War Stories for my Grandchildren

Sometime before the siege of Knoxville General Burnside had asked to be relieved of the command of the department, and General John G. Foster (of New Hampshire) of the Eastern army had been appointed to succeed him. He arrived at my headquarters while the siege was in progress. In this letter writing about a leave to come home, I refer to General Foster: —

"If matters quiet down here there is a probability that I may come this winter, but nothing certain; a man in the army can't go when he pleases. If General Burnside had remained, I think I would have had no difficulty, but it is uncertain as to General Foster, how strict he will be. I have been with him here for three or four days, being frequently consulted by him as to movements, the country, etc., and have been quite intimate at his headquarters. He is quite a Yankee and not so agreeable in his manners as Burnside, but withal he may make a good commander. But there is no man like Burnside for this department with his soldiers. I especially will regret his leaving."

The day after I wrote my last letter, Longstreet retreated from Knoxville (December 5) up the valley toward the Virginia line, and the next day (the 6th) General Sherman reached Knoxville. On December 10 I wrote: —

"Bean Station, where we are now camped, you will find on most maps of Tennessee. It is ten miles from Morristown on the road to Cumberland Gap, just at the foot of the Clinch mountains, forty-two miles from Knoxville. We have followed the enemy this far up from Knoxville. From Tazewell I joined the Second Brigade near Knoxville. Colonel Graham of that brigade reported that an encampment of the enemy was over the mountain about five miles, so I sent him over, had a skirmish, captured a captain, several prisoners, and seventy-five horses, and drove them clear over Clinch Mountain. Since then we have followed the enemy in their retreat, skirmishing with their rear guard all the way. I doubt whether we shall push the enemy much farther, as it will be difficult to get supplies."

The siege of Knoxville was one of the most gallant events on the Federal side during the Civil War. Burnside with an inferior force successfully sustained a siege of twenty days, resisting the assaults of the enemy with comparatively small losses, endured short rations, and by the heroism of his command saved East Tennessee to the Union. The result gave great joy to all loyal men, and President Lincoln issued a proclamation, calling on the people "to render special homage to Almighty God for this great advancement of the National cause," and Congress thanked Burnside and his army. General Grant in his "Memoirs" says: "The safety of Burnside's army and the loyal people of East Tennessee had been the subject of much anxiety to the President, and he was telegraphing me daily, almost hourly, to 'remember Burnside,' 'do something for Burnside,' and other appeals of like tenor." In my letter of December 10, I say: "Burnside goes out of this Department with the admiration of the whole army. His defense of Knoxville was glorious, and his goodness of heart and purity of character endear him to all who know him." Years after, while Minister to Mexico, I visited Washington at the time when Burnside was a Senator from his State, and received from him much social attention in recognition of our army friendship.

From Bean Station I wrote again on December 13: —

"We are still at this place, from which I last wrote you, being comparatively quiet. We daily send out reconnoissances toward Rogersville and Morristown. They generally meet the enemy nine and twelve miles out, have a pretty sharp skirmish, lose a few men killed and wounded, and then return to camp. The enemy do not appear to be retreating, or rather appear to have stopped retreating. My health continues very good, and I am in good spirits, only I get quite homesick at times. I will get home as soon as I can, but the prospect for doing so is not very flattering."

In a hurried visit to Knoxville I wrote on the 23d of December: —

"As I got to thinking about home, I said to General Foster that when my services could be dispensed with, I would like to take a leave of absence. He says he cannot think of letting me go for ten days or two weeks, but hopes at the expiration of that time that the exigencies of the service will permit him to let me go home. That means that I may probably go home if the enemy will let me. Don't fix your heart on my coming soon. It will be as soon as I can consistently."

This is my Christmas letter: —

"I can do nothing better to-night than to write you a letter by way of a Christmas present. We have to-day unexpectedly had a quiet, if not a Merry Christmas, though it did not appear last night as though it would be so. About 3 P.M. yesterday I received orders (in camp near Blain's Cross-Roads) to move over at once and join General Sturgis at New Market, where the main body of the cavalry are. We got off about sunset, but did not arrive here till midnight, having to ford the Holston and travel over a very bad road. How longingly I thought of what you and the dear ones at home might be doing at that hour as I marched along in the clear, stinging cold night.

