History of Page County, Iowa : also biographical sketches of some prominent citizens of the county, Vol. I, Part 24

Author: Kershaw, W. L
Publication date: 1909
Publisher: Chicago : S.J. Clarke Publishing Co.
Number of Pages: 500


USA > Iowa > Page County > History of Page County, Iowa : also biographical sketches of some prominent citizens of the county, Vol. I > Part 24


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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46


To the ordinary man, unacquainted with the intricacies of the art of war, war is presumed to endanger life and hazard property, as was evidenced in a political debate years later in one of the counties east of Page and in one of the border counties at that. The fight had become personal and one of the candidates asked the other what he proposed to do with the swamp land he had stolen from the county. The other replied that he got it for the purpose of pasturing the mules that his questioner had stolen during the border war.


The effect of this treaty was beyond the conception of the parties who condemned it. In place of turning the Union men of northern Missouri over to the tender mercies of a gang of bushwhackers and keeping the border in a turmoil, the result was quite the contrary. Owing to the active and successful campaign the Federal army made in central Missouri, the rebel


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sympathizers along the border held their peace and never again while the war lasted was the border threatened by an invasion.


SERGEANT GOODMAN AND THE GUERRILLAS.


Thomas M. Goodman lived at Hawleyville at the outbreak of the Civil war, and on October 1, 1862, enlisted in the Thirteenth Missouri Infantry, Company K, afterward the Twenty-fifth Missouri Infantry, Colonel Hard- ing commanding. This regiment afterwards consolidated with the First Missouri Engineer Regiment, in which he was serving at the time of his capture. After Sergeant Goodman's escape he returned to his home at Hawleyville, which is the oldest town in Page county, situated in Ne- braska township, and about seven miles northeast of Clarinda. Goodman's escape from slaughter, in the first instance, was simply providential, and the vicissitudes overtaking him during his ten days' experiences while a prisoner certainly make interesting reading. The tale is given practically in Goodman's own language and is here reproduced from a small volume published at his instance in 1868. He and the other three Page county men of his regiment who met a dreadful end, James Mobley, Cass Rose and - Barnum, were well known by people still living in the county.


Ten days following the capture of Atlanta, Georgia, and its occupation by the federal forces, myself and some twenty others were made glad by the reception of our long promised and eagerly expected furloughs. I have often wondered if the word furlough gave the faintest possible idea to the mind of a civilian of all that it expressed to a soldier's heart and ear. Is it possible that our worldly wise, toiling patriots who stayed at home "smell- ing the battle from afar" and satisfying their natural pride of country by the praises bestowed upon her brave defenders, --- I say I have often won- dered if such men knew what a furlough meant, or was it possible that they could? I honestly believe not. We left Atlanta on the 22d day of Sep- tember, 1864. At Big Shanty, thirty-five miles from Atlanta, we found the track torn up, thus necessitating the stoppage of our train. Wheeler's (rebel) cavalry had made a sudden dash, surprised the guard and destroyed some eighty rods or more of the line before they were driven off by a re- inforcement sent from the guard station above. Luckily many of us be- longed to the First Missouri Engineer Regiment and had experience in railroad construction. We all therefore worked with a will and zeal never to be obtained from a soldier only in emergencies like this, and in the course of some four or five hours, all was declared properly completed, and with loud cheers we bid adieu to the scene of Wheeler's exploit. We arrived at Chattanooga in safety. without meeting with any further accident or delay, or "sighting" so much as a "rag" of Wheeler's bobtailed rebs-although the busy tongued "half and halfs" edified us at every station with long yarns about the large force Wheeler had, and their solemn belief he de- signed to make a simultaneous attack on all their guard stations upon that particular day-or some other. Well, we guessed it was "some other," for the threatened raid never was made and we doubt very much if the general


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ever designed such a foolhardy experiment. Be that as it may, their pur- pose was to alarm our conductor and I verily believe they succeeded, as he certainly evinced more nervousness than the occasion seemed to justify. They certainly failed in producing any impression on the furlough squad, for we consumed the time between Chattanooga and Nashville in laughing, chatting, and that most pleasant of all accomplishments "chawing your friends' terbacker." I might as well add here, we were taught this accom- plishment by the ladies of Tennessee. There is no denying the fact-Tenn- essee ladies are "up to snuff."


