Vicksburg Visitation
I suppose the people of Vicksburg possess mixed feelings, much as they did in 1863. Happy to celebrate the anniversary of one of the most strategic days in American history, yet always identified with the vanquished side of the struggle. July 4th, 1863 was a relief from the siege yet filled with grief for many. Vicksburg’s surrender was a triumph for so many more. A needed and welcome victory on a march towards a better world. I had decided to hike up the hill; it gave me a better appreciation for the terrain and made parking easier. Looming atop the hill and dominating the view was the historic courthouse. The Warren County Courthouse was less than a decade old when it played its most prominent role in history. Courthouses rising, the symbols of the arrival of civilized peoples. The civilized people who exiled one group of people and subjugated another. Once the conquest was completed the civilized peoples built our neoclassical monuments to justice. Halls of justice built upon sweat, tears, welts, and blood. Those laborers who were the builders then often excluded from any standing in the marble rooms. Here it stood a statement to the accomplishments of mankind, if some men and most all women were conveniently forgotten. It had become the object of defiance. The prize to be obtained. Standing high able to capture views and breezes that were absent in the malarial swamps, endless mud, and hard scrabble fields of the land around it. Returning the United States flag in 1863 was a symbol of celebration and despair. It was the focus of the commemoration today. A great museum to honor the struggle, hopefully some surplus coins of tourists would keep it solvent for a while.
Personally, knowing it was the Warren County Courthouse seemed incongruent. I had grown up in Warren County. My ancestors and neighbors were not the builders of this monument. They would be celebrators of the capture of this Southern icon of the cause. Their names would be the names memorialized in the Illinois Memorial. Another example of how two regions on similar paths diverged and formed into explosive forces of opposition. Each region struggling to transform the land into agricultural bounty, each with different struggles and different methods to attain dominion. I did not come to reenact but to commemorate. Here simply to remember the struggle and the significance of this day over nearly two centuries ago. I enjoy walking through these places of history. It makes real the texts I have read. My fascination takes me to the less traveled regions; where I enjoy walking in an unhurried pace. Time for pause and reflection; time to interact. A relaxed lifestyle allowing for a connection. Always time to share a moment with a stranger who enjoys a little gab. Vicksburg is a place with statues of President Lincoln and Jefferson Davis as if in conversation. Neither looking like they were ready to compromise. I think Lincoln would say we have had nothing but compromise; it is time to stand firm. Davis would argue over the aggrievement of Southern rights. I would say those arguments were long past. Yet I see social media feuds, and I know old sentiments easily flare into modern confrontations. Kentucky Bourbon can still accelerate a fire in our present day as it did in the nineteenth century. Its importation from a land of supposed neutrality does not mute the effect. Lincoln and Davis walked separate paths from their neighboring beginnings. They held no common vision of the future. In their own time I doubt they would find much to discuss with each other. If somehow put together in some future Valhalla with the hindsight of history, then I am sure there would be a dialog.
Coming up the bluff is a good hike. I would enjoy watching a flag raising ceremony. It would give me time to catch my breath. Mahmoud would likely want me to count my steps. He owned a research and development business that shared the building where my office was located. He often asked about my visits to historical sites. My semi-retirement gave me time for hikes and camping. No trip or battlefield had intrigued him as my Vicksburg trip and plan to be here over the 4th of July. I didn’t think he would ever stop quizzing me. I thought I knew a great deal about Vicksburg. Still I had to do research to answer his questions. I slowed as I approached no need to appear winded. I slowly recover, observe, and listen.
