Commodore Renshaw, in command of the Westfield, was not disposed to rush away and leave his comrades on the Harriet Lane unsupported. The shallowness of the water and the limited space in which these vessels had maneuvered caused the Westfield, Commodore Renshaw’s boat, to run aground. The Mary Boardman, one of the transports, gamely essayed to help the Westfield, and the Clifton, another propeller, tendered her assistance in her extremity. The laurel wreath had been woven for the brow of the daring, fearless Confederates, and no effort of the brave Federals could stay the losses. When the enterprise was first considered, only hope stirred the hearts of the men in gray. They scarcely calculated that, under the most favorable conditions, any such consequence could come from the expedition. Brave and fearless, they were not prepared for such a wonderful result. True, they were guided by Magruder’s genius, aided by Smith’s skill, led by Green’s immeasurable courage, helped by Bagby’s experience, impelled by Scurry’s valor, encouraged by Cook’s dauntless bravery, and inspired by McNeill’s calm and imperturbable gallantry; but none dared to believe that so much could be accomplished in so brief a period, or such transcendent success crown even the bravest of men, facing such difficulties with such splendid reward. The Federal vessels which escaped sailed away. They left Galveston a Confederate possession. The survivors were glad to go beyond the reach of horsemen, who were as reckless and enterprising on the sea as they had proven themselves on the land.
It was a great victory. It cost the Confederates twenty-six killed and one hundred and seventeen wounded, but the success of the enterprise and the flight of the Federal vessels from Galveston set abroad a great wave of enthusiasm and patriotism. Few could realize that such glorious results could be obtained by men, handicapped by insufficient resources, even when sustained by the highest courage and noblest spirit. What had been done stirred the hearts of all the people of Texas. They recognized in General Magruder an illustrious soldier, and in the Texas cavalry, whether on land or sea, an invincible host, which had the apparent power to wrest from fate victory under any conditions, however adverse or stormy.
Chapter VIII
COLONEL ROY S. CLUKE’S KENTUCKY RAID,
FEBRUARY-MARCH, 1863
On the 14th of February, 1863, a small brigade of Kentucky cavalry assembled at McMinnville, Tennessee. Seven hundred and fifty men constituted the organization. The 8th Kentucky cavalry, of which Roy S. Cluke was colonel, Major Robert S. Bullock commanding, was to form the basis of the men to be used in an expedition into Central Kentucky. Lieutenant Colonel Cicero Coleman of the regiment had been seriously wounded at Hartsville on the 7th of December, and still suffering, was unable to go. In addition to the 8th Kentucky cavalry, the 9th Kentucky cavalry furnished two companies under the command of Colonel Robert G. Stoner, who was one of the bravest and most enterprising of Morgan’s men. These constituted the first battalion. Companies C and I of Gano’s regiment and Company A of the 2nd Kentucky, under command of Major Theophilus Steele, constituted the second battalion. Later, in Wayne County, Companies D and I of Chenault’s (the 11th) regiment, were added to Stoner’s battalion. Colonel Cluke was allowed a couple of brass cannon, howitzers, affectionately called by Morgan’s men the “bull pups.” They never did very great damage, but they made a loud noise. They looked to an enemy much bigger than they were, and if they were not very effective with their shots, they were oftentimes extremely forceful with their “barking.”
No seven hundred and fifty men were ever more ably commanded. Colonel Cluke was not only a brave but a brilliant officer.
General Morgan furnished his two brothers as part of the staff. The best possible material was designated for this service. The men chosen for this raid were thoroughly acquainted with most of the territory through which Colonel Cluke would necessarily have to pass. The companies of the 11th would know Madison and the adjoining counties, Companies C and I of the 3rd Kentucky (Gano’s) would know Scott and Franklin Counties. Company A of the 2nd would be familiar with almost the entire Bluegrass, and Cluke’s own regiment would know Kentucky from Maysville to Springfield and Somerset. He started out with the advantage of men who had full and complete knowledge of the country through which he was to operate. This added much to the efficiency of the little brigade. Lieutenant Shuck, of the 8th Kentucky, was given the command of the advance guard. The importance of the advance guard in cavalry campaigns cannot be over-estimated. It requires officers of great coolness, of much dash, dauntless courage, and men who never counted the cost and who would follow in the face of any danger wherever they were ordered to go. In such an expedition scouts would also play a most useful and prominent part. To Lieutenant Hopkins, of the 2nd, and S. P. Cunningham, of the 8th, were given the choice and control of the scouts. Neither the advance guard nor the scouts made a very large force. All told, they did not exceed forty, but these were men upon whom any commander could rely at any hour of day or night and in any place whither they might come.
