The Real Horse Soldiers

by Timothy B Smith

  The Southern Railroad stretched 135 miles from Meridian in the east all the way to Vicksburg in the west on the Mississippi River. Most of the supplies required for Pemberton’s army, as well as the troops at Jackson and Port Hudson, Louisiana, passed over this line, which was also a connecting link for states in the Trans-Mississippi Theater, including Arkansas, Missouri, and Texas. By April 24, 1863, the day Grierson’s troopers descended on the Southern Railroad, it remained the one and only connection Vicksburg had to the rest of the Confederacy. Other regional rail lines feeding into the Southern Railroad helped keep the Mississippi River garrison supplied, but earlier Union campaigns had diminished their importance. The Mississippi Central, for example, ran out of west-central Tennessee south through Canton and on to Jackson, where it intersected with the Southern Railroad running west to Vicksburg. Likewise, the New Orleans, Jackson, and Great Northern ran north through eastern Louisiana to Jackson, hauling men and supplies up from that region. Unfortunately for the Confederacy, neither railroad extended to its natural terminus. The Mississippi Central’s line was broken just south of Oxford, and not too much farther north the line ran into Union-held territory. As Grierson observed, the line only ran as far north as the damaged Yacona River bridges. The New Orleans, Jackson, and Great Northern ran into Union-held territory before it reached New Orleans. This fact diminished the railroads’ effectiveness and reduced the area from which the Confederacy could draw supplies and transport men.

  This was not the case with the Southern Railroad, which ran due east to Confederate-held Meridian. The line connected there with the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, which Union forces had severed farther north, just below Corinth. The line was also broken in other places now that Colonel Hatch’s Iowans were temporarily operating along its right of way. But it still ran all the way south to Mobile, Alabama. Large numbers of troops, goods, food stuffs, and ammunition could still reach Vicksburg by way of Mobile and Meridian along the Southern Railroad. And that made it especially vital to John Pemberton.

  Striking and severing this major route of supply was the chief objective of Grierson’s attack on April 24. His success would also divert attention away from Grant’s crossing of the Mississippi River south of Vicksburg. Grierson had no way of knowing when or if that crossing would occur, but if he could move the last 20 miles to Newton Station, he could personally oversee at least one of his objectives: creating as much damage as possible to the railroad. That action would further cripple the Confederate complex of lines, decapitating it at all points of the compass around Jackson. Grant’s larger plan to put Grierson in this position had worked to perfection.

  ***

  By the early morning of April 24, Grant had moved south through Louisiana until he was below Vicksburg, and he established his headquarters at New Carthage. He was pushing General McClernand to cross his corps over the Mississippi River as soon as possible. Grant was also interested in the various diversions. By this time, both Bryant’s and Smith’s expeditions were back in the Memphis area. These operations had helped pin down Confederates west of Grierson’s proposed route, leaving the raiders plenty of room to set off south relatively unopposed. Similarly, Grenville Dodge had moved east from Corinth and was now well into Alabama and approaching Tuscumbia, while Abel Streight’s mule-mounted troopers were culling their sickly men and mounts in order to continue their expedition once Dodge completed his eastward trek. Grierson benefited from both.3

  Perhaps the most influential and beneficial diversion for Grierson was the one still underway in Mississippi. While Grierson’s men were preparing to close the handful of remaining miles to their objective, Colonel Hatch’s 500 Iowans continued pulling the Confederates closest to Grierson northward. When dawn broke over his camp at Tupelo, Hatch pointed his regiment northwest in the direction of La Grange, Tennessee. He was worried General Chalmers’s Confederates were lurking in the vicinity and might pounce on his vulnerable command. Hatch marched his Hawkeyes through Birmingham toward Molino, where he had earlier encountered the enemy during his ride southward. His plan was to cross the Tallahatchie River there. The waterway was the last major impediment to reaching Tennessee. This route also left Hatch with the alternative of peeling away toward Union-occupied Corinth if he ran into too much trouble trying to cross the Tallahatchie at Molino.4

