A short time before he left La Vergne, Captain Morgan selected fifteen men for an expedition to Nashville. Avoiding the high roads, he made his way through the woods to the Lebanon pike, which he struck only a mile from the city.

The vicinity of the city favored rather than endangered him, and he rode down into the streets without attracting hostile observation. A patrol of twenty or thirty cavalry, were making the round of the streets, and he rode in the rear of this party. After reconnoitering for a short time, he determined on his plan of operations. He sent all but five or six of his men out into the thickets, a short distance from the city, and, with those whom he kept, he made his way, dismounted and leading the horses along the river bank, until he came near the reservoir, about opposite to which, and a little out in the river, a steamboat was anchored. This boat was one which was in the employ of the Federal Government. It was Captain Morgan's desire to set her on fire, and let her drift down into the midst of a number of other transports, which lay a few hundred yards below, and were crowded with troops, hoping she might fire them also. Three gallant young fellows volunteered to do the work, and boarded the boat in an old canoe, which was found, bottom upward, on the shore. They fired her, but could not cut her adrift, as she was made fast at stem and stern, with chain cables, and thus the best part of the plan was frustrated. The work was done in full view and notice of the troops on the other transports, and the engineer and workmen, on board of the boat, were brought to the shore. The names of the young men, or rather boys, who did this, were Warfield, Garrett and Buckner—the latter was soon afterward killed at Shiloh. The canoe was so unmanageable that its crew came near falling into the hands of the enemy—but accident favored them at the most perilous moment. A long line of panel fence had drifted out into the river, one end still being attached to the bank. When their paddles failed them in the swift current, they fortunately came in reach of this, and they were enabled to pull in by it to the shore. As soon as the land was gained, all remounted their horses, watched for a while the rising flames and the consternation of the fleet, and then, with three cheers for Morgan, rode rapidly to rejoin their comrades.

Cavalry was sent in pursuit, but was left far behind. Captain Morgan went straight across the country to the Murfreesboro' pike. As he gained it he encountered a small body of Federal cavalry, attacked and drove it into town. He lost only one man, but he was a capital soldier, Peter Atherton by name.

He got back to La Vergne about twelve at night. After the thorough and final evacuation of Murfreesboro', Captain Morgan withdrew to that place with his command. He almost directly afterward sent the bulk of it to the Shelbyville and Nashville road, with instructions to encamp about twenty miles from Nashville, and picket and scout the adjacent country, and all the neighboring roads. He retained with him at Murfreesboro', about forty of his own men, and some fifty of Colonel Wirt Adams' regiment of cavalry, under command of Lieutenant Colonel Wood, of that regiment. This officer was exceedingly fond of the sort of service which Morgan was performing, and had been with him constantly for ten or twelve days. He preferred to remain with and report to him, although his superior in rank, rather than accompany his own regiment on the retreat of the army, and see no active work.

A day or two after he had made this disposition of this command, Captain Morgan taking with him thirty-two of the men he had kept at Murfreesboro', penetrated by bridle paths and traces through the woods, to the immediate vicinity of the enemy's encampments at the Lunatic Asylum.

At this time, Mitchell's entire brigade was encamped there. Stationing his men in the thickets along the road, at various points, Captain Morgan went systematically to work to catch every thing that should come into sight. There was, of course, a great deal of passing to and from the headquarters of the commanding officers and between the various camps. No one anticipated danger there, and stragglers, couriers, escorts, and guards, went carelessly and unsuspectingly along, into the same bag. In the course of an hour or two eighty odd prisoners were taken. Colonel Wood went off with twenty-eight of them, and, by some oversight, sixty were started to Murfreesboro', later, guarded by only ten men. A number of wagons had been also captured and burned. The teams were used to mount the prisoners. One staff officer was captured and sent off with the large hatch of prisoners. Captain Morgan remained behind with one man, after he had sent off all the others. This sort of service always gave him great pleasure, and he was loth to give it up. As the number of passengers fell off, he rode down the road with his companion, dressed like himself in a blue overcoat, to a point where a guard of ten men were stationed under a Sergeant for some purpose. He placed himself between them and their guns, made his follower put his pistol to the head of the Sergeant and began to rate them for neglect of duty. He represented himself as a Federal officer of high rank and reminded them sternly and reproachfully that such careless guard as they were then keeping had enabled Morgan to play all of his tricks. They had been careless and were overwhelmed with just shame and mortification at his rebuke. He at length ordered them all under arrest, and taking the Sergeant's weapons from him and leaving the guns stacked—he could not have carried them off without entrusting them to the prisoners—he marched the whole party away. They were under the impression that they were going to Mitchell's headquarters, but he got them mounted and carried them to Murfreesboro'. In the meantime the smoke from the wagons which were burned within half a mile of Mitchell's headquarters, attracted attention and led to inquiry, and it was not long before what was going on was discovered. Troops were at once dispatched to put a stop to the mischief and beat off or follow the perpetrators. The Fourth Ohio got on the track of the party guarding the sixty prisoners, and, as its progress was necessarily slow, it was soon overtaken. Nothing could be done but release the prisoners and run for it, and the whole escort went off in rapid flight. One prisoner had, by a strange mistake, been allowed to retain a loaded gun. As one of the guard who had been in the extreme rear of the column dashed past this man, the latter fired and grazed his face. The other turned in his saddle, fired and shot his unexpected assailant dead. The pursuers had gotten close before they had been perceived, and they pressed the chase vigorously. Over fences and gulches, through fields and thickets, as hard as their horses could go, fled the one party and followed the other for ten miles. One of our men was killed, two or three wounded, and as many captured. Thirty-eight prisoners were secured by Morgan—twenty-eight brought off by Wood, and ten captured and escorted by himself. On the evening of the same day a party of eighteen men were dispatched from the camp on the Shelbyville road to push as close to Nashville as possible, and learn the position of the Federal troops in that quarter. I was myself in command of the party, and had an accurate knowledge of the points at which guards and pickets had been previously stationed. On arriving in the vicinity of these points—around which, without creating an alarm, it was desirable to pass, in order to get near to the encampments and observe them closely—they were found unoccupied. The party moved some three miles further down the road without coming upon an enemy, although a day or two before the picket posts had been thick in this quarter.

It was apparent that some plan for our benefit had caused this change, and unusual caution became necessary. I had hoped to find some officers quartered at the houses well in the rear of the reserve pickets, where they would believe themselves secure, and to capture them, but I now approached the houses, not with the expectation of making prisoners, but of getting information. None of the citizens in that neighborhood had ever seen any man in my party, and they would tell nothing, but their alarm at seeing us, and evident anxiety to get rid of us, showed plainly that they knew of the proximity of danger. At length, when in about six hundred yards of the Cross-roads near "Flat Rock," I think it is called, four miles from Nashville, and where it was confidently reported by our informants that McCook's division was encamped, I halted and secreted men and horses in the thick brush on the right hand side of the road, and, with the guide, went forward on foot about a quarter of a mile, until I suddenly heard the challenge of a picket. I judged from the words I caught that it was the officer of the day making his rounds. Soon a negro came down the road toward us, whom we caught and questioned. He answered very glibly, and evinced too little fear, not to excite suspicion that he came out to be captured with a made-up tale. He said that there were ten men on picket at the Cross-roads. As a large encampment was only a few hundred yards on the other side of this point, his story did not seem credible. However, we had at last found an enemy.

