Once the Federals had damaged Newton Station’s military facilities as thoroughly as they were able, their brigade commander concluded it was time to pull up stakes and get as far away from the place as possible. Grierson knew he could not keep word of his arrival or his day’s work secret for long, and that meant every available Confederate soldier would soon be after him. Major Starr and his Illinoisans, however, were still engaged in their bridge-destroying duties at Chunkey and had yet to rejoin the column. Thus, Grierson decided to move several miles in an effort to put some distance between his men and any pursuing Confederates and yet remain within supporting distance of Starr’s column. It would also allow him to take some time to feed his bone-tired men and horses who had been enduring lengthy rides (Grierson called them “forced marches”) for several days, in addition to their destructive work.24
Almost as quickly as the Federals had swept down upon the unsuspecting railroad town, buglers sounded rally and the troopers were gone, riding away, as Daniel Robbins of the 7th Illinois Cavalry described it, “to the music of secesh shells bursting in a yankee bonfire.” With their main objective behind them, surely some of Grierson’s troopers wondered where in the world they were going next. To their surprise, the head of the column was moving south.25
***
The destructive work inflicted upon Newton Station on April 24 accomplished the dual goal of diversion and destruction in just a few hours. For the past week Grierson had ridden south as stealthily as possible, doing as little as he could to call attention to himself. When necessary, he had used detachments to confuse the enemy and achieve other smaller goals. Once he reached the Southern Railroad of Mississippi and Newton Station, however, all bets were off. His destruction of the railroad, cars, locomotives, telegraph, and bridges sent a shock wave through the region and alerted the Confederate high command as to precisely where he was. Now that his work was done, Grierson had to escape his vulnerable position deep behind enemy lines. In order to accomplish that, he would have to disappear once again.26
Fortunately for the Federal raiders, the Confederate leaders assumed he would turn north and retrace his steps back to Tennessee by following the same way he had entered the state. The smaller detachments, as well as Hatch’s Iowans, had done exactly that. Likely, many of Grierson’s troopers thought the same thing. In truth, Grierson had yet to make up his mind on the route he would take to escape what would soon be a closing enemy trap. “Having damaged as much as possible the railroad and telegraph, and destroyed all Government property in the vicinity of Newton,” Grierson wrote, “I moved about four miles south of the road and fed men and horses. The forced marches which I was compelled to make in order to reach this point successfully, necessarily very much fatigued and exhausted my command, and rest and food were absolutely necessary for its safety.”27
There was little time to rest. “From captured mails and information obtained by my scouts,” explained the Federal commander, “I knew that large forces had been sent out to intercept our return.” The time to make one of the major decisions of the campaign had arrived: Which way should he go? General Hurlbut had counseled riding east and then north to return through Alabama. General Smith, however, left the escape route to Grierson. His last orders to the raider were to “move in any direction from this point which, in my judgment, would be best for the safety of my command and the success of the expedition.” Grierson was in a much better position to determine the best route of escape than any general hundreds of miles away.28
Grierson had several options from which to choose. He could follow Hurlbut’s advice and move east by northeast in a large circle through Alabama or he could keep his column moving south toward Union-held territory, his most likely objective being Baton Rouge, Louisiana. A third possibility, and one that would give him additional chances to damage the state’s infrastructure, was to move west toward Grant’s anticipated crossing point of the Mississippi River. At no time, however, did he give serious consideration to returning north along the same route he used to get to Newton Station.29
Each choice posed a unique set of problems. Circling through Alabama would entice numerous Confederate commands into action against him, including Nathan Bedford Forrest, whose cavalry was even then chasing Abel Streight’s mule-mounted raiders across the northwestern part of the state. Moving south to Baton Rouge was similarly risky. It was a much longer route, and Confederates in and around Port Hudson might take the opportunity to move against him. Riding west toward Grant was perhaps the most dangerous choice of all. There were far more Confederates in the Vicksburg and Jackson areas than anywhere else in the state, so the decision to make for the Mississippi River meant riding into the enemy’s strength. Meeting up with Grant’s army as quickly as possible was an absolute priority, but there was always the chance that Grant might not cross the Mississippi River at all or that his crossing might be delayed for unforeseen reasons.30
Grierson decided to take some time to decide on his proper course of action. His men and horses were tired, and several small detachments were operating apart from the main body, most notably Starr’s battalion against the Chunkey River bridges. When Starr and his men returned, they arrived armed with invigorating news. According to the major, he had “destroyed most effectually three bridges and several hundred feet of trestle-work, and the telegraph from 8 to 10 miles east of Newton Station.”31
Grierson spent the next three hours pondering his choices before finally deciding to move south, keeping his options open as to whether he would turn west to connect with Grant or move on to Baton Rouge. Circling through Alabama seemed too difficult, but Grierson did not completely close off that option. If he met too much resistance in the south, he could always turn back east and then north. Accordingly, late on the afternoon of April 24, he put his regiments on the road south toward Garlandville while hinting to the Confederates that he might be heading east.32
If Grierson did not expect to meet substantial opposition from the Confederates that day, he was right. If he did not expect to meet any resistance at all, he was greatly mistaken.
