The Project Gutenberg eBook, A History of Southern Missouri and Northern Arkansas, by William Monks

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

COLONEL MONKS AND WIFE.

A HISTORY
of
Southern Missouri and Northern Arkansas
Being an Account of the Early Settlements, the Civil War, the Ku-Klux, and Times of Peace.

By William Monks
West Plains, Mo.

West Plains Journal Co.
West Plains, Mo.
1907

Copyright 1907
by
William Monks

CONTENTS

• [Introduction.]
• [EARLY SETTLEMENTS.]
• [MISSOURI AND THE CIVIL WAR.]
• [REMINISCENCES.]
• [THE KUKLUX]
• [TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES]

[Introduction.]

Now the author was born in the state of Alabama, in Jackson county, on the north side of the Tennessee River, near Huntsville. He was the son of James Monks and Nancy Monks. The father of James Monks came over from Ireland during the Revolutionary War and served in that war until the independence of the United States was acknowledged. Afterwards he married a lady of English descent and settled down in the State of South Carolina. His father died when he was but an infant. His mother removed to the state of Tennessee, being left with five children, James being the youngest. Growing up to manhood in that state, he removed to the north part of the state of Alabama and there married Nancy Graham, who was a daughter of Jesse Graham. They were originally from the state of Virginia.

James Monks enlisted in the United States Army and served in the Indian war that was known as the Seminole war, in the state of Florida. After his term of service had expired he returned home and sold his farm and had a flatboat built and placed in the Tennessee River near Gunters Landing, with the intention of moving to the state of Florida. Taking his brother-in-law, a Mr. Phillips, on the boat with him, they went down the river by Decatur, were piloted through the Mussell Shoals, and at the foot of the shoals at what is known as Tuscumbia, the writer remembers seeing a part of the Cherokee Indians that were being removed from the state of Alabama to their present location. The writer can remember seeing the Cherokee Indians before they were removed from the state of Alabama.

On reaching Southern Illinois, eight miles from Paducah, my father landed his boat and looked over the country and came to the conclusion that that country was good enough, and located in what was then Pope County. Afterwards they cropped a piece off of Pope and a piece off of Johnson, and created a new county and named it Massack, after the old government fort, and located the county seat, named Metropolis. My father resided nine years in that state, then sold out and started to move to the state of Texas. On arriving in Fulton county, Arkansas, he concluded to locate in that county.

Soon after his arrival, in the latter part of June or July, 1844, the writer was employed to carry the United States mail from Salem, the county seat of Fulton County, to Rockbridge, then the county seat of Ozark county, Missouri. My father and mother taught me to be loyal to my government from my earliest remembrance, and I don't think that two persons more honest than they ever lived. They taught me from my earliest recollection to be honest and upright, and I have tried, and believe I have lived up to their teaching to the very letter; and no man or woman before the war, during the war, nor since the war, can say anything else and tell the truth. Religiously, my father and mother were Baptists, and I believe that they were Christians.

[EARLY SETTLEMENTS.]

In the year 1844 father sold out and in May started to move to the state of Texas; crossed the Mississippi river at Green's old ferry, came by the way of Jackson, Missouri, and traveled the old military road made by the government troops in removing the Cherokee Indians from the state of Alabama to their present location—only road leading west—and in July of the same year (learning that it was very dangerous for a man to take his family into the state of Texas on account of the Indians), he concluded to locate in Fulton county, Arkansas, purchased an improvement and located on what is known as Bennett's river, about 25 miles from where West Plains is now located. The family at that time consisted of six persons, to-wit: father, mother and four sons, the author then being in his fifteenth year; father, being a farmer by occupation, went to work on the farm. The country at that time was very sparsely settled. The settlements were confined to the creeks and rivers, where were found plenty of water and springs. No place at that time was thought worth settling unless it had a spring upon it. The vegetation was luxuriant, the broom sedge and blue stem growing as high as a man's head—and he upon an ordinary horse. The table lands, which were thought at that time to be worthless, had very little timber growing on them, but were not prairie. There were what were known as post oak runners and other brush growing on the table lands, but the grass turf was very heavy and in the spring of the year the grass would soon cover the sprouts and the stranger would have taken all of the table lands, except where it was interspersed with groves, to have been prairie. The country settled up—some of the settlements being 15 miles apart—yet the early settlers thought nothing of neighboring and assisting each other as neighbors for the distance of 15 miles. At that time Fulton county contained all of the present territory that now includes Baxter, Fulton and a part of Sharp counties; and but a short time previous to the organization of Fulton, all of the territory that now embraces Fulton, Baxter and Sharp; Izard belonged to Independence county and Batesville was the county seat. My father located about five miles from the state line.

Ozark county, in Missouri, joined Fulton county on the state line and all of the territory that now comprises Ozark, Douglas and the west half of Howell, belonged to Ozark county and Rockbridge, its county seat, being located on Bryan's Fork of the North Fork, about 50 miles from the state line. Oregon county contained all the territory that now comprises Oregon, Shannon, and the east end of Howell; and a short time previous all of the territory that now comprises Ripley, Oregon, Carter and Shannon belonged to Ripley county; and all of the territory that now comprises Texas, Dent, Wright and Crawford counties belonged to Crawford county. The country at that time abounded in millions of deer, turkeys, bears, wolves and small animals. I remember as my father was moving west and after he had crossed White Water near what was known as Bullinger's old mill, that we could see the deer feeding on the hills in great herds like cattle, and wild turkeys were in abundance. Wild meat was so plentiful that the settlers chiefly subsisted upon the flesh of wild animals until they could grow some tame stock, such as hogs and cattle. This country then was almost a "land of honey." Bees abounded in great number and men hunted them for the profit they derived from the beeswax. There was no such thing known as a bee moth.

Honeydew fell in such quantities as to completely kill the tops of the grass where it was open. I have known young turkeys, after they were large enough for use, to have their wings so gummed with honeydew that they could not fly out of the way of a dog—have known lots of them to be caught with dogs when they wanted to use them. There was no question in regard to there being honey when you cut a bee tree, if the hollow and space in the tree were sufficient and the bees had had time to fill it. I have known bee trees being cut that had 8 and 10 feet of solid comb that was candied and grained. When my father first located, beeswax, peltry and fur skins almost constituted the currency of the country. I remember that a short time after my father located, a gentleman came to my father's house and wanted to buy a horse and offered to pay him in beeswax and peltry, and as I had been accustomed to paper currency in the state of Illinois, I asked my father what kind of money peltry was. He laughed and remarked, "Well son, it is not money at all; it is deer skins." A man thought nothing of buying a horse or a yoke of oxen, or to make any other common debt on the promise of discharging the same in beeswax and peltry in one month's time.

The immigration consisted mostly of farmers and mechanics. Among the mechanics were coopers who would make large hogsheads for the purpose of holding the honey after it was separated from the beeswax, and a man then had his choice to use either candied honey or fresh honey. I knew whole hogsheads that were full of candied honey. When men would make a contract to deliver any amount or number of pounds of beeswax, and within a given time, especially in the fall of the year, they would either take a yoke of cattle or two horses and a wagon and with their guns and camp equipage go out from the settlements into what was then termed the "wilderness," and burn bee comb. In a short time the bees would be working so strong to the bait that they could scarcely course them. In the morning they would hunt deer, take off pelts until the deer would lie down, then they would hunt bees and mark the trees until the deer would get up to feed in the afternoon, when they would again resume their hunt for deer. After they had found a sufficient number of bee trees and marked them, the morning following they would go out and kill nothing but large deer; case-skin them until they had a sufficient number of hides to contain the honey that they expected to take from the trees, take the hides to the camp, tie a knot in the fore legs of the hide, take dressed buckskin and a big awl, roll the hide of the neck in about three folds, run two rows of stitches, draw it tight, then go to their wagons with ridgepole and hooks already prepared, knot the hind legs of the skins, hang them over the hooks, take their tub, a knife and spoon, proceed to the trees, stop their team a sufficient distance from the tree to prevent the bees from stinging the animals, cut the tree, take out the honey, place it in the tub, and when the tub was filled carry it to the wagon where the hides were prepared, empty their tubs into the deer skins, return again to another tree and continue cutting until the hides were all filled with honey; then they would return home, take the hides from the hooks on the ridge pole on the wagon, hang them on hooks prepared for the purpose in the smokehouse and then the men's work was done.

The labor of the women then commenced. They would proceed to separate the honey from the beeswax, pouring the honey into hogsheads, kegs or barrels prepared for it, and running the beeswax into cakes ready for the market, while the men were stretching and drying the deerskins. As soon as the deerskins were dried and the honey was separated from the beeswax, they were ready for the market and took their place as currency, while the flesh of the deer, sometimes, when bread was scarce, took the place of both bread and meat, with a change, whenever the appetite called for it, to turkey and other wild game.

At night they would hunt for fur animals, such as raccoon, fox and mink, and stretch their hides; a first-class raccoon hide would sell for 40 to 50 cents; fox, 25 and 30 cents; mink, from 65 to 75c. I have often known the people to pay their taxes, when the collector came around, with fur skins, such as raccoon and fox. The collector would take the hides right at the house and give them a clear receipt for their taxes, both state and county. I have seen collectors leading a horse for the purpose of carrying his fur skins. I have seen the horse completely covered with fur skins, so you could see no part of him but his head and his hoofs and tail—one could not have told there was a horse beneath the load unless he had known it.

The people then had many advantages that they are deprived of now, in the way of wild meat, abundance of honey and fine range. A man could raise all the stock in the way of horses and cattle that he could possibly look after; the only expense was salting and caring for them—didn't have to feed, winter nor summer, except the horses in use and the cows used for milking purposes. While, on the other-hand, they labored under a great many disadvantages, in the way of schools and churches. During the residence of my father in the state of Illinois, we had a very good common school system, and we had three months of school every fall. My father being a farmer, sent me only the three months' term in the fall. I had acquired a limited education before his removal to Arkansas, yet he was interested in giving his children an education. At that time there were no free schools, only subscription schools; teachers generally were incompetent and employed through favoritism, and not upon their qualifications to teach. In a year or two after my father located, the settlement got together and located a school-house site, took their teams, hauled round logs, built them into walls, made a dirt floor, cut out a large window in the side, split a tree and made a writing desk, split small trees, hewed them and made benches for seats, cut a hole in one end of the house, erected a wooden chimney, what was then known as a stick and clay chimney, chinked and daubed the cracks, made a clapboard roof, hung the door with wooden hinges, then the house was considered ready for the school and had the name of teaching a three-months' subscription school; and very often half of the pupils were better scholars than the teachers. All they gained in their education was by attention to study. As the country improved in population, the people improved in the erection of school-houses and church-houses and constructed, in place of the round log school-house and dirt floor, hewed log school-houses with puncheon floors, stick and clay chimneys.

Those pioneer settlers took a great interest in each other's welfare, and the different settlements met together from a distance of 15 to 40 miles and adopted rules and customs binding each other to aid and assist in helping any person who met with any misfortune in the way of sickness, death or other causes that might occur, and I must say that there was more charity and real religion practiced among those pioneer settlers, although many of them were looked upon as being crude and unlettered. There was a great deal of sickness along the streams, especially chills and fever. Immigrants came in, generally in sufficient numbers to form a settlement; and I have known them, very often, after they had located and opened out 10 to 15 acres and put it in cultivation and broke the ground and planted their corn, for the whole family to be taken down at one time with chills and fever, not able even to help each other or administer to their wants. As soon as the information reached the other settlements for a distance of 15 miles or more, the different settlements would set a day to meet at the place with their horses, plows, hoes, wagons, etc.; also provisions, such as bread-stuff and salt. On meeting, they would ascertain the condition of the family or families and learn what they needed in the way of provision, medicine, nursing, etc.; they would then and there agree that the different settlements should divide up the time, set the day for each one to furnish waiters to wait upon them in their sickness, such medicine as they needed, provisions and everything that was necessary to render comfort, and in the morning before breakfast they would go out and kill a deer and as many turkeys as they needed, dress them, prepare them for the cook, who had been brought with them, go into the field after breakfast, plow and hoe the corn, clean out the garden, leave the families in charge of nurses and return again to their respective settlements. Those families, as soon as they were well, not being acquainted with the customs and rules, would meet them and inquire as to what amount they owed them for what they had done for them during their sickness. They would be readily informed, "Nothing. You are not acquainted with our rules and customs. Now, we have obligated and pledged ourselves together not to let any sick or other disabled person suffer for the want of necessary attention, and the only thing we require of you is, if any other person should move into the country and locate, and should be taken down and confined through sickness or any other cause, that you help in furnishing such aid and necessaries as they may need until they are able to again take care of themselves." Now, I have just remarked that there was more real charity and religion practiced among pioneers than there is in the present day. The people then all appeared to be interested in bettering the condition of society.

As soon as it was possible, the different settlements erected church-houses built of hewed timber, floored with puncheons, hewed seats, size of house generally from 18 by 20 to 22 by 25 feet, chinked and daubed. The churches or denominations then were Baptists and Methodists. There didn't appear to be any antagonism or hatred existing between the denominations; the doors were thrown wide open for any minister that might travel through and they all turned out, and you heard nothing said then in regard to "my church" or "your church." They appeared to recognize the fact that it was the Lord's church and that they were the Lord's people. In going to church, sometimes from 1 to 10 miles, they would see flocks of turkeys and herds of wild deer, both going and coming. As soon as the crops were laid by, they would agree among the different settlements as to where a camp-meeting should be held; they would then erect camps or huts, make boards to cover them, erect an arbor, fill the center of it with straw, and to the distance of 25 to 35 miles they would all turn out, irrespective of denomination, and all appeared to enjoy themselves, and the love of Christ appeared to dwell in each heart, and they appeared to be proud of the privilege of meeting each other and worshiping together. If any member belonging to either of the denominations defrauded, or in any way wronged his brother, he was at once waited upon and requested to make reparation to his brother and acknowledge to his brother and to the church, or he was withdrawn from or turned out of the church. The immigration was chiefly from the Middle States, some from the Southern States and very few from the Northeastern States. They were frugal, energetic, honest, intelligent and industrious. As the country increased in population, the facilities of both schools and churches improved.

The customs and habits were entirely different from those existing now; the wearing apparel was entirely home-made; they would raise their cotton, pick it out with their fingers or a hand gin, women would spin their warp, spin their filling, get their different colors from different barks for men's wear; the women used indigo and copperas for the main colors in manufacturing the cloth for dresses, wound their stripes on a stick and then wove it into cloth; you could scarcely visit a house but what you would see a loom, big spinning-wheel and little wheel; sometimes you would see three or four wheels at one house. They made both their every day and Sunday wear; the women appeared to take great pride in seeing who could weave the nicest piece of cloth, make it into a dress, make cloth and make it into what was known as Virginia bonnets, and the men tanned their own leather, made shoes for the whole family. When the women were dressed completely in their homespun they appeared to enjoy themselves, in church, in company or any other gathering, and felt just as independent and proud as the king upon his throne; they appeared to meet each other and greet each other and all appeared to realize the fact that they were human and they had but one superior and that was God. The women spun the warp, spun the wool, wove it into cloth, procured the different barks from the woods and dyed it, the general color being brown, made it with their own hands into coats, pants, undershirts; made overshirts out of homespun cotton and the whole suit was home-made, and very often a cap, made either of the raccoon or a fox, was worn on the head. When men met each other at any public gathering they appeared to be proud of meeting each other; appeared to realize the fact that they were all American citizens and human, bound together by the ties of love and affection, and the highest ambition appeared to be to make each other happy and help one another in time of need.

I don't believe there was as much dissipation by partaking of intoxicants, or other wickedness, as exists to-day among the same number of persons. It is true that then any man who was able to purchase a little still and had a spring could erect his own still house and make his own whiskey without paying any tax or duty upon the same, and anyone of his neighbors who wanted a gallon of whiskey could carry a bushel of corn to the still-house and get a gallon of whiskey in exchange for it. And if men became drunk on the whiskey it did not appear to make them wild and crazy as the whiskey of to-day does.

Men then, as well as now, would have disagreements and fall out and fight, but the custom that prevailed among that class would not tolerate nor allow a man to use weapons, and if two men had a disagreement, one of them being a large, stout man physically, the other being a small man, not equal in strength—if they were together in a public place and the large one would challenge the weaker to fight him, before he could hardly open his mouth, some man present who considered himself to be his equal in physical strength, would just say to him "now then, if you want to fight, that man is not your equal, but I am; get your second and walk out and I will do the fighting for this other man." I have, on different occasions, seen the large man who was challenging the weaker for a fight reply to the challenge and say, "My friend, I have nothing against you; this other man hasn't treated me right," or set out some other reason that he ought to whip him; the man in reply would say, "I don't want to hear another word from you in regard to wanting to fight this other man, and if I do you have got me to fight." Very often I have seen the man shut his mouth and turn away and say nothing more. On the other hand, I have heard a man say to another, "If you want to fight, I am your man; the other man is unable to fight you," and in an instant the other would reply. "Well, sir, I am your man; just as leave fight you as anybody else." They would select their seconds, take a drink of whiskey together, enter into an agreement that whenever the seconds said either one was whipped, that they were to abide by it, unless they found out before their seconds did that they were whipped, and if so, they would manifest it by holloing "enough," when the other person was to stop at once and inflict no more injury. I have often seen them fight until they were both as bloody as butchers and in the end the seconds would have to hollo for one or the other. As soon as they were separated they would go to the same pool or place where there was water and wash themselves, and walk arm-in-arm, laughing and talking and drinking together and remark, "We are now fast friends and we have settled the matter as to which was the best man." And if a man would produce a weapon on either side his own friends would turn against him and he would be forced to put it up at once. Men then appeared to be governed by that higher inspiration, that a man should not use anything that would permanently disable or take the life of his fellow-man; but if one man became pregnant with fight or desire to maim his fellow-man, in order that he should not be disappointed, some man would readily volunteer, who believed that he was his equal physically, and deliver him of all his fighting propensities.

