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[Illustration: FRANK JAMES.]
[Illustration: JESSE JAMES.]
NOTICE.--These portraits were engraved from late photographs,
obtained at some expense and danger; and having been copyrighted for
this book all persons are warned against using them elsewhere.
THE BORDER BANDITS.
AN AUTHENTIC AND THRILLING HISTORY OF
THE NOTED OUTLAWS,
JESSE AND FRANK JAMES,
And their Bands of Highwaymen.
COMPILED FROM RELIABLE SOURCES ONLY AND CONTAINING
THE LATEST FACTS IN REGARD TO THESE
DESPERATE FREEBOOTERS.
BY J. W. BUEL,
Author of "Life of Wild Bill the Scout," "Legends of the Ozarks,"
etc., etc., and Member of the Editorial Staff of the
Kansas City and St. Louis Press.
ILLUSTRATED WITH LATE PORTRAITS AND COLORED PLATES.
ST. LOUIS, MO.:
HISTORICAL PUBLISHING COMPANY.
1881.
Copyrighted, 1880, by DAN. LINAHAN.
Ryan, Jacks & Co., Printers,
ST. LOUIS.
PREFACE.
The career of Jesse and Frank James has been as checkered as the
sunlight that streams through a latticed window, and their crimes are
a commentary upon the development of intellectual America. No one can
afford to ignore the lesson which the lives of these outlaws teach,
and therefore a correct history of their desperate deeds becomes
necessary as a part of the country's annals, in juxtaposition with the
commendable heroism of our brightest characters. So many improbable
and romantic incidents have been credited to these noted brothers by
sensational writers; so many dashing escapades and hair-breadth escapes
attributed to them, which they never even dreamed of, that thinking
people, especially in the East, have begun, almost, to regard the James
Boys as a myth, and their deeds as creations of sensational dreamers.
It has been my purpose for more than three years to prepare a true
history of these noted outlaws, and during that time material has been
collecting which is now given to the public entirely free from fulsome
description or elaborated sensation. In the main essentials the James
Boys themselves will confirm the truthfulness of this narrative, which
has been written with a special regard for candor and indisputable
facts only.
During several years of the most exciting period in the career of these
noted bandits, I was engaged as reporter for the Kansas City press, and
not only became acquainted with many of their relatives and friends
who reside in that section, from whom were obtained numerous facts and
incidents never before published; but my duties as a journalist gave
me many excellent opportunities to learn the real truth in regard to
many of their most daring adventures, to one of which (the robbing of
the cash-box at the Kansas City Fair) I was an eye-witness. As time
unfolds the mysteries which have gathered around the names of these
desperate outlaws, it will be seen that this is the most faithful
history of their exploits that has ever been presented to the public.
J. W. B.
ST. LOUIS, December 15, 1880.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE.
PORTRAITS OF THE JAMES BROTHERS. Frontispiece.
After Centralia, 8
HANGING OF DR. SAMUELS, 10
Fleeing from Lawrence, 18
JESSE JAMES' RECEPTION, 38
Romantic Scenery near the Mysterious Cave, 44
Frank James' Combat with three Mexicans, 50
Recruiting after a Raid, 57
Hobbs Kerry watched by a Detective in a Gambling Den, 91
SHOOTING OF JESSE JAMES, 107
SETTLING AN OLD SCORE, 112
Frank James wins his Bride, 121
An Engineer who meant fight, 125
[Illustration: AFTER CENTRALIA.--see p. 27.]
THE BORDER BANDITS.
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
JESSE AND FRANK JAMES--THEIR YOUTH, 7
Career as Guerrillas, 9
First Skirmishes, 12
Desolation of Lawrence, 15
Desperate Fighting by Squads, 21
Direful Massacre at Centralia, 27
Fortune Turning Against the Guerrillas, 30
The Whirlwind of Destruction Changes, 31
Jesse James' Career in Texas, 33
Robbery and Murder, 36
Plundering a Kentucky Bank, 39
Bank Robbery and Murder, 41
Mysterious Hiding Place in Jackson Co., 43
Terrible Fight in Mexico, 47
Plundering an Iowa Bank, 51
Another Bank Robbery in Kentucky, 52
Robbing the Cash Box at the Kansas City Fair, 54
Plundering the Ste. Genevieve Bank, 56
Wrecking and Plundering a Train, 60
The Stage Robbery near Hot Springs, 63
Train Robbery at Gad's Hill, 66
Wicher's Unfortunate Hunt for the James Boys, 69
Murdering Cow Boys and Driving off Cattle, 73
The Attack on the Samuels Residence, 75
Assassination of Daniel Askew, 79
The San Antonio Stage Robbery, 81
The Great Train Robbery at Muncie, 83
The Huntington Bank Robbery, 86
The Rocky Cut Train Robbery, 87
Fatal Attack on a Minnesota Bank, 92
At Glendale--the Last Great Train Robbery, 96
Shooting of Jesse James by George Shepherd, 100
Why did Shepherd Shoot Jesse James? 109
Robbing of the Mammoth Cave Stage, 112
Personal Characteristics of the James Boys, 117
The Union Pacific Express Robbery, 122
An Interview with the Younger Brothers, 132
Anecdotes of Jesse and Frank James, 138
THE BORDER BANDITS.
