Fire on the Mountain

A Tour of South Mountain's Crampton's Gap with Ranger John Hoptak

Historian John Hoptak describing troop movements in the Burkittsville, MD cemetery.

On the morning of March 19, I was amongst a group of thirty-eight Civil War scholars and aficionados who attended an in-depth tour of the Civil War’s South Mountain Battlefield conducted by Antietam National Battlefield Park Ranger John Hoptak. Meeting at the War Correspondents Memorial in Gathland State Park outside Burkittsville, Maryland, John opened the program with an overview of the Antietam Campaign and the ensuing carnage for the control of central Maryland. As Confederate General Robert E. Lee became aware that Union General George B. McClellan was in pursuit of his forces, he positioned a segment of his army in three defensively crucial passes in the South Mountain range: Crampton’s Gap, Fox’s Gap, and Turner’s Gap. Meanwhile, Lee attempted to reconnect the scattered portions of his command and, if necessary, prepare to abandon or revise his campaign in the face of possible defeat.

John gives an introduction to Crampton's Gap at the War Correspondents' Arch.

The major player in the fight for Crampton’s Gap was perhaps General William Franklin, commander of the Union’s 6^th Corps, an admirer of McClellan, and an accomplished architect who helped construct the then-uncompleted capitol dome in Washington. Franklin’s road to the Battle of South Mountain was repeatedly marked by delay and indecision. In a mission where his force was to move with the utmost speed to attack the enemy and reconnect with his own army, the general largely did the exact opposite. His force first halted for several hours in the town of Jefferson and rested there for over two hours. This delay contradicted McClellan’s orders for Franklin to connect with Darius Couch’s 4^th Corps, but not to wait for his arrival to push forward.

Later that morning, vedettes in Pennsylvania’s Rush Lancer’s scouted the rim of Burkittsville and reported their encounter with Colonel Thomas Munford’s 2^nd VA Cavalry to Colonel Henry Cake of the 96^th PA Infantry. With word of this, Cake ordered his men to sweep into the village of 200 inhabitants and push out Munford’s pickets. What ensued was one of the first instances of street combat in the Civil War. In the meantime, Franklin inched his way toward the outskirts of the town. There, on the property of the Martin Shafer House, where he and other officers of the 6^th Corps including Winfield Scott Hancock, Henry Slocum, and William “Baldy” Smith, prepared a lunch and smoked cigars. With his troops already engaged, Franklin failed to advance once again. Even after a courier rode in to inform Franklin only 1,500 Confederates held the gap, the commander continued his lunch.

Munford too realized he was numerically outmatched in this scrap for the gap. In wake of this, he urgently called upon the force of Lafayette McLaws for reinforcements to advance through Pleasant Valley. By this time, George McClellan was sending forth orders for Franklin to seize Burkittsville at all costs. But with the passing of each hour, McClellan’s hopes of fatally crushing Lee’s army quickly dissipated.

In the ensuing assaults on the towering heights, Henry Slocum’s first division bore the brunt of the devastation. After pushing out many of the Confederates seeking cover in the town, the 96^th PA moved around the village and continued their attack from Burkittsville’s small cemetery as Hancock looked on and prepared for an assault of his own brigade. Surprisingly, many of the townspeople refused to take shelters in their homes and stood on their porches defiantly, cheering on the Union troops. Robert Westbrook of the 49^th PA noted, “regardless of the shells which were crashing through their houses, welcomed us heartily, brining water to fill the canteens, Patriotic ladies cheered the Union boys and brought them food” (Hoptak, 147). The Federals hoped to mass their fire effectively and implement a battering ram mentality to dislodge the southern defenders. However, rebel troops were well protected and dispersed as far as eight feet apart along the length of their Mountain Church Road line. The large scheme of things, the Battle of Crampton’s Gap can be numerically summed up as five or six Confederate regiments against the entire Union 6^th Corps – overwhelming numbers indeed.

By approximately 5:25 p.m., the final Federal assaults over the Mountain Church Road commenced. At this point, Franklin believed all was lost, perhaps not realizing how under-strengthed and spread out his southern foes were. As the 96^th PA and 10^th GA engaged in a bloody slugfest, rarely seen hand-to-hand combat commenced as sharpshooters were flushed out of the Tritt House. Slocum’s assaults were sent in piecemeal for the most part. At the David Arnold Farm, the dismounted horsemen of the 2^nd VA Cavalry spread themselves out behind the refuge of a sturdy (and still standing) stonewall as Vermonters and New Jerseyans advanced up the hill and crashed into the right flank of Howell Cobb’s Georgia and North Carolina brigade. (Amongst them men of this brigade was Oliver Hardy of the 16^th GA, father of the future comedic film actor of the same name. He was wounded two days later at the Battle of Antietam.)

