Kitabı oxu: «War Stories for my Grandchildren»

PREFACE

As they were growing up, I was frequently importuned by my grandchildren to tell them of my experiences in the Civil War for the Union; and now as the great-grandchildren are coming on, their parents are asking that these experiences be put in some permanent form, as their children may never have the opportunity to hear the narrative from me. I naturally shrink from giving general publicity to my personal experiences, especially as the field has been already so fully covered by comrades in arms; but I have consented to prepare such a narrative on condition that its circulation be confined to the family circles.

In preparing the narrative I have not thought it wise to trust to my memory of events which happened more than half a century ago; and fortunately I have at hand my many letters written to my wife, giving in detail my experiences during my entire service in the army, and while they are in some respects too intimate and confidential for general publicity, they have the merit of freedom from studied preparation and constitute an account of events as they occurred.

In this preparation I have indulged the hope that through it our children of this and coming generations may be inspired by a greater devotion to the American Union, for which their forefathers hazarded their lives and endured the hardships of war.

John W. Foster

I
INTRODUCTION

After the inauguration of President Lincoln, March 4, 1861, much discussion followed in Washington and in the North, and plans were proposed respecting peaceable adjustment of the troubles occasioned by the secession of the Southern States from the Union. But the first hostile gun fired at Fort Sumter and the National flag, on April 12, put an end to all peace proposals, and solidified the North in favor of restoring and preserving the Union by force of arms. As one of our statesmen of that day expressed it, yesterday there had been difference of opinion, to-day there was unity.

When two days afterwards the President's call for seventy-five thousand volunteers for three months' service was issued, my first impulse was to respond to that call; but before any movement for enlistments could be made in our locality the quota of Indiana was filled to overflowing. I was content for several reasons to await the progress of events.

I cherished no desire for military glory, and distrusted my special fitness for the life of a soldier. In my college days I had contracted a horror of war and regarded it as the most terrible and futile of human follies. Shortly before my graduation I had delivered a public address for my literary society on peace and war, using as its title Charles Sumner's well-known oration – "The True Grandeur of Nations." I regarded myself as a peace man.

I had only recently entered upon the practice of my profession, and was ambitious to make a reputation as a lawyer. But, most serious of all, I had just established a modest home with a young wife and our first-born babe of less than a year old. It would be a terrible strain upon my affections and hopes to break these dearest of all ties for a life in the military service.

I, with the great body of the people of the North, entertained the hope that the seventy-five thousand men, who constituted the army so quickly formed, would prove sufficient for the reëstablisment of the Federal Union. But the battle of Bull Run, July 21, dispelled that delusion, and the President's call for three hundred thousand afterwards increased to five hundred thousand volunteers for three years' service indicated that a long and bloody war was in prospect. I resolved no longer to delay my entrance into that service.

Two days after that battle I wrote my wife as follows: —

"I intended to have written you a long letter last night in reply to your good one received yesterday afternoon, but I had no heart to write. The terrible and disastrous calamity to our army has made me sick. A thousand times rather would I have given my life and left you a widow and my darling child fatherless than that this defeat should have happened. I think I shall go to Indianapolis to-morrow to urge my immediate appointment in our new regiment. I want to help retrieve our lost fortune. I have no fear of our ultimate triumph."

When the President's second call for volunteers was issued, a movement was at once set on foot to organize a regiment at Evansville, my home, and the Governor of the State had intimated his intention to appoint me major of this new regiment. On August 9 my appointment as major was made. The next day I sent my wife's brother, Alexander, to Glendale, near Cincinnati, where she was visiting her mother, to notify her of the event and give her details of the situation. He bore her a letter in which I wrote: "Zan [Alexander] will explain the cause of his coming. I want to be with my wife as much as I can before I go, so you must hurry home as fast as you can… While you are a loving wife, remember to be a brave woman and your husband will love you the more."

