The Battle of Albany – Bloody Bill Anderson's Reign of Terror Ends at Last

One early September day a few years ago, a gentleman, many years my senior, called me at the newspaper. "Hey Liz, can you go for a ride? I've got something to show you," he asked.

His name  was Frank and he had befriended me through chamber meetings that year. The retired founder of the favorite ice cream stand (Dari-B) in Excelsior Springs, Frank was also an avid historian and archaeologist. I knew he had something good to show me.

"Sure," I said. "I'll be ready and waiting."

I didn't have long to wait and he pulled up in front of the office in his 1970s era boat of a car, grinned at me and said to get in and buckle my seatbelt. Off we went.

Frank took me out of town and down a dirty, dusty road – pointing out his house to me at the edge of the golf course and the Battle(s) of Fredericksburg monument nearly across the street from his home, first taking me down to Lake Doniphan and then out through the twisty, turning dirt roads of the small foothills just out side of Excelsior Springs.

Fall had come a bit early and the trees were changing – their orange, gold and rust-colored leaves sparkling in the perfect afternoon sun. As he drove, Frank pointed out this place and that place – then began showing me where the ancient people had gathered, up at the tops of the foothills, along the riverbeds, the funeral mounds. He had stacks and stacks of artifacts he had collected in his home.

But the piece de resistance was when he turned to me and asked if I knew who Murrell Thomas was. "No," I replied. Frank informed me that the Battle of Albany (now called Orrick), in which Bloody Bill Anderson had been killed, was on Thomas' property and we were headed that way. I was fairly bubbling with excitement – what an adventure we were on!

Frank drove down a long, very winding dirt road and suddenly turned left onto another dirt road. On our left was a small foothill that ran for miles. On our right was the river bottoms – fertile land that is flat, and was heavily laden with golden soybeans on this day, which bordered the highway that ran very close to the Missouri River.

Frank took a sharp left turn up a driveway, meeting a car coming down. We got out to chat with the woman and I found her rather familiar. It turned out she was the mother of a close friend, with whom I had worked at my last newspaper job. Suddenly I realized that Murrell Thomas was my friend, Patty's, grandfather.

We were assured that we were welcome and after viewing the site, monument and graves, to go on up to the house and visit with Murrell – who was in his mid-80s.

A few feet up the driveway on our right was a small clearing. We parked and got out, climbing a few feet up an embankment to the beautiful, peaceful glen that was bordered on all sides by massive trees. There was a large monument marking the Battle of Albany, which took place on Oct. 27, 1864, listing the deaths of the Partisan Rangers who lost their lives that day in addition to Bloody Bill.

The Battle of Albany monument was erected on the site
in 1988 and also marks the site of the burial of the 8
Partisan Rangers who were buried here. (Photo by Liz Johnson)

There were other graves there too that supposedly belonged to the original occupants of the house, built in the 1820s – one of the oldest dwellings in Ray County. I turned to look at them, some of the tombstones were broken and lying flat, a few were upright – the words carved into them so long ago very difficult to read. Nestled between two of them was a tiny little headstone that must have marked the burial of a young child – the date was barely legible, but I could make out the year 1820.

I was in awe, taking in the peacefulness of the glen and trying to wrap my head around the bloody carnage that had taken place 147 years before.

When I research history, I like to go to the assorted places in which I'm writing about, to get a feel for them, the ambience, such as it is in modern times. I like to get a measure of what it might have been like all those years ago. This place had no evil associated with it. It was truly lovely and peaceful.

I asked Frank if we could go and chat with Murrell and he quickly agreed. It was proof positive of the way the older folks are when Murrell answered the door to find two total strangers standing there asking to come in and chat with him. He not only stepped aside to allow us to enter, but seemed thrilled we were there.

What a wonderful, gracious man he is. I sat down on his couch and listened.

Murrell had served in WWII and come home, married and bought the property and house where he and his wife could raise their family. Not long after settling into the house, Murrell found the graveyard.

"I started to town one day and saw the gravestones," he said, his eyes staring out the window as he remembered that day over 50 years ago. "I crawled up through the brush and verified there was a gravestone up there. I used a tractor and cleared the land, which was a blackberry patch with berries as big as your thumb," said Murrell smiling broadly.

He said he counted nine graves that day so long ago – and he's continued to keep it mowed and cared for these past 50-plus years.

I asked him how he knew some of the graves were from the Partisan Rangers because there were stones erected where the original settlers of the property were buried.

"There were indentations," he said, "where the soil had settled after being filled in around the bodies. There weren't any vaults in those days," he added, grinning at me.

"They appeared to be buried where they fell," he added, describing the hodge-podge manner in which the soldier's graves looked. However, fellow historians have disagreed with Murrell's assessment on that, because they say, the ambush most likely did not occur on that little spot of land in which they were buried.

It could very well be that the patch of land existed and when the men needed to be buried, they were carried up there, graves hastily dug and the corpses dropped into the ground quickly.

Murrell described what he knew about the short battle that took place.

"The driveway used to be the Albany Road," he said. "Two hundred of Bloody Bill's men were camped on the flats (what I described as the bottoms). Bloody Bill had just breakfasted down the road at Mr. Blythe's house," (William Riley Blythe).

Murrell said that Cole Younger, Jesse and Frank James were among those of the Partisan Rangers that were camped on the land that was now covered in soybean fields.

