Vicksburg is the exciting sequel to Osceola. It chronicles the daily life of a common soldier in the Army of the Tennesse as they march to Vicksburg and on to Atlanta. The descriptions of the battles, characters and events are based on diaries, journals and official reports and adds a realistic touch that makes the reader feel like they were present.

VICKSBURG

By Thomas R. Stubbs

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Thomas R. Stubbs
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-4440-4

Chapter One

It was now somewhere around the middle of April. We had been told last night that in the morning we would be marching off to Vicksburg, but morning came and nothing seemed to happen. It did seem obvious that something was up. On talking to some of the other troops of the 31 Mo. regiment that had been at Milliken's Bend for awhile, they related that General McClernand and his corps and part of General McPherson's troops had already left camp and marched down across the peninsula a few weeks ago. Just where they were headed, none of the troops that I had talked to seemed to know. These troops had been in the garrison at Milliken's Bend for several months and had welcomed our arrival yesterday by celebrating over a few jugs of corn liquor.

They had related last evening all of the abortive attempts they had made so far in attempting to take Vicksburg. The first attempt had been by General Sherman who had tried attacking at Chickasaw Bayou up a steep bluff north of town, in face of impossible odds. There they had attempted to land troops on a narrow triangle of damp ground, bounded on the west and east by a bayou, or flooded swamp, in places over head high and at other places up over the knees. On the western side, it had been bounded by deep sloughs and swampy ground so that the only practical way of marching was down a patch of ground that pointed directly at the bluffs. The bluffs had been extremely steep, so that it was impossible to walk or climb the bluffs and the troops had been reduced to crawling on hands and knees and trying to pull themselves forward with brush and clumps of grass in order to climb the bluffs to get at the troops. This had been a disastrous attempt and as I recall one of the troops had said that Sherman had complained that it would cost them 5,000 casualties to take Vicksburg and they may as well lose them here. Such a cavalier statement hadn't set well with the troops. The attempt had been disastrous, as they knew it would from the start.

Then the other troops had related similar escapades that the military commanders had engaged in, such as digging a canal across the peninsula. De Soto's point, as the peninsula was called, was nothing but mud and swamp and the attempt resulted in failure when heavy rains washed out the dams and flooded the works that the troops had spent months on. Then there was the attempt to blow the Mississippi levees upstream thereby flooding the farmland east of the river and making a giant lake that would allow the Union troops to travel by steamboat south to get in position for an attack on Vicksburg from above. An attempt was also made to dig a canal through the swamps west of the Mississippi to reach Lake Providence from which, it was thought, the army could travel by steamer to reach to reach the Mississippi River and assault Vicksburg from below. Whether we would be off on another expedition to dig passages through the swamps or whether they would come up with some idea for another boat trip on the rivers, no one seemed to know.

That morning we didn't receive any orders and we were uncertain as to what the actual intentions were. Sometime after noon, we received orders to march down to the landing to help in loading Admiral Porter's ships. When we got to the landing, there was an incredible bustle with troops and sailors at work on the steamers and gunboats. The boats had been strangely modified. On the port side of the ships some large bales of cotton had been latched that had been soaked with water. Some ships had strange structures put together out of planks and wood that changed the outlines of the ships in an attempt to disguise the structures on board. We received orders to help with loading and formed lines to pass boxes and crates of ammunition, food and clothing down from the banks and up onto the ships where the sailors took it and stowed it below decks or inside the superstructures on the steamers.

Some of the troops seemed to feel that this indicated that the steamers would be attempting to run the river past the Vicksburg batteries on the bluffs. Barges were similarly protected with bales of water soaked cotton and loaded with supplies to be pulled behind the steamers. We worked feverishly throughout the day, loading the barges and steamers and, after it became dark, the troops were marched back to the barracks.

We had a late meal that evening and gathered around on the levees facing the river to watch for the anticipated passage down the river. We seemed to wait in quiet anticipation for hours. Just when the steamers actually moved away from the wharf, I don't know because they left so quietly that it was impossible to detect the true time of their departure. Not owning a watch, I think it was probably well up towards midnight before we heard cannon fire from across the river. I feared the attempt to run the bluffs without being seen, hadn't gone so well.

Still, it was so dark, I was sure that the confederates on the other side of the river wouldn't be able to hit anything from the heights of the bluff. But, shortly after that, flames sprang up in the east and quickly became almost like a blazing sunup. The whole eastern shoreline seemed to be bathed in bright light. Then flames appeared to spring up from the western bank and also from what we assumed was the center of the river. I was amazed to think that the Confederate fire could have been so accurate. Silence settled over the troops as we watched from the levee. We were quite fearful that all of the steamers and barges had been hit and set on fire and now were burning in midstream or running to ground on the western shore causing this illusion of an early sunrise.

