THE BATTLE OF PEA RIDGE.
The Rebels make their Attack.--Albert Pike and his Indians.--Scalping
Wounded Men.--Death of General McCulloch.--The Fighting at Elkhorn
Tavern.--Close of a Gloomy Day.--An Unpleasant Night.--Vocal Sounds
from a Mule's Throat.--Sleeping under Disadvantages.--A Favorable
Morning.--The Opposing Lines of Battle.--A Severe Cannonade.--The
Forest on Fire.--Wounded Men in the Flames.--The Rebels in
Retreat.--Movements of our Army.--A Journey to St. Louis.
About nine o'clock on the morning of the 7th, the Rebels made a
simultaneous attack on our left and front, formerly our right and
rear. General Price commanded the force on our front, and General
McCulloch that on our left; the former having the old Army of
Missouri, re-enforced by several Arkansas regiments, and the latter
having a corps made up of Arkansas, Texas, and Louisiana troops. They
brought into the fight upward of twenty thousand men, while we had not
over twelve thousand with which to oppose them.
The attack on our left was met by General Sigel and Colonel Davis.
That on our front was met by Colonel Carr's Division and the division
of General Asboth. On our left it was severe, though not long
maintained, the position we held being too strong for the enemy to
carry.
It was on this part of the line that the famous Albert Pike, the
lawyer-poet of Arkansas, brought his newly-formed brigades of
Indians into use. Pike was unfortunate with his Indians. While he
was arranging them in line, in a locality where the bushes were about
eight feet in height, the Indians made so much noise as to reveal
their exact position. One of our batteries was quietly placed within
point-blank range of the Indians, and suddenly opened upon them with
grape and canister. They gave a single yell, and scattered without
waiting for orders.
The Indians were not, as a body, again brought together during the
battle. In a charge which our cavalry made upon a Rebel brigade we
were repulsed, leaving several killed and wounded upon the ground.
Some of Pike's Indians, after their dispersal, came upon these, and
scalped the dead and living without distinction. A Rebel officer
subsequently informed me that the same Indians scalped several of
their own slain, and barbarously murdered some who had been only
slightly injured.
On this part of the field we were fortunate, early in the day, in
killing General McCulloch and his best lieutenant, General McIntosh.
To this misfortune the Rebels have since ascribed their easy defeat.
At the time of this reverse to the enemy, General Van Dorn was with.
Price in our front. After their repulse and the death of their leader,
the discomfited Rebels joined their comrades in the front, who had
been more successful. It was nightfall before the two forces were
united.
In our front, Colonel Carr's Division fought steadily and earnestly
during the entire day, but was pressed back fully two-thirds of a
mile. General Curtis gave it what re-enforcements he could, but there
were very few to be spared. When it was fully ascertained that the
Rebels on our left had gone to our front, we prepared to unite against
them. Our left was drawn in to re-enforce Colonel Carr, but the
movement was not completed until long after dark.
Thus night came. The rebels were in full possession of our
communications. We had repulsed them on the left, but lost ground,
guns, and men on our front. The Rebels were holding Elkhorn Tavern,
which we had made great effort to defend. Colonel Carr had repeatedly
wished for either night or re-enforcements. He obtained both.
The commanding officers visited General Curtis's head-quarters,
and received their orders for the morrow. Our whole force was to be
concentrated on our front. If the enemy did not attack us at daylight,
we would attack him as soon thereafter as practicable.
Viewed in its best light, the situation was somewhat gloomy. Mr.
Fayel, of the _Democrat_, and myself were the only journalists
with the army, and the cessation of the day's fighting found us
deliberating on our best course in case of a disastrous result. We
destroyed all documents that could give information to the enemy,
retaining only our note-books, and such papers as pertained to our
profession. With patience and resignation we awaited the events of the
morrow.
