Crossing Rivers

As the sun peeked over the trees to the east of Bentonville and painted the landscape in a dim, gray glow, Corporal Boggs drained his cup of chicory coffee, made a face, and threw the dregs in the fire.

"Jacob, me boy, here they come. We's afixin' to open the ball."

Jacob looked up and saw the company officers striding toward them. The look on their faces was strained, but Jacob understood why it would be that way. Judging by the number of fires in the distance, the Union troops significantly outnumbered the Confederate Army of Tennessee, yet the rumor was they were going to attack that Union force. Jacob was used to that. It had been happening over and over for the past two years. A few times, they'd won the battle, but more often than not, they had to retreat without even picking up their dead.

Supplies seemed to be getting worse with every battle as well. When he'd enlisted, three years before, the Confederacy had supplies, arms, and ammunition to outfit every new recruit. After three years of war, arms and ammunition were something they took from dead bodies on the battlefield to increase what the Confederacy was able to supply.

Food was a sometimes thing. Like all soldiers on both sides, he'd complained about the salt pork and salt beef and hardtack he'd been issued for rations early in the war. Now, he'd have given a lot of money for even a small slab of either and half a hardtack biscuit. The last real meat he'd eaten had been half a dozen crawdads he'd caught in a creek where they'd camped two weeks before.

Jonas smiled to himself at that thought. There was no food to be bought, but he did have some money. Tied around his belt and carried inside his uniform trousers was a soft leather pouch. He'd found it on the body of a Union lieutenant when he was looking for ammunition. Inside the pouch, he'd found two, five dollar Union gold coins.

After that, he looked for money on bodies as much as he looked for ammunition. Officers were the best bet, but some high-ranking enlisted men had money too. By the time of the pending battle, he'd found a little over fifty Union dollars and about two in Confederate money. As a grizzled old sergeant had told him when Jacob saw him pulling the boots off a dead soldier, "he don't need 'em any more and I do". Jacob didn't have any use for money right then, but it he lived through the war, he would.

He wasn't surprised at not finding many Confederate greybacks. The Confederate troops hadn't been paid in weeks for the same reason food was scarce. Sherman had effectively cut off the supply lines from the south to the troops in the Carolinas when he'd marched his army across Georgia. Confederate money wasn't worth anything now anyway.

Like the rest of the company, he survived on the few rations the Confederacy was able to supply, and added to that with plants and roots he found in the fields and forests. If they were in an area where troops hadn't marched through lately, they might find a squirrel or two or maybe a rabbit, but those were rare occasions.

If they passed a farm, they might find a chicken or maybe even a hog, but Jacob felt bad about taking them. He'd seen the look on the women and children who stayed on those farms when their husband or father or son went off to war. They needed food too. Still, if he didn't eat he wouldn't be strong enough to fight. If he couldn't fight, it was more than likely he'd die or be taken prisoner.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Arkansas had formed its own army to protect it from the feared advances of the Union. They fought a couple battles, but then the Provisional Army of Arkansas had been handed over to the Confederacy and marched to Tennessee. That action had left Arkansas virtually defenseless against any actions by the Union Army.

During late winter of 1862, General VanDorn, a former Union Army officer who had joined the Confederate Army, was charged with building another force to guard Arkansas against Union aggression. Jacob had signed up expecting to do just that. He'd stay in Arkansas, probably not close to where his family lived on a small farm a few miles from Sylamore, but still in Arkansas.

In March, after only a month of military training, Jacob marched north with the new Confederate Army of the West toward Fayettville. The Union had pushed the Confederate Missouri State Guard out of Missouri and down into Arkansas over the winter. The Union had then established fortifications in Benton County and were awaiting supplies before they pushed deeper into Arkansas. The Army of the West was to halt the Union Army's progress and either force a retreat back to Missouri or to capture as much of the Union Army of the Southwest as possible.

