The Execution of Barry Gibbons

True Tales of the Tenth Kansas Infantry

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

The Execution of Barney Gibbons

by Howard Mann

Richard C. Day, former sergeant in the 7th U. S. Regular Infantry, was posted as a civilian in the Quartermasters Department in Saint Louis, Missouri. On an early morning in June 1864, Day went down to get breakfast at the Military Boarding House on Broadway, when he noticed a man standing outside. As he passed the man he noticed him turn pale and something about his stance brought back an old memory. Recognition passed across Day’s face as he realized that the man was Barney Gibbons, a former comrade-in-arms. Anger clouded Day’s painful memory and he clapped his hands on the stunned Barney Gibbon’s shoulder, stating that Gibbons was under arrest and his prisoner. Gibbons did not resist.[1]

The story unfolded at Barney Gibbon’s court-martial on July 13, 1864 in Colonel William Meyers office. Barney Gibbons was accused as follows:

Specifications: In this, that he, Barney Gibbons, a private of Company A, Seventh Regiment United States Infantry, duly enlisted in the service of the United States on or about the 27th day of July, A. D. 1861, at or near San Augustine Springs in the Territory of New Mexico, did absent himself from and desert said service and go over to and join with rebel forces in arms against the government of the United States.

C. Lowell

Asst. Adjt. Genl.

Witness: Richard C. Day in Col. Wm Meyers Office


Major General William C. Rosecrans ordered the convening court martial board to consist of Colonel William A. Barstow, 3rd Wisconsin Cavalry, Lieutenant Colonel C. W. Marsh, A.A.G., Missouri State Militia, Lieutenant Colonel T. H. Dodd, 2nd Colorado Cavalry, Lieutenant Colonel D. J. Hynes, 17th Illinois Cavalry, Major P. E. Fisher, 17th Illinois Cavalry, Captain Alexander McLean, 7th Enrolled Missouri Militia, Captain W. S. Johnson, 1st Arkansas Cavalry, and First Lieutenant Clifford Thomas, 1st New York Cavalry as the Judge Advocate of the Court.[2]

Sergeant Day was the principle and only witness. Day and Gibbons were both members of Company A, 7th Regiment U.S. Infantry. Barney Gibbons was born in Hamilton, Madison County, New York in 1836. His father died when he was nine years old and his mother, when he was thirteen. On December 1, 1858 he joined the United States Army at Toledo, Ohio for a period of five years. Gibbons listed his profession as a teamster. He had grey eyes, dark brown hair, and fair complexion and stood five feet, five and one-half inches tall. Barney swore an oath to “bear true faith and allegiance to the United States of America, and that I will serve them honestly and faithfully against all their enemies or opposers whomsoever…”[3]

According to Sergeant Day, Barney joined the 7th Regiment at Camp Floyd, Utah Territory with a batch of recruits from Newport, Kentucky. When the hostilities broke out Company A, 7th Regiment found itself isolated at San Augustine Springs, New Mexico Territory. The commanding officer, Major Lynde, decided to move the command to the safety of Fort Fillmore. Day testified:

We were on the march from San Augustine to Fort Fillmore, Major Lynde had command of a part of our regiment. We had evacuated Fort Fillmore. He marched us across, and we had no water. There were about 300 men laying back on the road for water. I was in the rear guard, and this man fell to the rear. I supposed for the same purpose as the others. I didn’t see anything of him from about 4 o’clock in the morning of the 27th of July. He fell to the rear as we thought for water together with quite a number of the regiment. I got into San Antonio with 12 men of my company with a Lieut. and there formed in line of battle, and were surrendered by Major Lynde. We were then marched from San Antonio to Los Cruces, and were then paroled. We laid in camp there about 3 days. During the 3 days, I had been sent up to Fillmore for a drum and different things of the command that we were told we could have, and while there I met this man, and the day before we marched he rode down into camp on one of the horses that had been turned over by the mounted riflemen. I didn’t see him again until the night before we marched when I saw him riding out on a black horse, with the rebels when it was expected that Capt. Chaplin could come up with 3 companies of our regiment. I haven’t seen him since until I met him up on Broadway.[4]

The hapless Barney Gibbons made a statement to the Court defending his pleas of innocent:

All I have got to say is the charges against me is false. I never belonged to the United States Infantry, but there was a man, my brother, who went by the name of Barney Gibbons, that did and he belonged to that company. I was in Texas at the time, and was in a light battery. My brother pretended to say that he was not treated well and left them and joined us. He resembled me very much and I suppose this man arrested me under that name for this reason. My name is Benjamin Gray. I never assumed the name of Barney Gibbons. My brother did. He joined under that name. He got into trouble and assumed that name to get out of it. I have a cut on my lip and so has he. I was born in Pennsylvania. I came up to Fillmore in Col. John Baylor’s command. I never was in the service of the United States. The company, rebel company, that I belonged to was broken up and I was assigned to a gun boat, the Sachem, but I was dissatisfied and the first opportunity I left them. I never saw this man before that. I know of I might have seen him at the time he stated, but I don’t recollect it. I was in the rebel service at the time this company of the 7th U.S. Infantry surrendered. I was in a battery when the regiment was taken.[5]

Richard Day was challenged about his identification of Gibbons. Day refuted the possibility of a mistaken identity.

He has a cut upon his lip, and a peculiar manner of walking. Capt. Jones of our company was always at him because he never could walk like a soldier, he would throw his head forward and his arms to the rear. He always walked with his hands open and fingers apart even when he had gloves on.[6]

Even when Day was recalled he denied ever hearing of a brother of Gibbons and further explained the mysterious cut.

Q. Did he ever explain how he got that cut on his lip?

A. I think I heard some of the men say he got it from a kick of a horse. We used to call it a hare lip.[7]

Day’s memory seemed to stay sharp for one reason. He put it succinctly.

Q. You have no enmity towards him?

A. None at all except that he deserted us. Was among the few that disgraced us.[8]

The court deliberated and found Barney Gibbons guilty of desertion. The sentence was equally as terse.

And the Court does therefore sentence him, the said Barney Gibbons, a private of Co. A, Seventh United States Infantry, to be shot to death with musketry, at such time and place as the commanding General may designate. Two-thirds of the members of the Court concurring in the above sentence.

July 14, 1864[9]

The date was set for August 13th. A unique aspect of Barney Gibbon’s execution was it was the first military execution of a Union soldier to take place in St. Louis. The military establishment wanted to make a spectacle of it and to impress the Union soldiers with the seriousness of deserting over to the enemy.

Major R. D. Nash, Superintendent of Military Prisons and Colonel Baker, Post Commandant, arranged the details.

The troops, to the number of seven or eight hundred, on arriving at the place of execution (Fort No. 4) formed a hollow square on the west side of the fort, with an open face on the east. A squad of sixty men of the 10th Kansas, commanded by Lieutenant Wood, conducted the prisoner from Myrtle street prison to the place of execution. The prisoner was conveyed in a black covered wagon, belonging to Mr. Smithers, the undertaker, sitting on his coffin by the side of the officiating priest, Rev. Father Santois, of the St. Louis University, who had visited him in the prison and baptized him in the Roman Catholic church on Wednesday last. Gibbins had never received the benefit of a religious education, having been left an orphan at an early age; and it was through the teachings of Father Santois in prison that he was induced to embrace the doctrines of Christianity.