At McMinnville a hundred rounds of ammunition were counted out and six days’ rations were issued to the men upon the morning that they marched away. Nature did not appear to be in harmony with the purposes of this expedition. The weather was extremely inclement, and, for that part of Tennessee, extraordinarily cold. Hardly had the line been formed until sleet and rain and snow came violently down. These, with the tramping of the horses’ feet, soon made veritable sloughs of the dirt roads over which the march was progressing. The line pursued ran through Sparta, Obey City, Jamestown, in Tennessee, to the Kentucky border. This country presented a scene of universal desolation. In times of peace it was not fully able to supply the needs of its own inhabitants, and now that armies had traversed it for more than a year, there was not sufficient forage at any one place to feed one company of horsemen. The six days’ coarse rations given the men in their haversacks at McMinnville would keep them from want, but the horses, with hardest possible service in the midst of fearfully disagreeable weather, could only hope for scantiest and most insufficient provender. The entire one hundred and ten miles from McMinnville to the Cumberland River had been, before this period, practically eaten out of house and home, and there was little left for the strangers who might pass these mountain ways.
The Cumberland River was the only real barrier to this small force as it entered Kentucky. Once it was passed, there would be so many roads for the invaders to take that it would be impossible for the defenders to either stop their march or seriously impede their journeyings. The banks of the Cumberland were full. The Federals on the north side had taken all boats across to prevent passage by an enemy. Luckily, a canoe was found hidden away, large enough to convey Colonel Stoner and Lieutenant Hopkins and several men over the stream. These silently and stealthily paddled across. Some countryman, without the fear of “blue coats” before his eyes, had stored this craft in the bushes along a small tributary. He had probably used it in secret ferrying of goods to the south bank. With plenty of everything on the north side, it was not treason to keep a canoe hidden, with which, when no picket was present, or his eye not open, to run across the boundary calico, sugar, coffee or other necessities, so essential to the war-despoiled women and children on the south side, upon whom starvation and want had laid heavy hand.
Colonel Stoner and his cavalry comrades were fortunate and shrewd enough to surprise and capture the Federal pickets who were posted to guard Stigall’s Ferry, a short distance north of Burnside, where Colonel Cluke had proposed and now determined to cross. A couple of flatboats and a coal barge were discovered amongst the Federal possessions, and these were quickly brought over. Now, in the face of vigorous foes, action was the watchword of the hour. With their saddles and guns, the men hastily rushed into the flatboats and poled and paddled over the stream. A more desperate mode of crossing was assigned to the horses. It was still bitter cold, and the poor beasts were forced into the river and compelled to swim its rapid currents. They could not speak, and they hesitated to plunge in; but the shouts and belaborings of their apparently cruel masters were more potent than their fears, and with only their noses above the water, and their bodies beneath the frigid waves, lapped into motion by the piercing winds, they swam diagonally across to the opposite shore. Already weakened by a trying march of more than a hundred miles, so great was the shock to the animals that a number of them were chilled to death and died upon the bank as they emerged from the water.
The severity of the winter rendered very rapid marching impossible. On the 19th of February, the little army reached Somerset, the county seat of Pulaski. A strong Federal force was stationed there, but alarmed by reports of an army of Confederates approaching from Knoxville, they hurriedly retreated to Danville, forty-five miles away and left a clear road for Colonel Cluke. Here a full supply of stores had been collected. Their guardians were in such a great hurry to ride to Danville that they forgot, or neglected, to destroy them. This was a gracious windfall for the Confederates. The Government and the sutlers had the very things these benumbed men and horses most needed. After supplying his tired beasts and hungry soldiers with all that was necessary to comfort, warm and feed them, and burning the remainder, Colonel Cluke made a forced march of twenty-eight miles to Mount Vernon. If he accomplished his work it was important to surprise his enemies, and in such work Colonel Cluke was a master hand. Finding nothing here, he pushed on to Richmond, Kentucky. The roads were wet, sloppy, slushy, and still blinding snowstorms and heavy rains with chilling currents, rushing down from the north, attempted to bid defiance to these sturdy riders, to stay their advance and render their march more harassing and tedious.