History of Morgan's Cavalry Part 22

At last, in March 1864, all were removed to Fort Delaware, and the change was as if living men, long buried in subterranean vaults, had been restored to upper earth. About the same time one hundred and ten officers of Morgan's division, who had been confined in the Pennsylvania Penitentiary, were transferred to Point Lookout. These officers described the treatment which they received as having been much better than that adopted toward us, yet one of their number had become insane. All that I have attempted to describe, however, must have been ease and luxury compared with the hardship, hunger and harsh cruelty inflicted upon the Confederate private soldiers imprisoned at Camps Morton and Dougla.s.s and at Rock Island. These men would often actually pick up and devour the sc.r.a.ps thrown out of the scavenger carts. Some of them froze to death-insufficient fuel was furnished, when it was furnished at all, and the clothing sent them by friends was rarely given them. The men of my regiment told me of treatment, inflicted upon them at Camp Dougla.s.s, which if properly described and ill.u.s.trated with engravings, and if attributed to Confederate instead of Federal officials, would throw the whole North into convulsions. Many of these men, of this regiment, had escaped in the first two or three months of their imprisonment, and a bitter hatred was then excited against the less fortunate. They were, in some instances, tied up and beaten with the belts of the guards, until the print of the bra.s.s buckles were left on the flesh; others were made to sit naked on snow and ice, until palsied with cold; others, again were made to "ride Morgan's mule" (as a scantling frame, of ten or twelve feet in hight, was called), the peculiar and beautiful feature of this method of torture, was the very sharp back of "the mule." Sometimes, heavy blocks, humorously styled spurs, were attached to the feet of the rider. As for the shooting of men for crossing the "dead line" (upon which, so much stress has been laid in accounts of Andersonville), that was so well understood, that it was scarcely thought worthy of mention. But an elaborate description of life in the Federal prisons is unnecessary.

The eighty thousand Confederate prisoners of 1864 and 1865, or rather the survivors of that host, have already told it far better than I can, in their Southern homes, and we have had sufficient experience of the value of sympathy away from home, to make no effort for it. Moreover, a contest with the Yankee journalists is too unequal-they really write so well, and are so liberal in their ideas regarding the difference between fact and falsehood, have so little prejudice for, or against either, that they possess, and employ, a tremendous advantage. And then the pictorials-a special artist has only to catch a conception, in a Philadelphia or New York hospital, and straightway he works off an "Andersonville prisoner," which carries conviction to those who can not read the essay, upon the same subject, by his co-laborers with the pen. What chance has a Southern writer against men who possess such resources? At Fort Delaware, General Schoeff, the commandant, placed some eighteen or twenty of us in the rooms built in the casemates of the fort, and allowed us, for some time, the privilege of walking about the island, upon our giving him our paroles not to attempt escape.

General M. Jeff. Thompson, of Missouri, was the only Confederate officer at that prison, before our party arrived, but many others from Camp Chase, came about the same time. General Thompson's military career, is well known to his countrymen, but only his prison companions know how kind and manly he can be under circ.u.mstances which severely try the temper. His unfailing flow of spirits kept every one else, in his vicinity cheerful and his hopefulness was contagious. He possessed, also, an amazing poetical genius. He wrote with surprising fluency, and his finest compositions cost him neither trouble nor thought. Shut him up in a room with plenty of stationery, and in twenty-four hours, he would write himself up to the chin in verse. His muse was singularly prolific and her progeny various. He roamed recklessly through the realm of poesy. Every style seemed his-blank verse and rhyme, ode and epic, lyrical and tragical, satiric and elegiac, sacred and profane, sublime and ridiculous, he was equally good at all. His poetry might not perhaps have stood a very strict cla.s.sification, but he produced a fair, marketable sample, which deserved (his friends thought) to be quoted at as liberal figures as some about which much more was said. General Thompson would doubtless have been more successful as a poet, if he had been a less honest and practical business man. He persisted in having some meaning in all that he wrote, and only a first cla.s.s poet can afford to do that.

The cunning New England method is also the safest in the long run-when a versifier suspects that he lacks the true inspiration, he had better try the confidence game, and induce the public to admire by writing that which no one can understand. It would seem, too, that writing poetry and playing on the fiddle have this much in common, that a true genius at either is fit for nothing else. The amateurs can take care of themselves, but the born-masters display an amiable worthlessness for every thing but their art. Now General Thompson was thoroughly wide-awake and competent in all practical matters.

