RUNNING THE BLOCKADE AT VICKSBURG.
THE ship canal, and all other plans for getting below Vicksburg with enough boats to transport his troops across the Mississippi River, having failed, General Grant determined to run the blockade. Seven gunboats and three wooden steamers were put in condition to make the perilous trip.
The iron sides of the gunboats were drenched with coal-oil, and the floors were whitewashed, that the gunners might load their guns by the light of the whitewash.
The important working machinery of the wooden steamers was protected by bales of cotton and bales of hay. The smoke-stacks and pilot-houses were taken down; and the pilots must needs stand at their wheels, and the captains on the upper decks, with nothing to shield them from the sharpshooters on the wharves of Vicksburg.
All this preparation was done as secretly as possible.
But the service was a dangerous one, and noone was to be ordered into such unusual and dangerous service. A call was made along the line on dress parade for volunteers. Two thousand brave men stepped to the front, anxious for the perilous service. As only a few were needed, lots had to be drawn to obtain the few from the two thousand; and one young man, who was chosen by lot, was offered one hundred dollars for his place, but he refused it. I am glad to record that he got through safely.
About nine o’clock on the night of April 16, 1863, a dark night, I received a note from Mrs. General Grant, who was with her husband at Milliken’s Bend, informing me that the boats would run the blockade that night, and asking me to come over and go with them to witness it. I accepted the invitation, and accompanied the orderly who had brought the note. It was dark and raining; but very soon we were, in company with General Grant, on our way to the steamer that was to bear us to the point chosen by our fearless leader to witness the running of the blockade.
When we reached the steamer, we found all the leading generals there except General Sherman, who had gone below to receive the fleet. McPherson, Logan, Belknap, Rawlins, Dodge, and all the others whose names have been made immortal in connection with the siege of Vicksburg, were there. The boat at once steamed down toYoung’s Point, from Milliken’s Bend; and about midnight all the lights were extinguished, the fires screened, and the boat dropped down without the splash of a wheel, near the first batteries of Vicksburg. With what intense interest we watched for the coming of the fleet, peering out into the darkness of that black night. At last we saw a gunboat, blacker than that starless night, creeping past us like some great monster of the deep. Then another and another, right down under the guns. They passed the first batteries without being noticed; then the storm broke upon them in all its fury.
Admiral Porter on his flag-ship, theBenton, led the way. TheCarondelet, commanded by Captain Walke, and theTuscumbia, followed.
The three wooden steamers were theForest Queen, theHenry Clay, and theSilver Wave.
The first shot near us seemed to tear the sky to pieces above our heads. There was a flash of light all along the water-line of Vicksburg; great bonfires lighted up the river.
The captain of our boat in his excitement put on steam and started up the river. General Grant, who was with us on the guards, rushed to the hurricane deck, and compelled the captain to drop back to the old position.
Our long line of gunboats were now giving broadside after broadside, keeping well to the Vicksburg side, while the wooden steamers, withtheir heavily ladened scows or barges, ran through as rapidly as possible, keeping well to the Louisiana side.
The great artillery duel was now on, every gun on both sides of the line was belching forth shot or shell.
Our boat swayed with the concussion of sound. It was as though a thousand electric storms had burst upon us in all their fury. And yet each shot and shell had a voice of its own, and could be heard in thunder tones with awful distinctness. And running through the bass and treble of solid shot and screaming shells, the click of the musketry of the sharpshooters on the wharfs of Vicksburg could be heard, as, by the light of the bonfires blazing high, they aimed the deadly bullets at the captains and pilots who stood up unarmed in full view. My friend, Captain McMillen of Pittsburg, Pa., who owned theSilver Wave, and who commanded her on that expedition, stood on her deck in full view, amid the terrible rain of fire and lead.[1]
There were, history informs us, on the average,one hundred and twenty heavy guns a minute. The scene was grand and awful. The bonfires were kept blazing. TheHenry Clayburned to the water’s edge, the tongues of flame leaping abovethe track of shot and shell. Shells were flying in every direction; with their burning fuses they made their circles, dropping down out of the sky like stars of the first magnitude, now and then some bursting in mid-heaven with a million scintillations of light.
All the officers had gone to the upper deck; and Mrs. Grant and I stood together, out on the guards, looking out on the grand and awful scene before us, shivering with agony.
We were neither of us alarmed for our own safety, but were overwhelmed with anxiety for the safety of our brave soldiers, and the success of the expedition.
Mrs. Grant was very sympathetic and kindly hearted, and stood there looking out upon the grand and terrible scenes of war through her tears. She was a most devoted wife and mother, and, like her noble, generous-hearted husband, was most heartily interested for the safety and welfare of the brave men who were fighting the battles of her country.
“Our men are all dead men.” “No one can live in such a rain of fire and lead,” we said to each other. “All our fleet, and the heroic men who manned the boats, are surely swallowed in that fiery channel,” we moaned with the tears on our faces. Only once, it was while theHenry Claywas burning, we saw for a moment or two the grand old Stars and Stripes.
“See! see! there is our flag,” was the glad exclamation; but the next moment it was hid from our sight by the smoke of the guns.
We stood there, amid the thunders of this greatest artillery duel that was ever fought in the world, for two long hours, unconscious of danger or weariness. Then General Grant came down from the upper deck with the glad news, for he had been watching for the signals or rockets that the boats, one by one, sent up as they got safely through, that all the boats were through but theHenry Clay. The roar of the cannon had begun to die away, when our captain, at the command of General Grant, turned the prow of his boat up the Mississippi River, and steamed back to Milliken’s Bend. We reached there at daylight, after the most exciting night I had ever known, or perhaps will ever know again, on the earth.
FOOTNOTE:
[1]He made the journey safely, and continued to command his boat while she was in the United States service, which was till the close of the war. He was one of the few loyal steamboat captains on the Mississippi River. He lived to enjoy a long season of peace, dying in 1893.
[1]He made the journey safely, and continued to command his boat while she was in the United States service, which was till the close of the war. He was one of the few loyal steamboat captains on the Mississippi River. He lived to enjoy a long season of peace, dying in 1893.