Showing posts with label 54th OH INF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 54th OH INF. Show all posts

Saturday, September 21, 2019

Major-General William T. Sherman to Lieutenant Governor Benjamin Stanton, June 10, 1862


CAMP IN THE FIELD, NEAR CHEWALLA, TENN.,     
June 10, 1862.

Lieutenant-Governor B. Stanton, Columbus Ohio;

SIR:  I am not surprised when anonymous scribblers write and publish falsehoods or make criticisms on matters of which they know nothing of or which they are incapable of comprehending.  It is their trade.  They live by it.  Slander gives point and piquancy to a paragraph, and the writing, being irresponsible or beneath notice, escapes a merited punishment.  It is different with men in high official station, who, like, you, descend to this dirty work.  You had an opportunity to learn the truth, for I saw you myself at Shiloh soon after the battle, and know that hundreds would have aided you in your work, had you been in search of facts.  You never inquired of me concerning the truth of events which you must have know transpired in my sight and hearing, but seemed to have preferred the “camp stories” to authentic data then within your reach.

A friend, by mere accident, has shown me a slip of newspaper, dated April 10th, 1862, styled “Extra,” published at Bellefontaine, Ohio, and signed B. Stanton.  I am further told you are the man.  If so, and you be the lieutenant governor of Ohio, I hold that you are my pear, and that of Generals Grant, Hurlbut and Prentiss, all of whom you directly charge with  conduct on the field of Shiloh which deserves a court martial, whose sentence, if you have not borne false witness, would be degradation or death.  The accusatory part of your statement is all false, false in general, false in every particular, and I repeat you could not have failed to know it false when you published that statement.  To prove what I say, I know quote the concluding part of your paper:

“Some complaints have been made about the conduct of a few of the new regiments in this battle, including the 54th and 57th.  It must be remembered that these are new regiments — that not only have they never seen any service, but they never received their guns until they arrived on the Tennessee river, two or three weeks before the battle.  So with Myers’ battery.  It has not been more than six weeks since they have had their horses.  And yet these regiments and this battery were put on the extreme outside of our camp, and were consequently first exposed to the enemy’s fire.  And to this that our lines were so carelessly and negligently guarded that the enemy were absolutely on us in our very tents before the officers in command were aware of their approach.  The wonder therefore is, not that these regiments were finally broken and routed, but that they made any stand at all!  But the loss sustained by these regiments, especially by Capt. Starr’s company, in the 54th, shows that they made a gallant and noble stand. And that their ultimate retreat was not the fault of the men, but of the blundering stupidity and negligence of the general in command.   There is an intense feeling of indignation against Generals Grant and Prentiss, and the general feeling among the most intelligent men with whom I conversed is that they ought to be court martialed and shot.

Yours, etc.
B. STANTON.”

With Myers’ battery I have nothing to do, as it was in Gen. Hurlbut’s division, who has made his official report, which proves yours untrue: for instead of being kept on the “extreme outside of our camp” it was at the beginning of the battle more than a mile to the rear of mine and McClernand’s and Prentiss’s divisions.  The 54th Col. T. Kirby Smith, and 57th, Col. William Mungen did for a part of my command.  No one that I ever heard has questioned the courage and gallantry of the 54th, unless it be inferred from your own apology for them, and I know that I speak the mind of the officers of that regiment when I say that they scorn to have their merits bolstered up by your lame and impotent conclusions.  As to their being on the outer line, it was where they wished to be, and so far from being surprised, they were, by my orders, under arms at daylight, and it was near 10 A. M., before the enemy assailed their position.  This position was so favorable that Col. Stuart with his small brigade of which the 54th formed a part, held at bay for hours Hardee’s hole division, composed of infantry, artillery, and cavalry.

The 57th was posted on the left of Shiloh, which, I say, and in which Beauregard concurs with me, was the key to the whole position.  It was in the very front, the place of honor, to which Col. Mungen or his men could not object.  Their front was guarded by themselves, and if negligence is justly charged, it belongs to the regiment itself.  So favorable was the ground that, although the regiment lost but two officers and seven men, Col. Mungen has more than once assured me that he counted fifty dead secessionists on the ground over which he was attacked.  As to the enemy being in their very camp before the officers in command were aware of their approach, it is the most wicked falsehood that was ever attempted to be thrust upon a people sad and heartsore at the terrible but necessary casualties of war.  That the cowards who deserted their comrades in that hour of danger should, in their desperate strait to cover up their infamy, invent such a story, was to be expected; but that you should have lent yourself as a willing instrument in perpetuating that falsehood, is a shame from which you can never hope to recover.  The truth is now well understood.  For days we knew the enemy was in our front, but the nature of the ground and his superior strength in cavalry, prevented us from breaking through the veil of their approach to ascertain their true strength and purpose.  But as soldiers we were prepared at all times to receive an attack, and even to make one if circumstances warranted it.  On that morning our pickets had been driven in.  Our main guards were forced back to the small valley in our front.  All our regiments of infantry, batteries of artillery and squadrons of cavalry were prepared.  I myself, their commander, was fully prepared, and rode along the line of this very regiment and saw it in position in front of their camp, and looking to a narrow causeway across the small creek by which the enemy was expected and did approach.

After passing this regiment, I road on to Appler’s position and beyond some five hundred yards, where I was fired on and my orderly, Thos. D. Holliday was killed.  Even after I gave some directions about Waterhouse’s battery, and again returned to Shiloh in time to witness the attack there.  It is simply ridiculous to talk about surprise.  To be sure, very many where astonished and surprised, not so much at the enemy’s coming, but at the manner of his coming, and these sought safety at the river, and could not be prevailed to recover from their surprise till the enemy had been driven away by their comrades after two days hard fighting.  I have never made a question of individual bravery of this or any other regiment, but merely state facts.  The regiment still belongs to my command, and has elicited my praise for its improvement and steadiness in the many skirmished and affairs during our advance on Corinth.  I doubt not the people of Ohio will yet have a reason to feel the same pride in this regiment as they now do in many other of the same State of deservedly high repute.  As to the intense feeling against Generals Grant and Prentiss — could anything be more base than that?  Grant just fresh from the victory of Donelson, more rich in fruits than was Saratoga, Yorktown, or any other one fought on this continent, is yet held up to the people of Ohio, his native State as one who in the opinion of the intelligent coward, is worthy to be shot; and Prentiss, now absent and prisoner, unable to meet your wicked and malicious shafts, also condemned to infamy and death.  Shame on you, and I know I tell you an unpleasant truth when I assure you neither he nor his men were surprised, butchered in their tents, etc., but on the contrary, were prepared in time to receive this shock of battle more terrible than any in the annals of American history have hitherto recorded.  He met it manfully and well, for hours bore up against the superior host, fell back slowly and in order till he met the reserves under Wallace and Hurlbut and fought till near 4 P. M., when he was completely enveloped and made prisoner.  Well do I remember the line after line of steady troops displaying the bloody banner of the South, and to me the more familiar pelican flag of Louisiana, bearing down on Prentiss, who was to my left and rear, and how, though busy enough with my own appropriate part, I felt for his danger and dispatched to him my aid, Maj. Sanger, to give him notice.  My aid found him in advance of his camps fighting well, but the shock was too great, and he was borne back step by step till made prisoner, six hours after your surprised informants had sought refuge under the steep banks of the Tennessee.

So much for the history of event you did not behold and yet pretend to comment on.  You came to Shiloh on a mission of mercy after danger and before a new one arose.  You tarried a few days, but I cannot learn from my Ohio Colonels how you dispensed your charitable trust.  That is none of by business, but I do know you abused your opportunity and caught up vague, foolish camp rumors from the region of the steamboat landing, instead of seeking for truth where alone you did know it could be found, among the thousands of brave Ohio men who were in my camp, and who can still boast of never having seen the Tennessee river since the day they disembarked.  You then return to your State, and in obscure printed slips, circulate libels and falsehoods against men whose vocation and distance made it highly improbable that you could ever be held to an account.  You know that we were in the presence of a fierce bold and determined enemy, with hundreds of miles of ambush before us, from which a few stray shots would relieve you of your victims.  You know that our men were raw and undisciplined, and that all our time was taken up in organization, drill and discipline. Leaving us no time to meet your malicious slanders and resent your insults.  The hour of reckoning seemed, therefore, distant and uncertain.  You have had your day, but the retreat of the enemy and a day of comparative rest, has given me leisure to write this for your benefit.  Grant and Hurlbut and Prentiss still live, and will in due season bay their respects also.

