VICKSBURG Chapter FIfty

In the dark, late on the evening of Thursday, 14 May, 1863, after abandoning Jackson, Mississippi General Joe Johnston (above) paused 6 miles north along the New Orleans and Memphis rail line. There he composed another missive – to call it an order seems to be stretching that definition beyond the breaking point - to Lieutenant General Pemberton, somewhere to the west, near Bovina Station. He wondered if Pemberton might be able to cut Grant's supply line. He wondered how long Grant's army could survive, once it's supply had been cut. And he urge, again, that Pemberton unit their forces. “I am anxious to see a force assembled that may be able to inflict a heavy blow upon the enemy." And that was the passive aggressive order he sent to Pemberton, near midnight on Friday, 15, May.

Later that morning another 4,000 man brigade joined his forces, bringing Johnston's strength to about 10,000 men. But the new arrivals were exhausted, and needed at least a day to recover. More troops were coming, and within a week Johnston would have perhaps 30,000 men. But ominously, forty miles to the west on that morning, Lieutenant General Pemberton and his army was not moving toward a junction, as ordered earlier, but were waiting.

Pemberton's original plan had been a compromise between his conflicting orders from Confederate President Jefferson Davis to hold Vicksburg, and his “orders” from General Joe Johnston, to abandon the city and march his army east to join forces with Johnston's gathering little force. Pemberton's solution to this conflict seemed practical. 

Pemberton left 2 divisions of infantry and the battalion of artillerymen – about 13,000 men in total – to hold Vicksburg and the heights above the mouth of the Yazoo River. With his remaining 3 divisions of infantry and Wade Adam's Cavalry -about 17,000 men - he would advance eastward along the Southern Railroad to Edward's Depot (above). By staying along the railroad he was protecting his own supply line.

However last night, at a council of war, Pemberton had accepted Major General Loring's suggestion, that the army should strike away from the railroad, toward Raymond – 20 miles to the southeast. The goal was to cut Grant's supply line, force him to pull back to protect his “line of communications”, and thus allow Johnston's smaller force to safely advance and link up with Pemberton. Thus Grant would be forced to react to the rebels for a change, perhaps even cause him to make a mistake. But, leaving the railroad required shifting the Confederate's supply line. And that required finding more horses and wagons.

It took time to seize the transport – until now Pemberton had refused to simply take what he needed – and to load the wagons and organize them into a column. And so Pemberton's entire army spent the morning on their asses while this wagon train was formed. The rebel army was not ready to move until the morning was almost gone. And then, before the great advance had made much more than a single mile, it was forced to halt again.

You see, there were three routes which could be taken from Edward's Depot to Raymond. The most northern road crossed Baker's Creek on a bridge and then rounded the northern slopes of a low hill before reaching a crossroads. Continuing east lead to Bolton. Turning south, on what was called The Middle Road, lead to Raymond. The central route, called the Jackson road, turned right off the Bolton Road a quarter of a mile east of the bridge, and then climbed that 75 foot hill. On its broad flat top the Jackson road crossed a narrow north south lane called the Ratcliff Road, before descending back to level ground where it passed the farmhouse of Sid and Matilda Champion, who had given their name to the entire hill.

The farmland had been a wedding gift from the father of the bride, and in the 7 years since their nuptials, Sid and Matilda  (above) had built a 2 story home, and introduced 4 children into the world. Sid had joined the 28^th Mississippi cavalry in '62. And now, a year later, with soldiers from both sides gathering around her home, Matilda had taken the children to her father's home in Madison County, Mississippi. The property was left to be guarded by the slaves who toiled soil. 

Following the Jackson Road after it passed the Champion home, lead to the small Jackson Creek and then it crossed The Middle Road. Turning south led to Raymond, but should the traveler continue east they would eventually reach Clinton and then the state capital of Jackson.

But General Pemberton had chosen the most southern route, which a mile east of Edward's Depot forded Baker's creek. It avoided Champion's Hill entirely, and ran adjacent to a light railroad, which in peace time had carried the cotton harvested in and around Raymond to the southern railroad at Edward's Depot. But this proved to be a most unfortunate choice, because, as the head of Pemberton's column approached the Baker's Creek ford the rebels found the stream so swollen with Friday's downpour, it had washed out the bridge.

A little scouting would have warned Pemberton of this problem But no one had checked the route in daylight, even with the hours of delay in getting started....

