CAPTURING A TRAIN
It took Lawrence some little time to reorganize his troop, and to fill
the places of those who fell in the fight with Red Jerry.
At last all was ready and the start was made. To reach General Blunt by
the circuitous route he intended to take would mean a journey of nearly
four hundred miles, much of the way through a country not occupied by
Federal troops. The guerrilla bands infesting this country were small,
however, and he considered that with his fifty men he would be able to
cope with any force he might meet.
For subsistence he would have to depend on the country through which he
passed. He knew it was sparsely settled, but as his force was small, and
the corn crop had ripened, he believed neither his men nor horses would
suffer for food.
To Lawrence the mountain scenery was a continual source of delight. It
was November, and the leaves of the forest covering the mountain sides
and crowning their summits had been touched by the frost, and painted in
all colors of the rainbow. It was a magnificent panorama and on so
tremendous a scale that all the works of man seemed as nothing in
comparison.
Occasionally a small band of guerrillas was seen, but at sight of the
Federals they scurried into the hills and were soon lost to view. Only
one band attempted to show fight and they were quickly routed with one
killed and two wounded, left on the field. One of these stated that the
band was commanded by a man called Big Tom, who was wounded early in the
action, how badly he did not know.[16]
[Footnote 16: This wound prevented Big Tom for some months from carrying
out his contemplated revenge against the Chittendens.]
One day Lawrence stood on a hill overlooking the valley of La Belle. He
thought he had never gazed on so lovely a scene, and he wondered who it
was who had made his home in that peaceful valley. That it was a home of
refinement and luxury was apparent.
As he was looking, to his astonishment, what seemed to be an army came
pouring into the valley from the north. It was a motley army, without
uniforms, without banners and many without arms. Accompanying the army
was a long train composed of every kind of vehicle, from carriages to
farm wagons. There was no order in the march, everyone seemed to be
traveling as pleased him best.
For a moment Lawrence wondered what it could mean, and then he knew. He
had stumbled on the secret route through the Ozarks through which
recruits for the South passed. Before Lawrence started on his raid it
had been known for some time that numerous small bodies of guerrillas
had been gathering, and were making their way to some secret rendezvous,
from which they were to start to join Porter in Arkansas.
"How many do you suppose there are?" asked Lawrence of Dan.
"About four or five hundred, I should say."
"Do you think we can handle them?"
"Don't see any reason why we can't," drawled Dan. "Reckon half of them
will die of fright when they see us."
Arrangements were quickly made. They were to make a sudden dash and ride
the full length of the line, ordering those who had arms to give them
up.
Riding into the valley the troop, whooping and yelling like mad men,
suddenly dashed upon the unsuspecting recruits. If an army had fallen
from the sky they could not have been more astonished. Consternation
seized them, and many, leaving everything, fled for the hills, but the
greater part of them surrendered, begging for mercy. Not a shot was
fired. It was a bloodless victory.
The prisoners were gathered together; they numbered nearly four hundred.
Being deprived of all arms, they were powerless. What to do with them
was the question.
"The only thing we can do," said Lawrence, "is to parole them."
"And they will keep their parole just as long as we are in sight and no
longer," growled Dan.
"Can't help it. It's the only thing we can do."
The train was now thoroughly searched and many of the wagons were found
to contain cloth, boots and shoes, and a goodly quantity of powder and
shot. All such articles were destroyed and the wagons burnt. The
prisoners looked on sullenly.
Lawrence noticed there was a scarcity of provisions, and inquired what
it meant. One of the prisoners told him they were suffering from hunger,
but had been told they would find plenty of food here in the valley of
the La Belle. "We 'uns be jes' starvin'," said the prisoner.
"I will see what I can do," said Lawrence. "If there is food here you
will surely get it."
About this time Mr. Chittenden appeared. There had been great excitement
at the house when it was known that the Yankees were in the valley and
had succeeded in capturing the train. Mr. Chittenden feared that if it
became known that he had gathered supplies for the South, not only would
he be arrested, but his home and buildings burned.
"I reckon," he said to Grace, "that I will ride down and see what force
it is, and who is in command."
"Don't go, father," begged Grace. "You know what you have been doing."
"It is best, Grace. They may not find it out, and if they do, it won't
mend matters for me to stay here."
