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Survivors Of Guerrilla Organizations

Stuart and Mosby As the Confederate Army prepares to go into winter quarters, Mosby asks permission of Stuart to stay behind with a detail of men to conduct guerilla operations in Loudon County. At that moment, Mosby's Rangers were born.

For half a decade before the Civil War, residents of the neighboring states of Missouri and Kansas waged their own civil war. It was a conflict whose scars were a long time in healing. The Civil War came early to Missouri and Kansas, stayed late, and was characterized at all times by unremitting and unparalleled brutality. More than anywhere else, it was truly a civil war. The first formal military action in Missouri took place less than a month after the April 1861 Confederate bombardment of Fort Sumter, S.C. On May 10, Federal troops led by hotheaded Captain Nathaniel Lyon took over at gunpoint the arsenal at Camp Jackson, near St. Louis. Lyon's soldiers brutally fired into a riotous mob of Southern sympathizers, leaving 20 people dead. It was an ominous beginning to official hostilities.

Three years later, Confederate Maj. Gen. Sterling "Pap" Price led a last-gasp raid across the state. Forced to bypass St. Louis because of overwhelming Federal strength there, Price's troops struggled past Hermann, Boonville, Glasgow, Lexington and Independence before losing an engagement at Westport, now part of Kansas City, and retiring, exhausted, into Arkansas. Westport was the last major Civil War battle west of the Mississippi River, yet it was but one of the 1,162 battles and skirmishes fought in Missouri during the conflict.

Usually subordinated to events east of the Mississippi, these and other western battles became slender chapters in the history of the war. But it is in the footnotes, so to speak, that the true character of the war in Missouri and Kansas is revealed. This dark soul is epitomized by two words: Bushwhackers and Jayhawkers.

As a bird, the Jayhawk does not exist; it is as fabulous as the mythological roc. But Jayhawkers were very real, indeed, in the days leading up to the Civil War. A Jayhawker was one of a band of anti-slavery, pro-Union guerrillas coursing about Kansas and Missouri, impelled by substantially more malice than charity. Jayhawkers were undisciplined, unprincipled, occasionally murderous, and always thieving. Indeed, Jayhawking became a widely used synonym for stealing.

Bushwhackers were cut from much the same cloth, but that cloth was butternut instead of blue. Bushwhackers favored the Confederacy. Some Bushwhackers were semi-legitimate soldiers, even grudgingly acknowledged as such by the Confederate Army. Such men as William Quantrill, "Bloody Bill" Anderson, John Thrailkill, David Pool, Jo Shelby and Jeff Thompson were in this category. Others were simply banditti with a quasi-military excuse for vengeful ambush, robbery, murder, arson and plunder.

It was excellent training, as well, for the postwar careers of some survivors. Was there a shortage of money to live on, or to buy horses or food? Horses and food could always be stolen. But cash was in banks, stagecoaches and railroad trains. It did not take the guerrillas long to figure out how it could be liberated for their use. Frank James and his kid brother Jesse, tagging along with Quantrill's men, turned the knowledge to good account after 1865. So did their cousins, Coleman and Jim Younger. It was a fertile training ground for bandits of all stripes.

Price and Lyon, Lane and Jennison, Quantrill and Shelby are among the best-remembered names of the conflict. Myriad others, however--slaughtered men, women and children--were the forgotten victims of the undeclared Kansas-Missouri border war that raged in the 1850s. The perpetrators on both sides were labeled "border ruffians" by a young newspaper correspondent named James Redpath, and New York Tribune editor Horace Greeley publicized the epithet widely. But ruffians was too kind a term--murderers would have been more accurate.

Archie Clement surrendered to Federal authorities at the end of the war, but he was shot from his horse in Lexington on December 13, 1866, while attempting to flee arrest by state militiamen. Jim Lane, too, died a violent death. Despondent over his failing political fortunes, Lane shot himself while in Lawrence on July 1, 1866, dying 10 days later.

Jesse James lasted longer--he was murdered in 1882, shot down in his own home by "the dirty little coward" Robert Ford, who was himself killed by a James supporter a few years later. The Jayhawkers and Bushwhackers died off, some violently, some in the peace and prosperity of old age. But the wounds of the bitter struggles in Kansas and Missouri, which presaged the Civil War and epitomized its brutality, lasted. Understandably, the first years after the war saw emotions still running high on both sides, and a number of acts of violence and revenge, some by individuals, others by groups, continued to darken the public mind.

