Just about the time Price’s raid was over, and the federal troops had about all returned to Springfield who had been stationed there prior to the raid, Grandfather was doing some work about the barn lot, when some intoxicated federal soldiers who were passing through his premises, saw him and began to abuse him and curse him. He paid no attention, and one of them drew his revolver and deliberately shot the poor old defenseless man. Grandfather was partially deaf and blind in one eye, and as he probably had not heard or seen his assailants, he seemed to ignore them which increased their drunken rage and precipitated their assault upon him. I was tn the yard nearby and witnessed the shooting and I picked up a large stone and hurled it at Grandfather’s assailant but missed him.. He was several yards away from me and I doubt whether he saw me. After I threw the stone I dodged behind a large clump of lilac bushes as I feared the drunken brute might shoot me too. He passed within a few feet of me as he left the yard. As soon as he was gone, I went to the house and reported the attempt to assassinate Grandfather. There happened to be two federal soldiers in the house at the time, and they accompanied Mother and I, Cousin Davy and the Negro servants to where Grandfather had fallen and lay bleeding from his wound. They carried him to the house and laid him on his bed.

In a few minutes Father came home and immediately made an examination and found that it was a flesh wound in his shoulder. No bones having been broken, he dressed the wound and soon Grandfather was resting as well as could be expected. He was 82 years old, but was in excellent health for one of his advanced age. If no unfavorable complications occurred, Father said he would eventually recover, but on account of his extreme age, he would no doubt recuperate slowly. I remember that when Father had made an examination of the wound, he probed it with an instrument and then drew, by means of the probe, a piece of white silk through the wound. He said this process was to ascertain if there was any part of his clothing, through which the ball passed in penetrating his shoulder, carried into and remained in the wound, and to eliminate such foreign substance. Father with the assistance of Mother as nurse, gave Grandfather very close attention until all danger of infection of blood poisoning or other complications was past and Grandfather was out of danger. Mother continued as she had done to dress his wound as often as needed every day and it had fully healed. In a few months Grandfather fully recovered from the effects of the wound and lived thereafter more than ten years. It was fortunately only a flesh wound. If the bones of his shoulder or back had been broken the shot would doubtless have proven fatal.

The dastardly wretch who committed the cowardly assault was soon arrested, tried and convicted of the crime of assault with intent to kill (I think that was the charge against him). He was sent to a federal prison for a long term of years, just how long I do not know. Sometime previous to this drunken soldier’s attack on Grandfather, he had been working in his orchard pruning some trees, and a limb fell and struck him in the face putting out the sight of one of his eyes. The fact that he was very old and blind in one eye and partially deaf, as I have already said, caused him to apparently ignore whatever demand his assailant may have made before making his murderous assault.

During the spring and summer of 1864, I helped Grandfather and Willie Jones cultivate several acres of corn on the farm where we lived. Grandfather also had a farm of about 160 acres think in the prairie near where Uncle Buck Roundtree and Aunt Almarinda Massey lived. He had that farm leased to someone while we lived with him. In cutting the corn crop that year, Willie Jones and I did the plowing with two horses which Grandfather bought of the government in 1862. They each had the letters I.C. branded on the right shoulder, The letters stood for “inspected and condemned” and signified that the animals were no longer fit far service and they had been sold at a government auction sale. One of the horses was named Shady, and the other was named Bones and the latter name was appropriate. Bones had been very thin in flesh when Grandfather bought him. After he had owned him two years and he had been well fed, he still continued to be quite bony. But he was strong and at times was quite lively. I remember one day I rode him down to the ford of Wilson Creek, about a quarter of a mile from the barn, to water him. In coming back to the barn, Bones struck into a brisk canter and when near the barn shied at something in the road. In order to avoid colliding with a tree that stood near, he suddenly stooped and I went on over his head and hit the ground so hard it knocked the breath out to me, but presently I regained my breath and got up. By that time Bones had got to the barn. I was pretty badly stunned by the sudden fall but not much hurt. I was always careful to ride Bones slowly after that. In addition to plowing the corn that summer, we hoed it two times. In this hard work,Willie and I were assisted some by Grandfather and also by the colored servant Steve Dollison all of the time. Steve was pretty badly crippled as he said "wiv rheumatiz sah" but he was an industrious old Negro and did lots of work

One Sunday that summer, Willie Jones' cousin Worth Rountree and I rode horseback down to Uncle Junius Rountree‘s, and while there we went to where the Wilson Creek Battle was fought, which was only a few miles from where Uncle Junius lived. The battleground was near the Cherokee town, where the Indians lived when Grandfather settled on Wilson Creek near Springfield. They were moved to a reservation in the Indian Territory before the Civil War. At the time we saw the Wilson Creek Battleground, which was about 3 years after the battle was fought, there were still many evidences of the terrible struggle between the Federal and Confederate forces on that eventful day, August 12, 1861. The battlefield was covered with a growth of white oak and post oak trees among which there were many small trees or saplings. Many of which had been cut down by the bullets and cannon balls about four feet from the ground, and a number of the larger trees were cut and bruised and bark torn off, all of which was still visible though on some of the trees the cuts had been grown over by new bark. The battlefield was often visited by people from the surrounding country and from Springfield and other towns.

The summer of 1864 was hot and dry, but there were some severe electrical storms. In one of the storms I was badly shocked by lightning. During the storm I approached an open outside door in Grandfather! s room, probably to close it, when there was a blinding flash of lightning followed instantly by a deafening clap of thunder. It stunned me but did not knock me down. Although I was uninjured, I was a dreadfully frightened lad. After the storm was over we discovered that a small shade tree near the house had been stricken by the bolt of lightning. I was always--from the time I was a small child--very fearful of storms especially electrical and wind storms and after my experience in the storm at St. Luke’s before the war I became more sensitive to electricity and I was always horrified during a severe storm. This electrical shock increased my sensitiveness and I became so fearful that I dreaded to see the storm season come around.

Sometime that summer or fall there was a death at Grandfather’s home. A visitor, Mr. Ransom Cates, a relative I think of Cousin Davy Rountree, who was an aged man residing in Polk County, was taken suddenly ill during the night of his arrival. Father gave him medical treatment as soon as he came home the next morning, I think, and continued to try to overcome the ravages of the disease which was pneumonia, but without success. After suffering intensely for several days, the old gentleman passed away. This was the first death that ever occurred in the house where we lived, and it made a deep impression on me.

Copyright ©2004 Larry Slavens. All rights reserved.