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  • Lost Tribes AAR.

    Yeah, I had fun.

    This was the most elaborate event we have yet attempted at the Boonesfield site.

    Friday night began with the Federals not yet occupying the town and a number of "irregulars" hanging about. I was not particularly comfortable with their presence, especially as one none-to-bright but heavily armed fellow seemed to take a particular interest in me and my belongings. My character is no Lincolnite, but I found myself looking forward to the arrival of the Federals if for no other reason than the restoration of respect for the rule of law. My naiveity was considerable!!

    The Federals arrived Saturday morning and quickly rounded up the populace of Gray Summit and herded them in to a temporary hold yard. The women were soon relesed and ordered to their homes but the men continued their durance vile for another couple of hours. Finally we were herded into the grist mill where the real hard time got started. Thank goodness I had carried my banjo with me into captivity for it gave me something to occupy my mind and my hands. It was past 2 o'clock before I was finally led off to my interrogation, and almost 3 before I finally tasted the sweet nectar of freedom again. Needless to say my enthsiasm for the boys in blue was dampened.

    Things gradually got back on an even keel, although my living quarters had been taken over by our "liberators." We managed to cheer ourselves with entertainment and dancing in the evening, and no one went hungry as the fare at Captain Smith's Inn was delicious.

    Sunday morning brought our happy times to a swift and violent end. Our pastor made a somewhat ill-advised reference to a prayer given by Mr. Jefferson Davis, and the Federal troops replyed in a cruel fashion. He was led out behind the grist mill and shot.

    The Federals decamped soon after this and left our town. The ruffians immediately reappeared, in a rather darker mood than when we had seen them last. The men of the town were once again herded in to grist mill, and after releasing the Sherriff and a vagabond, they informed us we were to be shot. The ruffian leader allowed me and my compatriot to sing one last song before "paroling us." We completed 2 verses of "Few Days" which seemed not to be of his liking for the end came soon after.
    [FONT="Book Antiqua"]Carl Anderton[/FONT]

    [FONT="Franklin Gothic Medium"][SIZE="2"]"A very good idea of the old style of playing may be formed by referring to the [I]Briggs Banjo Instructor."[/I][/SIZE][/FONT]
    [FONT="Palatino Linotype"][B]Albert Baur, Sgt., Co. A, 102nd Regiment, NY Volunteer Infantry.[/B][/FONT]

  • #2
    Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

    Adam Donaldson
    Drakesville, Iowa

    Dear Pap,

    I hope that this finds you well and that all at home are getting the harvest in. There are times when I wish that I was back helping get the corn in and working on the farm, and this is one of them. I'm sure that you've read that Price is back in Missouri causing trouble. Well they moved the 21st up from Memphis to help catch him, though I doubt that we will since his boys are mounted and we're all afoot and walking in his path.

    Two days ago we stopped in Gray Summit, the roads raising hail columbia on the boys. We advanced on the town about 9 o clock, with first section of first platoon as the advance. Once again your Son had to sit the hot seat while the short end of the company strolled the woods behind us. We moved through a pine wood, not knowing whether or not we'd find any bushwhackers. As we approached the village we heard some few shots which gave us Some concern, but there was nothing to them it seemed. Just before we got to the town we had to clear out a stone building on our left, which meant an extra bit of tension for no good reason. First section moved up and around the edge of town hiding by walls and trees. We could see some women gathered up to one side of the town, and a couple of men walking about, including one fellow with a shotgun and pistol on his hip. When the company was finally caught up to us, Lieutenant Hall had Hog, Myself and another fellow go and grab up the fellow with the shotgun, who turned out to be the sheriff, as well as the minister and another man, and hold them Arrested. Hog disarmed the Sheriff, and I took a knife from the Parson as well as one ugly looking big knife from the other fellow. Why a Parson was walking around with a knife on his hip I'll not try and guess, but there's more to tell of my adventures with the Parson later on. Another fellow walked out on a balcony over us, and I told him to go inside before I'd blow a cathole through him, but he did what he dang well pleased, and I didn't want to be fined for wasting a cartridge. Well the Company came up with the Captain, and first Section pushed the three men into the churchyard to hold them there, which was fine with me as this meant I didn't have to open no doors or push through a house and no one knowing what was waiting for me. the rest of the Company went about the town and cleaned up any body they found, bringing them all over to the Church, men and women alike. They were an ugly lot, looking perturbed at us for doing our jobs. After they took the folks over to the Church, the Officers seemed to get a little confused about what they wanted to do, so we herded them into the Church (some woman started ringing the bell, but we never did know who, but we knew she was signalling someone), and then we pulled them out of the Church again. Some Dutch lady started going on about Texas and going through this before, but that wasn't anything to me, as I was not from Texas, nor do I want anything to do with that God forsaken place. Finally we let the women go, but just as we did, well Hog got an idea into his head about shooting the bird off the church steeple. Hog was just damned mad about something the entire time we were in Gray Summit, and I don't blame him one bit the way we were treated. Of course he missed, but then Jefferson pulled a hog leg of a pistol out of nowhere and started playing Hail Columbia on the Dove too. He missed as well. My God, some boys could not hit their rear ends with either hand in this company. The lady who I think ran the Inn was upset about the boys checking through her place, but I tried to be nice and tell her we were just trying to be safe and didn't know what we'd find. The Women started to trickle out and go to their homes, but for some reason the Officers spent all morning talking to the men in town, probably trying to find on what Side of the question they lay and giving them paroles. I'm glad I didn't have to sit through that load of tales. Everyone kept talking about what they had to Suffer at someone else's hands, but that didn't sit too well with the Scotland County boys, as their folks back home have had to go through worse all along in this war and longer.

