Family Annals

The following is a transcription of Moses McCleary's own description of his involvement as a Union soldier in the Civil War and the events involving his regiment. I was born in Wappello County, Iowa, November 20th, 1847, moved to Polk County in 1850, and to Kansas in 1857, settling on the Shawnee Reserve in Johnson County and was living there in 1861.

Early in the spring of 1861 I enlisted in a company of home guards. Which organization continued until in September. It was broken up by enlistments from its ranks to volunteer organizations, leaving a few old men and boys too young for the volunteer service. I was one of this number being less than 14 years old. I visited every camp and recruiting station within 20 miles of my home trying to enlist. Finally, on misrepresenting my age, I was taken in and mustered as a private, Company "I", 8th Kansas Infantry.

In giving this sketch it must be understood that I do not give it merely to tell what "I done" in that great struggle but to give a better idea, if possible, what the volunteer soldier of 1861 to 1865 had to pass through, taking my own service and giving it as an average. I do not claim that high a standard of excellence but, during my 43 months service, I think that I saw all the phases of a private soldier's life and will tell what I can of my own experience and giving the movements of my regiment, as its history is my history. I am proud of the part I took and justly proud of the regiment to which I belonged and the record it made. And, in giving this outline of its service, if I am accused of self praise or egotism it will be by those who saw less of the service than I did and I seek no quarrel with them. There are plenty of old soldiers who know that I have not told the half.

I enlisted at Gardner, Johnson County, Kansas, November 22, 1861, two days after I was 14 years old, and was quartered in the old stone school house at Gardner until, in January, the 23 men that comprised the company were ordered to Fort Leavenworth and there joined another part of a company and elected our captain. This changed our letter to "F", which letter we retained during our entire service.

One year of our time was spent at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, or at least that was our headquarters. Fort Leavenworth was the general supply depot for all the western department and there was from two to three thousand troops: infantry, cavalry, and artillery, kept there for guard duty and for the purpose of drilling and getting ready for service. Our time was mostly spent there in drill; occasionally escorting a provision train across the plains to Fort Laramie, or scouting in Missouri after Quantrell and his gang of bushwhackers.

Here I took my first lessons in military fine arts according to Hardee's tactics. Here I had my first and last experience in the hospital. Once with the mumps and twice with the measles and its effects, finally deserting from the hospital and joining my company on an expedition in Missouri. I never returned to the hospital. This record operated against me in my pension claim, but I finally got that record straightened by affidavits and am now drawing a pension for a disability that I firmly believe to be the result of the cruelty of the surgeon in charge of the hospital. I never had any desire to go to a hospital again and I never did; and was never on sick report but once after this time.

We stayed here until in February 1863, being well equipped and well drilled, we were ordered to Nashville, Tennessee. [After] arriving there, we were assigned to police duty in the city.

In June of the same year we were relieved and took our place in the army as a part of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, 20th Army Corps, Army of the Cumberland. When at Murfreesboro, Tennessee, we took part in the Tullahoma Campaign, under General Rosecrans, participating in the Battle of Hoover's Gap and driving the Rebels back south across the Cumberland Mountains.

We went into camp at Winchester, Tennessee, for a short time. While here we had some experience with a band of bushwhackers in Cumberland Mountains. We were camped about two miles from the base of the mountain and our men were frequently killed or captured by bushwhackers who were supposed to have their headquarters in the mountains near us. I only saved myself from capture at one time while out after blackberries by being a good runner. The fellow that was with me was taken by them. I had three or four rods the start of them in the weeds and brush and made my escape to camp. The time I made is not on record. I don't believe the mile and a half that I had to run was ever beaten by anyone.

Several expeditions were taken trying to capture them fellows, but their camp was hard to find. After about two weeks, the boy that was captured made his escape and was three days finding his way out of the mountains. He never could locate their camp. But a detective was sent after them and we soon had the satisfaction of helping him capture most all of them.


