On
Sunday, 5 April, 1863, about 50 old men and boys of the Tensas
Parish mounted militia - AKA the 15th Independent Louisiana Cavalry
- were on a "training patrol" along the eastern shore of
Bayou Vidal, in one of the richest cotton growing parishes of cotton
rich Louisiana.
The parish had 118 plantations, a third of which held more than 100 humans in bondage. After two
full years of war slaves in the parish now outnumbered white males by
two to one, heightening white fears of a slave revolt.
Late that afternoon the militia spotted a couple of Negroes
paddling a flatboat across the bayou. With Yankees at Richmond, Louisiana, all
boats had been ordered held on the eastern shore. The whites ordered
the slaves to halt. And when the command was ignored the militiamen
fired on their disobedient servants.
And to the white men's shock,
somebody shot back. One militiaman was killed and another wounded.
They rushed back to inform their commander, Major Isaac F. Harrison
that the Yankees had come to Tensas Parish.
Major
Harrison's first responsibility was to notify his superior officers,
up the ladder to the deaf and cranky 59 year old Lieutenant General
Theophilus Hunter Holmes (above). But that seemed a pointless exercise because Holmes owed his exalted
appointment to his incompetence, which had driven General Robert E.
Lee to demand his removal from the eastern theater, and his long
friendship to Confederate President, Jefferson Davis, who had made his incompetent friend Commander of the Trans Mississippi. Besides, Holmes
was far away in Little Rock, Arkansas, obsessed with guarding the few
resources his department had. So Major Harrison sent notice not only to
General Holmes but also to the nearest commander in the neighboring
Department of Mississippi - 32 year old Georgian, Major General John
Stevens Bowen.
Bowen (above) was a competent field commander, but his division at Grand Gulf,
Mississippi actually numbered little more than 5,000 men. Still, he
told his boss, Lieutenant General John C. Pemberton, in far off
Jackson, Mississippi, he wanted to send some men across the river to
find out what Grant was up to.
General
Pemberton had suspicions about Bowen. After the battle Corinth the previous year, the Georgia native had filed charges of incompetence against his superior, General Earl Van Dorn. The General was found not guilty, but the stink of betrayal lingered over Bowen and made him suspect. Besides, Pemberton doubted the Yankees were moving south. Earlier - on Friday,
3 April, 1863 - all but 7,000 men of General Nathaniel Bank's 35,000 man
Federal Army of the Gulf had disappeared from lines defending Baton
Rogue, on the east bank of the Mississippi. Pemberton had no idea
where those 28,000 blue coated soldiers had gone, but it seemed unlikely Grant would be moving
south to cross the river if Banks was no longer there to reinforce
him. Also, scouts reported there was heavy steam boat traffic on the Mississippi between
Milliken's Bend and Memphis. This seemed to indicate Grant was
shifting his army for another invasion of northern Mississippi. No, the
Yankees at New Carthage were just a raiding party - at least that's
what it looked like from Pemberton's perspective in Jackson. So he
told Bowen to go ahead with a reconnaissance of Louisiana, but to remain
ready to re-call those men if they were needed in Jackson.
On
Thursday, 9 April, the 1st and 2nd under strength rebel Missouri
regiments, under 28 year old lawyer and politician, Colonel Francis
Marion Cockrell, crossed the river to Hard Times Landing. Cockrell
was to find out what the Yankees were doing in Louisiana and if they
were serious about it. So he pushed his infantry 6 miles north up the
levee road beyond the head of the crescent Lake St. Joseph, south of New
Carthage. There they bumped into the advance party of the 49th
Indiana Volunteers.
Among
the Hoosiers was Doctor John Ritter, and from his perspective the
Yankees were not so much a threat, as threatened. "The Rebs",
Dr. Ritter wrote his wife, had "occupied the high land down (to)
the river. Their pickets were in sight all the time...We threw up
breast works across the levee below and by that means held them in
check...but if they had planted their artillery they could have
shelled us out..." Except
Cockrell had no field guns. So after staring at each other for 5 days Colonel Cockrell decided to provoke a response by falling on an isolated
company of the 2nd Illinois Cavalry, occupying the central houses of
a plantation owned by Judge William Dunbar, guarding the Yankee right
flank along Mills Bayou.
