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- Herausgeber: Charles River Editors
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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THE BORDER OUTLAWS & THE BORDER BANDITS
James W. Buel
LACONIA PUBLISHERS
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All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.
Copyright © 2017 by James W. Buel
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE BORDER OUTLAWS.
PREFACE.
NATIVITY, AND CAUSES WHICH LED TO GUERRILLA LIFE.
COLE YOUNGER’S FIRST FIGHT UNDER QUANTRELL.
THE DESPERATE FIGHT AT TATE’S HOUSE.
THE SLAUGHTER AT BLUE CUT.
THE MOST REMARKABLE FIGHT DURING THE WAR.
HISTORY OF THE BLACK FLAG.
THE PILLAGE OF OSCEOLA.
THE SECOND FIGHT AT THE BLUE CUT.
THE BATTLE OF WALNUT CREEK.
AMBUSCADES AND HARD FIGHTING.
THE FIGHT AT INDEPENDENCE.
THE BATTLE OF LONE JACK.
ASSASSINATION OF COL. HENRY W. YOUNGER.
SKIRMISHES, AMBUSCADES AND EXECUTIONS.
THE SEPARATION AND COMBATS IN DIFFERENT FIELDS.
COLE YOUNGER’S ESCAPE THROUGH THE STRATEGY OF A NEGRO WOMAN.
CHRISTMAS FROLIC IN KANSAS CITY.
MRS. YOUNGER FORCED TO FIRE HER OWN HOME.
A BITTER WINTER AND PERSISTENT SKIRMISHING.
PROGRESS OF CRIMES WHICH THE WAR INAUGURATED.
THE TERRIBLE “BLACK OATH.”
THE FIRST BANK ROBBERY—AT LIBERTY, MISSOURI.
JOHN YOUNGER’S FIRST FIGHT.
DESPERATE ATTEMPT AT JAIL DELIVERY.
THE LEXINGTON BANK ROBBERY.
THE BANK ROBBERY AT SAVANNAH, MO.
THE ROBBERY AND BITTER FIGHT AT RICHMOND, MISSOURI.
THE RUSSELLVILLE BANK ROBBERY.
THE TRAGIC RESULTS OF A HORSE RACE.
ROBBING THE GALLATIN, MISSOURI, BANK.
THE HANGING OF JOHN YOUNGER.
THE MURDER OF SHERIFF NICHOLS.
THE CORYDON, IOWA, BANK ROBBERY.
THE COLUMBIA, KENTUCKY, BANK ROBBERY.
A DARING RAID AT THE KANSAS CITY FAIR.
THE STE. GENEVIEVE, MO., BANK ROBBERY.
ROBBING A TRAIN IN IOWA.
THE HOT SPRINGS STAGE ROBBERY.
ROBBING A TRAIN AT GAD’S HILL.
THE DEATH OF TWO DETECTIVES.
ROBBING A TEXAS STAGE.
COLE YOUNGER’S EPISTOLARY VINDICATION.
THE TRAIN ROBBERY AT MUNCIE, KANS.
THE HUNTINGTON, VIRGINIA, BANK ROBBERY.
THE MISSOURI PACIFIC RAILROAD ROBBERY.
THE NORTHFIELD BANK ROBBERY AND TRAGEDY.
CAPTURE OF THE YOUNGER BROTHERS.
A PROPOSITION TO MURDER JIM YOUNGER.
AN INTERESTING CORRESPONDENCE FROM COLE YOUNGER.
A PERSONAL INTERVIEW WITH COLE YOUNGER.
HOW A DUEL TO THE DEATH WAS PREVENTED.
ATTEMPTS TO LIBERATE THE YOUNGER BROTHERS.
THE BORDER BANDITS.
PREFACE.
THEIR CAREER AS GUERRILLAS.
THE FIRST SKIRMISHES.
THE DESOLATION OF LAWRENCE.
DESPERATE FIGHTING BY SQUADS.
DIREFUL MASSACRE AT CENTRALIA.
FORTUNE TURNING AGAINST THE GUERRILLAS.
THE WHIRLWIND OF DESTRUCTION CHANGES.
JESSE JAMES’ CAREER IN TEXAS.
ROBBERY AND MURDER.
PLUNDERING A KENTUCKY BANK.
BANK ROBBERY AND MURDER.
THE MYSTERIOUS HIDING PLACE IN JACKSON COUNTY.
A TERRIBLE FIGHT IN MEXICO.
PLUNDERING AN IOWA BANK.
ANOTHER BANK ROBBERY IN KENTUCKY.
ROBBING OF THE CASH-BOX AT THE KANSAS CITY FAIR,
PLUNDERING THE STE. GENEVIEVE BANK.
WRECKING AND PLUNDERING A TRAIN.
THE STAGE ROBBERY NEAR HOT SPRINGS.
THE TRAIN ROBBERY AT GAD’S HILL.
WICHER’S UNFORTUNATE HUNT FOR THE JAMES BOYS.
MURDERING COW-BOYS AND DRIVING OFF CATTLE.
THE ATTACK ON THE SAMUELS RESIDENCE.
ASSASSINATION OF DANIEL ASKEW.
THE SAN ANTONIO STAGE ROBBERY.
THE GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY AT MUNCIE.
THE HUNTINGTON BANK ROBBERY.
THE ROCKY CUT TRAIN ROBBERY.
THE FATAL ATTACK ON A MINNESOTA BANK.
AT GLENDALE—THE LAST GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY.
SHOOTING OF JESSE JAMES BY GEO. SHEPHERD.
WHY DID SHEPHERD SHOOT JESSE JAMES?
ROBBERY OF THE MAMMOTH CAVE STAGES.
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE JAMES BOYS.
THE UNION PACIFIC EXPRESS ROBBERY.
AN INTERVIEW WITH THE YOUNGER BROTHERS.
ANECDOTES OF JESSE AND FRANK JAMES.
BASSHAM’S CONFESSION OF THE GLENDALE ROBBERY.
ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES, APRIL 3, 1882.
THE BORDER OUTLAWS.
AN AUTHENTIC AND THRILLING HISTORY OF THE MOSTNOTED BANDITS OF ANCIENT OR MODERN TIMES,
THE YOUNGER BROTHERS,
JESSE AND FRANK JAMES,ANDTHEIR COMRADES IN CRIME.
