Shortly
after the battle of Plains Store, Lieutenant Colonel James Francis
O'Brien sought to rally his hometown of Charlestown, Massachusetts to
the suddenly unnerving cause of freedom. He began by denouncing the
rebellion, “ which has caused thousands of our citizens to fill
bloody graves.” And he had no doubt as to the cause of all this misery,
identifying it as “the noxious institution of slavery”.
However, many in the north felt that fighting to defend the Union of the
States was one thing, while fighting to free black skinned men, women
and children was something else. The Irish in Boston were at the
bottom of America's economic ladder, and saw ex-slaves as
competition. But O'Brien wanted his fellow citizens to see the
connection between their lives and freedom and the freedom of others.
He
wrote, “Slave labor feeds our enemy in the field, digs his ditches,
and builds his fortifications. Every slave liberated by our arms is a
diminishment of rebel power. Every slave who wields a spade or musket
in our cause is so much added to our strength.” Then James went
further. “Now ...our blood is up, our armor is buckled on, the
shield and sword are in our hands, and we are ready to stand on the
blood sprinkled fields of our ancestors and swear in the presence of
high heaven that this Union in which the happiness of unborn millions
reposes, shall live.” In that one breathless appeal, an Irish
immigrant had seen the yet unborn of African ancestry joined with
the yet unborn of Irish descent as partners in any future America.
At
2:00 a.m., on Friday, 22 May, 1863, the men of 34 year old Brigadier
General Cuvier Grover's division began landing at Bayou Sara. Often sited for
bravery - he had even led a bayonet attack against “Stonewall”
Jackson at Seven Pines – Grover was a courageous and smart
commander. And he did not let a driving rain storm prevent his 4th
division from securing the crossings of Thompson's Creek before
nightfall and meeting up with Yankee cavalry. Immediately behind came the 3rd Division of 37
year old curly haired Wisconsin lawyer, Brigadier General Halbert
Eleazer Paine.
Also
landing at Bayou Sara were 6 regiments of the Corps D'Afrique and the
4 regiments of the “Native Guards”, under 53 year old New York
lawyer, Brigadier General Daniel Ullman (above).
Ulman had approached
Lincoln a year earlier, and urged him to allow black men to fight for
their own freedom. And
now he was leading almost 5,000 of them into battle. The war was
about to change in a very fundamental way.
Inside
the trenches of Vicksburg, staunch rebel Emma Balfour was learning to
face the transition into this new world. “If you see a shell burst
above you,” she told her diary, “stand still, unless it is very
high; if it be the sound of a Parrot, the shot has passed before you
heard it...”
She thought the Yankees lacked respect for the
rebels, alleging they were firing at the city, “...thinking that
they will wear out the women and children and sick, and Gen.
Pemberton will be forced to surrender the place on that account, but
they little know the spirit of Vicksburg’s women and children if
they expect this. Rather than let them know they are causing us any
suffering we would be content to suffer martyrdom.”
But
Brigadier General William Tecumseh Sherman, facing the extreme right
of the Vicksburg defenses, had something more aggressive in mind.
Two rebel cannon threatened his sappers trying to dig an outflanking
trench south of Mint Spring Bayou, at the extreme end of the rebel line.
Because of the swampy ground in the area, he could not
place his own artillery to suppress their fire. He asked 59 year old
Admiral David Dixon Porter for the use of a single ironclad boat to
knock out the offending battery.
The
problem, from Admiral Porter's viewpoint, was that any gunboat sent
to deal with these two guns would have to pass within range of
the Upper Water Battery, at the foot of Fort Hill – three 32 pound
rifled cannons, one 32 pound smooth-bore cannon and a single 10”
Columbiad. There was no ship in Porter's brown water navy which could
stand up to that kind of point blank fire power in daylight. And the
gunboat had to come down in daylight, and hug the eastern bank, to hit the
2 offending rebel guns. In short it was damn near suicidal. Still,
Porter had never yet turned down a request for help from the army,
and he had no intention of starting now.
