VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty - Five

 

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, Spain 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 for Pemberton's defense 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 ton 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 between Vicksburg Mississippi and Richmond Virginia not held together by rail lines was practically speaking, an illusion.

It was a lesson Johnston had been trying to explain to General Pemberton for six months  And it seems likely Pemberton (above) had agreed all along. But President Davis in far off Richmond did not. And Davis issued the orders. Vicksburg must be held. In so ordering him  Davis had created a trap which Pemberton could not escape. This was abundantly clear as June faded into July.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Eighty - Four

 

When Captain William Yeger's company of cavalry slipped back into Jackson, Mississippi, late in the afternoon of 16 May, 1863, the town had been occupied by Yankees for less than 48 hours.  Still, Yeger discovered the 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. It was Yankee General 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.   Without that bridge, he could not even comfortably supply his reoccupation of Jackson.

One hundred miles north of Jackson (above), beyond Yankee reach for the moment, in the town of Grenada, 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 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 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 to lighten their load while crossing rivers.  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. Not looking for a fight, Loring forced marched 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 to come. 

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 of 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 division 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 could 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 (above, right center). But the Yankees had burned all those trestles. The charred wood and bent rails had to be cleared and the heat cracked stones replaced. 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 in Jackson from Chattanooga, with his 5,200 man division. Breckenridge was a friend of Johnston's, who  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 arguing that it would be better to lose Tennessee, so the south could concentrate its full strength to save Vicksburg,  after which Tennessee  could be retaken. But he never said that explicitly.  As a politician, he couldn't. But Johnston never understood that subtly. The two men had argued this point for 3 years now, without either one understanding 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.  Maybe there was no way to do what Davis insisted upon.  But Davis insisted it be tried. Whatever the cost.

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VICKSBURG Chapter Thirty - Two

 

On Saturday, 9 May, 1863, 56 year old General Joseph Eggelston Johnson (above) received a telegram from the Confederate Secretary of War, 47 year old James Alexander Seddon. In classic Seddon double-talk, it read, “Proceed at once to Mississippi and take chief command of the forces there, giving to those in the field, as far as practicable, the encouragement and benefit of your personal direction. Arrange to take for temporary service with you, or to be followed without delay, three thousand good troops...now on their way to General Pemberton...and more may be expected.”

To Johnson's experienced eye the missive set him up to be blamed for the military disaster created by the arrogant meddlesome martinet, Confederate President Jefferson Davis ((above). And hidden in Seddon's verbosity were two ugly realities. There were no additional troops available, and Davis reserved the right to make things worse by interfering at any time with Johnson's command. 

The unwelcome call to duty found Johnson still recovering from his 1862 wounds, almost bedridden in muddy little village of Tullahoma, Tennessee, watching the 45,000 hungry men of The Army of Tennessee slowly starving to death.  It was clear to Johnson, that his subordinate, 46 year old General Braxton Bragg, was going to be easy prey, as soon as the well fed 50,000 man Federal Army of the Cumberland,  under 42 year old Major General William Starke “Rosy” Rosecrans, decided to move against them.  But south of Bragg's precarious position was the vital railroad junction town of Chattanooga, Tennessee, through which food and arms from Alabama and Georgia were being  carried to the rebel Army of Northern Virginia.  Surprisingly little of that bounty reached Bragg's much closer but slowly dwindling army.

Like the arrogant and annoying carbuncle Jefferson Davis thought him to be, Johnson replied promptly. He wrote, “ I shall go immediately, although unfit for field-service. I had been prevented, by the orders of the Administration, from giving my personal attention to military affairs in Mississippi at any time since the 22d of January. On the contrary, those orders had required my presence in Tennessee during the whole of that period.” You could almost hear Davis spit in reply across the humming telegraph wires.

Pausing in his whining, on Sunday morning, 10 May, 1863, Joseph Johnson boarded an express train headed south for Chattanooga. Arriving on the Tennessee River, he was less than 400 miles from his destination, via first the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, to Corinth, Mississippi, where he would previously have changed to the Mobile and Ohio rail line directly to Jackson. At 30 miles an hour the journey should have taken less than a day. But Corinth had been in Federal hands for a year, and that route was no longer available to Confederates.

So, from Chattanooga, General Johnson had to continue 140 miles south via the Western and Atlantic Railroad to Atlanta, Georgia. There he had to switch to the Atlanta and West Point Railroad to connect in that city with the Western Railway of Alabama, in order to reach Montgomery - another 160 miles of travel. It is famously only 50 miles from Montgomery to Selma, Alabama, home in 1863 to the Ordnance and Naval Foundry complex at the head of navigation on the Alabama River. And it was only 50 miles further to Meridian, Mississippi, along the planned route of the Alabama and Mississippi Railroad. But the war had broken out before that line had reach much beyond Selma, and the final 50 mile gap would never be completely closed – a bridge over the Tombigbee River would not be built until the 1870's.