COMPILED FROM RELIABLE SOURCES ONLY AND CONTAINING THE LATEST FACTS IN REGARD TO THESE CELEBRATED OUTLAWS.
BY J. W. BUEL,
Author of “Heroes of the Plains,” “Legends of the Ozarks,” and other popular works.
PREFACE.
AN AUTHENTIC HISTORY OF THE desperate adventures of the four Younger Brothers has become a necessity. Their lives require no romantic or exaggerated shading to make the narrative remarkable. Their deeds are as prominent in the archives of guerrilla warfare as their names are familiar on the border. But with a comprehension of the morbid appetites of many readers, newspaper and pamphlet writers have created and colored crimes with reckless extravagance, and then placed upon them the impress of the Younger Brothers, because the character of these noted guerrilla outlaws made the desperate acts credited to them not improbable. The difficulties encountered in procuring facts connected with the stirring escapades of the outlaw quartette, have heretofore been overcome by imaginative authors and correspondents, giving in minute detail incidents with which their creative genius is at all times well supplied. These remarks are not intended to disparage the merit of any contributor to the annals of border history, but rather to excite a proper suspicion on the part of the public against a too ready belief of every adventure, fight or robbery charged to the Younger Brothers.
The part they acted during the great civil strife has, undoubtedly, been truthfully told, but their career since the close of that dreadful drama has been, in a great measure, elaborated by imagery, until it is difficult for those unacquainted with the facts, to conclude which record is true and which created.
The writer does not claim exception from mistakes, but without arrogating to himself any special merit, it can be truthfully said that the following history of these great outlaws contains a less number of errors and a more reliable and comprehensive description of their valorous deeds than any previous publication. For several weeks prior to the completion of this work, a correspondence was maintained with the Younger Brothers, as well also with the warden of the Minnesota penitentiary, and through this source many new facts were obtained and numerous errors discovered. In addition to this, personal interviews have been had with several old comrades of the Youngers, and with Cole Younger himself; and nothing has been left undone to procure all the facts possible, and to avoid falling into the old mistakes which have been repeated until they have become almost traditionary.
For a considerable period the writer was a resident of Kansas City, where he was engaged in journalism, and made the acquaintance of hundreds of persons who were intimately known to the Younger and James Brothers, and from these also much valuable and trustworthy information was received, which various corroborative sources have enabled the author to reliably write the history of the noted outlaws without resorting to either fiction or romance.
J. W. B.
St. Louis, December 15, 1880.
THE BORDER OUTLAWS.
The Younger Brothers
NATIVITY, AND CAUSES WHICH LED TO GUERRILLA LIFE.
Henry W. Younger, father of the outlaws, was one of the early pioneers of Missouri, having removed to the State in 1825 and settled in Jackson county. Five years later, having arrived at manhood’s estate he was married to a Miss Fristo, a very estimable young lady of Jackson county, and the relation thus formed was a congenial and happy one. Mr. Younger, possessing a fair education, became a prominent citizen in the neighborhood and for the period of eight years he held the position of County Judge, and subsequently was twice elected to the State Legislature. The family became a very large one, consisting of fourteen children, eight of whom are still living, four boys and four girls.
In 1858 Mr. Younger purchased a large tract of land in Cass county, near Harrisonville, to which he removed the same year and began raising stock, in which he was eminently successful and soon became a wealthy man. He made many excellent investments which finally caused his removal to Harrisonville, where he started a livery stable and became interested in two large country stores.
Thomas Coleman, familiarly called Cole, was the second eldest son, having been born in Jackson county January 15th, 1844.
Richard was the senior of Cole by two years, but he died of a malarial fever in 1860 before the exciting events which culminated in a career which has made the family name so prominent.
John was born at the old homestead in Jackson county in 1846, Bruce in 1848, James in 1850, and Robert in December, 1853. It is not important to give the births of any other members of the family, as their names will not figure in the incidents herein recited.
It is not surprising that western Missouri has produced so many remorseless characters, considering the peculiar conditions of her early history. Every student of common school history is familiar with the border warfare which existed between Missouri and Kansas over the slavery question. Old John Brown, whose career terminated at Harper’s Ferry in 1860, was an important factor in that inter-state contest which was waged with almost unexampled fury for many years, to the destruction of a vast amount of property and the loss of hundreds of lives. The border counties of Missouri and Kansas suffered terribly from the incursions of “Jayhawkers” and “Border Ruffians,” afterward guerrillas, as the opposing factions were called; and perforce Col. Henry Younger was involved in the bitter antagonism, as was every property owner in that section.
One of the incidents of the bloody border warfare has been immortalized by the Quaker poet, John G. Whittier, and its reproduction here will serve as a more forcible illustration of the desperate cruelties inflicted in that contest which lighted the camp-fires of Abolitionism and prepared the way of freedom for Southern slaves.
The history of this local event so elegantly and pathetically apotheosized by Whittier is in brief as follows. In the year 1856 Hamilton, whose reputation for fiendish brutality had preceded him, drew his serpent trail across the border and appeared in Miami and Linn counties, Kas., at the head of about fifty conscienceless followers. He pillaged and burned farm houses, laid waste teeming harvests and murdered men, women and children of anti-slavery opinions. The crowning act of his career was the arrest of twenty of the best citizens of Linn Co., all residents of a single neighborhood, whom he bound and carried to a lonely spot on the Marais du Cygne river, near Trading Post, and securing them to stakes, fiendishly shot them one by one. Three of the number, though wounded in a manner which gave evidence of their death, survived to tell the terrible story of that holocaust and become heroes of Whittier’s verse. Two of the survivors are still living, or were during the writer’s residence in Kansas in 1872. One of these, Rev. Reed, is pastor of the Baptist church at Ossawatomie, Miami county, and the other, Asa Hargrove, is a prosperous farmer of Linn county. Such, in brief, are the particulars of that dreadful sacrifice so passionately wreathed with pathetic garlands by one of America’s greatest poets, and many a tear has fallen from the eyes of sympathetic readers upon the pages which relate the story. Following is the poem:
LE MARAIS DU CYGNE.
A blush as of roses
Where rose never grew,
Great drops on the bunch-grass,
But not of the dew!
A taint in the sweet air
For wild bees to shun!
A stain that shall never
Bleach out in the sun!
Back, steed of the prairies!
Sweet song-bird, fly back!
Wheel hither, bald vulture!
Gray wolf, call thy pack!
