Messrs. Underwood
and Seeley of the Chicago Board of Trade and Y. M. C. A., arrived from Chicago
today. Visited the rifle pits with them. Battery A, Chicago Light Artillery,
did some firing for them, throwing shells with great precision at the rebel
works. A poor mule was killed at the distance of a mile by a shell.
SOURCE: Joseph
Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph
Stockton, p. 17
The siege is
progressing slowly but surely. We are making gradual approaches and are now
within one hundred feet of the enemy's works. The work is done by the men
rolling in front of them a large gabion filled with earth so as to keep the
rebel sharp-shooters from picking them off. They then dig a trench throwing the
dirt up on both sides; at times men are killed; one of our men, a sergeant in
Co. B, has just been brought in killed in the advance rifle pit. He was shot
through the head and killed instantly. Such an occurrence makes the men careful
but they soon grow careless again. The Rebs are throwing shells into our camp,
pieces fall in close proximity to our quarters. Their sharp-shooters are
constantly on the watch for a chance to pick us off. I was riding along the
other day to see the works on our left and stopped for a moment, when a bullet
struck at the feet of my horse's front legs and in a second more two or three
others in close proximity. I changed my position. No one can form any idea of
the extent of their works, reaching a distance of eighteen miles, completely
encircling Vicksburg. Quite a number of our wounded men have died since they
have left to go North. The severity of the wounds is proven by the fact that
there were over fifty amputations of arms and legs in our brigade alone.
SOURCE: Joseph
Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph
Stockton, p. 18
Having had some
business with the Colonel of the 12th Wisconsin which is stationed on our
extreme right in Sherman's corps, and as near the river as we can get, he
advised me to go over to where the gun boat Cincinnati was sunk in the
Mississippi and from where you could get a splendid view of Vicksburg. He
offered me his field glass and off I started. There was considerable danger in
going as you have to cross an open plain which exposed you to the fire of the
rebel sharp-shooters if you were on horseback, but if you went on foot the
rifle pits protected you. I went on horseback and was fired at several times
but escaped. I was fully repaid for my trouble and risk and staid over two
hours. The Cincinnati was sunk by the rebel batteries and lies partly submerged
near the shore. I went on board of her and while there a rebel shell struck the
water about ten feet from the boat. Vicksburg was in full view; there laid the
city to gain, and which thousands of lives had been sacrificed, and doubtless
thousands more before we could capture it. I could see General Pemberton's, the
rebel commander's headquarters, their hospitals, the court house and other
public buildings, and had a full sight of their water batteries. I started back
home fully satisfied with my visit, dined with the Colonel and started for camp
at once.
SOURCE: Joseph
Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph
Stockton, p. 18
For some time
General Logan's division of McPherson's corps had been mining under the rebel
Fort Hill, one of the most prominent works and one capable of doing us a good
deal of mischief. It was decided to explode the mine today and if the breach
was sufficient, to go in as far as possible. We were all drawn up in line of
battle to assist Logan or make a diversion in his favor if need be while all
the batteries were to open on the rebel works to keep them engaged. He had 2200
pounds of powder in barrels in the mine but their fort was a strong one being
at least twenty-four feet thick, of clay and sand. About four o'clock the mine
was fired and was in a measure a success. There was no noise but an immense
cloud of dirt, interspersed with bodies of men, thrown high in the air. At the
same time firing from batteries and rifle pits was tremendous. Our men—the 45th
Illinois—rushed into the breach which was made, but a partition of earth some
three or four feet thick was blown up, over which our men fought all afternoon
and night. Numbers were killed and wounded on both sides, but they held their
ground. At night our regiment was ordered out to the advance works in our
front, and which was not more than 40 feet from their works, where we remained
all night and had two men seriously wounded by their hand grenades. To rest was
impossible, as shells from our own and rebel batteries passed over our heads
every few minutes; sometimes the shells would explode prematurely and the
pieces fly among us; our escape was miraculous. We were in direct range of the
different batteries; for instance: There were batteries planted at four
different corners and we are in the center and the firing at each other, beside
the thousands of minie bullets striking all around us, can give one an idea of
how we were situated. We (Ransom Brigade) are also mining a fort in our front
and will soon have it done. We are some 30 feet under ground now.
