Chapter XVI

Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close
the wall up with our English dead!----KING HENRY V.

General Fremont's Body Guard was composed of picked young men of unusual intelligence. They were all handsomely uniformed, efficiently armed, and mounted upon bay horses. They cultivated the mustache, with the rest of the face smooth--at least, not a more whimsical decree than the rigid regulation of the British army, which compelled every man to shave and wear a stock under the burning sun of the Crimea. Many denounced the Guard as a "kid-gloved," ornamental corps, designed only to swell Fremont's retinue.

Major Zagonyi, commandant of the Guard, with one hundred and fifty of his men, started with orders to reconnoiter the country in front of us. When near Springfield, they found the town held by a Rebel force of cavalry and infantry, ill organized, but tolerably armed, and numbering two thousand.

Zagonyi drew his men up in line, explained the situation, and asked whether they would attack or turn back for re-enforcements. They replied unanimously that they would attack.

They _did_ attack. Men and horses were very weary. They had ridden fifty miles in seventeen hours; they had never been under fire before; but history hardly parallels their daring.

[Sidenote: CHARGE OF THE BODY GUARD.]

The Rebels formed in line of battle at the edge of a wood. To approach them, the Guard were compelled to ride down a narrow lane, exposed to a terrible fire from three different directions. They went through this shower of bullets, dismounted, tore down the high zig-zag fence, led their horses over in the teeth of the enemy, remounted, formed, and, spreading out, fan-like, charged impetuously, shouting "Fremont and the Union."

The engagement was very brief and very bloody. Though only in the proportion of one to thirteen, the Guard behaved as if weary of their lives. Men utterly reckless are masters of the situation. At first, the Confederates fought well; but they were soon panic-stricken, and many dropped their guns, and ran to and fro like persons distracted.

The Guard charged through and through the broken ranks of the Rebels, chased them in all directions--into the woods, beyond the woods, down the roads, through the town--and planted the old flag upon the Springfield court-house, where it had not waved since the death of Lyon.

Armed with revolvers and revolving carbines, members of the Guard had twelve shots apiece. After delivering their first fire, there was no time to reload, and (the only instance of the kind early in the war) nearly all their work was done with the saber. When they mustered again, almost every blade in the command was stained with blood.

Of their one hundred and fifty horses, one hundred and twenty were wounded. A sergeant had three horses shot under him. A private received a bullet in a blacking-box, which he carried in his pocket. They lost fifty men, sixteen of whom were killed on the spot.

"I wonder if they will call us fancy soldiers and kid-gloved boys any longer?" said one, who lay wounded in the hospital when we arrived.

[Sidenote: TURNING THE TABLES.]

On a cot beside him, I found an old schoolmate. His eye brightened as he grasped my hand.

"Is your wound serious?" I asked.

"Painful, but not fatal. O, it was a glorious fight!"

It _was_ a glorious fight. Wilson Creek is doubly historic ground. There first a thousand of our men poured out their blood like water, and the brave Lyon laid down his life "for our dear country's sake." Two months later, the same stream witnessed the charge of the Body Guard, which, in those dark days, when the Cause looked gloomy, thrilled every loyal heart in the nation. It will shine down the historic page, and be immortal in song and story.

Major Frank J. White, of our army, was with the Rebels as a prisoner of war during the charge. Just before they were routed, fourteen men, under a South Carolina captain, started with him for General Price's camp. At a house where they spent the night, the farmer boldly avowed himself a Union man. He supposed White to be one of the Rebel officers; but, finding a moment's opportunity, the major whispered to him:

"I am a Union prisoner. Send word to Springfield at once, and my men will come and rescue me."

The Rebels, leaving one man on picket outside, went to bed in the same room with their prisoner. Then the farmer sent his little boy of twelve years, on horseback, fourteen miles to Springfield. At three o'clock in the morning, twenty-six Home Guards surrounded the house, and captured the entire party. Major White at once took command, and posted _his_ guards over the crestfallen Confederates.

