived on the Vicksburg side of the Mississippi River.

- 30 -

VICKSBURG Chapter Twenty - Two

 

About 5 hours after Porter's fleet sailed past the Vicksburg guns, just after dawn Friday, 17 April, 1863, 1,700 Federal troopers trotted out of the little village of Le Grange, Tennessee, heading south. They were led by an Illinois man who had harbored a deep distrust of horses since a "friendly pony" had cracked his 8 year old skull, put him in a coma for days, and almost blinded him for life 

He grew into a talented musician, and managed to support a family teaching music until 1861 when he felt compelled to volunteer to defend the union. And since that day he had pleaded to be an infantryman, or an artilleryman, anything to minimize interacting with equines. But superior officers kept assuring him that he would make a great cavalry man. And this morning, 37 year old Colonel Benjiman Harrison Grierson (above) was leading what would be the most effective cavalry raid of the entire American civil war.

In the romantic image of cavalry - dime novels to Hollywood movies - horses are mere props. In the reality, taking a horse into battle is leading a 900 pound 5 year old child to war. They panic without warning because they see and hear far more than humans. They have to be constantly coaxed, often coddled and always controlled. 

And they were the guilt of war in flesh and blood as the average life span of a horse in service was just 6 months. Most of the horses of the 6th and 7th Illinois and 2nd Iowa volunteer cavalry regiments were close to or already past that date. 

On this warm spring day, the unsuspecting oat fed mounts walked or occasionally trotted at an average speed of 3 miles an hour, stopping to rest for 5 minutes every hour. They camped that first night, Friday, 17 April, 31 miles south of La Grange - 4 miles northwest of Ripley, Mississippi, on the plantation of William C. Faulkner, great-great grandfather of the 20th century novelist.

The Colonel's assignment was to disable a section of the Southern Railroad, which ran east from Vicksburg, through Jackson to Meridian, Mississippi. It's thin iron rails were the last connection between the wealth and white humanity of Texas, Louisiana and Arkansas with the rest of the Confederacy. 

Exactly where, when and how to snap that connection, and what to do next, if anything, was left to Gierson's discretion. Each trooper carried 5 days rations, which were to last them at least 10 days. They were armed with a carbine and 100 rounds of ammunition, usually a pistol and a rarely used saber. The next day, Saturday, 18 April, 1863, they crossed the Little Tallahatchie River, just as it began to rain.

They met no resistance because when Grant had retreated out of northern Mississippi the previous December, he had ravaged the land as he left, creating a 100 mile wide no-man's land which could barely support its own hungry residents. Federal troops had also destroyed the bridges and rails of the Mississippi and Tennessee Railroad north of Grenada. 

Having been forced to send Major General Earl Van Dorn's cavalry east to support General Braxton Bragg's Army of Tennessee,  49 year old Lieutenant General John Clifford Pemberton (above), had only a "scratch" battalion of the 2nd Tennessee cavalry, under 27 year old Lieutenant Colonel Clark Russell Barteau, supported by a couple of militia cavalry regiments, to screen his forces and track down Yankee horsemen.  And to reach the current invaders they had to first travel north on the Ohio and Mobile railroad, just to get within forty miles of the raider's last reported position.

On Sunday, 19 April, after an all day march in the pouring rain, Grieson's men camped 5 miles south of Pontotoc, Mississippi. In the early morning dark, on Monday, 20 April, the weakest troopers and horses were formed into a "Quinine Brigade". Riding in a column of fours to disguise their weakness, these 175 men were placed under the 33 year old popular Major Hiram Wright Love of Iowa City. Love's command now rode back the way they had come, in hope the locals would believe all the Federal cavalry had returned to LaGrange.

This diversion would fail because by Monday morning, Colonel Barteau's troopers were just hours behind the Yankees, and they ignored the Quinine Brigade. 

But four miles south of Starkville Mississippi, Grierson staged another diversion, a theatrical performance by 31 year old Colonel Edward Hatch (above)  and the 500 men of the 2nd Iowa. At a crossroads Hatch's men took the time to obliterate Grierson's tracks in the mud, before leaving a new and obvious trail, again in column of fours, leading east and south, threatening to attack the Mobile and Ohio railroad.  Hatch even left behind 20 men to taunt the rebels. 

Barteau took the bait, moving so quickly he skirmished with Hatch's men that afternoon. Warned by that combat, Hatch forgot about the railroad and the 2nd Iowa headed back to LaGrange, with Barteau's cavalry chasing them all the way.

Freed of pursuing rebels, the 950 remaining troopers under Grierson continued south through a fog of rumors. Frightened civilians inflated their numbers by 5 times, their targets were assumed to be every vulnerable point within 100 miles. When he paused to burn a tannery, the countryside howled . The dozens of desperate calls for assistance prompted General Pemberton to dispatch 2,000 precious infantrymen eastward by rail all the way to Macon, to protect the eastern terminal of the Southern Railroad. But in doing so he overshot the real target. The very next night, Grierson sent a flying column of 200 men ahead to seize the tiny depot at Newton Station, just south of Decatur, Mississippi.

