WITH the first faint flush of day the morning of the 20th, I was up and taking soundings for the locality of my company headquarters. I was as stiff as an old foundered horse, and my head ached and felt swelled. The battle was still being waged by the advance pickets of the contending forces, but the fearful rumble of yesterday's battle had subsided entirely. Nothing appeared in that early morning, at first, to recall the horrors of yesterday, but as the daylight began to pour in amongst the trees, and the mists of night lifted, some evidences of the fray came into sight. The smoke that filled the heavens during that conflict had rolled together into one great windrow and hung away out on the rim of the horizon. The light breath of wind wafted from over the battlefield, it seemed to me, savored of blood. At the rear of the field hospital a score of legs and arms were stacked up awaiting burial and some blood stained stretchers laid where the tired stretcher bearers had carelessly abandoned them. The faithful surgeons had plied the knife, and worked on, ever since the assault began, and now at the dawn of another day were not nearly done.
Old Sol was splashing his crimson and gold overthe blue of the eastern concave when I finally found my company quarters, and the men were already blazing away at the enemy from the crest of the nearby hill. In the headquarters tent I found three delicious smoked hams, from which I at once carved three or four slices and ate them raw. From the lacerated appearance of those hams it was apparent that other famishing men had dined there before me. Think of making a meal on raw smoked ham and water. I hadn't a mouthful of bread or anything that would take the place of bread, not even slippery elm, to chuck in with that ham. We were hungry when we got to Vicksburg on the 18th, because we had been living on half rations and what we could cramp on the march ever since we left Grand Gulf. I had one last hardtack when I got to Vicksburg that I saved and carried for several days, and it looked like a medallion off a prize cook stove. The luster arising from the sweat and grime on that hardtack was too dazzling for anything. The worms lurking within it came out occasionally and admired their reflections mirrored upon its surface. Men got very hungry on that march to the rear of Vicksburg. It will be remembered that Grant cut loose from his base of supplies when he left Grand Gulf. I heard men say that they partially subsisted by chewing newspaper advertisements of provisions. Such a delicious breakfast as that raw ham I never ate before nor since. I was never more thankful for a meal. I blessed the hog that furnished the ham and the swain who salted and smoked it.
My breakfast dispatched, I joined my company behinda slight breastwork on the crest of the hill, where we blazed away at the rebel stockade with little, if any, intermission all day long. Heavy ordnance was brought into play as well as muskets, and gave and took solid shot and shell to our heart's content. All that day our army was hurrying up additional heavy ordnance onto the besieging line its whole extent, and each new piece, as it came up to its position joined its hoarse bark to the din of all our other war dogs. Such a jolly old racket it was to be sure!
All day long the loopholes in the rebel stockade were spitefully spitting red fire in our faces, which fire we returned with a vengeance. We made a good deal of noise all that day and the next with very little execution, because both the enemy and ourselves were under cover. Some funny things happened in those first days of the investment. When we arrived at the rear of Vicksburg on the afternoon of the 18th a picnic party of about thirty ladies, mostly rebel officers' wives, was intercepted and forbidden to return to the beleaguered city. They plead and threatened, tearfully, scornfully, impertinently, to effect their release, but all to no purpose. They were informed that the city was then besieged, that the lid, as it were, was on, that none could now go in but armed men, and none could come out but prisoners. What could they do but submit? We were 30,000 strong. They were three ciphers less. We outnumbered them by a crushing majority. General Grant ordered them to be quartered in a large furnished double house,which the owners had abandoned upon our coming, and there under a safety guard they drew their U. S. army rations from day to day during the forty-two days of the siege and raised Ned generally. An old discordant piano happened to be in their prison, and they pounded the poor old thing until it would bellow like the bull of Bashon. One day General Grant and an adjutant general rode up in front of the house, and while there upon their horses, one of the ladies, who was promenading backward and forward across the piazza, observing that Grant was smoking a cigar, said to him, "Soldier, give me a cigar." "With pleasure, madam," said the General, handing her a weed. Adjutant General Robbins, understanding that the little lady was wholly unacquainted with the name or rank of the distinguished individual whom she was so flippantly addressing, said: "Madam, allow me to make you acquainted with General Grant, of the United States army." The poor frightened woman turned pale, stared wildly at the General, dropped her cigar, and fled inside the house. As the officers rode away, about thirty noses were flattened against the windows as those beautiful captives peered fearfully out to catch a glance of that terrible General whom the south feared most "of all."
When the Waterhouse battery was throwing an occasional shot or shell against the stockade trying to effect a breach in it, a voice behind the enemy's works would call out at every shot, "A little more to the right," or "A little more to the left," as the case might be, evidently trying to make lightof our shooting. The battery officer thought he pretty nearly located the owner of the voice, and trained his gun for the next shot upon that point. After firing for several seconds nothing was heard, and just as we had about made up our minds the derisive cuss was killed he yelled, "For God's sake cease firing." He had evidently had a close call.
