WHEN I had delivered my orders, and just as I was returning to General Vandever,†continues Harry, “the rebels made a charge upon our battery and the infantry that supported it. This was about noon, or perhaps a little later; I can't say exactly, as I was too much excited to make a note of the time.
“It was n't a bayonet charge that they made, because they had no bayonets to charge with. They charged with double-barreled shotguns, loaded with ball and buckshot, and to judge by the result, the shotgun in this way is a formidable weapon. They reserved their fire until they were pretty close to our lines; then they delivered it at short range and without taking any particular aim, relying on the scattering of the balls and buckshot to give a deadly effect to the assault. They were met with well-delivered volleys from our rifles and driven back, and they left the ground strewed with their dead and wounded.
“Again they charged, after resting a little while, and again they met with the same reception; but they managed to force us back a little. Then there was another lull, but only a short one, and suddenly the shot and shell rained along the whole length of our line. General Dodge was forced back, and so was General Vandever. Many of our officers fell and were carried to the hospitals in the rear, and many of our brave soldiers were stretched on the ground. There was a melancholy satisfaction in knowing that the enemy was losing heavily, but with his advantage in numbers he could keep up the fight, if only his ammunition held out, long after our whole force would be used up. General Carr sent several times for reinforcements, but there were none to be sent to him. General Curtis told him to 'persevere,' and so he did, and, fighting whenever the enemy advanced, he continued all through the afternoon.
219m
“'I must have three regiments and two batteries, before sunset and darkness,' said the general, 'or I cannot hold on.'â€
Just before one of the charges which the rebels made near Elkhorn Tavern, General Vandever sent Jack with an order to Colonel Herron. On came the rebels, and down went Jack's horse with a bullet through his neck; another bullet grazed Jack's side, but only scratched the skin, after tearing a great hole in his coat. At the same time Colonel Herron's horse fell dead, a cannon-shot having gone clear through him, and in the fall the colonel was severely hurt; a musket-ball struck his leg, and between the fall and the wound he was unable to stand. Jack rushed to his side to raise him, and as he did so the rebels closed around them.
“Surrender!†said a tall fellow in a butternut coat and trousers, as he flourished a shotgun and pointed it at Colonel Herron.
“There's nothing else to be done,†replied the colonel. “But you'll have to help me to go along with you; I don't believe I can walk.â€
“I 'll show you how to walk,†exclaimed the fellow. What he proposed to do will be forever unknown, as just then an officer came up and received the colonel's surrender. He ordered two men to assist him to the rear, and then went on to look after the fighting that was raging in front.
Jack's presence had not been specially observed, as both soldier and officer had been attracted to the advantage of securing the captured colonel. Jack was meditating on the possibility of slipping through the lines somehow and getting to his friends, when he thought of the wounded colonel and the possibility of assisting him.
“It 'll be a hard time for Colonel Herron, wounded and a prisoner,†said Jack to himself, “and it 'll be mighty risky for me to try to run back through the lines. I might be shot by my own friends, and that I should n't like.â€
Whether he meant by this that he had no objections to being shot by the enemy we will not undertake to say, but certain it is that he was not unlike others in being specially averse to being shot by mistake. One of the bitterest reflections that has ever been made by the southern people on the death of Stonewall Jackson is, that he was killed by his own men, who mistook him and his escort for a scouting party of the enemy.
Jack had hastily made up his mind to stay by the colonel, when he was rudely taken in charge by one of the rebel soldiers and ordered to march along with him. He asked to be allowed to remain with Colonel Herron. At first the request was refused, but on the latter giving his parole not to attempt to escape, and vouching that Jack would do the same, he was permitted to accompany the officer to whom he was so much attached.
They were sent to the rear, but for some minutes were not out of danger, as the cannon-shot from their own lines were crashing through the trees or plowing up the ground in their vicinity. A limb cut from a tree by one of these shots fell close to Jack, and some of the twigs brushed him in their descent; had the limb fallen upon him the result might have been serious. Not six feet from where he was standing at one time a falling branch killed a Confederate soldier and severely wounded two or three others. A company of cavalry was completely broken up by an exploding shell, the horses taking alarm and becoming utterly uncontrollable. In spite of the efforts of their riders to restrain them they ran away, and the men were violently thrown to the ground or brushed off among the trees.
We may remark here that owing to the wooded nature of the ground where the battle of Pea Ridge was fought, the cavalry on both sides were of comparatively little use. Among the brushwood and trees that spread over that region it was impossible to preserve the formation of the lines sufficiently to make a charge with any effect, except in a very few instances. Then, too, where the artillery was firing, the crashing of the shot and shell among the trees and the falling of the limbs frightened the horses, as we have just seen, and rendered them worse than useless. The cavalry was unable to accomplish anything of consequence, through no fault of the men, but owing to the nature of the country, and in several instances the runaway horses demoralized the infantry by dashing through the lines at inopportune moments.
