War Stories for my Grandchildren

by John Watson Foster

"I am glad to assure you that in this long interval of suspense I have been in good health and I think discharging my duties to the entire satisfaction of my superior officers. I am very well satisfied at being ordered away from Henderson and placed in active service. It has given me a very prominent and choice command, and brought me in close contact with the commanding generals of the army. During the past three weeks I have been in close and intimate relationship with Generals Burnside and Hartsuff, and acting directly under their orders.

"We have been for a week at this place in front of an army of rebels at Jonesboro twenty miles above here, momentarily expecting an attack. I think that within a few days we will make a movement that will completely drive them out of Tennessee. If so you may expect to hear of the Second Brigade dashing away up onto the sacred soil of Virginia. I have a very good brigade of near three thousand effective men. For the present I am holding this position with my brigade and two regiments of infantry till General Burnside comes up with the army which is on the way. Several times a day I am called to the telegraph office for conversations over the wires with General Burnside on the situation at the front and he freely calls for my views as to movements. He is a very kind-hearted and pleasant gentleman, and willing to give every officer his full share of credit. I write thus freely to my wife of these matters because she will be interested to know them and to her it will not appear boasting or self-praise.

"I wish I had time to prepare a letter for the friends at home on the state of affairs in East Tennessee, and give a simple narrative of facts as to what the Union men have suffered. Such cruelty, such oppression, and heartless wrong has no parallel at least on this continent. It may have been equaled by the barbarians of Europe. No wonder that the people receive us with tears and perfect ecstasy of rejoicing and unbounded enthusiasm. The rejoicing and demonstrations I have witnessed will be probably the brightest of my reminiscences of the war. No wonder these people have wept tears of joy at the sight of the old flag, for it has brought to them freedom from a tyrannical oppression. It was the happiest epoch of my life to first carry that flag into Knoxville, and to bear it in the advance along up this valley for more than a hundred miles, and receive the welcome of the loyal people. And I hope in a few days to have the honor to say that we have driven the enemy entirely beyond the borders of the State.

"At our advance men have come to us all bleached and weak, who have been hiding in the rocks and caves and in pits away from the light of day for months. Men have been chased through the mountains for conscription in the rebel service, and a bounty offered for their arrest or death. Women have been driven from their homes, and their houses and their all were burnt before them, because their husbands were in the Union army. The scaffolds were to be seen where loyal men were hung for suspicion of bridge-burning without any trial whatever. The tales of cruelty and wrong which I have heard go to make up a history of tyranny which will be the blackest record of this slaveholders' rebellion.

"There is a valley over the line in North Carolina about twenty-five miles from this place, just under the shadow of the Great Smoky Mountains, almost shut out from the world. The valley along the creek is rich and inhabited by a bold but simple race of men. These men, partaking of the true spirit of the mountains, were true and unalterably attached to the Government, and no bribes or threats could induce them to go into the Southern army. There was but a small community of them and they were unanimous. When the conscripting officers came to take them into the army by force and the foragers to carry off their horses and provisions, they met them along the mountain-sides with their squirrel-rifles and drove them back; it was almost worth a Confederate officer's life to venture into the valley. Finally they sent a large force of cavalry and Indians among them and drove the mountaineers before them. They fled to their hiding-places and none of the men fit for military duty could be found. The cavalry gathered up all their horses and cattle. The women and children, old men and boys, were left at home, thinking them safe from conscription. The savage traitors drove the families from their houses and burnt them and everything in them. But this was not all. The old men, the women, and children were driven out of the valley and made to walk on foot over the mountains and down to Greenville. Old and prominent citizens of this place have told me that it was the most pitiable sight they ever beheld. A stout-hearted and manly citizen in talking to me about it could not restrain the tears, saying that he never related the circumstances without tears, because it brought the sight so vividly before him. Women came carrying children in their arms, with other little ones barefooted and almost naked clinging to their skirts. There were women of all ages and children driven like sheep before the soldiers. There were women in a most delicate situation who were made to walk with the rest; if the suffering were the greater the punishment was the more appropriate. They were brought to the railway station and kept over night, and it was the determination of General (called 'Mudwall' in contradistinction to 'Stonewall') Jackson in command here to send them over the Cumberland Mountains to Kentucky. Governor Vance of North Carolina heard of the brutal proceeding in time, and declared that women and children should not be banished from his State so long as he was its governor, and they were ordered to be returned.

"Since then these men of the Laurel Valley have been the wild men of the mountains. Their homes have been in the caves and cliffs of the rocks, and woe to the rebel soldier who came within range of their rifles. The most vigorous measures have been taken to ferret them out, but few of them have ever been caught, their hiding-places and their daring were a good protection. A company of them twice attempted to break through and cross the Cumberland Mountains to join the Union army in Kentucky, but were driven back before they could get out of East Tennessee. Day before yesterday a company of over fifty of these brave men came over from the mountains and asked me for help. An old man, who was the spokesman and the wise man of the valley, said they were a poor, ignorant, wild set of 'cusses' who didn't know much but devotion to the flag of their country and how to shoot. He asked me to give them a little good advice and some guns. I could not refuse the latter, at least. I gave them the arms and sent them home, and a merciful God will have to protect the savages who have murdered their fathers, plundered their farms, burnt their houses, and driven their wives and mothers from their homes, for these men with their muskets will not remember mercy.

"This is no fancy sketch or exaggerated story of the war. It is the plain, unvarnished truth, to be vouched for by hundreds of citizens of Greenville. Could you have believed that such atrocity could have been committed in the land of Washington? This same General Jackson is now in front of us, and I have been asking General Burnside for days to let my brigade after him, but he withholds for the present. It will not be many days before I shall try to capture him or drive him out of East Tennessee, I hope forever."

The expedition from which I had so greatly longed to drive out the rebel General Jackson, and which General Burnside had promised, did not come off. General Rosecrans had suffered a severe repulse at Chickamauga, and Burnside was ordered to give him what support he could. This brought all of Burnside's plans above Knoxville to a dead halt. Bragg's rebel cavalry was reported to have crossed the Tennessee River and was threatening Rosecrans's rear, and all of Burnside's cavalry was ordered to follow up Bragg's movement. My next letter was written at Knoxville, October 1, to which place I had come with my brigade. On arrival here I was still without letters from home. I had attempted to telegraph, but could get no replies. Apparently my disconsolate condition had worked upon General Burnside's sympathy, as he sent a telegram in his own name inquiring about the whereabouts and health of my wife, which soon brought an answer that she was at Evansville and "all well." How this news was received is told in the letter:—

"You can hardly imagine how gratifying it is to me to know to-night that my dear wife and children are well, from whom I am so far separated. I can go to-morrow to execute the orders of the general with much more alacrity that I now know that you are well and at home.

"Aside from its inaccessibility for the mails, I find East Tennessee a very pleasant country to be in. The Union people are very kind and friendly, the climate is very healthy, and the valley of East Tennessee one of the most beautiful in America. I tell the people here that if we can get peace again and they will abolish slavery, I would like very well to come and live with them. I have been very kindly and considerately treated by them. Being in the advance all the time, I have been the first to make their acquaintance, and they consequently know me better than others. I need not live in camp at all while about Knoxville. I have been here now four days and have had only one meal in camp. The society of the Union people of Knoxville is very pleasant and quite cultivated.