The foul human vultures
Have feasted and fled;
The wolves of the Border
Have crept from the dead.
From the hearths of their cabins,
The fields of their corn,
Unwarned and unweaponed,
The victims were torn,—
By the whirlwind of murder
Swooped up and swept on,
To the low, reedy fen-lands,
The Marsh of the Swan.
With a vain plea for mercy
No stout knee was crooked;
In the mouths of the rifles
Right manly they looked.
How paled the May sunshine,
O Marais du Cygne!
On death for the strong life,
On red grass for green!
In the homes of their rearing,
Yet warm with their lives,
Ye wait the dead only,
Poor children and wives.
Put out the red forge-fire,
The smith shall not come;
Unyoke the brown oxen,
The ploughman lies dumb.
Wind slow from the Swan’s Marsh,
O dreary death-train,
With pressed lips as bloodless
As lips of the slain!
Kiss down the young eyelids,
Smooth down the gray hairs;
Let tears quench the curses
That burn through your prayers.
Strong man of the prairies,
Mourn bitter and wild!
Wail, desolate woman!
Weep, fatherless child!
But the grain of God springs up
From ashes beneath,
And the crown of his harvest
Is life out of death.
Not in vain on the dial
The shade moves along,
To point the great contrasts
Of right and of wrong;
Free homes and free altars,
Free prairie and flood,—
The reeds of the Swan’s Marsh,
Whose bloom is of blood!
On the lintels of Kansas
That blood shall not dry;
Henceforth the Bad Angel
Shall harmless go by;
Henceforth to the sunset,
Unchecked on her way,
Shall Liberty follow
The march of the day.
At the beginning of hostilities in 1861 the border warfare increased in virulency and the sympathizers on both sides were forced into extreme measures. Col. Younger, though it is claimed he was a Union man, suffered terribly from the Kansas militia, who were operating under the Federal banner. Jennison, who was at the head of the jayhawkers, made a raid through the counties of Jackson and Cass, leaving behind him a trail of burning farms and plundered villages, staying his hand of desolation in the town of Harrisonville, a large portion of which he destroyed; among the property he confiscated was all the livery stock of Col. Younger, consisting of thirty head of horses and several buggies and wagons. This act was bitterly condemned, but there was no other means of compromising the wrong than by avenging it upon the people of Kansas.
From this time the members of the Younger family renounced their Union sentiments and enlisted their sympathy with the Confederate cause. A few weeks afterward Cole Younger sought and found Quantrell, whose force he joined and pledged himself to the fortunes of that dreadful black banner which two years afterward streamed through the bloody streets of Lawrence.
COLE YOUNGER’S FIRST FIGHT UNDER QUANTRELL.
Three is no reason to doubt Cole Younger’s assertion that he joined Quantrell because of outrages perpetrated by jayhawking Federals upon his father, and it must be admitted that he did not renounce his manhood by so doing. It was terrible to see the property of the household confiscated, and other indignities suffered at the hands of those whose banner should have made them friends. Cole Younger was a young man of excellent character, refined by education and a training which made him devoted to his parents. Little wonder, then, that his nature became transformed by such cruelties upon those he loved so well, and when he allied his fortunes with the most desperate man on the border, it was the preliminary step in a determination to have revenge.
When Cole Younger volunteered his services Quantrell’s force had but recently been collected and consisted of thirty-seven men, all of whom were residents of Jackson, Clay and Cass counties. For several weeks this small company confined its adventures to the border counties of Kansas, taking horses and capturing ammunition trains. Capt. Peabody, with a full company of Federals, was sent out by Gen. Jim Lane, who was in command of the Kansas militia, with instructions to capture or kill Quantrell and his band. The trail was readily found and the guerrillas were followed to the house of John Flannery, in Jackson county, where a stand was male January 3d, 1862, and a bitter fight ensued. The Federals surrounded the house and then sent a demand to Quantrell for his surrender. The cunning guerrilla asked for a ten-minute parley with his men, which time being granted, he used it most advantageously in disposing his men so as to make them most effective. At the expiration of the time allowed, Quantrell shouted defiance at his foes, at the same moment discharging his double-barreled shot-gun, which was loaded with buck-shot, killing Peabody’s lieutenant. The fight then began in earnest and for more than an hour it raged with increasing fury. Finding it impossible to dislodge the enemy by pouring shot into the building, Capt. Peabody ordered the torch applied to the house, an act easily accomplished in the rear of the ell of the building, as there were no windows from which an approach from that direction could be commanded. A large quantity of straw was carried from an adjacent stack which, being fired, soon enveloped the frame ell, but ere the flames reached the main building they were quenched by the guerrillas. A second attempt resulted as the first, but the water in the house now being exhausted, the third time fire was set to the building it roared and crackled like a fiend of destruction to be baffled no more. Smoke rolled through the windows and the hot flames came leaping into the rooms, driving the guerrillas from corner to corner and rapidly narrowing the space they stood on until, at last, they were forced to face their foe and stem the torrent of death without protection. By orders of Quantrell, dummies were hastily made of pillows and bed clothing and set in the windows to draw the fire of the Federals, and then bidding his men follow, the desperate guerrilla dashed through the door and broke for the brush, every man emptying his gun at the enemy as he ran. Cole Younger displayed the most remarkable bravery throughout the fight, and at the retreat his recklessness caused him to separate from his command, and but for the operation of what seemed almost a miracle, he must have been killed. Being unacquainted with the place, Cole ran in a different direction from the others of his command and suddenly found his course impeded by a strong picket fence which he could not scale, while the Federals dashed after and fired at him more than a hundred times. After running fully two hundred yards, with a large force in pursuit, he came to a defective place in the fence, and pushed through and started across a field. But, though he had distanced the infantry, there were twelve cavalrymen who saw him, and to tear down the fence was the work of a moment and then the pursuit was renewed. Cole still carried his gun but it was empty, he having had no opportunity to reload, but from time to time he would raise the gun as if intending to fire at his pursuers, and this act would serve to partially check their rapid ride after him. By recourse to such strategies Cole gained the woods and escaped, most singular to relate, without having received the slightest wound.
In this fight the guerrillas lost ten men, but two of these refused to leave the burning building and therefore perished in the flames. The loss of the Federals was eighteen killed and nearly as many more wounded. None of the guerrillas were captured but all their horses fell into the hands of the victors.
