Chapter II: Part 2

Congress had passed a law making the course at West Point five, instead of four years, which necessitated dividing the class ahead of mine in two parts, so that our class was more than twice as large as either of the two classes preceding it. It may be that there was more or less disposition to equalize the classes. However that may be, in the February examination, I was found deficient in mathematics and resigned. Although realizing that I had no just complaint, I was so greatly humiliated, I was ashamed to go home.

I therefore wrote my father that, as he had favored me above the rest of his children, I wished him to leave me out of any consideration in the distribution of his property, but to give it exclusively to my brothers and sisters, and that I would show the world I could make a living for myself.

Although not a graduate, I have always had the greatest respect for the teachings and discipline of the academy. I believe the U. S. Military Academy has turned out the best officers known to the world's history. Schaff says, in "The Spirit of old West Point," that my class was not only the largest, but the most distinguished during that period. Of this class nine became general officers, and nine were killed in battle.

EARLY DAYS IN TEXAS

I went to Texas, then a small State, _via_ the Ohio and Mississippi rivers from Cincinnati to New Orleans, thence up the Red River to Shreveport, and from there to McKinney, Colin County, on foot, arriving in April, 1857.

Here I made the acquaintance of Judge R. L. Waddell, the judge of that district, formerly a member of Congress from Kentucky. He offered to get me a school, stating that he had five children who ought to be taught, and gave me the privilege of studying law with him. As I had nothing else to do, I commenced teaching a class of sixty scholars, studying and reciting law to him meanwhile.

Judge Waddell had a plantation near the town and, in his absence on the circuit, placed me in charge of his affairs, including the management of the plantation and his thirty slaves. A strong Union man and earnestly opposed to slavery, Judge Waddell often told me that if his slaves could make a living for themselves he would freely manumit them. But they could not, and he was justified in holding them for their own sakes as long as he could. It was here that I became acquainted with the negro character, its childish simplicity and numerous admirable traits.

The judge was a remarkable man and a most worthy character, unselfish and law abiding. I have often heard him refuse cases because he could not defend clients believing them guilty. He treated me as a son, giving me much good advice. He never entered a saloon and advised me not to, which advice I practically have followed all my life.

At McKinney I met Sam Houston, a personal friend of Judge Waddell. Although then an old man and I a very young one, he took quite an interest in me, and we took many walks together in Trinity Bottom, where, one day, he cut a stick of osage orange (bois d'arc) which he fashioned into a cane and presented to me, and which I have to this day.

In teaching school at McKinney, I adopted Charlie Naylor's methods of avoiding corporal punishment, but there was a surly rowdy about eighteen years old, as large as I was, who often made trouble with the other scholars, even after I threatened to punish him if he did not change. One afternoon, a little boy ran up to me, saying: "Master, you better look out for Tom Shane; he's got a pistol, and he's going to shoot you."

Tom, as usual, was late. When I saw him coming, I placed myself just inside the door. As he entered I seized him by the collar, saying, "Tom, give me that pistol!" He was so overcome by surprise that he handed it to me without a word.

I took it to Tom's father, a blacksmith. Young Shane probably received a more severe punishment that night than I could have given him. After that, I had no more trouble.

At this time there was great excitement between North and South, caused principally by the troubles resulting from the settlement of Kansas and the many conflicts between those who were taking slaves there and those who were determined it should be a free State. The negroes became so excited the legislature passed a law making it a felony for any person to teach a negro how to read or write. The new statute also prohibited free negroes from living in the State, and set a date on which all free negroes who had failed to choose a master would be sold into slavery.

One Sunday, a large free negro blacksmith about twenty-eight or thirty years old came into Judge Waddell's office and asked me if it were true that he would have to choose a master or be sold into slavery. I told him it was. He then asked me to be his master, that he might avoid being sold to another. For many reasons I declined, though I could have sold him for a thousand dollars. As he had means, I advised him to go where he would not be sold. I never knew what became of him.

During the winter there were four or five times as many fires in adjacent counties as there had ever been before. It was generally believed that Northern abolition influence had been communicated to the negroes, and that they were trying to terrorize their masters. Consequently, a law was passed forbidding negroes to remain out at night, and authorizing anyone to arrest and take to jail more than two negroes found together.

I remained in McKinney about a year, when the Butterfield Overland Mail was chartered from St. Louis to San Francisco, an eighteen-day journey, with daily service each way. El Paso was a promising Mexican settlement, and would probably be the half-way house, and eventually a place of some importance. I therefore bid Judge Waddell good-bye and started for El Paso. Before going, however, I visited my father, going with a Mr. Ditto of Kentucky through the Cherokee Nation, where we bought a small drove of very beautiful little Indian ponies, and drove them to St. Louis and sold them. I remained a month or so with my father and, upon returning to Texas, on my father's advice, took my brother Will to McKinney, and he took up school teaching where I left off.

EL PASO EXPERIENCES

The journey to El Paso, where I arrived on the eighth of May, 1858, was through the most desolate country, with Indians on all sides, some hostile and some friendly. Coyotes and other wild animals abounded, but most interesting were the numerous buffalo east of the Pecos. There were literally millions. I have seen the plains black with them and, when moving, which they did at a kind of lope or gallop, I have felt the earth tremble under the impress of their heavy shoulders. When we encountered one of these moving herds, so impetuous in its advance no obstacle could resist it, we would turn the coach horses in the direction of its flight and the passengers would dismount and fire their guns to scare the buffalo away.

