A half of a century has passed since the memorable Vicksburg campaign
of the Civil War began in the year 1863.
It was my lot to take part in the Vicksburg campaign, and, in giving
some reminiscences of that siege, I must speak from the standpoint
of a soldier of the 45th Illinois Regiment, Gen. Logan’s division in
Gen. McPherson’s 17th Army Corps, being a part of Gen. Grant’s army.
Before taking you to the actual siege we must carry you with the army
from Milliken’s Bend on the Louisiana shore above Vicksburg round on
the west side of the Mississippi River to Bruinsburg, 70 miles below
Vicksburg, and tell you of the marches and battles we had before we
entered the city. In the spring of 1863 we find Gen. Grant and his army
of 30,000 men encamped at Milliken’s Bend. We could not cross the river
at that point and attack Vicksburg from the north, inasmuch as a large
portion of that country was an impassable swamp. The first plan devised
was to cut a canal to the west, thereby changing the current of the
river, by which it was proposed to carry troops, forage and ammunition
by transports south of Vicksburg, but this scheme proved ineffectual
and was abandoned. Where Vicksburg stands, the cliffs rise abruptly
from the water’s edge 200 feet. Twenty-eight heavy guns were mounted on
the river front, all of which had a plunging fire. Our gunboats could
not elevate their guns to do them any damage. Vicksburg was impregnable
from the north and the river front. Jeff Davis said: “Vicksburg is the
Gibralter of America.” By the way, speaking of Jeff Davis reminds me he
had a plantation not far from Vicksburg. Soon after the Yankees reached
that vicinity, Jeff’s slaves deserted him, bag and baggage, and a queer
lot of contrabands they were, indeed.
Notice the daring plan of Gen. Grant, namely, to take his army around
on the Louisiana shore to a point south of Vicksburg, cross the river,
cut loose from his base of supplies and enter the enemy’s country.
Gen. Grant devised the plan to have Admiral Porter’s gunboats and
several steamboats, loaded with rations and ammunition, run the
batteries at Vicksburg and be ready to transport the army across the
river. The first intimation the rank and file had of such a thing was a
notice that our Colonel received one day from the Commanding General:
that volunteers were wanted to man the steamboats; to act as firemen,
engineers, pilots, etc. The Adjutant called the regiment into line,
and the Colonel explained what was wanted. He told the soldiers of
the dangerous undertaking; that in all probability the steamers would
be riddled with shot and shell and many might perish. Notwithstanding
all this, if there were any who would volunteer for this service,
let them step three paces to the front. Almost the entire regiment
stepped to the front. There was one Lieutenant who did not step to
the front. Suffice it to say he was never promoted. The reason is
obvious. The Colonel then told the Captains to select those who had
had some experience on the river, and enough men were found to man
a hundred steamers. There was one of those brave volunteers of our
regiment--Charlie Evans--who held to the pilot wheel, when a cannon
ball went crashing through the pilot house, driving pieces of timber
against him with such force that he never fully recovered, and a few
years after we buried him at Galena, Ill. Now the boats are loaded and
manned by those brave boys from the Northern prairies. All is ready,
the night is propitious, the signal is given and Admiral Porter’s
flotilla of gunboats and steamers start down the river on the 16th day
of April, 1863, to run that storm of fire and iron hail. The enemy
endeavored to send those boats and their heroic crews to “Davy Jones’
Locker” that night, but with the exception of one boat, the “Henry
Clay,” they finally passed through. For two hours and forty minutes
the fleet was under fire. Every transport was struck and disabled. For
eight miles the enemy’s cannon hurled shot at them, but the loss of men
was small in killed and wounded. Now the gunboats and steamboats have
run the rebel batteries and are below the city ready to transport the
troops and cannon from the west bank of the river to the east.
Prior to the running of the batteries, many of the troops had marched
down on the Louisiana side of the river to Hard Times and Bruinsburg,
and were waiting for the boats to arrive, with much anxiety, fearful
that they would not stand the awful hammering the enemy would give
them. The first to show up was the burning wreck of the “Henry Clay.”
As it floated by an old southern man whose magnificent mansion bordered
the Mississippi River, rubbed his hands in glee, exclaiming, “Where
are your gunboats now? Vicksburg has put an end to them all.” Not long
after his jubilant remark the gunboats appeared coming down the river,
and presently the whole fleet hove in sight; then the boys, turning to
the haughty Southerner, said: “Did Vicksburg put an end to them all?”
The old man was too mad to endure the taunts, and turning away, hid
himself. The next day he set fire to his own home rather than allow it
to shelter his fancied enemies.
About this time there was excitement in Richmond and Washington.
