We were much pleased to turn our backs upon Fort Donelson, as the movement gave promise of an advance still farther into the South. In my letter dated Fort Henry, March 7, I write:—

"We left Donelson on the 5th. The roads were terribly muddy, and it took us two days to get here, about twelve miles. Besides, the weather was quite cold and snowing, being one of the most blustery days of March, making the march a most uncomfortable one. But we arrived here in pretty good season yesterday evening, and were fortunate to get into the same cabins we occupied when here before.

"The troops here are all embarking on steamboats, and it is understood that we are to go up the Tennessee River, how far we don't know, but hope through to Florence, Alabama. It is said (it is said, reported, understood, they say, are unofficial terms, you must understand) that none of the boats will leave till all the regiments are embarked, and that the whole fleet will move together. The river is very high, and on account of backwater we can't get nearer than four hundred yards of the boats.

"The Twenty-fourth Indiana went up the river this morning to find a convenient place to embark. We may have to go up there also to get aboard. Just as we were marching through the cold and snow last night I met Uncle Tom going down to the boat on his way home. He told me he had resigned, had caught a severe cold and had a bad cough. I think he has taken the best course, as his health can hardly stand the exposure."

I refer here to my mother's youngest brother, Captain Thomas Johnson, whose case was that of many other officers in our army. He had been suffering for some years with tuberculosis, and would not have been able to pass the physical examination to which the soldiers in the ranks were subjected, but the examination of the officers was less strict. He was not fitted for the service and ought not to have entered it, but his zeal to serve his country in the time of its sore trial was so great that he could not be persuaded to stay at home. As we expected, he broke down within a year of his enlistment. We shall see that he was not content to remain inactive at home after he was relieved of his attack of cold, and in less than six months he obtained an appointment in one of the new regiments, only to be again sent home before another year of campaigning was over.

As anticipated, the regiment was the next day ordered to go six miles up the river to get a convenient place of embarkation. The day following was spent in camp:—

"As I listened to our chaplain in his Sunday service to-day, how I wished I could have enjoyed our own church service at home with my wife. As I walked out through the woods this pleasant spring evening with Colonel Morgan, I could not help thinking of the times we enjoyed together in our many evening walks. I have been reading to-day the life of General Havelock, that noble Christian soldier. I was very much interested in the affectionate and touching letters he wrote his wife and children; they made me think of my absent ones....

"Adjutant —— has resigned, and as he wants to go home immediately, before his resignation can go to St. Louis, be accepted, and returned, he has applied for a leave of absence. If he gets it, I will send this letter by him. He puts his resignation on the ground of ill-health, but the young man is mistaken. A look at his fat jaws and healthy appearance will tell a different tale. He is in as good health as I am. The trouble with him is homesickness from love. We are out of the range of regular mails, and he can't get letters from his lady-love often. He can't endure the situation. We tried to talk him out of it, but he insists. He has at the best taken a bad time to resign, just on the eve of an important expedition against the enemy. I told him last night that no one wanted to be at home more than I did, and that if I could get out of the service honorably in view of my duty, I would do so, but this I could not do. He can draw his own inference. I think the young man is making a mistake personally. Here he is drawing a good salary, and at home he can do nothing, even if he wasn't too lazy."

The next letter was written on board a steamboat lying at the town of Savannah, Tennessee, dated the 12th:—

"Here we are away down on the southern border of Tennessee, only a few miles from Alabama and Mississippi, 'away down in Dixie.' We went on board the steamboats day before yesterday, the 10th, four companies on the Uncle Sam, and six companies on the Conewaga, the latter under my command. We have had a very pleasant trip up the river, being comfortably situated on the boat, and plenty of good eating. The Tennessee is quite a pretty river, but not very thickly settled immediately on its banks. At the farmhouses the people were collected in little groups, with waving handkerchiefs by the women, and frequent cheers for the Union. It was a new sight to the inhabitants, such an immense fleet of boats, black with troops, and bristling with cannon and munitions of war. The boats are all lying up here, most of them having arrived this morning, the river full of them on both sides. It is stated by officers who ought to know that we now have seventy steamers in the fleet, and that ten more are on the way....

"Remember me to Mr. McCarer and family. Tell him I am afraid we are persecuting our old-school, southside Presbyterian brethren, as they have called their General Assembly to meet in Memphis in May. I fear we shall get in the way of some of them, and scare them away.

