No portion of the people of our country had shown more devotion to the Union or suffered greater hardships on account of their loyalty during the Civil War than the citizens of East Tennessee. Almost the entire population of military age had fled over the mountains into Kentucky and enlisted in the Federal army. And those who remained—the old men, the women and the children—endured many privations and much persecution. It had long been the desire of the Federal Government to occupy East Tennessee with troops and free the loyal people from their oppression, and President Lincoln in 1863 determined that this relief should no longer be delayed.

The army under General Burnside numbered approximately twenty thousand men, a force which it was thought was sufficient for the purpose in view of the fact that General Rosecrans with a much larger army was moving from middle Tennessee toward Chattanooga and northern Georgia. In a letter to my wife from Glasgow, dated the 18th of August, I say:—

"We arrived here yesterday. Found marching orders for this morning to go to Burksville with our brigade. The brigade left this morning, but I got permission to stay over to-day to shoe horses and more fully equip the regiment. The indications are that the cavalry division will go direct to Knoxville, after a few days' delay at Burksville."

From Ray's Cross Roads, I write on the 20th:—

"We reached here yesterday. How many days we will remain I do not know. We are anxious to move forward, wanting to get into East Tennessee as soon as possible. I drilled my regiment to-day, had a good dress parade, and made a very fine appearance. I think there is no regiment in the corps that will make a better show. It attracts very general attention. We are stopped here waiting for the supply trains to come up. If it were not for the stomachs of men and horses an army could accomplish wonders. Kiss little Edith for me and tell Alice her papa thinks of her very often and loves her very much."

A letter the next day from the same place says:—

"We leave at 11 A.M., camp to-night at Marrowbone, to-morrow at Burksville, thence to Albany and Jamestown, Tennessee. I am well and in good spirits. Do not be uneasy if you do not hear from me very soon again, as we shall probably draw in our couriers and close our line of communication to-morrow. The Twenty-third Army Corps has one cavalry division of three brigades, each brigade consisting of four regiments and one battery; also one independent brigade of cavalry. The second brigade is the one in which is our regiment, and is commanded by Brigadier-General Hobson. You see we have a very strong force of cavalry, with which we can overrun the whole of East Tennessee and a good part of North Carolina, if we can ever get through the gaps and over the mountains, and can manage to take along with us our supply of forage and rations.

"General Hobson is absent from the brigade sick. I am the senior colonel of the brigade, and in the absence of the general, I will be entitled to command. Before I arrived, Colonel Graham, Fifth Indiana, was commanding, and as I had even more than I could well attend to, and as General Hobson was expected soon, I did not ask for the command, and will not do so unless I learn that General Hobson will not be able to join us soon. My regiment is the largest (and I think the best) in the brigade, having eight hundred and fifty fighting men with us."

On August 28, I wrote:—

"We have been here in the vicinity of Jamestown for a few days. We are out of forage for our horses, and have to get green corn and what hay, straw, and oats we can find, feeding them also on wheat and rye. We are up on the top of the mountains, and the soil is very poor, the farms small, and there is little forage of any kind; consequently, if we stay here much longer we shall be driven to pretty close straits for our horses and possibly for rations for ourselves. We are already short and very little prospect of any soon, but as long as there is green corn the men will not starve. The route from Glasgow is very hilly and rugged, and we had great difficulty in getting our wagons over it. We are now up on the level of the mountains where it is not so hilly. All the country is very poor, and the only good features about it are that it is healthy, has good water, and a goodly number of Union people. I will take command of the brigade to-day, as General Hobson is still sick at home. When we are so straitened for forage and rations the responsibility is great and the task not a very desirable one."

My next letter dated September 2, gave an account of our occupation of Knoxville, the goal of our long march over the mountains:—

"Yesterday was the proudest day of my life. Sunday last Generals Burnside and Curtis came up and a juncture of the forces was formed at Montgomery. My brigade arrived at that place on Saturday in advance of all other. On Sunday afternoon General Burnside sent for me to report, and I received orders to move my brigade five miles to the front. This seemed to indicate that I would be permitted to keep the advance and we were all well pleased. But about daylight the First Cavalry Brigade marched past us and out to the front on the Kingston road, and we had no orders to move. At sunrise, the Third Cavalry Brigade (General Shackelford) passed by and out to the front toward the reported enemy on the Kingston road. I began to be impatient and somewhat disgusted. I waited for two hours more very anxiously, but no marching orders came.

"At nine o'clock Generals Burnside and Curtis, with their staffs and escorts, came up and I thought then we were to go clear to the rear. But they halted at my headquarters, came in, and after examining the organization of my brigade, General Burnside held a private interview with me, in which he told me he wanted me to take my brigade on the Knoxville road and force Winter's Gap, which would flank the enemy on the right and compel them to fall back, when, if matters went on smoothly, he would give me orders to push right on to Knoxville. Nothing could have suited me better. I would rather then have had those orders than to have received the commission of a general. So at 11 o'clock I formed my brigade, and, leaving every one of our wagons behind, marched to Winter's Gap, arriving there at sundown and occupied it, finding that the enemy had fled in the morning. I reported promptly to General Burnside, and about four o'clock yesterday morning I received orders to push on into Knoxville and occupy the town, attacking any force of rebels which might be there.