...not even the one armed General Loring (above), whose division formed the vanguard of this sad sack of a march. So now, Pemberton's little army had to turn about in place, one unit after the other slowly filing a mile back to Edward's Depot, and then lining up again on the Bolton road. It took another hour or more. The inability to execute a simple march sapped the energy and spirit of the troops. But the man most offended was Major General Loring. He had been urging Pemberton to attack the Yankees since the Battle of Port Gibson. This entire maneuver was his idea, And as its implementation quickly revealed its drawbacks, Loring blamed not himself but Pemberton. Old “Give 'em Blizzards” already low estimation of Lieutenant General Pemberton, plummeted even further.

Then Pemberton made things even worse. After crossing the bridge and turning south on the Jackson road he chose to lead the column onto the narrow and badly maintained “Ratcliff Plantation Road”, which ran a mile south across the top of Champion's Hill before dropping and reconnecting with road he had originally intended upon using. This final choice slowed their progress even more, and the effect of all this waiting, marching and counter-marching, and now following the narrow dark country lane, was that when darkness finally brought the frustrating and exhausting day to an end,  Private Wesley Connor, a member of the Cherokee Artillery near the rear of the column, recorded his unit set out promptly at 7:00am, and then “... marched two hundred yards, halted an hour or two, and then marched back to our position...” They then waited another 11 hours, until 6:00pm , when they “Left our position again, and marched eastward several miles and then southward. Bivouacked five or six miles from Edwards Depot.”  Loring's division had traveled the farthest, but by nightfall was little more than 4 miles down the Raymond road – reaching the property of the twice widowed, 46 year old Sarah Ann Walton Bowles Ellison.

Lorings men pitched their tents around the widow's house, while Lieutenant General Pemberton slept comfortably inside. Two miles up the road to the north centered of the junction of the Raymond and Ratcliff road was the division of Major General Bowen. And behind them, the troops commanded by Major General Stevenson camped around the hill top.  And behind them was the supply train, which had delayed the army for half a day. That train had advanced less than four miles in total. It was a disastrous day's march. In fact, the wreckage of Pemberton's first bold decision would save his army because it failed.

Awakening before 5:00 the next morning, Saturday, 16 May, 1863, Pemberton learned that the cavalry scouts sent ahead to locate Grant's supply trains had found the roads from Port Gibson to Raymond, completely empty. Suddenly Pemberton is adrift. Where are Grant's supply trains? Where is Grant's army” Then about 6:30 the commander of his cavalry brigade, Colonel Wirt Adams (above) came galloping up and dismounted. He reported that his men were skirmishing with Yankee infantry on the Bolton Road, at the very rear of Pemberton's army. And behind those skirmishers there appeared to be a lot of Yankee soldiers on the road to Edward's Depot.

Almost immediately a new rider appeared, bearing a message from General Johnston, in Jackson, Mississippi and dated on the afternoon of Thursday, 14 May. It informed Pemberton that Johnston was being forced to surrender Jackson, and added, “Our being compelled to leave Jackson makes your plan (to attack Grant's supply line) impractical. The only mode by which we can unite is by your moving directly to Clinton...".

And abruptly, Pemberton had no choice but to do that very thing.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Thirty - Eight

John Gregg (above) did not get along well with his father-in-law.  Gregg was a successful lawyer, with a practice in the east Texas flat lands of Fairfield County and a personal wealth of over a quarter of a million in today's dollars. Still it would have been odd if John had not felt a little self conscious about comparing what he had to offer his 1858  bride Mary Francis Garth, to what she giving up – her father's large plantation in north central Alabama, with almost 200 slaves toiling daily to provide for her care and comfort.

The Garth's were cousins to Patrick Henry, and , Jessie Winston Garth (above)  himself had spent time with Thomas Jefferson at Monticello, and was a long time friend of the 10^th President of the United States, General John Tyler.  Jessie  himself had been a general in the Virginia Militia during the War of 1812.   After moving south to share in the lands bullied from native peoples, Jessie  Garth had helped found the town of Decatur, helped write the Alabama state constitution, was the first President of the state senate and had served in the state house as well. 

He was the first President of First National Bank  (above) in Decatur, and owned enough stock in the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, that the first steam engine to pull a train into Decatur was named after him. John would never measure up to Jessie Garth's social accomplishment. But there was an even more fundamental matter dividing John Gregg from his father-in-law.

