VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty – Eight.

On the south side of a high bluff, over a mile behind the forts and trenches defending the landward side of Vicksburg, and just a half mile from the riverfront batteries holding off the Yankee navy to the west, stood a 2 story brick mansion, one of the finest homes in Vicksburg (above).  It's address was 1018 Crawford Street.  Across the street stood a church, next door the Balfour Mansion.

On Sunday, 28 June, 1863 it was called “the Willis' house”, because one of the cities' wealthiest men owned it - grand-nephew to the town's founder, “planter” and slave owner 42 year old Thomas Vick Willis. The siege caught him away, tending to his slaves and properties. 

But up the lovely spiral staircase on the second floor resided Tom's 30 year old wife  Mary with their 4 children and her slaves, all trapped in Vicksburg because her latest pregnancy had made travel unsafe.  

And on the ground floor, in the five public rooms, resided and worked the unhappiest man in all of  Vicksburg,  48 year old Lieutenant General John Clifford Pemberton (below).

On this day, the General had received an extraordinary letter. How it came into his hand is unknown, but it might have been passed to him by the recently promoted Major General John Steven's Bowen. No author signed the letter, although it claimed to speak for “Many Soldiers” in the trenches. And Pemberton can have harbored little doubt that it did. “Sir: In accordance with my own feelings,” it began, “ and that of my fellow soldiers, with whom I have conferred, I submit to your serious consideration the following note...”

Clearly, the author or author's knew generals, because they began by feeding his vanity. “We, as an army,” it said, “have as much confidence in you as a commanding general as we perhaps ought to have. We believe you have displayed as much generalship as any other man could have done under similar circumstances. We give you great credit for the stern patriotism you have evinced in the defense of Vicksburg during a protracted and unparalleled siege.”

Except, it was not an unparalleled siege. The Roman's siege of Jerusalem in 70 A.D. lasted some 4 months, and that same year the hill top fortress of Massada held out for about 90 days – more than twice as long as Vicksburg. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella had laid siege to Grenada from April 1491 to 2 January, 1492 – almost 8 months And Gibraltar had survived its “Great” siege from 24 June, 1779 to 7 February, 1783 – 3 years and 7 months. When General Pemberton got this note, Vicksburg had been under siege for a little over one month. And, historically, that seems to be just about “parallel” for the average siege.

Choosing to ignore such unpleasant realities, the writer continued. “ I also feel proud of the gallant conduct of the soldiers under your command in repulsing the enemy at every assault and bearing with patient endurance all the privations and hardships incident to a siege of forty-odd days' duration. Everybody admits that we have all covered ourselves in glory, but, alas! alas! General, a crisis has arrived in the midst of our siege.”

“Our rations have been cut down to one biscuit and a small bit of bacon per day. Not enough, scarcely, to keep soul and body together, much less to stand the hardships we are called upon to stand.” The writer noted, “...there is complaining and general dissatisfaction through out our lines.” The cause of all this was obvious. “Men don't want to starve,” warned the writer, “ and don't intend to, but they call upon you for justice...” Soldiers asking a commanding general for justice was coming close to insubordination. Still, the writer forged ahead. “The emergency of the case demands prompt and decided action on your part. If you can't feed us, you had better surrender us.”

This clearly was insubordination, and maybe even treason. But, warned the author, “Horrible as the idea is, (better this) than suffer this noble army to disgrace themselves by desertion.” Arguing these were “stubborn facts” the author insisted, “ I tell you plainly, men are not going to lie here and perish... hunger will compel a man to do almost anything. You had better heed a warning voice, though it is the voice of a private soldier. This army is now ripe for mutiny, unless it can be fed.”

The grammar was too perfect to be that of a “private soldier.”  General Pemberton (above) would have surely recognized that instantly. And there are no signatures on the single surviving copy. So why did Pemberton preserve this note? We are told it was found in his private papers after the siege. Perhaps it was to be used as evidence at a court martial. There was another possibility, of course. The letter  may have come from the other side of the trenches. The Army of the Tennessee knew perfectly well the conditions inside Vicksburg, as Mr. Dana's message to Stanton and Lincoln revealed.  This note might have been Yankee “psy-op”, and if it was, that would hold its own specific dread for the commander of the “American Gibraltar”. A hungry army is no threat to the enemy if the enemy knows how hungry they are.

By the end of June it was obvious to everyone that every warning  General Joseph Johnston had issued about Vicksburg had come true.  

And as "Old Joe" had warned, the key to Vicksburg was not the trench lines or the fortifications or the water batteries, not the Warren County Court house atop the highest hill in the city of hills. The key to Vicksburg was Snyder's Bluff, and Chickasaw Bayou six miles away. And just as Johnston had said, once that position fell, Vicksburg could not be held.