***
The troopers passed throngs of civilians on the road leading south from Newton Station. “We overtook quite a number of citizens who were fleeing from the Yankees,” was how Grierson put it, “having with them only such things as they most valued, fearing that they would be robbed.” He took special care to assure these people that they would not be harmed and told them to “return to their homes; that they would not be molested. Nothing whatever was taken from them,” he pointed out. “Of course, they were greatly astonished at such kind treatment when they had been led to believe that they would be mistreated, insulted, beaten, and even murdered on sight by the so-called villainous Yankees.”33
Despite the good treatment meted out to the civilians along the route, Garlandville’s residents had either not heard of the kind treatment or simply did not believe it. The town was eight miles below Newton, recalled Adjutant Woodward, “a pretty, quiet village, in the midst of a beautiful country.” To Grierson’s amazement, the citizens were waiting for the Union cavalrymen. Woodward described the scratch force as “old, grey-haired men, beyond the age for conscription.” Word of Grierson’s attack against Newton had spread, and the townspeople, true citizen-soldiers, were ready to defend their beloved village.34
“We found the citizens, many of them venerable with age, armed with shot-guns and organized to resist our approach,” reported Grierson. In a bid to test their mettle, he sent an advance group into town and quickly learned they meant business. The Mississippians opened fire on the cautiously advancing troopers, wounding one Illinoisan and a horse. That was enough to convince Grierson they were serious about defending their town with lethal force, but they were still nothing more than armed citizens. He ordered his men to charge, and the Illinois troopers bolted down the main road. As Grierson suspected, the defense evaporated. “We charged upon them and captured several,” he confirmed.35
; In a display of mercy, the Federal brigade commander disarmed them and “showed them the folly of their actions, and, released them.” Woodward remembered that the “only house subjected to search was the post office.” Many Confederates thought the enemy would burn and pillage the place, with one slave going so far as to beg the soldiers from atop a porch not to burn “Mars Bonner’s” house. When it became obvious to the citizens of Garlandville the raiders intended them no harm, “without an exception they acknowledged their mistake, and declared that they had been grossly deceived as to our real character.” One resident even volunteered to act as a guide to help extricate the isolated Union brigade from the fix into which it had voluntarily ridden.36
The surprising episode at Garlandville would replay itself elsewhere in a phenomenon that was growing in this section of the state. At this point in the war, Mississippi was no longer the bastion of Confederate patriotism it had once been. If the heart of the resistance to the Southern Confederacy was in middle and southern Mississippi (which included Jones County, known as the Free State of Jones), it was no longer confined to that lone county. The Free State of Jones and its supposed secession gets most of the attention, but the movement was taking place farther north in the delta region as well as to the south along the Pearl River. It was also evident in the area Grierson was now entering. Exhaustion with the war effort and its accompanying change of heart became evident when, after learning the riders were Federals, a group of women retrieved a hidden United States flag. According to trooper Richard W. Surby, the women “soon displayed to us a good sized flag, representing that good old flag for which we were fighting.”37
Newton Station was in southern Newton County, so Grierson had crossed into Jasper County by the time he reached Garlandville. Jones County was below Jasper, and Confederate disloyalty had seeped its way northward, as it had to the surrounding counties, such as Smith County just to the west. Grierson later explained that the Union raid through these counties unleashed a groundswell of support that was otherwise lurking just beneath the surface. “Hundreds who are sulking and hiding out to avoid conscription,” he explained, “only await the presence of our arms to sustain them, when they will rise up and declare their principles; and thousands who have been deceived, upon the vindication of our cause would ultimately return to loyalty.” As it turned out, Grierson’s prediction would come true.38