Seventy year old slave owner Jessie Winston Garth was emphatic about the union. He would willing give up his slaves, he insisted, in order to save the union of the United States of America . But having never fought beside northerners, 34 year old John Gregg (above) felt no need to compromise or learn from the free labor of the north.   Lincoln observed before he took the oath of office that secessionist demanded Republicans not only promise to not touch slavery, they must somehow convince men like John Gregg they would not touch slavery.  And that was no longer possible. 

These were violent, ambitious men,  frontiersmen who were unwilling to admit their "peculiar institution" was both economically and morally bankrupt.  A civil war could only hasten the death of slavery, and yet men like John Gregg were driven to bring on the cataclysm.  

As was observed at the time, secession was a logical discordance which had gripped one third of the nation. Such periodic bouts of insanity seem to be the the price humans have to pay for the Code of Hammurabi, the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence and the Emancipation Proclamation.

In the name of defending slavery, John Gregg became colonel of the 746 men from 9 east Texas counties who formed the 7^th Volunteer infantry regiment.  In the summer of 1861, after Mary Francis had been sent to the Garth's Alabama estates for safety,  John had joined his regiment at Hopkinsville, Tennessee, on the border with neutral Kentucky.  There, over six months, disease buried 130 of the men before they fired a shot in anger. 

Then, in February of 1862 another 20 were killed and 40 wounded at the battle at Fort Donelson. Almost all of the remainder, including John, were forced to surrender.

The 7^th Regiment was paroled and exchanged at Vicksburg in the fall of that year.   But with 1863 John was promoted a Brigadier General, and the Texas 7^th joined with the 3^rd, 10^th,, 41^st and 50^th Tennessee regiments into the 4,500 man 10^th Battalion or Gregg's Brigade. They were supported by Bledsoe's Missouri Battery, a smooth bore 6 pound bronze cannon called “Old Sacramento” and a pair of iron 6 pound cannon, all under Captain Hiram Bledsoe.

For the first 4 months of 1863, Gregg's Battalion was stationed 80 feet above the Mississippi river at Port Hudson (above), some 20 miles north of Federal lines at Natchez, Louisiana. Until Sunday,  3 May, 1863, that is - when a telegram arrived from Lieutenant General Pemberton in Vicksburg. Grant's breakout at Port Gibson had forced a desperate reshuffling of battle lines. Pemberton ordered Gregg and his men to move with all dispatch to Jackson, Mississippi, 200 miles away.

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So on Monday, 4 May, at Port Hudson (above) General Gregg loaded his men onto the 7 cars of the Port Hudson and Clinton Railroad, for the 20 mile trip inland to the seat of East Feliciana Parish.

Their top speed over the corroded line was no more than 5 miles an hour. And after a seemingly endless series of shuttles back and forth the brigade's trip terminated in Clinton, a town of 1,500 white souls. Gregg's 4,500 Tennesseans and Texans then began a 37 mile forced march in the heat and dust of a suddenly dry Mississippi spring.  Fifteen miles east of town they crossed the almost empty Amite river and then camped beside the trickle of the Tickfaw creek. Private W.J. Davidson of the 41st Tennessee remembered, ", Our rations gave out and the heat and dust was almost insufferable." The next day they reached Kents Mills. Here Gregg's Battalion boarded cars of the New Orleans and Jackson railroad, to continue their journey north.

But they had barely resumed their progress when, shortly after crossing the Mississippi state border they had to disembark again. Two weeks earlier Grierson's Yankee raiders had destroyed many of the rails between Osyka and Brookhaven, Mississippi. So it was another 47 mile forced march, before Gregg's Battalion could board a third train for the 56 final miles into the state capital of Jackson, Mississippi. The Battalion had marched over 100 miles and traveled 100 miles by rail in 5 long exhausting days. They arrived in Jackson early on Saturday 9 May, 1863. That evening the weary rebels drank their fill from the cool waters of the upper Pearl River.

But the next day General Gregg received new orders from General Pemberton. And before dawn on Monday, 11 May, John Gregg would lead his weary battalion on yet another forced march of 27 miles to the southwest. That afternoon they were greeted by cheering crowds at the town of Raymond, happy to see so many Confederate soldiers after a week of apparent abandonment. Their joy was mitigated somewhat when after filing into a field just south of town, “…the brigade...were too tired to stand in line...and everyone dropped...as soon as we halted.” 

General Gregg, meanwhile was quickly seething with anger. The cavalry he expected to find guarding the roads south of Raymond (above) , were nowhere to be seen.