In due course of time Nashville was reached. Demands were promptly made upon various institutions of the city and I am free to confess we found the most of them in liquidation and surrounded by a vast congregation of the patriotic defenders of the nation. They manifested considerable spirit in their interest to obtain an interview with the proprietors of the aforesaid institutions.


From Nashville to Louisville our progress was retarded by the trains from the north being all out of time and at many stations we were delayed for some hours awaiting the arrival of trains then due. It soon became monotonous and tiresome and as night approached, individual members of our squad wrapped themselves in the "mantle of their thoughts" (having no other, and the night was cool), and resigned themselves to the selfishness of silence. In the early morn all were aroused by the loud, cheery voice of our conductor : "Wake up, boys ! Louisville -- terminus!" The next mo- ment the squad of discontents were on their feet and all was life, clamor and confusion. "Hurrah!" shouted one, "Near God's country at last!" "Bully for God's country !" responded a cavalryman, with an adjunct so ex- pressive of his morality it left a doubt in my mind as to his ever reaching God's country.


From Louisville across the Ohio to New Albany, thence to Mitchell, thence via the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad, the squad pursued their jour- ney. Nothing of interest occurred en route and at last we reached St. Louis, at which point we expected to have separated, each pursuing his separate and individual choice homeward. However, upon comparing routes we found that our squad was nearly all going some distance further in the same direction and we agreed upon the North Missouri Railroad as the nearest and speediest route for all. In our squad and residents of Iowa, be- side myself, were three other soldiers, all of Page county, namely : Barnum, Rose and Mobley. We were also joined in this city by Edward Pace. a discharged soldier, also a resident of Taylor county, Iowa. Some of the Missouri boys being very anxious to get home, left St. Louis on the evening train, September 26th, while the remainder of us concluded to rest over that night in the city and take the morning train for St. Joseph on the 27th. Accordingly a division ensued and quite a number left the evening of the day we arrived in St. Louis. That evening while at the depot of the North Missouri Railroad, I entered into conversation with a gentleman who had come down the road from Macon on that day. He. ascertaining that we were furloughed soldiers and designed to go upon the road, remarked that


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he did not consider the government was doing right in permitting the mail trains to pass over the road unguarded, stating at the same time, that the entire route would soon be infested and controlled by guerrillas, that large bodies of them had been observed for a few days past near Sturgeon, Cen- tralia and other points, and that he felt confident they contemplated an attack soon. He said, also, that the directors of the road had been informed of the fact but they apparently paid no attention to it. The intelligence thus received I am confident was imparted in good faith and with the intent upon the part of the gentleman giving it, to at least place us upon our guard. From occurrences that speedily followed, I am satisfied every word he said with reference to the apathy of the directors of the road was founded in truth-not to admit their apathy originated in no worse design or complicity with the rebels themselves. Even this latter view of the case has long been honestly believed by many cognizant of the affair, and to me seemingly justified, by the facts I learned from the guerrillas afterward. Be that as it may, the intelligence was anything but satisfactory or pleasant to me, and I was greatly concerned in my mind as to the welfare of the boys who had preceded us on the evening train, as I supposed naturally enough the guerrillas would attack at night rather than daylight. In this, however, subsequent events proved me mistaken.


