In the annals of infamy there is little doubt that few tales can match that of the fall of Vicksburg. It is a curious tale and I say this with all the implications that the word curious implies. It was an American story, but the reader would do well to consider and remember that it was not the American story for there are many and there are many yet to be.
Vicksburg was the most beautiful city on the continent. It was the Paris of America, a place where the latest European books and fashions could be had. It was a place where a semi-literate man would have a run at the gambling dens of Natchez , buy five hundred slaves the nest day and a plantation and a week later be believed to be one of the grand old names of the southland.
For in those early days the profession of gambler, both on the river boat and in the bar rooms and casinos, was understood to be what it is, a test of one man’s mental abilities against anothers.
Throughout the long summers the balls and cotillions would go on. Plantations with a quarter mile of green cut lawns reaching clear to the river would shine a brilliant white though out the evenings while music, often performed by the darkies themselves, played on until the dawn.
Be it truth then or not that the seeds of crime bear bitter fruit the long years before the war rolled on each adding it’s spice to the subtle flavors and shades of elegance. When the war finally began, as is the custom, for the first few months there was hesitancy on both sides to begin the process of feeding bodies into the gawp of the war machine.
The balls continued with renewed fervor. Ladies prepared bandages and blankets. The occasional duel continued to be fought but a hunger was growing for those ribbons and medas most assured to win the hearts of confederate belles. Soon that hunger would end for the Yankees had barricaded New Orleans . Then they had control of the river north of Vicksburg . The process continued inexorable.
Someone consulted with the Indians. They asked if the people of New Orleans ,had or had not angered the spirit. The reply was inconclusive.
By the time both sides of the river north of the town, and the railroad line were in Federal hand it was conclusive that Vicksburg was under siege. Hunger started up.Here’s where it gets interesting. The history of sieges is not new. First the large animals go, then the smaller ones until people are eating rats and sparrows, then cannibalism and urine.
But there was ope of a sort. Up in Jackson General Johnston was allegedly preparing a relief column. Special secret messages were intercepted sayin "get ready here we come. But it was to no avail. Johnston h0ad no intention on sinking his forces into a death pit. He was just sendIng the messeges in order to clear his name in case of a court marshall.
The plantation owners were angry because they wanted to put their cotton en market. Townspeople and rebel soldiers were angry because they felt that the plantation owners were holding out and hiding food from them - which in fact they were.
Then the people of the town got even more incensed it seems that they got up in their heads the notion that the storekeepers were hording food in order to take advantage of starvation to charge the highest rates possible. The locals heard about it and burned down the block where the storekeepers kept the hidden food. This was the single greatest loss of the campaign for the rebels and it was brought about by their own side.
In fact from what we can tell a good deal of blame goes to the Confederate General who was willing to let the people of Vicksburg starve to death because he took the word of merchants and plantation owners.
When the yankee soldiers marched into town they had hundreds of thousands of dollars of worthless confederate money which they tossed into the streets like confetti.
I wouldn’t mention this except I got the feelin there’s people been hording cash money and I feel it’s my patriotic an civil duty to do so.
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