Grant Moves South

by Bruce Catton

  He outlined his plans in detail, and then took a final side-swipe at the newspapers:

  I will use troops that I know will trust us and not be humbugged by a repulse. The men have sense, and will trust us. As to the reports in newspapers, we must scorn them, else they will ruin us and our country. They are as much enemies to good government as the secesh, and between the two I like the secesh best, because they are a brave, open enemy and not a set of sneaking, croaking scoundrels.18

  Sherman’s troops put on a good show. Light gunboats and transports went puffing up the Yazoo, troops were landed and put to maneuvering as if unlimited numbers were about to make a frontal attack on the bluffs, and the Confederate commander there called for reinforcements. Troops that were to move south to meet Grant were delayed, there was a deal of frenzied countermarching and preparation—and far down the river Porter’s ironclads steamed in and opened a five-hour bombardment of the Grand Gulf batteries, while the transports waited on the western shore to bring the troops across.

  The Grand Gulf batteries were tough: with powerful guns well emplaced forty feet above the water, served by good gunners; they could not be beaten down, and it became clear that troops could not land in front of them to take the bluffs by storm. At the end of April 29 the fleet drew away, somewhat battered, and it was time to make another revision in the plan.

  Grant made it promptly. He would put his army across the river below Grand Gulf, move inland, and then march north, cutting off Grand Gulf and taking it from its unprotected rear. His maps were inadequate, and no one in the army knew much about the country east of the river. It was known, however, that an army approaching Grand Gulf from the east or south would have to cross a stream known as Bayou Pierre, which came in from the east, and this stream could best be crossed, apparently, at or near the town of Port Gibson, which was ten miles southeast of Grand Gulf. The immediate objective thus seemed to be Port Gibson, but simply to land troops on the eastern bank of the Mississippi and send them floundering off through the trackless bottom lands was to invite disaster. To get to Port Gibson a guide was needed.

  After dark a detachment of Illinois soldiers rowed across the river, scouted about among the farms, and at last seized a Negro slave who had lived in that vicinity all of his life, knew how the roads went, and seemed to be a cut or two above the illiterate, Bress-de-Lawd plantation hand of tradition. He did not especially want to be carried off by the Union soldiers but he was overpowered and put in a rowboat, and after a time the men brought him to Grant’s tent. Grant satisfied himself that the Negro was familiar with the country back of Grand Gulf, explained briefly where he wanted to go, and then led him to a table where there was a map.

  “Look here,” said Grant. “Tell me where this road leads to—starting where you see my finger here on the map and running down that way.”

  “Dat road fetches up at Bayou Pierre, but you can’t go that way, ’kase it’s plum full of backwater.”

  Grant put it up to him.

  “Which road would you take if you were going to lead me, followed by a great army and trains of loaded wagons and artillery—which road would you take to reach Bayou Pierre?”

  “Dar is only one way, General, and dat is by Bruinsburg, eight miles furder down. Dar you can leave de boats and the men can walk on high ground all the way. De best houses and plantations in all de country are dar, sah, all along dat road.”19

  Promptly on the morning of April 30 the transports went puffing out into the river, drifting downstream and coming in to the eastern shore at Bruinsburg, ten miles below Grand Gulf. The troops took to the road for Port Gibson—all of McClernand’s corps, and a division of McPherson’s—and many years afterward Grant told how the crossing struck him at the time:

  When this was effected I felt a degree of relief scarcely ever equalled since.… I was now in the enemy’s country, with a vast river and the stronghold of Vicksburg between me and my base of supplies. But I was on dry ground on the same side of the river with the enemy. All the campaigns, labors, hardships and exposures from the month of December previous to this time that had been made and endured were for the accomplishment of this one object.20

  In the course of the war Grant wrote a number of memorable sentences: “My only terms are immediate and unconditional surrender”; “I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer”—and so on. But he never wrote anything that expressed the essential nature of the born soldier, the relentless and unpretentious army-killer, better than that simple expression of his release from tension—“I was on dry ground on the same side of the river with the enemy.” Everything remained to be done, the desperate battles were still ahead, the key decision itself had not yet been made, but that mattered little: at last Grant had got to a place where he could fight. From that moment he could stop worrying.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Hardtack! Hardtack!”

