VICKSBURG Chapter Ninety - One

 

The whistle on the approaching locomotive shrieked in desperation. Angry hands grabbed the big iron “harp switch”, (above, left) and forcefully slammed the flagged handle aside. With a ringing thud the lever shoved the twin iron rails 3 inches, opening the point.

A cheer rose from the men watching round the station. The 4 large drive wheels on the locomotive abruptly stopped turning, and white yellow sparks danced where the iron wheels now slid along the iron rails. One of the thin men shouted, “We are done walking, General!” The rabble cheered again. One of the rebel officers drew his Navy Colt revolver from his belt.

The trouble began after the Army of Mississippi reached the Southern Railroad 12 miles east of Jackson. They had been marching for a week, from Vicksburg to Edwards Depot, to Raymond, 3 more days to the Pearl River, 2 more days to be ferried across and to march north to Brandon. They had been promised that here they would board cars of the Southern Railroad for the 40 mile ride to Enterprise, and then a one day march south to new camps where they would be fed and rested while they waited to be exchanged for Yankee prisoners, and get back into this war.

These 30,000 sick, exhausted Confederate soldiers watched train after train disappear toward Enterprise, carrying everything from supplies to the Mississippi Governor and his state's records. Then, on Wednesday, 15 May the men were told there would be no trains for them. Discipline collapsed.

Private Epram McDowell Anderson, a 21 year old from the First Missouri Brigade, witnessed the riot of weary men. “Efforts were made,” he wrote a year after the war, “by moving the switch, to throw the trains...from the track...officers had to draw and threaten to use their side-arms before the mob could be subdued. (Later) One man got up in the plaza of Brandon and offered to...go and hang (General) Pemberton, the traitor.” And still the dispirited remnants of the Army of Mississippi had to complete their journey via “shank's mare” to the Chickasawhay River and Enterprise, 12 miles inside Alabama.

General “Old Joe” Johnston (above) had to stop the trains, to protect the locomotives. West of the still damaged Pearl River bridge some 90 steam engines had been or soon would be lost by the Confederacy. None of these could be replaced. 

And while the Confederacy did everything it could to keep the Yankees from learning of the Brandon riot, 32 year old William Nugent, one time lawyer and now Mississippi Inspector General admitted in a 28 July letter to his wife Eleanor that, “...after the fall of Vicksburg I entertained the most gloomy forebodings...The great demoralization produced in our army...was enough to make one dispirited.” He hoped, he said, that with time the officers could, “...reorganize and re-discipline our army...”. It was a desperate hope. But with the fall of Vicksburg, the Confederacy had little left but desperation.

Disaster followed upon disaster. On Thursday, 9 July the outpost of Port Hudson surrendered 6,500 men to General Nathaniel Banks. On Friday, 10 July Joseph 'Old Joe' Johnston and his Army of Relief retreated back inside the defenses of Jackson. 

But with the Pearl River Bridge still not repaired, his 28,000 men had no hope of defending the town against the 40,000 Yankees gathering outside its trenches. The weather was hot, General Sherman noted, adding that “...on the morning of July 17th the place was found evacuated. General Steele's division was sent in pursuit as far as Brandon...but General Johnston had carried his army safely off, and pursuit in that hot weather would have been fatal to my command.”

And with that anticlimax, the Vicksburg campaign came to an end. Confederate President Jefferson Davis (above) had no doubt who and what was to blame for the outcome. Vicksburg was lost, he insisted, because of a “want of provisions inside and a general outside who would not fight.” The latter, in Davis' opinion,  being the cranky and passive-aggressive Joe Johnston - whom Davis had appointed. 

But what about the general inside, the uninspired and uninspiring Lieutenant General John Clifford Pemberton (above)? He was also Davis' choice. And Davis had advised him not to follow Johnston's' advice. It seemed to be all of a piece, that and Davis' refusal to admit any personal culpability in the disaster, 

The Vicksburg Campaign began in December of 1862 and had lasted 7 months through July of 1863. It cost the Yankees 10,000 dead, wounded and missing, while the Confederacy suffered over 45,000 causalities. 

