History of Morgan's Cavalry

CHAPTER V

It was with the forty-five or fifty men of this company who unhesitating followed his fortunes when he went to the Southern army, and a few other kindred spirits who immediately attached themselves to him, before he had won rank or fame, that Morgan began his career, and around them as a nucleus he gathered his gallant command. Although thoroughly Southern in sentiment, and frank to the last degree in its expression, the members of the company, with one or two exceptions, made no effort to go South until Captain Morgan signified his readiness to lead them, in this, as in all else, they awaited his decision and directions. The extreme illness of his wife, who died in July, 1861, required, during the early summer, his constant presence in Lexington, and he did not determine to act until after the troops, posted at Camp Dick Robinson and the Home guard organizations, began to give unmistakable evidences of hostility to all persons not "loyal."

When the order was issued for the disarming of the State-guard, Morgan determined to save his guns at all hazards. The State-guard was by this time virtually disbanded, many of its officers of high rank, elected under the impression that they were Southern men, had declared for the other side, and various other influences tended to cripple and demoralize it. An officer then, of that body, who decided to resist the edict, disarming his men and leaving them defenseless, in the reach of armed and bitter political opponents, could look for little backing from his comrades. His best chance was to make his way at once to the Confederate lines in Southern Kentucky. This Morgan resolved to do.

On Friday night, September 20, 1861, he confided to a few of his most reliable and trusted men his determination and plans, and taking the guns from the armory, loaded them into two wagons and started them out of Lexington on the Versailles road under a small guard. The men composing this guard left on such short notice that few of them had time to prepare and carry with them even necessary clothing, scarcely time to take leave of their families. They marched out of town with their cartridge-boxes belted on, their rifles on their shoulders, loaded, and their bayonets fixed. A regiment of Federal troops was encamped that night at the fair ground, about a mile from town, and many of the officers and men were in town at the time the guns were removed. In order to deceive as to his movements and lull any suspicion that might exist of his design to move the guns, Captain Morgan caused twelve or fifteen men to parade and tramp heavily about the armory for an hour or two after the wagons had been loaded and started, and so created the impression that his company was engaged in drilling.

The wagons were not stopped in the town, and only one soldier was encountered who was made prisoner by the escort, carried off some twenty miles, and then released.

Morgan accompanied the wagons for a short distance until it was apparent that there was no immediate danger to be apprehended, and returned to Lexington.

On the next day when it was ascertained that the guns had been taken away, and no trace of them could be discovered, a great excitement was gotten up. That very day had been appointed for their seizure by the authorities, and the authorities had been completely tricked and baffled.

The loyal citizens who had calculated upon witnessing the discomfiture of the "Rifles," and of all their backers, were disappointed, and had the farther mortification of learning that the wagons containing the coveted prizes had passed the night before, in the sight of them all, to a place where they dared not follow. Of course many taunts were flung at the fooled spies, and disappointed patriots; and at length the angry discussions brought on a shooting affray between some of the "Rifles," and a part of the troops and Home-guards. The regiment stationed at the fair grounds, was brought into town to quell this affair, and two pieces of artillery were planted to sweep the principal streets—and from that date, for four years, Lexington was under military rule.

Captain Morgan, for whose arrest an order was immediately issued, communicated during the day with such of his men as desired to follow him, and at nightfall left Lexington with them and rejoined those who had gone before. He passed through Anderson county to Nelson, and halted a few miles from Bardstown. Here he was joined by Captain John Cripps Wickliffe, subsequently Lieutenant Colonel of the Ninth Kentucky Infantry, and a very gallant officer. Captain Wickliffe had determined also to save his guns and take his company, or all that would follow him, to the Confederate army. The greater portion of his company, one of the finest in the State-guards, elected to go with him. Desirous, while about it, of doing a brisk business in guns, he confiscated those of a neighboring Home-guard company, and brought them to Morgan's camp—they were immediately placed in the hands of the unarmed men, who, finding an organized force making for the Confederate lines, attached themselves to it. Many such men, anxious to go South, but afraid to go without a leader, came to this camp during the four or five days that it was maintained.

On account of the kindness and liberality of the people who lived in that neighborhood, and who supplied its inmates with provisions of all kinds, this camp was entitled "Camp Charity," and long will it be remembered.

By the common wish and consent, Morgan took command of all the forces, and when, on Saturday evening, September 28th, he resumed his march, he was at the head of some two hundred men. He encountered no enemy. The Home-guards, who mustered strong in the region through which he passed, thought his force too formidable to attack and kept out of his path. When he would hear of two bodies of them, likely to give him trouble if united, he would pass between them and scare both.

After two days and nights hard marching, he reached Green river on Monday evening, September 30th. He received an enthusiastic welcome from the Confederate troops stationed there, most of whom were Kentuckians, and many of them knew him well.

Colonel Roger W. Hanson, the officer in command, was himself from Lexington, and was a warm personal friend of Morgan.

There were, at Green river, encamped on the Southern side of the stream, at this date, the Second Kentucky Infantry (Hanson's own regiment), six or seven hundred strong, Byrne's Battery, and four companies of Tennessee cavalry.

