THE CIVIL WAR IN MADISON PARISH
From
The Madison Journal Centennial Issue August 14, 1975, Section III
pp. 1-8
(Slightly modified from original – Richard P. Sevier)
Madison Parish,
with it’s planter aristocracy, cotton economy and complete dependence on slave
labor had as much to lose from abolitionism as did any other parish or county
in the Confederacy. A nine to one black majority-but no one needed to see the
Census figures. They knew what Lincoln's Republicans had to offer them - a gun
or a ballot In the hand of an illiterate former slave. It didn't matter which.
The call was
undeniable. Madison responded with money, fighting men and fervent patriotism.
Yet it was not prepared for the realities of war, or for the two Union
bloodhounds, Grant and Sherman, who descended the river sniffing after
Vicksburg.
Grant and
Sherman - inventors of a new type of war unfamiliar to Madisonians. It was war
which involved the unpitying destruction of civilian property.
Before
Gettysburg, Atlanta, and Appomattox, the people of Madison Parish could see
what the war would mean for them. There wasn't going to be much left when the
shooting stopped.
Even before
secession was formalized, the military companies were being organized.
Immediately after the secession convention, the state legislature set up a
military board and appropriated half a million dollars to equip and arm
companies with at least 30 men.
The attack on
Fort Sumter and Lincoln's call to arms convinced many that there was no hope
for peace. Madison's sons began forming and joining companies in droves. Most
of them saw the war as "an outing for dashing young officers in splendid
uniforms, inspired to deeds of valor by patriotic maidens (in Dr. Anderson's
words)." [Note: Dr. Anderson edited the book "Brokenburn - The
Journal of Kate Stone 1861-68"]
They were as
eager for the promotions and prestige of being a soldier as they were for
serving their new nation. They knew the war could not last long. Yankees were
incapable of learning to use a gun or of mustering enough courage to fight.
Besides they were insolvent and could not pay for an expensive war. Many young
soldiers were driven by the fear that when the war was over, they would not be
able to say they had seen fighting.
Of course, there
was many a farmer and overseer that "a rich man's son's too good to fight
the battles of the rich." They were partly correct, for some planters,
realizing the danger more than most, refused at first to allow their sons to
leave. But, all in all, Madison was one of a few parishes to furnish both more
men and more money than the state requested.
One of the
earliest companies to attract volunteers from Madison Parish was the Carroll
Guards of Carroll Parish. A number of companies were formed in Madison Parish,
a surprising act considering Madison's sparse white population. Some
better-populated parishes furnished only one company, or none at all. Units
formed in Madison Parish included the Madison Dragoons, Macon Cavalry, Madison
Infantry, Madison Cavalry, Madison Light Artillery, Madison Company, Milliken’s
Bend Guards and Madison Tipperaries.
The last group,
the Madison Tips, no doubt upset some local notions about foreign immigrants.
It was made up of Irishman from Country Tipperary in Ireland. They had been
working on the levee until May, 1861, when a shortage of levee funds threatened
them with unemployment. They enlisted and formed the Madison Tips. The Tips are
said to have been famous fighters who "relished a melee for its own
sake." When not fighting the enemy, they fought each other. No doubt they
proved to be fearsome soldiers.
Foreign
immigrants, whom so many Madison planters had feared, were some of the most
patriotic Southerners. Probably the most famous Confederate officer to emerge
from the parish was an immigrant, Dr. Henry Wirz.
Negro slaves
also went to the confederate side of the battlefield - not to fight, but to
relieve their masters of such domestic drudgery as cooking, washing, sewing and
caring for the horses. Occasionally the master would have to be left sick or
wounded at a country house; the slave would stay behind and care for him.
The state could
not financially support the every increasing number of military companies. The
Madison Parish Police Jury was one of those which came to the aid of the state
by helping equip companies. Individual planters contributed large sums, and
sewing societies helped furnish badly needed uniforms. After cloth became
scarce, they knitted gloves for the soldiers.
By the end of
1861, most of the Madison men who wanted to fight -- and that was a great many
-- and were of age, had already left for the front. Their companies were far
away in Virginia, Missouri and other states. The threat to the Mississippi
River was becoming more apparent, and Madison Parish was left undefended.
Although this
made the women and children very uneasy, it was no doubt a good thing. A small
contingent of stubborn local men fighting for their homes against the
inevitable Federal occupation would have made the destruction that did occur
take place sooner before Madisonians had a chance to prepare for it. Certainly
the lives lost would have equaled in magnitude the destruction of property.
However, the
lack of "men folk" on the plantations created an immediate problem:
who was to handle the slaves, who naturally grew jumpy and insubordinate with
the real or imagined approach of Federal troops (from the beginning of the war,
many slaves were certain they would soon be freed). To relieve this problem,
the state provided that one white man on each plantation could be exempted from
military service.
This made
non-slave owners feel they were being discriminated against. To encourage these
people to volunteer the Police Jury offered $80 to anyone joining the parish's
new companies. An additional $15 was to be paid each month to the soldier's
family. Many parishes had bounty systems, but few were as liberal as Madison's.
It is doubtful whether the Jury continued its $15 payments for very long. No
one serving the Confederacy was regularly paid; few expected to be.
A conscription
law making all able-bodied white male citizens between the ages of 18 and 35
liable to serve in the Confederate army was passed by the Confederate Congress
on April 16, 1862. These conscripts were not eligible for bounties. According
to Kate Stone, author of Brokenburn, there were many
"stay-at-homes" in the parish who that it would not be enforced. Kate
hoped they were wrong, and angrily excoriated these "fireside
braves." She gained the reputation probably exaggerated, of refusing to
speak to anyone who wasn’t a solider.
A more bitter
pill to swallow was the fall of New Orleans in April. Gov. Moore ordered that
all cotton in Madison Parish, and other areas in danger of enemy occupation, be
destroyed to keep it out o enemy hands. Some planters were able to haul their
cotton to safety west of the Tensas River and Bayou Macon. Most did not have
the time or means of transportation to do this, and they complied with the
governor's order.
All along the
Mississippi River, cotton fires lit up the skies. The slow-burning bales were
cut open and doused with liquor to help them burn. Kate Stone watched sadly as
$20,000 worth of her mother's cotton went up in smoke. It was a grim reminder
that soon Federal gunboats would be at their doorstep. "Fair
Louisiana," she cried, "with her fertile fields of cane, and cotton,
her many bayous and dark, old forests, lies powerless at the feet of the enemy".
The smoke of the
burning cotton had not quite died from the air when Natchez, MISS. surrendered
to Commander S. P. Lee of the Union Navy. Lee, with six gunboats and troops
under the command of General Thomas Williams, pushed on to Vicksburg. He was
joined there on May 18 by Admiral David Farragut; together they demanded the
surrender of Vicksburg. The city refused.