At a station, near the Pecos River, that had been robbed by the Indians, we had to remain two or three days, until we received fresh horses. The Indians had carried off all the eatables, except some corn and sugar, and we parched and ground the corn into meal with the coffee mill and boiled it with sugar to keep us alive until relief came.

Save for this one delay, we made this distressing journey without stopping night or day except for meals. If I gave up my seat at a station there was no certainty that I would get a place in the next coach, so we all stuck to our seats, although passengers sometimes became crazed for want of sleep, and one or two had dashed into the desert and been lost.

After seven days' and nights' travel, when I arrived at the bluffs overlooking the valley of the Rio Grande, I thought it was the most pleasant sight I had ever seen. When we drove into the town, which consisted of a ranch of some hundred and fifty acres in cultivation in beautiful grape, apple, apricot, pear, and peach orchards, watermelons, grain, wheat and corn, it seemed still more beautiful, especially when, under the shade of the large cottonwood trees along the acequias (canals for irrigation), we saw Mexican girls selling fruits of all kinds grown on the opposite side of the river at what was known as Paso del Norte, a city of thirteen thousand people, controlled by well-to-do and educated Spaniards.

The town on the American side was simply a ranch owned by "Uncle Billy" Smith, an illiterate Kentuckian. One Franklin Coontz asked to be made postmaster, and when the Post Office Department informed him he would first have to name the office, he named it after himself, "Franklin."

Mr. Smith was generous, but unbusiness-like. He had given or sold small parcels of land to many who built without any survey having been made. Two or three hundred people lived here, mostly Mexicans and their families, engaged in cultivating the ranch. There were three wholesale stores which sold goods brought up by mule trains from Kansas City via Santa Fe to supply the needs of Paso del Norte, Chihuahua City and other towns in Chihuahua. The Butterfield Overland Mail established a headquarters with many employees and made Franklin somewhat of a money center. The Mexican disposition to gamble and the wild and lawless character of the times brought perhaps twenty professional gamblers to Franklin.

The Texan war with Mexico for independence, in 1836, and the war between the United States and Mexico, in 1847, together with the hostile Indians on the north of the Rio Grande during the early Spanish settlement, forced most of the population and wealth to the Mexican side of the Rio Grande. Few towns on the American side were of any importance. The county seat of El Paso County was then San Elisario, twenty miles below Franklin, with about twelve hundred inhabitants. When I arrived in El Paso it was dangerous to go far from the village. Mesquite root gatherers were attacked, the men killed and the animals driven off within a half-mile from the village.

But on the Mexican side were large, wealthy towns, with good society and well ordered governments. After the Doniphan expedition to Chihuahua, our government had established Fort Bliss, a mile and a half below El Paso, with seven companies of infantry and mounted rifles. I made the acquaintance of the officers, finding several who had been cadets with me at the academy, among them a classmate, Will Jones, the adjutant. Through them I got an earlier standing among the people than would otherwise have been possible for me to do.

The act of annexation of Texas to the United States provided that Texas retain her public lands. The El Paso and Presidio land district included all territory west of the Pecos River (El Paso and Presidio Counties), an area larger than New Jersey.

With the recommendation of the army officers and Judge Crosby of that judicial district, I was appointed surveyor for that district by the State government. Immediately I had plenty of work on pending locations for two hundred miles below Franklin, many tracts embracing five thousand acres each, and also the reservations leased by the War Department for the posts of Quitman, Davis, Stockton, and Fort Bliss. All of them I surveyed within the next year.

The Overland Mail Company also employed me to build a station covering almost an entire block.

At my suggestion, Judge J. F. Crosby, J. S. and H. S. Gillett, W. J. Morton, and V. St. Vrain formed a company with Mr. Smith, the owner of the Ponce grant, on which Franklin was located, employing me to lay out a town, as Freemont's projected Memphis, El Paso & Pacific Railroad, the advent of the Overland Mail and westward immigration made it necessary to enlarge the village.

I made a survey and a plan of the town. As the houses had been built at random, without a survey, on plots given by Mr. Smith, the few streets were neither parallel nor at right angles. I had difficulty in making a plan agreeable to the then owners. I made several different sketches before I produced one that all six proprietors adopted and signed. All these original sketches, together with a copy of the first map, are still preserved in the El Paso Public Library. (Cut, 56, 57.)

The work, which I was glad to get, occupied me two months. My pay was one hundred dollars and four lots--Nos. 116, 117, 134 and 137--valued at fifty dollars each.

Franklin Coontz turned out an undesirable citizen, and it was suggested that I rename the city. As this was not only the north and south pass of the Rio Grande through the Rocky Mountains but also the only feasible route from east to west crossing that river, for hundreds of miles, I suggested that El Paso would indicate the importance of the location. It was decided to so name it.

According to an act of Congress, approved June 5, 1858, a commission to establish the boundary between Texas and the Territory of New Mexico was organized. John H. Clark was appointed United States Commissioner and Major William R. Scurry, Texas Commissioner. After they established the initial point near what is now called Anthony, there was a disagreement, and the Texas Commission surveyor resigned. Major Scurry appointed me in his place.

