|Careful students of the war did not fail to see that there was a
systematic advance along the whole line from Virginia to Missouri during
the early part of February, 1862. During the winter work on the gun-boat
fleet had been vigorously pushed and many steamboats purchased or hired
as transports. As fast as the ironclads were ready to move they were
sent to Cairo, Illinois where the transports were assembled and vast
amounts of stores had been accumulated. General Grant was in command at
Cairo, and that aqueous town was a vast encampment. At the same time the
army at Rolla had been strengthened, as we have already seen, and the
movement of each force was practically simultaneous.
Nor was this all. From Washington the army moved into Virginia, and the
checkered campaign of 1862 began. Then a fleet and an army went down the
Atlantic coast and captured New-Berne, North Carolina, and farther down
the coast there was an aggressive move against Charleston. Then at the
mouth of the Mississippi a fleet of war ships appeared, backed by a
fleet of transports carrying a land force ready to occupy and hold
whatever the fleet secured. In Kentucky the Army of the Ohio occupied
Bowling Green, and prepared to move upon Nashville.
The first success along the whole line of attack was when on the sixth
of February the fleet under Admiral Foote bombarded Fort Henry and
compelled its surrender. Then followed the attack on Fort Donelson, when
General Grant “moved immediately upon the works” of General Buckner and
took him a prisoner, together with all those of his garrison that could
not escape. The whole North was in a blaze of excitement as the news was
published in the papers, which appeared in the form of “Extras,” with
a great many lines of heading to a very few lines of news. Such a
sensation had not happened since the battle of Bull Run, in the previous
year--and, unlike that of Bull Run, the story was one of victory and not
of disaster.
The effect of the news in a city like St. Louis, whose population was
divided in sentiment, was a curious study to the outsider. A man's
sympathies could be known half a block away by the expression of his
face and the air with which he greeted his friends. If he was for the
Union his head was high in the air and his countenance showed him to be
“smiling all over;” but if he sympathized with the rebellion, his steps
were sad and slow and his head was downcast, as though he had lost a ten
cent piece or a diamond ring, and was on the lookout to find it. There
was no occasion to ask a man how he felt; the subject was too momentous
to permit him to conceal his thoughts.
When the newsboys appeared with the extras they were eagerly patronized
by the Union men and as eagerly repelled by the Secessionists. One boy
had the temerity to enter the store of a noted Secessionist and shout
in stentorian tones, “'Ere's yer extra; all about the capture of Fort
Donelson!”
That boy soon had reason to believe that his presence was not desired
there and his wares were unwelcome. He sold no papers in that store, and
moreover he was ejected from it a moment after entering on the toe of a
number ten boot. His ejectment was no trifling matter as it carried him
quite to the edge of the sidewalk. He got up again, as though nothing
had happened, and went on with his business as usual.
It is sad to record that there was a great deal of drinking in St. Louis
over the result of Grant's movement against Donelson. The Union men
drank in joy and congratulation, while the Secessionists did likewise
to drown their sorrow. In Chicago and other Northern cities the drinking
was more one-sided than in St. Louis, but the average to each inhabitant
was not greater.
It is said that on some of the dead-walls of Chicago the day of the
fall of Donelson a placard was posted to the effect that every man found
sober at nine o'clock in the evening would be arrested for disloyalty.
History does not record that there were any arrests in Chicago that day
for disloyalty. Whether there was anybody around at that hour capable of
making arrests is also without record.
Having thus taken a general survey of the field, we will return to Jack
and Harry, whom we left with the Army of the Southwest.
The army moved, as before stated, and encountered no opposition as it
advanced beyond the Gasconade river and occupied the town of Lebanon,
sixty-five miles from Rolla. Harry called Jack's attention to the
desolation that seemed to prevail along the route, compared with what
the road was when they first saw it on the retreat from Wilson's Creek.
Many houses had been burned, and many of those that escaped the torch
were without occupants. In every instance where inquiry was made it was
found that the burned or deserted house had been the property of a Union
citizen who had been driven away by his rebel neighbors or by scouting
parties from Price's army.
The few people that remained were almost destitute of food, and it was
next to impossible to obtain feed for horses. The country had suffered
terribly from the ravages of war, and was destined to suffer still
further before the war ended. As long as the war lasted it was infested
by roving bands of guerrillas, although the regular armies of the
Confederacy had been forced much farther to the south. At first the
Secessionists encouraged the presence of these guerrillas, but after a
time they found their exactions so great that they would gladly have rid
themselves of their so-called “friends.”
