VICKSBURG Chapter Fifty - Two

 

It was two regiments from Indiana, the 11^th and the 48^th along with the Wisconsin 28^th , which did the final damage to the Rebel center.   General Hovey's 12^th division, 1^st brigade, commanded by 37 year old Brigadier General George Francis McGinness, went once again up the bloodied face of Champion Hill, to re-capture the cross roads. 

But this time, after brushing aside the rebel infantry, the Hoosiers and Badgers found the line held only by a single battery of 4 bronze six pound cannon. In the face of withering blasts of grape shot, the mid-westerners let loose killing volley after volley of musket fire, that butchered the gunners and their horses.

The story is told that when the white smoke cleared, only the 6 foot 3 inch dark haired, 41 year old Captain Samuel Jones Ridley (above) was still standing by a gun of Company A, of the 1^st Mississippi Light Artillery. The horses were all down, dead or screaming in agony, so the cannon were not going anywhere. And the human gunners had either been killed or wounded, or run to escape the same fate. But Captain Ridley continued to service the last gun by himself.

The Yankees saw him load double canister into the barrel and pull the lanyard. A century later a devotee of the Lost Cause would imagine the Yankee reaction. “For a moment perhaps, their eyes filled with admiration, but then the cannon roared its defiance ... they answered with a storm of lead. And in the next instant the lone figure vanished in the smoke.” Under that smoke the Captain had been hit by 6 musket balls. The batteries' second in command, Lieutenant Frank Johnston had a more prosaic vision. He wrote, “We went in there with 82 men and came out with 8”.

The shocked Yankees paid for the captured canon with their futures. There was little romance in such a grisly bargains. Before he had left Vicksburg, marching to his temporary grave on this hilltop, Sam Ridley, successful planter and slave owner, had predicted the Yankees would only capture Vicksburg through the “...bad management of the general in command.” 

Most of the Confederate soldiers knew who was responsible for the disaster on Champion Hill. Young surgeon John A. Leavy, of Missouri, wrote, “ "Today proved...General Pemberton is either a traitor or the most incompetent officer in the Confederacy. Indecision, indecision, indecision ... Our soldiers and officers are determined not to be sold (meaning sacrificed) if they can possibly help it." 

Referring to Pemberton's Pennsylvania birth, school teacher Sargent William Pitt Chambers was convinced, "...our Commanding General had been false to the flag under which he fought." Said one of Pemberton's officers, “He undoubtedly displayed bad generalship, and the day’s work may cost us Vicksburg.”

Pemberton had crossed Bakers Creek with some 17,000 men. Of the 38 guns which Pemberton had brought to the battle, some 11 cannon were captured.  He left 380 dead on the battlefield, and another 66 who would die within 48 hours. 

Over 1,000 were wounded, and almost 2,500 surrendered to the victorious Federals.  More importantly, the soul of the Army of Mississippi had been destroyed on that Hill of Death. Unit discipline, which had survived the day long slugging match, disintegrated while searching for an escape route.

What saved Pemberton's army from complete destruction was ingenuity, none of it from Pemberton. Arriving at Edward's Depot early on the morning of 16 May, 1863, 25 year old Major Samuel Henry Lockett, Chief Engineer for the army, was ordered by the Lieutenant General to concentrate on providing entrenchments for the battle line across Champion Hill. Almost as an after thought Lockett dispatched a Sergeant Vernon to use fifty men from Brigadier General Alfred Cumming's 3^rd Brigade, to replace the washed out Raymond Road bridge over Baker's Creek.

By 2:00 p.m. the water level had fallen enough that they had built a smaller replacement and were cutting away the 10 foot natural levees on either bank, to provide access. Without that bridge, inadequate as it was, the entire army would have been lost.  Excluding the 7,000 men who marched under General Lorring's division, Pemberton re-crossed Baker's Creek with perhaps 9,000 men.

But once across the creek the rebels discovered the Yankees had pushed Captain Samuel De Golyer's battery “H” of the 1^st Michigan Light Artillery across the Bolton Road bridge. After advancing as far as 2 miles west, the batteries' two 12 pound howitzers and three 6 pound rifles, began shelling the retreating Confederates, preventing them from reforming. 

Later General Pemberton (above) would share his self pity with Major Lockett. Watching the disaster he had engineered engulf the army, he said, “Just 30 years ago I began my military career...and today...that career ended in disaster and disgrace.”

