A COLONEL OF KANSAS [Colonel Henry C. Lindsey]



Excerpted from "Collections of the Kansas State Historical Society, 1911-1912", Edited by Geo.

W. Martin, Secretary. 

Vol XII., State Printing Office, Topeka, Kansas 1912, pages 282-292.



submitted by Teresa Lindquist (merope@radix.net); (copyright) 2001 by Teresa Lindquist

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A COLONEL OF KANSAS.



A sketch written for the Kansas State Historical Society, by CAPT. CLAD HAMILTON,(1) of

Topeka.



THE STORY of Colonel Lindsey ought not to be lost. He is a type. There are different types of

soldiers--his is distinctive. He looks like a soldier, acts like a soldier, and is a soldier. He has

come through one of those American life histories which are and always will be interesting.



His father, Elza Lindsey, was a stonemason living in Iowa City, Iowa, where Henry C. Lindsey

was born, on August 27, 1844. The father was a descendant of one of the characteristic old North

Ireland United Presbyterian families, and was himself a member of that church. The mother,

whose maiden name was Elizabeth Gordey, died while Henry was a boy.



Times were not very good in 1856, and the elder Lindsey and his son drove overland in a wagon

to Topeka. They stopped on Fifth street, right about where the Lindsey livery stable is now

located. The boy was sent down to water the horses at the little stream which ran through the low

ground where the police station at Fifth and Jackson streets is now situated.



Later they went to Atchison. There they met Mr. Ward, who owned a farm just west and north of

Topeka. He employed young Lindsey to work on his farm. The boy worked there for some time,

but work ran short and he lost his place. He says that he had two suits of clothes, and sold the

best one to get a little money. He knew another boy, Jimmy Conwell by name, who worked in the

old Record office as a printer's devil. Young Henry told Conwell that he was out of a job and

needed a place,

and asked if he could get work on the paper. Through Jimmy Conwell's influence Henry was

presented to E. G. Ross, the editor of the Record, which afterwards became the Commonwealth,

which in turn became the Daily Capital.



Lindsey was then and is yet profoundly impressed with the merits and character of Edmund G.

Ross. Ross talked with the new boy and told him he would give him a job if he would quit

swearing. The promise was, with reason, somewhat haltingly given, and Lindsey went to work on

the newspaper for a dollar a week and board. This, by the way, was about the correct and usual

rate for a boy's newspaper job in those days. The job looked so good to the boy that for a long

time he was unable to bring himself to ask for any money, fearing that if he did so he would be

discharged. He was only about sixteen years old, and he desperately needed the place. Finally,

when Mr. Ross sent for him one evening, he nervously went into the editorial office with the

feeling that he was to be dismissed. Mr. Ross spoke to him kindly, told him that he had made

rapid advancement, gave him some money and raised his wages to $1.50 a week.



Meanwhile the Civil War was progressing. In August, 1862, the Eleventh Kansas infantry was

organized. Company E was mostly drawn from Shawnee and Lyon counties. Ross was given the

captaincy of this company. When it went to join the regiment at Leavenworth it took five men

from the old Record office. These were Ross, captain; Nathan P. Gregg, second lieutenant;

Jimmy Conwell, John Kitts and H. C. Lindsey, soldiers. Lindsey was too young to be mustered as

a soldier and was taken as a drummer boy. A man and woman stayed behind to edit and print the

paper.



At Leavenworth the regiment was supplied with old Prussian muskets (2) long and heavy. The

command was equipped with a fairly good uniform, and the usual incidents of drill and discipline

common to the early days of a regiment were experienced.



On October 4 the Eleventh was ordered south in haste to oppose the rebel movement north from

Arkansas and Missouri. It marched to Fort Scott in five days, thence by hard marches to the

vicinity of Bentonville. The troops lived largely off of the country, the commissariat having to be

pieced out by soldier expedients.