  Grant had twenty-three thousand troops east of the river, and for the moment the Confederate command was confused. The long weeks that had been wasted on the Yazoo Pass and Steele’s Bayou expeditions had had one valuable result—they had led the defenders to believe that the big attack on Vicksburg would come from above. When Grant crossed below Grand Gulf, Pemberton was in Jackson, Mississippi’s capital, forty-five miles east of Vicksburg, and Pemberton ordered the Vicksburg people to hurry reinforcements down to Port Gibson, where Brigadier General J. S. Bowen had 6000 men ready to resist this Federal thrust. But the Confederate commander at Vicksburg felt that the Yankees could not possibly be intending a real offensive so far downstream: this must be a feint, and if the Vicksburg garrison went off to help Bowen the main attack would probably be made at Snyder’s Bluff.1 For a short time Grant had the advantage—the bulge, as tough Bedford Forrest used to say—and the whole campaign would depend on the way he used it.

  No time would be lost. As fast as the troops could be put ashore they set off on the road for Port Gibson, tramping through the evening and the night, and before dawn on May 1 McClernand’s advance ran into Bowen’s outposts a few miles west of the town. There was a good deal of ineffective skirmishing in the darkness, and in the morning as soon as there was light enough for fighting the battle lines formed and began shooting.

  It was a bad place for a fight. As Grant put it, “the country in this part of Mississippi stands on edge.” The roads ran mostly along the ridges, and between the ridges there were ravines clogged with woods, vines and canebrakes. McClernand’s troops went into action along two roads and it was hard to co-ordinate their movements; Grant was not satisfied with the way McClernand handled the operation and rode forward to expedite matters. One soldier remembered seeing him, mounted, looking very careworn and covered with dust; another recalled that as his outfit went into action it was Grant himself who prodded the soldiers forward with repeated orders to “push right along—close up fast.” Logan’s division from McPherson’s corps was brought to the front, and the heavy Union superiority in numbers began to have its effect. The Confederates put up a stout fight, and Grant confessed that Bowen handled them capably; but, as Grant proudly wrote to Halleck, “My force, however, was too heavy for him, and composed of well-disciplined and hardy men who know no defeat and are not willing to learn what it is.” By nightfall Bowen was compelled to draw off to the north in full retreat. Grant ordered McClernand to push the enemy “until it gets too dark to see him,” and told’ him to renew the advance at earliest dawn.2

  Promptly next morning the Federals hurried in pursuit. Port Gibson was empty, and the bridges across Bayou Pierre and the Little Bayou Pierre had been destroyed. The bridge-building details went to work, the damage was made good, and the army pushed on eight miles to the north fork of the little river, where another bridge had been burned. All night long the repair gangs worked, and by dawn of May 3 McPherson’s advance crossed the river, scattered a Confederate rear guard, and moved on to a place known as Willow Springs. Four or five miles due north of this hamlet, the r
oad to Vicksburg crossed the Big Black River; running off northeast at an angle was the road to Jackson, where the Confederates were reputed to be gathering reinforcements. McPherson arranged one division to hold the road to the Big Black, McClernand brought his corps up in close support, and Grant himself went hurrying over to Grand Gulf, with twenty cavalrymen for escort. Here he sent a jubilant message to Halleck:

  This army is in the finest health and spirits. Since leaving Milliken’s Bend they have marched as much by night as by day, through mud and rain, without tents or much other baggage, and on irregular rations, without a complaint, and with less straggling than I have ever before witnessed. [He added that he would not bother to bring his army to Grand Gulf; instead he would immediately follow the enemy, and] if all promises as favorable hereafter as it does now, not stop until Vicksburg is in our possession.3

  Pemberton himself was beginning to suspect that he was in trouble. He had hurried from Jackson to Vicksburg, and he quickly realized that Grant was not feinting. While Bowen was making his fight at Port Gibson, Pemberton wired Jefferson Davis that “enemy’s movement threatens Jackson and if successful cuts off Vicksburg and Port Hudson from the east.” He called for reinforcements, pointing out that “enemy’s success in passing our batteries has completely changed character of defense.” On the following day he warned the governor of Mississippi to move the state archives away from Jackson, and on May 3 he notified Davis that he would concentrate his own forces behind the Big Black River. Here he would interpose between Grant and Vicksburg, and if Grant did move on Jackson Pemberton would potentially be on his flank and rear.4