The history of warfare in all ages abounds in accounts of panic created by runaway animals on the battlefield. Frightened elephants and horses caused the loss of battles by the Greeks, Romans and other warriors of antiquity, long before the invention of gunpowder. Since its discovery and use the instances of its panic-producing qualities are numerous. So much is this the case that the elephant among the Eastern nations has been almost entirely discarded on the battlefield, and is now only used in war for the more prosaic purposes of a beast of burden. With the increased range of artillery and small-arms in the past forty years the horse is gradually diminishing in importance as a fighting animal, and cavalry is chiefly useful nowadays for scouting purposes and for pursuing a demoralized enemy in retreat.
We will leave the two captives in the hands of their captors and return to Harry, whom we left with General Vandever.
The Ninth Iowa was getting out of ammunition, and the general sent Harry to order up a fresh supply. Away he rode to the rear, where the ammunition-wagons were stationed, and very quickly hunted up the one that he wanted and sent it forward. He not only sent but accompanied it, partly in order to show the road and partly to make sure that the driver did not turn aside on the way and seek a place of greater safety than where the shot and shell were falling. The driver was a brave fellow, however, and energetically lashed his team to keep up with the galloping youth in front of him.
By the time they reached the fighting line the regiment had again fallen back, leaving Elkhorn Tavern in the hands of the enemy. Not only did Harry bring the ammunition, which was speedily distributed, but he brought a message from General Curtis to General Carr that he was about to be reinforced.
“General Asboth has just returned from pursuing the rebels on the left,†said Harry, “and is coming with two regiments and a battery to support you.â€
The word ran along the line like wildfire, and the men cheered heartily. Again the rebels came on in great force, and again they were met by a withering fire, and also by a bayonet charge by the infantry of both brigades of Carr's division.
But the rebels were as brave as the men they were facing, and before the reinforcements could reach the sorely-pressed division there was another charge, which forced the union line back across a series of open fields to the edge of a wood, which gave it the same sort of shelter the rebels had enjoyed during the greater part of the day. The union forces had the advantage now, as the enemy was obliged to make its charges across the fields, which could be raked with the artillery and small-arms with destructive effect.
“We've got'em now,†said General Vandever, turning to one of his officers; “and here we'll stick till night comes to stop the fighting. Sunset will come in an hour, and we can easily hold the position till then.â€
His prediction was verified. The only attack made by the rebels on the last position was easily repulsed, and then the sun dipped below the horizon and the battle was over for the day.
The hostile forces lay within a thousand feet or so of each other all through the night, neither party daring to light a fire anywhere along its front, for fear of revealing its whereabouts. The air was still, and conversation was carried on in whispers, for fear of scouts creeping close up to the lines and overhearing what was said. The weary men lay down where they were, and sought the sleep they so much needed after the long day's fighting. As for the generals and other officers few of them closed an eye during the long night, as they were occupied with plans and preparations for the morrow.
In all the camp there was no one more active than our young friend Harry. He sadly missed the companionship of Jack, but having learned from a prisoner taken in the last charge and repulse of the rebels that his friend was uninjured and with Colonel Herron, he rejoiced, on the whole, at the situation. “He 'll be useful to the colonel, and perhaps it's all for the best that he's a prisoner just now,†was his soliloquy as he turned to General Vandever and asked if he had any orders.
“Yes,†answered the general. “Go to camp and order up some coffee, bread and meat for the men, and send along their blankets and overcoats. We'll stay right here through the night, and be ready for what comes in the morning.â€
Away went Harry with the order. When he reached the camp he found the order had been anticipated, as the camp-guard and wagon-drivers had a good supper ready, as good as the army rations afforded, and in less than fifteen minutes it was loaded into wagons, where the overcoats and blankets already were piled, and dispatched to the front.
You've done well,†said the general. “Now go and lie down somewhere and get all the sleep you can, as you 'll have enough to do to-morrow.â€
Harry touched his cap in acknowledgment of the command and then jogged back to camp, which was not more than a mile to the rear. Learning that it was possible to get to the bank of the creek without danger, he rode down there and watered his horse. The animal drank long and eagerly, as he had not had a drop of water through the long and active day. Then he returned to the camp, and fastening the animal to a wagon-wheel, having first filled his nose-bag with grain, he lay down beneath the wagon and tried to sleep.