Colonel Thomas Hunt, an uncle of Captain Morgan, was also there with two companies of the regiment he was then organizing. Of all the general officers (he was made a General) which Kentucky gave to the Confederate service, least justice had been done by fame to Roger Hanson, and it is strange that such should be the case. Not only was he well known, constantly talked of, greatly loved, and ardently admired by the Kentuckians, but his name was familiar in all parts of the army. It is true that his early death blighted the reputation he was rapidly winning, but it is hard for those who knew him to understand how such a man could have failed to attract more general and more lively interest. While a very young man, he served with distinction in Mexico, returning home he indulged for a short period in an erratic career which astonished even the Kentuckians, and suddenly quitted it to beat all rivals at the bar, and become a leading politician. Friends and opponents agreed in pronouncing him one of the most effective speakers in the State. His youth was too much occupied in more agreeable pursuits, to admit of his employing profitably the educational advantages which were offered him, but his mind, although unused to the discipline of study, mastered all that it grappled with. He read less and comprehended more law than any member of the profession in Kentucky. His vigorous native intellect and acute sense, were perhaps more formidable, for this reason. Want of science made his method of attack more original and irresistible. In the contests of the bar and the hustings, he was a sort of heavy armed partisan, his irregular, rapid onslaught crushed opposition. The learning and eloquence of his ablest antagonists availed little against his manly logic, and often sounded like the merest folly after having been subjected to his telling ridicule. All of his ideas seemed clearly defined; his mind was never in a mist. His insight into character was extraordinary, and he had the most remarkable faculty of accurate observation and life-like reproduction, especially of ludicrous traits and scenes. His command of humorous, graphic, forcible expression was unequaled. He had very many noble traits of character. He was candid and truthful to bluntness. His scorn of dissimulation and affectation of any sort, gave his manner and speech a bluffness, and apparent want of sympathy with the feelings of other men, which caused him often to be misunderstood. I believe that he would rather that the whole world should have thought him a scoundrel, than have seemed for one moment, in his own eyes, a hypocrite. His will was dauntless, his resolution inflexible, his courage high. He had little opportunity, during his military life, to show the stuff that was in him, and to prove that he possessed other qualities befitting an officer beside courage and the strictest attention to the instruction, the comfort, and the discipline of his men. Notwithstanding that he was a very strict disciplinarian—and Kentucky troops have little love of discipline—he was very popular with his men. They retaliated by nick-naming him "Bench-leg," or "Old flint-lock," and admired him all the more intensely, the more frequently that he showed them that they could never deceive him nor attempt it with impunity. Once, thinking that the health of his regiment was getting too bad, and that many cases of illness, reported as severe, were but ruses to escape doing duty, he published an order that from that date "there should be but two sick men at the same time in each company," and caused it to be rigidly enforced. No one who ever saw Hanson can forget him. In stature he was a little under the medium hight, and he was powerfully but ungracefully built. His bulky and ungainly form indicated great but awkward strength. His shoulders were huge, round, and stooping, and he sat on his horse in the attitude in which a sick man bends over the fire. His head was large and perfectly round. His complexion was fair and florid, and his eyes gray and full of light. His strong and marked features, when he became excited, worked strangely and apparently without being moved by the same influences, and the alert movement of his head, at such moments, was in singular contrast to his otherwise heavy inactive manner. His face, when he was calm and giving careful attention to any thing said to him, wore a look of exceeding sternness, enhanced by a peculiar twitch of the muscles of the mouth and eye. He had a German face with all the Irish expressions. A wound received in a duel had shortened one leg and gave him a singular gait, something between a jerk and a roll. His voice was deep and guttural, and his utterance rapid, decided, abrupt, like that of a man who meant all that he said, and knew that it would produce an effect. No one could look him in the eye and fail to perceive that he was every inch a man—a strong, brave, manly nature looked out in every lineament of his face. Captain Wickliffe attached his company to the regiment which Colonel Hunt was organizing. Of the stragglers who had come out with Captain Morgan, some went one way and some another—only eight or ten remained with him. Although not yet in the Confederate service, he at once commenced the active and daring work which laid the foundation of his celebrity and brought him at once into general notice. The cavalry which had been stationed there previously to his coming, had confined themselves to doing picket duty, and had never sought or been required to do other service. This monotonous work, altogether devoid of excitement, did not accord with his nature, which demanded the stimulus of adventure; he, moreover, intuitively understood then, and declared the fact since so completely demonstrated, that cavalry can be employed to far better advantage, if kept well out upon the front or flanks of the army to which it belongs, and close upon the enemy, than by exacting of it the sort of duty which can just as well be performed by infantry. The Federal advanced forces were then stationed at Elizabethtown, and were soon pushed to Nolin Creek, distant about twenty-one or two miles from Munfordsville. Captain Morgan had at first not more than twenty mounted men of his own company, but with these and with volunteers from the other cavalry who were inspired by his example, he made frequent "scouts," and watched and reported every thing that transpired upon the front. These "excursions" were undertaken about four or five times in every week, and would usually occupy twenty-four hours. The scouting party would set out at or a little before dark; before reaching the lines of the enemy, some exciting chases would be had after the countrymen who were in Federal pay or sympathy, and who, always on the lookout for us, would start at break-neck speed for the camp of their friends, pursued by our foremost riders. At first they tried to do this courier duty on horseback, but finding that we were better mounted than they were, and that, when hard pressed and forced to take to the brush, their horses were abandoned for ever, they betook themselves to a less expensive mode of conveying information. They were fleet of foot and knew the paths through the thickets and hills perfectly, and it was difficult to follow and impossible to catch them. We, also, had many friends among the country people living near the enemy's camp, and as we would prowl all night around and among the Federal pickets and outposts, seeking to entrap the unwary, many were the secret conferences which we held in the shade of the woods with faithful informants, who generally closed their reports with emphatic adjurations that, "For the love of God," we would never breathe their names.

Once or twice Captain Morgan passed himself as a Federal officer, in close vicinity to their camps, but this ruse could not be repeated often with success. Once we were guided safely out of a very dangerous situation by an intensely "loyal" man who thought he was assisting some friends who had lost their way. When day returned the scouting party would take a position on the "line of retreat" at a convenient but safe distance from the enemy, rest and refresh men and horses, observe closely if there was any unusual movement in the hostile lines, and as the day declined and it became evident that all was likely to remain quiet, it would return to camp. After the first two or three weeks of this sort of service, and its advantages had become apparent, an order was given to turn over to Captain Morgan some thirty "condemned" artillery horses. With a little care and nursing they were rendered tolerably fit for his purposes, and he was thus enabled to mount, the better part of his company. I knew a scout to be performed, with most of the men riding these same rejected horses, of sixty-eight miles in twenty hours. Although these scouts and expeditions were not nearly so exciting as were subsequent ones, when the cavalry of both armies had become more accustomed to them and more enterprising, yet they were very pleasant episodes in the dull tedious life of the camp, and excellent preparation for really hard and hazardous service. Morgan himself derived great benefit from the experience they gave him, for he rarely if ever missed them. He always knew how to direct and how to estimate the scouting duty of his command, one of the most important, by the practical knowledge thus acquired. Nor will it injure any man who is called upon to exercise the duties of a General to take a few lessons in this school. The fatigue and discomfort from want of sleep attending these expeditions to those who went constantly upon them, was almost as great, as that suffered in later and far more difficult service.

The first skirmish in which Morgan's company or any portion of it was engaged, was a very insignificant and bloodless one, and served only to illustrate the character of the apprehensions which are apt to assail raw troops.

