On the night of July 4, 1860, Franz Sigel’s men found themselves in camp north of the city of Carthage, Jasper County, Missouri. Unbeknownst to them, Gov. Claiborne Jackson’s men, under his own command, lay in wait, just over a ridge further north. Though the Confederate forces had Sigel’s men grossly outnumbered, almost six to one, nearly a third of Jackson’s forces were not armed. Still, the Confederate soldiers who had weapons and were ready for battle had a great advantage on the Union Army. On the dawn of July 5, Jackson drew his men into formation along the ridge. Sigel had been chasing him across the state. Jackson wondered if Sigel would take this opportunity and attack. It did not take long for the governor to receive an answer.
Will’s regiment had been part of the encampment that settled down in Carthage the night of July 4. There were plenty of rumors going around that Confederate soldiers were in the area. Of course, they had heard th
Cordia, like most other citizens of Barton County, spent much of July 5 standing around outside of the courthouse, waiting to see if a casualty list would be posted. Of course, everyone was fairly sure that it was too soon for anyone to send a telegraph with news of the engagement from Carthage that day. All they knew was that Jackson’s men had attacked Sigel’s somewhere north of Carthage. They also knew there had been another skirmish, a little farther south, near the town of Neosho.While Cordia was taking all this news in stride, Susannah had spent the better part of the day crying herself sick. Her young boys had stared at her at first, wondering if something had happened to their pa. Eventually, their grandmother came to take them to her house, and Susannah and Cordia spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the courthouse lawn. Julia was camped there as well, along with her aunt and many of the other women. Some of them Cordia did not recognize, and she as
On July 7, Jackson decided not to follow Sigel’s men on their retreat toward Springfield. There were Confederate soldiers, under Gen. Ben McCulloch and Gen. Sterling Price, already stationed there. However, with the growing call to arms from the Confederate Army, a number of men decided to detach from the Missouri State Guard, and enlisted with the Confederate troops, officially becoming part of the Confederate Army. Jaris Adams was part of that regiment. He made the long, slow trip toward Springfield, along with a few hundred other men, many of which were also from Barton County. He had hoped to find time along the trip to send word to Cordia and his mother that he had survived his first engagement, but free time was hard to come by. Eventually, they found the Confederate Army and were enlisted. Jaris retained his rank of lieutenant and was soon drilling with a whole other set of men.Throughout the rest of July, both armies were relatively quiet as far as fighting was
It had been a surprise attack. Around four o’clock that morning, Jaris was awakened to the sound of panic. “They’re coming!” men were yelling. Soldiers were scrambling for their guns, trying to form a line, trying to stop the Yankees as they poured over the high ground in front of them.Though Lyon’s men had used the element of surprise, it had not taken long for the Confederate forces to regroup. The fighting was extremely intense. Jaris’s men spent a great deal of time combating in a cornfield. He had done tremendously well, killing a number of Union soldiers, while still managing to keep his men from fleeing the field. Suddenly, about an hour into the attack, a large number of fresh Union soldiers swept over the hilltop, charging toward Jaris’s company. They seemed to be outnumbered. He looked around to see if any other troops were available to help, but then he realized the rest of the Confederate soldiers were giving up the groun
The heat of the August sun was blazing. It was only a short walk from the large two-story house on Broadway Street up to the town square, but even with a sunbonnet on, Cordia could feel the sweat running down the back of her neck. Maybe it was just because there had been rumor of another fight, a big one near Springfield, but she felt like she was being burned alive.Her heart was pounding as she neared the courthouse. She could see a crowd forming there. News had just made it to her father at the bank, who had sent word by one of the young boys who worked at the newspaper to go tell Cordia. Yet, already, there must have been close to fifty people standing around, staring at the courthouse door. Nothing was posted yet, and most likely nothing would be that day—nothing that really supplied any pertinent information. Nevertheless, Cordia did not have the best of feelings this time. Her stomach was tight, her palms sweaty, her heart raced, ready to burst out of her chest.
After Mr. Ward read the telegraph from his cousin, Cordia’s father tried to get her to go home, but she insisted on staying. She watched as Mr. Ward locked up the courthouse at 8:15. She watched as the crowd dispersed. She even watched as Julia rode away around 9:00. Finally, her father talked enough reason into her to get her to walk back home. She knew she wouldn’t sleep that night and that she would probably be one of the first people at the courthouse the next morning. If it had been up to her, she would have spent the night sleeping underneath that oak tree.As soon as there was enough light to see the brick sidewalk, Cordia was out the door, flying to the town square. As she approached the courthouse, she saw just a few other people standing outside. There was nothing new posted on the door. Her shoulders slumped as she went back to the same spot where she had spent the better portion of the day before, underneath the oak tree. She hadn’t figured on th
A few minutes after Cordia’s dad left the town square, Mr. Ward came out of the courthouse, though they could all see he had no papers in his hands. “All right,” he announced, “this is what I have done. I have telegraphed my cousin and asked him to go down to these hospitals he was speaking of yesterday and see if he can compile a list of the Barton County boys who are dead and wounded.” There were now close to one-hundred people standing around, and most of them were very happy to hear this news. “Now, I can’t promise he’ll get the message or be able to do it today, but I reckon that’s about all I can do at this time.”“There’s no other news?” someone shouted from the back of the crowd.“No, I’m afraid there ain’t been no news, nothing I didn’t already tell you about.” Mr. Ward confirmed. Then, he promptly turned around and went back into the courthouse.
The sky was like a painting, portraying the end of the world. Dark red at the horizon, lightening to pink and orange, before it finally spread into a thick yellow that covered the rest of the sky. Smoke billowed through the air, sometimes pervasive enough that simply breathing would make a person gag and choke. It seemed that not a single blade of grass could still be standing. The ground was thick with mud, small rivers flowing through it, the same color as that horizon. The stench of death and dying hung in curtains, wafting around on the breeze, churning stomachs, causing nostrils to flare. Standing here, one no longer needed to imagine what hell must be like.Cordia was picking her way through an endless sea of dead men’s bodies, piled to her knees and higher. She looked into the eyes of every single one of them. Sometimes, she had to turn them over to get a good look at their faces. Occasionally, parts of their corpses would stain her hands with blood, body tissue,
Cordia’s parents and Frieda were dumbfounded hearing her declare she was intending to drive into a war zone.“Cordia,” her mother was saying, “you can’t possibly be serious.” To look at her, however, they could tell that Cordia was definitely steadfast. She had already gotten two traveling gowns out of the closet and a bag for her essentials.“Cordia, calm down,” her father said, lightly grabbing her arm, in her mind causing a loss of precious time. “You can’t just go galloping off to Springfield in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be safe.”“I don’t care,” she insisted, shaking her arm free. “I’ll be fine. I know how to shoot a gun. I’ll take one with me. I am not going to sit here for one more minute waiting for someone to tell me that the man I love—or his cousin—is dead!” She turned around and flung open a drawer and began t