SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG.
MEANWHILE the siege was prosecuted with vigor; no let up. Night and day the steady pounding of the artillery went on, and the bomb shells sailed up in flocks from the mortar fleet on the Mississippi. General Grant daily watched and directed the work of his mighty army, and knew the great fortress was surely crumbling. Often during those long hot days of June, I saw General Grant, perhaps attended by one or two orderlies, worming his quiet way through and along our trenches, carefully noting all the operations of our forces. None but those who personally knew him would have recognized in that stubby form, with its dusty blue blouse, the great General whose mighty genius was running the whole job. Our forces had erected in our lines a skeleton framed observatory, which those properly authorized and who knew how to safely mount it often ascended, and with their field glasses made observations of the enemy's works. In order to keep the common soldiers and citizens from getting shot by the enemy's sharpshooters, a guard was stationed at its base to warn and compel people to keep down, but there was so little for this guard to do that he got careless. One day in the midst of his carelessness and inattention he happened to look up at the observatory, and there at the very top stood a soldier. The guard was mad, and loudly and profanely commanded the intruder to come down. He said, "What you doing up there?" No answer. "You come down out of that, you fool; you'll get shot." No answer. "If you don't come down, I'll shoot you myself." Then the soldier slowly and deliberately descended to the ground, pretty vigorously cursed by the guard and relegated to the fiery regions, as he descended, and as the supposed trespasser when he reached the ground, started away, a comrade said to the guard, "You've played thunder, I must say." "What have I done?" said the other. "You've been cussing General Grant black and blue." "You don't say," said the frightened guard, "I didn't know it was him. I will apologize," and he ran after and caught up with the General and said, "I hope you will pardon what I said, General. I didn't know you." "All right, my boy," said Grant, "but you must watch closely or some one will get shot there."
When our division commander, Frank P. Blair, went along our lines, unlike Grant, he was usually attended by his whole staff and an escort of hundreds of cavalry, and the dust they kicked up enshrouded half of Vicksburg.
As soon as July 1st we began to hear rumors of preparations in progress to assault the rebel works again on the 4th of July, if the place was not sooner surrendered. There was no denying the fact, Joe Johnson had a tremendous big force in our rear and might actually take a notion to attack us, and the boys were getting tired of digging rifle pits. We had all welcomed the rumor of another contemplated assault on the 4th, but General Pemberton himself forestalled our calculations. Early on the 3rd the rebels sent a white flag outside of their works and the rebel General Bowen bore it to our lines. The news spread through our midst like wild fire, and we had little doubt it had something to do with the surrender of the post. The bearer of this flag of truce was the bearer of a letter from Pemberton directed to General Grant, in which he proposed the appointment of three commissioners by him to meet a like number from Grant to arrange terms for the capitulation of Vicksburg.
General Grant wrote an answer to Pemberton, in which he offered to meet him between the lines to arrange such terms, but declined the appointment of commissioners as Pemberton proposed. We, who occupied our advance rifle pits, climbed up on the edges and while we dangled our feet down in the holes sat up straight and looked the Johnnies square in their faces as they popped up above their works. It all looked and seemed so funny to see the widespread resurrection of both Yanks and rebs. In many places the opposing lines of pits were so close together that conversation was carried on between us and the foemen during the armistice. An old grizzly reb straightened up out of a nearby pit. He sported long, gray Billy goat whiskers and his shaggy eyebrows looked like patches of hedge rows. Just opposite him on our side another old graybeard stood up in his pit and the two old warriors surveyed each other for several minutes; then old Johnnie said, "Hello, you over thar!" "Hello yourself," said old Yank. "Is that your hole your stan'nen in over thar?" said Johnnie. "I reckon," said Yank. "Wal, don't you know Mister, I've had some tarned good shots at you?" "I reckon," said Yank, "but s'pose ye hain't noticed no lead slung over thar nor nothin'?" "Yes," said Johnnie, "you spattered some dirt in my eyes now 'n' then." "So'd you mine," said Yank. And in that strain those two old veterans talked and laughed from their respective roosts as though trying to shoot each other was the funniest thing in the world. About 3 o'clock that afternoon we saw some Union officers go out of our lines and part way over to the rebel works sit down under a tree on the grass.
We afterwards learned those men were Grant, Rowlins, Logan, McPherson and A. J. Smith. A short time afterwards some men in gray uniform came out of the rebel works and met our men under the tree. Those men were Pemberton, Bowen and a staff officer, we also learned afterward. I was so far from them that I could not discern their features and could hardly tell their uniforms, but I watched as did thousands of our men with intense interest that long parleying, under that distant tree, until the conference broke up and the parties returned to their respective commands. That night we knew the city had virtually capitulated and only awaited the settlement of terms.
On the 4th of July at 10 o'clock a. m. the Confederate forces marched out in front of their works, stacked their arms, hung upon them all accouterments and laid their faded flags on top of all. It was one of the saddest sights I ever beheld, and I can honestly say I pitied those brave men from the bottom of my heart. Our brave fellows, though, never uttered a shout of exultation during the whole ceremony of surrender. We marched into the city afterwards that day, raised the flag upon the court house and gave ourselves a general airing in Vicksburg. As our forces marched through the town the rebel women scowled, made faces and spit at us, but we survived it all and kept good natured. One fat old colored woman was just jumping up and down for joy, and she cried out as we marched by, "Heah day come. Heah day is. Jes' you look at 'em, none your little yaller faced sickly fellers, but full grown men, wid blood in 'em," etc., etc. I saw many Union men and Confederates walking and conversing together, but the rebel officers generally held aloof and acted as though they were miffed at something.
There were surrendered in men that day 15 generals, 31,000 soldiers, 172 cannon.
After the surrender I went over their works and fields. I saw the great holes in the ground where our bomb shells had exploded, big enough to contain a two-story building. I saw caves in the hillsides where people had lived during the siege. I saw the ground in places so littered with shot and unexploded shells from our batteries that it was difficult to walk without stepping on them. I saw the trees, many of them, actually girdled by our shot. I picked up one little shell and thought I would take it home with me as a relic. It looked like a mammoth butterfly egg, but it was heavy and had a sinister complexion. Many of our men were injured by those shells, in picking them up and dropping them carelessly onto their percussion points, and so I improved the opportunity one day to give mine to a relic hunter. After the surrender my regiment was moved from the mouth of the Yazoo up onto the Vicksburg hill, but we failed to recover our health. Our men were dying daily, and finally we were ordered to Corinth, Mississippi July 29th, and embarked on transport "Silver Wave" for our new destination, the well men in the regiment not being sufficient and able to care for the sick.