    First Section got shuffled off to do guard duty, and I didn't see anything but trees the entire time I stood my post, which I am glad for. Just when they pulled us off to rest, Holler came asking for volunteers to go on a patrol. You didn't raise any fool son, so I sat on my hands while Hog and some others went with him. It's a good thing I didn't go too, for the hills around here are more like mountains, and those boys had to billygoat up and down them a good bit. They ran into a bit of trouble while out, and we sat and listened to the shooting, hoping everyone would come back well, which they did. In the mean time I was able to go to the little store and get a newspaper, although a Peace Democrat one, as well as some other things. They did not have any pipes, which means your son is now without anything to smoke with. I know Mother would have liked that, but She's gone and I'm here and damned if I couldn't use a bowl right now. Holler kept borrowing my tobacco, but he was stingy with letting me smoke from his pipe, although he did every now and then.

    I spent the afternoon either on duty or trying to rest my feet. When we got off of the 8 oclock guard I tried to get to sleep pretty quick, as the late turn on guard meant I wouldn't get any sleep that night. Wouldn't it figure but First Platoon no more than got comfortable after dark and the criminal Bushwhackers started shooting at the guards posted near a bridge on the edge of town. At the first shot the boys in the Platoon jumped up and stood to their guns and went to the relief of the guard, and we had a bit of a hot scrape. The criminals were in a stubblefield, but the moon was so bright you could see their hats where they were trying to hide. Some fellows just are not bright, but what can you expect from outlaws. The captain even came out to the line with his brand new Spencer rifle he bought in St. Louis. The boys kept talking about that expensive popgun all the time, but I never got to see him use it. After that was all over, and someone said we lost a couple boys, first Platoon went into the Grist Mill to try and sleep, which was fine by me. Just as we were called for first call to go on the midnight to 4 oclock watch a man who said he owned the mill came up and told us to get out, which didn't seem to gentlemanly since we were making sure nothing happened to it, but there's not much better one can expect from these people down here. Guard went quietly again, the trees and bushes making no Rebellious attempts on my life, but the bottom fell out of the thermometer and it was cold, sir. I was relieved finally and went back to the cellar of another house to sleep.

    After a couple of hours of the usual chorus of snoring and the night exhalations I've come to expect from some of us, which felt like all night, the Second Sergeant came in and with revellee in the back ground told us to report for the guard with full marching order. The sergeant was out on another patrol, and the Lieutenant had Hog, Arch and I go out as a support, so I got to climb that hill after all. I Had to cross a crick a couple of times, so my dry feet were not anymore, and it was no sense in changing my socks either. We could hear them shooting every once in a while, and we finally found the patrol coming in a little strung out but none the worse for wear. At one point when we were looking I saw the flash of a face in the leaves, but that was the closest I got to seeing a real live Bushwhacker which bothers me not at all. The Sergeant even said that they found the camp of the criminals, and they had Pie! Us on hard crackers and salt beef, and someone in that town giving pie to the criminal element.

    As usual it was First Platoon's part to carry the load. Hog and I went on a post together and had a good chat. For some reason they moved us over to church to guard it when Service began, and I tell you, it was a good thing that they did. Hog and I walked a beat, one on each side of the Church, and you should have seen some of the looks that the people inside were giving me. Some were down right surly, and others looked away as soon as they saw me. We started muttering about firing the church and solving all of our problems with one swoop, so the Sergeant made a torch for a gag and walked by the windows, agitating them all the more. Lieutenant Hall was the only one who went to service, and he seemed to enjoy it until the Parson (I told you I'd get back to him) started preaching Jeff Davis and that trash. The lieutenant came out of the church and put on his gloves and told us to arrest the Parson when the service was over. I watched the back door to make sure that the Parson didn't pull a trick and slink away, but he came out the front door with the rest of them. Hog and I walked him over to the mill to jail him until the Captain could be found, and he kept talking to us about how we were evil men for doing what we did. No more than had we got over to the mill than the boys on Picket were fired upon, so the whole town and the Company were up in arms as to what to do. The Parson was irritating us more and more, and no one knew what was going on, so as the Captain walked by, we asked if we could take care of him, which I did. I walked the old Man out behind the Mill and put a ball through his back. Hog thought I didn't do a good enough job, so he did the same, getting some of the Gospel on me in the process. Everyone in the town thought Hog did it all himself, so I'll get no blame from anyone. I've got this to say though, because of me Tom Price will have one less vote for Governor of Missouri. The men in town started to get very agitated after what we did and gathered up in the church yard again, this time with their guns. It turned out that Hog's Uncle was the innkeeper, but there must not be any cool heads or kind blood in that family, as they were exchanging harsh words on both sides, and I think Hog was going to pull the company into shooting the men. Some fellow kept railing on and on about the Constitution, but his people had made a choice, or actually no choice at all it seemed, so we ignored him. Just in the nick of it the captain called to form the company, as the criminals had been repelled, or at least dealt with, we losing our musicians in the process, but that's neither here nor there. The Captain got us formed and took the company out of town and back on down the road. I for one was glad to shake the dust of that town off my feet. Now we're back after Price, but we'll just chase geese until he makes a stand or goes off with his tail between his legs.