The Confederate government was amazed that their “Gibralter” should
have been passed by the “Yankee” fleet of gunboats. At Washington,
consternation took hold of the officers at the war office. Gen.
Grant had not informed Gen. Halleck of his plans as to the capture of
Vicksburg. Halleck was angry and sent a dispatch ordering Gen. Grant
to turn back, but the dispatch failed to reach its destination. There
had been a determined effort made at Washington by some Senators and
Governors and friends of other Generals, to have Grant removed from
his command; but President Lincoln said to them: “I rather like the
man; I think we’ll try him a little longer.” So, because of the faith
of Lincoln in Grant’s ability, it became possible for him to make
that most remarkable campaign and capture of Vicksburg. I believe it
is a fact, that now, in the military schools of Europe, the military
campaign of Gen. Grant at Vicksburg is studied and considered by
authorities as one of the most daring and brilliantly executed
movements in modern warfare.
Now for the campaign as seen from a soldier’s view. The army has been
conveyed across the river. The enemy falls back to Port Gibson,
burning the bridges across the Bayou Pierre. The loss of the bridges
does not delay the army very long, for we are supplied with boats or
pontoons; with these, in addition to lumber from fences, houses and
barns, a bridge is soon built. After crossing the pontoon bridge we
soon encountered the enemy at Thompson Hill or Port Gibson. A sharp
fight ensues, but the enemy is soon routed and retreats. During our
fight at Thompson Hill we had with us that day a Congressman from the
North. He had a horse and was riding with our Colonel when the quick
rattle of musketry in our front was heard. The order was quickly given
and we were moving forward in line of battle. Presently the usual
noisy introduction of the sharp crack of the musket and the whiz of
the minie-ball opened the exercises. There was a deep ravine a little
in our rear. The Congressman or his horse was very tired and remained
in the ravine until he heard the wild cheer of our victorious charge,
when he came out of that ravine on the gallop, swinging his hat and
shouting: “Give it to ’em, boys.” It was safe then. But you couldn’t
blame him much. He wasn’t getting the enormous sum of $13 per month
to be shot at. A Congressman’s salary didn’t justify the sacrifice of
being riddled with bullets.
Three days’ rations are issued to the soldiers and this we are told
must sustain us for the next five days. The march is then resumed. On
May 12th, at 11 o’clock, we meet the enemy, 5,000 strong, at Raymond,
and the fight is opened by the artillery and a sharp battle is fought.
The enemy charge our lines, but are repulsed, the lighting continuing
until about 2 o’clock p. m., when the order for a charge is given and
forward with a cheer the boys go, the enemy breaking and retreating.
We occupy the town of Raymond that night. The dead are buried; the
wounded are cared for and by daybreak the next morning we are on the
march, headed for Jackson, Miss., to clean out Gen. Johnston, and his
army that he has concentrated at that place. Our rations are getting
short, but the country affords us a fair supply of some things, such
as fresh pigs, chickens and vegetables, which we take as a matter of
crippling the enemy as well as to satisfy the hungry boys in blue. Our
march begins at 4 o’clock in the morning. One day we marched all day in
the drizzling rain and at night when we camped we were wet to the skin,
hungry and tired, but not one word of grumbling could be heard. On May
14, 1863, we arrive at the outskirts of Jackson and meet the enemy.
During the battle at Jackson a rather amusing incident happened. We
were in line of battle and had moved up to the vicinity of a plantation
around which were scattered a number of bee hives. Now, had we not been
engaged with the enemy, our boys would have liked nothing better than
to have despoiled those bees and supped on honey, but for the present
we had important work on hand. The bees were quiet enough until the
minie-balls went crashing through their hives, when they came out and
rushed at us with terrible ferocity. Men can stand up and be shot at,
all day, with the deadly musket, but when a swarm of bees pounces upon
a company of men in concert, it’s beyond human nature to stand it,
and so two or three companies retired from the field. In fact, our
lines were re-formed in that particular locality so as to avoid those
Southern bees. They had no “rebel yell,” but their charge on us was
a successful one. We sometimes captured things we did not want. At
Jackson we captured a smallpox hospital and its inmates. We didn’t want
it, you may be sure, for everybody kept at a respectful distance from
it.
The battle of Jackson is fought, the final charge is made and the city
is ours, Gen. Johnston and his army retreating to the north and east.
The final charge made by the Iowa boys under Gen. Crocker of Iowa, was
one of the most superb and gallant of the war. Gen. Grant said that,
with the exception of Sherman and Sheridan, Gen. Crocker was the best
division commander in the army. We are now 80 miles from Grand Gulf and
50 miles east of Vicksburg. Immediately the army is wheeled about and
faced toward Vicksburg, and the march commences to that city.