History of Morgan's Cavalry

by Basil Wilson Duke

The camps whence the enemy had been driven, attracted especial and admiring attention. There was a profusion of all the necessaries, and many of the luxuries of military life. How we wondered that an army could have ever permitted itself to be driven away from them.

While we were curiously inspecting the second or third encampment, and had gotten closer, than at any time previously, to the scene of the fighting, a slight incident interrupted, for a moment, the pleasure of the investigation. Some of the enemy's shells were bursting over our heads, and as we were practically ignorant of artillery, we were at first puzzled to know what they were. In the general thunder of the fight, no special reports could be heard, to lead to a solution of the particular phenomena. Suddenly a short yell of mingled indignation and amazement, announced that one of the party had some practical information on the subject. He had been struck by a fragment on the shoulder, inflicting a severe gash and bruise. Not knowing how the missile had reached him, he seemed to think himself a very ill-treated man.

Just as Breckinridge's division was going into action, about 12 p.m., we came upon the left of it, where the Kentucky troops were formed. The bullets were beginning to fly thick about us. Simultaneously, the squadron and the regiment nearest to us, struck up the favorite song of the Kentuckians, "Cheer Boys, Cheer"—the effect was animating beyond all description.

About this time our advance was receiving its first serious check. While the right and the left were advancing, the left-center was repulsed before a strong position which the enemy held in force. They were posted upon an eminence, in front of which were thickets and underbrush. Plenty of artillery strongly supported, crowned this eminence, and Hardee's utmost efforts to carry it had been foiled. So furiously played the batteries of the enemy, that nothing could be seen of the position, but sheets of flame and clouds of smoke. When an advance was attempted against it, a shower of minnie balls would be felt. It was finally taken, after the impetus given the line by the arrival of the reserve under Breckinridge, had sent our forces forward on both sides so far, that it was completely flanked. While the advance, at this point, was thus suspended, the squadron happened to approach, and General Hardee sent an aide to know "what cavalry that was?" Upon learning that it was Morgan's, he expressed himself much pleased, and said that he would use it to "take that battery." When informed of this truly gratifying compliment, the men bore themselves with becoming sobriety, and as they formed for the charge, which we were told would be immediately ordered, they indulged in no unseemly or extravagant expressions of joy. Indeed, it is an historical fact, that while we were ready enough to go, we were not so sanguine of the result as General Hardee seemed to be. The General sat on his horse near Schoup's gallant battery which was replying, but ineffectually, to the vicious rain of grape and shell which poured from the hill. He seemed indifferent to the terrible volleys, and only anxious to capture the guns.

The order, we were expecting, was never given us. At the first slackening of the fire from the hill, some of the infantry regiments, which were lying down, dashed forward, but the enemy left the position because he was in danger of being surrounded. Many of the guns were abandoned.

The right was now checked, meeting the fiercest resistance. The left and center bore rapidly forward.

From a passage in General Bragg's report, it would seem that it had been part of the plan to press more strongly upon our right and drive the enemy down the river, "leaving the left open for him to escape." But it was already apparent that he was being hemmed in and forced from all sides, toward Pittsburg Landing.

General Hardee, at this time, ordered Colonel Morgan to take his command to the extreme left, and "charge the first enemy he saw." Colonel Morgan immediately proceeded in the direction indicated as rapidly as his column could gallop. The left of our line was moving so swiftly to the front that, leaving to go some distance by a bridle path in the rear, before turning to overtake it, we did not reach it until nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Just as we approached, we saw, on the extreme left, a body of men dressed in blue uniforms, going through with some strange evolutions. Their dress was much like that of the enemy, but there were troops, evidently Confederate, not far from them that were paying them no attention. Colonel Morgan ordered a platoon of Company A, to dismount and approach them cautiously, to fire into them if satisfied that they were the enemy, and it was his intention to then charge them. We drew very near to them unnoticed. A little man flourishing a portentous saber, was directing their movements with off-hand eloquence. We forbore to fire, because, although we did not understand what he said, we thought from the emphasis of the speaker, his volubility, and the imprecatory sound of the language, that it was French, and that his party were Louisianians. This surmise was correct. They were members of Colonel Mouton's fine regiment, the Eighteenth Louisiana. Their uniform cost them dearly before the fight was over. They were frequently fired into by Confederate regiments, and received, in that way, smart loss. At length they retaliated whenever they received a volley. This caused some complaint, but it is related that the Louisianians gave sound military reasons for their conduct, saying: "We fire at any body, what fire at us—G-d d-m." Shortly after we made this discovery, we saw this regiment and a portion of the Kentucky brigade, charge across a wide field on the extreme left of our line. Here a ravine which had protected our left flank suddenly terminated, and when the line had dashed across this field and had entered the woods beyond, it was entirely uncovered. A strong force of the enemy was formed in the middle of this field (where one of the camps was situated), and the Confederates rushed so closely upon them, that it seemed as if the bayonets must cross, before they gave way. The volume of musketry in this charge was tremendous, and drowned the crash of the artillery. When the Federals turned to retreat they still preserved their array, and went off in perfect order.

They frequently faced about to fire on their pursuers, who poured continuous volleys into them, and thus fighting they disappeared in the woods. Our squadron and the Texian rangers—Eighth Texas—were following behind the infantry, and had been unable to get past them, or (on account of the ravine) to the left of them. Now, however, an opportunity of actively participating in the battle occurred, which we had not expected. As we were pressing across the field, some Federal skirmishers appeared in the edge of the woods upon the left of the field, not more than eighty yards from us. They directed their attention principally to Byrne's battery, which was also crossing the field, and prevented the cannoneers from unlimbering the guns. Colonel Morgan at once ordered the charge, and the squadron dashed at full gallop into the woods. The skirmishers ran back, but as we forced our way in a crowded mass (all line lost) through the thickets, we came suddenly upon the infantry regiment to which these skirmishers belonged. Fortunately for us, this regiment, in scrambling through the brush, had lost the compactness of its formation. We came close upon them before the Federals fired—they delivered one stunning volley, the blaze almost reaching our faces, and the roar rang in our ears like thunder. The next moment we rode right through them—some of the men trying to cut them down with the saber, and making ridiculous failures, others doing real execution with gun and pistol. We lost only three men killed, but they were noble, gallant soldiers—Lieutenant James West and privates Samuel Buckner and James Ghiselin. We lost several others wounded. Twelve of the enemy were killed and a few made prisoners. The affair was over directly, and the Federals retreated. The Texians, as we prepared to charge, asked what we were going to do. "To go in," was the answer, "Then we will go in, too," they shouted, and galloping down the rear of our line, until they reached the right of it, they turned short to the left and charged into the woods. They struck the rest of the brigade to which the regiment we had met belonged, and drove it back for some distance. They were never checked until they reached a high fence, which they could not pass. Their loss was then severe, and many of their riderless horses came galloping over the ground where our wounded lay.

Our infantry had pressed on beyond this point, and there was no Confederate force near except this cavalry. It was impossible to conjecture how strong the enemy was just here, but Colonel Morgan, fearing that he might come in force sufficient to endanger this flank, disposed his command on foot, to make all possible resistance in such an event. Our skirmishers, thrown forward, could not find him, and the receding din of the battle seemed to promise perfect safety against all such dangers. About half-past one or two o'clock, occurred the great calamity which rendered unavailing all of the sacrifices and successes of the day. General Johnson was killed. He had exposed himself with almost culpable recklessness. From the commencement of the fight he had been in the van—cheering the struggling men—adding fresh spirit to the charge—stimulating to new energy the battalions that were checked. His clothing had been torn by balls which were unheeded.