While they sat around the fire in the evening, waiting for supper, the Rebel captain had remarked:

"Major, we have a little leisure, and I believe I will amuse myself by looking over your papers." Whereupon he spent an hour in examining the letters which he found in White's possession. In the morning, when the party, again sitting by the fire, waited for breakfast, the major said, quietly:

"Captain, we have a little leisure, and I think I will amuse myself by looking over _your_ papers." So the Rebel documents were scrutinized in turn. White returned in triumph to Springfield, bringing his late captors as prisoners. A friendship sprang up between him and the South Carolina captain, who remained on parole in our camp for several days, and they messed and slept together.

[Sidenote: WELCOME FROM UNION RESIDENTS.]

When our troops entered Springfield, the people greeted them with uncontrollable joy; for they were intensely loyal, and had been under Rebel rule more than eleven weeks. Scores and scores of National flags now suddenly emerged from mysterious hiding-places; wandering exiles came pouring back, and we were welcomed by hundreds of glad faces, waving handkerchiefs, swinging hats, and vociferous huzzas.

Fremont had now modified his Proclamation; but the logic of events was stronger than President Lincoln. The negroes would throng our camp, and Fremont never permitted a single one to be returned. One slave appropriated a horse, and, guiding him only by a rope about the nose, without saddle or bridle, blanket or spur, rode from Price's camp to Fremont's head-quarters, more than eighty miles, in eighteen hours.

A brigade of regular troops, under General Sturgis, having marched from Kansas City, joined us in Springfield. They were under very rigid discipline, and all their supplies, whether procured from Rebels or Unionists, were paid for in gold. Sturgis was then very "conservative," and some of our people denounced him as disloyal. But, like hundreds of others, inexorable war educated him very rapidly. His sympathies were soon heartily on our side. He afterward, in the Army of the Potomac, won and wore bright laurels.

[Sidenote: FREAKS OF THE KANSAS BRIGADE.]

The Kansas volunteer brigade, under General "Jim" Lane, also joined us at Springfield. Their course contrasted sharply with that of Sturgis's men. They had a good many old scores to settle up, and they swept along the Missouri border like a hurricane. Sublimely indifferent to the President's orders, and all other orders which did not please them, they received over two thousand slaves, sending them off by installments into Kansas. When the master was loyal, they would gravely appraise the negro; give him a receipt for his slave, named ----, valued at ---- hundred dollars, "lost by the march of the Kansas Brigade," and advise him to carry the claim before Congress!

By some unexplained law, dandies, fools, and supercilious braggarts often gravitate into staff positions; but Fremont's staff was an exceedingly agreeable one. Many of its members had traveled over the globe, and, from their wide experiences, whiled away many hours before the evening camp-fires.

On the 31st of October, the correspondents, under cavalry escort, visited the Wilson Creek battle-ground, ten miles south of Springfield.

The field is broken by rocky ridges and deep ravines, and covered with oak shrubs. Picking his way among the brushwood, my horse's hoof struck with a dull, hollow sound against a human skull. Just beyond, still clad in uniform, lay a skeleton, on whose ghastliness the storms and sunshine of three months had fallen. The head was partially severed; and though the upturned face was fleshless, I could not resist the impression that it wore a look of mortal agony. It was in a little thicket, several yards from the scene of any fighting. The poor fellow was carried there, dying or dead, during the progress of the battle, and afterward overlooked. Among our lost his name was probably followed by the sad word "Missing."

"Not among the suffering wounded;
Not among the peaceful dead;
Not among the prisoners. MISSING--
That was all the message said.

"Yet his mother reads it over,
Until, through her painful tears,
Fades the dear name she has called him
For these two-and-twenty years."

Many graves had been opened by wolves. Bones of horses, haversacks, shoes, blouses, gun-barrels, shot, and fragments of shell, were scattered over the field. The trees were scarred with bullets, and hundreds were felled by the artillery. A six-inch shot would cut down one of these brittle oaks a foot in diameter.

[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF A FEMALE SPY.]