It was upon the second or third scout that Captain Morgan had taken, that we for the first time met the enemy. Contrary to the usual practice, the scouting party had started out early in the day; it consisted of some fifteen of Morgan's own company, twenty-five of the Tennessee cavalry, and ten or fifteen volunteers, about fifty in all. After proceeding some twelve miles in the direction of Nolin Creek, the advance of our party suddenly discovered a body of Federal infantry moving down the road toward us. Their bayonets glistening and just perceptible above a little rise three or four hundred yards off notified the videttes of their vicinity. They did not see us, and we immediately dismounted and posted ourselves in the thickets on both sides of the road, sending the horses to the rear under charge of eight or ten men. No plan of battle was adopted, although many were proposed—the various suggestions, however, that were thrown out, in the inspiration of the moment are lost to history. I remember, however, that one man gave it as his decided opinion, that we ought to charge them immediately on horseback, and he then rode rapidly back to Green river to report the situation to Colonel Hanson. Enjoining silence on the talkative, Captain Morgan went forward on foot to a house, about one hundred and forty or fifty yards in front of our position, and looked out from a window, which commanded a full view of their approach, upon the enemy. He saw a body of sixty or seventy, but this came so close upon him that he was compelled to leave the house before he could discover whether it was the advance of another and larger body, or was unsupported. Fortunately he effected his retreat from the house and rejoined his party without discovery by the enemy. The latter continued to march on, past the house, and toward our position, until, within forty or fifty yards of us, something discovered us to them and they halted. Captain Morgan immediately stepped out into the road, fired at and shot the officer riding at the head of the column. Without returning the fire his men fell back to the house before mentioned, situated on a long low knoll, through which, to the left of the house as we faced, was a cut of the railroad. This afforded a pretty good position and one which we should have taken ourselves. Here they deployed and opened a volley upon us, which would have been very fatal if we had been in the tops of instead of behind the trees. Both sides then continued to load and fire rapidly. With us, every man ought to have behaved well, for each acted upon his own responsibility. Captain Morgan with a few of the more enterprising, and one or two personal followers who always kept close to him, worked his way very nigh to the enemy, and did the only shooting that was effective. We had neither drill nor any understanding among ourselves. The fight was much like a camp-meeting, or an election row. After it had lasted about ten or twelve minutes, an intelligent horse-holder came up from the rear, breathless, and announced that the enemy was flanking us, and that he had been largely reinforced. The receipt of this important intelligence necessitated the withdrawal of the forces, and every man withdrew after his own fashion and in his own time. Our loss, was one man slightly wounded and several shot through the clothes. It was as bloody as an affair between Austrian and Italian outposts.

The horse-bolder who brought the information which led to our retreat, was evidently one who had carefully studied the military articles in the newspapers, and spoke from the influence of a sudden recollection of the "science" he had thus acquired, rather than from accurate observation. This may be safely asserted, as we were not pursued by the enemy, and next day, upon returning, learned that they had commenced retreating about the same time that we did, and that they were but a scouting party like ourselves. Two or three men who got first to Green river, before Captain Morgan's report was received there, stated that we had encountered a strong Federal column advancing to drive our forces away from Woodsonville; that we had attacked, and after a hard fight checked it, but that unless Captain Morgan was immediately reinforced it would probably resume its march. This statement created much excitement at Woodsonville, and was generally credited. But Colonel Hanson treated the gentlemen who brought it rather roughly, and said (with an unnecessary reflection on a gallant arm of the service) that it was a "Cavalry Story."

Several days after this affair, Morgan made his first narrow escape of capture. Hanson determined to send a force to the Nolin outposts sufficiently strong to drive them in and create serious confusion and alarm in the Federal camps. He accordingly ordered the Major commanding the battalion of Tennessee cavalry, to take his entire force, about two hundred and forty men, and, conducted by Morgan, who went with twenty of his men, to make the attack upon the outposts. This force started about nightfall. Morgan thinking that there were now men enough upon the road to accomplish some of his most favorite plans, was in high spirits. His own men, who had never in their lives seen so much cavalry on the march, believed the column invincible.

The Tennesseeans who had long murmured at the inaction to which they had been condemned, were anxious for a fight. The Major arranged the plan with Captain Morgan—the latter was to get, with his twenty men, in the rear of the pickets on post, and then fire a gun. At this signal, the Major was to dash down with his battalion, and, picking up the pickets, charge down upon the base and reserve. In the meantime, Morgan expected to entertain the latter with an unlooked-for volley. It was proposed to push the plan as far as possible, even, if the first features were successfully and quickly executed, to an attack upon the camps.

But it happened that some five miles from Nolin, one of the country fellows, who was in the habit of running into the Federal lines at our approach, was surprised and arrested by Captain Morgan who was in the advance.

The women of whom there were several in the house where he was taken, made a terribly outcry and noise, and would not be pacified.

Captain Morgan moved on, but was shortly afterward informed by one of the men, that the Tennessee battalion had turned back. He rode to the Major and urged, but unsuccessfully, that the plan should not be abandoned. Determined, then, to go forward himself, he proceeded to the point where the pickets on the extreme front had usually stood, but they were gone. He halted his detachment here, and taking with him one of his best and most trusted men (private, afterward Captain John Sisson), started down the road on foot to reconnoiter. He had been gone but a short time, when the rear guard of the Tennessee battalion, about twenty strong, came up; it was commanded by Captain, afterward Colonel, Biffel. It seemed that the Major had conceived that the shrieks of the women would notify the enemy of his coming, and prevent his plan of surprising the picket posts and base from succeeding.

Finding that Morgan had still gone on, Biffel took advantage of his position in the rear of the returning battalion and came to support him. As soon as he got up and learned why we were halted, he turned into the thicket with his detachment, on the side of the road, opposite to that occupied by Morgan's. Just as he was doing this, a Federal column of cavalry came up the road, and hearing the noise of horses forcing they way through the brush, halted about one hundred yards from the point where we lay. The night was clear, and we could easily distinguish them in the moonlight. I had been left in command of the detachment, and would not permit the men to fire, lest it should endanger Captain Morgan's safety, who, if we were driven off, would probably be captured. I ordered, therefore, that not a shot should be fired, unless they resumed their march and came right upon us.

They remained at the spot where they had halted for perhaps twenty minutes, apparently in consultation, when they countermarched and went off rapidly. In a few minutes after they had disappeared, Captain Morgan and Sisson returned and gave an account of what had happened to them. They had walked along the road for fifteen or twenty minutes, when suddenly they heard the tramp of cavalry. They were in a stretch of the road darkened for some distance by the shade of heavy timber. This column came upon them, and they slipped aside some ten or fifteen paces into the woods. Captain Morgan estimated it at about one hundred and twenty men. After it had passed, it occurred to him that his men would be attacked by it, and he started back rapidly to rejoin them. The fatigue of running through the woods was soon too much for him and he was compelled to desist.

As he drew near to the point where he had left us and heard no firing, he conceived a true idea of the situation. Stealing cautiously along, he came upon the enemy, who, at the halt, had gone into the woods also. He was then compelled to lie closely concealed and perfectly still until the road was left clear by the retreat of the enemy. Fortunately his proximity was not discovered by the enemy when in this last situation.

Captain Morgan continued actively engaged in this sort of service until the troops were withdrawn from Woodsonville, when he was also ordered to Bowlinggreen. There the men were sworn into the service, the company regularly organized and officers elected. John H. Morgan was of course elected Captain; I was elected First Lieutenant; James West, Second Lieutenant; Van Buren Sellers, Third, or, more properly, Brevet Second Lieutenant. The strength of the company was then a little above the "minimum" required for organization, numbering sixty-seven privates.

Immediately after reaching Bowlinggreen, excellent horses were purchased and turned over to the company, by General Buckner's order, and saddles, bridles, tents, etc., were issued to it. It was already provided with the best guns and accouterments, and when the fitting up at Bowlinggreen was completed, no command in the Confederate service was better equipped, in any respect.