"After the cold and cheerless ride we fortunately got into comfortable quarters, and have been quiet to-day, enjoying the rest and comfort. We improvised a pretty good Christmas dinner. Among the delicacies we don't get often, we had eggs and butter. We are not living in excellent Epicurean style just now, as the country is pretty well eaten out.

"I cannot see any prospect of our getting into winter quarters, such as the papers report the Army of the Potomac and of the Cumberland are enjoying. The climate of East Tennessee is very similar to that of Indiana, and the men are very scantily supplied with 'dog' or shelter tents and many have not even these to cover them. My commands since we came into East Tennessee have been on one continuous campaign without cessation. Up the country, over the mountains, across the rivers, down the valley, then up again, driving the enemy before us, then falling back, to drive the enemy up the valley again – thus we have been for four months, until we have run down our horses and about half of our men. But we are enduring it very well, still after the rebels with as much zest as ever. There is a vast deal of excitement in the cavalry service."

My last letter to my wife from East Tennessee was written on the last day of 1863, which I began with a prayer: —

"Let us not forget to thank our dear Heavenly Father for all His mercies of the past year. Oh, how good He has been to us, even with all our troubles! How little we have done in our lives to repay that goodness! May He make us more worthy of His mercies and blessing in the New Year, and may He preserve our lives that we may together meet and praise Him. To His watchful care I commit my dear wife and little ones.

"I last wrote you from New Market. I was enjoying a quiet rainy Sunday there, reading some good book I found at the house where I was quartered, when about noon I received orders for my division to move forward and attack the enemy and drive him back from Mossy Creek. It was an unwelcome order that rainy Sabbath, but we executed it, and after considerable skirmishing took up a new line two miles beyond Mossy Creek. Yesterday Colonel Wolford's division and mine were ordered out at three o'clock in the morning to Dandridge, where it was reported a division of rebel cavalry was encamped. We went, but found the enemy had left the night before, and we returned at 4 P.M. just in time to miss a nice little fight at Mossy Creek. The enemy attacked our outposts at 11 A.M. and drove our troops back two miles, but ours in turn drove them back again beyond our lines. It is not often that my men have the fortune, or misfortune, to miss the fighting, as we did yesterday.

"We have here our entire force of cavalry, and one brigade of infantry. The rest of the army is at Strawberry Plains and Blain's Cross-Roads. Longstreet is reported at Morristown with the main body of his army. I suppose General Foster intends to drive him away from there, if possible, how soon I don't care because I want to come home as soon as the fighting here is over, and take a little rest with my dear wife and darling little girls."

I may venture, before closing my East Tennessee correspondence, to give in part the last of these letters, as a specimen of letters to a soldier's child, written on January 1, 1864: —

"Why should I not write a letter this New Year's Day to my dear little Alice? I am so far away I can't give you any nice present; all I can do is to try to write you a good letter…

"What have you and Lillie and the other little children been doing to-day? And did you have a Christmas tree and a happy time then? Papa has not had much of a New Year's Day. It has been so cold, oh so very cold to-day. Was it cold at home? I could tell you a story about the cold. Would you like papa to tell you a little story in his letter? Do you still like to hear stories? Well, I can tell you part of it, and mamma can tell it over to you and fill it up.

