VICKSBURG Chapter Ninety

 

The tall, thin, dark haired woman with the lantern jaw raised a flat hand to shade her eyes from the setting sun. She watched the creaking sad wagon pulled slowly on wobbly wheels by the long shadow of a weary mare. Like so many beasts this summer, the filly's ribs showed through her dust covered hide.

Mary's heart rose and then fell when she recognized the familiar hulk of Father John O'Bannon (above)  holding the reins. Her husband had to be in the wagon.  The priest had brought John to her. In the back of an ambulance.

A commission of officers from both armies (above)  had drawn up and supervised the signing of paroles for every rebel soldier in Vicksburg. With that slip of paper soldiers could justify their absence from the battlefield, back home or in transient to home.  

Such a valued prize (above)  brought out the 31,000 who surrendered over the 18 to 20,000 'effectives' Pemberton had mustered to defend the city. That 'missing third' of Pemberton's army were the flotsam that collects around any army, particularly a losing one, particularly a badly run one, trapped in an urban area.

The 400 structures of Vicksburg (above) offered deserters and malingers 400 places to hide. It was relatively easy for men seeking to escape the constant shelling and sniping to find a quiet place to sleep, or even a meal away from the trenches. Considering the quality of the official rations, there was little advantage to staying with their units. Most did, but at least a third chose to fend for themselves. Once surrendered, the starving Army of Mississippi was kept alive by the Yankees, but as soon as they marched unarmed out of Vicksburg, they were consuming their own food again. And Grant's goal was to reclaim his supply lines for his own men only,  as quickly as possible.

Finally, at nine on the morning of Saturday, 11 July, 1863, 7 days after the surrender, the garrison of Vicksburg, “...waved a parting adieu to the scene of that terrible and bloody drama...”, or so remembered 21 year old private Epram McDowell Anderson.  There was the humiliation of spot searches as they left the city, to be certain they took no weapons with them. But after that brief reminder of their helplessness, the Army of Mississippi was sent on their way,  Private's Anderson's 1^st Missouri infantry were the lead regiment on the march, and he wrote, “Never was an army more grateful than ours on leaving Vicksburg. It was like a prisoner who has been unshackled in his cell and turned lose to breath again the pure air....rejoicing in a sense of freedom....” 

General Grant had offered rebel General John Stevens Bowen (above)  the option of staying in the city until he had fully recovered, but the southern gentleman insisted on accompanying his regiment in withdrawal, at least in part because, as private Anderson pointed out, “The first day's march brought us to Edwards.”

That winter Mary Lucrecia Preston Kennerly Bowen (above) was 28 years old and about to deliver her third child. With an infant mortality rate of 20% under favorable conditions, she had chosen to hole up on the plantation of “friends” 17 miles to the east of Vicksburg, outside of Edward's Depot, with the wives of 2 of John's subordinates – Colonel Pembroke S. Senteny and Major Eugene Erwin of the 2^nd Missouri regiment - as her midwives.

A native of St. Louis, Mary was an army brat and a fierce daughter of the south - her three brothers were fighting for the Confederacy. In the spring of 1862 Mary had left her children in her mother's care and rushed to Tennessee to nurse John after the general had been wounded at the Battle of Shiloh. John's recovery was confirmed when the couple conceived their 3^rd child. Mary then followed John to his new posting at Grand Gulf, Mississippi. She stayed there until March of 1863, when her “time came”. But on that July evening, Mary already knew that both of her midwives were now widows. And when reunited with her husband that Sunday evening, she came face to face with the  war so many of her generation had sought.

In Vicksburg, John Bowen (above) had consumed contaminated water or food touched by the contaminated hands of another. This had infected him with an alien bacteria, which had then killed most of the native bacteria which digested his food. After that, nothing he consumed reached his cells, but dehydration would kill him long before he starved to death. 

John's eyes were sunken. His mouth was dry, his lips cracked. He had a fever so high he kept passing in and out of conciseness. His belly was bloated. Most of the food and water he forced down was quickly vomited back up. He had little energy to even sit up. His gut kept cramping and he was plagued by the constant urge to defecate. When he did his stools were watery with blood and mucus. It was called the flux, or the bloody flux. In modern vernacular it was diarrhea, and it killed far more soldiers than did guns.