We felt sorry for the sailors on board the steamers and the barges as we were sure that the entire expedition had been shot out of the water or set on fire. There wasn't anything that we could do, however, and being quite late we were finally ordered back to the barracks for the evening. It was a dejected and disheartened army that finally hit the bunks and went to bed for the evening. We believed that another attempt on Vicksburg had ended disastrously like all the previous ones over the last several months.

Getting to sleep that evening was difficult. As I lay there, attempting to drift off, I thought about all that had transpired to me over the last year and a half. It was hard to believe that so much had happened in that time. It was in October of `61 that I had lost my family in the massacre at Osceola. After that, I joined the Union Army and had gone through training and been deployed just in time for the Battle of Shiloh. We had been on our way to Corinth when we had been attacked at Shiloh by a rebel army that we had no idea was in the vicinity. After the battle, we had spent several weeks reorganizing and had spent another month marching the 30 miles to Corinth which had been our original objective. There, we spent the next six months battling mosquitoes, chiggers and bad water. It seemed like once we had got to Corinth, no one knew what to do next. Eventually the rebels had found us in Corinth and decided that they really didn't want us there and had tried to force us out. We had endured the two day battle at Corinth and soundly defeated the rebels but neglected to make any meaningful pursuit.

Disappointed and dejected, we had spent another few weeks in Corinth before being marched back up the way we came and had, in the end, disembarked from Shiloh Landing and gone back to St. Louis to refit and recruit to replace the troops that had been lost from the 21st Mo. Regiment. We had then been transferred from the 21st Missouri to the 31st Missouri Regiment and had trained the new recruits before being embarked to come here to Milliken's Bend in preparation for the assault on Vicksburg. But it looked like the assault on Vicksburg wasn't going so well. I lay restlessly wondering how long we would be stuck in Milliken's Bend before the brass decided what to do next.

It seemed I had no sooner fallen asleep, than I was awakened by the bugle and roused out of bed. After dressing, we assembled in the muddy parade ground for roll call and breakfast. I was surprised by the exuberant nature of the troops as they gathered on the parade ground. I thought that the fleet that had attempted to run the bluffs on the river had been utterly destroyed, but surprisingly, except for the loss of one steamer and a couple of barges, it had been entirely successful. How they could have received word of the success of the expedition so quickly surprised me. But the troops seemed to feel that this boded good for the army and that we would be soon on our way marching with all the rest of the troops across the peninsula to wherever they had gone south along the Mississippi.

After breakfast, we returned to the barracks and I went through my gear again. I removed the two Remington revolvers that had once belonged to my father and older brother. The revolvers, along with the Henry repeating rifle that I had given to Sergeant Shawnasee, were all that I had salvaged from the smoldering ruins of our homestead on the banks of the Osage River. I considered loading the Remington's but decided not to. It wasn't a good idea to leave the guns loaded for an extended period of time because the powder could become damp or the beeswax blocking the cylinders could become dislodged if left unattended. Just because we anticipated marching out directly didn't mean that we would actually be seeing any combat, so I decided not to load my weapons.

Nothing much seemed to happen for the rest of the day and we merely wandered around through the camp at Milliken's Bend, talking and speculating on what would happen next. Nothing much did that day, nor did anything much seem to happen for the next several days. It was nearly two weeks later before we received any meaningful news. Then we were instructed to pack our gear and be ready to move out in the morning. Once again, I considered loading the Remington's but decided not to. The anticipation of action was almost overpowering but, until we had more conclusive evidence that it was imminent, there was no sense getting further prepared.

The following morning after the bugles roused us up for roll call and breakfast, we returned to the barracks and loaded up our gear and marched off down to the landing. At last, it seemed that something was really going to happen. A number of steamers had been assembled and we were marched down to the water and up the gangplanks. We assembled on deck or in the salons and, after our regiment and several others were on board the steamers, set off down the Mississippi. I was rather apprehensive that they would be attempting to run the river with steamers loaded with troops in broad daylight. Maybe they had only lost one steamer and a couple of barges in their run down the river at midnight, but this was another story entirely.

