one of the Rangers stretched out his hand to disarm the major. Supposing
him to be an acquaintance, Major Sterling offered his hand in return,
but was overwhelmed with surprise when informed that he was a prisoner.
Upon examination he was found to be the bearer of important despatches
from General Hooker to his chief of cavalry, General Pleasonton. These
despatches, which developed the contemplated movements of the army and
directed the cooeperation of the cavalry, were placed in General Stuart's
hands by dawn of day. On this and many similar occasions information
furnished by the Rangers proved invaluable to the Confederate generals.
But furnishing information was not the most important service they
rendered. It has been fairly estimated that they detained on guard duty
thirty thousand Federal soldiers, who otherwise might have been employed
at the front. Even then the Federal lines of transportation were
constantly being attacked, with more or less success. It was impossible
to protect them against such reckless activity as the Rangers were
constantly displaying. No matter how vigilant the Federals were, Mosby
was sure to find an opportunity for attacking. Sometimes his success
would lie in the very boldness of the attempt. This was never more
strikingly illustrated than in one of his attacks upon Sheridan's line
of transportation. The Federal arm which had driven General Early up the
valley beyond Winchester was drawing its supplies over the turnpike from
Harper's Ferry. Mosby, taking a command of five companies of cavalry and
two mountain howitzers,--numbering two hundred and fifty men,--passed at
night across the Blue Ridge, and fording the Shenandoah, halted a few
miles below Berryville. Riding out to the turnpike, he discovered in his
immediate front two large trains parked for the night--one going toward
the army loaded, the other returning empty. He determined to capture the
former, composed of one hundred and fifty wagons. At daybreak it
commenced to move, guarded by a brigade of infantry and two hundred and
fifty cavalry. The train and its guard were soon strung along the
turnpike. The cavalry rode on the flank near the center, a company of
infantry marched in front of each tenth wagon, and the remaining force
was distributed between the rear-and advance-guards. It was a bright
summer morning, and just as the sun was rising the Rangers marched
across the open fields and halted about four hundred yards from the
road, and within full view of the moving train. Observing the Federal
cavalry dismounted across the road a quarter of a mile to his left,
Mosby sent two companies of his cavalry and one howitzer, with orders to
take a position immediately opposite them and there await the signal of
attack, which was to be three shots fired from the howitzer left behind.
This detachment did not halt until it was within seventy-five yards of
the moving train. Of course the Federals observed all these manoeuvers,
but were misled by their very boldness; they never imagined but what
this new force was a part of their own army. So when the first shot,
which fell short, was fired from the howitzer, several of their officers
rode to the eminence not more than thirty steps in front of the detached
Confederate squadron, and lifting their glasses to their eyes, prepared
to witness what they supposed to be artillery practice. Just then the
second shell from the howitzer burst in the midst of their cavalry, who,
supposing it had been fired in that direction through mistake, hastily
prepared to move beyond range. Immediately the rebel yell was raised,
and the squadron dashed at the Federals, scattering them in every
direction, and capturing the officers with their glasses still in their
hands. Turning abruptly to the left, the Rangers charged along the road,
riding over company after company of infantry until checked by a volley
from the advance-guard. At the same time another squadron had struck the
turnpike immediately in front of their first position, and turning to
the right, had ridden down everything between them and the rear-guard.
Then, with one howitzer playing upon the advance and the other upon the
rear-guard, the Rangers rapidly collected their prisoners, unhitched the
teams, and burned the wagons. When reinforcements reached the Federals
they deployed their skirmishers and advanced in line of battle, only to
see the Rangers riding over the hills in the distance, taking with them
three hundred prisoners, seven hundred mules and horses, and two hundred
and thirty beef-cattle. But the rejoicing of the Rangers was almost
turned into chagrin when they learned from the Northern papers that one
of the wagons from which they had taken the mules was loaded with an
iron safe containing one million dollars to pay off the army. Upon
reading it, Mosby dropped the paper with a sigh, exclaiming, "There's a
cool million gone after it was fairly earned! What other man could
sustain such losses with so little embarrassment?"