As the Union onslaught continued to push uphill, additional reinforcement under Cobb arrived on scene. Colonel Munford, realizing the desperateness of the situation, almost immediately turned command over to Cobb. Although the rotund Georgian attempted to rally his men, he was unable to fully stop the withdrawal. Seventy percent of his men became casualties that day.

Robert E. Lee, realizing the gravity of the situation, had originally intended to fall back to Virginia in response to the loss of South Mountain. However, he perhaps felt the disorganization within the large Army of the Potomac offered him another opportunity. His forces retreated to the small village of Sharpsburg, Maryland only a few miles away and awaited Federal attack. At that point, William Franklin was ordered to push through Pleasant Valley beyond South Mountain, remove the Confederates from Maryland Heights, and reconnect with the other Union corps – a daunting task. However, as Franklin at last reached the top of the mountain, he saw scores of retreating southerners in the valley below, making their way to Sharpsburg where, only two days later, the bloodiest battle in American History would occur. The fighting at Crampton’s Gap and the larger Battle of South Mountain was perhaps the first mountain combat in the Civil War and earned the Army of the Potomac a much needed military and psychological victory.

John Hoptak’s program was an ideal battlefield tour resulting from a balancing emphasis on strategy, geography, and compelling human drama. His ability to present the wide scope of battle made for an entertaining and enlightening perspective of this important battle and the people shaped by it. Luckily for we aficionados, John's book is as good as his tour!

Works Cited:

Hoptak, John David. The Battle of South Mountain. Charleston, SC: The History Press, 2011.

Now available through The History Press!

The Martin Shafer House was the headquarters of William Franklin. In the 150 years since the battle, the structure has become prey to vandals and other miscreants. Hopefully, the State of Maryland or the National Park Service may be able to someday save the structure and transform it into a visitor center.

The portion of the Shafer House directly to our front is an addition that was likely constructed in the 1920s. You can see an original segment of the structure in the right rear. You can see South Mountain in the far background.

A view of Crampton's Gap from the Shafer Farm property.

As John mentioned in the video, Civil War historian and collector Joe Stahl had in his possession this day a communique from Franklin to McClellan - dated and signed from the very yard we were standing in. Pretty cool, huh? (Click to enlarge and read.)

The outside of the letter to McClellan.

The David Arnold Farm (just on the outskirts of Burkittsville) is a beautiful and very substantial stone structure dating from 1793. Brook's Vermont Brigade as well as Torbert New Jerseyans reformed themselves near here before advancing across the open fields to the right of this photo's view.

Like the Federals in 1862, we assembled in the yard of the Arnold Farm before pushing on!

Captain John Hoptak courageously leads the column forward! The stonewall in the far distance was used as protection by dismounted cavalrymen of the 2nd Virginia. John stressed how exhausting of a march this would have been - a dozen miles since morning, fighting in the town, and then up this mountain!

Joe Stahl brought along more goodies to show us as well. These are identification discs (dog tags essentially) worn by Vermonters and New Jerseyans who marched across this field during the battle. Again, how cool?

Our caravan made a complete loop across the town and battlefield and returned to the site we started our morning. Here, the ever-entertaining Mannie Gentile (also an Antietam park ranger and cartographer for John's book) informed us of the colorful history of Gathland and the War Correspondents Memorial Arch. It was built by George Alfred Townsend in the 1880s. He was one of the youngest reporters of the war and eventually settled on top of South Mountain where he planned to build his luxurious mountain lodge compound. Despite this, he was disliked by locals because he charged a toll for a road they had been driving on for free for years. Due to financial woes, Townsend's mountain abode never came to be what he desired. He died in 1914, not even being able to be buried in the (still standing) mausoleum he had constructed on the mountaintop.

Special thanks to John, Mannie, and all the other experts who made it a memorable day!

What was Andrew Jackson Thinking?