The preparations being completed, the priest and the prisoner got out of the wagon and knelt on the ground, in front of the post which had been placed in the ground on the west side of the fort, and for a few moments engaged in prayer. Rising up, the doomed man stepped forward to the post to which he was to be tied, and to which a seat was attached. The coffin was placed on the ground close by, and the attendants brought forward the rope and white cap. Fifteen feet from the post were six soldiers of the 10th Kansas, and just behind them four more of the same regiment. These were the executioners. The guns of the first six were all loaded with ball and cartridge, except one, so that neither of them could say with certainty that he had caused the prisoner’s death, as it was not known which one carried the gun loaded with blank cartridge.

The prisoner now stood up, facing the executioners. He appeared calm and unmoved, as though determined to meet his doom with manly courage. He was a young man 28 years of age, about five feet nine inches in height, with sandy whiskers, brown hair, and dark blue eye; compactly built, with broad shoulders and full chest and regular features. He was in his shirt sleeves, with his pantaloons turned up at the bottom, and wore coarse heavy boots.

Seeing the attendants handling the rope, he said, “I prefer not to be tied.” He then sat on the seat against the post and waving his hands, said, “Farewell! farewell!”

Major Nash came forward and read the findings and sentence of the court-martial, after which he asked the prisoner if he had anything to say. Gibbins replied in a calm, firm voice: “I have; but I wish to ask if the President of the United States signed that?”

Major Nash replied, “Yes.” and Gibbins proceeded. He said he did not deny that he had deserted; but that he did not desert with the intention of joining the enemy. His company had marched from Arizona to New Mexico, and having traveled all night, he was exhausted and worn out, and fell out of the ranks, and laid down on the ground and went to sleep. While asleep, the rebels under Sibley came upon him and captured him. He was deceived by them and induced to join their ranks. He then gave an account of his escape from the rebel ship, Sachem, at Sabine Pass, and finding his way on board the Federal blockading steamer, Princess Royal. He said, “I think it the most unjust sentence ever passed upon man. I am sentenced to be shot, and I suppose by that escort,” (looking at the executioners.) Seeing some reporters present, he said, “My friends, I do not want that put in the papers; my name has gone far enough. I have no parents, they having died when I was very young, but I have brothers and sisters and I do not want them to know it.” He paused a moment and said, “If there is a man named Richard C. Day present, I would like to see him – Richard C. Day, who was a sergeant in my company.” He waited for Day to appear but Major Nash told him he was not present. Day is the witness upon whose testimony Gibbins was convicted. He said he died in the Catholic faith and thanked Father Santois for his kindness.

The prisoner having concluded, Father Santois shook him by the hand and said, “You are a soldier, and now you must die like a soldier and a Christian.”

Gibbins then took a seat on the chair of death and the white cap was drawn over his head. While this was being done he said, “I would rather not be bound; I think I can stand it without.”

After the cap was drawn down over his head, he said, “I have a word more to say;” but no notice being taken of his request, he waved his hand as if satisfied, and his arms were pinioned to the post. Lieutenant Wood then gave the order – “Ready – aim – fire!”

And simultaneously six rifles were discharged, four balls entering the body of the victim near the region of the stomach, and one striking the bank of earth behind him.

The stout frame of the prisoner quivered slightly, and he cried out in anguish – “Oh! – too low!”

Lieutenant Wood immediately ordered the reserves to fire, and their aim being more accurate, the deserter’s frame relaxed, his head dropped on his shoulder, his bosom heaved convulsively, and in a few moments life was extinct.

His arms were unbound; he was laid on the ground on his back, and Surgeons Dudley and Youngblood, of the army, examined the body and declared that life was extinct. Six or seven balls had entered his body, one entering the aorta, two or three the stomach and bowels, one the right lung, and one or two the breast.

The cap was then removed from his face, the body placed in the coffin with the hands crossed and while the band played a solemn dirge for the dead, the whole column passed slowly by, each soldier casting a sorrowful look upon the lifeless face of the man whose crime had been so fearfully expiated.

The conduct of the soldiers was highly commendable. Not a man offered an insult to the lifeless form in the coffin, but all looked sadly upon him, and each one felt that, whatever may have been the young man’s guilt, he had at least died like a brave man. Never, perhaps, has death been faced with so calm and fearless a mien as by that erring, guilty man, who had no friend but the good priest to speak a word of comfort to him in his last hour upon earth.

After the procession had passed, the body was taken possession of by Mr. Smithers, the lid of the coffin screwed down, and the remains of Barney Gibbins were interred in the cemetery at Jefferson Barracks.

Besides the troops but few spectators witnessed the execution, for the reason that very few persons knew where it was to take place. [10]

The day before his execution, Barney Gibbons provided a little more detail on his errant behavior. He admitted deserting with eighteen other soldiers of the 7th U.S. Infantry as Richard C. Day testified. He also admitted fighting in the battles of Valverde, Apache Canyon, Johnson’s Ranch and Albuquerque. While in Texas his artillery unit was transferred to the Confederate ship, Sachem. He did not like the duty and escaped on the captain’s gig to the blockading Union ship, Princess Royal. He disembarked at New Orleans and drove a Quartermaster’s wagon until May 1864 when he came to St. Louis. He joined the workers on the Pacific Railroad and cut ties near Knob Noster and Warrensburg, Missouri and again, returned to St. Louis in June 1864. He secured a position with the Quartermaster’s department until he was accosted by Richard C. Day.[11]

Barney Gibbons was in the wrong place, at the wrong time.


[1]File No. LL 2210, Barney Gibbons, Proceedings of a General Court Martial Held at St. Louis, Mo. July 13, 1864, National Archives and Records Administration Microfilm M1523, Proceedings of U. S. Army Courts-Martial and Military Commissions of Union Soldiers Executed by U.S. Military Authorities, 1861-1866.

[2]Ibid.

[3]Military Records, Barney Gibbons, National Archives and Records Administration.

[4]Barney Gibbons, Proceedings.

[5]Ibid.

[6]Ibid.

[7]Ibid.

[8]Ibid.

[9]Ibid.

[10]St. Louis Democrat, August 13, 1864, “Military Execution”.

[11]Ibid.

Sorrowful Revenge by Firing Squad!

True Tales of the Tenth Kansas Infantry

Sorrowful Revenge by Firing Squad!

by Howard Mann

Twenty-four year old Michael Zwicky of rural Washington, Missouri walked along St. John’s Creek on October 23, 1864 with four of his neighbors. They were hunting persimmons when suddenly they spied three bodies lying on the ground partially covered by leaves. Two were in federal uniform, one distinguished as an artillerist, and one in civilian clothing. Horrified, the young men saw three more bodies, one with major’s straps on his coat. The other two bodies were “torn to pieces (I suppose the hogs and buzzards tore them and I saw pieces of brown jeans lying around and near the bodies)”. Zwicky and his comrades hastily reburied the bodies since the retreating Confederate invasion force had recently passed through. They quickly notified the local Justice of the Peace and Coroner, Esquire Kleinbeck.[1]

Kleinbeck rounded up another local man, James M. Kitchen, to investigate the suspicious deaths. Kitchen had heard “fourteen or fifteen shots [being fired] in rapid succession” three weeks earlier on a Monday while hiding in the brush from Sterling Price’s invading forces. Kitchen rifled through the dead major’s pockets to try and identify him. He removed two pocket diaries, a receipt for $25, the two shoulder straps, and several sets of orders including one from Brigadier General Thomas Ewing, signed by his aide-de-camp, Captain Charles S. Hills, Tenth Kansas Infantry. In each case the recipient was Major James Wilson. The body with civilian clothing had a $10 Confederate bill and a $5 Federal greenback, and a photograph of a soldier. Kitchen also found a letter dated May 13, 1864 to “Mr. T. Boyd, ever dear and sweet husband. Most of the letter was unreadable.[2] By that time the Rebels had left the area quickly moving to the west and already on the verge of engaging the Kansas militia and Federal forces in front of Kansas City at the battle of Westport. Only a few weeks before (September 26-27) a much stronger Confederate army had broken itself on repeated charges against the self-same Brigadier General Thomas Ewing and a small 1,000-man force at Pilot Knob, Missouri. Among the missing Union men was Major James Wilson, 3rd Missouri State Militia Cavalry.

