In addition to politics, Grierson loved the arts. From an early age his mother imbued within him a passion for theater, novels, and poetry, but the music she loved so much took flame in his soul even as a youngster, and the Irish ballads she sang to him made a special impression. “From my earliest remembrance, I had a great love and talent for music,” he explained. At first he displayed his talent by singing and whistling, and his father humored him by borrowing a flute from an Ohio neighbor. Soon the boy was in the habit of memorizing songs and practicing them until he had them mastered. He worked with Isaac White, a local Youngstown music professor, at his school and progressed from the flute to other instruments, including guitar, clarinet, piano, and violin. “I was so infatuated with music that I could think of but little else,” he admitted, “being unwilling to give up playing the flute even to eat or sleep.” By the age of 13, locals banded together to buy him a fine clarinet of his own, and he joined the Youngstown school band. He also took part in providing music at campaign events for William Henry Harrison.14
The infamous youthful horse accident also played a role in Grierson’s musical development. “There was not one person excepting my mother who believed that I could possibly live,” he recalled. His recovery required sequestration in a dark room for several months because his mother was worried the blindness would return if he did not do so. He had ample time on his hands during those months, which his mother and sisters filled with singing and music. The impact was significant, and he used the occasion to prime his imagination and art sensitivity.15
By the time Grierson entered the workforce as a merchant clerk, he was giving music lessons and repairing instruments. He even learned to play a strange one-of-a-kind device—a large wooden box with keys and a bell “shaped somewhat like a bassoon, but different. The music I got out of it was astonishing.” His love for music played a large role in his courtship of Alice, who loved it as much as he did. The pair often performed duets and wrote lyrics. He combined his two loves, he later explained, by opening the window of his bedroom and pointing his clarinet in the direction of her mansion and playing the tunes “I knew she most admired. Of course, my warm feelings towards her enabled me to execute with precision and give that kind of expression so essential to the proper rendering of music.” When Grierson wrote and even conducted his own creations, Alice beamed with pride. Later, when the Griersons moved to Illinois, he conducted the state capital’s Springfield Band. In Illinois, he merged his passions and wrote songs for campaigns, including Lincoln’s 1860 run for the presidency.16
Unfortunately, there was little money to be made as a band leader or composer, especially in rural Illinois. With the financial collapse and political crisis, Grierson found himself without a home, deep in debt, and having several mouths to feed. What he had no way of knowing was that the most unique opportunity of his life was heading in his direction.17
***
The age-old question of whether important events shape the man or the man influences events was on full display during the Civil War. Many prominent examples offer themselves, two of the most conspicuous being Abraham Lincoln and Ulysses S. Grant. Benjamin H. Grierson would follow this Illinois pattern.
In 1860 Lincoln was an out-of-work politician. He had recently lost a senate race and was vilified, mocked, and denounced even as he ran for president. Today he is widely considered one of our best and most influential presidents. Would that have been the case if the country had avoided a civil war? Likewise, Grant was a failure at almost everything he had attempted before the Civil War. The conflict completely remade the man, provided his niche for success, and elevated him to be one of the most popular Americans of his time. It also secured for him the presidency in 1868.18
Benjamin Grierson experienced a similar elevation in his life status, albeit on a distinctly more modest level. He had failed in business, was deep in debt, his marriage was suffering, and he had been reduced to living with and being provided for by his family. He was a foundering man in need of a boost and a direction change. The Civil War provided the change he needed. The peaceful music teacher who had endured a frightful experience with a horse during his early years would become one of the most prominent cavalry commanders of his age.19