At Fort Delaware the prevailing topic of conversation was exchange; men who were destined to many another weary month of imprisonment, sustained themselves with the hope that it would soon come. At last a piece of good fortune befell some of us. It was announced that General Jones, the officer in command at Charleston, had placed fifty Federal officers in a part of the city where they would be exposed to danger from the batteries of the besiegers. An order was issued that fifty Confederate officers, of corresponding rank, should be selected for retaliation. Five general and forty-five field officers were accordingly chosen from the different prisons, Fort Delaware furnishing a large delegation for that purpose. The general officers selected were Major General Frank Gardner, the gallant and skillful commander of Port Hudson; Major-General Edward Johnson, one of the fighting Generals of the army of Northern Virginia (which is to say one of the bravest of the very brave), and a true man, whose sterling worth, intelligence and force of character would win him respect and influence wherever those qualities were valued; Brigadier-General Stewart, of the Maryland brigade, another officer who had won promotion in that heroic army of Northern Virginia, and had identified his name with its deathless fame. There was still another of these fortunate men-fortunate in having helped to win fields where Confederate soldiers had immortalized the t.i.tle-Brigadier-General Archer was the fourth general officer. A favorite officer of General A.P. Hill, he was in every respect worthy of a hero's friendship and confidence. The fifth was Brigadier-General M. Jeff. Thompson. Among the field officers who went were seven of the penitentiary prisoners-Colonels Ward, Morgan, and Tucker, Majors Webber, Steele, and Higley and myself.

We left our comrades with a regret, felt for their bad fortune, for we felt a.s.sured that our apparent ill-luck would terminate in an exchange. Colonel Coleman, who had been confined in the Fort with the party of which so many were sent on this "expedition," was bitterly disappointed at being left behind, and we regretted it equally as much. Three of our companions through so many vicissitudes, we never saw again-three of the worthiest-Captains Griffin, Mullins, and Wardour died shortly afterward.

On the 26th of June, we were put on board of a steamer, and puffed away down the Delaware river. It was confidently affirmed that we were going to be placed on Morris Island, where the Charleston batteries would have fair play at us, so that our friends (blissfully unconscious of how disagreeable they were making themselves) might speedily finish us. The prospect was not absolutely inviting, but after the matter was talked over, and General Gardner, especially, consulted (as he had most experience in heavy artillery), we felt more easy. General Thompson, who had fought that way a good deal, said that "a man's chance to be struck by lightning was better than to be hit by a siege gun." This consoled me very little, for I had all my life been nervously afraid of lightning. However, we at last settled it unanimously that, while we would perhaps be badly frightened by the large bombs, there was little likelihood of many being hurt, and, at any rate, the risk was very slight compared with the brilliant hope of its resulting in exchange.

After we got fairly to sea, very little thought was wasted on other matters. The captain of the vessel, said that there was "no sea on," or some such gibberish, and talked as if we were becalmed, at the very time that his tipsy old boat was bobbing about like a green rider on a trotting horse. It is a matter of indifference, what sort of metal encased the hearts of those who first tempted the fury of the seas, but they must have had stomachs lined with mahogany. It is difficult to believe men, when they unblushingly declare that they go to sea for pleasure. There has been a great deal of pretentious declamation about the poetry and beauty of the ocean.

Some people go off into raptures about a "vast expanse" of dirty salt water, which must, in the nature of things, be a.s.sociated in every one's mind with sick stomachs and lost dinners. The same people get so tired of their interminable view of poetry, that they will nearly crowd each other overboard, to get sight of a stray flying fish, or porpoise, or the back fin of a shark sticking out of the water. This trip to Hilton Head came near taking the poetry out of General Thompson.

Ten of us were lodged in a cabin on the upper deck, where we did very well, except that for one half of the time we were too sick to eat any thing, and for the other half we were rolling and tumbling about in such a manner that we could think of nothing but keeping off of the cabin's roof. The others were stowed away "amidships," or in some other place, down stairs, and as all the ports and air-holes were shut up, when the steamer began to wallow about, they were nearly smothered, and their nausea was greatly increased. They were compelled to bear it, for they could not force their way on deck and they had nothing with which to scuttle the ship. One western officer declared to me afterward, that he seriously thought, at one time, that he had thrown up his boot heels.