Dow Bryant and a Gallon of Whisky

I will here relate an instance that I well remember. A man by the name of Bridges lived just above where Bakersfield is now located, owned a little mill at the same place where they still continue the work of the mill just above Bakersfield. The mill ground from twelve to fifteen bushels per day; most of us carried our sacks on horseback, and ground by turns. Bridges had employed a man by the name of Math Shipman to run the mill. He was a small man weighing only about 135 pounds, and there was a man by the name of Dow Bryant, lately from the state of Tennessee, quite a large man, weighing 225 pounds, who delighted in fighting under the old style, and claimed that he had whipped two of the best men in Tennessee at the same time. Shipman had made some statement that reflected upon Bryant; so Bryant procured a gallon of whiskey, and, taking two men with him, went from Bennett's river over to the mill and informed Shipman of what he had heard he had said in regard to him, and said to Shipman that if he had said it and didn't take it back, he would have to whip him, and the only thing he hated about it would be the whipping of as little a man as he was. Shipman replied that he need not take that matter into consideration, and that his father had always taught him that if he told anything and it was the truth, not to take it back under any consideration, and that what he had said was true; and as to his whipping him, his father had always taught him never to admit anything until he knew it was true; and "I have my doubts about you being able to whip me; but if you will get your second ready, as soon as the corn that is in the hopper is ground out and I refill the hopper I will get my second and we will go out into the mill yard so you can test it." They accordingly got their seconds, went into the mill yard, formed a ring, and when the word was given by the seconds, they went together. Shipman bit every finger on the right hand and three fingers on the left hand to the bone; and Bryant's friends, seeing he was going to be whipped, proposed parting them. Bryant returned home, and when his neighbors would meet him with his fingers all bound up, they would say, "Hello there! What's the matter?" His reply would be, "I went over into the wilderness and got hold of a wildcat, and it like to have eaten me up before I could get loose from it." He would further say that Shipman was all mouth, and that he could not put his hands anywhere about his head unless he got them in his mouth.

I will give another instance touching the same man (Bryant). He went over to Salem during circuit court. The sheriff of the county was a man by the name of Dick Benton, quite a small man, and the constable of the township was named Moore and a very small man. Bryant was drinking some, and wanted to fight as usual, and became noisy. The judge ordered the constable to arrest him; but when Bryant saw the constable coming, he backed behind an old building, and ordered the constable not to rush upon him. When the constable came in reach, he knocked him down, came walking around, and remarked that no tickey officer could arrest him. The judge then ordered the sheriff to arrest him. When the sheriff came within reach, he knocked him down, came walking back, and remarked, "I thought they understood me when I told them that a tickey set of officers could not arrest me." During the time the father-in-law of the sheriff had come out. Bryant walked up to him, and with a d—— said: "I want to know what you are doing here." Without any more words being passed, the sheriff's father-in-law knocked Bryant down, jumped onto him, but he holloed, and they took him off. Bryant straightened himself up right into his face again and remarked, "I have told a lie, I am not whipped." Without any more words he knocked him down again and gave him a considerable pelting. Bryant holloed again, and after they had taken him off, he straightened up and walked off about ten steps distant, turned around, and remarked, "I have told a lie, I am not whipped; but I am not going to say it within reach of that old man any more." On the same day some men knocked him down, taking a common clapboard, hit him three licks while he was running on all fours, then got a piece of chalk and wrote on it, "Dow's board," and nailed it up on the corner of the square.

The drinking class for years used all manner of language and obscenity in the streets, and even in the hearing of the court. There was a man by the name of Neeley who became a candidate for circuit judge, and one of the main reasons he urged for his election was that, if elected, he would punish all offenders of the public peace, and force all persons to respect the court, and he would discharge the duties with some dignity and respect for himself and the people. Shortly after he was elected and during his first court, a man by the name of Smith, who lived just north of Salem on the South Fork, and who had worked for his election, came into the court room after the court was in session, walked around to the judge, took him by the hand and remarked, "Judge, I want to congratulate you on your success, and I hope things will change." The judge turned to the clerk and remarked, "Mr. Clerk, assess a fine of five dollars against Mr. Smith." Smith soon retired from the court room and declared that Neeley was a tyrant, and that if he had his vote back he would not support him. In the afternoon the judge ordered the sheriff to bring Mr. Smith into the court room and said to him, "Mr. Smith, you were a warm friend of mine in my canvass, worked for my election, and no doubt contributed much to my success. Now I don't want to disappoint you in any promises that I made during the canvass, but after court is convened and the judge on the bench, it is contempt in any gentleman to come up and take him by the hand and congratulate him on his success; and now I hope that you, with all others of my friends, and those who are not, will support and protect me in enforcing the dignity of the court." Mr. Smith at once became pacified, and said that the judge was right.

We remember another instance that occurred during the same court. There was a young lawyer, who came into court, wearing a very fine pair of boots, and, standing on his feet, he would occasionally raise onto his toes, and you could hear his boots creak all over the court room. The judge turned to him and remarked, "Mr., what did those boots cost you?" The lawyer quickly replied, "Ten dollars, sir." The judge remarked to him, "I think you got the boots too cheap. I think they ought to be worth twenty dollars. Mr. Clerk, assess a fine of ten dollars against this man."

On the next day a man by the name of Cage Hogan, a man who was widely known, in company with others, got on the public square, near the saloon, and began to curse and swear, and use all manner of obscenity. The judge ordered the sheriff to go down and see who was making the disturbance. The sheriff went out to the place and stated to the crowd that the judge had ordered him to see who was creating that disturbance, and to arrest the party. Hogan remarked, with an oath, "You go back and tell the old judge that it is Cage Hogan, and that I suppose he has heard of me before, and I don't allow sheriffs to arrest me until I get ready." The sheriff came back and reported to the court, and the judge made an order for him to proceed at once and arrest Mr. Hogan and all others that he might find acting in a boisterous manner, and if necessary to take the power of the county, and if he didn't immediately bring him into the court room he would assess a fine against him of $100. The sheriff returned and informed Mr. Hogan of what the court had said, and that he would be bound to arrest him and take him by force if he didn't go without it. Hogan remarked that if it would be any pleasure and consolation to the old tyrant he was the man who could go into the court room. When he came into the court room, the sheriff said, "Here is Mr. Hogan." Mr. Hogan remarked, with an oath, "I am here, judge, and I would like to know what you want." The judge replied that there were some parties creating a disturbance in the hearing of the court and that he had ordered them arrested and brought in. "Do you know who the parties are?" Hogan, with an oath, replied, "I am the man; and, judge, I want you to understand that I am a horse, and if you hain't become acquainted with old Cage Hogan, you will." The judge remarked to him that they had a stable and that was the place for horses, and that he would assess a fine of $50 against him, and ordered the sheriff to take him to jail until it was paid. Hogan, remarking, "I always carry the money to pay my way, and you need not put yourself to any trouble to have the sheriff carry me to jail," pulled out his pocket book, took out $50, and said, with an oath, "Here is the money, and I want you to understand that I am no jail bird, and you can't stick me in your old jail." The judge then said, "Mr. Hogan seems to have plenty of money; Mr. Clerk assess another $50 fine against him." At that Hogan appeared to hesitate and reflect, and, pulling out a quart bottle of whiskey from his pocket, started to approach the judge, who was on the bench, saying with an oath, "Here, judge, let's drink together and be friends and stop this foolishness." The judge turned to the clerk and said: "Mr. Clerk, assess another fine of $50 against him," and ordered the sheriff to take him forthwith to jail and keep him there until further orders, for he considered him an unlawful horse, and he did not think it safe for society for him to run at large. The sheriff, with a considerable posse, carried him to the jail, and with considerable trouble put him in and shut him up. He remained in jail two days, and at the evening session of the second day the sheriff came into court and said that Mr. Hogan was very desirous of seeing the court. The court then ordered him brought in. On his being brought in, the court asked him if he still thought he was a horse. Hogan replied, "No, sir; I am not anything now but Cage Hogan." The judge said: "As you have now arrived at the conclusion that you are human and not animal, are you willing to respect the laws of your land and the dignity of this court?" Hogan replied: "I am, judge, with all my heart." The judge then said to him, "What about that money of yours; are you able to pay the $150 fine?" Hogan said, "No, judge, I don't feel like I could pay $150 this evening; I don't feel as rich and as brave as I did when you first brought me into court, and I want you to be as lenient with me as possible." The court said, "Mr. Hogan, if you will promise me that you will neither disturb the dignity of this court nor incite others to do so, I will remit all of your fine except $50." Mr. Hogan then and there paid the $50 fine and was released. From that time up to the end of his term there never was any disturbance of any nature in the hearing of the court, and if you went into the court room everything was so quiet that you could almost hear a pin drop.

The Tutt and Evert War.

My memory is that it was in the year 1846 that an incident occurred in Marion county that I will now relate. It was known as the Tutt and Evert war. They were once fast friends. They met in Yellville, the county seat, and while there one of the Everts purchased a set of silver spoons at the store of one of the Tutts. Afterwards a misunderstanding grew up between them as to the payment for the spoons, which led them into a fight. Afterwards, which was often, when they would meet in Yellville, they would hardly ever get away without some fighting taking place between the parties. There was a large gathering and a public demonstration to take place within a few weeks. The Tutts declared, backed by the Kings, that if the Everts came into town that day they would kill them outright. Both parties came in early in the day, heavily armed. After coming under the influence of intoxicants to some extent, Evert went into the public square and stated what he had heard from the Tutts, and said that if they, the Tutts and Kings, were ready for the conflict, there never was a better time than then, and that they, the Everts, were fully ready. Both parties, in short range, opened fire. One of the Kings shot Simm Evert during the fight, supposed to be through the heart. One of the Kings, just previous to the shooting of Evert, had been shot through the hips and so disabled that he could not stand upon his feet. After Simm Evert had received the wound, he turned around, and, within a few steps of the wounded King, picked up a large stone, raised it in both hands, and, stepping up to King, came down on King's head with the stone with all the force possible, completely crushing King's head. Then, turning around and walking about three steps, he remarked, "I am a dead man," and fell to the ground and expired within a few minutes. When the smoke cleared away and the fighting ceased, an examination showed that there were eight or ten left dead on the ground. The stoutest men afterwards went to the stone, but there wasn't one of them that could raise it from the ground. The surviving Kings made arrangements and attempted to leave the country. At that time the sheriff of the county was a man by the name of Mooney. A writ was placed in his hands and he arrested them. Shortly after the arrest, the Everts and their friends came upon the sheriff and his posse and demanded the prisoners. The sheriff gave them up, and they were all shot. The sheriff then appealed to the governor for aid; he sent the militia, who aided the sheriff in the arrest of the Everts, a man by the name of Stratton, and some others of their friends. The governor ordered them to be taken to Lawrence county and placed in the Lawrence county jail at Smithville, the county seat of that county. I saw the militia in charge of the prisoners pass my father's house on their way to Smithville.

In about ten days after they were put in prison, late one evening, strange men commenced dropping into the town, who were unknown to the citizens, until they reached to about the number of sixty-five. Somewhere near midnight they paraded the streets, and the jail being a log jail, they prepared levers and pried it up and let the prisoners all out, and they all left together, Evert, Stratton, and their friends proceeding directly to Texas. After their families had reached them and everything had quieted down, they sent in and notified Hamp Tutt, whom they charged with being the inciter and leader in bringing on the original trouble, that if he would "hull out" and leave the state they would not kill him. Tutt was a man of considerable wealth and declared he would not leave the state. He at once hired a young doctor, who claimed to be a very brave man, to act as his body guard, and kept himself very close to the town for about the space of two years. One day, however, he declared that he was going to take a ride out on the main public road for his health. He, in company with the young doctor, then rode out about one mile. On returning, not more than a quarter of a mile from the town, after they had passed the place where they were concealed, they, (the Everts) discharged a volley. Two balls entered the back of Tutt, and his horse made but a few leaps when he fell to the ground. The young doctor ran for dear life, reached the town, and gave the alarm. Parties immediately went out to the place, but found that Tutt was dead. On examining the place where the parties had lain in ambush, they found that they had lain there for months watching for the opportunity. So ended the Tutt and Evert war.

Indians Chase a Sheriff Ten Miles.

Now the author will relate another incident that occurred in Marion county, Arkansas, in the early settling of this country. There was a large relation of the Coker family who lived in that county. One of the Cokers raised two families, one by a white woman and the other by an Indian woman. The Indian family, after they had grown up and become men, resided a part of the time in the Nation, where the mother lived, and a part of the time they remained in Marion county where their father and other relatives lived. They were very dangerous men when drinking, and the whole country feared them. They had been in different troubles, and had killed three or four men, and if the authorities attempted to arrest them, they defied them, and would go to the Nation and remain awhile. There was a deputy sheriff in the county by the name of Stinnett, who claimed to be very brave, who said he would arrest them if he found their whereabouts. The Cokers learned what Stinnett had said, and that the warrant for their arrest was in his possession, so they got some good tow strings and vowed that whenever they met him they would arrest him and take him to Yellville and put him in jail. A short time afterwards they met him in the public road. As soon as Stinnett recognized them, and having heard of the threats they had made, he wheeled his horse and put spurs to him. They drew their revolvers and put spurs to their horses in pursuit, commanding him to halt. But Stinnett spurred his horse the harder. They pursued him a distance of about ten miles; but Stinnett's horse proved to be the best, and he made his escape. They again returned to the Nation.

The good people, generally, of the county were terrorized and afraid to raise their voices against them, and it became a question as to whether they had a man in the county who had the courage to attempt their arrest. They made it a question in the next election, to elect a man that would make the arrest, if such a man could be found in the county. There was a man living in the county by the name of Brown, who was a cousin of the Cokers, and he told the people that if they would elect him, he would arrest them or they would kill him. He was elected by a large majority, and, after he had qualified, took charge of the office. The first time the Cokers came into the settlement, he summoned two men, thought to be brave, who pledged themselves that if it became necessary they would die for him. He then went to the house of one of the Coker family where the Cokers were staying, and on his arrival found the two Coker brothers sitting in chairs in the yard. He was within some thirty feet of them before they saw him. Their guns were sitting near them, and they seized them; but before they could present them Brown had his revolver cocked and leveled at one of their heads, and told him not to attempt to raise his gun or he would kill him. Coker turned his back to him with his gun on his shoulder, secretly cocked it, and leveled it upon Brown as near as possible without taking it from his shoulder and fired, missing his aim. About the same time Brown discharged his revolver at Coker and made a slight scalp wound. The other Coker threw his gun upon Brown and fired, killing him instantly. The two men who were acting as a posse for the sheriff turned and fled, leaving Brown lying dead on the ground. After the shooting the Cokers fled to the Nation and remained there.

The author will now relate another incident that occurred in the same county. For years the Cokers and Hogans had been intimate friends, and drank, gambled, and horseraced together a great deal. There came up a trouble between Coker and one of his brothers-in-law, and one evening Coker, in company with Hogan, went to the house of this brother-in-law. Both had been drinking. Coker swore that he would ride onto the porch of his brother-in-law, and made the attempt. His brother-in-law caught the horse by the bridle and warned him not to ride onto porch, and that if he did he would kill him. Coker drew his revolver, spurred his horse, but as he entered the porch his brother-in-law shot him dead. Coker being a cousin of the Indian Cokers, they charged Hogan with inducing him, while drinking, to go to his brother-in-law's house, so as to give him a chance to kill him, and that Hogan's life should pay the penalty. Shortly afterwards Hogan was traveling on an old trail that led along the bluff of White river. The river here made a bend in horseshoe shape, following the bluff all around. The Cokers learned that Hogan was going to pass through this gap, and they lay in wait for him, cutting off all avenues of escape possible so he would be forced into the horseshoe for his escape. When he came in sight they raised the Indian war-whoop, and drew their revolvers. Hogan looked around and saw that his pursuers were in about a hundred yards of him. He saw his predicament, as for a quarter of a mile he confronted the bluff, and that there was only one avenue of escape. He went to the edge of the precipice and looked over. There, under the bluff, lay the deep, blue waters of White river, 150 feet below. Again he turned his eyes toward his pursuers. He knew it meant death if they caught him; so he made the fearful leap over the bluff, striking the water where it was about twenty-five feet deep. Hogan was a wicked man and cursed a great deal. He swore it didn't take him long to reach the water, but that he thought considerable time intervened from the time he struck the water until he reached the top again. He swam to the bank which was but a few feet distant. His pursuers came to the precipice, looked over, and said that they had made Hogan do something they had intended to do, and that was, to take his own life, as they supposed no human being could make the leap and live. After cutting his saddle and bridle to pieces, they turned his horse loose, and reported that Hogan was killed. Hogan traveled around under the bluff for about two miles, made his way home, wound up his business, sold his farm, and moved into Fulton county, Arkansas, which ended the trouble between them.

The author will relate another incident that occurred in Marion county, Arkansas. There was a widow residing in that county, who was left with a family of children, among them a boy about twelve years of age. Her horse ran away, and she sent her boy in pursuit of it. After he had found it and was returning home, leading the horse, Hogan and one of his friends met him in the road. They had both been drinking, and seeing the boy, concluded to have some fun out of him. Hogan, with an oath, said, "What are you doing with my horse?" The boy replied, "It is not your horse, it is mother's horse." Hogan sprang off his horse, and, thinking to scare the boy and have some fun with him, said: "Here, you know it's my horse; give him up." The boy pulled a barlow knife out of his pocket, and, opening it, said, "You attempt to come near me, and I will stick this knife into you." Hogan stepped up to him and said, "You little rascal, would you attempt to cut me with a knife?" The boy, without any further words, made a stroke at him with the knife, and the blade entered his body near the left breast. Hogan declared afterward that he jumped about ten feet high. He turned to his friend and remarked: "I believe our fun with the little bugger has caused my death, or at least a serious wound." He went to a physician, had the wound probed, and found the knife had penetrated a rib and reached the inside. The physician informed him that had it passed between the ribs it would have killed him instantly. Hogan remarked to the boy, after he stabbed him, "My son, you are made out of the right kind of stuff. I had no intention of hurting you or taking your mother's horse from you, I merely wanted to have some fun; but I see I have struck the wrong boy this time. Go on and take your horse to your mother."