Vicksburg was
furiously setting up defenses. Eight thousand Confederate soldiers had been
quickly drawn from Louisiana and Mississippi to man the citadel, and eight or
ten heavy guns were mounted on the high bluff overlooking the river. The people
of Madison Parish were delighted at the city's bold stand and hoped it would
fight to the last, but they did not understand the reason for it. They were
sure Vicksburg could not hold out for long.
The Federals had
more respect for Vicksburg than did the Confederates. General Williams didn't
think he had enough troops to attack the fortress. Admiral Farragut, nervously
eyeing Vicksburg's artillery, abandoned the idea of trying to run past the
city. Both officers returned downriver, leaving six gunboats to harass the
city.
The Federals
returned to Vicksburg in late June, bringing a fleet of gunboats, mortars, and
over 3,000 troops. On June 29 they attempted to run past the Vicksburg
batteries. Confederate gunners blazed away at the slow-moving fleet,
splintering masts, damaging hulls, and finding human targets, while befuddled
Union gunners fired more often at exploding shells than at real targets.
However, all
except three ships had reached safety above the batteries by sunrise. They had
prayed that the section of the Mississippi by Vicksburg was not impassable. Yet
as long as the Vicksburg guns remained effective, the way was not clear for any
large-scale Union action on the river.
With that
realization, the Union began a series of engineering ventures which proved to
be some of the most costly and useless efforts of the entire war. General
Williams set his men to digging a cut-off canal a mile and a quarter long
across a peninsula of Madison Parish directly opposite Vicksburg. The ditch was
named Young's Point canal after the spot from which it began.
The Union
engineers believed that a ditch four to six feet wide and about five feet deep
would divert the channel of the river, and that the rushing waters would dredge
out a canal deep enough to admit any ship. There would be far less danger in
using this route than in sailing directly under the guns of the city. If all
went well and the expected "June rise" came, the course of the
Mississippi would be diverted and Vicksburg would be left an inland city, with
her batteries useless.
Twelve hundred
Negroes were confiscated from nearby plantations and set to work cutting down
trees, removing roots and digging in the hard clay with shovels. Though they
had no shelter at night and little to eat, the Negroes laughed and shouted at
their work having been told that they were "earning their freedom."
While Williams' men wilted in the oppressive heat, the sweating Negroes
flourished.
By July 11 the
ditch had reached an average width of 18 feet and was 13 feet deep, or about
one-and-a-half feet below the level of the river. Preparations to let in the
water were hastened, but suddenly the banks began to cave, and the work had to
be temporarily abandoned. After digging furiously for three days, Williams was
disheartened to find the river falling faster than his men could dig.
The General was
determined to make the canal a success. He sent soldiers up and down the parish
gathering Negro workers, food and anything else they liked. Some planters moved
or sent their Negroes to Bayou Macon and beyond. Others whiled away their time
visiting, giving fish fries and picnics, and playing chess, backgammon and
cards, ignoring the presence of danger and the nerve-wracking, continuous roar
of the cannons at Vicksburg.
Admiral Farragut
had much to worry him during the long, hot July days. The greatest and most
immediate menace to his fleet was the recently completed Confederate ram, the
"Arkansas"' which was. anchored up the Yazoo River. The Arkansas was
160 feet long and 35 feet wide, and wore an armor of railroad iron 4.5 inches
thick.
The Arkansas
entered the Mississippi River just above Vicksburg on the morning of July 15.
It ran through the gantlet of the combined forces of Commander Charles Davis,
Admiral Farragut, and the ram fleet under Col. Alfred W. Ellet. The Union
vessels were unable to build up sufficient steam to move and remained anchored
in their original positions, pouring their broadsides into the ram.
For an hour the
Arkansas drifted slowly down the long line of Union gunboats, rams, mortars and
allied vessels, taking their fire and returning it with full measure.
Miraculously, the Arkansas reached the protection of the upper batteries and
was now safe to move directly to Vicksburg. The entire lower fleet panicked and
fled downstream. One mortar caught fire and blew up. Infantry regiments camped
on the Louisiana shore set fire to their stores, stampeded to their transports,
and ran down the river,.
But by that time
the Arkansas was too damaged to attack. Its armor plate and one of its engines
had taken a severe beating. Frustrated and angry, Farragut devised plans to
finish it off. At dawn on July 22 he sent the formidable ironclad ram
"Essex," commanded by W. D. Porter, to strike the Arkansas.. The
"Essex" both inflicted and received damage, and finally was forced to
seek refuge with the lower fleet.
Shortly
thereafter, the ram "Queen of the West," commanded by Col. Ellet,
appeared and ran head on into the Arkansas. It rammed the Confederate vessel
twice more, shaking up both ships but inflicting no real damage. By this time
the Queen had been struck over 20 times by shot and shells and was much cut up.
Col. Ellet abandoned his attack and made a run for safety back to the upper
fleet.
Farragut,
humiliated by this lone Confederate ship, was ready to give up and return to
the Gulf. Meanwhile, Gen. Williams' first canal attempt had proven a failure,
and he was busy digging a new ditch. The unacclimatized Northerners continued
to suffer from the torrid midsummer heat and from swarms of malarial mosquitoes.
Swearing men,
alternately seared with burning fever and racked by chills, overtaxed every
hospital facility. Every inch of space aboard the transports had to be used as
a sick bay, and the supply of quinine was soon exhausted. For weeks the men had
nothing to drink except the muddy waters of the Mississippi, and nothing to eat
but salt pork and moldy hardtack.
An army career
man and a graduate from West Point, Williams worshipped discipline and was
disgusted with the frailties of his men. Determined to toughen them so that
they could weather the broiling sun, he ordered daily drills with full
knapsacks. Reported Captain O'Brien of the Ninth Connecticut: "I saw men
drop out of line exhausted, and when we returned many of them would be dead.
This drill and parading was done when the thermometer registered 110 to 115 in
the shade."
This
conditioning exercise failed. By mid-July over 1,500 men (half the force) were
either dead or too sick to work. Men who died were wrapped in army blankets and
buried in the levee without any type of funeral ceremony. Finally the whole
project was given up. The entire Union force, including Farragut, Williams and
his emaciated men, left for Baton Rouge on July 24.
Williams had
promised Negro laborers their freedom. Many had gladly left wives and children
behind to work on the canal. Now the general went back on his word and deserted
them, leaving them gathered on the levee shrieking with woe as the boats moved
down the river.
The citizens of
Madison Parish had known all along that Williams' canal project could not
succeed. It had been started at a point where the river current flowed away
from the shore, and extended at the wrong angle. Even if the ditch had been
deeper than the level of the river, it still would not have diverted the
river's course. They had been highly amused at this dubious example of
"Yankee ingenuity."
