Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 8.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

Defence of Vicksburg in 1862--the battle of Baton Rouge.

By Major John B. Pirtle.

[The Louisville Branch of the Southern Historical Society has been sustained with a good deal of spirit and interest. They hold regular meetings, and have had read before them a number of papers which deserve to be put in permanent form, and which the president, Major W. O. Dod, and the secretary, Major E. H. McDonald, have promised to send us. Our readers will thank us for giving this week the interesting and valuable paper read before the society by Major John B. Pirtle.]

The Army of Tennessee, under General Bragg, had been for several weeks encamped at and near Tupelo, Mississippi, and here on the night of the 18th of June, 1862, the reserve corps, as Breckinridge's division was called (this designation had been given it when the dispositions for the battle of Shiloh were made), received orders to be prepared to march at daylight the next morning. [325] Memphis was now in the possession of the enemy, and a heavy column of infantry and cavalry was menacing our railroad lines at Oxford and Grenada, where we had large quantities of army supplies. To protect these points, Breckinridge's division was detached from the army and marched across the country to the railroad near Abbeville, reaching there on the 22d of June. The enemy did not advance, as was expected, but returned to Memphis, and, after removing the supplies from Grenada, in obedience to orders from the Commanding-General, the division proceeded by railroad to Vicksburg, part of the command reaching there on the 29th, and the remainder on the 30th of June. In order that you may understand the situation at Vicksburg at this time, it will be necessary for me to digress a little.

After the capture of New Orleans, Major-General Lovel, who had been in command there, determined to make a defence at Vicksburg, and the patriotic people of that devoted city approved his determination, although they knew it might cause its destruction. Brigadier-General M. L. Smith, with a force of some 2,000 men, occupied the city, and proceeded to erect batteries for heavy guns on the bluffs which overlooked the river. Water batteries were also constructed and heavy guns put in position. The city was in a measure ready for defence before the enemy's fleet of gunboats, mortars and transports from New Orleans arrived below it.

When Breckinridge's command reached Vicksburg, the fleet.was in sight below the city, and in a few days the upper fleet from Vicksburg arrived. The Federals now had above and below the city more than forty gunboats, mortar-boats, rams and transports, besides an army. On the 2d of July the bombardment begun, and for over three weeks it was kept up without much intermission Our troops were placed in convenient positions to support the batteries, and proper dispositions were made to promptly repel any attack that might be made by a land force. Some of you who are present will remember the disagreeable nights spent in the railroad cut, the picket duty on the river front, and the march to Big bayou, on the Warrenton road, to meet an enemy “who was not,” the “Castle,” and the “Smede house.” You will remember, too, that because of the necessary exposure to which the troops were subjected, malarial disease abounded, filling the hospitals with fevered patients, so that in less than three weeks from the 30th of June nearly one-half of the defenders of Vicksburg were on the sick list. At the commencement of the bombardment many families were living at their homes in the city, and it is true that quite a [326] number remained throughout the siege. Although, when the enemy withdrew, hardly a house remained which had not been struck. There were very few casualties, as even thus early the people had dug caves in the sides of the hills; and, when the regular morning and afternoon shelling begun, they gathered their little ones in and remained in safety until there was a cessation. Often, on returning to their homes, they would find a ruthless enemy had been there. Perhaps it was the mother's room which the unfriendly shell, two feet long and a foot in diameter, had entered and destroyed, leaving nothing fit for further use, except the woodwork, which might do for kindling. I know of an instance, during one of the night bombardments, in which a large solid shot entered a room in which two children were sleeping, and, after passing through the bureau, struck the bed, tore out the foot-posts and passed out of the house. The bed was dropped to the floor, but the children, though much frightened, were unharmed. On one occasion, soon after the investment, a regiment which had been on picket duty along the river front, on being withdrawn, was marched along the road on the bluff down to the centre of the city and out the Jackson road to its camp. The movement was in full view of the enemy, and provoked a terrific fire. At first the range was bad, but before the regiment had got out of their reach the shells burst above and around it in a manner very unpleasant. Two men were struck by pieces of shell, one being killed. No more regiments were moved by daylight along that bluff. The spectacle during the night bombardments was grand. Such displays of pyrotechnics have rarely been seen. The graceful ascent of the bomb making its curve just before it reached the city, that it might explode over it; shells bursting here, there, everywhere; the lurid light of the mortar as the bomb was shot upward; the hisses and shrieks most unearthly of the “buggy wheels,” as the men called the long, conical shells, the noise of the batteries, the earth trembling, made impressions never to be effaced from the memory of those who were at Vicksburg during the summer of 1862. When at last the enemy, apparently tired out, would cease firing, the silence would seem strange.

