April 9th, we received marching orders which were read to us at dress
parade. On the evening of the 10th we struck tents, marched on to the
boats, and went down the river four miles. Here we joined General
Quinby’s division. General Hovey was now in command of our division.
On the morning of the 12th, our squadron moved on down the river. We
went past Napoleon at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. On the morning of
the 13th, we ran past Lake Providence, Louisiana.
We landed at Millikin’s Bend at 12 o’clock at noon, this being about
210 miles below Helena. On the morning of the 14th we went up the
river two miles, got off of the boat, and went into camp.
April 15th, we loaded all of our baggage on a barge and prepared for
a march. This country was low and swampy, and a great many of our
boys had died from malaria and other diseases. Many of them were
buried on the levee. Our troops had lain here since the charge at
Chickasaw Landing.
On the morning of the 16th we started to march around Vicksburg.
We went into camp at night near Richmond, a small town in Madison
Parish, Louisiana. The next morning we marched twelve miles and went
into camp on Dawson’s Plantation. We remained at this place three
days. Our teams went back for rations.
About this time General Grant sent his Yankee gunboat past the
blockade at night. It fooled the rebel gunners and each fired a shot
at the supposed monster. As the nights were very dark, we could see
the flashes of the guns and hear the boom of the heavy guns which
were planted on the river bluff for seven miles in length.
At this place we had roll call seven times each day in order to keep
the boys in camp. On the 19th, our cavalry had a small engagement.
After they had taken a few prisoners the rebels fell back.
On the 21st, we marched to Fisk’s Plantation, a distance of about
thirteen miles. We went into camp near the bayou. Grant had been
trying to open up this bayou for several months, so that he might get
the gunboats around Vicksburg. It rained all that day making it very
disagreeable.
There was heavy cannonading at night, as our gunboats and transports
were running the blockade. We must have been twenty-five miles away
but the roar and flashes could plainly be heard and seen.
We lay here several days while our pioneers were constructing pontoon
bridges across the bayou. Here our siege guns were brought up. They
were drawn by several yoke of cattle, as it was too muddy in that
black sticky soil for horses or mules to get through, with big loads.
On the 27th we resumed our march. While crossing the bridge one of
our heavy guns fell over the side of the bridge, and went down into
thirty feet of water, dragging the teams with it. It began raining
and after marching nine miles through the rain and mud which was knee
deep, we came to the banks of the Mississippi River.
All of our fleet which had run the blockade at Vicksburg, lay at this
place, which we named Perkins’ Landing.
On the 28th, General A. P. Hovey’s division embarked on boats and
barges and went fifteen miles to Hard Times Landing, which is five
miles above Grand Gulf.
On the morning of the 29th, all of us marched on to boats with barges
lashed on either side, which were filled with troops ready for the
charge. Our squadron of ironclads, seven in number, moved in line on
down toward the rebel forts. It was a grand sight to behold those
great ironclad monsters gliding down against this mighty fortress at
Grand Gulf, with its large guns, to receive tons of iron hail against
their iron sides.
Everything was as still as death when we neared the fort. Many were
holding their breaths and listening for the terrible fray to begin.
On the boats went, the Benton in advance. When she got opposite the
fort, she circled round until within 150 yards of it. She then opened
up with a broadside of six heavy one hundred pounders one after the
other. Each boat followed in succession. Scarcely had our guns opened
fire when the enemy replied with their heavy 284 pound guns.
The fort became a mass of fire and smoke. The Tuscumba in the same
manner as the Benton, poured in her broadside. Next came the Baron,
DeKalb, the Lafayette, the Carondalet and so on.
The fort seemed to be silenced and then it was that our brigade on
a boat and two barges, moved on down with orders to charge that
American Gibraltar. We were in good spirits, for we thought that no
human life could exist in that flame of hell and destruction, which
rained over the rebels for two long hours. All was silent, but we had
run down but a short distance when a white cloud of smoke belched out
of the fort like a volcano, and the heavy shot and shell once more
poured out from that crater.
One of the largest shots struck not over twenty yards from our bow.
It was not many seconds before our pilot had the bows of our boats
turned in the opposite direction.
We were about two miles from the fort when the battle was renewed,
part of our gunboats running close to the fort and using grape shot
and cannister. The old Lafayette lay at a distance of three miles up
the gulf, using her big stern gun and dropping shell directly into
the fort.
The hog chains were cut off of the Tuscumba, and she, put out of
business, dropped down below the fort.