But he slept very little, probably not thirty minutes altogether. Everything was in commotion around the camp. Ambulances were coming and going to bring in the wounded men; the doctors were busy with their suffering patients; men were sitting or standing in little groups, deeply engaged in speculating on the probable events of the morrow; mounted men were moving about with orders or messages or seeking missing officers or soldiers, and probably not one person in twenty thought of sleep. In the whole position occupied by the army during that night it is probable that the most quiet spot was where the division of General Carr had bivouacked in front of the enemy, for there, at any rate, they slept undisturbed.
At the beginning of the battle in the morning all the teams had been harnessed, to be ready to move the wagons whenever wanted. The mules had not been fed for forty-eight hours, nor had they received a drop of water for half that time. The voice of a mule at its best is not melodious, and when to the ordinary sound of his bray is added a plaintive wail of suffering it falls distressingly on the ear. Lower and lower grew the note till it fell to a moan that was well calculated to banish sleep from any one not entirely worn out with exertion. So thought Harry, and after several vain endeavors he rose to his feet and joined one of the groups of soldiers and drivers who were discussing the situation.
During the evening the lines of the army were drawn in on the left and preparations were made to bring the forces of Sigel and Davis, who had suffered but slightly during the day, to the relief of the worn out division of General Carr. The concentration was completed by midnight: General Davis's division was placed on the left, General Carr's in the center, and the two divisions of General Sigel held the right of our line. Thus arranged, the brunt of the fighting would be concentrated on Sigel's command in case the rebels remained in the positions where they were at nightfall. In case they had changed during the night, it would enable General Carr to be quickly re-enforced if the odds against him should be as heavy as they were on the day before.
Harry rode out to the front again a little before daylight, and as he passed along the road he heard the sound of vocal music rolling up from the German regiments that composed the greater part of General Sigel's command. He was unacquainted with German, and so the words of the song were unknown to him, but the music under the circumstances sounded strangely. “And yet,†he remarked to himself, “it seems to me that I've read of something of the kind somewhere else.
“Now I remember,†said he, suddenly, as he straightened in his saddle; “it was in the Crimean war, the night before the storming of the Malakofï and Redan and the capture of Sebastopol. I recall it all now; the whole British army in the trenches sang the words of a Scottish air, with which all were familiar, and the story has been told in verse by Bayard Taylor. Here are some of his lines:
“'They sang of love, and not of fame,Forgot was Britain's glory.Each heart recalled a different nameBut all sang Annie Laurie.“'Voice after voice caught up the song,Until its tender passionRose like an anthem rich and strong,Their battle eve's confession.“'Dear girl, the name he dared not speakYet as the song grew louder,Something upon the soldier's cheekWashed off the stain of powder.“'And Irish Nora's eyes are dimFor a singer dumb and gory;And English Mary mourns for himWho sang of Annie Laurie.“'Sleep, soldiers, in your honored rest,Your truth and valor bearing;The bravest are the tenderest,The loving are the daring.'
“Perhaps that's a love song the Germans are singing,†thought Harry, as he paused in repeating the lines of the verses given above, “and they are acting over again the scene of the attack on Sebastopol. I hope the battle will turn out as well for us as did that one for the allied army of the English and French.â€
Daybreak came and then sunrise. Harry had hoped for a clear morning, but his hopes were doomed to disappointment. During the previous day the smoke had frequently hung thickly over the field, at times rendering the combatants invisible to each other and greatly hindering the movements on both sides. All through that cool and almost frosty night the smoke hung low over the ground, and as the sun rose on the morning of the eighth of March it pierced through a cloud that seemed more like fog than any thing else, and was first visible as a dull ball of copper, on which the youth could easily fix his eyes without blinking. The sun showed itself only a short time and then the sky became overcast, and for a while it looked as though the day might be rainy.
We will now listen to Harry's account of the last day's fighting.
“I thought they would begin at daylight, and so did everybody else; or at any rate, everybody was ready on our side for the opening of the battle. But though we could see the rebels in strong force right in front of us, and evidently as ready as we were, there was hardly a shot fired, except by the skirmishers, until after eight o'clock. They left the opening of the day's work to us, and we did n't go about it till we were 'good and ready.'
“General Curtis intended the heaviest of the fighting for General Sigel's two divisions, as they had suffered least on the day before. The rebels had been busy during the night, and planted some of their batteries on a hill perhaps a hundred feet high, which sloped away to the north, but was quite steep on the face toward us. It was very much such a position as we had at Sugar Creek, where the enemy wisely chose not to attack. Now we had no choice but to attack them, and they were prepared for a vigorous defense, as they had large masses of supporting infantry at the base of the hill on both sides, and also several pieces of artillery scattered among the infantry.
