Battle of Cynthiana

article from the Boone County Recorder in 1905

The following article by W.C. Sleet, in the form of a letter-to-the-editor was published

on a weekly basis in 'The Boone County Recorder' throughout the month of August, 1905.

W.C. SLEET was a 1st Lieutenant with the 18th Kentucky Infantry. Many of the soldiers of that regiment were from Robertson County and Nicholas County. In his letters to the editor, regarding the Battle of Cynthiana, he speaks of his own regiment, the 18t, h and of the 7th Kentucky Calvary of which many soldiers were from Nicholas County.

To the Editor of the Recorder:

By request I will endeavor to fight over again, in a bloodless way, the first battle of Cynthiana. Little was said of that action at the time and the historian has since passed over it as something to small and insignificant for notice, yet the fact remains that the Government forces were at that time blundering along and stumbling over small things than Col. Morgan and the battle of Cynthiana. And in my opinion and those who know best, with numbers and disadvantages considered, that was one of the most sanguinary and hotly contested actions of the Civil War, and the result should reflect great credit upon those engaged and especially upon the management and heroic conduct of the officer commanding, and if in those days we had adopted the custom practiced in recent wars when all who can climb a fence, ride a horse, or swim a river are in line for promotion, Col. Landram would have come out of this battle with well-merited stars; for certainly few offices could have handled the men, staid as long, inflicted the punishment and had enough men left to tell the story.

The first battle of Cynthiana was fought on the 17th day of July, 1862, between the Confederate forces comprising three regiments composed of Kentuckians, Tennesseans, Georgians, Mississippians, Texans and South Carolinians, reported by Capt. Austin, Morgans Adjutant General, at twenty-two hundred strong, with two pieces of artillery commanded by Col. John H. Morgan, and the Union forces comprised of about 45 men of the 18th Ky. Infantry and the following home guards: Sixty men under Capt. J.R. McClintock; 50 men under Capt. Lafe Wilson of Cynthiana; Capt. John S. Arthur of Newport with 50 men; Capt. J.J. Wright of Cincinnati with 40 men, Capt. Pepper of Bracken county with 35 men; and 75 men of the 7th Ky. Cavalry (note many of the soldiers from the 7th were from Nicholas County) raw recruits under Maj. W.O. Smith and one brass 12-pounder and small artillery squad under Capt. Billy Glass, of Cincinnati; amounting in the aggregate to about 340 men, only partly armed and disciplined, all under the command of Lieutenant Col. John J. Landram, of Warsaw, Ky.

That we may full understand the situation when we reach it, it is necessary to mention a few of the incidences leading up to the battle. The 18th Ky. Volunteer Infantry was mustered into the service and assigned to duty along the Kentucky Central Rail Road with instructions to guard the bridges and to protect the railroads interests, covering the entire distance between Covington and Lexington, with headquarters at the latter place.

Our own Col. Landram was stationed at Cynthiana with a battalion of the 18th Ky., numbering about 300 men. I was stationed with about 30 men at Kisers Station, about twelve miles south of Cynthiana and eight miles from Paris. My orders were to guard the bridges spanning the Kiser and Stoner creeks. On the 14th of July I received notice from Col. Landram that Morgan had entered the State and was moving this way; that his object of attack was evidently Paris, for the purpose of cutting communication between Cincinnati and Lexington.

On the morning of the 15th the up train was loaded with soldiers, among whom was my Captain, David E. Pugsley who told me that Col. Landram had received orders from Brig. Gen. G.C. Smith to rush all the men that he could spare to Paris; that Morgan was moving on that place. That night my guards were driven from the Kiser bridge. I went to investigate and found a box car standing midway the bridge in flames. We tried to move it but the wheels were locked and the excessive heat forced us to abandon our object and the doomed bridge. On the morning of the 16th a car came up from Falmouth with orders from Col. Landram to bring us to Cynthiana.

We arrived at Cynthiana at one oclock p.m., and found everything red hot and still a heating, the coolest thing in town was the thermometer. While it fondled around the 100 degree mark, Col. Landram had begun to suspect that General Smith had been deceived and the order taking his men away to Paris and burning the bridge after them was a ruse of Morgans for which he was noted, the work of the shrewd Ellsworth, Morgans telegraph operator, having for its purpose the weakening of Cynthiana, the real object of attack; hence the Colonel was very busy preparing for anything that might happen making the best possible use of the situation and the material at hand, stationing his men at all available positions and guarding every approach to the town.

