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VIEWING THE STEAMBOAT GOING UP THE MISSOURI RIVER ON WHICH GOVERNOR JACKSON WAS ABOARD IN WAR TIMES
By S. C. Turnbo
One day in the month of August, 1906, I had a pleasant conversation with Mr. M. O. (Miles) McClelland who lives in the Indian Territory Creek Nation. Mr. McClelland informed me that he is a son of Doctor Nichols McClelland and was born at Nashville in Boone County, Missouri, in 1850. In giving the recollections of his boyhood days in Civil War times, Mr. McClelland said that his parents were living in the town of Claysville when the war turned its fiery darts loose. Claysville is on the north bank of the Missouri River just over the line in Calaway County near the division line between it and Boone County. One evening just before sundown when I was eleven years old, we saw a steamboat coming up the river with a full head of steam on. The bow of the boat was fairly plowing through the water. We did not know what boat it was until it steamed up opposite town and we read the name “White Cloud” on the Pilot House. We noticed that there were a large number of people aboard of the boat and we were at a loss to know the business of the steamer going up the river in such a rush. But we learned in a few hours afterward that Governor Jackson and other state officials were aboard fleeing from Jefferson City to Booneville in Cooper County to reset up the state government there. On the second day after the White Cloud passes us we observed another steamboat hove in sight and when it got near enough so we could have a better view of it, we saw that it was loaded with federal soldiers, part of which were cavalry. The boat landed at our town of Claysville, but just before the bow of the boat reached the landing, my father put his double barreled shotgun in a thick growth of dog fennel between the house and barn. Then he mounted his horse and rode out of town. After the boat had landed we were told that the soldiers were a detachment sent in pursuit of the Governor and the other state officers. The soldiers came ashore and when they came in to town, some of them said they saw a man hide a gun in the weeds, but they did not know who the man was nor they could not find the gun. The officer in charge of the troops had part of the horses taken off of the boat and a small squad of cavalry was sent out into the country to pick up Southern men if they could find any, and in the roundup they captured my father; but seeing that he was a doctor they released him. While the soldiers occupied the town I went to the spring for a bucket of water. The spring run out of a bluff 150 yards below town and as I went back to the house with my bucket of water, the soldiers kept asking me for water and I gave it to them until the bucketfull was exhausted, and I returned to the spring and refilled my bucket and started back again. But before I reached the house the thirsty soldiers drank it all up again and I went back for another bucketfull, and succeeded in getting to the house before the bucket was entirely empty. I relate this small incident because I was a child at the time of its occurrence and remember it so well. Soon after this the fight at Booneville went off. “I have told you,” said Mr. McClelland, “that I was born at Nashville in Boone County. This town is no more now for it vas washed entirely away by the Missouri River by cutting the land away to the bluff and destroyed the town. There was one house standing there in 1866 and this one has been gone many years.”
THE ALPH COOK CAVE
By S. C. Turnbo
The head prongs of West Sugar Loaf Creek in Boone County, Arkansas, is a picturesque locality. The deep, rough hollows as they wind their way toward the creek and the hills as they loom up form a fascinating view. On the west prong of the creek is situated a noted cave and is a mile or more up this hollow and is something near three and one-half northwest of Elixir Springs. This cave was of considerable prominence among the old time hunters of that section and was more so in war times as a place of refuge for a number of the inhabitants. Its formation is an interesting study to those who love and admire nature’s art. A high rock wall extends some distance along the mountainside terminating at one end with the cave, which is near three-fourths of a mile north of the Lead Hill and Harrison wagon road.
Bill Treadway informed the writer that soon after the close of the war and while he was a little fellow, he and his brother Ben Treadway and Jim and John Wagoner, sons of John Wagoner who lived on West Sugar Loaf just below the mouth of the hollow that the cave is in, and Mark Bell and John Bell, sons of Mat Bell, Tom Keeling and Frank Keeling, sons of Abe Keeling, Carter Smith, son of Ira J. Smith., Bob Jackson, son of’ Jim Jackson, Green Jackson, son of Dick Jackson, and Albert Upton, son of Jim Upton, would meet at this cave of Sundays and romp all day. The Wagoner boys were very venturesome, for they would get on top of the precipice where it was the highest and sit down on the edge of it and let their feet hang over. I recollect on one occasion when we had started a big rock rolling down the steep hillside, we found a sledge hammer, a pair of tongs, nippers, and several other things of various descriptions that had been put under this rock by someone during the war for safe keeping. “I am told, continued Mr. Treadway, “that one day during the early settlement of the country, a deer, while being hotly pursued by dogs, leaped over this precipice and was killed.”
In the month of February, 1865, when the war was at its greatest heat in this part of Arkansas, a few men were killed at this cave. Among those who met death here was Alph E. Cook, Ed Brown, Alph Dean, and Hiram Russell. I am told that there were several other men in the cave but their lives were spared. John E. Cook, son of Alph Cook, who was 16 years old at the time of this memorable incident informed the writer that his father and Mr. Russell were shot down in the mouth of the cave, but Brown run the gauntlet of armed men at the mouth of the cavern and succeeded in getting one-quarter of a mile from the cave before he was finally slain. After the men had been shot down a few of those who were permitted to live were allowed to take charge of their bodies and they buried them as best they could under the circumstances. In mentioning the interment of three of the bodies, John E. Cook said that an ox wagon pulled by a yoke of cattle was brought in to the hollow below the cave and the dead men were carried down the mountainside to the wagon and placed in the wagon-box and hauled four miles and stopped in one-half mile of the old Abe Keeling place where a grave was dug and a plain coffin prepared for the reception of the body of his father and a box each for the bodies of the others. “My father, Hiram Russell, and Ed Brown were buried in the same grave. My father’s body was placed between the other two.” said Mr. Cook. Alph Cook was an early settler of Taney County, Missouri, and lived six miles northeast of Forsyth. For this reason and the way he was killed here, this cavern is known far and wide as the Alph Cook Cave. Twenty-nine years after the occurrence of that bloody scene of those troubled days, the writer visited this spot to examine the cave where the men took shelter and were shot down. But I did not tarry long. The opening into the cavern is large and roomy with an overhanging cliff of rock, and as I stood at the entrance of the cavern, thoughts of those sad and gloomy days of terror whirled through my mind. As I viewed the fragments of the once-fortified breastworks that a few southern men had constructed during the war to defend the mouth of the cave from attack, I imagined I could see the bleeding forms of the dying men that were killed here lying at my feet and feel their spirits hovering over me and I was overwhelmed with superstition and I turned around and fled down the mountainside into the hollow and went on my way. This was on the 22nd of June, 1894, and it was my last and only visit to this noted cavern.
A COLD SWIM ACROSS WHITE RIVER
By S. C. Turnbo
This chapter is the sequel to the death of the men at the Alph Cook that we have told about elsewhere and shows that in war days a human enemy was more to be dreaded then attacks from wild beasts. In certain cases men would brave all sorts of danger to shun the appearance of death from other sources. This is human nature. In some cases the danger encountered in an effort to save life was worse than the one they were trying to avoid. The perils that many men passed through without being killed seems miraculous. The terrible risk of galloping their horses down rough hillsides and over ledges of rock, crossing gulches and hollows at breakneck speed, or plunging into swollen streams in midwinter to escape an infuriated enemy is told many times over. The races on foot or on horseback to avoid being shot occurred hundreds of times in the Ozark region. Events of this kind will be read in history as long as our nation exists. These stirring scenes of the bloody days of our Civil War will never be forgotten and the stories of them will be reiterated from generation to generation as long as people are able to tell it.
We have said that this chapter is the sequel to the bloody and terrible scene enacted at the Alph Cook Cave during the dark hours of the close of the great conflict and we add other information relating to this as told me by John (Jack) Ellison who said that he was present in the cave just before the killing of the men was done. The following is his account of it. ‘On the day the attack was made a snow several inches deep lay on the ground and the weather was cold. During the early hours after sunrise clouds obscured the sky, but later on a northwest wind swept the clouds away and the sun shone bright and the snow glistened. There were twenty-five men, more or less, in the cave who had collected there from time to time, for the cave was in such an out way place that a number of men considered it a safe retreat from the enemy. On the day the federals made the attack and a short while before they appeared, John May, a citizen of Taney County, Missouri, and who lived on White River below the mouth of Beaver Creek, advised Alph Cook to evacuate the cave before it was too late, giving as his reasons “that a small force of the enemy could lay siege to it and guard the mouth of it and starve out any armed force that would attempt to defend themselves in the cavern and would be forced to surrender and shot down like dogs.” Cook was considered by the men as their leader and Mr. May had advised him carefully and wisely. But Cook would not heed the advice given him by his old friend May and refused to leave the cave. It wan then that John May informed him that he intended to vacate the cave if he had to go alone and made preparations to mount his horse which was standing with the saddle on at the mouth of the big, roomy entrance. At this Joe Webb and myself told Mr. May that we would go with him. All the other men decided to stay with Cook. Some of the men claimed that there was less danger to remain in the cave than to evacuate it, and so they put their faith in the council of Cook. And we three led our horses down the mountainside into the hollow where we mounted them and rode away. After we had rode near three-fourths of a mile from the cave we heard several shots in quick succession and the shouting of men and we knew at once that the enemy had arrived and were attacking and killing the poor fellows that we had just left. We had just got away in time, and knowing that the enemy would follow our trail in the snow, we hurried on toward the river. The killed there besides those who is already mentioned as we learned afterward were Ed Weaver and Billy Johnson. Those who were taken prisoners and sent off were Ed Johnson, Anderson Moore, and John Wheeler. The last named was a son of Bill Wheeler who lived on Taney City Ridge near Taney City, Missouri. All the rest of the men were set free. Now to our ride through the deep snow and over the rough ground to the river. The snow impeded our progress, but we urged our horses along as fast as their weak and hungry condition would permit. In the course of a few hours we reached the bank of the river at Dubuque and found that the village was entirely deserted. The river was swollen and was about six feet past fording which almost dumbfounded us, for we had a better chance to escape if we could cross to the opposite shore for we were better acquainted with the hills and roughs on the north side than on the south side. It was almost certain death to remain on the south side. If we could manage to cross over we might save our lives. No doubt the enemy was in pursuit of us and would arrive in a short time, and after a short chase would lay us in the snow cold in death, for in our condition the resistance we could offer would be feeble. If we turned in another direction the enemy would certainly overhaul and shoot us to death. John May was our leader and we had implicit confidence in his leadership, and we told him to lead the way and we would follow. “Well, boys,” said he, “our only chance to escape is to cross the river.” Though I and Webb had just told him to lead us and we would willingly go with him,, but we exclaimed, “how can we succeed in getting over unless we had a canoe” for there was not a, craft of any kind in sight, and Mr. May answered “We can swim over.” Oh, horrors, it seemed like death to remain there and we certainly die by drowning and freezing if we attempted to swim across the ice cold stream. May said that it was better to die in cold water than give the enemy the pleasure of shooting us to death and boast over our dead bodies. This settled it., and hurriedly placing small bits of leather on the tubes of our guns and pressing the hammer of the lock down on the leather to keep the breech in the guns dry and after stopping up the muzzles of the guns with pieces of cloth torn from our saddle blankets, we tied the guns to the pummels of our saddles with the barrels hanging down and fixing the bridles and stirrups so that the horses’ feet would not get tangled up, we were ready ‘to enter into the cold, swift running stream. Mr. May lead the way and as he started down the bank to the river, he remarked in a solemn way, “Men, we must cross over or die in the attempt.” When May reached the edge of the water, he stopped and got behind his horse and took hold of his tail and urged him forward into the water, and he and the horse was soon in the embrace of the muddy stream. It was a desperate undertaking, but May said that it was sweeter than facing the bullets of the enemy and as soon as he give us room we followed suit and began making for the other shore. How we contrived to reach it I never can explain except that we held to our horses’ tails and they pulled us across. It was awful work for our weak and jaded horses to have to battle against the ice cold waves, but it was war and war meant to kill and destroy. Onward swam the horses through the rapid current and we held to their tails for dear life. We could see the horses’ heads and the breech of our guns ever now and then as they would “bob” up and down out of the water, and it was all we could do to prevent ourselves from strangling. The water beat us far down stream and it seemed an hour before we reached the other side, but I suppose it was only a few minutes when we crawled out of the water. We found that we were more than one-quarter of a mile below the village. When we got on shore we shivered and shook. Our bodies grew numb as well as shaking. We felt like we would freeze to death. We must do something to rouse the circulation or we would freeze to death. And we managed somehow to mount our cold, shivering beasts and rode across the bottom in the Jake Nave Bend to a deep gulch in the hills where there was a shelving rock with some dry wood under it. Here we stopped. Part of our powder in the powder horns was found to be dry and we hunted around and found some dry leaves and small sticks and other material that rats and other small animals had carried into the crevices in the rocks, and with this and the dry powder, a flint rock, and a piece of steel we flashed and struck until we had a little smoke, then a little blare, and we piled on fuel as fast as the fire would bear it without smothering it out until we had a roaring fire which began to relieve our cold and shivering limbs. We did not stop gathering wood ‘until we had a pile of dead cedar and other dead wood that we pulled out of the snow, and kept up a warm fire during the remainder of the day and throughout the long hours of night, and dried our clothes, blankets, saddles, guns, and other things. We remained here twenty-four hours without anything to eat for ourselves or horses. Though we needed something to eat very bad, yet we felt more sorrow for our starving horses than for ourselves. We knew that we must leave there and seek food for ourselves and provender for our weak and jaded animals and so we left our comfortable quarters and warm fire. As soon as we had lead our horses to the top of the hill, we mounted them once more and after a slow ride of several miles through the snowy hills we reached a small cabin occupied by a man and woman who gave us food and something for our horses, which made us feel very grateful toward the men and his wife. After we had ate to our satisfaction and our horses had eat enough we left the settlers’ fireside greatly refreshed, and remounting our horses again, we bid our host and hostess adieu and began our journey toward Batesville, Arkansas, and after much suffering from cold and hunger we arrived in the near vicinity of that place and finally surrendered to the federal authorities who were stationed there. These are some of the hardships I and others had to undergo at times during the four years of death, destruction, cold, and hunger in northern Arkansas and southern Missouri.” said Mr. Ellison.
A LITTLE SCARE IN THE BIG WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
War scares were frequent while the great Civil War was progressing. The people of both sides who used caution were always on the lookout for an enemy. Sometimes a little noise would put men to flight as if Satan himself was following in their wake. In many cases it was time to run; in others it was best not to run. But it was hard to judge in those days of blood and carnage what was best to do unless they could keep out of the way of the enemy. Mr. A. Brown said that he had a little experience of this kind once that was somewhat funny which he related in this way. “During the war while I lived on Bee Creek in Taney County, Missouri, I found a bee tree on Yocum Creek which puts into White River from the north side. The tree was two miles from the mouth and was near where a country road crossed the creek. One day I concluded to rob the tree of the honey, but the federals were in the country, and I was almost afraid to venture out, but I decided to go. Bob Bell and a colored man who belonged to Wilson Yandell went with me. We taken two vessels with us, one of which held a half a bushel and the other a cedar pail which held one-third of a bushel, and we crossed the river at the mouth of Yocum’s Creek and proceeded on to where the tree stood and went to work and soon felled it and had got both vessels filled with rich honeycomb when we heard horses’ feet like a party of cavalry was hurrying over the country road just mentioned. We did not wait to find out who they were, but grabbed up the vessels and beat a hasty retreat. While we were getting away the men began firing their guns and yelling which had a tendency to accelerate our speed, and got away with the honey and also our scalps. We never knew whether the party of men that gave us such a scare were friends or foes. We left a lot of honey in the tree, but we never did go back to it any more.”
PICKED UP HER HUSBAND’S BRAINS
By S. C. Turnbo
Among the sad scenes and incidents of Civil War days that occurred in the Buffalo mountains is an account furnished me by James C. (Jim) Guin. I saw Mr. Guin at a picnic one mile south of the railroad depot at Coweta, Indian Territory, on the 4th of August, 1906, where he related it to me. He said, “I am a son of Jesse and Charlotte (Shipman) Guin and was born in Henry County, Tennessee, December 12, 1851. My father died in Polk County, Missouri, and lies buried in the Weaver grave-yard eight miles north of Bolivar. My mother died in Arkansas and is buried on Spring Creek five miles northeast of Big Flat. Spring Creek is mostly composed of five springs of water and flows into Big Creek, an affluent of Buffalo.” Mr. Guin said his parents moved from Tennessee to Searcy County, Arkansas, in 1855 and settled on Big Creek five miles above where it runs into Buffalo and three miles northeast of Big Flat. He said that he remembers going to school at Big Flat a short term, a year or more after their arrival there. “I boarded with Asa Baker who sold goods at Big Flat. I cannot call to mind the name of the teacher, but the school was taught in a hewed log house with benches for seats. Among our neighbors who lived on Big Creek on our arrival there were Berry Treat, Gin Base, Billie Tillie, Andy George and Adville Horton. Tillie owned an overshot mill which was run by a fine spring of water that run out of a bluff some ten or twelve miles east of Burroughville, now called Marshall. Mr. Horton was killed on Big Creek during the war. A scouting party of soldiers killed him on the creek four miles above the mouth. In giving an account of the sad incident as mentioned at the commencement of this chapter, Mr. Guin said, “A man of the name of Murph Henderson lived near us on Big Creek. He was a son of “Chris” Henderson who lived several years on Shoal Creek in Taney County, Missouri. One day while the cruel war was raging, Henderson and his wife whose name was Sarah come to our house. Henderson was near 30 years of age. Captain Joe Smith, an old man, was also at our house at the same time Henderson and his wife was. These men were southern sympathizers. They had not been in our house but a short time before we noticed 30 mounted men charging toward the house. A moment before they reached the yard fence Henderson, seeing that they wore blue uniforms, darted out of the house and started running across our field. Smith made no effort to escape and remained in the house. Part of the horsemen knocked down the fence and pursued Henderson and took him in the upper part of the field and shot him to death. I was just twelve years old then and remember that awful day as if it was only yesterday. I saw them kill Henderson, and the men who remained at the house threatened to kill Smith, but I begged the men not to shoot him, that he was old and harmless and that there was nothing alleged against him except that he held up for the southern side and that was not a crime. I thought for a while they would kill him in spite of all my entreaties not to do so. But finally they went away from the house without hurting Smith and the 30 men assembled together again and rode away. Henderson’s wife run to the body of her husband first, and when the soldiers left the house, I and others went to where it lay. His head was almost shot to pieces and the brains were spattered on the ground where the dead body lay, and Sarah Henderson, his wife, picked up all the bits of brains she could find on the ground and those that had oozed out of the bullet holes in the head which were still on the head, and she wiped them off with her hands and put them all in her apron and took them to a hollow stump which stood in a few yards of where the dead man was and dropped them into it. A new graveyard had been started on our place and we buried the body of Henderson there. Sarah Henderson was drowned in Big Creek a few months after the death of her man. She was mounted on a horse, or rather riding double, and was behind Bob Cypret on a stout horse and when they reached the ford of the creek they found that it was swollen, but Cypret told her they could ford it and rode into the water where he soon got in where it was swimming and the woman was drowned and so was the horse. Cypret escaped. When the woman’s body was recovered from the water, she was buried where her husband received interment. As a compliment for saving his life, Captain Smith paid me evil for good by stealing the best horse we had and fled, which he done a short while after Henderson was killed.”
THE LAST HOURS OF MIKE YOCUM
By S. C. Turnbo
One of the earliest settlers in Marion County, Arkansas, is Mike Yocum whose name we have mentioned so frequently in these sketches. Mr. Yocum had three brothers whose names were Jess, Solomon, and Jake. These four men had crossed the deep blue sea to America from Germany when they were little boys. At the age of 17 Mike was captured by the Indians and held a captive four years. At one time the Indians condemned him to suffer death by shooting him with arrows, but after the warriors had placed him on a block of wood to carry out his execution., the chief interfered in his behalf and saved him from a terrible death by shooting arrows into his body. These Indians had also captured a negro man at the time Yocum was taken. One day while Yocum and the negro were prisoners but were footloose, the negro and one of the Indian men got into a fight and the warrior bit off part of one of the negro’s ears. Some years after Yocum and the negro made their escape from the Indians., the latter finally fell in possession of Ewing Hogan, an early settler of Marion County, Arkansas. After the death of Ewing Hogan, Cal Hogan, son of Ewing Hogan, owned the negro. As long as Mike Yocum lived he loved old Ben the negro because they had been fellow prisoners and suffered together while in the hands of the red men. Ben lived until after the close of the Civil War and died at an extreme old age. In 1850, while Yocum lived at the mouth of Little North Fork and owned the mill there, he was a candidate for representative of Marion County. His opponent was Captain Henry, whose given name is forgotten. Both men were influential and had many friends which made the canvass hot. Ned Coker, who espoused the cause of Yocum, was one day talking with one of Captain Henry’s friends and during the conversation relating to the race between the two men, the latter remarked to Coker that “Captain Henry was a very nice man and ought to be elected.” “Yes,” replied Mr. Coker, Captain Henry looks nice enough, but he is a terrible liar.” Mr. Yocum succeeded in defeating Henry and his friends rejoiced at the opportunity of sending him to Little Rock to represent in the legislature. When the war between the states broke out, Mr. Yocum sympathized with the south, but he was too old and feeble to enlist in the army. One day during the fall of 1862, he was arrested for being a southern man and taken to Springfield, Missouri, where he was imprisoned and compelled to suffer from disease and vermin until the following December when he was released. Sick and without money, he left the door of the prison house and walked and crawled all day. At night he found himself at “June” Campbell’s four miles south of Springfield. The poor suffering old man was completely exhausted. Exertion and disease had took away his strength and he was in a dying condition. He and Campbell were friends and when Yocum reached his residence, Mr. Campbell and his family did all in their power to relieve his suffering, but their efforts were unavailing, for in a few hours Mr. Yocum entered the great valley of darkness called death where there was no more fears of gloomy dungeons., starvation, and ill treatment. Ah, how much sweeter is death to the sufferer while in the hands of kind, loving friends than to have to pass your last hours while in the power of an enemy on the inside of a prison wall. Mr. Campbell, aided by his family, dug a grave on a knoll on his farm and here the mortal remains of this old pioneer of Arkansas was deposited. Thus passed away one of Marion County’s old timers and one among the best of citizens.
STIRRING SCENES IN THE EARLY DAYS OF YELLVILLE, ARKANSAS
By S. C. Turnbo
Two miles west of Yellville, Arkansas, where the Yellville and Harrison wagon road passes over a bluff is a pretty view of Crooked Creek. Nature’s scenery, including farms and farm houses, is delightful to the eye. This bird’s-eye view of the charming valley of Crooked Creek is a sample of the magnificent scenery of wooded hills and fine farms found along this noted stream. Here on this bluff is where the iron horses of the White River Branch of the Missouri Pacific Railway passes along at full speed which reminds us that no country is so rough that a railroad cannot be constructed through it. In this part of the valley, as viewed from the wagon way or railroad is where Josiah Bancum and Priscilla, his wife, located in 1845. Among Mr. Bancum’s children is Dave, who was eight years old when his parents came to Marion County and first saw the beautiful waters of Crooked Creek. He was born in Maury County, Tennessee, in 1837. When the war broke out in 1861, Dave took sides with the south and cast his lot with the lost cause. As the war went on Dave Bancum proved to be an excellent teamster. He was so skillful in this line that he was promoted to the rank of regimental wagon master, which was a responsible position. He had the confidence of officers and men and he was claimed to be one of the best wagon masters in the Trans-Mississippi department. While our Brigade, which was commanded by General J. C. Tappan, was on detached service in Louisiana, the men of our regiment knew that the wagon train would reach camp promptly each night as long as Dave Bancum had charge of them and the enemy had not captured them.
In relating accounts of Yellville and vicinity, Mr. Bancum says that his father, on his arrival on Crooked Creek, rented land of Jesse Wickersham, son of Daniel Wickersham. Daniel was living then on Mill Creek one mile south of Yellville. John Wickersham, brother of Jesse, was selling groceries in Yellville when we arrived. John Martin and Jesse Wickersham owned a partnership store at Yellville. Jim Wilson was selling goods there, too. Mike Mathis lived one-half mile below town. Dave Stinnette lived on what is now the William Wilkerson farm one and three-quarter miles west of Yellville. John Powell lived on Crooked Creek, on what is now the Tom Davenport land. John Rose owned a little mill on Greasy Creek. Billy Brown, who was afterward made sheriff and was killed near the village of Dubuque, while acting in discharge of his duty, lived seven miles west of Yellville. All these names mentioned were here before we arrived or near about the time we did. My father was present when the bloody battle occurred in Yellville, between the Everettes on one side and the Kings on the other.
Yellville was only a small village then, but it was a noted rendezvous for settlers from far and near, and on this particular day the fight occurred a big crowd had collected. Among them were the Everettes and Kings, accompanied by their friends.
“At one time during the day,” said Mr. Bancum, “when both aides were ready for battle, a violent whirlwind swept through the village, collecting a great cloud of dust. The force of the wind was so strong that several hats and caps were sent whirling into the air and the men scattered for the time. The storm cloud that accompanied the wind was an ugly one and the blow had developed into a minimum tornado. Soon after the storm had passed on its way to the northeast, the men assembled together again and the quarrel was renewed,, which culminated in a battle the same day. Sim and Bart Everette were killed.
Jack King was desperately wounded and died the following day. Jim King was slightly wounded, a man named Watkins was wounded in the head, and another man’s arm was broken. The Everettes and Kings were prominent families.”
RIDING INTO THE FEDERAL LINES FOR SALT
By S. C. Turnbo
In an interview with Captain J. C. Rea one day at his home in Oakland, Arkansas, in the month of July, 1903, relating to the hardships and deprivations that the people of northern Arkansas endured from the effects of the Civil War, he gave me this interesting account. “You remember,” said he, “when we were on detached service in north Louisiana in 1863. Many of us taken sick from the effects of malaria in the swamps and bad water. I passed through a severe spell of swamp fever at Delhi. I lay many weeks before I was able to travel. Our regiment, the 27th Arkansas, had been ordered back to Little Rock, Arkansas, and when I reached the command there, I was permitted to return to my home in Marion County to recuperate my strength until I was able for duty. Bad health kept me at home several months. When winter time set in and we were ready to kill our fattening hogs, we found that we were without salt and none could be procured except within the federal lines, and there was none for sale nearer than Batesville, which was sold at an enormous price and which had to be paid in gold or silver, for the owners of the salt refused to take paper money of any sort. As soon as cold weather set in I become stouter. Having several fattening hogs on hand, I postponed the idea of going back to the army until I made an effort to supply the family with salt. So I told my people I was going to Batesville 80 miles down White River to purchase salt. But when I told the family what I intended to do they exclaimed in terror, “Why, that is beyond the federal lines and you will be killed and must not attempt to go there.” They all did their best to dissuade me from going. I told them that it was useless to fool away time in trying to prevent me from making the trip and that we stood in great need of salt and could not afford to do without it. And I went to work to prepare myself for the journey by discarding my military uniform and donning an old ragged cast-off suit of citizens clothes, and put on an old flopped-brim hat and borrowed an old shell of a saddle and with a few $20 gold pieces in my pocket that we had saved to meet emergencies with, I mounted a horse and rode to Batesville. I had no trouble in penetrating the enemies’ lines and rode boldly into town and bought a bushel of salt by paying $20 for it and started on the return back and reached home in safety with it.”
THE COMMANDER OF THE COMPANY REFUSED TO PREFER CHARGES AGAINST THEM
By S. C. Turnbo
To show how fearless some officers were in war times in protecting the rights of their men, we will give an instance of the kind which occurred in the month of February, 1863, while our regiment, the 27th Arkansas, was in winter quarters two miles south of Little Rock, Arkansas. When our company (A) was first organized, the men were sworn into service for 12 months only. Soon after this orders were received from the confederate government by the recruiting officers to cease taking in men for one year and swear them in for three years or during the war. When the time of the 12 months men had expired, they expected to receive an honorable discharge. They were disappointed, however, for they were told that they must remain in the army until the close of the war. No doubt if any other officer except Colonel J. R. Shaler had been in command of the regiment, these men would have re-enlisted and remained with us, but as it was a number of them refused to stay and left camp. Among the 12 months men whose time had expired were three brothers of the name of Tom, John, and Jim Wood, sons of Johnie Wood who lived on the old Belfonte road five miles west of Yellville, Arkansas. These three men were not so fortunate as the rest for a few days after they had left Little Rock on their way home, they were arrested on the road by some cavalry men and brought back to camp as prisoners and put under guard. Shaler went to work at once to work up a scheme to have the men court martialed and shot for desertion. Lieutenant Curtis Rea, who died at Oakland, Arkansas, the 29 of March, 1907, was in command of our company when the boys were brought into camp, and after Shaler had them placed in the guard house he sent for Lieutenant Rea to report to his quarters. When the officer arrived, the Colonel informed him that he must prefer charges against the Wood boys as deserters, which Rea, refused to do, giving as a reason that the men were good soldiers, that their time of service had expired, and that they were under the impression that they had a right to go home, and ought to receive an honorable discharge from the army. The Colonel grew angry at these words and told Rea that he would not tolerate such language from one inferior in rank to him and bluntly informed the commander of the company that he must prefer charges against them as he was ordered to. At this Rea says, “I cannot do this under the circumstances. If they were real deserters, it would be my duty to do this, but I do not consider it my duty to do so in this case, and gave his superior officer to understand that he would not bring charges against the men. “Well, Lieutenant Rea,” said the Colonel “if you don’t bring charges against them willingly, I will compel you to do it.” It was now that Rea’s temper was rising and he looked at his Colonel in the face and says, “How will you compel as you threaten to do?” And Shaler replied “I will have you court martialed for contempt and disobedience of orders.” This last threat by the Colonel made Lieutenant Rea more defiant than before, and he replied immediately, “Colonel Shaler, court martial me and be damned if you want to. I will not bring charges against them boys.” and turned on his heels and walked back to his quarters. The Colonel, finding that he was not able to frighten nor drive Rea to have the Wood boys punished, decided that it was the best policy for himself to release the boys, and the prisoners were set at liberty in less than an hour afterward, and for the friendship that Rea had shown them, they remained in the company until the end of the war.
DRAGGED A DEAD MAN FROM THE ROAD
By S. C. Turnbo
Among my collection of war time accounts is the following which was furnished me by Jesse J. Rhodes, a veteran of the Civil War on the Union side and served in Company C, 24 Missouri Infantry and took part in the Battle of Pleasant Hill where he was wounded in the left leg. His captain, Uriah Johnson., was killed at Pleasant Hill. Mr. Rhodes said that long before his regiment was sent to Louisiana, he was detailed one day with other soldiers to guard a supply train between Rolla and Lebanon, Missouri, and while passing over the road between Big and Little Piney Creeks, he and Bill Swearingin, a soldier mate, were walking together and they discovered an object lying in the grass a few yards to the right of the road, and on approaching we found that it was a dead man lying on his face with a bullet hole in the back of his head. The body was well dressed in black citizen’s clothes. We reported our find to Captain William Martindale, who was in command of us. Martindale reported it to the commanding officer at Waynesville and who said that he would send a detail of men there to bury the dead body. After we had been gone a few days, the guard with the train returned back over the same road and I and Swearingin stopped where we found the dead man to find out if he was buried, and discovered a trail where the dead man was dragged along through the grass and after following it 100 yards into the head of a little hollow, we found the same dead body with a rope around his neck. If a detail had been sent there to bury him, they or someone else had put the rope around his neck and dragged him off and left him like they would a dead brute.
A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE IN THE CIVIL WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
On the night of the 31st of August, 1906, I saw a man of the name of Jim Thomas at Mr. Bud Sherrod’s, who lives near Hercules in Taney County, Missouri. Mr. Thomas said he lived at Brown Branch on Beaver Creek and was only a small boy during the great struggle between the North and South 1861-5. In relating war time reminiscences he said that he met an ex-federal soldier who lived on Swan Creek in Christian County, Missouri, who informed him that he served in the war from the beginning to the end and that received 13 wounds in the battles of the war that he took part in. He showed me the scars that was left after the wounds had healed over and it seemed unreasonable to think how he could survive the war. Part of them were flesh wounds and other were organic. He certainly bore a charmed life. A bullet had broke his right arm and the result was a piece of bone six inches in length had come out. This man also informed me that on one occasion his company went into a battle with 80 men and 74 were killed and the other six were wounded, including himself. “I have forgotten this man’s name,” said Mr. Thomas “but he died on Swan Creek in 1894, but I disremember where he is buried.”
A LITTLE INCIDENT OF WAR TIMES
By S. C. Turnbo
One rainy afternoon late during the Civil War, a company of federal soldiers who were mounted discovered where five horsemen had rode along a few hours previous. The trail was found on the Little North Fork in Ozark County, Missouri. The travelers were headed toward Big Creek and the union soldiers gave pursuit. The party that the soldiers were following seemed to be traveling rapidly and the soldiers likewise pursued them. Night settled down and the rain set in harder and the beds of the hollows were soon little rivulets. Though it was cloudy and raining hard, yet the moon was full and it was not very dark. The soldiers urged their horses forward, for they knew they were southern men making their way south, and hurried on through the mud and rain to kill or capture them. The majority of the pursuing cavalry men were expert guides, for they had been born and reared in the Ozark region an number of them had killed deer and turkey on this same 1 they were riding over, and the fresh torn-up ground torn up by the horses’ feet of the southerners made were easily followed. In the course of a few hours the union party reached the crest of the divide between the breaks of Lower Turkey and Big Creeks and onward they pushed forward until they reached the Berry Morris place on the east side of Big Creek known now as the “Buisness” Smith place. They halted at the Morris house and roused the family from sleep and inquired if they had seen or heard anyone pass. The woman told them they had and that part or all of the party had taken shelter in the barn that stood near the house. The federals dismounted and surrounded the barn and ordered them out. The southern men were asleep. They were very tired, cold, wet, and sleepy. When they woke up, their enemy ordered them to surrender for the enemy had got possession of their horses and knowing they had small chance to escape they gave themselves up as prisoners. The five southern men proved to be good citizens of Greene County, Missouri, and were making their way south and had taken shelter in this old makeshift for a barn to remain until daylight, not thinking they were being pursued. It is said that one of the men was named Smith and that his father was in the banking business at Springfield. It was said that their captors treated them with great respect.
“OH, BOYS, SHOOT ME AGAIN”
By S. C. Turnbo
We have on a few occasions criticized the way some of the commanders of the confederate army had men shot for desertion. The Civil War was between ourselves, some believed one way and others saw different. Hundreds and thousands took their stand at the commencement of the war and remained true to their convictions. These men belonged to both sides. But there were others that fought in the southern army that did not desire to take any part in Civil War and wanted to be with their families in order to give them protection as far as possible from thieves and irregulars of both sides, but were forced into the army. But they, having no interest or love for war, would sometimes leave without permission and visit their families and were arrested and brought back to camp charged with the crime of desertion, court martialed and executed. Mr. Fie Snow, who was a confederate soldier under the command of Captain Charles Newman, Company F, Fagan’s 22nd Arkansas Regiment of Infantry. Colonel Fagan, after he was promoted to a Brigadier General, was succeeded in the command of the regiment by Colonel Jim King. “One day,” said Mr. Snow, “while we were in Camp Marrard just south of the Arkansas River from Van Buren, a bunch of our cavalry brought two of our men into camp that had gone home without leave, and were reported as deserters. They were put under a strict guard and word was sent to General T. C. Hindman. The two men were court martialed and sentenced to be shot and General Hindman approved of it. The time of execution was set on the following day after they were condemned.
When the detail was drawn to do the shooting, I was compelled to be on that detail. Sometime before the hour that the execution was to occur the two unfortunate men were conducted under a heavy guard to the northeast corner of the Marrard Prairie where part of the army had assembled by order of Hindman to witness the execution. After the preliminaries had been completed the two men were ordered to stand up side and side and their legs were pinioned together and their hands were tied behind their backs, then they were blindfolded and our detail which was in command of Captain Newman, who had volunteered to take charge of us, was ordered up and the officer in command of us lined us up in front of the doomed men and the usual order ready, aim, fire in such cases was given us. At the report of the guns one of the men fell back dead and the other dropped to the ground awfully wounded, his suffering was so great that he lay writhing on the ground in agony and cried out in piteous tones, “Oh, boys, shoot me again and end this torture. My suffering is unbearable.” Captain Newman ordered six of the men to reload their guns and while this was going on the captain ordered us to raise the man up and seat him against a tree, and as soon as the men had finished reloading their guns, a second volley was fired into his chest which killed him instantly. Fortunately for myself, I was not one of the six men that had to reload and shoot again, but I was one of them that was ordered to raise the man up and put him against the tree, which I obeyed. But to my surprise and satisfaction, I discovered afterward that my gun failed to discharge its contents by snapping only. I had a great aversion in the wholesale shooting men and rejoiced to know that a bullet from my gun did not help murder these men. But I kept this to myself as long as I remained in the army.”
WAR AND ITS VICTIMS
By S. C. Turnbo
Among the ghastly scenes of war days is an account furnished me by Ben Hager, a non-commissioned officer who served in the federal army and who was raised in Madison County, Arkansas. Mr. Hager said, “I want to give you a brief history of the death of ten southern men, part of which belonged to the confederate army and the others were sympathizers with the south. Some of them were young men, others had sons in the southern army. I cannot call to mind any of their names now, nor do I know who killed them, but they were all killed on the Breaks of Richland Creek some five or more miles west of Huntsville, Arkansas. I understood that their executioners gave them their choice of being shot to death or be sent to prison in the north, and it is said that they preferred death rather than suffer with cold and rough treatment in the federal prisons in the cold climate. Brave men, they met a horrible fate, but such is war, its destiny and results and the best of men of both sides were slain as well as others. After the ten men had been dead three weeks, I was ordered to take a detail of soldiers and bury the bodies. Three of the men on my detail were Ham Guthrie, Harry Silvie, and Sam Alderson. After we managed to procure a hoe and a shovel, we rode to the place where we were told that the dead men were left and found that the ten bodies had been thrown into a rail pen which contained wheat straw. They lay in a pile on straw and had been covered over with the same material. The bodies were in an advanced state of decomposition and when we taken the straw off them they presented a sickening sight and we could hardly handle them. We dug a grave as best we could with the tools at hand and after we had got it deep enough, we spread a blanket down in the bottom of the grave, then we carried the bodies from the pen one at a time and placed them carefully on the blanket until we had formed a layer in the bottom of the grave, and we had to place the remaining dead on their dead comrades until we had put them all in the grave and after this, service was performed, we spread another blanket over them and filled in the dirt and left the new-made grave holding these victims of war.”
HOT WORDS PASS BETWEEN TWO OFFICERS UNEQUAL IN RANK
By S. C. Turnbo
On the morning of the 13 of November, 1862, while we were in camp on Frog Bayou that empties into the Arkansas River between Ozark and Van Buren, Lieutenant J. C. (Curtis) Rea of our company (A), 27th Arkansas, was officer of the guard. A short while before we started on the march, J. R. Shaler, the Colonel of our regiment, gave instructions to the officer of the day how he desired Lieutenant Rea and the guard to take their position in line during the day’s travel of the regiment as rear guard. This was given to the officer of the day in regular form which of course Lieutenant Rea intended to obey. When the men of the regiment was formed in line ready to start, Shaler rode up to Rea and his detail of men and gave the officer orders which conflicted with those he had already received from the officer of the day. As the officer of the day was not present to hear the orders from the Colonel, Rea refused to obey them unless Shaler countermanded his first orders through the officer of the day, and he would then respect and obey them. At this Shaler drew his sword and raised it as if he intended to strike Rea with it. When the Colonel did this, Rea, who was standing near his Colonel who was on his horse, jerked his sword from its scabbard in readiness to defend himself. As he did so Shaler backed his horse away for he saw at once that he could not bulldoze or force him to obey an order in an irregular way and rode away, and as he was leaving Rea cursed the Colonel most vehemently for a while. The writer was standing in a few feet of the two officers when this occurred.
READING THE BIBLE BY THE REFLECTION OF LIGHT FROM A BURNING TOWN
By S. C. Turnbo
One that never experienced the terrors and destruction of life and property in Civil War days can hardly realize the awful damages done by either armies. Cities, towns, villages, and dwellings were all liable to go down in smoke and ashes. Mr. Ben Hager, who was a young fellow during the Civil War and who lived in Madison County, Arkansas, relates an account of the burning of Huntsville, the county seat of Madison. He said that he did not see the town while it was burning down but he saw the light of it. Here is how he told it.
We were living on Holmans creek two miles south of town.
The destruction of the place occurred about the last of February, 1863, and was set on fire on account of three men being killed near there. The town burned in the night while the weather was calm, cloudy, and no moon. I stood in the dooryard at home and watched the light of the burning town several hours. A high hill lay between our house and the town. The reflection of the fire was so bright and distinct that my father took his family Bible out into the yard and read nearly a chapter in the Book by the reflection of light from the destruction of the town. The only business houses left were Sam Kenners store house and Tom Berry’s Hotel and Even Polk’s Hotel with seven or eight dwellings among them was a house that belonged to Mr. Polk and one that belonged to Dr. Sanders. There were estimated to be 150 buildings of the town destroyed by fire.
A MAN ESCAPES DEATH BY LEAPING UP AND RUNNING
By S. C. Turnbo
Among those who have contributed accounts of war days items is Mr. C. C. (Charley) Hodge, son of William Riley Hodge and Kissiah Elizabeth (Vinson) Hodge. Charley Hodge was born in Gibson County, Kentucky, June 27, 1848. His father came to Butler County, Missouri, in 1849, and lived there until in 1851 and moved with his family from there to Sharp County, Arkansas, and settled near Ash Flat. Charley says that he remembers a few names of the settlers who lived in that county when his father went there. He said that Charley Shaver lived at Evening Shade and Jasper Wilson lived at Ash Flat and that Dick Armstrong lived a mile and a half from Ash Flat and that the old man Jimmie Rials was a prominent farmer and was one of the first settlers of Sharp County. In furnishing accounts of war times in that part of Arkansas, Mr. Hodge said that one Saturday in the late afternoon, five men were picked up by their enemies in the neighborhood of Ash Flat and taken into the woods and halted and commanded to kneel and get ready for death, for they were informed that they would be summarily executed on the spot. One of the doomed men was Nat Malone and another was Bob Rickey, I disremember the names of the other three. The victims were given only a few minutes to prepare their souls to meet their Maker. At the report of the guns in the hands of the firing party, four of the men fell backward in the throes of death. Just a moment before the guns were discharged one of the men leaped up and ran aways as fast as he could and escaped death, and they never did succeed in capturing him again. All of these men lived within two miles of the place where they were executed. One Sunday the following day after the four men were shot, a wagon was taken to where the dead men lay and the bodies were loaded into the wagon like putting in dead hogs and hauled a mile and a half northwest of Ash Flat where they received burial.
HOW A SOLDIER EXCHANGED HATS WITH A SMALL BOY
By S. C. Turnbo
There were many little things done in war days that seemingly were tame affairs, yet they are worth mentioning. Among these small incidents is one which Clabe Mahan furnished me, who said that he was quite small while the war was going on, but said he, “There is one little incident occurred in my presence that is still fresh in my mind. After my father Isaac Mahan left our home on Little North Fork and moved up near Rome in Douglas County, Missouri, a small boy was living with us of the name of Isaac Robertson. This boy owned a brand new hat which was not common for boys to have in those turbulent days. One day a large body of cavalry, while passing our house one of the men noticing young Robertson with a new hat on stopped at the yard gate and says “Little boy, let me see your hat.” and the boy not thinking of anything wrong being done to him walked across the yard to the gate where the soldier was on his horse, and before the unsuspecting child had time to hand him his hat which he was going to do for him to look at, the man reached over the fence and snatched the hat off of the boy’s head and pitched his old worn-out hat over into the yard and galloped off leaving the poor boy in mute astonishment. My brother Sam Mahan, who was also a little fellow, was standing under a small tree and one of the men pretended to shoot at him to frighten him and did shoot off a small :Limb just over his head, which soared Sam nearly to death. At the same time some of the men stopped and went into our house and took all the milk we had and Betsey Ann, one of my little sisters, began to cry for milk and one of the men who had a cup full of milk says, “Here, little girl, I will give my part of the milk back to you.”
A PARTY OF SOUTHERN SOLDIERS REFUSE TO APPROPRIATE A PAIR OF FEDERAL GLOVES
By S. C. Turnbo
It was not common in Civil War days for a war party to refuse to appropriate any property be it little or big if it belonged to the enemy and they were in reach of it. The following account was furnished me by Dave Fee of Peel, Arkansas, who in war times was a soldier on the southern side and be-longed to Captain Ben Ivey’s company, Colonel Schnavel’s Battallion. “One day in the month of December, 1864, after the Price raid into Missouri, I and three other members of our Battallion were on a scouting expedition near Jonesburrough in Cross County, Arkansas. Rations for ourselves and forage for our horses was exceedingly scarce with us and near noon we began to look about for something to eat and feed for our almost exhausted animals. As we rode along on Crawley’s Ridge we came to a house that had a fine prospect of furnishing us with food for ourselves and corn for our jaded horses, and we rode up to the yardgate and halted and found that there was no one there except the lady of the house and some children. We asked the woman what the chance was to get our dinners and have our horses fed there. She replied very kindly that we could dismount and take our horses to the barn and feed them and that she would also prepare dinner for us, and knowing that we were confederates, she informed us that her husband was in the federal army and that two of her brothers belonged to the confederate army, and that her desire was to treat both sides as nigh right as she was able to. She said that if a federal soldier came along and was hungry, she divided her eatables with him and she did the same with the southern men. She said she treated both sides alike or as near equal as she could. When we went to the barn, we found plenty of corn to feed our horses and when she announced dinner, we found plenty on the table and we fared sumptuously. When we had finished dining, we asked the lady our bill and she said nothing and refused to have pay for her trouble of preparing dinner for us and neither would she charge us anything for the corn we give our horses. After we had finished eating dinner, we soldiers retired into the sitting room to rest and wait for our horses to get done eating before starting out again. On going into the room, we saw a nice pair of buck-skin gloves lying on the mantle board. They were military gloves and belonged to the woman’s husband. We all stood in need of a pair of gloves, but we could not afford to take this pair, but we all tried them on our hands to see how they would look and fit our hands and then we laid them back on the mantlepiece. If the woman had acted very cold toward us and told us that her two brothers belonged to the federal army too, there is no doubt but that the gloves would have went with us. But as it was, we could not stoop so low as to take them and went away with a kind feeling for her and her husband as well as for her brothers.”
THE KILLING OF WILSE BROWN
By S. C. Turnbo
Just over the line In Cedar Creek Township in Marion County, Arkansas, is a little glade on top of a hill where an old trail leads over it from the lower end of the Panther Bottom to Big Creek. Another trailway leads from the old Magness Bottom across this path mentioned. The two trails cross each other near where there is a flat rock or low ledge. When the war between the states began, a man of the name of Wilse Brown lived on the right bank of the river just between the mouth of Trimble’s Creek and Becca’s Branch. In a year or more, Brown moved to Big Creek and lived on the Hugh Magness land known now as the Fately Place. Brown’s wife was named Margarette. Her father’s name was Ale Corn. Their oldest child was a girl and they called her Betsy Ann. Their next oldest was a boy named John who died soon after the close of the war. The next oldest child was a girl named Susan. Their baby was a boy and they called him Willie. While Wilse Brown was living on Big Creek, John Anderson, a brother of Archibald and Pew C. Anderson, lived on, the right bank of the river opposite the Panther Bottom. After Brown had moved to Big Creek, he soon reached the conclusion that it was the best for him to be on the south side of the river and decided to move across where Andersons lived. And one evening while the river was past fording, he procured a small dugout canoe and went over to Mr. Anderson’s for help to move and Anderson agreed to assist him to move across the river, and they were both to cross the river on the following morning in the canoe at the mouth of a deep rough hollow that empties into the river just below Pine Hollow. It seems that a scouting party of federals were watching for this appearance and some of them were concealed behind a large rock that lay on the bank of the river just-above the mouth of the hollow, and which was near the canoe landing, and when the two men in the dugout reached the shore from the right bank, the men lying in wait captured them. They were both taken on surprise and when the enemy ordered them to surrender, they could do nothing but give up at once. Their captors conducted them to the top of the bluff and on to the glade where the trails crosses each other, where they rejoined the main force and halted their prisoners and accused Brown of stealing two cows from Mr. Isaac Mahan, who lived on Little North Fork, which the man stoutly denied. At this one of his captors knocked him down with the breech end of his gun. The blow was a severe one, but it was not hard enough to stun him. Mr. Brown’s temper rose to a high pitch and without regard to his helpless condition as a prisoner, he rose to his feet with a rock in his hand and no doubt would have hurled it at the man who struck him, but before he had time to deal his assailant a return knock-down blow, he was shot dead. As Brown fell to the ground his left leg doubled up under him. They left the body where it fell and went on with Anderson and sent him to Springfield, Missouri, where he died in prison. Just before Mr. Anderson’s death, he contrived to smuggle a letter to his family which described how he and Brown was captured and the full details of the death of Wilse Brown. On the following day after Brown was shot and killed, Mrs. Jemima Carebolt and two of her daughters, Jane and Lucinda, and Brown’s wife and her children found the dead body. It was evident that they would have to obtain assistance to convey the body to a place of burial and some of the women notified Mr. Calvin Clark, who lived on Big Creek and he come and brought a big ox sled and yoke of cattle, and Mr. Clark and the women placed the dead body on the sled and Clark hauled it to the top of the bluff overlooking the upper part of the Joe Magness Bottom where it was taken off of the sled and carried down the old trailway into the upper end of the Bottom, where they dug a shallow grave in a thicket and the dead man was buried without a coffin and in the same clothes he was slain in. They made several ineffectual efforts to straighten his left leg and they were compelled to bury him with the leg doubled up under him. Many years afterward this land was put in cultivation and in the course of time the skeleton of a man was plowed up in the upper part of this bottom which was no doubt the remains of Wilse Brown.
