Words pull us through to the future

“Words are events, they do things, change things. They transform both speaker and hearer; they feed energy back and forth and amplify it. They feed understanding or emotion back and forth and amplify it.“ -Ursula K. Le Guin

In the wake of all the deaths in the past year at the hands of ICE (and not just the headline grabbing ones), I’ve been thinking a lot about what moments like the one we’re living through demand of us. Then I came across this Ursula K. Le Guin quote about the power words have to change and amplify energy back and forth.

As ordinary people across the country rise up against fascism, as they put their lives on the line facing off with state-sanctioned murderers, my thoughts sometimes drift to my many-greats grandfather Albert Foster, my mother’s father’s father’s father’s father, an Iowan abolitionist who enlisted with the 5th Wisconsin Regiment of the Army of the Potomac during the Civil War. He went on to fight on the front lines in some of the biggest battles.

Albert’s legacy looms very large over my mom’s side of the family, in part because we have copies of some of the letters he sent home during the war, and because his values and bravery were so strong he created a legacy everyone else could only hope to live up to. His words feel so immediate, it’s as if he’s still communicating with us one hundred sixty years later.

He was also just an incredibly vivid writer. A key excerpt from one of the letters I’ve transcribed below:

But what is Home and Friends, without a Country and a Government? Aye! even Life itself! This war is no childs play with the Rebbels. It is a gigantic effort to overthrow civil or self government, and establish a Slave-holding Despotism.

I am more than ever confirmed in my life-long abhorance of Slavery, and am fully convinced that to destroy it root and branch, would end the Rebellion and restore Peace.

Would that the Administration and all in authority could see and feel this fact as clearly as I do.

But the Great work is progressing though slowly, yet it goes on. I believe the Almighty will not suffer the war to cease until His ends are accomplished.

Maybe, like me, you too need to feel some bravery and hope in the face of tyranny or maybe you just want to commune with the power words from the past possess to stir us in the present. Here are some of my favorite passages from Grandpa Albert’s letters. I’m faithfully rendering his spelling and punctuation.

Reveling in respites from the fight

In the first letter in our collection, to his daughter Cecelia on January 4, 1863, he briefly touches on the Battle of Fredericksburg, which he survived…

I have just been writing to Jenny about the great Battle of Fredericksburgh and left off where we got back over the river. Now I will write you where I have been and what I have been doing since. We got over the Pontoon Bridges about 10 o’clock in the night and came back till we got about 2 miles from the River in the woods and camped. The Rebs did not know that we had moved until the next day. But when they found we had left and about where we were they shot great cast iron balls at us as big as watermelons. Some of them were long like a large ripe cucumber with one end cut off square and the inside is hollow at first but they fill it up with bullets and then run milled sulphur in to fill all the space between the bullets and have them fixed so that when they are shot among the folks they will burst and scattered the bullets in all directions. But we did not stay there long…

Perhaps because he was writing to his daughter, he focuses much more on the quotidian pleasures of the quieter moments of army life:

Now for the Cabin–I selected a side hill place about 8 ft. square dug out so the up hill side was about 2 ft. deep. On this side I dug out a fireplace and built a chimney of sticks and mud on the outside, like our old one. Then built the sides and ends of poles and chinked and daubed it in regular log cabin style and covered it with our tents. We have a little doorway in one side and use an old sack for a door. Opposite the fireplace is our bed, the best I have slept in since I left Washington. Small poles are laid across the building close together, about a foot from the ground so as to be wide enough for two, and Pine boughs laid on and our blankets.

Now would you not like to take a peep into our new Virginia Mansion?

We are not troubled with much furniture. We sit on the side of our bunk, eat off a pan or a piece of a cracker box and sometimes use a clean chip for a plate. The half of an old canteen which I picked up on the Battlefield, serves for a frying pan for both of us, and one tin cup apiece serves for coffee pot, tin cups etc. Our chimney draws well. We get enough to eat, have good health and enjoy ourselves pretty well.

Dealing with scoundrels back home

With unreliable means of communication, it was not easy to deal with the home front, particularly unsavory characters who claimed money was due:

I have just received a letter Post Marked Nov. 24, containing 2 letters, one of Alonzo’s and one of yours nearly two months old.

I was surprised at George Kendrick having tried to ring in an account against me. He knows very well that I owe him nothing, and he is a mean, dishonest, scoundral for presenting to you such an account in my absence. He agreed to cut enough to pay the debt and if he cut more he was to pay $1.50 per ton. He knows very well that he did cut more and if he let it lay and rot it is not my fault.