More mystifying
was the Union forces' failure to attack Vicksburg while it had so few men in
its garrison. The city now had time to make itself almost impregnable to
assault. Such was the logic of war that Vicksburg would stand another year
against the Union forces and would cost thousands of lives before it finally
fell.
The Confederates
were once again in complete control of Madison Parish. The parish was more or
less safe for the rest of the year. Yet occasionally something would happen to
demonstrate the power of the Union forces over the area. On the night of August
18, Federal gunboats slipped down the river and completely surprised a
Confederate steamer, the Fair Play, which was loading its cargo of guns and
ammunition at Milliken's Bend.
The next day
Federal gunboats landed above DeSoto (the terminus of the railroad, directly
across the river from Vicksburg) and sent a detachment over to Tallulah to cut
the railroad. They burned the depot of the V. S & T. Railroad at Tallulah
and captured Confederate supplies awaiting shipment. The 31st Louisiana
Regiment stationed there fled for their lives.
Incidents like
these caused many planters to pack up and move to Arkansas or Texas in this
interim. No one, however, could escape the effects of the Union blockade.
Madisonians were plagued with shortages of flour, molasses, clothing, medicine
and other essentials.
As early as
1842, James M. Downes, editor of the Richmond Compiler, had warned
parish citizens of the danger of being economically dependent on their
potential enemies. They had not listened, and now had to pay the price.
"In proportion as we have been a race of haughty, indolent, and waited-on
people," wrote Kate Stone in 1862, "so now are we ready to do away
with all forms and work and wait on ourselves."
Prices shot up
phenomenally on everything, and some items could not be had in southern stores
at any price. Meanwhile, occupation forces challenged southern pride by
offering goods at ridiculously low prices. Of course the patriotism of some
Madisonians did not stand up under the temptation. Others did their best with
what they had, and what they came up with shows that ingenuity is not limited to
Yankees.
For example,
substitutes for flour that were tried included rice flour, cornmeal, hominy,
pea-meal, sorghum flour, "pumpkin bread," acorns, persimmons, clover
and lilies.
Madisonians made
"okra coffee" out of okra seed, after experimenting with parched
potatoes, parched pindars, burned meal and roasted acorns.
"Confederate
ink" was made from the bark of magnolia, dogwood, red or white oak, the
rind of pomegranate, elderberries or green persimmons. Homemade shoe blacking,
"just as shiny as the old bought blacking," was a mixture of soot or
lampblack and molasses, egg whites, and vinegar, with oils and sometimes
whiskey, added.
A shortage
difficult for many southern women to accept was the lack of clothing. As a
whole, they were not exceptionally skilled in sewing; their clothes were the
best New Orleans had to offer. Now, as Kate Stone put it, "fashion is an
obsolete word and just to be decently clad is all we expect."
She described
the making of shoes: "We cut up an old pair of gaiters and slippers for a
pattern. We make the uppers of broadcloth, velvet, or any strong black goods we
can get, and the shoemaker for the Negroes puts on the soles. They are not to
say elegant looking but we are delighted be able to make them, and they are far
better than bare feet."
While the
remaining Madison families worried about shoes and other necessities, Union
leaders were making plans for the area. They wanted to split the Confederacy by
taking complete control of the Mississippi River, and they realized that to do
that, they would have to take Vicksburg.
The first steps
in devising a new strategy were taken in October, 1862, when Admiral David
Porter was placed in command of the Union naval forces on the Mississippi, and
Gen. Ulysses S. Grant was given command of the Union land forces involved in
the effort.
Grant held a
conference with Gen. William T. Sherman that December. They worked out plans
for a combined move against Vicksburg. Their first plan was to attack the city
from the north and west. Grant would take his army down from Tennessee to
Jackson, Miss., and then move to the rear of Vicksburg. With the aid of
Porter's fleet, Sherman would descend the river to Chickasaw Bluffs north of
Vicksburg, and aid Grant when he finally arrived.
Sherman began
his part of the plan on December 20. He had an armada of transports under his
command, including some fifty regiments, ten batteries, sixty guns, and about
32,000 men.. Before dawn on Christmas day the troops landed in Madison Parish
at Milliken's Bend.
With Sherman was
a division under Gen. A.. J. Smith. Smith had orders to seize control of the
railroad opposite Vicksburg and stop the flow of supplies from west of the
river. On Christmas morning, part of Smith's command set out for Dallas
station, which was where Tendal is now. They destroyed the 200-foot wooden
railroad bridge spanning the Tensas.
A small
detachment destroyed the Delhi station and the bridge over Bayou Macon the next
day. Smith and his men returned to the river, having accomplished their mission
and having met no resistance anywhere. In all, they had destroyed several
cotton gins, railroad depots, bridges and the Negro quarters on one plantation.
In addition, they had captured 300 head of cattle, 200 horses and mules, and 75
Negro slaves.
Sherman,
however, found it impossible to take Chickasaw Bluffs. The Confederate guns
stationed there forced him back each time he tried to break through. On Jan. 1
he turned his command over to General John McClernand.
Grant's strategy
wasn't working either. His idea was to meet Confederate Gen. John Pemberton,
commander at Vicksburg, out in the field and defeat him, easily taking over
Vicksburg. But Confederate Generals Earl Van Dorn and Nathan Bedford Forrest
destroyed his lines of communication and supply. Grant had to withdraw back to
Memphis.
With this
withdrawal, Grant committed himself to a river campaign against Vicksburg.
Already denounced by northern newspapers, the general was under pressure to
prove his worth as a commander. The Union desperately needed a new victory.
Determined to give it one, Grant moved to Milliken's Bend to take personal
charge of the operations there. McClernand, Sherman, and James B. McPherson
were appointed. his corps commanders.
The Union
officers in Madison Parish wore a curious mixture of ambition, pride, jealousy,
resourcefulness and real fighting spirit. McClernand, for example, was angry
with Grant for taking over his troops and assigning him to a less important
position.
The recently
married general had brought his new bride along on the expedition to share with
him the honor of a brilliant victory over Vicksburg. He tried Grant's patience
with his delaying tactics and near insubordination. McClernand spent most of
his time honeymooning at Perkins' plantation.
David Porter,
Commander of the Union naval forces around Vicksburg, was given to exaggeration
and boastfulness. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton accused Porter of being a
"gas bag. - - , blowing his own trumpet and stealing credit which belongs
to others." He was reckless, resourceful, goaded by ambition, and
possessed abundant energy; these qualities, though occasionally getting him
into trouble, served him well in the trying time ahead.
General Sherman,
who later gained fame for his destructive march through Georgia, was quite
familiar with Louisiana. At the time of secession he was superintendent of
Louisiana Seminary of Learning, later known as Louisiana State University. When
the state withdrew from the Union he quit his post and returned to his home in
Ohio.