By 5:00pm, the only division with any coherence belonged to the one armed firebrand. Major General William Wing Loring (above).  “Give Em Blizzards” had saved his men by stubbornly refusing to feed them into Pemberton's meat grinder at the cross roads. But ultimately, what saved Loring's division was that Grant did not pursue them. Ulysses Grant was focused on the Yazoo Heights. If he could have been assured that Pemberton would march his entire army to Raymond, Grant would have gladly let them go unmolested.

Grant had about 32,000 men in action at Champion Hill, of whom over 400 were left dead on the field, another 100 or so would die of their wounds within days. Almost 2,000 were wounded, and nearly 200 were missing. The battle had reduced Grant's effectives by about 3,000 men. But the reappearance of Sherman's 2 divisions the next day, would make the Army of the Tennessee 10,000 men stronger.

Even as he easily fending off a cautious single brigade attack up the Raymond Road by Yankee Major General Andrew Jackson Smith's division, Loring chose to slide his men south, to avoid the near panic at the temporary bridge. 

Loring's only unit engaged holding off Smith's attack was the 1,500 men of his 1^st brigade, under the popular, dashing Brigadier General Lloyd Tilghman. And it seemed the one time Railroad Engineer viewed the engagement as a summer's outing.  

About 5:30 p.m., a relaxed Tilghman paused in a casual discussion with some of his non-commissioned officers, to adjust the aim of a nearby 12 pound Napoleon cannon. Stepping back to observe the fall of his shot, the 47 year old was cut in half by Federal artillery shell. Stung by this personal loss,  Loring led his men south, away from the Yankee artillery, and away from the Yankee infantry. 

After fighting all day, Major General Carter Stevenson's division trudged 12 miles into the night, crossing the Big Black River before finally resting about 1:00 a.m. on the high ground south of the village of Bovina.  Major General John Bowen's division staggered closely behind, leaving troops on the east side of the Big Black, in the hope of welcoming Major General Loring's men.

But Loring's men were not coming.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Forty - Nine

 

As noon on Saturday, 16 May, 1863 approached, the 1^st brigade of General Hovey's 12^th Division,  had captured the low ridge overlooking the key cross roads atop Champion Hill. Immediately Brigadier General George Francis McGinnis ordered artillery up the hill to support the tenacious toe hold. As the path up the slope was narrow, only two guns were sent. It was a moment of high drama, captured by the official history of the 16^th Ohio Light Artillery battery.

“...Lieutenant (George) Murdoch was ordered up to the top of the Hill. Captain (James A.) Mitchell asking...to be permitted to go with it to place the guns. We galloped up the Hill. Cannoneers dismounted...Lieutenant Murdoch's horse was wounded, so that during the fight he was dismounted. A little distance beyond the summit of the Hill there was an open field to the left of the road, into which one of the guns, with Corporal Belmer as gunner, was pulled...

...while the other, with Corporal (Pomeroy) Mitchell (above)  as gunner,  went forward about fifty yards and found a good place just to the right of the road, near a log cabin and smoke house. Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Murdoch were with this gun.... the ground sloping down hill in front of them...by using solid shot (they) could fire over our own men...”

“...The gun by the cabin found our men, in front of it, in the way. The rebels were advancing, the bullets were coming fast. Then it was that the captain showed his bravery. He dashed down on his horse, right in the face of that leaden storm, and cried to our men: "Out of the way. boys, get out of the way and give the artillery a chancel" Our men rushed back and around the cabins, and as the Johnnies came on they got charge after charge of canister, all the 13 rounds of canister the gun carried.” 

This counter attack had been hastily thrown together by Brigadier General Stephen Dill Lee (above), whose 2^nd brigade was facing an attack by troops from Logan's division, coming up the wooded and ravine which into cut northern slope of Champion Hill.  But Lee knew the vital point was, in fact behind him. 

So around 1:00pm, Lee collected about 400 survivors of the 34^th Georgia regiment who had been thrown back by the first Yankee thrust, bolstered them with his own reserve, the 31^st Alabama regiment, and launched an immediate assault. 

This first counter-attack was quickly cut down by deadly accurate fire of the 45^th Illinois and 23^rd Indiana regiments, and flanking fire from the 24^th Indiana, but mostly because of the two cannon from the 16^th Ohio. As his troops fell back. Lee ordered a second assault, this time adding the 23^rd Alabama regiment drawn from his own front line, directed specifically to silence those Yankee guns.

