CAPTURED.
Three weeks later our brigade was ordered to escort an empty supply
train from Camden to Pine Bluff, and we started on April 22, 1864, about
1300 strong, the force consisting of the 43d Indiana, 36th Iowa, 77th
Ohio, one section of the 3d Missouri Battery, and a detachment of the
1st Indiana Cavalry under Major McCauly, the whole commanded by Gen. F.
M. Drake, now Governor of Iowa.
Crossing the Washita river, we camped for the night about three miles
out. The following two days were Saturday and Sunday, and we advanced
little by little, being frequently beset by the enemy, and having
constant skirmishing, until about 2 o'clock on Sunday afternoon, when we
reached Moro river bottom, and camped until the pioneer corps had
completed repairs on the road ahead.
This stream could scarcely be called a river, and yet, when high, it
flooded quite a district. At the time of our crossing it was hard to
tell where the real channel lay, the whole bottom being one vast marsh,
across which was an old corduroy road, or rather a broken line of logs,
some visible and some not. Water was to be seen only in spots, and
there was nothing which had even the appearance of a river, but when one
stepped off the apology for a road he soon found that the earth was
saturated with water, which oozed up like the liquid out of a full
sponge when stepped upon.
[Illustration: GEN. F. M. DRAKE.]
The teamsters were contrary, and would not move until the road was in a
decent condition. They had light wagons, and a little effort on their
part would have enabled us to cross over into the Saline bottom that
night, when the after-events would have been avoided. But the road was
in a bad condition, and it was Sunday afternoon; so we lay there.
Everyone in camp felt a foreboding of evil to come, and when we arose on
Monday morning it was with a feeling of keen apprehension and distrust.
We crossed at will, my company being at the head of the second regiment.
On reaching the solid ground beyond the bog we were met by an aid,
coming back from the leading regiment, and he called out excitedly to
Maj. A. H. Hamilton, who was at the head of our column: "Move your
regiment forward, Major, as fast as possible. The rebs have appeared,
fully 2000 strong."
We hastened on, and, as we gained the higher ground, the rapid shots of
a fierce engagement came to our ears from just over the ridge.
The fight was in the woods, and a hot one. We moved up, and were
deployed, but soon all was confusion. The rebels seemed to be
everywhere, and, after a brief struggle, it became every man for
himself. We had but forty rounds of ammunition with us, and that was
soon exhausted, when we learned that we were cut off from our train in
the rear.
Sergeant John S. Wood and I were standing near a tree, with Private
Jasper Barker between us, and Barker was shot down. We could see that we
were largely outnumbered and that there was no well-regulated fight.
About twenty-three of the fifty-six men in Company B had been killed or
disabled and the rest had no more ammunition. The men on our flanks were
melting away by death and retreat, and we finally gave it up and sought
safety in the rear; but there was no escape, for we were completely
surrounded.
Dodging around, and losing men by capture at every turn, the few of us
left at last had to surrender to a little squad under Sergeant Davis.
They rode down on us, yelling wildly and flourishing their sabres, but
we gave up, with no casualties save the serious injury of Annan L.
Silvey, who broke his gun across a tree when called upon to give it up,
and who received a sabre stroke for his pains. Most of the others had
done the same thing before the rebs came up, when it had been seen that
capture was certain.
The sergeant let me keep my sword, but it was taken away later on.
We were marched along toward a corral which the rebels had made for
their prisoners, and on the way we had to submit to involuntary trades
with our captors for what they chose to give us in return for anything
of ours which they saw and fancied.
One fellow made a grab for my hat, but his grasp was eluded with a quick
motion and a "No you don't," but the latter remark had scarcely been
uttered when an enormous fellow, who wore a big, greasy sombrero with
flapping rim, reached out a hand that seemed as large as a small ham,
with "By God, Yank, _I_ will!"
And he did, his great, broad-rimmed hat being forced down over my ears
with a force which made my head ache--at least I think it was the force,
but my head ached steadily until that hat had been exchanged for
another.
A rebel major came up, and, seeing our captors taking from the prisoners
all personal property of value, remonstrated with the offenders, in many
cases causing the purloined goods to be returned. He then offered to
receive in trust any articles which any officer might see fit to deposit
with him for safe keeping, and to give his receipt for them. This offer
seemed to be so kind that a general rush was made to take advantage of
it, and the major was soon loaded up with a general assortment of
personal effects. There can be no doubt as to the safe keeping of the
valuables, for they are still in his possession so far as known to the
depositors.
The sergeant had not interfered with the promiscuous plundering, but he
was inclined to be friendly, and we learned that the force that had
captured us was a young army of 7000 mounted infantry that had been sent
by Kirby Smith, after his defeat of Banks, to help in the effort to
gather in General Steele.
