THE FIRST DAY Chapter Five

 

I think the smartest thing Brigadier General Daniel Tyler did that June – and he did a lot of very smart things the last 2 weeks of that month - was to not assert his authority on arriving in Martinsburg, Virginia. But when he stepped off the train from Harpers Ferry at 8:00 that Sunday morning, 14 June, 1863, the 62 year old Tyler found Colonel B.F. Smith just leading the 1,200 man Martinsburg garrison out to face a rebel threat. Rather than create confusion on the eve of battle, Tyler sized up Smith in a glance, judged him competent, wished him good luck, offered to supply advice if asked, and concentrated on loading the last train out of town.

An hour later a rider appeared in front of the Federal lines with a note from sourful rebel Brigadier General Albert “Grumble” Jenkins (above), addressed to the “Commanding Officer U.S. Forces near Martinsburg”. The note demanded the immediate surrender of the town or threatened its destruction. The post script added: “An immediate reply is necessary.” Technically, the Federal Commander was Tyler. But the Mexican War veteran never hinted, then or later, that he should have answered. Colonel Smith did - after delaying for an hour to buy time. He told Jenkins, “ You may commence shelling as soon as you choose.”

It was now closing in on 11:00 a.m., and the old man who had spent a sleepless night on an express train out of Baltimore, still found the energy to supervise the loading of ammunition and food, and dispatching it to safety, while at the same time laying out a line of retreat for Smith and his soldiers. It is a testament to Tyler's cool competence that he marched into Harper's Ferry (above)  the next morning, Monday, 15 June at the head of all Colonel Smith's men. Tyler's reward for this display of cool professionalism was to be saddled with defending a place the legendary “Stonewall” Jackson himself considered indefensible.

Since 1761, when Robert Harper began operating his ferry where the Potomac River cut through the quartzite crests of the once towering Appalachian mountains, its junction with the Shenandoah River had been a magnet for power hungry people. Between 1801 when it opened, and 1861, when retreating federals burned most of it, the “U.S. Musket Factory” at Harpers Ferry built half a million weapons. But even after the factorties' destruction and looting in 1861, the site lost very little of its strategic importance. If you wanted to enter the fertile Shenandoah Valley from the north, you had to start at Harpers Ferry. And the fastest way to get there was on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.

By the start of the Civil War the B & O ran 380 miles of iron rails, beginning in Baltimore and running first to Fredrick, Maryland, where it touched the north shore of the Potomac River. Turning west for 12 miles the railroad squezzed around the base of the 300 foot tall Maryland Heights, before crossing to the southern shore at Harpers Ferry. 

The line then wound west through 11 tunnels and over 113 bridges to Piedmont and Grafton, Virginia before reaching the Ohio River at Wheeling. Branch lines drew in the produce from the rich farms of the Shenandoah Valley, and coal from the mines of western Virginia and Pennsylvania – 1/3 of the railroad's profits in 1861 came from transporting coal to northern factories. And even though northern military commanders were slow to realize the advantages of the B&O for moving troops, their political master were always sensitive to threats to corporate property.

However, the Rebels occupying Harpers Ferry found Federal artillery glowering down from Maryland Heights (above), which forced them to evacuate the town within months of its capture. But they captured it again during Lee's 1862 invasion of Maryland. They returned it after the failure at Antietam, but many assumed the rebels would be back this year, 1863. And after General Milroy's disastrous stand at Winchester, the new commander of Harper's Ferry, General Taylor, lacked the manpower to even be certain of holding the Heights.

Daniel Tyler (above) knew Harpers Ferry well. After graduating from West Point in 1819, the Connecticut native had specialized in ordinance, and in 1832 he was made "Superintendent of the Inspectors of Contract Arms." The next year he rejected every musket offered by private industry. His integrity so angered the industrialists that the following year, when Tyler was recommended for promotion to Chief of Ordinance, President Andrew Jackson appointed a business friendly southerner instead. In his letter of resignation, Tyler complained, “I have lost all ambition to be connected with the service where... the fact that a man was not born in the South was a bar to promotion."

