CHAPTER V.

MORGAN'S FIRST GREAT RAID.

The struggle for the possession of Corinth was ended. General Halleck, with his immense army of one hundred and twenty-five thousand men, had thought to reduce the place by regular siege, and force General Beauregard to capitulate, surrendering himself with his whole army.

But Beauregard was too able a general to be caught in a trap. For a month he held the Federal army at bay, and then, when Halleck was about to spring his trap, Beauregard silently withdrew, leaving to him but a barren victory.

The Confederate army was saved, and to the Federal forces the occupation of Corinth proved as demoralizing as a defeat. The result showed that John Morgan was right when he said that the hope of the South rested, not on the occupancy of any single place, but on the safety of its armies.

The fall of Corinth at once changed the theatre of war. The Federal army was divided, the Army of the Tennessee, under Grant, remaining in Mississippi and Western Tennessee, and the Army of the Ohio, under Buell, being ordered to march east and capture Chattanooga.

If Buell had acted promptly and swiftly, he might have been successful, and the death-blow would have been given to the Confederacy long before it was. But he moved slowly and haltingly, and the golden opportunity was lost. It gave the Confederacy time to transfer to Chattanooga the larger part of the army which had been at Corinth. The command of this army was given to General Braxton Bragg, a brave man, and by many thought to be one of the ablest generals of the South.

It at once became the dream of General Bragg to gather as large an army as possible, then march northward clear to the Ohio River, sweeping everything before him. This dream came near being realized. It was made possible by the efforts and deeds of two men, General John H. Morgan and General N. B. Forrest. These two great raiders and leaders of cavalry nearly turned the scale in favor of the Confederacy. They raided the rear of the Federal army, tore up railroads, destroyed millions of dollars' worth of property, and captured thousands of prisoners. They ran General Buell nearly distracted, and caused him not to know which way to turn. They made it possible for General Bragg to reach Kentucky unopposed; and if, after reaching Kentucky, General Bragg had proved as able a leader of infantry as Morgan was of cavalry, Buell's army would have been destroyed. While Bragg was organizing his army at Chattanooga, another Confederate army was being organized at Knoxville under General E. Kirby Smith; this army was to invade Kentucky by way of East Tennessee, while General Bragg was to invade by way of Middle Tennessee. Once in Kentucky, the two armies were to unite.

This programme was successfully carried out, and yet the whole movement was a failure, as far as the occupancy of Kentucky was concerned.

After the fall of Corinth, Colonel Morgan rendezvoused his little force at Chattanooga. From Chattanooga he proceeded to Knoxville, where he at once began the preparations for another raid. As Cumberland Gap was held by the Federals, Colonel Morgan decided to cross over into Middle Tennessee before invading Kentucky. His command consisted of about nine hundred men, made up of two regiments and two independent companies. His own regiment was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Basil Duke. All through Morgan's career Colonel Duke was his chief adviser, so much so that many claim that Morgan's success was mainly due to Colonel Duke.

"Why don't some one shoot Basil Duke through the head, and blow out John Morgan's brains?" exclaimed a disgusted Federal officer, after a fruitless effort to catch Morgan.

But the officer was mistaken; both had brains. Like Grant and Sherman they worked hand in hand, and one needed the other. Together they were invincible.

Before leaving Knoxville Morgan picked out twenty-five men, mounted on the best and fleetest horses, and placed them in the command of Calhoun Pennington. They were to be the scouts of the command, and well did they do their duty. More than once did they save Morgan from heavy loss by ascertaining the movements of the enemy.

Morgan left Knoxville July 4th. His route lay directly west over the Cumberland Mountains to Sparta, a distance of one hundred and four miles. This, in spite of the rough roads, he made in three days. Many of the mountaineers of East Tennessee clung to the Union, and much of the way he had to ride through almost as hostile a country as if raiding through the North. The utmost vigilance had to be used, and Calhoun, with his scouts, was kept well in front to see that the road was clear.

On the second day's march there was the crack of a rifle from a mountainside, and one of the scouts tumbled from his horse dead. A little cloud of smoke up the mountain showed from where the shot was fired. With a cry of rage the scouts sent a volley where the little cloud was seen, then springing from their horses, clambered up the mountain to hunt down the murderer; but their search was fruitless.

About a mile beyond where the shooting took place they came to a rough log cabin, surrounded by a few acres of comparatively smooth ground. A small patch of corn and potatoes was growing near the cabin, and an old man with tangled gray hair and beard was hoeing in the field. An old woman sat in the door calmly smoking a corn-cob pipe. Neither seemed to notice the soldiers as they came riding up.

"You, man, come here!" sternly called Calhoun.

The mountaineer deliberately laid down his hoe, and slowly came to where Calhoun was. He seemed to be in no hurry, nor did he appear to be disturbed.

"What is your name?" demanded Calhoun.

"Nichols—Jim Nichols," drawled the man.

"Are you well acquainted around here?" demanded Calhoun.

"Hev lived heah goin' on twenty years," was the answer.

"We have just had a man shot, by one of you skulking mountaineers. Do you know of any one likely to do such a deed? Tell the truth, or it will be the worse for you."

The old man shook his head. "The men be all gone in one army or de other," he answered.

"Are you Union or Confederate?" asked Calhoun.

"The wah is nuthin' to we-uns," he drawled; "we-uns own no niggers."

"That's no answer," fiercely replied Calhoun, "I have a mind to hang you up like a dog. A little stretching of the neck might loosen your tongue."

At the word "hang" a strange look came into the old man's eyes, a look as of mortal hatred, but it was gone in a moment, and the drawling answer came, "We-uns knows nuthin'; thar may be strange men hidin' in the mountin. We-uns don't know."

"Have you a family?"

"A gal."

"Where is she?"

"Done gone over the mountin to see the Jimson gals."

"You have no son?"

At the word "son," again that deadly glint came in the old man's eye. Again it was gone in a moment, and the answer came, "No."

The cabin was searched—the mountaineer and his wife apparently perfectly unconcerned as to what was going on—but nothing suspicious was found, and Calhoun had to confess himself baffled. But after Morgan's column had passed, a tall, lank girl with unkempt hair might have been seen coming down the mountainside, carrying a long rifle in her hand. Swiftly and surely as a deer she leaped from rock to rock, and soon neared the cabin. Carefully concealing her rifle beneath a huge rock, she came slowly up to the door of the cabin, where the old man sat smoking. He looked up at her, inquiringly, but did not say a word.

"We-uns got one, dad," she said, as she passed in. Not another word was spoken, but the old man sat and smoked and watched the sun as it slowly sunk to rest behind the mountain.

If Calhoun had known that Nichol's only son had been hanged the winter before by the Confederate authorities for bridge-burning, and that his sister had sworn revenge, he would not have been at a loss as to who had fired the deadly shot, for every mountain girl can use a rifle.

From Sparta Morgan made a rapid march to Selina, where he forded the Cumberland River. At Selina he learned that there was a Federal force at Tompkinsville, which is just over the line in Kentucky. By a swift advance he hoped to surprise and capture this force. As the command crossed the line from Tennessee into Kentucky, the enthusiasm of the men knew no bounds. They sang "My Old Kentucky Home," and cheered again and again.

Tompkinsville was reached at five o'clock on the morning of the 9th of July. The Federals, under the command of Major Thomas J. Jordan, of the Ninth Pennsylvania Cavalry, though surprised, made a stand, and the battle at once opened. But a few shots from Morgan's mountain howitzers utterly demoralized the Federals, and they fled in confusion.

Major Jordan, after retreating about a mile, succeeded in rallying about seventy-five of his men, and made a stand to cover the retreat of his force. Calhoun, with some fifteen of his scouts far in advance of the main column, charged down on them without hesitating a moment. The Federals, although they outnumbered the scouts five to one, were ridden down, and throwing down their arms they cried for mercy.

In this fight the gallant Colonel Hunt was mortally wounded. He was one of Morgan's best officers, and his loss was deeply mourned.

From Tompkinsville Morgan moved to Glasgow, arriving there at one o'clock in the morning.

The Federal garrison had heard of his approach, and had fled, leaving everything behind them. A large quantity of military stores fell into Morgan's hands, and was destroyed.

Although it was in the middle of the night, the glad news spread through the town, and the citizens were hailing each other with the glad shout, "Morgan has come again! Morgan has come again!" Soon from every house lights were flashing, and every woman was engaged in cooking. When morning came, not only a steaming hot breakfast of the best that the place afforded was set before the men, but three days' cooked rations were given each man.

At Glasgow Morgan gave out that he was again to raid the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. In order to carry out the deception, when he left Glasgow he followed the road which would lead him to strike the railroad in between Woodsonville and Mumfordsville; but when he was within a few miles of the road, he halted his command, and taking only Calhoun and his scouts, he struck the road at a lonely place a short distance from Horse Cove. Here he had his telegraph operator, a sharp young fellow named Ellsworth, attach his private instrument to the telegraph wire, and for two hours Ellsworth, in the midst of a driving storm and standing in water up to his knees, took every message that passed over the wire. It was rare fun to hear the Federal officers telling all their secrets, and revealing the terror they were in over Morgan's raid. After listening to their plans of how they would try to capture him, Morgan had Ellsworth send the following dispatch to the provost marshal at Louisville:



Nashville, Tenn., July 10, 1862.

General Forrest, commanding brigade, attacked Murfreesboro, routing our forces, and is now moving on Nashville. Morgan is reported to be between Scottsville and Gallatin, and will act in concert with Forrest, it is believed. Inform general commanding.

STANLEY MATHEWS, Provost Marshal.



