General Forrest, like most soldiers, had special animosities, and one of his was General Cadwallader Colden Washburn. It might be said that they were men of such disposition that they would certainly have instinctive dislike for each other. Both were brave and extremely loyal to the Cause they espoused, and neither saw much of good in those on the opposite side. As they came to face each other in Western Tennessee and Northern Mississippi, many things occurred to increase rather than lessen their antipathies.
General Washburn was born May 14th, 1818, at Livermore, Maine. Beginning life on his father’s farm, he had a brief experience in a country retail store, then as schoolmaster, then emigrated west and studied law. In Milton, Wisconsin, in 1842, he began practice. The law was slow in that section at that period, and he became an agent for settlers desiring to enter public lands. He was in Congress from 1855 to 1861. Refusing re-election, he raised a regiment of cavalry in Wisconsin, and in October, 1861, entered active service. He was associated with Curtis in Arkansas, and was particularly valuable at the Battle of Grand Coteau. In 1862 he was made brigadier general. By November he was advanced to major general. He was prominent in the siege of Vicksburg, became commander of the Department of the Gulf, warred vigorously in Texas, and came to be commandant at Memphis in 1864.
He had been instructed by General Sherman as to the necessity of destroying Forrest. General Washburn organized the expedition under General S. D. Sturgis, which met such tremendous defeat at Bryce’s Cross Roads on June 10th, 1864. He was cognizant of, and accessory before the fact, of Sherman’s offer of promotion to General Mower if he would pursue and kill General Forrest. What is known as the assault of Fort Pillow had particularly aroused feeling on General Washburn’s part. When charged by General Forrest with inciting the negro soldiers in his department to refuse quarter to Forrest’s men, he parried but did not explicitly deny what Forrest stated he had done. Reading between the lines, it is easy to discover that if General Washburn did not suggest or approve this declaration of his colored troops, he was not unwilling for them to go forth with a fixed purpose to kill without exception such of Forrest’s cavalry as by the exigencies and fortunes of war fell into their hands.
The failure of General Forrest under General Lee, at Harrisburg in July, 1864, had rendered General Forrest anxious to avenge his losses, and apparent defeat there; and he resolved to give General Washburn and his troops a real lesson in the uncertainties of war. When A. J. Smith retreated after his victory at Harrisburg, Forrest pursued him with his usual persistence. General Sherman, who did a great deal of telegraphing and seemed to have had an accurate knowledge of the conditions in West Tennessee, on the 16th of June had wired E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War, in regard to General Forrest, “We must destroy him if possible.” On the same day, he telegraphed, “We must make the people of Tennessee and Mississippi feel that although a bold, daring and successful leader, he will bring ruin and misery on any country where he may pass or tarry. If we do not punish Forrest now, the whole effect of our vast conquest will be lost.”
In carrying out these instructions, a large part of the northern portion of Western Tennessee was laid waste, and, like the Shenandoah Valley, was reduced to the condition, over which it was boasted by Generals Grant and Sheridan, that if a crow flew, he must take his rations with him.
General Sherman also said, “I had previously written to General Washburn that he should employ A. J. Smith’s troops and any others that he could reach, to pursue and if possible destroy all of Forrest’s men.” General Sherman seemed to think more of Forrest and his operations than he did of those who were opposing him in his march to Atlanta.
When, at this time, it was proposed to give Forrest command of all the cavalry, operating with Johnston’s army, be it said to the credit of General Joseph Wheeler that he endorsed General Johnston’s recommendation, and thereby showed himself to be a man of the highest patriotism, of transcendent nobility of character, and of almost unparalleled devotion to the Southern Cause. General Wheeler offered to serve under General Forrest in any capacity Forrest might suggest. No one who now studies General Wheeler’s campaigns can doubt that he was one of the greatest soldiers the war produced, and this proposal to serve anywhere in any capacity under General Forrest demonstrated that his manhood and patriotism were of the same standard as his capacity for leadership. Ranking General Forrest, he waived all such considerations and cheerfully proposed to become Forrest’s lieutenant in the contemplated assault on Sherman, and follow where Forrest would lead.