  Indeed, trouble found Hatch below the Tallahatchie River. “I was attacked in the rear by what I believe to be Chalmers’ forces at 10:00 a.m.,” he later reported. In fact, the enemy was not Chalmers but Colonel Barteau’s persistent 2nd Tennessee Cavalry, which had ridden most of the night and caught up with Hatch even though the Iowans had burned several bridges in their wake. Hatch fought off the enemy troopers with Companies A and C while the rest of his men guarded prisoners and captured horses. According to Barteau, the fighting consumed more than two hours. Sensing success, Barteau pushed his Tennesseans forward as the Iowans fell back, “driving [them] in confusion across Camp Creek,” where the Union troopers burned the bridge. Unbeknownst to Barteau, however, Hatch had not been driven back but had withdrawn. When his ammunition began to run low, he decided to make some mileage by executing another fighting retreat—a running duel between his regiment and his aggressive Tennessean pursuers. Hatch stopped “occasionally to repel their charges, concealing my men at all favorable points with the 2-pounder, which did excellent service.” The excellent tactician “waited until the enemy was nearly on me, when I opened fire at short range, the enemy suffering terribly, with small loss to me. In this way the attack was kept up for 6 miles.”5

  Fortunately for the Federal cavalry, the Tennesseans finally had enough and broke off the chase and returned to their pre-raid camps. “The enemy were evidently tired, and, with the exception of annoyance from guerilla parties,” explained Hatch, “we were not troubled by the enemy from that point.” Hatch moved his Iowans on through Ripley, where Judge Davis noted in his diary that part of the Iowa command “passed through going north in a hurry.” Hatch’s column made it back to La Grange without further interference. Remarkably, Hatch lost only 10 men on his daring side raid. General Hurlbut had been right when he informed Grant that Hatch and his troopers “are not in yet, and may have some trouble, but Hatch will take care of himself and his men.”6

  The Iowans were immensely proud of their work. “We have just come off a 10 days scout,” one crowed, “and we had a good hard time and found plenty of Rebs to keep us in exercise.” He added that he and his comrades had been “down 150 miles inside their lines” and deplored the death of one man shot by a guerrilla within 20 miles of La Grange. Still, the Iowan confessed, “I think our Regt is the luckiest one in service.”7

  The Iowans had taken part in most of the major raid and pulled off the important and dangerous diversion Grierson had dropped in Hatch’s lap. The daring ride convinced Confederate commanders, including General Pemberton in Jackson, that the Federal cavalry threat in north Mississippi had ended. State commander Samuel Gholson, for example, notified his superior, Governor John J. Pettus, that the “enemy that were here have been driven back.” Although he had earlier called Pemberton to send him reinforcements, General Ruggles reported much the same as Gholson, beginning as early as April 23, when he observed that the enemy was “reported falling back before our cavalry.” He elaborated on that message: “Reliable information has just been received that the enemy were passing Houston this morning, going toward Pontotoc.” Ruggles boasted, falsely as it turned out, “The force confronting me has been routed and driven back by my troops.”8

  The surge of Southern confidence sweeping through north Mississippi, however, was misplaced. Unbeknownst to anyone in the upper echelons of the Confederate leadership, the main enemy column had not turned around and skedaddled or been “driven back,” as Ruggles claimed, but was riding hard to strike Newton Station and break the vital Southern Railroad of Mississippi.9

  While these diversions played out in north Mississippi, the main raid—itself a diversion in a much l
arger scheme—was ready to spring like a coiled snake. Only 20 miles separated Grierson’s troopers and the Southern Railroad at Newton Station. As far as he had come and with as much success as he had thus far managed, Grierson knew he had a real chance to surprise the enemy and inflict some major damage. And he intended to do just that on April 24.10

