HISTORY

OF

MORGAN'S CAVALRY

By BASIL W. DUKE

CINCINNATI:
MIAMI PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY,
CORNER BEDINGER STREET AND MIAMI CANAL.
1867

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-six,
By MRS. HENRIETTA MORGAN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Kentucky, at Covington.

TO THE WOMEN OF KENTUCKY,
FRIENDS AND RELATIVES
OF THE GALLANT MEN WHOSE HEROISM HAS BECOME PART OF THE HISTORIC
HERITAGE OF THE STATE,

AND

To the Noble Women of the South,

Whose kindness alleviated the hardships
which these men so long endured, and for whose sake they were
proud to suffer and bleed,
THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED.

PREFACE

The writer presents to the reading public the narrative of an arduous and adventurous military career, which, commencing at a period but little subsequent to the outbreak of the late civil war, continued through the four eventful years.

He has endeavored to make the work a correct and graphic representation of the kind of warfare of which Morgan was the author, and in which his men won so much celebrity. Strict accuracy has been attempted in the description of the military operations of which the book is a record, and it is hoped that the incidents related of personal daring and adventure will be read with some interest.

The author regrets that, for reasons easily understood, the book is far less complete than he desired to make it. The very activity of the service performed by Morgan's Cavalry prevented the preservation of data which would be very valuable, and a full account of many important operations is therefore impossible. Limited space, also, forbids the mention of many brave deeds. If many gallant and deserving men were noticed as they deserve, the book could not be readily finished.

To the friends whose contributions assisted the work, the author returns his warmest thanks.

To Mr. Meade Woodson, to whom he is indebted for the maps which so perfectly illustrate his narrative, he is especially grateful.

He regrets, too, that many of his old comrades have altogether failed to render him aid, confidently expected, and which would have been very valuable. B.W.D.

CONTENTS

[CHAPTER I]
History of Morgan's Cavalry—Why written—First enlistments—Popularity of
Morgan—Misrepresentation of the press—New uses of cavalry.
[CHAPTER II]
Early life of General Morgan—His qualities as a commander—His personal
qualities.
[CHAPTER III]
Political condition of Kentucky in 1861—Bewilderment of the people—Camp Dick
Robinson—First entrance of Confederate troops.
[CHAPTER IV]
Military situation in the West—Advance to Bowlinggreen—Scarcity of arms—Organization
of the army—Want of discipline—Qualities which compensated
for its absence.
[CHAPTER V]
Morgan leaves Lexington—Roger W. Hanson—Service on Green River—Scouting—Our
first skirmish—Narrow escape—Terry's Rangers.
[CHAPTER VI]
Retreat from Bowlinggreen—Evacuation of Nashville—Our Fourth Ohio acquaintances—Scouting
near Nashville—Morgan holds Murfreesboro'—Dash on
Mitchell—Night attack—Capture of Gallatin—Stampede of our pickets—Promotion
of Morgan—Concentration at Corinth.
[CHAPTER VII]
Battle of Shiloh—Death of Sidney Johnson—Result of the battle—Expedition
into Tennessee—Cotton turning and telegraphing—Defeat at Lebanon—Expedition
to Cave City in Kentucky.
[CHAPTER VIII]
Reorganization at Chattanooga—First raid into Kentucky—Fight at Tompkinsville—Capture
of Lebanon—Telegraphic strategy—Morgan master of the situation—Fight
at Cynthiana—Evade the pursuing troops.
[CHAPTER IX]
Capture of Gallatin—Active service near Nashville—Fights at Gallatin and
Cairo—Destruction of the railroad—Sojourn at Hartsville—The videttes—Kentuckians
running from the draft—"The Vidette."

[CHAPTER X]
Again on the march for Kentucky—Bushwhacking experience—The Confederate
army enters the State—Service in front of Covington—Efforts to embarrass
the retreat of the Federal General Morgan—Fight at Augusta—Retreat of
the army from Kentucky—Morgan captures Lexington.
[CHAPTER XI]
Morgan's retreat through Southwestern Kentucky—At Gallatin again—Scouting
and ambuscades—Driven from Gallatin—A week's fighting around Lebanon—Battle
of Hartsville.
[CHAPTER XII]
December raid into Kentucky—Capture of Elizabethtown—Fighting at the Rolling
Fork—Escape from the toils.
[CHAPTER XIII]
Service during the winter of '63 and '64—Cluke's raid into Kentucky—Battle
of Milton—Defeat at Snow's Hill.
[CHAPTER XIV]
Service in Tennessee, and on the Cumberland in Kentucky—Fight at Greasy
Creek—Active scouting—The division starts for the Ohio—Crossing of the
Cumberland in the face of the enemy—Fights at Columbia, Green River
and Lebanon—Crossing the Ohio—The militia objecting—Fight with the
gunboats—March through Indiana and Ohio—Detour around Cincinnati—Defeat
at Buffington.
[CHAPTER XV]
Life in prison—Escape of Morgan from the Ohio Penitentiary—Exchange at
Charleston.3
[CHAPTER XVI]
Services of the remnant of Morgan's command while their General was in prison—Reception
of General Morgan by the people of the South—He is assigned
to command in Southwestern Virginia—Fight with Averill—Action at Dublin
Depot—Last raid into Kentucky—Capture of Mt. Sterling—Severe engagement
next day—Capture of Lexington—Success at Cynthiana—Defeat
at Cynthiana—Retreat from Kentucky.
[CHAPTER XVII]
Death of Morgan—Grief of his men—Subsequent active service of his old command—Hard
fight at Bull's Gap—A battle by moonlight, and a night-long
chase—The Stoneman raid—Disaster at Kingsport—Fighting the enemy and
the elements—Battle of Marion—Winter quarters at Abingdon—March to
Charlotte after Lee's surrender—Escort to Jefferson Davis after Johnston's
surrender—The last Council of War—Surrender at Woodstock.

HISTORY

OF

MORGAN'S CAVALRY

CHAPTER I

In undertaking to write the history of General Morgan's services, and of the command which he created, it is but fair that I shall acknowledge myself influenced, in a great measure, by the feelings of the friend and the follower; that I desire, if I can do so by relating facts, of most of which I am personally cognizant, to perpetuate his fame, and, at the same time, establish the true character of a body of men, who recruited and inured to war by him, served bravely and faithfully to the close of the great struggle. It may be that credence will be given with hesitation to the statements of one, who thus candidly confesses that personal regard for his chief, and esprit-de-corps mainly induce him to attempt the task I propose to myself. To all works of this nature, nevertheless, the same objection will apply, or the more serious one, that they owe their production to the inspiration of hatred, and those who have witnessed and participated in the events which they describe, must (under this rule), for that very reason, be denied belief.

General Morgan's career during the late war was so remarkable, that it is not surprising that the public, accustomed to the contradictory newspaper versions of his exploits, should be disposed to receive all accounts of it with some incredulity.

It was so rapid, so crowded with exciting incidents, appealed so strongly to the passions and elicited so constantly the comments of both sides, that contemporary accounts of his operations were filled with mistakes and exaggerations, and it is natural that some should be expected in any history of his campaigns, although written after the strife is all over.

Convinced, however, that, if properly understood, his reputation will be greater in history than with his contemporaries, and believing that the story of his military life will be a contribution not altogether valueless to that record which the Southern people, in justice to themselves and their dead, must yet publish, I can permit no minor consideration to deter me from furnishing correct, and, I deem, important information, which my relations, personal and official, with General Morgan enabled me to obtain. A correct representation of a certain series of events sometimes leads to a correct understanding of many more, and if the vail which prejudice and deliberate unscrupulous falsification have thrown over some features of the contest be lifted, a truer appreciation may perhaps be had of others of greater moment and interest. I may add that, as no one has been more bitterly assailed, not only while living but even after death, than General Morgan, so no man's memory should be more peculiarly the subject of vindication and protection to his friends.

But there are also other and cogent reasons why this tribute should be rendered him by some one, who, devoted to the interests of the living chieftain, is sensitive regarding the reputation he has left. The cruel ingratitude which embittered the last days of his life, has made his memory all the dearer to the many who were true and constant in their love and esteem for him, and they feel that he should be justly depicted. The fame which he desired will be accorded him; the reward for which he strove is his already, in the affection of the people by whom he hoped and deserved that the kindest recollections of him should be cherished and the warmest eulogies pronounced. In the glory won, in the tremendous and unequal struggle, in the pride with which they speak the names of the dead heroes whose martyrdom illustrated it, the Southern people possess treasures of which no conqueror can deprive them.

A man who, like General Morgan, uninfluenced by the public opinion of the State in which he resided, yet surrendered fortune, home and friends to assist the people of the South when embarked in the desperate and vital strife which their action had provoked, because sharing their blood and their convictions, he thought that they had an imperative claim upon his services; who pledged his all to their cause, and identified his name with every phase of the contest, until his death became an event of the last and most bitter—such a man can never be forgotten by them. It is impossible that the memory of his services can ever fade from their minds.

In the beautiful land for which he fought and died, the traditions which will indicate the spots where he struck her foes, will also preserve his name in undying affection and honor. The men of the generation which knew him can forget him only when they forget the fate from which he strove to save them; his name belongs to the history of the race, and it can not die.

A narrative of the operations of a command composed, in great part, of Kentuckians, must possess some interest for the people of their own State. So general and intense was the interest which Morgan excited among the young men of the State, that he obtained recruits from every county, numbers running every risk to join him, when no other leader could enlist a man. The whole State was represented in his command. Many Kentuckians who had enlisted in regiments from other States procured transfers to his command, and it frequently happened that men, the bulk of whose regiments were in prison, or who had become irregularly detached from them by some of the many accidents by which the volunteer, weary of monotony, is prompt to take advantage, would attach themselves to and serve temporarily with it. Probably every native citizen of Kentucky who will read these lines, will think of some relative or friend who at some time served with Morgan. Men of even the strictest "Union principles," whose loyalty has always been unimpeachable, and whose integrity (as disinterested and as well assured as their patriotism) forbids all suspicion that they were inclined to serve two masters, have had to furnish aid in this way to the rebellion. Frequently after these gentlemen had placed in the Federal army substitutes, white or black, for loyal sons of unmilitary temperaments, other sons, rebellious, and more enterprising, would elect to represent the family in some one of Morgan's regiments. It is not unlikely, then, that a record of these men, written by one who has had every opportunity of learning the true story of every important and interesting event which he did not witness, may be favorably received by the people of Kentucky. The class of readers who will be gratified by an account of such adventures as will be herein related, will readily forgive any lack of embellishment. My practical countrymen prefer the recital of substantial facts, and the description of scenes which their own experience enables them to appreciate, to all the fictions of which the Northern war literature has been so prolific.

The popular taste in Kentucky and the South does not require the fabulous and romantic; less educated and more primitive than that of the North, it rejects even the beautiful, if also incredible, and is more readily satisfied with plain statements, supported by evidence, or intrinsically probable, than with the most fascinating legend, although illustrated with sketches by special artists.

There rests, too, upon some one identified with this command, the obligation of denying and disproving the frequent and grave charges of crime and outrage which have been preferred against General Morgan and his soldiers. So persistently have these accusations been made, that at one time an avowal of "belonging to Morgan" was thought, even in Kentucky, tantamount to a confession of murder and highway robbery. To this day, doubtless, the same impression prevails in the North, and yet, when it is considered how it was produced, it is surprising that it should or could last so long.

The newspapers are of course responsible for it, as for every other opinion entertained at any time by the Northern public.

It will repay any one who will take the trouble to examine the files of these papers printed during the war, if he desires a curious entertainment. Among many willful misrepresentations of Morgan's as well as of other Confederate commands, many statements palpably false, and regarding events of which the writers could not possibly have obtained correct information, will be found under the most astounding captions, proclaiming the commission of "unheard of atrocities" and "guerrilla outrages," accounts of Morgan having impressed horses or taken forage and provisions from Union men, while highly facetious descriptions of house-burning, jewelry snatching, and a thorough sacking of premises are chronicled, without one word of condemnation, under the heading of "frolics of the boys in blue." In thus referring to the manner in which the Northern newspapers mentioned the respective combatants whose deeds their reporters pretended to record, I have no wish to provoke a renewal of the wordy war.

The Southern journals were undoubtedly sufficiently denunciatory, although they did not always seem to consider a bad deed sanctified because done by their friends. Nor have I any intention of denying that inexcusable excesses were committed at various times by men of Morgan's command. I freely admit that we had men in our ranks whose talents and achievements could have commanded respect even among the "Bummers." There were others, too, whose homes had been destroyed and property "confiscated," whose families had been made to "feel the war," who were incited by an unholy spirit of revenge to commit acts as well worth relation, as any of those for which the "weekly" of his native township has duly lauded the most industrious Federal raider, actuated by a legitimate desire of pleasure or gain. It will not be difficult to prove that such practices met with rebuke from General Morgan and his officers, and that they were not characteristic of his command. There are other impressions about Morgan and "Morgan's men" which I shall endeavor to correct, as, although by no means so serious as those just mentioned, they are not at all just to the reputation of either leader or followers. It is a prevalent opinion that his troops were totally undisciplined and unaccustomed to the instruction and restraint which form the soldier. They were, to be sure, far below the standard of regular troops in these respects, and doubtless they were inferior in many particulars of drill and organization to some carefully-trained bodies of cavalry, Confederate and Federal, which were less constantly and actively engaged in service on the front.

But these essential requisites to efficiency were by no means neglected or in a great degree lacking. The utmost care was exercised in the organization of every regiment to place the best men in office—General Morgan frequently interfering, for that purpose, in a manner warranted neither by the regulations nor the acts of congress. No opportunity was neglected to attain proficiency in the tactics which experience had induced us to adopt, and among officers and men there was a perfect appreciation of the necessity of strict subordination, prompt unquestioning obedience to superiors, and an active, vigilant discharge of all the duties which devolve upon the soldier in the vicinity or presence of the enemy.

I do not hesitate to say that "Morgan's Division," in its best days, would have lost nothing (in points of discipline and instruction) by comparison with any of the fine cavalry commands, which did constant service, of the Confederate army, and the testimony of more than one inspecting officer can be cited to that effect. More credit, too, has been given General Morgan for qualities and ability which constitute a good spy, or successful partisan to lead a handful of men, than for the very decided military talents which he possessed. He is most generally thought to have been in truth, the "Guerrilla Chief," which the Northern press entitled and strove to prove him. It will not be difficult to disabuse the minds of military men (or, indeed, intelligent men of any class) of this impression. It will be only necessary to review his campaigns and give the reasons which induced his movements, to furnish an authentic and thorough statement of facts, and, as far as practicable, an explanation of attendant circumstances, and it will be seen that he had in an eminent degree many of the highest and most necessary qualities of the General.

An even cursory study of Morgan's record will convince the military reader, that the character he bore with those who served with him was deserved.

That while circumspect and neglectful of no precaution to insure success or avert disaster, he was extremely bold in thought and action. That using every means to obtain extensive and accurate information (attempting no enterprise of importance without it), and careful in the consideration of every contingency, he was yet marvelously quick to combine and to revolve, and so rapid and sudden in execution, as frequently to confound both friends and enemies.

And above all, once convinced, he never hesitated to act; he would back his judgment against every hazard, and with every resource at his command.

Whatever merit be allowed or denied General Morgan, he is beyond all question entitled to the credit of having discovered uses for cavalry, or rather mounted infantry, to which that arm was never applied before. While other cavalry officers were adhering to the traditions of former wars, and the systems of the schools, however inapplicable to the demands of their day and the nature of the struggle, he originated and perfected, not only a system of tactics, a method of fighting and handling men in the presence of the enemy, but also a strategy as effective as it was novel.

Totally ignorant of the art of war as learned from the books and in the academies; an imitator in nothing; self taught in all that he knew and did, his success was not more marked than his genius.

The creator and organizer of his own little army—with a force which at no time reached four thousand—he killed and wounded nearly as many of the enemy, and captured more than fifteen thousand. The author of the far-reaching "raid," so different from the mere cavalry dash, he accomplished with his handful of men results which would otherwise have required armies and the costly preparations of regular and extensive campaigns.

I shall endeavor to show the intimate connection between his operations and those of the main army in each department where he served, and the strategic importance of even his apparently rashest and most purposeless raids, when considered with reference to their bearing upon the grand campaigns of the West. When the means at his disposal, the difficulties with which he had to contend, and the results he effected are well understood, it will be conceded that his reputation with the Southern soldiery was not undeserved, and that to rank with the best of the many active and excellent cavalry officers of the West, to have had, confessedly, no equal among them except in Forrest, argues him to have possessed no common ability. The design of this work may in part fail, because of the inability of one so little accustomed to the labors of authorship to present his subject in the manner that it deserves; but the theme is one sure to be interesting and impressive however treated, and materials may, in this way be preserved for abler pens and more extensive works.

The apparent egotism in the constant use of the first person will, I trust, be excused by the explanation that I write of matters and events known almost entirely from personal observation, reports of subordinate officers to myself, or personal knowledge of reports made directly to General Morgan, and that, serving for a considerable period as his second in command, it was necessarily my duty to see to the execution of his plans, and I enjoyed a large share of his confidence.

For the spirit in which it is written, I have only to say that I have striven to be candid and accurate; to that sort of impartiality which is acquired at the expense of a total divestiture of natural feeling, I can lay no claim.

A Southern man, once a Confederate soldier—always thoroughly Southern in sentiments and feeling, I can, of course, write only a Southern account of what I saw in the late war, and as such what is herein written must be received.

CHAPTER II

John Hunt Morgan was born at Huntsville, Alabama, on the first day of June, 1825. His father, Calvin C. Morgan, was a native of Virginia, and a distant relative of Daniel Morgan, the rebel general of revolutionary fame. In early manhood, Mr. Morgan followed the tide of emigration flowing from Virginia to the West, and commenced life as a merchant in Alabama. In 1823, he married the daughter of John W. Hunt, of Lexington, Kentucky, one of the wealthiest and most successful merchants of the State, and one whose influence did much to develope the prosperity of that portion of it in which he resided.