Yet, down the river we went but, before we came to the big bend, the steamers turned off to the east and went up what the troops told me was the Yazoo. We went for a few miles up the Yazoo and then the steamers slowed, pulled into the banks and disembarked the troops. Some of the troops that had been there before were shocked and apprehensive. They thought that we were going to attempt to storm the Chickasaw bluffs as they had back in December just around Christmas.

I have to admit I was dreading this. I can't say that I've ever been scared before and I had been in the battles of Shiloh and Corinth, but then I hadn't had time to think about it. At Shiloh, we had marched off not knowing that there were any Confederates in the vicinity and, when we ran head on into the entire Confederate Army, the action had been so intense, confused and, to me, disorganized, that I hadn't had time to think of being afraid. It had simply been load and shoot as fast as you could, retreat, form up, shoot some more and then run like hell. The same had been true at Corinth. We had had no idea that the Confederates were there in force when we had marched out of town. Once again, we had run into a major Confederate force and had to conduct a fighting retreat. This time, it looked like the Confederates knew we were coming and were prepared for us and I was afraid we were about to repeat the disastrous attempt to take the bluffs. Indeed, the troops that had been there the previous December apprehensively pointed out that this was the same identical ground, the same broad triangle of dry land between the bayous and the sloughs that they had marched across so senselessly six months ago.

But, we went marching across the broad base of the triangle and up the river and into the woods on the other side where the generals ordered us back on the steamers that had proceeded upriver after having disembarked us. We sailed back down the river to the west where we disembarked and then marched across again. We did this for the entire morning and most of the afternoon, disembarking and marching across the field, and then re-embarking to the east above the opened triangle of dry ground, and then sailing back down to the west and disembarking again.

By now, most of the troops that had been here previously seemed to feel relieved and actually quite jubilant and we began marching with pride and nonchalance. It seemed that the troops realized that we were only putting on a demonstration for the Confederates on the bluff. Just what the purpose of that was, we were uncertain, but it certainly boded well for us.

That evening, we steamed back down the Yazoo, then up the river to Milliken's Bend and returned to the barracks. We had done a lot of marching, shouting, cheering and bluffing, it appeared. But, now we were back in Milliken's Bend and uncertain as to what the next move would be. It wasn't long in coming.

The next day, after the buglers blew and we had assembled in the parade ground and had breakfast, we were ordered to the barracks to retrieve our gear and be ready to march. It looked likely that we were on our way to join up with McClernand, McPherson and Grant someplace south along the river, but we were disappointed. General Steele and General Tuttle, who were part of Sherman's 15th Corps, left that day on the march to join up with Grant and the rest of the troops, but General Blair's Division of which we were apart were left behind in Milliken's Bend.

We remained there in Milliken's Bend, feeling rather lonesome. The fort had held, I don't know, somewhere between 20,000 and 30,000 troops at one time, and now we were down to a few thousand. We stayed there for several more days until relieved by troops who had come down from Memphis and then we followed the rest of the 15th Corp on the march down through Louisiana. We marched along fairly dry ground at first but soon found ourselves marching though the swamps. Tall oak and cypress trees crowded the levee on both sides and in places the limbs entwined over our heads. Mosquitoes and biting flies swarmed around our heads and as we marched we flailed the vermin off ourselves and the man in front using pine limbs we had torn from trees we passed. As we marched I looked from side to side, studying the country we were passing through. It was springtime in the south and it was enchanting. The smell of honeysuckle permeated the air. Spanish moss and other vines draped the trees; and everywhere I looked it seemed there were trees or shrubs in bloom. If it weren't for the biting insects it would be a nice place to live

We were marching along the levee with an open area of lily pad covered swamp on our left side. There were a number of long legged blue heron and other large birds feeding in the grass 20 or 30 yards away. I was admiring their brilliant plumage and gracefulness as they moved slowly picking their way, when suddenly the water exploded in a shower of mud and vegetation. There was a thunder of beating wings as the birds took off, and as I stared a large ugly creature thrashed the surface of the swamp with a heron in its mouth. It looked like an eight or nine foot long lizard and was covered with horny, thick, leathery looking hide. It whipped its large head from side to side, then tossed it back and swallowed the bird whole. As it opened its mouth once more, as if to belch, I was stunned at the sight of its enormous teeth. I had been skeptical of the tales the troops had told about alligators. But, in truth, I found them even more fearsome looking than I had imagined. It took two days before we were able to wind our way through the bayous but finally we struck the Mississippi at a place called Perkin's Plantation. We had marched somewhere around 50 to 60 miles.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from VICKSBURGby Thomas R. Stubbs Copyright © 2012 by Thomas R. Stubbs. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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