  ***

  Lieutenant Colonel Blackburn and troopers from the 7th Illinois formed the first wave of Grierson’s strike force. Blackburn had led his men south at 10:00 p.m. on the evening of April 23, riding through small Mississippi villages dotting the road leading to Newton Station. The Illinois cavalrymen rode through Neshoba Springs (east of the modern-day Neshoba community) and a town called Union. According to local lore, the Federals did not burn Union because they had told the civilians there that “Union” is exactly what they were fighting for. Next came the Newton County seat at Decatur, which was just 10 miles from the railroad. It was there that the first inkling of trouble presented itself when unsuspecting citizens reported to Surby and his scouts that Newton Station was well guarded and that Confederate cavalry had recently passed through. The fast-moving but now considerably more worried Illinoisans moved through Decatur just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Blackburn kept riding and approached the station about 6:00 a.m. If Newton was garrisoned, no one seemed to be expecting them.11

  Grierson followed an hour behind Blackburn with the second wave, taking the same route with the rest of the 7th Illinois Cavalry and the entirety of the 6th Illinois Cavalry, along with Captain Smith’s four small guns. The column was approaching Decatur with the sun breaking in the east when Captain Lynch and his lone trooper of Company E caught up with Grierson. The pair had finished their dangerous ride to Macon and back to cut the telegraph line. Their arrival astounded the brigade commander, because they had “ridden without interruption for two days and nights without a moment’s rest.” He added, “All honor to the gallant captain, whose intrepid coolness and daring characterizes him on every occasion.” Despite the captain’s gallantry and hard riding, there was no rest for the weary. Lynch and his comrade joined the column and continued riding on like everyone else toward the goal awaiting them to the south.12

  The critical hour of the entire raid was upon them, and much of the responsibility for its success now fell onto the shoulders of the young and often impetuous Blackburn. Cutting the telegraph lines running out of the station might indicate to other operators there was trouble along the line, but if Blackburn could isolate Newton Station before word got out, the Confederates would not be able to send news about the Federal arrival any faster than a horse could gallop. Blackburn also had to disrupt Newton’s transportation potential. A train with its steam up could slip away and spread the alarm to a nearby station, which could telegraph the news around the state. If that happened, the Confederates could use the railroad to quickly concentrate troops and trap Grierson’s command.13

  With Grierson about an hour behind him, Blackburn decided to scout the area around the town and sent Surby and a few horsemen to reconnoiter. The scout, who found “an elevated position, from whence I could obtain a pretty good view of the place,” reported Surby, also rustled up two important facts from a resident: The town was not garrisoned, and a pair of trains, a freight train from the east and another from the west, were momentarily expected. The news spurred Surby to send word to Blackburn to hurry his men forward. Within minutes, the lieutenant colonel and his Illinois battalions thundered into town. Everything had worked perfectly. The last thing Newton was expecting was Grierson’s men.14

  After issuing orders not to sever the lines, Blackburn swept in and took possession of the telegraph office. Anticipating the arrival of the trains, he hid men at the switches so they could throw them after the trains arrived to prevent their escape. He “barely had time to do this and conceal his men and horses when a freight train of twenty-five cars came rolling in,” a staff officer recorded. Several Federal troopers jumped into the cab and took the engineer and fireman prisoner, and the train was moved onto a sidetrack before the second train arrived. Blackburn gave this one the same treatment, also without incident, and ordered his men out into the open to begin their destructive work.15

  The first captured train was loaded with railroad equipment, including crossties to repair the line. The second train was shorter than the first and carried passengers and military goods, including commissary and ordnance stores, “among the latter several thousand loaded shells.” The troopers rounded up about 100 prisoners, most of them convalescing in a hospital. According to an Illinois cavalryman, the Southern men were “ready to join their regiments” when they fell into Union hands.16

  Blackburn, marveled Grierson, had “succeeded in capturing two trains in less than half an hour after his arrival.” By the time Grierson arrived with the balance of the brigade, Blackburn’s men were hard at work destroying the cars. It sounded as if “a first-class battle was in progress,” thought one Federal officer. With the main column now on hand in Newton, Grierson sent more men out along the rail line to widen the destruction. Other troopers fanned out and found a significant amount of supplies in town, including “a large quantity of commissary and quartermaster’s stores and about five hundred stand of arms.”17