Forming the advance of the 20th Army Corps, we took up our line of march some time in the last of the month of August over the Cumberland Mountains to the little town of Stevenson, Alabama. We crossed the Tennessee River at a place called Caperton's [C.A. Perton's] Ferry, crossing in pontoon boats. It was a fine sight to see so many soldiers on the water and twenty thousand bayonets flashing in the early sunlight and somewhat exciting because we did not know what might be in store for us before we touched land on the other side. But as it happened only a few shots were fired. We found no Rebels to check us. Only a few scouts that escaped out of our way.

Here we began crossing the Sand Mountain. Twenty eight miles and no water to drink; the sun pouring down its heat at the rate of 90 or 100 in the shade and about two inches of red-hot sand under foot. But we got to the base of the mountain about Ten O'clock at night.

The next day we had the Raccoon Mountain to cross, fully as bad as the Sand Mountain. In Will's Valley we rested a few days. Lookout Mountain came next, which we crossed and re-crossed three times in as many days. I don't want to give my opinion of a soldiers life and base it on my feelings about that time. It would not be very encouraging.

We took part in all the operations of the right wing of Rosecrans' Army in the two days Battle of Chicamauga. Of this battle much has been written and it is generally understood that the right wing of Rosecrans' army, or the 20th Corps was whipped, routed, and driven from the field. What the balance of the corps might have done, I cannot say. Our division, the 1st of the 20th Corps was flanked out of its position. The break in the lines was at the right of our regiment and we had to run to save ourselves. But we soon rallied and done some hard fighting after, as we had done before. We took a position facing west (we had been facing southeast) and held our ground until night. At night we changed position but still facing the west and worked all night building breastworks then stayed on the ground the next day, but had no fighting to do. Our pickets were driven in once during the day but the Rebels came no nearer us. Sheridan was our division commander here. History says he never was whipped, neither was his division at Chicamauga.

I had the luck, as did a great many others, of losing my knapsack with all the clothing, blankets, &c which I had carried up to this time and which I sorely needed during the next two months in Chattanooga. I can not tell, and will not attempt to tell, of the suffering of the soldiers surrounded in Chattanooga.

On the 23rd of November, the 8th Kansas covered the front of its brigade as skirmishers and captured Orchard Knob, the headquarters of Generals Grant and Thomas during the battle of the next few days. From here we witnessed the Battle Above the Clouds, or as much as we could see of it. On the 25th of November we took part in the storming of Missionary Ridge, in the front line of battle, and our flag was one of the first if not the first planted on the Rebel works at the summit. I was less than 50 feet from the Rebel works when the last gun in our front was fired and I was not in the lead by any means. If we had faced the other way perhaps I would have been.

(See his tale of the Battle of Chatanooga.)

While in Chattanooga the army, then under General George H. Thomas, was reorganized and we were merged with our brigade into the 4th Corps, 1st Brigade, 3rd Division.

After the Battle of Chattanooga we were ordered to the relief of General Burnside's command at Knoxville, East Tennessee, nearly two hundred miles away, and started for that place November 26th on a forced march, and took part in that dreadful winter campaign in East Tennessee; driving Longstreet's Rebel corps almost to the Virginia line. Then forming a part of the rear guard, covered the retreat of the army from Dandridge back to Strawberry Plains. The regiment was engaged the balance of the winter in building a bridge across the Holston River at Strawberry Plains.

On Jan 1st, four-fifths of the regiment re-enlisted as veterans, returning home in February to enjoy its 30 day furlough. This is about the only time that I can say that I had good times. We were feasted in Nashville and, at St. Louis, treated to a free ride on a steamer to Alton, Illinois and back as the escort and invited guests of our old Commander, General Rosecrans. And at Atchison, the home of our Colonel, John A. Martin, of course the people tried to out-do the other cities, until we were tired of sweet cake and pie and sighed for the old hardtack and sourbelly.