JESSE AND FRANK JAMES.
THEIR YOUTH.
Strangely, and yet a not uncommon circumstance, Jesse and Frank James
were the sons of a respectable Kentucky minister of the Baptist
persuasion. Rev. Robt. James, "in the good old times," as he was wont
to call the early days of his ministry, was a great camp-meeting
exhorter, and many of the rock-ribbed hills of middle Kentucky have
been musical with the echoes of his strong voice. Like many other
pastoral exhorters and close communionists, the Rev. James was
illiterate so far as "book learning" was concerned, but his sincerity
was rarely debated. It has been asserted that he passed an academic
course at Georgetown College, but the records of that institution
show the name of no such person. Zerelda Cole, (the mother of the
noted outlaws,) was married to the Rev. Robert James in Scott county,
Kentucky, the same county in which Georgetown College is located; this
fact, added to the desire to heroize, to the largest possible extent,
the paternity of the James boys, is doubtless the reason for ascribing
to the father "a finished education and unusual ability."
"Like father, like son," is a very ancient oriental adage; but it
does not apply to Jesse and Frank James, though it is true that their
dispositions are due to maternal inheritance. In fact, the wife's
strength of will and uncompanionable traits of character resulted in
a final separation a few years after their removal to Clay county,
Missouri, in 1843. The Rev. James, in 1849, joined in the pilgrimage
to California, from whence he never returned; and, in 1857, Mrs.
James took another husband, in the person of Dr. Reuben Samuels. It
is quite unimportant to follow the domestic career of Mrs. James, now
Mrs. Samuels, and what has been related is merely for the purpose of
defining the inherited bent and inclination of the parents of the great
outlaws.
Jesse James was born in Clay county, Missouri, in 1845, while Frank's
nativity is Scott county, Kentucky, where he was born in 1841. At an
extremely early age they displayed traits of character which have ever
since distinguished them. Their hatreds were always bitter and their
cruelty remorseless.
They manifested especial delight in punishing dumb animals, which is
evidenced by their cutting off the tails and ears of dogs and cats,
burying small animals alive, and diversions of every kind which would
inflict the most grievous pains. Among other boys they were domineering
and cruel, and would rarely participate in innocent amusements. They
were never subjected to parental restraint and their youth was passed
in the most perfect indulgence. At the age of ten and fourteen years,
respectively, the boys were provided with fire-arms, in the use of
which they readily became proficient, and were no less expert in
throwing a bowie-knife which they could send quivering into a two-inch
sapling, at the space of fifteen feet, almost without fail.
THEIR CAREER AS GUERRILLAS.
When the tocsin of war sounded, and the feverish thrill of excitement
ran through the nation, boys though they were, Jesse and Frank James
were electrified with the ominous news and longed to participate in
the affray where human blood might be drawn until, like a fountain,
it would swell into a gory river. Soon the unmerciful Quantrell, that
terrible wraith of slaughter, came trooping through Missouri upon an
errand of destruction, and attracted to his banner many impetuous
youths of the West, among whom was Frank James; Jesse being the junior
brother, and but little more than fourteen years of age, was rejected
by Quantrell, and returned home to his farm labors with sorrow. But he
did not remain inactive. The family being intensely Southern in their
political predilections, all possible aid and sympathy were given
to Quantrell. Many dark nights Jesse would mount his best horse and
ride through the gloomy wilderness of Western Missouri until he gained
the guerrilla haunts, where he would deliver important information
concerning the movements of Federal troops.
The part played by Jesse and the open and decided expressions
frequently made by Dr. Samuels and his decidedly demonstrative wife,
greatly excited the Federal soldiers, and it was determined to make
an example of the family. Accordingly, in June, 1862, a company of
Missouri militia approached the Samuels' homestead, which is near
Kearney, in Clay county, and first meeting Dr. Samuels, they soon gave
him to understand that their visit was made for a purpose decidedly
unpleasant to him.
A strong rope was produced with which he was securely pinioned and then
led away from the house a distance of about one hundred yards. Here the
rope was fastened in a noose around his neck, while the other end was
thrown over the limb of a tree, and several men hastily drew him up
and left him suspended to choke to death. Mrs. Samuels, however, had
followed stealthily, and the moment the militia had departed she rushed
to the rescue of her husband, whom she hastily cut down, and by patient
nursing saved his life. The enraged troops decided also to hang Jesse
James, whom they found plowing in the field, but his youth saved him
from any other violence than a few cuffs and the production of a rope
with a suspicious noose which they threatened to ornament his neck with
if he again visited the guerrilla camp.
[Illustration: HANGING OF DR. SAMUELS.]
Instead of producing the desired effect, this act of the militia only
excited Jesse the more, and led him to deeds of graver importance.
He continued to communicate almost daily with Quantrell, which so
exasperated the militia that they paid a second visit to the Samuels'
residence, decided upon killing both Dr. Samuels and the daring Jesse.
