Eau Claire County, Wisconsin - Chapter 10: Eau Claire County Training School, 1914 (part 4 of 4)

Guards were detailed for camp and picket duty and the men of the regiment laid down utterly exhausted and slept with guns loaded and ready by their sides. I could not sleep, so I volunteered as guard and was placed in charge of both camp and picket. Towards night the commander of our brigade was detailed to serve as a member of a court martial and our colonel being the next in rank took command of the brigade. At six o'clock that night he was detailed as general officer of the day for the army and reported at headquarters, where plans for the night were completed and he was charged to execute them. By virtue of his position as general ofScer of the day, he was, while holding that position, in command of the army. He rode along the entire line, followed by a long retinue of aides and orderlies, giving instructions to the several commanders, and back to headquarters. The camp guards were posted, the pickets were also posted and each picket post sent out a vidette. While I was trying to rest and after dark (no lights were permitted along the line) the colonel came down from headquarters on foot wearing the big red sash over his right shoulder, across his breast and ends crossing on his left side, the insignia of his rank as general officer of the day. He asked me who was in charge of the camp. I told him I was. He said that he was completely exhausted and could not keep up any longer; that although it was contrary to the rules for him to sleep while on duty, he could not keep awake any longer. I told him to get a blanket and wrap up so that his sash could not be seen and cover his head and I Avould call him if there was occasion for it ; that I could not sleep and would watch for him. He outlined his duties to me, gave me his password for the night, pulled off his boots and put them under his head, rolled up in his blanket and covered up so completely that he could not be distinguished from any one else lying there. I jammed the bayonet of my gun down in the ground at his head with the butt of the gun straight up in the air as a guide and he went to sleep and I became the substitute general officer of the day for the Army of the Potomac, a position which a man in the ranks never held before or since. As soon as everything Avas quiet, I went down to a little stream which ran across our line and pulled off my shoes and stockings and sat on the bank with my feet in the creek for nearly two hours. This gave me great relief. I did this two or three times that night and my feet were much better.

Near midnight a noise as of moving bodies could be heard away out beyond the picket line. I went out to see about it, out to the picket posts, out beyond to the videttes and from post to post. When away out at the front I could hear noises like men tramping, wheels like those of wagons and artillery moving. I carefully noted the direction it was taking. I noticed that the noise was gradually increasing in volume, not from the cause of the noise coming nearer, but rather from those making the noise increasing in number. I went back to the regiment, woke up the general with some difficulty and told him that the rebels were evacuating Petersburg; that they were running away. He listened a minute and said, "Let them go," and drew his blanket about him and went to sleep again. So Lee and his army got away.

The evacuation of Petersburg by Lee and his army, the Army of Virginia, was begun at midnight on the second day of April. He retreated up the Appomattox river. We learned soon afterwards that Richmond was also evacuated and the whole rebel government in full retreat. From the beginning of hostilities the effort of the Army of the Potomac had been to captixre Kichmond and drive the rebel government out. Every battle in the East fought by it had that purpose for its ultimate object. The army under McClellan got almost there. Then Burnside got as far as Fredericksburg. Then Hooker was stopped and forced back at Chancellorsville. Then Grant was stopped at the Wilderness. "Baldy" Smith and Butler were turned back at Peters- burg and on the James river. In none of the many bloody battles theretofore fought, had the way been clear to Richmond, although many of them were among the most bloody in history. Bull Run, Antietara, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, the battles in the Wilderness, all failed to bring about the fall of Richmond. They were each and all more bloody than the second battle of Petersburg, but by none of them was the enemy forced into a hasty retreat and the victorious army able to make a prompt and vigorous pursuit. In no other battle in Virginia had the defeat of the enemy been so crushing or disastrous to it that it could not control its plan of retreat and take the necessary steps to recover from or repair the disaster. While the enemy became less and less powerful at each successive battle, whether won or lost by it, yet if any one battle was the decisive battle of the war, that battle was the second battle of Petersburg, for it produced results that no other battle accomplished, the fall of Richmond.

Early in the morning of April 3, the army started in pursuit of Lee. The Fifth Wisconsin, having been in front or first regiment to move the day before in the attack on Petersburg, was the last to move today. Rations were issued to us, including about a gill of whiskey to each man. I held my tin cup Avith the rest for my share and all the boys knew I did not drink, some thought that I would divide it up among them and so I got rather a larger ration. My cup was nearly full, but instead of passing it around, I turned it down my heels in each shoe and thereby incurred the bitter condemnation of some of the members of the company, who had a great liking for it. I think this was the only ration of whiskey issued to us while we were in the service. It was well toward noon when we began the march, in the rear. About the middle of the afternoon we halted at a small creek to fill our canteens and rest. While we were scattered along the creek resting and lying stretched out on the ground along side the road we were traveling, Generals Grant and Meade suddenly rode out of the brush along the road back of us and halted at the creek close by me in the road for a few minutes and talked with our colonel. Grant looked happy. The colonel congratulated him for the great victory won yesterday. The general replied, waving his hand along the regiment : "To you and those men belongs the credit."

In the morning of April 5 we were ordered to report to Sheridan at the front at once and half rations were issued to us, that is, half the usual amount for five days, and about eight o'clock we were on our way. We stopped to rest five minutes every hour, half an hour at noon, halt' an hour at midnight, half an hour at six o'clock in the morning of the sixth of April, half an hour at noon of that day, and about four o'clock in the afternoon we were at the front. Company K was on the extreme right of the regiment and I Avas on the extreme right of the company and the regiment' was on the extreme right of the line. Many of the men had fallen out. They could not stand the forced march. The whole number in Company K then in line was twenty-six men and it mustered more men than any other of the companies in the line of the regiment. Some of the companies had no more than half our number in line.

