In the border war that raged along the line between Missouri and Kansas, we were frequently called out to defend the State of Kansas against the invading hosts of slave-holders during the years 1859 and 1860. This was the remains and outcome of the John Brown war of 1856-7. It was not so bloody as the latter, but was attended by many hardships and dangers, and was full of excitement.
It was no surprise to me when I heard that Ft. Sumpter had been fired into. I had believed since boyhood that an armed collision would come sooner or later between the free and slave States. With many others I did not think the war would last long. At first I did not feel called on to leave my wife and three little ones to join the army.
Gov. S. J. Crawford raised a company in Garnett in the spring of 1861. My wife's brother, John Johnston, was Orderly-Sergeant of that company. After the battle of Wilson's Creek, where several of this company were wounded, and soon after when our army was alaughtered at Bull Run, I saw the war was to be no child's play.
My wife and I had a long consultation over it one night. I shall never forget that night. She was patriotic as I was, and willing to endure the hardship of separation. Duty seemed hard, but plain. The conclusion was that I should go into the army and she with dear little ones should go home to her father's till this cruel was was over.
I recruited about thirty men and united with Capt. Ed Thornton at Mound City, who had a squad of about forty. We rode our own horses and marched to Ft. Leavenworth where about October 1st we were mustered into service, as Co. H, 7th Kansas Cavalry, Col. Jennison commanding, D. B. Anthony Lieut.-Colonel. We had not quite men enough for a full company, so I was mustered in as a private. In a week or ten days our company was full and I was promoted to First Lieutenant.
That winter we served on the Kansas and Missouri line, and were engaged most of the time in running the colored people out of Missouri into Kansas. We helped hundreds to freedom, with a full supply of provisions to last them through the winter, and sometimes with teams and farm implements to go to work with in the spring. The latter part of the winter we spent in Humboldt, guarding our south line in Kansas against the Indians.
In the spring of '62, after the battle of Shiloh, we were ordered to join the army at Corinth, Miss. We went in boats to Columbus on the Mississippi River, where we landed and opened up the line of the Ohio & Mobile Rail-road to Corinth.
That summer we spent guarding the country, from Memphis to Corinth, Miss., Tuscumbia, Ala., and Florence, Tenn. The battle of Iuka was fought the [blank] day of [blank] 1862. Price and VanDorn were driven back. Rosencrans, who commanded the cavalry division was anxious to learn what the next move of the Confederates would be. He came to Col. Lee of our regiment, and, I suppose partly in compliment, said: "Col. Lee, if I wanted to send a party to Hell to fight the Devil I would come to your regiment to get my men." We were called the Jay Hawkers, and while we had a reputation of being able to live off the enemy, we were also known as a fighting regiment second to none in the army. It was not surprising that Gen. Rosencrans came to our regiment in this emergency.
On the [blank] day of [blank] 1862, Col. Lee sent for me to come to headquarters tent, and then asked if I would like to take a detail of picked men and break through the enemy's lines and capture his dispatches or take prisoners or in any way possible to secure information of his intended movements.
I was eager for the expedition, though I knew it would be attended with great danger and would require courage and skill to be successful. The army under Price and VanDorn was encamped as we supposed on the Mobile and Ohio R.R. between Gun Town and Marietta. Their outer picket line was 25 or 30 miles south of Corinth. The plan was for me to get through this picket line without giving alarm, get the desired information, and return as soon as possible.
That morning Col. Lee gave me a commission as Captain from Gov. Robinson, and assigned me to the command of Company H, or the Black Horse Company. This company had been recruited by Capt. Cleveland, a noted border fighter and highway robber,-- the men of the company many of them of the same character. Cleveland had been killed and the boys had mutinied and run two captains out of the army.
I asked the orderly sergeant to order the company in line, and told them among other things that all I would ask of them would be to follow me. I then told them I wanted twenty men to volunteer to go with me on and expedition that would be hard and perhaps dangerous. I had no difficulty in getting the men I wanted.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, every man armed with saber and revolver with fifty cartridges each, we started, no one but Col. Lee and myself knowing where or what for. We had a guide who was acquainted with the country for 30 or 40 miles; after that we would have to depend on ourselves.
We reached the enemy's picket line about 10 or 11 o'clock. The night was very dark but we soon located one of their posts by the fire they made no efforts to conceal. While my men remained perfectly quiet I took one man and crawled on hands and knees so near that we could hear them talking. We learned that the mounted patrol, that rode from post to post, had just passed. Our way was then clear with nothing to guide us only the stars; and, keeping at least a mile from the picket fire, we started on our perilous undertaking.
Three or four o'clock in the morning found us in a dense forest without any road and under a starless sky. In wandering around we came on a cabin, and anold gray-haired man at the gate, with an old Revolutionary musket in his hand. We inquired the way to Gun Town. At first he refused to give us any information, but the cold muzzle of a revolver on his temple soon bought him to his senses.
He led us by a dim track through a swamp for about three miles. We struck the rail-road about a mile south of Gun Town at sunrise. The country was swarming with gray coats. We corralled them as fast as we could and soon had more than our own number. They were so surprised they made no resistance.
