Franc B. Wilkie: An Embedded Journalist

Today is the anniversary of the battle of Wilson’s Creek, and an appropriate time to recognize Franc B. Wilkie. A native of New York, Wilkie entered the newspaper business when he was in his twenties and was associated with that profession for most of his life. In the 1850s, he ventured to Iowa, and became a correspondent for the Dubuque Herald when the war started. He traveled with the 1^st Iowa Infantry during the campaign that culminated in the battle of Wilson’s Creek, and later in the year, the Dubuque Herald published in book form the thirty-two letters that he sent to the newspaper.

In 2001, the Camp Pope Bookshop published a new edition of this rare book along with Wilkie’s letters about the fall 1861 campaign. These latter include his accounts of the siege

of Lexington (Missouri), a skirmish at Blackwater River, and Second Boonville. Michael E. Banasik ably edited the book, and it is part of the publisher’s important Unwritten Chapters of the Civil War West of the Mississippi series. Later in the war, according to the book’s introduction, Wilkie became a correspondent for the New York Times and then worked for a Chicago newspaper.

Here is a part of Wilkie’s thirty-second letter that was written in Springfield on the day that the battle of Wilson’s Creek was fought:

“…Everybody who was in Springfield was up long before daylight and awaiting with feverish anxiety the event of the day…. About ten minutes past five the heavy boom of the artillery rolled through the town like the muttering of a thunder storm upon the horizon, and sent a thrill through every heart like a shock of electricity. I instantly mounted my horse and set out for the scene of the action, which was fully twelve miles distant, and as I neared it the explosions of the artillery became one continuous roar that only now and then was broken enough to distinguish the sound of individual guns….

As I approached the battlefield, squads of men could be seen galloping madly hither and thither, while out on the prairie were scores of saddled horses grazing peacefully, whose riders had left them in many cases forever. I met also two men getting away from the fatal timber, over which hung a thick smoke, as if hell itself were flaming within. Some of them limped painfully along, others were supported upon the arms of comrades, some were hatless, and with locks clotted and countenances ghastly with blood, while a few had helped themselves to horses, and all were making their way as fast as they could towards town. Going still further, one came to a spring, situated a few hundred yards from the line of fight, in a ravine, and here the wounded were conveyed, and here the doctors were busy in their humane but unwelcome duty.”

Source of quotation: Banasik, Michael E. Missouri in 1861: The Civil War Letters of Franc B. Wilkie, Newspaper Correspondent. Iowa City: Camp Pope Bookshop, 2001, pages 143-144.

Off to War!

Lately, I have been perusing Michael E. Banasik, ed., Missouri in 1861: The Civil War Letters of Franc B. Wilkie, Newspaper Correspondent (Iowa City: Camp Pope Bookshop, 2001) that is part of the Camp Pope Bookshop’s Unwritten Chapters of the Civil War West of the River series. Franc B. Wilkie, an accomplished journalist, traveled south to Missouri with the Washington Guards and the Governor’s Greys, two militia companies from Dubuque, Iowa. While cruising down the Mississippi River in April 1861, Wilkie reported on the humorous behavior of these Iowans:

“The Greys took their stations on one side of the cabin, the Guards the other….Profound silence soon covered the whole boat, till suddenly some ‘rough’ on the floor gave a tremendous ‘Baa!’ Another at the other end responded, then the chorus was taken up in all parts, and in three seconds the whole crowd was Baa-ing with the force of a thousand calf-power. So it went till day-light. There were cat voices, sheep voices, and coon voices. There were goslings and crowings. There were fellows there who could beat any jackass on a bray, and give him fifty. In short there were more noises than ever were made or ever will be again, unless all jackasses, mules, gobblers, roosters, cats, coons, and cattle in creation are assembled for a grand concert. Nobody slept; some laughed a little, others swore a great deal, and thus wore away the night” (p. 9).

Is It Hot Enough For You?