"There is a set of chessmen on the boat, and I have had several pleasant games, the first for a long time. How I would like to take a game with my dear wife, as of old.

"Large numbers of Union men are coming in both to enlist and for refuge and protection. Some of them came more than a hundred miles and had to travel at night, fleeing from the persecutions and cruelties of the rebels."

Writing on the 16th, I report:—

"We are still lying at Savannah. More steamers with troops have arrived, so that now we have about ninety boats, and I estimate about sixty thousand soldiers. We are getting tired of staying on the boat, but it has been raining most of the time, and therefore our quarters are better than they would be ashore. The river has again risen and flooded over the banks."

Two days later I write:—

"We are still lying along the shore on the boats 'awaiting orders' rather impatiently too, the eighth day aboard. Yesterday we left Savannah and came a few miles up to a farm where we found a good landing. We turned our men out on the shore to enjoy the exercise and fresh air (it was a most beautiful day), while we had the boat thoroughly cleaned. The men had been kept cooped up on the boats for so long they enjoyed the day very much.

"We have a rumor of the taking of New Orleans by our forces from the Gulf, but can hardly credit it. It will be glorious news, if true, and a rapid step toward the end of the rebellion....

"I have no news; mostly write to let you know I am in the best of health and in safety."

At last my letter, dated in camp at Pittsburg Landing, gives account of our having left the boats:—

"We are now in camp about a mile from the river in a pleasant forest. How long we are to remain here we do not know, but as to-morrow is Sunday we may get our marching orders then! We are ordered to keep in readiness to march at one hour's notice. We are also ordered to take with us in each company wagon seven days' rations of provisions and five days' rations of grain for horses, besides three days' rations in each man's haversack, making ten days' rations. As the roads are now, we won't be able to travel very fast.

"Our force has been increasing every day by the arrival of new regiments. How large our army is I do not know, but the woods are perfectly alive with men. Regiments of tents are in every direction and extending for miles around. We have no doubt of our successful progress, whether it is to march upon Memphis or farther down South into the heart of 'Dixie.' You need have no fear for my personal safety, or for the success of our army. We are only hoping we shall be sent by rapid marches against Memphis, and when we get there you can come down and pay me another visit, if I cannot get off home for a few days."

March 24 I wrote:—

"I have not heard from you for two weeks, but to-day I have three letters from you and one from Father, and I can assure you your good, dear letters are most acceptable. I think of you and our dear little one so much and long for the time speedily to come when I can be with you again. I trust and believe that God is so ordering events that the time is not far removed. In the meantime we will hope and pray and be patient.

"You need not be the least troubled about me. I am in perfect health, and General Buell with more than one hundred thousand men is making a junction with us; so that our combined army of two hundred thousand has only to move to sweep every vestige of opposition out of the way, I don't think the enemy will make a stand before us at all."

The foregoing illustrates how little the subordinate officers know of an army's strength or its future. It is a common error to make exaggerated estimates of an army. The figures given above place the numbers of the joint armies of Grant and Buell at more than double their actual strength. And so far from sweeping the enemy before them, within two weeks from the writing of this letter Grant's gallant army was attacked in its own camp, and barely escaped being swept into the Tennessee River.

I wrote on the 27th: "I have been detailed by General Hurlbut as judge advocate of a general court-martial, and am kept very busy with its duties. That's what I get for being a lawyer."

A letter on March 31 has the following:—

"We had yesterday our monthly regimental inspection and in the afternoon we had a grand review of the division by General Hurlbut. In both these exercises it became necessary for me to command the regiment. The division review was very fine, the finest we have seen since we have been in the service. There were twelve regiments, with artillery and cavalry. Our regiment was highly commended by the general.

"It has been a week since I have had a letter from you. Probably you sent a letter by Schoenfield [the sutler], but if you did it has not come, neither has Schoenfield. He started up the Tennessee River with his stores, among which was some whiskey. The troops on the boat discovered the whiskey, broke it open, and got into a general drunk. The consequence was he was sent back to Paducah with all his stores. That's what you get for having your letter in company with whiskey! It reminds me that if you have a chance I would be very glad if you would send me a pint bottle of the best quality of pure brandy. The worst I have to fear in the army is diarrhoea, on account of bad water, especially in the warm weather. St. Paul was sensible when he recommended 'a little wine for the stomach's sake.' My little wife won't fear I am going to be a drunkard."