But this failure of the Rangers to secure their "earnings" did not
always attend them. Shortly after that they collected a sufficient
amount of "dues" to enable them to determine upon greenbacks as the
future currency of their Confederacy. It happened in this wise. Taking
with him seventy-five men, Mosby crossed, at an early hour of the night,
in rear of Sheridan's army, and struck the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad
above Harper's Ferry, near Duffield Station. Here they prized up one
side of the track to a height of four feet, placing a secure foundation
under it. Soon the night express came rushing along. The engine upset,
and the train came to a stand without serious injury to the passengers.
Immediately the cars were boarded, and every one in Federal uniform
captured. Among the prisoners were two paymasters, Majors Moore and
Ruggles, who had in a satchel and tin box $168,000, in greenbacks, to
pay off the troops stationed along the road. Securing this rich booty,
the Rangers burned the cars and repassed Sheridan's pickets before the
day had dawned. The money was divided upon reaching their Confederacy,
each man receiving something over two thousand dollars, Mosby taking
nothing.
Only the men who participated in a particular raid were allowed to
share in its spoil. The officer who commanded the expedition always
controlled the distribution. It was seldom there was anything to divide
except horses and their equipments. Those who had distinguished
themselves in the fight were allowed the first choice as a reward for
their gallantry, the shares of the others being divided by lot. This
system, by rewarding individual merit, encouraged a healthy rivalry
among the men, and at the same time removed all inducement to leave the
fight for plunder. Often when a charge was ordered, a genuine horse-race
followed, the swiftest steeds leading the way.
In this manner the men were mounted and equipped without expense to
themselves or the Confederate Government. On the contrary, the army
quartermaster kept an agent in Mosby's Confederacy, to purchase from the
Rangers their surplus stock and arms. His standing price for a horse was
forty dollars in gold. But each Ranger retained two or more of the best
for his own use. In this way they were always splendidly mounted. I once
heard a Federal officer say he was not surprised that Mosby's men rode
such fine horses, as they had both armies to pick from. The cavalry was
armed with pistols alone, of which each man carried at least two. Their
superiority over all other arms for this branch of the service was
frequently demonstrated. It is a weapon that can be used with one hand,
leaving the other to guide the horse. Cavalry is never really efficient
unless trained to rush into close contact with the enemy. To see the
whites of their eyes is not sufficient; they must ride over the foe. In
the rapid charge the carbine is not only useless, but a positive
incumbrance. The saber is comparatively harmless; it serves to frighten
the timid, but rarely ever deals a death-wound. Let two men encounter
each other in the charge, one relying upon his pistol, the other upon
his saber, and the former, though an ordinary marksman, will almost
invariably get the better of his antagonist. The Rangers realized their
advantage in this respect. It encouraged them to rush into close
quarters, where the rapid discharge of their pistols soon told upon the
enemy, no matter how bravely they had withstood the onset. I have seen
the victory decided alone by the superiority of the pistol over the
saber, where the opposing columns had crossed each other in the charge
and, wheeling, had mingled in the fight.
But the Rangers were compelled to discard the carbine and the saber for
other reasons than their inferiority in the hand-to-hand conflict. It
was always their policy to take the enemy by surprise if possible. Their
favorite plan was to wind their way through the Federal pickets during
the night, and make the attack at break of day. The rattling of the
carbine and saber would have made it impossible to execute these
movements with the silence necessary to success. To the uninitiated it
would be surprising to see with what noiseless secrecy these manoeuvers
could be accomplished. Only whispered commands were necessary from the
officers, and the presence of danger insured silence in the ranks. This
silence, which was observed so long as silence was proper, served to
make the charge, with its shout and its cheer, the more terrible to the
foe.
