Fremont's army reached Springfield two days after the charge of the body-guard, the rebels retiring as the advance of the column approached. There was an amusing incident connected with the charge which may here be related.
A corporal and half a dozen men became separated from the rest of the body-guard and straggled into Springfield after the others had left. While the corporal was undecided what to do, a flag of truce came in from the rebels, asking a suspension of hostilities to permit the burial of the dead.
The corporal received the flag of truce at the courthouse, and, on learning the object of the visit, said he must consult his general, who was lying down in an inner room of the building. He disappeared for several minutes, and after a sufficient time had elapsed for a parley with the imaginary general, he returned with the partial and conditional approval of the request. He cautioned the officer bearing the flag of truce not to approach a certain piece of woods near the scene of the fight until word could be sent there that a truce had been arranged; otherwise there would be danger of a collision between the troops, as the general's division was too much exasperated to be under control. He said it would take not less than three hours to arrange the matter, and meantime the burying party must remain away. The flag of truce departed, and the corporal hastily summoned his men and decamped in the direction which his chief had taken.
A ruse not unlike this was played by the colonel of a Kansas regiment that was suddenly confronted while on the march through western Missouri by a force four times its own strength. The colonel immediately deployed his entire regiment into a skirmish-line and boldly advanced to battle. The rebels naturally thought that when an entire regiment was deployed as skirmishers there must be a good sized force behind it. They retired carefully and in good order, the Kansas colonel pressing them sufficiently close to give the impression that he was anxious for a fight. By this ruse, which required a good deal of nerve to undertake, a battle was avoided and the prestige of victory went to the Unionists.
The day after Fremont's advance reached Springfield the column from Rolla made its appearance, and went into camp just outside the town. Jack and Harry were attached to the wagon-train as before, but with the advantage in their favor that they were allowed to retain the horses which had been given to them after the capture of the rebel captain, and therefore they were able to see more of the country than under their former circumstances. There had been no opposition on the march, and therefore the trip from Rolla had been devoid of incidents of importance. The boys went several times with scouting parties that were sent out to examine the country, on both sides of the line of march, but however much they wanted to get into a brush with the enemy they could not find an enemy to brush with. All the men who sympathized with the rebellion seemed to have gone to the rebel army, with the exception of those who were too old for service.
But if the men were absent, the women were not; and what was more, they were not slow, in most cases, to make known their feelings. They denounced the “Yankees” and “Dutch” in the bitterest terms, taunting them with robbing and killing honest people who were fighting in defense of their homes; charging them with being cowards and hirelings, and sometimes cursing them roundly in language altogether unfit for ears polite or lips refined.
One day a woman poured upon Jack and Harry a volley of vituperation that was delivered with such rapidity as to render fully half of it unintelligible. Jack was at first inclined to anger, and started to “talk back,” but Harry restrained him, and asked the woman if that was all she had to say.
“All I've got to say?” she screamed; “no, I've got more to say; and that is that you're a pair of brainless boys that sense is wasted on.'T ain't no use talking to such babies without no more beards than the back of my hand.”
“Did you ever read 'Washington's farewell address to his army, madam?” said Harry, with the utmost gravity depicted on his face.
“No; I don't know nothing about it,” she replied. “Who's he, I'd like to know; one of your Dutch thieves, I s'pose?” and her voice came down a note or two from its very high pitch.
“He was first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen,” said Harry, with his mock gravity continued throughout.
“I s'pose he's one of your Dutch generals or colonels,” retorted the woman. “He'd better not come around here, or I 'll tell him what I think of him and all his other Dutchmen.”
“He will not come, madam; I 'll take care that he does n't. But in his farewell address he remarked that there was nothing half so sweet in life as two souls without a single thought, and two hearts that beets and cabbages could not turn from their faithful allegiance.”
“What's that got to do with us, I'd like to know,” said she. “He'd better not come around here alone talking that way; but if he fetches along his Dutch thieves, we can't help ourselves. You'uns ought to go home if you want to save yourselves from killing, for the Southern men won't leave one of ye alive.”