The regiment came under fire late in November at Cane Hill, where there was some real fighting,

and the printers got into it with the rest of the troops. At Cane Hill a printing office was found,

the type and equipment having been pitched into the street. Soldiers are a busy bunch; they have

an overflow of vitality. If there is no work or fighting to do they seek diversion in numerous

channels. The "pied" printing office was its own suggestion of something to do. The printers

picked up the type, sorted it out, and set up one side of a newspaper--the Buck and Ball. It was

intended to issue this paper within a few days, but about December 7 it became necessary to go

about fifteen miles and engage in that excessively lively engagement known as the battle of

Prairie Grove.



This was one of the real fights of the war. The Confederate forces had struck General Herron

with his force, intending to put him out of business and then attack General Blunt. They met

General Herron at Prairie Grove. General Blunt, learning of the attack, took his men across

country some fifteen miles by a forced march and arrived about three o'clock in the afternoon,

while General Herron's men were desperately pressed. One wing of the Eleventh, in which

Lindsey was serving, was placed right in front of the field pieces, the infantry lying down and the

cannon firing over them. Three or four Texas regiments advanced upon the guns with great

determination. They were led by General Herndon, who directed the attack with heroic energy.

He finally fell and the attack weakened.



The boys from the Record office felt the pressure upon human stamina which comes at such a

time. A man by the name of Judd was shot through the body, and Lindsey and Spencer Wade, of

Topeka, were ordered by the captain to carry him back. It took a power of nerve to get up and

carry that man out of the line while being fired upon with Minie balls on the one side and cannon

balls on the other. They carried the man back, and Lindsey has not yet got over the feeling of

surprise to find that both he and Wade got out of that frightful fire zone without being hit.



After Prairie Grove the Eleventh went back to Cane Hill, set up the type for the other side of the

paper and got out the Buck and Ball.(3)



After this fight the regiment saw some further service in northern Arkansas and Missouri, and

was finally ordered to report to Grant at Vicksburg. For some reason this order was not carried

out, and the regiment was returned to Kansas City. There, by a department order, it was given

mounts(4) and converted into a cavalry regiment, with Thomas Moonlight as colonel and Captain

Ross as one of the majors. The Eleventh as an infantry regiment had ten companies; as a cavalry

regiment it had twelve troops. 



When this reorganization took place young Lindsey, having been a corporal and now a sergeant,

and nineteen years old, was made a second lieutenant.



This is enough to invest him with interest if nothing more were said. A nineteen-year-old boy,

capable of taking care of himself, with the instinct of a soldier, and a second lieutenant of cavalry

in a fighting regiment, is somebody.



Abraham Lincoln was a captain in the Blackhawk war, and he once said that he should never be

more proud of anything than he was of that. The chances are that Abraham Lincoln was not so

proud of being President as Henry Lindsey was of being second lieutenant in the Eleventh

cavalry, with a fighting colonel and a fighting record.



Major Ross was his squadron commander, as well as his friend and fatherly counselor. Indeed,

young Lindsey needed such a friend, because his own father had enlisted in the Seventh Kansas

some time before and had died of fever at Germantown, Tenn.



The newly organized regiment was largely employed in taking care of the guerrillas and

bushwhackers along the Kansas and Missouri border. One troop, company G, was a bodyguard

for General Curtis; one troop was stationed here another there. This service stretched over a good

many miles of prairie, and the young lieutenant was occupied with the duties and diversions

appropriate to his rank.



In the year 1864 the Eleventh saw some very lively service in what is known as the Price raid,

which practically spent its force in October of that year at the Battle of the Blue.