    Please write soon. I heard through Someone else that Adam Junior was married last month, and I wish that I was told ahead of time, but as you don't like to write me for some reason, that's what I get. If you do feel like returning this letter, please see if you can get a good pipe in town and send it on to me. I hope all is well with the farm, and I'll post this when I get a chance.

    Your Son,

    James Donaldson
    Last edited by J. Donaldson; 10-05-2009, 03:37 PM. Reason: spelling error, wrong town
    Bob Welch

    The Eagle and The Journal
    My blog, following one Illinois community from Lincoln's election through the end of the Civil War through the articles originally printed in its two newspapers.

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

      First, I want to thank Silvana Siddali for inviting Patrick and I to Lost Tribes. The weather turned out to be much more pleasant than what was anticipated before arriving. My favorite part of the event was being able to stay in the neat old buildings on site. How lucky we were to be able to do that. Most site directors cringe at the thought of reenactors staying in preserved buildings, so this was very special!

      My “Aunt Silvana” and I were living in the stone building (Squire Boone Home) but once the federal army occupied the town, we were forced out. When the federal army gathered all of the civilians in the church, we were told that according to Martial Law, the army had to have permission to occupy a home. Well, we were booted out anyway. I believe it was because we were two women by ourselves. Perhaps if we had man with us, we would have kept our home. I got a giggle out of Silvana ringing the church bell once we were all gathered inside and thoroughly angered the Federals. She really stirred the pot by doing that! :wink_smil Miss Anna and Miss Sarah Belle (my cousins) were kind enough to take us in at the Sappington House not too far away. Unfortunately, the harassment didn’t end there! If it wasn’t those Federals causing problems, it was those “ruffian” bushwackers!

      Sunday was full of events. Some of the Federal soldiers were threatening to burn the church with the torch during the Sunday morning service. Reverend Cope had mixed politics and religion in his sermon and as a result he was taken out to the mill and shot for the whole town to witness. I’ll never forget when they were dragging him in ropes to the back of the mill and he cried out "Ladies! Help me! Help me!". Once the Federals had taken him to the back there was silence and two gun shots rang out. This was very disturbing for me because that was one of the more “realistic” moments of being a civilian in MO at that time.

      Later, more bushwackers had come into town, but were a bit more irate than the ones we had come across before. When they were rounding civilians up to the mill, Anna, Sarah Belle and I were dodging them behind buildings and fences in hopes that we would not be caught! (We were never caught)

      I also enjoyed placing faces with names and meeting wonderful people. The first person interactions in the village from Friday night until Sunday were phenomenal. I loved the black face Minstrel show Saturday night in the carpenters building! Very entertaining, you guys did a GREAT job!

      There are just too many “kewl” moments to keep listing. Pat and I really enjoyed ourselves this past weekend and Silvana deserves special thanks for all of her hard work! Lost Tribes would not have happened or had been so successful without her!

      Thanks again for having us and we hope to be invited back.

      …….on to Bummers!!!:baring_te
      Elizabeth Landrum
      IR Team Mom

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

        Thumbing through this lost tribes folder, I've not seen any link to show what the buildings are like. Would someone tell me where to look to see what the park buildings are like, and who furnished them?
        Mfr,
        Judith Peebles.
        No Wooden Nutmegs Sold Here.
        [B]Books![B][/B][/B] The Original Search Engine.

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

          Here is a link to a site showing a picture of the buildings and a little more information. http://www.geocities.com/athens/part...onesfield.html

          This site will give you more information about their ownership. http://www.lindenwood.edu/boone/
          Dan Hill
          New Madrid Guards
          "The education of a man is never completed until he dies." Robert E. Lee


          Marmaduke's Raid 2008
          Lost Tribes 2009
          Bummers 2009
          Twin Rivers - Co A. 44th Indiana - 2010
          Camp Jackson - 2011
          Morning Sun - 2012
          Vicksburg is the Key - 1st-4th Consolidated Missouri Inf. - 2013
          Chickamauga 150 - 2013
          Tennessee on the Brink - 2014
          Pilot Knob - 14th MO CS - 2014
          Franklin - Co. A 44th Missouri Inf. US - 2014
          Helena - 33rd Missouri US - 2015
          Fort Blakeley - 2017
          Corinth Living History - 6th Missouri Infantry- 2018
          The Assault on Fort Blakeley - 1st/3rd MO Dismounted Inf. - 2019
          Missouri 1861 - MMFF - 2019