In just 7 months, Jefferson Davis' insistence on holding Vicksburg and Port Hudson, even after Grant had destroyed the Pearl River Bridge, had cost the Confederate government an entire field army, as well as all but a 12 mile eastern sliver of the state of Mississippi, some 48,500 square miles of sovereignty lost.

Jefferson Davis' culpability in this disastrous campaign proved a damning indictment of his military skills. The President of the Confederacy had no business telling any general where to place his men. But he kept right on doing it.

David Dixon Porter (above),  the 53 year old Admiral of the Yankee brown water navy, had been accused of never praising a superior. And he was never a close friend of Grant's. But he had nothing but praise for the Yankee Major General. 

“No ordinary general could have taken Vicksburg” said Porter. “Some men would have given it up....some would have demanded half the resources of the Union; but Grant never wavered in his determination, or in his hopes of success."

Most important of all to Midwest farmers, a war which had seemed a stalemate 7 months earlier, was now clearly on the path to victory. As Lincoln put it, “The father of waters now ran un-vexed to the sea.”  And that was the achievement of Major General Ulysses Grant.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Forty - Three

 

The first manifestation of Grant's shift in strategy came shortly after 4:30am on Wednesday, 13 May, 1863, when the bloodied troops of General Logan's 3^rd division marched through the village of Raymond, and surprisingly took the right hand fork in the road. They were heading not toward the capital of Jackson, 25 miles to the east, but north. And by noon they had reached the tiny railroad town of Clinton, Mississippi.

          

After the bloodletting of 12 May, General John Gregg (above) withdrew his battalion to a line along Snake Creek. But he could not stay there. His little force was now reduced to less than 3,000 effectives - healthy men still in organized units with ammunition and the willing to fight. But this was the only force available to defend the state capital. Allowing his men a few hours of rest, Gregg pulled them back further to Mississippi Springs. But in the process, because the Texas General had no cavalry, he lost contact with the Yankees. The afternoon of 13 May, 1863, Gregg returned to Jackson, to gather every additional man he could find, to defend the city.

Meanwhile, the small village of Clinton, fell without a shot fired in its defense. In effect, Grant merely extended his arm, that appendage being Logan's division (above), and the great prize the Federal armies had striven for the past 5 months, dropped into the palm of his hand like a ripe fruit. He now had only to close his fist and the Gibraltar of the Confederacy, the western post supporting the thousand mile long jugular that pumped life's blood from the bounty of the trans-Mississippi across the continent to Richmond, Virginia would be rendered assunder. The instant Yankee soldiers picked up the first ten foot long iron rail from its bed or set fire to the first bridge over a dry creek along the Southern Railroad, the 45,000 rebel soldiers 40 miles to the east defending Vicksburg, were cut off.

The Yankees spent the afternoon tearing up rails for a mile or more to the west of Clinton Station. Anything in town they could not eat or wear or use to entertain themselves, they burned. And while they did, McPherson pushed the 13 regiments of 33 year old Brigadier General Marcellus Monroe Crocker's 14^th Division out the Jackson road. And before the tail of McPherson's XVII Corps had even reached the fork in the road, the 17,000 men of William Tecumseh Sherman's XV Corps marched into Raymond on the Utica road. The next day, 14 May, they were to strike at the capital of the state of Mississippi.

The first effect of the war on the 3,000 residents of Jackson had been inflation. Within a year a pair of boots cost as much as $125.00, a pound of sugar was going for $3.50, Tea cost $7.00 a pound and locally grown watermelons cost up to $25.00 apiece. Still, the war remained an abstraction until April of 1862, when trains delivered a small portion of the the 8,000 wounded from the bloody fields around Shiloh Church, Tennessee, to the hospitals and homes of Jackson.