"We were in motion within an hour, and all along the road, as everywhere heretofore in our march through East Tennessee, we were received with the warmest expressions and demonstrations of joy. In the morning I expected that I would not be able to take the town without a fight, but as my brigade had been assigned the post of honor, I was satisfied it would do its full duty. A few miles before we reached the town we ascertained that the rebels had all left, the last of them that morning. The Fifth Tennessee Cavalry, which was in the advance, surrounded the town, and about four o'clock yesterday afternoon I rode into town with the staff and escort, and such an ovation as we received was never before during this war given to any army. The demonstration beggars all description. Men, women, and children rushed to the streets,—no camp-meeting shouting ever exceeding the rejoicing of the women. They ran out into the streets shouting, 'Glory! Glory!' 'The Lord be praised!' 'Our Savior's come!' and all such exclamations. The men huzzahed and yelled like madmen, and in their profusion of greetings I was almost pulled from my horse. Flags long concealed were brought from their hiding-places. As soon as I could get to a hotel I was waited upon by the mayor (a true Union man) and a large number of loyal men, prominent citizens, and they received me with heartiest congratulations and welcome. All afternoon and into the night until the provost guard sent all citizens to their homes the streets resounded with yells, and cheers for the 'Union' and 'Lincoln.' A marked feature of the loyalty of this section (so different from western Kentucky) is that the people have no scruples about hurrahing for Lincoln,—they recognize him as the leader and head of the Government.

"It is stated that last night, after the occupation of the town, the intelligence was communicated to the people throughout the country by the firing of guns from place to place and by signal fires on the mountains. And this morning the streets were crowded with people from the country far and near, and such rejoicing I never saw before. How they shouted and stood with uncovered heads beneath the old Stars and Stripes. With what sincere welcome they met the soldiers. The mayor of the city brought forth an immense flag, which he had kept, waiting anxiously for the day when he could unfurl it. This was suspended early this morning over Main (or Gay) Street, and at the sight of it the people as they came in from the country yelled with a perfect frenzy of delight. Early in the day a procession of ladies was formed, and bearing two American flags, they marched down Main Street and under the large flag, in order that they might fulfill a vow they made early in the war that they would in a body march under the first American flag raised in Knoxville. It does soldiers good to fight for such a people. It is a labor of love. Every soldier in my brigade has been paid a hundred times over since we came into East Tennessee for all our hardships, short rations and exposures, by the hearty welcome of the people. We can see upon their faces the recognition of the fact that we have delivered them from a cruel bondage.

"Although the rebels have for five days been removing their property, we came upon the town so suddenly yesterday that we captured a large amount of army property, five locomotives, a number of cars, and saved the mills, foundry, railroad works, hospitals, and other army buildings from burning.

"I went yesterday to visit the prison where the rebels kept the Union men confined. It is a dirty, filthy, jail, hardly fit for the lowest criminals. I saw the room in which Parson Brownlow was confined. On the wall of it in large black letters is written,—'Death to our persecutors.'

"When we came in on Tuesday the gallows was standing near the railroad, at the edge of the town, where the Union men were dragged from the jail and, contrary to all law and civilized warfare, hung like felons for faithfulness to their Government. You will find something of this in Brownlow's narrative. I rode over to see it as soon as I could on the morning after we arrived, and to place a guard over it, but some enraged soldiers and citizens had gone there before me and cut it down and burnt it. I was sorry, because it was in a prominent place and I wanted it preserved as a monument of the wickedness and cruelty of the persecutors of these people.

"We had this morning a fresh outbreak of patriotism. The news of the Federal occupation of the town had by last night spread into the adjoining counties, and the people flocked in from every direction. A large delegation of men and women of all ages formed in long procession (from Sevier County) and carrying the American flag, paraded through the town and out to camp, and the town again ran wild with patriotic joy. Men who had been hiding among the rocks and caves of the mountains, and who had not seen each other for years or since the rebellion broke out, stood grasping each other's hands beneath the folds of the old flag, while tears streamed down their cheeks. I have read of 'tears of joy,' but never saw so much of it as here.

"But General Burnside and the rest of the army will be in town this evening and I must get ready to receive them, so good-bye for the present."

In my letter of the 7th I gave an account of my first expedition out of Knoxville:—

"A day or two after his arrival General Burnside sent for me to say that he had received information which he thought was reliable to the effect that the rebels had left the railroad up as far as Bristol, on the Virginia line one hundred and thirty miles, in good condition and unguarded; that at Bristol there was a round-house and a great supply of locomotives and cars; and that it was very desirable to get possession of this rolling-stock, if possible. He proposed that I make up a train out of the rolling-stock I had captured on my occupation of Knoxville and go up the railroad as far as I could do so safely, and reach Bristol if possible.

"It was a new business for me to go a-soldiering on a railroad train, but I cheerfully undertook the expedition. I had to secure the engineer and brakemen out of my own command, as there were none others available. Putting three of the companies of the Sixty-fifth dismounted on the train, we started out early in the afternoon, hoping to get over a good part of the road before dark, but within ten miles of Knoxville we encountered a small bridge burnt, but with the tools we had brought with us some of our expert railroad men were able to arrange a temporary crossing for the train. It was nearly dark when we reached Strawberry Plains, only seventeen miles out, and here we stopped the train, as I had learned that the President of the railroad lived here, and he would probably be at home, as he had fled from Knoxville before our arrival. I took a small guard with me to his house, where I found him. I explained that our general had sent me on an expedition up his road toward the Virginia line, and as we had no one on the train who was familiar with the road, I should esteem it a great favor if he would accompany us. Seeing the situation with my armed guard, he accepted the invitation with the best grace possible, but as we moved off the ladies of the household set up a fearful wailing, beseeching me not to take him, as they felt sure he was going to his death, notwithstanding I assured them that no harm should come to him.