The Federal authorities were notified and had been looking for the missing Major. The mystery was quickly solved. Captain Hills had provided Major Wilson with orders early in the action when Price’s army converged across the Arcadia valley in front of Fort Davidson, Pilot Knob. He noted that Major Wilson had a minor head injury and was exhausted from regrouping his 3rd Missouri State Militia Cavalry trying to slow the Confederate onslaught. On September 27th, Wilson was captured along with Captain Franz Dinger, 47th Missouri Infantry.[3]

The first Union soldiers to again validate the identity the unfortunate Major Wilson was Lieutenant Colonel Amos W. Maupin of the 47th Missouri Infantry. Not having sufficient wagons he again buried the bodies by October 25th.[4] Finally on October 28th Lieutenant John F. Jacoby and a party from Wilson’s regiment, 3rd Missouri State Militia Cavalry, arrived with wagons to recover the bodies. Jacoby and his companions easily identified Major Wilson, whose eyes were gone and face blackened through decomposition. A wart on his forehead identified one of the other soldiers, Sergeant John W. Shaw, Company I, 3rd M.S.M. Cavalry.  Private William C. Grotte, of the same company, was recognized by his red hair and profuse freckles on his face and neck. One soldier recognized another man as Private William Skaggs, Company I. A less positive identification was of Corporal William R. Cowley (Gourley), Company I. The body clad in the artillery jacket may have belonged to Company I or K, 3rd M.S.M Cavalry. These companies originally were recruited as artillery and had kept the red-striped jackets. It was obvious that Sterling Price’s men had executed the dead Federals.[5]

In fact, Major Wilson and the entire 3rd Missouri State Militia Cavalry had bitter and personal enemies among Price’s army. The war in southeastern Missouri was waged between families and neighbors in adjoining counties. The balance of pro-Union supporters and pro-southern families dotted the countryside in the southernmost counties of Missouri along the Mississippi River and next to Arkansas. Opposing much of the area patrolled by the 3rd Missouri State Militia Cavalry were pro-Confederate Home Guard units such as Timothy Reeves Company of Independent Scouts. In 1862 events shaped a consolidation of these independent units into a battalion sized regiment, the 15th Missouri Cavalry Regiment, C.S.A. led by Colonel Timothy Reeves. Reeves, a rural Baptist minister, was targeted by the 3rd M.S.M. under Major James Wilson. Members of Wilson’s family were pro-southern and his loyalty to the Union cost him the relationship with his wife, children, brother and father. Since many of the men from both units had been local farmers in Ripley and Pike counties, the guerrilla aspect of war quickly escalated.

According to Kirby Ross in “Atrocity at Doniphan, Missouri” he describes the ensuing events:

“During the course of the war Wilson’s troops routed Reeves’ command several times.  Then on September 19, 1864, under orders from the Union command in St. Louis, Wilson dispatched a small task force consisting of troops from the 3rd M.S.M. and the 47th Missouri Infantry under First Lieutenant Erich Pape, with instructions to burn Doniphan, the seat of Ripley County.  After fulfilling their orders the Federal raiders retreated to the northeast, burning several farms along the route.  At Ponder’s Mill on the Little Black River a pursuing force of Confederates under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Rector Johnson surrounded them and a sharp skirmish ensued.  Several on both sides were killed or wounded, and six Union troops taken prisoner.  All of the prisoners were subsequently executed.”[6]

Reeves and Wilson were personal enemies and Wilson along with five hapless men of the 3rd M.S.M. was in General Sterling Price’s power. As Price’s army retreated away from Pilot Knob, let Brigadier General Thomas Ewing and his men slip from their grasp, and saw St. Louis eluding their invasion, Price decided to turn over his prisoners to Colonel Timothy Reeves and the 15th Missouri Cavalry near Union, Missouri.[7]

Reeves men marched Major Wilson and his men near St. John’s Creek in Franklin County, formed up the firing squad, shot and killed the men.  The dead were left where they lay. In his study of the executions, Kirby Ross continues:

After the war, three Confederates explained the motives behind the executions.  Griffin Frost, who spent time in a military prison with some of Reeves’ men, stated in his diary that Reeves was retaliating for the previous execution of a similar number of his men. Confederate Generals M. Jeff Thompson and Jo Shelby shed light on what may have been the reasons for the acquiescence to the executions by the Confederate senior command and attributed them to the burnings undertaken by Wilson’s men.  General Thompson went on to regret that the killings were not “done by such order and form that retaliation would have been avoided….  [B]ut responsibilities of this kind were not to our commander’s liking, and they were turned over to Reeves to guard, with a pretty full knowledge that they would be shot.”[8]

As General Thompson had foreseen, the Federal response was severe.  On July 30, 1863, President Lincoln had issued orders “that for every soldier of the United States killed in violation of the laws of war, a rebel soldier shall be executed.”  In this spirit and in the cycle of violence alluded to in General Thompson’s statement the U.S. command opened yet another round of reprisals that targeted captured Southern troops held in St. Louis.  “[I]f the laws of war and humanity are not sufficient to secure our prisoners from murder I will add to their force the motive of personal interest,” proclaimed Major General William S. Rosecrans.  A Union military dispatch goes on to tell the tale:  “I have to report to the commanding general that I have this day ordered the slayings of six enlisted rebel prisoners of war, in compliance with his orders to retaliate for the murder of six men of Major Wilson’s command, of the Third Cavalry Missouri State Militia, by the guerrilla, Tim Reves….  Captain Ferguson has been ordered to send a major to Colonel Darr from Independence for the same purpose.”  As Rosecrans ordered, six Confederate enlisted men were selected, taken to a public place, and shot.[9]

Capt. Griffin Frost wrote from Alton, Ill., prison:

“OCT. 28.—The six men who were placed in close confinement on the 9th of this month, were handcuffed and taken to St. Louis this morning, where, it is said they will be shot some time to-day. They are to be executed in retaliation for a Maj. Wilson and six men, who were turned over to Reeves and by him shot, in retaliation for the murder of the same number of his men. When will this thing stop? This game of lex talionis makes sad havoc upon the lives of innocent men.”

The outcry in St. Louis was very loud. Brigadier General Ewing was particularly affected having been Wilson’s commanding officer at Pilot Knob. Ewing was also aware that many of Price’s men would have treated him the same way if he had been captured for promulgating the infamous Order Number 11 that emptied the border counties of Missouri after the burning of Lawrence.[10] Ewing and his commanding officer, General William S. Rosecrans agreed that retribution needed to be made. Rosecrans issued the order for retribution as the body of Major Wilson lay in state in a church in St. Louis.[11]

None of the six condemned privates served in the 15th Missouri Cavalry nor were involved in Price’s battle at Pilot Knob. The hapless men were Harvey H. Blackburn, age 47; George T. Bunch, age unknown; Asa V. Ladd, age 34; Charles W. Minnekin, age 22; George Nichols, age 21 and James W. Gates, age 21. In many ways they were similar to the executed men of the 3rd M.S.M.

James W. Gates was a member of Company H, Captain Dickey’s 3rd Missouri Cavalry. Gates was from Cooper County.