SOURCE: Joseph
Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph
Stockton, pp. 18-9
Bill Boggs and
myself secured a pass this morning early and started down to the canal. We
followed the river bank until we were about one mile and half from the ditch,
when we saw that we were upon a bayou that ran back up the river about two
miles. We had to turn back, feeling pretty badly sold as it made us four miles
extra walk. Young poplars were so thick that we could not see where we were for
a while. The levee is broken in two places. Our division (6th McArthur) is
repairing the upper one, and the lower division the lower one. The water is
running through here badly. They are planting artillery behind the levee all
along between camp and the ditch. The levee forms a substantial breastwork. One
mile this side of the ditch we came, for the first time, within full view of
Vicksburg. The town lies upon the west side of a sloping bluff. One large
church and the court house and one earthworks could be distinguished quite
plainly. The town did not look more than two or three miles distant, but
it is not less than eight. An officer was looking through a glass, he could see
transports at the wharf, and a crowd collected around someone who was taking
observations. As we passed the mouth of the Yazoo we could look up and see
three or four gunboats and as many rams, while on this side lay the
"Chillicothe" and three rams. As I was going down I was hailed by two
cavalry men who had just passed me. On looking up, whom should I see but Oll
and Dave Hubler, formerly of Co. E, 12th Ind. They belong to Co. C, 4th Ind.
cavalry. They told me that Geo. Hissung is down here. They are body guard to
Gen. Smith. Pat Gallegher and Bill Humphrey, our old first lieutenant and
orderly, are here. Nearby is the far famed ditch. About noon we sat down on its
banks and took a good rest. The boys encamped there say the water has risen one
foot today. It is now five feet deep and has a rapid current. It averages over
twenty feet wide upon the surface. The Mississippi is rising rapidly. I went
down to the lower end of the ditch, it is one mile and one-eighth in length.
There are heavy details at work throwing up a levee on the west side of it. We
have thirty two-pound parrots blockading the river. They are posted behind the
levee here. When we arrived Gen. McClernand was taking observations. The Rebels
are throwing up heavy works below the mouth of the ditch upon the opposite
side. It is about three miles distant. We could see them moving around, coming
up and going away. We lay there about two hours and watched them. We could see
two heavy earthworks, or forts, and one line of rifle pits. We went from here up
to the head of the ditch. It starts in an eddy and there was a tug, "The
Ivy," lying in front to keep out the driftwood. It is hard to tell if the
thing will prove advantageous. Large details at work, showing that the generals
still have faith in it. We understand that they have sent for a dredge. There
are encampments all the way between our division and the ditch. Gen. Steele's
division is below the mouth of it. We came back to camp a little after dark,
tired and hungry, having traveled during the day about twenty miles, but were
amply repaid. McClernand is a homely man, apparently about forty-five years of
age, with black whiskers and a Roman nose. I saw a fine looking general, said
to be Gen. Steele.
SOURCE: Seth James
Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells,
Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p.
32-4
The different corps
had only taken such positions yesterday as they could in the dark, but today
troops were constantly being brought forward and assigned positions as best
they could. Our regiment was still in the front. Skirmishing commenced early in
the morning. Company E advancing. I had charge of the skirmishers. They drove
the rebel pickets in and took an advanced position. They were not strong
enough, and I went back to the regiment and brought forward Company K, Captain
Reid. They were advancing over a hill, when Captain Reid was shot through the
wrist. He was taken to the rear and had his arm amputated that day. He was a
brave man and a surveyor by profession, and should he survive would miss his
arm and hand terribly. Two companies from Logan's Division relieved us and we
rejoined the regiment. General Ransom ordered me to reconnoiter and see if I
could not find a way to join the brigade to Sherman's left without cutting
through the cane brakes, which were as thick as they could grow. I never had
such work in all my life, climbing up and down ravines, my horse at one time
getting so tangled that I was afraid I would have to leave him—through cane,
over and under fallen trees, guided by the sound of artillery, until I found
the artillery, which to my agreeable surprise was Batteries A and B, Chicago
Light Artillery. I stayed but a few moments and hastened to report to General
Ransom. Bullets were flying thick, but I fortunately escaped being hit. I had
found a good road and led the brigade to the position assigned us; got into
position at once and ordered to charge at two p. m. Started forward up a steep
hill and across an open field, when the Rebs opened on us, killing and wounding
twenty of the regiment in five minutes—one shell took a file clean out of
Company D, killing every man. We could not reply as they were behind
entrenchments. We sought shelter in a ravine, leaving our dead on the field
until night. At night we had a burial party, buried them, and a hundred men
were detailed to throw up rifle pits along the brow of the hill we had crossed.