The history of the 16^th Ohio notes the bravery of the rebel assault. “... though the slaughter was appalling, still on they came.....as fast as one line was shattered another took its place.” 

But the account also records the cost. “The brave Captain (James Mitchel) remained on his horse... A whole volley was fired at him by the enemy concealed in the ravine...near the house. As the horse was hit he sprang forward, throwing the Captain off backward...(James) rose from the ground, pressing his hand to his chest, the blood flowing freely from his wound. Lieutenant Murdock sent back for surgical aid, but the Captain insisted on sitting down with his back to a tree at the roadside near the command...”  In such a way the second assault was thrown back.

About 1:30pm, Lee's division commander, General Stevenson, sent word to Pemberton, asking for help. Not waiting for a reply, Lee launched troops on yet another attempt to retake the vital road junction, adding the 46^th Alabama regiment to his punch. Some of these troops were making their third charge that afternoon against the Yankee line. 

Out of canister shot, Corporal Belmer's gun was hitched to its horse team and sent racing back down the hill. The gun manned by Pomeroy Mitchel however, kept firing until Lieutenant Murdoch saw the rebels closing in. He waved his pistol and yelled, “Quick, boys, out of here!”

The 16^th not only saved both their own guns, they captured 2 cannon from The Botetourt battery, and spiked several of the guns abandoned by Waddell's battery. Meanwhile, the third rebel counterattack was thrown back, leaving the 46^th Alabama regiment embedded in the Yankee line. Exhausted and bloodied, the brave Alabamian fighters suddenly found themselves surrounded. When demanded, the Confederate regiment was forced to surrender.

It was now almost 2:00pm. The isolated battle for the crest of Champion Hill -  now called The Hill of Death - had been going on for almost 2 hours. The first brigade of General McGinnis, comprising the 11^th, 24^th, 34^th and 46^th Indiana Regiments and the 29^th Wisconsin regiment had suffered almost 90 dead – including Captain Mitchel - almost 500 wounded and 23 missing or captured. On the opposing line, Cummings shattered Georgia brigade had suffered 121 dead, 269 wounded and 605 captured, and Lee's Alabama battalion had sacrificed over 40 men killed, 140 wounded and 600 captured. The other causality was Grant's patience

At noon Grant had ordered an assault all along his line, but neither Osterhaus's 9^th division, nor Carr's 14^th division in the center had yet to move. It would later be determined that the messenger carrying the order to attack had gotten lost, and had just reached General McClernand's headquarters. Grant might have expected McClernand to have launched his assault on his own initiative, upon seeing Hovey's 12^th division desperately battling on the crest. But the midst of a battle was not the time to deal with McClernand. Grant was was assured the entire line would be advancing soon, along with more support for Hovey's brave men.

Meanwhile Pemberton was having his own command problems. His first choice to support Steven's hard pressed men was to call for one of Loring's 4 brigades. “Old Bizzards” was still trading long range skirmishing fire with Smith's approaching 12^th Division and Blair's 2^nd. But in response to Pemberton's orders, Loring pleaded that he was about to be attacked and could not spare even one of his brigades.  And no matter how many orders Pemberton issued, Loring simply ignored them.

That left only General John Stevens Bowen's smaller division, stretched out along the north/south Ratcliff Road, in between Steven's and Loring's divisions. They, at least, had the advantage of being closer.

The closest unit was Bowen's 1^st brigade under long dour faced 32 year old Brigadier General Seth Maxwell Barton (above).  Shortly after 2:00pm he sent 3 regiments against the flank of the weary federal troops, charging with the 40^th, 41^st and 43^rd Georgia Regiments, supported by the 4 guns of the Cherokee Georgia Artillery, under Captain Max van den Corput. 

Falling on the Yankee flank, they broke the line and pushed it off the vital crossroads, 300 yards back to the crest. But there the Yankees reformed. So Barton threw in his reserve, the 52^nd Georgia regiment against the vulnerable right flank of the new Federal line, crumpling it and at last sending the blue coats streaming for the rear.

