The Civil War Reminiscences of General Basil W. Duke, C.S.A.

Basil Duke in 1897

Born in Kentucky in 1838, Basil Wilson Duke attended Georgetown College and Centre College before obtaining a law degree from Transylvania College in 1858.  After graduating from law school, he moved to St. Louis where his cousin, also named Basil Duke and also a lawyer, had a thriving practice.  In St. Louis, Duke became one of the leaders of pro-Southern St. Louisans and a member of the Minute Men, “their paramilitary organization.” Originally a conditional Unionist, after the arrival of Federal troops in St. Louis Duke became an ardent Secessionist.

Upon the outbreak of the war, Duke was sent by Missouri Governor Claiborne Jackson to Montgomery, Alabama to obtain material support from the Confederacy.  Successful in his mission, Duke returned to St. Louis on May 9 aboard a steamboat loaded with siege guns and howitzers which he promptly delivered to the Missouri Militia at Camp Jackson.  It’s arguable that it was the delivery of these weapons that precipitated the Union attack on the camp.  

Returning to Kentucky, Duke joined the Second Kentucky Calvary under the command of his brother-in-law, John Hunt Morgan.  Twice wounded in battle, Duke was captured during a raid on the Indiana-Ohio border in 1864 but was exchanged.  After the death of Morgan, he was promoted to Brigadier General and was given command of “Morgan’s Raiders.”  

After the war, Duke settled in Louisville where he became head of the law department of the Louisville & Nashville Railroad Company.  For twenty years, he served as a member of the Kentucky House of Representatives.  Duke also was involved in several Confederate veterans associations and wrote two histories of the Civil War.    

Basil Duke died on September 16, 1916 “due to shock resulting from the removal of one of his legs.”


-Base Ball Pioneers, 1850-1870

I find Basil Duke to be a fascinating character and the brief biography that I wrote for Base Ball Pioneers simply doesn't do his life justice.  However, Duke doesn't need me to be Boswell to his Dr. Johnson, as, after the war, he turned into a fine writer and historian, writing several books and editing a magazine devoted to the history of the Confederate Army.  


The work I'll be quoting here, The Civil War Reminiscences of General Basil W. Duke, C.S.A., is a fantastic book and I find it significant because it describes what life was like in St. Louis at the beginning of the war.  This also happens to be the period when baseball was first beginning to take hold in St. Louis.  The New York game most likely was first played in St. Louis sometime in the summer of 1859 and the first real season, with clubs playing matches against other clubs, was in 1860.  Just as the second baseball season in St. Louis was beginning in 1861, the Civil War began.  


I tend not to think of Duke as a Civil War general or a chronicler of the Lost Cause but, rather, as a pioneer baseball player who, as a member of Cyclone Base Ball Club, played in some of the earliest baseball games in the history of St. Louis.  But, of course, he was much more than that and you'll good sense of the man as you read these excerpts from his memoirs.   

At the beginning of the Civil War I was a citizen of Missouri and resident of St. Louis, and first did service in the cause of the South, or, as our opponents termed it, gave aid to the rebellion, in that city.  If I had needed other excuse for such action than the approval of my own judgment and conscience, I might have found it in the character of my associates; for no men were ever influenced by sincerer convictions or impelled by more unselfish motives.  I may add with pardonable pride that many of my comrades of that period, the majority of whom were very young men, subsequently won enviable reputation in the Confederate army; but the daring courage and adventurous spirit which distinguished them as soldiers were never more conspicuously shown than in that exciting novitiate in St. Louis...

It is almost impossible to estimate how vastly the chances of Southern success would have been augmented had Missouri been permitted to take her place in the Southern column...But important as was the acquisition of Missouri to the Confederacy, the possession of St. Louis was scarcely less so.  There were in the city abundant supplies of all kinds necessary to the conduct of military operations.  To hold St. Louis was well-nigh equivalent to the complete control of the immense shipping of the great river, at least to the fleet of steam-boats which habitually harboured there; and this would not only have enabled supplies to be distributed at all points of the South where they were most needed, but would have effectually prevented the occupation and control of the lower Mississippi waters by the Federal gunboats. 