Sheridan, with his cavalry, had brought General Ewell's coi-ps too, and it had been handling him pretty rough, and he asked General Grant to send him the Sixth Corps in a hurry. He was being whipped. It was the Sixth Corps that whipped the Johnnies at Cedar Creek, in the Shenandoah Valley. It M-as the Sixth Corps that Sheridan called for repeatedly to aid him in his fights down on the left of Petersburg, but Grant would not let him have it then. It was the Sixth Corps that assaulted this same Ewell's corps at Mary's Heights at Fredericksbiirg, and the Fifth Wisconsin led in that memorable assault and captured the heights and drove this same army that we now faced. From the time Sheridan with his troops, marched around the right of Lee's army and joined Grant's, or the Ai-my of the Potomac, on the extreme left, he kept calling for the Sixth Corps. He called for it before the battle of Duuwiddie Court House, fought March 31, was offered the Fifth, Warren's, but refused it. He again called for the Sixth Corps before the aiTairs at Five Forks and Bradley Run. He told Grant that he could break in the enemy's right if he had the Sixth Corps. General Grant told him that the Sixth Corps could not be taken from its position in the line, and offered him the Second. Sheridan's campaign with liis cavalry and the Sixth Corps in the Shenandoah Valley had been very successful, so when his cavalry was put back near Sailor's creek, he had again asked for the Sixth Corps, and by Grant's direction, it was sent him. In the note Grant wrote to Sheridan, he said, "The Sixth Corps will go in with a vim any place you may dictate." So Sheridan sent word to Wright, commanding the corps, to hurry, and he says that "The gallant corps came up as fast as legs could carry them." Wheaton's men (the Fifth Wisconsin was one of Wheaton's regiments) came up all hot and out of breath and promptly formed for the attack, and while the whole line promptly attacked the enemy and fought the battle of Sailor's

Creek, which Sheridan called one of the severest conflicts of the war. He said that it has never been accorded the prominence it is entitled to, because it was overshadowed by the stirring events of the surrender of Lee three days later. It resulted in the capture of six generals and from nine to ten thousand prisoners.

To our left, rapidly forming into line, was the first division of the Sixth Corps. Before us was the valley of Sailor's Creek; the creek was at the bottom of the valley, about 80 rods from us; we were formed on the edge of the hill, which dropped down to a freshly plowed field, which extended to the creek. On the other side of the creek, the land was more broken and rough with scattering timber to a Virginia rail fence, about 40 rods from the creek in the edge of the timber. Behind the rail fence, with guns pointing our way, was Ewell's coi"ps, extending in a long line, both to right and left out of sight. It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon when Company K took its place on the right of the line, the oificers all being present. Captain Hall, Lieutenant Colonel Bull, who commanded the regiment, were in a group at my right ; General Wheaton, our division commander, was in the group at my right, discussing the plan of battle. General Wheaton stated that the plan was, as soon as a line of battle was finally formed and the men had got their breaths, to advance the whole line and attack the enemy where it lay. After General "Wheaton outlined his plan of attack, our colonel urged him to send in tlie Fifth Wisconsin against that line of rebels alone. Wheaton refused, then with tears running down his face, the colonel urged the officers to let us go ; he said we could whip them alone. The colonel was so earnest and begged so hard, that General Wheaton finally, with reluctance, consented, saying to one of his aides that they would send troops in to support them. We were required to charge a line of neai'ly 20,000 desperate men, armed to kill, across on open plain with no kind of a shelter and no protection. We loaded our guns and fixed bayonets and all the commissioned officers and surgeons took their regular places in a charge in the rear and we moved forward in double line. We were ordered to cross the creek, deploy in a single line, each man about two feet from his fellow, and to lie down until the order was given to charge and then to jump to our feet and rush the enemy's line with all our might. The band played and filled the valley with its music ; there was no levity among us. We marched with our gun.'- on our shoulders toward the creek and the enemy beyond, down across the plowed field until we were near the creek, when a few of the enemy began to slioot at us and wounded two or three men.

The line wavered and became crooked and some of the men lagged. Lieutenant Colonel Bull, in command, halted the regiment, came forward to the head of the line where I stood and right dressed the line. As the men formed in line again in the face of a fusillade from the enemy, and a great cheer from the Union line, we again moved forward and plunged into the yellow, rapidly flowing water of Sailor's creek, which was about hip deep and a rod wide, and hurried across. Volleys from the whole rebel line were fired into us while we were in the creek. It got several men. "We dropped down and hugged the earth as close as we could while they fired into us and kept up all the time the terrible "rebel yell." We laid just long enough to get our breath when Colonel Bull passed the word along the line that when the order was giveu to charge, not to try to keep in line, but every man rush to the top of his speed and fight for his life and yell. At the command, we jumped up and rushed for the enemy, yelling and firing, every man frenziedly fighting for his life. We ran against a terrific storm of bullets, men dropping as they ran. Those of us not hit rushed on over the crest of the slope and down at the rebels. There could be but one of two results from our charge ; we must drive them or they must destroy us. As we charged down that slope at them, mad and firing and yelling, the whole rebel line in our front and near flanks gave way and started to retreat ; they got but a rod or two from the barricade when some of them, their officers and men, yelled at each other: "What are you scared at, there is only a few of them," and they jumped back to the fence and began again to shoot at us more desperately than ever. In our charge. Company K had swerved ofi* to the right ; the general movement of the regiment was in that direction; the exposure was not quite so bad, but absolutely deadly everywhere, and just at this time I found myself among the men of Company B. Every man about me was down and I got down. Up to this time I had not fired a shot. I tried to shoot, snapped my guu several times, but it hung fire. There were none left for the Johnnies to shoot at, for most of those down were shot down, and those of us lying down for safety, took care to keep very still. The ground all around me was littered with guns, and as I could not fire my own gun, I dropped it and selected a good looking one from those on the ground, and loaded it. Firing upon us by the enemy slackened. The Second Rhode Island were sent in by General Wheaton on the double ciuick to our relief, and that diverted attention from us. A group of Johnny officers were talking ofl: to the left behind their line, and I tried my new found gun on them. I aimed at a man in the group and fired ; there was a scream of pain, consoling words by others in the group not to mind, the shot was not serious. A yell from the line, an angry order from an officer, it seemed to me, of a hundred guns. I have never been able to understand why I was not hit by that fire. I felt the bullets cut the air about me ; I got back a piece behind a tree, for I realized the danger I was in. In looking about me, I saw Captain Hall, the only officer there on the field. Our colonel came up, his feelings all cut up over the drubbing we got and crying like a child. The entire regiment with their colors was captured by the Johnnies and recaptured later by the Thirty-seventh Massachusetts. Over 80 per cent of the rank and file of the Fifth "Wisconsin that moved down across the plowed field and attacked the enemy were killed or wounded. The charge from the creek until we were - done up - lasted about five minutes. Nineteen of the twenty-six in line in Company K were hit, and it suffered less than any other company in the regiment. Every man in Company B, among whom I found myself, was shot. I alone escaped. Our colors were saved, but every man in the color guard was hit. The artillery had shelled the enemy when they repulsed us and captured the Second Rhode Island and then the whole line charged the Johnnies and drove them. Stragglers from the regiment kept coming in after the battle. Some of us remained and gathered up our dead and buried them and helped pick up the wounded. The company moved off witli the balance of the regiment after the retreating enemy and I stayed working with those left behind until after midnight, when we laid down and slept till morning. This battle was not ended and the enemy in full retreat until night set in. Sheridan, in reference to the defense put up by the enemy to our attack, says that they fought like tigers. The result of the battle of Sailor's Creek was the capture of Rebel Generals Ewell, Kershaw, Barton, Corse, Dubose and Curtis Lee, and about 9,000 to 10,000 prisoners. Another result quite as important was cutting off Lee's retreat south to join Johnston, and driving his army across the Appomattox river toward Appomattox Court House.