We spent the night listening for the roar of the cannon at Paris which never came. The morning of the 17th day of July, 1862, dawned upon a clear, cloudless sky and the warm, balmy breeze as it came kissing its way through the quivering, weeping boughs, stirring the thermometer up to business and whispering words of cheer and encouragement to a devoted band of soldiers and a small group of officers that stood huddled together on the streets of Cynthiana, Ky., talking over the situation, in the midst of whom, calm and collected, sat the gallant Col. Landram, who was astir and in the saddle early and looked as if he had been up all night. All eyes were turned upon him as he said: Gentlemen, I believe that Morgan is nearer Cynthiana this morning that he is to Paris and we are liable to be attacked at any moment. I believe we are in for it, and will have to make the best of it. It is needless for me to tell you to do your duty, for I well know you will all do that.

We knew our Col. had never been under fire at that time, but we felt that he was composed of the material of which heroes are made. Our confidence in him was such that he had only to command and we would obey and would follow his lead unto death if need be. We well knew the great odds against us and that the reputation of Morgan at that time was not of the kind calculated to create in the breast of a Union solider a desire to become his prisoner; hence we felt that it would be a fight to the finish, to victory or death.

But we felt inspired, gained strength and many soldiers were added to our ranks as we gathered courage from the cool, heroic Colonel, who looked the veteran of a dozen wars, the hero of a hundred battles, while he quietly gave orders to his little band of undisciplined soldiers preparatory to crossing swords with the terrible Texas Ranger, the trained victors of many battles.

At 3 p.m. I was talking with my old friend, the late Reuben Ireland, of olden times and better things, when I noticed a small blue smoke suddenly curl up across the Licking river bridge, about eight hundred yards distant, followed by a loud report, a shrieking, singing whiz overhead and the stern voice of Col. Landram as he shouted: Every man to his post, Morgan is here, thus answering the all important question, where is Morgan? and gave notice that the battle was on.

Capt. Billy Glass, of the Cincinnati Fire Department was ordered to cross the Licking River bridge with his cannon and take a position about 200 yards down the Georgetown pike and open upon Morgans advance and silence his battery if possible, which order Captain Glass promptly executed, doing excellent service with a few well-directed shots, to such an extent that Morgan was forced to check his advance and change his front by an oblique movement to the right, deploying two heavy columns, who crossed the river above the bridge.

To meet this movement Colonel Landram ordered the Captain to recross the bridge and take a position on the Cynthiana side, where he could command the streets as well as the bridge and oppose Morgans approach either way. By this time the Confederates had crossed the river and entered the town and were coming down the street in a cavalry charge like a Kansas cyclone. Now Billy was a good soldier and a nice clever gentleman, and might perhaps extinguish a fire with a hose over in Cincinnati, but the kind of fire we were having then had to be put out with a gun; while Morgan stood behind his men and fanned the flames, and when you thought you had them under control at one place, they would break out of the line of the Captains business, and not quite up to his liking, and whether he left to get a horse or to reckon accounts with the fellow who told him Morgan wouldnt fight, is left for Captain Billy to state.

Whooping and yelling, spreading consternation as they came in range, they opened fire upon Capt. Arthurs Company; the artillery support, which was promptly returned and became quite spirited, emptying several saddles, with loss of several men killed and wounded. The Confederates were invincible because of superiority of numbers and fired with that impetuosity born of desperation, which nothing short of a stone house could check or change its course. We were forced back up the street toward the depot, leaving the cannon and four fine horses belonging to the Cincinnati Fire Department of Cincinnati in possession of the Confederates. Moving slowly, warmly pressed on all sides, contesting the way, the Confederates had now entered the town in forceup the streets and down the alleys and apparently coming out of the ground. They came from all directions.