Asa V. Ladd lived in Stoddard County. He was a member of Company A, Jackson’s, in Burbridge’s Missouri Cavalry. Ladd was a farmer and had a wife, Amy, and four children.

Charles W. Minnekin, Independence, Arkansas, was a private in Company A, Crabtree’s Cavalry Regiment.

John Nichols, Company G, 2nd Missouri Cavalry, was from western Cass County, Missouri. Nichols had faced forces containing the Tenth Kansas at Newtonia, Cane Hill and Prairie Grove in the fall of 1862. He would see them again as his executioners.

Harvey H. Blackburn was also from Independence, Arkansas. He was a private in Colonel A. Coleman’s Arkansas Cavalry.

George T. Bunch had been substituted for a teamster, John H. Furgeson. Bunch was a private in Company B, 3rd Missouri Cavalry. They were all captured during the raid.[12]

Absalom Grimes was in a cell in Gratiot St. Prison across from the condemned men the night before they were executed. He wrote:

“Never, so long as I live, will I be able to forget or cease to hear the cries and pleadings of those men after the death warrant had been read to them. Ministers and priests were allowed to visit them and during the entire night their lamentations were ceaseless.”

Asa Ladd story and his last letters to his family

The men were housed in the Gratiot Street Prison and not informed until the day slated for the execution, October 29, 1864. A Catholic priest, Father Ward, and an Episcopalian minister, Reverend Phillip McKim, attended the men in their last few hours. They baptized five of the men, and Asa Ladd, who was already baptized, wrote a heart-rending letter to his wife, Amy, and children. Reverend McKim sorrowfully added a personal note to comfort the unknowing widow.[13]

The men were taken in a covered wagon to Fort Number 4, near Lafayette Park at two o’clock on Saturday, October 29th.  Their escort was made up of men; at least one of them had faced in battle before. The Tenth Kansas Infantry had drawn this distasteful duty before. Several weeks before a firing squad of Tenth Kansas soldiers had shot a Union deserter, Barney Gibbons, to death. The Tenth Kansas had been posted in St. Louis and at the nearby Alton, Illinois, military prison since January 1864. The veteran soldiers finished out their three-year enlistment as prison guards, provost guard, and posted around St. Louis in administrative capacity. The regiment mustered out a majority of the men and officers on August 19, 1864. The same month saw the court-martial and cashiering of their Colonel, William Weer, for improprieties while in command at Alton. The remaining men were steadfast in their desire to complete their duty and they re-enlisted in the Veteran Tenth Kansas Volunteer Infantry under the temporary command of Captain William C. Jones.

The ensuing scene was filled with tension. The Saint Louis Democrat of October 30th described the events:

“On the west side of the fort six posts had been set in the ground, each with a seat attached, and each tied with a strip of white cotton cloth, afterward used in bandaging the eyes of the prisoners. Fifty-four men were selected as the executioners. Forty-four belonged to the 10th Kansas and ten to the 41st Missouri. Thirty-six of these comprised the front firing party, eighteen being reserved in case they should not do this work effectually.

About three o’clock the prisoners arrived on the ground, and sat down, attached to the posts. They all appeared to be more or less affected, but, considering the circumstances, remained remarkably firm. Father Ward and Rev. Mr. McKim spoke to the men in their last moments, exhorting them to put their trust in God. The row of posts ranged north and south, and at the first on the north was Asa V. Ladd, on his left was George Nichols; next Harvey H. Blackburn, George T. Bunch, Charles W. Minnekin, and James W. Gates. Ladd and Blackburn sat with perfect calmness, with their eyes fixed on the ground, and did not speak. Nichols shed tears, which he wiped away wit a red pocket-handkerchief, and continued to weep until his eyes were bandaged. Nichols gave no sign of emotion at first, but sat with seeming indifference, scraping the ground with his heel. He asked one of the surgeons if there was any hope of a postponement, and being assured that there was none, he looked more serious, and frequently ejaculated, “Lord, have mercy on my poor soul!” Again he said: “O, to think of the news that will go to father and mother!”

After the reading of the sentence by Col. Heinrichs, Minnekin expressed a desire to say a few words. He said:

“Soldiers, and all of you who hear me, take warning from me. I have been a Confederate soldier four years, and have served my country faithfully. I am now to be shot for what other men have done, that I had no hand in, and know nothing about. I never was a guerrilla, and I am sorry to be shot for what I had nothing to do with, and what I am not guilty of. When I took a prisoner, I always treated him kindly and never harmed a man after he surrendered. I hope God will take me to his bosom when I am dead. O, Lord, be with me!”

While the sergeant was bandaging his eyes, Minnekin, said: “Sergeant, I don’t blame you. I hope we will all meet in heaven. Boys, farewell to you all; the Lord have mercy on our poor souls!”

The firing party was about ten paces off. Some of the Kansas men appeared to be reluctant to fire upon the prisoners, but Captain Jones told them it was their duty; that they should have no hesitation, as these men had taken the life of many a Union man who was as innocent as themselves.

At the word, the thirty-six soldiers fired simultaneously, the discharge sounding like a single explosion. The aim of every man was true. One or two of the victims groaned, and Blackburn cried out: “Oh, kill me quick!” In five minutes they were all dead, their heads falling to one side, and their bodies swinging around to the sides of the posts, and being kept from falling by the pinions on their arms. Five of them were shot through the heart, and the sixth received three balls in his breast, dying almost instantly.

The execution was witness by several thousand spectators, most of them soldiers, and it was conducted in a manner highly creditable to those engaged in the performance of the disagreeable duty.

The bodies were placed in plain painted coffins, and interred by Mr. Smithers.”[14]

The Confederate major selected, Major Enoch O. Wolf, Ford’s Battalion was ordered to be shot in November 1864. Major Wolf credited his reprieve to his showing the Mason’s sign to his minister. He claimed that President Lincoln wired an order ending the execution.[15] A second telling by Brigadier General Thomas Fletcher, 47th Missouri Infantry, who had been at Pilot Knob, was slightly different.

“Eleven Confederate Majors in our hands were compelled to draw lots to determine who should be shot in retaliation for the murder of Wilson. The man so selected was in charge, for a time, of Lieut. Col. Charles S. Hills of the 10th Kansas, then on staff duty. Col. Hills became interested in him. The night before the morning fixed for his execution, Col. Hills appealed to Hon. Henry T. Blow, one of the noble-hearted, patriotic men who deservedly stood near to the great generous-hearted Lincoln. He telegraphed Mr. Lincoln and the answer came to stay the execution, and it remains stayed until this day.”[16]

Documentation, letters, diaries, or comments by the men and officers of the Tenth Kansas Infantry have never surfaced. The execution apparently affected the men to the point of wavering in their duty. The veterans would fight against Missourians at Nashville in December 1864 and at the last large land battle of the Civil War, Fort Blakely, April 9, 1865. It does seem that the Kansas grew to respect and connect more with their opponents as the war ground to a halt. During the lulls in siege at Fort Blakely, the Kansas and Missouri men would talk with each other, swap tobacco and coffee, and wish for home.


[1]“The Retaliation: The Murder of Wilson and his Comrades”, St. Louis Democrat. October 31, 1864.

[2]Idid.

[3]Suderow, Bryce A., Thunder in Arcadia Valley: Price’s Defeat, September 27, 1864. Southeast Missouri State University, 1986. pages 71-72; Peterman, Cyrus A. and Hanson, Joseph Mills, Pilot Knob: The Thermopylae of the West. Two Trails Publishing Company, 2000. pages 95-96.

[4]“Retribution: The Murder of Wilson and his Comrades”, St. Louis Democrat. October 29, 1864.