Pemberton was trying to form a ring to contain Grant's army, behind the Big Black River to the west, and its tributaries Fourteen Mile and Baker's creeks to the north and east. And the force he chose to stake out the positions south of Raymond until Gregg's men arrived, were the 500 troopers of Colonel Willaim “Wirt" Adams 1^st Mississippi cavalry regiment. And the reason they were not where they were supposed to be had to do with their hot headed commander.

Both 49 year old William "Wirt" Adams (above)  and his younger brother Daniel were violent southern gentlemen prone to spontaneous duels -slash -brawls to defend their “honor”. Younger brother Daniel had even been tried for the murder of a journalist, but the jury generously found he had been acting in self defense.  Colonel Adams would eventually die in a similar encounter on a street corner.  But that was 20 years in the future. On Friday, 8 May, the 1^st Mississippi cavalry were in Jackson, resting men and horses after futile and frustrating week spent chasing Gerierson's raiders across central Mississippi, with only a brief encounter at cannon range for the honor. 

Pemberton now ordered Colonel Adams to “picket” his men on the roads south of Raymond. But he also ordered Adams to ride to Edward's Depot, to assess the situation there.

Two weeks earlier Pemberton had been so desperate for cavalry to stop Colonel Gierson's raid, he had ordered 3 companies of the 20^th Mississippi Infantry at Jackson, Mississippi – about 400 men - to be put on horseback, and sent to Edward's Depot to guard the 300 muskets and 10,000 rounds of ammunition stored in Edward's Produce and Grocery. These guns were one of dozens of such arsenals through out Mississippi,  kept to deal with a feared uprising by the victims of the allegedly “benign” institution of slavery.

It was a 100 man scouting detachment of the transmogrified 20^th Mississippi horse-slash- infantry, out of Edwards Depot, which had been surprised along Bakers Creek by union cavalry on 6 May. And it was their capture which had so frightened editor and publisher George William Harper at Raymond, that he had inspired Pemberton's concern about the capabilities of the metamorphosed 20th Mississippi. 

And that was what Pemberton had asked Colonel Adams to do – ride the 25 miles from Jackson, through Bolton, and cross Bakers Creek to Edward's Depot. Once there he was to coolly observe and calmly report about the condition and combat readiness of the 20th regiment.  But cool and calm were not words usually associated with either of the Adams boys.

If Colonel Adams had caught up with Grierson's raiders, even for a brief struggle, he might have reacted differently to Pemberton's orders.  But the insult of  burned box cars and warehouses along the Grierson's route was seared into his mind. He had breathed in the stench of blackened wooden cross ties and bridges, felt the humiliating heat of smoldering and twisted bow tied iron rails. His honor demanded revenge. Revenge was something William Wirt Adams understood.

So on Saturday morning 10 May,  even though ordered to  picket his men on the roads between Raymond and Forty-mile Creek,  Brigadier General William Wirt Adams had mounted his entire command and ridden the 25 miles to Edward's Depot.  He spent the next 48 hours in Edward's Depot, looking for a fight, unaware he had just missed the most important one in his life. 

Because, on the evening of 11 May,  Brigadier General John Gregg's 4,500 infantrymen were  left defending the three roads leading into the town of Raymond without the eyes and ears of cavalry to warn them of any approaching Yankee army.  And the Yankees were approaching,  In great numbers.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Thirty-Six

The 38 year old bespectacled Democratic publisher of the Hinds County Gazette, George William Harper (above), was worried.  Even during the bright arrogance of 1861, the one time mayor, two term state representative and major of militia had watched with foreboding as “The Raymond Fencibles” marched off to war in Virginia. Despite his personal rejection of succession, George had volunteered as commissariat, securing supplies for the 2 regiments raised in Hinds county. And this gave him a perspective as, over the next two years, the war crept closer to 512 Palestine Street in Raymond, where George's wife Anna their six children lived.

Raymond seemed safe from the anarchy of the war. The petite capital of Hinds county was off the main road between Vicksburg and Jackson, yet close to the Natchez Trace, on property donated by General Raymond Robinson. By 1862 the 1,500 white residents boasted a new Greek revival county court house (above)... 

...Two respectable rooming houses - “The City” and “The Oak Tree” (above) hotels - as well as the not quite so respectable Florin House, several grand homes and two dozen or more tenement apartments. 