When we reached Hilton Head, we were transferred to the brig "Dragoon" (a small vessel lying in the harbor), and she was then anch.o.r.ed under the guns of the frigate Wabash. Here we remained five weeks. The weather was intensely hot. During the day we were allowed to go on deck, in reliefs of twenty-five each, and stay alternate hours, but at night we were forced to remain below decks. A large stove (in full blast until after nightfall), at one end of the hold in which we were confined, did not make the temperature any more agreeable. The ports were kept shut up, for fear that some of the party would jump out and swim eight miles to the South Carolina sh.o.r.e. As there were fifty soldiers guarding us and three ship's boats (full of men), moored to the vessel, there was little reason to apprehend any thing of the kind.

The sharks would have been sufficient to have deterred any of us from attempting to escape in that way. There was a difference of opinion regarding their appet.i.te for human flesh, but no man was willing to personally experiment in the matter. A constant negotiation was going on during these five weeks, between the authorities at Hilton Head and Charleston, which seemed once or twice on the point of being broken off, but fortunately managed each time to survive.

We were never taken to Morris' Island, although our chances for that situation, seemed more than once, extremely good. Subsequently a party of six hundred Confederate officers were taken there, and quartered where they would have the full benefit of the batteries. None, however, were injured by the sh.e.l.ls, but three fourths of them were reduced to a condition (almost as bad as death), by scurvy and other diseases, brought about by exposure and bad food. At last, on the 1st of August, it was authoritatively announced that we were to be taken on the next day to Charleston to be exchanged. Only those who have themselves been prisoners, can understand what our feelings then were-when the hope that had become as necessary to our lives as the breath we drew, was at length about to be realized. That night there was little sleep among the fifty-but they pa.s.sed it in alternate raptures of congratulation at their good luck, or shivering apprehension lest, after all, something might occur to prevent it.

But when the next day came and we were all transferred to a steamer, and her head was turned for Charleston, we began to master all doubts and fears. We reached Charleston harbor very early on the morning of the 3rd, lay at anchor for two or three hours, and then steamed slowly in toward the city, until we pa.s.sed the last monitor, and halted again. In a short time, a small boat came out from Charleston, with the fifty Federal prisoners on board and officers of General Jones' staff, authorized to conclude the exchange. When she came alongside, the final arrangements were effected, but not until a mooted point had threatened to break off the negotiation altogether. Happily for us, we knew nothing of this difficulty until it was all over, but we were made very nervous by the delay. When all the details were settled, we were transferred to the Confederate boat, and the Federal officers were brought on board of the steamer which we left; then touching hats to the crew we parted from, we bade our captivity farewell.

Twelve months of imprisonment, of absence from all we loved, was over at last. No man of that party could describe his feelings intelligibly-a faint recollection of circ.u.mstances is all that can be recalled in such a tumult of joy. As we pa.s.sed down the bay, the gallant defenders of those works around Charleston, the names of which have become immortal, stood upon the parapets and cheered to us, and we answered like men who were hailing for life. The huge guns, which lay like so many grim watch dogs around the city, thundered a welcome, the people of the heroic city crowded to the wharves to receive us. If anything could repay us for the wretchedness of long imprisonment and our forced separation from families and friends, we found it in the unalloyed happiness of that day.

General Jones had then (and has now), the profound grat.i.tude of fifty of his comrades. Ever doing his duty bravely and unflinchingly, he had, now, ransomed from the enemy, men who would have consented to undergo any ordeal for that boon. The citizens of Charleston hastened to offer us the traditional hospitality of their city. General Jones had informed them of the names of our party, and they had settled among themselves where each man was to be taken care of. If that party of "ransomed sinners" shall ever become "praying members" the Charlestonians will have a large share in their pet.i.tions.

But the recollection of our gallant comrades left behind would intrude itself and make us sad, ever in the midst of our good fortune. Some of them were not released until the summer after the close of the war.

No men deserve more praise for constancy than the Confederate prisoners, especially the private soldiers, who in the trials to which they were subjected steadfastly resisted every inducement to violate the faith they had pledged to the cause.

A statistical item may not come amiss, in concluding this chapter. There were, in all during the war, 261,000 Northern prisoners in Southern prisons, and 200,000 Confederate prisoners in Northern prisons; 22,576 Northern prisoners died, and 22,535 Confederate prisoners died; or two Federals died out of every twenty-three, and two Confederates died out of every fifteen.

