Part 3

At the first opportunity I proved the two citizens--who had been "kidnapped" from the train near Hillsboro--to be deserters-- While giving them the "Third degree" in camp the first night after leaving H---- they were thrown off their guard by my suddenly shouting-- "Stand Attention, Sir! when talking to an officer"! Which he did _instantly_. I then had them stripped and found Government shirts and socks on both of them-- They then made a "clean breast" of it, declaring that they were recruits of Troop "K" and had been enlisted but two or three months; all of which accounted for their non-military appearance when it was decided to hold them on suspicion-- It also accounted for the inability of any one, either in the detachment, or among the old deserters of Troop "B", to identify them. Turning out the prisoners in the morning they were placed in column and the order was repeated-- "Shoot dead instantly any man who starts to leave the road without my permission". It had the desired effect. Wherever I could find one they were placed in jail. In passing through Cleburne and stopping off to pay some bills--suspicion having been attracted to another man, I "rounded him up"--and after some strenuous "Third Degree" questioning--he proved to be a deserter from "Troop F" who had preceded the others by a few days-- I had now ten deserters, and the "old man" driver of the freight wagon. As we approached Weatherford--I began to give some thought to the two alleged detectives or constables (?), and ransacked my brain as to the method for their capture. The rascally old driver had, after much diplomatic persuasion, informed me that these men were really constables and acting detectives, and one was even then acting as Deputy Sheriff of the County, and lived just outside of W---- While I was doubtful as to my power to arrest either, I determined to make a show of frightening them, and to report their case to the Civil Authorities for their disposal-- I commenced a vigorous search-- Riding into a ranch, pointed out by the prisoners, I inquired--"does Mr. ---- live here"? Being in citizen's clothes and alone, my mission was not suspected-- "That is my name", said a man sitting in a chair on the porch-- "I arrest you then in the name of the United States Government for accepting bribes of deserters from our army, and allowing them to escape-- My men are outside in the road--don't waste any words, but come right along"-- To my astonishment, the man was so frightened that mounting his horse, which stood outside, and surrendering his gun--he preceded me to the road--where he came face to face with all of his accusers, who now seeing him under arrest, made bold to unmercifully taunt him with his rascality--shouting--"Hey, Johnnie, where's my $10.00?" "How much of a pile did you pull out of me at Bear Creek (?)" etc., etc., much to the bogus detective's discomfiture and chagrin. They had now the "whip hand". He rode like a little kitten under charge of Corporal Charlton into W---- when a complaint was entered and sworn to by all of the deserters, and he was placed under bonds for his appearance at the Spring term of the U. S. District Court at Tyler, Texas, where, some months later, the writer was ordered from Department Headquarters to appear as a witness against him, and the second constable whom I captured in much the same manner as the first, but nearer Weatherford. The old wagoner pleaded hard, saying that he had never been in such a scrape. It would "kill him to have to go to prison", etc.--but, knowing that Mackenzie was anxious and determined to break up these wholesale desertions that were then taking place in the regiment--many of them with the secret connivance and assistance of citizens, although it was never discovered that any of them were _constables_--and would endorse the most extreme measures I might make to accomplish it, I promptly placed him under bonds--and left him in W---- in charge of the Civil Authorities.

The Discovery--The Deserter "Squeals"