The Sixth Corps had proved to the enemy by the bloody battle of Sailor's Creek that it was able and in position to prevent the rebel army from retreating south without exhausting its entire strength to defeat us. The victory and the capture of most of Ewell 's corps by us had released the cavalry from its embarrassed position, and Sheridan again at once placed it across the enemy's line of retreat. The cavalry moved out in the right after the battle was over and part of the Sixth Corps was sent out also to support it. This force was fairly across the enemy's line of retreat and it had either to turn north, cross the Appomattox river and get that stream between its army and us or fight another pitched battle at once. Fighting was on all the time, day and night, but the opposing forces were moving on both sides, the enemy in retreat and our troops pursuing. The sound of the rattling fire of musketry kept up during the night after the battle and kept moving away toward the west. The Fifth Wisconsin moved out in the rear of the Sixth Corps very early in the morning. Stragglers, members of the regiment, both officers and men, who were unable to keep pace with its two days' and nights' continuous forced march to take part in the battle, kept coming up until, when the pursuit of the enemy began after the battle was over, most of them Avere with the regiment. In helping to bury the dead and care for the wounded I became separated from the company and was not with it when it marched with the regiment, and about a dozen of us started out to join the army next morning, without rations. The sound of musketry had turned from west to north and was moving in a northerly direction, miles away from us. We started toward the sound of firing, across the country the shortest way, not following the line of march of the army, keeping together as pi'otection against guerillas and bush- Avhackers and looking for something to eat. We sighted a mansion surrounded by great fields and negro quarters and other buildings. We cautiously reeounoitered and found that the place was not guarded. We went there and asked for enough food to last us until we overtook the ai'my, which we offered to pay for. They told us there was not a mouthful of food on the place. The proprietor, an old man, with his wife, a daughter and a young woman and two or three younger children, were sitting together on the porch and lying on the floor of the porch in their midst was a young man, the son, bleeding from several wounds he received the night or day before, suffering. His father and mother shoAved the anguish they felt and the children sat quietly, tears running down their faces. They expected if they did not provide us with food that we would burn their buildings. We put out pickets to guard against surprise and began a search. In a store-room filled, as they said, with empty barrels, we found a barrel of flour at the bottom of the pile. One man found a pail of lard in the basement. Two or three chased down a few chickens that had been overlooked by former raiders and we had the old negro mammy cook some frying flapjacks and chicken. Ai'til- lery and musketry sound off to the northwest was very heavy. We each took a portion of flour and piece of friend chicken and moved fast toward the sound of the guns and overtook the regiment at Farmville, on the Appomattox.

Tlie Johnnies had crossed the river at Farmville and fired the bridge and made a stand there, but our men had charged and drove them out aiid put out the fii-e. The Fifth Wisconsin took no part in that skirmish. Up to the beginning of the war, Farmville was said to be the largest primary tobacco market in the world. There were huge warehouses there filled with all kinds of manufactured tobacco when the troops hit the town. The troops halted there for a while and when we struck the town, just after our regiment had come up, the streets were literally carpeted with pig tails, twist, plug and other styles of tobacco. The lovers of the weed were in the seventh heaven. Davis, of Company K, emptied all his clothes from his knapsack and filled every inch of it with tobacco, making a load that staggered him, but he was one of the happiest men in the army for a while. Some of the buildings were set on fire and destroyed. The continued pounding by the cavalry of the outskirts of Lee's army Avas crowding it en masse, and we were put in motion again. By rapid marches were pushed across his front, or on the south side, of his troops, in line of battle on April 9, 1865, in the edge of timber with a wide open field between us and his army. We stacked arms and with broken ranks were right by our guns, ready in an instant for any movement of the enemy, which we knew was just beyond the timber across the field in front. We all realized that the critical time was at hand ; that the only chance for the enemy to escape was to break our line ; that his escape meant aid for Johnston and the defeat of Sherman. Cheers came ringing down the line and with them word that Lee had surrendered. This report was premature, but for the time it set the array wild. The report was soon contradicted, but later in the day another report came that he had surrendered, and this proved to be true.

After the surrender of General Lee we marched back to Burksville Junction and went into camp, from whence we expected to be transferred to Washington to take part in the grand review, plans for which were begun. We had hardly gone into camp when the report came that President Lincoln, his cabinet and General Grant had been assassinated. The report had a peculiar effect on the troops. The Sixth Corps continued under the separate comm.and of General Sheridan from the time it was sent to him by Grant to help him out of the hole that Ewell had him in at Sailor's Creek, and he was now doing his best to be allowed to go to Washington so that he could ride at the head of his army in tlie grand review, but General Grant ordered otherwise. The terms that Johnston had gotten from Sherman for the surrender of his army was not satisfactory, and Sheridan, with the Sixth Corps and his cavalry, was ordered south. The march to Danville was a forced march, the only incident of special note on the march were the extraordinary beauty of Southern Virginia, across which we passed. We had scarcely reached Danville when Johnston surrendered on the same terms given Lee, and the effect of our march was completed. After Johnston's surrender, the Fifth Wisconsin did guard duty on the Southern railroad, guarding Confederate government property, which was being gathered up and shipped, generally to Washington. After the property had been shipped we were marched to Washington by the way of Richmond and Fredericksburg. We marched to Arlington Heights and camped there. We were impatient to be mustered out and go home, but we had to remain there until the accounts of the officers and men with the government were squared. Finally an officer came over from Washington and condemned our tents, guns and accoutrements. After remaining in camp at Arlington for some time, we were finally ordered home.