And at that moment, after almost 3 hours of violence and bloodshed, the weary men of Barton's brigade were within 5 or 6 hundred yards of complete and total victory. Because at the bottom of that hill, gathered around the Champion home, were almost 200 Yankee wagons loaded with ammunition. It was the last supplies to come through from Port Gibson. And if those wagons and the ammunition they  carried, were captured Grant's campaign would come to an immediate collapse. 

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VICKSBURG Chapter Thirteen

 

All day the rebel gunners watched the ominous columns of black smoke approach. Hour by hour the dark totems followed the twists and turns of the distant river's course. Fading for a moment, but always returning, larger, and closer they came. Unseen beneath the tree line, the Federals destroyed a rebel barge, and burned a bridge. And then, just when it seemed the threat must reveal it's face and unleash its hell, the smoke abruptly stopped. The Yankees would not come until morning. The reprieve merely increased the dread.

Where ever those squat ugly ships appeared, they swept all resistance before them - Forts Henry and Donelson in February of 1862 - Island Number 10 above New Madrid, Missouri, in April - Plum Run Bend, Fort Pillow and Memphis, Tennessee in May of 1862 - and most recently, Fort Hindman, at Arkansas Post, in January of 1863. And, now it would be the turn of the 1,500 men crouched behind dirt covered cotton bales stretched across the 300 yard wide neck of land between the Yazoo River and its own sources. Come the dawn would come the reckoning for Fort Pemberton.

It was just after 10:00 on the next morning - Wednesday, 11 March, 1863 - when a single alien black shape materialized out of the humid mist. Dense smoke billowed from atop the monster, as it cautiously edged aside the muddy brown surface of the Tallahatchie river. The two dark unblinking eyes of the beast stared straight ahead. At any moment they would belch death and clouds of white smoke. Standing by their guns, tools at the ready, the frightened gunners waited as they had been trained, until at 800 yards General Loring ordered his men to open fire.

The approaching beast was the 400 ton USS Chillicothe, a 162 foot long stern wheeler case-mate ironclad and a floating compromise. Rising behind her bow was a sloping wooden box covered in 2 inches of iron, a poor man's turret. It sheltered a pair of 11 inch smooth bore cannon, each with a 17 man crew. The guns were capable of firing a 172 pound shell over 3,00 yards. But the ship had to be pointed at its target, which, in the narrow shallow bayous of the Mississippi Delta, was sufficient until something better came along.

High above the case-mate and beneath 3 inches of iron plate, was the pilot house, where Acting Lieutenant J. P. Sanford commanded. During combat, the smoke and noise left him mostly blind and deaf. Behind the pilot house rose the slender 100 foot tall smoke stacks, hinged to allow the ship to pass beneath overhanging branches in the narrow bayous and sloughs of the delta. The year before, as the Chillicothe left her Cincinnati, Ohio construction yard, no other structures rose above the inch thick deck armor except the big armored box protecting the stern paddle wheel. 

But after passing the Falls of the Ohio, the crew had added an above deck cabin, so in the humid south they could eat and sleep in something close to fresh air. Hidden cramped below the deck were the boilers, the drive shaft to turn the paddles, and the powder and shell magazines, all in a ship which drew just 4 feet of water.

The sweating Yankee sailors inside the iron maiden where hot and frightened. Their weapons were muzzle loaders, which meant after every shot the 16,000 pound gun had to be pulled back into the shelter and the barrel swabbed with water to prevent a premature ignition. 

Then a ten pound black powder charge was slid down the barrel, followed by the 172 pound shell. Then both were rammed home against the breech. Straining on the ropes the crew then hauled the gun forward until the muzzle was free of the case-mate. The gunnery officer then sighted along the barrel, double checked his calculations, and pulled the lanyard. The resulting concussion just feet away was enough to deafen a man and loosen his bowels.

Slowed by natural and man-made snags and fallen trees, the 115 mile journey from Moon Lake down the Coldwater and Tallahatchie Rivers for the nine gunboats and twenty-seven transports had taken almost 3 weeks. Even in March the heat and humidity had spoiled half of the expedition's rations in the cans, and the opened levee had so flooded the countryside that little could be scavenged from the waterlogged plantations and farms. The invading Yankees were weary, worn by travel in a strange land. Escaped slaves told stories of a fort where the Tallahtchie and Yaloblaussa Rivers came together to form the Yazoo. But most of the Yankee officers doubted the stories were true.