On the night of May 21st we were informed that tomorrow morning we would again assault the works by the engagement of the whole line. It was arranged for the assault to take place at precisely 10 o'clock on the morning of the 22nd. So determined was Grant to have the attack by the various corps simultaneous that he had all of the corps commanders' watches set by his own.
When we were formed in the line of assault and my company, B, 113th Illinois Volunteer infantry, was at rest in place, an officer of Grant's staff came to us with the proposition that any three men who would volunteer to go in the storming party, then forming to be sent in advance against the enemy's works, should have sixty days furlough home. We looked into each others faces for some seconds. We were speechless and felt a dread of what might develop. We knew that as a general thing the man who volunteers and goes into the storming party "leaves all hope behind." It means nearly sure death. Like the Irishman I didn't want to go "and leave my father an orphan." Finally there was a movement. Old Joe Smith, white headed, rough visaged and grizzled by the storms of a half century, stepped to the front and calling back to hisbunkmate said, "Come on, Lish," and Elisha Johns filed out by his side. Then after a brief interval Sergt. James Henry volunteered for the third place. Company B's quota was now complete, and those brave fellows hurried away to take their places in the ranks of the storming party. Some reader of these lines may ask, "Why didn't General Grant detail men for the storming party?" Because, when soldiers enter upon a service that gives them only one chance in a hundred to survive it, the commander doesn't like to bear the responsibility of their deaths, and tenders them the precious privilege of voluntarily dying for their country. We looked upon our three comrades as already dead or wounded men, but strange to relate, although a majority of that gallant band fell in that action, not one of our brave fellows was injured by the missiles of the enemy, and all of them received from General Grant their furlough home as promised.
This storming party, provided with boards and rails to bridge the ditch outside the stockade when they got to it, led the advance or attacking column. And while we stood in line breathlessly awaiting the order to move forward ourselves, I watched that little force of 150 men rush forward towards the battlements of the enemy. How they scurried forward, leaping over the logs and brush lying in their pathway as they pushed on through that leaden and iron hail of death! A scattering few seemed to reach the salient of the bastion and laid down against their works in time to preserve their lives, but as it appeared to me through the cloudsof sulphurous smoke a greater part of the blue forms were scattered along their line of advance stretched upon the earth motionless in death. It had come our turn now to face the lead, and we were ordered to fix bayonets.
WHILE waiting the charge of the storming party and watching their progress across the field to the enemy's works, I noticed a group of general officers close to our left, composed of Grant, Sherman and Giles A. Smith, with their field glasses, watching the little storming party painting a trail of blood across that field. Those distinguished commanders, unlike ourselves, were standing behind large trees, and squinted cautiously out to the right and left, exposing as little of their brass buttons as possible, and I think I saw them dodge a couple of times. I thought of the convincing speech the officer made to his command on the eve of the battle, when he assured them that he might be killed himself, as some balls would go through the biggest trees.
General Ewing's brigade led the assault after the storming party had sped their bolts, and advanced along the crown of an interior ridge which partially sheltered his advance. This command actually entered the parapet of the enemy's works at a shoulder of the bastion, but when the enemy rose up in double ranks and delivered its withering fire his forces were swept back to cover, but the brave and resourceful old Ewing shifted his commandto the left, crossed the ditch, pressed forward, and ere long we saw his men scrambling up the outer face of the bastion and his colors planted near the top of the rebel works.