Meanwhile, on Wednesday, 22 April, another 7,000 Federal cavalrymen under General Grenville Dodge occupied a little village of Tyscumbia, Alabama - just over the border from Mississippi The town would change hands 40 times during the war. Using Dodge's incursion as a cover, on Friday, 24 April, another 1,500 Yankees struck south and east, under the aggressive and impatient 34 year old Hoosier, Colonel Abel Delos Streight (above).  His pretentious intent was to cut the Western and Atlantic railroad in Georgia, forcing General Braxton Bragg's Army of Tennessee to evacuate Chattanooga. But before he even started, Streight was forced to overcome several insurmountable obstacles.

First a shortage of horses forced Streight to accept mules. Then the mules were discovered to be infected with hoof and mouth disease, which weakened those animals it did not kill outright. By the time replacement mules were found, Streight's infantrymen - yes, infantrymen mounted on mules - the Yankee column was behind schedule and strung out for miles. And then Streight ran into one of the most resourceful cavalry commanders of the entire Civil War, the 41 year old Brigadier General Nathan Bedford Forrest. 

It is hard, if not impossible to describe General Forrest in 1863 as anything other than despicable. Before the war he built a fortune in Memphis, buying and selling human beings As a cavalry commander, Forrest was brilliant, decisive and a natural born leader. 

But in a year he would capture Fort Pillow, after which 200 surrendering Federal soldiers - black men in blue uniforms - would be butchered right in front of his eyes (above). 

After the war he would help organize a white supremacist terrorist organization, and the "Wizard of the Saddle" would become the "Grand Wizard of The Knights of the Klu Klux Klan".  

By two years before his death in 1877, at 56 years of age, a wearier and wiser Forrest would support full voting rights for African Americans, and even their admission to white law schools. He would renounce his life long bigotry and say, 'I am the fool that built on the sand." Speaking to an African American audience, he would note, "We were born on the same soil, breathe the same air, and live in the same land. Why, then, can we not live as brothers?"

But that was in the future. In April of 1863, Forrest was still defending slavery and was the scourge of the Federal armies. In particular he was chasing the mule born 1,500 Yankee infantry under Colonel Abel Straight. The only thing which saved Streight's command from an immediate disaster was that Forrest had only 500 men. Never the less, from their first engagement on 27 April at the Battle of Town Creek, Forest harassed Streight most of the way across Alabama, keeping the Hoosier and his soldiers always off balance, always just a step ahead of disaster.  

In fact Streight's primary credit for the entire ill begotten operation, which would end in his surrender to a rebel force less than a third his own size, was that it kept the mad man Forrest busy in Alabama, moving east, while Grierson's raiders were falling on Newton Station, Mississippi, 75 miles due west of the state capital, and Pemberton's headquarters in Jackson.

At about 6:00am on the morning of Thursday, 24 April, three men in worn rebel uniforms rode up to a home at the edge of the town of Newton Station. They asked for a drink of water and inquired when the next train was scheduled. Learning that an eastbound train was due at 9:00am, the leader, Sargent Richard W. Surby, of the 7th. Illinois Cavalry, sent a man back to his commander, Lieutenant-Colonel William D. Blackburn. Then Sargent Surby and the remaining man rode to the train depot and took the telegraph operator prisoner.

When the train arrived, Blackburn's "scouts" jumped on board, captured the engine, and switched the 25 box cars of machinery and railroad ties to a siding. Just as they were completing this task, a westbound train whistled that it was approaching Newton Station - a passenger car and 12 freight cars carrying weapons and ammo, and commissary supplies. Again, as it slowed on approach to the station, Federal troopers jumped on board with drawn guns, and the second train was captured, intact.. 

After shipments of food and medical cargo were shared with 75 rebel soldiers recuperating in a hospital, the rail cars were pushed away from the town and torched, setting off explosions. These drew Colonel Grierson and the bulk of the raiders galloping into town.

Before the exhausted Federal cavalry limped out of Newton Station at about 2:00pm, the two invaluable locomotives had been blown up , 38 railroad cars burned and 500 small arms had been destroyed. Cross ties were dug from the ground for a half mile in both directions, piled up and set on fire, to heat the iron rails.

The irreplaceable iron rails were then laid on the fires until they softened and were then twisted and bent so as to be almost useless. Irreplaceable telegraph wires were cut for a mile in either direction. Laid on the same fires, they were melted into copper globs. 

An irreplaceable bridge was dismantled and burned. Two stores in town were also burned to the ground. In the space of three hours everything of value to the Confederacy in Newton Station and for a half mile in either direction was destroyed.

So weary were the Illinois horsemen, and so crowded with panicked white civilians was the road south from Newton Station that Grierson covered only 5 miles before he had to stop, an hour later, to rest his men and horses. About 6:00pm he got his men moving again, pushing another 2 miles to Garland, Mississippi. 

Here a militia company of old men and boys tried to block the raiders, but Grierson (above, seated center with his staff) ordered his command to charge. The Federal's captured them all, losing one man wounded. Grierson then cowed the locals into supplying him with guides. 

About midnight on Friday, 25 April, the 950 troopers camped on the Bender Plantation along Bogue Falema Creek, 2 miles west of Montrose, Mississippi.  They had covered 50 miles in one day, cut the rail line out of Vicksburg and Jackson, destroyed irreplaceable equipment and captured and paroled almost 200 rebel soldiers and militia. And they had stripped the countryside of horses, to remount as many of their men possible.  But they were still, just 25 miles southwest of Newton Station.

Despite this, on Friday,  24 April, Colonel Benjiman Harrison Grierson allowed his men and horses (above)  a day of rest. They had damn well earned it.

- 30 -