Morgan sent this dispatch to lead the Federal authorities to believe that he was returning from Kentucky. But the strange part of it is that Forrest did on that very day attack and capture Murfreesboro, and of this fact Morgan was entirely ignorant.

Leaving the telegraph and railroad intact, so as to have the Federals remain in ignorance of what he had done and where he was, Morgan rejoined his command and set out for Lebanon, a ride of over forty miles. The place fell, almost without struggle. Dashing in at the head of his scouts, Calhoun took possession of the telegraph office. This was at three o'clock in the morning. Unsuspicious of danger the regular telegraph operator was at home asleep, and Ellsworth was once more installed at the instrument.

It seemed that the day before Colonel Johnson, commanding the place, had telegraphed for reinforcements, saying he feared an attack. The first dispatch that Ellsworth received was:

"What news? Any more skirmishing?"

To which Ellsworth answered: "No, we drove what few cavalry there were away."

The next was: "Has the train arrived yet?"

"No. How many troops on train?" asked Ellsworth.

"About five hundred," was the answer.

This was what Morgan wanted to know, and he at once dispatched a column to intercept the train. But the train scented danger, and backed with all speed toward Louisville.

At Lebanon immense stores fell into Morgan's hands. Two large warehouses filled to overflowing with clothing, rations, and the munitions of war were given to the flames. Five thousand stand of arms were among the trophies; Morgan picked out the best of these to arm his men.

The destruction of Federal property being complete, Morgan started north, going through Springfield and Mackville to Harrodsburg. Here he met with a most enthusiastic reception. Nothing was too good for Morgan's men.

While at Harrodsburg Calhoun greatly wished that Morgan would make a detour and visit Danville, but this Morgan refused to do, as it would take him too far out of his route and give the Federals time to concentrate against him. Thus Calhoun was prevented from entering his native town in triumph.

Morgan had caused the report to be circulated far and near that he had a force of five thousand and that his object was the capture of Frankfort. From Harrodsburg he moved to Midway on the line of the Louisville and Lexington Railroad. The place was about equidistant from Frankfort and Lexington, and from it either place could be equally threatened.

Here he once more took possession of the telegraph office, and Ellsworth was once more busy in sending telegrams. In the names of the different Federal officers Morgan telegraphed right and left, ordering the Federal troops here and there, everywhere but to the right place, and causing the utmost confusion. The poor Federals were at their wits' end; they knew not what to do, or which way to turn. The whole state was in terror. The name of Morgan was on every tongue; his force was magnified fivefold. General Boyle, in command of the Department of Kentucky, was deluged with telegrams imploring assistance. He in turn deluged General Halleck, General Buell, and even President Lincoln. "Send me troops, or Kentucky is lost. John Morgan will have it," he said.

Lincoln telegraphed to Halleck at Corinth: "They are having a stampede in Kentucky. Please look to it."

Buell telegraphed: "I can do nothing. Have no men I can send." Thus Kentucky was left to her fears. Never did a thousand men create a greater panic.

From Midway Colonel Morgan made a strong demonstration toward Frankfort, strengthening the belief that he was to attack that place, but his real object was the capture of Lexington.

Calhoun, with his men, scouted clear up to the outskirts of the place, driving in the Federal outposts; but he learned that the city was garrisoned by at least five times the number of Morgan's men. This fact he reported to his chief, who saw that it would be madness to attempt to capture it. Morgan therefore resolved to swing clear around Lexington, thoroughly breaking the railroad which led from that place to Cincinnati, so he gave orders to start for Paris. But he was unexpectedly delayed for a day at Midway by an unfortunate incident, the capture of Calhoun and one of his men by the Home Guards.



CHAPTER VI.

CAPTURED BY HOME GUARDS.

All through Kentucky during the war there were companies of troops known as Home Guards. They were in reality the militia of the state. They in many instances rendered valuable services, and did much to keep Kentucky in the Union. If it had not been for them, the Federal government would have been obliged to keep twice as many troops in the state as it did. Not being under as strict discipline as the United States troops, they were more dreaded by the Southern element than the regular army.

These Home Guards were very bitter, and lost no opportunity of harassing those who clung to the cause of the South. Now and then there were bands of these Guards that were nothing but bands of guerrillas who lived by plundering, and they were frequently guilty of the most cold-blooded murders. It was by such a band that Calhoun was captured. He had been scouting toward Frankfort to see if the Federals were moving any considerable body of troops from that place to attack Morgan. He found them so frightened that they were not thinking of attacking Morgan; they were bending every nerve to defend the city from an expected attack by him. He was on his way back with the news that there was no danger from the direction of Frankfort, when he was told that a band of Home Guards, that were in fact a set of robbers, had their haunts in the rough, hilly country to the south of him, and he determined to try to effect their capture. After riding several miles, and hearing nothing of them, he ordered a return to Midway.

The day was very hot, and coming to a cross-road, where several trees cast their grateful shade and a little brook ran babbling by, he ordered his men to halt and rest. The shade and the water were very acceptable to both man and beast; dismounting, the men lay sprawling around in the shade. Seeing a house standing on an eminence up the cross-road, Calhoun decided to take one of his soldiers named Nevels, and ride up to it to see if he could learn anything.

"Better let us all go, there is no telling what one may run into in this country," said a sergeant named Graham, who in the absence of Calhoun would be in command of the little company.

"No, Graham," answered Calhoun, "both men and horses are tired, and need the little rest they are getting. I do not think there is any danger. If I see anything suspicious, I will signal to you." With these words Calhoun with his companion rode away.

"There he goes as careless as if there was not an enemy within forty miles," said Graham, looking after them, and shaking his head. "I tell you the Lieutenant will get into trouble some of these days. He is altogether too rash; never thinks of danger."

"Don't worry about the Lieutenant," lazily replied one of the men; "he never gets into a scrape without getting out of it. He is a good one, he is."

The Sergeant did not answer, but stood earnestly gazing after his chief, who by this time was about a quarter of a mile away. Here Calhoun and Nevels descended into a depression, which for a moment would hide them from the watchful eyes of the Sergeant.

As Calhoun entered this depression, he noticed that a thick growth of underbrush came up close to the side of the road, affording a splendid place for concealment. For a moment a feeling as of unseen danger came over him, but nothing suspicious could be seen or heard, and dismissing the thought, he rode forward. Suddenly Calhoun's horse stopped and pricked up his ears.

"What's the matter, Selim? What do you see?" exclaimed Calhoun, as he gently touched him with the spur.

The horse sprang forward, but had gone but a few yards, when as suddenly as if they had arisen out of the ground, a dozen men, with levelled guns, arose by the side of the road, and demanded their surrender. Desperate as the chance was, Calhoun wheeled his horse to flee, when before him stood a dozen more men; his retreat was cut off.

"Surrender, or you are dead men," cried the leader. Calhoun saw they were surrounded by at least twenty-five men, and a most villainous-looking set they were. There was no help for it. To refuse to surrender meant instant death, and Calhoun and Nevels yielded as gracefully as possible.

The Sergeant stood still looking up the road waiting for them to appear, when he caught sight of the head of a man, then of another, and another.

"Boys," he shouted, excitedly, "something is wrong; the Lieutenant is in trouble."

The little squad sprang to their horses, and without thinking of danger, or what force they would meet, rode to the rescue, the Sergeant in the lead. But when they neared the place, they were met with a volley which brought three of the horses down and seriously wounded two of the men.

"Forward!" shouted the Sergeant, staggering to his feet, and holding his wounded arm, from which the blood was streaming.

But another volley brought down two more of the horses, and the Sergeant seeing they were outnumbered more than two to one, ordered a halt, and made preparations to resist a charge, which he thought would surely come. No charge came, and all was silent in front. The Sergeant ordered an advance, but no enemy was found. They had silently decamped and left no trace behind, and had taken Calhoun and Nevels with them.

Crippled as they were, and the Sergeant suffering terribly from his wound, it was decided it would be madness to pursue with their small force. So one of the men on a swift horse was sent to carry the news to Morgan, while the others followed more leisurely.

When the news reached camp, the greatest excitement prevailed, and every man in the command clamored to be sent to the rescue. Colonel Morgan chose Captain Huffman, who, with thirty of his famous Texan rangers, was soon galloping to the scene of the encounter, under the guidance of the courier who had brought the news. On the way they met Calhoun's little squad sorrowfully returning. Not a man but begged to be allowed to go with the rescuing party, but this, on account of the tired condition of their horses, and on account of the two wounded men, had to be refused.

It was well along in the afternoon when the theatre of the encounter was reached. Captain Huffman had with him three or four men who for years had been accustomed to Indian fighting in Texas; these men took up the trail and followed it like bloodhounds. After going three or four miles, the advance ran into two men, who sought safety by running into the woods; but a shot in the leg brought one of them down, and he was captured. At first he denied knowing anything of the affair, saying he had heard nothing of a fight. But when Captain Huffman ordered a rope to be brought and it was placed around his neck, he begged piteously, saying that if they would spare his life he would tell them all he knew. And this is what he told them:

He belonged to a band led by a man known as "Red Bill" from his florid complexion. It was this band that had captured Calhoun and Nevels. It seemed that the officer whom they had captured had known Red Bill in Danville, and taunted him with being a chicken-thief. This so angered Red Bill that he determined to hang the officer. This resulted in a quarrel among the members of the band, many of whom had become tired of the leadership of Red Bill, being fearful that his crimes would bring retribution on their heads. At last it was agreed that the band would disperse, Red Bill, on the promise that he might have the two horses captured, agreeing to deliver the two prisoners to the Federal commander at Frankfort.

