When Taylor's fresh troops dashed over us with a yell the forces behind the fence wavered and finally ran, but it was then about time for them to run. They had held us until most of the army had crossed the river. They then made their escape and cut the pontoon bridge behind them. We secured most of their heavy guns as they had to keep them back to use on us. The battle was ended and I was glad of it. I never passed a more dreadful day. With rain pouring down from above, with sloughs waist deep to wade, and with mud ankle deep over the whole battle field our condition may be easily imagined. Besides this we were black as negroes when we went into camp. In biting off the ends of our paper cartridges the loose powder would stick to our wet faces and become smeared over them. Our gun sticks were black with exploded powder, and in handling them with wet hands we became completely covered with grime. I shall never forget the sorry looking, miserable, muddy, rain soaked and bedraggled soldiers that came into camp that night.

We were not the only men who suffered that day. While we were lying on the field, Price ordered a battery to our assistance. The captain pulled his battery down the road and ran into a negro regiment concealed in the timber. The battery boys dismounted and were getting ready for business when the negroes charged and captured the battery. About half the company swam a slough and got away. The other half were taken prisoners. They had no sooner laid down their arms than the negroes shot and killed them all. As we lay upon the field we could see and hear but little, but this massacre occurred in plain view from where we lay. As soon as we were relieved a portion of our forces immediately attacked the negro regiment and without mercy killed and wounded about half of them and recaptured the guns; but the negroes had shot the horses and that rendered the guns useless.

Next day I was detailed to help bury the dead. Several large wagons were provided with six mules and a driver to each wagon. Four men to each wagon loaded the bodies in. The end gate was taken out of the bed. Two men stood on each side of a body. One on each side held an arm and one each side a leg. The second swing the body went in head foremost. When the wagon was full it was driven off to where another squad had prepared a long trench into which the bodies were thrown and covered up. It required most of the day to complete our work.

The wounded were removed from the field and cared for temporarily as they fell. The flight of the Federal forces made it impossible for them to care for their wounded immediately, so they were taken up by our men and given such attention as we could give them.

Next day was the doctors' day. I was ordered to go along and assist. Three doctors went together, and over each wounded man they held a consultation. If two of them said amputate, it was done at once. When they came to a man with a wound on his head they would smile and say, "We had better not amputate in this case." It seemed to me they made many useless amputations.

One doctor carried a knife with a long thin blade. He would draw this around the limb and cut the flesh to the bone. The second had a saw with which he sawed the bone. The third had a pair of forceps with which he clasped the blood vessels, and a needle with which he sewed the skin over the wound.

The first man I saw them work upon was a Union soldier. All three said his leg must come off. They began administering chloroform, but he was a very hard subject and fought it bitterly. They asked me to hold his head, and I did so. As soon as he was quiet they went to work on him. When I saw how they cut and slashed I let his head loose. I thought if he wanted to wake up and fight them he should have a fair chance. I told the doctors that I did not go to war to hold men while they butchered them; that I had done all to that man that my contract called for and that I thought he was well paid for his trip. I was in real earnest about it, but the doctors laughed at me and said they would soon teach me to be a surgeon.


[CHAPTER XV.]
Back Into Missouri.