Michael James Fox
- Born: 31 Oct 1820, Gosfield Township, Essex County, Ontario, Canada 2,415
- Marriage (1): Almira Truax on 3 Sep 1839 in Gosfield, Essex County, Ontario, Canada 2,414
- Marriage (2): Sarah Catherine Hayes on 6 Mar 1867 in Rockford, IL 2
- Died: 7 Mar 1903, Quincy, Adams County, Illinois at age 82
Noted events in his life were:
• Moved, Bef 1846. We moved to Illinois.
• census, 1850. In 1850, we were included in the census. I registered the family as follows: Michael Fox 29 years old, Almirea Fox 29 years old, Emily age 10, Mariah age 5, Malinda age 4 and Alma age 3.
• Family Death, 18 Aug 1861. My wife died when our children were in their young adulthood. Our daughter Emily was 21 years old and newly married. Mariah was 16 years old, Malinda 15, Alma 14 and Hattie had just turned 11 years of age. Emily and her sisters tried to tend to our home to the best of their ability. Meanwhile, I struggled to find work to provide for my family. I finally decided to travel to Kansas to look for wark as a laborer.
• Military, 16 Jan 1864. I found that I could earn better pay by joining the Union in the war with the rebel states, so I enlisted.
• Mustered In, 7 Mar 1864. 416 March 7, 1864: (age 43)
I was mustered in at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. My papers described me as having red hair, blue eyes and a fair complexion. I was assigned to the Kansas 16th cavalry, battalion H. I requested a 15-day furlough to visit my daughters and to see to their needs. I established a fund through the Superior of Guilford that was set-up for families of volunteers from Winnebego County. I left money for room and board for Hattie for a year. I instructed her to remain with her sister. However, Hattie disliked her brother-in-law and decided to live with a family by the surname of Avery.
16th Regiment, Kansas Cavalry
Displaying records 481-500 out of 1863
No. Last, First Company Rank_In Rank_Out
Fortune, John D Private Private
Fowler, John E Private Private
Fox, Michael J. H Private Private
Fox, William B. F Private Company Quartermaster Sergeant
Fraizer, James M. Private Private
Fray, William D Private Private
Freel, Charles W. M Private Private
Freeman, Thomas C Private Private
Freeman, William H Private Private
Frost, Michael K Private Private
Fry, Charles G Private Private
Fuller, John A. G Private Private
Fults, Abraham G Private Private
Fults, Manfred M Private Private
Furgerson, Robert S. F Private Private
Furgeson, Robert S. F Private Private
Furgurson, Abner M Private Private
Furguson, Abner M Private Private
Furman, John K Private Private
Fusenbaker, Mark C Private Private
• Civil War, March through September 1864. 417 I set up a residence for myself in Wyandotte, Kansas, while I served in the 16th Kansas Cavalry Company H. The 16th did not see the hard service, which other older regiments had to perform. Major-General Samuel R. Curtis was in command of the Department of Kansas. In September 1864, Indians threatened the Kansas frontier. In order to subdue them, General Curtis had sent to the Plains every soldier the border could spare, leaving General Blunt in charge of the campaign. General Curtis accompanied us to the outlying frontier areas that he wanted protected. Once he was satisfied with the arrangements, he returned to my headquarters in Leavenworth.
The Civil War caused a reduction in the number of men stationed at garrisons and outpost throughout the Western Plains. The Plains Indians, who had suffered grief by the advancement of white society, took this opportunity to go on the warpath. In the spring of 1862, many stage stations along the Platte River were raided and burned. Volunteer cavalry from Utah rushed to the South Pass area to put an end to their harassment. The raids prompted the “Overland Mail and Stage Route” to be moved further south to the Overland Trail and caused the development of Fort Halleck 120 miles further southwest. The regiments stationed at Fort Laramie were to protect the telegraph line through South Pass and the pioneers traveling to Utah.
