Dixie Victorious: An Alternate history of the Civil War
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On May 2 Pemberton began to send some reinforcements south to join Bowen. But a sense of pessimism seemed to enter his thinking. He ordered Vicksburg prepared for a siege and advised Mississippi Governor John Pettus to “remove the State archives from Jackson.”29 Pettus, in turn, frantically telegraphed Jefferson Davis to report that Pemberton had lost his nerve and unless an immediate command change took place, all was lost.
Jefferson Davis found himself in a not unfamiliar position. Time and again, politicians had complained that their constituents were being ill-served by the generals in command. Often they demanded that Davis make command changes. In Davis’s mind, Pemberton was merely the latest in a list that at various times had included Robert E. Lee, Thomas Jackson, Braxton Bragg, and even Sidney Johnston himself. Davis had stood by his selections and they, in turn, with the possible exception of Bragg, had rewarded his patience and loyalty with victories.
Davis considered patience and loyalty admirable virtues, particularly for a commander-in-chief of a beleaguered nation. He was certain that these virtues had been key to victory in the First American Revolution and had no doubt that they would be equally crucial to Confederate victory in the Second American Revolution. Moreover, to relieve Pemberton at this moment of crisis would be to admit publicly that Pemberton’s selection had been a mistake. This he was extremely loath to do.
But Davis also understood what was at stake. If Grant succeeded, the Confederacy would be divided in two, the hungry armies of the east forever cut off from the cattle and corn, the hogs and the horses of the fertile trans-Mississippi. The loss of Vicksburg could well be a fatal blow.30
For several hours the president paced back and forth in his office at the White House of the Confederacy. His inner struggle was monumental because he knew that the decision he had to make was of immense strategic consequence. His already pale face—Davis was sick with bronchitis—gained an even more ghastly, sunken appearance as the strain brought the onset of another painful bout of neuralgia. He knew that Joe Johnston, the nominal supreme commander in the West, was making leisurely progress toward Vicksburg, presumably to take field command, but he also knew that Johnston’s preferred maneuver was the strategic retreat. Davis could conceive of only one possible alternative to Pemberton; namely, to send Lee west. Yet he knew both that Lee would resist transfer and that Lee’s absence would leave the Confederate capital vulnerable. He had just about resolved to retain Pemberton when an aide knocked at his office door.
The aide’s eyes were shining with excitement as he handed Davis a just-arrived telegram. It was from Albert Sidney Johnston and read: “I learn that the enemy is on this side of the river. I wish to report for duty, whether as a simple private carrying a musket or in any other capacity you deem appropriate.”31
It was as if a bracing breeze had blown away the rain clouds that had deluged Richmond for the past several days. Davis began dictating orders: Sidney Johnston to take command of all field troops operating around Vicksburg with the mission of driving Grant into the Mississippi; Pemberton to remain in command at Vicksburg to defend the Confederate citadel against direct attack while assisting Johnston by forwarding men and supplies. The president completed his flurry of orders by telling Beauregard in Charleston, South Carolina, to send 5,000 men west to Jackson, Mississippi. As he completed his work, Davis found, to his surprise, that the sharp pain of his neuralgia had receded into a mere dull ache.
Johnston Takes Command
Sidney Johnston had failed to mention to Davis that Doctor Yandell still forbade him to ride a horse for any extended time. So it was a plantation carnage that delivered Johnston to Major General William Loring’s headquarters on the north side of the Big Black River just after dawn on May 3. Johnston mounted the steps of the McCleod mansion and paused on the veranda. From within he heard the heated sounds of argument. Apparently there was some sort of council of war taking place. He heard a voice trying to overmaster the angry buzz of debate: “Gentlemen, I repeat, shall the army move with dispatch to Vicksburg or shall it hold the Big Black?”32
He recognized General Bowen’s voice in reply:
“General Loring. We have my two fine brigades on the enemy side of the river along with Reynolds’s fresh Tennessee Brigade. On this side we have the two brigades you have brought us with Barton and Taylor coming up fast. This gives us more than 16,000 men. My scouts tell me that we face McPherson’s XVII Corps, that it is unsupported, and that it is strung out in road column. I say attack!”