Our brigade was formed in a ravine threatening the parapet, 300 yards to the left of the bastion, and we had connected with Ransom's brigade. From that formation we fixed bayonets and charged point blank for the rebel works at a double quick. Unfortunately for me I was in the front of the rank and compelled to maintain that position, and a glance at the forest of gleaming bayonets sweeping up from the rear, at a charge, made me realize that it only required a stumble of some lubber just behind me to launch his bayonet into the offside of my anatomy, somewhere in the neighborhood of my anterior suspender buttons. This knowledge so stimulated me that I feared the front far less than the rear, and forged ahead like an antelope, easily changing my double quick to a quadruple gait, and most emphatically making telegraph time. During that run and rush I had frequently to either step upon or jump over the bodies of our dead and wounded, which were scattered along our track. The nearer the enemy we got the more enthusiastic we became, and the more confidence we had in scaling their works, but as we neared their parapet we encountered the reserved fire of the rebels which swept us back to temporary cover of a ridge, two-thirds of the way across the field, from which position we operated the rest of the day. When we got back there we had been fighting and maneuvering for more thanthree hours. Once during the assault I remember the 116th Illinois was on our left. Gen. Giles A. Smith was between me and that regiment; Colonel Tupper, its commander, was making a speech to his men and advising them to take the works or die in the attempt. I thought then, and I have had no reason to change my mind since, that Tupper was gloriously drunk. General Smith snatched off his hat and yelled, "Three cheers for Colonel Tupper." I caught off my cap and together we gave one full grown "Hurrah" and about half another, when the explosion of a monster shell inconveniently near us adjourned the performance sine die. I saw also at another time during the fight, a captain coming back from the front on the run; he had been wounded in the wrist. A man was trying to lead him off the field, but couldn't keep up with the fleet footed captain. He was vainly trying to clutch the wounded man's coat tails as he pursued him, and though under a deadly fire at the time, more than a hundred of us who beheld the race, laughed heartily. When we got behind the ridge we were ordered to lie down, and it felt good to know that we had even a little ridge of solid earth between us and the enemy's bullets. We lay there on our backs and looked back into the throats of the artillery as it shelled the enemy's works over our heads. We could see the balls distinctly as they were discharged from the cannons, and they looked like bumble-bees flying over us, only somewhat larger. While we were thus watching the flight of the balls, one of them struck and cut off the top of a tall saplingstanding between us and the cannon; the ball by that means was depressed, and instead of going over us came directly for us and into our midst. Every one who saw it thought, as I did, that the ball was coming straight at him. I rolled over to avoid it; I heard the dull thud of its striking and a scream of agony, and I stood up and looked. That ball had struck and carried away the life of Morris Bird, a private of Company H, and the only son of a widowed mother. I saw a private of the 4th Virginia, which regiment was sheltered there with us also, rise to his feet to fire his gun, when one of our cannon balls took off his head, and it was a clean decapitation, too. The enemy shelled us incessantly the rest of the day after we gained this position, and it cost us many brave men.
One close call of an exploding shell knocked me senseless and took off the right arm of Louis Cazean, a private of my company. They told me afterwards that poor Cazean, when he lifted up the fragments of his shattered right arm dangling from the white cords and tendons, said, "Boys, I'd give five hundred dollars if that was my left arm instead of my right." When I regained my senses I found Sergeant Whitcomb of my company bathing my head with water and trying to force some commissary whiskey down my throat. He didn't have near as much trouble getting the whiskey down me after I came to and found out what it was. For a long time the rumbling in my head was deafening and painful, but gradually subsided and the concussion left me a whole skin and with no deleterious effects.And the day wore on until night closed in upon us, and then we lay down and slept on our arms accoutered as we were.
Through some bungling, when the other regiments were ordered to retire during the night to the rear of the Walnut hills, my regiment was omitted from the list, and when we received our order to fall back in the morning we had to go out under the fire of the 25,000 enemies. That blunder cost us some brave men; for the rebels availed themselves of the splendid opportunity to fire upon our retiring lines. We had failed to take Vicksburg by assault, notwithstanding the bravery of our men; notwithstanding that many stands of colors were planted on the enemy's works; Sergeant Griffith with eleven men of the 22nd Iowa regiment entered a fort of the enemy, and his men all fell in the fort except the sergeant, who captured and brought off thirteen confederate prisoners, and Captain White of the Chicago Mercantile battery immortalized himself by carrying forward one of his guns by hand to the ditch, and double shotting it, fired into an embrasure of the work, disabling an enemy's gun in it and cutting down the gunners.
The rebels had more than 25,000 men behind their works, and why they didn't kill every soul of us I cannot imagine. How glad we were to get back of the Walnut hills on the 23rd, and to go into camp with the assurance that no more assaulting efforts would probably be required of us. When we sat around the campfire down in the ravine that night we compared notes of experiences during thatbloody battle and talked about our dead and wounded comrades. Old Joe Smith, who was one of the storming party volunteers, said, "Boys, I had sweet revenge on the brutes yesterday. I got right into the crotch of a fallen tree close to their works, so that I was protected in front and on both flanks, and I laid my gun across the log so that I had constant aim on their works, and when one of them fellers got up to shoot I would see his gun barrel come up first, and I would have a dead liner on him when his head popped up and I could salt him every time, pretty near." "But," said Joe, "there was one feller kept gitting up right opposite me and his face was so dumbed thin I couldn't hit 'im." After supper we were detailed to dig rifle pits, and had talks with rebels across the bloody chasm.
WE failed to take Vicksburg by assault. We not only failed to take it, but we failed to break their lines of defense and make permanent lodgment anywhere along our front, General McClernand to the contrary notwithstanding. For ten hours that day we fought the entrenched enemy and had not won the battle. Our forces had charged the parapets and bastioned forts valorously but death was the sole reward of their great valor. We lost 3,000 men while the sheltered confederates, within their formidable works lost only 1,000. I desire to add that Admiral Porter co-operated in the assault, and shelled the water batteries and town from his mortar boats stationed in the river, and from his gun boats. So fierce was his attack on the water batteries, which were engaged at 440 yards, and so great was the noise of his gun and so dense the smoke that Porter heard and saw nothing of our land operations.