Some of the minor trials of a soldier's life are recorded in my letter of the 3d:—

"I have not told you that when we left the boats here, old Bill, our negro cook, left us. I caught him selling whiskey to the soldiers contrary to orders, and confiscated his whiskey, with a sharp lecture which he took so seriously as to quit us without notice. Surgeon Walker has loaned us his boy Frank, and he has been doing the cooking under my superintendence, and we haven't been living so bad either. Frank and I get up some first-rate meals. I do the plain cooking, such as frying potatoes and meat, making hash, cooking rice, beans, hominy, etc., while Frank makes the pies, biscuits, etc. We are not in danger of starving while Frank and I have charge of matters! We used up the last can of fruits to-night for supper of the fine lot you and mother sent us. I can assure you we relished them greatly; they come in very good place out here in the woods where our mess can't buy anything, and have to depend on the commissary supplies for all our eatables. Schoenfield is coming back to the regiment again, but you home-folks must not rob yourselves of fruits, preserves, apple-butter, catsup, etc., on our account!"

On April 2 I write:—

"I see by the newspapers that the great Waterloo is to take place up here in the vicinity of Corinth. Well, it hasn't taken place yet, and you can rest yourself in the assurance that it will hardly take place for some time to come. We are resting quietly in camp, except that we have our daily drills and parades and an occasional review. To-day Major-General Grant reviewed our entire division; the troops looked very well."

In a letter dated the next day, the 3d, I write:—

"The weather is very pleasant now. The trees are coming out in full bloom. I took a long ride out into the country to-day; went as far as it was safe to go this side of the rebels. The woods are full of wild flowers; I got quite a bouquet which I would love to have presented to my wife, but she was not here to get it; maybe I may enclose you some of the violets I have among them."

And yet notwithstanding the quietness and confidence prevailing in the army encamped at Pittsburg Landing, as indicated in these extracts from my letters, on the 2d of April the entire Confederate army under General A. S. Johnston had marched from Corinth, and on the 3d, the day I took my "long ride into the country," it was within striking distance of our camp, designing to make its united attack on Grant's army on the 5th. Being unexpectedly delayed one day, the rebel onslaught broke upon our lines at day-break on Sunday the 6th. Of the terrible two-days battle which ensued, I was able the night of the second day to write to my father a pretty full account:—

"Dear Father:—

"Tired, worn out, almost exhausted, I have just brought the remnant of the noble Twenty-fifth Indiana back into our old camp from the front of the hardest-fought, most strongly contested, and bloodiest battlefield upon the American continent. But I cannot lie down without first preparing a short account of it, to assure you of my own personal safety, the gallant conduct of our regiment, and the glorious triumph of our arms. A terrible conflict of two full days of continuous fighting has this evening left us in possession of the field which was at one time almost lost.

"Yesterday (Sunday) morning, about 6.30 o'clock, just after we had finished breakfast, we were attracted by a continuous roar of musketry, with occasional discharges of artillery on our extreme left, near the river. In a few minutes we were in line of battle, and moving forward to the attack. We had hardly left the camp before we saw the roads full of our flying men, and all along the route for the two miles we passed over were strewn guns, knapsacks, and blankets, and we found, to our dismay, that our front had been completely surprised, one whole division scattered and retreating in utter confusion, and the enemy in force already a mile within our camps.

"We were drawn up in line of battle, our brigade, under command of Colonel Veatch, in a skirt of timber bordering a large field, on the outer edge of which our troops were engaging the enemy. But the enemy pressed on in overwhelming force, and just as the troops in front of us began to waver, we discovered that the enemy had flanked us on the right and was rapidly advancing (in what force we knew not, but the woods were perfectly swarming), to attack our brigade on the right and rear. So it became necessary for us to change our front to the rear to meet them.

"The Fifteenth Illinois was on the right, the Fourteenth Illinois in the center, and the Twenty-fifth Indiana on the left, the other regiment, the Forty-sixth Illinois, by the rapid flanking of the enemy becoming detached from the brigade, was not with us again during the whole action. This brought the first fire upon the Fifteenth Illinois, which stood it nobly, but was soon overpowered; likewise, the Fourteenth. In the meantime the troops in front and on the left were completely routed by the enemy and came pell-mell right through our lines, causing some little confusion, and hardly had they passed through to the rear before the enemy were upon us, and here the fire of musketry was most terrible.