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

            I must say, reading the perspective of the Partisans is instructive. As a lowly private, it seemed that you all were lurking behind every building, tree, shrub, stone or tall weed during the weekend and doubly so at night. One of the most intense moments for me was on Saturday when myself, and two others accompanied Lt. Wickett to give cover to 1st platoon's returning patrol. I found myself in a duel with a lone bushwacker at a range of about ten yards, his pistols barked, the balls hummed past my head, and I discharged my musket. It then appeared to me that he was attempting to reload his pistol, so I hastily charged upon him. He raised his pistol. My musket was empty, and I had foolishly not fixed my bayonet. I raised my hands and stared. He said: "if you go your way, I'll go mine." I nodded. As he backed away, I noticed the hammer of his pistol was not cocked, perhaps it was empty? Still too shocked to attempt to subdue him, I stood stock still as he retreated. "There's a pistol over there," he said as he motioned to the ground a few feet away, and then vamoosed. I wanderd over where he had pointed, and found an empty Colt Army which had seen some rough service. I stuck the parting gift from the partisan in my belt and rejoined the company, wiser. If that bushwhacker reads this, I have one question: was your pistol as empty as my musket?

            Great event. Quite a chilly guard mount on Saturday though.
            Yours, &c
            Adam Clark
            -Pumpkin Patch Mess

            "I really feel that we've stepped into our ancestor's shoes, but... those shoes suck."
            Connor Clune

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

              I've been thinking about the event all day, and how to write this AAR. I'm not sure if words can really describe the event at Lost Tribes.

              I arrived on site some what reluctant to be a federal, let alone portraying a 2nd Sgt for a group of guys that I didn't know. I sat back and watched the boys roll in car after car, and I would spot the occasional friend, jokes exchanged and the event was a start. I met some folks I have yet to meet before, and have a very high respect for the Hairy Nation Boys. I count Holler as a friend, and consider that group one of the best in the field.

              Thanks Holler and Silvana for the invitation, and look forward to future events to come. This was one of, if not THE BEST, event I have ever attended.
              Patrick Landrum
              Independent Rifles

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                One of the things I love best about these events is the chance to visit with friends and make new ones. I thoroughly enjoyed being dear Lizzie's Aunt and Cuffie's mother. Liz, you were fantastic company. Anna, Brandi, Forrest, Cuffie, Liz, and Carl, what a great family you are!

                For me, what I love most about the village is the feeling of a tightly knit, affectionate community, and the ready acceptance of all newcomers. I hope everyone felt welcome and immediately a part of things.

                I don't have too much to add to these well-written AAR's, so I'll only add the bits that had to be kept secret.

                First of all, the whole village has been thinking that my late husband Luke Siddall died in a drunken fall from a wagon. It's been mortifying to me to allow people to gossip about this, when the truth is that he rode with Anders (Jay Stevens) and his men for two years and was shot in action. Anders' band are like brothers to me. They protected me in my late husband's memory, so I felt I had to repay their kindness and respect. My cousin Carl Anderton was not pleased about this, but I felt compelled to house and feed them on their first night in the village. Carl thought this was foolhardy beyond belief. He may have been partly right because they were a little careless the following morning upon leaving my house. They were seen standing around in the front yard (I never found out by whom) and as a result my niece, my son and I were evicted from our house when the U. S. Army marched in.

                No, we were not asked for permission.

                When the village residents were herded like cattle into the church, I felt compelled to ring the bell because that was a signal to Anders and his men to stay away. I knew I was endangering some of my fellow citizens by doing so, but I owe loyalty to my late husband's friends. It was a difficult decision.

                My family and I were taken in by my wealthy young nieces, Anna and Sarah Allen, who live in the fine mansion up on the hill. They made us as comfortable as possible and never allowed us to feel the difference in our worldly station.

                On Saturday, Anders and his men visited us in the fine house, where we feasted them on chicken stew and apple pie. In their company were two Rebel Deserters. I knew one of them well, and felt very sorry for him because his house had been destroyed and his wife and children had fled to St. Clair. I never learned whether he found them.

                The events on Sunday have been described elsewhere. I do just want to add one thing. We know who shot our dear Pastor. There will be a trial. The judge has already been summoned. The jury is ready.

                The trial will be held on May 14-16, 1865 (read: 2009 in Boonesfield.) I hope you will all be prepared to give your testimony.
                [FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="3"]Silvana R. Siddali[/SIZE][/FONT]
                [URL="http://starofthewestsociety.googlepages.com/home"][FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="3"]Star of the West Society[/SIZE][/FONT][/URL][B]
                [COLOR="DarkRed"]Cherry Bounce G'hal[/B][/COLOR]:wink_smil