"But, father, you can take to the hills until they are gone."
"What! Leave you here unprotected? Never!"
"Where is Mark?" asked Grace. "I have not seen him for three or four
days."
"Gone off on some secret expedition. Said he might be gone several days.
Grace, I believe he is trailing Big Tom. He has an idea he will return
and wreak his vengeance on us."
Grace turned pale. "What! Mark gone, all alone?" she asked.
"Yes. Mark seems to prefer to go alone. I don't think we are in as much
danger from Big Tom as he thinks, but there is no telling. Some of these
guerrilla bands are nothing more or less than robbers, and they care
little whom they rob. But I must go now. Don't worry. I won't be long."
Mr. Chittenden was gone some two hours, and when he returned he did not
seem in the best of spirits. Grace had been anxiously waiting his
return.
"How is it, father?" she cried. "I thought I saw smoke."
"Yes, they have burned a great deal of the train," answered Mr.
Chittenden, gloomily. "The worst part of it is, it is only a small
scouting party that has done the mischief--not over fifty men--and they
have captured four hundred prisoners without firing a gun."
"That doesn't look as if one Southern man could whip ten Yankees,"
replied Grace, with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Grace, I believe you are glad that train was captured," said her
father, with more feeling than he had ever manifested toward her.
"I surely am," replied Grace, undaunted. "You well know I am for the
Union."
"Grace, beware! Don't trespass on my love for you too much. Perhaps you
will rejoice when I am arrested and dragged off to prison."
"You arrested! You dragged off to prison! Father, what do you mean?"
gasped Grace, now thoroughly alarmed.
"It means that your dear friends, the Yankees, have found out that I
have been gathering supplies for this train. The officer in command has
ordered me to turn over everything I have gathered, and threatened to
arrest me for being an agent of the South."
"What will be done with all the food and forage you have gathered? Will
it be destroyed?" asked Grace.
"No; not all of it, anyway. The captured men are without food and nearly
starving. They have been, or will be, paroled and turned back north.
They will be given the food for their return journey to Rolla, where
they have been ordered to report."
"Why, father, that is grand. The very ones will get the food that you
have gathered it for. The officer in command must be a gentleman. What
is he like?"
"He is young--not much more than a boy. He seems to know his business;
has perfect control over his men. Moreover, he has the appearance of a
gentleman. But you can see for yourself, Grace, for I have invited him
and his Lieutenant to take supper with us tonight. And--and, Grace, I
will not object to your making known your true sentiments. It may save
me from a Federal prison."
"Father, if they arrest you, they will have to arrest me, too. I will be
the worst rebel in the State. But, father, they won't arrest you. What
have you done?"
"What have I done, child? Has not this house been a rendezvous for those
passing to and fro between this State and Arkansas? Has not many a plot
been hatched right here? Grace, if everything were known, I should not
only be arrested, but this house would be burned and the valley rendered
desolate. I am afraid this young Captain knows more than he lets on. But
there he comes now, with a lot of wagons for the provisions."
The next two hours were busy ones. A detail of prisoners, under guard,
was made to load the wagons, and a herd of beef cattle was driven down.
The prisoners feasted that night as they had not in many a day. In fact,
many of them were not sorry that they had been made prisoners.
When Lawrence and Dan went to keep their engagement to dine with Mr.
Chittenden, they met with as cordial a reception as could be expected
under the circumstances. Mr. Chittenden was deeply chagrined over the
loss of the supplies he had gathered, but he concealed his
disappointment as much as possible.
The meal was all that could be desired. Tilly had surpassed herself. To
cook for Yankees was to her a new experience. They were the men who were
to free her race, and she looked upon them as almost divine beings.
Grace presided at the head of the table, and more than one glance did
Lawrence cast at the lovely girl.
"You have a beautiful home here, Mr. Chittenden," said Lawrence. "I
almost envy you. In the spring and summer it must be as near Arcadia as
one gets in this world. The scenery is magnificent. I never saw a more
beautiful sight than the mountains, covered with their flaming foliage."
"Yes, I like it," replied Mr. Chittenden. "I chanced on the valley many
years ago, while hunting, and resolved to make it my home. So wild and
unsettled was the country then, that for some years I had to get all my
supplies from St. Louis."
