Basil Wilson Duke

Upon his return to Southwestern Virginia, General Morgan applied himself assiduously to collect all of his men, however detached or separated from him, and correct the organization and discipline of his command. It was a far less easy task then than ever before. Not only was a conviction stealing upon the Confederate soldiery (and impairing the efficiency of the most manly and patriotic) that the fiat had gone forth against us, and that no exercise of courage and fortitude could avert the doom, but the demoralizing effects of a long war, and habitude to its scenes and passions had rendered even the best men callous and reckless, and to a certain extent intractable to influences which had formerly been all potent with them as soldiers. Imagine the situation in which the Confederate soldier was placed: Almost destitute of hope that the cause for which he fought would triumph and fighting on from instinctive obstinate pride, no longer receiving from the people—themselves hopeless and impoverished almost to famine by the draining demands of the war—the sympathy, hospitality and hearty encouragement once accorded to him; almost compelled (for comfort if not for existence) to practice oppression and wrong upon his own countrymen, is it surprising that he became wild and lawless, that he adopted a rude creed in which strict conformity to military regulations and a nice obedience to general orders held not very prominent places? This condition obtained in a far greater degree with the cavalry employed in the "outpost" departments than with the infantry or the soldiery of the large armies. It is an unhappy condition, and destructive of military efficiency and any sort of discipline, but under certain circumstances it is hard to prevent or correct. There is little temptation and no necessity or excuse for it among troops that are well fed, regularly paid in good money and provided with comfortable clothing, blankets and shoes in the cold winter; but troops whose rations are few and scanty, who flutter with rags and wear ventillating shoes which suck in the cold air, who sleep at night under a blanket which keeps the saddle from a sore-backed horse in the day time, who are paid (if paid at all) with waste paper, who have become hardened to the licentious practices of a cruel warfare—such troops will be frequently tempted to violate the moral code. Many Confederate cavalrymen so situated left their commands altogether and became guerrillas, salving their consciences with the thought that the desertion was not to the enemy. These men, leading a comparatively luxurious life and receiving, from some people, a mistaken and foolish admiration, attracted to the same career young men who (but for the example and the sympathy accorded the guerrilla and denied the faithful, brave and suffering soldier) would never had quitted their colors and their duty. Kentucky was at one time, just before the close of the war, teeming with these guerrillas. It was of no use to threaten them with punishment—they had no idea of being caught. Besides, Burbridge shot all that he could lay hands on, and (for their sins) many prisoners (guilty of no offense), selected at random, or by lot, from the pens where he kept them for the purpose, were butchered, by this insensate blood-hound. Not only did General Morgan have to contend with difficulties thus arising, but now, for the first time, he suffered from envy, secret animosity and detraction within his own command. Many faithful friends still surrounded him, many more lay in prison, but he began to meet with open enmity in his own camp. It had happened in the old times that some of his warmest and surest adherents had occasionally urged strenuous remonstrances against his wishes, but they were dictated by devotion to his interests; now officers, recently connected with him, inaugurated a jealous and systematic opposition to him in all matters, and were joined in it, with ungrateful alacrity, by some men whom he had thought his fastest friends. Reports of excesses committed by some of the troops in Kentucky had reached Richmond and created much feeling. General Morgan had instructed his Inspector General, Captain Bryant H. Allen, to investigate the accusations against the various parties suspected of guilt and to prefer charges against those who should appear to be implicated. Captain Allen was charged with negligence and lack of industry in pursuing the investigation and complaints were made that General Morgan was seeking to screen the offenders. All sorts of communications, the most informal, irregular and some of them, improper, were forwarded to Richmond by General Morgan's subordinates, often unknown to him because not passing through his office, and they were received by the Secretary of War, Mr. Seddon, without questioning and with avidity. It was at length announced that a commission would be appointed to sit at Abingdon and inquire into these charges, and also into the charge that General Morgan had undertaken the raid into Kentucky without orders.

While in daily expectation of the arrival of these commissioners, the sudden irruption of the enemy into that part of the country which was occupied by his command, caused General Morgan to proceed to the threatened points. Colonels Smith and Giltner, and a portion of General Vaughn's brigade which was stationed in East Tennessee, under Colonel Bradford, were driven back to Carter's Station, on the Wetauga river, some thirty-five miles from Abingdon. When General Morgan reached that place, and took command of the troops assembled there, the enemy were retreating. He followed as closely as possible until he had reoccupied the territory whence the Confederates had been driven. While at Granville, a small town upon the Tennessee and Virginia Railroad, seventy-two miles from Abingdon, and eighteen from Bull's Gap, where a portion of his troops was stationed, he had occasion to revoke the parole, granted a few days previously, to a wounded Federal officer, assistant adjutant general to General Gillem, who was staying at the house of a Mrs. Williams, where General Morgan had made his headquarters. The daughter-in-law of this lady, Mrs. Lucy Williams, a Union woman and bitterly opposed to the Confederate cause and troops, was detected with a letter written by this officer, accurately detailing the number, condition and position of General Morgan's forces, which letter she was to have sent to Colonel Gillem. Dr. Cameron, General Morgan's chaplain, discovered the letter in a prayer book, where it had been deposited by the lady.

This being a clear violation of his parole, General Morgan sent the officer to Lynchburg, to be placed in prison. The younger Mrs. Williams (his friend) resented this treatment very much, declaring that in his condition, it might prove fatal to him.

This incident is related because it has been thought to have had a direct influence in causing General Morgan's death. When General Morgan returned to Abingdon, he found an excitement still prevailing regarding the investigation, but the members of the commission had not yet arrived.

I met him, then, for the first time since he had made his escape, or I had been exchanged. He was greatly changed. His face wore a weary, care-worn expression, and his manner was totally destitute of its former ardor and enthusiasm. He spoke bitterly, but with no impatience, of the clamor against him, and seemed saddest about the condition of his command. He declared that if he had been successful in the last day's fight at Cynthiana, he would have been enabled to hold Kentucky for months; that every organized Federal force which could be promptly collected to attack him, could have then been disposed of, and that he had assurance of obtaining a great number of recruits. He spoke with something of his old sanguine energy, only when proclaiming his confidence that he could have achieved successes unparalleled in his entire career, if fortune had favored him in that fight. But no word of censure upon any one escaped him. It had never been his habit to charge the blame of failure upon his subordinates—his native magnanimity forbade it; and tried so sorely as he was at this time, by malignant calumny, he was too proud to utter a single reproach. A letter which he intended to forward to the Secretary of War, but the transmission of which his death prevented, shows his sense of the treatment he had received. This letter was written just after the conversation, above mentioned, occurred, while he was again confronting the enemy, and immediately before he was killed. I can not better introduce it than by first giving the letter of the officer who forwarded it to me (I had believed it lost), and who was for more than a year Adjutant General of the Department of Southwestern Virginia and East Tennessee, and served for some months on General Morgan's staff. He is well known to the ex-Confederates of Kentucky, as having been an exceedingly intelligent, competent, and gallant officer, and a gentleman of the highest honor.

"Covington, December —, ——.

