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By Gordon
Hutchinson
Too old and fat to ride a horse and thus become engaged in the field campaigns, General Winfield Scott, 75, was nevertheless chosen as the commander of the entire Union Army in the early days of the War of the Northern Aggression, as it is still known south of the northern border of Virginia.
Virginia, you will remember, is the utmost northern reach of the united Confederacy that had its founding with the first shots fired at Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina, on April 12, 1861.
General Scott got his "ticket punched"--combat experience, so-called because advancement in the military is far more rapid for those who have experienced its rigors--in the War of 1812 and the Mexican war in the 1840s, where he capably led the United States forces in campaigns against the Mexican military and established most of the present-day border of those two countries. That war also served to season Robert E. Lee and a host of other West Pointers, most of who ended up fighting on the side of the South.
Scott formulated his "Anaconda Plan," which he believed to be the most frugal use of men and resources, and also the most forgiving in the waste of men. Named for its snake-like twisting along the broken lines of the Confederacy, Scott's plan ringed the secessionist states' northern boundaries with armies and outposts, its eastern and southern boundaries with naval ships and blockades, and its middle-western portion with a decisive thrust down the Mississippi River.
If the Union could control the Mississippi it could break the South in two by stopping the flow of supplies from Texas and the West. This occurred mainly down the Red River and into the Mississippi River valley for distribution into the very heartland of the South. With Northern troops pressing downward from points all along the borders of the upper Confederacy, pushing the rebel forces against the blockades of the coasts and owning the entire Mississippi River, the South would be caught in a vise and hammered into submission in short time, with a concomitant lesser loss of materials and men.
Unfortunately, like all plans, it looked better on paper.
It has been said that if you want to study Civil War history and tour battlefields, and you are from the very deep South, you must make a pilgrimage: you have to go north, starting with Vicksburg, and on into northern Mississippi, then into Tennessee, over into Georgia, and northward into the Carolinas, and finally, the hallowed ground of Lee--glorious Virginia. For it was in these states the greatest battles were fought. Naturally, in the War of Secession, good Southern boys met the Yankee invaders as they marched down from the Godless Union states, and held them back from stealing the fruits of the beautiful Southern homelands...and for a while, it really looked like they really might do it.
It has also been noted in many Civil War histories that if training, tactics, and pure belief in a cause could win a war, there would have been a definite sea change in the history books because all the good generals went to the South. Naturally so, as the tradition of military service has always been strongest by far in the Southern states--where more emphasis was always placed on honor, integrity, and serving your family's good name by a career in the military. A lot of good southern boys went to West Point, fought in the Mexican wars and went home when their states seceded.
Consequently, early in the war, the South won a lot of battles. The war machine was fresh, materials were in relatively good supply, the boys were fighting for their own states and the generals were combat-trained tacticians, generally facing-off against political appointees with little or no idea of how to move men and armies against a determined foe. The early years of the war were truly glory days for the South.
But parts of Scott's plan worked. New Orleans, the largest city in the Confederacy, fell to the Federals in April of 1862. The South just did not have the manpower to fight major wars on several fronts at once, and shortly afterwards, Baton Rouge--like New Orleans--fell to the Union machine in the form of a Navy armada.
In an attempt to regain these important trade positions on the all-important Mississippi, the Confederate Army attacked Baton Rouge in August of 1862. An interesting side note here is that then-President Lincoln's brother-in-law (Mary Todd Lincoln's younger brother) was a lieutenant in the rebel army and died in the battle against the Union troops near the site of a present-day Federal cemetery in the center of that city. The attack failed, and the Confederates retreated northward, up the river, to the small, thriving community of Port Hudson, Louisiana.
The Red River flows into the Mississippi River near the instep of the "boot" that is the shape of Louisiana. Above that junction stood the fortification at Vicksburg, Mississippi. Like Port Hudson, Vicksburg was located in a huge bend of the river, and at its junction with another major river. If the Confederates could maintain control of the river below the Red River, that important trade waterway could be preserved and at least a portion of the South could hold on indefinitely.
Port Hudson is one of those little known, infrequently considered smaller engagements of the Civil War because it did not occur in the great battle zone of Northern Mississippi, Tennessee, North Georgia, et al.
Yet this Confederate stronghold, some twenty miles up the river from present-day Baton Rouge and only ten minutes south of the historic town of St. Francisville, sitting astride two parish lines, has much to offer in the military history of the US. The 48-day siege of a 4.5-mile set of breastworks protecting approaches to the Mississippi River remains the longest true siege in the United States annals of war.