Sunday morning the Confederate army resumed their march, forced south to avoid fouling Sherman's supply lines as he advanced again on Jackson.  After 2 miles the road dropped off the high ground and forked, with the right passage leading another 14 miles to Raymond. But Father O'Bannon realized his patient could go no further. He sought assistance at the Morrison plantation along the Raymond Road, but was informed by the overseer that all the slaves had been marched off to Alabama, leaving no one to help the General. The man suggested they should take the south fork, down the Mount Moriah Road, another 2 miles to home of John Walton.

The single story house was called Valley Farm (above), and had been occupied by John Walton Jr. and his wife Margaret since at least 1850. After they carried the general into the house, Father O'Bannon wrote in his notebook, “July 12, General Bowen was too sick to move any further.” It would be an ugly night. Every hour John became weaker.

By midday on Monday, 13 July, 1863, Major General John Stevens Bowen was dead. Neighbor Robert Dickson supplied a coffin of rough wood. And one of the best hopes the Confederacy had for a second generation of military leaders was buried in Mr. Walton's garden, while Mary sobbed quietly at the graveside.

Monday morning, 13 July, the rebel army continued their march east, fading away a little bit more with every man who, hearing the gun fire from Jackson, and clutching his parole (above),  fell out of the line and started for home. Many would return when they were exchanged for captured Yankees. But many would not. On Wednesday, 16 July, the Army of Mississippi reached the Pearl River 10 miles below Jackson, and crossed into Alabama, back into Confederate held territory.

Mary Kennerly Bowen stayed on in Raymond, to remain close to John. Come the cooler months, she saw that John's body was moved to consecrated ground in the nearby Bethesda Presbyterian Church Cemetery (above).  Then, Mary followed the rebel army, this time to Atlanta. She served as a nurse during that campaign, and was even wounded in the Battle of Altoona. 

In September of 1864, when Atlanta was captured by General Sherman, the red headed Yankee offered an escort to see Mrs. Bowen back to her children in St. Louis. But the unrequited rebel proudly refused.  And so her children remained partners in her war.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty - Nine

 

A woman of Vicksburg awoke in her cave on Saturday morning, 4 July, 1863 to an unusual sound. Silence. Returning to her home, later that morning, in her kitchen,  she met a soldier looking for scraps. He told her that “...the men in Vicksburg will never forgive Pemberton...A child would have known better than to shut men up in this cursed trap to starve to death...Haven’t I seen my friends carted out three or four in a box, that had died of starvation... because we had a fool for a general.”

At about 10 a.m., white flags began to appear along the rebel fortifications. Painfully thin Confederate regiments (above)  " “staggered like drunken men from emaciation, and...wept like children..." and formed pale skinned ranks on the ridge line. They stacked their rifles, handguns, shotguns, swords and bayonets and furled their battle flags. Then they glumly waited.

John Benjamin Sanborn (above) was a 36 year old widowed lawyer from St. Paul, Minnesota, who had fought in every major engagement of the campaign since the Battle of Port Gibson.  Now a full bird Colonel, he and his old regiment, the 4^th Minnesota infantry, were General Logan's choice to lead the 3^rd division into Vicksburg. The evening before Sanborn's brigade had been issued new uniforms. The soldiers had shined the brass on their muskets and buttons until it shown like new as they formed up along the Jackson Road behind their band.

With General Grant and his staff in the lead, followed by General John Alexander Logan and his 3^rd division staff, the Yankees marched through the remnants of the Louisiana redoubt and down into the heart of Vicksburg. The 3^rd division band was playing “Hail Columbia”, the defacto national anthem since 1800, as well as “The Star Spangled Banner”, which would not be the official anthem until 1931.

Carried in an ambulance at the head of the 45^th Illinois, second regiment in the column, was the wounded Colonel Jasper Adalmorn Maltby. His head bandages still seeped blood from the 22 June battle in the crater of the Louisiana redan,  but the 36 year old gunsmith from Galena was determined to celebrate with his regiment, both crippled in the victory. He would shortly be promoted to Brigadier General, but would struggle to recover from his injuries.