That winter, when Grant first invaded the state,  Jackson was encircled by a single “mild” trench dug by slaves.  By then the population had almost doubled, the newcomers being refugees from the battle zones.

And there was also the Jackson Arsenal, in the College Green neighborhood, 2 blocks east and a block south of the state capital building (above). 

In the 2 story brick North School building in College Green – an antebellum boy's school - some 80 men, women and children assembled ammunition -  small arms' cartridges up stairs and artillery shells on the ground floor. 

The work was hard, the pay was low, the conditions abysmal, and the outcome inevitable. At about 3:00pm on Wednesday, 5 November, 1862 there was an horrific explosion, which blew apart the school. This was followed by fires which set off any of the stored munitions left.

The Weekly Mississippian reported 2 days later, “ All the men and women employed in the building...had been hurled to instantaneous destruction...One man had a leg torn off and his brains literally blown out. The body of a poor girl was hanging by one foot to the limb of a tree...her clothes were still burning. Other bodies were blown to the distance of from fifty to one hundred and fifty yards, and presented a mutilated and most shocking appearance. The packages of powder and the shells were yet continually exploding...The fire engine was promptly on the ground, but could not do much owing to the want of water.”

It would appear that several people in authority knew full well the unsafe conditions in the arsenal, since, as the Mississippian newspaper pointed out, “The officers in charge of the Arsenal...save one superintendent, were not on duty at the site.” One was, in fact, “in his sick room.” Those who died did so because they needed the money, and/or because they were dedicated to the cause.

Then, at about 10:30pm that very night “...a fire broke out in (a South State Street)...jewelry and dry-goods establishment...The fire raged northward...and destroyed the house occupied by Mrs. Evans as a millinery establishment and continued its ravages to Mr. Weirs, next to John Martz, next to Mr. John Robinson's where the progress of the flames was arrested. Also destroyed was the depot of the Southern Railroad with several surrounding buildings. Several bales of cotton and a considerable quantity of goods were also destroyed..." One resident noted that before dawn, many of the goods saved from the burning homes and stores were then stolen by looters. Now it felt as if the war was  truly coming to Jackson.

Six months of dread followed, and it began to weigh upon the citizens. As soon as Grant had crossed the Mississippi river, General Pemberton had advised the governor to send the state archives into the interior. People took note of that. Less than a week later, the Mobile Alabama Register and Advertiser newspaper noted that in Jackson, “The trains for the interior are crowded with non-combatants, and the sidewalks blocked up with cases, barrels, old fashioned trunks and chests,..."  Civilians were getting out, and a few soldiers, like General Gregg, were coming in.

And the night of Wednesday, 13 May, 1863, General Gregg was startled to discover yet another arrival in the capital of Mississippi, Lieutenant General Joseph Eggleston Johnson. No one had been told to expect the old man. But Gregg welcomed him, particularly because he was closely followed by 3,000 reinforcements.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty-Nine

 

The whistle on the approaching locomotive shrieked in desperation. Angry hands grabbed the big iron “harp switch”, and forcefully slammed the flagged handle aside. With a ringing thud the lever shoved the twin iron rails 3 inches, opening the point.

A cheer rose from the men watching round the station. The 4 large drive wheels on the locomotive abruptly stopped turning, and white yellow sparks danced where the iron wheels now slid along the iron rails. One of the thin men shouted, “We are done walking, General!” The rabble cheered again. One of the rebel officers drew his Navy Colt revolver from his belt.

The trouble began after the Army of Mississippi reached the Southern Railroad 12 miles east of Jackson. They had been marching for a week, from Vicksburg to Edwards Depot, to Raymond, 3 more days to the Pearl River, 2 more days to be ferried across and to march north to Brandon. They had been promised they would board cars of the Southern Railroad for the 40 mile ride to Enterprise, and then a one day march south to new camps where they would be fed and rested while they waited to be exchanged for Yankee prisoners. 