  The haul of 2 locomotives, 40 cars, and commissary and ordnance stores was impressive. Grant had been begging in recent months for more locomotives for his department. Grierson, however, was too deep in Mississippi, and there was no way to get any of this valuable equipment into Union hands. Besides, his orders were to destroy and divert, not capture and confiscate. The brigade commander ordered everything his men could not carry away to be destroyed.18

  The cavalrymen did their jobs well. Destroying the small arms and military supplies proved easy enough, but the larger railroad equipment was a different matter. Destroying a heavy locomotive beyond repair was extremely difficult, and simple tools were not enough to put them out of use for long. As a last resort, Grierson ordered his men to pack gunpowder around them. “The locomotives were exploded and otherwise rendered completely unserviceable,” he stated. Mississippi newspapers, however, reported that the damage inflicted on the engines was negligible and that the Federals had run one of the locomotives off the tracks, where it overturned. To render the line temporarily inoperable, Grierson also had his men tear up the track at Newton Station and destroy a bridge half a mile farther west.19

  Damaging the locomotives, burning supplies, and destroying a small bridge was a good start, but Grierson had bigger plans in mind. In addition to diverting attention away from Grant’s crossing of the river, he wanted to inflict long-term damage to the rail line supplying Vicksburg. The Chunkey River just east of Newton Station flowed in a snakelike course from its headwaters around the town of Union. Both waves of cavalry crossed it that morning before reaching Newton. Because of the river’s curvy path, the railroad crossed it three times in just three miles, once west and twice east of the little village of Chunkey. The concentration of these large bridges in one small area offered a perfect opportunity to inflict the sort of damage Grierson hoped to achieve.20

  Newton Station. The tangible goal of the raid was to break the Southern Railroad of Mississippi at Newton Station. This photo shows the modern station on the site of the one Grierson’s men destroyed. Author

  The Federal brigade commander sent a battalion of the 6th Illinois Cavalry under Maj. Mathew H. Starr to strike the 150-foot-long bridges to the east and a similar body west under Capt. Joseph R. Herring of Company K of the 7th Illinois Cavalry. Once the destruction was complete, reported Colonel Prince, the troopers had “burned the bridges for six miles.” The simultaneous cutting of telegraph lines involved a bit more trickery. The saboteurs sought out sections of the line encumbered by brush and cut it there, tying the ends together with leather straps. The action broke the line, but made it exceedingly difficult for repair parties to find the breaks and fix them.21

  Grierson, meanwhile, kept a
watchful eye on the level of destruction. Some private structures in Confederate service were destroyed, such as a storehouse owned by James McGrath, the first postmaster in Newton Station and a Unionist who had already fled town. According to the county history, Grierson’s men “did not destroy any private residences, or any private property.” Grierson treated civilians well, hoping to garner their support or at least keep them silent for as long as possible. One Mississippi newspaper declared that the raiders took “surgical instruments,” which were of military value, but also noted that Grierson stopped other looting. “The safe at the railroad depot was also broken open and the funds abstracted. The money was returned, however, by order of the commanding officer, with the exception of fifteen hundred dollars that it was claimed some of the men had stolen.” The paper went on to note, “We can hear of but little outrage having been committed upon the persons of non-combatants or their property except by the seizure of every good horse, and of necessary forage and provisions. They had to depend on the country entirely for these.”22

  Other cases of lenient treatment emerged. The eastbound train included a passenger car and a couple of boxcars stuffed with private items belonging to civilians fleeing Vicksburg. Once Grierson’s men attacked the train and the civilians onboard realized what was happening, they threw their valuables out the windows on the opposite side, hoping they could return later to retrieve them. Once the escapees fell into Union hands, they begged Grierson not to harm or rob them. After the brigade commander calmly explained that he and his men were “not making war upon private citizens or unnecessarily destroying their property,” the rattled civilians realized they would not be robbed and were “much chagrined at their own actions.” One Union soldier helped a Southern man find a wallet stuffed with $6,000.23