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The Great Expedition

The Nemaha Courier, Seneca
Thursday, August 25, 1864

The Great Expedition – Not an Official Report

We recently paid a visit to the buffalo country, intending at the same time to make a friendly raid upon the “bold red men of the forest,” as Artemus Ward would call them. But they wan’t at home – we didn’t see them – the pesky Injuns – and they didn’t invite us to come again.

Our important military commission placed us in the position of High Private in the rear ranks, thus giving us the advantage of always having our forces between us and the fire of the enemy, a mode of tactics which to officers holding so high a commission may appear new, but which nevertheless places one farthest from the front of danger!

The end of our first day’s (the 12th inst.) march found us at Marysville, not abundantly “covered over with glory,” but considerably besmeared with dirt. – On the day after a reconnaissance was had in which a hog, which had had the impudence to appear on the streets, was attacked and badly defeated, and finally so badly cut up as to become an easy and quite a palatable prey to our devouring army. The 14th saw us on our “winding way,” with that victorious éclat and a military sway which must have equaled the enthusiasm which first inspired the profound proposition:

“Were you ne’er a school boy, and did you never train,
And feel that swelling of the heart, you ne’er will feel again?”

On this day some horses were pressed into service and if the same was not active it was not for want of application of whip and spur. At Hollinberg’s in Washington county, a short engagement ensued in which the cornfield was somewhat shattered, and the hard and leathery shots from the “dough pan” battery were received by the ranks without apparent injury. Five miles farther on and we were at 17 Mile Point, where we camped for the night, the “dough-pan” battery now severely playing upon us, taking effect as usual, in the neck and stomach. Our route the next morning lay west by a dim and nearly abandoned road, on the “war-path” for the big bend of the Republican river. Crossed the Little Blue, camped for dinner, engaged a beef steer, which succumbed after a few rounds. Here Capt. Thompson’s company (16th Kansas) passed us for the second and last time on the route. Hitched up and reached Blocker’s on Salt Creek at night. A little rain throughout the afternoon and a heavy shower through the night. So much wet as to render the General’s boots almost impossible to draw on, causing confusion and detention of the command and necessitating a soft-soaping expedient to get the proper leg into the right boot, and so on. Here we, individually and collectively and editorially and militia-ously we, together with “another man,” “pressed” a fine hen’s nest, found in the straw covering a barn-shed, and containing about two dozen of the choicest kind of hen-fruit. We immediately confiscated the same, not even reporting the seizure to the Quartermaster. As a military necessity we thought the act justifiable, and we cannot but be conscious that our conduct will be sustained and commended whenever our strategy and promptness in the affair shall have been properly detailed and represented at Gov’t Headquarters.

[On the] 16th, [we] reached Ferguson’s for dinner; killed a hog which had been confiscating the cornfield. Here Maj. Taylor’s recruits and a portion of a company under Lieut.-Col. Hollinberg came up, making the command some 300 men. Passed thro’ some beautiful farming country on this day, along Mill Creek and its tributaries. As on other portions of our route the houses were all deserted, the settlers evidently having left in a panic, leaving their crops uncared for but taking most of their household goods and stock, though no depredations had been committed nor the Indians probably been anywhere in the vicinity. The principal part of the command lost the trail of the advance, or “staff,” late in the afternoon, and the horses being tired out, camped soon after dark upon the open prairie in the cold rain. We rallied, traveled a few miles and camped again under no better circumstances. Were rallied again and after a distance of ten or twelve miles, traveled thro’ a beating rain and unutterably tall swearing, reached timber on Rose Creek at 4 o’clock Wednesday morning, where we breakfasted, slept and “dryed off” and camped for the day.

Here some buffalo hunting and scouting was put in motion and Indians reported seen, but the latter proved a hoax. Politics was introduced at Headquarters, our jolly brigade Quartermaster and acting brigade Surgeon and prospective Regimental Surgeon, and the Washington county Col., generally leading off in the discussion, the main features of which was excessive “Lane on the brain,” and a careful avoidance of reflections upon Tom Carney. The remarks of the said Surgeon were not so deftly hidden but what they betrayed concern of matters in this county and were farther noticeable by being garnished with choice epithets stolen from his mutual and admiring friend, Sol Miller. Early morning of the 18th found us en route, and travel to the distance of some 15 miles brought us to the Republican [river]. The water of the Republican is clear and quite cool, the channel gravelly, and wide for the amount of water, making it of very slight depth. The banks are sandy and skirted with occasional clumps of trim oaks with but very little underbrush.

With the exception of rare sport with the buffaloes, gathered upon a “thousand hills,” and the loss of three horses in the several chases, (one belonging to the General) nothing of interest or importance transpired.