“That is what I was saying to my friend here,” responded Harry; “and now that we've had our call, we 'll take your advice and go.”
Away they rode, and had a good laugh as soon as they were out of sight of the house. Jack admitted that Harry had shown good sense in making light of the vituperation they received, and said he would follow the same plan in future.
“It's no use trying to convert these people to our way of thinking,” said Harry, as they rode along on their way to rejoin the column. “Argument is wasted on them just as it would be wasted on us. Nobody could win us over to believe in secession, and why should we expect these men and women, born and bred with slaves around them, to regard slavery and what comes of it as we regard it.” Jack acquiesced in Harry's theory, and he further admitted that if he had been born in the South and brought up there, it was fair to suppose that he would have believed in state-rights and the other principles that the Southern leaders had advocated since the formation of the republic.
After the arrival of the column at Springfield and its junction with the forces of General Fremont, there was a prolonged halt to wait for supplies for the army, preparatory to a further advance into the enemy's country. The rebels fell back toward the Arkansas line, and it was reported that a force was advancing to join them from Arkansas, when they would be ready to meet us. Scouting parties were sent out, and ascertained that there was practically no enemy within fifty miles, the rebel army being concentrated at Cassville, where they waited the reinforcements mentioned. The country far beyond Wilson's Creek was entirely safe, only a stray scouting party of rebels having been seen for several days.
Jack and Harry obtained permission to visit Wilson's Creek and the battle-ground from which they had been driven eleven weeks before. “The thing that impressed us most,” said Jack, in his letter to his father, which he wrote the evening afterward, “was the absolute stillness of the place in contrast to the roar of artillery and the crash of the small arms on the day of the battle. There was no sound whatever to break it, except the occasional chirping of a bird or the rippling of the creek, except our own voices and the breaking of the twigs under the feet of our horses. At every step we took we could not help contrasting the cool autumn morning with that hot day in August when shot and shell and bullets were flying all around and the sound of the cannon was like rapid peals of thunder.
“My horse stumbled over something in the grass, and I looked down to see what it was. It was a human skull on which his foot had fallen, and the skull turning had caused him to stumble as he did. A few feet away lay the dismembered skeleton to which the skull evidently belonged. It was probably the remains of a soldier who had been wounded and crawled under a tree for shelter and died there, as the spot was among the trees, and away from the beaten track. There were bits of cloth scattered over the ground, and it was evident that birds or wild animals had been at work there; and also upon another skeleton a little further on, which was disturbed and scattered like the first.
“On the battle-field there were numerous graves, that showed how severe had been the carnage; some were single graves, while others were sufficiently broad to contain a dozen or more bodies. Fragments of weapons, pieces of the broken wheel of a gun-carriage, and of the shell that destroyed it, were lying all around, and the trees everywhere were seamed and scarred by bullets. Then there were skeletons of horses lying where the animals fell, and these had also been the prey of birds or animals, to judge by the general aspect of dismemberment.
“We looked for the spot where General Lyon fell, and found it marked by an inscription carved upon the nearest tree. A farmer living near the battle-field came out to show us around, and he told us that the rebel soldiers cut off the glossy mane and tail of General Lyon's horse and divided it among them, to wear as badges of honor or send home to their friends. Then they took away the teeth and bones as souvenirs of the fight, and when these were exhausted the teeth and bones of other horses were secured as relics of the general's favorite steed.
“We rode over and around Bloody Hill and then descended to the valley of the creek, where the rebels had their camp on the morning of the battle. Here there were more traces of the conflict in the shape of the ashes of the wagons that were set on fire at the time of Sigel's attack, and the bits of iron which the fire could not consume. And all the time the stillness impressed us so much that it was almost painful.”
They returned to Springfield by the Fayetteville road, having gone to the battle-field by the route which was followed by General Lyon.
The next day there was a rumor that the rebels had been reinforced and were advancing. A battle could be looked for very soon, and the whole camp was in a state of excitement.