Mr. Morgan is described by all who knew him as a gentleman whom it was impossible to know and not to respect and esteem. His character was at once firm and attractive, but he possessed neither the robust constitution nor the adventurous and impetuous spirit which characterized other members of his family. He was quiet and studious in his habits, and although fond of the society of his friends, he shunned every species of excitement. When failing health, and, perhaps, a distaste for mercantile pursuits induced him to relinquish them, he removed with his family to Kentucky (his son John was then four years old), and purchased a farm near Lexington, upon which he lived until a few years before his death.

John H. Morgan was reared in Kentucky, and lived in Lexington from his eighteenth year until the fall of 1861, when he joined the Confederate army. There was nothing in his boyhood, of which any record has been preserved, to indicate the distinction he was to win, and neither friends nor enemies can deduce from anecdotes of his youthful life arguments of any value in support of the views which they respectively entertain of his character. In this respect, also, he displayed his singular originality of character, and he is about the only instance in modern times (if biographies are to be believed) of a distinguished man who had not, as a boy, some presentiment of his future, and did not conduct himself accordingly.

When nineteen he enlisted for the "Mexican War" and was elected First Lieutenant of Captain Beard's company, in Colonel Marshall's regiment of cavalry. He served in Mexico for eighteen months, but did not, he used to say, see much of "war" during that time. He was, however, at the battle of Buena Vista, in which fight Colonel Marshall's regiment was hotly engaged, and his company, which was ably led, suffered severely. Soon after his return home he married Miss Bruce, of Lexington, a sweet and lovely lady, who, almost from the day of her wedding, was a confirmed and patient invalid and sufferer. Immediately after his marriage, he entered energetically into business—was industrious, enterprising and prosperous, and at the breaking out of the war in 1861, he was conducting in Lexington two successful manufactories. Every speculation and business enterprise in which he engaged succeeded, and he had acquired a very handsome property. This he left, when he went South, to the mercy of his enemies, making no provision whatever for its protection, and apparently caring not at all what became of it. As he left some debts unsettled, his loyal creditors soon disposed of it with the aid of the catch-rebel attachment law.

When quite a young man he had two or three personal difficulties in Lexington, in one of which he was severely wounded. To those who recollect the tone of society in Kentucky at that day, it will be no matter of astonishment to learn that a young man of spirit became engaged in such affairs. His antagonists, however, became, subsequently, his warm friends. The stigmas upon General Morgan's social standing, so frequent in the Northern press, need not be noticed. Their falsity was always well known in Kentucky and the South.

The calumnies, so widely circulated regarding his private life, must be noticed, or the duty of the biographer would be neglected in an important particular. And yet, except to positively deny every thing which touched his integrity as a man and his honor as a gentleman, it would seem that there is nothing for his biographer to do in this respect. The wealth at the disposal of the Federal Government attracted into its service all the purchasable villainy of the press—North and South. It was not even necessary for the Government to bid for them—they volunteered to perform, gratis, in the hope of future reward. To undertake a refutation of every slander broached by this gang against a man, so constantly a theme for all tongues and pens, as was Morgan, would be an impossible, even if it were a necessary, task. It is enough to say that he was celebrated, and therefore he was belied. General Morgan was certainly no "saint"—his friends may claim that he had no right to that title and not the slightest pretension to it. While he respected true piety in other men, and, as those who knew him intimately will well remember, evinced on all occasions a profound and unaffected veneration for religion, he did not profess, nor did he regulate his life by religious convictions. Like the great majority of the men of his class—the gentlemen of the South—he lived freely, and the amusements he permitted himself would, doubtless, have shocked a New Englander almost as much as the money he spent in obtaining them. Even had the manners of the people among whom he lived have made it politic to conceal carefully every departure from straight-laced morality, he, of all men, would have been the least likely to do so, for he scorned hypocrisy as he did every species of meanness. To sum up, General Morgan, with the virtues, had some of the faults of his Southern blood and country, and he sought so little to extenuate the latter himself, that it may be presumed that he cared not the least whether or no they were recorded.

While no censure can, of course, be directed against those who slandered him, as they did others, for hire—and it would be as absurd in this age and country, to gravely denounce the lie-coiners of the press, as to waste time in impeaching the false witnesses that figure before military commissions—nevertheless, as justice ought to be done to all, it should be remarked that among the respectable people who furtively gave currency to every story to his injury were some who owed their power to harm him to the generosity of his grandfather, who loved to assist all sorts of merit, but was particularly partial to manual skill.

The qualities in General Morgan, which would have attracted most attention in private life, were an exceeding gentleness of disposition and unbounded generosity. His kindness and goodness of heart were proverbial. His manner, even after he had become accustomed to command, was gentle and kind, and no doubt greatly contributed to acquire him the singular popularity which he enjoyed long before he had made his military reputation. The strong will and energy which he always displayed might not have elicited much notice, had not the circumstances in which the war placed him developed and given them scope for exercise. But his affection for the members of his family and his friends, the generosity which prompted him to consult their wishes at the expense of any sacrifice of his own, his sensitive regard for the feelings of others, even of those in whom he felt least interest, and his rare charity for the failings of the weak, made up a character which, even without an uncommon destiny, would have been illustrious.

His benevolence was so well known in Lexington, that to "go to Captain Morgan" was the first thought of every one who wished to inaugurate a charitable enterprise, and his business house was a rendezvous for all the distressed, and a sort of "intelligence office" for the poor seeking employment. His temper was cheerful and frequently gay; no man more relished pleasantry and mirth in the society of his friends, with whom his manner was free and even at times jovial; but he never himself indulged in personal jests nor familiarities, nor did he permit them from his most intimate associates; to attempt them with him gave him certain and lasting offense. There was never a more sanguine man; with him to live was to hope and to dare. Yet while rarely feeling despondency and never despair, he did not deceive himself with false or impossible expectations. He was quick to perceive the real and the practical, and while enterprising in the extreme he was not in the least visionary. His nerve, his powers of discrimination, the readiness with which he could surrender schemes found to be impracticable, if by chance he became involved in them, and his energy and close attention to his affairs, made him very successful in business, and undoubtedly the same qualities, intensified by the demand that war made upon them, contributed greatly to his military success.

But it can not be denied that not only the reputation which he won, but the talent which he displayed, astonished none more than his old friends. He would, I think, have been regarded as a remarkable man under any circumstances, by all who would have intimately known him, but he was born to be great in the career in which he was so successful. It is true that war fully developed many qualities which had been observed in him previously, and (surest sign of real capacity) he to the last continued to grow with every call that was made upon him. But he manifested an aptitude for the peculiar service in which he acquired so much distinction, an instinctive appreciation of the requisites for success, and a genius for command, which made themselves immediately recognized, but which no one had expected. Nature had certainly endowed him with some gifts which she very rarely bestows, and which give the soldier who has them vast advantages; a quickness of perception and of thought, amounting almost to intuition, an almost unerring sagacity in foreseeing the operations of an adversary and in calculating the effect of his own movements upon him, wonderful control over men, as individuals and in masses, and moral courage and energy almost preternatural.

He did not seem to reason like other men, at least no one could discover the logical process, if there was one, by which his conclusions were reached. His mind worked most accurately when it worked most rapidly, and sight or sound were scarcely so swift as were its operations in an emergency.

This peculiar faculty and habit of thought enabled him to plan with a rapidity almost inconceivable. Apparently his combinations were instantaneously commenced and perfected, and, if provided with the necessary information, he matured on enterprise almost as soon as he conceived it. His language and manner were often very expressive of this peculiar constitution of mind. In consultation with those whom he admitted to his confidence, he never cared to hear arguments, he would listen only to opinions. In stating his plans, he entered into no explanations, and his expressions of his views and declaration of his purposes sounded like predictions. At such times his speech would become hurried and vehement, and his manner excited but remarkably impressive.

He evidently felt the most thorough and intense conviction himself, and he seldom failed to convince his hearers. Advice volunteered, even by those he most liked and relied on, was never well received, and when he asked counsel of them he required that it should be concise and definite, and resented hesitation or evasion. Without being in the ordinary sense of the term an excellent judge of character, he possessed, in a greater degree than any of his military associates, the faculty of judging how various circumstances (especially the events and vicissitudes of war) would affect other men, and of anticipating in all contingencies their thoughts and action. He seemed, if I may use such expressions, capable of imagining himself exactly in the situations of other men, of identifying his own mind with theirs, and thinking what they thought. He could certainly, with more accuracy than any one, divine the plans and wishes of an enemy. This was universally remarked, and he exhibited it, not only in correctly surmising the intentions of his own immediate opponents, but also in the opinions which he gave regarding the movements of the grand armies. He sought all the information which could however remotely affect his interests and designs with untiring avidity, and the novel and ingenious expedients he sometimes resorted to in order to obtain it, would perhaps furnish materials for the most interesting chapter of his history. It was a common saying among his men, that "no lawyer can cross-examine like General Morgan," and indeed the skill with which he could elicit intelligence from the evasive or treacherous answers of men unwilling to aid, or seeking to deceive him, was only less astonishing than the confidence with which he would act upon information so acquired. In army phrase, he was a capital "judge of information," that is, he could almost infallibly detect the true from the false, and determine the precise value of all that he heard. His quickness and accuracy, in this respect, amounted almost to another sense; reports, which to others appeared meager and unsatisfactory, and circumstances devoid of meaning to all but himself, frequently afforded him a significant and lively understanding of the matters which he wished to know.

He had another faculty which is very essential to military success, indispensably necessary, at any rate, to a cavalry commander who acts independently and at such distances from any base or support as he almost constantly did. I believe the English term it, having "a good eye for a country." It is the faculty of rapidly acquiring a correct idea of the nature and peculiar features of any country in which military operations are to be conducted. He neglected nothing that a close study of maps and careful inquiry could furnish of this sort of knowledge, but after a brief investigation or experience, he generally had a better understanding of the subject than either map-makers or natives could give him.

However imperfect might be his acquaintance with a country, it was nearly impossible for a guide to deceive him. What he had once learned in this respect he never forgot. A road once traveled was always afterward familiar to him, with distances, localities and the adjacent country. Thus, always having in his mind a perfect idea of the region where he principally operated, he could move with as much facility and confidence (when there) without maps and guides as with them. His favorite strategy, in his important expeditions or "raids," was to place himself by long and swift marches—moving sometimes for days and nights without a halt except to feed the horses—in the very heart of the territory where were the objects of his enterprise. He relied upon this method to confuse if not to surprise his enemy, and prevent a concentration of his forces. He would then strike right and left. He rarely declined upon such expeditions to fight when advancing, for it was his theory that then, a concentration of superior forces against him was more difficult, and that the vigor of his enemy was to a certain extent paralyzed by the celerity of his own movements and the mystery which involved them. But after commencing his retreat, he would use every effort and stratagem to avoid battle, fearing that while fighting one enemy others might also overtake him, and believing that at such times the morale of his own troops was somewhat impaired. No leader could make more skillful use of detachments. He would throw them out to great distances, even when surrounded by superior and active forces, and yet in no instance was one of them (commanded by a competent officer and who obeyed instructions) overwhelmed or cut off. It very rarely happened that they failed to accomplish the purposes for which they were dispatched, or to rejoin the main body in time to assist in decisive action. He could widely separate and apparently scatter his forces, and yet maintain such a disposition of them as to have all well in hand. When pushing into the enemy's lines he would send these detachments in every direction, until it was impossible to conjecture his real intentions—causing, generally, the shifting of troops from point to point as each was threatened; until the one he wished to attack was weakened, when he would strike at it like lightning.

He was a better strategist than tactician. He excelled in the arts which enable a commander to make successful campaigns and gain advantages without much fighting, rather than in skillful maneuvering on the field.

He knew how to thoroughly confuse and deceive an enemy, and induce in him (as he desired) false confidence or undue caution; how to isolate and persuade or compel him to surrender without giving battle; and he could usually manage, although inferior to the aggregate of the hostile forces around him, to be stronger or as strong at the point and moment of encounter.

The tactics he preferred, when he chose to fight, were attempts at surprise and a concentration of his strength for headlong dashing attacks.

To this latter method there were some objections. These attacks were made with a vigor, and inspired in the men a reckless enthusiasm, which generally rendered them successful. But if the enemy was too strong, or holding defensible positions, was resolute and stubborn in resistance, and the first two or three rushes failed to drive him, the attack was apt to fail altogether, and the reaction was correspondent to the energy of the onset.

He did not display so much ability when operating immediately with the army, as when upon detached service. He would not hesitate to remain for days closely confronting the main forces of the enemy, keeping his videttes constantly in sight of his cantonments, observing his every movement, and attacking every detachment and foraging party which he could expect to defeat. But when a grand advance of the enemy was commenced he preferred making a timely and long retreat, followed by a dash in some quarter where he was not expected, rather than to stubbornly contest their progress.

He could actively and efficiently harass a retreating army, multiplying and continuing his assaults until he seemed ubiquitous; but he was not equally efficient in covering a retreat or retarding an advance in force. Upon one or two occasions, when the emergency was imminent, he performed this sort of service cheerfully and well, but he did not like it, nor was he eminently fitted for it. He had little of that peculiar skill with which Forrest would so wonderfully embarrass an enemy's advance, and contesting every inch of his march, and pressing upon him if he hesitated or receded, convert every mistake that he made into a disaster.

In attempting a delineation of General Morgan's character, mention ought not to be omitted of certain peculiarities, which to some extent, affected his military and official conduct.

Although by no means a capricious or inconsistent man, for he entertained profound convictions and adhered to opinions with a tenacity that often amounted to prejudice, he frequently acted very much like one.

Not even those who knew him best could calculate how unusual occurrences would affect him, or induce him to act.

It frequently happened that men for whose understandings and characters he had little respect, but who were much about his person, obtained a certain sort of influence with him, but they could keep it only by a complete acquiescence in his will when it became aroused. He sometimes permitted and even encouraged suggestions from all around him, listening to the most contradictory opinions with an air of thorough acquiescence in all. It was impossible, on such occasions, to determine whether this was done to flatter the speakers, to mislead as to his real intentions, or if he was in fact undecided.

He generally ended such moments of doubt by his most original and unexpected resolutions, which he would declare exactly as if they were suggestions just made by some one else, almost persuading the parties to whom they were attributed that they had really advanced them. In his judgment of the men with whom he had to deal, he showed a strange mixture of shrewdness and simplicity. He seldom failed to discern and to take advantage of the ruling characteristics of those who approached him, and he could subsidize the knowledge and talents of other men with rare skill. He especially excelled in judging men collectively. He knew exactly how to appeal to the feelings of his men, to excite their enthusiasm, and stimulate them to dare any danger and endure any fatigue and hardship. But he sometimes committed the gravest errors in his estimation of individual character. He more than once imposed implicit confidence in men whom no one else would have trusted, and suffered himself to be deceived by the shallowest imposters. He obtained credit for profound insight into character by his possession of another and very different quality. The unbounded influence he at once acquired over almost every one who approached him, enabled him to make men do the most uncharacteristic things, and created the impression that he discovered traits of character hidden from others.

General Morgan had more of those personal qualities which make a man's friends devoted to him, than any one I have ever known.

He was himself very warm and constant in the friendships which he formed. It seemed impossible for him to do enough for those to whom he was attached, or to ever give them up. His manner when he wished, prepossessed every one in his favor. He was generally more courteous and attentive to his inferiors than to his equals and superiors. This may have proceeded in a great measure from his jealousy of dictation and impatience of restraint, but was the result also of warm and generous feelings. His greatest faults, arose out of his kindness and easiness of disposition, which rendered it impossible for him to say or do unpleasant things, unless when under the influence of strong prejudice or resentment. This temperament made him a too lax disciplinarian, and caused him to be frequently imposed upon. He was exceedingly and unfeignedly modest. For a long time he sought, in every way, to avoid the applause and ovations which met him every where in the South, and he never learned to keep a bold countenance when receiving them.

It was distressing to see him called on (as was of course often the case) for a speech—nature certainly never intended that he should win either fame or bread by oratory.

When complimented for any achievement he always gave the credit of it to some favorite officer, or attributed it to the excellence of his troops. Nothing seemed to give him more sincere pleasure than to publicly acknowledge meritorious service in a subaltern officer or private, and he would do it in a manner that made it a life long remembrance with the recipient of the compliment.

When displeased, he rarely reprimanded, but expressed his displeasure by satirically complimenting the offender; frequently the only evidence of dissatisfaction which he would show was a peculiar smile, which was exceeding significant, and any thing but agreeable to the individual conscious of having offended him.

His personal appearance and carriage were striking and graceful. His features were eminently handsome and adapted to the most pleasing expressions. His eyes were small, of a grayish blue color, and their glances keen and thoughtful. His figure on foot or on horseback was superb.

He was exactly six feet in hight, and although not at all corpulent, weighed one hundred and eighty-five pounds.

His form was perfect and the rarest combination of strength, activity and grace. His constitution seemed impervious to the effects of privation and exposure, and it was scarcely possible to perceive that he suffered from fatigue or lack of sleep. After marching for days and nights without intermission, until the hardiest men in his division were exhausted, I have known him, as soon as a halt was called, and he could safely leave his command, ride fifty miles to see his wife. Although a most practical man in all of his ideas, he irresistibly reminded one of the heroes of romance. He seemed the Fra-Moreale come to life again, and, doubtless, was as much feared and as bitterly denounced as was that distinguished officer.

Men are not often born who can wield such an influence as he exerted, apparently without an effort—who can so win men's hearts and stir their blood. He will, at least, be remembered until the Western cavalrymen and their children have all died. The bold riders who live in the border-land, whose every acre he made historic, will leave many a story of his audacity and wily skill. They will name but one man as his equal, "The wizard of the saddle," the man of revolutionary force and fire, strong, sagacious, indomitable Forrest, and the two will go down in tradition together, twin-brothers in arms and in fame.