And as Joe Johnston had pointed out, having lost the long bridge over the Pearl River south of Jackson, any practical reason for holding Snyder's Bluff was also lost.  

Since 1832 railroad engineers had known it took only 8 pounds of force to start 1 ton of cargo moving on rails. And once the “track resistance” - inertia – was overcome the heavier the train, the lower the cost to move a pound of cargo on that train.  A 30 horsepower engine could keep a 70 ton train moving at 20 miles per hour – the distance a horse drawn wagon might cover in a good day – for as long as the fuel lasted. Any connection between the Confederacy and the Trans-Mississippi Confederacy, between the state of Mississippi and the government in Richmond Virginia  not via rail lines, was an illusion.

It was a lesson General Pemberton should have understood before he allowed himself to be trapped in Vicksburg,  Certainly, it was an idea he understood now, as June faded into July. 

- 30 - 

VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty-Seven

In the late afternoon of Sunday, 16 May, 1863, troopers of Captain William Yerger's company of General William Wirt Adams' Mississippi cavalry regiment, slipped back into the state capital of Jackson. The town of 4,000 had been occupied by the Yankees for less than 48 hours, but Adam's troopers discovered that Federal troops had destroyed the state arsenal and foundry, burned down a gun carriage factory and associated shops, including a tent maker, and – most importantly - burned the trestles of the long Vicksburg and Alabama railroad bridge over the Pearl River. Sherman's corps had also torn up and bent the rails for miles in all directions. It was Sherman's opinion that as a military asset the city of Jackson would be out of business for 6 months.

General Joseph (“Old Joe”) Johnston (above), the Confederate commander for Tennessee and Mississippi, knew the Pearl River bridge must be his top priority, more important than even support of Pemberton's army in Vicksburg.  

One hundred miles north of Jackson (above), safely beyond Yankee reach, was the town of Grenada, where Johnston had ordered 400 locomotives and rail cars to be safely parked.  All that rolling stock was now trapped west of the Pearl River. The longer those locomotives sat in Grenada – or anywhere else - the greater the chance Yankee cavalry would destroy them all. It was the core of Jefferson Davis' fallacy that Vicksburg was a nail, a point to be defended. Or to put it another way, Vicksburg may have been Lincoln's key, but the Pearl River bridge was the lock. With the lock smashed, the key was meaningless.

So while in the Mississippi capital Governor John Jones Pettus fretted over stolen draperies, Johnston huddled with his Chief Quartermaster, 30 year old Major Livingston Mims, on how to replace the Pearl River bridge. While that was happening, Johnston struggled to assemble an army. He had less than 4,000 men, mostly General John Gregg's brigade. But within 48 hours, as expected, more troops arrived. First came the South Carolina brigade of General State's Rights Gist. 

With them came General William Henry Talbot Walker's (above) Georgia brigade. Johnston quickly recognized Walker's experience in the “old army” made him “the only officer in my command competent to lead a division” and on 23 May he promoted Walker to Major General and folded his and Gregg's and Gists brigades into a division.

Evander McNair's brigade of Tennessee regiments arrived soon after, along with 4 Texas regiments under 41 year old lawyer, General Mathew Duncan Ector. On 19 May, Brigadier General Samuel B. Maxey marched into Jackson with his troops, the last of the Port Hudson defenders to escape before the Yankees surrounded that place. None of these men had wagons, and they brought little artillery with them, but they were present and accounted for.  

These 6, 498 men formed a division under 44 year old Mississippi planter, Major General Samuel Gibbs French (above).   Johnston's newly named Army of Relief now numbered about 11,000 men.  And that afternoon the division of Major General William Wing Loring came stumbling in as well.

Separated - intentionally or not - from Pemberton's main force during the battle of Champion Hill on 16 May - - Loring (above)'s  men had 'force marched' 40 miles in 24 hours to escape.  His artillerymen spiked 12 of their own cannon and freed their horses. Many of the infantry dropped their muskets and ammunition while crossing rivers to lighten their load. At 3:00 am on 17 May they had reached Dillon, where both Loring and Pemberton had expected to find Grant's supply trains. 

There were no Yankees in Dillon, but scouts soon found 500 Federal troops at Utica, forcing Loring to march his exhausted 6,000 men around the town. That evening they reached Crystal Springs, where they finally felt safe enough to collapse and sleep.

Taking a day to recover, Loring's division reached Jackson on the evening of 19 May. He had lost “...our artillery, wagons, knapsacks, blankets, and everything we had.” They had also lost 3,000 stragglers. Most of those men would stumble in over the next week. But Loring's division of 6,049 men would not be an offensive force for weeks. 