"But," added the prisoner, whose name was Evans, "I doubt if they ever reach Frankfort. I reckon Red Bill will find some means of getting rid of them before he gets there."

Captain Huffman listened to this story with horror. "If this miscreant makes way with Lieutenant Pennington and Nevels, I will hunt him to his death, if it takes ten years," he declared. Then turning to Evans, he asked: "Did any of the gang side with Red Bill?"

"Yes, five of them did, and stayed with him," was the answer.

"And you men, at least twenty of you, by your own story, coolly left our men to be foully murdered?" furiously demanded Captain Huffman.

The prisoner hung his head, but did not answer.

"Answer!" thundered Huffman.

"Red Bill promised to take them to Frankfort," he at length managed to say.

"And you have just admitted that his promise was worth nothing. Where did this thing occur? Where did you leave Red Bill and his prisoners?" demanded Huffman.

"About three miles from here," answered Evans.

"Lead us to the place at once."

"I dare not," he whimpered; "Red Bill will kill me if I give away the place of rendezvous. We are under a terrible oath not to reveal it."

"You need not fear Red Bill," answered Captain Huffman, in ominous tones, "for I am going to hang you. Boys, bring the rope."

"Mercy! Mercy!" gasped the shivering wretch.

"Then lead us to the place where you left Red Bill, and that quickly."

"My wound," he whined, pointing to his leg.

"Bind up his leg," said Huffman to one of his men.

The wound was rudely dressed, and then Evans was placed on a horse in front of a sturdy trooper.

"Now take us to the place where you left Red Bill, by the shortest and quickest route; you say it is three miles. If we don't reach it in half an hour, I will hang you like a dog. And," continued Huffman, to the trooper in front of whom Evans was riding, "blow out his brains at the first sign of treachery."

For answer the trooper touched his revolver significantly.

After riding swiftly for about two miles, Evans bade them turn into a path which led into the woods. The way became rough and rocky, and their progress was necessarily slower. Evans was in mortal terror lest the half-hour would be up before they could reach the place.

"It is right down thar," he at length said, pointing down a ravine which led to a stream.

The place was admirably adapted for concealment. On a small level place surrounded by high cliffs stood a tumble-down house. It was shut in from view from every point except the single one on which they stood.

"Leave the horses here," whispered Huffman, "I think I caught sight of some one down there. We will creep up on them unawares."

Leaving the horses in charge of ten men, Captain Huffman, with the rest of his force, silently crept down the gorge.



We will now turn to Calhoun. After he was captured and heard his men cheering as they made the charge, his heart stood still, for he expected they would all be killed. He was, therefore, greatly surprised when the firing ceased, and his captors came running back, and hurried him through the woods at a break-neck speed. The rapid pace was kept up for about three miles, when finding they were not pursued, they adopted a more leisurely gait. Of this Calhoun was glad, for he was entirely out of breath. The leader of the gang, and another, probably the second in command, had appropriated the horses, and Calhoun and Nevels had been forced to walk, or rather run.

Once Calhoun ventured to ask the result of the fight, and was told that all of his men had been killed. This he knew to be a lie, as his captors would not have retreated so hastily if they had achieved so sweeping a victory. He asked another question, but was roughly told to shut up.

When the rendezvous was reached Red Bill for the first time noticed his prisoners closely. He started when he saw Calhoun, and then turning to his gang, said, "I reckon we had better string these fellows up, and get them out of the way."

"String us up," boldly answered Calhoun, "and I would not give a cent for your worthless lives; Morgan would never rest, as long as one of you encumbered the earth."

"Who is afraid of Morgan!" exclaimed Red Bill, with an oath. "He and the rest of you are nuthin' but hoss-thieves an' yo' will all hang one of these days. I know yo', my young rooster, you air the son of that ole Rebil, Judge Pennington of Danville. I hev it in fur him."

"And I know you now," hotly replied Calhoun, forgetting the danger he was in. "You used to live in Danville, and went by the name of Red Bill. Your popularity consisted in the fact that you were known as an adept chicken-thief. My father once sent you to jail for petit larceny."

Bill's face grew still redder. "Yo' lie, yo' dog!" he hissed. "Yo' father did send me to jail, but I war innocent, an' he knowed it. But he thought I war only po' white trash, while he is an aristocrat. I swore to hev my revenge, an' I will hev it. Boys, what do we-uns do with hoss-thieves in ole Kentuck?"

"Hang 'em," exclaimed four or five voices.

"An' we-uns will hang this crowin' bantam. I will learn him to call me a chicken-thief, classin' me with niggers!" exclaimed Red Bill, with fury.

"What will we-uns do with the other feller?" asked one of the men.

"Hang him too. Dead men don't talk."

But some of the gang began to demur over this summary proceeding, saying that the Federal authorities would deal severely with them if it became known they murdered prisoners in cold blood. Not only this, but Morgan had captured hundreds of Home Guards and paroled them. But if they should execute one of his prominent officers, he would show no mercy.

The discussion became so hot, they came nearly fighting among themselves. At last one of them said, "I am tired of the hull business. I am goin' home."

"An' I!" "An' I!" cried a dozen voices.

It was finally agreed that the gang should disband, only five agreeing to remain with Red Bill. Being allowed to keep the plunder and horses they had captured, these men, with Red Bill, promised to deliver Calhoun and Nevels to the Federal authorities at Frankfort, unharmed.

Calhoun and Nevels had watched this quarrel among their captors with the utmost anxiety, knowing that upon the result depended their lives. It was with the deepest concern that they beheld the members of the party depart, leaving them with Red Bill and his five boon companions.

No sooner were they alone than the six, with oaths and jeers, tied their prisoners securely to trees, drawing the cords so closely that they cut into the flesh. Although the pain was terrible, neither Calhoun nor Nevels uttered a moan. After the prisoners were thus securely tied, Red Bill produced a bottle of whisky, and the six commenced drinking, apparently taking no notice of their captives. The whole six were soon fiendishly drunk.

Staggering up to Calhoun, Red Bill growled: "Think we-uns goin' to take you to Frankfort, I reckin'."

"That is what you promised," replied Calhoun, calmly.

"Well, we-uns ain't. We-uns goin' to hang ye!"

Calhoun turned pale, then controlling himself by a powerful effort, he replied: "Do the Home Guards of Kentucky violate every principle of honorable warfare?"

"Damn honorable warfare! Yo-uns called me a chicken-thief; I call you a hoss-thief. Hoss-thieves air hanged. Ha! ha! the son of Judge Pennington strung up fo' stealin' hosses! Won't that sound nice?" and he burst into a devilish laugh, in which he was joined by the others.

Calhoun saw there was no hope. It was hard to die such an ignominious death. "Oh!" he thought, "if I had only been permitted to die amid the flame and smoke of battle. Such a death is glorious; but this——" A great lump arose in his throat, and came near choking him.

Gulping it back, he whispered to Nevels: "Don't show the white feather. Let them see how Morgan's men can die."

The brave fellow nodded; he could not speak. He had a wife and child at home.

They were unbound from the tree, but their arms and limbs were kept tightly pinioned. Ropes were brought and tied around their necks, and the free ends thrown over a limb of the tree.

"Can ye tie a true hangman's knot, Jack?" asked Red of the villain who was adjusting the rope around Calhoun's neck.

"That I can, Red," he answered, with a chuckling laugh. "It's as neat a job as eny sheriff can do."

The sun had just sunk to rest; the gloom of night was settling over the forest. Calhoun saw the shadows thicken among the trees. The darkness of death would soon be upon him.

"String 'em up!" shouted Red.

Just then the solemn hoot of a distant owl was heard. One of the men holding the rope dropped it, and shivered from head to foot.

"Boys," he whispered, "let's don't do it. That's a note of warning. I never knew it to fail."

"Cuss ye fo' a white-livered coward!" yelled Red Bill. "String them up, I tell ye!"

For answer there came the sharp crack of rifles, the rush of armed men, and the infuriated Texans were on them. No mercy was shown; in a moment it was all over.

Quickly the cords which bound Calhoun and Nevels were cut, and the terrible nooses removed from their necks. "Thank God, we were in time!" cried Captain Huffman, wringing Calhoun's hand.

But Calhoun stood as one in a trance. So sudden had been his deliverance, he could not realize it. He had nerved himself to die, and now that he was safe, he felt sick and faint, and would have fallen if he had not been supported. Both he and Nevels soon rallied, and poured out their thanks to the brave men who had come to their rescue.

"We would never have found you," said Huffman, "if we had not run on one of the gang who under the threat of death piloted us here."

"Where is he?" asked Calhoun.

"With the boys up with the horses."

"Let him go," pleaded Calhoun; "but for him I would now have been food for the buzzards."

"To which we will leave these carrion," answered Huffman, pointing to the dead Home Guards. "But we must be going; Morgan is impatient to be on the road."

Great was the rejoicing in Morgan's command when Captain Huffman returned bringing Calhoun and Nevels safe; and much satisfaction was expressed over the fate of their captors. In half an hour after the return of Captain Huffman's command, Morgan's men were en route for Paris.



CHAPTER VII.

CALHOUN TAKES FRED PRISONER.

After leaving Midway, Morgan did not march directly to Paris, but halted at Georgetown, a little city twelve miles north of Lexington. The citizens of Georgetown gave Morgan's command the same joyous welcome which they had received at almost every place visited; for Morgan came to them not as an enemy, but as a liberator.