SUBSTITUTING PIECES OF PLANK AND A DOOR SHUTTER FOR A COFFIN
By S. C. Turnbo
It is sad to reflect back to the turbulent days of the great conflict between the men of the north and south and write of the great number of men who were killed in South Missouri and North Arkansas. War means to destroy property and kill men, and many men of both sides bit the dust and weltered in their own blood. It is terrible to think back to those dark and gloomy days. How well the writer remembers Jonah Haworth, son of McCajor Haworth who lived on the south side of the river from Forsyth, Missouri. I and Jonah were schoolmates together in 1860 and passed many hours in friendship together. During the Civil War he was killed in Boone County, Arkansas. His fate was a horrible one. After he was shot and wounded the enemy beat him on the head with a pistol until the angel of death spread his wings of relief over him. I am told that he was buried near the Jim Upton land on West Sugar Loaf Creek. I was reliably informed that after his death some women and a few small boys took charge of the body and dug a grave near where he was slain. A coffin could not be had and no vault was dug, but two pieces of plank the length of the body was placed side and side in the bottom of the grave and the remains of Haworth was placed on them, and a, piece of plank was then placed edgeways on each side of the body and a door shutter was put on then and the dirt thrown in and a little mound was formed over this victim of the war. I am told that the names of the ladies who took part in the burial were Mrs. Martha Jackson, Mrs. Betsey Moore and two of Mrs. Moore’s sisters, Mary and Ada,, and two of Alph Cook’s daughters, Miss Minerva and Elizabeth. How kind of those Christian-hearted women in performing this sad duty which necessarily devolved upon them. Let us never forget the kind and brave women of war times.
HOW I WAS BEFRIENDED ONCE IN WAR TIMES
By S. C. Turnbo
The first night after the arrival of our regiment on Polk Bayou three miles above Batesville, Arkansas, which was on the 28 of July, 1862, I with 93 other Privates was used for a chain guard around our camp with instructions to halt everyone that approached in 15 paces of us and allow no one to pass into camp or out of it without the countersign. We were ordered to pace our beats constantly. Our camp was on the east bank of the Bayou just below Brickey’s Mill and near the mouth of Miller’s Creek. The place of this encampment was known as Camp Bragg. The camp was just below a waste field where there was big timber and dense thickets in places. The night was very dark and where they posted me was in a thick patch of brush where I could not walk to and fro without gouging my eyes out against the limbs and after the relief was gone I quietly sat down and waited for time to pass. When I grew drowsy I would get up and stamp around, then sit down again and would get up again when I become sleepy. Finally I heard the relief guard go thrashing along in the thicket 50 yards or more outside of the guard line. They had missed their way and I was amused to hear them floundering about, did not halt them nor reveal my place on the line for I was told to not halt anybody unless they got in 15 paces of me and I wanted to obey my orders. Finally, when they found the right direction again and approached in 15 paces of me, I halted them and ordered the corporal of the guard to advance and give the countersign, which he did. The corporal was very angry because I did not halloo at them while they were hunting around in the brush to discover me, and said he was going to report me to Colonel Shaler. I told him that I had no instructions to halt men 40 and 50 yards distant off. He flew into a rage and said that I was asleep or I would have challenged them before they got In 15 paces. I told him I had no orders to do that. The new-fledged corporal was so hot with anger and wanted to be promoted for doing an act of some kind charged me with going to sleep on post, neglect of duty and disobedience of orders. I was not guilty, but I had to bear it all the same, and on the following morning, Colonel Shaler had me placed under guard. I was kept in close confinement for six days in an old log cabin that stood in the edge of the waste field. On the morning of the 7th day which was Monday, Colonel Shaler ordered the officer of the guard to send me to his quarters under the escort of two guards. On arriving at his tent, he told me to come in and after a short rough talk to me, he said, “I intend to have you shot.” and ordered the guards to take me back to the guardhouse. I asked permission of the Colonel to explain my case to him, but with a haughty air he ordered me away. While the guard was taking me through our company grounds, some of the boys asked me what Shaler said to me and I told them how it was. In two hours after I was put back into the guardhouse, Shaler come into the cabin and took me by the right hand and told me in a very kind way that I was released and to report to my company for duty. I was so disgusted at the way he abused me in his tent that I never thanked him and wondered why he set me at liberty so soon after treating me so harsh. But I soon learned the course of it as soon as I reached the men and officers of our company. The officers had taken steps immediately to prevent Shaler from having me court martialed for they knew he had no authority to place me under arrest even. They informed me that as soon as I had gone back into the guardhouse, Lieutenant Curtis Rea called on Shaler to intercede in my behalf when the renowned Colonel ordered him-back to his quarters. Then Captain Fred Woods visited Shaler in his den and he treated him like-wise. But they both promptly paid him another visit. Major John Methvin, hearing of it, also paid the Colonel a visit. He was cut short as the others had been. He then consulted with Captain Wood, Lieutenant Rea, Lieutenant “Bud” Woods and other officers and went back to Shaler and convinced him that if he undertook to have me shot it would cause more shooting. Each one of these officers informed me of the part he taken in my behalf and a good number of the private soldiers said they had put their guns in good shape for use and intended to use them if Shaler made an attempt to have me put on trial for my life. If I had been guilty of the charge, the men and officers would not have taken it into their hands, but as it was, they were convinced that I was innocent and they were deter-mined to defend me and thus by making a bold stroke, Shaler released me at once. A man cannot realize the use of a true and faithful friend until he stands in need of one, and I felt very grateful to the men and officers who took part in my defense, and have never forgot the memory of any of them.
EX-GOVERNOR, ELIAS N. CONWAY
By S. C. Turnbo
During the coming of the federal army in September, 1863, to capture Little Rock, Arkansas, under the command of General Steele, the old citizens of Little Rock had a company organized for defence of the town. These men, though a number of them were old and feeble, were drilled and instructed every day in the art of war for a two weeks or more before the town fell into the hands of the enemy. They were all gray-headed men; and among them was the renowned ex-Governor Elias N. Conway. The author saw the ex-Governor several times in the ranks of the company. Mr. Conway was considered by the people of Arkansas as one of their best governors while he was serving out the term of his office. He was greatly esteemed by the people of Little Rock and was just as ready to serve in the ranks in defense of his state against the invaders as he was to serve the people as Governor.
SACRIFICED HIS LIFE FOOLISHLY
By S. C. Turnbo
The following account of a death at the beginning of the war was related to me by Mr. Sam Griffin who, when I interviewed him, lived near Aneta, Indian Territory.
“Bill Grider and Easter Grider, his wife, lived at the village of Shanghai, Polk County, Missouri. They were known as respected people and good neighbors. Mr. Grider was a Methodist preacher and when the troubled days of the early sixties come up he argued in favor of the southern people, but he took no active part more than heated discussions against the United States Government and while the names of a number of men were being enrolled for service in the federal army, Mr. Grider talked too much and some of his neighbors and influencial friends whose sentiments were to the opposite of his own advised him to be careful and bridle his tongue, for it was a serious time for men to exercise their speech too freely. But Grider failed to heed their instructions. At last when a company of federal soldiers were organized in the county of Polk, Grider’s language in opposition to the organization of the enlistment of men in defense of the union varied from bad to worse until it reached the ears of the authorities at Bolivar and a few soldiers were detailed and ordered to arrest him and bring him to Bolivar. Though Mr. Grider gave himself up without resistance, yet he considered his arrest more of a joke than reality and while on their way to Bolivar, he told his captors that he was not going to town, but intended to return home, that he wanted his liberty and was going to make his escape from them. The men who had him in custody told him not to attempt to get away from them. They were all acquainted with him, part of which were his neighbors and personal friends, and when he made the threat to escape, they begged him not to do so for if he did it would be at the peril of his life, for according to their oath they were duty-bound to conduct him to Bolivar and turn him over to the military authorities, and for his sake and their sakes not to undertake such a hazardous thing as to try to make his escape for according to their instructions, if he did make an effort to get away, they would be compelled to shoot him. Mr. Grider only laughed. at this and treated the advice very light. It was now that the soldiers watched him with vigilant eyes for after he had made the threats to escape from them, they were determined he should not get away from them. They were all horseback and so was the prisoner. The soldiers were well armed. They traveled on without any serious trouble until they reached Slagle’s Creek and just as they were passing a thicket, Grider leaped from his horse and darted for the thicket, but he had not got but a few yards from his horse when three of the soldiers, without asking him to halt, for they were convinced that it was useless, aimed their guns at him and fired simultaneously and Grider dropped to the ground dead, and the soldiers rode on. His family was notified and they went to where he lay dead and took the body home and gave it burial in the Enon Graveyard. Mr. Grider was the first man killed in Polk County, Missouri, over the issue of the war.” Mr. Griffin was a veteran on the union side and gave me this account one day in August, 1906.
OPPOSED TO CIVIL WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
The author of these stories heard Clabe Briggs, who was a member of the 14th Arkansas Confederate Regiment and lived in Crocket township, Marion County, Arkansas, say that while he was serving in the army east of the Mississippi River, he knew of a soldier in the Confederate Army who lived in Tennessee that refused to fight in battle. He said that he was opposed to war and that it was not proper for the people of the United States to fall out with each other and war among themselves. He informed the officer that he was willing to drive a team or do any other work in the army except fighting. “You can court martial me and have me shot or hung if you choose, but I never intend to fire a gun to hurt anyone if I can help it. I will agree to perform any duty that is imposed on me that I am able to do except to go into ranks and go into battle.” They did not make him fight, but turned a. team and wagon over to him and the man took charge of them and proved to be faithful at this duty to the end of the war. I heard Mr. Briggs relate this account on the 19 of February, 1878. Briggs was a faith soldier in the southern army. He died in 1879 and if I mistake not lies buried in the cemetery at Lead Hill, Arkansas.
On the 12 of August, 1906, Mr. Sam Griffin of near Aneta, Indian Territory, and who was a veteran of the Civil War on the union side, gave me an account of a similar case to the foregoing that Mr. Briggs told me of Mr. Griffin said that Elisha Wood, who lived in Benton County, Arkansas, refused to fight in the War Between the North and South. He said that he was willing to go to war against a foreign foe, but never to fight his own people. He said the people of the United States should live as one family and not go to war with each other. He refused to enlist on either side willingly, but after the war had progressed a while, he was forced into the southern army. Said he, “You can force me to join you but you can’t make me fight for I will neither fight for or against the people of the north and south. One day the command of southern men that Woods belonged to encountered a command of federals, and during the engagement Wood was made to stay in ranks during the fight, but said he, “I loaded and shot just like the others did, but I took care to elevate the muzzle of my gun high enough so the balls would pass over the heads of the opposing forces. At one time the federal troops made a charge and succeeded in driving the southern men back and while the southerners were falling back, I discovered two logs lying in a few feet of each other which afforded shelter from the bullets of both sides and I lay down between them. After the confederates had retreated a short distance, they made a stand and after rallying their men went on. When the federals come up to where I was between the two logs, I surrendered to them and after telling them how it was with me, the officers informed me that if I aid not want to fight for the south, they would not hold me a prisoner of war, and if I did not wish to fight for the north, they would send me north, but in either case, I must take the oath of allegiance to the Government of the United States, which I did and went on my way up north.
JOYFUL MEETING BETWEEN FATHER AND SON
By S. C. Turnbo
In the memorable war between the states many families were divided against each other. Father against son and brother against brother. One shed his blood for the south and the other for the north. It was a hard struggle for families ties to be broken in this way and war against each other, but it is true a number of instanced of this kind occurred. One day in the month of August, 1906, Mr. Sam Griffin, formerly of Texas County, Missouri but then lived near Oneta, Indian Territory, informed me that he was acquainted with a case of father and son fighting against each other in Civil War times. He said that Bill Hughes lived on Elk Creek in Texas County, and who, when the people of the north and south fell out with each other and went to war, Mr. Hughes used his influence for the stars and stripes and when President Lincoln made his first call for volunteers, he enlisted in the federal army. Mr. Hughes’ son whose name was also William loved the south the best and he went into the confederate army. Each man loved the cause he contended for and both stood firm for their convictions on Sunday, the 7 of December, 1862. Hindman and Blunt with their respective armies met at Prairie Grove and history tells us what was done there. William Hughes belonged to General Hindman’s army and his father was in General Bluntts command. During the desperate struggle between the two forces that day, William was captured by the federals and with other prisoners was sent to the rear. On the following day after the battle was fought, Mr. Hughes, who come out of the fight all right, ask permission to be allowed to visit the prisoners for the purpose of looking after his son for he was convinced that he had taken Dart in the battle and as he had not found him among the dead and wounded, he might be among the prisoners, for he knew if William was in the engagement he was in the thickest of the fight and was liable to be captured. His request was granted and off he went with an anxious heart to where the confederate prisoners were under guard and sure enough his son was among the captured. The father was nearly overcome with joy to meet his son, though it was embarrassing to meet each other under the circumstances, but each of them was well and neither one had not been touched by a bullet. After the joyful greeting had somewhat subsided, Mr. Hughes turned to some of his comrades who were standing nearby and, with tear-stained cheeks, says, “Boys, this is my oldest son, he loves the stars and bars and I love the star spangled banner. Treat my boy well.” Those that wore the blue were glad to see father and son meet together and bestow their affections on each other, and those veteran men who knew how to treat a prisoner of war with respect promised Mr. Hughes that his son should not be mistreated while he was in their hands.
A SOLEMN SCENE
By S. C. Turnbo
On the 24 of March, 1907, Mr. W. F. (Bill) Hackett of near Protem, Missouri, related the following to me. “I am a son of William and Sarah (Smith) Hackett. I was born in Lawrence County, Indiana, April 24, 1844. When I was four years of age, my parents brought me to Grayson County, Kentucky. My father and mother died many years ago and lie buried in the graveyard at the Pleasant Grove church house in Hardin County. When the war broke out, I enlisted in Company A, 27th Kentucky Regiment on the union side and tried to do my duty as a federal soldier, but I respected the brave men of the south as well as our own of the north. When the great conflict was over and the warriors of both sides settled down in peace, I married Miss Mary E. Cole on the 3rd day of March, 1868. In 1890 I moved from Hardin County, Kentucky, to Taney County, Missouri. We crossed the Mississippi River at Cape Girardieu and followed the main wagon road from there to Doniphan in Biply County, Missouri. A man of the name of Thomas Lucas traveled with us from Kentucky to Doniphan. One evening while we were passing along in a steep hollow, we came to 24 graves that were separated into two groups. It was evident that this was not a regular graveyard where the citizens of that neighborhood deposited their dead, but was done at some period during the war. There were nine graves bunched together in one spot and sixteen in another. We did not learn the history of these graves until the following morning when we met a men who on inquiry informed us that two war parties met there in the bloody days and fought a desperate battle, and when the fight ended nine federals and sixteen confederates lay dead on the hard contested field. On the following evening after we passed these graves, we arrived at Doniphan and I suppose the graves are something near twenty miles east of Doniphan.”
A WAR TIME INCIDENT IN DOUGLAS COUNTY, MISSOURI
By S. C. Turnbo
It is something serious to think how cruel some men were in the Civil War. Billy Keesee, son of Paton Keesee, was killed during the great struggle. His death occurred at a small place known as Vera Cruse in Douglas County, Missouri, which was then the county seat of Douglas before it was removed to Ava. Keesee was a southern man and was a member of Captain Johnson’s company. It was reported that he charged his horse over a little boy and killed him and as the nearly distracted mother ran up to try to save her child from the relentless man, Keesee spurred his horse up against her and knocked her down. The company that Keesee was with numbered near 25 men and a man of the name of Hite who lived in Webster County was their guide. It seems that a force of federals was near at hand. Soon after the little boy was killed Keesee himself was shot. It seems that a man who killed him was concealed in Bobby Hicks’ house. Mr. Hicks was once sheriff of Ozark County before Douglas County was organised. After Keesee was shot he rode nearly out of town before he fell from his horse. It was reported that the ball passed entirely through his body and he suffered great agony before death relieved him. He fell in A few feet of a deep gully. When he fell from his horse one of the company dismounted and caught his horse and secured his shot gun. The body was left where it fell and it was said by reliable authority that the hogs devoured part of the body before the remains were finally buried. William Keesee or Billy, as he was commonly called, was born on Little North Fork in Ozark County, Missouri, July 5th, 1839.
LOVE AND WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
The following account of war, love, and a wedding was told me by Mr. James S. Griffin, whose father, Anderson Griffin, settled in the southeast part of Texas County, Missouri, in 1850 where he resided on Hog Creek until in 1856 when he and his family moved into Polk County and settled on Slagle Creek nine miles south of Bolivar, the county seat of Polk County. James Griffin said that Polk County was comparatively a new county when his father moved into that part of Missouri. He said he was about 16 years old when his father moved there, but when the war broke out in 1861, part of the county was thickly settled. The people were divided in their sentiments and opinions regarding the war. Some were strong in their faith in the south. The same was expressed for the north by others. It was readily observed that when the people were in the act of clashing together it was not a difficult matter to distinguish who was for the north and who was for the south. I, like others, had my mind made up many months before I saw that war was inevitable and when uncle Abe Lincoln called for volunteers I enlisted in the federal army. The command I took membership in was Company A, the 8th Missouri Cavalry, commanded by Colonel John Gravelly, Captain McCabe, who was an Irishman was the commander of our company. I took part in the fight at LoneJack and Wilson Creek. In this last battle, I was in 50 yards of General Lyon when he fell from his horse. I also took part in the fight at Helena which was a hard fight. I was also in several skirmishes which is not worthy of mention at present. You will not consider it strange when I tell you that I married in the time of the war for that was common in the north and in the south, too. But I think I will astonish you when I tell you that I married a true southern girl. Her name was Jane Macky and was a daughter of Mrs. Rebecca Macky, widow lady of John Macky. I had been acquainted with her since we had lived in Polk County and she bore the reputation of being an honest and industrious girl. She would never pout or seem angry when in the presence of union soldiers. Her conversation was always pleasant and she would contend in a kind mild way for the southern soldiers and southern rights as she termed it, and was firm in what she said. She seemed so true and faithful to the southern cause that I admired her pluck and constant devotion and faith in the south.
She had a sister named Mandy who liked the south, too, but her love for it was not as deep-rooted in her bosom as her sister’s faith was. I recollect on one occasion while a small command of we soldiers were passing her mother’s house Jane greeted us in a kind manner and says “Hurrah for Jeff Davis and the Southern Confederacy.” Some of the boys said they thought she ought not be so bold in advocating southern sentiments so strong. Others said that she was not two-faced about it and that she was a brave girl. These last remarks pleased me for I was coming to the conclusion that she was a lovely being and a deep pang of love and admiration for her took possession of my heart but I kept it to myself until one day when I and a few other soldiers stopped a few minutes at her house to get water. I had a very nice ribbon that I was carrying with me and when she found it out she took it away from me and jokingly remarked that she had “captured my colors” which created a laugh among the others at my expense. I told Jane that as she had taken my ensign away from me that I did not intend to stop until I captured her heart. Soon after this I called on her and begged permission to be allowed to call at her house and spend a few hours in her company, which she granted, then I was happy. I called on her many times and the more the calls the more I loved my southern lady. When finally I told her I could not live without her and she agreed to marry me on this condition, that she believed I was a true union soldier and was not harsh in my expressions toward the south and that she was a friend to the south and that if they were wedded she would not trample on my rights and affections as a union soldier and she did not want me to abuse her rights as a southern woman and that she would be devoted to me as a true wife ought to be. Of course I agreed and we were married. The marriage occurred in 1864 and we could not be together all the time until Grant and Lee agreed to quit by General Lee surrendering to Grant, then we both lived happily together for forty-one years when my devoted companion that I had loved and cherished so long sickened and died. Her death occurred near Coweta, Indian Territory, and we laid her to rest in the Dick Bruner graveyard near Bruner’s Creek In a beautiful shady grove of timber a mile or two south of Coweta.
A PATHETIC SCENE ON THE BATTLEFIELD
By S. C. Turnbo
On the 18th of August, 1906, I met Mr. Jerry Roots at Coweta, Indian Territory, who lived then three miles and a half southeast of this place. Mr. Roots was a member of the 14th Kansas Cavalry in war times and was commanded by Colonel Moonlight. The letter of his company was H and the name of his Captain was Thomas Stevenson. He was born in Holt County, Missouri, March 7, 1846, and therefore quite young when the war commenced. Mr. Roots is a son of Crittendon and Phoebe Ann (Baldwin) Roots. Mr. Roots taken part in the Battle of Wilson Creek, Pear Ridge, and Prairie Grove. He also followed General Steele in his campaigns through Arkansas and was in the Battle of Jenkin’s Ferry on the Saline River some 55 miles from Little Rock on the 30th of April, 1864. In alluding to the fight at Prairie Grove he said that if General Hindman, the commander of the confederate forces, had not retreated at midnight the union army would have done so on the following morning. But as the southern men had given them full possession of the battleground it was not necessary for them to retreat. “On the morning after the battle was fought, ” said Mr. Roots, “the federal and confederate dead lay scattered over the field where the fight took place. Soon after sunrise an aged lady made her appearance at our picket line and ask permission to enter our line to search over the battleground for dead or wounded relatives. She said that her husband and sons belonged to the confederate army and they might be killed or wounded. If wounded she wanted to help them all she could. If dead she wanted to be with them and prepare the bodies for burial. Her request was granted at once and she thanked the men very kindly for passing her through the lines. She was certainly a noble wife and mother and a brave southern woman. A few hours after she was admitted on the field, a number of other women and old men and children come onto the battleground to hunt for their dead and wounded. It was not many hours before the first woman we speak of discovered the dead body of her husband and four sons lying in the cold embrace of death. They all lay near together. The woman gave up in grief and despair and after the bodies were placed together she stood and wept over them. We soldiers had met all kinds of sad scenes, these and the hardships we had underwent since we had been in the army, that our conscience was tough and our hearts were of stone. But the cries and lamentations of that heart-broken wife and mother was too much for us and many of us shed tears. In a, short while more our regiment was assigned to duty away from the heart-rending scene of the battleground and we were truly glad to get away from it.” Mr. Roots said that he served in the army until after peace was restored and was mustered out of the service at Fort Gibson, Indian Territory.
SAD AND SERIOUS RECOLLECTIONS OF WARDAYS
By S. C. Turnbo
On the 6th of August, 1907, I met Buck (L.M.) Toney, son of Captain L. D. Toney at Yellville, Arkansas, and I had an interview with him relating to the early days in Izard County, Arkansas. Mr. Toney said that he was born in north Alabama July 14, 1849, and come to Izard County with his parents in 1854 and his father settled on land on what is now known as Philadelphia Academy three miles northwest of Wild Haws. There is an excellent spring of water on this land and my father built the first cabin here. Curt Stephens, a slave holder, also lived near this land. Abe Byler was another early settler in this neighborhood and owned a big tannery. He purchased all the cattle hides that was in reach of him and tanned a great deal of leather which he sold to the settlers to make shoes out of. “I remember,” said Mr. Toney, “that my father bought leather from Mr. Byler and made our shoes himself, but he would not allow us to put them on until Christmas Day of each year.” “Buly” Watkins, a fighting man and Doctor Watkins, a brother of Bully’s, were very early settlers at Wild Haw where there was another fine spring of water. Harry Dixon and Brundy Dixon lived on the breaks of Piney Creek. Colonel Tom Black lived on Mill Creek. Doctor Abe Black was a son of the Colonel’s. The first man I ever heard preach in Izard County was Israel Dooey, a hard-shell Baptist preacher who lived In Howell County, Missouri, seven miles west of West Plains. When I heard this man preach he was holding meeting at the residence of Taylor Martine on head of Main Knob Creek. The war in Izard County was very destructive to human lives and property. Many women and children were brought to suffer for untold agonies of hunger. Our family were union sympathizers and my father took part in the war. Among the citizens of Izard County that were cruelly put to death, in those days was Mr. Minor White, a union man. The irregulars who claimed to be on the southern side took this man White from his house and hung him with a rope until he was almost dead, then they let him down and tied him to one of their horses’ tails and dragged him some distance and still he was not quite dead, then they shot several balls into his body and left it lying doubled up in the woods where it lay three days before it was found. The body was buried in a common box. Mr. White lived near Pilot Knob which if I mistake not is not far from Lower Knob Creek. When the big war progressed to such an extent that all the men had to take sides, my mother, Bethy Toney, and we children were ordered to leave Izard County, but not before all of our provision was taken from us and all our property that we had not concealed in the forest. One night we went into woods where the oxen were kept and brought them to the wagon that we had hid away from the house and after yoking up the cattle and hitched them to the wagon we drove to the house and loaded in what household we had left and started on our long rough Journey into Missouri. We found but little to eat and were clothed very scanty but we traveled on until we had crossed the state line into Missouri and after getting four miles into Oregon County and 18 miles of Thomasville we were robbed of our wagon, oxen, and everything else except what few clothes we had on and set adrift. This was in the month of February but the weather happened to be mild or we would have froze to death. My brothers and sisters names were Martha, Jim, Fannie, John, and Derling. The latter was the baby and we carried him. John was three years old and it is an actual fact that this boy walked 16 miles one day. The country was nearly deserted of humanity. The terrible war had driven them away north or south. A woman and her children was found ever now and then who had braved all the risk and remained in their cabins. I recollect we stopped a short time at the Joe Gimlin house where we got a small bit of provision which was just a taste to each of us. We lay out one night on the Ben Alsup farm in Hooten Valley. The place was deserted. We also stopped at the widow Chapin’s who lived in Howell Valley five miles below West Plains where we got a little more to eat or just enough to keep us from starving. We lay our nearly every night. We had no bed clothes and sometimes we had no fire. Finally we arrived on Jack’s Fork where we met one of Our old neighbors and he piloted us to within eight of where a company of federal soldiers were in camp. We were so famished for food that we could hardly travel. On arriving in camp the officers provided us with food which we were very thankful to receive. Our suffering after this was not so serious. My parents both rest in the cemetery at Gassville, Arkansas. My mother died first. My father died in Howell County, Missouri, at the age of 82 years. We taken his body from there in a spring wagon all the way to Gassville and buried it at the side of our mother who was our dearest friend in deed and in need in war times.
WOUNDING AN INOFFENSIVE MAN
By S. C. Turnbo
Among accounts furnished me of the shooting and wounding of men in war times is the following account which was furnished me by Buck Toney, an early settler in Izard County, Arkansas, whose father, Captain L. D. Toney, belonged to the first Arkansas union troops, Colonel Bundy’s regiment. Mr. Toney said that a man of the name of Estes, an Inoffensive man and a southern sympathizer who lived on Lower Knob Creek, a branch of Mill Creek, was shot through the lungs by Jim Macum. Mr. Estes lay many months before he recovered from the wound. Estes was 20 years old and had some relatives in the confederate army, but he never belonged to the army himself.
AGITATING THE WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. Sam Griffin, a veteran of the Civil War on the union side, told me the following at his home near Oneta Post Office, Indian Territory, one day in August, 1906. “John Cook, who lived in Polk County, Missouri, was a slave holder and was in strong sympathy with the south when the war broke out. Cook was an agitator and made a number of speeches in favor of the southern cause. Some of his harangues were fiery and boastful. One day when the war sentiment was being stirred up among the people and most everyone agitating it in some way or other, some in favor of the south and some in favor of the north. I heard this man Cook make a speech to a large crowd and he said in part, ‘If the people of the north and south get involved in war together I can whip any five men that take sides with the north.’ This language was not approved by men of reasonable sense whether they sympathized with the north or south. Mr. Cook had three sons whose names were Jeff, Roth, and Bob. The first named was a southern sympathizer like his father and held to the opinion that any state of the union had a right to withdraw from the government and set up a republic of its own. But his two brothers were bitterly opposed to this, they contended that the people of the United States ought not to divide themselves against each other, that if the southern people had been wronged they should lay their trouble before the administration and ask a hearing and if the rights of the people of the south had been trampled on and abused it would be properly investigated and treated with respect and the wrongs righted and the great war would be avoided. When the clash of arms together began, Mr. Cook and his son Jeff went south and his other two sons Roth and Bob went north. I do not know whether either of them belonged to the army or not, but anyway father and sons all come back home soon after peace was declared.”
THE OXEN SHIED AT A DEAD MAN LYING IN THE ROAD
By S. C. Turnbo
As is well known in war times salt become very scarce in many localities, especially in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. It was so exceedingly scarce in some neighborhoods that it was a serious matter to procure any at all. A large number of people, especially women, were compelled to journey many miles from home to purchase a supply or enough to do them a few weeks or a few months. Mr. Aaron Frederick tells an incident relating to a trip from home on the hunt for a supply of salt which ought to be preserved in history. Mr. Frederick said that after the soldiers had destroyed their crop of corn in Douglas County, Missouri, “we were forced to leave there and we moved into Howell County. At the time I speak of the war was drawing to a close but the killing of men and the destruction of property still went on. Thieves and murderers continued to over run the country as before. This was done by the marauders and irregulars of both sides. Our family was without salt and we were compelled to go hunt for some. There was none to be found in the neighborhood and so we had to go some distance before we could get in reach of any. I and my sister, Sally Frederick, decided to hitch our oxen to the wagon and go off somewhere and make an effort to purchase some. The oxen we taken with us were our favorite cattle. We had brought them all the way from east Tennessee with us. We had saved them from bad hands during the war by keeping them in the woods. Their names were Jack and Ball and we had worked them in the harness like horses all the way from Tennessee. I was only a very smell boy then. We had to go a long distance before we found any salt for sale and my sister, who was grown, bought as much as our means would permit which was very limited. We were gone from home several days. I well recollect one evening after dark while we were on our return back home the oxen suddenly shied at something lying in the road and came near running away. The night was too dark for I and my sister to make out what it was that soared the oxen. The cattle were gentle and docile and we never knew them to act this way before. We supposed that they had scared at a wild beast that was too impudent to give us the right of way in the road. After we had passed the object in the road a hundred yards or more we got the oxen quiet and resumed our journey without making an effort to investigate what the cattle got frightened at. When we had went a quarter of a mile further we come to a house and called to stay all night and the woman told us to come in. We had been there only a few minutes when the woman ask us if we seen that dead man lying in the road. We told her no, but our oxen took fright at something and run along the road a hundred yards before we could, get them to stop. She informed us that It was a dead man and that he had been killed that day and the body was left lying in the road and that no efforts had been made to bury him. The woman said that she was entirely without salt and that her and her little children were almost on starvation. She was very kind in allowing myself and sister to sleep in her house and on the following morning my sister give her a small quantity of our salt and she nearly shed tears of joy at receiving it.”
SHOT THE PIG TO RECOVER HIS KNIFE
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. Aaron Frederick, formerly a resident of Howell County, Missouri, but when I saw him in the summer of 1906 he was living at the head of the beautiful cave at the head of Coweta Creek in the Indian Territory where he related to me an amusing story of war times. Said he, “When our mill on Jacks Fork of Spring River was set on fire and destroyed by a party of soldiers we were compelled to see other quarters or starve to death and we bid adieu to our old desolate home and moved into Douglas County where we lived on Fox Creek. Soon after our arrival there my father rented a farm that belonged to a Mr. Davis near where Jack Alsup lived. We put in a crop of corn and it did well and we were beginning to get over a part of our troubles when along in the summer after our corn was in full roasting ear a large body of cavalry came along one day and stopped and camp on the farm where we lived and remained here several days. They throwed the fence down and turned their horses and mules into the field and kept them there until the entire crop of corn was destroyed and they used the rails to make fires to do their cooking. The destruction of our crops brought us to distress and destitution again though it was sad to have to give up our crop in such a way which gave us more discouragement, but it was our misfortune and we had to make the best of it. There was a little incident in connection with the ruin of our crop that I never will forget until my eyes are closed in death. One of the soldiers had his camp near our residence and cooked and ate his rations at the fire made of rails taken from the fence. This man was rather old and beyond the prime of life. On one occasion a fat shoat which belonged to us went up near the fire where this fellow was preparing rations for dinner on the hunt for something to appease its appetite. The shoat was a pet and consequently was gentle. when the shoat had got up near the fire the soldier quit work at his cooking immediately and picked up a sharp-pointed knife and struck the pig with it in the side and let go the handle and the pig started off running with the knife hanging to it which was what the man intended. After the wounded shoat got off a few yards with the knife still sticking in the wound the soldier snatched up his gun and shot the pig and killed it. It was against instructions from the commanding officer to shoot fire arms in camp and the patrole guard on hearing the report of the gun went to see what was the cause of the shot and on arriving near the scene the officer of the guard soon located the man that done the shooting and he found him very busy cooking his noon fare with the shoat lying dead nearby with the knife stuck in its side. The officer demanded of the man why he shot and the man very cooly says, “Captain, do you see that dead shoat lying there?” “I certainly do and it seems like you are intending to have fresh pork for dinner,” said the officer. “That was not my real intention at the start but I will eat some of it for supper. The reason I killed it was that the derned thing run off with my knife and I was compelled to kill it to recover my knife, ” said the man, which seemed to be a satisfactory explanation to the officer for he thought he had done his duty in saving his knife and passed on and the soldier proceeded to dress the pig and divide the meat with the officer for being so kind and merciful to him.”
AN INCIDENT OF THE CIVIL WAR AT GLASSGOW, MISSOURI
By S. C. Turnbo
In speaking of the war Mr. William A. Andson who was born and reared in Howard County, Missouri, tells the following incident that occurred at Glassgow. “While General Price was making his raid through Missouri in October, 1864, there were six or seven hundred union troops fortified on the east side of town and while they were being attacked by the confederate forces under General John B. Clark the southern troops tore down fencing and paling in the town in their preparations for the assault on the federal works. Just before the attack was made General Clark sent in a flag with a message to the commandant of the fort by the bearer of the flag. “You are old, home boys and I do not want to hurt you.” and requested the officer in command to surrender. He refused at the start but after a little fight the garrison gave up but not before the federals had lost eight or ten men killed and wound, one of which was shot through the temples. The ball passed in at one side and out at the other, but not withstanding this, he finally recovered. On the following Monday after the fight occurred the confederates burned a government boat loaded with supplies of clothing and provisions for the union troops. But before it was set on fire, the citizens and boys of the town and country were told to take what they wanted off of the boat. A number of men and boys went onto the boat and took off all they could carry such as federal uniforms and other things that were easily taken away. Some of the wiser heads remonstrated and begged the people not to carry off anything that belonged to the boat, not touch it even for it would cause serious trouble. My father and we children were at Glassgow while this was going on and my father instructed us not to touch the least thing on the boat and we obeyed him. Soon after the departure of the southern troops, the federal soldiers took possession of the town again and many of them scattered over the country collecting the goods that were carried off the boat by some of the citizens and killed three men who were found in possession of some of the uniforms. One of the citizens who was killed was Arthur Bramam who they met carrying some of the clothes back to Glassgow that he had carried away. They shot this man on the spot where they met him. The confederate soldiers who were at Glassgow were well-behaved.”
A COMPANY OF CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS DRINKING
WATER IN WAR TIMES ON GEORGES CREEK
By S. C. Turnbo
The John Hudson Spring is on Georges Creek six and one-half miles north of Yellville, Arkansas. It is a fine spring of pure cold water and gushes out at the foot of the bluff on the east side of the creek. The water comes out from under a large overhanging rock. A short distance above this spring in the forks of the creek is where “Southfoot” Bill Woods built a saw and grist mill which was burned down during the great Civil War. Mr. Wood after loosing his mill went to Texas and died in Comanche County. At this old millsite is another fine spring of water. Returning to the Hudson Spring just below where the mill stood I saw Captain William C. Mitchells entire company of Infantry which was raised for the confederate service halt here and drink of this pure cold water and rest their tired feet and weary limbs for more than an hour. It was a hot afternoon and every man was thirsty for a cold drink of water and they got it here. The company was on its way to Yellville from Sugar Loaf. As I finish writing the foregoing I wonder how many of those gallant southerners who were present there that afternoon and drank of this pure sparkling water are living now. Only a few of them are left and where are they?
VIEWING A SHAM BATTLE BETWEEN A LOT OF BOYS IN WAR DAYS
By S. C. Turnbo
It is something interesting to think how the war spirit took possession of the little boys in some localities as well as the older people when the Civil War broke out. This was prevalent on several occasions in northern Arkansas. I re-member one beautiful Sunday in the month of February, 1862, that I and Tom Anderson, a merchant of Forsyth, Missouri, were together going from Yellville, Marion County. The main road from Forsyth to Yellville lead down Georges Creek then and we were following this road and just before arriving at the “Southfoot” Bill Woods mill on Georges Creek where the John B. Hudson residence is now which is six and one-half miles north of Yellville we saw a large crowd of big and little boys engaged in a sham fight. The war spirit run high among part of the adult population of Marion County and it seemed that the same spirit had affected the young as well as old. The youngsters were divided into two companies one of which represented the south and the other the north. Both sides were lined up in battle array. We both stopped and sat on our horses and viewed their actions and methods of war. They soon got themselves ready for battle and they went at it as if they were in earnest. Both sides had a commander and when the sham fight opened up it looked like a real fight indeed. One line would charge the other and a mixed-up fight and a hand-to-hand encounter would ensue. Then one side or the other would retreat in disorder a short distance and half and reform and renew the attack. Both sides captured prisoners and paroled them on the spot. It was a long and fierce encounter to be a sham battle but all the boys seemed to be in a splendid humor and laughed and cheered as the fight went on. Finally I and Anderson observed that the boys who represented the south were getting the worst of it and it was not long after this when the exultant boys who represented the stars and stripes captured all the southern side and paroled them and the battle was closed. The outcome of this sham encounter between these juveniles appeared to be a bad omen to our brave southern army. After all the boys had become quiet and had drank water and were seated to rest their weary limbs, Tom Anderson remarked, “If we of the South get threshed that bad we had better make up with the North and quit now.”
WAS HUNG FORTHWITH
By S. C. Turnbo
This account was narrated to me by Mr. Dave Garoutte at Tulsah, Indian Territory, on the 30th of August, 1906. Mr. Garoutte served in the federal army during the troubled days of the sixties. Here is his story. “My father was a staunch democrat but he was opposed to slavery. Though while he admitted that the white people were much superior in intelligence to the negro race yet he said that it was wrong to enslave any race of people and hold them as property. My father was also a union man and contended that the stars and stripes was the flag for us to live under. When I was 23 years old, I enlisted in the United States Army. This was in 1861 soon after the war broke out. I belonged to Company F, 24 Missouri, S. H. Boyd regiment and S. P. Barris as my captain. Now to the story I set out to tell you, ” said Mr. Garoutte. “It was in the month of October, 1864. The confederate General Sterling Price was on his way through Missouri with a heavy force of cavalry. As he and his army was advancing it was supposed that he might march to St. Louis and attempt to capture the city and the command I belonged was on waiting orders at De Soto in Jefferson County. Early one morning a stranger made his appearance in our camp claiming to be a deserter from the confederate army. His pants and shirt were ragged and dirty and he was without a coat. He was a suspicious looking character and we looked on him as a spy. We suspected him so strong that the commander ordered him arrested under the charge that he had entered our lines in disguise for the sole purpose of finding out the condition of our troops. The weather was cool and the prisoner stood in need of a coat. As soon as he was arrested he was placed in the guard house to await an investigation of his case which could not be done until the following day. At night the sergeant of the guard who was a generous hearted man offered to loan the prisoner his overcoat for the night to which the prisoner said he was glad to accept. A special guard was placed over him which was relieved every two hours and replaced by another man. During the night it developed that the man was a real spy and that his name was Cole and if I mistake not he lived in Iron County, Missouri. The guard was notified of this and was instructed to not let the man escape and that he would be tried for his life on the following morning. Soon after daybreak when the sergeant of the guard approached close to the guard house the prisoner who was not fettered took off the overcoat and said, “Here, Sergeant, is your coat for which I thank you very much for the use of it last night.” And the sergeant took the coat and remarked, “Prisoner, you was welcome to it for it made you feel more comfortable last night.” As he spoke these words he stepped back a few paces to put the coat on. The guard was standing in a few yards of where the prisoner was. Just as the unsuspecting non-commissioned officer had got the overcoat partly on and while both hands were engaged, the prisoner darted at the sergeant with an open knife in his hand. The knife had a long keen point and edge and the prisoner had jerked it from its concealment on his person. As the prisoner reached the sergeant he cut his throat from ear to ear. It was done so quick that the guard nor spectators were dumbfounded and no one had time to interfere to save the sergeants life and his victim fell to the ground in the agony of death. When the dying man struck the ground the guard rushed at the prisoner without firing at him and the latter struck him with the knife and he fell dead. As the guard sank down from the effects of the fatal knife one of the other guards made an attempt to shoot him. But the prisoner was quicker with the use of the knife than the soldier was with the gun and the former darted at him and plunged the blade of the knife into his body which inflicted a dangerous wound. In the meantime a great stir and excitement was aroused among the officers and privates. The spy seeing that his only way to escape was by flight and with the blood stained knife in his hand he made a dash for liberty. The soldiers were ordered to capture him alive if possible and a large body of troops mounted their horses and pursued the fleeing man who ran one-half a mile from the guard house be-fore the soldiers were enabled to surround and capture him. But he made a desperate resistance before he was made to give up his knife and brought back to the guard house where two of his victims lay dead and another one desperately wounded. Though a number of the men admired his bravery and could not blame him for trying to escape, but their ire was roused for the killing of their two comrades and the wounding of another and they declared he should suffer at once and not wait for a court martial to be convened. And so he was ordered to be hung forthwith. A stout rope was ordered to be brought for-ward and the doomed man was conducted to a walnut tree which stood near Governor Fletcher’s yard gate in the town of De Soto where one end of the rope was made into a noose and put around his neck and the other end was thrown over a limb of this walnut and with hands pinioned together behind his back the man was pulled up from the ground and hung until he was dead. He died brave. He never flinched or ask for mercy. At the time of the execution I was attached to the 14th Iowa,” said Mr. Garoutte as he ended this interesting story of the war.
LAST HOURS OF JOHN FRITTS
By S. C. Turnbo
The western part of Madison County, Arkansas, like all other sections of northwest Arkansas was bathed in blood during Civil War days. The suffering of the people on both sides—federal and southern—was almost unbearable. Old men were taken from their dwellings and put to death in a cruel way and their bodies weltered in the blood and were left to be either picked up by the women and children and given as decent burial as the surrounding circumstances would admit or left for the wild beast or fowls of the air to devour. I earnestly hope the horrors and brutalities in those awful days of carnage and butchery will never be repeated again. War Is fearful. It crushes men to death, starves women and children, demoralizes the human race, and makes incarnate fiends out of men. The American people were taught a great lesson in our late war. The lesson is so important that they will never forget it and we trust that all the people in the United States will live in peace and harmony as long as our government exist as a nation. May peace and good will prevail among all nations as long as time lasts and every human being on the face of the earth ought to pray and work to that end. This is enough for the present and we will go on with our story.
John Fritts was an early settler on Richland Creek in Madison County, Arkansas. His wife was named Jane and their home was one and a half miles above the village of Wesley. The names of their children were Henry, Preston, Alexander, Wright, George, William, Peter, Frank, Charley, Elizabeth, and Mary. John Fritts was a brother of George Fritts who lived on the north bank of White River in Marion County. He was a great lover of sugar and has been known to consume one or two pounds at a time without any injurious effects. In the year 1857 he paid his brother George Fritts a visit and the two brothers enjoyed themselves hunting and fishing together along White River in Keesee township. One day they went up to the village of Dubuque and spent the day among the settlers who had congregated there. Some of the men got into a discussion as to who could eat the most sugar and John Fritts remarked that he could consume three pounds at one sitting which some of the men disputed. They contended that it was impossible for one man to eat that amount of sugar at one time and live over it. Fritts declared that he could eat that amount and never grunt from the effects of it. “Well, If said one of the men, “if you will promise to eat three pounds of sugar without stopping we will pay for it.” “All right, ” said Mr. Fritts, “weigh the sugar and put it on paper on the counter.” And they did so and Fritts commenced the work of putting the three pounds of sugar down his throat out of sight. The pile of sugar gradually grew less in size until it all disappeared which astonished everyone present except the one who ate it. But their astonishment was much greater when they found by waiting that Fritts’ glutinous appetite for sugar was followed by no bad results. John Fritts was a well-to-do man and had many friends. When the war broke out he sympathized with the union and was killed during the war. The account of his death was furnished me by Mrs. Mary Ann Fritts, a daughter-in-law of his. She said that in the early part of the night of July 27, 1864, a party of men dashed up to the yard fence and dismounted and some of the men ordered Mr. Fritts to come out into the yard. A sister of Fritts’ wife named Elizabeth was there that night and a man of the name of John Guin was also there. Fritts and Guin were upstairs asleep and the women were downstairs. There were none of the children at home except the little ones. Not getting any answer, part of the men entered the house and made a search and found the two men in bed asleep and awoke them in a rough manner and ordered them both downstairs. They were reluctant about going but understanding that they would be shot in the house if they did not go and they yielded to the demands of the murderers and was conducted downstairs. Mr. Fritts’ wife and her sister pleaded in vain for the heartless men not kill them. After getting outside of the yard they took the two men into the woods a short distance from the house and shot them. The wife bent in sorrow and grief heard the report of the guns and the woman and her sister leaving the little children at the house hurried through the darkness in the direction they heard the report of the guns and found them alone. The wicked men had done their horrible work and left. Mr. Guin was dead and Fritts was unconscious and dying but lived two hours after the arrival of his wife and sister-in-law. A heavy thunder storm was approaching and the rain soon began to pour down. Bright flashes of lightning lit up the darkness at short intervals followed by loud peals of thunder In quick succession. It was a night of horror and dread. The troubled wife and her sister sheltered the dying man from the rain storm the best they could which was but little. The earth was drenched with rain and the ground was covered with water. Fritts was almost gone. He knew nothing of the rain drops that fell on him nor the little rivulets that run about him and flowed under him nor could he see the lightning flash nor hear the crashing thunder nor the roar of the wind. Neither did he know that his kind and devoted wife was present and with an almost broken heart and moans for her dying husband was crying and listening at his departing breath and feeling the flickering heartbeats as he was passing into the other life that we all have to enter sooner or later. When he gave up his life and was no more the faithful wife and her sister remained with the two bodies and kept watch over them in the darkness and rain until daybreak when assistance was procured and the two dead men were carried to the house. Fritts’ two sons Charley and Henry and John Guin son of the murdered man prepared the bodies for burial. There was no chance to procure coffins but they made two rough boxes in which the bodies were enclosed. Two graves were dug on the John Fritts farm and the two boxes containing the bodies were carried to the new made graves and lowered into the vault and the dirt filled in and thus two more victims of the cruel war were gone from this world where there is no wars.
A COWARDLY MURDER
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. William F. Robinson, a veteran of the Civil War on the union side, told the writer the following account of a dastardly murder in Civil War times. Mr. Robinson said that a coward always did a cowardly act by killing men when they had all the advantage on their side. A brave soldier killed men in accordance with the rules of war. I am going to tell you a story of a murder which was committed in our army and in the presence of a large number of men, I myself being a witness to it. One day while a body of us were escorting a wagon train loaded with supplies for the troops and while passing over the old wire road between Mudtown and Fayetteville, Arkansas, and ten miles northeast of the last named place we met a man that was walking and leading a horse by the bridle reins. When the man met the advance guard and the front wagon he left the road and walked along near the side of it until he met the hindmost wagon and rear guard. We were cavalry and I belonged to the rear guard and just after we had passed by him I saw him get back into the road to go on his way. Just as he did so one of our men who was a rough character and was more like a Coasack than an American soldier aimed his gun at the man and shot him down without the least provocation. It was simply a cold-blooded murder. The troops were halted at once and the commanding officer ordered the murderer arrested immediately which was promptly done and placed under guard. It turned out in a few minutes that an officer of the escort had urged and persuaded the man to shoot the civilian and this officer was also arrested. In the meantime a great commotion among the soldiers took place for they did not approve of the killing. It was a hot time then for we expected every moment to be attacked by the enemy and while skirmishers and videttes were on the alert watching for the approach of the southern men our commander Captain Charley Moss, order a hasty investigation made of the dead body of the man for the purpose of identification and three or four officers were detailed to make the examination and report as quick as possible. The man was dressed in citizen’s clothes. It developed that he carried a lot of papers on his person which lead to his identification. It also turned out that he was a union man and was on his way out of Arkansas into Missouri. He had a roll of promissory notes and a sum of money. I cannot call to mind the name of the man nor what part of Arkansas he hailed from. As we expected an attack from the southern forces we could not remain any longer than really necessary and the examination was hurried through with and when it was completed Captain Moss called for three volunteers to bury the dead man as decent as the circumstances would admit and I and my brother Zeke Robinson and an other man offered our, services and the Captain directed us to pick up the body and. put it in a wagon and haul it to the first house where we could borrow some tools to dig a grave with and bury it. We found that it was only a half a mile to the next house where the lady of the house loaned us a hoe and shovel and the teamster whose wagon the body was in drove the wagon to the edge of the forest where we took the dead man out of the wagon into the woods and laid him down on the ground out of sight of the road and after selecting a spot of ground for the resting place for the remains we went to work and dug a shallow grave and placed the body in it without a coffin and dressed in the same clothes he was killed in. Then we filled in the dirt and made a little mound and made it smooth. Just as we finished we supposed that an enemy was near us and we dropped the tools at the grave and mounting our horses we sped away from there at a rapid gait. As we galloped by the house we hallooed to the lady and informed her where we had left her hoe and shovel. We never stopped or slowed up our horses until we caught up with the command. The alarm was a false one for we were not attacked. I learned after we reached headquarters that the soldier who committed the murder and the officer who instigated It were court martialed but I never did find out whether they were punished or not for in a short time thereafter I was transferred to another command,” Mr. Robinson related this account to me at his residence near Aneta, Indian Territory, one day in June, 1906.