The Yazoo river empties itself into the Mississippi at a point about twelve miles, I think, above Vicksburg. Up the Yazoo, on the approach of the fleet, had been run several steamboats and other crafts, which were protected by a ram called the Arkansas General Van Dorn, the Commanding-General at Vicksburg, believed this ironclad to be formidable enough to successfully attack the [327] whole upper fleet of the enemy, and he thought that if she could fight her way through that fleet and reach Vicksburg uninjured, it would demonstrate to the enemy the impossibility of their taking the city, for they then would be put on the defensive. He determined to make the venture, and Captain Brown, her commander, was ordered to bring her out into the Mississippi, and after sinking a boat in the Yazoo to prevent the enemy reaching our steamboats, let her drive right through the upper fleet. How well Captain Brown obeyed his instructions you all know. On the morning of the 15th of July, the cannoneers at the Vicksburg batteries discovered a commotion in the fleet above, and rapid firing was heard. There was a scattering of the groups of war vessels and transports, and soon from the midst of them, firing broadsides from all her port-holes, came riding down a queer-looking craft flying the Confederate flag. It was the Arkansas. She had run the gauntlet of the upper fleet, dealing death and destruction as she came. She had proved her offensive power, for she had inflicted much damage. A right royal welcome did she receive as she rounded to at the wharf, and right nobly had she earned it. Her injuries were slight, and soon repaired. Her casualties, if my memory serves correctly, were but seven--two killed and five wounded. Among her crew was a young man from this city named Gilmore. He had formerly been an officer in the First Kentucky infantry, a one-year regiment, which had been mustered out when its term of service expired. From the Kentucky brigades volunteers were accepted to fill the places of those who had been killed and wounded. About a week after this event, just about sunrise, the Essex, a formidable Federal ironclad, bore down on the Arkansas, but after a short fight withdrew. The evident intention was to fasten on to the Arkansas with grappling irons and then board her with a superior force, but the attempt failed, and the Essex lost a number of her crew killed The enemy, now apparently satisfied that Vicksburg was impregnable to his attack, seemed determined to destroy the city at any rate. The bombardment was more furious than ever for a few days, and then gradually ceased, and on the 27th of July the fleets which for nearly a month had day and night rained an iron hail upon the city, acknowledged defeat and steamed away. Not a gun in the batteries had been dismounted, and we had lost but twenty-two men killed and wounded. The successful defence of Vicksburg had been accomplished. Hardly had the enemy. disappeared, when orders were issued to Breckinridge's command to break up camp and proceed to the railroad and take the cars for Camp Moore. It [328] was rumored that a heavy force of the enemy from Baton Rouge was threatening that point, but the rumor proved unfounded. Camp Moore was on the New Orleans and Jackson railroad, near the little town of Tangipahea, some seventy or eighty miles above New Orleans. It was the place where the Louisiana regiments were organized, equipped and drilled at the beginning of the war. Breckinridge's command arrived at Camp Moore late in the afternoon of the 28th of July, and on the morning of the 30th it was put in motion toward Baton Rouge. At Camp Moore, Brigadier-General Daniel Ruggles with a small force joined us, and we numbered now about 4,000 men all told. The weather was itensely hot, and about one-third of the men were without shoes. Many had no coats. No baggage was allowed; each man