The roads were bad and the march was slow, but in spite of the bad roads
and the wintry weather the army pushed forward resolutely. Jack and
Harry found themselves covered with mud at the end of every day's march,
and as they were frequently sent with scouting parties away from the
road, their horses as well as themselves were pretty well used up when
night arrived; but they came out as lively as ever the next morning, and
the horses seemed to echo the words of their young masters, that they
were having a good time.
On one of their scouting expeditions they stopped at a house whose
owner boasted that he had built it himself and lived in it for seventeen
years, and though it wasn't equal to some of the fine houses in
Springfield or Lebanon, it was as good as he wanted. It was built of
logs, like the ordinary frontier dwelling, and consisted of a single
room, where the family of six persons lived, ate and slept. It had a
door but no window, and in order to have light in the daytime it was
necessary to keep the door open, no matter how cold the weather might
be. Near the house was a smaller one of the same sort, and this was
occupied by three negroes, the slaves of the owner of the place.
Harry found on inquiry that the man had bought these slaves from the
money he had saved by selling the produce of his farm, preferring to
invest in this kind of property rather than build a more comfortable
house, with glass windows and other luxuries. One of the slaves was cook
and housemaid, the second was the family nurse, and the third, a man
about fifty years old, attended to the stable and out-door work in
general. The master worked in the field with his colored property, but
he said that when he had “two more niggers” he would have all his time
taken up looking after them. Naturally he was in sympathy with the
rebellion, and did not believe in the Yankees and Dutch coming along and
setting the slaves free.
The black man watched for a chance to speak to one of the boys, and
after a little maneuvering he managed to do so without being seen by his
master.
“Ef you Linkum folks wants to find some rebs,” said the darkey to Harry,
with a grin, “I knows whar you 'll find'em.”
“Where's that?”
“You jest go down dis yere road about a mile and you 'll find some of'em
with a wagon load o' pork dey's takin' to Price's army.”
“How many rebs are there with the wagon?”
“Dere's six on'em--t'ree is on horses and t'ree in der wagon. Dey's been
gettin' dat pork round yar, and hain't been gone more'n half an hour. I
knows dey's going ter stop at der creek to fix one of de wheels, and you
'll find'em dar. Don't let on wher yer found'em out.”
“Of course not,” was the reply. “We 'll keep you all safe. Now clear
out, and don't look at us to see which way we go.”
There were six of them in the scouting party, and they were entirely
able to cope with the escort of the wagon. Harry slipped to the side of
the sergeant in command and said they'd better be off, and he would then
tell him why.
The sergeant then said to his men that it was time to be getting back,
and gave the order for mounting. At the end of the little lane where
the house stood they stopped for consultation, Harry telling what he
had learned, and suggesting, that in order to divert suspicion, they had
best start the other way and then suddenly turn about as though a new
idea had occurred to them.
The sergeant acted under Harry's suggestion. The party went half-a-dozen
rods one way and then turned about and cantered slowly down the road in
the direction indicated by the negro.
“Steady, now, boys,” said the sergeant. “Don't pump your horses, but
keep them fresh for a dash when we want to make it.”
So they went gently along, Harry keeping a little in advance to watch
out for the wagon of which they were in search. The road rose and fell
over the undulations of the ground, and when they had gone about a mile
it was evident that they were coming to a depression, which was probably
the bed of the creek.
Harry hugged the trees at the side of the road, so as to screen himself
from sight. His horse pricked his ears and evidently scented the
presence of other animals of his race.
A few more steps in advance and the wagon was in sight. It was standing
close to the creek, and the men were busy adjusting one of the wheels,
the three horsemen having dismounted and tied their steeds to some trees
a dozen yards away.
The sergeant gave the order to advance at a walk, and if possible get
between the men and their horses before the presence of an enemy was
discovered. As soon as they were seen they would go in with a dash.
They were not able to carry out the plan completely, but for all
practical purposes it succeeded. When the first of the rebel party saw
the advancing Federals they had not time to secure their horses. The
sergeant gave the order for an advance, and in the squad dashed, in fine
style.
[Illustration: 175]
The sergeant had told Jack to get hold of the saddle-horses the first
thing, and he did so. The rest of the party surrounded the wagon. The
rebels showed fight, but, taken at a disadvantage and with the carbines
of the cavalrymen aimed at them, they surrendered before any blood
had been spilt, but not without an exchange of shots, of which Harry
received one through the sleeve of his coat.
The prisoners were secured and marched back in the direction of the road
where the army was on its march. The wheel was speedily adjusted, and
then Harry mounted the box of the wagon and soon made the four mules
that comprised its team understand their duty. The captured horses were
led behind the wagon along with Harry's horse. Without further adventure
the party reached the camp, and the pork intended for Price's army found
its way down the throats of General Vandever's soldiers.