James Buel - Life and marvelous adventures of Wild Bill, the Scout

In less than one hour after the fight was over, the stage from Denver arrived, full of passengers, some of whom were thus introduced for the first time to the desperation of Western life. Wild Bill rallied sufficiently to tell the story of his dreadful encounter with ten of the most desperate men that ever cut a man’s throat or robbed a stable. Every attention that could be shown was given Bill. He was too badly cut and shot to admit of removal, but a surgeon was sent for from Manhattan, and old Mrs. Watkins, who lived within five miles of the station, came down as soon as she heard the news, and volunteered her services to nurse him. Bill’s wounds consisted of a fracture of the skull, three gashes on the breast, and a cut to the bone on his left forearm. There were seven balls in his legs and body, and there was scarcely a place on his face, limbs or body that was not black from bruises he had received. It would seem impossible that a man could survive such injuries, but, nevertheless, in six months Bill was out again, and in less than one year he was as sound physically as ever.

It is not necessary to say that the McCandlas boys never entered the Confederate army, and the manner in which they left the service they had been in so long was cause for thanks. The people of that section worshiped Bill as no other man. He had civilized the neighborhood.

After recovery from his wounds, Wild Bill left Rock Creek Station and went to Leavenworth, where shortly after his arrival, he was appointed wagon master of a train Gen. Jno. C. Fremont had ordered to Sedalia, Missouri. On the third day out and as they were about going into camp for the night, the train was attacked by a company of Confederates and several of the wagons burned and the mules run off. Bill could offer little resistance, as he had less than a dozen men with him, all of whom surrendered at the beginning of the attack. Nevertheless, being mounted on an excellent horse, he gave battle single handed, and when called upon to surrender, his reply was: “Come and take me.” Knowing that Col. Jameson was at Kansas City, he started for that place, pursued by more than fifty of the Confederates, who fired their pistols at him until they were distanced, but he escaped without a scratch; not so his pursuers, for four of the more advanced ones fell victims to his unerring aim.

Upon his arrival in Kansas City Bill at once reported to Col. Jameson, who immediately dispatched two companies of his command to the scene of the first attack, and on the following day succeeded in recapturing most of the stock and repairing the damage to the wagons, so that the train was able to proceed to Sedalia. His valor in resisting the Confederates was acknowledged by his appointment as Brigade Wagon Master with Gen. Curtis’ army, and, while serving in this capacity, he engaged in the battle of Pea Ridge, where he performed most valuable service as a sharp-shooter, killing no less than thirty-five men, it is stated, from a single station.

After Bill’s complete recovery he returned to the states and volunteered his services to Gen. Curtis, who had command of the army in Missouri, as a scout and spy. He was enrolled in the early part of 1863, and at once sent upon a dangerous mission. Gen. Price was preparing to enter Missouri, and it became very necessary for Gen. Curtis to have reliable information of the intentions of the Confederate General. Bill went to Kansas City, where he was furnished a horse, and allowed to exercise his judgment in reaching the enemy’s lines. Accordingly, he rode through Kansas and the Indian Territory in order to reach Arkansas from the south. He assumed the name of Bill Barnes, and enlisted in a regiment of mounted rangers at a small town south of Little Rock. The regiment was attached to Price’s command, and shortly afterwards he was made one of Price’s orderlies. This gave him all the facilities desired to obtain information, which he managed, in many ways, to communicate to Gen. Curtis. In 1864 Price began his retreat from Missouri and made his last stand by forming a junction with Shelby on Sugar creek, about twenty miles below Newtonia, in McDonald county. Gen. Curtis had, by forced marches, reached the creek at nearly the same time, and both forces were preparing for battle. It was now time for Bill to leave the Confederates, but no opportunity was presented. A river, or creek, lay between the two armies, and any effort to cross would certainly be detected.

On the 23d of October, and the day Bill formed the intention of making a bold effort to cross the lines, Gen. Price directed him to carry orders to Gen. Shelby instructing him where and when to make the attack on Curtis, and how to conduct the movement. This instruction made matters worse for Bill, and he determined to take the chances of life or death in evading the Confederate army and placing the orders in Gen. Curtis’ hands. He rode furiously back and lost no time in challenging a bragadocio sergeant to ride with him, for a wager, nearest the enemy’s lines. The sergeant tried to back out, but the boys began to hoot him so that their respective horses were wagered as to who could cross the open space and ride down to the creek. The two started off on a dash and soon the bullets from the Union forces were whistling around them. Bill kept as far from his partner as possible, and made his horse rear and plunge in order to attract the attention of the Union forces. They rode down to the creek together, when the Union men discovered Bill and shouted to him. This aroused the suspicion of the sergeant, who attempted to draw his pistol, but Bill’s eye was on him, and in a flash a ball went crashing through his brain. Bill grabbed the bit of the dead sergeant’s horse and plunged into the stream, which at the time was considerably swollen. The Confederates now saw what was up, and although the Union forces commenced a brisk fire, the Confederates seemed determined to kill Bill, the bullets falling around him like hail; but he managed to reach the opposite shore with his own and the dead sergeant’s horse without receiving any injury. Bill was taken into Gen. Curtis’ tent and afterwards publicly thanked for his daring and valuable services.

Gen. Curtis continued pushing southward, and it again became necessary for Bill to enter the enemy’s lines. There were three things particularly in Bill’s favor as a scout and spy. First of all, he was daring beyond example; second, he was an unerring shot, and third, he could change his appearance so radically as to defy detection; add to this a native cunning and adaptability, and his success and escapes are not so remarkable.

The second time he was sent into the lines he was accompanied by Nat. Tuckett, one of the dearest friends Bill ever had. They took a circuitous route like the one adopted by Bill in reaching Price’s army, and attached themselves to Kirby Smith at Austin, Texas, and soon afterwards moved north with Smith’s army into Arkansas. Curtis’ forces were not very strong, and while deploying down the Arkansas river they began to feel the strength of the Confederates. At length the main body of both armies came in view and stretched their lines of battle opposite each other about one thousand yards apart. A battery of ten-pounders was stationed on a small knoll to the left, which was kept playing on the Confederates, but evidently with little effect, for they did not change positions and appeared willing that the Union forces should expend their fire, for they did not return it except occasionally, apparently to let the Union forces know they were waiting for the attack. This condition of affairs continued for more than an hour, when suddenly two horsemen were seen to leave the ranks of the Confederates and ride furiously towards the Union lines. They had not gone a hundred yards before a detachment of cavalry started in pursuit and a rapid fire was commenced at the two riders. A company of Union men was deployed to intercept the pursuers, as it was evident that the two were trying to effect their escape. On they came, the pursued and pursuers, until the two reached a ditch about twenty feet wide and ten feet deep. All but two of the pursuers had been distanced, and when the pursued came to the ditch one of them cleared it with a bound, but the other fell dead under his horse from a pistol shot fired by the two advanced pursuers. The Union forces could then plainly see that the two trying to escape were Wild Bill and Nat. Tuckett. When his partner fell, Bill turned in his saddle and fired two quick shots, and both the advanced pursuers fell dead and their horses galloped riderless into the Union lines.