On the morning of the second of November the scouts brought positive information that the rebels were advancing, and the next day it was reported that they were camped on the old battleground at Wilson's Creek and would fight there. The general officially announced it, and gave orders for an advance on the following day.
The army was ready to move, pickets were doubled and grand guards increased, and a battery of four guns was placed on the Fayetteville road to greet the enemy if he chose to come on. Jack and Harry slept that night with their horses saddled; their sleep was more in theory than practice, as they were so excited that they hardly closed an eye during the night.
For some time there had been rumors that General Fremont was about to be removed from the command of the Western Department. It was said that the authorities at Washington were greatly dissatisfied with the way he had managed affairs, and thought he gave more attention to making a grand display than in pushing operations against the enemy. Rumors of the impending change grew more and more numerous, and finally, on the second of November, General Fremont was officially notified of his removal from command and the appointment of General Hunter in his place.
Then on the third came the report that the enemy was in force at Wilson's Creek, and the plan of battle was formed. But the arrival of General Hunter at midnight caused the order for the troops to march at daybreak to be countermanded, and so the army did not move out to fight, greatly to the disappointment of our young friends.
It was fortunate for Fremont's reputation that the army did not make the proposed march, as the fact would have been revealed, which was discovered next day by a reconnoitering party which General Hunter sent out, that there was not a rebel camped on the old battleground or any where near it. A scouting party of about fifty men had been in the neighborhood, but they did not remain an hour; they had simply satisfied themselves that the Union army was still in Springfield, and then returned to their army at Cassville.
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“How could General Fremont have been so deceived?” was the very natural inquiry of Jack when it became known exactly how little foundation there was for the report of the near presence of the enemy.
“He was deceived by his scouts, I presume,” said Harry. “Suppose we ask one of our friends, who 'll know more about it.”
So they referred the matter to one of the soldiers attached to the commissary department, and the latter explained as follows:
“You understand,” said he, “that a general must depend a good deal on what his scouts tell him, and to avoid being deceived by them he is compelled to use a great deal of judgment. There are three classes of scouts: those who are really brave, cool and truthful; those who intend to be honest, but are timid and credulous, and lastly those who are born liars and boasters. The first are not always to be had, and at best are scarce, and so a general's scouting force is largely made up of the second and third classes. The second class get their information from the frightened inhabitants, and the fifty or so that composed the scouting party of rebels which came as far as 'Wilson's Creek were easily magnified into five or ten thousand; the imagination and fears of the scouts doubled the numbers given by the inhabitants, and thus the fictitious army was created. As for the liars and boasters, they are always, if their stories could be believed, doing prodigies of valor and whipping ten or twenty times their number of the enemy.
“What they principally do is to scare the people through whose country they ride, and many of them are not above plundering after a fashion no better than downright robbery. Generally they are in no hurry to meet the enemy face to face, but confine their scouting to places that are entirely safe.”
The soldier knew what he was talking about. Among Fremont's followers were several men of this sort with the rank of captain or lieutenant, and several who were unattached to any command and had an air of mystery about them. One of them used to ride out of camp about sunset as though bent on an important mission. He would return in the morning with a thrilling story of a night's ride, in which he had several times been fired upon by rebel scouting parties, and had used his revolver with such effect as to leave five or perhaps ten of his enemies dead upon the ground.
The fact was he went only a mile or two, and there spent the night at a farmhouse, having previously informed himself as to the entire safety of the place.
Another so-called scout was a forager whose equal is rarely to be seen. Whenever the army went into camp he would take half-a-dozen companions and start on a foraging expedition, from which he returned with a varied assortment of things, most of which were utterly unsuited to the uses of an army in the field and had to be left behind. One day he brought back a wagon drawn by two oxen and two cows, and with a horse attached behind it. Inside the wagon he had a pair of bull-terrier pups about three months old, a hoopskirt, and other articles of the feminine wardrobe, a baby's cradle and also a grain-reaping one, a rocking-chair, some battered railway-spikes, three door-mats and a side-saddle. Another time he returned with a family carriage drawn by a horse and a mule, and containing a litter of young kittens without the mother-cat, a bird-cage with a frightened canary in it, an empty parrot-cage, several bound volumes of sermons by celebrated English divines, and a box of garden-seeds.
