I continued to improve, but recovered very slowly indeed, and remained in Fayetteville until the early days of December. The regiment was ordered to go into winter quarters at the mouth of Frog Bayou, on the north bank of the Arkansas River, twelve miles below Van Buren, and when they had passed through Fayetteville on their way to the designated point, I followed, as I was now able to ride on horseback. Cabins were soon erected for the men and stalls for the horses, and here the main command was at home for the winter. I was furloughed until March 1, but as the weather was fine I remained in the camp for two weeks before starting on the long home journey to Rusk. Many other convalescents were furloughed at this time, so finally, in company with Dr. W. L. Gammage, who, by the way, had been made surgeon of an Arkansas regiment, and two or three members of Company F who lived in Cherokee County, I started to Rusk, reaching the end of my journey just before Christmas.
My first night in Cherokee County was spent at the home of Captain Taylor’s noble mother, near Larissa, where I delivered her son’s last messages to her, and told her of his last days. The next day I went on to Rusk and delivered the messages, horse, watch, etc., to the mother-in-law and children. Mr. Wiggins’s family offered me a home for the winter, and as I had greatly improved and the winter was exceedingly mild, I spent the time very pleasantly until ready to return to the army. Among other things I brought home the ball that killed Leander Cole, and sent it to his mother.
CHAPTER V
THE WAR IN MISSOURI—Continued
I Rejoin the Command—Sleeping in Snow—Ambushed—Battle of Elkhorn Tavern (Pea Ridge)—Capturing a Battery—Deaths of Generals McCulloch and McIntosh—Battle Continued—Casualties—Keetsville—Official Reports—March Southward—Foraging—Lost Artillery—Illness Again.
In the latter part of February, 1862, I left Rusk in company with Tom Hogg, John Germany, and perhaps one or two more of our furloughed men, for our winter quarters on the Arkansas River. We crossed Red River and took the road running along the line between Arkansas and the Indian Territory to Fort Smith. After crossing Red River we began meeting refugees from Missouri and north Arkansas, on their way to Texas, who told us that our army was moving northward, and a battle was expected very soon. This caused us to push on more rapidly, as we were due to return March 1, and were anxious to be in our places with the command. When we reached Van Buren we learned that our whole army was in motion, that a battle was imminent and might occur any day. By this time the weather had grown quite cold, and leaving Van Buren at 9 A. M., we had to cross Boston Mountain, facing a north wind blowing snow in our faces all day. Nevertheless, we slept fifty miles from there that night, camping with some commissary wagons on the road, a few miles from Fayetteville. Here we learned that the army was camped along the road between there and Fayetteville. The next morning we started on at a brisk gait, but before we could pass the infantry they were filing into the road. We took to the brush and galloped our horses about six miles and overtook the Third Texas, which was in the advance, now passing out of the northern suburbs of Fayetteville, and found Company C in the advance guard on the Bentonville road.
We advanced slowly that day, without coming in contact with the enemy, and camped that night at Elm Springs, where the snow fell on us all night. Of course we had no tents, but slept on the ground without shelter. This seemed pretty tough to a fellow who, except for a few fine days in December, had not spent a day in camp since September, during all that time occupying warm, comfortable rooms. Up to this time I had never learned to sleep with my head covered, but finding it now necessary, I would first cover my head and face to keep the snow out, stand that as long as I could, then throw the blanket off, when the snow would flutter down in my face, chilling me so that I could not sleep. So between the two unpleasant conditions I was unable to get any rest at all. Some time before daybreak we saddled up and moved on, the snow being three or four inches deep, and early in the morning we passed the burning fires of the Federal pickets. By nine o’clock the storm had passed, the sun shining brightly, and about ten o’clock we came in sight of Bentonville, a distance said to be two miles. We could plainly see the Federal troops moving about the streets, their bright guns glistening in the sunshine, afterwards ascertained to have been Sigel’s column of General Curtis’ army. We were drawn up in line and ordered to prepare for a charge. To illustrate what a magic influence an order to charge upon the enemy has, how it sends the sluggish blood rushing through the veins and livens up the new forces, I will say that while we were standing in line preparing to charge those fellows, I was so benumbed with cold that I could not cap my pistols. I tried ever so hard to do so, but had my life depended upon it I could not have succeeded. We were thrown into columns of fours and ordered to charge, which we did at a brisk gallop, and before we had gone exceeding one-half mile I had perfect use of my hands, was comfortably warm, and did not suffer in the least with cold at any time during the rest of the day.
We charged into the town, but the enemy had all moved out. I suppose it was the rear of the command that we had seen moving out. That afternoon we were ambushed by a strong force, and were fired on in the right flank from a steep, rough hill. We were ordered to charge, which order we attempted to obey by wheeling and charging in line up a hill so steep and rough that only a goat could have made any progress, only to find our line broken into the utmost confusion and under a murderous fire of infantry and artillery from an invisible enemy behind rocks and trees. In the confusion I recognized the order “dismount and fall into line!” I dismounted, but when I fell into what I supposed was going to be the line I found Lieutenant J. E. Dillard and J. B. Murphy, “us three, and no more.” While glancing back I saw the regiment was charging around on horseback, while the captains of companies were shouting orders to their men in the vain endeavor to get them into some kind of shape.