The author will refer to another incident that occurred in Howell county, Missouri. In the year 1860 there was a man who resided in West Plains by the name of Jack McDaniel, who was a blacksmith by trade. This same Hogan came to town, soon became under the influence of whiskey, went down to McDaniel's shop with a horse, and ordered him to shoe him. McDaniel had two other horses in the shop at the time to be shod, and said to Hogan that as soon as he had shod those two horses, he would shoe his. Hogan said, "I am in a hurry, and I want you to shoe mine now." McDaniel told him that he could not shoe his horse until he had shod the other two horses. Hogan said, "If you don't shoe him at once, I will whip you." McDaniel then pulled a barlow knife out of his pocket, and, opening it, said: "Yes; and if you fool with me, I will cut your throat from ear to ear." At this remark, Hogan moved right up to him and said, "Just smell of my neck." McDaniel struck at him with the knife, and the blade entered just under the ear, cutting to the bone all the way around into the mouth. Hogan went to a physician in West Plains and had the wound dressed. He then went to a glass, looked in, and said that he had lived a long time, been in many tight places, but he had never had such a mouth as he had now, and remarked, "My mouth looks as if it was spread from ear to ear."

The people then generally gave their time to growing stock, especially horses and cattle, as hogs and sheep had to be kept close around the farms and penned of a night, especially the pigs, on account of wolves and other wild animals. I have known the wolves to kill 2 and 3 year old cattle. Farmers fed their corn chiefly to cattle, horses and mules. They always commanded fair prices. Cattle, at the age of four years and upwards were driven to Jacksonport, Arkansas and from there shipped to New Orleans. Horses and mules were driven to Louisiana, Mississippi and some to the Southern part of Arkansas and there put upon the market. Prices generally ranging from $75 to $150. All of our groceries were purchased in New Orleans, shipped to Jacksonport, from there they were conveyed by wagons. Our dry goods were mostly purchased at Lynn Creek, Missouri and brought through by wagon, but in the early settling of the country they hauled dry goods all the way from St. Louis except what were brought into the country by peddlers. The peddlers would go to St. Louis on horse back with one and sometimes two led horses, buy the goods, pack them, place them on their horses and peddle all the way from St. Louis and still further west and take in exchange all kinds of fur skins.

I have seen peddlers with one horse still loaded with goods and the other covered with fur skins, and I have seen them again after they had disposed of all their goods with all three horses completely covered with fur skins and sometimes so heavily loaded that the peddler would either be walking and leading or driving.

Money was scarce but the people spent very little money, were not in debt and lived much better and easier than they do now. Their counties were out debt and the county warrants were always at par.

When my father first located here, there were about four or five settlers in all of the territory that now belongs to Howell County; there were but three men that resided upon what is known as the middle bayou, William McCarty and his sons, Green and Willis.

In about three years after my father settled here, McCarties sold out and located on the bayou above Bakersfield. In 1844 there was a man by the name of Thomas Hall who resided about 10 miles southwest of West Plains, a man by the name of Cyrus Newberry resided about 10 miles from where West Plains now is, and a man by the name of Braudwaters resided near where Moody is now located.

There was not a settlement in all the territory that now includes Howell valley. There had been a settlement, by a man who was a hunter, made at what is now termed the town spring at West Plains who had cleared five or six acres, but had left it. All the valleys in Howell county were considered worthless on account of there being no water.

When the country commenced settling, there was no attention paid to congressional lines. As they settled on the streams, they would make conditional lines—blaze across the bottom until they would strike the table-lands; and the next men who might come in and settle would blaze his conditional line across, and for years there was but little land entered. Men only sold their improvements, and there was a fixed law, or custom, that prevailed among them—that no man should enter the land and take another man's improvements without paying him for them. A few such instances occurred to my knowledge. The man was at once waited upon, and informed of the rules and customs of the country; and besides the rules and customs, it was not right nor honest to take a man's labor without paying him for it; and that it was the intention and purpose of the people to see that justice was done every man; and he was therefore notified to proceed to the late owner of the improvements and pay him the value of the improvements; and if they couldn't agree upon the value, submit it to two disinterested neighbors; and if they couldn't agree let the third man be brought in, which finding would be final. In every instance if the man who had made the entry failed to comply with the terms, he was at once notified that his absence from the settlement and a speedy departure from the country would be satisfactory to the settlement; and that if he failed to comply, he would have to submit to the punishments that would be inflicted upon him. If the improvements, which were always reasonable, were paid for, the party would move off, blaze out another claim, and go to work to improve it; but if he didn't receive pay for his improvements, he remained on the land and the other fellow's whereabouts would soon be unknown; and when the land was sold for taxes, the man owning the improvements would buy it in by paying the amount of taxes and costs without an opposing bid.

When my father first located in this country, a large portion of the territory had never been sectionized. What was known as the old survey, including range seven and a part of range eight (now in this county) formed a part of the old survey. Congress passed a law graduating the price of land according to the length of time it had been upon the market. The government price was $1.25 per acre. The first reduction was twenty-five cents upon the acre; then they reduced the purchase price every few years until all the land included in the old survey went down to a bit an acre. The graduation law allowed each man to take up 320 acres by making actual settlement and cultivating it. But the land speculators took advantage of the law and hired men to go upon the land and make a few brush-heaps, and in the name of some man apply for the entry, until all of the graduated lands were taken up, and there was not a bona fide settler who had complied with the law in one out of every hundred.

Most of the land in Howell, Gunters, Peace, and Hutton valleys, and the land where West Plains is now situated, were entered at a bit per acre. After the entries, the valley lands commenced settling rapidly. When the time came to procure a patent to the land, speculators went to Washington and engineered a bill through Congress to allow the parties to prove up without making proof of actual settlement, and in that way fraudulently obtained patents to two-thirds of all the land above referred to. The next thing, the speculators went East, sold their lands (or mortgaged them) by representing that all of the table lands were bottom lands and covered with walnut, hackberry, box elder, and other bottom growths. They let the mortgages all be foreclosed.

The merchants, who procured title to the lands, sent out agents to examine the land, who went back and reported that the lands were valueless and were not worth the taxes and refused to pay taxes on them. With some few exceptions the lands were offered time and again for taxes, would not sell for the amount of the taxes and thousands of acres remained in that condition until a short time before the building of the Kansas City & Memphis railroad. All of the table lands were looked upon by the people as being entirely worthless and fit for nothing but range.

My father in the year 1849 sold out and removed from Bennett's river, Fulton county, to the North Fork of White river, in Fulton County but two miles from the State line, dividing Missouri and Arkansas. In the year 1852 father took the winter fever, died and was buried in the cemetery, three miles above the State line, known as the Teverbauch cemetery.

In the year 1854 my mother and one brother died with the bloody flux, leaving three sons of the family, William, the oldest one living, F. M. and James I. Monks. The author was married on the 10th day of April 1853 to Martha A. Rice, a daughter of Thomas and Nancy Rice. He continued to reside upon the old homestead and was a farmer by occupation. The country commenced settling up rapidly. All the land on the streams was settled, with very few exceptions, with a frugal and intelligent class of people, mostly from the middle states. In the year 1856 Howell county was created by taking a part of the territory of Ozark and a part of the territory of Oregon, to-wit: Ranges 7 and 8 and a small part of 9 were taken from Oregon county and the remainder of 9 and 10 was taken from Ozark county. Andrew V. Taber, —— Johnson (and the name of the other commissioner we have forgotten at the present time) proceeded to locate the county seat and purchased 40 acres near the West Plains spring and laid it out into lots, got the county seat near the center, as a sufficient amount of water was necessary, taking into consideration the town spring and then what was known as the Bingiman spring. The lots sold rapidly and the town grew beyond any expectation and the country was improving and settling up with the town.

In 1858 the author sold out on the North Fork of White river and moved into Howell county and located 11 miles southwest of West Plains upon sections 2 and 11, range 9, was appointed constable of Benton township and in the year 1860 was elected constable of Benton township, commenced reading law in the year 1858. In the year 1860 West Plains was said to be the best, neatest, prettiest town in South Missouri and contained about 200 inhabitants; had a neat frame court house in the center of the square, a first-class hewed log jail, had four first-class stores (for the country at that time) which kept continually on hand a general assortment of merchandise, had two saloons, tan yard and the county was out of debt, with money in the treasury; a county warrant then was good for its face value in gold, and the country was prosperous in every respect. The people generally were fast friends and their chief interest was to develop the resources of the country and aid and help each other.

How a Mob Was Prevented

In 1860, a man resided about three miles below West Plains by the name of Collins Coffey on the farm recently owned by Thomas Bolin and some men by the name of Griffiths and Boles—(some of them resided in West Plains and some of them resided in Thomasville, Oregon county) and they and Coffey had a falling out with each other and the enmity between them became very great. So the Griffiths, who lived at West Plains went down to Thomasville and they and the Boles with a few other friends declared that they would come up to Coffey's and mob him.

They went to work and made for themselves a uniform, procured a bugle, fife and snare drum, procured a hack, made them a place for a candle and aimed to come up in the night.

Coffey owned considerable stock among which was a bull about four years old. The range then was luxuriant and there was a pond near the side of the road that led from Thomasville and West Plains and the bull with other cattle had lain down on the edge of the road about one mile from Coffey's residence. They armed themselves, procured their musicians, got into their hack, drawn by two horses and started off to the scene of action with a bright light, with a flag flying and the music playing. When they reached the place near where the male was laying, he rose to his feet, squared himself and fetched a keen bellow as though (although he was animal) he might have some information as to their mission. They paid no attention to the action of the bull and on their driving within about ten feet of him he made a desperate lunge forward; they supposed that he intended to gore the horses, but missed his aim, struck the hack near the coupling, broke the coupling pole and turned head over heels, and fell right between the horses. The horses became frightened, made a desperate lunge to extricate themselves, and the bull at the same time was scuffling to extricate himself. Both horses fell, the bull and horses were all piled into a heap, grunting and scuffling. The occupants of the hack were all piled out in a heap, almost in an instant, and before they could extricate themselves and get onto their feet the bull had gotten up and was moving in the direction of his master's house bellowing every step as if to say, "I dare you to come any further." As soon as the posse got to their feet, having prepared, before they started, with plenty of whiskey, and being pretty well filled at the time of the occurrence, Boles got to his feet, drew his pistol, cocked it and swore he could whip any bull he ever saw, especially a one horned Coffey bull.

The hack was almost demolished and the occupants considerably bruised, both horses crippled, and after consultation, they concluded that as the Coffey bull had proved so successful they had better abandon their trip and retreat "in good order" to Thomasville, leaving their horses hitched by the roadside and the shattered hack piled up at one side of the road.

The next morning they sent out a team and brought the horses and hack back to Thomasville, and they were wiser and perhaps better men, as they never again attempted to mob Coffey.

The strange feature about this matter is that the bull was never known to be cross before this occasion, when his master was to be mobbed.

The society of the country had increased with the population, and school houses and churches were erected all over the country, nice farms were opened up, the dwellings changed from round log to hewed log and frame, the people all manifested a great deal of interest in schools and churches and the general development of the country.

Religion and Politics.

The prominent religious denominations from 1849 to 1860 consisted chiefly of Methodists, Baptists and the Christian order; but all appeared to recognize each other as Christians and would very often work together, as they had in the early pioneer days.

Everything had the appearance of pointing to the day when Howell county would become the garden spot of South Missouri.

Politically, the country was largely Democratic. In political campaigns the Whig and Democratic candidates would canvass the country together, and while on the stump speaking they would assail each other's platforms in most bitter terms. After the speaking was over they would go to the same hotel or boarding place and laugh and talk together as though they belonged to the same political party, and after the election was over the successful party would be recognized by the people as the officers of the whole people. You would see no partisan line drawn by the different courts between political parties, but the appointments of all local officers were made according to the qualifications of the man and not as to what party he belonged. The author, having been born and raised by Democratic parents, was a Democrat and acted with the Democratic party, his first vote for president having been cast for James Buchanan. In 1860 a great political question of the nation began to be agitated and a very bitter feeling was manifested from the stump between the Republican and Democratic parties.

After the Democratic party divided and the bolters nominated Breckenridge for president, the author took part in the canvas and was a strong advocate of Stephen A. Douglas, the regular nominee of the Democratic party, and at the election cast his vote for Stephen A. Douglas for president.

[MISSOURI AND THE CIVIL WAR.]

Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States. Soon after the election they began to discuss the question of seceding from the Government. The author again took the field in opposition to secession, and delivered a number of speeches.

In a short time the people that had been the closest of friends and trusted a neighbor with the most sacred thing they possessed became bitter enemies and arrayed themselves against one another and as the discussion of the great question of war continued to grow more bitter the people appeared to align themselves for and against secession. The people soon grew so bitter that they often talked of fighting each other.

Before the firing on Ft. Sumpter and after several of the states had actually seceded the Union sentiment prevailed so strongly in the state of Missouri that Clabourn Jackson, the then acting Governor, was compelled to order an election in the state of Missouri to settle the matter by a vote, of the people as to whether Missouri should secede or remain in the Union. The author then took the stump and advocated that the state remain in the Union and manifest her loyalty to the preservation of the Union. In this campaign the feeling of the war grew more bitter. The result, however, of the election was that the state remained in the Union. In the mean time, Ft. Sumpter had been fired upon by the rebels.

Clabe Jackson, the Governor, appeared to be determined upon the state seceding either by fair or foul means. Without regarding a majority vote of the people of the state, Clabe Jackson, the then acting Governor, issued his proclamation convening the Legislature in extra session for the purpose of passing ordinances of secession.

At that time Gen. Frost was in the command of the militia and some state troops stationed in St. Louis Barracks but he was in heart and sympathy a rebel. Everything appeared to have been greased and prepared for the occasion.

As the Governor had the whole machinery of the state completely under his control he believed that it would be an easy matter for the legislature to pass ordinances of secession and carry the state out of the Union, but the Government authorities at Washington learned of the critical condition and deep laid scheme of the Governor to carry the state out of the Union and at once ordered Capt. Lyons of the Regular Army, (who afterward became General of the volunteer forces and fought the battle at Wilson Creek, Missouri) to come to St. Louis; he, being a captain in the Regular Army, outranked Gen. Frost, took possession of the troops, arms and amunitions, etc., reorganized and rapidly increased the army by volunteers.

On information reaching Gen. Lyons that the legislature had been convened in extra session he at once took his available troops and left St. Louis with the intention of surrounding the Capitol and taking the members of both houses, the Governor, with all his state officers, prisoners; when the Governor learned that the Government troops were en route for Jefferson City and their purpose, he ordered the bridge to be burned across the Gasconade river near its mouth, on what was then known as the North Pacific R. R. This delayed the troops for several hours. On their approach to Jefferson City the Governor and state officers and the members of both houses of the legislature and all the troops that had been ordered to the Capital by the Governor retreated to Boonville, Missouri.

I heard our representative in a speech delivered a short time afterwards, say they came so near getting him while he was getting out of Jefferson City that he lost his umbrella. Lyons pursued them and at Boonville they made a stand and on Lyon's arrival with his troops he attacked them and they fought for a short time. They again retreated, went into the extreme west part of the state to a place known as Lone Jack. There they made a stand again, Lyons still pursuing. He again attacked then at Lone Jack and after a short fight they retreated again into the State of Arkansas, and there Governor Jackson convened the legislature and they passed ordinances of secession declaring the State of Missouri out of the Union and that she was attached to the compact forming the Confederate States.

General Lyon returned to St. Louis, increasing his force considerably, several regiments being attached to his command from other states. The government ordered him to prepare his troops and move west to Springfield. The terminus of the South Missouri Pacific R. R., at that time was at Rolla, Missouri. While Lyon was massing his troops and preparing to march to Springfield the most intense excitement prevailed in the entire State of Missouri.

A Big Confederate Meeting at West Plains.

The Confederate authorities at once commenced recruiting for the Confederate service and the Confederate recruiting officers published a public meeting at West Plains about the first or tenth of July and while the Confederate authorities were moving, the union or loyal element of the country was not idle, but was watching every move, openly and secretly preparing for the conflict.

A few days before the meeting was to be held at West Plains the Confederates sent to the pinery and procured a long pine pole, hoisted it at the corner of Durham's store at the northwest corner of the public square and swung to the breeze the stars and bars. At the same time, or near the same time, the Union men sent to the pinery and procured a pole. They hoisted it on the northeast corner of East Main street by the corner of McGinty's store where the S. J. Langston Mercantile Co., building now stands and swung to the breeze the stars and stripes.

It was freely published throughout the county by the Rebels that if any Union man attempted to open his mouth on that day he would be shot as full of holes as a sifter bottom. There was a beautiful grove then growing just east of the branch on East Main street running from the town spring. Large preparations were made by the Rebels for the occasion. It was published that there would be leading Confederates from all over the state and different other states to speak on that day and one of the main features of the day would be recruiting for Confederate service. A big speaker's stand was erected with hundreds of seats. When the day arrived the town was crowded with people and the friends of both parties were armed and appeared to be ready for the conflict. The stars and bars attracted a great deal of attention, being the first flag that had ever been seen by the people that antagonized the stars and stripes and threatened to destroy the United States Government.

There was soon a number of determined men gathered under each flag. A number of their prominent speakers were on hand, among them Judge Price, of Springfield, known as "Wild Bill" Price. They readily took in the situation and saw that a conflict was imminent, and as they were not ready for it they met together in council and agreed that their men should not bring on the conflict on that day. Quite a number of the parties prepared themselves at the speaker's stand. When different speakers were introduced to address the people, many of the men would sit, either with their guns in their hands or with their guns near to them, and the most fiery and extreme speeches were made that I ever heard.

