BEFORE VICKSBURG.
Capture of Arkansas Post.--The Army returns to Milliken's
Bend.--General Sherman and the Journalists.--Arrest of the
Author.--His Trial before a Military Court.--Letter from President
Lincoln.--Capture of Three Journalists.
The army moved against Arkansas Post, which was captured, with its
entire garrison of five thousand men. The fort was dismantled and the
earth-works leveled to the ground. After this was accomplished, the
army returned to Milliken's Bend. General Grant arrived a few days
later, and commenced the operations which culminated in the fall of
Vicksburg.
Before leaving Memphis on the Yazoo expedition, General Sherman issued
an order excluding all civilians, except such as were connected with
the transports, and threatening to treat as a spy any person who
should write accounts for publication which might give information
to the enemy. No journalists were to be allowed to take part in the
affair. One who applied for permission to go in his professional
capacity received a very positive refusal. General Sherman had a
strong antipathy to journalists, amounting almost to a mania, and he
was determined to discourage their presence in his movements against
Vicksburg.
Five or six correspondents accompanied the expedition, some of them
on passes from General Grant, which were believed superior to General
Sherman's order, and others with passes or invitations from officers
in the expedition. I carried a pass from General Grant, and had a
personal invitation from an officer who held a prominent command in
the Army of Arkansas. I had passed Memphis, almost without stopping,
and was not aware of the existence of the prohibitory order until I
reached the Yazoo.
I wrote for _The Herald_ an account of the battle, which I directed to
a friend at Cairo, and placed in the mail on board the head-quarters'
boat. The day after mailing my letter, I learned it was being read at
General Sherman's head-quarters. The General afterward told me that
his mail-agent, Colonel Markland, took my letter, among others, from
the mail, with his full assent, though without his order.
I proceeded to rewrite my account, determined not to trust again to
the head-quarters' mail. When I was about ready to depart, I received
the letter which had been stolen, bearing evident marks of repeated
perusal. Two maps which it originally contained were not returned. I
proceeded to Cairo as the bearer of my own dispatches.
On my return to Milliken's Bend, two weeks later, I experienced a new
sensation. After two interviews with the indignant general, I received
a tender of hospitalities from the provost-marshal of the Army of the
Tennessee. The tender was made in such form as left no opportunity
for declining it. A few days after my arrest, I was honored by a
trial before a military court, consisting of a brigadier-general,
four colonels, and two majors. General Sherman had made the following
charges against me:--
First.--"_Giving information to the enemy._"
Second.--"_Being a spy._"
Third.--"_Disobedience of orders._"
The first and second charges were based on my published letter.
The third declared that I accompanied the expedition without proper
authority, and published a letter without official sanction. These
were my alleged offenses.
My court had a protracted session. It decided there was nothing in
my letter which violated the provisions of the order regulating war
correspondence for the Press. It declared me innocent of the first
and second charges. It could see nothing criminal in the manner of my
accompanying the expedition.
But I was guilty of something. There was a "General Order, Number 67,"
issued in 1861, of whose existence neither myself nor, as far as I
could ascertain, any other journalist, was aware. It provided that no
person should write, print, or cause to be printed "any information
respecting military movements, without the authority and sanction of
the general in command."
Here was the rock on which I split. I had written a letter respecting
military movements, and caused it to be printed, "without the sanction
of the general in command." Correspondents everywhere had done the
same thing, and continued to do it till the end of the war. "Order
Number 67" was as obsolete as the laws of the Medes and Persians, save
on that single occasion. Dispatches by telegraph passed under the eye
of a Government censor, but I never heard of an instance wherein a
letter transmitted by mail received any official sanction.
My court was composed of officers from General Sherman's command,
and was carefully watched by that distinguished military chieftain,
throughout its whole sitting. It wavered in deciding upon the proper
"punishment" for my offense. Should it banish me from that spot, or
should I receive an official censure? It concluded to send me outside
the limits of the Army of the Tennessee.
During the days I passed in the care of the provost-marshal, I perused
all the novels that the region afforded. When these were ended, I
studied a copy of a well-known work on theology, and turned, for light
reading, to the "Pirate's Own Book." A sympathizing friend sent me a
bundle of tracts and a copy of the "Adventures of John A. Murrell."
A volume of lectures upon temperance and a dozen bottles of Allsop's
pale ale, were among the most welcome contributions that I received.
The ale disappeared before the lectures had been thoroughly digested.
The chambermaid of the steamboat displayed the greatest sympathy in my
behalf. She declined to receive payment of a washing-bill, and burst
into tears when I assured her the money was of no use to me.
Her fears for my welfare were caused by a frightful story that had
been told her by a cabin-boy. He maliciously represented that I was
to be executed for attempting to purchase cotton from a Rebel
quartermaster. The verdant woman believed the story for several days.