Three days later a brigade from North Carolina arrived in Jackson, having been on the move since early May. It's commander was the brilliant tactician, foul mouthed and argumentative and often drunk General Nathan George “Shanks” Evens. This brigade was folded into French's division. Johnston's Army of relief now numbered about 23,000 men.

Adam's troopers gave Johnston a good idea what he faced in trying to relieve Vicksburg. As early as 10 June, Grant had assigned General John Parke's IX Corps to defend his supply base at Snyder's Bluff. And he had pushed a division from Sherman's Corps eastward to defend the crossing at the Big Black River Bridge, and pushed a second toward Sataritia, about half way to Yazoo City. As reinforcements continued to arrive in Jackson, Johnston countered by sending General Walker's division to Yazoo City, and Loring's division 6 miles behind at Benton, along the Southern Railroad to Vicksburg.

By 31 May, Major Mims had gathered “large numbers” of slaves and enough iron rails and cross ties, to begin replacing the tracks and short bridges immediately around Jackson. But the Pearl River bridge was a greater challenge. 

The river itself was only about 50 feet wide. But the the approach from Jackson first dropped 5 to 8 feet off the lip of of an escarpment – part of the Jackson Hills. Wooden trestles were the obvious solution there. However, a hundred yards or so on, the roadbed abruptly dropped over a 20 foot cliff, to the river itself. A pair of surviving stone towers had and would again carry rails across that muddy stream.

But on the eastern shore, the construction engineers had to deal with a quarter mile wide flood plain, with a water table inches below the surface. Trestles here had been mounted on broad stone bases until higher and firmer ground was reached. But the Yankees had burned all those trestles. The charred wood and bent rails had to be cleared from these stones, heat cracked stones replaced, and new trestles cut and transported to the site. It would not be until mid June before Major Mims could even begin rebuilding the long bridge.

On Friday, 29 May, Johnston (above) sent a dispatch rider to Lieutenant General Pemberton, 50 miles to the west. As usual it was a less than cheerful note. It began, “I am too weak to save Vicksburg. Can do no more than attempt to save you and your garrison. It will be impossible to extricate you, unless you co-operate, and we make mutually supporting movements. Communicate your plans and suggestions, if possible.”

That same day, 50 miles away in Vicksburg, Lieutenant General John Clifford Pemberton (above) sent his own message to Johnston. “I have 18,000 men to man the lines and river front; no reserves. I do not think you should move with less than 30,000 or 35,000, and then, if possible, toward Snyder's Mill, (Chickasaw Bayou, after) giving me notice...My men are in good spirits, awaiting your arrival...You may depend on my holding the place as long as possible...”.

On Monday, 1 June, 43 year old Kentucky politician, General John Cabell Breckinridge (above)  arrived from Chattanooga, with his 5,200 man division. Breckenridge was a friend of Johnston's, and had suffered in Tennessee under General Braxton Bragg. And, finally, on Wednesday, 3 June, the 3,000 man cavalry division of 27 year old William Hicks “Red” Jackson rode in from Tennessee. All told, Johnston now had about 27,000 men. It was unlikely he would ever be stronger, as Confederate Secretary of War James Seddon (below), continually reminded Johnston.

Seddon (above)  offered to send him even more of Bragg's army, if Johnston would just attack. But Johnston cautioned, “To take from Bragg what is required to deal effectively with Grant will involve yielding Tennessee.” Johnston could almost hear Confederate President Jefferson Davis screaming in the background when Sedden replied on Tuesday, 16 June. “I rely on you” said Seddon/Davis, “to avert the loss. If better resources do not offer, you must attack.”

Davis (above) was determined to hold Tennessee and Vicksburg. Johnston had long tried to explain his President, that the Confederacy lacked the strength to do both.  Better to lose one, allowing the south to concentrate its full strength to save the second, after which the first might be retaken. The two men had argued this point for 3 years now, without either one convincing the other. They had now been reduced to using Seddon as a cut out, to avoid Johnston resigning or Davis firing him.

Still, Johnston tried one more time on Tuesday, 19 June. “You do not appreciate the difficulties in the course you direct,” - “that” being an all out attack on Grant - “nor the probability and consequence of failure. Grant's position, naturally strong, is entrenched...His reinforcements have been at least equal to my whole force. The Big Black covers him from attack, and would cut off our retreat if defeated. We cannot combine operations with Pemberton, from uncertain and slow communication. The defeat of this little army would at once open Mississippi and Alabama to Grant.”

Seddon/Davis' reply showed clearly that Davis was again on the verge of firing Johnston. And that would have done no one any good.  “Consequences realized,” Seddon/Davis bluntly responded.  “I take the responsibility, and leave you free to follow the most desperate course the occasion may demand. Rely upon it, the eyes and hopes of the whole Confederacy are upon you, with the full confidence that you will act, and with the sentiment that it is better to fail nobly daring, than, through prudence even, to be inactive. I rely upon you to save Vicksburg.'"

