CHAPTER XVI. HINTS FOR CAMPAIGNING—IN A REBEL'S HOUSE—SNUFF-DIPPING.
After they had walked four or five miles the youths began to feel hungry, and at Jack's suggestion they stopped for breakfast at the side of a little brook, which could supply them with that very important ingredient of a traveler's meal, water. Not only did they drink from the brook while devouring the hard biscuit and boiled beef they had brought along, but they bathed their feet in the stream, and carefully dried them before putting on their shoes and stockings.
Very early in their campaigning they had learned the lesson of caring for their feet. An old soldier said to them before they left Booneville:
“Make it a rule to bathe your feet whenever you have a chance, and always dry them carefully before covering them again. Of course there will be times when you must put on wet shoes and stockings and travel in them for miles and miles, but never do it if you can help it. Wet feet cause blisters, rheumatism and all sorts of trouble, and many a man has broken down on a march because his feet were not properly cared for.”
“I should think the officers would look out for their men's feet,” said Jack, when the soldier made the above suggestion.
“So anybody would think, very naturally,” was the reply; “but the fact is, a good many of the officers do nothing of the kind. They are either above that sort of thing or else they give general directions to the men, and then let them take care of themselves. A good infantry captain will see to it that his men take care of their feet, just as a good cavalry captain looks out for the shoeing of his horses and tries every way he can to keep them from getting sore backs.
“And remember another thing,” he continued; “at night always take off your boots or shoes, and sleep with your feet bare or only with stockings on. Your rest with your feet free does twice as much good as the same amount of rest with them confined in the leather you have worn all day. This is the rule with all old travelers. Of course there are times, when you are close to the enemy and a surprise may be looked for at any moment, when you must make an exception to the rule; but don't make the exception if it can be avoided.”
Jack was skeptical on this point, and determined to try for himself. So he slept one night with his boots on and the next with them off, and found it just as the old soldier had told him. He candidly admitted his mistake, and said that for the future he should n't be so confident about his own opinions when they did n't coincide with those of persons older and more experienced than himself.
“One thing more bear in mind,” said their informant, “and that is about sleeping around a campfire.”
“What is that?”
“When you sleep near a fire always lie with your feet to it if you can. If you turn your head toward it you will quite likely have a headache in the morning, and, anyway, you won't sleep well. The brain should be kept cool while we are sleeping, and the feet warm. We cover our feet at night when we sleep in beds, but leave our heads exposed. Follow the same plan in camp, and if you have warmth anywhere have it at the feet.
“When you sleep in a tent have your head where you can get the greatest amount of pure air to breathe. The Indians understand this, and when they sleep in their circular wigwams or lodges they have their feet toward the center and their heads nearest the circumference.”
These simple directions were of great use to Jack and Harry in their subsequent campaigning, and should be remembered by any of the young readers of this story. Other hints came to them from time to time, which we may introduce hereafter.
After breakfast they continued their journey. Half a mile or so farther on they came to a house, where they asked the way to the next village, to make sure that they were on the right road. A woman and two tow-headed children were the sole possessors of the establishment, and they eyed the young travelers with an air of suspicion. After answering the question, the woman asked where they were from.
“We've come from the other side of the Missouri,” answered Jack, “and are going down to see some of our friends.”
“I know where you're going,” said the woman. “You don't look old enough for soldiers, but you're going South. Did you see any Yanks at Rolla?”
“Yes, lots of'em,” said Harry; “and't wasn't easy to get away from there.”
“Yes, yes, that's what they say,” responded the woman, fully convinced by Harry's answer that her suspicions were correct. And then she added, “Wonder 'f I could get to Rolla and get some snuff?”
The boys were non-committal on this point, but thought she would have no trouble if she went straight to the provost-marsha's office when she entered the village, and told what she wanted.
“And I want a little tea and coffee, too,” she added; “and then some salt and other things for the house.” Harry told her she might get a pound or so of each, but he was sure the officers would n't let anybody come through the lines with more than that. “That's what they told us at Rolla,” he added, “and so we did n't try to bring anything along,”—a statement which was literally true.