“Under cover of the woods at the edge of the corn-field which lay between us and the enemy, General Sigel planted his batteries and drew up his infantry and cavalry where they could give efficient support. We wondered why the rebels did not open fire upon him while he was getting ready, but we learned afterward that they felt confident of defeating him when the actual fighting should begin, and besides they were short of artillery ammunition and wanted to make every shot tell. They argued that if they opened fire the guns would be withdrawn and they would be compelled to leave the place, where they had so much advantage of position, and follow us wherever we drew them.
“I stood where I could see pretty much all that was going on there, and it was certainly a wonderful picture. The white and withered stalks of the corn in the field contrasted sharply with the dark-blue coats of our men when they advanced from the edge of the wood to the open ground, and, luckily for us, the smoke blew away a little before eight o' clock and gave us a clear view across the field. We could easily make out the rebel lines and the positions of the cannon that were ready to open upon us. Our cannoneers stood to their guns and waited the command to open fire; the rebel artillery-men were evidently doing the same thing, and on both sides the infantry were prepared for whatever was demanded of it.
“General Sigel gave the order, and a dozen cannon fired very quickly, one after the other. Each gunner took sight against a tree on the hill where the rebel batteries were stationed, and tried the effect of his shot upon it. The first shots were too high, and a turn of the elevating-screw depressed the muzzle of the gun. The second shot was generally too high, though with some it proved just right; but with nearly every gun the third shot was exactly the proper range. Then the aim was taken at the rebel guns that were just beginning to fire, and for nearly two hours there was an artillery duel, in which the infantry had little to do but to look on.
“Through their glasses the officers could see that our fire was having terrible effect. Several of the rebel cannon were disabled and sent to the rear. Several of our guns were disabled and retired, and their places promptly filled by others; but somehow the enemy did not seem to have a reserve to draw upon. Their fire slackened, their infantry seemed to be melting away, and through the smoke several of their men ran across to our lines and surrendered.
“This confirmed what had already been reported through our camp, that General McCulloch had been killed, and also General McIntosh, one of their best officers, and formerly of the regular army. They said they had been entirely confident of capturing all of us, but the death of these generals had disheartened a good many of the men; and they were very short of provisions and ammunition.
“We had thirty pieces of artillery playing on the rebels at one time. They could not respond with so many, and as their artillery fire slackened General Sigel suddenly ordered some of the guns to change their fire into the ranks of the infantry and cavalry that were waiting on the enemy's flanks ready to charge us when ordered.
“The shell, grape and canister tore great swaths in the crowded ranks and piled up windrows of dead and wounded. No troops except the most stolid Asiatics could stand such a fire as that. The cavalry and infantry melted away, and the artillery was without support.
“A battery of three guns on an open space at one side of the hill, and near the road, became troublesome, and the fire of one of our batteries was turned upon it. Then, as the return fire slackened, the wind blew away the smoke and revealed its exact position.
“'Send a regiment to take that battery,' said General Sigel to one of his staff.
“The honor was given to the Twelfth Missouri, and as soon as the order was received away they dashed for their work. Across the field they went at full charge, losing twelve men killed outright and more than twice that number wounded, but not once did they halt. When the rebels saw them coming they rallied several companies of infantry to the support of the battery, but too late to save it. The charge was successful and the guns were ours.â€
While Sigel's batteries had been pouring their iron hail upon the hill which formed the center of the rebel position the divisions of Carr and Davis had slowly advanced till they occupied the woods where the rebels were posted when the fight began. I should have said our guns stopped two or three times, partly to allow them to cool and partly to carry them forward to a closer range. The melting away of the rebel lines was the last act of the battle. The order to retire was given, and before noon the fighting was over.
“General Sigel's command went in pursuit, while the rest of the army remained on the field. The chase was kept up for twelve miles and then given up, as the rebels had a fair road before them and could push on without danger, while we had to be constantly on the lookout for ambuscades. General Sigel captured a good many wagons with supplies and some ammunition, and his men picked up about a thousand stand of arms which the fleeing rebels had thrown away. They were of very little use, as they were mostly shotguns and squirrel-rifles. The best among them were picked out by the officers, to send home as trophies of the campaign and in memory of the battle we had won.
“As soon as it was certain that the rebels had gone and the field was ours we set about looking after the wounded.
“General Vandever went to the hill where the rebel batteries had been posted in the morning, and took me along with him. Such a sight as I saw there I hope never to see again.