"Dear General: In looking over some old papers (relics of the late war), a few days ago, I discovered one which, until then, I did not know was in my possession. It is the last letter written by General Morgan, and, in a measure, may be considered his dying declaration. I can not recollect how it came into my possession, but believe it to have been among a bundle of papers that were taken from his body after he was killed, and forwarded to Department Headquarters; the letter of Captain Gwynn, which I will also inclose you, leaves hardly a doubt upon that point.

I have noticed through the press, that you were engaged in writing a history of "Morgan's command," and under the impression that this paper will be of service to you, I herewith forward it. I am familiar with the embarrassments that surrounded the General for some time previously to his death, and in reading this last appeal to the powers that had dealt with him so unjustly, the remembrance of them still awakens in my bosom many emotions of regret. If the General acted adversely to his own interests, in endeavoring to adjust quietly the unfortunate affairs that he refers to, those who understood his motives for so doing would excuse this error of his judgment when they realized the feelings that prompted it. He saw his error when it was too late to correct it, and died before opportunity was given to vindicate his character. I remember distinctly the last conversation I had with him, only a few days before his death, and the earnest manner in which he spoke of this trouble, would have removed from my mind all doubt of the perfect rectitude of his intentions, if any had ever existed. I remember, too, my visit to Richmond during the month of August, 1864, on which occasion, at the General's request, I called upon the Secretary of War to lay before him some papers entrusted to my care, and also to make some verbal explanations regarding them. The excited, I may say the exasperated manner in which the Honorable Secretary commented upon the documents, left but one impression upon my mind, and that was, that the War Department had made up its mind that the party was guilty and that its conviction should not be offended by any evidence to the contrary. The determination to pursue and break the General down was apparent to every one, and the Kentucky expedition was to be the means to accomplish this end (the reasons for a great deal of this enmity are, of course, familiar to you). I endeavored to explain to Mr. Seddon the injustice of the charge that General Morgan had made this expedition without proper authority (I felt this particularly to be my duty as I was the only person then living who could bear witness upon that point), but being unable to obtain a quiet hearing, I left his office disappointed and disgusted.

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With the hope that you may succeed in the work you have undertaken, believe me,

Very truly, your friend,

J.L. Sandford."

"Headquarters Cav. Dep't, East Tennessee,} Jonesboro', Sept. 1, 1864. }

"Sir: I have the honor to ask your early and careful consideration of the statements herein submitted, and, although I am aware that the representations which have been made you, concerning the matters to which these statements relate, have so decided your opinion that you do not hesitate to give it free expression, I yet feel that it is due to myself to declare how false and injurious such representations have been and to protest against the injustice which condemns me unheard.

You will understand that I allude to the alleged robbery of the Bank of Mt. Sterling, Kentucky, and other outrages which my command is charged with having committed during the late expedition into that State. I will not, myself, countenance a course of procedure against which I feel that I can justly protest, by citing testimony or waging my own affirmation in disproof of the accusations which have been filed against me at your office—but I will demand a prompt and thorough investigation of them all, and will respectfully urge the propriety of yourself instituting it.

If, as has been asserted, I have obstructed all examination into the truth of these imputations, a proper regard for the interests of the service, as well as the ends of justice requires that some higher authority shall compel an exposure. Until, very recently, I was ignorant how the rumors which had already poisoned the public mind, had been received and listened to in official circles, and I can not forbear indignant complaint of the injury done my reputation and usefulness by the encouragement thus given them.

Allegations, directly implicating me in the excesses above referred to, that I had connived at, if I did not incite them, and that I have striven to shield the perpetrators from discovery and punishment—allegations, the most vague and yet all tending to impeach my character, have obtained hearing and credence at the department.

I have not been called on, indeed I may say I have not been permitted one word in my defense. Permit me to say that an officer's reputation may suffer from such causes, in official and public opinion, and that he may find it difficult, if not impossible, to vindicate it, unless his superiors assist him by inviting inquiry. I am informed that communications and documents of various kinds, relating to the alleged criminal transactions in Kentucky, have been addressed you by certain of my subordinates, and I have been profoundly ignorant of their existence, until after their receipt, and the intended impression had been produced. I have but little acquaintance with the forms and regulations of your office, and I would respectfully ask if communications so furnished are not altogether irregular and prejudicial to good order and proper discipline? If these parties believe my conduct culpable, is it not their plain duty to prefer charges against me and bring me before a court martial? And if failing to adopt measures suggested alike by law, justice and propriety, they pursue a course which tends to weaken my authority, impair my reputation and embarrass my conduct, have I not the right to expect that their action shall be condemned and themselves reprimanded? Indeed, sir, discipline and subordination have been impaired to such an extent in my command by proceedings, such as I have described, that an officer of high rank quitted a responsible post, without leave and in direct disobedience to my orders, and repaired to Richmond to urge in person his application for assignment to duty more consonant with his inclinations. It is, with all due respect, that I express my regret that his application was successful.

Permit me again, sir, to urge earnestly, that the investigation, which can alone remove the difficulties which I now experience, shall be immediately ordered.

I have the honor to be, very respectfully,
Your obedient servant,
John H. Morgan.

To Hon. James A. Seddon, Secretary of War.

On the 28th or 29th of August, General Morgan left Abingdon, and taking command of the troops at Jonesboro' on the 31st, immediately prepared to move against the enemy. Our forces had again been driven away from their positions at Bull's Gap and Rogersville, and had fallen back to Jonesboro'. After two or three days delay for refitment, etc., General Morgan marched from Jonesboro' with the intention of attacking the enemy at Bull's Gap. If he could drive them from that position, by a sudden and rapidly executed movement, he would, in all probability, cut off that force at Rogersville and either force it to surrender or compel it to retreat into Kentucky. In the latter event, the enemy's strength would be so much reduced, that all of East Tennessee, as far down as Knoxville, would be for some time, in possession of the Confederates. General Morgan's strength, including the portions of General Vaughan's brigade, was about sixteen hundred and two pieces of artillery. The men were badly armed and equipped and had been much discouraged by their late reverses, but reanimated by the presence of their leader, whom they loved all the more as misfortunes befell them, they were anxious for battle.

A small frame house upon the left side of the road leading from Jonesboro' to Greenville, was often pointed out to me subsequently, as the spot where General Morgan received (as he rode past the column), the last cheer ever given him by his men. Reaching Greenville about 4 p.m. on the 3rd of September, he determined to encamp there for the night and move on Bull's Gap the next day. The troops were stationed on all sides of the place, and he made his headquarters in town, at the house of Mrs. Williams. The younger Mrs. Williams left Greenville, riding in the direction of Bull's Gap at the first rumors of the approach of our forces, to give, we have always believed, the alarm to the enemy.

The Tennesseeans of Vaughan's brigade (under Colonel Bradford), were encamped on the Bull's Gap road, and were instructed to picket that road and the roads to the left. Clark's battalion of Colonel Smith's brigade and the artillery were encamped on the Jonesboro' road, about five hundred yards from the town. The remainder of Colonel Smith's brigade was encamped on the Rogersville road. Colonel Giltner's command was also stationed in this quarter, and the two picketed all the roads to the front and right flank. The town, had all instructions been obeyed and the pickets judiciously placed, would have been perfectly protected. It has been stated, I know not how correctly, that the enemy gained admittance to the town, unchallenged, through an unaccountable error in the picketing of the roads on the left. According to this account, the enemy, who left Bull's Gap before midnight, quitted the main road at Blue Springs, equi-distant from Greenville and Bull's Gap, and marched by the Warrensburg road, until within one mile and a half of the town.