The author well remembers the speech of Judge William Price. He told them that the lopeared Dutch had reached Rolla, Missouri, the terminus of the railroad, and that they were complete heathens; that Abraham Lincoln had given the state of Missouri to them, if they would send enough lopeared Dutch to conquer the state, and that to his knowledge they had gone out into the country and taken men's wives and daughters and brought them into the camps, and that he saw them, in the presence of the mothers, run bayonets through their infant children and hoist them up and carry them around on their bayonets; that Abraham Lincoln had offered a reward for all of the preachers that were in favor of the South. He bursted into tears and asked the question, "I want to know who the man is, and the color of his hair, that won't enlist in the interest of his home, his wife, his children and everything that is sacred and good, to drive out lopeared Dutch, a certain class of Hessians, from our land." He urged them to come forward and place their names upon the rolls. Nearly all the preachers present placed their names on the recruiting list first.

The excitement grew still more bitter. In the afternoon they began to threaten openly that the stars and stripes should be hauled down; that no flag should be allowed to float in West Plains that countenances and tolerates heathen in our land. The Union men declared that the stars and stripes should not be lowered unless it was done over their dead bodies. Quite a number of Union men had assembled under the flag. The Union men were led by a man named Captain Lyle. He had been warned and cautioned by his friends not to open his mouth, for the reason that he would be shot full of holes. Late in the evening there was a lull in the speaking. The author walked up into the speaker's stand, called the attention of the people, saw a number of rifles grasped in their hands, and announced to them that they had been sitting all day listening to Confederate speeches, but on the next Saturday, if they would meet him at Black's store, about ten miles west of West Plains, they could hear Union speeches and the constitution of the United States would be read; thanked the crowd and stepped down. Quite a number of guns were raised in the hands of parties and a shower of groans and hisses, and remarks openly from a number that "We ought to shoot his black heart out now."

It appeared for a while that it would be impossible to evade a conflict of arms. A number of orders being sent to the Union men to draw down their flag or they would fire on it and the men who supported it, an answer was returned that the rebels were requested to draw down their flag as it was a stranger in the land and unless they lowered their flag the stars and stripes wouldn't be lowered an inch, unless it was done over their dead bodies. At last a proposition came that they would agree for the sake of averting bloodshed to commence lowering both flags at the same time which proposition was accepted; so wound up that day's proceedings.

On the Saturday following, the author, with several other Union speakers, met at Black's store where there were several rebel captains and lieutenants. The author made a speech in favor of remaining in the Union and stated that the attempt to secede by some of the states would eventually result in sad disaster, besides bringing untold suffering upon the people. Several other Union speeches were made after which the author read the constitution of the United States and urged that all lovers of republican form of government would comply with the demand of the supreme law of the land and, if necessary, sacrifice property and life in defence of the same; so ended that day's proceedings.

McBride Establishes Military Law.

As the organization of the confederates proceeded they still grew more bitter against the Union men and declared, by meeting and passing resolutions, that every Union man should show his colors in favor of the South or be hung as high as Hamen. In the meantime the Union men had secretly organized and met together, to take into consideration as to the time when they should act.

The prevailing sentiment was, that they should remain dormant and let the rebels shed the first blood, while the minority thought the time had come for action, and that they ought to act before the rebels crippled them and tied them up in such a manner that, when the time did come, they would be entirely helpless and at their mercy.

McBride, who had been elected judge of the 18th Judicial circuit, which included Howell county, whose home was in Texas county, was made Brigadier General of the Confederate forces and commenced organizing and massing his troops. On the arrival of the federal troops at Rolla, Missouri, he became fearful that they would attack him, rout him and destroy his forces, so he concluded to march south to West Plains and make his headquarters at that place until he could organize his forces and prepare for marching west, where he intended to join the forces of Gen. Sterling Price and Gen. McCullough who then were massing their forces to march on Springfield, Missouri, to attack the federal forces who were then stationed at Springfield under the command of Gen. Lyon and Gen. Seigle. On his arrival at West Plains he opened up headquarters, issued his proclamation that all Union men or any men that were unfriendly to the Confederate cause should come in and take the oath and the civil law was declared to be suspended and the military law completely in force.

Then was when the dark day and trouble began to hang over the Union people. As soon as it was known that the civil law was suspended little bunches of rebels organized all over the country and also in the state of Arkansas. In a short time after Gen. McBride's arrival in West Plains a man who was a door neighbor to the author came into his field where he was cutting wheat, asked him if he had seen the order of McBride. My answer was "No." He remarked, "Well, he has made a general order, requiring all Union men, especially those who have been open and active in behalf of the Union, to come in and take the oath, and unless they do they are going to hang them as high as Hamen." The author replied to him that he was a Union man and he knew it; he had been open and outspoken for the Union and had voted for McBride when he was elected Judge, but now he thought he was acting outside of the law and humanity.

I had neither violated the law of my land nor harmed any man and I didn't consider that McBride had any right to order me to take an oath to take up arms against my country or support those who had taken up arms. If this did become a general war, I thought they were making a blunder, for the Government, or the lopeared Dutch, as they termed them, would have the advantage in the way of transporting forage and commissaries and amunitions of war, while the Confederates would have to rely mostly for their resources upon the county; that I was a peace officer and while I was a strong Union man wasn't taking up arms and I thought that those who wanted to fight, if there had to be a fight, should go out into the open fields, and not force the war onto non-combatants, and that the country would suffer enough at best. Now you know I am a Union man, and I know that you are in favor of the Confederate cause, and I think this is the course that ought to be pursued at the present time. The Confederates are in control of the country, and they will come around and say they must have forage for the support of the army, and ask you if you know of any Union men; you could tell them, "My neighbor right here is a Union man, but he is not disposed to take up arms and go into the fight; take as little from him as you can possibly do with, and as little from myself; in return, if this war goes on, and the Federal authorities extend their jurisdiction, they would be out hunting rebels for the purpose of getting forage and commissaries, and I could say to them that my neighbor here is a rebel but take just as little as possible from him, and as little as possible from me, as we are going to have a hard time to get through the war any way. But if you pursue the policy you say has been adopted by the Confederates, you will force all non-combatants into arms or drive them from the country and completely depopulate it." He burst into a big laugh and remarked, "Your promises are like a broken stick, you will never see the lopeared Dutch in this country." I said to him, "My friend, if this war goes on, before the end of it you will see what you call lopeared Dutch as thick as blackbirds;" and we separated.

General Lyons Drives Rebels from Rolla.

About June 10, 1851, the rebels were having a big meeting at Rolla, Phelps county, Missouri, for the purpose of recruiting. General Lyons at St. Louis, learned of the meeting, and at once placed quite a force in the cars, well armed and closed them up so they would not be detected and started for Rolla with the intention of capturing the whole outfit.

On the day set for the rebel meeting, quite a number of them had assembled and a certain young lawyer was delivering an address, telling them that one southern man could whip five lopeared Dutch and all they wanted was just an opportunity; in the meantime Lyon's forces had reached Dillon, the next station east of Rolla about five miles distant. There the forces were taken from the cars and divided, some marching southwest and the others northwest, making a flank movement for the purpose of surrounding the whole place. While they were marching some person, who was a rebel, went with all the speed possible and informed the meeting that the Dutch were right upon them; that the woods were full of them and to get out of there as quick as possible, if they wanted to save their lives.

The lawyer who was addressing them sprang from the speakers stand and holloing at the top of his voice as he went, "Get away from here, the Dutch are upon us." It was said that the lawyer ran so fast that if a glass of water had been sat upon his coat tail it would not have spilled. They scattered to the woods in all directions. The Federal force came in; but their birds had all flown and left the citizens who had remained to tell the sad tale.

The rebel forces at once retreated to Salem, Missouri, where they again concentrated their force. The Federal scout, in a few days followed them to Salem, and there again routed them and they retreated directly to West Plains, joining the command of McBride at that place. The rebels, hurriedly, concentrated their forces from all the south and southeastern counties of Missouri and from the northern counties of Arkansas.

General McBride made an order to gather all the arms, amunitions, and horses that were fit for the service, as speedily as possible and the report was put in circulation that he had given the county over to the leading rebels, who resided in it, whose action, whatever they did touching the Union men, would be indorsed and carried out by General McBride. The leading rebels of the county at once sent out word that they were going to take all the arms, amunition and available horses from the Union men and that McBride required each and every one of them to report and take the oath at once, and if they failed to comply with said order, speedy action would be taken against them.

They would either be arrested, imprisoned or forced into the Confederate army to fight and their leaders would be hung.

On the issuing of the said order the wildest excitement prevailed among the Union men. They immediately met for the purpose of consultation as to what their final action would be. There were divers opinions among them; some of them were for acting at once; others (and a majority of them) were in favor of waiting until the rebels shed the first blood. Those who refused to report and take the oath had to place themselves in hiding at once. The rebels made a general move to raid, harass and capture the Union men. Then real danger confronted a man who claimed to be a Union man. The rebels had made a general amnesty, upon the condition that they would join the Confederate army and become loyal to the Confederate States. About two-thirds of the men who had been open and avowed Union men saw the danger that confronted them, and joined the Confederate army and claimed that they would be loyal to its cause. The remainder of the Union men were disarmed at once, except those who kept themselves concealed in the mountains and hills.

After they had completely disarmed them and forced many of them to join the Confederate service, had taken most of their horses, cattle and hogs for the use of the army, the leading rebels in the county claimed that they had organized for the purpose of ridding the country of all Union men who had refused to join the Confederate forces; that when McBride moved west he was going to leave the whole matter in their hands, and they intended to string up the Union men to limbs and shoot them, so they would soon be rid of the class of men who were friends of the lopeared Dutch and were nigger lovers.

The Testing of Loyal Hearts.

Small bunches of rebel troops came in from Arkansas and joined the bands that were raiding the country, and the Union men were hunted like wild beasts. Then set in the darkest day that ever any class of patriots, true to their government, had to confront.

The author remembers well when the Union men would meet together, that they took the proposition made by McBride into consideration, and it was discussed pro and con. Some men would say, "While I am a Union man and for the government, all that I have in the world is here in Howell county; my little home, my property and, above all, my wife and children. They have promised us protection provided we will join the rebel army. Had we not better accept the proposition and wait for results?" Others would arise, with tears dripping from their eyes, and remark that this state of affairs is hard indeed. "Can I afford to abandon my wife and children that I love so well and leave them unprotected in the midst of an open state of war, at the mercy of a mad and distracted people, who are thirsting for the loyal blood of the nation, and be alienated from them, perhaps, never more to see them?" Others would arise and remark that "We have seen this danger coming for months and we are satisfied that the worst has not come, and I know that I love my wife, my family, my little children, as I love my own heart; I love to meet them around my fireside and enjoy their sweet company, and I have delighted in laboring to furnish them food and raiment and shelter while they were growing into manhood and womanhood, but I have read and heard read that my highest duty was to God and my second duty was to my country; and the organic law of the nation requires at my hands that whenever it becomes necessary to preserve my government, that I owe to it my life, my honor and the welfare of my family; and the trying ordeal is now at hand and I don't know what the final result will be—if I am forced away from my family, I know they will be left at the mercy of an intolerant and unrelenting enemy, but I now and here lay my life, my family, my property and my future happiness upon the altar of my country, and let come what will, weal or woe, I intend, with all my feeble effort, to defend the stars and stripes, and stand up openly and courageously in defense of and for the preservation of the Union." That proposition prevailed and was unanimously adopted by the Union men.

At this time there was no government aid in reach of these loyal hearts, that were controlled by nothing but love of country. Uncle Sam could do nothing for them. They were completely surrounded in an enemy's country, and while they (the men), with what arms they had preserved, could by strategy evade the arrest and slaughter of themselves, their families were completely at the mercy of a mad and howling mob, thirsting for the blood of Union men.

While the loyal men in the North were enlisting in the interest of their country, Uncle Sam paid them $13.00 per month, clothed them, and their families were left in the care of friends; they knew nothing about the war, except what they read; but not so with the Union men who were surrounded in an enemy's country. They, without a single word of protection or comfort from the government for themselves or their families, but their love and devotion to their country led them to furnish themselves, to leave their families as best they could, at the mercy of a howling mob, for the defense of their country.

Rebels Defeated in Douglas County.

The loyal men in Douglas county and the north part of the county of Ozark were in the ascendency. A rebel force organized from the county of Howell, Missouri, and Fulton county, Arkansas, wanting to have some fun hunting Union men, learned that on Bryant's Fork on the north fork of White river in Ozark county there was a bunch of Union men. So they armed and equipped themselves, furnished themselves ropes, and marched to hunt the place these men were said to be. The Union men hearing of their intention hurriedly prepared a temporary barricade around the house, and about sixty of them gathered together with their squirrel rifles in readiness to repel the attack in case it was made. The rebel scout consisted of two hundred and fifty men.

Early in the morning reliable information reached the Union men that the rebel forces were well under way and would reach them some time in the afternoon. One of the Union men, who had always borne the reputation of being a brave man and would fight anything, became impatient as the time drew near that they were to be attacked. He had been a great hunter and was considered a first-class shot, and he remarked to the Union men, "I can't wait for the rebels to attack us, I want to get a shot at one so bad with Old Betsy (his gun). I know of a bald knob, about a quarter of a mile from here, where the rebel force is bound to pass. I am going there; place yourselves in waiting, and when you hear 'Old Betsey' belch, you may know there is one dead rebel, and be certain that they are coming." In about an hour after the man referred to had left, the rebel advance came in sight, but they never heard "Old Betsy" belch. They vigorously attacked the Union men inside their fortifications, and after fighting for about an hour, they retreated, leaving one man dead upon the field and one wounded. The Union men received no injury whatever. They became very uneasy in regard to their friend and "Old Betsy," supposing he had fallen into the hands of the enemy and they had used the rope on him. Search was made all along the line of march of the rebels for the missing man, but no information could be learned of his whereabouts. However, in about one week, news came from Douglas county that their friend and "Old Betsy" arrived safely at another rendezvous of Union men in Douglas county, about forty miles distant, and reported that the Union men had had a fight with the rebels, and they were all captured or killed, with the exception of himself, and he had made his escape after the fight.

Just before McBride broke camps to march west to join Gen. Price and Gen. McCullough, he made a general order that they arrest and seize every Union man possible, and after he left the country, that the committee who had been organized to take charge of the county, would at once exterminate every Union man who had failed to take the oath or to join the Confederate army, giving them full power as to what disposition they would make of them.

Rebels Capture Col. Monks.

On the 7th of July, 1861, one of my neighbors came to me and informed me that the time had come that every Union man had to show his colors and unless they reported and took the oath or joined the Confederate army, they would hang as high as Haman. While the Union men were on their guard and watching their movements, once in a while they would slip in home to see how the family was getting along. My family at that time consisted of a wife and four children, three girls and one boy. My wife had never been accustomed to staying alone and I came in home late on the evening of the 7th, thinking that I would leave the next morning before daylight. Sometime after the family had retired, not far from 11 o'clock in the night, I was awakened by a rapping on the door. My wife, suspecting who the parties were, answered them, and demanded to know what was wanted; one of them, who claimed to be an orderly sergeant, remarked that he wanted to know if Monks was at home. She replied that he was not. A man by the name of William Biffle, whom the author had been acquainted with for years, replied, "He is here, I know, for I coursed him into this house late yesterday evening." The author at once arose to his feet and remarked, "I am here, what is wanted?" A man by the name of Garrett Weaver, who claimed to be an orderly sergeant and in charge of the squad, also a neighbor to the author said, "I have been ordered by Gen. McBride to arrest you, bring you in and make you take the oath." I owned at that time a first-class rifle and there was also another rifle gun in the house. I took my gun into my hands and my wife took hold of the other gun. I told them that a general order had gone forth, so I was informed, that they wanted to hang all the leading Union men and "if that is your intention I will die before I surrender." Weaver replied they were not going to hang me, but they were just going to take me to McBride to take the oath and I should be protected. Upon those terms I agreed to surrender, made a light in the house and found that the house was surrounded by a posse of twenty-five rebels. As soon as the light was made, a part of them rushed into the house, took my gun and jerked the one my wife had in her hand out of her possession, almost throwing her to the floor, began a general search of the house for other arms and such things as they said the army needed.

As soon as I dressed, they ordered me to move. They didn't even give me time to say good-bye to my wife, nor to imprint a kiss upon the cheeks of my loving children. Closely surrounding me, they marched me about 250 yards, came to their horses, where two more of their posse guarded the horses, they having dismounted, to approach the house on foot so they might not be heard.

COL. MONKS ARRESTED AND TAKEN FROM HOME

"Billy, You Ought Not to be So Saucy."

When within a few feet of the horses the author was halted. It was just starlight. I noticed a man by the name of Wilburn Baker, a man with whom the author had been acquainted from a boy, go to the horn of one of the saddles, lift therefrom a coiled rope and move toward the author. The author quickly arrived at the conclusion that the time had come to enforce the order of hanging. Baker ordered the author seized by the arms, drew them behind him and securely tied him. The author asked, just as they had completed the tying, "What do you mean? Are you going to cage me?" Baker replied, "Billy, you ought not to be so saucy, for you don't know the danger you are in." I was at once ordered placed on a horse. One of the posse rode up to my side and placed the other end of the rope around his body and the posse moved west. A short time before daylight they arrived at the house of William Nicks, who was a rebel lieutenant. They dismounted and took the author into the house. There appeared to be a general rejoicing among them. Nicks said, "You have got him, have you? We had become uneasy about you, and thought it might have been possible that he had his Union forces around him and that you had met with disaster; but I feel satisfied that we have now captured the leader and the counselor of the Union forces and the remainder will be easily extinguished." Gen. McBride in the meantime, being uneasy for fear the Federal troops would attack him, had removed his forces from West Plains to the south part of Howell county, camping at what was known as the Flag pond.

I was closely guarded until daylight. McBride's forces had broken camp at the Flag pond on the morning of July 8th and were marching west with the intention of joining the forces of Gen. Price and Gen. McCullough, who were then moving in the direction of Springfield, Missouri, with the intention of attacking the Federal forces at that place, commanded by Gen. Lyon and Gen. Siegel. Very early on the morning of the 8th the party started in a southwest direction, with the author closely guarded. On coming near the head of Bennett's river, Fulton county, Arkansas, the posse commenced cheering and remarked: "Listen! Do you hear the drums and the fife? That is Gen. McBride's command moving west to kill them lopeared Dutch that you Union men have brought into the state of Missouri. Do you know what we are going to do with such men as you are? Those of you that we don't hang, the first fight that we get into with the lopeared Dutch, we will make breastworks out of to keep the bullets off of good men."

