Letter No. 20
AT LEASBURG
Dear Doctor:-
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If you are not yet worn out trying to follow me in my story, just listen and I will
soon close my story of our little exercises with Price & Co.
Yes, daylight, Friday morning, Sept. 30th, 1864, thirty-eight years ago, last
September, found us all astir in Leasburg. Overhead it was dark and cloudy and a little
rain to moisten our beds. As I took up my blanket, I found an empty knapsack, a
“Christian Commission” New Testament (which E. A. Wilkinson still holds) and, O Joy!
A great long plug of tobacco! Comrade Howell Lloyd found a gold pen in a silver holder
on an ebony stock, all in a nice case, then worth about $3.50. He offered it to me for a
strip of tobacco as wide as his finger across the end of the plug. I gave him the tobacco
and told him to keep the pen, then he made me a present of the pen. I sold it in 1875 for
$5.00, but have ever after regretted it. Then look yonder,- two of Company H bearing the
hams and saddle of a very fat little cow! How and where did they get the beef? I “asked
no questions for conscience sake”. We had fine steak and hard tack for breakfast. As the
morning got full under way, we could plainly see the Rebel generals and their aides about
500 yards south, out in the field and open woods on the elevated ground. One I distinctly
remember rode a gray horse and another rode a deep sorrel horse. They were riding
hither and thither viewing us, as we thought, to get at our strength and works. Some of
the men said they saw a gun behind the embankment, but I could not make out a gun at
all. Then Adjt. Murphy ordered Company H into the log house on our right, splendid
quarters. Our officers were not idle by any means. There was a citizen in a gray suit who
was very active in assisting our officers in locating their lines and guns. Then soon
“surrender” talk began to circulate among the boys, and we fully expected it to come at
any moment. As to our surrender, I will say that if Gen. Ewing had surrendered the
forces at Leasburg that morning,- all of the 3rd M.S.M. and many of Companies A and G
of the 47th would have been murdered, and possibly several of the other Companies of the
47th. A few years ago, Capt. Jas. S. McMurtry, in conversation at his home in St. Louis
Co., told me that word of our surrender came to his ears, and he at once took with him
Capt. Robt. L. Lindsay and they went in to Gen. Ewing’s headquarters in the Lea Hotel
and he addressed Gen. Ewing as follows: “Gen Ewing, I have brought Capt. Lindsay in
here to testify to what I shall say. It is this,- When that white flag (pointing to an already
prepared white flag on the table) goes out of here! We full well know that after we shall
have surrendered, we will be murdered, and if we are to die here, we will die in the effort
to make our escape.” The old Captain further added, “I heard no more of our surrender at
Leasburg.” Our surgeon stood with a white flag quite a while to the right of our line, near
a house flying our Field Hospital Flag”, down beyond our right at the Ry. crossing. He
was asking permission of the rebels to return to our last battle field, three miles south to
look after our three dead men left there the evening before also any wounded that might
have been overlooked in our retreat. He got in a light wagon with a driver and started,
but was halted at their advanced line. On hearing him, they told him to return, that they
would bury our dead themselves. All was anxiety as to what would come next, but soon
our anxiety was changed to intense interest as we saw a rebel officer on horse back
coming the road we traveled the evening before, then a private on foot, bearing a white
flag and the main officer in charge on foot also. Then we heard Gen. Ewing’s voice
ringing out to them “HALT THAT FLAG!” Then in a moment we saw Adjt. Murphy
and a private on foot, the private bearing a white flag, and Lieut. Cummings, of Company
I, 47th, on horseback, pass out of the gate way alongside on the hotel at the left of our
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breastworks, and advance to meet their flag. After some waiting, the flags advanced to
about ten yards of each other. Then another space of waiting. Then the two officers,
Murphy and their officer, advanced alone to meet each other midway between the flags.
Salutations but no handshaking. A brief talk, and a stiff bow to each other, then right
about and each returned to his command without looking back. I never knew what was
the purpose, only that we were asked to surrender. Adjt. Murphy gave them to
understand that it was a bad way to surrender. Then requested that they respect our
hospital.
Then the military kaleidoscope was to take another turn, and Yes, there it is boys!
Just as each white flag disappeared from sight, came the “ping! Whew! faiough! Zip!
Zip! Tseete!” of their slugs. Now that was something that we understood like a book.
