The Lost Army

by Thomas Wallace Knox

The first success along the whole line of attack was when on the sixth of February the fleet under Admiral Foote bombarded Fort Henry and compelled its surrender. Then followed the attack on Fort Donelson, when General Grant “moved immediately upon the works” of General Buckner and took him a prisoner, together with all those of his garrison that could not escape. The whole North was in a blaze of excitement as the news was published in the papers, which appeared in the form of “Extras,” with a great many lines of heading to a very few lines of news. Such a sensation had not happened since the battle of Bull Run, in the previous year—and, unlike that of Bull Run, the story was one of victory and not of disaster.

The effect of the news in a city like St. Louis, whose population was divided in sentiment, was a curious study to the outsider. A man's sympathies could be known half a block away by the expression of his face and the air with which he greeted his friends. If he was for the Union his head was high in the air and his countenance showed him to be “smiling all over;” but if he sympathized with the rebellion, his steps were sad and slow and his head was downcast, as though he had lost a ten cent piece or a diamond ring, and was on the lookout to find it. There was no occasion to ask a man how he felt; the subject was too momentous to permit him to conceal his thoughts.

When the newsboys appeared with the extras they were eagerly patronized by the Union men and as eagerly repelled by the Secessionists. One boy had the temerity to enter the store of a noted Secessionist and shout in stentorian tones, “'Ere's yer extra; all about the capture of Fort Donelson!”

That boy soon had reason to believe that his presence was not desired there and his wares were unwelcome. He sold no papers in that store, and moreover he was ejected from it a moment after entering on the toe of a number ten boot. His ejectment was no trifling matter as it carried him quite to the edge of the sidewalk. He got up again, as though nothing had happened, and went on with his business as usual.

It is sad to record that there was a great deal of drinking in St. Louis over the result of Grant's movement against Donelson. The Union men drank in joy and congratulation, while the Secessionists did likewise to drown their sorrow. In Chicago and other Northern cities the drinking was more one-sided than in St. Louis, but the average to each inhabitant was not greater.

It is said that on some of the dead-walls of Chicago the day of the fall of Donelson a placard was posted to the effect that every man found sober at nine o'clock in the evening would be arrested for disloyalty. History does not record that there were any arrests in Chicago that day for disloyalty. Whether there was anybody around at that hour capable of making arrests is also without record.

Having thus taken a general survey of the field, we will return to Jack and Harry, whom we left with the Army of the Southwest.

The army moved, as before stated, and encountered no opposition as it advanced beyond the Gasconade river and occupied the town of Lebanon, sixty-five miles from Rolla. Harry called Jack's attention to the desolation that seemed to prevail along the route, compared with what the road was when they first saw it on the retreat from Wilson's Creek. Many houses had been burned, and many of those that escaped the torch were without occupants. In every instance where inquiry was made it was found that the burned or deserted house had been the property of a Union citizen who had been driven away by his rebel neighbors or by scouting parties from Price's army.

The few people that remained were almost destitute of food, and it was next to impossible to obtain feed for horses. The country had suffered terribly from the ravages of war, and was destined to suffer still further before the war ended. As long as the war lasted it was infested by roving bands of guerrillas, although the regular armies of the Confederacy had been forced much farther to the south. At first the Secessionists encouraged the presence of these guerrillas, but after a time they found their exactions so great that they would gladly have rid themselves of their so-called “friends.”

The roads were bad and the march was slow, but in spite of the bad roads and the wintry weather the army pushed forward resolutely. Jack and Harry found themselves covered with mud at the end of every day's march, and as they were frequently sent with scouting parties away from the road, their horses as well as themselves were pretty well used up when night arrived; but they came out as lively as ever the next morning, and the horses seemed to echo the words of their young masters, that they were having a good time.