June 22, 1863, Menphis Daily Appeal (Atlanta, Ga)
A correspondent of the New York Times, writing from Grant’s camp, states that a Federal captain who was taken prisoner during the siege, and who was kept in Vicksburg several days, reports the scenes in the city as fearful. He says:
The women and children all remain in town, although ordered at various times to leave. On the day our men left, a morning report showed the sad fact that, up to that time, 119 of these unfortunates had been killed by our shells, among whom is the wife of General Pemberton. The women of Vicksburg are either brave beyond ordinary mortals, or desperate in the extreme. Shells search every part of the town, and yet the children play as usual upon the streets, and the women seek no protection, but boldly promenade the public thoroughfares and attend to their household duties without fear. In a house close to the jail our men saw several ladies, who sat in groups on the piazza, moved leisurely about the house, and at times made the air melodious with voice and piano.
What quality is this shown by these women? Is it heroism, desperation, or what? Death is all about them–it hisses through the air; crashes through their edifices, smites down their innocent children and themselves, and yet they unconcernedly sit, sing, chat, and laugh through it all–through a combination of horrors that would almost make a coward of the bravest men that ever drew a sword.
These things seem incredible but they are true, for our prisoners unite in vouching for the fact, all phases of which they themselves heard and witnessed.