A West Point
graduate of 1840, William T. Sherman had had a speckled military career. Having
served as a colonel in Virginia and at a brigadier general in Kentucky, he had
yet to display any marked talents for leadership. He was relieved from command
in Kentucky for being beset by haIIucinations and unreasonable fears.
General Sherman
later began a new climb to success at Shiloh and Corinth under Grant. Yet his
continued advancement depended on the success of the Vicksburg venture which
had begun unfavorable.
As a man,
Sherman was an eccentric mixture of strength and weakness. Although he was
impatient, often irritable and depressed, petulant, headstrong, and
unreasonable gruff, be had solid soldierly qualities. His men swore by him and
most of his fellow officers admired him.
Grant, too, was
on trial at Vicksburg. He was at the turning point of his career. After
outstanding victories at Fort Donelson and Shiloh in 1862, Grant had fallen
from public attention and favor. His retreat from Mississippi and rumors that
he was foundering in the overflowed lands of Louisiana, and would probably fail
at Vicksburg caused many people to assign Grant to a class with McClellan,
Buell, and other Union rejects.
His critics
besieged President Lincoln, accusing Grant of being a habitual drunkard, of
needlessly wasting men in battle, and of committing stupid maneuvers. The
President listened but chose to withhold judgement until after Grant had been
given sufficient time to prove himself. After all, Grant was a fighting man,
and commanders who were not afraid to fight were somewhat rare in the Union
army at that time.
Grant was a
modest, honest and judicial man, direct in all his thoughts and ways. He never
cursed nor seemed to lose control of his temper. Although quiet and hard to
know, he loved a humorous story and the company of his friends.
As many leaders,
military or otherwise, do when they are stuck in a troublesome situation, Grant
opted for the least dangerous course. Attacking the enemy directly could lead
to a few defeats which the general could not afford. Instead, he provided the
north with an engineering spectacle, the progress of which the people could
follow day by day, thus diverting their minds from Grant's immediate, dismal
prospects.
The general sent
McClernand to Young's Point, just above Delta Point. McClernand's orders:
resume work on the canal started by General Williams the summer before.
Realizing Williams' mistake in beginning his canal in an eddy, Grant directed
that a new opening be made where the current struck the bank with the most
force.
McClernand's men
met much the same fate that Williams' men had met earlier. While Williams
fought intense heat and malaria, McClernand encountered cold winter rains,
smallpox and pneumonia. Tents were not issued to the troops because they were
within range of the Vicksburg guns, so the more enterprising men dug holes in
the levee and covered them with their black rubber blankets.
Thousands of
soldiers fell sick, and soon the levee was lined with new graves. McClernand
turned the direction of the canal construction over to Sherman. Privately,
Sherman expressed his view of the project to a Jan. 28 letter to his brother,
John: "Here we are ... at Vicksburg on the wrong side of the river trying
to turn the Miss. by a ditch, a pure waste of human labor. "
If Sherman was
somewhat disillusioned, the men digging the canal were even more so. Wrote
Sergeant Cyrus F. Boyd: "I do not believe our commanders know what we are
here for. But they will keep the men employed until they can think up
something."
Boyd's belief
was justifiable, but it was not the entire truth. Theoretically the project had
a possibility of success. The annual spring rise was just beginning, and water
was flowing into and filling up the canal. Grant knew that it was futile to try
to make Vicksburg an inland city. His prime concern was to find a way to
transport troops below Vicksburg so they could attack the city from the south.
The entire
countryside was flooded with two or three feet of water, making it impossible
to move troops through the parish by land. They could not be moved by boat,
either, unless a channel could be dug deep enough. A canal might bring early
success and make Grant a hero. If not, it would keep the men busy and
functioning as a unit until the water receded in April or May, making overland
travel possible.
Thousands of men
were put to work on the project. Negroes were rounded up from as far away as
Lake Providence and transported to Young's Point to join the labor force.
Racial prejudice ran strong in the Union camp, especially among the Western
men. The men in our camp treat them (the Negroes) worse than brutes,"
reported Sergeant Boyd, "and when they come into camp cries of 'Kill him'
etc. are heard on every hand."
The canal at
Delta proved to be a failure because not enough water emptied from the river to
make it navigable. Grant already had plans for other canals, as several methods
of getting to the rear of Vicksburg were suggested. One prospect was a canal at
Lake Providence, 60 river miles above, linking the Mississippi with Baxter
Bayou.
The route would
run through Baxter into Bayou Macon, then into the Tensas, Black and Red Rivers,
and finally returning back up the Mississippi. This route would have been
hundreds of miles long. It was also hopeless because of the miles and miles of
trees which would have to be cut in the bayous. In spite of all this, Grant
continued work on the canal through March.
Work on the
Young's Point Canal was still going on when, on March 7, a sudden rise of the
river caused a protective levee to break. The men barely escaped with their
lives. The troops quit work on the project and moved up to Milliken’s Bend,
which seemed like paradise compared to the "watery hell of Young's
Point."
There were
beautiful oak groves and lilacs, pecan and fig trees, dewberries in abundance
and, most important, dry land. Officers took over the abandoned mansions for
their own use. Negro quarters were used as hospitals for men still iII from the
grueling experience of Young's Point.
With the Young's
Point Canal abandoned and the Lake Providence ditch an acknowledged flop, Grant
tried again to gain: the advantage over Vicksburg with military force. Three
times in March he sent Sherman and Porter up the Yazoo River to try to approach
Vicksburg from the north; the expeditions were total failures. The general
turned again to canal-building,
The new canal
attempt, begun on April 1, was much more practical and sensible than either of
the others, it began at Duckport, -- a little river community a few miles north
of Young's Point in Madison Parish. This canal, only 300 yards long, would
connect the river with a system of bayous in Madison, rejoining the river at
New Carthage. The route would follow Walnut Bayou, Brushy Bayou, Roundaway
Bayou and Bayou Vidal back to the river
This area was
much healthier than Young's Point. It wasn't underwater to the extent that the other
area had been. Moreover, the surrounding countryside was rich with plenty of
food all the way to New Carthage. Morale Improved, and all concerned saw this
canal as the successful one. All the hand digging was complete by April 12, and
steam dredges were brought in to do the heavier work of deepening the channels.
Grant needed
this route to transport his men to New Carthage. Supplies could be run by
Vicksburg in ironclads, if need be, but the slow moving troop transports were
too easy targets for the Confederate guns.
The plan seemed
to be working as several tugs and barges were run through the bayou route. Then
the river began a sharp fall, and the depth of water in some of the bayous sank
to only a foot. The boats that were running the route at the time were trapped
and grounded between Duckport and New Carthage. They were left to corrode in
the mud. (Some parish residents remember when the rotting hulks were visible in
Walnut Bayou. They have long since disappeared.)
