During the Vicksburg Campaign, approximately forty men
served at some point in command of a division (which in Civil War terms
consisted of two or more brigades). While brigade commanders (those in charge
of two or more regiments) were the ones most directly engaged in tactical
fighting, the failure or success of an army in the 19th century often depended
on how well division commanders translated the orders of a corps or army
commander to the brigade level. When taken as a group, the division commanders who
served in both the Union and Confederate army during the Vicksburg Campaign was
definitely a mixed bag as far as experience and ability is concerned, and there were quite
a few characters to boot.
Of the twelve Confederates and twenty eight Federals,* twenty-four
were born in northern states, eleven in southern states, and two from the
border states of Maryland and Kentucky, while three were of foreign birth. Of
the twelve Confederates, two were from northern states: Samuel G. French, who
moved to Mississippi before the war, and Martin Luther Smith. A native of New
York, Smith (right) was an 1842 graduate of West Point and spent most of
his career in the old U.S. Army in the south. A topographical engineer, he
mapped the valley of Mexico City during the Mexican War, and then met and
married a woman from Athens, Georgia. With secession, despite his northern
birth, Smith was compelled by his “associations, feelings and interests” to
join the Confederacy. Conversely, none of the Union officers were natives of
southern states, but all three foreign-born generals enlisted in the Union
Army. Of these, Peter J. Osterhaus was a European revolutionary who sought
exile in the U.S. After attending military school in Berlin, Osterhaus served
in the 29th Regiment of the Prussian Army. Only one general - Earl Van Dorn of
Port Gibson - was a native Mississippian.
When education is examined, there are some interesting
developments. Eight received no formal education (although most studied for the
law or were trained as tradesmen). Eighteen attended organized schools and
several graduated from prestigious colleges and universities, principally Frank
Blair (Princeton), Alvin P. Hovey (Darmouth), John Milton Thayer (Brown) and
Dabney Maury (University of Virginia). Of the twelve Confederates, only William
W. Loring received no formal education, although he did study for the law. Nine
Confederates were graduates of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point (or
75%). However, just five of the twenty-nine Union division commanders were West
Pointers, comprising only 17% of that group. Of course, formal military
education isn’t necessarily an indication of ability on the field and it must
be noted that during the Vicksburg Campaign many of the “volunteer generals”
performed quite well – so well, in fact, that jealousies frequently erupted
over the perceived superiority of West Pointers and the better opportunities
they usually had for promotion. For example, of the three corps commanders in
the Union army at Vicksburg, the only non-West Point graduate was Maj. Gen.
John A. McClernand, who was sent packing by Grant during the siege and replaced
by another West Pointer, Edward O.C. Ord. Fifteen of the division commanders
were promoted to either corps command or independent command after the
Vicksburg Campaign. Of these were seven Confederates: John C. Breckinridge,
Samuel French, William W. Loring, Stephen D. Lee, Dabney Maury (who later
commanded the defenses at Mobile), Carter Stevenson and W.H.T. Walker. Of the
eight Union generals promoted to a higher command, only one – Andrew.J.
“Whiskey” Smith – was a West Point graduate.
While only fourteen graduated from West Point, twenty-three
had some military experience prior to the Civil War. At least eleven served in
the army during the Mexican War, while others spent time at various posts out
west fighting Indians, or, like Samuel Ferguson (who would become a Confederate
cavalry commander), in action against the Mormons in Utah. In Mexico, a number
of the future generals earned praise for their bravery and had the wounds to
show it. William W. Loring, despite his seeming inability to get along with his
superiors in the Confederate Army, was brevetted a Lt. Col. after losing an arm
at the battle of Chapultepec. After being wounded, Loring reportedly “laid
aside a cigar, sat quietly in a chair without opiates to relieve the pain, and
allowed the arm to be cut off without a murmur or a groan. The arm was buried
on the heights by his men, with the hand pointing towards the City of Mexico.”
Meanwhile, future Union General George W. Morgan (above), a West Point
drop-out due to “scholastic difficulties,” was wounded twice in Mexico and was
a brevet brigadier general for gallantry – the youngest officer to gain that
distinction during the war. Morgan Lewis Smith, who was wounded at Chickasaw
Bayou, also served in the army before the war, but under an assumed name.