At this point, a by-road leads from the Warrensburg to the Newport road. The pickets on the Warrensburg road were not stationed in sight of this point, while on the Newport road the base of the pickets was beyond the point where the by-road enters, and there were no rear videttes between the base and town. The enemy (it is stated), took this little by-road, and turning off in front of one picket, came in behind the other. At any rate, about daylight, a body perhaps of one hundred cavalry dashed into Greenville and were followed in a short time by Gillem's whole force. It was the party that came first which killed General Morgan. His fate, however, is still involved in mystery. Major Gassett, of his staff, states that they left the house together and sought to escape, but found every street guarded. They took refuge once in the open cellar of a house, expecting that some change in the disposition of the Federal forces would leave an avenue for escape, or that they would be rescued by a charge from some of the troops at the camps. They were discovered and pointed out by a Union woman. Gassett succeeded in effecting his escape. General Morgan made his way back to the garden of Mrs. Williams house. Lieutenant X. Hawkins, a fearless young officer, charged into the town with fifteen men and strove to reach the point where he supposed the General to be, but he was forced back. General Morgan was killed in the garden—shot through the heart. It is not known whether he surrendered or was offering resistance.

His friends have always believed that he was murdered after his surrender. Certain representations by the parties who killed him, their ruffianly character, and the brutality with which they treated his body, induced the belief; and it was notorious that his death, if again captured, had been sworn. His slayers broke down the paling around the garden, dragged him through, and, while he was tossing his arms in his dying agonies, threw him across a mule, and paraded his body about the town, shouting and screaming in savage exultation. No effort was made by any one except Lieutenant Hawkins to accomplish his rescue. The three commands demoralized by General Morgan's death, became separated and were easily driven away. The men of his old command declared their desire to fight and avenge him on the spot, but a retreat was insisted upon.

Thus, on the 4th of September, 1864, in this little village of East Tennessee, fell the greatest partisan leader the world ever saw, unless it were the Irishman, Sarsfield. But not only was the light of genius extinguished then, and a heroic spirit lost to earth—as kindly and as noble a heart as was ever warmed by the constant presence of generous emotions was stilled by a ruffian's bullet.

As the event is described, the feelings it excited come back almost as fresh and poignant as at the time. How hard it was to realize that his time, too, had come—that so much life had been quenched. Every trait of the man we almost worshiped, recollections of incidents which showed his superb nature, crowd now, as they crowded then, upon the mind.

When he died, the glory and chivalry seemed gone from the struggle, and it became a tedious routine, enjoined by duty, and sustained only by sentiments of pride and hatred. Surely men never grieved for a leader as Morgan's men sorrowed for him. The tears which scalded the cheeks of hardy and rugged veterans, who had witnessed all the terrible scenes of four years of war, attested it, and the sad faces told of the aching hearts within.

His body was taken from the hands which defiled it, by General Gillem, as soon as that officer arrived at Greenville, and sent to our lines, under flag of truce. It was buried first at Abingdon, then removed to the cemetery at Richmond, where it lies now, surrounded by kindred heroic ashes, awaiting the time when it can be brought to his own beloved Kentucky—the hour when there is no longer fear that the storm, which living rebels are sworn to repress, shall burst out with the presence of the dead chieftain.

The troops again returned to Jonesboro', the enemy returning after a short pursuit to Bull's Gap. Immediately upon learning of General Morgan's death, General Echols, then commanding the department, ordered me to take command of the brigade composed of his old soldiers—the remnant of the old division. I found this brigade reduced to two hundred and seventy-three effective men, and armed in a manner that made it a matter of wonder how they could fight at all. There were scarcely fifty serviceable guns in the brigade, and the variety of calibers rendered it almost a matter of impossibility to keep on hand a supply of available ammunition. They were equipped similarly in all other respects. Every effort was at once instituted to collect and procure guns, and to provide suitable equipments. General Echols kindly rendered all the assistance in his power, and manifested a special interest in us, for which we were deeply grateful. Our friends at Richmond and throughout the Confederacy, seemed to experience fresh sympathy for us after General Morgan's death.

In this connection it is fitting to speak of a gentleman to whom we were especially indebted, Mr. E.M. Bruce, one of the Kentucky members of the Confederate Congress. It would, indeed, be unjust as well as ungrateful, to omit mention of his name and his generous, consistent friendship. Not only were we, of Morgan's old command, the recipients of constant and the kindest services from him, but his generosity was as wide as his charity, which seemed boundless. His position at Richmond was such as to enable him to be of great assistance to the soldiers and people from his state, and he was assiduous and untiring in their behalf. The immense wealth which his skill and nerve in commercial speculations procured him, was lavished in friendly ministrations and charitable enterprises. An intelligent and useful member of the Congress, a safe and valuable adviser of the administration in all matters within the province of his advice, he was especially known and esteemed as the friend of the soldiery, the patron of all who stood in need of aid and indulgence. At one time he maintained not only a hospital in Richmond for the sick and indigent, but a sort of hotel, kept up at his own expense, where the Kentucky soldiers returning from prison were accommodated. It is safe to say that he did more toward furnishing the Kentucky troops with clothing, etc., than all of the supply department put together. The sums he gave away in Confederate money would sound fabulous; and, after the last surrender, he gave thousands of dollars in gold to the Kentucky troops, who lacked means to take them home. His name will ever be held by them in grateful and affectionate remembrance.

My command remained encamped near Jonesboro' for nearly two weeks. The commands of Vaughan, Cosby (that formerly commanded by General George B. Hodge) and Giltner were also stationed in the same vicinity, all under command of General John C. Vaughan.

Upon the 15th of September, I received my commission as Brigadier General and accepted it—as it has turned out—an unpardonable error. During the time that we remained near Jonesboro', the brigade improved very much. Fortunately several of the best officers of the old command, who had escaped capture, were with it at the time that I took command, Captains Cantrill, Lea and Messick, and Lieutenants Welsh, Cunningham, Hunt, Hawkins, Hopkins, Skillman, Roody, Piper, Moore, Lucas, Skinner, Crump and several others equally as gallant and good, and there were some excellent officers who had joined the command just after General Morgan's return from prison. The staff department was ably filled by the acting adjutants, Lieutenants George W. Hunt, Arthur Andrews, James Hines and Daniels. These were all officers of especial merit.

Colonels Ward, Morgan and Tucker, and Majors Webber and Steele had been exchanged at Charleston, and their valuable services were secured at a time when greatly needed. The gallant Mississippi company, of my old regiment, was there, all, at least, that was left of it, and Cooper's company, under Welsh, as staunch and resolute as ever, although greatly reduced in numbers. All the old regiments were represented.