The Duckport
canal, after such a promising start, also was a failure. Yet the fall of the
river was best thing that had happened to the campaign so far. It made possible
an overland route - actually the easiest route of all. Grant's methods of
biding time, placating the public - and the press, and keeping the troops
occupied, had at last paid off. By the end of April, the river had fallen
enough to begin the overland route.
Grant's plan was
to march his troops to a point below the Vicksburg guns, ferry them across to the
Mississippi side, and from there proceed overland to the rear of Vicksburg. A
force under General McClernand had been sent to reconnoiter the route from
Milliken's Bend to New Carthage on March 29. The 69th Indiana and a section of
artillery under Col. T. W. Bennett arrived at Richmond on March 31.
Troops from Maj.
Isaac F. Harrison's 15th Louisiana Cavalry held the town. Bennett's men crossed
Roundaway Bayou in yawls and scattered the Confederates in a short skirmish.
The Union Engineers built a bridge 200 feet long across the bayou three days
later, tearing down log houses for building material.
The advance
party under Gen. P. J. Osterhaus moved on to New Carthage, occupying the
Stansbrough house and the Holmes' (now Trinidad) plantation along the way. The
Federals found that the bayou levee above New Carthage had broken in several
places, flooding the road-for two miles. Osterhaus, camped at Smith's (Point
Clear) Plantation, sent some men with Negro guides to seize a flatboat. .
Maj. Harrison,
commander of the Confederate forces in the vicinity, had a force of only a few
hundred men with which to hinder the Yankee advance. A small company of
planters fired unsuccessfully upon Osterhaus' men while they were towing the
flatboat back to camp. The next day, April 6, Osterhaus crossed the flooded
area and occupied New Carthage. Harrison had to retreat to Perkins' plantation,
Somerset.
With the land
route to New Carthage secure and the flood waters already falling, Grant was
ready by mid-April to make his combined land and river move. Porter prepared
his transports for passing the Vicksburg batteries by lining the decks and
machinery with bales of cotton and hay and sacks of grain. Barges loaded with
coal, forage and equipment were to be towed below by the transports.
The operation
began on the moonless night of April 16. With no lights showing and with as
little noise as possible, the boats got under way. Porter led off in the Benton
and was followed at 200-yard intervals by five other gunboats, three transports
and barges, with the gunboat Tuscumbia bringing up the rear.
The lead boats
had already passed the upper fort when they were discovered. The Confederates,
who were holding a grand ball at Vicksburg, were startled to hear the hillside
guns shattering the quiet of the night. A detail of Confederate troops rowed
across the river to DeSoto and quickly set fire to the railroad depot and
adjoining shacks. This was done to give the gunners on the hill a clear shot at
the boats outlined by the bonfires.
The battle was
an awesome spectacle for the dancers who had left the Vicksburg ball. The view
began to lose its appeal as Union gunboats laid shells in the streets. The
citizens were forced to flee the city or take refuge in caves. Gen. Grant
didn't miss the show either. His headquarters boat was anchored in midstream as
close to the upper batteries as possible. With him were his wife and children,
who had recently joined him at Milliken's Bend.
The action raged
for over two hours. The batteries bombarded the slow-moving targets, but could
do little damage to the well-protected vessels. All of the transports except
the Henry Clay safely reached New Carthage by two o'clock. . No one had been
killed, and only 14 had been wounded.
McClernand was
moving the rest of his troops overland it this time. Muddy roads, bad weather
and surplus equipment slowed the troops down, so they didn't reach New Carthage
until April 25.
Shortly before
the running of the Vicksburg guns, Confederate Gen. Harrison had received 1800
reinforcements from Missouri. They attacked New Carthage and James' plantation
on April 15. They had the upper hand, until Union reinforcements arrived to
drive them back.
Despite this
harassment, Grant continued the movement of his troops. He ordered Gen.
McPherson at Lake Providence to move his men to Milliken's Bend and Duckport.
All sick, and disabled troops were to be left there while the rest of the men
marched to New Carthage.
The Union
soldiers had orders to collect all the supplies they needed, such as corn, cattle
and fodder, along the way. Many ransacked homes as well, and engaged in wanton
destruction. They slashed pictures and portraits, hacked rosewood chests to
pieces, ripped open feather mattresses with bayonets, and sent crystal
chandeliers crashing to the floor, while they danced madly around laughing and
shouting, inspired by the contents of a plundered wine cellar.
In the end, the
torch was set to many fine homes, often against the direct orders of superiors.
Many men had reasons other than recklessness and greed for their actions.
Chaplain Thomas M. Stevenson, who was arrested for burning down a cotton gin,
complained in his diary: "If all rebel property was destroyed as soon as
we came to it, this war would end much sooner than it will be the way things
are carried on now."
This philosophy
was shared in part by Gen. Grant, many of whose classmates. at West Point had
been southerners. He knew that the only way to beat the proud Louisiana boys
was to whip them in spirit. Yet it pained him to see beautiful plantation homes
burned for no reason.
Grant set up
headquarters at Point Clear plantation, a few miles above New Carthage. He
intended to direct the river crossing from there, yet flood waters made it
impossible to use New Carthage as a staging area. They eventually decided on
Hard Times Landing in Tensas Parish. McPherson and Sherman still had to cross
Madison Parish before action could be undertaken across the river.
Sherman's troops
were the last to arrive, having been temporarily detained at Milliken's Bend to
confuse the Confederate commander at Vicksburg, Gen. Pemberton. Half of
Porter's fleet was, left above Vicksburg for the same reason. Finally, Sherman
was ordered to move two of his divisions to Perkins' plantation, leaving the
rest of his men at Milliken's Bend, Young's Point and Richmond.
BATTLE OF MILLIKEN'S BEND (For additional details click
here)
Throughout the
campaign, Pemberton had been begging for troops to help relieve some of the
pressure on Vicksburg from the Louisiana side. Finally, Gen. E. Kirby Smith,
commander of the Trans-Mississippi Department, responded in May, 1863 with
instructions to Gen. Taylor to move up the Tensas River to Madison Parish.
Taylor gave Gen.
John Walker's Texas Division the job of disrupting Grant's supply line from
Milliken's Bend to New Carthage, reopening Confederate supply lines into
Vicksburg, and sending reinforcements over to Pemberton if possible. Walker's
division contained three brigades commanded by Gens. McCulloch, Hawes and
Randal. The plan was for McCulloch to attack Milliken’s Bend, Hawes to attack
Young's Point, and Randal to remain in reserve in Richmond. Maj. Harrison’s
Confederate cavalry which had been in the area for sometime, unwittingly
alerted the Federals to the attack. While awaiting the arrival of the rest of
the Confederate forces, Harrison learned on June 6 that the Tenth Illinois
Cavalry was moving to Richmond from Milliken's Bend. With 100 men Harrison rode
out to intercept them. He charged their line three miles from Richmond, and the
Federal force fled back to Milliken's Bend,
Brig. Gen. Elias
S. Dennis was commander of the Union garrison at the Bend. (Dennis moved back
to Madison Parish after the war, and served for several years as Sheriff.)
