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Written by:
Mrs. Ida Barlow Trotter, Winona, Montgomery Co Mississippi
Contributed by Maggie Edwards, granddaughter of Ida
The Siege of Vicksburg
Some Personal Experiences Connected Therewith
"My mother was my father's second wife and there were years difference in the ages of the children. In slave times it was the custom of each father to give each child when they married one or more slaves as a wedding present. When my mother married, my grandfather gave her Harriet and her children. My mother died when I was five years old and it was also the custom for all motherless and fatherless children to have Guardians. Major Cook's son-in-law, Captain William Smith was appointed my guardian. My mother's slaves were sent to Mrs. Smith, who paid us rent for their labor. Two of them were allowed to go with us to our grandmother's home, where we were reared and educated. This was the home of John Read and Dicy Duke. As a child I grew to young girlhood amidst the fearful turmoil, distress and heartaches of those lamentable days called the Civil War.
Should I write a book it could not contain the many experiences and perils we had to endure during the years and the awful climax, known now as "The Seige of Vicksburg." We were so close to Grant's headquarters that the northern soldiers were daily in our home, from the west, and the southern soldiers from the east.
One morning, a squad of Grant's men rode up to my father's gates and asked if he had seen any "Rebs" as they called any southern men. My father had seen none, so they rode on toward town to the east. A short distance from the house they were encountered with a volley of shots, from some of our men, who were in ambush in some deepgullies in front of our home. Several men were killed and some wounded. They were brought into our house until an ambulance could be sent for them from headquarters. The northern soldiers were much enraged with my father, saying he had known the "Rebs" were hiding in the gullies, when in the truth they had ridden down the gully and had not passed our gate at all. As soon as the dead and wounded were taken away the enemy set fire to our home and told my father he would be killed if he were not out of his place by sundown.
Leaving his home a smoldering ruin, and not able to take even a coat or hat, my father, step-mother and little brother Benjamin, walked into town and secured a conveyance to take them all to my grandfather's five miles from town. As my grandfather (John Read) was much opposed to seccession of the southern states from the union, the northern men had favored him by not burning his home, but had burned his gin house in which he had stored the cotton from three years crops. They had taken all his slaves, his horses, mules, cattle, sheep, hogs, and chickens. In fact everything they could take away except our clothing and furniture. Many of the hogs had been left in the woods and these were our only means of food, except what my grandmother had hidden away. In time we had to draw our rations from the army commissary, just as the soldiers did, as we were now prisoners of the army of the north. Each Saturday my old grandfather and my father who was also too old for service in the war, went into the ememy's camp and drew what they owed us for the next week.
When the gin house was burned the men took long poles with forks at the end and fished out the bales of burning cotton. They rolled them into the creek and then hid them in the woods. Sometime later when we were almost starved the two men put one bale of this cotton on an old cart, dragged it into the yankee camp and sold it for a good price. They hid the money received in a secret drawer in my grandmother's room. Before night two men, who had evidently seen grandfather receive the money, came to our home and told him to "hand over the money, old man." Grandmother had large rolls of confederate money in her ward- robe, so she gave the men a lot of that. They seemed satified, although the money was worth nothing. We expected them to return but they did not.
One day the advance guard came into our yard and told us to vacate the place as the line of battle would be drawn through our yard. Grandmother got out her knitting and the two old people took their seats on the front porch and said, "Come on, gentlemen, I will die where I have lived." The line of battle, however was put down below the garden in an old field.
We heard all of the sounds of the battle, and afterwards, our house, as well as the houses nearby were turned into hospitals and everybody was expected to do their part. Some were with us for days, some for weeks. Every man woman and child was helping.
Some of the people were packed away in caves, dug in the side of the hills. They had little food and were cut off from all help.
Before things had got so bad we had hidden everthing we could. We had some shingles taken from the roof of the back porch and many things put up there. All of our silver and jewelry were packed in boxes and hid in the holes dug under the front parlor. Grandmother had put a layer of hams between two mattresses, on a bed in one of the bedrooms, so we could get them easily when we wanted. When we knew the Yankees were about my aunt was instructed to lie on this bed and feign sickness. I stood by her with a fan.