The regiment marched to Holden, Mo., on the Warrensburg road, and thence to Lexington, which

was captured by it on October 18. It held the place only one day. General Price arrived with a

force outnumbering the Kansas troops about ten to one. Price got into the city of Lexington

before the Union cavalry outposts were relieved, and it was necessary for one company, under a

young officer, Captain Palmer by name, to charge right through the town under the very noses of

General Price's staff in order to escape. They did this without the loss of a single man.(5)



There was nothing for the Eleventh cavalry to do but retreat fighting. The march back towards

Kansas City was a run part of the time, varied by an occasional stand for volleys from carbines

fired into the enemy's ranks. Sometimes the mounted column was simply formed into line and

the fire delivered from the horses without dismounting. Whenever favorable ground was reached

a stand was made and the enemy's forces obstructed by a well-directed fire. By reason of its

superior numbers it was, of course, able to flank the cavalrymen out of their positions. The retreat

was continued until two A.M. on the morning of the 20th. The line of retreat was along the south

bank of the Missouri river. At one place there was a creek, the Sni, of considerable dimensions,

flowing into the river. It was crossed by one of those old-fashioned covered wooden bridges

which look like a long house open at both ends. Word had got out that General Shelby of Price's

army might be expected to flank our column at this bridge. The bridge did not look any too

secure. However, our troops marched rapidly across and got over safely.



Lieutenant Lindsey, with about forty men, was left at the bridge with instructions to burn it. He

got a lot of brush together and piled it into the bridge and set fire to it just as Shelby's forces

approached. The detachment made its escape under fire.



Price's army was a strong and efficient force. It was moving rapidly from Missouri in the

direction of Kansas City and Kansas. Great alarm was felt in the city and along the border. There

was a feeling in some quarters of an inability to successfully resist the rebel force. The work of

the Eleventh cavalry under Colonel Moonlight,(6) when falling back, was one requiring real

military ability. It was not desired to stand until the regiment should be cut to pieces. It was

desirable to delay the advancing strong force by just as much fighting as could be successfully

done. The determined courage and obstinacy of Colonel Moonlight(7) was a powerful factor in

the successful effect of this delaying fight.



Finally our forces reached the Little Blue, where they formed for a more determined resistance.

From a favorable piece of ground the Union troops drove the enemy back, causing them

considerable loss. Lindsey was then acting as battalion adjutant to Major Ross, and Ross had two

horses shot under him during the fight.



During one phase of the fight at the battle of the Blue the regiment was for a time entirely out of

ammunition. The enemy was immediately in their front. Colonel Moonlight directed the soldiers

to stay in their positions and cheer. By his splendid personal courage and the force of his

presence he was able to bold this line under these circumstances. And when the regiment fell

back, even that was done in good order.



Lindsey has a very distinct recollection of a fine Colorado regiment which rode to the front to

take the place of the Eleventh for a time. The regiment was elegantly uniformed and equipped.

The men wore long gauntlets and presented a fine appearance. As they rode by they called out to

the Kansas troopers in a half-bantering way, "Where are they?" The Kansas men, who had been

in close contact with the enemy for two or three days, responded with a hearty assurance, "Just

keep on going; you will find 'em."  It is but just to say that the Colorado men did find the enemy

without having long to wait.(8)



During the fighting Captain N. P. Gregg of Lindsey's company was wounded, and Lindsey was

ordered to his troop to command the left platoon.



At Big Blue on October 23, the Eleventh again took part in the fighting, and from here the

regiment made a remarkably hard and rapid march to Fort Scott, making as much as sixty-five

miles per day on one occasion. From Fort Scott it marched to the Arkansas river between Fort

Gibson and Fort Smith, and in November went to Fort Smith with General Blunt, returning to

Paola on December 12 with the men and horses well worn out.



Shortly afterward the regiment was ordered to Fort Riley, whence, in February, 1865, two troops

were sent to Fort Larned, and the balance of the regiment started under orders for Fort Kearny,

Neb. The march was an exceedingly hard one, made under conditions of snow and rain and cold

winter weather. The men were not sufficiently clothed. Many of them were on foot. Bridges had

been washed out, and it was necessary to rebuild in several places.



At Fort Kearny the regiment stopped two days to shoe horses and draw supplies. Then the march

to Fort Laramie, Wyo., was begun. On this march there was a great lack of firewood. The

regiment reached Fort Laramie April 9, and from there proceeded to Platte Bridge, where

headquarters were to be made and troops distributed to protect telegraph lines and hold the

Indians in check.