"Our men tried to stand up to it, but everything was breaking to pieces all around us, and it was more than we could do, short of annihilation. We poured in a few well-directed volleys, and reluctantly left the field—many of our men firing as they fell back. The loss here was very heavy. All the field officers of the Twenty-fifth Illinois were killed instantly, and many commissioned officers; two of our lieutenants were killed and three wounded, and one of our captains is either killed or a prisoner. We will make thorough search for him on the field in the morning.

"We left dead on this field fifteen men killed almost instantly on the first fire, and a large number wounded. At the first fire Lieutenant-Colonel Morgan was wounded in the leg (not seriously), and was immediately carried off the field. From this time I led the regiment in person. I did all I could to make the men contest the ground firmly as they fell back, and on the first favorable ground, about one hundred yards from the first line of battle, I planted the colors and mounted a fallen tree, and, waving my hat with all my might, I cheered and called upon the men to rally on the flag—never to desert their colors.

"All of the left wing responded to my call most nobly, and rallied with considerable alacrity under a most galling and dangerous fire. I did not see Colonel Morgan fall, and supposed he had charge of the right wing; but the various captains collected a large number of their men, and as soon as I got under cover of the regiments on the left and rear, they brought their men up and joined me, and I thus had still quite a battalion, notwithstanding the killed and number wounded, and the straying or lost ones. The men who came to me at this time had been 'tried in the furnace,' and were true men, and during all the trying scenes of the rest of the day and of to-day, they never faltered in obeying my commands, and did most bravely.

"As soon as our brigade was collected, Colonel Veatch moved us over to the right to support General McClernand's division, which was being very hard pressed by the enemy, said to be commanded by Beauregard. The left, so our prisoners report, was commanded by Bragg, and the center by Johnston. They also report that the column that attacked our brigade in the morning, of which I have just spoken, numbers twelve thousand, under Bragg, and that the whole force was near one hundred thousand; but we do not know, only that it was very large, sufficiently so to attack the entire line of our extensive camp in heavy force.

"In the afternoon our pickets reported the enemy advancing against us, on the left of General McClernand. As soon as we had drawn them well up by our picket skirmish under Captain Rheinlander, the Fourteenth Illinois flanked them, and was just beginning to pour upon them a heavy fire, while we were moving up to the assistance of the Fourteenth in fine style, when the whole mass of our left, which had, for five or six hours, been steadily and stubbornly contesting the victorious advance of the enemy in that direction, gave way in all directions, about half-past three, and came sweeping by us in utter and total confusion—cavalry, ambulances, artillery, and thousands of infantry, all in one mass, while the enemy were following closely in pursuit, at the same time throwing grape, canister, and shells thick and fast among them.

"It was a time of great excitement and dismay—it appeared that all was lost; but I was unwilling to throw our regiment into the flying mass, only to be trampled to pieces and thoroughly disorganized and broken. So I held them back in the wash on the side of the road until the mass of the rout had passed, when I put my men in the rear of the retreat, and by this means fell into a heavy cross-fire of the enemy, but I preferred that to being crushed to pieces by our own army. Here we lost a number of our men killed, and many wounded.

"Among those who fell, wounded badly in the leg, was Sergeant-Major William Jones, who had stood right by me fearlessly through the whole day. This rout decided that day's work. We were driven back nearly to the river landing, but the enemy kept pressing us in all the time, and, if, at this time, they had made a bold and united charge all along their line, we would have been totally and utterly routed; but a half-hour's apparent cessation of heavy firing gave our scattered forces time to rally, while the first two regiments of Buell's long-expected advance took position on the hill in the rear, and our forces fell back and formed with them near the landing for a final stand.

"About five o'clock in the evening the enemy made a heavy charge and attempted to carry this position. The contest was most terrible—the roar of musketry was one continuous peal for near half an hour. All that saved us was two heavy siege-pieces on the hill and the firmness of our men on this last stand. Night closed in on us, with almost the whole of our extensive camps in the hands of the enemy. It was a gloomy night for us all, and to add to our discomforts we had a heavy rain with no shelter. But we had saved enough ground to make a stand upon, and during the night twenty thousand fresh troops from Buell's army were transported across the river, and Lew Wallace moved up his division from below on our right.

"This morning at dawn of day began one of the grandest and most terrific battles ever fought. Buell moved forward on the left and center, and Wallace on the right, with their fresh troops, while Grant's army steadily followed them up and held the ground firmly as it was gained. From early in the morning until three o'clock in the afternoon the roar of musketry and artillery was one almost continuous thunder. It was grand beyond description. I have not time to tell you of it in this letter, and you will have it fully described in the newspapers.