She promised to follow their directions, and then grew confidential. She told them her husband was down on the St. Francis river, where General Hardee was getting up an army to drive the Yanks out of Rolla and all that part of the state. “He's in Colonel Jones's regiment,” said she; “and if you see him, tell him we're getting on all right and hope they 'll be along soon, as we're getting mighty short of things to eat.”
Jack gravely made a mental note of the name of the man by pronouncing it several times, and promised to hunt him up as soon as they got where Colonel Jones's regiment was. The woman then invited the youths to stay and have something to eat. As they had just breakfasted they declined the invitation, but accepted the offer of some milk. One of the children brought it from the springhouse, and the young adventurers drank freely and with a good relish. They had a conscientious twinge in so doing, but swallowed the twinge along with the milk, and after thanking the kind-hearted woman for her hospitality continued on their way.
“Funny she should want snuff before anything else,” said Jack, as soon as they were out of earshot of the house.
“Nothing so very funny about that,” replied Harry. “Don't you know how they use it?”
“I've heard something about it, but don't know exactly.”
“I picked it up the other day,” Harry explained, “and this is how it is: They call it 'snuff-dipping' in the South,” he continued, “and it is very much the fashion among the middle and lower-class whites down in the cotton states, but not much in Missouri as yet. They take a little stick and chew the end until it's soft like a brush; then they dip this moist brush in snuff and rub it on the gums and around the mouth generally, and in this way they use up a good deal of snuff in the course of a year. It is said to produce a pleasant sort of mild intoxication, and after using it a little while a woman gets as much addicted to snuff-dipping as a man does to chewing tobacco or smoking. It's the same sort of vice, and I can't say I blame the women much, when all the men around them are chewing or smoking tobacco.”
“Do they all use it?” queried Jack; “I mean do the young women dip snuff the same as the older ones?”
“I did n't think to ask that question,” Harry responded; “but the man who told me said the women who dipped snuff mostly did it 'on the sly,' at any rate in the beginning of it. Probably they get bolder about it in time, just as boys do when they learn to smoke. After a while they get accustomed to snuff, and don't get the excitement out of it that they want, and then they take to smoking pipes just like men.”
Later observation convinced Jack that Harry had been correctly informed. The further they went in the South the more they found the use of tobacco prevailing among the women, and in several instances they found little concealment practiced in the custom of snuff-dipping. At one house where they called a middle-aged woman held her snuff-stick in her mouth all the time she was talking with them, just as a man might hold a cigar there, and an older woman sat by the fireplace smoking a corn-cob pipe with the utmost indifference to the presence of the young visitors.
They did not stop again until early in the afternoon, when they called at a house and asked if they could have dinner. There was a man about the premises, in addition to the woman and the usual complement of tow-headed children. He promptly said they hadn't much to offer, but the boys should be welcome. He had nothing but hog and hominy, and he reckoned that was all they would find anywhere on the road.
Jack took the lead as spokesman, and assured him that hog and hominy was good enough for anybody, and was all they wanted; and he further said that cold hog was just as good for them as hot, and if there was any cold in the house it would make them a first-rate dinner.
This avowal of democratic principles smoothed the way at once, and in a little while dinner was ready. Fried bacon and cornbread constituted the repast, which was washed down with milk, the boys intimating that they preferred it to any other beverage, partly for the reason that it was nutritious and partly because of the general scarcity of tea and coffee through all the war-stricken region. The host was not inclined to be talkative on the topics that were just then the most absorbing, probably for the reason that he did n't know exactly who and what his visitors might be, and preferred to remain neutral. Many men in Missouri tried to adopt this course, but sooner or later most of them were drawn into the war on one side or the other; neutrality was next to impossible where a man was able to bear arms or contribute in any way to the contest which involved the existence or the destruction of the nation.
When the meal was over Jack asked how much they owed for it. The man said he did n't want anything, but if they had fifty cents to spare for the children it might come handy. Accordingly Jack gave twenty-five cents to one of the children, Harry gave the same amount to another, and everything was satisfactory.
Just as they arose from the table there was the sound of hoofs outside, which drew everybody to the door. The hearts of the youths beat a little faster than usual when they saw eight or ten horsemen riding up to the house and ranging themselves in front of it.