All worked silently; the Rebs would oссаsionally open on us with artillery and
musketry, but no harm was done.
SOURCE: Joseph
Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph
Stockton, p. 15
Reached the
"City of the Falls" in the night. Left the boat about six this
morning, took a hasty breakfast at the “National,” then a hack for the depot,
calling at the office of Provost Marshal to secure passes on train to
Nashville. Am pleasantly impressed with Louisville. A pretty green plot in
front of private residences, even if quite small, with linden, ailanthus and
magnolia trees, are peculiarities of the city. It is too early for the foliage
of the trees to be seen, but the deep green, thick grass and the blossoms of
the daffodil are in striking contrast to the snow I saw in the latitude of
Chicago and Buffalo only day before yesterday.
The cars are now so
crowded with soldiers en route for "the front," that it is quite
difficult for citizens to find passage. Some have to wait several days before
they can find an opportunity. Only one car is appropriated for this use, and
ladies with their escort always have the preference. Thus gentlemen who are
alone are liable to be left, As we were leaving the "National" this
morning a gentleman rushed out and inquired if we were going to take the
Southern train, and if there was only one gentleman to the two ladies. He
"begged pardon—knew he was a stranger—wished to go to Bowling Green his
wife was sick and he had written her he would be home to-day. If the ladies
would be so kind as to pass him along, and if the gentleman would step with him
into the office he could convince him, through the keeper of the
"National," that he was a man of honor,” Mr. R. referred the matter
to the ladies. They decided to take under their protecting wing the lone
gentleman and see him safe home if the interview with the landlord, with whom
Mr. R. was fortunately acquainted, should prove satisfactory. It was so, and
Mr. Moseby—not the guerilla as himself informed us—entered the hack. He had
"taken the oath of allegiance," he said, and "lived up to it,
but had a right to his own thoughts."
Upon arriving at the
depot found the ladies' car locked, and we were left standing by it while the
two gentleman looked after the baggage. Mr. R. was not to accompany us farther.
Soon an elderly, pale-looking man, with a white neck-tie, came up, who asked if
we each had a gentleman travelling with us. We hesitated and evaded the
question. This was being in too great demand altogether. It was not even
included in Mr. R.'s list of our duties. He "was really hoping we had not,
and that one of us would take pity on an old man and pass him along."
His fatherly look
and manner banished selfishness, and he was told to wait until the gentlemen
returned, and we would see about it. As they did so Mr. Moseby stepped up and
cordially shook hands with the old man, calling him “Judge." But all
Southerners are styled judges, captains, colonels or generals, thought I, and
this one is an honest old farmer nevertheless. As Mr. M. assured us that he was
"all right," and a "man of honor," I told him he might
occupy half of my seat in the car. But it was not long before I found that my
poor old farmer was no less a personage than Judge Joseph R. Underwood, one of
the most noted men and pioneers of Kentucky. He has been Judge of the Supreme
Court of that State six years, a United States Representative for ten years and
a Senator for six.
A spruce little
Captain came through to examine military passes before the cars started. Quite
a number of citizens were left as usual, and as we were moving off I heard one
young man exclaim in desperation that he would "go right back to the city
and marry." The gentlemen congratulated themselves upon their good fortune,
and the subject elicited the following incidents:
A gentleman of Mr.
M.'s acquaintance could get no admission to the cars, no lady would take him
under her care, and he asked the baggage agent if he might get in the baggage
car. That functionary said he had orders to admit no one. "Then you'll not
give me permission, but if I get in will you put me out?"
No answer was made,
but the agent walked away, and the man, thinking like children, that
"silence gives consent," entered the baggage car and remained.
Another gentleman, a
merchant of Bowling Green, by name F—— C——, could get no chance to ride. But
fortunately having on a blue coat, in desperation he stepped up to a man with
the two bars on his shoulder who was putting his soldiers aboard, and said with
a pleading look and tone:
"Captain, can't
you lengthen out my furlough just two days longer?"
"No," said
the Captain, in a quick authoritative tone, "you've been loafing 'round
these streets long enough, in with you," and he made a motion as if he
would materially assist his entrance if he didn't hurry.
“Well, if I must I
must, but its hard, Captain."