CHAPTER XVI

The men who made their escape from Ohio, after the disastrous fight at Buffington, marched for many a weary mile through the mountains of Virginia. At last, worn down and half famished, they gained the Confederate lines, and first found rest at the beautiful village of Wytheville, in Southwestern Virginia.

Thence they pa.s.sed leisurely down the fair valley, not then scarred by the cruel ravages of war, to the vicinity of Knoxville. Colonel Adam R. Johnson then endeavored to collect and organize them all. "On the-of August, 1863," says an officer who was a valuable a.s.sistant in this work, "Colonel Johnson issued orders, under instructions from General Buckner, Department Commander, for all men belonging to Morgan's command to report to him (Colonel J.) at Morristown, in East Tennessee. These orders were published in the Knoxville papers, and upon it becoming known that there was a place of rendezvous, every man who had been left behind when General Morgan started on the Ohio raid now pushed forward eagerly to the point designated. When that expedition was undertaken, many had been sent back from Albany as guards for returning trains, and because their horses were unserviceable. Many, too, had to be left on account of sickness or disability from wounds. In a week or ten days, Colonel Johnson had collected between four and five hundred men (including those who made their escape from Ohio) in his camp at Morristown. These men were organized into two battalions-one commanded by Captain Kirkpatrick, representing the first brigade of the division, and the other commanded by Captain Dortch, representing the second brigade.

"The camp was well selected, with wood and water in abundance, and plenty of forage in the neighborhood. Colonel J. was making great efforts to have the men paid off, and properly armed, clothed, etc., when the enemy moved upon Knoxville. The evacuation of that place by our troops made it necessary for us to leave our comfortable resting place. We immediately broke camp at Morristown, and joined General Buckner, who was moving to reinforce General Bragg in front of Chattanooga. * * * * * At Calhoun, the men were paid off, and received a scanty supply of clothing. Many of them had not been paid before for fourteen months. From Calhoun we were ordered to Lafayette, from Lafayette to Dalton, thence to Tunnel Hill. On the morning of the 18th of September, the whole army moved out for battle. Our small force, was ordered to report to General Forrest, and did so about ten a.m. on the field. We were immediately deployed as skirmishers, mounted, in front of Hood's division, of Longstreet's Corps, just come from Virginia. As the men galloped by Forrest, he called to them in language which inspired them with still higher enthusiasm. He urged them to do their whole duty in the battle. He spoke of their chief, who had been insulted with a felon's treatment, and was then lying in the cell of a penitentiary. He gave them 'Morgan' for a battle-cry, and bade them maintain their old reputation.

"The infantry objected to having 'the d-d cavalry' placed in front of them in a fight. But they did not easily catch up with 'the d-d cavalry.' After moving briskly forward for perhaps half a mile, through the tangled undergrowth of pine, the clear crack of rifles told that the enemy was on the alert. Driving in their pickets, we pushed on and found a regiment of cavalry in line to receive us. This fled upon the receipt of the first volley. The undergrowth was too thick for maneuvering on horseback, and we were dismounted and advanced at double-quick. Our boys were anxious to drive the enemy and keep them going without letting the infantry overtake us. The enemy first engaged fell back upon a supporting regiment. We soon drove both back upon a third. By this time our small 'Lay out' found the fighting rather interesting. Engaging three time our number, and attacking every position the enemy chose, was very glorious excitement, but rather more of it than our mouths watered for. Yet no man faltered-all rushed on as reckless of the opposing array of danger as of their own alignment.

"The enemy had formed in the edge of a woods, in front of which was an open field. This field was fought over again and again, each side charging alternately, and forced back. At last a charge upon our part, led by Lieutenant Colonel Martin, was successful. The enemy fell back still further. We now saw clearly from many indications, and were told by prisoners, that the Federal line of battle, the main force, was not far off. We, therefore, moved more cautiously. Just about sundown, we found the enemy's cavalry drawn up directly in front of the infantry, but they made little resistance. After one or two volleys, they fell back behind the protecting 'Web-feet.' Night falling stopped all further operations for that day. We camped in line of battle, and picketed in front. On the morning of the 19th, we were ordered to report to Colonel Scott, and found him engaging the enemy on our extreme right, at the 'Red House.' Colonel Scott gave us position, dismounted, and put us in. The fighting continued at intervals throughout the day.