On
the afternoon of the Tuesday, 14 April, members of the 1st Missouri
left their positions along Bayou Vidal and marched west, crossing
Mill Bayou, before swinging north behind the Federal positions. After
a few fitful hours of sleep, at 4:00am the next morning, they waded
into the waist deep water of the bayou again, falling on the Yankees
without warning. In the dark the Missourians were able to capture
one sentry, and kill a second before the Yankee cavalrymen awoke and
fell back from the main house in confusion.
Still
in the dark, the Missourians gathered up the wives and children of
the overseers and other white employees who had been left behind.
They also rounded up the 100 slaves in their cabins, driving the
frightened people like cattle back across Mill Bayou in the dark.
They would also claimed to have discovered a chaplain of the 2nd
Illinois "entertaining" a “young, full grown, athletic”
slave woman in a back room of the big house. The truth of that
situation can never be proven because no one's version of events can be
taken as gospel.
By
dawn additional federal units had been awakened, and part of the 10th
Ohio Infantry regiment joined the remainder of the 2nd Illinois in
driving on the plantation with artillery support. Shortly after dawn
the rebels were all safely back across Mill Bayou, taking any of
their dead and wounded with them, leaving the Federals to claim only
one rebel captured, in exchange for 1 dead, 2 wounded and 2 missing.
It was not much of an engagement, unless you unlucky enough to have
been shot or killed. But the rapid counter attack by the 10th Ohio,
told Colonel Cockrell that there was strength behind this move south,
and that it was not likely these Yankees were a mere raiding party.
The
nervous Dr. Ritter, feeling vulnerable and isolated atop the open
levee south of New Carthage, was not as alone as he felt. Behind him
Federal engineers were directing the work of the the 1st Missouri
Federal and the 127 Illinois and 34th Indiana infantry regiments
building a dam...
...and 4 bridges - one 200 feet long - across flooded
countryside, and widening to 20 feet and improving and "corduroying" 40 miles of road
from Richmond to New Carthage, and " the road
from Miliken's bend to Richmond, Louisiana.
Soldiers
have been building corduroy roads across swamps for 6,000 years, and
the process is simple. It merely requires unlimited manpower, and
vast quantities of young trees. First, you clear the roadway, not only of
trees but of stumps. Ideally you dig out the roadbed to a depth of a
few inches. Then you lay felled trees, each 4 to 6 inches in diameter,
across the road, packing the trunks as tightly together as you can,
using branches and mud to chock the logs and keep them from rolling under the pressure
of a passing legion, a single horse or a wagon. Then you cover the
"road" in the mud dug out earlier, to cushion the impact of
traffic and to provide safe footing for the horses.
During
the American Civil War only the Yankees seemed to build corduroy
roads. Observed a member of the rebel Army of Northern Virginia,
"...the roads might have been ‘corduroyed’ according to the
Yankee plan...but timber was not to be procured for such a purpose;
what little there might be was economically served out for fuel." A corduroy road could strip a forest of a human generation worth of trees.
In
fact the Federal armies got pretty good at it, learning that a fence
stripped if its posts would provide enough wood to corduroy half its
length in road. But no corduroy
road would survive long under the intense pressure of military use. And marching 50,000 men over the 12 miles of corduroy road between
Young's point and the Desoto Peninsula, would destroy the entire
structure, even before the endless supply trains required to feed the
men and horses which had marched down that same road.
But Grant "doubled down"
on this approach. Besides the 40 mile interior route to New Carthage, he ordered the improvement of a second, shorter
route, 8 miles long atop the levees directly from Young's Point to the
shore of the Desoto Peninsula south of Vicksburg. But then, Grant had
no intention of supplying his army down either road he chose to march over.
Federal
troops taking the shorter route would be fully visible to
Confederates in Vicksburg, while the inland route was masked from enemy view. Also, Grant discovered that altho
the digging had not added enough depth to the bayous to make them
usable for shipping, it had deepened them enough to form a flooded obstruction to any rebel infantry from the west wishing to interfere
with the march south.
So by 15
April, the day Colonel Cockrell's Missourians had poked at the
Federal's right flank, Grant was ready to order the Hoosiers to push
further south, toward Lake St. Joseph and beyond to Hard Times Landing,
to make room for the remainder of General McClernand's Corps, and the rest of the
army behind them.
Grant's
goal seemed obvious, from his perspective at Millinken's Bend. But
Pemberton was high and dry in Jackson, Mississippi. Pemberton did not
awaken every morning to the sound and smell of the river. He had not
been living next to it and on it for three months, as Grant had.
Pemberton's perspective inclined him to look to Grant's army, when
his eyes and ears should have been following Grant's brown water navy.
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