A few miles south of Springfield one of our scouts encountered a young woman on horseback. Suspecting her errand, he informed her confidentially that he was a spy from Price's army, who had been several days in Fremont's camp. Falling into this palpable trap, the girl told him frankly that _she_ was sent by Price to visit our forces, and obtain information. She was taken immediately to Fremont's head-quarters. Her terror was very great on finding herself betrayed. She told all she knew about the Rebels, and was finally allowed to depart in peace. The employment of female spies was very common upon both sides.

[Sidenote: FREMONT'S FAREWELL TO HIS ARMY.]

On the 2d of November our whole army was at Springfield. Fremont had progressed farther south than any other Union commander, from the Atlantic to the Rio Grande. Detachments of Rebels were within ten miles of our camps. Emphatic, but entirely false reports from the colonel at the head of Fremont's scouts,[14] had given the impression that Price's entire command was very near us; and a great battle was hourly expected.

[14] This officer was a native Missourian, deemed trustworthy, and thoroughly familiar with the country. He reported officially to Fremont that the whole Rebel army was within eleven miles of us, when it was really fifty miles away. Then, indeed, much later in the war, accurate information about the enemy seemed absolutely unattainable. Scott, McClellan, Halleck, Grant, all failed to procure it. Rosecrans was the first general who kept himself thoroughly advised of the whereabouts, strength, and designs of the Rebels.

Fremont was in the midst of an important campaign. His army was most patriotic, enthusiastic, and promising. His personal popularity among his troops was without parallel.

At this moment the official ax fell. He received an order to turn over his command to Hunter. It was a trying ordeal, but he did a soldier's duty, obeying silently and instantly. The first intelligence which the army received was conveyed by this touching farewell:

SOLDIERS OF THE MISSISSIPPI ARMY: Agreeably to orders this
day received, I take leave of you. Although our army has
been of sudden growth, we have grown up together, and I have
become familiar with the brave and generous spirit which you
bring to the defense of your country, and which makes me
anticipate for you a brilliant career.

Continue as you have begun, and give to my successor the
same cordial and enthusiastic support with which you have
encouraged me. Emulate the splendid example already before
you, and let me remain, as I am, proud of the noble army
which I have thus far labored to bring together.

[Sidenote: DISAFFECTION AMONG THE SOLDIERS.]

Soldiers! I regret to leave you. Sincerely I thank you for
the regard and confidence you have invariably shown me. I
deeply regret that I shall not have the honor to lead you
to the victory which you are just about to win, but I shall
claim to share with you in the joy of every triumph, and
trust always to be fraternally remembered by my companions in
arms.

Fremont's name had been the rallying-point of the volunteers. Officers and entire regiments had come from distant parts of the country to serve under him. All felt the impropriety and cruelty of his removal at this time. Many officers at once wrote their resignations. Whole battalions were reported laying down their arms. The Germans were specially indignant, and among the Body Guard there was much bitterness.

The slightest encouragement or tolerance from the General would have produced wide-spread mutiny; but he expostulated with the malcontents, reminding them that their first duty was to the country; and, after Hunter's arrival, left the camp before daylight, lest his appearance among the soldiers, as he rode away, should excite improper demonstrations.

A few days moderated the feeling of the troops; for, like all our volunteers, they were wedded not to any man, but to the Cause.

In St. Louis, Fremont was received more like a conquering hero than a retiring general. An immense assembly greeted him. In their enthusiasm, the people even carpeted his door-step with flowers.

For weeks before his removal the air had been filled with clamors, charging him with incompetency, extravagance, and giving Government contracts to corrupt men. The first attacks upon him immediately followed his Emancipation Proclamation, issued August 31, 1861.

[Sidenote: SPURIOUS MISSOURI UNIONISTS.]

There were many half-hearted Unionists in Missouri. For example, shortly after the capture of Sumter, General Robert Wilson, of Andrew County, in a public meeting, served upon the committee on resolutions reporting the following:

"_Resolved_, That we condemn as inhuman and diabolical the
war being waged by the Government against the South."

