Chapter 14: Mounted Riflemen

Chapter 14 Mounted Riflemen

              “Yer out!”

            Cheers erupted from the crowd of spectators. The Country Boys had just defeated the Centerville Nine by a score of 3-2. They had finally learned to work together as a team and make the best of each player’s skills. There were Huzzahs all around and the opposing players rushed to congratulate their foes.

            The celebration was only muted by another contest that had happened a few weeks earlier in far-off Virginia. On July 21, 1861, over 60,000 soldiers clashed in the first major battle of the Civil War near Bull Run Creek in Virginia. The Union was so confident in victory that many residents of Washington, D.C., packed lunches and made their way into Virginia to watch the spectacle.

            The Battle of Bull Run, as it turned out, was nothing like the baseball games that young men were playing all over the North. They played with 50 caliber Minié balls. Catching one could mean losing life or limb. The rifles were lethal to 500 yards or more. Long lines of men faced each other and aimed to kill through the haze of powder smoke. Instead of running for bases, they often ran for cover.

            At first, it appeared Lincoln’s volunteers would get the best of the Rebels. The legion of spectators cheered the troops on. The tide turned when the Confederates brought in reinforcements. The Union line began to break. One by one, units fell back. Then panic set in. Men dropped their weapons and ran. Some ran right past the startled spectators who joined the rout. The fleeing army left everything behind, even their dead and wounded.

            The debacle at Bull Run convinced both sides that this was going to be a long, bloody war. Congress met and authorized Lincoln to enlist 500,000 more volunteers. These would not be 90-day men. The Congress gave Lincoln the power to recruit the men for 3 years. Men rushed to sign up as war fever raged.

            After the victory celebration, one of the players, Thomas J. Taylor, asked the men to stay to discuss preparations for war.

            “Men, you all know Lincoln has called for more volunteers. It will take a while to form all these new regiments. Meanwhile, our state is threatened by the Missouri State Guard of their ex-governor, Sterling Price. He’s said to be heading for Springfield to have a fight  with General Lyon’s Army. Even if he’s defeated, there are other Rebel militia groups not far from here.”

            “Now, a lot of folks in Missouri are pro-Union, and the state hasn’t joined the successionists.”

            “Yet!” someone shouted.

“So far, Missouri is showing a lot of sense. Most Missourians don’t have a horse in this race. The slaves are owned by a handful of big planters. They’ll stay with the Union if Lincoln convinces them their slaves aren’t threatened. It’s the outliers, like Price, who constitute a threat. He can mount his men and raid these parts at will. We need a force to meet him if, or when, he shows up.”

“So what are you proposing?” came a question from the crowd.

“We need to form our own militia unit, mounted men who can assemble and ride on a moment’s notice. We can guard our homes and crops until the new army gets better organized.”

“What about weapons?”

“We’ll have to supply our own for now. I’ll write the Governor and see if we can get some old Army muskets. If you have a musket, a rifle, or a pistol, bring it with you when we muster.”

“Mounted Riflemen? Do we need to have a horse?”

“For now, anyone without a horse can be in the Home Guard. Someone has to defend the town when the rest of us ride out. When we become part of the Army, I want to serve as cavalry. I’m sure Uncle Sam will provide us with decent mounts. For now, we’ll do the best we can with what we have.”

Reuben brooded as he listened to Taylor’s talk. He imagined Captain James Montgomery giving the same speech to the Jayhawkers of Linn County. All over America, North and South, men were rushing to fill the ranks of the armies that would shape America’s destiny. There was no turning back. A divided nation would slug it out until one side prevailed and the other gave up. He’d been there before. In Kansas, he had been forced to choose a side. This time, the stakes were bigger and the cause nobler. It was not about protecting his little place on Sugar Creek. The nation, his nation was in peril.

“Who will stand for the Union?” Taylor thundered.

“I will!” shouted Reuben, having raised his hand at the beginning of the question.

There was a chorus of ‘I wills’ and ‘Hear, hears.’ Men looked around, assuring themselves that they were not alone. There were no dissenters.