This same scout got into trouble afterwards in a queer sort of a way. While on a foraging tour at one time he secured a lot of ready-made clothing, which he found in a trunk where some salt belonging to the rebel authorities had been stored. The quartermaster refused to receive the trunk and contents, and so the captain carried it to St. Louis and took it to the hotel where he temporarily stopped.
It so happened that some detectives were hunting for a suspected thief, who was said to be stopping at the hotel. They got into the captain's room by mistake and searched his trunk while he was absent; they did not find the articles they sought but they did find thirteen coats of different sizes, without any waistcoats or trousers to match. This was considered such a remarkable wardrobe for a gentleman to carry, that they did not hesitate to arrest him on general principles. He was locked up over night and did not succeed in obtaining his liberty until the quartermaster could be found to show that the goods were not stolen, but were simply the spoils of war.
Immediately after his removal, General Fremont, who had been in command just one hundred days, returned with his staff to St. Louis, and the army was ordered back to the line of the railway. On the ninth of November it evacuated Springfield, which was soon after occupied by General Price, and the second campaign of the Southwest was over. General Hunter remained only fifteen days in command and was succeeded by General Halleck, who proceeded to undo pretty nearly everything that Fremont had established.
Late in November Jack and Harry found themselves once more in Rolla, where a part of the army of the Southwest went into winter quarters. The rebels were content to remain in Springfield, though they sent scouting and foraging parties at irregular intervals to scour the country between those two points and gather whatever supplies could be obtained. The commander at Rolla also sent out similar expeditions, which were frequently accompanied by our young friends, and thus each army was fairly well informed as to what the other was doing.
The retirement of the Union forces gave the rebels great encouragement, and they pushed their recruiting through the interior country with great activity. They threatened to capture St. Louis, at least in words, and so loud were their promises that many of their sympathizers believed them.
During January, 1862, the camp at Rolla was increased by the arrival of troops from Illinois, Iowa and Kansas, and it was evident that the spring was to open with another campaign. General Samuel R. Curtis arrived and took command, transportation was cut down as much as possible, stores were accumulated and sent forward as far as the Gasconade river, a cavalry division under General Carr was pushed forward, and by degrees the country was occupied to within fifty miles of Springfield, where Price's army was known to be in force. It was ascertained that McCulloch's army had gone into a winter camp at Cross Hollows, in Arkansas, and would probably move north in the spring to join Price, or in case of a Union advance would wait where it was until Price could fall back to that position.
Among the regiments that came to Rolla was the Ninth Iowa, which contained several officers and many men of the First Iowa, which had been mustered out of service after its return from Wilson's Creek, its time having expired. Its colonel, William Vandever, was assigned to the command of a brigade, so that the control of the regiment fell to its lieutenant-colonel, F. J. Herron, who had fought at Wilson's Creek as a captain in the First Iowa.
Jack and Harry were overjoyed to see so many of their old acquaintances, and at the request of Colonel Vandever the two youths were turned over to his care. They had made such a good record in their scouting services during their stay at Rolla, that Colonel Vandever, whom we will now call general, as he was shortly afterward promoted to that rank, decided to make use of them as scouts and orderlies whenever occasion offered. They were allowed to retain their horses, of which they had taken excellent care. The animals showed much attachment to their young masters, and evidently were quite reconciled to serving under the Union flag instead of the rebel one, beneath which they were captured.
Orders to advance were impatiently waited, and at last they came. Early in February the army of General Curtis moved out of Rolla with drums beating and trumpets sounding, and every indication of a determination to push on to victory. Sixteen thousand men, in the proper proportions of infantry, artillery and cavalry, composed the force which was to carry the flag across the borders of Missouri and into the rebellious state of Arkansas.
But before we follow the army of the Southwest and make note of its fortunes, let us briefly turn our gaze elsewhere.