Further, the battle for Port Hudson is the first recorded instance of African-American troops being used in battle. And it is a prime example of the heroic excesses (and tragic wastes) that were so common in that tragic war.
When the Confederates chose Port Hudson as their first great stand protecting the lower Mississippi River, they could hardly have designed a better defensive position. Located at the apex of a U-shaped bend in the Mississippi River, Port Hudson was situated on the first high bluffs above Baton Rouge. Any ship negotiating that bend, and the powerful, swift currents of the river, would fall within easy range of the artillery placed on the bluffs. When the Rebels fortified the land approaches, they set the stage for some of the bloodiest and most severe fighting of the Civil War.
Realizing that owning Port Hudson would give the Federals free reign on the river all the way up to Vicksburg, and thus closing off the supply line that was the Red River, the Union sent 30,000 troops under the command of Major General Nathaniel P. Banks to attack Port Hudson on May 23, 1863.
Major General Franklin Gardner, a West Pointer, Mexican War veteran, New Yorker that had married a Southern girl--and epitome of the southern term "Galvanized" Yankee, meaning one who had found his true light in the Southern cause--was the commander of some 6, 800 troops dug in at Port Hudson. When under a flag of truce he was ordered to surrender, but informed General Banks in the proper, stilted prose of the times that his duty would not allow him to do so, and he would have to defend their position.
In the meantime, Admiral David Farragut of the US Navy had moved ships up the river from New Orleans and decided to test the defenses on the high bluffs by running the severe bend at night. But Confederate lookouts on the opposite side of the river set off huge, pre-constructed bonfires which illuminated the ships with blazing backlights as they attempted to negotiate the turn, offering easily-seen targets directly under and well within range of the rebel cannon located on the bluffs.
The ensuing bombardment severely damaged several ships, forcing them back downriver; one, the USS Mississippi, ran aground and was subsequently destroyed by cannon fire and torching by its own crew. When her magazine exploded, the blast was heard fifty miles away.
Farragut, who was later to gain immortality with his statement, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead" while running the mines of Mobile Bay, then elected to stand off and bombard the stronghold with cannon fire from his ships while Banks attacked the barricaded approachments to the river positions.
In a classic example of the lack of honor and integrity and a failing of the code of the professional soldier (a common flaw of Union generals throughout the war,) Banks, a political appointee and politician, would, with his generals, waste men and munitions in futile, costly frontal assaults on a well-barricaded, dug-in and stout-hearted enemy.
"Now, as soon as the order to fire was given, the captain, who, I remember, was smoking a squatty little pipe, and wearing a badly crushed cap, turned to his men. 'Now boys,' he said, 'I want you to stick to the pieces and give the Yankees hell.' The order was literally obeyed." Thus later reported Lieutenant John Irwin Kendall of the Fourth Louisiana Infantry Regiment.
Like in all battlefields, soldiers named areas of severe conflict; Port Hudson was no different: Fort Desperate. The Citadel...Artillery Ridge...The Priest Cap. These and others marked areas where thousands of Union soldiers became casualties. At Fort Desperate, Arkansas sharpshooters from elevated towers literally mowed attacking Union troops down. In the June 14 attack, which commenced at 4:00
a.m., over 1000 soldiers lay wounded or dying in the scorching Louisiana sun by 11:00
a.m. when the fighting ceased with a Union pullback.
By June 17, the stench of the bodies was so great that under a flag of truce General Gardner sent a message to General Banks to bury his dead. Banks' reply was that he had no dead. Such was a planned effort by the Union leaders to gas the Confederate defenders from the breastworks, where frontal assaults had failed. In fact, one Yankee General stated that he would use the bodies of the "damned volunteers" to "stink" the rebels out.
At night, the cries of the dying wounded were so intense, the Confederate soldiers would creep down from the breastworks and bring canteens of water to their suffering enemies. And this while the Union officer corps refused to honor a flag of truce to allow them to clear their wounded from the battlefield. This later was allowed, but not before hundreds died in the scorching heat that might have been saved.
Many of the Union soldiers were nine-month volunteers, and their griping (and in some cases outright mutiny) set their leaders' teeth on edge, thus leading to the references to "damned volunteers," but an anonymous Yankee perhaps said it best: "We are poorly led, and uselessly slaughtered, and the brains are all within and not before Port Hudson."