After four hours of hard fighting, our boats drew off to cool down
and rest a while. It must have been terrible for the boys who were
shut up in those iron monsters.
Our force landed and a detail of volunteers was called to stay on the
boats while the blockade was being run. We marched round six miles on
the west side of the river. At 8 o’clock we were on the river bank,
five miles below Grand Gulf. At nine o’clock our entire fleet ran the
blockade. This sight will be remembered by many persons as long as
they live. We could see tongues of fire pouring forth from the mouths
of those mighty monsters. The sound on the still night air was heard
many miles away. The earth trembled as far away as where we were
looking on. Our boats got through but they were riddled up somewhat
badly.
Our loss was twelve killed and wounded. The rebel loss was
twenty-six. Among their wounded was a brigadier general. We lost
six battery horses on the transports, while they were running the
blockade.
On the morning of the 30th we crossed the river. Our regiment crossed
on the old ironclad Benton. The marks of the shot on her iron plates
were terrible. Great pieces of shell had been forced under her iron
plates, and they were blue all over where the minnie balls had struck
and glanced off.
After we had crossed we drew a small amount of hardtack and a
little piece of bacon. At four o’clock we started on a march in the
direction of Port Gibson, which is seven miles back of Grand Gulf.
We marched all night over a very rough, broken country. At 2 o’clock
on the morning of the 1st of May, we ran into the rebel army. We were
halted from our tiresome march by the terrific sound and the crashing
shell of a battery, which broke the still morning air with its echo
over hill and valley for many miles and warned even the little birds
of that desperate day which was to come and cause so many homes to
mourn the loss of some dear friend.
Hovey’s division being in front, our regiment moved down and stacked
our arms in line of battle. We were not farther than 100 yards from
a concealed line of rebels. They lay in a canebrake. Everything
was as still as death and this was the darkest part of the night,
the hour just before day. Our regiment was ordered to move to the
right and form the right wing of our line of battle so that the
troops in the rear might come up and form in line. But before our
lines were formed, that ravine and canebrake became a solid sheet
of fire, caused by the rebel batteries and small arms. Daylight was
now beginning to break and we could see that the shells were playing
havoc with our troops on the hill, that were forcing their way up to
the front to form our lines.
We had stacked our guns and the boys were trying to make some coffee,
but the battery in front seeing that the hungry boys needed some heat
to make their coffee boil quickly, rolled in a few shells and blew
all of the fire out. Some of the boys swearing, declared that it had
come from our own guns, for the shell came directly from the place
where we had stacked our arms that morning.
The fight was now on in earnest, and there was no time for arguing
about the matter. We now piled our knapsacks and prepared for the
charge.
General Osterhos had charged in front, and our regiment charged down
across a large ravine, which was grown up with cane, making it almost
impassable. The rattle of shot and shell striking the cane and the
whoops and yells of the charging regiments made a terrible noise.
We moved across and supported the 8th Indiana, which was commanded by
General Benton. The rebels gave way on all parts of their lines and
fell back. We then moved up and supported a battery in the edge of a
big plantation. They were shelling the rebels on the retreat. Some
old houses were near by and the rebel batteries were knocking the
chinking and splinters in all directions.
We followed up the retreat five miles. We found everything imaginable
scattered along the road. The rebels halted and formed their lines
in the timber near Port Gibson. We moved up within a mile of their
lines, halted, and stacked our arms, to take a rest.
At two o’clock, the rebels were reinforced by General Tracy and
Green, who had fresh forces, and they were also good fighters. We
could see them coming down on us in as nice a line as was ever seen
in any army. We then had to get busy, and in a hurry too. We advanced
to meet the enemy. Our regiment stopped at a ditch. The 47th Indiana
and the 19th Kentucky stayed with us.
When the rebel line got within forty yards of us their men fell to
the ground and remained there one and one-fourth hours, before we
repulsed them. We averaged fifty-eight rounds of cartridges to the
man before the rebels withdrew. After that we never grumbled about
carrying sixty rounds of cartridges.
After General Tracy and many others had been slain, the rebels fell
back demoralized. Very many of their men had been slain and wounded.
Our regiment had only thirty-four killed and wounded, as we were
protected by the ditch, and did not suffer like other regiments.