I enjoy the uniforms of the reenactors, who care so much about detail. I do not like wool. I am glad to not be wearing anything but jeans and a polo. Mississippi is still a hot humid place in July. How squalid it must have been in 1863. People forget today’s cities were small towns. The armies contained thousands of men. Over 100,000 engaged here. Vicksburg itself hosting over 30,000 Rebels. A mostly willing population of 5000 but inadequate to host such a large number. Horses and mules also came along with Civil War armies. Requiring food, water, and endurance the same as men. Creating the same destabilizing effects on sanitation as any other living beings adding even greater putridness in death than the men. I expect we would find the stench appalling. The rations were poor fare at the best of times, but within the city under siege rations were gone. Vicksburg was under siege from May 18th to July 4th. Mahmoud wasn’t satisfied with the answer I knew, from May to July, he wanted more accurate data. I now knew about as much as anyone who was not there. History often allows the future reader far more knowledge than being an actual participant. The longer lens has an advantage of breadth but also is blurred by false narratives. Vicksburg had spent a “forty days in the wilderness” experience continually looking for a redeemer. None could or would come. Lee had argued with Davis for another invasion or grand raid of the North near Washington. General Grant had driven Joe Johnston away at Jackson. Loring lost or left alone had followed after Champion Hill. Once the Union had sealed Vicksburg and secured the lifeline of the ‘Mighty Missisip’; Grant had decided to out camp them. The defiant secessionists looked to the West, but only saw setting suns no armies or navies. Neither Price nor Taylor would free them. As the Union armies trenched and mined the Rebel army and the residents within Vicksburg withered. The outsiders getting stronger and closer until the siege culminated with a surrender negotiated to occur on July 4th. The second large army to surrender to U.S. Grant and his Western Men.
I had come to listen to lectures, to walk the fields, and observe the ceremonies of this most important event. Vicksburg’s capture pulled the nail head and put the key back in the Union’s pocket. Unconditional surrender Grant had negotiated conditions with paroles for Confederate soldiers which commenced on July 4th after the Stars and Stripes were restored to fly above the old courthouse, actually new courthouse then. I watched aware that on this same day two battered armies at Gettysburg would be still in shock, as Lee began to flee to Virginia. In 1863 those in Vicksburg and Gettysburg would yet be unaware of each other’s impact on the course of history. My breathing was measured again. I wandered about as a respectful crowd cheered the flag ascending. A couple of cannons were fired ending one part of the day. A large outdoor event would soon begin. A bounteous meal and music celebrating the starvation and carnage or maybe better put celebrating its end. An end for the armies in Vicksburg at least on that one day. I walked up the old steps and began to tour inside the old courthouse.
Poking around gazing at the old war tools, camp paraphernalia, extant documents or their copies. Strolling and reflecting trying to avoid clusters of people on the guided tours. I came up to an unmarked door; it was unlocked, and I opened it. I felt a mix of dizziness within a calm steadying force. It was as if some hydraulic of motion buffered my step inside. I was neither floating nor falling, rather fading forward at a steady pace. Once the door closed and I had my feet solidly on the floor I began a normal pace to a west facing window. It was warmer in here, either not cooled or inadequately vented. It reminded me these buildings were never meant to be seasonally comfortable as we demand today. People must have sweat a great deal more in 1863. My eyes readjusted and I saw a man in uniform staring motionless out a window to my right. A Union uniform as many others wore outside today. This one was rather plain and worn. I thought a true reenactor. The man had his back to me staring intently or maybe blindly, but certainly deep in thought. I moved over to a window away from him, so as not to interrupt his thoughts. I looked out to the West; the sight broke my silence. It elicited an unintended yelp from me. I was looking down not on the modern diversion canal but on the grand ole man hisself. There she flowed right at Vicksburg’s front door. At the shore Union gunboats, no power lines, no concrete streets, no traffic lights. The dusty streets were filled with uniformed men from both armies. Some Union men were mounted. It was impossible, still I was sure it was not some high-tech holographic display. Looking down Grove clear to the river past where I had parked and hiked to the courthouse. Now, there was nothing I had seen as I had ascended. My exclamation had interrupted the uniformed man’s thoughts. He turned to me and asked, “Why did Allard and Earp let you pass?” He then looked me over more closely realizing what an oddity I was. In this moment I knew I was standing before Ulysses Simpson Grant – actually Hiram Ulysses Grant the name long ago discarded by bureaucratic error.