CHAPTER XVII. A SUCCESSFUL SCOUT—CAPTURE OF A REBEL CAVALRY SQUAD.
Are they friends or enemies?” was the question which rose simultaneously in the thoughts of the two adventurers. One thing was certain, they were not a cavalry scouting party from Rolla, as they were not in the army uniform, but were dressed in the common garb of the country, the universal “butternut.”
Two of the men dismounted and entered the house, or rather stepped just within the doorway, while the others remained in their saddles and held the horses of the two already mentioned. The first question of the one who appeared to be leader was:
“Any Yanks about to-day?”
Receiving a negative reply, he asked if they had anything to drink. The host said he had just a drop of whisky, but he was afraid there was n't enough to go around. He brought out a bottle, and as it was less than half-full it was very evident that it would be a small allowance for the party of horsemen, supposing all of them were thirsty.
The captain, as his comrades called him, proceeded to fill the bottle with water, thus diluting its contents, and then remarked that he thought it would go around. After taking a good-sized drink for himself he went outside and handed the bottle over to his subordinates, by whom it was speedily emptied.
While they were discussing the whisky and remarking upon its thinness, the captain questioned the two youths, who replied as they had previously arranged to do. They told the story they had already given several times, and which they had begun to believe was entirely within the bounds of truth. The captain seemed somewhat suspicious at first, but before they were through talking he fell into the same error as did the woman at whose house they stopped in the morning.
“We're going south, too,” said the captain, “soon as we can raise more men and horses. If you'd only a couple of horses we'd jest take you along. But you don't look old enough for soldiers. How old are you?”
Jack said they would be sixteen very soon, and he added that perhaps the war might last long enough for them to get their full size. He echoed the wish of the captain that they had horses to travel with, so that they could go along with his company.
“Well, p'r'aps you 'll find some in a day or two,” the captain answered; “there's some of these Union men round here that 've got horses we ought to have.”
Jack took the hint and indicated their willingness to help themselves to horses whenever they could find any. This was satisfactory to the captain, and he said that they might join him as soon as they were mounted, and it would n't be very hard to find him if they asked in the right quarters.
Then he gave them several names of men who could be relied upon, and told where they lived. They covered a distance of fifteen or twenty miles to the east and south, so that as soon as the youths had supplied themselves with horses they could find out the captain's rendezvous. “But don't trust this man,” said the captain, nodding in the direction of the house in front of which they stood. “He talks South to our fellows and North to the Yanks when they come around, and nobody knows where to put him exactly. He's trying to carry water on both shoulders, and 'll be likely to spill it if he don't look out sharp.” Then the captain mounted his horse, after handing the empty bottle to the farmer, and the troop of Southern recruits rode off. The farmer was evidently glad to see them going away, and also not at all sorry when the boys followed in the same direction. He had heard only a small part of the conversation between them, but evidently caught enough of it to divine its purport.
“It's getting rather exciting,” said Harry, as soon as they were alone. “Had n't we better go back to Rolla and tell what we've seen and heard, so as to put the colonel on the track of the captain who wants us to become horse-thieves?”
“I've been thinking the same thing,” said Jack; “but how will we work it?”
“That's the question,” Harry responded. “It won't do to turn round now, as we should be suspected by everybody who has seen us, and particularly by the man where we had dinner. I think he's a Union man, or neutral anyhow; but we 'll take the captain's advice, and not trust him.”
“I have it,” said Jack. “We're tired now, and will go into the woods and have a sleep. We're about fifteen miles from Rolla, and can get back there by morning. Soon as it's dark we can start back and go just as fast as we can, and by breakfast time to-morrow we 'll have a party of cavalry on the heels of the captain.”
This was agreed to, and at once the boys, in the parlance of the Southwest, “took to the woods.” They slept soundly till dark, and then took the back track for Rolla. Fortunately they met nobody save a man in a farm-wagon, and as they heard the sound of his wheels some time before he reached them they had abundant opportunity to conceal themselves by the roadside till he had passed.