CHAPTER III

The position assumed by Kentucky, at the inception of the late struggle, and her conduct throughout, excited the surprise, and, in no small degree, incurred for her the dislike of both the contending sections.

But while both North and South, at some time, doubted her good faith and complained of her action, all such sentiments have been entirely forgotten by the latter, and have become intensified into bitter and undisguised animosity upon the part of a large share of the population of the former.

The reason is patent. It is the same which, during the war, influenced the Confederates to hope confidently for large assistance from Kentucky, if once enabled to obtain a foothold upon her territory, and caused the Federals, on the other hand, to regard even the loudest and most zealous professors of loyalty as Secessionists in disguise, or, at best, Unionists only to save their property. It is the instinctive feeling that the people of Kentucky, on account of kindred blood, common interests, and identity of ideas in all that relates to political rights and the objects of political institutions, may be supposed likely to sympathize and to act with the people of the South. But a variety of causes and influences combined to prevent Kentucky from taking a decided stand with either of the combatants, and produced the vacillation and inconsistency which so notably characterized her councils and paralyzed her efforts in either direction, and, alas, it may be added, so seriously affected her fair fame.

Her geographical situation, presenting a frontier accessible for several hundreds of miles to an assailant coming either from the North or South, caused her people great apprehension, especially as it was accounted an absolute certainty that her territory (if she took part with the South) would be made the battle-ground and subjected to the last horrors and desolation of war. The political education of the Kentuckians, also, disposed them to enter upon such a contest with extreme reluctance and hesitation.

Originally a portion of Virginia, settled chiefly by emigration from that State, her population partook of the characteristics and were imbued with the feelings which so strongly prevailed in the mother commonwealth.

From Virginia, the first generation of Kentucky statesmen derived those opinions which became the political creed of the Southern people, and were promulgated in the celebrated resolutions of '98, which gave shape and consistency to the doctrine of States' Rights, and popular expression to that construction of the relations of the several States to the General Government (under the Federal Constitution), so earnestly insisted upon by the master-minds of Virginia. The earlier population of Kentucky was peculiarly inclined to adopt and cherish such opinions, by the promptings of that nature which seems common to all men descended from the stock of the "Old Dominion," that craving for the largest individual independence, and disposition to assert and maintain in full measure every personal right, which has always made the people of the Southern and Western States so jealous of outside interference with their local affairs. It was natural that a people, animated by such a spirit, should push their preference for self-government even to extremes; that they should esteem their most valued franchises only safe when under their own entire custody and control; that they should prefer that their peculiar institutions should be submitted only to domestic regulation, and that the personal liberty, which they prized above all their possessions, should be restrained only by laws enacted by legislators chosen from among themselves, and executed by magistrates equally identified with themselves and appreciative of their instincts.

In short, they were strongly attached to their State Governments, and were not inclined to regard as beneficent, nor, even exactly legitimate, any interference with them, upon the part of the General Government, and desired to see the powers of the latter exercised only for the "common defense and general welfare."

Without presuming to declare them correct or erroneous, it may be safely asserted that such were the views which prevailed in Kentucky at a period a little subsequent to her settlement.

This decided and almost universal sentiment was first shaken, and the minds of the people began to undergo some change, about the time of, and doubtless in consequence of, the detection of the Burr conspiracy. Burr had been identified with the party which advocated the extreme State Rights doctrines, and his principal confederates were men of the same political complexion.

The utter uselessness of his scheme, even if successful, and the little prospect of any benefit accruing from it, unless to the leading adventurers, had disposed all the more sober minded to regard it with distrust. And when it became apparent that it had been concocted for the gratification of one man's ambition, the very people whom it had been part of the plan to flatter with hopes of the most brilliant advantages, immediately conceived for it the most intense aversion.

The odium into which Burr and his associates immediately fell, became, in some measure, attached to the political school to which they had belonged, and men's minds began to be unsettled upon the very political tenets, in the propriety and validity of which they had previously so implicitly believed. The able Federalist leaders in the State, pursued and improved the advantage thus offered them, and for the first time in the history of Kentucky, that party showed evidence of ability to cope with its rival. Doubtless, also, the effect of Mr. Madison's attempt to explain away the marrow and substance of the famous resolutions, which told so injuriously against the State Rights party every where, contributed, at a still later day, to weaken that party in Kentucky; but the vital change in the political faith of Kentucky, was wrought by Henry Clay. All previous interruptions to the opinions which she had acquired as her birthright from Virginia, were but partial, and would have been ephemeral, but the spell which the great magician cast over his people was like the glamour of mediæval enchantment. It bound them in helpless but delighted acquiescence in the will of the master. Their vision informed them, not of objects as they were, but as he willed that they should seem, and his patients received, at his pleasure and with equal confidence, the true or the unreal. In fact, the undoubted patriotism and spotless integrity of Mr. Clay, so aided the effect of his haughty will and superb genius, that his influence amounted to fascination. Although himself, in early life, an advocate of the principles of (what has been since styled) the Jeffersonian school of Democracy, he became gradually, but thoroughly, weaned from his first opinions, and a convert to the dogmas of the school of politics which he had once so ably combatted. The author of the American System, the advocate of the United States Bank, the champion of the New England manufacturing and commercial interests, with their appropriate and necessary train of protective tariffs, bounties and monopolies, could have little sympathy with the ideas that the several States could, and should, protect and develope their own interests without Federal assistance, that the General Government was the servant of all the States and not the guardian and dry nurse of a few—the doctrine, in short, of "State Sovereignty and Federal Agency." Mr. Clay fairly and emphatically announced his political faith in word and deed. He declared that he "owed a paramount allegiance to the whole Union: a subordinate one to his own State," and, throughout the best part of his long political life, he wrought faithfully for interests distinct from, if not adverse to, those of his own State and section. His influence, however, in his own State, has determined, perhaps forever, her destiny. If he did not educate the people of Kentucky (as has been so often charged) to "defer principle to expediency," he at least taught them to study the immediate policy rather than the ultimate effect of every measure that they were called to consider, and to seek the material prosperity of the hour at the expense, even, of future safety. He taught his generation to love the Union, not as an "agency" through which certain benefits were to be derived, but as an "end" which was to be adhered to, no matter what results flowed from it.

Mr. Clay sincerely believed that in the union of the States resided the surest guarantees of the safety, honor, and prosperity of each, and he contemplated with horror and aversion any thought of disunion. His own lofty and heroic nature could harbor no feeling which was not manly and brave, but, in striving to stimulate and fortify in his people the same love of union which he entertained himself, he taught many Kentuckians to so dread the evils of war, as to lose all fear of other and as great evils, and to be willing to purchase exemption from civil strife by facile and voluntary submission. After the death of Mr. Clay, Kentucky, no longer subjected to his personal influence, began to forget it.

In 1851, John C. Breckinridge had been elected to Congress from Mr. Clay's district, while the latter still lived, and beating one of his warmest friends and supporters. Under the leadership of Mr. Breckinridge, the Democratic party in Kentucky rallied and rapidly gained ground. During the "Know-nothing" excitement, the old Whigs, who had nearly all joined the Know-nothing or American party, seemed about to regain their ascendency, but that excitement ebbing as suddenly as it had arisen, left the Democracy in indisputable power. In 1856, Kentucky cast her Presidential vote for Buchanan and Breckinridge by nearly seven thousand majority. Mr. Breckinridge's influence had, by this time, become predominant in the State, and was felt in every election. The troubles in Kansas and the agitation in Congress had rendered the Democratic element in Kentucky more determined, and inclined them more strongly to take a Southern view of all the debated questions. The John Brown affair exasperated her people in common with that of every other slaveholding community, and led to the organization of the State-guard.

Created because of the strong belief that similar attempts would be repeated, and upon a larger scale, and that, quite likely, Kentucky would be selected as a field of operations, it is not surprising that the State-guard should have expected an enemy only from the North, whence, alone, would come the aggressions it was organized to resist, and that it should have conceived a feeling of antagonism for the Northern, and an instinctive sympathy for the Southern, people.

These sentiments were intensified by the language of the Northern press and pulpit, and the commendation and encouragement of such enterprises as the Harper's Ferry raid, which were to be heard throughout the North.

In the Presidential election of 1860, the Kentucky Democracy divided on Douglas and Breckinridge, thereby losing the State. After the election of Mr. Lincoln and the passage of ordinances of secession by several Southern States, when the most important question which the people of Kentucky had ever been required to determine, was presented for their consideration, their sentiments and wishes were so various and conflicting, as to render its decision by themselves impossible, and it was finally settled for them by the Federal Government.

The Breckinridge wing of the Democracy was decidedly Southern in feelings and opinions, and anxious to espouse the Southern cause.

The Douglas wing strongly sympathized with the South, but opposed secession and disunion.

The Bell-Everett party, composed chiefly of old Clay Whigs, was decidedly in favor of Union. Such was the attitude of parties, with occasional individual exceptions. The very young men of the State were generally intense Southern sympathizers, and were, with few exceptions, connected with the State-guard. Indeed, divided as were the people of Kentucky at that time, sympathy with the Southern people was prevalent among all classes of them, and the conviction seemed to be strong, even in the most determined opponents of secession, that an attack upon the Southern people was an attack upon themselves. Among the Union men it was common to hear such declarations as that "When it becomes a direct conflict between North and South, we will take part with the South," "The Northern troops shall not march over our soil to invade the South," "When it becomes apparent that the war is an abolition crusade, and waged for the destruction of slavery, Kentucky will arm against the Government," etc.; each man had some saving clause with his Unionism. It is no hazardous assertion that the Union party, in Kentucky, condemned the secession of the Southern States, more because it was undertaken without consultation with them, and because they regarded it as a blow at Kentucky's dignity and comfort, than because it endangered "the national life." Certainly not one of the leading politicians of that party would have dared, in the winter and spring of 1861, to have openly advocated coercion, no matter what were his secret views of its propriety.

Upon the 17th February, 1861, the Legislature met in extra session at the summons of Governor Magoffin. Seven Southern States had seceded, the Confederate Government had been inaugurated, and it was time for the people of Kentucky to understand what they were going to do. The Governor addressed a message to the Legislature advising the call of a State Convention. This the Legislature declined to do, but suggested the propriety of the assembling of a National Convention to revise and correct the Federal Constitution, and recommended the "Peace Conference," which was subsequently held at Washington. In certain resolutions passed by this Legislature, in reference to resolutions passed by the States of Maine, New York and Massachusetts, this language occurs: "The Governor of the State of Kentucky is hereby requested to inform the executives of said States, that it is the opinion of this General Assembly that whenever the authorities of these States shall send armed forces to the South for the purpose indicated in said resolutions, the people of Kentucky, uniting with their brethren of the South, will as one man, resist such invasion of the soil of the South, at all hazards and to the last extremity." Rather strong language for "Union" men and a "loyal" legislature to use. It would seem that Kentucky, at that time, supposed herself a "sovereign" State addressing other "sovereign" States, and that she entirely ignored the "Nation." Her Legislature paid as little attention to the "proper channel of communication" as a militia Captain would have done. The Union men who voted for the resolutions in which this language was embodied, would be justly liable to censure, if it were not positively certain that they were insincere; and that they were insincere is abundantly proven by their subsequent action, and the fact that many of them held commissions in the "armed forces" sent to invade the South. On the 11th of February the Legislature resolved, "That we protest against the use of force or coercion by the General Government against the seceded States, as unwise and inexpedient, and tending to the destruction of our common country."

At the Union State Convention, held at Louisville on the 8th of January, certain amendments to the Constitution of the United States were "recommended," and it was resolved, "that, if the disorganization of the present Union is not arrested, that the States agreeing to these amendments of the Federal Constitution shall form a separate Confederacy, with power to admit new States under our glorious Constitution thus amended;" it was resolved also that it was "expedient to call a convention of the border free and slave States," and that "we deplore the existence of a Union to be held together by the sword."

It almost takes a man's breath away to write such things about the most loyal men of the loyal State of Kentucky. For a Union Convention to have passed them, and Union men to have indorsed them, the resolutions whose substance has been just given, have rather a strange sound. They ring mightily like secession.

"If the disorganization of the present Union is not arrested," the Union men of Kentucky would also help it along. A modified phrase much in vogue with them, "separate State action" expressed their "conservative" plan of seceding. Unless the proper distinctions are drawn, however, the action of this class of politicians will always be misunderstood. They indignantly condemned the secession of South Carolina and Georgia. No language was strong enough to express their abhorrence and condemnation of the wickedness of those who would inaugurate "the disorganization of the present Union." But they did not, with ordinary consistency,

"Compound for sins they were inclined to
By damning those they had no mind to!"

They committed the same sin under another name, and advocated the "separate Confederacy" of "the border free and slave States," under our glorious Constitution thus amended.

"Orthodoxy," was their "doxy;" "Heterodoxy," was "another man's doxy." Every candid man, who remembers the political status of Kentucky at that period, will admit that the Union party propounded no definite and positive creed, and that its leaders frequently gave formal expression to views which strangely resembled the "damnable heresies of secession." Indeed, the neglect of the seceding States to "consult Kentucky," previously to having gone out, seemed to be, in the eyes of these gentlemen, not so much an aggravation of the crime of secession, as, in itself, a crime infinitely graver. There were many who would condemn secession, and in the same breath indicate the propriety of "co-operation." These subtle distinctions, satisfactory, doubtless, to the intellects which generated them, were not aptly received by common minds, and their promulgation induced, perhaps very unjustly, a very general belief that the Union party was actuated not more by a love of the Union, than by a salutary regard for personal security and comfort. It seemed that the crime was not in "breaking up the Union," but in going about it in the wrong way.

The people of Kentucky heard, it is true, from these leaders indignant and patriotic denunciations of "secession," and, yet, they could listen to suggestions amounting almost to advocacy, from the same lips, of "central confederacies" or "co-operations."

Is it surprising, then, that no very holy horror of disunion should have prevailed in Kentucky?

But any inclination to tax these gentlemen with inconsistency should be checked by the reflection that they were surrounded by peculiar circumstances. It appeared to be by no means certain, just then, that an attempt would be made to coerce the seceding States, or that the Southern Confederacy would not be established without a war. In that event, Kentucky would have glided naturally and certainly into it, and Kentucky politicians who had approved coercion, would have felt uncomfortable as Confederate citizens. The leaders of the Union party were men of fine ability, but they were not endowed with prescience, nor could they in the political chaos then ruling, instinctively detect the strong side. Let it be remembered that, just so soon as they discerned it, they enthusiastically embraced it and clave to it, with a few immaterial oscillations, through much tribulation. As was explained by one of the most distinguished among them (in the United States Senate), it was necessary to "educate the people of Kentucky to loyalty." It is true that in this educational process, which was decidedly novel and peculiar, many Kentuckians, not clearly seeing the object in view, were made rebels, and even Confederate soldiers, although not originally inclined that way.

But it is seldom that a perfectly new and original system works smoothly, and the "educators" made amends for all their errors by inflexible severity toward the rebels who staid at home, and by "expatriating" and confiscating the property of those who fled. A "States Rights Convention" was called to assemble at Frankfort on the 22nd of March, 1861, but adjourned, having accomplished nothing.

After the fall of Fort Sumpter and the issuing of the proclamation of April 15, 1861, Governor Magoffin responded to President Lincoln's call for troops from Kentucky in the following language:

"Frankfort, April 16, 1861.

"Hon. Simon Cameron, Secretary of War;

"Your dispatch is received. In answer, I say, emphatically, that Kentucky will furnish no troops for the wicked purpose of subduing her sister Southern States.

"B. Magoffin, Governor of Kentucky."

Governor Magoffin then a second time convened the Legislature in extra session, to consider means for putting the State in a position for defense. When the Legislature met, it resolved,

"That the act of the Governor in refusing to furnish troops or military force upon the call of the Executive authority of the United States, under existing circumstances, is approved." Yeas, eighty-nine; nays, four.

On the 18th of April a large Union meeting was held at Louisville, at which the most prominent and influential Union men of the State assisted. Resolutions were adopted,

"That as the Confederate States have, by overt acts, commenced war against the United States, without consultation with Kentucky and their sister Southern States, Kentucky reserves to herself the right to choose her own position; and that while her natural sympathies are with those who have a common interest in the protection of slavery, she still acknowledges her loyalty and fealty to the Government of the United States, which she will cheerfully render until that Government becomes aggressive, tyrannical, and regardless of our rights in slave property;" Resolved,

"That the National Government should be tried by its acts, and that the several States, as its peers in their appropriate spheres, will hold it to a rigid accountability, and require that its acts should be fraternal in their efforts to bring back the seceded States, and not sanguinary or coercive."

The Senate resolved, just before the adjournment of the Legislature, that "Kentucky will not sever her connection with the National Government, nor take up arms for either belligerent party; but arm herself for the preservation of peace within her borders."

This was the first authoritative declaration of the policy of "Neutrality," which, however, had been previously indicated at a Union meeting held at Louisville on the 10th of April, in the following resolutions:

"That as we oppose the call of the President for volunteers for the purpose of coercing the seceded States, so we oppose the raising of troops in this State to co-operate with the Southern Confederacy."

"That the present duty of Kentucky is to maintain her present independent position, taking sides, not with the Administration nor with the seceding States, but with the Union against them both, declaring her soil to be sacred from the hostile tread of either, and, if necessary, to make the declaration good with her strong right arm."

In other words, Kentucky would remain in the Union, but would refuse obedience to the Government of the United States, and would fight its armies if they came into her territory. Was it much less "criminal" and "heretical" to do this than to "take sides with the seceding States?"

What is the exact shade of difference between the guilt of a State which transfers its fealty from the Union to a Confederacy, and that of a State which declares her positive and absolute independence, entering into no new compacts, but setting at defiance the old one? Where was the boasted "loyalty" of the Union men of Kentucky when they indorsed the above given resolutions?