In one typical postwar incident, in the western hamlet of Haynesville, Mo., a pro-Union townsman named Loft Easton drank heavily and accused a former guerrilla captain named Jim Green (whom he had run into at a local grocery store) of being part of a company of Bushwhackers that had burned out Easton's father during the war. Green attempted to reason with Easton, pleading with him "not to get in a fuss," but the drunken man continued berating Green and all other Southern guerrillas he could bring to mind. Green, to his credit, attempted to walk away from the fight, pulling a pistol and telling Easton not to follow him. Easton kept coming, however, and a grocery clerk, perhaps attempting to keep the peace--or else a fellow Union sympathizer of Easton's--tried to knock Green's gun out of his hand. Instead, for his troubles, the clerk found himself on the fatal end of a stray shot from Easton.

Green dove for his pistol while Easton continued firing wildly. Getting up, he shot his assailant once, knocking him over, then coolly walked up and killed Easton with two more shots to the head. A local diarist, Sarah Harlan, herself a pro-Union resident of Haynesville, noted fairly, "I believe that everybody that seen it justifies Jim." Green surrendered to the local sheriff and was placed on bond awaiting trial; he eventually was exonerated of all charges against him.

Another, less lethal, encounter between old enemies took place in Chariton County in October 1866. As noted by Southern sympathizer William Hill, the fight consisted in its entirety of the following exchange: "Old Dave came down here last week & told Jube West he came down to straighten out the damn Rebels. Jube immediately knocked him down twice & beat him vere [sic] severly [sic] in the face. Dave left immediately on the stage. Everyone was glad and said it was the best thing ever happened here."

Not even ministers were exempt from the postwar violence. Unionists still nursed a grudge against Baptist and Methodist ministers who had supported the South during the war--or, on some occasions, had merely counseled Christian charity to a defeated foe. One such victim was a Reverend Hadlee of Webster County, in south central Missouri. Reputed to have been a "bitter Rebel" by the pro-Union sheriff at Springfield, Hadlee had fled the state during the war and had only recently returned. One Sabbath day in August 1866, Hadlee attempted to resume preaching at his old church, but he was refused entry by Union loyalists who told him that he was "obnoxious" and that because of his "rebellious acts" they did not want him to preach to or teach them.

Enraged, Hadlee pulled down the American flag flying outside the church and started down the road toward his own land, where he intended to preach to a group of pro-Southern followers. He did not make it that far. A conveniently unidentified gunman rode alongside the minister and shot him dead; no one was willing to identify the killer, either from fear of reprisal or in support of his decidedly unchristian act.

Such acts, whether comparatively harmless fisticuffs or coldblooded murder, were the natural fruit of a decade-long planting of bitter, mean-spirited seeds. For everyone in the war-torn states of Missouri and Kansas, the scars of both civil war and Civil War were a long time in healing. Talk to many residents of the area today, and you will find that they have never totally healed, even now.

Could the South, once its armies were defeated, have continued the conflict through large-scale guerrilla war (Guerrilla (also called a partisan) is a term borrowed from Spanish ("guerra" meaning "war" and "guerrilla" meaning "little war") used to describe small combat groups. Guerrilla warfare operates with small, mobile and flexible combat groups called cells, without a front line.), worn down the Union occupation forces, and ultimately gained its independence? Some Southerners, as the Confederacy began to crumble, advocated such a course of action. But these diehards were wrong, whereas Lee was right in advising his soldiers at Appomattox to return home and be peaceful, law-abiding citizens. The objective and subjective conditions for successful guerrilla war simply did not exist in the South in 1865. There were no regular armies to sustain it, and the areas best suited for partisan operations - the mountains and swamps - were dominated by Unionists and deserters.