In June, 1865, five troops, including the one of which Lindsey was lieutenant, marched to Fort

Halleck for the purpose of affording protection to the mail route and to general travel. In this

district the Indians had driven off almost all the horses. It was a danger zone, and it was often

necessary for the soldiers to drive the stages. The work was dangerous and hazardous at all times,

although Lindsey's troop saw little, if any, fighting. In August the various troops of the regiment

were ordered to Fort Leavenworth, where they were mustered out in September.



Army life looked attractive to the young cavalry lieutenant. He decided he would like to try for a

commission in the regular army. Immediately following the Civil War the regular army was short

of officers, and the chances of getting in were exceptionally good. Lindsey was satisfied that he

could pass the examination and secure a commission. He had fully made up his mind to try for it,

when some one suggested that it would be necessary for him to secure the endorsement of his

United States senator. Nothing easier. Major Ross, his patron and friend, who had been almost

like a father to him in the army, had in the meantime become United States senator from Kansas.

Lindsey set out to call upon the senator with a light heart. The young lieutenant, a fine horseman,

a crack soldier, with an excellent war record and just twenty-one years old, felt that everything

must go the way he wanted it.



He called upon Senator Ross and asked him for the necessary endorsement. Ross said, "No!"

This was paralyzing. "It is not because I do not love you that I refuse this endorsement," said the

senator. "I refuse it because I do love you. You know, Henry, what is done in the army in time of

peace. The life is one of card playing and drinking, and I care too much for you to wish you to go

into it."



This was the thought and speech of a man of obviously fine fiber, and one who subsequently was

to suffer a very real martyrdom for acting upon his undoubted convictions of public duty.



The young cavalryman was of course disappointed, but disappointment is a feeling to which a

soldier does not long give way when he can ride and shoot--and when he is twenty-one. Lindsey

liked a horse. He had been riding one for three or four years. A horse's good service sometimes

meant life to the rider. He wanted to get into some business where he could have horses about

him. Nothing could suggest itself more readily than the livery business; he bought out the stables

of Tom Butler on Fifth street, in Topeka, where he and his father had picketed the horses nine

years before.



Times were hard, business languished; the young business man was not getting rich though he

did not lose all--especially he did not lose his nerve. In 1867 the Indians became restless and

began making trouble on the Kansas frontier. Troops were needed, and it was decided to raise a

battalion of volunteer cavalry in Kansas for service against the Indians. Governor Crawford was

the executive. He took hold of the work like an old hand; he knew what to do and how to do it.

He had himself been a distinguished cavalry officer during the war. Among other things he knew

Kansas soldiers. He offered Lindsey a captaincy in the new regiment. Lindsey needed the job and

needed the money, and he had learned the trade. He raised a troop and was mustered in.



The history of the Eighteenth Kansas was one of marching and patrolling the border; there was

not much fighting. Lindsey's company had a small fight north of Fort Hays, in which it had

several men wounded. While these were being sent back to Fort Hays they and the men with

them were caught by the Indians and killed and scalped. The service was that which is common

to most cavalry regiments in Indian wars--pursuit and menace to a swiftly-moving foe. The

regiment was mustered out November 15, 1867, having been in service since July 15.(9)



It was during the service of this regiment that the quartermaster sergeant in Lindsey's troop found

that there was a considerable shortage in the arms issued to the men. This is a condition which

company and troop commanders are often obliged to face. Sabers had been thrown away;

carbines had been lost. All such equipment is, of course, charged to the captain of the company,

and by him in turn to the individual men. Lindsey, like a good troop commander, had a fatherly

feeling for the men and he did not wish to have a large percentage of their wages used in paying

for equipment lost in hard service. During the service the troop had lost a large number of men

from cholera.(10) Upon a consultation with the sergeant, a way was found by which the lost arms

and equipment could be charged to the deceased soldiers. Returns and reports were accordingly

gotten up which charged these departed souls with the missing articles. The sergeant took the

report over to the office of the battalion commander, Maj. H. L. Moore, now of Lawrence. The

major began looking over the reports. Presently he said, "Sergeant, ask the captain to come over

to my quarters." The sergeant did as he was directed. The captain walked into the major's quarters

and stood at attention. The major was still reading the ordnance return. Finally he looked up and

inquired, "Captain, do you think those dead men took all of those arms?" The captain said that

was what the return showed. The major smiled and dismissed him without further comment. This

closed the incident, and those unfortunate dead men must bear whatever responsibility there was

for the loss of those rusty sabers and those now obsolete carbines.