Grant a man of average height for his time but a little less than average in ours. Not a thin man but one with an average frame. I realized I might be the more intimidating one. I as calmly as a panicked man can, spoke, “General Grant I may be dreaming or we may both be dreaming, but I am not of your time. When I came into this room, it was many years past July 4th, 1863.” He looked with me with a steady but even more curious gaze. I inquired, “It is the 4th of July in 1863?”
Grant softly said, “yes, of course.”
I had been taking photos. I pulled my display out of my jeans pocket and presented them to him. He was stunned.
“There have been advances in telegraph and photography. I could send this photo to my wife back in Chicago. She would be able to see it in a couple of minutes.”
Grant paused, then carefully examined me, “Odd clothes, odd words, all odd.”
Grant continued, “I am going to pretend you’re not real and I am dreaming. Maybe I and the army are still over in that sickening swamp, and I am delirious.”
“Yes, a logical course and I am hoping when I walk out the door. I wake up, not encounter Allard and Earp.” I added with a smile.
As disconcerting as this all was, I felt rather calm and in no immediate danger. I said, “Congratulations on your victory here. You will get a promotion to rank in the regular army and this campaign will be studied at West Point.”
Grant grinned, “Well spirit of yet to come, how does this all end?”
I said, “The Union wins, but there will be many more terrible battles. It will be another two years before the rebellion is completely crushed. You personally will gain more promotions. President Lincoln has come to appreciate your success and is disregarding some of the rivalry and attacks against you.”
Grant nodded, “Yes, his man Dana was here. I liked him; seems to believe we are doing the best we can. I’ve never met Lincoln, but I think he is managing a terrible storm. So, Spirit what else would you tell me.”
“History will look upon this day as the turning point. Lincoln and the War Department won’t yet know of your victory; word hasn’t reached Cairo. Do you know Gettysburg Pennsylvania?”
Grant, “no, what of Pennsylvania?”
“You will soon learn of Gettysburg. General Meade was put in command of the Army of the Potomac while Robert Lee was conducting a campaign into Pennsylvania. Lee consolidated his three corps to meet the approaching Union Army. Gettysburg is a hub of many roads it is where they converged. They battled for three days beginning on July first.
I can relate the general outlines of the battle if you would like ---”
Grant, “Yes, did Meade win?”
“Yes, the Union held at the end. On the morning of the first day Buford’s cavalry fought a delaying action against A.P. Hill’s corps. They deployed and fell back several times until General Reynolds corps came in support. Reynolds was hit by either sniper or stray bullet, but he is dead. Later on, during the afternoon of the first day Richard Ewell’s corps arrived on the right flank of the Union position north of Gettysburg. Hancock and Howard had begun a fallback position south of Gettysburg; the engaged troops retreated to it as the Rebels overwhelmed the Union right late in the afternoon. Those troops along with the arriving corps began to fortify that position.
The second day Lee attacked the Union position first trying to take a now strongly fortified hill on the Union right. Longstreet’s Corps was arriving, and he organized an attack on the Union left in the afternoon. It was a fierce assault repulsed with the Union hastily deploying forces as they arrived. At the end of the day both armies occupied the same positions more or less. Lee decided to attack the center of the Union position on the third day. Longstreet put Pickett’s division, just arrived, to lead this assault. It was repulsed with nearly 50% casualties. General Hunt in charge of all Union artillery had positioned and commanded the Union cannon to devastating effect. Today Lee is preparing to retreat back across the Potomac to Virginia. The casualties of both armies’ total around 50,000. Lee’s rebels losing more but still Union losses are over 20,000 men.”
Grant had listened intently seemingly visualizing ghastly scenes. He added “Twice Shiloh, two more years, Meade didn’t stop Lee’s retreat?”
“No, Lee will get back to Virginia to regroup. Much to President Lincoln’s distress. History will reveal a letter written but never sent expressing his disappointment.”
Grant drew in a slow and thoughtful breath, “Yes, it will continue as long as their armies can fight. Two more years means the Southerners will hold out until their armies are whipped, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, they will, the war ends after the armies of the Confederacy are crushed.”
Grant withdrew a cigar slowly he began to more chew on it, he didn’t light it, “I have another question. These Africans the Freedmen they are eager to help. They held on at Milliken’s Bend, I think will they be good soldiers. Will we use them?”