Of course, not everyone was a Union sympathizer or had turned their back on the Confederacy. One family near Garlandville wanted nothing to do with the Federals and was perhaps frightened by rumors of destruction and pillage. Grierson’s adjutant, Samuel Woodward, came across a “pretty little house almost hidden by foliage,” with the lamps burning brightly. When no one replied to his knocks, he entered and found “supper on the table, the corn bread actually steaming hot from the stove, and everything else correspondingly fresh.” Woodward called for the owners, but no one appeared, and his quick search failed to turn up anyone. The adjutant knew a good thing when he saw it and called for his commander “to observe the condition of affairs.” Grierson agreed with Woodward that there was no use in wasting such delicacies. “Having a very decided relish for such savory food,” Grierson remembered, “we could not resist the temptation and sat down to the table and ate the supper at our ease.” Perhaps feeling a little guilty, he added, “We never learned for whom it was prepared.” Grierson and Woodward left a note “on the table, expressing thanks for the hospitality.”39
Grierson took only as long as was required in Garlandville and moved on only “after such delay as was deemed advisable.” The colonel pointed his troopers west and continued his trek, knowing he would soon have to make camp. April 24 had been yet another exhausting day. The adrenaline-fueled raiders had achieved a major part of the raid’s goal by damaging the railroad at Newton Station, but now they needed rest. Grierson rode his men another 10 miles through the small hamlet of Montrose and to a plantation a couple miles farther west.40
Griffin M. Bender’s plantation ran along Tallahala Creek, and it was there the tired Illinoisans finally unsaddled, took care of their mounts, and rested. One Illinois trooper recalled that it was 11:00 p.m. before they made camp, “and for the first time in forty hours did we take off our saddles from our weary horses.” Fortunately, the plantation provided everything the raiders needed. Bender, a 69-year-old native of Georgia, was one of the richest men in the area. The 1860 census estimated the value of his real estate at $93,700 and his personal net worth at $172,800. A large portion of his wealth was tied up in his 41 slaves, which was a large number in this section of Mississippi. One county newspaper, the Paulding Clarion, reported that the Illinoisans “took all Mr. Bender’s mules and two of his Negroes, and consumed a large amount of his corn and meat.” The paper also reported some Federal compassion, noting that Colonel Prince signed a receipt “for three thousand rations of meat and forage.”41
What they did not get was Bender’s gold. The owner watched from his house as the Federals arrived, holding in his hands a bag of gold. When he realized they were going to not only invade his plantation but his house as well, he tossed the bag out the window to a slave, who dashed away with it. Once Grierson’s men left, the slave returned with the gold, safe and sound.42
***
There was no corresponding rest for the Confederates, who by this time were abuzz with activity at the alarming news filtering out of Newton Station. Something had to be done to stop the invaders, but the Confederates were slow to respond. Unbeknownst to Grierson, he had penetrated another hollow Confederate defense shield, behind which there was nothing available to prevent further rampages. Grant had discovered as much earlier in the war when the Federals broke through at Forts Henry and Donelson. Once those barriers fell, there were few Confederate forces in place to keep Grant’s army from moving all the way down into the cotton states of Mississippi and Alabama. Similarly, Grierson had found that the Confederate defensive veneer in northern Mississippi was thin to the point of worthlessness. He was able to push rapidly through it and on south while most Confederate assets in northern Mississippi chased Hatch’s Iowans. The result was an undisputed path straight to the Southern Railroad of Mississippi at Newton Station.43