While Indians continued to steal horses from the white men through out the plains, upon reaching my headquarter on September 17th; General Curtis learned that Confederate General Price and my men were headed towards Kansas. He understood the danger this represented to Kansas and called in General Blunt from duty on the plains. He convinced Governor Carney to order out the Kansas militia.
Confederate General Kirby Smith had directed General Price to make St. Louis their objective in order to enlist more recruits for the rebel cause. Included in my orders was a special injunction to devastate Kansas. Price entered Missouri from Pocahontas, Arkansas and was met at Pilot Knob, Missouri by General Thomas Ewing, Jr., of Kansas. Price's raid turned in the direction of Kansas when we reached Franklin, Missouri.
• Martial Law, 10 Oct 1864. The campaigns for State and national elections were in progress at the time, which caused General Curtis concern that the call for the militia was not likely to produce much additional manpower. Therefore, on the 10th of October, General Curtis placed Kansas under martial law and he appointed as a member of my staff General James H. Lane, a Kansas senator.
• Civil War, 11 Oct 1864. On the 11th, General Blunt arrived at Olathe and assumed command of the army, designating it the Army of the Border. My appointment met with approval by Colonel Moonlight. General Blunt was surprised to find the Kansas militia assembled and numbering twelve thousand men who were anxious to help save the State from invasion.
Political mistrust on the part of the Governor of Kansas prevented the militia from giving us the support we were prepared to give. Those who bitterly opposed President Lincoln's re-election were influencing Governor Carney. They accused General Lane of demanding a militia as a scheme to take the citizens of Kansas out of the State and to keep them beyond its borders until after the election.
Finally, Governor Carney could no longer deny that the Confederates were moving toward the Kansas border He insisted that the militia not cross the State-line into Missouri and that it not be subject to the orders of General Curtis. Rather, he wanted the militia to remain in Kansas and take orders only from himself or his officers.
• Dispatches, 12 Oct 1864. On the October 12th, Plumb received a dispatch from Colonel Moonlight:
PAOLA, KANSAS, OCTOBER 12, 1864.
Concentrate your entire command (cavalry) on Blue, a little north of Aubry. I will be there tonight. Strike all the tents and send them with camp equipage to Olathe, leaving one wagon with each company, with rations, such cooking utensils, as are necessary, and all the ammunition on hand and blankets. Concentrate rapidly. General Blunt desires that you remain at Olathe in command, with your staff, etc., until they are ready for the fight.
He will send for you. You shall have your share, certain.
T. MOONLIGHT, Colonel.
Leiutenant-Colonel Plumb was popular with his men and often suffered ill treatment from other officers out of jealousy. He perceived the dispatch from Colonel Moonlight as an attempt to ignore him in the coming campaign. He sent General Blunt the following:
OLATHE, OCTOBER 12, 1864.
My command is all concentrated on the Blue near the line. Fortifications here all completed; guns mounted and manned; muskets and ammunition all issued. There seems to be nothing further for me to do here. I would respectfully ask permission to join my command this evening or early in the morning. About 600 Douglas County militia are in and many more coming.
P. B. PLUMB, Lieutenant Colonel.
Major-General Blunt referred Plumb's request to General Curtis who sent a dispatch to Lieutenant-Colonel Plumb permitting him to join his regiment at the front. Plumb was in command repeatedly during the campaign.
• Civil War, 15 Oct 1864. On October 15th, Hickman's Mills was the rendezvous point for the brigades of the Army of the Border. The Second Brigade was composed of the Eleventh Kansas, two companies of the Fifth Kansas, two companies of the Sixteenth Kansas, and four mountain howitzers.
• Civil War, 16 Oct 1864. On the 16th, Colonel Moonlight, who was in command of the brigade, marched to meet General Price and set-up his position.
• Civil War, 18 Oct 1864. Lexington was occupied on the 18th with all of Price's forces concentrating in that region.
• Civil War, 19 Oct 1864. The Union officers were sitting down to dinner on the 19th when Captain Green from Company B, Eleventh Kansas, entered and related that Price's army had just pursued him and his men and that they were at hand, so General Blunt, instantly ordered officers to mount their horses. Colonel Moonlight was given command of the rear. Twelve hours of unceasing battle ensued. The last stand was made at the crossing of the Sni, east of Wellington at midnight.
