Friday, June 6, 2014

Colonel Thomas Kilby Smith to Elizabeth Budd Smith and Eliza Walter Smith, January 30, 1863

Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Division,
Fifteenth Army Corps,
“Young's Point,” Before Vicksburg, Jan. 30, 1863.

My Dear Wife And Mother:

I have your letters, mother's of the 15th and 18th and wife's of 22d inst. I can imagine your anxiety, and regret you could not sooner have heard of my safety and well being. But you were not born to be a soldier's wife and mother. You must keep up brave hearts; none of us can die but once; as well in the battle as in bed. I hope my life may be spared to comfort you for many years to come, and assure you that I will not unnecessarily, or otherwise than in the strict performance of my duty, expose a life dearer to others than it deserves, far dearer to them than to me, and you must write me cheeringly. Give me words of comfort and good cheer. We need comfort, for we are in a pretty tight place at the present writing; camped just in front of that famous ditch of Butler's that the papers made so much fuss about last year and in the full view of Vicksburg, about two miles, including the width of the river, from my tent. As I write, its white towers and steeples and window panes gleam in the light of the setting sun. It's the Gibraltar of America, and we shall have a good time taking it, I guess; but nil desperandum; we shall try. I believe I wrote you some account of the affairs at Chickasas Bayou, and at Post Arkansas. My troops behaved remarkably well in both engagements, though I lost rather more than my share. I stand well enough with the army here, but have not had the luck to do anything brilliant enough to make me brigadier, except so far as they can give it to me by brevet. I do most earnestly want the rank, and think I have honestly earned it, but suppose I must exercise patience and wait. My health is pretty good. Indeed I always feel well while the weather is cool and the past three or four days have been lovely. In the immediate personal superintendence of large works, I am in the saddle constantly.

My horses are peculiar, and I ride hard in battle and latterly with a large command have had to spread myself over the field. This was a good deal the case at Chickasas. Morgan L. went over almost the first pop, while I had run the gauntlet half a dozen times before him and was over the same ground where he fell for hours afterwards and always under fire. The newspaper reports are all false; there is scarcely any coloring of truth to them. I am always confounded with Morgan L. and his brother Giles A. I am utterly lost in the obscurity of the name. My only salvo is in the official reports; there alone can I be identified, and in an official report the bare detail alone is permitted. I have sent you two from my immediate commanding officer. General Sherman's I have not yet seen, but am told that I receive therein flattering mention. I have tried hard to win my spurs, but my heart has been made sick by the terrible injustice of the public prints. I have nobody in particular to blame; I don't know that I have a single enemy among the newspaper reporters; yet I am always ignored. You must take the published stories of the correspondents with very great allowance. They are never eye-witnesses of the scenes they attempt to describe. This I assure you is true, and a moment's reflection will give you the reason why. They have no business in battle; there is no position they could occupy. In the din and confusion and smoke and hurly burly, the assault, the charge, the cannonading, the rattling of musketry, the changing front of long lines of troops, the rapid advance, the quick retreat for change of position, the trampling of cavalry, and artillery and orderlies' horses — where would the newspaper reporter, with his pen and wit or pencil and paper be? No, they are far off to the rear, picking up items from stragglers, and runaways and the riff-raff of the camp and army; with just enough knowledge of the ground and the main facts to form a basis, they draw upon their imagination for fancy sketches, and paint their words in glaring colors. My regiment did go in where none dared to follow, and by my superior officer was withdrawn after the performance of the most heroic valor. It was the astonishment of the army, and no mention is made of it. The 8th Missouri was not under fire at any time during the fight at Chickasas. Its former colonel, the present major-general, was wounded by a sharpshooter before the engagement fairly began. See the reports and the absurdity. But I won't dilate upon what you cannot well understand, and in which your heart cannot possibly be.1
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1 Readers of Field Marshal, Lord Roberts's interesting book, will see that trouble with the correspondents of newspapers besets military commanders in these later days also. There is great similarity in the expression of his views in relation to this subject in his account of the Afghanistan campaign.

"No one could be more anxious than I was to have all details of the campaign made public. I considered it due to the people of Great Britain that the press Correspondents should have every opportunity for giving the fullest and most faithful accounts of what might happen while the army was in the field . . .  What to my mind was so reprehensible in this Correspondent's conduct was the publication in time of war, and consequent excitement and anxiety at home, of incorrect and sensational statements founded on information derived from irresponsible and uninformed sources, and the alteration of telegrams after they had been countersigned by the recognized authority, the result of which could only be to keep the public in a state of apprehension regarding the force in the field, and what is even more to be deprecated, to weaken the confidence of the troops in their commander." — Forty-One Years in India, vol. ii., p. 166.

SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 266-8

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