WHEN I had delivered my orders, and just as I was returning to General Vandever,” continues Harry, “the rebels made a charge upon our battery and the infantry that supported it. This was about noon, or perhaps a little later; I can't say exactly, as I was too much excited to make a note of the time.

“It was n't a bayonet charge that they made, because they had no bayonets to charge with. They charged with double-barreled shotguns, loaded with ball and buckshot, and to judge by the result, the shotgun in this way is a formidable weapon. They reserved their fire until they were pretty close to our lines; then they delivered it at short range and without taking any particular aim, relying on the scattering of the balls and buckshot to give a deadly effect to the assault. They were met with well-delivered volleys from our rifles and driven back, and they left the ground strewed with their dead and wounded.

“Again they charged, after resting a little while, and again they met with the same reception; but they managed to force us back a little. Then there was another lull, but only a short one, and suddenly the shot and shell rained along the whole length of our line. General Dodge was forced back, and so was General Vandever. Many of our officers fell and were carried to the hospitals in the rear, and many of our brave soldiers were stretched on the ground. There was a melancholy satisfaction in knowing that the enemy was losing heavily, but with his advantage in numbers he could keep up the fight, if only his ammunition held out, long after our whole force would be used up. General Carr sent several times for reinforcements, but there were none to be sent to him. General Curtis told him to 'persevere,' and so he did, and, fighting whenever the enemy advanced, he continued all through the afternoon.

Original Size

“'I must have three regiments and two batteries, before sunset and darkness,' said the general, 'or I cannot hold on.'”

Just before one of the charges which the rebels made near Elkhorn Tavern, General Vandever sent Jack with an order to Colonel Herron. On came the rebels, and down went Jack's horse with a bullet through his neck; another bullet grazed Jack's side, but only scratched the skin, after tearing a great hole in his coat. At the same time Colonel Herron's horse fell dead, a cannon-shot having gone clear through him, and in the fall the colonel was severely hurt; a musket-ball struck his leg, and between the fall and the wound he was unable to stand. Jack rushed to his side to raise him, and as he did so the rebels closed around them.

“Surrender!” said a tall fellow in a butternut coat and trousers, as he flourished a shotgun and pointed it at Colonel Herron.

“There's nothing else to be done,” replied the colonel. “But you'll have to help me to go along with you; I don't believe I can walk.”

“I 'll show you how to walk,” exclaimed the fellow. What he proposed to do will be forever unknown, as just then an officer came up and received the colonel's surrender. He ordered two men to assist him to the rear, and then went on to look after the fighting that was raging in front.

Jack's presence had not been specially observed, as both soldier and officer had been attracted to the advantage of securing the captured colonel. Jack was meditating on the possibility of slipping through the lines somehow and getting to his friends, when he thought of the wounded colonel and the possibility of assisting him.

“It 'll be a hard time for Colonel Herron, wounded and a prisoner,” said Jack to himself, “and it 'll be mighty risky for me to try to run back through the lines. I might be shot by my own friends, and that I should n't like.”

Whether he meant by this that he had no objections to being shot by the enemy we will not undertake to say, but certain it is that he was not unlike others in being specially averse to being shot by mistake. One of the bitterest reflections that has ever been made by the southern people on the death of Stonewall Jackson is, that he was killed by his own men, who mistook him and his escort for a scouting party of the enemy.

Jack had hastily made up his mind to stay by the colonel, when he was rudely taken in charge by one of the rebel soldiers and ordered to march along with him. He asked to be allowed to remain with Colonel Herron. At first the request was refused, but on the latter giving his parole not to attempt to escape, and vouching that Jack would do the same, he was permitted to accompany the officer to whom he was so much attached.

They were sent to the rear, but for some minutes were not out of danger, as the cannon-shot from their own lines were crashing through the trees or plowing up the ground in their vicinity. A limb cut from a tree by one of these shots fell close to Jack, and some of the twigs brushed him in their descent; had the limb fallen upon him the result might have been serious. Not six feet from where he was standing at one time a falling branch killed a Confederate soldier and severely wounded two or three others. A company of cavalry was completely broken up by an exploding shell, the horses taking alarm and becoming utterly uncontrollable. In spite of the efforts of their riders to restrain them they ran away, and the men were violently thrown to the ground or brushed off among the trees.