THE DESPERATE FIGHT AT TATE’S HOUSE.
The Flannery fight was repeated with remarkable similarity one month after that occurrence. The particulars of this combat, as related by Geo. Shepherd, a participant, to the writer, are as follows: At this time Quantrell’s force consisted of exactly fifty men and was on the march towards Sny-Bar, where it was learned a small detachment of Federals were operating. It was Quantrell’s custom, while on the march, to stop at farm-houses on the way, distributing his men so that their accommodations might be provided for. While enroute for Sny-Bar, night coming on, Quantrell, with twenty-one of his men, stopped at the large farm-house of Major Tate, near Little Santa Fe, in Jackson county. The rest of the company, under Todd, found lodgings five miles further north.
Hard riding had made Quantrell’s men weary, and a fast since morning had whetted their appetites into unusual cravings. Major Tate was a friend of the cause, and a bounteous table, set with all the good things provided by a successful farmer, was the welcome he extended to his guests. Without there was snow and whistling, frosty winds, while within was the crackling log-fire with its reflection of dancing images and warming cheer; hunger-producing odors of fresh meats smothered in rich gravies; smoking sweet potatoes, and the luscious condiments which a thrifty housewife had provided for special occasions; in addition to these seductive refreshments to the hungry there was the brown cruet of freshly drawn cider with its crest of breaking bubbles, and a pyramid of apples red as the cardinal’s robe. It was supper time, and such a lordly feast the guerrillas had not partaken of for many months.
After supper was over, every man, with distended stomach, uncomfortable from excessive fullness, gradually became languid until sleep stole upon them in spite of the good jokes which were passing around and being told with special zest by the jolly Major.
The guerrillas were asleep, all save one who stood sentinel at the gate, his big coat muffling his face from the biting gusts of winter’s winds. Slowly he paced a little beat, his dreamy eyes closing, at times, with fading resolution, but only to open wider when full consciousness was restored. Nine, ten, eleven o’clock, and not a sound to disturb the deep slumbers of the guerrillas. The hour of midnight was approaching, that mysterious time when the dead are permitted to catch glimpses of the earth they once trod in the flesh; that period of brief space when graves open to disgorge their surfeit of dead men, and on which the shadows fall which margin the confines of death and life. Were these gloomy reflections occupying the dreamy mind of that lonesome guard; he who was called to slay and spare not; to hunt, to find, to kill?
“Who are you?” The clock was striking the mysterious hour, and the food for graves was being prepared, but the graves had not yet been dug. It was the voice of the guard who, startled by the tramp of horses’ feet in the crisp snow, gave the guerrilla challenge, and as the road filled up with Federal cavalry there was a single shot, and a rush by the guard into the house. A volley from carbines saluted his entrance, but the door was speedily barred against intruders. Cole Younger, Geo. Shepherd and Quantrell heard that first shot and intuition told them its full meaning: the enemy was without, two hundred strong, and a fight was unavoidable. Some one was always on Quantrell’s trail and the force which had now surrounded him had followed his track like a sleuth hound, and only waited for the deepest shades of night to fall upon and devour the little guerrilla band. The Federals understood the cunning and bravery of the twenty-two men in the building, and before making their presence known they had taken every precaution to prevent escape, by completely surrounding the house and guarding every door and window. The night was beautiful, with the sky as clear as the ether of heaven, from which a full, bright moon poured a flood of silver, pencilling the white earth and throwing dark, fantastic figures behind the woods and fences.
A brave lieutenant was the spokesman of the Federals, and with clanking spurs and saber he approached the door, gave it a few smart kicks with his heavy cavalry boots, and then demanded an immediate surrender. It was a moment when there was no need for orders; every guerrilla understood his duty, for sleep is easily dissipated in moments of extreme danger. Quantrell strode cautiously to the door, and, locating the lieutenant by his voice, fired a large navy pistol. The bullet cleft through the panel and struck the officer in the chest. With a gurgling moan the lieutenant fell, and with a few convulsive struggles died. The battle then began, with the Federals pouring volley after volley into the building, which, though it was weather-boarded on the outside and had a filling of brick between the studding, yet it afforded but slight protection against the minie balls that were poured into it. The guerrillas were divided, with Quantrell, Cole Younger and six others in the second story, while the first floor was occupied by Geo. Shepherd, Quantrell’s lieutenant, and the remainder of the force.
After the fight had progressed for a short time four of the guerrillas became so frightened that they wanted to surrender, and it also became important to extend some special protection to Major Tate and his family. Accordingly, Quantrell hailed the Federals and told them some of his men desired to surrender, and that the family of the house wanted protection. Permission for them to retire was therefore given and the four guerrillas, followed by Maj. Tate, much against his will, and his family, left the house, taking up quarters in the barn which stood some distance off. The fight was then renewed. Cole Younger, with the same reckless bravery which distinguished him at the Flannery fight, took desperate chances and did terrible execution. The snow became crimson in many places and the cries of the wounded fretted the air. Time and again came the summons to surrender, but the only reply was a scornful laugh. It was thus the combat continued for three long, terrible hours. No one had yet thought of the torch, though there was the same fatal ell with no window to guard it, as at Flannery’s. It came, though, at last, and when the flames threw their lurid glare in through the crevices of the barricaded windows the guerrillas realized how near grim fate was approaching. Time was asked for, but the Federals refused to check their fire until terms of unconditional surrender were agreed to. Quantrell, in last extremities, always proposing some desperate scheme, ordered all his men to stop firing and reload. When every pistol and gun was heavily charged, the guerrillas massed themselves, threw open the two doors and leaped upon their foes, pouring an unceasing volley into the Federals, cutting a bloody gap through which they passed to safety.
Singular to relate, though none the less true, the guerrillas, besides losing their horses, had only one man killed, and none wounded. The Federal loss was a score killed and nearly twice that number wounded. A junction was formed the next day with Todd, and in a skirmish with thirteen Federals which occurred in the afternoon following the Tate house fight, horses sufficient were captured to remount Quantrell and his men.
THE SLAUGHTER AT BLUE CUT.
From the time of the fight at Major Tate’s house the guerrillas changed their methods of retaliation, and a fighting campaign was inaugurated which ceased only with the close of the rebellion. The militia of Missouri co-operated with the Federal forces of Kansas, and every highway in the border counties became a battle ground. Quantrell’s force was augmented by recruits from neighboring counties, accessions being made at every camping place. Their arms consisted of such weapons as the new recruits brought with them or captured from routed foes. Horses were readily obtained by forage upon stables and pastures, while ammunition reached them through the secret avenues of sympathizing friends.