Believing that a major attack was in the making, Dennis asked for and got two
gunboats from Admiral Porter to help the troops.
Walker arrived
at Richmond later the same day to put the Confederate plan into effect. At dawn
the next day, June 7, McCulloch hesitantly attacked Milliken's Bend. Dennis'
defending forces numbered 1,061 men, both Yankees and inexperienced Negro
troops. McCulloch drove them to the levee; most of the white troops retreated
altogether, leaving Negroes to defend the position.
This unusual
battle was the first important engagement of the war in which black troops
fought under fire. Many of them knew little about handling a gun, having had
only a few days of drill. Yet they held their positions, fighting the
Confederates hand-to-hand with bayonets and clubbed rifles. Many Negro troops
cowered below their cotton works and were shot on the top of the head.
The Confederates
were finally dispersed by gunboat fire, which chased them back into the woods.
Hawes, who was supposed to have attacked Young's Point while McCulloch was
charging Milliken's Bend, had decided that Federal positions at the point were
too strong for his force. He had withdrawn without even testing his strength.
Thus, the whole Confederate operation was a failure.
The Confederates
were incredulous about the loss. "It is hard to believe," wrote Kate
Stone, "that Southern soldiers and Texans at that have been whipped by a
mongrel crew of white and black Yankees. There must be some mistake."
Union officers were equally disturbed by 100 white and black bodies which lined
the Milliken's Bend levee after the skirmish, and by reports that white
officers commanding Negro units absented themselves during the thick of the
battle.
All Gen. Taylor
could accomplish after the failure of the Confederate plan was the destruction
of plantations operated by the Federal government. However, In view of Union
losses at the Bend, it was decided (in Admiral Porter's words) "not to let
the rebels be enjoying themselves too much at Richmond." Gen. Dennis was
ordered to drive the Confederates out of the parish seat.
Grant ordered
Brig. Gen. Joseph A. Mower at Chickasaw Bluffs to cross the river with his
6,000 men and reinforce Dennis. He was joined on the 15th just north of
Richmond by Brig. Gen. Alfred Ellet and his Marine Brigade of some 2,000 men.
The Rebels, with only about 4,000 men and six artillery, waited for the attack
behind a wide ditch fringed with willows.
Walker's Texans
and Federals of the Fifth Minnesota skirmished for about 20 minutes. Then,
under cover of an artillery duel which lasted almost an hour, Walker slipped
his men across Roundaway Bayou, set fire to the bridge, and retreated along the
road to Delhi. Mower's cavalry pursued them for about six miles then gave up as
the Rebels were already too far ahead.
Mower rebuilt
the bridge over Roundaway and burned Richmond to the ground on June 15.
Richmond at the time had a courthouse, church, jail and at least one newspaper,
The Madison Journal. All were destroyed, and the town was never rebuilt.
Yet, some farsighted citizens had removed the courthouse records in advance and
hidden them in the back country.
The records were
later moved to a house owned by Joseph Hitchings near Tallulah Station; they
stayed there until 1868 when the parish seat was moved to Delta. The street at
which the house stood until 1960 was ironically, named North Lincoln Street.
On Independence
Day 1863, Vicksburg was forced to surrender. Grant had left Madison Parish some
time before, leaving a small occupation force. The Union General had much more
ahead of him as commander of all Federal armies. There were many more battles
to be fought before Appomattox Court House; but for Madison Parish for all
intents and purposes the war was over and reconstruction had begun.
Most plantation
families left the parish during the Federal occupation. They took what slaves
and household goods they could carry, and fled to Monroe or the hill country
beyond, some going all the way to Texas, They left many of their valuables
buried on their plantations; some of these caches were never found again and
became in future years the whimsy of treasure hunters.
The Union
officers in the parish had forbidden these planters to leave, but could not
prevent them from going. They now had the immense problem of managing the
slaves and looking after the abandoned plantations until the War was over.
The War
Department' sent Adjutant General Lorenzo Thomas into the area In April, 1863
to organize and supervise the "lessee system." Under this plan, all
slaves in the area were freed and the able-bodied men armed, and organized into
Negro units under white officers. The women, children and men unfit for army
duty were to be placed on the abandoned plantations.
These
plantations were leased by the government for one year to anyone who would
support the Negroes. The lessee plantations would be protected mainly by Negro
units, freeing the whites to fight. Speculators signed contracts with Union
agreeing to pick and gin the cotton for half shares. The black workers were
furnished by the army; the speculators agreed to feed and clothe them and pay
them one cent for every pound of cotton they picked.
Some of the
fields still had thousands of bales of cotton just waiting to be picked.
Speculators and army officers rushed to get into the act, believing that their
fortunes could be made overnight. These people were of the type that came to be
known as "carpetbaggers."
Perhaps the
first carpetbaggers were the newspaper correspondents who were assigned to
Grant's canal projects. They found the protracted, "ditch digging"
campaign extremely boring to watch and even less lucrative to write about. Many
of these newsmen turned to the business of buying and selling cotton, and
several became rich in the process.,
The Mississippi
River was opened for trade in September, 1863. Cotton and other products could
be brought to military posts along the river. Madisonians bringing goods to
these posts were paid in bank notes or family supplies. Treasury agents were
sent in to supervise this trade and take charge of the lessee system.
Carpetbaggers
and scalawags could make immense profits by renting plantations. (A scalawag
was a reconstructed rebel who tried to improve his lot by cooperating with the
carpetbaggers. A Negro preacher defined the difference between a carpetbagger
and a scalawag: "A carpetbagger came down here from some place and stole
enough to fill his carpetbag, but the scalawag was a man who knew the woods and
swamps better than the carpetbagger did, and he stole the carpetbagger's
carpetbag and ran off with it.")
Few black were
allowed to lease land; sometimes a dozen black families would lease land and
farm it together. There were 30 such black lessees around Milliken's Bend by
1864.
Many
carpetbaggers treated their Negro workers much worse than their former owners
had treated them. Those too old, too young, or too sickly were weeded out by the
Yankee lessees and sent to contraband camps where they suffered from lack of
food and clothing. Most lessees paid their workers only in food and clothing,
charging five times their normal value.
Thus, at the end
of the year, when the Negro expected to be paid, he was told he had nothing
else coming. In fact, most were informed that they instead owed the lessees
money. Some lessees realized up to $80,000 profit a year, paid their black
workers nothing and then boasted of their ability to swindle the Negro. Many of
the Negroes came to hate the Yankees more than they had their former masters.