The streams were all frozen up-- The weather was still icy cold-- So far I had been unable to get any trace, or sure clue of the missing carbines which the men had carried with them when deserting, and sold. The deserters refused to divulge their whereabouts except to hint that they were somewhere between Crawford's Ranch and Fort R---- At last I determined to use heroic methods-- At that date such methods were recognized as _legitimate_, if not _legal_ in bringing recalcitrants to their senses, instead of resorting to the slow and laborious, as well as questionable methods of Court Martial. These methods were legacies of the Civil War, and in the field, away from the complicated machinery of Post Administration--and on such duty--and under such _wide open instructions_ as Mackenzie had given us, I considered it absolutely necessary to employ-- I resolved to select the weakest minded man in the group of deserters, and, in the presence of them, the two corporals and the entire detachment, "_tie him up by the thumbs_", until he "squealed"-- Such punishment was of almost daily occurrence at the great Draft Rendezvous-- This was done with the desired result--and I located the missing arms, the property of the United States which I was out after, without further trouble. This man was Crafts-- Placing the deserters in Mrs. Crawford's corn bins, the ground still being covered with snow and ice and the weather bitter cold--I determined to send in a mounted courier or runner to Mackenzie. Writing a hasty message--a personal note on a piece of soiled brown paper--a brief announcement of the capture was made, but reciting no details--also the condition of both the men and horses--"all nearly exhausted from cold and loss of sleep--the prisoners nearly barefooted, and with sore and blistered feet, chafed legs, etc.--but plenty to eat; horses unshod." He was urged to "send a wagon, some handcuffs--ropes--rations, etc., to meet me somewhere on the road--and without delay--between Crawford's Ranch and Fort R---- I was proceeding slowly", etc.-- The wagon met me, but not until I was within a few miles of the post--and just as the prisoners were emphatically exclaiming that they "_could go no further._" They were bundled into the wagon, much to their and my relief, for these footsore and chafed cavalrymen, as I had seen them in October after being dismounted in the stampede near Canon Blancho, were now in the same demoralized condition, and it is extremely doubtful if they could have been pushed any further afoot.

Hardin's Ranch--Two Viragos--The Search--The Threat

When Hardin's Ranch, 16 miles from Fort R----, was reached, I bivouacked my men and taking Charlton proceeded to reconnoitre-- I found two tall, gaunt, leathery, bony, unprepossessing, sour-looking females-- With some hesitation, I approached my delicate mission or undertaking and began to interview them, using all of the engaging manners and suave (?) diplomacy I was capable of--which, as a soldier--so I have been told--has never been of a very pronounced character. It availed me nothing-- To the inquiry as to whether any of the men were at home, and if any carbines had been left at the ranch by these soldiers when going down the country, the reply was curtly snapped out--"No"!-- They 'lowed they hadn't never seen no carbines; the "old man" wasn't home-- I _politely_ asked if I might "look about the ranch and premises"-- That stirred the gall of these specimens of the gentle, tender sex-- "No! you can't"!-- Then I began a mild form of the "Third Degree"--and bringing up the man who had--under pressure--"Squealed"--to identify the women--and to make an even stronger statement as to the disposal of their carbines--we were met with nothing but repulses, followed by foul abuse--such as: "You blue-bellied Yankees better go away from here--if the "old man" was here he would lick you uns outen yer boots", etc.-- I was not, at this point, inclined to spoil the reputation I had already acquired or sacrifice my good name, or make any slip by any "Violation of the Civil Law" now in full force in all parts of Texas--in view of Mackenzie's explicit instructions on that point-- Neither did I feel inclined to be beaten just at this stage of the game--the end of this frightfully exhausting and most momentous trip, or to be balked and bluffed by these two raw bone, belligerent termagants, and lose the fruits of my thus far assured success-- I wanted to make a clean "sweep up" of my trip, and, in order to do so--_I must have those carbines_, now that I felt I was so close to them-- So I swung around to other tactics--or, rather _Grand Strategy_-- "If you don't produce those carbines from their places of concealment, which I know to be here or about your premises, I shall be compelled to search your ranch"-- This last shot hit hard-- More and more abuse, coupled with more threats of what the "old man" would do to me. The climax had now come-- I could not see my way clear to bluff any longer-- I felt that I must act at once and decisively-- "Corporal Charlton, call the men at once-- Search this ranch thoroughly-- If necessary rip up the floors, and turn over the "_loft_"; ransack all of the out buildings, but be careful that you do not injure these _ladies_" (?) "If they resist or try to use any guns, treat them as you would 'he' _men_; jump on them, and securely rope them--and don't let them get 'the drop' on you-- You take charge of the job and see that it is well done"-- His steel-blue eyes flashed-- My musketeer Corporal--"d'Artagnon"--sprang at it with a relish-- He had heard, and been the object--of much of the abuse of these scolding viragos-- The ranch was thoroughly searched--the "rough-neck" women offering no resistance except with their bitter tongues which shot off the vilest sort of "_Billings gate_"-- It was without avail. The carbines were evidently concealed at some point distant from the house-- As we were about to leave--the women, unconquered--again spat out-- "If the 'old man' wuz heah he would lick you uns out o' yer boots". Here was a fine chance for another bluff. I walked up to them, and in my most impressive manner gave here this decisive Coup d'Etat-- "_If your old man doesn't deliver those carbines into Fort Richardson by 10 o'clock to-morrow morning--I will bring this same detachment out here with a raw hide lariat and hang him to that oak tree_"-- They had seen me ransack the ranch, they had known what that threat of hanging meant in the reconstruction days among the "bad men"--the "gun men" and desperadoes of the far South West-- They showed signs of wilting--and I departed, inwardly cursing the luck which had deserted me at the last moment and compelled me to make a raw bluff which I knew full well I could not carry out or enforce in view of Mackenzie's _most strenuous official objections_--