When they reached the place, however, they found their intended victims
absent, but, determined not to return without some trophy of their
revengeful sortie, they took Mrs. Samuels and her daughter, Miss
Susie, captive, and carried them to St. Joseph, where they were kept
confined in jail for several weeks. This last act greatly inflamed
Jesse's passions, and he immediately mounted his horse and again rode
to Quantrell's camp, where, after detailing the particulars of this
last outrage, perhaps exaggerating the facts some in order to make his
appeal more effective, he begged the guerrilla commander to accept his
services as a private. So hard did he plead for permission to join the
ranks that marched under the shadow of the black flag, that at length
the barrier which his youth imposed was overlooked and the terrible
Quantrell oath was administered to him.
THE FIRST SKIRMISHES.
Up to this time the guerrillas had been engaged in but few skirmishes,
their services consisting chiefly in small foraging expeditions,
making themselves thoroughly acquainted with the topography of the
country preparatory to engaging in more effective measures. There was
a slight brush at Richfield, in which Captain Scott, with twelve of
Quantrell's men, surprised thirty militia whom they captured, after
killing ten, and in this attack Jesse James participated. Upon his
return to camp he was sent out with orders from Quantrell to scour the
counties adjoining Clay and locate the militia. After passing through
Clinton county he paid a short visit to his mother, who received him
with many manifestations of pleasure, and then began to unload herself
of the valuable information she had gathered for the benefit of the
guerrillas. She told him that the attack on Richfield had resulted in
massing the militia for a determined stroke, and that the troops were
concentrating near that point; that Plattsburg had been almost entirely
relieved of its garrison and would fall an easy prey to the guerrillas
if they chose to profit by the opportunity.
Jesse lost no time in communicating the situation to Quantrell, and,
accordingly, three days after the capture of the squad of militiamen
at Richfield, Captain Scott took fifteen men and silently stole upon
Plattsburg, which he found defended by less than a score of Federals,
under the command of a lieutenant. The guerrillas dashed into the town
about 3 P. M. (August 25th), yelling like a tribe of Comanche
Indians. The citizens fled into their houses with such fear that few
ventured to look into the streets even through key holes. The Federal
lieutenant chanced to be in the public square when the charge was made,
and Jesse James had the honor and credit of capturing him. The rest of
the militia gained the court-house, where it would have been impossible
to dislodge them, and to have attacked the building would have exposed
the guerrillas to the fire of the enemy. It was here that Jesse James'
strategy and military tact were first manifested. Turning his prisoner
(the lieutenant) over to Captain Scott, he said in a loud voice:
"Captain, there is no use parleying with these cut-throats; shoot
this fellow if he don't order his men in the court-house to surrender
immediately." Captain Scott replied that he would if the court-house
was not surrendered in two minutes. The result was that Plattsburg fell
into the hands of the guerrillas, who pillaged the town and gathered
booty, consisting of two hundred and fifty muskets, several hundred
rounds of ammunition, ten thousand dollars in Missouri warrants,
besides a large quantity of clothing, etc. The money was divided
among the participating guerrillas, each of whom received nearly one
thousand dollars in warrants besides clothing and other articles of
value. The guerrillas compelled the landlord of the principal hotel to
prepare them a good supper, to which they invited their prisoners, whom
they paroled; and after feasting until 9 o'clock P. M., they
withdrew to the cover of the forest.
After raiding Plattsburg, Quantrell broke camp and moved southward,
passing through Independence, and bivouaced near Lee's Summit. The
residents of that section suffered pitilessly from the sack and pillage
of both Federals and Confederates. They occupied a middle ground which
was subject to the incursions of both armies, and what was left after
the forage of the Union forces was remorselessly appropriated by the
guerrillas. There were skirmishes almost daily, and every highway was
red with human blood. The James boys, young as they were, became the
terror of the border; the crack of their pistols or the whirr of their
pirouetting bowies daily proclaimed the sacrifice of new victims. The
sanguinary harvest grew broader as the sickle of death was thrust in
to reap, and the little brooks and rivulets that had babbled merry
music for ages and laved the thirst of man and beast with their crystal
water, suddenly became tinged with a dye fresh from the fountain of
bitterest sorrow. And thus the days sped on heavy with desolation.
Quantrell and his followers were scarcely interrupted by the militia,
who never attacked them except at the price of terrible defeat,
until at length a direful scheme was proposed in which the desperate
character of these free riders was manifested in its blackest hues.
THE DESOLATION OF LAWRENCE.
Lawrence, Kansas, a thrifty town located on the Kaw river, was selected
by Quantrell as the place upon which to wreak a long-pent-up vengeance.
Sitting around the camp fire on the night of August 18th, 1863, the
chief of the black banner held a consultation with Frank and Jesse
James, the Younger boys, the Shepherd brothers, and others of his most
daring followers, as to the next advisable move upon a place which
would furnish the best inducements for their peculiar mode of war.