At Leavenworth city we received the greatest ovation of any place we had stopped on our way home. Leavenworth was like home to a great many of us, in fact it was the home of about half of the regiment. Company "B", the Dutch Company of our regiment, all lived here; besides other attractions which made the old city dear to us. The city was decked in its gayest uniform: flags, bunting and streamers, and arches spanned every street. Everywhere could be seen "Welcome 8th Kansas" and on every side could be heard "Hurrah for the 8th Kansas" until we caught the inspiration and helped the Dutch cheer and drink their beer. Old men who had not smiled for a year suddenly became hilarious and could jump and shout like a young Comanchee Indian. Some of our badly wounded were sent here to get well, and they were glad to see us and we were as glad to see them. They forgot their sore wounds, threw away their crutches and the boys carried them through the streets on their shoulders. Such were some of the scenes of rejoicing. I never shall forget it.


On the 4th of March our furloughs were ready and we left for our various homes to enjoy our 30 day liberty; with orders to report April 4th at Fort Leavenworth.

Well, our furloughs ended all too soon. It seemed we had hardly done shaking hands until we were shaking hands again and saying goodbye.

Reassembling at Fort Leavenworth, we had to wait about two weeks for transportation and, while here, the women of the city presented [to us] a bright new flag, [with] the mayor making the presentation and receiving from our Colonel the old flag that we had followed for over two years. We liked our old flag but its days of usefulness were over.

We got transportation by steamboat to Nashville, Tennessee. There we had orders to march through to the front and escort a pontoon train through. We stopped at Chattanooga for a few days rest and while there, we visited the old battleground of Chicamauga and gathered up the bones of some of our comrades who were killed in that battle. We buried them in a cemetery at Chattanooga. I do not remember how many were found and identified. All had been covered over where they fell, but at this time (May 1864) the dirt had been washed away leaving the bones on top of the ground. They were mostly identified by some of the comrades remembering where they fell and by their place in line. It would be unnecessary for me to say that it was a sorrowful funeral cortege that followed these remains to their last resting place.

We continued on to the front in time to take part in that great Atlanta Campaign and to participate in the movements, battles and skirmishes of Sherman's army for the next one hundred days.

It is not for me to attempt to numerate the battles and skirmishes that I was in or to attempt a description of the hardships of this campaign. Only those who participated in it can comprehend it. None can tell it. The marching and counter marching, by night or by day. Over hills and mountains, over rocks and fallen timber. Through valleys of tangled brush and poison vines. Wading or swimming streams; with the enemy in our front, always on the alert, contesting our every step. The shells whistling over our heads or the zip, zip of the bullets past our ears; or the more sickening dull thud as one strikes its intended mark and some poor fellow drops to the ground.

Sleeping at night, if sufficiently exhausted to permit one to shut out the scenes around him, with belts strapped on. One might lay down in his place, in line of battle, with his musket in his arms and possibly sleep soundly - or build breastworks half of the night and try to sleep the other half. To numerate all these must be left to others. For one-hundred days or over we were not out of range of the Rebel bullets.

After the fall of Atlanta, we had time to look at ourselves; our tired bodies and haggard appearances told of the work we had done. Our thinned ranks reminded us only too well of the graves that dotted our line of march from Chattanooga to Atlanta. I will name a few of the hardest battles that the regiment took part in on this campaign but not in their regular order: Buzzard Roost, New Hope Church, Pumpkin Vine Creek, Resaca, Kenesaw Mountain, Peach Tree Creek and, in the movement around Atlanta, the battles of Jonesborough and Lovejoy Station.

I have only given a few [of] those that were called battles. Sometimes a regiment would be engaged hotly all day and lose heavily but it would be called a skirmish. If less troops than one brigade or division was engaged, no matter what the casualties might be, it was only a skirmish.