Let the matter rest, I may live to see him again, I have not forgotten my obligations to those I justly owe.

Facing danger with purpose

Despite enduring some of the worst battles of the war, he stayed attuned to the higher purpose he was fighting for.

But how do I like to be a soldier? Would I not rather be at Home and what do I think of the war?

I like it as well as I can, about as well as I expected. But I would like better Generalship. And a good victory now and then. It makes one feel a little uneasy at first to hear those little wicked Bullets whizzing by his ears. And the sputtering, bomb shells bursting over his head, scattering its contents and fragments all around him. But I find I soon get used to it. And strange as it may seem, even to myself, I get so riveted to the spot that I would not leave if I could. Yes, I would like to be at home if this war was ended, otherwise I should be discontented and it would be like me, if my health would permit, to enlist again.

The War will last as long as Slavery lasts. There will be no War without Slavery, and no Peace with it. God will never permit this war to end until that end is accomplished. It has taken this Government a year and a half to learn this simple fact at a cost of nearly half a million of lives and a thousand million of dollars. And still there is darkness all around without one gleam apparently, of a coming dawn.

Well here we are, in the midst of these hard fought battlefields, Bull-Run, Sharpsburgh and South Mountain in the rear, and the Bloody Field of Fredericksburgh in front–waiting for something else, which will probably come with the opening Spring. God grant whatever fate it brings to me, it may bring success and permanent Peace to our army and country.

Keeping faith despite despair

One night, Albert was clearly feeling in an expansive mood and wrote a stirring note to his wife:

I have written all of the news over and over again. But since we have had orders to be ready to march, and have been detained on account of the heavy rains, I am very uneasy and restless unless I am doing something. It is now about 9 or 10 o’clock and yet I am not sleepy. My partner is snoring in bed. The hum of the camp is nearly subsided, though in an adjoining tent is a party playing cards, and are rather noisy. And I am seated by the fire, partly to pass away the time, and partly to amuse myself with my own meditations, transcribing as they may suggest themselves, to my nearest earthly Friend. Friend few on Earth and therefore dear. But all are Friends in Heaven.

In thinking over the events of my life, I am not conscious of having committed any great or fundamental errors to the injury of my fellow men. Cut loose as it were, from the ordinary cares of life, and subject to the winds and waves of Military strife, I feel the fullest assurance that I am in the line of my duty, and whether I shall be called to sacrifice my life in battle or live to return, I am assured that all will be well. For 20 years we have shared each others cares and griefs. We may not have been as happy as we might have been, and yet few perhaps, have had less difficulty. Of our connection I have never regretted. Of your constancy I have never entertained a doubt. And it is a source of great satisfaction to me to know that in this great National Struggle, in sentiment, feeling and mutual interest as a family, we are one.

While I am in active service in the field, your service in caring for the wants of the family and the concerns of home is scarcely less important.

It is not for ourselves merely but that our children and future generations may have a Country and Government in and under which to live. Would I could feel that we were thus united on another subject, but perhaps it is not so to be.

Since I have been in the Army more human suffering than ever before, a thousand fold, Wounded, Dying and Dead! O, what sights does a Battle Field present! And yet from all appearance, what is past, is little more than the Title Page of the Book of Horrors that is yet to be written of this Rebellion.

If Scotland with a Military force of 80,000 could maintain a Civil War with England, against a force of 4,000,000 for 400 years, and the Colonies of America a war of 7 years with the same Power, who shall say that the Rebels with a force of over 1,000,000 cannot maintain a civil war with the United States, even with a force of three times their number, for years to come.

When I left home, I thought the war would be over before this time. Some say now that it will be decided before the first of June. Men at home think at least some of them, that they will not be needed. Let us not deceive ourselves. We have not taken the full measure of the force we have now to meet. The time has gone by when we could have availed ourselves of the Slave Population. We must make up our minds now to meet them too upon the field. The indignities practiced upon them by our soldiers, together with the neglect of Government to protect and provide for those who have escaped to our lines, has driven them to prefer the service of their masters. And even now their army is swarming with them. I fear the entire Military force at the North will yet have to be called into requisition.

But what is Home and Friends, without a Country and a Government? Aye! even Life itself! This war is no childs play with the Rebbels. It is a gigantic effort to overthrow civil or self government, and establish a Slave-holding Despotism.