We were quartered along one of the Walnut hillsides after the assault of the 22nd, and we went industriously to work fitting up our huts and bowers in the best sheltered and most available spots along the hill slope. I put in a half day of solid work building me a cane palace which, when I hadit enclosed and nearly finished, was instantaneously wrecked by a piece of rebel shell which an overhead explosion precipitated into the top of my beautiful enclosure ripping it downwards and wrecking it completely. I took up what was left of my bedding and belongings and built in a safer locality.
On the 24th my company was detailed for picket duty, and we occupied the advance rifle pits already dug, and industriously dug others in advance of those, under cover of the night. That night myself and comrade went without orders onto the battle field, armed only with spades, and buried three of our dead comrades who were killed in the assault of the 19th. It was a dangerous business, and only the intense darkness protected us from the enemy. We could only bury them by throwing dirt upon the bodies just as they lay upon the ground. Five days of exposure to the heat and sun had produced in those bodies a fearful state of decomposition, and the stench was dreadful, but we accomplished our task after a fashion. After the surrender of Vicksburg I went to the spot and beheld the partially covered bodies of our comrades which we had tried to bury in the darkness that night. Both feet and heads were bare then. Whether we had so left them, or whether the rains and winds had partially resurrected them I could not tell. I never took part in that kind of a job again. It was too dangerous, for when we returned to our lines it was so dark we could not determine the point where our men were, and caused an alarm by coming out at the wrongplace. We were challenged and came near getting shot at.
On the morning of the 25th the rebels sent out a flag of truce and asked permission to bury their dead, which was granted. Squads from both armies were sent out, and for at least two hours the work of burying the dead went on. The dead were buried by simply throwing earth onto the bodies where they had fallen. I walked out onto the battle grounds and observed the victims lying scattered over the field as far as the sight could reach. The bodies were bloated and swollen to the stature of giants. I saw some few men ripping open the pockets of the dead with their jackknives and taking therefrom watches, money and other valuable things, reeking with putrefaction, and transferring them to their own pockets. I picked up a photograph or tintype of a woman and two children which some soldier had lost, and I also found a splendid Springfield rifle which I appropriated and carried to camp. When it was dark enough that night to safely do so we were relieved from advance duty by other troops when we returned to camp.
Today, May 26th, it was rumored in camp that rebel General Johnson was approaching with a big force to relieve Vicksburg, and that a large force of the besiegers had gone out to meet him. Whatever excitement the rumor caused was allayed by the arrival of the northern mail. All the time our artillery, now said to comprise 1,300 guns, kept thundering away at Vicksburg.
On the morning of the 29th my regiment was sent out to the Chickasaw Bayou to get some big cannon. We found on arriving at the bayou four 32 pound parrots on the opposite side, which we proceeded by means of ropes to pull across on temporary pontoon bridges. Although we supplemented the strength of the bridges with thick plank laid lengthwise, and pulled the guns across on the run, still their immense weight broke almost every plank in the bridges as we snaked them across. Had we allowed one of them to stop a second midway on the bridge it would have crushed through and gone to the bottom of the bayou. We got the guns onto the firing line, as the darkeys would say, "just in the shank of the evenin'." We supplied large detail each night for digging rifle pits for the first few days, and then on alternate nights. Each tier of rifle pits brought the contending forces closer together, so they could easily converse with each other, and until prohibited by a general order, the soldiers of the blue often met the gray between the lines and swapped knives, buttons, papers and tobacco in a most cordial and friendly way. One day by mutual verbal agreement the rebel company and union company opposite each other in the rifle pits stacked arms and met in a good social way. Pat, a union soldier was acting as guard of the stacks of guns. All at once Pat laid down his gun, snatched up a spade and sent it flying into the rebel rifle pits. "What are you throwing that spade for, Pat?" said our Lieutenant. "Because," said Pat, "One of thim grayback divils hit me with aclod." Night after night during the forty-two days of that siege we furnished details to dig in the rifle pits, until our lines of rifle pits got so close to the enemy's that the dirt we cast out with our spades was mingled with that cast out of their pits. Many a night when it was so dark the rebel sharpshooters could not discern me, have I gone out between the lines and there perched on a stump, listened to the remarks freely indulged in by both Yank and Johnnie. At that time we were sapping and mining digging under their forts and blowing them up. On the 28th of June we blew up a fort opposite McPherson's center to the left of the Jackson road. The explosion threw down part of the fort and threw up a good deal of the other half. A negro was lifted gently from that fort by that explosion over into a line of rifle pits occupied by our troops. The boys picked up the frightened darkey and some one said, "Where did you come from?" "Dat fort over dar," he said. "Was a good many blown up?" was asked him. "'Spec' dar was, massa," he said, "I met a good many goin up w'en I was comin' down." One night I heard a rebel from their pits say to our men, "Say, Yanks, what you'uns digging that big ditch for?" referring to the sappers and miners zigzag ditch by which they approached and blew up the rebel fort. A voice answering from our pits said, "We intend to flood it and to run our gunboats up that ditch and shell h—l out of your old town." One night a voice said, "Is any of the boys of the 6th Missouri in the rifle pits over there?" "There's lots of 'em," was theanswer. "Is Tom Jones there?" "He is," said our man, "Is that you Jim?" "Yes," came the answer, "and say Tom, can't you meet me between the lines? I've got a roll of greenbacks and I want to send them to the old folks in Missouri?" And so Yank Tom went out and met Rebel Jim, his brother, got the greenbacks, and after a brief visit returned safely to our picket quarters.