After his escape from Capt. Peabody’s cavalry, Cole Younger went to the house of Jerry Blythe, a relative, located on the Independence and Harrisonville road, and staid there two days before he could learn the whereabouts of Quantrell, whom he was anxious to rejoin. The Federals stationed at Independence learned of Cole’s appearance at Blythe’s, and a force of seventy-five mounted troops at once started out to effect his capture. News of the Federals’ intention reached Cole and Quantrell, and a plan was immediately arranged to intercept and give them battle, while a courier was dispatched to acquaint Mr. Blythe with the purpose of both Federals and guerrillas.
By direction of Cole Younger Quantrell’s force, now numbering fifty men, was stationed at a place called the Blue Cut, on the Harrisonville road, fifteen miles from Independence, through which the Federals would have to pass on their march, or make a circuit of five miles by a bad road, to reach Mr. Blythe’s house. The cut is about twenty-five feet in depth and of a width that will admit of the passage of not more than two wagons, while both sides of the summit are lined with a heavy forest in which it was an easy matter for Quantrell to secrete his horses and men.
For some reason, doubtless to prevent the knowledge of their appearance in the neighborhood, the Federals chose the circuitous route and reached the Blythe mansion unperceived by the guerrillas. They found no one at home except Mrs. Blythe and a young son not more than thirteen years of age, who was in the yard when the Federals rode up. They captured the young lad and tried to force him to disclose the hiding place of Cole Younger, but he positively refused to tell anything; and when they gave him a chance he ran into the house, seized a pistol, and while the troops were sacking the place he fired on them, killing one and severely wounding another. This unexpected attack from so youthful a source so enraged the Federals that, as the boy ran out at the back door, he was riddled with bullets, no less than sixteen striking him, extinguishing his young life immediately. After the commission of this deed and being satisfied that Cole Younger was not in any of the outbuildings, the Federals started back on the main highway, when they were soon seen by the guerrillas and preparations were at once made by the latter for the attack. Both ends of the cut, as well as the eminence on each side, were well protected by the guerrillas, whose fire was reserved until the unsuspecting Federals had ridden well into the gap. With a wild yell from Quantrell the work of destruction was begun, and the murderous streams of flame made the cut a hideous valley of death. From every side the deadly pellets poured upon the demoralized Federals, not one of whom thought of anything but escape, while horses and riders mingled their blood together until that terrible gap became red with the slaughter. Few lived through that destructive fire, for when the whirlwind of death swept over the band, nearly sixty corses lay still under the smoke which choked the cut. Cole Younger’s avenging hand had been laid heavily upon ten men, and he was satisfied with the work of that day.
THE MOST REMARKABLE FIGHT DURING THE WAR.
In the latter part of February, 1862, three weeks after the slaughter at Blue Cut, one of the most remarkable battles of the war was fought, between Quantrell’s force of fifty men on one side and five hundred Federals under Cols. Buel and Jennison on the other, resulting in the defeat and rout of the latter with a loss almost twice as great as the entire guerrilla force.
Independence had become a supply post and distributing center for the Federals in the west, and was garrisoned by a force of one thousand militia. Spies were continually on the track of the guerrillas, but owing to the disbandments and reorganizations which occurred every few days to avoid pursuit, it was impossible for the Federals to determine the force of the enemy in any engagement, which gave to Quantrell a most important advantage.
In the latter part of February, the weather being very cold, Quantrell went into camp on Indian Creek, in Jackson county, about ten miles from Independence, for the purpose of recruiting his force and watching the movements of the enemy. His position was soon reported and Col. Buel, at the head of two hundred men, at once drew out from Independence for the purpose of engaging the guerrillas, whose numbers were found to be small. By some means, never fully explained, Quantrell suffered himself to be surrounded, though his defensive precautions were excellent; a large number of trees having been felled and breastworks made which no cavalry could penetrate.
On the morning of the 26th, Quantrell was surprised by the shrill whistle of a shell as it came cutting through the trees and exploded overhead. His pickets were driven in and then he found that every avenue of escape had been closed, besides which the Federals had two pieces of artillery with which to shell the woods. The situation was critical in the extreme and Quantrell had grave apprehensions which he communicated to his comrades. At the suggestion of Haller, a brave fellow who saw the anxiety manifested by Quantrch, Cole Younger was called into council because of his thorough knowledge of the country and the cunning and daring which had already distinguished him. His advice, undoubtedly, saved the command and turned what at one time seemed certain defeat and inglorious surrender, into the most brilliant victory of guerrilla warfare.
Cole communicated to Quantrell the fact that inside the Federal lines was a large farm-house with adjacent yards filled with cattle. His advice, therefore, was to hold the enemy in check until night, make every indication of a stubborn resistance, and then stampede the stock, which would confuse the Federals, draw their fire and make escape possible, His suggestions were at once received with the greatest favor and, for the time being, he was practically placed in command of the force. All day the fighting was continued, but the loss of the Federals was quite severe, while the guerrillas suffered slightly, owing to the excellence of their fortification, and the difficulty of throwing shells through the heavy growth of timber. When night approached, the guerrillas made active use of the axe in felling more trees, ostensibly to strengthen their position, but in reality to deceive the Federals, and the ruse was successful. The night was one of unusual darkness, as there was no moon and the heaviest clouds banked the sky. Out into the gloom crept Cole Younger, William Haller, Dave Poole and George Todd, four men whose hearts never harbored fear, and in a few minutes after they left the quiet camp a terrible confusion was heard in the barn-yard; chickens were cackling, dogs barking, and in the noise a score of affrighted cattle were heard running and bellowing, their speed being accelerated by several pistol shots, which, brought the Federal camp to arms in the belief that the guerrillas were upon them. The cattle were mistaken for foes and a lively rattle of musketry told how successful had been the strategy of Cole Younger and his aids.
The confusion resulting from the stampede and the darkness permitted the guerrillas to withdraw from their beleaguered position and when morning broke they were in the rear of the Federals ready to make a bold stroke, which had already been agreed upon. Quantrell knew the position of the battery and that the line could hardly withstand a determined assault at any point.