There was a concert of opinion that Lawrence was the most available
place. The point having been selected, Quantrell did not neglect to
inform his followers of the danger such an undertaking involved; that
their road would be infested with militia, the forces of which would
be daily augmented when the first intimation of the purposes of the
guerrillas should be made known; that it would be ceaseless fighting
and countless hardships, and many would be left upon the prairies to
fester in the sun. He then called his command to arms and acquainted
every man with the decision in the following speech: "Fellow soldiers,
a consultation just held with several of my comrades has resulted in a
decision that we break camp to-morrow and take up a line of march for
Lawrence, Kansas; that we attack that town and, if pressed too hard,
lay it in ashes. This undertaking, let me assure you, is hazardous
in the extreme. The territory through which we must pass is full of
enemies, and the entire way will be beset by well armed men through
whom it will be necessary for us to carve our way. I know full well
that there is not a man in my command who fears a foe; that no braver
force ever existed than it is my honor to lead, but you have never
encountered danger so great as we will have to meet on our way to
Lawrence; therefore let me say to you, without doubting in the least
your heroism, if there are any in my command who would prefer not to
stake their lives in such a dangerous attempt, let them step outside
the ranks."
At the conclusion of Quantrell's remarks a shout went up from every
man, "On to Lawrence!" Not a face blanched, but on the other hand there
was but one desire, to lay waste the city on the Kaw.
On the following day the order was given to "mount," and with that
dreadfully black flag streaming over their heads the command, two
hundred strong, turned their faces to the west. As they crossed the
Kansas line at the small town of Aubrey, in Johnson county, Quantrell
compelled three men, whom he found sitting in front of a small store
kept by John Beeson, to accompany him as guides. The command passed
through Johnson county midway between Olathe and Spring Hill, and
through the northern part of Franklin county. When they reached Cole
creek, eight miles from Lawrence, the three guides were taken into a
clump of thick woods and shot by Jesse and Frank James. One of the
party, an elderly man, begged piteously to be spared, reminding his
executioners that he had never done them any wrong, but his prayers for
mercy ended in the death rattle as a bullet went crashing through his
neck.
Quantrell had been agreeably mistaken concerning the resistance he
expected to encounter. Not a foe had yet appeared, but he never
permitted a person to pass him alive. No less than twenty-five persons
whom he met in the highway, after getting into Kansas, had been shot,
and yet he avoided the public roads as much as possible.
Early in the morning of August 21st Quantrell and his band came
in sight of the fated town. The sun was just straggling above the
undulations of the prairie and the people of the place were beginning
to resume the duties of a newly-born day. With a cry which froze the
blood of every one in the town who heard it, Quantrell and his two
hundred followers descended upon the place with pistol, sword and
firebrand.
[Illustration: FLEEING FROM LAWRENCE.]
The prime object of the guerrillas was to capture Gen. Jim Lane,
who resided at Lawrence, and retaliate upon him for the burning and
sacking of Osceola, Mo., which had been accomplished by men under his
command. But Lane fled on the first alarm, and concealed himself in an
adjacent cornfield. Foiled in their desire to capture him, the enraged
guerrillas turned their vengeance loose upon the ill-fated town,
killing every man who came within range of their deadly revolvers.
Quantrell's orders were to kill all the men, but to spare the women and
children. By accident, however,--possibly by design of some drunken
privates--several women and children were shot; and this fact was
made use of in subsequent reports of the affair to greatly exaggerate
its barbarous details. It was certainly sufficiently inexcusable and
barbarous without exaggeration. The torch was applied to the light
frame buildings as the killing progressed, and the beautiful little
city was soon enveloped in a sheet of flames. Stores and saloons were
broken into and robbed of their contents, and the guerrilla band soon
became a howling mob of drunken madmen. The dreadful harvest of death
and destruction lasted nearly all day, and when the guerrillas took
up their line of retreat toward the borders of Missouri, the city of
Lawrence had disappeared from the face of the earth. In this affair
Jesse James is said to have killed thirty men and Frank thirty-five.
They seemed to take a sort of devilish pride in numbering their
victims.
Quantrell and his men hastily retraced their steps, but they were
terribly harassed during the entire return march by the Kansas militia
and Federal troops that hurriedly concentrated and went in pursuit
of them. This force has been reliably estimated at fully seven
thousand, and nothing but hard marching, determined fighting, and an
endurance that has never been equalled saved the guerrillas from total
destruction. At Black Jack, about fifteen miles from Lawrence, a stand
was made and some brisk fighting occurred. The guerrillas took to
cover in a large barn which stood at the edge of an orchard. Several
assaults were made to dislodge them but in vain. The horses of the
guerrillas were suffering severely, however, and realizing that without
horses they would be unable to get out of Kansas, the guerrillas made a
desperate charge in which thirty-two of the militia were killed and a
panic was the result. But the guerrillas did not care to follow up the
victory, as every moment was precious. The militia were swarming and
closing in upon them rapidly, and it was only by the rarest stroke of
fortune that Quantrell and his men ever escaped from Kansas; this rare
fortune was due entirely to the unparalleled cowardice of three hundred
well armed and mounted men who had been organized into a militia force
near Spring Hill, Kansas. These men exhibited remarkable bravery until
the enemy appeared in sight, when they immediately retreated and
never halted until they were ten miles from the place where they saw
Quantrell. Had they engaged the enemy, which was one-third less in
number, besides badly fatigued, they could either have beaten Quantrell
or held him at bay until enough reinforcements were received to have
annihilated every one of the guerrilla band.