Here Major W.O. Smith, of the Seventh Kentucky, (better known as the Race Horse Cavalry), having by superior numbers been forced from his position on the Claysville road north of town, came tumbling down the street to the court house, where he was forced to surrender. Here I noticed a ball rolling upon the pavement. I held my hand down and caught italso a blister. Having exhausted my supply of ammunition, I placed my fine repeating Colts rifle up against a house and left it. If the Confederate is yet living who got that rifle I would be pleased to hear from him. We were now subjected to a concentrated fire from every side, and men went down like grass before the sickle. Colonel Landram was here, there and everywhere, by presence, word, and action, encouraging his stringing little band of Spartan heroes to renewed effort and energy; regardless of danger, a stranger to fear, his voice could be heard above the roar and din of battle.

Here Billy Clark, one of Morgans aides, came dashing up to him and demanded his surrender. Mighty armies, commanded by great military chieftains, at whose command thrones have crumbled and powerful nations trembled, have been surrendered under less favorable circumstances but not so with Landram, neither were their opportunities his.

To Clarks demand, Colonel Landram replied: Sir, I never surrender, and raising his pistol fired two or three shots at Clark in quick succession. I fired immediately after afterward, but Clark was reeling in his saddle when I fired and he told me afterward that Col. Landram was the man who shot him. Clark recovered, notwithstanding he had two balls through his body. Being extremelynot warmbut hot, I had divested myself of coat and vest, and would, if allowable, went one or two better.

The fighting now on both sides was terrific, the Confederates from the shelter of fences and houses were pouring across, galling fire upon us from all directions. It was here that Thos. Ware, U.S. Commissioner, was killed, and the gallant Capt. Lafe Wilson fell mortally wounded and died fighting, and here that Captains Rogers and McClintock were wounded, and our late fellow townsmen, Jacob Carver, lost his leg.

Three fourths of the 340 men were now dead, wounded or prisoners; the last ray of hope for success had vanished. To remain longer where we were, meant death; to surrender as we then believed, meant a worse fate. Just then the gallant Colonel Landram said: Boys, follow me, and we will try to cut our way through the enemy, and make our escape. Suiting the word to the action he led us off from the depot, up through Redmons pasture. On the hill we encountered a force of Confederates behind fences, tress and hay shocks, which the Colonel ordered us to charge, which we did, routing them effectually.

We noticed that we were being pursued by a force from town, who had followed us up the hill. Col. Landram ordered us to fight from behind a fence, which we did, holding them in check until our ammunition gave out. I noticed a Dutchman down on his knees peeping through the fence, with his gun resting on a railhe had been there sometime. I slapped my hand on his head with an expression that would not look well in print and told him to shoot. Just then a ball struck him in the breast and he fell over dead. I turned to look over at Col. Landram, the picture of a General without an army, a King without a country, a Rome without Caesar, as he sat calmly reviewing the situation; with his little army prisoners, wounded, dying and dead at his feet, looking as we then supposed inevitable death in the face, surrounded on all sides with only one bare possible avenue of escapeone small gap out towards the Millersburg pike, which was being rapidly crossed by two approaching columns of cavalry, completely encircled by the enemy on either flank and in the rear approaching. It was then that the gallant Colonel uttered those memorable wordswords that should live on and on in the memory and die with the last one that heard themat the end of a well-fought battle. With moisture in his eyes the Colonel said: Boys, we have done all that we can do; if you were only mounted we could cut our way out of here or all die together in the attempt. Take care of yourselves the best you can and I will have to do likewise. If I were only through that fence.

I sprang to the fence and had thrown down three or four rails, when the Colonel said: There, Lieutenant, that will do, thank you, and with his noble charger, (the gift of the regiment as an expression of the esteem and high regard they had for him), he cleared the fence and struck out for the opening and the pike. I ran across the corn field to a stone fence along a skirt of woods. The corn tassels were dropping around me, cut off by the enemys bullets. It was a bad day for corn and a worse one for blue coats. Just before I reached the fence I looked to see what had become of the Colonel. He had gained the pike and was going up the hill in full tilt with his hat in his hand waving defiance at the enemy, who were in hot pursuit, firing as they went.

