But this glowing perspective had in it a gruesome and darkening setting. A brigade of Federal cavalry marched in its van and another in its rear, and to make the work still more repellent, a brigade of infantry marched alongside its huge serpentine body and behind the infantry rode a third brigade of cavalry, all intent upon the safe delivery of this precious cargo to the Federal army, a few miles away, camped beside the Tennessee River.
These Confederates had come out to hunt the tiger, and it was no unreasonable or traitorous thought to fear that the conditions might be reversed and at the end, the tiger might hunt them. What Wheeler had searched for, Wheeler had found. The game was tempting if dangerous to play, and when Wheeler, in the past, had come upon the object of his search, he had never before in all his marches and campaigns let it escape without a fight. There was neither time nor occasion for arguing with fear. True, he was outnumbered two to one, but he had never before counted that too great odds to grapple, and so without even hesitation, he bade his following go in. It was a long space, and many times the Federal guard could not protect at every point—it measured at least twelve miles. Three columns simultaneously broke in upon the slender line. The teamsters, never very brave, terrified by the shout of battle and the din of rifle and pistol shots, sought safety amidst the cargoes of the wagons, or springing from the mules, ensconced themselves in the depth of the surrounding hills and mountains and, from behind stones and trees, watched the struggle for the ownership of the huge train they had believed to be safe from any onslaught. Contact with the foe had been so quick and so unsuspected that neither they nor their soldier friends had opportunity for introspection, to figure out just what was best to be done under the supreme scare that had without warning pressed upon their minds. The Federal guards were not disposed to run away without a fight. They had no time to mass and General Wheeler gave them no opportunity of combining, so as to get the fullest advantage of numbers, and in hammer and tong style both sides went at each other, by gage of battle, to determine who should have the immensely valuable train. The Confederates were a real hungry lot, and their supply of horses greatly limited. They much desired bread and steeds to ride, and the need of something with which to shoot gave vigor to their every movement. Hunger and the possible contingency of walking are a great incentive to a horseman’s fighting qualities, and for two hours the contest went vigorously on. In this case the hungriest were the gamest. They had also before their minds a well-defined fear of languishing in northern prisons, in case they failed to win, and with all this flood of thoughts coursing through their minds, the men in gray fought with a desperation that presaged victory, and after two hours the Federal guards gave up the contest and retreated from the scene of struggle. With a thousand prisoners in the hands of the ragged, hungry, reckless Confederate soldiers, the whole wagon train was at their mercy. The victory won, the savage work of destruction was now at hand. War, always dreadful, was now to witness most distressful scenes. The imagination of countrymen and frightened teamsters magnified the number of wagons composing this immense train. Some said three thousand, some two thousand, but it certainly contained more than one thousand, not counting the sutlers, who, under the protection of this numerous military convoy, were seeking the front to realize large profits from hunger and want which depleted army supplies would pour into their capacious and avaricious coffers.
As General Wheeler had not much more than two men to each wagon to be destroyed, the burning of these became a gigantic task. The story of the engagement would soon be noised about. Swift-riding couriers would carry the details of the disaster and in a short while, Federal reinforcement would be at hand to punish these adventurous and daring horsemen, who in apparent disregard of both prudence and wisdom had journeyed so far from their supports and so recklessly undertaken to operate in the rear of a great army, which had two and a half times as much cavalry as those bold raiders numbered and enough infantry to watch and guard every ford across which they might undertake, in their return to their own army, to reach the south bank of the Tennessee. Needed supplies were quickly pulled from the horseless wagons, rifles and ammunition were seized from prisoners or hunted in the depths of the “Prairie Schooners,” and then the torch began its baneful work. Wagons, mules and mounts for the victorious horsemen were safely corralled. Mules, now as the engines for handling supplies, had become contraband of war. The dumb, helpless creatures were ready to adopt the victors as their masters and, without raising constitutional question of the relation of the States to the Federal government, would patiently take upon themselves the tasks and hunger that the new ownership would demand. They could help the enemy, they meant loss to the Federal treasury, they looked with their innocent and inoffensive eyes into the faces of the powder-grimed captors and seemed in their docility to plead for life and toil beyond the Tennessee River, in the wagon train of the army that had risked so much in the change of their ownership. Selecting the strongest, the largest and best fed for use, the remainder were doomed to death. All things, animate and inanimate, which could help the foe must be destroyed. The supply wagons were all fired, the ammunition wagons were reserved for later action. The smoke of burning timbers, cotton covers and harness sent up a huge signal that betrayed the presence of an adventurous foe and wrote upon the very heavens that fiercest destruction was turned loose. This warning could not be stayed and so, if escape was meditated, quick work must go on. The helpless brutes were led aside, and those which were not to serve the new master were condemned to a speedy death. A rifle ball at close range was driven into the hearts of the beasts, or, held by the bridle, a sharp bowie knife was drawn across their throats. The command withdrew to a safe distance. A few chosen messengers were sent to fire the wagons containing the ammunition. A feeble, flickering flame started as the Confederate destroyers ran to each wagon and touched its inflammable tops and sides, and then, with a speed quickened by the fear of a fierce explosion, the torch bearers fled in haste from the coming dangers, inevitable from a combustible outbreak. General Rosecrans, when the huge column of smoke stood out against the sky, seeming to pierce its very battlements, promptly sent out reinforcements to help the guards who had in their custody treasures of food, more valuable to his armies than a treasury filled with gold. The Confederate horsemen stood these off until eight hours had elapsed from the time of capture. The whole earth seemed to feel the vibration of the millions of cartridges that were exploding with the fierce heat, and the bursting of thousands of shells filled the atmosphere with their hissing tongues of fire and shook the earth with their ceaseless detonations.