I was taken sick about the close of the battle of Lovejoy Station and was sent back to Atlanta with the supply train. When I returned to my regiment, a few days after their return to Atlanta, I was too sick for duty and was ordered to the hospital. But I asked to be detailed and sent to the supply train to drive team and that was done. I was not with my regiment for about five or six weeks, until after they had made the march to Pulaski, Tennessee about two hundred miles. This absence from my regiment is the only absence during my entire service and so distinct from my experience in the ranks and so complete within its self that I leave it out of this sketch but sometime I hope to be able to give an account, in full, of myself during that time.

It is not without interest to me; one incident will illustrate. Traveling all night and making a distance of about fifteen miles; sick and without any remembrance of any occurrence on the way. Alone, or at least no acquaintance or anyone that I know of helping me. Only the dark night, dark to my memory. The only way that I can tell that I did travel was where I was in the evening, and where I was found in the morning by my comrades.

Soon after Atlanta was taken, the Rebel, General Hood, tried the flanking movement; and Sherman's army fell back to Rome, Georgia. There Sherman divided his army, sending the 4th and part of the 23rd Corps to entertain Hood's army, while he [Sherman], with the rest of his army, went south to visit Savannah and other cities in the South.

The division in which we belonged made a forced march of about two hundred miles or over, to Pulaski, Tennessee (here I went to my regiment again). Here we found that we were a few days in advance of the Rebels and waited here for them to come up, that we might have a more even race to Nashville, their objective point. We gave them a little entertainment at Spring Hill, and again at Columbia and Franklin. The 8th Kansas had its full share in furnishing the music. The race to Nashville was a hot one and every available point was hotly contested.

Though this remnant of Sherman's army was not whipped in any of the battles above mentioned, it was forced, by being largely outnumbered, to fallback after each battle, until we finally entered the city of Nashville. Here good breastwork were ready for us and we took possession of them and said to the Johnies "Now we have gone to the last ditch. We are not going any farther."

On December 15th and 16th 1864, having received some reinforcements, the army [was] ordered to advance. The 8th Kansas, acting as skirmishers for the brigade, made a run for the Rebel skirmish line and routed them, then for the line of breastworks. [We were] in plain sight and the bullets [were] flying thick and fast. We were placed on the right of the battle line and were advanced to break the Rebel line, which we did, capturing more prisoners than we had men in our ranks.

The next day (the 16th) the division, having been sent to the left of the army, found the Rebels well entrenched and in heavy force behind their works. We made two unsuccessful attempts to drive them out; charging up to within a few rods of their works but being forced back. The third charge was successful.

The result of these two days is a matter of history. The Rebel army of the west was ground to atoms and what was left of it, sent flying across the Tennessee River, Hatch's cavalry crowding them day and night. We followed the cavalry close enough to hear them but not close enough to have any share in the fun. We followed the Tennessee River and then turned to Huntsville, Alabama where we went into winter quarters. This campaign from Nashville; December 15, 1864 to January 10th, 1865, was the most disagreeable winter campaign that can be imagined; though attended with great results as to army movements. And we felt that the end of the war was near, yet the rain and snow and mud was just as bad as it could be and can only be imagined by those who have had the experience of winter campaign. At Nashville was our 23rd and last battle. Our stay at Huntsville was only for a short time. We marched from Huntsville, Alabama to Greenville, East Tennessee. A distance of about two hundred fifty or three hundred miles on our way to join the Eastern army in Virginia. We had telegraph dispatches read to us every day from Grant's army in Virginia and knew that the end of the war was near at hand. The last few days of our march, and before reaching Greenville, we would be halted on the road every few hours and, standing in the rain, listened to the good news read to us by our officers from these dispatches. I remember some of them so well that I will repeat some of them here. "Our men whipped the Rebels in every engagement. Though in the mud and rain, are in good spirits. "Sheridan has captured Lee's supply train. "Richmond is evacuated and is burning. "Lee's army cut off from their retreat and surrounded. "Grant has demanded an unconditional surrender. "Grant and Lee have met and are arranging terms of surrender." And at last word comes- "Lee has surrendered and peace is declared."