In the assault on General A. J. Smith’s rear, Forrest received a severe and painful wound. He never thought of personal danger and was ever absolutely indifferent to fear. Previous to the Battle of Harrisburg, General Forrest had asked for a furlough and sought to be relieved of his command, but this was denied him by reason of the exigencies of the hour.
Harrisburg was a bitter memory to Forrest. In that battle, three of his brigade commanders were wounded and all the colonels were either killed or wounded. Four miles from Tupelo at Old Town Creek, in pursuing A. J. Smith, Forrest himself was struck by a ball in his right foot. It was reported that Forrest had been killed. This created intense consternation among his own soldiers, and inexpressible joy among his enemies. Forrest felt that in the Battle of Harrisburg his troops had acted with supreme courage, and on that battlefield that they did not have a fair chance. This deeply rankled in his heart. The successes of his previous campaigns had made him believe that with anything like an even show his troopers were invincible, and he dreamed of and sighed for an opportunity to blot out the sad and bitter memories of that dreadful day, when he saw his bravest and best go down in a conflict which was not fought according to his judgment, nor along the lines upon which he was accustomed to operate. After the battle, he issued a statement in which he said, “Future generations will never weary of hanging garlands on their graves.” Who was responsible for Harrisburg has been the source and cause of acute and extended criticisms. Some have said that Forrest on that occasion failed to fight as he always fought before and that he hesitated where hesitation was bound to be fatal.
Forrest was a born leader. He had always done best where he was the head. Subordinate, he was restive, and he could only do his best and accomplish most when he was supreme.
General Washburn had sent these several forces after Forrest, and Forrest resolved to teach General Washburn a lesson he would not soon forget. The wound which General Forrest received at Old Town Creek was one from which he never recovered fully. After this casualty he was compelled to go in a buggy, a plank across the dashboard holding his leg in an elevated position, but his power as a leader lost none of its effect from the fact that he was riding in a dilapidated buggy rather than astride a breathing, moving, chafing war-horse.
On the 20th of July, General S. D. Lee, between whom and General Forrest there was, probably unconscious to both of these patriotic men, some feeling, was transferred to the army under General Hood at Atlanta, and with the departure of Lee came General Richard Taylor, lovingly called by his friends and his soldiers, “Dick” Taylor. He and Forrest were kindred spirits. They looked at war through the same lenses. They were alike brave and aggressive and restless spirits that enjoyed the dangers and excitement of campaigns and battles, and were not averse to strife as strife. They were warriors by nature, and the fury of battle and the storm of conflict had no terrors for their valiant hearts.
General Sherman had told his superiors that if Forrest could be taken care of, he could handle Johnston, and so on the 20th of July, he telegraphed General Halleck as follows: “A. J. Smith has orders to hang on to Forrest and prevent his coming to Tennessee.” It was at this time that rumors came to the Federals of the death of General Forrest. On the 2d of August, 1864, Washburn telegraphed to Sherman: “I have a report that Forrest died some days ago of lockjaw.” This news General Sherman reported to General Grant. It was then that he wired Washburn, “Is Forrest surely dead? If so, tell General Mower I am pledged to him for his promotion, and if ‘Old Abe’ don’t make good my promise, then General Mower can have my place.” (Official Records, Volume 39, Part 2, page 233.)
Though Mower had not killed Forrest, on the 12th of August, 1864, he received his commission as major general, and Sherman said to Stanton: “Please convey to the President my thanks for the commission for General Mower, whose task was to kill Forrest. He only crippled him; he is a young and game officer.”