It was a continual fight, however, and as Quantrell predicted, many of
his followers were left dead and unburied on the hot prairies, where
they became the prey of carrion birds. At Shawnee, in the northern part
of Johnson county, the last stand was made, but the fight lasted only
a few minutes, for the guerrillas, appreciating the critical position
they occupied, with nearly five thousand militia gradually surrounding
them, in the manner of early settlers who join in general hunts for the
destruction of obnoxious wild animals, Quantrell soon ordered a charge
and retreat. After breaking through the lines the guerrillas disbanded
and each one then considered alone his own safety; this rendered a
general pursuit impossible, and with a total loss of twenty-one men the
bands reached the coverts of Jackson and Clay counties, where they were
comparatively safe.
DESPERATE FIGHTING BY SQUADS.
After spending a month in apparent leisure, during which time Jesse and
Frank James were frequent night visitors to their old home, Quantrell
again called his command together for the purpose of resuming active
hostilities, but he changed his tactics and added new terrors to the
border counties of Missouri. The command was divided into squads of
twenty and thirty, by which means they could make bold dashes at
various points almost simultaneously and so confuse their enemies as
to make pursuit futile. Indeed this peculiar and remorseless warfare
gave rise to the strange superstition that Quantrell was some spirit of
darkness who could transport himself and troops from place to place in
the twinkle of an eye. He became no less dreaded by the Federal troops
than by Union citizens, and day and night non-combatants as well as
armed militiamen fell victims to the terrible guerrillas.
In the early part of October, Jesse James, in charge of a squad of
twenty-five men, learning of the movements of a company of Federal
cavalry under command of Capt. Ransom, who was marching toward Pleasant
Hill, made a rapid detour and flanked the Federals five miles north
of Blue Springs. Jesse selected a place near the road which was well
screened by a dense thicket; here he stationed his men, and when the
Federals came riding leisurely by, unconscious of any lurking danger,
suddenly a storm of bullets poured upon them from the thicket and men
fell like leaves in an autumn gust. The entire company was immediately
thrown into the greatest confusion. The youthful commander of the
guerrillas made the most of his advantage and ordered a dash into the
confused and stricken ranks of the enemy, which he shot down with
as little resistance as is offered by dumb animals. The havoc was
terrible, for out of nearly one hundred Federals less than one-third
the number escaped, while the loss of the guerrillas was only one
killed and three slightly wounded.
On the following day another squad of Quantrell's men ambushed a body
of militia who were returning from a forage in Lafayette county, and
mercilessly annihilated nearly every one of the unfortunate command.
One week later Frank and Jesse James, with fifty men, suddenly appeared
in Bourbon county, Kansas, five miles south of Fort Scott, and swooped
down upon Capt. Blunt and his company of seventy-five mounted infantry,
and with a yell of rage and triumph swept with deathly missiles the
astonished Federals, leaving forty of them to bleach in autumn rains.
The next attack was upon Lieut. Nash's command, three miles west of
Warrensburg, Missouri, which was surprised by the guerrillas and cut
to pieces. Following close upon this came the furious desolation of
Camden. This little town was garrisoned by a small company of Federals,
who, upon the day in question, were in the midst of bachanalian revels
and unable to offer any resistance. This fight was a slaughter, in
which the drunken soldiers were shot down without compunction, and
the riot of murder was a pastime of sport for the guerrillas. After
completing the harvest of death the town was pillaged and fired, and
when the guerrillas rode out of the place they left its ruins in charge
of the dead.
Another squad, under command of George Todd, suddenly encountered the
Second Colorado cavalry, under command of Capt. Wagner, and a desperate
fight ensued. The Colorado troops understood guerrilla warfare, and
Wagner was as brave a man as ever mustered a company. The guerrillas
made a furious charge, but the onslaught was met with such resistance
that the opposing forces mingled together in a hand-to-hand contest.
The fight was terrible, the rattle of revolvers being at times almost
drowned by the clash of sabers. Jesse James fought like a hungry tiger,
and his death-dealing pistol made terrible inroads among his foes.
Singling out the Captain, who was fighting with wonderful desperation,
Jesse rode by him at a furious pace, and, discharging his pistol with
remarkable accuracy, he sent a bullet through the brave Captain's
heart. This act sent consternation through the ranks of the Colorado
troops, and a retreat, in confusion, was soon begun. Those that were
wounded received no mercy at the hands of the guerrillas, but were shot
or put to the sword and then left unburied.
Every attack made by the guerrillas added new terrors to the
neighborhood; there was a concentrating of militia at every available
point and a thousand schemes proposed by which to surprise and bring to
punishment the desperate band; but the guerrillas were kept thoroughly
posted and continued their reckless mode of warfare with varying
success.
In the early part of 1864 Frank James was sent out by Bill Anderson
to locate and number the Federal force at Harrisonville. The duty was
fraught with much peril, but it was danger the James Boys courted as
the spice of existence. He rode straight for the town, until within
sight of the picket lines. He then hitched his horse in the closest
thicket he could find, after which he approached with great care, and
at night succeeded in passing the pickets. Very soon after reaching the
outskirts of Harrisonville he met a negro from whom he obtained what
information he desired and then crept back again through the lines and
mounted his horse. At this juncture he was spied by two of the picket
guards, who commanded him to halt. The reply came from his pistol,
and though the night was without moonshine he sent a bullet through
the brain of one, and another shot tore through the body of the other
picket. The camp was speedily in arms but Frank rode rapidly out of
harm and delivered the information he had gained with such risk to
Anderson.