Land the Prisoners--The "Old Man" Makes Good

Reaching Fort R---- in a few hours and reporting to Mackenzie the prisoners were "turned over"--and I was just seeking a shave, a hot bath--some good grub and a rest from the dreadful "wear and tear" of one of the most wearing and completely exhaustive duties I had ever performed, either during the Civil War or later, when Mackenzie sent for me-- I was still in a very dirty and bedraggled suit of citizen clothes-- I needed complete relaxation and rest from my week's gruelling trip--during which, with the exception of two nights, I had slept, or tried to sleep--"out in the open" in this howling icy "Norther"--and with much responsibility pressing upon me. "Ask the General to please excuse me until I shave, wash, and change my clothes"-- Word came back at once-- "Tell him that Gen. Hardie is here and wishes to see him particularly. Never mind his personal appearance--come now just as he is"! It was virtually an order-- So I went but in a condition of wilted militarism. Mackenzie opened up with a most cordial introduction to Gen. H---- and the remark: "Gen. Hardie, I want you to see what my officers of _Civil War record_" (I inwardly grew profane) "can accomplish when they are sent out in weather like this to get results under merely '_verbal instructions_', and acting alone under their own initiative, good judgment and discretion-- He has done far more than I expected of him and I am extremely gratified". He continued with profuse congratulations, thanks and personal commendations.

"Congratulations"--"Thanks"--"Special Commendations," Etc.--A Soothing Balm (?)

Gen. James A. Hardie, then an Assistant Inspector General U. S. Army--the one time friend and confidential Military Adviser of Abraham Lincoln, whom he selected to send on that delicate mission to Frederick City, Md., to relieve Gen. Hooker from command of the Army of the Potomac just prior to the Battle of Gettysburg--appointing Gen. Meade to succeed him--happened to be at Fort R---- on his annual tour of inspection of the frontier posts. After such an introduction from Mackenzie--Gen. Hardie was very informal-- He was a very handsome man, then about 48 years of age-- He was very courteous and had an exceedingly attractive personality-- With the disparity in our ages, he seemed, at that period, to be a very "old man". He had served in the Mexican War, and died as a Brevet Maj. General, Dec. 14, 1876-- Placing both hands on my shoulders he said: "Young man, I am proud of you-- General Mackenzie ought to be proud of having such an officer in his regiment." "I want to personally congratulate and warmly thank you for the fine work you have done-- It was a duty of very great responsibility, and you should be commended not only by the Department, but by the entire Army. I believe it is a record that you should be very proud of." In rehearsing my adventures to them, I came to the incident at Hardin's ranch, and my encounter with the two "Jezabels"-- Mackenzie flared up-- "Didn't I particularly impress upon you in my '_verbal instructions_' that you must not '_violate the Civil Law_' in any way--I----" Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, I replied: "Well, Sir! I have violated no Civil Law. I have hung nobody as yet, only made a huge bluff. You will see those carbines here to-morrow morning". The "old man" who was going to "lick me out of my boots"--promptly at 10 o'clock--rolled into Fort R---- _with all of the carbines_. I happened to be at the Adjutant's office-- "Is the Gineral in"? "He is"!-- "I've brought in them guns"!-- After making a statement more or less satisfactory of how they happened to come into his possession, and after Mackenzie had "hauled him over the coals" for a "send off"--the rancher departed--"a sadder but a wiser" man. I never got any _sweet looks_ from the "ladies" after that when duty called me past that ranch.