"After comfortably seating the President, I took post with the brigade bugler on top of a pile of wood on the locomotive tender, and the train moved off at slow speed in the darkness on the strange road, without a stop until we reached Jonesboro, ninety-eight miles from Knoxville, after midnight. Here our engineer, not being familiar with the switches, ran the fore wheels of his locomotive off the track. While a few of us dismounted to aid in getting on the track again, I discovered that another train was lying on the track with a lot of invalid Confederate soldiers, who told us the train had just arrived that evening from Richmond. About the same time we heard a great commotion in the town, with loud military commands indicating the presence of troops. It was very dark and we were strange to the locality, but I ordered out a platoon of soldiers, who fired a volley or two in the direction of the noise, which was followed by a great clatter of horses' hoofs. The next day, as we came back, the citizens told us that the rebel troopers could be seen in all directions flying away, some bareback, others without firearms or hats. It proved to be a detachment of Confederate cavalry stationed in the town.

"At Jonesboro we learned from the station employees that another train would be due from Richmond about eight o'clock in the morning. Thirteen miles above that place the railroad crossed the Watauga River, where there was a rebel blockhouse or fort protected by artillery, and which we learned was garrisoned. Our only hope of getting to Bristol was to capture the incoming train and rush our own train unawares into the fort and take the garrison by surprise. So after leaving a guard in charge of the train found at Jonesboro, we moved up quietly about day-break to the first station this side of the fort, surrounded the town with orders to allow no one to pass out, and we lay quietly in ambush waiting for the train. Sure enough, it came along on time and we were greatly elated. But just before it got within gunshot of our ambush, it whistled down the brakes, stopped, and instantly ran backwards at full speed and whistling into the fort. Some one had given them a warning signal, and the fort was at once notified of our presence. With that our expedition to Bristol came to an end. General Burnside had been misinformed. The railroad above Knoxville was not only guarded but was in use from Richmond.

"Our return journey was uneventful except that, as we neared Jonesboro, some of the soldiers we had scattered had quite dexterously loosened a rail and slightly displaced one end at a sharp curve in the road on a down grade, which tumbled our locomotive down an embankment and disabled it. Several of the soldiers were bruised and the railroad President got a few slight scratches on his face. Fortunately we had the captured locomotive, and with it we took all the cars back to Knoxville. Our return was on Sunday, and as the news of our passing up in the night had got noised about, the whole country turned out in gala dress and with flags to welcome us."

My next letter is from Greenville, seventy-four miles above Knoxville on the railroad, the home of Andrew Johnson, afterwards President of the United States. It is dated September 12:—

"I have my brigade at this place, as also the One Hundred and Third Ohio Infantry assigned to my command and stationed here as a provost guard. Generals Burnside and Hartsuff (corps commander) have been very pleasant and kind and are disposed to do everything they can for me. They promise to send me on an expedition by way of Bristol into Virginia to destroy the Salt Works, probably the most important movement left in East Tennessee. I am in very good health and spirits."

We were still at Greenville on September 16. My chief trouble seemed to be with the mails. I had not heard from home for nearly a month. I write my wife:—

"It has been so long since I have heard from you. How I would appreciate a letter to-day from my dear wife, telling me about our family affairs, that she was well, that our dear little children were well, giving me some of the sayings and doings of my little Alice, to have some news from Evansville and the families there. If it had not been that I had so very much to do and such great responsibilities resting upon me that kept me actively employed, I should have been lonely, indeed. When I go a-soldiering again I want it along a river or railroad so I can get some communication with the outer world and my wife.

"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.

"But my visits to Knoxville are only pleasant episodes in my military life. Cavalry must be active. I am off again. The brigade left to-night for Loudon, starting at dark in a pitiless rain, and it has been raining ever since. General Burnside had me wait over here to-night that he might confer with General Shackelford and me as to my movements, and he will give me a special train in the morning for myself and staff. He has invited me to come in the morning and take breakfast with him, when the matter will be definitely settled and I will be off. Bragg's cavalry has crossed over to the north side of Tennessee River, threatening Rosecrans's rear and communications, and we must do something to checkmate them if possible. I have a good brigade and the general is disposed to give me work to do. General Shackelford commands our division now, and is very kind and partial to me."

My next letter was written from Knoxville October 4:—

"I wrote you three nights ago. Then my brigade had been ordered to Loudon, and I was only remaining behind to get the last and special instructions of the general before going myself, expecting to be off in the morning, but I am still here and my brigade at Loudon. Every few hours I have been expecting definite orders, and something transpires to prevent it. During the last few days I have been getting a pretty good insight into the inner workings of our military affairs. I have been in General Burnside's private room daily and frequently, in conference with him and other generals, and know something about the interference of Washington City.

"The plans were all laid, my guides were selected, the rations were all issued, my brigade was ready and waiting, and in a short time I was to be off on a grand raid into Georgia in rear of Bragg's army, tear up the railroad system of the State, and alarm the rebels generally, when orders were received from General Halleck that raids into Georgia are not now contemplated, and all that is stopped. Probably you will thank General Halleck for that. It may have made me a general. It may have run me into Libby Prison. But it was a great disappointment to me and I think to the general.