A SICKENING SCENE OF THE WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
One among the atrocious murders committed during the war between the states if it be entirely true was the killing of John Bevins on Fox Creek in Douglas County, Missouri, one day in the latter part of October, 1864. Mr. Peter Keesee, son of Paton Keesee, is my informant and he said that it was true. When the confederates were retreating out of Missouri from the Price raid a small command of confederates with several wagons encountered Bevins who was or had been a federal soldier and they shot him down in the road in front of the wagons and made no effort to remove the body off of the road. Part of the dead body lay on the wagon track on one side of the road and the two wheels of each wagon on that side passed over his body and mashed it almost into a pulp. Such is war and its horrors.
A STAMPEDE IN A BLACKJACK THICKET
By S. C. Turnbo
An account of a wartime incident as told me by Mr. James Thomas who was born and reared in Green County, Missouri, gives some idea of the terrible encounters of those stormy days. Mr. Thomas in relating the event said that while he lived four miles northeast of Springfield, Missouri, “The United States forces kept a stage stand in one mile of our house and a detachment of soldiers was kept constantly on hand to guard the stage line and stand. The stage coaches were used in carrying the mails, dispatches and other matter that was indispensable and consequently it was necessary to be well protected by federal cavalry. On the early morning of June lst, 1863, I noticed 14 mounted men ride across the road beyond the corner of our field. They appeared, to be traveling in a very cautious manner. I knew from their appearance that they were not federal, Their uniforms and equipments were different from the northern men and I pronounced them to be southern men. Our family that were living were union in sentiment and as we lived within the federal lines I deemed it prudent as well as my duty to report my discovery to the authorities though I was not quite ten years old. As soon as the party passed from my view I went in haste to a party of federal soldiers and told them what I had seen and some of them reported it immediately to their commanding officer and without the loss of a minute he ordered a number of mounted soldiers to make an investigation. As I was the informant they told me to go along with them and show them the way and where I saw the party cross the road and I complied with their orders for I knew better than to refuse. When we reached that part of the road where I had observed the cavalcade of men cross it the federal soldiers took up their trail and followed it to the edge of a blackjack thicket where the officer in charge of the soldiers halted his men and sent forward a few men on foot to reconnoitre the location of the enemy for it was presumed that they were concealed in the thicket until such time as they saw fit to come out to make an attack on the stage stand for the purpose of robbery. The detail of soldiers were instructed to be cautious and make as little noise as possible and locate the party and the men went on and gradually made their way through the thick grove of blackjacks and discovered them in a place where they were well shadowed by the thick clusters of blackjacks. They had all dismounted and were lounging around in the shade of the trees. some were lying down, others sitting up. Guns and equipments were lying scattered around in the grass. Their horses were turned loose to graze and were scattered here and there. They were certainly very careless and this neglection was their doom. They were so derelict that the reconnoitering party approached them near enough to make a minute detail of their carelessness without being discovered and after they had made all the investigation necessary they crept back to the main force and made their report which surprised the officer and men for they were convinced now that their carelessness indicated that they were not regular confederate soldiers but a band of guerrillas and robbers and were waiting until night to make a dash for spoils. The commander ordered all the men to dismount and leaving two or three men to take charge of the horses he lead his force into the thicket and after working their way through carefully and silently they came up near where the enemy were still displaying their ignorance and carelessness. The federals were ordered to fire a volley at the men and charge them which they did killing five men and wounding others. The survivors that were able fled in dismay nearly all of them leaving their horses, guns and equipments. It was a stampede of those that were left that were able to retreat and made their escape. The victors collected the horses together and the guns and saddles that were of value were gathered up and the wounded cared for. The federal soldiers did not tarry any longer than necessary for fear that other forces of the enemy might be nearby and attack them and lose what they had gained and taking the wounded with them they returned back to camps and a detail of men was sent back with tools to bury the dead and on arriving on the scene they dug a short and shallow trench and they carried the dead men and placed them down In it then they out off a lot of small blackjack brush and leaves and layed them on the dead forms and covered them over with dirt. One of the detail who helped to bury the dead was a tall fellow named George Smith and was a very wicket man and after they had buried the bodies and were preparing to leave this man Smith pointed his finger at the filled up trench where the dead men lay cursed them and says., “Lay there and take a nap till the woods burns and we will burn you with it.” Among the wounded was a small lad of a boy who said that the party were guerrillas and they had him along with them for a waiter. This boy after recovering from his wounds enlisted in the federal army.”
PROTECTING THE LIVES OF TWO PAROLED SOLDIERS
By S. C. Turnbo
There were some desperate fellows in the Civil War.
These ruffians killed indiscriminately unarmed men of the opposite side whenever they had the chance. These characters belonged to both armies and it was a shame to the honor of the regular armies of both north and south that these barbarians were tolerated in their wicked work. In some cases the commanders were not to blame for they could not help it and the cruel offender went unpunished. Mr. William Robinson, a member of the First Arkansas Cavalry on the union side gave the writer this account. “I remember shortly after the battle of Prairie Grove that the company I belonged to and another company of the regiment were sent from Fayetteville to Spring-field, Missouri, for supplies or in other words a train of wagons was sent and we were ordered to go along with it as an escort to guard the wagons to prevent them falling Into the hands of the confederates. I was well acquainted with a number of men who had enlisted In the southern army who had formerly lived in Pulaski County, Missouri, where I was born and partly raised. These men were my friends. Though we were divided in sentiments. They went south and I went north as the saying was then, yet I loved these men for they were good neighbors and the war did not spoil our friendship. True I thought they did wrong in defending some principles that the southern people held to, but I suppose they thought I did wrong in enlisting for the defense of the stars and stripes. I have never regretted in taking sides with the union and I do not suppose that a true confederate soldier was ever sorry that he contended for the sunny south. I am sorry to say that there were a few rough men in our regiment that had no mercy on confederate prisoners if they had an opportunity to display their cowardice without being exposed. A few days after the Battle of Prairie Grove a number of the confederate soldiers who lived in Missouri that were captured by our men in the fight at Prairie Grove were paroled to return to their respective homes. The federal authorities deemed it prudent to do this for they thought that after these men had returned home they would reconsider what they had done in taking up arms against the union and join the federal army and make as good soldiers on the government side as they had been for the southern confederacy and so they were paroled and sent on their way home to obey the laws in force where they lived. On our return back from Springfield with the wagon train of supplies we met several of these paroled soldiers on their way home and I also noticed that when we met these men and they had passed on some few of our most desperate and wicked men of our command would drop back and after they were gone we could hear the distant report of guns and it was not long before it leaked out that these men were murdering paroled confederates and that a few officers encouraged the dirty and brutal work of shooting these unarmed and defenseless men, Some of the men including some of the officers protested against this babarity but It done but little good. Finally we met two paroled men who were my neighbors in Pulaski County their names of which were Buck Elmore and Milton Brown. I recognized them but I did not get to speak to them and if they recognized me they did not let it be known. My brother Ezekiel Robinson was a member of the same company I was and we were riding side by side when the two southern men passed us. As soon as they had gone on by us I told my brother who they were for he failed to recognize them. I told him that we must not let them wicket men kill them and he agreed to help me interfere in their behalf. In a few minutes more we saw these same murderers drop back and we knew their purpose at once. I and my brother waited long enough until they rode just beyond our view and we followed them and urging our horses into a fast gallop as we overtaken them just as they had caught up with the two southern men who were traveling the main road and not making any efforts to shun us by turning to one side and following bypaths. The two southern boys were surprised at seeing four cavalry men dash up behind them and followed by two others and were horrified to find that the first four men were preparing to shoot them down, but we interfered and informed them if they shot them boys they would suffer for it and more than that if they killed them they would have to kill us too if they got in their shots first, they cursed terrible oaths for our interference but we told them that they could do their worst if they got in their work first. We told them we intended to protect them that they were on parole and none but cowards would take advantage of them. At this they called us traitors and all other mean epithets were hurled at us that they could think of,, finding that they dare not hurt the two men in our presence they reined their horses around and rode back toward the command. It was now that the two Southerners recognized I and my brother and thanked us very courteously for our timely interference in saving their lives. We had no time for further talk for we were compelled to leave them and galloped back and soon overtook the four men that wanted to kill them. They were sulky but we kept an eye on them for we were afraid they might go back and kill the two men yet but they did not. Some years after the great struggle had ended and what was left of us had settled down to citizenship again I met these same two men once more and after a cordial greeting of each other they informed me that they quit the main road after we left them and went through the woods and prairies and followed trails all the way to their homes in Pulaski County.”
THE SKIRMISH AT FORSYTH IN WAR TIMES
By S. C. Turnbo
In regard to the fight at Forsyth, Missouri, between the federal forces and a small command of confederate troops there has been but little said and less known about it except those who took part in it. It was not a big fight but it was hot enough to be remembered by those interested enough to talk of past events. One day in the month of October, 1905, while circuit court was in session at Forsyth I had an interview with Ben Price who knew something of the small battle there which occurred in the month of May, 1862. Mr. Price said that the attack was made by General Sweeny who was In command of 1,000 men and a few pieces of cannon. Sweeny and his men came down Swan Creek. Major Gunning and Franklin were at Forsyth with 75 confederate soldiers when General Sweeny and his command arrived. But just before the head of the column reached the town General Sweeny ordered the artilery to turn to the right from the main road and stop and unlimber in an old field a short distance from town where fire was opened up on the town and court house in particular and two cannon balls passed through the brick walls of the building. In the meantime the southern forces under Major Gunning and Franklin seeing that they were greatly out numbered by the federal forces retreated across the river and took a stand behind a fence on the Hack Snapp farm and shots were exchanged between them and a few federals who had come on into town. The balls were ineffective and the southern forces withdrew and fell back from the river. But while Major Gunning and Franklin and their men were crossing the river John H. Price who was in command of 15 mounted men took an active part by taking his men to the top of the bluff on the east side of Swan Creek just above the town and fired on a small command of federal cavalry who were crossing the creek at the ford but did not kill or wound any of the men as far as known. Price knowing that he and his men would soon be hard pressed and would probably be surrounded and all of them be either killed or captured vacated the summit of the bluff in a hurry and went across the river where he and his men joined the other southern forces.
THE BURNING OF FORSYTH, MISSOURI
By S. C. Turnbo
In recounting the many incidents of the Civil War as it occurred in the south central part of Missouri I was given a brief account of the destruction of Forsyth in Taney County by Peter Keesee who said that he saw the town set afire but did not see it burn down, “It was burned while the place was being evacuated by the federal soldiers. The commander of the main force on leaving the town left a detail of men behind to destroy the town by fire and they set every house on fire except the court house which was built of brick. Every house burned down that was set afire except a small house that belonged to Jim Berry. After the men touched this dwelling with fire it died out and the house was saved from destruction. After the detail of men did as they were told to do they left the burning village and followed on after the main body of troops.”
THE EXECUTION OF LEMARS AND WILLIAM MARSH
By S. C. Turnbo
I do not know anything concerning the death of these two men except through hearsay and I have never known whether I got the details of it correct or not. But it appears that Ben Bray and his company were one day on Pond Fork of Little North Fork and were at what is known now as the Wallace Place where Lemars and Bill Marsh came to them and reported to Captain Bray that they wanted to join his company but the Captain refused to accept them. It is said that he had good reason to believe they were spies and would betray his company sooner or later to the enemy and according to testimony they were sentenced to death by shooting and were executed, in the yard and I am told that after their death the bodies were dragged into the house and a message was dispatched to their friends and relatives where they could be found and Bray and his men took their departure. Their friends come and received them and I am informed that they were buried in the Ed Welch graveyard. These men were shot a short distance above the pond of water. Bray and his men were Southerners.
THE OLD WINTER QUARTERS OF COLONEL MITCHELL’S REGIMENT
OF CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS OF THE WINTER OF 1861-2
By S. C. Turnbo
The author remembers being at the camp ground of the 14th Arkansas Regiment of Infantry C. S. A. when it was in winter quarters in Madison Coty, Arkansas, in the winter of 1861-2. My father J. C. Turnbo was an officer in Captain Lewis Hudson’s company of that regiment and I visited my father in the early part of December, 1861, when they made their permanent camp there. It has been so long that my recollections of the locality of the camp has faded. But Mr. E. B. (Ben) Hager who was a resident in Madison County when Colonel Wm. C. Mitchell the commander of this regiment was camped there. He says that the regimental winter quarters was in a hollow that flows into War Eagle River and 3 ½ miles from Huntsville. The ground occupied by the men was once known as the old camp ground where a number of big revival meeting had been carried on long before wartimes. A fine spring of water which was nearby furnished plenty of water for the soldiers as well as the meeting folks. Colonel Mitchell used the old harbor for the storage of commissaries by having it stockaded or making sides to it with logs, poles, and lumber. The land on which the regiment camped on belonged to Neal Does and was on the main road leading from Huntsville to Ozark on the Arkansas River and was one-half mile from the War Eagle River where the ford was known as the first crossing. This ford was four miles from Huntsville.
THE SOLITARY HORSEMAN
By S. C. Turnbo
There were many small incidents that occurred during our Civil War that was worthy of mention that will never have a place in history because they were never written., On the 6th day of October, 1905, or 40 years after the close of the war, Captain J. H. Sallee, commander of Co. B 16th Regiment of Cavalry on the union side, informed me that one day during the hottest of the war that he and his company while marching along a dim road at the lower part of the old Flemmon Clark farm just below the mouth of Big Creek in Marion County, Arkansas, we discovered a lone horseman on the summit of the bluff on the opposite side of White River from us. I had 35 men with me and we knew that he was an enemy and a daring one but we had no way to get at him for the river was swollen from the recent rains and was several feet past fording and it was near 600 yards to where he was sitting on his horse near where the old trailway lead from the Asa Yocum farm to the mouth of Sugar Camp hollow. The fellow had shot at us and hearing the report of his gun was the cause that lead to his discovery, but he was too far away to do us injury. I knew that there was not a gun in my command that would shoot a ball to him but I spoke to my bugle man who carried a revolving rifle to take a shot at him and it would more than likely make him “fall back” even if it did not touch him. I halted the men while the bugle man took aim with his gun and fired twice at him. He began to retreat at the first shot and disappeared over the bluff at the second shot. I always conjectured that he was a brave man and had some news to tell his friends when he got to them.” said the old veteran soldier.
A BLOODY ENCOUNTER BETWEEN A CONFEDERATE OFFICER
AND A FEDERAL SOLDIER ON JIMMIE’S CREEK
By S. C. Turnbo
Among the rough steep hills and deep hollows of Sister Creek on the south side of White River in Marion County, Arkansas, lives Joe Pace, son of Carl Pace and Mary M. Pace. Joe was born on Jimmie’s Creek October 17, 1853. Mr. Carl Pace settled a claim on Jimmie’s Creek one mile above the mouth of Wild Cat Creek where Joe Pace was born. Joe’s parents have both passed over the great beyond and their bodies rest in the same grave yard near the Wild Cat school house on Jimmie’s Creek. Joe Pace is the proprietor of Pace’s Ferry on White River just above the mouth of Sister Creek and 4 miles below the little town of Oakland. Mr. Joe Pace relates the following war story which he says is strictly true. “My father, Carl Pace, was a captain of a company in the 14-th (confederate) Arkansas Infantry. My mother was a sister of Tomps McCracken and a daughter of Joe McCracken. In the month of August, 1863, Jimmie’s Creek was invaded for the first time by a Small command of federal troops of mounted men. My father was at home then on a leave of absence. Jim Skinner was then living on the Van Lants place on the south bank of the river Just above the mouth of Sister Creek. This man had observed the federals passing down the river on the north side where the old George Pearson farm is Mr. Skinner set about at once to give warning of the approach of the federals to the few settlers who lived on Jimmie’s Creek and the other settlements toward Yellville for the river was at a low stage and easily forded. So mounting a horse he galloped down to the mouth of Sister Creek before the federals reached the ford there and up that stream a short distance then over the dividing ridge to Jimmie’s Creek then up that water course to where my father lived above the mouth of Wild Cat. When Mr. Skinner arrived at our house the strength of his horse was entirely exhausted and his body was covered with sweat and foam. As the man approached the house he hallooed to father. “Captain Pace, the feds are coming and I have come to warn you of their approach. My horse is give out and I cannot ride him any further.” Mr. Skinner now abandoned the horse and ran into the bresh to hide from the enemy and father hastily caught a bay mule he called Jack and mounted him and urged him into a gallop to notify his neighbors of the coming of the enemy. It seems that the federals had seen Mr. Skinner galloping down the river on the south side and believing that he was intending to give the settlers warning of their approach they pushed on across the river and followed the fresh trail of Skinner’s horse as rapidly as their horses could travel and about the time my father got out of our eight we seen a federal galloping up the road toward the house with a pistol in his hand. The man galloped on by the house without halting or asking a question and followed the same road that my father had just gone over. When my father had galloped the mule near a half a mile up the creek or just below where Kingdom Spring is now he heard horses feet coming up behind him and he stopped and turned the mule across the road to wait to see if it was a friend getting out of the way of the enemy. In a few moments the horseman come in view and it proved to be an armed federal and who was only a few yards from him. My father had his pistol buckled around him but he made no attempt to draw the weapon from the scabbard but waited until the federal soldier had galloped up to him with pistol in hand. The federal made no effort to use the pistol nor did ask father to surrender neither did he ask him if he was armed. But when the federal reached him he stopped and says, “You have gone far enough in this direction” “Well, ” says my father, “which way do you want me to go.” “Let us go back the other way.” replied the man in blue, “Very well, turn your horse In the way you desire to go,” said father and the federal who was still holding the pistol in his hand reined his horse around and started back down the creek. My father never moved until the federal got a few yards off when he jerked his pistol from the scabbard and shot the federal and wounded him causing the man in blue to jerk both his feet out of the stirrups and without turning in his saddle he placed the Pistol under his arm with the muzzle pointing toward my father and fired a shot at random and immediately urged his horse into a gallop down the creek, Father shot at the federal twice more before he got beyond his view. The ball from the pistol in the hands of the federal struck father in the thigh. The wounded federal galloped back to our house where he met his command which had just arrived and he says to them., “Boys, I am shot.” The other federals ask him “Did you hit him.” “I don’t know,” said he, “but go on and if you can find him give him hell. And they all started up the road the way the wounded man had come. My father knew that the federals would make an effort to hunt him down and decided that it would be best to dismount and leave the mule and seek a place of safety among the crags and cliffs along the creek. But after he got off of the mule he discovered that the ball shot at him by the federal had broke his thigh and he could neither walk or remount the mule again. He was suffering intense pain and the wound was bleeding freely. He was in a helpless condition and powerless to get out of the way on foot. But he must make an effort to leave the road and leaving the mule standing in the road he crawled 40 yards to a shelving rock which lay close down to the ground where there was just barely room for him to crawl under it. He had just got under the rock and was suffering an agony of pain when he heard the clattering of a number of horses feet over the stony ground coming up the road. It proved to be a body of federal cavalry and they soon reached the mule which by this time had got out of the road and was grazing. One of the troopers dismounted and tried to catch the mule but his muleship refused to be friendly and started off on father’s trail where he had pulled himself along to the cliff and as he went along he would put his nose down to the ground and smell where father had crawled along. “The commander of the troopers says, “Oh., dam the mule. Shoot it down and let us push on.” And the man who was trying to catch the mule answered, “Go ahead, I’ll catch the mule and overtake you.” And while the man was following on behind the mule trying to coax it to stop the mule walked up in 6 feet of the ledge of rock that father was under and knowing that if the federal saw him he would shoot him instantly my father made ready to defend himself the best he could. Two barrels of his revolver were loaded and he cocked the pistol and aimed it at the man with the intention of shooting him if the man discovered him. Though suffering terrible pain from his broken thigh yet he held the pistol on the federal who was so busy in trying to catch the mule that he never discovered father nor heard the click of the pistol. Directly the man succeeded in catching the mule and lead him back to the road and remounting his horse he rode on in the direction his friends had went leading the mule at the side of his horse. This was at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. My mother not knowing that father was hurt and supposing he had escaped, she concluded it was best to get off of the public road where we lived and she took us children which was 7 in number and went to a relative of ours of the name of Bill King who lived off from the public highways one mile and a half from our house.
On the following day at 10 a.m. I took one of our horses out into the woods and hobbled him to prevent the federals from capturing him. Just as I had finished tieing the rope around his legs and had rose to my feet I heard my father call me and I answered and ran to him. When I reached the spot where he lay wounded and very weak I was horrified to find him in such a terrible condition. The first words he said to me after I had got to him was “Joe, is the feds gone yet.” and I replied “Yes, father, they are all gone as far as I know.” My father had crawled one mile and a half from where he was shot and was almost perished for the want of water. He said that he had not tasted a bit of water since he was wounded. He says “Joe, run to Bill’s house and get me some water. I am nearly starved for a drink.” It was near 300 yards to Bill King’s house and I ran with all might to tell my mother and Mr. King and his wife about father’s helpless condition. I took some water in a vessel and got back to father first. He wanted to drink all the water In the vessel but I told him that he was so nigh starved to death for water that he must only drink a small quantity of water at a time and it would not hurt him but if he drank it all at once it would kill him and I would not let him drink only a little at a time until his great thirst was partly quenched. By this time my mother and the other children and Mr. King and his family got there and we went for other help immediately and made a litter of small poles tacked together and spread a quilt on it for a bed and we lifted him up and put him on it and carried him 3 miles to a cliff of rock in a wild and lonely looking place in a N.W. direction from home where the Star mine is now on Wild Cat Creek and placed the suffering man in as comfortable position as circumstances would admit and my mother sent a runner to Yellville for two doctors—Jobe and Hansford—and they both come and dressed his wounds and we all cared for him and gave him our beat attention until he was able to be moved to safer and more comfortable quarters. I and my mother was with him nearly all the time. It was two months before he was able to travel. The wounded federal was taken to my grandfather’s Joe McCraken who lived on Jimmie’s Creek below our house. On the night following the day the wounded federal was carried there a number of men collected at the cliff where we had carried my father on Wild Cat Creek and wanted to go mob the wounded man in blue. Some said hang him, others wanted to shoot him, a few said let us stab him to death with knives. It seemed that the ill fated soldier was doomed to die a cruel death, but my dear old father suffering the agonizing pains of the dying pleaded for the life of the federal and finally prevailed on the mob to let the wounded soldier live and treat him well—that he was wounded and in a helpless condition and it was their duty to care for him in a merciful way and when he was able to go to send him back to his friends and they all consented to do so and they treated him kindly and when he was able to travel they sent him home. His name was Josephus Liverpoole. Soon after the close of the war he wrote a letter to my father and father answered him and they carried on a friendly correspondence until Mr. Liverpoole died, then his father wrote to us several times afterward. They both died good friends to each other.
PICKED UP ON THE SCENE WHERE A SMALL FORCE OF FEDERALS
STAMPEDED A SMALL BUNCH OF SOUTHERN MEN IN WAR TIMES
By S. C. Turnbo
In the month of July, 1905, a holster rifle pistol was picked up by Sam Pelham 150 yards west of across the hollow the scene where Asa Yocum was killed during the angry days of war. This pistol is supposed to have been dropped by one of the southern men in the confusion while trying to escape from the federals. Mr. Yocum was killed in the month of June, 1863. If it did belong to one of the men as mentioned which we are inclined to believe that it did it had lay there 42 years before it was discovered. The pistol was shown me by Almus Clark and a partial description of the weapon was noted down as Mr. Clark described it, which is as follows: Patent breech with two mountings, one of brass the other of silver. The silver mount is in 1/8 inch of patent breech the brass mounting is 1/32 Part of an inch toward the muzzle from the silver mount. The hind sight on butt piece attached to patent breech, same as rifle sight. Length of barrel from breech pin is 6 inches, Califre 30-70. The brand which is finely engraved on top of the barrel London Fine Damascus Twist.” Barrel 8 square. The barrel and butt piece of breech pin look and guard all complete except that breech pin and lock and guard badly corroded with rust. They were all lying near together. Sam Pelham found the barrel and look. He and Jim Bledsoe went back together and found the guard which is supposed to be brass and fastened with a key on front and with a screw at the back part. Rib of barrel 2 3/8 inches In length counting from the muzzle and is supposed to be German silver. The barrel fastened to the stock by a loop made of iron which is badly rusted. It is a 7 rifle pistol the barrels loaded heavy, after taking the loads out some of the powder was put in the fire and it flashed a little. Part of the balls found in the barrel were round and the others were minnie balls. The charge of powder was so large that the balls were found to be nearly half way to the muzzle.
A REMARKABLE ESCAPE FROM DEATH
By S. C. Turnbo
Just over the line in Taney County, Missouri, on the north side of White River is a rough gulchlike hollow which mouths into the river at the upper end of the Panther Bottom. This gulch is known as Cedar Hollow. Up this gulch near one half a mile above the mouth is a cliff of rock which runs along on each side of the hollow. On the east side it Is 85 feet from the beginning to where the water pours down and on the west side it is 48 feet from where the water pours over to a gap in the cliff where the cliff sinks into the bluff. Just on the west side from where the water in the bed of the hollow pours down is a cave or basin in the rock wall that is 17 feet high and 9 feet deep. Below this along the bed of the branch and on each side of it is very rough with large rocks lying close together. The cliff where it crossed the channel of this hollow makes a sharp curve. At this place a bloody scene occurred during the Civil War. Three men, Bill Riddle, Ben Williams, and Anderson Moore, had camped a few nights in the basin of the cliff we have just mentioned and reconnoitering party of 3 men who happened to pass one afternoon near this locality discovered the smoke from the fire which the men had built under the shelving rock. This was on the 31st of January, 1865. The air was calm and the column of smoke had ascended high above the cliff. The parties who made the discovery lost no time in reporting it to a company of mounted federal soldiers who on the following morning at sunrise surrounded the hiding place of the three men and opened fire on them. The poor fellows were taken on surprise and were almost defenseless having but one old muzzle loading rifle with them. While the bullets fell in a shower around the startled men they offered to surrender but the attacking party refused to show them mercy and they started to run the gauntlet and fled down the rough gulch. Williams got only a few yards from the shelter when he was shot dead. Some 50 feet from where Williams fell on the west side of the bed of the hollow is the middle of a steep point of land or ridge like formation. On this spot Mr. Riddle received a severe wound in the fleshy part of the leg between the knee and ankle which knocked him down. Forty-five feet from here is a little rough gulch that empties into the main hollow 150 feet below where the water pours over the cliff, and after the man had fell he managed to crawl and roll into the little gulch. By this time he was able to rise to his feet again and amid a shower of bullets he ran down the gulch some 60 feet into the main hollow where he received a bad wound in the hand. He now ran down the hollow where he passed in a few feet of two guards that had been posted there to prevent the men from escaping in that direction. One was standing on each side of the bed of the branch and he ran between them and they both shot at him but missed the mark. The wounded and bleeding man ran on down the hollow a short distance below the two videts where he received A third wound but it failed to bring him down, onward he rushed a few yards further then leaving the rough hollow he ran up the hill on the east side and finally made his escape. Mr. Moore escaped without being hit and ran along on the side of the hill on the west side of the hollow to the mouth and concealed himself under a drift. The attacking party who it is said numbered 20 men did not pursue Riddle and assembled together on the side of the hill west of the cliff and rode on down to the point of the bluff where they dismounted and lead their horses down the steep hillside and across the mouth of Cedar Hollow and down through the Panther Bottom. As the soldiers were passing the mouth of the hollow they passed in a few yards of the driftwood in which Moore was hid. Now let us return to Bill Riddle who ‘was fleeing for his life. The morning was cold with a crisp wind blowing and the wounded man’s blood was slowly ebbing away. The excitement from the attack, exhaustion from running, and the suffering from the wounds and loss of blood made him weak and cold and he felt as though he would stagger and fall as he ran over the ridge just east of the hollow and down the hill into Pine Hollow. Going down this hollow ¼ of a mile he stopped to rest under a ledge of rock, but thinking the enemy might pursue him he left his rock shelter and fled onward and made his way to Big Greek and sought refuge under another ledge of rock in the face of the bluff just below the Daniel Quick ford where he lay behind big icicles weak and shivering with cold. Late in the afternoon he saw the same company of men pass up the creek. Soon after dark the wounded man left his icy bed and groped his way over the rough hills and across the rugged hollows to where he lived on the Allen Lucas place at the mouth of Little Buck Creek. As the man was crossing Cedar Hollow below the cliff where they were attacked he saw a light where the dead body of Williams lay and heard voices which proved to be the grief stricken mother. Mrs. Mary Anderson, wife of John Anderson and other women preparing to take the remains of her beloved child to the ridge just west of the Robert Case-bolt residence on Big Creek to bury them in a grave that had been dug to receive the remains of Mr. Casebolt who was killed on Buffalo, but it was found that the body of Mr. Casebolt could not be brought back home and he was buried where he was slain and Mr. William’s body was buried in the grave that was dug for the reception of the dead body of Mr. Casebolt. Mrs. Anderson was formerly a widow woman and Mr. Anderson had married her near Fort Smith, Arkansas. On the following morning Mr. Riddle mounted a horse that had got away from the enemy in the excitement of the attack and which was found by some of Riddle’s friends in the Buck Bottom just above the mouth of Big Buck Creek and he rode him to the Mat Hovelenpile farm where he made the horse swim the river with him at the mouth of Big Beach Hollow and made his way to his friends in Locust Hollow who took charge of him. The wounded and suffering man was bad chilled with cold when he arrived there, his wet and bloody clothes were so bad frozen on him that they had to be out off of him before they could put dry ones on him. Just as soon as his friends could move him they taken him into the forest of pine trees near where Dodd City now stands where they built a shelter and kept him there until he recovered from his wounds. Oh those terrible gloomy days how dark and bloody they were.
DEATH BY THE ROADSIDE
By S. C. Turnbo
One among the many accounts of the killing of men in the state of Arkansas is this one furnished me by A. N. (Andrew) Dotson, son of Simon and Jane Dotson. His mother was a daughter of Nick Norris. Andy was born 11 miles west of Smithville in Lawrence County, Arkansas, October 12, 1853-The land on which he was born is on Strawberry River in what is now Sharp County. Andy Dotson’s parents are both buried in the Norris grave yard between Evening Shade and Smithville. Mr. Dotson said that his brother Dick Dotson who was 8 years his senior was a member of Colonel Bob Shaver’s regiment and stuck to the end of the war and was paroled at Shreveport, Louisiana. He died in New Madrid County, Missouri, in 1875 and lies buried in a grave yard near New Madrid Post Office. One day when the weather was cool in the latter part of the year 1863 a scouting party of union men captured two men supposed to be deserters from the confederate army and killed them at the roadside. The two unfortunate fellows were arrested near the residence of Captain Bill Sanders 11 miles west of Smithville on the Strawberry River. I assisted to bury the dead bodies by digging a hole at the roadside where they lay and put both bodies into it and covered them up with dirt. They remained here 6 weeks when a lot of men took them up and put them in coffins and buried them in a grave yard where the Smithville and Evening Shade wagon road crosses Strawberry River and is near where Andy Smith’s mill now stands. When the two bodies were exhumed they looked as fresh as when they were buried. Blood run out of the bullet holes. The bodies were removed one mile and a half.” said Mr. Dotson.
THE SALT PETER CAVE BLUFF AND THE CAPTURE OF THE POWDER WORKS THERE
By S. C. Turnbo
On the south side of White River in Marion County, Arkansas, and some 6 or 7 miles below Oakland is a noted bluff that a few of the early pioneers along White River claimed that during the earliest settling up of Marion County that one night an explosion occurred in the face of this bluff. The detonation was said to have been heard for miles and resembled the bursting of a large meteor causing the earth to tremble. Whether this be true or not I have no way of confirming. But it is possible that such a report was heard and was in connection with the memorable earthquake in 1811. This bluff was made famous during the early part of the Civil War, The confederate authorities kept a small force of men here awhile to protect the powder works and the employees while engaged in the manufacture of powder from salt peter that was found here. The powder was made for the use of the confederate soldiers. The salt peter was taken from a cave in the bluff hence the name of the bluff. A brief account from several sources of the capture of the confederate forces and the works here are given to show something of the soldiers employed here and the extent of the works. We will first quote from official records of the war of the rebellion that the writer examined in the confederate home library at Higginsville, Missouri, in the month of June, 1907. General Samuel R. Curtis a federal officer in reporting to General H. W. Halleck under date of November 30, 1862, says that General Herron said that the salt peter works were destroyed. Sixty prisoners were taken and over 100 horses. The troops who took the works were the 1st Iowa, 10th Illinois, and 2nd Wisconsin. The commander of this combined force was Colonel D. Wickersham of the 10th Illinois. The southern men captured belonged to Burbridge’s command. Five hundred shot guns were also captured. In another report we read that Captain Burch 14th Missouri state militia with 40 men destroyed the salt peter works which included 5 buildings 1 engine 26 large kettles 6 tanks blacksmith and carpenter shops and tools $6,000 worth of salt peter 500 barrels of jerked beef and 42 prisoners. This last report is claimed to be a second destruction of the works and was reported by Brigadier General E. B. Brown, Springfield, Missouri, December 18, 1862, to General Samuel R. Curtis.” Another report says that Milton Burch claimed that the force at the cave were 23 men who were captured, the shot guns and old rifles were destroyed, 4 mules, 3 horses and 2 wagons were captured. The wagons were destroyed the salt peter works cost the confederate government $30,000. Captain McNar was in command of the southern forces at the cave. The federal forces marched to this bluff from Ozark, Christian County, Missouri.” We will now give a brief account of the capture of the salt peter cave bluff works by “Mun” Treat a southern man and who was one of the party employed to assist in making powder he says, “When the federals attacked the works there were 13 men present who were in charge of Perry Tucker with Pate Moreland as cook and waiter. Our camp was on the summit of the bluff and consisted of a few log huts two of which was filled with dried beef, The men were paid 60 cts per day In Chattanooga money which was good currency at that time. We had got in a fair way of turning out powder when the federal forces put an end to the works. The strength of the federal forces that captured the works was 150 strong and was under the command of Captain Burch, Soon after we were taken prisoners the union forces burned our quarters and destroyed the other works except that if I mistake not they left a few of the large kettles uninjured. Among our party that were captured were Henry Ray, son of M. P. Ray who lived at the mouth of East Sugar Loaf Creek and John Yandell who lived on Elbow Creek In Taney County, Missouri, and John Crawford who also lived in Taney County. Henry Ray died suddenly on the side walk in St. Louis while the prisoners were being marched through the city. It was supposed that he was overcome by heat. It was intimated by Mr. Treat that the southern forces who were ordered to guard and protect the men and works got too far away on the approach of the federals. Some of the foregoing reports made by some of the federal officers to their superiors in rank were no doubt exagerated and if there any second capture of these works I was never reliably informed of it.
MORE KILLING IN WAR DAYS
By S. C. Turnbo
In writing of the blood curdling scenes of the Civil War as they occurred along White River during that awful conflict between the men of North and South I almost shudder while thinking of it. We have written an account of a number of men who were killed, robbed or tortured. It is almost impossible to collect all the facts belonging to these bloody incidents and no doubt many horrible things were done that a record of It was never written and will never get into print. Among these stirring scenes of blood and death is one which took place soon after peace was declared or in the month of May, 1865, which I give here as told me by reliable authority. A man of the name of Henry Darrest or “Doss” as he was commonly known settled on Shoal Creek in Taney County, Missouri, a few years before the breaking out of the war. The land he lived on is above the town of Protem and is called now the Andy Shelton place. Darrest was a son-in-law of the old man Sims, his wife’s name was Mary Ann. Some time before the close of hostilities between the north and south Darrest moved south of the river in what is now Crocket Township in Marion County, Arkansas. Two of Mr. Darrest’s brother-in-laws John Sims and Peter Sims, the latter of which was only 12 years old, lived with him or near him. The uncle Billy Holt farm which is on the north side of the river just above the mouth of Shoal Creek was deserted as it was nearly impossible for the family to remain there until after peace was restored. During the spring season of 1865 the Holt residence was occupied by a small body of federal soldiers. One day in May four of these soldiers got into a canoe at the Holt landing with the intention of going across to the south side but soon after leaving the shore someone who is supposed to be a brushwhacker began to shoot at them and they turned back toward the landing. The man who was at the top of the bluff continued to fire but overshot them but finally he drew aim lower and a ball struck the water behind the canoe and bounced and took effect in the back of one of the men named Jim Huff which gave him a severe wound. His comrades landed the canoe in haste and conveyed him to the Holt residence and in a day or two part of the men after robbing the house of bed clothes and wearing clothes some of which belonged to uncle Billy Holt who had been dead several years, they started to Forsyth and soon after arriving there the wounded man died. It seems that the other men either remained there or stayed close by with the intention of getting revenge for the death of their comrade. One day Henry Darrest, John Sims, Peet Sims and a man of the name of John-son got into a canoe at the Ned Coker residence or where they had stood for they were burned down during the war and started across to the north side. Darrest was going home to round up a few hogs he had left and the others were going along to assist him. They were not suspecting trouble for peace was declared and nearly all the confederate soldiers had surrendered. But it seems that Huff’s friends were determined to kill some-body for the loss of their soldier mate. It was very wrong in the man who shot at the federal soldiers from the top of the bluff for innocent parites had to suffer for It. It is supposed that when the Southerners left the bank of the river that the federal party were on the watch and went to the bank of the river above the Holt residence where they knew the men would land the canoe and lay in ambush for them. Mr. Darrest was paddling or guiding the canoe. The river was swollen several feet past fording. As the men in the canoe was nearing the north shore the federal soldiers opened fire on them. Darrest was shot three times and fell out of the canoe into the water and lodged against a willow 20 feet below where he was killed. John Sims was wounded and leaped into the water and attempted to swim back to the south bank but was shot and killed before he had swam but a few yards and his body was swallowed up by the swift muddy water. Peter Sims the boy was slightly wounded and he dropped down in the bottom of the canoe and lay flat on his stomach to avoid other bullets as much as possible. Johnson was not touched and he jumped into the water behind the canoe and caught the stern end of the craft with his left hand and with his right hand he exerted all his strength in keeping the canoe between himself and the enemy as a barrier to avoid the bullets and while doing this he kept pulling and working to reach the south shore. It was a critical moment for the bullets come in a shower and splintered and perforated the sides of the little dugout. Peet Sims received several slight wounds in the shoulder but he never flinched but lay as quiet as if he were dead and while Johnson was midway between the two shores struggling in the water In pulling the canoe along under great difficulties the enemy shot the end of one finger off that he used in holding to the end of the canoe but he held on with the remaining fingers and succeeded in landing the canoe a few feet below the spring that runs out of the river bank at the lower end of the old Ned Coker farm. Though the enemy continued to load and shoot at them all the time while he was crossing and young Sims had received more wounds in the shoulder and some in the back which put him past getting up on his feet when the canoe was landed and as soon as Johnson noticed this after he landed the canoe and while under a heavy fire he picked up the wounded boy In his arms and carried him up the bank and layed him down behind a tree. They were now comparatively safe for the enemy had no means to cross the river and they ceased firing and retired. After Johnson had rested a-while he picked up young Sims and carried him to safer quarter and hurried off for assistance and the wounded boy was taken to a house where he was oared for until he recovered from his wounds. In 3 or 4 days after the enemy had gone and the water in the river had fallen R. S. (Dick) Holt, W. A. (Bill) Pumphrey and others procured a canoe and began a search for the bodies of Darrest and John Sims and discovered the body of the former at the willow tree as mentioned above. They lifted the dead man into the canoe and taken it down this “river” to the Bill Coker farm where they dug a grave on the river bank opposite the mouth of Shoal Creek and buried it in a vault without a coffin but they covered the body over with pieces of plank before filling in the dirt. The remains of John Sims was never found except a few human bones and some remnant clothes that was discovered on an island opposite the old Joe Magness place one mile above the mouth of Big Creek that was supposed to be his. These were found In the sand several months after Sims was killed.
A STIRRING MOMENT JUST BEFORE THE BREAK OF DAY
By S. C. Turnbo
No doubt there are many Civil War incidents that have never been written and never will be printed and will be entirely lost. Though many of them may be small affairs yet they are worthy of a place in history and ought to be preserved. The following account was furnished me by Mr. Levi Sallie. “During the closing scenes of the Civil War, said he, Man old vacant house stood near the base of the Washington Bald hill and some 3 miles northwest of Lutie, Missouri. This cabin was on what was then known as the Sam Merritt place. One night near the period of time that peace was declared between the contending forces of the north and south four or five men who had been soldiers in the federal army and who were passing through the country stopped at this building to pass the night. Two or three of the men had their wives and children with them and they all stayed in the house together. On the following morning a short time before the break of day the party were unexpectedly attacked by 15 mounted men who were federal soldiers and who had been on a scouting expedition and were on their return back. The soldiers supposed that those in the house were confederates and they began shooting at an opening or crack in the house. Through this space they observed a light in the house which they were convinced was caused by a fire in the fireplace. Several shots were fired at this crack some of which passed through the open space into the building. The men on the inside of the house promptly returned the fire. There was a commotion in the house. Women screamed, children cried and men cursed, for they thought the outsiders were confederates. Directly the soldiers ordered the men in the house to come out and surrender which they refused to do. They not only thought they were confederates but the worst type of bushwhackers or guerrillas and they did not propose to surrender to them. If they knew they were regular confederates no doubt they would have surrendered but as it was it was cheaper, to fight until they died than surrender and be put to death afterward like a lot of fatening hogs. The outside men now says, “We will burn you out if you do not give up your arms.” and the inside party replied, Burn the house if you want to we will fight you by the light of the fire.” Then the inside party continued, “Who are you fellows.” “We are federal soldiers.” the spokesman answered. “Good, we are all of the same stripe,” said one of the insiders ” and there is no need of us fighting and an explanation followed and peace was made between the two parties at once. Not one in the house was touched. How the women and children as well as the men escaped the bullets is a wonder. One of the soldiers on the outside was slightly wounded in the hand.”
A STIRRING SCENE OF THE CIVIL WAR ONE MORNING IN OZARK COUNTY, MISSOURI
By S. C. Turnbo
There were a number of little things that took place in Civil War times that will never be put in print from the fact that they were not considered worth the while to keep a record of them. Long after the close of the war however some of these little affairs have been mentioned by the participants and have often been referred to as war time Incidents and ought to have a place in history. The following account is gleaned from people of both sides and I write it as it was given to me.
On the 23rd day of September, 1862, a company of mounted men belonging to the United States forces reached the vicinity of Big Creek near where the Quick school house now stands 1 mile east of Big Creek. Probably the force of men number about 75. They were fully equipped and well armed. They were commanded by Captain James H. Sallee and some say that Captain Wm. Piland was in the command too. The officers of these men had heard of a small force of southern men who were camped on Big Creek just below the mouth of McVey’s hollow where Lewis Ramsey was living at the time we speak of. The strength of the confederates is not accurately known but there were sup-posed to be 60 men. They were command by Captains Cawkarn and Campbell. It is said that the first named lived in Webster County, Missouri. The confederates were poorly mounted and badly equipped and had only two rounds of ammunition. The excessive rains kept the guns wet and it was a difficult matter to keep their scanty ammunition dry. The heavy rains were trying on the federals too but they had better clothing and good cartridge boxes to keep their shooting stuff dry. It seems that the federal troopers remained overnight on the timbered ridge just south of where the Quick school house now Is and it also appears that the southern men had went further up the creek and camped at the mouth of McVey hollow. Thus the two parties were watching each other. From the in-formation I have gathered of this little incident both sides held two prisoners each. The two that the southern men held were John Bevins and one of Jess Evens sons. Robert Casebolt and Jemima Casebolt his wife or have been said were early settlers of Ozark County, Missouri, and were living on Big Creek on what is now the Ben Quick farm some distance below the mouth of McVey hollow, The Casebolts were strictly southern and the old folks including their children were true and faithful to the south. On the following morning a party of federals paid the Casebolt family a visit with the intention of killing him. Mrs. Casebolt heard the noise of the horses feet approaching the house and gave her husband warning. James Casebolt and Andrew Jackson Casebolt, nephews of Mr. Casebolt, sons of Jake Casebolt who died on the Gasconade River and Decalb Roberts and “Bob” Casebolt and Jim Casebolt, sons of Robert Casebolt, were sleeping in the kitchen. When Mrs. Casebolt heard the horses feet she says, “Robert, jump up quick and run. I believe them is federals coming.” “No ” says Mr. Casebolt, “it’s southern boys.” In a few seconds the horsemen had charged up to the yard gate and Casebolt found that he was mistaken and leaped out of bed and yelled to the other boys to “get out of there in a hurry for the enemy is at hand.” Then he darted out at the door onto the porch and leaped over the banisters and ran into a patch of sorghum cane and through it to a place of concealment. Case-bolt took time to snatch up his pistol but was compelled to leave the house barefooted and in his night clothes. The Young man Roberts and two of the young Casebolts snatched up their pistols and what clothes they could lay their hands on and started to run out of the kitchen but seeing James Case-bolt, nephew of Robert Casebolt. was soared so bad that he tried to go up the chimney, they stopped and hurried him out of the house into the entry and into the sorghum patch and out on the side of the hill where they stopped. As they were getting away the federals began shooting at them, At this moment Mrs. Casebolt and the girls snatched bed quilts and bed sheets from the beds and stretched them out and held them up by the corners so as to hide the retreating forms of the boys from the aim of the federals as much as possible. Jim Casebolt, their youngest boy, was too small for the federals to pay any attention to and he did not leave the house. While the men were getting away and the federals were shooting at them in the early dawn of the morning, the women were screaming while they were holding the quilts up to interpose an obstacle between the enemy and those who were running from danger for Mrs. Casebolt and her daughters believed that the enemy would pursue the men and kill them all. It was now that. Mrs. Casebolt resorted to another expedient by snatching down the dinner horn and blew a loud blast. Then she hallooed and continued to blow the horn and halloo as loud as she could until one of the officers dismounted and jerked the horn out of her hand and threw it as far as he could over the fence. The federals thinking that she was giving a signal to the confederates to approach they now galloped away. After they were gone the girls took the shoes and clothes to the men and they all returned to the house except James Casebolt, nephew of Robert Casebolt, and he was so terrified that he took to the woods and did not come back until the third day and was almost famished for food. Soon after the federals had returned to their command near where the Quick school house is and the confederates were on the creek at the mouth of McVey hollow, the federal officers sent Tom Wells and another man on good horses to reconnoiter the enemy and when the confederate pickets discovered them they charged them and they retreated back to their command. They exchanged a few shots but no serious damage was done to either side. When the southern men had returned to their command, Cawkarn and Campbell deemed it prudent to go southward and they crossed Big Creek at the next ford below the Daniel Quick ford and followed the old trail to the top of the hill where the Doe Bledsoe place is now and passed on down to the lower end of the Panther Bottom where they crossed white River and went on by the John Knight house on the head of Music Greek and went on southward.
BAD TREATMENT FOLLOWED BY REVENGE
By S. C. Turnbo
The writer received the following history of an incident that occurred in the bloody days of the Civil War. This was written at Arlington, Washington, by J. D. Row under date of August 11, 1907. Mr. Row wrote that he learned it from an old timer who lived on Bee Creek which has its source in North Boone County, Arkansas, and empties into White River in Taney County, Missouri, Here is the way he told it to me.
“When the war come up the people who lived in what is now Boone County, Arkansas, were divided in their political views. Many honest soul went into the southern service, others went with the north. Several of the men in the federal army were located at Springfield, Missouri, and their families were having a seriously hard time at their homes. Some of their neighbors who sympathized with the south were not manly enough to go into the regular service and they took pleasure in making it as disagreeable for these women and their children as they could. Finally three of these families decided to yoke up a span of oxen to each of their wagons and make their way to Springfield where their husbands were located, in the northern army. They had but fairly got started when they were overtaken by several of their reckless neighbors, boys and men. They were set out of their wagons by the road-side, their wagons and contents set on fire, and their oxen driven away. They were more than 60 miles from Springfield without food and shelter and nothing but their scanty clothes on their backs, Nothing at home to go back to. They wended their way on foot toward their destination. In 12 days of destitution and untold suffering they reached their husbands and fathers in Springfield. One sweet little child was laid away in the cold ground by the way side. The whole union force was much exasperated at such treatment given to help-less women and children. Their starved and almost naked condition corroborated the account of their ill treatment. The officers in command told the men whose families had been treated so cruelly, to pick out what help they thought they needed, from the command, and go and teach that neighborhood a lasting lesson. About 25 men took the Fort Smith road which lead them into Carroll County. From there they went east into what is now the middle of Boone County. The women had give the names of their assailants, and they knew where to find where they lived. From about the vicinity of where Harrison on Crooked Creek now is these twenty-five men went north and visited the homes of each person who had taken part in abusing these women. They would call at the yardgate and woe to the man, or boy of any site, who appeared at the door. They would throw leaden balls till their victims sank down, then ride on in haste to the next man’s house who had been named by the women. Among the band that had done the awful deed was one young man by the name of Denton. The women had not stated to their husbands and friends that it was the young Denton and when the soldiers called at the Denton house the old gentleman opened the door fearlessly, and as he stood in the midst of the open door he received the first ball that was fired at him which took effect in his bowels. He immediately sank to the floor and the men silently rode away. But he did not die. He recovered and lived until about the year 1898 when he died. When the war come up he told his two or three boys who were nearly grown that they must remain at home if it was possible to do so, attend to their own business, and let all others do what they may. But when the war spirit took possession of them they got into many desperate affairs and difficulties. Mr. Denton said afterward that he had to suffer for the meanness of his boys.
