Let us now return to General Lyon, whom we left at Jefferson City, which he had occupied without opposition. The union men gave him a hearty welcome, while the secessionists received him with many a frown.

Major Conant, of General Lyon's staff, visited the penitentiary, which was full of convicts, who cheered heartily as he entered. They had hoped to be liberated when the rebels left town, and no doubt would have been willing to enter the service as a condition of getting outside the stone walls that surrounded them. They had been secession in sentiment, but finding the rebels had gone without them they suddenly changed their politics and shouted lustily for the Union when the officer representing the authority of the United States came among them. A few only held out and cheered for Jeff Davis and Governor Jackson, probably for the reason that they believed in secession, and especially in secession from where they were. There was gloom all around when they found that General Lyon had no intention of setting them free, and that the sole object of the visit of Major Conant was to see that the prison was properly guarded, and ascertain that no work on behalf of the rebels was being carried on there.

The editor of the Examiner, a newspaper which had been advocating secession in the most violent manner, called upon General Lyon, and said he had been a union man always, and was in favor of keeping the state in the Union, though he had thought differently only a short time before. There were several cases of equally sudden conversion, but the general did not consider these professions-of patriotism anything more than skin deep. Missouri was full of men of this sort—men who were in favor of the rebellion at heart, but in presence of the Union flag were the most profound unionists that the country ever saw.

As soon as it was positively known that the fleeing rebels had decided to make a stand at Booneville, which was about forty miles from Jefferson City, General Lyon started in pursuit of them. Loading his troops on three steamboats, with the exception of three companies of infantry, which were left to hold possession of Jefferson City, he started up the Missouri early on the afternoon of Sunday, June sixteenth, and by sunset reached a point ten or twelve miles below Booneville, where it was decided to tie up for the night. Bright and early the next morning the steamers moved on, and were brought to the bank of the river six or seven miles below Booneville.

The rebels had formed a camp, known as Camp Vest, about half-way between this landing-place and the town, and as they had several cannon there, it was not deemed advisable to move the steamboats within their range until the infantry or artillery of the land forces had made a demonstration.

In the gray of the morning the troops were landed, and the bank of the river presented a scene to which it was quite unaccustomed. Officers were hurrying about here and there; companies were endeavoring to assemble, as they had become a good deal scattered in the hurry of getting on shore; the artillery was dragged up the steep slope of the bank with a vast deal of shouting on the part of the drivers, including a liberal amount of language that is not usually found in theological works; the saddle-horses of the officers danced around in endeavoring to show their satisfaction at getting on land again, and some of them escaped from the orderlies who were holding them and were retaken with difficulty. Altogether it was a picture long to be remembered by those who saw it.

There was no cavalry in the expedition, with the exception of General Lyon's body-guard of eight or ten Germans who had been specially enlisted for this purpose. These men, previous to their enlistment, had been employed in a butchering establishment in St. Louis. The story got abroad that German butchers had been enlisted for the Union army, and, as usual, it was magnified with each repetition until it seemed that every man who wore the national uniform was a professional spiller of blood. Out of this circumstance grew the most terrific predictions as to what the butchers would do when they got possession of a place or marched through any part of the state, and it was for this reason, among others, that so many people fled in terror when they heard that the Union army was coming. General Lyon's butchers were as well behaved as the most fastidious commander could desire; they were good soldiers, obedient to their commander, and would not harm a fly except in the performance of their legitimate duty.

Before seven o'clock in the morning the column was in motion, the cavalry squad in advance and skirmishers thrown out for half a mile or soon either side. Very soon after leaving the landing-place the road ascended a series of undulating hills or ridges, and the advance had not gone far on this road before the pickets of the enemy were driven in. Then one of the cavalrymen rode hastily back and said that the whole force of the state troops were drawn up on one of the ridges only a few hundred yards away. The battle was about to begin!

The regular soldiers and the First Missouri were ordered forward, the rest of the volunteer regiments were held in reserve, and the battery commanded by Captain Totten took position in the middle of the road on one of the ridges in full view of the enemy on the other side of a wheat-field that filled the greater part of the hollow from ridge to ridge. On the ridge held by the enemy the road was filled with horsemen, while the men on foot were deployed to right and left, slightly protected by fences that divided the fields.

Captain Totten unlimbered a twelve-pounder gun and sent a shell right in the midst of the group of horsemen in the road.

To say that the shell kicked up a great dust is to describe the result very mildly. It not only kicked up a dust but it set all the horses to kicking up, and though it did not kill anybody, as far as was afterwards ascertained, it emptied a dozen saddles by the rearing and plunging of the steeds. None of them had ever seen anything of the kind before. It takes a hardened old horse to stand an exploding shell, and even then there's some doubt as to whether he will be quiet under such trying circumstances.

Original Size

The opening shot of the artillery was rapidly followed by others, and then the small-arms added their noise to the firing. Of course the rebels by this time were doing their best, and the bullets flew thickly, but as is always the case in battle, most of them were aimed too high. Here and there a man was wounded, but as General Lyon had ordered all who were not actually engaged to keep out of range no harm was done outside the fighting line, and even there the bloodshed was slight.

In twenty minutes from the time the first shot was fired the rebels were in full retreat and the unionists were following them. Not only were the rebels in retreat, but they were scattered and a good deal demoralized. In justice to them it should be said that no commander ever yet existed who could keep his men completely together in time of flight under an enemy's fire. Of course veterans will act better than green troops, but even the hardiest of veterans will straggle under such circumstances.

The fugitives made no stand until they reached their camp, and even there they did not tarry long. A few rounds of bullets and some shots from the artillery set them again in flight, which was considerably aided by one of the steamboats that had moved up from the landing-place and fired two or three rounds from a howitzer just as it reached a point opposite the camp. “Cannon to right of them, cannon to left of them, cannon in front of them,” as the Light Brigade had at Balaklava, was too much for the rebel troops to stand.

There was something ludicrous in the appearance of the camp, as it bore evidence of a very hasty departure on the part of its late occupants. Meat was in the frying-pans on the fire, half-baked beans filled the camp-ovens, and pots of unboiled coffee were standing ready for the attention of the cook. On the ground lay a ham with a slice half severed and a knife still sticking in the meat. The camp-chest of some of the officers was all spread for breakfast, but those who had expected to take their morning meal there were now in rapid flight for safety.

A cooked breakfast should not be wasted, so some of our fellows thought, and they set about devouring what the fugitives had left. Tents were standing, piles of provisions were heaped up, a good many rifles and other weapons were scattered on the ground, and altogether the captors made a satisfactory seizure. One of the officers found several hundred dollars in a trunk in one of the tents and thoughtfully put the money in his pocket, in order, as he said, to hand it to the owner in case he should ever meet and recognize him.