Letter No. 7.
Dear Doctor:
In our last letter we saw organization well under way and so we pass on to
something else. We are endeavoring to draw real life pictures, just as they occurred, as
we saw them and remember them. This is our apology to those who may complain that
we are tedious. We try to write as we would talk.
After the detachments of the 6th Mo. Vols. had left Coldwater, we felt rather
lonesome, as the Rebs began to grow pretty bold, and bolder still. At length that awful
21st of July, 1861, came and it was in tears and deep gloom we read of our defeat at
Manassas Junction in Va. Oh, but it was bitter. Our men were defeated. We now speak
of it as it then appeared to us. We now wonder that some cartoonist didn’t rise up and
show “Uncle Samuel” just waking up after a morning’s nap, in which he had rather
greatly overslept himself, and as he rubbed his eyes open and scratched his head, and as
he got his eyes wide open look out over Manassas and say: “Gol darn it Abe, you’ll have
to pull off your coat an’ gin ‘em a good thrashin. So ye’d better be at it er got licked
yerself.” Well, it was an “awakenen” and an “eye opener” for sure. The two St. Louis
papers then mostly read in Wayne Co. were the “St. Louis Evening News” and the
“Missouri Republican.” The “Evening News” was a staunch Union paper, but the
“Missouri Republican” had it between the lines and in the lines that it was as rank a
Sesessionist paper as it then dare be. It was full of glory all over and throughout for the
defeat of the Union army at Manassas Junction in Va. That was a twenty years old boy’s
view and opinion of the “Missouri Republican” at that time. Twice twenty years more,
we fear, have wrought no changes in his opinion.
Now we hear the bass drum in Lowe’s camp at Patterson, where he camped
probably a day or two on his way up from the earth works south of Bloomfield in
Stoddard Co. A regiment of Arkansas cavalry was with Lowe, armed with Hall’s rifles.
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They were breech loaders for cap and ball. They used powder flasks and bullet flasks.
The chamber tipped up and the powder poured out of the flask into the chamber. Then
the ball was dropped in on top of the powder from the bullet flask. Then capped with
common musket caps. They also had bayonets. This regiment was commanded by Col.
Bowlin. Lowe’s men-well, we refrain! We only say that every fellow furnished his own
gun and ammunition wherever he might find it. We kept ours “hid out.”
Soon these two regiments moved toward Ironton as far as Brunot, about 8 miles
farther north. Then the “Feds” sent some one or more regiments, including the 6th Mo.
Vols., down to what was then known as “The Polk Place,” on the Ironton road, about 12
miles south of Ironton perhaps. So they were just spoiling for a fight, but didn’t get it as
Lowe and Bowlin soon turned off to the right for Fredericktown in Madison Co. While
at Brunot they held Horace T. Bailey a prisoner as he was, and ever, a strong Union man,
then living at Brunot. Wiley Hinkle, another Union man living near by, was brought in
and held a prisoner also. His awful crime was his patriotism and loyalty to the Union.
Other Union men near by “refuged” to Cedar Creek, and all started for Ironton, but as it
was dark we went to an empty cabin, rather in the woods, and slept off our scare, all save
Jno. A. McKinnis, who went on to Ironton.
Lowe and Bowlin made the trip to Fredericktown and then fell back to the
Belcher farm on Cedar Creek. We took the hills on them and watched their maneuvers
almost a whole day. Lowe’s men built brush tents. The next morning after they arrived
at Cedar Creek they sent down the creek a detachment and broke open the store of Jas. S.
