Grist For The Mill (eBook)

Chapter 2
February 1861
The War Clouds Gather

February of 1861 brought a feeling of doubt and unrest to the people in the Ozarks of the border states of Arkansas and Missouri. They clamored for the news that came up the rivers on steamers, over the rough roads by courier, or by the telegraph line on the Wire Road. The latter was a military road which had been cut through the forests or laid across the prairie from the terminus of the Pacific railroad at Rolla, Missouri to the federal post at Fort Smith, Arkansas, some ten years before. It also provided a means of communication by stage coach to Western Arkansas, Texas and California. The telegraph line stretched from St. Louis to the thriving Southern Missouri metropolis of Springfield and on over the rich farmlands to the crest of the Boston mountain range, until it descended to the Arkansas River at Fort Smith. It was kept humming with news and military orders.

Even though the region about Bob Hastings’ mill on the Osage was 250 miles from the nearest railroad and eighty miles from steamboat service on the Arkansas River at Van Buren, contact with the outside world was not difficult at Elkhorn or Mudtown, telegraph stations nearby on the “big road.” Butterfield stages from St. Louis and the East brought periodicals which provided national and world news. Local and state news could be found in The Arkansian, published at Fayetteville, the largest village in Northwest Arkansas in Washington County, some twenty miles south, and in the nearby Van Buren papers.

Peaceloving farmers, village merchants and professional men throughout Northwest Arkansas were alarmed by the chain of events that followed the election of Lincoln and the subsequent secession of South Carolina on December 20, 1860. Reports of secession celebrations in New Orleans, Memphis, Mobile and other principal cities of the South increased anxiety.

Northwest Arkansas was in a most exposed position. The Mason and Dixon line, the survey that separated Pennsylvania from Maryland and Virginia, became known as a mythical dividing line between North and South. Kentucky and Missouri, two border states claimed by both North and South, would be in a dangerous position if an actual national conflict should follow the election of Lincoln. The adjoining border country of Tennessee and Arkansas was in equal danger of being pulled apart. So, too, was eastern Kansas. Massacres and bitter border warfare between the Free Soilers or Jayhawkers and the Border Ruffians, as the antislavery Free Soilers termed the proslavery men of Missouri, had already earned the newly admitted state the title of “Bloody Kansas.” Feelings ran high in the western counties of Missouri where a large proportion of the population had tried in vain to make Kansas a slave state.

If hostilities came, it would be no gentleman’s war, but the most ruthless type of savage fighting. Arkansas was particularly unfortunate in its location. Missouri and Kansas, with bitter memories of their scarceburied dead, lay to the north, and to the west was the Indian Territory, settled by Creeks, Cherokees, Choctaws and other relocated tribes. Southern sympathizers would lose no time in obtaining the aid of the Indigenous Peoples to help repel the tide of invasion from the north and to cow the Union men of Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas. While the Ozark mountain regions of the two latter states were filled with men loyal to the federal government, the level, richer areas of both were dominated by active proslavery men, fearful of losing their power and determined to keep it at all costs.

Bob Hastings, was in Bentonville with his son, Jim, when news came that South Carolina had carried out her threat to secede. After loading the needed provisions into their wagon, Bob treated his son by taking him to Clark’s Hotel for lunch where they were served by Black waiters at the long table.

An abundance of food was offered family-style with the plates refilled until a body could eat no more. Although he was ravenous from the drive and subsequent shopping tour in the crisp, winter air, Jim listened attentively to the conversation about him. The subject, of course, was the threatening dissolution of the Union. Word had just come in by stagecoach from the telegraph station on the Wire Road. Its passengers had alighted and were at the table talking excitedly between bites.

A tall man -- a cattle buyer, Jim decided -- was talking to another stranger across the table. “Just as I figured, they meant what they were saying; it wasn’t any bluff. They’ve got some mighty determined men in Carolina and they won’t stop at anything to get what they want.”