Careful students of the war did not fail to see that there was a systematic advance along the whole line from Virginia to Missouri during the early part of February, 1862. During the winter work on the gun-boat fleet had been vigorously pushed and many steamboats purchased or hired as transports. As fast as the ironclads were ready to move they were sent to Cairo, Illinois where the transports were assembled and vast amounts of stores had been accumulated. General Grant was in command at Cairo, and that aqueous town was a vast encampment. At the same time the army at Rolla had been strengthened, as we have already seen, and the movement of each force was practically simultaneous.
Nor was this all. From Washington the army moved into Virginia, and the checkered campaign of 1862 began. Then a fleet and an army went down the Atlantic coast and captured New-Berne, North Carolina, and farther down the coast there was an aggressive move against Charleston. Then at the mouth of the Mississippi a fleet of war ships appeared, backed by a fleet of transports carrying a land force ready to occupy and hold whatever the fleet secured. In Kentucky the Army of the Ohio occupied Bowling Green, and prepared to move upon Nashville.
The first success along the whole line of attack was when on the sixth of February the fleet under Admiral Foote bombarded Fort Henry and compelled its surrender. Then followed the attack on Fort Donelson, when General Grant “moved immediately upon the works” of General Buckner and took him a prisoner, together with all those of his garrison that could not escape. The whole North was in a blaze of excitement as the news was published in the papers, which appeared in the form of “Extras,” with a great many lines of heading to a very few lines of news. Such a sensation had not happened since the battle of Bull Run, in the previous year—and, unlike that of Bull Run, the story was one of victory and not of disaster.
The effect of the news in a city like St. Louis, whose population was divided in sentiment, was a curious study to the outsider. A man's sympathies could be known half a block away by the expression of his face and the air with which he greeted his friends. If he was for the Union his head was high in the air and his countenance showed him to be “smiling all over;” but if he sympathized with the rebellion, his steps were sad and slow and his head was downcast, as though he had lost a ten cent piece or a diamond ring, and was on the lookout to find it. There was no occasion to ask a man how he felt; the subject was too momentous to permit him to conceal his thoughts.
When the newsboys appeared with the extras they were eagerly patronized by the Union men and as eagerly repelled by the Secessionists. One boy had the temerity to enter the store of a noted Secessionist and shout in stentorian tones, “'Ere's yer extra; all about the capture of Fort Donelson!”
That boy soon had reason to believe that his presence was not desired there and his wares were unwelcome. He sold no papers in that store, and moreover he was ejected from it a moment after entering on the toe of a number ten boot. His ejectment was no trifling matter as it carried him quite to the edge of the sidewalk. He got up again, as though nothing had happened, and went on with his business as usual.
It is sad to record that there was a great deal of drinking in St. Louis over the result of Grant's movement against Donelson. The Union men drank in joy and congratulation, while the Secessionists did likewise to drown their sorrow. In Chicago and other Northern cities the drinking was more one-sided than in St. Louis, but the average to each inhabitant was not greater.
It is said that on some of the dead-walls of Chicago the day of the fall of Donelson a placard was posted to the effect that every man found sober at nine o'clock in the evening would be arrested for disloyalty. History does not record that there were any arrests in Chicago that day for disloyalty. Whether there was anybody around at that hour capable of making arrests is also without record.
Having thus taken a general survey of the field, we will return to Jack and Harry, whom we left with the Army of the Southwest.
The army moved, as before stated, and encountered no opposition as it advanced beyond the Gasconade river and occupied the town of Lebanon, sixty-five miles from Rolla. Harry called Jack's attention to the desolation that seemed to prevail along the route, compared with what the road was when they first saw it on the retreat from Wilson's Creek. Many houses had been burned, and many of those that escaped the torch were without occupants. In every instance where inquiry was made it was found that the burned or deserted house had been the property of a Union citizen who had been driven away by his rebel neighbors or by scouting parties from Price's army.