Grierson had some military experience prior to the war. When he lived in Ohio, he joined that state’s militia and served in a cavalry regiment (not surprisingly) as a bugler. The militia was little more than a drinking club, and the men elected “well-known drunkards” as officers and the muster was “a good deal of fun,” Grierson admitted. “I little thought that the time would ever come when I could be called upon to serve in earnest.” He was serving as “trumpeter” for the company when it was assigned to a militia regiment and one of his father’s associates was named its commander. “We continued five years in that position,” he added, “and received certificates for services thus rendered.”20
Nothing about playing at war prepared him for the real thing when North and South split apart. “Of course,” he admitted, “the knowledge and experience gained by service with the Ohio militia was not essentially beneficial in aiding me to command successfully in serious warfare.” Being a firm Republican with strong abolitionist and Unionist sentiments, Grierson supported fellow Illinoisan Lincoln in the spring of 1861 and even talked of joining the service. His desperate financial situation and desperately ill mother, however, coupled with Alice’s opposition to enlistment (mainly because of her concern for how army life would further corrupt her already nonpious husband) stalled such a move. When his mother survived another stroke and stabilized, however, Grierson helped organize a local company from Jacksonville that would eventually become part of the 10th Illinois Infantry. “I immediately did all in my power to sustain the right and to hasten the enrollment and organization of troops,” he confirmed. While he was weighing his options and balancing his familial concerns, the company’s ranks filled. Other companies were being raised around Jacksonville, and one of them was destined to become part of the 6th Illinois Cavalry.21
When the heavy unease broke into open war in April 1861, Grierson prepared to take part and began reading widely about tactics. He received his break when his friend and Jacksonville native Governor Yates called him to Springfield to deliver dispatches. Yates sent Grierson to Benjamin Prentiss at Cairo, Illinois, with a pouch of papers, including a general’s commission. The appreciative Prentiss offered Grierson a spot on his staff, a kindness “thankfully received and accepted.” Unfortunately, it was an unpaid volunteer position, but it held some promise. Alice was less than thrilled because now she would have to take care of his ailing mother as well as the two active boys all by herself. It is doubtful whether his letter trying to explain his decision—“I must (to be true to myself & country) stand not idly by in this hour of time”—influenced his wife.22
Governor Richard Yates. Jacksonville, Illinois, native and Grierson friend Governor Richard Yates changed Grierson’s fortunes when he appointed him as major in the 6th Illinois Cavalry. Courtesy of Steve Hicks
Grierson stuck with Prentiss during his command tenure at Cairo and later in Missouri. A hoped-for elevation in permanent rank and pay, however, never came. My service, he later complained, was “still unpaid for and unrecognized officially on the Army Register.” Alice’s continued disapproval of his course of action did not help, and Grierson began to despair over his limited options. “Do not be troubled about sending money at present, I have still five dollars left,” she wrote him with obvious sarcasm. Fortunately for Grierson his brother John repeatedly bailed him out, but the sibling wrote Alice that her husband “had a screw loose in his bump of order.”23
Grierson’s increasingly unhappy connection with Prentiss reached a head when Prentiss lost a rank dispute with Ulysses S. Grant. Grierson stood with his friend Prentiss but grew embarrassed when he “became very violent and abusive” toward Grant. Grierson took his concerns to Governor Yates, who promised the young staffer that he would find him a
secure spot as soon as possible. Months ebbed by with no change, however, and Grierson became more despondent over what he described as “the unsatisfactory condition of my private affairs.” A personal visit to Springfield did not improve his official position, but it did allow him to spend time with Alice and the boys.24
Grierson’s career took a significant upswing when Yates finally came through and appointed him a major in the 6th Illinois Cavalry. The cavalry regiment had three battalions, two of which already had commanding majors. If he accepted, Grierson would be junior to the other two officers. Several officers had already refused the post because of that fact, although several captains in the regiment wanted the job. Grierson accepted with high hopes and reported to Camp Yates with his own horse and equipment. Unfortunately, his high expectations were quickly dashed. Illinois and the federal government were having a hard time supplying the large number of recruits needed to wage the growing war, and the regiment spent months without either horses or weapons. Discipline within the 6th Illinois was almost nonexistent, as were supplies and pay, which would not be forthcoming until the regiment mustered into federal service. Most of the problems centered around the regiment’s political colonel, Thomas M. Cavanaugh, who was absent much of the time and devoid of any leadership abilities, and his carousing adjutant son, who also hampered efficiency and morale. Grierson’s own spirit suffered accordingly: “It was no wonder that I was disgusted with soldiering where it was all work and no pay.”25