Eight months after, this same Wilson claimed to be a Union leader, and, as such, was sent to represent Missouri in the Senate of the United States! Of course all men of this class waged unrelenting war upon Fremont. Afterward there was a rupture among the really loyal men; a fierce quarrel, in which the able but unscrupulous Blairs headed the opposition, and some zealous and patriotic Unionists co-operated with them. The President, always conscientious, was persuaded to remove the General; but afterward tacitly admitted its injustice by giving him another command.

Mr. Lincoln also countermanded the Emancipation Proclamation, which was a little ahead of the times. Still it gratified the plain people, even then. Tired of the tender and delicate terms in which our authorities were wont to speak of "domestic institutions" and "systems of labor," they were delighted to read the announcement in honest Saxon:

"The property of active Rebels is confiscated for the public
use; and their slaves, if any they have, are hereby declared
Free Men."

It was a new and pure leaf in the history of the war.

Of course Fremont made mistakes, though the abuses in his department were infinitely less than those which disgraced Washington, and which in some degree are inseparable from large, unusual disbursements of public money.

[Sidenote: CONDUCT OF CAMERON AND THOMAS.]

But he was very earnest. He was quite ignorant of How Not to Do it. He took grave responsibilities. When red tape hampered him, he cut it. Unable to obtain arms at Washington--which, in those days, knew only Virginia--he ransacked the markets of the world for them. When a paymaster refused to liquidate one of his bills, on the ground of irregularity, he arrested him, and threatened to have him shot if he persisted. Able to leave but few troops in St. Louis, he fortified the city in thirty days, employing five thousand laborers.

Secretary Cameron and Adjutant-General Thomas visited Missouri, after Fremont started upon his Springfield campaign. General Thomas did not hesitate, in railway cars and hotels, to condemn him violently--a gross breach of official propriety, and clearly tending to excite insubordination among the soldiers. Cameron dictated a letter, ordering Fremont to discontinue the St. Louis fortifications as unnecessary, informing him that his official debts would not be discharged till investigated, his contracts recognized, or the officers paid whom he had appointed under the written authority of the President.

In due time they _were_ recognized and paid. The St. Louis fortifications proved needful, and were afterward finished. Yet Cameron permitted the contents of this letter to be telegraphed all over the country four days before Fremont received it. It seemed designed to impugn his integrity, destroy his credit, promote disaffection in his camps, and prevent his contractors from fulfilling their engagements. Thomas officially reported that Fremont would not be able to move his army for lack of transportation. Before the report could reach Washington, the army had advanced more than a hundred miles!

[Sidenote: DISREGARD OF THE ARMY REGULATIONS.]

Time, which at last makes all things even, vindicated Fremont's leading measures in Missouri. His subsequent withdrawal from the field, in Virginia, was doubtless unwise. It was hard to be placed under a junior and hostile general; but private wrongs must wait in war, and resignation proves quite as inadequate a remedy for the grievances of an officer, as Secession for the fancied wrongs of the Slaveholders.

Brigadier-General Justus McKinstry, ex-Quartermaster of the Western Department, was arrested, and closely confined in the St. Louis arsenal for many months. His repeated demands for the charges and specifications against him were disregarded. He was at last court-martialed and dismissed the service, on the charge of malfeasance in office. Brigadier-General Charles P. Stone was for a long time kept under arrest in the same manner. These proceedings flagrantly violated both the Army Regulation, entitling officers to know the charges and witnesses against them, within ten days after arrest, and the spirit of the Constitution itself, which guarantees to every man a speedy public trial in the presence of his accusers.