My cousin Bettie Read, was not so patient. She spent much time doing what she could to aggravate the enemy. One evening some one told her that the Yankees were sleeping on her piano. The young lady bounced into the parlor and ordered them to dismount for two men were sprawled out on top of the great square piano. They got down and one said, "We will if you will play for us." She said, "I will not play for you but I will play for the two Confederate prisoners you have over there." Men were lying on the sofa, floor, and many were asleep, but she sat on the piano stool and began to play. One of the men came up and stood by her to turn her music when she noticed a beautiful diamond ring on his finger.
She told him she knew he had stolen it from some southern girl. He said, "you can have it if you can get it off my finger." She told him to give her his knife and opening the blade began whacking on his finger until the blood flew. He said, "I believe you want to kill me." but she said "No, not you but I would like to kill Captain Chambers." He unbuckled his belt and handed her his pistol and said, "He is on the porch, go kill him." Her mother passed the door and saw her with a pistol and screamed. She took the young lady by the hand and led her upstairs to her room.
Ida Barlow continues with a few more stories and concludes with her own family coming home.
One by one our own boys came home. My brother James fell at Malvern Hill, Bob died in camp. Charles W. Read lay in a federal prison for months before he was sent home. Robert Hall came home with one arm gone. Joe Read came with one leg. John, Alex and William were unharmed. Captain Barkley, my cousin Bettie's sweetheart was killed at Selma Alabama. Dearest of all were the noble, battle scared, defeated but not conquered men that were left, after that awful slaughter called, "The Seige of Vicksburg."
The following story contains portions that are the same as the story above, but still is very interesting reading:
In the history of the Southern Confederacy, the subject of this paper marks one of the most horrible periods of the Civil War.
Gen. Ulysses Grant’s well equipped Army of untold thousands of blood thirsty men had for several months been playing havoc with both life and property in the Central part of the State, and had won the battles of Raymond, Jackson, Champion’s Hill and Baker’s Creek. He had a tremendous army, divided into sections that were led by Generals Sherman, Sheridan, Greirson and McPhersons-while our Generals - the immortal Joseph E. Johnson and Pemberlton only had a few man and they were not well clothed or fed as the two years of hard warfare had well nigh stripped our Southland of its supply of food stuff and other supplies.
Gen. Johnson, however, had his forces well disciplined and with the help of Gen. Braggand, Van Dorn, he had held the enemy at bay during the four battles just mentioned but Van Dorn had been ordered to Tenn., and thus the Confederate forces were considerably lessened.
After these battles, the straggling enemy had destroyed houses, gin houses, and everything that would burn. They had stolen the stock of all kinds and even the barn yard fowls were carried away, indeed the entire section from Jackson toward Vicksburg was one vast field of smoking ruins standing chimneys and devastated fields.
Grant now had the way clear to approach the largest town in our State, which place he had already tried to besiege by way of the Yazoo River as on April 16th a fleet of gun-boats passed those of the Confederate Army and joined the land forces which were encamped furthur down the river. During this passage, several of the Confederate boats were captured and several sunk. Captain Charles Read, a cousin of the writer was commanding one of these, he was taken prisoner, and sent to Boston, where he was confined in chains until the War ended.
Grant now commenced his march toward the City, which is built upon many hills, and the inhabitants had no means of refuge except to dig themselves caves in the sides of these hills. My Father’s home was not in the City, but was in the Yankee lines. Being over age for active service, he was at home with my stepmother and the three smaller children, my oldest brother, Capt. James Arthur Barlow having joined Lee’s Army in Virginia and gave up his life at the battle of Malvern Hill.
Our home was surrounded be Yankee’s both day and night, as the head-quarters of General Grant were only about a mile from our home. We were utterly in their power and in a constant state of uneasiness, for fear we would be killed.
One morning a company, commanded by Capt. Chambers, halted at our gate, and asked if we had seen rebs, as the Southern Soldier was then called. My Father had seen now, so the march proceeded on toward the town. A few yards from the house they were encountered by a volley of shots from a company of our men who were in ambush in some gullies on the out skirts of town. The Captain was killed and many men wounded. As a result, they were brought into the house, until Ambulances could be sent for to carry them to the hospital. The Yankee’s were so enraged with my Father saying he had known the rebs were hiding under the hill, which he did not, that they at once put the torch to out home and told my Father that if was on the premises at sun-down they hang him.
