S.K. Keogh's Blog: The Jack Mallory Chronicles, page 3
July 27, 2017
THE INCOMPARABLE LIEUTENANT HICKS – Part 4
This is Part 4 of my ongoing series of excerpts from Borden Hicks’ personal account in Glimpses of the Nation’s Struggle. Borden Hicks was a humorous young officer in the 11th Michigan Volunteer Infantry during the American Civil War. The 11th Michigan is the regiment chronicled in my upcoming novel, The Edge of Hell. I’ve included some photos from my research trip to the battlefield back in the ’90s.
We did not arrive on this battlefield till about 4 p.m., September 19th, having been engaged at Crawfish Springs for the day previous to this. We charged on the field near Widow Glen’s house [see my footnote], and drove the Confederates beyond the position our troops occupied.
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Position of the 11th Michigan in the Brotherton Field*
At dusk we threw up a line of works, and sent one company out as skirmishers, then the balance layed [sic] down on their arms for rest. It was so cold that it was impossible to sleep, and we got very little rest. I was informed by one of the residents of the battlefield that ice formed that night. This was told to me some thirty years after the war, and his memory might not have been good, but it certainly was very cold, especially for men who had just loaned their blankets to Longstreet’s men.
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Brotherton Field
On the morning of the 20th, urgent calls came from General Thomas on our left, for reinforcements, and our brigades was [sic] to take our place in the line. Our colonel, noticing that no troops had occupied our place and that the Johnnies were making for the works that we had just left, ordered us about, and it was a foot race for 20 or 30 rods, to see which would get there first. Whether we were nearest or the swiftest sprinters, I do not know, but we got there. In a few moments the order was repeated, this time so imperative that we had to go, and leave the gap in our lines, over which there has been so much controversy in history, as to who was to blame for this break in our lines, thus giving the enemy an entering wedge in our works. I have often speculated on what might have been the result of this important battle if our brigade had been allowed to remain, and hold this line, and thus prevent the Johnnies from gaining an entrance to our lines, and drive our right wing from the field of conflict.
We took up a new position in Kelly’s Field, just to the left of the road, where we concealed ourselves in the underbrush, and awaited the oncoming of the Confederates, who were now flushed with victories. When within two or three rods of our line, we opened fire on them, their front rank went down, the rear rank was nearly put out of business, and we captured nearly all of the balance, including General D.W. Adams, who was in command of the rebel forces making this charge. Our regiment captured General Adams, yet there are no less than six regiments who claim the honor of having captured him, but as the best proof I had his sword, other members of our regiment had his field glasses and revolvers, belt and so forth. I carried his sword on the charge we now made to the McDonald field, going into this charge with a sword in each hand, and looking as savage as a meat ax. Here we took many more prisoners. General Thomas, that grand old man and the hero of Chickamauga, was forming a new line on Snodgrass, or Horse Shoe Ridge, the intrepid defense of which was to save our army from utter defeat and route, and give us Chattanooga and give General Thomas the name of “Rock of Chickamauga” and the nation’s gratitude. We were ordered to fall back and take position on the ridge.
We arrived on the hill at twelve noon. The enemy was making for this point at the same time, as the key to our position. A fearful contest was now waged for the possession of this ridge, which is recorded in history as one of the most desperate and determined struggles that occurred during the Civil War. After the first repulse of the enemy, our lines were reformed, and we got together rails and logs, and made our position more defenseable. Here the command of the company was turned over to me, and I retained it for the balance of our term of service. Some five or six charges were made on our position during the afternoon by General Longstreet’s seasoned veterans. The slope in our front was strewn with the enemy’s dead, so thick that you could almost walk on them. Our men’s faces were black with powder smoke, their tongues fairly hung out for want of water. We replenished our supplies of ammunition and water by going among the bodies of the Johnnies during the lull between charges. About 6 p.m., they succeeded in planting a stand of colors at the toe of the ridge which we had to face for some time till our colonel [Colonel William Stoughton], who was now in command of the brigade, brought up the 18th Ohio, and with this added force of about 250 men, we charged and drove the Johnnies who were so gallantly defending them, from the ridge, and our work for the day was done.
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11th Michigan’s position on Snodgrass Hill with statue of Colonel Stoughton in the background, looking toward the enemy.
