Grant Comes East - Civil War 02

by Newt Gingrich; William Forstchen

  "It rests with the men of the army, sir. Always it rests with them," Lee said forcefully. "It is their blood that will buy us liberty."

  "I know," Judah said sadly. "But the blood of how many men? We know it cannot go on much longer. We have only so much of that blood to give. There isn't a home in the South that has not paid for this damnable war. And we are running out of that blood.

  "Samuel was right. Even as we bleed, and prepare to bleed again, Lincoln holds fast. I fear sir, he has indeed seized the moral high ground from us. He has shifted the reasons for this war far beyond what many of us believe started it. Samuel proposes a way to put an end to it, and, perhaps, as well to end the division of the races in our homeland. I would like to think that if the black man were given his chance, in defense of the South, it would change forever how we see each other. Perhaps it would give us a chance to rebuild a nation together. And in so doing, give to you two, maybe three, more corps of men for the battles yet to be fought."

  "It is not my decision, sir," Lee replied sharply, a touch of anger in his voice. "It is the president's and yours, not mine."

  "I know, General Lee. But I must say this. Perhaps, someday, the burden will be yours. That is why I asked you to join us tonight to hear what someone who is astute has to say, and also what I have dwelled upon since this conflict started."

  "Sir? You have felt this all along?" "Just that, General Lee, but I think I've said enough for one night"

  The two rode on in silence, disappearing into the night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harrisburg, Pennsylvania Headquarters Army of the Susquehanna

  August 3,1863 10:30 A.M

  Grant looked around at the gathering in his oversized command tent. A photographer from Brady's had just finished-taking several images of them outside, and now from a distance was doing a fourth and final shot of them gathered in the open-sided tent. The group remained still until it was done and the photographer ran off to his black wagon to develop the plate as an assistant picked up the heavy camera and lugged it away.

  The day was warm, another heat wave setting in, and his officers were grateful to get their jackets off, sitting about the long oak table in shirtsleeves and vests.

  Maj. Gen. Edward Ord, who had arrived only yesterday with the last of the men from his Thirteenth Corps, was relaxed, sipping from a tall glass of iced lemonade. Beside him was McPherson, commander of the Fifteenth Corps, the first unit from the West to arrive in Harrisburg. Burnside, who had reassumed command of his old Ninth Corps, which had served in part of the Vicksburg campaign, sat quietly to one comer. He had arrived ahead of his two small divisions, which were still crossing Indiana and Ohio. Couch, commander of the twenty thousand militia and short-term regiments that had gathered in Harrisburg at the start of the Gettysburg campaign, was fanning himself with an oversized, wide-brimmed hat Several divisional commanders and the usual staff were gathered as well, while in the far comer sat Ely Parker, Grant's adjutant, taking notes. Beside him sat Elihu Washburne, who had arrived from Washington only within the last hour.

  "It's time we started laying out our plans," Grant announced, "and I want to know our state of readiness."

  "My men are ready any time you give the word, sir," McPherson said confidently. "But it is a question of supplies, remounts, support equipment."

  The other generals nodded in agreement.

  Grant looked over at Haupt. The general was actually dozing and Ord, smiling, nudged him awake.

  "Sorry, sir."

  Grant smiled indulgently. Haupt was working himself into a state of collapse. He had lost weight, his features pale, the dysentery draining him of all energy.

  "Are you ready to report, sir?" Grant asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  Haupt stood, leaning against the table for support, and pointed to the map of the entire eastern United States, which was spread on the table.

  "We've moved over forty thousand men east in the last three weeks and I must say that it is a unique accomplishment in the history of warfare. It has of course created certain problems, which my staff did anticipate but could do nothing about during the movement of forces, and now it will take some time to straighten out."

  "What problems?" Burnside asked.

  "Locomotives and rolling stock. We commandeered over two hundred locomotives from different lines and over two thousand flatcars and boxcars. Repositioning them back into useful service after their express run east is taking time. I could not ship them back while the entire road, involving several different lines, was cleared for eastbound traffic. Therefore these last two weeks have created some depletion o'f available trains in the West. Once the last of Burnside's men are in, we need to take a breather, to reposition that rolling stock back to their owners, who are screaming bloody murder."