The few people that remained were almost destitute of food, and it was next to impossible to obtain feed for horses. The country had suffered terribly from the ravages of war, and was destined to suffer still further before the war ended. As long as the war lasted it was infested by roving bands of guerrillas, although the regular armies of the Confederacy had been forced much farther to the south. At first the Secessionists encouraged the presence of these guerrillas, but after a time they found their exactions so great that they would gladly have rid themselves of their so-called “friends.”
The roads were bad and the march was slow, but in spite of the bad roads and the wintry weather the army pushed forward resolutely. Jack and Harry found themselves covered with mud at the end of every day's march, and as they were frequently sent with scouting parties away from the road, their horses as well as themselves were pretty well used up when night arrived; but they came out as lively as ever the next morning, and the horses seemed to echo the words of their young masters, that they were having a good time.
On one of their scouting expeditions they stopped at a house whose owner boasted that he had built it himself and lived in it for seventeen years, and though it wasn't equal to some of the fine houses in Springfield or Lebanon, it was as good as he wanted. It was built of logs, like the ordinary frontier dwelling, and consisted of a single room, where the family of six persons lived, ate and slept. It had a door but no window, and in order to have light in the daytime it was necessary to keep the door open, no matter how cold the weather might be. Near the house was a smaller one of the same sort, and this was occupied by three negroes, the slaves of the owner of the place.
Harry found on inquiry that the man had bought these slaves from the money he had saved by selling the produce of his farm, preferring to invest in this kind of property rather than build a more comfortable house, with glass windows and other luxuries. One of the slaves was cook and housemaid, the second was the family nurse, and the third, a man about fifty years old, attended to the stable and out-door work in general. The master worked in the field with his colored property, but he said that when he had “two more niggers” he would have all his time taken up looking after them. Naturally he was in sympathy with the rebellion, and did not believe in the Yankees and Dutch coming along and setting the slaves free.
The black man watched for a chance to speak to one of the boys, and after a little maneuvering he managed to do so without being seen by his master.
“Ef you Linkum folks wants to find some rebs,” said the darkey to Harry, with a grin, “I knows whar you 'll find'em.”
“Where's that?”
“You jest go down dis yere road about a mile and you 'll find some of'em with a wagon load o' pork dey's takin' to Price's army.”
“How many rebs are there with the wagon?”
“Dere's six on'em—t'ree is on horses and t'ree in der wagon. Dey's been gettin' dat pork round yar, and hain't been gone more'n half an hour. I knows dey's going ter stop at der creek to fix one of de wheels, and you 'll find'em dar. Don't let on wher yer found'em out.”
“Of course not,” was the reply. “We 'll keep you all safe. Now clear out, and don't look at us to see which way we go.”
There were six of them in the scouting party, and they were entirely able to cope with the escort of the wagon. Harry slipped to the side of the sergeant in command and said they'd better be off, and he would then tell him why.
The sergeant then said to his men that it was time to be getting back, and gave the order for mounting. At the end of the little lane where the house stood they stopped for consultation, Harry telling what he had learned, and suggesting, that in order to divert suspicion, they had best start the other way and then suddenly turn about as though a new idea had occurred to them.
The sergeant acted under Harry's suggestion. The party went half-a-dozen rods one way and then turned about and cantered slowly down the road in the direction indicated by the negro.
“Steady, now, boys,” said the sergeant. “Don't pump your horses, but keep them fresh for a dash when we want to make it.”
So they went gently along, Harry keeping a little in advance to watch out for the wagon of which they were in search. The road rose and fell over the undulations of the ground, and when they had gone about a mile it was evident that they were coming to a depression, which was probably the bed of the creek.
Harry hugged the trees at the side of the road, so as to screen himself from sight. His horse pricked his ears and evidently scented the presence of other animals of his race.
A few more steps in advance and the wagon was in sight. It was standing close to the creek, and the men were busy adjusting one of the wheels, the three horsemen having dismounted and tied their steeds to some trees a dozen yards away.
The sergeant gave the order to advance at a walk, and if possible get between the men and their horses before the presence of an enemy was discovered. As soon as they were seen they would go in with a dash.