“The ground was covered with dead and wounded men, the most of them dead, as they were struck down by shot and shell or by grape and canister. Some were killed by the falling limbs of trees, and one man was crushed by the weight of a limb five or six inches in diameter that had fallen directly upon his shoulders and pressed him to the ground. One tree had been pierced through from side to side by a solid shot; its top was shivered by a shell, and its trunk was pierced by a dozen or more canister-balls. Here lay the fragments of a battery-wagon that had been blown up, and not far off were five artillery wheels. Three mules lay dead by the side of the broken wagons, and one of them was so torn by the explosion that little more than the general shape of the animal remained.
“In a space thirty feet square I counted seven dead men and three wounded ones, one of the latter just gasping his last. A little further on there were fifteen wounded rebels, all begging and imploring for water. I gave them all my canteen contained, and so did the rest of the party, and the general sent me off for more. As I turned my horse to ride away he jumped aside to avoid stepping on a prostrate man whose arm had been torn off by a cannon-shot, and as he jumped he almost trod on another whose leg had been shattered. Close by a tree was a dead man whose head had been blown off by a shell, and by his side was another dead man whose breast was pierced by a grapeshot. A letter had fallen from his pocket, and I sprang to the ground and picked it up, intending to read it later.
“The letter was addressed to Pleasant J. Williams, Churchill's regiment, Fayetteville, Ark.; it was from a girl in Kentucky, to whom Williams was evidently engaged, if I may judge by the tenor of the document. I shall keep it in the hope of some day being able to return it to the writer. She was an ardent rebel, but evidently a very sweet and loving young woman, though, unfortunately, she does not inclose her photograph.
“I went for the water as fast as I could, and wondered how I was to bring it, as I had but a single canteen. On the way I passed through the camp, and when I told a captain of the Third Illinois cavalry the object of my mission, he detailed four men to go with me, and told them to gather up a dozen canteens to carry water to the wounded men. Tired as the men and their horses were, the soldiers went eagerly on their errand of mercy, and it almost made me cry to see how tenderly they cared for the poor fellows who were so lately their enemies. Curious thing, this business of making war! Soldiers try their very best to kill each other, but when the fighting is over they do all they can to help the very men they shot down only a little while before.
“Before I got back to the hill where the wounded men were lying a rebel surgeon had arrived with a flag of truce, and was doing all he could for the sufferers. But several were so badly hurt that they could n't be saved, and one of them died within two minutes after swallowing a draught of water I gave him.
“A horrible thing happened here close to this hill. The bursting of shells, or some burning wads, had set fire to the dry leaves that covered the ground, and the woods were burning in every direction. We tried to remove the wounded before the fire reached them, and thought we had got them all away; afterward some were found in secluded spots, and though still alive, they had been terribly burned and blackened by the fire among the leaves and fallen brushwood. One poor fellow had crawled close to a dry log that was set on fire by the burning leaves, and was so badly burned that he died soon after being found. The doctors said his wounds were so severe that it is doubtful if he could have lived even if the fire had not reached him.
235m
“We had repeatedly heard that the rebels were very badly supplied with shoes, and there was proof of the truth of this statement in the way they stripped the shoes from the feet of dead and mortally-wounded men, no matter to which side they belonged. Not one corpse in twenty of all that I saw on the battlefield had shoes on its feet. In some cases pantaloons and coats were removed, but such instances were not numerous, the great need of the rebels seeming to be in the line of shoes. Of course, the clothing of our soldiers would hardly be desired by the rebels, as it would be dangerous for them to wear, and they have no ready means of changing its color.
“The general told me to look for him at Elkhorn Tavern as soon as I had carried out the order about taking water to the wounded rebels, and I did so. On the way I passed the spot where a captain of a rebel battery was killed near the close of the battle, his head having been carried away by one of our cannon-shot. They said his name was Churchill Clark, and that he was the son of a prominent politician well known in the state of Missouri. Young Clark was educated at the military academy at West Point, and was said to be a splendid officer. He turned against the government the advantages of the education he had received at its expense. He was carried away by the idea that the right of the state was paramount to the right of the nation, and this is the end of states-rights for him—killed in battle at Pea Ridge.
“But if the battlefield was horrible, the scene at Elkhorn was worse. Dead and wounded men were lying all about, the house was filled with wounded, and every few minutes a corpse was brought out to make room for a man whom the surgeons hoped to save. Blood was everywhere, and the sight was a sickening one. All the medical men were busy as they could be, and with the hardest work they were not able to give much attention to each individual case.
“The next morning the general sent me to Elkhorn with a message to one of the surgeons. Outside of the building was a row of corpses of officers and men mingled indiscriminately, most of them having died during the night from the effect of their wounds or after amputation of limbs. Several legs and arms that had been cut off were lying on the ground, some of the legs having the stocking and perhaps a portion of the pantaloons still in place.