"Late in the evening Scott made a vigorous charge and drove the enemy handsomely. We learned from prisoners that we had been fighting a select body of infantry commanded by General Whitaker of Kentucky, which had been detailed to guard the ford, here, across the Chickamauga. The fighting ceased at nightfall and we were again camped in line of battle. The fighting of the next day was very similar to that of the previous ones-the enemy falling back slowly with his face toward us. But late in the evening the retreat became a rout. The army made no attack on the 21st. In the afternoon Colonel Scott was sent with his brigade over Missionary ridge into the valley, and engaged a few scattered cavalry and an Illinois regiment of infantry-capturing nearly all of the latter before they could reach the works around Chattanooga. Forming his brigade Colonel Scott sent a portion of our command, on foot, to reconnoiter the enemy's position. The reconnoitering party drove in the pickets, took the outside rifle pits, and forced the enemy to their breastworks and forts.

"This closed the battle of Chickamauga-Morgan's men firing the first and last shot in that terrible struggle.

"General Forrest and Colonel Scott, both complimented our little command more than once during the battle. Immediately after the battle, the entire cavalry of the Army of Tennessee was actively employed. The two battalions of our command were separated. Dortch going with Forrest up the Chattanooga and Knoxville railroad. Kirkpatrick went with Wheeler on his raid through Middle Tennessee. Dortch was in the fight (against Woolford) at Philadelphia-in the skirmishes at Loudon and Marysville, and was at the siege of Knoxville. Kirkpatrick's battalion was at the fights at McMinnville, Murfreesboro', Shelbyville and Sugar creek. In the latter fight, Wheeler's whole force fell back rapidly, and Kirkpatrick was kept in the rear until we reached the Tennessee river. When we returned to the army, Kirkpatrick's battalion was placed on severe picket duty-its line extending from the mouth of the Chickamauga up the Tennessee some three miles, where it connected with the line of the First Kentucky cavalry.

"This duty was exceedingly heavy. The pickets stood in squads of three every four hundred yards, with mounted patrols to ride the length of the whole line. One would suppose that men who had ridden through the States of Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Virginia and Georgia, and been in as many as twenty-five or thirty engagements, in the s.p.a.ce of three months, would be completely worn out, discouraged, and disheartened. Not so, however, the few left were willing and anxious to thoroughly do soldier's duty."

The writer goes on to narrate how after all these trials, came the order to dismount Morgan's men-generous reward for their toil and sacrifices. He speaks of Forrest's gallant stand against it-preventing the execution of the order, but costing the high-souled chief his own command, forcing him to seek other fields of enterprise, and with an organization of conscripts and absentees win fights that a romancer would not dare to imagine. He speaks, too, of unhappy dissensions among officers which added to the discouraging condition of the little command.

But the brave fellows patiently endured all-watching and hoping fondly for the return of the imprisoned leader. The two battalions were at length placed in a brigade commanded by Colonel Grigsby; in which were the Ninth and First Kentucky.

The writer describes the dreary days and long cold nights of that winter. The arduous duty-men shivering through the dark, dragging hours, with eyes fixed on the enemy's signal lights burning on Waldron's ridge and Lookout mountain. Then the Federal battalions pouring, one night, across the river-the bright blaze and quick crash of rifles, suddenly breaking out along the picket line. The hurried saddling and rapid reinforcement, but the steady Federal advance driving the cavalry back. Even amid the snarl of musketry and roar of cannon, could be heard the splash of the boats plying from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e. Couriers were sent to army headquarters, with the information, but, losing their way in the pitch darkness, did not report until day light. Next day came the grand Federal attack and the terrible and unaccountable "stampede" of the entire Confederate army from Missionary ridge-that army which a few weeks before had won the great victory of Chickamauga.

When General Bragg halted at Dalton, this brigade was again posted on the front and suffered, hungry, half clad (many barefooted), through that awful winter.

But a great joy awaited them-before the spring came it brought them relief. General Morgan made his way safely (after his escape) to the Confederate lines. All along his route through South Carolina and Georgia, he was met by a series of heart-felt ovations. Crowds flocked to congratulate him. All the people united in greeting him. The officials in all the towns he visited, prepared his reception. The highest and lowest in the land were alike eager to do him honor. The recollection of his former career and the romantic incidents of his escape combined to create a wonderful interest in him. Perhaps no man ever received such a welcome from the people of his choice. At Richmond, the interest manifested in him knew no bounds. He was the guest of the city for weeks-but none others felt the true and earnest satisfaction at his deliverance and return, which repaid the devoted band of his followers who had so anxiously looked for him. The Morgan men felt, in the knowledge that their idolized leader was safe, a consolation for all that they had endured.

