Stories of Civil War Soldiers - David Baldridge

Stories of Civil War Soldiers

David Baldridge

This is the second of the five stories of Civil War Soldiers of the Oak Creek Valley from Part III:

“American Centennial at the Homeplace: The Founding (1833-1876)”

David Baldridge

I didn’t really want to leave the valley, but in the fall of 1861, when they actually set the mill on fire, I was lucky to get away alive. I was angry. I should have joined Colonel Patton’s regiment right away, but instead volunteered with an infantry unit. With my experience, they did make me a Supply Sergeant. However, our unit was sent into combat. I did my duty, but I didn’t like it. When I had served my three years, I re-enlisted in Colonel Patton’s regiment, just in time to be there for planning our return as the war was about to end.

I had been able to get a furlough when I was notified that my parents had both died in a carriage accident in 1863. My sister, Sarah, and her husband, Harry McDonald, were nearby and were helpful to me in getting connected with Colonel Patton’s regiment over the following year. 

Sarah had been much more involved in the cattle business that my parents were conducting during the war than I had realized. Actually, I was surprised how involved she had been when I returned, after their death. During that next year, we worked together to allow me, when the war ended, to concentrate on the mill, and she worked toward using our remaining land to raise cattle, again, after the war.

Once I got into the Patton regiment, I was reunited with Liam Olson, and that was good. Lewis and Daniel worked together well, as did Liam and I. They got left a couple of weeks earlier, to return to the valley, because we were getting some special materials we wanted to have to get the mill back in business, if we could. Arriving back in the valley and finding Henry and Alex well, as well as Lewis and Daniel safely there was a thrill I’ll probably never equal.

They all helped build the first cabin near the mill, and then Liam and I helped them build the other cabins, as well. We helped out taking turns working on the crops. Most of my time, as I was able, was devoted to getting a saw mill working, and then getting the grist mill working. We built temporary buildings to shelter the mill when they neared working condition.

Liam and his blacksmithing skills were essential in getting the saw mill in operation as quickly as we did. We appreciated the assistance the others gave us at key times as we got things going. We travelled a few times both to Houston and up to Salem to get supplies we needed. It was truly a team effort.

As the two bachelors in the group, Liam and I enjoyed living and working together. He decided to continue to keep his shop near the mill. Once things settled down to routine, he began to create decorative and ornamental iron works as well as practical items. He was very artistic, and enjoyed doing those things. Also, on some of his leaves while in the service, he had begun to learn to do the work that created stained glass windows. Over a few years, he found time to learn more, and did some of that work, as well.

There was not a lot of work for the mill, in the early times back, of course, so I was able to spend some time helping with the cattle that Sarah and Harry had put on our land, with the help of some others. I enjoyed seeing my sister, from time to time, as she came down and checked things out, herself. She had really become an ‘independent’ woman. She even got involved in the “women’s suffrage” movement, trying to get women the vote. 

In the spring of 1866, I was pleased to have Riley Cooper, and his wife, Julia, return to the valley, to help with the mill. They also bought the full 160 acres, themselves, where they had lived and farmed our 40 acres there. I was sad, of course, to learn that their son, Anderson, had not survived his service in the war. Riley and Julia both became involved in the cattle business with us, too, as we revived that business.

When the politics got newly re-organized, I was pleased to resume my service as the Eastern Trustee for Oak Creek Township. It was certainly in my best interests to be sure the roads and bridges worked well to allow my customers easy access to the valley and the mill. It also supported Harry and Sarah’s freight line business, as well. 

I also agreed to serve on the Bank Board as Jake Patton and Victor Campbell were getting back in a position to resume business. I felt this was an important thing to do to keep involved in the community without taking too much time away from my own businesses.

Upcoming Stories of Civil War Soldiers and Others

*** Lewis Truesdale

*** Gideon Inman

*** Owen Olson

May we each have a Homeplace, if only in our hearts!