At one point, the killing became such obviously suicidal lunacy that a Yankee colonel refused to again order his troops to attack the breastworks, saying that if the general wanted to take the position, then let the general
could come down personally and lead the attack. He later stated that his immediate superior, another colonel, lay drunk behind a log the entire day, and issued stupid orders endangering the lives of his men. He was later dishonorably discharged without benefit of a hearing because of his disobedience.
But all was not roses in the rebel compound. Early on, General Gardner sent word to General Joseph E. Johnston, his superior in the Mississippi campaign, that food, munitions and supplies were starting to run low. Johnston replied that he had no help to send, and Gardner should hold the position as long as was possible.
Conditions deteriorated rapidly in the Confederate stronghold. Horses and mules were slaughtered and eaten, and soon were gone. One locomotive from the Port Hudson/Clinton railway was retained in the compound, and used as power to grind corn and grain, which was rapidly depleted by the nearly 7,000 troops within.
Lieutenant Howard Wright, a Confederate officer, offered pungent review in his journals of how untenable conditions became "...Rats...were also caught by many officers and men, and were found to be quite a luxury...."
An observation by Sergeant Albert Plummer of the 48th Massachusetts Infantry also showed how tight things had gotten in the rebel camp: "The enemy were short of ammunition and they used broken iron. An old piece of a French bayonet three inches long struck Captain J. Scott Todd in the mouth, knocking out his upper and under front teeth, cutting his tongue in two, its full length and finally embedded itself in the roof of his mouth."
One of the more colorful accounts from the battlefield showed the danger of working the primitive cannon of the time, which sometimes they went off before they were supposed to. "The rebel battery fired a sponge staff (used to swab the bore of an artillery piece, but in this case, a premature discharge fired the long wooden implement downrange.) I could see the sponge staff coming through the air and just before it reached our battery, it stuck the side of a tree in front of the battery setting the sponge staff to whirling and it killed five or six of our men." Sergeant Elon P. Spinks of the 160th New York Infantry had a storyteller's knack for chilling descriptions.
But word arrived that Vicksburg had surrendered. At first, the rebel troops refused to believe, thinking it but another Yankee trick. But once Gardner had determined that in fact Vicksburg had fallen, after another bloody siege it was apparent holding on to Port Hudson would be a futile effort. He negotiated surrender terms, and July 9, 1863, after 48 days and thousands of Union casualties, the Army of the United States entered Port Hudson, thus capturing the last Confederate stronghold on the Mississippi River, and ending the longest siege in US military history.
The Port Hudson National Battlefield monument is located on US Highway 61 approximately 20 miles north of Baton Rouge, the state capital. Before reaching the entrance to the battlefield, tourists can be misled by signs that lead one to the US Federal Cemetery several miles south of the battlefield where many of the casualties of the battle (and later wars) are buried. While a most interesting visit--the manicured grounds and acres of white headstones are truly awe-inspiring--this is not the battlefield.
Remember that the battlefield entrance is located directly on US 61, and is a recreation of a breastworks. Simply watch for the huge log ramparts, the American flag and the guard shack, and drive in.
Once on the grounds, drive around to the museum and interpretative center where films and panoramas will explain the entire battlefield and the history of the siege. One interesting feature in the center is a computer that allows you to type in your name; within seconds, it prints out a certificate for you as a visitor to the battlefield and lists every individual on both sides with your last name that fought in the battle, including their unit and their fate after the end of the siege.
Since I descend from Confederate soldiers on both sides, my mother's great-grandfather was a surgeon in the Army of the South and her family had settled in the Port Hudson area, I was particularly pleased to see this innovative feature.
Port Hudson boasts some of the best-kept examples of Civil War breastworks and fighting positions still in existence. There are several miles of well-marked trails around the now heavily wooded ravines that follow the Confederate defenses. Bring comfortable shoes for this hike.
The Louisiana Office of State Parks, (888) 677-1400, hosts a number of events year-round commemorating the battle. March 25 to 26, 2000, will see the annual reenactment of the battle, with reenactors coming from all over the US to live in period tents, wear period clothes and uniforms and stage battle scenes for the tourists. It is possible to walk into the camps and converse with the reenactors as they live and eat like soldiers of 140 years ago.
On April 2 and May 7, 2000, there will be firepower and weapons demonstrations of munitions from the Civil War era.
For other events and further information on the Port Hudson Battlefield, call (888) 677-3400. Or log on to their web site at
http://www.crt.state.la.us.
All photos by Gordon Hutchinson
Copyright © 2000
by Gordon Hutchinson. All rights reserved.
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