The town also boasted a new Episcopalian  church as well as the older Methodist church, ministered over by the Reverend Cooper - who was also owner of the diuretic medicinal waters of Coopers Wells resort (above)  just south of town. There were a couple of dry goods stores, a few saloons and blacksmiths, a hand full of doctors, a flurry of lawyers and Harper's  Hinds County Gazette - second oldest newspaper in the state. Raymond was as peaceful a town as could be found in the cotton empire. And then, four days ago on 2 May, 1863, the Yankees had captured Port Gibson, just 50 miles to the south.

The sudden appearance of blue uniforms in the very gut of Mississippi ripped apart the carefully cultured self image of gentility which had graced the south for a century. In a region already stripped of young white males, the nightmare of retribution was abruptly set free to stalk the land in daylight, and the thousands of ways the “peculiar institution” had twisted and bent the society, laws and psychology of the south were revealed for their hypocrisy. So terrifying was this sudden reality it must be doubtful if either master or slave welcomed the revelation without reservations.

On Tuesday, 5 May, halfway between Raymond and Edward's Depot. 500 troopers of the 2^nd Illinois Cavalry had descended upon and captured 100 mounted infantry of the 20^th Mississippi. That put Yankees within 8 miles of Raymond.  

The next morning, George Harper used his new Number 3 Washington Press, manufactured by New York based Robert Hoe and Company, to deliver the depressing news to his readers. It was, he wrote, “...a very gloomy day. Enemy reported at Edwards Station, Auburn, Cayuga, (and) Rocky Springs.”

George assured his readers the Yankees would concentrate on Vicksburg, 40 miles to the east, and that the fighting would come no closer than the banks of the Big Black River – still 20 miles, a full day's travel, away.  But George knew a zone of uncertainty had opened up in the rolling hills of central Mississippi, bordered by Bayou Pierre on the south, the Big Black River on the west, Snake Creek to the east, and to the north, the little community of Edward's Depot.

The 20 year old Tennessean Richard O. “Rich” Edward was one of the 75,000 whites drawn and 100,000 slaves forced to Mississippi after the 1830 Treaty of Dancing Rabbit Creek. The sudden creation of 11 million acres of land turned conventional economics on its head. As attorney and author of “The Flush Times of Alabama and Mississippi”, Joseph Glover Baldwin put it, “The country was just settling up”. Fraud was rampant, and yet it seemed every idiot was making money. One of them explained, “...credit is plenty, and he who has no money can do as much business as he who has...”. “Rich” Edward easily acquired a few hundred acres in the Yazoo River delta and started growing cotton.

In 1834, Mississippi produced 85 million pounds of cotton. Three years later the cotton kingdom produced 200 million pounds of the white fiber. Over the same time the price paid for that cotton in New Orleans almost doubled. This drove inflation, but again, few seemed to notice. Baldwin explained that “Money, or what passed for money was the only cheap thing to be had.” It seemed as if the good times would go on forever. They did not.

During March and February of 1837 the price of cotton dropped 25%. The immediate cause was President Andrew Jackson's order that the only payment accepted for Federal lands would be in gold or silver. This caused private banks to raise interest rates on paper – or specie – loans. And that produced a seemingly endless string of bankruptcies. In August of 1838, Colonel William H. Shelton, President of one of the largest banks in Mississippi,  fled after his bank failed - “Gone to Texas” was the phrase. A year later he committed suicide. In 1840 the entire state of Mississippi defaulted on $2 million worth of loans to cotton farmers. It took seven long years for the recovery to even begin.

In 1847 Richard Edward paid a dollar an acre for a section of 640 acres of Harlan County, 16 miles from Vicksburg and just east of the Big Black tributary called Baker's Creek. It was a new cotton boom. In 1850 Richard's 30 slaves produced 180, 500 pound bales of cotton, shipped out of his own depot on the Mississippi Southern Railroad (above). By 1860 Richard's wealth included 124 slave laborers, making him one of the top 12% of plantation slave owners.

But in a back room at Edward's Produce and Grocery was the iron fist required to make that wealth possible – 300 muskets and 10,000 rounds of ammunition. Almost every large plantation in the south had a such larder, ever ready to respond to the great slave revolt, when it came. The 3,000 weapons destroyed by Grierson's raid were further evidence of doomsday vaults dispersed though out Mississippi.  And these were not hysterical fantasies. 