Running away from home at age twenty-one, Morgan served in the regular army for
five years before signing on as a riverboat man on the Ohio and Mississippi
Rivers.
While the majority of these generals had some previous
military experience and a number chose the army as a profession, there is a
great variety of prewar civilian occupations among the group. Eleven were
involved at some level in politics, while seven were practicing attorneys.
None, perhaps, had a better political pedigree than John C. Breckinridge, who
at age thirty-five became the youngest vice president in United States history.
A lawyer, Breckingridge (left) won a seat in the Kentucky legislature in
1849, after which he served two terms in the U.S. House of Representatives. A
Democrat, he reluctantly ran on James Buchannan’s ticket in 1856. Nominated for
president in the 1860 election, a warrant for Breckinridge’s arrest was ordered
by Washington authorities in 1861, despite the fact that he was a sitting U.S.
Senator from a still-loyal state. By the battle of Shiloh, he was in command of
a Confederate corps and during the Vicksburg Campaign commanded a division in Joseph
E. Johnston’s so-called “Army of Relief.”
Certainly not to be outdone on the political front, however,
is John A. Logan of Illinois. Logan attended Louisville University and served
in the Mexican War in a volunteer regiment. A Free-Soil Democrat from the
southern part of the state, Logan was elected four times to the Illinois
legislature and served two terms in the U.S. House of Representatives. As a
supporter of the fugitive slave act, Logan’s loyalty, like Breckinridge’s, was questioned
by radical abolitionists, but he enlisted in the Union army and was among the
most capable of the division commanders in Grant’s army during the Vicksburg
Campaign. Logan was later awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his
service at Vicksburg. After the war, he reentered politics, this time as a
Republican, and served in Congress until his death in 1886.
While Breckinridge and Logan had stellar political careers,
others were not nearly so successful or as publicly-minded. The worst has to be
James Madison Tuttle, who commanded a division in Sherman’s XV Corps during the
siege. Tuttle, a native of Ohio, moved to Iowa in 1846 and opened a store.
Elected sheriff and county treasurer in 1857, he joined the army and was fairly
successful as a field commander. Tuttle, however, liked to mix soldiering with
politics, and during the Vicksburg Campaign actively promoted his war record in
a bid for governor of Iowa. Tuttle lost the race in 1863 but tried again in
1864, this time using the Meridian expedition as a backdrop for his campaign.
He lost again. Then, in March, 1864, Tuttle (left) was sent to Natchez
as post commander – and his actions there give an indication why he was not
elected governor of Iowa. Tuttle basically pillaged the army’s bankroll in
Natchez, extorted money from citizens, took bribes, and regularly arrested
citizens of Natchez on trumped-up charges and then ransomed them back to their
families. Along with a U.S. Treasury official, he also engaged in profiteering.
Politicians and other officers, somewhat used to corruption, were nonetheless
appalled at Tuttle’s open lack of concern for his crimes. Within two months,
Secretary Stanton ordered that he be relieved of command and Tuttle went home
to Iowa. In examining the books in Natchez, the army determined that Tuttle
should be apprehended and prosecuted, but he never was. After the war, in fact,
he was elected the Iowa legislature and invested in meat packing plants and
southwestern mines. Tuttle finally died at one of his mines, the Jack Rabbit
Mine in Arizona, in 1892.
Other than soldiering and politics, at least five of these
future officers worked as civil engineers, mostly in designing railroads. After
the war, more would enter the growing field of railroad design and
construction. One of the best railroad men was Grenville Dodge. After
graduating from “Captain Partridge’s school” in Norwich, Vermont, Dodge was
trained as a surveyor and engineer. During the war, he was frequently called on
by his superiors to rebuild railroads in the theatre of operation and after the
war, he used this experience to get a lucrative position with the Union Pacific
Railroad, becoming the company’s chief engineer in 1866. By 1869, Dodge had
sited and laid nearly 1,100 miles of rail (only thirty miles of which had to be
upgraded by as late as 1933). In 1873, he formed a partnership with financier
Jay Gould, and together they laid another 9,000 miles of track, including a
line in Cuba. In 1901, Dodge’s personal fortune was estimated at $25 million.
In addition to engineers, the group included an architect, four farmers, one
banker, three teachers, a doctor, a jeweler, the owner of an iron works
company, a realtor, a clerk and a canal boat owner.
The architect was Confederate General John Bowen, among the
most capable of the division commanders in either army. Bowen was a West Point
graduate who, less than two years after receiving his commission as a second
lieutenant, resigned from the army and moved to St. Louis where he established
an architectural firm. With the coming of war, Bowen was captured with the
pro-southern Missouri State militia and upon his release raised the 1st
Missouri Infantry, one of the finest combat units in the Confederate army.
Bowen (left) fought at Shiloh and in most of the Vicksburg Campaign
engagements. In fact, it was Bowen who single-handedly directed the stubborn
defense of Port Gibson against John McClernand’s XIII Corps, and his troops
were frequently called on in the midst of crisis. Unfortunately, this fine
combat officer died from a bout with dysentery just nine days after the fall of
Vicksburg.
Besides Bowen, six others died during the war or shortly
thereafter. Of these, five (including Bowen) were Confederates. William Henry
Talbot Walker was killed by a sharpshooter during the Atlanta Campaign, John
Gregg was similarly killed in action in the defense of Richmond, and Earl Van
Dorn was also killed in action, but of a different sort: Van Dorn was murdered in
Spring Hill, Tennessee, in 1863, supposedly by a jealous husband named Dr.
Peters (the facts are still in dispute). Union General Thomas E.G. Ransom is
the only Union division commander to die of wounds during the war. Ransom (right),
who before the war worked as an engineer for the Rutland & Burlington
Railroad in Vermont, was wounded no less than four times – at Charleston,
Missouri, Fort Donelson, Shiloh and Sabine Crossroads in 1864, where he was
severely wounded. Still, he managed to recover and lead the XVII Corps (James
B. McPherson’s old corps) in pursuit of John Bell Hood through north Georgia
and Alabama. After the pursuit ended, Ransom was placed on a stretcher and
finally died from his as-yet unhealed wounds in Rome, Georgia.
Thomas Welsh, another division commander during the Siege of
Vicksburg, was killed as a result of the campaign in Mississippi, but not by a
bullet. Instead, Welsh contracted a malarial disease while serving at Vicksburg
and left active service to recover. He didn’t recover, however, and died on
August 14, 1863 in Cincinnati. Before the war, Welsh was a merchant, canal boat
owner, lock superintendent and Justice of the Peace in his native state of
Pennsylvania. Marcellus M. Crocker (left), another fine combat
commander, also succumbed to disease, although his death was slower. A longtime
sufferer of tuberculosis, Crocker was relieved of duty and sent to New Mexico
in hopes that a better climate might improve his condition. Returning to duty,
supposedly improved, he nonetheless died in Washington in August, 1865.
Frederick Steele only made it to 1868, when he suffered a somewhat ignominious
death, falling out of a buggy while on vacation in California. Others left the
scene not because of death but because of resignation or having been relieved
of command. Of the Union commanders, seven did not remain in the service
through the end of the war. In fact, both Issac Quinby and George Washington
Morgan left before the end of the campaign, Morgan supposedly because he was
opposed to the use of blacks as soldiers, although he had also been blamed by
Sherman for the loss at Chickasaw Bayou. Quinby, a former professor of physics
who led the unsuccessful Yazoo Pass Expedition, had been ill for some time and
left after the initial assaults before Vicksburg’s defenses. Jacob Lauman was
summarily dismissed from the army for the disastrous attack of Issac Pugh’s
brigade during the Siege of Jackson by E.O.C. Ord and Grant. It is interesting
to note than none of the Confederates resigned or were dismissed from the army
following the conclusion of the campaign.
For those who survived the war, many went on to lead
interesting and productive lives. Quite a number entered politics, often using
their military exploits to their advantage. Four former generals obtained posts
as U.S. consuls to Argentina, Uruguay, Colombia, France and Honolulu. William
Sooy Smith, who resigned from the army for “health” reasons (curiously just
after his resounding defeat at the hands of Nathan Bedford Forrest in the
Battle of Okolona in 1864), went on to become a very successful civil engineer,
building the first all-steel bridge in the world at Glascow, Missouri, and
having a hand in designing and building almost every skyscraper in Chicago
until 1910. Eugene Carr, who commanded one of the XIII Corps divisions at
Champion Hill, went on to become the nation’s most heralded Indian fighter.