The last company that went out from Eau Claire county for the Civil War was recruited in February, 1865, with Hobart M. Stocking as captain and Mark Sherman as first lieutenant, and was mustered into service as Company G, of the Forty-eighth Wisconsin Infantry. I give below the names of those in this company who enlisted from Eau Claire county or vicinity. I also furnish you a letter received several years ago from Captain Stocking, in response to a request from me that he tell the story of his company. It is a very interesting and valuable addition to the Civil War history of Eau Claire county. Although Captain Stocking was unable to furnish a war-time picture of himself, I was fortunate enough to find a small picture of him in uniform, which I am furnishing you with this article.

Enlisted Men

Although this company went out near the close of the war, they suffered severe hardships and in common with the recruits who Avent earlier, they made good and M'ere a credit to the county.

In the preface to his letter, Captain Stocking states that he was unable to find a picture of himself in uniform, but an Eau Claire friend of the captain has unearthed a small picture and I am sending it to you, also a picture of Lieutenant Mark Sherman. I am sorry that I have mislaid the later picture of Captain Stocking, which is mentioned in his letter.

By Capt. H. M. Stocking

Dear Sir: I neglected answering yours of the seventh ult., thinking I might be able to find some record which would refresh my memory and enable me to answer your inquiry in detail, but

I have looked from "cellar to garret" and not a vestige of record can I find, nor can I find a photograph in uniform, so I send you today, under separate cover, a photograph taken a few months ago. Portj^-one years is a long time to remember, especially when one has been busy with other pursuits and interests, but I shall do the best I can.

The regiment to which I belonged did not put down the Rebellion nor force the surrender of Lee and Johnston. We were late in the field and had barely left the state when Lee surrendered. I presume he got news of our muster and was afraid we might be marching his way. It was my privilege to command Company G, Forty-eighth Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, which I recruited at Eau Claire. We were mustered in early in the year of 1865, either in February or March. The company was the heaviest in weight of any which ever left the state ; rank and file, the average weight was 153 pounds. This included my drummer boy, who weighed 90 pounds, and myself, who weighed 93 pounds. This distinction caused us extra labor during our first march through Missouri in April, where we literally carried the wagon train across the western part of the state. My company being the largest and coming from the pineries, the colonel got the impression that we could endure, and whenever the wagon-train got stuck, which was often, he would ask me if I could take it out, and I think it is no exaggeration to say that I wheeled my company out of line each day a half dozen times or more and literally carried the heavy wagons and contents to good footing. There was never a swollen stream to ford, and they were many, for it was a wet spring, that Company G did not take the advance and "set the example." The colonel would say, "Captain, if yovi can take your men across there, half the regiment will follow the example ; the water is deep and so cold that I dislike to order men to ford, but as your men are from the pinery and can stand hardship, if you will just take the lead you will oblige, etc." We always took the lead. So much for the reputation of being big and strong. In this case it was a handicap.

I think I was one of the youngest, if not the youngest, officer who ever left the state. I was mustered as captain two months before I was eighteen years of age. I forced my age a year in order to muster. The regiment was organized in Milwaukee at Camp Washburn, and early in March we were sent to Benton Barracks, Mo., to drill. We only remained there one week and were then ordered west to garrison posts along the Missouri and Kansas border, where the bushwhackers were still troublesome.

Our march through Missouri was uneventful, save for the mud and water and the trifling annoyances of bushwhackers, who were hovering about our flanks day and night. Being infantry, we could hardly go after the mounted bushwhackers, and they were very bold at times, burning houses and pillaging and murdering frequently within sight of the command. Before we could reach the spot to oft'er assistance they were mounted and off.

Our first stop was at Paola, Kan., where Companies G and F were detached. Our stay was limited, however, as the night of the second day after being detached I received orders to proceed to Mound City, thirty-five miles south, with all possible dispatch and take command of the post there. We made this march in thirteen hours. At one point, "Big Sugar Bottoms," for seven continuous miles the water was from waist to shoulder deep. It was a hard march and when I got there and reported to General Blunt by wire, I received in reply a complimentary dispatch, in which the general expressed surprise at the fact of our reaching our destination so soon, saying he expected it would take two days. I was young and inexperienced and supposed the order which read "all possible dispatch" meant all it said, and I fulfilled the order to the letter. We marched the distance in thirteen hours. I don't believe we could have cut off two minutes from the time, as it was heavy footing, and while in many places the water was too deep to wade with ease, it was hardly deep enough to swim with knapsack weighing from sixty to eighty pounds on one's back. We were ordered to Mound City to relieve a company of Kansas Jayhawkers, as the reckless Fifteen Kansas was called. Captain Swain, a former captain of this company, who had a few weeks before been sentenced by court martial to a term in military prison at Jeffersonville, Mo., had made his escape and was in hiding. A troop of regular army cavalry was scouring the country trying to find him. The captain in command of this troop suspected he was in hiding in the vicinity of Mound City and that this company was shielding him, hence we were ordered there to relieve the command.

I arrived at Mound City and went at once to headquarters and found there in command a much bewhiskered officer, faultlessly attired in regulation viniform, who received me with much formality and addressed me as "orderly." On reading the order he did not seem well pleased, and asked, "Where is this Captain Stocking?" I replied, "Here." With surprise and a slight sneer he looked me over and said, "You Captain Stocking?" I replied in the affirmative and forgave him the sneer, as I certainly was a rough looking kid, a beardless boy in fatigue uniform, without a strap or bar to indicate my rank, and my clothes literally bespattered with Missouri clay. One could hardly blame the man for not wishing to turn over the command to such a youthful-looking tramp. On recovering from his surprise he asked, "When do you wish to take command?" I replied, "Immediately." He said, "Surely not tonight." I said, "You have read my orders, which say 'immediately.' You can consider yourself relieved now." He did not take this kindly. I had a man shot on picket duty that night, and when we were rolled out at midnight the situation had me guessing for a time. The night was dark as a pocket, with a strong wind and heavy rain, and the location entirely new, as I was too tired to reconnoiter much before retiring that evening. I really was at a loss to know whether it was an attack from Taylor's band of bushwhackers, which were operating in that vicinity, or a shot from some straggling horse thief who was trying to open the corral where the post was located. I had the satisfaction of ordering a detachment of twenty-five men from the Jayhawkers to roll out and scout in the dark and rain until daylight. I also reinforced the picket with mounted men fron^ tliat command, which took the last man from their quarters and there was some swearing done on their part. After the fullest investigation I came to the conclusion that my man was shot by one of these self-same Jayhawkers in a spirit of revenge or an effort to stampede the "Doughboys." A stampede did not occur and I never was able to fasten the crime on them. The one satisfaction I had was in keeping their company out all night in the storm. They were a lawless bunch, and if I could ever have fastened this attempted murder on them they would have certainly received a sample of discipline of which they were in sore need, and with which they were not entirely acquainted.

