TWO MONTHS OF IDLENESS.
A Promise Fulfilled.--Capture of a Rebel Camp and Train.--Rebel
Sympathizers in St. Louis.--General Halleck and his Policy.--Refugees
from Rebeldom.--Story of the Sufferings of a Union Family.--Chivalry
in the Nineteenth Century.--The Army of the Southwest in
Motion.--Gun-Boats and Transports.--Capture of Fort Henry.--The Effect
in St. Louis.--Our Flag Advancing.
Early in the December following the events narrated in the last
chapter, General Pope captured a camp in the interior of the State,
where recruits were being collected for Price's army. After the return
of Fremont's army from Springfield, the Rebels boasted they would eat
their Christmas dinner in St. Louis. Many Secessionists were
making preparations to receive Price and his army, and some of them
prophesied the time of their arrival. It was known that a goodly
number of Rebel flags had been made ready to hang out when the
conquerors should come. Sympathizers with the Rebellion became bold,
and often displayed badges, rosettes, and small flags, indicative of
their feelings. Recruiting for the Rebel army went on, very quietly,
of course, within a hundred yards of the City Hall. At a fair for
the benefit of the Orphan Asylum, the ladies openly displayed Rebel
insignia, but carefully excluded the National emblems.
This was the state of affairs when eight hundred Rebels arrived in St.
Louis. They redeemed their promise to enjoy a Christmas dinner in St.
Louis, though they had counted upon more freedom than they were then
able to obtain. In order that they might carry out, in part, their
original intention, their kind-hearted jailers permitted the friends
of the prisoners to send a dinner to the latter on Christmas Day. The
prisoners partook of the repast with much relish.
The capture of those recruits was accompanied by the seizure of a
supply train on its way to Springfield. Our success served to diminish
the Rebel threats to capture St. Louis, or perform other great and
chivalric deeds. The inhabitants of that city continued to prophesy
its fall, but they were less defiant than before.
General Fremont commanded the Western Department for just a hundred
days. General Hunter, his successor, was dressed in brief authority
for fifteen days, and yielded to General Halleck. The latter officer
endeavored to make his rule as unlike that of General Fremont as could
well be done. He quietly made his head-quarters at the Government
Buildings, in the center of St. Louis, instead of occupying a
"palatial mansion" on Chouteau Avenue. The body-guard, or other
cumbersome escort, was abolished, and the new general moved unattended
about the city. Where General Fremont had scattered the Government
funds with a wasteful hand, General Halleck studied economy. Where
Fremont had declared freedom to the slaves of traitors, Halleck issued
his famous "Order No. 3," forbidding fugitive slaves to enter our
lines, and excluding all that were then in the military camps. Where
General Fremont had surrounded his head-quarters with so great a
retinue of guards that access was almost impossible, General Halleck
made it easy for all visitors to see him. He generally gave them such
a reception that few gentlemen felt inclined to make a second call.
The policy of scattering the military forces in the department was
abandoned, and a system of concentration adopted. The construction
of the gun-boat fleet, and accompanying mortar-rafts, was vigorously
pushed, and preparations for military work in the ensuing spring went
on in all directions. Our armies were really idle, and we were doing
very little on the Mississippi; but it was easy to see that we were
making ready for the most vigorous activity in the future.
In the latter part of December many refugees from the Southwest began
to arrive in St. Louis. In most cases they were of the poorer class of
the inhabitants of Missouri and Northern Arkansas, and had been driven
from their homes by their wealthier and disloyal neighbors. Their
stories varied little from each other. Known or suspected to be loyal,
they were summarily expelled, generally with the loss of every thing,
save a few articles of necessity. There were many women and children
among them, whose protectors had been driven into the Rebel ranks, or
murdered in cold blood. Many of them died soon after they reached our
lines, and there were large numbers who perished on their way.
Among those who arrived early in January, 1862, was a man from
Northern Arkansas. Born in Pennsylvania, he emigrated to the Southwest
in 1830, and, after a few years' wandering, settled near Fayetteville.
When the war broke out, he had a small farm and a comfortable house,
and his two sons were married and living near him.
In the autumn of '61, his elder son was impressed into the Rebel
service, where he soon died. The younger was ordered to report at
Fayetteville, for duty. Failing to do so on the day specified, he was
shot down in his own house on the following night. His body fell upon
one of his children standing near him, and his blood saturated its
garments.
The day following, the widow, with two small children, was notified
to leave the dwelling, as orders had been issued for its destruction.
Giving her no time to remove any thing, the Rebel soldiers, claiming
to act under military command, fired the house. In this party were two
persons who had been well acquainted with the murdered man. The widow
sought shelter with her husband's parents.