Leaving five men to take care of the horses, in the thicket where they were already concealed I carried the others through a wide meadow on the right of the road which we had traveled (the Shelbyville and Nashville pike) to the road which crossed it at "Flat Rock," striking the latter about two hundred yards from the point of intersection. I was convinced that the withdrawal of the pickets was part of a plan to entrap just such scouting parties as ours, and that a strong force was in ambush at the Cross-roads. There was little hope of accomplishing the objects of the expedition, but the trap could, at least, be sprung, and there was a chance of surprising the ambuscade. My men were armed with shot-guns and pistols, the proper weapons for such an affair. I ordered them to follow me in single-file in the direction of the enemy, instructing them to hold their fire until we were challenged, and to then discharge their weapons, and, without stopping to reload, make their way back to the horses. The moon had just gone down as we began to move slowly down the road. We made little noise, and were soon convinced by a chorus of coughing, which broke on our ears as we neared them, that a pretty good crowd was before us. When we had almost reached the point where the roads cross, a Sergeant, with five or six men at his back, sprang up, so near to us that I could have touched him by making another step, and ordered "halt," in a low voice, evidently taking us for friends. Our answer was a shot, and he fell dead. His comrades returned our fire, and at once a line of men rose from the fence corners on the opposite side of the road which we had just descended—we had passed them unseen in the darkness. Many of them must have been asleep until alarmed by the firing. The bulk of the force, however, was stationed upon the other road, and, as they sprang up at the sudden uproar, and aimed at the blaze of the guns, they endangered their own friends more than us. My men sank at once upon their knees, and the enemy firing wildly and high, did not touch one of them. They pointed their shot-guns low, and every flash was followed by a groan, and, by the quick vivid light, we could see the men we hit writhing on the ground. The curses and commands of the officers, shouts of the combatants, and yells of the wounded were mingled together. The breadth of the road, only, separated us, and the blaze from the guns met. When our weapons were emptied, we sprang over the fence and ran at top speed for our horses. A chain picket which had been posted on the left of the Shelbyville road, a short distance from it, rushed forward and opened upon us, and the enemy we had just bidden farewell redoubled his fire. When we regained the horses, we were nearly surrounded. Parties had come out from the woods behind us, as we passed down the road, and our retreat by the way we had come was blocked. Our signals to call in the laggards, as we prepared to leave, were answered from every direction by the enemy. But the woods befriended us, as they had often done before, and we escaped under its shelter. On that same night a similar adventure befell some Confederates (I think of Starne's command) on the Franklin pike, and some pickets were killed on the side of Nashville entirely opposite to that into which all of these roads (which have been mentioned) run. Of course every thing was attributed to Morgan, and the Federals were puzzled and uncertain, whether to believe him really ubiquitous, or the commander of two or three thousand men.

A day or two after these occurrences, Morgan went with a flag of truce to Mitchell's encampment to endeavor to exchange some of his prisoners for his own men who had been captured. Colonel Wood, who was with him, was asked confidentially how many men Morgan had, and was told that the mischief he was doing could only be accounted for upon the supposition that he had control of a large force. Wood answered, also in confidence, that although he had co-operated with Morgan for two or three weeks, he was entirely ignorant of the strength of his command. That he knew, only, that Morgan was controlling the motions of men whom he (Morgan) rarely saw; and that, although he himself was intimately cognizant of all that occurred under Morgan's immediate supervision, he was frequently astonished by hearing from the latter, accounts of enterprises which had been accomplished by his orders in quarters very remote from where he was in person operating. Wood saw the impression which prevailed, and shaped his answers to confirm it. In reality, there were not in the vicinity of Nashville, at that time, on all sides, more than three hundred Confederate soldiers. Of this number, Morgan could control only his own three companies and the fifty men with Wood, although the others, who were stragglers, and furloughed men from the Texas Rangers, Starne's, McNairy's and other cavalry regiments, often joined him upon his expeditions.

Many of the Federal soldiers killed around Nashville, and whose deaths were, charged to Morgan's men, were killed by the independent partisans, most of them men who lived in the neighboring country, and had obtained leave to linger, for a while, about their homes. Great zeal and activity, however, was displayed by all parties.

When the flag of truce party mentioned above got to the picket line, it was met by an expedition consisting of cavalry, artillery and infantry, riding in wagons, en route for Murfreesboro', with the expectation of capturing Morgan's entire band. General Mitchell was very angry when the arrival of the flag was announced, and complained that Morgan had taken that method of defeating his plans, that otherwise would have been assuredly successful. This charge created a good deal of amusement, when Morgan told the story later to his brother officers of Johnson's array. Even if Morgan (as Mitchell thought), had known that an expedition was on foot for his capture, he still would have had a perfect right to transact at that time—if listened to—any matter of business which required to be done under flag of truce. It is legitimate to send them even while battles are going on.

During the entire war, both sides used to send flags of truce for quite other purposes than the ostensible ones. Morgan was the commanding Confederate officer in all that region, and had a right to send flags of truce for any purpose whatever, so long as he observed the usages which govern them. The flag of truce need not have stopped the expedition.

It was Mitchell's own fault if it was allowed to go far enough to see what he wished to conceal. It is the right and positive duty of an officer in charge of a flag, to go as far as he is permitted. General Mitchell could have refused to receive it, and have ordered it back. Morgan's friends somewhat doubted whether this expedition (even if it had not been met and checked by the flag of truce), would have resulted in Morgan's capture. General Mitchell was a profound strategist, but he was going to travel by daylight through a country full of Morgan's friends, and upon a road constantly watched by his scouts, to surprise Morgan. At any rate, it may be safely asserted that the fond hope which General Mitchell cherished, could never have been realized, after Morgan had gotten such timely information of an expedition intended for his capture, that he was able to meet it with a flag of truce as it was just setting out.

The country around Nashville, in which Morgan did the service, which I have attempted to describe, is one admirably adapted to it. It is one of the most fertile and wealthy portions of Middle Tennessee, a region unsurpassed in productiveness. Yet teeming as it is with every crop which the farmer wishes, one would think, in riding along the fine turnpikes which enter Nashville upon all sides, that a comparatively small proportion of the land is cultivated. A dense growth of timber, principally cedar, stretches, sometimes for miles, along the roads, and runs back from them, occasionally, to considerable distances. The cedar glades, are, some of them, of great extent, and are penetrated in all directions by roads. Springs, and small watercourses, are frequent. It is indeed a beautiful country, and the paradise of partisan cavalry, who can find in it, every where, supplies for men and horses, shelter to hide them, going against and escaping from an enemy, and, stop where they will, all that makes a camp happy.

The people who live in this country are worthy to possess it. They are brave, frank, generous and hospitable—true to their friends, kind to the distressed. They are just and honorable, and uphold through all trials and evils, the right, as they understand it, and their plighted word. Come what will upon this country, may God bless the people of Middle Tennessee.

Two or three days after the flag of truce affair, Morgan determined upon an expedition to a different quarter from that in which he had been hitherto employed. It was high time that, in accordance with the instructions he had received, he followed and rejoined the army, and he desired to leave an impression upon the enemy of his "ubiquity," which would be useful, after he himself was gone.

Upon the north side of the Cumberland, and about eight miles from it in a direct line, is the little town of Gallatin, in Sumner County, Tennessee. It is situated on the Louisville and Nashville road, about thirty miles from Nashville. This place was one of no military importance at that time, but it was right upon the line of communication between Louisville and Nashville—the roads running from Kentucky, as well as the railroad, all passing through it—and the line of telegraph. This place is about fifty miles from Murfreesboro', by the most direct route. Morgan resolved to hold this place for a day or two, and get the benefit of the "communication" himself. He left Murfreesboro' about midday, passed through Lebanon that evening, and encamped for the night near that place. Crossing the Cumberland next morning at Canoe-branch ferry, he reached Gallatin about ten o'clock. He found the town ungarrisoned, two or three clerks to take care of unimportant stores, and a telegraph operator, constituting all the force there was to oppose him. The citizens of this place were always strongly attached to the Confederate cause, and devoted friends of Morgan and his command—for which they subsequently suffered no little—and they received him enthusiastically. This neighborhood was always noted for good cheer, and, on this occasion, dainties of all kinds appeared as if by magic, and bouquets were showered by the score. Desiring the latest information from Nashville, Morgan, accompanied by Colonel Wood, went straight to the telegraph office, where they were kindly received by the operator, to whom they introduced themselves as Federal officers just from the interior of Kentucky. The operator immediately placed himself in communication with Nashville and got the last news for their benefit. The conversation then turned on Morgan. "The clerk of the lightning" said that he had not yet disturbed them at Gallatin, but that he might be expected any day: "However," he continued, "let him come, I, for one, am ready for him." He told the story of Morgan's coming to Mitchell's lines with the flag of truce (which, it seems, had raised great excitement), and declared that he ought to have been shot then and there. "Had I been there," said he, fiercely, and brandishing his revolver, "the scoundrel would have never left alive."

"Give me that pistol," Morgan said quietly; and, taking it, much to the fellow's surprise, "I am Morgan."

The consternation of the operator was extreme, and his apology, when he found his tongue, polite. It was accepted, and so was he and placed under guard. He was badly scared, at first, but he was treated kindly, and in a few days became domesticated and even playful. An engine and a few cars, found standing at the depot, were taken possession of—the cars were immediately burned. Morgan got on the engine with two or three companions, and run some miles up the railroad to visit two or three points of interest. He desired especially to ascertain if the tunnel could readily be destroyed, but found that it would be a work of more time than he had to spare. While he was absent, several Federal officers and soldiers came into the town and were made prisoners. When he returned, the engine was run off the track, over a steep bank, and destroyed. On the next morning he sent the bulk of his command across the river again, with instructions to remain near and guard the ferry. He, himself, with ten or fifteen men, remained at Gallatin two days longer with the hope of catching some of the trains. He was disappointed, the news got around and none came. Twenty or thirty wagons which were coming from Scottsville, under a small guard, were also turned back—the escort getting the alarm after he had made all his preparations to capture them—so that his expedition was more barren of the spoils of war than he had hoped. But his main object—to persuade the enemy that they could never safely count upon his being "gone"—was perfectly accomplished. While his men on the south side of the river were waiting for him, six transports, loaded with troops from Monticello, passed down toward Nashville. The men on the boats did not know who the cavalry were, and our men were afraid to fire upon them, lest they might endanger Captain Morgan and their comrades with him, on the other side. Immediately after his return to Murfreesboro', he set out to rejoin the army, and met at Shelbyville that portion of his command which had been encamped on the Shelbyville and Nashville road, and which, in obedience to his orders, had also repaired to the former place.

Here we remained for two or three days and then marched on in the track of the army. While at Shelbyville, the first and only causeless stampede of our pickets and false alarm to the camps which occurred during our squadron organization, took place. Ten or fifteen men were posted on picket some eight miles from the town toward Nashville, near a small bridge, at the southern end of which the extreme outpost vidette stood. From tales told by the citizens, these pickets had conceived the idea that the enemy contemplated an attack to surprise and capture them, and (perhaps for the very reason that they had so often played the same game themselves) they became very nervous about it. Late in the night, two men came down the road from toward Nashville in a buggy, and drove rapidly upon the bridge without heeding the vidette's challenge—he, taking them to be the enemy, shot both barrels of his gun at them and fled to alarm the other videttes and his comrades at the base. The whole party became so alarmed by his representation of the immense number and headlong advance of the enemy, that, without stopping to fight or reconnoiter, they all came in a hand-gallop to camp. The officer in charge sent the vidette who had given the alarm, in advance, to report to me. I immediately got the command under arms and then questioned him. He stated that the enemy's cavalry came on, at the charge, in column of fours, that they paid no attention to his challenge, and that when he fired, they dashed at him, making the air ring with their yells and curses. He said that "the road seemed perfectly blue for more than half a mile," so great was their number.

It was a moonless night, and a slight rain was falling, making the darkness intense. I asked him if he might not have been deceived and if he was not scared. "No, sir," said he, "not a bit, but I was somewhat arrytated."

Leaving Shelbyville, we marched through Fayetteville to Huntsville; every where along the route the people flocked to see Morgan, and his progress was one continual ovation. When we reached Huntsville, the most beautiful town in Alabama (and now that Columbia is in ashes) perhaps in the entire South, we were received with the kindness and hospitality which characterize that generous, warm-hearted population. Huntsville, the birth-place of Morgan, greeted him like a mother indeed. For ten days we remained there; every man in the command the recipient of unwearying attention. It was very injurious to good soldierly habits, but served, as many other such instances did, to show the men that they were fighting for a people who loved to be grateful, and to prove it—and unavailing as the struggle was, it is still a thought of pride and satisfaction, that the labors and sacrifices were made for a people worthy of them all.

Crossing the Tennessee river at Decatur and marching just in the track of the army, we reached Byrnesville, a few miles from Corinth, on the third of April, and found there the division of General Breckinridge, to which we were attached. The whole army was then astir, and forming to march to attack the enemy who lay at Pittsburg Landing on the southern bank of the Tennessee some twenty miles from Corinth.

Morgan's services were much talked of, and he was complimented by General Johnson in terms that were very grateful to him. He was given the commission of Colonel, to take effect from the fourth of April, and he received (what he valued much more highly) an assurance, or what he construed to be such, that he would be permitted to act independently again, and follow his favorite service with a stronger force and upon a larger scale.

None among the many ardent and high-strung men who went with so much zeal into that fight, felt more hope and enthusiasm than Morgan, for he saw beyond it, a career of excitement, success, and glory, that might satisfy the most energetic and most daring nature.