If you have no respect for the honor and reputation of the generals who lead the armies of your country, you should have some regard to the honor and welfare of the country itself.  If your paper could have had its intended effect of destroying the confidence of the Executive, the army and the people in their generals, it would have produced absolute and utter disorganization.  It not only placed courage and cowardice, stubborn and enduring valor and ignominious flight upon the same base, but it holds up to public favor those who deserted their colors, and teaches them to add insubordination to cowardice.  Such an army as your military morale would produce could not be commanded by any general who hoped to win reputation or who had reputation to loose.  Our whole force, if imbued with your notions, would be driven across the Ohio in less than a month, and even you would be disturbed in your quiet study where you now, in perfect safety, write libels against the generals who organize our armies and with them fight and win battle for our country.

I am, etc.,
W. T. SHERMAN,    
Major-General of Volunteers.

SOURCES: “Letter from Gen. Sherman to Lieut. Gov. Stanton,” Gallipolis Journal, Gallipolis, Ohio, Thursday, July 3, 1862, p. 4; “A Federal Quarrel,” Memphis Daily Appeal, Memphis, Tennessee, Friday, June 27, 1862, p. 1.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, April 17, 1862

Raleigh, Virginia, April 17, 1862.

Dearest: — I was made happy by your letter and the fine picture of you it contained. You seem undecided which you intended should have it, Uncle Joe or your husband. But I shall keep it. You will have to send another to Joe.

Very glad the money and everything turned out all right. I get the Commercial quite often — often enough to pay for taking it. And you paid Mr. Trenchard! Why, you are getting to be a business woman. I shall have to let the law out to you when I come home again. I do not know that I shall have an opportunity to do much for Will De Charmes, but I shall bear him in mind. If Fremont ever comes along here I may succeed.

We are still hunting bushwhackers, succoring persecuted Union men, and the like. Our intended advance was stopped by a four-days rain which, like the old four-days meeting, I began to think never would end. We are now getting ready to go on — in fact we are ready, but waiting for others. A great battle at Pittsburg [Landing] and probably not a very great victory. It will all come right, however. We are told that Captain Richardson of the Fifty-fourth was killed. You will perhaps remember him as a gigantic lieutenant of Company D, whose wife was at Camp Chase when you were there.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 229-30

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Eliza Walter Smith, October 20, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade,
First Div., Seventeenth Army Corps,
Vicksburg, Miss., Oct. 20, 1863.
My Dear Mother:

General Grant received your letter and of this I have written before. He is now gone, I don't know whither — flitted with his staff and surroundings before I had come back, as the swallows flit in the fall. I do not think you have got a right estimate of Sherman. You call him “slow, cautious, almost to a fault.” On the contrary, he is as quick as lightning, the most rapid thinker, actor, writer, I ever came in contact with — proud and high-spirited as an Arab horse. Grant is slow and cautious, and sure and lucky. They are both good men. Men you would admire if you knew them, and men who upon first blush you would be marvellously deceived in.

You ask about the tribute from the old “54th.” I understand the boys have made arrangements to fit me out; but haven’t received the articles. Somebody said that they were sumptuous. I suppose they would get the best that money could buy, for they think a heap of “old Kilby” — the only name by which I am known in the Fifteenth Army Corps. Strangers used to come and ask for Kilby, and for a long time I rarely heard the name of Smith as applied to myself. I don't know but what their presents have been burnt up or sunk in the river. There has been a great deal of loss lately. When they come, I will let you know and tell you all about them.

Enclosed herewith find copy of a letter written by General Sherman to the 13th Regulars on the occasion of the death of his son at Memphis. I saw a copy by accident to-day, and together with the brief notice that his son had died, is the only intelligence I have. He had his boy with him, a bright, active little fellow, who rode with him wherever he went, and who was a great pet with his own old regiment, the 13th Regulars. You know General Sherman came into the service as colonel of this regiment at the outset of the war. The death must have been sudden, and you perceive by the tenor of the letter how deeply he feels it. I do assure you that we find every day in the service, that “the bravest are the tenderest, the loving are the daring.” I will forward your letter to him, and perhaps you had better address him again on the occasion of his bereavement. I am sure he is a dear friend of mine, and in the chances of this war, calculating upon his position and mine, it is hardly probable we shall meet again. Like him, “on, on, I must go, till I meet a soldier's fate, or see my country rise superior to all factions, till its flag is adored and respected by ourselves and all the powers on earth,''1 and now our paths are slightly divergent. Can you imagine it, even as I write, the enclosed order is handed me, and received without one pang of regret. I copy verbatim. You may understand the chances and changes of a soldier's life. The darky says, “here to-morrow and gone to-day.”


Special Orders
No. 236.

headquarters Seventeenth Army Corps,
Dept. Of The Tennessee,
vicksburg, Miss., Oct. 20, 1863.

Brig.-Genl. E. S. Dennis, U. S. Vols., will report forthwith to Genl. McArthur, to be assigned to command of Second Brigade, First Division, and will relieve Brig.-Genl. T. K. Smith.

Brig.-Genl. T. K. Smith, on being relieved from command of Second Brigade, First Division, will proceed forthwith to Natchez, Miss., and report to Brig.-Genl. M. M. Crocker, commanding Fourth Division, for assignment to command of Brigade in Fourth Division.

By order of Maj.-Genl. Mcpherson,
W. T. Clark,
A. A. General.
Brig.-Genl. T. K. Smith,
Com'g Second Brigade, First Division.


Thus you perceive, having licked the Second Brigade into shape, I am assigned elsewhere. Meanwhile, pray for me, and thank God that everything has transpired to take me out of the filthy God-forsaken hole on a hill. My next will be from Natchez and will contain full directions how to address me. Keep writing, and enclose my letters with request to forward to Major-Genl. James B. McPherson, commanding Seventeenth Army Corps, Department of the Tennessee, Vicksburg, Miss. He is my warm, intimate, personal friend, and will see that all come safe to hand. I enclose you his carte. He is very handsome, a thorough soldier, brave as Caesar, young, a bachelor, and — engaged to be married.

Genl. M. M. Crocker, to whom I am about to report, is a most excellent gentleman and eke a soldier, thank God! graduate of the Military Academy of West Point, also an intimate of mine and friend. Somehow or other, the West Pointers all take to me, and by the grace of God I find my way among soldiers. You can't understand all this, but it is most delightful to have a soldier, a real soldier, for a commander and associate. Natchez, by this time is a second home to me. I know a heap of people and have some good friends even among the '”Secesh.” I may be there a day, a month, a year, nobody knows and nobody cares. I can pack, and “get up and dust” as quickly as any of them.
_______________

1 General Sherman's letter to Capt. C. C. Smith 13th Regulars.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 340-2

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Brigadier-General Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, September 20, 1863

Headquarters Dept. Of The Tenn.,
Vicksburg, Sept. 20, 1863.

Mail of this morning brings your congratulations. I have been so long a brigadier that the mere rank added makes but little difference in my feelings.

I wrote you yesterday, urging you to write to General Grant; a few minutes since he showed me your letter to him of even date with mine, eloquent and well expressed, but brief. You must write to him more at length. In my judgment he will be confined to his bed for a long time with his injury. Such letters as you could write would interest him more than you can well imagine. . . .

I must tell you an incident which occurred to me the other day, before I went to New Orleans. The city of Natchez had sent up a delegation to wait upon General Grant, who turned them over to me. I was to escort them around the fortifications, and the General gave the principal man, the mayor, his war-horse to ride — a splendid cream-colored stallion, a little vicious. I was riding Bell, a horse you have never seen, but confessed the finest horse in the army, East or West; all have said so who have seen him — a large powerful brown or mahogany bay, great in battle, one who will yield the right of way to none. Well, we were riding in a very narrow gorge, the mayor had dismounted to lead his horse over a bad place, being in advance of me, when all at once he turned and a terrific conflict took place between the two horses. I seized the bridle of the General's, endeavoring to manage both; at the same moment mine reared straight upon his hind legs. I dismounted in the expectation that he would fall upon me, and as I touched the ground fell. Then these two great stallions, full of fire and fury, fought over my prostrate body, their hoofs struck together and each trampled within an inch of my head all around and over me. I lay still as if I had been in bed; I knew my hour had not yet come. My own horse was the first to perceive my danger; he retired a little from regard to me. Those who were by were speechless and horror-stricken. I rose unharmed, mounted and rode forward. I have never been in greater peril of my fife. God watches me in calm and in storm.