In May of that year, the Louisville Journal, the organ of the Union party of Kentucky, said, in reference to the response which it was proper for Kentucky to make to the President's call for troops: "In our judgment, the people of Kentucky have answered this question in advance, and the answer expressed in every conceivable form of popular expression, and finally, clinched by the glorious vote of Saturday, is; arm Kentucky efficiently, but rightfully, and fairly, with the clear declaration that the arming is not for offense against either the Government or the seceding States, but purely for defense against whatever power sets hostile foot upon the actual soil of the Commonwealth. In other words, the Legislature, according to the manifest will of the people, should declare the neutrality of Kentucky in this unnatural and accursed war of brothers, and equip the State for the successful maintenance of her position at all hazards?"

It is well known that loyalty means unqualified, unconditional, eternal devotion and adherence to the Union, with a prompt and decorous acquiescence in the will and action of the Administration. Although a definition of the term has been frequently asked, and many have affected not to understand it, it is positively settled that every man is a traitor who doubts that this definition is the correct one. It is impossible, then, to avoid the conviction that in the year 1861, there was really no loyalty in the State of Kentucky. A good deal was subsequently contracted for, and a superior article was furnished the Government a few months later.

Had their been during the winter and spring of 1861, a resolute and definite purpose upon the part of the Southern men of Kentucky, to take the State out of the Union; had those men adopted, organized and determined action, at any time previously to the adjournment of the Legislature, on the 24th of April, the Union party of Kentucky would have proven no material obstacle.

The difficulty which was felt to be insuperable by all who approved the secession of Kentucky, was her isolated position. Not only did the long hesitation of Virginia and Tennessee effectually abate the ardor and resolution of the Kentuckians who desired to unite their State to the Southern Confederacy, but while it lasted it was an insurmountable, physical barrier in the way of such an undertaking. With those States antagonistic to the Southern movement, it would have been madness for Kentucky to have attempted to join it. When at length, Virginia and Tennessee passed their ordinances of secession, Kentucky had become infatuated with the policy of "neutrality." With the leaders of the Union party, it had already been determined upon as part of their system for the "education" of the people. The Secessionists, who were without organization and leaders, regarded it as something infinitely better than unconditional obedience to the orders and coercive policy of the Federal Government; and the large class of the timid and irresolute of men, who are by nature "neutral" in times of trouble and danger, accepted it joyfully, as such men always accept a compromise which promises to relieve them of immediate responsibility and the necessity of hazardous decision. Disconnected from the views and intentions of those who consented to it, this "neutrality" will scarcely admit of serious discussion. Such a position is certainly little else than rebellion, and the principle or conditions which will justify it, will also justify secession. If a State has the legal and constitutional right to oppose the action, and to refuse compliance with the requisitions of the Federal Government, to disobey the laws of Congress, and set at defiance the proclamations of the Executive, to decide for herself her proper policy in periods of war and insurrection, and levy armed forces to prevent the occupation of her territory by the forces of the United States, then she can quit the Union when she pleases, and is competent to contract any alliance which accords, with her wishes. If, however, it be a revolutionary right which she may justly exercise in a certain condition of affairs, then the same condition of affairs will justify any other phase or manner of revolution.

The practical effects of such a position, had it been stubbornly maintained, would have been to involve Kentucky in more danger than she would have incurred by secession and admission into the Confederacy. A declaration of neutrality in such a contest was almost equivalent to a declaration of war against both sides; at any rate it was a proclamation of opposition to the Government, while it discarded the friendship of the South, and seemed at once to invite every assailant. The Government of the United States, which was arming to coerce seceded States, would certainly not permit its designs to be frustrated by this attitude of Kentucky, and it was not likely that the States, about to be attacked, would respect a neutrality, which they very well knew would be no hindrance to their adversary. But few men reason clearly in periods of great excitement, or, in situations of peril, look steadfastly and understandingly at the dangers which surround them. Nor, it may be added, do the few who possess the presence of mind to study and the faculty of appreciating the signs of such a political tempest, always honestly interpret them. As has been said, a large class eagerly welcomed the decision that Kentucky should remain neutral in the great struggle impending, as a relief, however temporary, from the harassing consideration of dangers at which they shuddered. Nine men out of ten, will shrink from making up their minds upon a difficult question, and yet will accept, with joy, a determination of it, however paltry and inconclusive, from any one who has the nerve to urge it. A great many Union men, who would have earnestly opposed a concurrence of Kentucky in the action of the seceding States, if for no other reason than that they regarded it as "a trick of the Democratic party," and yet as obstinately opposed the policy and action of the Government, thought they perceived in "neutrality" a solution of all the difficulties which embarrassed them. A few of the more sagacious and resolute of the leaders of the Union party, who were perhaps not incommoded with a devotion to their State, their section, or to the "flag," but who realized that they could get into power only by crushing the Democratic party, and knew that in the event of Kentucky's going South, the Democratic party would dominate in the State, these men saw in this policy of neutrality the means of holding Kentucky quiet, until the Government could prepare and pour into her midst an overwhelming force. They trusted, and as the sequel showed, with reason, that they would be able to demoralize their opponents after having once reduced them to inaction. The Kentuckians who wished that their State should become a member of the Confederacy, but who saw no immediate hope of it, consented to neutrality as the best arrangement that they could make under the circumstances. They knew that if the neutrality of Kentucky were respected—a vital portion of the Confederacy, a border of four or five hundred miles would be safe from attack and invasion—that the forces of the Confederacy could be concentrated for the defense of the other and threatened lines, and that individual Kentuckians could flock to the Southern army. They believed that in such a condition of affairs, more men would leave Kentucky to take part with the South than to enlist in the service of the Government.

Some time in the early part of the summer, General S.B. Buckner, commanding the Kentucky State-guard, had an interview with General Geo. B. McClellan, who commanded a department embracing territory contiguous to Kentucky—if, indeed, Kentucky was not included by the commission given him in his department. General Buckner obtained, as he supposed, a guarantee that the neutrality of Kentucky would be observed by the military authorities of the United States. He communicated the result of this interview to Governor Magoffin, and, immediately, it became a matter of official as well as popular belief that the neutrality of Kentucky was safe for all time to come.

The dream, however, was a short one, and very soon afterward the Federal Government commenced to recruit in Kentucky, to establish camps and organize armed forces in the State.

"Camp Dick Robinson," some twenty-six miles from Lexington, was the largest, first formed, and most noted of these establishments. For many weeks the Kentuckians were in a high state of excitement about "Camp Dick," as it was called. They used the name as if it were synonymous with the Federal army, and spoke of the rumors that "Camp Dick" was to be moved from point to point, as glibly as if the ground it occupied had possessed the properties of the flying carpet of the fairy tale.

The Legislature, notwithstanding its high-sounding resolutions about neutrality, stood this very quietly, although many citizens (Union men) endeavored to have these camps broken up and the troops removed. Others, again, professed to desire that the Federal troops should be removed, but clandestinely advised President Lincoln to rather increase than withdraw the forces, and offered their services to introduce into Kentucky guns for the armament of the loyal Home-guards. These men were of the class of "Educators." But the game required two to play it. On the 4th of September, in anticipation of a Federal movement upon that point, General Polk, of the Confederate army, occupied Columbus, in Kentucky.

In the midst of the excitement created by the information of the occupation of Columbus, Governor Magoffin sent in the following message:

"Ex. Dep't, Frankfort, Sept. 9, 1861.
"Gentlemen of the Senate and House of Representatives:

"I have received the following dispatches by telegraph from General Leonidas Polk, which I deem proper to lay before you,

"B. Magoffin."

[If any answer were needed to the outcries of those who so strongly condemned his action, General Polk certainly furnished it. His first dispatch was a simple intimation to Governor Magoffin of his presence upon the soil of Kentucky, and of the authority by which he remained.]

"Columbus, Kentucky, Sept. 9, 1861.
"Governor B. Magoffin:

A military necessity having required me to occupy this town, I have taken possession of it by the forces under my command. The circumstances leading to this act we reported promptly to the President of the Confederate States. His reply was, the necessity justified the action. A copy of my proclamation I have the honor to transmit you by mail.

"Respectfully,
"Leonidas Polk, Major-General Commanding."

In a letter of the same date, inclosing his proclamation, General Polk said, after explaining the cause of his delay in writing:

"It will be sufficient to inform you, which my short address here will do, that I had information, on which I could rely, that the Federal forces intended, and were preparing, to seize Columbus. I need not describe the danger resulting to West Tennessee from such success, nor say that I could not permit the loss of so important a position, while holding the command intrusted to me by my government. In evidence of the information I possessed, I will state that as the Confederate forces occupied this place, the Federal troops were formed, in formidable numbers, in position upon the opposite bank, with their cannon turned upon Columbus. The citizens of the town had fled with terror, and not a word of assurance of safety or protection had been addressed to them."

General Polk concluded with this language:

"I am prepared to say that I will agree to withdraw the Confederate troops from Kentucky, provided that she will agree that the troops of the Federal Government be withdrawn simultaneously; with a guarantee, which I will give reciprocally for the Confederate Government, that the Federals shall not be allowed to enter, or occupy any point of Kentucky in the future.

"I have the honor to be
"Your obedient servant, respectfully,
"Leonidas Polk, Major-Gen, Com."

General Folk's proclamation was as follows:

"Columbus, Sept. 14, 1861.

"The Federal Government having in defiance of the wishes of the people of Kentucky, disregarded their neutrality, by establishing camps and depots of arms, and by organizing military companies within their territory, and by constructing a military work, on the Missouri shore, immediately opposite, and commanding Columbus, evidently intended to cover the landing of troops for the seizure of the town, it has become a military necessity, worth the defense of the territory of the Confederate States, that the Confederate forces occupy Columbus in advance. The Major-General commanding has, therefore, not felt himself at liberty to risk the loss of so important a position, but has decided to occupy it. In pursuance of this decision, he has thrown a sufficient force into the town and ordered fortifying it. It is gratifying to know that the presence of his troops is acceptable to the people of Columbus, and on this occasion they assure them that every precaution will be taken to insure their quiet, the protection of their property, with their personal and corporate rights.

Leonidas Polk."

Dispatches, concerning the peculiar manner in which Kentucky observed her neutrality and permitted it to be observed by her Federal friends, began to pour in on the Governor about this time. He had already received, on the 7th, a dispatch from Lieutenant Governor Reynolds, of Missouri, on the subject. Governor Reynolds stated that, "The Mississippi river below the mouth of the Ohio, is the property of Kentucky and Missouri conjointly." He then alluded to the "presence of United States gunboats in the river at Columbus, Kentucky, to protect the forces engaged in fortifying the Missouri shore immediately opposite." "This," he went on to say, "appears to me to be a clear violation of the neutrality Kentucky proposes to observe in the present war." And then again on the 14th came a dispatch from Knoxville, Tennessee, as follows:

"To his Excellency B. Magoffin:

Sir: The safety of Tennessee requiring, I occupy the mountain passes at Cumberland, and the three long mountains in Kentucky. For weeks I have known that the Federal commander at Hoskin's Cross Roads was threatening the invasion of East Tennessee, and ruthlessly urging our own people to destroy their own road bridges. I postponed this precaution until the despotic Government at Washington, refusing to recognize the neutrality of Kentucky, has established formidable camps in the center and other parts of the State, with the view first to subjugate our gallant sister, then ourselves. Tennessee feels, and has ever felt, toward Kentucky as a twin sister; their people, are as our people in kindred, sympathy, valor, and patriotism; we have felt and still feel a religious respect for Kentucky's neutrality; we will respect it as along as our safety will permit. If the Federal forces will now withdraw from their menacing positions, the forces under my command shall be immediately withdrawn.

Very respectfully,
F.K. Zollicoffer,
Brigadier General Commanding."

It would seem that each one of these communications put the case very clearly, and that, Kentucky having permitted her neutrality to be violated by the one side, after her emphatic and definite declaration that it was meant to be good against both, could consistently take no action, unless it should be such as Generals Polk and Zollicoffer suggested, viz: to provide for a simultaneous withdrawal of both Federal and Confederate forces. Certainly Kentucky meant that neither of the combatants should occupy her soil—as has been shown, her declarations upon that head were clear and vigorous. If she intended that troops of the United States should come into her territory, for any purpose whatever, while the Confederate forces should be excluded, it is unnecessary to say that she selected in "neutrality" a word, which very inaccurately and lamely expressed her meaning. The people of Kentucky had long since—two months at least, a long time in such a period, before this correspondence between their Governor and the Confederate Generals—ceased to do anything but blindly look to certain leaders, and blindly follow their dictation. The Southern men of the State, and their peculiar leaders, were sullen and inert; the mass of the people were bewildered, utterly incompetent to arrive at a decision, and were implicitly led by the Legislature to which all the politicians, who aspired to influence, now resorted. In view of the history of this neutrality, of the professions made, only a few weeks previously, by the same men who returned an answer from the Capital of Kentucky to the propositions of the Confederate authorities that Kentucky should act fairly, and not declare one policy and clandestinely pursue another—in view of the facts which are fastened in the record—what sort of men does that answer prove them to have been? This was the answer:

"Resolved, By the General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Kentucky that his Excellency, Governor Magoffin, be, and he is hereby instructed to inform those concerned, that Kentucky expects the Confederate or Tennessee troops to be withdrawn from her soil unconditionally."

This, after a pledge to their own people, and a proclamation to both sections, of neutrality! After Federal troops, and Federal encampments had been for weeks upon the soil of Kentucky, and in response to action (which their own had invited) from men (to whom they had promised assistance in just such a contingency as was then upon them), when they resolved the previous January, that Governor Magoffin should inform the Governors of New York, Maine and Massachusetts, that when Northern troops should march to invade the South, "the people of Kentucky, uniting with their brethren of the South, will as one man resist such invasion of the soil of the South, at all hazards, and to the last extremity!" The Committee on Federal Relations, to which was referred the communications addressed to Governor Magoffin, exerted itself to outdo the resolutions given above, and reported resolutions of which the substance was, that as Kentucky had been invaded by the Confederate forces, and the commanders of said forces had "insolently prescribed the conditions upon which they will withdraw;" "that the invaders must be expelled, inasmuch as there are now in Kentucky Federal troops assembled for the purpose of preserving the tranquillity of the State, and of defending and preserving the people of Kentucky in the peaceful enjoyment of their lives and property." A candid confession, truly, and one which it required nerve to make! Brave, honorable, consistent men—fit to be the guardians of a people's honor! Declare neutrality, and warn both combatants off the soil of their State! proclaim that Kentucky can and will take care of herself, and then coolly resolve, when the issue is made, "that as there are now Federal troops in Kentucky, for the purpose," etc., that the mask shall be thrown off, and deception no longer practiced. But the cup of shame was not yet full; this unblushing Legislature passed yet other resolutions, to publish to the world the duplicity and dissimulation which had characterized their entire conduct. After going on to set forth the why and wherefore Kentucky had assumed neutrality, it was resolved, "that when the General Government occupies our soil for its defense, in pursuance of a constitutional right, it neither compromises our assumed neutrality, nor gives the right to the Confederate forces to invade our State on the assumption that our neutrality has been violated, especially when they first set foot upon our soil upon the plea of military necessity."

"That when the General Government occupies our soil for its defense, it neither compromises our assumed neutrality," etc. Well! it is useless to attempt comment on this—"it is impossible to do the subject justice." We rebels never contended that the Government was bound to respect Kentucky's neutrality, if it had the right to coerce the seceded States. We denied the constitutional right and power of coercion—but if the Government had that power, we conceded that there was the same right and reason to employ it against Kentucky's neutrality as against South Carolina's secession. But for the neutrality-mongers to say this—were they generously striving to fool themselves also? And, then, in hearing, as they had been for weeks, of the morning and evening guns of "Camp Dick Robinson," to speak of the Confederates having "first set foot upon our soil." Is it an unfair construction of such conduct, to suppose that the men guilty of it were, in part, time-servers, who had striven all the while to get upon the strong and safe side, and believed that they had succeeded, and, in part, politicians unscrupulous, if in plan consistent, who had deliberately deceived the people of Kentucky, and lulled them into a condition in which they would receive the handcuffs, to be slipped upon them, without resistance?

But now that the men of purpose saw that it was no longer necessary to conceal it, and the wavering had become satisfied which side it was safe and politic to adopt, there was no more dallying.

The Legislature prepared to finally crush the State-guard and "an act to enlarge the powers of the Military Board of this State," was passed. It was enacted, "That the Military Board created at the last session of the Legislature, are hereby authorized to order into the custody of said Board any State arms which may have been given out under the act creating said Board, or other law of the State, whenever said Board shall deem it expedient to do so; said Board shall have like power over the accouterments, camp equipage, equipments, and ammunition of the State." Willful failure or refusal "to return any of said property for forty-eight hours after the receipt of the order of the Board to that effect," was made a high misdemeanor, and punishable by fine of not less than one nor more than five thousand dollars, and imprisonment until the fine was paid, and the arms or other property restored. The removal, concealment, or disposal of any of the property, mentioned in the first section of the act, was made felony and punishable by not less than one nor more than two years in the penitentiary. A further resolution in the spirit of the same kind of neutrality was approved September 23rd, "That the Military Board be and they are hereby authorized to place any portion of the arms, accouterments, equipments, camp equipage, baggage trains, ammunition, and military stores of the State, not in use, under the control of the commander of the Federal forces in Kentucky," etc.

