In October, 1862, General Braxton Bragg, after the campaign in Kentucky, had brought his army out by Cumberland Gap, and, resting a brief while in East Tennessee, moved his forces to Murfreesboro, thirty miles southeast of Nashville. During General Bragg’s absence on his Kentucky campaign, the Federals had a large garrison at Nashville. General John C. Breckinridge, too late to enter Kentucky, with General Bragg, had been stationed at Murfreesboro with a small Confederate force to watch and hold this Nashville Federal contingent in check. By the 12th of November, General Bragg had brought his soldiers through from Knoxville to Murfreesboro. It then became apparent that somewhere in and around Murfreesboro, or between that place and Nashville, a decisive battle would be fought. The Nashville garrison, reinforced by the return of General Buell’s army, would be ready for aggressive warfare south of that city, and as Bragg’s army now intervened between these Federals and their advance southward, it required no wise military student to predict that a great struggle would soon be on. At that time few understood how great that struggle would be, or that when it was ended and the losses counted, it would rank as amongst the most sanguinary battles of the war, with a loss of two hundred and sixty men per thousand, making it, in ratio of losses, according to reports, the second bloodiest field of the Civil War. Forty days later this expected conflict took place at Murfreesboro in the Valley of Stone River.

Perryville, Kentucky, where, on the 8th of October, 1862, a battle had raged with such fierceness, had also proved a memorable conflict to the men of the Army of the Tennessee. There the Confederate loss was three thousand, two hundred and twelve, the Federal loss four thousand, two hundred and forty-one. For the number of men engaged, in proportion to the time the battle lasted, it stands in the very forefront of mortalities. General McCook, of the Federal Army, referring to it, said: “It is the bloodiest battle of modern times for the number of troops engaged on our side.” On the Confederate side one hundred and ninety-six in every thousand were killed or wounded.

On the 20th of November, 1862, the army of Tennessee was organized with General Braxton Bragg as commander. The three army corps were officered respectively by Generals E. Kirby Smith, Leonidas Polk and William J. Hardee. General Don Carlos Buell, on the Federal side, on October 30th, 1862, had been relieved, and General W. S. Rosecrans had been put in his place.

At this period of the history of the war in Tennessee, Sumner County, of which Gallatin was the county seat, was one of the richest and most productive of the agricultural districts of the State. Gallatin was thirty-five miles from Nashville, northeast. Sumner County adjoined Davidson County, of which Nashville was the county seat. East of Gallatin, some fifteen miles, was Hartsville, a small town, now the capital of Trousdale County, one and one-half miles north of the Cumberland River. Lebanon, Tennessee, the county seat of Wilson County, was due east of Nashville. A line drawn from Murfreesboro a little east of north would pass through Hartsville a distance of thirty-eight miles. Bragg’s army extended from Murfreesboro in the direction of Lebanon. A portion of his infantry was at Baird’s Mills, a village twenty miles away. Castalian Springs was between Gallatin and Hartsville, nine miles from Hartsville and six miles from Gallatin. At Castalian Springs, the Federals, under John M. Harlan, had a force numbering six thousand men. At Hartsville was Dumont’s Brigade, the 39th in the Army of the Cumberland, consisting of two thousand one hundred men.

General Morgan always maintained a very warm love of Sumner County. Some of the happiest hours of his military life were passed there. He was ever glad of an opportunity to return to Gallatin. Quite a number of his followers were residents of the county. His opportunities for scouting and getting information in that section were most excellent. He learned that the Federals had about thirteen hundred troops at Hartsville, and he calculated that their capture was not only possible, but easy, by a bold, quick dash. On August 17th, 1862, he had captured Gallatin, and with it two hundred prisoners, including Colonel Boone and the other commanding officers of the 28th Kentucky Federal Regiment. He had another remarkable experience there, of which he wrote: “... thus ended an action in which my command, not exceeding seven hundred men (one whole company being in the rear with prisoners), succeeded in defeating a brigade of twelve hundred chosen cavalry sent by General Buell to take me or drive me out of Tennessee, killing and wounding some one hundred and eighty and taking two hundred prisoners, including the brigadier-general commanding and most of the regimental officers.”

