History of Morgan's Cavalry. Duke Basil Wilson
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Upon the north side of the Cumberland, and about eight miles from it in a direct line, is the little town of Gallatin, in Sumner County, Tennessee. It is situated on the Louisville and Nashville road, about thirty miles from Nashville. This place was one of no military importance at that time, but it was right upon the line of communication between Louisville and Nashville – the roads running from Kentucky, as well as the railroad, all passing through it – and the line of telegraph. This place is about fifty miles from Murfreesboro', by the most direct route. Morgan resolved to hold this place for a day or two, and get the benefit of the "communication" himself. He left Murfreesboro' about midday, passed through Lebanon that evening, and encamped for the night near that place. Crossing the Cumberland next morning at Canoe-branch ferry, he reached Gallatin about ten o'clock. He found the town ungarrisoned, two or three clerks to take care of unimportant stores, and a telegraph operator, constituting all the force there was to oppose him. The citizens of this place were always strongly attached to the Confederate cause, and devoted friends of Morgan and his command – for which they subsequently suffered no little – and they received him enthusiastically. This neighborhood was always noted for good cheer, and, on this occasion, dainties of all kinds appeared as if by magic, and bouquets were showered by the score. Desiring the latest information from Nashville, Morgan, accompanied by Colonel Wood, went straight to the telegraph office, where they were kindly received by the operator, to whom they introduced themselves as Federal officers just from the interior of Kentucky. The operator immediately placed himself in communication with Nashville and got the last news for their benefit. The conversation then turned on Morgan. "The clerk of the lightning" said that he had not yet disturbed them at Gallatin, but that he might be expected any day: "However," he continued, "let him come, I, for one, am ready for him." He told the story of Morgan's coming to Mitchell's lines with the flag of truce (which, it seems, had raised great excitement), and declared that he ought to have been shot then and there. "Had I been there," said he, fiercely, and brandishing his revolver, "the scoundrel would have never left alive."
"Give me that pistol," Morgan said quietly; and, taking it, much to the fellow's surprise, "I am Morgan."
The consternation of the operator was extreme, and his apology, when he found his tongue, polite. It was accepted, and so was he and placed under guard. He was badly scared, at first, but he was treated kindly, and in a few days became domesticated and even playful. An engine and a few cars, found standing at the depot, were taken possession of – the cars were immediately burned. Morgan got on the engine with two or three companions, and run some miles up the railroad to visit two or three points of interest. He desired especially to ascertain if the tunnel could readily be destroyed, but found that it would be a work of more time than he had to spare. While he was absent, several Federal officers and soldiers came into the town and were made prisoners. When he returned, the engine was run off the track, over a steep bank, and destroyed. On the next morning he sent the bulk of his command across the river again, with instructions to remain near and guard the ferry. He, himself, with ten or fifteen men, remained at Gallatin two days longer with the hope of catching some of the trains. He was disappointed, the news got around and none came. Twenty or thirty wagons which were coming from Scottsville, under a small guard, were also turned back – the escort getting the alarm after he had made all his preparations to capture them – so that his expedition was more barren of the spoils of war than he had hoped. But his main object – to persuade the enemy that they could never safely count upon his being "gone" – was perfectly accomplished. While his men on the south side of the river were waiting for him, six transports, loaded with troops from Monticello, passed down toward Nashville. The men on the boats did not know who the cavalry were, and our men were afraid to fire upon them, lest they might endanger Captain Morgan and their comrades with him, on the other side. Immediately after his return to Murfreesboro', he set out to rejoin the army, and met at Shelbyville that portion of his command which had been encamped on the Shelbyville and Nashville road, and which, in obedience to his orders, had also repaired to the former place.
Here we remained for two or three days and then marched on in the track of the army. While at Shelbyville, the first and only causeless stampede of our pickets and false alarm to the camps which occurred during our squadron organization, took place. Ten or fifteen men were posted on picket some eight miles from the town toward Nashville, near a small bridge, at the southern end of which the extreme outpost vidette stood. From tales told by the citizens, these pickets had conceived the idea that the enemy contemplated an attack to surprise and capture them, and (perhaps for the very reason that they had so often played the same game themselves) they became very nervous about it. Late in the night, two men came down the road from toward Nashville in a buggy, and drove rapidly upon the bridge without heeding the vidette's challenge – he, taking them to be the enemy, shot both barrels of his gun at them and fled to alarm the other videttes and his comrades at the base. The whole party became so alarmed by his representation of the immense number and headlong advance of the enemy, that, without stopping to fight or reconnoiter, they all came in a hand-gallop to camp. The officer in charge sent the vidette who had given the alarm, in advance, to report to me. I immediately got the command under arms and then questioned him. He stated that the enemy's cavalry came on, at the charge, in column of fours, that they paid no attention to his challenge, and that when he fired, they dashed at him, making the air ring with their yells and curses. He said that "the road seemed perfectly blue for more than half a mile," so great was their number.
It was a moonless night, and a slight rain was falling, making the darkness intense. I asked him if he might not have been deceived and if he was not scared. "No, sir," said he, "not a bit, but I was somewhat arrytated."
Leaving Shelbyville, we marched through Fayetteville to Huntsville; every where along the route the people flocked to see Morgan, and his progress was one continual ovation. When we reached Huntsville, the most beautiful town in Alabama (and now that Columbia is in ashes) perhaps in the entire South, we were received with the kindness and hospitality which characterize that generous, warm-hearted population. Huntsville, the birth-place of Morgan, greeted him like a mother indeed. For ten days we remained there; every man in the command the recipient of unwearying attention. It was very injurious to good soldierly habits, but served, as many other such instances did, to show the men that they were fighting for a people who loved to be grateful, and to prove it – and unavailing as the struggle was, it is still a thought of pride and satisfaction, that the labors and sacrifices were made for a people worthy of them all.
Crossing the Tennessee river at Decatur and marching just in the track of the army, we reached Byrnesville, a few miles from Corinth, on the third of April, and found there the division of General Breckinridge, to which we were attached. The whole army was then astir, and forming to march to attack the enemy who lay at Pittsburg Landing on the southern bank of the Tennessee some twenty miles from Corinth.
Morgan's services were much talked of, and he was complimented by General Johnson in terms that were very grateful to him. He was given the commission of Colonel, to take effect from the fourth of April, and he received (what he valued much more highly) an assurance, or what he construed to be such, that he would be permitted to act independently again, and follow his favorite service with a stronger force and upon a larger scale.
None among the many ardent and high-strung men who went with so much zeal into that fight, felt more hope and enthusiasm than Morgan, for he saw beyond it, a career of excitement, success, and glory, that might satisfy the most energetic and most daring nature.
CHAPTER VII
On the 3rd of April, the army, leaving its cantonments around Corinth, commenced its advance, and the heads of the columns were directed toward Pittsburg, on the Tennessee river, where, unconscious of the gathering storm, lay the Federal host under General Grant, which had conquered at Donelson. Flushed with that victory and insolent with triumph, the enemy rested for the long march