Leaving our home a mass of smoldering ashes, we went bare-headed with nothing but what we had on. My Father even being without a coat to our Grandfathers.
All the provisions they could find, all the stock and fowls and the gardens, orchards and growing fields had been turned into pastures for their horses. We drew our rations just like the solders did (and awful living it was too) fat pickled pork, hard tack so old it had bugs in it, a little flour and coffee.
My Grandmother soaked the hard tack in water over night to soften it, then fried it is the grease that came out of the meat and drank the coffee without sugar.
Inside the city it was worse a thousand times. The soldiers who were fighting night and day and the inhabitants who were packed away in the caves like rats in a hole, made no murmur, the brave creatures were so intent upon subduing the enemy that they made no complaint, every man, woman and child giving aid to route the destroyers of their life, home, peace, and liberty and so for 47 days and nights they were exposed to burning suns, drenching rains, fogs, in fact were at the complete mercy of the elements.
They were cut off from all the help as the city was surrounded on all sides by the enemy, but even if it had not been there was nothing in the surrounding country to send them. Hunger and starvation was the inevitable, as everything had been eaten that would sustain life. Fowls, cattle, horses, mules, dogs, cats, frogs, and any living thing in reach, except the gaunt human creatures who stared at one another with blood shot eyes, and parched lips. During all these 47 days and nights, we in our home were in mortal dread and it would take a book instead of a few pages I am permitted to write to tell you of our varied experiences. We were in the Yankee lines outside the city, but day after day the flare and boom of cannon and the whizzing balls were our constant companions.
One day the advance guard came up and ordered us to vacate the house as the lines of battle would be formed through our yard. My Grandmother and Father refused to go, and my dear old Grandmother took her knitting and sat on the front gallery, and said “come on gentlemen- I will die where I have lived.” The line of battle was however placed just below our garden and we sat in the house and saw the trees cut into shreds, and cannon-balls cut through the tops of the houses. We heard the bellowing of the great guns, and heard the screams of the frantic and wounded men.
After the battle was over and our home was filled with wounded and right busy was every member of the family obeying orders from the surgeon and administering to the needs of the suffering. My Grandmother had hid everything in the house and store rooms that she could possibly hide, and curious were the places in which she secreted them. She had a few shingles taken from the roof , and had many things put in on the ceiling. She had all the silver and jewelry buried, in boxes under the house and to keep some meat where we could get it to eat, she put the two mattresses on a bed and placed a layer of bacon, hams between them. She had my aunt, a Mrs. Hall, who was fond of lying down and reading to undress and feign sickness, and it was my duty to take the great pea-fow l fly brush used in the dinning room and keep the flies from off the make believe patient, who spent her time patiently reading novels.
My cousin Miss Elizabeth Read was however not so patient and spent her time doing all she could to aggravate the Yankees and kept the older members of the family in a constant state of uneasiness for fear they would be kill us or burn the house as a result of our cousins attack upon the enemy with her tongue.
One night a little servant girl came in and said “Miss Bettie dem dar Yankees is a sleeping on your piano” where upon she bounced in the parlor and demanded them to dismount, for the great square piano was a comfortable nap.
A young officer got up and dais “we will get down if you will come and play for us”. She said “I will not play for you, but I will play for those Confederate prisoners I see you have there”. So while she was playing the handsome fellow came and turned the music for her. She noticed that he wore a beautiful diamond ring, and told him she knew he had stolen it from some Southern girl. He held out his finger and said “You can have it if you can get it off my finger”. She said “give me your knife, he did so, and she whacked it with the knife and the blood flew. He said “why I believe you would kill me if you could”. She told him, no she would not but she would kill Capt. Chambers if she could and he unbuckled his belt and handed her his pistol and said “now you have the chance” but just then my Aunt passed the door and screamed when she saw the pistol.
