War Stories for my Grandchildren. Foster John Watson
to Kentucky: "You must not flatter yourself that, if I get nearer home, I will have a much better opportunity of paying a visit to the dear ones there."
Then I entered upon a topic which seemed to be a familiar one in my letters, about home: —
"The commanding officers at St. Louis will be very particular about absence, and when we get into the active field again it will be worse. And it must be so, if the army is to be kept in any state of efficiency. How much I would love to come home. No one ever more highly prized the blessings and comforts of a happy home than I, – a dear, loving, and noble wife, a sweet, darling little daughter, and so many kind kindred and friends, – but it must be otherwise. I am called to the place of duty, away from all these. I would be a craven, a disloyal citizen, if I did not do what I am doing in this time of peril to our country. And I rejoice that I have a wife, with a heart so noble, so patriotic and so brave, as to share this feeling with me, and who submits to her situation without a murmur. This pleasant home which you and I both long to enjoy together would be worthless and ruined, if our once prosperous Government falls to pieces. It is far better that we endure this separation and that our country suffer this terrible war for a time now, than that we permit the whole nation to fall to pieces, and for years and years after to see nothing but civil war and continued bloodshed between little factious States. We hope and pray that God will speedily restore the country to its wonted peace, so that we may all return to our families and friends."
A little later, in acknowledging receipt of one of my wife's letters, I say: "I am glad you are reading Washington's letters. You will find he was a good husband and loved his home, but he went to war for seven years!"
While waiting in suspense at Syracuse, I tell of another court-martial: —
"I was all day yesterday engaged in a court-martial and until late last night. A lieutenant in the Eighteenth Indiana was arraigned by his captain for attacking and slandering him in a newspaper in Indiana, and the lieutenant came to get me to defend him. I tried to beg out of it, but he insisted so strongly that I had to undertake it. The court was presided over by the general commanding, and was composed of the colonels and other field officers of the division, and I was somewhat abashed in appearing before it, the practice of the court being altogether different from our civil law courts, and I being unacquainted with it; but I thought I might as well learn now as at any other time. I think I got through with it pretty well. If I keep the lieutenant from being cashiered it will be fortunate for him."
The coming on of winter made the generals, as well as the men, think of winter quarters. In a letter dated November 24, referring to another of the reports about a threatened attack on us by Price and the probability of marching again, I write: —
"In the meantime we are shivering around our camp-fires in this winter weather, and stuffing our tents full of straw, blankets, and buffalo robes to keep warm. Last night I managed to sleep comfortably. I made my bed right down on the ground. It is warmer than to have my cot up on its legs. These Missouri prairie winds are such winds as Hoosiers don't know anything about.
"You ought to see some of the expedients we resort to for comfortable camp-fires. At headquarters of the regiment we have a big roaring log fire built, and have small logs propped up on the forks of saplings for seats or benches, and then we barricade ourselves from the wind a little by tents and stretching wagon covers around the saplings… But at the best this winter campaigning is not comfortable for officers or men."
Notwithstanding the cold weather, I note in my letter of December 3, that we are keeping up the drills: —
"Yesterday and to-day we have been kept quite busy, General Pope having issued a strict order in reference to regimental and brigade drills. We are out both morning and afternoon with the regiment, notwithstanding that the ground has been covered with snow and it is very cold. It comes a little hard on us, cold fingers and cold feet, but it is all the better for both officers and men. As for myself I am in much the best health when I am kept busy, and on the march or move. This afternoon we had a review of the whole brigade, preparatory to an anticipated grand review by General Halleck, Department Commander, in a few days."
It finally seemed settled that the army was to remain in this part of Missouri, and we were to go into winter quarters. So our brigade marched down to Lamine River December 7, preparatory to a permanent encampment. I report: —
"We will have a large city of log huts, probably 15,000 or 20,000 troops. We are commencing operations to-day by clearing off our camp, preparatory to building our log huts. I shall be in command of the working forces of our regiment and shall soon know how to build a log house in the most approved style. So you see I am having a varied experience in my army life."
I seemed to be quite possessed with the project of building our huts and getting into winter quarters, as I was planning to extend hospitality to dear friends. I write my wife: —
"How would you and little Alice like to come out and live with me in a log hut for a while this winter? If the little darling will learn to say 'papa' right sweet and right plain, maybe I will have her come out and see and talk with her 'papa.' That will depend on how long we will stay here, and how well I shall be fixed up. But you must not be certain of it, for a soldier's life is a very uncertain one."
And sure enough all our plans and anticipations came to an end, as a letter from Sedalia, December 21, relates: —
"After more than a week's silence I have only time to drop you a note. The newspapers will doubtless tell you of our last expedition. We went out in a hurry and came back in a hurry. We just missed by three hours' march a rebel supply train with a guard of three thousand: but we succeeded in capturing an entire regiment, with a full complement of officers, and Colonel Magoffin, a notorious secessionist, and a lot of other prisoners, making altogether about one thousand.
"There was no fight of any consequence. The cavalry surrounded them and they surrendered after a short skirmish. The Twenty-fifth was in the advance of the infantry and would have been in the fight, if needed. The only one of our regiment killed was Sergeant Ray, of Company G, who was acting as a mounted scout. Our regiment was assigned as a guard to the prisoners, and will have the post of honor in conducting them to St. Louis. We will leave by train in the morning. I am very tired with guard duty and marching for two days and nights, and must be up early in the morning."
This march proved the last of our campaigning in Missouri. Not a glorious record, but a lot of experience and useful training as soldiers. The regiment was assigned to quarters at Benton Barracks. I write: —
"It is uncertain how long we shall stay here or what they will do with us. We may be all winter or possibly only two or three weeks. They have given the field officers of our regiment a little house just outside the Barracks, four rooms, a kitchen, cellar, and attic for the servants, and a stable. If we can arrange things to suit us and it is agreeable to the other officers, I expect Colonel Veatch and I will be sending for our wives. What think you of it?"
A few days later I received her reply on which I made the following comments: —
"You never wrote a more noble letter. I have read it over and over again. You could have written in a way which might have been more likely to have brought you over to visit me, but you could not have in a way more surely to make me love and admire you. I know how much you love to be with me and how much I would enjoy your presence. I have been thinking, ever since we came back to St. Louis [seven hours by rail from Evansville], about the propriety of having you come over to spend a few days or weeks with me, and had hardly decided what to do about it.
"While in many respects it would be pleasant, in others it would not be. If you took up quarters with me, it would be in a very comfortable room for a soldier, but not very comfortable or attractive for a lady – no furniture except stools, plank tables, and bunks with straw to sleep on, and soldiers' blankets and buffalo robes for covering. And then it would be in a house filled with officers, – gentlemen, it is true, but not at all times pleasant companions for a lady. If you went with me to a hotel, I would have to neglect my duties, which neither you nor I would desire me to do. And even in my own quarters I could not pay that attention to you which I would desire without some, at least apparent, neglect of duty. There are quite a number of officers' wives here, and I know that they do not in any degree