  "Can't they wait?" Ord asked. "We still need to bring more men in, tens of thousands more."

  "Yes and no, sir. We will continue to bring in troops. I'm preparing for the next big trans-shipment of Nineteenth Corps from Philadelphia as they arrive by sea from New Orleans, but in order to keep other activities moving, including industrial and even commercial movement, we have to slow the pace slightly."

  He paused, looking over at Grant, who nodded his approval.

  "Go ahead, General. I'm in agreement. Our presence here, at this moment, has at least alleviated any defensive concerns; in that capacity we are fully ready to fight. It was beyond my hope that General Lee might actually attempt to sally forth from Baltimore and try to strike us here. We knew that wouldn't happen, but our friends over in the state capitol building are now relieved. We are not yet however, an offensive army."

  Ord grinned, chewing meditatively on a wad of tobacco, leaned over, and spat on the ground.

  'Tell that to my boys; they're eager to get at it, sir."

  McPherson grinned and nodded in agreement

  "Our little skirmish a couple of days ago got their blood up, sir; I kind of agree with Ord. Perhaps a demonstration down towards Carlisle?"

  Grant shook his head.

  "General McPherson, your men did admirably driving back Stuart's pickets. One brigade across the river, to deny them the ability to see us, is sufficient for now. We move when ready, and not before."

  "I concur," Haupt said, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.

  "The big problem of logistics now is horses. As General Grant said, we are a defensive army at the moment; we can fight in place, but to move? Not yet, I am sorry to say."

  "How soon?" Ord pressed.

  "Sir, we need over twelve thousand more horses and at least six thousand mules for our supply trains, and we don't even have the wagons yet for the mules to be hitched to.

  "Moving men is simple in comparison. Pile a regiment on a train, get patriotic civilians to pass up hampers of food at every stop, have wood and water in place for the locomotive, and you can go clear from Wisconsin to Maine in a week if you wish. Horses are a hell of a lot more difficult.

  "At best we can maybe load a hundred horses to a train, but that is pressing it, a hell of a lot of weight for the steeper grades. They have to be unloaded every day, exercised, fed, watered. We can't go too fast A bad bump or shift, and you have a trainload of horses with broken legs. A trip of three days to move five hundred men will equal a week or more with five trains with incredible amounts of fodder placed along the way. Then, once here, sir, ten thousand horses means four hundred thousand pounds of fodder a day. Granted, we can pasture a lot of them in nearby farms, but they'll eat that out in a couple of weeks."

  He shook his head wearily.

  "How many of our own horses from Vicksburg will come up?" Ord asked. "A lot of my men in the cavalry and artillery are upset about losing their old mounts and trace horses, which are trained to their tasks."

  "I'm having near five thousand moved by steamers up to Wheeling. From there they'll be loaded on trains. That cuts six hundred miles off the train run, but it's a lot slower and
the Ohio is still in flood from all the rains, so it's even slower than expected. The first trainload should be coming in next week."

  "And the others?" Grant asked.

  "I'm ordering in trainloads of remounts from as far as Maine. It's a little complex, since the actual purchasing of horses is not in my department, only the transporting of them. I can have a procurement officer in Vermont tell me that he has a hundred mules, the train gets there, and half of the poor beasts are on their last legs, shipping them here a waste. The system is riddled with corruption, paybacks, purchasing of animals just about ready to drop; it's a nightmare."

  Grant tossed down the butt of his cigar after using it to puff a new one to life. "When?"

  "I think by the end of the month, sir." Grant exhaled noisily.

  "I'd prefer sooner. That gives me only four to six weeks of campaigning weather before the onset of autumn."

  "I know that, sir, I'm moving hard on it."

  ‘I know you are, Haupt. What else?"