I do not know that any of our officers expected we should be
overpowered, but there were many who thought such an occurrence
probable. The enemy was nearly twice as strong as we, and lay directly
between us and our base. If he could hold out till our ammunition was
exhausted, we should be compelled to lay down our arms. There was no
retreat for us. We must be victorious or we must surrender.
In camp, on that night, every thing was confusion. The troops that had
been on the left during the day were being transferred to the front.
The quartermaster was endeavoring to get his train in the least
dangerous place. The opposing lines were so near each other that our
men could easily hear the conversation of the Rebels. The night was
not severely cold; but the men, who were on the front, after a day's
fighting, found it quite uncomfortable. Only in the rear was it
thought prudent to build fires.
The soldiers of German birth were musical. Throughout the night I
repeatedly heard their songs. The soldiers of American parentage
were generally profane, and the few words I heard them utter were the
reverse of musical. Those of Irish origin combined the peculiarities
of both Germans and Americans, with their tendencies in favor of the
latter.
I sought a quiet spot within the limits of the camp, but could not
find it. Lying down in the best place available, I had just fallen
asleep when a mounted orderly rode his horse directly over me. I made
a mild remonstrance, but the man was out of hearing before I spoke.
Soon after, some one lighted a pipe and threw a coal upon my hand.
This drew from me a gentle request for a discontinuance of that
experiment. I believe it was not repeated. During the night Mr.
Fayel's beard took fire, and I was roused to assist in staying the
conflagration.
The vocal music around me was not calculated to encourage drowsiness.
Close at hand was the quartermaster's train, with the mules ready
harnessed for moving in any direction. These mules had not been fed
for two whole days, and it was more than thirty-six hours since they
had taken water. These facts were made known in the best language the
creatures possessed. The bray of a mule is never melodious, even when
the animal's throat is well moistened. When it is parched and dusty
the sound becomes unusually hoarse. Each hour added to the noise as
the thirst of the musicians increased. Mr. Fayel provoked a discussion
concerning the doctrine of the transmigration of souls; and thought,
in the event of its truth, that the wretch was to be pitied who should
pass into a mule in time of war.
With the dawn of day every one was astir. At sunrise I found our
line was not quite ready, though it was nearly so. General Curtis
was confident all would result successfully, and completed the few
arrangements then requiring attention. We had expected the Rebels
would open the attack; but they waited for us to do so. They deserved
many thanks for their courtesy. The smoke of the previous day's fight
still hung over the camp, and the sun rose through it, as through a
cloud. A gentle wind soon dissipated this smoke, and showed us a clear
sky overhead. The direction of the wind was in our favor.
The ground selected for deciding the fate of that day was a huge
cornfield, somewhat exceeding two miles in length and about half a
mile in width. The western extremity of this field rested upon the
ridge which gave name to the battle-ground. The great road from
Springfield to Fayetteville crossed this field about midway from the
eastern to the western end.
It was on this road that the two armies took their positions.
The lines were in the edge of the woods on opposite sides of the
field--the wings of the armies extending to either end. On the
northern side were the Rebels, on the southern was the National army.
Thus each army, sheltered by the forest, had a cleared space in its
front, affording a full view of the enemy.
[Illustration: SHELLING THE HILL AT PEA RIDGE.]
By half-past seven o'clock our line was formed and ready for action. A
little before eight o'clock the cannonade was opened. Our forces
were regularly drawn up in order of battle. Our batteries were placed
between the regiments as they stood in line. In the timber, behind
these regiments and batteries, were the brigades in reserve, ready
to be brought forward in case of need. At the ends of the line were
battalions of cavalry, stretching off to cover the wings, and give
notice of any attempt by the Rebels to move on our flanks. Every five
minutes the bugle of the extreme battalion would sound the signal
"All's well." The signal would be taken by the bugler of the next
battalion, and in this way carried down the line to the center. If
the Rebels had made any attempt to outflank us, we could hardly have
failed to discover it at once.