About 10 p.m., we received word to quietly leave the battlefield and fall back to Chattanooga. This was the first intimation that we had received that the battle had gone against us. About midnight, we stacked our arms at Rossville just beyond Rossville Gap. There our quartermaster sergeant met us with needed supplies, and what was better than even something to eat, letters from the loved ones at home, for we had not received any mail from home since the commencement of the campaign. After preparing our midnight meal and drinking freely of the clear cold water from the creek, we lay down on our arms to get a much needed rest.
We were routed out at four in the morning to form a part of the rearguard defense of Rossville Gap. Our regiment was posted across the highway, with our flanks well protected by the other regiments who were detailed for this purpose. During the day, several spirited attacks were made on our position, but all of them were repulsed with loss to the enemy. I well remember in one of these attacks that we were momentarily thrown into a panic and started pell-mell for the rear. It was my duty as company commander to run as fast as possible and get ahead of the men, so as to allay their fears. I overtook one of my men and chided him for running from the enemy. He looked up at me very innocently and said, “Captain, what are you running for?”
At 4 a.m., on the 22nd of September, we quietly withdrew our battery and brigade, and marched to Chattanooga four or five miles away. As we passed inside of the defenses of Chattanooga, the rebels sent their farewell compliments after us in the shape of some six-pound solid shot, and as they came rolling along the ground, our men were tempted to play ball, but gave it up on more mature thought.
*Footnote: the brigade’s actual position at this point in the battle was the Brotherton field, not Widow Glen’s. They passed Widow Glen’s on the way to the Brotherton position.
Next time: the Siege of Chattanooga
For more reading on the battle of Chickamauga, I highly recommend Peter Cozzens’s book This Terrible Sound. One of Keith Rocco’s illustrations in the book is of fighting between the 11th Michigan and the 2nd Alabama Battalion on Snodgrass Hill. The monument to the 11th Michigan on Snodgrass Hill is topped by a statue of Colonel William Stoughton, who took command of the brigade on Snodgrass after Colonel Timothy Stanley was wounded.
June 22, 2017
GET READY FOR FREEBIE FRIDAY!!
Tomorrow, June 23, will be Freebie Friday as I run my first promotion to celebrate the re-release of the first book in the Jack Mallory Chronicles, The Prodigal.
For one day only, you can get a free copy of the e-book exclusively through Amazon.com. Follow this link after midnight tonight and download yours.
Don’t have a Kindle? No problem. Just visit your favorite app store and download the free Kindle app for your mobile device.
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June 11, 2017
AN INTERVIEW WITH AUTHOR KAREN DEAN BENSON
Many, many years ago, I had a wonderful critique partner by the name of Karen Dean. We would meet at her house, read our works-in-progress, critique, talk and laugh. Over time, we lost track of each other. Then, like so many people in today’s world of the internet and social media, we found one another again through Facebook.
I was pleased to learn that Karen’s two wonderful historical novels that I had read portions of during our old critique sessions had been published, along with a third novel that was just released this year in her Ladies of Mischief series. So I want to introduce Karen and her novels to my readers through this interview. I’m so glad Karen and I have reconnected. She is a wonderful person, full of life, and that quality shines through in her writing.
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When did you first start writing? Were you an avid reader as a child?
During my troubled childhood, I buried myself in reading. I would ride my bike to the library every Saturday, sit on the window ledge, and read a book (fit for an eight-year-old or whatever my age was), put the book back, and take out the next one until the librarian told me it was time to go home. My reading eventually morphed into, “Hey, I could do this.”
I put out a newspaper in our neighborhood, and though I can’t remember what I wrote, I apparently revealed a lot of the strife in our home. When my mother became aware of what I was doing, that ended that.
As a mom, I wrote to do something with my brain, exercised it with all kinds of short essays on the behavior of my children. Five sons wrestling on the living room floor as my one daughter played with her Barbies. I typed like a mad woman in the closet.
Eventually, as my children went off to school, I came out of the closet and set up a desk in our bedroom. By the way, at that stage of my writing, I used a Royal Portable, and had to weight the top down with books so it wouldn’t bounce across the desk.
By the time I finished my first novel-length manuscript, it had morphed into 160,000 words. Roughly six hundred pages.