Yes, that thicket of post oak runners and other bushes in our front began to smoke in
spots. We at once began to reply. Company H was in a good position in the log house,
but the cracks were not filled and were rather wide in some places; but we had, the night
before and that morning early, taken toe rails from around the potato patch in our front
and stood them up so as to protect us. Then the night before, that poor piggy, now laying
out there dead, was just as happy rooting up the potatoes as any other ‘piggy in a potato
patch’ when the rebels charged us. He was not well drilled or he would have flattened
out on the ground like Comrade Martin and the negro did. Someone shot too low to kill a
man, but got poor piggy!
We could not see the rebels, but we would aim low and hold a bead until his gun
smoked again, then we would pull trigger like we did at Pilot Knob, after we drove them
back into cover. As we armed up, Gen. Ewing came in to see us and came to the corner
where I stood, and pointed down the shallow ravine running down to our right, obliquely,
and said “You may expect a heavy column to advance up that ravine presently, then pour
in into them boys!” Then he passed on around our lines, thus encouraging the boys as he
went. We felt like we could then put up a pretty good fight. As the enemy opened on us,
our two re-mounted guns opened, but Gen. Ewing at once ordered them to silence unless
they saw a line advancing. The two or three barrels of whiskey brought down on the train
the night before had been unheaded and the whiskey poured out on the ground, but some
of the boys lay down on the ground and sipped out of the horse tracks, and at least one
poor fellow got too much. He was at the breast works at the right hand corner of our log
house fort, and regardless of the cautions of his comrades, he would get up and expose
himself, as he would shoot and soon a slug of lead struck him in the forehead and he fell
off the breastworks and down into the Ry. cut to rise no more. That was the only
causality with us, of which I heard, during that skirmish.
About noon, the rebels hushed as silent as the grave and so did we. We then ate
dinner, then sometime in the afternoon, some of Company F. came to dread the much
swollen piggy in the potato patch. There was an old looking, large man, bareheaded,
down over him, skinning away, when a squad of Company H and others were seen
coming from the field on their horses all loaded with corn fodder and some food. They
hallowed our “Yonder they come!” The poor old man at once left off skinning piggy and
started to run for the gate way, looking over from us at the boys with the fodder, and just
then a man who was lying down asleep behind our breastworks rose up and fired at the
poor old man, and he fell, shot through the body. Never while I live, will I forget his
pitiful cries. They led him away to our field hospital, where I think he died not many
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hours hence. The man who shot him said he was asleep until his gun fired and awoke
him. As the evening wore on, all anxious as to what next? Well, soon it came. Adjt.
Murphy, I think he was standing on the hotel platform, or near it anyhow, raised his voice
so as to be heard by every one in our fort and said, “Attention!” All eyes and ears were
now open to see what next. Yes, there comes the ladies,- Mrs. Lea and one or two other
ladies, all smiles, as Adjt. Murphy announces that “The ladies are going to hoist their flag
over our works!” The ladies stepped to their tall flag staff and adjusted about as pretty a
flag,- “Old Glory”, as I wish to look at,- to the rope and then they began to haul away,
and “up goes the banner!” It was a glorious shout, yes shout after shout that burst from
every throat as the flag went up the staff. Now, we had a “Post Flag” as ours went up
with the magazine at Pilot Knob. Except the poor old man getting hurt and the ladies’
flag hoisting, the afternoon passed away rather dull. We had become so used to the crack
of the musket and “ping” of the bullets and roar of our guns, that we felt lonesome
without it and so felt rather dull under the silent, expectant strain until dusk. At dusk, we
had the monotony relieved for a bit. A party of horsemen were seen approaching us from
the south, along the road by which we entered Leasburg. As to the number, we couldn’t
make out in the dark and brush. They halted at about 80 or 100 yards of our works and
hailed us and Adjt. Murphy went out in front of our works to answer them. They called
out, “We are Gen. Marmaduke’s men. Who are You?” Adjt. Murphy answered, “Ah, all
right boys, we’re glad to see you! Come right along!” Then they said “We are Gen.
Marmaduke”s men. Who are you?” Then Adjt. Murphy said “Well that’s all right, we
are all right. Come right along in here!” Then he said, “I’m afraid you are playing a
Yankee trick!” Then they said, “Yankee trick! It’s you that are trying to play a Yankee
trick on us!” The Adjt. said, “Now see here, you are acting the ‘bareface’ I’m thinking!”