These 30,000 sick, exhausted Confederate soldiers watched train after train disappear toward Enterprise, carrying everything from supplies to the Mississippi Governor and his state's records. Then, on Wednesday, 15 May the men were told there would be no trains for them. Discipline collapsed.

Private Epram McDowell Anderson, a 21 year old from the First Missouri Brigade, witnessed the riot of weary men. “Efforts were made,” he wrote a year after the war, “by moving the switch, to throw the trains...from the track...officers had to draw and threaten to use their side-arms before the mob could be subdued. (Later) One man got up in the plaza of Brandon and offered to...go and hang (General) Pemberton, the traitor.” And the dispirited remnants of the Army of Mississippi had to complete their journey via “shank's mare” to the Chickasawhay River and Enterprise, 12 miles inside Alabama.

General “Old Joe” Johnston (above) had to stop the trains, to protect the locomotives. West of the still damaged Pearl River bridge some 90 steam engines had been or soon would be lost. None of these could be replaced. 

And while the Confederacy did everything it could to keep the Yankees from learning of the Brandon riot, 32 year old William Nugent, one time lawyer and now Mississippi Inspector General admitted in a 28 July letter to his wife Eleanor that, “...after the fall of Vicksburg I entertained the most gloomy forebodings...The great demoralization produced in our army...was enough to make one dispirited.” He hoped, he said, that with time the officers could, “...reorganize and re-discipline our army...”. It was a desperate hope. But with the fall of Vicksburg, the Confederacy had little left but desperation.

Disaster followed upon disaster. On Thursday, 9 July the outpost of Port Hudson surrendered 6,500 men to General Nathaniel Banks. On Friday, 10 July Joseph 'Old Joe' Johnston and his Army of Relief retreated back inside the defenses of Jackson. 

But with the Pearl River Bridge still not repaired, his 28,000 men had no hope of defending the town against the 40,000 Yankees gathering outside its trenches. The weather was hot, General Sherman noted, adding that “...on the morning of July 17th the place was found evacuated. General Steele's division was sent in pursuit as far as Brandon...but General Johnston had carried his army safely off, and pursuit in that hot weather would have been fatal to my command.”

And with that anticlimax, the Vicksburg campaign came to an end. Confederate President Jefferson Davis (above) had no doubt who and what was to blame for the outcome. Vicksburg was lost, he insisted, because of a “want of provisions inside and a general outside who would not fight.” The latter being the cranky and passive-aggressive Joe Johnston - whom Davis had appointed. 

But what about the general inside, the uninspired and uninspiring Lieutenant General John Clifford Pemberton (above)? He was also Davis' choice. And Davis had advised him not to follow Johnston's' advice. It seemed to be all of a piece, that and Davis' refusal to admit any personal culpability in the disaster, 

The Vicksburg Campaign began in December of 1862 and had lasted 7 months through July of 1863. It cost the Yankees 10,000 dead, wounded and missing, while the Confederacy suffered over 45,000 causalities. 

In just 7 months, Jefferson Davis' insistence on holding Vicksburg and Port Hudson, even after Grant had destroyed the Pearl River Bridge, had cost the Confederate government an entire field army, as well as all but a 12 mile eastern sliver of the state of Mississippi, some 48,500 square miles of sovereignty lost.

Jefferson Davis' culpability in this disastrous campaign proved a damning indictment of his military skills. The President of the Confederacy had no business telling any general where to place his men.

David Dixon Porter (above),  the 53 year old Admiral of the Yankee brown water navy, had been accused of never praising a superior. And he was never a close friend of Grant's. But he had nothing but praise for the Major General. 

“No ordinary general could have taken Vicksburg” said Porter. “Some men would have given it up....some would have demanded half the resources of the Union; but Grant never wavered in his determination, or in his hopes of success."

Most important of all to Midwest farmers, a war which had seemed a stalemate 7 months earlier, was now clearly on the path to victory. As Lincoln put it, “The father of waters now ran unvexed to the sea.”  And that was the achievement of Major General Grant.

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