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What drew you to historical fiction in particular? Do you read other genres besides historical fiction?
In 1972, a neighbor gave me a book–The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen Woodiwiss. Well, I stooped low enough to hide behind a willow tree as the kids screamed for me. And I confess [to] locking myself in the bathroom, pleading sickness to my husband, because I could not put that book down. It transported me to another time and place.
I have always loved history. For me, it’s the beauty of the dress, the subtle innuendo with behavior. I am drawn to the elegance of a prior time. And I knew I could mold the people into the drama I created. Not only do I enjoy reading about history, I equally enjoy biographies.
I am a fanatical researcher. And I purchase old used books from all the English-speaking world. They give me the nuance and flavor of the times I want to embed in my tales.
When I use the research I need, and mix it with my imagination, I get to dance in a ballroom, ride a wild horse, sneak around a mansion and eavesdrop, discover old bones. It’s a lot of fun when you think one hundred years or more ago…
Tell us a bit about your series and what drew you to writing about these three women.
It was a lark to begin with. I wrote about Renn Arelia Sheridan at a time when I was overburdened with five teenagers and a tot; this was my escape. I love her for giving me a place to go in 1788 northern England, a sail on a Spanish galleon, then a castle in northern Spain. Her antics were a real escape for me. I wasn’t thinking publishing; I was trying to stay sane.
After the loss of my children’s father, my widowed mother moved in with me, and really encouraged me to write something else. Thus arrived Chenoa Sandoval in 1830, at Mission San Carlos Borromeo in Carmel/Monterey, known then as Mexican territory. The time of the dons, if you will. I finished at about 115,000 words, and put it in a box for safekeeping.
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I joined a group of writers who wanted to put an anthology together and asked me to write something short. Ha! I couldn’t think of anything short. But then I had the idea to write about Chenoa as an old woman in her late 60s, sitting on her veranda overlooking the Pacific and thinking about her remarkable life.
The publisher loved the story so much, she asked if I had written any lengthy fiction. I told her about the two boxes I had, sent them to her (digitally, of course). A month later she sent me a three-book contract, which I signed, and she asked me to come up with a title for the series.
It seemed these two young women shared an infinity for murder, mayhem, mystery and romance, so out of that came Ladies of Mischief. Now all I had to do was write a third book–Aisling O’Quinn, who is born on a ‘coffin ship’ out of Ireland, is raised in the slum tenement Five Points in Manhattan, and forced to board an orphan train.
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Do you personally identify with your heroines? Did your own daughter influence your characters’ personalities?
It is said, “Write what you know.” And that is as close to answering this question as I’m going to get.
You mentioned an Irish series of books in an early conversation. Tell us a bit about them and what your vision is.
When I finished the research for Aisling’s family background in [the Midlands of] Ireland, I knew I had to write a series about the grand ol’ sod. But first we had to visit Ireland. I’ve traveled a lot of our world and gone back to a few places a couple of times, [and] I have to say I could live in Ireland.
It was beautiful, serene, inviting…simply grand. We traveled the entire [circumference]; I visited every single used bookstore and a lot of regular ones. The month after we got home, about fifty books were delivered. I spent this past winter reading most of these books, gathering my research for this new series: The Village of Hawthorn Lough, set in County Waterford, Ireland, 1799-1800s. This series will have characters that continue into the next book.
Please tell my readers a bit about yourself–what do you like to do outside of writing?
I graduated from Northwood [University], married, and lived along the banks of the Au Sable in Grayling, Michigan, for years.
Between diapering my first child and kissing the sixth off to college, [being] widowed twice, and caring for an ill mother, I wrote and read. It clearly was/is my passion. I have many dear friends, and all these adult children and their spouses, and grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren, so we have football games, wrestling matches, dance recitals, soccer, high school/college graduations, birthdays, guitar recitals. I am sure I am forgetting something here.
I like to say we divide our time between golf courses in Florida and Michigan. My husband, Charlie, likes to golf. Yes, dear Charlie is my third and last husband. I made him sign a 30-year contract that he would stick around for a long time. He croaked out, “My gosh, woman, I’ll be 90.” I just smiled and said, “Sign on the dotted line.”
