Headquarters Second Brigade, Second Div.,
Fifteenth A. C,
Camp Before Vicksburg, April 27, 1863.
My Dear Mother:
“Man proposes and God disposes.” In my letter of Saturday, I
advised you all that we should march to-day, and that night, the heavens opened
and the rains descended and the floods came and we remain in statu quo. Last
night certain boats ran the blockade of Vicksburg in the midst of a tremendous
thunder storm and as the cannon from the enemy's batteries belched forth death
and destruction, the elemental war began and heaven's artillery pealed. All
night the earth was convulsed, the ear deafened with sound and fury, and to-day
the clouds are weeping, the ground lies drenched, and the trees hang their
branches as if in despair. The storm is the forerunner of certain lengthened
rains which may be expected here at this season, and will retard, if not materially
disarrange, the plans heretofore matured. In my former letters I have indicated
my want of confidence in their results, and have not yet seen fit to change my
opinion. The order of march is rescinded and we await here further orders. You
note in the papers frequent mention of the blockade and the running of the
same, and for your edification, I will essay some description of what it means,
for on one or two nights I have been close within sight and range on shore, and
four nights ago in company with General Blair and some naval officers went down
with the gunboats on a small steamboat tug, as it is called (literally a “tug
of war”), to the scene of the conflict. The ground we occupy, as I have before
informed you, is in the shape of a long and narrow horseshoe, and the distance
from Young's Point, a landing directly opposite the mouth of the Yazoo River,
to the furtherest point of toe of the horseshoe is about six miles. Immediately
in front of this latter point are the Court House and principal buildings of
Vicksburg, which is situate upon one of a range of high bluffs, one hundred and
fifty feet above our level; these bluffs extend around us in the shape of a
vast amphitheatre, and at regular intervals their heights are crowned with
batteries, while at their base are placed what are called water batteries. A
battery, as it is termed, is usually applied to a collection of several guns.
The term is also used in speaking of the arrangements made of a parapet to fire
over it or through openings in it. I don't want to bore you with
technicalities, but a knowledge of them is so often erroneously presupposed
that many otherwise good descriptions lose their force. Upon and around this
amphitheatre, then, you must imagine one hundred batteries, and as they change from
point to point about one hundred and sixty guns. The calibre of these guns is
from six pounds, that of the light field piece, to one hundred pound Parrots;
of these latter there are but two or three. The major part of their metal, so
far as we can ascertain, is from ten to thirty pounds. Now you must know that
the pointblank range of six-pounder guns is about six hundred yards, and that
of twelve-pounder guns about seven hundred yards; that the chances of hitting a
mark are less with pieces of small than of large calibre, owing to windage, the
effect of wind, etc. That the rate of firing is about forty seconds a shot for
field pieces, and about one minute for twelve-pounders, but that when the enemy
is close at hand and deliberate aim not necessary, two rounds may be fired per
minute. With these explanations you may have some faint idea of what running
the blockade means, when I further inform you that our fleet of transports has
been lying from Young's Point along shore down stream to within a short distance
of the mouth of the canal; that they have been guarded by gunboats lying at the
mouth and a short distance up the Yazoo; that when it is proposed to go around,
a dark night is selected or sometimes in a moonlight night after the moon has
set. The boats having been protected all round the machinery, in front, and
along the side presented to the enemy, with cotton bales, bales of hay, etc.,
are divested as far as possible of their crew, a full head of steam is had on,
and paddling slowly and cautiously till they arrive at the bend, full power is
put on, and they go by as best they can, one at a time. The enemy is always on
the lookout, and the signal gun is followed by continuous roar from all till
the boats pass below Warrenton, five miles from the bend and the terminus of
their fortifications. The heavens are lighted up by the beacon fires of the
enemy and what are called calcium lights, so constructed as to throw broad and
bright reflections on the water, and so point out the passing boats. The flashes
of their cannon make almost a continuous line of bright light, the booming
reports shake the ground and water, and make boats and houses tremble as by an
earthquake. If the transports are convoyed, as has twice been done, by
gunboats, these reply, and if the boats are struck, as frequently happens, the
cotton is fired by exploding shells, bundles of bales blazing with lurid light
are cast into the water, floating for miles, and whirled by the eddies. The
river now appears one broad stream of flame, a boat is sunk, one or two are
burning, sailors are seen making their way to shore, on boards or boats. The
riflemen of the enemy line the shore, and the sharp report of small pieces with
the waspish sing of the balls, is occasionally distinguished above all the din.
They shoot at those endeavoring to escape; they fire whole volleys at the
broadside of the steamer in the hope of killing one man. The pickets on our own
lines pace rapidly upon their beat, they are within range, the reserves are
upon the shore to give succor to the drowning; outside of this hell all is
blackness and the darkness of night. These boats, in fine, go round; the others
are helpless, hopeless wrecks. Day dawns, and the river is banked with smoke of
the conflict. A body floats by, the entrails are all torn out; it is the pilot,
who was cut across the belly by a passing shell. Few lives are lost, for few of
the living attempted the voyage; the bodies, if found, will be buried; if not,
will become food for the alligator or the gar. A few jokes through the day, and
all is forgotten in the next order of march or preparations for another run.
The boats are manned by volunteers; there are always enough for the purpose,
and yet they know there is no glory to be gained, that their names, even, will
never be known beyond their company or regiment, that they must pass within
from one hundred and fifty to three hundred yards of the cannon's mouth;
batteries manned by men hellbent on their destruction. “Into the jaws of death,
into the mouth of hell,” with wild halloo and bacchanal song, a curse if they're
hit, an oath if they escape, they go to destruction, mayhap, not to glory. So
much for running the blockade. When I feel quite like it, I'll send you a map
and explain the country about here, and tell you why we don't take Vicksburg.
If anybody should ask you that question, just tell them it is because we have
no ground to stand upon. It is all water and swamp for miles below us and every
inch of the opposite side disputed. If we get a standpoint for operations, then
we drive them, if needs be, at the point of the bayonet. We must wait the turn
of events. I see the Admiral made a failure at Charleston. We have just got the
news, and Congress with the President determines to cripple the army. Well, “those
whom the gods destroy, they first make mad.”
I wish I had something else to write to you about — something
that would be more interesting than the army. I am in a close circumscribed
sphere, with limited knowledge of the outside world; the 27th of the month, and
my latest dates the 15th — of course I am far behind the age. Wife's poetry is
very pretty, and Colonel Fisher was pleased to get it. I have just managed to
secure his promotion. It will do him but little good; like the others I have
loved and lost, he is doomed. I give him about one month more and then I think
he will go under. There was another very fine and gallant young man in the
regiment, Captain Williams. I had him promoted to Major and the very day his
commission arrived, he was seized with small-pox and is now in the pest
hospital. He was struck in the breast by a Minie-ball in the charge at
Chickasas; he has been very weak since, and I think this is the last of him. I
think I shall counsel Colonel Fisher to resign; his is a valuable life.
SOURCE: Walter George Smith, Life and letters of
Thomas Kilby Smith, p. 291-4