Ere the sun, which rose in splendor upon the mighty train, as it wound its way to the relief of its friends and owners, had set behind the mountain height on its western side, the savage work of destruction was accomplished. Its defenders were scattered. Its beauty had vanished, only ashes and carcasses told the story of its greatness and its destruction, and darkness closed in about the weird surroundings, and the fateful events of the day were ended; and Wheeler and his men, happy in victory, well supplied, and with a new crown of laurels, in the stillness of the night rode away in search of other and new adventures and in quest of more glory and increasing fame.
Chapter V
GENERAL JOHN H. MORGAN’S RAID INTO
KENTUCKY, JULY 4-28, 1862
At Huntsville, Alabama, John H. Morgan was born on the 28th of June, 1825. He was descended from Virginia ancestry, his father having moved from Virginia to Alabama in early manhood. His father married a daughter of John W. Hunt, of Lexington, Kentucky, a man of wealth and high standing. The father moved to Kentucky in 1829 and purchased a farm close to Lexington. At that time his son, John H., was four years of age. The young Morgan grew up proud spirited, brave, manly, enjoying and rejoicing in the best things of life. He became a very companionable man. He distributed kindness wherever he went, and none ever came to him in need and went away empty handed. He was extremely generous in his judgment of men and sincere in all his friendships. In military dress, he was among the handsomest of men, six feet tall, weighing about one hundred and eighty-five pounds, erect, handsome, graceful. In uniform he attracted attention wherever he went. He was a lieutenant in a Kentucky cavalry regiment in the Mexican war.
In 1857 John H. Morgan organized a militia company in Lexington called the “Lexington Rifles.” Later, they became a part of the Kentucky State Guard. This company was thoroughly drilled and comprised many of the best young men of the State. Its uniform was handsome and striking.
It was not until near the end of September, 1861, that General Morgan undertook service in the armies of the Confederacy. He would have been earlier in the conflict but for the serious illness of his wife, who died in the summer of 1861. The authorities suspected the loyalty of the State Guard and an order had been issued for its disarmament. This was resented by many of the companies and led a majority of its men of military tastes to take sides with the South. After concealing the guns of the Lexington Rifles, early in the evening of September 21st, General Morgan left Lexington with two-thirds of his company, and passing through Anderson County, camped at Lawrenceburg, twenty-two miles away. John Crepps Wickliffe, later lieutenant colonel of the 9th Kentucky Infantry, also had a company of State Guards, and these resolved to take service in the Confederate army. Wickliffe had captured a few Home Guards in Nelson County, and this put him in conflict with the Federal authorities. He united his men with those of Morgan and together they numbered three hundred. The interference with the Home Guards rendered further stay in Kentucky dangerous. After two days’ hard marching, this force came to Green River, which was then the dividing line between the Federal and Confederate forces, and here the newcomers were enthusiastically welcomed. Captain Wickliffe attached his company to the 9th Kentucky infantry, then being organized by Colonel Hunt. Half of Morgan’s infantry had come out mounted. The remainder managed to find mounts, and there were numerous horsemen scattered around the Confederate camps who quickly took service with Morgan. In order to employ his men and to give them experience and steadiness, he used them as scouts, sometimes, on such expeditions, reaching fifty miles into territory occupied by the Federals. During the winter two other companies came to Morgan, under command of Captain Thomas Allen of Shelbyville and James W. Bowles of Louisville. These made Morgan’s original squadron, which by the daring and genius of its commander quickly won fame and renown.
In 1859 a railroad was completed from Louisville, Kentucky, to Nashville, Tennessee, a distance of one hundred and eighty-six miles. Its chartered name was the Louisville & Nashville Railroad. All the streams in Kentucky run northward into the Ohio River. The Louisville & Nashville passed southwestwardly, and in pulling away from the Ohio, of necessity it ran perpendicular to the course of the streams, all of which entered the Ohio or were tributaries of streams that did. Salt River, Rolling Fork, Green River, Nolin, Barren, Cumberland and numerous smaller streams all traversed the pathway of this railroad. The topography of the country through which the Louisville & Nashville Railroad was constructed naturally demanded many bridges and trestles of great length. Few railroads were ever built that offered better facilities for destruction by cavalry raids.
A man of General Morgan’s boldness, intense activity and prevalent courage could not long remain idle. The enemy in front of him were the people he had come to fight. All who wore blue were his foes. To destroy lines of communication and harass and kill these men was the purpose for which Morgan had enlisted, and he was never idle when he could get permission to assail and punish them.