My old regiment wanted to make me a present of a saddle and bridle, and I am told raised in a few moments $975 for that purpose, and the thing was to be extended to sword, sash, pistols, everything complete.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 337-8

Monday, June 9, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Eliza Walter Smith, March 1, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Division,
Fifteenth Army Corps, March 1, 1863.
My Dear Mother:

You speak of my name not appearing in the Commercial; if our official reports were published by that sheet it would appear. I have sent you copies of both reports, of my immediate commanders, of the recent battles. I believe my name is sufficiently conspicuous in both; it is equally conspicuous in the report of General Sherman. Flattery is contemptible to both parties; all but flattery I think my commanders have given me. That my name does not appear in the public prints is simply because I will not resort to the usual means and appliances to place it there. If I was a merchant or an inventor of quack medicines, I would advertise to fill my purse, but I cannot, I do not know how to advertise my honor, and I am almost ashamed to seek for that preferment which I should be accorded without the asking. Even in the seeking, if I know myself, I am unselfish in intent, for I think, nay, know, that I can serve my country better in the position I want to have guaranteed to me — the one I now hold — than as the commanding officer of a regiment literally hacked and hewed to pieces in battle, to say nothing of accident or disease on the long and tiring march, the loathsome transport, the unhealthy camp. There are but few left of the brave hearts that followed me to the field. The graves of their dead are land-marks on eighteen hundred weary miles that their survivors are away — away from homes on the banks of the Miamies and the Sandusky, and the Scioto, and the Muskingum, from the farm and the village, from the workshop and the college, the railroad and the factory, all the way from the Ohio River to the shores of Erie. The whole State of Ohio, emphatically almost every county in it, was represented by my regiment, and such a regiment her borders will never raise again; leal hearts and hardy frames, young, joyous, full of fire and enterprise and patriotism ; and, God help me, how many are gone! Their bones bleach — bleach, that 's the word, for graves were shallow and coffins they had none at “Shiloh” — their graves dot Tennessee from Corinth to Memphis. Unshrouded and unanealed their ghastly corpses gibber in the moonlight on the banks of the Yazoo ; and at Arkansas Post the rude head boards tell where the dead braves of the “54th” rest. A handful are left — less than three hundred all told.

In respect to General Sherman and the press, I have written at some length in a former letter that you doubtless have before this received. Not the press, but the infernal scoundrels who prostitute it by making it a medium for their base designs upon individuals, the public, and the nation, does he propose not only to muzzle but destroy. General Sherman will live in history, and in the hearts of his countrymen when these wretched myrmidons shall have passed to infamy and eternal death. The reaction in his favor is sure to come. No man ever lived who, possessing his talents and energy, and purity of life and heart and purposes, failed to make his mark upon the times; and as sure as he now lives, he will illustrate his position, and cause his name to shine brightly on the page of history. His father-in-law, Mr. Ewing, quoted from Macaulay, and applied most appositely to him the sentence “fierce denunciation and high panegyric make up what men call glory”; both the former has General Sherman had in no stinted measure, but his true glory is in his native excellence; his full power has not yet been shown. O, Mother! if you had seen that man as I have seen him, if you could have sat by his side as I have sat, amid death and destruction, when the fate of a nation seemed to hang and . . . in my opinion did then hang on his word; had you watched him as I watched, and noted him exalted above materiality, towering above and beyond the sense of pain and fear of death ; had you scanned his eagle eye flashing and blazing with the fire of intellect, and in its comprehensive glance taking in and weighing the fate of thousands; had you known him as I knew him, win a great, a glorious battle, great as Waterloo, and which ought to have been decisive, and that would, within twenty-four hours of its close, have been decisive of the fate of the Republic had he been alone in command, you would spurn the lucubrations of the miserable drivellers, who like mousing owls are hawking at the eagle towering in his pride of place, as utterly unworthy a second thought. Have you ever known me deceived in my judgment of men so far as intellect is concerned? Where to-day are the friends and companions of my early youth and young manhood? Some are dead, but the good was not interred with their bones; they still live. One (you well know whom I mean) has made his opinions in the jurisprudence of Ohio classical; his faults, his vices, if you please, are forgotten; his graces, the strength of his glorious intellect, still illumines. Sherman is greater than he, and oh! far better, and trust me, when lesser lights go out or feebly glimmer in obscurity, his will shine out a bright particular star in the political firmament, a guiding star to those who come after him. If I could only approach him in example, you would have a son to be proud of. To me it is a matter of great pride that I have had the inestimable privilege of almost intimate association with him for a year past, by day and by night, in the peril of the field and the pleasures of the social board. I have never heard him utter a word that would bring the blush to the cheek of maiden purity. I have never known him insult his God; he is invariable in his just respect for the rights of others, and though he rarely smiles, though to the vast responsibilities with which he has been clothed, all the amenities of life with him have been sacrificed; still, with a cheering amiability of heart, he has been foremost in strewing the few flowers that give fragrance to the thorny pathway of the soldier.

As respects Vicksburg, I cannot, ought not, to write you much — time alone can tell what will be the result of our enterprise. All that men can do will be performed; the rest is with the God of battles, who holds in His hands the fate of nations. I send a little sketch which may serve to give you some faint idea of the topography of the country. By the bye, I have learned that the name “Yazoo,” in the Indian tongue, signifies death — “Yazoo River,” the river of death — and truly its waters are most abominable, dealing death to almost all who drank freely of them, while its stream ran red with the blood of those slain on its banks. You will note its course, the position of the bayous, and where our troops fought. The celebrated “Haines Bluff” and our present position toward Vicksburg.

I have written to you that I enjoyed a soldier's life, and indeed I do notwithstanding its privations and discomforts, and in this, that it is a life of excitement and free from the care that has heretofore been my portion. With you I mourn that I did not enter the military academy when I had the opportunity, and fit myself while young for a brilliant military career, for I feel that it might have been made brilliant. Youth wasted! well, why look back? That “might have been” weighs often upon me like an incubus. If I could only keep fresh my youthful feelings.

Colonel Spooner has probably been detained in his own State partly by family bereavement and partly by business. I shall hope he will be able to see you all before he returns. He is in my command, and can tell you a great deal about me. I am glad you were pleased with Major Fisher; he is a favorite of mine and I have always kept him near my person. He is possessed of a fine and cultivated mind, is amiable in character, but cool and brave in action. Was educated in his profession, of which he is a master, by General Rosecrans, and was promoted to his majority for his gallantry at Carnifex Ferry in Virginia, and assigned to my regiment. In case I am promoted, I design he shall command it. He met with a great affliction in the loss of his wife, a most lovely girl, and her child, within a year of his marriage, and his life has been clouded and embittered in consequence. I believe he is most sincerely attached to me, indeed I have been fortunate in making many friends in the service, and I doubt not an equal number of enemies.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 274-8

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, January 14, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade,
Second Division, Fifteenth Army Corps,
January 14, 1863.

My Dear Wife:

You have heard of our last battle, and this will give you the assurance of my safety. My brigade behaved splendidly. I had ninety-three officers and men killed and wounded; among them, Captain Yeoman, senior captain and in command of my old 54th, had his right arm shattered, since amputated. The 54th has lost pretty heavily in both the last engagements. She's a gallant little regiment, the men true as steel. Indeed, my command is most emphatically a fighting brigade. The day was beautiful after we had got fairly on the ground, and the spectacle was splendidly imposing as my forces made the charge. You must understand, that this post, heretofore called “Post Arkansas,” but christened by the rebels “Fort Hyndman,” is situated upon the Arkansas River about sixty miles above the mouth. The country about where the Arkansas empties into the Mississippi is flat and intersected with bayous and cutoffs; one of these leads into White River, and our fleet having rendezvoused at the mouth of White River, we sailed up that stream to one of these cutoffs, and through that to the Arkansas and up the Arkansas to a point three miles below the fort. Here we threw troops across the river to intercept reinforcements to the enemy, but the main army debarked on the side on which the fort is situated, and immediately commenced the line of march; directly as we were en route, the enemy began to throw their shell among us, which were returned by our gunboats, while the infantry steadily pursued their way. About a mile from the point of debarkation, we came upon their rifle-pits from which they had recently fled, and where we found their fires still burning and cornbread still warm. The term rifle-pit means a long ditch or trench, sometimes extending for many miles, with a barricade of logs or rails or sometimes willows or canes, to hold the earth in position, which ought to be in embankment at least four feet broad at the top. Behind this embankment, troops stand sheltered and in line firing at advancing forces. I make this explanation because many suppose rifle-pits to be holes in the ground.