The actual battle had taken place near the town of Leetown, and had resulted in a humiliating defeat for the new Confederate Army. They'd been outnumbered and under-trained, and the Union fortifications made assaulting the Union lines nearly impossible. A far bigger problem was the planning by General VanDorn and his staff.

Their plan was to flank the Union Army, cut off their supply train and then encircle them. To do this quickly, General VanDorn had left his own supply train behind. Each soldier carried only three day's rations, forty rounds of ammunition, and one blanket. A wagon with one more day's rations and extra ammunition would catch up to them in time to effect a resupply.

It had taken a three day forced march in freezing conditions to travel the distance from Fayetteville to Leetown. When they arrived, Jacob was tired and hungry, and wondered how they were going to last through even one day of battle.

Their advance on the Union's reinforced lines had been repelled on the first day, and on the second, the Union Army swept the exhausted Confederates from the battlefield. General VanDorn had ordered a retreat, and the weary army retraced its steps south until they found their main supply train south of the Boston Mountains.

A few weeks later, the Confederate Army of the West was transported into Tennessee and joined the Confederate Army of Tennessee. That left Arkansas defenseless again.

Unlike a few who deserted then, Jacob had followed orders and crossed the Mississippi. He fought hard after the Confederate Army of the West had been absorbed by the Confederate Army of Tennessee, though he came to realize he was no longer fighting to defend the Confederacy. He was fighting to defend himself. He fought to defend those of his company as well, but his prime goal was to get to the end of the war without being wounded or killed.

Over time, Jacob developed what Corporal Boggs called "battle sense". He survived each battle by being aware of what was going on around him and after a while, could predict what was likely to happen and take an appropriate action.

There was something else as well. At times, Jacob's mind told him to do something -- fall to the ground or run in a certain direction -- that ended up saving his life. It wasn't something he actually remembered seeing or hearing that caused that thought, though he knew it had to be. It just seemed to happen that he did the right thing at the right time.

Corporal Boggs thought Jacob was good luck because he'd never been wounded.

"I'm stickin' with you, Jacob. You're my lucky rabbit's foot."

On nights when they weren't fighting, he'd lay on his bedroll and think of what he'd do when he made it back to Sylamore. His father, Matthew Rhodes, was getting on in years and suffered from rheumatism. Jacob would take over running the farm and let his father have a well-deserved rest. He'd find a woman after the first year, probably Martha Rice, he thought. They'd spoken after church services a few times, and she seemed to like him. Once he was back, he'd court her proper and if her father agreed, he'd marry her. She'd give him sons to help with the farm work. When he had more hands to help, he'd buy more land.

All those thoughts raced through Jacob's mind as Corporal Boggs stood and picked up his Enfield rifle.

"You comin' Jacob?"

Jacob stood up and checked the cap on his rifle, then followed Corporal Boggs to where the troops were forming up.

The fighting had gone on most of the day. His company had tried to burst through the Union line without success. In mid-afternoon, they had tried again and were able to push the Union left flank back and capture the Union field hospital. They held that ground, but had lost so many men it had been difficult for their officers to mount a coordinated attack.

Several tries at penetrating the Union lines assembled at a farmhouse also failed. Multiple charges by the Confederates had been repulsed and each time they'd run back ducking the minié balls flying over their heads. Jacob had passed a lot of bodies when retreating after the first charge, and after the third, the ground was so covered with the dead and wounded he had to jump over them as he ran.

Union reinforcements had then arrived and the fighting continued sporadically until almost midnight. Jason was exhausted. He'd been running toward the Union line and firing, then running away for his very life for almost seventeen hours, seventeen hours without much to eat and with little rest. When the officers led a retreat away from the Union lines, he was relieved. They might not get much to eat, but they could get a few minutes of sleep. He was angry when he learned the retreat wasn't for a meal and some rest. It was so the troops could begin digging in and constructing breastworks.

Jacob was also saddened by the death of Corporal Boggs. Aaron Boggs had become a friend over the months, one of the few Jason allowed himself to make. Aaron came from Fayetteville and was one of the few Arkansas boys left by then. They had a lot in common, both of them coming from small, subsistence farms and both of them believing in God.