Rather than acquiesce to what was transpiring, Grierson set out to make sure his four-company battalion was the best in the regiment. Initially his men resisted all his efforts to instill discipline, including some of the captains who had wanted his job. “My patience, energy, and ability were soon thoroughly tested,” he later admitted. It became so bad that Grierson thought to “quit and go home, where if I was obliged to starve, I possibly might have the satisfaction of dying in my wife’s arms.”26
Eventually, his firm but fair hand and balanced approach convinced the recruits he was working for them, not against them. Still, shaping them into soldiers was a difficult task. At one point Grierson informed his unhappy subordinates, if “it was found that I was not a suitable person for the position, I would surrender it to anyone else for whom the officers and men might signify their preference.” When he offered to leave, the men would not hear of it. Even more gratifying, the man leading the support was Capt. Reuben Loomis, who had earlier wanted the position for himself. When whispers within the regiment emerged against Colonel Cavanaugh, some of the men wanted Grierson to replace him. The conflict-immune Grierson would have none of it. Some of the soldiers even produced a petition for Governor Yates, but Grierson refused to join the mutiny. The lack of news reaching the camp also disheartened Grierson, who later joked, “We might as well have been on top of the Rocky Mountains.” When news did arrive, however, it was usually unwelcome. A letter informed him that his mother had had another stroke and was once again at the point of death. Leave was granted, and Grierson made a quick trip to Jacksonville.27
Despite these and other problems, Grierson soon had his battalion in fighting shape. He drilled the men constantly, and classes for officers taught tactics and drill. Morale rose. After delivering a speech that “quite astonished myself as well as the soldiers,” he recalled, “I received three cheers from the entire battalion.” His frequent musical renditions at parties and hotels also drew praise from the men and officers. Unfortunately for the 6th Illinois, however, the majors at the head of the other two battalions were not as diligent, and their commands suffered accordingly. Rather than training the men themselves, they depended on a hired drillmaster, who “spent his time in guzzling beer at the sutler’s and talking loudly about what great things he expected to accomplish.”28
The regiment was mustered into federal service at Camp Butler on November 19, 1861, and was sent south without having been issued weapons. Grierson’s four companies traveled to Smithland, Kentucky, on the Ohio River at the mouth of the Cumberland River. Grierson was relieved that he and his men were finally on the move and away “from the deplorable regimental entanglements.” For a time he found himself the ranking officer there, but that ended when the battalion rejoined the rest of the regiment at Paducah. Grierson pleaded with anyone who would listen that his troopers needed weapons, including Paducah commander William T. Sherman and army commander U. S. Grant. Unfortunately, no arms were available. Grierson’s private efforts to obtain them also failed, although he eventually managed to find 150 Sharps carbines that had somehow escaped the attention of others.29
Grierson’s career soon took another upswing. In April 1862 most of the officers in the regiment petitioned for Colonel Cavanaugh’s removal and Grierson’s promotion—especially after an embarrassing regimental review during which only Grierson’s battalion displayed any martial ability. Cavanaugh saw the writing on the wall and left in disgrace. His “conduct had rendered him totally unfit for the position,” wrote a disgusted Grierson, and his acts “bore marked evidence of insanity.” On April 13, Grierson was called aboard a steamboat to see his old friend Governor Yates, where, “much to my surprise, [I] came off soon after colonel of the 6th Illinois Cavalry, with my commission in my pocket received without any effort on my part.” Yates introduced Grierson to his guests as “a very young colonel, just five minutes old.” His was a swift rise for such a novice cavalryman, but Grierson had already demonstrated significant ability and had, in fact, expended substantial efforts to get his command in shape.30