"The enemy fought with great desperation and steadiness, but Wallace continued to press them on the right, driving them to the left, and Buell pressing them on the left, driving them to the right, until they were getting completely outflanked, when at three o'clock our brigade was ordered up to the front and center, and directed to charge the retreating enemy, but they traveled too fast for us. Nothing but cavalry could reach them. We remained on the outposts till evening, and then came in to get a good night's sleep in the tents of our own camp after the fatigues of a two days' steady fight. The night is terribly disagreeable—rainy and chilly—and tens of thousands of troops are sleeping on the bare ground with no covering, just as we did last night.

"Indiana has borne an honorable part in the great battle. I know that the Ninth, Eleventh, Twenty-fifth, Thirty-first, Thirty-second, Forty-fourth, and Fifty-seventh Regiments were engaged, and I think the Twenty-third and Twenty-fourth, with several others, I have no doubt, though I have been too busy on the field to know much of it—have not even had time yet to see Colonel Morgan or our wounded officers and men. The Forty-second was busy here to-day, but I hardly think it was in the fight, though it may have been. Thomson's Battery is said to have done noble work. Aleck [brother of the writer] was busy with the trains and baggage—the enemy came right up to our tents—the camp was shelled; he had to move wagons and baggage to the landing. Did his duty well. But we are back again to-night.

"I tried in this terrible conflict to do my duty well, and I am willing to leave to my officers and men the judgment.

"I forgot to mention Colonel Veatch. He acted with great coolness and courage, always with his brigade in the thickest of the fight. He had two horses shot under him, but escaped unharmed.

"I have written this hurried letter to you for the family, not the public. My deliverance was almost miraculous and I am grateful for it."

After finishing the foregoing letter, I wrote a short one to my wife:—

"My own dear Wife:—

"Your husband is still safe and unharmed, though he has passed through a most terrible and deathful battle, the bloodiest ever fought on the continent. While it was terrible, it was grand.

"I have just written a long letter to father, which is for you all. I would write you at length, but it is now past midnight, and after two days of hard fighting and one rainy night of gloomy and fearful watching, I need rest. You will excuse me, will you not?

"My dear Parke, God, our merciful Father, has been my shield and my protector; let us give Him all the glory.

"Captain Dudley Smith [a relative of my wife] is badly (not mortally) wounded. His regiment fought next to us, and I shook hands of encouragement with him not five minutes before he fell. Both his lieutenants and first sergeant were shot.

"I believe, my dear, that God will continue to preserve my life for you and my dear child. Live in hope and faith. I will write a long letter soon."

In the letter to my father, given above, I refer in commendation to my brother Alexander H. Foster, the regimental quartermaster. He rendered a most valuable service in saving all our camp and personal baggage. When during the first day's fighting it became evident that the battle was going against us, he brought up the wagons and loaded up all the company and headquarters baggage and outfit, and took them to the rear. The rebels occupied our tents on Sunday night, and would have plundered everything but for our quartermaster's thoughtfulness. He also displayed great daring in keeping us supplied with ammunition during the first day's heavy fighting.

Another incident respecting our tents may be noted. When attending the Harvard Law School, I had formed a very close friendship with a classmate from Alabama, Walter Bragg. I corresponded with him for some time, but lost sight of him when the war began. Years after he came to Washington to fill an important official position. I learned from him then that on Sunday night of the Shiloh battle his regiment occupied the camp of the Twenty-fifth Indiana, and he slept in our headquarters tent.

General Grant in his "Personal Memoirs" says: "The battle of Shiloh was the severest battle fought at the West during the war, and but few in the East equaled it for hard, determined fighting." General Sherman, in his "Memoirs," characterizes it as "one of the most fiercely contested of the war."

The number of the Confederate forces engaged in the battle, as reported by Beauregard, was 40,955. Grant reports the Federal forces in the first day's fighting at 33,000, and that on the second day he was reinforced by General Lew Wallace with 5000 and from Buell's army with 20,000. The losses of the Federals were, killed 1754, wounded 8408, missing 2934. The Confederate losses were, killed 1728, wounded 8012, and missing 957. In my official report I placed the loss of the Twenty-fifth Indiana at 149.