Historical accounts state that there were 300 men of the First Missouri State Militia Calvary (Union) and portions of the 51st and 33rd Enrolled Missouri Militia, led by Major Samuel P. Cox of Gallatin, Missouri – these soldiers were camped in another area of Albany.

Cox had gathered his men, determined to track down the infamous Bloody Bill Anderson and his men – the ambush and heinous murder/mutilation of local men Smith and John Hutchings, Phillip Siegel, Capt. Colley and George O'Dell from the Fredericksburg skirmish on Aug. 12, very fresh in the minds of the Union men.

Cox's men didn't have great weapons, while the bushwhackers always had plenty of high quality pistols, rifles, ammunition and horseflesh – something that always gave them an edge, including clothing that had extra pockets in which to have their pistols and ammunition ready as needed.

However, Cox's men were determined to take down Anderson and end his reign of terror. Cox learned from a woman in the area, allegedly a woman who was a northern sympathizer, but who had herself served Anderson his breakfast just that morning (can we just say "wow" to another brave 1860s woman?), that Anderson's men were camped nearby.

Cox decided to give Anderson a dose of his own medicine. That is, to take the man down in classic guerrilla style – by hiding out in the woods and ambushing the man and his men.

Cox positioned his men in some woods along both sides of a tree line – and if you were to see Murrell Thomas' 21st century property, you actually could almost imagine how this occurred.

According to Cox's own account, "Lieutenant Baker was sent ahead to reconnoiter and bring on the fight and then retreat through our line. Baker dashed up to where Anderson and his men camped and opened fire.  Instantly, Anderson and his men were in their saddles and gave chase to Baker, who retreated under instructions and came dashing through our line. Anderson and some 20 of his men came on, a revolver in each hand."

I can completely envision this. Baker enticing Anderson and the man, clearly a sociopath, not liking the idea of some upstart young Union fellow taunting him – taking off in a mad dash after him ... right into an ambush worthy of his own design.

"When my men opened fire," said Cox, "many of Anderson's command went down, others turned and fled, but Anderson and two of his men went right through the line shooting and yelling, and it was as Anderson and one of his men turned back that both of them were killed."

The bloody reign of terror that was Capt. William T. "Bloody Bill" Anderson was over at last.

Anderson's body was taken to Richmond where he was propped up on a board and a photo taken, as was the custom of the day.

Upon inspection of Anderson's body, the following was found: $273 in paper money, some silver change, a fine gold watch and chain, a silver watch, $323 in gold, seven pistols, small paper currency and $18 in Confederate money. Also in his pockets were two Rebel flags, one approximately two feet long and 10 inches wide, another was very small, yet fine about one foot long and four inches wide, 12 stars on one side and 11 on the other – this was made of fine silk ribbon.

This smaller flag was inscribed on the center stripe, "Presented to Capt. Wm. T. Anderson by his friend M.L.R.," and on the other side was, "Don't let it be contaminated by Federal hands."

Too late for that.

Orders found in Anderson's pocket completed his identification, and were directly from Major General Sterling Price. Also found on his person were the morbid remains of several scalps hanging from his saddle, including that of Capt. Colley, whom he had killed and scalped in the Aug. 12 Battle of Fredericksburg. He also allegedly had a string with 53 knots on it – supposedly one knot for each man he had killed.

Four Federal soldiers were killed during the Albany battle. The Partisan Rangers that were killed in addition to Anderson were: Hank (Henry) Patterson, Simonds (first name unknown), Anson Tolliver, Paul Debenhorst, Smith Jobson, Luckett (first name unknown), John McIlvaine and Jasper Moody.

The above men are all listed on the known roster of men who rode with William Clarke Quantrill.

Legend has it that Anderson's head was removed from his body and put on a telegraph pole and exhibited for all to see in Richmond, though that has never been proven.

Anderson is buried in Pioneer Cemetery, now known as the Mormon Cemetery in Richmond. Anderson was not Mormon, but the cemetery became a burial site for Mormons after his death. In 1908, Cole Younger returned to Richmond with his amusement show and, upon learning that Anderson's grave was unmarked, made a big show of holding a funeral for him, which exists in a far corner of the cemetery, far away from the Mormon graves.

Younger and another notorious man, Jim Cummins – who had not only ridden with Quantrill and Anderson, but who had ridden with the James gang as well – both spoke about the great deeds they felt Anderson did during his years as a Partisan Ranger. They cited the fact that Anderson was under direct orders from General Sterling Price himself, and thus justified Anderson's actions.

Bloody Bill's grave in the early 1900s.
(Photo from the Richmond News)

One can certainly debate those actions. War is one thing, killing is part of war – mutilation and senseless killing? That's another thing entirely.

Anderson was 24 years old at the time of his death. It would be over 100 years after his death, 1967 in fact, before an actual headstone would be installed at the grave site.

Note: I am curious as to the comments and opinions of my readers on Anderson. Was he justified in how he killed? I've been criticized for writing the facts of Anderson's reign of terror and stating my opinion, that those who descend from Quantrill's men feel I have unfairly portrayed the man as a fiend.

I merely report what I've researched from first-hand reports and some hearsay. The man once killed another soldier – a Union man – and reportedly stated that, "I am the worst fiend you will ever meet."

Even Anderson knew who and what he truly was.