"I have seen more of General Burnside than any of our generals, and I regard him as one of the best of men, a pure patriot, a just man, and, I hope, a Christian. Let me give you an instance. Yesterday evening everything was ready for a general movement of his whole army. I telegraphed my brigade at Loudon to be ready to move at two o'clock this morning; the forces at Cumberland Gap were notified to be in readiness; it appeared a matter of importance that we should be off. I went up to his room last night to get my final instructions. The general said he believed we would wait a day, as he forgot about to-morrow being Sunday. He said he always felt a disinclination to commence a movement on Sunday, and he would not do it, unless he should learn during the night that it was very urgent. So to-day we have a quiet Sabbath, the only one since we left Kentucky. It is very pleasant to me and doubtless is to the whole army."

It turned out that Bragg's cavalry was not a severe menace to Rosecrans and my brigade was recalled from Loudon and we moved up into Virginia as a part of the general movement just indicated. In a fight near Bristol the Sixty-fifth Regiment lost four killed and thirteen wounded, and had another fight at Jonesboro, from which place the letter of October 18 is written:—

"We have just returned from a fatiguing march into Virginia. We have succeeded in driving the enemy away from Zollicoffer, having another fight at Blountsville, and destroying the Virginia Railroad for ten miles, but I have no time now to write about it. I have stood the last two weeks' campaign remarkably well and continue in the best of health. I enjoy the cavalry service very much, only lately we have had a little too much of a good thing. During the past five weeks we have been continuously on the march, with a number of sharp fights. But we have now a prospect of a few days' rest. If I get it I will improve it to write you a good long letter, but the enemy may interfere with my plans any day. This is likely to be our outpost station until Rosecrans and Bragg settle affairs below.

"How often and how much I desire to be at home with the dear ones and families of relations and friends. As we rode along through the mud and rain to-day I thought of home and what a pleasure it would be for me to be with you all at home. But I must content myself, believing I am in the line of duty and pray that a kind Providence may bring me home at an early day. I have always believed that God is doing his will and accomplishing his purposes of right and freedom in this war, and if I can be one of the instruments in his hands of accomplishing a portion of this work we should be content. Kisses in abundance to my darling little children. Does my little Alice talk much about her papa? Tell her he thinks all the time about her."

Extract from letter of October 25:—

"I wrote you a few days ago, just as I was starting on a reconnoissance toward Bristol. We found no enemy nor heard of any this side of Abingdon, Virginia, in any force. We had a very disagreeable march, raining most of the time, very hard on both men and horses. Our campaigning has been very hard and tiresome, though I have stood it myself very well, in fact better than if we had less active duty; but it has tried the mettle of our brigade. We have run our horses nearly down, a large number of the men are dismounted, and more than half of the rest have horses that will not stand a march of any length. The Sixty-fifth came out with eight hundred and fifty men; there are now in camp about six hundred. The marching, rain storms, short rations, and especially the whistling of bullets and ball have driven a number of our officers out of the service.

"But I fear the worst of our campaigning is yet to come. It is becoming a serious question how we are to sustain our army in East Tennessee this winter. There is enough bread and meat, but the men have no winter clothing, and unless it comes soon it cannot get over the mountains. Winter will soon be upon us, with muddy roads and swollen rivers. We have just started a train of wagons from our division over to Kentucky for clothing and supplies, but I do not expect to see it short of six weeks, if ever. We had been hoping to get railroad communication open by way of Chattanooga, but the disaster to Rosecrans has at least postponed that. Just now I am anxious to get over into North Carolina with my brigade, but military movements are very uncertain and most likely I shall be disappointed."

On the 29th of October I wrote again:—

"General Shackelford had a report of the advance on us of an army of eighteen thousand and out of due precaution ordered us to fall back eighteen miles, but this morning matters look as if we ran too soon from an invisible enemy. It will not surprise me if we are ordered back to our old camp at Jonesboro. It will suit me very well if we are, for I may then have a chance to make my contemplated raid over the mountains into North Carolina. I am anxious to get over there to see the people. The trip would take us through the Blue Ridge."

I quote from a letter of November 1:—

"I wrote in my last how we got down here, how we ran from Sancho Panza's windmills. We are still here. We had orders to march and were all ready an hour before daylight yesterday morning, when the orders came countermanding the marching. We were to go back to Jonesboro. We are having a delightful day and a very quiet and most welcome Sabbath. I have been reading 'The Words and Mind of Jesus,' and I got hold of an 'Independent,' which was quite a treat, as I don't often see any religious paper here. I went over to the house of Mr. Henderson (the leading citizen of this place) and found he had quite a good religious library; plenty of Presbyterian works. I told him he appeared to be sound religiously, if not politically; he is considerable of a rebel.

"We have been enjoying our rest of late very much, and if we were not stirred out every little while with reports of large rebel forces right upon us, we could get more real enjoyment out of it. This evening a citizen (a reliable one, of course) reports the enemy advancing in force. To-morrow an equally reliable and intelligent one will know that there are none this side of the Holston River. If Willie were out here he would see a great deal more about soldiering than he used to see at Henderson."

In my letter of November 8 I give an account of a bold dash of the rebels to Rogersville, which routed a Federal force stationed there, and captured four hundred and four guns:—

"General Wilcox, who was in command in upper Tennessee, when he got the report of the fight from the scared fugitives, became alarmed for fear the enemy would get in our rear, and he caused a general retreat of the whole army. Our cavalry and all marched all Friday night and till late in the morning of Saturday, and abandoned the whole country for eighteen miles below Greenville, thus giving up all we had gained. And all without reason, for as it turned out while we were marching all night one way the rebels were retreating with their booty and prisoners the other! Where we will go next I do not know, but I hope right back and occupy the country clear up to the Virginia line. We can do it without difficulty.