When the dawn came Quantrell followed Cole Younger in a desperate charge upon the surprised artillerymen, and the battery was captured with the least show of resistance. A large force of cavalry, under the command of Jennison, was seen rapidly approaching at this instant, and as they wheeled to the right for the purpose of forming a junction with Buel’s infantry the latter officer mistook Jennison’s force for Col. Upton Hayes, Confederates, and the greatest disorder was at once developed. Quantrell took advantage of the mistake, and in a moment he dashed among the demoralized infantry and turned loose the captured battery upon the now thoroughly routed foe. Seeing Col. Buel’s infantry cut to pieces Col. Jennison concluded that the Confederates, or guerrillas, were massed in large numbers and that it was discretion on his part to withdraw. But he was not permitted to escape the fire of the guerrillas, who turned from the pursuit of Col. Buel’s panic-stricken command and directed their guns upon Jennison. His cavalry never having been under fire before, were soon thrown into disorder, the horses being stampeded by the shells and whistling bullets, and but for the protection of a friendly corn-field the havoc would have been terrible. The victory, however, was complete, resulting in a loss of one hundred Federals, a large number of horses, twelve hundred rounds of ammunition—an ammunition train being at the time escorted by Col. Jennison—and a battery of two ten-pound guns. The loss of the guerrillas was only eight men. The cannon were spiked and then thrown into the Big Blue.
In this battle the remarkable fortunes of war are manifested. The Federals were as brave and commanded by as good officers as were the guerrillas, but the strategy which first permitted the latter to escape, and the determined charge, followed by a mistake on the part of the Federals, placed them almost at the mercy of the guerrillas. It is little incidents which often win battles, not always bravery or larger forces.
HISTORY OF THE BLACK FLAG.
The circumstances which created the black banner and made it the in hoc signo of the guerrillas, have never been related in history, important and interesting as they are. The facts which are herewith recorded were obtained from Geo. Shepherd, than whom no other man now living is so competent to give the truthful particulars.
Living in Lafayette county, Missouri, in the summer of 1862, was a family by the name of Fickle, consisting of the old gentleman, whose first name Shepherd has quite forgotten, his wife, and a daughter, twenty years of age, named Annie. The family were all of intense Confederate predilections, but while the old gentleman contented himself with giving expression to his opinions only among his immediate friends, his daughter was virulent and overt in her sentiments and sympathies, which caused her father no little solicitude, for in those days men were killed for opinion’s sake.
In May, one of Shepherd’s guerrilla comrades was found in the house of Mr. Fickle, by a company of Federals, and was arrested. The guerrilla was a particular friend—perhaps a lover—of Miss Annie’s, and when the arrest was made she became so abusive to the Federals that she was also taken into custody and carried into Lexington, where she was imprisoned for a week, and then permitted to return home.
The guerrillas were very anxious to secure the release of their comrade, whose fate, if not averted by some special means, they could readily anticipate. To accomplish this Shepherd called on Miss Annie, through whose influence with a Federal lieutenant, who was her cousin, he hoped to procure an exchange of prisoners that would liberate his friend. Annie forthwith placed herself in communication with her lieutenant cousin and finally appointed a meeting between Shepherd and the Federal officer. At this meeting the lieutenant agreed to effect the release of the captive guerrilla for the sum of $400, which being consented to, another appointment was made for the succeeding night, at which the money was-to be paid and the captive would be at a certain place to which they would ride and meet him.
Shepherd had not entertained the slightest suspicion of treachery because of the supreme confidence he reposed in Miss Annie. True to the engagement, he met the lieutenant at the trysting place shortly after nightfall, and together they rode to the spot indicated. After passing several miles they came to an angle where the road they were traveling united with another. At this point on one side was a stone fence and on the other a large pile of brush. As the two approached the brush-pile about twenty Federals arose from the ambush and fired on Shepherd, killing his horse which, in the fall, pinioned one of his feet for a moment, but as horse and rider fell, Shepherd drew his pistol and killed the lieutenant, whose treachery was then apparent. By extraordinary efforts Shepherd released himself and darted for the stone fence, which he leaped amid a shower of bullets, and, being fleet of foot, ran rapidly along and behind the fence until he had outstripped his pursuers, who groped aimlessly in the dark, not being able to discover which direction Shepherd had taken.
Three weeks after this narrow escape, and two weeks after the execution of the captured guerrilla, who was shot, Major Blunt, commanding the post of Independence, (Shepherd is not certain, but believes Blunt was in command at the time, and that he was also the author of the order), issued an order which he caused to be printed in the Independence paper, to the effect that from the given date, guerrillas captured would not be treated as ordinary prisoners of war, and that all parties found bearing arms against the United States of America, in the district specified in the proclamation, would be regarded as guerrillas and punished as such. The inference gained from reading the order was that thereafter all guerrillas or armed forces opposing the United States would, in case of capture, be executed. The purpose of the order was, no doubt, to prevent by intimidation, the recruiting of Confederate companies in Jackson county, and hardly contemplated the harsh and cruel methods which inference had attached to it, for it was never put into execution.
A few days after the issuance of this order, while Quantrell and his company, of about sixty men, were camped near the little church in Sny-Bar township, the pickets reported the presence of Annie Fickle, who desired an audience with the command. She was, of course, admitted and her mission was to make a presentation. Under her left arm she carried a bundle wrapped in a newspaper, and in her left hand there was a strong, smoothly polished hickory pole. Annie, though born where nature was rugged in the wilderness of its untrained productiveness, was nevertheless of a romantic temperament. Plain of speech, she was, notwithstanding, gifted with lofty sentiments, and it was these she had gathered that day and arranged in a bouquet of fervid enthusiasm. Giving a courteous bow to Quantrell, she asked him to have his men assemble for a moment around her. Her request being complied with, she unrolled the bundle and taking the paper which bound it, she read Maj. Blunt’s order of “death to all guerrillas,” then in a brief harangue she addressed the men in language, nearly as can be remembered, as follows;
“It is a hard fate which awaits every brave Southern soul found in Missouri fighting for a cause as sacred to every true man as is the love of God. To falter now, is to betray the holier instincts of love and liberty, and in the peril which this infamous and bloody order imposes upon the noblest sons of Missouri, I can see rising this oriflamme, (shaking out the folds of the black banner), which, though black as death, is purified by the righteous cause it represents. Life to life and blood for blood; let the border ring with the cry of freedom, Quantrell and the sunny South, one and indivisible forever, and to you, into whose hands I entrust this banner, let me nerve you with my prayers and entreaties never to lower it so long as there is a hand to clutch the staff, or until the principles of the Confederacy are decided by the sword and bayonet, when there is no longer hope for appeal.