While the battle was recognized as a distinct Union victory, it was followed in the North by severe criticism of the generalship displayed on the Federal side. Sherman says that "probably no single battle of the war gave rise to such wild and damaging reports"; and in his "Memoirs" Grant writes: "The battle of Shiloh or Pittsburg Landing has been perhaps less understood, or, to state the case more accurately, more persistently misunderstood, than any other engagement during the entire rebellion."

The main criticisms were three in number: first, that no intrenchments or fortifications of any kind were made to protect the encampment; second, that our army was surprised; and, third, that the retreating enemy was not pursued. It is generally conceded that the encampment was well located for defense, as three sides were protected by the river and creeks full of water. Sherman, in discussing the first criticism in later years, said, "The position was naturally strong; ... we could have rendered this position impregnable in one night." General Force, in reviewing the battle after the close of the war, wrote: "The army had many things to learn, and the use of field fortifications was one of them."

The charge that our camp was surprised was indignantly denied by both Generals Grant and Sherman, and they produce statements of fact, not generally understood at the time, which seem to sustain their contention. But a different impression was generally prevalent in the camp. One of the most intelligent and daring of the Civil War correspondents was a young man writing under the nom-de-plume of "Agate," who became afterwards well known throughout the world, Whitelaw Reid. He was on the battlefield during the two days' fighting and wrote lengthy reports of the battle. His contention was that it was a complete surprise. Years afterwards he had a discussion on this matter with General Sherman, and in the course of it he cited my letter to my father, above quoted, to sustain his contention.

Doubtless the rebel army would have been much more demoralized and have sustained great loss in military equipment and supplies, if it had been vigorously pursued. The greater part of Grant's army was so reduced and fatigued as not to be able to make an effective pursuit of the retreating Confederates, but Buell's army was not in that condition. Publications made after the war by Grant and Buell make it plain that there was want of harmony, if not an unfriendly spirit, that prevented the cordial coÖperation which might have made the battle much more decisive.

For some months previous to the battle of Shiloh General Halleck had been commanding the Department of the West, with his headquarters at St. Louis, from which place he was directing the movements of the armies. Immediately after this battle he came to Pittsburg Landing, arriving on April 11, and, assuming personal command, he began the reorganization and reinforcement of the army in the vicinity, for a march on Corinth, where it was understood the Confederates were concentrating. This step on his part had the effect of practically relieving General Grant from command.

The news of the battle and heavy losses suffered by the Union forces awakened throughout the country great interest and sympathy, and from all the leading cities of the West located on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers steamers were chartered and dispatched to the battlefield, loaded with hospital supplies, volunteer surgeons, and friends of the soldiers. A boat was sent from Evansville, and among the passengers was my brother George, bringing letters from home and delicacies for the wounded soldiers of the Twenty-fifth and our mess. In a letter of the 11th, four days after the battle, I wrote to my wife:—

"I can assure you I was glad to see the Bowen with a load of our kind friends after the terrible experience of the last week, and to know that the great patriotic heart of the Nation was going out in sympathy and in acts of mercy to our suffering wounded, who have been so sadly, cruelly neglected by our army general medical officers. I thank you and Eliza and Eleanor [my sisters] and our good friends at home for their presents. In our hard-fought battle of last Sunday the enemy drove us back clear behind our camp and rascally carried off or devoured all our eatables, and your delicacies came just in time to be fully appreciated.

"I haven't seen Captain Smith since he was wounded. I suppose he has gone down the river in the boats. You remember I wrote you we were on a court-martial together; I was finally excused from it to take command of our regiment. I saw Colonel Harlan [afterwards Justice of the United States Supreme Court; married Miss Shanklin, of Evansville] to-day. He was in good health. His regiment is lying near us, in the woods without tents. I meet a large number of acquaintances in the Indiana regiments of Buell's army.

"I send by George a copy of my official report of the Twenty-fifth. Tell father I cannot have it published yet, but I thought he and our home folks would want to read it, but don't circulate it too freely. As soon as I can get the necessary consent, I will have both Colonel Veatch's brigade and my regimental reports sent home for publication. I am anxious that our regiment should have a fair share of the honor, as it had of the fighting.

"Say to father and our friends that our regiment fought bravely and did itself and the State credit. I had the entire responsibility of the command. I believe I did my duty well; all assure me of it in the highest terms. I know I saved the regiment from disgrace and annihilation by a little daring exposure and vigorous encouragement of our men. This I write freely, but privately, to you and father. It is a great consolation to me as a citizen to know I have done my duty, but it is a further gratification to know that my friends at home give me credit for it."