To Save Vicksburg. This was Johnston's new mission. How he was to achieve this Davis offered no advice, and would accept no advice. Maybe there was no way to do what Davis insisted upon.  But Davis insisted it be tried.

- 30 -

VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty - Six

On the Wednesday afternoon of 24 June, 1863, Captain Ferdinand Osmin (Fred) Claiborne, commander of the Maryland 3^rd Light Artillery, received word that the Yankees appeared to be moving toward the rebel trench line, a quarter mile south of the Hall's Ferry road. The Maryland cannon were supporting Colonel Alexander Reynold's Tennessee brigade, which had seen little action so far, in part because the ground here was more broken, and in part because it was five miles from the Yankee supply base at Chickasaw Bayou, and a Yankee Supply road was still under construction. So it seemed unlikely the Yankees were serious in their movements. Still, anxious to be involved in the great siege, Fred borrowed a handheld telescope from his cousin, Colonel William Howard Claiborne, and hurried forward to see for himself.

Neither Captain Claiborne, nor most of the crewmen in his battery, were from Maryland. Fred himself had been born in Vicksburg, but had been raised, educated and joined the Confederate army in New Orleans. He had been transferred to the 3^rd Maryland while in Richmond, Virginia, at the behest of one of his many cousins.  Because of the continual "wastage" of war, most of the 100 men in the unit had been drafted from East Tennessee or Georgia. So far, they had done most of their fighting in Tennessee and Mississippi. Like an increasing number of Confederate units, after 3 years of war, the 3^rd Maryland Artillery, were orphans.

Since the core ideology of the Confederacy was state's rights,  state regiments were supplied by state governments,   And with no state politicians to protect them, the 6 guns of the 3^rd Maryland were repeatedly split up, the parts sent on distant duties.  Back in April, 3 guns had been assigned to the captured boat “Queen of the West”.  And when it had been sunk at Grand Lake, Louisiana,  all of those guns were lost, and 9 gunners drowned.

Just days earlier, Fred had noted the sad condition of his men. “Our rations are growing more scarce every day...We have a quantity of bacon yet on hand, but...the men receive only one-quarter rations... such as rice, pea meal and rice flour. The corn has given out long since. Rations of sugar, lard, molasses and tobacco are issued, but this does not make amends for the want of bread, and the men are growing weaker every day.” 

Today, seeing that the Yankees had pushed a battery forward, and were opening fire, Fred Claiborne gave the signal for his 3 remaining cannon to open fire as well. And as he did so, a Yankee shell burst nearby and a chunk of spinning shrapnel sliced off much of the Captain's face, killing him instantly. Just another young man sacrificed to defend Vicksburg.

Doctor Colonel Ashbel Smith (above), a Texan by choice and a reluctant rebel, watched the decline of his men in the Texas Lunette as only a doctor could.  He noted the rations issued to his men had been, “...reduced to little more than sufficient to sustain life. Five ounces of musty corn-meal and pea flour were nominally issued daily. In point of fact, this allowance did not exceed three ounces.” Educated at Yale and in Paris, the 57 year old Doctor Smith had intimately witnessed epidemics of cholera and Yellow Fever. Despite his own iron constitution, the doctor recognized the inevitable prognosis for Vicksburg. “...The health of the men did not seem to suffer immediately from want of rations, but all gradually emaciated and became weak...many were found with swollen ankles and symptoms of incipient scurvy.”

Weeks earlier, a “wag” within the city – unknown if the were civilian or military – had written out a bill of fare for an imagined “Hotel de Vicksburg”. The fantasy meal included “Mule Tail Soup, followed by Mule Rump Roast Stuffed with Rice. Or perhaps the discerning customers might prefer Mule Spare Ribs Plain with Mule Liver Hashed” But those had times had been given way when all but a hand full of the mules had been killed by federal artillery or slaughtered. The current bitter joke among Pemberton's hungry army was “Whatever became of Fido?” But in its turn, even that desperate jibe was losing its humor.

Across the lines, Grant could smell victory. A regular occupant of his headquarters, Charles Dana (above)  - the man sent by Secretary of War Stanton to keep an eye on Grant – caught the general's optimism. On Monday, 29 June, 1863, Dana notified Stanton that “Two separate parties of deserters from Vicksburg agree... rations have now been reduced lower than ever; that extreme dissatisfaction exists among the garrison, and that it is agreed on all hands that the city will be surrendered on Saturday, July 4, if, indeed, it can hold on so long as that.”

One week more. Inside the trench lines, the rebels had been hoping and praying for salvation, a salvation with a name – the persnickety and talented 56 year old Joseph Eggleston Johnston.

- 30 -