• Civil War, 20 Oct 1864. At nine o'clock on the 20th, our forces took position on the west bank of the Little Blue River, eight miles northeast of Independence. General Blunt instructed us to fight a decisive battle. He informed us that General Pleasanton and his men were at Price's rear and that if things went as he hoped, the Confederate army would be destroyed at the Little Blue. General Blunt's plans were abandoned when Governor Carney and his politicians insisted that General Price was not in Missouri and that General Curtis's military movements were the results of Lane's scheming for re-election to the Senate. Governor Carney proceeded to proclaim the disbanding of the militia the very day General Blunt formed our line along the Little Blue.
• Civil War, 21 Oct 1864. We joined other regiments at Little Blue along the Arkansa border. . . . And here we sit while the enemy approaches. General Curtis decided that we would not engage the enemy in order to appease Governor Carney. The Eleventh Kansas had been left at the crossing with orders to detain the enemy as long as it could do so. When we could no longer hold the enemy at bay, we were to burn the bridge and retreat towards Independence. Colonel Moonlight's men resisted the enemy holding the line for much longer than any of us had anticipated. We burned the bridge and commenced a slow retreat, only upon the arrival of Price's cavalry in full force on both their flanks. At this point, General Blunt ordered us onto the field of battle in an effort to halt the advance of General Price. We were able to retake a part of the field that had been lost when Moonlight's men were in retreat. General Curtis and General Lane both were involved at the front, but Curtis recieved a message ordering him to return to Independence.
Price's men were slowly pushing us back all day long, although it did require almost his entire army to do so. We had but maybe thirty-five hundred men to resist the onslought. We hid behind fences, stonewalls or clumps of trees. If we came across a ditch, we would use it as a barrier. We later learned that the Eleventh Kansas was out of ammunition and held their position by shouting defiantly.
Two miles back from the Little Blue a stand was made at the Massey farm where the Eleventh was fiercely attacked, loosing a number of men. Major Ross's horse was killed. Captain Simpson went in search for another horse for the Major, when he saw Plumb's men involved in an intense battle way out in front of the battle line. We were able to hold a strong position until nightfall at the Saunders farm, three miles further west of Massey's farm. General Blunt sent Lane to Independence to tell Curtis that he would try to hold the line at the Big Blue. During the night, we crossed the Big Blue and constructed foxholes and settled into our positions for the next day's battle. The Union line extended south from the Missouri River to Hickman's Mills along the west bank of the Big Blue River. However, we were a thin line as the main body of the army could only cover a space of some six miles.
• Civil War, 22 Oct 1864. 418 The Byram's Ford, was the main crossing of the Big Blue. You would think that since this was a major thoroughfare that veteran soldiers would have been chosen to guard it. Colonel Jennison of the Fifteenth Kansas was placed in command of the First Brigade, putting him in command of the troops defending Byram's Ford.
A heavy Confederate force attacked Colonel Jennison and his men around noon and before three o'clock in the afternoon he was driven back loosing a priceless position for the Union cause. The failure to hold Byram's Ford exposed our right flank, which was destroyed leaving the survivors to retreat to a new position outside of Kansas City.
Meanwhile, the Eleventh Kansas was holding a ford above the bridge that was being guarded by Colonel Jennison and my men. We saw the Confederate army sweep through the hole that was made in the line when Jennison's men were defeated. Colonel Moonlight must have realized that there was nothing to prevent the Confederates from crossing the Kansas border, because he marched his regiment double-time to the State-line, south of Westport. He reformed his line and waited for the Confederate advance. Colonel Plumb led four companies of the Eleventh Kansas driving Jackman's brigade back with such valor that many compliments were bestowed upon them when they later settled into camp.