"What a mercy it is that the ravages of war so far have left it almost
untouched," answered Lawrence.
"You are the first Yankees who have favored us with a visit," replied
Mr. Chittenden, "and pardon me, but I trust you will be the last. But if
we are to be visited again, I hope it will be by your troop, Captain,
for, under the circumstances, you have been very kind. I hear fearful
stories of ravages committed in other parts of the State."
"Missouri certainly has had her share of the war," replied Lawrence,
"but it is the guerrilla warfare that has caused it. I trust you have
seen little of it here. Are there many Union men residing among these
hills?"
Mr. Chittenden hesitated, then replied: "We did have a few Union men in
these parts, but the sentiment was so strong against them that many of
them were forced to leave. I do not believe in guerrilla warfare, but am
powerless to prevent it."
"From the train I captured," said Lawrence, "I would say you were not a
stranger to Confederate troops; in fact, I have learned that this valley
is a gateway between Missouri and Arkansas, and that many of the
guerrillas we drive out of the northern and central part of the State
pass through here, and no doubt many pass back the same way."
Mr. Chittenden winced. "I cannot prevent Confederate troops passing
through here," he said, "any more than I can prevent you passing
through. I admit my heart is with the South, and I do what little I can
to help her; but I am sorry to say I have a traitor in my own
household--my daughter here."
"What! Your daughter?" cried Lawrence, in surprise, and he looked at
Grace with renewed interest.
"Yes, my daughter; she is heart and soul with you Yankees."
Grace was covered with confusion, and started to rise and leave the
table.
"Please don't go, Miss Chittenden," begged Lawrence. "Let me hear from
your lips that you love the flag of our common country."
"I hate to differ with father," said Grace, "but I do love the flag.
Born and living here as free as the birds of the air, I learned to love
freedom. I think this is a wicked, wicked war, waged to perpetuate
slavery and to destroy the Union. Father and I don't quarrel. He says I
am a girl, and it does not matter much what I believe. That may be; but
there is one Union flag still cherished in the Ozarks," and as she said
it she put her hand in her bosom and drew forth the little flag she had
made in St. Louis. "There is not a day," she continued, "that I don't go
out and hold it aloft, that it may be kissed by the winds of heaven, and
I pray the day will soon come when it will wave over a reunited
country."
Lawrence and Dan could hardly refrain from shouting aloud; even Mr.
Chittenden was surprised at the feeling Grace showed.
"There, Grace, that will do," he said, crossly. "Don't make----"
Lawrence stopped him. "Mr. Chittenden," he exclaimed, "I congratulate
you on having such a daughter, and you can be thankful that you have."
"I do not see why," answered Mr. Chittenden; "but I am thankful that
Grace has until now kept her opinions to herself. It would be rather
awkward for me to have it generally known."
Grace was excused, and the men, over their cigars, entered into a
general discussion of the war, and how it would terminate, Mr.
Chittenden holding that the independence of the South was already as
good as secured.
As they were about to go, Lawrence said: "Mr. Chittenden, you may think
it a poor return for your hospitality, but I came here tonight with the
full intention of arresting you."
Mr. Chittenden could only gasp, "What for?"
"Because you are a dangerous man to the cause I serve. I have learned
much while I have been here. Not only are you an agent of the
Confederate Government to gather supplies, but your house has been a
haven for some of the worst guerrillas which infest the State. Even the
infamous Porter found rest and shelter here when he fled South."
Mr. Chittenden stood pale and trembling, for he knew Lawrence was
speaking the truth; but he was thinking more of Grace than of himself.
"My God! what will become of my daughter, if I am dragged away to a
Federal prison?" he cried.
"Mr. Chittenden, do not fear," answered Lawrence. "I can never arrest
the father of such a girl as your daughter, and leave her unprotected.
She has saved you, and for her sake be more careful in the future."
"For her sake, I thank you; for myself, I have no apologies to make for
what I have done," Mr. Chittenden replied, somewhat haughtily. But in
his heart he was not sorry Grace had displayed that little flag.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Lawrence, when he and Dan were alone. "What a girl!
She is grand, and such a lady. Who would dream of finding such a girl in
the Ozarks? And she is as lovely as a picture--more beautiful than many
who reign as belles in St. Louis."