Fathers and Children: Andrew Jackson and the Subjugation of the American Indian. By Michael Paul Rogin. (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1975. Pp. [xxii], 373, xii. $16.95.) ISBN: 0887388868
Book Review by Jared Frederick

Michael Paul Rogin’s study of the Jacksonian Era in Fathers and Children is a mixture of social, political, and psychoanalytic history that attempts to explain the reasoning for Andrew Jackson’s governmental mentalities in general and his seemingly vindictive policies against Native Americans in particular. Using Freudian analysis as a method to measure Old Hickory’s actions, the heart of Rogin’s message rests in the idea of Jackson as a tool and a symbol of American expansion and all the capitalistic opportunities entailed within. In this context, Rogin claims Jackson viewed himself as the replacement for the legacies of the deceased Founding Fathers. Here, the removal of the American Indian from his lands would prove to be Jackson’s presidential litmus test in the process of advancing his national agendas including the destruction of the National Bank.

In the years that American began to mature, national expansion became a centerpiece of politics and business. At the center of this topic was the issue of Indian removal. This endeavor was a major policy of the Andrew Jackson administration yet few historians, Rogin contends, have placed Indians at the center of Jackson’s life and have failed to see the Jacksonian Era as one of native genocide and subjugation. Entwined with this notion is the long-held perspective, also held toward blacks, that paternalistic approaches were implemented to coerce another race in order to attain white advancement. For some Americans, it was initially difficult to reconcile the destruction of Native Americans with that of the American self-image. However, paternalistic instincts eventually compensated for this seeming contradiction in the minds of many citizens. Jackson’s vice president Martin Van Buren echoed the sentiments of his president in stating that there “was perhaps in the beginning unjustifiable aggressors [against natives], but of whom, in the progress of time and events, we have become the[ir] guardians and . . . benefactors” (4). In this sense, Indians were viewed in a childlike manner. The family-centered structure of native life was one that Jackson himself was denied in the wake of his parents and brothers deaths by the time he was fifteen. Rogin claims that by placing national identity within the context of Jackson’s own personal loss, Jackson became a replacement patriarchal figure for Americans mourning the loss of father figures. In other words, the psychoanalytic excavation of Jackson’s life came to embody the society he rose to lead. In this sense and many more, the author argues, Jackson became the first modern American president. One could claim that the story of early America is the story of Andrew Jackson. As Rogin contends, this “history of westward expansion and psychic regression, of regeneration through violence and flawed maturity, is the biography of Jackson” (13). In this sense, Rogin shatters romanticized consensus interpretations of Jackson’s life by revealing him as a leader with a troubled past, an irascible temper, and an extremely protective and removed manner of conducting business.

As the sons of those who led the Revolution came to power, their domination over the “childish” natives symbolized America’s growth from childhood to maturity. Andrew Jackson was the embodiment of this idea. As a son of the Revolution who rose from rags to riches, his personal story encapsulated the essence of the self-made man while inspiring his fellow expansionist Americans to follow in his footsteps of domination and capitalization. Conquering Indian lands reunited whites with the natural landscape and further ingrained them in the increasingly popular notions of Manifest Destiny. Leaders such as Jackson argued that only a paternal-like government could save native nations from themselves or extinction. As Rogin makes clear, however, paternalism better accommodated the needs of whites than it ever did for Indians. Thousands would be dispossessed from their homes in the wake of the broader market economy which replaced more localized household economies.

The quest for capital was an undeniable goal in the Manifest Destiny Jackson helped to initiate. The seizing of land was perhaps one of the greatest international economic implications of the 19^th Century. Indian removal allowed for the planting of cotton and additional crops, which eventually increased the production of northern industry as well as foreign exports. Also within this framework, black slaves were judged with paternal instinct similar to that of Native Americans. Their fate in this “new” west, too, would ignite sectional disharmony and a subsequent fratricidal civil war. In these western territories, Indians and then slaves became the victims of a broader capitalist agenda to attain land and all its resources located therein. The inherent weakness is in Rogin’s argument is also his strength. While the author’s use of psychoanalytic method to uncover Jackson’s ideological roots is beneficial in many cases, Rogin nevertheless makes over-reaching claims in comparing instances of Jackson’s adult behavior to stages of infancy and childhood. One cannot argue that this claim does not add to the historiographical discussion of Jackson’s legacy, however. All in all, Rogin concludes that Jackson’s rise (as well as America’s), embodied the notion that the young republic was no longer childlike, but was growing and evolving “from nature to a capitalist civilization” (13).