But if the possession of Missouri and the city of St. Louis was important to ultimate Confederate success, the seizure of the St. Louis arsenal was a matter of vital and immediate necessity.  The arsenal contained sixty thousand stand of small arms, thirty-five or forty pieces of artillery, and a vast store of ammunition and military equipments.  An almost invincible force could have been promptly armed from this source, and such a force would have been at once recruited; for with the capture of the arsenal by the secessionists all doubt and vacillation would have disappeared from their ranks.  It would have assured the most timid and hesitant, and have been the signal for an instant and overwhelming uprising, both in St. Louis and the state, in behalf of the Southern cause  Such an evidence of purpose and of capacity to deal practically with the situation would have settled in advance the questions which the convention had been called to determine.  The earnest and resolute men on both sides thoroughly realized this, and to seize or defend the arsenal became the watchwords of all who really "meant business." 

Unfortunately for the hopes of the Southern men in St. Louis, however salutary such policy may have proven for the future of the country, their leaders temporized  They admitted the extreme importance of capturing the arsenal, but insisted that it ought not to be attempted until after the convention had acted.  This counsel seemed fatuous to the younger men, who thought that something should be done to influence the election of the delegates and the decision of the convention, and believed that, as matters were being handled, the game was going against them.  They resolved, therefore, to make an organization of their own, with a view to prompt and decisive measures, and also as an offset to Blair's "Wide Awakes," who soon became exceedingly insolent and aggressive.  This movement was inaugurated, as I remember, by Colton Greene, James R. Shaler, Rock Champion, Overton W. Barrett, Samuel Farrington, James Quinlan, Arthur McCoy, and myself.  Greene was subsequently a brigadier-general in the Confederate service.  Shaler was one of the bravest and most efficient colonels whom Missouri gave to the South.  Barrett served gallantly and with distinction, and Champion, Farrington, and McCoy, after winning the highest reputation for courage and fidelity, died under the Southern flag. 

This organization was designated the "Minute Men," and was of a semi-political and military character.  We made no secret of the organization or of our purpose, but openly proclaimed both.  It grew to be about four hundred strong, and was divided into five companies, commanded by Greene, Shaler, Barrett, Hubbard, and myself, which subsequently composed a battalion of the state guard, of which Shaler was elected major.  The chief and primary object of this organization was the capture of the arsenal.  We were handicapped, however, not only by the scruples and remonstrances of the older and more conservative men, but by the difficulty of procuring arms.  The muster-roll of the Minute Men could have been increased to a much larger number, but we wished to enlist only the kind of material which could be relied on for any service and in any emergency, and no more than we could arm in some fashion.  We had no funds with which to purchase arms, and those fitted for the use of soldiers were not to be easily gotten even with money.  During February we secured some sixty or seventy old muskets, but armed the greater number with revolvers and shot-guns, which were indeed better weapons for street fighting.

No opportunity for such demonstration as we wished to make was afforded until the convention, having first assembled at Jefferson City, adjourned to meet in St. Louis on the 4th of March.  We resolved to utilize that occasion in such wise as to bring matters, if possible, to a crisis and incite the popular outbreak during which we might find means to execute our project.  We wished also to act before the Republican national administration-just about to be inaugurated-might interfere.

The measures taken seem almost ludicrous in the narration, but they were the only kind we could employ, and were really better calculated, in the then excited condition of the public mind, than any others to precipitate the collision we desired without becoming ourselves actually the aggressors.  By virtue of my position as chairman of the "Military Committee of the Minute Men," I had charge of the headquarters, which were established in the old Berthold mansion, one of the early Creole houses of St. Louis; I was also empowered-so far as the Minute Men could give me authority-to inaugurate and direct such enterprises as that which I am about to describe.  I called the committee together on the night of the 3d of March, and, after a brief consultation, we decided to display on the succeeding day such unmistakable symbols of secession and evidence of an actively rebellious disposition as would be a plain defiance to the Union sentiment and challenge the Wide Awakes.  We accordingly improvised two secession flags.  The South had not then adopted a banner, so we were obliged to exercise our imaginations to a rather painful extent in order to devise a fit emblem.  We knew, however, that nothing which floated over the Minute Men's headquarters could be possibly misconstrued, and we blazoned on both flags every conceivable thing that was suggestive of a Southern meaning.  Champion and Quinlan undertook to place one of these flags on the very summit of the court-house dome, and did so at great risk to neck and limb.