So, after reaching Selma, General Johnson had to shift to a spur of the Nashville and Louisville railroad, which traveled 176 miles south and west to Mobile Alabama. There he was able to transfer to the Mobile and Ohio railroad for the 150 mile trip almost due north to Meridian, Mississippi. Once there, the weary and wounded General could board a Southern Railroad express for the final 100 miles to the capital city - Jackson, Mississippi. The 400 mile original trip had been almost doubled and the travel time tripled. Johnson did not arrive in Jackson until Wednesday, 13 May, 1863 – a day late and a far more than a dollar short.

As the sun rose on Tuesday, 12 May 1863, 19 year old regimental adjutant Henry Otis Dwight (above), was marching north out of Utica, Mississippi in the lead of 7,000 federal infantry. He recalled, “The weather was splendid, the roads were in fine condition and there was plenty to eat in the country.” He also noted, “...we were more conscientious about taking (about) what we wanted than where we were.”

Where they were was deep in the bowels of the Confederacy, without a safe line of retreat or a reliable line of supply. And yet they were supremely confident in themselves and their commanders - from 38 year old Colonel Manning Ferguson Force of the 20^th Ohio, all the way up to 37 year old commander of the 3^rd division, 37 year old Illinois native John “Jack” Alexander Logan.

Logan had been born and raised in the southern tip of of the north which touched the slaves states of Missouri and Kentucky. The busy port of Cairo, at the junction of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers,  along with the towns of Thebes, Goshen and Karnak, inspired the title usually given to the region - “Little Egypt”. In fact Cairo, Illinois was further south than Richmond, Virginia. 

And although the 1847 state constitution made Illinois a “free state”, there were always slaves to be found in “Little Egypt”. And as a member of the state legislature in 1853, John Logan had authored the “Black Law”, which fined any free black man or woman $50 if they stayed in Illinois for longer than 10 days. It earned him the nickname, “Dirty Work Logan”. The fine was increased by $50 for each re-arrest. But even as members of his own family, and his long time law partner condemned him for the law and his support for slavery, John Logan, as a Stephen Douglas Democrat,  spoke against secession. At the behest of then Colonel Ulysses  Grant, he told a crowd of potential recruits, "There can be no neutrals in this war, only patriots or traitors."

It was understandable then, if there were many who thought “Black” John Logan was a little crazy. He certainly looked it. Logan was “...not a large man, (but) his long black hair, piercing ebony eyes, and swarthy complexion gave (him)...an impressive presence.” He was also a political general, given a command because he could raise troops and inspire loyalty in a conflicted region. And he turned out to be a damn good field commander. Wounded three times at Fort Donaldson, and reported as dead on the casualty list, he kept his unit in the fight and held off the rebel attempt to break out. General Logan missed the battle of Shiloh while his wife nursed him back to health. But by the spring of 1863, he was back in the saddle, and in command of the 3^rd Division as it marched across Mississippi.

What John Logan saw of slavery in the flesh, in all of its ugly sexist brutality,  convinced this racist that Americans of black skin must be given their freedom, and the right to vote. No less a man than Frederick Douglas once said that if a man like “Black” Jack Logan could have a change of heart about race, then there was hope for everyone. And out in front of  Logan's hope, just after 10:00am this Tuesday morning, was Henry Dwight, and the men of the 20^th Ohio.

Dwight wrote later, “The road lay through woods and fields, passing few houses, and what there were were as still as a farmhouse in haying time...Sometimes an old negro woman would appear, bowing and smirking, and then when the first embarrassment had worn off like she would say: “Lord a masay! Be there any more men where you uns come from? ‘Pears like as if I nebber saw so many men since I’se been born.” At this, some one would be sure to give the regular answer in such cases made and provided: “Yes, aunty, we come from the place where they make men.

“After a while... we heard two pops, which we were able to recognize as gunshots, far on in front. “Hello, somebody is shooting squirrels,” said one of the boys. “Pop, pop, pop,” came three more shots in quick succession, but a little nearer. “The squirrels are shooting back,” growled a burly Irishman, “and sure it’s meself that don’t approve of that kind of squirrel shooting, not a bit of it.”

It was the beginning of the battle or Raymond. And within a few hours, the military situation in Mississippi would be very different.

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