We garrisoned this post about four months. Our duty here was light and rather uninteresting. Bushwhacker scares among the natives were frequent, as they were very nervous, having been frequently raided. We gave them the fullest protection, however, and in return we were treated better by the citizens than we would have probably been treated in our own state.

In August, General Taylor, seeing the "jig was up," and that they could not divide the spoils with the troops then garrisoning the border, capitulated to our colonel, who was in command at Fort Scott, twenty-two miles distant. He surrendered a band of

153 mounted guerrilas, who were taken to prison at Fort Leavenworth. This wound up the guerrilla warfare, and there was no further need of our services there.

We were ordered to Lawrence, Kan., to rendezvous as a regiment. We expected to be mustered out, but instead were sent west to relieve the Eighth United States "Galvanized" Rebels, who were garrisoning posts on the western frontier. This service was scattered from Forst Ellsworth on the east to Fort Union on the southwest. Fort Ellsworth was on the Smoky Hill Fork, and Fort Union was at a point about 100 miles southwest of Pike's Peak.

Companies E and G were stationed at Fort Zarah. Our colonel with four companies was at Fort Larned, twenty-four miles west. The remaining four companies in command of Major Butt were, I think, stationed at Fort Union. A little excitement was threatened shortly after Captain Hutchinson of Company E took command at Fort Zarah. The troops, who were rebels taken from Rock Island and other prisoners, officered by Union officers, and placed in the Indian service on the frontier, were really as bitter rebels as ever. We had 800 of them assembled at Fort Zarah awaiting marching orders to Fort Leavenworth, where they expected to be discharged. The order was slow in coming and the command miitinied and refused to do duty. Captain Hutchinson ordered that the arms be taken from the men and they confined to quarters on prisoners' rations. The men refused to give up their arms. The situation was threatening and it required courage to meet it, as they were 800 to our 135 ; they occupied quarters and we occupied tents, but Captain Hiitchinson had the nerve requisite, and he made good, quelled the mutiny and the troops did duty until their orders came. Our service at Fort Zarah was strenuous if not exciting. It consisted of the ordinary garrison duty and escort duty, which in some eases was very distasteful. Colonel Dent was at the Big Bend of the Arkansas a few miles south, with a supply camp, issuing annuities to the Indians. Bodies of chiefs and head men of the tribes would come to the fort, and the commander would give them a liberal bodyguard in command of a trusty officer to protect them from the desire of revenge on the part of the soldiers, on their way to receive the presents of the government at the hands of Colonel Dent. The situation was further aggravated by the knowledge that a half-breed son of this same Colonel Dent was in command of a body of Sioux warriors, murdering and pillaging on the Platte route, only thirty-five miles north. Stage coaches were held up, passengers murdered, the stock stolen and coaches burned by this blood-thirsty band. Woe be to the straggling soldier who fell into their hands. Some of the most fiendish tortures imaginable were meted out to these self-same soldiers. We were lucky in escaping them, but they got some of the Seventeenth Illinois Cavalry and tortured them to death, sometimes in sight of Fort Fletcher, where a detachment of this regiment was stationed.

Being mounted, the tendency of the men was to straggle and hunt buffalo. I had a party of twenty men, who had been kept liusy getting wood for winter for several weeks, and who were enjoying the hunt which had been promised them, when we came nearly running into the jaws of this blood-thirsty band. Some hunters discovered our camp fire and warned us of the close proximity of the ludians, and we stood not on the order of going, but "got" for the fort as soou as we could get our stock, which had stampeded, and run to the fort that evening. It seems an interposition of Providence that saved us, for that very day the men had been hunting in parties of ten within a few miles of Fort Fletcher, and that same day the Indians captured two stage coaches, shot the passengers one by one as they were trying to escape, burning the coaches and running off with the stock. They caught two soldiers of the Seventeenth Illinois Cavalry within sight of the fort and tortured them to death in a manner too revolting to put on paper. Little wonder the soldiers were ready to retaliate on sight and that it was necessary to strongly guard the parties who came for annuities. The father issuing annuities and the son murdering and torturing in the same vicinity was an aggravating situation.

Kit Carson, the famous scout and delightful man, later went into camp five miles north of us on the Walnut. As guests he had for a time the secretary of the legation of Belgium and the assistant secretary of the legation of Prussia, whom we often entertained at mess. Both were trying to enjoy tlie hunting of buffaloes, but they had some sad experiences, the Belgian shooting his horse through the neck by accident and getting a bruising fall when the horse went dowu. They soon got tired of the sport and returned to civilization at the first opportunity. We enjoyed their visits very much, and when they left us they gave each officer an urgent invitation to call on them should we ever visit their country. It was my privilege to command an escort for Kit Carson on his final and successful effort to complete a treaty with the five war tribes, which was accomplished after days of, to me, aggravating parleying at a point called Plum Buttes. Each day's council would be broken up by the defiant chief of the Arapahoes, who had a white woman prisoner for his squaw and he refused to give her up, which was one of the conditions of completing the treaty. About 4 p. m. each day he would mount his horse and ride off, and all the chiefs would follow him, breaking up the council. The soldiers were very impatient, and the last day I suggested to Carson that we murder the whole baud. He replied, "No, no, for God's sake put that out of your head. They will come to time in the end," and they did. Of this patient, persistent, quiet man I can only say he was one of the most delightful companions and straightforward, determined men I ever met. He believed in the Indians, or pretended to, and they swore by him. He deserved their confidence. This treaty was signed and peace reigned for a time. How long I do not remember, but for the few days we remained on the frontier it was safe to travel without fear of losing one's scalp.