carried his all on his back, and some were almost naked. Water along the line of march was very scarce; often it was ten to fifteen miles from one running stream to another, and no other water to be had. Sometimes we passed stagnant water, ponds on which the green scum lay thick. I saw many men drive off the scum with their hands and greedily drink that water. The fierce heat of the sun was reflected on the sandy road and made greater. Men sickened and fell out of the ranks every mile we marched, until at last, when we reached Comite river, about ten miles from Baton Rouge, there were not more than 2,600 men fit for duty. Here a day of needed rest was taken and the men given an opportunity to wash their ragged clothes. Here General Breckinridge made a stirring speech to the Kentuckians, beginning, “My brave, noble, ragged Kentuckians.” Before giving you an account of the battle of Baton Rouge, it is proper that I should tell you why we were sent to fight that battle, and the result it was hoped would be accomplished. Baton Rouge is one hundred and twenty miles above New Orleans, on the east side of the Mississippi, and forty miles above it Red river, which enters Western Louisiana near the Texas and Arkansas line, runs through and empties into the Mississippi. The mouth of Red river was blockaded. The Red river country, a rich agricultural region, not having been subjected to the ravages of war, was full of supplies much needed by the armies on the east side of the Mississippi, for the country on the east side had been pretty well drained of cattle, corn, forage, sugar, molasses and salt. There were many steamers in Red river ready to bring out supplies as soon as the blockade should be removed. At Baton Rouge was a force of the enemy, estimated at 4,000 to 5,000 strong, and four or five gunboats. If the enemy's forces at Baton Rouge could be captured, [329] the Mississippi would be open nearly to New Orleans, and the navigation of Red river secured. General Breckinridge was therefore ordered to make the attack, and the Arkansas was ordered to co-operate by engaging the gunboats, it being believed she could drive them off, or at least by occupying their entire attention, render them unable to give protection and assistance to the land forces. On the afternoon of the 4th of August, General Breckinridge, having learned by messenger that the Arkansas had passed Bayou Sara, and would be at hand ready to co-operate at daylight next morning, ordered one day's rations cooked, and at 11 o'clock that night the command started for Baton Rouge. It was a rather dark starlit night. The march was slow, frequent halts being made, so that the men might not be fatigued. General Ben Hardin Helm's Kentucky brigade was in advance, and about 3 o'clock in the morning, when about a mile and a half from the enemy, and during a halt, an unfortunate accident (if I may so call it) occurred. We had no information that any of our friends were in our front, and when suddenly there came galloping down on us at full speed what, from the noise made by the horses' hoofs, seemed to be a regiment of cavalry, we naturally supposed it was an attack of the enemy, and for a few moments considerable confusion ensued, the men scattering to the right and left of the road and opening fire on the supposed enemy. It was a body of partizan rangers or mounted home guards, who had managed to get through to the front, and which stampeded on being halted and fired on by the enemy's pickets. When order was restored it was found that Brigadier-General Helm had been seriously wounded, his horse having reared and fallen on him. His Aid-de-Camp, Lieutenant Alex. Todd, was killed, as were several of the men, and Lieutenant-Colonel Caldwell, of the Ninth Kentucky, and Captain Roberts, of the Fourth Kentucky, were wounded. Two of the three guns of Cobbs' battery were disabled.