We cut the telegraph wire and destroyed a few rods of the railroad. But we soon learned from our prisoners that this was useless, for the whole rebel army had gone north, and expected to attack Corinth that day. It behooved us to get back as soon as possible, so we discharged all our prisoners that were not mounted, and started back with those who were mounted, with the greatest expedition. We knew the country would be aroused, and every outpost and picket notified of our presence. We were on the lookout, taking byroads whenever we could.
But with all our caution we were surrounded and ambushed as we passed througha piece of woods. The first thing we knew of the enemy the two men in advance were fired on, a spent ball striking one of them on the side of the head. Almost at the same instant, what seemed like a regiment of gray coats rose out of the bushes and poured a volley into us. Two of our men were wounded, two were captured, and the rest miraculously escaped by flight. We did not know whether we would be treated as soldiers or as spies, so we determined not to be captured if we could avoid it.
My horse was shot through the neck -- my noble little Bay Billy. He carried me, bleeding at every jump, to our old camp at Rienza, where I found an old army mule on which I rode into Corinth. We reached there a little before daylight, after having ridden 160 miles in about 36 hours. The stillness of death prevailed in the little town. The first day's battle was over. Thousands lay dead and dying, and yet the issue hung trembling in the balance. We lay down in the open field and got a few hours' much-needed rest.
The next morning I was awakened by the roar of the artillery. We were in range of some of the batteries. The cannon-balls flew over us. I turned over and went to sleep again. The demand of exhausted nature could not be ignored. But by ten o'clock I had a new mount, and, with all my brave boys that were able, was in line waiting for the order to charge. This standing under fire, waiting for the time to strike, is the severest test of courage a soldier ever has to endure.
By noon the battle was over and the enemy on the retreat. With a battalion of cavalry I was ordered to watch the left flank of the retreat. That entire day and the next night until midnight we were in the saddle picking up stragglers and harassing the enemy in their retreat.
At Ripley, Miss. the pursuit ended. I had lain down on the stone sidewalk with my bride-rein on my arm, for a few moments' rest, when the orderly from Gen. McPherson, who was in command of the advance, came with the order: “Captain will take his squadron and picket the road in advance.” It was like a death-knell but must be obeyed. We mounted our weary horses once more and moved out about two miles.
I knew nothing of the country, and had no guide or orders only to picket that road. The responsibility thrown on me was more than I liked to accept in our exhausted state. About two miles out we crossed a little stream and on the rising ground beyond I determined to take our position. But before we reached the point the hail came: “Who goes there?” We quickly moved to the side of the road and then called “Who are you?” “Forrest's Cavalry,” was the answer, “and who are you?” We answered: “Kansas Jay Hawkers.” This was a renewal of old acquaintance. Many a skirmish and chase we two forces had had in the last year. Scarcely had our answer reached them, when a volley of minie-balls whistled down the road past us. It was no time to rouse the two armies, and besides we were in no humor for fighting, so we retraced our steps back across the stream, dismounted, and lay down in a fence corner.
At daybreak the next morning I determined to capture the enemy's post that had challenged us the night before. Leaving our horses with “Number Fours,” I divided our little squad and before they knew it we had them surrounded and our revolvers levelled on them. They surrendered willingly I believe. With about 40 prisoners,- double our number - we took a rebel flag and several brass instruments. We uncapped their rifles and gave them back to carry, and marched them all into the town and turned them over to the guards. We were soon after relieved and rested until noon.
I was then ordered to “Take a force of infantry and cavalry and follow the enemy.” This was all the orders or directions given me. I had to guess at the object. The road was full of the usual debris of a retreating army,- guns, broken wagons, disabled mules and horses, straggling deserters, wounded soldiers, etc.
After going about ten miles, and finding none of the escaping escaping army of rebels, we returned to Riply and found it deserted; our army had gone back to Corinth. After a hard night's ride we reached our camp the next morning and there rested after five days of the most strenuous hardship of my life. As a little reward for my service I was sent home on recruiting service, and spent the winter of '62-3 in Leavenworth.
In the spring I returned and joined my regiment at [blank]. We spent that spring and summer in guarding the country between Memphis and Corinth. We had numerous engagements with Forrest's and Rodney's men. On one raid we captured Rodney's big roan, which I road for several weeks. In July I was commissioned Lieut.-Colonel, jumping our Major and several senior Captains.
Three engagements that summer are entitled to special mention; viz., Tupelo, Miss., Florence, Tenn., and Tuscumbia, or Straight Creek, Ala. In the last we charged a rebel battery and Capt. Utt of Co. A lost a leg. At Tupelo I had such an experience as I never had since or before. I was absent in charge of contraband goods, when we were unexpectedly attacked. I galloped to the scene of the engagement and found my gallant Co. H in a panic. With my drawn revolver I succeeded in checking their flight, restoring order, and holding the enemy in check till Col. Carny with the 18th Mo. came to our aid.
In the fall I was taken down with the swamp fever and diarrhea. My wife came with our two little ones, nursed me, and under God saved my life. On the evacuation of that post I was ordered north, and went with my family to my wife's father's,- to the peace and quiet of the delightful Cove Valley. There among the mountains with the kindest of friends I was nursed. But the diarrhea became chronic. I was ordered to the hospital at Cincinnati Ohio. The doctors thought it would not be safe for me to join my regiment yet, so I, tired of hospital life, wrote and tendered my resignation. This was accepted, and I was ordered to Ft. Leavenworth and mustered out March 1864.