But Daniel Tyler's brains and patriotism were never in doubt. As a civil engineer, he got rich saving 3 failing railroads from bankruptcy, the last being the Macon and Western, which paid 8% dividends under his direction. In 1849, when asked to explain why he unexpectedly resigned, he told the board of directors, “Gentlemen...You are educating your young men to hate the Union and despise the North, and the result will be a conflict within ten years, and in that event I mean to be with my family north of Mason and Dixon Line.” And he was, growing richer over the decade serving on 4 more northern railroads before the outbreak of war in December of 1860.

General Tyler (above) served with distinction at Bull Run, but a year of service outside Cornith, Mississippi, under the indecisive and untrustworthy General Henry Halleck broke his health and spirit. But the old man came back in the spring of 1863, and was dispatched to rescue the disaster in the Shenandoah Valley. At 7:00 p.m. on the Monday he took command at Harpers Ferry, Tyler telegraphed that the remnants of General Milroy's mismanagement had arrived. “I am sending everybody over to Maryland Heights... Our effective force here...is not over 4,000 men.”

The cool head at Harpers Ferry soon showed it value. At midday, Tuesday, 16 June, Tyler told his boss in Baltimore, Major General Robert Shenck, “...rebel cavalry this side of Halltown (3 miles to the south west), (are) endeavoring to flank our pickets.” But by 9:40 that night he could reassure his superior, “We have not been attacked at Harpers Ferry. We have been threatened from the direction of Charlestown (6 miles to the southwest), but no rebel columns have advanced nearer...” Then, at 6:00 p.m. on Wednesday, 17 June, General Tyler was forced to telegraph his boss, “I am requested by Major General Hooker to (send) our infantry...(to) Noland and Haulings Fords. This is out of my command. Will you attend to it?”

It was a simple matter of chain of command. Brigadier General Daniel Tyler in Harper's Ferry, reported to Major General Robert Shenck (above) who commanded the VIII Corps headquartered 70 miles away in Baltimore. Tyler's orders came from Baltimore. Tyler's logistics – his supplies and reinforcements - came from Baltimore. 

And from Baltimore, Major General Shenck reported to General-of-the-Army Henry Halleck (above) in Washington, D.C..

Major General "Fighting Joe" Hooker (above) commanded the Army of the Potomac, which usually operated south of Washington, D.C.  But as the mercurial Hooker followed the Army of Northern Virginia north of the Potomac river, he was a lot closer to Harpers Ferry than Shenck was in Baltimore. And the increasingly panicky Hooker seemed determined not to understand he had no authority to issue orders to General Tyler.  Nor did the commander of 80,000 Federal infantry, artillery and cavalry seem willing to understand why Tyler's 4,000 men could not simply abandon Maryland Heights, to provide information to benefit Hooker. Fighting Joe's  inability to order about Tyler's paltry command became an obsession, to the point that the Major General went a little nuts – never a good thing in a field commander.

I am tempted here to remind you of what General Omar Bradly said – so I will. “Amateurs study strategy. Professionals study logistics.”

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VICKSBURG Chapter Sixteen

 

I think the daguerreotype of John Clifford Pemberton (above) has influenced what historians think of the Vicksburg commander . To me, frankly, he looks a bit seedy. But in the flesh this 5 foot ten inch curly brown headed self made aristocrat was born with a silver stick up his butt and a marble chip on his shoulder. A few, a very few, were allowed to call him "Jack". With all others, he offered only cold reserve. To give our hero the most favorable interpretation, John Pemberton was the most famous American led to treason by his heart since Benedict Arnold. But there was a lot of that going around in 1860.

John Pemberton's family were wealthy Philadelphia Quakers, and the shallow youth inherited a brittle sense of entitlement. He was quick to take and deliver offense. He confessed to his mother, “I cannot always bear reproach though I deserve it,” and promised to do better. But he never did. While at West Point - from 1833 to 1837 - John became engaged to a Philadelphia girl. Then he met a more exciting paramour in New York City. The young lieutenant broke his engagement by mail. Shortly there after his new love buckled under family pressure and ended their affair. After that double fault John swore off serious women.

During John's antebellum West Point years, his best friend was William Whann Mackall (above), from a prominent Maryland slave owning family. Although trained as artillerymen, both cadets eventually became competent staff officers, dedicated to detail, minutia and the thousand little  things that have to happen before a more empathetic field officer could inspire soldiers to fight. When asked to risk his own life, neither John nor William ever flinched. But John often charged to a trumpet only he could hear.