From Georgetown Morgan resolved to attack Cynthiana, which lies north of Paris, having heard there was a considerable body of Federal troops stationed there. Sending a small force toward Lexington to keep up the fiction of an attack upon that place, Morgan moved with the main body of his force upon Cynthiana.

Here was fought the fiercest battle that Morgan was engaged in during his raid. Cynthiana was held by Colonel John J. Landram of the Eighteenth Kentucky. He had under him about four hundred men, mostly Home Guards and raw recruits. Landram put up a most gallant defence, and the battle raged for an hour and a half with the greatest fury. It was at last decided by a furious charge made by Major Evans at the head of his Texas rangers. The entire force of Colonel Landram was killed, wounded, and taken prisoners. Colonel Morgan lamented the loss of some forty of his bravest men. Calhoun was not in this fight, having been sent with his scouts toward Lexington to watch the movements of the enemy.

From Cynthiana, Morgan moved on Paris, and the place surrendered without a shot being fired. Some twenty-five miles of the Cincinnati and Lexington railroad was now in Morgan's possession, and he proceeded to destroy it as thoroughly as his limited time admitted. But he was being encompassed by his enemies. A large force was moving on him from Frankfort; another from Lexington. Calhoun with his faithful scouts kept him fully informed of these movements.

Just in time to elude General Green Clay Smith's forces from Lexington, he marched for Winchester. His next move was to Richmond. This left all the pursuing forces in the rear. The celerity of Morgan's movements, the marvellous endurance of his men, astonished and confounded his enemies.

At Richmond, Morgan decided to make a stand and give battle to his pursuers; but Calhoun brought word that at least five thousand Federals were closing in on him. To give battle to such a number would have been madness, so he marched for Crab Orchard. On the march Calhoun made a detour toward Danville so as to visit the plantation of his uncle, Colonel Richard Shackelford. He was also in hopes of meeting his cousin Fred. He had heard how Fred had interceded for his father, keeping him from being sent to a Northern prison, and he wished to thank him. He was ashamed of the hatred he had felt toward him, and resolved to make amends for it.

His arrival was a genuine surprise, but to his consternation Fred presented himself in the uniform of a captain of the Federal army. His men clamored to take Fred prisoner, but just as Calhoun had succeeded in quieting them, to his dismay Captain Conway came galloping upon the scene at the head of his company. He had obtained permission from Morgan to scout toward Danville. His real object was to capture Fred, who he knew was at home. Once in his hands, he hoped to convict him as a spy. His plan was frustrated by the bold stand taken by Colonel Shackelford, who delivered Fred as a prisoner to Calhoun with instructions to take him to Morgan. This Calhoun did, and Morgan at once paroled him, although Conway tried his best to have him held as a spy. Morgan not only paroled Fred, but let him return with the horse he had ridden, although many of the men looked on the splendid animal with envious eyes. But Morgan would not hear of their taking a horse which belonged to his old friend, Colonel Shackelford.

"Why didn't you ride that horse of yours?" asked Captain Mathews of Fred, alluding to Fred's famous horse, Prince.

"Afraid you might keep him," laughed Fred; "you are a good judge of a horse, Captain."

"Right you are," responded Mathews; "I am sorry I didn't think of that horse when we were at Richmond. I would have visited you with my friend Conway, and taken the horse. Think I will have to return for him yet."

Fred thought little of what Mathews said, but that very night Mathews dispatched two of his men back in disguise to steal Fred's horse.

From Crab Orchard Morgan marched to Somerset, surprising the place, and capturing a large wagon-train. It was also a depot for army supplies, all of which Morgan gave to the torch. Here he again took possession of the telegraph office, and enlightened the Federals as to his movements.

At Somerset Morgan's raid was practically at an end. There were no Federal troops in front of him; his pursuers were a day behind. After he had completed the destruction of all the United States property in the place, and was ready to leave, he caused the following dispatches to be sent:



Somerset, Ky., July 22, 1862. GEORGE D. PRENTICE, Louisville, Ky.

Good morning, George D. I am quietly watching the complete destruction of all of Uncle Sam's property in this little burg. I regret exceedingly that this is the last that comes under my supervision on this route. I expect in a short time to pay you a visit, and wish to know if you will be at home. All well in Dixie.

JOHN H. MORGAN, Commanding Brigade.



Somerset, Ky., July 22, 1862. GENERAL J. T. BOYLE, Louisville, Ky.

Good morning, Jerry! This telegraph is a great institution. You should destroy it, as it keeps me too well posted. My friend Ellsworth has all of your dispatches since July 10 on file. Do you wish copies?

JOHN H. MORGAN, Commanding Brigade.



Somerset, Ky., July 22, 1862. HON. GEORGE DUNLAP, Washington, D. C.

Just completed my tour through Kentucky. Captured sixteen cities, destroyed millions of dollars of United States property. Passed through your county, but regret not seeing you. We paroled fifteen hundred Federal prisoners. Your old friend,

JOHN H. MORGAN, Commanding Brigade.



The feelings of the above gentlemen as they received these telegrams can better be imagined than described. The one to General Boyle must have cut him to the quick as he read it. To know how completely Morgan had outwitted him was like gall and wormwood to him.

From Somerset Morgan halted his command at Livingston, Tennessee, to take a much-needed rest. Never did men need it more. They had accomplished one of the most astonishing feats in the annals of American warfare. No wonder the name of Morgan struck terror to the hearts of the Federals. Morgan in his report of his raid sums it up as follows:

"I left Knoxville on the 4th day of this month with about nine hundred men, and returned to Livingston on the 28th instant with nearly twelve hundred, having been absent just twenty-four days, during which time I travelled over one thousand miles, captured seventeen towns, destroyed all the government property and arms in them, dispersed about fifteen hundred Home Guards, and paroled nearly twelve hundred regular troops. I lost in killed, wounded, and missing of the number I carried into Kentucky, about ninety."



CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTURE OF GALLATIN.

Morgan's command had not been encamped at Livingston more than two or three days when, to every one's astonishment, a couple of soldiers belonging to Captain Mathews's company came riding into camp, one on Fred Shackelford's famous horse, Prince, and the other on a well-known horse of Colonel Shackelford's, called Blenheim.

Calhoun, hearing the cheering and laughter which greeted the soldiers as they galloped in waving their hats and shouting, ran out of his quarters to see what was occasioning the excitement. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the well-known horse of Fred. Then his heart gave a great jump, for the thought came to him that his cousin had been waylaid and killed. But if so, how did the soldiers come to have Blenheim too? To his relief he soon learned the truth of the story, how from Crab Orchard Captain Mathews had sent back two of his company to capture Prince, and they had returned not only with Prince, but with Blenheim. Mathews was in high spirits as he appropriated Prince. Jumping on his back he galloped him through camp, showing off his fine points, and declaring he could outrun any horse in the brigade. A match was soon arranged, but Prince so easily outstripped every competitor that soon no officer was found who had the hardihood to enter his horse in the lists against him.

Blenheim was awarded to Conway, much to his satisfaction. He could not forego the opportunity of crowing over Calhoun, thinking he would be vexed over the capture of his cousin's horse.

"Why do you come blowing around me?" asked Calhoun, nettled by his manner, "I am neither the keeper of my cousin nor the keeper of his horse."

"Oh, you were so careful of his precious person when I took him prisoner, I did not know but your carefulness might extend to his horse," replied Conway, with a sneer.

Calhoun felt his blood boil, but controlling himself, he replied: "You did not take Captain Shackelford, and I am surprised that you should make such a statement. You forget that I was there before you."

"You would have let the fellow go," snapped Conway.

"Just as Colonel Morgan did, on his parole," answered Calhoun.

"It was your fault that he slipped through my fingers," exclaimed Conway, angrily, "but my time will come. I have swore to see him hanged before this war is over, and I shall."

"Catch your rabbit before you skin him, Captain," replied Calhoun, with provoking coolness; and the laugh was on Conway, who turned away with a muttered oath.

Conway had entertained a secret dislike to Calhoun ever since their first meeting, partly because he had been chosen by Morgan, instead of Conway himself, to go back to Kentucky, and partly on account of his being Fred's cousin. But after the affair at Colonel Shackelford's house, he took little pains to conceal his dislike. Many of the officers of the brigade noticed this, and predicted that sooner or later there would be trouble between the two.

But Calhoun was not through with being bantered over the capture of Prince. Captain Mathews came riding up and with a flourish said: "Ah! Lieutenant, I reckon you have seen this hoss before; what do you think of him?" Now, Mathews was a rough, rollicking fellow, and quite a favorite in the command. He and Calhoun were good friends, and so Calhoun answered pleasantly: "He is the best horse in Kentucky. I know it, for I was once beaten by him in a race. But," continued Calhoun, with a laugh, "my advice is to guard him very carefully, or Captain Shackelford will get him back, sure. That horse has more tricks than you dream of."

"I am not worrying," replied Mathews. "One of your scouts has just had to fork over five dollars to one of my men, on a bet they made at Crab Orchard that I could not get the hoss. Perhaps you would like to bet I can't keep him?"

"Yes, I will go you twenty-five that Captain Shackelford will have his horse back in less than two months," answered Calhoun, dryly.

"Done!" exclaimed the Captain, gleefully, and the stakes were placed in the hands of Captain Huffman. The bet afforded much amusement to the officers, but all of them looked upon it as a very foolish bet on the part of Calhoun.

"That twenty-five is gone," said Huffman to Calhoun, as he pocketed the stakes, "but I am sure of having fifty dollars for at least two months."

"I reckon I shall lose," said Calhoun, "but Mathews had better not let Shackelford get sight of his horse."

"Why?" asked a dozen voices in concert.

