Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/prisonerofmillor00haze Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). THE PRISONER OF THE MILL; Or, Captain Hayward’S “Body Guard.” by LIEUTENANT-COLONEL HAZELTINE. Author of “The Border Spy.” New York: The American News Co., Publishers’ Agent, No. 121 Nassau Street. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by Sinclair Tousey, Publishers’ Agent, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER I. _Brother and Sister—Forebodings—Nettleton._ WAR! Oh! how much of misery is expressed in that one word! It tells its own tale of woe, of blood, of broken hearts and desolated homes, of hopes blighted, of poverty and crime, of plunder, peculation and official tyranny, of murder and sudden death. In short, it develops all the baser passions of the human heart, changing a peaceful world to a world of woe, over which the destroying angel well might weep. Come, oh, thou angel, PEACE! The “Army of the Mississippi,” as it was termed, had been unsuccessful in their pursuit of the rebel General Price. A portion of it, or rather the division commanded by General Sigel, had advanced from Springfield, Missouri, upon the Wilson creek road, as far as the famous battle-ground rendered immortal by the death of General Lyon, but finding no enemy, it had encamped upon Grand Prairie, a few miles to the west of the bloody field. All in camp was upon the “tip-toe of expectation.” The lovely scene spread out before the view, was sufficient to inspire the heart of man to great and glorious deeds. The broad, rolling prairie lay there, like heaven’s great carpet. The long grass waved in the breeze, presenting the appearance of a deep-green sea, undulating in low swells as if Queen Mab’s wand were wafting over it; the autumn’s frost had changed thousands of the delicate emerald blades to purple, yellow, and scarlet, while, intermixed with these, was the white prairie flower, lending to the scene an almost fairy-like aspect. The large “Fremont” tents were arranged in rows, in a tasty manner; flags were flying; bands were discoursing sweet strains which echoed far and wide; squads of soldiers in vari-colored uniforms were lounging lazily on the grass, while those detailed for mess or guard duty, were busily prosecuting their assigned tasks. To the east of the camp appeared a wall of forest-kings, their verdure, also, touched by the frost, presenting a variety of colors, and glistening in the sunlight.