Lawton came in a day or two later. He certainly was "out of luck"-- The deserters had not headed his way. He had gone farther than the writer-- Way up into the Indian Nation (now Oklahoma), and not only had not succeeded in "bagging" anybody, but, most unfortunately, one of the best men in his detachment deserted, taking his horse, arms and entire equipment with him. After ascertaining what had come my way, he seemed to be much crest fallen.

A few days afterwards Mackenzie, upon hearing that another man of Troop "F" was known to be a deserter, and had been located rather vaguely as being in the "Keechi Valley"--sent for me, and, after smilingly giving me as well as he was able, the location of the ranch--and announcing that as I had been proved the "_champeen_" catcher of deserters, he was going to send me out after him-- He trusted that I would not belie my "reputation"-- After a day's trip in fine weather I was able to definitely place him, and after watching the ranch all day--surrounded it, and, without any trouble, captured him as he came in from his work in the field-- My record now was: 11 deserters and 3 citizens, two of them Constables--with all the arms carried away from the post. Corporal Charlton had proved himself a very invaluable man. As a soldier he was wonderfully resourceful and active; in action he was intense, energetic and decisive. With his intelligence and good, horse sense, he would, even without the complete education which some men have _without sense_--have made a good all round commissioned officer--a credit to the regiment and to the Army-- It is a pity that we did not have more of his type with which to build up the army with practical men of his caliber--instead of having so much over educated material.

I had gained much valuable experience in the methods of unearthing rascality, and in accomplishing results, under dreadful exposure and hardships; many trials and difficulties.

Shortly after this the writer received a letter of thanks from the Department. As it is the only one that he ever received, and as he never expects to receive another--it is esteemed as a rare curiosity--and it is modestly added to complete the record and round out the story.

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF TEXAS, Office of Ass't Adjutant General, _San Antonio, Texas, Jan. 4, 1872_.

Second Lieutenant ROBERT G. CARTER, 4th Cavalry, (Through Headquarters, Fort Richardson, Texas)--

SIR:--

I have the honor to acknowledge receipt of your report of the 9th ultimo, relative to your pursuit of deserters under Special Orders No. 280, Fort Richardson, Texas, dated November 29, 1871,--which resulted in the capture of ten deserters.

The Department Commander desires me to express to you his _gratification at your success_, and his _special commendation for the zeal and ability displayed by you_.

The good conduct and faithful services of the enlisted men composing the detachment, and Mr. Rhodes, citizen guide, is deemed a proper subject for a letter of commendation to the Post Commander.

