erest or barren of results worth setting down.
If it should be, however, it will be easy enough to stop writing, or expunge that which is worthless.
But our new Commander, Colonel W. A. Phillips, I know is an able and an accomplished officer, and it is not likely that he will allow us to languish in inglorious inactivity.
No officer of the first division has impressed me more favorably.
The first time that I ever saw him was at the battle of Locust Grove, near Grand Saline, the 2d of last July, when we captured Colonel Clarkson and his command of one hundred and ten men. Even Colonel Jewell, who was also present on that occasion, did not display more conspicuous bravery than Colonel Phillips.
The night's march, the short and decisive engagement, just at the dawn of that lovely summer's morning, will be remembered by those who participated, while they live.
Colonel Phillips received much praise for the ability with which he handled his brigade at Indian Creek, Neosho, and Newtonia
as it probably will sometime in the future.
The Cherokees, however, have made such progress in civilization, and have also been such staunch and reliable friends of the whites for nearly a century, with one or two unimportant exceptions, that they are not likely to be disturbed in the peaceable possession of their country under the existing order of things.
As a people, they might have been regarded as wealthy before the war. When we came into this section and the country above — here last July and August, we saw fine herds of cattle and ponies grazing upon the prairies, or standing in the cool waters of shady and peaceful flowing streams, the very pictures of rural life in a beautiful and happy country.
The pictures were of course incomplete, for we nowhere saw in the background or foreground happy maidens tripping along and attending to their dairy or household duties.
Nor did we hear happy voices or see any of those desirable features of country life, familiar to those whose ea
o dark and the road so dim that we gave the reins to our horses, and were guided by the general course we were marching.
None of us had been over this path before, and there was no pole star to inform us how far, at any time, we were deviating from our proper course.
But when the storm clouds of the night had passed over and daylight came, we found that we had kept the most direct route, and that we were near Locust Grove, where we had a fight with Colonel Clarkson's command, the 2d of last July, and captured him with one hundred and ten of his soldiers, nearly all of whom were white men. We also captured his baggage and supply trains, in all upwards of one hundred wagons and about three hundred animals.
Colonel William Weir, Tenth Kansas infantry, who commanded the expedition, marched us two days and nights, and we struck the enemy just at dawn-some of the brightest stars were still shining-and we had him surrounded before he knew of our presence.
We reached their camp right on th
g the day, and the most recent signs of the enemy we saw were his trails going south, probably from the field of his defeat at Cabin Creek, on the 2nd instant.
It was deemed advisable, however, to move cautiously until we passed Cabin Creek, as it was not known but that General Cabell might have crossed Grand River at Grand Saline, with his force, with the view of attacking the train on its return.
Flat Rock is familiar to most of us, as we were encamped here two weeks in the latter part of July, last year.
It was from this point that the Indian expedition, returned to Southern Kansas, from whence we marched to Lone Jack via Fort Scott, a distance of over two hundred miles.
We met General Blunt, July 9th, with a force of about four hundred men, under command of Colonel Judson, of the Sixth Kansas cavalry.
He also had two twelve pounder mountain howitzers attached to the sixth, and two six pound field pieces, under Captain E. A. Smith.
He left Fort Scott only three days ago, a