"I had thought of writing you a good long letter this morning, but all
human hopes are vain. This morning we have marching orders for the
west, and there is no time for letter-writing. We are not informed as
to our destination, but the general impression among the officers is
that we are bound for Memphis. Will you come down to see me there, or
shall I jump on a boat and come up the Mississippi and Ohio and see
you?"
My next letter was written from Grand Junction, a station on the
Memphis and Charleston Railroad, midway from Corinth to Memphis. The
marching orders mentioned in the preceding letter were for Memphis, but
on reaching this station our regiment was diverted from its course, as
will be seen from the letter of June 20:--
"We arrived here five days ago, but our brigade was sent on an
expedition down to Holly Springs, thirty miles south in Mississippi,
to destroy the Mississippi Central Railroad, which took us till last
night: the rest of the army remaining here to support us in case
of danger. We came back all safe. The march was a very rapid, but
pleasant one, through a beautiful country and to one of the prettiest
towns in the South. We hope to leave for Memphis to-morrow."
This was the last letter written by me from the Twenty-fifth Indiana.
On my arrival at Grand Junction I learned that Alexander McFerson, my
wife's brother, was ill at Lagrange, a station on the railroad a short
distance from Grand Junction. I at once hastened to his bedside, and
found him suffering from a severe attack of typhoid fever, which was
prevalent in the camps. Notwithstanding he received the most skillful
medical attendance, the virulence of the disease soon placed him beyond
human aid, and he died on June 27.
I secured a furlough to take his body home. The regiment continued
on its march to Memphis, and I went on my sad journey to Evansville,
bringing the body of the young soldier to his bereaved mother and
sister. The sequel shows that I never returned to the Twenty-fifth
Indiana, with which I had passed through so many dangers and
privations, and with whose men I had formed the deep attachment of
soldier comradeship.
The following editorial in the "Evansville Journal" of July 2, 1862,
reflects the sentiments of all who knew him:--
A telegram last night brought the melancholy news of the death of
Lieutenant Alexander McFerson to his friends in this city. He died at
Lagrange, Tennessee, on the 27th ult. at the age of seventeen.
When he asked permission to join the army he said that he felt it
his duty to go into the service; that neither of his mother's sons
were there, and he would never feel satisfied unless he did his share
in putting down the rebellion. Less than two months ago he left his
friends and home, buoyant in health, and with high hopes of a pleasant
and useful career in the grand army of the Mississippi, having been
appointed commissary to the Twenty-fifth Indiana Volunteers. But how
soon those hopes are blasted, how soon that health is destroyed by a
fatal disease. In early youth, he is cut off. Young McFerson was a
generous, noble youth, warm-hearted, and highly esteemed by the whole
community, who will warmly sympathize with his bereaved friends in this
hour of their affliction.
VI
GUERRILLA WARFARE IN KENTUCKY
When I arrived at Evansville in July, 1863, on furlough, I found the
border country on both sides of the Ohio River in Indiana and Kentucky
in a state of feverish excitement. The counties of western Kentucky
were overrun with Confederate soldiers, who had secretly and singly
passed through the military lines, and were engaged actively in the
work of securing recruits for the rebel army, and, after mounting them
on horses taken from loyal citizens, sent them back through the lines
to the South. Guerrilla bands were roaming through these counties,
terrorizing the Union men, and threatening to cross the Ohio. In fact,
about the time of my arrival at home a small guerrilla force had
occupied Newburg, a town nine miles above Evansville, and robbed the
stores, striking terror into the inhabitants.
As no regular forces were available for defense, Governor Morton had
rushed several bodies of Home Guards to Evansville, and was organizing
thirty and sixty days' men for service in various parts of Indiana, to
serve until the Federal Government was able to protect the disturbed
districts by regularly organized and armed troops. General Love, who
had charge of these State forces, with his headquarters at Evansville,
requested me to take command of these irregular levies, and occupy
Henderson, the most important town in that section of Kentucky, ten
miles below Evansville on the Ohio River, as a base for operations
against these marauding rebels. This I consented to do, as a temporary
expedient.