McMurtry and his brother A. G., and took the goods up to their camp, and, of course,
confiscated them to their own use. One man, who had formerly worked in the blacksmith
and wagon shop for P. L. Powers, took a hand hammer and broke Powers’ large new
grind stone. He was a patriotic (?) fellow. His name was Farmer. Along about then an
ugly black cloud began to rise in the direction of Fredericktown, and Lowe and Bowlin
fell back to the farm of Judge W. F. Short, about 5 miles south of Cold Water. We
visited the deserted camp at the Belcher farm next day after the Rebs had gone, and it is
no use to try to tell what we all saw there. One thing we feel pretty safe in relating is that
we saw as many deserted home made knives, made of old files, and almost everything
small of steel, as a comman man could shoulder with hard lifting. They were of all kinds
of savage shapes and about 15 inches long. They first claimed that they would shoot the
“Yanks,” then throw down their guns for the fellows behind who had no guns and draw
these savage knives and just walk in. We never afterwards heard of them walking in that
way. Bullet moulds of all sizes and descriptions were there. We saw one pair of these
bullet moulds fashioned to mould the hollow ended “Minnie” balls. As we saw no patent
marks on these moulds we supposed maybe the maker had rather infringed on old man
Minnie’s patent. Beef bones and pork bones were also plenty on every hand. They ate
beef, pork and corn bread, and drew their supplies not from Pilot Knob. Their
commissary was as large as the four points of the compass.
Gen. Hardee then lay at Greenville and in one of the scares in Lowe’s camp
Hardee took a reinforcement and one gun to Lowe’s camp on the W. F. Short farm.
While encamped here on this W. F. Short farm the very first blood of a Union soldier was
spilled that was spilled in Wayne Co. We are so very sorry that we have forgotten his
name. He had a brother, a doctor and perhaps a surgeon, in the Union army at Ironton
then. We heard father relate afterwards that he saw and talked with this doctor and told
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him all he knew of this brother’s death. This man was detected in Lowe’s and Bowlin’s
camp and arrested as a Union spy, which no doubt was true. The officers took him aside
to the “sweat box,” as the lawyers say, but he only said: “Gentlemen, I will die before I
will tell.” He then made a dive for liberty, attempting to snatch an officer’s sword as he
dashed by, but failed, and, as the poor fellow was going over the fence a wicked pistol
ball struck him in the left loin bone, but only blued the skin in his left groin, not passing
through. He got away, however, but in a few days he was heard hallooing at the home of
James Wilmore, some three and a half miles north of the Rebel camp. It was before good
daylight. Wilmore found him lying in the branch, where he was trying to keep down
gangrene, but unsuccessfully. Wilmore took him to his house, and for safety he put him
on a bed up stairs. He was dying and gave all of his pocket belongings to Wilmore for
his people. Wilmore, it was soon found, incurred some risk in caring for him, but
Wilmore was a man of iron with steel nerves. After he was dead a gang of Reb’s rode up
and told Wilmore that if they had found him alive they would have shot him. The poor
fellow soon died and was buried in the grave yard on the Belcher farm. Some years back
this man’s brother, the doctor, had Brant Wilmore to show him the grave, which he
kindly did, and the citizens turned out and gave their assistance in exhuming his remains.
Young Wilmore told the doctor how he would find everything, as he had assisted in
caring for and burying him. The bullet hole in the left loin bone was found, as Young
Wilmore had stated, and if our memory is correct they found the bullet also. His brother
took his remains home for burial.
While Hardee was at Greenville, not far from the time this Union spy was shot,
some of his men went on Lost Creek and attacked the Union men in the field while they
were thrashing wheat, and several shots were passed and one or two Union men were
wounded, and perhaps some of Hardee’s men also. This was the very first blood drawn
from a Union man resident of Wayne Co. by the Rebels, because he was a Union man. It
was then thought for a short time that there would be a clash of arms between Hardee and
the Federal forces then at Ironton, but soon Hardee disappeared, but Lowe and Bowlin
lingered near by for some time, camping at different places, among which was David
Bollinger’s steam mill. Then they fell back to the lower country and Wayne had a space
of rest, or comparatively so, but no so elsewhere in Missouri. Early in July the boys had
been out to Carthage “Fighting mit Sigel.” A little over a month hence we mourned the
loss of our noble brave General, Nathaniel Lyon, at Wilson’s Creek, Mo. Still a month
later we remember that day that P. L. Powers came to us in the tobacco field and brought
us the paper that told of the unavoidable surrender of the brave Colonel James A.