Having once gotten on the right track (as they were compelled to believe it, inasmuch as it was clearly the one which conducted to immediate profit and safety) these gentlemen thought they could not go too fast. "The people were educated to loyalty," now, and it was high time to commence the punishment of those who had shown an inaptness to receive the lessons, or a distaste for the method of instruction. The dignity of Kentucky had been sacrificed by the avarice and cowardice of her own sons, who sat in her councils—this is the way in which those legislative-panders sought to assert it again. They passed an act entitled "an act to prohibit and prevent rebellion by citizens of Kentucky and others in this State." By this act it was provided that any citizen of this State, who as a soldier or officer of the Confederate army, should, as part of an armed force, enter the State to make war upon it, should be punished by confinement in the penitentiary. "Making war upon the State," doubtless meant any attack made upon the "Federal soldiers assembled" (in the State) "for the purpose of preserving the tranquillity of the State." And it was farther enacted that, "any person who shall, within the limits of this State, persuade or induce any person to enlist or take service in the army of the so-called Confederate States, and the persons so persuaded or induced does enlist or take service in the same, shall be deemed guilty of a high misdemeanor and upon conviction, shall be fined in a sum not exceeding one thousand dollars, and imprisonment not exceeding six months." Whether, in passing this act, the Legislature of Kentucky was treating a question involving belligerent rights, is a matter for lawyers to pass upon; but that it was disgracing the State is patent. Such action might have been proper and competent—against both belligerents—had Kentucky adopted it as a measure necessary to the maintenance of her neutrality. It would have been, at least, dignified, had she earnestly and unequivocally declared, from the beginning, an adherence to the Government, and a resolution to support its policy.

But under all the circumstances, and after the repeated declarations of its authors that, to resist coercion, the very measures ought to be taken (for the punishment of which this act was now passed), it is difficult to stigmatize, with appropriate emphasis, such conduct.

The lapse of time has mitigated the hostility of the actual combatants, but has only intensified the contempt, and deepened the distrust which the people of Kentucky feel for these men.

The sincere Union men of Kentucky, and the men who sincerely sympathized with the Southern movement and the Southern people, can mutually respect each other. The Kentucky soldiers, who fought against each other in the contending armies, can appreciate and admire the devotion to the chosen cause, the gallantry which each displayed. But for the men who showed so plainly by that they were attached to no cause and no principle, but were ready to sell and barter each and all, who manifested all through the struggle, that they were moved by the most groveling ambition, influenced by the meanest thirst for self-aggrandisement—for them there is no forgiveness.

All Kentucky has suffered from their duplicity, cowardice and heartless avarice of gold and power—now they have neither, and none regret it.

But, happily, the past political differences, and the animosity engendered by the long, bitter strife, are fast being forgotten by the Kentuckians who confronted each other under hostile banners. The sons of the same Mother Commonwealth (who in all sincerity gave their blood for her interests, safety and honor, as each believed they could be best conserved), are no longer antagonists—and, at no distant day, may find the respect they have felt for each other as foes, replaced by the cordial friendship and alliance, which the same blood and the same views should induce. May Kentucky have learned from her lesson in the past few years, and may she remember, that safety is never best consulted by giving heed to the suggestions of timidity, that the manliest and most consistent course, is also the most truly expedient, and that the interest and honor of a people go hand-in-hand, and are inseparable.

CHAPTER IV

When General Albert Sidney Johnson came to the command of the great Western Department, he found but a few thousand troops at his disposal to defend a territory of immense extent, and vulnerable at a hundred points.

At that time the Trans-Mississippi Confederate States were included in the same Department with the States of Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi. Missouri on the Western side of the Mississippi, and Kentucky on the Eastern—respectively the Northernmost of the Western and Middle Slaveholding States—were debatable ground, and were already occupied, the former by both, the latter by one of the contending forces.

General Johnson assumed command about the latter part of August, or first of September, 1861, and at once commenced his vast labor with a vigor and wisdom which were neither appreciated by his countrymen, nor were fruitful of happy results until after his glorious death. Missouri had become the theater of military operations some months previously. The people had partially responded to the proclamation of Governor Jackson, issued June 12, 1861, which called on them to resist the military authorities appointed in the State by President Lincoln.

Smarting under a sense of the aggressions and the insolence of these officials, believing that they were the victims of intolerable injustice and flagrant faithlessness, the Missouri rebels were eager to take the field, and irregular organizations, partisan, and "State-guard" were formed in various sections of the State. Several skirmishes, the most important of which were "Booneville" and "Carthage," occurred between these organizations and the Federal troops, before any troops regularly in the Confederate service were sent into the State. After winning the battle of "Carthage," and forcing Siegel to retreat until he affected a junction with Lyon, General Price was compelled, in his turn, to retreat before the then concentrated Federal army of Missouri.

On the 7th of August, Generals Price and McCullough, commanding respectively such portions of the Missouri State-guard as could be concentrated at that time, and the Confederate troops destined for service in the extreme West, making an aggregate, between them, of some six thousand effective men, established themselves in the vicinity of Springfield, a small town in Southwestern Missouri, confronting the Federal army which had pushed on to that point in pursuit of Price. On the 9th of August, the battle, called by the one side "Oak Hill," and by the other "Wilson's Creek," was fought. The Federal army made the attack, was repulsed and routed (with the exception of that portion of it commanded by Sturges, or protected by him in the retreat), and its commander, General Lyon, was killed. This victory laid open, and placed completely at the disposal of the Rebel commanders, the southwestern and middle portions of the State. Unhappily Generals Price and McCullough differed totally in opinion regarding the proper policy to be pursued after the battle, and the result of their disagreement was a separation of their forces. Price pushed forward into the interior of Missouri, where he believed that the fruits of the Victory just gained were to be gleaned. McCullough remained upon the Arkansas border. The campaign which General Price then made is well known. He captured Lexington, taking a large number of prisoners, and, what was much more valuable to him, a considerable quantity of military stores, many stand of small arms, and some artillery. He placed himself in a position to enable the scattered detachments of his State-guard to join him, and, encouraging the people, friendly to the South, by his bold advance into the heart of the State immediately after they had received the news of the victory he had helped to win, he obtained recruits and abundant supplies. He was subsequently compelled to retreat before a vastly superior force, but not until, taking into consideration the means at his disposal, he had accomplished wonders. Not only were his men perfectly raw, upon their first campaign, but no attempt was made to train or form them. Method, administration, discipline, drill, were utterly unknown in his camps; the officers knew only how to set a gallant example to their men; the men were rendered almost invincible by their native courage and the devotion they felt to their chief and their cause. Upon this campaign General Price exhibited, perhaps, more strikingly than ever afterward, his two great qualities as a commander—the faculty of acquiring the affection and implicit confidence of his men, and his own gallant and perfect reliance upon them. Without presuming to reflect upon General McCullough, who was a brave, honest, and zealous officer, it may be safely assumed that had Price, at this period, been backed by the force which McCullough commanded (much superior in equipment and organization to his own), he could have effected results which, in all probability, would have stamped a very different character upon the subsequent conduct of the war in the Trans-Mississippi States. The consequence of another such victory as that of "Oak Hill" gained in the heart of the State, as by their combined forces might very readily have been done, at the time when Price was forced to retreat, would have been of incalculable value to the Confederacy. But the fate, which throughout the contest, rendered Southern prowess unavailing, had already commenced to rule. At the date of the battle of "Oak Hill," General Hardee was advancing through Southeastern Missouri with about thirty-five hundred effective men.

His base was the little village of Pocahontas, situated, nearly upon the Missouri and Arkansas border, and at the head of navigation upon the Big Black river. Here General Hardee had collected all the Arkansas troops which were available for service upon that line, amounting to perhaps six or seven thousand men. Various causes contributed to reduce his effective total to about one half of that number. All of the troops were indifferently armed, some were entirely unarmed. The sickness always incidental to a first experience of camp life, in the infantry, had prostrated hundreds. Change of diet and of habits, and the monotony of the camp are sufficient of themselves, and rarely fail to induce diseases among raw troops, but a scourge broke out among the troops collected at Pocahontas which confounded all, at least of the non-medical observers. This was nothing more than measles, but in an intensely aggravated and very dangerous form. It was hard to believe that there was such a proportion of adult men who had escaped a malady generally thought one of the affections of childhood. It was so virulent, at the time and place of which I write, and in so many instances fatal, that many confidently believed it to be a different disease from the ordinary measles, although the Surgeons pronounced it the same. It was called "black measles," and was certainly a most malignant type of the disease. I have been since informed that it raged with equal fury and with the same characteristics among the volunteers just called into the field in many other localities. Its victims at Pocahontas were counted by the scores.

As the Big Black river is navigable for small craft at all seasons, General Hardee had no difficulty in supplying the troops stationed at Pocahontas, but after leaving that point he was compelled to depend for supplies upon wheel transportation, with which he was very indifferently provided, and upon the country, which was sterile and sparsely settled.

The only line of advance from Pocahontas which gave promise of important results, or which, indeed, was practicable, was by Greenville, distant some fifty-five or sixty miles from Pocahontas, and Frederickton, to Ironton, and thence along the Iron Mountain Railroad by the most practicable roads to St. Louis. The country between Pocahontas and Ironton is rugged and heavily wooded. It is penetrated by few roads, and, in 1861, by no means abounded in supplies. General Hardee advanced as far as Greenville, and threatened Ironton.

This latter place, the terminus of the Iron Mountain Railroad, is ninety-seven miles from St. Louis. It is a place of great natural strength, and was already, at the time that Hardee advanced toward it, partially fortified. General Hardee expected when he moved from Pocahontas to effect a junction with General Pillow at Frederickton, a small town to the east of north of Greenville, twenty miles from Ironton and on the line between that place and New Madrid. Pillow's force was six or eight thousand strong, and the best armed and accoutered of all the western Confederate commands.

General Pillow could very easily have reached Frederickton from New Madrid, as soon as Hardee could have gotten to the former place from Pocahontas, had there been a timely and definite understanding between them to that effect. And the united strength of the two Generals, with the addition of some two thousand of the State-guard, which were at hand under General Jeff. Thompson (as well armed and better organized than those which had already done such excellent service under Price), would have enabled them, most probably, to take Ironton. At any rate, by flanking and threatening to get between that place and St. Louis, they would certainly have compelled its evacuation, and then, either defeating the garrison in the open field, or driving it back in disorder and demoralization upon St. Louis, they would have become masters of the situation. They would have cut off and destroyed the defeated and routed army of Lyon, then in full flight for St. Louis.

General Price would have gladly embraced the opportunity of uniting with them—the whole State would have risen to join them. It is almost certain, when the number and condition of the Federal troops then in Missouri are taken into consideration, and the facts that but few troops were available from the neighboring States for the defense of St. Louis, and that the city was not fortified—it is almost positively certain, that St. Louis would have fallen into their hands, and that the entire State of Missouri, at least all South of the Missouri river, would have passed securely into their possession. At all events, General Hardee was extremely desirous of attempting just such a campaign.

It was deemed, however, more important, at that time, to occupy and fortify Columbus, in Kentucky, situated on the Mississippi river, some twenty-two miles below the mouth of the Ohio. This measure, it was thought, would protect the States lying along the Mississippi from invasion, by enabling the Confederates to hold the river, as it was by the river, only, that those States could be conveniently reached. General Pillow's forces were consequently ordered to that point. Finding that his plans were rendered impossible of execution, on account of the want of General Pillow's co-operation, Hardee returned to Pocahontas, and was shortly afterward transferred, with the greater portion of the troops under his command, to the eastern side of the river, and was ordered to Bowlinggreen as soon as that place was occupied. Up to the date of General Johnston's taking command, the chief difficulty in the way of action and decisive operations in the West (independently of the inferior number and miserable equipment of the troops) was the lack of uniformity and concert in the plans and operations of the various commanders. There was no one in supreme military control from whom the subordinate Generals could receive definite instructions, and orders which they felt obliged to obey. While an immense extent of country was included in one Department, and theoretically under one chief, yet practically every officer, no matter what was the strength or nature of his command, who happened not to be troubled with a senior immediately at his elbow, planned and acted for himself and with a perfect indifference to the operations of every one else. The President and Secretary of War were too distant to do any good, if such interference ever does any good, and a ruling mind was needed at the theater of events. It is true that General Polk, whose headquarters were at Memphis, was senior to the others, he being a Major-General, and all the rest but Brigadiers, and he was ostensibly in chief command and directed to a certain extent, the movements of all.

But, whether it was that, in a period when nothing was fairly organized, his authority was not clearly defined, or that he felt some hesitation in vigorously exercising it, it is certain that each of the Generals, who have been here mentioned, acted as if he knew himself to be, to all intents and purposes, in independent command.

This evil was completely remedied by the appointment to the chief command in the West of General Johnson, and the prompt and decided measures which he instituted. General Johnson's whole life had been one of the most thorough military training, and no officer of his years in the old army of the United States had seen more service; but more than that, he was a soldier by instinct, and Nature had intended him for military command.

He felt the full importance of careful preparation, and the establishment by order and system in every branch and department of the service. No martinet of the schools was ever more alive to the necessity of rigid method and exact discipline, for he knew that without their inauguration and strict observance, it would be impossible to even partially discharge the duties of his vast commission. But he also saw clearly the vital necessity of maintaining in tact the spirit which animated the men of his army, and which had summoned them into the field. He knew that to impair the ardor which had induced them to become soldiers was to destroy their morale; that to attempt to make them machines would result in making them worthless.

Although the troops at his disposal seriously needed instruction and more perfect organization, he did not waste precious moments in seeking to impart them then. He did not permit the high spirit of his gallant army to sink into lethargy, nor the interest which the people felt in the conduct of military affairs to abate by remaining inactive, and in a position which would reduce him, under all circumstances, to the defensive. A concentration of his forces any where upon the Tennessee border would not only have placed him at great strategic disadvantage, but would have been instantly accepted by the soldiery and the people as a signal of his intention to await the pleasure and movements of his adversary. Almost immediately after his arrival at Nashville, the troops which had collected at Camp Boone, the rendezvous of the Kentucky regiments, and the Tennessee troops which were available, were pushed into Kentucky. Kentucky's neutrality, for a time recognized provisionally, and so far as a discreet silence upon the subject amounted to recognition by the Federal Government, had already been exploded. The Government of the United States, having made the necessary preparations, was not disposed to abandon a line of invasion which led right to the vitals of the Confederacy, and promised a successful reduction of the rebellion in at least three of the seceded States, because of the partially rebellious attitude assumed by Kentucky.

Camp Dick Robinson had been organized and put into successful operation in July. General Anderson took command at Louisville on the 20th of September. The other portions of the state were occupied, and definite lines were established by the opposing forces, nearly about the same time. General Johnson advanced as far as Green river, making it his line of defense for his center, while his right rested on the Cumberland and the rugged ranges of its hills. His line might be said to extend from Columbus through Hopkinsville, Munfordsville and Somerset to the Virginia border somewhere in the vicinity of Pound Gap. The Federal forces were pushed down, almost simultaneously with General Johnson's advance to Green river, to Elizabethtown, and in a few days afterward to Nolin creek. Their line may be described as running almost directly from Paducah in the West, to Prestonburg in the East. This line gave them possession of the mouths of the Tennessee, Cumberland and Green rivers, of the Blue grass region, and of a greater share of the central and eastern portions of the State.

A single glance at the map will show the importance of Bowlinggreen as a strategic point. It will be seen that it is admirably adapted for a base of operations, offensive or defensive, in such a campaign as General Johnson was about to inaugurate at the time of its occupation. Situated upon the bank of the Barren river, it has that river and the Green river to protect it against attack from the front. The Barren river empties into the Green some twenty miles from and northwest of Bowlinggreen, and the Green flowing in a northwesterly direction, affords an admirable line of defense for many miles to the left. There are few fords and ferries of Green river after its junction with the Barren, and those which it has can be easily held. The danger of attack from the extreme left flank was guarded against, but as the result showed imperfectly, by Forts Henry and Donelson constructed respectively upon the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers. The one just upon, the other about ten miles from, the Kentucky and Tennessee border. As there was little danger to be apprehended in that direction, except from forces brought up those rivers and established in the rear of Bowlinggreen, these forts, whose strength was overrated, were thought to sufficiently protect that flank. The Cumberland river rising, in the mountains of Southeastern Kentucky, flows nearly due East and West and upon the same parallel of latitude on which Bowlinggreen is situated, until within sixty or seventy miles of that place, when it inclines to the Southwest. The Green river affords a line extending eastward, and defensible, beyond the point where the Cumberland begins to bend to the Southwest. At this point the two rivers are about thirty miles apart. The country throughout this section of the State is broken but accessible to the march of large bodies of troops. It is apparent, however, that an army, with Bowlinggreen for its base, unless immensely outnumbered, would have it in its power to take advantage of an opponent advancing upon Bowlinggreen by that route. Even if pressed in front, it could hold the river with detachments until with the bulk of its strength it struck the enemy coming from the East.

The line of march of the latter would render its communications, and concert of action with its friends, very difficult, and liable at any time to be entirely destroyed; while the General upon the defensive, if vigilant and active, could know the movements of both advancing columns, and attack either, with the mass of his army, when he pleased. Moreover, in the disposition of the Confederate forces, General Zollicoffer with some two or three thousand men, was stationed at Monticello, about ninety-five miles from Bowlinggreen, and a little to the south of east. Monticello is twenty-one miles from the Cumberland; all the neighboring fords were in Zollicoffer's possession, and his scouts explored the country for some distance beyond the river. It is plain that any hostile force moving upon Bowlinggreen by this eastern flank would have exposed itself to attack by Zollicoffer.

An army strong enough to hold all the approaches to Bowlinggreen might rest in perfect security regarding its communications. There is the railroad from Bowlinggreen to Clarksville, running through many important points, and affording communication with every thing upon that flank. Excellent roads run from Bowlinggreen to Monticello upon the south side of the Barren, affording secure communication with the right. Were both of these lines interrupted, there would remain means of certain and speedy communication with both flanks, in the railroad and turnpike running from Bowlinggreen to Nashville, the turnpike from Glasgow to Nashville, and the Cumberland river navigable to Fort Donelson on the one side and Burkesville on the other.