On one of the charges at the Union line, Jason had heard a dull "thunk" to his left. He'd quickly turned and saw Corporal Boggs go limp and fall to the ground. Other than a slight tremor in his legs, he lay still.

Jacob had knelt beside his friend and felt his stomach churn when he saw the large hole above Corporal Boggs's left eye. Jacob tried to lift his head, but when he touched Aaron's hair, he felt wetness. His hand came away covered with blood and a little pinkish gray matter. Jacob had eased Aaron's head back down, then took the cartridge box from Aaron's belt and stuffed it in his own knapsack, and started running toward the Union lines again.

In the early morning hours, his company dug a trench that would give them some cover against a Union assault and then tried to rest. They couldn't really sleep. They were exhausted but their nerves were still on edge from the battle. Jacob was glad he couldn't sleep. Sleep would have meant dreaming and dreaming would have meant seeing Corporal Boggs with a hole above his left eye and his brains spilling from the hole in the back of his head again.

Corporal Boggs would join the many Confederate soldiers who invaded Jacob's dreams some nights. They had all died as he watched, some of them quietly, some screaming out their last breath in pain. Jacob would wake, covered in sweat even if it was cold in his tent, then realize it was only another dream and eventually fall asleep again.

The next day wasn't eventful. Jacob knew the Confederates were grossly outnumbered and wondered why the Union didn't just sweep down and kill them all. There were short skirmishes throughout the day, but no actual battles. Jacob, along with the rest of his company welcomed a day to recover as best they could. They figured the next morning would bring another assault on the Union lines and more dead and wounded with little to show for it.

They were physically tired, but even worse was the mental tiredness. They were tired of fighting battles that seemed to always result in the Confederates retreating and regrouping what was left of the troops into new companies. New leaders would then replace those who had been killed or wounded and they'd prepare for another battle. They were tired of eating what they could find when they could find it and going hungry when they couldn't. They were tired of lice that chewed at their skin and ate their life blood. They were tired of being away from home and family.

On the third day, the battle the Confederates had expected happened with a Union attack on their rear. They were able to hold off the Union only because for some reason the Union troops stopped their attack and withdrew. It was obvious to Jacob they wouldn't survive another. He was nearly out of the paper cartridges for his Enfield rifle and they were becoming difficult to find. Like many other things he needed, he took them from the dead when he could find them.

On his belt Jacob carried two Kerr's Patent revolvers. He'd found them on the body of a dead Confederate Cavalry officer after a battle. They were too small to be of much use during a charge of the Union positions as they were only.44 caliber but they were very useful in defending a position when the Union got close enough. He'd put the officers belt on and taken both revolvers and all the ammunition the officer carried.

Also on that belt he carried a long bowie knife he'd taken from a dead Confederate infantryman he'd known. The man was from Texas and had said he had the knife for close quarters fighting. The man hadn't had the chance to try it out. A Union canon ball intentionally aimed to do so had skipped on the ground twice and then hit him in his midsection and cut him in half. Jacob had never had to use the bowie that way either, but he kept it sharp just in case.

By the end of the day, the Confederate troops were still in position, but they were about done in. Most had little or no ammunition left and were still exhausted. General Johnston, the commander of the army, ordered them to retreat. Under the cover of darkness, what was left of the army walked across the bridge over the creek behind their line and then burned the bridge. Their retreat was not seen by the Union, so they were not followed. They then slowly marched to Selma where they regrouped and rested.

Jacob thought it more than foolish to assemble the beaten army for a review by their generals, but he stood as straight as he could as they marched by the reviewing platform. After the review, they retreated further to near Raleigh where they dug in to await the attack by Sherman's army they were certain would come.

Within a few days, word came from the citizens of Raleigh that Lee had surrendered to Grant on April 9th at a courthouse in Appomattox, Virginia. A few days later, the rumor spread through the camp that General Johnston was going to surrender to General Sherman to avoid the battle and the destruction of Raleigh that would surely follow. On April 17th he was seen riding away from camp with his aides under a white flag.

