Headquarters Armies Of The United States,
City Point, Va., Nov. 18, 1864.
I wrote a hurried note to wife a day or two ago upon my
first arrival at General Grant's headquarters, simply to advise you all of my
health and well-being. I was received here with open arms, unfeigned, and
bounteous hospitality. I proposed returning with the General the day after my
arrival, as he was about paying a visit to his wife at Burlington, but he
pressed me to remain and inspect the lines, for that purpose mounting me on his
own best horse with his own equipments, and assigning his chief aide-de-camp as
my escort. The day before yesterday I rode the lines of the “Army of the James.”
For this purpose a steamboat was detailed which took me up the river to a point
just above the famous “Dutch gap” canal, where the extreme left of the army now
under command of General Butler rests. Mounting our horses, we struck the field
works at this point, and rode the whole circuit, visiting each fort en
route, not forgetting the famous “Fort Harrison,” which cost us so dearly
to wrest from the enemy; we were frequently in sight and within rifle range of
the enemy's pickets, indeed at points within an hundred and fifty yards, and
almost with the naked eye the lineaments of their countenances could be
discerned; but we were not fired upon, for both armies on these lines decry the
abominable practice of picket shooting, which for the most part is
assassination, save when works are to be attempted by assault, and, relying on
each other's honor, observe a sort of truce. I was so often within gunshot of
them this day, and they so well observed the tacit understanding, that I did
not dismount as is usual in exposed places, but always from the saddle made
careful survey of their works. I rode as close as three miles from Richmond,
whose spires could be discerned glittering in the hazy distance. General Butler
had not then returned, but I was glad to be able to renew with my old friend
General Weitzel then in command, an acquaintance formed at Port Hudson, which
ripened into intimacy at New Orleans. He is an elegant fellow, and well worthy
of the honors he enjoys. You may be sure he was glad to see me, and that he did
all one soldier can do to make another happy, giving me his personal escort
through the whole day. I also called upon General Terry, also in command of a
corps, and two or three brigadiers. Their lines of fortifications display
splendid engineering, their army in good condition and spirits, and the
soldiers in first rate fighting trim. The enemy lies at short distance like a
couchant tiger watching for the expected spring. There will be desperate fighting
when we close. At night I re-embarked and returned to these headquarters.
Yesterday our horses were placed upon a special railroad train provided for the
purpose, and after breakfast we started for the headquarters of General Meade,
commanding the Army of the Potomac. At “Meade's Station” our horses were
unshipped and we mounted, riding a short distance to the general's tent. He
received me with profound respect and consideration, excused himself upon the
plea of urgent business from giving me personal escort over the lines, but
assigned his chief aide-de-camp, Colonel Riddle, who gave me guidance. I rode
through his entire army of sixty thousand infantry, and surveyed their lines of
fortifications, in close view of the lines of the enemy, and of the town of
Petersburg. It would be neither proper for me, nor interesting to you, to give
close description of all I saw; suffice it to say, that I found a splendidly
appointed army in tip-top condition, behind works that, well-manned, are
impregnable, close to an enemy who are watching with argus eyes and making
defences with the arms of Briareus. I called in the course of the day upon
Major-Generals Parke and Warren. Parke I knew at Vicksburg, and should have
called upon Hancock, who had made preparation to entertain me, but the night
was closing in murky with promise of storm, and I felt compelled to hasten to
the depot. Thus in these two days I have made very extensive reconnaissance,
inspection and survey of these two great armies upon the movements of which the
destiny of a nation, if not of a world, seems to rest. An incident occurred
yesterday that may serve to interest the children. We often were, as on the day
previous, very close to the picket lines and fortifications of the enemy, and
upon one occasion, as we halted to make close observation of a certain point,
the enemy sent over a dog with a tag of paper attached to his collar, upon
which was written, “Lincoln's majority 36,000.” We detached the paper, offered
the dog something to eat, which he refused, turned him loose, when he forthwith
returned to his master. Surely this is one of the “dogs of war.”
I have been called off from writing, a moment, to be
introduced to General Butler, who has called, and who invites me to dine with
him to-morrow. If the day is not very stormy I shall go to his headquarters.
At Pittsburg, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Baltimore,
Washington, I have been really oppressed, overwhelmed, with polite attentions.