Just at daylight they reached the pickets outside of Rolla, and were immediately taken before the colonel, who received them in his tent and heard their story. Then he sent for a lieutenant of cavalry, who was at once dispatched with twenty men to hunt for the captain and his band of horse-thieves. Jack and Harry offered to accompany them, but the captain declined, partly because they were in great need of rest, having traveled thirty miles in about twenty-six hours and been awake all night, and partly because they would be recognized by those who had seen them on the road, and by the captain and his men in case they should be encountered.
“But do us one favor,” said Jack, when he found that their desire to accompany the party would not be granted.
“Anything in reason,” said the lieutenant; “what is it?”
Then he told about the woman who had given them the milk and asked them to stay to dinner, and he described the house so that it could not be mistaken.
“Well, what about her?” asked the lieutenant, as Jack paused.
“Take her this,” said Jack, handing out a package containing half a pound of tea, which he had obtained from the colonel's servant while they were waiting the arrival of the lieutenant, after the boys had told their story. “Just leave it and say it is from friends; you need n't tell her anything more, and it isn't necessary for her to know. We feel rather guilty at having had her hospitality for nothing, and want to compensate her in some way.”
The lieutenant laughed as he tossed the package to his sergeant and gave the order to mount. In two minutes the party was off. It was accompanied by two Union men, natives in that region, who were to act as guides in designating the roads leading to the probable retreat of the captain with whom the youths had formed so brief an acquaintance.
The lieutenant carried out the request of the boys and left the woman a good deal puzzled over the affair. He did not stop five minutes at the house, and briefly told her that an old friend had sent her something he thought would be acceptable. As the boys could not in any sense be considered old friends, she never once thought of them, and especially as they had gone, as she supposed, to the South, and turned their backs altogether upon Rolla and the way the Yankees came from.
Let us follow the scouting party and see how it turned out.
About fifteen miles out from Rolla, and near the point where Jack and Harry turned back, the lieutenant halted his men and sought a place of concealment in the woods by the roadside, first putting out a picket to prevent any one passing in either direction. Then, as the Union guides were known, he had them change clothing and horses with two of the men, whom he sent forward to one of the secessionists whose name had been given by the rebel captain to the youths. For this work he selected two young and beardless men, on the chance that the captain had told the secessionist that the two youths might ask his whereabouts.
The lieutenant's calculations were correct. The resident readily told where the captain was to be found, and the men returned by a circuitous route to where the soldiers were waiting for the desired information. Then there was a change back again to clothing and horses as before, and the hunt for the human game was renewed.
So well was the affair managed that the whole band was captured without the shedding of a drop of blood.
With the aid of the guides the camp of the rebel recruits was surrounded and the whole party was taken by surprise. At first they were inclined to fight, but when they saw their assailants were double their number, and also were better armed, they considered discretion the better part of valor and gave up as gracefully as they could.
The lieutenant returned in triumph to Rolla with his prisoners and their horses. To guard against accidents the prisoners were not mounted on their own steeds, but carried in a wagon which formed a part of their camp equipment. Four soldiers with their carbines ready rode on each side of the wagon, and if any attempt had been made to escape it would have resulted badly for those who tried it.
The captured horses were turned over to the quartermaster, with the exception of two, which the colonel gave to Jack and Harry for their own use. Jack selected the one which had belonged to the captain, and remarked as he did so that he had carried out that gentleman's wishes in helping himself to a horse, though possibly not in the way the latter intended.
The colonel praised the boys for what they had done, but advised them to give the region of their late operations a wide berth in future.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE REBELS ON THE OFFENSIVE—SIEGE OF LEXINGTON.
The morning after their arrival at Rolla, the prisoners taken through the instrumentality of Jack and Harry were sent to St. Louis, where they were held until an exchange was arranged. Colonel Wyman thought the interests of the service would be advanced by keeping the captured captain and his comrades in ignorance of how their seizure was accomplished, and in obedience to his orders the two youths kept out of the way of the prisoners, and nothing was said in their presence that could enlighten them.
It was several months before the captain found out how cleverly he had been taken. At first he was inclined to be very angry with the boys, and vowed vengeance upon them if he ever met them again; but on reflection he remarked that all was fair in love and war, and perhaps he was not quite free from blame in talking so readily with two entire strangers. “They played the game well,” said he; “splendidly, in fact, for a pair of youngsters, and if I can ever give them a helping hand when they're in trouble I 'll do it.” He was n't at all a bad sort of fellow, that captain, and you can be sure that after that he was n't quite so ready to confide in persons whom he had never seen before.