The Federal generals were justified in the belief that it was unreasonable for the Confederate troops to march northward from Murfreesboro to Hartsville when there was a full garrison at Nashville, as such a force would be exposed to a flank and rear attack from that place. John H. Morgan, though not yet having a commission of brigadier-general, was in command of a brigade composed of five regiments and two battalions. He conferred with General Bragg and mapped out a plan by which he assured General Bragg that with a force of cavalry and infantry not exceeding eighteen hundred men, it was practicable to cross the Cumberland River, attack Hartsville and capture it before the Federal Army at Castalian Springs, which was three times as strong as the force Morgan proposed to take with him, could reach Hartsville and succor the garrison there. After some discussion and prolonged consideration General Morgan’s enthusiasm overcame not only the fears but the objections of the Confederate commander, who did not fully appreciate the rapidity of cavalry movements under leaders like Forrest, Morgan and Wheeler. General Morgan devised the plan and assumed the responsibility for its success. He was willing to stake his reputation and risk his life on the outcome. He requested permission to select the force which should accompany him, and for the infantry he chose the 2nd and 9th Kentucky. These were part of what was known as the “Orphan Brigade,” at that time under command of General Roger W. Hanson, who twenty-four days later, was to die from wounds received on the battlefield of Murfreesboro, where, with his last breath, he pathetically exclaimed, “It is sweet and pleasant to die for one’s country.” Colonel Thomas H. Hunt, who had made a splendid reputation for his regiment at Shiloh, Corinth and Baton Rouge, was designated commander of the infantry. The 2nd Kentucky, under Major James W. Hewett, on this occasion carried into battle three hundred and seventy-five men, and Captain James T. Morehead led the 9th Kentucky with three hundred and twenty men, making the infantry all told six hundred and ninety-five men. The cavalry consisted of Gano’s, the 3rd Kentucky, Bennett’s, the 9th Tennessee, and Cluke’s, the 8th Kentucky, and part of Chenault’s, the 11th. Together they counted close to fifteen hundred. Two Ellsworth rifled guns and two brass howitzers comprised the artillery outfit.

At Hartsville was stationed the 104th Illinois infantry, the 2nd Indiana cavalry, the 12th Indiana battery, Company E of the 11th Kentucky cavalry, and the 106th and 108th Ohio infantry. The brigade was commanded by Captain Absalom B. Moore, of the 10th Illinois, who had come to Hartsville on the 2nd of December to relieve his predecessor, Colonel Scott, of the 19th Illinois.

General Hanson’s brigade, from which parts of the two Confederate regiments had been taken, was then at Baird’s Mills, twenty-three miles from Hartsville.

Prior to this time the infantry and cavalry which composed this expedition had not seen much of each other. At Baird’s Mills, on December 6th, for the first time, they came in real contact. The infantry looked a little askant at the cavalry. None of the horsemen going with the infantry had seen very extended service. Cluke’s, Chenault’s and Gano’s regiments and Stoner’s battalion were new and had been largely recruited in August and September in Kentucky, and Bennett’s regiment was not much better, but it was worse off so far as discipline was concerned. Early in the morning of December 6th, the cavalry regiments were marched to Baird’s Mills, arriving there at eleven o’clock. There was a macadam road from Lebanon to Hartsville. The ground was covered with snow, and the temperature was low. It was not a good day for infantry to march, and it was not favorable weather for cavalry to ride. At eleven o’clock these organizations, after a short rest, began the march out of Lebanon for Hartsville. The cavalry rode in the van with celerity, but it required three hours for the infantry to cover the eleven miles to Lebanon. By way of encouragement to the infantry, they were told that an arrangement had been made by which with the “ride and tie” system, they would be mounted half the way. Under this method the cavalry would ride five or six miles forward and leave their horses and then march five or six miles on foot. In the meantime, the infantry would come up on foot and mount the cavalry horses and then ride forward several miles and leave the horses to await the coming of their owners. Theoretically this seemed a reasonable proposition. At least it looked fair. A short distance from Lebanon the infantry felt the time had come for them to change their method of transportation. They had patiently trudged along through the wet snow, and they were sure if they could get out of the slush that the tread of the infantry and the wheels of the artillery and the tramp of the horses had created, they would be happier—at least more contented. The swap was made. The shoes of the infantry were thoroughly soaked and the freezing cold after they were mounted, benumbed their limbs. This was particularly hard on their wet feet. Unaccustomed to the methods of cavalry, they did not know how to keep warm, and in a little while they declared they would rather walk. The cavalry had gotten their feet wet while they were playing the infantry act, and slipping and sliding in the slushy material which covered the pike, they were glad to remount, but the same biting cold which so severely punished the infantry seriously troubled them. To make matters worse, the horses got mixed, and this set their owners to cursing and abusing everybody connected with the expedition. The cavalry cussed the infantry, and the infantry cussed the cavalry, and between them they cussed everybody they knew anything about. The situation was so extremely ridiculous that after awhile everybody lapsed into good humor. It was a gloomy opening for so glorious a campaign. Nature, unpropitious, appeared implacable, but the purpose and plans of the expedition soon leaked out and the entire command became at once enthused with the prospect of a fight and victory. In a brief while, with all the discomforts which surrounded them, the horsemen and the “footmen” made up, jollied each other, and swore they were glad they had come. They were assured that with Morgan, Hunt, Duke, Chenault, Cluke, Gano, Bennett and Stoner as their leaders, something really great was about to be achieved, and triumph, glory and renown were in their grasp.