"Because that horse is up to more antics than a trick horse in a circus. You will see, if we ever run across my cousin in our raids."

"I don't know what you mean," said one of the officers, "but your cousin will have a fine time getting that horse away from Jim Mathews."

"Wait and see," was Calhoun's answer.

It was not many days before they knew what Calhoun meant. A few days sufficed to rest Morgan's command, and it was not the nature of Morgan to remain long idle. He had to be doing something. It was known that the Confederate armies were about ready to make the long-talked-of forward movement into Kentucky. In fact, General Kirby Smith had already set out from Knoxville to invade Eastern Kentucky, and General Bragg was nearly ready to take the initiative from Chattanooga.

The Federal army in Tennessee was scattered, and owing to the raids of Morgan and Forrest, the men were on short rations. General Buell was at his wits' end. He knew that General Bragg was preparing to advance, but thought he would not attempt the invasion of Kentucky before attacking him. He therefore looked for a great battle somewhere in Middle Tennessee, and concentrated his forces for that event.

Before Bragg moved, Morgan decided to strike another blow at the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, and this time right under the noses of the Federal army. Gallatin is only twenty-six miles from Nashville, and Morgan decided to attempt its capture. In order to spy out the land, Calhoun entered the place as a country lad. He found that it was garrisoned by a Federal force of about four hundred, under the command of Colonel Boone. The discipline was lax. In the daytime no pickets were out, and Calhoun found no difficulty in entering the place. He made himself known to a few of the citizens, and they gave him all the information possible. To them the coming of Morgan meant deliverance from a hateful foe.

It did not take Calhoun long to find out the station of every picket at night. The camp of the Federals was on the fair-ground, half a mile from the city. Colonel Boone was accustomed to sleep at a hotel in the city; in fact, his wife was sick at the hotel. Colonel Boone knew that Morgan was near, and was fearful of an attack. He telegraphed both to Nashville and to General Buell at MacMinnville for reinforcements, but no attention was paid to his demand. Instead, he was ordered to send nearly half of his force away to intercept a drove of beef cattle which it was reported the Confederates were driving down from Kentucky.

That the citizens might not know that his numbers were depleted, Colonel Boone did not send this force away until midnight, thinking no one would see them depart. But sharp eyes were watching. Nothing was going on in Gallatin without Calhoun's knowledge. He lost no time in reporting to Morgan, and the attack came swiftly.

Knowing the location of every picket post, Calhoun was able to effect their capture without the firing of a gun, and Morgan rode into Gallatin without the knowledge of the Federal force, which was only half a mile away. Colonel Boone was captured at the hotel. The first intimation he had that Morgan was in the city was when he was commanded by Calhoun to surrender. A demand was now made on the camp that it should surrender, which it did. Thus without firing a gun Gallatin, with the entire Federal garrison and all the military stores which it contained, was captured.

Losing no time, Morgan ordered the companies of Captain Mathews and Captain Conway, together with Calhoun's scouts, to take the stockade which guarded the tunnel six miles north of town. The attack was successful, the stockade surrendering after a slight resistance. The tunnel was now in the possession of the Confederates.

A long train of cars which had been captured was piled with wood, rails, and other combustibles, set on fire, and run into the tunnel. The sides and roof of the tunnel were supported by heavy woodwork, and the whole tunnel was soon a roaring mass of flame. The wood being burned away the tunnel caved in, and it was months before a train ran through from Louisville to Nashville. Morgan had effectually blocked the road. Highly elated with their success, the command returned to Gallatin, Mathews and Conway riding at the head of the column. To Calhoun was committed the care of the prisoners, and he brought up the rear.

When about half-way to Gallatin, Calhoun heard the report of a single pistol shot in front, then a rapid succession of rifle shots. The head of the column seemed to be thrown into confusion, and the whole command came to a halt.

Fearful that an attack had been made by a Federal force coming from Nashville, Calhoun gave orders to shoot down the first prisoner who attempted to escape, and prepared to resist any attack that might come. But no more firing was heard, and the column began to move again. Soon an officer came riding back and told Calhoun a story that interested him greatly.

Mathews and Conway were riding at the head of the column, when, as it reached a cross-road, a peculiar sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air. Mathews's horse gave a prodigious bound, unseated his rider, and dashed up the cross-road. Conway's horse bolted, and in spite of Conway's efforts, followed.

A boy sprang out of the bushes into the road, and Mathews's horse stopped by his side. He fired at Conway, hitting him in the shoulder. To save himself from being shot again, Conway flung himself from his horse. The boy sprang onto Mathews's horse and rode away at full speed, followed by the other horse. An ineffectual volley was fired at the boy. Captain Mathews's arm was broken by the fall.



"So Captain Mathews has lost his horse?" asked Calhoun, with a faint smile.

"Yes, he will quit blowing now."

"And I have won twenty-five dollars; but I am sorry Mathews had his arm broken."

When Calhoun reached Gallatin, Captain Conway had had his wound dressed, and Mathews's arm was in splints. Conway was in a towering passion. He blamed Calhoun for his ill-luck, saying if it had not been for him, Fred Shackelford would have been hanged as a spy. From this time he did not try to conceal his hatred of Calhoun.

Captain Mathews took his misfortune more philosophically. "It was a blamed sharp trick on the part of young Shackelford!" he exclaimed. Then turning to Captain Huffman, he said: "Give that money to Lieutenant Pennington; he has won it. But I give you all fair warning I shall get that hoss back. My reputation depends upon it. Then to think that I, who prided myself on being one of the best hossmen in Morgan's troop, should be thrown. Bah! it makes me sick," and his face took on a look of disgust.

"I warned you," said Calhoun, "that that horse was up to tricks. When Fred gives that whistle he will unhorse any rider who is on his back. I have seen Fred try it time and time again with his father's nigger boys as riders, and Prince never failed of unhorsing them. When Fred gave that whistle his horse would have gone to him, or died in the attempt."

"I am sorry you didn't let Conway hang him," replied Mathews, gently rubbing his broken arm, "but I will get even with him, see if I don't. I want that hoss worse than ever."

A few days after the capture of Gallatin, a Federal force moved up from Nashville, reoccupied the city, committed many depredations, and began arresting the citizens right and left, accusing them of complicity with Morgan. When Morgan heard of this he at once moved to the relief of the distressed city. Attacking the rear guard of the enemy as it was leaving the place, he not only defeated them, but drove them to within seven miles of Nashville, capturing the force at Pilot Knob, and burning the high railroad trestle at that place. He also captured a train of cars and liberated forty of the citizens of Gallatin who were being taken to Nashville as prisoners. They had been used with the greatest cruelty by their captors.

In this raid Morgan captured nearly two hundred prisoners. Notwithstanding the provocation was great, considering the way the citizens of Gallatin had been used, Morgan treated his prisoners kindly and paroled them.

The Federal authorities, now being thoroughly alarmed, resolved to crush Morgan. To this end a brigade of cavalry was organized at MacMinnville, placed under the command of General R. W. Johnson, and sent against him. Johnson thought that Morgan was at Hartsville, and marched against that place. But when he reached Hartsville and learned that Morgan was at Gallatin, he at once marched to attack him there, confident of easy victory.

Up to this time the Federals had boasted that Morgan would not fight anything like an equal force; that he always attacked isolated posts with overwhelming numbers. They were now to learn something different. Morgan had been kept well posted by Calhoun and his scouts with regard to every movement of Johnson. Although he knew that he was greatly outnumbered, Morgan resolved to give battle and teach the boasting Yankees a lesson.

Early on the morning of August 21 Calhoun came galloping into Gallatin with the information that Johnson was close at hand. To avoid fighting a battle in the city Morgan moved out on the Hartsville pike, meeting the enemy about two miles from Gallatin. The engagement opened at once with fury. Up to that time it was the greatest engagement fought in the West in which cavalry only was engaged.

For a time the Federals fought bravely, and for an hour the issue of the battle was doubtful; then a charge stampeded a portion of the Federal forces. Thoroughly panic-stricken they threw away guns, accoutrements, everything that impeded their progress, thinking only of safety in flight. Plunging into the Cumberland River, they forded it and did not stop running until they reached Nashville.

The remaining Federal force under General Johnson retreated about two miles, and then made a brave stand. But nothing could withstand the fury of Colonel Basil Duke's attack, whose command had the advance. General Johnson and many of his men were taken prisoners, and the remainder were scattered.

In this engagement the Federals lost two hundred men, killed, wounded, and missing. Their general himself was a prisoner. Thus, to their cost, they found that when the occasion demanded it Morgan would fight. Morgan's loss in the battle was only five killed and twenty wounded; but among the latter was the brave Captain Huffman, who had an arm shattered.

Colonel Basil Duke, in this fight, won the highest praise from Morgan for the masterly manner in which he handled his regiment. It was greatly owing to the efforts of Colonel Duke that the victory was won.

In this battle Calhoun bore a conspicuous part. Single-handed he engaged a Federal officer who was trying to rally his men, and forced him to surrender. When he delivered up his sword Calhoun saw to his surprise that it was his old acquaintance, Lieutenant Haines.

"Ah, Lieutenant," said Calhoun, "I am glad to have met you again. When the battle is over I will come and see you."

"Pennington again, as I am alive!" gasped the astonished Lieutenant.

After all was over Calhoun sought him out, and found him sitting dejected and crestfallen among the prisoners.

"Cheer up, Lieutenant," said Calhoun, pleasantly; "we are going to parole you. You will soon be at liberty."