The country thus commanded is fertile, and almost exhaustless of supplies. The railroad from Bowlinggreen to Louisville, and the two turnpikes, respectively, from Bowlinggreen and from Glasgow to Louisville, and with which good roads running in every direction are connected, afford admirable facilities for offensive operations. These two turnpikes cross Green river within eight miles of each other, but an army, once on the north side of the river, and in possession of both roads, could march with perfect ease in any direction. It will scarcely be denied that if General Johnson had done nothing else to establish his high reputation as a strategist, his selection of this line would be enough to sustain it. In this advance into Kentucky, the Kentucky regiments under Buckner, about thirteen hundred strong in all, took the lead; the 2nd Kentucky infantry under Colonel Roger W. Hanson, to which were temporarily attached Byrne's battery of four pieces, and one company of Tennessee cavalry, was pushed on to Munfordsville on Green river. The rest of the Kentuckians and two or three thousand Tennesseeans (and some odds and ends) were stopped at Bowlinggreen.

All the cavalry which were available for that purpose, were sent to scout the country between the Cumberland and Green rivers, and subsequently Forrest's regiment was stationed at Hopkinsville, watching the country in that vicinity. Shortly after he was sent there, Forrest attacked and defeated at Sacramento, a little village not far from Hopkinsville, a regiment of Federal cavalry. This was the first cavalry fight in the west, and the Federals were completely routed.

Zollicoffer was sent to take position at Monticello, as has been described before, at or nearly about the same time of the advance to Bowlinggreen. Thus, it will be seen, that all the important points of the line were almost simultaneously occupied.

Columbus was occupied by General Polk, as has been stated, on the 4th, some days earlier.

It was generally believed that General Buckner, who, as has been already stated, led the van, would have had no difficulty in capturing Louisville had he pressed on. Very little doubt was entertained, then, of the adequacy of his command, small as it was, to have taken the place, and, I presume, no one doubts it now. An impression prevailed that General Buckner was strongly in favor of continuing his advance to Louisville, and that he urgently solicited permission to do so. But whether it was suggested or not, it found no favor with General Johnson. A plan to take and hold Louisville, without any provision for the occupation of other portions of Kentucky up to the Ohio river, would have been, to say the least, a very rash one, and at that time captures with a view only to temporary occupation were not in fashion. To hold the State, an army would have been required numerous enough to furnish strong garrisons for Paducah and Smithland, at the mouths of the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers, for the protection of the mouth of Green river for Carrollton, at the mouth of Kentucky river, for Louisville, Covington, and other points farther eastward. General Johnson could not have held Kentucky two months after he had occupied her northern territory (if he had taken possession of it) with the forces which he had at his disposal. He would either have had to establish the garrisons, which have been indicated, and provide the supporting force, or he would have been compelled to adopt another plan, perhaps more advisable, viz: to have organized three separate corps, one for the western, one for the middle, and the third for the eastern portion of the State, each charged with the defense of a certain length of river line, and so disposed as to be readily concentrated, at short notice, at any point upon it.

To properly carry into effect either plan, many more troops would have been required than General Johnson had—it would have been folly to have attempted either with his handful of men.

Another line in advance of that of the Green river, might have been taken, which would have secured additional and very valuable territory. General Johnson might have established one half of his army at Muldraugh's Hill, thirty miles from Louisville, and upon the Louisville and Nashville railroad, and the other half in the country about Lexington and Frankfort, and have thus obtained possession of the greater part of central Kentucky, and the Blue-grass region. The country between the point indicated upon the Louisville and Nashville railroad, and Frankfort, and also in front of the line thus drawn, is extremely rugged and difficult of access The hills of Salt river, the Benson and Chaplin Hills, and those of the Kentucky, present a barrier not easily forced. Directly in front, too, of Frankfort and Lexington, at a distance of from twenty to forty miles stretches a belt of broken and defensible ground from the Kentucky to the main fork of the Licking river, and on to the eastward.

A thorough tearing-up of the Louisville and Nashville railroad, which would deprive the enemy of the use of the Bardstown and Lebanon junctions, and the destruction of the Lexington and Louisville, and Lexington and Covington railroads, would have rendered this line secure against any attack from the front, while the excellent roads traversing the region lying just south of it, would have made communication easy between the salient positions. But the left flank and the main line of retreat and of communication with Nashville, would have been constantly and dangerously exposed.

These were all matters for a military chief to study; but far above all mere strategic considerations, was the moral effect of these movements, and that, it is certain, had been profoundly pondered by General Johnson. The idea of an advance to the Ohio, of occupying the entire slaveholding territory east of the Mississippi, of subsidizing all of its resources, of arousing and recruiting from its whole population, was very fascinating then, and opens a wide field for speculation now. But then there was the reverse of the picture to be considered. The unsettled, bewildered condition of the Kentucky mind, has already been described. There were many who confidently predicted that the Kentuckians would flock to the Confederate standard as soon as it waved upon the banks of the Ohio, and innumerable bitter objurgations were launched against them, because so few resorted to it when it was planted upon the bluffs of Green river.

The patriotism which inspired, alike, the prophesies and the curses, can not be called in question. But Albert Sidney Johnson, while he felt the enthusiasm which was the concomitant of his perfect courage and high military genius, had trained himself to coolly examine, and carefully calculate every influence which could affect his plans. He had studied, and, I believe, he rightly estimated the popular feeling.

Revolutions may be inaugurated and accomplished by the unsworn, unarmed, unorganized masses; wars, once fairly commenced, must be won by soldiers. An entire population is frequently ripe for revolution, only a portion of it is available for, and will enlist for, war. Even had the most favorable accounts of the unanimity of the people of Kentucky, and their devotion to the Southern cause, reached General Johnson from credible sources, he would have been justified in still doubting that he would derive immediate benefit from it. There are no braver men than the Tennesseeans, they were then practically unanimous, except in the eastern portion of the State, they were very ardent, and yet the Tennesseeans took their time in flocking to the Confederate standard.

The gallantry and patriotism of the Mississippians are as bright as the light of day; and yet, in September, 1861, thousands of young Mississippians who afterward bled for the cause, were at home dealing out fiery denunciations against slaveholding States which would not secede. The same history is true of every other seceding State—States, unlike Kentucky, already embarked in and committed to the war. It was not because the men of these States lacked purpose—throngs of them who stayed at home until the news of our first disasters came, then enlisted, and fought and died with the quenchless valor which had descended to them from unconquered sires, and was traditional in a race which had believed itself invincible. It was because they knew little of war at all, and were utterly ignorant of the kind of war that was coming. The mighty conviction had not yet forced itself upon them. It is true that the Confederate Government had refused regiments raised and tendered by these States some time previously. Unable to arm them, it dismissed them, instead of placing them in camps of instruction until arms could be procured.

If, among the many errors which have been attributed to the great patriot, hero and statesman who was at the head of that Government, there was one really grave and fatal in its consequences, it was that he himself failed to appreciate the danger, failed to comprehend the magnitude of the struggle when it began, and failed therefore to arouse his people to an early and tremendous exertion, which might have triumphed. The absolute confidence of the Government blinded the people, and its policy tended rather to quiet, than to excite their enthusiasm. But whatever may have been the causes, it was for General Johnson to consider the effect. If, after the war had lasted four months, his immense department, composed of seceded States, could furnish him only six thousand troops, when he advanced to Bowlinggreen, with what show of reason could he count on obtaining from Kentucky—Kentucky that had not yet seceded, that was divided, distracted by conflicting opinions—the vast concourse of recruits, which so many professed to expect her to furnish, and which she was so indignantly denounced for not furnishing?

Could General Johnson have occupied Northern Kentucky without opposition, and have held it undisturbed for some months, it is highly probable that all dissensions would have been allayed, that the revolutionary fever would have spread through Kentucky (perhaps it might even have been propagated north of the Ohio), and thousands of Kentuckians would have joined the Confederate army, many of whom were subsequently its most formidable foes. But it must be remembered that the Federal Government had not been idle, that the North was on fire with the war spirit, that a host of sturdy volunteers had been gathered and organized for the special purpose of holding Kentucky, that, with the abundant means at its command, the Federal Government had already efficiently armed its soldiers, and provided all that was necessary for active and immediate service.

In forty-eight hours after Louisville had fallen, certainly before he could have brought up the forces to dispute its entrance at any point, an army from the North, vastly stronger than General Johnson's, could have been thrown into Kentucky. Could General Johnson have defeated this army? If defeated himself in such a situation, what would have been the consequences, not only to his hopes of revolutionizing Kentucky, not only to the army immediately under his command, but to the Confederate cause in the West? Would he, then, have been warranted in risking so much upon this throw? If General Johnson had been constrained to fight at once, and had been driven back, he would have sustained a disaster, perhaps fatal. The effect it would have had in Kentucky can easily be understood, and it would have had some and not a very cheering effect in more Southern latitudes. The patriotism and integrity of the mass of the people is undeniable, but for all that, "there is a great deal of human nature in man." Success is the most eloquent of arguments. He who appeals to the suffrages of an enlightened community after a victory will be better received then he who canvasses after a defeat. Again (it is a truth that will bear repetition) in revolutions, popular convulsions, political agitations—a method may be safely attempted which will be hazardous and of doubtful policy after actual war has commenced. In the former periods, enthusiasm runs higher, patriotism is more reckless and demonstrative than when the bayonets are about. The danger then is distant, and with the majority of men, when a general excitement is prevailing, the remote danger excites no fear. Many a patriot is willing to be Brigadier General of the peaceful militia, and to devote himself to a cause, from the stump, who would feel a strong and very natural reluctance to leave home, wife, children and property, to accept the hardships of a soldier's life, and be shot at whenever his officers feel enterprising.

If the sentiment of the people be not unanimous and very decided, the secret of success in revolutions is to captivate the popular fancy, give the first direction to the popular current. It is a struggle between the leaders, and the most audacious, not to say the least scrupulous, are apt to win.

It is unsafe, in such periods, to rely surely upon any sort of action from the people—it would be the mistake of supposing that every man, unshaken by any influence, had made up his mind, and knew what he was going to do, and that the majority by some instinct, would be immediately obeyed. A brave, honest, intelligent people will be likely, once convinced and committed, to abide gallantly by their decision. If their education has been wholesome, and their traditions unique, they will be stimulated by ordinary perils and disasters to increased energy and exertions.

But whether the revolutionary fermentation be in process, or the stand has been taken—it is easier to induce the masses of a people to vote for resolutions than to become soldiers.

It doubtless would have proven a successful policy, to have pushed Buckner instantly to Louisville, and Zollicoffer to Lexington, to stay as long as they were safe, and return with the recruits and the supplies that they could have collected, leaving behind them the positive assurance that the country was not inaccessible to Confederate troops. But to have taken the army into Northern Kentucky, upon the supposition that the unarmed population would arise and enable it to remain there—in the face of the threatening dangers and the almost positive certainty of instant battle—would have been a blind, unreasoning daring, which had no place among the qualities of General Johnson. The wisdom and prescience of the great commander were afterward so abundantly demonstrated, that we may be pardoned for believing his judgment right in this instance also.

In establishing his base at Bowlinggreen, he secured, as has been shown, a line well adapted to enable him to assume the offensive so soon as his army was sufficiently strong to do so with effect. The very fact of his moving into Kentucky at all was a pledge and guarantee to the people of his department, that, if sustained by them, he would keep the war out of their territory, and encouraged his army to hope for an active, dashing campaign. He placed himself where the more enterprising and determined of the Kentucky rebels could join him, and he spared no effort, no appeal, which could stimulate enlistment in his army among the young men of Kentucky, or of the States of his department.

That his appeals were neglected was not only his, but the Confederacy's deadly misfortune. Numerical weakness frustrated in September 1861, his plan to appear before the people, not only of Northern Kentucky, but of the Northwestern States, as the victor of a decisive battle, and, in the following February, forced him to retreat from Kentucky altogether. The first and most golden opportunity was lost; and the future history of the war in the West, was a series of terrible reverses to the Confederate arms, or of victories brilliant indeed, but, in the end, fruitless.

The condition of the Confederate troops was far better, in many respects, at this time, than at any subsequent period of the war.

There were, then, facilities and means for providing them with necessaries and comforts which more latterly did not exist. Provisions were abundant everywhere, and were regularly supplied.

The railroads, which were then, all in good repair and well provided with rolling stock, afforded sure means of supplying the troops which were stationed in those parts of the country through which they ran. The numerous navigable streams also afforded facilities, and practically shortened the routes of supply.

In all cases, however, in which neither the railways nor the rivers could be used to supply them, troops were compelled to depend for subsistence, in a great measure, upon the country immediately about their cantonments, and as they exhausted the surplus provisions in different neighborhoods, they would shift their encampments. This was owing to the great lack of wheel transportation. It was very difficult to procure wagons, except by purchase or impressment from the citizens, and those so gotten were of course inferior. Much less inconvenience was subsequently experienced on this score, after they began to be manufactured in the Confederate and were captured in great numbers from the enemy. At this time, many articles such as sugar, coffee, etc., indispensable to the comfort and conducive to the health of troops in the field, were plentifully furnished—after the first year of the war they were known among us only by camp-fire traditions. The men rarely suffered, then, from the want of clothing, blankets, shoes, etc., even when the quartermasters could not furnish them, for they could obtain them from home, or purchase them, wherever they happened to be quartered, at reasonable prices. There was, perhaps, no regiment in the army which had not its full complement of tents; they were manufactured at Memphis, and other points, in numbers adequate to the wants of all the troops.

Cooking utensils, also, could be had in abundance—the marching commands suffered, not from the want of them, but from the lack of transportation for them. It is true that those which were furnished us were not of the kind and pattern which experience has prescribed as most fitting for military use, but they were capital substitutes for flat stones and forked twigs.

In the medical department there was an almost total lack of the necessary material. The supply of medicines in the South at the outbreak of the war was barely sufficient for the wants of the population at that time. Some medicines were run through the blockade from the North, in small quantities, during the spring and summer of 1861. But the supply thus obtained by no means met the demand. The volunteers collected together in camps and crowded cantonments, subjected to a sudden change of diet and mode of living, sickened in great numbers. Diseases which had never before, or but in rare instances, proven dangerous, now assumed alarming types. The systems of the patients may have been relaxed and their vitality partially impaired, during the early period of camp life, when they were just foregoing their old habits and were not yet hardened to the new, or it may be that when men are congregated in great numbers, certain diseases, by transmission from one to another, may be cultivated into extraordinary malignancy—at any rate a large proportion of the inmates of every camp sickened and many died. At Bowlinggreen in the winter of 1861 and 1862, the mortality was dreadful, measles, typhoid fever, pneumonia and diseases of the bowels, carried off a host of victims—every sickness, however, seemed fatal at that time.

There was, consequently, a great and constantly increasing need of medicines; and, perhaps, some waste of them, when they were collected in large quantities and shipped from point to point, was unavoidable. But all these problems, all the difficulties of properly supplying the army, began to be solved and modified, as the genius of adaptation and substitution was developed among the troops themselves. If a man could not get a blanket, he made an old carpet, cut to the proper size and lined on one side with a piece of strong cotton cloth, serve him instead. The soldier who lacked shoes bid defiance to the rough roads, or the weather, in a pair of ox-hide buskins, or with complicated wrappings of rags about his feet. I have known more than one orderly sergeant make out his morning report upon a shingle, and the surgeon who lacked a tourniquet used a twisted handkerchief. Of the most necessary military material, arms and ordnance stores, there was the greatest scarcity. Perhaps one half of the entire western army (of all the troops in the department) were armed (at the time that General Johnson came) with shot-guns and squirrel rifles, and the majority of the other half with scarcely as serviceable flint-lock muskets.

The troops under General Bragg at Pensacola were perhaps better armed, but the rule held good with regard to the others. A few companies composed of young men from the cities, and of rich planters, were armed with fancy guns, Maynard rifles, etc., altogether unsuitable for the armament of infantry. In September of 1861, there were probably not one thousand Springfield and Enfield rifles in the army which General Johnson was trying to concentrate in Kentucky, and it was several months later before these unequaled weapons (the right arms for soldiers who mean to fight) could be supplied in numbers at all adequate to the need of them. In the advance to Bowlinggreen, more than three hundred able-bodied men of the Second Kentucky, and an equal, if not greater number of the Third Kentucky were left in the rear because arms could not be gotten for them. In November one or two regiments of the Kentucky brigade were given the Belgian in place of the flint-lock musket, and in December flint-lock guns, altered to percussion locks, were given the other regiments of the brigade. Proper accouterments were as scarce as guns. Cartridge-boxes, knapsacks, canteens, when they could be gotten at all, were very inferior. By great industry and effort, a considerable quantity of ammunition had been prepared and worked up into cartridges, but there was such a scarcity of lead and powder in the South, and such inferior facilities for the manufacture of the latter, that apprehension was felt lest, when the supply on hand was exhausted, it could not be replaced.

There was scarcely a percussion cap to be had (in the early part of the war) in the department, with the exception of some that were manufactured by an enterprising citizen of Nashville, and zealous Confederate, Mr. S.D. Morgan, an uncle of the General. But while so few of the Confederate soldiers were efficiently armed, almost every man of them, presuming that the Yankees were to be whipped in rough and tumble style, had his bowie-knife and revolver. The Arkansas and Texas troops, especially, carried enormous knives, that might have made a Malay's blood run cold, but in the end those huge weapons did duty far oftener as cleavers than as bayonets. The organization of the troops first put in the field was, of course, to some extent, imperfect. A good deal has been said about the evils of the system of electing officers, and much just censure has been passed upon it. It has been claimed that it gives rise to a laxity of discipline, and a disposition on the part of officers, who owe their positions to the suffrages of the men they command, to wink at irregularities and pardon gross neglect of duty.

This is undoubtedly true, in a great measure, and what is stranger, but equally as true, is the fact that troops which have been longest in the service, which know best what qualities are necessary to constitute a good officer, which appreciate perfectly the necessity of having good officers, not only to their efficiency and success in the field, but to their well-being at all times—just such troops seem least able to resist the temptation of electing some good-natured fellow, whom they will never respect, and will, perhaps, grow ashamed of, rather than men who will enforce their obedience, but promote alike their efficiency and their comfort. At all times they will look to and rely upon the good officer, but when they come to elect, the love of doing as they please, unchecked by the irksome restraints of discipline, is apt to make them vote for the man who will indulge them. But I believe that all those who observed these matters carefully will agree, that there was far less of this sort of feeling among the men who volunteered at the outbreak of the war than there was later.

The officers elected by the regiments first raised were, generally, about the best men that could have been selected. The men, at that time, in good faith, chose those they believed best qualified for the duties of command, and elected individuals who had manifested, or were thought to possess, courage, energy, and good sense. Of course some mistakes were made, and experience disclosed the fact, now well-established, that many men who figured respectably in times of peace, are unfitted for military responsibility, and weaken in the ordeal of military life.

No opportunity had been afforded then, for testing and discovering those qualified for positions of trust and importance—it was all a matter of experiment. Many injudicious selections were made, but it quite as often happened that the appointing system (as it was exercised at the beginning of the war) gave incompetent officers to the army. The graduates of West Point themselves, and even those officers who had served for years in the "Old Army," knew little or nothing of actual war. Their studies at the academy, and the reading appropriate to their profession, had instructed them in the theory of war.

They had the knowledge which the routine of camp and garrison duty teaches. Most of them had seen service in expeditions against the Indians on the Western plains. Some of them had served with distinction and benefit to themselves in Mexico, but this was an experience which they shared with many civilians. They had soldierly habits. They were well acquainted with, and knew the importance of the military etiquette and ceremonial so conducive to proper subordination and discipline, and without which neither can be maintained in an army. But beyond the necessity (permanently impressed upon them, and rendered a constant influence with them by long training and habit) of strictly obeying all the rules of discipline themselves, and of exacting the same obedience from others, they knew nothing which a quick mind, if endowed with a natural military aptitude and appreciation of military essentials, can not readily acquire. While the regulations prescribed clear and excellent rules of organization, the strictest conformity was not always had to them, and it was sometimes difficult to strictly apply them. Companies sometimes overran the maximum in a way that rendered them as embarrassing to the regiments in which they were placed, as they were painfully unwieldy to the unlearned Captains and Lieutenants who immediately commanded them.

When it was known that a very popular man was recruiting, the number of enlistments in his company was limited only by the number of able bodied men in his district who were inclined to enlist. As each volunteer had the right to select his Captain and company, and generally objected very decidedly to being transferred to any other, it was a delicate and difficult task to reduce these over-grown companies to proper proportions. Regiments frequently, on account of the popularity of their Colonels, or from other causes, swelled out of due bounds also. I knew one regiment, which in the early part of September, 1861, had in it seventeen companies and numbered, when all answered to roll call, more than two thousand men. There was at this time a very favorite, and very anomalous organization, known as the "Legion," which fortunately in a few months entirely disappeared. It was something between a regiment and a brigade, with all of a hybrid's vague awkwardness of conformation. It was the general supposition, too, for little was ever definitely known about it, that it was to be somewhat of an independent corps, something like the "Partisan Ranger" regiment of later date. When the army was in the first process of organization, these "Legions" could be heard of everywhere.

The idea doubtless originated with some officer who felt that he deserved a higher grade than that of Colonel, and could not obtain a Brigadier's commission.

As organization went on, and system prevailed, the "Legions," perhaps according to the merit of their commanders, or their numerical strength, sank into companies, were regularly organized as regiments, or were elevated into brigades. The brigades were from three to seven or eight thousand strong, and all arms of the service were represented in them; they included regiments of infantry and cavalry and batteries of artillery. It was in a measure necessary that this organization should be adopted, from the fact that for some months, each brigade commander was entrusted with supervision and defense of a large tract of territory, and it was impossible to dispense with either of the three arms. Divisions were not organized until late in the fall of 1861—the strength of the brigades was then, to some extent, equalized by the reduction of the larger ones; Army Corps were of still later creation.

A significant custom prevailed of denoting the companies of the first regiments which were raised, not by letter, but by some company denomination which they had borne in the militia organization, or had assumed as soon as mustered as an indispensable nom-de-guerre. They seemed to vie with each other in inventing titles of thrilling interest: "The Yellow Jackets," "The Dead Shots," "The Earthquakes," "The Chickasaha Desperadoes," "The Hell-roarers," are a few which made the newspapers of that day, in recording their movements, read like the pages of popular romance. So fondly did the professors of these appellations cling to them, that it was found almost as difficult to compel their exchange for the proper designations, as to effect far more harassing and laborious reforms. The spirit which prompted these particular organizations to adopt this method of distinguishing and identifying themselves, remained to the last characteristic of the Southern troops. Regiments, especially in the cavalry service, were quite as often styled by the names of their commanders, as by the numbers which they properly bore, and, if the commanders were popular, the former method was always the most agreeable.

In the latter part of the war, after every effort had been made to do away with this feeling, it was at length adjudged expedient to enjoin such a designation of brigades, by the names of their commanders, by order from the War Department. This peculiar affectation was but one form in which the temper of the Southern people was manifested—a temper which revolted against complete loss of individuality, and was prone to self-assertion. It is a temper which ought to be characteristic of a free and high spirited people, which, while for prudential reasons it will consent to severe restraints, seeks to mark the fact that the restraint is self-imposed. Few will doubt, upon reflection, that this feeling could have been turned to better account in the Southern army; that to have allowed commands to win distinctive and honorable appellations by extraordinary bravery would have elevated the standard of morale, as much as did promotion for personal gallantry and good conduct. The excellence of a command mentioned in general orders might be only partially known, but the fame conferred by the title of the "Stonewall Brigade" is universal. For the first year, there was, in the true sense of the word, no discipline in the Western army at all. The good sense and strong feeling of duty which pervaded the entire soldiery made them obedient, zealous, and tolerably patient. High courage and natural resolution made them fight well from the first, and, long exposure to the storms of battle taught them coolness in the midst of danger, and the comparative indifference to it, which become habitual with the veteran, and which are usually confounded with the effects of discipline, although they frequently exist where discipline has never obtained. A spirit of emulation induced them to readily learn the drill and all the more ostentatious duties of the soldier. A fortitude which, until they were put to the test, they were not themselves aware of, enabled them to endure without diminution of spirit, great hardship and privation. Pride and patriotism, in the midst of every suffering and temptation, kept them true and patient to the last. While all these influences combined to make excellent soldiers of the material of which that army was composed, it will be nearer the truth to say, that there was, in the true sense of the word, no discipline in the Western army, not only in the first year of the war, but at any time during the War. The rigid method introduced by General Bragg undoubtedly told with good effect upon the men of least pride and mettle, and kept all such men nearer the mark, but for the rest, Bragg's discipline improved the army rather by its operations upon the officers than upon the men.

No man who has intimately known the Southern soldiery can escape the conviction, that, while capable of acquiring any degree of instruction, and, if the word may be used, veteranship, they can not really be disciplined, that is, be converted, by the infliction and fear of punishment, into unreasoning machines. If there were no other proof of this, the reflection which was invariably shed upon the morale and tone of every command by the personal character, prowess and skill of its particular leader, would be sufficient proof of it, and the fact that the Southern troops almost always read their chances of success or defeat, not in the odds opposed to them, but in the reputation and character of their commander—it would be as wide of the truth to call this discipline, as it would be to speak of the perfect discipline of the Norman knights, who would insult a cowardly and indolent Prince upon his throne, and would, yet, obey with "proud humility" an heroic adventurer.

While no practical soldier will underrate the value of discipline and the marvels it works—still the experience of the late war will make many officers believe that it is no match for native intelligence, zeal, and pride—when those qualities have become trained and used to the requirements of war. Instruction and skill in military duties, are indispensable, although discipline is not always so. Give the high strung young soldier who has brains and good blood, some practice and knowledge of actual warfare, and the unthinking automaton, formed by routine and punishment, can no more stand before him than a tree can resist the stroke of the lightning, than the book general and paper tactician can resist the genius which throws his plans out of gear, and his mind into convulsions.

It will be well for those who read Southern histories of the war to keep in mind that the writers mean, when they use the word "discipline," the pride which stimulated the soldiers to learn their duties rather than incur disgrace, and the subordination which proceeded from self respect, and respect for an officer whom they thought worthy to command them. It was not the fault of the Southern men who took the field, that the efforts of the Southern people failed to establish, for themselves, a separate and independent Government.

Two great mistakes were made at the outset and were never retrieved. Mistakes which have lost battles and campaigns innumerable, and in this instance lost a war. The vigor and irresistible audacity which is gained by "taking the start" was lost to us by the defensive policy, and our troops were scattered so widely that even an energetic defense could nowhere be made, except in Virginia. The Government did not mass the troops for attack upon vulnerable points in the enemy's territory, nor to fall upon some one of his invading columns. Not only was the defensive strictly maintained, but an effort was made to defend every inch of the border. In the face of superior forces concentrating for invasion at certain points, a skirmish line, which employed all of our forces, was thrown out to hold all points from Richmond to the Western prairies.

But one original and cardinal error gave birth to all the others. The Confederate Government failed to invoke the only spirit which could have done its bidding. It ought, with out delay, to have stimulated the ardor and turned loose the tremendous energies of revolution, and have made the people drunken with its inspiration. The time was propitious, the Government was just established and was popular, the people were, practically, unanimous, and were irretrievably committed to the movement—they had never seen hostile troops or been daunted by the sights of war. The presence of formidable armed foes might have aroused prudence, but when Sumpter fell and war became inevitable, there were no armies in the field on either side. When the first gun boomed, the Government ought to have taken advantage of the glow of enthusiasm which was as yet unchilled by any fear of the yet distant danger. It ought to have asked for powers which the people in their, then, thorough confidence in their leaders would have readily granted. They felt, that if the struggle was really for important principles and vital rights, it was better to make rulers of their own choice, omnipotent for a short time, than to run the risk of defeat which would cause them entire, and, perhaps eternal, loss of liberty. The leaders knew that the temper of the people could be relied on—that if frankly told that success could be achieved only by prompt and enormous efforts and sacrifices—the efforts and sacrifices would be made. They were made later, when instead of universal hope and enthusiasm, there prevailed a feeling of almost despair. The strategy of revolution is identical, in principle, with that of war—the side which masses and marches fast wins. If, while it was yet a contest of peoples and not yet a conflict of armies, the entire white population of the South had been aroused, her territory converted into one vast camp, every male citizen between the ages of sixteen and sixty made a soldier, leaving to the President the power of exempting certain classes, and not regulating by law a matter so essentially discretionary, and every dollar's worth of property had been pledged to the cause, how different might have been the result? All this could have been done in the then condition of public sentiment; not a dissentient voice would have been heard. It would have been far more popular than the "Conscript Act" was a year later, and that caused little complaint.

Let any man think of what might have been done in May, 1861, with all the men, which were subsequently in the Confederate army, arrayed and pressed on the front. If unarmed, they would have met opponents also unarmed. Men followed the armies in Missouri and picked up guns on the battle field, while the Government was rejecting regiments because it had not arms to give them. Subsequently it found arms easier to be gotten than men.

If Jefferson Davis had possessed one tithe of the unscrupulous ambition of which he has been accused, he would not now be the inmate of a prison. He could have made, with all ease his Government a dictatorate—or turning off the useless and clamorous Congress, as an incumbrance to a Government which (until the war was won) was an experiment, have ruled during the war with a "committee of public safety."

To excite the energies of the people to the utmost, and then direct and employ them by means of some such machinery, was the way to win. But he preferred to believe that the danger was not great. He would have died sooner than assume unconstitutional power. The ardor of the people was rebuffed, and they sank into an apathy, from which they were awakened by terrible disasters, to find themselves encompassed by fierce and hostile armies.

CHAPTER V

In 1857, the company of volunteer militia called the "Lexington Rifles" was organized with John H. Morgan as Captain, it subsequently, upon the organization of the State-guard, became incorporated in that body. It was composed of the finest and most spirited young men of Lexington, and soon won a high reputation for proficiency in drill, and in all the duties taught in the camps of the State-guards, as well as for the intelligence and daring of its members.

From the hour of its organization the men of this company seemed to entertain the profoundest love and admiration for their Captain, and the influence and control they accorded him was not too strongly expressed in the words of their motto, which, written in large letters, framed and hung up in their armory, caught the eye of every visitor and announced, "Our laws the commands of our Captain."

It was with the forty-five or fifty men of this company who unhesitating followed his fortunes when he went to the Southern army, and a few other kindred spirits who immediately attached themselves to him, before he had won rank or fame, that Morgan began his career, and around them as a nucleus he gathered his gallant command. Although thoroughly Southern in sentiment, and frank to the last degree in its expression, the members of the company, with one or two exceptions, made no effort to go South until Captain Morgan signified his readiness to lead them, in this, as in all else, they awaited his decision and directions. The extreme illness of his wife, who died in July, 1861, required, during the early summer, his constant presence in Lexington, and he did not determine to act until after the troops, posted at Camp Dick Robinson and the Home guard organizations, began to give unmistakable evidences of hostility to all persons not "loyal."

When the order was issued for the disarming of the State-guard, Morgan determined to save his guns at all hazards. The State-guard was by this time virtually disbanded, many of its officers of high rank, elected under the impression that they were Southern men, had declared for the other side, and various other influences tended to cripple and demoralize it. An officer then, of that body, who decided to resist the edict, disarming his men and leaving them defenseless, in the reach of armed and bitter political opponents, could look for little backing from his comrades. His best chance was to make his way at once to the Confederate lines in Southern Kentucky. This Morgan resolved to do.

On Friday night, September 20, 1861, he confided to a few of his most reliable and trusted men his determination and plans, and taking the guns from the armory, loaded them into two wagons and started them out of Lexington on the Versailles road under a small guard. The men composing this guard left on such short notice that few of them had time to prepare and carry with them even necessary clothing, scarcely time to take leave of their families. They marched out of town with their cartridge-boxes belted on, their rifles on their shoulders, loaded, and their bayonets fixed. A regiment of Federal troops was encamped that night at the fair ground, about a mile from town, and many of the officers and men were in town at the time the guns were removed. In order to deceive as to his movements and lull any suspicion that might exist of his design to move the guns, Captain Morgan caused twelve or fifteen men to parade and tramp heavily about the armory for an hour or two after the wagons had been loaded and started, and so created the impression that his company was engaged in drilling.

The wagons were not stopped in the town, and only one soldier was encountered who was made prisoner by the escort, carried off some twenty miles, and then released.

Morgan accompanied the wagons for a short distance until it was apparent that there was no immediate danger to be apprehended, and returned to Lexington.

On the next day when it was ascertained that the guns had been taken away, and no trace of them could be discovered, a great excitement was gotten up. That very day had been appointed for their seizure by the authorities, and the authorities had been completely tricked and baffled.

The loyal citizens who had calculated upon witnessing the discomfiture of the "Rifles," and of all their backers, were disappointed, and had the farther mortification of learning that the wagons containing the coveted prizes had passed the night before, in the sight of them all, to a place where they dared not follow. Of course many taunts were flung at the fooled spies, and disappointed patriots; and at length the angry discussions brought on a shooting affray between some of the "Rifles," and a part of the troops and Home-guards. The regiment stationed at the fair grounds, was brought into town to quell this affair, and two pieces of artillery were planted to sweep the principal streets—and from that date, for four years, Lexington was under military rule.

Captain Morgan, for whose arrest an order was immediately issued, communicated during the day with such of his men as desired to follow him, and at nightfall left Lexington with them and rejoined those who had gone before. He passed through Anderson county to Nelson, and halted a few miles from Bardstown. Here he was joined by Captain John Cripps Wickliffe, subsequently Lieutenant Colonel of the Ninth Kentucky Infantry, and a very gallant officer. Captain Wickliffe had determined also to save his guns and take his company, or all that would follow him, to the Confederate army. The greater portion of his company, one of the finest in the State-guards, elected to go with him. Desirous, while about it, of doing a brisk business in guns, he confiscated those of a neighboring Home-guard company, and brought them to Morgan's camp—they were immediately placed in the hands of the unarmed men, who, finding an organized force making for the Confederate lines, attached themselves to it. Many such men, anxious to go South, but afraid to go without a leader, came to this camp during the four or five days that it was maintained.

On account of the kindness and liberality of the people who lived in that neighborhood, and who supplied its inmates with provisions of all kinds, this camp was entitled "Camp Charity," and long will it be remembered.

By the common wish and consent, Morgan took command of all the forces, and when, on Saturday evening, September 28th, he resumed his march, he was at the head of some two hundred men. He encountered no enemy. The Home-guards, who mustered strong in the region through which he passed, thought his force too formidable to attack and kept out of his path. When he would hear of two bodies of them, likely to give him trouble if united, he would pass between them and scare both.

After two days and nights hard marching, he reached Green river on Monday evening, September 30th. He received an enthusiastic welcome from the Confederate troops stationed there, most of whom were Kentuckians, and many of them knew him well.

Colonel Roger W. Hanson, the officer in command, was himself from Lexington, and was a warm personal friend of Morgan.

There were, at Green river, encamped on the Southern side of the stream, at this date, the Second Kentucky Infantry (Hanson's own regiment), six or seven hundred strong, Byrne's Battery, and four companies of Tennessee cavalry.