Many of the
Provost Marshals and treasury agents in charge knew what was going on but kept
their mouths shut, having been bribed by the lessees. The blacks, who had thought
they were free and expected the government to give them "40 acres and a
mule," became totally frustrated and difficult to handle. Troops often had
to be called in to help control them.
Thievery among
the blacks became a growing problem. Increasing numbers began to run away and
roam the countryside in gangs. These gangs stole what they wanted, and killed
anyone who got in their way - women and children no exceptions. By 1864, the
activities of the Negro gangs were taken over by the jayhawkers, which were
outlaw bands made up of southern draft dodgers, deserters, runaway Negroes and
other unsavory characters.
To curtail the
jayhawkers and cotton speculators, Gen. E. Kirby Smith, Confederate Commander
of the Trans-Mississippi Department, sent two companies of guerillas into
Madison Parish. They were a part of Quantrill's Missourians who had been driven
from their home state, and were commanded by Capt. Joseph C. Lea.
Legend has it
that Lea was here earlier during the march through Madison by Gen. Grant and his
men. In a night raid upon the Federal camp at Milliken's Bend, Lea tried to
capture Grant (so it is said ) and nearly succeeded. Capt. Lea has been
described as a handsome man above six feet in height, "in the early bloom
of manhood."
Lea's guerillas
raided Federal camps and the leased plantations, arresting and hanging a number
of speculators and spies. Col. A.W. Weber, whose 51st Regiment of the U.S.
Colored Infantry was stationed at Goodrich's Landing, sent a force of 230
mounted Negro troops under Maj. C.H. Choppin to drive Lea out of the area.
Choppin raided innocent people's homes and left them burning behind him, making
destitute the people beyond the Tensas River, but he failed to catch Capt. Lea.
Operating from
his headquarters on Bayou Macon, Lea continued to make periodic raids into
Madison Parish. In September, 1864 he took a detachment to Lum's Plantation on
Willow Bayou. Nearby, in the nearly impenetrable cane and cypress brakes, hid a
band of jayhawkers who would rob, kill or capture anyone passing by on the
road. Their favorite targets were wounded or discharged Confederate soldiers on
their way home, but they were not particular about whom they killed.
Lea dressed 60
of his men in captured Federal uniforms, knowing they could be hung if captured.
The leader of the jayhawkers, a huge black, welcomed the supposed Federal
troops. Suddenly, Lea's disguised men fell upon the surprised gang and began to
slaughter them. Lea rushed up with the rest of his command and in a quick but
bloody struggle killed 130 of the group. The few who escaped never again
returned to ravage the area.
Some of
Madison's old white residents began to return in 1865. Almost everywhere they looked,
the countryside was scene. of desolation. Most of the beautiful plantation
homes had been burned, and all were shabby and in disrepair, and stripped bare
by Negroes and Federal troops. Wagons and plows stood rusting in the rain;
cattle and hogs roamed wild in the swamps; and, with the broken and
deteriorated levees, overflows had turned the fields into marshland.
Kate Stone's
reflection upon her return to Brokenburn exemplified the feelings of
many Madisonians: "The bare echoing rooms, the neglect and defacement of
all - though the place is in better repair than most-and the stately oaks and
the green grass make it look pleasant and cheerful, though gardens, orchards,
and fences are mostly swept away.
"But if the
loved ones who passed through its doors could be with us again, we might be
happy yet. But never, never, never more echoes back to our hearts like a
funeral - knell at every thought of the happy past. We must bear our losses as
best we can. Nothing is left but to endure."
The blacks, who
had had nothing to start with, also suffered immeasurably during this period.
In their ignorance and wild hopes of sudden freedom they did not know how to
take care of themselves. The carpetbagger lessees, who often ignored the
blacks' basic needs, did not help any. Many Negroes died from epidemics of
communicable diseases and lack of proper food.
The Union
officers occupying the area recognized the need of getting the plantation
system going again under its former operators. Gen. Lorenzo Thomas testified in
1866 before the Joint Committee on Reconstruction: "For Negroes to farm
for themselves does not work very well. They have to have someone to direct
them. They do not like to work under Negro overseers, but will work under their
former masters that were not cruel to them."
Thomas also
reported that most Madisonians desired "to be peaceful and quiet citizens
and obey the law. I observe little hostility. " He recommended that troops
be withdrawn from the area.
But the whites’
lack of political power galled them. Before the war Madison Parish had the
second largest black population percentage wise (88 percent) of all the
parishes in Louisiana. This had been a sign of great wealth, but after the war
it put the political reigns entirely into the hands of the black voters, or
rather into the hands of the "Radical Republicans" and carpetbaggers
who controlled the black vote.
The presidential
election of 1868 is an example of the power of the blacks, and the firm hold
the Republican party had on them. In Madison Parish, 1,453 votes were cast for
Grant and only 163 for his democratic opponent. We can be sure that none of the
local whites voted for Grant - his vote came entirely from the blacks and the
carpetbaggers. Madison's representatives in the state legislature and most
other local officials were blacks.
One can imagine
the whites' stunned reaction to this reversal of fortunes. As they struggled to
get on their feet again, contending with overflows, boll worms and impossible
taxation, they were subjected to the raids of marauding Negro bands and the
ridicule and swindling of corrupt carpetbaggers.
Most whites felt
that nothing could be done about these problems until white political supremacy
was restored and made this goal their chief ambition.
The Ku Klux Klan
was formed in the parish in the late 1860's . It was an extreme reaction to
extreme conditions, and was supported by many good people who would not have
dreamed they would be participating in such a group. They regarded the Klan's
activities a necessary evil, or even a positive good. Violence occurred on more
than one occasion during those years, including lynchings and killings.
The 1868
election had taken place in Madison without incident, though it was marred by
violence in most other Louisiana parishes. Yet, in subsequent elections in
Madison, violence and fraud became the rule, as both sides resorted to threats
and intimidation. The elections of 1872 and 1874 saw the balance of power begin
to swing back to Democrats, who managed to influence the returns by forging
ballots.
The general
failure of the government's reconstruction efforts was recognized by 1877.
President Hayes withdrew Federal troops from Louisiana, leaving the white
citizenry "on their honor" not to interfere with black voting rights.
By that time, Democrats had managed to draw some blacks over to their party by
convincing them that the Republican record in the parish and state demonstrated
that that party had done nothing for the Negroes.
It could be
easily shown that the Republicans had run the Louisiana government solely for
their own profit. The Democrats expounded that they were the true friends of
the Negro. Aided by both evidence of Republican corruption and threats of Klan
violence, the Democratic Party got a foothold into the black vote, occasionally
running token black candidates for political offices.