[5]Ibid.

[6]Ross, Kirby. “Atrocity at Doniphan, Missouri”. Unpublished manuscript used with permission of the author.

[7]Wilson, James Papers. Western Historical Manuscript Collection. “Testimony of Capt. Franz Dinger, the main witness concerning the battle of Pilot Knob, the capture of Maj. Wilson, and treatment after surrender, taken in St. Louis on October 30, 1864.”

[8] Ross, Atrocity at Doniphan; Donal J. Stanton, Goodwin F. Berquist, and Paul C. Bowers, The Civil War Reminiscences of General M. Jeff Thompson (Dayton, OH.: Morningside 1988) 294; General Joseph Shelby correspondence to Major C.C. Rainwater read before the Southern Historical Association, Ewing Family Papers, Box 213; Letter from Gen. J.O. Shelby, CSA to Maj. C.C. Rainwater, Jan. 5, 1888, Cyrus Peterson Battle of Pilot Knob Research Collection, Missouri Historical Society, St. Louis, MO.  See also, Griffin Frost, Camp and Prison Journal (Quincy, Ill.: Quincy Herald Book and Job Office 1867).

[9] Ross; Roy P. Basler (ed.), The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, 9 vols. (New Brunswick, New Jersey: 1953, VI: p. 357; General Order No. 252, Official Records, Ser. 1, Vol. XXXIII, pp. 866-867; Official Records, Ser. 1, Vol. XLI, Pt. 4, p. 316; Official Records, Ser. 2, Vol. VI, p. 163; Official Records, Ser. 2, Vol. VII, pp. 1118-1119

[10]Thunder in Arcadia Valley, page 151, pages 35 – 36.

[11]“Retribution”

[12]Ibid. “The Retaliation”.

[13]“The Retaliation”.

[14]St. Louis Democrat. “A Military Execution: Shooting of Six Rebel Soldiers”. October 30, 1863.

[15]Bartels, Carolyn. The Last-Long Mile: Westport to Arkansas October 1864. Two Trails Publishing, 1999. pages 115 – 120.

[16]“The Asa Ladd Story”. Ladd Digging Ground. http://homepages.rootsweb.com/~ladd/asa.htm.

Paradox of Captain George D Brooke

True Tales of the Tenth Kansas Infantry:

The Paradox of Captain George D. Brooke

by Howard Mann

In August 1864 the Tenth Kansas underwent a dramatic transformation. Having served for three years, two in the field and the last parceled throughout St. Louis and Alton as prison guards, it is small wonder that the stresses and strains of service told on officers and men, alike. A more difficult period in the life of the regiment could not be imagined. Colonel William Weer went past the boundaries of testing the authorities above and managed to divide the regiment’s loyalties over his conduct at Alton Military prison. The resulting court martial caused Weer to be stripped of his rank and cashiered from duty. Two other incidents revealed two different perspectives of another long time Tenth Kansas officer, Captain George D. Brooke.

Captain Brooke was a mainstay of the regiment having enlisted as First Lieutenant of Company A, Third Kansas Volunteers and quickly being promoted to the head of his company since upon transfer to the Tenth Kansas, Company C. Captain Brooke was 42 years old in 1864 and while enlisting from Kansas City, had family in Lawrence, Kansas.

When the Tenth Kansas Infantry arrived in St. Louis, Missouri in January 1864, the veterans were needed as prison guards at the military prison in Alton, Illinois across the Mississippi River. Some companies served on additional details as many of the officers were moved to staff positions with Major General Rosecrans or Brigadier General Thomas Ewing, Jr. in St. Louis. Two secondary posts for the Tenth Kansas were as guards of St. Louis’s Gratiot Street Prison and the lesser Myrtle Street prison.

Originally known as Lynch’s Slave Pen, the Myrtle Street Prison stood two blocks from the St. Louis courthouse on Myrtle and Fifth street (Broadway and Clark Streets today). Also known as the “Hotel de Lynch” the structure consisted of a two and one-half story brick building. Built to hold slaves by an enterprising dealer, the pen was naturally designed to contain prisoners with barred windows and locks and bolts for chains. The prison capacity was one hundred with an additional overseer’s quarters upstairs. In September 1861 twenty-seven prisoners were moved into the slave pen for the first time. By May 1862 Myrtle Street Prison was abandoned in favor of the more spacious Gratiot Street Prison. Due to overcrowding, however, Myrtle Street Prison was again put into service on November 5, 1862, receiving 150 of the overcrowded Gratiot Street prisoners. By September 1864, the Provost Marshal reported about Myrtle Street Prison, “This old negro stall [Myrtle] is a nuisance in every respect and will not do for the coming winter.” This was not a pleasant post for any officer.

Captain Brooke was first posted to replace another Tenth Kansas officer, Captain Samuel J. Stewart on July 12, 1864.

Captain Brooke seemed to be everywhere at once when an escape attempt quickly occurred. The August 15, 1864 edition of the St. Louis Democrat reported the following humorous story.

“Several days ago, Captain Brooks, company C, 10th Kansas Infantry, keeper of Myrtle street military prison, received information that several of his prisoners were engaged in an attempt to escape. He therefore, kept a close watch on the movements of his prisoners, and posted his sentinels in such positions that escape from the building would be next to impossible. He had instructed the officer of the guard every night to place the most trustworthy men on post at the prison, and had cautioned the sentinels to be on the look-out for an attempt on the part of the prisoners to escape. On Saturday night Lieutenant Charles T. Knoll, of the 10th E.M.M., was officer of the guard, and is entitled to great credit for his vigilance.

Love, which “laughs at locksmiths,” pulls the wool over the eyes of philosophers, and makes a fool of the wisest sage, was at the bottom of this affair; but as

“The course of true love never did run smooth,”

So in this case it ran against the rough edge of Lieutenant Knoll’s sentinels, and came to grief. No one, in looking at the uninviting exterior of the Myrtle street prison, would suppose that its walls were calculated for a nursery of the tender passion, or that they confined a fair Cleopatra whose fascinations could tempt Anthony to lay a world at her feet; but appearances are often deceitful, and Myrtle prison has its romance as well as the French bastille and the Italian dungeons.

See more on Annie Fickle in the Gratiot Women and Children’s prisoner list and corresponding Prisoner Notes

Our readers may remember reading in the Democrat, several months ago, an account of the killing of the guerrilla chief, James Blunt, in Lafayette county, and the arrest of his betrothed, Miss Annie Fickle. This young lady, who is said to be something of a beauty, high spirited, about 23 years of age, and a rank rebel at heart, was confined in a room, in the prison, with five other female prisoners. Her deportment during her confinement has been decorous and lady-like, and she has been treated with as much indulgence as the prison rules will allow.

Charles Warner, of the 1st Nebraska, also a prisoner, saw Annie and fell desperately in love with her. Whether his passion was reciprocated, the lady can alone tell; but it seems that she encouraged his attentions, for several reasons. He had been promoted to the position of head cook for the prison guard, and had conducted himself so well that Captain Brooks had the utmost confidence in him, and did not suppose that he had any desire to escape, as several opportunities had been presented which he manifested no disposition to take advantage of. A short time ago he had got out of the prison and spent a night in the city, but returned the next day. Warner had been sentenced to twelve month’s confinement for leaving his post and carrying whiskey to prisoners, and three-fourths of his time had expired. Annie was doomed to remain in duress for a longer period, and Warner determined to steal her – fly with her to some remote land – make her his own – settle down to the cultivation of turnips, cabbages and children, and become a worthy citizen.