"The whole cavalry force of Burnside's army has been formed into a cavalry corps and placed in command of General Shackelford. The corps is composed of two divisions. Our brigade is in the Second Division. It would be commanded by Colonel Carter, if present, but he may be absent for some weeks, and I have been assigned to the command of this division. It will be a very nice command and quite complimentary to me."

I may state that I remained in command of this division of cavalry during the remainder of my service in Tennessee. I extract from my letter of November 13:—

"Major Brown and nine men of the Sixty-fifth are about leaving for a recruiting service in Indiana, and I send this letter by him. I told Major Brown that I did not know that I could say I wished (as he) that I too was going home, but I could say with emphasis that I wished the war was over and that I was going home to return no more. This going home to stay a week or two and then come back, tear away from home and all its dear attachments, is worse than the first departure. I can't say that when the campaign is pretty well over I may not apply for a leave of absence; but when I think of the parting from home again and the long muddy winter ride across the mountains, I begin to balance the matter. When I come home I want it to be my last 'leave.' When shall that be? I am too great a lover of my little wife, my darling children, and my happy home to make a good soldier, at least a professional soldier. How sweetly you wrote in your last letter of our little Alice praying her evening prayer for her absent papa. I believe He who noticeth the fall of a sparrow will hear and answer the prayer of innocence and childhood, and bring me home in safety that I may be the guardian of our dear family."

My letter of November 14 reports an unfavorable change in the situation in East Tennessee. General Bragg commanding the rebel forces in front of Chattanooga, feeling that he had Rosecrans's army safely besieged, dispatched Longstreet, one of the ablest of the Confederate generals, with his army corps to capture or drive out Burnside. It is to that situation my letter refers:—

"The intelligence this afternoon from Knoxville was rather ominous of evil to us. General Wilcox telegraphs me that the enemy have forced the right bank of the river below Loudon, that General Burnside had gone down to-day, and that if the enemy were too strong for our forces there we would have to look out for a retreat to the gaps in the Cumberland Mountains. Our line of march would be to Cumberland Gap, and I am notified that I with my division will have the important work of guarding the approaches to this route, down the valleys of the Holston, Clinch, and Powell Rivers, and also keeping open the communication with General Burnside on our right to Knoxville. We will know more definitely to-night or to-morrow.

"I hope and pray that we may not be driven to that dire necessity. In proportion as our joy was great in the occupation of this country would our regrets be deep at being compelled to abandon it. But I have hope that to-morrow will bring the welcome intelligence that our army below has driven the enemy back over the river. It would be with a sad and heavy heart that I turned my back upon the loyal people of East Tennessee. I have confidence that God does not will it so."

When my next letter November 22 was written from Tazewell, on the route to Cumberland Gap, Burnside had been besieged for a week by Longstreet:—

"We are lying quiet here, just out of hearing of the fighting that is raging at Knoxville. Our messengers from Knoxville report Burnside holding out heroically. I have little time to write and less inclination, even to my dear wife. I am heart-sick and gloomy, though not discouraged. General Burnside, the best man of the generals I know, and a gallant army have been beleaguered at Knoxville for a week, and are still fighting manfully. We are almost powerless to do him any good, but I have asked General Wilcox to let me take my cavalry and support me at the fords of Clinch River with his infantry, and I would make at least one vigorous effort to break the rebel lines and raise the siege. He is at the Gap. General Burnside ordered him to look out for his line of retreat and at all events to hold Cumberland Gap. This he is in a position to do."

I wrote the 26th from Cumberland Gap, where I had come to try to get horses:—

"We have no news from General Burnside direct since the 23d, when he said he could hold out ten days, that his position was a strong one, and we are hopeful of his success for Grant at Chattanooga will push vigorously against Bragg. I will be off in the morning to harass the enemy. I shall make my headquarters at Tazewell, and send my old brigade over Clinch River toward Knoxville to stir up the enemy a little, and try to divert them from Burnside. Our cavalry is in such wretched condition it is almost impossible to do anything, the horses worn out, without shoes, and with very little forage. I regret it exceedingly when so much is expected of us and needed. General Wilcox is ordered to keep his infantry near the Gap and send my cavalry out toward the enemy to gather information and annoy them."

I wrote again on the 29th when we had just heard of Grant's victory at Chattanooga, but were without information of the gallant defense of Fort Stevens and the bloody repulse of the rebels at Knoxville:—

"We have no news except the glorious victory of Grant's army, and we are hoping to see its effect in the deliverance of Burnside. The enemy seek to starve him into a surrender. I sent out yesterday my old brigade to go down toward Knoxville and feel out the enemy. I am getting a little anxious about them as there was cannonading heard below and I have had nothing from them since they left. It would be a serious affair for me to have my old brigade captured.

"We are having rather a hard time to live, subsisting entirely upon the country. Our cavalry get along better than the infantry; the latter have been for days without flour or meal. Twenty-five cents have been refused for a cup full of corn. Parched corn is a luxury. But we are hoping for better times in a few days. The men bear it manfully."