The surrender happened on April 26, and that afternoon, Jacob learned of the surrender terms. The terms were simple and final. The Confederate soldiers were to turn in all their weapons and non-personal gear and would then be released on parole with no punishment unless they again took up arms against the Union. They were free to return home and pick up the lives they had left behind.

Jacob was both elated and sad. The war was over now and he could rejoin his family back in Sylamore and begin to live the life he'd thought about over the three years he'd fought. He was also sad because it seemed as if those three years had been for nothing, that all the men who had died had died for nothing and that all the men who'd been grievously wounded for life would have to bear those scars and missing arms and legs for nothing.

As he sat around the campfire with the other soldiers and listened to them talk about what they were going to do once they had surrendered, another thought crept into his mind and then became a fear.

He could go home, but doing so would mean walking through Tennessee unarmed and with no food. How could he survive when the Union Army occupied most of Tennessee? He'd heard stories from some of the Confederate soldiers who'd escaped being captured in the Battle of Nashville that Confederate guerilla fighters were still fighting there and that the Union Army shot first and asked questions later. In his gray uniform, he'd probably be at risk of the same, and without arms, wouldn't be able to defend himself.

Somewhat tempering that fear was the secret he kept hidden in his bedroll. While searching the battlefield for the dead and wounded after one of the battles they had actually won, he came across the body of a Union Army captain. Around the captain's waist was a pistol belt and in the holsters on that belt were two Remington revolvers. In a leather case behind the right hand holster were powder, balls, and caps for the revolvers. In another case behind the left holster were two extra cylinders.

Jacob had seen the Union officers using Remington revolvers. They were accurate and reliable and gave a man six shots before he needed to reload. Like his Kerr's revolvers, they weren't much good for distance shooting, but close up, they were deadly.

They were also easier to load because of the interchangeable cylinders. A man could load two cylinders, put one in the revolver and the other in the pouch on his belt. When one cylinder had been emptied, he could quickly remove the empty cylinder and replace it with the loaded cylinder from the pouch. A soldier so equipped would be able to fire twelve shots without stopping to reload, a process that could take several minutes a revolver with a captive cylinder.

Jacob had pulled the pistol belt and revolvers from the captain's body and hid them in the hollow of a tree. Once he'd been relieved from the search, he returned to the tree after dark and recovered the pistol belt and the revolvers. They had stayed hidden in his bedroll since then.

He stumbled upon the second answer the night before the surrender was to take place. A private from Alabama had whooped his glee at being able to return home, and he didn't wait for the official surrender. That night, he left everything in his tent and started south. About midnight, Jacob quietly stole into the tent while the private's tentmates were sitting around the fire outside and took the man's Springfield rifle and his cartridge box.

The cartridge box had only ten rounds, but Jacob now had a rifle with which to defend himself and shoot game for food. Before leaving the tent, he looked around for more, and found two other cartridge boxes that together had another thirty rounds. That same night, he took the Springfield and ammunition, the Remingtons, and his bowie knife to an abandoned farmhouse near their encampment and hid them under the front porch.

The surrender took less time than he'd thought it would. On April 26th, his company marched to Durham Station and presented their formation to General Sherman and several other Union Generals. They were read the articles of surrender and then stacked their weapons and equipment. They were free to leave, but no transportation would be provided.

Most headed west toward Tennessee and Mississippi. A few began walking north to Virginia. Others went south toward Georgia, Alabama, and Florida. Jacob went back to the farmhouse to retrieve his weapons and bedroll, and then started walking through the trees toward the southwest.

Over the duration of the war, Jacob had learned he was safer if he trusted no one but himself, and he was even more of that frame of mind where Union troops were concerned. Just as he had, the men of the Union Army had lost friends in battle and would probably welcome the opportunity for some revenge. Since the Union Army was in virtual control of the South, it was unlikely anything done to a former Confederate soldier would be investigated, let alone punished.