Dr. Bill  ;-)

Stories of Civil War Soldiers - Daniel McDonald

Stories of Civil War Soldiers

Daniel McDonald

This is the first of the five stories of Civil War Soldiers of the Oak Creek Valley from Part III:

“American Centennial at the Homeplace: The Founding (1833-1876)”

Daniel McDonald

Jane Truesdale and I had married in June 1859 and looked forward to continue farming with my older brother, Harry, and grandfather, Henry. Harry’s boy, Alex, had become a good worker on the farm, as well. I also made regular freight runs over to the west, to Houston and back, part of our family business. The war pulled us away from all this, but never a day went by that I didn’t think of returning to our farm, with Jane, and raising our family there. I really loved that farm along Oak Creek.

As soon as Colonel Patton got his commission, his grandson, Lewis, my brother-in-law, Jane’s brother, began helping him recruit troops. Lewis liked to joke that I was his “first recruit.” I don’t remember it quite that way, but I’ve always played along with the story. Even though younger than me, he was real good at what he did. I’m a decent worker, not a leader, by nature. My wife, Jane, and her brother, Lewis, they were raised by their parents, Hugh and Victoria (Patton) Truesdale, to be leaders, and they were. I feel lucky to have been able to be around them, and maybe have a little of that rub off on me.

After about a year of being a cavalry soldier in Lewis’s Company, he promoted me to Sergeant under his leadership. I worked really hard to justify his confidence in me. And, it seemed to work. By the time the war ended, I had learned to lead my men, and actually kind of enjoyed it. 

Jane had gone to live with her Truesdale grandparents, who lived near Jefferson City, not far from where my brother, Harry, and his wife, Sarah, and their two younger daughters, lived. Since our assignments and patrols never took us too far from central Missouri, I was able to obtain a number of furloughs to spend time with Jane, and them, when duty allowed. We managed to have a son, William, born 31 Jan 1864. William had a lot of Truesdale blood, I always said, because he was born big and mature, and continued that way. I think that is why we always called him William and not Bill or Billie. His mother raised him to be a man while he was still in diapers. He was smart, handsome and humble - at least he got one characteristic from me.

As I recall, as 1864 became 1865, about the time William had his first birthday, actually, Lewis and I, along with David Baldridge and Liam Olson, also serving in the regiment, in other companies, began to meet and plan our hoped-for return to the Oak Creek valley. Lewis said Colonel Patton was behind the planning, but I was never involved in that part. Indeed, by the first of May we were being mustered out, gathering supplies, and about ready to head south.

Lewis and Caroline had gotten married the prior year, so it was hard for both of us to leave our loved ones, but, we expected that they would be able to join us before long, later in the year, certainly before winter set in.

Lewis and I left first. He hoped and expected to find GranPa Henry and Alex on our arrival, as they had remained in the caves and the wilds of the valley all during the war. A message had been received by Colonel Patton from Henry that was written in November of 1863. That was now nearly eighteen months past and we were concerned as we approached the ridge above where the mill had been as we rode down the west side of Oak Creek, leading mules with filled packs.

Catching sight of Henry and Alex, dressed like mountain men, was a total thrill, once we recognized that it really was them. GranPa Henry looked old and tough. Alex looked all grown up, though still small, but tough as nails, just like his GrandPa. What a sight... We were home.

Learning that the war was actually ended and that more family and neighbors would be coming yet that year, they were as anxious as we were to get to work on crops and additional housing. That is easy to say, now, looking back. At the time, looking out across the valley, all grown up in trees, bushes and other vegetation, not homes, and barns and cultivated fields, it did seem a daunting task ahead of us. But, we each got right to work.

We soon discovered that they had been planting seeds saved from the prior year in individual hills with fish, like the pilgrims and the Indians had. Those were all planted. Seeing the mules, Henry was anxious to retrieve the plow from the cave where he had cached it to get to work on some real crops, with the new seed we had brought. Since the season was already a bit late, that took a high priority. 

Another priority was self-protection. We had brought extra rifles and ammunition. Henry and Alex were very pleased with this. They had survived with bow and arrow. There was still a high probability that outlaws and raiders might still be in the area. We took precautions, and continually reminded ourselves, all through the summer, that we were “home” but not necessarily “safe.” 