The widow of the elder son went to the same place of refuge. Thus
there were living, under one roof, the old man, his wife, a daughter
of seventeen, and the two widows, one with two, and the other with
three, children. A week afterward, all were commanded to leave the
country. No cause was assigned, beyond the fact that the man was
born in the North, and had been harboring the family of his son, who
refused to serve in the Rebel ranks. They were told they could have
two days for preparation, but within ten hours of the time the notice
was served, a gang of Rebels appeared at the door, and ordered an
instant departure.
They made a rigid search of the persons of the refugees, to be sure
they took away nothing of value. Only a single wagon was allowed, and
in this were placed a few articles of necessity. As they moved away,
the Rebels applied the torch to the house and its out-buildings. In
a few moments all were in flames. The house of the elder son's widow
shared the same fete.
They were followed to the Missouri line, and ordered to make no halt
under penalty of death. It was more than two hundred miles to our
lines, and winter was just beginning. One after another fell ill and
died, or was left with Union people along the way. Only four of the
party reached our army at Rolla. Two of these died a few days after
their arrival, leaving only a young child and its grandfather. At St.
Louis the survivors were kindly cared for, but the grief at leaving
home, the hardships of the winter journey, and their destitution among
strangers, had so worn upon them that they soon followed the other
members of their family.
There have been thousands of cases nearly parallel to the above. The
Rebels claimed to be fighting for political freedom, and charged the
National Government with the most unheard-of "tyranny." We can well
be excused for not countenancing a political freedom that kills men
at their firesides, and drives women and children to seek protection
under another flag. We have heard much, in the past twenty years, of
"Southern chivalry." If the deeds of which the Rebels were guilty
are characteristic of chivalry, who would wish to be a son of the
Cavaliers? The insignia worn in the Middle Ages are set aside, to
make room for the torch and the knife. The chivalry that deliberately
starves its prisoners, to render them unable to return to the field,
and sends blood-hounds on the track of those who attempt an escape
from their hands, is the chivalry of modern days. Winder is the
Coeur-de-Leon, and Quantrel the Bayard, of the nineteenth century;
knights "without fear and without reproach."
Early in January, the Army of the Southwest, under General Curtis,
was put in condition for moving. Orders were issued cutting down
the allowance of transportation, and throwing away every thing
superfluous. Colonel Carr, with a cavalry division, was sent to the
line of the Gasconade, to watch the movements of the enemy. It was the
preliminary to the march into Arkansas, which resulted in the
battle of Pea Ridge and the famous campaign of General Curtis from
Springfield to Helena.
As fast as possible, the gun-boat fleet was pushed to completion. One
after another, as the iron-clads were ready to move, they made their
rendezvous at Cairo. Advertisements of the quartermaster's department,
calling for a large number of transports, showed that offensive
movements were to take place. In February, Fort Henry fell, after an
hour's shelling from Admiral Foote's gun-boats. This opened the way up
the Tennessee River to a position on the flank of Columbus, Kentucky,
and was followed by the evacuation of that point.
I was in St. Louis on the day the news of the fall of Fort Henry was
received. The newspapers issued "extras," with astonishing head-lines.
It was the first gratifying intelligence after a long winter of
inactivity, following a year which, closed with general reverses to
our arms.
In walking the principal streets of St. Louis on that occasion, I
could easily distinguish the loyal men of my acquaintance from the
disloyal, at half a square's distance. The former were excited with
delight; the latter were downcast with sorrow. The Union men walked
rapidly, with, faces "wreathed in smiles;" the Secessionists moved
with alternate slow and quick steps, while their countenances
expressed all the sad emotions.
The newsboys with the tidings of our success were patronized by
the one and repelled by the other. I saw one of the venders of
intelligence enter the store of a noted Secessionist, where he shouted
the nature of the news at the highest note of his voice. A
moment later he emerged from the door, bringing the impress of a
Secessionist's boot.
The day and the night witnessed much hilarity in loyal circles, and a
corresponding gloom in quarters where treason ruled. I fear there
were many men in St. Louis whose conduct was no recommendation to the
membership of a temperance society.
All felt that a new era had dawned upon us. Soon after came the
tidings of a general advance of our armies. We moved in Virginia,
and made the beginning of the checkered campaign of '62. Along the
Atlantic coast we moved, and Newbern fell into our hands. Further
down the Atlantic, and at the mouth of the Mississippi, we kept up
the aggression. Grant, at Donelson, "moved immediately upon Buckner's
works;" and, in Kentucky, the Army of the Ohio occupied Bowling Green
and prepared to move upon Nashville. In Missouri, Curtis had
already occupied Lebanon, and was making ready to assault Price at
Springfield. Everywhere our flag was going forward.