On the second day thereafter the plan of attack on Harrisonville was
consummated and a hard fought battle was the consequence, but the
guerrillas were forced to retire, and they turned their attention to
a company of Federal volunteers who were encamped on Grand river at
Flat Rock Ford. These they attacked with determined fierceness, but
they were met with equal force and were again compelled to retreat. In
this fight Jesse James was badly wounded, a musket ball having passed
through his breast, tearing away a large portion of his left lung and
knocking him from his horse. Notwithstanding the rain of bullets, Arch
Clements and John Jarrette rode back, and gathering up their wounded
comrade they bore him to the house of Capt. John M. Rudd, where for
several days his death was hourly expected. Careful nursing and the
best surgical skill, however, saved his life, and in one month's time
he was able to resume the saddle, and in six weeks he again went on
active duty.
On the 16th of September, 1864, Jesse James concluded to pay another
visit to his mother, but the road thence was beset with a thousand
dangers which very few men could be induced to encounter. During
the ride he came suddenly upon three uniformed militia, who ordered
him to halt, but instead of obeying the summons he whipped out two
pistols and in a moment the three men were struggling in the throes
of death. Jesse met with no other adventure on the journey, and
after spending two days with his mother returned to the camp of the
guerrillas. Immediately upon his return he was informed of the plans
conceived during his absence, of attacking Fayette, Missouri. On the
20th the attack was made, and charge after charge, with all the force
the guerrillas could command, was hurled against the stockades which
protected the Federals, but every onslaught was firmly met and left
a trail of dead and wounded guerrillas. Lee McMurtry, one of the
bravest of Anderson's forces, fell dreadfully wounded directly under
the Federal parapets. Jesse James was an intimate comrade of McMurtry
and he determined to rescue his friend. What a nature is that which
can rush up to the very blazing muzzles of deadly rifles to drag away
a wounded friend! But Jesse James seemed to court death without the
ability to win it. He braved that lurid stream of fatal fire and drew
away the gasping form of his friend, and yet escaped unscathed. This
battle also resulted adversely to the guerrillas, and they were driven
with great loss from Fayette. Leaving this place they rode west again
and went into camp near Wellington.
DIREFUL MASSACRE AT CENTRALIA.
Quantrell continued to direct the movements of the guerrilla bands,
but he was rarely engaged in any of the battles; the active service
he delegated to the most strategical and unmerciful members of his
command. Bill Anderson, a human tiger in disposition, was placed in
charge of the full force when it was decided to move upon Centralia, a
small town in Boone county, on the Wabash, St. Louis & Pacific Railway.
On the 27th of September, one week after the attack on Fayette, the
guerrillas, numbering one hundred and fifty men, headed by Anderson
and that most ominous of banners, the black flag, with skull and
cross-bones, marched upon Centralia, which they took possession of
without resistance. After pillaging the place the guerrillas took up
their station at the depot and awaited the coming of the train. They
had not long to wait, for soon the shrill whistle of the engine, as it
came thundering through a cut, drawing five passenger coaches loaded
with soldiers and citizen travelers, announced the coming of the prize.
The moment the train stopped the dreadful black flag was flung out and
with the exchange of a few shots the messengers of death boarded the
cars. Everyone on the train was ordered out and made to form in line,
after which the thirty-two soldiers were separated from the other
passengers and all disarmed. Now the breathless suspense, the terrible
forebodings and the anxiety as to the fate that would be meted out
to them! Every soldier was shot as unmercifully as if they had been
obnoxious beasts or poisonous snakes. The passengers were relieved of
whatever valuables they possessed, after which they were permitted to
proceed on their journey.
In the afternoon of the same day and before the guerrillas had departed
from Centralia, a body of Iowa volunteers, one hundred strong, under
the command of Major J. H. Johnson, rode into the town and in the space
of a few hours the two forces met and engaged in a terrible conflict.
Again Jesse James, who was the best pistol shot in the guerrilla
service, made a furious dash at Major Johnson and planted a pistol ball
almost in the center of the brave Major's forehead. The guerrillas now
rushed upon the terrorized volunteers with such resistless impetuosity
that they broke in confusion. The fight became a massacre, and but very
few of the brave volunteers escaped to convey to anxious friends the
dreadful fate that had befallen their comrades. One of the militiamen
had a very remarkable escape. Being badly wounded, in the early part
of the fight, he remained unconscious, with the blood streaming from a
saber gash in his head, until the foe had departed. When the fight was
over the guerrillas went among the wounded and shot them with their
revolvers, determined that not a soldier should escape. This single
exception to the consummation of guerrilla vengeance was supposed to
be dead, and he therefore escaped the crowning feature of that day's
massacre. When consciousness was regained he found himself alone,
among the dead bodies of his comrades, and his shouts for help brought
to his assistance the services of a kind old negro woman who took him
to her house and obtained surgical aid, so that in two week's time he
was able to return home.
