Under Siege! (3 page)

The Union officers had been surprised, thinking that once they had their boats in position opposite the town, surrender would quickly follow. But the Confederates knew the Union guns were not powerful enough to damage the Vicksburg cannon. And just as suspected, the gunboats lobbed a few harmless shells at the town and then gave up and went away.

While townspeople had breathed a sigh of relief, they knew the boats were a warning of what was to come. In preparation, additional Confederate troops arrived to shore up protection of the guns and the city, and more cannon were added to strengthen the artillery batteries on the bluffs and along the waterfront. Some folks boarded up their homes and moved to the country. Most stayed—out of defiance, to protect their property, or because they had nowhere else to go.

If the Union intended to bombard the city, then townspeople had to find protection. They realized that caves would be the safest place. The Vicksburg soil was soft and easy to dig in, and some people already had caves that they used for storage. The idea of taking shelter in the ground wasn’t appealing—caves were hot, dirty, and full of bugs and snakes. But that was better than being exposed to exploding shells.

After that first Yankee assault, cave digging began in earnest. People wanted their caves to be as close to their homes as possible so they could get to them quickly. There were so many hills in Vicksburg that it was not hard to find a location. Slaves dug many of the caves that now began to dot the landscape. Most were ordered to do so by their owners, but a few were paid for this task and allowed to keep the money. Joe Davis, the brother of Confederate president Jefferson Davis, owned a plantation near Vicksburg. When there was still steamboat traffic on the river, he had allowed his slaves to sell wood, eggs, and produce from their gardens to the passengers and to keep their meager earnings. But most slaves allowed to work for money earned only enough to make their lives a little easier by purchasing needed food and clothing, for the average slave was both undernourished
and poorly dressed. Still, there were rare stories of slaves saving enough money to purchase their own freedom. About fifty freed blacks lived in Vicksburg. Almost all of them had been given freedom by their former masters, and they lived simply, usually doing odd jobs to support themselves. Several had special skills as bricklayers or blacksmiths.

This photograph, taken in 1862, shows five generations of one Southern black family.

Apart from these few exceptions, slavery was a fact of life in the agricultural South, and children like Lucy who grew up with slavery usually did not question it. Most slaves lived on plantations and worked in the fields. Those lucky enough to be house servants enjoyed a higher status. They worked as cooks, maids, butlers, and drivers, and as mammies who cared for their white owners’ children. Lucy’s family owned Rice and also owned a slave named Mary Ann. Rice and Mary Ann had separate shacks behind the McRae home that were nicer than most slave cabins on plantations, and they had better food and clothing. But they were still slaves, and as their owners, Lucy’s parents could punish them or sell them if they wished.

Lucy knew how much Rice, especially, wanted his freedom. For him, the arrival of the Yankees could signal a whole new life.

I
N
J
UNE 1862
, six weeks after their first attack, the Yankees returned. This time they came not only with more boats but also with more powerful guns. As the fleet steamed into view, hundreds of people hurried to Sky Parlor Hill. They watched in shock and horror as the ironclads opened fire.

Lucy’s mother had wanted to leave Vicksburg when the gunboats had appeared the first time, but Mr. McRae had firmly refused. When the gunboats came back in June, Lucy was at home when she heard the first explosion. As an adult she recalled, “One bright afternoon men, women and children could be seen seeking the hilltops with spyglasses, as from the heights could be seen a black object slowly approaching along the river. Suddenly a shell came rattling over as if to say, ‘Here I am!’

“My mother was much alarmed, but still faithful to womanly curiosity, stood on the upper porch of our house to see the gunboat, if possible. Another shell, and still another, and the hills began to be deserted.

“The gunboat, seeing that her shells were falling short, ventured a little closer, and sent a few shells into the town. People sought their homes, but sleep visited few, as the shelling continued until late that night.

“The next morning the shelling began very early, and the women and children were to be seen running by every road that led out of the town.”

Lucy and her family stayed put. For two long days the Union fleet hurled shells at Vicksburg. Loud, thunderous booms, one after another, rattled windows and numbed eardrums. Shells knocked holes through the walls of houses, damaged the Methodist church, tore up sidewalks, and blasted craters in yards. Lucy’s home was not damaged, but she grieved with townspeople over the death of a woman well known in the community who was killed by a shell as she ran for safety.

Finally, guns blazing, the Federal ships managed to fight their way past the Vicksburg batteries, but their crews suffered casualties, and what had been gained? Any ships that tried to do the same would face the same. The Federal commander felt Vicksburg could only be taken by attack from both land and river. As for the bombardment of the city, he felt it had served no purpose. The guns of Vicksburg were still in place.

That had been six months ago. Now it was December, and as Lucy looked through her spyglass from Sky Parlor Hill, her warm coat buttoned to her chin, all was quiet below her. The Confederacy still controlled the river.

These sailors onboard the USS
Mendota,
a steam-driven gunboat, saw action in the battle for Richmond. While fewer sailors than soldiers lost their lives in the war, naval service was demanding and full of peril. Most naval battles were fought within sight of land-either along the coast, in bays, or in Southern rivers like the Mississippi.

Eggnog parties were popular in the South during the Christmas season.

THE CHRISTMAS EVE BALL
December 24, 1862

V
icksburg dressed up for Christmas. The Yankees might not be far away, but this beloved holiday would go on as always. Garlands, wreaths, and holly decorated the classic black iron grillwork and stately white columns of the town’s most prominent homes. Just as they had for generations, families planned to celebrate the holiday by attending special church services, hosting eggnog parties, singing Christmas carols, decorating Christmas trees, and lighting the Yule log. Holiday dinners would include turkey, ham, oysters, plenty of side dishes, and gingerbread, custard pies, sponge cake, and plum pudding. Vicksburg gentlemen would still have their fine Southern cigars and Southern bourbon to finish off a splendid meal.

Because of the blockade, society women could not order new gowns from Paris to wear to the annual Christmas Eve Ball, but in spite of this, everyone was in a festive mood. The Yankees didn’t seem like much of a threat at the moment. Their leader, General Ulysses Grant, who had defeated the Confederates at Shiloh, had set up a huge supply base at Holly Springs, Mississippi, near the Tennessee border, and no doubt thought he could attack Vicksburg from there. But in a daring raid just days earlier, the Rebels had destroyed the base, forcing Grant to retreat to Memphis.

The ball was a wonderful way to celebrate this victory, and on Christmas Eve, the elite of the city bundled up against the cold and blustery weather and climbed into their carriages. They made their way along the steep streets to the stately mansion of Dr. and Mrs. William Balfour, where they were greeted by their hosts. The mansion’s ballroom was festooned with fragrant, fresh-cut greenery. The lavish refreshment table, lighted by massive candelabra, groaned under the weight of meats, cakes, pies, and other sweets. Guests were served punch from Mrs. Balfour’s elaborate silver punch bowl, and they sipped champagne and wine poured from exquisite cut-glass decanters.

Amid hoop skirts and dashing military uniforms, as the orchestra played merrily, guests were swept up in music, laughter, and dancing. At least for this one evening, they could quite easily believe that there was no war.