Northeastern Oklahoma is experiencing a heat wave, and I decided to look up some quotes from Civil War soldiers in the trans-Mississippi to see what they had to say about summer weather. My unscientific and admittedly rather brief survey of primary accounts led to a surprising conclusion; Union soldiers seemed more apt to comment in detail about the weather than their Confederate opponents. All of the following quotations are from the Union perspective, but hopefully I’ll locate some lively quotations about summertime weather from the Confederate point of view. Another conclusion… summer weather was just as dreadful in the 1860s as it is now, however, we have a great advantage…air conditioning.


Franc B. Wilkie, Springfield, Missouri:

From a dispatch dated August 2, 1861:
“The weather was hot—slightly. I rather enjoy respectable hot weather, such for instance as will cook an egg hard in two minutes, or roast a joint equal to a Dutch oven; but the weather of that day was a little too much for even my ardent constitution. There were men with us who had toasted their chins beneath the vertical rays of a tropical sun; there were others who went through the fiery rays of Mexico’s sun during the war, but all confessed that they never had known anything comparable to that. I won’t undertake to say how many degrees hot it was, as we had no thermometer, but will venture the guess that it was anywhere between 1,100 and 2,000 ‘in the shade.’ Men dropped in the ranks as if smitten by lightning; under every tree and beneath every bush they staggered and fell in groups of twos and dozens.”

Banasik, Michael E., ed., Missouri In 1861: The Civil War Letters of Franc B. Wilkie, Newspaper Correspondent, Unwritten Chapters of the Civil War West of the River, Volume IV, (Iowa City: Camp Pope Bookshop, 2001), 131-132.

William P. Black, Springfield, Missouri:

“Springfield, Mo. July 10^th 1862….What exceedingly hot weather we have been having in these weeks past. No rain this month till to-night, when the windows of heaven seemed open to us to pour out a bounteous blessing. Already we feel the cooled & refreshed vigor of the air, & we all rejoice. The ground had become parched, vegetation of all kinds was withering up, gardens were blighting, & roads were a bed of dust. But now is a day of better things. As is nearly always the case at the breaking up of such a hot spell of weather, however, we had quite a gust of wind & a thunder-shower—The clapps were at times very sharp & close but now they have retired to the distance & seem as if some one had retired to heaven’s growlery & were doing his best to maintain the expectation of the place. And still the rain comes down steadily & joyously, giving life & health.”

Banasik, Michael E., ed., Duty, Honor and Country: The Civil War Experiences of Captain William P. Black, Thirty-Seventh Illinois Infantry, Unwritten Chapters of the Civil War West of the River, Volume VI, (Iowa City: Camp Pope Bookshop, 2006), 111-112.


August Scherneckau, Fort Davidson, Missouri:

“Tuesday, June 16 [1863]—Very warm. We had drill as usual in the morning and afternoon, today under our new commander, who seems to be more concerned about us than any one of our own officers. Even though the exercise is not very strenuous, it is sufficient to bring out the sweat. Our campground is without shade, and the sun burns on our tents without mercy; therefore, it is unbearably hot inside. To remedy this misfortune, we have built various huts of leafy branches in which we pass the hot daytime hours. They are somewhat more airy and shady.”

Potter, James E. and Edith Robbins, eds., Marching With The First Nebraska: A Civil War Diary, (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2007), 173.

Charles O. Musser, Helena, Arkansas:

“Helena, Arkansas July the 9^th, 63….The weather is almost too hot for a white man to live here. i never felt Such hot Sun before. we lay in our tents almost panting for breath. it [is] awful Sultry. I will never complain of the hot sun in Iowa again if i get there.”

Popchock, Barry, ed., Soldier Boy: The Civil War Letters Of Charles O. Musser, 29^th Iowa, (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1995), 67-68.

“An officer with the Native Battalion, stationed at Fort Yuma [California] in August 1865, wrote home: ‘For heaven’s sake, never come out this way if you can help it. You will surely melt. The thermometer is 112 in the shade every day, with no wind. Scorpions thick as molasses and flies still more. When we want to drink cool water we have to boil it and drink it immediately or else it gets hotter.’”

Masich, Andrew E., The Civil War in Arizona: The Story Of The California Volunteers, 1861-1865, (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2006), 105-106.