Years later, I read an article where Colonel Moonlight described the courage of the llth Kansas. “This charge was under the immediate command of Lieutenant-Colonel Plumb, of the Eleventh Kansas Cavalry, with one wing of the regiment, and it was one of the neatest and prettiest movements of the campaign. The charge was made with a line almost as straight as on dress parade, and with a dash and vim, the boys cheering as they flew along the prairie into the ranks of the enemy.”
A fellow soldier described it as follows: “Jackman's brigade was marching through the gap and had to be stopped else the Confederate army would pour over the State-line into Kansas. To check this advance was now the work of the Eleventh Kansas. The Confederates marched steadily northwest until we came in view of the Eleventh. At that instant Colonel Plumb with four companies was beginning his advance towards the rebels. Seeing this the Confederates stopped short and formed a line of battle facing Plumb, who took his men across the State-line to a little valley, and when his men were directly opposite the enemy, he halted them, faced about, formed his line and charged up the hill, his men cheering and firing at will after the first volley. The flashes of Plumb's guns were like fireflies on a damp night in summer. Jackman's brigade was swept from the field, and the enemy made no further attempt in that quarter.
• Civil War, 25 Oct 1864. We overtook the Confederates as we were crossing Mine Creek about six miles south of Trading Post. The rebels were stalled when their wagons slipped and bogged down in the muddy slopes of the Creek. We formed a line on the north side. We began the attack even though we were outnumbered. We overcame them capturing 600 men and two generals. Price realized he lost the campaign and retreated to rebel territory. The Union lost 100 men and the Confederates lost 1,200 during this skirmish.
We marched from Mine Creek to Charlotte, Missouri where we were involved in a minor skirmish that probably won't even make the history books.
• Civil War, Oct 1864 to Nov 1864. Following the Battle of Charlotte, operations were conducted by some of our company along the border of Arkansas until early February. I received instructions along with other members of Company H to report back to Leavenworth to protect the Kansas frontier from Indian attacks.
• Indian Relations, Nov 1864. Attempts were made to have the Indians sign peace treaties unsuccessfully. The Sand Creek Massacre occurred in November bringing unity to the southern tribes of Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapahoe.
• Civil War, Apr 1865. The civil war came to an end in April 1865 allowing more manpower to be redistributed to the western frontier. Plans of retribution were laid out and put into action against the Indian attacks.
• Indian Relations, May 1865. Colonel Thomas Moonlight led 500 cavalrymen on a 450-mile raid into the Wind River Valley without any results. At the same time, other expeditions were being conducted to the west towards South Pass.
A fight broke out at Horse Creek when Captain Fouts was helping friendly Brules move from Fort Laramie to Fort Kearny. Captain Fouts and 4 soldiers were killed as the Indians escaped to join the hostile Indians. All of Colonel Moonlight's horses were stolen in the effort to pursue the fleeing Indians. He returned to Fort Laramie humiliated.
• Powder River Expedition, Jun-Aug 1865. Company H was given orders to join the Powder River Expedition commanded by General Patrick Edward Connor. We joined up with Colonel Cole in Omaha where we were directed to head up the Loup River Valley turning east of the Black Hills and on to the Powder River in Montana.
• Powder River Expedition, 29 Aug 1865. 419 There were 2,500 men enlisted in the Powder River Expedition under General Connor's authority. In August, Connor issued a command for three columns of cavalry to form up and randezvous at Rosebud Creek. We joined the first column that met up in Omaha under Colonel Cole. The second column left Fort Laramie under Lieutenant Colonel Walker riding north along the west side of the Black Hills with plans to meet up with our column. The third group rode out under General Connor's leadership following the Platte River from Fort Laramie for about 100 miles and then viering north to the headwaters of the Powder River where Connor had previously constructed a small fort. Connor's group confronted a band of 500 Arapahoes under Chief Black Bear along the Tongue River. On August 29th at 7:30 in the morning we attacked the Indians. Although the Indians outnumbered them, they were able to route them out of the area. The assault lasted well after dark. They were able to destroy the Indians ability to wage war and had killed over sixty Indians including the son of Chief Black Bear.