Well as we advanced, the enemy abandoned their defences and after some slight skirmishing, retreated to the fort, from which was now commenced terrific cannonading. A little before sundown, other troops having marched around to the other side, and rear of the fort, it became my duty to advance my brigade to a point immediately in front of one of their batteries, and having put the troops in line of battle, I was ordered to advance them and draw the enemy's fire; this I did with such effect as to cost me fourteen men, among whom was Captain Yeoman. Under their fire we lay until nightfall, and indeed all night. The next morning, at the break of day, we were ordered to the right and to a point nearly in front of their main fortifications, and here we lay again, under shell, until one o'clock, when I was ordered to storm the works; I wish I could fully explain to you the position of the ground, and must make some faint attempt at it, so you can appreciate the movements of my troops. The original fort is an hundred years old, and was erected as a defence against the Indians; considered one of the strongest forts in the U. S. Being upon a bluff it was supposed to command the bend of the river with three immense cannon, throwing respectively 110-, 100-, and 85-pound shot and shell; besides these, were fifteen pivot guns, having range at any given point. These are in the fort itself, a most scientifically constructed work, capable of holding, crowded, fifteen hundred men. From one side of this fort, and running westwardly, was a line of breastwork extending to the river-side somewhat thus:



Now you will imagine my forces lying in the woods to the eastward, say half a mile, at the time of my receiving the order to storm, and you will imagine all of this ground north of the fort and breastworks, a beautiful level plain, a little ascending to the fort and spacious enough to admit of three regiments in line, and the day to be as bright and beautiful as ever gladdened the heart of man, and then imagine, if you can, my brigade deploying from the woods just in the rear of General Sherman, and firing exactly as you see in the diagram, with ten brave banners fluttering in the breeze and gilded by the sun. Recollect, each regiment has a banner and a regimental flag, such a banner as you saw for the 54th, and the U. S. flag, the stars and stripes. As a military display, I never saw it equalled. The troops were formed under a perfect hurricane of shot and shell, the breastworks and rifle-pits were lined thick with the enemy. We formed, advanced, and the official reports will give you the rest. Their white flag went up, and I leaped, or got my horse over somehow or other. I don't know exactly how, for it was a wicked-looking place when I surveyed it the next morning, and by order of the commanding general caused four thousand men, prisoners of war, to ground arms by my order. I marshalled them behind the breastworks, while my troops stood on the ramparts. The enemy fought most gallantly, with a most unparalleled obstinacy. The ground inside the fortif1cations was piled with corpses and strewn thick with mangled limbs. The fort was torn all to pieces. The muzzle of the 110-pound gun was shot off. A shell of ours must have entered the very muzzle. These descriptions you will get from the professional writers, and in this instance all their word painting will hardly be an exaggeration of the truth.

I have reason to thank God; for a little while this, to me, was the hardest-fought battle I have been in, and the whistle of bullets and shrieking of shells are sounds familiar in my ears as household words. This, however, is my first real action at the point of the bayonet and the muzzle of the gun. The feeling is very thrilling; nobody but the victor on the battlefield can appreciate the very madness of joy. I made speeches to my new regiments; the enthusiasm was tremendous. My old veterans are seasoned and take things quietly, but my 83d Indiana and 127th Illinois were carried up to the seventh heaven.

I suppose it is small and mean, but there is a flattery, an adulation, a praise coming from the mouths of these soldiers that is very dear to me, and not from them alone. I must confess I want it from my country.

“If we are marked to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men the greater share of honor.
God’s will! I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It grieves me not if men my garments wear.
Such outward things dwell not in my desires;
But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.”

I must hope for justice to my name, for my dear children's sake. If it is tardy in coming, or wholly withheld, I still have a satisfaction in the possession of the affection of these troops. Ohio in all her counties is well represented. Illinois and Indiana fairly. Many a family throughout a vast breadth will learn who led their brother, or husband, or son, at Chickasas [sic], and Vicksburg, or Post Arkansas.

The conduct of my command was under the immediate eye of the generals. My own official report is therefore very brief. I would amplify more to you now if I did not suppose I should be duplicating what you will probably have read in the newspapers, before this letter comes to hand.
The incidents of our life, thrilling enough in the start, soon become an old story; at least, we think nothing of them and suppose they have lost interest to our friends. I might tell how, leaving the boat in the expectation of an immediate fight, and, therefore, taking nothing with me in the way of nourishment or extra clothing, I stood by the head of, or sat on, my horse all the night long, the first night out, the shells coursing their fiery flight through the darkness and bursting over my head; how eagerly I watched for the streaks of dawn ; how all the day I fainted for a drop of water ; how the wounded and the dead lay all around me; of the captures I made in the way of prisoners and horses (individually, I mean), of the ludicrous scenes in the field — for strange as it may seem to you, there is always something to laugh at even on the battlefield — but this has been told over and over again; I cannot paint pain and anguish, and disappointment and dismay and death. They must be seen as I have seen them to be understood; they can never be described.

We occupied the fort for two days and then re-embarked, and, after a little, shall sail down the Arkansas to the mouth, where we expect to rendezvous with other troops from Grant's army. From thence, I suppose, to Vicksburg, to try them again with a much larger force. There’ll be many a bloody fight before Vicksburg surrenders, in my judgment; her natural position is immensely strong, and she is thoroughly fortified, well provisioned, and well manned. We have vague news from Rosecrans; nothing, however, reliable; if one half of what we hear be true, and his success as great as represented, that, joined to our late victory here, may have a demoralizing effect upon the Southern army, and cause them to capitulate at Vicksburg. Many of the soldiers we found here claimed that their time was up, and that they would have left in a few days. However that may be, one thing is certain, they will dispute every inch of ground as long as there is a man among them capable of bearing arms. It’s no rebellion, it’s revolution, and a more united people you never heard of or read of. Recollect what I used to say before the first gun in this war was fired, and for many months afterwards, how I used to talk to my friends, when they would prate about the South and its resources — a matter of which they had not the slightest conception. I propose to fight the fight out, at least as long as I have a right hand to draw the sabre.

I notice in reading my letter over, that I have not explained there were two sets of works or rifle-pits, the first about a mile and a half beyond the line of fortifications. I mean the outside lines, and the first we encountered. They were on the north and east.

The four thousand prisoners surrendered to me, of whom I speak, were only a portion of those within the fortifications; the residue being inside the fort and at other points. We took seven thousand prisoners and eight thousand stand of arms.

I speak of the representation in my brigade. I suppose there is scarcely a county in Ohio from which some men have not been recruited for the old 54th; the 57th is made up from the Hooppole region and the northwest. The 55th and 127th Illinois were both picked regiments, and came from all over the State. The 83d Indiana was recruited near Lawrenceburg and the tier of counties bordering Ohio. So you see I have gone over good space for infantry. My batteries are from Chicago and my cavalry from Illinois.

My boat is under way; she, of course, is the flagship of my fleet of six. It used to be quite a thing when I was a boy to command a steamboat. I have the sublime honor of commanding six, some of them very heavy, fine boats. Just before leaving, I went to pay my wounded a visit. Poor fellows, I found them in all stages of suffering, but all cheery, game to the last. My poor Captain Yeoman sat holding up his poor stump of an arm. I could hardly keep the tears back. The boat was crowded and they were bringing stretchers in all the time I was there. I hope the poor fellows will get good attention when they arrive at home. The Sanitary Commissioners have done nothing for us. The living for the wounded and the weak is the hardest that can be imagined — no wine, no brandy, no nourishing food. The fresh beef from starved sick cattle that have been brought upon the steamboat, the bacon, potatoes, bad; nothing fit to eat but beans, and I’ve lived on beans till I loathe the sight of them. What our poor wounded are to do, God only knows. I gave them all the money I had, and all I could borrow, but a good many of them will see hell before they die.