HOW THE MAN WILLOUGHBY HALL WAS SCALPED
By S. C. Turnbo
The following account is not written for the purpose of renewing sectional strife, but is given to show the horrors of war. We do not wish to mar the feelings of anyone but I write it to show how barbarous and cruel some men were in those dark and turbulent days when they had an opportunity to avenge the death of a friend and relative. In some sections the war was carried on regardless of the rules of war and many unhuman deeds were done on both sides. It made no difference how cruel a man was put to death by an enemy the friends of the one that suffered death would retaliate in a more cruel manner on some man that belonged to the opposite side at the first opportunity. At the beginning of the Civil War Hugh McClure lived on Little North Fork just above the mouth Upper Turkey Creek. The land on which he lived. was once known as the Dave Jones mill place. When the war had got to red heat McClure moved his family into Marion County, Arkansas, and lived on Clabber Creek that empties into the Buffalo Fork of White River from the north side. Bill Cain, son of Jimmie Cain, lived on Little North Fork just below where Thornfield is now. He and McClure were southern sympathizers and took action with the south. Mr. Cain also moved into Marion County and took up his abode on Jimmie’s Creek. Mr. McClure had a son whose given name was John who after the war began lived on the George Pearson farm on White River below where the town of Oakland is and a mile or more above where Pace’s Ferry is now. The house he lived in stood on the bank of the river a few yards above the grave yard. One day a party of the enemy rode by the house while John McClure was in it. Soon after the soldiers had gone by and before they had gone out of sight McClure stuck his head out at the door to watch the men ride along in the road which lead on the bank and the enemy discovered him and the men wheeled their horses and charged back to the yard fence and forced the man to come out of the house and conducted him to the road and made him trot before them until they reached near the grave yard when they shot him to death and left his body for the women and children to bury. One day some time after the death of John McClure Bill Cain headed a company of southern men and they rode up Little North Fork to the Bob Gilliland farm three miles above the mouth of Little Creek and one mile above the mouth of Otter Creek. The Gilliland place use to be known as the Herrod Holt farm, It was also called for awhile the Charley King place. Years ago Mr. King was sheriff of Ozark County. When Bill Cain and his men arrived at this farm they discovered two men in the barn one of which proved to be Willoughby Hall son of Dave Hall. It was said that Willoughby Hall help to kill John McClure. Hall’s companion was Jim Gilliland son of Bob Gilliland. As the two men ran out of the barn in attempt to make their escape Gilliland was shot through the thigh and fell. At this Cain’s men discovered that he was a regular federal soldier on leave of absence and they did not kill him or carry him off as a prisoner, but treated him with respect. But not so with Willoughby Hall. Some say that Hall was wounded in the barn before he got out, but I was informed by several parties that he got over the lot fence and made a desperate effort to escape with his life but the deadly bullets were sent after him in a shower by the southerners and after Hall had run through a small grove of saplings which stood thick he reached the bed of the branch a few yards below the barn where he was struck by another bullet and fell on a bed of rock 25 yards from the fence. Hugh McClure, father of John McClure, was with the bunch of southern men and on observing the man Hall fall to the ground he ran forward with knife in hand and a caught the dying man by the hair on the foretop of the head and scalped him by cutting around on the skin of the head and hair 3 inches square and then jerked and peeled it off while Hall was in the agony of death. And after waiting until the man-was entirely dead Cain and his men mounted their horses and returned back down North Forks McClure carrying the scalp with him and when the party got back into Arkansas McClure exhibited the scalp to several parties they met. By this time the scalp give off an offensive odor and riding up to a house on Sister Creek on the south side of White River he called for salt to rub on the scalp to prevent it from “spoiling” as he termed it. He carried it until just before he arrived at Yellville when from the odor from it was so sickening that he refused to carry it further and noticing a hollow stump 4 feet high which stood at the side of the road and riding up to it McClure tossed the scalp into the hollow of this stump and rode on with the other men. I am told that this same stump which was hollow from the ground to the top stood there 30 years after the close of the war. The stump was in the hollow that leads down to Yellville from toward Flippin. My authors of this account were Peter Keesee who lived near Protem, Missouri, and Billy Parker who lived on Jimmie’s Creek in Marion County, Arkansas, and others. Mr. Keesee said that McClure rubbed the scalp well with salt before he threw it into the stump and went back in a few days afterward and took it out again and carried it to his home on Clabber Creek where he preserved it several months. Mr. Keesee said that the scalp had contracted to the size of a silver dollar. The flesh side had assumed the color of gold and the skin was a half an inch think, Continuing Mr. Keesee Said., “I heard Captain Bill Piland say one day some time after Hall was killed that he did not blame McClure for helping to kill Hall for he had taken part in killing John McClure but he did blame him for depriving the dying man of his scalp look for that was barbarous and horrible in the extreme.”
A TEARFUL SCENE
By S. C. Turnbo
“The most pathetic scene I ever witnessed during the Civil War was at the battle of Pleasant Hill in Louisiana on the 9th of April, 1864.” said Mr. W. F. Stone of near Protem, Missouri. “I entered the confederate service in Maries County, Missouri, and belonged to Captain Alex Trommels company in Colonel Steins old regiment in General M.M. Parsons brigade. During the engagement at Pleasant Hill we broke the enemies lines in front of our regiment and the federals retreated in disorder and we chased them into the town of Pleasant Hill. But as we had made only a narrow gap through the lines, the enemy come near flanking us and if we had not been handled by skillful officers who extricated us we no doubt would have been all killed or captured. While we were fighting in the town some 4 or 5 of us chased 2 or 3 federals into a dwelling house where the federals escaped into another room. We would have followed them but the moment we entered the first room in pursuit of the enemy we were chocked at the sight of a woman sitting in the house with an infant on her lap. The baby had been shot in the face and its cheeks, mouth and neck was red with blood. The poor mother was crying. I suppose the child was almost dead for it was not making any noise, but it was still alive. we halted immediately and watched the dying infant a moment then turned and hurried out on the street and rejoined our men and fell back to our original line. This was the last I ever seen or heard of the distracted mother and her dying infant.
THEY DETESTED THE COWARDICE OF THE ONE AND ADMIRED THE BRAVERY OF THE OTHER
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. John Bias, son of Hiram Bias who in war times served in Co. B. 16 Missouri Cavalry union side, tells the following incidents which occurred while the federal army were beating back General Sterling Price and his men in October, 1864. “While we were near Kansas City, Missouri,” said Mr. Bias, “I saw a soldier bring a confederate soldier who he had captured in a hemp stack where the Southerner had attempted to hide himself before a federal officer. The officer ask the man what he was doing up there and the prisoner who showed evidence of being badly demoralized replied in this way. “I was conscripted and was forced to join the southern army or I would not have been here.” This he spoke in a whining and begging manner. The officer looked on him in contempt and says you are a coward and do not deserve the treatment due a prisoner of war and no doubt you joined the rebel army willingly and afraid to acknowledge it. At this moment some of the soldiers brought a young man as prisoner before the same officer. He was a brave looking fellow and did not seem to fear anything. The officer ask the young fellow the same question he had ask the other prisoner and the young man promptly answered. “I am here doing my best to drive you devils back to keep you from pursuing use” This was given in such a bold and fearless way that all the federal soldiers who were in hearing gave a big cheer and the line of blue coats took it up and the loud cheering went up the line. The other man was abused, some of the men went far enough to kick him. In a few seconds more the officer says to the young man, “When did you see Pop Price.” And he said, “Just awhile ago, and I do wish I was on the hind seat of his buggie with him.” And the soldiers gave the gallant young fellow another cheer, This is no hearsay with me. I saw it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears.” said Mr. Bias.
SHOCKING SCENES ENACTED AT YELLVILLE
By S. C. Turnbo
Yellville, Arkansas, was a scene of blood and carnage during the latter part of the Civil War. There were a large number of men shot to death in town and their bodies left where they fell for the hogs and dogs to devour. I will mention a few cases in a brief way to show how far this cruel war was carried on in this town at Its worst. These accounts were gathered from reliable sources, Miss Martha Ann Taylor, a daughter of William Taylor, who lived on Water Creek near where the Flag Spring is said that while they were moving from Water Creek to Dallas County, Missouri, in war times they had to stop a few days in Yellville and while they were there she saw two dead men lying in a ditch and the hogs were eating them. Miss Taylor said when this horrible scene met her eye she staggered with terror and her limbs seemed paralyzed for a moment and as soon as she could recover from the shook she fled from the spot. Martha married Wm. Mahan in Dallas County, Missouri, and she would often repeat this story to her husband. She died near Pontiac, Missouri, in 1889 and was buried in the grave yard at the mouth of Brattons Spring Creek.
Mr. Brice Milum, a former resident of Yellville, told me that a man of the name of William Busket was shot to death in Yellville one day 100 yards from the Weart Hotel. The weather was cold with snow on the ground and the body lay there three days and the hogs mutilated it by eating the ears off. Mrs. Sally Woods, wife of Derl Woods, and a few other women dug a grave and buried the remains near where Mr. Busket was executed. They had no coffin but they wrapped the body in a blanket. The ladies were not allowed to bury the dead man east and west according burial rites and customs but made them dig the grave north and south or crossways as they termed it. Mrs. Woods was a sister of John Adams and was a daughter of Mr. Matthew Adams.
One day in the early autumn of 1865 I and Lewis R. Pumphrey while passing along the street where the lower part of Yellville now stands he pointed to a spot of ground near where we were and said, “There is where one brave man died.” And Mr. Pumphrey and Mr. Brice Milum give me a history of the case in the following way. The mans name was Tom Jobe and he lived in Missouri and was accused of being a southern ‘bushwhacker.” It was said that he was a desperate man and had slain several men who wore the blue. The federals captured him at the mouth of the South Fork of East Sugar Loaf Creek just above where the town of Lead Hill now stands. Jobe and Blueff McGroove were together. The latter escaped. Jobe wore a pair of boots and the enemy in shooting at him one of the balls hit his boot leg while he was running and split it open. The ball wounded him in the leg. After they captured him they took him to Yellville and kept him under guard a week and then executed him which was done in the following ways. After Jobe was conducted to the designated place for execution and after being told that he must die he was ask by the commanding officer how many federals he had slain since the beginning of the war and the doomed man reflected a half a minute and then replied in a stoical way, “Well, about 40 is as nigh as I can estimate the number on this short notice.” And the answer to this was a volley of bullets shot into the mania body and he passed from life into eternity. Mr. Milum said that Jobe was executed 100 yards in front of his door yard and that his wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Milum, saw the execution from the house. Mr. Milum and Mr. Pumphrey both said that Jobe’s body lay in a mud hole several days where the dogs eat on it. Some of the soldiers as they rode by would ride over the body as it lay in the mud. and others would pass around it. Those that rode over him had hearts of stone and cared for nothing of a Christian nature and the ones that rode around him was either of a superstitious feeling or carried a soft heart in their breast. Mr. Milum said that after the federals left the town he and “Ice” Stinnette out cedar poles from the cedar grove nearby and built a pen around the remains of Jobe and filled the pen with stones.
YELLVILLE IN THE DARK DAYS OF CIVIL WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
This is one of North Arkansas noted places, part of the town is located on a bluff of Crooked Creek and is the county seat of Marion County. The first settlement by white people here dates back to the early thirties. The beautiful groves of timber, ornamental trees, handsome dwellings and substantial business houses form a lovely picture. The surrounding scenery is fine and romantic. The ripling waters of Crooked Creek flow along just on the south side of the town which helps to make the view of the town and vicinity more beautiful.
Yellville is increasing in size and business every year, and has been an important place of trade ever since its existence as a white man’s town.
The first railroad meeting in Marion County was held by the citizens at this place in 1860 for the purpose of agitating the coming of a railroad through the picturesque hills of Northwest Arkansas. Since the close of the Civil War and after the opening of mines in Marion and adjoining counties the citizens Of Yellville and other towns of North Ark. have been offering inducements from time to time for the construction of a railway for the benefit of the business men. farming class and people of other occupations and now the rumbling of the train and the shriek of the iron horse is heard at Yellville and up the valley of Crooked Greek which is encouraging to the merchant, the miner, the stock dealer., farmer and other classes that stand in need of railroad facilities.
Where Yellville now stands or a part of it at least, was once occupied by an Indian village called Shawnee town, while this village was being evacuated by the red men the white men took Possession of it which began about the year 1832. Productive farms and prosperous people are found all around this little north Arkansas city. Yellville was named for Colonel Archibald Yell, a soldier who commanded an Arkansas regiment of gallant men in the war with Mexico; and was slain by a Mexican lancer in the hard fought battle of Bunavista while so nobley defending the rights of his country. The people of the noble state of Arkansas and those of Marion County in particular should not forget Colonel Yell and his regiment of Arkansas boys who so willingly offered their services to preserve the honor of the United States and the pioneers of Texas. Arkansas ought to build a monument at some place in the state in memory of her heroic men who fell in war. If any of us cherish an ill feeling engendered by war let us drop it and treat the memory of all the old soldiers alike who belonged to the state of Arkansas whether they served in the Mexican war or on either side during the bloody conflict between the states.
Yellville was quite a little town when the Civil War with its fiery darts struck the state of Arkansas, during that awful strife nearly every building in the town was reduced to ashes. To give an idear of the destruction of property in Yellville and neighborhood we will make a brief statement of the burning of the town as gleaned-from a reliable source. There is a hill south of Crooked Creek known in the pioneer days as Bald Jess which was named for Jess Everette who in time of the Everette and King war at Yellville would frequently ascend to the top of this hill and watch the village to note if there were any disturbance in town between the two factions. If there were any trouble in sight he would stay away from the village until quiet prevailed. But if the villagers seemed to be at peace with each other he would venture into town.Mr. Brice Milum who was a resident of Yellville and who was a merchant there at the breaking out of hostilities informed me that when part of the town was set on fire he was standing on the summit of this same hill and saw thirteen houses burn down at the same time. The beautiful little town, where once was life and activity, vanished in smoke and cinders. It was a sad day for the surviving residents to view the dense volumes of black smoke as it floated high above the burning town, and drifted over the crests of the neighboring hills. This is not written to stir up sectional strife or cause the old sores which have healed to break out afresh and again hear the moans of the dying and witness the devastation and destitution of the beautiful sunny land—far from it—but to give warning to future generations to look and reflect before they leap. Civil War should never be encouraged or tolerated in our land and country. If our great republic has to engage in war let it be against a foreign foe and never that unless it is compelled to save its honor and integrity. It is much better to keep out of war if we can avoid it in an honorable way than to plunge Into it uncalled for. If war must come let it be against a foreign enemy, and not against ourselves. Just think of the hundreds and thousands of men who enlisted in the armies of the blue and grey from 1861 to 1865 who perished from exposure on the march and in camp and on the field of slaughter. Remember these men were from North and South. They were Americans. Yet they fell out over a matter that could have been set right without the force of arms. But the agitators of the north and south could not be satisfied until the people of the United States divided against them-selves and the result was that a bitter war was stirred up and the men of north and south met each other on the battle-field and fought it to a finish. I shudder every time I think of it. In Civil War, or war between nations, many individuals become speculators and grow rich through crookedness. While others have to stem the current of battle and the mass of people living in the territory involved are forced to bear the horrors f destitution and suffering imposed by the contending armies. What a grand thing it would be for all nations to be at peace with one another, and it ought to be that the people of every nation should live in peace with each other. But as long as one class of people or nation domineers over another there will be strife, contention, strained relations, rumors of war which may ultimately culminate in real war.
It should be the duty of rulers of the civilized nations to promote peace among their people by having them taught the principal of true Christianity and all those that would willingly accept the love of God would lay down their carnal weapons and put on the armor of God and do all they could to prevent war and its awful results. It should be the desire of every one from tie highest official down to the humblest citizen to strive for a good government independent of some of the policies of political parties, There is too much craving and pulling for the almighty dollar. Money is all right in its place and it is all wrong when it is improperly used. In many cases the dollar is used to the advantage of one class of people and to the disadvantage of another. To much politics and the hunger and greed for the accumulation of money creates dissatisfaction among the people which usually brings on bad results.
Now let us return to our subject. I well remember being at Yellville one day in the month of July, 1861, when a call was made for volunteers to join the confederate army. A company of men raised in Marion County and the southern part of Taney County, Missouri, were present. Those patriotic citizens had volunteered their services to defend the southern cause. Their commanding officer was Captain Wm. C. Mitchell, whose company afterward formed part of the l4th regiment of Arkansas Infantry. Capt. Mitchell marched his company back and forth-through the streets to the music of two violins in the hands of Dan Coker and “Yellville” Bill Coker who were members of the company. As the soldiers marched along with the colors flying at the head of the column, both officers and men extended invitations to the men present to enlist in their ranks. A number of those gallant young men responded to the call of their friends and fell in line to shed their blood for the sunny south. Most all of them gave up their lives on the battlefield or fell victims to exposure to the wintry weather and ravages of disease. In many cases their bones repose in unmarked graves. Oh let us not forget to honor their names by remembering their patriotism in a cause they believed was right.
I recollect a weeks stay at Yellville in war days. Our regiment the 27th of Arkansas with Colonels White and Shavers commands were on their way from Pokahontas to join General Tom C. Hindman’s division at the mouth of Mulberry River. We arrived at Yellville on Wednesday evening at 3 o’clock on the 22nd of October, 1862 and pitched our tents in a field on the opposite of the creek from town where we rested a week and procured supplies. This camp was known to us as Camp Adams.
On the day of our arrival here we found the town crowded with Missouri confederates who were drawing their pay in “Clabe Jackson money” and this sort of currency circulated plentiful among those warm hearted men. Their pay master occupied Isaac Wilsons hotel and this is where the soldiers were receiving their money. On the second night after we reached here a remarkable snowfall struck us, which lasted until Friday morning the 24th. The snow was 6 inches deep and is the greatest snowfall on record so early in the fall in North central Arkansas. It went off quickly however and the weather turned off bright and warm again. The majority of the men in our company lived in Marion County and the camp was always full of relatives and friends bringing sup-plies of needed woolen clothing from the home spinning wheels and hand looms.
DEATH OF TWO FEDERAL SOLDIERS WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SPIES
By S. C. Turnbo
“Among the killing of men on Jimmie’s Creek in Marion County, Arkansas, were two federal soldiers that were supposed to be spies, ” said Billy Parker. “I do not know who shot them but John Parker and Billy Keen discovered their dead bodies on the creek some two miles above where Kingdom Spring is now and carried them one at a time to where a large tree had been uprooted by a violent wind storm one half of a mile from where they were killed and both bodies were placed in the hole in the ground where the tree roots had come out of the ground and covered over with dirt, stones, and chunks of dead wood. The men had been killed on the creek near a country road and the place where they were buried was on the side of a hill.”
A SAD SCENE AT A BURIAL IN THE DUSK OF THE EVENING
By S. C. Turnbo
The dividing ridge between the breaks of Lower Turkey Creek on the north and the McVey hollow and Cedar Creek on the south is known as the Chainlink Mountains. The summit of these hills in places is narrow with sides steep and rough. As one passes along the crests of these hills low gaps and high mound like formations are seen. These Chainlink hills are timbered with black oak, post oak and blackjack interspersed with glades and bald points. At one spot the gap in the chain is quite low with scattering post oak trees and numerous flat rocks which show just above the surface of the ground, As we stand in this gap and face southward we have a view of the small valley of Cedar Creek which empties into Big Creek. Beyond this is the distant hills south of White River. To the right is a high hill covered with timber which is a part of the Chainlinks. To the left is a small spot of rough prairie which extends up to the timber that grows on another hill similar in shape to the one just refered to. To the north a short distance stands the noted Turkye Bald Knob. Further on is the hills of Turkey Creek and Little North Fork. There is a hollow that runs into Turkey Creek that was known to the early settlers as White River Hollow, which took its name from a trail that was made by the settlers in early times in passing from the settlements on Little North Fork to White River and from the latter stream to the former water course. The trail leads up this hollow and over this gap and down Cedar Creek to Big Creek and down this stream to the river. In the early days, the settlers used this pathway so frequently that it was kept beat out but at the present date it is but little used and is almost obliterated with time and lack of travel. At the present days there is a wagon way from Dugginsville to Lutie which leads up the slope of the hill ¼ mile west of this gap. Dugginsville is on Cedar Creek one mile south of here. The gap we refer to is in Ozark County, Missouri. Now let us go south of White River in Marion County, Arkansas. In a hollow that leads into Trimble Creek at the Bill Trimble place is a spring of water that runs out -of the ground at the base of a hill near the Charley Hodge place. This water is on the road leading from Peel to the mouth of Trimble Creek, This spring took its name from Allin Trimble who give it the name of “Mountain Spring” and was a great resort for men in war days. Now sets in our story. In the month of May, 1863, a number of southern men assembled at this spring to go on a raid into Ozark County. Their leader was Bill Cain who lived on Jimmie’s Creek. I am told that there were 30 men who were armed and equipped sufficiently to put up a good fight with the enemy of equal numbers. They were all mounted and when they were ready for the start they marched to the river and forded it and after passing Big Creek they struck through the rough hills and went to Pond Fork and across the ridge to North Fork and up this stream to the mouth of Little Creek. A company of mounted federals troops were temporarily stationed on Beaver Creek in Douglas County. These men were in charge of Capt. Bill Piland with Lieut. Bill Evans as second in command. It took only a few hours for the union soldiers to get word of the approach of the confederates and Piland hurried off with his men which were 26 in number to find out what the southern fellows were up to. After the Southerners had rode around a while on Little Creek they decided to go back to White River and traveled the most of the night. On reaching the ford of Little North Fork just above the mouth of Pond Fork they halted to rest before the break of day. After resting a while they resumed the march and traveled down the creek to the mouth of Turky Creek and turned and went up this stream to the Mud Spring. By this time the sun was an hour or more high. The morning was clear with a heavy dew. After leaving Turky Creek they followed the trail that leads up White River hollow to the gap in the Chainlinks that we mentioned at the beginning of this account. By this time the confederates were tired and their horses were jaded and hungry and they halted in the low gap to rest in the shade of the trees and let their horses graze. The officer in charge was careless and negligent and failed to post videts to be on the look out for the enemy. They were not expecting the enemy to overhaul them and would rest awhile and travel on at their leisure. But they all paid dearly for their idleness. The men turned their horses loose to fill themselves on the luxuriant growth of grass and they scattered in every direction. Part of the men lay down on the grass. Others rested at the foot of the trees. One man read a newspaper that had fell into their hands while on Little North Fork and some of the men were giving eager attention to the reading. They were loose in discipline or they would have been vigilant and watchful to the highest degree for the approach of the federals. They made a sad mistake in not doing this. In the meantime the company of union cavalry hurried to meet the southern fellows and when they reached Little Creek they found they were gone back to-ward White River by disappearing down North Fork and they made haste to pursue them. By some means the union men learned that the southern men had halted on the Creek to camp late in the night and they layed a trap for the unsuspecting Southerners, but they never caught them. When the federals had reached the mouth of Turkey Creek it was sunrise and the trail of the confederates were easily followed up Turkey Creek and up White River hollow on account of the heavy dew and the tracks the horses made. The officers in command of the squad of federals were cautious and kept two men in advance of them and when these two men approached in sight of the gap they heard the southern men laughing and talking. Carefully and cautiously they went a little closer where they got a glancing view of their position and condition without being observed. It was a grand moment to make a dash and charge and the two videts turned and went back to their command and made their report. Capt. Piland ordered his men to dismount and after making a detail of two or three men to look after the horses he advanced with the remainder of his men in a slow and cautious manner up the hollow a short distance, then leaving the trail and turned to the left and went on until they reached the glade in view of the confederates and halted and fired on them. We have said that the southern men were very negligent in their duty and we will say now that the federals were certainly wild with excitement. I am told that they fired 100 shots more or less from their guns and pistols without killing or wounding a man while the confederates were in the gap. With the exception of a hole shot in the top of Harve Yocum’s hat not a man was touched. When the volley was fired by the soldiers in blue it was a surprise to those in grey. The noise of the outburst of small arms and the whistling of the bullets that struck the rocks and ground near the men created a panic and a route. They left their guns and made a wild rush for safety. A few of the confederates made for their horses and succeeded in mounting them and went off on a wild race over the rough stony ground. I am told that John Copelin darted for his horse and got astride of him while the animal was trotting and galloped away under a heavy fire but not a ball touched him. This shows that the federals were as poor marksmen as the southern force were slack in being slipped up on. As the southern men scattered in their exciting rush to escape, the federals did likewise in pursueing them. Asa Yocum ran down the hill into the head of Cedar Creek pursued by the second officer in command of the federals. When Mr. Yocum had run 250 yards his strength was exhausted and he stopped under a post oak tree to surrender and handed the officer his pistol breech foremost which the man took and raised it and pointed the muzzle of the pistol at Yocum’s head and shot him just over the left eye. I am told that Mr. Yocum struggled in the agony of death a half an hour before his final moments come. The federals captured 19 head of horses with their equipments and a number of guns and pistols. They also captured 5 prisoners the names of which were Jim Friend, son of Peter Friend, John Carroll, son of Tom Carroll, Mike Yocum, son of Mike Yocum and brother of Asa Yocum, Bob Mitchell and Jerry Davis—the last named died in a northern prison.
Asa Yocum had a number of friends among the federals and when they found that he was killed they regretted it. I was told by a southern man that was with them at the time that while they were coming down North Fork below the mouth of Little Creek they stopped at the residence of Sam and Joe Piland. Joe was sick and was at home on furlough and in bed. Some of the southern men threatened to kill them both but Asa Yocum interfered and begged for their lives and they were not hurt. As usual in war when a man is killed by the enemy his body is left where it falls so it was in Mr. Yocum’s case. The body was left lying in the grass in the shade of the post oak tree *here he gave up his life. But some of the man were kind enough to tie a handkerchief to a limb of the post oak tree that hung over the body to direct the family and other friends where the body lay. The southern men did not know Mr. Yocum was killed and when some of the confederates who were running at the top of their speed heard the report of the pistol they knew it was Yocum’s but they supposed he had shot a, federal. But when the most of the retreating men had reached the river and their old friend had not made his appearance they were convinced that he was killed. On the following day after the Southerners were attacked, Harve Yocum, brother of Asa Yocum, Bob Davis, John Copelin and Tomps Copelin returned to the scene of the attack and made a search for him and Harve Yocum discovered the dead body of his brother lying under the bows of the post oak tree as mentioned. Yocum and Tomps Copelin remained with the body and Bob Davis and John Copelin went back to the Asa Yocum farm to notify Asa’s wife and children where the body was discovered and Mrs. Yocum dispatched a messenger with a blanket to put over the remains to shield them from the flys as much as possible. Mrs. Eliza Yocum, the bereaved woman, in company with Mrs. Nancy Yocum, widow of Bill Yocum, “Tine” Copelin, wife of John Copelin, and Winnie Copelin, wife of Tomps Copelin, and Jim Copelin, son of Tomps Copelin, and Lindie Friend, daughter of Peter Friend., and Paton Bevins started with a cart drawn by a yoke of cattle which were guided by Jim Copelin to bring the body of her dead husband home. It was a trying time. This awful war brought death and destruction in every direction where its influence reached and the poor women and children underwent sore trials, tearful eyes and despairing hearts, but it was war and they were forced to abide by its results. Mr. Yocum was shot near 9 o’clock in the morning and his body was found near 24 hours after his death and by the time they arrived on the scene of death with the oxcart it was in an advanced state of decomposition and very difficult to handle. They taken the body down Cedar Creek to its mouth then down Big Creek to the river where they crossed it at the Poll Clark ford and arrived at home with the body at sunset. They were unable to take off the bloody clothes and put on better ones or take his boots even but were compelled to bury the remains as they were brought home. A grave had been dug and a rough coffin had been prepared. The scene of the burial in the dusk of the evening as the dead man’s wife and children and other friends as they collected around the coffin to pay their last respects to the dead here on earth was weired, tearful and piteous. The body received interment in the cemetery near the dead man’s residence. One beautiful day in September as I stood in the low gap where the encounter took place between the two war parties I thought of the dark shadow that enveloped the hills and valleys of Ozark County at that time and I thanked God that the days of blood and death of Civil War is gone and God grant that it may be gone forever and that ties of friend-ship and love between the people of both sections of our great United States may grow closer together as time passes on.
CHASED BY THE ENEMY
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. W. F. Stone of near Protem, Missouri, an old pioneer settler of Maries County, Missouri, and who was a member of Co. F. 10th Mo. (confederate) Infantry, furnished the writer this sketch.
“In the early part of 1862 I had went with part of our command into the state of Arkansas from where I was sent back into Missouri to organize a company of Southern men. I recollect that on my way back I passed through Yellville in Marion County and crossed White River at Tolbert’s Ferry and crossed Big North Fork east of where Mountain Home in Baxter County now stands. I was horseback and passed through the mountains as fast as my horse was able to travel. I was not molested by anyone until I got into Howell County, Missouri, and one day when near 15 miles northwest of West Plains I noticed a horseman north of where I was coming toward me as fast as his horse could run. The country was open and I could see objects a long distance. When the man had approached closer to me I stopped for I was pretty well convinced that he was not running his horse for the fun that was in it. When he got up still nearer me I could see that he was whipping and spurring his tired horse to urge him along at his best speed but I was not able to discern anything in his rear that he should be afraid of. As the fast fleeing horseman galloped up to me he slowed up a little and yelled out,, “Unless I am not mistaken you had better be going the other way.” “What is the matter?” says I. “Look back yonder and you will receive your answer, “said he, and I looked and behold a mounted war party had hove in sight which I took to be a squad of federal cavalry which had just come into view. They were in pursuit of the lone horseman and were a mile behind him. I had on a suit of citizens clothes and did not resemble a soldier, but the moment I caught sight of the men in blue I did not ask anymore questions and reined my horse around quickly and galloped my horse over the way I had come. My horse was not as tired as my newly made friend’s horse was and I was soon in the advance of him. We did not halt a moment to converse but talked as our horses went galloping over the road. We went along as fast as our steeds could move along. We kept together 12 miles before we separated which we did in 3 miles of West Plains. When I turned to the right and traveled over the same road I had come over on my way out of Arkansas. The man informed me as we were speeding along that he was a preacher and that he was a southern sympathizer and lived in the north part of Howell County. He said that his decision in favor of the southern people was all that his enemies could justly hold against him, land they want to arrest and probably kill me and I do not want to fall into their hands, and this explains why I am trying to get away from them, said he. Though this was the longest and hardest and fastest horseback ride I ever experienced in those turbulent days of war to escape the hands of an enemy, but I sometimes think now that the federals did not intend to kill the old mad and would have soon gave up the chase and turned back but on observing another man fall in with the old fellow I think they concluded to continue the pursuit of us just to see us run. If that was the case they certainly enjoyed themselves watching us getting over the road in a hurried manner. My horse was almost give out when we separated. We had passed out of view of the enemy just before we parted but this did not lessen my fears and I urged my jaded horse along to get further away. I did not see the federals any more, but I went on until I found a suitable place to conceal myself and horse where we got a breathing spell, and then I traveled on and did not stop for good until I reached the residence of Jim Young who lived in the Tolbert Barrens in Baxter County, Arkansas, where I stopped a few days to let my horse rest and made my way back up north to Maries County, Missouri, where I raised a company of men for the south.”
A HAIR BREADTHS ESCAPE FROM PRISON
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. Henry Sanders, a pioneer settler of Ozark County, Missouri, informed the writer that one day during the war the old man Ball and two of his sons of which the given name of the elder son was Gid was captured in Howell County, Missouri, 9 miles from West Plains by General James H. McBride’s men who tried to force Mr. Ball and his sons to enlist in the southern army. They refused to join giving as a reason that they were union men and did not want to oppose the old constitution of the United States government. This bold declaration enraged the southerners and knowing it was useless to use further persuasion they taken them to Little Rock, Arkansas, where they were confined at hard labor in the state prison there. The prison officials put balls and chains on their ankles which they were compelled to wear while they worked during the day and while they slept at night. They were put to work in a blacksmith shop of which the old man Ball was an expert in that line. They were closely guarded all the time and kept at work continually in daytime and as mentioned would not permit them to go without their manacles until finally the officers of the prison knowing that the southern army needed all the men they could enlist decided that it was impossible for Ball and his sons to escape and sent away some of the guards to the army and the remaining ones grew less vigilant which give the prisoners a chance one night to make an effort to regain their liberty and put the effort into effect in the following manner. They cut the chains off at the shackles which they left on their legs. They were not able to cut these off without wounding their ankles. Then they tore their blankets into narrow strips and twisted them into ropes and attached a ball and chain that they had just taken off of one of their ankles and crept to the stone wall which was 15 feet high and held the end of the rope and threw the other end of the rope that the ball and chain was tied to over the stone wall and with the assistance of his two sons Mr. Ball managed to climb to the top of the wall. Then he pulled one of the boys to the top by the rope and then they both pulled the other one up. They were now all three on the prison wall and had escaped discovery so far. They would certainly be detected before they carried their plans much further. If the guards had been as numerous and watchful as they had been they would have been caught in taking the chains off. There was no time for a breathing spell. They were greatly encouraged and must continue their efforts to free themselves from unwelcome place. The old man now pulled the ball and chain up to the top and let It down on the inside of the prison, the weight of which would aid them to descend to the outside. The old man went down first while the boys held at the rope. Then one of the boys held the rope and let his brother down. Father and son looked around in the dark and found a long piece of scantling which they reached up high enough for the son and brother to reach with his feet after he swung over the edge of the stone wall, and he held to the rope while they braced the piece of timber against the bottom of his feet and gradually and carefully let him down to the ground. They were free now but in the heart of the enemies country and if they were caught they would be put to death. They crept away from the wall and made haste as they got farther off and traveled as far up the Arkansas River as they could before daylight, then followed the shore up the river until they found a way to cross over to the north side. They used great caution by avoiding the public roads and dwelling houses until the pangs of hunger forced them to enter a house and obtain food. After experiencing great labor and difficulties and narrow risks of being captured they finally made their way into Missouri and went on to Rolla where they had their shackles taken off and after resting awhile to recruit their health and recover from the effects of their prison life and their terrible journey from Little Rock, they enlisted in the federal army and Gid Ball was elected 2nd Lieutenant in Capt. Robbin’s company in Col. Wommath’s regiment.”
A COMPANY OF MOUNTED MEN ENJOY A LIVELY TIME WITH A
HERD OF DEER IN WAR TIMES
By S. C. Turnbo
Meeting something in war times was not so monotonous to the soldiers. Mr. Steve Friend, son of Peter Friend, informed me that one day during the latter part of the war between the states while he was serving in Capt. William Piland’s company of union men they met a herd of 40 deer on the right hand prong of Big Creek. This was in 1864. We were riding along in 200 yards of the deer when we first noticed them and the men were so elated at the sight of them that for the time they forgot they were soldiers and their minds reverted back to the time when peace reigned among the inhabitants of the Ozarks and they had tramped the woods in search of game. The Capt. told the men not to shoot at the deer for things were too equally and ammunition was too scarce to waste it in shooting at game. But the men disobeyed him. The entire company cheered the deer and more than 60 men broke ranks and shot at the deer without bringing down a single one. As the fast fleeing animals were getting away the officers did all they could to prevent the boys pursuing them. But their efforts were all in vain, for the majority of the men spurred their horses and urged them by other means forward in following the deer a few hundred yards and yelling like Indian warriors. The frightened deer retreated as fast as their legs could carry them. When the deer passed from view the soldiers returned and took their respective places in ranks and marched on laughing and talking about their sport with the herd of deer.”
GUIDING FIVE SOUTHERN MEN TO SAFETY AFTER NIGHT
By S. C. Turnbo
The following war story was given me by Mr. Isaac Fleetwood, an early pioneer of southern Missouri, who when I interviewed him lived 5 miles west of Clarksville, Indian Territory. At the time of the breaking out of the war Mr. Fleetwood was living with his uncle Isaac Fleetwood 4 miles above old Rock Bridge on Bryants Fork in Douglas County, Missouri. He was a union man and enlisted in the federal army, “But a few months before I was sworn into the service I piloted five southern men to where they were enabled to find their way to safety. I did what I agreed to do and have never regretted it. How it come about for me to lead these men to where they could find a more secure place to prolong their lives was in this way:
“One night in the early part of the war a party of men rode up to the yard gate at my uncle Isaac Fleetwood’s and hallooed Hello. As it was war times it was dangerous to go out of the house to a man after night unless you knew he was a friend, but uncle went to the door and ask what was wanted. They said they were bewildered and that they were strangers in that part of Missouri and that it was so dark they could not find their way. My uncle now went out to the gate where the men were and talked with them. They informed my uncle that they were southern men and lived in Green County, part of which resided in Springfield. They said they were trying to make their way into the confederate lines. At this my uncle ask them their names and they told him. I cannot call to mind now all of their names but two of them were John Price and Billy Kelby. When they told my uncle their names he seemed to have much confidence in them for he knew them from character. There were 5 of them and they told my uncle that they wanted to go south for protection and was lost and were afraid to venture any further without a guide. They said they did not know who to trust but decided that it was more prudent to risk someone to pilot them a few miles if they could find anyone that would be willing to do so, for without a guide they might fall into the hands of the enemy. At that time Capt. Billy Rutherford’s company which was after-ward commanded by Capt. William Piland was camped on Bryants Spring Creek near the Billy James farm. After my uncle had conversed with them awhile and being satisfied they were all honest and upright men he ask me if I was willing to take them to Brickseys Creek which runs into Bryants Fork below the village of New Rock Bridge. This stream was named for Croff Bricksey an old settler who lived on it many years previous to this. I informed my uncle that I was willing to go with the men and show them the way to the water course he had designated, and my uncle says, “Now men, You must not reveal this to no one while the war lasts. If you do and it gets to the ears of certain parties in this locality they will kill both my nephew and myself,” and all five of the men gave their promise of good faith and I caught my horse and after putting the saddle on him I mounted him and told the men I was ready and we started. The night was very dark, road narrow and rough, but I was well acquainted with the country and did not stand In dread of losing my way. I and those southern fellows rode on in darkness and silence. I was watchful and careful to guide the men safe from their enemy. It was late in the night when they came to my uncle’s house and when we reached the point on Brickseys Creek where I was to take them the chickens were crowing for day. I knew very well that I must not be caught out from home especially in night time and it was dangerous to be out from home in day time too unless I could render a proper escuse. After we had stopped I gave them directions how to find the way to the inside of their own lines and wishing them a safe journey I bid them adieu and reined my horse around to return back home when they requested me to wait a few minutes. I did not know what they meant but I halted my horse and waited and I soon heard the jingle of money and one of the men handed me three silver dollars which they said was a small recompense for my trouble then they thanked me and we separated. I got back home without meeting anyone. I and my uncle did not mention this until after the close of the war and as I said awhile ago I never was a bit sorry that I aided these men to get to their friends. I never heard of them any more until several years after those angry times when I met Mr. Price and we enjoyed a prolonged talk together about war times and we did not forget to mention that long rough ride that night to Brickseys Creek.
HE SAVED HIS LIFE BY FEIGNING DEATH
By S. C. Turnbo
This account how the presence of mind of a man in war times saved his life was related to me on the 30th of November 1905 by Mrs. Margarette Griffin, wife of Wilse Griffin. Mrs. Griffin is a sister of Jim Rhodes who lives on Mountain Creek in Marion County, Arkansas. In narrating the story she said, “I was born in Knox County, Tennessee, May 7. 1850. I come with my parents to Webster County, Missouri, in the early part of 1861. I recollect that one day during the follow year after our arrival here a scouting party of soldiers passed through our neighborhood where we lived in Webster County 8 miles south of Marshfield. As the war party rode along they discovered Tobe Hinkle, a cousin of mine, and a man of the name of Shipman together. The two men were afoot and when they caught sight of the armed body of men they started to run and the soldiers pursued on their horses and soon got within gunshot range when they began firing on the two fleeing men and Hinkle dropped to the ground at the first volley. The war party thinking the man was dead galloped on by where Hinkle lay in pursuit of Shipman. It seems that this man had temporarily escaped them for they all went out of hearing and they had passed beyond our view. Mr. Hinkle who was only feigning death rose to his feet made haste to a hiding place for he was afraid the enemy might return and examine the dead to see if there were enough life left to revive. He had not been touched by a bullet. Nothing more was heard of Shipman until several weeks afterward when his remains were found by two hunters that were out in the wood searching for game. The time of this incident occurred in the middle of the winter and the weather was cold and the body was rigid and frozen. But it had lain so long in the weather that his clothes were nearly all rotten and the birds had picked his eyes out and the buzzards and wild animals had devoured part of the body. The two hunters had not been personally acquainted with Shipman but they were convinced from descriptions of the man that these were his remains and without further investigation they went to Marshfield and reported their find to the authorities there. The officer of the Civil law impaneled a jury for the purpose of holding an Inquest over the remains and they went to where the remains had lain so long in the woods. Mrs. Shipman, the widow of the dead man, accompanied the men and his identity was established without a doubt. Mrs. Shipman recognized the clothing of the dead man as that of her husbands that he wore the day he disappeared and by a cripple hand. The remains were taken from their resting place and enclosed in a coffin and taken to Marshfield and buried there.
“Tobe Hinkle the man that pretended to his enemy that they had shot and killed him and thus saving his life was a son of Jesse and Hannah Hinkle, who lived in ½ mile of my fathers house when this occurred. After Tobe Hinkle had escaped so miraculously with his life he joined the federal army and was shot through the palm of the hand one while his command was engaged in battle with a southern force.”
HOW A WOMAN PUT TWO ROBBERS TO FLIGHT
By S. C. Turnbo
The writer has mentioned the Bull Bottom in these sketches on several occasions. As is well known in Marion County, Arkansas, this bottom is situated on the left bank of White River in Cedar Creek township. I am informed that George Weaver made the first settlement here. Weaver sold the improvements on this land to old man John Terry, the first settler on the Asa Yocum place and Mr. Terry gave the improvements to his eons Tom and Ron Terry. After Tom Terry’s wife died and Wilshire Magness died Mr. Terry and Wilshire’s widow were married in 1860 and lived in this bottom until the ravages of cruel war forced them to abandon their home here. When Mr. Terry enlisted in the union army his wife whose name was Elizabeth was left alone with the children to contend against the hardships, theives and robbers. There were 6 children, Joe Magness and Bob Magness, children by her first man Wilshire Magness, and Joe Terry, Dump Terry and Mary Terry, which were Tom Terry’s children by Mr. Terry’s first wife who was a sister to Wilshire Magness, and Tom Terry an off spring of the marriage between Mr. Terry and Mrs. Magness, the latter child was 6 months old. Mr. Terry’s wife in describing the hardships she encountered in this bottom while her and the children were staying there alone said that one day two men who were horseback and well armed approached the house and rode up to the yard gate and stopped and demanded to know if she knew where any rebels were. She told them that she did not know anything about them. After they had repeated the inquiry a few times they reversed the questions put to her and they wanted to know if she knew where any feds were and she answered in the negative. They were very inquisitive and continued to ask her questions until they found that they could not obtain any information from her. They then backed their horses from the gate and reining them around as if they were going to ride off and stopped and held a whispered conversation and then they started off down to-ward the lower part of the bottom. I was convinced that they had gone off to procure help to rob the house and drive off the stock, I and Mr. Terry owned more than 100 head of cattle which Terry kept on the range in the hills of Music Creek, This was just after we were married, but in 1862 the land pirates taken all but a few of them and disposed of them. Mr. Isaiah Wilkerson who lived on Music Creek just above the mouth noticing that the principal part of the cattle had been stole he gathered up the remainder which included a few milk cows and drove them across the river where we could find them. The cows were giving milk and the milk from the cows kept the children from starving. After the two men had left I went to work with a determination to save my stuff in the house and my milk cows if I had to fight for the property and with the help of the children that was old enough to do anything I went to work and carried all our household stuff into the house that had only one door. I forgot to mention that there were two houses with a hall between them. Then I armed myself and the oldest children with something to fight with such as the chopping axe, hatchet, butcher knives, clubs and so on. Then I and the children sit down and waited for the return of the bandits and in a little while I saw the same two men coming back driving the milk cows before them. I saw at once that it was their intention to steal all we had and I says, “Children, let us not let them scoundrels have an easy job taking our stuff from us.” When they had reached near the cow lot gate with the cattle the calves began to bleat and the children began to cry for the little innocent and helpless children depended on the cows for a living and when they realized that the robbers intended to take the cattle from us we would all have to meet starvation and distress. My heart seemed to sink in despair for I knew they had the power to drive them off but I had set a resolution that I would fight to the last moment to save the cows and my household. But what could I do to help myself, they would take all we had in spite of all the efforts I could do to prevent it. The robbers were preparing to let the calves out to the cows to make ready to drive them off and about the moment I was ready to interfere with their theivish plans a thought come into my mind that I might get rid of them before they had time to ride roughshod over me and the children and I put it into execution at once by snatching the dinner horn from where it was hanging on the wall in the hallway and blew a loud blast with it, then stopped a moment and blew it a second time and then I hallooed at the top of my voice and used these words, “Here they are, come quick.” Then I repeated the blowing of the horn and yelled out the same words. The two marauders seemed to be awfully surprised and remounted their horses and urging them into a gallop and run to the river bank and down it to the waters edge and plunged into the river and swam across to the opposite shore and up the bank they went beyond my view. As they were getting away I blew the horn and kept repeating the same words as loud as the strength of my lungs would admit. I had succeeded in bluffing them and saving my property from the rascals so far. No doubt they were fully convinced that a body of federal soldiers were nearby ready to pounce on them. I learned afterward that these men never stopped until they reached the John Knight cabin in the range of the Short Mountain which was used as a gathering place of a number of southern men in war days. In a short time after this I moved out into Missouri where I received better protection from the unwelcome bandits and guerrillas. Mrs. Elizabeth Terry, who after the death of Mr. Terry, married Henry Clark, died at her old home in the southeast part of Taney County, Missouri, February 13, 1907, and was buried in the graveyard at Protem on the following day.
A BRAVE WOMAN SAVES THE LIFE OF HER HUSBAND
By S. C. Turnbo
Pruitt post office in Boone County, Arkansas, is at the old Burlington stand 8 miles south of Omaha, on the Spring-field and Harrison wagon road. Omaha is near where the White River branch of the Mo. Pacific railroad passes through the tunnel. Mr. J. D. Row, a former resident of Pruitt, gives the following wartime incident to the writer in a letter dated at Pruitt on the 9 day of July, 1903.
“My fathers name was Jacob J. Row. My mothers maiden name was Julia A. Winters. Both of them were born and raised in Harrison County, Indiana, and were married in the same neighborhood where they were reared. After their marriage they moved into Boone County in the same state where they remained until the fall of 1857 when they left their native state and started west of the father of waters and settled in St. Clair County, Missouri. At the breaking out of the war my father sympathized with the union but did not wise to take up arms, but this did not prevent him from falling a victim from the hands of the guerrillas which occurred in the spring of 1862. At the time of his death he was several miles from home on the Osage River. He was killed with two other men who were our neighbors and were all three in a skift when they were discovered by the bushwhacker and shot to death.
Going on with the wartime story, Mr. Row said in his letter, “I remember a case in southern Missouri that come under my personal observation., though I was but ten years old. It was in 1861. Mr. Richard Worst had expressed his sentiments most too freely in favor of the union, and someone thought they would be doing their country a service to send him to his last long home by the shotgun route. One night near 9 o’clock, this brave patriot crept up to Mr. Worst’s house, shotgun in hand, and concealed himself In the chimney corner, Mrs. Worst had already retired and Richard was arranging the fire to keep overnight. All at once he heard a peculiar noise outside the house by the side of the fire place. He finished arranging the fire, went to bed and ask his wife if she had any idea what was making that noise in the chimney corner. She raised up on her elbow and listened, and said she expected it was a cow that had jumped into the yard and was licking at the soap barrel. He said he would go and drive her away and started for the door. Mrs. Worst jumped out of bed, grabbed hold of his arm and stopped him and said. “No you won’t go out there. I’ll go myself.” So out she went, dressed in a long white night robe, and as she stepped around the corner of the house, she saw a gun with its muzzle near her breast and a man holding it by the breech. They both stood still an instant, when the man withdrew the gun, started to run, leaped over the yard fence and disappeared in the darkness. I have heard Mrs. Worst say repeatedly that she had no other idea than that it was a cow licking, until her husband said he would go out and turn her out, when the thought flew through her mind that it was a man there to kill him. She instantly made up her mind she would face him and die if need be to save her husband. The next evening at dusk Mr. Worst thought it would be safe for him to go outside the yard fence near fifty yards and bring in a couple of sticks of wood. He put one stock on his shoulder and the other under his arm and started to the house. When nearly to the yard fence a bullet struck the stick of wood on his shoulder and at the same time he heard the report of a gun in the timber behind. Mrs. Worst was standing in the door fearful that her husband would be shot down and I afterwards her say that when the gun fired, she was almost frightened to death but she remembered that Richard was not long in dropping the sticks of wood and in jumping the fence and was in the house before she hardly had time to move out of his way. He never stopped in the house, but telling his faithful wife goodby, he shot out of the house at the opposite door, and soon disappeared, bareheaded, into a cornfield back of the house. She never saw him for many days afterward, and when she did see him he was with a company of soldiers. This happened in St. Clair County and they soon afterward made their way into the state of Ohio where they could lay down in peace and not be shot at while carrying wood into the house.”