• Powder River Expedition, Sep 1865. 420 The troops under Cole and Walker lacked the proper supplies to survive in the Black Hills and lacked leaders that knew the countryside. We lost most of our horses and mules when we were hit hard by a September storm followed by an attack by fast-riding Indians. We had to destroy the majority of our heavy equipment causing us to travel the remaining distance to Rosebud Creek on foot.
• Powder River Expedition, 11 Sep 1865. General Connor waited for us at Rosebud Creek until it became obvious to him that something had gone awry with his plans. Connor had in his employ a few Pawnees who worked for him as scouts. He sent them out to search for us. They rode in on September 11th to report that they had found hundreds of horses dead and saddles burned. The Pawnee's set out again to follow our trail.
• Powder River Expedition, 24 Sep 1865. The Pawnee finally found us and led us to the Creek , but our divisions were in shambles. Connor found that most of the horses were dead and his men were starving. We made our way back to Fort Laramie in sorry shape. Following this failed sortee, the Powder River Expedition was terminated due to its exhorbitant cost.
• Fort Laramie, Sep-Dec 1865. I was stationed at Fort Laramie where I continued serving my country by escorting the pony express, stages and wagon trains between Julesburg, Colorado and Fort Bridger, Wyoming. The fort had walls that were twenty feet high built of adobe, however it was never enclosed by a wall or stockade. It sat on a hill near the Laramie River about a mile above where it joined the Platte. We often met travelers with wagon trains who made Laramie one of their stopovers on their way along the Oregon Trail. Fort Laramie was 667 miles from the Missouri River, which meant these travelers were very tired from their journey by the time they reached our outpost.
My job was precarious at times as the Oregon Trail was becoming dangerous because of conflicts between the Indians and the settlers. About 20,000 pioneers traveled the Overland Trail from 1862 to 1868.
Ben Holladay, who was known as the Stagecoach King, owned the Overland Trail Mail route. The Overland was established in 1862 through central Wyoming, but the United States Post Office Department ordered the Overland Stage Company to relocate it along what was known as the Cherokee Trail. For a time, this became the only route in which the United States Government would allow wagon trains to travel making it the principal course to the west from 1862 to 1868. The trail commenced westward from Atchison, Kansas and paralleled the Oregon Trail with diversions to Oketo Cutoff in Kansas and Julesburg, Colorado. At Julesburg the trail ran along side the Oregon Trail to the south along the South Platte River to Latham (now Greeley, Colorado). Travelers would often choose to travel south from Latham to the Cerry Creek settlement of Denver they would cross the river and loop north along the foothills following the Cherokee Trail, which crossed the Cache la Poudre River at LaPort. The Overland Trail split into two different pathways between LaPorte and Viginia Dale. One way headed to the east toward Fort Laramie and the other took a western way to Virginia Dale. From Virginia Dale wagon trains would travel through Willow Springs and then cross the Laramie Plains skirting the north side of Elk Mountain near Fort Halleck and the Medicine Bow Mountains where they crossed the North Platte near the mouth of Sage Creek. They would continue west through Bridger's Pass. The travelers would then meet up with the Oregon Trail again at Fort Bridger in Western Wyoming.
Franklin E. Adams was in a train of 64 wagons. At Camp Collins in June of 1865, he wrote that “...the Indians are very troublesome...and had stolen some horses and killed seven men...”