“The attendants were busy removing the corpses and carrying them to a place of burial. Each was covered with a blanket, and officers and men were moving among them, raising the blanket coverings one after the other, in order to find some missing individual. 'That's Captain ———,' said one of the officers, as he turned down a blanket and revealed a face and the double-barred shoulder-straps which indicated the rank of the wearer. 'That's private ————, of Co. B,' or 'that's Sergeant———, of-regiment,' were the remarks of the attendants as they went steadily on with their work. Here sat a soldier who was crying bitterly, as he had just discovered the body of his brother among the dead. The surgeons and their aids gave him no attention; in fact, they were quite regardless of anything except the wounded whom they were trying to save.
“Details were sent out to look carefully over the ground where the battle was fought, in order to bring in the wounded and bury the dead. The work of humanity was rapidly performed, and before night all the dead had been laid to their rest, and all the wounded, except a few who were not discovered until afterwards, were relieved as far as possible. The dead, where they lay thickly, were buried in trenches containing ten and in some cases twelve or fifteen corpses, but in most cases they were buried singly or by two's and three's. Most of those who fell at Pea Ridge found their graves where they lay, and there they will sleep undisturbed through all the rest of this war that is convulsing the country and threatening the existence of a nation which was founded as the home of universal liberty.
“From the hospital I carried a message to Colonel Bussey, of the Third Iowa Cavalry, who had returned from pursuing the rebels as far as Bentonville, and was just then in that part of the field where his regiment made a charge upon the combined white and Indian troops of General Pike, and was repulsed with the loss of several men. It afterward, as I have said elsewhere, rallied and defeated the rebels, recapturing three guns of a battery which had been temporarily lost.
“The rebels may deny as much as they please that the Indians scalped their fallen foes, but here was the evidence that they did it. Eight men of Colonel Bussey's cavalry were killed in the charge, and the Indians occupied the ground immediately and took off the scalps of those eight men and otherwise mutilated their bodies. Some of the bodies indicated that the men were only wounded and not dead when the Indians came into possession of them by the repulse of the cavalry, but the scoundrels quickly dispatched them with the tomahawk. Marks of the tomahawk, or some weapon like it, were plainly visible on several bodies, and the surgeons who examined the gunshot wounds on some of the bodies declared that they were not sufficient to cause death.
“Colonel Bussey and several of his officers and men have made oath to the evidences of the use of the tomahawk and scalping-knife by the Indian allies of the rebels, and the documents will be placed on record. It is probable that more than this number were scalped, as several bodies were buried before an investigation was thought of, but about these eight there can be no mistake. We hope the rebels are proud of these murderous savages, who may yet turn upon them in their frenzy when least expected to do so. A few of the Indians were captured, and if our men had not been restrained by their officers they would have hanged or shot the rascals. General Curtis has allowed all the rebel surgeons to come and go freely under parole, with the exception of the surgeon of an Indian regiment; him the general is keeping a close prisoner, and will send under guard to St. Louis.â€
The rebels disappeared so suddenly from the battlefield that the union commanders could not make out where they had gone. General Sigel went after them in one direction and Colonel Bussey in another, but could not overtake them, and the pursuit was soon given up. It seems they turned off through several hollows and ravines, taking obscure roads, and finally reuniting in the neighborhood of Bentonville, where they camped for the night. A good many of them continued along the road without halting, determined to get a safe distance between themselves and the terrible Yankees. Previous to the battle the officers had spread the most startling stories about northern atrocities to prisoners, with the object of nerving the men up to a high pitch of courage.
On this subject let us listen to Jack, whom we left in the hands of the enemy, and who was carried away by them in their retreat.
“The night after they captured the colonel, and took me along with him,†said Jack, “we had a hard old time of it. We had very little to eat, and nothing but our clothes to sleep in. We were no worse off than the officers and men around us, as there were a good many of them that had n't any blankets, and nearly all were ragged and fearfully out at the elbows. Each man had for his rations a piece of corn-bread as dry as a stone and nearly as hard, and some of them had nothing more than an ear or two of corn, that they chewed on as though they were horses. One of the doctors dressed Colonel Herron's wounded leg. He could n't stand on it, and when he wanted to move around I helped him on one side and one of the hospital attendants on the other. They put him in an ambulance along with one of their own wounded officers and started us off on the road to Bentonville, and there we stayed through the night. Probably they would have sent us further if they'd known how the next day's battle was coming out.