“Nope,” agreed the stranger, “Not even if it wrecks the most promising freedomloving country in the world. I hope the federal government can get them back in the Union before any other states follow their example. Business is good now, just the way it is, and there’s a heap of opportunities for a man if they’ll shut up their squabbling and try to make something out of this new country.”

“I take it you’re a newcomer to this section, sir?” inquired Bob Hastings.

“Yes, my first visit here. I’ve been spending some time up at a little place called Granby fifty miles north of here in Missouri. We’re opening up a rich lead mine there. I’m a mining man, myself, and I never did see such good prospects for handling rich deposits of ore so close to the surface.”

“Well, the price of lead ought to go up in a hurry if we get into a shooting scrap,” volunteered the other man, “and I reckon good horses and prime cattle will do a sight better, too.”

“Yes, but we’re just getting our mine underway. If trouble breaks out there, we won’t be able to develop it. We need peace and progress. We need to see that railroad getting down to Springfield so we won’t have so far to haul the ore once we get producing on a big scale. This country don’t want war and it don’t want secession. It’s got to go on like it has been for the good of everyone in it.”

“Amen to that, my friend,” said Bob Hastings fervently.

The tall man pushed his chair back and began to pick his teeth. “Nope, no more,” he said, waving away a waiter bearing coffee. “If you ask me, you’d better look out for trouble whether you want it or not. And mark my words, gentlemen, if the other states go out like South Carolinaand I’ll gamble that they willand Abe Lincoln tries to bring them back by force, they’ll see my home state of Missouri right behind the Southern states in their fight. Our people won’t be intimidated either.”

While the older men gathered about the bar in another room of the long, rambling building, Jim rushed outside, attracted by shouting in the street. Boys ran about yelling, “Hurrah for South Carolina! Hurrah for our side!” He followed them to the square, then to the courthouse where he saw a large group of excited men, all talking and asking questions in eager tones. He recognized Lawyer Spears and the county judge. Both were addressing little knots of farmers and merchants, most of whom had closed their doors to mix with the throng. Jim saw laborers had quit their work to hear the latest news and he noted several Black men looking on from the outer fringe of the crowd. He pushed his way through the throng to hear what the judge was saying.

“And I tell you gentlemen, if South Carolina won’t stand for being governed by a black Republican, the other states of the South won’t either. And Arkansas will join her proud sisters in resisting the attacks of the Abolitionists. We won’t be dictated to by any group of slave stealers; we’ll fight before we relinquish our rights and property. ‘Course those men in Columbia might be a mite hasty in jumping the gun, and it may be that some sort of compromise can be worked out. I sure hope so, but it’s my idea that it’s easier to get what you want by putting up a bold front than it is to take insults lying down. Those men back there know a lot more about national affairs than we do, and it’ll be our best bet to follow in their footsteps.”

Jim elbowed his way over to where Lawyer Spears was talking. “But I tell you boys, better keep your shirts on. We ain’t hankering for trouble. Those cotton planters and politicians will probably cool off soon enough if Lincoln and his friends don’t rile them up too much, and so far we ain’t seen no indication of them doing that. The Administration probably knows you can catch more flies with honey than you can chasing after them with muskets. We might better keep cool heads and see what happens in the other states before we get too high and mighty here in Arkansas. ‘Member how my old motherLord, rest her soulalways used to say ‘Less said, sooner mended.’ But I wish for the sake of the country, that old Henry Clay was directing affairs in Washington.”

A shout of approbation followed Spears’ brief address. Clearly the crowd felt as he did. Jim felt reassured when he saw the judge, who had evidently heard the conclusion of the Spear’s remarks, advance and shake the lawyer’s hand. “You’re right, Hank. We sure need a man of Clay’s caliber right now. I’d a’thought Douglas might have taken his place, but since he hasn’t, we’d best set back easy like and see what happens before we get too much het up about it.”

The sober advice had a good effect upon the crowd, which began to break up...