The result of the fight at Centralia was not such as brought great
encouragement to the guerrillas; the victory they gained was at the
cost of nearly fifty of their number, whom it would be impossible to
replace, because men of their bold, reckless and desperate character
are rarely to be found. It was therefore determined to again divide up
into squads and renew the warfare which they had waged so successfully
in the previous year. But the guerrillas never fought again as they
had at Fayette and Harrisonville; their courage to meet an armed force
seemed to have vanished.
FORTUNE TURNING AGAINST THE GUERRILLAS.
The numerous and desperate deeds of the guerrillas received the earnest
condemnation of the Confederate forces and for a time it was seriously
considered, by many of the most distinguished Confederate officers,
advisable to unite in the effort to rid Missouri of this terrible
scourge. But their career was rapidly culminating. In attempting
to cross the Missouri river in Howard county, a detachment of the
guerrillas, headed by Bill Anderson, was attacked by a force of
Federals under Montgomery, and in the fight which ensued Anderson and
five of his men were killed, while the others escaped to the hills.
They were again surprised while in camp on the Blackwater and several
more were killed, and Jesse James was badly wounded in the leg, besides
having his horse killed under him. In another fight which followed soon
after, on Sugar creek, George Todd, one of the most daring and shrewd
of Quantrell's old comrades, was shot to the death, and in the latter
part of 1864, in order to save themselves from capture or annihilation,
the guerrillas concluded to disband finally. Jesse James joined his
fortunes with George Shepherd and went to Texas, while Frank James
followed Quantrell to Kentucky.
THE WHIRLWIND OF DESTRUCTION CHANGES.
In January, 1865, Quantrell collected together nearly fifty of his
old followers, among whom was Frank James, and started for the hills
of Kentucky, where he expected to continue his warfare. Their route
lay south-east, and before they got out of Missouri they came very
near falling into the hands of Curtis, who pursued them hard almost to
the Arkansas line, where the trail was lost. The guerrillas crossed
the Mississippi river at Gaine's Landing, nearly twenty miles above
Memphis, and made their way through Tennessee, entering Kentucky
from the south. At Hartford, in Ohio county, the command met a squad
of thirty militia under command of Capt. Barnett, whom they readily
deceived into the belief that they were Federal troops searching for
guerrillas, and that Quantrell was a Federal captain. Indeed the
deception was played so successfully that Barnett was induced to
accompany them upon an expedition. Quantrell managed to communicate
with each of his men, whom he instructed to ride beside the Federals,
and when he should draw his handkerchief and throw it over his shoulder
it was the signal for the slaughter. At about five o'clock in the
afternoon Frank James rode up beside Capt. Barnett, while Quantrell
moved forward, and as his horse stepped into a shallow branch where
all his men could see him, he drew the fatal handkerchief, and without
looking back he waved it and then threw it over his shoulder. There was
a rattle of pistol shots and Capt. Barnett and his men fell dead under
their horses.
Near Hopkinsville the guerrillas met twelve Federal cavalrymen who
sought the shelter of a barn and gave battle. The fight lasted for
more than an hour, and until the barn was fired, when the twelve
brave fellows were forced from their defense and were shot as they
rushed from the flames. Their horses then became the property of the
guerrillas. Frank James stopped one day with an uncle, who lives about
fifty miles from Hopkinsville, and thus permitted the command to get
so far ahead of him that he did not engage in any more skirmishes in
Kentucky; for, two days afterward, Quantrell was driven into a small
village called Smiley, where, finding escape impossible, he made his
last stand. It was forty against nearly three hundred, and Quantrell
knew that it was a fight to the death. Bleeding almost at every pore,
the black-bannered bandit fought like the gladiators, until, blinded
by his own blood, and with a score of gaping wounds, he fell mortally
wounded, with an empty pistol in one hand and a bloody sword in the
other. It was thus that the entire force of Quantrell's guerrillas
died, excepting Frank James, whose life was spared for darker deeds.
JESSE JAMES' CAREER IN TEXAS.
As previously stated, Jesse James left Missouri in company with George
Shepherd and forty or fifty guerrillas, for Texas, where they spent the
winter of 1864-5 without special activity, and in the spring it was
decided to return to Missouri, although such a decision was pregnant
with a renewal of all the dangers from which they had just escaped.
Upon reaching Benton county Jesse James, Arch Clements and another
comrade proceeded to the farm-house of James Harkness, who was known
as an uncompromising Union man. They decoyed him a short distance from
his house by requesting him to direct them to a spring which they knew
was in the neighborhood. When out of sight of the house Jesse James
and his comrade caught Harkness by the arms and held him firmly, while
Arch Clements drew a large bowie-knife with which he cut the throat of
the defenceless farmer, almost severing his head. Fresh blood being
upon their hands, they rode into Johnson county to the house of Allen
Duncan, another Union man, and finding him chopping wood in his yard,
Jesse James first accosted him and then sent a bullet into his brain.