At this period two other companies, one commanded by Captain Thomas Allen of Shelbyville, Kentucky, and the other by Captain James Bowles of Louisville, but principally recruited in the neighborhood of Glasgow, were assigned to Captain Morgan's command at the earnest request of their officers and men. Bowles' company was not full, and was consolidated with another fragment of a company commanded by Lieutenant Churchill—the latter becoming First Lieutenant of the new organization.

The three companies composed "Morgan's Squadron," a popular misnomer by which, however, the command came, in a short time, to be regularly designated. Morgan's company became A, of this organization; Allen's, B; Bowles', C. The squadron remained quietly in camp, at Bowlinggreen, for two or three weeks after its organization. This time was profitably spent in instructing the men in drill and teaching them something of discipline. The first expedition taken after this, was to Grayson county, on the north side of Green river, to collect and bring to Bowlinggreen a large drove of cattle which had been purchased, but could not be brought out without a guard.

The "Home-guards" held this county in strong force; they had long expected a Confederate inroad, and had sternly determined to punish the invaders when they came. The squadron reached the ferry, at which it was directed to cross at night. We found the boats sunken, but raised them, filled up the holes bored in their bottoms, bailed them out, and by eight o'clock next morning we had one company across. The day was spent in crossing the cattle to the southern side of the river.

On the following evening, the entire squadron was transferred to the north side of the river and passed the night agreeably in chasing the Home-guards, who did not make a hard fight, but ran off some twenty or thirty miles to a neighboring county to "rally."

Shortly after his return to Bowlinggreen, from this expedition, Captain Morgan was ordered to the front again, and reported to Brigadier General Hindman, who commanded a brigade of infantry and a strong force of cavalry, in all three thousand or thirty-five hundred men, upon the extreme front of our line.

General Hindman's headquarters were at Bell's tavern, twenty-five miles from Bowlinggreen, and thirteen from Woodsonville, then occupied by the enemy, who had advanced to Green river, ten or fifteen days after we left there.

It would, perhaps, be more correct to say, that the enemy held Munfordsville, for although Woodsonville was virtually in his possession, and completely at his disposal, there were, at that date, none of his regiments encamped on the southern side of the river.

A few days before Morgan's arrival, had occurred the fight, in which Colonel Terry, of the Eighth Texas Cavalry (better known then as Terry's Rangers), was killed, and of which so many contradictory versions have prevailed. The Northern account has often been published, and if the many later and more important events have not crowded it out of memory, is familiar to all who read the Northern newspapers at that time. Without presuming to give a minute account of the fight, for I did not witness it, nor have I ever seen a report of it, I can present, in a few words, the idea which I derived from the description of men who were present, and which was generally received, just after the fight, in our army.

General Hindman had received information that a strong body of the enemy had crossed the river, and desiring to ascertain if this movement was preliminary to an advance of the entire army, he moved forward with the greater part of his infantry, some artillery and Terry's regiment of cavalry, to reconnoiter, and, perhaps, contest an advance, if it were made. When he arrived at the ground upon which the fight commenced, about three miles from the river, he discovered the enemy, and, supposing his force to be not stronger than his own, determined to engage him.

I am not familiar with the plan or details of the fight, but am under the impression that, when first seen, the enemy was slowly advancing, unaware of Hindman's vicinity, and that the latter screened the bulk of his force behind a large hill, upon the eastern side of the Bowlinggreen road, the summit of which he occupied with skirmishers, and posted his artillery some distance farther back, where it was partially concealed, and could yet sweep the road and the ground over which the enemy was advancing.

Terry was instructed to skirmish in the enemy's front, and draw him on, until his flank should be exposed to the infantry, that was masked behind the hill. It was the intention then, I have always understood, to attack vigorously with all the infantry, throw a part of it in the enemy's rear, and between him and the river, while Terry charged him on the other flank. One part of Terry's regiment, under his own immediate command, was on the right of the road at a considerable distance from any support. Another, commanded by one of his Captains, was posted nearer the infantry.

Hindman's plan to bring his whole force into action and cut off and capture a part of the enemy's, if such was his plan, was frustrated by the impatient ardor of Terry, who, after a very brief retreat before Willich's regiment of infantry, turned and charged it furiously. The regiment was deployed in skirmish order, and had barely time to "rally by fours," when Terry, of whose command they had, up to that moment, seen only a very few, came down on them. The Texians rode around the groups of four, shooting the men down with their revolvers and shot-guns. Seeing his Colonel engaged, the officer commanding the other portion of the regiment, charged the enemy nighest him with similar success. Terry and six of his men were killed, and perhaps twice that number wounded. All the witnesses on the Confederate side concurred in saying that fifteen or twenty of the Federals were killed, and as many more, at least, wounded. I passed over the ground shortly afterward as bearer of a flag of truce, and heard the same account from the citizens living near the scene of the fight. Willich's regiment was a very fine one, and its commander a very superior officer.

General Hindman was an officer of great dash and energy, and very ambitious—he was, therefore, just the man to encourage an enterprising subordinate, and give him free rein in that sort of service which keeps up the morale of an army at a time when it must remain inactive, reflects credit upon the commanding officer who directs it, and which rank and duty forbid a commanding officer to undertake himself. Although his imperious and exacting temper made him many enemies, he had other qualities which gained him devoted friends. One was a disposition (proceeding either from a desire to attach to himself men whose friendship he thought would be valuable, or from a real feeling of regard—perhaps from both) to go all lengths for a friend. He entered heartily into all of Morgan's plans, encouraged and gave him every facility to extend his enterprises, and seemed to entertain a peculiar pride and pleasure in his success. There is no doubt that there was something in his nature which made him cordially sympathize with every thing that was daring and adventurous. Morgan became very fond of him, and always spoke with pleasure of this brief service with him. Although almost constantly close upon the outposts of the enemy, sometimes in small detachments, and occasionally with every effective man, the squadron had no engagement except the picket fights, which were of constant occurrence. The reason of this was that the Federals never came outside of their lines, except for very short distances, and then in bodies so strong that we dared not attack them. The practice of firing upon and attacking pickets was then much condemned by the Federal officers, but no valid reason has ever been assigned for this condemnation. It is true that killing and annoying pickets does not decide the result of campaigns, neither do the minor skirmishes and partial battles which so frequently occur in all wars, yet it is the means of affecting the general result, and assisting to make it successful as much as any other method of harassing an enemy. If war is to be confined to sieges, pitched battles, etc., then every method of wearying, annoying and discouraging an adversary, of keeping him in doubt, or goading him to desperation, must be equally condemned. All stratagem must be discarded, and a return may as well be had to the polite but highly ridiculous practice of lines of battle saluting each other and refusing to fire first. There are certain rules of war whose observance humanity and the spirit of the age demand. Prisoners ought not to be killed or maltreated, unless in retaliation; the terms of capitulations and surrenders ought to be honorably fulfilled and observed; war ought not to be made on non-combatants. But the soldier ought to be content to take his chance. It is more soldierly to teach pickets to fight when attacked, than to complain of it, and a picket who will allow himself to be surprised on his post ought to be shot. At the time of which I write the Federal army at Green river was provided with no cavalry, or cavalry that was useless. Its commander, therefore, unless informed by his spies, whose reports were, of course, infrequent, was ignorant of all that transpired even immediately outside of his advance videttes, and it was impossible for him to know whether an attack on his picket line was made by a scouting party, or premised a serious affair. He was, then, obliged either to prepare for battle every time any thing of the kind occurred, greatly harassing his troops, or to take the risk of an attack when unprepared. It was an excellent means, too, of judging of the strength of an infantry camp and the changes made from time to time in it, to attack the picket line at various points, hear the "long rolls" beaten, and see the troops turn out, as occasionally could be done.