As I write, the weather, which was beautiful and warm, changes to rain and then cold, and now as we sail down the river, we are in a violent snowstorm. The river is wide, and winding, and beautiful, lined with the canebrake and cotton tree and now and then a fine plantation. The water is not fit to drink, being impregnated with soda and salts, that causes it to operate badly. Population is sparse upon its banks so far as we have gone.

I received two copies of your little poem, and wish you would send me some more. It was very much admired. I showed it to Stuart one day in the field before Vicksburg. We were waiting breakfast early in the morning. He insisted on reading it through, and cried like a baby as he read it. You must send me some more copies.

We are nearing the mouth of the river and soon shall be again on the broad Mississippi.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 258-64

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, January 3, 1863

Headquarters Fourth Brigade, Second Div.,
“MilliKEN's Bend,” Louisiana, January 3, 1863.

I seize a moment to write you a brief letter, for I know how anxious you all must be about me. The papers, who know everything, and more too, will have apprised you long before you receive this letter that we have had a fight, that we have met the enemy and that they are not ours; and you will imagine, of course, that I am captured, wounded and killed, but by the grace of God I’ve come out of the ruins unscathed. I went under fire Saturday evening, about six o'clock, 27th ult.; was in raging battle Sunday and Monday; and Sunday, very early in the action, Gen. Morgan L. Smith was shot pretty badly in the hip and had to go off the field. I think he’ll die. By General Sherman's order, General Stuart assumed command of the division and I of the brigade, but Stuart being unwell I virtually had command of the whole division during the fight of Sunday. After the first part of the affair was over, Gen. A. J. Smith, as ranking officer, took command. I had ten regiments and three batteries of sixteen guns before Smith came. My men behaved splendidly, especially in our own regiment, which, however, suffered a good deal, nineteen killed and wounded; my best captain badly wounded. Our loss is pretty heavy, but the enemy must have suffered terribly. I am now in command of the old brigade, composed of the 54th Ohio, 55th Illinois, 57th Ohio, 83d Indiana, and 127th Illinois, with two fine batteries. The 83d Indiana is a noble regiment, commanded by Colonel Spooner, of Lawrenceburgh; he knows your father well. I led his regiment under their first fire myself and can testify to their gallantry. I suppose the Administration will have too much to do to think of the promotion of so insignificant and humble an individual as me, but it is pretty hard to take the responsibility of commanding brigades without the rank. Yet this is the second big fight in which I've been compelled to it, to say nothing of minor skirmishes. My own little regiment is a brick; she'll follow me to hell at the word go. Never falters, never complains. We lay in that swamp, among the mud-turtles and alligators, a week, and short of rations, and not the first man whimpered. I had a fellow shot through the hand, shattering it and maiming him for life; the ball broke the stock of his rifle, and instead of complaining about his hand, he went hunting about for another gun, cursing the enemy for breaking his; however, all these incidents of battle are very uninteresting to you and it is really wonderful how soon we forget them. There is a party of officers sitting now at my right hand, laughing and talking and playing cards, whose lives, twenty-four hours ago, were not worth a rush, who have been in the imminent and deadly breach, who have lost comrades and soldiers from their companies, and who this moment are entirely oblivious of the fact.

The weather has been generally warm and pleasant for the past ten or twelve days; is now warm enough, but it rains tremendously. I am told, by those who know the climate, that it rains at this season of the year, after it once sets in, for six weeks, then storms for six weeks, and then rains again. I don't know how this may be, but God preserve us from having days of such rain as has been pouring down this.

They all seem to be looking forward to Christmas, with the usual fond anticipations of childhood, and with that they wish I could be with them. My Christmas was far away, sailing on the Mississippi; my dinner, for supplies were very short, a homely dish of codfish and potatoes minced, with a relish of stewed beans. My New Year's Day was passed under the rifle-pits and batteries of the enemy in one of the vast swamps of the Mississippi, beneath huge cottonwood and sweet gum trees overgrown with the long peculiar moss of the country that flaunts in the breeze like funeral weeds. On Saturday night, while I was planting a battery, a huge owl — one of the species that make these swamps their home — flapped his wings right over me, and roosting in the tree above my head gave an unearthly screech and wound up with a laugh and prolonged ha! ha! ha! so much like the utterance of a human being as almost to startle me. I took it for an omen. Where will my next Christmas be, where shall I make my next New Year's call? The last has been an eventful year to me; for the past nine months each day has been filled with thrilling incidents. I should like a little rest. I should like to lie down and be quiet. I should like to have some one soothe my brow, and make me feel as if I were a little child again. That is a beautiful idea in Scripture, where we are taught that all must become as little children, before they can enter into the kingdom of heaven. It is almost heaven to feel like a little child on earth. But now my business is to slay and destroy, to exercise all my intellect in the destruction of human life and property.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 251-3

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, December 14, 1862

CAMP ON WOLF RIVER, NEAR MEMPHIS, Dec. 14, 1862.

The papers, I suppose, have told you what we have been about. My regiment was the first to cross the Tallahatchie. We have marching orders for the 18th, four days to rest and get ready, and then for Vicksburg or Jackson, or what God pleases. We shall have an active winter campaign. My health has been good until within a day or two. I have recurrence of the infernal dysentery. I suppose the dampness in some way strikes upon my bowels, and I could get no brandy. Whiskey, and very bad whiskey at that, is all we can procure in the army, and it is my abomination.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 249

Thursday, May 22, 2014

54th Ohio Infantry

Organized at Camp Dennison, Ohio, October, 1861. Left State for Paducah, Ky., February 17, 1862. Attached to District of Paducah, Ky., to March, 1862. 2nd Brigade, 5th Division, Army of the Tennessee, to May, 1862. 1st Brigade, 5th Division, Army of the Tennessee, to July, 1862. 1st Brigade, 5th Division, District of Memphis, Tenn., to November, 1862. 1st Brigade, 5th Division, District of Memphis, Tenn., Right Wing 13th Army Corps (Old), Dept. of the Tennessee, November, 1862. 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, Right Wing 13th Army Corps, to December, 1862. 2nd Brigade, 2nd Division, Sherman's Yazoo Expedition, to January, 1863. 2nd Brigade, 2nd Division, 15th Army Corps, Army of the Tennessee, to July, 1865. Dept. of Arkansas to August, 1865.