General Morgan had calculated to assault at daylight. He estimated that his fighting force would be considerably larger than that of the enemy he was to attack and attempt their capture, and as they might be intrenched, he must not only take advantage of strategy, but also of the opportunities which would come from sudden and vigorous onslaught in the dark upon unprepared soldiers.

In marching the artillerymen had much the best of it, but when the fighting began they got much the worst of it. The drivers were riding, and the gunners, perched on the caissons, were removed from all contact with the slush, and by rubbing and stamping they kept their feet and hands warm enough to prevent them from getting down to walk. They looked with complacency upon their less fortunate fellows who were trudging the pike.

The Cumberland River in this locality was the dividing line between the Federal and Confederate territory. General Morgan, through his scouts, had managed to procure a few small leaky flatboats at Puryear’s Ferry, several miles below Hartsville. Around ten o’clock at night the advance guard and artillery reached the river. The infantry, beginning their marching at eleven o’clock in the morning, now, after eleven hours, had covered seventeen miles. They could almost see the lights of the camp fires at Hartsville.

From the time of the reconnaissance of Morgan’s scouts, the Cumberland River had made a material rise, and to put across the artillery between ten o’clock and three o’clock, five hours, with the inadequate equipment, was no light task. General Morgan was in immediate command of the infantry and artillery, and Colonel Basil W. Duke in charge of the cavalry. There was of necessity a great rush to get over the river in order to enable the infantry to march five miles quickly enough to strike Hartsville at daybreak, and every energy was bent to accomplish this herculean task. Finally this was safely accomplished and the infantry and artillery, full of hope, and though naturally wearied from a long, difficult march of over twenty-one miles, were inspired to new efforts when they realized that only a short distance away was the game in search of which they had come, and for the bagging of which they were undergoing such severe physical punishment.

After recovering their horses as far as possible, the cavalry left the pike and marched through the country to a ford several miles below the ferry, where the infantry and artillery had been put over. Haste and complete co-operation were equally essential in the successful issue of this perilous undertaking. Generals Morgan and Duke had calculated that the stream would be fordable, but fate again seemed to intervene to protect the Federals, quietly sleeping in their tents on the heights about Hartsville. The darkness, the severe cold, the rapid currents and the leaky, inferior boats, the difficult landings and still more difficult fords, all combined to try out the courage and metal of the men now going upon one of the most hazardous enterprises of the war. These obstacles did not shake the determination of General Morgan or the patience or courage of his men. They had come to win glory and punish their enemies. Prudence may have suggested to turn back. Morgan, believing in his destiny and relying upon the valor of his followers, resolved to go on and succeed or meet direful defeat.

