The Real Horse Soldiers

by Timothy B Smith

  Avoiding and outwitting the enemy was a tall order, not because of the excellent capabilities of Grierson’s pursuers, but because of the large number of small commands closing in on the Union raiders. Once the Federals appeared west of the Pearl River, especially along the railroad, they were easily pinpointed and reported. This intelligence was precisely what Pemberton needed, and he ordered every man who could be spared in the bastion area of Jackson-Vicksburg and Franklin Gardner’s Port Hudson to move and trap the raiders. Most of these troops were cavalry, but only in small numbers organized as companies or battalions. Larger infantry columns were moved to the major bridges on the Amite River, including Williams’s bridge near Grangeville and another several miles north, in an effort to block access to the Union territory around Baton Rouge. Grierson’s corridor of operations was narrowing by the hour, as were his choices.5

  Grierson’s situation was dangerous but perhaps not quite as desperate as some may have imagined. Ironically, Grant’s large-scale thrust into Mississippi and its threat to Vicksburg provided a diversion of sorts in Grierson’s favor, soaking up enemy troops that would have otherwise moved to trap the raiders. Pemberton had almost ignored Grierson until the Federals hit Newton Station on April 24, after which he concentrated his efforts between April 24 and April 29 on catching him. Grant’s attack at Grand Gulf and crossing of the Mississippi shook Pemberton back to reality. The substance of his barrage of messages changed from a focus on catching Grierson to how best to deal with Grant.6

  Still, many Confederate units had set out after Grierson. Wirt Adams’s regiment had already tangled with the Federals at Union Church before extricating itself by riding west. He had spent the previous night near Fayette while Grierson moved east. Once the reinforced Mississippian (whose remaining five companies had arrived) realized he had been tricked, Adams moved southeast toward Liberty to hem in the elusive Grierson.7

  Similarly, Colonel Richardson’s command of three mounted Mississippi infantry companies rode roughly parallel to Adams’s advance toward Louisiana, mainly along the railroad itself. Richardson’s numbers substantially increased when he met the squadron under Capt. Hiram Love, the same officer Union scout Nelson had misdirected several days before. Thinking he had finally caught up with Grierson, Richardson made elaborate plans for a night attack near Summit, but the Federals had departed nine hours earlier. “I could find no one in Summit who could tell me anything more than that the enemy had left the previous evening,” Richardson complained. Once again the colonel assumed the enemy would follow the railroad and thus he moved south toward Magnolia and Osyka, where valuable Confederate supplies were stored. Richardson believed the rich storehouses would be more than Grierson could ignore, “which pointed to the conclusion that he was then on his way to that place.”8

  Franklin Gardner. As Confederate commander at Port Hudson in Louisiana, Major General Franklin Gardner sent forces out to hem in Grierson, but failed to trap the elusive cavalryman. Library of Congress

  Franklin Gardner at Port Hudson also issued orders “to send out all the available spare cavalry.” Lieutenant Colonel George Gantt of the 9th Tennessee Cavalry Battalion sent companies toward Tangipahoa and Clinton, Louisiana, and Woodville, Mississippi. Gantt moved northeast with the balance of the command toward Woodville and stopped there, ready to move in any direction “as circumstances might require.” When he received word Grierson had gone to Brookhaven, Gantt moved to Liberty, but word soon arrived the previous news was wrong and the Federals had actually moved toward Natchez. Gantt admitted he was unable “to determine from the contradictory statements what was the enemy’s direction.” Scouts finally determined the enemy had indeed ridden to Brookhaven. Gantt moved his command east toward the railroad and Osyka.9

  A parallel column under Col. W. R. Miles of the Louisiana Legion also moved east in direct response to Gardner’s call for men. Miles moved from Clinton to Osyka, crossing the flooded Amite River on a newly constructed bridge that cost the legion five hours to erect. Thereafter they came upon Grierson’s trail, but the Federals were rapidly pushing on. Eventually, Miles met up with Adams’s and Gantt’s pursuing commands.10