In 1868 another volunteer regiment from Kansas was organized for the purpose of fighting the

Indians; this was known as the Nineteenth Kansas cavalry. Governor Crawford was still in the

executive chair, and ultimately resigned and took command of the regiment himself. At the

organization of the body the governor sent for Lindsey and offered to make him a major in the

regiment.



Lindsey's explanation of why he, a natural soldier, did not desire to accept the majority is naive.

The regiment was expected to campaign against the Indians in winter. He had seen this sort of

service, and he did not feel like again going into the army and fighting Indians at that season.



Upon digging around into his inner consciousness, however, it is found that a girl from

Pennsylvania had appeared in Topeka, and as a result Lindsey had temporarily lost all interest in

wars and warriors. He told Governor Crawford that he did not wish to accept a commission to go

against the Indians in cold weather. The governor did not receive this as very much of an excuse.

He said that he wanted Lindsey in his regiment and that he had to go. The captain then told the

governor that he wanted to go east to see the young lady who was to become Mrs. Lindsey, and

for that reason he was willing to let some other fellow have the desirable commission. The

governor, then a bachelor, said that under the circumstances he might just as well give up, so he

no longer pressed Lindsey to go into the regiment.



Accordingly the captain went east to see Mary Stewart, and allowed this opportunity for further

military experience to pass, and Mary Stewart soon afterward became the captain's wife.



The serious and tragic incident of Senator Ross's vote against the impeachment of Johnson

greatly stirred all Kansas, Lindsey with the rest. People were in a mood to lynch the man whom

they regarded as recreant to his trust. It was said that he had been bribed.



Lindsey knew Ross--knew that he was incapable of a dishonorable or cowardly act. He had seen

Ross riding along the battle front under heavy fire, and two horses had been shot from under him

in Lindsey's view. He was a man of such morality that he even sought to influence a young

orphan boy against the possibly not very important vice of swearing. He had kept the same boy

out of the army for fear it might degrade his character. He was honest beyond question. His

character was such that he must have done his duty not only in the face of physical

danger--which was easy-- but in the face of political martyrdom and social ostracism. Lindsey

knew.



When the outcry against Ross was at its height he had two friends in Topeka to defend him with

energy and to stand up for him with courage. Henry Lindsey and Charles Whiting knew Ross and

believed in him. They voiced their belief in his moral guiltlessness at a time when it was almost

necessary to defend an expression of such a belief with coats off and clenched fists.



One can scarcely have anything to do with the military in Kansas without becoming identified

with politics. Captain Lindsey was no exception. He was active and courageous--a good sport.

He hurrahed for his friends and pushed them along. In the seventies he was appointed city

marshal of Topeka, and subsequently under a change of law was elected to that position by the

people. Afterwards he became county commissioner of Shawnee county, in which position he

served six years. Later, in the political upheaval which resulted in the election of Governor Glick

over Governor St. John, who was a candidate for a third term, Lindsey went from the Republican

party over to the Democratic party, with which he has since been prominently identified.



In 1893, under the police commission system which then existed, Lindsey was appointed chief of

police of Topeka under the Lewelling administration. While holding this position he performed

an act which created a great stir and sensation. In the language peculiar to police circles, he

"pulled" the Topeka Club. This organization was then, as it is now, composed of prominent

business and professional men at the capital. The chances are that in 1893 at least ninety per cent

of these men were Republicans. In those days political feeling was intense. The Republican

feeling of toleration for the Populist government was practically a minus quantity. In Topeka the

new governor and his administration seemed almost intruders.