"No more
words," was the short reply, "in with you.” Another was related by an
eye witness. A lady who was travelling alone was about stepping into the car,
when a gentleman, who was trembling with anxiety lest he should be left,
stepped up and offered to take her box. He did so, and stepping in behind was
allowed a seat by her side, cautiously retaining the box. He had two comrades
equally desirous of securing a passage, who had seen his success. One of them
stepped to the car window and whispered him to pass out the box. It was slyly
done, and the gentleman marched solemnly in with the weighty responsibility.
The box went through the window again, and again walked in at the door, until
it must have been thoroughly "taken in" as well as the guard.
Just out of the city
we passed a camp and saw soldiers lying under the little low "dog
tents" as they are called, and in the deep,
clay mud, while only a few rods distant was a plenty of green sward. Any
officer who would compel his men to pitch tents where those were ought to be
levelled to the ranks.
I saw for the first
time to-day, fortifications, stockades, riflepits, and mounted cannon at the
bridges. We passed over the battle-ground of Mumfordsville, and saw the burnt
fences and the levelled trees which were to obstruct the march of our troops,
and the building which was used by them as a hospital. In the deep cut passes
one sees suddenly the picturesque figure of a negro soldier, far above upon the
heights, who with shining uniform and glittering bayonet stands like a statue,
guarding the portals of liberty. At the fortifications are sign-boards upon
which are printed in large letters, "Please a drop a paper," while perhaps
half a dozen hands point to it as the train whirls past. Some papers were
thrown out. There were other things which had for our Northern eyes the charm
of novelty. A half respectable or squalid farm-house, with a huge chimney upon
the outside, and with a huddle of negro quarters. Also negro women with turbans
upon their heads, working out of doors, and driving teams—in one case on a load
of tobacco, while driving a yoke of oxen. The total absence of country
school-houses, and the squalid and shiftless appearance of the buildings and
people at the depots, are in striking contrast to the neat little towns of the
Northern and Eastern States. The scenery is fine, much of the soil good, and
the water-power extensive. Nature has dealt bountifully with Tennessee and
Kentucky, but the accursed system of slavery has blasted and desolated the
land, and both races, black and white, are reaping the mildewed harvest.
I find my honorable
companion very entertaining and instructive. I am indebted to him for many
items of interest, both concerning the early settlers, and also the modern
history of the places we pass. His personal history is full of interest, and is
one more proof that early poverty is not necessarily a barrier to honor and
position. The Judge was given away by his parents to an uncle, who educated
him, gave him five dollars and told him he must then make his own way in the
world. Another uncle lent him a horse, and he set out to seek his fortune as
lawyer and politician. He has in trust the fortune of an eccentric old
bachelor, which is known in Warren County as the Craddock fund. Three-fourths
of this is used to educate charity children, while the other fourth pays the
Judge for his care of the fund. His friend Captain C., while upon his
death-bed, sent for the drummer and fifer to play tunes in the yard, and from
those selected such as he wished played at his funeral. He was buried with military
honors.
“Muldroughs-Hill"
which we saw, is a long ridge extending about one hundred miles from the mouth
of Salt-River to the head of Rolling-Fork. It was named from an early settler
who lived twenty miles from the others, and was farthest west. Rolling-Fork is
a tributary of Salt-River. The origin of the term "going up
Salt-River" originated at a little place we passed, now called
Shepherdsville. It has only four or five hundred inhabitants. But in its early
days its salt licks supplied all the Western country with salt, and was a
growing aspirant for popularity, as it invited so much trade. It was a rival of
Louisville, but unlike that, made no provision for its future well-being, but
depended on its present worth alone. "Thus," moralized the Judge, “do we often see two young
men start out with equal advantages, and find afterward that one became a
Shepherdsville, and the other a Louisville." Now there is a bridge at
Shepherdsville guarded by cannon, then there was no bridge and ferry-boats were
used. It was not a smooth stream, and to cross, one must row up the river some
one hundred rods before heading the boat to the opposite shore. Owing to the
rapidity of the current, it was hard rowing, and great strength was needed.
There were those engaged in the making of salt who were called kettle-tenders,
and who for the most part were a low, rough set, being often intoxicated and
quarrelsome. Two of these having a fight, the victor finished with the
triumphant exclamation of There, I've rowed you up Salt River!"
Lincoln's
birth-place is near this, in the adjoining County of Larue—although this was
not the name at the time of his birth. And how little did the mother of Lincoln
think, as she taught him the little she knew of books, that the people in the
vicinity would ever have cause to exclaim of him, in relation to his rival for
the Presidency, as they do of the successful politician—" he has rowed him
up Salt River !"