According to the 1860 census, there were 791,000 humans living in the state of Mississippi, of whom 437,000 – 55% - were owned by the remaining 350,000 – 45%. Some 80,000 white Mississippi men then went to war, further unbalancing the social power structure. It would have been odd, if the whites had not felt vulnerable, because they were.

But in the pine forests of Winston county, in north/central Mississippi,  there were only 122 black slaves, owned by just 14 white families - out of the total of 637 white families in the district. There was strong pro-union sentiment in Winston County. Yet even here, where masters vastly outnumbered those in bondage, owner Mr. C. D, Kelly was willing to believe his own cook's tale of a mass slave conspiracy. Her name was never provided, but Mr. Kelly said that on Friday, 20 September, while he was “chastising”, the “girl”, she had revealed a massive plot to poison every white family in the county.  

She said she had been provided with poison to murder her master, his wife and child.  According to the New York Times, a week after learning of the plot, Mr. Kelly, “...called on some five or six responsible and sober-thinking gentlemen,” to form a Vigilance Committee. On 28 September the committee went from plantation to plantation, beating slaves without explanation or examination. The following day, the committee returned and some of the slaves spontaneously “confessed”, leading to the arrest of about 30 slaves. It was assumed white agitators had been lead the conspiracy, specifically a traveling photographer, later detained in Philadelphia and identified only as G. Harrington – possibly Cole Harrington, originally from New York City.

Observed The Times, “ Knowing well that the law is too tardy in its course...” the committee “...unanimously committed” to pass punishment, “...on all persons, black or white, that may be impeached before it. of aiding or abetting in insurrectionist plans or movements, heretofore or hereafter.” The result, as reported in the Louisville and St. Louis newspapers, was that one negro and Mr. Harrington “had been hung.” 

And, of course the remaining 29 slaves were whipped, “...so severely, that it was thought they would die.’’

In February of 1862 Joseph Davis, elder brother to Confederate President Jeff Davis,  took his family and “house slaves” to Alabama for their safety.  But the moment the master's boat left the dock of his Hurricane Plantation,  his field hands took control of the entire peninsula, ransacking both Joseph's Hurricane Plantation house and Jefferson Davis' Brierfield Plantation house.   

All the cotton was burned, while the self-emancipated slaves took everything they could use back to their cabins (above) And there they stayed.  A Confederate lieutenant, dispatched with a patrol to put down the rebellion was shot at. The officer complained that, “...almost all the slaves on (the) Davis plantation had guns and newspapers.” 

Fifteen of the rebellious slaves were caught and several executed, but the remaining slaves remained defiant. They even refused to surrender the property to the Yankees, when they arrived. 

It was clear for some time to the so called benign slave masters that they were sitting atop a powder keg of their own making. 

Robert Augustus Tombs (above), the 53 year old alcoholic Georgia genius, made the other obvious point regarding slavery in his farewell address in U.S. Senate. He said, “We want no negro equality, no negro citizenship...” But this deeply racist man also accepted as fact the theory that slavery was doomed in America. A year later, as Confederate Secretary of State, he assured the Confederate Congress, "In 15 years more, without a great increase in Slave territory, either the slaves must be permitted to flee from the whites, or the whites must flee from the slaves." The fuse on the powders keg was already burning.

 Viewed on a purely economic basis, slavery in the America was already dying. The first slave empires had been Virginia and Maryland. Fifteen to twenty years later, South Carolina had replaced them, “... due to the exhaustion of the soil.” As the cotton bushes consumed the available nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium in the soil, cotton yields in first South Carolina and fifteen years later, in Mississippi and Georgia began falling off. By 1860, Arkansas and Louisiana were the new queens of cotton production. By 1875, if not earlier, Texas would be used up. And then, without expansion into Mexico, slavery in the Americas would die a natural death.

Would the United States fight a new war, as they had in 1838 to seize Texas, to convert Mexico into the new slave empire? Was it likely Britain and France would allow such a conquest, if attempted,  to go unchallenged?  

The truth was, as George William Harper well knew, the day of the slave empire was over. And the American Civil War was about one third of the nation refusing to accept that reality.

Three men who would affirm that unequivocal reality to the citizens of the Confederacy - President Abraham Lincoln, in Washington, D.C., commander of the Army of the Tennessee, Lieutenant General Ulysses Simpson Grant,  and General William Tecumseh Sherman, who on 6 May, 1863, stepped ashore at Grand Gulf, Mississippi, at the head of the 15,000 men of his XVth. Corp.

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