General Morgan's first care, upon arriving at Richmond, was to strongly urge measures which he thought would conduce, if not to the release, at least to a mitigation of the rigorous treatment of his officers and men in prison. He repeatedly brought the subject to the notice of the Confederate authorities, but perfect indifference was manifested regarding it. The officials found nothing in their soft berths at Richmond which could enable them to realize the discomforts of a prison, and the chances of their own captivity appeared so remote that they really could not sympathize with those who had the ill-luck to be captured. Just before leaving Richmond, General Morgan addressed a letter to President Davis, dated the 24th of March, in which he declared that, while imperatively summoned by a sense of duty to place himself at the head of the remnant of his old division, which was still in the field, he desired to earnestly press the claims of those who were captive to the best offices of their Government. No men, he said, better deserved than his own "the proud t.i.tle of Confederate soldiers," and none had a better right to expect that every effort would be made by their countrymen in their behalf. He stated that in his entire service, "not one act of cruelty was ever committed by men of my command, but prisoners of war met with uniform good treatment at our hands." In response to all this, Commissioner Ould made a public protest against the treatment of the officers confined in the penitentiaries, and was a.s.sured that their condition was good enough and would not be bettered.

General Morgan was naturally desirous of having all of the men of his old command a.s.signed him, but in this he was grievously disappointed. Breckinridge's regiment, the Ninth Kentucky, was positively refused him; nor was he permitted to have Dortch's battalion, although it was composed of men from more than one regiment of his old division, the bulk of which was in prison. Kirkpatrick's battalion pet.i.tioned to be a.s.signed to him, immediately that the news of his arrival within the Confederate lines was known. General Morgan was, in this respect, the victim of an utterly absurd policy regarding organization and discipline, which was prevalent about this time among the military sages at Richmond. Some other equally insane idea having just gone out of date, this one was seized on with all the enthusiasm with which theorists adopt fancies costing them nothing but the exercise of a crazy imagination. It is hard to combat a fantasy. Three years of warfare had elapsed, and the red-tape and closet warriors suddenly discovered and gravely declared a reform which was to produce a military millenium. All officers were to be removed from the commands with which they had served during these three years, and placed elsewhere. This reform was to pervade the army. This separation of officers and men who had learned mutual trust in each other, was intended to produce a perfect and harmonious discipline. A commander who had acquired the confidence and love of his men, was, in the opinion of the Richmond gentry, a dangerous man-such a feeling between troops and officers was highly irregular and injurious. They thought that the best way to improve the morale of the army was to destroy all that (in common opinion) goes to make it.

They said that this policy would make the army "a machine," and it would be difficult to conceive of a more utterly worthless machine than it would have then been. It is highly probable that, under certain conditions, the Southern boys can be disciplined. If a few of them were caught up at a time, and were penned up in barracks for five or six years, so that a fair chance could be had at them, they might perhaps be made automatons, as solemn and amenable as the Dutch of the "old army." But it was absolutely impossible to so discipline the thousands of volunteers who were suddenly organized and initiated at once into campaigns and the most arduous duties of the field. In the lack of this discipline, it was imperatively necessary to cherish between officers and men the most cordial relations, and to leave always in command those officers whose characters and services had inspired love, confidence, and respect.

In the spring of 1864, General Morgan was sent to take command of the Department of Southwestern Virginia, and which included also a portion of East Tennessee.

The forces at his disposal were two Kentucky cavalry brigades and the militia, or "reserves," of that region. One of these brigades of cavalry had been previously commanded by General George B. Hodge, and was subsequently commanded by General Cosby. The other was commanded by Colonel Giltner. Both were composed of fine material, and were together some two thousand or twenty-five hundred strong.

Kirkpatrick's battalion had pa.s.sed the latter part of the winter and early part of spring at Decatur, Georgia, a small village near Atlanta. Here it enjoyed comparative rest and comfort. The men recovered from the effects of previous hardships, and the effective strength of the command was more than doubled by men who escaped from prison, or who, having been absent upon various pretexts, hurried back as soon as they learned of General Morgan's return.