CHAPTER VII

Breckinridge's division, to which Morgan's squadron was now attached, moved from Byrnesville. The roads were narrow and miry, and were not improved by a heavy rain which fell during the march, and by the passage of successive trains of wagons and batteries of artillery. The march was slow and toilsome. The infantry labored along with mud-clogged feet, casting sour looks and candid curses at the cavalry and couriers, who bespattered them. The artillery often stuck fast, and the struggling horses failed to move the pieces, until the cannoneers applied themselves and pushed and strained at the heavy wheels.

On the 5th, about three or four in the afternoon, every thing was concentrated upon the ground, where General Johnson proposed to establish his line, and the disposition of the forces, in accordance with the plan of battle, was at once commenced. On account of some accident, or mistake, this concentration was effected one day later than had been contemplated, causing a corresponding delay in the attack. It has frequently been asserted that this was occasioned by the failure of General Polk's corps to arrive at the appointed time.

General Polk's report demonstrates the injustice of this statement, and it is probable that the condition of the roads was the sole cause of the delay.

A want of promptness upon the part of General Polk, no doubt would have produced a suspension of the attack. A corps so strong and efficient, could have been ill-spared from an army, already inferior in numbers to the antagonist it was about to assail, and the absence of the brave old Bishop from the field, would have been, of itself, a serious loss. This delay was the cause of grave apprehensions to many of the Confederate Generals, and, as matters were managed, was really unfortunate.

It was known that Buell was marching rapidly to the support of Grant, and General Johnson wished to crush the latter before their junction was effected.

General Beauregard was of opinion that the attack, having been so long delayed, ought to be abandoned altogether; that it would now be extremely hazardous, and that the safety of the army would be compromised if it did not retire promptly to Corinth.

General Johnson listened courteously to every argument, but was moved by none to relinquish his plan. His resolution to fight, after placing his army in front of the enemy, was fixed. He believed, "the offensive once assumed, ought to be maintained at all hazards." He trusted that vigor and audacity would enable him to accomplish victory on the first day, before the fresh troops came, and his designs were too profoundly considered, his gallant faith in his soldiers, too earnest, for his purpose to be shaken. In answer to an anxious inquiry from his aide, Colonel William Preston, he said, quietly, "I would fight them were they a million."

The ground selected for battle was that inclosed between Owl and Lick creeks, which run nearly parallel with each other, and empty into the Tennessee river. The flanks of the two armies rested upon these little streams, and the front of each was just the distances, at their respective positions, between the two creeks. The Confederate front was, consequently, a little more than three miles long. The distance between the creeks widens somewhat, as they approach the river, and the Federal army had more ground upon which to deploy. The position which the enemy occupied next morning, is five or six miles from the river, and his advance camp was perhaps a mile southward of Shiloh Church. He had, as yet, established no line; the attack next morning took him completely by surprise, and he formed after the fight had commenced.

General Johnson's effective strength, including all the forces available for that battle, was about thirty-five thousand men. That of the enemy was, perhaps, forty-five thousand men. The advantages of attack and surprise would, General Johnson thought, more than counterbalance his numerical inferiority. If Buell brought reinforcements to his opponents, by forced marches, in advance of his army, he would feel their effect only in a stronger line, and more stubborn resistance upon the front—his flanks would be safe in any event. The array of his forces evinced a resolution to break through and crush, at any cost, whatever should confront him in the narrow space where the whole conflict would be crowded.

The troops were bivouacked that night upon the ground which it was intended that they should occupy in line of battle. No disposition which could be made that evening was delayed; every precaution was taken to guard against a further procrastination of the attack. The men laid down to sleep in the order in which they were to rush upon the enemy.

General Hardee had command of the first line, General Bragg of the second, and General Polk of the third. General Hardee's line extended from the one creek to the other, and as his corps (fully deployed) could not properly occupy the entire distance, he was reinforced by a fine brigade under Brigadier General Gladden. To Hardee was given the honor of commencing the battle, and he was ordered to push his whole line rapidly forward, at early dawn. General Bragg's line was formed similarly to General Hardee's, and about a quarter of a mile in its rear. Bragg was ordered to advance simultaneously with Hardee, and to support him when he needed assistance. Then, at the distance of eight hundred yards, came General Polk's corps, not deployed, but formed in column of brigades. General Breckinridge's division (over six thousand strong) constituted the reserve, and was close in the rear of Polk's corps. The cavalry was promiscuously disposed—indeed, no one in authority seemed to think it could win the battle. Morgan's squadron was formed with the Kentucky troops, and occupied the extreme left of Breckinridge's division. This disposition of the forces and the energetic conduct of the Confederate commanders, explain the striking features of the battle, which have been so often remarked—the methodical success of the Confederates, upon the first day, the certainty with which they won their way forward against the most determined resistance; the "clock-like" regularity of their advance, the desperate struggle, the Federal retreat, repeated again and again through the day. Taking into consideration the circumstances under which the collision occurred, military savants will, some day, demonstrate that success ought, with mathematical certainty, to have resulted from the tactics of General Johnson. An army moving to attack (an enemy, surprised and unprepared), in three lines, supported by a reserve, and with its flanks perfectly protected, ought to have delivered crushing and continuous blows. Such a formation, directed by consummate skill and the finest nerve in a commander, of troops who believed that to fight would be to win, promised an onset well nigh irresistible.

The afternoon wore away and no sign in the enemy's camps indicated that he had discovered our presence. The night fell, and, the stern preparations for the morrow, having been all completed, the army sank to rest. The forest was soon almost as still as before it had been tenanted with the hosts of war. But, before the day broke, the army was astir; the bugles sounded the reveille on all sides, and the long lines began to form. About five o'clock, the first gun rang on the front—another and another, succeeding, as our skirmishers pressed on, until the musketry grew into the crackling, labored sound, which precedes the roar of real battle. The troops seemed excited to frenzy by the sound. It was the first fight in which the majority of them had ever been engaged, and they had, as yet, seen and suffered nothing to abate the ardor with which the high-spirited young fellows panted for battle. Every one who witnessed that scene—the marshaling of the Confederate army for attack upon the morning of the sixth of April—must remember more distinctly than any thing else, the glowing enthusiasm of the men, their buoyancy and spirited impatience to close with the enemy. As each regiment formed upon the ground where it had bivouacked, the voice of its commander might be heard as he spoke high words of encouragement to his men, and it would ring clearer as he appealed to their regimental pride, and bade them think of the fame they might win. When the lines began to advance, the wild cheers which arose made the woods stir as if with the rush of a mighty wind. No where was there any thought of fear—every where were the evidences of impetuous and determined valor.

For some distance the woods were open and clear of undergrowth, and the troops passed through, preserving their array with little difficulty; but as the point, where the fight between the pickets had commenced, was neared, the timber became dwarfed into scrubby brush, and at some places dense thickets impeded the advance. The ground, too, grew rugged and difficult of passage in unbroken line. Frequent halts to reform and dress the ranks became necessary, and at such times General Johnson's magnificent battle order was read to the regiments, and its manly, heroic language was listened to with the feeling it was intended to evoke. The gray, clear morning was, ere long, enlivened with a radiant sunrise. As the great light burst in full splendor above the horizon, sending brilliancy over the scene, many a man thought of the great conqueror's augury and pointed in exultation and hope to the "Sun of Shiloh." Breckinridge's division went into the fight last, and, of course, saw or heard a great deal of it, before becoming itself actively engaged. Not far off, on the left and center, the fight soon grew earnest, as Hardee dashed resolutely on; the uneasy, broken rattle of the skirmishers gave way to the sustained volleys of the lines, and the artillery joined in the clamor, while away on the right, the voice of the strife swelled hoarser and angrier, like the growl of some wounded monster—furious and at bay. Hardee's line carried all before it. At the first encampment it met not even the semblance of a check. Following close and eager upon the fleeing pickets, it burst upon the startled inmates as they emerged, half clad, from their tents, giving them no time to form, driving them in rapid panic, bayoneting the dilatory—on through the camp swept, together, pursuers and pursued. But now the alarm was thoroughly given, the "long roll" and the bugle were calling the Federals to arms; all through their thick encampments they were hastily forming.

As Hardee, close upon the haunches of the foe he had first started, broke into another camp, a long line of steel and flame met him, staggering, and for a little while, stopping his advance. But his gallant corps was still too fresh for an enemy, not yet recovered from the enervating effects of surprise, to hold it back long. For a while it writhed and surged before the stern barrier suddenly erected in its front, and then, gathering itself, dashed irresistibly forward. The enemy was beaten back, but the hardy Western men who filled his ranks (although raw and for the first time under fire) could not be forced to positive flight. They had once formed, and at this stage of the battle, they could not be routed. They had little discipline, but plenty of staunch courage. Soon they turned for another stand, and the Confederates were, at once, upon them. Again they gave way, but strewed the path of their stubborn retreat with many a corpse in gray as well as in blue. At half past seven the first lines began to give signs of exhaustion, and its march over the rough ground while struggling with the enemy, had thinned and impaired it. It was time for Bragg's corps to come to the relief, and that superb line now moved up in serried strength. The first sign of slackening upon the part of the Confederates seemed to add vigor to the enemy's resistance. But bravely as they fought, they never recovered from the stun of the surprise. Their half of the battle was out of joint at the beginning, and it was never gotten right during that day. They were making desperate efforts to retrieve their lost ground when Bragg's disciplined tornado burst upon them. The shock was met gallantly but in vain. Another bloody grapple was followed by another retreat of the Federals, and again our line moved on.

Those who were in that battle will remember these successive contests, followed by short periods of apparent inaction, going on all the day. To use the illustration of one well acquainted with its plan and incidents: "It went on like the regular stroke of some tremendous machine." There would be a rapid charge and fierce fight—the wild yell would announce a Confederate success—then would ensue a comparative lull, broken again in a few minutes, and the charge, struggle and horrible din would recommence.

About half past ten Polk's corps prepared to take part in the fight. He had previously, by order personally given by General Johnson (who was all the time in the front), sent one brigade to reinforce General Bragg's right, where the second line had been most hotly engaged. He had also sent, by order of General Beauregard, one brigade to the left. The fight at this time was joined all along the line, and urged with greater fury, than at any period of the day. Almost immediately after parting with these two brigades, General Polk became engaged with the remainder of his corps. The enemy had, now, disposed his entire force for resistance—the men fought as if determined not to accept defeat—and their stern, tenacious leader was not the man to relinquish hope, although his lines had been repeatedly broken and the ground was piled with his slain. The corps of Hardee, Bragg and Polk, were now striving abreast, or mingled with each other.

In reading the reports of the Confederate Generals, frequent allusion will be found to regiments and brigades fighting without "head or orders." One commander would sometimes direct the movements of troops belonging to another. At this phase of the struggle, the narrative should dwell more upon "the biographies of the regiments than the history of the battle." But the wise arrangement of the lines and the instructions given subordinate commanders, ensured harmonious action and the desired result.

Each brigade commander was ordered (when he became disengaged), to seek and attack the nearest enemy, to press the flank of every stubborn hostile force which his neighbors could not move, and at all hazards to press forward. General Johnson seemed to have adopted the spirit of the motto, "When fighting in the dark, strike out straight." He more than once assumed command of brigades which knew not what to do, and led them to where they could fight with effect. Our successes were not won without costly sacrifices, and the carnage was lavish upon both sides.

While all this was going on in front, Morgan's squadron moved along with Breckinridge's division, and we listened to the hideous noise, and thought how much larger the affair was than the skirmishes on Green river and around Nashville. We soon learned to distinguish when the fight was sharp and hotly contested, and when our lines were triumphantly advancing, and we wondered if those before us would finish the business before we got in.

We had not marched far, before we saw bloody indications of the fierce work that had been done upon the ground over which we were passing. The dead and the wounded were thick in the first camp, and, thence, onward. Some of the corpses (of men killed by artillery), showed ghastly mutilation. In getting up our glowing anticipation of the day's programme, we had left these items out of the account, and we mournfully recognized the fact, that many who seek military distinction, will obtain it posthumously, if they get it at all. The actual sight of a corpse immensely chills an abstract love of glory. The impression soon wears off, however, and the dead are very little noticed. Toward ten or eleven o'clock we wandered away from the infantry to which we had been attached, and getting no orders or instructions, devoted ourselves to an examination of the many interesting scenes of the field, which we viewed with keen relish.

The camps whence the enemy had been driven, attracted especial and admiring attention. There was a profusion of all the necessaries, and many of the luxuries of military life. How we wondered that an army could have ever permitted itself to be driven away from them.

While we were curiously inspecting the second or third encampment, and had gotten closer, than at any time previously, to the scene of the fighting, a slight incident interrupted, for a moment, the pleasure of the investigation. Some of the enemy's shells were bursting over our heads, and as we were practically ignorant of artillery, we were at first puzzled to know what they were. In the general thunder of the fight, no special reports could be heard, to lead to a solution of the particular phenomena. Suddenly a short yell of mingled indignation and amazement, announced that one of the party had some practical information on the subject. He had been struck by a fragment on the shoulder, inflicting a severe gash and bruise. Not knowing how the missile had reached him, he seemed to think himself a very ill-treated man.

Just as Breckinridge's division was going into action, about 12 p.m., we came upon the left of it, where the Kentucky troops were formed. The bullets were beginning to fly thick about us. Simultaneously, the squadron and the regiment nearest to us, struck up the favorite song of the Kentuckians, "Cheer Boys, Cheer"—the effect was animating beyond all description.

About this time our advance was receiving its first serious check. While the right and the left were advancing, the left-center was repulsed before a strong position which the enemy held in force. They were posted upon an eminence, in front of which were thickets and underbrush. Plenty of artillery strongly supported, crowned this eminence, and Hardee's utmost efforts to carry it had been foiled. So furiously played the batteries of the enemy, that nothing could be seen of the position, but sheets of flame and clouds of smoke. When an advance was attempted against it, a shower of minnie balls would be felt. It was finally taken, after the impetus given the line by the arrival of the reserve under Breckinridge, had sent our forces forward on both sides so far, that it was completely flanked. While the advance, at this point, was thus suspended, the squadron happened to approach, and General Hardee sent an aide to know "what cavalry that was?" Upon learning that it was Morgan's, he expressed himself much pleased, and said that he would use it to "take that battery." When informed of this truly gratifying compliment, the men bore themselves with becoming sobriety, and as they formed for the charge, which we were told would be immediately ordered, they indulged in no unseemly or extravagant expressions of joy. Indeed, it is an historical fact, that while we were ready enough to go, we were not so sanguine of the result as General Hardee seemed to be. The General sat on his horse near Schoup's gallant battery which was replying, but ineffectually, to the vicious rain of grape and shell which poured from the hill. He seemed indifferent to the terrible volleys, and only anxious to capture the guns.