Not only did the boys have a selection from the captured horses, but they had a choice of saddles and also of the pistols which formed the armament of the prisoners.
All the pistols were old, and some of them were quite as likely to do damage at the rear as at the business end. The captain had the best weapon of the lot—a Colt's revolver, and there was another just about as good. Jack and Harry drew lots for the choice. The advantage fell to Jack, who immediately picked up the captain's revolver and handed it over to Harry. “I've got the captain's horse,” said he, “and you ought to have something to remember him by, so you must take this along.” Thus the division was settled, and both were happy.
Thus armed and mounted, the boys were what might be called “swells” in the garrison of Rolla, and the envy of many of their associates. There was not a great deal for them to do for a month or more, as the enemy did not make the attack upon the post they had been threatening to make, nor did they even make a feint of one. The boys went on several scouting expeditions on their own account, with the approval of the commanding officer of the post, and though they made some discoveries and obtained information that was of use, they did not succeed in making captures of prisoners and horses.
Recruiting for the rebel army was in progress in all the interior counties of Missouri, and often almost under the eyes of the Union authorities. Now and then an expedition seized a squad or company of recruits and brought them triumphantly within the lines, but as a general thing the most of the men who wanted to join the Southern armies succeeded in doing so. The fact was, it was not possible to garrison every town and village throughout the State, and it was thought best to allow those with secession proclivities to get away to the field whenever they wanted to go, rather than remain and be a cause of trouble.
General Fremont had been assigned to the command of the Department of the Missouri shortly before the battle of Wilson's Creek, and it was to him that General Lyon had appealed so earnestly and so vainly for reinforcements to enable him to hold out against the advancing rebels. After the retreat of the army to Rolla and the occupation of Springfield by the rebels, General Fremont set about organizing a force to take the field early in the autumn, with the hope of securing possession of the state and flying the Union flag all over its territory.
After the battle of Wilson's Creek the disagreement which had existed between the rebel leaders—Price and McCulloch—increased, and finally threatened to end in warfare almost equal to that which they were trying to wage together against the Union. McCulloch refused to advance further into the state, in spite of the entreaties of Price. An appeal to the Confederate government did not result in securing a peremptory order for McCulloch to advance as Price desired, and the result was a separation. McCulloch went back to Arkansas, while Price, whose forces had been strengthened by recruits from various parts of the state, marched northward in the direction of the Missouri river.
Price's openly-declared intentions were to capture Jefferson City, the capital, and re-establish Governor Jackson in authority there. A state convention had met there in July, and, of course, there was no governor to welcome it, and no commander-in-chief of the state forces. The convention declared the office of governor vacant, and chose a new governor, Honorable Hamilton R. Gamble, to fill Jackson's place. It is needless to say that Governor Gamble was a Union man, and from that time onward the power of the state was exerted in favor of the national government and against the rebellion of the South.
Jackson, the fugitive and rebel governor, never saw the state capital again after he left on the day of the memorable flight to Booneville. He continued with the rebel armies in southwest Missouri and Arkansas and died in the last-named state long before the end of the war. General Price survived the war and afterward went to Mexico, where he was one of the founders of a colony of Americans who had sworn never to live under the flag of the United States. He died there in 1867.
With twenty thousand men in his command, and with his numbers increasing every day of his advance, Price reached Lexington, on the banks of the Missouri, having two or three encounters with the Union forces on his way, none of which were of much account. The superiority of his numbers gave him the advantage, and his opponents wisely retreated as he moved on. Lexington was garrisoned by about two thousand six hundred Union troops, consisting of volunteer infantry and Home Guards, under command of Colonel Mulligan, of the Irish Brigade. A fortification had been thrown up around the college buildings, which stood in a commanding position between the new and old towns of Lexington, and about half a mile from the river. The bank of the river was a high bluff, and with the exception of a small supply from cisterns and springs, water for the garrison had to be brought by hand or hauled by teams from below the base of this bluff.