I had gone to Glendale some time before to talk over with my wife my intention to enter the army, and she had given her consent; but when the time came for me to take the final step she seemed to hesitate and draw back. It was a terrible trial to contemplate, her solitary lot with her little babe and I away in the army. In answer to her letter I wrote: "You seem in your last letter to be about to withdraw your consent to let me go. That was the special reason of my late visit to Glendale, and I thought it was agreed. I have a very honorable and, to me, very flattering position, and in some degree removed from danger; and of course I shall, for the love I bear my wife and child, be as careful of my life as my duty will permit. The President has called for four hundred thousand men, and of that number it is my duty to be one. I regard this as important a war as that of the Revolution, the issue is the life and maintenance of the Government, and I would be ashamed of myself, and my children should be ashamed of me in after years, if I declined so honorable a position as that tendered me. Be of good courage."

In response to my call she came at once to Evansville, and soon entered into the spirit of my work in organizing and outfitting the regiment, and, as will be seen later in these pages, she remained to the close of my service my faithful and devoted supporter.

II
THE MISSOURI CAMPAIGN

The organization at Evansville became the Twenty-fifth Indiana Infantry Regiment of Volunteers. On August 22, thirteen days after its official staff was appointed, the regiment was ordered to St. Louis, Missouri. It was a notable farewell the citizens of Evansville and the surrounding country gave the regiment on its departure. The deportment of my wife I refer to in one of my first letters to her from St. Louis. I copy it at some length because it reflects the sentiments of hundreds of thousands of other soldiers: —

"I felt proud of you as my wife and loved you the more for the manner in which you acted on the departure of our regiment from Evansville. While I know that no wife loves her husband more than you do me, yet you could let me go off, for how long you know not, to brave the dangers of the battlefield, because I thought it my duty, without a murmur or reproach or entreaty. And now that I am away, I hope you will be the true woman still. You know that our separation is not harder for you to bear, surrounded by home and all its comforts, your darling child and dear mother, than it is for me deprived of all these. You must be hopeful and cheerful. I am here because duty prompts me, and you would be ashamed of me if I were not here.

"I will try to do all I can to preserve my health and so far protect myself from dangers as my duty and honor will permit. You must remember that there are tens of thousands of wives who bear the same lot as you do. It would make me very unhappy to know that you were disheartened and lamenting my absence and exposure to danger; and, on the contrary, it would lighten my trials to know that you were bearing it like a brave, true-hearted woman. I know you are my devoted wife, and I know you will act your part nobly."

Our regiment was ordered to St. Louis because the State of Missouri was in a critical condition and in danger of being swept onto the side of the rebellion. St. Louis had been placed on the side of the Union by the daring and promptness of Frank P. Blair and General Lyon, the commander of the arsenal and barracks, in the seizure of the rebel Camp Jackson, and dispersion of the State Guards stationed in the city. But before our arrival the Union forces had met with a disastrous repulse at Wilson Creek, and General Lyon killed, one of the most promising of the Union generals. Soon after we reached St. Louis, the Confederate General Price captured Lexington, took the entire Union force prisoners, and was overrunning the greater portion of the State. General Frémont had been assigned to the command of the Department, and troops were being rushed forward to enable him to clear the State of rebels.

The Twenty-fifth Indiana remained at Benton Barracks, St. Louis, for three weeks, while Frémont was organizing his army to drive General Price and his forces out of the State. How we occupied our time is in part shown by my letters. James C. Veatch, the colonel of our regiment, was appointed largely because of the service he had rendered in the campaign for the election of Lincoln, but it proved a good appointment. The lieutenant-colonel, William H. Morgan, had seen some service with the three months' volunteers and as a member of a military company had acquired some knowledge of drill and tactics. He was the only person in our regiment of 1047 officers and men who knew anything about military affairs.

After being in camp at Benton Barracks a few days, I wrote: —

"Our colonel is doing all he can for the comfort and convenience of his men. Ever since we arrived, he has been stirring up headquarters in our behalf. In a day or two he will have us paid off, which will be decidedly acceptable; and is now bent on having us supplied with good guns before we leave here, and though good guns are scarce here, he thinks he will succeed.