Johnston nodded approvingly and smiled. His smile turned to a frown when Loring spoke again:
“General Bowen, we all applaud your fighting instincts, but my hands are tied. My orders from General Pemberton are to be on the lookout for your division and, if necessary, to fall back across Big Black. I have found you and your men and now we will…”
Sidney Johnston strode into the room and completed Loring’s sentence, “Attack!”
Loring began to sputter but Johnston brusquely cut him off:
“Gentlemen, the time for debate is over. I have here orders from the President assigning me command of all troops in the field. We will attack immediately. I do not know the relative numbers but I know that on these narrow roads they cannot put more men at the front than we can. Besides, I would fight them if they were a million!”33
Johnston’s words electrified the Confederate generals. With the exception of Loring, they responded with deep approval. Then they rose as one to shake hands with the new army commander.
The Battle of Hankinson’s Ferry
On the day after his victory at Port Gibson, General Grant pushed his army hard. He believed that he had the Rebels off balance and confused, and wanted to exploit the situation. The first obstacle to surmount was the Little Bayou Pierre. His engineers worked feverishly during the morning to construct a 12-foot wide, 166-foot long bridge using timbers taken from a nearby cotton gin. They corduroyed the bridge approaches over a dangerous patch of quicksand and announced the bridge practicable. From start to finish the entire operation required a mere four hours, which was good, because Grant was in a big hurry. As the first Union infantry approached the bridge, there was their general to urge them on: “Men, push right along; close up fast, and hurry on.”34
The North Fork of Bayou Pierre presented a more substantial barrier. Grant hoped that his men could capture the suspension bridge at Grindstone Ford. By 7.30 p.m. his hard-marching men reached the ford only to see that the bridge was on fire. An energetic engineering officer, Colonel James Wilson, ordered the infantry to extinguish the blaze. In the fading light Wilson observed that enough of the bridge’s original structure remained to serve as a foundation for a new bridge. During a dark, stormy night, Union pioneers salvaged timbers and beams, lashed them to the suspension rods with telegraph wire, and rebuilt the bridge. By dawn, May 3, the bridge was ready for the infantry.
Only one more significant natural barrier, Big Black River, stood between Grant’s Army of the Tennessee and Vicksburg. The aggressive General John Logan’s division spearheaded the drive toward this river. In the unlikely event Logan faltered, McPherson accompanied the division. Together, the two officers drove the men hard. McPherson hoped that if his men marched fast enough they could cut off any Confederates trying to escape back to Vicksburg. McPherson also hoped to capture the Hankinson’s Ferry bridge intact in order to secure a bridgehead over the Big Black.
Around 10.00 a.m. the leading Union regiment encountered what appeared to be a Rebel roadblock just south of Willow Springs. McPherson ordered an aide to ride to a nearby plantation and bring back someone to interrogate. The plantation owner, an elegant, garrulous fellow named Reinertsen, assured McPherson that nearly all the Confederate troops had retired across the Big Black. Meanwhile, Logan ordered the van regiment, the 20th Ohio, to double-time ahead along with De Golyer’s 8th Michigan Battery. The battery galloped into position, unlimbered, and prepared to lay down a covering barrage. The panting Ohio infantry arrive
d. One of the men spotted Logan and called out, “Shall we not unsling our knapsacks?”
“No!” Logan snarled. “Damn them, you can whip them with your knapsacks on!”35 Inspired by Logan’s stern words, the 20th Ohio advanced to storm the roadblock.
Whether Logan and McPherson should be faulted for their impetuosity is difficult to say. Since neither general survived the battle, we cannot know exactly what they thought they saw. What seems certain is that their hasty reconnaissance failed to detect the presence of a formidable, and rapidly increasing foe.