In my letter of December 4, in acknowledging receipt of a late letter from my wife, I reply:—

"I wish very much I could be at home to enjoy with you the entertainments you write about, but I shall have to forego all these pleasures, and live on corn-bread and pork, cold nights, muddy roads, and occasional skirmishing. I don't know when I can promise you to come home, but not while the enemy is before us, as now. I think a few days hence will see them driven away. I mentioned in my last letter sending the Second Brigade down to the vicinity of Knoxville. They were attacked by the whole of Longstreet's cavalry and pressed back. They gave the enemy a severe fight, killing and wounding a considerable number of them. Our losses were a few taken prisoners, four killed and thirty wounded. Our men did bravely. My whole division will try it again to-morrow. We expect Sherman, who was sent up by Grant after his victory to relieve Burnside, will reach Knoxville to-morrow, when if Longstreet has not retreated there must be a severe battle. We want to be near at hand with our cavalry. I would have been there two or three days ago with my whole division, but have been constantly held back by General Wilcox."

Sometime before the siege of Knoxville General Burnside had asked to be relieved of the command of the department, and General John G. Foster (of New Hampshire) of the Eastern army had been appointed to succeed him. He arrived at my headquarters while the siege was in progress. In this letter writing about a leave to come home, I refer to General Foster:—

"If matters quiet down here there is a probability that I may come this winter, but nothing certain; a man in the army can't go when he pleases. If General Burnside had remained, I think I would have had no difficulty, but it is uncertain as to General Foster, how strict he will be. I have been with him here for three or four days, being frequently consulted by him as to movements, the country, etc., and have been quite intimate at his headquarters. He is quite a Yankee and not so agreeable in his manners as Burnside, but withal he may make a good commander. But there is no man like Burnside for this department with his soldiers. I especially will regret his leaving."

The day after I wrote my last letter, Longstreet retreated from Knoxville (December 5) up the valley toward the Virginia line, and the next day (the 6th) General Sherman reached Knoxville. On December 10 I wrote:—

"Bean Station, where we are now camped, you will find on most maps of Tennessee. It is ten miles from Morristown on the road to Cumberland Gap, just at the foot of the Clinch mountains, forty-two miles from Knoxville. We have followed the enemy this far up from Knoxville. From Tazewell I joined the Second Brigade near Knoxville. Colonel Graham of that brigade reported that an encampment of the enemy was over the mountain about five miles, so I sent him over, had a skirmish, captured a captain, several prisoners, and seventy-five horses, and drove them clear over Clinch Mountain. Since then we have followed the enemy in their retreat, skirmishing with their rear guard all the way. I doubt whether we shall push the enemy much farther, as it will be difficult to get supplies."

The siege of Knoxville was one of the most gallant events on the Federal side during the Civil War. Burnside with an inferior force successfully sustained a siege of twenty days, resisting the assaults of the enemy with comparatively small losses, endured short rations, and by the heroism of his command saved East Tennessee to the Union. The result gave great joy to all loyal men, and President Lincoln issued a proclamation, calling on the people "to render special homage to Almighty God for this great advancement of the National cause," and Congress thanked Burnside and his army. General Grant in his "Memoirs" says: "The safety of Burnside's army and the loyal people of East Tennessee had been the subject of much anxiety to the President, and he was telegraphing me daily, almost hourly, to 'remember Burnside,' 'do something for Burnside,' and other appeals of like tenor." In my letter of December 10, I say: "Burnside goes out of this Department with the admiration of the whole army. His defense of Knoxville was glorious, and his goodness of heart and purity of character endear him to all who know him." Years after, while Minister to Mexico, I visited Washington at the time when Burnside was a Senator from his State, and received from him much social attention in recognition of our army friendship.

From Bean Station I wrote again on December 13:—

"We are still at this place, from which I last wrote you, being comparatively quiet. We daily send out reconnoissances toward Rogersville and Morristown. They generally meet the enemy nine and twelve miles out, have a pretty sharp skirmish, lose a few men killed and wounded, and then return to camp. The enemy do not appear to be retreating, or rather appear to have stopped retreating. My health continues very good, and I am in good spirits, only I get quite homesick at times. I will get home as soon as I can, but the prospect for doing so is not very flattering."

In a hurried visit to Knoxville I wrote on the 23d of December:—

"As I got to thinking about home, I said to General Foster that when my services could be dispensed with, I would like to take a leave of absence. He says he cannot think of letting me go for ten days or two weeks, but hopes at the expiration of that time that the exigencies of the service will permit him to let me go home. That means that I may probably go home if the enemy will let me. Don't fix your heart on my coming soon. It will be as soon as I can consistently."

This is my Christmas letter:—

"I can do nothing better to-night than to write you a letter by way of a Christmas present. We have to-day unexpectedly had a quiet, if not a Merry Christmas, though it did not appear last night as though it would be so. About 3 P.M. yesterday I received orders (in camp near Blain's Cross-Roads) to move over at once and join General Sturgis at New Market, where the main body of the cavalry are. We got off about sunset, but did not arrive here till midnight, having to ford the Holston and travel over a very bad road. How longingly I thought of what you and the dear ones at home might be doing at that hour as I marched along in the clear, stinging cold night.

"After the cold and cheerless ride we fortunately got into comfortable quarters, and have been quiet to-day, enjoying the rest and comfort. We improvised a pretty good Christmas dinner. Among the delicacies we don't get often, we had eggs and butter. We are not living in excellent Epicurean style just now, as the country is pretty well eaten out.

"I cannot see any prospect of our getting into winter quarters, such as the papers report the Army of the Potomac and of the Cumberland are enjoying. The climate of East Tennessee is very similar to that of Indiana, and the men are very scantily supplied with 'dog' or shelter tents and many have not even these to cover them. My commands since we came into East Tennessee have been on one continuous campaign without cessation. Up the country, over the mountains, across the rivers, down the valley, then up again, driving the enemy before us, then falling back, to drive the enemy up the valley again—thus we have been for four months, until we have run down our horses and about half of our men. But we are enduring it very well, still after the rebels with as much zest as ever. There is a vast deal of excitement in the cavalry service."