“Alright, you men. Go home and get your gear. We’ll meet at this field at 10 AM on Tuesday. Bring your friends if they are young and able. If any older men want to join up, they can serve in the Home Guard.”

“What was that all about?”  Margaret asked as Reuben helped his pregnant wife up to the seat of their wagon.

“We’re forming a company to defend ourselves.”

“Like Kansas?”

“Like Kansas. There is a chance that those old Missouri Ruffians will ride North to make trouble again.”

“Oh Lord. I thought we left all that behind in Kansas.”

“The trouble followed us home and spread to the whole country, or so it seems. We need to be ready for whatever comes our way. Most of the men want enlist in Lincoln’s new 500,000 man army.”

“FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND! Tell me you won’t have anything to do with that!”

I’m just joining a militia company. Chances are, we won’t stray far from Appanoose County. If the war gets much worse, I may have to reconsider.”

“Reuben! For God’s sake, we have 3 little children and another one on the way. You can’t leave us here and go strutting off to war.”

“Like I say, only if I have to. Papa will help around the place if it comes to that.”

“I need my husband at home!”

Reuben tried to change the subject for the rest of the ride home as Margaret sat fuming.

On Tuesday, Reuben saddled up early and rode to Centerville. When he arrived at the field, he found dozens of other men already there. They brought a motley assortment of antiquated firearms with them. Reuben carried his Sharps, his revolver, a blanket, and a change of clothes.

Captain Taylor’s first order of business was to establish a muster roll. Over sixty names were soon added. Then the men were assigned places to stay. The loyal citizens of Centerville offered up any extra rooms they could spare. Men were also billeted in stables and barns. The women of the town served them lunch. Finally, it was time to learn the rudiments of soldiering.

Taylor appointed squad leaders and lined the men up in columns behind them. The men looked around at the admiring faces of the townspeople as they formed up.

“Stand at attention and keep your eyes locked forward!” Taylor barked. “We are going to learn to march. When I say Forward March, step off with your right foot.”

“FORWARD…”

“Did I say march, Private Smythe?”

“Er.. No you didn’t Joe.”

“My name ain’t Joe, you idiot! I’m Captain Taylor. You will address me by my rank or as Sir. Understand?”

“Er.., yep J.., I mean Sir.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to get the men to march in step. It seemed a hopeless task. An old soldier from the Mexican War sat on a stool, laughing at the disorganized gaggle of men. By evening, some of them had learned the soldiery art of marching as Captain Taylor called cadence.

By the second day, Taylor had somehow acquired a copy of a company drill manual from 1835. He showed much more confidence as he began the day’s drill.

“Attention Company!”

The men looked up.

“Fall in!”

The men formed in two ragged rows.

“Count twos!”

The men counted off. “One, two, one two…”

“Right Face!”

Most of the men pivoted to the right.

“Your other right, Smythe!”

“In two ranks, Front!”

“Right, dress!”

The men looked confused.

“Stretch your right arm to touch the shoulder of the man next to you!”

Front!

The men faced forward. The commands were repeated for what seemed like half the morning. Finally, the men began to respond properly and in unison. By afternoon, they had learned Forward March, Column Left, and Column Right. Even the old-timer from the Mexican War was starting to show some appreciation.

The next day, Captain Taylor decided to drill the men with horses. Getting their mounts lined up was a challenge. Giving up, he decided to let the men have some fun demonstrating their martial skills on horseback.

He brought out an armload of laths and distributed the wooden sticks to the horsemen. A couple of men set up a scarecrow at the other end of the field. Each rider was directed to charge the scarecrow and swing his wooden “saber” at it. The scarecrow spooked most of the horses as they approached. The spectators joined the unmounted men with rounds of cheers and jeers as each rider tried his luck. Few of the mounted men successfully struck their prey.

The next task was to shoot a pistol while charging a target. The first rider’s shot went wild, nearly hitting some spectators. Taylor ordered them out of the way. The next rider’s horse threw him as he fired off a shot. Taylor decided to call it a day.

Contents: Unbowed: The Saga of a Civil War Cavalryman- Unbowed: The Saga of a Civil War Cavalryman-Index – Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies