[CHAPTER XXI.]
Wherein Captain Galligasken follows the illustrious Soldier through the Campaign in Mississippi to the Siege and Surrender of Vicksburg.
I am continually prompted to pause in my narrative, and dilate upon the splendid conceptions of Grant, as I see him marching triumphantly over the strongholds of the Rebellion; but the grand facts themselves are enough to overwhelm the imagination. Never was so bold a scheme conceived on a scale so grand; never was one more brilliantly executed. Behold the conqueror issuing his mandates from the State House of the rebel capital of Mississippi! Sternly and resolutely he cuts away the veins and arteries of the Rebellion itself, as he tears up railroads and demolishes mills and public buildings. He is in the very midst of the powers of treason, but he is not dismayed. Far away from his supplies, the rebel stores feed the loyal troops. Dismay and demoralization radiated from his headquarters; and, astounded as the leaders of the Rebellion were, they failed to realize the full extent of the disaster which had befallen them.
Grant had struck the heavy blow in this direction, and, gathering up his forces, he retraced his steps, leaving ruin and desolation behind him. He did not carry on the war on peace principles. Months before he had solved the problem of subjugation. He had gone into the conflict as others did, with an inadequate idea of the work to be accomplished, believing that a few national victories would settle all the questions at issue. But the war was to be a death-struggle. The rebels manifested their hate and spite to a degree never before exhibited by any people. They declared that they never would submit, and their deeds did not belie their words. The question was not to be considered as settled when the national government had demonstrated that it was the stronger party of the two. The "last ditch," and a grave in the Gulf of Mexico, was the howl of the Confederacy. The contest was to be continued not only while large armies could be held together and subsisted, but by guerrillas and partisans burrowing in the mountains after all hope and all other resources had failed.
It was necessary to meet this view with one of corresponding severity. Grant realized the situation. It was his purpose to destroy the armies of the Rebellion, and all the material with which armies could be supplied. He did his work thoroughly, but it was a work of humanity, a saving of life and of treasure. He took a statesman's view of the situation; his solution of the great problem was the only one which could save the country, and which could confine the war within a reasonable period of time. The rebels were courting a war of extermination, but Grant's policy broke the spirit of the people, if not of their leaders.
The victorious general slept in the house in Jackson which Johnston had occupied the preceding night. While the army was at the capital, an act of poetic justice was done, though in violation of orders. A number of Union prisoners had been conveyed by railroad through Jackson some time before. The cattle cars, in which they were transported, stopped in front of the Confederate Hotel, and the thirsty captives begged of its inmates "a cup of cold water only." It was refused, with scurrilous jeers and revilings. These prisoners had been exchanged, and were now in Grant's conquering army. They set fire to the hotel, and burned it to the ground: the tables were turned, and the indignity was avenged.
Johnston retreated towards Canton, and sent despatches to Pemberton, in which he suggested to him the necessity of cutting off Grant's supplies from the Mississippi. Grant had already cut himself off from his base, and was living upon the enemy. He also intimates that it is desirable to "beat" Grant, if he was compelled to fall back for the want of supplies. The rebel general was a long way behind the times, and, like many others, had entirely mistaken his man. He moved over to the north, intending to effect a junction with Pemberton; but the latter defeated the plan by disobeying his orders.
Grant, having obtained accurate knowledge of Pemberton's position, pushed forward to the battle, which was impending. Johnston was in his rear, and it was necessary to use the utmost haste, in order to fight them in detail. The enemy was strongly posted on Baker's Creek, the left of the line resting on Champion's Hill, from which his artillery commanded the plains below. The national forces, nearly exhausted by hard marching, but still buoyant and uncomplaining, approached by three roads, which converged at Edwards's Station.
As our gallant army approached, the rebels on the hill, seventy feet above the plain, opened fire, with shot and shell, from its bald summit, while a deadly fire of musketry blazed from the forest, in which the foe was concealed. The hill was the key of the position, and Hovey pushed on, forcing the enemy back, till he had captured eleven guns and three hundred prisoners. But the rebels massed their men in front of him, and drove him slowly and doggedly back, until the ground gained was lost again.