"Papa, you know, is away off, out in the mountains, so far away from home, in the army, and you know there are so many poor soldiers in the army. Yesterday, the last day of the old year, was such a gloomy day, it was so muddy and wet and rainy. And then last night it blew so hard and rained so much; it was like a hurricane (get mamma to tell you what that is). And the poor soldiers have no houses to live in, like little Alice, with nice warm beds, and they don't have large tents like you saw out in the woods near home last summer when Uncle Jimmy and the rest of the boys and men were out soldiering. They have to live in the fields and woods, and their tents are like grandma's tablecloth, only smaller, and they stretch that up over a pole and it is open at both ends, and at night two or three or four of them get down on their hands and knees and crawl into it and pull their blankets over them when they go to bed. The soldiers call them 'dog-tents.' Ask Lillie if she thinks it would be good enough for her 'Trip.' Well, last night, after many of the soldiers had been marching in the rain, and when most of them were wet and their blankets wet, they built large fires, but they wouldn't burn well because it was too wet, and they crawled into the 'dog-tents,' and were trying to get to sleep when the naughty wind commenced to blow and it began again to rain, and the rain would blow on their heads and they would draw them further into their tents, and then it would rain on their feet, and pretty soon there came up such a hurricane that it blew all their tents clear off of them, and there they were lying on the muddy ground, and the cold rain pouring down on them. And they all had to get up out of bed. It had rained so hard that it put all their fires nearly out so they couldn't get warm. Poor soldiers, don't you pity them?

"Some of the soldiers were out, away off in the dark woods on that terrible night on picket (get Willie or Uncle Aleck to tell you what that is). And they had to sit all night on their poor horses away out by themselves with their guns in their hands and swords by their sides, watching to keep the wicked rebels from slipping into camp in the dark night and killing your poor papa and the rest of the soldiers. After a while the rain stopped, but the wind kept blowing and whistling through the trees and over the mountains and making such a terrible noise. You can hear it whistle around the corner of grandmamma's house, but it moans and whistles so much louder out here over the mountains, it might frighten little girls if they did not know what it was. Soon the wind began to change around toward the north where Jack Frost lives and from where the white snow comes, and the rain began to freeze, and the ground got hard, and it was so cold, oh bitter cold. The poor soldiers could sleep no more that night, their blankets were all frozen stiff as an icicle, and they had to build great big fires to keep their coats and pants from freezing on them. It was all they could do to keep from freezing; they could not keep warm.

"Some of the men, when we went out to drive away the rebels from the other side of the mountain, were hungry and they stopped behind us at a farmhouse to get something to eat, and the wicked rebels caught them and took their overcoats away from them, and took their warm boots off their feet; and some of the poor fellows got away from them and walked all the way from the rebel camp over the frozen ground barefooted. To-day the soldiers have done nothing but build big fires and stand close up to them and try to keep warm.

"These poor soldiers and your papa have come away from our homes and left good mammas and dear little daughters to keep the wicked bad rebels from making this country a poor, unhappy one, and that when little Alice and the dear children of the other soldiers grow up they will have a good and a happy country, and won't have to know about wars and such terrible things. You must remember about the poor soldiers, and pray God that He will be very kind to them and make the time soon come when they and your papa can all of them go home to their dear little daughters and good mammas.

"Kiss mamma and little Sister Edith for me, and tell your little cousins Gwyn and Foster and Johnny that your papa hopes to come home soon and that he will then come around with you and see them all."

As intimated in the last letter to my wife, General Foster did make a forward movement with his entire force, and pushed the enemy toward the Virginia line, but thereafter there was a lull in army operations for the rest of the winter on both sides. The time had come for which I had so long looked when I could without injury to the service ask for a leave of absence, which General Foster, commanding the Department, cheerfully granted, and before the last of January, 1864, I was on my way home, going by way of Chattanooga and Nashville, as the railroad communication was then well established.

I have noted the death of my father in April, 1863. He had been actively engaged in extensive mercantile affairs, and while not wealthy (as the world estimates wealth now), was possessed of considerable property, both real and personal. By his will he made me the executor of his estate and guardian of the two minor children. In August, 1863, after I was well on the march to East Tennessee, I received a letter from my brother stating that the court at Evansville had required my presence in the proceedings for the settlement of my father's estate, but I obtained a stay until I should be able to get released from my army duties, with the assurance on my part that I would make as little delay as possible.