One or two adventures of Captain Morgan at this period attracted a good deal of notice. One of them, the burning of Bacon creek bridge, took place before he reported to Hindman. This bridge had been destroyed at the time our forces fell back from Woodsonville. It was a small structure and easily replaced, but its reparation was necessary to the use of the road. The Federal army then lay encamped between Bacon and Nolin creeks, the advance about three miles from Bacon creek—the outposts were scarcely half a mile from the bridge. A few days labor served to erect the wood work of the bridge, and it was ready to receive the iron rails, when Morgan asked leave to destroy it. It was granted, and he started from Bowlinggreen on the same night with his entire command, for he believed that he would find the bridge strongly guarded and would have to fight for it. Halting at daybreak a short distance from the river, he waited until night fell again before resuming his march. He crossed the ford at Woodsonville, which was fortunately not guarded, and dispersed a party of Home-guards, which, ignorant of his vicinity, had assembled at Munfordsville to carry off some Southern sympathizers of that place.

Pressing on vigorously he reached the bridge at midnight, and to his surprise and satisfaction found it without a guard; that which protected the workmen during the day, having been withdrawn at night. The bridge was set on fire and in three hours thoroughly destroyed—no interruption to the work was attempted by the enemy. The damage inflicted was trifling, and the delay occasioned of little consequence. The benefit derived from it by Morgan was two-fold—it increased the hardihood of his men in that species of service, and gave himself still greater confidence in his own tactics. Shortly after Woodsonville had been included within the picket lines of the enemy and occupied with troops, Captain Morgan with two men went at night to Hewlett's station, on the railroad, about two hundred yards from the picket line, and found the small building which was used as a depot in the possession of five or six stragglers, who were playing cards and making merry, and captured them. He set fire to the building, and when the troops had been called out by the bright light, he sent in a message by one of his prisoners to the effect that in the following week he would come and burn them out of Woodsonville.

On the evening of the 20th or 21st of January, Captain Morgan with five men left his camp at Bell's tavern, crossed the Green river at an unguarded ferry, and on the following day rode into Lebanon, some sixty miles from his point of departure. Several hundred troops were encamped near this place, and a great many stores were in the town and in a large building between the town and the nearest camp. The soldiers off or on duty were frequently passing to and fro through the town. Morgan destroyed the stores, and made all the stragglers prisoners; some of them he was obliged to release after taking their overcoats, with which he disguised his own men and was thus enabled to get quietly through some dangerous situations. He brought back with him nine prisoners, a large flag and several other trophies. Two companies of cavalry followed him closely, but he gained the river first, crossed and turned the boat adrift, just as his pursuers reached the bank. Next day he marched into Glasgow with his five men and nine prisoners in column, and the United States flag flying at the front. He scared the citizens of the place and two or three straggling Confederates, who were there, horribly. The flag and blue overcoats demoralised them.

When he reached his own camp the prisoners were quartered with different "messes," but were not placed under regular guard. The inmates of each tent, in which prisoners were placed, were held responsible for them. On this occasion it happened that some of the men (by means in which they were learned and adroit) had obtained several bottles of wine—sparkling catawba—and the prisoners were assured that this sort of wine was regularly issued to the Confederate cavalry by their commissaries. They approved the wine and the practice of including it in soldiers' rations, and five of them next morning begged, with tears in their eyes, to be received into the Confederate service. These adventures are not related because it is thought that they will excite any especial interest, but because they fairly represent the nature of the service in which Morgan was constantly engaged during the occupation of Southern Kentucky by the Confederate army, in the fall of 1861, and the greater part of the succeeding winter.

Although greatly inferior in dash and execution to the subsequent cavalry operations of the West, this service of Morgan's was much superior, in both, to any thing which had, up to that time, been attempted by either side, and it served to educate Morgan's men and Morgan himself for the successful conduct of more daring and far more important enterprises.

A strong and mutual feeling of regard and friendship commenced (during the period that we served with General Hindman), between the Eighth Texas (Terry's Rangers), and the squadron, which continued to the close of the war, growing warmer as Morgan's command grew in numbers, and, doubtless, it exists, now, in the hearts of the men, who composed the two organizations. This feeling interfered in some degree with discipline, for most of the men of both were young and wild, and inclined, when they could evade the vigilance of camp guards, to rove nocturnally and extensively, and neither, when on picket, would arrest or stop their friends from the other command.

The gallant Rangers paid dearly for their proud record, and few of those who used to roam and fight so recklessly then, are, I fear, living now, to recall the events which we witnessed together. The squadron remained with the forces under command of General Hindman until the evacuation of Bowlinggreen and the retreat from Kentucky. Then we left the scenes and the region with which we had become so familiar with sad hearts. We had hoped that when the signal for departure was sounded, it would be also the order to advance; that we would press on to recover the whole of Kentucky, and win victories that would give her to us forever, and the retreat seemed to us like a march to our graves. But a feeling of regret at leaving the country in which we had passed months of such pleasant and stirring service, was natural, even without other reasons for it. Men are apt to become attached to the localities where they have led free and active lives, and to connect with them agreeable associations. This country had many such for us, and that part especially between Bell's tavern on the one side of Green river, and Nolin on the other. For many miles to the right and left there was scarcely a foot of the ground which we had not traversed, nor a thicket in which we had not hidden; from almost every hill we had watched the enemy, and at almost every turn in the road shot at him. These are not precisely the kind of reminiscences that the poetical and romantic sigh over, but every man has a right to be sentimental after his own fashion, and Morgan's men were always mightily so about the Green river country.

CHAPTER VI

Buell had organized, during the period that the two armies lay inactive and confronting each other, fifty or sixty thousand men, and they were, at the time when General Johnson commenced his retreat, concentrated, mobilized, and ready to fall upon him. Therefore, even before it became evident that Donelson must fall, before the capture of Nashville was imminent, by an enemy moving from either flank, and before his line of retreat was endangered, but just so soon as Buell put his army in motion General Johnson evacuated Bowlinggreen. Then began the campaign, in which more than in any other of the war, was displayed the profoundest strategy, the most heroic decision, the highest order of generalship.