In addition guerrilla war of the magnitude advocated presupposes a spirit and attitude among the population at large which did not exist in the South: Although the Confederacy may have been, as one historian has called it, "a revolutionary experience," the majority of Southerners did not conceive of it in revolutionary terms. But above all, by 1865 the people of the South, and especially the fighting men, were thoroughly sick of war. Thus when a civilian shortly after Appomattox told one of Lee's veterans that "You should have taken to the mountains and fought guerrilla warfare," the soldier replied, "Look! I've been in thirty-five battles since this war started, and I'm plumb satisfied!" An attempt to continue the struggle through guerrilla war would merely have prolonged and intensified the misery of the already ravaged South and engendered greater vindictiveness in the North.

What did the guerrillas contribute to the Confederacy's military effort? Some historians have asserted that they tied down tens of thousands of Union soldiers, and by so doing, and by striking at Federal supply and communication lines, they postponed Confederate defeat. But cold analysis of the evidence provides little support for such claims. Most of the troops employed against partisans were militia who would not have been sent to the front in any case. As for regular troops, they were stationed in the rear not so much to combat bushwhackers as to protect against the cavalry raids of Stuart, Forrest, Van Dorn, Morgan, Wheeler, Price, et al - forays which made a greater strategic impact than the comparative pinpricks of the partisans. Moreover, as has been noted, the Confederates themselves had to divert troops to counter Unionist guerrillas and round up deserters.

As for postponing defeat, the only guerrilla operations, which significantly contributed to that, were those of Mosby and other Virginia partisans during the summer and fall of 1864. Circumstances were unusually favorable for guerrilla war in this case - and Mosby and his men were exceptional guerrillas. In fact, they were more like regular cavalry permanently stationed behind enemy lines than guerrillas in the traditional sense of that word. Outfits such as Quantrill's, on the other hand, were inherently incapable of accomplishing much of military value even in the rare instances when Confederate commanders, such as Hindman and Price, tried to make use of them.

Probably the most telling commentary on the military contribution of the guerrillas is the fact that by 1863 nearly all Confederate generals and officials agreed that they did more harm than good, and that they would be of greater service in the regular forces. Indeed, apart from their role in the 1864 Virginia campaign, and the boost that some of their exploits gave to Southern morale, their activities overall had negative results: The devastation of west Missouri, north and west Virginia, north Arkansas, and other areas; misery and death for hundreds of people; murderous local feuds which plagued some states (notably Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia) for a generation; and last but not least the spawning of a host of postwar outlaws, the most famous of which were the legendary James boys and Younger brothers.

Nevertheless, the survivors of the two main guerrilla organizations, Mosby's and Quantrill's, were proud of their deeds. Well into the 20th century they held annual reunions to celebrate the "good old times." Mosby, who lived until 1916, was able to attend most of the Virginia gatherings. Quantrill's veterans, on the other hand, had to make do with a large photograph of their chieftain, draped in black.

Estimate Of The Number Of Guerrillas Who Operated In Southern And Border States

1. More or less fulltime Confederate guerrillas: 7,000 - 9,550
   1. Va. (including W.Va.): 2,000 - 3,000 (peak years 1862, 1864).
   2. Ky. and Tenn.: 1,500 - 2,000 (peak in Ky. 1864-65).
   3. Mo.: 2,000 - 2,500 (not counting forces under Porter, Poindexter, and other colonels sent into Mo. in 1862 by Hindman. Perhaps as many as 3,000 men joined them but they were not guerrillas in usual sense of word).
   4. Ark: 500 - 750.
   5. La.: 300 - 500.
   6. Miss. and Ala.: 300
   7. Remaining Southern states: 200 - 300

2. More or less fulltime Union guerrillas (excludes deserters and Unionist refugees): 1,900 - 2,000
   1. Kansas (Jayhawkers, Red Legs): 250
   2. E. Tenn.: 500
   3. N. Ark.: 300
   4. N. Miss. and N. Ala.: 250
   5. Fla.: 300
   6. Ky.: 100
   7. Remaining Southern states: 200 - 300

3. Quasi-guerrillas: Deserters and Unionists resisting Confederate authority, South as a whole: 10,000 - 15,000

An Honorable Defeat This is the story of the four months that saw the surrender of the South and the assassination of Lincoln by Southern partisans. It is also the story of two men who struggled to achieve their own differing visions for the South: Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederate States, who vowed never to surrender; and General John C. Breckinridge, Secretary of War, who hoped pragmatism would save the shattered remnants of the land he loved so dearly.

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