My last letter to my wife from East Tennessee was written on the last day of 1863, which I began with a prayer:—

"Let us not forget to thank our dear Heavenly Father for all His mercies of the past year. Oh, how good He has been to us, even with all our troubles! How little we have done in our lives to repay that goodness! May He make us more worthy of His mercies and blessing in the New Year, and may He preserve our lives that we may together meet and praise Him. To His watchful care I commit my dear wife and little ones.

"I last wrote you from New Market. I was enjoying a quiet rainy Sunday there, reading some good book I found at the house where I was quartered, when about noon I received orders for my division to move forward and attack the enemy and drive him back from Mossy Creek. It was an unwelcome order that rainy Sabbath, but we executed it, and after considerable skirmishing took up a new line two miles beyond Mossy Creek. Yesterday Colonel Wolford's division and mine were ordered out at three o'clock in the morning to Dandridge, where it was reported a division of rebel cavalry was encamped. We went, but found the enemy had left the night before, and we returned at 4 P.M. just in time to miss a nice little fight at Mossy Creek. The enemy attacked our outposts at 11 A.M. and drove our troops back two miles, but ours in turn drove them back again beyond our lines. It is not often that my men have the fortune, or misfortune, to miss the fighting, as we did yesterday.

"We have here our entire force of cavalry, and one brigade of infantry. The rest of the army is at Strawberry Plains and Blain's Cross-Roads. Longstreet is reported at Morristown with the main body of his army. I suppose General Foster intends to drive him away from there, if possible, how soon I don't care because I want to come home as soon as the fighting here is over, and take a little rest with my dear wife and darling little girls."

I may venture, before closing my East Tennessee correspondence, to give in part the last of these letters, as a specimen of letters to a soldier's child, written on January 1, 1864:—

"Why should I not write a letter this New Year's Day to my dear little Alice? I am so far away I can't give you any nice present; all I can do is to try to write you a good letter....

"What have you and Lillie and the other little children been doing to-day? And did you have a Christmas tree and a happy time then? Papa has not had much of a New Year's Day. It has been so cold, oh so very cold to-day. Was it cold at home? I could tell you a story about the cold. Would you like papa to tell you a little story in his letter? Do you still like to hear stories? Well, I can tell you part of it, and mamma can tell it over to you and fill it up.

"Papa, you know, is away off, out in the mountains, so far away from home, in the army, and you know there are so many poor soldiers in the army. Yesterday, the last day of the old year, was such a gloomy day, it was so muddy and wet and rainy. And then last night it blew so hard and rained so much; it was like a hurricane (get mamma to tell you what that is). And the poor soldiers have no houses to live in, like little Alice, with nice warm beds, and they don't have large tents like you saw out in the woods near home last summer when Uncle Jimmy and the rest of the boys and men were out soldiering. They have to live in the fields and woods, and their tents are like grandma's tablecloth, only smaller, and they stretch that up over a pole and it is open at both ends, and at night two or three or four of them get down on their hands and knees and crawl into it and pull their blankets over them when they go to bed. The soldiers call them 'dog-tents.' Ask Lillie if she thinks it would be good enough for her 'Trip.' Well, last night, after many of the soldiers had been marching in the rain, and when most of them were wet and their blankets wet, they built large fires, but they wouldn't burn well because it was too wet, and they crawled into the 'dog-tents,' and were trying to get to sleep when the naughty wind commenced to blow and it began again to rain, and the rain would blow on their heads and they would draw them further into their tents, and then it would rain on their feet, and pretty soon there came up such a hurricane that it blew all their tents clear off of them, and there they were lying on the muddy ground, and the cold rain pouring down on them. And they all had to get up out of bed. It had rained so hard that it put all their fires nearly out so they couldn't get warm. Poor soldiers, don't you pity them?

"Some of the soldiers were out, away off in the dark woods on that terrible night on picket (get Willie or Uncle Aleck to tell you what that is). And they had to sit all night on their poor horses away out by themselves with their guns in their hands and swords by their sides, watching to keep the wicked rebels from slipping into camp in the dark night and killing your poor papa and the rest of the soldiers. After a while the rain stopped, but the wind kept blowing and whistling through the trees and over the mountains and making such a terrible noise. You can hear it whistle around the corner of grandmamma's house, but it moans and whistles so much louder out here over the mountains, it might frighten little girls if they did not know what it was. Soon the wind began to change around toward the north where Jack Frost lives and from where the white snow comes, and the rain began to freeze, and the ground got hard, and it was so cold, oh bitter cold. The poor soldiers could sleep no more that night, their blankets were all frozen stiff as an icicle, and they had to build great big fires to keep their coats and pants from freezing on them. It was all they could do to keep from freezing; they could not keep warm.

"Some of the men, when we went out to drive away the rebels from the other side of the mountain, were hungry and they stopped behind us at a farmhouse to get something to eat, and the wicked rebels caught them and took their overcoats away from them, and took their warm boots off their feet; and some of the poor fellows got away from them and walked all the way from the rebel camp over the frozen ground barefooted. To-day the soldiers have done nothing but build big fires and stand close up to them and try to keep warm.