The Confederates manning the roadblock itself belonged to Colonel A.E. Reynolds’s 26th Mississippi Infantry. Concealed in the nearby trees were four guns belonging to Lieutenant Culbertson’s Company C, 14th Mississippi Artillery Battalion. Initially, Reynolds’s orders were merely to fight a rearguard action; force the enemy to deploy and then retire without risking too much. But 30 minutes before the Yankees appeared, a sweat-stained horse and rider appeared to deliver new orders: Reynolds was to defend his position to the last man! Reynolds read the dispatch and his face turned ashen. The courier grinned and told him not to worry. Reinforcements were coming up fast led by Albert Sidney Johnston himself. Which part of this intelligence shocked Reynolds most also cannot be determined because the Mississippi colonel was another who did not survive the battle.
Reynolds mounted an overturned plantation buggy that formed part of the roadblock and addressed his men. In part he predicted that the Rebels “would run Grant and his boys back over ole Mississippi before they knew what had hit them.”36 The cheering had not yet subsided when the first shells from De Golyer’s 8th Michigan Battery burst around the roadblock. A large metal fragment from a 6-pounder James rifle shell tore off the colonel’s arm and inflicted a mortal wound.
Hard on the heels of the deadly shelling came the 20th Ohio. Colonel Manning Force led his Buckeyes forward. When they came within 200 yards of the roadblock, the heretofore unseen Mississippi artillery opened fire. The battery’s single 3-inch rifle fired at the Michigan artillery in an effort to divert their all too effective barrage. Meanwhile, two 6-pounder smoothbores and a single 12-pounder howitzer flailed the blue-coated infantry with canister.
Although surprised to receive fire from the masked battery, the veteran Ohio infantry closed ranks and pressed on. They endured two volleys from the defenders behind the roadblock but the fire from the Mississippi infantry was ragged; apparently the 26th Mississippi was unnerved by the fall of its colonel. The Buckeyes lowered bayonets and charged home. Manning Force himself mounted the carriage where Reynolds had fallen, stabbed a Rebel color-bearer with his sword, and seized the flag with an exultant scream. The defenders broke toward the rear and the Ohio infantry surged over and through the roadblock, scooping up prisoners as well as the Mississippians’ state colors. This charge proved to be the high water mark for the Army of the Tennessee.
Sidney Johnston had had little time to organize an offensive. His plan was not subtle: his 16,000 soldiers would cross Hankinson’s Ferry and attack the enemy where found. His objective was to drive the Yankees back through Grindstone Ford. Johnston placed his trust in the combination of surprise and superior numbers. He was, however, able to ensure that the first Confederates who arrived to support Reynolds’s Mississippians were the best fighters in his army—Colonel Francis Cockrell’s Missouri Brigade.
As Cockrell’s men swept forward at the double they passed a farmhouse and heard the sound of female voices singing Dixie. Glancing over, they saw a group of ladies singing and cheering to encourage their heroes. Cockrell, looking like a quintessential Southern cavalier, held his reins and a magnolia blossom in one hand and his sword in the other. He flourished his sword in salute to the patriotic ladies and then pointed his weapon at the enemy. Nearby, Private John Dale of the 5 th Missouri leaped over a rail fence and ran forward while screaming, “Come on Company I, we can whip the Goddamn Yankee sons-of-bitches!”37
The initial Confederate onslaught recaptured the barricade and broke the second Union line as well. “Black Jack” Logan galloped forward to rally his men. He rose in his stirrups and shouted, “We must whip them here or all go under the sod together. Give ’em hell.” The Missouri battery supporting Cockrell’s brigade targeted Logan’s line. A shell from one of its 10-pounder Parrott rifles decapitated the Union general, catapulting his lifeless body to the ground like a dancing marionette whose strings had been severed.