Upon another occasion a crowd of Yankees came into the room where my Aunt was feigning sickness. One of her own house servants, a dinning-room boy, was leading the way, and called out “come this way, I’ll show you where they keep the goodies and led them to the pantry. My Aunt jumped from the bed and grabbed an old musket that my Uncle always kept by the bed-side and jerked out the bayonet that was the end of it and struck one of the Yankees in the breast. He was bourne away to the surgeon and the entire family thought our time had come and we would all be slain; but an officer was outside and he came in and had a private conversation with my Grandfather and that was the end of it.
The two most horrible atrocities that took place in our section, were those of the Cook and the Watson families.
Mr. Cook was a planter who was said to be cruel to his slaves. It seems that his negro’s had left their Master and gone in a body to the Yankees as most of them did over the whole country. It is supposed they had reported their Masters cruelty to them and the result was, a squad of soldiers went t the Cook home and over-powered the entire family except one little girl who hid under the house. The father was most horribly mutilated, both arms and legs were cut off - a candle was put into a gun end and shot into the mother - a bayonet was thrust one child pinning her to the well. After the soldiers left, the child under the house heard her father’s groans and went to find him - together they made their way to the nearest neighbors - the man just scurrying along with both feet and hands gone and only lived a short time. The Watsons were an old couple and he was a paralytic. They had several sons in the Confederate Army who were noted for their bravery. The Yankees were supposed to have heard this and sought revenge on the parents. They rolled the old gentleman out on his gallery in his rolling chair-they then set fire to the house. The mother they took in the yard - took her own feather bed and cut it open - while some were doing this - others went into her own smokehouse and rolled a barrel of molasses into the yard - after removing all the woman’s clothing -they put her in the feathers and emptied the molasses on her-leaving her thus to watch her husband burned to death - sitting on his own gallery. We were told that Gen. Grant was very indignant over this crime committed by his men and they in turn were severely punished.
On day, my Grandfather carried two bales of cotton into the quartermasters where he drew our rations and was given a good price for them. Not long after he reached home, several men who had seen him receive the money came and placing a pistol to his temple - demanded the money. My grandmother went to wardrobe and got several large rolls of Confederate money and gave that to them which they seemed to be satisfied with and left-not knowing it was not worth the paper it is was printed on.
One night several Yankees brought in a Confederate spy whom they had captured, and sat around our fire, saying that at 9 o’clock they would take him out and shot him. My grandmother begged for his life but to no good, so the prisoner gave up his great Army coat and blanket and was led out behind the gin house and out of the darkness came the report of pistol shots which sent him to his death.
Late one evening, I was out in the yard with a cousin gathering blue-bells which grew in our yard in abun- dance. We heard groans outside the fence, and saw a wounded man lying on the ground. We were so distressed that it turned us sick and to this day the odor o f blue bells will cause me to feel as if I should faint.
I could ramble on telling thousands of horrible experiences that we endured during this awful siege of death and destruction, but my time will not permit.
Up in the city the scene could not be described by mortal tongue.
Starving men , women, and children with rags hanging to them-stalked the streets in utter despair. They had given all for their country, and had naught left but a feeble claim on life, and this they were ready to give also but our great Gen. Pemberton said “NO we must give up”, and on July 4th,1863, Vicksburg was given over to into the hands of the enemy, and a death blow fell upon the Confederacy for that day those in authority knew that hope was in vain and the cause for which so many brave men had given up their lives, was lost, that the death knell of the beloved Confederacy was sounded.
For days and weeks we had to endure the pitiable site of our own men straggling homeward - there were no trail roads in running order and with bare feet, gaunt, and partly naked on they came in a steady stream, we had naught shelter and water to give them, but the poor starved creatures were still afraid and would only stop for a drink until out of the Yankee lines, and many was the poor fellow who fell by the wayside.
One by one our own dear ones returned to us - one with an arm gone, another with a leg gone. One had given his life in the fore front, and another had died in Camp.
My cousin Miss Read had lost her lover, among the many other boys who gave up their lives for the “girl they left behind” and oh! the widows, the fatherless children and broken hearted Southern girls, the white haired mothers and fathers, but dearest of all, the noble, battle scarred defeated but not conquered heroes that were left after this awful carnage of 47 days and nights that constituted the “Siege of Vicksburg”