While stationed on the isolated Minnesota frontier, John's abrasive, self centered nature worsened, and he became a martinet, sparking conflicts with his fellow officers and inspiring one insulted corporal to take a shot at him. In 1842, while stationed at Fort Monroe, Virginia, the 34 year old Pemberton met his "Peggy Shippen". She was the 22 year old, 5 foot 2 inch tall Martha "Pattie" Thompson (above) . His wooing of the young lady was interrupted by the Mexican American War of 1846 - 1847.

His current enemy at Vicksburg, Federal General Ulysses Grant, described the Pemberton he served with under Major General Zachary Taylor. in northern Mexico this way;  "A more conscientious, honorable man never lived," Grant generously wrote. "I remember when a (written) order was issued that none of the junior officers should be allowed horses during the marches...Young officers not accustomed to it soon...were found lagging behind." After a verbal order rescinded the restriction, all the other officers remounted, "Pemberton alone said, 'No,' he would walk," remembered Grant. And, "...he did walk, though suffering intensely... he was scrupulously particular in matters of honor and integrity."

When he returned to Virginia, brevet Major John C. Pemberton proposed to Martha.  Her Episcopalian father, William Henry Thompson,  was skeptical of the Quaker from Pennsylvania. He was a wealthy shipping magnate, dispatching vessels from Norfolk and Charleston to and from French ports in the Caribbean. 

And like most prosperous Virginians, the Thompsons defined their wealth in part by the number of their slaves. John's passion for Martha beguiled him into writing his own mother, "The more I see of slavery the better I think of it, " and he dismissed the victims as "lazy plantation Negroes". This disturbed John's anti-slavery Quaker family. But despite misgivings all around, the couple were married on 18 January, 1848 in Norfolk, Virginia and then moved to Philadelphia.

Marriage and fatherhood - 3 children over the next decade - did not mellow John. He argued with at lest one superior so often he was arrested for insubordination. When cooler heads prevailed, the charges were dropped. But it seems that Captain John Clifford Pemberton's career was saved only when slavery split the nation. John's parents pleaded with him to stay in the union. His older and younger brother both put on Union Blue. But Martha was drawn home to Virginia, and John followed her. Delaying his announcement until she and the children had reached Norfolk, John Clifford Pemberton then resigned his commission, and enlisted as a colonel in the Confederate Army.

Because of his father-in-law's prominence, in June of 1861 Confederate President Jefferson Davis made the Colonel a General, and put him in command of a brigade at Norfolk (above). His ruthless discipline produced immediate complaints, which did not stop until January of 1862 when he was promoted to Major General and assigned to defend Charleston, South Carolina.  Which got him out of Norfolk. 

Upon examining his new fiefdom, John dared to point out that Fort Sumter (above), the raison d'etre for the entire war, was obsolete and not worth repairing. The political outrage this produced was so fierce, that Pemberton's boss, General Robert Edward Lee, reprimanded him. Still, when Lee was transferred to Virginia, John was given command of all of South Carolina and Georgia.  He was failing his way up the promotion lists.

This latest promotion didn't work, either. John offended too many people, too often. The complaints poured in. Eventually President Davis came up with what he thought was the perfect solution to his touchy, irritable argumentative northern southern officer. He promoted John again and put him in charge of defending Vicksburg. And that is why, after having failed at every job given him, John C. Pemberton rose from Colonel to Lieutenant General in 18 short months, without ever winning a battle or even hearing a shot fired in anger.

John's new command consisted of 54,000 men, but they were spread all across the state of Mississippi, as well as parts of Louisiana. There were now, in late March 1863, 3 divisions - 21,000 men - on his left flank, at Vicksburg. There were about 19,000 men to defend his center, stretching from the state capital of Jackson,  west along the delta rivers of the Tallahatchie and the Yazoo.  There was also a token force of 1,400 men on the Alabama border at Columbus. And finally, protecting his vulnerable underbelly to the south were the 12,500 men digging in at Port Hudson, Louisiana. Importantly, Pemberton's headquarters were in the state capital of Jackson, Mississippi , not at Vicksburg. John did not look at the Mississippi River every morning, judging its level, as Grant now did.

As a staff officer, John had solid rationalizations for remaining where he was. Jackson was centrally located. It had more secure road, rail and telegraph communications with the national capital in Richmond, Virginia.  And when John and his staff first arrived, in October 1862, Grant's first advance into Mississippi was aimed ultimately at Jackson. But after Major General Earl van Dorn's December victory at Holly Springs, and the unwelcome appearance of General McClernand on the Mississippi, Grant was forced to shift his attack to the west. However Pemberton remained in Jackson.

Even after the attack at Chickashaw Bluffs. Even after the Desoto Canal. Even after the Lake Providence canal. Even after the Yazoo Pass was breached. Even after the battle of Fort Pemberton. Even after the threat of Steele's Bayou. Even after the Duckport Canal, which I have yet to recount. From October, November and December 1862 though January, February, March and April of 1863, Lieutenant General John C. Pemberton remained rooted in Jackson, mentally and physically, while the vital high ground, the the raison d'etre for his entire command, Vicksburg, was being wedged out of his control.

As proof, in mid April of 1863,  when several Federal gunboats and transports ran past the guns at Vicksburg,  John Pemberton, took far too long to realize the event had changed everything about the coming battle.

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GETTYSBURG Chapter Six

I think the smartest thing Daniel Tyler did that June – and he did a lot of very smart things the last 2 weeks of that month - was to not assert his authority on arriving in Martinsburg, Virginia. He was a Brigadier General and under orders to take command of the town 30 miles north of Winchester.

But when he stepped off the Baltimore and Ohio train from Harpers Ferry at 8:00 that Sunday morning, 14 June, 1863, the 62 year old Tyler found Colonel B.F. Smith just leading the 1,200 man Martinsburg garrison out to face a rebel threat. Rather than create confusion on the eve of battle, Tyler sized up Smith in a glance, judged him competent, wished him good luck, offered to supply advice if asked, and concentrated on evacuating a final train load of supplies out of town.

An hour later a rider appeared in front of the Federal lines with a note from soulful rebel Brigadier General Albert “Grumble” Jenkins (above), addressed to the “Commanding Officer U.S. Forces near Martinsburg”. The note demanded the immediate surrender of the town or threatened its destruction. The post script added: “An immediate reply is necessary.” 

Technically, the Federal Commander at Martinsburg (above) was Tyler. But the Mexican War veteran never hinted, then or later, that he should have answered. Colonel Smith did - after delaying for an hour to buy time. Smith's reply told Jenkins, “ You may commence shelling as soon as you choose.”

It was now closing in on 11:00 a.m., and the old man who had spent a sleepless night on an express train out of Baltimore, still found the energy to supervise the loading of ammunition and food, and dispatching it to safety, while at the same time laying out a line of retreat for Smith and his soldiers. It is a testament to Tyler's cool competence that he marched into Harper's Ferry (above)  the next morning, Monday, 15 June at the head of all Colonel Smith's men. Tyler's reward for this display of cool professionalism was to be saddled with defending yet another place the legendary “Stonewall” Jackson himself considered indefensible.

Since 1761, when Robert Harper began operating his ferry where the Potomac River cut through the quartzite crests of the once towering Appalachian mountains, at its junction with the Shenandoah River had been a magnet for power hungry people. 

Between 1801 when it opened, and 1861, when retreating federals burned most of it, the “U.S. Musket Factory” at Harpers Ferry built half a million weapons. But even after the factory's destruction and looting in 1861, the site lost very little of its strategic importance. If you wanted to enter the fertile Shenandoah Valley from the north, you had to start at Harpers Ferry. And the fastest way to get there was on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.

At the start of the Civil War the B & O ran 380 miles of iron rails, beginning in Baltimore and running first to Fredrick, Maryland, where it touched the north shore of the Potomac River. Turning west for 12 miles the railroad squeezed around the base of the 300 foot tall Maryland Heights, before crossing to the southern shore at Harpers Ferry. 

The line then wound west through 11 tunnels and over 113 bridges to Piedmont and Grafton, Virginia before reaching the Ohio River at Wheeling, Virginia.  Branch lines drew in the produce from the rich farms of the Shenandoah Valley, and coal from the mines of western Virginia and Pennsylvania – 1/3 of the railroad's profits in 1861 came from transporting coal to northern factories. And even though northern military commanders were slow to realize the advantages of the B&O for moving troops, their political masters were always sensitive to threats to corporate property.