About one mile further we came in sight of the moving column. We rode along the line, when there was general cheering until we reached a company that was organized in Oregon county and commanded by Capt. Simpson. Simpson said, "Why have you brought a Union man in here alive! If my company had possession of him, he could not live ten minutes."

We soon reached a company commanded by Capt. Forshee which was organized in this county to whom the whole posse that made the arrest, belonged. The author was well acquainted with all of them and over half of them resided in the same settlement and were his neighbors. On reaching the company Captain Forshee walked out of the line and remarked to them "Why have you brought him in here alive?" Some of the posse remarked, that he had been a neighbor and they had all been friends up to the war and they hated to kill him. Forshee said "When I saw him at West Plains at the speaking when he got up and contended that there was a union and the government ought to be preserved, I wanted to shoot his black heart out of him and I feel the same way yet."

The author was kept in close confinement and on the night of the 8th the command went into camp near what is known as the old Steve Thompson farm. The author, with several other prisoners, was placed in the guard house and orders were given that he be closely guarded.

After they had taken their suppers, men that the author had been acquainted with from his boyhood, and men who had been acquainted with his relatives, came to the guard house in considerable numbers and remarked, "Hello, Monks?" "I never expected to see you under arrest." "What have you been doing that they have arrested you? I thought you was a good Democrat." "Have you left your party." "The Democratic party is in favor of the South." The author replied to them that when they thought he was a good Democrat they were right. But that he was not a slave to party and that he held country higher than party and if Democracy meant secession and nullification, that was one part of the principals of Democracy that he had never learned; that true Democracy, as understood by the author, taught every man that in case his country was invaded either externally or internally that he owed his honor and property in the support of it and for those reasons he was for the preservation of the Union at all hazards. Some remarked that "We ought to hang him right now without waiting any longer" Others remarked that "We have been acquainted with his people both on his mother's and father's side and they were all southern people and Democrats and they are all of them, almost, in favor of the South. It is strange indeed to see the course that he has taken." The author remarked that "There were always some shabby sheep in a flock and I suppose from your reasoning that I am one of them." They all retired, the officers giving orders that the most vigilant watch be kept over the prisoner. After he had retired a gentleman by the name of Joseph Teverbaugh who resided in Ozark county, a merchant and the owner of about twenty negroes, who had been well acquainted with the author from his boyhood, brought up the conversation as to what disposition they thought ought to be made of the author. The author could easily hear all the conversation inside of the guard line. Many opinions were expressed. Quite a number said, "Hang him outright." That was the only way to get shut of the Union men, to make short work of it, and forever rid the country of that element.

Others said that appeared to be too harsh, that they were in favor of taking him to Little Rock and confining him in the penitentiary until the war was over, for it wouldn't take but a short time to rid the country of the lopeared Dutch and those who were friends to them. Others remarked that "that would be too easy for a man who was in favor of the lopeared Dutch; that we are in favor of taking all like him right into the army and making them fight and if they won't fight, the first engagement we get into, pile them up and make breastworks out of them, so that they will catch bullets off of good men." At this juncture Teverbaugh remarked, "I have been acquainted with Billy from a boy and you never can force him to fight against what he believes to be right, that he was a good boy and since he has grown up to be a man he has been an honorable and straightforward man and quite an active man politically and my advice would be to confine him in the State Penitentiary until the war is over, for I tell you now if he ever gains his liberty you are going to have him to fight."

Sold as a Beef Cow.

On the morning of the 9th they broke camp and marched near the mouth of Bennett's river and went into camp at what was then known as Talbert's mill. A short time after we had been in camp Capt. Forshee, who had charge of the prisoners, came to the guard house and the author requested him that he be allowed to take the oath and return home, as his wife and children were almost scared to death owing to the reports that were currently circulated all through the country, his wife would believe they had hung him. The captain replied that they were not going to allow him to take the oath. They had plenty of proof against him, that he had been communicating to the lopeared Dutch and as soon as they had formed a junction with Price and McCullough he would be tried as a spy. He gave orders to the guard to see that he was kept in close confinement, and about 11 o'clock in the night as near as the author can guess, it being starlight, the Captain came down to the guard house in company with one of his men, Frank Morrison.

The author was lying on the ground pretending to be asleep. The Captain came inside of the guard, called out, "Monks, are you asleep?" The author raised up in a sitting position and said, "Captain what is wanted"? The Captain remarked, "I want you to go up to my camp fire," which was about 75 yards distance from the guard house. The author said, "Captain, this is a strange time of night to come down and order me to your camp fire." He said; "Not another word out of you, rise to your feet." He ordered Morrison to step behind him with the same gun that he had recently taken from the author and cock it and "if he makes a crooked step from here up to the camp fire shoot him through." The author heard Morrison cock the gun and about half way between the guard house and the camp fire the Captain remarked to the author, "Do you know Kasinger?" The author, suspecting that he was going to be delivered to a mob, said "I know him very well; we have grown up together from boys." The Captain said, "I thought he was a mighty nice man. I have sold you to him for a beef cow." The author remarked there was but one thing he was sorry for; that if he had known he was going to be delivered to a mob he never would have surrendered and had some satisfaction for his life. The Captain said, "I thought I was doing mighty well to sell a black Republican or a Union man for a beef cow where we have as many good men to feed, as we have here."

His camp fire was under a gum tree with a large top. The fires had all died down, it being in July and nothing but the stars were giving the light. On coming within two or three feet of the tree the Captain ordered the author to halt. He and Morrison walked about ten paces and said, "I have brought you up here to liberate you. We have got plenty of good men here to feed without feeding men who are friends to the lopeared Dutch." The author replied to the Captain, "you may think you are dealing with a fool. I have neither violated the civil nor military law; have demanded a trial and you refuse to give it to me. You can't bring me up here at this time of night and pretend to turn me loose for the purpose of escaping the responsibility of an officer and deliver me into the hands of a mob."

The Confederate Army or Hell.

The author was satisfied that he could then see a bunch of men standing in readiness. The Captain replied, "Sit down or you will be shot in half a minute." The author sat down and leaned against the tree. He had on strong summer clothing, wearing an alpaca vest and coat. In an instant, about twenty-five men, led by Kasinger, and a man by the name of William Sap, approached the author; Kasinger, holding a rope in his hand with a noose in it, walked up to the author, held the noose of the rope above his head and said, "Monks, you have half a minute to say you will join the army and fight, or go to hell, just which you please." The author replied that it was said that "hell was a hot place," but he had never been there, and that he had always been counted a truthful man until he had been arrested, and since his arrest he had been asked divers questions of the whereabouts of the lopeared Dutch, and that he had told them in every instance he knew nothing of them and had been cursed for a liar. "If I was to say that I would join the army and fight, I might have a cowardly set of legs and they might carry me away; and in the next place, I am a Union man, first, last and all the time. I suppose your intention is to hang me, and there is only one thing I am sorry for, and that is that I ever surrendered; but there is one consolation left, when you kill me you won't kill them all, and you will meet plenty of them that won't be disarmed as I am now."

Kasinger replied, "No damn foolishness, we mean business," and made an attempt to drop the noose over my head, which was warded off with my arms.

At this juncture the author appealed to the Captain for protection from the mob, saying that he was a prisoner, unarmed and helpless, and if he suffered him to be murdered by a mob his blood would be upon the Captain's head. No reply being made by the Captain, all of the parties being considerably under the influence of whiskey, Sap raised his left hand, pushed Kasinger back and remarked, "I have been shooting and wounding some of these black Republicans who are friends of the lopeared Dutch, but I intend to shoot the balance of them dead." At the same time he drew a pistol from his right-hand pocket, cocked it, stooped over, ran his fingers under the author's clothing, gave them a twist and commenced punching him around the chest with the muzzle of the revolver, and after, as the author thought, he had punched him some fifty or sixty times with the revolver, the author said to him, "William Sap, there is no question but that your intentions are to kill me, and you want to torture me to death. You know that if I was armed and on equal footing with you, you would not do this." He made a quick jerk with his left hand, intending to jerk the author upon his face, remarking to the Captain at the same time, "Captain, you promised him to us and we are going to take him." The author, with all force possible, leant against the tree, Sap's hold broke loose, tearing off all the buttons that were on the vest and coat.

A NARROW ESCAPE FOR COL. MONKS.

The author again appealed to the Captain for protection from the mob. The Captain then remarked to Sap, "Hold on for a moment, I will take a vote of my company as to whether we will hang him or not." The company at that time was lying on the ground, most of them apparently asleep. The Captain called out aloud to his company, "Gentlemen, I am going now to take a vote of my company as to whether we will hang Monks or not. All in favor of it vote, aye; all opposed, no." He then took the affirmative vote and the negative vote. They appeared, to the author, to be almost evenly divided. Sap again remarked to the Captain "You promised him to us, we have bought him and paid for him and he is ours."

The author again appealed to the Captain for protection. The Captain replied to Sap, "He claims protection and as I am an officer and he a prisoner I reckon we had better keep him until we reach McCullough and Price and then we will try him for a spy and there is plenty of evidence against him to prove that he has been writing to the lopeared Dutch and after he is convicted will turn him over and you men can take charge of him." At this juncture a brother in-law of the Captain said, "Captain, I have one request to make of you. I want you to take Monks in the morning and tie him hard and fast, with his face to a tree, and let me shoot with a rest sixty yards and show you how I can spoil a black Republican's pate." The Captain replied, "As soon as he is convicted you can have the gratification of shooting him just as often as you please."

The Captain and Morrison again took charge of the author, carried him back and delivered him to the guard with instructions to the guard to be diligent in keeping him closely confined so that he would have no possible chance of escape. On the morning of the 10th we broke camp and went into camp that night just beyond where Mountain Home now stands. Dr. Emmons, of West Plains, who was a strong Union man and who afterwards became captain in the 6th Missouri Cavalry, attempted to go through to the Federal forces but was pursued by the rebels, captured somewhere in Texas county and brought back to the camp. He was also a prisoner at the same time; but being a master mason, was paroled to the limits of the camp and on the night of the 10th made his escape and got through to the Federal lines, enlisted and was made captain. Of him we will speak later.

In Camp at Yellville.

On July 11th they broke camp and reached Yellville, Marion county, and on the 13th reached Carrolton, a small town in Arkansas, and went into camp. The author well remembers the spring. It ran out of the steep, rocky gulch and the branch ran a little south of west and a beautiful grove of timber surrounded the spring. The prisoners were marched down within a few feet of the spring and there placed under guard. As usual, the abuse that had been continually heaped upon the prisoners during the march was renewed and in a short time a man who was said to be from one of the counties north of Rolla, Mo., commenced making a speech and inciting and encouraging the soldiers to mob the prisoners at once; that he had disguised himself and entered the camps of the lopeared Dutch at Rolla, and that to his own personal knowledge they had men's wives and daughters inside of their camps, committing all manner of offenses possible, and that they were heathens; didn't resemble American people at all and that he would not guard nor feed any man who was a friend to them; that they ought to be killed outright.

The men who enlisted in the Confederate army from Howell and adjoining counties, before starting, went to the blacksmith shops and had them large butcher knives made; made a belt and scabbard and buckled them around them, and said that they were going to scalp lopeared Dutch. In a short time the tenor of the above mentioned speech had incited over 400 men and it had become necessary to double the guard. The grove of timber was filled with men and boys looking over, expecting to see the prisoners mobbed every minute. There was a man who drew his pistol, others drew knives and made different attempts to break lines and mob the prisoners. The man in possession of the pistol declared that he intended to shoot them. He was on an elevated place and they called him "Red," and there were three or four men holding him to prevent his firing. The author remarked to him that: "The time will soon come when you will meet men who are not disarmed. You had better save your bravery until you meet them, and my opinion is that you won't need any man to hold you then." Just about this time on the north side of the spring—the land dropped toward the spring, on a descent of about 45 degrees—the author heard the voice of a man ordering the guard to "open the lines and let these ladies come in." The author at once arose to his feet and spoke out in an audible voice to the guard to give away and let the ladies come in and see a Northern monkey exhibited, that the monkeys grew a great deal larger in the north than they did in the south. At this juncture it appeared to take one more man to hold Red who said that "he would kill the saucy scoundrel if it took him a week to do it."

When the posse came in we saw that the ladies were accompanied by eight or ten Confederate officers with about fifteen ladies. All the ladies carried small Confederate flags, the first ones that the author had ever seen. On coming very close to the prisoners they halted and one of the officers remarked, "These are the Union men that are friends to the lopeared Dutch. Couldn't you tie the knot upon them to hang them?" I think almost everyone spoke out and said "we could." After heaping other epithets and abuse upon the prisoners they and the officers retired outside of the line. The speaker was still talking, urging and insisting that the prisoners should be mobbed at once, that they should not be permitted to live.

At about this stage of the proceedings a man's voice was heard on top of the bank saying, "Men, I believe your intentions are to kill these prisoners. You have all started out to fight and you don't know how soon you might be taken prisoner and you would not like to be treated in any such manner; I know Billy, (referring to the author) and all you have against him is the political side that he has taken and I order the orderly sergeant to double the guard around the prisoners so there will be no possible chance for the mob to get through, and move with the prisoners south to a large hewed log house and place the prisoners therein, and place a guard around the walls and suffer no man to approach the house without an order from the officers."

As the prisoner began to move, the excited soldiers, who were wanting to mob them, brought out an Indian yell, and it appeared to the author he could almost feel the ground shake. After they were put into the houses, among the prisoners were some who were deserters, the author whispered to the Union men and told them to lie down close to them so that they could not distinguish from the outside one from another. The author was informed by Maj. William Kelley, of the Confederate army, who resides at Rolla, Phelps county, Missouri, at the present time, that he was the officer who made the order to remove the prisoners into the house and place a heavy guard around them to prevent their being mobbed. This ended the excitement for the evening.

The author had always been a believer in the realities of religion. About one-tenth of the officers appeared to be Baptist and Methodist preachers, and frequently when they would go into camp would call a large number of the men together and very often take the prisoners and place them near by under a heavy guard, and then convene religious services. They always took for a text some subject in the Bible and the author remembers well of the taking of the subjects in the book of Joshua, where Joshua was commanded to pass around the fortifications of the enemy and blow the ram's horn and the fortifications fell, and, the God of Joshua was the same God that existed to-day and there was no question but that God was on the side of the South and all they had to do was to have faith and move on, attack the lopeared Dutch and God was sure to deliver them into their hands.

The author could not help but add, in his own mind, that when the attack is made that God set the earth to shaking and all around where the lopeared Dutch are standing that the earth will open and swallow them up just leave their heads above the surface; so that those Confederates who were so furious could take their big knives and scalp the Dutch as they had said on divers occasions they intended to do.

Makes His Escape.

The author was determined to make his escape whenever the opportunity offered; and he could learn all about the whereabouts of the Federal soldiers from the excited Confederate scouts who would ride along the lines and say that the lopeared Dutch were as thick as rats at Springfield, Missouri, moving around in every direction and they might be attacked at any time and General McBride was looking every day to be attacked by the Federal forces to cut off his forming a junction with Generals Price and McCullough.

In about four or five days they reached Berryville, near where the Eureka Springs are, and went into camp just west of Berryville right at the spurs of the Boston mountain. The prisoners were placed in the guard house near a little creek that was then dry. Captain Forshee's company went into camp next to the company commanded by Captain Galloway of Howell county. As the weather was very hot and dry and the author had been marched barefooted (one of his shoes having worn out) until his feet were badly blistered, he was lying down, feigning sickness. The guard has become a little careless. Just about sundown heavy thunder set in the west. The clouds continued to increase, the elements grew very dark. In the mean time they had put out a chain guard all around the encampment and said guard was about thirty steps from guard house. The low lands were all bottom, covered with heavy timber and a large oak had fallen across the creek and reached from bank to bank and the bark had all slipped off. About thirty feet from the top of the tree the foot of a steep mountain set in. The guard fire was about sixty yards south of the guardhouse. The clouds soon came up and a heavy rain set in, with terrific thunder and lightning, and as the army had temporary tents the guards all crawled in under the tents and left the author by the fire. The rain soon quenched the fire.

The chain guard were walking up and down the dry creek and they met at the log referred to. The author thought now was his time to make his escape, if ever; knowing that he would have to have a shoe, slipped to one of the tents, got hold of a shoe, and then the thought struck him that he would like to have a revolver, but on further examination found their revolvers to be placed in such a position that it was impossible to get one without waking the men. He then slipped to the butt of the log and heard the guard meet at the log and turn again on their beat. He at once crossed on the log on the other side, walked into the brush, reached the foot of the mountain about twenty steps distant and halted. Everything appeared to be quiet, the release around the guard fire were singing, whooping and holloing.

The author then took the mountain which was about one quarter of a mile high, and it always has appeared to the author that he crossed the log and went up the mountain as light as a cat. On reaching the top, still raining heavily, the thought came into his mind that "I am once more a free man, but I am in an enemy's country, without friends," and at once determined in my mind to reach Springfield, Missouri, if possible. I sat down, pulled on the shoe that I had taken and it just fitted without a sock; I then procured a dead stick for the purpose of holding before me as I traveled for fear I would walk off of some steep cliff or bluff, as it was very mountainous.