In this perplexing and uncertain hour, General Morgan measured up to the highest standard of a great cavalry leader. Calm, fearless, confident, undaunted, he supervised the troublesome crossing. With Colonel Hunt of the infantry he appeared to be everywhere. His valiant spirit chafed at the unavoidable delays, but a kindly word of encouragement to his toiling, tired and half-frozen men warmed their blood into a new glow and gave them quickened action and expanded hope. The leader’s indomitable will stilled every doubt or fear and made every man in the ranks an invincible hero. The darkness, relieved only by a few flickering torches, made ghastly shadows on the muddy, sloppy banks. Pickets, hastily sent in the piercing cold, were in the silence watching for any foes who should be skulking at these unseemly hours in search of enterprising enemies, and they could hear in the Federal camps the commands spoken in relieving guards who were unconscious of the presence of Confederate legions which at earliest dawn were preparing to swoop down upon them with defeat and capture, and who by the rising of the morrow’s sun would bring death and wounds to many and captivity to all the sleeping hosts for whose defense and protection they were, with ceaseless tread, pacing the frozen and snow-clad earth.

By reason of recent rains further up the river, its currents were increased and quickened, and when the advance guard of the cavalrymen undertook to cross the river at the appointed ferry, to their dismay they discovered it was impassable at that point. Nothing daunted, however, by this unlooked-for obstacle, General Duke learned that there was a ford farther down the stream, where it was likely he could get his men and horses across, and rapidly and silently the cavalry trotted through the fields to the new ford. When this was reached it also presented most serious difficulties. It was an unused crossing, and it was impossible to get to the river except by a crooked bridle path along which the men could proceed only in single file. When the river was reached, it was found that the descent into the water was almost impossible. It was necessary to spur the horses into the stream over a bank several feet high. As a result, both men and horses were submerged in the water, and with the thermometer low in the scale, in the night time, and in the gloom of the darkness preceding the break of day, such a bath would have a fearfully chilling effect upon the ardor of any patriot. With several hundred horses tramping over the narrow path which led to the bank of the stream, the slush was churned deeper and deeper. Wet to the skin, with their clothes muddy and dripping, with their saddles, blankets and saddle pockets in the same condition, as these horsemen emerged from the stream on the north side, they found equal difficulties there. The ascent was steep and slippery and the pathway rough, and the shivering mounts with difficulty bore their riders to the open land.

Even the horses, with the vision of the misfortunes to their fellows ahead, were reluctant to make the plunge down into the river. The brutes saw the sad plight of those who were just in front, and watching them struggling in the water, they hesitated to follow in such difficult role. Spurring, pushing, driving, belaboring drove them one by one into the stream. The soldiers, shaking with cold, almost wished they were back by their happy firesides in central Kentucky, but they were game enough for any contingency war might develop, and as the leaders rode into the stream none hesitated, but all took the plunge. Those who were first over managed to build a few fires by which they might create some heat for their soaked and shivering bodies. So depressing was the temperature of the water and so great the strain on the nervous system that, after the plunge, quite a number of the command became so benumbed as to be unable to go forward. Notwithstanding the untiring efforts of General Duke, aided by the regimental officers, it was found impossible to get all the command over in time to enable the approach to Hartsville by daybreak. With part of the cavalry on one side and part on the other, General Duke, who was always prompt, at four o’clock in the morning took such men as had already passed the stream, consisting of Cluke’s, Chenault’s and Bennett’s regiments, and rode with accelerating haste to the appointed meeting place, a mile and a half from the camp of the enemy. He picketed the line of march from the ford to the junction point so that no Federal forces could prevent the remainder of the column which had been left behind from reaching those who had gone before. Six miles was between him and the spot where he had agreed to meet General Morgan, and after this union they would still be nearly three miles from Hartsville. The infantry was over, the artillery was over, and three-fifths of the cavalry, and when these were united, General Morgan decided that he could wait no more for the other regiment (Gano’s), but must take his chances with what men he had and rush the enemy. He knew full well it would not take long for the Federals to march double quick from Castalian Springs to Hartsville. This could be done under stress in two and a half hours, and when this force should reach Hartsville, General Morgan understood he would have an enemy in his rear three times as strong as his fighting men, and a body in front largely outnumbering the men he proposed carrying into the engagement. This was a period of tremendous physical and mental strain. It required supreme courage and unfailing nerve to enable even the greatest of leaders to calmly face such an emergency. The seven hundred infantry were now shut in by the river, which a short while before under great difficulties they had passed. If Colonel Harlan at Castalian Springs and the Hartsville garrison should unite, even the courage of the “Orphan Brigade” would be severely tested to face such tremendous odds. In a crisis, the cavalry might scatter and ride away, but the infantry would have no chance of crossing the Cumberland, or marching through the country on foot. Victory, and victory quick, was the only solution of the grave problems of the hour. Boldness, promptness, intrepidity, desperate courage might save the situation, and it was not without serious, but silent misgivings that General Morgan ordered the command forward. In his calm and unruffled countenance, in his self-possessed and undisturbed demeanor, none could detect the conflict and struggle that was filling his mind and heart. There were no preliminaries that required a moment’s delay. Instant and fierce fighting might win. Hesitation or doubt would bring certain disaster. In the silence and gloom of the night, led by the guides, familiar with every foot of the way, those who walked and those who rode pressed on to find the sleeping foe. Few commands were necessary. The column covered more than a mile, but the horsemen in front followed hard upon the guides, and the infantry with quickened steps, kept a pace that left no intervals between the mounted men who in the vanguard held the place of danger and honor.

