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.