There is a little
river called "Nolin," which waters his birth-place. It was so named
from the fact that in the early settlement upon its banks a man named Linn was
lost in the woods, and never found. He was probably killed by the Indians. But
the neighbors searched for several days, and at night met at a place upon its
banks, calling to each other as they came in, "No Linn"—" No
Linn, yet."
The Judge has
carried lead in his body for over fifty years, received in the war of 1812. He
was in the battle on the Maumee river called Dudley's defeat. The regiment,
under Dudley, had crossed the river to take cannon of the enemy, which they
succeeded in doing, but instead of returning they pursued them two or three
miles, leaving a few behind to protect the captures. But a detachment of the
enemy passed around in their rear, retook the cannon, and when the regiment
returned, their retreat was cut off, and all were taken prisoners and obliged
to run the gauntlet. About forty were killed in running the gauntlet. The Judge
saw that the line of men which had formed at a little distance from, and
parallel with the river, had a bend in it, and that if he ran close to the guns
they would not dare fire for fear of hitting their own men. The Indians were
armed with guns, tomahawks, and war clubs. In that day the gun was accompanied
with what was called the "wiping-stick," which was a rod made of hickory
notched, and wound with tow, and used to clean the gun. He escaped by receiving
a whipping with some of those sticks. It was the last gauntlet ever run in the
United States. During the trip I had quite a spirited but good-natured
discussion upon the condition of the country, with Mr. M., who I found is
really a strong rebel sympathizer. He worships Morgan since his late raid into
Ohio, and secretly cherishes his picture in his vest pocket. Just before
reaching Bowling Green, where we were to separate, the fatherly old Judge took
a hand of each in his own, and with moisture in his eyes and a tremor in his
voice, said:
"My children,
you represent the two antagonistic positions of the country, and like those, do
not rightly understand each other, on account of sectional prejudices. And now
let an old man who has watched the growth of both sections, who has, as he
trusts, fought for their good in the field, the desk, and senate, join your
hands in the grasp of good fellowship, and oh, how sincerely I wish that I
could bring also together the North and South in one lasting peace!"
Soon after, he
pointed out his residence—the cars stopped, and we parted with our pleasant
friends.
Reached the
"City of the Rocks" about five, this P. M. Shall wait to see more of
it, before making note of impressions.
SOURCE: Elvira J.
Powers, Hospital Pencillings: Being a
Diary While in Jefferson General Hospital, Jeffersonville, Ind., and Others at
Nashville, Tennessee, as Matron and Visitor, p. 5-12
Once more we are on
the wing. Yesterday morning we were ordered to be ready to march when called
on. Of course, the men do not expect to stay anywhere, but it always comes a
little tough to leave a pleasant camp just as they get comfortably settled. But
military orders are inexorable, and, in spite of regrets, we "struck
tents, slung knapsacks," and started on our winding way among the hills.
This part of the country is made up of ranges of high hills separated by
ravines down which the water has cut channels from ten to twenty feet deep. We
marched about three miles on the road leading to Vicksburg and halted on the
top of a high hill just large enough to hold our regiment. It was plowed last
spring and planted to cotton. Colonel Luce looked indignant, the company
officers grumbled, the men swore. General Welch regretted, but Major General
Parks ordered the left to rest here, and it rested. But Colonel Luce could
still do something. Ordering us in line, he said: "Men, you need not pitch
your tents in line in this open field; go where you can make yourselves most
comfortable, only be on hand when the bugle sounds." Three cheers and a
tiger for Colonel Luce. then a wild break for trees, brush; anything to shelter
us from the fierce rays of a Southern sun. We are now nine miles from Vicksburg
by the road, six miles in a direct line. We can distinctly hear musketry at
that place, which has been kept up almost incessantly the last three days. At
intervals the cannonading is terrific. Our Orderly Sergeant rode over there
yesterday, to see his brother. He says Grant's rifle pits are not more than
twenty-five rods from the Rebels, and woe to the man on either side who exposes
himself to the marksmanship of the other. As near as I can learn, matters
remain about as they were three weeks ago. Unless General Grant succeeds in
mining some of their works, thus affecting an entrance, he will be compelled to
starve them out.