Mulligan at Lexington, MO. The writer well remembers the story as told in the “St.
Louis Evening News.” We all sat on the ground as father read aloud the sad story, and
how that father completely broke down as he read, and how the tears pursued each other
down those old iron cheeks. We all wept with him as he read. How we did blame the
commander at St. Louis for not reinforcing Col. Mulligan and his four brave regiments as
they battled Sept. 13th and 17th to the 20th, and when completely exhausted, and
overpowered by Gen. Sterling Prices’s 25,000 men and 15 or 16 guns they had to
surrender. Such heroic efforts against such fearful odds, and that for three bloody days
are not often heard of as that of Col. Mulligan and his little handful of men. Well,
without any prejudice or any ill feeling whatever as we turn to look back through history,
we say that it now looks like Gen. Sterling Price, as a commanding general, could get
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more worstings, rendered him by such little bands as Col. Mulligan’s, and at the same
time have at hand such overwhelming forces of men and guns, than any other General
north or south. We are sure of one thing, though, that Gen. Price as a retreater was
excelled by no other General in that war of four long years. No one ever dare say though
that Gen. Price was cowardly, but luck was not often his. His men seemed to have entire
confidence in him as a commanding general, and they surely dearly loved him. “Old
Pap” Price was their idol.
About the time of the fall of Lexington, Mo., P. L. Powers, Wm. T. Leeper, John
M. Wilkinson and Edward P. Settle had begun to comtemplate the organization of a
company of State Vols. called out by the Government. We think it was the Provisional
Governor, Gamble, who made the call. These State Vols. were intended to assist the
Federal Government in clearing out the Rebel forces and holding Missouri, or at least
hold what had been possessed and gained. They were to act with the Federal Govt. in
this work, and were to be wholly made up of volunteers. While Missouri had already
given a large number of volunteers to the Union cause, considering her strong secession
element, there were many thousands of solid Union men yet at their homes. Now it
appears to the writer from what he then saw and observed that these Union men realized
that there was no need to seek a foreign market for fighting when they then had plenty of
that article, and to spare, right here in the home market. So this new call for volunteers to
serve the Union in Missouri only answered the purpose admirably to enlist these Union
men to serve at and near their own homes. This call was for six months only, which was
soon found to be a mistake.
By the last of September, 1861, the above named men had enlisted a company of
the Mo. State Vols. We never knew just what the correct title of this troop was. This
company had Pinkney L. Powers for captain, John M. Wilkinson for 1st Lieut. And
Edward P. Settle for 2nd Lieut. We think there was some injustice done Wm. T. Leeper in
not giving him a commission in this company, as he had brought quite a little following
of volunteers with him from the west end of Wayne Co.; then, besides, Leeper had all
along been an active worker for the cause of the Union, as already seen. We mention this
here because we think it is due him.
This company rendezvoused at Ironton just previous to the battle fought near
Fredericktown in Madison Co. We regret that we cannot now give the names of all of the
members of this company as there was no roll of them preserved by the company
officers. We will give their names as well as we now remember them, although we may
make a few mistakes, on or two perhaps: Jas. H. Barker, C. A. Bennett, Allen Ballard,
Calvin Butts, Abraham Bess, Drury M. Carter, Bart Carter, Lish Carter, James Cole,
Jacob Costner, Wm. Epley, Ben Finger, John B. Graham, Harmon (old Man) Crockett
Linville, Wm. T. Leeper, Fred Lowrance, Dr. Sylvester Miller, ------ Mador (old man),
David Manning Sr., David Manning Jr., John A. McKinnis, William Morris, Isaac B.
Paullus, Peter Price, Sidney Peterson, Zack Picker, Benjamin Picker, Warren Roberts,
William Reese, John Rickmar (or Rickman), Malchi Rhodes, John L. Stepp, Joe Short,
Frederick L. Sherry, Russell K. Sweazea, Jas. R. Sullivan, Edward A. Wilkinson,
fortyone men, rank and file. There are some of these men who the writer remembers, but
cannot call to mind their names, as he was with them in camp only one day and night.