  Yet another Southern column moved north from the Camp Moore area near Tangiapahoa, Louisiana. Col. C. C. Wilbourn’s battalion had ridden east to Tangiapahoa in response to the earliest call for cavalry and then up to Osyka when everyone assumed Grierson was moving on that place. When he did not find the Federals there, Wilbourn rode west to Woodville, never realizing he was moving behind Grierson, where conflicting reports kept him moving in circles. Wilbourn admitted he and his men did “much traveling for nothing” and that Grierson’s efforts kept him “so perplexed as [they] greatly retarded his movements.” Confederate infantry, meanwhile, followed at a much slower pace. Fresh from the prison camps they had endured as a result of the surrender at Fort Donelson in February 1862, Col. John Simonton’s 1st Mississippi Infantry tramped their way north along the railroad to Osyka, intent on defending supplies Grierson had no intention of capturing or destroying.11

  Despite all this activity, the Confederates were grasping at the wind. None of these commands caught up with Grierson’s raiders, who continued moving steadily south.

  ***

  With the Confederates concentrating against them, the Illinoisans awoke early on May 1, ready to move south to Baton Rouge. Grierson, who knew his best bet was to move quickly and quietly, continued to employ well-proven feints and stealth. He first moved east toward the New Orleans, Jackson, and Great Northern Railroad once more, hoping the Confederates would think he was intent on spending another day wrecking tracks. He had made a run for that railroad after leaving Newton Station and had hit it again two more times, the last strike producing significant damage as the column moved along the road itself. Grierson’s move east toward Magnolia and Osyka, just above the Mississippi-Louisiana state line, convinced the Confederates to focus their attention on those two points just as Grierson intended.12

  After feinting toward Magnolia, however, Grierson left the main road leading to the railroad and took a southerly route along what Grierson described as “woods, lanes, and by-roads.” “It was a poor, pine country,” recalled one of his Illinois troopers. “About every five miles there was a farm house.” Colonel Prince, riding in the lead with his 7th Illinois Cavalry, described the route as “through the woods without roads.” Grierson’s aim was to connect with the main road from Osyka that ran southwest to Clinton, nearly 10 miles inside Louisiana. The Federal leader hoped the column could move rapidly in the opposite direction than most of the Confederates thought he was headed. There was a good chance the enemy might not even know he was in the area. If unchallenged, he could move east and cross the southerly flowing Tickfaw River at Wall’s bridge and continue on to Greensburg, recrossing the river to the west side at Edward’s bridge. The zigzag course would serve to further confuse the Confederates and put Grierson farther south, carefully bypassing the Port Hudson bastion, which Union Gen. Nathaniel Banks had not yet enveloped.13

  Grierson moved through a heavily timbered region peppered with a maze of fallen trees atop the ridge between the Tickfaw River and the East Fork of the Amite River. Horses could easily navigate such terrain, but it was hard on the artillery, which had two horses tethered together. According to Adjutant Woodward, “It was necessary to lift, by hand, the little artillery over them.” Worse, all four guns had already broken down before they reached this leg of the raid. The original wheels had not made it very far before they needed to be replaced. Their primary defect, observed Woodward, was “a peculiarly short hub.” The artillerists could only replace the wheels with what they found on the march, so they concocted all sorts of wagon and carriage wheels, sawing off the hubs so they would fit onto the smaller carriages. Unfortunately, Woodward continued, “There were scarcely any two wheels of the same size, so that the guns had an odd, wobbly motion, giving one the idea of a huge bug ambling along.” On occasion, the men hauled the guns b
y placing them in wagons captured for that purpose. As Woodward put it, “Such was the affection of the command for this battery that the idea of abandoning any part of it because it was disabled could not be thought of.”14

  Moving south cross-country, wobbly guns and all, the head of the column came upon what Grierson described as “an old but well-defined ridge road.” No one was in sight, and the path led south with few apparent obstacles. The column soon came upon an old Mississippian who, like so many others, took Grierson’s force to be Confederates. The man told them they were on the “old Kentucky trail,” a route Kentuckians used before the age of steamboats to get back home after making a trip downriver. The road was so little used that the man admitted “he thought nobody knew [of it] but himself” and boasted he knew “every inch within ten miles.” The Federals needed a guide like that, but the old man was reluctant to go with them, claiming “he’d enough of that work; that the fellows had taken him before and never given him a cent for his trouble.” He had enough to do, he added, “without fooling his time away with us,” explained Grierson. Oblivious as to the real identity of the riders, the old man inquired, “Why we didn’t go to fight the Yankees instead of riding around the country in that way.” Their uniforms impressed the rural civilian, who asked where the soldiers got their first-rate clothing, adding, “They were better than any clothes he had seen us fellows wear before.” The quick-thinking Grierson responded, “We got our clothes from the Yankees at Holly Springs,” an excuse his soldiers had been using for much of the trip and one that “always excited great laughter among the secessionists.” Sorely in need of a guide, Grierson upped the ante and offered the man a horse for his use, which he could keep when his work was finished, together with a substantial sum of Confederate money. The Mississippian, wrote an amused Grierson, “concluded that he would go along with us for a while.” True to his word, he led the column south to the Osyka road Grierson wanted so badly to reach.15

