September 16th, 1861, we got marching orders, struck tents, and
boarded a steamboat which carried us to St. Louis. We left the boat
and while marching up Main street on our way to the Union station
was the first charge which the old Twenty-fourth struck. Drums and
fifes were playing when four large gray horses drawing a big delivery
wagon collided with the head of our column, knocking it east and
west. Several of our boys were slightly bruised, but they were more
frightened than injured. In this way James R. Dalton and John W.
Hostetter got their discharges.
That night we boarded a train, pulled by two engines, of twenty flat
cars, fifty men to a car. We started westward to open up the Union
Pacific railroad over which a train had not run for months. The weeds
had grown upon the track until the engines could hardly pull their
own weight. We traveled very slowly, and the morning of the 17th
found us not many miles from St. Louis.
Half of our train had been cut loose and the engines had pulled on to
the next switch. They soon returned for the balance of the train. At
this place we heard the first national songs which we had heard sung
in rebeldom. Some ladies carrying the grand old Stars and Stripes
came out on the portico and sang “The Star Spangled Banner,” “The
Red, White and Blue,” and other national songs. You bet there were
cheers which went up for those union ladies.
This was the first time that Colonel Hovey knew that Indiana
soldiers would eat chickens. But he found it out now, as the boys
came straggling to the cars, at the call of the whistle, loaded with
chickens and peaches. Colonel Hovey called, “Take them back, you
d---- chicken thieves, or I’ll have you arrested. I didn’t think I
had started out with a clan of Indiana thieves.”
Some of the boys became angry and made threats, while others laughed
and were jolly about it. But it was all soon forgotten as the train
pulled out. We had to walk by the side of the engine and throw gravel
under the drive-wheels so that the engine would pull anything.
We went through three tunnels and came to Jefferson City. This is the
capital of Missouri. Governor Jackson had the State House burned and
skipped out with the old rebel, General Price.
At 11 o’clock p. m., September 7th, two engines, coupled together,
and pulling our full train, went on west. Just as we started one of
the boys of Company D fell under the car and was instantly killed.
On the morning of the 18th the engines could not pull their own
weights and each company cut loose and pushed their own cars. While
doing this, Brown of Company B, fell under the car and the wheels ran
over his leg.
We pushed up the grades and rode down them. Sometimes we even had to
push the engines.
We reached Syracuse late on the evening of the 18th. We got off of
the cars, marched out and went into camp near the town. A strong
picket line was posted and a strict order was placed on the pickets.
A heavy penalty of death was imposed on those who slept on their post.
The moon shined bright and at 10 o’clock the still night air was
disturbed by the tramp of horses’ feet and rattle of sabers coming
towards our camp. The picket who was posted on the road did not wait
to challenge the supposed enemy, but fired his gun and skedaddled to
camp. The pickets all around the camp fired their guns and ran.
The long roll was beat and all was hustle and bustle in camp. “Fall
in, fall in!” was the order from colonel and captains, “and get ready
for action.” In four minutes the old Twenty-fourth was ready for
action and facing the supposed enemy. Several were shaking as with
the ague, yet they were ready to take their medicine.
In a few minutes we saw a single orderly coming down the road. He
rode up and asked, “What the h---- does this mean?” Colonel Hovey,
standing there in his night clothes, with his fighting blood up,
answered him pretty roughly and wanted to know who it was. We found
out that it was Colonel Eads’ home guards of “Jayhawkers” who had
come from California to join our army. We then broke ranks and went
back to our quarters to dream of the false alarm and the excitement
which Colonel Eads’ Jayhawkers caused us.
On the morning of the 20th we struck tents and marched seven miles
west. Here, at the Lamine river, we went into camp. THIS camp was
called Camp Morton.
The next morning heavy details were sent out to build fortifications
for picket duty and to guard the Lamine bridge while the carpenters
rebuilt it. This bridge had been burned by the rebels a few days
before we got there.
The Twenty-fourth Indiana was the first regiment to arrive at this
place, but there were more brigades on the way to reinforce us, some
by way of the Missouri river and some by rail, as we had come.
On the morning of the 23d we were joined by the Second Indiana
Cavalry. We now had the bridge completed, and the trains ran over
it and went as far as Sedalia, this being as far as the road was
completed at that time.
At about this time, the Eighteenth and Twenty-sixth Indiana landed
on the banks of the Missouri river, and it being a very dark night,
they ran into the Twenty-second Indiana. They had quite a little spat
before they found out their mistake. The Major and six men of the
Twenty-second were killed.
On the 30th of September we marched to Georgetown, the county seat of
Pettice county. It was dark when we reached the town. As we found no
enemy to oppose us we went into quarters in the court house.
Here the Eighth, Eighteenth, Twenty-second, Twenty-fifth,
Twenty-sixth Indiana regiments and the Eighth Missouri and ten pieces
of artillery joined us. We were collecting an army to raise the siege
of Lexington, which was twenty miles above here. Rebel General Price
had had Colonel Muligan, with a handful of our soldiers, cooped
up there for several days. General Fremont was getting his troops
together to raise the siege, but he was too slow. The little garrison
of 2,800 Union men defended the fort five days against a superior
force of 11,000 men.
An order was given to mount the Twenty-fourth Indiana on mules.
We marched to the corral and tried to break several of those wild
bucking mules. The order was countermanded. That evening we started
on the march, but had only gone a few miles when we met our paroled
prisoners. They reported that they held out five days and then ran
out of rations and ammunition. They also stated that their loss was
60 killed and 40 wounded. The rebel loss was unknown.
We about faced and went back to camp. On the 5th of October we moved
out on an open field and pitched tents. Here we drew two months’
pay. This was the first time that we had ever drawn any of Uncle
Sam’s money. The officers were paid with gold coin.
While at this place we drilled six hours each day. We received
marching orders on the tenth of the month, but the order was
countermanded. On the morning of the 16th we again received marching
orders. We struck tents and marched a distance of two miles to
Sedalia, a town at the end of the Pacific railroad.
The war had stopped all the progress of the railroad. The workmen had
stacked their shovels, picks, and wheelbarrows in a large cut and had
fled in all directions.