And every night during the continuance of that long siege our numerous mortar boats down on the Mississippi tossed their cargoes of bombshells into the beleaguered city. When we watched them at night we first heard the distant thunder of the discharged mortar, and soon after saw the ponderous bomb mounting up into the sky, spinning out its fiery web along its wild track from its first appearance until it stood still for a second, then gracefully curved downward and dropped swiftly down, down into the doomed city, then as you listened, after a breath came the jarring report of its explosion. A detail of two men was made from my company one day to work on a mortar boat, and assisted in the work of firing the mortar. After charging the mortar they said all hands got into a skiff and rowed away, where they awaited at a safe distance until the gun was discharged by a time fuse or slow match, and then returned to reload. One of our men so detailed thoughtlessly laid his coat down in one corner of the mortar boat, where it lay all through the day, and when he picked it up at night it was a mass of ribbons and shreds, absolutely tornto pieces by the concussion of those fearful discharges.
As the siege progresses all sorts of rumors get afloat in camp. One is that the Vicksburg people are reduced to eating mule meat. I would have kicked when it came to that. Also that Johnson was coming with 50,000 men to raise the siege. But the rumors made no difference; our 1300 cannon kept pounding away, and we dug rifle pits continually.
IT was stated that within a week after the investment of Vicksburg, its garrison was reduced to 14-1/2 ounces of food for each man a day. And the rebel commander declared he would hold the town until the last dog was eaten. I guess Pemberton kept his word, for after their surrender I don't remember of seeing a single dog in the city of Vicksburg. How the tables were turned on poor Fido to be sure—that the biter should not only be bitten but eaten. A lieutenant on the 6th Missouri who had been taken a prisoner during the assault of the 19th, on June 5 was paroled by the rebs and returned to us. He said the living over there when he left was anything but invigorating; that good juicy mule cutlets were eagerly sought for by the elite of the city and brought fabulous prices; the tomcat-weinerwurst was a luxury there that was seldom enjoyed by the best families; that the squad in which he was quartered while a prisoner on the day before his parole had boiled victuals composed of a pair of gumboots for meat, some croquet balls for potatoes and an old green umbrella cover for greens; said he didn't enjoy those extra dishes at all; and preferred just common fare only. We used to twit the Johnnies with eating mule meat in some of our games of blackguardwith them in the rifle pits, but until the surrender we didn't know we had been twitting upon facts. We had the advantage of the rebel garrison in many ways because we were sheltered from the blistering heat of the sun by the forest shade, and had plenty to eat and the cool springs in the ravines furnished us an abundance of pure water, while the enemy was wholly unsheltered in their defensive works, reduced to almost starvation rations and a scarcity of good water. One day we captured a Johnnie skulking down in the ravine with a dozen canteens over his shoulder after water for himself and comrades.
The prices of foodstuffs in Vicksburg before the end of that siege were awful; flour was $1,000 a barrel; meal, $140 a bushel; beef, $250 a pound, and everything else in proportion. It is a wonder that poor people managed to eat at all. All the while the beleaguered garrison was sustained in their hardships and privations by the belief that Johnson would surely come to their relief, which belief was doomed to disappointment and sadly misplaced. Though 'tis stated upon good authority, that Johnson did finally march towards the Big Black and actually dispatched a messenger to Pemberton on the night of July 3rd notifying him that he was then ready to make a diversion to enable him to cut his way out. Before the messenger got there Vicksburg had been surrendered. The days of this long siege were kept from becoming monotonous by a hundred and one duties we had to perform, and innumerable exciting incidents that daily happened.All the time the firing was continuous on our side, and almost so on the part of the enemy. Every minute, almost, a tick-a-ka-tick of minie bullets was registered by the twigs and leaves above and around us. Many of our boys were killed or wounded in their bowers and beds by the stray bullets. Referring to my journal, I find June 4, a man of the 6th Missouri shot while lying in his bed; June 10, two of our men wounded at night in bed by stray bullets; June 11, heavy picket firing, men continually getting wounded in camp by stray bullets; June 13, a man of Company A shot in rifle pits, died while bringing him into camp; June 14, three men wounded in camp; June 15, today walking with my comrade, John Gubtail, over the crest of a hill, suddenly fell prostrate at my feet. I thought he was trying to act funny, but he got up in a few minutes and showed me a bullet hole through his cap and a shallow furrow across his scalp where the bullet had ploughed. The rebel sharpshooter had just missed his target partially. We went down to lower ground then.
One day Mrs. Hoge, of sanitary fame, and the mother of the colonel of my regiment, came into our camp and after getting all the soldiers of my regiment there not on duty, assembled for an audience, she made a stirring speech. Among other things she said, "Before you left Chicago we ladies presented your regiment with a flag, and your colonel when he received that flag pledged himself that it should ever be defended, and sustained with honor. What has become of that flag? I desire to see how wellyou have kept that promise." The color sergeant brought it to her. Said she, "There are suspicious looking holes and rents in this flag. How is that?" "That flag," said the color bearer proudly, "has been many times carried in the front when we went across the edge of battle, and those marks were made by bullets and fragments of shell, and madam, two men who carried it before me, fell with it in their hands, and both are dead from the effects of their wounds." "Enough," said the old lady, "You have redeemed your pledge, and I will tell the women of Chicago who presented that flag to you, when I go back, how nobly your pledge has been redeemed." Then she asked some of us who knew the song, to come forward and sing with her "The Star Spangled Banner." I was one who with others thus volunteered, and amid the thunder of artillery firing and the click of minie bullets over our heads we sang that song with Mrs. Hoge, as she held the flag in her arms.
One day when we had our men out in the rifle pits at the extreme front we saw a union flag lying in a slight ravine a little ways in front of our rifle pits, which had been abandoned by some regiment in one of the charges, and at the risk of his life one of our boys crawled out and brought in the flag. It proved to be the regimental colors of the 4th Virginia, and when we were relieved from duty we marched up to the colonel's tent of the 4th Virginia and called him out, and I with a few simple, and I thought well chosen remarks restored the lost colors of his regiment to him and wound up by saying, "Takeback your flag colonel, and next time when you are in battle hang on to it." He took the flag spitefully from me, turning very red in the face, said nothing about setting up the cigars or drinks and without thanking us even, vanished into the bowels of his tent. We boys were all mad, and if we had known how he was going to act we would have left the flag out there on the battlefield where they had abandoned it. I thought afterwards, that perhaps my presentation speech wasn't just to his taste.
On June 20th my regiment was changed in the line to the mouth of the Yazoo river on the banks of the Chickasaw Bayou. We established our new camp at that point, little thinking at the time what an unfortunate move it was for us. In the formation of these new quarters my tent position came down close to the waters of the stagnant bayou, and when I was driving stakes for my new home, a great green headed alligator poked his nozzle above the surface of the bayou waters and smiled at me. Upon examination of the ground along the bayou shore, I discovered alligator tracks where they had waltzed around under the beautiful light of the moon upon a very recent occasion, so I built my bunk high enough to enable me to roost out of reach of those hideous creatures at night.
Though I had built high enough to escape the prowling alligators I had not built high enough to get above the deadly malaria distilled by that cantankerous bayou. We soon learned what a loss we had sustained in exchanging the pure cold springs of the Walnut hills for the poisonous waters of ournew vicinity. At first the blue waters of the Yazoo fooled us. It was as blue and clear as lake water, and we drank copiously of it, but felt badly afterwards. We didn't know we were drinking poisoned water until an old colored citizen one day warned us. Then we looked the matter up, and found that the interpretation of the word Yazoo was "The river of death," and that its beautiful blue waters were the drainings of vast swamps and swails. We learned too late, however, for the safety of our men, and lost in the next few weeks nearly half of our regiment from malarial or swamp fevers. In the meantime Vicksburg was starving.