We would think, in
Michigan, such land as this utterly unfit for cultivation. But the highest
hills are cultivated and planted with corn or cotton. Corn, even on the highest
hills, I have never seen excelled in growth of stalk. One would naturally
suppose that in this hilly country water of good quality would abound. Such is
not the fact. Soon as we broke ranks I started out in quest of water. I
followed a ravine about half a mile, then crossed over to another, but found
none. Blackberries being plentiful, I filled my cap and returned to camp. Some
of the boys had been more successful, and after resting a few minutes I took
another direction, for water we must have. This time I followed a ridge about
half a mile, then began to descend—down, down, I went, seemingly into the very
bowels of the earth, and when I reached the bottom found a stagnant pool of
warm, muddy water. Making a virtue of necessity, I filled my canteen, returned
to camp, made some coffee, ate my berries, with a very little hardtack, and
went to bed to dream of "limpid streams and babbling brooks."
This morning my
comrade and I arose with the early dawn and started out in search of berries,
which we found in great abundance.
A strange stillness
pervades our hitherto noisy and tumultous camp. The men are scattered in every
direction, lounging listlessly in the shade, not caring even to play cards, so
oppressive is the heat. I am sitting in the shade of a mulberry tree, Collier
lying on the ground near by; we alternately write or lounge as the mood takes
us. Most assuredly I never felt the heat in Michigan as I feel it here. Yet men
can work in this climate, and northern men, too. The Eighth and Twentieth have
been throwing up fortifications for several days.
SOURCE: David Lane,
A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 56-8
To-day the whole army is throwing up breastworks. The sharpshooters are out in front, my corps out to-day. We made ourselves small pits to lay in as a protection from the Yankee bullets. These pits are just about large enough to hold two or three men. Pinkney King, Sam Wilson and myself are in one. We are shooting at the enemy all day. They are returning the compliment. Late this evening we saw some of them opposite our pits, trying to get into a house. We jumped out of our pits and fired at them several times, when poor King was shot and died in a few minutes. Another man was sent to relieve in his place, and we held our position.. The other corps of sharpshooters fought all day.
SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 53
March 28, Evening.
Not yet off. Have worked enough for one day in getting our sick and wounded on the John Adams. Another steamer has arrived with additional instructions. It seems that each regiment is to return to its former camp. I suppose that this means that we are to protect the Islands while the advance is made on Charleston, if it means anything. The John Adams found the Gen. Meigs a long way up the river. They returned at noon with twelve rebel prisoners, who were caught while asleep at their station. The Lieutenant in command was permitted to say good-bye to his wife, and made his escape through the sobs and crinoline of his female friends. Colonel Montgomery admits a weak spot in his military nature. He could have shot the Lieut. while escaping, but would not do so in the presence of his wife.
Our men made a landing at Palatka and were fired into by the rebs. Lieut. Col. Billings received a ball through the fleshy margin of each hand while attempting to get off the steamer. Brave old John Quincy received one through the leg, a little above the ankle, fracturing the small bone and carrying away some of it. I shall not amputate. It seemed peculiarly trying for the old man. He had begged the privilege of going up for his wife and received a shot instead. I don't see quite how he will harmonize this double affliction with the theory he so often preaches to the men, that when one trusts in God and is not a coward, he will be protected against the bullets of his enemies. . . .
Tonight the Major and Capt. with twenty picked men, go up the river with muffled oars, to try to capture another lot of pickets. I fear they will not be successful. . . Thomas Long returned safely day before yesterday. He examined camp Finnegan, eight miles out, and went to the trestle four miles beyond, but finding it closely watched by pickets he did not attempt to burn it. I look at that man with a deep feeling of reverence.
My "Rebel" and I went, this afternoon, round the circuit of the pickets, forts, rifle pits and stockades for the last time. The pickets were playing euchre and fishing in the creek and enjoying themselves as only pickets can. I thought how much less the rebels troubled them than me. The truth is, the order to evacuate this town depresses me. I hate weak vacillation and this seems too much like the unsettled policy that all along has crippled the energy of our forces.
My regiment was formed
west of the Wilkinson pike, with the Eighth Minnesota on my right and the One
hundred and seventy-fourth Ohio on my left. I advanced my command on the
double-quick about 300 yards, driving the enemy's skirmishers in confusion, and
capturing three prisoners. I halted my command for a few moments to form and
send forward my skirmishers, encountering the enemy in heavy force in my front.
I reported the same to General Milroy. I was immediately ordered to advance
through the cornfield. I drove the enemy from the edge of the woods. I halted
to form, and found the enemy in my front: occupying a hastily constructed
rifle-pit. I charged these works and captured them, killing Colonel Weaver and
capturing 2 commissioned officers and 33 men. I formed my command immediately,
executing in a northwesterly direction with the intention of capturing a
section of artillery that was to my right and rear. The enemy, seeing this
movement, commenced falling back as I advanced. My men shot the artillery
horses and captured two guns. The enemy's loss in my front will not exceed 25
or 30 killed and wounded.