SERVICE. – Moved from Paducah, Ky., to Savannah, Tenn., March 6-12, 1862. Expedition to Yellow Creek, Miss., and occupation of Pittsburg Landing, Tenn., March 14-17. Battle of Shiloh, Tenn., April 6-7. Advance on and siege of Corinth, Miss., April 29-May 30. Russell's House, near Corinth, May 17. March to Memphis, Tenn., via LaGrange, Grand Junction and Holly Springs, June 1-July 21. Duty at Memphis till November. Expedition from Memphis to Coldwater and Hermando, Miss., September 8-13. Grant's Central Mississippi Campaign, "Tallahatchie March," November 26-December 13. Sherman's Yazoo Expedition December 20, 1862, to January 3, 1863. Chickasaw Bayou December 26-28, 1862. Chickasaw Bluff December 29. Expedition to Arkansas Post, Ark., January 3-10, 1863. Assault and capture of Fort Hindman, Arkansas Post, January 10-11. Moved to Young's Point, La., January 17-21, and duty there till March. Expedition up Rolling Fork via Muddy, Steele's and Black Bayous and Deer Creek, March 14-27. Demonstrations on Haines and Drumgould's Bluffs April 29-May 2. Moved to join army in rear of Vicksburg, Miss., May 2-14, via Richmond and Grand Gulf. Battle of Champion's Hill May 16. Siege of Vicksburg, Miss., May 18-July 4. Assaults on Vicksburg May 19 and 22. Advance on Jackson, Miss., July 4-10. Siege of Jackson, Miss., July 10-17. Camp at Big Black till September 26. Moved to Memphis, Tenn.. thence march to Chattanooga, Tenn., September 26-November 21. Operations on Memphis & Charleston Railroad in Alabama October 20-29. Bear Creek, Tuscumbia, October 27. Chattanooga-Ringgold Campaign November 23-27. Tunnel Hill November 23-24. Mission Ridge November 25. Pursuit to Graysville November 26-27. March to relief of Knoxville November 28-December 8. March to Chattanooga, Tenn., thence to Bridgeport, Ala., Bellefonte, Ala., and Larkinsville, Ala., December 13-31. Duty at Larkinsville, Ala., to May 1, 1864. Expedition toward Rome, Ga., January 25-February 5. Atlanta (Ga.) Campaign May 1 to September 8. Demonstration on Resaca May 8-13. Near Resaca May 13. Battle of Resaca May 14-15. Movements on Dallas May 18-25. Operations on line of Pumpkin Vine Creek and battles about Dallas, New Hope Church and Allatoona Hills May 25-June 5. Operations about Marietta and against Kenesaw Mountain June 10-July 2. Assault on Kenesaw June 27. Nickajack Creek July 2-5. Chattahoochie River July 6-17. Battle of Atlanta July 22. Siege of Atlanta July 22-August 25. Ezra Chapel, Hood's 2nd sortie, July 28. Flank movement on Jonesboro August 25-30. Battle of Jonesboro August 31-September 1. Lovejoy Station September 2-6. Operations in North Georgia and North Alabama against Hood September 29-November 3. March to the sea November 15-December 10. Siege of Savannah December 10-21. Fort McAllister December 13. Campaign of the Carolinas January to April, 1865. Salkehatchie Swamps, S.C., February 2-5. Cannon's Bridge, South Edisto River, February 9. North Edisto River, February 11-13. Columbia February 16-17. Battle of Bentonville, N. C., March 20-21. Occupation of Goldsboro March 24. Advance on Raleigh April 10-14. Bennett's House April 26. Surrender of Johnston and his army. March to Washington, D.C., via Richmond, Va., April 29-May 19. Grand Review May 24. Moved to Louisville, Ky., June 2, thence to Little Rock, Ark., and duty there till August. Mustered out August 15, 1865.

Regiment lost during service 4 Officers and 83 Enlisted men killed and mortally wounded and 3 Officers and 143 Enlisted men by disease. Total 233.

SOURCE: Frederick H. Dyer, A Compendium of the War of the Rebellion, Part 3, p. 1522

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Helen Smith, September 15, 1862, 2 a.m.


CAMP ON HERNANDO ROAD, NEAR MEMPHIS,
2 O'CLOCK A.M., Sept. 15, 1862.
MY DEAR SISTER:

At eleven o'clock last night as I was about to “turn in” an orderly came dashing up through the rain with despatches advising me that the Brigadier-General commanding had reliable information that our pickets were to be attacked this night or morning, rather, by the enemy's cavalry, and ordering me to double my picket guard. Being some distance from our main army and my outside pickets being three miles distant from me, and having a six-gun battery under my command attached to my regiment, after giving my orders and disposing of my forces, I feel indisposed for sleep and know not how I can better put in the residue of the night than by writing to my dear sister Helen, whose affectionate letter of the 8th inst. with inclosure is now before me, being this day received.

I send you a picture of General Sherman and staff, numbered thus —

1. Lieutenant Taylor, 5th Ohio Cavalry, Aide-de-Camp.
2. Major J. H. Hammond, Assistant Adjutant-General.
3. Captain Dayton, 6th Ohio Infantry, Aide-de-Camp.
4. Major Taylor, of Taylor's Battery, Chief of Artillery.
5. Capt. J. Condict Smith, Division Quartermaster.
6. General Sherman.
7. Col. Thos. Kilby Smith, of 54th Ohio Inf. Zouaves.
8. Captain Shirk, U.S.N., Commander of gunboat Lexington, which threw the shells at Shiloh.
9. Major Hartshorne, Division Surgeon.
10. Col. W. H. H. Taylor, 5th Ohio Cavalry.
11. Capt. James McCoy, 54th Ohio Inf. Zouaves, Aidede-Camp.
12. Major Sanger, 55th Illinois Inf., Aide-de-Camp.

These, with two exceptions, were together and did service at the battle of Shiloh; the names of some of them will adorn the pages of history. The Quartermaster looms up among them like Saul among the prophets, a head and shoulder above the rest. He stands six feet four and a half inches high in his stocking feet, and I have a private in the ranks in my regiment who is three inches taller than he.

Tell mother she need not be alarmed about Sherman's sanity; his mind is sound, his intellect vigorous. He is a man for the times. His enemies are seeking to destroy him. The whole article she sends is replete with falsehood. No city in the Union has a better police, is more accurately governed than Memphis. It is sufficient for me to say to mother that the whole article is false from beginning to end. Tell dear mother I will write her shortly; that meanwhile, to be of good cheer. The game of war is fluctuating — their turn now, ours perhaps to-morrow.

And all night long I have waited and watched; the gray dawn is now streaking the eastern sky. No warning shot from the picket guard, all is still, all quiet, as though smiling peace still blessed the land. I have written and paced the sentry's beat at intervals; now sounds the reveille\ The stirring fife and prompt sharp sound of the drum break upon the morning air. The camp is all aroused. My labor for the night is done. Its result a copy of verses and not very interesting letter. It will bring proof, however, that I have thought of you, that for the whole night at least you have been in my thoughts till dawn.

I don't think that Cincinnati is in immediate danger from Smith; he will probably retire. His mission was to watch Morgan at the Cumberland Gap. It was so easy a thing to do, that he made his advance farther than was intended. Bragg is the general to watch. He and Buell will, I think, it is likely, have a big battle. If he is victorious, good-by, Cincinnati. Anyhow I must think she is a doomed city.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 242-4

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Eliza Walter Smith, August 20, 1862

CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS, Aug. 20, 1862.

MY DEAR MOTHER:

Our army here is now being thoroughly disciplined. Parades and reviews are of daily occurrence. On Saturday, as Chief of Staff to General Sherman, I witnessed a fine review of General Hurlbut's division. Yesterday our own brigade was reviewed. It is considered the most soldierly body of troops in the Army of the Tennessee. Our Brigadier-General is a terrible martinet, but well calculated to make good soldiers. I assure you, a parade of such a brigade as ours is an imposing sight.

I send you my “carte.” Can you recognize any likeness to the little whitehead who clung round your knee lang syne?  He’s had some rough encounters with the world that opened so bright upon him, since those days at Dorchester. The image of his young mother is ever before his mind, her dear bright eyes still gaze into his. He dreams he still feels the impress of her kiss.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 236

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith, August 14, 1862

CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS, Aug. 14, 1862.

Your letter of the 8th inst. was received two days ago, and just while I was preparing to act as Chief of General Sherman's Staff in a grand review to be made of Hurlbut's division. To-day our brigade, which is considered the crack brigade of the army here, is to be received; in this I have, of course, to lead my regiment.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 236

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith, August 14, 1862

CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS, Aug. 14, 1862.

Major Fisher of my regiment has been appointed Assistant Provost Marshal of Memphis, which leaves me with the whole regiment on my hands without assistance, and of course adds to my cares and responsibilities.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 236

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith, August 8, 1862

HEADQUARTERS 54TH REGT. O. V. INF.,
CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS, Aug. 8, 1862.

Your letter of the 1st inst. has just been received. I cannot understand why eight days should be consumed in the transit of mail matter when the individual requires only two to pass over the same ground. The army, however, is always scolding the mails, and perhaps without reason. We ought to be thankful for any intelligence, however tardy.