THE SCOUNDRELS WERE BAFFLED
By S. C. Turnbo
One of the earliest settlers on Big Creek was Robert Casebolt. He settled on school land on the west side of the creek in Ozark County, Missouri. A fine spring of water run our of the hill 150 yards north of the house. He built a small hut for temporary use until he could build a better house which was 18 feet square. Then he added another house 16 by 18 feet 10 feet south of the first house (not the hut) with a hall between and made a porch on the west side of the last house built. Both buildings were constructed out of loge. Mr. Casebolt was born in the state of Tennessee in 1811. His wife was named Jemima and was a daughter of Matthew and Lucinda Sims and was born in the state of Indiana in 1815. Her parents emigrated to Green County, Missouri, when she was a little child and there was scarcely a settlement in that part of Missouri. Mr. Sims and his family camped a few days on the ground where a part of the old town of Springfield now stands. There was not an improvement of any sort there then and was the home of the deer and wild Turkey. Robert went from Tennessee to Green County later where as time went on he met his future wife, Miss Jemima Sims, on Sac River, a tributary of the Osage, and they were married on this stream in the early thirties. They lived in Missouri until in 1836 when they moved in Marion County, Arkansas, and lived on White River. They settled the bottom just below Bull Bottom which was afterward known as the John Terry place. Mr. Casebolt brought a fine yoke of steers with him and during the following winter after his arrival here while he and wife were clearing some land in the bottom a hack-berry tree fell on one of the oxen and killed it. After leaving this bottom they settled on Big Creek where they made their home until after the commencement of the Civil War. The following are the names of some of the settlers who lived on the lower part of Big Creek from the time Mr. Casebolt went to Big Creek until the outbreak of the war.
Bert McAfee lived on what is now the Sam Holett place. Charley Smith lived on the upper part of the Pate Druggins place. Bery Morris lived on the opposite side of the creek from Smiths. Martin Johnson lived awhile on the Smith place. Jim McVey lived on what is now the Aaron Quick place. Lewis Ramsey lived there after McVey left. Ramsey had three sons named John., Walter, and Ebb and a daughter named Mahala. Billy Howard and his two sons, Bill and Doss, settled the lower Aaron Quick farm. Mat Magness and his two brothers, Bob and Teaf, lived on what is now the Fately land. Mat Magness married Huldah Milum, daughter of Bleuf Milum. Teaf married her sister, Sarah Ann Milum. Bob married Miss Susan Lantz, daughter of Mose Lantz. Wilshire Magness, a brother of the other Magness boys, lived at the mouth of Little Cedar Creek on what is now the Steve Copelin land. Wilshire married Miss Nancy Elizabeth Holt, daughter of Billy Holt. Flemmon Clark and Peggie Clark, his wife, lived at the mouth of the creek. Ben Clark, son of Flemmon, lived on White River Just below his fathers place. Jack Smith, a son-in-law of Flemmon Clarks, lived on the creek a short distance above the mouth.
Mr. Casebolt and his wife reared a large family. The names of part of the children are as follows. Christiana, their eldest., was born on Sac River. Lucinda, their next eldest, was also born there. Jemima was the next oldest. She married Elisha Friend, son of Peter Friend. Mary Janes their next oldest. was born in 1840. She married Bill Trimble, son of Allin Trimble. Robert was born in 1841. This child was 11 months old when his parents moved to Big Creek. Serena,, Becca Ann, James F. and Sarah were born on Big Creek. Serena married Steve Friend, another son of Peter Friend, When Serena died Steve married her sister, Christiana. Sarah married Win Yocum, son of Asa Yocum. Jemima and Serena both lie buried in the Asa Yocum graveyard. Lucinda and Becoa Ann died on the old Tom Brown farm just below the mouth of Trimbles Creek and as we have said elsewhere their bodies rest in the Trimble graveyard. James F. married Hollis daughter of Bob Hollis.
As we have already said., Mr. Casebolt and his family were true Southerners, fearless and met all kinds of hardships and done their duty without wavering. Casebolt was captain of a small company of men a few months in 1962. The entire family suffered from the depredations of theives during the war and they found it necessary to conceal as much of their provision and other things that were useful as could be done. Among the last named was an ox cart, the wheels of which were banded with heavy iron tire and Mrs. Caigebolt and her daughters pulled and pushed the cart to the top of the hill west of the house and hid it in a thicket of brush. By some means word got out where the cart was concealed and its whereabouts was soon known over the neighborhood. One day three men rode up to the yard gate and stopped. Two of them dismounted and ,vent into the house to plunder and select articles of the household to carry off. The other man rode on up the hill toward where the cart was hid and in a few minutes Mrs. Case-bolt and her daughters heard him pounding on the wheels to get the tire off and Mrs. Casebolt remarked, “If that scoundrel ain’t found the cart and is knocking the tire off; two of you girls go with me and we’ll go see about it. And Jane and Lucinda stepped forward to go with her. Then turning to the other children she says, “The rest of you stay here and keep them other two rascals from stealing what is In the house.” But as Mrs. Casebolt and the two girls left the house the two men walked out of the house and mounted their horses and rode on by the women and hurried up the hill to where their comrade was at work on the cart, and the three women when they reached the spot where the cart was the three men were there. The man had one tire off and had given it to one of the men on horseback and he was holding it. One of the girls told him to give it up but he refused to do so. “I will take it away from you,” said she, and she took hold of it and attempted to pull it away from him. But he held to it and the other girl went to her aid and with their combined strength they jerked the tire away from him which came near pulling him off of his horse. The scene was exciting and degrading to the men for they cursed and abused the women and the latter called them theives and robbers. The man on the ground tried to get the tire off of the other wheel and Mr. Casebolt ordered him to quit and let the tire alone but he cursed her and went on trying to take it off. Then she snatched up a rock and threatened to knock him down with it but this did not daunt him. At this moment he got the tire off and it fell to the ground. But as he stooped over to pick up the tire the women snatched it up and hung both the tires on one of the standards of the cart, and Mrs. Casebolt says, “Girls, let us take the cart to the house, and the two girls darted to the end of the tongue and raised it and pulled it along while their mother walked just behind the cart to guard the tire. While they were taking the cart and tire down the hill and Into the house yard the men followed them on their horses and abused the women in a scandalous manner and threatened to burn their house. When the women had pulled and pushed the cart into the yard the three men halted at the yard fence and went on their abuse in such a rough way and swearing that they were going to burn the house until Mrs. Casebolt determined she would not bear it any longer and she snatched up a stout club of wood and Jane picked up the chopping axe. Mrs. Casebolt says, ‘the first man that dismounts from his horse I will kill him.” and Jane says, ‘the first man that crosses the fence into the yard I will chop him to pieces with this ax.” The men now used the vilest language they could command with their tongues but they dared not get off their horses. They were baffled, Directly two of them rode off, but the other man swore he was not ready to go until he burned the house. Mrs. Casebolt says to him “If you do not leave here at once your dead body will be found in a hole of water in Big Creek,” and the scoundrel finding that he was outdone by the brave and honest women who were defending their home started off and followed on after his companions. The land on which the Casebolts lived is known now as the Ben Quick farm. James Casebolt, a nephew of Robert Casebolt, settled the Ed Quick farm, which is just below there. Jake Casebolt, a brother of Roberts,, lived on the Gasconade River in Pulaski County, Missouri. John Casebolt, another brother, lived on Finley Creek 6 miles northeast of Sparta in Christian County. The most of the fore-going account was furnished me by James F. Casebolt, youngest son of Robert Casebolt.
SHOT DOWN IN THE PRESENCE OF HIS DAUGHTER
By S. C. Turnbo
One of the horrible murders that was committed in Civil War times in what is now Boone County, Arkansas, is the following which was dictated for the use of the writer by Mr. Isaac Milum to W. L. Ridinger and Mr. Ridinger forwarded the same to me by letter at Protem, Taney County, Missouri, January 21, 1895. Mr. Milum said that in the year 1863 Jake Baughman who lived 6 miles northeast of Bellfonte was attacked one night by a robber and after he had broke the door down and entered the house he demanded a sum of money from Baughman. It was late in the night and Mr. Baughman had retired to bed. He and one of his daughters were living there alone. When the bandit got to the door and began pounding on the door shutter for admittance Mr. Baughman and his daughter leaped from their beds and snatched up an ax each that they kept In the house of nights and attempted to defend themselves when the mans partner in crime who had remained on the outside shot Mr. Baughman through the window. The ball taking effect near the right nipple from he died on the second day following the night he was shot. The murderers left the house at once.
KILLED ON HIS PORCH
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. Isaac Milum, a long resident on Crooked Creek and who is dead now, dictated the following to W. L. Ridinger and the latter sent the account to the writer in a letter at Protem, Missouri, which was received on the 31 of January, 1895. “Elias Willbright lived in the center of Bakers Prairie just north of where Harrison,, Boone County, Arkansas, now is. One day in 1863 Mr. Willbright was called out on his porch by a mounted man who was well armed who after giving him a severe abuse while holding a pistol in his hand, then the blood thirsty man leveled his pistol at Willbright and shot him down in the presence of his family. These horrible murders were very common in the northwest part of Arkansas during the war between the states, “said Mr. Milum.
SHOT DOWN ON THE PORCH
By S. C. Turnbo
One day in the year 1895 Mr. W. L. Ridinger who lives near Harrison, Arkansas, gathered the following sad account from Mr. Isaac Milum, an early resident of Crooked Creek. Mr. Ridinger sent the story to me in a letter to my address when I lived near Protem, Taney County, Missouri. The letter read thus, “Mr. Milum related to me how James Deshazzo who lived one mile and a half east of where the town of Harrison now is. When the Civil War was at great heat or in 1863 a bunch of bandits rode up to Deshazzo’s yard fence one night and after dismounting they called to Deshazzo to come out and give them directions how to go to a certain place for they had become bewildered in the dark and did not know where they were. Though they had not called his name but he believed they were telling the truth and the unsuspecting man went out at the door onto the porch to direct the pretenders how to got when they shot him down by the light of the fire that was in the fireplace. The unfortunate man never spoke after he fell.”
TORTURE AND DEATH
By S. C. Turnbo
An old timer of Boone County, Arkansas, is Hiram Harden, son of Thomas Presley Harden and Manervia (Starky) Harden. He was born one mile east of Bellfonte, May 27, 1853. His father and mother were born and reared in Jiles County, Tennessee, and were married there and came to the vicinity of where Bellfonte is now in the year 1846. “My grandfather and grandmother, William Harden and Agness Harden, came with my parents to Arkansas. My father died many years ago and was buried on the old homestead one mile east of where Bellfonte now is. My mother died In 1886 and her body received interment in a graveyard near Russellville, Arkansas. In reference to the early settlers of that part of Boone County at Bellfonte and neighborhood Mr. Harden gives the names of the following men that he said lived there from the time he could first remember until the days of the war set it. “The early dave settlers were very scattering. There were Matthew Bristow, who served one term as County Judge; Salem Hudson, who was a brother of the man that the panther attacked in the Buffalo Mountains. This man Salem Hudson was a son-in-law of Mr. Bristow. Mrs. Nancy Starky lived near Hurraw Creek 8 miles below Bellfonte. Tom Bones lived northeast of Bellfonte. William Smith lived near Bellfonte. And Jim Carroll, John Poplin and Billy Smart were all old time people in that locality. Mose and Sam Holmes who were brothers were also pioneer settlers there. John Roberts and his brother, Andrew, lived several miles east of Bellfonte and the Judge Bristow farm was 1 ½ miles east and my grandfather William Harden lived one half of a mile west of the Bristow place. William Harden, my grandfather, owned a great deal of land and commanded a sum of money. When the war broke out he had $1500 in gold and silver. He also had a large amount in promissory notes, the most of which were on responsible men. Soon after the great Civil War got in headway the marauders made a few attempts to secure his money, but their onslaughts were ineffectual as far as his money was concerned. They hung him twice by the neck until he was almost dead to force him to reveal his treasury to them but he constantly refused to tell where it was hidden. As the war went on his dwelling was burned down and he moved into the Judge Bristow residence. One night shortly after he moved here the robbers paid him another visit to do their worst. My youngest brother, Stoke Harden, who was 12 years old was living with them. In the afternoon previous to this night my grandfather had went out into the woods alone and taken up his money where he had buried it and concealed it in another Place. Grandmother said that after they all had retired grandfather said to her, “Agnes, I have put my money in a new place; I will tell you where it is tomorrow.” At this moment grandfather noticed the face of a man against the glass window peeping through the glass into the house. Grandfather called grandmother’s attention to it immediately and they both rose out of bed at once for the old couple were convinced that the man was a theif and robber and that there were more of them nearby. Before they had time to put on their clothes another man knocked the door in and the one that was at the window run around to the door and both men come into the house. Whether there were anymore men outside of the house it is not known. Only two come into the house. One of them was disguised for his face was painted black. This man carried a pearl handle pistol. My brother said he recognized the pistol. The entrance of the two robbers into the house created confusion. They swore they would make grandfather tell where his money was or they would finish his life right then and there. My old grandsire replied “You scoundrels cannot compel me to divulge its whereabouts.” It was now that both men lay hands on him in a violent manner and threw him down on the floor. He was old and feeble and made but little resistence. When they had hurled him to the floor one of the men got on his breast and held him down. At this moment my little brother leaped out of bed and says to the one that had his face painted, “Garl Wilbern, what did you come to kill my grandfather for.” The pistol refered to had formerly belonged to Hickory Starky and Wilbern had got in possession of it. Neither one of the men made any reply to the remarks of my brother. While the scuffle and confusion was going on my grandmother hallooed as loud as she could to give the alarm to anyone in hearing distance and the bushwhackers told her if she repeated it they would shoot her down. She now turned around and made a start as if to got out of the house and one of the men struck her a hard blow on the head with a pistol which felled her to the floor where she lay stunned for a few moments. After she revived she rose to her feet and ran out of the house and started for Sam Vanzants. In the meantime the boy Tom Jones was so wrought up with fear that he was making a loud racket. And the two men ordered him to lie still and hide his face with a quilt or they would blow his head off. The frightened lad obeyed without further warning. It was now that the demons began their awful crime of torture and while one of the brutes sit on the poor old man’s body to hold him on the floor and with his feet tied fast together the other man shoved his feet up in a few inches of the fire, where they were held a short time. Then they pushed his body closer to the fire and put his naked feet in among the live coals and hot ashes. His suffering was terrible but he bore it and not a word he said concerning the hiding place of his money. In the great agony of pain and anguish he clutched the hot dog irons with his hands to make an effort to move away from the fire and when he let go them piece of skin was jerked off the pan of his hands and fingers and stuck to the irons. The horrible torture was kept up a few minutes when the cut throats ceased their brutal work and made him rise to his feet. But his feet was so badly burned that he was hardly able to stand. The robbers were expecting to see some of the old man’s friends to come to his relief and they decided to get away at once and they informed the helpless old man that he had to go with them. He begged to be let alone but they forced him to go. The robbers and their victim who could hardly walk passed out of the building and silently disappeared in the darkness and was gone. As soon as they had left the house Tom Jones Jumped out of bed and left the house in an opposite direction from the way the robbers went with my grandfather and overtaken grandmother as she was hobbling and groping her way along the dark and lonely road. The boy was so demoralized that he ran on ahead of her and never did come back any more. My poor helpless and feeble grandmother finally got to Mr. Vanzants before daybreak. My little brother ran out of the house while the robbers were making my grandfather get out to take him with them and he said afterward that he traveled 7 miles that night before he stopped. He said that after he had run near a mile from home he heard the report of a pistol but he was laboring under such a strain of excitement and fear that he was unable to tell the direction the weapon was fired. This horrible crime occurred in the month of May, 1865, and there were but few men and women living in the country; especially around Bellfonte. But what few people there were they turned out willingly to search for grandfathers dead body for we well knew that he had been murdered. We hunted day after day for him without the least success. When the old soldiers of both sides had returned home who lived in that locality some of them helped us look for him but we were not able to find any trace of him. It was not that we reached the conclusion that they had taken him many miles before they disposed of his life. There had been a fence just northeast of the Bristow house that was on the division line between a part of grandfathers land and that of a man of the name of Sloane. This fence had been destroyed by fire except one pannel that escaped. A thick growth of post oak bushes and tall grass grew in this same fence corner that escaped the raging fire. This was ¾ of a mile from where grandfather was so cruelly tortured. We had all given up of ever finding the remains or of ever hearing from him anymore, when one morning in 1867 or two years after he was taken off my stepfather William Smith heard his dogs treed and on going to them he found that it was a coon they had chased and it had went up a tree and he shot the coon. This was 1 ¼ miles from his house. On his way back home with the dead coon he happened to pass in a few feet of the fence corner just named and discovered peices of clothing and a few bones lying in the grass and bushes that was in this corner. He stopped and examined the bones and the remnants of cloth. It was evident that the bones were humane and that the rage had belonged to it. Mr. Smith now hurried to the house and told the story of his find to the family and we all believed that it was the remains of my dear old grandparent. The neighbors were notified at once and it was not long before they had gathered at the place designated and after a thorough examination of the peices of clothing and teeth all who knew him were convinced that they belonged to grandfather. At the time of the discovery my grandmother was living in Newton County, Arkansas, and was up on a visit the day previous and had started on the return home early that morning and a runner was sent to give her the news of the discovery and she was overtaken at Pleas Fowlers where she had stopped to remain over night and she come back and was present at the burial of the remains of her husband which received interment on the old farm one mile east of Bellfonte. As far as I know my grandfathers money was never found. The people who had made such strong exertions in searching for the body said they had passed in 50 and 60 yards of this spot but never thought of going to it to look for him there.”
A HORRIBLE DAY
By S. C. Turnbo
One of the oldest citizens of Protem, Taney County, Missouri, living at the present writing is W. J. (Bill) Adams, son of Benoni and Elizabeth (Sutherland) Adams and was born in Hickman County, Tennessee, May 16, 1838. Benoni Adams, his father, was born in 1809, his grandfather, Laborn Adams, was born in Virginia. Benoni Adams and his wife left the state of Tennessee and moved into Missouri and settled in Ripley County when Bill was 6 years old. In a few years afterward his parents moved into Howell County where in 1859 on February 10 Bill Adams and Miss Sarah E. Herrean were married. Mr. Adams by request of the writer furnished him with the sad details of the killing of his father and brother, Edward, in the month of January, 1864. “we were living ten miles west of West Plains in Howell County, Missouri, and two miles northeast of Pottersville. Our farm was on Spring River that empties into the Big North Fork. One day in the month and year named a party of mounted men charged up to my father’s house and seeing my father and my brother Edward in the road a short distance from the house, they galloped to-ward them and began firing at them. My father was struck 13 times. He got 40 yards from the spot where they first shot him before he fell. Then he rose on his knees and they shot him until he fell again and was dead. They shot Edward three times before he was dead. He was killed first. They lay dead 30 yards apart. Edward was two years my senior. My wife and her sister, Mary Ann Herrean, witnessed the death of them both. It was a horrible day for our family and It was a terrible sight for my wife and her sister to see my father and my brother so cruelly put to death in their presence. The two bodies received interment in the Spring Creek graveyard. They were buried in the same grave but in separate coffins.” Mr. Adams continuing said, “Beside myself and brother Edward, there were three other brothers of us. Their names are Houston, Thomas Franklin and Layfayette. I only had one sister and her name was Mary Francis.”
HE WAS KILLED AND THE HORSES CAPTURED
By S. C. Turnbo
Many victims of the war were met and shot to death by guerrillas of both armies in the bloody war between the states. In giving narrations of this kind Mr. James S. Griffin told me that a man of the name of Ben Evens, who belonged to Co. E 8th Missouri Cavalry union troops and the same command that he himself was a member of. This man Evens was authorized by the commanding general of our department with headquarters at Springfield, Missouri, to purchase or take suit all horses for the artillery service and he took charge of all the best horses he could lay hands on if they seemed to be adapted for hard service. They were paid for if the price was reasonable, if not they were taken anyhow. After he had collected 10 head of the kind desirable together he started to Springfield with them to deliver them to the authorities. But he never lived to reach his destination for when he arrived within 6 miles of Springfield a band of men met hit and shot him to death and taken the horses and made their escape with them. When the authorities learned of the facts they sent out a bunch of soldiers who recovered his body and gave it interment in the Enon graveyard 5 miles from Springfield.
THE DEATH OF FOUR MEN
By S. C. Turnbo
Jess Rhodes, an old time resident of southern Missouri whose home is near Dit Post Office in Taney County, has this to say of the killing of men during the great bloody strife of 1861-5. “In 1860 we left Pulaski County, Missouri, and settled near Bay Post Office in Douglas County. I remember,” said Mr. Rhodes, “that Jess Cornelison was called out of his house one day and killed. Zack Scribner was also called out and shot down. Joe Lyon was killed in his yard while he was sitting on a stump; his assasin crept up near the house and shot him. John Applegate was taken away by a band of men and never heard of him anymore but his hat was found in the woods two miles from home. Applegate was a union man. The sentiments of Scribner was southern. These men lived on the beautiful stream of Little Beaver Creek except Lyons and he lived at Lyon’s Mill on Big Beaver.”
AWFUL CRUEL TREATMENT
By S. C. Turnbo
The following narrative of a band of robbers inflicting a horrible torture on a citizen of Madison County, Arkansas, during the Civil War was given me by Mr. Ben Hager which he told in these words.
“A man of the name of John Sights or Sykes as he was commonly called lived some ten miles northwest of Huntsville in what was known as the Barren settlement. Some people called it ‘Calico Settlement.’ He lived near where a man of the name of Carlyle, a Methodist preacher, kept a store, or in other words he lived close by where the town of Hindsville started up after the close of the war. Hindsville took its name from Johny Hines, on whose land the town was built on. Mr. Sights owned a number of slave property and had accumulated a good sum of money. His wife was dead, leaving 5 children, 4 sons and one daughter. Two of his sons were in the confederate army and two others whose names were John and Richard belonged to the federal army. Mr. Sights himself was a southern sympathizer. His daughter was named Katie and was an honest and trusty. She was 17 years old when the war broke out. Mr. Sights being convinced that the country would be over run by robbers and theives of all sorts decided that he would turn all his money over to his faithful daughter and let her take it and the slaves to southern Texas. One night in the fall of 1864 a set of cutthroats rode up to Sights house., dismounted and went into the house and told Mr. Sights in a threatening way to give up his money. His answer was, “I won’t do it, you devils. And they told him that they would make him do it. “Well, ” said he, “go to work if you think you can make me do it, you heathenish set of scoundrels.” And without further words they proceeded to put their nefarious threats into execution, and strung him up by the neck and let him hang awhile and let him down. After he was able to under-stand what they said they told him that they would kill him if he did not surrender his money to them. “Kill and go to the devil, you cannot get my money,” said he. Then they strung him up the second time and let him hang a little longer than before., then lowered him and after he had revived, they said, “Now give up your money.” But he stoutly refused. The merciless men now informed him that they would resort to the fire and they guessed he would yeild to burning. They tied his feet fast together and his hands behind his back and took his shoes and socks off his feet and when this was accomplished the wretches picked him up and poked him feet foremost into the fire and pull him back then jab them into the fire again, they repeated this again before they desisted. But he resisted it all without yeilding the least bit. They threatened to torment him worse if he did not hand over his gold but he told them, “No, he would die first.” The robbers were disappointed and tried the same means of torture over again which was more cruel than before by shoving his feet deeper into the fire and continued their damnable work until the flesh on his feet was burned to a crisp and the flesh on his legs were cooked halfway to his knees. During the awful suffering he was undergoing he informed his tormentors that only one other person knew where his money was and that she was true and honest and they would never come in possession of it. They had burned him so horribly that he was more dead than alive and thinking he would die in a few hours they left him. There was a few people yet living in the neighborhood and one of them happened to pass by the house on the following morning and on discovering his terrible condition and word was sent out and some of the people what was left from the effects of the war gathered in and cared for him. An army surgeon who belonged to the federal side was sent for and he come and amputated both legs above the knees and after long patience and suffering he took a turn to improve and finally got well and survived the war 4 years and soon after his four sons had returned home and his daughter had come back from Texas. He told them to make use of his money and they invested it in goods and owned a store in Hindsville.”
HE ENDURED THE TORTURE AND DID NOT YIELD UP HIS MONEY
By S. C. Turnbo
Among the number of accounts I have gathered relating to tortures inflicted on helpless old men in war days by the ruthless robbers and jayhawkers is one told me by Mr. Ben Hager, who said that a man of the name of Jonathan Moody lived on Holmans Creek a few miles northwest of Huntsville, Arkansas. He was a well to do man and had plenty of property when the war come up and was known to have plenty of gold and silver. One night during the last days of December, 1863, when he was 57 years old a band of jayhawkers swooped down on him and demanded his money. He told them he had no money to give them. They disputed his word and threatened to use violence to him if he did not give them his gold and silver. He persisted in denying having any money. But they told him he was a liar and they would hang him if he did not give it up immediately. “Hang if you want to but you won’t get any money from me, ” said Mr. Moody. This greatly angered the bandits and they tied his hands and a rope around the mans neck and putting the other end of the rope over a beam in the house they pulled him up and after suspending him a short while they let him down and as soon as he had partially re-covered from the strangle and strain, they made another demand for money and he informed them that they Could not get his money. “You can hang me till I am dead. My money is out of your reach and you are not able to lay your hands on it.” The independent and defiant answer from their helpless victim made the scoundrels more angry, and “We’ll torture you with fire,” said one of them and they proceeded to put their threats into execution. “Burn me if you desire to and may God attend to you for your wickedness, ” said he. The robbers took off his shoes and socks and tied him down to the floor with his naked feet resting on the hearth and after getting all their preparations made for the torture they proceeded to dip up live coals of fire and hot embers and dropped the fire and embers on his feet and ankles. The old man’s sufferings was awful, but he endured it as calm as he possibly could and never give in to them. He cursed them all the time while they were burning him and told them that they could scorch him to death but they could not force him to give them his money. Finally after they had abused him unmercifully they untied him and went out of the house and mounted their horses and rode off, His feet had been burned so severely that it was many weeks before the sores got well and the toe nails were scorched so bad that they come off. He was alone when the bandits attacked the house. He lived through the remainder of the war and was alive when I left Madison County in the fall of 1865.
CRUEL TREATMENT OF A BOY BY BRUTISH MEN
By S. C. Turnbo
“One day in war times, ” said Mrs. Elizabeth Clark, “while I was living on Little North Fork above the mouth of Little Creek I and Jane Haskins, while out afoot hunting for a horse, we met 6 men and a boy who were stragglers from Price’s army who had just made his raid into Missouri in October, 1864. They were all afoot and bareheaded and one man and the boy was barefooted and the shoes the other men had on were nearly worn out. Their clothes were ragged and hung in tatters. We met them on a hill between Little Creek and the North Fork and they said they were trying to make their way south. The boy was carrying a sack which was partly filled with ears of corn. Five of the men were walking in front of the boy and one was walking behind him with a club in his hand and when the boy who was evidently very tired and would lag a little the man with the club would hit him on the back or shoulder like driving a beast. The blow from the stick in the hands of the man would cause the helpless boy to go a little faster. The child never said a word against this cruel treatment. He was simply driven along by the brutish man and he seemed to be afraid to say anything. I felt interested in the way he was treated and I ask the men about him, They claimed that he was a widow woman’s son and that he had been with Price’s army on the raid and that he wanted to go back home but they intended to make him go south with them. We learned afterward that this same party had stopped at the Bob Gilliland farm on Little North Fork and Grannie Haskins had offered to give the boy food and the men would not allow it. The old lady was determined not to be outdone and give him some milk to drink in spite of all their threats to prevent it. I learned after the close of the war that the boy was murdered by these men in the hills of northern Arkansas, but this was not confirmed.”
ROBBING AN INFANT CHILD OF ITS WRAP
By S. C. Turnbo
The cruel war as it went on give a number of men a chance to show their true disposition. I never contended that our Civil War made rascals but those who were inclined that way took the advantage under the cover of the war and willingly accepted the opportunity to pursue what they desired to follow. I was informed from a reliable source that on one occasion during war times while John Stone’s wife who lived on Pond Fork of Little North Fork was riding along the road one day with her infant child on her lap which was wrapped up with a warm shawl she met a robber on horseback who stopped and without the least warning the wicked man made a desperate grab for the shawl. The mother was taken by surprise not expecting such ill treatment and did not have time to clasp the innocent babe in her arms for, protection when the scoundrel jerked the shawl from around the baby and the child was snatched off of her lap. The infant had on a long dress and the mother in her frantic efforts to save the child from falling on the rough stones caught the tail of the infant’s dress and kept it from touching the ground. But the baby’s head struck against the horses knees as it swung down head foremost before the frightened and astonished lady could pull it back on her lap. The heathen man took the shawl and rode on.
HOW JOHN NAVE MET DEATH
By S. C. Turnbo
During the turbulent days of the war between the states if any of the troops of either side fell into the hands of regular soldiers they were usually treated well, if otherwise they hardly ever escaped abuse and suffered many hardships. Especially this is true if they were sent to prison where inexperienced officers and men of an overbearing and abusive nature had control of them. There is no question in my mind but that hundreds of prisoners of war on both sides who were confined in large prisons suffered untold misery while in charge of haughty and domineering guards who never knew any-thing about marching to the front and fighting the enemy face to face. But let it be said that all good hearted, true and brave men of either army were never guilty of mistreating a prisoner of war when he was obedient to the rules of war.
John Mahan who was a union soldier in war days and served in Capt. William J. Piland’s company 46 Mo. regiment of mounted men, was captured twice before peace was made. He said the last time he was taken he fell into rough hands and was ill treated which came about in this way. “I and my father, Isaac Mahan, P. R. (Dick) Martin, Pate Johnson and John Nave had been down together from where we lived in Douglas County, Missouri, to our old homes on Little North Fork collecting our stock that we had left there when we moved away for better protection. We had found about 27 head of hogs that belonged to us and started home with them and while on our way back we stopped one night where Mose Martin lived on Beaver Spring Creek to stay over until the following morning. During the night Jim Helms with 10 men swooped down on us and made us prisoners and captured our horses and equipments. They stripped us of our boots, hats and over-coats and set Dick Martin, Mose Martin and Pate Johnson at liberty. It was Christmas Eve night, 1864, the weather was cold and the ground froze, but the sky was clear of clouds and the moon was full. The enemy who were irregulars made me and my father and John Nave go with them down the creek and we were forced to walk on the frozen ground in our sock feet and without hats and coats which was rough treatment and we suffered with cold, but we dare not complain. While they were robbing us one of the men put his hand in my fathers pockets and took out an old Barlow knife, a silk handkerchief and a dollar in money which he kept of course. When we got some distance down the creek John Nave seeing that they intended to kill him made an attempt to escape by running and Helms men fired at him as he run. They pursued him and over-hauled him in a gully or deep swag in the ground where Nave begged hard for his life but it was a waste of words for they shot him to death with shotguns about 100 yards from the road. It was a critical moment for myself and my father for I really believed that I and him would have to meet death there too. But after they taken us further down the creek and after having made me trot on the frozen ground in my sock feet a while they released us both and told us to go on our way. John Nave is buried in the cowskin graveyard on Cowskin Creek in Douglas County, Missouri, where his brother, Abe Nave, is buried.”
A WOMAN IS ALLOWED TO KILL THE MURDERER OF HER HUSBAND
By S. C. Turnbo
The following story of the turbulent days of war times was told me by John Ray, son of John Ray. His mother’s given name was Martha. Both these old people died in Boone County, Arkansas, and were buried in the Foresee graveyard at the Foresee school house in the north part of Boone County. John Ray (junior), son of John Ray, senior, was born in Lawrence County, Missouri, December 19, 1855. In giving the war time story as mentioned above, Mr. Ray said that a man of the name of Reed was a prominent merchant who lived in the town of Alton in Oregon County, Missouri. One night during the war a band of robbers on horseback come to the town and robbed Reed’s store and fled away as fast as their horses could take them. On the following day a company of men was organized to pursue the bandits and they followed them into Arkansas, and after they got into the state the posse deemed it prudent to divide and make an effort to entrap the band. Near 24 hours after this the party of men that Mr. Reed was with over hauled the thieves and the robbers proposed a parley and the pursuers accepted it on certain conditions which was agreed to on the other side. Both parties selected two men each who met midway between their friends, and while they were talking one of the robbers drew his revolver and shot Mr. Reed in the breast. George Ray, who was with Reed, said he saw the smoke of the discharged pistol enter Reed’s body. At the report of the pistol Reed’s horse wheeled about and lunged forward a long jump or two but the wounded man stayed in the saddle. The guerrillas retreated and got away before the other men could interfere. Mr. Reed lived an hour after he was shot and rode one mile before he was compelled to dismount and lay down on the ground. His comrades remained with the dying man until he was dead. Then arrangements was made to convey the body home by a few of the men. Soon after the dead man was sent back to Alton the guerrilla and the remainder of the posse encountered each other and had a fight and the robbers scattered. More men collected together to give all the aid they could to capture or kill the band. Mrs. Reed, the widow of the dead man, ask permission to accompany the posse in order to identify some of the robbers if they were caught. In a day or two they encountered part of the band on the Eleven Points Creek just over the line in Arkansas and after a hot fight they captured alive the man who shot Reed and the bereaved woman begged permission of the men to be allowed to slay the murderer of her husband herself and her request was granted and she took deliberate aim at the bandit with a gun and shot him dead.”
BURIED NEAR THE SPOT WHERE HE MET DEATH
By S. C. Turnbo
In many instances men who were killed during the angry times of the great Civil War between the north and south were buried by the women and children on the same spot or nearby where the enemy had slain them. They were simply shot down on first eight or pursued and killed and their bodies left where they fell to be taken care of by their friends and relatives. In truth there was hardly anyone left to care for the bodies except the wives and daughters and small boys. As we have often repeated we feel thankful and rejoice that those days of trouble, strife and blood-shed are gone and we hope they will never return again to disturb the peace loving people of the United States any more. The guerrillas, robbers, cutthroats—in fact all irregulars of either side were alike guilty in shooting down every man they met almost if they thought they were the least opposed to them. Among the man who were slain in North Fork Township in Marion County, Arkansas, was a man of the name of Jack Nash who lived on White River. Mr. Ewing Hogan, who was a small boy at the breaking out of the war, informed me that Mr. Nash was killed on the side of a hill on the George Hogan place 1 ½ miles below the mouth of Little North Fork. He was shot in the head and killed instantly and the enemy left the body where it fell to be devoured by the vultures and wild beasts. But the kind ladies and little boys of the neighborhood collected together and gave the body as decent burial as circumstances would admit. Mr. Hogan said that the remains received interment near the spot where they were found.
VISITING THE GRAVE OF HER AFFIANCE
By S. C. Turnbo
Across the hollow west of the Hoodenpile graveyard, the way the old road leads, is a low hill that was once covered with trees and undergrowth. The land is now in cultivation. Just south of this rise toward the river is the site of the old Pete Hoodenpile residence. Just west of this across the hollow is where the Mat Hoodenpile houses stood. The grave-yard is situated on a beautiful plot of ground ¼ mile from the river and is known now as the John Riddle cemetery. Between the graveyard and the bank of the river is a spring where an old cabin stood in which Elijah Barnes and his family lived when the Civil War began. This is on the north side of White River in Keesee township in Marion County, Arkansas.
During the third year of the war a young man of the name of John King was living at Aunt Sally Hoodenpile’s who with her married daughter Mrs. Sarah Jane Murphy was living in the Pete Hoodenpile house. John Jones and family was occupying the Mat Hoodenpile dwelling. Mr. King had come across the river from East Sugar Loaf Creek where he was engaged to be married to Miss Pop Wilmoth, a sister of George Wilmoth (not Preacher George). A young horse had run away with him and he got his face badly bruised and was swelled. One morning while he was there a company of mounted men rode up to the yard fence and halted and questioned the young man very closely and threatened to kill him. But Mrs. Hoodenpile and her daughter pleaded with the men not to kill him and the company rode on down the road by the graveyard and crossed the river at the ford where the head of the Ireland lies against the upper end of the old Allin Trimble land. But before the company reached the ford of the river two of the cavalry men dropped out of ranks and rode back to the house and demanded John King. When the two men rode up to the fence King was sitting before the fire eating a cake that had been sweetened with sorghum molasses. Throwing part of the cake in the fire he remarked, “They have come back to kill me, ” and got up and went out to the fence where the two men sat on their horses and they ordered him to get over the fence and go with them. He obeyed and passed on and they reined their horses around and followed him. He knew they were unmerciful men and intended to murder him and he said but little. But as they were leaving Aunt Sally Hoodenpile ran and overtaken the two blue coats and begged them not to shoot the young man. One of the men halted and conversed with her while the other man went on with the helpless captive. After they had passed on a short while the report of a gun was heard toward the graveyard followed by the distressing cry of, “Oh—oh-” Then a second shot was heard followed by a piteous cry of, “Oh, Lordy.” Then all was silent. The man who was talking with Mrs. Hoodenpile sparred his horse forward and galloped on to overtake his comrade in blood. At this moment Miss Adaline Jones, daughter of John Jones, now the wife of George Holt, in company with Mrs. Sarah Jane Murphy who was 14 years old and Adaline 15 years of age, started to the murdered man. When they reached the spot where he lay he was lying on his face just over the rise toward the graveyard. His head was downhill. One shot had took effect in the back at the cross of the suspenders. The second ball had passed into his head between the left ear and the back of the head. The man was still alive but unconscious. Miss Adaline and Mrs. Murphy raised up the nearly lifeless form and turned the head up the hill and placed him on his back. Then Adaline broke off some small bushes and little limbs and putting them together placed them under the dying man’s head for a pillow. Sarah Jane now started back to the house for assistance while Adaline remained with him. But she soon met her mother and Mrs. Elizabeth Jones coming and she returned with them, and by the time they got there Mr. King was dead. It was decided that while some of the ladies remained with the dead body to guard it from molestation from the dogs and hogs the others would go and hunt for a wagon and yoke of oxen to haul the dead body to the graveyard which was done as soon as possible. When the wagon was brought to where the dead man lay the women lifted the body into the wagon box. A pool of blood had run out at the bullet holes and Adaline covered the blood from view with dirt and trash and while the dead man was being hauled across the hollow to the graveyard she walked behind the wagon and covered up the blood as it dripped through the openings in the bottom of the wagon box to the ground. When they reached the graveyard some boards were placed on the ground and the body was taken out of the wagon and laid on the board. In a short time other help arrived. The women and children dug a grave and just before they commenced to dig the vault John Jones come and dug the vault for them. When the preparations were made for the burial the body was wrapped in a bed sheet that Mrs. Hoodenpile had furnished and lowered into the grave and some pieces of plank that Mr. Jones had furnished was laid over the vault and the dirt filled in. In a few days after the death of the young man his betrothed learning of his death come over from Sugar Loaf Creek to visit the grave and Adaline and Mrs. Hoodenpile accompanied her to the graveyard where Mrs. Hoodenpile gave the girl a finger ring, a pocket book, and a lock of hair which she had taken out of the dead man’s pocket. The ring and lock of hair belonged to the girl which the young man was keeping as a token of love he cherished for the now poor weeping girl.
A HORRIBLE EXECUTION
By S. C. Turnbo
This sad account was given me by S. H. (Sam) Griffin, an ex federal soldier who during war days belonged to Co. A 8th Mo. Cavalry. Mr. Griffin, when I interviewed him, lived near Oneta Post Office in the Indian Territory. In relating incidents of war times in southern Missouri he said that one day seven men who belonged to that command were captured by southern guerrillas and executed. The men were detailed on special duty and after they had performed the services they had been sent to do they were on their way back to join their command at Lebanon in Laclede County, Missouri, and were overpowered by the guerrillas and captured. The exultant band of men conducted their captives to a spot of ground in the vicinity of Buffalo in Dallas County where they put them to death by shooting. One of the unfortunate fellows was a young man of the name of Silas Hook, son of Alpherd Hook who lived near the Iron churchhouse in Polk County which joins Dallas on the west. Young Hook, when he found that he and his comrades were doomed to die by the cruel hands of their captors, begged permission of the leader of the bushwhackers to be permitted to write a farewell letter to his dear old mother, Mrs. Annie Hook, and also to grant him the privilege of kneeling in prayer to the great Power above to pray for himself and his companions to which both requests were reluctantly granted. Then he ask his enemies if they would send the letter to his mother and father after he was dead and the leader promised him that he could rest assured that his mother would receive the letter provided she could be reached without endangering their lives. After he had written the last words and signed his name for the last time he handed the letter to the commander of the band to inspect who after reading it placed the missive in his pocket and then the young man requested his doomed comrades to kneel with him in prayer and after an earnest petition to the all merciful God to receive their spirits they arose from their knees and made ready to die and the seven condemned men were shot to death and their enemies left their dead bodies lay where they fell and rode away. It turned out that the leader was true to his promise and sent the letter to the young man’s friends and they in turn sent It in haste to his father and mother and the sorrowing parents accompanied by some of their neighbors started immediately to the scene of the execution and found all the dead men lying in a heap. Friends of some of the other dead men arrived and took charge of the bodies and taken them to their respective homes where they were buried. Others of the dead men were buried on the spot where they gave up their lives for the old flag. Mr. Hook and his wife took the remains of their dead son to their home in Polk County and gave them burial in the Iron church house graveyard. The mother of Silas Hook was a kind hearted woman, but she was so overcome with sorrow and grief at the manner in which her son suffered death that while the coffin was being lowered into the grave she rose to her feet and expressed her feeling in the following angry tone. “I never want to speak to another southern man. I cannot afford to forgive the southern people for the death of my dear child.” The almost heart broken mother imagined that all the southern army were like those guerrillas who slew her son unfairly. She did not take into consideration that the true and brave men who composed the regular confederate army were not made up of bushwhackers and cutthroats and were not guilty of committing such cruel deeds and did their warring according to the rules of war and that there were just as mean and wicked men on our side who committed the worst of crimes on southern people whenever they had a chance and not those brave fellows who fought in the regular organizations. It was the bad men of both sides who committed such wicked deeds.” Continuing Mr. Griffin said, “Silas Hook was shot in the forehead above the left eye which was all the wound found on his body except that the finger next to the little finger of the right hand was shot off. None of his friends were able to explain this unless his hands were left free when he was executed and if they were it was supposed that the gun or pistol in the hands of his executioner was held close to his head and just as the fatal bullet was fired the young man had raised his right hand for some purpose and the ball took off the finger and took effect in the head as mentioned above. Many men of both north and south acted very cruel and unmerciful and refused to follow honorable rules of warfare, ” said Mr. Griffin.
WIFE AND DAUGHTER SAVED HIS LIFE
By S. C. Turnbo
In recalling incidents of Civil War times Jim Thomas, an old time resident of Green County, Missouri, tells of his father’s experience With a band of men one day during the war while he lived four miles northeast of Springfield. “At the time I speak of, ” said Mr. Thomas, “the confederates were in possession of Springfield. One night before they gave up the city two mounted men come to father’s house and father gave them their supper and fed their horses. Though the two men made no threats but we supposed that they were spies from a band of robbers sent there to find out whether we had any property worth their while and trouble to come and take. My father owned a fine stallion and two good mares which were kept out in the woods in the care of my brother, Bill Thomas, to prevent them from being stolen. My brother was careful not to bring them home when the main roads were frequently traveled over with war parties, some of which were regular confederate soldiers and some were marauders, thieves., and robbers of all kind. On the following day after the two men had visited our house that night we saw 30 horsemen advancing slowly toward the house. They did not appear to be in a hurry. When the head of the column reached the yard gate the leader halted the men and called for my father who was in the house end had made no attempt to get away. Father went out into the yard and the leader ask him where his stallion and two mares were, which father flatly refused to tell him. The leader did not interrogate him anymore, but ordered five of the men to dismount and take charge of him and while they were dismounting and hitching their horses the leader ordered a tall slim fellow of the band to take a rope from one of the saddles and fix a running noose. This was rough language for it indicated something dark and my father knew what it meant, but said nothing. My stepmother, whose name was Liddie and my sister, whose name was Celia Ann, and my-self prepared for the worst for we were convinced that there were enough men to overpower and murder everyone of us. My father was standing in the yard in front of the door and the leader ordered the men to put the rope around father’s neck and swing him up in the air and if they let him down in time he might change his mind and tell where the horses were. When the men took hold of him to place the noose around his neck he resisted but there was so many or them they soon overpowered him and resistance was useless and he stood still. At this Juncture my stepmother and sister, both of which were nearly frightened nearly to death, rushed up to my father and tried to push the men away but finding they could not do this they grabbed hold of the rope and tried to snatch it from the men’s hands but their strength was too weak against so many stout men. They changed their tactics and while the robbers made efforts to place the noose around father’s neck the two women would jerk the rope away. Once and awhile the men would get the noose almost over his head when with a dexterous lift the women would raise it up in spite of the attempts of the ruffians to fasten it around his neck. The more they worked to hang father the harder the women struggled to prevent it. I was only a boy but I well remember how myself and stepmother and sister begged and implored the thieves not to hang him. It was a stirring and sorrowful scene. All the family except father was crying and he did not seem to be a bit afraid. It seemed at one time that they would succeed in getting the noose at the right place and then they would drag him to a tree and throw the loose end of the rope over a limb and pull him up but the two brave women foiled them in their murderous work. Finally the men desisted for it seemed that the firm resistance made by my stepmother and sister baffled them and they ask father if he would go to Springfield with them and he answered in the affirmative. To this stepmother and sister stoutly protested against his going off with them for they believed that it was only a pretense to get father away from the house so that they could shoot or hang him and when father started to the yardgate to go with them we all pleaded with them so hard not to take him off that after they had started with him a short distance they turned him loose and rode on and he come back to the house. It was not that our grief turned to shouting and rejoicing for we were so glad that his life was saved. my father did not remain at home anymore until after the southern men gave up possession of Springfield.”
“KILLED BY BUSHWHACKERS”
By S. C. Turnbo
An account of the killing of four men in Cole County, Missouri, during the Civil War was furnished me by Frank Stevens who was only a little lad of a boy then and lived in that part of Missouri in war times. “One day,” said Mr. Stevens, “four men were captured by the guerrillas. I knew two of the men that were taken, the names of which were John McClure and his son Sam McClure. I cannot call to mind the names of the other two men. The bandits met the four men in the road in the river bottom on the South Morean River and made them go with them 50 yards into a dense growth of timber where they were put to death. I saw the four dead bodies lying there on the following day after they were killed. I had went with several men who prepared the bodies for burial. This was 4 miles south of Russellville. The bodies of McClure and his son received interment in the Lucinda Amos graveyard 3 miles west of the town of Russellville. I remember that the emblem of a saber was carved on John McClure’s headstone and the following words were also cut: “Killed by Bushwhackers”
I do not know where the bodies of the other two men were buried as their friends and relatives taken them away.”
