CHAPTER XV.
LITTLE ROCK. EXPEDITIONS TO AUGUSTA AND SPRINGFIELD. MARCH, APRIL AND MAY, 1864.
In the spring of 1864 it was determined by the military authorities to undertake some offensive operations in what was styled the "Red River country," the objective point being Shreveport, Louisiana. Gen. N. P. Banks was to move with an army from New Orleans, and Gen. Steele, in command of the Department of Arkansas, was to co-operate with a force from Little Rock. And here my regiment sustained what I regarded, and still regard, as a piece of bad luck. It was not included in this moving column, but was assigned to the duty of serving as provost guard of the city of Little Rock during the absence of the main army. To be left there in that capacity, while the bulk of the troops in that department would be marching and fighting was, from my standpoint, a most mortifying circumstance. But the duty that devolved on us had to be done by somebody, and soldiers can only obey orders. Our officers said at the time that only efficient and well-disciplined troops were entrusted with the position of provost-guards of a city the size of Little Rock, and hence that our being so designated was a compliment to the regiment. That sounded plausible, and it may have been true, probably was, but I didn't like the job a bit. It may, however, have all been for the best, as this Red River expedition, especially the part undertaken by Gen. Banks, was a disastrous failure. Gen. Steele left Little Rock about March 23rd, with a force, of all arms, of about 12,000 men, but got no further than Camden, Arkansas. Gen. Banks was defeated by the Confederates at the battle of Sabine Cross-Roads, in Louisiana, on April 8th, and was forced to retreat. The enemy then was at liberty to concentrate on General Steele, and so he likewise was under the necessity of retreating, and scuttling back to Little Rock just as rapidly as possible. But on this retreat he and his men did some good, hard fighting, and stood off the Confederates effectively. About the first intimation we in Little Rock had that our fellows were coming back was when nearly every soldier in the city that was able to wield a mattock or a spade was detailed for fatigue duty and set to work throwing up breastworks, and kept at it, both day and night. I happened to see Gen. Steele when he rode into town on May 2nd, at the head of his troops, and he looked tough. He had on a battered felt hat, with a drooping brim, an oil-cloth "slicker," much the worse for wear, the ends of his pantaloons were stuck in his boots, and he was just splashed and splattered with mud from head to foot. But he sat firm and erect in his saddle, (he was a magnificent horseman,) and his eyes were flashing as if he had plenty of fight left in him yet. And the rank and file of our retreating army was just the hardest looking outfit of Federal soldiers that I saw during the war, at any time. The most of them looked as if they had been rolled in the mud, numbers of them were barefoot, and I also saw several with the legs of their trousers all gone, high up, socking through the mud like big blue cranes.
In view of the feverish haste with which Little Rock had been put in a state for defensive operations, and considering also all the reports in circulation, we fully expected that Price's whole army would make an attack on us almost any day. But the Confederates had been so roughly handled in the battle of Jenkins' Ferry, April 30th, on the Saline river, that none of their infantry came east of that river, nor any of their cavalry except a small body, which soon retired. The whole Confederate army, about May 1st, fell back to Camden, and soon all was again quiet along the Arkansas.
I will now go back about two weeks in order to give an account of a little expedition our regiment took part in when Gen. Steele's army was at Camden.
Late on the evening of April 19th, we fell in, marched to the railroad depot, climbed on the cars, and were taken that night to Devall's Bluff. Next morning we embarked on the steamboat "James Raymond," and started up White river. The other troops that took part in the movement were the 3rd Minnesota Infantry and a detachment of the 8th Missouri Cavalry. We arrived at the town of Augusta, (about eighty miles by water from Devall's Bluff,) on the morning of the 21st. It was a little, old, dilapidated river town, largely in a deserted condition, situated on low, bottom land, on the east bank of White river. On arriving we at once debarked from the boat, and all our little force marched out a mile or so east of the town, where we halted, and formed in line of battle in the edge of the woods, with a large open field in our front, on the other side of which were tall, dense woods. As there were no signs or indications of any enemy in the town, and everything around was so quiet and sleepy, I couldn't understand what these ominous preparations meant. Happening to notice the old chaplain a short distance in the rear of our company, I slipped out of ranks, and walked back to him for the purpose of getting a pointer, if possible. He was by himself, and as I approached him, seemed to be looking rather serious. He probably saw inquiry in my eyes, and without waiting for question made a gesture with his hands towards the woods in our front, and said, "O Son of Jeremiah! Here is where we shall give battle to those who trouble Israel!" "What! What is that you say?" said I, in much astonishment. "It is even so," he continued; "the Philistines are abroad in the land, having among them, as they assert, many valiant men who can sling stones at a hair's breadth and not miss. They await us, even now, in the forest beyond. But, Son of Jeremiah," said he, "if the uncircumcised heathen should assail the Lord's anointed, be strong, and quit yourself like a man!" "All right, Chaplain," I responded; "I have forty rounds in the box, and