  Grant found plenty to do. He began by going aboard the flagship at Grand Gulf for a bath and a change of clothing—he had not had his clothing off for a week, and his entire baggage kit thus far had consisted of a toothbrush—and then he started to call on the rear echelons for more speed. Before he crossed the river he had told Sherman to bring two divisions down, overland, as fast as he could, and he had ordered the quartermaster at Milliken’s Bend to send down two towboats and barges full of rations and forage. Every order stressed the importance of speed; the quartermaster was to man the supply boats with volunteers from the army if the civilian crews refused to serve, and he was instructed: “Do this with all expedition, in 48 hours from receipt of orders if possible. Time is of immense importance.” On May 3, at Grand Gulf, Grant notified the Commanding Officer at Milliken’s Bend to get working parties busy on the roadway down to New Carthage—“Everything depends upon the promptitude with which our supplies are forwarded.” On the same day Sherman was told to send down one hundred and twenty wagons with rations; Sherman’s men were to draw five days’ rations, and Grant warned: “See that they last five days,” underlining it with the remark: “It is unnecessary for me to remind you of the overwhelming importance of celerity in your movements,” and he explained in a few brief sentences:

  The enemy is badly beaten, greatly demoralized, and exhausted of ammunition. The road to Vicksburg is open. All we want now are men, ammunition and hard bread. We can subsist our horses on the country and obtain considerable supplies for our troops.5

  The final sentence was the key to what followed. All winter, Grant had reflected on the abundance of food that was to be found in Mississippi; now, operating at the end of a difficult and insecure supply line, he was preparing to act on the knowledge he had gained following Van Dorn’s capture of his base at Holly Springs in December. He would not limit himself by dependence on any base. As much hard bread, salt and coffee as could be moved would be brought down from Milliken’s Bend, and the State of Mississippi itself would be called on for whatever else was needed. Dana explained this in a wire to Secretary Stanton on May 4. Grant, he said, would move at once toward the Big Black River and toward Jackson: “As soon as Sherman comes up and the rations on the way arrive, he will disregard his base and depend on the country for meat and even for bread. Beef cattle and corn are both abundant everywhere.”6

  The attempt to float towboats and barges past the Vicksburg batteries came to grief; a towboat and barges were sunk by gunfire, and Grant sent back word: “We will risk no more actions to run the Vicksburg batteries.” Four newspaper correspondents had daringly boarded the towboat to make the trip downstream, and these men were captured by the Rebels. First reports said that the four had been drowned, and Sherman permitted himself a wicked chuckle. To Frank Blair he wrote that the reporters “were so deeply laden with weighty matter that they must have sunk,” and he added: “In our affliction we can console ourselves with the pious reflection that there are plenty more of the same sort.”

  Convinced that running unprotected transports past the batteries no longer paid, Grant rode his subordinates mercilessly to get as much material as possible brought down overland. To a supply officer whom he had made responsible for this operation, Grant wrote that “every day’s delay is worth two thousand men to the enemy,” and expressed his impatience in a series of staccato questions: “How many teams have been loaded with rations and sent forward? I want to know as near as possible how we stand in every particular for supplies. How many wagons have you ferried over the river? How many are still to bring over? What teams have gone back for rations?” To General Hurlbut, back in Memphis, Grant sent orders to make cavalry demonstrations so as to distract the Rebels’ attention, to get reinforcements down the river as fast as possible, and to lay in a sixty days’ surplus of rations and forage. Hurlbut loyally did his best; like Sherman, he found this daring campaign a bit frightening, and he sent Grant a brief warning: “I hope you will sweep out the rabble, especially as I learn that mischief-makers are looking after you, with hopes based upon your downfall.”7