We may remark here that owing to the wooded nature of the ground where the battle of Pea Ridge was fought, the cavalry on both sides were of comparatively little use. Among the brushwood and trees that spread over that region it was impossible to preserve the formation of the lines sufficiently to make a charge with any effect, except in a very few instances. Then, too, where the artillery was firing, the crashing of the shot and shell among the trees and the falling of the limbs frightened the horses, as we have just seen, and rendered them worse than useless. The cavalry was unable to accomplish anything of consequence, through no fault of the men, but owing to the nature of the country, and in several instances the runaway horses demoralized the infantry by dashing through the lines at inopportune moments.

The history of warfare in all ages abounds in accounts of panic created by runaway animals on the battlefield. Frightened elephants and horses caused the loss of battles by the Greeks, Romans and other warriors of antiquity, long before the invention of gunpowder. Since its discovery and use the instances of its panic-producing qualities are numerous. So much is this the case that the elephant among the Eastern nations has been almost entirely discarded on the battlefield, and is now only used in war for the more prosaic purposes of a beast of burden. With the increased range of artillery and small-arms in the past forty years the horse is gradually diminishing in importance as a fighting animal, and cavalry is chiefly useful nowadays for scouting purposes and for pursuing a demoralized enemy in retreat.

We will leave the two captives in the hands of their captors and return to Harry, whom we left with General Vandever.

The Ninth Iowa was getting out of ammunition, and the general sent Harry to order up a fresh supply. Away he rode to the rear, where the ammunition-wagons were stationed, and very quickly hunted up the one that he wanted and sent it forward. He not only sent but accompanied it, partly in order to show the road and partly to make sure that the driver did not turn aside on the way and seek a place of greater safety than where the shot and shell were falling. The driver was a brave fellow, however, and energetically lashed his team to keep up with the galloping youth in front of him.

By the time they reached the fighting line the regiment had again fallen back, leaving Elkhorn Tavern in the hands of the enemy. Not only did Harry bring the ammunition, which was speedily distributed, but he brought a message from General Curtis to General Carr that he was about to be reinforced.

“General Asboth has just returned from pursuing the rebels on the left,” said Harry, “and is coming with two regiments and a battery to support you.”

The word ran along the line like wildfire, and the men cheered heartily. Again the rebels came on in great force, and again they were met by a withering fire, and also by a bayonet charge by the infantry of both brigades of Carr's division.

But the rebels were as brave as the men they were facing, and before the reinforcements could reach the sorely-pressed division there was another charge, which forced the union line back across a series of open fields to the edge of a wood, which gave it the same sort of shelter the rebels had enjoyed during the greater part of the day. The union forces had the advantage now, as the enemy was obliged to make its charges across the fields, which could be raked with the artillery and small-arms with destructive effect.

“We've got'em now,” said General Vandever, turning to one of his officers; “and here we'll stick till night comes to stop the fighting. Sunset will come in an hour, and we can easily hold the position till then.”

His prediction was verified. The only attack made by the rebels on the last position was easily repulsed, and then the sun dipped below the horizon and the battle was over for the day.

The hostile forces lay within a thousand feet or so of each other all through the night, neither party daring to light a fire anywhere along its front, for fear of revealing its whereabouts. The air was still, and conversation was carried on in whispers, for fear of scouts creeping close up to the lines and overhearing what was said. The weary men lay down where they were, and sought the sleep they so much needed after the long day's fighting. As for the generals and other officers few of them closed an eye during the long night, as they were occupied with plans and preparations for the morrow.

In all the camp there was no one more active than our young friend Harry. He sadly missed the companionship of Jack, but having learned from a prisoner taken in the last charge and repulse of the rebels that his friend was uninjured and with Colonel Herron, he rejoiced, on the whole, at the situation. “He 'll be useful to the colonel, and perhaps it's all for the best that he's a prisoner just now,” was his soliloquy as he turned to General Vandever and asked if he had any orders.

“Yes,” answered the general. “Go to camp and order up some coffee, bread and meat for the men, and send along their blankets and overcoats. We'll stay right here through the night, and be ready for what comes in the morning.”

Away went Harry with the order. When he reached the camp he found the order had been anticipated, as the camp-guard and wagon-drivers had a good supper ready, as good as the army rations afforded, and in less than fifteen minutes it was loaded into wagons, where the overcoats and blankets already were piled, and dispatched to the front.