Leaving Decatur in April, the battalion marched leisurely through Georgia and South and North Carolina-receiving everywhere the greatest kindness at the hands of the citizens-and reported, in early May, to General Morgan at Saltville in Western Virginia. Almost immediately after its arrival, it was called upon to again confront the enemy.

Upon the 8th or 9th of May, the intelligence was received of the advance of strong columns of the enemy; the department was threatened, simultaneously, by a raid upon the salt works, and the approach of a heavy force of infantry and cavalry to Dublin depot, not far from New river bridge. The cavalry column advancing upon Saltville was commanded by General Averill, and the other by General Crook. It was of the utmost importance to repulse both. The former, if successful, would capture the salt works, and the lead mines near Wytheville, and the loss of either would have been a great and irreparable disaster; the latter, if established at New river, or that vicinity, would entirely cut off communication with Richmond, prevent the transmission of supplies, from all the region westward, to General Lee's army and might do incalculable damages besides. It was necessary then that battle should be given to both, and that they should be crippled to some extent, if too strong to be defeated.

The dismounted cavalry of the department-most of which were men of Morgan's old division-about four hundred strong, were sent to reinforce the troops under General Jenkins. The latter had fallen back before Crook to Dublin depot. General Morgan prepared with Giltner's brigade, and the mounted men of his old command, now formed into two battalions commanded by Captains Kirkpatrick and Ca.s.sell, and about six hundred strong in all, to fight Averill. The two battalions of Kirkpatrick and Ca.s.sell, or the "Morgan brigade," as the organization was then called, were placed under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Alston.

On the 9th, General Morgan became convinced, from reports of his scouts, that Averill did not intend to attack Saltville but that he was about to march on Wytheville. Leaving Saltville on the 10th, General Morgan followed upon the track of the enemy to the junction of the Jeffersonville and Wytheville and Jeffersonville and Crab Orchard roads. Here Averill had taken the Crab Orchard road, designing, General Morgan believed, to induce a close pursuit.

Had General Morgan followed upon his track, Averill, by the judicious employment of a comparatively small force, could have held him in check in the mountains, and could himself have turned upon Wytheville, captured the provost-guard there, destroyed the military stores, the lead mines, and torn up the railroad, rendering it useless for weeks.

General Morgan therefore moved directly through Burk's garden to Wytheville, thus (taking the shorter road) antic.i.p.ating his wily adversary. Reaching Wytheville some hours in advance of his command. General Morgan placed a small detachment of General Jones' brigade of cavalry, which he found there, under Colonel George Crittenden and ordered that officer to occupy a small pa.s.s in the mountain between "Crocket's Cave" and Wytheville, through which the enemy would have to advance upon the town, or else be forced to make a wide detour.

On the afternoon of the 11th, the command reached Wytheville and were received by the terrified citizens with the heartiest greetings. The little town had been once captured by the Federals and a portion of it burned. The ladies clapped their hands and waved their handkerchiefs joyfully in response to the a.s.surances of the men that the enemy should not come in sight of the town. Fortunately, while the men were resting near Wytheville, their attention was attracted by the efforts of a squad of citizens to handle an old six-pounder which "belonged to the town." A good deal of laughter was occasioned by their impromptu method.

General Morgan, having no artillery, at once took charge of it and called for volunteers to man it. Edgar Davis and Jerome Clark of Captain Cantrill's company and practical artillerists came forward and were placed in command of the piece.

About 3 p.m., the enemy engaged Colonel Crittenden at the gap. The column was immediately put in motion and marched briskly in the direction of the firing. When near the gap, it filed to the left, and moving around the mountain and through the skirting woods, was soon in line, upon the right flank and threatening the rear of the enemy. Alston's brigade was formed on the right, occupying an open field, extending from Giltner's left to the mountain. The enemy at the first intimation of this movement had withdrawn from the mouth of the gap and was advantageously posted upon a commanding ridge. Both brigades were dismounted, under a smart fire from sharpshooters, and advanced rapidly, driving in the skirmishers and coming down upon the enemy (before his formation was entirely completed), they dislodged him from his position.

Falling back about five hundred yards, he took position again around the dwelling and buildings upon Mr. Crockett's farm, and maintained it obstinately for some time. The piece of artillery, well served by the gallant volunteers, did excellent service here.