David and Liam were about ten days behind us in arriving in the valley. They also brought more mules with more packs of supplies and some of their equipment to begin to salvage what they could around the mill. Liam brought some of his blacksmithing tools, and hoped to set up shop near the mill. David hoped to get a saw mill operating fairly quickly and the grist mill at a minimal level by the fall harvest, assuming there would be one. 

We decided to build the first small cabin near the mill site, not too far from the caves where Henry and Alex had been living, and all of us based there in the early days. The second house was to be for the McDonalds on McDonald land, but further west than the original home; closer to the former Truesdale place, where Jane and I had started our married life. We decided to build a double cabin, with a dog-trot separating them. Jane, William and I would live on one side, Henry and Alex on the other, with a little room for visitors.

I helped as I could, also, with the first two houses built over in the central valley, one for Lewis and his extended family and the other for the Olson’s, under some agreement he had made with Colonel Patton. They each made several visits during the summer. Col. Patton was returning quickly to involvement in his earlier political activities. He still served as a County Commissioner, which apparently had benefits for us in the valley to assure our continued ownership interests and political entities. We learned that David Baldridge would resume his duties as Eastern Township Trustee, for example, with responsibilities for roads and bridges, among other things. 

That interested me, as after we got the crops in, I wanted to begin to get the roads back in shape so that the freight runs could be resumed. I had agreed with my brother, Harry, and the now much expanded freight line he was affiliated with, to be the local contact, to set up local pick-up and delivery points, and to be responsible for the mail routes to the local post office when it was resumed by the Olsons in Oak Springs.

By the fall, when a few other families arrived along with the rest of our families, we resumed the “Fourth Sunday” tradition in September. It was very useful for joint planning and keeping in touch with what others were doing. It was at that first gathering that I attended that I fully realized how much planning was going on in Oak Springs. 

I’d been spending my time on the farm and on the roads. We got the first freight wagon through from Houston in late September, just before the meeting, and the first freight wagon through from Salem, to the north, in early October. In November the first wagon headed on south east to Eminence. By spring, regular service had fully resumed, including regular mail service.

Jane and William were able to make the trip down with Colonel Patton in his carriage in mid-October. A few weeks later, Owen Olson, his wife, Anna, and daughter, Allison, along with a very pregnant Caroline (McDonald) Truesdale, and Nellie Truesdale arrived in the central valley via a “covered wagon” to join Lewis. The baby, their first, a boy named James, was born the first week of February. 

Upcoming Stories of Civil War Soldiers and Others

*** David Baldridge

*** Lewis Truesdale

*** Gideon Inman

*** Owen Olson

May we each have a Homeplace, if only in our hearts!

Dr. Bill  ;-)

Today's Thoughts on… Part III, of the Founding Book-the rest

Today's Thoughts on…

Part III, of the Founding Book-the rest of the stories

The following will serve as a guide to the weekly Friday posting for the next several weeks:

Starting tomorrow, we share the five other stories....

From the:

Table of Contents

“American Centennial at the Homeplace: The Founding (1833-1876)”

**Part III - Stories of the Civil War Period (1861-1865)

Civil War Short Story

Stories of Civil War Soldiers and Others

*** Daniel McDonald

*** David Baldridge

*** Lewis Truesdale

*** Gideon Inman

*** Owen Olson

The "Civil War Short Story" is the Feature Presentation of the Book.

May we each have a Homeplace, if only in our hearts!

Dr. Bill  ;-)

The Civil War Short Story - Part 4 of 4

The Civil War Short Story

Part 4 of 4

The following excerpt is from Part III of the forthcoming Short Story Collection:

“American Centennial at the Homeplace: The Founding (1833-1876)”

The "Civil War Short Story" is considered by the author as the Feature Presentation of the book.

Statue of a Civil War Soldier at Gettysburg

Source: Freeimages.com user smithwil

http://www.freeimages.com/photo/815009

The Civil War Short Story - Part 4 of 4:

As that summer of 1865 moved along we worked together and separately on the various jobs we felt needed done, in order, based on the weather, our projected needs and individual interests in moving back toward normalcy - if there ever again would be such a thing. From the beginning, we agreed to each keep our rifles within reach and to be constantly on alert for raiders, outlaws or strangers coming into the valley.

It turned out we did have two incidents of note. One occurred in July and and the other in the middle of August. I remember that the first occurred about a week after we paused in our work to celebrate Independence Day. On that occasion, among us we had actually talked at length about how “lucky” we had been not to have any raiders, but, we also reminded ourselves to remain alert. And, by being alert, we spotted the group of about ten horsemen entering the valley, along the river, from the southeast before they saw that we were here. We all converged, as we had planned, just north of a little ridge on the west side of Oak Creek, just south of the McDonald land. As the horsemen were beginning to come up that ridge from the south, we all emerged, spaced out, rifles at the ready, like a well-drilled military squad, to challenge their approach. Whatever their original intent, they were not expecting what they found. They claimed to be ranchers from the Jack’s Fork area scouting for unclaimed cattle. We all knew better, but as long as they were willing to turn around and return the way they came, no one challenged their assertion. We were even more vigilant for the next couple of weeks, but no further  incidents occurred at that time.

I’ll never forget the mid-August incident, because it was the one and only time I was actually shot at. That is something you do not forget. This time, we didn’t spot the eight riders quite as early, and only three of us got to the ridge in time to confront them. Without sufficient numbers we did not intimidate them, and they decided to challenge us by drawing pistols and firing at us almost immediately, without more than a few words exchanged. Lewis, Daniel and I were the three on the ridge. Each of them had seen combat, so were well prepared, hit the dirt and came up firing. I did hit the dirt, effectively, and the shot in my direction flew over my head. Since I was not combat trained, they had told me to just stay down and assess my situation before moving. In those couple of seconds, thankfully, David and Liam, both also combat veterans, emerged over the hill to our left. All four of our veteran’s were firing at the invaders, who decided the odds had changed significantly, wheeled around, and headed back south. We were pretty sure that four or five of them actually were hit, but they all stayed in their saddles as they hightailed it out of our valley. We kept on high alert, again, for the next couple of weeks, by never had another encounter. 

Early in the fall, the outdoor saw mill at the mill was producing lumber three days a week and the grist mill was operating on a small scale three days a week with a workable temporary shelter. Pairs of the men made several trips to Houston to the west and Salem to the north for more supplies and occasional replacement parts for the mill and other operations. 

By late in the fall when cold weather really set in, collectively, we had three houses constructed. One was over west by the old Patton Blacksmith Shop. My sister, Caroline, had arrived to join her husband, Lewis Truesdale (Lewis was your mother Jane’s brother, of course; both children of Hugh Truesdale and Victoria Patton). Lewis and Jane’s grandfather, Colonel Jake Patton, though 67 years old, had decided it was critical to the valley and his family to return, reestablish political relationships, if possible, sufficient to assure continued title to the respective properties in the valley. From the time of his arrival, Colonel Patton made regular trips south to participate in county government representing this part of the county. While in the valley, he lived in the house with Lewis and Caroline.

The second house was built near the Baldridge mill. David Baldridge and Liam Olson lived there, initially. Liam had hoped to bring his family before the winter season arrived, but then decided it would be best to wait until spring. A few other woman and children had arrived as well as two additional families who resettled in the western valley.

Along with your father, Daniel, GranPa Henry and I occupied the third house which was at the McDonald farmstead. Before long your mother, Jane, also arrived with you, William, and joined us there.

The End

The Civil War Short Story - Part 3 of 4

The Civil War Short Story

Part 3 of 4

The following excerpt is from Part III of the forthcoming Short Story Collection:

“American Centennial at the Homeplace: The Founding (1833-1876)”

The "Civil War Short Story" is considered by the author as the Feature Presentation of the book.

Statue of a Civil War Soldier at Gettysburg

Source: Freeimages.com user smithwil

http://www.freeimages.com/photo/815009

[To start with Part 1]

The Civil War Short Story - Part 3 of 4:

We did have some of our books in the caves and we did keep up a calendar. So we knew it was on November 10, 1863, when we spotted a small company of Union soldiers on horseback coming through our valley. They made camp in the bend of Oak Creek. GrandPa Henry decided this was the time to make contact with them and find out a little more about the outside world. It had been many weeks since anyone had entered our valley.