  To the soldiers, Mississippi looked good, and the expedition began to seem exciting. A New York Times correspondent noted that the men were tough and brown, thoroughly acclimated by now to Southern weather, and he said that Port Gibson was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen; with some provincialism, he wrote that it had many houses “of a character equal to some of the finest villas on the Hudson,” and he grew positively lyrical about the beauty of Mississippi’s young women. He found them “plump, rosy, engaging and delicious,” with dark eyes radiating “starry splendor” and lips that seemed “a fit resting place for kisses.” The Deep South, he added, was not starving, no matter what Northern patriots liked to think; he had just dined at a plantation, eating roast turkey and duck, wheat bread, biscuits, ham and an abundance of vegetables. An officer wrote to his sister that the country looked prosperous as well as beautiful, and found many of the plantations “magnificent in the extreme.” Believing that most Northern boys had no enthusiasm for invasion, Mississippi girls grew deceptively friendly and passed around newspapers which urged the men to demand that their officers take them home. (The papers struck the men as just plain funny, and they read them with amused interest. When a worried staff officer told Grant that the circulation of these papers ought to be suppressed, Grant retorted that if necessary he would appoint a special news agent to make sure that every man in the army got his share.) One officer remarked that all ordinary Army red tape procedures connected with the issuance of rations had been discarded. The troops now were simply marched past long piles of bacon, open barrels of salt pork and boxes of hardtack, and from major general to private each man helped himself. The colonel of the 20th Ohio, impressed by the need for constant movement, had details seize mules from plantations and saw to it that soldiers too footsore to walk could have a ride.8

  Constant movement was the imperative. Deep in enemy country and a long way from its base, this army could do almost any imaginable thing but sit still. The very terms on which Grant had got it east of the river placed on him a necessity for rapid and unceasing movement—rapid if possible, unceasing at any cost whatever.9 This dictated what Grant would do during the crucial days just ahead.

  To the best of Grant’s knowledge, Pemberton had perhaps 25,000 maneuverable troops in and
around Vicksburg. There was a small detachment at Jackson, and all the intelligence Grant could get said that this would be strongly reinforced in the immediate future. At Port Hudson the Confederates had 10,000 men under Major General Frank Gardner, and Pemberton (as Grant soon learned) was ordering Gardner to bring most of his infantry north to help drive the Federals into the river.10 Grant had to smash these encircling foes before they could form a compact mass too strong for him to handle.

  But to do this he would have to abandon the plan which, in a somewhat unfinished form, had been in his mind ever since he started down the river—the plan by which he would join forces with Banks and reduce Port Hudson before attempting the main attack on Pemberton and Vicksburg.

  He had told both Banks and Halleck that his army would establish itself at Grand Gulf and then would send at least an army corps downstream to help Banks take Port Hudson. After that, he and Banks together could move on Vicksburg. This suited Halleck, who was insisting that the one great object in the West was to open the river, and who also felt that Banks and Grant should pool their resources in order to do it. It also suited Banks, who would get the top command (and, no doubt, the glory) out of any such venture; he was senior to Grant, and Washington definitely contemplated that he would be in charge of any combined operation in the valley.11 Yet Banks, as Grant learned at Grand Gulf, had somehow managed to go off on such a tangent that a combined operation in the immediate future was completely out of the question.

  Banks, as a matter of fact, had taken his army up the Red River, directly away from the Port Hudson-Vicksburg area; and when Grant entered Grand Gulf, Banks and his army were near Alexandria, Louisiana, one hundred miles away in a straight line, probably twice that far away as the rivers went. It appears that Banks feared that Confederate forces in northwestern Louisiana might slice down at New Orleans, which was his base, if he did not attend to them before he moved up the Mississippi. Whatever the reason, Banks had moved eccentrically up the Red River instead of up the Mississippi; and at the moment when Grant was prepared to join hands with him at Port Hudson, Banks was enmeshed in a campaign that was likely to keep him busy for some time to come. Grant got the news at this time in a letter Banks had written three weeks earlier—communication between the two armies was very roundabout—and found that the best Banks could promise was that he would have fifteen thousand men near Port Hudson by May 10. The letter was clearly out of date, and it seemed likely to Grant that the May 10 estimate was exceeedingly optimistic.12