Early in August Generals Washburn, A. J. Smith, Mower and Grierson, by their joint effort, had concentrated a very large force at Memphis, consisting of ten thousand infantry, four thousand cavalry, three thousand colored troops, and three Minnesota regiments. The infantry of this contingent was moved as far as possible by rail, the cavalry was marched overland, and on the 9th of August had reached the Tallahatchie River between Holly Springs and Oxford, Mississippi. At that time Forrest had five thousand, three hundred and fifty-seven men, but the tremendous mortality among his officers had seriously impaired the efficiency of his force. Pathetically, General Chalmers informed General Forrest, “Both of my brigade commanders are wounded, also a brigade commander of General Buford’s division, and most of the field officers of the command were either killed or wounded in the late engagement.”
This advance looked formidable and sorely taxed the genius of General Forrest to face. He was opposed by nearly three to one. It was important to hold the prairie country of the Mississippi, for it was prolific of supplies. Forrest was given carte blanche by General Maury, who was then in immediate command of the territory to be invaded. Forrest was still unable to ride horseback, but nevertheless he resolved to meet his foes. General Chalmers was ordered to destroy all the bridges on the railroad leading south from Holly Springs. By the 14th of August, General Smith had reached a point nearly to Oxford, Mississippi. The force in front of Forrest was thirteen thousand infantry and four thousand cavalry. With his small force, now inadequately mounted, there was no hope for him successfully in the open to fight this great enemy. By the 18th of August Forrest had sufficiently recovered to take to the saddle. He could only use one foot in the stirrup. The other hung loose. The power of no commander in the war was taxed to a greater tension than Forrest at this moment. He dare not face and fight his foes on the field. No courage, no alignment with the past experiences of the Federal commanders and the caution and care engendered by their numerous failures could avail to halt this great army, now organized and sent out to rout and destroy Forrest. Numbers alone, in the field, could defeat this well-armed, well-disciplined corps, but, alas for Forrest, he did not have and could not get the numbers. With only one to three in the coming expedition, the task to most men would have appeared impossible. Had he taken counsel of fear and even of ordinary prudence, he would sullenly have retired before the advance and have been content with delaying his enemies and inflicting what loss he could by way of unexpected assault and quick reprisal. Strategy, skill, surprise, must now win, if winning were at all possible.
Forrest sat down to unravel the difficulties of the hour. Something must be done outside mere resistance. The hour for that expedient alone was gone. Forrest had something that oftentimes was better than legions. Nature had lavishly bestowed on this untutored soldier a something that could now and then defeat the greatest odds, and out of apparent overwhelming adversity win superbest victory. The thing Forrest had could not be bought. No education could supply it. It could only come as nature’s gift and in this supreme hour it came to the rescue of the Confederate leader. The moment called for a transcendent military genius, and this gift nature had bestowed without stint upon the unlearned but born soldier.
There was no lack among Forrest’s men of courage, and upon any dangerous or difficult expedition which he was to enter, it was not a question as to whether his men could fight, but a question as to whether their beasts could carry them to the point to which their great commander had decided to move. The selection of the best horses was now begun. All the men were good enough, but on the work Forrest had now mapped, a strong, dependable horse was as important as a hard, courageous rider. Each man did his best to put his steed upon his mettle. Every soldier was longing to go. None knew where, save the general, but that was all they asked, to be allowed to follow him. With sad hearts, hundreds of the brave troopers looked on intently while their horses were examined and condemned, and with ill-suppressed grief heard the depressing words, “Fall out.” Danger surely, physical weariness certainly, mayhap death, was ahead, but every soldier was burning to go, and when the sorrow-bringing words came that shut out all but one in three of the corps, a wide disappointment spread abroad in every regiment.