“They were going to send me off with the soldiers, but Colonel Herron asked to be permitted to keep me as a personal attendant. He offered to give his parole and become responsible that I would not escape, the same as he had done when we were first captured, and this they accepted after a little palaver. At one time I thought they wouldn't do it, and began to think I'd have to trudge along the road with the soldiers. And I think I owe my good fortune to an old friend; at least I 'll call him so, as he acted like a friend, though he had no reason to remember me kindly.
“You remember the captain we helped to capture near Rolla when we went on our scouting expedition on foot?â€
“Certainly,†replied Harry; “I remember him well.â€
“He was the man that befriended me,†said Jack, “and he did it just at the right time, too. He was one of the officers that was debating whether to do as the colonel wanted, and let me go with him, and while they were talking a little way off from us he kept eying me all over. After a while he came up to me and said:
“'Are you one of the boys that was out one day on the road from Rolla to Pilot Knob, and found out where a captain had a recruiting camp?'
“I turned all sorts of colors, I know, and while I was trying to stammer out something to convince him I was n't the boy he was looking for he nodded his head in a satisfied sort of way.
“I thought my case was done for and he'd have me shot sure, but he only laughed and said I was made of good stuff and had 'got the sand,' whatever that was. Then he went back and talked with the others, and after a few minutes he came to me and said he would be responsible for me.
“My heart went down in my boots at this, but he did n't let it stay there long. 'You're all right,' said he, 'and you may go with your colonel. But, first, you must give me your solemn word of honor that you won't try to escape as long as you are allowed to be with him.'
“I gave my word of honor and signed a parole which he wrote out, and then he said he thought he could trust me. 'You caught me once,' said he, 'but you weren't under any parole, and I had no business to talk with you as I did. You boys did a smart thing, and just the kind of thing I believe in, and as long as you're in my hands I 'll look out for you. And I 'll look out for you, too,' he added, dropping his voice, 'if you try any Yankee tricks on me now that you're under parole.'
“I repeated my promise, and felt relieved at the way he acted toward me. Then he hurried a man off and got something for us to eat. It was n't much, only a slice of corn-bread and a piece of bacon for me, and a tin cupful of tea and some more bacon and bread for the colonel. He told me to stay by the ambulance, where the colonel was, and said I could ride with the driver, except 'when they were going up-hill, where I must get off and walk'.â€
To judge by the number of times I had to get off and walk,†continued Jack, “it was up-hill pretty nearly all the way to Fayetteville. A wounded major of the rebel army was put in the ambulance alongside of Colonel Herron, and when we got to Fayetteville I had to give up my place to a rebel captain who had been shot in the arm. Of course I couldn't complain at this, and thought myself lucky to have been allowed to ride so far as I did ride. I had to walk the rest of the way, and though I was young and strong, it was impossible for me to keep up with the ambulance when they had a good road. But as most of the road was bad and a good deal blocked by wagons, I managed to be along with the ambulance every night and two or three times generally during the day. It was lucky for me that the ambulance horses were pretty well tired out with overwork and poor feed, and at one time the driver was afraid he would n't be able to get them through to Van Buren, where we had been ordered to go.
“There were six men on horseback who rode along with the ambulance, to make sure that we did n't get away. Our captors were evidently mindful of the old motto, 'Fast bind, fast find,' and they had us not only on our parole, but under guard. When it was found that I had to walk I was put with half-a-dozen other prisoners in charge of two of the mounted men. They were rather surly at first, but after a while we got on good terms with them by helping them to pick up forage for their horses, of which they were in great need. There was n't much to be picked up, as the country had been pretty thoroughly cleaned out by the army in its advance to attack us, and in the previous retreat when we first came into the state.
“The road over the Boston mountains is a rough one, and the wagons could n't get along there any faster than men on foot; they had to go slow to avoid breaking axles and smashing wheels, and all along the road there were dozens of wagons that had broken down and been abandoned. Soon after we left Fayetteville the news came that the army had been defeated and was falling back, but this was treated as a rumor at first, and our rebel guards laughed at it as absurd. A few hours later some mounted men came along carrying dispatches to Fort Smith, and then we heard positively that our side had won and the rebels were really falling back.
“I wanted to raise a cheer, but thought it would not be wise to do so, as our guards might make it harder for us if we made any sort of a demonstration. I passed the word among the rest, and we agreed to pretend that it could n't be so, as our army was so much smaller than theirs and we had used up nearly all our ammunition at the time we were captured. We consoled ourselves with the reflection that we should probably be exchanged before long, as we ought to have prisoners enough in our hands to make an even trade.
“We camped as soon as night came on, and I had no trouble in finding the colonel's ambulance and giving him all the help and comfort that I could. His wounded leg pained him a good deal, and the rebel surgeon said it would be better if it could be bathed in cold water.