Daily drills and inspections soon brought the brigade into a high state of efficiency and the men longed to return to the debatable ground and try conclusions, fairly, with the enemy which had boasted of recent triumphs at their expense. An opportunity soon occurred. In the latter part of September, General Vaughan moved with all of these commands stationed about Jonesboro', in the direction of Greenville. One object of the movement was to attempt, if co-operation with General John S. Williams, who was known to be approaching from toward Knoxville, could be secured, the capture of the Federal forces at Bull's gap. General Williams had been cut off, in Middle Tennessee, from General Wheeler who had raided into that country. His command consisted of three brigades. One under command of Colonel William Breckinridge was the brigade of Kentucky cavalry which had won so much reputation in the retreat from Dalton and the operations around Atlanta. In this brigade were Colonel Breckinridge's own regiment, the Ninth Kentucky and Dortch's battalion. Another of these brigades was a very fine one of Tennessee troops, under General Debrell, an excellent officer. The third commanded by General Robertson, a young and very dashing officer, was composed of "Confederate" battalions—troops enlisted under no particular State organization. General Vaughan learning of General Williams' approach dispatched him a courier offering to co-operate with him and advising that General Williams should attack the rear, while he, Vaughan would attack it in front.

Passing through Greenville at early dawn upon the second day after we left Jonesboro', the column marched rapidly toward the gap. My brigade was marching in advance. It was at this time three hundred and twenty-two strong and was organized into two battalions, the first commanded by Colonel Ward and the second by Colonel Morgan. About four miles from Greenville, Captain Messick, whose Company A, of the second battalion, was acting as advance-guard, encountered a scouting party of the enemy fifty or sixty strong. Messick immediately attacked, routed the party and chased it for several miles, taking eight or ten prisoners. Pressing on again in advance, when the column had overtaken him, he discovered the enemy in stronger force than before, advantageously posted upon the further side of a little stream about two miles from Lick creek. Halting his command here, Captain Messick, accompanied by Lieutenant Hopkins, galloped across the bridge and toward the enemy to reconnoiter. Approaching, despite the shots fired at them, to within forty or fifty yards of the enemy, they were then saluted by a volley from nearly two hundred rifles. Thinking it impossible, or impolitic, to procure "further information" they rapidly galloped back. Upon the approach of the column this party of the enemy fell back to Lick creek, where it met or was reinforced by some two or three hundred more. Lick creek is some three miles from Bull's gap. There were no fords in the vicinity of the road and it was too deep for wading except at one or two points. A narrow bridge spanned it at the point where it crossed the road. On the side that we were approaching there is a wide open space like a prairie, perhaps half a mile square. Thick woods border this opening in the direction that we were coming and wooded hills upon the left—running down to the edge of the creek.

Perceiving the enemy show signs of a disposition to contest our crossing, my brigade was at once deployed to force a passage. A portion of the second battalion was double-quicked, dismounted, across the open to the thickets near the bank of the creek. Although exposed for the entire distance to the fire of the enemy, this detachment suffered no loss. One company of the second battalion was also sent to the right, and took position near the creek in that quarter. The greater part of the first battalion was sent, on foot, to the left, and, concealed by the thickets upon the hills, got near enough the creek without attracting the attention of the enemy. Lieutenant Conrad was ordered to charge across the bridge with two mounted companies. As he approached it at a trot, a battalion of the enemy galloped down on the other side (close to the bridge) to dispute his passage. The dismounted skirmishers, who had taken position near the creek, prevented Conrad's column from receiving annoyance from the remainder of the Federal force.

When within so short a distance of the bridge that the features of the Federal soldiers at the other extremity were plainly discernible, Conrad suddenly halted, threw one company into line, keeping the other in column behind it, and opened fire upon it, which was returned with interest. Just then Lieutenant Welsh carried his company across the creek on the extreme left, followed by Lea (the water coming up to the men's shoulders) and attacked the enemy in flank and rear. This shook their line. General Vaughan, at the same time, brought up a piece of artillery and opened fire over the heads of our own men. Conrad seized the moment of confusion and darted across the bridge with the company which was in column, the other following. It was then a helter-skelter chase until the enemy took refuge in the gap.

General Vaughn marched on, but hearing nothing of General Williams, and knowing the strength of the position, did not attack. He had a brass band with him, which he made play "Dixie," in the hope that it would lure the enemy out; but this strategical banter was treated with profound indifference. General Williams had marched on the north side of the Holston river to Rogersville, and thence to Greenville, where we met him upon our return next day. His command was about two thousand strong, but a part of it badly armed, and his ammunition was exhausted. It turned out that his advent in our department was most opportune and fortunate.

We remained at Greenville several days, and then marched to Carter's Station. This withdrawal was occasioned by the unformation of the approach of Burbridge, from Kentucky, with a heavy force. His destination was supposed to be the Salt-works, and General Echols judged it expedient to effect a timely concentration of all the forces in the department. The system of procuring information from Kentucky, the most dangerous quarter to the Department, was so well organized that it was nearly two weeks after the first intimation of danger before Burbridge entered Virginia. Giltner's brigade had been moved very early to Laurel Gap, or some position in that vicinity, between the Salt-works and the approaching enemy. Leaving General Vaughan with his own brigade at Carter's Station, General Echols ordered General Cosby and myself to Bristol. General Williams, who, with great exertion, had rearmed his command, moved a few days subsequently to the Salt-works, where the "reserves" of militia were now, also, collecting. Simultaneously with Burbridge's advance, the enemy approached from Knoxville (under Generals Gillem and Ammon), marching over the same ground which we had traversed shortly before.

General Vaughan was attacked, and was compelled to divide his brigade, the greater part remaining at Carter's Station, and a part being sent, under Colonel Carter, to Duvault's ford, five miles below on the Wetauga, where the enemy sought to effect a passage. Upon the night after the first demonstration against General Vaughan, General Cosby and I were sent to reinforce him, and, marching all night, reached the position assigned early the next morning. General Cosby was posted where he could support most speedily whichever point needed it, and I was instructed to proceed directly to Duvault's ford. Upon arriving there, I found Colonel Carter making all the preparations within his power to repel the attack which he anticipated. About nine a.m., the enemy recommenced the fight at Carter's Station, and toward one or two p.m. made his appearance again upon the other side of the river, opposite our position. The firing by this time had become so heavy at Carter's Station that I feared that General Vaughan would not be able to prevent the enemy from crossing the river there, and became anxious to create a diversion in his favor. I thought that if the force confronting us could be driven off and made to retreat on Jonesboro', that confronting General Vaughan would also fall back, fearing a flank attack, or it would, at least, slacken its efforts. The steep and difficult bank just in our front forbade all thought of attack in that way, but there was a ford about a mile and a half below, from which a good road led through level ground to the rear of the enemy's position. I instructed Captain Messick to take fifty picked men, cross at this ford, and take the enemy in the rear, and requested Colonel Carter to cause one of his battalions to dash down to the brink of the river, as soon as the firing commenced, and cross and attack if the enemy showed signs of being shaken by Messick's movement.