In the War Department, every officer I met, the Secretary, the
Adjutant-General, the Assistant, were eager to give facilities. So at the
Treasury, where I had occasion to transact some business. The Postmaster-General,
our Mr. Dennison, promptly offered me every politeness, and here at these
headquarters, from the General-in-Chief of the Armies of the United States
down, all have done me, and all have seemed eager to do me honor. I am informed
that none others save the General, since he has come into his possession, has
ridden or been offered his favorite horse, a magnificent animal, which,
caparisoned with his own splendid housings, he ordered for me, and has left
subject to my order while I remain. His Chief of Staff offered me the General's
tent and bed during his absence; this I refused. I am the honored guest at the
long mess-table. Well these are trifles in themselves, but taken together are
gratifying to me and will doubtless be to you. I am very proud to have the good
opinion of my commanding generals. I believe I mentioned to you in a former
letter that I had introduced myself to the President, who was pleased to say he
had heard of me, and who, in our interview, was exceedingly polite. Of course,
I take all this just for what it is worth, and nothing more, and should be mean
to attempt self-glorification upon the reception of courtesy that costs so
little. But I am writing to my mother, and to her I cannot refrain some hints
of my position towards those who are now most prominent in the world's history,
and who give countenance and support to me, because I have cheerfully given my
humble efforts to uphold the glory of a nation, the sustaining of a wise and
beneficent government, the crushing of an unholy rebellion, the exposition of a
devilish heresy, the elevation of truth as opposed to error. Those efforts for
a while have been paralyzed and even now I am warned that the flesh is weak. I
am not as I have been. This poor abused body fails me when the spirit is most
strong, and truly with me is the conviction forced, that just as I am learning
to live I must prepare to die. And the world and its glories to me are so
pleasant. No day, no night, is long, “every moment, lightly shaken, runs itself
in golden sands.” My comrades are fast passing away. You have noted, of course,
the death of poor Ransom, my comrade in battle, my bosom friend, whom I dearly
loved. After being four times wounded in battle, he went back to the field to
die like a dog of this disease, this scourge of the soldier, dysentery. I saw
his physician a day or two ago, who told me his bowels were literally
perforated. He retained his mind clear to the last moment, said he was dying,
and called in his staff as he lay in his tent to take a final leave, and issue
a final order. How much better to die as McPherson, with the bullet in the
breast. I sometimes think my health is improving, and I run along for several
days feeling pretty well, but I have had recent evidence that at this time I am
unfit for active service in the field. A Major-General's commission is just
within my grasp, but a week's march and bivouac, I fear, would give me my final
discharge. Still, it is all as God wills. The God of Heaven has watched over
all my steps, and with that careful eye which never sleeps, has guarded me from
death and shielded me from danger. Through the hours, the restless hours of
youth, a hand unseen has guarded all my footsteps in the wild and thorny
battles of life, and led me on in safety through them all. In later days still
the same hand has ever been my guard from dangers seen and unseen. Clouds have
lowered, and tempests oft have burst above my head, but that projected hand has
warded off the thunder-strokes of death, and still I stand a monument of mercy.
Years have passed of varied dangers and of varied guilt, but still the
sheltering wings of love have been outspread in mercy over me; and when the
allotted task is done, when the course marked out by that same good God is run,
then, and not till then, shall I, in mercy, pass away. Meanwhile, give me your
prayers, dear mother, for in your prayers, and in those of the dear good women
who remember me in their closets, alone with their God, do I place all faith.
Pray for me that I be not led into temptation, that I may be delivered from
evil.
We do not hear from General Sherman, but we have the fullest
faith that all will be well with him, and that he will accomplish his great
undertaking. My own command is by this time with Thomas at Paducah. Say to Joe
and Margaret, that the same servants are about General Grant's headquarters,
each man remaining true at his post, that they all inquired after Joe and
Margaret and old Uncle Jeff, and that all of them were very much mortified when
I felt compelled to tell them that Uncle Jeff had abandoned me. They were all
glad to hear that Joe and Margaret were married, and all sent kind messages to
them. General Rawlins's little black boy Jerry has got to be a first rate
servant, and so has Colonel Duff's boy Henry; Douglass, and General Grant's
William, are all on hand. Colonel Duff's sorrel horse, John, that great walking
horse he was afraid of, the one that used to run away and that he got me to
ride (Joe will remember him), was captured by the enemy. The General's little bay
stallion, he thought so much of, is dead. He sent the cream-colored stallion
home. I write this to interest Joe. Tell him to keep quiet, that I shall soon
be home, and don't want him to leave me till the war is over, and then I will
make provision for him.
Just as I am writing now, I am being complimented by a
serenade from a splendid brass band. I would give a good deal if you were all
here on the banks of the James, to hear the thrilling music, though I should
want you away as soon as it was over. My best and dearest love to all my dear
ones.
Blessings rest upon you all, forgive my haste and crude
expressions. It is always hard to write in camp, but impossible almost to me
with music in my ear.
SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of
Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 365-70
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