The new police commission under Lewelling intimated to the chief of police that the clubs were

doing a great deal of liquor business, and incidentally made some suggestion about the Topeka

Club. The chief touched a button and called in a police sergeant. Within a very few minutes a

detachment of policemen were on their way to the club, and shortly thereafter eight or nine

prominent citizens were led to the police station and booked for violating the prohibitory law. A

large amount of intoxicating liquors found at the club were loaded into the patrol wagon and also

taken to the station.



A conviction in the police court resulted. This was reversed in the district court, and subsequently

Lindsey was sued for false imprisonment by the men who had been arrested. One or more of the

suits went to trial and resulted in a hung jury. After a while, when everybody cooled off to some

extent, the cases were compromised and dismissed. The incident cost Lindsey about $1300. He

paid it cheerfully, and has no feeling of bitterness about the matter. He was rather gratified in

later days when the supreme court enjoined the club from allowing liquors to be kept at its

clubhouse.



In the meantime the livery business was going along quietly, making the owner a little money

and keeping the wolf not only away from the door, but entirely out of the yard.



In February, 1898, the Spaniards blew up the Maine--that's what we thought. There is a good deal

of doubt about it now among engineers and other technical men.(11) Whatever the facts about

the explosion, there were lots of fellows between the ages of sixteen and sixty-four who were

ready to put on some blue clothes and take a long-barreled gun and go out and shoot at perfect

strangers. They always had liked blue clothes--and lots of people have a natural hankering for

firearms which is readily aroused.



From the standpoint of a good many of us the state was again in the hands of the enemy.

Governor Leedy, a pronounced Populist, was governor. Be it said to his credit, that he did about

what other honest and patriotic men do under such circumstances. Such men do not undertake to

make any war a Populist war, a Republican war, or a Democratic war. They rather undertake

simply to carry out the purposes of the whole country, and that was what Governor Leedy did.

Upon the declaration of war with Spain three infantry regiments were to be formed. The governor

sought to divide them equitably among the political groups in Kansas.



Governor Leedy and Lindsey had not been affiliated in any friendly manner whatever. Their

relations were really of an almost formal sort. Lindsey had not seen the governor for a year,

though living at the capital all the time.



As soon as the military program was outlined Leedy went to see Lindsey and offered him the

command of one of the regiments. Lindsey stated that his business required his attention, and that

while a colonelcy was too big a thing to refuse, he did not covet the place. Leedy told him that he

had it to take. He did take it.



The Twenty-second Kansas infantry was a fine marching regiment. It was composed of young,

strong Kansas men, the sons of soldiers--themselves soldiers by instinct. The regiment went into

camp at Camp Alger, West Virginia. Its duties were simply those of initial discipline and drill. It

had one long, hard march. Colonel Lindsey speaks of the experience as rather one of an outing.

We know, however, that the regiment was a regiment of soldiers, and that it was fit and ready for

active service had it been called upon. Its commander had at intervals been a soldier and an

officer from boyhood to mature manhood, and was by nature and training fit to command.



A good story, isn't it? The life of any human being is interesting. The least of mankind has a

struggle or a turn here and there in his life which, if told in simple words, must attract our

interest. The life of this old Kansas colonel, begun as a friendless boy, developed through the

incidents of the march, the bivouac, the riding and the fighting of the border and the plains, can

not fail to attract our sympathy and interest.



You may see him some day. If you should pass down Fifth street from the avenue to Jackson

street, you are likely to see a square-shouldered, good-sized man standing in front of a livery

stable with a long cheroot between his teeth. He has somewhat the dress and air of a soldier; he

has the face of a soldier; he has the general look of one. It will be safe to

address him as "Colonel"--though probably you will hear those familiar with him (and there are

many) call him "Hank." It will be worth your while to look twice at him, for he has a history. If it

is not the history of "the captains and the kings," it is, at all events, the history of a man, and one

who has had the strength to take part in strenuous actions and stirring events.