But it must not be imagined the Rangers were always successful. They
were themselves sometimes surprised, sometimes repulsed. Nothing else
could be expected from almost daily encounters in a country abandoned to
the enemy. There were occasions when they were saved from total ruin
only by their knowledge of the country and the swiftness of their
steeds.
A ROMANCE OF MORGAN'S ROUGH-RIDERS
THE RAID, THE CAPTURE, AND THE ESCAPE
I. THE RAID
BY BASIL W. DUKE
In the summer of 1863, when, at Tullahoma, Tennessee, General Bragg's
army was menaced by superior numbers in flank and rear, he determined to
send a body of cavalry into Kentucky, which should operate upon
Rosecrans's communications between Nashville and Louisville, break the
railroads, capture or threaten all the minor depots of supplies,
intercept and defeat all detachments not too strong to be engaged, and
keep the enemy so on the alert in his own rear that he would lose or
neglect his opportunity to embarrass or endanger the march of the army
when its retrograde movement began. He even hoped that a part of the
hostile forces before him might be thus detained long enough to prevent
their participation in the battle which he expected to fight when he
crossed the Tennessee.
The officer whom he selected to accomplish this diversion was General
John H. Morgan, whose division of mounted riflemen was well fitted for
the work in hand. Equal in courage, dash, and discipline to the other
fine cavalry commands which General Bragg had at his disposal, it had
passed a longer apprenticeship in expeditionary service than had any
other. Its rank and file was of that mettle which finds its natural
element in active and audacious enterprise, and was yet thrilled with
the fire of youth; for there were few men in the division over
twenty-five years of age. It was imbued with the spirit of its
commander, and confided in his skill and fortune; no endeavor was deemed
impossible or even hazardous when he led. It was inured to constant,
almost daily, combat with the enemy, of all arms and under every
possible contingency. During its four years of service the 2d Kentucky
Cavalry, of which General Morgan was the first colonel, lost sixty-three
commissioned officers killed and wounded; Company A of that regiment, of
which Morgan was the first captain, losing during the war seventy-five
men killed. It had on its muster-roll, from first to last, nearly two
hundred and fifty men. The history of this company and regiment was
scarcely exceptional in the command.
[Illustration: GENERAL JOHN H. MORGAN.]
Morgan was beyond all men adapted to independent command of this nature.
His energy never flagged, and his invention was always equal to the
emergency. Boldness and caution were united in all that he undertook.
He had a most remarkable aptitude for promptly acquiring a knowledge of
any country in which he was operating; and as he kept it, so to speak,
"in his head," he was enabled easily to extricate himself from
difficulties. The celerity with which he marched, the promptness with
which he attacked or eluded a foe, intensified the confidence of his
followers, and kept his antagonists always in doubt and apprehension.
[Illustration: Map]
In his conference with General Bragg, Morgan differed with his chief
regarding the full effect of a raid that should not be extended beyond
the Ohio. General Bragg desired it to be confined to Kentucky. He gave
Morgan _carte blanche_ to go where he pleased in that State and stay as
long as he pleased; suggesting, among other things, that he capture
Louisville. Morgan urged that while by such a raid he might so divert to
himself the attention of General Henry M. Judah and the cavalry of
Rosecrans that they would not molest General Bragg's retreat, he could
do nothing, in this way, in behalf of the other equally important
feature of the plan--the detention of troops that would otherwise
strengthen Rosecrans in the decisive battle to be fought south of the
Tennessee. He contended, moreover, that a raid into Indiana and Ohio,
the more especially as important political elections were pending there,
would cause troops to be withdrawn from Rosecrans and Burnside for the
protection of those States. But General Bragg refused permission to
cross the Ohio, and instructed Morgan to make the raid as originally
designed.
[Illustration: THE MORGAN RAID.