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                  Best event yet at Boonesfield! Certainly the most intense, and, were you
                  lucky enough to be in First Section of the First Platoon of the 21st, one
                  of the busiest ~ in one of our 4 hour rotations, we were standing a Post
                  or chasing bushwackers for all but about 15 minutes, and in that time
                  myself and the company clerk were getting a fire going where we could
                  cook and make coffee (which never happened; it was a durn good thing
                  I cooked my salted beef right off, cause that and some apples and
                  crackers was most of what I ate. Section one came back to the
                  Reserve Sunday morning to find our breakfast of beans had been
                  dumped in the fire, and we had to dig our breakfast out of the ashes.
                  We made do, with some small grumbling.)
                  Great moments:
                  I was at Post One (outside the door of the building
                  we had taken over as headquarters) when three ladies approached;
                  I stood in front of the door and called forth Captain Fleming. Seemed
                  someone had been impersonating a Lt., causing commotion and great
                  consternation among the womenfolk. When Capt. Fleming asked
                  Silvana if she could describe this man, she said he had a "rather
                  vacant look on his face." (It took all the self-control I had not to howl
                  with laughter ~ she had Double-D there, to a T!!)
                  After this, I was present, about to relieve Eric from his post (guarding
                  the selfsame Double-D), when Sgt. Holler came into the mill like a
                  runaway train, rolling up his sleeves, with Hellfire in his demeanor,
                  and lit into the miscreant with a vengeance! We grabbed the Sgt. and
                  held him back sos he would not kill the lad, who was some cowed by
                  the beating.
                  The patrol Saturday, Section 1 and a few others who joined in ~ the
                  hill was almost impassable, with brambles, felled trees like giant
                  abatis, loose rocks in the washes. We got to the top and then
                  swung right, going downhill, until we could go no further due to
                  a sheer drop of some 20 feet ~ we turned to go back up the hill
                  and came under fire from below! Sgt. Holler knew we would be
                  boxed in sure, so we did the only thing we could, went further into
                  the woods and then down a wash, to the edge of a beanfield.
                  Across from us one scoundrel sauntered in and set on a stump,
                  never seeing us. We talked in hushed tones, figured there was
                  only one or two fellers ~ Sgt. says rush 'em, now, which we
                  did, and came under fire from the whole bunch! We chased
                  'em out, with a few boys felled by buckshot, and found we had
                  help from across the stream. Waded back, but them fellers were
                  not done yet: one had a pistol leveled on a young boy in blue. I
                  yelled for him to lay it down, ramming for all I was worth (was
                  not sure then if I could reload 'fore he turned the pistol on me,
                  tried to bluster him with my cusses) when he run like a
                  rabbit. Our boy come out of there with his Enfield and a
                  pistol, seems the feller had been tryin' to bluster him with
                  a spent sidearm. Another victory for the Loyal Men of Missouri!

                  My one regret is that we were so busy being the 21st that
                  I never found time to get my image struck ~ this bespeaks
                  the quality of the event!
                  One last memory ~ when we bedded down on the hard, hard
                  floor of that cellar and dropped off to sleep, I drifted off with
                  the sound of giant Columbiads firing in rumbling volleys, and soon
                  added my battery to the cacophony!! My apologies to them
                  few fellers who did not snore. My friend Dan Barker was
                  posted just outside our closed door, and he said he has
                  never heard the like of First Platoon in full roar!

                  Many thanks to Boonesfield Village, the University, Silvana, Holler,
                  Capt. Fleming, Lt. Hall, Hog for all the superb amusement,
                  Tom Steele and all the other new friends I met, with a special
                  thanks to Brad Argue, best Crpl. a man can serve under. The
                  men of the 21st Missouri, Co I are indebted to you. I would also
                  like to thank Mr. Hicks for the "medication" you slipped me as
                  we were returning from patrol ~ it "cured" all that it promised to!
                  Your most obedient servant and comrade,
                  James C. Schumann
                  Mess #3
                  Old Northwest Volunteers

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                    I had a fantastic weekend. A big thank you to Silvana and Holler for organizing this event. My “sister” Anna and I spent the weekend up on the hill in the fabulous Sappington house. Thanks to Silvana for convincing Graddy to let us play in the house. The only regret was that we were quite far away from the rest of the village and didn’t get to interact with to many of you. Friday night Anna and I did a little performance of Shakespeare for our “family” and friends. After everyone left we were having a fantastic conversation about Shakespeare that was rudely interrupted by Anders and his men. Because our dear Aunt’s late husband rode with these men once upon a time, we hesitantly entertained them. Anders though quite arrogant was gentlemanly, though his men were a bit squirrely. (Amazing first person moments, thanks so much guys!!!) Thank God our cousin Carl and uncle Walter where there to protect us and defend our honor.
                    On Saturday morning I went to make breakfast and found that we had the majority of our food stolen by one of Ander’s men. So we had to go down to Mrs. Brenton’s to do our shopping and ended up being trapped there when the Federals came into town. After being bossed around by federal troops we were finally let go and were told to go home and stay there. When were arrived home we found our door had been forced open and left wide open. I found my drawings and personal papers had been rummaged through and scattered on my desk. Our dear Aunt and Cousin Lizzy were kicked out of their home by the federals and came to our home to find refuge. Being secessionist and friends with bushwhackers we were afraid to go into the village, so we spent quite a bit of time in our home doing our domestic duties. Saturday evening Ander’s men returned and we fed them chicken soup and apple pie. Those Federals didn’t seem to smart, we were known friends of Ander’s and his men and they never asked us questions or put a picket on our house. Though there was lone man who was impersonating an officer who did come up to the house while Anders and his men were there. But Aunt Silvana and I were able to get rid of him. He just came to harass us about having alcohol. He seems to be frightened by women though, because when I smiled and batted my eyes at him he started walking backwards and left. I don’t think he was very smart because he didn’t come into the house and investigate who the men in our house were. After dinner we went to the carpenter shop and enjoyed the fantastic show given by our cousins Kyle, Carl and uncle Walter. Thanks guys for putting the show together, it was great. After all of the excitement of the day we decided we were to tired for dancing and went back home and went to bed. During the middle of the night there was stomping on our porch and under the house. It seems that the federal troops spent the night under our house. We had to listen to them bang around and snore all night.