“And ever let your battle-cry be,
Quantrell and Southern Supremacy!”
While making this little speech Annie unrolled the black banner, which had been carefully bound up in the paper containing Blunt’s order, and spread it upon the grass. When her remarks were concluded, she produced a hammer and nails and fastened the flag to the hickory pole in a dozen places.
The banner was made, by Annie’s own hands, of quilted alpaca, four thicknesses, and its dimensions were three by five feet. In the center was deftly worked, in sombre colored letters, the name “Quantrell,” running endwise through the middle of the flag. The pole was eight feet in length.
The donation was received in a demonstrative manner of approval, the men lifting their hats and giving three cheers for Annie Fickle, while Quantrell thanked her heartily and promised to carry and protect the banner so long as he had life to do it Jim Little was chosen color-bearer, and he bore it conspicuously, though not in every combat, until after the destruction of Lawrence. The flag was carried with Quantrell to Kentucky in 1864, torn as it was by a hundred bullets, and disappeared with the guerrilla band in their last fight. Its remnants may still be preserved by some Kentucky relic lover, but if so, its owner is not known to Shepherd.
THE PILLAGE OF OSCEOLA.
Following the fight at Indian Creek came the pillage of Osceola, in St. Clair county, by Jim Lane. This act, though unaccompanied by horrors like those which distinguished the Lawrence raid, was equally as indefensible. Osceola was a flourishing town of about one thousand inhabitants whose peaceful homes were not disturbed or threatened until the jayhawkers came down upon it like a wolf in the night and applied the torch to every building of any consequence in the place. By the light of the destroying flames stores were plundered and many outrages perpetrated upon the defenseless citizens. It was the result of savage and dishonest natures relieved of all legal restraint and encouraged to exercise their vandalism and thievish bents by unscrupulous and equally criminal officials. Osceola became the war cry of the guerrillas for years afterward, and to this day when the stigma of Lawrence is pointed out to the Younger Brothers they never fail to refer to Osceola as the prime cause for that dreadful holocaust.
THE SECOND FIGHT AT THE BLUE CUT.
Cole Younger was appointed second lieutenant in Quantrell’s command in April, 1862, and thereafter the squad fighting by guerrillas was begun. In June information reached Quantrell that a company of fifty men, under Capt. Long, was on the Harrisonville and Independence road, foraging on the route to the latter place. Cole Younger was given a detail of twenty-five men and ordered to ambush the detachment of Federals at the Blue Cut, an order which he executed with what success will appear. From spies sent in advance Cole learned that among the Federals was a former guerrilla by the name of Shoat, who had enlisted under Quantrell a few months previously and then deserted, carrying with him valuable information for the enemy. Cole had harbored the suspicion that Shoat, was a spy and he therefore became specially anxious to kill him. Capt. Long, however, was an old acquaintance of Cole’s, and in earlier days the two had been boyhood friends, little recking how destiny had linked them to antagonistic causes in the desperation of guerrilla warfare.
Having posted his men advantageously so as to sweep the cut with a galling fire when the Federals should enter, Cole spoke to his comrades and begged of them, under no circumstances, to kill Capt. Long, whom he thoroughly described, but at all hazzards not to allow Shoat to escape.
It was about three o’clock in the afternoon of June 12th when the Federals rode into the cut unsuspicious of any lurking danger, when suddenly a volley from twenty-six pistols dissipated the good humor of that unfortunate command and a fight to the death was begun. Capt. Long was a man of extraordinary nerve, and by his heroic words and bravery rallied his surprised force and notwithstanding his disadvantage he stood for a time like a stone wall, giving shot for shot. The guerrillas, however, fought from the summit of the cut and it was therefore impossible for the Federals to reach them.
Fifteen minutes of desperate fighting, with the havoc all on one side, caused a stampede and the demoralized Union forces dashed over their dead and wounded comrades in determined effort to escape, despite the entreaties of their commander. When the rout became general Cole Younger ordered a pursuit in which he shot Capt. Long’s horse from under him, and then, espying Shoat, he gave chase and at the second fire from his heavy pistol shot the deserter in the back, breaking the spinal cord, from which death resulted in a few moments. Cole then rode back to Capt. Long, who had been made a prisoner, and greeted him in the same cordial manner as if the two had met after a long separation under happiest influences and unsevered friendship. A few moments were spent in conversation, after which a list of the dead and wounded was made, and then the prisoners, numbering ten, including Capt. Long, were released on parole. In this sharp fight the Federals lost twenty-seven killed and wounded, while the guerrillas suffered the loss of only three men killed and five wounded, one fatally.
THE BATTLE OF WALNUT CREEK.
In July, 1862, Quantrell’s command had been increased to seventy-five men, an addition of twelve men having been made by a union with Jack Rider who had been ravaging the border counties on his own account. With this force Quantrell decided to make a retreat from the Sny hills and enter Harrisonville, which at this time contained a large amount of provisions guarded by about one hundred raw Federals. His designs were frustrated, however, by his advance guards reporting large bodies of scouting militia on every side. The roads were, in fact, so well protected by the Union forces that Quantrell was forced to take to the woods, and even this course did not exempt him from pursuit, for his trail was followed persistently and being unable to throw the enemy off his track he was compelled to retrace his steps and make for the Sny again.
