But to the south of us lay a greater peril than that in northwestern Arkansas. The Confederates had seized, and were tenaciously holding, the Tennessee, Cumberland and Mississippi Rivers, the main arteries of our southern trade. So long as these highways of commerce were obstructed, the business of our city languished. Moreover, if the forces of the enemy were permitted to gather unmolested on these water-courses, they would soon be able to march against us in battle array. To meet this impending danger, to make such an invasion impracticable, if not impossible, by the order of General Halleck an army was rapidly gathered on the Mississippi above Columbus, Kentucky. General Grant had been fortunately ordered to organize, drill, and lead these troops. To join his command many soldiers were sent by Halleck from the encampments in and around St. Louis. I saw one morning a regiment of stalwart men from Indiana, marching with elastic step down Pine Street to the levee, their every movement instinct with exuberant life, and singing, in clear strong tones, “John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave; John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave; John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave; His soul is marching on! Glory, halle-hallelujah! Glory, halle-hallelujah! Glory, halle-hallelujah! His soul is marching on.” That was about the middle of January, 1862. That famous war song may have been sung before in our city, but this was the first time that I had heard it. It thrilled me through and through. That to me was an ecstatic moment. So it evidently was to the crowd that lined the street. They looked on as if entranced. Tears started in many eyes, and when the song, so prophetic of triumph, ended, the throng burst out into rapturous, ringing cheers. And the patriots who sang those inspiring words were on their way to swell the ranks of Grant’s army. Into the souls of all that heard them on that day came the assurance of victory.