As the day was breaking, the cavalrymen in advance struck a strong picket force half a mile south of the Federal camp. The outpost fired and retreated. This awakened the sleeping Federals. Aroused, they immediately got ready to receive these early, unwelcome morning callers. General Morgan had not expected to capture the pickets. He hoped the cavalry would capture most of the camp, ride down the sentinels, and the infantry coming up would thoroughly finish what the cavalry had begun.

In the incredibly short space of time that intervened between the attack and the real fight, the surprised Federals formed a line of battle. They had been taken unawares, but they were not disposed to run away without a conflict. They were on an elevation which slightly raised them above the surrounding fields through which the Confederates must approach. The report brought to Morgan made the numbers of the Federals at Hartsville somewhere around thirteen hundred, but through the dim light of the morning, when he saw twenty-one hundred men instead of thirteen hundred spring into line, immediately it was suggested to his mind that maybe it might have been wiser for him to have remained on the south side of the Cumberland. As they rode into the line of battle, Colonel Duke casually remarked to General Morgan that he had gotten more than he had bargained for, to which Morgan quickly replied, “We must whip and catch these fellows and cross the river in two hours and a half or we will have three thousand men on our backs.” Then he did not know how greatly the army under Harlan outnumbered the little force with him, which his faith in them and in himself had led him to venture into such perilous surroundings. Had he known all he might even have hesitated and he would surely more strenuously have hastened the destroying hands of his followers in burning and wrecking the stores he had captured. If the men at Hartsville could hold off the attack a sufficient length of time to enable the men from Castalian Springs to reach the scene the seven hundred infantry and six hundred cavalry in line would make the issue very uncertain. At that time, General Morgan did not have more than twelve hundred men with which to go after the enemy. Brave, defiant and hopeful, he had sent Bennett’s regiment into the town to prevent the escape of the Federals. It really looked for a moment as if nobody would have to look after the escape of the Federals, but that Morgan would have to look sharply after his own escape. The Federal officers could hardly believe that so small a Confederate force would dare approach the position they were now attacking, and the audacity of Morgan’s movement created the impression of a very large force, and this did much to demoralize the Federal garrison. In sight of each other the two opposing armies formed their lines. The Federal force was composed of nearly all infantry. They had only a small number of cavalry. The lines were formed about twelve hundred feet apart, and the skirmishers from these two armies filled the intervening space and promptly opened a spasmodic fusillade.

Cluke’s and Chenault’s men, riding swiftly upon the scene, instantly dismounted and gallantly sprang into the fight. Although they only numbered four hundred and fifty men, they looked like several thousand to the affrighted Federals who, rushing out of the tents, were not in a frame of mind to calculate with mathematical exactness the number of those who, intent on conflict, were rapidly and fearlessly rushing into their camp. The skirmishers at once became busy and annoying, but Cluke and Chenault double-quicked within three hundred feet of where the Federal skirmishers were. The Federals fired a volley and then retreated, but the dismounted cavalry rushed on as if nothing had happened. One hundred and eighty feet away another volley was fired, and still Cluke and Chenault were advancing. As Cluke and Chenault got within close quarters the 104th Illinois infantry fired at short range. They attempted to back and reload their guns, but a second volley from the dismounted cavalry caused them to break in great disorder. Within thirty minutes of the time Cluke’s and Chenault’s men began to fire, they had cleared their front of any organized resistance. In the meantime the enemy’s artillery was hammering away at Cobb’s two pieces. He had only two caissons, but one of these was blown up by an exploding shell from the enemy and his battery had suffered a loss of more than twenty per cent of its members. The Federal artillery was handled bravely and skillfully and inflicted severe damage upon Cobb’s men and caissons.

