Headquarters District Of South Alabama,
Fort Gaines, Ala., April 24, 1865.
My Dear Mother:
You must not feel vexed, as you say you are, in reference to
Carr's getting my command.
The rough and tumble of an active campaign in this climate
at this season of the year, with my shattered constitution, would be fatal. The
wear and tear of the last four years has told upon me, and I am constantly
warned to guard against exposure. Here I am comparatively comfortable, and
though I cannot hope while exposed to the baleful influence of malaria to be
well, I may ward off prostrating sickness. So that, take the matter in all its
bearings, it is probably for the best that I should have been disposed of as I
am for the present.
You say in reference to the fall of Richmond that you “cannot
but feel the key is reached and rebellion unsealed.” It may be that it is
unsealed; but it is not yet crushed, and you need not lay the flattering
unction to your soul that peace is at hand, or that the rebellion is crushed. I
notice by the Northern papers that the people are drunk with joy and jubilee.
Instead of maintaining a quiet dignity, tumultuous pressure has been made to
grasp the enemy by the hand and to kill the fatted calf and welcome the
prodigal back. The rebels laugh in their sleeves. The North has not yet learned
how to make war upon its adversary. But I don't intend to croak or play the
bird of ill omen; the signs of the times are pregnant; millions of people in
this nation are going up and down smarting with a sense of personal injury,
mourning brothers, sons, husbands, fathers, sweathearts slain, homesteads
burned, altars desecrated, property destroyed. There is no peace with these in
this generation. In my judgment, there is just one hope for us now, and that is
a war with a foreign power that would have the effect of uniting the
belligerents. I have now prisoners with me, three generals and their staffs,
Liddell, Cockrel, and Thomas. I guarantee that I can enlist all or the major
part of them to go with me to Mexico or Canada to fight under the stars and
stripes. But they won't go home to be contented. Neither men nor women will
consent to go back to ruined plantations, depopulated cities, abandoned
villages, and, without the aid of the peculiar institution, essay to rebuild,
reconquer the wilderness, recreate a fortune without grumbling, and the
bitterness of spirit will soon find occasion for fresh outbreak
SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of
Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 391-2
