Chapter XXII: A General Advance--A Scouting Party and What Came of It

|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.

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.