_JULY 1863._]
Some weeks previous to this conference, by Morgan's direction I had sent
competent men to examine the fords of the upper Ohio. He had even then
contemplated such an expedition. It had long been his conviction that
the Confederacy could maintain the struggle only by transferring
hostilities and waging war, whenever opportunity offered, on Northern
soil. Upon his return from this interview he told me what had been
discussed, and what were General Bragg's instructions. He said that he
meant to disobey them; that the emergency, he believed, justified
disobedience. He was resolved to cross the Ohio River and invade Indiana
and Ohio. His command would probably be captured, he said; but in no
other way could he give substantial aid to the army. General Bragg had
directed Morgan to detail two thousand men for the expedition. From the
two brigades commanded respectively by myself and Colonel Adam R.
Johnson, Morgan selected twenty-four hundred and sixty of the
best-mounted and most effective. He took with him four pieces of
artillery--two 3-inch Parrotts, attached to the First Brigade, and two
12-pounder howitzers, attached to the Second.
I should state that Morgan had thoroughly planned the raid before he
marched from Tennessee. He meant to cross the Cumberland in the vicinity
of Burkesville, and to march directly across Kentucky to the nearest
point at which he could reach the Ohio west of Louisville, so closely
approaching Louisville as to compel belief that he meant to attempt its
capture. Turning to the right after entering Indiana, and marching as
nearly due east as possible, he would reduce to a minimum the distance
necessary to be covered, and yet threaten and alarm the population of
the two States as completely as by penetrating deeply into them; more
so, indeed, for pursuing this line he would reach the immediate vicinity
of Cincinnati and excite fears for the safety of that city. While he
intended to prolong the raid to the uttermost, he proposed to be at no
time far from the Ohio, so that he might avail himself of an opportunity
to recross. On reaching the borders of Pennsylvania, he intended, if
General Lee should be in that State, to make every effort to join him;
failing in that, to make his escape through West Virginia. Information
he had gotten about the fords of the upper Ohio had induced him to
indicate Buffington's Island as the point where he would attempt to
recross that stream. He deemed the passage of the Cumberland one of the
four chief difficulties of the expedition that might prove really
dangerous and insuperable; the other three were the passage of the Ohio,
the circuit around Cincinnati, and the recrossing of the Ohio.
Before noon on the 2d of July my brigade began to cross the Cumberland
at Burkesville and at Scott's Ferry, two miles higher up the stream. The
river, swollen by heavy and long-continued rains, was pouring down a
volume of water which overspread its banks and rushed with a velocity
that seemed to defy any attempt to stem it. Two or three canoes lashed
together and two small flats served to transport the men and the
field-pieces, while the horses were made to swim. Many of them were
swept far down by the boiling flood. This process was necessarily slow,
as well as precarious. Colonel Johnson, whose brigade was crossing at
Turkey Neck Bend, several miles below Burkesville, was scarcely so well
provided with the means of ferriage as myself. About 3 P.M. the enemy
began to threaten both brigades. Had these demonstrations been made
earlier, and vigorously, we could have gotten over the river.
Fortunately by this time we had taken over the 6th Kentucky and 9th
Tennessee of my brigade--aggregating nearly six hundred men--and also
the two pieces of artillery. These regiments were moved beyond
Burkesville and placed in a position which served all the purposes of an
ambuscade. When the enemy approached, one or two volleys caused his
column to recoil in confusion. General Morgan instantly charged it with
Quirk's scouts and some companies of the 9th Tennessee, and not only
prevented it from rallying, but drove it all the way back to Marrowbone,
entering the encampment there with the troops he was pursuing in a
pell-mell dash. He was soon driven back, however, by the enemy's
infantry and artillery.
The effect of this blow was to keep the enemy quiet for the rest of the
day and night. The forces threatening Colonel Johnson were also
withdrawn, and we both accomplished the passage of the river without
further molestation. That night the division marched out on the Columbia
road and encamped about two miles from Burkesville. On the next day
Judah concentrated the three brigades of his cavalry command in that
region, while orders were sent to all the other Federal detachments in
Kentucky to close in upon our line of march.