Captain Messick had crossed the river and gotten two or three hundred yards upon the other side, when he met a battalion of Federal cavalry approaching, doubtless to try a flank movement on us. They were marching with drawn sabers, but foolishly halted at sight of our men. Messick immediately ordered the charge and dashed into them. The impetus with which his column drove against them made the Federals recoil, and in a little while entirely give way. Stephen Sharp, of Cluke's regiment, rode at the color-guard, and shooting the color-bearer through the head, seized the flag. While he was waving it in triumph, the guard fired upon him, two bullets taking effect, one in the left arm, the other through the lungs. Dropping the colors across his saddle, he clubbed his rifle and struck two of his assailants from their horses, and Captain Messick killed a third for him. Twelve prisoners were taken, and ten or fifteen of the enemy killed and wounded. Messick, pressing the rout, whirled around upon the rear of the position. Colonel Carter ordered the Sixteenth Georgia to charge the position in front, when he saw the confusion produced by this dash, and the whole force went off in rapid retreat, pursued by the detachment of Captain Messick and the Georgia battalion for four or five miles.

Shortly afterward the demonstration against Carter's Station ceased. Lieutenant Roody, a brave and excellent young officer, lost a leg in this charge. Stephen Sharp, whose name has just now been mentioned, was perhaps the hero of more personal adventures than any man in Morgan's command. He had once before captured a standard by an act of equal courage. He had made his escape from prison by an exercise of almost incredible daring. With a companion, named Hecker, he deliberately scaled the wall of the prison yard, and forced his way through a guard assembled to oppose them. Sharp was shot and bayoneted in this attempt, but his wounds were not serious, and both he and his companion got away. When, subsequently, they were making their way to Virginia through the mountains of Kentucky, they were attacked by six or seven bushwhackers. Hecker was shot from his horse. Sharp shot four of his assailants and escaped. His exploits are too numerous for mention. Although the wounds he received at Duvault's were serious, he survived them, to marry the lady who nursed him.

On the next day, we received orders from General Echols to march at once to Saltville, as Burbridge was drawing near the place. In a very short time the energy and administrative skill of General Echols had placed the department in an excellent condition for defense. But it was the opportune arrival of General Williams which enabled us to beat back all assailants. When we reached Abingdon, we learned that General Breckinridge had arrived and had assumed command. After a short halt, we pressed on and reached Saltville at nightfall to learn that the enemy had been repulsed that day in a desperate attack. His loss had been heavy.

General Williams had made a splendid fight—one worthy of his very high reputation for skill and resolute courage. His dispositions were admirable. It is also positively stated that, as he stood on a superior eminence midway of his line of battle, his voice could be distinctly heard above the din of battle, as he shouted orders to all parts of the line at once. The Virginia reserves, under General Jackson and Colonel Robert Preston, behaved with distinguished gallantry. Upon the arrival of our three fresh brigades it was determined to assume the offensive in the morning. But that night the enemy retreated. General Cosby and I were ordered to follow him. We overtook his column beyond Hyter's Gap, but owing to mistakes in reconnoisance, etc., allowed it to escape us. General Williams coming up with a part of his command, we pressed the rear but did little damage. After this, my brigade was stationed for a few days at Wytheville.

In the middle of October, I was directed to go with two hundred men to Floyd and Franklin counties, where the deserters from our various armies in Virginia had congregated and had become very troublesome. In Floyd county they had organized what they called the "New State" and had elected a provisional Governor and Lieutenant Governor. I caught the latter—he was a very nice gentleman, and presented the man who captured him with a horse. After a little discipline the gang broke up, and some two hundred came in and surrendered.

Captain Cantrill, of my brigade, was sent with some forty men to Grayson county, about the same time. In this county the deserters and bushwhackers had been committing terrible outrages. Upon Cantrill's approach they retreated just across the line into North Carolina, into the mountains and bantered him to follow. He immediately did so. His force was increased by the reinforcement of a company of militia to about eighty men. He came upon the deserters (mustering about one hundred and twenty-five strong), posted upon the side of a mountain, and attacked them. Turning his horses loose, after finding that it was difficult to ascend mounted—he pushed his men forward on foot. The horses galloping back, induced the enemy to believe that he was retreating. They were quickly undeceived. Letting them come close to a belt of brush in which his men were resting, Captain Cantrill poured in a very destructive fire. The leader of the gang was killed by the first volley and his men soon dispersed and fled.

Twenty-one men were killed in this affair, and the others were phased away from the country. They gave no further trouble. Captain Cantrill's action justified the high esteem in which his courage and ability were held by his superiors. Almost immediately after the return of these detachments, the brigade was ordered back to East Tennessee again.

General Vaughan, supported by Colonel Palmer's brigade of North Carolina reserves, had been attacked at Russellville, six miles below Bull's Gap, and defeated with the loss of four or five pieces of artillery. General Breckinridge, immediately upon hearing of this disaster, prepared to retrieve it. The appointment of General Breckinridge to the command of the department, was a measure admirably calculated to reform and infuse fresh vitality into its affairs. He possessed the confidence of both the people and the soldiery. His military record was a brilliant one, and his sagacity and firmness were recognized by all. With the Kentucky troops, who were extravagantly proud of him, his popularity was of course unbounded. Although this unfortunate department was worse handled by the enemy after he commanded it than ever before, he came out of the ordeal, fatal to most other generals, with enhanced reputation. His great energy and indomitable resolution were fairly tried and fully proven. He could personally endure immense exertions and exposure. If, however, when heavy duty and labor were demanded, he got hold of officers and men who would not complain, he worked them without compunction, giving them no rest, and leaving the reluctant in clover. He could always elicit the affection inspired by manly daring and high soldierly qualities, and which the brave always feel for the bravest.

Leaving Wytheville on the night of the 19th of October, the brigade marched nearly to Marion, twenty-one miles distant. A blinding snow was driving in our faces, and about midnight it became necessary to halt and allow the half frozen men to build fires. Marching on through Abingdon and Bristol, we reached Carter's station on the 22nd. Here General Vaughn's brigade was encamped, and on the same day trains arrived from Wytheville bringing dismounted men of my brigade and of Cosby's and Giltner's. The bulk of these two latter brigades were in the Shenandoah valley, with General Early. There were also two companies of engineers. The dismounted men numbered in all between three and four hundred. They were commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Alston, who was assisted by Major Chenoweth, Captain Jenkins and other able officers. Six pieces of artillery also arrived, commanded by Major Page. On the 23rd, the entire force was marched to Jonesboro'. From Jonesboro' two roads run to Greenville, or rather to within three miles of Greenville, when they join. These roads are at no point more than three miles apart. My brigade was ordered to march upon the right hand, or Rheatown, road and General Vaughan took the other. The dismounted men marched along the railroad, which runs between them. A short distance beyond Rheatown, Captain Messick, who was some ten miles in front of the column with the advance-guard of twenty men, came upon an encampment of the enemy. He immediately attacked and drove in the pickets. Privates Hi Rogers, Pat Gilroy, Porter White, and another brave fellow of Ward's battalion, followed them into the encampment and came back unhurt. Messick halted his guard about four hundred yards from the encampment and awaited the movements of the enemy. His men were all picked for their daring and steadiness and could be depended on. In a little while the enemy came out, but continued, for a while, to fire at long range. Fearing that arrangements were being made to surround him, Messick began to retreat. The enemy then pursued him, and a battalion continued the pursuit for ten miles. Although closely pressed, this gallant little squad repeatedly turned and fought, sometimes dismounting to fire more accurately, and repeatedly checked their pursuers. Every round of their ammunition was exhausted and they were at no time disordered or forced into flight. Captain Messick lost not a single man captured and only one wounded.