Some “thought me a rather common-looking colonel,” explained Grierson, but department commander Henry Halleck told him he “looked active and wiry enough to make a good cavalryman.” The new colonel was determined to uphold discipline and re-instill order in the entire regiment. After a bold confrontation with rogue captains from the other pair of battalions who did not like being corralled after acting so long with complete freedom, Grierson worked the 6th Illinois Cavalry into a cohesive and effective command. His role was made somewhat easier when weapons finally arrived to properly arm his troopers.31
The higher rank brought with it an increase in monthly pay to $253, which helped Alice warm a bit to life in the army. She still pestered her husband about his morality, especially cigar smoking, which “spoiled” his kisses, and advised him to attend religious services in the camp. Grierson demurred to the latter suggestion by countering that the chaplain was boring. Alice visited him on occasion, despite the fact that the regiment was moving farther south with the larger army. Eventually the regiment moved to Memphis, Tennessee, where Grierson took in as much music and theater as possible. Once he became convinced he would be stationed there for some time, Alice and the boys moved from Illinois to join him. Their sojourn in Tennessee was short and they returned to Jacksonville when Grierson and his command were transferred east to La Grange, Tennessee.32
Grierson received a chance to test his own abilities and those of his well-trained 6th Illinois Cavalry during the summer, fall, and winter months of 1862. The operations consisted of several small raids into northern Mississippi against Confederate cavalry. The fighting was mostly skirmishing, but it was still dangerous. During one affair, several bullets ripped through his coat and pants, and one passed between his fingers but did not break the skin. His horse, Old Barber, was wounded but survived. On another occasion, he informed Alice, “a carbine ball passed just over my right ear so close as to cause the ear and head to be swollen and painful for a few days.” The fighting increased Grierson’s confidence in his commanders in general and in General Sherman in particular, who presented the colonel with a captured silver-plated weapon in recognition of his good work. On occasion, he commanded a cavalry brigade consisting of his own regiment and the 7th Illinois Cavalry and 2nd Iowa Cavalry. Other officers, junior in rank, also led the brigade at times, but the nonconfrontational Grierson raised no objections. Grierson hoped his extra efforts would secure a brigadier general’s star, but months p
assed without promotion. During this period, his mother finally succumbed to her health issues, but that October he received his wish to have his brother John appointed as the quartermaster of his regiment. The Grierson boys were together once again.33
By this time, Grierson had made a name for himself, and both Sherman and Grant were impressed with him. His reports recounted daring mounted affairs, including one surprise attack on a Confederate camp (“If we had fallen from the skies, they could not have been more surprised”). Because of my “constant and active scouting, the country from forty to fifty miles around Memphis was kept well scoured,” he concluded, “and no rebel organization could be formed within that distance and remain.” After one of Grierson’s successful raids, Sherman teased the enemy by sending whiskey and a note that “Colonel Grierson had returned to Memphis and that he would soon be sent again to pay his respects to the Confederate forces.” Grant recommended Grierson for additional responsibilities and urged his promotion to brigadier general as early as February 1863. Unfortunately, when he wrote this to President Lincoln, Grant mistakenly attached Grierson to the 6th Missouri Cavalry rather than the 6th Illinois.34
By the time Grant began contemplating a cavalry raid deep into Mississippi to inflict damage and divert attention away from his Vicksburg operations, he was well familiar with Grierson and confident he was the right man for the job. Sherman, who had also been pushing for Grierson’s promotion to brigadier general, agreed. “I certainly wish your promotion if you want it,” he wrote the regimental commander. “Grant speaks in the highest terms of you and ratifies all I wrote him of you,” he continued, adding that “you have the goodwill of your late and present commander.” Sherman confided to Grant that Grierson “is the best Cavalry officer I have yet had.”35
The Real Horse Soldiers Page 6