I leaped, or rather fell upon the stone fence to hear the old familiar command, Halt! There, looking into the business end of a carbine, with a man behind it, who had fire in his eye; being tired and hungry and not feeling very well anyhow, I couldnt think of a better thing to do just then than to halt, and halt I did, and I might have been halted right there yet if that man had stayed behind that gun. The monotony of this desperate moment was broken by my captor saying: Well Yank, I have got you; give me the pistol out of that scabbard. I told him there was none in it. Where is it? he asked. I told him I had thrown it away, to which he replied: Go and get it and be dn quick about it. He leaped over the fence and followed me on his horse. I thought that I was doing real well to lead a cavalry man on foot, but evidently he did not think so. And if he knew that I was tired he did not care, for he urged me to greater speed until I could scarcely distinguish between the gait that I was going and a brisk run; and yet he urged me as if he thought a Yankee ought to fly. I was glad when I reached the spot and found my pistol where I had thrown it at the enemy as they came up the hill just before I left Col. Landram and the fence, and I never owned anything of such value that I was so anxious to give away (bless the cheerful giver.) When my captor said: No go up there to those fellows meaning some of our boys that they had captured and were guarding and be quick about it.

Now we could have eaten a cake or two and a piece of one of those pies. The most that we needed was an opportunity which never came; but perhaps those ladies did not know that Yankee soldiers liked pie and cake, but a blessed little creature came tripping along the line with a pitcher of water, a smile of innocence, a blush of purity, and in answer to our anxious inquiries, can we have a drink of that? replied: certainly, and gave me the best drink of water I ever had. We never can forget; she lingers in my memory yet. We were all in line waiting for we knew not what.

Among our boys I noticed Major W.O. Smith and Capt. Chas. McNeely, of the 7th Ky. Cavalry, and our nervy brave little Silas Howe, (then 2nd Sergeant of Company E., 18th Ky., and later Major of the 55th Ky.) with his peculiarly pleasant smile, that he had carried with him heroically through the battle; most visible where bullets fell thickest, and doing with other brave and heroic comrades double and treble duty, with desperation and coolness of veterans, for three long, hot hours against the great odds of 7 to 1 and giving the enemy as Colonel Morgan admitted the fight of his life.

Of seventeen engagements that he had participated in the affair at Cynthiana, was the fiercest and most desperate, and while I desire to give to our gallant Colonel and his brave little band of heroes a part of the praise due them, it is not my purpose to detract any portion of the credit belonging to the brave boys in gray; for certainly, judging from the amount of work that came to our hands, they were not idle and must have been doing their duty and doing it well or we would have had less to do.

Colonel Morgan now came along the line and gave us a nice little talk. Among other things he said that if any of us wanted to join the Confederacy his ranks were open; but the best thing I heard him say, to those who did not wish to join, he would parole them and wanted all such to go home, or wherever ordered, and respect his parole and not take up arms again until honorably exchanged. We were then paroled and the work of taking care of the dead and wounded began. Morgan treated us with the most gentlemanly courtesy, extending protection and assistance wherever needed conduct quite in contrast with the cruel and inhuman treatment accorded him while wounded and dying later on, and when we think of this it should bring a blush of shame to the brow of every true American solider.

Too much cannot be said of Dr. McNees, of the 7th Cavalry; J.C. Frazier, A.. Adams, J.A. Kirkpatrick, John A. Lair, and Dr. McLeod, for their invaluable aid rendered the sick and wounded, and especially to the noble ladies of Cynthiana for their unremitting attention and untiring administration upon the wounded and dying. While their sympathies were with the Gray, their consoling words of cheer and loving motherly hands were with the Blue as well, and served to soothe the pillow and calm many an aching brow on that eventful day.

We found among the dead Thomas Ware, Thomas Rankin, Capt. Lafe Wilson, Jesse Current, and Wm. Robinson, Nathan Kennedy, James Atchinson, Simpson Eaton, and William Stewart all of Harrison County Home Guards.

