City was not marked by any
noteworthy event. The Capitol was deserted. The Governor and most of
the State officials had departed the previous day, in the direction of
Booneville. We marched through the principal streets, and found many
of the people delighted at our coming. We occupied the State House,
and, of course, unfurled our flag from its cupola. A steamboat, seized
at the landing, was pressed into our service for use further up the
stream. An encounter with the Rebels was eagerly desired.

We left a full regiment, a large force in those days, to retain
possession of the place, and then pushed on in pursuit. The Rebels
had disabled the railway, taking off nearly all the rolling stock and
destroying a large bridge four miles west of the city. As the point
where they had fled lay upon the river, we pursued them by water. At
noon, on the 16th, General Lyon left Jefferson City for Booneville.
Within twenty-four hours he fought his first battle in Missouri.

It is slow work to proceed with a steamboat where one's way must be
felt. Though we had only fifty miles to move, we advanced less than
thirty before nightfall. Touching at a landing on the left bank of the
river, fifteen miles below Booneville, a scout from the enemy's camp
came easily into our hands. From being a scout of the enemy he became
our scout, as he revealed in his fright all we wished to know. The
enemy, confident of an easy victory, was waiting our approach, and
expressed the most lively intention of destroying us all in the
twinkling of an eye.

Experience had not then demonstrated that there is little difference
in the bravery of Americans, when well officered. Each side cherished
the delusion that it had a monopoly of courage and endurance. One
Southern man was thought equal to five Northern men in a fair contest,
and if the former were given the advantage of a defensive position,
any odds of numbers would be taken. There was nearly, though not
quite, as much boasting on the part of our own press and people.
The first severe battles made an end of the greater part of this
gasconading.

It is said the most trying moment on shipboard is when the deck,
previous to an engagement, is sprinkled with saw-dust to receive the
blood yet unshed. No man can know whose blood will be first to moisten
that dust, or whose life will be passed away before the action is
over. So on the eve of that first battle in Missouri, as I reclined
in the cabin of our flag-