After his retirement, Carr (right) was interested in and helped develop
the National Geographic Society. Peter J. Osterhaus, the German immigrant,
returned to Europe as U.S. consul to France, but also opened a successful
wholesale hardware business in St. Louis. Not all were as successful, however.
John McArthur, owner of the Excelsior Iron Works in Chicago before the war,
returned to Chicago, and, unable to restart his business, became Commissioner
of Public Works. Unfortunately for McArthur, the Great Chicago Fire of 1871
occurred on his watch and as postmaster of the city he was further embarrassed
by the loss of Federal funds in a bank failure in which he was held personally
liable. Francis Herron, after serving as U.S. Marshall in Louisiana during
Reconstruction, apparently never made a go of it in the business world and died
a pauper in New York City in 1902.
While most Confederates returned to a quieter life than
their Union counterparts, Dabney Maury was active in establishing the Southern
Historical Society, served as the U.S. diplomat to Colombia and was a nurse in
post-war years, while William H. “Red” Jackson built a successful
horse-breeding farm at Belle Meade near Nashville, producing several champion
racing horses. Perhaps the most interesting post-war career of all, though, was
that of William W. Loring. As mentioned earlier, there is no doubt that Loring was
a brave officer and at times displayed flashes of military ability, but Loring
had real trouble getting along with his superiors during the Civil War. He had
a well-publicized spat with Stonewall Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley in 1862;
when Jackson threatened to resign if Loring wasn’t removed, Loring was promptly
sent west to Mississippi (and promoted). At the time, Jedediah Hotchkiss,
Jackson’s famed mapmaker, noted that Loring struck him as “lacking in nearly
all the qualities necessary for command of an army designed to carry on an
offensive campaign…[that] he was always hesitating [in] what to do, was always
suggesting difficulties in the way of active operations, and worse than all in
my mind, he was always filling himself with brandy…” Certainly, Loring’s
ability to get along with his superiors did not improve when he came west, as
he openly despised Pemberton. Loring’s performance during the Vicksburg
Campaign can best be described as inadequate and perhaps even insubordinate.
Regardless, Loring survived the war and in 1869, at the recommendation of his
old adversary William T. Sherman, accepted a post with the Khedive of Egypt.
While not everything there was rosy, Loring (above left) spent the
better part of a decade in Egypt and attained the rank of Fareek Pasha (or
Major General) in the Egyptian Army. He also managed to visit at least eighteen
countries on an extended tour of Europe and the Middle East. After his return
to the U.S. in 1879, he published a book called A Confederate Soldier in Egypt
in 1884.
In their final moments, most of the division commanders who
served in the Vicksburg Campaign died of natural causes. Excluding those who
died during the war and in the years immediately following, the average age at
death, despite the grievous wounds many suffered as a result of combat, was an
impressive 71 years old. Fourteen, in fact, lived long enough to see the 20th
Century. Samuel W. Ferguson, who died in the State Hospital in Jackson, and Peter
J. Osterhaus, who returned to his native country, both lived long enough to see
yet another war break out – and once again, they were on technically on
opposite sides, as Germany and the United States went to blows in World War
I.
* Included for consideration are both Earl Van Dorn and John Gregg, who although did not technically have division command were given independent commands during the Vicksburg Campaign.
PHOTO AND IMAGE SOURCES:
(1) M.L. Smith: http://en.wikipedia.com
(2) Osterhaus: http://ozarkscivilwar.org
(3) Morgan: http://kdl.kyvl.org
(4) Breckinridge: http://believeinbristol.org
(5) Logan: http://www.findagrave.com
(6) Tuttle: http://wikipedia.com
(7) Dodge: http://suvcw.org
(8) Bowen: http://ozarkscivilwar.org
(9) Ransom: http://en.wikipedia.org
(10) Crocker: http://hd.housedivided.dickinson.edu
(11) Carr: http://www.blog4history.com/2006/11/forgotten-leaders-of-the-trans-mississippi-eugene-asa-carr/
(12) Loring: http://en.wikipedia.org
Shortly
after 2 a.m. on December 16, 1811, much of the mid-south was hit by a massive
earthquake. Centered near New Madrid, Missouri, the shocks were so violent that
people in far-distant Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, were awakened from their sleep
and the tremors caused church bells to ring along the East Coast of the United
States. In Savannah, Georgia, the trembling lasted about one minute, and according to a newspaper sounded like "a carriage passing over a paved path way." Closer to the epicenter, in the Mississippi and Ohio river valleys, the earthquake did much more
than simply wake people up. Throughout portions of Kentucky, Missouri, Arkansas
and Tennessee, in fact, the devastation was significant and the tremors were
even felt inside Mammoth Cave. With several aftershocks in the coming days, the
New Madrid earthquake was so powerful that the Mississippi River flowed
backwards. Along the rivers, islands disappeared and large fissures produced
giant waves which capsized boats, drowning an unknown number of people. At
Vicksburg, banks of earth crashed into the river and the earthquake in places
changed the course of the Mississippi, creating, among other things, Reelfoot
Lake in western Tennessee. 