Forrest left Chalmers with four thousand men in front of the enemy. He was ordered to persistently attack and oppose them in every way possible, to delay their march and to assail their flanks and communication. Incessant rains had fallen for some days. The roads were muddy, and the streams were full to the banks. Forrest’s chance in the expedition which he now undertook was dependent upon the secrecy with which it should be consummated. If Smith knew that he was not in front, he and Grierson and Hurlbut would run over the small force commanded by Chalmers and march to Vicksburg. No sooner had the sun gone down on the 18th of August than Forrest left Oxford with his two thousand men, the best mounted that he could cull and select. The word to mount was anxiously awaited. These chosen men had gone with their leader before. It was raining furiously—had been raining almost constantly for forty-eight hours previously. With their soggy clothes hanging about their drenched limbs, they were impatient to try out another conflict, and see what glory had in stock for them in a new encounter. The darkness of night was approaching when, amid the thunder and downpour, these Forrest followers sprang into their saddles, gave rein to their steeds, and with a long drawn-out rebel yell, set forth, defying weather, to once again contest with their foes. Rain, floods, mud had no terror for them where their general and duty pointed the way they must go. Marching all night west and north, when the day dawned, notwithstanding the conditions which faced him, he had swung clear off the route of the Federal Army, and was miles away before any Federal officer or commander dreamed that Forrest was gone. Traveling all day on the 19th and part of the night, on the morning of the 20th he had reached Senatobia. This was a long ride for Forrest and his followers. One raging stream and insecure bridge were crossed, and by courier he told Chalmers that he would soon cross another, and, like Columbus, passing westward with only one command, westward, westward, he was going northward, northward.
Forrest directed Chalmers again to “Hold the enemy and press them so as to engage and hold their attention.” Chalmers was faithful to his trust. He fought all day—all night—all hours, and no whisper came to the Federal commander that Forrest was gone away. The aggressiveness of Forrest’s lieutenant hid the mystery of his departure within the Confederate lines.
General Forrest was too much of a leader not to know that this extraordinary task which he had undertaken could only be accomplished by rapid movement and by concealment of his plans. In the early part of August, in Mississippi, usually copious rains fall. The streams at that season are almost always full. This rendered them far more difficult to bridge and made fording impossible. Forrest could ferry his men and their accoutrements and ammunition and artillery, but the horses must swim. In a pinch he might, by rafting and swimming, get his men over the stream, but water was a deadly foe to powder, and without powder Forrest and his men would ride and swim in vain. This meant delay. Delay meant defeat. But above all, Forrest was a practical man. There was no emergency to which his resourceful mind could not rise. Fortunately for his plans on this occasion, the grapevine life of Mississippi is extremely exuberant. These vines run to the tops of the highest trees, sometimes one hundred and fifty feet. Larger than a man’s arms, they would send out their tendrils to the very top of the highest trees and swinging over some limb would spread out their branches and cover the tree tops. These vines were flexible, almost like ropes, very strong. Forrest undertook, as an engineer, by sending forward his best and most intelligent troopers under brave and energetic commanders, to find those grape vines and use them as cables to span the river. Finding the trees convenient to the banks of the stream, the vines were cut down, twisted around the trees, tied as best they could be, carried across the river, and attached to trees on the other side. A ferry boat was placed in the middle of the stream and anchored. Cypress and other logs were cut into proper lengths, floated into the stream and attached at certain distances to these cables. At Hickahala Creek this novel bridge was first inaugurated. Forrest was kept in close touch with his engineers, who were constructing this strangely fashioned pontoon. Within four or five miles from the stream, all the cabins, houses, barns, stables and gin houses were stripped of the flooring and shedding. Each horseman carried on his shoulder one of these planks. Within an hour the planks were laid, the soldiers dismounted, each man led his horse on the boards and crossed the stream in double file. The cables began to stretch, and by the time all the command had passed over, the planks had become submerged, the water was two feet over the flooring and with difficulty the horses could be led across. Nature seemed at this point to be piling