General Johnson had long foreseen the storm of difficulties which now assailed him. His resources were scanty and the emergency was terrible, but he did not despair of fighting through it to victory. Upon one flank of his line, he had sustained a crushing defeat, the forces protecting it had been driven off. Nashville might be taken by the victors. One of the forts protecting the great water lines which led right into the heart of his department, and away to the rear of his army, had been taken. If the other fell the fate of Nashville was sealed, but far worse, he would be inclosed at Bowlinggreen, should he remain there, between three armies each much stronger than his own. If he lingered around Nashville, he could not protect the city, but gave his enemy the opportunity of cutting him off completely from the only territory whence he could hope to obtain recruits, and of preventing his junction with the reinforcements which he had ordered to his assistance. He did not hesitate a moment.

Price and Van Dorn were ordered from Arkansas, Bragg was ordered from Pensacola, all the available troops at New Orleans, and every point in the department where troops were stationed, were called into the field, and the concentration of all at Corinth, in Northern Mississippi, was arranged. Here he would have every thing massed and in hand, and in his rear would be no danger, nor indefensible line by which danger could menace him. His adversaries on the contrary would be separated from each other; rivers and all the perils of a hostile population would be between them and safety, if they were defeated or forced to turn and retreat; energy and promptness would enable him to strike them heavy blows before they could unite; if every detail of his plan worked right, he might hope to outnumber them at every collision.

This plan would require the evacuation of Columbus, even if the occupation of New Madrid did not; but there was no longer any use of holding Columbus, after a retreat to Mississippi had been decided upon. Its garrison would help to swell the ranks of the army for the decisive battle—and if that battle were won, territory far North of Columbus would be gained. Therefore, braving censure and remonstrance more general, energetic, and daring, than was ever encountered by any Confederate officer, before or since, General Johnson turned his back upon Kentucky and commenced the retreat which culminated in the battle of Shiloh. When the dangers from which this retreat extricated him, the favorable position in which it placed him for offensive operations, the exact calculation of the proper time to turn retreat into attack, and the electric rapidity and courage with which the latter was done—when all the features are considered, is it claiming too much to say that no conception of the war was more magnificent?

The evacuation of Bowlinggreen was commenced on the 14th of February, and notwithstanding the discontent of the troops, was accomplished in perfect order. On the day after it was all over, the enemy arrived upon the opposite bank of Barren river—the bridges had all, of course, been burned—and shelled the town which he could not immediately enter.

The weather for the week following the evacuation, was intensely cold, and the troops accustomed, for the most part, to comfortable quarters during the winter, and exposed for the first time to real hardships, suffered severely. Still, after the first murmuring was over, they were kept in high spirits by the impression, assiduously cultivated by their officers, that they were marching to surprise and attack Thomas, who was supposed to have compromised himself by an imprudent pursuit of Crittenden.

The news from Donelson, where the fight was then raging, was very favorable, and the successful defense of the fort for several days encouraged even General Johnson to hope that it would be held and the assailants completely beaten off.

As the army neared Nashville, some doubts of the truth of the programme which the men had arranged in their imaginations began to intrude, and they began to believe that the retreat meant in good earnest the giving up of Kentucky—perhaps something more which they were unwilling to contemplate. While they were in this state of doubt and anxiety, like a thunder-clap came the news of the fall of Donelson—the news that seven thousand Confederate were prisoners in the hands of the enemy.

General Johnson, himself, was thoroughly surprised by the suddenness of the disaster, for, six hours before he received information of the surrender, he had been dispatched that the enemy had been signally repulsed, and were drawing off, and until the intelligence came of the fate of the garrison, he had learned of no new attack. The depression, which this information produced, was deepened by the gloom which hung over Nashville when the troops entered. It is impossible to describe the scene. Disasters were then new to us, and our people had been taught to believe them impossible. No subsequent reverse, although fraught with far more real calamity, ever created the shame, sorrow, and wild consternation which swept over the South with the news of the surrender of Donelson. And in Nashville, itself sure to fall next and speedily, an anguish and terror were felt and expressed, scarcely to be conceived by those who have not witnessed a similar scene. All the worst evils which follow in the train of war and subjugation seemed to be anticipated by the terrified people, and the feeling was quickly communicated to the troops, and grew with every hour until it assumed almost the proportions of a panic. The Tennessee troops were naturally most influenced by the considerations which affected the citizens, but all shared the feeling. Some wept at the thought of abandoning the city to a fate which they esteemed as dreadful as utter destruction, and many, infuriated, loudly advocated burning it to the ground that the enemy might have nothing of it but its ashes.

During the first night after the army reached Nashville, when the excitement and fury were at the highest pitch, and officers and privates were alike influenced by it, it seemed as if the bonds of discipline would be cast off altogether. Crowds of soldiers were mingled with the citizens who thronged the streets all night, and yells, curses, shots rang on all sides. In some houses the women were pale and sobbing, and in others there was even merriment, as if in defiance of the worst. Very soon all those who had escaped from Donelson began to arrive.

Forrest had cut his way through the beleaguering lines and brought off his entire regiment. He reached Nashville on the day after it was entered by the army. It was impossible for the infantry men who escaped to make their way from the scene of disaster, except in small detachments. They were necessarily scattered all over the country, and those who reached Nashville in time to accompany the army upon its farther march, came in as stragglers and without any organization. Neither men nor officers had an idea of how or when they were to do duty again. The arrival of these disbanded soldiers, among whom it was difficult to establish and enforce order, because no immediate disposition could be made of them, increased the confusion already prevailing. Rumors, too, of the near approach of the enemy were circulated, and were believed even by officers of high rank.

Buell's army, which was really not far south of Bowlinggreen, was reported to be within a few miles of the city, and the Federal gunboats, which had not yet reached Clarksville, were confidently declared to be within sight of Fort Zollicoffer, only seven miles below Nashville.