The order, we were expecting, was never given us. At the first slackening of the fire from the hill, some of the infantry regiments, which were lying down, dashed forward, but the enemy left the position because he was in danger of being surrounded. Many of the guns were abandoned.

The right was now checked, meeting the fiercest resistance. The left and center bore rapidly forward.

From a passage in General Bragg's report, it would seem that it had been part of the plan to press more strongly upon our right and drive the enemy down the river, "leaving the left open for him to escape." But it was already apparent that he was being hemmed in and forced from all sides, toward Pittsburg Landing.

General Hardee, at this time, ordered Colonel Morgan to take his command to the extreme left, and "charge the first enemy he saw." Colonel Morgan immediately proceeded in the direction indicated as rapidly as his column could gallop. The left of our line was moving so swiftly to the front that, leaving to go some distance by a bridle path in the rear, before turning to overtake it, we did not reach it until nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Just as we approached, we saw, on the extreme left, a body of men dressed in blue uniforms, going through with some strange evolutions. Their dress was much like that of the enemy, but there were troops, evidently Confederate, not far from them that were paying them no attention. Colonel Morgan ordered a platoon of Company A, to dismount and approach them cautiously, to fire into them if satisfied that they were the enemy, and it was his intention to then charge them. We drew very near to them unnoticed. A little man flourishing a portentous saber, was directing their movements with off-hand eloquence. We forbore to fire, because, although we did not understand what he said, we thought from the emphasis of the speaker, his volubility, and the imprecatory sound of the language, that it was French, and that his party were Louisianians. This surmise was correct. They were members of Colonel Mouton's fine regiment, the Eighteenth Louisiana. Their uniform cost them dearly before the fight was over. They were frequently fired into by Confederate regiments, and received, in that way, smart loss. At length they retaliated whenever they received a volley. This caused some complaint, but it is related that the Louisianians gave sound military reasons for their conduct, saying: "We fire at any body, what fire at us—G-d d-m." Shortly after we made this discovery, we saw this regiment and a portion of the Kentucky brigade, charge across a wide field on the extreme left of our line. Here a ravine which had protected our left flank suddenly terminated, and when the line had dashed across this field and had entered the woods beyond, it was entirely uncovered. A strong force of the enemy was formed in the middle of this field (where one of the camps was situated), and the Confederates rushed so closely upon them, that it seemed as if the bayonets must cross, before they gave way. The volume of musketry in this charge was tremendous, and drowned the crash of the artillery. When the Federals turned to retreat they still preserved their array, and went off in perfect order.

They frequently faced about to fire on their pursuers, who poured continuous volleys into them, and thus fighting they disappeared in the woods. Our squadron and the Texian rangers—Eighth Texas—were following behind the infantry, and had been unable to get past them, or (on account of the ravine) to the left of them. Now, however, an opportunity of actively participating in the battle occurred, which we had not expected. As we were pressing across the field, some Federal skirmishers appeared in the edge of the woods upon the left of the field, not more than eighty yards from us. They directed their attention principally to Byrne's battery, which was also crossing the field, and prevented the cannoneers from unlimbering the guns. Colonel Morgan at once ordered the charge, and the squadron dashed at full gallop into the woods. The skirmishers ran back, but as we forced our way in a crowded mass (all line lost) through the thickets, we came suddenly upon the infantry regiment to which these skirmishers belonged. Fortunately for us, this regiment, in scrambling through the brush, had lost the compactness of its formation. We came close upon them before the Federals fired—they delivered one stunning volley, the blaze almost reaching our faces, and the roar rang in our ears like thunder. The next moment we rode right through them—some of the men trying to cut them down with the saber, and making ridiculous failures, others doing real execution with gun and pistol. We lost only three men killed, but they were noble, gallant soldiers—Lieutenant James West and privates Samuel Buckner and James Ghiselin. We lost several others wounded. Twelve of the enemy were killed and a few made prisoners. The affair was over directly, and the Federals retreated. The Texians, as we prepared to charge, asked what we were going to do. "To go in," was the answer, "Then we will go in, too," they shouted, and galloping down the rear of our line, until they reached the right of it, they turned short to the left and charged into the woods. They struck the rest of the brigade to which the regiment we had met belonged, and drove it back for some distance. They were never checked until they reached a high fence, which they could not pass. Their loss was then severe, and many of their riderless horses came galloping over the ground where our wounded lay.

Our infantry had pressed on beyond this point, and there was no Confederate force near except this cavalry. It was impossible to conjecture how strong the enemy was just here, but Colonel Morgan, fearing that he might come in force sufficient to endanger this flank, disposed his command on foot, to make all possible resistance in such an event. Our skirmishers, thrown forward, could not find him, and the receding din of the battle seemed to promise perfect safety against all such dangers. About half-past one or two o'clock, occurred the great calamity which rendered unavailing all of the sacrifices and successes of the day. General Johnson was killed. He had exposed himself with almost culpable recklessness. From the commencement of the fight he had been in the van—cheering the struggling men—adding fresh spirit to the charge—stimulating to new energy the battalions that were checked. His clothing had been torn by balls which were unheeded.

Once he had ridden along the rear of a brave Arkansas Regiment, which had just recoiled from a terrible fire. "Where now," he said, striking some of the men encouragingly upon the shoulder, "are the Arkansas boys, who boasted that they would fight with their bowie knives? You have a nobler weapon in your grasp—will you dare to use it?" He spoke to men who could not hear such words in vain—they rushed forward and won the position.

Statham's magnificent brigade had at length faltered. General Johnson, bare-headed and with his hand elevated, rode out in front of the brigade, and called on it to follow. His dress, majestic presence, imposing gesture and large gray horse, made him a conspicuous mark. A ball pierced his leg, severing the artery. He paid no notice to the wound, but continued to follow the troops, who, incited by his example, had charged successfully. Suddenly he grew faint and reeled in his saddle. His staff came to his assistance, but too late. They bore him into a ravine for shelter, and in a few moments he died. I cannot venture to speak of General Johnson in the ordinary terms of eulogy—such applied to him would seem frivolous and profane. He was too great for it in life—and it would little accord with the veneration, silent, but profound, with which we, his people, cherish his memory. If he had lived but a few days more! Shortly after this great disaster the lines were pressed forward rapidly again at all points. Our troops were still instinct with the spirit of the lost leader. His genius had prepared effects, accomplished after he was gone. The left had swept far around—the center, where the latest check had been felt, was a little behind—the right driving everything before it, when, by hard fighting the resistance opposed to it at noon had been overcome, was approaching the river.

