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Wiley Britton, Memoirs of the Rebellion on the Border 1863., Chapter 4: (search)
rth 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, last September. On other o
Wiley Britton, Memoirs of the Rebellion on the Border 1863., Chapter 12: (search)
er and lightning the next morning on the battle-ground of Locust Grove account of the battle and of the capture of Colonel Clarkson's command passing over the ground of an exciting chase of last year camp in the forest on the look out for the encame, 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 wt up further, as our animals were too much jaded to overtake their fresh horses. Standwaitie was on his way to join Colonel Clarkson at Locust Grove, and was taking it leisurely. But, as we continued our march, we reached Locust Grove first, and captured Clarkson before he had time to receive reinforcements. Sunday morning, May 3d, as soon as the earliest rays of the sun streaked the east and the stars were disappearing, we were up and on the march. The day was lovely, but the country see
Wiley Britton, Memoirs of the Rebellion on the Border 1863., Chapter 16: (search)
r the enemy to surprise them. In the afternoon of Wednesday, July 1st, our train and escort arrived on the heights on the north side of Cabin Creek. The stream, where the old military road crosses it, runs nearly directly east, perhaps inclining a little to the southeast, and empties into the Grand River not more than three miles distant. The topography of that section is perfectly familiar to me, as we were encamped there one year ago, having moved there shortly after the capture of Colonel Clarkson, referred to in a previous chapter. We were in that immediate vicinity nearly two weeks. It, was a good point for a camp, and our reconnoitering parties were daily sent out through the Nation to the south and southeast of our main camp. But to return to the recent operations at Cabins Creek. A little skirmishing occurred a few miles north of the heights, near the crossing of the military road, but the resistance of the enemy was not sufficient to cause a halt of our troops and tra