r five hours it waged, most of the time across
the village street, not more than sixty feet wide, and during those five
hours every recruit there felt the force of Gen. Sherman's
characterization--"War is hell."

Jackman, with a party of thirty seasoned men, charged the Indiana guns,
and captured them, but Major Foster led a gallant charge against the
invaders, and recaptured the pieces. We were out of ammunition, and were
helpless, had the fight been pressed.

Riding to the still house where we had left the wagon munitions we had
taken a few days before at Independence, I obtained a fresh supply and
started for the action on the gallop.

Of that mad ride into the camp I remember little except that I had my
horse going at full tilt before I came into the line of fire. Although
the enemy was within 150 yards, I was not wounded. They did mark my
clothes in one or two places, however.

Major Foster, in a letter to Judge George M. Bennett of Minneapolis, said:

"During the progress of the fight my attention was called to a young
Confederate riding in front of the Confederate line, distributing
ammunition to the men from what seemed to be a 'splint basket.' He rode
along under a most galling fire from our side the entire length of the
Confederate lines, and when he had at last disappeared, our boys
recognized his gallantry in ringing cheers. I was told by some of our men
from the western border of the state that they recognized the daring young
rider as Cole Younger. About 9:30 a.m., I was shot down. The wounded of
both forces were gathered up and were placed in houses. My brother and I,
both supposed to be mortally wounded, were in the same bed. About an hour
after the Confederates left the field, the ranking officer who took
command when I became unconscious, gathered his men together and returned
to Lexington. Soon after the Confederates returned. The first man who
entered my room was a guerrilla, followed by a dozen or more men who
seemed to obey him. He was personally known to me and had been my enemy
from before the war. He said he and his men had just shot a lieutenant of
a Cass county company whom they found wounded and that he would shoot me
and my brother. While he was standing over us, threatening us with his
drawn pistol, the young man I had seen distributing ammunition along in
front of the Confederate line rushed into the room from the west door and
seizing the fellow, thrust him out of the roo