I am more than ever confirmed in my life-long abhorance of Slavery, and am fully convinced that to destroy it root and branch, would end the Rebellion and restore Peace.

Would that the Administration and all in authority could see and feel this fact as clearly as I do.

But the Great work is progressing though slowly, yet it goes on. I believe the Almighty will not suffer the war to cease until His ends are accomplished.

Yours very affectionately, Albert Foster to Mrs. C. E. Foster, his wife.

Surviving horrors upon horrors

Lying down one day with a headache, Albert experienced a premonition of a nightmare and proceeded to miraculously survive some of the most intense fighting in the entire Civil War during the Second Battle of Fredericksburg (I’m almost positive the article I link to cites Albert’s letter as a source: “one of its soldiers recounted five men around him being killed in the space of ten square feet”):

…as I had been on guard over the teams the night before and marched about 6 miles in the forenoon, I had a severe head-ache so I laid down on my blanket and went to sleep, and slept and dreamed. We, Co. H. in particular were crossing a bridge over a fearful Chasm when it gave way beneath our feet, and many were dashed upon the rocks below. I succeeded, by clinging to the falling timbers, to reach the brow of the precipice, which seemed to over-hang the frightful place and by getting hold of some shrubs, that grew on the top, I drew myself up in a state of exhaustion, and I woke. It was some time in the night. I felt weak, but my head was clear and free from pain.

Without giving any interpretation to my dream or even attempting it, I arose, with the increased conviction that I was soon to pass through one of the most trying scenes of my life. Orders came to get ready to march in an hour. We made our coffee and ate our breakfast, and crossed the river before day-light, and formed in the front line of Battle on the same place it occupied last fall, except that the Rebbs held the road, that I wrote to you about then, and our division was drawn up within about 80 rods of it, and ordered to lie down on our Arms…

Sharp picket firings commenced on both sides, about noon of the following day, and continued till about 4 o’clock, when we rose and charged on them, and drove them from the road and back to the bluffs. And about dark we, for the first time, were relieved from the front line and went to the rear, cooked and ate our suppers, and lay down. But about 12 o’clock at night, was ordered up and marched in a circuitous route, about two and a half miles and day-light found us again like Uriah, in the front line of battle, before the great Rebbel Slaughter Pen, with 2 or 3 lines in our rear.

I speak now of the Light Division, which seems to have been selected for the most dangerous and daring position. It was now evident that a charge was to be made, with the Light Division in front. But to complete the arrangements 5 Companies were needed to form a Skirmish line and 3 apart. These were selected from the 5th Wisconsin, counting from the right and included Co. H. The charge was made successfully, and in 11 minutes, it is said we lost 1800 men. The five next to me on the left, fell in a space less than 10 ft. square, all killed but one. He was shot through the bowells and died in about two hours. Of these, were our Captain, 2nd Lieutenant, 1st and 2nd Sargeants. The 2nd, 3rd, and 5th on the right also fell.

We pursued the enemy about 4 miles that day, when they received heavy re-inforcements and made a stand about 6 o’clock P.M. A great battle ensued, which lasted till dark, on the next day.

We had the whole Richmond Army to contend with, and were almost surrounded, and obliged to fall back across the river. Immediately on stopping I was ordered to report to Head Qr. and have built ovens and started a Bakery. 3 days ago I was sent for, to build one at the Corps Hdqtr. and have nearly got it started.

For context on those last lines, for reasons even Albert didn’t understand, one day he was assigned to build more efficient bread ovens and proved so good at it the officers kept asking him to build more.

Seeing New York City

In the summer of 1863, not long after Albert fought in the Battle of Gettysburg (unfortunately his letter about that battle is lost), New York City erupted in draft riots that resulted in over a hundred deaths. About which, of course Albert had some thoughts:

Our troops are in fine spirits since their victories in Maryland, and anxious to meet the Rebbs again. The greatest cause of discouragement we have now is the news of riots and other troubles in the North, relative to the Draft. If they would just now turn out promptly and cheerfully and help us, it seems we have a sure thing of it. If we are defeated the Northern Pro-Slavery democracy will alone be responsible.

One silver lining for Albert is that the draft riots led to his regiment being sent away from the front lines and stationed on Governors Island in New York City. I can only imagine the awe of an Iowan farmer seeing New York Harbor for the first time:

We see sights here in this great town. Ships from all parts of the world. And of all kinds, from the Man of War to the little skiff. The Masts in place look like a dry Pine Forrest.

