One day during the week we heard that a company of Missouri home guards, well armed, were at Little York, a small village six or seven miles west from our camps. Now, the home guards were Northern sympathizers, so one afternoon our company and another of the regiment, by permission, marched to Little York on a raid, intending to capture the company and secure their arms. We charged into the town, but the enemy we sought was not there, and we could find but four or five supposed members of the company. Anyway, we chased and captured every man in town who ran from us, including the surgeon of the command, who was mounted on a good horse, being the only man mounted in the company. Several of the boys had a chase after him, capturing his horse, which was awarded to John B. Long, who, however, did not enjoy his ownership very long, for the animal was killed in our first battle. We then searched for arms, but found none.
In one of the storehouses we found a large lot of pig lead, estimated at 15,000 pounds. This we confiscated for the use of the Confederate Army. In order to move it, we pressed into service the only two wagons we could find with teams, but so over-loaded one of them that the wheels broke down when we started off. We then carried the lead on our horses,—except what we thought could be hauled in the remaining wagon,—out some distance and hid it in a thicket of hazelnut bushes. We then, with our prisoners and the one wagon, returned to camp. When the prisoners were marched up to regimental headquarters Lieutenant-Colonel Lane said, “Turn them out of the lines and let them go. I would rather fight them than feed them.”
This raiding party of two companies that made the descent upon Little York was commanded by Captain Taylor, and the raid resulted, substantially, as I have stated. Nevertheless, even the next day wild, exaggerated stories of the affair were told, and believed by many members of our own regiment as well as other portions of the army, and in Victor Rose’s “History of Ross’s Brigade,” the following version of the little exploit may be read: “Captain Frank Taylor, of Company C, made a gallant dash into a detachment guarding a train loaded with supplies for Lyon, routing the detachment, taking a number of prisoners, and capturing the entire train.” And “the historian” was a member of Company A, Third Texas Cavalry! From this language one would infer that Captain Taylor, alone and unaided, had captured a supply train with its escort!
On Friday, August 9, the determination was reached to move on Springfield and attack General Lyon. We received orders to cook rations, have our horses saddled and be ready to march at nine o’clock P. M. At nine o’clock we were ready to mount, but by this time a slight rain was falling, and the night was very dark and threatening. We “stood to horse,” as it were, all night, waiting for orders that never came. The infantry, also under similar orders, slept on their arms. Of course our men, becoming weary with standing and waiting, lay down at the feet of their horses, reins in hand, and slept. Daylight found some of the men up, starting little fires to prepare coffee for breakfast, while the majority were sleeping on the ground, and numbers of our horses, having slipped their reins from the hands of the sleeping soldiers, were grazing in the field in front of the camp.
Captain Taylor had ridden up to regimental headquarters to ask for instructions or orders, when the enemy opened fire upon us with a battery stationed in the timber just back of the field in our front, and the shells came crashing through the small timber above our heads. And as if this were a signal, almost instantly another battery opened fire on General Price’s camp. Who was responsible for the blunder that made it possible for us to be thus surprised in camp, I cannot say. It was said that the pickets were ordered in, in view of our moving, at nine o’clock the night before, and were not sent out again; but this was afterwards denied. If we had any pickets on duty they were certainly very inefficient. But there is no time now to inquire of the whys and wherefores.
Captain Taylor now came galloping back, shouting: “Mount your horses and get into line!” There was a hustling for loose horses, a rapid mounting and very soon the regiment was in line by companies in the open field in front of the camps. It was my duty now to “form the company,” the same as if we were going out to drill; that is, beginning on the right, I rode down the line requiring each man to call out his number, counting, one, two, three, four; one, two, three, four, until the left was reached. This gave every man his place for the day, and every man was required to keep his place. If ordered to march by twos, the horses were wheeled to the right, number 2 forming on the right of number 1; if order to for fours, numbers 3 and 4 moved rapidly up on the right of numbers 1 and 2, and so on. This being done in the face of the aforesaid battery, with no undue haste, was quite a trying ordeal to new troops who had never before been under fire, but the men stood it admirably.
As soon as we were formed we moved out by twos, with orders to cross the Springfield road to the hills beyond, where General Ben McCulloch’s infantry, consisting of the noble Third Louisiana and the Arkansas troops, some three thousand in all, were hotly engaged with General Lyon’s command. General Lyon was personally in front of General Sterling Price’s army of Missouri State Guards, being personally in command of one wing of the Federal Army (three brigades), and Sigel, who was senior colonel, commanded the other wing (one brigade). General McCulloch was in command of the Confederate troops and General Price of the Missourians.
We moved out through Mr. Sharp’s premises as we had come in, but coming to the road we were delayed by the moving trains and the hundreds of unarmed men who were along with General Price’s army, rushing in great haste from the battlefield. The road being so completely filled with the mass of moving trains and men rushing pell-mell southward, it cost us a heroic effort to make our way across. In this movement the rear battalion of the regiment, under Major Chilton, was cut off from us, and while they performed good service during part of the day, we saw no more of them until the battle ended.
By the time we crossed the road the battle had become general, and the fire of both artillery and musketry was constant and terrific. The morning was bright and clear and the weather excessively warm, and as we had been rushed into battle without having time to get breakfast or to fill our canteens, we consequently suffered from both hunger and thirst. After crossing the road we moved up just in the rear of our line of infantry, and for five hours or more were thus held in reserve, slowly moving up in column as the infantry lines surged to the left, while the brave Louisiana and Arkansas troops stood their ground manfully against the heavy fire of musketry and artillery. As our position was farther down the hill than that occupied by the line of infantry, we were in no very great danger, as the enemy’s shot and shell usually passed over us, but, nevertheless, during the whole time the shots were passing very unpleasantly near our heads, with some damage, too, as a number of the men were wounded about the head. One member of Company C was clipped across the back of the neck with a minie ball. After hours of a most stubborn contest our infantry showed some signs of wavering. Colonel Greer at this critical moment led us up rapidly past their extreme left,—had us wheel into line, and then ordered us to charge the enemy’s infantry in our front. With a yell all along the line, a yell largely mixed with the Indian warwhoop, we dashed down that rough, rocky hillside at a full gallop right into the face of that solid line of well-armed and disciplined infantry. It was evidently a great surprise to them, for though they emptied their guns at us, we moved so rapidly that they had no time to reload, and broke their lines and fled in confusion. The battery that had been playing on our infantry all day was now suddenly turned upon us, otherwise we could have ridden their infantry down and killed or captured many of them, but we were halted, and moved out by the left flank from under the fire of their battery. Their guns were now limbered up and moved off, and their whole command was soon in full retreat towards Springfield. During the engagement General Nathaniel Lyon had been killed, and the battle, after about seven hours’ hard fighting, was at an end. The field was ours.
Thus ended our first battle. Would to God it had been our last, and the last of the war! General McCulloch called it “The Battle of Oak Hill,” but the Federals called it “The Battle of Wilson’s Creek.”