When the column at length came up, the enemy had abandoned the chase and returned. That evening we marched through their deserted camp. Passing through Greenville the next morning, which the enemy had evacuated the night before, we reached Lick creek about 4 p.m. The enemy showed themselves on the further side, but did not contest our passage. A mile or a mile and a half in front of the gap we came upon them again, about twelve hundred strong. General Breckinridge ordered me to attack. I did so and in a short time drove them into the gap. They came out twice and were as often driven back. General Vaughan had been sent to demonstrate in the rear of the gap, and the dismounted men had not gotten up. After the third trial outside of the works, the enemy contented himself with shelling us. I witnessed, then, a singular incident. One man was literally set on fire by a shell. I saw what seemed a ball of fire fall from a shell just exploded and alight upon this poor fellow. He was at once in flames. We tore his clothing from him and he was scorched and seared from head to foot.

All that night we stood in line upon the ground we occupied when it fell. The enemy's pickets were a short distance in our front and fired at every movement. During the night the artillery arrived and was posted upon a commanding position protected by my line. The dismounted men also arrived during the night.

On the next morning, at day light, the dismounted men and one hundred and fifty of my brigade, in all some five hundred men, were moved to the extreme right to assault the gap from that quarter. General Vaughan was instructed to attack it in the rear, and Colonel George Crittenden was posted to support the artillery, with one hundred and eighty men, and to demonstrate in front. The right was the real point of attack. General Breckinridge hoped to carry the works there, and the other movements were intended as diversions. The enemy's force, as shown by captured field returns, was about twenty-five hundred men.

Climbing up the steep mountain side, the party sent to the right gained the ridge a little after daybreak. The position to be assaulted was exceedingly strong. Two spurs of the hill (on which the fortifications were erected) run out and connect with the mountain upon which we were formed. Between them is an immense ravine, wide and deep. The summits of these spurs are not more than forty yards wide, and their sides are rugged and steep. Across each, and right in the path of our advance, earthworks were erected, not very formidable themselves, but commanded by the forts. A direct and cross fire of artillery swept every inch of the approach. About the time that we reached the top of the mountain, Major Page opened with his pieces upon the plain beneath, and we immediately commenced the attack. Colonel Ward crossed the ravine with the greater part of our column, and I moved upon the left-hand spur with eighty or a hundred men of my brigade. A good many men of the hastily organized companies, of the dismounted command, hung back in the ravine as Colonel Ward advanced, and did no service in the fight.

General Breckinridge personally commanded the assault. Colonel Ward pressed on vigorously, and despite the hot fire which met him, carried the line of works upon the right, but was driven out by the fire from the fort, which he could not take. He returned repeatedly to the assault, and could not be driven far from the works. Upon the left we advanced rapidly, driving in the enemy's skirmishers, until, when within thirty yards of the earthwork, the men were staggered by the fire, halted, and could not be made to advance. Both ridges were completely swept by the enfilading fire, which each now poured upon us. The enemy once sprang over the work upon the left and advanced upon us, but was forced back. The men were much galled by the fire at this point.

Major Webber had but one company of his battalion present. It was twenty-eight strong, and lost fourteen. After failing to carry the works, we remained close to them, upon both the ridges, for more than an hour, replying as effectively as we could to the enemy's fire. Several instances of great gallantry occurred. Sergeant James Cardwell, of my old regiment, finding that the men could not be brought up again to the attack, walked deliberately toward the enemy, declaring that he would show them what a soldier's duty was. He fell before he had taken a dozen steps, his gallant breast riddled with balls. Gordon Vorhees, a brave young soldier, scarcely out of his boyhood, was mortally wounded when Colonel Ward carried the works upon the right. His comrades strove to remove him, but he refused to permit them to do so, saying that it was their part to fight and not to look after dying men.

Colonel Crittenden had pressed his slight line and Page's guns close to the front of the gap, during our attack, and did splendid service. But the attack in the rear was not made in time, and almost the entire Federal force was concentrated on the right, and this, and the strength of the position, was some excuse for our failure to take it. General Breckinridge exposed himself in a manner that called forth the almost indignant remonstrance of the men, and it is a matter of wonder that he escaped unhurt. He spoke in high terms of the conduct of the men who pressed the attack, although much disappointed at its failure, and especially commended Colonel Ward's cool, unflinching, and determined bravery. The latter officer was wounded, and when we withdrew was cut off from the command, but found his way back safely. Our loss was heavy.

After our retreat, which was not pressed by the enemy, Col. Crittenden was in a critical situation. It was necessary that he should also withdraw, and as he did so, he was exposed for more than half a mile to the Federal artillery. Six guns were opened upon him. The chief aim seemed to be to blow up Page's caissons, but, although the shelling was hot, they were all brought off safely.

That afternoon Colonel Palmer arrived from Ashville, North Carolina, with four or five hundred infantry. General Breckinridge decided to make no further attack upon the position, but to march through Taylor's Gap, three miles to the west, and get in the rear of the Federals and upon their line of retreat and communication with Knoxville. Accordingly, we broke camp and marched about ten o'clock that night. Vaughan, who had returned, moved in advance. Palmer's infantry, the dismounted men, and the artillery, were in the rear.

As we passed through Taylor's Gap, information was received that the enemy were evacuating Bull's Gap, and that an opportunity would be afforded us to take him in flank. General Breckinridge at once ordered Vaughan to post a strong detachment at Russellville, in their front, and to attack with his whole command immediately upon the detachments becoming engaged. I was ordered to turn to the left before reaching Russellville, go around the place and cut the enemy off upon the main road, a mile or two below, or, failing to do this, take him in flank.

The enemy broke through the detachment stationed in his front, but was immediately attacked by Vaughan. "Fight, d—n you!" yelled a Federal officer to his men, as the firing commenced; "it's only a scout." "No, I'll be d—d if it is," shouted one of Vaughan's men; "we're all here." The greater part of Gillem's column and his artillery escaped here, but one regiment was cut off and driven away to the right. Moving very rapidly, my brigade managed to strike the main body again at Cheek's Cross Roads, about two miles from the town, and drove another slice from the road and into the fields and woods. While the column was scattered and prolonged by the rapid chase, we came suddenly upon the enemy halted in the edge of a wood, and were received with a smart fire, which checked us. Captain Gus Magee, one of the best and most dashing officers of the brigade, commanding the advance guard, charged in among them. As, followed by a few men, he leaped the fence behind which the enemy were posted, he was shot from his horse. He surrendered, and gave his name, and was immediately shot and sabered. He lived a short time in great agony. One of his men, Sergeant Sam Curd, avenged his death that night. Curd saved himself when Magee was killed, by slipping into the Federal line, and in the darkness, he escaped unnoticed. Some twenty minutes afterward, the murderer of Magee was captured, and Curd, recognizing his voice, asked him if he were not the man. He at once sprang upon Curd, and tried to disarm him. The latter broke loose from his grasp and killed him. Vaughan, after we moved on, kept the road, and I moved upon the left flank, endeavoring to gain the enemy's rear, and intercept his retreat. Colonel Napier, who kept in the advance with a small detachment, succeeded in this object.