It was now nearly day, and the dispositions for attack promptly made, the command taking position in a single line to the right and left of the Baton Rouge and Greenwell Springs road. While the line was forming we could distinctly hear the reveille of the enemy. A field band was playing the “Grand march from Norma,” and every note was borne clearly out to us in the still air of early morning. Soon the order to advance was given, and the troops moved rapidly forward through cornfields and gardens, over fences, around houses, quickly driving in the skirmishers and developing the enemy's line, behind which, when the fog cleared, we could [330] see a heavy reserve force. General Breckinridge had formed the command into two divisions, the left being placed under the command of Brigadier-General Daniel Ruggles, and the right under Brigadier-General Charles Clarke. The battle was opened by Ruggles' division; which encountered the enemy strongly posted in a wood in front of a regimental camp. Semmes' Louisiana battery, attached to this division, was splendidly managed, and fought well up with the infantry, using grape and canister at close quarters with fine effect. Clarke's division now closed in on the enemy, who found the fire too hot, and he slowly retired through the first encampment, taking position in front of the second encampment, and being reinforced by the reserves. Owing to the broken nature of the ground and the obstructions, the line had, in advancing, become considerably deranged and disconnected, but as soon as it was adjusted it was thrown forward on the forces posted in front of the second encampment. Here the first determined and obstinate resistance was met. The contest was warmly maintained for a considerable time, probably an hour, and our losses were heavy. Colonel Allen, one of Ruggles' brigadiers, was wounded, his brigade was repulsed and fell back in confusion. Colonel Thompson, commanding the other briggade of Ruggles' division, was wounded leading a charge. Colonel Thomas H. Hunt, who succeeded to the command of Helm's brigade when General Helm was disabled, was wounded, and many regimental and company officers killed and wounded. Inch by inch the enemy was driven back, and the left of the army had reached the second encampment, when suddenly the right began to fall back. It was said to be in obedience to General Clark's orders, and Colonel John A. Buckner, now in command of Helm's brigade, rode along his line directing his men to retire to a ravine a short distance in the rear, and form there. The order to retire was unexpected and not understood, and the movement was made in some disorder, but the men quickly rallied in the ravine. Just as the line fell back General Clarke was badly, and it was supposed mortally, wounded. The enemy did not follow, but took advantage of his opportunity to change his line somewhat, shortening it, and retiring his left to the woods in front of his third encampment. Clarke's division was now moved a short distance to the left, being joined on its left by Thompson's brigade of Ruggles' division. The whole line was moved forward across a road parallel with the river, and now became exposed to a sharp fire from the gunboats. The enemy was in front of the third encampment, which was in the edge of town and near the arsenal [331] General Breckinridge rode along the line and was greeted with enthusiasm. The men felt that the decisive moment had arrived, that victory was theirs. As the order “forward” was given, above the roar of the enemy's guns could be heard that clear, shrill, not-to-be-described cheer, called by the Federals the “Rebel yell.” On moved the line unchecked by the heavy fire it met, closer and closer it came, until it seemed that there would be work for the bayonet, when suddenly the Federal line broke, panic-stricken, and, in a confused mass, fled to the river, to the shelter and protection of the gunboats. General Breckinridge had been anxiously listening for the sound of the Arkansas' guns. It was now 10 o'clock. Had she done her part the enemy was ours. But the heavy fire from the gunborts on our position was evidence that she had not arrived. Orders were therefore given to burn the camps, and the command retired a short distance out of reach of the gunboat fire and remained waiting, anxiously waiting, for the Arkansas. Late in the afternoon news of her fate reached General Breckinridge,. and the little army moved back to its camp on Comite river. Just before daylight, when the Arkansas had reached a point some four miles above Baton Rouge, a serious break occurred in her machinery and her engine refused to work. Finding her drifting helplessly, her commander, Lieutenant Stevens, moved her to the shore and every e fort was made to repair the damage, but without success. In the meanwhile negroes had conveyed word to the enemy her whereabouts and her condition. An easy capture was anticipated, and two gunboats were sent to bring her in. But the Arkansas was not destined to become a trophy of her foes. General Van Dorn, in his report to the Secretary of War, described her destruction in language so graphic that I quote it here: “On the cautious approach of the enemy, who kept at a respectful distance, Lieutenant Stevens landed the crew, cut her from her moorings, fired her with his own hands, and turned her adrift down the river. With every gun shotted, our flag floating from her bow, and not a man on board, the Arkansas bore down upon the enemy and gave him battle. Her guns were discharged as the flames reached them, and when her last shot was fired the explosion of the magazine ended the brief but glorious career of the Arkansas. It was beautiful, said Lieutenant Stevens, while tears stood in his eyes, to see her when abandoned by commander and crew and dedicated to sacrifice, fighting the battle on her own hook.”

About a week after the battle, Baton Rouge was evacuated and the forces there returned to New Orleans. The Mississippi river [332] was now open nearly to New Orleans. Vast quantities of army supplies were brought from Red river and distributed from points on the east side of the Mississippi. Steamboat communication with the trans-Mississippi was re-established. Every result hoped for in the battle of Baton Rouge had been accomplished, save only the capture of the forces there.