As the column passed into the city itself, the victorious Yankee cannon outside slowly fired a 31 gun salute – one shot for each state in the union, including those in rebellion. By limiting the salute in this way, Grant disguised the number of cannon already moved to Sherman's front 20 miles to the east, which was now preparing to advance against Joe Johnston's Army of Relief. At the junction with Cherry Street the regiment reached the Warren County Courthouse (above) , where they formed around the base of the building. 

In front of the east portico, Grant dismounted and (above) was greeted by his defeated foe - Lieutenant General Pemberton. This set the Yankee soldiers to cheering.

A resident of the United States for just 5 years, Norwegian born 22 year old Private Knud Helling, wrote his best friend, “ We marched into the city in good order with (band) playing and the flags flying...The Rebel soldiers and the inhabitants stood in groups on the street corners and stared at us while we passed them...The inhabitants....looked very pale and wretched...The city is somewhat damaged by the horrible bombardment, and many of the houses have marks from our cannon balls....” John Thurston, also with the 4^th Minnesota, recalled it as “...the most glorious 4^th of July I ever spent.”

The cheering, happy blue coats drove the weary Confederates to evacuate the court house. With them gone, Yankee staff officers clambered up the iron staircase to the cupola, for an unimpeded view of their victory. One of them, who had imbibed of spirits, noticed the staircase had been forged in Cincinnati, and promptly cursed “...the impudence of the people who thought they could whip the United States when they couldn't even make their own staircases.”

Confederate Captain John Henry Jones was so reduced by hunger that he approached a Union lieutenant and requested permission to buy food. The lieutenant responded that request had to go through military channels, to which Jones replied it must be obvious from his appearance, “I would be dead some days before its return”.  

Laughing at the shared frustration with military bureaucracy, the Yankee remembered he had some “trash” in his haversack. The 32 year old Jones wrote that, “The “trash” consisted of "...about two pounds of gingersnaps and butter crackers; luxuries I had not seen for three years. I was struck dumb with amazement....I fell upon that “trash” like a hungry wolf....the memory of that sumptuous feast still lingers, and my heart yet warms with gratitude towards that good officer for the blessing he bestowed.”

Viewing from her nearby home, Dora Miller with her husband watched the American flag unfurled atop the Warren County Courthouse. They shared northern sympathies and he . “...drew a long breath of contentment. Dora herself wrote, “Now I feel once more at home in mine own country.” In an hour more a grand rush of civilians set out for the river. With the riverfront batteries silent, the Federal fleet of transports now swarmed to the empty docks (above), carrying “coffee and flour.” First come, first served,’ you know,” the couple were told. Within hours crowds were dashing “...through the streets with their arms full, canned goods predominating.”

Grant wrote in his memoirs, “Our soldiers were no sooner inside the lines than the two armies began to fraternize...I myself saw our men taking bread from their haversacks and giving it to the enemy they had so recently been engaged in starving out. It was accepted with avidity and with thanks.” Not every southerner was willing to be gracious. Margaret Lord, wife of the Reverend Lord and mother to Lida, turned down a Yankee offer of food.

From the docks, Grant dispatched a staff officer to Cairo, the nearest secure telegraph station, with the following message for Washington: “The enemy surrendered this morning. The only terms allowed is their parole as prisoners of war. This I regard as a great advantage to us at this moment. It saves, probably, several days in the capture, and leaves (our) troops and transports ready for immediate service...

"....Sherman, with a large force, moves immediately on Johnston, to drive him from the State. I will send troops to the relief of Banks, and return the 9th army corps to Burnside.” The dispatch boat arrived in Cairo about noon on Tuesday, 7 July, 1863. And then the entire world knew.

Grant meanwhile returned to his headquarters, where he ordered all but a few units to prepare to join the march on the Big Black River.   About 5:00 that evening, Logan's men began to spread out into the town. Noted the woman of Vicksburg, “What a contrast to the suffering creatures we had seen so long were these stalwart, well-fed men...Sleek horses, polished arms, bright plumes, - this was the pride and panoply of war. Civilization, discipline, and order seemed to enter with the measured tramp of those marching columns; and the heart turned with throbs of added pity to the worn men in gray, who were being blindly dashed against this embodiment of modern power. And now this “silence that is golden...” 