SAVING HER HOUSE THROUGH TEARS AND PRAYER
By S. C. Turnbo
A man of the name of Joe Allin lived on Shoal Creek in Taney County, Missouri. His cabin stood on the east bank of the creek near ¼ mile below Protem. When the war broke out Allin claimed to be a southern man but refused to enlist in the confederate army. As the war progressed Joe proved to be a bad man and kept the worst of company. Peter Keesee who lived on Big Creek on what is now the Sam Holett place was a union man and when the war warmed up to red heat Keesee taken his family and sought safety among his friends who lived on Little North Fork. “A few hours after I was compelled to desert my home on Big Creek, it said Mr. Keesee, “Joe Allin and his clan come along and finding that we were gone set fire to my dwelling and reduced it to ashes. I went on and as soon as I had got my family in safe quarters I lost no time in making preparations to retaliate on the destroyer of my residence. Joe Allin had burned my home and I was determined to burn his hut. I ask a few of my intimate friends to assist me at the burning and they promised to aid me. It was war times and who cared for burning a house when the enemy burns yours. My heart was hardened and with those that had promised to help me we mounted our horses and rode off toward Shoal Creek. We went at a rapid gait and It did not take us many hours to reach Joe’s cabin. Of course Joe was not there but his wife, whose name was Alwilda, and two or three little children were in the house. The wife and children were destitute. Their clothes were in tatters and they were nearly without food. It was shameful for a man to turn a mother and her little ragged children out of doors. But I cared nothing for that. I was wanting revenge for the lose of my house. I informed Mrs. Allin at once what we had come for and as I did not desire to deprive her of what few house-hold property she had in the house I ordered her in a peremptory way that she must carry her household effects out of doors. She protested in piteous words not to destroy their only place of shelter. It seemed that I possessed the heart of a savage and refused to listen to her tearful entreaties. In reply I told her to hurry or I would set the house on fire before she carried her things out. With loud sobs and her eyes bathed in tears she began to move out the few bed clothes and scant furniture. She saw that it was useless to plead with a barbarian and went on with the work. We waited in silence until the despairing woman had carried all her effects to a safe distance so that they would escape the flying sparks from the burning hut. We now began to make preparations to set the building on fire for I was anxious to see it go up in flames. At this moment the now nearly crazed woman renewed her pleading to me not to wipe out their only shelter. She prayed that I might repent Of my wicked design of burning their cabin and that she could not help what Joe had done and begged me and my friends to return back home and leave her house to shelter herself and helpless children. She looked up toward heaven and I saw her tear stained cheeks, and as the tears were streaming down her face she implored the good Ruler of heaven and earth to soften our hearts that we might abandon our heartless work and go away without destroying her only place of abode. She stood and pleaded and prayed as if her heart was broken. Her little children were standing there with her holding to her dress and crying. It was a heart rending scene. A few minutes before this Satan had control of my heart. But as I listened at the poor helpless woman’s piteous sobs of grief and heard her devoted prayers and saw her children huddled about her my wicked thoughts of burning the house began to soften. The spirit of revenge was leaving me and an impression of pity was taking the place of my stony heart. Her prayers were too much for me and I yielded to the influence of her supplications. Turning to my companions I said, “Men, we cannot afford to burn this house and I told the weeping woman that she was at liberty to carry her stuff back into the hut for it was safe as far as we were concerned for we had got out of the notion of putting fire to the building. The nearly distracted woman could hardly believe it until I assured her that it was true. Then she gladly put away her tears and sorrows and rejoiced that I had changed my mind. Though Joe Allin had wronged me and it was my desire and intention to treat him likewise but the tearful prayers of his helpless wife had turned my reckless heart into one of mercy and I thank God to this day that I did not burn that cabin.”
A BEREAVED WIFE HAULS THE DEAD BODY OF HER HUSBAND
TO THE GRAVE YARD ON TRUCK WHEELS
By S. C. Turnbo
In the year 1851 Nathan Young and Annie Moriah Young, his wife,, with their children settled on Pond Fork one mile below the Rufe Haskins place in Ozark County, Missouri. Young’s wife was a daughter of Jerry Hutchison. They were married in east Tennessee and Annie Moriah was his second wife. Mr. Young was a native of Virginia, being born there soon after the closing scenes of the Revolutionary War. He and his family were living on Pond Fork at the breaking out of the War Between the States. He sympathized on the side of the stars and stripes but he was too old to serve in the army. But his age did not prevent him from suffering death from the hands of the irregulars.
Mrs. Mary Ann Sewell, daughter of Mr. Young, now the wife of Zeke Sewell and who was born on Pond Fork May the 2nd, 186o, furnished the details of her father’s death which was told her by her mother as she was too young to remember but little about it. She said that one morning in the spring of 1865 my father started out afoot to hunt the oxen which he used to plow with. He had not been gone from the house very long before a band of armed men rode up to the Yard gate and demanded the whereabouts of my father. Mother said she told them that he was not there but refused to tell them where he had went and they cursed and abused her for not telling them and ended by saying, “You shall never see his face anymore alive.” John Asberry and my brother, Jerry Young, who was 14 years old and Charley Davis, all of which were only boys, were in the field at work and the ruffians went into the field where they were and told them if they did not tell them where my father was they would kill them all three immediately which frightened them so that they told them where he had gone—that he had went into the woods to drive up the oxen and give them the direction he had went and the men mounted their horses and hurried away to hunt him up. Shortly after they were gone my mother heard the report of guns and a half hour or more the same men come back and told my mother that they had killed father and went on. This occurred just two weeks before my sister Sarah was born. My poor mother and we children were in great distress. We all went out to hunt for his body but we did not succeed in finding it that day. But on the following morning my dear mother in company with old aunt Suky Asberry and Tilda Pitts found the body lying on a little bench of land on a hillside just east of Bear Hollow that runs into Pond. Fork. He had been shot 5 times. Knowing that he was dead they yoked up the oxen and hitched them to the truck cart and fastened a large wooden box on it and taken the oxen and cart with them into the woods and when they discovered the murdered remains of my father they lifted it up and placed it in the box and hauled it to the Haskins graveyard on the west side of North Fork 3 miles above the mouth of Pond Fork, where with the assistance of one man a grave was dug and the body of my dear old father was lowered into it. By this time the man was afraid to stay longer and hurried off and the women filled in the grave. My mother died in January, 1882, and is buried in the Tempy Hutchison graveyard one mile below the Haskins graveyard.”
FAITHFUL AND TRUE
By S. C. Turnbo
We have mentioned on other occasions how true and noble the women were in war times. Those brave hearted souls saved many men from being put to death. If it had not been for a number of these fearless women there would have been worse things done than were done and a much less number of men would have come out of the awful conflict alive than did. The author has contended since the close of the great Civil War that every county in each state of the whole United States ought to build a monument in the court house square of each county seat in honor and memory of the true and faithful women who did all they could to save life and property, help the needy and who contended so faithful for the side they claimed to love best. We have read in history how a true and noble wife has sacrificed her life to save her husband from a horrible death. It is also recorded in history that men and women who embraced Christianity would suffer death at the stake rather than renounce the name of their beloved Saviour. So it was in war times when our great United States was convulsed from the east to the west and from the gulf to the north with blood and death. May our country never experience such a time anymore. With this much said in favor of those true and fearless wives and daughters we will now proceed with our account which relates to a horrible affair that occurred in Civil War times in northwest Arkansas. The story of which was furnished me by Mrs. Mary Ann Fritts who said that Henry Fritts was a son of John Fritts who lived near the village of Wealey in Madison County, Arkansas. His wife’s name was Sally and was a daughter of “Kyer” Burchet. Fritts and wife had three sons whose names were Frank, John and Dan. The country there in war times was infested with thieves and bushwhackers of both sides. Every house had been visited from time to time by this class of cutthroats. One day in winter time while there apparently appeared to be peace for awhile in the neighborhood where Fritts lived, Mr. Fritts concluded he would remain at home a few days and prepare some sugar from the sap of the sugar trees that grew so abundantly in the mountains and so taking his eldest boys into the mountains where a fine grove of sugar maple trees stood and leaving his wife at home to care for the least children and what stock was left and went to work making sugar. He knew his life was at stake. If a certain class of men discovered his whereabouts they would find and kill him. He did not think they would dare harm his wife. One day while he was gone five men rode up to the yard fence to kill Mr. Fritts. But after searching the house, barn and all over the premises without finding him they ask his wife where he was which she promptly refused to reveal. They demanded of her to tell at once or they would punish her to which she refused again. The ruffians were now greatly wrought up with anger and threatened to kill her if she did not reveal his where-abouts. She informed them that they could kill her for it was in their power to do so and said she, “You will never know from me where my husband is.” This answer from the brave and faithful woman angered the scoundrels the more and they cursed and abused her and swore that they would torture her until she would be glad to give them the desired information, to which she replied, ‘You devils, I will die first.” At this they caught her and overpowered her by main strength and while some of the men held her the others took some seed cotton that they found in the house and pulled her mouth open and crammed it full of the cotton and bandaged her mouth so that she could not scream. She was able to breath through her nose in this condition but she was not able to make a noise. Then these awful brutes in human form proceeded to throw their helpless victim down on the hearth rock before a hot fire and held her there until she suffered severely from the heat of the fire. Then they turned her feet bare toward the fire and scorched them with heat,, not being satisfied with this they picked up the fire shovel and held it in the fire until it was hot then they applied it to her feet and rubbed it over them for several minutes. The poor suffering woman writhed in agony, but bore it without giving the least indication that she would reveal the whereabouts of her husband, but endured the painful torture. The black hearted and merciless men realizing that they could not compel her to tell of her man felt baffled and caring not whether she died or not left her and passed out of the house and mounted their horses and rode off. The poor suffering woman rolled herself away from the fire and by the help of her children she managed to get the bandage from over her mouth and pulled the cotton out. It was supposed that they thought that Fritts had a sum of money concealed somewhere and they tried to make her tell of that too but she stoutly refused to comply. Mr. Fritts owned a tanyard and had sold a great deal of leather from time to time and had accumulated a sum of money.”
BARBAROUS AND CRUEL
By S. C. Turnbo
On the north bank of White River in Keesee township, Marion County, Arkansas, is situated the old Mat Hoodenpile farm. At the back of the field is a sloo. Between this sloo or ravine and the river is a narrow strip of land called an island which the Protem and Lead Hill wagon road crosses in reaching the Bradley’s Ferry landing when the river is past fording or the Fish Trap shoals ford when the water is low. On the opposite side of the river from the Hoodenpile place is a high bluff. This land finally belonged to John D. Ackinson who died here on Christmas day, 1902, and is buried in the cemetery at Lead Hill. This land is an old settled farm but as we have made reference to this bottom in another sketch we will not repeat it here. In the course of time this land fell into the hands of Jimmie Jones, the father of Doctor Peter Jones and son of Sugar Jones, and Mat Hoodenpile and Sally Hoodenpile, his wife, bought this land of Jones’. Mat Hoodenpile was born in 1809. His wife was born September 13, 1813. They were both born and reared in the eastern part of Tennessee near the Cumberland Mountains and were married near the neighborhood where they were raised. Mrs. Hoodenpile was a daughter of John Briggs and she had three sisters, their names of which were Ruthy, who married Marlin Herd, father of John Herd, and Mahala, who married Allen Phelps. The other sister was named Polly. Mrs. Hoodenpile also had a brother named Andy Briggs. Steve Briggs, a close relative, was a Methodist preacher and lived on Sugar Loaf Creek below Lead Hill. John Briggs was a well to do man and was a slave holder and gave each one of his children a negro. The one he gave Mrs. Hoodenpile was a girl named Easter. The one he gave to Ruthy was named Susie. The one he gave to Polly was a negro boy named Mose. Hoodenpile and his wife gave their negro to Jimmie Jones for this land consideration 8500. I do not know exactly when they moved to this bottom but it was in the latter part of 1851 or early part of 1852. When they moved here they built a double houses of hewed logs with small room between them and stick and dirt chimney at each end of the house and porch on north side. This building stood on the point of the hill just above the bottom and only a short distance west of a small hollow where there is a little spring of water. They had three children., the names of which were Peter., who married Miss Malissa Owen, daughter of Christian Owen, who lived in the edge of the Sugar Loaf Prairie,, and Mary, who married Dave Forest and died in Ozark County, Missouri, in 1875, end Sarah Jane, who was not married at the time we speak of but was afterward married to John Murphy and they went to Texas where they separated and she rode horseback all the way from Texas to Marion County, Arkansas, alone, where in 1869 she married Dick Rosenberry and they moved to Killgore, Newton County, Arkansas. At the breaking out of the Civil War Peter Hooden-rile and his wife lived in a log house on the east side of the hollow just mentioned and used water out of the same spring his parents did. They had two children—a boy and a girl— the former was named Phillip and the latter was named Sarah Catherine. My memory of the Hoodenpiles in war times is sad and pathetic. Peter Hoodenpile enlisted in the southern army—Wm. C. Mitchell’s company, 14th regiment, Arkansas infantry, but was at home on leave of absence when the awful scenes occurred that we are about to relate. Mat Hoodenpile, his father, was a union man, but he was too old to take a Part in the war and remained at home and did not molest any body. On the 5th day of May, 1862, he was shot and wounded in his field while replanting corn. The assassin had concealed himself just on the outside of the fence near the sloo bank and shot at his victim 77 paces the bullet taking effect in the left shoulder. Though severely wounded yet he made his way to the house where his beloved wife dressed his wounds and cared for him. On the 12th of May or one week from the time he was wounded a band of assassins fired on Peter,, his son, and was struck by three bullets* The attack occurred on the east side of a trail that lead down the point of the hill to his father’s house and only a short distance from the house. Peter had been out stock hunting and was mounted on a small iron gray mare. The man was armed with a Mississippi rifle and a navy revolver—the same he carried in the army, but the assassins got the drop on him for they were so well concealed that he was in a few yards of them without seeing them and they opened fire on him. Strange to say there were five of the murderers but they never killed him. They were to his left and one ball struck him on the right nipple and it ranged into his arm below the shoulder, another ball glanced the top of his head and fractured the skull bone. A third ball cut Into his side and passed out. It seems that three of them intended to kill him and the other two intended to kill his mare. One of the-shots from the guns of these last two hit the fleshy part of the mare’s hip and the ball from the other man’s gun cut the bridle rein partly in twain below the mare’s neck. At the report of the guns the mare plunged forward and galloped down the hill to his father’s yard gate without the rider falling off and more than that he held to his rifle and revolver and the mare in running leaped over a big log that lay just above the wood yard. The mare in leaping this log cleared 21 feet. His wife and children were at his father’s house and as the wounded mare galloped up to the yard gate with the desperately wounded man his grief stricken wife and mother met him at the gate and lifted him from the saddle and carried him into the house. Elijah Barnes, a very old man, lived in a small cabin between the grave yard and the river bank. Barnes children were named John, Sam, Joe, Viney, Mary and Rosa,, and as it happened Sam Barnes, who was a little boy, was at Hoodenpile’s when Peter was waylaid and shot and the family sent young Barnes for the writer where I was living at my father’s house on the river two miles below the Hooden-pile homestead. When I arrived there Peter was suffering very bad from his wounds and his clothing was covered with blood and the family was almost distracted with grief. They requested me to go after the doctor who lived at the village of Dubuque on the river two miles below Elbow Shoals. I mounted one of their mules bareback and as the river was fordable I crossed it at the Fish Trap Shoals and hurried through the woods a nearer Way and crossed the river again at the mouth of East Sugar Loaf Creek and hurried on up the river to opposite Dubuque and recrossed the river and saw the doctor, but he refused to visit the wounded man for fear they (assassins) might kill him. Then I hurried to the residence of Doctor Hedley’s who lived in the Sugar Loaf Prairie and he refused to go too. I could do nothing more now but go back and tell the sadly afflicted family of my ill success. It seemed nearly impossible for the man to live but he did and lay suffering intensely until the night of the 26 or two weeks after he was shot when a party of armed men came to the yard fence and called for Mat Hoodenpile who though was feeble from his wound went to the door in spite of the entreaties of his wife and was shot down and expired in a few minutes and while his lifeless and bleeding form lay stretched on the floor the murderers entered the dwelling and threatened to finish Peter’s life ‘where he lay in the bed in the same house where his dead father lay on the floor. The man was suffering intensely and believing he had only a few more hours to live they at last desisted. The only person pre-sent except the family and the murderers that night was Miss Bettie Owen, a sister of Peter’s wife. No one can imagine the horrifying scenes agony and distress of this unfortunate family during that dark dismal night. Mrs. Hoodenpile and Malissa, Peter’s wife, and Miss Bettie Owen had put a straw bed down on the floor and lifted the dead form up from the floor and placed it on the straw bed where it rested until they sent for the writer and the boy Sam Barnes. When we arrived a great pool of blood lay on the floor and the bloody corpse lay on the straw bed. I and young Barnes shaved the murdered man and dressed him the best we could then we went to the grave yard on what is now the John Riddle farm and dug a grave while a few others prepared a rough coffin and we buried him late in the after-noon. Peter Hoodenpile’s condition by this time was growing much worse. The wound in the head was producing spasms and the other wounds were badly inflamed and setting up blood poison. He must have medical attendance if it could be had and I started after the same doctor again at Dubuque. The river was past fording now and after I had rode to the upper end of the Billy Holt farm, I followed the trail that lead along the foot of the bluff that the settlers had dug out for horsemen. Then up through the Jake Nave Bend to the opposite side of the river from Dubuque. The doctor’s name was Pete Jones and his office was in a little white house at the base of the hill and seeing John Oldham standing on the bank of the river at the village I called to him to go tell the doctor to come to the canoe landing as I desired to talk to him and he and the doctor got there in a few minutes and I explained to him the condition that Peter Hoodenpile was in and begged him to go see him and he consented to go. Mr. Oldham assisted him to swim his horse across the river by the side of the canoe and we started back. Knowing that the assassins would waylay the trail for the doctor and my-self we made a large circuit and avoided them for it actually turned out that they did waylay us at the extreme upper end of the Billy Holt farm and by surrounding the trail and traveling through the woods we escaped them. When the doctor arrived he raised the pieces of skull off of the brain of the suffering man and the spasms ceased, then he cleansed and dressed the other wounds and relieved him greatly of his suffering. The foul crimp,, aroused the sympathy of a large number of people who lived in the Sugar Loaf country south of White River and about 20 men collected at the Hoodenpile residence and the writer and them guarded the house day and night until the wounded man had recovered sufficiently to be removed to safe quarters on the Jack Hurst farm on Crooked Creek below Yellville where he remained until he was able to travel and he and wife went to. southwest Arkansas. One day in September, 1863, while the regiment the writer belonged to was camped in a canebrake on the Washita River below Arkadelphia, Peter Hoodenpile came to see me from where he lived about 60 miles. Soon after this he and wife went to Texas ‘where three more children were born to them, the names of which were Frank, Belle, and Bettie. Then his wife died and Peter himself died June 7, 1873. All of their children come back to Marion County except Phillip. Bettie died in the latter part of December, 1877. Sally Hoodenpile, her grand-mother, died January 8, 1878. They both lie buried in the graveyard on the John Riddle farm where Mat Hoodenpile was buried. Sarah Catherine, daughter of Peter Hoodenpile, married Green Pratt and she died near Western Grove, Arkansas. The other two children, Frank and Belle, were living near Western Grove the last account I had of them.
HOW A STOLEN COVERLET WAS RECOVERED
By S. C. Turnbo
On the 16 of August, 1906, I was shown a coverlet by Mrs. Sarah Matilda Cowan, daughter of Charley and Mary Ann (Hankins) Fritts. She was born near Wesley in Madison County, Arkansas, In 1876, and is the wife of Mr. Sanford Cowan. When I saw Mr. Cowan and his wife, they lived one mile northeast of Oneta Post Office, Indian Territory. The coverlet is known as the Missouri Trouble and the coloring is principally of indigo. Mrs. Cowan’s mother was raised an orphan. Her mother died in 1839 and she lived many years with William and Elizabeth Hankins, her grandparents on her mother’s side. They lived on the mountain 4 miles south of Wesley and Mrs. Elizabeth Hankins wove this coverlet in Madison County in 1852 when her daughter, Mary Ann, was 14 years old. It was greatly prized by Mary Ann and after she was married to Charley Fritts she was careful to preserve the colors and when it was shown to the author it was clean and the colors looked almost as fresh as if it had just come from the hand loom. Mrs. Cowan informed me that after her and Mr. Cowan were married her mother made her a gift of it as a war souvenier. The coverlet was taken one night in war times by a band of thieves. The story of which was given me by Mrs. Mary Ann Fritts herself in these words.
“The robbers and guerrillas were overrunning the country in Madison County. It was nearly out of the question to gave provision and valuable articles. One night when I was living on our old farm on Richland Creek and near the village of Wesley a party of men rode up to the yard gate and dismounted and part of them entered the house. It was in the worst time of the war and robbery and death hung on every side. It was useless to plead with them to be allowed to save anything for they were bent on take all they could carry off on their horses and as soon as they got into the house they commenced gathering the household that they chose to take away. In fact we were afraid to protest against the plundering of the house for fear they might set the house on fire and we just kept out of their way while they were loading their booty on their horses and started off with it.
Among the articles of bed clothing taken by the band of marauders was the coverlet. The moon was shining bright and we watched the band pass from view followed by the report of gun shots and the distant clattering of horses feet until the sound was out of hearing distance. We were union people and we suffered from the depredations committed by those claiming to be on the southern side but they were not regular confederate soldiers but scoundrels and thieves of the worst type. Fortunately for our family a man of the name of Jim Sizemore who lived 5 miles from us belonged to the federal army and had recently returned home on furlough but it was poor pleasure to try to bewith his family for he was compelled to be on the dodge toprevent falling into the hands of the guerrillas and be shot.This same band of men had visited his house in the earlypart of the night to kill Sizemore and steal what he had,but they failed to catch sight of him for when he heard the noise of the horses feet approaching the house he fled intothe woods where his horse was hitched. Sizemore was well armed and getting his gun and pistols in good shape for shooting and when the robbers took their departure from his house he followed them until they reached our house and stopped on the bluff and riding into the timber away from the road he dismounted and hitched his horse and went down the bluff where my husband, Charley Fritt’s, little mill stood where he crossed the creek on the mill dam and concealed himself behind our blacksmith shop and waited until the robbers were coming out of the house with their stolen stuff and he went back across the creek on the mill dam without being seen by them and ascending the bluff in a different place from where he came down he lay down behind a log and waited for the bandits to pass along the road on the opposite side of the creek from him which lead in close gun shot range from where he was concealed. In a very short time the band of men with their ill gotten gains come riding along boasting in a loud way of what they had stole that night. Just as they got opposite of where Sizemore was behind the log he fired on them then a second and third shot wrang out which caused a precipitate flight of the band in confusion. They were so terribly scared that they urged their horses forward at their best speed, and unburdening their horses of their load of stolen goods as they galloped along and threw them down at the roadside. Mr. Sizemore said that It was very doubtful whether the bullets from his Pistols touched a man of them, “But I nearly laughed outright to see their retreating forms hurrying along the road to get out of range of my shots, It said he. On the following morning we went out and gathered up our beds and quilts and other stuff that the thieves had thrown down when Mr. Sizemore had shot at them and among the articles found was the coverlet which is much prized by my daughter as well as myself. In a few days after this the robbers found out who fired on them from the top of the bluff and they swore they would hunt him down (Sizemore) and kill him at all hazards. They planned many ways to kill him but he was brave and skillfull and eluded all the snares set for him except one and he fell into it and was captured, But fortunately the men that captured him were not personally acquainted with him and they did not recognize him and while the band was countilling together to decide how to dispose of their Prisoner Sizemore seizing an opportune moment Made a dash for liberty and escaped. Shot after shot were sent after him in rapid succession but the bullets did not touch him but they sung close to his ears. As the fleeing man ran at breakneck speed afoot he stopped a moment and faced his enemies and yelled out, “Oh you devils, you had Sizemore in your possession but you did not know him. He’s out of your clutches now. Catch him if you can.” They did try to overhaul him but Sizemore soon got into rough ground where they could not pursue him on horses back and he out raced them and all they could do was to curge their ill luck and let him escape from their hands. Sizemore lived until in 1896 when he died on Richland Creek and is buried in the Ledbetter graveyard on the head of Lawless Creek.”
SAD ACCOUNTS OF THE CIVIL WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
Mrs. Mary Jenkins, widow of W. C. Jenkins who died at Protem Missouri July 29, 1895, was born in Washington County, Tennessee, March 19, 1831. Her husband, W. C. Jenkins, was a prominent preacher of the Christian church and was born in the same county and state, May 16, 1828. He and his beloved wife, who is a devoted Christian, were reared in the same neighborhood in Washington County and were playmates together and were married there January 25, 1849. Three children—Star, George and Elizabeth—were born to them there. In 1856 they left their old home in Tennessee and crossed the father of waters and settled in St. Francis County, Arkansas, where they lived one year and pulled up stakes and recrossed the big river and settled in Barren County, Kentucky, where they remained until the early part of 1860 when they went back to Arkansas where they arrived in Marion County in the month of March and settled land in the Flippin Barrens where the Rock Spring is a mile or more northeast of the railroad town of Flippin. Though the water of the Rock Spring did not flow out in a large volume but it was cold, nice and healthy. Mrs. Jenkins, in mentioning a few names of old settlers who lived near them in the Flippin Barrens, says there were Bill Painter and Parlee, his wife, and Tom Painter whose wife was named Adaline and Houston Painter who married Nancy Jane Denton, daughter of Bill Denton. There were also Joe Lewellen and Billy Reynolds, the last named of which his wife’s name was Annie. Mrs. Jenkins’ husband lies buried in the cemetery at Protem where he died. Their three children that we have mentioned that were born in Tennessee, Star lies buried in the cemetery at Flippin. George married Jane Sanders, daughter of Tom Sanders. Elizabeth is the wife T. H. (Tom) Flippin, son of Hon. W. B. Flippin. In speaking of the hardships in Civil War times Mrs. Jenkins said that there was a family who lived on Lee’s Mountain near a small tan yard their names of which are forgotten. Some of the children that belonged to this family starved to death. These children would cut off small bits from the dry hides and either scorch them on coals of fire or chew and swallow them raw. “This is horrible to think of and repeat the story of these sufferings years after it took place, ” said Mrs. Jenkins.
In relating the destruction of human lives in the Flippin Barrens during that ever memorable conflict she said that a single man of the name of Jim Brown came with her and husband from Kentucky and was living with them. Brown was an unhealthy man and was subject to epileptic fits at a certain period each month. One morning a lot of bushwhackers killed Derl Woods, who lived on the Fallen Ash road. I heard the reports of the guns while they were shooting Mr. Woods. His wife was named Sally and I heard the poor woman screaming while they were putting him to death. After this band of guerrillas had overrun part of the neighborhood they arrived at Jim Jackson’s who lived a quarter of a mile from our house and began to annoy and chase two negroe boys that were at Jackson’s. Mr. Brown was in our house at the time and went out of the house and started to run and the band of men saw him and charged down the lane toward our house and soon overhauled him and shot him to death. One ball took effect in his face, another in the chest and another in the arm. This occurred near an hour before sun down. There were a few scattering men left in the neighborhood who were friends to the south and when the guerrillas retired that evening these friends collected together and put out guards and buried the dead bodies of Brown and Wood in the Flippin graveyard.”
In giving an account of another sad affair In war times Mrs. Jenkins said that there is a bottom on the south side of White River a few miles above old Tolbert’s Ferry that was known as Cave Bottom. It was then called an out of way place and so secluded that it was deemed an excellent spot for the men to hide in on the approach of an enemy. One evening during the winter season while snow covered the ground Shelt Williams, Jack Tate, John Wood, John Tyler and Jim Tyler while in hiding there were attacked by the enemy and Sheit Williams, Jack Tate and John Tyler were killed. Jim Tyler feigned death by falling on his face in the snow after he was slightly wounded and his foes thinking he was really dead did not go to him to make an investigation to see whether life was extinct or not and thus he escaped with his life. John Wood was mounted on a small but resolute mule and its rider compelled the animal to plunge into the ice cold water of the river and swam across to the north shore then he rode the mule a few miles up the river and swam back to the south side again and arrived at our house just before day break. Mr. Wood was bareheaded and nearly froze. The dead body of Williams was hualed home and buried there in a shallow grave. He was buried in the same clothes he was killed in. A few pieces of plank were substituted for a coffin. Jack Tate was buried at Flippin. Do not know where Tyler was buried.
Mrs. Jenkins is a daughter of Joshua and Betsey Davidson. Her parent died in east Tennessee. Mrs. Jenkins related the foregoing account to me at her home one mile east of Protem, Missouri, on Wednesday, September 11, 1907.
VERY CRUEL
By S. C. Turnbo
Among the settlers of the southeast part of Ozark County, Missouri, who came there in the fifties was David Chyle. Among his children is Davis Chyle who was born in Bullet County, Kentucky, August 23, 1840. When Davis was 8 years old his parents moved into Owen County, Indiana, where hie mother whose maiden name was Miss Patience Ritchy, died. After the death of his wife, Mr. Chyle moved to Missouri and settled in Ozark County in 1855 where he married Polly Davis. Mr. Davis Chyle who was 15 years old on their arrival in Ozark County says that his father bought a claim from William Russell who lived on the north side of Big North Fork 12 miles from Rock Bridge. This land is known now as the Ambrose Cobb place. After living here three years he swapt places with William Browning who lived on Bryant Creek 4 miles from us and moved there. Mr. Chyle said that they done their milling at a little mill on Spring Creek 12 miles from home. This mill was known as the “Breakdown Mill” and was owned by Henry Spears. Mr. Chyles says that he remembers the names of a few settlers Who lived on Big North Fork when his father moved there. These were Miles Russell, whose wife was named Malinda, Press McClary and Clark McClary, who were brothers, the wife of the first named was Eliza, Isaac Workman and Annie Workman, his wife, Jack Smith, a son in law of Workman’s. There were also the two of the James—Johny and Bennette. The latter was a bachelor and Jemima was the wife of the first named. Mr. Chyle said that when the war come up he espoused the cause of the union and enlisted in the first Arkansas cavalry regiment, Col. Harrison commanding. His first captain was R. R. Travis. This officer was succeeded in the command of the company by Capt. William Johnson. His last company commander was John B. C. Turman. He said that he remembers going to school to Milton Smith a few years before the beginning of the war. The school was taught near Big North Fork. Mr. Chyle gives an account of the horrible death of his father in war times. He said that one day a bunch of mounted guerrillas who claimed to be southern men rode up to our house and compelled my father who was 6o years old to go with them. They also made a half brother of mine named Henry and another boy of the name of Manpus and another boy of the name of Sam Sanders accompany them. The bushwhackers had also captured Jim Martin and Johnny Allcorn and made the men and boys all go along together and after crossing Big North Fork to the South side the guerrillas released the boys and told them to go back home, and after conducting my father and the other two men to a flat of land known as the pigeon roost where they shot them to death. The spot where they were killed was close to where a lot of wild hogs lay of nights and the hogs discovered the dead bodies and destroyed them. There was nothing found of them except a few bones and pieces of clothing which lay over a wide space of ground which were collected and buried. It was told that these cruel men cut my father’s heart out after they had killed him but I do not know whether it was true or not. My father was a large man weighing 200 pounds. Continuing to recite the awful bloody scenes of war days, Mr. Chyle said that shortly before his father was killed the guerrillas hung two men in their neighborhood of the name of Jesse James and Wilse Brown. James wife who name was Elizabeth was a small woman but she carried the body of her dead husband home on a horse. James lived on Big North Fork and it was two miles from where he was hung. My father assisted the poor grief stricken woman to bury her man which was done at her home. My father said that it was strange how this devoted wife managed to lift the lifeless form of her husband upon the horse and convey it home in this way. Mr. Brown was a hump shouldered man and those wicked fellows just before they put the rope around his neck tied his feet together leaving a few inch slack and after they pulled him up they placed the small end of a log between his feet where it rested on the tie rope. It was told that they said in a mocking way, “We do this to weight him down to straighten his back.” “We should be thankful that the cruel war is over, ” said Mr. Chyle.
SHOCKING AND CRUEL
By S. C. Turnbo
In relating horrible incidents of Civil War times as they occurred in Madison County, Arkansas, Mrs. Mary Ann Fritts, widow of Charley P. Fritts, furnished the writer with the following account.
“Monroe Christian and Rhoda Christian, his wife, lived on Richland Creek. They had 4 sons and 3 daughters, the names of the sons were Joe, Jim, Henry and Thomas, that of their daughters were Eliza, Nancy and Annie. Mr. Christian was a soldier in the union army and had come home on a leave of absence to remain with his family a few days and return back to his command, but that visit proved to be his death for one night while he was thinking he was comparatively safe a band of guerrillas surrounded the house to take him alive and kill him at their leisure. Knowing that it was certain death to be captured alive he attempted to run the gauntlet of men and guns, but was shot to death before he got out of the door yard. His poor grief stricken wife was so shocked at seeing husband shot down in her presence that she was Prostrated and sank into death in 24 hours after her husband was killed. The women and a few very old men dug two graves in Lawless hollow and the bodies of man and wife were laid to rest in them never more to be disturbed by the rumors and horrors of bloody warfare.”
OLD TIME EVENTS
By S. C. Turnbo
In the cemetery at Protem, Missouri, is a grave with the following words and figures: “W. H. (Bill) Tackette One of the Mountain Meadow Survivors. Born January 20,1856 aged 35 years, 6 months and 6 days.” Mr. Tackette was too young to remember anything about that terrible massacre on the 18 of September, 1857. But his brother, Milam Tackette, who was a year or more older than he could remember some of the horrible incidents of that blood curdling affair. One of the harrowing scenes that he could call to mind was that he saw one of the murderers of these helpless imigrants pursue his mother to the hind end of a wagon and there strike her down and kill her with an instrument by hitting her on the back of the head with it. The murdering of these men and women and the children that was large enough to tell about it was a horrible affair and the people of the United States will never forget it.
Bill Tackette married Miss Viney Harris, daughter of Mr. E. E. Harris, who died near Protem and is buried in the cemetery there. Mr. Tackette and his wife lived a number of years on Shoal Creek just above the town of Protem.
Charley Stallcup and his wife fell victims to this awful massacre. Stallcup’s wife was Winnie Wood, daughter of George Wood who owned the mill at the Big Spring on East Sugar Loaf Creek. A number of years before the Mountain Meadow massacre Stallcup lived in the old Rube Denton house at the Bucks Shoals Ford on White River in what is now Keesee township in Marion County, Arkansas. It was told by a some of the settlers that Charley Stallcup was with George Coker when he went to Jake Navels house to kill him. Cage Hogan had come to Mr. Navels to warn him of danger and had just left when Coker and Stallcup come. When Coker rode up he made his horse leap over the yard fence into the door yard. Then he made his horse go on to Navels porch and Nave warned him to ride off of the porch and Coker refused then Nave took hold of the bridle rein and lead the horse off. Nave was a widower then. His wife, Mrs. Sally Nave, died a year or more before, leaving several little children and Mr. Nave put the children up on the bed to prevent Coker from running over them with his horse. As soon as Nave lead the horse off the porch Coker forced the horse back on the porch and rode him into the house and Nave lead him out. At this Coker drew his pistol to shoot Nave but the latter was prepared and shot Coker twice before he could shoot Nave and he fell from his horse dead. In the meantime Stallcup had hid in the chimney corner and When Coker fell Nave run around the house to hunt for him but Stallcup was gone. Nave killed Coker with a 7 shot pepper box revolver, and he marked the two barrels that the balls were shot from that he killed Coker with. Mr. Nave lived at the Big Spring in what is now known as the Jake Nave Bend on White River in Boone County, Arkansas. Nave had many friends and he lay concealed in the White River bluffs many days before the excitement of Coker’s friends died out. Navels friends were true to him and carried him provision where he was concealed. Nave stayed in the bluff at the mouth of Shoal Creek a number of days where he never lacked for anything to eat. He also remained in the bluff several days on the west side of Little North Fork from the mouth of Spring Creek where John and Abe Nave, his brothers, and others befriended him.
THEY TORE UP ALL THE FRACTIONAL MONEY
By S. C. Turnbo
One of the old time citizens who lived in Cole County, Missouri, in the ante belum days was James Stevens and Mary Ann Stevens, his wife. Mr. Stevens died in Cole County and is buried in the Lucinda Amos graveyard 3 miles west of Russellville. After the death of Stevens his widow married Joe Bennette and they moved to Marion County, Arkansas, where they both died. Their mortal remains lie in the cemetery at Protem, Missouri. Among Mr. Stevens’ sons is Frank, who was born in Moniteau County, Missouri, February 21, 1855. Frank’s parents were living in Cole County when the war broke out and he was old enough to remember money of the incident of war times that come under his observations or near where he was. “One day,” said he, “while the Civil War was going on my two sisters, Rhoda and Clara, and my brother, Bill, while in company with Miss Sarah Shackles and Enoch Shackles and Minus Farris and Sam Amos went to the South Moreau River 6 miles south of High Point to pass off time. After the party had stood at the edge of the water for some time which was at the ford of the river they left the water’s edge and followed the road up the bank where on top of it they met a bunch of robbers unexpectly. Farris and Amos were grown. The other two boys were small. Minus Farris was in front and they made him pull off his boots, hat and give up his pocket book. Then they compelled Amos to do the same as they had made Farris do. When they opened the pocket books they found several small shin plasters such as 10, 15, 20 and 25 cent bills, which they tore into small bits and threw the scraps down into the road. The robbers did not dismount from their horses and just before they took their departure they made the two young men come close up to them and two of the bandits pulled off their old slouched hats and put them on the young fellows’ heads and put their hats on and rode off. The robbers did not molest none of the other party. On the following day a number of people visited the spot where the boys had been robbed the day previous and picked up a number of pieces of the torn up money.”
AS BRUTAL AS SAVAGES
By S. C. Turnbo
An old veteran soldier who fought on the union side and was a member of Co. I, 2nd Mo. light artillery and who helped defend Springfield, Missouri, from an attack made on the town by Gen. Marmaduke’s confederate forces on the 8 of January, 1863. The name of the veteran we allude to is A. C. (Alph) Mullenax and when Springfield was attacked his command had charge of fort no. 4 on the south road. Mr. Mullenax gives an account of a horrible torture and death during the Civil War which he told in this way.
“Joe Cooper, son of George Cooper, lived on Grand Prairie 13 miles northwest of Springfield. One day in winter time during the war a party of armed men taken Joe Cooper out into the timber bordering the prairie and put him to death in a cruel manner. He was found dead 3 days afterward with his toe nails and fingernails pulled out and his eyes had been gouged out. His remains were found in a thick cluster of timber where the black crime was committed. It was supposed that the brutal men tried to compel the unfortunate young man to reveal the whereabouts of his father’s money. There were no other marks of violence found on his body except there mentioned. Cooper was a young unmarried man. Mr. Mullenax said that the finding of Cooper’s mutilated body aroused great indignation against the young man’s murderers who were supposed to be southern bushwhackers and a number of men in that locality took sides with the union at once and enlisted in the Federal army.” Mr. Mullenax said that he was discharged from the federal army at St. Louis, Missouri, at the close of the war.
EXTERMINATED BY THE AWFUL BUSHWHACKERS
By S. C. Turnbo
Among a number of accounts of destructions of life by the guerrillas of southern Missouri during the dark dismal days of the bloody war between the states none have impressed me more than the following narratives as given me in some letters written me by Mr. John D. Row of Arlington, Washington. The account is contained in three letters written by him to the writer. One is dated August 25, 1906, another is dated May 19, 1907, and the other September 16, 1907. The narratives in the three letters are combined together.
Mr. Row written that his father’s name was Jacob Johnson Row. His mother’s name was Julia Ann (nee Winter) Row. “Father was born in 1826. Mother was born in 1828. They had seven children born to them, the names are Samuel Hamilton, born in 1850, John David (myself), born in 1851, Mary Elizabeth, born 1853, William Jesse born 1954, Benjamin Franklin Winter, born 1856, Jacob Johnson born 1859, Abraham Lincoln, born in 1861. My sister married Rowley H. Lewellen but she is a widow now. In the year 1857 my father and mother moved from the state of Indiana into Missouri and located in St. Clair County one mile northeast of Chalk Level Post Office and about 9 miles northwest of Oceola, the county seat of St. Clair. When the war broke out my father sympathized with the union but owing to a chronic complaint that he was affected with he was not able to enlist in the federal army. He was outspoken in defense of the stars and stripes and often expressed that he loved his country and his God. These expressions in regard to his love for the union caused a certain element in the lower strata of humanity to seek his life, after the war was in progress a few months. He had some neighbors that were noble men, men whose politics were all out of harmony with father’s, who often saved him from the assassins hand. I will here give the names of three of them. Their homesteads adjoined that of father’s. Dr. Wm. M. Cox, Doctor Garnette and Thomas Dark, and having been duely warned by his friends that he would have to look out for himself, he left home and went to Kansas, 60 miles west of where we lived. My mother learned afterward that he went to a man’s house in Kansas who had moved from near our house a couple of years before the war come up. When he got there he found three other men there who lived near our home in Missouri who had left home for the same reason father had. These men were two brothers named Boots and another, named Christian Hoover. They and my father remained near 6 weeks in Kansas. The U. S. mail was discontinued in that part of the country and they could not hear from their families. In the presence of the woman of the house where they were boarding, they laid their plans how they would manage to make their way back home to their families. Father owned a fine riding mare and had ridden her to Kansas. The other three men had walked. When they had arranged their plans “Chris” Hoover was to ride father’s mare home and the other two men and father were to go in a skift down the Osage River and thus make their way home. Hoover lived 4 miles beyond our house. He was to leave the mare at our house, report to mother how father was coming, and walk on home. This he never done. I presume that Mr. Hoover was honest in his intentions when he entered into the contract as stated above; but it is very likely that the great adversary of all that is good, true and beautiful in men, met with him as he rode along his lonely way in the darkness of the night, and by the time he had arrived near our house, near day light, his mind was filled with a very strong desire to possess that mare. A day or so after this my mother told me and my brother, Samuel, to yoke four of our oxen and hitch them to the wagon and we loaded in part of our effects into the wagon and mother and we children started to Kansas to hunt for father. This was in 1862 and I was in my llth year. I was the second oldest child and Samuel the oldest was not quite 12. When we arrived in Kansas we learned the facts as I have stated. After waiting and making all the inquiries we could about father for several weeks mother and we children boarded a freight train and went to Indiana where father and mother use to live. We stayed there until the fall of 1869 when we left Indiana and went back to our old home in St. Clair County, Missouri. We arrived at our old home on a Tuesday. On the following Sunday mother left me with the smaller children while she and the larger ones went to see some of her ante bellum neighbors. While she was absent an old man and lady come to our house to see mother on some business and before they left he told me the following story. He had come to that country in 1866 and bought a farm my father had owned and sold before the war began. A land agent took him and showed the land to him and while they were riding over the land looking at it the agent told him that a man by the name of Row had entered that land and bought it from the government, that after the war had come on Mr. Row went to Kansas and there fell in with some of his neighbors, one of which rode his mare home and made up a gang of guerrillas and went and waylaid him and two other men that were with him in a skift. The agent did not tell him who rode the mare home. The days, months and years kept coming and going until the year 1895. Mother and her family had left Missouri. Some were in Sumner County, Kansas, while I was in Kingfisher County, Oklahoma. My oldest brother, Samuel H. Row, made a trip back to St. Clair County, Missouri. while there he met one of father’s old friends, Doctor Garrette, who give him the following account. The doctor said that he had been on a horseback trip Into Dade and Cedar Counties, Missouri, on business. The weather was cold and he stopped at a country store to warm his feet. While doing so he heard several war stories told by several men who were sitting in the store house. One was the account of the killing of my father. The man who told it said that he was one of the participants. There were six of them and had camped on the bank of the Osage River near Rockville in Vernon County, Missouri, and after staying there four days father and the other two men come along in the skift. They were on the far side of the river rowing downstream. It was near meal time and the men on the bank had a meal Just ready to eat. They hailed the men in the skift, made friends with them and invited them to stop and get something to eat. At first they declined the invitation but after some more friendly persuasions, they rowed their boat across the river to where the men were. As the boat touched the shore the 6 men on the bank some 20 feet from the edge of the water showed evidence of not being friends and made ready with their guns, the three men in the skift rose to their feet at once with their weapons, an army musket, a double barrel shotgun and a navy revolver, In their hands. The guerrillas fired first and of course had to fire down the bank at the occupants in the skift. But neither one of the men in the boat was disabled if hit. They now fired up the bank at the bandits and killed three of them. They had emptied their guns and before they could reload them the guerrillas fired again and killed the two men with father and they dropped into the river and their bodies sank from view. My father being defenseless leaped into the river and swam to the opposite shore without apparently getting hit from the firing of the other three men at him. But when he reached the bank and had got out of the water and was trying to climb up the bank one of the remaining three guerrillas of the name of Ben Looney fired across the river at him and he plunged into the river and was seen no more by them. They supposed the shot either killed him, or disabled him so he drowned.” Mr. Row says that his father may have been missed and jumped back into the water to avoid other shots and dived and swam and got away. “It would be natural” wrote he, “that as soon as his assailants saw him fall into the water and sink, they would turn their attention to their dead comrades.” Mr. Row thinks that his father being in great trouble of mind on account of the Civil War and being afraid that his wife and children would be deprived of food and wearing apparel was partly deranged when his companions were killed and that when he plunged into the water after swimming across the river and believing that he escaped and become entirely deranged and wandered off and bases his belief from some dreams of his widowed sister, Mrs. Mary Elizabeth Lewellen. Here is how Mr. Row wrote.
“The days and months and years kept passing on and last year I got a letter from my sister which I will quote from. She is mother’s third oldest child and was at Kansas City when she wrote the letter.” “You know I was near 8 years old when the war come up.
I remember plainly the last time I seen our father. He was standing with one foot in the stirrup talking to mother, and was ready to go to Kansas. Well, when we lived in Indiana, I do not believe there was more than two months at a time all the time we lived there but what I dreamed of him, and it was always almost the same. He was dressed like I remember before going away, in a striped jacket and plain dark pants, and in his shirt sleeves. He was every time I seen him in my dream, standing on the double tree of a wagon, an old like wagon. The end of the wagon tongue rested on the ground, and he had his right hand up shading his eyes and looking off, away off, and seemed all the time to be wearied and perplexed. I was always so sorry. Mother was always standing by me, and I would look at father then at mother but neither spoke, and mother did not seem to see him and he would always be looking toward us not at us but over us. Then after I and Rowly Lewellen were married and out two little girls were born to us and while we lived in the little log house on our stepfather’s place in St. Clair County, Missouri, I still had them dreams and it seemed like I must go and hunt the place. When we lived in Clinton, Henry County, Missouri, I read in a Little Rock, Arkansas, paper about a man dieing there in the suberbs of Little Rock that had lived in a wagon ever since the war. He never told his name nor where he had lived; but was always looking away off as If in a dream. The paper stated that he had on homemade clothes that he had worn for years. I have never dreamed of father since I read that account.” Mr. Row goes on to say that he received the letter from his sister on the 26 of July, 1906, and that one day in the following month of August he received another letter from his sister and quotes the following from it.
“Dear Brother John, Yours of July 17 at hand. I was glad to hear from you, and also glad for what you wrote about our father. Although you know we have heard some of the same before, but about Chris Hoover killing father, I never heard that. I understood that Ben Looney did kill him. Ben Looney did live down somewhere close to the Osage River but lived in Appleton City when we lived near Chalklevel. Chris Hoover I think it was that told mother that Ben Looney fired the shot that caused him to fall back into the water. I have all my life since the war felt like we ought to hunt for father, but you know how it was with us, we did not know what to do.”
DEPRIVING CHILDREN OF THE LAST MORSEL OF FOOD
By S. C. Turnbo
Osage County, Missouri, borders the south shore of the Missouri River. It is the next county below Cole County and is the third county west of St. Louis County. The Gasconade River flows through the southeast part of it. Mrs. Annie Long, wife of Willie Long, related the following account to me in the Indian Territory one day in 1906. said she, “I am a daughter of Jacob E. Hufstealer. My grandmother’s maiden name was Polly Ann Cox and she married Bailiff West, my grandfather. Among their children was Mary Jane West who when she was grown married Jacob E. Hufstealer. These are my father and mother. My grandfather, Bailiff West, and his wife owned a large farm on the public road on Painter’s Creek, a tributary of the Gasconade River. Their farm was situated near the town of Linn, the county seat of Osage County. A large number of people traveled over this road during the great conflict between the north and south. Part of them who passed over this road were irregulars or in other words were bushwhackers, robbers, horse thieves, and would steal almost any kind of property they could lay their hands on. They would stop on their way and rob houses of provision, beds and wearing clothes. My grandparents were troubled a great deal by these wicked men. Grandfather dared not stay at home for fear of being murdered. The war brought great destitution and suffering to numbers of women and children in Osage County especially for the need of bread. ” Mrs. Long in repeating accounts of the hardships that her grandparents encountered in Osage County in war days said that her mother informs her of a sad experience they had with robbers one day. “I was Just 10 years old and I had two little brothers named Jim and Albert that were younger than I was, ” said my mother. “I also had a baby sister named Nancy but she was old enough to walk and talk a little. One forenoon we were all begging my mother for bread for we were all very hungry, There was only meal enough in the house for one mess and we did not know where we could procure anymore. It was hard to bear in listening at hungry children cry for something to eat especially if you have but little to offer them. A mother’s heart sinks in despair when she is not able to furnish them enough to eat to satisfy their hunger. Mothers in war days have shed many hot tears at the terrible thought of their children being on the brink of starvation and this was the case with my mother and we children and while we were crying for bread my mother made up what meal she had into dough and made it into pones with her hands and put it into a hot skillet them placed the heated lid on it and heaped live coals of fire on the lid to bake the bread in a hurry so that she could divide the bread among us. But Just before the dough was half cooked a band of armed men rode up to the Yard gate, halted and dismounted and come into the house. They were rough and rude and unmannerly fellows and when the noticed the skillet they kicked the lid off and snatching case knives from the table they gouged the partly cooked dough out of the skillet onto the hearth then beat and stamped it to pieces and raked it into the fire. My mother and we children begged and cried to them not to destroy all we had to eat but they turned a deaf ear and went out of the house and mounting their horses galloped away.” Mrs. Long said that her grandfather and grandmother were buried on this same farm.