Despite the critical importance of that railroad, the Confederate high command failed to allocate many resources to defend it. Most of the few Confederate units operating in the area were infantry, which was all but useless against a cavalry raid, unless the troopers attacked a garrisoned post. Most of the Confederate defensive effort was on the western flank along the Mississippi River, not the interior of the state, which appeared safe from Union arms. Because of the obvious threat looming from Grant’s semiconcentrated army in Louisiana opposite Vicksburg, however, Pemberton had little choice but to keep the bulk of his forces in that area. In fact, four of the five divisions that would eventually join Pemberton to defend Vicksburg manned the Mississippi River line or its extension along the Yazoo River. Divisions under John H. Forney and Martin L. Smith held the northern extremities along the Yazoo River at Haynes’ Bluff and Chickasaw Bayou, which was where Sherman would soon make a feint in a further attempt at operational diversion. Carter Stevenson’s large division held the Vicksburg and Warrenton areas, and John S. Bowen’s smaller division defended the Mississippi River line south to Grand Gulf. This westward orientation illustrates where Pemberton believed the biggest threat to Vicksburg rested. His bet, however, left much of the rest of Mississippi an empty shell.44
With four Confederate divisions watching the Mississippi River line, only one division was available for use elsewhere. The division that would eventually become Maj. Gen. William W. Loring’s was strung out along the Southern Railroad of Mississippi at Jackson and Meridian, though not in any major strength at Newton Station. Loring, an experienced soldier who had lost an arm in the war with Mexico, made his headquarters at Meridian. A portion of his force there, including a brigade under Brig. Gen. Abraham Buford, defended the important area north an
d south of the city, with some elements now as far north as Macon. To the east at Jackson was Brig. Gen. John Adams with several Mississippi regiments. Brigadier General Lloyd Tilghman’s brigade, farther north along the Mississippi Central at Canton, had recently played a heavy role in repelling the Yazoo Pass expedition and Frederick Steele’s Greenville incursion. The result was that most of the available cavalry was operating with the bulk of the army along the Mississippi River or in northern Mississippi.45
As a result, when a heavy force of Union raiders suddenly appeared deep within the state, confusion spread and the Confederate response was understandably slow. “The reports of the enemy’s operations are very conflicting,” admitted General Loring. The slow pace at which Loring’s infantry could react vexed the officer. The best way to utilize their strength was to move them quickly by rail to where they could perform worthwhile service. And the Confederates did just that, shipping infantry units on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad to defend the critical bridges south of Meridian.46
The wires went dead early on the morning of April 24, and it was not until well into that day that the Confederates were able to construct a reasonable guess as to what the Union raiders were up to. After sifting through conflicting reports, Pemberton began sending troops toward the obvious crisis area. Most of the reinforcements were infantry, because as he freely admitted, “I have no cavalry of importance to operate against the Newton Station party.” He told Governor Pettus the same thing, emphasizing that he had a “very inadequate force of cavalry in this department to successfully repel the heavy raids of the enemy now in operation.” Pemberton called on Pettus to form citizens into military units to defend local towns and to supply horses to mount a credible pursuit. “I have the honor to call upon you to exercise the right vested in you by the Legislature of Mississippi,” urged Pemberton, “and to seize or impress the requisite number of animals.” Doing, so, however, would take time, and that was something Pemberton did not have. Hoping Pettus would act quickly, he shifted what little cavalry he had by ordering James Chalmers to ride his troopers east toward Okolona from northwestern Mississippi, “to intercept force of enemy now at Newton, on Southern Road.” Chalmers acknowledged his orders, reported a new Federal threat in his area, and requested permission to leave one regiment in place “until my stores are removed.”47
The Real Horse Soldiers Page 22