These names we have retained in memory only, but there is one thing sure about every
one of them, and that is, they were reliable Union men. They were armed with the short
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Enfield rifle, 58 calibre, with sabor—bayonet. They were an excellent arm. They had
previously been drilled in the Home Guard to some extent, so they could the “right dress”
at least.
Gen’l M. Jeff Thompson, with Lowe’s and Bowlin’s regiments, and perhaps two
guns, and with other troops, but we don’t now remember the number, had, about the time
that Capt. Posers’ company had drawn their arms, passed up by way of Marble Hill and
on to Fredericktown, and perhaps farther north, so before Capt. Powers’ boys had put on
their uniform dress they were called out to march to Fredericktown to salute Gen.
Thompson. That the Federal troops whom they accompanied would not mistake them for
Rebs and open fire on them, they tied a strip of white cloth to their left arms, and soon the
Federal soldiers dubbed them “The Rag Boys.” This name they wore until they were
approaching Fredericktown, when the command was halted to rest and for consultation.
A staff officer inquired for Capt. Powers, and his men pointed him out as he sat on his
horse under a black haw tree, eating the then ripe fruit. Then the name of “The Rag
Boys” was dropped and they then took the name of “Haw Eaters,” which name they were
ever after proud to wear. A part of these “Haw Eaters” were ordered back to Ironton, but
Capt. Powers and a part of his men were retained with the command, as they were well
acquainted with Fredericktown and its surroundings. This town is beautifully situated in
a rolling upland country, comparatively level.
As the Federal forces approached Fredericktown they were met by Col. Ross with
an Illinois Regt. of Inft., and probably two Ill. Regts. of Inft. The forces last named were
direct from Cape Girardeau. The forces from Ironton consisted of the 1st Ind. Cav. And
one or two Inft. Regts. of Illinois men, one of which was probably the 21st Ill. Vols. Inft.
When they came together at Fredericktown they found not the “mouse, Jeff Thompson,
between these two little bands of “Uncle Samuel.” No, he had skedaddled to the south,
but it was soon learned that he was not far off. There being no general to command these
Federal forces, there was a short hitch before the oldest commission could be found. Col.
Ross held it, and so assumed command of the whole Federal forces. Col. A.P. Hovey
commanded the 1st Ind. Cal. So now the march southward began, and they found the
Rebs about one mile south. We learned from the Rebel boys that, as they left
Fredericktown, they began to curse and swear at not being permitted to whip the “D—n
lop-eared Detch.” This they kept up until they reached the head waters of Twelve Mile
Creek, some seven miles south of Fredericktown. Lowe’s men were very loud in their
denunciations of Gen. Thompson for not fighting. Thompson then ordered a halt and told
them they should have fight to their fill, so he left his beef cattle-walking commissaryand
wagon train behind and marched his men back toward Fredericktown. He advanced
Col. Lowe to a drain, or branch, running west and at right angle to the road, a mile south
of town, to soon be traveled by the “Detch.” This position was most admirable indeedfor
Col. Lowe’s sure defeat-as there was a field sloping to the south behind Col. Lowe
and his men. (Gen. Thompson was mad at them.) So, as it is seen, Col. Lowe had no
support behind him that could reach him without fearful slaughter from the Federal lines
sure to advance down the low hill in front of his position. But they had already spoiled
for a fight. Soon Col. Ross came in sight, and one of the “Haw Eaters” told us that when
the enemy was discovered in force, on the hill front of him, and back of Lowe, Col. Ross
said: “Ah, here they are, boys, Well, we’ll go at it.” Soon the force was thrown on
either side of the road and the Federals began to deploy into line of battle. Then the guns
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of Thompson opened fire from the hill south of Col. Lowe, and the boys in blue fell to the
ground and then the true “Southern yell” set in. They said they thought that discharge
had cut down the whole Federal line, but their dead men all came to life in a twinkle.
The Rebel shots cut the tops out of some trees that stood on a hill east of the road, and
were 25 or 30 feet too high. These trees were still standing when last seen by the writer.
Then it was that three of the “Haw Eaters” advanced themselves forward to a hay stack,
or perhaps a straw stack, out in the open field, and with their Enfields opened fire on
Gen’l Thompson’s battery. They troubled Gen’l Thompson’s artillery men so that they
could fire no effective shots at all. These men’s names, then acting independently of
general orders, are as follows: Allen Ballard of near Brunot, Wayne Co., James Cole of
near Cold Water, Wayne Co., and Sid Peterson of near Gravelton in the northeast corner
of Wayne Co. (Peterson lived over in Madison Co.) Soon the firing became general and
the Federal guns soon had Thompson’s battery all to smash. One gun, the boys told us,
had been struck in the muzzle and split. Lowe’s men fired their “battery” of shot guns
and hunting rifles, and soon Col. Lowe fell pierced in the head by a 58 calibre Minnie,
and he fell dead. Lowe’s men at once fled up the sloping hill through the corn field,
passing the El Spivy home, and they dropped in a hurry in killed and wounded as they
ran. The Federals had a fair sweep at them at they ran up the hill. Capt. Powers and
several of his men told the writer that that hillside field was well spotted with the dead
and wounded, reaching to probably a hundred men or more. We have forgotten the
number of dead and wounded that Cap. Powers said he counted. Both side tell of one
large portly man who was killed as he was crossing the fence, and he was shot so dead
that he remained on top of the fence. The “Haw Eaters” laughingly said: “That fellow is
yet on the fence. That is the way we spoke of the “Neutral gender” man early in the
outbreak- “He is on the fense.” As the Rebs fled the 1st Ind. Cav. Charged them in
column by fours, and the advance suffered pretty badly. They lost Maj. Gavitt and Capt.
Hineman (or Hindman) and some one or two more. One man lost an arm in that charge.
They recoiled when their brave Major fell to rise no more.
Had the Federals pressed the pursuit, which they did not do exceeding only a
short distance, they would have completed Gen. Thompson’s ruin, as they did not retreat
but they just ran in a rout. The Federals had not the cavalry force to prosecute a vigorous
pursuit at that time.
That same night, near midnight, the writer had arisen and “Went to the dogs.”
They had treed a coon, we thought, but, making a “water haul,” he was hurrying back to
finish his well begun sleep, and soon his attention was attracted by the “Hurry!, hurry!
hurry! of cattle drovers, and a countless number of cow bells tinkling. At once the truth
flashed across his mind that “Gen. Jeff Thompson had got licked.” These cattle were
Gen. Thompson’s “walking commissary,” and soon the boom and rattle of very many
wagons came floating in the midnight air. That proved to be Gen. Thompson’s fleeing
wagon train. They were first heard some two miles to the north, coming down the
Hammock hill, but soon we heard them pass down Cedar Creek, a mile west of us. At
daylight the writer and his brother hastened down to the Belcher farm, but only in time to
see the ragged end of Gen. Thompson’s fleeing men. They hardly halted till they reached
their earth works at and south of Bloomfield. Gen. Thompson, being much fatigued, and
his horse more so, stopped at Mr. Belcher’s to take a little rest, and his horse was so
weary that he sank down on the ground by the door of the Belcher residence. However,
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Gen. Thompson arose and pushed on before daylight, and early next morning one of Mr.
Belcher’s sons discovered one of Gen. Thompson’s holster pistols, a Colt’s Navy caliber
36. It was all steel bound and had this inscription on the curve of the handle: “Gen. M.
Jeff Thompson. From a few Memphis Patriots.” Gen. Thompson never more saw that
revolver, but soon after one certain Lieut. John M. Wilkinson did see it. He finally sold it
to some Federal officer at Ironton, and gave the Belcher boy the money, $25.00. Lowe’s
men found that Gen. Thompson was a man of his word that time. The three “Haw
Eaters” were not cashiered for their bold dash forward to the advanced straw stack
without waiting for orders. If they were ever court marshaled for their bold act they were
not so informer. Gen. Thompson kept going on over his earth works-the “Niggah Wool
Swamps,” till he rallied at New Madrid.
