Lee returned his gaze to Cincinnati, visible through the foggy haze rising from the river.
“Barring a miracle my ultimatum will be shown to be a useless exercise, but I had to make it in order to remove the opprobrium of destroying this city from my shoulders — and from the shoulders of the Confederate Union. If the Rebels refuse the ultimatum they’ll be held accountable in the public mind for causing the battle to be fought here. That will be an important consideration in making us seen as the conductors of civilized warfare in the eyes of the world.”
“You don’t see any way of breaking their communications to Cincinnati indirectly, such as by cutting their line of communications at Lawrenceburg?” asked Alexander.
“Dick and I considered it,” Lee replied. “The deficiency in that idea is that we don’t have a railhead on our side of the river anywhere near Lawrenceburg. We can’t possibly bring up troops rapidly enough to bridge the river on the march like we did at the Wabash. These indirect attacks don’t seem to come to much in the face of an aggressive defense anyway. Fremont made fools of us at Gettysburg, and McClellan’s divisions were halted on the outskirts of Providence last week. That’s why you’re here. McClellan advised me not to attack the city until we had destroyed its communications by artillery bombardment. We must destroy every canal, railroad, and telegraph office in town before sending our men in there.
“After we take Cincinnati I expect Mac to call you to Providence to disable its railroad and telegraph communications before he sends his men in there again. So learn all you can about managing your fire control in this bombardment.”
Lee took the map of Cincinnati from his pocket and unfolded it. Before the war it had been the fifth or sixth largest city in the old United States, with around 160,000 people. Except for Rebel soldiers it was almost empty now. Fremont’s bombardment during the Partisan War followed by the destruction of St. Louis had shown its inhabitants that a river port on the border between the Free States and the Confederate Union was bound to see a heavy share of fighting. The arrival of Free State soldiers in the city and the sight of the glistening barrels of Confederate Union siege guns on the heights above Covington had convinced most of them that the time had come to skedaddle.
Lee looked at the points in the city that were marked as targets of the bombardment. They were identified on the map by x’s.
Oh, how my scale of operations has shrunk! Two weeks ago my map was the states of Illinois and Indiana, and my divisional fronts were counties. Now, I am planning my operations using a city map of Cincinnati where by divisional fonts are wards!
“Major Alexander, there’s to be no promiscuous firing into the city. Do your men have their assignments as to the specific targets they are authorized to fire on?”
“Yes, sir, the men know that their targets are confined to points of communications and transit: railroad stations, canal locks, bridges, telegraph offices, and the piers and warehouses on the river. Those targets plus counterbattery fire. But you do know, sir, that we’re using batches of gunpowder that were manufactured at many different places without uniform potency. Some batches are older than others, and that will further vary their potency. At this range our shots will carry long and short for dozens of yards. And the city is full of Rebels. I’ve told the men to fire on Rebel batteries that return our fire.”
“No needless destruction, though!” Lee reminded him.
“Sir,” said Taylor, “we won’t be doing anything that Fremont didn’t do when he shot the Douglas men out of there. He’s already made a good start at the work of destruction.”
Lee could see that this was true. The commercial district by the river had burned during Fremont’s bombardment. The crude rebuilding in the months since then had erected flimsy structures made of roughhewn logs and shingles. A few consisted only of canvas and rope. Some were warehouses used to supply the Rebel soldiers pushing through Madison. Others were taverns and bordellos frequented by the stevedores and the soldiers transiting the city.
“Fremont had a few batteries of field artillery that he used to chase a few hundred drunken rioters out of town,” replied Lee. “We’ve got siege guns up there that will be firing on a city garrisoned by a dozen full-strength Rebel regiments equipped with their own artillery.”
Lee looked over his shoulder at the guns that were positioned in tiers on the heights over Covington. The two biggest, emplaced at the military crest were fearsome rifled cannon named Lilly Belle and Lady Kate, brought up from the forts at New Orleans. They fired 128 pound shells and solid shot bolts. Below them, guns were arranged in tiers of decreasing bore. The bottom tier held 120 32-pound smoothbore cannons, potent weapons in their own right. Alexander had organized these in groups of ten. The gunners of each group were trained to salvo in unison on a single target. A salvo from ten of these 32 pound smoothbore cannons would demolish any structure in town just as thoroughly as a shot from the big rifled guns higher up.
“Try not to hit any of the taverns and cat houses,” joked Taylor. “You know my Louisiana Tigers have arrived to take their part in the assault.”
Alexander laughed while Lee rolled his eyes. Another thing I’ll have to worry about — rambunctious Cajuns running amok in what’s left of the place. I hope some Rebel has had the foresight to destroy the liquor stocks in the taverns, but I wouldn’t count on it. The liquor won’t last long after our men get to whatever is left of the grog shops.
“We’ve got nothing to do but wait on their answer to the ultimatum, which isn’t due until two o’clock,” continued Taylor. “May I suggest that we draw early rations and feed ourselves, Alexander’s gun crews, and the infantry that will be going into Cincinnati — let the men eat their fill of the fresh cooked beef we have left. They won’t be getting anything but hardtack once the fighting starts.”
Lee called to his orderly and gave the orders to draw rations for the officers and men.
An hour later the officer that Lee had sent into Cincinnati under flag of truce the day before came back across the river to Confederate lines and made his way up the hills to Lee’s headquarters.
“Sir, I met with Mayor Davis and Rebel General George Crook commanding the Cincinnati Garrison,” the officer reported. “They have referred it to their President Lincoln. He has telegraphed his reply.” The officer handed Lincoln’s terse telegraphed reply to Lee:
GEN LEE. YOUR OFFER PROPOSING SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES AT CINCINNATI AND VICINITY IS DECLINED. A. LINCOLN.
Lee turned to Alexander. “Signal your men to open a general bombardment.”
“No warning shots?” asked Dick Taylor.
Lee shook his head. “The ultimatum is the only warning required. They know the consequences of rejecting it. Major Alexander, order your batteries to fire at will on designated targets.”
Alexander raised the pole flying the blue and white flags that signaled his gunners to open fire. Then he, Lee, and Taylor placed their hands over their ears and opened their mouths to equalize the air pressure.
The first guns to open fire were the 128 pounders. On their signal 180 guns began firing on their pre-sighted targets. The simultaneous concussions rocked the earth and air. Despite Alexander’s concern about inconsistent gunpowder scattering the shots, the salvoes mostly impacted at or near their targets. Shells from Lilly Belle and Lady Kate plowed into the Little Miami Railroad Depot simultaneously, blowing out its supports and collapsing the roof. Geysers of water spewed from the Miami Canal as shells burst its locks. Solid bolts blew the railroad bridges over the canals off their abutments. Nearly a hundred shells from the 32-pounders obliterated the flimsy reconstructed warehouses near the river. The “shorts” from these least accurate of the guns lashed the river like a hailstorm.