  When the Union riders hit the main road, however, Surby, riding well in advance of the column, discovered the tracks of what appeared to be a mounted unit. The hoof marks were fresh, and the riders were heading east directly toward Wall’s bridge, a span named after the Wall family who lived at a nearby plantation named Oak Grove. Surby knew a potential crisis when he saw one and sent word back to Grierson, who spurred his mount ahead to look over the situation in person. “Scarcely had we touched this road,” Grierson reported, “when we came upon the Ninth Tennessee Cavalry [battalion], posted in a strong defile, guarding the bridges over Tickfaw River.” The grim proposition loomed that Grierson and his men would have to fight their way across the bridge.16

  Unbeknownst to Grierson, the Confederates were a motley band of hurriedly organized troopers led by James De Baun, a six-foot 40-something Creole major from New Orleans, of the 9th Louisiana Partisan Rangers. When it appeared Grierson was heading for Osyka, De Baun received orders to move there with two companies to protect it. At Woodville, he picked up George Gantt’s under-strength 9th Tennessee Cavalry Battalion. The three companies, scarcely 115 men, rode east. “At 11:30 a.m., the men and horses being fatigued, I stopped to rest at Wall’s Bridge,” De Baun later reported. Grierson’s column popped out on the same road just minutes later.17

  With his route blocked, Grierson ordered Surby to move ahead and, “if I saw any object that I could not satisfy myself about, to report at once to him, and not get more than half a mile from the advance.” Although he was heading south, he could not leave an enemy of undetermined size so close and make a run for it, especially with the vast bottomlands of the wide Amite River looming just ahead. In order to reach Greensburg, he would have to cross the Tickfaw River at Wall’s bridge, a “narrow plank bridge some fifty feet in length” and the river’s only viable crossing point. The Tickfaw, recalled Woodward, was “a deep, abrupt, rapid stream, not fordable, and completely hidden by a dense growth of vines and bushes.” Grierson decided his best course of action was to outfox the enemy while they were still concentrating.18

  The Federal brigade commander stopped the head of his column around the bend of the road out of sight of the nearest Confederate pickets around the bridge and sent scouts ahead to feel out the enemy. “Hello, boys, on picket?” Surby called out. “Yes,” responded one of the soldiers. “Been on about an hour and feel devlish tired. Been traveling night and day after the damned Yanks, and I’ll bet my horse that they’ll get away yet.” One of Surby’s scouts empathized by responding, “That is just our case.”19

  Before Grierson could decide on a specific plan, the actions of others decided his course for him. A few of the soldiers in the rear of the column under Lt. James M. Gaston of Company G, 7th Illinois Cavalry, came upon several Confederates at a nearby farmhouse. The surprised opponents stared at each other a few moments before the shooting began, the shots reverberating loudly up and down the river valley. The Illinois troopers captured two Confederates and four horses, but the damage was done. The gunfire had alerted the enemy pickets near the bridge that something was amiss. Surby’s scouts quickly apprehended the closest picket, but others approached, including Capt. E. A. Scott and his orderly. “What in hell does all that firing mean?” demanded the captain. The quick-thinking Surby replied that the pickets had accidentally fired on approaching reinforcements. A relieved Scott laughed and replied, “Is that all?” before riding west and right into the hands of Surby’s scouts. Surby told a comrade to let the officer ride between them and “I would manage him.” Back at the bridge, meanwhile, the more alert Major De Baun “ordered the bridge to be dismantled . . . posting men at the bridge to destroy it as soon as the rear guard would have reported.” By that time, the rear guard was mostly in Union custody.20