Having the guard fire for a criterion I moved northwest, soon struck the leading road west that the army was marching on, traveled the road for about one mile, came onto the pickets, surrounded the pickets, struck the road again, traveled all night until just gray day, directly west or nearly so. A slow rain continued all night. As soon as it became light enough to see I found myself in a country completely covered with pine timber. I turned square from the road, went about 350 yards up to the top of a high knob, found about one quarter of an acre level bench. A large pine had turned out by the roots and the hole was partially filled with old leaves. The author always had been afraid of a snake but the time had come when he had more fear of a man than a snake, so he rolled himself down into the hole in the leaves and at the time had become chilled with the steady rain. About 9 or 10 o'clock, as well as the author could guess, he heard the beat of the drum which told that the army was marching on the same road that he had traveled in the night. In a short time the army passed where the author was lying in the sink. The author could have raised himself up and have seen the procession pass but he had seen them just as often as he wanted to and he remained still. Late in the evening a company of about 65 men passed. The author was informed afterwards that they had been detailed to make search for the prisoner, with orders if they found him, to shoot him at once. The author was further informed by Confederates who belonged to the command that as soon next morning as it was reported that the author had made his escape that the chain guard declared that no man could have passed between them and they were satisfied that the author was still inside of the lines.

They at once made a large detail and commenced searching. There were quite a large number of box elders with very heavy, bushy tops. They said every single tree, every drift and possible place of hiding, was examined. Orders were at once issued by the commander, who sent word back to the home of the author, that he had made his escape and to watch for him and as soon as he came in home to arrest him and either shoot him or hang him at once.

In the afternoon of the same day it cleared off and just as soon as dark came, the author was determined to try to reach Springfield, being in a strange country and knowing that if he was re-captured it would be certain death. He knew somewhere about the distance he had traveled west. He located the north star which he used as his pilot or guide and set out for Springfield, having no arms of any kind, not even a pocket knife and had become very hungry. He came to a slippery-elm tree, took a rock, knocked off some of the bark, ate it and proceeded on his journey, traveling all night. When gray day appeared again, he went to a hickory grub, broke the grub off with a rock, cut the top off with a sharp edged rock, to be used for a weapon, placed himself in hiding, remained all day. As soon as night came, again he proceeded on his journey, traveled no roads except when they run in direction of the north star. On the second morning he went into a small cave surrounded by a thicket, about 10 o'clock in the day he found that he was near enough to some rebel command to hear the drilling. As soon as dark came on he proceeded on his journey. The nights were dark and only star light until the after part of the night. He went near a spring house, but when he got to it, there wasn't a drop of milk in it. He passed through an Irish potato patch, grabbed two or three small Irish potatoes and ate them; passed through a wheat field, rubbed out some dry wheat in his hand, ate that; ate a few leaves off of a cabbage. On the third morning, went into hiding, remained until the darkness came again and resumed the journey.

On the morning of the 4th at daylight I had reached an old trace, pulled off my clothes and wrung them and put them on again as the dew was very heavy and every morning my clothes would be wet. I went about 30 or 40 yards from the old trace and thought to myself, if I saw any person passing that was not armed, that I would approach and learn where I was. Hadn't been there more than a half hour when I heard a wagon coming. As soon as the wagon came in sight I saw that there was a lady driving, accompanied by a small girl and boy, I got up and moved into the road, walked on, and met the wagon, spoke to the lady. She stopped the wagon and I asked her if she would be kind enough to tell me where I was, that I had got lost, traveled all night and didn't know where I was. She told the author that he was in Stone county, Missouri, and asked him where he was from. I told her that I was from the state of Arkansas. She wanted to know if there was much excitement there. I told her that there was; that men were enlisting and going into the Confederate service and the people were generally excited over the prospect of war. I asked her if there was any excitement in this country. She replied that there was—that the rebels a day or two ago had run in, on White River, and killed four Union men and drove out about 40 head of cattle and "that's why I am going out here in this wagon. My husband belongs to the home guards and has come in home on a furlough and is afraid to knock around the place for fear he will be waylaid and shot by the rebels."

I then asked her if she would allow me to ask her a civil question. She replied that she would. I asked her what her politics were, and she told me that she was a Union woman. I told her, then, that I would tell her the truth; that the rebels had had me prisoner and that I had made my escape from them and had been traveling only in the night time; that this was the fourth morning since I had made my escape, and I asked her how far it was to the house; that she was the first person I had spoken to since I had made my escape. She said it was about 350 yards around the point, to go on down to the house, and as soon as she got some light wood she would be back. I went to the house, halloed at the fence, a man came to the door and invited me in. I walked in, and at once I began to look for arms, and to my great delight I saw a Springfield musket lying in the gun rack, with a cartridge box with the letters U. S. on it. O! the thrill of joy that passed through my mind. I had often heard the old adage quoted, that "a friend in need is a friend indeed," but had never before realized its full meaning. In a short time the lady returned. She went to work cooking, soon had me something to eat, but I had almost lost my appetite, having fasted so long.

After I ate something and while she was preparing provisions to carry with me the man told me there was but one place that we could cross White river without being placed in great danger of being captured by the rebels, for they were patrolling up and down the river every day. I told him I never had attempted to travel a foot in daylight since I had made my escape. He told me he thought if we could get safely across the river, he knew of an old trace that led across the mountains and intersected Taney county and as soon as we reached that settlement they all belonged to home guards and a man would be in no danger in making himself known.

The woman baked enough biscuit and tied up bacon and red onions with them, the author thought, to have lasted a hungry man three days, for him to carry with him and we at once, after taking leave of the good woman followed by her best wishes that I would get through to the Federal lines safely, started for White river, about two miles distant. Just before reaching the river he left the author standing in the road, went into the house near by and soon came out with two other men in company with him. On reaching the river where there was a canoe tied to the bank they stepped aside by themselves, held a short consultation; then all got into the canoe, carried me across the river, piloted me across the river bottom to where the old trace left the bottom; there we separated, they hoping that I would get through to the Federal lines safely. They didn't think there was any danger in traveling in daylight, because there wasn't a single settlement for the entire distance of 25 miles.

The author traveled on until dark had overtaken him. The moon gave no light until the after part of the night. The author laid down by the side of the road, took a nap, after the moon came up proceeded on his journey and in about two miles came to a house. Hallooing at the gate, a lady came to the door and said: "Come in." They appeared to have a very savage dog. I remarked to the lady that I believed the dog would bite me and noticed at the same time that she stood off to one side of the door. She remarked: "Go in; that dog will not bite you." As I stepped into the door I was confronted by a man standing in the middle of the floor in his night clothes with his old Springfield musket cocked and presented and he called out, "Halt!" The author halted, of course, and the next remark was, "Who are you and where is the balance of your crowd?" The author replied: "There is no balance of them and there is not much of myself left. The Confederates have had me prisoner and I have made my escape from them and I am now trying to reach Springfield, Missouri."

The man ordered his wife to strike a light, and after viewing the author critically, placed his Springfield musket near the bed and invited the author to take a seat, while he dressed himself. Being not more than two hours until daylight, his wife asked me to go to bed and rest. I told her that I wasn't fit to lie in bed; that I had lain on the ground like a hog ever since I had been arrested. She said that it didn't matter how dirty a Union man was, he was welcome to sleep in her bed, and to lie down and she would proceed at once to get breakfast; that there were some refugee wagons, about two miles distant, making their way to Springfield, and that she would have me up in time to reach them. Accordingly, after eating breakfast before daylight, and starting with the purpose to reach the wagons before they broke camp, the man remarked to the author, "My captain lives just this side of where the wagons are camped and I know he would love to see you and learn about the movements of the rebels."

When we got to the house, he hallooed and the captain came out, asked the author his name, where he lived and when he was taken prisoner. The author gave him his name and place of residence, and on learning that he was from Howell county, asked him if he was acquainted with a man by the name of Washington Galloway. The author informed him that he was well acquainted with him. He inquired as to which side he was on, the Confederate or Union. The author informed him that he was on the rebel side and was a captain commanding one of the rebel companies; that I saw him and had had a conversation with him on the evening before I made my escape. He said, "He is an own brother of mine. My name is Jesse Galloway;" and the tears ran from his eyes like a whipped child. He said, "Get down; you are not in a condition to travel any further at the present time." He gave me a change of clothing and had my clothes washed and sent me through to Springfield by one of his men on horseback.

About three weeks after I left him the rebels slipped up near his house, lay in ambush, and when he came out into the yard they shot him to death while he was holding an innocent child in his arms.

Arrives at Springfield.

On reaching Springfield, I was conducted directly to the head quarters of Gen. Lyon, gave him all the information in my possession and told him I had been entirely stripped, had no means with me for support and I would like to join the army. He remarked to me, "I don't want you to join the army; we intend to move south next spring and you are one of the men that will be in great demand. We have a position for you and the Government will pay you good wages."

A short time after I arrived I met a man by the name of Percy, a lawyer, who resided at West Plains, a bitter rebel, who was in there as a spy. I was alone and there were very few persons that I was acquainted with living in Springfield. Percy had been posing as a Union man and offered that if I would go with him, he would carry me safely through home; tried to get me to agree to go outside the lines with him after dark, but knowing that he was a bitter rebel and had been taking an active part in the rebel movement I discarded him as quick as possible. In a day or two Benjamin Alsup, who resided on Hutton Valley, Howell county, happened to meet him in town, and he being acquainted in and about Springfield, had him arrested at once. A man by the name of Moore, who was a strong Union man, lived about two miles from Springfield on the Wilson creek road took me home with him for the purpose of resting up. He was the owner of a fine dapple gray gelding four years old. He made Gen. Lyon a present of him. About five days before the Wilson Creek battle it was reported that the Rebels were on Cane creek, west of Springfield, in considerable force. Gen. Lyon moved out with a considerable force, riding the same horse, but on seeing the federal forces approaching they retreated. On the 8th day of August the rebels appeared in large force, being commanded by Gen. Price and Gen. McCullough.

General Lyon Killed at Wilson Creek.

Gen. Lyon sent out scouts with glasses for the purpose, if possible, of ascertaining their number. The rebels had gone into camp about ten miles from Springfield, with the avowed purpose of attacking Gen. Lyon the next day at Springfield, and as the scouts were not able with their glasses to see the largest force of rebels, which was encamped around a point out of sight, reported as to what they thought the number was. Lyon and Siegel came to the conclusion that by strategy they could easily whip them, so on the morning of the 10th, about midnight, they broke camp at Springfield, taking all of their available men. The morning being very foggy and misty, they easily surrounded the pickets and took them prisoners without the firing of a gun, then drew up and fired the artillery into them before they knew they were there.

So the memorable fight known as the battle of Wilson Creek was begun. Gen. Lyon rode the horse above referred to at the time he fell on the battlefield. Both the Confederate and Union side were founding all their future hopes upon the result of that battle, as to settling the question in Missouri. The author heard the artillery all day. Late in the evening word came to the Union men that Gen. Lyon had been killed and that the Federal army was retreating in the direction of Rolla, Missouri, and that all the Union men and the home guard would fall in and meet them at once. O! the scene that followed. Men would hurriedly ride around, meet their wives and children, tell them that the battle was lost and they were then retreating and they had only time to come around and bid them good-bye, and to do the best they could; that they didn't know that they would ever be permitted to see them again. We could hear the wife and children crying and sending up the most pitiful petitions to God to have mercy.

Everything on the Union side appeared to be dark, although it was a drawn battle and the rebels commenced retreating at the same time, and retreated about twenty-five miles west, but on learning that the Federal troops were retreating, they faced about, taking possession of the battle-ground and all of the southern and western portion of the state; and then the rebels, being encouraged by the late victory, determined to rid the country of all Union men at once.

About that time about 350 men mostly from Oregon county commanded by two very prominent men, made a scout into Ozark county, Missouri. On reaching the North fork of White river they went into camp at what was known as Jesse James' mill. The owner, a man of about 55 or 60 years of age, as good a man as resided in Ozark county, was charged with grinding grain for Union men and their families; at the time he, and a man by the name of Brown, were cutting sawlogs about two miles from home in the pinery. They went out and arrested them, arrested an old man by the name of Russell and several others, carried them to a man's house, who was a Union man, and had fled to prevent arrest. They took Brown and James about 300 yards from the house, procured a rope, hunted a long limb of a tree, rolled a big rock up to the first rope where it was tied to the limb, placed the noose around James' neck, stood him on the rock, rolled the rock from under him and left him swinging, rolled the rock to the next rope, stood Brown on it, placed the noose around his neck, rolled the rock out and left Brown swinging in the air, went to the third rope, placed Russell on the rock, and just as they aimed to adjust the noose, word came that the home guards and Federals were right upon them in considerable force. They fled, leaving Russell standing upon the rock and both Brown and James dangling in the air.

HANGING JESSE JAMES AND MR. BROWN.

Their Wives and Other Women Bury Them.

Every Union man now having fled in fear of his life, the next day the wives of Brown and James, with the help of a few other women, buried them as best they could. They dug graves underneath the swinging bodies, laid bed clothing in the graves and cut them loose. The bodies fell into the coffinless graves and the earth was replaced. So the author is satisfied that the bones of these men still remain in the lonely earth underneath where they met their untimely death with no charge against them except that they had been feeding Union men, with no one to bury them but their wives and a few other women who aided.

Some of the men who were in the scout and present when the hanging was done are still living in the counties of Howell and Oregon.

A General Jackson Soldier Shot Down.

A short time after this hanging there was a man by the name of Rhodes, who resided on the head of Bennett's Bayou in Howell county. He was about eighty years of age and had been a soldier under General Jackson. His head was perfectly white and he was very feeble. When he heard of the hanging of Brown and James he said openly that there was no civil war in that, and that the men who did it were guilty of murder.

Some two weeks from the date of the hanging of Brown and James, about twenty-five men, hearing of what he had said, organized themselves and commanded by Dr. Nunly and William Sapp, proceeded to the house of Rhodes, where he and his aged wife resided alone, called him out and told him they wanted him to go with them. His aged wife came out, and being acquainted with a part of the men, and knowing that they had participated in the hanging and shooting of a number of Union men, talked with them and asked: "You are not going to hurt my old man?" They said: "We just want him to go a piece with us over here." Ordering the old man to come along, they went over to a point about one quarter from the house and informed him of what he had said. There they shot him, cut his ears off and his heart out. Dr. Nunly remarked that he was going to take the heart home with him, pickle it and keep it so people could see how a black republican's heart looked.

They left him lying on the ground, proceeded directly to Joseph Spears', who resided about six miles west of town on the Yellville road, declaring that they were going to treat him the same way. They reached his house about two hours in the night, all full of whiskey. When they arrived there Spears was sick in bed. They dismounted, came in, ordered their suppers and their horses fed. Spears at that time owned a negro man, and he ordered him to put up the horses and feed them, and his wife to get them supper. After supper, they concluded to remain until morning. During the night they became sober, and concluded, since Spears owned a "nigger," that it could not be possible that he was a Union man, and the reports that they had heard that he was a Union man might be untrue, and they would let him alone until they could investigate further.

CUTTING OUT RHODES' HEART.

In the meantime, Rhodes not having returned home, and not a single Union man left in the country that Mrs. Rhodes could get to look after him, and having heard when they reached Joseph Spears' that the old man was not with them, although very feeble, she still continued the search; on the second day, about fifty yards from the road and about a quarter of a mile from home, while she was looking for him, she heard hogs squealing and grunting as though they were eating something. She proceeded to the place and found the hogs were just about to commence eating the remains of her husband. The Union men having fled, she notified some of the neighbors, and the women came in and helped dress the body and buried him the best they could; and neither at the taking down or burial of Brown and James and the burial of the old man Rhodes did a single rebel put in an appearance.

There never was a man arrested by the Confederate authorities, or a single word of condemnation uttered, but as far as could be heard there was general approval. It was said that the means used were desperate, but that was the only way to get rid of the men and strike terror to them so they could neither give aid nor countenance to the lopeared Dutch.

Benjamin Alsup Taken to Little Rock.

In a few days following they proceeded to arrest Benjamin Alsup, residing in Hutton Valley, who was a strong Union man, took him to Little Rock, placed him in the state penitentiary, and kept him there until after Little Rock fell into the hands of the Federals, when they exchanged him with other prisoners. While they had him in prison they worked him in a bark mill by the side of an old mule, with a strap around his breast and two leather hand holds. He pulled so much in the mill that his little finger was calloused and he almost entirely lost the use of it.

After they had hung, shot, captured and driven from the country all of the Union men, they called a public meeting for the purpose of taking into consideration what should be done with the families of the Union men, which meeting had a number of preachers in it. After discussing the premises, they arrived at the conclusion that if they let the families of the Union men, who had escaped and gone into the Federal lines, remain, they would return and bring in the lopeared Dutch. They didn't believe that both parties could ever live together, and as they now had the country completely rid of the Union men, they would force their families to leave. They at once appointed men, among whom were several preachers, to go to each one of the Union families and notify them that they would not be allowed to remain; because if they let them stay, their men would be trying to come back, and they didn't believe both parties could live together. They stated at the same time that they were really sorry for the women and children, but nobody was to blame but their husbands and sons, who had cast their lot with the lopeared Dutch. Also, as they had taken up arms against the Confederate states, all the property they had, both real and personal, was subject to confiscation and belonged to the Confederate authorities; but they would allow them to take enough of the property to carry them inside of the lines of the lopeared Dutch, where they supposed their men were and where they then could care for them.

Loyal Women Driven From Their Homes.

They said they might have a reasonable time to make preparations to leave the country, and if they didn't leave, they would be forced to do so, if they had to arrest them and carry them out.

The wildest excitement then prevailed among the women and children. They had no men to transact their business and make preparations to leave. Little had they thought, while they were chasing, arresting, hanging and shooting their men, that they, too, would become victims of the rebel hatred and be forced to leave house and home, not knowing where their men were or whether they were dead or alive. All they knew of their whereabouts was, that those who escaped arrest had left their homes, aiming to reach the nearest Federal lines.

Women were at once dispatched to reach the nearest Federal lines, if possible, and inform them of the Confederate order, and procure help to take them out. Their homes and houses were being continually raided by small bands of Confederates roaming over the country, claiming that they were hunting Union men, taking all classes of property that they might see proper to take, without any restraint whatever.

When the Union men heard that an order had been made requiring their families to leave, not thinking that a thing of that kind would ever occur, having left them with comfortable homes and plenty to eat, the wildest consternation reigned amongst them.