But they were true. Dual citizen of Mississippi and Virginia, and Captain of Engineers, 57 year old Powhatan Robinson, had been charged with constructing the fort across the river from the little town of Greenwood, Mississippi. He collected every 400 pound cotton bale he could find, The 4 feet by 3 feet by 2 feet 3 inch bales were piled 12 to 20 feet high across the northern end of the first meander of the Yazoo. At crucial points a sheet of iron was strapped between them, and then they were covered by 8 feet of dirt. 

Around the gun emplacements, raw hide was stretched, to encourage any cannon balls to simply slide off. Up the Tallahahtchie a raft was floated midstream, suspended between both banks, to block any passage. And downstream of the raft, the historic steamer, "Star of the West", played her final role in the war, as a prop.

She was built in 1852 as a 228 foot side wheeler, part of Commodore Vanderbilt's commercial fleet carrying trade between New York and New Orleans. 

But the tragedy playing out in Mississippi had really begun when shots were fired at the Star of the West as she tried to enter Charleston Harbor with reinforcements for Fort Sumter, early on the morning of Wednesday, 9 January, 1861.  These were the first official shots fired in the American Civil War. Struck twice, The Star of the West returned to New York for repair. 

But the 1,100 ton lady was immediately dispatched to the coast of Texas to rescue a Federal regiment surrounded by rebels. Off Matagorda Bay, on Thursday, 18 April 1861, she'd been boarded and captured. Now flying the Confederate flag, she sailed for New Orleans, where she was armed with cannon. But they were never fired in anger from her decks.

The Star spent a year as floating hospital, tied to a dock, until, on Tuesday, 29 April, 1862, when the rebels emptied the New Orleans Mint into her hold. Just before Federal Admiral Farragut captured the city the Star carried the Confederate reserves up the river to first Vicksburg. She was then towed to the newly re-established naval yard at Yazoo City.  Without New Orleans the western Confederacy no longer had a use for ocean going ships. The Star of the West was robbed of some of her guns, her engines and her mast. Her hulk was then towed up the Yazoo River to Greenwood. 

And on Monday, 6 April 1863 The Star of the West was scuttled to block the last few yards of the Tallahahtchie River - A sad end for an historic lady, particularly considering what the man who ordered her destruction had to say about her sacrifice. Captain Robinson told General Pemberton, "Obstructions are worthless without artillery.”

When the rebel gunners opened fire the Chillicothe returned it. But only for three rounds. Over the next 35 minutes the rebels let loose almost a round a minute, with Brigadier General William Loring (above)  running between his blazing cannon, screaming curses and obscenities and urging his gunners to "Give them Blizzards, boys! Give them Blizzards!" He was trying to convince the Yankees he had more than the 3 heavy guns actually in his 300 yard battle line - a single 32 pound and two 18 pound cannon. The rebels managed to loosen the armor on the Chillicothe's case mate, and open a leak or two in the hull. But the primary achievement of this noisy but otherwise harmless engagement was that it told the Federals what they faced and it gave Loring his nickname - "Old Blizzards".

The Chillicothe withdrew back up the river, to contemplate what had been learned, and the rebel gunners began to worry.  Because of Loring's rapid fire tactic, their ammunition supply had been severely depleted.  But there was nothing to be done before the Yankees returned, a few minutes after 4:00pm.  The Chillicothe was in the forefront, but now she was joined by the 175 foot long, 512 ton fully ironclad USS Baron DeKalib (above), carrying a 10 inch, two 9 inch and two 8 inch cannons, six 32 pound, three 30 pound and a singe 12 pound rifled gun. When the Federals opened fire this time they were determined to pound the rebel fort into submission , all night long if necessary.

What decided the battle 5 minutes later was the kind of event which inspired Napoleon to say he would always take a lucky general over a skillful one. As the Chillicothe was loading her fifth shot of the engagement, a 32 pound Confederate shell entered one of her narrow gun ports and struck the very head of an 11 inch shell just about to be rammed down the barrel. Both shells promptly exploded. Four Yankees were killed, and 10 wounded. As a testament to Yankee metallurgy, the gun was undamaged. But the Chillicothe was out of action for the time being. And since, in the narrow channel, the two gun boats had been strapped together, with an empty fuel barge as a bumper between them, the DeKalib was forced to withdraw as well.

And that terminated the first assault on Fort Pemberton, and the first attempt to sneak in Vicksburg's back door.

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