MEANWHILE the siege was prosecuted with vigor; no let up. Night and day the steady pounding of the artillery went on, and the bomb shells sailed up in flocks from the mortar fleet on the Mississippi. General Grant daily watched and directed the work of his mighty army, and knew the great fortress was surely crumbling. Often during those long hot days of June, I saw General Grant, perhaps attended by one or two orderlies, worming his quiet way through and along our trenches, carefully noting all the operations of our forces. None but those who personally knew him would have recognized in that stubby form, with its dusty blue blouse, the great General whose mighty genius was running the whole job. Our forces had erected in our lines a skeleton framed observatory, which those properly authorized and who knew how to safely mount it often ascended, and with their field glasses made observations of the enemy's works. In order to keep the common soldiers and citizens from getting shot by the enemy's sharpshooters, a guard was stationed at its base to warn and compel people to keep down, but there was so little for this guard to do that he got careless. One day in the midst of his carelessness and inattentionhe happened to look up at the observatory, and there at the very top stood a soldier. The guard was mad, and loudly and profanely commanded the intruder to come down. He said, "What you doing up there?" No answer. "You come down out of that, you fool; you'll get shot." No answer. "If you don't come down, I'll shoot you myself." Then the soldier slowly and deliberately descended to the ground, pretty vigorously cursed by the guard and relegated to the fiery regions, as he descended, and as the supposed trespasser when he reached the ground, started away, a comrade said to the guard, "You've played thunder, I must say." "What have I done?" said the other. "You've been cussing General Grant black and blue." "You don't say," said the frightened guard, "I didn't know it was him. I will apologize," and he ran after and caught up with the General and said, "I hope you will pardon what I said, General. I didn't know you." "All right, my boy," said Grant, "but you must watch closely or some one will get shot there."
When our division commander, Frank P. Blair, went along our lines, unlike Grant, he was usually attended by his whole staff and an escort of hundreds of cavalry, and the dust they kicked up enshrouded half of Vicksburg.
As soon as July 1st we began to hear rumors of preparations in progress to assault the rebel works again on the 4th of July, if the place was not sooner surrendered. There was no denying the fact, Joe Johnson had a tremendous big force in our rear and might actually take a notion toattack us, and the boys were getting tired of digging rifle pits. We had all welcomed the rumor of another contemplated assault on the 4th, but General Pemberton himself forestalled our calculations. Early on the 3rd the rebels sent a white flag outside of their works and the rebel General Bowen bore it to our lines. The news spread through our midst like wild fire, and we had little doubt it had something to do with the surrender of the post. The bearer of this flag of truce was the bearer of a letter from Pemberton directed to General Grant, in which he proposed the appointment of three commissioners by him to meet a like number from Grant to arrange terms for the capitulation of Vicksburg.
General Grant wrote an answer to Pemberton, in which he offered to meet him between the lines to arrange such terms, but declined the appointment of commissioners as Pemberton proposed. We, who occupied our advance rifle pits, climbed up on the edges and while we dangled our feet down in the holes sat up straight and looked the Johnnies square in their faces as they popped up above their works. It all looked and seemed so funny to see the widespread resurrection of both Yanks and rebs. In many places the opposing lines of pits were so close together that conversation was carried on between us and the foemen during the armistice. An old grizzly reb straightened up out of a nearby pit. He sported long, gray Billy goat whiskers and his shaggy eyebrows looked like patches of hedge rows. Just opposite him on our side anotherold graybeard stood up in his pit and the two old warriors surveyed each other for several minutes; then old Johnnie said, "Hello, you over thar!" "Hello yourself," said old Yank. "Is that your hole your stan'nen in over thar?" said Johnnie. "I reckon," said Yank. "Wal, don't you know Mister, I've had some tarned good shots at you?" "I reckon," said Yank, "but s'pose ye hain't noticed no lead slung over thar nor nothin'?" "Yes," said Johnnie, "you spattered some dirt in my eyes now 'n' then." "So'd you mine," said Yank. And in that strain those two old veterans talked and laughed from their respective roosts as though trying to shoot each other was the funniest thing in the world. About 3 o'clock that afternoon we saw some Union officers go out of our lines and part way over to the rebel works sit down under a tree on the grass.
We afterwards learned those men were Grant, Rowlins, Logan, McPherson and A. J. Smith. A short time afterwards some men in gray uniform came out of the rebel works and met our men under the tree. Those men were Pemberton, Bowen and a staff officer, we also learned afterward. I was so far from them that I could not discern their features and could hardly tell their uniforms, but I watched as did thousands of our men with intense interest that long parleying, under that distant tree, until the conference broke up and the parties returned to their respective commands. That night we knew the city had virtually capitulated and only awaited the settlement of terms.
On the 4th of July at 10 o'clock a. m. the Confederateforces marched out in front of their works, stacked their arms, hung upon them all accouterments and laid their faded flags on top of all. It was one of the saddest sights I ever beheld, and I can honestly say I pitied those brave men from the bottom of my heart. Our brave fellows, though, never uttered a shout of exultation during the whole ceremony of surrender. We marched into the city afterwards that day, raised the flag upon the court house and gave ourselves a general airing in Vicksburg. As our forces marched through the town the rebel women scowled, made faces and spit at us, but we survived it all and kept good natured. One fat old colored woman was just jumping up and down for joy, and she cried out as we marched by, "Heah day come. Heah day is. Jes' you look at 'em, none your little yaller faced sickly fellers, but full grown men, wid blood in 'em," etc., etc. I saw many Union men and Confederates walking and conversing together, but the rebel officers generally held aloof and acted as though they were miffed at something.