Mr. Van Norstrand from New York wrote the following in my diary:
Denver, Colorado Territory, June 21, 1865
I had not deemed it a great undertaking for another to cross the continent overland, but when I sit here midway, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, the habits of my life changed-all connection with the accumulated interests of many years of toil suspended, social ties sundered, kind friends and loved ones far behind me, with rugged hills, parched deserts, and lonely wastes far, far ahead, I do feel it is a great undertaking for me-for any one. Many friends said they envied me my trip, would themselves like to go, etc. I do not doubt their sincerity-I have thought so myself-but I beg to undeceive them. It is not a pleasant, but it is an interesting trip. The conditions of one man's running stages to make money, while another seeks to ride in them for pleasure, are not in harmony to produce comfort. Coaches will be overloaded, it will rain, the dust will drive, baggage will be left to the storm, passengers will get sick a gentleman of gallantry will hold the baby, children will cry, nature demands sleep, passengers will get angry, the drivers will swear, the sensitive will shrink, rations will give out, potatoes become worth a gold dollar each, and not to be had at that, the water brackish, the whiskey abominable, and the dirt almost unendurable. I have just finished six days and nights of this thing; and I am free to say, until I forget a great many things now very visible to me, I shall not undertake it again. Stop over nights? No you wouldn't. To sleep on the sand floor of a one-story sod or adobe hut, without a chance to wash, with miserable food, uncongenial companionship, loss of seat in a coach until one comes empty, etc., won't work. A through-ticket and fifteen inches of seat, with a fat man on one side, a poor widow on the other, a baby in your lap, a bandbox over your head, and three or four more persons immediately in front, leaning against your knees, makes the picture, as well as your sleeping place, for the trip-but of all this when I come to it...
Denver, June 25, 1865
The Indians have interfered with the running of the stages west of this, and it is uncertain when I shall be able to proceed, I have visited the mines in the mountains at Central City and Black Hawk, and returned here to wait my chances...
...It was near evening of our second day, calm, delightful, but hot. I was sitting with the driver outside, holding an umbrella to protect me from the tropical heat while in but a linen coat. A cloud appeared in the south-east, a sudden and intensely cold breeze struck us, and I will venture to say the thermometer sank thirty degrees in ten minutes; the whole heavens were streaked with forked lightnings; the wind rose to a hurricane that seemed about to snap and start the very sods from the earth, while as to rain-it might have rained harder before, and it might have rained harder since, but I didn't happen to be out in it. A ship might as well proceed under full sail in a typhoon, as a stage across the plains in one of these storms. The teamsters understand themselves, wheel the horses' heads from the wind, and lay to until their fury is passed. This is no fancy sketch. Twice during our passage were we compelled to make this kind of an uncertain anchorage. Stages are frequently capsized. When occurring in the night time, as did one of ours, and which is more usually the case-the Egyptian darkness, interspersed with vivid lightning the most incessant I ever witnessed-reverberating thunder that seemed to make the very earth quake and tremble-with no voice audible above the clatter of the pelting rain-one is strongly reminded that home would be a very comfortable place to be in.
Denver, Colorado, June 26, 1865
I have run a little ahead of my diary. Ten miles out of Atchison, you are fairly in the prairie wilds, and make no town of account until you reach Denver, six hundred and forty miles. For convenience of forage the overland transportation and emigration trains take all the western water courses and start from Leavenworth, Nebraska City, Atchison, St. Joseph, Omaha, &c., so that no one route give a full comprehension of this business. Butterfield's overland dispatch will send out thirty thousand yoke (60,000 head!) of cattle this season, averaging six yoke to the wagon. We reach Denver, is say forty days.
The fare from Atchison to Salt Lake is $350. Baggage over twenty-five pounds, $1.50 per pound-meals extra. I found them to commence at $1 and advance to $2. All this is entirely different from the information given me at the Stage office in New York.
It was eight o'clock in the morning. A whip cracked-a heavy Concord stage wheeled in front of the office; on it was painted “Overland.” Childish though it might have been, I felt sad; it was a long distance. I was running from letters, from home, from friends. Life is not so full of pleasure that we can afford to put three thousand miles between us and our dearest heart treasures and not feel irresolute and pained. Our effects were soon loaded, 1,600 pounds of Mail in the Coot, our baggage on top exposed to the storm. Hear me, Mr. Holladay; all the protection it had was extemporized by the passengers in the shape of coats and shawls-not even a cheap tarpaulin or an old blanket...