The fighting along the line was kept up until five o’clock in the
evening when the rebels fell back, some by the way of Grand Gulf
and the others in the direction of Vicksburg. At two o’clock on the
morning of the 2nd of May we were awakened by the jar and report of
the exploding magazines which were blown up at Grand Gulf, when the
rebels evacuated that strong fortress. We could see their signals
going up all night, and thought that the rebels meant to concentrate
their forces and fight a pitched battle with us, on the next day, but
they saw that we had come to stay and decided that it would be better
for them to take all of their men to Vicksburg.
Now it could plainly be seen that nothing could hold the blockade of
the Mississippi against our mighty force of ironclads and the army
which had undertaken to open it up.
Our loss at Port Gibson was 500 killed and wounded. The rebel loss
was about 600 killed and wounded and we also took 700 of their men
as prisoners. The divisions that were engaged at this place were A.
P. Hovey’s, Osterhos’, and Carr’s. Logan’s division came up just at
dark, and Quinby’s division did not get into the fight at all.
May 2, 1863, we moved into Port Gibson. Here we had to wait until a
pontoon bridge could be constructed over Bayou Pierre, as the rebels
had burned the bridges, while on their retreat.
Our boys found many valuables, such as watches, jewelry, silverware,
and some gold and silver coin at this place. We also found plenty
of good bacon which was buried in hogsheads and sodded over. This
came in good play as our rations were getting slim. The citizens all
seemed to be in mourning. Many of them had their property burned on
the supposition that they had fought us the day before.
On the morning of the 3rd, our regiment crossed the bayou, and
marched out six miles in the direction of Grand Gulf on a scout. We
found plenty of bacon and other articles of food, which the rebels
had concealed in the woods, but they were not sharp enough to hide
anything from a yankee.
At two o’clock we started back, but when we came to the Jackson road
we learned that our entire army had moved on. We then followed up as
a rear guard.
We marched twelve miles and went into camp near Rocky Springs.
Our army had nothing to eat and we were cut off from our base of
supplies. Thus we had to forage off of the country. We foraged corn
and ran one or two mills, and this furnished a half pint of meal to
the man. Some made bread and cooked it on coals and others rolled the
dough on sticks and baked it, and still others mixed water and meal
together, making mush without any salt. At least we had a time to get
something to satisfy our gnawing stomachs.
We lay here until the evening of the 6th when we moved up eight
miles. We went into camp and drew one cracker to the man, for supper,
but we had plenty of water to wash it down with.
On the morning of the 7th we moved up three miles and formed on the
line of battle which was being established. Our cavalry had a sharp
skirmish and took twelve prisoners. We had grand review by General
Grant.
Sherman’s corps arrived on the 10th. We marched ten miles and went
into camp. Sherman’s corps passed us late in the evening and went
into camp two miles in advance of us. This was near the enemy’s line
of battle and we looked for a heavy battle at any moment.
On the morning of the 12th we marched on past Sherman’s division.
After a march of five miles we came up with our cavalry command,
which was engaged in a sharp little fight with the rebel advance. We
drove them back to the main Vicksburg army near Edward’s Depot.
We crossed Baker’s Creek and went into the camp for the night. We
were so near the rebels that we could hear them talk at night, and
our teamsters and their cavalry got corn at the same cribs, between
our lines. While our teamster of company A, Timothy Riggle, was in
the crib filling his sack, a squad of rebel cavalry came to the door.
One of the rebels looked in and called out, “Boys, heah is a d----
yank in heah stealing ouah cohn.” Then this to the yankee, “Get out
of heah.”
Our teamster hardly knew how to answer, but he replied, “Gentlemen,
please give me time to get a few more ears. My mules are nearly
starved.”
When they heard him call them gentlemen they gave him a little time.
I suppose that they had never been called gentlemen before. But the
teamster didn’t take time to fill his sack. He was glad to change
places with the rebs, and feed his mules on half rations. When he
came into camp with his hair standing on end, and reported his escape
from prison, the Captain said to him, “Bully for you, Tim.”
That night Sherman, with his corps passed to our rear, and went with
all speed toward Raymond. On the morning of the 13th we heard the
batteries of Sherman’s force open up on the rebel army at Raymond.
During the night the rebels had concentrated a large force with the
expectation of a general fight the next morning. But at daybreak when
they heard the noise of Sherman’s batteries at Raymond, they came
down on us like demons. The bullets flew thick and fast but the most
of them went too high as we were under the hill.
As we had only a small detachment against the main rebel army, we
were ordered to fall in line and pull out on double quick time.