The infantry had marched twenty miles over snow-covered, slushy roads, along every step of which incisive cold had partially benumbed their limbs. The warm work of battle gave them new physical energies. As the 2nd Kentucky dashed across the space that separated them from the Federals, somebody unfortunately gave the order to “Halt and dress.” The enemy had been driven back before the impetuous charge of the cavalry, and the infantry lost no time in finishing the brave work of the horsemen. With victory just within their grasp, there was no need for “dressing.” A number of officers sprang to the front and countermanded the order, and Captain Joyce, seizing the colors, waved them in the dim light of the early morning and bade the men to follow where he would lead. At this juncture a concentrated fire of the Federals resulted in great loss to the 2nd Kentucky Infantry. For an instant the line swerved uncertainly, and then this regiment with eager, resistless fury, rushed to the conflict again. The 9th Kentucky infantry now wheeled into action. Stirred with the battle sounds, they pressed upon their foes like lions released from their cages. Fortunately, at the critical moment, one hundred of Gano’s regiment, which had later crossed the Cumberland River, precipitated themselves into the conflict. Their coming was timely. Their shouts and reckless charge added new terrors to the already disturbed garrison. The Federals, with the Confederates in the front and on their flank, were driven into a narrow space and suffered severely from the pitiless and well-directed fire of the men in gray. The incessant thud of the minie balls told the story of the havoc. It appeared to the affrighted Federals that there was no hope of escape. In seventy-five minutes from the time the opening shot had been fired the white flag was run up. The Federal garrison had surrendered, and the first act of the drama had been finished.

For the length of time the Confederates were engaged the losses were large. The 9th Infantry lost seventeen men, the 2nd lost sixty-eight, the 11th Kentucky Cavalry, seventeen, Cobb’s battery, ten, and Cluke’s regiment, thirty-two. More than half the entire loss fell on the 2nd Kentucky Infantry. With two hundred and thirty men engaged, Cluke’s regiment reported a loss of thirty-two, making its casualties fourteen per cent of the men carried into the fight. Gano, Chenault and Bennett had twelve killed, wounded or missing. Lieutenant-Colonel Cicero Coleman, of the 8th Cavalry, ever chivalrous and gallant, while nobly leading a section of his regiment, was seriously wounded.

Two handsomer men than Colonel Cluke or Lieutenant-Colonel Coleman could rarely be found in any organization. Both over six feet, both splendid horsemen, always erect and graceful in their saddles, and full of magnetism, they communicated by their superb presence and their fearless conduct to the men of the regiment an enthusiasm in war’s operations that was always inspiring and helpful, and made each man believe that the result of the conflict was dependent upon his personal valor.

To the Federals there came a heavy loss of killed and wounded. Eighteen hundred prisoners were forced across the Cumberland and were turned in to the Confederate headquarters at Murfreesboro.

Danger was now imminent on every side. One could breathe it in the air. An attack from the forces at Castalian Springs was momentarily expected, but General Morgan could not resist the impulse to destroy wagons and stores, and these things were quickly reduced to ashes. A large amount of clothing was seized in this fortunate capture. Boots and shoes meant much to some of the cavalry regiments, especially the 8th and 11th, who in the march had to reinforce their worn boots and shoes with pieces of blanket. In the face of impending and immediate attack the work of destruction was thoroughly completed. It was against the creed of Morgan’s men to leave anything undestroyed that could aid a foe.

A suspicious firing was soon heard in the direction of Castalian Springs. Quirk’s scouts were doing their best and bravest to hold the Federals in check. They were retiring only because the numbers of the enemy were overwhelming, but the Enfield rifles were speaking defiance to their assailants, and if they were receding it was only because prudence bade them go. Colonel Cluke and his regiment were sent to aid in the show of resistance and the pressure, still increasing, became so great that Gano’s regiment, which in the meantime had arrived, was sent to their support.