Our tents are pitched in pleasant places near the city, plenty of shade and pure water. The health of my men would improve if they would practise self-denial in food; but the temptation in the shape of green corn, fresh fruit and vegetables is too much for their frail nature to withstand. If I can get them safely through September, they will be in good training for a fall and winter campaign. My own diarrhoea has never left me — I suppose never will. I have lost flesh and strength, but I do not suffer save from the inconvenience and loss of rest at night. Sometimes it is checked slightly, but I think it is chronic and beyond the power of medicine. No furloughs or leaves of absence are granted from this division of the army, on account of sickness or for any other cause. I have asked furloughs for officers and men who have died, and whose lives, I am assured by the surgeons, might have been saved by change of air and alleviation from the miseries of the camp, but never with any success. I would not ask a furlough for myself, I would not take one if offered; but it would be worse than useless to ask. It will be long before I shall see family or friend. This hard, pitiless war will never come to an end in my lifetime. Last night three of my officers, who were badly wounded at Shiloh, returned. Two of them were shot very severely, one having his kidney, lung, and liver pierced with a Minie-ball; and yet, strange to say, he is here to-day reported for duty, while men who got only flesh wounds died. I thought they would not return to their regiment, but they felt the peculiar fascination that few are able to resist. Their welcome by their old comrades in arms was very affecting. Strong men embraced and wept. Those who had stood shoulder to shoulder during the two terrible days of that bloody battle, were hooped with steel, with bands stronger than steel; and those who might have been discharged, the scars of whose honorable wounds were yet raw, forsook friends and the comforts of home to come to their regiment, to the society of their companions. This is the great impelling feeling, though duty, patriotism, and “death's couriers, Fame and Honor, called them to the field again.” No officer whose honor is dear to him can be away now; absence from post is a burning shame and will be a lasting disgrace.

It is not probable that Sherman will be ordered to Vicksburg for some time, if at all. Meanwhile the drill and the discipline of the troops is rigidly enforced. Brig.-Gen. Morgan L. Smith, under whose command the “54th” is brigaded, is a martinet almost to tyranny.

I do not deem it beyond the range of the probabilities of this war that Cincinnati be attacked. Buell will have his hands full to prevent it. The city would be a tempting prize to soldiers.

You had better have an eye on this matter in the making of your fall arrangements. I don't want to write that which will give you uneasiness. I do not regard it as at all certain that Bragg would push his columns up between Curtis and Buell; but it is certain that there is a good deal of disaffection in Kentucky. If Richmond is evacuated — and disease and want of commissary stores may compel this — then desperate men in large guerilla bands may precipitate themselves upon a city so far as I know undefended. The South is a united people; they have over one million and a half of fighting men, their soldiers are better drilled and better disciplined than ours, they are better armed and fight as well, and above all it is far easier for them to keep their regiments filled up to the maximum number, than it is for us. Every man, who is able to fight, is willing to fight. The women, the children, the old, the feeble, take pride in the army, and cheer those on to glory whom they think are winning it in the defence of their homes, their firesides, and the heritage of their fathers.

I saw a sweet little girl the other day the very image of Bettie and very much like her in manners; of course I courted and petted her, notwithstanding she was a most bitter little “Secesh.” It was most amusing to hear her philippics, but I could not help loving her for Bettie's sake, and the little witch, as evidence that I had won her favor, though a “Yank,” came with her father to my camp. She is the first child I have spoken to for six long months, if I make an exception of the occasional pickaninny, an insect with which this sunny South abounds. It was very amusing on the march to see whole flocks of them, generally nude, by the roadside in the care of some ancient mother of the herd.

Enclosed please find an effusion from the pen of Col. Tom Worthington, a brother of the General, with whom I have become quite intimate; the lines were almost if not quite impromptu, written and handed me just after the battle, though since, I believe, published. The allusion to the azalia is very happy; the whole air was redolent with their perfume on the day of the battle, and more than once I caught a handful of them, while my horse was treading among the dead.

This afternoon I am invited to a grand review of the 8th Missouri, and to meet all the field officers of the division at General Sherman's headquarters. Within two or three days we present General Sherman with a sword, and I am expected to make the presentation speech at a grand dinner, at which I suppose nearly all the officers, certainly all the field and staff, will be present. As I remarked of General Smith, so Sherman is a martinet, but he is a soldier, every inch, and as brave as they make them. I fought by his side all day from seven o'clock in the morning till dark on Monday, sat by him when his horse was shot, and saw his hand grazed by a cannon ball. He's every inch a soldier and a gentleman and a chieftain. Colonel Worthington don't like him, which is strange, for they are both West Pointers, but the fact is the Colonel is a little jealous that he has not a higher command.

My prince of horses, Bellfounder, is in splendid health, his neigh rings out long and loud whenever he sees me. You shall ride him if he ever gets home.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 232-5

Monday, May 5, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Eliza Walter Smith, July 23, 1862

HEADQUARTERS 54TH REGT. O. V. INF.,
MEMPHIS, July 23, 1862.
MY DEAR MOTHER:

I seize the briefest moment to advise you of my health and well being.

We marched into Memphis day before yesterday; shall occupy the city and probably remain for some time. This will be the new base of operations. I found a heavy mail waiting me, and among my letters was overjoyed to see one from you. You may well be sure it was the first I tore open to read, and it was read before I had dismounted, though I had been in the saddle without food or drink since two o'clock in the morning, and it was twelve meridian, under as hot a sun as you can conceive it possible for one to exist under. The mercury stood at 101° in the shade that morning at seven o'clock. The only evil result of that day's march, however, so far as I am concerned, is the loss of the skin of my nose, which was completely peeled off. I can't answer your affectionate letter now, but will do so in a day or two, if I can get an hour's leisure. I have been constantly on the go, our troops are not yet encamped, and as Officer of the Day, my duties have been exceedingly onerous.

I should be glad to come home, but a furlough is a thing impossible; Sherman won't listen to a request even from a sick or dying man; certainly not from one who is at all useful in the service. Even if it could be obtained, I should not like to take a furlough now for many reasons. I am in for the war and the war will be a long one.

Memphis has been an opulent city, laid out in magnificent proportions, containing superb houses, elegant grounds, etc. The people who are left are almost all “Secesh.” The males between the ages of eighteen and forty-five years are ordered off; to-morrow is their last day of grace; consternation, of course, prevails. The headquarters are besieged with ladies asking protection for themselves and families; a very large proportion of them are wives of officers in the Confederate army. They are all bitter as snakeroot, but nevertheless demand, not ask, that protection their natural protectors were unable or unwilling to give.

Few of these can yet realize that war has now commenced in right good earnest; that hereafter desolation and havoc will follow the wake of our army. Heretofore we have preached peace, and sought with the inhabitants of the country through which we have marched, even upon the battlefield, to cultivate friendly relations, warring only with the men-at-arms, fighting to-day with the owners of the property which we detail forces to protect to-morrow. Our famishing and thirsty soldiers as they toiled under the burning sun in the summer days' march have been prevented almost at the point of the bayonet from assuaging their thirst at the roadside well, from pulling an onion from the garden or seizing an apple from the bough on the premises of the men armed and after their heart's best blood. Now this will all be changed. We shall “burn, sink, and destroy!” We shall teach these ingrates that we can punish with a rod of iron, that we can not only meet and vanquish them on the field, but that we have the nerve and the will to sweep them and all they hold dear clean off from the face of the earth.

I hear they are most thoroughly panic-stricken in Cincinnati; that the enemy have been encamped at Florence, only nine miles in front, and that they have some reasons to expect a raid.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 231-2

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Col. Thomas Kilby Smith to Mrs. Eliza Walter Smith, July 28, 1862

CAMP NEAR MEMPHIS, July 28, 1862.
MY DEAR MOTHER:

I wonder sometimes that I do not lose myself in the frequent flittings I have made; as to the properties, the belongings, they are narrowed down to the smallest possible compass. My little leather travelling trunk is my bed, board, lodging, library, and secretary. Its key long disappeared; and as it is strapped up, I bid an affectionate adieu to all its contents, in the firm belief that I shall never see them again.

Soldiers are great thieves on principle; when they can't steal from the enemy, they circumvent each other to keep in practice, taking that which, “not enriching them,” causes, in its loss, their comrades to swear worse than “our army in Flanders.” One by one my shirts, drawers, socks, gloves, boots, handkerchiefs, books have disappeared. The last theft committed upon me was amusing from its boldness. We were encamped on the edge of an immense cotton field near a grove before “Holly Springs,” on our second march there, when we shelled the city. It was terribly hot; I was longing for something to read, when Stephen most opportunely produced from his bag a most excellent copy of Byron, that I had taken from Bragg's quarters at Corinth. I had entirely forgotten the book, which the boy had boned for his own use, and was overjoyed to get hold of anything to relieve ennui and the deadly tedium of waiting orders with the thermometer at an hundred and upwards, so I seized “My Lord,” and forthwith repaired to a log in the shade; but just as I was composing myself to read, a chattering above made me look up to see a fox squirrel and a jay bird fight. I drew my pistol, aimed at the squirrel, and in that brief moment the book was spirited away by some lurking vagabond who probably sold it for a glass of grog. For three long summer days I cursed that thief. Last night our regimental surgeon hung his trousers on the fence before his tent; they vanished just as he turned his back, and being his sole remaining pair, left him disconsolate. I can tell you many an amusing instance of just such purloinings as vexatious as they are ludicrous.