You can connect with Karen online at her website, karendeanbenson.com and on Facebook.
June 7, 2017
LAST STOP ON MY BLOG HOP
I’ve been blog hopping to promote the 2nd edition release of The Prodigal, and the last stop is today at author Kim Rendfeld’s blog. Check out my article on her site via this link, and while you’re there, check out Kim’s two historical novels. I’ve read them both and encourage you to do the same.
June 5, 2017
BLOG HOP STOP #4
Today I’m being hosted by author J.M. Aucoin, with a short article called You Don’t Know Jack. I give a bit of a lighthearted introduction to the three main characters in my Jack Mallory novels to celebrate the second edition of the first book in the series, The Prodigal.
While you’re at J.M. Aucoin’s site, check out his writing as well. Action/adventure in the tradition of the Musketeers, as well as piratical stories.
June 2, 2017
THIRD STOP ON THE BLOG HOP
Author Matthew Willis interviewed me on his blog. You can read the interview here. And keep your eyes out for Matthew’s upcoming novels about William the Conqueror!
June 1, 2017
SECOND STOP ON MY BLOG HOP
Tinney Heath, author of A Thing Done (an excellent read, btw), hosted me earlier this week on her blog. I share a bit more about the research behind The Prodigal. Please stop by Tinney’s website (she just returned from another research trip to Italy), and check out her writing as well. Enjoy!
Historical Fiction Research blog
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May 29, 2017
FIRST STOP ON MY BLOG HOP
I’m doing a short blog hop starting today to promote The Prodigal. My first stop is at author Linda Collison’s blog. Linda has written award-winning nautical fiction as well as young adult novels. Please check out her writing, and I hope you enjoy my guest post on her site wherein I discuss how The Prodigal came home.
You can visit her site and see my post at this link: LindaCollison.com
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May 26, 2017
WHAT’S OLD IS NEW AGAIN!!
The Prodigal has had a facelift! New cover, new lower prices on both paperback and e-book formats! I’m very excited to be able to offer this novel at more affordable prices than before. I hope if you haven’t read The Prodigal, you might reconsider now and take advantage of the new pricing. It’s a fast-paced read with colorful characters.
Click here to purchase.
And stay tuned for upcoming promotions!
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A story of relentless pursuit, betrayal, and revenge:
As a young boy Jack Mallory knows horror and desolation when James Logan and his pirates murder his father and abduct his mother. Falsely accused of piracy himself, Jack is thrown into jail. He survives seven years in London’s notorious Newgate prison and emerges a hardened man seeking revenge.
His obsession with finding his mother’s kidnapper drives him to the West Indies where he becomes entangled with a fiery young woman named Maria Cordero. With a score of her own to settle with James Logan, she disguises her gender and blackmails Jack into taking her aboard his pirate brig, Prodigal, in his desperate search for Logan. Their tumultuous relationship simmers while Jack formulates a daring plan to rescue his mother and exact revenge upon Logan for destroying his family. But Logan has no intentions of losing what he now treasures more than life itself–Jack’s mother, Ella.
April 30, 2017
THE INCOMPARABLE LIEUTENANT BORDEN HICKS – Part 3
This is Part 3 of my ongoing series of excerpts from Borden Hicks’ personal account in Glimpses of the Nation’s Struggle. Borden Hicks was a humorous young officer in the 11th Michigan Volunteer Infantry during the American Civil War. The 11th Michigan is the regiment chronicled in my upcoming novel, The Edge of Hell.
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BATTLE OF STONE RIVER
In December we started out on the Stone River campaign under the command of General Rosecrans. We marched towards Franklin, and then turned at right angles and marched across the country, and on the morning of the 30th were in line of battle in front of Murfreesboro. Our skirmishers were in the timber in our front. Soon a stretcher was seen coming from the skirmish line, and our first man killed was brought in, a lieutenant from Company F. As we looked on his still form, we realized what war meant. Our cheeks paled as we viewed our first sacrifice for our country.
On December 31 we held a position to the right of the railroad in a cleared field. Instead of taking a position in the timber in our front, we lay in the open field, on the side sloping towards the enemy, when we could have been protected by moving back a couple of rods, and getting below the crest or rise in the ground.