On the 26th of July, a few days after we had occupied Henderson,
Governor Morton repeated from Indianapolis a telegram from General J.
T. Boyle at Louisville, commanding the United States military forces in
Kentucky as follows: "Give the order to Lieutenant-Colonel Foster in
my name to command at Henderson." As my furlough from the Twenty-fifth
Indiana was about to expire, and neither Governor Morton nor General
Boyle would listen to my intimation that I would have to rejoin my
regiment, estimating highly the value of my military experience in the
absence of other available officers, the Governor secured from General
Grant an order detaching me temporarily from the Twenty-fifth Indiana,
and authorizing me to continue in the service in Kentucky.
I was clothed by General Boyle with the most drastic authority to put
an end to the troubles in western Kentucky. The order above quoted by
which I was placed in command at Henderson contained also the following
instructions:--
Order the officers in my name to kill every armed rebel offering
resistance and all banded as guerrillas. I want none such as prisoners.
Order them to disarm every disloyal man.
Only a few days after I was put in command by General Boyle. August 2,
he sent the following telegram:--
If officers and men do not obey my orders to shoot down the armed
rebels, every bushwhacker, guerrilla, or banded villains, our forces
had better be withdrawn from the field. We can only save the State by
putting them to the sword. I want none of them as prisoners. Take no
oath or bonds. You will shoot down the scoundrels.
These and other orders from him of like character which I quote
will indicate the bitter spirit which prevailed at that time in
Kentucky between the loyal and disloyal citizens. General Boyle was a
native-born citizen of Kentucky.
Immediately after I assumed command at Henderson I set to work to
get the irregular and inexperienced forces collected there into such
organized shape as would enable me to go out into the country to attack
and drive out the rebel bands which were infesting that region. While
engaged in that work, I was embarrassed by a civil duty which I had
to face. A short time before my arrival an election had been held in
Kentucky for city, county, and other officials. General Boyle had
issued an order regulating the election to this effect:--
No person hostile in opinion to the Government will be allowed to
stand for office in Kentucky. The attempt of such a person to stand
for office will be regarded as in itself sufficient evidence of his
treasonable intent to warrant his arrest. In seeking office he becomes
an active traitor, if he does not become one otherwise, and is liable
both in reason and in law to be treated accordingly. All persons of
this description in offering themselves as candidates for office will
be arrested and sent to these Headquarters.
The election at Henderson had resulted in the choice of a mayor and
city council, all of whom were sympathizers with the rebellion. On my
arrival the mayor fled from the city. I telegraphed General Boyle:
"The mayor of this city has left town without leave. Been absent a
week. Strongly suspected of being among the guerrillas. The city
council are secessionists in sympathy. Have you any action to direct?"
He replied: "When mayor returns arrest him. If you deem proper arrest
any of the council, and send all to Camp Morton. The men elected to
office in Hopkins County I wish taken and sent in with others. Leniency
and conciliation do no good. The scoundrels must be subjugated or
killed."
It was soon established that the mayor had fled through the lines and
joined the Confederate forces, whereupon I summoned a meeting of the
council and requested them to declare the office of mayor vacant, and
each of them to take the oath of loyalty exacted of suspected citizens.
Rather than take this action all the members of the council resigned.
The city marshal likewise refused to take the oath of loyalty, and
I declared his office vacant. This left the city without any civil
government.
I therefore issued a proclamation as military commander of the post,
assuming control of the civil affairs "until the loyal citizens shall
have filled the offices with loyal men," and ordering an election to
be held on a day designated. Meanwhile a citizen of Henderson was
appointed by me provost marshal and furnished with a military guard
to enforce order. My action in the matter was approved by my superior
commanders. Thenceforth during my command in western Kentucky I had no
trouble with the civil authorities of Henderson.
Having gotten my forces in a fair condition for a campaign against the
guerrilla bands, I was about to make an expedition into the adjoining
counties, when I received a report that the Confederate trooper John
Morgan, with a large force, was just across the line in Tennessee and
learned that one of his subordinates, Adam Johnson, a noted guerrilla
chief, was already in my district. Before moving, I inquired of
General Boyle as to Morgan's whereabouts, and he replied: "Morgan is
near Gallatin. He cannot venture into your section. No danger from
that source. Johnson is a great liar, as all rebels are. You can go
where you please. Act on your own discretion. Shoot down the banded
scoundrels as guerrillas or as recruits for the rebel army."