"These poor soldiers and your papa have come away from our homes and left good mammas and dear little daughters to keep the wicked bad rebels from making this country a poor, unhappy one, and that when little Alice and the dear children of the other soldiers grow up they will have a good and a happy country, and won't have to know about wars and such terrible things. You must remember about the poor soldiers, and pray God that He will be very kind to them and make the time soon come when they and your papa can all of them go home to their dear little daughters and good mammas.

"Kiss mamma and little Sister Edith for me, and tell your little cousins Gwyn and Foster and Johnny that your papa hopes to come home soon and that he will then come around with you and see them all."

As intimated in the last letter to my wife, General Foster did make a forward movement with his entire force, and pushed the enemy toward the Virginia line, but thereafter there was a lull in army operations for the rest of the winter on both sides. The time had come for which I had so long looked when I could without injury to the service ask for a leave of absence, which General Foster, commanding the Department, cheerfully granted, and before the last of January, 1864, I was on my way home, going by way of Chattanooga and Nashville, as the railroad communication was then well established.

I have noted the death of my father in April, 1863. He had been actively engaged in extensive mercantile affairs, and while not wealthy (as the world estimates wealth now), was possessed of considerable property, both real and personal. By his will he made me the executor of his estate and guardian of the two minor children. In August, 1863, after I was well on the march to East Tennessee, I received a letter from my brother stating that the court at Evansville had required my presence in the proceedings for the settlement of my father's estate, but I obtained a stay until I should be able to get released from my army duties, with the assurance on my part that I would make as little delay as possible.

When I reached home I found the affairs of my father's estate in such condition that I could not conclude my duties as executor in the time fixed for my "leave" from my command. There was the widow, two minor and four adult heirs claiming attention to my duties as executor. Under the circumstances I felt it proper to tender my resignation from the army, especially as I had already determined to do so at the expiration of my three years' term of service, which would be within four months.

There was no reason for me to tender my resignation except the undischarged duty of executor and my earnest desire to be with my family. During my entire army service I had enjoyed good health and was pleased with the active life. I had been reasonably successful in military affairs, and had held large and important commands to the satisfaction of my superior officers, and there was every prospect of my early promotion in rank. But I put aside preferment and possible military distinction for the more immediate call of family duty. The outlook for the suppression of the rebellion was at that date most favorable. Grant had been made commander-in-chief, and was organizing his army for the final march on Richmond; Sherman was preparing for his advance on Atlanta and his march to the sea; and at no time since the opening of hostilities had the cause of the Union looked so auspicious.

General Sturgis, in command of the cavalry corps to which I belonged, in forwarding my resignation to the Department general made the following endorsement:—

"In approving this resignation, I cannot refrain from expressing my deep regret in parting with so intelligent, energetic, and brave an officer. I have for some time been aware of the business and family interests which I feared would sooner or later deprive the army of the services of Colonel Foster, yet after so long and faithful service he should be, I think, relieved under the circumstances. His loss, however, will be severely felt in this corps and his place hard to fill."

When my resignation became known to the Sixty-fifth Regiment the officers held a meeting in which a series of resolutions were adopted declaring "that Colonel Foster, since his connection with the regiment has been unceasing in his labors in, and untiring in his devotion to, the cause in which we are engaged, and has spared no means to render his regiment efficient; that he has commanded the regiment with distinguished honor to himself and to the regiment; that in his resignation the regiment and the service have lost an efficient and valuable officer; and that he bears with him to his home our highest esteem and our best wishes as a citizen."

An editorial of considerable length appeared in the "Evansville Journal," from which the following is an extract:—

We regret exceedingly to learn that Colonel John W. Foster has felt it to be his duty to resign his commission as colonel of the Sixty-fifth Indiana Regiment, and that his resignation has been accepted. We have known for some time that circumstances—growing out of his father's death, occasioned an almost absolute necessity for his personal attention to the settlement of a vast amount of unfinished business left by the Judge—were conspiring to force Colonel Foster out of the service, but we were in hope that matters might be so arranged as to enable him to remain in the field. It seems, however, that this could not be done, and our Government loses the services of one of its most gallant, energetic, and experienced officers. Colonel Foster entered the service of his country in the summer of 1861, as major of the Twenty-fifth Regiment Indiana Volunteers. He laid aside the profession of the law, and took upon himself the profession of arms, from a conscientious belief that his first service was due to his Government. Without experience, or even a theoretical knowledge of military life when he entered the service, so close was his application to study, that but a short time elapsed before he was a thorough master of all the duties incumbent upon his position as Major of the regiment, or for that matter with any position connected with the regiment. Colonel Foster was a rigid disciplinarian, yet he exacted nothing from his men that was not essential to the efficiency of his regiment, or that he was unwilling to perform himself.

After a detailed review of my military service, it adds:—

Colonel Foster has proven his patriotism by his actions and in retiring to private life he will carry with him the assurance that he has merited the good wishes of his countrymen and secured the great satisfaction of an approving conscience.

From an editorial in the "Louisville Journal" the following is extracted:—

The resignation of Colonel John W. Foster of the Sixty-fifth Indiana Regiment has been accepted. His retirement from the army is to be regretted, as he was one of the most experienced, efficient and gallant officers in the service.

After a sketch of my military career, it says:—

Colonel Foster accompanied the expedition of General Burnside in the movement on East Tennessee, at times commanding brigades and even divisions. Just before tendering his resignation he was recommended for a brigadier-general's commission by Generals Burnside and Grant. Important business relating to his father's estate demanded immediate attention, and forced his resignation. The army and the country alike regret his retirement to private life.