They replied, “No we aint, we are acting the fair thing, it’s you that are acting the
‘bareface’. We are Gen. Marmaduke’s men. Who are you?” They then vanished from
our view. Evidently they were a scouting part, probably bearers of dispatches and were
just about to step into the wrong pew! We heard no more of them. They were “lost
chickens”. Friday night, we had pickets and chain guard, but the night passed off quietly,
as there was no firing. Saturday morning, Oct. 1st, camp all fine and nice, except for the
anxious expectant strain. Not an enemy in sight and the last we had heard of them was
the mistaken fellows of the previous night. Breakfast of beef and hardtack. Company F
had cooked poor piggy in a cast wash kettle that they had borrowed from some of the
kind hearted natives of Leasburg. They ate and were jolly. I visited my old friend, Fritz
Rickus, to see how he was faring. As broad daylight came, we had a “look-out” with a
field glass up on the roof of the Lea Hotel. Sometime in the forenoon, I think it was, that
Capt. Milks was taking his turn as “lookout”. We were startled and aroused to arms, as
we heard his clear voice ring out, “There is a line over there north, General!” Every man
clutched his gun, ready to open fire any instant, when Capt. Milks continued, “There are
some men coming to us!” Every eye was turned in the direction that Capt. Milks was
looking and sure enough, there came two blue coats, cavalrymen! They came, hats in
hand, motioning towards us, and Adjt. Murphy ran over there to see who they were and
what was wanted. Then we, can see him yet, as he stood on the north parapet, over north
of the Ry. of our little fortification, and shouted the joyful news, “Colonel Beveridge with
600 men of the 17th Ill. Cav. REINFORCEMENTS! Three cheers!” Oh, but if men ever
did shake the earth by cheering, we shook Leasburg! We were in an instant, just wild
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with joy. As our cheers slowed down a little, we heard them reply. It was singularly
grand, almost sublime, to hear the wave of cheers as it began at the head of their line as it
stood over there north of us in a parallel dirt road, but hidden from our view by the
bushes. As shout after shout rose from the 600 throats, it was like water oscillating back
and forth in a long trough. Then here they came in a gallop, shouting “Got any hard tack,
boys? Got any hard tack?” “Yes,” we told them, “Lots of it, boys!” and we at once
made our words good as we made hard tack box lids fly, then we snatched them up on
our shoulders and formed a line outside of our works with our back to them and as they
hastily passed us, they grabbed hands full and pushed on out over the enemy’s abandoned
fields. In the hard tack line, I noticed our old “Dave”, Adjt. Murphy, with a box on his
shoulder and his eyes sparkled with pleasure as his box grew very light very quickly. He
knew he was helping to feed the hungry boys who had ridden all night to reach us,
without anything to eat. We then knew exactly how hungry men feel. Putting all
together that we had eaten from Monday noon, of the 26th, to Friday morning, the 30th,
would not have made a soldier’s square meal. Yes, we were in full sympathy with these
Ill. Boys. They, the 17th Ill. Cav., spent the most of the day scouring the country south
and southeast of us, but only found two or three stragglers. Then they returned towards
Rolla from whence they came.
Saturday night, we posted mounted pickets on all of the approaches and a chain
guard, so we slept soundly until about 2:30 or 3:00 o’clock Sunday morning, Oct. 2nd,
when we were roused to fall in line and soon we were on our way to Rolla. As we
crossed to the north side of the Ry. close by our Field Hospital, I noticed three freshly
made mounds where our poor dead boys lay. Yes, poor boys, we will have to leave you
to hold the fort until called off duty by the Great Captain, when He comes to call forth the
sleeping soldier. Farewell, Comrades, Farewell!
I fell in with Company A, as I had loaned “Spotty Rump” to one of the picket
boys, and it was up in the forenoon before I was able to get my horse. We came to a
force of Cavalry, I think about noon, who I learned was Col. John S. Phelp’s with a
regiment of Cavalry. Then later in the day we came to a larger force at St. James, at or
near Crawford’s Prairie. Here the Infantry boys got aboard of a construction train and
were soon in Rolla. We were near dark getting in and camped among the 49th Mo. Inft.
Vols.
Thus ended our retreat from Pilot Knob to Rolla. Now, we sure got some good
“Linkum” coffee!