I had received reliable information that a considerable band of armed
and organized rebels were quartered at Madisonville, the county
seat of Hopkins County, about forty miles from Henderson, actively
recruiting for their army and levying upon the loyal citizens for
horses and supplies. With several companies of infantry and such force
of cavalry as I could get (a mere handful), I embarked at night on a
steamer, going up the Ohio and Green Rivers to within three miles of
Madisonville, where we disembarked early in the morning, and moved
toward the town, hoping to surprise the enemy. But we found them posted
in a forest, heavily wooded and thick with underbrush, in the suburbs
of the town. I ordered forward our skirmishers, who engaged them with
a brisk fire, but before our line of battle could reach them they
fled precipitately, mounting their horses and scattering in every
direction. The result of the skirmish was a few soldiers wounded and a
number of the rebels as prisoners.
We went into camp at Madisonville, and scouting parties were sent out
in various directions. A few prisoners were brought in, but no banded
rebels could be met with, as, being mounted on good horses and aided by
resident sympathizers, they were able to get out of the way. During our
stay some of our soldiers on picket duty were shot down, murdered in
the darkness of the night, by persons claiming to be Southern soldiers,
skulking behind rocks and bushes. We were indignant at such warfare,
and I issued a proclamation which was scattered throughout the county,
denouncing this irregular and barbarous warfare as contrary to the
rules of civilized nations, declaring that the firing upon pickets,
when no enemy was near, was cold-blooded murder, and giving notice that
for every picket thereafter murdered one of the captured guerrillas in
our hands would be put to death as a felon. I never had occasion to put
this threat into execution, and probably never would have done so, but
the proclamation had its desired effect, and the killing of our pickets
ceased.
The expedition to Madisonville was heralded by the papers of Indiana
as a great victory and magnified into a battle, but to me who had so
recently come from Fort Donelson and Shiloh it seemed a mere skirmish
of slight proportions. I soon returned to the post at Henderson,
leaving a small detachment at Madisonville to protect the loyal
citizens from the depredations of the guerrillas.
On my return I found that a reign of terror existed in the adjoining
county of Union; that the loyal officers recently elected were not
permitted by the secessionists to act; that a returned Union soldier
at home on furlough had been ambushed and murdered; and that unarmed
steamers on the Ohio had been repeatedly fired on from Uniontown.
Reporting these facts to General Boyle, I was authorized to levy on the
secession sympathizers of the locality a fund for the support of the
family of the murdered soldier. As to Uniontown he telegraphed me: "If
the rebels take any town on the river and use it to fire on boats, you
will burn or demolish it. It would be well to burn down Uniontown, if
it is likely to fall into the hands of the rebels."
I made an expedition into Union County with a view to overawe the rebel
sympathizers and place the loyal officers recently elected in the
exercise of their duties. But it proved of no avail. The guerrillas
easily got out of our way and the rebel residents denied all knowledge
of them or of the parties guilty of the soldier's murder. The loyal
officials were unwilling to attempt to assume their duties unless I
would agree to keep a force of soldiers permanently at the county seat,
and this I could not do with my inadequate command.
For the first month or six weeks of my Kentucky service I put forth
as much activity as was possible with the forces I had, to destroy or
drive out of my district the guerrillas and Confederate recruiting men,
and I received the repeated thanks of Governor Morton and my commanding
officer, General Boyle, for what I accomplished. But I encountered
considerable embarrassment in the exercise of my command. I was still
lieutenant-colonel of the Twenty-fifth Indiana, then in General Grant's
army on the Lower Mississippi, and the troops sent into my district
might be, and at times were, commanded by officers of higher rank than
mine, and who according to the Army Regulations would displace me.
It was the desire of both Morton and Boyle that I should continue in
charge of the district, and they recognized that I deserved promotion.