“I went at work at once and bathed the swollen part so that it visibly went down, and the pain was much less. I was at it for a full hour, and then the colonel made me lie down and sleep, as he would n't hear of my being up all night. I slept as sound as a log, but was up before daylight to give the leg another bath before we started. My friend, the rebel captain, came around while I was at work and said I seemed so handy that he reckoned they would keep me as a hospital attendant, and not send me back in exchange if they made any. I told him I did n't want to go back until the colonel did, and I was perfectly willing to be a hospital attendant as long as I could be with him.
“All along the road there was great curiosity to look at the Yankee prisoners and see what they were like. By the way some of the people stared at us, they must have expected to see some horrid monsters, and were really surprised to find that we were human beings. Some of them abused us, and others looked on in silence, as they might have looked at an elephant or a five-legged calf. At one house, where we stopped to get a drink of water, a woman came out and lashed her tongue in a fit of rage at the 'Yankee cut-throats,' as she called us. She hoped we would all be hanged as soon as we got to Fort Smith, and if she had her way we should be strung up then and there.
“Poor creature! I did not blame her so much, as she had been told the most awful stories of what the Yankees did wherever they got possession of the country. All the atrocities ever committed by savages were attributed to us, together with some that no savages ever thought of. One of our guards told us that he had heard of our putting fifty prisoners in a log-house, having bound them hand and foot, and piled them up as though they had been so many sticks of wood. Then we piled shavings and straw on them till the house was filled with it, and after this was done we set the straw on fire. The house and all the prisoners were consumed, as a matter of course. In another case we tied prisoners to trees and used them as targets for our infantry soldiers to practice upon when learning how to handle fire-arms.
“Of course the leaders knew better than this, but the stories were intended for the ignorant masses of the people, to excite them to rush to the defense of the imperiled South and save their homes from the desecration and destruction that they said would be certain if the Yankees once obtained possession of the country. But in one way they were 'hoist by their own petard,' to use an old phrase, as the fear of what might happen to them in case of capture caused many of the rebel soldiers at Pea Ridge to run away rather than face the terrible Yankees. From what the soldiers said, I'm certain that this is what caused several regiments to break and run after they had fired only a few rounds from their shotguns and squirrel-rifles.
“If this were a place for moralizing, I would say that lying never pays, whether by wholesale or retail. The rebel leaders in Arkansas found it out before the end of the second year of the war.
“We got to Van Buren, on the north bank of the Arkansas river, three days after leaving Bentonville, and were pretty well used up by the time they brought us to a halt. The colonel was sent to the military hospital, which was in some wooden barracks just outside the town, and I was allowed to go with him as his personal attendant, on the same conditions as before. I ought to say that on the closing day of the journey I got my old place on the seat by the driver for the last five or six hours, the wounded captain having stopped in a house where he had friends who would take care of him until his arm was well enough to allow him to return to his regiment.
“There was plenty of room in the hospital when we got there, but the wounded came in fast, and within two days it was crowded full. I made myself as useful as I could, and soon got into the good graces of the surgeons, by helping them to dress wounds and do anything else that came in my way. I was about the hospital during the day, and could come and go as I liked, only I was under parole not to go outside the building and the one adjoining it. At night I slept in a sort of a guard-room at one end of the building, but there was n't much of a guard there, and I might have run away without any trouble if it had not been for my parole not to do so. It is just possible, however, that I was watched in a way I was not aware of, and my old friend may have 'looked out for me,' as he promised to do.
“The army followed closely after us, and there was no doubt of the defeat and retreat of the rebels. The soldiers were very much disappointed and disheartened, and if they could have got away without rendering themselves liable to be shot for desertion, I'm sure that half of them would have gone within two days after they got back to camp. As it was, there was a great deal of straggling, and I heard an officer say they had lost not less than five thousand men in one way and another by the campaign to Pea Ridge and back again.
“By the fourteenth the whole army, such of it as held together, had come in and was encamped around Van Buren. Some of the regiments were ferried over the river to Fort Smith, but the most of the troops remained on the north bank. I did n't have much chance to see them, as I was kept in the limits of the hospital, but so far as I could observe they were a forlorn-looking lot.
“Only a few regiments wore the gray uniforms of the Confederacy, the greater number of the men being clad in the ordinary home-spun cloth of the country familiarly known as 'butternut.' During the Pea Ridge campaign they had been very poorly fed—some of them going for thirty or forty hours during the retreat without a morsel of food other than a few grains of corn; raw turnips and carrots had been considered a luxury, and the men who secured them were envied. Raw cabbages were eagerly devoured, but unfortunately the country was not stocked with these products of the soil, or the troops might have been better fed.â€