The commission, with its escort of two companies of the Seventh Infantry, Lieutenant Lazelle commanding, was a very pleasant organization aside from the quarrel between the commissioners. Major Scurry was a most genial companion. Mr. Clark was ambitious in his assumption of highly scientific attainments and overbearing to those he deemed not his equal in such acquirements.

Major Scurry, like Judge Waddell, took quite an interest in me. The three army officers and one or two members of the commission often played poker for stakes. The bets were not large, but Major Scurry, observing that I generally lost, said to me one day: "Mr. Mills, you ought never to play poker. You are not qualified for it. A poker player has to be a cold-blooded man. I can look into your face every time you draw a hand and tell just about what you have drawn. I advise you never to play another game, for you will never succeed in it." And I never did.

The disagreements between the United States and Texas commissioners became acute. As I thought Mr. Clark was mostly to blame, when Major Scurry finally resigned, I did also.

I never saw Major Scurry again, but learned that he raised a Confederate regiment and was killed at the head of his troops in a battle with Banks' Expedition on the upper Red River.

On returning to El Paso, I wrote to my brother, W. W., whose school term had expired, that I had secured him a position as clerk in the sutler's store at Fort Fillmore. He held this position a year, and then joined me in El Paso. He had enough money to buy a lot, on which I built him a house, costing about a thousand dollars.

W. W. and I then sent for our brother Emmett, and we three built a ranch eighteen miles above El Paso, called "Los Tres Hermanos." Emmett occupied this ranch, which was made into a Santa Fe mail station.

Previously I lived on lot No. 116 in a tent, doing my own cooking. I built myself a nice adobe house, doing much of the work myself. Mexican peons made the bricks from a mixture of adobe soil and straw. They were two feet by one foot, four inches thick, and dried in the sun. These were very substantial, withstood the rain and made a house cool in the daytime and warm at night. The house was on the bank of a ditch supplying running water to the farm and under many cottonwood trees. In summer I often slept on the adobe earth roof. Strange to say, even in the hardest rains the water would seldom go through the roof, which was about eight inches thick.

At the same time I built my house, I superintended building houses for many others.

PLAT
OF THE
TOWN OF ELPASO.
DIMENSIONS
BLOCKS 160 FEET SQUARE.
LOTS 86 FEET 8 INCHES BY 120 FEET.
STREETS 70 FEET WIDE.
ALLEYS 20.
PROPRIETORS.
J.S. GILLETT, H.S. GILLETT,
J.F. CROSBY, W.J. MORTON,
V. ST. VRAIN, W.T. SMITH,
ANSON MILLS,
FEB. 28, 1859. SURVEYOR.

SCALE 200 FEET TO THE INCH

PROPERTY SOLD AND IMPROVED BEFORE THE TOWN WAS LAID OFF INDICATED BY
BROKEN LINES

_J. McKITTRICK & CO. LITH. 36 M. MAIN ST._]

I early learned the ways of the roaming Indians, and in my surveying expeditions took only a burro for my pack and two Mexicans for chain carriers. I wore a buckskin suit made by myself, and carried a single change of underclothing. We moved from tract to tract, camping without a tent under the mesquite trees, our provisions consisting only of coffee, hard bread and bacon, and occasionally some fresh meat we could kill. Although Indians undoubtedly saw us, they never attacked us during the three years in which I did surveying. The risk of being killed to secure only one animal and a small amount of provisions was not worth while.

My principal employer was Mr. Samuel A. Maverick, of San Antonio, formerly from South Carolina. A run-away boy, he had joined an expedition of about twenty men, which invaded Mexico at the town of Mier prior to the Mexican war. The party was captured. The Mexicans put ten white beans in a bag with ten black ones, ordering them to draw a bean each. Those who got the black beans were immediately shot. Maverick began locating land soon after the war and became the largest land-holder in Texas, if not in the United States.

He owned more cattle on the free public range than any other man in Texas. In 1861 nearly all the people went into the war. Maverick's cattle ran wild on the range, and, when the war closed there were tens of thousands of cattle bred during the four years. Maverick was the greatest claimant to these wild cattle, and marked them with his brand wherever caught. Other owners, and even men who had never owned cattle, would brand with their own marks such cattle as they caught unbranded. It thus became the custom among cattle owners using the free range to stamp as their own any unbranded cattle they found during the "round up," and to this day these stray cattle are known as "Mavericks."

Maverick accompanied me on every surveying expedition I made, following my tracings and examining my notes. He expressed the greatest patriotism as a Unionist, was bitterly opposed to the then proposed secession, as were most Texans, including Governor Houston.

When placer and quartz gold was discovered in the Penos Altos range of mountains in Arizona, near the present Silver City, Maverick requested me to find how valuable these mines were. With a gambler (Conklin) I bought a good two-horse team and traveled the hundred and fifty miles to reach these mines.

At Penos Altos I met James R. Sipes, a clerk for Postmaster Dowell. I said, "Hello, Sipes, how is it; is there plenty of gold here?"

He laughed and answered, "Mills, there is the greatest quantity of gold here, but there is too damned much dirt mixed with it!" which I found to be true.

