Saturday, October 23, 2021

VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty-One

 

On the Wednesday afternoon of 24 June, 1863, Captain Ferdinand Osmin (Fred) Claiborne, commander of the Maryland 3rd Light Artillery, received word that the Yankees appeared to be moving to attack  the rebel trench line, a quarter mile north of the Hall's Ferry road. 
The Maryland cannon were supporting Colonel Alexander Reynold's Tennessee brigade, which had seen little action so far, in part because the ground here was more broken, and in part because it was five miles from the Yankee supply base at Chickasaw Bayou, and a Yankee Supply road was still under construction. So it seemed unlikely the Yankees were serious in their movements. Still, anxious to be involved in the great siege, Fred borrowed a handheld telescope from his cousin, Colonel William Howard Claiborne, and hurried forward to see for himself.
Neither Captain Claiborne, nor most of the crewmen in his battery, were from Maryland. Fred himself had been born in Vicksburg, but had been raised, educated and joined the Confederate army in New Orleans. He had been transferred to the 3rd Maryland while in Richmond, Virginia, at the behest of one of his many cousins.  Because of the continual "wastage" of war, most of the 100 men in the unit had been drafted from East Tennessee or Georgia. So far, they had done most of their fighting in Tennessee and Mississippi. Like an increasing number of Confederate units, after 3 years of war, the 3rd Maryland Artillery, were orphans.
Since the core ideology of the Confederacy was state's rights,  state regiments were supplied by state governments,   And with no state politicians to protect them, the 6 guns of the 3rd Maryland were repeatedly split up, the parts sent on distant duties.  Back in April, 3 guns had been assigned to the captured boat “Queen of the West”.  And when it had been sunk at Grand Lake, Louisiana,  all of those guns were lost, and 9 gunners drowned.
Just days earlier, Fred had noted the sad condition of his men. “Our rations are growing more scarce every day...We have a quantity of bacon yet on hand, but...the men receive only one-quarter rations... such as rice, pea meal and rice flour. The corn has given out long since. Rations of sugar, lard, molasses and tobacco are issued, but this does not make amends for the want of bread, and the men are growing weaker every day.” 
Today, seeing that the Yankees had pushed a battery forward, and were opening fire, Fred Claiborne gave the signal for his 3 remaining cannon to open fire as well. And as he did so, a Yankee shell burst nearby and a chunk of spinning shrapnel sliced off much of the Captain's face, killing him instantly. Just another young man sacrificed to defend Vicksburg.
Doctor Colonel Ashbel Smith (above), a Texan by choice and a reluctant rebel, watched the decline of his men in the Texas Lunette as only a doctor could.  He noted the rations issued to his men had been, “...reduced to little more than sufficient to sustain life. Five ounces of musty corn-meal and pea flour were nominally issued daily. In point of fact, this allowance did not exceed three ounces.” Educated at Yale and in Paris, the 57 year old Doctor Smith had intimately witnessed epidemics of cholera and Yellow Fever. Despite his own iron constitution, the doctor recognized the inevitable prognosis for Vicksburg. “...The health of the men did not seem to suffer immediately from want of rations, but all gradually emaciated and became weak...many were found with swollen ankles and symptoms of incipient scurvy.”
Weeks earlier, a “wag” within the city – unknown if they were civilian or military – had written out a bill of fare for an imagined “Hotel de Vicksburg”. The fantasy meal included “Mule Tail Soup, followed by Mule Rump Roast Stuffed with Rice. Or perhaps the discerning customers might prefer Mule Spare Ribs Plain with Mule Liver Hashed” But those had times had been given way when all but a hand full of the mules had been killed by federal artillery or slaughtered. The current bitter joke among Pemberton's hungry army was “Whatever became of Fido?” But in its turn, even that desperate jibe was losing its humor.
Across the lines, Grant could smell victory. A regular occupant of his headquarters, Charles Dana (above)  - the man sent by Secretary of War Stanton to keep an eye on Grant – caught the general's optimism. On Monday, 29 June, 1863, Dana notified Stanton that “Two separate parties of deserters from Vicksburg agree... rations have now been reduced lower than ever; that extreme dissatisfaction exists among the garrison, and that it is agreed on all hands that the city will be surrendered on Saturday, July 4, if, indeed, it can hold on so long as that.”
One week more. Inside the trench lines, the rebels had been hoping and praying for salvation, a salvation with a name – the persnickety and talented 56 year old Joseph Eggleston Johnston.
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