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May 3-4,1986 Eureka Springs, Ark.
Before the 125th anniversary reenactment in Virginia, we attended a very minor event in the spring of 1986 at Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It was of the "dog and pony show" variety. The presence of the reenactors was not to a recreate an episode of the Civil War. Instead the event sponsors saw Eureka Springs rather as a rustic, backwoods place in the foothills of the Ozarks for reenactors to have fun.
Eureka Springs, sometimes called "the little Switzerland of America" has a known history of being a health resort. In 1854, a pioneer doctor discovered that the bubbling springs in the area had a therapeutic value and within 25 years of that discovery, a town was built. Hundreds of thousands of visitors have descended on Eureka Springs in the last hundred years merely to bathe in the waters, shop the many antique and curio stores, or stay in one of many hotels that overlook the magnificent Ozark mountains the town is built on. A mid-nineteenth century steam locomotive, owned by the Eureka Springs and North Arkansas Railroad Company, runs back and forth along 5 mile track (at a snails pace) while serving champagne dinners to select high paying patrons in the club car.
For the May encampment/reenactment, we were asked to camp along the foothills of the Boston Mountains (near the railroad tracks) to give the champagne diners something to look out their windows at beside rocks and trees. To the untrained eye of the tourist, we may have looked like hobos or refugees after a disaster. The reenactors were sweaty and unwashed with home a simple canvas tent over a thin layer of straw. A number of beer-filled coolers were stashed in these tents. Skillets and/or camp pots filled with beans, bacon, and coffee smoldered over fires that emitted more smoke than heat. When it came time to go into the city limits of Eureka Springs, for the afternoon parade or to window shop, the train would stop to let the reenactors on board. The dining car was off limits to us, but instead we were packed into one of the boxcars behind the locomotive (which made us feel like the Jews on the way to Auschwitz or other recreational camp).
The train had to travel in reverse all the way back to the depot. The Federal camp was at the end of the 5-mile line and there was no "turn around" track once it reached this point. Going backwards after it left the Federal area, the train stopped about 2 miles later to pick up all the 'johnnies" and their ladies who wished to stroll the avenues as well. The organized parade we participated in took us along the winding streets of the town, and then later we all stopped at a local grog shop for dinner.
On Saturday afternoon, we had a skirmish near the train depot. Not sure where the fight originated, but it concluded at the depot. The "johnnies" apparently came from a hundred yards back, deep in the woods on both sides of the train track. Slowly they advanced until us Federals skedaddled. I had a 45-caliber pocket derringer at this time, which I yanked from my boot to fire a last shot at a snarling greyback. The derringer misfired so I lunged forward, as if to choke him and I was gang tackled by 4 or 5 of the stinking scarecrows and hauled to the ground.
Later, as we boarded the train to return to our encampments, Dick Stauffer let us in on a little scheme he'd been discussing with Frank Kirtley and Bill Fannin. We had just finished the depot skirmish and most everyone was fagged out, but Dickson declared that the "johnnies" would not suspect a surprise attack so soon after returning to camp. Captain Dick proposed that just as soon as we got off the train, we would go mountain climbing to get behind the rear of the "johnny" camp.
This whole area was part of the foothills of the Boston Mountains with a high ridge rising about a hundred feet above us, stretching all the way back to town. Frank Kirtley led the way and like "billy goats" we climbed until we reached a narrow path hugging the edge of the ravine. Thin looking trees and wild shrubs dotted the gradual rise of the mountain on our left. On our right was a rocky chasm where one slip could mean instant doom.
We traveled quietly and in single file for almost two miles, as the crow flies. The ground on our right was beginning to level out to a more gentle approach with the valley floor, where the railroad tracks lay. Vegetation in the form of a few sickly trees and brush took root between the rocks and boulders here. On our final approach to the enemy camp, an entire wall of brush hid us from prying eyes.
Cautioned into silence, we crept out of the brush into the open where a smooth plain, about 50 yards long, descended into the back of the Confederate camp. No activity around the camp was evident. The graybacks were probably inside their tents snoring or nursing a jug of 'shine, I mused silently. Twenty-five or thirty of us had made the trek over the foothills to a position where we formed one long line of blue, from one end of the plain to the other. Captain Dick paused for about one or two seconds once he'd seen we were lined up, then with a nod, we trotted down hill. Once we started to run and we began to pick up momentum, we found it impossible to stop. Some of the guys stumbled, looking more like Jack and Jill tumbling down the hill. We were about half way down when the johnnies bolted out of their tents in alarm. They must have heard the earthquake of our feet descending upon them. Within a moment we were among them, smiling and panting out of breath like kids on the playground. One of our guys said something about…. "and all you have is LIGHT BEER!"
After we'd tossed back a few brews, compliments of "johnny reb", we hastened back to our own camp to dine on hastily overcooked flesh from a pig (bacon) and knock off even more brews. Hig and Dick may have started a game of dominos, while everyone else found their own diversions till sleep tugged at the eyelids. Sometime during the early evening, just after it got dark, we were visited by a number of gray clad apparitions who peppered us with squirt guns. In response we threw beer cans at them, after we'd emptied them first.