Locating a claim, I worked a month, 8,000 feet above sea level, where in the day it was scorching hot and at night freezing cold, and discovered that by hard work I could make about three dollars a day. Fortunately, I had brought my surveying instruments, so I abandoned mining and laid out the town of Penos Altos. I also surveyed many claims, about which there were constant disputes. But I soon returned to El Paso, reporting to Maverick that the mines were not of sufficient importance to interest him.

At this time slavery agitation became very violent, creating unrest in Texas, especially among the New England emigrants, who became the most rabid secessionists of all. Some of my friends in the North wrote me what would today be called treasonable literature, sending me the New York Tribune with the most violent abolition articles marked. Postmaster Ben Dowell was induced to open my mail, and later refused to deliver any to me, forming a committee to burn it publicly!

When my term as district surveyor expired, I was the only candidate for election, being the only person in the county competent to survey land. But several political enemies publicly stated that I was an abolitionist, and that it would be unpatriotic to vote for me. As I had always been a Democrat, voting for Sam Houston and Stephen A. Douglas, and never sympathized at all with the abolition movement, I posted the following notice on a tree:

_Notice_

I have just been informed that J. S. Gillett, W. J. Morton, and
J. R. Sipes stated last night to R. Doane and F. Remy that I was
an abolitionist, for the purpose of injuring my character. As I
never cast any other than a Democratic vote or expressed other
than Democratic sentiments, I denounce these three above-named
persons as wilful and malicious lying scoundrels. Sipes and
Morton owe me borrowed money for the last two years. I would
like to have a settlement. I never asked any one to vote for me
as surveyor and I now withdraw my name as a candidate, and will
not serve if elected.

A. MILLS.
EL PASO, TEXAS.
2 O'Clock, P.M., August 6, 1860.

The men I denounced tacked their reply on the same tree, as follows:

_Notice_

A certain contemptible "pup," signing himself A. Mills, having
publicly published the undersigned as scoundrels, we have only
to say that he is so notoriously known throughout the entire
county as a damned black Republican scoundrel, we deem him
unworthy of further notice.

However, we hereby notify this fellow that his insignificance
shall not protect him in future.

W. J. MORTON,
J. R. SIPES,
JOHN S. GILLETT.

Then, I received this letter:

EL PASO, TEXAS,
August 7, 1860.
MR. MILLS:

SIR: I have noticed my name in connection with two
others denouncing us publicly as malicious, lying scoundrels.

For my part, I now ask of you an immediate retraction of the
same, and as publicly as your accusation.

JOHN S. GILLETT.

Gillett, a wealthy wholesale merchant, had fought a duel with an army officer. As I paid no attention to his implied challenge, he sent word he would attack me on sight. I always went armed, and though we often met, he never carried out his threat. After the war he became a common drunkard, very poor, living with a Mexican woman. I often met him, and he frequently asked me for a quarter (which I gave him), stating that he was hungry. What horrible miseries war brings about. He wanted to be an honorable man.

In my address before the Society of the Army of the Cumberland (Appendix 390) will be found a statement of some of the reasons which led to political unrest in Texas, and particularly why vigilance committees were formed in many counties. Many people were lynched; principally Germans--especially at New Braunfels and vicinity--who voted against secession or denounced the principle.

I was ordered before the vigilance committee of El Paso County by the sheriff, John Watts. I told him no one man could take me, and I knew that he was not coward enough to bring a posse. He said: "Mills, I'll never come for you." And he never did.

I was notified by this same committee that the vote of the county must be unanimous for secession, and that I would imperil my life if I voted against it.

Phil Herbert, a violent secessionist and a personal friend of mine, came to my house on election day and said, "Mills, are you going to vote?" I said that I was. "Well," he said, "I know how you are going to vote. I am going to vote for secession, but I would like to go with you. If there is trouble, I will defend you." He had a pistol and advised me to carry one, and we went together to the polling place. This was in a large gambling house, in which was Ben Dowell's post office. The judge of the election was Judge Gillock, recently from Connecticut, a violent secessionist.

Herbert and I entered, arm in arm, and Herbert first presented his ballot, which Gillock received and cast into the ballot box near the door. I drew from my pocket a sheet of foolscap paper on which was written, "No separation--Anson Mills," in large letters, and, unfolding it, I held it up to the sight of half a dozen army officers and others playing billiards, faro and other gambling games, saying, "Gentlemen, some of you may be curious to know how I am going to vote. This is my ballot." Gillock refused to receive it, but Herbert said, peremptorily, "That is a legal vote. Place it in the box." And Gillock did so. We left the room unmolested.

My vote was one of the two cast against secession in El Paso County, when there were over nine hundred cast for secession. Some were legal, but the majority, cast by Mexican citizens from the other side of the river, were not.

My friends, particularly Herbert, felt it would be foolhardy to remain longer. Herbert went to Richmond, joined the Confederacy, and was killed in the Battle of Mansfield, La., at the head of his regiment.

I decided to go to Washington and join the Federal forces. The evening before I left, Colonel Reeve, commanding Fort Bliss, invited me to dinner with his adjutant, my classmate, Will Jones. During the dinner, Colonel Reeve remarked that he did not want to obey Twiggs' order to surrender to the Texans (text, 71) because he had large government stores, which would be of great value in case of war to either the government or the Confederates. Therefore, he wanted me to see the Secretary of War, and explain the circumstances, and get him verbal or written authority to take his command and this property into New Mexico.