  "Sir, with the delay we'll need to start shipping in fodder as well for the horses already here, not much at first but it will quickly increase to ten to fifteen trainloads a day. Three to four times that amount if we are stuck into late fall. Purchasing agents are combing upstate New York for fodder, which is our best route for bringing it down to here."

  "We won't be here by late fall," Grant snapped and then nodded for Herman to continue with his list.

  "We need fifteen hundred wagons for supplies. Again that has to go through a different department than mine. I can cram twenty-five of them onto a train. We have orders in to factories and suppliers across the country. I think we can make good on those in short order. Fortunately there's a lot of wagon-makers right here in Pennsylvania and we're offering a premium for quick delivery. There's a purchasing agent in Reading buying them up now. He's efficient, and as fast as a trainload of them is assembled, they're shipped here. We also need three hundred more springed ambulances, twenty more forge wagons for the artillery batteries, roughly a hundred wagons for headquarters baggage, and, most important, two hundred heavy wagons for the pontoon trains."

  "Why so many?" McPherson asked. "We never had that many down in Mississippi."

  "I want two pontoon bridges across this river when we move," Grant interjected, "and I want enough bridging material together to throw two more bridges, across the Potomac. If the campaign then presses into Virginia, we will need additional bridging for half a dozen rivers from the Potomac down to Richmond."

  "You plan to go that far this fall?" McPherson asked, surprise in his voice.

  Grant looked up at him and shook his head.

  "I'm not ready to discuss that yet, and let me remind all of you here that what is said in this tent stays here. I misspoke to even mention the bridging requirements."

  Haupt, who by the simple process of planning the transportation of supplies already had a good sense of what Grant was indeed planning, lowered his gaze for a moment He knew men like Ord, McPherson, and Burnside were burning with curiosity about the forthcoming campaign, and though he could surmise what was to come, he would never breathe a word or give something away. Haupt knew Grant would reveal his plans in his own good time, and he was not about to risk Grant's wrath by hinting at anything.

  There was some grumbling, but all three of the corps commanders knew the issue was closed.

  "The army has orders in for the necessary pontoon boats with shipbuilders on the Hudson and along Lake Erie. Filling the order is relatively easy, but they are big, cumbersome affairs and only ten will fit on a train. I should have them down here though, at least enough for two bridges within three weeks."

  "Good work, Haupt," Grant said. "Anything else?"

  "Yes, sir. Railroading equipment."

  "Railroading equipment?" Burnside asked, a bit surprised. "For what railroad?"

  Haupt looked over at Grant, who nodded his approval.

  "The Cumberland Valley Railroad ran from here clear down to Hagerstown," Haupt said.

  "That's gone now," McPherson replied. "I understand the rebs are tearing up the rails, hauling them south to repair their own lines."

  "If, gentlemen, and I have to emphasize the word 'if,'" Haupt continued, "our primary axis of advance is down the Cumberland, I propose to repair the line as rapidly as possible. The rebs cannot destroy the grading. As for every bridge on the line, fortunately the management of that line has records stored here in Harrisburg, so we have the specifications, and I'm ordering replacement bridges to be precut and ready to be loaded for the entire length of the line. I believe that if we advance down the Cumberland Valley, within two weeks we can have the entire line up and running again as long as I have the necessary manpower of trained personnel."

  "You'll have them," Grant said sharply. "We must have a couple of thousand men in our ranks who've worked the rails before the war; we can temporarily detach them."

  "That's a lot of manpower," Burnside interjected.

  "Well spent," Haupt replied. "Twenty trains a day on that line could sustain the army while it advanced, cutting down drastically on our need for wagons and mules. I'm stockpiling over a hundred miles of track, twenty thousand ties, material for water tanks and switching. The Cumberland line managed to get five of its locomotives back here before the bridge was burned, and we'll get additional rolling stock and locomotives from the Pennsylvania and the Reading. The bridge a dozen miles above Marysville is still intact to the west shore, thank God, so we can run supplies directly down to you once the campaign starts.