                    Sunday brought church and the murder of our poor pastor and the departure of the federal troops. Unfortunately it allowed a nasty band of men into town that rounded up all of the men and women in town. Fortunately Anna, Lizzy and I were able to hide behind a house and were left unmolested, though our cousin was murdered along with many of the men of the town.

                    Thanks to everyone who made this event great. A special thanks to Dan and Jay for being my after event heroes!
                    Brandi Jones

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                      Thanks to all who made this event possible! I had a great time. I would have liked to stay around a bit longer to meet some folks after the end of the event, but that was not possible. There were a lot of folks I've known on these fora that I met for the first time, and that was a real treat.

                      Abe, Lt. Hall, Holler, Landrum, all the Hairy Nation, and the ONV boys who made up the 21st MO are a class act. Between Piney Woods, Bentonville, and Lost Tribes, I've fallen in with some of you all three times now this year.

                      Mess'r Yearby: It was good to see you again, too!

                      "Into the Piney Woods... and out with spoiled ammunition"
                      One of the ONV folks (I recall not who) gave me two packages of cartridges for a Colt pocket 36. Well, at Piney Woods, I never fired a shot. So, I still had the two unopened packages in my officer's haversack. I used one to load-up my revolver on Saturday morning, caps and all. During the ill-fated attempt to capture a bushwacker out in the beanfield (nope, that wasn't Holler and Co. moving up to support us! :confused_ ), I never actually fired a shot. ...probably for the best. Before leaving the event, I went to clear my pistol... "Click, click, click, click, click". Evidently, the caps were all spoiled from Thursday night's deluge(s) during IPW, despite being in a rubberized haversack. :embaresse

                      Take Care, Folks!
                      John Wickett
                      Former Carpetbagger
                      Administrator (We got rules here! Be Nice - Sign Your Name - No Farbisms)

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                        I'd rank this event in the top 5 events of all-time! Thanks to Silvana and Vivian and others who worked at organizing this event!

                        It was great to be able to meet the Sorchys and help out at the local tavern. We had a great time, worked hard, and had great interaction!

                        Probably one of my favorite moments though was sitting in the church on Saturday and hearing that the town had been placed in martial law. Martial law meant (among other things) that the army couldn't enter buildings without permission of the owner. Well... later that evening, as Hank and I were walking toward our mill, we noticed that a lantern was burning in there. The army had occupied our mill.

                        My mantle, hood, and all our blankets and such were in the rear of the building and it was frigid. I was really looking forward to retrieving them and going to bed. Hank (A.K.A. Mr. Anderson) walked up to one of the soldiers and asked what was going on. He was told that they were bedded down. Hank asked if the town was still under martial law, and the answer was yes. He asked if they had permission of the owner to be bedding down in the mill. The answer was yes. When he asked who the owner was, the answer was that they didn't know, they were just following orders. So he told them to be prepared to move, and we walked up to the headquarters and a guard helped us get the captain. We spoke with the captain who assured assured us that the men would be out of the mill within 10-15 minutes, so we ventured off.

                        Returning about 15 minutes later, the men were still snoring away all around the mill sweep. So, off we went to find the officer in charge, again. We walked up to the house and banged on the door. The officers woke and told us that they thought the mill was an abandoned building because it wasn't all fixed up and in running order. Then they told us that they didn't know who owned the building, as there was no notice on the door. Um, anyone in town could have told them, and could have told them where to find us. Then they apologized and said they'd have the men out in 10-15 minutes, and they did. How cool is that, that we could make the army move!?!

                        It was so cool to be able to tell the army what to do and then watch them do it. Usually it's the civilians who get kicked out of buildings and forced to sleep on the cold damp ground. I can get used to this "martial law" stuff. :tounge_sm Having been kicked out of our home on numerous occasions at events, I did feel a slight bit of remorse throwing the reenactors out, but then again, it's all part of the game.

                        Linda.
                        Linda Trent
                        [email]linda_trent@att.net[/email]

                        “It ain’t what you know that gets you into trouble.
                        It’s what you know that just ain’t so.” Mark Twain.

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                          Count the journal entries below as my AAR, written through the eyes of my daughter, Abigail Waddoups.