"How often do you want to parole a fellow? This will be the third time," growled Haines. "Curse the luck. I thought we would wipe you off the face of the earth sure this time. We would, too, if it hadn't been for that cowardly regiment which broke."

"An 'if' has stood in between many a man and success," answered Calhoun. "How long ago were you exchanged?"

"About two months," replied Haines, "and here I am in for it again. I expected to win a captaincy to-day. If this is the way it goes, I shall die a lieutenant."

"Oh, you may wear the star of a general yet, who knows? To change the subject, have you met the charming Miss Osborne since your return to the army?"

A change came over the face of Haines—one that transformed his rather handsome features into those of a malignant spirit. Calhoun saw it and wondered. The Lieutenant quickly recovered himself, and answered:

"Yes, but trouble has come upon the family. Mr. Osborne refused to take the oath of allegiance, and as he was looked upon as a dangerous character, he has been sent North as a prisoner."

"To wear his life away in some Northern bastile!" exclaimed Calhoun, in a fury. "Monstrous!"

"That is not all," returned Haines. "By some means the house took fire and burned with all its contents. I did all I could for them—tried to save Mr. Osborne, but could not; but I will not relax my efforts to have him released. I have some powerful friends in the North."

Calhoun thanked him, and went his way. But that look which came over Haines's face, what did it mean? It was months before Calhoun knew.



CHAPTER IX.

THE DUEL.

IN August, 1862, Cumberland Gap, the gateway between Eastern Kentucky and East Tennessee, was held by a Federal force of over ten thousand, commanded by General George W. Morgan. It was this force which confronted General Kirby Smith as he set out to invade Kentucky.

The place being too strong to carry by assault, General Smith left a force in front of the Gap to menace it, made a flank movement with the rest of his army, passed through Roger's Gap unopposed, and without paying any attention to the force at Cumberland Gap, pushed on with all speed for Central Kentucky.

At the same time General Bragg made his long-expected advance from Chattanooga, completely deceiving Buell, who first concentrated his army at Altamont and then at MacMinnville. Bragg marched unopposed up the Sequatchie Valley to Sparta. General George H. Thomas had advised Buell to occupy Sparta, but the advice was rejected. Buell could not, or would not, see that Kentucky was Bragg's objective point. He now believed that Nashville or Murfreesboro was the point of danger, and he concentrated his army at the latter place.

From Sparta General Bragg had marched to Carthage, crossed the Cumberland River, and was well on his way to Kentucky before Buell waked up. Bragg was then three days ahead of him. If Bragg had marched straight for Louisville, there would have been no troops to oppose him until he reached that place, and Louisville would have fallen. But he stopped to take Mumfordsville, and the delay was fatal. It gave Buell the opportunity to overtake him.

When the forward movement began, Colonel John H. Morgan was ordered to Eastern Kentucky to watch the force at Cumberland Gap and prevent it from falling on the rear of the army of General Smith. Smith moved rapidly, and on August 29 fought the battle of Richmond, where a Federal force of seven thousand was almost annihilated, only about eight hundred escaping.

By the movements of Smith and Bragg the Federal force at Cumberland Gap was cut off. For that army the situation was a grave one. In their front was General Stevenson with a force too small to attack, but large enough to keep them from advancing. In their rear were the Confederate armies. They were short of food; starvation stared them in the face. It was either surrender or a retreat through the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.

General George W. Morgan called a council of his officers, and it was decided to evacuate the Gap and attempt the retreat. The Gap was evacuated on the night of the 17th of September. All government property which could not be carried away was given to the flames. The rough mountain road had been mined, and the mines were exploded to prevent Stevenson from following. But as Stevenson's force was infantry, it would be of little avail in following the retreating Federals.

A toilsome march of two hundred and twenty miles over rough mountainous roads lay between the Federals and the Ohio River. To the credit of General G. W. Morgan be it said, he conducted the retreat with consummate skill. It was expected that a Confederate force in Eastern Kentucky under General Humphrey Marshall would try to cut the Federals off; but Marshall never appeared, and it was left to the brigade of John H. Morgan to do what they could to oppose the retreat. One cavalry brigade could not stop the progress of ten thousand well-disciplined troops. Day after day Morgan hung on the Federal flanks and rear, taking advantage of every opening, and making their way a weary one. After a toilsome march of sixteen days, the Federal force, footsore and completely exhausted, reached the Ohio at Greenupsburg on the Ohio River, and was safe.

During these sixteen days, Calhoun was almost continually in the saddle, the foremost to strike, the last to retreat. When the pursuit was ended, his little band of scouts had seventy-five prisoners to their credit.

When Morgan saw that it was useless to follow the retreating army any longer, without taking any rest he turned the head of his column toward Central Kentucky, for he knew he would be needed there.

Calhoun could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the change a few weeks had effected. All Central Kentucky had been swept clear of the Federals. Panic-stricken they had fled back to Louisville and Cincinnati, and were cowering in their trenches. Indiana and Ohio were in an agony of fear. The governors were frantically calling on the people to arise en masse and save their states from invasion.

When the command reached Danville, Calhoun was nearly beside himself with joy. Over the courthouse floated the Stars and Bars of the South. It was the first time Calhoun had ever seen there the flag he loved so well. With a proud hurrah he dashed up to the door of his father's residence; there was no one to molest him or make him afraid. From the house of every friend of the South hung a Confederate flag.

"Redeemed! Kentucky redeemed at last!" shouted Calhoun, as he dismounted.

But he was disappointed in not finding his father at home. The Judge was in Frankfort, helping to form a provisional government for the state. Many of the more sanguine of the Southern element of the state already considered it safe in the Confederacy.

Although his father was not at home, Calhoun received a most joyful welcome. "Bress de chile, if he isn't bac' again," cried Aunt Chloe.

"Yes, Chloe," said Calhoun, as he shook her honest black hand, "and now be sure and get up one of your best dinners, I can eat it in peace this time. And, Chloe, cook enough for a dozen; Colonel Morgan, with his staff, will be here to dine."

But what Morgan's command learned was anything but satisfactory. Kirby Smith had advanced to within six miles of Covington, there halted, and at last fallen back. Bragg, instead of marching direct to Louisville, had turned aside to Bardstown, allowing Buell's army to enter the city of Louisville unopposed. There Buell had been joined by twenty thousand fresh troops. Clothing and refitting his men, he had turned, and was now marching on Bardstown. A great battle might be fought any day. In fact, it was reported that Bragg had already abandoned Bardstown and was marching in the direction of Danville or Harrodsburg.

"I don't like it at all," said Morgan. "Our generals have already let the golden opportunity pass. But there is still hope. With the armies of Bragg and Smith united, they should be strong enough to give battle and crush Buell."

So good was the dinner and so animated the discussion, that it was late in the afternoon when they arose from the table. As they came out Morgan suddenly stopped and said, "Hark!"

Away in the northwest, in the direction of Perryville, the dull heavy booming of cannon was heard. They listened and the dull roar, like distant thunder, was continuous.

"A battle is being fought," they said, in low tones; "May God favor the right!"

At Perryville the forces of Buell and Bragg had met, and were engaged in deadly strife. Until nightfall the heavy dull roar was heard, and then it died away. Which army had been victorious? They could not tell.

After the battle of Perryville, Buell, fully expecting that Bragg would fight a decisive battle for the possession of the state, remained inactive for three days for the purpose of concentrating his army. It was fatal to all his hopes, for Bragg had already decided to leave the state, and he utilized the three days in getting away with his immense trains. He had been grievously disappointed in the hope that his army would be largely recruited, and that at least twenty thousand Kentuckians would flock to his standard. But Kentucky had already been well drained of men, furnishing troops by thousands for both sides.

From one point of view, the invasion of Kentucky by the Confederates had been a magnificent success. A loss of at least twenty thousand had been inflicted on the Federal armies, while the loss of the Confederate army had not been over one-third of that number. In addition to that, the immense stores gathered and taken South were of inestimable value to the army. But in the chagrin and disappointment over Bragg's retreat these things were lost sight of and the Confederate general was most bitterly denounced.

Calhoun went wild when he heard that the state was to be given up without a decisive battle, that all that had been gained was to go for naught; and his feelings were shared by all Morgan's men.

"It won't prevent us from visiting the state once in a while," said Morgan, with a grim smile.

As for Judge Pennington, he was so disgusted that although his whole heart was with the South, he gave up all idea of forming a state government loyal to the Confederacy, and remained quiet during the rest of the war. "The armies will have to settle it," he would say; "we can do nothing here."

One of the first things that Calhoun did after he reached Danville was to see Jennie Freeman and thank her for her timely warning. "It was kind of you, Jennie," he said, "for I know that you hate the cause for which I am fighting."

"My conscience has hurt me awfully ever since," replied Jennie, with a toss of her head; "and then I believe you told me an awful fib."

"Why, how is that, Jennie?" asked Calhoun.

"You worked on my sympathy, and said if you were caught you would be hanged. The Union forces don't hang prisoners. They would only have shut you up, and that is what you deserve."

"But, Jennie, I was in disguise; they would have hanged me as a spy."

"Don't believe it, but I sometimes think half of you Rebels ought to be hanged."

"Oh, Jennie, Jennie! what a bloodthirsty creature you have grown! But where is your father?"

"Thank the Lord, where the old flag yet floats—in Louisville. He will stay there until that rag comes down," and she pointed to the Confederate flag floating over the courthouse.

"Poor girl, never to see her father again," exclaimed Calhoun, in tones of compassion.

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning pale. A sudden fear had come over her; had anything befallen her father?

Calhoun saw her mistake. Laughing, he said, "I only meant that flag would never come down."