When I reached home I found the affairs of my father's estate in such condition that I could not conclude my duties as executor in the time fixed for my "leave" from my command. There was the widow, two minor and four adult heirs claiming attention to my duties as executor. Under the circumstances I felt it proper to tender my resignation from the army, especially as I had already determined to do so at the expiration of my three years' term of service, which would be within four months.

There was no reason for me to tender my resignation except the undischarged duty of executor and my earnest desire to be with my family. During my entire army service I had enjoyed good health and was pleased with the active life. I had been reasonably successful in military affairs, and had held large and important commands to the satisfaction of my superior officers, and there was every prospect of my early promotion in rank. But I put aside preferment and possible military distinction for the more immediate call of family duty. The outlook for the suppression of the rebellion was at that date most favorable. Grant had been made commander-in-chief, and was organizing his army for the final march on Richmond; Sherman was preparing for his advance on Atlanta and his march to the sea; and at no time since the opening of hostilities had the cause of the Union looked so auspicious.

General Sturgis, in command of the cavalry corps to which I belonged, in forwarding my resignation to the Department general made the following endorsement: —

"In approving this resignation, I cannot refrain from expressing my deep regret in parting with so intelligent, energetic, and brave an officer. I have for some time been aware of the business and family interests which I feared would sooner or later deprive the army of the services of Colonel Foster, yet after so long and faithful service he should be, I think, relieved under the circumstances. His loss, however, will be severely felt in this corps and his place hard to fill."

When my resignation became known to the Sixty-fifth Regiment the officers held a meeting in which a series of resolutions were adopted declaring "that Colonel Foster, since his connection with the regiment has been unceasing in his labors in, and untiring in his devotion to, the cause in which we are engaged, and has spared no means to render his regiment efficient; that he has commanded the regiment with distinguished honor to himself and to the regiment; that in his resignation the regiment and the service have lost an efficient and valuable officer; and that he bears with him to his home our highest esteem and our best wishes as a citizen."

An editorial of considerable length appeared in the "Evansville Journal," from which the following is an extract: —

We regret exceedingly to learn that Colonel John W. Foster has felt it to be his duty to resign his commission as colonel of the Sixty-fifth Indiana Regiment, and that his resignation has been accepted. We have known for some time that circumstances – growing out of his father's death, occasioned an almost absolute necessity for his personal attention to the settlement of a vast amount of unfinished business left by the Judge – were conspiring to force Colonel Foster out of the service, but we were in hope that matters might be so arranged as to enable him to remain in the field. It seems, however, that this could not be done, and our Government loses the services of one of its most gallant, energetic, and experienced officers. Colonel Foster entered the service of his country in the summer of 1861, as major of the Twenty-fifth Regiment Indiana Volunteers. He laid aside the profession of the law, and took upon himself the profession of arms, from a conscientious belief that his first service was due to his Government. Without experience, or even a theoretical knowledge of military life when he entered the service, so close was his application to study, that but a short time elapsed before he was a thorough master of all the duties incumbent upon his position as Major of the regiment, or for that matter with any position connected with the regiment. Colonel Foster was a rigid disciplinarian, yet he exacted nothing from his men that was not essential to the efficiency of his regiment, or that he was unwilling to perform himself.

After a detailed review of my military service, it adds: —

Colonel Foster has proven his patriotism by his actions and in retiring to private life he will carry with him the assurance that he has merited the good wishes of his countrymen and secured the great satisfaction of an approving conscience.

From an editorial in the "Louisville Journal" the following is extracted: —

The resignation of Colonel John W. Foster of the Sixty-fifth Indiana Regiment has been accepted. His retirement from the army is to be regretted, as he was one of the most experienced, efficient and gallant officers in the service.

After a sketch of my military career, it says: —

Colonel Foster accompanied the expedition of General Burnside in the movement on East Tennessee, at times commanding brigades and even divisions. Just before tendering his resignation he was recommended for a brigadier-general's commission by Generals Burnside and Grant. Important business relating to his father's estate demanded immediate attention, and forced his resignation. The army and the country alike regret his retirement to private life.