Among the wounded: Capt. S.J. Rogers, Co. I, 18th Ky.; Thomas. Duvall and Hector Reed, home guards; J.W. Minor, 7th Ky. Cavalry; Jacob Carver, Co. E, 18th Ky.; Charles Tait, 34th Ohio; Rev. George . Morrison and William Sanders, home guards; James Little, 7th Ky. Cavalry; Christian Leden and Wm. J. Hill, home guards; A.J. Powell and Robert Rose, 7th Ky. Cavalry; Montgomery W. Rankin (since dead) and John W. Adams, Capt. J.B. McClintock, John McClintock, L.A. Funk, L.C. Rankin, Rev. Carter Page, J.S. Furnish, J.F. St. Thomas, James E. Dickey, B.T. Amos, William House, home guards; Wm. Hindman, Co. E, 18th Ky.; Milton Hall, Alfred McCauley, Capt. W.H. Bradley, Thomas, J. Vimont and John H. Orr all of the 7th Ky. Cavalry; and Thomas Berry, Cincinnati Artillery. Some of the dead and wounded had been removed by friends before we were paroled.

Our loss was 22 killed and 38 wounded; that of Morgan was 25 killed and 78 wounded. Several of his wounded died on his way to Paris and Richmond.

Col. Landram reached Paris that night and joined his regiment and the command under General Green Clay Smith.

Col. Morgan left Cynthiana early the night of the 17th and arrived at Paris on the morning of the 18th and immediately attacked the Union forces under Smith, numbering about 2,500 men, and after a spirited conflict of a few hours which was uncomfortably warm for the Colonel he drew his forces off for Richmond and Winchester, where he was pursued by General Smith and the 18th Ky. under gallant Landram.

We were furnished transportation and ordered to Camp Chase, Ohio, to await an exchange. The people of Columbus, and especially the soldiers of two or three new regiments that were being recruited there, shied around us as if we were so many wild animals that had escaped from some menagerie down South. They could not understand how we could be Union soldiers and come from Kentucky. The regarded us as rebels and thought we ought to be put in the bull pen with some other confederate prisoners they had there, and told us so. They taunted us about being whipped and captured by the notorious guerrilla Morgan.

These Ohio regiments were ordered to the front and struck Kentucky just in time to run up against the Big Hill and General Kirby Smith at the battle of Richmond, and returned to Columbus a sorry set, looking very much like Billy Nyes Sunday hat after it had passed through the threshing machine and been beat out with a soot bag. The tables were not turned and we had the last laugh which is generally the best. One of our red tape, feather bed Generals (for we had such they come as a necessity born with all wars) came and wanted to send us west to fight the Indians, and as our paroles prohibited the use of fire-arms before we were exchanged, we objected, and after some lively times, loud talk and many threats he gave the scheme up in disgust and went off at something else less dangerous, more profitable and better suited to his calling the writing of Ben Hur and we were exchanged and returned to duty at Lexington, Ky.

Colonel Metcalf, of the 7th Ky. Cavalry, returned to Cynthiana bravely a few days later and levied and assessment upon the citizens of Cynthiana and Harrison county for the purpose of raising means to reimburse the fire department of Cincinnati for the loss of their horses, and some thoughtless wretch had the impudence to ask me a few years afterwards what I supposed Col. Metcalf [had] done with all of the money he collected there for that purpose and I told him if the Colonel was yet living, and was so inclined, he could perhaps best answer that question himself, and while he was at it, he might explain why he was not here on the 17th to assist in protecting those horses and other property.

What our Savior said of the poor he might have said of the fanatic and the crank. They too are always with us. Barring all such, the war is over; its results have long since been accepted; all reasonable and rationale minds are reconciled to the conditions produced by the war that only lingers in the shadow of the past.

And while we have discharged our duty as soldiers and fellow comrades, and can, when the end comes, leave with pride a record that you and I and those who follow after across the sands of time having taken u the burden where we laid it down and assumed in our stead the cares and responsibilities of life need not be ashamed, yet our mission is not complete nor our task finished. There are many things yet for you and I to do, among which it remains for us to make a record as a citizen that will compare favorably with our record as a soldier.

