British Westerners Association

Vicksburg Under Siege
Americans living in caves, explosions riddling their homes above - sounds like a late night science fiction movie, doesn't it? In 1863 it really happened in Vicksburg, Mississippi. During the hardship and uncertainty of a siege, Vicksburg civilians struggled to carry on with everyday life.

On May 19, Ulysses S. Grant marched his troops as close to the Vicksburg Confederate defenses as he dared, and the Shirley family found their home caught between two armies. For three days, Mrs. Shirley, her son, and two slaves sat near the sheltering brick chimney as bullets and shells crashed through their home and shattered their furniture. They escaped, but their home would never be the same again.

Neither would the houses of many of their neighbors. After two fruitless attacks, Grant decided to starve the Confederates out, ordering his army to surround Vicksburg. Keeping food and supplies from the defending army, the Northern lines wrapped so tightly around the town that one soldier bragged, "Not even a cat could get out." For forty-seven days, Union shot and shell rained down on the Confederate fortifications and the town. Many citizens fled to large caves dug into the soft ground by enterprising slaves who were often paid $30 or more, depending on the cave's size. Rugs covered dirt floors. Candles cast flickering glows on mirrors and pictures, beds and rocking chairs, anything to make it seem more like home.

As Union siege lines tightened around the Confederate troops and town, supplies dwindled. With scarce goods priced beyond their reach, people improvised. One woman proudly wrote that she had resoled her shoes, a skill she never dreamed she had. The local newspaper continued to be published regularly, printed on wallpaper when newsprint ran out.

The town's food supply grew dangerously low as the siege wore on. Cooks served mule meat at the dinner table. An anonymous citizen, refusing to surrender a sense of humor, wrote a fictitious menu advertising such local delicacies as "Mule Head Stuffed a La Mode" and "Mule Tongue Cold a La Bray." Others found little to laugh about. One slave, unable to find food, soaked sweaty horse blankets in mudholes, wrung them out, and drank the filthy water, which "was strength'nin', like weak soup."

It was getting harder to carry on. As July began, Confederate General John C. Pemberton polled his officers about the status of the army. One message rang clear: their spirits were unbroken, but their bodies couldn't carry on like this much longer. On July 4, 1863, the citizens of Vicksburg emerged from their caves to see the Union army marching into the city, having received the surrender of the Confederate troops. The long siege was over. During the next years of Union occupation, these citizens would remember how they had persevered during the siege and know that somehow they would survive the vastly changing world around them.

 A Letter From The Civil War

July the 14th, 1861

Washington DC

My very dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure - and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows - when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children - is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan