Letter No. 12.
Dear Doctor:
Along in March, 1863, in the latter days of the active field service of Company K,
and in fact, the latter days of the 68th Regt. E. M. M., rumors of Gen. Marmaduke
coming on a raid, were growing apace. The question of the Emancipation and arming the
colored troops was being discussed and settled in the minds of the people,- soldiers and
citizens. About that time and in the court house in Ironton, we heard Capt. C. R. Peck
give his sensible view of the whole matter. That settled the question at once with the
writer. He said,- “Well, arm them (the colored people) and let them fight for their
freedom. If one gets killed that will save a white soldier.” The southern folks were much
concerned about the coming “Niggah equality” and the fear that “our daughters will be
forced to marry a big, black niggah!” We nearly fainted with fright along that line.
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Company K was relieved by order of Gov. Gamble, to return to their homes,
about the 1st day of April, 1863, to look after their crops. Some of us were allowed to
take our big “Savage” revolvers home with us. They looked savage and were long and
heavy and were actually savage when you could persuade one to fire. They were good
“snappers” though.
Col. Smart was in command at Patterson, with only about 400 to 500 of the
M. S. M. Cav., in April 1863, and daily the rumor grew, of the Marmaduke raid. We did
not then know, only on paper, just what a raid was but by the 25th of April, we knew
experimentally, all and more too, what a raid was,- than we cared to know.
On April 20th, we heard cannon firing in the direction of Patterson, but no word
as to its meaning. On the 21st, Sergt. Jas. A. Greenwood and R. F. Lowrance were riding
volunteer patrol up and down Cedar Creek, and Lieut. J. M. Wilkinson yet suffering
somewhat with his severe wound received at Bollinger’s Mill on Feb. 4th, 1863, required
the services of his surgeon, Dr. Jas. M. Short, who had had experience as assistant in
Col. Lowe’s Regt. of Claib. Jackson’s Militia. He was also in company with the boys on
patrol, and they all came to see Lieut. Wilkinson. While there, in the early afternoon, the
writer was breaking tobacco ground and his attention was attracted by the firing of
revolvers down at the fork of the Marble Hill and Fredericktown roads, a mile to the
south. We went immediately to the house and reported and told them that the irregular,
but quick succession of the three shots surely indicated that the firing was purposely done
at some one. The Lieutenant said, “Boys, I wish you would ride down that way and see
what is going on.” The three were soon on their horses,- Greenwood, Lowrance and Dr.
Short. Greenwood and Lowrance were well armed. At Miles Collier’s at the fork of the
road,- Mrs. Collier hurriedly told them that Harris Greer, an old man, a citizen who lived
farther up Cedar Creek, had rode by going down to Cold Water (not knowing much about
a raid) but soon come back as fast as his horse could carry him, with the rebs right on his
heels and that, as he left the Fredericktown road, turning off to the right on the Marble
Hill road, they fired three shots at him and he halted and surrendered - a prisoner, - and
that they took him down the creek. He then began to learn the A B C of a raid and by the
time they let him go away below Chalk Bluff, his education was completed. He was a
graduate with a diploma, - his parole. He had the good company of Andrew Carter and
Wm. Wakefield the round trip. They were old men, - citizens, also, - and their crime was
“Loyalty to their country and the FLAG”. Each one of the old Union men lost a son in
the U. S. Army. Comrades Dick Greer died in 1863 at Vicksburg, Miss., in Company H,
31st Mo. Inft.; Madison, or Drury M., Carter was killed by Price’s men in 1864, a
member of Company A, 47th Mo. Inft. Vols.; and Peyton Wakefield died of measles at
Nashville, Tenn., in Dec. 1864, or early Jan. 1865, a member of Company A, 47th Regt.
Mo. Inft. Vols.
The old Lieutenant ordered us to saddle the horses and buckle on our arms and
haul on our uniform dresses, which we did, but not too soon, as we saw Dr. Short and
Sergt. Lowrance coming at a furious gallop,- Lowrance bearing to the right on his way to
neighbor Henry Pugh’s to warn him. Dr. Short came to us and hurriedly gave in his
report, as stated. He said, “The whole world down about Capt. Powers is full of rebels!”
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Said Sergt. Greenwood, like the lion, which he was, wanted to make a “McDonald
charge” on them and release their old friend, Mr. Greer, and they had hard persuasion to
get him to not go right into the very jaws of death! Mrs. Capt. Powers was now fast
learning what a raid was. Our first companion, - Mrs. Powers’ daughter, then near 15
years old, often told the writer of this first lesson in the raid business.. She was just
recovering from a severe spell of sickness and said that these scamps took all of her good
dried hams. Then they hunted the house for their best home made linsey dresses and
when found, they would tear or cut the waist off and hand them back and keep the skirts
to make themselves shirts! No good horse escaped them if they got their hands on it.
Spoons, knives, forks and such like went the same way. The meal and flour tubs were
left empty. That was what a raid, - Gen. Marmaduke’s raid, - was. We now knew a raid.
We mounted our horses, as by that time we had learned how to keep our hearts
swallowed down to the proper place. We kept cool. The doctor asked “What are you
going to do boys?” On reaching the road, we saw no one at all, and so rode up to the
Greenwood home. The three Greenwood boys and Sergt. Jas. P. Ellis were away
somewhere in the hills. We then rode back down the road a short distance and returned
to the right into the woods but were barely clear of the road before the rebs rode up to
Greenwoods, so they afterwards told us, expressing surprise that we did not meet the
rebs. We took a hill on them and hid our horses and then took in the raid with a small
glass, until dark. After their guns passed on their way to their camp on Twelve Mile
Creek, we could hear the familiar “chuck-a-luck”. Then we returned to a deep hollow
and went in home for our supper, blankets and forage. Only three rebels had been to our
house, - officers, - but they behaved nicely and were at that moment asleep in Henry
Pugh’s bed, nearby,- and he not at home to welcome(?) them. They ate breakfast with
the old Lieutenant next morning, - “Asking no questions for conscience sake,” we
supposed. Among the boys of Company K whom they took prisoners, were Drury M.
Carter and Jas. H. Barker, both old “Haw Eaters”, or Barker in particular. He was game
to the end. When in line at Patton, as their paroles were being given them, a rebel told
Comrade Barker to haul off his own coat, which he refused to do. Said he had bought it
from Uncle Samuel, and had paid him for it, and “the best man gets it” said he. The reb
then began the tussel, but a rebel sergeant who had taken Comrade Barker’s part all the
time during his imprisonment, came along and drove the rebel away. Then the escort
took them to the picket line, on their way home and were shaking hands with the paroled
boys, saying “Good-bye, boys.” As they came to Comrade Barker, he stuck his hands in
his pockets and suddenly turned away saying “I G-d, every dog shake his own paw!”
“Not much shake hands with a reb.” Was his apology.
We soon learned that Col. Smart had fought well at Patterson, holding his men
well until they had already passed through the mountain gorge called the “Stoney
Battery” and were nearing Big Creek bottom, seven miles north of Patterson, when they
encountered Tim Reeves, who had hurried through Ailey’s Gap, west of Col. Smart in the
main road, and over the mountain and down onto Col. Smart on the west side of the
mouth of Stoney Battery. Here they had a pretty hard fight and some few were killed and
wounded on both sides. Then Col. Smart moved to the hill on the north side of Big Creek
and held old man Tim Reeves well in hand, daring him to cross the creek, but the old
“Swamponian” stayed on his own side of the creek. Here it was that “French”
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Alexander, one of our very first Home Guards received a pretty severe wound in his
shoulder and was ever after a cripple from his wound. He was a member of Capt.
Leeper’s company if we are not badly mistaken.
Col. Smart then fell back to Pilot Knob, with most of his camp equippage, & c.
He had certainly done well with his small force, and no guns. Marmaduke shelled the old
empty fort on the hill at Patterson, but did not harm to any one. We must not leave
Patterson until we notice the last brave deed of Lieut. Richard E. Buehler, the telegraph
operator. His last act was to stand by his instrument until the last moment, when he got
orders to fire his office and get away, - he rattled off his last dispatch and clapped the
match and mounted his horse and made his escape by dint of good hard riding. His
attendant was an Ill. boy by the name of Sam Kemp, who kept up the wire from Pilot
Knob to Patterson. He, it was, who gave us this story. Lieut. Buehler was a Russian by
birth and his father slipped young Dick, as we called him on board the vessel in the act of
sailing from Russia to the U. S. to keep him from having to serve his five years in the
Russian army. Before he died some years ago, he made Wayne County one of her most
faithful circuit clerks.
Some of Company K got away to Marble Hill, from Marmaduke. Bob Sullivan
and A. B. Wakefield said they were piloted to Marble Hill by our young comrade, Asbury
Peterson, a young brother of Sid Peterson, an old “Haw Eater”. John Sullivan, Capt. P.
L. Powers and Lieut. Jas. T. Sutton made their escape to Pilot Knob and joined in the
pursuit of Marmaduke by Gen. Vandever, who marched from Pilot Knob to Jackson in
Cape Girardeau County, where he first encountered Marmaduke, and we understood that
soon Gen. McNeil joined him from Cape Girardeau. Lieut. Sutton and Capt. Powers
were on Gen. Vandever’s staff to Chalk Bluff, where they left Marmaduke to “Go on his
way rejoicing” at his very clear escape back into his lower “earth works”,- the swamps.
John Sullivan was a great deal of the time, forward with Gen. Vandever’s skirmishers and
afterwards pointed out places to the writer where he was in line down near Bloomfield.
From all we could learn from Lieut. Sutton’s knowledge as a staff officer to Gen.
Vandever and the accounts given us by our old friends, Harris Greer, Andrew Carter and
Wm. Wakefield, who were being carried along as prisoners by Marmaduke. Gen.
Vandever’s efforts to crush Marmaduke amounted to nothing more than a “Shoo out o’
here!” Gen. Vandever just “shooed” Marmaduke out of Missouri! Anyway, Marmaduke
was suffered to make his raid and successfully retreat to Arkansas without punishment.
We then heard that Gen. McNeil, with his command, marched to Dallas, or Marble Hill,
from Bloomfield, to have one of his gentle(?) times with Marmaduke, who had passed up
Cedar Creek and Twelve Mile Creek to Fredericktown and thence to Jackson and then to
the Cape. Gen. McNeil learning of Marmaduke’s moves, hastened to Cape Girardeau
and joined his forces of the gallant M. S. M to the forces at the Cape, - and so when
Marmaduke came up to take the Cape by storm, he got better acquainted with Gen.
McNeil’s fighting qualities. We heard that when Gen. McNeil received Marmaduke’s
demand to surrender the city and stores there, he told him to “Go to h--l”.
The battle of Cape Girardeau was fought April 25th and 26th, 1863. The fearful (?) siege
was over and Gen. McNeil at once began pursuit, but after joining forces with Gen.
Vandever, his ranking officer, near Jackson, that officer ordered a halt. So it continued
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that way to Chalk Bluff, - so the boys told us. At Chalk Bluff, Gen. McNeil’s horse was
struck by a bullet and fell and the General got behind a tree as rebel lead was then
warming the air. Gen. McNeil’s orderly kept his eye on the wounded horse, which soon
got up all right and the orderly swung over the side of his horse and made a successful
dash for the General’s wounded horse amid a shower of lead. Lieut. Sutton told us this
story, as he was an eye witness to the whole affair and said that as the orderly came
dashing to cover with the wounded horse, Gen. McNeil stood with his hands ready to
smack them, which he did as his orderly dashed up, he said, “By G-d, I’ll reward you for
that !” Had, by some change, Gen. McNeil been put in command of the whole forces,
Marmaduke would surely have been ridden over and crushed long before he reached his
floating bridge at Chalk Bluff. So ended the Marmaduke raid in southeast Missouri, in
1863. The writer was taken sick in the woods soon after Marmaduke passed up Cedar
Creek and could not go with the boys, - so his story of the raid is mainly made up of
recollections of the transactions as related by his comrades, which were certainly true.
As soon as matters quieted down, after the Marmaduke raid was over and the
boys had returned to their homes and we out of the bush, a call was made for old
Company K, 68th Regt. E. M. M., to assemble at our old parade and drill field at Cold
Water. Capt. Powers then informed us of a new arrangement that had been made
between the U. S. Government and the State authorities, that a detail was to be made of
the best and most trusty union men, who could best leave their homes, of the E. M. M.
And that these details were to at once enter into active service as Provisional Enrolled
Missouri Militia. The Captain already knew that there were a number of us who needed
no detailing, as we were anxious to be in the active service. So a number of us at once
volunteered to go. It was that Company K’s quota were mostly volunteers and he made
but few details.
Our company was to be mounted and to be made up out of Companies K, D and
Capt. Bunyard, Capt. Davis and Capt. Wilson’s companies that had as yet, never seen
active service as E. M. M. The details from these five companies of the 68th Regt. E. M.
M. were organized into Company M, 8th Provisional Regt. E. M. M., P. L. Powers,
Captain; Jas. T. Sutton, 1st Lieut.; Robert H. Fulton, 2nd Lieut.; Jas. P. Ellis, 1st __
Orderly Sergt.; C. B. L. Rowland, 1st Duty Sergt.’ Jas. A. Greenwood, 2nd Duty Sergt.;
R. F. Lowrance, 3rd Duty Sergt.; M. P. Tate, 4th Duty Sergt.; H. C. Wilkinson, 1st Corp.
& Drill Sergt.; A. J. F. Moser, 2nd Corp; Drury M. Carter, 3rd Corp.; Josh. M. C. Young,
4th Corp.; C. A. Bennett, 5th Corp.; H. Tom Fulton, 6th Corp.; Joe Maburn, 7th Corp. &
Commissary Sergt.; Jacob Ivester, 8th Corp.
Capt. P. L. Powers, Lieut. Jas. T. Sutton, Sergts. Jas. P. Ellis, Jas. A. Greenwood,
R. F. Lowrance, and Corps. H. E. Wilkinson, A. J. F. Moser, Drury M. Carter and C. A.
Bennett were all of Company K, 68th E. M. M. And Lieut. Robt. H. Fulton and Sergt. C.
B. L. Rowland and Corp. H. Tom Fulton were of Capt. J. E. Davis’ company and Sergt.
M. P. Tate and Corp. Josh M. C. Young, Joe Melburn and Jacob Ivester were of
Company D. Of the old “Haw Eaters” we had Capt. P. L. Powers, Sergt. R. F. Lowrance
and Corps. Drury M. Carter and C. A. Bennett. Our old muster-in-roll shows that old
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Company K’s men were ordered into active service into Company M, 8th Prov. E. M. M.,
May 12th 1863, at Ironton, Mo.
Ironton was our first rendezvous, but we were soon ordered to Mineral Point, 25
miles north of Pilot Knob, on the Iron Mountain Ry. At Mineral Point, we first met the
Major of our 3rd Battalion, - Felix Laton of Perryville, Mo. We will always remember
Maj. Felix Laton as one of the best men we ever met in the army. He held a commission
later on in Company C, 47th Mo. Inft. Vols., as 1st Lieut. Gen. Jas. R. McCormick was
our commanding general. Col. Wm. H. McClaim commanded the 8th Prov. Regt.
E. M. M. He was from Appleton, Perry County. Maj. Chas, A. Weber of Perry County,
commanded the 1st Batallion and Maj. Vel (or Vle) of Cape Girardeau, the 2nd Battalion;
Henry Brenica was Sergt. Maj.; Lawry Watkins of Potosi, Lieut. Col.; Green of Marble
Hill, or Dallas probably, was Adjutant; and we must not forget the kindness of Dr. Henry
Smith, our assistant surgeon. We will always hold a warm place in our heart for Dr.
Henry Smith, for he was so kind to us when we were sick and always had a word of cheer
for the soldier. Our 3th Battalion was made up of Companies I, K, L ,and M. We cannot
now call to mind the commander of Company I,- not being associated with them, but
little. Company K was commanded by Lieut. or Capt. -- McGahan. Company L,
commanded by Capt. Henry Finley of Bloomfield fame in Jan. 1863. Company M, of
course, by Capt. P. L. Powers. Company M was armed with the Enfield Carbine, - a
muzzle loader, - 58 caliber, a good gun in its day, - tho’ too short to be handy as a gun in
the manual of arms, but handy on horseback.
We cannot refrain telling a little funny thing in which a pretty fat hog came out as
the hero of the - night, soon after we camped at Mineral Point. At feed time, one of the
boys knocked Sir Piggy down and got him in a sack to be handy of course. The
Lieutenant came along and “pard” dropped his sack of “Oats, Lieutenant.” And he got
down on his - oats to chat a bit with the lieutenant who soon passed out of sight. That was
“pard’s” opportunity for active operations, and here he came out to the camp fire to clean
Sir Piggy, but behold, Sir Piggy said “Queek” as he kicked out of the sack and away he
ran. It was so funny to see “pard” grabbing for Sir Piggy’s rudder, but “tail hold
slipped”. Sir Piggy lived over it!
Yours truly,
H. C. Wilkinson,
Damon, Mo.
Letter No. 13.
Dear Doctor:-
We had scarcely seen each other in this new Company M when, as nearly as we
could make out the case, it had reached our Captain’s ears that Sam Hildebrand was up
from below, and if a march could be successfully stolen on him, possible he might be
taken in. Once in the latter part of December, 1862, Company K came so nearly getting
him at old man ‘Cobb’s down on Castor River below the David Bollinger Steam Mill,
where we had our night battle with Capt. Ellison and Dan McGhee, that they captured the
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68 caliber carbine that Sam had taken when he killed Ad. Cunningham,- a member of
Capt. Henry Finley’s Company of the 68th E. M. M. Ad. had gone home to see his family
and while there, Sam came and murdered him and took his arms. This carbine had a lot
of notches cut on the breech,- we don’t now remember how many, but some where in the
tens or twenties. We were told that Sam had cut a notch to represent each man he had
killed. At this capture of his gun was the time we re-captured Columbus Bailey, a fine
looking young man. We then took Bailey to prison at Ironton, but he soon after enlisted
in the Union Army.
Well, to our story; Our Captain resolved to make a kind of a still night drive for
Sam. Getting permission to go, he selected Lieut. Jas. T. Sutton and 17 of his most trusty
men, including Sergts. Jas. P. Ellis and Jas. A. Greenwood. The writer was taken very
sick the morning this scout was made up, so of course, had to remain behind, partly
delirous with fever. It was late in the afternoon when this scout marched from Mineral
Point to, - they knew not where, - save the Captain. They managed to make Coldwater, a
distance of 55 miles, in the night and then made their way east to Castor River, to the
residence of old man Solomon Whitener’s,- just below where the Coldwater and Marble
Hill road intersects the Bloomfield and Fredericktown road. A guard of two men was
sent up the road, with instructions to not halt or fire on any body of men approaching
from that direction, but to steal in very softly and report. Sergt. M. P. Tate and Corp. Bob
Sullivan were selected for this ticklish duty. The boys with Capt. Powers and Lieut.
Sutton were in Mr. Whitener’s barn, built of logs, with a long, open shed, facing the road,
which ran along between the barn shed and a steep hill on the east side of Castor River
bottom. They had hardly finished feeding their horses when the picket came stealing in
close to the fence, which separated the road from the barn shed. Horses’ feet could be
heard approaching, and the picket hoys had not time to climb over the fence and so
crouched in a corner of the fence. As the horsemen, four in number, came along side of
the barn shed, one of them threw his gun in a shooting position and said, “There is a man
now!” He had discovered Tate and Sullivan as they crouched in the corner of the fence.
That was the poor fellow’s last words, for instantly, 17 Enfield Carbines belched forth
and three of the horsemen tumbled off in the road, dead men! The fourth man made up
the steep hill and the revolvers began to pop in quick succession! We afterwards learned
that this fellow was shot all over,- but not hurt., or but little. One ball cut the hair off of
the top of his head and another raked the bottom of one foot. We also learned that this
fellow was so shaken up that he returned to his home, where he wisely remained. We
have forgotten his name. When daylight came, it was found that there were eight more of
these fellows, presumably Sam Hildebrand with the main gang, and the four were his
advance guard. The eight horses had taken to the steep hill some 100 yards back up the
road, as they heard the firing down at the barn,- it was supposed they took to the hill. The
three dead men were taken into Mr. Whitener’s house and Lieut. Sutton said he believed
he knew one of them. He said he resembled one of the men who was so badly wounded
as he turned the corner of the stack of lumber in the “Doxology” of the night fight at
Bollinger’s Mills, that he could only be taken a few miles to the head of Turkey Creek,
by Capt. Ellison and his men on their retreat from Bollinger’s Mill. Lieut. Sutton had
taken a detachment and followed Ellison next morning after the Bollinger’s Mill fight
and found some two or three wounded men left at a farmer’s house,- one of them, after he
was wounded turning the stack of lumber, got to the branch and called lustily for us to
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come and take him in; but as it was yet night, the Lieutenant would not permit us to go.
So his comrades came back and took him away. He said he caught his dose turning the
corner of the lumber stack. So now here he lay, dead in Mr. Solomon Whitener’s house
on Castor River! Examination showed the pistol shot which was then well. Then
searching his pocket, the parole given him by Lieut. Sutton was found, all in the
Lieutenant’s own handwriting.
The people on Castor River told us that this affair put a stop to the bushwhackers
going along the Bloomfield Road, up and down Castor River,- for quite a time. They
were afraid of “Powers’ War”, as our company was afterwards called,- and well they
might be.
We pause here to notice how it went with the individual man, or woman, young or
old, during that four long, and bloody years. It was one continual dread, day and night.
O, the terrible strain! If you were not in dread for yourself, for the moment, you had dear
friends or neighbors, or dear brothers, fathers, sons, or grand sons, who might at any
moment be shot or hung, or their houses burned or robbed. Often at the dead hours of
night, men and boys, even our old grandfathers, were called out and shot down in cold
blood! Now, in times of peace, it seems unreasonable to think back how it was over that
dark, dark time. We could see one word written on every countenance and everywhere.
It was the one word,- ANXIETY! Now, while that Castor River country was asleep,
there were the lives of three men snapped in a twinkle! Then, if this had not have been
done, no one knew whom they might rob or kill at any moment. Such a thing as absolute
security, as in times of peace, but for the moment, was no where known in the great State
of Missouri. Even the great City of St. Louis had its dreads and anxieties.
One word for our Captain,- Pinkney Lee Powers. He was a very peculiar man,
either at home or in the army. No one ever dreamed of a bit of cowardice about him,
throughout the war. On the regular battle field, he seemed to the writer rather like a fish
out of water. He was not at home there. We have stood at his side when the “zip” of the
flying bullets were cutting close by, but we could never see the real coward in his eye,-
but he would forget, or did not take in the situation at a glance and see the thing to do and
put it in words like a flash, to his men. Sometimes it would seem that he would forget
that he had men with him. Here he was now, in command of his third company, and it
seemed that he did not improve in this respect. But put him on scout duty with men of
his own selecting and his own plan to execute, and he was at home. He would take as
many as ten or twenty men and go as close to the enemy in force as any other officer.
His favorite command was not found in the Army tactics. When the enemy was found,
like the charge planned and led on Bloomfield, in January, 1863, his word was “Pitch into
‘em boys!’. He was generally at the head of the “Pitch into’em” If, in 1861, he had been
appointed to independent scout duty during the whole war, with the liberty to select his
own men, individual and numbers, his services would have exceeded what they were,
although very valuable as it was. He could plan and execute his own plans far better than
to execute the plans of others. It was a great wonder to the writer how well he could pick
up information as to things in his line,- “scouting down below/” He had his FRIENDS
and he had his ENEMIES, but he was free and open, ever ready to help the distressed,
even his ENEMIES in distress, got their share of his kindness. He hated pillaging, as he
did the devil. Woe be unto the man under his command, if caught pillaging or drinking
to excess. He always scrupulously respected private property and the lives of his
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prisoners,- no matter how mean they were. He would protect the life of his prisoner with
his own life, until a hearing was had. He is now no more and we pen these words as a
memento of him, and just as we knew him. He, like the generous Lincoln, would always
intercede for the lives of his enemies. Never was a man shot by his order,- save in action.
Soon after the return of the Castor River scout, just related, the whole 8th was
moved to Potosi, three miles to the west or southwest of Mineral Point. The 3rd Iowa
Cav. Vols were then quartered at Potosi. While the 8th Prov. Remained there, the leading
citizens had a grand flag raising in front of the court house. The Iowa boys turned out
and did honor to the occasion by marching through the streets, mounted while the local
band on foot furnished the music. Then the Iowa boys dismounted and formed a hollow
square in which stood the high flag pole. They fired, by volley, the salute as the big flag
went up. The then green 8th was not called in, in the parade and march, save one
company whose home was there in Washington County. The green 8th was eye witness
though. Judge Owens made the leading speech of the occasion. (We think it was Judge
Owens or Owen) followed by the Colonel of the 3rd Iowa Cav. Vols. The Judge was
uncompromisingly bitter in his speech, but the Colonel was very mild and pleasant but
the secession women got a good share of his disapproval. We are very sorry that we have
forgotten this Colonel’s name.
Sometime in June, 1863, the 8th Prov. was ordered to Cape Girardeau, to do guard
duty and some scout duty. Sometime we were called to fatigue duty to unload steam
boats and their barges of forage and commissary stores. This was very irksome to us of
more active experience. The 2nd Regt. M. S. M. Cav. was quartered on the south side of
the Bloomfield Pike from the 8th on the north side. The morning and evening guns
boomed on the hill in old Fort B where the Normal School building now stands. There
was a sod fort, or breast works on an elevation a little to the northwest of our camp that
was hastily built by Gen. McNeil, in the battle with Marmaduke. This fort was a mile
west of the city and commanded both the Marble Hill pike, leading west, and the
Bloomfield pike, leading south-west. News of Gen. Grant’s investment of Vicksburg,
Miss., was anxiously read, as now it was June 1863, and the great Mississippi River yet
held in part by the enemy. It was now two years since a steamer had plied between St.
Louis and New Orleans.
By the last of June, Company M had become very restless and greatly desired to
be on the move. Only one or two small scouts had been made west to Cedar Creek, 60
miles away. Sometime after the middle of June, the whole 8th were ordered to
Bloomfield. On one expedition. Lieut. Sutton visited the home of a brother of Capt.
Ellison, who received a 68 caliber ball through the ankle in the charge on our tents at the
Bollinger’s Mill fight. It was John Sullivan or the writer who was to blame for it.
Ellison’s wife was badly frightened at the sight of the Lieutenant and his men, but Ellison
only laughed at her and to assure her, he began hallowing and joking with the Lieutenant,
all in good will. Owing to poor surgery, his leg had been amputated far above the knee,
and the bone then protruded badly. It was then thought he would die of his wound, but
we never learned how he came out. Sergt. Greenwood and a few others went to a house
in Bloomfield and were at once attracted by what they said was the prettiest girl they ever
saw! The boys remarked to each other that she was the picture of Columbus Bailey,-
then her father came out and asked the boys what they knew of Columbus Bailey. After
telling him of how Columbus was captured while we were at Bollinger’s Mill and his
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escape and recapture and enlistment in the Union Army, he said “That girl is Columbus
Bailey’s sister!”
Soon, we saw what we were called to Bloomfield for. The forage and general
army stores began to pour in from Cape Girardeau, for the coming from Pilot Knob, of
Gen. Davidson’s command of several thousand men. Their destination was somewhere
south probably to hold the country at Vicksburg, west of the river, while Gen. Grant held
Gen. Pemberton within the walls of that city.
As soon as Gen. Davidson arrived in person in Bloomfield, he ordered the whole
8th Prov. back on the Capt. Girardeau road to Castor River to put in order the crossing, as
there was no bridge there. It was wet weather then, and Castor River was pretty high.
Under command of Col. McLain, we fell to work to lay corduroy of fence rails in the ford
of the river, forking then down with forked saplings. We worked like busy beavers in the
water, waist deep, some three or four days. Some up the river, throwing in the rails to be
floated down to us and some to act as a “boom” to catch and hold the rails until called for
by the regular workmen. Our old Colonel worked in the water with his men,- the same as
a private. Our Major, Febix Laton, was no less active in the water. While here engaged,
the joyful news reached us the Gen. Grant was in complete command at Vicksburg and
Gen. Banks at Port Hudson and the grand old Mississippi was open. Our captain then
returned from his home at Coldwater to tell us that Albert Grant Powers had stopped at
his house to remain for 21 years. We finished our disagreeable, unhealthy task of
corduroying Castor River ford, and marched back to the Cape. Many was the poor fellow
to fall sick from this severe exposure, among whom was our much esteemed Major Wm.
F. Taylor, of Company M, who here forever lost his fine, robust health.
Not long after we arrived at the Cape, our regiment was broken up into companies
and parts of companies and sent over the country,- generally near their homes, to do post
and outpost duty and “scouting down below”. It was a happy day for Company M when
this good news came. Maj. Laton was to take his battalion to Wayne, Reynolds, Iron and
Madison Counties to assist the M.S. M. in holding things in line there. James Lindsay
was the Republican candidate for Congress and -----Scott was the other candidate, - Col.
Lindsay’s opponent in the race. So soldiers were soon to be needed to guard the polls
and to furnish the votes also, or a large majority of them. We are sorry now to relate it,
but Col. Lindsay was defeated in the election. We have forgotten how badly, but think
by only a small majority. It was, we think, early in August, 1863, when Companies M
and K of the 8th Prov. arrived at Brunot in the northwest corner of Wayne county and on
the Ironton and Patterson Road. Perhaps Company K did not arrive until later, when Maj.
Laton came to establish his headquarters with us. At Brunot, we found Capt. Hummel’s
Company and Company L (Capt. Leeper’s old company B of the 12th M.S.M.-now of the
3rd M.S. M. Vols. Cav.) Capt. Hummel was the ranking officer. Here also, we found our
old friends, Lieut. R. E. Buehler and his assistant, Sam Kemp, in charge of the telegraph
office, as since the Marmaduke raid, the line had not as yet been re-established to
Patterson, about nine miles farther south. Here John Wybark, who had charge of the reenrolling
of the Military strength was with us and also Dr. Hugh Davidson, who was then
connected with the military affairs, but we do not now remember what. Ex-Capt.
Martindale and John Layman, of Iron County, kept a suttler’s tent here. Theirs was not
the “Army Canteen” that we hear so much about now. No, we were not going to put up
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with as small a thing as a canteen! Our suttler tent kept a 40 gallon barrel of “still house
whiskey”.
Brunot was not a very good place of defense, but it was a healthy, pleasant place,
with good pure, cold water to drink. Roasting ears were in their prime, and apples in Mr.
Horace T. Bailey’s orchard furnished some very good stuffing to go between our hard
tack. That potato patch away off down Crain Pond creek by one of our picket posts had
some splendid fresh potatoes in it,- but they did not all stay there, nor did the rightful
owner get them, either. Our supplies were hauled from Pilot Knob, loaf bread, hard tack
and flour, forage and ammunition. Soon Company M was ordered to Greenville, to
protect John Wybark in his official business. It was late in the afternoon before we began
the march. Martindale and Layman had employed teams to haul their goods along, as
they were going along also. John Wybark, (we think he then ranked as Captain) took as
escort of six of Capt. Hummel’s M. S. M. , probably of company L, 3rd M. S. M., under
command of Sergt. Harvey Biggerstaff, and Capt. Wybark and Martindale got up “steam”
and pushed ahead through Patterson to the residence of Jas. Fulton,- the father of our 2nd
Lieutenant and Comrade John H. Fulton. They all went to bed and to blankets without
posting guards, as they felt secure and probably were a little sleepy. But before daylight,
they found themselves completely surrounded by Tim Reeves’ and his band of about 150
men. Poor Capt. John Wybark, we never saw him more. He was killed by them
somewhere away below. Ex-Capt. Martindale and Sergt. Biggerstaff and his men were
paroled and returned to us sometime after their capture. John Layman wisely stayed in
Patterson. But what of Company M? Well, in his own words, Capt. Powers some how,
or from some cause, had the “mully-grubs”. He was stubborn and dilatory about ordering
us to fall in ready to march, so we were far behind Capt. Wybark and escort. When we
reached the English farm, a mile and a quarter north of Patterson, we were ordered into a
beautiful level oak grove, several paces east of the main road, where we dismounted and
hitched our horses and unsaddled for a night’s rest. It was getting a little light in the
morning when we were aroused by a noise coming to us from towards Patterson that
sounded like a loaded freight engine pulling up a hill. Soon we found that it was Finley
McFadden who then lived in Patterson and that he, knowing of our camp, was running to
us to tell us that,- “Tim Reeves is in Patterson!” This, he spoke with several efforts, as he
had ran with all his might a mile and a quarter, and being slightly excited, he could only
speak between his puffs for breath. On comprehending the situation, Capt. Powers
hurriedly said, “Saddle up! Saddle up quick, boys! Saddle up! Saddle up!” Of course, a
motion of his hand was sufficient for us, as he had not given the command before every
man sprang to his horse, saddle in hand. Next, the Captain said to the first one ready to
mount, “Here! You mount and ride to Brunot and notify Capt. Hummel and tell him that
I will fall back through the “Stoney Battery’ to keep from being cut off from him. Now
you RIDE!” Soon, we were mounted and on our way north, but in good order, at a trot.
It was three miles to “Stoney Battery” through which there is hardly room enough for the
small creek and the road to, with granite mountains towering high on either side. It is
over a half mile through the “Battery”. We wanted to get as far north as where Tim
Reeves attempted to cut off Col. Smart’ retreat in his fight with Marmaduke. Here we
halted on Col. Smarts’ last battle ground with Marmaduke. Soon, we saw Capt. Hummel,
at the head of his men, rapidly approaching from Brunot. No time was lost, as we at once
returned south to the English farm and turned west up Clark’s Creek, to try and intercept
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Reeves at a point three miles away, as we learned he was going west on the Van Buren
Road. We never came up with him, but got in sight of a straggler of his command on the
water of McKenzie’s Creek, two miles northeast of where Piedmont now stands. His
name was Bob Cox and he was straggling by his nearby home. We were cautiously held
in line so we never caught him and he never discovered our presence just then. We
proceeded down McKenzie’s Creek to the farm of Dr. Lee M. Pettit, but Dr. Pettit told
the Captains that Reeves was too far ahead for us to over-take him, and besides Captains
Hummel and Powers had far exceeded their orders in uncovering the outpost at Brunot,
so we fell back to Brunot to await further orders. Some of the boys found a violin in the
negro cabin in Dr. Pettit’s yard and gave us some music while we remained there, but
when ordered to mount, one fellow confiscated the violin amid the cries and pleadings of
old Aunty. She said “Dat’s my ole man’s fiddle.” As she reached to snatch it away from
the --- well, thief! Who but a thief would have taken a poor old crippled negro Adam’s
old fiddle?
Soon after we were on our return, we saw Dr. Pettit come in a gallop to the head
of the line and reported the theft to Capt. Hummel, who at once made the fiddle thief
deliver up Adam’s fiddle to Dr. Pettit, and he bore it back to its dusky, kind-hearted
owner.
Yours truly,
H. C. Wilkinson,
Damon, Mo.