At a very early hour on the morning of September 27, 1864, our boys took seats aboard the mail train for St. Joseph, Missouri, and leaving St. Louis in the gray mist of morn, the train ran rapidly up to St. Charles, where, crossing the Missouri river, you proceed to Macon, connecting with the Hannibai & St. Joe Railroad. This was to have been the point where we would have overtaken the boys who passed up the evening before and you will judge our surprise when entering the car at St. Charles we found our boys had laid over at this point instead of proceeding on to Macon. A ques- tion or so soon satisfied 11s that they had heard the same intelligence at St. Charles which reached us at St. Louis and they felt a good deal better and braver at the sight of so many boys in blue. There is no use denying it, if not alarmed, they were considerably excited before leaving the city of St. Charles by the common chat of the employes in and about the depot. From their hints and half uttered warnings, given it is true, in badly uttered and rough language such as the following: "Ye are brave now ain't you? Begorra and you need to be, for the guerrillas will be after ye, sure." Such sallies were only received by our boys with some similar reply, reflecting upon the courage of the rebels, and yet one could easily see that too general a knowledge of the presence of guerrillas upon the road was present, to doubt or question the truth of the information. Having once had my suspicions aroused it was a difficult matter for me to allay them and I watched keenly every movement of our conductor prior to the start of the train. I did not like the man's countenance, and circumstances which have transpired since, have left the impression indelibly fixed upon my mind that in some way that man was a party to the Centralia massacre. As though conviction of his participation in that infamous act yet haunted his imagination, two years afterward, that same conductor refused to "go out on his own train," upon


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learning that myself and a number of the comrades of the slain soldiers of Centralia were aboard the train. Why he acted thus 1 am unable to say, as I am not aware that any threats of danger to himself had been made by any of our party in his hearing, yet he positively refused to go, and another con- ductor took charge of his train. Perhaps it was as well he took the pre- caution to remain at home. Onward thundered the train, bearing uncon- sciously in its grim, fierce way its freight of human souls toward eternity ! Hark ; the shrill scream of our iron horse gives us, again, warning of a station, and with this dying note, a clank and a clang, the train stops-Mexico is reached. Amidst much excitement the train moved forward and many an eye gazed for the last time in life upon each other. It seemed to me and others, that our train was soon moving at an unusual speed, so much so in- deed, it was made the subject of comment both among civilians and soldiers, and all were hoping it would continue until we passed the threatened danger.


Upon the approach of the train to Centralia, it soon became evident our fears of an attack were not entirely groundless. Quite a large body of mounted and dismounted men could be seen in and around the station build- ings, and as we drew nearer the excitement increased among the boys, as some of them recognized peculiarities in the crowd that stamped them guer- rillas, and our natural enemies. The train was moving rapidly and our hope was based upon the conductor passing at full speed. Probably from obstruc- tions on the track, or from reasons of his own, he failed to make the at- tempt, and sounded the whistle to stop. I was seated beside a soldier of the First Iowa Cavalry. and when he heard the whistle he jumped up, looked out of the window, and turning back to us said: "There are guerrillas there, sure." In a moment more we were inside a line of blazing, murderous weapons, and volley after volley was poured into the train until we came to a dead stop. Our fears were active as to our fate, for we were totally un- armed. Scarcely had the motion of the train ceased, ere with yells and shouts the guerillas in a body rushed toward the cars. In a moment after the door of the car in which our squad, or a larger number of them sat, was burst open, and in crowded our grim, fierce captors, shouting "Surrender ! Sur- render!" Our boys had collected around the center of the car and ap- parently looked as though they intended resistance to this demand. Some one of the guerrillas continued : "Surrender quietly and you shall be treated as prisoners of war." Some one of our boys answered. "We can only surrender, as we are totally unarmed."


In a moment, changed was the spirit of our conquerors. The olive branch of peace, the protestations of humane treatment were withdrawn. and learn- ing our defenseless condition, these half cowed wretches of the moment before became the lawless freebooters, the inhuman monsters rumor had always designated them. For each guerrilla to single out his man, threaten- ingly present his weapon and demand the life or money of his powerless vic- tim, was but the work of a moment-an evidently prearranged matter, so quickly and quietly was it done. Not one man escaped, so systematic was their plan and so eager their greed for plunder.


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Had we escaped with this, how much of grief and sorrow would loved ones have been spared! The worst, however, was yet to come. When we were ordered to "fall into line," our hearts were filled with vague appre- hension of their purpose, and when ordered to strip off our clothes, these suspicions became certainties and we began to contemplate the king of ter- rors-death-as perhaps our speediest deliverance from a worse fate. The line was formed and ready. Stripped of all save their underclothing, the men awaited calmly the fatal signal. Anderson, the chief of the guerrillas, approached the line. The squad of executioners awaited only his signal, and for a few seconds the eye of their chieftain wandered thoughtfully over the doomed men. He suddenly addressed them: "Boys, have you a sergeant in your ranks?" The silence remained unbroken. No one answered from the line. We only wondered what his inquiry would lead to. Again the chief repeated his inquiry. Silence, solemn as the grave, pervaded the rank. Once more, in a louder tone, he asked the question, adding, "If there be one, let him step aside."