I will relate a little circumstance which took place while we were
in this critical position. In forming our lines we were ordered to
left wheel into line. One of our old comrades by the name of John
Lochner, who was a very clumsy Dutchman, slipped on a pile of rails
and peeled all of the skin off of half of his nose. He was standing
there cursing in Dutch and the Captain seeing him with the blood
running down his face, yelled out, “Lochner, if you are shot, go to
the ambulance.”
“Shoot, hell Ciptain, shoot mit a rail in de nose.” he replied. But
he stayed in his place in the ranks anyway.
We crossed the creek and were soon out of the range of the rebels’
bullets. A very heavy rain set in making a hard muddy march. Seeing
the rebels did not follow us, we crossed over Baker’s Creek on a
bridge and then set the bridge on fire. We went into camp in the
bottom.
That night we tore down some cotton pens and each fellow had a good,
soft, cotton bed. But just as a person thinks that he is getting some
great pleasure for himself, death and destruction come along and cut
off his happiness. About 10 o’clock that night, we were almost washed
out of that camp by a flood. We waded to the hills in water that was
sometimes waist deep.
On the 14th, we marched through Raymond. Here we passed over the
battleground. It bore the marks of a hard fought battle. In the fight
Sherman had taken several prisoners, but he had lost 500 men, killed
and wounded. He had gone on to Jackson, the capital of Mississippi.
We, tired and hungry, marched on through rain and mud. At the end of
twelve miles, we went into camp we knew not where. But one thing we
did know. That was that we were tolerably well mixed up with a large
rebel army and would have to untangle soon.
On the morning of the 15th, we began marching at six o’clock, and
after a distance of five miles had been traveled we came to a little
town on the Jackson and Vicksburg Railroad, by the name of Clinton.
The distance to Jackson from here was eighteen miles. We received a
dispatch from General Sherman stating that he had captured the town
of Jackson, captured several prisoners, and put General Johnson’s
rebel army to flight.
Our army consisting of Hovey’s and Logan’s divisions turned back
toward Vicksburg. We were foraging along the road as many of the boys
had empty haversacks, and not a morsel to eat. I jumped over into a
garden and grabbed a few onions. The other boys followed my example
and soon the garden was cleaned up. I had procured a small amount
of Orleans molasses and when we stopped for a short rest I made my
breakfast on onions and molasses. I will always remember that I
enjoyed that breakfast more than any that I ever ate.
We were soon called into line and we began our march again. After
a march of ten miles we ran into the rebel’s advance guard, near
Bolton’s Depot. Our cavalry drove the picket in and we formed a
line of battle. We stacked our guns for we were hungry. As soon as
our guns were stacked, we were out looking for something to eat,
just anything to stop the gnawing at our weak stomachs. Two of my
messmates, John Clark and John Toliver, and I ran for a house down
in the field. When we got to the house we saw an old French lady
standing on the portico, with a large bull dog tied to the post.
The old lady forbade our coming inside, but we could not understand
her gibberish, and even if we could, we were too hungry to pay any
attention. There was a smokehouse on the place and we could smell
the delicious odor which the good hams hanging in there made. We
knocked the gate down, and while I was having a battle with the dog
the boys went for the meat. The dog placed his feet on my breast, but
I had my bayonet in the scabbard and I grabbed the dog with my left
hand and with my right hand I ran my bayonet through the dog’s ribs.
This made the old lady jump up and down and swear like a trooper.
I met the boys coming out of the smokehouse with two big hams on
their shoulders. One of them called out, “We have plenty of meat,
Fulfer, you get the honey.” The old lady came with an ax and I saw
that something had to be done. As quickly as possible, I grabbed up
a large bee stand that was open at the bottom, and threw it on my
shoulder. At last the battle was won. The last time that I saw that
old French woman, she was flying through the door with the yard full
of angry bees after her. There was at least seventy-five pounds of
honey in that gum.
Just at this critical moment the rebel cavalry drove our cavalry
back. The bullets rattled through the cornstalks and past us like
hail. Toliver called back at the top of his voice, “Hold on to that
bee gum, Fulfer.” When we got back to the regiment all of the boys
were in line of battle ready for business.
We camped here that night and the two different cavalries were
skirmishing at intervals all through the night. Some of company A
will always remember that we had honey and ham that night for supper.
On the cold ground we were lying,
Filled with thoughts of home and God,
For we knew that on the morrow.
Some would sleep beneath the sod.
Farewell mother, you may never
Press me to your breast again.
But you’ll not forget me mother.
If I’m numbered with the slain.