War Stories for my Grandchildren

by John Watson Foster

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.

In a letter, dated September 19, Governor Morton wrote me as follows:—

"I desire to say frankly that it would be very gratifying to me to have you remain in command of the forces at and in the vicinity of Henderson, if in justice to your own feelings and the interest of your own regiment, you could do so. The ability, energy, and sagacity you have thus far displayed is sufficient proof of your fitness for the command. But should you, on any account, feel embarrassed in your personal position, I cannot insist that you shall remain; and, as to this, I beg you will exercise your own discretion.

"It would afford me much pleasure to show my recognition of your gallant, efficient, and faithful services, by promoting you to a colonelcy, and I should have done so before this, giving you one of the new regiments, had not orders from the War Department, a copy of which is herewith enclosed, prevented me from promoting officers connected with 'old regiments' to new commands. I regard you as entirely competent to lead a regiment, and your experience and uniform good conduct in the field, in my judgment, fairly entitle you to promotion. The orders alluded to have embarrassed me very much, but the Secretary of War has announced them as inflexible."