It would be a another week before the 31,000 rebel soldiers, including sick and wounded, would receive their parole papers, and set out for their homes or other bases to await exchange. The Confederates also surrendered 50 smooth bore field cannons, 31 rifled field guns, 22 howitzers, 46 smooth bore siege guns, 21 rifled siege guns, 1 siege howitzer, and a 10-inch mortar - 172 artillery pieces in total. 

The Yankees also removed from Confederate control 38,000 artillery shells, 58,000 pounds of black powder, 4,800 artillery cartridges and 60,000 muskets.

Editor John Shannon had dismissed a Yankee boast that one day Grant would eat dinner in Vicksburg, by advising the recipe for cooking rabbit was “First, Ketch your rabbit”. The honorable Mr. Shannon now admitted in the last edition of his publication, printed on the back of wallpaper, that Grant had indeed caught his rabbit.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty - Eight

 

At about 10:00 a.m. on Friday, 3 July, 1863, a pair of rebel officers walked 100 yards to the Yankee trenches. Once safely below ground level they were introduced to the short and feisty commander of the 10^th division, XIII Corps, 48 year old regular army General Andrew Jackson Smith. (above). 

The junior Confederate officer, Colonel L.M. Montgomery, carried a letter from Lieutenant General John Crawford Pemberton, which read, “I have the honor to propose an armistice...with the view to arranging terms for the capitulation of Vicksburg. To this end, if agreeable to you, I will appoint three commissioners, to meet a like number to be named by yourself, at such place and hour today as you may find convenient. I make this proposition to save the further effusion of blood, which must otherwise be shed to a frightful extent, feeling myself fully able to maintain my position for a yet indefinite period....”

The letter went from General Smith to Major General James McPherson, and was read by those officers and discussed with their staffs. By the time it had reached Grant, the contents were common knowledge among staff officers, as was the identity of the senior rebel officer, 32 year old Major General John Stevens Bowen (above). He had been promoted to Major General after the Federal noose had cut Vicksburg off from the outside world, so the Confederate Congress was unaware of Pemberton's largess toward the man who had forced the court martial of General Van Dorn – Pemberton's predecessor. Bad feelings in Richmond might delay approval of Bowen's promotion. Still, few would have questioned his qualifications as displayed at Shiloh and Cornith and Champion's Hill.

Like Grant, John Bowen (above, pre war) had graduated West Point. And like Grant, he had been posted to the Jefferson barracks in St. Louis. Both men had married into prominent Missouri families. Transferred to duty in the west, both men were so miserable they resigned from the army. But Grant had then been forced to try his hand at farming, while Bowen could fall back on a family fortune. Bowen became an architect, and returned to St. Louis in the 1850's to open a successful firm with Charles Miller. When Grant was reduced to selling firewood on the street, the firm of Bowen and Miller bought their firewood from Grant. It was not a relationship designed to encourage camaraderie.

Grant's (above) reply to Pemberton reversed the path of the appeal, and was just as widely known. “Your note of this date is just received, proposing an armistice...The useless effusion of blood you propose...can be ended at any time you may choose, by the unconditional surrender of the city and garrison...I have no terms other than those...”

In retrospect Pemberton's note seemed to invite the repetition of Grant's terms from 16 February, 1862, at Fort Donaldson (above), “No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon your works”. Once again Ulysses  Grant would become “Unconditional Surrender Grant" in the press. But Bowen, reading the response while still in the Yankee trenches decided he could not wait for gentlemanly formalities.

Bowen appealed directly to General Smith, requesting that he ask Grant if he would not at least meet with Pemberton in person, today. After a few moments wait a runner returned with Grant's agreement to meet between the lines in front of General McPherson's Corps, at a time of Pemberton's choosing. And then the pair of Confederates carried their rejected truce flag back to the Confederate lines.

Grant's harsh terms set off an animated discussion in Pemberton's headquarters (above) . Honor insisted  the rebels chose to fight rather than accept humiliation. It was insane, of course. There were already 10,000 men on rebel sick lists - 1/3rd of the army too disabled by diarrhea, disease and wounds to participate in a march let alone an attack to reach Johnston's Army of Relief. Then Bowen announced, “General Grant would like to negotiate this afternoon with General Pemberton.”