"Colonel Morgan is invaluable as a drill and camp officer. He devotes three hours each day to the instruction of the officers, and two hours to battalion drill, besides his other duties. He has the officers recite to him daily from the Book of Tactics. Our regiment is under excellent discipline and very orderly, and I am satisfied if they will give us a few weeks to drill and good guns, that we will do honor to the State and country."

In the same letter to my wife, I wrote of myself: —

"Although the place of major may be one of ease, if an officer desires he may keep himself busy and be quite useful in regulating the camp, seeing that the officers and men do their duty, looking after the wants of the men, assisting in battalion drill, etc. And I am the more busy, because in addition I devote from two to five hours in study and recitation of the tactics. I accepted the position in our regiment, not as a sinecure, but because I thought my country needed my services, and I have resolved to leave nothing undone that will fit me to discharge my duties properly, and so prepare myself that if it should ever happen that the lives of a thousand men should be placed in my keeping, I might, as Dr. Daily would say, be competent for an emergency. So that now the time does not hang heavily on my hands. Personally I am getting along very well in camp."

A few days later I report that the regiment has received its first payment, and I make a remittance to my wife of $130 in gold.

My father, then in his sixty-second year, was an ardent defender of the Union, and took great interest in the organization of our regiment, to which he contributed two of his sons, my brother, next to me in age, being the quartermaster of our regiment. He had ordered to be made the flags of the regiment, and as they were not finished before it left Evansville, they were presented at Benton Barracks, of which I give the following account to my wife: —

"We had the ceremony of the Flags' Presentation yesterday at dress parade. Colonel Veatch read father's letter and made some very appropriate remarks, and the thanks of the regiment were unanimously tendered to him for his appropriate and valuable gift. The National flag is very fine, but I think the regimental flag is the best and most elegant I ever saw. There is no regiment from Indiana and I think none in the West that has as fine a stand of colors as ours. The men are very proud of them."

The following extract describes a treat at Benton Barracks, the like of which we had more than once during the year, as we were on or near the Mississippi, Cumberland, and Tennessee Rivers within easy reach of Evansville: —

"Your box of good things came on Sunday and was opened immediately. That evening we had what your Cincinnati cousin would call 'a sumptous tea.' William, our cook, got out all his dishes and I furnished him with a new tablecloth and he got up a table in fine style with your dainties, with the aid of the bouquets and fruits our kind neighbors here had sent. Not only Aleck and I, but all our mess have enjoyed your treat very highly."

One of the matters that troubled me about giving up my affairs at Evansville was the continued maintenance of a large Mission Sunday School which I had organized and kept up in a flourishing way for some years. I did not get encouraging news as to its condition, and I wrote my wife about an efficient superintendent: —

"I hardly know whom you can get in my place. There are very few men who will take the trouble and have the patience and perseverance to keep the school up through the hot summer and cold winter successfully as I have done for four years. But it ought not to go down."

The school was maintained for some time, but it was discontinued long before the war closed.

Some of the embarrassments attending my new and untried duties are described in the following letter: —

"I was detailed to-day as field officer of the brigade, and have been kept busy all day, in the saddle almost continuously from 8 A.M. to 5 P.M., and am tired enough. I went over this morning and reported myself to the general for duty, and the first thing he said was that the adjutant-general was away and I would have to mount the brigade guard. As I had never even mounted a regimental guard, you may be sure it rather stumped me, but like a soldier I did my best, and in the presence of the general, the officer of the day, and other officers I performed the duty and passed the guard in review satisfactorily."