Early in December we were relieved by regular troops and started on our homeward march. Here let me say, that I believe that for exposure and fatigue, no troops ever made such a march in America. The night before we left Fort Zarah a foot of snow fell. Our first two days' march was uneventful, the weather, although cold, was not severe. The morning of the third day a blizzard struck us, which continued almost uninterruptedly for four days. The first day the mules would not face it and we had to go in camp at the end of a five-mile march. Having only drawn enough rations to make the march, which, if my memory serves me right, was twenty-four days, we could not tarry or we would be out of supplies in that vast wilderness of snow and upon a bleak plain. The second day we started with a shovel corps of fiftj' men, who were relieved by a fresh detail of men each hour, and we literally shoveled our roads for eighty miles. The wagonmaster would take his riding mule by the tail and start him out to find the trail. When he floiindered the men would shovel him out, and they were shoveling him out most of the time. The snow was from three to thirty feet deep. Every ravine or depression in the plains was filled. Some of these ravines were twenty to thirty feet and often of greater depth. At night we would cut out a hole in the snow for our tents and pitch them. Companies E and G had only dog tents, properly called shelter tents, and these would often be covered up in the morning if the wind v/as high, making it snug and comfortable during the night, but "Oh, what a difference in the morning," when the cook's detail would roll out and make a fire of wet elm, over which the cook would brew hot coffee. The men would take a cup of coffee in one hand and hardtack in the other and make a large ring about the fire and take a dog trot and keep it up until coffee and hardtack were consumed, then off for the day's tramp. Only one day did we lose the trail entirely. That night we camped about three miles south of a rocky prominence on a high sugar-loaf hill, which, if I remember right, was called Chimney Rock. When I went to the wagon train to get a shovel to sliovel the snow away so I could pitch my tent I met the wagonmaster and said to him: "I thought we passed north of that rock when we marched out." He replied: "You did, the road is at the north, but I tell you, captain, no landmark ever looked so good to me as that very rock when I sighted it this p. m. I was lost all day." I replied that I did not know it. lie said, "Of course you didn't know it. It was all I could do to fight the panic within me. Should I have let the situation be known there woidd have been 500 men in the damndest panic you ever heard of, and hell would have been popping. I am just truly thankful to be here tonight."

Strange as it appears to me up to this day we lost no man on this march. Our drum-major, a man well along in years, and John Wilkinson, a very large man, standing 6 feet 3 inches high and weighing 325 pounds, both gave out, and we put them in the wagon and covered them with blankets and left them at Fort Riley when we reached that point. I supposed that both lost their feet, but I met Wilkinson in West Superior twenty years later with both feet attached. He said the drum-major lost his feet, but he saved his, although they were not so good as he would wish. Our colonel froze his face so badly that both eyes were temporarily blind and we left him at Junction City, the border town.

He arrived in time to join the regiment before we left Fort Leavenworth and came back home with us. He was a young, sturdy man, who was duck-legged and could not wade through the snow, so he stuck to the saddle, and this came near costing him his life. It is said that a man can stand more than a mule. This march proved this assertion to be true. When we left Fort Zarah we had thirty-six six-mule teams, as fine animals as I ever saw and in prime condition. When we reached Fort Leavenworth all but four teams were condemned as no longer fit for service and sold under the hammer at auction. The only thing that saved our command was the fact that we had so much transportation. This wagon train was returning empty from a trip to the West and was assigned to our men. We had been on the plains for months and nearly every man had one or more buffalo skins and wolf pelts, and here were transportation facilities enough so he could bring them home, as %vell as all his clothing and heavy blankets. Under ordinary conditions a man would not have been allowed transportation for half the luggage each soldier had, and these same skins saved the lives of the men. Halters and ropes were stretched along the Avagons attached to the box, top bows, or any place where a hitch could be secured. A guard was stationed at each wagon to keep men from riding, as they would have frozen to death if they had ridden, but the halters and rope made a hold for the men and they could catch on and drag themselves through the snow, which was from knee to crotch deep, thus making the march and keeping warm at the same time, otherwise not half the command would have survived the first eighty miles of blizzard and deep snow.

When we arrived at Fort Leavenworth after twenty-four days.' march we were a little battered, but still in the ring. We were mustered out as soon as we could get our muster-out rolls made and turned over our camp and garrison equippings. We were discharged at Madison, where we received a grand reception on our arrival on the ninth day of January, 1866, if my memory serves me right.

We did not put down the rebellion. We were never in a pitched battle. If we had been I would tell you of it, even if we ran, for " 'tis better to have fought and ran, than never to have fought at all." Lee may have surrendered sooner having known that the doughty Forty-eighth Wisconsin was under arms. I am not informed as to that. We did not smell much powder, except as we shot down the unsuspecting buffalo and wolves, but we had a lot of hard marching and we were "Johnny on the spot" when orders came for any kind of service. Of course there is no doubt but that General Taylor hustled to make the best terms he could when the Forty-eighth Wisconsin relieved the Kansas Jayhawkers. This may seem a joke, but there is room for truth. The Jayhawkers Avere sometimes accused of whacking up with Taylor and his men in the divvy of stolen hoi'ses and other plunder. The Forty-eighth was there to protect lives and property, and I have never heard them accused of appropriating either people's stock or conniving at the acts of the guerrillas, or sharing the spoils with them. So General Taylor may have thought his occupation gone once we entered his domains.

As soon as the Indians found that this ' ' unwhipped ' ' regiment was assigned to gari-ison duty on the frontier there was "nothing to it. ' ' The five war tribes simply capitulated as soon as they could be induced to give up their white women prisoners and he sure they would be well fed and cared for during that cold winter. Colonel Dent was liberal with the annuities. Both of these conditions may have had something to do with it, but I think that the fact that "that "Wisconsin regiment" was out there praying for a chance to shoot something put the final touch to the conditions and induced them to lay down their arms and take no chances until the grass was high enough for feed, and the roving deer and antelope returned to their usual haunts.

What I have given you is history as I recall it, but not much of it is war history, and I doubt if any of it will be of service to you. To be honest, the nearest we ever came to a fight was to bury the dead at the Battle of Mine Creek. Our service with bushwhackers and Indians was inglorious and unsatisfactory. We, however, endured hardships and experienced enough fatigue to make us rejoice at the opportunity of returning to - if not more peaceful haunts - at least more congenial.

H. M. Stocking

of Eau Claire, Wis., Private in Company K. 16th Regiment of Wisconsin Volunteers, Who Enlisted When Only Seventeen Years Old and Whose War Experience Was Practically All in Rebel Prisons.