Logan’s sudden death shocked the Yankees. But it was the unexpected sight of Cockrell’s wildmen, shrieking like banshees and coming closer with every step, that unnerved the Union men. They broke before contact. Confederate Sergeant William Ruyle described the ensuing charge: “We gave them the Missouri yell… and gave them a charge in Missouri REBEL style. We routed them and took after them.”38
The Union collapse occurred so fast that the supporting brigade hardly had time to deploy before ittoo faced Cockrell’s furious charge. Like Logan, young General McPherson understood that the crisis was at hand. Unlike Logan, he did not use profanity. As he tried to steady his men he called out, “Give them Jesse boys, give them Jesse.”39 Wearing his full dress uniform, riding a superb black horse, McPherson exposed himself recklessly. He made an unmistakable target and died outright when a Confederate marksman shot him through the lower back. The bullet’s trajectory tore upward toward the heart. McPherson toppled from the saddle.
The surging Rebels found an orderly cradling the general’s head in his lap. “Who is lying there” an Arkansas captain inquired. The orderly replied, “Sir it is General McPherson. You have killed the best man in our army.”40
The deaths of two popular and charismatic leaders demoralized the XVII Corps. The corps was strung out in road column and ill-prepared for combat. In the absence of both corps and divisional commanders, no one seemed to take charge. The first inkling most men had that the enemy was near came when demoralized soldiers ran by them crying out, “Logan is down!” or “McPherson has fallen!” For the remainder of the afternoon the Union soldiers concentrated on escaping to safety over Grindstone Ford.
The day ended with the XVII Corps fleeing over the ford, having lost some 3,200 men including its two best known generals. As had been the case at Fort Donelson and Shiloh, the Rebel attack had found the Union army commander far from the scene of action. Grant had spent the day at Grand Gulf where he conferred with Admiral Porter and worked to unclog his line of communications. In part because McPherson’s death had plunged the staff into confusion, Grant did not learn of the debacle at Hankinson’s Ferry until early evening. He responded to the grim news in characteristic fashion by summoning all available manpower to support his wounded field army. Sherman’s corps was still marching south through the Louisiana bayous on the far side of the Mississippi. Grant’s dispatch to Sherman candidly related the day’s news. He ordered Sherman to accelerate his march and ended by saying, “It is unnecessary for me to remind you of the overwhelming importance of celerity in your movements.”41
As Grant prepared to gallop off to rejoin his army, Admiral Porter cornered John Rawlins, Grant’s chief of staff, to learn the news. In Porter’s mind it could hardly be worse. His fleet lay trapped between two fortified rebel citadels: Vicksburg to the north and Port Hudson to the south. The army held an unsecure bridgehead at the end of a precarious line of communications stretching back to Milliken’s Bend. Its back was against the continent’s greatest river while somewhere to the front was a hungry enemy closing in for the kill. Porter summoned his steward for a glass of naval rum. After Grant and his staff departed, the admiral began preparing his ironclads and transports to ferry the army back over the Mississippi just in case it all went wrong.
The Second Battle of Port Gibson
That evening, the elated Confederate army celebrated its victory in style. The soldiers were in fine spirits, eager to come to grips again with the invaders. A Tennessee lieutenant’s description of his comrades reveals the prevailing mood:
An exceedingly weary Sidney Johnston tried to focus on the myriad tasks that needed doing and discovered that he could not. Finally, he summoned Bowen to his headquarters. Bowen found Johnston lying down while an anxious Doctor Yandell applied a cold compress to his brow.
“My friend,” Johnston said:
“I need your help. Tomorrow, we will of course, attack. The enemy is off balance and brittle. If we hit them hard before they can get set, they will break. Before we attacked today I asked Pemberton to forward reinforcements. Most of the Vicksburg garrison should be here sometime tomorrow morning. I want you to act as my chief of staff. Send orders to all units en route and order them to force march through the night. Ten soldiers who arrive tomorrow are worth more than fifty who come the next day.”43
While Johnston rested, Bowen and a band of devoted staff officers worked tirelessly to assemble a fresh Confederate striking force. In truth, even Pemberton—always more comfortable directing affairs from a rear area headquarters—responded well to Johnston’s request for reinforcements. Loring’s and Stevenson’s complete divisions along with a brigade each from William Forney and Martin Smith arrived in time for battle. Even Wirt Adams’s Mississippi Cavalry abandoned their futile chase of Grierson’s raiders to complete a cross-country trek to join Johnston and be in at the kill.