Morgan had intended to remain for some time at Richmond and recruit as large a number of new soldiers as possible, but Smith was behind him, other detachments were converging toward his path, and the Federal colonel, Frank Woodford, was collecting forces to intercept his march southward and troops were being rushed by rail to Lebanon. Notwithstanding all this, General Morgan exhibited neither fear nor haste. He preserved the dignities of a complacent withdrawal from scenes, though full of danger, not yet so imminent as to make him rush away as if not willing, if necessary, to try out the wage of battle. A few hours’ rest at Crab Orchard and at eleven o’clock the march was commenced to Somerset, about twenty-eight miles distant. By sundown the space had been covered. Here the Confederates again found large quantities of stores, the telegraph office was open. More than a hundred wagons were captured and burned, and ammunition, shoes, blankets and hats, in great quantities, were stored in warehouses in exceeding abundance. There was lavish appropriation. A few wagons were loaded with the things which were most needed in Dixie, and the torch was applied to the others and they were reduced to ashes.

At Stigall’s Ferry, six miles from Somerset, the Cumberland River was passed, and that night the command camped at Monticello, twenty-two miles southwardly. All need of hurry was now past. There was no likelihood that the Federals would cross the Cumberland River. Morgan had outmarched them and out-maneuvered them and he was safe. With satisfaction and peace of mind born of noble achievement, he could look back upon the events of the past twenty-four days. He summed it up in these words: “I left Knoxville on the 4th of this month with nine hundred men and returned to Livingston on the 28th inst. with twelve hundred, having been absent twenty-four days, during which time I have traveled over a thousand miles, captured seventeen towns, destroyed all the government supplies and arms in them, dispersed about fifteen hundred Home Guards, paroled nearly twelve hundred regular troops. I lost in killed and wounded and missing of the number that I carried into Kentucky, about ninety.”

At Somerset, Ellsworth, the operator, had telegraphed for Morgan and himself several messages to the Federal leaders in Kentucky, and concluded his telegraphic work with the following despatch: “Headquarters Telegraphic Department of Kentucky, Confederate States of America. General Order Number 1. When an operator is positively informed that the enemy is marching on his station, he will immediately proceed to destroy the telegraphic instruments and all material in his charge. Such instances of carelessness as were exhibited on the part of the operators at Lebanon and Midway and Georgetown will be severely dealt with.—By order of G. A. Ellsworth, General Military Superintendent, C. S. Telegraphic Department.”

The story of the successes, victories and strategies of this wonderful expedition was quickly spread abroad throughout the entire Confederate States. The minds of many of the young men were stirred by the strange exploits of Morgan on this raid, and their hearts were thrilled with the story of his adventures and his triumphs. Many who had not enlisted were inclined to seek service under the Kentucky chieftain. They longed to have experiences such as he and his followers had enjoyed on this marvellous raid. What was accomplished by General Morgan set other Confederate cavalry leaders to thinking and inspired them with patriotic ambitions to emulate the tactics of the Kentucky cavalryman.

Chapter VI
FORREST’S RAID INTO WEST TENNESSEE,
DECEMBER, 1862

To the great Volunteer State, Tennessee, belongs the credit of having produced, in many respects, the most remarkable cavalry leader in the world—Nathan Bedford Forrest. He was born near Duck River, at a little hamlet called Chapel Hill, then in Bedford County, Tennessee, but now comprised within the boundaries of Marshall County. Scotch-Irish and English blood flowed through the veins of this great warrior. This strain rarely fails to produce courage, fortitude and enterprise.

When Nathan Bedford Forrest was thirteen years of age, the financial affairs of his father, William Forrest, had gone awry. Leaving Tennessee with seven children, he entered a homestead in Tippah County, North Mississippi, a region which had just been opened to settlement through a purchase by the Federal Government from the Chickasaw Indians. The magical hand of immigration had as yet done little for this region. The Indians had hunted over the lands, but civilization had not given it prosperity and fitted it for the homes of peaceful agriculturists.

Death, with rude hand and pitiless dart, cut down the father, William Forrest. His oldest boy, not sixteen years of age, became the head of his family, including his mother, six brothers and three sisters, and then four months after the father had passed away, there came a posthumous boy, Jeffrey, who, on the 22nd day of February, 1864, was to die a soldier’s death at Okolona, Mississippi, resisting Sooy Smith’s raid. In the supreme moment of dissolution his valiant and heroic brother pressed his dying form to his heart and imprinted upon his cheek, now damp with the death sweat, a last kiss of affection and love. The death of this young brother, upon whom Forrest lavished an immeasurable wealth of tenderness, was the greatest blow the war brought to his fearless heart.

Forrest, deprived of education by the calls of filial duty, secured only such learning as could be obtained at a primary school in Middle Tennessee and in Mississippi in 1836 and 1837, which was scant enough, and which was won between the fall harvest and spring planting seasons.

Within three years, by his indomitable will, his great industry, his shrewd judgment and unceasing labor, he had won for his mother, sisters and brothers agricultural independence.