After the battle of Cold Harbor, June :J, 18(i4, we remained inactive until the 12th. That night after we had turaed in, we received orders to pack up, fall in and move out quietly and with as little noise as possible. We of the rank and file didn't understand the meaning of this, to us, unnecessary caution, but learned later that Wade Hampton's Legion (cavalry) was suspected of being in our vicinity and would hang on our flanks ready to attack any of our troops they felt able to get away with, hence the caution which some of us later found to our sorrow was well timed. We moved out, as I remember, about 9 P. M. and after marching about two hours, the night being very dark, we were overtaken by a courier with the information that we, with a portion of the command had somewhere after starting taken the wrong road in the dark and must about face and get back in quick time, but with the main command now far in the front. We made a supreme effort to catch the command, but .just before reaching it we got whispered orders to stop for a breathing spell and a few minutes rest. This was our undoing, for in a moment we were stretched along the side of the road in the woods out of the mud and were sound asleep, as indeed, many had been for some time while marching in the ranks, and when a little later the order to fall in again was passed, still in whispers, some of us for obvious reasons, failed to respond, and it being still very dark were not missed by oiir comrades or by the orderly whose business it was to get us into line, until too late. It was broad day light when we awoke, and when we realized the situation our feelings can better be imagined than described.

But we pulled ourselves together and made another effort to catch the command ; this however, soon proved futile for we hadn't gone a mile when we were halted by a command to surrender by a squad of cavalry who stepped into the road ahead of us, and as they outnumbered us we at once saw the point of their argument and like good soldiers, obeyed orders, but before they could get to and disarm us we had the satisfaction of spoiling the efficiency as Avell as the beauty of our new Springfield rifles by bringing their stocks suddenly in contact with near-by trees. This precaution in the interest of our cause, was however, strongly resented by our captors and had it not been for some of the older and cooler heads among them it would certainly have gone hard with us, for at that period of the war the most important capture a reb could make next to a live Yankee, was a new Spi-ingfield musket.

"We were, as near as I can remember, about seven miles from Richmond to which city we started as soon as they stripped us of everything of value to them and arriving there were immediately put in Libby prison on the third floor, a hungry and tired lot of boys. "We remained here about two weeks, being treated fairly well and little dreaming of the horrors in store for us when the gates of Andersonville closed behind us later.

About the first of July we were loaded in cattle ears recently used for transportation of cattle, and after a trip of four days' jolting and bumping over the worst roads imaginable, and filled with hardships and suft'ering, Ave reached Andersonville Prison, that horrible hell-hole of the Confederacy in the interior of Georgia, where in a stockade of thirty acres were confined as many as 33,000 Union prisoners at one time, packed in so closely that the space equally divided would allow only four square feet to a man. Here during the last year of the war were confined about 50,000 of whom over 13,000 died from starvation, exposure, J^A^A ^ yw^Avv \/^^^. (aJ-Uva. !L,,^^Jj^- <P^^^

Around the inside of the stockade, twenty feet from its base, ran the dead line and should a person step over the line accidentally or purposely he was shot by the sentinels on the stockade. Many driven half insane by the horrors of their daily existence deliberately walked to death by crossing this dead line.

A swamp was the center of the prison and through it flowed a small creek, which furnished all the water that was to be had for the daily use of the prisoners and in addition it was the sewer for thousands of men crowded together, who had to drink of its pestilential waters.

Most of us were without shelter from the winter storms or summer heat and the rags which we wore did not cover our nakedness. We yearned for the refuse food in the swill pails of our northern homes.

No attempt was made by Wirz, the inhuman rebel monster in charge of the prison, to lighten our sufferings and make us comfortable, but his every eft'ort was to prolong and intensify our sufferings. Refuse bacon unfit for any human being, and unbolted eornmeal was our diet. It could not and was not meant to support life. Men were dying like flies each day, feet and ankles rotting off, limbs swollen to thrice their normal size. Unable to protect themselves, their food was stolen from them by their crazed comrades in their desperate fight for life. Although green corn and vegetables could easily have been furuislied them, they were withheld so that scurvy could do its work.

No clothing was given to us to wear or soap for washing, nor medical assistance in sickness. Chills and fever were rife and diarrhoea ever prevalent, while the stench was unspeakable and always with us.

In October, just before Sherman started on his march to the sea, and doubtless in anticipation of his attempt to liberate us, we were hurriedly put in cattle cars and run to Savannah, Ga., and put into a temporary stockade, pending the completion of the stockade at Millen, Ga., and after a short stay in Savannah were taken to the new one at Millen. This was a vast improvement over Andersonville in many ways, not the least of which was our escape from the monster Wirz, which, however, was only temporary, for those of us who survived until fall were destined to have more experience with that fiend in human shape. Our stay in Millen prison was about two months, and in November, on the day of the general elections in the north, and at the insti- gation of the rebel authorities themselves, we held a mock election, the result of which was very disappointing to the rebels as we elected Lincoln over McClellan two to one, which showed plainly the war would be prosecuted to the end without compromise and that the loyal people of the country were in the majority. Some time in the first part of December M'hen Sherman was nearing Millen, we were again loaded on box cars and sent back to Savannah and from there without changing cars on to Blackshear, a station on the coast railroad near Thomasville. We were placed in the woods with a heavy guard around us and kept here a few days and then on to Thomasville, Ga., where we stayed two weeks when, Sherman liaving gone to Savannah, we started on a four days' march across the country to Albany, Ga., sixty miles, taking the cars again at this point and on Christmas Day 1864, were back in Andersonville again. At this time our numbers had been greatly reduced by death, exchange, and transfer to other prisons, so we did not number more than three or four hundred. We suffered greatly from, the cold and many died from cold and exposure who otherwise might have pulled through. But all things have an end and so were our days in this hell on earth. And when on the 28th of April, 1865, we were ordered to the depot to take cars for our line's at Jacksonville, Fla., our joy knew no bounds. It came so sudden and was such a shock, that to say, some of us acted like lunatics in our great joy over the prospects of deliverance, would be putting it very mildly. But we got off finally and after a ride of two or three days in our old friends - the cattle cars, without much to vary the monotony we reached Baldwin, Fla., twenty miles from Jacksonville ; the track being torn up between two places, we were escorted for a short distance by a rebel guard and then withoiit further ceremony were turned loose and it was then every man for himself and a great strife to be the first to reach God's country, our friends, and the Stars and Stripes, which I had not seen for about eleven months.