Grant, of course, had suggested no such thing. Bowen had suggested the meeting. But other than a momentary wonder that Bowen had waited to mention this, the Confederates were greatly relieved. What else could they think except that Grant's written demand was a mere publicity stunt and there were to be the very negotiations which Pemberton had offered in his note. Pemberton (above) quickly sent word through the Yankee lines that he and his negotiators would meet with Grant and his, at 3:00 p.m.

But why had Bowen waited to announce Grant's acceptance of a  meeting? And why had he created the impression that Grant sought negotiations? Bowen knew that with Johnston's army at the Big Black River,  Grant was motivated to drop his demand for unconditional surrender - as he had at Fort Donaldson.   Bowen also knew that most rebels paroled from Vicksburg could re-enter the fight – and they would do that Atlanta in 1864.   But in trying to manipulate Grant and Pemberton into a quicker resolution, the risk was that when Bowen's ruse would be discovered, as it must be, both men would feel cheated, and their anger could result in a slaughter. Why was Bowen running such a risk?

Like every one inside Vicksburg, Bowen was exhausted and near a physical and emotional collapse. Suffering already from the malady which would soon kill him, Bowen may have felt he had not the strength to wait for the slow witted Pemberton to face reality, or for Grant to accept the victory he was being offered, instead of the one he wanted. Bowen may have felt the situation had to be forced. Or he may just been a tired sick man, slowly losing control of his mind and body.

They met at 3:00 p.m under one of the few trees still standing near the rebel trenches (above). Pemberton, ever the gentleman, began by seeking to make Grant's come-down as easy as possible. He said he understood the Yankee had asked for this personal interview. Surprised, Grant honestly answered that he had not. Shaken, but determined, Pemberton then asked what other terms might Grant be willing to offer. Grant replied there were none. And for a moment Pemberton stood silent, feeling as if he had been slapped on the face. Ever the gentleman, he now said stiffly, “Then, sir, it is unnecessary that you and I should hold any further conversation; we will go to fighting again at once.”

And it was now, according to Grant, that John Bowen stepped forward. He began by saying he was anxious that the surrender be consummated right here, and now. He suggested that he and Yankee General Andrew Smith negotiate between themselves. In Pemberton's version, he was the one who made the suggestion. 

In any case, while Grant (above) and Pemberton small talked about the Mexican War, while Smith and Bowen agreed to a cease fire until final terms were decided. Then Bowen suggested Vicksburg would surrender while the Army of Mississippi would simply leave. Presumably Grant would believe they presented no threat because of their physical condition. Grant killed that idea out right. The General from Galena was now so frustrated he ended the meeting.  He accepted the cease fire, and said he would counter Bowen's offer by 10:00 p.m. that night.

It must have been an interesting evening meal in Pemberton's headquarters. The food, what there was of it, was at least warm.  Maybe John Pemberton was too ill to accuse Bowen of duplicity.  But the emotional roller coaster day of that had left them all exhausted. The Gentlemen from the south must have known, no matter what terms Grant offered, they had little choice but to accept them.

Grant must have been struggling with his temper. He'd been lied to. But once he got over that anger, as usual, he saw the situation with clarity. At 10:00 p.m. a white flag appeared over Smith's trench line, heralding a letter addressed to Pemberton – not Bowen. It was a not a negotiation, but a statement of intent. 

“ I will march in one division as a guard and take possession at 8 A.M. tomorrow. As soon as paroles can be made out and signed by the officers and men, you will be allowed to march out of our lines, the officers taking with them their regimental clothing, and Staff, Field and cavalry officers one horse each. The rank and file will be allowed all their clothing, but no other property...any amount of rations you may deem necessary can be taken from the stores you now have...You will be allowed to transport such articles as cannot be carried along. The same conditions will be allowed to all sick and wounded officers and privates as fast as they become able to travel...”

At dawn on Saturday, 4 July, 1863, Pemberton sent his reply. He sought 2 small face saving addendum. First, his men would stack their own arms and colors in front of their current positions, and second they would evacuate their trenches at 10:00 a.m. without turning them over to the Yankees.  Since Grant voiced no objections, that was the way it would be done.

The only thing left for Pemberton to do was to sign his parole and leave town.

Vicksburg had fallen.

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