To carry out his plan, he let six of his fellow prisoners into this secret, and obtained their assistance in burrowing out of the prison. A piece of file and an old iron poker were obtained, and about a week ago the party went to work with these simple tools. Beginning at the corner of the kitchen, in the eastern part of prison, they succeeded in making an opening under the floor, and through two brick walls east and north of the kitchen. But one wall remained to be cut through, and they had worked about a dozen bricks out of this and made a small opening, when at half-past two o’clock yesterday morning the sentinel posted immediately over the place descried them and gave the alarm. Captain Brooks called up Sergeant Issac T. Swart, company A, 10th Kansas, and Sergeant James R. Kennedy, company I, same regiment, and hurried to the place. On seeing the opening in the wall, Sergeant Swart plunged in like a bull-dog after a badger, and confronted the fugitives. They were waiting eagerly for the last wall to be cut through, and felt confident that in a few moments they would be at liberty. Annie was in front, and Warner sat with his back against the opening, which had been made. The party were conducted to the “Ice-box,” and in future will not be allowed as many privileges as heretofore. The following are the prisoners who accompanied Warner in his expedition:

John C. Eates, 25th Missouri, has been ten months in prison, and was recently tried by court-martial, but his sentence has not been promulgated.

John Williams, 30th M.S.M., committed April 11, 1864, and tried a few days ago for deserting five times; sentence not promulgated.

James and John Berry, brothers, the first a lieutenant, the other a sergeant in company D, 14th Kansas; committed April 12, 1864, and not yet tried. They are charged with murder, desertion, and about all the other offenses known to military law.

David Best, 9th M.S.M.; sentenced to confinement at hard labor for six months; sent from St. Joseph.

David Mills, 1st Iowa; committed July 15, 1864, and under sentence to be shot September 2nd, for desertion. Mills had been shackled with ball and chain, which he had managed to unfasten. When Captain Brooks asked him how they got off, he said they “dropped off,” and the Captain fastened them on him again, and said, “When you get these off again, let me know.” “Yes, Captain,” said Mills, “I’ll come right in and let you know.”

Warner, the cook, who had periled his life in attempting to rescue Annie Fickle, appeared greatly mortified at his failure. He had but little to say, however, on the subject, but will, no doubt, recover from his love fit long before his charmer regains the light of liberty.”

Captain Brooke’s diligence did not remain unassailable for long. He inherited a substantial problem in the structure of the old building, the overcrowded conditions and with the ingenuity of his prisoners. His selection as commanding officer of the prison was predicated on an existing problem as noted by the Provost Marshal. In a communiqué on July 9, 1864 it was noted that “an officer of more dignity and self respect should be appointed.” Captain Stewart was observed as “on too intimate terms with prisoners, eating and sleeping with Lieutenant Hines & Major Coats.” Since Brooke was consumed by his vigilance for more dramatic escapes, he was not as prepared for Lieutenant Hines to simply walk away.

The story unfolded on September 12, 1864 with a short note from Captain Brooke to Colonel J. P. Sanderson, Provost Marshal General:

“Sir:

I have to inform you of the escape from confinement at this prison of Lieut. H. H. Hine. From all that I can learn, it was about one o’clock this morning. Sergt. Stewart saw him returning from the privy about that hour. Sergt. Deitz who was on watch for the night, informs me that he made his rounds outside of the prison at about one o’clock and the presumption is that he (Hine) pass’d the Sentinel at the door, during the time that the Sergt. on watch was out, and escaped.”

While the facts started out simple, they were quickly complicated by more complex circumstances. A second note, the same day, recognized that it was there was inside assistance.

“Sir,

Since I forwarded the written report of the escape of Lieut. Hine to your office, Sergt. Deitz, who was on watch during the night, has owned up that he permitted him to go under the pretense of getting some money promising to return in two hours time. I was about to send Sergt. Deitz after the Sentinel, who was on post at the door at the time Hine, was supposed to have escaped, and he concluded to make a clean breast of it and acknowledge his complicity with the affair. I at once placed him under arrest, and will prefer charges against him.”

Possibly realizing that he might be held accountable for this perplexing situation, Brooke wrote again on September 14 to Colonel James Darr, Assistant Provost Marshal:

“Sir,

I have the honor as directed by you this day to forward to your office, a list of the employees in this Prison Office, as follows.

Sergt. J. H. Stewart, Clerk, Corpl. Elijah Strosnider, Prison Keeper, Sergt. Wm. F. Waggoner, Commissary Sergt.

I would further state that when I took command of this Prison I found G. J. Ham and Maj. Coats, both prisoners, employed to a certain extent in the Office. Ham as Clerk and Coats in charge of the Medicine and the Ice Box and was informed by my predecessor, Capt. Stewart, that they were there with the approbation and wish of Capt. Burdett. I therefore permitted them to remain. Today I received instructions from Maj. Williams not to allow it, unless authorized by competent authority. I therefore removed them at once.”

Whether politically motivated, as many court-martial cases were, or through an earnest desire to uncover the truth, the Provost Marshal and his assistant quickly filed charges against Captain Brooke through Major Lucien Eaton, Judge Advocate under Special Orders #22 for a General Court-martial on September 28, 1864. The trial was held on October 11, 1864 at 10 o’clock at the Southeast corner of 5th and Pine streets, Room number 5, 3rd Floor. Brigadier General Solomon Meredith presides as President of the court-martial. The witness list expanded to soldiers and civilians. In the charges and specifications Captain Brooke was accused of extending privileges to certain prisoners at Mrytle Street Prison that allowed for the escape to occur.

The official charge is “Neglect of duty to the prejudice of good order and military discipline.” The specification concerns the “permitting sundry prisoners there confined as well as other persons, unlawful ingress and egress from and into said prison.”

The trial centered around Captain Brooke’s knowledge of three “privileged” prisoners, Lt. H. H. Hine, 2nd Colorado Cavalry, Lt. G. J. Ham, and Major Coats, who all occupied the upper room and held unofficial duties under several regimes of prison commanders. It was quickly established that the enlisted men did not know that the three were even prisoners, but poorly dressed officers of the prison. Since none of the men were Confederates, this is plausible. While the sergeants, who shared an extra upper room with the prisoners, knew they were incarcerated, they may have thought they had additional privileges from the other prisoners.

Captain Brooke protested his innocence in a forthright, factual manner. The second witness, Charles Y. Mason was a prisoner, possibly with an ax to grind. His diatribe revealed that the prison was rampant with illicit activities. He stated that Hine was frequently escorted to houses of “ill-fame” by prison guards and that prisoners could get whiskey. He accused Brooke of being lax in both of these areas as well as allowing prisoners to mix with the few female prisoners kept in a separate room. The trial quickly moved to interrogations of women that had visited Lieutenant Hine at Myrtle Street. With a Victorian purient interest, the prosecutor questioned Mary Chapman, a widow who was obviously a prostitute. Chapman established that she had an ongoing relationship with Lt. Hine since 1861. When asked, “What was the nature of these calls” (by Lt. Hines), she replied, “Friendly Calls.” Mary Chapman also noted visiting other prisoners who had escaped in the past and that Union guards accompanied many. A laundress, Mary Wood, was more evasive, swearing that she had picked up Hine’s laundry at the prison and nothing more. A washerwoman, Dora Gray and her daughter, Sarah Jane McDermott, 14, were even more mysterious. Sarah revealed that she occasionally acted as a go between, but would only acknowledge she had taken a basket of food to Lt. Hine at the prison. The women were unshaken in their affirmation of lack of knowledge.