                          Trish Hasenmueller

                          Mrs. Abigail Waddoups
                          Journal entries
                          October 3, 1864

                          In Gray Summit at this time, visiting my mum in MO. Got in yesterday after a long journey from London.
                          The trouble started as soon as we got in. We went to dinner and left my lady maid Elizabeth at the Engledew boarding house. When we returned, she was all flustered explaining how three men had terrorized through the house pushing her through our room and stealing four of our apples. The leader was apparently very distressed to see his house next year had burned down and his family gone. Later to learn they are alive and well in the next town. The other men with him had been drinking. Either way completely unnecessary to be so taunting. Two of the orphaned children were in the house and ran to hide. Took Elizabeth a while to find little Daisy, who hid herself in the privy behind the church. The men continued on to the Inn for dinner refusing to pay or work for their food. After we did some investigating and got Capt. Smiths story, mum and a group of us ladies found the sheriff and reported the men. We tried explaining it was not the money for the apples that we wanted, it was terrorizing Elizabeth, two ladies who were dressing upstairs, and scaring the children that we did not approve of. This morning the sheriff gave us three apples, they were not ours, but a nice gesture. We kept all doors to the Engledew locked last night as to have no more disturbances as we slept.
                          This morning we were advised they heard drums outside town and Yankees were close by. We walked to the Inn for breakfast. Just as we were finishing, gun shots were fired and Capt. Smith blew his whistle and we were rushed upstairs to their quarters for safety. When we thought it was safe again we continued on our way to the general store for a paper. Soon we were rushed inside and locked in as Mrs. Brenton turned the “Closed” sign. All the women inside and men standing outside.
                          From the store windows we watched in horror as the Union soldiers descended on the town from the hill at the Boone home. Our hearts sank as the town sheriff held his arms up surrendering. Soon all the men were gathered and taken hostage. Women were gathered next, both poor Marys from the Dress Shop which had been ransacked earlier in the morning. It is said the bushwackers and Union soldiers were to blame. The soldiers marched on to the Engledew and brought those children and women, including Elizabeth. Rufus, the brave boy, stuck his tongue out and shook his fist at the Yankees in defiance. We knew we were next and pointless to run and hide. The soldiers approached and asked nicely for us to unlock the door, Mrs. Brenton had no choice. We were escorted across the field to where the whole town was being held in the Chapel fence. Their only excuse for what they were doing to us was “securing the town.” Our towns men opened the Chapel to let the women and children inside away from the cool wind. The soldiers immediately came in and had us removed back outside, just to change their mind and return us to the shelter of the church. As we sat in the church uncertain of our future, I quickly told mum and Elizabeth to change our story if any soldier asks, we are not here to return mum to London with us, we came to visit because she had been ill. I was figuring I should be able to claim International immunity, but mum must be protected. The pastor began a prayer service and was interrupted by soldiers who read a new marshal law, Order Number One. The men had to swear to the Union Oath, while women and children were released to house arrest. As we were escorted to the Engledew home we 'baaed' like the sheep we walked past, in defiance to the union soldiers herding us their flock of sheep. We have been cooped up and got tired of sitting. After we saw others start to wander, Elizabeth and I went to the store to hand over goods for my mum to sell. I picked up our dishes from breakfast to have Elizabeth wash them. While the children waited to get some candy, a soldier came in and demanded we return home immediately. The other women challenged him and said Mrs. Brenton would go out of business if we did not shop, and asked for his superior officer. The man reported back that we were allowed to finish shopping and return back to our houses. As we left, there were two Yankees on the porch doing absolutely nothing. I did not see, but one of the men was starring at me and Elizabeth kicked rocks up at him. We managed to pass in peace.
                          It is currently one thirty and lunch has not been served. We have heard gun shots and watched the men march and change guards. A couple of ladies just ventured out again to walk the town, we wait on the porch sewing and gossiping and awaiting their return.