After three weeks of instruction and comfort at Benton Barracks we received orders to go to the front, and fearing my wife might be disturbed by the movement, I wrote her a consolatory letter: —

"We have orders to leave to-morrow for Jefferson City. Of course we are in great hurry and have very little time to write letters, even to dear and loving ones at home. We left our homes to fight our country's battles, and naturally we are glad to see a prospect of that kind of work before us. You must not be unduly solicitous or alarmed. You may hear reports of the Twenty-fifth being entirely cut to pieces or all prisoners, even before we are in sight of our enemy. Don't place any confidence in vague rumors. If anything serious takes place, Aleck or I will send early word home, or some of our friends will for us, and if you do not hear, you may be certain we are busy or out of telegraphic or mail communication, and you need not think we are dead or prisoners. Be a true, brave woman. Act worthy of a soldier's wife, and put your trust in God, remembering that He does all things well."

The trip to Jefferson City was one of many railroad rides the regiment had, all more or less uncomfortable. I wrote, September 16: —

"I have only time to write you a pencil note at the dépôt. We arrived here safely yesterday at noon, but tired and in bad condition. As we began our march from Benton Barracks a hard rain set in and so continued half the day. Reached the dépôt at 3 P.M., but did not get off till 10 P.M., in crowded cars, little sleep, rain all night, with leaky cars. It took us fifteen hours to run to this place, one hundred and twenty-five miles. Just as we reached our camp it commenced to rain in torrents again and so continued nearly all night. We got the tents out in the rain. If we get through safely with our first experience in hardships of soldiering we will do pretty well."

Our regiment had been ordered to Jefferson City to form part of the grand army with which Frémont was expected to sweep Price and his forces out of Missouri, and for the next three months and more we were engaged in marching and counter-marching with hardly any fighting worth recording. One of the not unusual experiences of camp life, when the enemy were supposed to be near, I gave my wife while at Jefferson City: —

"The news here to-day is that Lexington is taken by the secessionists. If that is so we are going to have some warm work in this part of the country. Night before last several shots were heard in the direction of our pickets two or three miles out, which caused the alarm to be sounded and brought out all the regiments of the brigade into line of battle. Some of them came out with a great deal of noise and confusion. Ours came in perfect order and to our full satisfaction; a person fifty yards from our line would not have known that there was any disturbance at all going on in our camp…

"I get along tolerably well in daytime, as I keep so busy with other matters I don't have time to get homesick. But last night I had such a sweet dream about little Alice; and then when I woke and found it only a dream, how I wanted to be at home just a little while to see you and her. But let us be of good cheer and hope. I will be with you again."

This is a frequent topic of my letters. A few weeks later I write: —

"The parts of your letters about our Alice were the most interesting to me. The dear little darling, how I would love to see her walk. Don't let her forget her papa."

How my dream recalled one of Campbell's war poems with which I was so familiar in college, "The Soldier's Dream": —

"The bugles sang truce, for the night cloud had lowered."

In another letter from Jefferson City I write: —

"You say in your letter received to-day that you are so glad we did not go to Kentucky, because they are going to have fighting there. We were very much disappointed in not being ordered to that very place, and just because there was to be fighting there, and we might aid our brethren in Kentucky. If our Government is worth anything it is worth defending and to maintain it thousands of our lives would be a cheap price. We must all look at it in this light, and do our duty fearlessly."

A further extract from the same letter: —

"We have had considerable trouble in having our guards learn their duty as sentinels. This week one of our sentinels was found asleep on his post. We sentenced him to be shot, at a court-martial, but recommended him to clemency; at the same time privately having the colonel understand it was merely formal to make the soldiers more careful hereafter.

"So yesterday at dress parade the regiment was thrown into a hollow square, the prisoner brought out and sentence pronounced with great gravity, making to all who did not understand it a very solemn scene. The prisoner was remanded to confinement to await execution. This morning the members of the companies all cast lots to decide who should be in the unfortunate squad to shoot him. The ten men who drew the black beans were brought up before headquarters this morning and notified that to-morrow morning at daylight they would have a terrible duty to discharge, without telling them what it was, they readily imagining it.

"To-day the young man was suffering greatly, but he would not tell where his father or family are, for fear we should write them about it. He says his father told him if he died in battle he would be satisfied, but never to disgrace himself. And he promised that if we would only release him, he would give a good account of himself on the battlefield. He will be released in the morning, and we won't have any sleepy sentinels soon again."