HORRIBLE AND PATHETIC
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. Levi Sallee, a brother of Capt. James H. Sallee, furnished the writer the following pathetic account. “It was in the fall of the year 1861. The war was growing hot. Marauding bands were passing to and fro through the country. Murder and robbery was getting to be common. We were living on Pond Fork in Ozark County, Missouri, where Igo Post Office is now. One day 100 men who claimed to be Southerners come down the creek and as the men rode by our house 30 of them stopped. The other 70 men made no halt but rode on down the creek. Part of the men that stopped at our house were very inquisitive and boisterous. There was a strange man at our house of the name of Robertson. This man was not a federal soldier but he wore a federal uniform overcoat. As the 30 men approached the yard gate this man Robertson and my brother, Henderson Sallee, who was 15 years old left the house on a run. My brother ran by our spring of water and up the hillside above the spring some 75 yards where he fell from a gunshot wound from a shot gun, but was not killed outright. Several shots were fired at him and he was wounded in the back from the contents of a shotgun. He had ran southwest from the house. Mr. Roberts, who was sick, ran south and when he was near 60 yards from my brother he stopped on the side of the hill to look back and feeling tottery from the effects of sickness he took hold of a grape vine to assist him to stand when a bullet from a carbine gun in the hands of one of the men hit him in the side under the arm. I actually saw the ball strike him. It was the most dreadful time I ever encountered in that awful period of war and angry times. While my brother was running and while the men was shooting at him and Mr. Roberts we were pleading for the life of Henderson and Mr. Roberts. I was then only a little boy or they would have shot me too. My sister, Ollie Ann, was crying and begging to the men who were doing the shooting to not be so inhumane as to slay her brother, that he was nothing but a boy and was not old enough to take part in the war and he had done nothing to deserve death. At this moment a young man who was something near 20 years of age stepped forward and threatened to shoot my sister when the man who had just shot Roberts interfered and told him that he must not kill the girl and made him desist and compelled him to quit abusing her and would not let him take anything out of the house. Then the heartless young coward replied that he knew what he could do and that he intended to shoot that dead man and wounded boy again and walked up to where the dead body of Roberts lay and shot it in the region of the heart with a pistol and then he shot my wounded brother in the temple and the ball made its exit in the middle of the forehead, stripped the dead man Roberts of his overcoat and pants. Just after this the men mounted their horses and rode on down the creek in the direction the other men had went. Though my brother was yet alive but we knew it was only a question of a few hours before the death angel would relieve his sufferings. We carried him and the dead body of Roberts to the house and at the break of day on the following morning my poor brother breathed his last. Jim Merritte and Dave Marsh dug a grave with two vaults in the graveyard on the Ed Welch place on the creek below where we lived. This cemetery was known then as the Billy Stone graveyard, and the body of my brother was placed in one vault and the body of Roberts in the other. The first burial in this graveyard was that of a little boy, son of Billy Stone, who lived there then. His father and brother had went across the creek to the field to work and the child had attempted to cross the creek on a foot log to follow them but fell off into the water and was drowned. The little boy was not old enough to wear pants and had on a dress. This was many years before the Civil War occurred.”
A HOUSE BURNER SNATCHES A WOMAN’S BONNET OFF HER HEAD
AND TOSSES IT INTO THE FLAMES
By S. C. Turnbo
In giving the sad experience of his mother in war times Mr. William Robinson, who was born and partly reared in Pulaski County, Missouri, said that 8 years after the death of his father, Mr. Pleasant Robinson, his mother, Mrs. Rhoda Robinson, married a man of the name of Patric Moore. Her second marriage occurred in 1858 when I was 12 years old. Very soon after Mr. Moore and my mother had married they moved into Wright County, Missouri, and settled on the high land between Elk and Stevens Creeks. We lived here until after the war broke out when my step-father raised a company of union men and took part in the battle of Wilson Creek. Soon after the battle and while the southern troops held possession of Springfield Capt. Moore was stationed part of the time at Lebanon in Laclede County. One day while he and his men were at Lebanon a party of horsemen galloped up to our house and with oaths and threats swore they intended to burn the house down. My mother and my two little half-sisters, one of which was 6 years of age named Missouri, the other was Nancy who was 4 years old, were all the ones that were present. These men claimed to be Southerners but I suppose they were robbers and if I mistake not the confederate authorities had small sympathy for marauders and house burners of either side. They nearly all dismounted and were busy in making ready to put their threats into execution. It was a sad day for my dear mother and her two helpless children. She at first pleaded with the men not to destroy her house for it was the only shelter she had. The destruction of it would cast her and her little ones out of doors with nothing to live on and nothing to protect them from the inclement weather.
But with all the piteous begging to these roughfians to save her house her pleading reached stony hearts only. They cared nothing for the suffering of women and starvation of children, war was war and war meant death to men and destruction to property and they were out to burn and steal and they were only following their occupation and with merciless words they informed her that it was useless for her to ask them to desist for they intended to destroy the house and all its contents, and they proceeded to set the dwelling on fire. Knowing now that she was contending against robbers, theives, and men of desperate characters and while they were cursing and abusing her with harsh words she quit talking to them in a humiliating manner and become greatly angered at them and told them they were nothing but mean wretches. She stood off several yards from the burning building. Her two children were clinging to her dress tail crying and sobbing as if their hearts were broken. Mother with tear stained cheeks were hurling cutting words at the heartless men until one of them ran up to her and snatched her bonnet off her head and with a boastful laugh tossed It into the flames. The others cheered this satanic man in humane form finding that it was useless to remain longer she picked up her two children and turned her face toward Lebanon which was more than 20 miles away, and started off leaving the thieves and marauders to exult over their heathen work and after a tedious and tiresome journey for she was compelled to carry Nancy nearly all the way she arrived at her destination and reported the loss to my stepfather.
THE MARAUDERS THREW TWO CHILDREN
ON THE FLOOR IN SEARCH OF BOOTY
By S. C. Turnbo
On many occasions little children suffered from ill treatment from robbers while they were plundering houses in war times. We have gathered information of this kind from several sources.
Mr. J. N. (John) Whitfield, who was born at Calico Rock in Izard County, Arkansas, in the beginning of the war informed me one day in the Creek Nation that he underwent an experience of this sort just as the war was closing. Mr. Whitfield Is a son of John and Marina (McCloud) Whitfield. His father was a confederate soldier and served in the army east of the Mississippi River. I was too young to recollect anything about the war except the last year of it when there were many things occurred which I can remember all about it. Some months before its final ending while father was off in the army my mother took us children and moved into Wood Ruffe County where we stopped some 16 miles northeast of Augusta. The locality where we stopped was known as Bowens Ridge which took Its name from Tom Bowen who was an early settler there. We had a few things that we desired very much to carry through till peace was made for we knew we would need them. Among these articles was a few small tools that belonged to a blacksmith shop which we were very careful to keep well concealed. Mother kept the least ones between the straw and featherbed ticks that we children slept on. Robbers and soldiers passed our house every day sometimes they would stop and search the house and take a few things and go on. Then again they would not stop. One day a reckless outfit of men rode up to the yard gate and got down off of their horses and walked into the house and began searching everything worth carrying off.
They were abusive and while mother was protesting against the outlaws they cursed her and told her to shut her mouth for they would take what they pleased if they could find anything they wanted.
I and my little brother Loranzo was sick and we were both lying on the bed that the tools were hid in. After they had got all they wanted that was in sight, one man stepped to the head of the bed and he told another man to go to the foot of the bed and they both took hold of the featherbed and raised it up and threw it with us onto the floor with such slight courtesy that I and Lonzo thought they were going to kill us. when they did this the tools were exposed to view and they all snatched them up and picking up their stolen stuff got out of the house and mounting their horses and rode away.
Mr. Whitfield said that his father lies buried in the cemetery at the mouth of Clear Creek that flows into Crooked Creek (in Boon County, Ark.). His mother Who died in Woodruff Co., Ark., is buried the McGreggory graveyard 16 miles north east of Augusta.
BRUTAL TREATMENT OF A WOMAN AND HER SON BY BANDITS
BY S. C. Turnbo
A large number of people who lived on the Buffalo Fork of White River did not escape the ravages of war. Men, woman and children underwent some of the worst tortures. A number of people concealed part of their household goods and provision in the secluded spots of the mountains. They did likewise with their money if they had any on hand worth taking pains to put it in a place of safety. Mrs. Sarah Drake, daughter of Marion and Sarah Fowler, and who was born in the valley of the Buffalo River relates a blood curdling story of a band of brutal fiends who visited the house of a man of the name of Baker who lived on a stream called Bear Creek which runs into Buffalo from the south side. This is in Searcy County, Arkansas, and Mr. Baker lived below Lebanon and near where Mr. Neser Arnold’s mill and gin is. Mrs. Drake said, “If I mistake not Mr. Baker’s wife’s name was Nan. She had two daughters named Josie and Bias and two sons named Jim and Calvin. These children except Jim were small when the war was going on. One night while Mr. Baker and Jim was away from home, the band of heartless men rode up to the yard gate and dismounted and walked into the house and with threats and oaths they attempted to compel Mrs. Baker and Calvin to tell of the whereabouts of their money and other valuables which they refused to do. They then proceeded to whip the faithful woman with a drawing chain and hung Calvin by the toes to a joist in the house. Mrs. Baker was beaten almost to death with the chains before the brutes let up and Calvin suffered intensely before they let him down. In the meantime one of the men filled a sack full of tobacco in the twist and took it out and tied it to his saddle on the horse. Others carried the beds out into the wood yard where their horses was hitched and after the boy Calvin was set free he crept out of doors and seeing a chance without being observed and with a small knife he ripped the bottom of the sack open that held the tobacco, and when the thieves had done all the inqury in their power without entirely killing any of the members of the family they tied the bed ticks to the horses tails then ripped one end open and mounted their horses and started off in a gallop and strewed feathers and tobacco all along the road until the bed ticks were exhausted of their feathers and the sack was empty of tobacco. The bandits did not stop at this but finally killed Mr. Baker and his son Jim in a cruel manner. Mrs. Baker who had partially recovered from the terrible ordeal of being whipped with the chain had her husband and son buried under a large apple tree that stood in the corner of the orchard. After the close of the war she had the two graves and the apple tree enclosed with paling. Mrs. Baker bore ugly scare on her body, head and limbs to the day of her death and was subject to spasms that attacked her after she had underwent the brutal treatment inflicted on her by the bushwhackers and cutthroats. Mrs. Baker when her death occurred received interment in a graveyard on the bank of Bear Creek.”
THE BANDITS WHIPPED HIM, HUNG HIM
AND TORTURED HIM WITH FIRE
By S. C. Turnbo
The following account of a man being tortured for his money in war times was told me by Mr. Rila Mullen who said that William Cranfield lived on Big North Fork at the mouth of Pigeon Creek. He was industrious and had accumulated considerable property and a sum of money. Mr. Cranfield had married a daughter of the old man Tribbets in North Carolina and when Mr. Cranfield and his wife moved to Arkansas his father in law who was a well to do man brought him family and came with him and settled on Pigeon Creek one mile from where it enters Big North Fork in what is now Baxter County, Arkansas. Both these families were early settlers there. Mr. Tribbets owned a large amount of property and several hundred acres of land and he divided a part of it with his children giving each one 80 acres apiece. Tribbet had two sons named Tom and Isaac. Both families were hard working people. One night during the Civil War a band of robbers attacked Cranfield’s house and got into the building and proceeded to inflict painful tortures on Mr. Cranfield to try to compel him to give up his money to them or tell where it was. They whipped him severely on his naked back then they hung him until he was almost dead and finding they were unable to force him to reveal to them the whereabout of it by that means, they now raked live coals of fire out on the hearth and forcably held the old man’s feet on the coals until he suffered untold agonies before they set him free. Mr. Cranfield had made all the efforts in his power to remain at home and live in peace but knowing now that he could not, he as soon as he was able to travel after he had been so horribly treated by the bandits he went to Jackson County, Arkansas, where he remained until after the close of the war and returned to his old home on Big North Fork and remained there until in 1897 when he died and was buried in the Tribbet graveyard on the old Tribbet farm on Pigeon Creek.”
SIMPLY HORRIBLE
By S. C. Turnbo
One among the oldest citizens who lived on the right bank of White River in what is now Crocket township, Marion County, Arkansas, when the war between the states broke out was Ned Coker. Mr. Coker was intelligent and was a good common sensed man, very prosperous and owned several slaves. The writer has enjoyed many pleasant hours with him for he took pains to give me many incidents that occurred on the upper White River in the long ago. It was supposed by some that he possessed a big sum of gold and silver which was said to be concealed somewhere on his farm or in the near neighborhood, from this cause he was treated very cruel by the bandits that infested the county during the war. Mr. R. S. Holt, whose father, Wm. Holt, owned the river farm on the opposite side of the river from the Ned Coker farm informed me that during the turbulent days of blood and death the bad men stole all of Coker’s horses and cattle except one wild mare as they called her which he managed to keep out of the reach of the desperadoes. One night a band of robbers paid him a personal visit in disguise and demanded his money which he flatly refused to give up. They threatened to do violence to him unless he revealed to them the place where he had hid his gold and silver, but he had a stout heart and a resolution made of iron almost and they found that threats were unavailing to compel their victim to give up his money. And so they proceeded to torture him with fire and inflicted all the suffering and pain they were able to heap on him to force him to yield up his gold but he held out so strong against the awful tortures from their hands that they resorted to other means and they procured a rope and tied one end around the poor old man’s neck and passed the other end of the rope over a beam or other object and pulled him up and tied the rope fast with the intention to leave him suspended until he was dead, but as the bandits turned away from him to take their departure one of the band stopped and stepped back to the hanging and struggling form and cut the rope and he fell to the floor. After the robbers were gone and Mr. Coker had revived he called his faithful slave whose name was Jeff and who was a bow legged Negro to bring up the wild mare and they would make an effort to get into Missouri where there would be some show of receiving protection. The Negro was not long in bringing the mare to his master’s house. The thieves had stolen Mr. Coker’s saddle but the now almost helpless old man by the assistance of his slave mounted the mare bareback and Jeff lead the mare. They traveled night and day and went part of the way where there was no road. Mr. Coker was not able to ride only a few miles at a time when he was compelled to stop and rest and go on again. In this way he rode the mare all the way into Green County, Mo., bareback and Jeff the Negro walked and lead the mare all that distance.”
THEY PRETENDED THAT THE MILK HAD BEEN POISONED
By S. C. Turnbo
“I cannot tell you any war time stories from my personal observations,” said Mr. Jerry Jenkins, “for I was born in the year 1863 and consequently I was too young to remember anything about it, but I have heard my mother say repeatedly that one day during the war period while we lived on Little Beaver Creek in Douglas County, Missouri, 6 men rode up to the house and dismounted and ordered dinner and without taking time to sit down and wait for It to be prepared they began to plunder in the house and lay their hands on all the articles that were movable. My mother said she could hardly put up with this but she had to. ‘I become very stubborn said she, land concluded I would not cook for them for they were nothing more than a band of robbers or guerrillas and did not deserve anything to eat. While they were hunting in every nick and corner of the house for valuables they discovered a lot of pies and sweet cakes that I had cooked and they pounced on them like hungry wolves killing sheep. Seeing that they were determined to help themselves without an invitation I picked up a pitcher of milk and set it down before them. I thought by doing this I would get rid of them sooner. When I put the pitcher down., one of the men pour out a small quantity of the milk into a tin cup and put it to his mouth and tasted it. At this one of the other robbers says, ‘You had better let that milk alone for it might be a job fixed up to poison us all.’ And none of them dare not touch the milk anymore.’”
Mr. Jenkins said that his mother told him that while the band of men was in the house his brother, John Jenkins, who was a little fellow was standing in the yard crying and one of the men threatened to shoot his brains out If he did not quiet his noise. The robber thought the child would attract attention and father or others would come to my mother’s relief and shoot the scoundrels.
I have heard mother also say that one day after this a big flock of wild turkeys passed near the house and she picked up an old musket that was loaded and shot at one of the turkeys and the result was a bunch of guerrillas charged UP to the house and demanded where my father was. They supposed he had come home and was determined to kill him and was greatly surprised at not finding him there. My mother said that this was the first gun she ever attempted to fire.”
A HORRIFYING WAR TIME INCIDENT IN HORSESHOE BEND OF WHITE RIVER
By S. C. Turnbo
One of the citizens of the Ozark region who fell a victim to the ravages of the angry war days was Theodoric Green, father of Mike Green, who settled on the south fork of East Sugar Loaf Creek in the early fifties. I received this account of his death from Mike Green himself, who said that his father was killed in the Horseshoe Bend of White River during the war. He said that the particular details of his were about this way.
“Some few of the settlers in the Horseshoe Bend had concealed some corn in the face of a bluff or rough hollow for safe keeping but they had decided that its hiding place was not safe and the parties that hid the corn hired my father to bring his canoe up the river and assist them to carry the corn across the river and conceal it in a more isolated spot where the eyes of a prowler would be less apt to find it. Other parties had agreed to be on the lookout for an enemy while the men were at work removing the corn in sacks and baskets.
After my father had pushed the canoe up the river to the designated place agreed on by himself and the other men where the corn was to be carried to the bank of the river and Put into the canoe and my father was to take it to the opposite bank of the river and unload it and return back for another load, this was to be repeated until all the corn was carried across, then they were to conceal it. It appears that after my father had landed the canoe and had got out on shore an enemy who was concealed nearby shot him down. The other parties who were to carry the corn to the bank of the river heard the report of the gun, took fright and run away. The bushwhacker seeing that father was dead approached the body and picked it up and placed it into the canoe and set it adrift, the river was swollen a few feet and the craft with its dead and mangled freight was carried downstream rapidly by the current until it lodged against a bunch of willows just above the mouth of Elbow Creek where the canoe was found a few days afterward. But when the canoe had struck the willows it capsized and the dead body of my father was thrown into the water and it floated in the water until it caught against some driftwood between the Elbow Shoals and the mouth of West Sugar Loaf Creek where it hung until the water fell and was discovered one day by Mrs. Lee Ann Brown, widow of Arren Brown. She was a daughter of the old man Rhines. Mrs. Brown notified her brother, John Rhines, and he with the help of his widowed sister and his sister. Miss Mary Rhines, and Mrs. Parlee Brown, wife of John Brown, they lifted the body from the driftwood and placed it on a homemade bed blanket that had been spread on the ground to receive it. The remains were in an advanced state Of decomposition and was difficult to handle. After they had placed the body on the blanket they took up the four corners of the blanket and carried the body to a canoe that had been brought there by Mr. Rhines and placed in it then they covered the remains over with the blanket and pushed the canoe up to the lower end of the bottom where the John Yandell farm is at the mouth of Elbow Creek and landed the canoe a few yards below where the old ware stood and carried the remains to the top of the bank and laid them down and rewrapped them with the blanket. It was now nearly sunset and they had no tools to dig a grave with so they all remained with the body all night and on the following morning they procured an old grub hoe and an old ax and using an old board for a shovel Mr. Rhines and his two sisters and Mrs. Brown dug a grave near where the remains of my father lay, and lifting them up they placed them down in the grave as they had found them only they had wrapped the blanket around them and then they filled the grave in with dirt and marking the grave where it could be found in future Rhines and the women took their departure for their respective places of abode.”
This is only one among hundreds of the awful sad scenes that occurred in the dark days of death and blood among the people who lived on the upper White River.
Mr. Green said that 11 years after the close of the war he decided to have the remains of his father exhumed and have them placed to rest in the graveyard on the river above the mouth of Elbow Creek on what was once known as the Tom Morry place where Uncle Mike Green’s sister, Millie, was buried a few years before the death of her father.
In taking up the remains of his father, Uncle Mike, said that he and John Brown and others made a suitable coffin for the reception of the bones and took it to his father’s grave and exhuming the remains they placed them in the coffin and buried them in the cemetery just mentioned. The apparel that his father had been buried in had all disappeared except the shoes, the buttons on coat, shirt and pants, and some rotten pieces of the blanket.
THE YOUNG MAN WAS TRUE TO HIS BENEFACTOR
By S. C. Turnbo
Hundreds of men proved true and faithful to their charge in war times. These men would rather die than reveal the Thereabouts of a friend that an enemy was hunting to kill. Mr. R. S. Holt of Lead Hill, Arkansas, gives an account of a case of this kind which we give here to show the fidelity of a young man to his benefactor. Mr. Holt said that some years before the war while he was living with his father on the farm just above the mouth of Shoal Creek in what is now Boone County, Arkansas, he started up to Dubuque one morning and he met a stripling boy in the Jake Nave Bend of White River. he was a sickly looking lad and was chilling, bare footed and thinly clothed he said he was an orphan and that he was born In Sharp County, Arkansas, and give his name as Jim Turpin. The boy was a pitiable looking being and seemed to be telling me the truth and I took compassion on the child and brought him home with me and prepared clothes and medicine for him and other attention that he needed until he recovered his strength. As he seemed to be a good hearted boy and true to his word as well as being industrious we kept him with us and I never regretted bringing him home with me and caring for him until he was able to recompense us with labor on the farm. My father died as the war was brewing up and when It did come myself and brothers and the Pumphrey boys, who were living with us, could not remain at home and Jim Turpin being only a boy stayed with the family to assist them with the work. On day at the greatest heat of the war an armed force of the enemy rode up and dismounted and took young Turpin out of the house and made him go behind the barn with them where they demanded of him where myself and Bill Pumphrey were. Of course Turpin did not Know exactly where we were but he knew close about it. But he refused to give them the least benefit of his knowledge. They beat him on his body, head and face until he was badly hurt, but he held out faithful and refused to give them any Information. Then they proceed to hang him for a short while and lower him until he could breathe again, then pull him up again and let him down, before he was dead. It was a terrible ordeal to have to pass through, but he was true grit to the last his neck was badly Injured while being suspended. They would curse him and threatened to Kill him if he did not divulge the whereabouts of I and Bill Pumphrey. Turpin would curse back at them when we was able to talk and told them If he lived to be grown he would have revenge. After they had tortured him in such a barbarous manner some time without forcing him to betray his trust they went off and left him. After the war Mr. Turpin lived at Ash Grove, Mo., and paid us all a visit in 1870. He always seemed more like a brother to me than a stranger, ” said Mr. Holt as he ended the story of this war time incident.
A LEADER OF A SOUTHERN BAND OF MEN ATTEMPTS
TO FORCE A UNION MAN TO JOIN HIS FORCES
By S. C. Turnbo
The great war in the United States from 1861 to 1865 proved the domineering spirit and bad disposition of hundreds of men of both sides where they had an opportunity to show their authority. They were abusive and cruel to those they had in their power. It was not uncommon to meet these overbearing fellows In the armies of both the north and south, but It was usually the case these men did not belong to the regular army, but numbered among the guerrillas and outlaws who carried on an irregular warfare.
One day In the month of August, 1903, I received a letter from L. D. Row of Pruit, Boone County, Ark., dated July 30th giving a story of war days which runs as follows.
J. M. Booth come from near Jonesborrough, Tenn., in 1853. Being then 13 years old he lived with his father, Joseph Booth, on the east side of White River at the mouth of Yocum Creek in Taney County, Mo. in 1860 J. M. Booth married Miss Agnes Russell whose parents lived near Springfield, Mo. They lived together 31 years, raised a family of 7 children, 3 sons and 4 daughters. Like numbers of other old timers of the White River Valley, Mr. Booth has passed through some very interesting and exciting scenes in the forest while hunting game and encountered serious trouble during war times. His father died before the war broke out and he was living on the old farm with his young wife when the bloody conflict began between the states.
In the summer of 1861 about 25 men rode up where he was at work near the house and requested him in no polite terms to join their band. The men were in charge of a rough man. “You must join my company.” said the commander. “I cannot accept your proposition, It said Mr. Booth. “Why not?” yelled the captain. “Well, says Mr. Booth, “my reasons for not enlisting in your company is that you claim to be southern men and you are opposing the government of the United States and I believe in the union of states and cannot afford to go with a company of men who are warring against the stars and stripes.” The remarks were spoken in a mild way but the leader flew into a rage and without further interrogation, he rammed the muzzle of his gun against his breast and shouted, “Now, damn you, join us or I will put daylight through you in a moment.” To this Mr. Booth said, “Sir, you have the advantage of me now and you can pull the trigger when you get ready. I will die rather than join your company.” At this the enraged leader saw that he could not compel the man to enlist in the band through abuse and the influence of the gun and he cooled down for he found that bulldozing made matters worse and tried to reason the case with Mr. Booth and talked to him in a kind way and advised him like a father giving admonition to his son. When Booth would not give way to his pleadings he said, “We are going across the country, and shall be gone about two weeks. When we return if you do not come and join our company I will have my men shoot you on sight.” And thus they left him.
Mr. Booth knew he had met desperate men and was convinced that they would carry their threats Into action unless he joined the company, and he would face death rather than do it. He knew he could not remain at home in safety and he come to a decision at once. His beloved wife was at the house ignorant of what had passed between himself and the commander of the band of man and leaving his work he went to the house and told his wife what had happened and the noble and brave hearted woman was ever ready to protect him with her life if necessary. He informed her that they would have to get out of there for it was impossible for him to remain at home and they would go up north where she would be more safe and he would enlist in the union army. With their hurried conversation he told his wife to prepare provision enough to last 3 or 4 days, get all the household goods in shape to load into the wagon as soon as dark come. They would take part if not all. He had a crib full of old corn and a fine crop of corn just in silk and tassle. To loose this would be a severe loss, but life was at stake and it was more dear to him than a crib of corn and a field of roasting ears. Then if he was killed his poor wife would be left alone to face all the misfortunes and afflictions that would be forced on her and he loved her too well to think of leaving her to battle with the sore trials she would be compelled to meet. As soon as night spread its dark mantle over the hills and valleys they loaded their bedding, wearing apparel and provision into the wagon, yoked a fine yoke of oxen and hitched them to it and soon left their home and what they left there to go to destruction. It was a bad night and a tearful leaving to them but such Is war and its awful results. The weather was warm and cloudy. A heavy rain had fallen the night previous to their departure and the streams were swollen. The oxen moved along slow it seemed to the anxious couple that the cattle traveled as slow as snails and as the wagon wheels run over the rough road It appeared that the jolts and resulting noise could be heard for miles and the man expected to be overtaken by a band of bushwhackers and killed and his dear wife would be left at the mercy of a heartless foe, but they were not molested. Finally they passed the Miliken Bald Hill then they reached Cedar Creek and crossed It in safety. It was daylight when they reached Beaver Creek at the Mat Laughlin ford which they found past fording. They halted near the bank of the creek and waited until the following morning for the stream to run down and still it was not fordable. Mr. Booth and his wife were discouraged. They were satisfied they would be pursued and they decided that they must get away from there. They must either cross the creek or go another direction. Just then they heard the clatter of horses’ feet on another road that lead down to the same ford where they were camped. It proved to be a lone rider and as he galloped up he never halted and rode into the creek and passed over. The water at the deepest place run over the horses’ back but it was only a few feet across the deepest part and Booth and his wife decided at once to attempt to cross over. They tied their clothing and bedding all into one bundle and Booth yoked the cattle and hitched them to the wagon and into the creek they went. The oxen were large and stout and they took the running gears of the wagon to the opposite shore. In the deepest part of the ford the wagon bed floated off the wagon and down it went in a rush with Booth and wife and their effects in it. The preservation of the life of his wife was uppermost in his mind. There was no time for consultation and he leaped into the water and took hold of one corner of the wagon box and attempted to swim to the shore with it. A few rods down stream the creek made a bend where a bunch of sycamore trees stood at the edge of the water from the limbs of which a cluster of grape vines hung down into the water. These vines were about 15 feet from the shore. Then these vines turned from where they were hanging in the water and lead to the shore to where they were growing from the bank above the water. It was evident that Booth could not reach the shore before the current carried him and his wife and the wagon box with its contents into the tangled mass of vines. When he saw this he told his wife to jump Into the water close to him but she must not take hold of him. The brave and trusting woman instantly obeyed and as she struck the water her husband released the wagon box and he caught her and swam with her safely to the shore. The water carried the wagon box swiftly against the cluster of grape vines and held it there until the bottom or floor of the box become detached and floated out. The side pieces of the box by some means closed around together and held the bundle of clothes and bedding securely between them and tore loose from the vines and lodged against a drift a few yards below the sycamore trees. Booth and his wife landed on the same side that the oxen taken the remainder of the wagon out on where they had stopped in the road close to the creek. Man and wife were in sore distress and as they were not able to get their bed clothes and wearing apparel from the drift while the water was up they drove the oxen with what was left of the wagon to an acquaintance who lived only a few miles away and the family furnished them with food, dry clothes and bedding and lumber for a new wagon box. As soon as the water subsided sufficiently, Mr. Booth and his friends fished the bedding and clothes out of the water and carried them to his friends house and dried them. This was all they saved. In a reasonable time they reached Mr. Russells house where Mr. Booth left his wife and went on to Springfield where he enlisted in the federal army. At the close of the war he received an honorable discharge and Is now living on Bee Creek near the line between Boone County, Ark, and Taney County, Mo.”
A PATHETIC STORY OF THE WAR
By S. C. Turnbo
Among many accounts of the suffering and deprivations brought on by the Civil War was told me by Mr. Rila Mullens, a minister of the Christian Church, who said that one day when he was 10 years old or in 1862, while my mother and we children were stopping awhile on South Fork of Spring River 3 miles north of Salem in Fulton County, Ark., I and my two brothers, John and Ben Mullen, in company with Tilman Hatfield, son of Mrs. Al Hatfield and William Hatfield, son of Bald Hatfield, while playing together near the road we saw an ox wagon coming along the road loaded with beds, chairs and other household goods traveling the road going north. The only persons with the wagon was a woman and two little boy children. The oldest child was 5 or 6 years old and the other was just old enough to walk a little. The woman was driving the oxen. I did not know her name nor where she was from or where she was going, but supposed she was going north for protection. About this time we noticed a band of horsemen 4 or 5 in number gallop up behind the wagon and made the woman halt the oxen and the men dismounted and after consulting together a few moments, they unhitched the oxen loose from the wagon and leading the cattle away from the wagon a short distance they set the wagon and its contents on fire and burned it up. The poor helpless woman pleaded so hard with the ruthless bandits to not destroy her bed clothes and wearing apparel for it was all she had, but her pitiable begging fell on deaf ears. They had no mercy, their hearts were of stone and her little possessions were soon consumed by the flames and there was nothing left but cinders and smoke. While the wagon and its contents were burning, the guerrillas put several rigid questions to we boys who were spectators to the destruction of the woman’s outfit. They seemed to want to aggravate us and get us angry enough to say something rough to them so they could kill us but they did not threaten to kill or hurt us. Our ages ranged from 1O to 12 years. The men stayed around the wagon and stirred the fire until the last remnant of the wagon and its contents were entirely destroyed and they now mounted their horses and rode off taking the yoke of cattle with them. The weeping woman picked up the least child and taking the other by the hand went on up the road northward. She was greatly distressed. This was the last we ever saw or heard of her.
IN THE LINE OF SAVAGERY
By S. C. Turnbo
In refering to the horrible scenes enacted by wicked men of war days, Mr. William Sturman, a former resident of Greene County, Mo., now of Brown Branch, Taney County, gives these details of the bloody days. “One day,” said he, “Iverson Jones, a union man and who was a pioneer settler of Greene County, met a party of men in the road near Jones Spring 6 miles east of Springfield and they shot him off of his horse and rode off and left the body where it fell.”
In giving a description of the death and burial of Billy Burton who lived in a hollow 1 ½ miles south of the Lawrence Mill on Beaver Creek. Where he lived is known now as Roosterville. “One day during the heat of the war a party of desperate men met Burton on Little Caney Creek. sometimes called Dry Caney, and shot him to death and scalped him. Among his slayers was Lee Basier, a nephew of Burton’s, and he was the man who so cruelly cut and tore off the scalp from the dying man’s head. Basier carried the scalp off with him. As men were so exceedingly scarce in that section at that time the women took charge of the body and buried it in the woods on a level plot of ground ½ mile west of Caney Creek and 1 ¼ miles south of Big Beaver Creek. Burton’s grave is in a field now. An oak tree was left standing at the grave to mark the spot where Burton, who was a union man, received interment. The ladies who buried Mr. Burton were Mrs. Lottie Allie, wife of Wiley Allie, Mrs. Sallie Roberts, wife of John Roberts, and Miss Lucy Allie, daughter of Wiley Allie. Mr. Sturman said that one day several years after the close of those days of anger while he and others were passing this grave they noticed some of the bones protruding above the top of the ground and they stopped and dug a hole in the top of the grave and placed the bones in It and covered them up. Mr. Burton was killed near where Brown Branch is now.
DEATH OF BILLY HOWARD
By S. C. Turnbo
I am told that old Billy Howard settled several places on White River, Little North Fork and Big Creek. When the war broke out he was living on the last named stream on what is known now as the lower Aaron Quick place in Ozark County, Mo. Mr. Howard, though an old man, talked too much at the beginning of the war and was killed before peace was made.
Mr. George Mahan Informed me that he was killed near where Ava in Douglas County now stands. Mr. Mahan said that his brother, Sam Mahan, who was a stripling boy, was guiding Mr. Howard one day to show him how to pass through that part of Douglas County and during the day they passed a graveyard 3 miles from Ava where some men were burying the dead body of a man. “My brother said that he and Howard did not stop at the graveyard, but after he had left Howard to return back home some of the men who were at the burial followed the old man who was cripling along with a walking stick in his hand and after overtaking him they conducted him into a creek bottom off from the road and shot him down like killing a dog that was guilty of slaying sheep. Poor old man, he was only another victim of the bloody war.
CUT HIS TONGUE OUT
By S. C. Turnbo
One among the horrible accounts of the atrocities perpetrated by guerrillas and other blood thirsty men of war days is this one which was furnished me by Mrs. Elvira Eoff, wife of Mr. Billy Eoff. Mrs. Eoff is a daughter of Jethrey and Nancy Pennywell. She was born in Wilson County, Tennessee, December 29th, 1833. Her father was killed at Granby, Mo. Her mother was found dead in bed. The remains of her father and mother rest In a graveyard near where her father was killed. Mrs. Eoff’s grandfather on her mother’s side was Thomas Whitlock and was born and reared in Virginia. Mrs. Eoff came to the Arkansas River when she was quite young and seen them putting up the first house at Dardanelle In 1844. She came to what Is now Boone County, Ark., in the year 1853 where her and Mr. Eoff were married in a few months after her arrival there. She says that she recollects that Eli King as being the first man who went Into business at Bellfonte. He had a small grocery store there. Soon after this Bill Potts put up a little dry goods store there. In speaking of some of the awful murders and tortures that were enacted in Boone County during war times, Mrs. Eoff related the following. “Dan Wilson, a noted Methodist preacher who lived on the left prong of Crooked Creek, was captured one day with Al Parker, son of Berry Parker, and another man whose name is forgotten and conducted to the edge of the timber near the Huzza Prairie 4 miles from his home. Mr. Wilson was a prayerful man and he prayed all the way from home. His captors tried to make him keep quiet, but he continued his devotions in spite of their threats, when one of the bushwhackers remarked that he could stop his fuss and grabbed him and with the assistance of his partners in crime, he pulled his tongue out and cut part of It off. Soon after this they killed the three men and laid their inanimate forms between two logs and covered them with leaves, chunks and a little dirt. They lay there a few days before they were discovered. Some of the women of the neighborhood taken the fore wheels of a wagon drawn by a yoke of oxen and hauled the dead bodies to the Billy Eoff graveyard 4 miles from Bellfonte and gave them as decent a burial as circumstances would permit. Among the ladies who assisted at this grim work was Pop Max, wife of Lewis Max and sister of Mr. Wilson.”
Mrs. Elvira Eoff died in Taney County, Mo., 3 ½ miles S.E. of Protem May 25, 1907, and was buried in the cemetery at Protem on the evening of the following day after her death.
A SET OF THIEVES
By S. C. Turnbo
The following account of how the writer’s father’s house was ransacked by marauders while he lived on the old George Fritts farm on the left bank of White River in Keesee township, Marion County, Ark., during the terrible strife in the days of war was furnished me by my sister, Mrs. Sally Treadway of Peel, Ark., who said that one night in the month of January, 1865, two men rode up to the yard fence and dismounted. One of them stayed out at the fence to guard the horses and to keep a look out for the approach of friends or foes. The other one come into the house. He was disguised by having his face blacked with some kind of coloring matter which was more than likely pot black. My father and my brothers, Newt and Bubby, was gone. John Payne, who was afflicted with chronic sore eyes, had come there to mend our shoes. Lizzie and Sarah Craton Hogan, daughters of Crayton and Sarah (Trimble) Hogan, were there also. A heavy rain was falling and the night was intensely dark. It was just the kind of a night for thieves and wolves to prowl around. The man when he come into the house cursed and threatened and drove John Payne out of doors and made him stand in the yard while the rain was falling. About the first thing he did toward laying his hands on in the house was to pick up a pint bottle filled with spirits of camphire which he at first supposed was whisky and being disappointed he dashed the bottle down on the floor and broke it into pieces. A box that was painted red which we called a chest was sitting near the wall of the house which was filled with shelled corn and the robber made we children empty the corn out of the box onto the floor. But changing his mind the thief made us pick the corn up again and put it in a sack to feed his horses on. Lizzie and Sarah Crayton helped us pick up the corn and we put all the pieces of glass we could find on the floor and put them in the sack with the corn. The robber now went up in the loft and filled a sack with dried apples and brought it down. Then he taken a pillow slip from the bed and stuffed it full of lint cotton that the seed had been taken out by the use of a small roller hand gin. We had a half side of home tanned sole leather concealed under the house floor that only two other persons besides our own family knew where it was and these were George Simmons and Bill Riddle. Our family and Aunt Katie Simmons, mother of George Simmons, had leather enough tanned in partnership for the two families in our large tan trough that lay on the bank of the river at the side of the upper field. The robber knew where our part of the leather was hid and took it out from under the floor. Then he made my two sisters, Margarette and Mary, go to the smokehouse and bring a shoulder of meat into the house and lay it down on the table. The meat was fresh for it had not been killed more than a day or two. The robber on examining the meat gouged his finger into the meat and says, “Ah, its as green as poison. I will not take it.” While all this was going on my brother, Andy, who was the baby got scared at the robber and was crying at the top of his voice which did not please the robber and he says, “Some of you go out and get a corn cob and stick it in that child’s mouth and choke his noise off.” The man now proceeded to examine the bed clothes and picking out three of the best quilts he folded them up and laid them down and called to his companion who was still on guard at the fence to come in and help him carry the things out and they took the quilts, cotton, corn, dried apples and sole leather and put the stolen booty on their horses and rode off.”
HOW “DUD” COKER WAS SLAIN
By S. C. Turnbo
This man was a son in law of George Wood who lived on East Sugar Loaf Creek some 3 ½ miles above Lead Hill, Ark. Woods owned the mill at the Big Spring. Coker’s wife was named Jane and they lived in a hollow that mouthed into Sugar Loaf Creek near the mill. The old country road lead up this same hollow from the mill to the crossing of White River at the mouth of Trimble’s Creek. One evening in the late spring of 1865 when the bloody strife was nearing to an end Dud Coker was in the field just above the George Wood residence replanting corn. A large mulberry tree stood near where he was at work with the hoe. While he was at work a party of horsemen armed to the teeth made their appearance at the fence and fired on him which gave the unsuspecting man a slight wound. Knowing It was death to remain in the field he started and ran to the fence on the opposite side of the field from where he was attacked. After crossing the fence he ran across the Yellville wagon road and made his way up the hill. The horsemen seeing the direction their victim was going galloped around the field on the lower side and charged up the point of the bluff to head him off. But they missed him on the summit of the hill and being determined he should not escape they found his shoe track and pursued him a half a mile and overhauled him and shot him to death and left the body for the women and children to care for or decompose in the hot sunshine and be finish up by the wild animals. It was near sunset when the slayers of Coker rode away and the dead man lay where he fell until the following day when the women and children of the neighborhood got together and searched the woods for him. The recent heavy rains had softened the ground and the feet of the pursuers horses had cut up the surface of the ground they had passed over that their trail was easily followed and by this means they discovered the dead body on the flat South of the Big Spring. Mrs. Sophia Chaffin, wife of “Jet” Chaffin, and Miss Mary Lane, daughter of John Lane, were two of the women that help hunt for him. Those good women had no means to convey the form of the lifeless man to a graveyard and It was on the following day after It was discovered before they could obtain assistance to remove the dead man from the forest. By this time news of Coker’s death reached the John Jones family who lived on the Tom Keeling place in Locust Hollow and Fate Jones, who was a little fellow then (10 years old), took his father’s oxcart which had no box except an old frame which was used to go to mill on. The cart was drawn by a yoke of oxen. The cattle were called Ball” and “RedBud” and were very docile. The two ladies named above and who were always ready to do their duty met young Jones at a designated place and piloted the boy with his cart through the wild woods to where the remains of the man lay and the two women with the aid of the boy lifted the decomposing form from the ground and placed it on the cart and while the two devoted women walked along just behind the cart and brushed away the blow flies that was following the body young Jones went on through the woods. In a little while they reached what was then known as the ‘Jet” Chaffin’s house where Mrs. Chaffin, who was a widow lady, then lived where she had young Jones to stop and turn the cattle loose to graze while they took a small bit of dinner which was the best they could afford at the time. The body of Coker was left on the cart. Fate Jones said that they went from here to Sugar Loaf Creek and crossed It above the old George Wood farm and passed on up a hollow on the west side of the creek to a graveyard where they found a few other women and some children had assembled together and had dug a hole in the ground in which Coker’s body was buried. The body was wrapped in a bed quilt which some kind lady had furnished. it was nearly sundown when they arrived at the graveyard and It was getting dusky dark when they were ready to leave for their respective homes. Mr. Jones said that the night was intensely dark and while on his way back home which was near 5 miles he was afraid a bunch of wolves might attack him and when good dark set in he mounted astride of old “Ball’s” back, the lead steer, and rode him home without unhitching the cattle from the cart. This account shows the young people of the present day how dreadful the experience of the women and children were in those terrible days of blood and death In that part of Marion County, Ark.
A BOLD ROBBERY
By S. C. Turnbo
This detailed account of a bold robbery perpetrated at the writer’s father’s house in war times was given me by my sister, Mrs. Margarette Jones of Protem, Mo. When the robbery was committed my father was living on the left bank of White River in Keesee township, Marion County, Ark. My sister said that it was winter time with a cola rain falling. A light snow had fell in the forepart of the night. There were 7 in the family at home when the robber came. My father, mother, and my brother, Newton, Layfayette (Bubby), myself, and my sisters, Mary L. and Gracie (Cricket) Elmira. Henry Wilson and his wife whose name was Peggie had come to our house the evening before and stayed all night and was there when the robbery took place. My father had a painful cattarh on his right hand which caused him to suffer a great deal. It was just after daylight when two men rode up to the yard fence and called for breakfast and their horses fed. We had just eat and the unwashed dishes were sitting on the table. The men would not permit their horses to be put in the lot but fed them on the ground in the wood yard without taking off the saddles. Both the men wore flop hats and when we prepared breakfast for them they did not take off their hats until after they had sit down at the table when each one took his hat off and laid it on his lap. After they had eat breakfast they rose from the table and picking up the chair they occupied while eating and placed them before the fire and sit down and began to talk. The fire was getting low and as father was not able to do anything on account of his sore hand he ask my two brothers, Newt and Bubby, to get some wood and put on the fire and when they both got into the house with the wood, the two men rose to their feet and each one drew a revolver and sprang to the doors and one stood at one door and the other the other and one of them told my father that if anyone attempted to leave the house they would shoot them down. And the other says to my father, “You are the man that robbed my house in Newton County, Mo. Which of course was not true. Then they both demanded money. My mother had $1300 dollars in confederate money on her person which my father had turned over to her for safety and it was all the money we had. Seeing that we had no chance to save the money or make any resistance father told mother to give the money up to them which she did and when the robbers saw that it was paper money they began to curse and say, “Dam the confederate money. We want hard money.” And father said, “Gentlemen, I could hand down the moon to you as soon as I could give you gold and silver.” The scoundrels threatened and swore to their hearts’ content thinking they would compel my parents to produce a lot of gold but the thieves were much mistaken and gave It up and took their departure and we were more than glad to get rid of their unwelcome presence. On reaching their horses they mounted them and rode up the river and stopped at the Mat Hoodenpile farm and took two horses from Aunt Sally Hoodenpile, one of which was a Mack horse and the other a gray one. We learned afterward that the name of one of the men was John Huff and the other was Morris.
THEY STOLE QUILTS, COUNTERPANES, THREAD, BACON AND LARD
By S. C. Turnbo
William Wiley Osborn and Miss Elizabeth Matilda Parker daughter of Garrison Parker, were married in 1854 and lived on Jimmie’s Creek in Marion County, Ark. Their home was 3 miles above the mouth where Jonsie Osborn settled years previous to this marriage. Mrs. Butler, one of their daughters who is now the wife of B. F. (Ben) Butler and who was born on Jimmie’s Creek in 1855, tells of some of the hardships they encountered on Jimmie’s Creek in war times. “My father was off in the federal army” said she. “He belonged to Capt. Shults company and served part of the time at Rolla, Mo. There were my mother and three of us children when the war broke out. Myself and sister Isabel and my brother Jonsie who was a small child. One night when my mother and we children were at home alone two robbers came to our house on horseback and after dismounting at the yard gate they come into the house and ordered us all out of doors and my mother being slow about getting out they drove her out by using harsh words and threats to kill her and the two men proceeded to help themselves to what they could find in the house that they thought would be useful to them. My mother had a great deal of cotton thread that she had spun on the spinning wheel that she was saving to make cloth out of on the handloom. The thieves had two big sacks with them and they crammed one of these sacks as full of thread as it would hold then they appropriated two heavy quilts and two counterpanes and while one of the men stood guard over their ill gotten booty, the other man went into the smoke house and took down all the bacon we had and cut it into chunks and put it into the other sack and filled one our fat gourds with all the lard we had and carried the thread, bacon, quilts, counterpanes and lard off with them leaving us to face starvation. These were some of the sore trials we were forced to endure during those unhappy days,” said Mrs. Butler.
WANTON DESTRUCTION OF A MILL AND ITS CONTENTS
By S. C. Turnbo
It is strange how some men when given a free hand will destroy property. The great Civil War proved what many men would do if they had a chance. Hundreds of men cared for nothing during that bloody strife only to rob, steal, burn and kill. But all the men were not of that disposition and opposed the destruction of property only what was really necessary and according to the rules of war. They aid not believe in killing anybody in an irregular way. Some men are born honest and they want to live honest. Others are born scoundrels and their desire is to carry out that principal. Some of the men on both sides in Civil War times were full of wanton meanness while others had a heart of mercy. A brief story of the early days in southern Missouri and a sad experience in war times is given here to show the hardships the honest class of people had to meet and pass through in those dark days. On the 10 of June, 1906, I had an interview with Mr. Aaron Frederic at his home on the head of Coweta Creek, Creek Nation, Indian Territory. Mr. Frederic said that he was a son of Hezzikiah and Susan (Brymer) Frederic and was born In Marion County, Tennessee, in the early 50’s. His parents lived in Tennessee until in 1858 when they set about making preparations to move into Missouri and went there in a stout ox wagon drawn by a trusty yoke of cattle. On arriving in Howell County they stopped on Jack’s Fork of Spring River where they purchased a small water mill which was near 25 miles northwest of West Plains. Mr. Frederic says that he was quite young when his father and mother owned this mill but he remembers a few names of the settlers on Jack’s Fork. Among them were Ambrose Smith, Rube Harlow, old man Goodman and a man of the name of Padget. The man Harlow owned a little mill on Jack’s Fork. This mill was three miles below our mill. We lived here two years or until 1860 when my father sold out and went 10 miles down the creek and settled on land at a fine spring of water that flowed out of the ground at the foot of a mountain. This spring is on a small branch that runs into Jackie Fork. Here at this noble spring of water my father built a good mill for that period. This mill was operated by a big overshot wheel. If I mistake not this was over the line in Oregon County or near the division line between this and Howell County. We ground corn and wheat both on this mill. Our patrons brought their grain on oxcarts, ox wagons, horseback, or afoot. Some of them lived many miles away. We had a bolting chest with the bolting cloth fixed on the inside of the chest. The cloth was run by a crank to separate the flour from the bran. I had the chest in charge and my father kept me busy nearly everyday and a good part of the night turning the crank of this bolting apparatus and I got awful tired of the business.
When we first went to this spring our nearest neighbor ‘was John Smith who lived 4 miles from us. The next nearest family was that of Jack Thomas who lived 5 miles away. Our next nearest neighbor was Billy Goldsberry, a Baptist preacher who lived more than 6 miles from us. Thomas and Goldsberry were sportsmen in the hunting line and generally hunted together. They both kept a pack of hounds and chased deer, bear and panther with them. We lived at this place until sometime after the war had broke out and ground grain for both sides until the early part of the 3rd year of the war when the bandits destroyed it by fire, which was done in the following manner. One day 30 men come dashing down the hill to the mill house and dismounted and while some of the men held the horses others went into the mill house and carried out the meal and flour and the wheat and corn that they found in there. This stuff belonged to us and the women and children of the neighborhood. As the men would carry it out they would throw it down in the mud in front of the mill house. When they had carried out all the sacks some of which had meal and flour in them, others corn and wheat, the men took their knives from their pockets and ripped all the sacks open except one man and he used his bayonet to tear one sack open. After they did this they picked up what was left of the sacks and shook the contents into the mud in one pile then led up their horses to this mixed pile of corn, wheat, flour and meal and let them eat of it and stamp and tramp the remainder into the mud.