Colonel Mulligan arrived at Lexington on the first of September, and the fortification, which he greatly strengthened, had been laid out by the commander of the troops already there. The spot was not wisely selected, as we shall presently see. As one of the officers said afterwards, “It was a very good place for a peace fortress, but very bad for warfare, especially when the warfare has to be defensive.”
The men worked night and day to complete the intrenchments, which were ten feet high, with a ditch eight feet wide, and capable of inclosing ten thousand men. Rumors of the advance of Price were in the air, and it was definitely known that he was moving toward Lexington. Appeals for reinforcements were sent to St. Louis, but they did not succeed in bringing troops to the aid of the garrison, for the simple reason that none could be spared from that city.
On the afternoon of Wednesday, the eleventh of September, the Union scouts and pickets were driven in by the enemy only a few miles out of Lexington. The rebels followed rapidly and attacked one of the angles of the fortifications, but not very vigorously. The fighting was kept up on the twelfth and following days, while the rebel army was coming up and making its preparations for the reduction of the fortification and capture of the garrison.
There were nearly three-thousand mules and horses inside the fortifications, and as the rebel shot and shell fell amongst them they caused a great deal of trouble. Numbers of them were killed and their bodies lay rotting in the sun, the garrison being too much occupied with defending the position to give attention to burying the dead animals or doing any other work of the camp. Frequently some of the affrighted animals broke loose from their fastenings and ran wildly about the camp, and it was finally found advisable to allow some of them to run outside, as their value was not sufficient compensation for the trouble and danger of caring for them.
The college building was within the inclosure, and occupied as the headquarters of Colonel Mulligan. Very naturally, it formed a fine target for the rebel artillery, and they fired away at it with good effect. One night they fired hot shot at it, but did not set it on fire; had they succeeded in doing so it would have created considerable havoc among the garrison, as the ammunition for the defense of the place was stored in the cellar, where it was covered with dirt and sods.
The rebels went to work leisurely, as before stated. They planted some of their artillery on the river bank, where they stopped every steamboat going up or down. They seized the ferry-boats that connect Lexington with the opposite bank of the river, and thus prevented the crossing of reinforcements which were moving from Kansas to join the threatened garrison. Several steamboats were thus taken, and for a while, at least, General Price was certainly master of the situation.
The country around Lexington grows a large amount of hemp, and thousands of bales of this article were stored in the warehouses of the town. The rebels rolled out this hemp, and with it constructed movable fortifications, with which they proceeded to reduce the earthworks of the Union army.
And this is the way it was done: The hemp was thoroughly wetted, so that there would be no danger of its taking fire, and then the bales were rolled toward the Union works, one after another, until they formed a breastwork; and all the time not a head of a man could be seen. Then other bales were brought forward and rolled on the top of the first layer, and in this way the assailants had a defense that no bullet could penetrate. Even the four or five pieces of light artillery which Colonel Mulligan possessed could do but little against such a bulwark as this.
The first of these hemp breastworks was thrown up to the west of the fort; another on the north, where it was partially sheltered by timber, followed it very quickly. In the night they were pushed forward, so that they were within very short range, and from the spaces between the bales the rebels kept up a fire upon every Union head that was shown on that side of the earthworks. It was a repetition of the trick of General Jackson with the cotton bales of New Orleans in 1815.
There were several houses within range of the fort, and these were speedily occupied by the rebels. Then from every rock, elevation, fence, gully and tree bullets were steadily whizzing, the great numbers of the rebels enabling them to keep their lines of attack fully manned at all times.
Rations were growing short in the fortifications, and the men were worn out with hard work and the necessity of being almost constantly on duty. The stench from the dead animals within the lines was fearful, and threatened to breed an epidemic; some of the Home Guards were demoralized and wanted to surrender, but the commander refused to entertain the idea of giving up the place.
CHAPTER XIX. SURRENDER OF LEXINGTON—PRICE'S RETREAT AND FREMONT'S ADVANCE.
To the lack of ammunition and provisions, the stench of the dead animals, the immense preponderance in numbers of the enemy, the abundance of hemp with which the rebels could construct breastworks, the beleaguered garrison had to face an additional horror—that of thirst.
