“General Price thereupon directed me to identify Lyon's body, and to deliver it to the bearer of the flag of truce. It had been borne to the rear of the Federal line of battle, and there, under the shade of an oak, it lay, still clad in the captain's uniform which he had worn just two months before when, relying upon the strength of his manhood, on the might of his government, and on the justice of his cause, he had boldly defied the governor of the state and the major-general of her forces, and in their presence had declared war against Missouri and against all who should dare to take up arms in her defense. Since that fateful day he had done many memorable deeds, and had well deserved the gratitude of all those who think that the union of these states is the chiefest of political blessings, and that they who gave their lives to perpetuate it ought to be forever held in honor by those who live under its flag. The body was delivered to the men who had come for it—delivered to them with all the respect and courtesy which were due to a brave soldier and the commander of an army, and they bore it away towards Springfield, whither the army which he had led out to battle was slowly and sullenly retreating.”
[Original Size]
Colonel Snead adds:
“The Confederates remained upon the field which they had won, and ministered to the wounded and buried the dead of both armies. Before the unpitying sun had sunk behind the western hills, all those who had died for the Union and all those who had died for the South had been laid to rest, uncoffined, in the ground which their manhood had made memorable and which their blood had made sacred forever.”
Jack was waiting for Harry when the latter returned, and as soon as the team had been unharnessed and the animals fed, the two youths had an animated talk.
“The doctor told me to drive as fast as I could,” said Harry, “and you can be sure I did. He had the flag of truce—a big napkin or towel tied to a stick—and this he kept waving in front of the wagons as we went along. We did n't see anybody until we got pretty near the battlefield, and then we came upon a picket of fellows in butternut clothes and armed with shotguns and squirrel rifles. Yes, we did see somebody, as we passed several of our wounded soldiers who had tried to follow the army on its retreat, but were too weak to do so and had sat down by the roadside or were still hobbling on as fast as they could. One poor fellow of the First Iowa, who had been shot in the leg, was using his gun for a crutch. He asked for a drink of water and we gave it to him, and we gave water to some of the others, who seemed to need it badly. The doctor says a wounded man always suffers terribly from thirst, and one of the first things he always asks for is water.
“When we got to the rebel picket they stopped us and at first would n't let us go on or send inside to the commanding officer or anybody else in authority. But the doctor good-naturedly said they could see for themselves that he was the bearer of a flag of truce—that he had a message to deliver, and the best way to find out whether he was right or wrong was to send to the nearest commissioned officer and ask him to come there.