When I finally arrived in Washington, I explained the situation to Judge Watts, who went with me to Secretary Cameron and delivered Reeves's message. I agreed to take back to El Paso any verbal message that the Secretary would entrust to me, but Mr. Cameron was so uncertain as to what might happen that he refused, saying that Colonel Reeve must act on his own judgment.

I had been prosperous and was well-to-do. But now men who owed me refused to pay, and all I owed demanded immediate payment. It was all I could do to raise money enough to take me to Washington. The baggage allowance was but forty pounds, so I left everything I had to the mercy of my political enemies. I did not dream that it would be twenty years before I again saw El Paso.

IN WASHINGTON

We left in the coach on the 9th of March, 1861. I was one of eight passengers. Some were going to Richmond and some to Washington, but we agreed, as this was expected to be the last coach to go through, to stand by each other and declare we were all going on business.

The secessionists had organized several companies of State troops commanded by the McCullough brothers and others, with instructions from the bogus legislature commission to take over the military posts and property according to General Twiggs' treaty (text, 71). We met part of this force, under the younger McCullough, near Fort Chadbourne, and we were all excitement to know what they would do, as it was rumored they would seize the mail company horses for cavalry. Marching in columns of two, they separated, one column to the right and the other to the left of the stage coach.

We told the driver to drive fast and to say he was carrying United States mail. The soldiers laughed at this, and four of them, taking hold of the right-hand wheels and four of the left, the driver could not, with the greatest whipping, induce the horses to proceed. They laughed again, and called out: "Is Horace Greeley aboard?"

Horace Greeley had been lecturing in California, and had announced his return by the Butterfield route. The soldiers were familiar with his picture and, after examining us, allowed us to proceed.

When we reached Denton, the county seat of Denton County, my old friend Judge Waddell was holding court, and while the rest of the party ate breakfast, I went to the courthouse. Judge Waddell recognized me, adjourned the court and, taking my arm, walked out in the courtyard. We were in full sympathy. He was a thorough Union man and knew I would be glad to know the flag was still flying over the McKinney courthouse. This was about the 13th of March. He was proud that I was to join the Union Army, and said that if he was without a family he would also go.

We arrived at the town of California, terminus of the Missouri & Pacific Railroad, in a snowstorm. We had had but little sleep and little to eat for several days. While waiting for the train for St. Louis, I went to sleep in a chair so soundly my companions could not waken me in time to catch the train. The hotel proprietor had me put to bed. I did not waken until the next morning. I arrived at St. Louis Sunday, found that there was no train out and, having a classmate stationed at the arsenal, Lieutenant Borland, I decided to visit him.

I did not know that General Lyon had just captured General Frost and the Missouri troops forming for the Confederacy in a camp outside the city. There was a great crowd standing around the arsenal with a sentinel outside the gate. I pressed my way through the crowd and told the sentinel I desired to visit Lieutenant Borland. The sentinel would not let me pass, but called the sergeant. The sergeant asked me where I was from. When I answered, "From Texas," he said I could not enter. Just then Captain Lyon, later General Lyon, came out. In a rough manner he asked me where I was from and what I wanted. When I told him I was simply passing through the city, he said, "Well, you had better go back to your hotel, or I will put you in the guard house." I took his advice.

Monday, I left for Washington _via_ Thorntown and Cincinnati. Telling my father of my purpose, he called a neighbor, Harvey G. Hazelrigg. "Well, Anson," said Hazelrigg, "my brother-in-law, Caleb B. Smith, is Secretary of the Interior. I will give you a letter to him."

At Cincinnati I saw Lieutenant Jones' father and mother and gave them the messages he did not want to pass through the mail; in effect, that he would be loyal to his country, and that if ordered to fire on Cincinnati by the Federal Government, under his oath he would execute the order.

In Washington I found two captains in the Adjutant General's office, Fry and Baird, one of whom had been adjutant at the military academy, and the other my instructor when I was a cadet. I told them of my desire for a commission, and asked them from what State I should apply. They advised me not to apply from Texas, nor from Pennsylvania, which would have several times its quota, as the Secretary of War was from that State. Eventually, I applied from New Mexico.

Charlie Hazlett, of my class, from Zanesville, Ohio, later killed while commanding a battery at Gettysburg, had been turned back to the class below. I wrote him, asking if he could help me. Calling a meeting of the class, he read my letter, and every member signed the following recommendation, except four, who were to join the Confederacy, and who sent an apology to me, stating that they did not think it would be proper for them to sign:

UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY,
WEST POINT, N. Y.,
April 30, 1861.

LORENZO THOMAS, Adjutant General,
Washington, D. C.

DEAR SIR: We, the undersigned, members of the First
Class at the United States Military Academy, respectfully
recommend to your favorable consideration the claims of Mr.
Anson Mills, an applicant for a commission as Second Lieutenant
in the United States Army.

Mr. Mills was formerly a member, for nearly two years, of the
class preceding ours, when he resigned.

During that time his habits and character conformed to the
strictest military propriety and discipline, and we feel assured
that he would be an honor to the service and that its interests
would be promoted by his appointment.

Respectfully submitted.