They were not able to carry out the plan completely, but for all practical purposes it succeeded. When the first of the rebel party saw the advancing Federals they had not time to secure their horses. The sergeant gave the order for an advance, and in the squad dashed, in fine style.
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The sergeant had told Jack to get hold of the saddle-horses the first thing, and he did so. The rest of the party surrounded the wagon. The rebels showed fight, but, taken at a disadvantage and with the carbines of the cavalrymen aimed at them, they surrendered before any blood had been spilt, but not without an exchange of shots, of which Harry received one through the sleeve of his coat.
The prisoners were secured and marched back in the direction of the road where the army was on its march. The wheel was speedily adjusted, and then Harry mounted the box of the wagon and soon made the four mules that comprised its team understand their duty. The captured horses were led behind the wagon along with Harry's horse. Without further adventure the party reached the camp, and the pork intended for Price's army found its way down the throats of General Vandever's soldiers.
It was impossible to prevent news of the advance of the Union forces being carried to General Price at Springfield. That astute commander knew that he was in no condition to cope with an army of sixteen thousand men, and so he wisely withdrew when certain that he would have to fight if he remained. He left in haste and did not take time to pack up all his correspondence, of which a considerable portion fell into the hands of the invaders.
General Curtis had hoped to surround Price in Springfield and prevent his retreat; he did surround the town on two of its four sides, but left the other two wide open, and consequently Price was able to march serenely and leisurely down the road in the direction of the Arkansas line.
General Sigel was sent along a parallel road in the hope of heading off Price, but the latter got wind of the movement and accelerated his own speed so that heading off was out of the question. Then, too, his rear was rather closely followed by General Curtis's cavalry, so that the rear-guard pressed against the column in front of it and urged the retreat. General Sigel's officers afterwards complained that they were foiled in their heading-off attempt by the vigorous pursuit of the cavalry that led the main column.
Jack and Harry were with a scouting party that visited the deserted camp of the rebels close to the town of Springfield, and were much interested in studying the buildings which had been erected for the use of the troops. They consisted of log and board structures, and were sufficiently numerous and extensive to accommodate ten thousand men, in the way troops are lodged in barracks, without any overcrowding. The log-houses were well chinked with mud and clay, and the board ones were well built and comfortable; both kinds of buildings had floorings of boards, and at one end of every house there was a chimney and a fireplace.
“In some of the camps,” said Jack afterwards, in describing the place to a friend, “the buildings seemed to have been dropped down hap-hazard, without any effort at regularity, while in other camps they were laid out into streets and lanes. Some of the streets had signs at the corners, and of course the names were sure to be those of the Confederate generals. The bunks were arranged in tiers, sometimes four or five in a tier; some of the roofs of the buildings were covered with rawhide, and we saw several chairs and sofas seated with the same material.
“We thought by the looks of the place that they must have left in a hurry. There was a dead pig lying on the ground with the knife still sticking in his throat, and close by was a sheep hanging on a peg in the side of a house, with its skin about half taken off. Dough was fresh in the pans, and there were cooking utensils in considerable number, many of them containing food wholly or partially cooked. They took away their blankets, hardly one having been left behind. The sick men who remained in camp said that there was a very short supply of blankets, and they were sure the army would suffer greatly for want of proper clothing and covering.
“I'm certain they left in a great hurry,” continued Jack, “or I would n't have this.”
As he spoke he drew from his pocket a gold watch, which he had found in a bunk in one of the houses, evidently a house where the officers of a regiment were lodged. It was a pleasing souvenir of the visit to the camp, and Jack said he hoped to carry it home to show to his friends in Iowa.
“And what did you find, Harry?” said one of the listeners, turning to the other of our young friends.
“There were no gold watches, or even a silver one, in any bunk that I examined; but I found this, which was quite likely a treasured possession of its former owner as much as was the watch to the man who left it behind for Jack to pick up. But it would n't sell for as much; in fact, I don't think it would bring any price at all in the market, as it's only a bundle of love-letters.”