I summoned fifty or sixty of our most determined and reckless followers, put the muskets in their hands-they were also provided with revolvers-and told them they would be required to remain on duty no only that night, but as long as might be necessary.  They were more than willing to do so.  I, of course, stayed with them in command.  Among other implements of defence, we had a small swivel, which, loaded with a number of musket balls and a double handful of ten-penny nails, was planted to command the front door, and was to fired only in the event that the door was forced.  Early the next morning, when our ensigns were observed, an extraordinary commotion began in the immediate neighbourhood and soon extended over the entire city.  The flag on the court-house was at once removed.  We had expected this and could not have prevented it. 

Then a large and angry crowd collected in front of the headquarters and demanded the removal of the flag there.  When no response was made, some of the boldest climbed up on the back porch with threats of tearing it down.  They were thrown back on the pavement beneath, but none were seriously injured, although much discouraged.  I cautioned my men not to fire unless they themselves were fired on. 

The Wide Awakes sprang to arms, but showed no haste to attack.  We received notice that they had assembled and formed and were coming.  Their drums were loudly in evidence.  While unwilling to fire on the mob without the amplest provocation, we were determined to fire on the Wide Awakes so soon as they were in sight; for after the repeated threats they had uttered, their appearance at such a time would have been an unmistakable demonstration of hostility.  Frost's brigade of state militia, as fine a body of the kind as I ever saw and exceedingly well armed, drilled, and disciplined, was ordered under arms to assist the police in keeping the peace.  This force was about seven hundred strong, and would have cheerfully sided with us had the Wide Awakes and the mob attacked.  With such other aid as would have been rendered under the excitement of conflict, we could certainly have taken the arsenal in the melee and before the affair ended.

General Frost came to the headquarters and said that he thought we had been imprudent, but that he would advise no concession to the demands of the mob.  He also said that the militia would endeavour to keep the peace and prevent aggression by either side.  Soon afterward I was visited by a deputation composed of the Hon. O.D. Filley, the mayor, Col. Samuel Churchill, and Messrs. Thomas S. Snead, James Lucas, and Ferdinand Kennett.  I knew these gentlemen well and held them in the highest respect, as did all the community.  Mr. Snead, afterward chief of staff to General Price, and Colonel Churchill did not seem to be especially desirous that the flag should be removed, although they advised it.  Mr. Kennett, perhaps to the surprise of his colleagues, offered what might have been termed a minority report, or dissenting opinion.  "Duke," he said, "I rather think you acted like a fool when you hung out that flag, but you'll act like a coward if you take it down."  The mayor and Mr. Lucas very earnestly requested me to have it taken down.  They called my attention, although I had already observed it, to the violent excitement and resentment which its display had occasioned, urged that the feelings of the Union men ought to be respected, and that nothing should be done, during a period of such political passion, to offend or anger any class of citizens.  I temperately and respectfully represented that the Union men ought not to be so sensitive.  I pointed out that a convention was, at that very hour, sitting in St. Louis to discuss and decide whether Missouri should remain in the Union or secede.  I suggested that the question, therefore, was one on which a citizen had a right to take either side; and that each side had an equal right to exhibit its insignia, and in any way or by any device define its contention.  "There is not a man among us, Mr. Mayor," I said, "who would think of protesting against the display of the stars and stripes; why, therefore, should the Union men object to our floating a Southern banner?" 

He said he couldn't explain it, but that the Union men certainly were objecting, and that he would be greatly pleased if I would remove the objection and permit the crowd, which was constantly growing larger and more noisy, to disperse.  Champion then suggested that the major should call on his fire department and turn out the engines to throw water on the crowd, which he, Champion, thought would certainly cause it to disperse; but for some reason the mayor would not consent to do that.  I finally said that I would very gladly do anything-except the specific thing asked-to help him allay the tumult, and suggested that if he or Mr. Lucas would make a speech to the crowd much might be accomplished.  Mr. Lucas accordingly climbed into a small donkey cart belonging to an Italian fruit seller, which had somehow become wedged into the press, and began an impressive address, imploring the people to be calm and to go home.  But the donkey, suddenly taking fright either at the eloquence of the orator or at the shouts of the crowd, kicked and plunged violently and tried to run away, so that Mr. Lucas was prevented from fully presenting his case. 