---



NOTE 1.--[biography of Capt. Clad Hamilton] 



NOTE 2.--The regiment had been waiting for Enfield rifles, but when the order came to join the

Army of the Frontier the only infantry arms at Fort Leavenworth "were a lot of Fremont's

Prussian muskets, manufactured in 1818, of antique pattern, extra large caliber, and one-fourth

heavier than either the Enfield or Springfield musket."--Report of Adjutant General of Kansas.

1861-'65, reprint, p. 200.



NOTE 3.--The State Historical Society has a copy of the Buck and Ball in its collections. It is a

four-page sheet printed on lined foolscap. Under the caption runs this sentiment: "Kansas is pisin

to the hull on 'em." The paper bears date Saturday, December 6, 1862, but a paragraph on the

inside says: "The outside of this paper was printed on the 6th inst., but owing to the great battle

of the 7th it has been impossible for us to issue our paper before the 15th inst." The outside

contains a brief history of the Eleventh Kansas to date; the inside has accounts of the battles of

Cane Hill and Prairie Grove, also Hindman's address to his troops, dated December 4, in which

he says that the army of the enemy is composed of "Pin Indians, free negroes, Southern toties,

Kansas Jayhawkers and hired Dutch cutthroats."



NOTE 4.--"The order mounting the regiment, and the subsequent one changing it to cavalry,

were both intended by General Schofield as complimentary and a reward for service heretofore

rendered, the change being earnestly desired by nearly the entire regiment."--Report of Adjutant

General of Kansas, 1861-'65, reprint. p. 205,



NOTE 5.--Capt. H. E. Palmer had with him, in the charge through Lexington to join Blunt's

army, his own company, A, together with twenty-two scouts; company F of the Eleventh, with

John G. Lindsey commanding; Capt. Win. Green, with company E of the Second Colorado, and

sixty-five men of a Missouri cavalry regiment--250 men in all.-- See Kansas Historical

Collections, vol. 9, p. 435, "Company A, Eleventh Kansas Regiment, in the Price Raid," by H. E.

Palmer; also, Report of Adjutant General of Kansas, 1861-'65, reprint, p. 206, which says the

command consisted of companies A, B and F.



NOTE 6.--For biographical sketch of Col. Thomas Moonlight, see Kansas Historical Collections,

vol. 8, p. 353.



NOTE 7.--Col. Moonlight's report of the part taken by the Eleventh Kansas in the campaign

against Price may be found in the Report of the Adjutant General of Kansas. 1861-'65, reprint, p.

215.



NOTE 8.--This regiment was the Second Colorado cavalry.



NOTE 9.--"In four months this squadron marched 2200 miles, was nearly wrecked at the outset

by cholera, fought Indians several times, lived chiefly on buffalo, lost about ten per cent of its

members by death--two out of thirteen officers--and at the end of four months its muster rolls

were seventeen per cent short of its original strength. Its services were substantial if not

distinguished, and both Sheridan and Custer commended it highly. Its history abounded in

dramatic and tragic elements, and if told would fill a volume. The ghost of its long-faded trail

haunts almost every county west of Ellsworth. It is unfortunate that so interesting a story should

remain untold and its landmarks be lost."-- James Albert Hadley, in Kansas Historical

Collections, vol. 10, p. 429.



NOTE 10.--See Kansas Historical Collections, vol. 6, p. 35.



NOTE 11.--The following report of the joint army and navy board appointed to inquire into the

destruction of the "Maine" has been given out: "The board finds that the injuries to the bottom of

the 'Maine' were caused by the explosion of a charge of a low form of explosive exterior to the

ship between frames Nos. 28 and 31, strake B, port side. This resulted in igniting and exploding

the contents of the 6-inch reserve magazine, A-14-M, said contents including a large quantity of

black powder. The more or less complete explosion of the contents of the remaining forward

magazine followed. The magazine explosions resulted in the destruction of the vessel." This

report sustains the findings of the Sampson board of inquiry, which investigated the affair in

1898, immediately after the destruction of the battleship.