This was our first big battle and our line had to be kept straight. At daylight the Confederates charged our lines in massed columns. Away to our right our forces commenced to give way, finally reaching us, and we too had to fall back to the railroad cut. Here we reformed our lines, and took position in front of two six-gun batteries. The enemy was coming, the guns were loaded with grape and canister, and fired over our heads as we lay on the ground. The concussion from twelve guns just back of us and over our heads was terrific and affected our ears. It caused mine to ring, and they have been ringing ever since. I mention this fact as a basis for a pension. From here we charged into the cedar thicket, repulsing the so-far-victorious enemy, and leaving our front clear.
That night we moved to our left near Stone River, and on January 1 made a charge across the river with the 19th Illinois, capturing a battery and a number of prisoners. This charge was made famous by George F. Root, composing and dedicating to the 19th Illinois, the song entitled “Who Will Save the Left?” The reverses of the first day had been overcome by the victories of the second, the enemy had retired, and the field of battle was ours, and we were at liberty to move forward.
MURFREESBORO
The army now moved up to, and around Murfreesboro. The 78th Pennsylvania and our regiment were detailed as provost guards, with our Colonel Stoughton as provost marshal. Each company was assigned a private dwelling house as quarters. This duty was not very strenuous, and we rather enjoyed it for the five months that General Rosecrans now took to prepare his army for a forward movement.
While stationed at Murfreesboro, my father came down to visit us. I made up a party to visit the battlefield of Stone River, getting horses to ride. I had just blossomed out in a new uniform, with lieutenant’s shoulder straps as large and gaudy as could be bought. I had never been noted for my horsemanship, and the farther we rode the more my pants insisted on crawling up my legs, and reached high water mark. As we rode through the camp of a cavalry regiment, they commenced to guy me, by calling out, “Pull down your pants, Lieutenant, pull down your pants!” Whenever I had occasion after that to ride a horse, I went afoot.
CHATTANOOGA CAMPAIGN
In June we started on the Chattanooga Campaign. Previous to this time we had the pleasure, as well as duty, of escorting [noted Copperhead, Clement] Vanlandingham through our lines, and turning him over to his avowed friends, our enemy.
We had a small engagement at Duck River, and then were stationed for a time at Cowan, on the Nashville & Chattanooga Railway, to guard a tunnel. This must have been the place where two Irishmen were looking at the tunnel. When a train came along and dashed into it, Mike says to Pat, “What are yez thinking about?” and Pat replied, “I was wondering what would have happened if the cars had missed the hole.”
We remained here till the army was ready to cross the Tennessee River. We crossed at Bridgeport, about the 1st of September. We made our way slowly up and over Sand Mountain, and one bright morning, the 8th of September, we chopped out the roads leading down the east side of Lookout Mountain, and, about two o’clock p.m., arrived in the valley at McLemore’s Cove, the first troops of the XIV Army Corps to arrive in the face of the enemy. We were ordered back that night by General Negley to the top of Lookout Mountain and arrived there at two a.m. On the 9th the regiment with the balance of the brigade and followed by the whole division again descended into the valley. Here we soon found that we were confronted by General Longstreet’s corps, so thinking discretion was the better part of valor, we fell back to the foot of the mountain where we threw up temporary works at what is known as Davis Cross Roads. Our division was ordered to fall back in echelon, which was done in a most masterly and successful manner, our brigade had a sharp and decisive fight at this point.
We had thrown off our knapsacks in order to work more freely. I had hung my haversack on the limb of a tree. We were ordered to fall back and take position behind one of the other brigades. The enemy were so close on us that the boys left their knapsacks and never saw one again while in the service. I had gotten back about two or three rods when I realized that I had deserted my base of supplies, so back I charged into the teeth of the enemy and snatched my haversack from the teeth of the enemy. This was a very brave and heroic deed, and yet it was not reported to the General Commanding, neither had Congress ever voted me a Medal of Honor, and no song has even been dedicated entitled, “Oh, Save My Knapsack.”
The various skirmishes and battles took time and gave General Rosecrans a chance to concentrate his army in defense of Chattanooga, the goal for which we started when we commenced the campaign, as when we first came into the valley, our army was spread out to the north and south some sixty miles.
(Next time: the battle of Chickamauga.)