Then he read some of the letters aloud, to the great amusement of the entire party. It is a fact worthy of record that anybody's love-letters are amusing, and generally silly, to all except the one person for whom they are intended and the other person who writes them.
The love element was not stronger than the devotion of the fair writers to the cause of the South. One of them urged her lover to stay with the army and fight till the last slave-stealing Yankee was put out of existence and the triumph of the Confederacy was assured. “And you won't have long to stay,” she added, “as we hear the northern people are starving, and all of them are fast getting sick of the war. They won't be able to hire any more Dutchmen to fight for them, and when they can't hire Dutchmen the war will stop and the South will be independent.
“I know I can trust you when you get among the northern women,” she says in conclusion; “and am sure you won't forget me and fall in love with one of those ill-looking, wheezing, whining, ignorant creatures. That's what Johnny Scott says all the Yankee women are like, and he's been North three or four times, you know.”
“Poor, dear, confiding girl,” said Harry. “I'm afraid Johnny Scott wanted to make her mind easy about her far-off sweetheart, and so invented this charming fiction about the northern lasses. How her eyes would be opened if she could take a run through the cities and country towns all the way from the state of Maine to the Missouri river and see the thousands and thousands of pretty faces that could be seen there.”
To judge by the passages of the letters giving the news and rumors concerning the progress of the war, it was evident that the most astounding stories of the prowess of the southern soldiers and the cowardice of the northern ones were in active circulation. The latter had been defeated over and over again, and generally ran at the first fire; sometimes they even ran before a shot was fired, and gave the enemy the victory without spilling a drop of blood.
There was an amusing juxtaposition of paragraphs, one of which said the Yankees were being driven back everywhere as fast as they could be met, and the other saying they were pushing down into the South all the time “further and further.” Evidently the writer of the letter was puzzled at this, for she says:
“I asked Colonel Jones that if we were whipping the Yanks all the time, how it was they kept coming further down South as fast as we whipped them. He said a woman could n't understand war; he could excuse my asking such a question, but if it had been a man that asked it he would have arrested him for a Yankee spy. Of course I am aware, Charles, that I don't know anything about war, and I wish you'd write me something, so that I can talk understandingly. I think I can guess it; the southern generals want to entice the Yanks down into the South, and when they get ready to kill the whole lot, none of them can get away.”
This was the explanation given on several occasions by the rebel leaders in reply to inquiries as to the reasons for certain retirements of the rebel troops. A letter from Colonel Thomas H. Price, of General Price's staff, was among the correspondence captured at Springfield. It had been left behind by the general in his hasty departure. This letter was dated at Memphis, January sixth, and contained, among other information, the following:
* * * I shall start in the morning for Richmond. I have not the least wish or curiosity to go, but Major Anderson and Colonel Hunt, of the Quartermaster and Ordnance Departments, advise to go immediately there. I tell everybody who mentions your retreat that you only moved your camp to be more convenient to forage, etc.
There were many other letters which the rebel general left behind in his flight that were of special interest to the union commanders, as they revealed the methods of recruiting and gathering provisions in the Confederate states. There was a complaint that the governor of Arkansas had placed an embargo on the shipment of pork, corn and other produce to New Orleans, on the ground that it would all be needed for feeding the Arkansas troops in the field. One man said he had bought twelve thousand pounds of pork to ship to New Orleans, and on which he expected a handsome profit, but owing to the action of the governor he was unable to sell a pound of it.
This was agreeable news to the union commanders, as it went far to insure a good supply of provisions in any movements the Army of the Southwest might make in Arkansas. Various letters gave the strength of the rebel forces at different points, and altogether a good deal of information was obtained from the captured correspondence.
The rebels had established a foundry and armory at Springfield. In the former they were casting shot and shell for the use of the artillerymen, and in the latter small arms were being repaired and cartridges made for the infantry, while swords were fashioned and put in serviceable condition for the cavalry.
Several buildings were filled with provisions, one large one being quite untouched. The reason why the torch was not applied to these storehouses and their contents will be seen later on.