It was early evening when they arrived. Several Union soldiers asked for Mrs. Semmes to come to her front gate. When she did, they briskly told her to “remove everyone from your house. We will burn your house to the ground within the hour.”

 

Without uttering a word, she immediately fell to her knees in prayer. As she prayed, a strange light could be seen around her head. It frightened the soldiers. They asked her to stand. One of the soldiers said, “We will not burn your house after all but tell me. What were you praying? That we wouldn’t burn your house?”

 

She said, “I prayed that God’s will be done.”

 

And God’s will was done for Mrs. Semmes and all who lived in what is today Highway 19 North, near the apartments once known as Okatibbee Ridge, on that night.

 

Sherman’s orders on that fateful day were “burn and destroy.”

 

His final report:

 

“The destruction of Meridian and its railroad complex was thorough and methodical. North, south, east and west demolition teams were sent out. Dozens of regiments moved in a concerted effort to destroy as rapidly as possible the important rail center in Meridian. Meridian no longer exists.”

 

But he was wrong. Within 21 days the rails were repaired, and Meridian once again became a railroad center. But that cruel, cruel war was not over as Sherman continued his horrible total war strategy which meant there were no supply wagons attached to Sherman’s forces — no food, nothing. It was all taken from the landowners. Those who barely had anything. It had all been taken earlier in the war.

 

I understand there was a short letter written, at the time, by a young girl (a relative of mine). She sobbed as she wrote, that she had seen a large Union soldier ride away on her favorite pony and the pony’s back sagged with the soldier’s weight.

That cruel, cruel war finally ended April 1865.

 

Mississippians arm-in-arm survived a most terrible time. By war’s end, 59,000 Mississippi soldiers were dead or wounded. But those remaining made a crop, shared and ministered with each other and began, with God’s help, to rebuild a state that would not die.

 

Below is a continued segment from Margie Bearss’s book:

 

“It was several months after the deed was done that word arrived to me. You see that mad dog, Sherman, had confiscated my grandpa Reynolds farm located on the Decatur Road, east of Jackson. It was a large double log house (dogtrot style) with only women and children there. It was February 12, 1864, and their family-men were all off fighting. It was said that Sherman was extremely weary and needed a good meal and as well a night of undisturbed sleep. So he took food and shelter at the Reynolds farm, and he did pay Mrs. Reynolds.”

 

According to General Sherman’s memoirs, he had been awakened by shouting and pistol-shots which sounded close to the house. He jumped and inquired the position of the Union infantry which he himself had placed at the nearby cross-roads. His aide said they had gone. Then Sherman, who was dressed only in underwear, and without his boots, prepared to get into a corncrib, which was located behind the house, in order to make a defense.

 

A witness said, “I must say, even after all of the months that have passed since that night of February 12, and the fact that Sherman did escape, I find a grin upon my face when thinking of that sight.”

 

But, yes, Sherman was a survivor even as he played the part of a demon throughout the south, some have said. It had been quiet a year for the general but now he was ready to slash and tear the heart out of Mississippi.

 

His dedication to deed was always exact but now he seemed to relish the idea that Mississippi especially deserved the terror and bombardment he now planned. He said, “War is hell.” After all wasn’t that the State where he had lost his grandest prize, his 9-year-old son Willie.

 

It was in September 1863 when Sherman sent for his wife Ellen and their four oldest children. He needed a vacation, a break and now that Vicksburg had fallen. It seemed the time was right even though the fevers raged in the state. When he had been warned about bringing his family into the path of the sickness, Sherman had replied, “My camps are clean. There is no danger.” But the boy had died and now Sherman was out of his mind. Willie was his favorite child and Sherman had set great hope in his development one day as a soldier.

 

All he could do was send home the remaining family, plus Willie’s body, which were loaded onto the Atlantic steamboat and sent up river to their home, Cairo, Illinois. It was a horrific time for the general. But he turned his attention to the upcoming campaign, a march across the heart of Mississippi. And many believe by his changed actions, his concept of war was now total war, and the change had only begun the months following Willie’s death. The revenge for his son’s death had begun.

 

And who was to lead the charge for the Confederates? Lt. Gen. Leonidas Polk, who made his headquarters in Meridian and was a bishop turned war general. It was his decision not to commit the infantry to battle Sherman’s forces. Therefore the women, children and elderly left at home while their men were away fighting were at the mercy of the Yankee’s.

 

It was Christmas Eve, 1863, when Confederate Gen. French was ordered to proceed to Jackson in order to inspect the railroad bridges and hasten their repair but according to his diary; he failed to do his job, rather “In the afternoon we drove to Jackson. And at Mrs. Ruck’s we had tableau and charades.” He then received orders to move with his command to Meridian. Jackson was isolated from the rest of the Confederacy due to needed railroad repair.

 

By February 5, Confederate Gen. Wirt Adams’ troops, who were greatly outnumbered, valiantly defended the Jackson Road at “Tombstone.” The railroad was still open there, and all of the public stores quickly loaded and sent to Meridian. The first clash was at Robinson Road with Union Gen. Winslow and Adam’s men. Later Sherman said the only two Confederate generals who were a worry to him were  Nathan Bedford Forrest and Adams.

 

From that night forward, Jackson has been known as the “Chimney’s” such was the horrific damage suffered. Charles Smith of the 32nd Ohio wrote in his diary, “The first signs of the city was chimneys standing along, of which there were almost an innumerable number … There were many large and fine buildings in smoking ruins, many others in flames and black smoke arose in great swelling clouds …”

 

But the Meridian campaign was yet to come.

 

Come to Meridian Railroad Museum, and we will tell you the entire story of that terrible time and the gallantry provided by the railroads.

 

References:

“Sherman’s Forgotten Campaign” by Margie Riddle Bearss

“Historic Photos of Mississippi” by Anne B. McKee

 

Anne McKee is executive director at Meridian Railroad Museum.