This was in accordance with an order which General Sherman had received directing him to take his own corps, the Fifteenth, the Ninth Corps, to which was temporarily assigned General Smith's division of the Sixteenth Corps, and the Thirteenth Corps, now under General Ord, pursue Johnston, and capture or destroy his army. General Grant's order read as follows: "I want you to drive Johnston out in your own way, and inflict upon the enemy all the punishment you can. I will support you to the last man that can be spared."
Before ten o'clock A. M., July 4th, Sherman's army was in motion, and by various roads moving rapidly toward the Big Black river. Johnston, finding himself suddenly an object of particular interest, commenced a precipitate retreat toward Jackson, feebly disputing our advance in some places where the ground was favorable. Upon the receipt of marching orders the picket of the Thirty-sixth was hastily called in, and the regiment was soon on the march to overtake the brigade, which it did not do, however, until the next day.
A considerable part of the 6th was occupied by the regiment, and men of other regiments in the brigade, in constructing a bridge across the Big Black river at a place called Birdsongs Ferry. This was a good, strong piece of work, and over it a large part of the army passed in safety. General Ord's two divisions crossed at the railroad some distance below, and the Fifteenth Corps at Messenger's Bridge.
From the 4th to the 10th of July the army pushed steadily on, overcoming many obstacles, skirmishing sharply day and night with Johnston's rear guard, and encountering sufferings from the heat and exposure to sun and tempest and malarial swamps, that are well-nigh indescribable. The rebels, as they retreated, poisoned the wells, or killed animals in the ponds or streams, their putrid carcasses rendering the water unfit for use. Such acts only reacted upon themselves, for it enraged the army from the commanding general down to the private soldier, and they would have saved themselves the pillage and devastation that marked our line of march, had they adopted the rules of honorable warfare. But it seemed, in their case, as if the old proverb was true, that "whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad."
The rapid advance of the army made it impossible for the supply-trains to keep up, and for days the rations consisted of the unripe corn, roasted in the husks. All fared alike, officers and men. The tents and all the baggage, save blankets, had been left behind, and, during this campaign of three weeks, the regiment slept with the sky for a canopy, exposed to the deadly night-air and frequent tempests. Nights when no humane man would drive a dog out of doors found this entire army in the open field. Late in the afternoon of July 7th, while on the march, a thunder-storm burst upon us that no man of this regiment, then present, will ever forget, and one that the natives call the severest known in that region for years. The storm came apparently from all directions, and lasted over two hours. The lightning struck all around, and the roar of thunder was incessant. The horses became terrified, and officers were forced to dismount and lead them. The mud was ankle-deep, and finally impeded the movement of the artillery, which stuck in the roads up to the hubs and blocked the passage of the infantry. About 10 P.M. the storm lulled, and the regiment went into bivouac in an open field, and the men were ordered to make themselves comfortable. Then came a second edition of the storm,—if possible, worse than the first,—and there, shelterless in that open field, the boys stood in grim despair and let it pelt. Finally, with the stolid indifference of desperation the men laid down in the mud of that old stubble-field and made themselves comfortable. But all things come to an end, and so at last did the storm, when the field was quickly ablaze with camp-fires, and a dipper of hot coffee, innocent of milk or sugar, revived the spirits of the men.
Jackson, the capital of Mississippi, is situated on the west or right bank of the Pearl river, in a very fertile and pleasant region. Being at the juncture of the Vicksburg and Meridian and Mississippi Central Railroads, it is a position of great strategical importance. The State House, which cost half a million dollars, Executive Mansion, State Lunatic Asylum, and Penitentiary are the principal buildings; but being the seat of government, as well as a considerable commercial mart, there are many fine residences in the town and its suburbs. The site of the town itself is rather level, but back of it the country is undulating and well adapted for defence. It was expected that Johnston had been preparing for the present emergency, and had fortified the place extensively. The moral effect of the loss of the town would be great, and the idea was quite prevalent that it would be desperately defended. Indeed, as the army approached it, the more stubborn resistance of Johnston's forces indicated that they intended to dispute possession of their capital.