Hazlett suggested I see General Scott and prevent the four cadets above mentioned from getting their diplomas. Captain Townsend introduced me to the General. When he read Hazlett's letter, he said those four cadets should not receive their diplomas until they had taken the oath. They never did graduate, and all four joined the rebellion.

A few days afterward, this class was prematurely graduated and ordered to report to General Scott. They started in their cadet uniforms, wearing their swords. In New York the police took them for Confederates, and in Philadelphia the whole class was arrested and detained all night, until the police got authority from Washington to let them proceed.

Upon arrival at Washington, they reported to General Scott, who asked them if they had all recently taken the oath. They replied that they had and he, in the vernacular of the bibulous, said, "Well, gentlemen, it is a good thing to take. I don't mind taking it every morning before breakfast." He invited one of them to administer it to him, and then, asking them in a body to raise their right hands, he administered the oath to the whole class.

MY BROTHERS IN TEXAS

One of my first acts in Washington was to call on Secretary of the Interior Smith. There were three or four gentlemen present, two being members of the Cabinet, one of whom was Montgomery Blair, a graduate of the academy.

I presented my letter. Mr. Smith read it, and in a violent rage, said: "Well, so you are from Texas? Do you know what I wish? I wish the Indians would come down on the people of Texas and murder the men, women and children. They have received more consideration from this government than any other State in the Union, and now they have betrayed it."

I left the room, indignant, after addressing some plain remarks to Mr. Smith.

The next day I met Mr. Blair, while walking.

"Mr. Mills," he said, "for heaven's sake don't repeat what happened at Mr. Smith's last night, lest it get into the papers. Don't be discouraged. Your experience at West Point will doubtless enable you to get into the army."

I had heard nothing from my brothers, W. W. in El Paso, and Emmett on the ranch, but some time after I received my commission and had left Washington I saw in a New Orleans paper that W. W. had been taken prisoner at Lynde's surrender, and that Emmett, in trying to escape to California, had been murdered by the Indians, July 21st, at Cook Springs, Arizona. All the passengers and the stage driver were killed after a two days' siege in the rocks above the springs, and their bodies had been found by the California column of troops going to El Paso. Immediately I wrote to Mr. Smith, as follows:

TOLEDO, OHIO,
Oct. 7, 1861.
CALEB B. SMITH,
Secretary Interior.

SIR: I am sorry to acknowledge that your "hope and prayer,"
as expressed to me at your residence in April last--"that the
Mexicans and Indians would come down on the Texans and murder
the men and children and ravish the women," has been partially
heard. One of my two brothers (whom I left in Texas last March
and who, not being able to procure means to carry them to the
States, were compelled to go to Southern New Mexico for Union
sentiments, where they joined the 1st Regt. N. M. Vols.), was
brutally murdered by the Apache Indians, on the 21st of July at
Cook Springs. The other was taken prisoner at Lynde's surrender.
I think too much of our cause to speak publicly of these matters
at present, and only write you this note to remind you that I
shall one day hold you personally responsible for the above
language.

Very respectfully,
ANSON MILLS, 1st Lt., 18th Inf.

To this I received the following answer:

WASHINGTON, D. C.,
October 14, 1861.
LT. ANSON MILLS,

SIR: I am in receipt of your letter of the 7th inst.,
referring to a conversation which you allege occurred at my
house in April last. I have no distinct recollection of the
conversation to which you refer, but I know that I felt much
indignation toward the rebels and traitors of Texas, who not
only repudiated the authority of the Federal Government, but
expelled from the State the friends of the Union. I thought
there was less excuse for them than the rebels of the other
States, because they were indebted to the Federal Government
for protection against the Mexicans and Indians. In expressing
my indignation against their conduct I may have expressed the
hope that the Mexicans and Indians would attack them. I intended
to express only the wish that they might be made to feel the
value of the protection they had forfeited. I certainly did not
suppose that my language could be construed to imply a wish that
the Union men who had been expelled from their homes by these
rebels should suffer from such agencies.

I regret very much to hear of the misfortunes which have
befallen your brothers and which add to the long catalogue of
evils which have resulted from this most unnatural rebellion.
For the last five months I have been urging the War Department
to send troops to New Mexico to protect the loyal people of
that territory and keep the Indians in proper subjugation. If
my urgent request upon this subject had been complied with,
the disaster which has befallen your brothers would not have
occurred.
Very respectfully,
CALEB B. SMITH.

I learned later that the newspaper was incorrect and that my brother W. W. was unlawfully seized by the Texans in Mexico as a spy.

Smith soon afterward left the Cabinet.

I learned later of the events which led to my brother's death. The Texan Rangers, under the McCulloughs and Colonel Baylor, were rapidly receiving the surrenders stipulated in the treaty between Twiggs and the Texas commissioners. My brother, W. W., much persecuted and threatened, wrote to Judge Watts of the disloyalty of Captain Lane and several other officers at Forts Bliss and Fillmore. Then he went to Santa Fe to confer with Colonel Canby, in command of the Department of New Mexico, to explain the large quantities of government stores at Fort Bliss, and the danger that they might fall into the hands of the rebels. Colonel Canby had already sent Major Lynde with reinforcements aggregating seven hundred and fifty men to Fort Fillmore, directing Lynde to relieve Lane. Canby sent my brother to Fort Fillmore to report to Major Lynde with dispatches.