Time was never more valuable to any army than to this little Confederate brigade now leaving Hartsville. The Cumberland River, difficult of fording, was in front, and an enemy three times as strong was now pressing vigorously behind.

The artillery, which had been brought along, together with the captured guns, was placed on the south bank to protect the crossing. Courtesy to the conquered ceased to be the order of the hour. The captured were urged and driven forward at the highest possible speed. Some were hesitant about going, but war knows nothing of the law of politeness and their captors demanded double quick march from the crestfallen and distressed prisoners. The wagons were placed in front. Two captured Parrot guns made splendid companions for the “bull pups.” These remained with the Division until General Morgan’s capture in Ohio, July 26th, 1863. One of these was called “Long Tom” and was the object of great admiration and was held in truest affection by the whole force.

As the Confederates approached the river, the infantry began to be very chummy with the cavalry. At the highest possible speed and with great haste they had marched away from the scene of their splendid achievement. They had not been subjected to the bath which a few hours before had been the fate of the horsemen and they had no fancy to ford the icy stream, even under the Federal pressure behind them. A glorious victory had been won, in the winning of which every part of the brigade had borne a distinguished part. Heroes of a common venture, they were alike jubilant over the brilliant work of the morning, and when they got down to the stream it required neither pleading nor threats for the infantry to secure seats behind the horsemen, and so, two on each steed, with their legs lifted high out of the cold water, the patient, gentle, useful horses carried the victors to the south side of the stream.

Among the triumphs and congratulations, the cavalry was not indisposed to be generous to the unfortunate prisoners, and after the infantry had been delivered on the south side, where they might defend any attack of the approaching Federals, now extremely annoying and persistent, they recrossed the stream, and each horseman took a prisoner behind him and thus ferried him over, but the pursuit became fiercer and stronger, and as the cavalry, which were fighting the advance from Castalian Springs approached the stream, the situation became so emergent that the unfortunate prisoners who had not gotten a seat behind the cavalry were forced into the stream, which reached their waists, and required a wade through the rapid, cold current. This was not done without some threats of violence, but the water was to be preferred to bullets, and reluctantly, and with loud protests against such violation of the laws of war, accompanied by all sorts of “back talk,” the Federal prisoners were rushed through the water and with a close line of horsemen on either side were hurried across the stream. The victors had not thought of parole. Even if they had, there was no time to carry out the details of such a process. The eighteen hundred prisoners would look well in the column of the returning heroes when they reached Baird’s Mills and Murfreesboro, and with grim grip, the Confederates held on to their prisoners. Here and there one dropped out, but almost the entire number was gotten safely over the river and finally delivered to the guards at headquarters.

The rear guard bravely defended every foot of the ground. They were anxious to get away, but prudence and pride alike required that they should make stubborn resistance, and with every expedient known to cavalrymen, they delayed the approach of the Federal forces. The Federal commander had some disquieting fears about the number of men that were engaged in the expedition, and he did not press the pursuit as savagely as he would have done had he known that less than seven hundred men were standing in the pathway he must travel to reach his adventurous foes, who were now divided by the rapid currents of the icy stream.

A part of the Confederate dead who so gloriously had died were left behind. Their enemies gave them burial. War destroys the tenderness of sentiment. The safety of their own lives was more important than the sepulture of the slain, however bravely they had gone down in the struggle. Most of the wounded were placed in wagons and ambulances, which were driven away from the scene of carnage and battle. The infantry, in defense of their wounded comrades, had the call been made, would have been extremely dangerous customers. The economics of war are ruthless. The living, the fighters, are to be considered, and then the maimed and dead. On the horsemen fell the burden of the defense of the rear. During all the expedition, the web-footed infantry had gotten the worst of the deal, and the cavalry, gay, happy and mounted, were disposed to place no unnecessary work upon their comrades who were trudging their way back to their comrades, who were longing to hear the tidings of what battle had brought to those who had been selected for so dangerous a mission.