General Bragg had sent with the expedition a large party of commissaries
of subsistence, who were directed to collect cattle north of the
Cumberland and drive them, guarded by one of our regiments, to
Tullahoma. I have never understood how he expected us to be able, under
the circumstances, to collect the cattle, or the foragers to drive them
out. The commissaries did not attempt to carry out their instructions,
but followed us the entire distance and pulled up in prison. They were
gallant fellows and made no complaint of danger or hardship, seeming
rather to enjoy it.
[Illustration: THE FARMER FROM CALFKILLER CREEK.]
There was one case, however, which excited universal pity. An old farmer
and excellent man, who lived near Sparta, had accompanied us to
Burkesville; that is, he meant to go no farther, and thought we would
not. He wished to procure a barrel of salt, as the supply of that
commodity was exhausted in his part of the country. He readily purchased
the salt, but learned, to his consternation, that the march to
Burkesville was a mere preliminary canter. He was confronted with the
alternative of going on a dangerous raid or of returning alone through a
region swarming with the fierce bushwhackers of "Tinker Dave" Beattie,
who never gave quarter to Confederate soldier or Southern sympathizer.
He knew that if he fell into their hands they would pickle him with his
own salt. So this old man sadly yet wisely resolved to follow the
fortunes of Morgan. He made the grand tour, was hurried along day after
day through battle and ambush, dragged night after night on the
remorseless march, ferried over the broad Ohio under fire of the militia
and gunboats, and lodged at last in a "loathsome dungeon." On one
occasion, in Ohio, when the home guards were peppering us in rather
livelier fashion than usual, he said to Captain C.H. Morgan, with tears
in his voice: "I sw'ar if I wouldn't give all the salt in Kaintucky to
stand once more safe and sound on the banks of Calfkiller Creek."
[Illustration]
Pushing on before dawn of the 3d, we reached Columbia in the afternoon.
The place was occupied by a detachment of Colonel Frank Wolford's
brigade, which was quickly driven out. Encamping that evening some eight
miles from Columbia, we could hear all night the ringing of the axes
near Green River bridge, on the road from Columbia to Campbellsville.
Three or four hundred of the 25th Michigan Infantry were stationed at
the bridge to protect it; but the commander, Colonel Orlando H. Moore,
deliberately quitting the elaborate stockade erected near the
bridge,--in which nine officers out of ten would have remained, but
where we could have shelled him into surrender without losing a man
ourselves,--selected one of the strongest natural positions I ever saw,
and fortified it skilfully although simply. The Green River makes here
an immense horseshoe sweep, with the bridge at the toe of the horseshoe;
and more than a mile south of it was the point where Colonel Moore
elected to make his fight. The river there wound back so nearly upon its
previous course that the peninsula, or "neck," was scarcely a hundred
yards wide. This narrow neck was also very short, the river bending
almost immediately to the west again. At that time it was thickly
covered with trees and undergrowth, and Colonel Moore, felling the
heaviest timber, had constructed a formidable abatis across the
narrowest part of it. Just in front of the abatis there was open ground
for perhaps two hundred yards. South of the open was a deep ravine. The
road ran on the east side of the cleared place, and the banks of the
river were high and precipitous. The center of the open space rose into
a swell, sloping gently away both to the north and south. On the crest
of the swell Moore had thrown up a slight earthwork, which was manned
when we approached. An officer was promptly despatched with a flag to
demand his surrender. Colonel Moore responded that an officer of the
United States ought not to surrender on the Fourth of July, and he must
therefore decline. Captain "Ed" Byrne had planted one of the Parrott
guns about six hundred yards from the earthwork, and on the return of
the bearer of the flag opened fire, probing the work with a round shot.
One man in the trench was killed by this shot, and the others ran back
to the abatis.