Our batteries opened; the Rebel batteries responded. Our gunners
proved the best, and our shot had the greatest effect. We had better
ammunition than that of our enemies, and thus reduced the disparity
caused by their excess of guns. Our cannonade was slow and careful;
theirs was rapid, and was made at random. At the end of two hours of
steady, earnest work, we could see that the Rebel line was growing
weaker, while our own was still unshaken. The work of the artillery
was winning us the victory.
In the center of the Rebel line was a rocky hill, eighty or a hundred
feet in height. The side which faced us was almost perpendicular, but
the slope to the rear was easy of ascent. On this hill the Rebels had
stationed two regiments of infantry and a battery of artillery. The
balance of their artillery lay at its base. General Curtis ordered
that the fire of all our batteries should be concentrated on this hill
at a given signal, and continued there for ten minutes. This was done.
At the same time our infantry went forward in a charge on the Rebel
infantry and batteries that stood in the edge of the forest. The
cleared field afforded fine opportunity for the movement.
The charge was successful. The Rebels fell back in disorder, leaving
three guns in our hands, and their dead and wounded scattered on the
ground. This was the end of the battle. We had won the victory at Pea
Ridge.
I followed our advancing forces, and ascended to the summit of the
elevation on which our last fire was concentrated. Wounded men were
gathered in little groups, and the dead were lying thick about them.
The range of our artillery had been excellent. Rocks, trees, and earth
attested the severity of our fire. This cannonade was the decisive
work of the day. It was the final effort of our batteries, and was
terrible while it lasted.
The shells, bursting among the dry leaves, had set the woods on fire,
and the flames were slowly traversing the ground where the battle had
raged. We made every effort to remove the wounded to places of safety,
before the fire should reach them. At that time we thought we had
succeeded. Late in the afternoon I found several wounded men lying in
secluded places, where they had been terribly burned, though they were
still alive. Very few of them survived.
Our loss in this battle was a tenth of our whole force. The enemy lost
more than we in numbers, though less in proportion to his strength.
His position, directly in our rear, would have been fatal to a
defeated army in many other localities. There were numerous small
roads, intersecting the great road at right angles. On these roads the
Rebels made their lines of retreat. Had we sent cavalry in pursuit,
the Rebels would have lost heavily in artillery and in their supply
train. As it was, they escaped without material loss, but they
suffered a defeat which ultimately resulted in our possession of all
Northern Arkansas.
The Rebels retreated across the Boston Mountains to Van Buren and Fort
Smith, and were soon ordered thence to join Beauregard at Corinth.
Our army moved to Keytsville, Missouri, several miles north of the
battle-ground, where the country was better adapted to foraging, and
more favorable to recuperating from the effects of the conflict.
From Keytsville it moved to Forsyth, a small town in Taney County,
Missouri, fifty miles from Springfield. Extending over a considerable
area, the army consumed whatever could be found in the vicinity. It
gave much annoyance to the Rebels by destroying the saltpeter works on
the upper portion of White River.
The saltpeter manufactories along the banks of this stream were of
great importance to the Rebels in the Southwest, and their destruction
seriously reduced the supplies of gunpowder in the armies of Arkansas
and Louisiana. Large quantities of the crude material were shipped
to Memphis and other points, in the early days of the war. At certain
seasons White River is navigable to Forsyth. The Rebels made every
possible use of their opportunities, as long as the stream remained in
their possession.
Half sick in consequence of the hardships of the campaign, and
satisfied there would be no more fighting of importance during the
summer, I determined to go back to civilization. I returned to
St. Louis by way of Springfield and Rolla. A wounded officer,
Lieutenant-Colonel Herron (who afterward wore the stars of a
major-general), was my traveling companion. Six days of weary toil
over rough and muddy roads brought us to the railway, within twelve
hours of St. Louis. It was my last campaign in that region. From that
date the war in the Southwest had its chief interest in the country
east of the Great River.