Calhoun went wild when he heard that the state was to be given up without a decisive battle, that all that had been gained was to go for naught; and his feelings were shared by all Morgan’s men.
“It won’t prevent us from visiting the state once in a while,” said Morgan, with a grim smile.
As for Judge Pennington, he was so disgusted that although his whole heart was with the South, he gave up all idea of forming a state government loyal to the Confederacy, and remained quiet during the rest of the war. “The armies will have to settle it,” he would say; “we can do nothing here.”
One of the first things that Calhoun did after he reached Danville was to see Jennie Freeman and thank her for her timely warning. “It was kind of you, Jennie,” he said, “for I know that you hate the cause for which I am fighting.”
“My conscience has hurt me awfully ever since,” replied Jennie, with a toss of her head; “and then I believe you told me an awful fib.”
“Why, how is that, Jennie?” asked Calhoun.
“You worked on my sympathy, and said if you were caught you would be hanged. The Union forces don’t hang prisoners. They would only have shut you up, and that is what you deserve.”
“But, Jennie, I was in disguise; they would have hanged me as a spy.”
“Don’t believe it, but I sometimes think half of you Rebels ought to be hanged.”
“Oh, Jennie, Jennie! what a bloodthirsty [pg 133]creature you have grown! But where is your father?”