In the afternoon of July 10th the Ninth Corps came out into open country in sight of the town. As the different regiments and batteries debouched from the woods the colors were unfurled. It was a beautiful sight, that "battle's magnificently stern array." The sun was about an hour high, and its slanting rays glanced brightly from the muskets and the brass field-pieces. A gentle breeze stirred the silken folds of the standards, and made them float proudly and defiantly. Conspicuous among them could be seen the white flag of Massachusetts, carried by the Twenty-ninth, Thirty-fifth, and Thirty-sixth regiments. Sloping away in front was the valley along which extends the track of the Mississippi Central Railroad. Beyond, the ground rose gradually for about an eighth of a mile, and the crest was crowned with a dense wood, in the edge of which could be seen the rebel gray uniforms, and the gleaming of bayonets. The lines were formed. The Thirty-sixth Massachusetts held the extreme right of the First Division, having on its left the remainder of the First Brigade, the Seventeenth and Twenty-seventh Michigan, and the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania deployed as skirmishers along the entire brigade front. On the right was Smith's division of the Sixteenth Corps, and connecting with the Thirty-sixth Massachusetts was the Forty-sixth Ohio. What a glorious sight! The old Bay State, with Ohio on her right, and Michigan on her left, Pennsylvania leading, about to close in conflict with Mississippi, and far away on the right stretch the dark blue lines of Sherman's veterans, famous in later times from "Atlanta to the Sea." And now there was a pause, a silence that was ominous. Meanwhile, the intervals were closed, and alignments rectified. Curiously we peered into the distant wood, wondering whether it masked the rebel artillery. Where could they find a better place to use grape and canister? In the rear the splendid battery of the First Division was preparing for action. Lieutenant Benjamin's famous twenty-pounder rifled Parrotts, Battery E, Second United States Artillery, whose iron throats had carried dismay and death into the rebel ranks in other fields, far away in Virginia, Maryland, and North Carolina, were about to speak. Breathlessly all awaited the puff and the angry flash. It came, and over the valley, with a scream and whir-r-r, was hurled the iron messenger of death. It struck exactly on the crest of the hill, and exploded. Scarcely had the reverberation ceased, when the order was passed along the line: "Battalion forward! Guide centre, march!" With a simultaneous movement the lines advanced, slowly at first, but more rapidly as they approached the railroad. Behind us the Parrotts were talking in thunder tones that shook the very earth, and the shells were screaming overhead. The gallant Forty-fifth crossed the railroad, and their thin line was soon seen pushing up the hill. The Thirty-sixth followed in steady line of battle. The suspense was awful. Why don't they open fire? On the rebel side, save a few scattering Minies, that sang harmlessly by, all was silent. Suddenly the men became enthusiastic. With a "Hurrah," the men rushed up the hill. The rebels fired a scattering volley, and fell back upon their second line. The wood was gained, and with no loss. A few moments sufficed to re-form the lines, which again moved forward, passing the State Lunatic Asylum,—a large, white marble building, whose inmates, wild with the excitement of the unusual scene, raved at the regiment from the iron-barred corridors. A guard was placed upon the building, to protect the unfortunates. The lines moved cautiously forward, until the skirmishers were checked, and the rebel line developed. But the shades of night were now darkening the landscape, and orders were received to establish a strong picket, and hold the position until morning. Weary with the march and exciting close of the day, all gladly improved the opportunity for rest, laid down with loaded rifles by their side, or gathered in groups, and discussed the events of the day, or speculated upon the morrow. And some, alas! laid down that night to happy sleep, who, ere another came, were lying in a soldier's grave. Save occasional sharp firing by the pickets, the night passed quietly.
At three o'clock A.M. of the 11th the men were noiselessly aroused, and coffee, prepared by the company cooks, was served out. With the earliest streak of dawn the lines again moved forward, and the skirmishing opened sharply. The rebels yielded ground stubbornly, but were forced back into their main line of defence,—a formidable work constructed of cotton bales. Here they opened a heavy fire of grape and canister, against which it was impossible to advance. But not an inch was yielded. The brigade laid flat on the ground, and the iron storm passed over, doing little damage. The line was formed in a wood, in front of which was an open field, the other side of which, about two hundred yards distant, was held by the rebels, and their riflemen were in trees, picking off our men, wherever exposed. The skirmishers of the Forty-sixth Ohio suffered considerable loss, being less sheltered by the wood than those of our brigade. Nothing farther could be done until artillery could be brought up; but the ground was unfavorable for it, and matters came to a pause.
Lieutenant Benjamin reconnoitred the ground and the position of the enemy, but could not find any position which gave him room to work his guns. All day the regiment lay under a constant and galling fire awaiting orders.
Companies A and F were sent out to skirmish, relieving the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania. Captain Draper was ordered to connect with the skirmishers of Smith's division, who were said to be in position in a wood at our right, and several hundred yards to the front. In our own front was an open field, sloping toward the enemy's position. The two companies promptly deployed, and went forward on the double-quick, driving in the rebel pickets, only to find that the line supposed to be General Smith's skirmishers was the rebel main line. They opened fire, killing two and wounding six of Company F, who, with Company A, returned the fire. Seeing that some mistake had been made, and to prevent needless sacrifice, Captain Draper ordered a retreat, halting at a point midway between the enemy's line and our own, where the ground afforded some protection. Here the two companies held their position nearly all day until relieved.