Almost involuntarily I moved beyond the rank, still wondering what could be his purpose, and fearing to continue longer silent, as I observed the man who had taken my coat approach his chief, and I knew that the stripes on my sleeve would designate the rank which I held.


Anderson then came forward himself and directed two of his men to take charge of me and remove me from the spot. They at once conducted me to the rear and I halted there, reserved for what fate I could not then foretell. There were other men in that doomed line holding the rank of sergeant, and to this day it has been a matter of wonder to me what impulse compelled me to advance. If they thought as I did, as to what the question of the guerrilla chief tended, I can now see and appreciate their object in preserving silence. His object in the selection of a sergeant from that rank, I then thought, was based on a desire to make some special example in his punishment. Hence my silence, until the moment I saw silence would perhaps prove only an ag- gravation of the punishment designed to be inflicted. I had scarcely stopped at the position assigned me, when a volley from the revolvers of the guerrillas in front, a demoniac yell from those surrounding, mingled with cries and moans of pain and distress from my comrades smote upon my ear. I turned, and, God of Heaven, what a sight I beheld! The line had disappeared. Many of my late comrades lay dead upon the ground. Others were groan- ing in the agony of their wounds and yet others, wounded and suffering, were making a last struggle for existence in seeking to avoid further injury. One brave man, Sergeant Peters, made a desperate struggle for his life and succeeded in felling a number of his assailants and obtaining a tempo- rary respite beneath the station office. It was fired at once and finally by force of circumstances alone the fiends succeeded in killing their victim. Such a scene as I witnessed then it is impossible to describe. The work of death went on, and one by one my brave comrades met their fate-brutally, inhumanly murdered. The flames roared and flashed about this scene of blood and the dense, black cloud of smoke hung around the spot, as though to hide it from the light of day. The guerrillas, with horrid oaths and


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wild, fierce looks, gloated over the bodies of the slain, or spurned them from their path with brutal violence. Civilians stood trembling by, eager perhaps to express their sympathy for the dead in words and tears, but fear of a like fate forbade. A party of guerrillas now set fire to the train, and amidst shouts and yells the whistle sounding its own funeral dirge, it was started up the track. The fiends had now reached a state of excitement bordering on insanity and then followed a scene of turbulence it is in vain to try to describe.


The position in which I stood, to the rear of a line of mounted guerrillas, only enabled me to become a witness of a part of their infernal orgies. The yells and horrid curses of the wretches commingled with the piteous moans of my suffering, wounded comrades, and now and then I could hear the dull thud of the carbine stroke that ended forever the suffering of some prostrate form. At last it was over-the carnival of blood ended !


This scene so horrible in its details, thank God, was but one of short dura- tion, occupying from the arrival of the train to the death of their last vic- tim, scarcely one hour. So occupied had been my senses in the comtempla- tion of the awful death of my comrades, I had not given a thought to myself, and at last when I saw naught was left upon which they could further eke out their bloody desires, thought came back to self, and I expected every moment to be called forth and to become, as it were, the last victim upon the hellish altar of hate, erected by these demons, and reeking with the blood of innocent, defenseless men. That I escaped, I-alone-thank God! Of my peril, you will hear anon.


Awaiting in breathless anxiety and suspense the ordeal, I fancied through which I was doomed to pass, I noted every movement made by the guer- rillas with the keenest interest, expecting every moment to hear the guard ordered to bring forth their man. Apparently something was soon to be done, as they had left their victims where they had fallen and a number had gathered about Anderson, while the majority went in quest of their horses. Every one who passed me in the preparations they were making, heaped abuse and curses upon my head, and not infrequently a carbine or revolver was placed in close proximity thereto, with the threat: "I would like to kill the d-n Yankee." "Hell-fire is too good for you, you -