The seemingly guilty Sergeant Deitz, Company B, 10th Kansas, who was arrested on September 11, 1864 for allowing the escape, made it clear that he believed that Hine would return after acquiring money. He noted that Privates Benton Baily, Company B, 6th Missouri Cavalry and John C. Pierce, Company D, 6th Missouri Cavalry, both prison guards thought Hine was an officer of the prison. Sergeant James H. Stewart, Company D, 10th Kansas Infantry, explained how he and Corporal Elijah Strosnider, Prison Keeper, examined packages and letters of the prisoners and noted nothing unusual. While he firmly believed that Deitz purposefully let Hine escape, Stewart was surprised and defended Deitz’s motives and Brooke’s professionalism.

While others were named as witnesses, such as Colonel Sanderson, Provost Marshal, they either did not appear or claimed illness. No one wanted to accept responsibility nor blame. The court accepted Captain Brooke’s story, as well as the arrest of Sergeant Deitz as a final farewell to Lieutenant Henry. H. Hine. The guilty party in the escape was the lack of communication between officers and staff, the fraternization between Union soldiers and Union prisoners, and the building, itself, which did not easily accommodate overcrowding. Captain Brooke was, at most, admonished but not removed from office. Captain George D. Brooke remained with the regiment until June 16, 1865 having been a good officer, even commanding the regiment at one point. Private Lewis A. Deitz from Ogden, Kansas, mustered out with the regiment on August 30, 1865. James H. Stewart, Sergeant, mustered out shortly after the incident, in October 1864. Lieutenant Henry H. Hine, Second Colorado Cavalry disappeared from the scene.

Excitement at Alton Prison

True Tales of the Tenth Kansas Infantry:

Excitement at Alton Prison

by Howard Mann

Duty as prison guards at Alton Prison in April 1864 was monotonous and a repetitive daily routine. The Tenth Kansas had drawn the laborious, unrewarding duty in January 1864 after hard marching and campaigning in Missouri, Arkansas and Indian Territory. Not all prisoners at Alton were confederate rebels. Alton was the first Illinois State penitentiary built in 1833 but closed on the eve of the Civil War in favor of the newer and more modern Joliet prison.[ 1] The large numbers of civilian, women and Union soldier prisoners that were kept in the general population distinguished the prison from other military prisons during the conflict. Among the prisoners were a band of horse thieves from Jersey county, Illinois with a penchant for escape.

The regiment was lauded as veteran troops by the local citizenry.[2] Yet by April the Tenth Kansas had been ravaged by smallpox losing twelve men in March alone.[3] The regiment was also undergoing a severe political crisis that would reach a head in April with the arrest and court-martial of Colonel William Weer for misappropriation of prisoner funds and several incidents of drunkenness and neglect of the prison’s needs.[4] In spite of the turmoil the guards had their orders. On April 1st the local newspaper published “Instructions Concerning Prisoners”.

“…The Secretary also enjoins that sentinels shall be instructed in regard to the rules and regulations of the prison, so that when a sentinel shoots a prisoner, the reason for so doing shall be known.”[5]

The same day ended with an attempt at escape on April 1st.

“Strange as it may seem, prisoners are not always content with the reward of their crimes, and now and then there are those who seek to take “French leave” of their quarters, and commit themselves to the world’s cold charities. Such an effort was made last night by several of the prisoners in the military prison here. It seems that soon after dark the guard on the north end of the prison had his fears excited, or rather the vigilance increased by hearing certain ominous sounds in the earth beneath him. About midnight he could distinctly hear the voices of the would be fugitives. He supposed they were coming out in the second ditch from the wall, and was on the lookout for them there, but on turning discovered a man’s head – with body attached of course – rising from the first ditch. The sentinel immediately fired, the ball just grazing the top of said head, causing it to disappear on double quick.”

“The hole was found full of Jersey county horse thieves – seven in number. Had they succeeded, many of their boon companions from the Sunny South would doubtless have followed. But the plan failed and all still remain in “durance vile”. The tunnel is about forty feet long and well suited to the purpose, the only fault with it being that it opened near the beat of one of the watchful boys of the 10th Kansas”[6]

Tragedy increased the tension between guards and prisoners when on April 6th an altercation occurred.

“Some days since, one Hiram Miller, a prisoner in the Military Prison in this city, attempted to escape thro’ the roof of the building, and was shot at by the guard. He afterwards threatened to kill the guard, private Rice of Co. H, and last night made an attack on him with stones when Rice snapped his gun, which refused to go off. Miller then came at him with a bar of iron, when he ran his bayonet into him, and called for help. The guard outside placed his gun through the grating and shot Miller thro’ the heart.”[7]

Private Hiram Miller had been returned from the hospital on February 1, 1864. The Tenth Kansas guard, Private George Rice, Company H, had enlisted from Terre Haute, Indiana on July 16, 1863. He continued with the regiment by transferring to Veteran Company D until mustering out on August 30, 1865.

The announcement of Colonel Weer’s Court of Inquiry must have given the prisoners a nudge towards a second attempt towards freedom. On April 7th a second attempt was made by some of the ringleaders of the Jersey county prisoners. Two are successful, one, Henderson is a guerilla leader from Jerseyville, Illinois.

“It will be seen by the Military Prison Report published in another column – that four prisoners made their escape last night from Bluff Castle. We understand that they filed the iron grating out of one of the cells on the west side of the building and made their escape in that way. There was a number of others all ready to make their exit in the same manner when they were discovered.”

“Henderson and Needham, who are mentioned in the report as having escaped, are old offenders. The former escaped from the prison once before and was afterwards retaken with the Jersey county horse thieves a few weeks since. Needham was sent here a sentenced prisoner from Memphis, and claims to be a British subject. Both of these desperadoes were engaged in the attempt to escape by digging a tunnel, as published by us a week ago last Saturday. It is very much to be desired that they may be retaken and confined again as, it is unsafe to have them running at large.”[8]

The very next night a second malcontent tried to follow suit.

“We have been informed that Mahlon Bright, a citizen of Jersey County, Illinois, tried to bribe one of the guards to let him escape from the Military Prison last night. But the noble soldier reported the matter to his officers, who gave orders for the place to be closely watched. Very soon the prisoner made his appearance at the same grating from which the prisoners escaped the other night, and commenced letting him self out, but when he heard the guard cock his gun, he made an attempt to get back, but too late to escape the effects of the discharge of the piece. He was wounded in several places, but not dangerously, but sufficiently so to keep him quiet for some time.”[9]

Even prisoners incarcerated in St. Louis heard of the escape. Griffin Frost, a prisoner in the Gratiot Street prison noted in his diary:

“April, 12. – Heard last week that a number of prisoners had escaped from Alton. My brother John has been sent from there to Fort Delaware, it seems he finds the later place a little too tough eve for his philosophy. Says he very much prefers Alton.”[10]

Colonel Weer, even though facing pressure from a petition to remove him from his command, must have felt that the Jersey county rebels had inside assistance. He made allegations against a popular and well-known young lady. Unfortunately he incurred the displeasure of his commanding officer, General William S. Rosecrans. Rosecrans was also pushing along Weer’s inquiry. On April 16th Colonel Weer called his female suspect to his office.

“Upon this subject we place before our readers a communication from a mutual friend. We learn that the lady has gone on a visit to her friends in the East. The following is the communication”

For the Democratic Union

Mr. Editor: – I see in your last issue the statement of the arrest of Miss ANNA FLETCHER (with others) by order of Col. Weer. They were charged with assisting the Jersey County prisoners to escape, by furnishing them with a watch-Spring saw. As regards Miss Fletcher, the above charge was not made against her, at all, before the Provost Marshal General of St. Louis, but a mere request of Col. Weer, that she should be made take the oath of allegiance and give bond. “General Rosecrans, being present laughed and said “It was ridiculous,” and released her without complying with Col. Weer’s request.”