On the bloody field of Waterloo, where two mighty armies were engaged in mortal combat; on the result of which hung the destinies of two continents, and, as the two great bodies swayed too and fro amid the clash of arms; the shrieks of the wounded; the groans of the dying; the rattle of musketry; the cannons deep roar, at a critical moment by sheer force the allied lines were forced back and broken. This was readily detected by the ever watchful eye of the great Napoleon, who to improve his advantage, sent his faithful lieutenant the intrepid Ney with his thirty thousand trained victors of a hundred battles. Just then the Duke of Wellington dashed into his broken fleeing ranks when an old English solider recognized him exclaimed: Here is the Duke! God save the Duke, and the cry was taken up and carried along the lines. Thus encouraged the soldiers re-entered the battle with renewed energy, and that evenings sun set upon a victorious English army and the downfall of the great Napoleon.

Fellow comrades, were are today engaged in another war and in the midst of a great battle the battle of life. The air is full of death-dealing missiles, our friends are falling thick and fast around us. With the Blue and the Gray the war will soon be over. In our front arrayed in hostile attitude are the great enemies to civil and religious liberty the key to the progress, welfare and prosperity of all governments party strife, State jealousies and sectional animosities in our midst and urging us on to victory. In the discharge of our human and Christian duties we have the Great Commander, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Above the tumultuous roar of the conflict we hear his noble voice counseling meekness, moderation and forgiveness, that we may be forgiven.

Again we hear the command: Love thy neighbor as thyself, Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. As did the soldier of Waterloo, let us take courage and form a resolution to do our whole duty to each other.

As soldiers of the Blue and Gray let us discard and turn our backs upon all of the unpleasant differences that may have grown out of, or had their origin with the Civil War. The affairs of earth and time are but trivial and insignificant as compared with our duty to each other and posterity. As we prepare for the summons of our commander let us fall in for roll-call where there will be no Blue nor Gray around the camp fire over on the other shore. As there shall be none there let us have none here.

On that great day set apart for decorating the graves of the dear ones departed; when we have paid the last sad tribute of respect to the memory of our dear comrades in Blue, let us also plant a little rose upon the graves of the Gray, for perhaps at that moment, in the far away sunny south, some kind and loving hand may be tenderly caring for the grave of your brother, your husband or your father.

You ask why do I think so? And I answer: because I have been upon the battle field in the midst of the wounded and dying blue and gray, in company with the southern mother, and I have heard the dying boy in blue crying piteously: Mother, Oh! My mother, if she were only here, and I have heard the southern mother say, while the tears chased each other down her noble cheeks, as she tenderly stroked his fevered brow: I will be your mother now.

Comrades of the Blue and soldiers of the Gray, the day of our terrestrial journey is coming to a close; we are nearing the end; the sun has passed the noon-day hour; evening is drawing its sable curtain about us, and we soon shall here the sunset gun. Let us use the few remaining weeks, months or years at most, in honoring our be loved dead and healing the wounds produced by the mere difference of opinion, involving brother against brother and father against son, by uniting in one general, joyous jollification over the glorious blessings that comes to you and I as citizens of the grandest government known to the civilized nations of the earth, as followers of a flag that is loved and honored from pole to pole.

In penning these few lines I feel that I am voicing the sentiment of most or all of the true surviving soldiers of the Union army, and especially of the gallant old 18th Kentucky that went out in Sixty-one numbering nine hundred and eight-five and returned in Sixty-five numbering two hundred and forty-one, leaving three-fourths of its members strewn over the battle fields of the south, mingling with the soil of almost every State of the late Confederacy; fathers, and mothers, sisters and brothers of the Confederates, while we are doing our duty in caring for the graves of our loved ones in Gray that have gone down on northern fields and out of northern prisons, plant a little rose upon the graves of the Blue for their brothers, sisters, wives, fathers and mothers, and for me.

Since those days forty long years have gone by on the wheels of time. And in their passing have come many changes to those times and scenes; many of the actors and participants of 62-5 have passed over the line in repose to the last final roll call and others are fast following; the grass of several summers kissed into existence by the gentle dews of heaven, have come and gone over the grave of our gallant Colonel; all lines giving cause for controversy, contention and strife have been obliterated, and we have today a united country with one common mutual interest, being all ours from shore to shore, from north to south, from east to west; with no blue, no gray, but bound and sealed by the holy bonds of self-respect, national pride and soldierly love. Whether right or wrong is not for you nor I to say, it is enough for us to know that the responsibility is never with the man behind the gun, for like the church usher he only goes forward to prepare the way to ease and comfort those who follow.

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