Now the word was passed through the army, "Let every order be forward." In the last determined stand which the enemy made, Major General Prentice and two thousand of his division were captured. His troops stood, until the advancing Confederates closed in on two sides, and escape had become impossible.

Our army was now near the river, and a victory absolutely complete and decisive, was just within its grasp. The fighting had been hard and our success blood-bought but brilliant. For many miles (through his encampments, piled up with rich spoils) we had driven the enemy. His brave resistance had at length been completely broken, and after immense losses, he seemed ready to yield. It is an indisputable fact, that for an hour, at least, before the Confederate advance was checked by order of the Commanding General, it was meeting with no sort of check from the enemy. The Northern writers, who shortly after the battle described it, one and all depicted a scene of utter confusion and consternation as prevailing in the Federal army, crowded upon the bank of the river. Scarcely a semblance of resistance (according to these writers), was maintained—while thousands (all discipline and confidence gone), were prepared to surrender. Hundreds, unable to force their way upon the boats, plunged into the river and were drowned.

The head of Buell's column commenced to arrive late in the afternoon, and the troops were crossed as rapidly as they came up. Nelson's division crossed first. The leading brigade was compelled to force its way through the mass of fugitives. On that afternoon, the second chance which the Confederacy had, to win the war, was thrown away.

All night long, the huge pieces upon the gunboats thundered at intervals, with a roar which seemed like that of a bursting firmament. They had been opened during the afternoon, but, on account of the great elevation necessary to enable them to shoot over the bluffs, the shells had gone high in the air. These huge missiles came screaming louder than a steam whistle, striking off the tops of trees, and filling the air with dense clouds of smoke when they burst, but doing no damage.

During the night little was done to reorganize the Confederate soldiery. Only Bragg's corps maintained its discipline. Thousands of stragglers (from the other corps) roamed over the field to plunder and riot. The Federal Generals strained every nerve to repair their disaster. The fugitives were collected and placed again in the ranks. The boats plied steadily, bringing over Buell's fresh and undiscouraged forces, and at six o'clock next morning the victors were in their turn assailed by an army larger than the one they had confronted on the day before, and half of which was fresh and unwearied. General Beauregard disposed his tired troops to receive this storm—and although his line was thin—weakened (from the superb array of the day before) by the dead and wounded and those who had straggled from their colors—it could not be driven.

General Beauregard in his report of the battle, says:

"On his right and center the enemy was repulsed in every effort he made with his heavy columns in that quarter of the field. On the left, our line was weakest, and here the enemy drove on line after line of fresh troops with unremitting fury." Our troops stood firm, but General Beauregard feared that they must eventually break, and at 12 p.m. (all of his scanty reserves having been put in) he ordered a withdrawal of the line.

After a repulse of a desperate attack the troops began to retire, and accomplished the movement without trouble. General Beauregard says: "The lines of troops established to cover this movement had been disposed on a favorable ridge—commanding the ground of Shiloh Church, from this position our artillery played upon the woods beyond, but upon no visible enemy, and without a reply. Soon satisfied that no serious pursuit was, or would be attempted, this last line was withdrawn, and never did troops leave a battlefield in better order."

General Breckinridge (whose heroic conduct on both days had almost repaid the Kentuckians—in their pride in it—for the loss of the battle) was left as rear guard, just in front of the intersection of the Pittsburg and Hamburg roads—upon the ground occupied by the army upon Saturday night. On the next day he was withdrawn three miles to Mickey's, and remained there undisturbed for five or six days. Our cavalry occupied the ground several miles further to the north. Morgan's squadron, and other cavalry commands, were posted for more than a week upon a portion of the field won from the enemy on the first day, during which time only two or three trifling skirmishes occurred.

The army marched to Corinth on the 7th and 8th.

It is a point conceded, now, on all sides, that had the Confederate army pursued its success on the evening of the first day, the army under General Grant would have been annihilated, and Buell never could have crossed the river. Had General Johnson survived, the battle would have been pressed vigorously to that consummation. Then, what would have been the situation? The army, remaining upon the banks of the Tennessee for a few days, would have been reorganized and recovered from the exhausting effects of the battle. The slightly wounded returning to the ranks would have made the muster-roll full thirty thousand effectives.

Price and Van Dorn coming with about fifteen thousand and the levies from all quarters, which were hastening to Corinth, would have given General Johnson nearly sixty thousand infantry. Buell, unable to cross the river or to use it for obtaining supplies, his communications with Nashville in constant danger, and hourly interrupted by the five or six thousand cavalry which General Johnson could have thrown upon them, would have been suspended without the ability to obtain foothold or prop anywhere. If nothing else could have made him retreat, a menace to Nashville, from the troops in East Tennessee, would have served the purpose. Then General Johnson could have crossed the river, and the cavalry have been pushed on to operate between Nashville and Louisville. General Buell would not have halted to fight. With the odds against him, to do that (in the heart of a hostile population and far from support) would have been too hazardous. But retreat would have been almost as disastrous as defeat, and, closely pressed, would have resulted in the partial disintegration of his army. Military men, who understand the situation, and the topography of the country, will concur in the opinion that General Buell could not have halted with safety at Nashville, nor, indeed, until he had reached Munfordsville.

Gentlemen who were upon General Johnson's staff, and in his confidence, state that it was his intention to have attempted no march into Kentucky, but that if Buell retreated beyond the Cumberland river, he designed (while keeping his cavalry on the railroad between Nashville and Louisville) to have marched his army, rapidly, along the South bank of the Cumberland to the Ohio river, and, crossing that stream, to have pushed into Illinois, and (destroying the great trunk lines of railroads) have marched to Kentucky by way of Ohio. He could have made the march in less time than troops could have been organized to oppose him. The plan appeared daring to rashness, but where were the forces to endanger such a march? The militia could not have stopped it a moment. General Johnson believed that, his army would have increased as it advanced, and that vacillation and disaffection removed from Kentucky and Missouri, would be transferred to the Northwestern States, and that negotiations for peace would be entertained by those States separately.

But the battle of Shiloh was, after all, a Confederate success. The army of invasion was crippled and reduced to a cautious offensive, little better than inactivity. The Federal arms were stayed and blunted, and the Southern people, reanimated, prepared for fresh and vigorous resistance.

When relieved from duty on the field of Shiloh, Colonel Morgan sought and obtained permission to dash into Tennessee, with a force adequate to important results. While the army lay in the entrenchments around Corinth, which the Federal forces under Halleck were tediously approaching, he wished to pounce upon the rich prizes in their rear. He assembled the troops, with which he was about to make the contemplated expedition at Byrnesville, on or about the twenty-third of April.

His own command, Companies A, B and C, respectively commanded by Lieutenants Sellers, Chadburn and Churchill, had been augmented by a fourth company, or rather nucleus of a company, some twenty-five strong, commanded by Captain Brown—a gallant officer. Detachments from Colonel Wirt Adams' regiment and McNairy's battalion had, also, been assigned him. These were commanded by his friend, Lieutenant Colonel Wood, and Captain Harris. The entire force at his disposal numbered three hundred and twenty-five effectives. Colonel Morgan was detained at Byrnesville for several days, having his horses shod, arms put in order, rations cooked, and other necessary arrangements for the expedition perfected. When all was ready, the command commenced its march on the 26th. Extra ammunition and rations were carried on pack mules—one being allowed to each section, or four to a company.