Three or four miles from Morristown, the enemy halted, and, for half an hour, offered resistance. We, who were moving to take them in flank and rear, then saw a beautiful sight. The night was cloudless, and the moon at its full and shedding a brilliant light. The dark lines of troops could be seen almost as clearly as by day. Their positions were distinctly marked, however, by the flashes from the rifles, coming thick and fast, making them look, as they moved along, bending and oscillating, like rolling waves of flame, throwing off fiery spray. When my brigade had moved far around upon the left, and had taken position, obliquing toward the enemy's rear, it suddenly opened. The Federal line recoiled, and closed from both flanks toward the road, in one dense mass, which looked before the fighting ceased and the rout fairly commenced, like a huge Catherine wheel spouting streams of fire.

The enemy retreated rapidly and in confusion from this position, pursued closely by Vaughan's foremost battalions. At Morristown a regiment, just arrived upon the cars, and a piece of artillery, checked the pursuit for a short time, and enabled the enemy to reform. They were again driven, and making another and a last stand a short distance beyond the town, abandoned all further resistance when that failed to stop us.

Then the spoils began to be gathered, and were strewn so thickly along the road that the pursuit was effectually retarded. Major Day, of Vaughan's brigade, followed, however, beyond New Market, more than twenty-five miles from the point where the affair commenced, and the rest of us halted when day had fairly broken. More than one hundred ambulances and wagons were captured, loaded with baggage; six pieces of artillery, with caissons and horses, and many prisoners. The rout and disintegration of Gillem's command was complete.

On the next day we moved to New Market, and, when all the troops had gotten up, proceeded to Strawberry Plains, seven miles beyond. Here the enemy, posted in strong fortifications, were prepared to contest our further advance. We remained here three or four days.

Shelling and sharpshooting was kept up during the day, and a picket line, which required our entire strength, was maintained at night. The Holston river, deep and swollen, was between us, the enemy held the bridge and neither of the combatants ventured an attack. Vaughan was sent across the river at an upper ford and had another brush with Gillem, who came out from Knoxville with a few of his men whom he had collected and reorganized. He was easily driven back. General Breckinridge was called away to Wytheville by rumors of an advance of the enemy in another quarter, and we fell back to New Market and shortly afterward to Mossy creek, eleven miles from Strawberry plains.

Some ten days after our withdrawal from the latter place, reports reached us that a large force was being collected at Beau's Station, upon the north side of the Holston. These reports were shortly confirmed. We withdrew to Russellville, and subsequently to Greenville. To have remained further down would have exposed the rest of the department entirely. Having the short route to Bristol, the enemy could have outflanked and outmarched us, and getting first to the important points of the department, which they would have found unguarded, they could have captured and destroyed all that was worth protecting, without opposition. General Vaughan took position at Greenville, and my brigade was stationed, under command of Colonel Morgan, at Rogersville.

Five or six days after these dispositions were made, the enemy advanced upon Rogersville in heavy force, drove Colonel Morgan away and followed him closely. He retreated without loss, although constantly skirmishing to Kingsport, twenty-five miles from Rogersville, and crossing Clinch river at nightfall, prepared to dispute the passage of the enemy. He believed that he could do so successfully, but his force was too small to guard all of the fords, and the next morning the enemy got across, attacked and defeated him, capturing him, more than eighty men, and all of our wagons. Colonel Napier took command and retreated to Bristol. I met the brigade there, and found it reduced to less than three hundred men.

General Vaughan was hurrying on to Bristol, at this time, but had to march further than the enemy, who also had the start of him, would be required to march in order to reach it. On the night of the 13th, the enemy entered Bristol at 3 or 4 p.m. Vaughan was not closer than twelve or fifteen miles, and so he was completely separated from the forces east of Bristol. We now had tolerably accurate information of the enemy's strength. Burbridge's Kentucky troops composed the greater part of his force, and Gillem was present with all of his former command, whom he had succeeded in catching, and one fine regiment, the Tenth Michigan. General Stoneman commanded. His column numbered in all, as well as we could judge, between six and seven thousand men.

After the enemy occupied Bristol, I fell back to Abingdon. At Bristol a large amount of valuable stores were captured by the enemy, and more clerks and attaches of supply departments caught or scared into premature evacuation of "bummers'" berths than at any precedent period of the departmental history. They scudded from town with an expedition that was truly astonishing to those who had ever had business with them.

Not caring to make a fight, which I knew I must lose, and well aware that there was hard work before us, I left Abingdon at nightfall, and encamped about three miles from the town on the Saltville road. At 10 o'clock the enemy entered Abingdon, driving out a picket of thirty men I had left there and causing another stampede of the clerical detail. The brigade was at once gotten under arms in expectation of an advance upon the road where we were stationed, but the enemy moved down the railroad toward Glade Springs and by the main road in the same direction. After having ascertained their route, we moved rapidly to Saltville, reaching that place before 10 a.m. General Breckinridge had already concentrated there all of the reserves that could be collected, and Giltner's and Cosby's brigades, which had just returned from the valley. Vaughan had retreated, when he found himself cut off, toward the North Carolina line and was virtually out of the fight from that time. Our force for the defense of Saltville was not more than fifteen hundred men, for offensive operations not eight hundred.

The enemy made no demonstration against Saltville on that day, and at nightfall General Breckinridge instructed me to move with one hundred and fifty men of my brigade, through McCall's Gap, and passing to the right of Glade's Springs, where the enemy was supposed to be, enter the main stage road and move toward Wytheville. He had received information that three or four hundred of the enemy had gone in that direction and he wished me to follow and attack.

Moving as directed, I found the enemy, not at Glade Springs, as was expected, but at the point at which I wished to enter the main road. Driving in the pickets, I advanced my whole force to within a short distance of the road, and discovered convincing proof that the entire Federal force was there. I did not attack, but withdrew to a point about a mile distant, and, permitting the men to build fires, and posting pickets to watch the enemy at the cross-roads, awaited daylight. My guide had run away when the pickets fired on us, and I could only watch the movements of the enemy and let mine be dictated by circumstances.

Just at daylight, a force of ten or twelve hundred of the enemy appeared in our rear, and between us and Saltville. This force had passed through Glade Springs and far around to the rear. Fortunately the men were lying down in line and by their horses, which had not been unsaddled. They were at once formed, and sending to call in the pickets, I moved my line slowly toward the enemy, who halted. The noise of the pickets galloping up the road perhaps convinced them that reinforcements were arriving to us. Not caring to fight when directly between two superior bodies of the enemy, and but a short distance from either, I wheeled into column, as soon as the picket detail arrived, and moved toward a wood upon our right. I was satisfied that I could check pursuit when there, and that some sort of trace led thence over the mountain to Saltville.

The enemy did not pursue vigorously, and soon halted. Only one shot was fired, and that by one of my pickets, who killed his man. No one in my detachment knew the country, but a citizen guided us over an almost impracticable route to the road which enters Saltville by Lyon's gap.