It may interest some readers to know that the proceedings of a
court-martial are made in writing. The judge-advocate (who holds the
same position as the prosecuting attorney in a civil case) writes his
questions, and then reads them aloud. The answers, as they are given,
are reduced to writing. The questions or objections of the prisoner's
counsel must be made in writing and given to the judge-advocate, to be
read to the court. In trials where a large number of witnesses must be
examined, it is now the custom to make use of "short-hand" writers. In
this way the length of a trial is greatly reduced.
The members of a court-martial sit in full uniform, including sash and
sword, and preserve a most severe and becoming dignity. Whenever the
court wishes to deliberate upon any point of law or evidence, the
room is cleared, neither the prisoner nor his counsel being allowed to
remain. It frequently occurs that the court is thus closed during the
greater part of its sessions. With the necessity for recording all
its proceedings, and frequent stoppages for deliberation, a trial by a
military court is ordinarily very slow.
In obedience to the order of the court, I left the vicinity of the
Army of the Tennessee, and proceeded North.
In departing from Young's Point, I could not obey a certain Scriptural
injunction, as the mud of Louisiana adheres like glue, and defies all
efforts to shake it off. Mr. Albert D. Richardson, of The Tribune,
on behalf of many of my professional friends, called the attention
of President Lincoln to the little affair between General Sherman and
myself.
In his recently published book of experiences during the war, Mr.
Richardson has given a full and graphic account of his interview with
the President. Mr. Lincoln unbent himself from his official cares,
told two of his best stories, conversed for an hour or more upon
the military situation, gave his reasons for the removal of General
McClellan, and expressed his hope in our ultimate success. Declaring
it his inflexible determination not to interfere with the conduct of
any military department, he wrote the following document:--
EXECUTIVE MANSION,
WASHINGTON, _March_ 20, 1863.
WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
Whereas it appears to my satisfaction that Thomas W. Knox, a
correspondent of _The New York Herald_, has been, by the sentence of a
court-martial, excluded from the Military Department under command of
Major-General Grant, and also that General Thayer, president of
the court-martial, which rendered the sentence, and Major-General
McClernand, in command of a corps of that department, and many other
respectable persons, are of opinion that Mr. Knox's offense was
technical, rather than willfully wrong, and that the sentence should
be revoked: Now, therefore, said sentence is hereby so far revoked
as to allow Mr. Knox to return to General Grant's head-quarters, to
remain if General Grant shall give his express assent; and to again
leave the department, if General Grant shall refuse such assent.
A. LINCOLN
With this letter I returned to the army. General Grant referred the
question to General Sherman. In consideration of our quarrel, and
knowing the unamiable character of the latter officer, I should have
been greatly surprised had he given any thing else than a refusal. I
had fully expected to return immediately when I left St. Louis, but,
like most persons in a controversy, wished to carry my point.
General Sherman long since retrieved his failure at Chickasaw Bayou.
Throughout the war he was honored with the confidence and friendship
of General Grant. The career of these officers was not marked by the
jealousies that are too frequent in military life. The hero of the
campaign from Chattanooga to Raleigh is destined to be known in
history. In those successful marches, and in the victories won by his
tireless and never vanquished army, he has gained a reputation that
may well be enduring.
Soon after my return from Young's Point, General Grant crossed the
Mississippi at Grand Gulf, and made his daring and successful movement
to attain the rear of Vicksburg. Starting with a force less than
the one his opponent could bring against him, he cut loose from his
communications and succeeded in severing the enemy's line of supplies.
From Grand Gulf to Jackson, and from Jackson to the rear of Vicksburg,
was a series of brilliant marches and brilliant victories. Once seated
where he had his antagonist's army inclosed, General Grant opened his
lines to the Yazoo, supplied himself with every thing desired, and
pressed the siege at his leisure. With the fall of Vicksburg, and the
fall, a few days later, of Port Hudson, "the Father of Waters went
unvexed to the Sea."
While the army was crossing the Mississippi at Grand Gulf, three
well-known journalists, Albert D. Richardson and Junius H. Browne, of
_The Tribune_, and Richard T. Colburn, of _The World_, attempted to
run past the Rebel batteries at Vicksburg, on board a tug at midnight.
The tug was blown up and destroyed; the journalists were captured and
taken to the Rebel prison at Vicksburg. Thence they were removed to
Richmond, occupying, while _en route_, the prisons of a half-dozen
Rebel cities. Mr. Colburn was soon released, but the companions of his
adventure were destined to pass nearly two years in the prisons of
the Confederacy. By a fortunate escape and a midwinter march of nearly
four hundred miles, they reached our lines in safety. In books and in
lecture-rooms, they have since told the story of their captivity and
flight.
I have sometimes thought my little quarrel with General Sherman proved
"a blessing in disguise," in saving me from a similar experience of
twenty months in Rebel prisons.