VIII

WITH THE HUNDRED DAYS MEN

About three months elapsed after my return home from the East Tennessee campaign when a new appeal was made to me to reënter the military service. General Sherman was assembling at and near Chattanooga an army to make his great drive on Atlanta and into the very heart of the rebellion. To succeed in his decisive movement he had to draw his supplies from north of the Ohio River over a single long line of railroad communication, reaching from Louisville through the States of Kentucky and Tennessee to Chattanooga, and beyond as his army advanced. This line of supplies was mainly through hostile territory, and every part of it had to be guarded by armed soldiers. In order to give Sherman every possible trained soldier to swell his army so as to make the movement a success, it was determined to send all the soldiers then guarding this line of railroad to the front, which would prove a large addition to the fighting force of Sherman's army, and to replace them as guards with new recruits, who could be effective behind intrenchments and when on the defensive. Accordingly the Governors of the States of the Middle West made a call upon their several States for regiments of volunteers to serve for one hundred days, the estimated period of Sherman's campaign to Atlanta.

The call upon the State of Indiana was responded to with alacrity, and within a few days several regiments were formed and in a short time made ready for service. It was the desire of Governor Morton to have these raw recruits commanded, as far as possible, as colonels and other staff officers, by men who had already seen service and were experienced in actual fighting. One of these regiments, largely made up from Evansville and the adjoining counties, expressed a strong desire that I might be appointed to command them, and this action was followed by a telegram from Governor Morton tendering me a commission as colonel, and making a strong appeal to me to again give my services to the country in this great emergency.

I confess the call did not strongly appeal to me from a military viewpoint, as the contemplated service did not promise any distinction in warlike operations; but on the other hand, it was a service which would be just as useful in promoting Sherman's success as if we should be sent to the front and take part in the actual fighting, for without this line of communication for supplies being maintained his campaign must assuredly prove a failure. I recalled the fact in ancient history that the greatest of Hebrew generals, following the well-recognized rules of warfare, insisted on giving to those who guarded the camp and protected the line to the rear the same honor and emoluments as those who did the fighting. The Scriptural historian has preserved King David's words: "As his part is that goeth down to the battle, so shall his part be that tarrieth by the stuff; they shall part alike." So important did he deem this principle that the historian records that "from that day forward he made it a statute and an ordinance for Israel unto this day."

I had made much progress in the business of settling my father's estate, the cause of my previous resignation, and having secured my wife's consent to my reënlistment, there seemed to be no good reason for not responding to the call of the Governor and my townsmen and neighbors, and within three days after tender of my commission I was on the way to put myself at the head of the One Hundred and Thirty-sixth Indiana Infantry Volunteers. I have indicated that the character of the service to which we were to be assigned, the guarding of the railroad, did not promise any brilliant military exploits, and the extracts which I shall make from my letters may not be found of much interest, but they will at least set forth the manner in which we filled up our Hundred Days' service in the cause of our country.

The One Hundred and Thirty-sixth Indiana was mustered into service May 23, 1864, at Indianapolis, and passed through Louisville. My letter of the 31st states: —

"We left Louisville on Saturday morning, and I stationed the companies along the railroad from Shepardsville to Nolin, ten miles below here (Elizabethtown) on the railroad. I had hardly got the companies distributed, selected my headquarters here, and got my dinner, before the train arrived from Nashville bringing an aide to Major-General Rousseau, who was on the hunt for the One Hundred and Thirty-sixth Indiana, which should go to his command in Tennessee, but he saw by the Louisville papers that it had been stopped, and would go along the railroad. The aide had orders for me to go direct to Nashville at once, disregarding all orders from all sources but the War Department; but as General Burbridge had ordered me to come here, and as I was in his district, and was guarding important bridges which should not be abandoned, I decided to wait until the generals should get their conflict in orders adjusted. We have been waiting in doubt as to our future for two days; meanwhile the generals had been telegraphing with each other and with me, until last night I received orders to go to Nashville as soon as transportation was provided. How soon the cars will be ready to take me down I do not know."