up insuperable obstacles in Forrest’s path. He had truly gone seven miles when another stream, twice as broad and equally as deep stood out with its currents and floods to bid the Southern men stay their march. No long drawn out planning was necessary to figure out some way to outwit the defiance of Cold Water River. If a sixty-foot span could be made of grapevines, why not one of a hundred and twenty feet, and the answer was a sharp command to the pioneers to unsling their axes and build the required structure. One hundred and eighty minutes under the whip and spur of necessity saw the new bridge completed, and the men, houses, cannon and caissons speeding across the apparently unsafe length. The horses were led two abreast, the guns were unlimbered and willing hands and seasoned arms dragged them over to the side where Forrest was pointing the way, it may be to danger, but where glory they believed would crown their army and enterprise with a deserved and splendid success. This circumstance so delayed him that on the night of the 20th he was still at Hernando, Mississippi, twenty-five miles from Memphis. The condition of the roads was almost indescribable. The tramping of the horses made a foot of slush, and the wheels of the ammunition wagons and the cannon caissons cut deep ruts in the roads. The cavalry went at a slow walk, and ten horses were hitched to each piece of artillery. Notwithstanding all of these precautions, half of Forrest’s guns had to be left at Penola. It became apparent that they would not be carried along with sufficient rapidity to justify Forrest in running the risk their movement involved. Still twenty-five miles away from Memphis, Forrest knew he must travel all night. It was a task at which any leader might hesitate, but now hesitation meant disaster, and the lionhearted leader was undertaking amongst the greatest feats he had attempted to perform. Tremendous issues were involved. To save at this period Northern Mississippi Territory and to prevent the junction of General Smith’s forces with those of General Sherman at Vicksburg was vital to the hopes of the Confederate authorities. Rain, storm, mud, floods, deep currents, accelerated by torrents, were the contingencies Forrest must face, but he never had stopped for these things before and through the darkness of the night there was only one command, “Forward,” “Forward,” “Forward.” It was bad enough for those who rode. The beasts who bore the men, weakened by the already grievous burdens laid upon them, were spurred to speedier tramp, but hard as were these pressed with their human loads, the awfullest of the terrors of that terrorful night came to the dumb sufferers who pulled the swaying gun carriages and heavy caissons through the ruts and slush of the ever-lengthening pathway. No cry of mercy could avail for these speechless creations. Slashed with hickory or oak wythes, blood streamed from their mouths from the sawing of their bits to keep them straight in the sunken depths of the muddy way, they passed with indescribable suffering the horrible night. When the limits of physical resistance they reached and no longer left with strength or will to continue the impossible tasks that were being laid upon them, with sullen indifference some of these creatures, ready to die rather than proceed another step, with a determination born of despair, refused to make another effort and bade defiance to their pitiless riders and drivers, who were slashing, jerking and beating in their seemingly mad efforts to urge forward these faithful brutes who had done all they could to help in the effort to save the land of those who, with apparently merciless hearts, called for such terrible strain. Horses have wills as well as men, and defying their owners, some stood still in their tracks and no cruel blows could bring them to move a muscle or pull an ounce. The great crisis was ahead. If the one horse would go down another would be harnessed, and if the led horses had all been used, then a luckless trooper with a strong or powerful mount was bade strip his steed, stow his equipment on a gun carriage or caisson, and take his chances farther on to win from his enemies a something to ride, which the exigencies of the hour had taken away from him. The new team took up the burdens their predecessors had laid down, and the sullen horse was led out into the woods, or now and then, fearing that he might prove of value to the enemy, a shot was fired into his heart to end his sufferings or to destroy that which by some possibility might some day aid those who were fighting the cause for which he had met so violent a death.
Forrest had intended to strike Memphis on Sunday morning. One-fourth of all of his horses had broken down under the tremendous strain to which they had been subjected. There were no horses left in the country, the Federals and the Confederates had taken them all, and the dismounted men, dejected, sad and disappointed, were compelled on foot to retrace their steps along the paths which they had come.