"Look here, Captain," said Dan, solemnly, "don't be falling in love with
every pretty face you see. What about that St. Louis girl you are always
getting letters from--Lola--confounded childish name--I think you call
her. And I've heard you rave about a certain Dorothy, with golden hair.
Let the girls alone; they are no good. I never knew a fellow in love who
was any good. They go around sighing and writing poetry and making
confounded idiots of themselves. I agree that Miss Chittenden is a
mighty good-looking girl; but how do you know she isn't fooling
us--shook that little flag in our faces to save her father?"
"Oh, Dan, Dan!" laughed Lawrence, "when it comes to girls, you are
incorrigible. Dan, tell the truth--were you ever in love?"
"If I ever was, thank God! I am over it," snapped Dan, as he took a chew
of tobacco.
Lawrence spent two days in the valley of the La Belle, paroling his
prisoners, and loading up their wagons with provisions and forage enough
to last to Rolla.
Lawrence started the train back to Rolla, and then bade farewell to the
lovely valley, which he left scathless; but for many days there remained
before his mental vision the image of the beautiful girl who was loyal
to the Union under such adverse circumstances.
All unknown to Lawrence, he had been gone from the valley but a few
hours when there came riding up from the South a Confederate cavalry
force of one hundred and fifty men, under the command of a Major Powell.
They had come to meet the recruits, and had with them a train of empty
wagons to take back what was left of the provisions and forage after the
recruits were supplied.
When Major Powell learned what had happened, and that all the provisions
and forage not given to the recruits had been destroyed, his rage knew
no bounds. He first ordered fifty of his men to pursue the train and
bring every man back. "Their paroles are not worth the paper they are
written on," he roared.
"I will not wait for you," he said to the Captain in command of the
fifty, "but shall pursue this audacious Captain Middleton. I will see
that not a man of his command gets out of the Ozarks alive."
"That will leave you only one hundred men for the pursuit, Major," said
the Captain.
"That is so; but you know we brought arms for one hundred. Call for
volunteers from the recruits. Tell them to take the best horses from the
train, and report as soon as possible."
The Captain in pursuit of the train had an easier task than he thought,
for he had not gone more than five miles when he met nearly two hundred
of the men returning, under the leadership of three or four men known as
desperate guerrillas. Hardly had the Federals left the train, when a
plot was formed to seize it. Nearly half the paroled men entered the
plot; those who refused were stripped of everything and sent on their
way, destitute.
This reinforcement, so much sooner than expected, greatly elated Major
Powell. A mountaineer explained he knew a shorter route than the one the
Federals were taking, and although they had several hours' start, he
could easily lead a force that could gain their front, and thus they
would be hemmed in between the two forces.
Major Powell quickly made his plans. A hundred men, under the command of
one of his most trusted officers, were sent to try and get ahead of the
Federals, while he, with a hundred more, would follow in quick pursuit.
About this time Mark Grafton appeared on the scene. He, too, brought
important news. Believing that Big Tom was contemplating a raid on Mr.
Chittenden, and that his sudden departure was only a blind to disarm
suspicion, Mark had disguised himself and followed the gang.
"I unearthed the most hellish plot," said Mark. "Big Tom and his gang
were to disguise themselves as Federals, raid the plantation of La
Belle, kill Mr. Chittenden and me, and carry off Grace, and force her
into a marriage with Big Tom. The plot was about to be carried out, when
the gang unexpectedly met the force under Captain Middleton, and was
routed. And we needn't fear anything from Big Tom for some time, as he
is badly wounded."
Mark, on his part, was greatly surprised to hear what had happened in
the valley while he was gone. "I would go with you," he said to Major
Powell, "but I have an important engagement I must keep. I hope you will
overtake and chastise those Yankees as they deserve."
"If I can overtake them, you may depend on it they will get the
chastisement," responded the Major, as he rode away.
Mark then related to Mr. Chittenden more fully what he had found out as
to Big Tom's plans, and added: "If I were you, Mr. Chittenden, I would
say nothing about this to Grace, for it might unnecessarily alarm her.
She is safe, at least, until Big Tom gets well. If I did not think so, I
would not rest until I had hunted the dog down. As it is, I must be
absent for a week or two, but not longer."
Mark waited until nightfall, and then he, too, rode away.