Several abortive rushes were afterward made by the mob, and one or two more serious demonstrations, easily repulsed, however, and with little damage to either faction; and then our friends began to rapidly assemble.  After some rough and tumble fighting in the streets it became apparent that our side was the stronger. 

But the opportunity we had hoped and striven for did not occur; and we could not afford to attack the arsenal without having been ourselves assailed.  Our instructions were explicit to commit no aggressive act.  On more than one other occasion it became manifest that in the event of actual collision the Southern sentiment would be thoroughly aroused and would predominate; but as time wore on our opponents made more complete preparation, while we made little, if any.

This fatal policy of irresolution and delay continued until Mr. Lincoln issued his proclamation calling for troops to suppress the rebellion; and although our people were then, at last awakened, it was too late to recover from the effects of previous procrastination.  The legislature...passed high-sounding resolutions, but did little else, and even refused to permit the governor to call out the militia.  Bills were introduced providing for the better organization and armament of the state guard, but were not pressed to passage.  On March 23d, however, a bill was passed to create a Board of Police Commissioners for St. Louis, by which the control of the police force was taken from the mayor, who was a Republican.  It authorized the governor to appoint four commissioners, who, with the mayor-ex officio a member of the board-should have absolute control of the police of the city, of the sheriff's officers and of all conservators of the peace, both in the city and the county.  The passage of this bill two months earlier might have shaped the political situation very differently; but at so late a date it had little effect. 

When it became a law the governor appointed as commissioners: Charles McLaren, John A. Brownlee, James H. Carlisle, and myself.  All were Southern in sentiment.  My appointment was severely censured, ostensibly because of my youth, but really because of my connection with the Minute Men, which made it peculiarly offensive to Unionists of all shades of opinions... 

It finally became apparent that the Southern party must either adopt and promptly execute decisive and practically effective measures, or publicly abandon all purpose or pretence of maintaining the authority of the state in matters wherein Blair and Lyon had determined to interfere.  Before the capture of Fort Sumter by the Confederates and Mr. Lincoln's call for troops to suppress the rebellion, Governor Jackson made up his mind that the seizure of the arsenal should be attempted at the earliest possible date.  During all this delay, however, the garrison of the arsenal had been considerably strengthened, and the number of the Wide Awakes very greatly increased.  Lyon's efforts had also resulted in their better organization and in furnishing them with excellent rifles issued from the arsenal.  The Union leaders estimated that they could, at this date put six or seven thousand well-armed and equipped troops in the field, as against less than one thousand two hundred on the other side. 

Governor Jackson had never been a soldier, and was totally devoid of military experience.  He relied for advice in such matters on General Frost, who was a graduate of West Point, and had served for several years in the regular army.  General Frost was well versed in his profession, had much technical knowledge, and was undoubtedly a man of personal courage.  He advised a course, however, which, under the circumstances, rendered success almost impossible.  Although he must have known that he could not possible muster an armed and organized force one fifth as strong as that which opposed him, he advised the governor to order a formal encampment of the state guard in the environs of St. Louis, send South for heavy guns, and proceed to attempt the capture of the arsenal by slow and regular approaches; by siege operations, indeed.  It seems almost incredible that any one could have supposed it to be possible to capture the arsenal, defended as it was, and considering the disparity of forces, except by a sudden coup de main, and unexpected reckless rush.  Yet the plan I have described was the one resolved on.  The governor, therefore, directed that the state guard should assemble on May 3d at a designated spot near the city limits and remain in encampment for a week.  He dispatched Capt. Cotton Greene and myself to Montgomery, Ala., with letters to President Davis requesting him to furnish us with the sort of cannon described in another paper prepared by General Frost...

We started on April 6th and proceeded via Cairo to Memphis, thence via Chattanooga to Montgomery.  I remember that as we stood on the platform at Corinth, where our train had stopped for a few minutes, and gazed on the dense forest and thick undergrowth which fringed the railroad-it has since been almost entirely cleared away-I remarked, "If we ever get the Yankees down here, we'll pepper them."  "If the Yankees ever get this far down," responded Greene, "we may as well quit.".  Neither of us had the faintest premonition of the future.  In less than one year from that date I passed in the immediate vicinity of Corinth, en route to the field of Shiloh, and the war lasted three years longer. 