The guerrilla band, now numbering scarce a score, before getting out
of Johnson county were surprised by a company of Federal volunteers
and almost annihilated. Jesse James had his horse shot under him and
a musket ball went crashing through his lungs. Supposing him dead,
the Federals gave pursuit to the fleeing guerrillas and chased the
remaining few for nearly fifty miles. The wounded guerrilla lay for
two days where he fell, in terrible agony, and would have died except
for the kindly ministrations of a farmer who chanced to find him. The
care he received, after weeks of suffering, enabled him to again resume
the saddle, and he went to Nebraska, where his mother was temporarily
living and where he remained until the return of Frank James from
Kentucky late in the following summer.
Before Frank left Brandensburg, however, he met with an adventure which
nearly cost his life. The vicinity of Brandensburg was infested with
horse-thieves, and suspicion was directed against Frank as one of the
guilty band. It was determined to arrest him, and for this purpose a
posse of six men went to the house where he was stopping, and after
charging him with horse-stealing, demanded his arms. The response was
most unexpected, for, with an oath, he drew his pistol and shot three
of the party, and in return was badly wounded in the thigh. The other
three fled, but a large crowd soon collected, to intimidate which Frank
backed up against the house and threatened to shoot any one who made
the least motion to harm him. A horse was standing hitched conveniently
near, and, compelling the crowd to fall back, he drew his suffering
body up into the saddle and made his escape. The wound proved a very
serious one and kept him confined to his bed at the house of a friend,
where he found refuge, nearly seventy-five miles from Brandensburg, for
several months.
ROBBERY AND MURDER.
It is a trite old saying that "one crime begets another," and in the
life of Jesse and Frank James it is well illustrated. When the war
closed and the occupation of the guerrilla, under color of authority,
was gone, the James Boys were loth to change the exciting and dangerous
vocation to which they had become inured by nearly four years of almost
ceaseless activity. Other guerrillas, who had been their comrades in
so many desperate struggles, which had made their very names a terror,
had surrendered themselves when the bond of national union had been
repaired, and returned to peaceful pursuits; but Jesse and Frank James
affected to despise the ordinary walks of life and refused to tread
other than paths which bristled with danger and anxiety. Both were
sorely wounded, and a period of recuperation was necessary; and this
respite from the turmoils of bandit life was employed in the conception
of bold schemes by which to enlarge the notoriety of their names and to
accumulate wealth.
When they had somewhat recovered from their wounds, Mrs. Samuels
returned to her old home, in Clay county, while the boys paid her
occasional visits as opportunity offered, but generally keeping
themselves well hidden in the fastnesses of Jackson county. In the
latter part of 1866, Jesse James was attacked with a severe type of
malarial fever, which the exposure he had to endure so intensified
that he determined to secretly visit his mother and place himself
under her immediate care. The record which he had made during the
war rendered him amenable to the vengeance of a large number of the
residents of Clay and adjoining counties, who had suffered by his
desperate acts. Consequently, Jesse knew that eternal vigilance was
necessary, but hoped to so conceal his presence at the Samuels'
homestead that no one would suspect his location or condition. But in
this he was deceived, for only a few days had elapsed after his arrival
at home when, by some means unknown to the writer, it was discovered
that Jesse had taken up at least a temporary residence with his mother.
It was a bitter cold night in the month of February, 1867, that a
band of six persons, each of whom had a special grievance to revenge,
knocked at the door of Dr. Samuels' residence and demanded immediate
admittance. Jesse was in a bed up stairs, but he was the first to
hear and understand the peremptory challenge, as it were, of the men
outside. Hastily drawing on his pantaloons and boots, he grabbed his
two heavy pistols and looked out of the window where, by the light
refracted by the snow, he saw six horses and only a single man. He
knew then that the house was surrounded and all chance of escape lay
in a bloody fight. He silently descended to the first floor, where
Dr. Samuels was rattling the door and explaining to those awaiting
admittance that the lock was out of repair so that the key would not
work readily. This was a ruse, however, to secure time for Jesse who,
Dr. Samuels hoped, would be able to escape through a back window.
Locating the voice of one of the men who was threatening to break in
the door, Jesse fired through the panel and a stifled groan told him
that his aim had been perfect. On hearing the shot, the other five
rushed to the front of the house. Jesse threw the door partly open
and the light from the snow made the men outside easy targets for his
unerring aim, while he was so hidden by the door and darkness within
that the attacking party could not fire with the least accuracy. In
half the time it has taken the reader to even scan this report three of
the six men were lying dead in the snow and two others were desperately
wounded, while the other fled in mortal terror.
Suffering, as he was, from a very high fever, Jesse lost no time in
mounting his horse, and with a hurried good-bye, he again rode into
the wilderness, leaving his mother and her family with the dead and
wounded. It was a ghastly scene, there upon the white-shrouded ground,
one man dead on the doorstep, two others stiff and frozen in their own
blood which crimsoned the yard, while the groans from the wounded made
the place more hideous. Dr. Samuels notified his nearest neighbor as
soon as possible and with the assistance he secured, the two wounded
men were taken into the house and cared for, while a lonely vigil
over the dead was kept until morning. A large crowd collected at the
homestead on the following day and removed the bodies, while more than
fifty well mounted citizens went in pursuit of the youthful desperado,
but after a week's fruitless search they returned to their homes and
quiet again brooded over the distressed neighborhood.
[Illustration: JESSE JAMES' RECEPTION.]
PLUNDERING A KENTUCKY BANK.