There were three generals in Memphis that Forrest particularly desired to capture, Generals C. C. Washburn, Stephen A. Hurlbut and R. P. Buckland. They were scattered over different parts of the city. By three o’clock General Forrest had reached the limits of the city, called his troops around him, and gave to each commander accurate and definite instructions as to what would be done. Scout after scout returned to bring the details of the Federal positions, and even citizens, to whom had been secretly and silently conveyed the news of the coming, slipped by the Federal sentinels to tell Forrest all he needed to know of his enemies’ whereabouts, in order to make surprise and capture sure. Above all, it was earnestly impressed on the squads who rode into the city that there was to be no shouting, no cheering, no battle cry, and that not a gun must be fired under any circumstances. The leaders were told that if they met any Federal troops they were to ignore them, to be extremely careful, bring on no battle and engage in no fighting, but to rush forward over all that opposed.
Forrest’s brother, William H., had often rendered most valiant and efficient service to his brother. He had selected with great care forty scouts. These were as reckless and as brave as their captain. They were to advance, capture the pickets, and without waiting for the balance of the men to ride at full speed to the Gayoso hotel, surround it and prevent the escape of General Hurlbut. Forrest had learned accurately the position of the Illinois infantry. They were stationed at a place close to the road along which Forrest must pass.
Colonel Longwood was to follow Captain William Forrest. Upon reaching a prominent place in the city, he was to station a portion of his troops as a reserve, and the balance were to proceed to the wharf and capture any transports that might be there. To his younger brother, Colonel Jesse Forrest, General Forrest assigned one of the most important and difficult things to be accomplished. He was allowed to choose his own associates. The service would be furious, fierce, reckless, dangerous. He was to ride straight to the house of General Washburn on Union Street, which had been located carefully by General Forrest, who knew Memphis as well as he knew his plantation, and Jesse Forrest was to effect the capture of General C. C. Washburn. It makes one tremble almost half a century after this occurrence to realize the sensation of these men, however brave, as they engaged in this wonderful enterprise. Forrest decided with Colonel T. H. Bell and detachments of Newsom’s, Russell’s and Barteau’s regiments, and the two pieces of artillery under Lieutenant Sale, to remain in the suburbs, believing that it would be necessary for these brave and adventuresome spirits who had gone to the city on this reckless mission to have support and backing when they returned. Forrest felt that it was hardly possible for all of the three parties he had sent into the city to successfully accomplish their respective missions and then come out without much loss or possible defeat. He hoped that the boldness of his movements and the recklessness of the execution would terrorize and paralyze his foes, but even he doubted if all could emerge without some failure.
The day was just beginning to break when the detachments all moved forward. The morning was foggy and a pall of darkness hung over the scene of operations. Captain William Forrest, with ten men well in advance, rode along the line designated for his approach, and, challenged by the Federal sentry, replied that he was a detachment of a Missouri regiment with rebel prisoners. He was ordered to dismount, but instead he rode up to the sentinel, who suspected nothing when Captain Forrest had cried out, “All right,” and supposed that he had dismounted. As soon as Captain Forrest could discern the form of the picket, sticking his spurs into his horse’s flanks, he caused him to spring forward, and then using his pistol as a bludgeon, he knocked the Federal trooper unconscious to the ground. Forrest directed his companions to follow him instantly, and charged upon the reserve pickets, but one of these was enabled to fire his gun before they were surrounded, and this one shot saved the Federals great loss and deprived the expedition of some of its results.
There was nothing now left but to ride recklessly and rapidly into the heart of the city. The Rubicon was crossed. The die was cast. The thrill and enthusiasm of the dangerous work in which they were engaged so stirred the hearts of the men that they forgot their orders and instead of obeying the directions of their commander as to complete silence, they began vociferously to give the rebel yell.
Near the Gayoso hotel, Captain Forrest came suddenly upon a Federal battery of six pieces. This he charged, and the artillerists, driven from their guns, sough refuge in buildings in proximity to the battery. The Confederates were in such a hurry that they failed to have done what would have afterwards been a very valuable thing—spike the guns.
It did not take Captain William Forrest long to reach the Gayoso hotel. He rode into the corridor, and his men were placed around the building so as to prevent the escape of General Hurlbut. Fortunately for General Hurlbut, that night he slept out and when Colonel Chalmers battered upon the door, it was opened by a beautiful young woman who pleaded for protection, but alas Hurlbut was gone.