There were surrendered in men that day 15 generals, 31,000 soldiers, 172 cannon.
After the surrender I went over their works and fields. I saw the great holes in the ground where our bomb shells had exploded, big enough to contain a two-story building. I saw caves in the hillsides where people had lived during the siege. I saw the ground in places so littered with shot and unexploded shells from our batteries that it was difficult to walk without stepping onthem. I saw the trees, many of them, actually girdled by our shot. I picked up one little shell and thought I would take it home with me as a relic. It looked like a mammoth butterfly egg, but it was heavy and had a sinister complexion. Many of our men were injured by those shells, in picking them up and dropping them carelessly onto their percussion points, and so I improved the opportunity one day to give mine to a relic hunter. After the surrender my regiment was moved from the mouth of the Yazoo up onto the Vicksburg hill, but we failed to recover our health. Our men were dying daily, and finally we were ordered to Corinth, Mississippi July 29th, and embarked on transport "Silver Wave" for our new destination, the well men in the regiment not being sufficient and able to care for the sick.
Transcriber Notes:Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected unless otherwise noted.On page 4, "ond" was replaced with "and".On page 4, "smille" was replaced with "smile".On page 4, "Governer" was replaced with "Governor".On page 6, "partiotic" was replaced with "patriotic".On page 7, "departue" was replaced with "departure".On page 7, "and and" was replaced with "and".On page 8, "threshhold" was replaced with "threshold".On page 8, "winodw" was replaced with "window".On page 10, "had" was replaced with "hand".On page 11, "over wrought" was replaced with "overwrought".On page 13, "depresstd" was replaced with "depressed".On page 15, "wierd" was replaced with "weird".On page 17, quotation mark was added before "Better'n I 'spected".On page 18, "wierd" was replaced with "weird".On page 19, a closing quotation mark was added after "they called,".On page 19, "of a of a" was replaced with "of a".On page 27, a period was added after "MAY 19".On page 30, a quotation mark was added before "Damn your bit".On page 33, "windrow" was replaced with "window".On page 36, a quotation mark was added after "With pleasure, madam,".On page 36, "road" was replaced with "rode".On page 37, "centtury" was replaced with "century".On page 46, a period was added after "RIFLE PITS".On page 48, "putrifaction" was replaced with "putrefaction".On page 49, "parrotts" was replaced with "parrots".On page 50, On page 50, a quotation mark was added after "of your old town.".On page 53, a period was added after "THE CLOSING SCENES".On page 54, "watter" was replaced with "water".On page 60, a question mark was added after "What you doing up there".On page 60, a question mark was added before "What have I done?".On page 60, "dont" was replaced with "don't".On page 60, a comma and a question mark was added after "I will apologize".
Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected unless otherwise noted.
On page 4, "ond" was replaced with "and".
On page 4, "smille" was replaced with "smile".
On page 4, "Governer" was replaced with "Governor".
On page 6, "partiotic" was replaced with "patriotic".
On page 7, "departue" was replaced with "departure".
On page 7, "and and" was replaced with "and".
On page 8, "threshhold" was replaced with "threshold".
On page 8, "winodw" was replaced with "window".
On page 10, "had" was replaced with "hand".
On page 11, "over wrought" was replaced with "overwrought".
On page 13, "depresstd" was replaced with "depressed".
On page 15, "wierd" was replaced with "weird".
On page 17, quotation mark was added before "Better'n I 'spected".
On page 18, "wierd" was replaced with "weird".
On page 19, a closing quotation mark was added after "they called,".
On page 19, "of a of a" was replaced with "of a".
On page 27, a period was added after "MAY 19".
On page 30, a quotation mark was added before "Damn your bit".
On page 33, "windrow" was replaced with "window".
On page 36, a quotation mark was added after "With pleasure, madam,".
On page 36, "road" was replaced with "rode".
On page 37, "centtury" was replaced with "century".
On page 46, a period was added after "RIFLE PITS".
On page 48, "putrifaction" was replaced with "putrefaction".
On page 49, "parrotts" was replaced with "parrots".
On page 50, On page 50, a quotation mark was added after "of your old town.".
On page 53, a period was added after "THE CLOSING SCENES".
On page 54, "watter" was replaced with "water".
On page 60, a question mark was added after "What you doing up there".
On page 60, a question mark was added before "What have I done?".
On page 60, "dont" was replaced with "don't".
On page 60, a comma and a question mark was added after "I will apologize".