“Union forces will enlist many Black troops. Lincoln is ready to wrestle the politics. They are quite capable and have the great motivation of liberation. They will want equal pay to sacrifice their lives equally. Train and treat them fairly your army will benefit from their determination.”
“I worked with Jones and freed him. A man like anyone else. He cared about family, a hoped-for family. He had a woman, but she was sold south to Arkansas. He hoped to work with horses and as a blacksmith to earn enough to buy her. He knew the slave man’s name and where folks said he was from; I don’t know what became of him. You know that place in Pennsylvania is going to be frightful. I asked God after Shiloh, then other scrapes, and all that sickening swamp over there, how could this go on? Then I see men, how mean they sometimes are in this slave land. Well that’s done, but what will become of them, these colored folks?”
“They will do just fine, if they can. Most want to farm their own place to feed family. They desperately want school for their kids and themselves. They all want their three Rs, some want far more than that. They would be just fine if White people would just give them a fair shot.”
“The mean folks won’t will they?”
“No after the war there will be a new struggle a brutal one. It will not be a war of armies, but it will carry on a long time, a very long time.”
Grant gazed imperceptibly with a slight nod.
“You will continue to rise in rank in the regular army from now on.”
Grant smiled, “That is good for the family and restores me in this army business. I wasn’t really seeking a military life.”
I was beginning to feel an odd sensation. I added, “You do excel at command in spite of what you sought.”
“Get your army to the right place with what they need and push the enemy. I suppose we need to concentrate on the East now that the river will be open. It is a simple business just a rather grim one” Grant half smiled. “What of Port Hudson?”
“Port Hudson will surrender soon. When they learn of Vicksburg’s surrender.”
A strange feeling, I knew I should return, “I can only say you will make mistakes, but you are on the right course. America needs you in command and after the war will very much need your service to our country. The war is getting deadlier the armies are learning very well how to kill. As the commander you will learn, too. I feel I must go now. If Allard and Earp have me when you come out, maybe don’t shoot me as a spy. Could you let me live quietly?”
“I never want more blood. I will put Rawlins in charge of you, he’d see that you behave. Would you make a good clerk?”
I was heading to the door. I felt impelled to do so, “I would sir, but I hope I awake outside the door. Thank you, sir, you are the necessary man.”
I opened the door it was not stuck but I felt as if I walked through a wall of molasses. At least not sticking to me. I slowly became aware of being back in the hall, it was cooler as my head cleared. No one seemed any different than before and no one noted my appearance. Maybe I had never left the hall. I decided to slowly leave. I had had a vision, maybe I had had a stroke. I felt fine, so not likely. I went outside bought a lemon shakeup at a stand. I waited and took a shuttle down to the river, the river as it was in modern times. I walked a couple blocks to my car and went back to the motel. Even though it was only afternoon I laid down and took a deep nap. I was asleep for almost for four hours. I awoke through fitful dreams, never quite becoming fully conscious. I would slip to sleep and dream again. When I did awake, I was relieved to leave the dream. A dream filled with screams and stench. Desperate looks of fear, rage, anger, many people so many filled with loneliness and fatigue. I was covered in sweat as if a fever had broken. By the time I had showered and dressed it was nearly eight. A restaurant was open across the street. I walked over feeling out of place. I should be hungry by now, but food seemed off-putting. It was good but just a little overwhelming, I ate less than I normally would. I came back to the motel and went into the bar. I sat at a booth; a server came for my order.
What will it be?
I will have a whiskey.
What brand?
I smiled and replied, “I forgot to ask” As the server looked for a better answer I said, “Maker’s Mark from the great neutral state of Kentucky and a glass of water”
The server left with the look of someone who knew the town was full of eccentrics.
I sat there as still as Grant staring out the window. The server added it to my room. I looked over to my invisible companion and toasted him. “Well General Grant it was quite a day, I think it was anyway. Not sure of anything, but I am glad you whipped them.”
A Shire Tale on Forgottonia.org — Forgottonia
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