Lynde was reluctant to believe many of his officers either disloyal or in sympathy with those who were. My brother found that his letter addressed to Judge Watts had been made public and both the loyal and disloyal officers were angry, and treated him with much discourtesy.

Baylor had arrived in El Paso and received the surrender of Colonel Reeve's command, with all his stores and property, and Reeve and his troops had started on their march to San Antonio as prisoners. My brother urged Lynde to retake Fort Bliss and the government property with his seven hundred and fifty men, as Baylor was reported to have only three hundred men, poorly armed and equipped. Lynde hesitated, fearing Baylor's force was too large, but promised my brother if he would go down to Paso del Norte on the Mexican side of the river and ascertain positively that the strength of Baylor's command was no larger than three hundred men, he would retake the place.

My brother traveled forty miles to Paso del Norte in Mexico at night, where a mounted force from Baylor's command arrested him in this neutral territory. Charged with being a spy, he was placed in irons in the Bliss guard house and a court was being organized for his trial and execution. Hearing of his arrest, Canby arrested General Pelham, U. S. Surveyor General of New Mexico, who had resigned and was proceeding to join the rebels. Canby then sent a flag of truce to Baylor, stating that he would execute Pelham on the execution of my brother. Baylor removed the irons from my brother, gave him the liberty of the post, and he finally escaped and joined Canby, who was marching with troops from New Mexico toward El Paso. He was made lieutenant in the New Mexican Volunteers, and appointed on Colonel Roberts' staff.

Meanwhile, Baylor, with less than three hundred poorly equipped Texans, had moved on Lynde's seven hundred and fifty regulars, but such was their demoralization that these Texans captured bodily every man and all the supplies during Lynde's attempt to escape into New Mexico.

General Sibley organized a force of about thirty-five hundred Texans, to take the Territory of New Mexico, and reinforced Baylor, to march on Fort Craig. Canby organized two New Mexican regiments, one under Kit Carson, and moved to support Colonel Roberts, arriving just before the Confederates. Canby had one thousand regulars and about twenty-five hundred New Mexican volunteers, so the commands were nearly equal. Crossing the almost impassible mountains, Sibley appeared at Val Verde, six miles above Fort Craig, to engage in what was, perhaps, the bloodiest battle for the numbers engaged, in the whole war. Neither side was victorious, but Canby was compelled to retire to Fort Craig, and Sibley passed on and overran the whole Territory of New Mexico, even taking Santa Fe, but he was cut off from any Confederate supplies.

Colorado raised two regiments of volunteers, which moved on Sibley and drove him south, where Canby met him. Of the four thousand Confederate troops that had entered New Mexico, only about fifteen hundred reached Texas. El Paso was reoccupied, and my brother made collector of customs. Another brother, Allen, eighteen years old, anxious to participate in the allurements of the Western country, asked me to send him to my brother, W. W., who had promised to make him deputy collector, which I did by a supply train from Kansas City for Santa Fe.

Meanwhile, my brother Emmett, hearing of W. W.'s arrest and proposed trial as a spy, endeavored to escape to California by taking passage on the Overland Mail, where he met his death.

On February 8, 1869, while in Austin as a member of the constitutional convention for reconstruction from El Paso, W. W. married Mary, daughter of Governor A. J. Hamilton. In his El Paso home she shared as loyally as any wife ever did in all his misfortunes and successes, his joys and sorrows.

In 1897 W. W. was appointed United States Consul at Chihuahua, Mexico, where we often visited. He worked there ten years, relieving unfortunate Americans who, by reason of ignorance of conditions in Mexico, got themselves into difficulties. The City of Chihuahua was unfortunately the rendezvous and refuge for felonious, law-breaking Americans, who could no longer live in their native land, and sought Mexico, believing they could defy the laws of that country. Popular report stamped Mexicans as lawless, with a government not stable enough to punish them. Such conditions made my brother's position a difficult one, as the following will show:

Three New Yorkers, including a physician and an insurance agent, entered into a conspiracy to establish themselves in Chihuahua to insure unsuspecting Americans for $20,000 each, murder them and collect the money. The plan, which was practically carried out, was this: The insurance agent approached eligible Americans residing in Chihuahua, solicited insurance, offering very low terms, and stating that the proposed victim, living in a lawless country where he was likely to be killed and where whatever he had would be absorbed by Mexican officials, should insure for the benefit of those dependent upon him. Having written the insurance, he would tell his victim, "Now my company is interested in your life. They direct me to admonish you not to patronize Mexican physicians, as they are unskilled. They authorized me to recommend to you Dr.----." The doctor then recommended the victim to appoint an American administrator to see that his estate would be kept out of the hands of Mexican officials. He would recommend the third member of the gang.

In three cases the victim took the whole of the advice, appointed the gang member his administrator, and called upon the criminal doctor when ill. The doctor promptly killed him with poison, the administrator took possession of his body, collected the money from the company, and divided it among the three conspirators.

They had collected $20,000 each, for two victims, when the insurance company sent a detective to investigate. He fixed the murder on the doctor and discovered the other criminals. They were arrested by the Mexican authorities, fairly tried--W. W. being present at the trial--and sentenced to be shot.