Although
the population in 1811 – at least among whites – was not great in the affected
area, the quake certainly left an impression on those who experienced it
firsthand. According to an eyewitness account in Missouri, “The screams of the
affrighted inhabitants running to and fro, not knowing where to go, or what to
do—the cries of the fowls and beasts of every species—the cracking of trees
falling, and the roaring of the Mississippi...formed a scene truly horrible.”
After the earthquake, many people believed that a comet seen before the quake
had been a sign. Others, according to a Lexington, Kentucky, newspaper,
reported that the calamity had been “foretold by the Shawanne [sic] Prophet,
for the destruction of the whites.” If Tecumseh had anything to do with the
earthquake, of course, it ultimately did little to stop the flow of white
settlers into the region. While precise measurements had not yet been invented,
the New Madrid earthquake is estimated to have been approximately 8.9 on the
Richter Scale, easily among the most powerful to hit North America. In Mississippi,
the effects of the New Madrid quake were less severe. 
Built
in 1917, the Tallahatchie Agricultural High School was one of a number of
similar schools constructed in Mississippi in the early years of the 20th
Century. The campus was comprised of three main buildings, including an
administration building and two dormitories, all equipped with steam heat,
electric lights and "sanitary closets," plus a full complement of
farm buildings for hogs, cows and chickens. The first principal of the school
(and one of the agricultural teachers) was Avery Benjamin (A.B.) Dille. Dille
(left) played football at Mississippi A&M and earned a letter in 1910 as a
halfback. From 1914 to 1916, he taught in the agricultural department and was
the head football coach at Mississippi Normal College (now the University of
Southern Mississippi), where he compiled a record of six wins, ten losses and
one tie. In 1916, Dille’s team went 0-3, losing by a combined score of 193-0 to
Meridian High School, Mississippi College and Spring Hill in Mobile.* After the
1916 season, the football program was suspended, not because of the losses but
because of World War I and Dille took the job at Tallahatchie AHS the next
year. A.B. Dille died in 1964 and is buried in Adams County. Engraved on his
tombstone is the following inscription: "Athlete, Teacher of Our Youth,
Devoted Husband and Father, Herdsman and Tiller of the Soil, Friend to All
Mankind, Servant of The Lord." 
Like
other agricultural high schools, the Tallahatchie AHS was a boarding school and
offered a full curriculum of academic courses in addition to training in
agriculture and home economics, all designed "to improve and uplift the
rural life, to lessen drudgery, to increase comforts, to make more attractive
the home and the school and to lead in the development of a sufficient and
satisfying country civilization." Students enrolled were expected to work
on the school's farm and in the upkeep of the school and, interestingly, had
uniforms. Much like the modern debate over school uniforms, the school required
them in order to "do away with any class distinction that might exist
because of different financial circumstances of parents." Girls at
Tallahatchie AHS wore plain white dresses in warm months and plain dark dresses
during the winter, while boys were expected to wear overalls and have "one
nice suit, properly cared for" for the whole year. In its catalogue, the
school made clear to parents that "the wearing of extra fine and expensive
clothing of any kind will not be allowed." In addition to academics,
students were also expected to attend some church and Sunday School each week
and were required to participate in devotional periods each morning. The
religious instruction was necessary, according to the school's catalogue, since
"no training is complete unless the head, the hand and the heart are
trained." Tuition for the school was free to any students from
Tallahatchie County and very affordable for those outside the county (in 1920
it was $2 per month). Boarding fees were based on how much food, heat, etc.
were used by the students, with the cost divided equally among all boarders. 
