Plant the Colors

'Plant the colors!'

Reminiscences of a Forlorn Hope at Vicksburg
May 19, 1863

Union Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's first attempt to breach Confederate fortifications by infantry assault at Vicksburg, Mississippi, was launched the afternoon of May 19, 1863. North of the city the task was allotted to Gen. William T. Sherman's 15th Corps, spearheaded by the 2nd Division. The ground to be traversed, according to Sherman, was "impracticable, cut up in deep chasms, filled with standing and fallen timber" - promising disorder and heavy casualties. Soldiers dubbed such efforts a "forlorn hope."
Among the attacking troops were Hoosiers of the 83rd Indiana, a regiment raised principally from four southeastern counties in the state just west of Cincinnati, Ohio. Before nightfall, 10 of them were dead and 46 wounded. One of the latter, John M. Roberts from Osgood in Ripley County, was a Company F corporal detailed to the 83rd's color guard. Roberts' account graphically describes his regiment's failed assault on May 19 and its personal consequences.

May 19, early in the morning, our artillery began to arrive and unlimber, and we could see a great battle pending. I thought this would be a good time to inspect some of the artillery and Uncle Sam's big guns, which were being placed on Walnut Hills, so I took a short walk, as the assault would not be made before noon. I was attracted by a battery being placed behind some grapevines. When all was ready the [battery] Captain said there were some grapevines which obstructed his sight and asked who would volunteer to cut them off. I announced my willingness to do so, never thinking of the danger. But I was not discovered by the enemy. He thanked me, and I returned to the regiment at 1 o'clock. Colonel Spooner [Benjamin J. Spooner of Lawrenceburg, Ind., who later lost his left arm at Kennesaw Mountain] called us into line and made us a speech in which he said, "This is the day of all days you are expected to show your valor and to show Jeff Davis that Indiana soldiers are not cowards." Col. Spooner also informed us that orders from headquarters were if anyone should fall in battle or get wounded we were not even to turn him over or give him a drink of water until the battle was over.
   The drum beat the long roll and the Colonel gave the order: "Boys, remember your state, Forward!" The ground was irregular, resembling a wash board more than anything else, but we went under a deadly fire from the enemy, and passed the Thirteenth Regulars in good shape. The next regiment we passed was the Sixth Missouri, one of the best regiments in Sherman's [corps].
   Here our regiment got somewhat demoralized, the color guards being nearly all shot down. The two Color Sergeants became separated, both obeying orders forward and onward. Most of the regiment followed the State Colors but I was detailed to follow "Old Glory," which I did. That noble Color Sergeant, John Cassens [of Company G, from Sunman, Ind.], never stopped to look back until he ran against the Rebel works. We had passed every ravine and was on the last ridge, not sixty yards from the trench where the boys of the storming party tried to scale and partly succeeded by getting into the trench and throwing bomb shells into the enemy's camp with their hands. Well, when we reached this point, Cassens was halted for once, but not until several bullets and a cannon ball had passed through the colors.
   We looked back but had no support, not a man had caught up with our national flag. So we dropped back to the first ravine, planted the flag on top of a big stump and held it there. It seemed to me to be an honor to hold it before the regiment overtook us. The first was Col. Spooner. There was not a man between us and the Rebel forts, about sixty yards distant. Some of the officers, with small squads of men, began to arrive. Col. Spooner said, "Plant your colors on the ridge, I want to form the regiment." We told him that the Rebel fort was only sixty yards away, and we did not believe he could form the regiment, but told him we would place the colors on the breastworks if he would like to have them there. Whether he heard us or not I don't know, but the order was "Plant the colors!" We advanced, Cassens with the flag and I the only color guard.
   Just as we reached the crest of the hill, and in plain view of the fort, we received another volley while Cassens was planting the flag. Seeing it was impossible to remain a second longer without being mowed down, he said, "Let us go." But it was all over with me. I felt something like a mule had kicked me in the breast. A ball had passed through my oil blanket, cartridge [box] belt, blouse, hit my breast bone and entered my body, carrying a part of my blouse with it. Another bullet or buck-shot had made its way as far as the breast bone. I don't know whether it entered my body or not, as it was so close to the bullet hole I could not tell. I saw the gun, which the bullets came out of, fired from a port hole in the log fort not over fifty or sixty yards distant. I think I was in the act of shooting [at] the port hole when I was hit, but [my] gun failed to save me, and I was past reloading so threw it away.
   Cassens had disappeared with the colors, but not to the rear; he had got into their trenches too close to be hit. I returned to the stump which we had left, found the colonel [and] told him I thought I had received my death wound. He said he hoped not and gave me my place at the stump again, the battle still raging, cannon balls passing over our heads from both ways. I freed myself from all accoutrements so I could lay down to rest, not knowing but that it would be my last resting place, as the blood was flowing freely from my wounds. About this time several of the officers and men had come up. Capt. [John H.] Roarty of Company F saw me and gave me a drink of water and some whiskey. He told me John Case [corporal of Company F, also from Osgood, Ind.] was killed, examined my wounds, found two bullet holes and thought I was only stunned. It gave me some encouragement and when he was gone I made an examination by running my finger into the bullet hole. I found it was inside somewhere, and my best blood was being shed and I was growing weaker.
   I had read in the Cincinnati Commercial that gunpowder would stop the flow of blood, so I tore open a cartridge and gave the wound an application by emptying it into the wound, using my fingers as a swab until I could see the flow becoming less.
   The battle was still raging, and the ravine where I lay was fast being filled up with the dead and wounded. They were all Eighty-third boys, as that regiment was in front, and most of them were officers, as they could be distinguished by the enemy's sharpshooters who were in trees and in the forts.
   My wound by this time had become very painful. I raised up to change my position and an officer said, "You had better keep down or you might be shot again." I said it would only help me out of my misery. I wasn't afraid to die, and I wanted to be comfortable while I did live. I think it was Capt. Scott [George H. Scott, Company H]. I moved my position to where Capt. Calvert lay dead, and I thought why shouldn't I die by his side. He had been my Captain in every