As before stated, the fortification was at some distance from the river, and within the limits of the fortification there were two cisterns, which were soon exhausted, and just outside the lines were two springs, which afforded a scanty supply, the rest being taken from the river. As soon as the besiegers ascertained this state of affairs they proceeded to cut off the supply of water, which they were able to do with their greatly superior numbers.
All communication with the river was severed, and then a force was posted in a position to fire on anybody who went to get water at the springs. Men can fight under great privations of food and with short supplies of ammunition, but they cannot fight against thirst. So determined were the men to hold out, that during a heavy rain on the second night after the siege began every tent and wagon cover was spread to catch as much water as possible; in this way a great amount was secured, and more was obtained by spreading blankets, and afterward wringing them out.
Twice a white flag was raised on the ramparts without the authority of Colonel Mulligan, and immediately hauled down as soon as he learned of it. A third time it was raised, also without his authority; but when he considered the sufferings of his men and found there was no prospect of relief, he consented to surrender, and negotiations were begun immediately. Unconditional surrender were the terms demanded by the besiegers, and under the circumstances the besieged were forced to accept them. They piled their arms and handed over their colors. Colonel Mulligan wept as he gave up his command, and many of his men fairly rolled on the ground in their rage at having been defeated. But it was practically impossible that they could hold out any longer, and the surrender was certainly in the interests of humanity.
The losses were less than might have been expected in a fight that lasted from the eleventh to the twentieth of September, though it must be remembered that for the first few days it was not very energetically pushed by the besiegers. The water supply was cut off on the seventeenth and from that time to the twentieth the garrison had no water beyond what they caught in blankets, tents and wagon-covers in the rain that has been mentioned. Less than two hundred were killed and wounded on the Union side, and about the same number on that of the rebels. Each side claimed to have inflicted a greater loss on the enemy than it sustained itself, a circumstance which has been more or less intimately connected with warfare since the world began.
Original Size
Immediately after the surrender the rebels swarmed around the prisoners, and while some treated them kindly, others heaped abuse upon them, and if the Unionists had not already laid down their arms there would have been a good prospect of a renewal of the fight. The prisoners were paroled not to take up arms against the Confederacy until regularly exchanged, and then they were set across the Missouri river and marched to a point near the Hannibal and St. Joseph Railway and told to go where they pleased. During this march they were in charge of General Rains and his brigade, and most of them testified to the kindness of the soldiers of Rain's Brigade and of the people along the road they traveled.
After the surrender Lexington was a lively place. With nearly thirty thousand victorious rebel soldiery in the town, and many of these soldiers filled with whisky, in addition to being flushed with victory, the streets were anything but quiet and orderly. The officers of the Confederates were gentlemanly enough, but as for the soldiers they were anything but well-behaved. It required all the authority of the officers to keep the men from breaking loose and setting the town on fire or committing some other folly or barbarity. In some instances it became necessary to order the men out of town and form camps three or four miles away, which no one could leave without express permission.
There was the same lack of uniforms that had characterized the troops at Wilson's Creek, only a few hundreds of all the army under General Price having been able to obtain the Confederate gray. Some of the generals and colonels were uniformed, but many were not, and wore their civilian dress, with cloth shoulder-straps to indicate their rank. Many of the soldiers fought quite independently of all command, and took their positions wherever they were best suited.
An eye-witness of the siege said that the mode of fighting was well illustrated by something that came under his observation. There was an old Texan, dressed in a buckskin suit and armed with a hunting-rifle of the kind in use on the plains before the war. About seven o'clock every morning this Texan used to go to the Confederate breastworks, carrying his dinner in a tin pail. He hunted around for a good position till he found one, and then he fired away whenever he saw a head until the sun showed the meridian.
Promptly at noon he knocked off for an hour and ate his dinner. Then he went to work again and kept at it till six o'clock, when he went home to supper and to spend the night in peaceful sleep. Morning saw him at his post again; and thus he continued at his daily task till the surrender took place. There were a good many independent warriors of this sort, and if they did not kill many of their adversaries it was because the latter kept their heads out of range.