After several days of hard marching, Quantrell pitched his camp on Walnut Creek, in Johnson county, which he fortified by felling heavy trees and making his retreat inaccessible to cavalry except at passes left for the convenience of his own troops. Cole Younger was sent out on the 13th of July to reconnoitre and forage, taking with him twelve men well mounted. Upon reaching the house of Joe. Larkin, a detachment of fifteen men was espied riding up the road in advance of a large force of Federals. Cole and his men had dismounted and their horses were feeding back of the house. Hastily calling his squad together, he ordered them to hide behind some quilts, which had been washed that day and left on the fence to dry. Thus secreted, they awaited the approach of the Federal advance, until they were in the road immediately opposite, when suddenly the guerrillas arose as if from the ground and poured such a deadly fire upon the fifteen astonished Federals that but one escaped. The main body was so surprised at this sudden and fatal attack upon the advance-guard, that it halted and formed in line of battle in anticipation of a charge, as the Federals had no idea of the guerrilla force. At this juncture an additional force of two hundred Butler county militia appeared, and thus reinforced, the Federals advanced while Cole mounted his men and retreated to the camp, where preparations were made to receive the enemy. There was no delay, for Quantrell had scarcely time to close the passage through which Cole Younger and his squad had entered, before the Federal cavalry, now four hundred strong, made an impetuous charge, but they recoiled before the murderous fire of the well-protected guerrillas. A second charge followed, led by as brave men as ever rode in battle, but again from the barricades streamed flames of death until the brook which babbled along the base of the hills was gorged with the dead. The baffled and distressed cavalry fell back in broken ranks and formed on a hill two hundred yards distant, evidently to hold a council. For two hours not a sound disturbed the stillness of the forest. The two armies were content to quietly contemplate the intentions and strength of each other. In the afternoon, about four o’clock, the Federals were again reinforced by another body of two hundred men, and the attack was renewed. A force of one hundred deployed down the creek and another detachment of two hundred was sent to attack the guerrillas in the rear, but the bluffs prevented the latter force from reaching a point where they could be effective. A combined attack was agreed on, but when the charge from the front was made again, the main body was unsupported by the three hundred troops sent to attack the flank and rear, and a terrible repulse was the consequence.
The several disastrous charges made by the Federals convinced them that the cavalry was useless against such a strongly fortified foe, and a new plan of attack was resolved upon. All the troops were dismounted and their horses secured in the ravine five hundred yards north of the battle-ground. The combined force then moved in infantry columns, and with solid phalanx ascended the hill, reserving their fire until the last moment. The sight now was a grand one. The guerrillas, with double-barreled shotguns loaded deep with slugs and buck-shot, lay low behind their barricades and waited the approach of the enemy. Not a gun was fired, nor a word uttered until the Federals had almost reached the sheltering works and were preparing to scale them, when suddenly there was a rattling peal which shook the sleeping forest and a cry of anguish arose which converted that spot into a place too horrible for nature. The line wavered under that mortal fire, but the rents were repaired in the attacking column, and the onset continued. It was almost a steady stream of deadly fire that poured over and through the crevices of the fallen trees and the havoc was too terrible for the bravest to stand. Despite their exposed position the Federals fought with a valor never surpassed; though their ranks were melting away like a thin depth of snow before a warm sun, yet the survivors were men of steel and fought like heroes battling for life. Notwithstanding the protecting butts of large trees, the guerrillas suffered severely. Quantrell was shot through the leg, but still he fought and cheered his men while the blood ran away and wasted his strength; Cole Younger had his clothes riddled with bullets and his hat shot off; Geo. Shepherd was hit in the arm, and more than a dozen of Quantrell’s men were lying here and there, in pools of their own blood, never to fight again. To render escape more difficult, nearly half of Quantrell’s horses were killed and the country was almost as thickly beset by large bands of scouting Federals as with trees, brush and lofty bluffs.
The charging forces were four times beaten back from the impregnable barricade, tottering under the flying pellets of death, but rallying again and again until the dusky shadows of evening obscured foe from foe. The roar of battle ceased gradually and when the smoke uplifted nothing relieved the painful quiet which succeeded save the shrill piping of summer insects and the distant monotone of a soliloquizing owl.
Late in the night Cole Younger, with two others, was sent out to locate the enemy for the purpose of ascertaining the safest avenue of escape. Quantrell’s wound was now giving him much pain, his fighting force was seriously crippled and his ammunition almost exhausted. To remain and risk the battle which was certain to be renewed on the morrow, he realized would be sure defeat followed by the most disastrous consequences.
Directly after Younger and his two comrades left the camp to reconnoitre a heavy rain began to fall which, rattling among the trees, permitted them to proceed with less fear of detection and indisposed the Federal pickets to keep vigilant guard, for they were already fairly exhausted from fighting, and naturally sought shelter and rest.
It was nearly twelve o’clock, midnight, when the daring spy returned and made his report to Quantrell. Cole had crawled inside the Federal lines, located every squad and picket, and then found a clear passage, but it was up a dreadfully steep hillside which only the surest footed animal could climb. But even this information was encouraging, and hurriedly yet silently the camp was raised, the wounded mounted with aids, and the tattered ranks of the guerrillas were put in motion. It occupied more than an hour’s time to get the horses and men up the hillside, and in the confusion the Federal camp was aroused to Quantrell’s intention. The darkness, however, was friendly to the guerrillas and protected them in their escape, many of them being compelled to ride double, owing to the scarcity of horses. The Sny hills were reached, the wounded were left at the houses of friends, and hastily separating the trail was broken.
AMBUSCADES AND HARD FIGHTING.
Quantrell and Shepherd received the best surgical attention, and as their wounds were slight they soon recovered sufficiently to resume active operations. Before calling the command together, however, Cole Younger and George Shepherd were sent into Kansas City with instructions to procure all the ammunition possible, while Quantrell went to St. Joseph to collect arms. The guerrillas being life-long residents of the neighborhood in which they fought, had many valuable friends who gave important aid in all their undertakings. It was not difficult to procure munitions of war in Kansas City, and in two days after entering the place a goodly store was secured, which was loaded into a wagon and the two guerrillas started back to the appointed rendezvous on the Sny. Five miles from the city they put up at a friend’s house for the night, but before bed-time they were surrounded by a body of Federal cavalry who, by some means, learned of Younger and Shepherd’s visit to Kansas City and had been placed on their trail by spies. Back of the house was a field of wheat almost ready for the harvest, and in this the wagon was secreted, while the horses were larriated between two out-buildings, ready for emergencies which were anticipated. The Federals demanded an immediate surrender, accompanying the order with a threat to fire the house in case of a refusal. The position, critical in the extreme though it was, induced no thought of capitulation. Looking out of the windows the guerrillas discovered where the guard was weakest and drawing their revolvers they rushed out of the back door, killing four men as they ran, and gained their horses in a shower of leaden rain. Both were struck, Cole being hit with three balls, which produced only flesh wounds, however, while Shepherd was shot in the shoulder and thigh, which prevented him from keeping his horse, after riding a few hundred yards. Younger succored him with true comrade sympathy and under the cover of night the two made good their escape, and again Shepherd was given over to the care of friends until his wounds should heal.