and hundreds of such expressions, too obscene and infamous to be printed. Twice my guard had all they could do to prevent a drunken squad of them from taking me from them, and it was only by a threat upon the part of the guard of calling for Anderson, they desisted in their purpose. Again and again I was compelled to endure such abuse from the lips or hands of every guerrilla who noticed me. I never once made reply or attempted to resent these insults, as I well knew, and my guard cautioned me "that they only sought some provocation from me as an excuse to Anderson, in case they killed me." This was the first act approaching anything to humanity I had witnessed from a guerrilla that day, and tended to leave me with a less distrustful feeling of my guard. The guerrillas as last began to mount their horses, and Anderson leading, by twos and twos, they fell into line and marched out from the station. I was placed upon a mule and a guard of


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two men rode on either side of me. The maimed bodies of the Union boys lay where they had fallen and here and there wandering listlessly among the slain you could observe some few civilians, while others stood idly at their doors or near the depot grounds, gazing, half amazed and wonderingly on the scene, as though they had not fully recovered from the shock of the revolting spectacle they had so recently witnessed.


The guerrillas proceeded in a northwesterly direction toward a temporary camp they had established, about two and a half miles from Centralia. When about a half mile from the latter place, the noise made by an ap- proaching train was heard and looking toward its direction, we beheld a freight train approaching Centralia from the south. Immediately twenty of thirty guerrillas detached themselves from the main column and dashed rapidly over the prairie, aiming it seemed, to intercept the train before it reached the station. We continued on to the camp. I was told by the guerrillas afterward that they captured the train and burned it on the track near Centralia.


We reached their camp. It was on the edge of the prairie where the brush and timber jutted up from the southwest and had simply been chosen as a temporary spot for stragglers, scouts and others to assemble during their operations on that day. Their horses were unsaddled and picketed. while the men threw themselves upon the ground, and in a little while the majority were soundly sleeping away the effects of their inebriation and exciting conquest. I tried to follow their example and courted sleep in the vain hope it would bring me some ease of mind and body. The very un- certainty that hung about my future I think brought with the thought far greater torture of spirit than even death inflicts. I could not obtain the coveted boon of even momentary forgetfulness in sleep, and I at last began wondering and speculating on the circumstances that could possibly have made the quiet, calm host who lay slumbering near, the incarnate fiends whose deeds of blood I had but lately witnessed. So wondering. I looked upon their chief. I observed him closely, for I felt a singular interest in the man whose simple word had snatched me from the jaws of death. My interest was increased by overhearing the following from the lips of two of the guerrillas, who lay partly shaded in the brush, a few steps beyond me : "I say, Bill. I wonder how in the h-1 Anderson has permitted that d-11 Yankee to live so long ?" "Dun no," was the reply ; "Can't say lest like 'twas a Providence ; for 'taint like old Bill, is 't?"


William T. Anderson, the leader of the most bloodthirsty and inhuman gang of wretches that ever infested Missouri, was a man of about five feet. ten inches in height, round and compact in form, slender in person, quick and lithe in action as a tiger-whose nature he at times possessed. His com- plexion naturally was soft and very fair but had taken a tinge of brown from his exposed manner of life. His face was in no sense attractive or win- ning, neither was it repulsive. It only left you wondering what manner of man it mirrored to your view. His eye, said to be the index to character. portrayed not his. It was unfathomable,-a strange mixture of blue and gray. the opposing colors sustained by opposing forces, in the war he waged.


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They were cold, unsympathizing and expressionless, never firing in anger or lighting with enthusiasm in battle. I have his word for it, they were never known to melt in pity, and I was the first man who wore the federal blue, who had fallen in his power, whose life he had ever spared. His hair was his greatest ornament and hung in thick, clustering masses about his head and neck ; in color, a rich dark brown. His style of dress and clothing were typical of his life and nature and seemed to blend something of taste, something of roughness, and much that was indicative of his inclinations and pursuits, in its ornament and the fabric of which it was composed. To be never called "unarmed" was his great pride and care, one would suppose, for, see him when and where you might, a brace or so of revolvers were stuck in his belt. Such was the personal appearance of this famous chieftain, and I really believe I have done him justice in the description. At least, I honestly aimed to do it.




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