Equally reprehensible was the arrest and long confinement of many civilians without formal charges or trial. States where actual war existed, and even the debatable ground which bordered them, might be proper fields for this exercise of the Military Power. But the friends of the Union, holding Congress, and nearly every State Legislature by overwhelming majorities, could make whatever laws they pleased; therefore, these measures were unnecessary and unjustifiable in the North, hundreds of miles from the seat of war. Utterly at variance with personal rights and republican institutions, they were alarming and dangerous precedents, which any unscrupulous future administration may plausibly cite in defense of the grossest outrages. President Lincoln was always very chary of this exercise of arbitrary power; but some of his constitutional advisers were constantly urging it. Secretary Stanton, in particular, advocated and committed acts of flagrant despotism. He was a good patent-office lawyer, but had not the faintest conception of those primary principles of Civil Liberty which underlie English and American institutions. Even the Magna Charta, in sonorous Latin, declared:

"No person shall be apprehended or imprisoned, except by the
legal judgment of his peers, or the law of the land. To none
will we sell, to none will we deny, to none will we _delay_
right or justice."

[Sidenote: MILITARY POWER AND THE PRESS.]

Kindred questions arose touching the Military Power and the Liberty of the Press. Each northern city had its daily journal, which, under thin disguise of loyalty, labored zealously for the Rebels. Soldiers could not patiently read treasonable sheets. On several occasions military commanders suppressed them, but the President promptly removed the disability. The sober second thought of the people was, that if editors and publishers in the loyal North could not be convicted and punished in the civil courts, they should not be molested.

General Hunter, succeeding Fremont, evacuated southwestern Missouri. Before leaving Springfield, besieged with applications for runaway slaves, he issued orders to deliver them up; but soldiers and officers in his camps hid them so safely that they could not be found by their masters.

[Sidenote: RUDENESS OF GENERAL HALLECK.]

Hunter's little brief authority lasted just fifteen days, when he was succeeded by General Halleck--a stout, heavy-faced, rather stupid-looking officer, who wore civilian's dress, and resembled a well-to-do tradesman. On the 20th of November appeared his shameful General Order Number Three:

"It has been represented that important information
respecting the numbers and condition of our forces is
conveyed to the enemy by means of fugitive slaves who are
admitted within our lines. In order to remedy this evil, it
is directed that no such persons be hereafter permitted to
enter the lines of any camp, or of any forces on the march,
and that any now within our lines be immediately excluded
therefrom."

Its inhumanity outraged the moral sense, and its falsehood the common sense, of the country. The negroes were uniformly friends to our soldiers. After diligent inquiry from every leading officer of my acquaintance, I could not learn a single instance of treachery. To the cruelty of turning the slave away, Halleck added the dishonesty of slandering him.

When Charles James Fox was canvassing for Parliament, one of his auditors said to him:

"Sir, I admire your talents, but d--n your politics!"

Fox retorted: "Sir, I admire your frankness, but d--n your manners!"

Many who had official business with Halleck uttered similar maledictions. To his visitors he was brusque to surliness. Dr. Holmes says, with great truth, that all men are bores when we do not want them. Like all public characters, Halleck was beset by those grievous dispensations of Providence. But a general in command of half a continent ought, at least, to have the manners of a gentleman; and he was sometimes so insulting that his legitimate visitors would have been justified in kicking him down stairs. None of our high officials equaled him in rudeness, except Mr. Stanton, Secretary of War.

In January, as a Government steamer approached the landing at Commerce, Missouri, two women on shore shouted to the pilot:

"Don't land! Jeff. Thompson and his soldiers are here waiting for you."

The redoubtable guerrilla, with fifty men, instantly sprang from behind a wood-pile and fired a volley. Twenty-six bullets entered the cabin of the retreating boat; but, thanks to the loyal women, no person was killed or captured.

[Sidenote: A DROLL FLAG OF TRUCE.]

One day, a seedy individual in soiled gray walked into Halleck's private room at the Planter's House, in St. Louis, and, with the military salute, thus addressed him:

"Sir, I am an officer of General Price's army, and have brought you a letter under flag of truce."

"Where's your flag of truce?" growled Halleck.

"Here," was the prompt reply, and the Rebel pulled a dirty white rag from his pocket!

He had entered our lines, and come one hundred and fifty miles, without detection, passing pickets, sentinels, guards, and provost-marshals. Halleck, who plumed himself on his organizing capacity and rigid police regulations, was not a little chagrined. He sent back the unique messenger with a letter, assuring Price that he would shoot as a spy any one repeating the attempt.