Upon the second day matters had arrived at such a state, and the excitement and disorder were so extreme, that it became necessary to take other precautions to repress the license that was prevailing, besides the establishment of guards and sentinels about the camps where the troops lay, and General Johnson ordered the establishment of a strong military police in Nashville. The First Missouri infantry, one of the finest and best disciplined regiments in the service, was detailed for this duty, and Morgan's squadron was sent to assist it. Our duty was to patrol the city and suburbs, and we were constantly engaged at it until the city was evacuated. General John B. Floyd, of Virginia, was appointed commandant of Nashville, and entrusted with the enforcement of discipline and with all the details of the evacuation. His task was one of no ordinary difficulty. It was hard, at such a time, to know how to begin the work. In such a chaos, with such passions ruling, it seemed folly to hope for the restoration of order. Those who remember the event, will recall the feeling of despair which had seized upon the soldiery—the entire army seemed, for the time, hopeless of any retrieval of our fortunes, and every man was thoroughly reckless. Few excesses were committed; but, with such a temper prevailing, the worst consequences were to be apprehended, if the influence of the officers should be entirely lost and the minds of the men should be directed to mischief. General Floyd would have found the demoralization and license which had grown apace among the troops, and the terrors of the citizens, serious impediments to his efforts to remove the valuable stores which had been collected in Nashville, even if he had possessed abundant facilities for their removal. But of such facilities he was almost entirely destitute. The trains with the army were needed for transportation of supplies for immediate use. The scanty wheel transportation which belonged to captured and disorganized commands, and had been brought to the city, could scarcely be made available. When it could be discovered and laid hold of, the wagons and teams were usually found to be unserviceable. General Floyd's first care (after satisfying himself by active scouting, that there was no truth in the reports of the proximity of the enemy, and burning the bridge at Edgefield junction), was to make arrangements for saving as many of the stores as was possible, giving the preference to ordnance stores. For this purpose he ordered an impressment of transportation in Nashville and the vicinity, making a clean sweep of every thing that ran on wheels. In this manner some eighty or ninety vehicles were gotten together, with teams, and as many loads of ordnance stores were saved for the army. He issued orders that the citizens should be permitted to help themselves to the remaining stores, and a promiscuous scramble for clothing, blankets, meat, meal, and all sorts of quartermaster and commissary stores, commenced and lasted three days. Occasionally, a half-drunken, straggling soldier, would walk into the midst of the snatchers, with gun on shoulder and pistol at his belt, and the citizens would stand back, jackall like, until he had helped himself. Crowds would stand upon the pavements underneath the tall buildings, upon the Court House Square, while out of their fourth and fifth-story windows large bales of goods were pitched, which would have crushed any one upon whom they had fallen. Yet numbers would rush and fasten upon them, while other bales were already in the air descending. Excitement and avarice seemed to stimulate the people to preternatural strength. I saw an old woman, whose appearance indicated the extremest decrepitude, staggering under a load of meat which I would have hardly thought a quartermaster's mule could carry. Twice during the first day of these scenes, orders were received by a portion of Forrest's regiment, drawn up on the Square, to stop the appropriation of stores by the citizens, and they accordingly charged the crowd (deaf to any less forcible reason) with drawn sabers; several men were wounded and trampled upon, but fortunately none were killed. Nothing could have been more admirable than the fortitude, patience and good sense which General Floyd displayed in his arduous and unenviable task. He had, already, for ten days, endured great and uninterrupted excitement and fatigue; without respite or rest, he was called to this responsibility and duty. Those who have never witnessed nor been placed in such situations, can not understand how they harass the mind and try the temper.

General Floyd soon found that he could (with no exertion) maintain perfect order, or rescue more than a fragment from the wreck, and he bent all his energies to the task of repressing serious disorders, preventing the worst outrages, and preserving all that was most absolutely required for the use of the army, and that it was practical to remove.

It was easy for officers who respectively saw and considered but one matter, to advise attention to that in particular, and to censure if their advice was not taken. But the very multiplicity of such counsellors, embarrassed rather than assisted, and showed the utter impossibility, in the brief time allowed, of attending to every thing. I saw a great deal of General Floyd, while he was commanding in Nashville, and I was remarkably impressed by him. I was required to report to him almost every hour in the twenty-four, and he was always surrounded by a crowd of applicants for all sorts of favors, and couriers bringing all sorts of news. It was impossible in the state of confusion which prevailed to prohibit or regulate this pressing and noisy attendance, or to judge, without examination, of what was important to be considered. Many matters which ordinarily a general officer would not permit himself to be troubled with, might need attention and action from him at such a time. Irascible and impetuous as General Floyd seemed to be by nature—his nerves unstrung, too, by the fatigues of so many busy days and sleepless nights—and galled as he must have been by the constant annoyances, he yet showed no sign of impatience. I saw him give way but once to anger, which was, then, provoked by the most stupid and insolent pertinacity. It was interesting to watch the struggle which would sometimes occur between his naturally violent temper and the restraint he imposed upon it. His eye would glow, his face and his lips turn pale, and his frame shake with passion; he would be silent for minutes, as if not daring to trust himself to speak, looking all the while upon the ground, and he would then address the man, whose brusqueness or obstinacy had provoked him, in the mildest tone and manner. He was evidently endowed with no common nerve, will, and judgment.

At last the evacuation was completed, the army was gotten clear of Nashville, the last straggler driven out, all the stores which could not be carried off, nor distributed to the citizens, burned, and the capitol of Tennessee (although we did not know it then) was abandoned finally to the enemy. Morgan's squadron was the last to leave, as it was required to remain in the extreme rear of the army and pick up all the stragglers that evaded the rear guards of the infantry. Our scouts left behind, when we, in our turn, departed, witnessed the arrival of the Federals and their occupation of the city.

The army was halted at Murfreesboro', thirty miles from Nashville, where it remained for nearly a week. Here it was joined by the remnant of Crittenden's forces. After a few days given to repose, reorganization and the re-establishment of discipline, General Johnson resumed his retreat. He concluded it with a battle in which he himself was the assailant, and which, but for his death, would have advanced our banners to the Ohio. It was fruitless of apparent and immediate results, but it checked for more than a year the career of Federal conquest, infused fresh courage into the Southern people, and gave them breathing time to rally for farther contest. His death upon the field prevented vast and triumphant results from following it then—the incompetency of his successors squandered glorious chances (months afterward) which this battle directly gave to the Confederacy. When the line of march was taken up, and the heads of the columns were still turned southward, the dissatisfaction of the troops broke out into fresh and frequent murmurs. Discipline, somewhat restored at Murfreesboro', had been too much relaxed by the scenes witnessed at Nashville, to impose much restraint upon them. Unjust as it was, officers and men concurred in laying the whole burden of blame upon General Johnson. Many a voice was then raised to denounce him, which has since been enthusiastic in his praise, and many joined in the clamor, then almost universal against him, who, a few weeks later, when he lay dead upon the field he had so gallantly fought, would have given their own lives to recall him.

Crossing the Tennessee river at Decatur, Alabama, and destroying the immense railroad bridge at that point, General Johnson pressed on down through the valley, through Courtland, Tuscumbia, and Iuca, to Corinth. This was for a short time, until he could concentrate for battle, the goal of his march. Here all the reinforcements at his command could reach him, coming from every direction. He only awaited their arrival to attack the enemy, which, flushed with the successes at Henry and Donelson, lay exposed to his blows, ignorant of his vicinity.