Had we crossed the river on Sunday they would have missed us. As it was,
we simply marched right into their open arms, and were enfolded as
gracefully and fraternally as could have been expected under the
circumstances.
Further talk drew from our captor that he had a mother living in
Missouri, where Confederate money was no good, and that he was anxious
to send her some greenbacks. Knowing that we were booked for a rebel
prison, Davis was enabled to supply his mother with the desired funds by
an exchange with some of our boys, who brought forth greenbacks from
various hiding places when the object was made known, and the man did us
several kindnesses in return. We became quite well acquainted before our
separation.
Reaching the corral, or bull pen, as it was more generally called, I
recovered from the sorrow and despair which only my efforts to get on
the right side of our captors had kept from weighing me down, when I
found that it was a most general "round-up." Very few of the command had
escaped. Of Company B we counted thirty-five, two of whom were wounded.
Nearly all the others had had a similar experience, and it soon became
apparent that the proper thing to do was to make the best of a bad job
and to watch for a chance to get away.
Company B had ten pairs of brothers on the rolls, of whom eight pairs
were separated by death; but we will not dwell upon the dark side of
matters. Most of our captors had cloaked their robbery of us with a
pretense of trading, but in nearly every case the article offered for
exchange was of no comparative value.
Some of us began joking each other about our losses, some accepting the
jokes in good part, some being angry, and some too dispirited to care
what was going on.
It always has been a principle of mine to look at the bright side of
matters, and to find it if none such appeared on the surface. Several
others were of the same mind, and we had considerable fun--at least I
had--until one of the party began questioning me too closely.
Our lieutenant had bought a horse just before the fight, and in the
morning, as we had started on our march, I had offered to give him my
watch for the animal. He had agreed to this, and I had then given one
of my men, who was marching in his bare feet, an opportunity to ride.
Soon after, we had found a pair of boots lying just off the road, and
the rider once more had his feet encased in a proper covering. When we
had gone into action this man had ridden up and taken his place in the
line. Having the horse on my hands, and seeing one of our general's
black servants standing behind us, I had turned the horse over to him,
giving instructions that he should be kept out of the way of harm. Both
horse and rider had disappeared, and had kept out of harm, and further,
sight as well. There could be no doubt but what my horse was gone for
good, either to the rebels or elsewhere. My claim that the rebels had
not taken my watch was soon explained by cross-questioning. When I had
to admit this, I suddenly remembered that a friend of mine in one of the
other regiments had not shown up, and I went off to look for him. Those
fellows had no appreciation of humor, anyway, unless someone else was
the object of remarks!
The prisoners were herded together and counted, checked off and then
recounted. All the male negroes among our troops and with the train had
been killed, and the women and children were huddled in with us.
There had been several citizens with the escort, mostly cotton
speculators. Two of the latter, with whom I had talked while en route,
were now close to me in the counting, and I learned that one had been
forced to give up $140,000 in cash to rebel soldiers, who had traded
boots with him and had given him a pair so much too short as to
necessitate the cutting out of the toes in order to give room to the
toes of his feet. He now stood next to me, the most disconsolate-looking
person imaginable, with his long toes sticking out of his boots so far
as to enable him to touch the ground with them by slight effort. The
other had had $120,000 with him, but had buried it during the fight,
marking the spot. As we have no more to do with these men, it may be
said here that the latter recovered his money later, going for it under
the flag of truce while the dead were being buried.
The only event of the day which had the power to overcome the resolution
I had made to be cheerful, despite all the horror and disaster, occurred
while we were quietly standing there, awaiting the final count, when we
suddenly caught sight of an approaching body of rebels bearing a lot of
captured flags, among which I recognized our own, all torn and
disfigured as it was, the very scars enabling the recognition.
We can talk lightly of a flag as being only a distinguishing mark or
emblem, but its true emblematic character is not realized until some
occasion arises to impress upon us what is meant by the flag of our
country.
When my gaze rested upon that shot-torn flag all the memories of its
associations flashed through my mind in an instant, as well as the full
realization of what its possession would mean to us and what its absence
signified. Words cannot express my feelings. I looked around me for a
moment, and, meeting the eye of one of our men looking at me, his
countenance twitching and his eyes filled with tears, I broke down
completely and sobbed like a child for a few minutes.
O ye men, who have only looked upon our country's flag as a pretty
emblem! You, who only think of it as a necessary distinguishing mark
among nations! And the many who never think of it as anything except a
piece of bunting! Be ye once in a position where inability to possess
that strip of colored fabric means privation, loss of liberty,
separation from home and friends, possibly death, and you will then
realize what it means to you as no language can depict!