                          October 4, 1864

                          How to begin on such a tragic day. Yesterday afternoon was merely an inconvenience. The soldiers came by Engledew numerous times to search for any contraband, and found nothing every time. They had also released us women from house arrest but failed to tell us until hours later when we thought we were being defiant by going to the Inn to eat lunch. The men were held captive for five hours, or until they had signed the oath. I do believe a few townspeople were able to outsmart the soldiers and refused to sign, I know the pastor was one and the sheriff vouched for him. The law enforcement completely changed hands, and now the sheriff and his deputies are working with the Union.
                          The joy of last night is furthest from my mind, but will make this a happier entry. When evening came three of us remained in the Engledew house for our own feast. We were not trying to be anti-social, we just realized we were all vegetarians and chose to eat healthy as they were serving a meaty stew at the Inn. My company included Mrs. Engledew's daughter Kitsey, and our roommate Nancy. We combined our resources and had a lovely rice medley with apples and onions, potato crisps, and aged sharp cheddar from London. When the others returned we gathered our things for the minstrel show and dance at the Carpenter's shop. I had never seen a minstrel show but had heard of them, very different but entertaining.
                          We were squeezed in tightly as almost the whole town was there and even a few soldiers. I am assuming upper ranked officers. Every where we went there were soldiers standing guard, outside the house and in the field, and even in front of the chapel. When we were through eating Nancy and Kitsey tried giving the two soldiers behind Engledew what was left over. When they went out to offer it the soldiers were suspicious and asked them to stop several steps back from them and leave the pot on the ground. We are assuming that is because one of their comrades lift his post earlier and was punished with his arms tied spread out wide while they threw things at him. Or the two soldiers did not trust us sharing our food and thought we had poisoned it because it was returned and appeared that they did not eat any. On our way to the Menstural show Nancy gave the pot of rice to an officer on his way to the group of soldiers in the field. I do not condone what they are doing here but they were so hungry and it did not go to waist.
                          After the show, I got up and participated in the dancing. We had such fun with Nine Pin, The Virginia Reel, and The Spanish Waltz. Elizabeth asked for my permission to attend and of course I would not have thought of going without her. We all enjoyed the dancing, and grateful that Mrs. Brenton who was very fatigued was able to call the dances. It was good to see some Gray Summit townspeople in a happier time where they could almost forget their troubles and Yankees that surrounded them. As we walked back to our housing I realized I had had my galoshes on all night as I wanted to keep my feet warm before the change of venue from the covered bridge. I was wondering why everyone else was slipping from the candle wax dripping on the floor and I had not hit a slippery spot at all. I highly recommend wearing galoshes to dance on waxy floors.
                          Mrs. Brenton lodged in our room for the evening, she had not been sleeping well as a mouse had taken up residence in the Mercantile. The night before she had woken up to sniffing in her ear and a mouse playing with the tassel on her night cap. I had witnessed a mouse earlier in the day on the wall of the shop, a very brave and quick moving fellow. Why even when Mr. Harding accompanied her to fetch her sleeping things the mouse was holding his own dance on her counter. I do not blame her at all, as I would refuse to sleep with a known mouse about! When we got back to our room she and my mum gave me a gift they had been planning before my arrival. Mrs. Brenton had knitted a lovely blue and red Norwegian hood with gold ribbons to match my new wrapper. In return my mum is trading one of her handmade Greek casaques.
                          The morning started normal enough. Mum and I got dressed and made a stop by the photographer Mr. Ingram, as our afternoon the day prior was wasted in confinement to our home. I almost wanted to cause trouble and rebel myself, being a citizen of Great Britain, but alas stayed calm in order to protect my mother. I must say I did not disapprove or hold back my maid Elizabeth from voicing her opinions and being unruley. I rather enjoyed her mischief.
                          Mum and I had our image made and by the time we got the Inn for breakfast the church bells rang letting us know it was time for service so we are going hungry for now. During church I was unable to control my feelings as we sang Amazing Grace, a song my grandmother taught me as a child and having just lost her in February. Mum and Elizabeth were there to comfort me but we were all shaken to the unusual sights of soldiers surrounding the chapel glaring into the windows with bayonets in hand. The service barely went on as sighting were seen of someone who with a lit torch walked behind the chapel. Both men and women started to leave in fear as we stayed and tried to have a normal church service. Soldiers came to the door interrupting and the pastor ended his sermon short. No sooner had we walked out of the chapel, when soldiers arrested the pastor for reminding the citizens that the Confederate President Jefferson Davis had set October 16th as a day of fasting ans prayer. They took him behind the mill, and we heard shots. While the women were trying to think of some way to show our disapproval we were rushed back into our homes as shots were being fired. Elizabeth stopped to question a boy, Cuffie Sidal, who had signed the oath and took it away from him and burned it in the fire. Two musicians from the Union army were standing guard near by and started to hassle us, but while their backs were turned a bushwhacker popped up from the brush and shot them both. This is the closest we got to gunfire, and closer than we ever wanted to be. With dishes in hand we ran back to the Engledew. Mum and I had all but packed our belongings and were heading out of town. As we went to say goodbye to mum's closest friends and slip out of town, the Partisans were taking over and rumors of the townsmen being captured and taken to the mill. We looked back to see the mill burning, and I shutter to think if Gray Summit has any husbands or fathers left alive. I can only think we were no accusted as we made our way out of town because we were unsuspected with no proper male escorts with just Elizabeth, mum, and me. We are traveling to the closest train station until safe travel arrangements can be made back to London. How I long to be further on our journey back on one of my husbands blockade ships with England in sight. As this war has been going on too long and we offer a safer life for my mum in her new home overseas.

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                            Linda, I am very happy you and Hank stood your ground. Throwing us out of the Mill got us a nice spot in a much warmer house celler.
                            Respectfully,

                            Jeremy Bevard
                            Moderator
                            Civil War Digital Digest
                            Sally Port Mess

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Re: Lost Tribes AAR.

                              Thank you everyone who helped put this event together. And the participants who made us new comers feel so welcome. I had a wonderful time and am so appreciative of being invited to attend. It was definately the highlight of my reenacting "career".

                              Dutch Texas lady in the church.
                              Annette Bethke
                              Austin TX
                              Civil War Texas Civilian Living History
                              [URL="http://www.txcwcivilian.org"]www.txcwcivilian.org[/URL]

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