The following are the number of killed, wounded, and missing in my command: I commissioned officer wounded, 1 enlisted man killed and 33 wounded; aggregate, 35; number of men engaged, 540.
SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 627
HERRON'S, June 23,
1863—2 a.m.
Have just taken
another rifle-pit and 13 prisoners in moving up my right line of skirmishers.
Will be ready for your final orders to move. I believe I can go into the
enemy's works from this position to-morrow night.
SOURCE: The
War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and
Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 2 (Serial No. 37), p. 317
HERRON'S
HEADQUARTERS, June 24, 1863.
Nothing of special
importance has occurred on my front since yesterday. I am still working up my
sharpshooters, having them within 150 yards on the left. This morning my right
was advanced to within 400 yards of the heavy works. We are constructing deep
rifle pits at every advance, to make the positions perfectly safe. To-night I
will finish a heavy battery within 400 yards of the works.
McPherson secured
the crater made by the explosion. The cavity made was sufficiently large to
shelter two regiments. The enemy made an effort to drive our troops away. Our
loss about 30 killed and wounded, some ten of them officers, and 3 field
officers. Guns will be in the crater by morning, with rifle-pits to the left to
defend it. If we can hold the position until morning it will evidently give us
possession of a long line of rifle-pits to the right, and a fair way of
advancing to enfilade to the left.
The mine on Logan's
front is ready, and the enemy appear to be digging in toward it. Shall I
explode it? And what disposition do you desire me to make of my troops;
anything more than having the rifle-pits filled with sharpshooters?
JAS. B. McPHERSON.
Information received
from Vicksburg last night confirms your theory of the probable method Pemberton
will take for escaping in the last extremity. One of our Pickets and one of the
enemy by mutual consent laid down their arms, met half way and had a long
conversation. The rebel said that our cannonading killed and wounded a great
many in the rifle pits, otherwise done no great damage. They fully counted upon
an assault as being intended and were prepared for it. Finding that no assault
was made, the feelings of the troops was canvassed to see if they could be got
out to attack the Yankees They not only declined this, but those on the right
and left almost mutinied because their officers would not surrender. They were
only reassured and persuaded to continue on duty by being told that they had
provisions enough on hand to last seven days. In that time they would have 2000
boats finished, and they could make their escape by the river. The rebel said
they were tearing down houses to get the material out of which to build boats.
I will direct Mower (Gen) to keep a strong Picket in the river in front of
Vicksburg at night, to place his battery behind the levees or hold it in some
good position to be used if an attempt should be made to escape in that way. If
possible fix up Material to light and illuminate the river should a large
number of boats attempt to cross. I will direct Gen Mower to call on you, and
consult as to the best plan for defeating this method of escape. You will find
Gen Mower an intelligent and gallant officer, capable of carrying out any plan
that may be adopted
Five miles south of Fredericksburg, May 16, 1865.
Our division and brigade in advance of corps to-day. Made 24 miles by 2 p. m. Fences all gone on the road, but houses all standing. From a bluff three miles back had a beautiful view of about 15 miles of the Rappahannock valley and in all that did not see a fence or a cultivated field, or a specimen of either the kine, sheep, or swine families. This certainly does not largely rank the Sahara. Passed through a melancholy looking line of rifle pits, and mentally thanked Heaven for my poor prospect of ever using the like again. Passed through Bowling Green this a. m., only 11 miles from where Booth was killed.
SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 335
Our regiment went into the rifle-pits again before daylight, at which time the din of musketry and cannonading from both sides had begun, and will cease only when darkness covers the earth.
We are now so close to Fort Hill that a hard tack was tossed into it by one of our boys, and then held up on a bayonet there, to satisfy us of its safe arrival. Some of the boys have become reckless about the rifle-pits, and are frequently hit by rebel bullets. Familiarity breeds a contempt of danger.
Some of the boys wounded at Raymond have got back to us, and are now ready again to do their part. They are, however, more timid than we who have been at the front so long. It is fun to see these new-comers dodge the balls as they zip along. But they, too, will soon become accustomed to flying lead.
Several of the boys have been hit, but not hurt badly, as the balls were pretty nearly spent before reaching them. Those returning from Raymond say they have marked the graves there, but I fear it will not be long before the last vestige of the resting places of our late comrades will be lost.
SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 54
SIR: In compliance with orders, I have the honor to report the operations of the Thirteenth U.S. Colored Infantry during the recent campaign, commencing with the evacuation of the road and ending with its reoccupancy.
At daylight on the morning of the 16th the regiment was under arms ready to move, and about sunrise I received orders from the colonel commanding to move across the Nolensville pike and feel the enemy in our front. I advanced my skirmishers to a piece of woods in our front, but the enemy had retired. I then received orders to move over to the Nolensville pike, where the remainder of the brigade then was, and to form my regiment as a reserve, in rear of the other two regiments of the brigade, and to regulate my movements by them. The brigade then moved to the right and front, and after considerable maneuvering joined the right to the left of the Third Division, Fourth Corps, where the men were ordered to lie down. In this position we were shelled considerably by the enemy without any material damage. At about 2.30 I received notice that we would assault the works in our front, and in a few minutes afterward the order to advance was given. The regiment advanced with the brigade in good order, but before we arrived near the rebel works the troops in our front began to lie down and skulk to the rear, which, of course, was not calculated to give much courage to men who never before had undergone an ordeal by fire. The fire of the enemy was terrific, but nevertheless the men, led by their officers, continued to advance to the very muzzles of the enemy’s guns, but its numbers were too small, and after a protracted struggle they had to fall back, not for the want of courage or discipline, but because it was impossible to drive the enemy from his works by a direct assault. Before falling back all the troops on our right had given way, and it was useless to continue the struggle any longer. The regiment reformed on the ground occupied just previous to the assault by the One hundredth U.S. Colored Infantry, and was ready to again advance, when a staff officer of the colonel commanding ordered me to take my regiment over to the left, where the remainder of the brigade was formed. I moved to the left, as ordered, and joined the brigade, which moved about three miles to the front and encamped for the night, in the meantime the enemy retiring toward Franklin. The regiment went into action on the morning of the 16th, 556 men and 20 commissioned officers, and lost 4 commissioned officers and 55 enlisted men killed, and 4 commissioned officers and 165 enlisted men wounded; total loss, 220.
On the morning of the 17th we marched in pursuit of the enemy and reached Franklin in the evening. The next day the regiment moved with the brigade toward Murfreesborough and arrived there on the 20th; thence to Stevenson and Decatur, where we arrived on the 25th, and drove the enemy out of the place, Companies I and K being the first troops to enter, they being under the immediate command of Captain Park, of Company K. The regiment moved with the brigade down the river in the direction of Courtland and arrived there on the 30th of December, and from thence to La Grange, Ala., on January 1, 1865. January 2 moved back toward Decatur and arrived there on the 5th. On the 7th we embarked on the cars for Nashville. Arriving at Scottsborough we were ordered in pursuit of the rebel General Lyon, who had been on a raiding tour through Kentucky and Tennessee. The regiment marched in pursuit to ——— Landing, and returned thence to Larkinsville, Ala. Nothing of note occurred on this march, except the suffering of the men for the want of shoes and other clothing, which from the length of the campaign were worn out. Many of the officers and men were barefoot, and never did men display more soldierly qualities than on this march; without shoes and a great time without rations, they performed their duty cheerfully and without murmur. The regiment arrived at Nashville on the 15th of January and lay there until the 29th, when I received orders to move and reoccupy our former stations on the Nashville and Northwestern Railroad. The regiment moved by easy marches to its former stations on the road, arriving at this place on the 2d of February, and on the 4th all of the different companies had arrived at the posts assigned them.
Where all did well, it is impossible to particularize, but I cannot close this report without mentioning some of the officers of this regiment. Captains Bensinger, Park, Duncan, Chamberlin, Dougall, and Wallace led their companies up in the most gallant manner. Lieutenants Dickerson, Marble, Ricketts, and Snell behaved with marked gallantry, but all did well, and I do not believe any regiment ever could boast of braver officers. Among the enlisted men there were many that showed great bravery. Sergeants Wilson and Rankin both displayed the greatest gallantry possible in carrying the colors, and sealed their devotion to them with their lives.
Inclosed please find a complete list of killed and wounded.*
All of which is respectfully submitted.
I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
JOHN A. HOTTENSTEIN,
Colonel, Commanding.
_______________
* Embodied in table, p. 103.
SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 45, Part 1 (Serial No. 93), p. 548-9