Porter
chose the USS Cincinnati for the mission - a 512 ton, 175 feet long
stern wheel ironclad, with a crew of 251 officers and men. She had
just arrived from Cairo, having been rebuilt after being sunk in May
of 1862, at Fort Pillow. And she was now steaming under the command
of a great-great-grandson of Ben Franklin, 21 year old Lieutenant
George Mifflin Bache, Jr. (above)
The Cincinnati (above) could make 4 knots on her
own, and steaming with the current south around the Desoto promontory
she would be making almost 7 or 8 knots relative to the shore
batteries, which gave her at least a chance of getting her four 32
pound port side rifles close enough to silence the offending cannon. In
preparation they covered her deck in layers of green wood, and
stacked hay around her boiler, intending to soak it in river water
just before setting out.
And
then the Cincinnati had a stroke of luck. Observers on the western
shore reported that the guns of the Water Battery had disappeared. At
least one was seen being manhandled out of the battery, so presumably
they had all been shifted to strengthen the landward defenses.
Lieutenant Bache was told his odds of surviving the mission had just improved
substantially. Except they hadn't. Only 1 gun, the smooth-bore 32
pounder, had been moved. The other three 32 pound rifled cannon and
the big Columbiad were still there, sitting low on their carriages
and no longer visible from the western shore.
Leaving
the guns recessed was the idea of battery commander, 20 year old baby faced Captain William Pratt “Buck” Parks (above), out of Little Rock, Arkansas.
If he had not been plagued with reoccurring bouts of illness, “Buck”
might have become a major by now. After his latest absence he was
returned to duty as a quartermaster, and might have been at least
partially responsible for the great Vicksburg pea bread disaster.
Clearly his skill was as a line officer, which he displayed after
being abruptly transferred to the Arkansas Battery, aka the Upper
Water Battery.
On
Tuesday, 26 May, 1863, the attentive Captain Parks read a coded
message being flashed via Yankee semaphore flags down the west
bank of the Mississippi. And he broke the code. A federal ironclad gun boat was coming down
tomorrow morning to knock out two guns on the extreme right flank of
the rebel line. Overnight Parks added piles of cut brush to
camouflage the now raised guns. Amazingly not a single Yankee noticed, or
if they did, did not bother to notify the Cincinnati.
At about 8:30 a.m., Wednesday, 27 May,
1863, the USS Cincinnati steamed around the tip of the DeSoto
peninsula. Less than thirty minutes later it was all over. The
first round fired by Park's guns was a 32 pound shot, at point blank
range. It blasted through the Cincinnati's 2 ½ inch sloping armor
like paper, plowed through the gun deck, penetrated the magazine and
passed through the keel, breaking the gunboat's back.
As the
Mississippi began flooding into the ship, the second rebel shot
sliced her tiller ropes, damaging her steering. The third shell
passed through the pilot house, killing the helmsman and injuring
several men next to him. Lieutenant Bache took the wheel. Standing
now in the center of a sudden hell, he wrote, “ The
enemy fired rapidly, and from all their batteries... hitting us
almost every time. We were especially annoyed by plunging
shots...(which) went entirely through our protection hay, woods, and
iron. “
According
to the correspondent for Harper's Weekly, “She went gallantly into
action...and blazed away at the rebel batteries,.” But with a
barrage of rifled shells cutting through the armor, Bache turned the
Cincinnati back up stream. This immediately cut the ironclad's speed
to a mere knot against the current, leaving her a sitting duck. “I
ran her upstream,” Bache reported, “and as near the right-hand
shore as our damaged steering apparatus would permit...we ran close
in, got out a plank, and put the wounded ashore. We also got a hawser
out to make fast to a tree to hold her until she sunk.”
In
his report to Admiral Porter, Bach figured “...about 15 (men) were
drowned and about 25 killed and wounded, and 1 probably taken
prisoner.” The good news, according to the Lieutenant, was that, “
The boat sank in about 3 fathoms of water, lies level, and can easily
be raised....” Also, “The vessel went down with her colors nailed
to the mast, or rather the stump of one, all three having been shot
away. Our fire until the magazine was drowned, was good, and I am
satisfied did damage.”
The
truth was the Cincinnati barely fired a round, and hit nothing. So
after gambling a $90,000 vessel ($25 million in today's dollars), and
a crew of 250 men, the government of the United States lost the boat
and 50 men, and gained nothing except making it clear again to their
enemy they would spare no expense in wealth or life to capture Vicksburg and destroy the
rebellion.