When we reached Montgomery we sent our credentials to President Davis and he received us at a meeting of his cabinet.  We were questioned very closely about the conditions in St. Louis and Missouri, but only Mr. Benjamin, who, if I remember correctly, was then secretary of war, seemed to consider the matter serious or at all difficult.  The others were inclined to entertain a roseate view of the situation, not only in our region, but everywhere else.  The President very cheerfully granted Governor Jackson's request, and gave us an order on the commandant of the arsenal at Baton Rouge for the guns specified in the list prepared by General Frost.  We proceeded immediately to New Orleans and then to Baton Rouge.  I shall never forget the scenes I witnessed in Louisiana while on that mission.  Every one anticipated war but believed it would be brief, and there seemed to be a universal feeling of confidence and elation.  A great number of military companies had been recruited, but regimental and brigade organizations not yet been completed, and each company wore its own peculiar garb.  The streets of New Orleans were thronged during the day and the theatres crowded at night with a multitude of young fellows clad in an infinite variety of brilliant uniforms; and as we ascended the river to Baton Rouge we could see everywhere along the coast squads of volunteers drilling among the orange trees.  The first sight that met our eyes, when we landed at Baton Rouge, was a company of "chasseurs" habited in vivid green, no member of which spoke English or appeared to care a continental what was going to happen. 

Having procured, on our order to the commandant of the arsenal, two twelve-pound howitzers, two thirty-two pound siege guns, some five hundred muskets, and a quantity of ammunition, we returned to New Orleans to make arrangements for their transportation to St. Louis, and for that purpose chartered the steam-boat Swan.  The guns and ammunition, packed in such wise as to conceal, as much as possible their real character, were taken on at Baton Rouge.  Greene took charge of the boat, while I went in advance by rail to Cairo, which in the meantime had been occupied by Federal troops, to reconnoitre and ascertain what would be the danger of detection or delay.  I found a large force of soldiers at Cairo; but they were not so vigilant or suspicious of visitors within their lines as the troops on both sides became at a later period.

The first man I saw as I stepped into the hotel was a particular friend from St. Louis-Mr. James Casey-one of the truest, warmest-hearted men I ever knew.  He was a brother-in-law, by the way, of Gen. Ulysses Grant.  Grant, when President, appointed him Surveyor of the Port at new Orleans, but at this date "Jim" was a strong secessionist.  His look of amazement and dismay, when he caught sight of me, was almost too much for my gravity.  Although I knew him to be both shrewd and cautious, I was apprehensive that he might say something imprudent; so I approached him and said: "You don't remember me, Mr. Casey, but I am John White.  I live in your native town in Union County, Kentucky."  "I'm very glad to see you, Mr. White," he responded.  "Come up stairs to my room."  We went to is room; he locked the door and asked me why in the name of heaven I had come to Cairo.  He said that the rumour was current in St. Louis that Greene and I had gone South on some embassy, and that Blair would be on the lookout for us.  "Well," I said, "he won't be looking for me here."  Casey replied that among the officers in Cairo were a number of St. Louisians, some of whom would probably recognize me.  I said I would get away as soon as possible, but must first ascertain what sort of inspection was made of north-bound boats, and also write or telegraph Frost.  "You will be arrested," he said, "if you either attempt to write or wire."  "Then you must send a letter for me," I said.  He assured me that he would do so, by a friend who was a river pilot just about to leave for St. Louis.  I subsequently learned that the letter was duly delivered.  I then went to the wharf-boat and witnessed an inspection of one or two cargoes.  The careless and imperfect manner in which it was conducted convinced me that there would be little risk of detection, and that the Swan and her freight could pass in safety. 

I therefore promptly departed for New Madrid, the point at which it had been agreed that I should meet the Swan as she came up the river.  Here I came near being involved in quite serious trouble.  I had to remain at this little place two or three days before the boat arrived, and was, of course, the object of much curiosity, as a stranger always is in a very small town.  I did not realize, as I should have done, the importance of returning consistent answers to the questions propounded me, but whenever any one expressed a desire to know my reason for coming, I gave an explanation, the first that came to me, ingenious enough, perhaps, but generally totally at variance with other responses.  Indeed, discretion is something which the majority of mankind only acquire by experience.  I subsequently had occasion to regret very much my lack of caution and fertility of invention. 

