|Let us now return to General Lyon, whom we left at Jefferson City,
which he had occupied without opposition. The union men gave him a
hearty welcome, while the secessionists received him with many a frown.
Major Conant, of General Lyon's staff, visited the penitentiary, which
was full of convicts, who cheered heartily as he entered. They had hoped
to be liberated when the rebels left town, and no doubt would have been
willing to enter the service as a condition of getting outside the stone
walls that surrounded them. They had been secession in sentiment, but
finding the rebels had gone without them they suddenly changed their
politics and shouted lustily for the Union when the officer representing
the authority of the United States came among them. A few only held out
and cheered for Jeff Davis and Governor Jackson, probably for the reason
that they believed in secession, and especially in secession from where
they were. There was gloom all around when they found that General Lyon
had no intention of setting them free, and that the sole object of the
visit of Major Conant was to see that the prison was properly guarded,
and ascertain that no work on behalf of the rebels was being carried on
there.
The editor of the _Examiner_, a newspaper which had been advocating
secession in the most violent manner, called upon General Lyon, and said
he had been a union man always, and was in favor of keeping the state in
the Union, though he had thought differently only a short time before.
There were several cases of equally sudden conversion, but the general
did not consider these professions-of patriotism anything more than skin
deep. Missouri was full of men of this sort--men who were in favor of
the rebellion at heart, but in presence of the Union flag were the most
profound unionists that the country ever saw.
As soon as it was positively known that the fleeing rebels had decided
to make a stand at Booneville, which was about forty miles from
Jefferson City, General Lyon started in pursuit of them. Loading his
troops on three steamboats, with the exception of three companies of
infantry, which were left to hold possession of Jefferson City,
he started up the Missouri early on the afternoon of Sunday, June
sixteenth, and by sunset reached a point ten or twelve miles below
Booneville, where it was decided to tie up for the night. Bright and
early the next morning the steamers moved on, and were brought to the
bank of the river six or seven miles below Booneville.
The rebels had formed a camp, known as Camp Vest, about half-way between
this landing-place and the town, and as they had several cannon there,
it was not deemed advisable to move the steamboats within their
range until the infantry or artillery of the land forces had made a
demonstration.
In the gray of the morning the troops were landed, and the bank of the
river presented a scene to which it was quite unaccustomed. Officers
were hurrying about here and there; companies were endeavoring to
assemble, as they had become a good deal scattered in the hurry of
getting on shore; the artillery was dragged up the steep slope of the
bank with a vast deal of shouting on the part of the drivers, including
a liberal amount of language that is not usually found in theological
works; the saddle-horses of the officers danced around in endeavoring
to show their satisfaction at getting on land again, and some of them
escaped from the orderlies who were holding them and were retaken with
difficulty. Altogether it was a picture long to be remembered by those
who saw it.
There was no cavalry in the expedition, with the exception of General
Lyon's body-guard of eight or ten Germans who had been specially
enlisted for this purpose. These men, previous to their enlistment, had
been employed in a butchering establishment in St. Louis. The story got
abroad that German butchers had been enlisted for the Union army, and,
as usual, it was magnified with each repetition until it seemed that
every man who wore the national uniform was a professional spiller of
blood. Out of this circumstance grew the most terrific predictions as
to what the butchers would do when they got possession of a place or
marched through any part of the state, and it was for this reason, among
others, that so many people fled in terror when they heard that the
Union army was coming. General Lyon's butchers were as well behaved as
the most fastidious commander could desire; they were good soldiers,
obedient to their commander, and would not harm a fly except in the
performance of their legitimate duty.
Before seven o'clock in the morning the column was in motion, the
cavalry squad in advance and skirmishers thrown out for half a mile or
soon either side. Very soon after leaving the landing-place the road
ascended a series of undulating hills or ridges, and the advance had not
gone far on this road before the pickets of the enemy were driven in.
Then one of the cavalrymen rode hastily back and said that the whole
force of the state troops were drawn up on one of the ridges only a few
hundred yards away. The battle was about to begin!
The regular soldiers and the First Missouri were ordered forward, the
rest of the volunteer regiments were held in reserve, and the battery
commanded by Captain Totten took position in the middle of the road
on one of the ridges in full view of the enemy on the other side of a
wheat-field that filled the greater part of the hollow from ridge to
ridge. On the ridge held by the enemy the road was filled with horsemen,
while the men on foot were deployed to right and left, slightly
protected by fences that divided the fields.
Captain Totten unlimbered a twelve-pounder gun and sent a shell right in
the midst of the group of horsemen in the road.
To say that the shell kicked up a great dust is to describe the result
very mildly. It not only kicked up a dust but it set all the horses to
kicking up, and though it did not kill anybody, as far as was afterwards
ascertained, it emptied a dozen saddles by the rearing and plunging of
the steeds. None of them had ever seen anything of the kind before. It
takes a hardened old horse to stand an exploding shell, and even then
there's some doubt as to whether he will be quiet under such trying
circumstances.
[Illustration: 061]
The opening shot of the artillery was rapidly followed by others, and
then the small-arms added their noise to the firing. Of course the
rebels by this time were doing their best, and the bullets flew thickly,
but as is always the case in battle, most of them were aimed too high.
Here and there a man was wounded, but as General Lyon had ordered all
who were not actually engaged to keep out of range no harm was done
outside the fighting line, and even there the bloodshed was slight.
In twenty minutes from the time the first shot was fired the rebels were
in full retreat and the unionists were following them. Not only were the
rebels in retreat, but they were scattered and a good deal demoralized.
In justice to them it should be said that no commander ever yet existed
who could keep his men completely together in time of flight under an
enemy's fire. Of course veterans will act better than green troops, but
even the hardiest of veterans will straggle under such circumstances.
The fugitives made no stand until they reached their camp, and even
there they did not tarry long. A few rounds of bullets and some shots
from the artillery set them again in flight, which was considerably
aided by one of the steamboats that had moved up from the landing-place
and fired two or three rounds from a howitzer just as it reached a point
opposite the camp. “Cannon to right of them, cannon to left of them,
cannon in front of them,” as the Light Brigade had at Balaklava, was too
much for the rebel troops to stand.
There was something ludicrous in the appearance of the camp, as it bore
evidence of a very hasty departure on the part of its late occupants.
Meat was in the frying-pans on the fire, half-baked beans filled the
camp-ovens, and pots of unboiled coffee were standing ready for the
attention of the cook. On the ground lay a ham with a slice half severed
and a knife still sticking in the meat. The camp-chest of some of the
officers was all spread for breakfast, but those who had expected to
take their morning meal there were now in rapid flight for safety.
A cooked breakfast should not be wasted, so some of our fellows thought,
and they set about devouring what the fugitives had left. Tents were
standing, piles of provisions were heaped up, a good many rifles and
other weapons were scattered on the ground, and altogether the captors
made a satisfactory seizure. One of the officers found several hundred
dollars in a trunk in one of the tents and thoughtfully put the money
in his pocket, in order, as he said, to hand it to the owner in case he
should ever meet and recognize him.