Five days later I write from Georgetown: —

"We left Jefferson City Monday morning and came up to Lamine River, fifty miles, where we joined the Eighth and Twenty-fourth Indiana, and Colonel Veatch took command. Tuesday morning we heard there were seven thousand rebels near here [Georgetown]. The colonels of the other regiments wanted Veatch to stay at Lamine, but Colonel Morgan and I urged him on, knowing that we were equal to two to one, or even three, on the prairie with our long-range guns. It was greatly through our urging that Colonel Veatch decided to go forward. We were anxious to have a pure Hoosier fight with the rebels, and were glad of the prospect. We left at 3 P.M., all of us expecting to meet seven thousand at night or in the morning. It was a race, we supposed, for the possession of Georgetown, and by ten o'clock at night we passed over the seventeen miles with our whole force, and entered the town peaceably, without disturbing a citizen from sleep, and slept in the court-house yard. It was our first march on foot and a hard one, but we made it finely. The last two miles were very trying on the men. The only way we kept them up was by riding down the lines and telling the men it was only over the hill to the enemy, and we would have them certain. But no enemy was near, none nearer than Lexington. I don't know how I will feel on the battlefield, but as yet I have no fear of going into a fight.

"We are at last settled after hard marching, rainy weather, and various hardships. I have been in the saddle nearly all the time for four days. Yesterday I stationed the picket guards, and it took about forty miles' riding, but I am standing it well. It is just what I need. I enjoy it finely, eat largely, and have no dyspepsia [a trouble at home].

"Near to our camp is a neat little cottage all furnished with everything, nice beds, furniture and carpets, dining-room and kitchen furniture complete. It is the house of a young lawyer, who was married this spring, was a secessionist, was taken prisoner, took the oath of loyalty, violated it, and is now in the rebel army, and subject to be shot if he is ever caught. His wife has fled to her father's. Colonel Veatch has established his brigade headquarters in his house, and we are living in style. I am writing at his desk, using his paper."

While in Georgetown I gave this picture of the country: —

"For the first time we are really in the enemy's country, and are seeing the effects of secession and some of the terrible results of war. As we passed through the villages on our march here, the houses were nearly all deserted, the doors closed, and very few persons to be found. A sign of dreariness rested on everything. And when we arrived here at Georgetown, the county seat and numbers about a thousand people, at least one half of the houses were vacant, the stores closed, and business suspended.

"Georgetown has seen several reverses since the rebellion broke out, being several times in possession of both rebel and Federal troops. When the rebels came in, the Union men fled the country or took to the woods and slept among the bushes. Many women so exposed on the cold, damp ground lost their lives by the exposure. I took dinner a day or two ago with a gentleman, a citizen here, who formerly lived at Mount Vernon [near Evansville]. He had his store broken open in broad daylight by a company of the rebel army, and fifteen hundred dollars' worth of his goods carried away, while he was a refugee in the woods. Many men have lost their all.

"Such outrages have naturally enough begotten a spirit of revenge among Union men, and those of them of more violent passions and lesser principles have retaliated, until one wrong begetting another has brought on a spirit of bitterness and enmity among the people which is truly deplorable. I never want to see such a state of society again. The dregs of the population are uppermost, and the honest and innocent suffer. Surely it is a holy mission of ours to give peace, and safety, and law to this country. This part of the State is the most beautiful farming country I ever saw, and certainly it needs peace. Here truly 'only man is vile.'"

In another letter from Georgetown, I report: —

"As to the enemy I don't know anything that is definite. We have a report this evening that they are only twenty-six miles away, but we have had them right on us so often before, that I hardly believe any reports we hear about them. But we try to keep prepared, our men sleep on their arms, and we station our pickets out five or ten miles."

As already noticed, the first payment to our regiment was made in gold coin, but the second one is noticed from Georgetown as follows: "I sent you by the Paymaster to be expressed from St. Louis $150 in Treasury Notes. I suppose the Treasury Notes are good, but when you can get them changed into gold I would do it, to lay by for later use."