On the 13th I write about the return of the steamer Bowen to Evansville:—

"I was much out of humor because they let the boat be filled up with slightly wounded of other regiments, and left thirty or forty of our badly wounded Twenty-fifth in the hospitals at Savannah, to linger and suffer from neglect and bad treatment, and run the chance of getting home on the charity of other parts of the State. But I suppose the committee in charge did what they thought was for the best; still, we are naturally sensitive and jealous for the comfort of our own men."

In my letter of the 13th I speak of the difficulty of getting my letters. Officers and men of the regiment were constantly going and coming from Evansville on furlough or sick-leave, and they were often availed of to carry mail matter, as the mail was not regular, but I note one instance in which my letters by private hand did not reach me for thirty days. I tell my wife:—

"When you can't have opportunities of sending letters to me by private means, send them by mail; they will get here afterwhile, and they are never old. Your letter of Sunday was seven days in coming. I have just received your three letters sent by Schoenfield. They were a little behind time, being dated March 14! but they were still very welcome. I received by him the 'Evangelist' and 'Independent.' I always like to get them, especially the 'Evangelist,' as it gives a little variety to my religious reading.

"Colonel Morgan's father arrived in camp to-day, expecting to find the colonel nearly dead, and found he had gone home only slightly wounded. These newspaper reporters ought to be severely punished for their wicked and foolish exaggerations. The idea of reporting twenty thousand of our troops and forty thousand of the rebels killed and wounded serves only to fearfully excite the country, and is so very grossly absurd. It was a terrible fight, but not such as was reported in the first dispatches. These reporters see but little of the fight, hear a great deal, and tell all they hear and a great deal more.

"I have nothing new to write, but thought you would love to hear after this terrible battle. Be cheerful, hopeful and patriotic."

My letter of the 15th was in the most desponding tone since I had entered the service. It must be confessed it presented a sorry picture of the 1046 stalwart men who left Evansville eight months before for the war:—

"I enclose you an extract from a communication addressed to our brigade commander. You will see from it that our regiment is pretty well used up, between sickness and the bullets of the enemy, having suffered more than any other regiment from Indiana in battle. In this condition of affairs, I feel constrained to ask that the regiment be somewhat relieved.

"Aleck has been troubled with camp dysentery, and wants to resign soon but I have been doing all I can to keep him up and in good spirits, and to stay with us."

Col. James C. Veatch,
Commanding Second Brigade, Fourth Division.
Sir:—

Permit me to call your attention to the present condition of the Twenty-fifth Regiment, Indiana Volunteers.

In the late action at Fort Donelson we sustained a loss in killed and wounded of one hundred and fifteen, and in the late battle of Pittsburg Landing of one hundred and forty-nine, making a total of two hundred and sixty-four. A number of the wounded have since died; a large number are entirely disabled for any military duty, and nearly all of the wounded will be unfit for duty for some time.

There are now absent from the regiment, sick, three hundred and nine enlisted men, and sick in the regiment one hundred and thirty, making a total sick of four hundred and thirty-nine.

I am left in sole command of the regiment, the lieutenant-colonel being wounded and the adjutant having resigned. Three of our most efficient officers were killed in the late action, and six of them severely wounded and disabled. Two of our captains absent; one of them badly wounded at Fort Donelson, the other sick. Three other of our captains broken down with continuous sickness and hard service, and are asking that they may be relieved or resign. We now report only three hundred and eighty-seven men for duty.

Under date of the 18th I write:—

"It is now nearly two weeks since the battle, and our camp is again resuming its quiet and accustomed ways, as if no terrible conflict had taken place over these grounds. All our wounded are gone, and are now in the hospitals at home. I hope they will be well cared for, as I am sure they will be.

"We don't know how long we will stay here, or what are the intentions of the generals; but I think we shall remain for at least ten days. General Halleck will hardly move till he has his army so disposed as to make victory certain. He says, so it is reported, that enough lives have been lost here, and that he will accomplish the rest without much fighting. I suppose you all hope this will be the case. General Hurlbut says he will not take his division into the next battle, if he can prevent it, owing to its heavy losses in the late battle. In our regiment and the brigade every third man was either killed or wounded.