  "If, and again I'm only saying if, the campaign takes us down to the Potomac, once into Harper's Ferry, your new supply line can run out of the west from the Baltimore and Ohio. I'm stockpiling replacement bridges for that line as well. I only wish I had enough men and material. I think I could throw a connecting line from Hagerstown across down to the B&O in less than a month if I had five thousand men."

  "We'll see," Grant said with a smile.

  This man was the type of soldier he liked, and he was amazed that Haupt's skills were never fully appreciated here in the East. Haupt had only confessed to him the day before that he had been seriously contemplating retiring from the army, fed up with its bureaucracy and backstabbing. Fortunately Grant had been able to convince him to stay on to the end of the campaign, promoted him to major general, and given him complete control of all military operations on all railroads in the country.

  And Haupt was indeed right. If the campaign did take them to the Potomac and beyond, it would be worth the effort to run a railroad track from Hagerstown the twenty miles to a hookup with the Baltimore and Ohio. Such an accomplishment would give him a link from Harrisburg to Harper's Ferry, and from there clear down to the Shenandoah Valley, linking as well back to the Midwest. It was the type of project undreamed of five years ago, to run a line twenty miles in one month, solely for the purpose of supporting an army in the field. Today, if need be, it could be done, and if he gave the order, it would be done. "Other supplies?" Grant asked.

  Haupt stood silent for a moment and seemed to sway. Grant looked over nervously at Elihu Washburne, who sat quietly, unobtrusively, in the corner of the tent. Elihu and Haupt had formed quite a bond over the last month. The way Haupt had stood up to Stanton had won his admiration, along with the wonders he had created in terms of bringing this army together.

  Elihu shook his head.

  "Perhaps later, General Haupt."

  "No, sir. Just a minute more, and then, yes, I think you will have to excuse me."

  Haupt took a deep breath, sweat glistening on his face.

  "Ammunition. Enough stockpiled now for a strong defensive action but sustainable for only two days at most. Just over one hundred rounds per man in the ranks, two caissons of assorted solid shot, shell, and canister for the field pieces. The "suppliers in New York and Massachusetts are working twenty-four hours a day, and we should be up to the levels you will need in four weeks as well.

  "Artillery. Yo
u have a hundred and ten pieces with you now, a mix of Napoleons, three-inch ordnance rifles, and Parrotts, two batteries of twenty-pounders, and one battery of thirty-pounders. Again, you should have a hundred more guns in a month."

  "Billy Sherman is up to his ears in guns," Ord interjected. "He must have three hundred pieces with him between the guns we left behind and the ordnance captured at Vicksburg."

  'Too difficult to ship now. I'd rather use the shipping for horses and get the guns from New York," Haupt replied.

  "What about all that artillery still down in Mississippi?" Ord asked. "Surely Sherman can't use all of it?"

  "I told him, if it's a burden, put what he can on boats to haul north and dump the rest in the Mississippi," Grant replied coolly.

  No one spoke. Such a profligate waste of material, perfectly good field guns, shocked none of them anymore. If the guns were dumped, others could be made.

  "Rations?" Grant asked.

  "That's going ahead of schedule; it's convenient that we are near Philadelphia and New York. Hardtack is almost up to the level to support us for a month in the field, the same with salted pork, coffee, sugar, tobacco, tea. Farmers from as far away as Berks County to the east are driving in herds of cattle and swine; we'll have a good supply of food on the hoof. Medical supplies as well are more than sufficient."

  He hesitated for a moment and again seemed to sway.

  "I talked with the head of your medical corps this morning. Hospitals sufficient for twenty thousand casualties will be constructed here in Harrisburg. Mostly open-sided sheds and tents to start; bedding is being shipped in; volunteer nurses are being recruited through that Miss Barton that everyone is talking about."

  Twenty thousand casualties. No one spoke. Though they were hardened by the campaign for Vicksburg and even Shiloh, the sheer magnitude of so many wounded and sick was still daunting, but after Union Mills, the larger number had to be anticipated.

  "Another reason I want the railroad repaired," Grant interjected. "We had hospital boats for our wounded at Vicksburg. Hauling wounded men back on a hundred miles of dirt road would be a nightmare."