There were 18 men, men and horses, camped that night along the Creek. GranPa had me stay back, in cover, and he approached the camp carefully, making himself known without being shot on sight by the pickets that had been set up. He presented himself as a hermit and hunter just passing through the area himself; he was about 62 years old, at the time. He did tell the young Lieutenant in charge that he had known a Colonel Jake Patton who had once lived in this valley, when he had passed through before. He said he believed the Colonel was now in the St. Louis area. He asked the Lieutenant to pass along a note to Colonel Patton that they had seen him. He used his own name.

They told him the war was still going on and they were clearing the area of southern sympathizing guerrillas and outlaws. They questioned him extensively, of course, but he seemed to give them answers they were willing to accept and did not detain him. 

With that encounter, we continued our efforts to make our life as workable as possible for another potentially hard winter. By that time, the harvesting was done from what we had planted but there were still wild elements (nuts, berry, etc.) and the fruit in the orchards that could be collected. We continued to do that along with our regular hunting efforts. Deer and turkey, in particular, continued to be plentiful. We each used bow and arrow quite effectively, along with traps and snares, and occasionally, spears.

We followed the same processes in 1864. It seemed there were fewer raiding parties during the year and only two or three identifiable sets of troops going through. We did not make contact with them, assuming we would get the same response as before.

It was not until May of 1865 when your father, Daniel McDonald, and my brother-in-law (your uncle), Lewis Truesdale, appeared in the valley, coming from the north, on horseback, each leading two pack mules. 

We were very happy to greet them and to receive the news that, officially at least, the war was over. We were sure there would still be some raiders and outlaws, but we would deal with that as needed. It was wonderful to hear news of family. We had been so isolated for so long. We first heard that Lewis and Caroline had married. We heard of you, William, being born in the prior year. Many of our family and friends from the valley had been able to stay close, or in touch, and we enjoyed hearing of each of them.

On the pack mules, they brought some harness and more seed to plant along with other supplies. They also brought a couple of extra rifles and ammunition, which were certainly great to see. 

We wasted little time in locating the old plow and other useful items and identifying the best field to plow and plant first. We had already planted all the seed we had saved from the prior year, so it was important to put our best efforts, so long as weather permitted, to get some good crops in for this year. We hoped and assumed that more family and friends would return yet that year, and certainly the following year. We were a bit optimistic on this, but better that than not to be prepared for them. They said they believed David Baldridge was only a couple of weeks behind them, and hoped to get both the saw mill and the grist mill back in operation by fall, at least at a modest level.

Actually, David Baldridge arrived in about ten days. He was accompanied by Liam Olson and, again, they each also had two mules loaded with supplies. Liam’s parents, Owen and Anna, had been in the valley nearly as long as the four original families. Liam, like his father before him, had learned the blacksmithing trade from his father and Jake Patton and was learning to be a successful farmer, as well. We learned that he had enlisted in the Union army and had served as a farrier, caring for the horses. He was also among the first released when the war ended, because the need for his services diminished quickly. Along with many others, he was anxious to attempt to re-establish his position in the valley so his family could return, as well. He and David knew their skills would be very useful to others as well as themselves in meeting these goals.

By the way, with the end of the war, horses and mules were available at relatively cheap prices, accounting for their numbers among these early arrivals. It didn’t take us very long to get back into the habit of using the animals regularly.

I was, of course, a bit surprised that my father was not among the first to come back. However, after talking to the men, they said he wanted to come but, in order of priorities, 1) he had the best current job, 2) he had the responsibilities of an extended family, and 3) the younger men were better equipped to make the long ride on horseback more quickly. In fact, of course, it turned out that he had successfully established a freight company that was growing and continued to grow during the post war era. My younger sisters and mother were very happy and didn’t really want to return to the rural area, and so they never did, as you know. This was among the reasons the growth of the revived valley was much slower than many of us had expected. It took many years to rebuild, and, to my best understanding, we have not yet, more than ten years later, matched the levels of activity we had achieved prior to the war. 

To be continued... next Friday...