The force with which he crossed the Tennessee river was a little over twenty thousand men. It was composed of the troops which had held the lines in Kentucky—those which had been stationed at Bowlinggreen, all that was left of Crittenden's command, all that were left of the garrisons of Donelson and Henry. The garrisons of minor importance in Tennessee contributed, as the State was evacuated, to strengthen the army. He was very soon joined by the forces from Pensacola, about ten thousand strong, and a splendid body of men. They were superior in arms, equipment, instruction and dress, to all of the Western troops, and presented an imposing appearance and striking contrast to their weather-stained, dusty and travel-worn comrades. Nothing had ever occurred to them to impair their morale; they seemed animated by the stern spirit and discipline which characterized their commander, and a fit reserve with which to turn the tide of fortune. Beauregard brought with him some troops from New Orleans and other parts of Louisiana. General Polk came with the troops which had held Columbus. Several hurriedly raised and organized regiments came from the various States of the department. Price and Van Dorn, having between them fifteen thousand veterans, did not arrive in season to participate in the immediate movements which General Johnson had determined upon. A knowledge that the retreat had been brought to a close and that a battle was about to be fought in which we would attack, did more to inspirit the troops and restore to them soldierly feeling and bearing, than any efforts in behalf of discipline. The spirit of the men who had come from Florida and other points not surrendered to the enemy had a favorable influence upon the remainder, whose pride was aroused by the comparison and example. The sudden and seemingly magical change from despondency to highest hope, from a sullen indifference to duty to the most cheerful alacrity and perfect subordination, showed how wonderfully susceptible was the material which composed our army to the hopes inspired by a daring policy. The same men who had dragged themselves reluctantly along, as if careless of reputation and forgetful of the cause they had to fight for, were now full of zeal, energy and confidence. Those who had almost broken out into open mutiny, now rendered the promptest obedience to every order. The denunciations they had uttered against General Johnson, were silenced just so soon as they learned that he was about to lead them to instant battle, and his name was never mentioned except with becoming respect, and often with praise. In short, every trace of demoralization disappeared—courage, pride and efficiency, returned; and, from a condition not much better than that of an armed mob, the army became again disciplined, valiant and reliable. While the masterly ability and soldierly vigor and decision of General Johnson must excite the profoundest admiration, those who remember him may be pardoned for dwelling quite as much upon the grandeur, the loftiness, the heroism of his character. In this we may look in vain for his peer, except to the great Virginian, his immortal comrade, the man whom every former Southern soldier must feel it is his religious duty to venerate. Through all that period of sickening doubt, amidst all the reverses, in the wide spread demoralization which attacked all ranks, General Johnson towered like a being superior to the fears and fate of other men. The bitter censure which was cast at him from all sides, could move him to nothing weak or unworthy of his high nature. He gave way to no anger or scorn—he deigned no argument or apology. When the President, his devoted friend and warm admirer, urged him to supersede the officers who had suffered defeat, he answered that they were brave, although inexperienced men, and that he preferred to trust them until he could find better.

He defended unsuccessful generals with his generous warmth, and reposed in them a confidence, which saved them, but directed all the clamor against himself. He entertained with courtesy and listened with patience, to importunate, censorious civilians, while he had in his pocket copies of dispatches which they had sent to Richmond furiously denouncing him. Not one word was he ever heard to say in comment or rebuke, while censure and detraction were most frequent against him, and his zealous, paternal care for his army was never relaxed. His majestic presence, calm and noble face and superb dignity, might themselves—it would seem—have overawed and hushed the cavilers. Surely, there never suffered a nobler, purer, braver martyr to senseless prejudice and unjust, inconsiderate reproach.

While the enemy was retreating through Tennessee, Morgan's squadron remained in the neighborhood of Nashville until all the detachments which had been left in the rear to protect and ship off by rail the stores and supplies (which could be hastily collected) at Murfreesboro', Shelbyville, and other points, had gotten through with their work and departed after the army. Morgan encamped his command at La Vergne, a station upon the railroad, about half way between Nashville and Murfreesboro'. This little place became quite famous in the subsequent annals of the war. Morgan first brought its name into men's mouths, Forrest and Wheeler kept it notorious.

Here, for the first time, we met the Fourth Ohio Cavalry—our acquaintance afterward became more intimate, and lasted as long as that gallant regiment was in the field. The Fourth was encamped at the "Lunatic Asylum"—I asked one of the officers of the regiment (subsequently) why they were sent there, but he did not seem to know—eight miles from Nashville, on the Murfreesboro' pike, and seven miles from La Vergne. Our respective "bases" were consequently pretty close to each other. Our pickets used to stand in sight of theirs during the day, and in hearing distance at night. The videttes treated each other with respect and consideration, but the scouts were continually slipping around through the woods and shooting some one. On one occasion an officer of the Fourth placed some men in ambush in a thicket upon the side of the road, and then with a small party rode down near to our pickets, fired, turned and galloped away again, hoping that some of us would be induced to follow and receive the fire of his ambuscade. The night was dark, and by an unaccountable mistake the men in ambush fired into their own friends as they passed—no damage was done, I believe, except to horses.

One morning our pickets came rushing in with a party of the enemy in pursuit (no unusual occurrence), and as we stood to arms, we noticed—they were three or four hundred yards off—one of the pickets some distance in the rear of the others, and almost in the clutches of the enemy, who were peppering away at him. It was private Sam Murrill, of Co. C., (afterward chief of my couriers, and a first rate soldier to the end of the war), his horse was slow and blown, and the foremost pursuer had gotten along side of him and presented his pistol at his head. Murrill, too quick for him, fired first, and as his enemy dropped dead from the saddle, seized pistol and horse, and, although closely pushed, until the guns of his comrades drove back his daring pursuers, brought both in triumph into camp. These small affairs were of daily occurrence, but at last our opponents became more wary and circumspect, and to obtain decided advantages, we had to go far into their lines. We noticed finally that they adopted a practice of withdrawing their pickets at night, from the points where they stood during the day, some miles to the rear. Captain Morgan after making this discovery, resolved to anticipate them at the place where they made their picket base at night. He remained with a few men demonstrating all day in sight of the outpost pickets, and just before nightfall made a circuit which carried him far to their rear, previously to their withdrawal. He reached the place (where he learned that a party of twenty-five or thirty stood nightly), about the time that it was fairly dark.

It was a small house, in a yard some eighty or ninety feet square, surrounded by a picket fence of cedar. He had with him nine men, of these he detailed five to hold horses, and with the other four; all armed with shot guns loaded with buck-shot, he lay down behind the low fence. The horses were sent back some distance into the bushes. Captain Morgan instructed his party to hold their fire until he gave the signal. It was his intention to permit the party, which was expected, to pass and then fire upon the rear—hoping thus to drive it down the road toward his own camp and, following rapidly, capture it. When it arrived, however, about twenty-five strong, the officer in command halted it before it reached the point where we lay, but at a distance of not more than thirty feet from us, so that we could distinctly hear every word which was uttered. The officer in command talked with his guide for some minutes, sending men to reconnoiter upon each side of the road in the meantime. At length the officer ordered his men to enter the little yard, and they came right up to the fence, and just upon the opposite side from our position. Captain Morgan shouted the word "Now," and each man arose and fired one barrel of his gun. The roar and the flash so near, must have been terrible to men taken completely by surprise. The officer fell immediately, and his party, panic stricken, filed toward their camp. Another volley was delivered upon them as they ran. A chain picket was established between the point where this happened and the camp at the asylum; and we could hear shots fired at rapid intervals, for minutes, as the fleeing party passed the men on post. Several wounded men fell in the road, after they had fled a short distance.