A great clamor was raised in the American newspapers about the cruel and barbarous conviction of innocent men by Mexican law. A member of Congress, the lawyer employed by the men, and the relatives of each of the condemned came to my brother with tears and pleadings, demanding that he intercede with the State Department for their relief. W. W. also received instructions from the State Department to make a thorough examination and report. He was unable to find any palliating circumstances, and reported through Ambassador Clayton his belief that the Mexican judgment was just. The Secretary of State sustained my brother, but the member of Congress, the lawyer, friends and relatives of the condemned, besieged the great President Diaz with pathetic appeals and tears, and, in the goodness of his heart, Diaz commuted the sentence to imprisonment for life.

When General Villa captured Chihuahua, the convicts were released from the penitentiary. The murderers were among the number, and Villa appointed the doctor as a commissioned medical officer on his staff.

W. W. filled his position honorably and well for ten years, when ill health compelled him to retire. In accepting his resignation, the State Department gave him a very complimentary letter. He returned to Austin, where his wife still lives, and, after a lingering illness, died there on February 10, 1913.

W. W. lived in El Paso two score of years, and in 1901 published a book entitled "Forty Years in El Paso."

AFTERTHOUGHT:--Last page in W. W.'s book.

"ENEMIES AND PHILOSOPHY

"In the summer of 1900 my brother, General Mills, and a sister
paid Mrs. Mills and myself a visit at the United States
Consulate at Chihuahua. One evening he, being in a reflective
mood, said, 'Will, you and I have had many difficulties, and
quarrels and fights with our personal enemies, and it is very
gratifying to know, as I am growing old, that these are all over
with me. My enemies are all reconciled to me, and I wish you
could say as much.'

"I replied: 'I do not know that my enemies are all reconciled
to me, but they are all _dead_, and that is better, or at least
_safer_.' And it is the literal truth. All my bitterest foes
have been taken hence, most of them by violence, and I neither
rejoice at nor regret their taking off. I do not claim that I
was always right and they always wrong, for I tried to return
blow for blow, but it is certain that they often resorted to
means which I would, under no circumstances, employ. Alas, most
of my friends are gone also. Why I have been spared through it
all is a mystery which I do not attempt to explain.
_ADIOS._"

SECOND PERIOD

FOUR YEARS OF CIVIL WAR

Before any Federal troops arrived in Washington, Cassius M. Clay, of Kentucky, organized the "Clay Guards," composed of 150 Southern Union men who, like myself, were in Washington awaiting appointments. I joined this organization, became a sergeant, and was discharged as such. The government furnished us an armory, arms and ammunition, in Willard's Hall, where the New Willard Hotel now stands. Detachments slept at the Navy Yard, where attacks were expected from Alexandria, Virginia, and in the White House, as it was feared the President might be assassinated.

My commission was dated May 14, 1861, but confusion in the War Department prevented early delivery of all appointments. I had little money and, although I lived in a cheap room in a mechanics' boarding house in the poorer part of the city, and economized in every way, my clothing was shabby and I was indebted to the landlord. Every morning I went to the War Department, hoping for my appointment, but without success.

One morning, in the Assistant Adjutant General's office, I saw my appointment lying with hundreds of others on a big table. I pointed it out to Captain Garesche, and asked him for it. He said the Secretary had ordered all appointments to be sent to the appointee's post office address, and added that he had been severely reprimanded because he had delivered to one man an appointment intended for another of the same name. As I knew I would never receive the appointment if it was mailed to El Paso, I was discouraged. But when I told Public Printer Sol Meredith, who was from Indiana and knew my father, the situation, he explained the circumstances to Mr. Cameron, and on June 22 I received my appointment as first lieutenant of the 18th Infantry, one of the nine new regiments of twenty-four companies each then being formed. I was directed to report to its Colonel, Henry B. Carrington, at headquarters, Columbus, Ohio.

Still without money, I went to the paymaster, hoping to receive the money necessary to pay traveling expenses and get a uniform. The paymaster refused to pay me until the end of the month and, finally, in my dilemma, I went to a friend and borrowed enough to carry me to Columbus and buy a uniform.

Before leaving, Judge John S. Watts, delegate from New Mexico, and I recommended my brother W. W. to the Secretary of the Treasury for collector of customs at El Paso, and to the Adjutant General my brother Emmett for the appointment to West Point from New Mexico.

I reported to Colonel Carrington in Columbus on June 25th. Although adjutant general of Ohio under Governor Chase, he knew less about army matters than I. But he assumed a great deal, and told me he was going to have the best regiment in the army, and that no man who drank could remain in it.

A mile and a half from the city was a camp of instruction, "Camp Thomas." Most officers reporting were instructed under Captain Kellogg, a former artillery officer; but I was detailed on recruiting service at Toledo, Ohio. On July 19th I opened an office there, where I became one of the most successful recruiting officers in the regiment. On August 12th, telegraphic instructions came from Washington to muster in Colonel Gibson's 49th regiment of Ohio Volunteers at Tiffin, Ohio. For perhaps a month, I kept both offices open, traveling back and forth.

I used the fair grounds at Tiffin for the organizing of the regiment. Generally the man who brought the men to camp was made captain, although orders required that men sufficient to form a company be locked in a room to elect their own officers. When elected, I swore in the officers.

When four companies were sworn in they elected a major; eight companies elected a lieutenant colonel; and ten were authorized to elect a colonel, adjutant and quartermaster.