The Federal authorities were willing to give them aid, but were placed in such a condition that they needed every man in the field, and for that reason couldn't give them any help in getting out. The women had to speedily fit up as best they could, close their doors and start for the Federal lines, leaving the most of their property in the hands of the rebels. The rebels proceeded at once to take possession of and occupy most of the homes.

The suffering that followed the women and children is indescribable. They had to drive their own teams, take care of the little ones, travel through the storms, exposed to it all without a man to help them, nor could they hear a single word of comfort spoken by husband, son or friend. On reaching the Federal lines, all vacant houses and places of shelter were soon filled, and they were known and styled as refugees. Many of them went into soldier huts, where the soldiers had wintered and covered the tops of their huts with earth. They had to leave home with a small amount of rations, and on the road the rebels would stop them and make them divide up the little they had started with, and reaching the Federal lines they would be almost destitute of food and many of them very scantily clothed.

MRS. MONKS AND CHILDREN BEING DRIVEN FROM HOME.

They would at once commence inquiring for their husbands and sons. Numbers of them never found them, as they had been captured, killed and imprisoned while attempting to reach the Federal lines. O! The untold misery that then confronted them! After they had traveled and half starved and suffered from cold and exposure, promising themselves that when they reached the Federal lines they would again meet their loved ones who could again care for them, they were doomed to disappointment, in a large number of instances.

Those who did meet their husbands and sons were also disappointed; they had either joined the service or been employed by the government as guides and scouts, and the small amount of pay they received from the government, wouldn't provide food and raiment for their families. They were compelled to still be absent from their families, although they were suffering greatly for all of the necessaries of life and for clothing and shelter. The women's task of caring for and looking after the family and the little ones was just as great after they had reached the Federal lines as before. The government ordered that wherever aid could be given, rations should be issued to the families, and while the government did all it could in this way, it was not able to furnish shelter and houses for their comfort. Winter came on and they underwent untold suffering; disease set in from exposure, besides the contagious diseases of smallpox and measles, and hundreds of them died for want of proper attention, while their men were in the lines of the service of the government.

Here let the author speak a word in behalf of the devotion and patriotism manifested by those loyal women who had given their husbands and their sons to be placed upon the altar of the country, and sacrificed their homes and their firesides, had become exiles and wanderers, without home or shelter, had undergone untold suffering, had faced disease and death, had seen the little ones die, calling for papa, shivering with cold, suffering with hunger—all for the love of their country. Yet when they would see the Federal troops move by, with the stars and stripes unfurled, they would cheer the boys in blue as they would pass, and urge them to save the country they loved so well and had made so many sacrifices for and were still willing to suffer and wrestle with all the ills that a desperate war had brought upon the country, and wanted to live to once more be returned to their own hearthstones and be permitted to live under their own vine and fig tree, where no man dare molest them or make them afraid, to again enjoy all the sweet comforts of life.

We revere and honor every Federal soldier who enlisted in the interest of his country from the Northern States, where they knew nothing about war except what they read, their families being left in comfortable circumstances, with plenty to eat and wear and friends to speak works of comfort to them, while their husbands and sons had gone to the front and were willing to sacrifice themselves on the altar of their country, if it became necessary. But O! the comparison between the sacrifices made by the loyal element in those portions of the country where they were completely surrounded by the enemy.

Those who were willing to lay upon the altar of their country, their fathers and sons, their wives and children, their property and their sacred honor in support of the government they loved so well, with no protection from the government; no arms, amunitions, rations, clothing or pay from the government, was thought of for a moment. The only question that prompted, ruled and controlled them was their patriotism to their God and their country. When we come to compare the sacrifices, privations, suffering and services between the two classes of loyalists the first referred to, sink into insignificance.

O! never let us forget to honor and revere patriotism and sacrifices that were made by the loyal men and women that were surrounded in the enemy's country and continual fighting without and within. Their husbands and sons were shot and hung and imprisoned all over this country, whose bodies never were even honored with a burial. Orders being made by the rebels that they should not be buried; but yet they live and speak in thunder tones to the living. Let us plead with the living to revere and honor the stars and stripes that were maintained and supported by the blood and lives and sacrifices of the loyal men and women of the South.

After the rebels had completely driven all the loyal element out of the country and had but one political party left they exclaimed, "Now the means that we have been forced to use are very harsh but the line has been drawn and all of the parties who are giving aid and comfort to the lopeared Dutch are all outside of the Confederate line and we will never be troubled with them and the lopeared Dutch any more."

The author went back in retreat with General Siegel, after the Wilson Creek battle. On reaching Rolla, Missouri, Siegel went into quarters for the winter. The author was almost worn out with exposure and traveling, and as General Siegel informed him that there would be no advance made south until the spring of 1862, and as his family had been left in comfortable circumstances, with plenty to eat and wear, and he, being acquainted with some men by the name of Cope, who lived near Jerseyville in Jersey county, Illinois, went to that place, remained a month, and being taken sick with lung fever, came very near dying. He told his friends where he was staying that if he died, he would die dissatisfied; that he wanted to live and be able to move with the Federal command in the spring of 1862 when it moved south. After he had partially recovered he learned that a Mr. Cope, who was living neighbor to him at the time of his arrest and capture, had moved into Randolph county, Illinois. He visited the family at once, hoping to hear from his family at home, and remained there about a month. His wife, among many others, being notified to leave, had been informed that the author had made his escape, reached Springfield, and had gone back with Siegel in his retreat to Rolla. She was permitted to dispose of just enough of the property, at the rebels' own prices, to enable her to move, the family consisting of herself and five small children. She was followed on the road and her wagons searched for arms, and the rebels threatened to take her to Little Rock, Arkansas, but to enable her to reach Rolla, Missouri, she posed as the wife of a rebel who had gone into the Confederate service, and said she was trying to reach her father, who resided near Rolla. By making that impression, her wagons were not disturbed any more. On reaching Rolla, she went to Colonel Phelps, who was afterwards governor of the state, and inquired if he knew anything of the whereabouts of the author. He informed her that he had no knowledge of his whereabouts at that time, but he would take her name, place an advertisement of her arrival at Rolla, in the paper, and if he was alive it might reach him.

Every house and cabin was full, it being in the dead of winter, and a deep snow upon the ground, but through the aid and assistance of one Cyrus Newberry, who had escaped through the lines in Howell county, she procured a shelter about three miles north of Rolla, which was very uncomfortable; her clothes were partially frozen on her at that time. In a short time the advertisement reached the author in Randolph county, Illinois. He at once set out for Rolla, Missouri, to meet his family. The house that she had first got into was used by her but a short time, and she had been forced to go into one of the huts that had lately been occupied by the soldiers and had been made vacant by their moving west to Springfield.

On the arrival of the author, O! the horror and the joy that were intermingled! I was proud to once more meet my wife and children, but in a moment the thought would pass through my mind, "I left you in a comfortable home, with plenty to eat, and now to see you here in this 'dug-out,' suffering for food and shelter! O! the war, the horrible war! What is it that men won't do?" I set out at once to procure a comfortable shelter for my family and to get in readiness to move south with the army. Gen. Curtis, then in command of the western department, was preparing to make a general move south. I was employed by the government as a guide, receiving $1.50 per day, with rations and clothing.

Establishing a Federal Post at West Plains.

The army soon broke camp and moved southward. On arriving at West Plains, the Federal army located a post there. Capt. McNulty, of the First Illinois cavalry, who had been wounded in a battle with Gen. Mulligan, was made Provost Marshal. The author was at once detailed and placed in the Provost Marshal's office as assistant, as he was well acquainted with all of the people in the surrounding country. The Provost Marshal would order the author to be seated in a conspicuous place in the office, and as a general order had gone forth from Curtis requiring all rebels and rebel sympathizers to come in and take the oath, and as hundreds of them were daily coming into the office for that purpose, the Provost Marshal ordered the author to watch every person who entered the office and whenever any person entered who had been taking an active part in committing depredations, just to put his hand upon his forehead and move it down over his face, and he would order them to the guard house for further examination, without any further words being said at the time.

Many of the rebels who were taking the oath couldn't see how he could draw a line between the different persons; let some take the oath and be released at once, and others ordered to the guard house without a word being spoken. Among the persons who came in and took the oath and were released, was the man who was present at the time Capt. Forshee attempted to deliver the author to the mob, who asked the Captain at the time to tie the author with his face to a tree, and let him shoot him in the back of the head, to show him how he could spoil a black Republican's pate.

The author remembers one incident that occurred during the stay at West Plains. A man named Lusk, who was constable of Howell township, and resided in West Plains, was a strong Union man at the beginning of the war; when the general order was made that every man who had been a Union man had to join the Confederate service and show his colors or be hung, Lusk enlisted in the Confederate army and went out with McBride's command.

Three or four days after the capture of the author by the rebels, Lusk came up to him in a braggadocio manner and says, "You ought to have your black heart shot out of you." Lusk had taken the oath and been released before the author reached West Plains. The author met him in West Plains and remarked to him: "Hallo, Lusk! How are you getting along? And what are you doing here?" He replied that he had taken the oath; that he was tired of fighting. The author asked him if he felt like he did when he wanted to shoot his black heart out. Lusk replied: "Captain, I am sorry for what I did, and Captain Emmons so maltreated me the other day that I could scarcely sit in my saddle." The author remarked to him: "I will just give your face three good slaps with my hand." After giving him three raps, the author let him pass.

Lusk Sees Some Lopeared Dutch.

Soon meeting Captain Emmons, who belonged to the 6th Missouri Cavalry, had asked him what the trouble was between him and Lusk. He said that while he was prisoner Lusk came to him with his big knife belted around him, and said that he was just equal to ten lopeared Dutch and he had that knife for the purpose of taking ten Dutch scalps before he returned home, and otherwise abused him for being a Union man and a friend to the Dutch.

On the arrival of the troops in West Plains he inquired of the citizens if Lusk had returned home. They informed him that he had and was residing on Spring Creek, about six miles from town. About half of Emmons' company were Germans. He went immediately to his company, ordered the Orderly Sergeant to make detail of ten men and he wanted them all to be Germans. He ordered them to be mounted and ready for a scout at once. Taking charge of them in person he proceeded to the house of Lusk, about six miles west of West Plains at the head of Spring Creek, rode up to the house and holloed. Lusk immediately came out into the yard and recognized Dr. Emmons and said "O! Doctor! Is that you? I am proud to see you." The Doctor said to him, "I am proud to see you, too." The Doctor at once informed him of what he had said to him when he was a prisoner in regard to being equal to ten lopeared Dutchmen and how he had his knife prepared to take that number of scalps before he came back home, and wanted to know if he got the scalps before he came home. Lusk replied that if he killed a single Dutchmen he didn't know it and that he got all of the fighting that he wanted, didn't want to fight any more.

The Doctor wanted to know if he ever saw any lopeared Dutch and Lusk replied that he "didn't know that he had." The Doctor replied, "I have selected ten of the smallest sized of the full stock and I want you to step over the fence and view them." He then ordered the scouts to dismount and form in line. Lusk told the Doctor he didn't want anything to do with them whatever. After they had formed a line the Doctor made him step in front and view them; asked him what he thought of them. He said "They are good looking men." The Doctor said to him, "If you didn't get the chance when you were out in the service to fight ten of them, and you say you didn't get any scalps, I have brought these ten down and intend that you shall fight them." Lusk pleaded with the Doctor that he didn't want to fight them and for God's sake not to let them hurt him. Emmons said to him "Why Lusk! you said you were equal to ten of them and intended to bring back ten of their scalps and there will be nothing now unfair about this fight. I intend to give you a fair show." He ordered Lusk to get his horse and get onto it and get ready to march.

There were some four-foot clapboards stacked up near Lusk's house, and Emmons ordered six of the Germans to get a board apiece. They were all soon mounted and moving toward West Plains, soon coming to a "horsen" log. Emmons ordered them to dismount and form a line, placing the men about ten paces from Lusk, then said to Lusk, "Now, prepare yourself, and if you can whip these ten lopeared Dutch I will let you go back home and give you a chromo." Lusk pleaded pitifully to not let the Dutch abuse him. Emmons ordered the six who had the clapboards to move one pace in the rear, leaving four of the number to attack Lusk; he then ordered the four men to seize Lusk, take him to the "horsen" log and take down his clothes. Two of them were to take him by the hands and two by the legs and buck him tight against the log; if they succeeded, the six would proceed, one at a time, and strike him three licks across that part of the body that he generally used for sitting on.

He then turned to Lusk, saying, "Prepare to meet them; if you are a better man than they are, down them and pile them up." At the command of Capt. Emmons, the four men advanced on Lusk, who did not attempt to move, seized him by the arms, led him to the log, bucked him over it, two holding him by the arms and two by the legs, ordered the six men to advance, one at a time, strike three licks with the flat side of the board, march on a few paces and give room for the next.

After the performance had been completely carried out as commanded, the Captain declared that he could have heard Lusk holloing a mile distant every time the clapboard hit him.

After he had received the boarding, Emmons said that Lusk's setter was blistered where the boards had hit him, and that he never saw ten Germans enjoy themselves as much in his life. He then asked Lusk, in their presence, how he felt now in regard to fighting lopeared Dutch. Lusk declared that he had nothing against the Dutch and that he never would want to fight another one as long as he lived, and he hoped that Dr. Emmons would not let them do him any more harm. He dressed himself, they were all mounted, formed a line, and Lusk was brought into West Plains and took the oath, under the promise that he never would fight another lopeared Dutchman.

Goes to Washington City.

After the post was discontinued at West Plains, the author was again ordered back to Rolla. The state had made a proposition to the Federal authorities that if the government would arm, feed and clothe the troops, it could place a number of regiments of state troops in the service, and they would be able to send some of their regular troops to the front. A delegation was appointed by the state to visit Washington City, wait upon the President and see what the government could do for the state. The author was appointed as one of the delegates, and on the night following the departure of the delegation for Washington City, a rebel scout appeared at the house where the author's family was living and demanded the author. His wife replied that he was not at home, that he was one of the delegation that had left that morning for Washington City. She distinctly heard one man remark: "I expect that is so, for there was a delegation left this morning for Washington City." The house wasn't more than a quarter of a mile from the picket posts.

After parleying for some little time, they left the house, marched west about a mile, where some refugees were located in a house, and demanded their surrender. The house was full of women and children, there being also one boy and two men, to-wit: Peter Shriver and a man named Johnson. They ordered the doors opened; the inmates refused; then the rebels knocked down the door, and fired a volley right into the house. Shriver and Johnson being armed, returned the fire, killed one of the rebels on the spot, and fleeing through the rear part of the house, made their escape. The rebels killed one boy and severely wounded a girl and young Johnson, and retreated south, leaving their comrade dead.

It was learned afterwards that most of the scout were men from Howell county who had learned that the author had placed his family just outside of the Federal lines and had marched all the way there, with the avowed purpose of capturing the author and either shooting or hanging him.

On arrival of the delegation at Washington City they organized the delegation and made Chas. D. Drake their spokesman. He was afterwards elected to the United States Senate. Soon after the arrival President Lincoln informed us that he would be prepared to meet the delegation in a large hall, near the mansion, at which time and place he desired to be introduced to the whole delegation. When the delegation entered the hall the President and his secretary were seated together.

The Delegation Meets the President.

The delegation entered the hall in a single file. Chas. D. Drake approached the President and when within a few feet of the President and secretary, they arose to their feet and as the delegation marched by each one was introduced to them. Afterwards they were seated, and the petition and address of the people of the State of Missouri was delivered in an audible voice by Chas. D. Drake. In the opening of the address we addressed the President and called ourselves his friends.

As soon as the address was read the President rose to his feet and proceeded to deliver an address to the delegation and the author never will forget the impression that was made upon his mind in a part of that address. He said: "You should not address me as your friend; I am the President of the whole people and nation and while I am President, I expect to try to enforce the law against all violators of law and in the interest of the whole people of the nation; but if I have any friends in Missouri I suspect you men compose a part of them. I listened to your petition and offers, which make me proud for the patriotism that you manifest, in offering your services to your country in the darkest hour of her peril and I would be glad if the government was able to grant every request that you have made. The government at the present time is not in a condition to furnish clothing and commissaries for the number of men that you propose to put in the field, but the government will furnish all the arms that they can possibly spare, amunitions and commissaries and authorize the state to organize and put in the field any number of state troops, not to exceed sixty regiments." He said he would do all in his power to feed them but in the present condition of the government the state would have to pay them.

The delegation returned and informed the state of what promises the government had made and at once went to organizing and putting state troops into the field. The author was commissioned as lieutenant of Company H. and the regiment was ordered into active service for the period of sixty days. At the expiration of the term of service, the government ordered that a company of scouts be organized and that the author be made Captain of the company, to receive first lieutenant's pay and be clothed and fed by the government, be ordered on duty at once and placed under the direct command of Captain Murphy, who was then commanding the post at Houston.

The company scarcely saw an idle day, it was kept continuously scouting and fighting. The counties of Texas, Dent, Wright, Crawford, LaClede and Phelps, outside of the post, being completely under the control of the rebels. Not a single Union man nor his family could remain at home outside of the post.

Incidents of 1863.

In the fall of 1863, Colonel Livingston, who was acting in the capacity of Brigadier General, was ordered to proceed to Batesville, Arkansas, and there erect a post. The author was transferred, by order of the government, and made chief of scouts receiving Captain's pay and ordered to move with the command of Colonel Livingston and be under his command and control until further orders. On or about December 15, 1863, Colonel Livingston, who was Colonel of the 1st Nebraska regiment and the 11th Missouri Cavalry regiment, broke camp at Rolla, and marched in the direction of Batesville, Arkansas. Colonel Livingston, on leaving Rolla, issued a general order and sent the same in all directions, that all rebels, or "bushwhackers," who were captured wearing Federal uniform, would be court-martialed and shot; or all persons who were captured in robbing or plundering houses would be court-martialed and shot.

