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.