The roads were heavy and we made but eighty miles the first twenty-four hours; the route, bearing north by west, crosses into Nebraska at Cottonwood creek, one hundred and seven miles out, and reaches Fort Kearney on the Platte river, two hundred and sixty miles. Prairie fowl, quail, snipe, etc., are seen in abundance, though singular to say we get no taste of any at the stations. At the crossing of the Big Blue creek the driver put our feet about one foot under water without notice, and thought it a good joke. The dust and mud already in the coach, added to the crackers, etc., composing our luncheons, the small bags and bundles necessarily so deposited, made anything but an agreeable mess the balance of the way. This, like most other rivers this way, is a swift, unreliable stream, with steep banks. It rises sometimes two to six feet in an hour and becomes thirty feet deep. In two days it is nearly dry.
Fort Kearney the houses are principally of sod or adobe, one story high, and generally without floors-stations from ten to fifteen miles apart, horses good, four to a coach, eating stations about two per day, meals as good as could be expected, excepting total absence of potatoes.
From about one hundred and fifty miles out, our dignity was much enhanced by a government cavalry escort of two or four horsemen with each stage night and day. The Indians have committed terrible depredations along three hundred miles of the route, burned and pillaged everything, destroyed six thousand bushels of corn at Julesburg, burned hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of wagons, merchandise, &c...
Denver, Colorado, June 27, 1865
Denver is a square, proud, prompt little place, which, like Pompey's Pillar, is surrounded by immensity. It is better built than St. Joseph or Atchison, has fine brick stores, four churches, a good seminary, two theatres, two banks, plenty of gambling shops, a fine United States mint, which I observed had nothing to do, and which, as near as I could ascertain, had actually coined the vast amount of forty thousand dollars in a whole year! And the most abominable hotels a person ever put my feet into. There being no wood, brick becomes a necessity for building purposes-hence the character of its buildings. Population claimed, six thousand. I am sorry to cut them down to four thousand, but that is more than we can count, unless we add the flies, of which at least several millions dine with us every day.
I have omitted to speak of one feature in our travels, which curdles the blood at every step. The cruelty to animals by the brutal drivers is perfectly awful. Each teamster carries a rawhide lash about nine feet long, one and a half inches in diameter at the belly, attached to a short stock or handle, folded over my shoulder, which he uses upon the poor, willing, overworked dumb beasts with apparent delight, and frequently draws blood at every stroke. The concussion is like the snap of a pistol. I wish the drivers-the most blasphemous wretches that ever disgraced a language-might have one good blow to see how we would like it. The seven hundred miles I have traveled have been literally lined with the bones and carcasses of domestic animals...
...These are the longest days, and, consequently, shortest nights. It is hardly dark at nine; a bright moon irradiates the night, and day dawns at three in the morning. Short naps, with my hand on my six-shooter, and the reassuring presence of a military escort, quiets my nerves, and would not add greatly to my insurance policy, in my estimation. The stages run on from here again, but only tri-weekly. The mail is piled up at different places, and I think the bottom of it here will hardly move for a month, I expect my Salt Lake letters are thus detained, and I shall not receive them. It is outrageous the way the public is swindled by the proprietors of this stage-route. I speak only what I know, and repeat a remark made by the agents: “Too much trouble to tear the pile out from the bottom.” If I remember correctly, Mr. Holladay gets $800,000 per annum for carrying the United States mail once a day. This, of course, gives him a chance to run stages, carry passengers, and keep other people off the course. I have seen the stages pass through here loaded with passengers, and not carry a pound of mail, while perhaps two weeks' mail, or more, lay heaped up in the office! The passage from Atchison to Salt Lake is $350. Eight passengers would be $2,800; extra baggage, say $100 more...
Fort Halleck, Dakota (Wyoming), July 1, 1865
After six days detention at Denver, with promise of a clear coast, and seven in the coach, we left that city, but soon found ourselves with eleven passengers, and other mishaps to follow. We leave the Platte five to ten miles to our right, proceed northerly about twelve miles from the mountains for near eighty miles-then pass the first range of mountains, through what are known as the Black Hills. The snow ranges, seen from the plains, are about sixty - seventy miles beyond the first range, though appearing not more than fifteen to twenty miles from where we were riding.