These mules were led by men, detailed from the section to which they were attached, and the "train" was placed under charge of private Frank Leathers—called by courteous reminiscence of his former rank in the Kentucky militia, and as ex-legislator—Colonel. This gallant gentleman will pardon me for complimenting the energy and diligence he displayed, by recording the grumbling acknowledgment of one of those he "put in motion," who declared that "he made a bigger row in driving his mules than was necessary to align a division of cavalry for action."

Passing through Iuka, that day, the command encamped six miles from the Tennessee river, and reaching it early next morning, immediately commenced to cross. The river was high, and there was nothing with which to effect the crossing, but one boat—a small horse-ferry, capable of holding ten or twelve. Efforts were made (unsuccessfully), to cross a portion of the command at other points. Two days and nights of hard work were occupied in getting every thing across. One of the men who was actively engaged in the work, describes an apprehension which rendered it more disagreeable. "We had," he says, "the gunboat fever very badly, at that time, and expected every minute to see one come in sight, for they were patroling the river for some miles above this point."

Leaving the river on the morning of the 30th, Colonel Morgan reached Lawrenceburg, in Lawrence county, Tennessee, on that afternoon, and encamped for the night. It was a fertile country, settled by hospitable people. Rations and forage in abundance were procured, and a good deal more whisky than was good for the men. Early on the next morning the march, was resumed, and about 10 a.m. (not far from Pulaski), Colonel Morgan learned that four hundred Federal troops had just passed through on the road to Columbia. They were principally convalescents, employed in putting up a line of telegraph from Columbia to Huntsville, Alabama, and other "light work." Colonel Morgan determined to relieve them. The command was pressed on to the town in a gallop. Captain Mitchell (son of the Federal General of that name), was captured here, and paroled, that he might effect his exchange for Colonel Morgan's brother—Captain Charlton Morgan—who had been wounded at Shiloh, and captured at Huntsville—whither he had gone to convalesce in the smiles of the fair ladies of that beautiful place. Moving on rapidly, Colonel Morgan overtook the enemy a short distance beyond the town, and at once attacked. Learning his approach, the Federals had hastily thrown up some slight breastworks in a field on the side of the road (in which a part of them were posted)—others occupied a wood on the left of the road. Colonel Morgan formed his command, and—the ground permitting—charged on horseback, carrying the entire line. Many prisoners were captured, the remnant of the Federal force rallied after retreating about a mile, leaving wagons. They were flanked by Co. A, and surrendered.

At this juncture, a body of cavalry appeared, approaching from the direction of Columbia. Not knowing their strength, Colonel Morgan engaged them with skirmishers. Finding them not strong, he ordered Captain Brown to charge them, who routed and drove them six or seven miles. They were about fifty strong. Colonel Morgan's loss in this affair was slight. A few, only, of the enemy were killed. The prisoners (nearly four hundred), were taken back to Pulaski. The citizens were enthusiastic in their reception of Colonel Morgan and his soldiers—the men were wild with excitement, and the women were in tears. Colonel Morgan's celebrated mare, "Black Bess"—came in for her share of admiration and attention. The ladies crowded around to caress and feed her with dainties (for which she had a weakness), and her glossy tresses were in great request. It is recorded that upon this occasion, for the first and only time in his life—Colonel Morgan opposed the wishes of his lady friends. Fearing that Bess would be completely shorn, he "tore her away," and sent her to the stable. Guards and pickets were posted, and the command encamped. Twenty wagons—six loaded with cotton—were captured, here, and burned. On the next morning—the 2nd—the officer commanding pickets on the Huntsville road, reported that a train of wagons was approaching. The command was drawn up to receive them, but learning that they were escorted by a strong regiment, Colonel Morgan decided not to attack. Moving on in the direction of Murfreesboro', the command encamped that night in a loyal neighborhood, and mindful always of a decorous respect for the opinions of other people, Colonel Morgan made all of his men "play Union." They were consequently treated with distinguished consideration, and some were furnished with fresh horses, for which they gave their kind friends orders (on the disbursing officers at Nashville), for their back pay.

On the 3rd the column reached Harrington—fifteen miles from Shelbyville. Some lots of cotton were burned on that day. General Beauregard (in accordance with the instructions of the War Department) had issued orders that all cotton (likely to fall into the enemy's hands) should be burned. The command remained at Harrington during the night. Over one store the stars and stripes were floating resplendent. The men were so much pleased with this evidence of patriotism that they would patronize no other store in the place. Reaching the vicinity of Murfreesboro', on the night of the 4th, Colonel Morgan drove in all the pickets (next morning) and made a circuit about the town, striking the Nashville and Murfreesboro' pike, about five miles from Stone river. The advance guard captured a few of the enemy's videttes on this road.

Some cotton was burned, and the telegraph wires were cut, after a dispatch had been sent to Nashville to the effect that Morgan had captured Shelbyville, and Murfreesboro' wanted reinforcements. Colonel Morgan (anticipating brilliant feats in that line in the future) carried a telegraph operator (provided with a pocket instrument) upon this expedition. That night (at dark) the column reached Lebanon, in Wilson county. The entire command was quartered in the town. Companies A, B and C (of the Squadron) were placed at the college. The horses were tied in the large yard and the men occupied the building. The detachments under Colonel Wood, Captain Harris and Captain Brown were quartered at the livery stables. Colonel Morgan's headquarters were at the hotel. Colonel Wood, who had been left in the vicinity of Murfreesboro', with a small party, to observe if the enemy followed, came in, some hours after nightfall, and reported that all was quiet.

It was Colonel Morgan's intention to have moved at an early hour next morning, and to have crossed the Cumberland river at Canoe-branch ferry, about ten miles from Lebanon. Orders were issued that the men should saddle their horses at four o'clock, and that the command should form immediately afterward. These orders were not communicated to the company commanders. The night was rainy and bleak. The enemy, advancing upon the Murfreesboro' road, came to the picket stands a little before daybreak.

The pickets were all at a house. This criminal neglect of duty was disastrous. Before the videttes discovered the consequences of their bad conduct, at least one whole regiment had passed. Then one of them, named Pleasant Whitlow, a brave and (always before) excellent soldier, declared that he would retrieve his fault, or die. He was mounted upon a fleet mare, and dashed at full speed along the road, passing the Federal column, unstopped. He reached the hotel where Colonel Morgan was quartered, just as the foremost Federal approached it. As Whitlow called loudly to alarm the Colonel, the enemy fired and killed him. The men at the college had just commenced to saddle, when the enemy approached. They hurriedly formed—Company C, which was quartered in the part of the grounds nearest where the enemy entered the town, were attacked and driven pell-mell through the others, before it was fairly aligned. The three companies became mingled together, and fell back into the town and upon the road, across which Company A (extricating itself from the others) formed, under charge of its cool and gallant Orderly Sergeant, Zelah Bowyer.