Still, barring attack sometimes talked of, it being a new base of operations, I think we shall hardly begin a fall campaign before the last of September or the first of October. I also acknowledged receipt of your most affectionate letter of the 4th inst., found here with quite a budget of mail. You say you look only for Halleck’s army. Events multiplying and succeed with lightning-like rapidity. Since the date of your letter Halleck has been given in charge of all the armies of the Union, et nous verrons.

The result of this struggle no human mind can foretell; the farther I penetrate the bowels of this Southern land, the more fully I am convinced that its inhabitants are a people not to be whipped. The unanimity of feeling among them is wonderful. The able-bodied men are all in the army. We find none en route but the old, the feeble, the sick, the women. These last dauntless to the last. Those the army have left behind have learned that there is nothing for them to fear from us. We shower gold and benefits which they accept with a greed and rapacity . . .

Children are reared to curse us. The most strange and absurd stories are told of us, and stranger still, they are believed. I have been gazed at as if I were a wild beast in a menagerie. The slaves thought we were black. We are scorned, though feared, hated, maligned. Seventeen hundred people have left Memphis within three days rather than take the oath of allegiance. Leaving, they have sacrificed estate, wealth, luxury, and the majority of them have gone into the Confederate army. There is scarce a lady in the city; the few who are left, our open and avowed enemies. We shall always whip them in the open field, we may cut them off in detail; we shall never by whipping them restore the Union. If some miraculous interposition of Divine Providence does not put an end to the unnatural strife, we shall fight as long as there is a Southerner left to draw a sword. Europe is powerless to intervene. England may take sides, but she can't grow cotton in the face of a Federal army. France, who is now equipping her navies, who by similarity of language and habit has close affiliations with Louisiana, who is eagerly stretching out her hand for colonies, and to whose arms the Southern Mississippi planters would eagerly look for protection — France must beware; Russia is no uninterested spectator. The first step towards intervention is the match to kindle the blaze of war all over Europe. The South would gladly colonize; it is her only hope for redemption. Congress has forced a new issue. Slavery is doomed. New levies must be forced. Three hundred thousand men from the North will not obey the President's call and volunteer. Drafting on the one side and conscription on the other. The result is plain — a military dictatorship, then consolidation. The days of the Republic are numbered. But a little while and the strong right arm is the only protection to property, the value of property existing only in name.

These thoughts are gloomy, but I must confess there is but little to encourage one who perils his life for his country's honor.

You flatter me when you say my letters are interesting to you. Save to you, or to wife, I am inclined to think there would be found in these letters little worth perusal. They have almost invariably been written while upon the march, in bivouac, often behind intrenchments, right in front of the enemy, and only to reassure you of my continued safety. I continually regret that the pen of the ready writer has not been given me, with industry commensurate. I might then have made pencillings by the wayside, through the wilderness and the camp, worth more than passing notice. For four long months my life has been rife in incident; the circumstance that would have made an era to date from in times that are past, being so rapidly followed by one of more startling nature, as to drive it from the memory, and so the drama of life has gone on, the thrill of excitement a daily sensation.

I had become somewhat familiarized with camp life and its surroundings before I undertook to recruit my own regiment at Camp Dennison. The fall and winter passed away quietly enough in barracks, though it was no light task with me, to recruit, organize, and drill a regiment of new levies.

Suddenly and before spring was opened, marching orders came and we found ourselves hurried into the field, without arms or adequate camp equipage. The first issue of arms I had condemned as unreliable and returned to the State arsenal. Within a week of our arrival at Paducah a detachment from my regiment with borrowed arms had taken possession of Columbus. There our colors waved for the first time over an enemy's fortification, and I may say, par parenthese, this of these colors, that their history is rather peculiar. The regiment never had its regimental colors; the flag we carry was presented by a Masonic lodge of Cleveland to a company I recruited in that city. It floats over me as I write, and I thank God is unstained by dishonor. It waved at Columbus, at Chickasaw Bluff; at Shiloh its guard of four men were all killed, its bearer crushed and killed by the falling of a tree-top, cut off by solid shot. The staff was broken and the flag tangled in the branches; there I dismounted for the first and only time during that day to rescue the old flag, which I took under a sheet of flame. I rode upon it the rest of that day, slept upon it at night, and on Monday flaunted it in the face of the Crescent City Guards. The old flag floated at Russell's house. We were in reserve in that battle, but under fire. It was foremost in all the advances upon Corinth, and the first planted inside the intrenchments. Since the evacuation of Corinth, on detached service, it has been unfurled at all the important points; at Lagrange, at Holly Springs, at Moscow, at Ammon's Bridge, at Lafayette, at Germantown, at White's Station, and now at Memphis. But, to return, we received our arms at Paducah, and were terribly exposed while encamped there. From thence we were transported on steamboats to Chickasaw Bluffs on the celebrated Tennessee expedition. For nine days we were crowded close on small steamboats, and the first day we disembarked were compelled to wade streams breast high, the weather terribly cold. We were driven back by high water. We again embarked and landed at Pittsburg Landing. There my men began to feel the effects of the terrible exposure to which they had been subjected. But no time was allowed to recuperate, constant and severe marches by night and by day kept the army on the qui vive. I can assure you there was no surprise at Shiloh. I made a tremendous night march only the Thursday before, of which I have heretofore given you some account; was ordered upon a march that very Sunday morning, and was setting picket guard till twelve o'clock of Saturday night. Well, then came the great battle and the burying of the dead, and here I will refer you to an autograph order of General Sherman which I enclose; he will doubtless be a great man in time to come, and it will be worth while to preserve as a memorial of the times. . . . After the burial of the dead and a brief breathing spell in a charnel-house, we were ordered forward; then came more skirmishing, then the advance upon Corinth by regular parallels, the felling of enormous trees, to form abattis, the ditch, the rampart, often thrown up by candle-light. Scouting, picketing, advancing in force, winning ground inch by inch, bringing up the heavy siege guns; at last the evacuation, the flight, the pursuit, then the occupation of the country. Now my labors were not lessened, though my responsibilities increased. I was often upon detached service, far away from the main army, as at Ammon's Bridge, where I lay for ten days, and where I had frequent skirmishes, taking many prisoners. There I made acquaintance with the planters, and finally, when I left, destroyed the structure, by chopping it away and by burning, bringing upon my head, doubtless, the anathemas of all the country-side. There is a portion of Tennessee and Mississippi where they know me, and where I think my memory will be green for some time to come. And now I am at Memphis or rather in the suburbs, that I assure you are beautiful. The shrubbery is splendidly luxurious, the most exquisite flowers, magnificent houses and grounds and a splendid country about it. I do not wonder its people have made boast of their sunny South; no more beautiful land is spread out to the sun, but now devastation and ruin stares it in the face. I have met but few of the people, those I have seen are sufficiently polite; but it is easy to see we are not welcome guests, that the Union sentiment expressed, is expressed pro hac vice. If I stay here long I will write you more about them. Thus you have a brief synopsis of the history of my regiment in the field; unfortunately, it has no historian in its ranks; all connected with it have been satisfied with doing their duty, without recording their acts. Thus while we see in every paper, officers and regiments lauded and praised, the most insignificant performances magnified into glowing acts of heroism, the most paltry skirmishes into great battles, we find ourselves unknown. I do not regard courage in battle as a very extraordinary quality, but fortitude on the march and in the trenches, in the endurance of the thousand vicissitudes that attach to such a campaign as we have gone through, is above all praise. My men, now sadly reduced in numbers — for dysentery, diarrhoea, camp fever, exposure, to say nothing of wounds, have done their work — have shown this fortitude in a superior degree. They have been a forlorn hope, have always led the van, have never missed a march, a battle, or a skirmish, but their history will never be written, the most of them will go to their graves unhonored and unsung. But I am wearying you with too long a letter, written not under the most favorable auspices. I enclose you a report from Sherman partly mutilated before I received it.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 225-30