Capt. Mattellus Calvert

Capt. Mattellus Calvert
Company C
83rd Indiana Volunteer Infantry

Rising Sun, Indiana

Killed in action May 19, 1863
at Vicksburg

battle, as he had commanded the colors and I was one of the guards. It then seemed to me a happy thought to die by my captain and doing my duty.
   I was with the dead and wounded and night was coming on. I knew that darkness would be in our favor to make our escape. All that could do so, withdrew, leaving me all alone with the dead. I knew I could never find my regiment in my condition, so I thought it best to remain just where I was. The Colonel and Captain knew where I was and would inform my comrades of Company F when they went to look for the dead, which they did, each company sending out a detail to carry away the dead officers first. Capt. Calvert of Company C and [Capt. John M.] Cresswell of Co. K were carried away, and Capt. Chipman [Samuel P. Chipman, Company A], being wounded, was helped away also, and I was left alone. But I felt that God was watching over me, and being weak from loss of blood I lay down. I must have become unconscious, and seemed to be dreaming of my wife and children at home, and of my mother who had died long before. Just at this time I heard a voice say, "John." I hardly knew if I were in this world or the next. I thought if from earth I would be permitted to see my wife and children; if from heaven I would see my dear mother and those gone before. I cared little which way the hand turned. I answered and found it was Robert O'Neal and Miller Stevens [both of Company F] calling me. They had come back to carry me off the battlefield. They had no stretcher so they straightened me up, said for me to put my arms around their necks and they would carry me.
   I was a little taller than either, and I could bear a part of my weight on my feet. We started and it seemed that hell broke loose again, the woods being on fire, the Rebels having discovered our retreat. I asked them to leave me but they refused. The firing was almost as hot as when we made our charge in the afternoon, but none of us was shot. We reached the hospital about 11 o'clock at night. I was placed among the dead, wounded and dying near William Fox, who was shot through the body and was bleeding to death inwardly. The pain became so severe he could stand it no longer. He raised to his feet and he and the nurse had a scuffle, but he was compelled to lie down again, then all was quiet. I felt his pulse ten minutes after and found life extinct. He belonged to Company F.
   Several of my comrades visited me next day, among them Dr. [Samuel] Davis, who examined my wounds and reported me mortally wounded, and from that my name appeared on the list of the dead in the Ripley county papers. It was a mistake, however, but the report might have been true as far as medical attention was concerned. I was there three days without having my bloody clothes removed or my wound dressed. The Medical Board, composed of three doctors, passed through the tent. I noticed that those who were slightly wounded were sent to their regimental hospitals; those that were severely wounded, but had a prospect of recovery, were sent up the [Mississippi] river.
   The next day it was the same. I said nothing but got up and walked out of the tent and back again. The third day it was the same, but on the fourth day our Brigade Surgeon saw me and said, "This man can walk." so they decided to send me up the river. My bloody clothes were removed and they gave me a white shirt and a pair of drawers. The doctor seeing the good effect it had on my appearance said, "You are worth a dozen dead men." I was then sent up the river.
   I was hauled seven miles to the boat. We passed over Haines Bluff and reached the river. I don't know whether it was under a flag of truce or not, but one thing I do know is that it was a very rough road and a long and painful journey. By a piece of good luck I was placed in the officers ward. The doctor asked me my rank and I told him corporal. He said I wasn't a corporal but a captain, and that assured me good attention.
   The first thing I had to eat was a piece of pineapple. I had never tasted one before but have bought many since, but found none so good as that one. I suppose it was my extreme hunger. It pays to be considered an officer. Whether it was a piece of good luck or the providence of God that I got into the officers ward I don't know, but I had much better care while there.

Roberts recovered from his injuries and received a disability discharge on October 26, 1864.

[Source: John M. Roberts Papers, Smith Memorial Library, Indiana Historical Society. Photo courtesy of Indiana State Library].

For a Confederate enlisted man's perspective of the fighting and siege at Vicksburg, see
Other Titles detailing Blue Acorn Press' publication Blood & Sacrifice: The Civil War Journal of a Confederate Soldier.

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