You may imagine the effect such news would have in our ranks. It would be a waste of time for me to try to tell how the news was received. This was on the 9th of April, 1865. On the 15th of the same month another dispatch was read to us turning our joy into sorrow, our rejoicing into mourning. This dispatch read "Lincoln was assassinated last night." The scenes change. In the camp, where a few hours before good humor and good feeling reigned supreme, can be heard the mutterings of an awful storm. Then the truth is at last fully understood. Ten thousand well disciplined old soldiers, who have obeyed every order of their superior officers for four years, become an angry infuriated mob. Belts are strapped on. Guns grabbed from the stack. The streets of the little village of Greenville become a scurrying mass of armed soldiers. If asked what they are looking for, the answer would be "I want to see some citizen with a smile on his face, some man that looks like he was glad that Lincoln is dead." I don't remember that any one was killed or that any fires were started in the town, but the citizens were in terrible fear and well they might be. The mob could not be broken up until they were satisfied. The officers were powerless to do anything. Armed squads would be sent in to drive out the mob or to protect the citizens and would themselves join the mob and this continued two or three days.

Finally orders to "pack up" and march back to Nashville. The orders, being sounded through the streets by mounted orderlies, worked like magic and soon we were on the move. We marched to Bulls Gap, and here took the cars for Nashville.

At Nashville, we were encamped at about four miles southwest of the city. Here we were received by General Thomas for the last time and [this was] the last time that the 4th Corps touched elbows in line. Soon after being broken up, part of them were sent home for discharge. The Third division, to which we belonged, was ordered to Texas. The regiment returned in February 1866, for final discharge.

I got permission to go home from Nashville; on account of the sickness of my father. I left the regiment at Cairo, Illinois, they having taken the boat at Johnsonville, Tennessee for New Orleans. I arrived home on the 21st of June, but too late to see my father. He was buried a few days before. I could only stay a few days at home, so I reported at Fort Leavenworth and got an order for transportation to New Orleans. But before I got transportation, a general order was received to discharge all absentees, on furlough or otherwise, except the sick in hospital. So my order for transportation was of no account to me, and I had to accept my discharge to date, June 17th, 1865. To tell the truth I was not sorry. My mother needed my help at home more than the government needed me in Texas.



This is a dull sketch I know but maybe as it is, it will give any soldier or civilian who was an interested observer of the event of the war a fairly comprehensive idea of the part I took with my regiment in that great struggle. We not only saw all the pomp and circumstance of war, but all of its ghastly devastation, misery and despair as well. The 8th Kansas sounded alike, all the notes of war's fear and of its dirge. The tramp of its swift and steady march echoed on the highways of twelve different states. The 8th Kansas bayonets flashed from Fort Laramie to the Gulf of Mexico, and from Kansas to North Carolina. At Nashville it did duty in white gloves. At Strawberry Plains it was shirtless, shoeless and in rags. It was feasted in Kansas and starved in Chattanooga, hunted guerillas in Missouri and combated Longstreet's veterans at Chicamauga. Stormed the blazing heights of Missionary Ridge and fought a continuous battle from Chattanooga to Atlanta. It broke the lines of Hood at Nashville, It built roads, bridged rivers, convoyed trains, destroyed rail roads, operated mills, policed cities, gathered crops and made history; and, with the calm and patient endurance of a soldier, its duty was always performed. It was an honor to have belonged to such an organization and I am glad that I was permitted to enter its ranks and to have a share in the record it made during its four years service. We brought back to the State, and deposited in the Capitol at Topeka, the torn and faded flags that all the wealth of this year's harvest could not buy. And Kansas has promised to preserve among her priceless treasures as long as her government shall endure, those ragged and faded flags, all that remains of the 8th Kansas Volunteer Infantry except the few hundred scattered survivors, and the history with which it glorified the name of Kansas.


Moses McCleary (Junior)
Company "F"
8th Kansas Volunteer Infantry

(See his record of Honors Received.)

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