Before closing this letter, I will relate what Capt. McMurtry told me of some
things that happened at the grand reception supper tendered Gen. Ewing and his brave
officers by Gen. Sanborn. As speeches were in order, the subject of our great-little battle
and retreat and fight to Leasburg were discussed. After all of the generals, colonels and
captains were through speaking, each one giving his version as to how it was possible
that we, with such a very small force, whipped Price’s 20,000 and then made such a
complete success in our retreat, Capt. Wm. T. Leeper rose and said, “Well, gentlemen,
I’ll tell you what I think about it. I think we done it by main strength and awkwardness!”
Yours truly
H. C. Wilkinson,
Damon, Mo.
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Letter No. 21.
AT ROLLA, MO.
Dear Doctor:-
We are now safely at Rolla, Monday morning, Oct. 3rd, was a very rainy
forenoon, in fact, the rain just poured down, and not a rag of a tent to shelter us! We saw
the interesting sight of the cavalry passing in review, as they wheeled in front of our
quarters. They were bound for Price, then somewhere near Jefferson City. We
afterwards learned that they whipped Price next day, on the Osage River. Capt.
Montgomery’s battery went with them,- all under command of Gen. Sanborn. We found
here, Comrade Jake C. Belmar of Company H. He said he was cut off from the command
at our last fight before we arrived at Leasburg. He had a bullet hole in his hat. Then soon
Comrade E. Hovis, Geo. B. Hammock and Wm. Miller came to us. They were separated
from us by being on duty at Leasburg and were not promptly relieved by the officer in
charge of the pickets, when we marched from Leasburg for Rolla the morning before.
There were yet four men of company H out, who left Pilot Knob with us. On the first
attack on the ridge, J. B. and J. D. Driver “squandered” and bore the first news to my
folks of how Company H came out in the battle at Pilot Knob. Then in our last, Jno. B.
Graham and Joe Wilson, when the boys rushed across the creek in disorder at the mouth
of that hollow at the Huzzah Creek.
Here at Rolla, we forever lost sight of our dear old Adjutant, Dave Murphy. Yes,
the next time we saw him, he wore the Eagles and we were proud to call him “Colonel
Murphy!” We were very sorry to thus lose him, but glad to see him climb up over the
rungs of the Military ladder, from Major and Lieutenant Colonel, to Colonel. He
certainly and justly deserved it. Lieut. Col. Amos W. Maupin also disappeared, and the
next time we saw him, he, too, wore the Eagles and was Colonel Amos W. Maupin, in
command of the 47th Mo. Then here was Quarter-Master Lieut. Jno. W. Fletcher,
appeared to us with the silver leaf of Lieut. Col. of the 47th Mo. Sergt. Maj. Jno. Delano
adjusted the shoulder straps of 2nd Lieut. of Company E, 47th Mo. Then Quarter Master
Sergt. Sam B. Rowe wore the bars of 1st Lieut. and ably took command of Quarter-
Masters’ office of the 47th Mo. Vols. Yes, and the next time Company H looked upon
Col. Thos. C. Fletcher in Benton Barracks, St. Louis, he was Governor of the great state
of Missouri. Then John H. Stumberg first appeared as our regimental Surgeon and J. M.
Youngblood as assistant.
On Tuesday Morning, Oct. 4th, I handed in Company H’s first morning report,
since Monday morning, Sept. 26th. For duty, one Captain, one 2nd Lieut. and 32 men;
Present sick, two privates; Total present, 34 men, aggregate present, 36. comrades Lloyd
and Hildebrand, 1st and 2nd, came to us on the 6th from way up on the Gasconade River.
They passed Leasburg before Adjt. Murphy reached there to stop them. They were of the
dismounted boys. That day we turned over our muskets and drew the Galliger Carbines,
the most worthless gun I saw during the war, then after drawing rations. “pump” tents
and camp equipage generally, we were ordered out on the New Salem Road, five miles
south of Rolla to do outpost and patrol duty south towards Salem. Tuesday night found
us in our new camp of the farm of your English friend, Mitchel.
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In a few days our old Comrade, Jas. P. Ellis, left us to return to his home on
Twelve Mile Creek in Madison Co. and as yet we had not heard a word from our homes
in Iron, Madison and Wayne Counties. Our old Comrade Ellis soon favored us with a
letter as to how things were down there which we will here give:
State of Missouri, Potosi, Oct. 16th, 1864.