J. F. Griggsby

“We hope the assertions in the above communication taken from the Jerseyville Democratic Union, in reference to Miss Fletcher is true. We cannot help but feel a strong interest in this young lady, and a sincere desire that the charges made against her should prove false, from the fact, that we were well and intimately acquainted with her father, whom we knew to be a noble, high-minded, and intelligent gentleman, and a sincere and devoted friend to his country.”

“It will be recollected, by our citizens, that mainly through his efforts, a company of volunteers were raised in this city for the Mexican war. A man by the name of Baker was chosen captain, and Fletcher, Robbins and Ferguson chosen lieutenants. In the battle of Buena Vista all three of the lieutenants were killed, and the captain lost his right eye. The bodies of the brave and noble fellows were brought to this city. A large crowd turned out to their funeral ceremonies. Patriotic and buncombe speeches were made in abundance, and it was resolved to erect a fine monument over their graves. But nearly twenty years have passed, and there is nothing to mark the spot where these patriotic braves are to be found, except a pine board with their names inscribed thereon. But their memories are ineffaceably engraven on the hearts of a few friends, which is far better than a costly monument erected by a cold and unfeeling world.”

“These being the facts in the history of Miss Fletcher’s father, we shall be very lo(a)th to credit any damaging reports against her character, and are rejoiced to learn from the above communication that there was no substantial reason for her arrest.”[11]

By the end of August 1864, Colonel Weer would be court-martialed and cashiered from the service. The notorious Henderson was gunned down with another southern Illinois rebel Colonel Carlin while planning a raid on Jerseyville. The normal tedium of prisoner of war guard duty did not hold true for the Tenth Kansas during the month of April 1864.


[1]Alton Military Penitentiary in the Civil War: Smallpox and Burial on the Alton Harbor Islands, Cox, Jann, 1988, page 47.

[2]Alton Telegraph, “The 10th Kansas”, April 29, 1864

[3]Listing of Alton National Cemetery Interments by Date, Don Huber Collection

[4]Alton Telegraph, “Court of Inquiry”, April 8, 1864

[5]Alton Telegraph, “Instructions Concerning Prisoners”, April 1, 1864

[6]Alton Telegraph, “Attempted Escape from ‘Bluff Castle”, April 1, 1864

[7]Alton Telegraph, “Prisoner Killed”, April 8, 1864

[8]Alton Telegraph, “Escape of Prisoners”, April 8, 1864

[9]Alton Telegraph, “Another Attempt to Escape”, April  8, 1864

[10]Camp and Prison Journal, Frost, Griffin, 1994, page 122

[11] Alton Telegraph, “The Arrest of Miss Fletcher”, April 29, 1864

Raid on a Nest of Nymphs

True Tales of the Tenth Kansas Infantry:

Raid on a Nest of Nymphs

by Howard Mann

In August of 1864, the Tenth Kansas had almost completed its obligation to the Union. After a tenuous start as part of the Kansas Brigade in 1861, consolidation in early 1862, weathering the tests of battle throughout the fall and winter months of 1863, and enduring the tedious pursuit of guerillas until assigned the grueling duty of prison guards at Alton Prison in Illinois in 1864, the Tenth was about to muster out. The most wearing aspect of the Tenth Kansas’s tenure was the inconsistency of its officers. Colonel William Weer was undergoing a court-martial for embezzlement of prisoner funds. Lieutenant Colonel John T. Burris had been detached from the regiment since the Indian Expedition on administrative duties at Fort Leavenworth and Kansas City. Major Henry H. Williams, while remaining with the regiment had been detached in St. Louis on the staff of Brigadier General Thomas Ewing.

Gratiot Street PrisonThe original posting of the Tenth Kansas as prison guards at Alton Military Prison did not require all of the regiment’s ten companies. Other companies were assigned to provide guards at St. Louis’s two prisons, Gratiot Street Prison (the old McDowell Medical College) and the Myrtle Street Prison. Some of the soldiers under the command of Captain Mathew Quigg were assigned to provost guard duty in the city of St. Louis.

Mathew Quigg was one of the premier officers of the Tenth Kansas. Originally a militia officer of “Lane’s Fencibles” from Atchison, Kansas, Captain Quigg led his stalwarts to Fort Leavenworth at the outbreak of war. His unit was uniformed, armed and well-drilled, unlike many of the eager young farm boys who would join Lane’s Brigade in search of adventure. Quigg’s men came prepared for war. Captain Quigg was frequently placed in command in tight situations at Locust Grove and Prairie Grove specifically. At one point he was being backed to replace a colonel in another regiment who was being cashiered. Captain Quigg was a recognized leader. But even a recognized leader can come up against a formidable opponent.

The St. Louis Democrat, August 18, 1864 reported one of Captain Quigg’s last encounters before mustering out the same month.

“RAID ON A NEST OF NYMPHS — A week or two ago, we noticed the visit of Colonel Baker and Captain Quigg to the five-story building on Fifth street, between Pine and Chesnut, the upper stories of which are occupied as dens of prostitution by a happy family of white and black men, women and children. The occasion of this official visit was to inquire into the truth of complaints that had been made to the military authorities in regard to the nuisance committed by the occupants of the house in “Harrolson Alley.” Colonel Baker cautioned the persons found in the rooms, that if any more complaints were brought to him he would proceed to turn them out and take possession of the premises. For a few days the occupants of the rooms gave no cause of complaint, but soon relapsed into their old habits, and so annoyed the females employed in the Government workshop on the opposite side of the alley that they could not endure it, and reported the facts to Colonel Baker. One Tuesday the Colonel sent a Lieutenant of the Provost Guard to notify the nymphs that they must vacate the premises before night. The girls obtained a respite until Wednesday morning, when the Lieutenant took a guard and turned them out of doors. Eighteen rooms were confiscated. Some of the inmates had taken time by the forelock and skedaddled, but others being unable, like Noah’s dove to find rest for the soles of their feet, had returned to the ark and abandoned themselves to their fate. One lady, however, was permitted to remain undisturbed, because she represented herself as the wife of a Lieutenant of the 11th Missouri cavalry, at Little Rock; two or three others were found in bed with haggard countenances, moaning in great apparent distress, and complaining of being exceedingly sick, and of course the officer was too chivalric to turn sick women out into the streets, and they too were allowed to remain. One young girl was sitting on her trunk, with a despairing countenance; she had not found other lodgings, and declared that she intended to end her woes by taking “pizen.” A large sized Amazon, called “Noisey Belle” had been unable to get away because the landlord held her furniture for back rent and would not permit her to remove it. The soldiers settled the dispute by tumbling Belle’s furniture, bedding, crockery-ware, bonnets, bundles, etc., out upon the sidewalk. The upper story was occupied by colored people, who were not molested.

The portion of the building cleared out is owned by the Tyler estate, and is leased to parties who sublet the rooms to any one who will pay for them. This example will doubtless be a sufficient warning to the large congregation of lewd women in other parts of the building, but if they do not conduct themselves with more propriety in (the) future, they also will be ejected by the military arm.”

Captain Quigg returned home and mustered out with about half of the existing regiment by the time the article was published. The remaining veterans of the Tenth again consolidated into four companies of the Veteran Tenth Kansas Volunteer Infantry. The Veteran Tenth would plunge into the nightmarish last days of Hood’s Franklin/Nashville campaign and end up charging the earthworks at Fort Blakeley, Alabama. Added to the Tenth’s honors should be the storming of “Harrolson’s Alley”.