[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG—Our division moves with Sherman's army against Johnson—DISASTROUS CHARGE OF COLONEL PUGH'S BRIGADE—The blame imputed to General Lauman—His parting orders—Our losses—Conclusion.
The first indication of the enemy's desire to capitulate, was a flag of truce which was seen to approach our lines from a point near Fort Hill. The firing immediately ceased at that point, and gradually died away to the right and left. The enemy's troops became more bold, and began to appear along their rifle pits. Ours likewise began to show themselves, and before noon the works of either side were lined with their respective uniforms, blue and grey. In some cases the antagonists mingled, and many of the enemy came into our camps, but General Grant ordered them to be sent back. So thick was the smoke, that it was not before 11 o'clock that the fleet saw the signal to cease firing. About one o'clock the flag of truce went back, and the firing again began at that point, and was soon resumed along the line, and within an hour the fleet again opened. About three o'clock another flag of truce came out; the firing again ceased, and the troops of either side appeared on their works much more readily than before. Orders soon after came for the firing to be permanently discontinued. Our troops lay in their rifle pits all night, in the highest spirits. Daylight found the rebels in plain view all along their works, and our boys likewise coming out of their holes to see what they could see. It was the Fourth of July. At eight o'clock a national salute was fired with blank cartridges from the batteries along our entire line. About ten o'clock, from the position of our regiment, with a field glass, the enemy might be seen to take down his flag from Fort Hill, and hoist a white flag in its stead. Then two men started, each with a bundle of white flags, and proceeded either way, hoisting them along the works. As each flag was raised, the men in front of it would cheer frantically, and all along our lines the boys from the tops of their works began to sing national airs, while the rebels from theirs listened in gloomy silence. Soon the late combatants mingled together, the rebels streaming through all our camps. Their salutations were characteristic of their situation. "Boys," they would say, shaking hands, "this is strange; yesterday we were trying to kill each other, now we are meeting as friends." For the most part the rebels seemed quite disheartened; and many of them, speaking of the war, used an expression which seemed to have become proverbial among them: "This is the rich man's quarrel, but the poor man's fight." Thus they mingled together, victor and vanquished,—smoked, played cards, and, over pots of hot coffee, discussed the war and related their adventures, like old comrades who, after a long absence, had just met.
But the troops of our division were not allowed the privilege of mingling long with their late foes. Our division was among the troops assigned to Sherman by orders from General Grant, with which, in the event of the success of the proposed assault on the sixth of July, he was to take the field immediately against Johnson. He was found in force around Jackson, strongly entrenched. It was not attempted to carry his works by assault; this was deemed impracticable, and the operations of a siege commenced.
The line of siege was formed on the eleventh, Hovey and Lauman, of Ord's corps, being on the extreme right. On the morning of the 12th, the 33d Wisconsin was sent across the Mississippi Central Railroad to Pearl River, and the 28th Illinois took their places in the 1st Brigade. Thus it seems as if fate had decreed that this gallant regiment, which had suffered side by side with ours in the disastrous bend of the Hatchie, should under the same generals suffer useless butchery now. In its first battle, the Third Iowa had fought for honor, but with some hope of victory; and now, in what was probably to be its last one, it was to fight for honor, but without hope;—nay, even to advance upon death itself, without the least encouragement of success.
Having disposed his divisions, General Ord ordered the generals commanding them to advance their lines. The left of our 1st Brigade was at that time considerably behind the right of Hovey. The troops moved forward as steadily as upon review, without hesitating or swerving, or showing any signs of precipitancy. It was a sight calculated to captivate the eye of a spectator, and fill with pride the heart of any general. What wonder? Were they not veterans, imbrowned by long exposure, and at home amid the elements of battle?
Colonel Pugh's skirmishers soon became hotly engaged. He reported the fact to General Lauman, who ordered him to continue to advance. He pushed back the enemy's skirmishers, till he came within sight of his main works, formidable in appearance, his guns pointing through embrasures, and his field of fire level and unobstructed (even the corn-stalks being cut down), affording no possible cover to an advancing line. The colonel now reported in person his position to General Lauman; but the general still ordered him to advance. He returned, and swept with his eye the field. There was the enemy's long line of works, showing the mouths of his defiant cannon, and near him the remnant of his gallant brigade, now only eight hundred strong, which he was ordered to destroy. It must have been a harrowing moment to him. What was he to do? His order was imperative, and he was too true a soldier to question, much less to disobey it. To advance partially and then retreat, would seem to exhibit cowardice, and would be worse than to refuse to advance at all. To advance within musket range, and halt and engage the enemy, would be to court destruction without preserving honor, and without the possibility of injuring him. Besides, he was not instructed to halt at all. He gave the order to his men, and the line moved steadily forward, without support or diversion on the right or left, or a single shell having been thrown to test the enemy's strength, or prepare their way. From regimental commanders to the rank and file—all were astonished. At first they supposed it was to be a general charge of the line, but their eyes soon undeceived them. A terrible realization of their situation came over them; but no one faltered or looked back. They had won too much glory on former fields to sully that record now. They must preserve honor, though they lost all else.
The enemy opened with fourteen pieces, and two brigades of infantry rose from their concealment, and poured a converging fire upon them. Colonel Pugh gave the command to charge; the men raised the shout and sprang forward through that thick storm of death. A few moments, and all was over. The line crumbled into broken bands, which arrived within pistol-shot of the embrasures, and halted and staggered and were swept away. Those who escaped had scarcely time to notice who had fallen. Back in the woods, where the advance had first commenced, they rallied—all that was left, but less than half the number that had advanced into that terrific fire. The Third Iowa had saved both its flag and banner; and now, of the two hundred and ten that advanced in the charge, but ninety could be rallied around them. Nearly all who were not there were killed, wounded or captured. General Lauman wept when he gazed on this remnant of his old brigade. Gen. Ord immediately relieved him of his command, and ordered him to report to Gen. Grant, at Vicksburg.[3]