"Is that all?" she replied, saucily; "you all will be scurrying south like so many rabbits in less than a week."

"Give us ten days."

"No, not an hour more than a week. And mind, if you get caught, you needn't call on me for help."

"Well, Jennie, don't let's quarrel. Perhaps I can return the favor you did me, by helping you some day."

The opportunity came sooner than he expected. The next day Jennie ventured out to visit a sick friend. On her return she had to pass a couple of Confederate officers, one of whom was intoxicated. The other appeared to be reasoning with him, and trying to get him to go to his quarters.

As Jennie was hurrying past them, the one who was intoxicated staggered toward her, and leering at her, exclaimed, "How—how do, pretty one? Give me a—a kiss!"

Jennie turned to flee, but he caught her roughly by the arm. Just as he did so, he was struck a terrific blow in the face, which sent him rolling in the gutter.

"Take my arm, Jennie," said Calhoun, for it was he who struck the blow, "I will see you safe home."

The trembling girl took his arm, saying: "Oh, Calhoun, how glad I am you came! How can I thank you enough! Do you know that dreadful man?"

"Yes, I am sorry to say he is a captain in Morgan's command. His name is Conway. We left him back in Tennessee wounded. But he was able to follow Bragg's army, and he joined us only yesterday. By the way, it was Fred Shackelford who shot him. He shot him when he got Prince back. Conway was riding Blenheim."

"Oh, Fred told me all about that. Wasn't that just splendid in him, getting his horse back!"

"Where is Fred now?" asked Calhoun.

"I don't know. Did you know General Nelson was shot?"

"Shot? Nelson shot?" cried Calhoun. "Where? How?"

Jennie had to tell him what little she knew about it. All that she had heard had come from Confederate sources.

"Well, Jennie, here you are at home. I feel ashamed. It is the first time I ever knew one of Morgan's men to insult a woman."

"I hope that miserable Conway will give you no trouble," said Jennie, as they parted.

"No fears on that score," lightly replied Calhoun, as he bade her good-bye.

But Calhoun well knew there would be trouble. No Kentucky officer would forgive a blow, no matter what the provocation was under which it was given.

The blow which Conway received had the effect of sobering him, but he presented a pitiable sight. His face was covered with blood, and one eye was nearly closed. When he knew it was Calhoun that had struck him, his rage was fearful. Nothing but blood would wipe out the insult. For a Kentucky gentleman not to resent a blow meant disgrace and dishonor; he would be looked upon as a contemptible coward. But Conway was no coward. He knew he was in fault, but that would not wipe out the disgrace of the blow. There was but one thing for him to do, and that was to challenge Calhoun.

That night Calhoun was waited upon by Captain Mathews, who in the name of Conway demanded an abject apology. This, of course, was refused, and a formal challenge was delivered. Calhoun at once accepted it, and referred Mathews to his friend Lieutenant Matson.

"Look here, Pennington," said Mathews, "I do not want you to think I uphold Conway in what he did. I am no saint, but I never insulted a woman. Conway would not have done it if he had not been drunk. I was just going to the lady's rescue when you struck the blow. There was no need of knocking Conway down. I understand the girl is a Lincolnite, but that makes no difference, Conway is right in demanding satisfaction."

"And I am willing to give it to him," answered Calhoun. "The only thing I ask is that the affair be arranged quickly. Let it be to-morrow morning at sunrise. And, Captain, understand that I bear you no grudge. I consider your action perfectly honorable."

Mathews bowed and withdrew. He and Matson quickly arranged the preliminaries. The meeting was to take place at sunrise, in a secluded spot near Danville; the weapons were pistols, the distance fifteen paces. Only one shot was to be allowed. The affair had to be managed with the utmost secrecy; above all things, it had to be kept from the ears of Morgan. But it was whispered from one to another until half the officers knew of it. None blamed Calhoun, yet none could see how Conway could avoid giving the challenge.

"Both are dead men," said an officer, with a grave shake of the head. "Morgan ought to be told; he would stop it."

"Tell Morgan if you dare!" cried half a dozen voices.

"Oh, I am not going to tell; if they wish to kill each other it's none of my business," replied the officer, turning away.

Calhoun was known as the best pistol shot in the brigade, and Conway was no mean marksman. Everyone thought it would be a bloody affair. Many were aware of the enmity which Conway held toward Calhoun, and knew he would kill him if he could. Meanwhile Jennie slept unconscious of the danger Calhoun was in for her sake.

It was a beautiful autumn morning when they met. The sun was just rising, touching woods, and fields, and the spires of the distant town with its golden light. The meeting was in a place which Calhoun well knew. How often he had played there when a boy! It was an open glade in the midst of a grove of mighty forest trees. The trees had taken on the beautiful hues of autumn, and they flamed with red and gold and orange.

At least twenty had assembled to witness the duel. A surgeon stood near with an open case of instruments at his feet. Many glanced at it, but turned their eyes away quickly. It was too suggestive.

The principals were placed in position. A hush came over the little group of spectators. Even the breeze seemed no longer to whisper lovingly among the trees, but took upon itself the wail of a dirge, and a shower of leaves, red as blood, fell around the contestants.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" asked Mathews.

"Ready!" answered Calhoun.

"Ready!" said Conway.

"One—two—three—fire!"

Conway's pistol blazed, and Calhoun felt a slight twinge of pain. The ball had grazed his left side, near the heart, and drawn a few drops of blood. For a moment Calhoun stood, then coolly raised his pistol and fired in the air.

The spectators raised a shout of applause; but Conway was white with rage. "I demand another shot," he shouted, "Pennington's action has made a farce of this meeting."

"It was the condition that but one shot should be allowed," remonstrated Mathews.

"The condition has not been fulfilled," angrily replied Conway; "I demand another shot."

In the mean time Matson had gone up to Calhoun, and seeing the hole through his clothing, exclaimed. "My God! are you shot, Lieutenant?"

"A mere scratch; it's nothing," answered Calhoun.

An examination showed it to be so, but blood had been drawn. This should have satisfied Conway, but it did not; he still insisted on a second shot. This the seconds were about to refuse absolutely, when Calhoun asked to be heard.

"Although Captain Conway richly deserved the blow I gave him," he said, "yet as a gentleman and an officer I felt he could do no less than challenge me. I have given him the satisfaction he demanded. If he insists on continuing the duel, I shall conclude it is his desire to kill me through personal malice, not on account of his injured honor, which according to the code has been satisfied. This time there will be no firing in the air. Give him the second shot, if he desires it."

"No! No!" cried a dozen voices.

Mathews went up to Conway, and speaking in a low tone, said: "You fool, do you want to be killed? Pennington will kill you as sure as fate, if you insist on the second shot. Now you are out of it honorably."

Conway mumbled something, and Mathews turning around, said: "Gentlemen, my principal acknowledges himself satisfied. It is with pleasure that I compliment both of the principals in this affair. They have conducted themselves like true Kentucky gentlemen, and I trust they will part as such."

"Shake hands, gentlemen, shake hands," cried their friends, crowding around them.

Calhoun gave his freely, but Conway extended his coldly. There was a look in his eye which foreboded future trouble.

Such a meeting could not be kept secret, and it soon came to the ears of Morgan. Both of the principals, as well as the seconds were summoned into his presence. He listened to all the details in silence, and then said:

"It is well that this affair resulted as it did. If either one of the principals had fallen, the other would have been summarily dealt with. Both of you," looking at Conway and Calhoun, "were to blame. Lieutenant Pennington should not have struck the blow: no gentleman will tamely submit to the indignity of a blow. As for you, Captain Conway, I am surprised that you, one of my officers, should insult a lady. If this offence is ever repeated, intoxication will be no plea in its extenuation. Heretofore it has been our proud boast that where Morgan's men are there any lady, be she for North or South, is as safe as in her own home. Let us see that it will always be so."

The men who heard burst into a wild cheer. Each of them was a knight to uphold the honor of woman.

As Captain Conway listened to the reprimand, his red face became redder. His heart was full of anger, but he was diplomat enough to listen with becoming humility. To his fellow-officers his plea was intoxication, and in the stirring times which followed, his offence was forgotten.

Scouts came dashing into the city with the startling intelligence that a large Federal force was advancing on the place. It was not long before a battle was being waged through the streets. Before an overwhelming force of infantry Morgan had to fall back.

Bragg was in full retreat, and to Morgan fell the lot of guarding the rear. As they were falling back from Camp Dick Robinson, Calhoun met a Major Hockoday, who to him was the bearer of sad news. The Major said that that morning his men pursued a Federal scout who had ventured inside their lines. In his effort to escape he had fallen over the cliff of Dick River, and been killed. "And I am sorry to say," added the Major, "that that scout was your cousin, Captain Fred Shackelford."

"Are you sure?" asked Calhoun, in a trembling voice.

"Perfectly sure. I knew him too well to be mistaken. For the sake of his father, I sent word to the overseer of the General's plantation so that the body could be found, and given Christian burial."

"Thank you," replied Calhoun, as he turned away with swimming eyes. All his old love for his cousin had returned. There was little heart in Calhoun for battle that day. It was weeks before he learned that Fred was not dead.



CHAPTER X.

HARTSVILLE.

WHEN Bragg evacuated Kentucky his weary army found rest at Murfreesboro. This little city is thirty-two miles southeast of Nashville, situated on the railroad leading from Nashville to Chattanooga. It had already become famous by the capture of a Federal brigade there in August, by General N. B. Forrest, and was destined to become the theatre of one of the greatest battles of the war.

In the Federal army a great change had taken place. General Buell had been relieved from command, and General W. Rosecrans, the hero of the battle of Corinth, appointed in his place. This general assembled his army at Nashville. Thus the two great armies were only thirty-two miles apart, with their outposts almost touching.

Bragg, believing that it would be impossible for Rosecrans to advance before spring, established his army in winter quarters, and the soldiers looked forward to two or three months of comparative quiet.

Rosecrans's first duty was to reopen the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, which had been so thoroughly destroyed by Morgan. An army of men did the work—a work which took them weeks to accomplish. But it was not in the nature of Morgan to be quiet. Not only he, but his men, fretted in camp life. Its daily routine with its drills did not suit them. Their home was the saddle, and they wanted no other. Therefore Morgan began to look around in search of a weak point in the Federal lines. For this purpose Calhoun and his scouts were kept busy. They seemed to be omnipresent, now here, now there. They would ride in between the Federal posts, learn of the citizens where the enemy were posted, and whether their camps were guarded with vigilance or not. Many a prisoner was picked up, and much valuable information obtained. In this way Morgan soon knew, as well as the Federal commander himself, how his troops were posted, and the number at each post.

Taking everything into consideration, Calhoun reported that Hartsville offered the best opening for an attack. "It is the extreme eastern outpost of the Federals," he said. "The nearest troops to them are at Castalian Springs, nine miles away. The country from here to Hartsville is entirely free of Federal troops, and we can approach the place unobserved. The Cumberland River is low and can be forded. But if you wish, I will go and make a thorough reconnaissance of the place."

"Go, and be back as soon as possible," replied Morgan, "but be careful; do not take too many risks."

With a dozen of his trusty scouts, Calhoun had no trouble in reaching the bank of the Cumberland River opposite Hartsville. Here, concealed in the woods, through his glass he noted the position of every regiment, and drew a map of the camp. But he was not satisfied with this. Under the cover of darkness he crossed the river, determined to learn more. Above all, he wished to learn where the enemy's pickets were posted at night, their exact force, as nearly as possible, and the discipline which they were under. He wanted to do all this without alarming them.

After crossing the river he concluded to call at a commodious farm-house, situated some three miles from Hartsville. He was almost certain of a hearty welcome; there were few disloyal to the South in that section. At first he was taken for a Federal soldier in disguise, and admittance was refused; but once the inmates were convinced that he was one of Morgan's men, the heartiness of his welcome made up for the coldness of his first reception.

The planter was well posted. There was one brigade at Hartsville. Until a few days before, the brigade had been commanded by a Colonel Scott, but he had been relieved by a Colonel Moore. This Moore was the colonel of one of the regiments at Hartsville, and had been in the service but a short time. Most of the troops were raw and inexperienced. Calhoun was glad to hear all this.

In the morning, dressed as a rough country boy, he made a circuit of the entire place. This he did by going on foot, and keeping to the fields and woods. The location of every picket post was carefully noted, and the best way to approach each one. In two or three instances he did not hesitate to approach soldiers who were foraging outside of the lines, and in a whining tone, enter into conversation with them, informing them he was looking for some of his father's pigs.

"Mighty 'fraid sum ov yo-uns Yanks got 'em," he said, with a sigh.

"No doubt, sonny, no doubt," replied a soldier with a hearty laugh. "You see, if a pig comes up and grunts at the flag, we have a right to kill him for the insult offered. Probably your pigs were guilty of this heinous crime, and were sacrificed for the good of the country."

"Do yo-uns mean the Yanks hev 'em?" asked Calhoun.

"Undoubtedly, sonny. What are you going to do about it?"

"Goin' to tell dad," replied Calhoun, as he limped off, for he pretended to be lame.

Calhoun found that the post was picketed much more strongly to the east than the west, for Castalian Springs lay to the west, and the Federals had no idea that an attack would come from that direction. If attacked, the Confederates would try to force the ford, or they would come from the east. For this reason Calhoun decided that Morgan should cross the river in between Hartsville and Castalian Springs, and assault from the west.

There was a ferry two miles below Hartsville where the infantry could cross the river, but the cavalry would have to go to a ford seven miles or within two miles of Castalian Springs. To his surprise, but great gratification, he found neither the ferry nor the ford guarded.

Calhoun recrossed the river in safety, and joining his scouts, whom he had left on the southern side of the river, he lost no time in making his way back to Murfreesboro. Morgan heard his report with evident satisfaction.

"Our only danger," said Calhoun, as he finished his report, "is from the force at Castalian Springs. From what I could learn there are at least five thousand Federals there. To be successful we must surprise the camp at Hartsville, capture the place, and re-cross the river before the force from the Springs can reach us. A hard thing to do, but I believe it can be done."

"So do I," said Morgan; "with General Bragg's consent, I will start at once."

General Bragg not only gave his consent, but owing to the importance of the expedition, added to Morgan's cavalry brigade two regiments of infantry and a battery.

The force marched to within five miles of Hartsville, and halted until night. The night proved very dark, and the way was rough. There was but one small ferry-boat in which to cross the infantry, and it was 5:30 in the morning before the infantry were all across, and in position two miles from Hartsville.

The cavalry had had even a rougher time than the infantry, and one large regiment had not yet reported. But Morgan determined not to wait, for it would soon be light, and they would be discovered. So with thirteen hundred men Morgan moved to capture a Federal brigade of over two thousand, and in a position of their own choosing.

To Calhoun and his scouts was assigned the difficult but important task of capturing the outposts without alarming the camp. The success of the whole movement might depend upon this.

So adroitly did Calhoun manage it, that the surprised pickets were captured without firing a gun. Nor was the Confederate force discovered until they were within four hundred yards of the Federal camp, and advancing in line of battle. It was now getting light, and a negro camp-follower discovered them and gave the alarm.

The Federals having been taken by surprise and most of the officers and men being raw and inexperienced, consternation reigned in the camp. But they formed their lines, and for a few moments put up a brave fight. Then their lines broke. Colonel Moore did not seem to have his brigade well in hand, and each regiment fought more or less independently. In a short time only the One Hundred and Fourth Illinois regiment was left on the site of the camp to continue the battle. Although this regiment had been only three months in the service and had never been in an engagement before, under the command of their brave Lieutenant Colonel, Douglass Hapeman, they did not surrender until they were entirely surrounded and nearly two hundred of their number had been shot down.

Morgan warmly complimented this regiment on its bravery, saying if all the regiments had been like it, the result of the contest would have been doubtful. In one hour and a quarter after the battle opened, all was over. A whole brigade had laid down their arms to the prowess of Morgan.

But now a new danger arose. Calhoun had been sent toward Castalian Springs to watch the enemy in that direction. One of his scouts came dashing in with the intelligence that five thousand Federals were hurrying to the relief of Hartsville. They must be stopped, and time given to get the prisoners and munitions of war across the Cumberland.

Morgan hurried two regiments to where Calhoun and his little band of scouts were resisting the advance of the enemy. The show of strength made halted the Federals, and a precious hour and a half was gained. In this time, by almost superhuman efforts, Morgan had succeeded in crossing the prisoners and his men to the south side of the Cumberland. They were now safe from pursuit.

It was during the fight with the approaching reinforcements that an incident happened which caused Calhoun many hours of uneasiness. During the hottest of the engagement a ball, evidently fired from the rear, grazed his cheek. He thought little of it, supposing some one had fired in his rear, not seeing him. But in a moment a ball passed through his hat. Wheeling suddenly, to his surprise he saw Captain Conway with a smoking revolver in his hand.

"You are shooting carelessly, Captain!" exclaimed Calhoun, angrily, riding up to him.

For a moment the Captain cowered, then recovering himself, he said: "You are mistaken, Lieutenant; it was some one in the rear. The same balls came close to me." Just then the order was given to fall back, and Conway rode hastily away. There was no direct proof, but Calhoun was certain Conway had tried to kill him. More than one man has been disposed of in time of battle by a personal enemy. Many an obnoxious officer has bitten the dust in this manner. Calhoun could only bide his time and watch. But he now firmly believed his life was in more danger from Conway than it was in battle with the Federals.

Hartsville, considering everything, was one of the greatest victories Morgan ever won, as he captured a whole brigade with a vastly inferior force. The Federals lost in killed, wounded, and captured two thousand one hundred men. Of these nearly three hundred were killed and wounded. Morgan's actual force engaged was only thirteen hundred, and of these he lost one hundred and forty, a small loss considering he was the assaulting party.

The capture of Hartsville caused the utmost chagrin in the Federal army, and not only in the army but throughout the North. Even President Lincoln telegraphed asking for full particulars. General Halleck ordered the dishonorable dismissal of Colonel Moore, but the order was never carried into effect. Of his bravery there was no question.

This victory caused the name of Morgan to be more feared than ever. "Morgan is coming!" was a cry which caused fear and trembling in many a Yankee's heart.

President Davis of the Confederate States, shortly after the capture of Hartsville, visited Murfreesboro, and as a reward for his services, presented Morgan with a commission as Brigadier-General in the Confederate army. General Hardie asked that he be made a Major-General. Hardie knew Morgan, and appreciated his worth, but for some reason President Davis refused the request.



CHAPTER XI.

MORGAN'S SECOND GREAT RAID.

General Morgan was allowed but ten days' rest after his return from his great victory at Hartsville. General Rosecrans had finished repairing the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, and trains were running again between the two cities. Reports had been brought to General Bragg that the Federal troops at Nashville were suffering greatly for want of food; that military stores of all kinds were short; and he thought if the road were again broken, Rosecrans would be forced to fall back on account of supplies. Who so willing and able to break it as General Morgan?