On the second night that I was at New Madrid, fearing that the Swan might arrive during the night and that I might fail to learn it, I concluded to change my quarters from the small hotel at which I had stopped, to the wharf-boat.  I should say in explanation, that in ante-bellum days, old, dismantled steam-boats were frequently used as wharf-boats and the former state-rooms were rudely fitted up for the accommodation of guests, although meals were not furnished.  Quite a large old boat was used for this purpose at New Madrid at the date that I made this visit.  I engaged one of the state-rooms and, instructing the wharf master to awaken me if the Swan came, slipped off my coat and shoes and laid down.  I could not, however, go to sleep, and was pleased when a man came to my room about ten o'clock.  He said that some of my acquaintances were in the bar-room and wished to see me.  I, of course, suspected no danger, and immediately arose, put on my shoes, and leaving my revolver where I had placed it, under the pillow, proceeded to join my friends, as I supposed them to be.  When I passed the door which opened from the saloon into the barroom I saw a man standing by it with a cocked pistol in his hand.  Glancing toward the other door I saw a man, similarly armed, there also.

I at once realized that I was in the hands of a vigilance committee and, in the phrase of that day, "suspected of being a suspicious character."  It was by no means a pleasant situation; my hair bristled and I was fairly chilled. It was fortunate, perhaps, that I had left my revolver in the state-room, for in the excitement and consternation I felt, I might have attempted to use it, in which event I would certainly have been killed.  The committee, six or seven in number, were seated just in front of the bar.  I was not invited to take a seat and remained standing.

There was perfect silence for perhaps a minute, by which time I had recovered my composure.

"I understand, gentlemen," I said, "that you sent for me to pass a social evening with you, but you evidently had some other reason.  I shall be glad to know what you wish and your purpose." 

The chairman was an elderly man, rather deaf.  I heartily wished before he stopped talking that he had been born dumb.

 "Mr. Duke," he said, "you came here from Cairo, which is occupied by Yankee soldiers.  You have told three or four different stories to account for your presence here, and they can't all be true.  We think that you are a Yankee spy, and if we become satisfied that you are one we are going to hang you." 

I frankly admitted that none of the explanations of my visit to New Madrid, previously given, were correct; and then gave them the real reason, telling them of the instructions I had received from Governor Jackson and how far they had already been carried into effect. 

I further told them that I was hourly expecting the arrival of the Swan. 

"Now, gentlemen," I said, "you can readily understand why in previous conversations I was unwilling to make this statement.  If my real business had transpired the object of my mission might have been defeated.  I would not be thus frank with you now if my life were not threatened, and also if I did not believe you to be Southern men.  But if you are really Southern men, as you claim to be, you will help instead of hanging me." 

The chairman remarked that this was very pretty talk, but that he did not credit a word of it.  "A fellow will say almost anything to save his life, and you acknowledge that you have already lied to us."  He repeated his belief that I was a spy. 

I answered, rather indignantly, that there was nothing at New Madrid to inivite the visit of a spy.  "I have already told you," I said, "that the Swan will soon be here.  You know her captain.  If he doesn't verify what I have told you, why hand me.  You can easily guard me and prevent my escape.  Even if I should get free I couldn't reach Cairo if you tried to prevent me.  At least give me twenty-four hours to prove the truth of my story.  If the Swan does not reach here by that time, act as you please." 

The chairman was still obdurate.  He insisted that they could not afford to take any risk and that I ought to be put out of the way.  So far no other member of the committee had uttered a word, but all had remained, in appearance, as stolid as statues.  Now, however, one of them spoke up very emphatically.  His name, I think, was Louis Walters.  He was about thirty years of age, a very handsome man, and six feet two or three inches in height.  During my brief stay in town I had seen more of him than any one else.  He suddenly sprang to his feet, with blazing eyes and his grip on a revolver, and delivered what I thought to be the finest speech I had ever heard.  "I believe," he said, "everything this young fellow now tells us.  I can perfectly comprehend why he at first attempted to deceive us.  He would have been a fool and false to his trust if he had dropped an intimation why he came here or said anything which might induce suspicion of his real purpose.  At any rate, it would be plain murder to hang a man who offers to furnish, in a few hours, proof of his innocence - evidence which we will be compelled to believe.  He must have the twenty-four hours he asks, and more, if necessary.  No one is more determined than myself to execute the proper work of this committee, but before you shall hang a man without giving him a chance you must first kill me." 