Colonel Jesse Forrest rode with great celerity, but the unfortunate discharge of the gun of the picket had given warning, and a Federal cavalryman of the 6th Illinois regiment rode swiftly up to General Washburn’s house, beat upon the door with his sabre, and cried out that Forrest’s cavalry were in possession of the town and were in sight of the house, moving for Washburn’s capture. General Washburn did not even take time to dress, but fled away in his night clothes through the alleys from the back door, across the garden, and running half a mile found safety in the fort. A Federal lieutenant, W. H. Thurston, in his official report, said, “The general ran away for a safe place in the fort, which was fully a half mile from his home, when he was but three squares away from the provost marshal’s office; and all this without giving any orders or commands as to what should be done by the troops.” All that Colonel Forrest got of the general’s belongings was a uniform and some personal effects, which he brought to his brother, the general, and which the next day were returned with Forrest’s compliments under a flag of truce. That war is not without its courtesies is shown by the fact that two or three weeks later, General Washburn returned these compliments by sending to General Forrest a full, complete, handsome uniform of a Confederate major general.
The detachments which had been assigned to the capture of General Buckland also arrived too late. The unfortunate enthusiastic yells of the Confederates, and an occasional shot from rifles, alarmed the sentinel who watched Buckland’s house, and the general, hastily and negligently dressed, sought safety at some other point.
Memphis at this time was garrisoned by about five thousand men, combining a mingling of cavalry, infantry and artillery. There was little left to do but to search in the stables and get all the horses and capture all the prisoners possible. The detachments which had been scattered in the city now found it wise and prudent to retreat. The battery which they had captured was again manned and turned loose upon them. Without questioning whether it was wise or unwise, the Confederates rode at the gunners and dispersed them, killing or wounding twenty of their number, and thus were enabled to avoid further trouble from this quarter. As there were no horses convenient, they could not carry the pieces away. By this time they were glad enough to get away themselves. Only when they came to retire did they realize the hazard and peril of the enterprise in which they had taken part. Its audacity appalled the participants when they fully took in the extent of the dangers through which they had passed and of the all nigh incalculable risks they had assumed.
General Forrest was now ready to retire. He felt sure his mission had been accomplished. Smith in Mississippi did not want Forrest in Memphis, one hundred miles in his rear. Sherman or no Sherman, the capture of Memphis would be an immeasurable calamity. No commander could safely forecast what Forrest would or could do. Rains, floods, mud-filled roads, seemed no barrier to this wonderful man of war, and to leave him alone in West Tennessee with two thousand daring followers filled the minds of the Federal commander with apprehension and his heart with dread. Twice he had an engagement to make a junction with Sherman’s forces at Meridian, but when he made that agreement, he had not dreamed that Forrest would turn on Memphis, force the commanders there to flee in their night clothes into the forts, and his horsemen ride through its streets capturing, killing and destroying all that came in their paths from daybreak until nine in the morning.
In the depths of their souls they cried out against the conditions that made them face the ubiquitous and impossible Confederate leader. No man’s reputation was safe who was sent against this redoubtable chief. He came when he was not expected, he fought against any sort of odds. Nature could pile up against him no obstacles that could thwart his will, and to them he went and came as he planned, and no human foresight could avail against his strategy or his onslaughts.
It was a humiliating thing for General Smith to do, but he was stirred by this strange happening. If he went on, Forrest might undo all a year’s planning and garrisoning had done and West Tennessee again become Confederate territory. If he went back along the line he had come, he must march on roads, the very sight of which made cavalry wish they had never come to war. The Federal commander debated earnestly and long. He talked with his associates and then resolved to turn his face northward, forego the meeting at Meridian and save what Forrest had left in his trail to Memphis.