This suggests that I had early anticipated the coming depreciation of Government paper currency, and in later remittances I repeated this injunction, so that when I retired from the army my wife had as her savings from my pay a considerable sum in gold, which she converted into "greenbacks" at the rate of two dollars and fifty cents for one dollar gold.

In her letters more than once my wife writes of the alarm created among her neighbors for fear the rebel forces would capture Evansville, our home. In a letter, October 13, I wrote her: —

"You say in some of your letters that the people were packing up to leave Evansville when the rebels come. I do not believe they will ever reach there, but if they should come I would not, if I were you, leave your home or pack up. Your valuables you might put into a place of security, but they will not injure peaceable and discreet women at least."

In a letter of October 15, I report a movement of our brigade to Otterville: —

"We have come here to go into Major-General Pope's division of Frémont's army in Davis's brigade. How long we will remain here is uncertain, but I guess only a few days, when we shall go south in search of Price.

"The bad weather has made a large number of our men sick, and two or three hundred were left behind. General Davis put me in charge of them with orders to get wagons and bring them forward. The sick department of our army is the most unpleasant, the most troublesome, and the most neglected in the whole service. I would rather at any time encounter the dangers of the battlefield than the hospital and receive the treatment of privates. It is a shame to humanity and our Government that it is so much neglected, at least here."

A few days later I wrote: —

"I have no time to write you a letter. I am doing most of the business of the regiment, both of the colonels being sick. All of our brigade left this morning in the forward movement except our regiment, which was left behind for three reasons – the brigade took all our wagons, we had so large a number of sick, and a regiment was to be left to forward supplies. We will leave as soon as we get transportation.

"Aleck [my brother, regimental quartermaster] has been promoted to post quartermaster of General Pope's division, and will be stationed at Otterville, charged with the duty of drawing from St. Louis and forwarding supplies to the division, a very responsible position, and earned by his attention to his duties."

Three days later I wrote: —

"The health of our regiment has been very bad. It is almost unfit for duty. We could only turn out two hundred for company drill, and could hardly march five hundred to-morrow. Diarrhœa, chills and fever, and measles are prevalent. Our officers are almost all laid up. Colonel Morgan has gone to a private house to recruit for a few days. Aleck and I have been the only officers at headquarters who have been entirely fit for duty for several days."

Notwithstanding the condition of the regiment it became necessary for me to run down to St. Louis by rail to bring forward our supply of winter clothing, blankets, etc., and my wife met me there for a day. I am answering her first letter after her return to Evansville, October 23: —

"I am sorry to have you write so despondingly, or rather was sorry to know you felt so lonely (I always want you to write just as you feel). But it was natural that you should feel badly after our separation, for I know what my own feelings were. I trust you are more hopeful and cheerful now. You must remember it is all for the best. I would be with you in our comfortable home, enjoying all the happiness which you and my dear and kind friends could bestow upon me, if I could. But it is impossible. I should be a miserable coward to stay at home in ease and luxury at such a time of national calamity and need."

I wrote again two days later, showing that I had a clear vision of the result of Frémont's grand march to destroy Price: —

"I hardly think we can get off before the first of next week, but it doesn't make much difference to us. We will hardly have a battle at any rate, and will only march down into the lower part of the State to winter, or drag our weary way back again. If this expedition is not a Moscow defeat, I shall be highly gratified. But you must not be alarmed about me. The officer who has a horse to ride and comfortably equipped will be well situated, but it is the poor foot soldier who has to suffer."

I at last chronicle our departure: —

"I have only a moment to write you that we are just about marching to the South. I am very busy, both the colonels and quartermaster being sick. I am colonel, quartermaster, and almost everything else. My health is very good. I see you are secretary of the Ladies Soldiers' Aid Society. You can't do too much for the soldiers, but their greatest need is in the hospitals, good nurses, good cooks, clean shirts, sheets, and kind treatment. If I am to die in the army, I want it to be on the battlefield, never in the miserable hospitals."