• Honorable Discharge, 6 Dec 1865. I was honorably discharged on December 6, 1865. I made my way back to Illinois where I tried my hand at farming.
• Moved, 1900. I was moved into a soldier and sailor's home for the elderly where a census was taken in 1900 listing me as an “inmate”.
• Notes of Interest. 421 Famous Fox
Michael J. Fox was born Michael Andrew Fox on June 9th, 1961 in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. He adopted the “J” as homage to legendary character actor Michael J. Pollard. He is the fourth of five children born to Bill and Phyllis Fox. Michael's older brother, Steven, is a construction worker. His two elder sisters, Karen and Jackie, are secretaries, while his younger sister, Kelli, is an actress. Bill, who died in 1989, used to be a jockey. After the children began to arrive, he made a career change and joined the Canadian Army. The Fox family was stationed at Army bases all over Canada and when Bill's 25-year stint ended, we finally settled in Burnaby (a suburb of Vancouver, British Columbia). Bill then joined the Vancouver Police Department as a dispatcher; Phyllis worked for a local company as a payroll clerk and 13-year-old Michael started at Burnaby's Central High School.
As a youngster, Michael's passion was ice hockey (today he is a big Rangers and Bruins fan). He played an aggressive, fearless game and made the PeeWee and Junior leagues. Playing hockey was Michael's first career choice, but as he grew older, one obstacle blocked his path... his size. His teammates were developing into large muscular types, and Michael, who was then only 4'9” (today he is 5'4”), had to make a tough decision... he quit! Michael has always been small for his age and longed to be taller. He read that eating made you grow so started to eat as often as he could. He did grow, but unfortunately, it was in the wrong direction! He gained 20lb in weight. A below average student at school who had a tendency to daydream, he took an interest in drawing and in drama. The drama teacher saw great potential in Michael. He knew that CBC were looking for a ten-year-old boy to play the part of “Jamie” in a new series and persuaded the casting agency to test Michael. At first, we didn't want to audition a 15-year-old, stating that he would not be able to pass as a boy five years younger. The drama teacher told them the Michael was small for his age and would pass. Eventually, we agreed to see him and when Michael auditioned, passed with flying colors and the studio snapped him up. He began acting professionally at 15 on the CBC television series Leo and Me. The studio became Michael's second home during the time that “Leo and Me” was being filmed and Michael became completely hooked on show business. From the minute he got his first pay packet, he told his parents he was going to quit school and act full time. Phyllis was hard to convince. She wanted her son to finish high school. Michael dropped out of 12th Grade. It was Michael's grandmother who finally brought her round. To this day, Michael's one regret is that she did not live long enough to see him in “Family Ties”.
Michael married Almira Truax, daughter of Abraham Truax and Nancy Jane Scott, on 3 Sep 1839 in Gosfield, Essex County, Ontario, Canada 2.,414 (Almira Truax was born on 15 Jun 1820 in Dunham, Brome-Missisquoi Mrc, Quebec, Canada 2 and died on 18 Aug 1861 in Belvidere, Boone, Illinois, USA 422.)
Almira Truax and I were married by the Reverand Charles Stewart at the Gosfield Regular Baptist Church. Our witnesses were John Stewart and Philip Fox..
Michael next married Sarah Catherine Hayes on 6 Mar 1867 in Rockford, IL.2 (Sarah Catherine Hayes was born in 1836 in Gosfield, Essex, Ontario, Canada.)
I renewed my acquaintance with Sarah Catherine Wyant, who was a widow with three young children who were ages 6, 4 and.2 years old. Sarah was born to Samuel Hayes and Catherine Gauvreau in 1836 in Gosfield Township, Essex County, Ontario, Canada where I originally hailed from. Her parents were married about 1826 in Mersea Township, Essex County, so our families had years of contact with one another. Iness, Sarah's daughter, was born in 1860 followed by John who was born in 1862 and William was born in 1864. I asked Sarah to marry me and we exchanged our vows on March 6, 1867 in Rockford, Illinois.