I am Sir, very respectfully, your ob't servant, (Signed) H. CLAY WOOD, _Assistant Adjutant Gen_

Military Experience and Common Sense vs. Military Education and "Intensive Training"

If a man is not endowed with good common sense, or it is not an inherent trait--no amount of training he might receive at West Point or any other Military institution for the purpose of educating that sense into him, or cultivating what little sense he possesses--especially the military or fighting sense--or, any effort to convert him into a practical soldier, could make him one, and the time and effort will have been worse than wasted-- It is simply impossible to supply in him by mere education what he is lacking through nature's gift--and this truth--absolutely axiomatic--applies to all walks of life-- Good sense, combined with a liberal education well directed along right lines, makes for success in all pursuits, whether as President, lawyer, doctor, minister, the business man or the professional soldier-- But all the education in the wide universe, unaccompanied by good sense, spells defeat for any class--and would not rescue a man from common mediocrity-- The world's trail is strewn with such senseless wrecks-- They are mere human derelicts on the ocean of life--and the more a man of that type is educated or over educated the worse it is; and the more accentuated does his failure become--the more apparent his lack of common sense, and the more liability there is to wreckage-- In no other profession does this become so painfully apparent or more pronounced than in that of the professional soldier, when some desperate effort is being made to create--manufacture, or transform a little man in uniform, a parvenue or a man of mediocre caliber--into a great commander of men--one whose horse sense is particularly lacking--or which cannot by any amount of education or training be developed--and worse still when he himself through an over supply of egotism or conceit is not, nor can he be made aware of his failing, but bungles along until disaster overtakes him and his command, and every thing connected with him and them--

The writer claims that there has not been, nor is there now sufficient care taken in the selection of candidates for entrance to the Military Academy. Little or no heed is taken of their aptitude or fitness for a Military career--and that there are in the service to-day many officers who, from this lack of fitness and deficiency in common sense, are an incubus to the Army--and should be "canned"-- Competitive examinations in Congressional Districts develop a class of bright students--some honor men ranking high in their class studies and highly specialized along certain lines, but who, from lack of inherent qualities, fail in the essentials that go to make up an alert, well-balanced, clear-headed, resourceful, decisive, "cracker-jack"--rough and tumble soldier in the field-- It is not in them-- Those who have had campaign and battle-field experience--have all seen this-- Entrance to West Point on certificates or diplomas from High Schools do not altogether fill the bill either--for they are apt to be guided by political favoritism or Congressional pull rather than a selection on general merit and fitness for a military life[A]--based generally upon good health--a sound body and a clear, receptive mind--"Mens sana in corpore sano" but, above all things the one dominating desire to adopt the Army as a life career alone--combined with plenty of good, sound--horse sense--West Point will do the rest in the way of preparation and training-- Many of the College and School systems are not uniform or in any way co-ordinated with the class instructions at West Point--and much that these students have gone over in Freshmen--Sophomore--Junior or even Senior courses have to be undone--gone over again--or entirely reversed-- The writer has seen a College junior utterly fail or "fall down" at his preliminary examination for lack of thoroughness and drill in the _three "R's"_-- All this is a waste of time-- If then, the student's bent is not inclined to an Army life--and his heart is not in it--but to the law, medicine or the ministry--there is more waste and loss of time--in trying to convert a good minister, lawyer, doctor or grocer into a mighty poor soldier-- All of these qualifications, and predilections--the individual tastes and preferences of the young candidates should be considered, looked into and carefully weighed in selecting, educating and launching men into a career where they, by rapid promotion, are bound to become the future ranking officers and commanders of our Armies-- Many a slip and disaster have occurred in an Army by misplaced judgment--slowness of decision and lack of common sense in trying to fit a "square peg into a round hole" or by educating a man for the service and permitting him to attain high rank and high command before it shall have been discovered that he not only does not possess the necessary qualifications for the same but is absolutely deficient in good sense--good judgment, decisive action, or even the ordinary military instincts to maintain the high standard of efficiency and success pertaining thereto--and upon which all depends-- In a garrison of 10 troops of Cavalry and three Companies of Infantry--Mackenzie had not only carefully gone over the entire roster from which to select two officers upon whose experience and good judgment he could absolutely depend for the performance of a duty in which he not only wanted but expected and demanded decisive results, but he had revolved all the possibilities and probabilities of dismal failure had he selected any other than Lawton and myself.