As late as 1884,
blacks in Madison Parish were voting and running for office. Eventually,
however, whites decided on the policy of total political supremacy. Armed
whites intimidated Negroes and kept them from voting until there was not a
single black voter left in the parish.
The number of
registered black voters would remain at zero for nearly a century. Madison had
once again gone from one extreme to another.
Most of the
carpetbaggers and speculators left the parish when they were no longer
protected by Federal troops. Yet many Union soldiers, serving with Grant during
his action around Vicksburg, admired the beauty of Madison Parish and were
impressed by its rich alluvial lands. Some returned after the war and became
Madison's most valuable citizens.
One of the most
important was Gen.
Elias S. Dennis - the same Gen. Dennis who had fought Confederate troops at
Milliken's Bend. Dennis had served as U. S. Marshal from the state of Kansas
before the war, during the period when violent disputes over the slavery
question earned the state the appellation of "Bloody Kansas."
This experience
later proved to be invaluable in helping Madison emerge from reconstruction as
unscathed as possible. Many Madisonians distrusted Dennis at first, but they
soon realized that he was not a carpetbagger and his sympathies lay with the
Democratic Party.
Some prominent
whites realized Dennis' value in being able to win the black vote and treat
whites fairly once in office. They supported Dennis in his election as parish
judge and later, as sheriff. Throughout his administration Dennis acted with
wisdom and moderation in mediating between his black and white constituents.
Dennis is said
to have been a tall man with pleasant, delicate features and long curly hair
flowing over his shoulders. A local widow so much admired him that she willed
her plantation to him. However, the will proved to be defective and Dennis
received nothing from it when she died.
He later married
another prominent widow and lived in Madison until he was very old. He then
moved back to his native state of Illinois and lived the rest of his days on a
small farm with a son by an earlier marriage.
Gen. Frank
Morey, also of the Union army, was a Representative in Congress from this
district, and made his home in Madison Parish for a number of years. He sought
re-election several times, but as a Republican he had no hope of winning after
reconstruction was over.
Friend L. and
Edward Maxwell, of Sullivan, Ind., were two of Grant's soldiers who came to the
parish after the war. They bought Killarney, Mound, California and Mexico
plantations; not on their army pay, of course. They had to work many years, and
struggle as their southern counterparts struggled to make a success. F. L.
Maxwell went bankrupt twice before he could make his mercantile business at
Mound work, but when it finally did, it made him enough profit to buy 12,000
acres.
Monetary
ambition was not all that pulled Union soldiers back to Madison after the war.
Mrs. Frances Robinson told us of an old soldier she knew at Milliken's Bend,
Joseph R. Locke, who had landed at the Bend with Grant's army.
In those days
Federal officers occupying an area would stay in the homes of local private
citizens. Locke stayed in the boarding house of a Mrs. Dolan (Mrs. Robinson
thinks that might be the name), whose husband had been killed while serving in
the Confederate Army. Strangely enough, the two fell in love, and Locke
returned to Milliken's Bend after the war and married her. He ran a grocery
store at Milliken's Bend for years. Locke stayed long after the rest of the
town moved away, and died there in June, 1925. Mrs. Robinson still has a cane
that Locke gave to her father. It was made from the cue stick of a riverboat,
and has a gold head on it.
William Murphy,
in his "Notes
From the History of Madison Parish", told of a Captain Hawkes who
drifted into the parish during reconstruction. "No one seemed to know
where he came from, nor anything of his history, and he never spoke of his
past. He was a lawyer by profession, but enjoyed only a very small practice;
and was usually penniless and dressed in clothes that were threadbare or torn.
"He was a
testy little man, quick to take offense and to resent affronts, real or
imaginary. Rumor had it that he was of aristocratic English family and this
theory apparently found some support in the fact that he kept and cherished a
book of the British peerage."
It was believed
that the Captain had never been married. He stayed with various families in the
parish. His favorite hobby was participating in the riots and racial
disturbances that occurred during reconstruction and following wherever a riot
took place; there Captain Hawkes was sure to be found in the forefront of
action. He was also fond of duels and was authority on the code duello; if not
able to participate as a principal, he would at least make an effort in any
affair of honor to act as a second (p. 14)."
Despite his
eccentricity, Hawkes managed to get himself elected to the Louisiana
Legislature. He served from 1888 to 1892, and firmly opposed the state lottery,
which was said to be "using money lavishly to control legislation in its
behalf". Hawkes may have been poor, but he could not be corrupted. A wagon
ran over and killed him in New Orleans shortly after the turn of the century.
A whole new
generation of Madisonians arose from the ashes of the Civil War, but in the
hearts and minds of parish residents they could not replace the lost loved
ones. One man who did not return from the war may serve as an example of the
deep sense of injustice which dominated the attitudes of Madison citizens for
many years after the war.
Friends of Henry
Wirz, a native of Switzerland, who lived at Milliken's Bend, remembered him as
a good doctor and a mild-mannered neighbor. Like so many other foreigners who
lived in the South, Dr. Wirz was a patriotic supporter of the southern cause
and joined the Confederate Army. Another Madisonian, Maj. George Waddill,
appointed the then Capt. Wirz to the command of the Confederate prison at
Andersonville, Ga.
Without the
supplies to support even its own men, the Confederacy could not adequately take
care of its Union prisoners, especially the ones at Andersonville. One fourth
of the Andersonville prisoners, almost 13,000 men, died in the Confederate
prison under Cap. Henry Wirz.
The horrible
story of Andersonville was publicized throughout the North, and the Union
demanded retribution against Capt. Wirz. He was tried, during peace time, by a
military court. None of Wirz's alleged "co-conspirators" were ever
put on trial, and all except one of the Captain's lawyers quit the case,
stating publicly that the Court had predetermined the outcome.
On evidence
based on mistake and perjury, the Court convicted Wirz of "maliciously
causing the death of a large number of prisoners in violation for the rules of
war." He was hanged at Old Capitol Prison in Washington, D.C. in November
1865 - the only Confederate executed after the war. Wirz had been offered his
freedom by the North if he would only accuse Jefferson Davis of ordering
certain crimes, but the Swiss immigrant refused.
The story of
Andersonville has been told in books, novels and plays, but few have heard of
the horrors at Union prisons during the war. At Elmira Prison in New York where
Confederates were confined, 14 per cent of the prisoners died; at Point Look
and Rock Island, 28 percent died; while less than 25 percent of the Union
prisoners at Andersonville died.
These figures of
course were not publicized In the North, but southerners knew them. In the
center of the town of Andersonville, Ga. they erected a tall obelisk dedicated
to Henry Wirz, the man from Milliken's Bend.
© 1999 Richard P.
Sevier (dicksevier@comcast.net)