We stayed in Jacksonville long enough to gain sti-ength to stand the trip north, which was about two weeks, for we were taken in hand at once by the doctors, who put us on a strict diet to keep us from killing ourselves by overeating. First of all we were led to the St. John's river, and after casting our rags in a common pile and being furnished with soap and towels, were ordered into the water for a general cleaning after which each was given a new uniform, a welcome exchange for the rags we had been wearing so long, and which we proudly donned.

Henry W. Butler

dina, where we transferred to an ocean transport for parole camp at Annapolis, Md. I will not attempt to describe our passage north, further than to say that of the six hundred on board probably seventy-five per cent were very seasick, which in many cases lasted during the trip, and Avhen it is considered that we were all confined below decks, it will not require a very vivid imagination to realize the condition we were in when reaching our destination, and that our joy on reaching port was only second to that when being released from rebeldom.

We stayed a few days in Annapolis, received our commutation of ration money, which in my case amounted to $72.00 at twenty-five cents per day, and were forwarded to the distribution camp for western men at St. Louis and a few days later we Wisconsin men were sent to Madison and home.

Edward Nolan and John Cunningham from my company were captured at the same time. Of the others taken at the same time from the regiment were two from Company I, Bogley and Parsons. They both died in Audersonville. I found Parsons dead at my side one morning.

I did not attempt to escape by tunnelling under the stockade, as many did, for none of the three locations I had was near enough the dead line to warrant it. Many got out, but few succeeded in getting away and when caught were subjected to horrible and inhuman torture by buck and gagging, being strung up by their thumbs and starving. I did escape for a time however, with two others, when lying in the woods at Albany, Ga., waiting for a train to take us back to Audersonville. Although a line of guards was around us we succeeded in eluding them one dark night and slipped through. We made a clean getaway for the time being, but when it became light enough to see we found we had traveled in a circle and were back to the point of starting. We started again and reached the home of a planter. We were nearly famished and decided to attempt to get food from the planter's negro slaves, who as a rule were friendly to the Yankees and would do all they could to help escaping prisoners. We cautiously approached the cabin furthest from the plantation house, but unfortunately someone saw us and reported to the planter who, with revolvers in his belt and a pack of vicious dogs at his heels, came down to interview us. Under ordinary cireiimstances we would have thrown up our hands and given up in despair after taking in the situation, but we had been up against similar situations many times and were by this time seasoned veterans and decided to make the best of it, and to this end our spokesman, a comrade by the name of McKinley from a Pennsylvania regiment who was one of us, in a few well chosen words (he was good at that) told him that we were escaped prisoners, were nearly famished and that we had come out for something to eat. Mr. Mercer, for that was his name, looked us over and, probably under the influence of Mack's eloquence changed his aggressive look, dropped his hand from his revolver and in a friendly voice told us to come up to his house. Arriving there he ordered his cook to get us something to eat, others to make a big fire in the yard and still others to bring out chairs for us to sit on, and then he himself brought a large black bottle with glasses, and, being his guests and knowing the custom of the country and the sensitiveness of the people in such matters, we laid aside for the moment any conscientious scruples we might have had and helped ourselves. This put is in fine condition to do justice to the breakfast which soon followed, and which we ate still in the yard. To say that we enjoyed it but feebly expresses the intense satisfaction of being filled up again after our long fast on half rations. After finishing breakfast Mr. Mercer again sent his servants for meal, sweet potatoes, etc., for us to take with us. Then he made us a little speech in which he said he was not a soldier, being exempt on account of having a certain number of slaves, but it was his duty to take us back to camp ; that lie deplored the war and wushed it was over; that he sympathized with us in our troubles and hoped we would finally reach home safely, etc., and now if we were ready he would take us to the provost marshal in Albany, which he did, and that night we Avere placed in the guard house and next morning turned in with the rest of the prisoners. This happened many years ago, but it seems but yesterday, so vividly was it impressed on my mind. It was the only bright spot in my prison experience and I shall never forget it.

I have always thought Mr. Mercer was a union man at heart and whether or not, he certainly was a man in the truest sense and stands out in violent contrast to all others with whom we came in contact while in the confederacy. I heard of him after we moved to Florida through a widow who came here from Albany. She always spoke very highly of him and that he was one of the solid men of that section.

On our way home from Andersonville the Government gave us stationery for writing home and instructed us to write on the envelope "Paroled Prisoner's Letter." This would allow the letter to go through the mails without postage being paid in ad- vance, but it would be collected at its destination. "When my letter written from St. Louis reached home the postmaster J. W. Farwell, called Myron Briggs' attejition to it and said that it must be from me. Mr. Briggs promptly paid the postage and took the letter to mother.

Previous to this an exchanged prisoner had reported that he knew me in Andersonville, had divided his last morsel with me and saw me die. A funeral sermon was preached in Eau Claire by reason of that report to which all gave credence.

Some Newspaper Notes During The Closing Months Of The War

The Free Press of June 30, 1864, records the return of Compauj' C, Capt. Victor "Wolf, and the survivors of the Eagle company. There were but fifty-six left, and of this number thirty re-enlisted for the remainder of the war.

In the Free Press of September 8, 1864, is found a very complimentary mention of Lieut.-Col. Charles "Whipple. This Charles "Whipple was a brother of Capt. D. C. "Whipple and was an early Chippewa river steamboat man. He received a commission as lieutenant-colonel and served for a time in the navy, later being transferred to the Nineteenth "Wisconsin Infantry.

In the Free Press of September 22, 1864, is recorded the return of Capt. (later Major) John R. "Wheeler, of the Sixteenth Wisconsin, severely wounded in both legs.

In the Free Press of November 10, 1864, complimentary mention is made of Capt. A. M. Sherman, of the Second Cavalry, who had just resigned his commission and returned to Eau Claire.

In the Free Press of February 16 is recorded the promotion of Capt. John R. Wheeler of the Sixteenth Wisconsin to major of the regiment, and a very complimentary mention of the man.

of Lieut, (later Captain) H. M. Stocking with his company for Milwaukee to join the Forty-eighth Wisconsin Infantry. The Free Press of April 20, 1865, appears with heavy black lines, and the announcement of the assassination of President Lincoln.

A Closing Word

In the preparation of this Civil War chapter my only aim has been to give a true and unbiased presentation of the part taken by Eau Claire county in the Civil War. The extracts from Civil War letters, newspapers and records have been given as found, and these records and the pictures furnished will be allowed to speak for themselves. It is for the reader to judge whether or not our county measured up to its full duty during those trying years fromsixty-one to sixty-five.