two days of furious riding, inditing a six-column report for the World with his feverish head tied in towels—these stories will bear many a retelling and will always command applause and respect.[1]
Usually the correspondents were accorded the most liberal privileges. Government passes were put into their hands; they had the use of government horses and wagons; they were given transportation with baggage privileges on government steamers and military trains. They enjoyed the confidence of admirals and army commanders, and were seldom at a loss to obtain the information they desired. Staying behind the lines as they usually did, they heard an immense deal of officers' talk, and could pick up not only the camp gossip but also many telling snatches of military information. One of the Herald correspondents possessed a pass which entitled him "to accompany naval expeditions in any staff capacity to which the commanders might appoint him provided they did not interfere with the regulations of the Navy".[2] At Antietam a special writer for the Tribune carried several of General Hooker's messages and orders.[3] In their own estimation these newspaper men constituted a privileged class, and indeed the treatment they often received bore out the opinion.
From the standpoint of the government and the generals all this newspaper activity was highly pernicious. Not only was valuable information constantly exposed, but discontent in the army resulted from an airing of petty complaints, the names of generals and lesser officers were paraded to gratify personal ambition, sensational news-writing was unduly stimulated, and the very elements out of which war is engendered—hatred and misunderstanding—were intensified. Good "copy" for a day's reading being the object, truth and accuracy became altogether secondary considerations. The average reporter, under the pressure of a constant demand for news, would just as soon chat with a disgruntled subordinate officer and print his story as to search for reliable information from a safe source. Besides, the safe source would not talk. As the "specials" were in nearly every case civilians without military expertness, they often incorrectly interpreted what they saw; and of course erred grievously when they presumed to foretell coming movements. Partly because everything was written under headlines, and partly because each day's issue must contain something important, the news-writers fell into the inevitable habit of exaggerating their stories and spreading their pictures on huge canvasses. In the case of local papers