As soon as Lexington was surrendered Price turned his attention to gathering supplies and recruits from the rich and populous counties along the river. While he was engaged at this business, General Fremont assembled an army at Jefferson City for the purpose of heading him off. A portion of Fremont's army marched from Jefferson City to Tipton and Syracuse, while the balance was sent forward by railway to the same point. It was intended to march from these points to Springfield and reoccupy the place, which Lyon's army had been compelled to give up in August after the reverse at Wilson's Creek.
At the same time the garrison of Rolla was strengthened, and a column was ordered to move from that point to join the main force at Springfield. This movement promised to give occupation to Jack and Harry, who had been chafing at their inactivity while preparations were in progress. True, they had scouting expeditions occasionally, but as they did not succeed in finding any enemy, except in a very few instances, there was not enough to make the life of the camp at all exciting.
Movements were delayed by a lack of supplies and transportation, and it was not till the middle of October that the Union forces took the offensive. In the main column from Tipton and Syracuse, General Sigel's division had the advance; while the other commanders were waiting for transportation Sigel scoured the country and picked up everything that could be of use. His wagon-train when he started was one of the funniest things of the kind ever known; there were some army wagons of the regulation pattern, but there were more emigrant wagons, such as are used by pioneers seeking new homes in the far West beyond the lines of railway, and where steamboats are unknown.
Then he had stage-coaches, family-carriages, drays, hay-carts, in fact all the kinds of vehicles known to that part of the country, and whenever a pack-saddle was found it was taken along. And the motive power was as varied as the vehicles to be moved; it comprised mules and horses as a matter of course, and it also included oxen, and even cows where the latter were found docile enough to be yoked or harnessed. There was a rumor that some of Sigel's men attempted to harness up a drove of pigs; that they took the pigs along there can be no reasonable doubt, but probably for some other purpose than breaking them in as draft animals. However burdensome to carry a pig may be, he has never been found a satisfactory beast of burden.
Before Fremont could get his army in motion, Price had taken the alarm and evacuated Lexington. He was too wily to wait till his enemy could get in front of him to cut him off, and the most that Fremont could hope for was that Price would make a stand in the neighborhood of Springfield and give chance for a battle.
Fremont did not encounter any enemy on his southward march until he was in the neighborhood of Springfield. When within fifty miles of that place he sent forward two companies of his body-guard, comprising about one hundred and fifty men, under the command of Major Zagonyi, and composed of most excellent materials for a cavalry squadron. The members of the body-guard were from the best class of young men of St. Louis and Cincinnati. From the completeness of the body-guard's outfit and the dashing appearance it presented, it was derisively known as the kid-gloved regiment. It consisted of four companies of cavalry, and the intention was to increase it to a full regiment of ten companies, an intention never carried out. After the removal of Fremont the famous organization was sent to St. Louis and disbanded.
Well, the body-guard got within eight miles of Springfield without seeing the enemy, but at that distance from town it found a brigade of infantry, with some cavalry, drawn up to receive them. Major Zagonyi ordered a charge, and it was made in gallant style. It was like the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaklava—it was magnificent, but it was not war. The enemy was routed and the town was occupied only to be abandoned as soon as night came on, for the very natural fear of a surprise, which might easily have been disastrous to the seventy or eighty men that remained of Zagonyi's command, the rest having been killed, wounded, or scattered in the fight. Fifteen were killed and twenty-seven wounded, and fully fifty horses were killed or rendered useless by reason of wounds and over-riding.
Jack and Harry discussed the affair, when the news reached them, with the coolness and critical air of major-generals.
“What was the use of such a charge as that?” said Jack, with his eye fixed on Harry as though he would pierce him.
“It was a splendid fight,” was the reply, “and did great credit to the men that made it.”
“Nobody says it did n't,” responded Jack; “but just look at the waste of life, and nothing to show for it. The rebels were preparing to leave Springfield; in fact, the two thousand that Zagonyi says he encountered were only the rear-guard of Price's army, and when our army came along it could have occupied the town, as it afterwards did, without any opposition. The lives of those soldiers were just thrown away, and it is n't the only time men have been sacrificed just to enable somebody to show off.” Harry nodded assent, and the conversation shifted to other topics.