However, the Rebels occupying Harpers Ferry found Federal artillery glowering down from Maryland Heights (above, red arrow), which forced them to evacuate the town within months of it's capture. But they captured it again during Lee's 1862 invasion of Maryland. They returned it after the failure at Antietam, but many assumed the rebels would be back this year, 1863. And after General Milroy's disastrous stand at Winchester, the new commander of Harper's Ferry, General Taylor, lacked the manpower to even be certain of holding the Heights.

Daniel Tyler (above) knew Harpers Ferry well. After graduating from West Point in 1819, the Connecticut native had specialized in ordinance, and in 1832 he was made "Superintendent of the Inspectors of Contract Arms." The next year he rejected every musket offered by private industry. His integrity so angered the industrialists that the following year, when Tyler was recommended for promotion to Chief of Ordinance, President Andrew Jackson appointed a business friendly southerner instead. In his letter of resignation, Tyler complained, “I have lost all ambition to be connected with the service where... the fact that a man was not born in the South was a bar to promotion."

But Daniel Tyler's brains and patriotism were never in doubt. As a civil engineer, he got rich saving 3 failing railroads from bankruptcy, the last being the Macon and Western, which paid 8% dividends under his direction. In 1849, when asked to explain why he unexpectedly resigned, he told the board of directors, “Gentlemen...You are educating your young men to hate the Union and despise the North, and the result will be a conflict within ten years, and in that event I mean to be with my family north of Mason and Dixon Line.” And he was, growing richer over the decade serving on 4 more northern railroads before the outbreak of war in December of 1860.

General Tyler (above) served with distinction at Bull Run, but a year of service during 1862  outside Cornith, Mississippi, under the indecisive and untrustworthy General Henry Halleck broke his health and spirit. But the old man came back in the spring of 1863 when he was dispatched to rescue the disaster in the Shenandoah Valley.  At 7:00 p.m. on the Monday he took command at Harpers Ferry, Tyler telegraphed that the remnants of General Milroy's mismanagement had arrived. “I am sending everybody over to Maryland Heights... Our effective force here...is not over 4,000 men.”

His cool head at Harpers Ferry soon showed it's value. At midday, Tuesday, 16 June, Tyler told his boss in Baltimore, Major General Robert Shenck, “...rebel cavalry this side of Halltown (3 miles to the south west), (are) endeavoring to flank our pickets.” But by 9:40 that night he could reassure his superior, “We have not been attacked at Harpers Ferry. We have been threatened from the direction of Charlestown (6 miles to the southwest), but no rebel columns have advanced nearer...” Then, at 6:00 p.m. on Wednesday, 17 June, General Tyler was forced to telegraph his boss, “I am requested by Major General Hooker to (send) our infantry...(to) Noland and Haulings Fords. This is out of my command. Will you attend to it?”

It was a simple matter of chain of command. Brigadier General Daniel Tyler at Harper's Ferry, reported to Major General Robert Shenck (above) who commanded the VIII Corps headquartered 70 miles away in Baltimore. Tyler's logistics – his supplies, his reinforcements and his orders - all came from Baltimore. 

And from Baltimore, Major General Shenck reported to now General-of-the-Army Henry Halleck (above) in Washington, D.C..

Major General "Fighting Joe" Hooker (above) commanded the Army of the Potomac, which usually operated south of Washington, D.C.  But as the mercurial Hooker belatedly followed the Army of Northern Virginia north of the Potomac river, he was a lot closer to Harpers Ferry than Shenck was in Baltimore. And the increasingly panicky Hooker seemed determined not to understand he had no authority to issue orders to General Tyler. 

Nor did the commander of 80,000 Federal infantry, artillery and cavalry (above) seem willing to understand why Tyler's 4,000 men could not simply abandon Maryland Heights, to provide screening troops to benefit Hooker.  Fighting Joe's  inability to order about Tyler's paltry command became an obsession, to the point that the Major General Hooker went a little nuts – never a good thing in a field commander.

I am tempted here to remind you once again of what General Omar Bradly said – so I will. “Amateurs study strategy. Professionals study logistics.”

- 30 -