It was perhaps imprudent and not in the best taste, but I could not refrain from expressing my hearty approval of these remarks.  There was an immediate and general endorsement - with the exception of the chairman - of the position taken by Walters; and it was determined that I should be kept under, guard, but treated kindly, pending the arrival of the Swan.  The committee remained on the wharf-boat about an hour longer, but that time was devoted to convivial enjoyment, and even the chairman tried to be agreeable.  I returned to my quarters, but the two men who had acted as guards while my examination was being conducted, were detailed to watch each door of the state-room.  They remained outside, however, in order not to disturb my sleep.

Early next morning I was awakened by a noisy and angry colloquy going on in the saloon, just in front of my door.  Some one was fiercely threatening the guard for refusing him entrance to my room.  I thought I recognized the voice, and on looking out, found that I was not mistaken.  The angry man was Doctor Leonard, a friend of mine, who lived in New Madrid, but frequently visited St. Louis.  I had inquired for him immediately on reaching the place, and learned that he was absent on business.  He was also a member of the vigilance committee, and having gotten home that morning, was told what had been done with me.  His indignation was extreme, and he expressed a strong desire to shoot the chairman, which would have been, of course, out of order.  he started instantly for the wharf-boat to offer me aid and consolation.  I was very glad to see him, but had some difficulty in reducing him to a quite state of mind and pacific disposition.  He said that he had not "helped to organize the ------- committee for the purpose of hanging his own friends." 

I finally persuaded him not to attempt my rescue y force, but to propose to the committee that I should be released upon his becoming responsible for my return to custody if it should be necessary.  He easily effected such an arrangement, and I was permitted to go at large in his company.  Late that afternoon the Swan arrived, and I lost no time in getting aboard her.


The Swan had already lost some time, and her captain was determined to make it up, appreciating as thoroughly as Greene and I did, that events were moving too rapidly to permit of his boat going slow.  He entered heartily into the spirit of the enterprise, for he was a gallant man and his sympathies were cordially with us.  Even the crew, although, of course, not informed of the nature of the cargo on board, and the necessity of getting it to port as speedily as possible, seemed to realize that something unusual was to be done, and shared our excitement as the big boat, with her furnaces crammed full, the smoke roaring out of her funnels, and the steam hissing and snapping from her escape pipes, flew along at a racing rate.  We reached Cairo about ten o'clock at night, but did not venture to run past without landing.  The inspection, as I had anticipated, was careless, and nothing was detected. 

We reached St. Louis on the morning of May 9th and turned over the guns and munitions to Major Shaler, sent by General Frost to receive and take them to Camp Jackson.  Blair and Lyon were doubtless almost immediately informed in some way of their arrival and the disposition made of them, for the latter promptly prepared to seize them. 

On the evening of the 9th the board of police commissioners became convinced, by a report of the chief of police, that a movement against the camp was imminent.  The chief reported that the regiments into which the Wide Awake companies had been organized were mustering at their respective points of rendezvous, and that ammunition had been distributed to them; also, that a number of horses had been taken into the arsenal for the purpose, he thought, of moving artillery.  I went to the camp that night, notified General Frost of this information, and urged him to prepare for an attack, which I believed would be delivered early the next morning.  He, however, did not apprehend such danger or was unwilling to make any disposition to meet it.  I saw him again about seven o'clock in the morning, but could learn nothing whatever of his intentions.  As my rank in the state guard was only that of captain, he felt, perhaps, that there was no reason why he would inform me of his plans.  But I was also a police commissioner, and had been deputed y the board to confer with him on their behalf.  I soon became convinced that he had not decided on any line of action. 

Greene and I, therefore, determined to proceed at once to Jefferson City, whether we had to go, at any rate, to make our report to the governor...While we were discussing [the situation in St. Louis with the governor,] news was received that Lyon had delivered his blow and that Frost's entire command had been surrendered.

With Union forces in control of St. Louis after Camp Jackson and it becoming evident that Missouri was not going to secede from the Union, Duke made plans to return to Kentucky, where he would take up with John Hunt Morgan.  However, before returning to Kentucky, Duke wanted to return to St. Louis to put his affairs in order.  Upon learning that he had been indicted for treason, due to the Swan affair, he wisely decided against returning to the city.  To the best of my knowledge, Basil Duke, pioneer baseball player and a member of the first club in St. Louis to play the New York game, never again set foot in St. Louis.