My poor mother begged and pleaded with the stony hearted men to leave some of the meal or flour for the use of herself and children. She was crying and her cheeks were wet with tears but It did no good. The men cursed and abused her. Some of the most unmerciful ones told her to go to hell where she could get meal and flour and would have no trouble in getting it cooked for hell was hot enough to bake bread at anytime. This was serious to have to take from ruffians but we had it to bear. Mother and we children were helpless. Starvation was staring us In the face, for these wicked men determined that they would leave nothing for our comfort or support. Soon after all the grain, meal and flour was trampled into the mud by the horses feet, part of the men went back upstairs in the mill house while the others lead the horses off a short distance and guarded them. The men up stairs began to apply matches to the roof which was made of pine board and were easy to ignite and after they had set fire to the roof in several places they all come back downstairs and went out to where the other men and horses were to await the destruction of the building. In a few minutes the entire mill was wrapped in flames and soon went down in smoke and ashes. It seemed that my mothers heart would break while the sheet of flames were leaping high above the burning building. I well remember that just before they set the mill on fire one of the men raised the water gate and let the water on the big wheel and said that he would finish grinding and close up the mill and the patrons of this mill could go somewhere else to have their grist ground. The wheel went on with its revolutions until the frameworks of the house give way and the wheel was wrenched from its resting place and rolled several yards down the bed of the branch before it fell over.
DIED VERY OLD
By S. C. Turnbo
Mr. Aaron Frederic, a native of Tennessee but for a few years before the Civil War broke out lived in Howell County, Mo., and lived awhile on Crooked Creek in Marion County, Ark., says that his parents, Hezzikiah and Susan Frederic, lived to be very old before they passed to the great beyond. “My father” said he “died in 1890 at the age of 100 years. My mother died in 1894 at the age of 95 years. They both lie buried in a graveyard at the head of Osage Creek in Newton County, Ark.”
HUGE BUFFALOES
By S. C. Turnbo
In alluding to the wild beast that inhabited Washington County, Ark., in the early period of its history, Mr. Joshua Baker, an old pioneer of that section, said that he had been frightened many times at the herds of buffalo that fed on the spurs of the mountains and along Illinoise Creek. “I remember,” said he, “of seeing 60 buffalo in one bunch that was lead by a male buffalo that was estimated to have weighed 1800 pounds. It is a remarkable truth but I have seen small herds of them get frightened in Washington County and while they were stampeding they would grunt so loud that they could be heard two miles. It was something Interesting to me to see two buffalo bulls meet and engage In a savage fight. It was a worse fight than when our domesticated cattle engage in a combat. The hunters in Washington County had plenty of buffalo meat to eat before they were all killed or driven out. Some of them were very fat. One day my uncle Caleb Baker got up near a herd of buffalo and picked out a very large one and shot it down. The others took to flight and was soon beyond his view. He now went up to where the dead one lay to examine it and found that it was so big and fat that he was not able to turn it over and he come to my father’s house for assistance and he went back with him and they removed the hide and dressed the meat. My brother Calvin Baker hauled the meat home on a big sled at three loads. The animal was killed near our house on the Illinoise Creek one mile above where Prairie Grove is now.”
PURSUED BY A BUFFALO CALF
By S. C. Turnbo
There was a time in the state of Arkansas when buffalo were plentiful but they were gradually reduced in numbers by the early hunters until they were all killed or driven out. An amusing story was told by Mr. John Young and Mrs. Elizabeth Young, his wife, who lived in Yell County, Ark., from 1843 to 1850 when they moved to Crooked Creek in what is now Boone County, Ark. They said there were a few buffalo in Yell County while they lived there and the hunters would kill one occasionally before they were entirely exterminated. Mr. Young and his wife said that a little incident occurred in his neighborhood While he lived in Yell County that is too interesting to be lost.
They said that one morning in 1844 a man who was not a renowned hunter and who was afraid of wild beast and buffalo In particular went out with gun in hand to hunt for a deer, when he spied a buffalo cow with a fine calf following her which was only a short distance from his cabin. The calf was nearly a year old. The man concluded that he would shoot the cow and procure help and capture the calf and raise It for a pet. He worked his way carefully until he was in gun shot range of the cow and shot her down. The calf appeared to have some knowledge that Its mother had been killed and it stood and looked at her a few moments as she lay broadside on the ground dead. When all at once it seemed to be overcome with anger and turned its head around and saw the slayer of its mother standing where he had shot from and leaving its dead mother and ran toward the hunter for a fight. The man was struck with terror and turned and fled toward his hut. The calf’s temper was boiling over with rage and it soon overtook the fast retreating hunter and gave him a hard jolt with its head. The man sped on as fast as he could run. The calf pursued and kept right along just behind him and butted him severely. The race was exciting and those witnessing it could not refrain from slapping their hands together and laughing loud. The frightened hunter aid his best to outrun the calf but in vain. The enraged little beast stayed at his heels and jolted the discomfitted man with Its head at every opportunity. The terrified man cleared several yard of space at each bound, and yelled everytime he struck the ground, “Buf- buf- buffalo. Buf- buf- buffalo after me. Help – help-help – or it will butt me to death.” The fleeing man kept up this noise with the young buffalo immediately in his rear until he reached the doorway of his domicile and darted in and the calf stopped and turned around and ran back to its dead mother.”
HOW A WOMAN AND HER CHILDREN WERE SAVED FROM A BEAR
By S. C. Turnbo
The mouth of Bear Creek is one of the earliest settled places on the upper White River. The place I refer to is where the Missouri state line divides Taney County, Mo., and Boone County, Ark. The division line between Missouri and Arkansas crosses the river at the mouth of the creek named at the beginning of this chapter.
Girard Leiper Brown was the first settler at the mouth of Bear Creek. Brown married Miss Katie Coker in Alabama. They left Alabama for the wild west soon after their marriage and arriving on White River above where Batesville now stands, they dug out a big canoe of black walnut and in the late summer of 1816 they started up the river with their household. Among their effects was a small barrel filled with salt. The weather was dry and the water in the shoals was shallow and they experienced great difficulty at times in pushing and pulling the craft over the shoals. It was In the middle of October of the year 1816 when they reached the mouth of Bear Creek and unloaded their stuff from the canoe. They selected a spot of ground near the bank of the river and built a small cabin and covered It with long boards and used mother earth for a floor, then they dug a cellar and shaped it up to store their provision In and as cool weather advanced Mr. Brown began laying in a supply of wild meat for winter use. There was a big thicket of blackberry vines near the house which were loaded with berries on the following summer after their arrival here, and the family had visited the patch frequently to gather the berries. One day during that summer or in 1817, Mr. Brown went off early in the morning on a days hunt leaving his wife and two children—Tom and Alex—alone. The last named child was just beginning to walk. The first named was just old enough to barely sit alone. As we have stated the cluster of blackberry vines were loaded with nice ripe berries and after Mrs. Brown had finished her housework and the heavy dew had dried off she took the children and a small vessel and went out to the vines to gather berries. They had been living here several months among the wild beast, though the nights were made hideous by the howl of the wolves and the scream of the panther and the wild cat poured forth its nocturnal plaint to the silent stars. They both realized they were living in the midst of a howling wilderness. Yet they were not discouraged and they had built a new pole house and floored it with puncheons which they had made by felling common sized trees and cutting off in proper lengths and splitting open and dressing the faces with the ax.
After Mrs. Brown put the children down on the ground she soon become busy picking off the wild fruit but before she had filled the vessel she noticed that some of the briars had just been wallowed down by a wild beast and on Investigation she found that it had been done by a bear. Its big tracks were imprinted In the soft dirt. This alarmed her for she realized that the animal was close by. Throwing the partly filled vessel down she ran to her children and snatched them up in her arms and ran to the house. When she reached the door she glanced back toward the briar thicket and to her consternation she saw the bear coming toward the house. Then she rushed into the house and putting the children down in the middle of the floor she closed the door and made as fast as she could with the means at hand. Then she raised a puncheon and put the children down in the cellar. The moment she turned them loose in there where it was dusky dark they both began to cry. The barrel containing the salt but only partly filled now was sitting In the room and she put it endways on the puncheon she had raised. Then getting down In the cellar where her frightened children were she carefully pulled and worked the puncheon back in its place. She had worked in haste and had barely sit down on the floor of the cellar to quiet her children and listen for the approach of the beast when she heard it push against the door shutter which he soon pushed open and she heard his bearship come into the house. Then she heard him walking on the puncheons. Directly it stopped and put its nose down to a narrow space between two puncheons and she could hear it sniffle and smell. Not being satisfied with that part of the floor it moved directly over the cellar and put its nose down again and repeated its smelling and sniffles and in a short space of time it located her and the children. Then It quit smelling and went to scratching at the puncheon to raise it up, and in doing this it turned the salt barrel over and Mrs. Brown heard the barrel roll across the floor. The mother and children were in a fearful position. The hungry bear had only to raise the puncheon out of its way with its paws, then raise a second one which would give It plenty of room to get down into the cellar where it would have a delightful time while destroying the woman and her precious babes. She screamed out In terror and gave up for lost and abandoned all hope of escaping with her life. If her children were safe she could face death more easy. But her poor innocent children, how sad the thought that they would be torn to pieces by the monster wild beast. Mother and children were all screaming and crying. In the meantime bruin did not let up In trying to get into the cellar. After Mr. Brown had arrived there the fall previous and got settled down, he went back down the river to his father in law’s, Buck Coker, who lived at the lower end of what is now called the Jake Nave Bend and bought a cow of him and brought her home and kept her lassoed in the cane near the house until she dropped her calf. Then they kept the calf in the yard which was enclosed by a good fence. When the bear attacked the house, the calf which was quite young was on the back side of the house, but while the bear was at work it was supposed that the calf had come around to the door where the bear could see It and the next thing the mother knew her black enemy suddenly quit scratching at the puncheons and ran out of the house Into the yard and she heard it catch the calf and kill it In front of the door. The little calf bellowed pitiful as the black beast was slaying It. The sight of the calf caused bruin to leave its human victims for a mess of veal, but Mr. Bruin did not have the pleasure of enjoying his feast very long for while he was devouring the calf the husband the father made his appearance and hearing the cries of his wife and children he rushed up with gun in hand within plain view of the house and seeing the bear in the yard devouring something which greatly alarmed him and taking quick aim at a vital spot he shot the bear down and while it was kicking and struggling in its dying moments he rushed into the house and found his wife and children safe in the cellar. The report of the gun had given Mrs. Brown new life for she knew her husband had arrived and had killed or wounded the bear. But the fright had almost unnerved her and when Mr. Brown lifted her out of the cellar she was hardly able to stand. But realizing that her man had come in time to save her and the children from the black beast and seeing the bear as it lay dead in the yard, she nearly swooned with joy.
AN INTERESTING VIEW OF A WILD BEAR IN THE WILD WOODS
By S. C. Turnbo
The pioneer people of North Arkansas and Southern Missouri met many fascinating views in the wild woods in the early days. Their description of wild beast as they observed them in the forest are interesting to those that delight in reading the accounts of the bygone days.
Mrs. Cassia King furnished a story to the writer one day in January, 1898, at Lead Hill, Ark., of herself and others meeting a bear once in the wild forest, the account of which she related in the following words.
“In the year 1836 several of the Adams family who were relatives of my parents, Mr. Samuel Orr and Mrs. Catherine (Adams) Orr, paid us a visit where we lived near the mouth of Big North Fork and remained with us a few days to look at the county. They all lived in Howard County, Mo., which borders the Missouri River on the north side. When they were ready to return back home my parents decided to go home with them and we all started on horseback.
The following are the names of those composing our party. Sam and Catherine Orr, my parents; I and my sister, Mary A., and brother Jim Orr; Andrew and Wilson Adams, who were brothers of my grandfather, old Jimmie Adams. There were also Warren and Wilson Adams, who were sons of Andrew Adams.
Then there were Strather, George, and John Adams, who were brothers of my mother’s. The two last named lived with my grandfather, Jimmie Adams. There were 12 of us in the party and I recollect that I was a few months less than 12 years old. We had two dogs with us and some of the men carried a small single barrel pistol each. These and pen knives were all the weapons we had in the crowd. The country was wild. It had not only the appearance of being wild, but it was wild. There were no roads except a few Indian trails, but the hills and valleys all about us presented a picturesque view. A wide expanse of wooded hills and broken prairie with no intervening undergrowth to mar the view of the pretty scenery. Our journey from the mouth of Big North Fork to the Missouri River was enjoyed by us all. Here we passed over a wooded hill. There we crossed a pretty prairie hollow and over yonder we crossed a brooklet of limpid water. One fine view was followed by another until our arrival at the home of our relatives in Howard County. Deer and wild turkeys were seen on every side almost. Big game was seen occasionally. The most prettiest sight of a wild bear I ever saw in my life was while we were on this trip into Missouri and before we got out of the rough hills of Arkansas, and here is the way it occurred, is said Mrs. King.
“One day while we were riding along on the top of the Cawlder Mountain which is situated not far from where the George Pearson farm on White River is we spied a huge bear standing near 100 yards from the Indian trail we were following. The sight of seeing so many human beings traveling together no doubt surprised his bearship and he was watching us intently. The two dogs darted at him for a fight and the beast did not show any evidence of fear and rose on his hind feet and used his paws for a knocker which soon reminded the dogs who they were fooling with and that he was monarch there for the time. After the bear had hit the dogs once or twice each they had all the lesson they wanted and did not venture up in reach of his paws anymore and kept at a respectful distance from him and bayed him with all the noise they were able to make. The men who carried the pistols made no attempt to shoot him, thinking it more prudent to let him alone for the pistols’ balls were so small that they would wound him only which might render him into a fury and he might kill or wound some of the party. But we all rode up near where he was standing on his hind feet and surrounded him and sat on our horses and interviewed him more than a half an hour. Though he had repulsed the attack from the dogs yet he seemed inclined not to Interrupt us if we would let him alone. His appearance as he stood there indicated peace but he did not want to be molested, but as I have said he did not show any animosity toward us while we were viewing him, but I thought he was a peculiar looking creature. He remained perfectly still while we were scrutinizing him. When we had rode off some 200 yards from the bear and had called the dogs off we stopped and looked back at him again and he was still in the same position. After we had passed on a little further we could not resist the temptation of stopping once more and took another long look at him and he was in the same position the last we seen of him.”
A HOT FIGHT WITH A BEAR
By S. C. Turnbo
The following account of a battle with an angry bear was told me by Isaac Fleetwood.
“One day during the early settlement of what is now Douglas County, Mo., while my uncle Isaac and uncle Adam Fleetwood lived on Bryant’s Fork, they took their dogs, guns and hunting knives and went up on Rippy’s Creek on a bear hunt and soon struck the fresh trail of one and the dogs gave chase and overhauled the animal and brought it to bay which was followed by a bloody fight between it and the dogs. Just before bruin halted for a combat uncle Isaac shot and crippled his bearship which put him in a fighting humor. The scene of the fight commenced on the side of a steep hill with a gully just below them and soon after the fight began dogs and bear rolled into the ditch, where bear and dogs were mixed in such a way that the men were afraid to attempt to shoot the bear again for fear they would kill or wound one of the dogs. They had not been in the ditch but a short time when the bear got hold of one of the dogs. Seeing that his dog was in danger of being killed by the infuriated bear, uncle Isaac exclaimed, “by heavens, Adam, we must save that dog’s life. I’m not ready to see him pass in his checks yet.” The poor dog was suffering with pain and was crying out as if begging for quarter and before uncle Isaac had time to interfere, uncle Add rushed up to the edge of the gully and sprang astride of the bear’s back and with his huge knife which he held in his right hand sank the blade to the hilt in the bear just behind the shoulder, then leaped off of the bear’s back and up the bank out of the ditch before the bear could turn the dog loose and offer to bite him. Just as he reached the top of the bank the bear sank down and died. The dog was desperate wounded but with close attention he finally recovered his usual strength and was ready for another bear fight.”
HOW A HUNTER GOT HIS RACK SCRATCHED BY A BEAR
By S. C. Turnbo
“Though I never delighted in hunting for deer or other game, settlers all round me killed fine bucks and big bears, said Mr. George Trammel, an old pioneer of Crooked Creek in Boone County, Ark. “Away back in 1842, when I was seven years old, Bill Freeman and a man of the name of Ross, who were accompanied by two other men, with several dogs went out into the hills south of Crooked Creek to kill game and in a few hours the dogs discovered a fresh trail of a bear and followed after it in a lively manner until they overhauled him and a sharp chase ensued when the bear took refuge in a cave. When the hunters come up to the mouth of the cave they agreed that one of them ought to go in and reach for his bearship and after a torch was made one of the men took the light in one hand and a gun in the other and went into the cave, but made his exit in a few minutes and reported that he was not able to find bruin. Then one of the other men signified their intention of making a search for the animal and went in and come out without any better success. And the third man did not succeed any better. It was not Rosses turn to go in and he told the other men that he intended to locate the bear before he come back and with the light in his left hand and his rifle in the other he passed in and the light from his torch was soon lost to view. After the man was gone awhile they heard his hallooing In distress. The men on the outside believed that bruin had attacked their friend and was killing him. One of the men wanted to go to his assistance, but his companions objected. “Their excuse was that there was nothing to prepare another torch, and it would be foolish to go in the cave without one. They said it was best to not send the dogs in for it would make matters worse for the man and in their fear and excitement they decided that it was best not attempt to interfere in the dark. They did not know what was best to do unless it was to stay out and while they were engaged In suggesting plans and discussing them pretty lively bruin come out among them unexpected. He was in the midst of the men and dogs before they could think twice. The men jumped out of bruin’s way and gave him all the room necessary but the dogs were fearless and showed fight. The three men after running a few yards and seeing that the dogs had brought the bear to bay they stopped and went back and fired three balls Into the bear’s body and the big black animal yielded up his life and sank down among the dogs. Just after the bear was dead Mr. Ross made his appearance out of the cave with his clothes all torn and covered with dirt and his back gave evidence of bad treatment. The man was in a condition of excitement and his actions resembled a horse that was shieing at some object. After his nerves got in better shape for talking he said that he had a close call from bruin. After he had passed into the mouth of the cavern he examined every ledge and offshoot as he went along until the cave narrowed down and after he had proceeded a few yards further he saw the bear by the light of the torch. The beast was lying down but when the light flashed on his he raised up and made a rush at him. “I had no time to shoot or turn round before it struck against me and knocked me down, If said Rose, “and as it passed over me it pressed me so hard against the floor of the cave that the beast nearly squeezed me to death and this accounts for the deep lines of gashes it made on my back with its rough claws as it went over me. It was then that I stood in need of help. However. I might have called for assistance until doomsday without you men offering to extend a helping hand to me. When the bear struck me the torch was knocked from my hand and extinguished, and when it passed over me and went on I followed it out.” After Mr. Ross had got in a better humor they all removed the hide of the bear and dress the meat and cut it into chunks and put it into sacks and loaded It onto their ponies and carried it home that evening. This was on Saturday and on the following Sunday religious services were held in the neighborhood. Rosses wounds, though very sore from his contact with the bear did not prevent him from attending meeting which he seemed to enjoy much better than an encounter with an angry bear in a cave or elsewhere, and after services were dismissed, Mr. Ross told all his friends how bruin tickled his back with his claws.”
FRIGHTENED AT THE GROANS OF A DYING BEAR
By S. C. Turnbo
The following story originated from the hills south of White River below the mouth of Big North Fork and John Churchwell, who lived In that part of Arkansas, is the man that give the account of it. He said that John (Jack) Br ewer lived 15 miles south of White River and was a “mighty powerful hunter.” When game was plenty, Mr. Brewer like most all the early settlers of Arkansas plowed his land off of the grass In crop time during one crop season while he would be out in the woods of mornings hunting his plow pony. He killed 81 deer during the crop season with an old muzzle loading rifle and saved all the hides of these deer and bought the necessary supplies with them for the use of himself and family. One day this same hunter went into a cave where there were an old bear and two cubs and seeing the three animals lying on their bed in a huddle he with torch in one hand and his trusty rifle in the other crawled up within a few feet of them and shot the mother bear In the head which resulted in a great noise as she struggled and floundered around while she was dying. The cave was narrow and the hunter being frightened at the racket the dying bear was making “crawfished” out of the cave as fast as he could use his hands and feet. After staying out a short while he crawled into the cave again far enough to hear the dying moans of the bear for she was not dead yet and out he went again backward as fast as he could move. he said the noise was so terrifying that he dare not venture up closer. When he passed out the second time he sit down at the mouth of the cavern and waited two hours before going back in again. This time he found her dead. After he got the meat and hide of the old bear home he returned to the cave and captured the little bears and took them home and made a couple of fine pets out of them.
FOLLOWING A BEAR WITH A HOG IN ITS HUG
By S. C. Turnbo
Among the interesting accounts of early day life In Washington County, Arkansas, is one about a bear getting among a bunch of hogs which was furnished me by Mr. Joshua Baker. “While we lived on Illinoise Creek near where Prairie Grove is now it was little trouble to raise hogs except that the bears, panthers and wolves would attack and catch one occasionally. The wild beast were all the detriment to the raising of hogs in that locality for there existed no hog diseases then to take them off and they did well in the creek bottom. I recollect that our hogs would collect together at night under a shelving rock at the base of a hill just below our spring. The spring and jutting rock was on the opposite side of the branch from the house. One cloudy and damp evening in the month of February, 1841, while my father and my brother, Russell Baker, were cutting firewood oh the side of the hill and my brother, Calvin Baker, was hauling it to the house on a sled pulled by a mare that we called doll which my father had brought from Tennessee with him, we heard a disturbance among a bunch of 30 hogs commence at the shelving rock. When the hogs began to rally my father dropped his axe and went to the house for the gun and by the time he had put it In good shooting order all the hogs except one had left the shelving rock and reached the yard fence. The gun my father owned was a Choctaw rifle which was the best gun to kill game with up to that period. With gun In hand father ran to the shelving rock which was west of the house, but no animal was in eight. But blood was found on the ground and bear tracks were imprinted in the soft dirt. The bear had went up the side of the mountain. It had just left and my father followed its fresh trail near 100 yards when he saw bruin walking on his hind feet with the hog in his hug which was a good sized shoat. The bear showed evidence of being very tired In carrying the dead grunter up the steep mountain and on reaching a big log which lay horizontally along the side of the mountain he dumped the hog across the log and held it there with his paws while he took a resting spell. My father advanced toward the bear in a cautious way without the animal seeing him and stopped and took good aim at bruin in the region of the heart. As the report of the rifle sounded out and before the echo died away the bear struck the dead hog two hard blows with his paw and fell back dead and lodged against an object and the dead hog fell off the log onto the dead bear and lay across him and father walked up to where they both lay and took the hog by the hind legs and pulled it down the mountain and went back and dragged the bear down which was easily accomplished by the mountainside being so steep. After he had got the bear down he called Calvin who was several years my senior to bring the mare and sled and when he got there we all put the bear and hog on the sled and Calvin hauled them to the house and we scalded and dressed the hog and we hung the bear up and took off his hide and cared for the meat and we were blessed with plenty of hog and bear meat as long as it lasted.”
SEEING THREE BEARS UP THE SAME TREE
By S. C. Turnbo
At the mouth of Coon Creek In Marion County, Ark., a rough bluff sets In which extends up White River to Long Bottom Creek. In this bluff a short distance above the mouth of Coon Creek Is the mouth of a rough gulch known as the Devil’s Hollow. Just above the mouth of this gulch and down near the water’s edge of the river is a fine spring of cold water where in the long ago the early settlers who lived on the bank of the river on the opposite side from the spring would visit this noted spring in their canoes and fill their cedar palls with this cool sparkling water and take it across the river to be used as drinking water. One of the families who lived here was Robert Casebolt and Jemima Casebolt, his wife and their small children. Mrs. Casebolt was an expert In a canoe and during summertime when the water in the river was too warm for drinking purposes she would get in the canoe with her big cedar pall and paddle the craft across the river and fill her vessel full of this pure cold water and return back to the opposite shore as safe as any man would. One day she got into the canoe and started across as usual to fill her pail with water. Just as the bow of the canoe touched the shore at the spring she heard a rustling noise up a tree which stood near the spring and on glancing up she was thunderstruck with astonishment at the sight of three bears up the tree. The sight of the animals so terrified her that she hurriedly backed the canoe away from the shore with the paddle and turning the bow of the craft toward the other shore she made the dugout glide swiftly through the water until she landed and ran to the house. This was In the summer of 1840 and Mrs. Casebolt said it was the last time she ever ventured back to the spring in the dugout alone.
HAULING A DEAD BEAR OUT OF A CAVE
By S. C. Turnbo
Between Big Creek and White River in what is now Ceder Creek township in Marion County, Ark., the hills and hollows are rough and rugged. In these hills stands a little patch of pine trees. Not far from these pines Is a cave which I am told leads 25 or 30 feet nearly straight down into the ground. One day in pioneer times while Joe Magness lived on what is now the Ross Cantrel farm on White River and Paton Keesee lived on Little North Fork the latter named settler in company with Fed Fulkerson while riding near these pine trees one day with dogs and guns they met a bear pursued by Joe Magnesses dogs. Bruin had come up the bluff out of the bottom and the dogs were pressing him close. Keesee’s dogs joined in the chase and in a short time more. Magness himself who was also on horseback and following the chase joined the other men and they all followed the dogs, and after a short and hot chase the bear took refuge in the small opening in the ground that we have referred to. The bear was not able to hide its entire body from view, but not enough of the animal was in view to shoot it in a vital part. The cave was too steep to send the dogs down Into it. The only way to kill bruin was to irritate him until he become angry enough to cause him to try to climb up and fight his way out. And the three men tossed stones down into the opening until his bearship grew furious and here he come scrambling up toward the entrance. But before he had time to reach the outlet the men sent three leaden balls from their guns into the bear’s head and he rolled back to the bottom of the cave and was dead in a few minutes. Soon after Bruin had died Magness and Fulkerson remarked that it was a problem to them how they would get the dead bear out of the cave and referred the matter to Keesee and who replied, “Gentlemen, this is a small matter to solve and I will explain to you.” Which he done in the following way. “One of you fellows tie one end of my lariat rope around both my ankles and lower me down to the dead bear head foremost.” Which was put into action at once, and when they had let Keesee down in reach of the bear, he with his knife slit a hole in the bear’s upper and lower lips and tied the end of another stout rope In the orifices and gave the signal to pull him up which was done with feet foremost and the three men went to work immediately and after hard pulling they succeeded In hauling the bear up and after a breathing spell they removed the hide and made an equal division of the meat among themselves and departed for their respective homes well pleased.
FACE TO FACE WITH BRUIN
By S. C. Turnbo
Soon after Ned Coker settled in the bottom on the right bank of White River in 1823 in what is now Crooket township in Marion County, Ark., he and Winnie, his wife, had an adventure with a bear one day while clearing land near the house. They were both busy at work in a thick growth of tall cane cutting the cane off with homemade hoes. Mr. Coker while at work noticed an object in the edge of the cane which he took for his wife and wondered why she was dodging around in the cane. Next moment he saw his wife busy at work cutting the cane which brought him to his senses and raising up he was confronted by a bear standing on Its haunches with its nose almost at his face. Coker was much astonished at the audacity of Bruin and jumping back from it a few feet he yelled, “Look out, Winnie”, and struck the bear on its nose with the hoe. At this the bear snorted and lowered himself and with another snort the blood dripped from Bruin’s nose for the man had mashed it with the hoe. The bear made off into the cane and was gone, but Coker thought it might come back and stood ready to protect himself and wife if it did return. But that was the last of it as far as they knew.
HOW A LOT OF YOUNG HUNTERS GOT THEIR COATS BURNED UP
By S. C. Turnbo
Many years ago when Joe Magness lived on the left bank of White River in what is now Cedar Creek township, Marion County, Ark., four of his sons—Tom, Wilshire, Sam and Bob— who were only small lads then, had an amusing experience with a bear one day that the dogs had chased out of the cane break in the bottom into the rough hills between White River and Big Creek. These boys were accompanied by “Hatch” and Tom Duggins, sons of Alex Duggins, who lived at the mouth of Big Creek. After the bear reached the top of the bluff it ran down into a hollow that leads Into Big Creek where the beast entered a cave. Joe Magness was absent from home that day and the 6 boys had all the enjoyment among themselves. Soon after the bear went into the cave the young lads reached the spot where the ever watchful dogs were keeping guard at the mouth of the cavern with the usual noise that dogs do when they corner a wild beast. The boys rejoiced that the bear had went Into a cave but they were at a lose to know how they would proceed to get him out until one of their number suggested that they build a fire and smoke him out and they soon kindled a fire just on the inside of the entrance into the cave for the purpose of smoking Bruin out of his den. The weather was cold and they all wore coats made of homemade jeans. Notwithstanding the bitter cold the boys placed several sticks across the mouth of the cave and pulled off their coats and spread them out on the sticks to prevent the smoke from escaping out of the opening. The young nimrods all stood In a bunch in front of where their coats hung on the sticks waiting for bruin to make his exit. They waited until their patience was nearly exhausted when to their joy they heard the bear coming. The noise he made indicated that he was trying to pump the smoke out of himself through his nostrils. As the boys heard the animal approaching they moved up closer to their coats and listened attentively at Bruin sniffing for he seemed to be full of smoke. All at once Bruin made a dash to reach the outside for he stood greatly in need of fresh air and on reaching the boys coats he knocked them Into the fire and rushed out and the boys scattered like chaff carried by the wind. The bear did not stop but pumped out the smoke as he ran with every dog at his heels. As the bear and dogs were passing out of view the boys thought of their coats and ran back to the cave and snatched their burning garments from the fire. But they were too late for they were all ruined. “Hatch” Duggins coat was entirely Destroyed and the others were so badly damaged that they were worthless. Though they were shivering with cold yet the young fellows did not get out of a pleasant humor and followed on in the direction the bear was leading the dogs. Bruin was not in a shape to travel far for the smoke had worried him and when he had ran near a half a mile he seemed to decide that he had rather fight as to run and halted and offered battle which the dogs accepted at once and they give him more fight than he anticipated. Though the bear fought for his life, but the smoke had weakened him in a way that he was no match for the dogs and they finally killed him. He was a small bear but it pleased the boys as well as If he had been as big as an elephant. They left the dead animal where the dogs had slain it and ran back home to relate the glorious news of their victory. In the meantime Joe Magness had returned back home and he and Alex Duggins went back with the exultant boys and brought the dead Bruin home on a large horse.
A BEAR’S LAST VISIT TO A CORNFIELD
By S. C. Turnbo
Three miles below the village of Peel, Marion County, Ark., Is the mouth of Coon Creek. One quarter of a mile below this stream is the mouth of Music’s Creek. Between the mouths of these two small but rough water courses is the Jim Jones ferry landing. On the upper side from the mouth of Coon Creek is a high bluff where a fine view of White River and surrounding country is obtained. This bluff and the two creeks is on the south side of the river and we have a pretty view of the rough and tall bluffs and the wooded shores. A few of the farms on each side of the river is observed which calls to mind the names of old timers who once lived in this part of Marion County. On the opposite side of the river is the old Loranzo D. Terry farm. Mr. Terry was spirited away from his home in war times. The last the writer ever heard of him was on the Arkansas River at the mouth of Mulberry where he is supposed to have been murdered while he was a prisoner. Others say he was killed on the side of Lee’s Mountain facing the Flippin Barrens. This old farm is now owned by Hon. J. C. Floyd. On the same side of the river is the old Abe Perkins place known now as the Jim Jones place. This land was once owned by Billy King and it is said that this farm was settled by a man of the name of John McVey from the state of Indiana. On the south side of the river and below the mouth of Music is the Blanket Bottom which was settled by Abe Anderson. A number of old timers have lived in this bottom from time to time. Among them Is Mat Hoodenpile who lived at the spring In the gulch in the latter forties where his youngest child, Sarah Jane Hoodenpile, was born March 19, 1849. Between the mouth of Coon and Music we notice a small farm where Isaiah Wilkerson lived and died. Isaiah was a son of “Haus” Wilkerson. Isaiah married Lizzie Mallissa Wilkerson that married Pew C. Anderson was a sister of Isaiahs. Along the river here Aaron Nipps, Henry Nipps and Lige Nipps hunted for deer and killed fish of nights many times. Glancing southward we have a partial view of the glady hills and deep hollows of Music Creek. This rough canyon like stream took its name from Leander Music who built a cabin on this water course one half a mile from the river. Leander Music was killed during the war up on the head of one of the prongs of the creek at the base of the mountain is where John Knight built his cabin and which was deserted before the outbreak of the war and after the war came up it was a famed rendevous for many men at times fleeing from danger in those turbulent days. This old cabin was known as the Knight house for many years. One of the old time bear stories originating in the field between the mouth of Music and Coon Creeks is the following as told by Mr. Calvin Clark who said that it was common for bear to enter a field of corn and eat his fill. “Many years ago,” said Mr. Clark, “while Isaiah Wilkerson lived here he had this field planted in corn but with the exception of deer nothing interrupted the crop until after the corn had matured, when a bear paid the field a visit of nights. As the field contained only a few acres Bruin was about to overrun and destroy the crop. Wilkerson had no dog and the bear had his own way and went on with the destruction of the crop. Wilkerson would venture out once and awhile of nights with his gun but he could never get a shot at Bruin from the fact he was afraid to risk himself too close to Bruin without a dog and it give the big black beast an opportunity to continue eating and wasting corn and the crop was vanishing in a gradual way. At last Wilkerson fell on a plan to rid the field of the bear. One evening he put his rifle in good order and went out to where the bear was in the habit of climbing over the fence and placed the gun In such a shape that on pressure of a stout string it would discharge the load in the rifle. When all the necessary arrangements were completed for the death of Bruin Wilkerson returned to the house to await results. The man sit up till midnight listening to hear the report of the gun but the gun did not report itself at the time expected. Growing weary of waiting and becoming drowsy he retired to bed and went to sleep. Then he was aroused from the land of dreams by the report of a rifle. He was much pleased at hearing the gun sound out for he knew almost to a certainty that it was the one he had set for the bear., but the night was dark and he would not go out to make an investigation until after broad daylight. He was anxious to taste of that bear’s meat for he had got fat on his corn and he wanted to be recompensed to some extent for the loss of his corn. When daylight made its appearance he went to see whether Bruin was dead or not. But he was not there, but he had been there and had got shot. His tracks were plainly imprinted on the soft ground. There were blood stains on the weeds and the gun was empty. Bruin had been shot and was wounded. Mr. Wilkerson sent for me and my brother, Bill Clark, and we took our guns and five dogs with us and when we reached the spot where the man had set the gun we all with the help of the dogs started on the trail. The bear was severely wounded and had went up the hill between Main Music and Dry Music Creeks., but before reaching the top of the hill it stopped and lay down under a ledge of rock. When the dogs approached, the bear rose to Its feet and met the dogs for a combat and we come up just as the fight began. The dogs were eager for the attack and closed around him. Though Bruin was desperately wounded but he made a vigorous fight and defended himself very stout against the attack of the dogs by rising on his haunches and knocked the dogs right and left with his huge paws. One stroke of his paws to each dog was sufficient to persuade them to stay out of his reach. He looked defiant and seemed to dare the men and dogs to come up in reach of his ugly paws. Very soon my brother, Bill Clark, ventured up near enough to make a sure shot and turned the contents of his rifle loose at it and the big animal reeled over and died. As far as known this was the largest and fattest bear ever killed on Music Creek. Each one of its forepaws measured 6 inches across the widest part of them.”
A HUNGRY BEAR EATS HIS LAST MESS OF PORK
By S. C. Turnbo
Just over the Missouri state line in the north part of Marion County, Ark., is the old Wilshire Magness place. This land lies on Big Creek at the mouth of Little Cedar Hollow. It is known now as the Steve Copelin farm. In the early fifties when Wilshire Magness married Miss Nancy Elizabeth Holt he bought the improvement on this land from Billy Howard. He also bought an improvement from Jimmie Jones, the latter which was just above the Billy Howard claim. Wilshire sold this last claim to his brother, Bob Magness, and when Bob died here in 1856 the claim fell into the hands of Hughe Magness who lived here some time. This land is known now as the Fately place. Going back to the Wilshire Magness place we find a noble spring of water that Issues out of the ground ¼ mile from Big Creek. Wilshire Magness and his family used water out of this spring while they lived here. Just below the mouth of Little Cedar at the foot of the bluff is another spring of water which was well known to the old time settlers. Many years before Wilshire Magness and his wife lived at the first named spring It was the scene of an interesting encounter between a lot of dogs and a bear, the story of which was told by Mrs. Patsey Magness, widow of Joe Magness, who died in the old Magness bottom in the latter forties. Mrs. Magness died one morning at sunrise in December, 1856. She lived just two days after the burial of the dead body of her son, Robert. Two years before the death of Mrs. Magness I heard her relate the account of the bear and I give It in her own words as near as I can remember it. “When I and Joe Magness, my husband, settled in this bottom, Joe cleared and fenced enough ground in three years to raise plenty to live on. The soil was so fertile that it produced big ears of corn and monster pumpkins. We located here In 1827 and by the time 1830 rolled around Joe and the boys had a nice start of hogs, but it required close attention to prevent their destruction by wild beast. In the fall of 1830 Joe enclosed 3 acres of ground adjoining the yard fence with heavy poles and rails and put three of our best hogs in there to make bacon of them. The fence was so stout and high that my husband scouted the idea of a bear climbing over the fence and attacking the porkers. They were fed on corn and pumpkins until they were exceedingly fat and were ready to be butchered. one morning early Wilshire, who was a little fellow then, went out to feed them and found that one of the hogs was missing. The child hurried back to the house and told us about it and Joe went to the lot and found that a bear had entered the enclosure and killed the hog and had carried It to the fence and after pushing off some of the top rails threw the hog over the fence and climbed over and picked up the hog again and passed on through the cane and up the face of the bluff on the east side of the hollow opposite the house. I do not know how it happened that we never heard the bear kill the hog nor the dogs never found it out. After Joe followed the trail of the bear a short distance up the bluff he returned to the house and had ate breakfast he sent one of the boys down to Alex Duggins at the mouth of Big Creek with a request for Duggins to come and bring his gun and bear dogs. As soon as Mr. Duggins arrived he and Joe rode across the bottom and with their combined force of dogs reached the foot of the bluff where they dismounted and lead their horses up the bluff where the bear had carried the fat porker. Some distance up on the bluff they found where the bear had stopped long enough to devour part of the dead hog and concealed the remainder with leaves and trash. The hunters did not tarry long here, but hurried on to overtake thieving Bruin. The trail lead straight toward Big Creek. Before arriving at the creek they found where the animal had lay down to rest and had got up and went on. On following his trail 300 yards further they overhauled him while he was lying down asleep. The dogs soon woke him up and Bruin prepared himself for battle and while the fight was going on one of the men shot and wounded him and the result was a running fight from there to the creek and across to the spring on Little Cedar Creek ¼ mile east of Big Creek. Here at this water Bruin took his last stand and fought his last battle. My husband said that when the dogs closed around Bruin he knocked them right and left with his big paws. The fight did not continue long before some of the dogs were disabled. One of which was almost killed. As soon as the two men had approached near enough they shot the bear down. By the time they had removed the hide from the bear and cared for the meat the men thought the dog was dying and would not live more than 3 hours at least. They cut the bear’s meat into chunks and loaded it onto their horses and started back home leaving the dog lying at the spring nearly lifeless. Now comes in a mystery to me, ” said Mrs. Magness, “for just one week from that day we were all astonished and puzzled to the fullest measure to see that same dog return home. But he was so desperately hurt that he never did get entirely over It.”
A FIGHT TO THE DEATH BETWEEN A WILD BOAR AND BEAR
By S. C. Turnbo
Among those people who were born and reared in Boone County, Ark., is James R. Dean and W. M. (Marion) Dean, sons of Burrel Dean who come to Carroll County when he was a small lad of a boy. Their mother, Miss Melvina Simmons, was born and raised in what is now Boone County and so was their father. Their father and mother were married when northwest Arkansas was thinly settled and lived on Crooked Creek 8 or 9 miles above Harrison not far from the white church house. Burrel Dean, father of Jim and Marion Dean, come with Abner Crump and John Crump from the state of Alabama. John Crump was the father of Wm. W. and George Crump. The former was an officer in Col. Shaler’s 27th Arkansas regiment and died at Center, Indian Territory, October 7, 1906. Their mother was raised by Dick Wright who was among the first settlers on upper Crooked Creek. Wright was her grandfather. He died on Bear Creek ten miles north of Harrison. Burrel Dean lies buried in the union soldiers graveyard at Fayetteville and the mortal remains of their mother rest In the cemetery at the white church. At the present writing Jim Dean lives near Protem, Taney County, Mo., and Yarion when I interviewed him on the 15 of July, 1906, lived at Collinsville, Cherokee Nation. They both give a few names of the old time citizens who lived in the neighborhood of where they were raised. Among them were Jim Mays, Jim Dowell and Hugh Coffman. The latter was blind. One day while Jim Dean lived on the bluff on the North side of White River from Bradley’s ferry he told me the following story which may interest those people who like to read about fierce encounters between wild animals that have took place from time to time in the hills of the Ozarks. Mr. Dean said that soon after the town of Harrison began Its existence, he was employed by some of the merchants to haul goods from Springfield, Mo. “I made many trips, ” said he. “Sometimes I was alone, at other times accompanied by other freighters. In the fall of the year when the weather was dry and pleasant and the roads in good condition I enjoyed being out. It was healthy to travel and breathe the balmy atmosphere and drink of the pure springs of water as found along the road. The road also traversed a broken country where fine views of towering hills spread out before the traveler. During cold wintry days though, when snow, Ice, rain and swollen streams intervene, the freighters humor is changed from a smile to a frown. All this fine landscape then does not appear so beautiful and hauling goods was not so much enjoyed. Since the construction of the St. Louis and North Ark. railroad to Harrison freighting goods from Springfield to Harrison by wagons has come to an end. On a certain occasion during the autumn days when the foliage of the trees began to assume varigated colors I was hauling a load of goods for George W. Coker who was then in the mercantile business at Harrison, but now one of the leading merchants of Lead Hill. One night while on the return trip I camped in the Layton Pineries midway between the Layton sawmill place and Omaha which are about 8 miles apart. But just before stopping I met a noted hunter of the name of Jimmie Youngblood. This man was also a gunsmith and repaired a number of rifles for the settlers. Youngblood had been hunting that day and informed me that a bear and wild boar had met and fought desperately in the afternoon. My curiosity being aroused I drove to where Youngblood said it occurred and camped. The old hunter went with me and we stayed together that night. The combat had taken place among tall pine trees which stood near the road on the slope of a hill. It was a battle to the death, and as I viewed the scene of the terrific encounter I imagined how savagely they measured their strength and ferocity against each other. Mr. Youngblood stated that while he was hunting in the forenoon he struck the trail of a bear that had been made a few hours previous. He put his dog on the trail of the bear and he and the dog followed the animal slowly to where it had met the boar. Though Youngblood did not witness the encounter, yet evidence was not wanting to testify that the conflict was something awful. It made me shudder while viewing the scene of the combat. Over the space of half an acre grass and weeds were trampled down and spotted with blood that flowed from the bleeding and mangled animals. Bushes were torn out of the ground, out in twain and stripped of bark. It Is unknown how long they fought before they got too weak to continue the struggle, but it must of been some length of time. The bear lay dead on the field of battle; seven deep gashes had been out into its body by the boars tusks. The boar was just able to leave the scene where its antagonist lay and was found dead 50 yards away. The bear had also done most deadly work, for besides other desperate wounds inflicted on the boar it had torn a large piece of flesh from its back. It was supposed that the bear had died first, and seemingly the wild hog had come out a little ahead; but its life was too short to boast of its victory. The bear was of medium size and rather thin in order. The boar was large and in fine condition, would have weighed 400 pounds gross more or less. The bear was so terribly mangled by its ferocious adversary that only a small part of its flesh was fit for use, but Youngblood dressed the best parts of it, and I and the old bear hunter and gunfixer eat of it for supper and breakfast.”
A BEAR CREATES A PANIC AMONG A LOT OF HUCKLEBERRY PICKERS
By S. C. Turnbo
It is amusing to listen at some of the stories of old settlers and hear them relate their experience in the wild forest where the beasts of the field roamed at will and held away until they were swept out by the fearless hunter with his trusty rifle and trained dogs. It was many years after the invasion of the white hunter before the wild beast were forced from their haunts in the mountain gorges. Though we have said that some of the accounts of getting in close quarters with the more dangerous wild animals were amusing while other stories of contacts were serious. The funny side of the old timers tales are as entertaining and as true as other information gathered from those gray haired veteran citizens and hunters. We have already given a sketch or two of Clinton Mountain in Van Buren County, Arkansas, in other series of these stories and we propose to relate another one of this locality which occurred many years ago.
Page Hatchet lived near 20 miles north of Clinton, the county seat of Van Buren County. His residence consisted of a comfortable hewed log house which stood at the foot of the mountain and was a noted stopping place for travelers. Mr. Hatchet was a son in law of the old man Hunter who lived on Choctaw Creek 5 miles below Clinton. Hatchet was a prominent citizen as well as a hunter of considerable renown and was among the earliest settlers of that section. His stories of exciting scenes among the wild beast that once Inhabited that part of Arkansas if put in print would fill a big book of entertaining reading. But as we cannot tell all of them we will tell one of them which he considered one of his best which he declared was true and relates to a bear entering a huckleberry patch while a lot of women and children were gathering huckleberries. One day in the last days of January, 1866. I met Mr. Hatchet where he lived and he told me several interesting stories of pioneer life in that region. Among them is the one referred to which he told in the following way, and we are convinced that his account of it will cause a smile to crawl over the reader’s countenance as he peruses the story.
“On top of the Clinton Mountain near one mile from my house is a pond of water where cattle and horses as well as deer and other animals quench their thirst. This water is surrounded by a fine huckleberry thicket. The growth of these bushes are so vigorous that I have not known them to fall of bearing fruit at the proper season, especially in the more earlier years. These bushes were found in numerous places on all the mountains when I first come here and afforded all the huckleberries the settlers needed. This thicket I refer to was more noted than other patches I knew of for the reason that when the berries were ripe men, women and children would assemble here day after day when the small but delicious fruit was ready for use. The denizens of the forest are plentiful now but more so several years back. It was considered dangerous for women and children to go there alone for fear they might be attacked by a wild animal and they were hardly ever allowed to go there without protection, and it was often the case that the men would go along with guns and dogs and stand guard while their wives and children gathered the berries. But no one was ever attacked by “a varmint” or other mishap occurred to anyone that visited this place until one day a goodly number of women assembled at the pond to take in a big lot of the ripe berries. That kind of wild fruit hit well that year and it seemed that every woman who lived in reach of that huckleberry thicket wanted to collect a big supply of the berries. On the occasion just mentioned my wife and children were with the bunch of ladies who had collected. Besides my own children there were a number of other boys and girls. I went along with my gun to keep the wild beast from interfering should any attemp to molest them. There was not a dog brought along for company even. All the women carried a vessel of some kind to hold the berries in and consisted of coffee pots, cedar pails, nogging, wooden buckets, half bushels and so on. Each woman carried some sort of a vessel and so did all the children that were old enough to do anything. The majority of the little men and women carried half pint, pints and quart cups. On arriving at the pond the women and children were soon busy at work and began to scatter all through the thicket to fill their vessels with the pretty ripe berries which were so plentiful that they could fill them rapidly and so they all worked like honey bees. I took my station to watch for the approach of bear, panther, or wolves until finally I grew weary of guard duty and apprehending no danger from wild animals I placed my rifle against a tree and In 5 minutes more I was as deeply interested as the others were in gathering berries. In the meantime the women and children grew more separated and were too busy to notice anything but the loaded huckleberry bushes and they gathered the fruit as fast as they could work their fingers. There was no talking and laughing and silence reigned supreme. In a half an hour I was so absorbed with my work that I had left my gun some distance. It was now that I happened to raise my head and was astonished to see a big bear approaching the pond of water to drink. None of the others had as yet discovered it, for he did not happen to pass near any of them. I gave a signal of alarm at once and they all raised up to see what was the matter, and I gave another signal for all to conceal themselves and every woman and child hid among the huckleberry bushes. Bruin did not seem to pay the least attention to what was going on but walked on slowly toward the water. Mr. Bear was only a short distance from my rifle and I ran to the tree where I had left the gun and grabbed up the weapon and aimed it behind Bruin’s shoulder and pulled the trigger, but being in a hurry, excitement got the best of me which made my aim bad and the bullet struck the bear too high up. But he fell and lay still. Believing I had only wounded him and that he might get up I stood where I shot from and poured a charge of powder into my gun and rammed down a naked bullet on top of it. Just as I jerked my gunstick out the infuriated animal rose to its feet and charged at me with its mouth wide open. As the black beast made its rush the woman and children all raised up to see the bear and were terror stricken at once and such a panic among them was never witnessed before on Clinton Mountain. Such screaming and hallooing the forest fairly echoed with the noise. They all dashed their vessels down as they ran and spilled the berries on the ground all over the thicket. The scene at that moment would have afforded an artist an interesting and ludicrous picture. Every one except myself was rushing pell mell to escape the enraged beast. I was scared bad enough to run too but I knew it was best to make an effort to stand my ground. The bear made no halt but come as fast as he could toward me. I did not forget to prime my gun and by the time he was in a few yards of me I was ready to shoot, and hurriedly pointed the gun at the bear’s forehead, but from some cause I did not pull the trigger until his bearship’s nose almost touched the muzzle of the rifle and then I shot him in the mouth. At the report of