Colonel Thomas Hunt, an uncle of Captain Morgan, was also there with two companies of the regiment he was then organizing. Of all the general officers (he was made a General) which Kentucky gave to the Confederate service, least justice had been done by fame to Roger Hanson, and it is strange that such should be the case. Not only was he well known, constantly talked of, greatly loved, and ardently admired by the Kentuckians, but his name was familiar in all parts of the army. It is true that his early death blighted the reputation he was rapidly winning, but it is hard for those who knew him to understand how such a man could have failed to attract more general and more lively interest. While a very young man, he served with distinction in Mexico, returning home he indulged for a short period in an erratic career which astonished even the Kentuckians, and suddenly quitted it to beat all rivals at the bar, and become a leading politician. Friends and opponents agreed in pronouncing him one of the most effective speakers in the State. His youth was too much occupied in more agreeable pursuits, to admit of his employing profitably the educational advantages which were offered him, but his mind, although unused to the discipline of study, mastered all that it grappled with. He read less and comprehended more law than any member of the profession in Kentucky. His vigorous native intellect and acute sense, were perhaps more formidable, for this reason. Want of science made his method of attack more original and irresistible. In the contests of the bar and the hustings, he was a sort of heavy armed partisan, his irregular, rapid onslaught crushed opposition. The learning and eloquence of his ablest antagonists availed little against his manly logic, and often sounded like the merest folly after having been subjected to his telling ridicule. All of his ideas seemed clearly defined; his mind was never in a mist. His insight into character was extraordinary, and he had the most remarkable faculty of accurate observation and life-like reproduction, especially of ludicrous traits and scenes. His command of humorous, graphic, forcible expression was unequaled. He had very many noble traits of character. He was candid and truthful to bluntness. His scorn of dissimulation and affectation of any sort, gave his manner and speech a bluffness, and apparent want of sympathy with the feelings of other men, which caused him often to be misunderstood. I believe that he would rather that the whole world should have thought him a scoundrel, than have seemed for one moment, in his own eyes, a hypocrite. His will was dauntless, his resolution inflexible, his courage high. He had little opportunity, during his military life, to show the stuff that was in him, and to prove that he possessed other qualities befitting an officer beside courage and the strictest attention to the instruction, the comfort, and the discipline of his men. Notwithstanding that he was a very strict disciplinarian—and Kentucky troops have little love of discipline—he was very popular with his men. They retaliated by nick-naming him "Bench-leg," or "Old flint-lock," and admired him all the more intensely, the more frequently that he showed them that they could never deceive him nor attempt it with impunity. Once, thinking that the health of his regiment was getting too bad, and that many cases of illness, reported as severe, were but ruses to escape doing duty, he published an order that from that date "there should be but two sick men at the same time in each company," and caused it to be rigidly enforced. No one who ever saw Hanson can forget him. In stature he was a little under the medium hight, and he was powerfully but ungracefully built. His bulky and ungainly form indicated great but awkward strength. His shoulders were huge, round, and stooping, and he sat on his horse in the attitude in which a sick man bends over the fire. His head was large and perfectly round. His complexion was fair and florid, and his eyes gray and full of light. His strong and marked features, when he became excited, worked strangely and apparently without being moved by the same influences, and the alert movement of his head, at such moments, was in singular contrast to his otherwise heavy inactive manner. His face, when he was calm and giving careful attention to any thing said to him, wore a look of exceeding sternness, enhanced by a peculiar twitch of the muscles of the mouth and eye. He had a German face with all the Irish expressions. A wound received in a duel had shortened one leg and gave him a singular gait, something between a jerk and a roll. His voice was deep and guttural, and his utterance rapid, decided, abrupt, like that of a man who meant all that he said, and knew that it would produce an effect. No one could look him in the eye and fail to perceive that he was every inch a man—a strong, brave, manly nature looked out in every lineament of his face. Captain Wickliffe attached his company to the regiment which Colonel Hunt was organizing. Of the stragglers who had come out with Captain Morgan, some went one way and some another—only eight or ten remained with him. Although not yet in the Confederate service, he at once commenced the active and daring work which laid the foundation of his celebrity and brought him at once into general notice. The cavalry which had been stationed there previously to his coming, had confined themselves to doing picket duty, and had never sought or been required to do other service. This monotonous work, altogether devoid of excitement, did not accord with his nature, which demanded the stimulus of adventure; he, moreover, intuitively understood then, and declared the fact since so completely demonstrated, that cavalry can be employed to far better advantage, if kept well out upon the front or flanks of the army to which it belongs, and close upon the enemy, than by exacting of it the sort of duty which can just as well be performed by infantry. The Federal advanced forces were then stationed at Elizabethtown, and were soon pushed to Nolin Creek, distant about twenty-one or two miles from Munfordsville. Captain Morgan had at first not more than twenty mounted men of his own company, but with these and with volunteers from the other cavalry who were inspired by his example, he made frequent "scouts," and watched and reported every thing that transpired upon the front. These "excursions" were undertaken about four or five times in every week, and would usually occupy twenty-four hours. The scouting party would set out at or a little before dark; before reaching the lines of the enemy, some exciting chases would be had after the countrymen who were in Federal pay or sympathy, and who, always on the lookout for us, would start at break-neck speed for the camp of their friends, pursued by our foremost riders. At first they tried to do this courier duty on horseback, but finding that we were better mounted than they were, and that, when hard pressed and forced to take to the brush, their horses were abandoned for ever, they betook themselves to a less expensive mode of conveying information. They were fleet of foot and knew the paths through the thickets and hills perfectly, and it was difficult to follow and impossible to catch them. We, also, had many friends among the country people living near the enemy's camp, and as we would prowl all night around and among the Federal pickets and outposts, seeking to entrap the unwary, many were the secret conferences which we held in the shade of the woods with faithful informants, who generally closed their reports with emphatic adjurations that, "For the love of God," we would never breathe their names.

Once or twice Captain Morgan passed himself as a Federal officer, in close vicinity to their camps, but this ruse could not be repeated often with success. Once we were guided safely out of a very dangerous situation by an intensely "loyal" man who thought he was assisting some friends who had lost their way. When day returned the scouting party would take a position on the "line of retreat" at a convenient but safe distance from the enemy, rest and refresh men and horses, observe closely if there was any unusual movement in the hostile lines, and as the day declined and it became evident that all was likely to remain quiet, it would return to camp. After the first two or three weeks of this sort of service, and its advantages had become apparent, an order was given to turn over to Captain Morgan some thirty "condemned" artillery horses. With a little care and nursing they were rendered tolerably fit for his purposes, and he was thus enabled to mount, the better part of his company. I knew a scout to be performed, with most of the men riding these same rejected horses, of sixty-eight miles in twenty hours. Although these scouts and expeditions were not nearly so exciting as were subsequent ones, when the cavalry of both armies had become more accustomed to them and more enterprising, yet they were very pleasant episodes in the dull tedious life of the camp, and excellent preparation for really hard and hazardous service. Morgan himself derived great benefit from the experience they gave him, for he rarely if ever missed them. He always knew how to direct and how to estimate the scouting duty of his command, one of the most important, by the practical knowledge thus acquired. Nor will it injure any man who is called upon to exercise the duties of a General to take a few lessons in this school. The fatigue and discomfort from want of sleep attending these expeditions to those who went constantly upon them, was almost as great, as that suffered in later and far more difficult service.

The first skirmish in which Morgan's company or any portion of it was engaged, was a very insignificant and bloodless one, and served only to illustrate the character of the apprehensions which are apt to assail raw troops.

It was upon the second or third scout that Captain Morgan had taken, that we for the first time met the enemy. Contrary to the usual practice, the scouting party had started out early in the day; it consisted of some fifteen of Morgan's own company, twenty-five of the Tennessee cavalry, and ten or fifteen volunteers, about fifty in all. After proceeding some twelve miles in the direction of Nolin Creek, the advance of our party suddenly discovered a body of Federal infantry moving down the road toward us. Their bayonets glistening and just perceptible above a little rise three or four hundred yards off notified the videttes of their vicinity. They did not see us, and we immediately dismounted and posted ourselves in the thickets on both sides of the road, sending the horses to the rear under charge of eight or ten men. No plan of battle was adopted, although many were proposed—the various suggestions, however, that were thrown out, in the inspiration of the moment are lost to history. I remember, however, that one man gave it as his decided opinion, that we ought to charge them immediately on horseback, and he then rode rapidly back to Green river to report the situation to Colonel Hanson. Enjoining silence on the talkative, Captain Morgan went forward on foot to a house, about one hundred and forty or fifty yards in front of our position, and looked out from a window, which commanded a full view of their approach, upon the enemy. He saw a body of sixty or seventy, but this came so close upon him that he was compelled to leave the house before he could discover whether it was the advance of another and larger body, or was unsupported. Fortunately he effected his retreat from the house and rejoined his party without discovery by the enemy. The latter continued to march on, past the house, and toward our position, until, within forty or fifty yards of us, something discovered us to them and they halted. Captain Morgan immediately stepped out into the road, fired at and shot the officer riding at the head of the column. Without returning the fire his men fell back to the house before mentioned, situated on a long low knoll, through which, to the left of the house as we faced, was a cut of the railroad. This afforded a pretty good position and one which we should have taken ourselves. Here they deployed and opened a volley upon us, which would have been very fatal if we had been in the tops of instead of behind the trees. Both sides then continued to load and fire rapidly. With us, every man ought to have behaved well, for each acted upon his own responsibility. Captain Morgan with a few of the more enterprising, and one or two personal followers who always kept close to him, worked his way very nigh to the enemy, and did the only shooting that was effective. We had neither drill nor any understanding among ourselves. The fight was much like a camp-meeting, or an election row. After it had lasted about ten or twelve minutes, an intelligent horse-holder came up from the rear, breathless, and announced that the enemy was flanking us, and that he had been largely reinforced. The receipt of this important intelligence necessitated the withdrawal of the forces, and every man withdrew after his own fashion and in his own time. Our loss, was one man slightly wounded and several shot through the clothes. It was as bloody as an affair between Austrian and Italian outposts.

The horse-bolder who brought the information which led to our retreat, was evidently one who had carefully studied the military articles in the newspapers, and spoke from the influence of a sudden recollection of the "science" he had thus acquired, rather than from accurate observation. This may be safely asserted, as we were not pursued by the enemy, and next day, upon returning, learned that they had commenced retreating about the same time that we did, and that they were but a scouting party like ourselves. Two or three men who got first to Green river, before Captain Morgan's report was received there, stated that we had encountered a strong Federal column advancing to drive our forces away from Woodsonville; that we had attacked, and after a hard fight checked it, but that unless Captain Morgan was immediately reinforced it would probably resume its march. This statement created much excitement at Woodsonville, and was generally credited. But Colonel Hanson treated the gentlemen who brought it rather roughly, and said (with an unnecessary reflection on a gallant arm of the service) that it was a "Cavalry Story."

Several days after this affair, Morgan made his first narrow escape of capture. Hanson determined to send a force to the Nolin outposts sufficiently strong to drive them in and create serious confusion and alarm in the Federal camps. He accordingly ordered the Major commanding the battalion of Tennessee cavalry, to take his entire force, about two hundred and forty men, and, conducted by Morgan, who went with twenty of his men, to make the attack upon the outposts. This force started about nightfall. Morgan thinking that there were now men enough upon the road to accomplish some of his most favorite plans, was in high spirits. His own men, who had never in their lives seen so much cavalry on the march, believed the column invincible.

The Tennesseeans who had long murmured at the inaction to which they had been condemned, were anxious for a fight. The Major arranged the plan with Captain Morgan—the latter was to get, with his twenty men, in the rear of the pickets on post, and then fire a gun. At this signal, the Major was to dash down with his battalion, and, picking up the pickets, charge down upon the base and reserve. In the meantime, Morgan expected to entertain the latter with an unlooked-for volley. It was proposed to push the plan as far as possible, even, if the first features were successfully and quickly executed, to an attack upon the camps.

But it happened that some five miles from Nolin, one of the country fellows, who was in the habit of running into the Federal lines at our approach, was surprised and arrested by Captain Morgan who was in the advance.

The women of whom there were several in the house where he was taken, made a terribly outcry and noise, and would not be pacified.

Captain Morgan moved on, but was shortly afterward informed by one of the men, that the Tennessee battalion had turned back. He rode to the Major and urged, but unsuccessfully, that the plan should not be abandoned. Determined, then, to go forward himself, he proceeded to the point where the pickets on the extreme front had usually stood, but they were gone. He halted his detachment here, and taking with him one of his best and most trusted men (private, afterward Captain John Sisson), started down the road on foot to reconnoiter. He had been gone but a short time, when the rear guard of the Tennessee battalion, about twenty strong, came up; it was commanded by Captain, afterward Colonel, Biffel. It seemed that the Major had conceived that the shrieks of the women would notify the enemy of his coming, and prevent his plan of surprising the picket posts and base from succeeding.

Finding that Morgan had still gone on, Biffel took advantage of his position in the rear of the returning battalion and came to support him. As soon as he got up and learned why we were halted, he turned into the thicket with his detachment, on the side of the road, opposite to that occupied by Morgan's. Just as he was doing this, a Federal column of cavalry came up the road, and hearing the noise of horses forcing they way through the brush, halted about one hundred yards from the point where we lay. The night was clear, and we could easily distinguish them in the moonlight. I had been left in command of the detachment, and would not permit the men to fire, lest it should endanger Captain Morgan's safety, who, if we were driven off, would probably be captured. I ordered, therefore, that not a shot should be fired, unless they resumed their march and came right upon us.

They remained at the spot where they had halted for perhaps twenty minutes, apparently in consultation, when they countermarched and went off rapidly. In a few minutes after they had disappeared, Captain Morgan and Sisson returned and gave an account of what had happened to them. They had walked along the road for fifteen or twenty minutes, when suddenly they heard the tramp of cavalry. They were in a stretch of the road darkened for some distance by the shade of heavy timber. This column came upon them, and they slipped aside some ten or fifteen paces into the woods. Captain Morgan estimated it at about one hundred and twenty men. After it had passed, it occurred to him that his men would be attacked by it, and he started back rapidly to rejoin them. The fatigue of running through the woods was soon too much for him and he was compelled to desist.

As he drew near to the point where he had left us and heard no firing, he conceived a true idea of the situation. Stealing cautiously along, he came upon the enemy, who, at the halt, had gone into the woods also. He was then compelled to lie closely concealed and perfectly still until the road was left clear by the retreat of the enemy. Fortunately his proximity was not discovered by the enemy when in this last situation.

Captain Morgan continued actively engaged in this sort of service until the troops were withdrawn from Woodsonville, when he was also ordered to Bowlinggreen. There the men were sworn into the service, the company regularly organized and officers elected. John H. Morgan was of course elected Captain; I was elected First Lieutenant; James West, Second Lieutenant; Van Buren Sellers, Third, or, more properly, Brevet Second Lieutenant. The strength of the company was then a little above the "minimum" required for organization, numbering sixty-seven privates.

Immediately after reaching Bowlinggreen, excellent horses were purchased and turned over to the company, by General Buckner's order, and saddles, bridles, tents, etc., were issued to it. It was already provided with the best guns and accouterments, and when the fitting up at Bowlinggreen was completed, no command in the Confederate service was better equipped, in any respect.

At this period two other companies, one commanded by Captain Thomas Allen of Shelbyville, Kentucky, and the other by Captain James Bowles of Louisville, but principally recruited in the neighborhood of Glasgow, were assigned to Captain Morgan's command at the earnest request of their officers and men. Bowles' company was not full, and was consolidated with another fragment of a company commanded by Lieutenant Churchill—the latter becoming First Lieutenant of the new organization.

The three companies composed "Morgan's Squadron," a popular misnomer by which, however, the command came, in a short time, to be regularly designated. Morgan's company became A, of this organization; Allen's, B; Bowles', C. The squadron remained quietly in camp, at Bowlinggreen, for two or three weeks after its organization. This time was profitably spent in instructing the men in drill and teaching them something of discipline. The first expedition taken after this, was to Grayson county, on the north side of Green river, to collect and bring to Bowlinggreen a large drove of cattle which had been purchased, but could not be brought out without a guard.

The "Home-guards" held this county in strong force; they had long expected a Confederate inroad, and had sternly determined to punish the invaders when they came. The squadron reached the ferry, at which it was directed to cross at night. We found the boats sunken, but raised them, filled up the holes bored in their bottoms, bailed them out, and by eight o'clock next morning we had one company across. The day was spent in crossing the cattle to the southern side of the river.

On the following evening, the entire squadron was transferred to the north side of the river and passed the night agreeably in chasing the Home-guards, who did not make a hard fight, but ran off some twenty or thirty miles to a neighboring county to "rally."

Shortly after his return to Bowlinggreen, from this expedition, Captain Morgan was ordered to the front again, and reported to Brigadier General Hindman, who commanded a brigade of infantry and a strong force of cavalry, in all three thousand or thirty-five hundred men, upon the extreme front of our line.

General Hindman's headquarters were at Bell's tavern, twenty-five miles from Bowlinggreen, and thirteen from Woodsonville, then occupied by the enemy, who had advanced to Green river, ten or fifteen days after we left there.

It would, perhaps, be more correct to say, that the enemy held Munfordsville, for although Woodsonville was virtually in his possession, and completely at his disposal, there were, at that date, none of his regiments encamped on the southern side of the river.

A few days before Morgan's arrival, had occurred the fight, in which Colonel Terry, of the Eighth Texas Cavalry (better known then as Terry's Rangers), was killed, and of which so many contradictory versions have prevailed. The Northern account has often been published, and if the many later and more important events have not crowded it out of memory, is familiar to all who read the Northern newspapers at that time. Without presuming to give a minute account of the fight, for I did not witness it, nor have I ever seen a report of it, I can present, in a few words, the idea which I derived from the description of men who were present, and which was generally received, just after the fight, in our army.

General Hindman had received information that a strong body of the enemy had crossed the river, and desiring to ascertain if this movement was preliminary to an advance of the entire army, he moved forward with the greater part of his infantry, some artillery and Terry's regiment of cavalry, to reconnoiter, and, perhaps, contest an advance, if it were made. When he arrived at the ground upon which the fight commenced, about three miles from the river, he discovered the enemy, and, supposing his force to be not stronger than his own, determined to engage him.