On our arrival at West Plains the advance of the command captured three Confederates dressed in Federal uniforms, near what was known as the Johnson farm. One of them broke from custody and escaped; the other two were court-martialed and shot, while the command was camped at West Plains. After those men were shot, some of the Confederates, dressed in Federal uniforms, came inside the Federal lines, while in camp at West Plains, just after dark, and took nine black cavalry horses from the line and made their escape. The soldiers saw them take the horses, but thought it was their own men taking them to water.

The command, breaking camp at West Plains, marched in the direction of Batesville, passed through Salem, Ark., and on Big Strawberry encountered the rebels and had quite an engagement. The weather was quite cold. I remember that after the fighting ceased, some of the soldiers had been fighting with their revolvers, and their hands had become so benumbed that they had lost the use of their fingers, and couldn't return their revolvers to their scabbards, and the revolvers had to be taken from their hands; the hands of some of them were badly frostbitten.

The command again renewed its march for Batesville. Small bands of bushwhackers and rebels kept up a continuous fire every day on the advance, and committed depredations by pillaging; claiming they were Federal forces, most of them being dressed in Federal uniforms. The pillaging grew so annoying that Col. Livingston, just before breaking camp, divided the advance into two columns, marching from a mile to two and a half miles apart. Late in the afternoon, one wing came onto a number of those irregular Confederates, or bushwhackers, robbing the house of a Union woman whose husband was in the Federal army. Nearly all of them were dressed in Federal uniforms, claiming to the woman to be Federal soldiers. They had all dismounted and gone into the house to plunder it, except their captain, Elliott, whom they had left on guard. The road came around in a short bend and concealed the approach of the Federals until they were within a hundred yards of the house. There was a large gate in front of the house. The woman was standing in the yard about ten steps from the gate. She saw the troops coming before they were discovered by the captain, and supposed them to be of the same command. They were all cavalry. As soon as they saw the captain, they put spurs to their horses, and with revolvers in hand, charged upon them. The captain gave the alarm, and fled as rapidly as possible on horseback, a part of the Federals in hot pursuit after him.

Every avenue of escape was cut off from those who were in the house, and they were forced to retreat through a ten-acre open field, before they could reach the timber. The woman of the house, seeing them flee, knew at once that they didn't belong to the same command. While the Federals were approaching the gate at full speed, she ran to it and threw it open, so that they would not be checked in their pursuit. They overtook them about two-thirds of the way across the field, as the rebels were cut off from their horses and were on foot. Three of the rebels were killed, and three taken prisoners. They had everything in their possession—bed clothing, domestic, knives and forks, and even axes, that they had been taking from Confederates as well as from Unionists; also a number of women's dresses. All of the dresses were given to the woman whose house they were robbing at the time of their capture. The soldiers had a fine time after they reached camp, by turning the domestic into new towels.

Just after supper, the author was notified to appear at the provost marshal's office, to see whether or not he could identify the prisoners. On his appearing and entering into conversation with the prisoners and inquiring their names, one claimed to be named Smith, another Taylor and the other Johnson. One of them lisped a little when talking. The author soon recognized one of them and said to him: "Your name is not Smith. You had just as well give your proper name, for I know you." The Provost Marshal asked him if he knew the author. He hesitated to answer. On the Provost Marshal urging him to answer, he said: "I ought to know him, as he was one of my near neighbors when the war commenced. My name is Calvin Hawkins." The author replied, "That is correct," and turning to the other prisoner for a second look, recognized him. He remarked, "Taylor is not your proper name." The Provost Marshal asked him if he knew the author. He hesitatingly replied that he did. His proper name was then demanded, which he gave as Jacob Bridges. The other was a boy named Hankins, 13 years of age.

Court-Martialed and Shot.

The Provost Marshal asked them if they had ever read or heard of the general order that had been issued by Col. Livingston. They replied that they had. He said to them: "You have violated the order in every particular; you are wearing Federal uniforms, and have been caught robbing and pillaging citizens' houses. Tonight your cases will be submitted to a court martial, except the boy's." He then ordered the author to take them to a room and inform them that they would certainly be convicted by the court martial, and the only way they could escape death would be to give the rendezvous and names of all irregular troops in their knowledge, and agree to pilot a scout to the different places of resort.

The author informed them of what the Provost Marshal had said, and further informed them that Col. Livingston, then acting in the capacity of Brigadier General, would have the only power to commute their sentences, after they were convicted. They refused to give any information that would aid the authorities in capturing the different irregular roving bands. The author bade them good-bye, told them he was sorry for them, that they were in a bad condition, but had brought it upon themselves and each of them had better prepare for death, for they were certain to be court-martialed that night. He then left the prisoners, the guard taking charge of them. The court-martial convened that night; charges and specifications were preferred before the Judge Advocate of violating both orders. They were accordingly convicted, and the next morning, before we broke camp, the author saw the detail that had been selected to execute them; saw the prisoners under guard moving out to the place selected for the execution, heard the discharge of the guns, and soon learned that they both had been shot. Somewhere on the head of Big Strawberry, in Izard county, the boy's mother came to us, and he was turned over to her.

The command broke camp and proceeded on the way towards Batesville, with more or less skirmishing with the rebels every day; and on the 25th of December, 1863, we had come to within about three miles of Batesville, Independence county, the rebels in considerable force then being in possession of the city. They had a strong picket about a quarter of a mile from the main city, leading right down Poke bayou. Another road turned to the right and entered the lower part of the city. The commander halted and threw out a considerable force in advance. The author was placed right in the front of the advance, with orders to charge the pickets, and on their retreat, to charge the enemy, and if they found them in too strong a force to fall back on the main command.

The rebel ladies had procured a large hall in the city, situated upon High street, leading west through the city. They were all dressed in gray, and had any amount of egg nog and other delicious drinks in the hall and all through the public parts of the city. A large number of the Confederate soldiers were in the hall dancing, a number of them belonging to Col. Freeman's command. On reaching the rebel pickets, they fired, and the commander ordered a charge with revolver and saber, and we followed close upon their heels. On reaching the city, the firing became promiscuous. The rebels retreated south, a number of them retreating in the direction of White river, and swam the river with their horses, while many of them abandoned their horses and swam the river. One part of the rebel command filed to the right, thinking that it was a Federal scout, and attempted to retreat upon the lower road. The Federals saw them coming, and knew from their actions that they were retreating. They at once deployed two lines in front of the command, one on each side of the road. Before the rebels found out their real condition they were completely into the trap, and they surrendered without the firing of a gun.

How Received by the Batesville Ladies.

After the fighting had subsided, the author, with a part of the command, rode up High street to the hall where they had just been dancing. There must have been as many as two hundred and fifty or three hundred ladies in the hall and on the roof. Some of the boys dismounted, went up into the hall and drank some of their eggnog, although there were strict orders against it.

The main command reached the east end of High street, marching in a solid column of two, with a brass band and drums and fifes playing, and striking up the tune of "Yankee Doodle," they came marching down High street, in the direction of the hall. The women began to use the strongest epithets possible in their vocabulary against the Union soldiers, calling them "nigger lovers," "lopeared Dutch," "thieves" and "murderers." The author spoke to them saying, "You are mistaken. These men are gentlemen, sent here by the government to establish a military post, and if you treat them nicely you will receive the same kind of treatment."

About this time the front of the command had moved up to the hall. At once a number of the ladies began to make mouths at them and spit over the banisters toward them, calling them vile names. The soldiers then began to hallo at the top of their voices: "O, yonder is my Dixie girl, the one that I marched away from the north to greet." "God bless their little souls, ain't they sweet; sugar wouldn't melt in their mouths." "I am going to get my bandbox and cage up one of the sweet little morsels and take her home for a pet."

The voices of the soldiers completely drowned the hearing of anything the women were saying. In a little while the women hushed. As the column was passing by, one of the women remarked, "I believe that gentleman gave us good advice; I think we had better stop our abuse and we will be treated better." We marched down to the west end of High street, marched across to the next main street, then the head of the column turned east again up Main street, and striking up the tune of "Hail, Columbia, My Happy Land," marched up to the east end of Main street, and ordered a guard placed around the whole town, to prevent the escape of the rebel soldiers that were concealed in the town. The author never saw as much confusion as there was there, for a short time, among the citizens, especially the women. Some were laughing, some were abusing the soldiers, some crying, and some cursing.

After things had quieted down the soldiers went into camp. Colonel Livingston began to hunt suitable buildings for his head quarters and for an office for the Provost Marshall and Judge Advocate. It became a fixed fact with the citizens of the city that the Federals were going to locate a permanent post at that place.

While they were in pursuit of the rebels the author remembered an incident that attracted his attention. There were four or five negro men standing upon the street corner and one of the officers holloed out to the negroes; "Which way did the rebels go?" On one corner of the street there was a bunch of rebel citizens standing and as soon as the corner was turned and they were out of sight of the rebel citizens they answered the officer, "Massa, we don't know which way the rebels went;" one of them dodged around the corner in an instant, and in a low tone of voice, and with a motion of his hand, said, "Massa dey went right dat way," almost in an instant came back around the corner and said in hearing of the rebel citizens "Massa, I declare I don't know the way dem rebels went."

The next morning Livingston issued a general order for all persons who claimed protection from the Federal army to come in and report and take the oath. The author remembers an incident that occurred on the evening of the fight. There had been two or three men killed just across the bridge and they placed a guard there with orders to let no person cross it without a pass. Shortly after dark a young lady who had secreted around her waist under her clothes, two pistols, a belt and scabbard which belonged to a Confederate soldier, just after dark came to the bridge and wanted to cross. The sergeant of the guard ask her if she had a pass, to which she replied that she had not. He informed her that he could not let her go over. Among the guards was an Irishman and the young lady remarked to the sergeant that "it was very hard" that she "had a relative that was killed just across the bridge and she wanted to go over and see him and that a woman couldn't do any harm and they might let her go over without a pass."

The Irishman sprang to his feet and remarked "Be Jasus, women can do a divil of a sight of harm, can convey more information, can carry more intelligence through the lines to the rebels than twenty men and there are so many of our officers, if she happens to be good looking, would let her pass through." The sergeant believing that she was a near relative of one of the men that was killed a short distance from the bridge, let her pass over, and that night she delivered the pistols to the Confederate soldiers. She afterwards admitted this when she was arrested for refusing to take the oath.

If You Will Grease and Butter Him.

She declared that she "wouldn't swallow old Lincoln," and the commander ordered all persons who refused to take the oath, either men or women, arrested and sent to Little Rock. When she found that she had to take the oath or go to Little Rock, she said to them that "if they would grease and butter the oath she would try to swallow it." Afterwards she became very intimate with one of the young Federals, married him and when the command broke up left the post, left the country and went with him.

The author remained there all that winter, being in active service almost every day, capturing some of the worst men that there were in the country. In a short time after the post was located the west side of the river was all in the control of the rebels. The rebels began to boast and brag that those Northern Yankees could stay around the open field and around cities but whenever they crossed the river they would show them just how rebel bullets would fly. Colonel Freeman's head quarters were near the head of Silamore creek, they would get on the mountains, on each side (as the Yankees knew nothing about mountains) and roll rocks down on them and what they didn't kill with rocks and bullets would be glad to get back across the river to Batesville.

There were no ferry boats on the river, they had all been sunk or run out by the rebels.

The weather was very cold. White river froze over solid. The old residents there said it was the first time they ever knew of the river freezing over solid. The ice was so thick that it would hold the weight of horses and wagons. Col. Livingston ordered lumber hauled and laid the planks flat on the ice. He then sent some men who resided in Nebraska when at home, to make a test. They reported that the ice was safe for a command to pass over. The commander at once organized a force, crossed the river on the ice, and took up the line of march for the purpose of attacking Freeman's forces, which were distant about ten or twelve miles. As soon as the rebel forces found that they were moving up Silamore creek in the direction of Freeman's headquarters, they placed men on the hills on each side of the creek, and as soon as the Federal forces came within reach, they opened fire, and commenced rolling stones. The commander halted, deployed skirmishers, ordered them to fall back, march on foot and flank the rebels, while they would continue the march up the creek and attract their attention until they would have them completely flanked, and then close in on them. While the main force moved up the creek slowly, under almost continuous fire, all at once a general fire opened up on both sides of the hills. I never before saw rebels running and dodging in all directions, trying to make their escape, as they did then. A number of them were killed and wounded, and the others taken prisoners. The remainder got down from the hills, wiser men, and made a hasty retreat up the creek. Upon the Federal column reaching the headquarters of Freeman, it was so unexpected that he had to retreat, leaving all his camp equipage, his trunk and clothing, and about $5,000 in Confederate money.

They retreated in an almost northerly direction. Our force returned to Batesville. The scouts, with a small force of troops, were sent up White river to find where the line of march of the rebels was. They found that they had crossed White river near the mouth of the north fork and were moving in the direction of Pocahontas. There had been two Federal companies detailed and sent out northeast in the direction of Spring river. Freeman's command surrounded them and made prisoners of one of the companies. The other company, commanded by Capt. Majors, made a charge on the lines and cut their way through.

Reinforcements were at once dispatched in the direction of the moving columns of rebels. In the meantime, the rebels had reached Pocahontas, on Black river, and had effected a crossing onto the east side of Black river, except the rear guard, which were in their boat about midway of the river, when the Federal forces reached the west side of the river. They fired on the parties in the boat, wounding some of them, but they succeeded in reaching the bank, and turned their boat loose. A strong line of rebels was drawn up on the east bank of Black river, and opened fire on the Federal forces on the west side. After considerable firing, both sides ceased. The rebels appeared to move east; the Federal forces again countermarched and returned to Batesville.

The country on the west side of White river was still under the control of a strong force of rebels commanded by Col. Weatherford and three or four other Confederate commanders. About three weeks after their return, an order was issued for two wagon trains with six mule teams and a detail of two companies, to escort it. The train moved out, for the purpose of getting corn and other forage, about fifteen miles distant on White river. After they had arrived at their destination and were loading their wagons, a large force of rebels surrounded them, charged on them, and made prisoners of about half of the escort. The Federal captain, who belonged to one of the 11th Missouri companies, surrendered, handed his pistol, about half shot out, to a rebel soldier, who turned his own pistol on him and shot him dead. The scouts who escaped capture, retreated with all possible haste to Batesville.

In the meantime, the rebel forces cut the wagons down, piled them in heaps and set them on fire; while the mules, with all their gear and breeching on were put into White river and swam across to the other side. As soon as the news reached headquarters, a force was speedily organized, and started on a forced march. Upon reaching the scene of action the rebels were all safely across on the other side of the river, harness and wagons were just about completely burned up. No chance of any boats to cross the river and the river being full, they countermarched and returned to Batesville again.

The whole winter was taken up in scouting and fighting small bands of rebels. Sometime in the latter part of the winter the commissaries and forage were becoming scarce and the nearest Federal post down White river was at Duvall's bluff. The commander called on the author, who was Captain of scouts, for a detail of two men who could procure a canoe and try, if possible, to reach Duvall's Bluff and inform the Federal authorities there of the conditions of the post. The author detailed a man by the name of Johardy Ware and a man by the name of Simon Mason. They were to procure a canoe and travel in the night, drawing it, when daylight came, into thick brush, and in that way, if possible, reach the Federal post. They succeeded in reaching the post and in a short time commissaries and provisions, with forage, were forwarded up the river on two small transports, with a number of troops to force its passage up the river. Sometime in the latter part of the winter the boats reached Batesville and supplied all of the wants and short rations of the soldiers and again made everything merry and happy.

Give an Oyster Supper

In April, 1864, the author had promised to return to Rolla for the purpose of aiding and recruiting a regiment, known as the 16th Missouri Cavalry Volunteer. He informed the commander and asked for his recommendation which was granted. He wanted to know when I wanted to start so that he could make preparations to send me around by water. The author informed him that he intended to march through by land. The commander thought it was a thing impossible, that scouting bands of rebels had possession of the country, from a short distance outside of Batesville almost to Rolla, Missouri. The commander and Provost Marshall gave the author an innovation, made an oyster supper for him and his company of scouts, said they were loath to give them up, that they had performed so much valuable service, and he didn't know where he could get any other men to take their places.

After taking leave of the officers and soldiers, the author took a small flag, fastened upon a staff, fastened it to the browband of the bridle and remarked to the officers as he bid them good bye, that the stars and stripes should float from Batesville to Rolla or the author would die in the attempt. The company then set out for Rolla, Missouri. Colonel Woods of the 11th Missouri cavalry had been on detached service and Lieutenant Colonel Stevens had been commanding the regiment. He had received orders to join his regiment at Batesville, Arkansas, and, with a considerable force of men, reached the state line about 12 o'clock, and came in sight of the command.

They saw our company approaching, at once drew up in line of battle, and as many of the rebels had procured Federal uniforms, both parties sent out couriers to ascertain who the forces were. On learning that both sides were Federals, we marched up and went into camp with them. The author was immediately taken to Col. Wood's headquarters. He informed him that he had camped near West Plains the night before, and that the bushwhackers had kept up a continuous fire until after they got a considerable distance down South Fork; and he believed it impossible for as small a force as I had to reach Rolla without great disaster and perhaps annihilation. He said that the author and his company of scouts were the very men he wanted, and offered to increase his salary to $7.00 per day if he would go back with him and remain with his command. The author told him that he was honor bound to return to Missouri and assist in organizing a regiment of cavalry for the United States service, and if the bushwhackers didn't keep clear, he would give some of them a furlough before he reached Rolla.

After dinner Woods broke camp and moved in the direction of Batesville, and we in the direction of Rolla. Near where the last firing was done they had arrested a man named Craws, who really was a Union man, and the author had been well acquainted with him before the war commenced, but Woods' soldiers could with difficulty be restrained from shooting him. On my informing the Colonel that I was well acquainted with the man and that there was no harm in him, he agreed to turn him over to the author and let him bring him back home with him. After we had started, Craws informed the author that he knew the parties who had been firing on the Federal troops; that their headquarters were about two miles from where he then resided; and that he was satisfied from the last firing he had heard, that they had turned off from the main road and gone up what was called the Newberry hollow. After passing the old Newberry farm, they had a plain trail that turned to the right and led directly to the camp. They were commanded by two men named Hawkins and Yates.