Another brush with death

During the Second Battle of Rappahannock Station, Albert barely survived yet another fierce battle:

Supposing that you have, ere this will reach you, seen a full account of this great Battle, I shall write only relative to our action as a Brigade. The Battle raged, chiefly with Artillery, till about sundown, our Brigade keeping its position in the woods about 1 1/2 miles back from the River. We halted and loaded our pieces. The 6th Maine sent out the Skirmish line. I knew then that we had to Storm the Fortifications before us. With loaded guns and fixed bayonets, we started, Double Quick for the Fort directly in front of our Reg. and the 6th Maine.

It was now nearly dark, nature drew her mantle over the scene, and so must I. We went straight up into the Fort, discharged our pieces and took the Bayonets. The enemy gave way, some right and some left, and some attempted to cross the Pontoon Bridge, immediately in the rear of the Fort. I, with several others of our company, took a position on the brow of the hill between the Fort and the Bridge. And from the number of Horses and men I saw tumble over into the river, I judge we did some execution.

While here I was hit on my leg by a spent ball and one bullet passed through my coat sleeve near my right elbow. Our Reg. lost, in killed and wounded, about 60. The 6th Main, about 140, the other Regs. Slight. It is said we took 1800 Prisoners, one battery, 2000 stand of arms.

On being surrounded by people who don’t share his beliefs

It seemed to distress Albert to no end that the federal government and Union Army seemed ambivalent about freeing the slaves. One cold night in January, this disconnect really seemed to get to him, but ultimately strengthened his resolve:

There is a great deal of noise in camp tonight, I think old Alcohol is about. About one Hundred and Forty of our boys have re-enlisted, and have just been paid off, and are going to start for home tomorrow Morning on 35 days furlough, and are having a regular drunk. Here as elsewhere it operates on different individuals differently. Some are swearing enough to make the devils blush, others quarreling and fighting. Some singing “I’m going home” and so on. All seem to be happy.

As for myself it is quite the reverse. For several days I have been quite low in spirits, probably on account of being disappointed in a cherished hope. With the last few days I have commenced several letters, but somehow I could not write, and threw them in the fire. Uneasy, restless, unsettled and despondent, I have not always been free from such feelings at home. Why should I expect to be here? But time will bring a change in this as in everything else…

We can get plenty to eat here now of Government Rations, and we have got soft bread about three times a week. But other goods are very high–60 cts. a pound for butter, such as would not be fit to eat at home, so rancid and strong. Cheese 50 cts, oysters and fruit, one dollar a can. Our Christmas supper cost us $1.25 apiece. So you see to supply but a few of the luxuries would consume the whole of ones wages…

Jan. 10–I rec’d your letter of Dec. 27th last evening, and see now what a mess I have stirred up by writing about coming home, and almost resolved not to write any more letters…

Some think the war is nearly over, but I entertain no such idea as yet. I expect to see as hard fighting as ever yet. The uprooting of Slavery and its entire eradication from this country, is not the work for a moment. But I am more than ever convinced, that it must be expected before Peace will be restored.

I am every day more convinced of the truth and consistency of my life-long Anti-Slavery Principals. And, thank God that I have lived to contribute my mite towards the overthrow of that withering blighting, damning Institution!

It seems to have been my fortune to be on the unpopular side of great and important questions. And this is not an exception. Here I found myself in a Democratic Reg. where an Abolitionist Negro and a Rebel were alike detested, and the latter by far the most respected. But this state of things has not moved me.

And now I can see a great change in the sentiment of this portion of the army on the subject during the past year. And after all my position here may be Providential. And whatever of evil influence I may have been surrounded by, they have only tended to confirm and strengthen me in my convictions of right.

Legacy

These letters riveted me as a child, and I think often about Albert’s inspired conviction that the battle with the Confederacy could very well last as long as Scotland’s civil war with England. In so many ways, he saw the lines clearly as not even being fully about slavery, on which he obviously passionately knew where he stood, but about self-government vs. despotism. And that’s a battle that’s clearly still being fought.

But no matter my own small little role in that long fight, I could only hope to have the clarity, moral conviction, and bravery Albert possessed. (I wouldn’t mind taking his writing talent while I’m at it). It’s quite a legacy.

What are the words you’ll leave behind?

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Photo: Copy of Albert Foster’s letters