"So you may rest in considerable quiet, as I think the probabilities of us having much fighting is very remote. But if it becomes necessary and we are called upon, we will do our duty; you would want us to do nothing less. I never expect to witness such another battle in my life; it was most terrible and grand. I could not describe it; it is only to be seen and heard. I had no conception of what a battle was before. The Fort Donelson fight was a mere skirmish by the side of it. You will preserve all things of interest in the papers, especially relating to our regiment in the battle; but there were so many regiments in the fight we do not expect to get much notice, especially as we have no reporters in our employ. I trust, my dear Parke, you will have confidence in my continued safety and health, wishing for a happy termination of our troubles and my speedy return, remembering that I will not expose myself or our regiment more than is essential to our duty, safety, and honor. I send many kisses to my darling little daughter."

My letter of the 20th acknowledges the receipt of the first letter from my wife after the battle of Shiloh:—

"You cannot know how glad I was to receive your letter of the 12th. I have read it over many, many times during the last two hours since I received it. When I read your letter and knew with what feelings of joy you learned of my safety, I could not keep back the tears. I have something to live for and something to encourage me to do my duty bravely, when I am assured of so dear and loving a wife and such good relatives and friends. I was very anxious to hear from you after the battle, and this was the first letter. I knew there would be great anxiety at home both for myself and the regiment, so I sent full particulars and list of the killed and wounded by the first opportunity."

I have already given a copy of the letter I wrote my father the night after the second day's fighting. Although I cautioned him that it was only for the family, and not for the public, he was so much pleased with and proud of it that he let the newspaper men take a copy of it. The "New York Tribune," in publishing it on April 22, headed it with this comment: "The following account of the great battle, written by Major John W. Foster, of the Twenty-fifth Indiana, is the most clear relation we have yet met with." In my letter to my wife of the 20th I make this comment: "I was very sorry to see my letter to father in the newspapers. I did not want it published. I so stated to him. I don't want to blow my own trumpet. If the people at home can't learn of my exploits in some other way, it is better that they should not hear them at all. Don't publish any more of my letters unless I give my consent."

But other accounts than mine were published. I make an extract from one of them written the day after the battle: "The Twenty-fifth has gained fresh renown, and can point to their thinned ranks as the record of their part in that dreadful fray. Colonel Veatch had two horses shot under him while commanding the brigade. Lieutenant-Colonel Morgan was wounded in the first fierce charge that brought down so many of his men. Major Foster was everywhere in the thickest of the fight, leading the charge or directing the backward movement. The men will follow those officers anywhere and Indiana may justly be proud of them."

In my letter of the 20th, I report a proposed movement of our camp:—

"Our old camp becoming unpleasant after the great slaughter of men and animals in the battle, we have been ordered to a new camp four miles nearer the enemy. We made our preparations, but a heavy rain has delayed.

"I think when Colonel Morgan rejoins the regiment, after we have whipped the rebels at Corinth and our men have a prospect of a little rest, I will have to manage to get sick!—and by this means get a sick-leave of a month, and come home to see my little daughter to keep her from growing entirely out of my knowledge, and to enjoy the long-desired society of my dear wife and friends. But I won't set my heart upon it, neither must you, for the probabilities are we will have to finish up this rebellion before any of us can get home. Then I will come and make a lifelong visit with you; for it will take a very loud and patriotic call from my country to make me leave my family again."

In my letter of the 21st I note an event which led to an important change in my military service. My wife had two brothers, younger than herself, Theodore, a student in the senior class at the State University, and Alexander, then a clerk in the post-office at Evansville. When the war broke out Alexander (or "Zan") was very anxious to enlist, but he was only sixteen years old, and we refused our consent largely on account of his youth, and besides, as I was about to enter the service, I wanted him to stay at home to look after my wife and their mother. But after the successive victories at Donelson and Shiloh, and he heard from the returned soldiers about me, he became restless to join our regiment. I refer to him in my letter of the 25th:—

"I sent Zan a telegram and also wrote him a letter yesterday, saying if Theodore could take his place in the post-office, I would have him made a lieutenant and assign him to duty as regimental commissary. But I do not want you to be left at home without one of the boys with you, while I am away, and he is not to come without the approval of father and his mother.

"Another reason which has caused me to decide for him to come, on the above conditions, was that Aleck [my brother] has been a little unwell for some weeks, is getting tired, insists on going out of the service, and says he has only stayed on my account. He says if Zan comes he can act as commissary and he (Aleck) will stay a month until Zan gets posted in the business; and we can have him appointed regimental quartermaster. If Aleck goes home, as he seems determined to do, I would like to have Zan with me, as I don't fancy being here alone."