If the infantry had looked with side glances at the cavalry when at Baird’s Mills, they had now lost the recollection of such ungenerous feelings in admiration for the horsemen who, dismounted, had manifested a courage and valor equal to their own, and who, in the charge and advance upon the enemy at Hartsville, and in standing off the Federal pursuers, had displayed an intrepidity that was not unworthy of any Kentucky Confederates, be they men who walked or men who rode to battle. Whenever Hartsville was recalled or its experiences were freshened in their minds, there was no distrust of the steadfastness of the 3rd, 8th and 11th Kentucky Cavalry, and the gallant 9th Tennessee, and by common consent the 2nd and 9th Kentucky Infantry admitted these regiments which had been with them at Hartsville into the full brotherhood of war’s heroes.

The captured guns and the four pieces brought by Morgan were pounding away on the south bank of the river and hurling shot and shell at the pursuers on the north bank, serving notice on the Federals that thus far and no farther could they come. It never entered the minds of the Federals that the Confederates were so few in number. They could not understand how any commander with the slightest prudence would expose his men to such risk as Morgan had dared. It would have been questionable for even cavalry to have undertaken such a campaign, but to jeopardize two of the best regiments of infantry in the army of Tennessee by marching and fighting so far from their military base, and with such liability to attack on the rear and flank, was inconceivable to the Federals who were pursuing. They concluded that there were at least three times as many in the battle as had captured their comrades at Hartsville. Colonels Harlan and Moore estimated Morgan’s fighting force at five thousand, and Federal officers declared that they had seen several regiments of infantry and cavalry standing across the river awaiting the return of their comrades who had gone over the stream and won victory at Hartsville.

By eleven o’clock the agony was past. The pursuit was ended. Joy and complacency filled the hearts of the infantry as they tramped back to Baird’s Mills. They did not ask to ride any more. The cavalry marched in the rear and stood guard and waited for approaching foes. None came. After crossing the stream, courtesy and generosity prompted kindness to the blue-coated prisoners. There was no word of unkindness spoken.

Along the Confederate lines, they were received with surprise, and wonder staggered credence to believe how few could have accomplished so much or that any men in such rigorous weather could have so quickly covered so great a distance, or against such odds have won so marvelous a victory.

For a little while the Federal commanders were dazed. On December 7th General Rosecrans wired General George H. Thomas as follows: “Do I understand they have captured an entire brigade of our troops without our knowing it, or a good fight?” And at one thirty o’clock the same day there came from the President at Washington the following message: “The President to Major General George H. Thomas: The President demands an explanation of the Hartsville affair. Report in detail exact position, strength and relative distances of your troops between Gallatin and Hartsville, and causes of disaster as far as known to you.”

On December 10th, the rage and indignation became more pronounced, and General Halleck wired from Washington: “The most important of the President’s inquiries has not been answered. What officer or officers are chargeable with the surprise at Hartsville and deserve punishment?” Later General Halleck wired the President: “I respectfully recommend that Colonel Moore, 104th Illinois Volunteers, be dismissed from the service for neglect of duty in not properly preparing for the enemy’s attack on Hartsville, Tennessee.” Afterwards Colonel Moore was allowed to resign on the ground of disability after long imprisonment by the Confederates.

Meagre and exaggerated reports were spread among the Confederates of the number of men that had reduced such a numerous company to prisoners. The whole army with glad cheers along the line greeted the return of the victors. Much was said of the cavalry, but the chiefest and highest meed of praise was awarded to the infantry. In less than thirty-six hours they had marched forty-five miles over trying and difficult roads, had fought a battle, with their associates had captured eighteen hundred prisoners and brought these back across an almost impassable stream in the midst of fierce winter weather.

General Bragg, more or less phlegmatic, was moved to enthusiastic praise. He tendered to General Morgan his thanks and assured him and his troops of his unbounded admiration.

He said: “I take great pleasure in commending the endurance and gallantry of all engaged in this remarkable expedition.” He predicted that such valor and courage had before it higher and yet more magnificent victories, and to appeal still more strongly to the pride of those who had been engaged in this wonderful conflict, he ordered that hereafter, upon the battle flags of all organizations which had taken part in this battle, the name of “Hartsville” should be emblazoned, to remind the world forever of the bravery, endurance, enterprise and courage of those who had there won such great distinction.