When Forrest learned definitely what General Smith had determined to do, he rejoiced with exceeding great joy. He felt that his work was not in vain. He had not destroyed the army that was capable of inflicting immeasurable injury upon his country, but he had caused it to withdraw and stayed for a while the impending blow which, had it fallen, would have brought down with it all hopes of maintaining any great Confederate force between Atlanta and the Mississippi River. The consciousness of having delayed the inevitable, if only for a few weeks or months, was a source of profound satisfaction to the man who in the past summer had done more constant, difficult fighting than any officer who wore the gray.
As they marched away, a portion of the 6th Illinois Cavalry under Colonel Starr viciously assaulted the Confederate rearguard. As Forrest was always at the post of danger, he was on hand there. They were so close together that in the charge Colonel Starr and General Forrest engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter, and the Federal commander was seriously wounded and rendered unfit for further battle. A short distance away from Memphis, General Forrest sent back a flag of truce, proposing the exchange of prisoners and telling General Washburn that a number of his officers had been captured and were without clothing, and informed General Washburn that he would wait at Nonoonah Creek for a reply. When General Forrest arrived there he found a note from General Washburn, stating that he had no authority to exchange prisoners, but that he would be very glad if General Forrest would allow his officers to have the clothing which he sent with his note. General Forrest was ready to be humane. The half-clad, bare-footed soldiers touched his sympathies. He had no reason to love General Washburn and those he commanded, but he had such profound satisfaction in the work of the night in Memphis that it softened his animosities and he cheerfully did all that he could to mitigate the woes of his unfortunate and dejected captives, who, now six hundred in number, were encountering woes and hardships that touched the hearts of even the foes, some of whom had urged negro soldiers to give no quarter to Forrest’s men. Those least able to travel were paroled and turned loose, while the stronger and best clad were kept for yet another day of marching. It was during this march that General Forrest skillfully and craftily managed to get some supplies for his nearly famished men. In Memphis, the work was too fierce for food contemplation, and when some miles from the city, hunger began to assert its claims with no provisions to meet its outcry, General Forrest then despatched a flag of truce to say to General Washburn that if he would not accept Confederate parole, he would at least feed those he was forcing him to carry away as prisoners on a trying and debilitating march. Two wagon loads of supplies were sent by the Federal commander in response to this appeal, and it pleased General Forrest greatly to see that after giving his prisoners all the rations they could consume or carry, there was enough to shut out hunger in his command for at least thirty-six hours.
Here, eager marching was the order of the day. There was nothing now between Forrest and Smith. He had a wide country in which to operate. The streams were full and the roads were bad, but these same difficulties would face his enemies.
There was no telegraphic communication; Chalmers was anxiously waiting news from Forrest and so, to relieve his anxiety and distress, at Hernando he despatched a courier with a message stating, “I attacked Memphis at four o’clock this morning, driving the enemy to his fortifications. We killed and captured four hundred, taking their entire camp, with about three hundred horses and mules. Washburn and staff escaped in the darkness of the early morning, Washburn leaving his clothes behind.”
The prisoners were cumbersome. Prisoners are not a good asset on a trip like this, and so Forrest paroled them and proceeded on his march to Panola, where he arrived on the 22d of August.
Forrest was not altogether without some apprehension as to what his enemy might do in case they heard that Forrest had gone, and so from Panola he sent the swiftest courier he could find with the following message to Chalmers: “If the enemy is falling back, pursue them hard. Send Buford to capture their foraging parties. Keep close to their camp. Order Captain Henderson to scout well to their right to ascertain if there is any movement this way.” Forrest told him in addition that he would rest for two or three days at Grenada, if possible.
By the 23d of August General Smith had paused in his advance into Mississippi. Smith had turned around. The strategy and genius of Forrest was too much for him and so he retreated north from Mississippi and left Forrest a clear way to his friends and comrades. Forrest was able to telegraph to General Maury on the 29th: “Enemy left Holly Springs at two o’clock yesterday, marching rapidly in the direction of Memphis and La Grange. They say they are ordered to reinforce Sherman.”