  The exchange of fire also set some of the Union men on edge, including young Lieutenant Colonel Blackburn, who was at the front of the column with the 7th Illinois Cavalry. Colonel Prince described the officer as having “too much daring.” Grierson knew Blackburn to be a bold and brave officer, but he worried about the young man’s rashness, especially when near the enemy. He had already warned Blackburn to “make a cautious approach.” Blackburn’s blood was up, however, and he intended to finish the business quickly and decisively.21

  Determined to take the bridge before the Confederates realized what was transpiring, Blackburn galloped past Surby and called out, “Sergeant, bring along your scouts and follow me, and I’ll see where those rebels are!” The stunned scout recalled, “This was a rash movement on the part of Colonel Blackburn, but he had ordered me to follow him, and it was my duty to obey.” The small squad took fire while still west of the bridge, but it “did not check our speed, but rather increased it.” When the troopers clattered across the wooden structure, however, the now fully alert Confederates on the far side delivered a withering fire. “It seemed as though a flame of fire burst forth from every tree,” confirmed the scout. Unfortunately for the Federals, many of the rounds struck home.22

  Three balls struck Blackburn. The most serious injury was in his thigh. The other two rounds grazed his head and struck his hip. The wounds were serious and perhaps mortal. One of his troopers observed that “his horse [was also] filled full of bullet holes.” Another round struck Sergeant Surby, Grierson’s gallant scout who had provided outstanding leadership and judgment throughout the raid. The bullet, he later wrote, “struck me on my right thigh, passing through it into my saddle, just grazing my horse’s back. I often think that it was a miracle that any of us escaped the first volley,” Surby added, “but the ways of Divine Providence are very mysterious, and I have every reason to be thankful that my fate was no worse.”23

  Grierson, who had neither ordered nor expected the mounted charge, was less than pleased by Blackburn’s brash action: “The little squad that made the gallant dash with Colonel Blackburn were, of course, quickly repulsed and compelled to retreat and wait for reinforcements to dislodge the enemy from his strong position.” If Blackburn had “been as discreet and wary
as he was brave,” Grierson added, “it is very probable that not a man would have been wounded, and very likely most of the rebels would have been captured, as our approach was not expected from that direction.”24

  Wall’s Bridge. Grierson fought his heaviest action at Wall’s Bridge. This photo shows the Tickfaw River at the bridge site. Author

  Knowing he had no time to lose, Grierson ordered up more troopers and another attack. A squadron under Lt. William Styles charged with reckless abandon across the span, but a heavy fire drove the cavalrymen back with multiple casualties. Private George Rheinholdt of Styles’s Company G was killed instantly and Sgt. S. Record and Pvts. W. Roy and Ruse M. Hughes were wounded. After suffering a pair of repulses, Grierson sent in heavier numbers to complete the job. When the first two companies of the 7th Illinois reached the front, Grierson sent them forward as dismounted skirmishers. The troopers reached the bank of the river and outflanked the bridge and its Confederate defenders. Smith’s guns, meanwhile, dropped trail and added some heavier firepower. The small tubes unlimbered and opened fire while the rest of the column launched a thunderous advance, overwhelming the Confederates and driving them eastward. As the Federal troopers rushed past, Blackburn, who was lying partially under his dead horse, yelled to Grierson, “Onward, Colonel. Onward, men. Whip the rebels. Onward and save your command. Don’t mind me.” The 6th Illinois Cavalry rode after the Louisiana and Tennessee defenders for some distance to make sure the enemy was actually withdrawing. “I skirmished the rebels out of the bushes,” was how Colonel Prince described his role in the action. According to Major De Baun of the 9th Louisiana Partisan Rangers, the stout defensive effort consisted of only some 90 men.25

  The old Mississippi guide accompanying Grierson’s column watched as the action unfolded. “It was all accomplished so quickly,” recalled Grierson, “that the old man citizen, who had not yet discovered his first mistake, was in high glee. [He] turned round to our men and exclaimed: ‘Why you can fight. I thought you were a lot of dandies in your fine clothes. But, Moses, didn’t you clean those Yanks out nicely.” Worried that the man might discover the truth, Grierson gave him the promised horse and Confederate money and sent him away “in blissful ignorance as to who we really were. . . . [I]n due time, it is safe to presume, he found that he had been for a time in the clutches of the dreadful Yankees.”26