Soon after the battle of Fredericktown in Madison Co., Mo., the “Haw Eaters”, at
their own suggestion, moved down to a church school built of hewn logs, and the cracks
were chinked with timbers and then filled or “painted” with lime. They cut loop holes in
case of a fight. They were now about 25 miles south of their base of supplies, which was
Ironton. They quartered in this building, answering the double purpose of scout duty and
an outpost to Ironton. Now they were a company, battalion, regiment, brigade, division
or a whole army corps, as one might choose to term them. They never saw their regiment
and so had no letter for their company. They then took the more correct name of “Wayne
County Cavalry.” They acted independently as their officers, whoever was present, was
the commander of the post. Very many prisoners, Rebels and straggling Rebel soldiers
were picked up by them and turned over to Ironton. Here it was that they passed through
the measles, with the final loss of only one man from measles. And right here we pause
and hold up our hands, begging pardon. We had forgotten one John Breitenstein (or
perhaps Brightenstein). His camp name was “Hecker.: He had a long scar on his
abdomen made while fighting under Col. Hecker in Germany. He was a soldier to the
bottom and could make any goose or gander “take de ote,” or take their heads off with his
sabre. Almost invariably their heads came off. He was “not long up, but he vas dig
oudt.” Game getting rather scarce west of Brunot they moved, as soon as the measles
passed through them, to and established “Camp Cole: on the Head farm east about 3
miles of their old post. Now they were just west of the St. Francis River, and in easier
reach of the Castor River country. Here they build breast works with fence rail wall,
filled with stones. On one of their Castor scouts under Capt. Powers and Lieut. Settle
they lost by capture Sid Peterson and John Rickmus and, perhaps, one or two more. This
was caused by Capt. Powers imprudently scattering his men. The writer was at Camp
Cole when they returned and Lieut. Wilkinson was so angry at Capt. Powers for his
venture that he swore like a trooper. These boys were taken to New Madrid and held
prisoners for quite a while, when at length young Peterson personally applied to Gen.
Thompson for paroles, which were granted and they returned loaded with other company,
the “regulation (?) army gray-backs.”
The company was recalled to “Log Town,” about 2 miles south of Arcadia, some
time before Christmas, and they were ever after engaged in “scoutin’ down below” in
company with the “Indiana Hoosiers,” as they called the 1st Ind. Cav. Many were the
straggling Rebs that they picked up on these scouts. They were discharged in the latter
part of the winter 1861-61, but had rendered very valuable aid to the Federal forces at
Ironton as an outpost, and for scout duty and for guides. They were thus discharged to
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make room for a better and more permanent organization known as the “Mo. State Militia
Vols.” to serve three years or during the war. Of this branch of the U. S.. military service
we may have several occasions to speak—of their bravery and loyalty to the Union and
their usefulness in the field.
While closing this letter we will record one incident that happened to a scout of
this new M.S.M., as related to the writer by one John Braime, a staunch Union man, now
living in Carter county. He got the story from the Reb, the hero of the incident. The
story is this: “Johnny Reb” had come home on furlough of one kind or another, maybe a
“French furlough,” that is, make it yourself. This “Johnny Reb” thought that away over
there he was safe, and so went in home and stripped for a good night’s rest on a “goose
hair” bed. He was having a fine rest, but about midnight here came the “Yanks” and
surrounded his house, ordering him to come out. His pants were under his pillow and he
snatched then up and made a successful dive for the bush, pants in hand. He said it was
“bang, bang, bang, and the bullets flying all around him till he got well into the bush.
Then he concluded to put on his pants, but behold! He held one corner of his pillow in
his hand. It wouldn’t put on worth a cent, he said. His pants were still at the house on
the bed. The boys were shooting at the white pillow.
Yours truly,
H. C. Wilkinson, Damon, Mo.