Mr. P. L. Powers:
Dear Sir:- I can inform you that I landed safe here the next day after I left
Rolla. I found Lieut. Tate and fifteen of your boys in St. Louis. We all got aboard of the
same train and came down here the same evening. The rest of the boys are lying around
home in the brush, with the exception of A. Bess. He got badly wounded at Hopewell,
but is mending. He is near Hopewell and is well cared for. None of the boys were killed,
so far as we have learned but some few of them were captured and paroled. The Driver
boys are at home. I have never heard from (Joe) Wilson. Lieut. Tate says they were
attacked at Hopewell by at least five hundred men and that they fought them until they
were surrounded on three sides and only abandoned the train after all hopes were lost.
Captain, the rebels have completely striped us of everything we had. Wm. Dennis
was the first man to enter your house and commenced pillaging. They stripped you of
everything both in the house and out of doors. They left L. H. Linville and Jas. S.
McMurtry the same way. In short, every true loyal man who lived on the road is
completely broken up. Tell E. P. (Settle) that they made his father pull the last pair of
socks off his feet. (A prominent Baptist preacher, an old man) Henry and Caleb Hovis
have gone to Illinois. They (the rebels) caught John (Ellis-his brother) and started off
with him, but some of them Secesh d---ls up the creek persuaded them to release him and
they done so, after robbing him of his money, his boots, coat and pants, leaving him
nothing but shirt and drawers. They took everything we had in the world, not leaving
either of us a suit of clothing. They took everything out of the house and all of our horses
but one. Allen McKinnis went off with them, in short, nearly all the sympathizers in the
country left with them. There are some eighty men here belonging to the 47th Regt.
Lieut. Tate and part of the boys are going to the Knob to-morrow and I am going with
them, and as soon as we hear from your folks, we will let you know, in case you are not
on hand yourself. Part of the boys that were with Tate went home and your folks were
well when they left there. You can say to the company that all their friends and relatives
are well so far as I know.
Captain, I have supped my last sup with the rebels. From this time forward, I
intend to treat them all alike and in so doing. I will spare not. Please excuse this badly
written letter for I am writing on the head of a barrel.
I am, your obedient servant,
J. P. Ellis.
As heretofore related, they took the skirts of the women’s dresses and all of their
under wear that they could lay their hands on, to make themselves shirts, so they
mockingly told the women, as they took their clothing. This was what a “raid” was, as
commanded by Gen. Sterling Price. Mrs. Powers asked for a safe guard, of Gen. Price, as
his head quarters were in the old Baptist Church house, less than a quarter of a mile from
her home. The safe (?) guard was promptly furnished, but he paid no attention to the
pillaging and when relieved, he helped himself to such things in the house that he took a
fancy to. Well, such is the fortunes of such a civil (?) war as ours of the sixties was. It is
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indeed astonishing to see how many thieves there are and how very few strictly honest
people there are in the human family, when once the restraining hand of the law is
relaxed and put at defiance by the force of arms. When “Might is right!”
In Comrade Ellis’ letter, he speaks of Lieut. M.P. Tate and a part of the 47th Mo.
who were going to Pilot Knob, which they did, and Lieut. Tate at once turned detective in
general. He by some mysterious “Still small voice” found that when Price entered
Ironton and Arcadia, the pillaging of stores and private dwelling houses began and the
astonishing thing about it was that he found very much of the property stolen in
possession of the citizen sympathizers, far and near. He found a fine lot of new horse
collars and a full set of new blacksmith tools, and other things, 25 miles from Pilot Knob!
As the Lieut. did not then belong to the church, Sergt. E. A. Wilkinson, who was with
him, told me that the Lieut. “cussed a blue streak”, and told the possessor of the articles
found, that unless he delivered the property at the Court House in Ironton by noon next
day, his “old hide wouldn’t hold shucks!” The goods were delivered on time. Such
articles as tea sets, knives and forks, spoons, and all such articles were found and
promptly delivered. It is beyond the limit of charity to now give names of the pilferers,
but in honor of the loyal citizens, I will state that not a single article was found by Lieut.
Tate in their possession. Far or near. The thought among the sympathizers was that Price,
their savior had come and would stay, as he told the people he had returned to Mo. to
hold it. Then with sympathizers, it was “Help yourself”. Price did not hinder them and
the hated Yankees and “lop-eared Dutch” were gone to stay, as they thought, but Lieut.
Tate and his men soon enlightened them to the contrary.