forty on the person, and will give them the best I have in the shop. But, say! Take care of my watch, will you? And, should anything happen, please send it to the folks at home;"—and handing him my little old silver time-piece, I resumed my place in the ranks. After what seemed to me a most tiresome wait, we finally advanced, preceded by a line of skirmishers. I kept my eyes fixed on the woods in our front, expecting every minute to see burst therefrom puffs of white smoke, followed by the whiz of bullets and the crash of musketry, but nothing of the kind happened. Our skirmishers entered the forest, and disappeared, and still everything remained quiet. The main line followed, and after gaining the woods, we discovered plenty of evidence that they had quite recently been occupied by a body of cavalry. The ground was cut up by horses' tracks, and little piles of corn in the ear, only partly eaten, were scattered around. We advanced through the woods and swamps for some miles and scouted around considerably, but found no enemy, except a few stragglers that were picked up by our cavalry. We left Augusta on the 24th, on our steamboat, and arrived at Little Rock on the same day. I met the chaplain on the boat while on our return, and remarked to him that, "Those mighty men who could kill a jaybird with a sling-shot a quarter of a mile off didn't stay to see the show." "No," he answered; "when the sons of Belial beheld our warlike preparation, their hearts melted, and became as water; they gat every man upon his ass, and speedily fled, even beyond the brook which is called Cache." He then went on to tell me that on our arrival at Augusta there was a body of Confederate cavalry near there, supposed to be about a thousand strong, under the command of a General McRae; that they were bivouacked in the woods in front of the line of battle we formed, and that on our approach they had scattered and fled. The enemy's force really exceeded ours, but, as a general proposition, their cavalry was reluctant to attack our infantry, in a broken country, unless they could accomplish something in the nature of a surprise, or otherwise have a decided advantage at the start.
On May 16th we shifted our camp to Huntersville, on the left bank of the Arkansas river, and near our first location. We thus abandoned our log cabins, and never occupied them again. They were now getting too close and warm for comfort, anyhow. But they had been mighty good friends to us in the bitterly cold winter of '63-4, and during that time we spent many a cosy, happy day and night therein.
On May 19th we again received marching orders, and the regiment left camp that night on the cars, and went to Hicks' station, 28 miles from Little Rock. We remained here, bivouacking in the woods, until the 22nd, when, at 3 o'clock in the morning of that day, we took up the line of march, moving in a northerly direction. The troops that composed our force consisted of the 61st, 54th, and 106th Illinois, and 12th Michigan (infantry regiments), a battery of artillery, and some detachments of cavalry; Brig. Gen. J. R. West in command. We arrived at the town of Austin, 18 miles from Hicks' Station, about 2 o'clock on the afternoon of the 22nd. It was a little country village, situated on a rocky, somewhat elevated ridge. As I understand, it is now a station on the Iron Mountain railroad, which has been built since the war. I reckon if in May, 1864, any one had predicted that some day a railroad would be built and in operation through that insignificant settlement among the rocks and trees, he would have been looked on as hardly a safe person to be allowed to run at large.
Co. D started on the march with only one commissioned officer, Second Lieutenant Wallace. I have forgotten the cause of the absence of Capt. Keeley and Lieut. Warren, but there was doubtless some good reason. On the first day's march the weather was hot, and the route was through a very rough and broken country. Wallace was overcome by heat, and had to fall out, and wait for an ambulance. In consequence, it so happened that when we reached Austin, there was no commissioned officer with us, and I, as first sergeant, was in command of the company. And that gave rise to an incident which, at the time, swelled me up immensely. On arriving at the town, the regiment halted on some open ground in the outskirts, fell into line, dressed on the colors, and stood at ordered arms. Thereupon the adjutant commanded, "Commanding officers of companies, to the front and center, march!" I was completely taken by surprise by this command, and for a second or two stood, dazed and uncertain. But two or three of the boys spoke up at once and said, "You're our commanding officer, Stillwell; go!" The situation by this time had also dawned on me, so I promptly obeyed the command. But I must have been a strange looking "commanding officer." I was barefooted, breeches rolled up nearly to the knees, feet and ankles "scratched and tanned," and my face covered with sweat and dirt. The closest scrutiny would have failed to detect in me a single feature of the supposed "pomp and circumstance" of an alleged military hero. But I stalked down the line, bare feet and all, with my musket at a shoulder arms, and looking fully as proud, I imagine, as Henry of Navarre ever did at the battle of Ivry, with "a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest." By the proper and usual commands, the "commanding officers of companies" were brought up and halted within a few paces of Col. Ohr, who thereupon addressed them as follows:
"Gentleman, have your men stack arms where they now are, and at once prepare their dinner. They can disperse to get wood and water, but caution them strictly not to wander far from the gun stacks. We may possibly pass the night here, but we may be called on, at any moment, to fall in and resume the march. That's all, gentlemen."