We also learned that old man Aldrich, a harmless old man but loyal to his country
and the flag, who lived a mile and a quarter south of Patterson, in Wayne Co. on the
Greenville and Patterson raid, was taken prisoner when Patterson was taken on Sept. 22nd,
and nine days afterwards, his body was found, hanging by the neck to a small stooping
hickory tree in less that a mile south of his home and about 80 yards west of the
Greenville road. As he did not come in home, the family began search for him, and his
daughter found him as above stated. He was in such a decayed condition that a grave was
dug immediately under him and he was cut down and lowered into it and covered from
sight, where his remains still rest, near the road and marked only by a few flint stones.
The excuse for hanging him was that it was reported to the rebel soldiers that Aldrich had
reported men to the Yankees and had them shot. Old man Aldrich was an out spoken
Union man and two sons in the Union Army.
Company H remained in camp five miles out south, as out-post to Rolla, and
patrolled to Spring Lake, ten miles south towards Salem in Dent county, to watch for
Magruder’s approach. The remainder of the 47th Mo. remained in Rolla to do post duty
under Col. Sigel, a brother of Gen. Franz Sigel. Col. Sigel was very military in his
discipline, rather to the disgust of the free, easy-going 47th boys. News of the utter rout
of Price’s came to us to cheer us, almost every day. To our comfort and joy, we soon
learned that Gen. Marmaduke was made a prisoner by a mere boy of a soldier, then many
other officers and men were being sent back as prisoners of war. We also learned now
that Gen. Price did the astonishing and cowardly act of turning over to Tim Reeves &
Co., the brave and noble Maj. Wilson and his six men, who were captured with him at
Pilot Knob, Sept. 27th, to be shot down in cold blood by the guerrilla, Tim Reeves, not
very far from Union in Franklin Co. Maj. Wilson’s crime was that he had previously
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been making S. E., Mo. rather too interesting for Tim Reeves & Co. As soon as Reeves
found Maj. Wilson and his six boys were among Price’s prisoners, a double guard was
placed around them, which foretold Maj. Wilson what the final result would be, and like
the noble man he was, he pleaded to Price to spare his six boys and let him suffer the
death penalty; but all to no avail. These facts were known to the other prisoners who
gave them to us after their release.
Our stay at Rolla was unattended by anything strikingly interesting. At our post,
we had two false alarms in one of which, John Head, Dave Gowbrey, Bill Watts and Jake
C. Belmar figured as they left for home. The false alarm was of their own making,
purposely. They were restive as to how matters had gone with their homes, and so took
“French furlough” to find how home had fared during the raid. We found them at Pilot
Knob on our return. Col. Sigel had “lots of fun” as he said, in his “sham battle” at Rolla,
one day. He sent Company A and perhaps others, away out to be hid in the brush, while
he led forth the boys to attack them. “Und you use to plank cartridge und open fire on us,
und te poys runs in und haf lots of fun!’ Lieut. Sutton afterwards told me that company
A was not furnished with a single “plank cartridge” and as Col. Sigel sat on his horse on
an eminence under a scrubby oak tree, glass in hand, and, as he thought at a safe distance
from the concealed “deputy” rebels, at the word, “Fire!”, the twigs and leaves just rained
down on the colonel. He at once took the hint and wheeled his horse and put spurs for his
head quarters, leaving his poor frightened “poys” to whip the “deputy” rebels (if they
chose to) and return, or come in, in a general rout, wherein lay the Colonel’s “lots of
fun”. The laugh was at the wrong corner of the mouth for the colonel.
On Oct. 24th, Company H was called in to Rolla to hear the joyful news that we
were to next day march for old Pilot Knob. All was joy, joke and fun, except with the
two poor boys who were then in the Post Hospital. On the morning of the 25th, the
Infantry of the 47th boarded the train for St. Louis, then for Pilot Knob. Capt. Powers
took command of all the mounted men of the 47th, some of Companies A, G and L and
about 25 being of Company H, and marched for Pilot Knob, via St. Louis, or until we
should meet other orders.
We reached Leasburg at night, to find that the commander of the train had failed
to leave our rations, as agreed upon. The good citizens of Leasburg at once supplied our
wants and gave us much information about Shelby and Marmaduke’s conclusion about
attacking us while we were there. They told us that Gen. Shelby’s conclusion was that he
believed we received re-enforcements on the incoming train the night we arrived at
Leasburg, and that if we did and fought as we did at Pilot Knob, it would cost him no less
than 500 men to take the place and that he did not then consider us worth 500 of his men.
The night of the 26th found us at the Moselle Bridge, on the Meramec River, where we
found a large force of workmen rebuilding the burned bridge and a regiment of E.M.M.
in camp a quarter of a mile east as bridge guards. As we attempted to re-cross the river in
the dark, under the guide of our “distint rilative”, to obtain forage for our hungry horses, I
came near being drowned. The Capt. and the boys then went to the E.M.M. camp and I
was kindly cared for by the old Captain in charge of the working force. I regret that I
have forgotten his name. He furnished me with dry clothing as I had been under the
water, out of sight some two or three times. His boys carefully dried my clothing by their
camp fires. He also gave me a bountiful supper and the free use of his – ahem! Private
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gallon jug to wash down my supper and to keep out the cold! And, of course, I was not
then a teetotaler.
Next morning we met orders to turn south to Big River Bridge, which we did, and
sometime during the 27th, about noon, we passed through Richwoods, to find the loyal
citizens riding hither and thither in search of some “bush whackers” who, they said, were
seen to pass near by. We made Old Mines that night and as we had no supplies at all, the
kind people cared for man and horse. Several of the boys got meals at the house of the
priest. Lieut. Settle and some two or three of us feasted at Mr. Settle’s, an old citizen and
cousin of his father. On the 28th, we passed through Potosi in the A. M. and at Big River
Bridge, we found a large party of workmen rebuilding Shelby’s burning. Maj. Jno. W.
Emmerson was in command. Here we were delayed sometime, awaiting further orders to
proceed to Pilot Knob. Orders came at last, and we at once gladly began to obey them.
Night found us at the farm of Mr. Wallen, the father-in-law of Lieut. E. P. Settle. Here
we found good things and welcome for hungry men and horses. “All quiet in camp
Wallen!” So passed the night.
The early morning of the 29th found us in our saddles, determined to eat dinner at
Pilot Knob once more, “or bust!” As, Yes, near noon, we saw old Pilot Knob and
Shephard’s Mountain, just as we had left them the night of the 27th of Sept., all bloody
and echoing the dying groans of the wounded rebels, and reflecting the glare of that
mighty coal of fire over there by the old burned furnace building! How we shouted with
joy at the welcome sight! We actually felt glad that during our month’s absence those
two good old mountains had not fallen down when our magazine went up. Yes, and there
is grand old Fort Davidson, too! Not like it was however, when we marched out of him
in our “funeral procession” the night after our most desperate and successful struggle to
hold him. No, there lay our four big thirty-twos on the ground, and where our magazine
once was, there was a great hole in the ground, sufficiently large to hold a good sized
barn. Our twenty-fours and the mortars were gone, so were Col. Lindsay’s three little
guns also gone. Then as we approached the town of Pilot Knob, we are greeted with the
cheers of our long lost boys of the 47th Mo., there under the command of the brave old
Lieut. M.P. Tate. What a handshaking we then had! O, we were glad to be reunited once
more after our hard struggle for existence. The morning of Oct. 30th, 1864, we handed in
Company H’s morning report as follows:- For duty; One Captain; One 2nd Lieut.; thirty
enlisted men. Then on Oct. 31, 1864, we handed in Company H’s morning report as
follows: For duty; One Captain; One 1st Lieut.; One 2nd Lieut.; Seventy-three enlisted
men; Absent sick, three enlisted men. Aggregate, Seventy-nine.
The accompanying remarks are as follows: Lieut. Tate and 25 enlisted men from
missing in action at Hopewell, Sept.27, 1864, to gained; Sergt. E. A. Wilkinson and three
enlisted men from missing in action at Patterson, Mo. Sept. 22, 1864, to gained; Seven
enlisted men from missing in action on retreat to Rolla Mo., Sept. 27th to Oct. 2nd, 1864,
to gained; Two enlisted men from missing in action while on detached service, to gained;
Three enlisted men from missing in action near Rolla, Mo., to gained; Two enlisted men
from missing in action at Pilot Knob, Mo., Sept. 27th, 1864, to gained: Total, 43 enlisted
men gained.
Three poor fellow were killed at Patterson. Poor Bill Jackson, killed on retreat to
Leasburg. Poor Absalom Bess lying wounded near Hopewell. Yes, we can now sit down
to good clean (?) loaf bread and hard tack and other good things at our old home station,
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and eat without any dread or fear of Price, who had already been driven into Kansas and
through the Indian Nation, on down into Arkansas,- a total failure in accomplishing his
purpose in his raid. His army was a total wreck.
Yours truly,
H. C. Wilkinson
Damon, Mo.