Learning that the enemy had crossed at Seven Mile ford and gone on toward Wytheville, General Breckinridge determined to follow. He wished to harass him, and prevent, as well as he could with the limited force at his command, the waste and destruction, which was the object of the raid. He accordingly marched out from Saltville on the night of the 16th, with eight hundred men, leaving the reserves and the men belonging to the cavalry whose horses were unserviceable. The enemy captured Wytheville without firing a shot, as there was no one there to fire at, but defeated a detachment of Vaughan's command not far from the town, taking and destroying the artillery which was attached to that brigade. A detachment also took and did serious damage to the lead mines.

On the 17th, Colonel Wycher, who had been sent in advance of the column commanded by General Breckinridge, attacked a body of the enemy near Marion, and drove it to Mt. Airy, eight miles from Wytheville, General Breckinridge pressed on to support him, and when we reached Marion we found Wycher coming back, closely pursued by a much stronger party of the enemy. Cosby's brigade, which was in the front of our column, at once attacked, and the whole command having been deployed and moved up, the enemy were easily driven back across the creek, two miles beyond Wytheville. Giltner and Cosby halted without crossing the creek. My brigade crossed and pressed the Federals back some distance further on the right of our line of advance. Night coming on I took a position on a commanding ridge, which stretches from the creek in a southeasterly direction. My left flank rested near the ford at which we had crossed, and my line was at an obtuse angle with that of the other brigades, which had not crossed, and inclining toward the position of the enemy. During the night I kept my men in line of battle.

On the next morning, it became soon evident that Stoneman's entire force, or very nearly all of it, had arrived during the night and was confronting us. After feeling the line, commencing on our left, the enemy apparently became impressed, with the belief that the proper point to attack was upon our right, and he accordingly made heavy rushes in rapid succession upon my position. I had but two hundred and twenty men, and was reinforced at midday by Colonel Wycher with fifty of his battalion.

The line we were required to hold was at least half a mile long, and I say without hesitation, that troops never fought more resolutely and bravely than did those I commanded on that day. The men were formed in a single slim skirmish line, with intervals of five or six feet between the files, and yet the enemy could not break the line or force them away. We were forced to receive attack where the enemy chose to make it, not daring, with our limited number and the important responsibility of holding our position, to attack in turn. Had the position been taken, the ford would have fallen into the possession of the enemy, and he would have been master of the entire field. The fire which met the advancing Federals at every effort which they made was the most deadly I ever saw. Our ammunition gave out three times, but, fortunately, we were enabled to replenish it during the lulls in the fighting. The sharpshooting upon both sides, in the intervals of attack, was excellent. Charlie Taylor, the best shot in my brigade, and one of the bravest soldiers, killed a man at almost every shot. I would gladly mention the names of those who deserved distinguished honor for their conduct, but it would require me, to do so, to give the name of every officer and private in the brigade.

About three o'clock, Colonel Napier, who was commanding upon the extreme left, advanced, and, sweeping down the line, drove back a body of the enemy immediately confronting his own little battalion, and struck the flank of another moving to attack the right of the position. But coming suddenly upon a miscegenated line of white and colored troops, which rose suddenly from ambush and fired into the faces of his men, his line fell back. The combatants fought here, for a while, with clubbed guns, and the negroes, who seemed furious with fear, used theirs as they would mauls. One unusually big and black darkey seemed to be much surprised, when first stumbled upon, and exclaiming "Dar dey is!" almost let his eyes pop out of their sockets. Soon after this, the most serious charge of the day was made upon the right and center. The enemy came in two lines, each twelve or fifteen hundred strong. The front line swung first one end foremost, then the other, as it came on at the double-quick, and my line, facing to the right and left, massed alternately at the threatened points. This time the Federals came up so close to us that I believed the position lost. Their repulse was chiefly due to the exertions of Captain Lea and Colonel Wycher, so far as the efforts of officers contributed to a victory which nothing but the unflinching courage of the men could have secured.

The first line, after driving us nearly a hundred yards, and completely turning our right, finally recoiled, and the second ran as early. But they left many dead behind. Our loss was surprisingly small in this fight—the enemy fired heavy volleys, but too high.

Receiving a reinforcement of sixty men, just before sundown, I sent it to get in the enemy's rear, and attack his horse-holders, expecting great results from the movement. But the officer in command was timid and would do nothing.

The enemy made no further attack, and seemed hopeless of fencing us away.

Late that night, our ammunition having almost entirely given out, we quitted our position and fell back, through Marion. Marching then southwardly, through the gorges of the mountain, we reached Rye Valley, fifteen miles distant, by morning. The enemy did not move during the night, nor indeed until ten or eleven, a.m., next day, and certain information had reached him of our retreat.

It can safely be asserted that we were not worsted in this fight, although for lack of ammunition we quitted the field. Every attack made by the enemy upon our position was repulsed, notwithstanding our greatly inferior numbers. Our loss was slight; his was heavy. General Breckinridge declared that no troops could have fought better or more successfully than those which held the right.

From Rye Valley we moved to the main road again, striking it at Mount Airy, thirteen miles from Marion. Here General Breckinridge learned that the enemy had marched directly by to Saltville. He entertained grave fears that the place would be taken, having no confidence in the ability of the small garrison to hold it. His fears were realized. He instructed me to collect details, from all the brigades, of men who were least exhausted, and the most serviceable horses, and follow the enemy as closely as I could, relieving Saltville, if the garrison held out until I arrived. I accordingly marched with three hundred men, arriving at Seven-mile Ford at nightfall on the 19th. I halted until one o'clock at night, and then pressed on, over terrible roads, and reached the vicinity of Saltville at daylight. The night was bitterly cold, and the men were so chilled that they were scarcely able to sit on their horses.

Passing through Lyon's gap we discovered indication, scarcely to be mistaken, that Saltville had indeed fallen. Still it was necessary to make sure, and I moved in the direction of the southern defenses. Shortly afterward, the sight of the enemy and a skirmish which showed a strong force in line, convinced me that I could not enter the place. Scouts, sent to reconnoiter, returned declaring that the enemy held all the entrances. I lost one man killed. Falling back three miles I went into camp to await the time when the enemy should commence his retreat. This he did on the 22nd, and marched toward Kentucky. We immediately followed. At Hyter's Gap the forces of the enemy divided. Those under Gillem moving in the direction of Tennessee, those under Burbridge going straight toward Kentucky. We followed the latter. There is no word in the English language which adequately expresses how cold it was. Our horses, already tired down and half starved, could scarcely hobble. Those of the enemy were in worse condition, and it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that for ten miles a man could have walked on dead ones. They lay dead and stark frozen in every conceivable and revolting attitude, as death had overtaken them in their agony. Saddles, guns, accouterments of all kinds strewed the road like the debris of a rout. We picked up many stragglers. Some pieces of artillery were abandoned but burned.

When we reached Wheeler's ford, fifty-two miles from Saltville, I had left, of my three hundred, only fifty men. Here we had our last skirmish with the enemy, and gave up the pursuit. More than one hundred prisoners were taken, many of them unable to walk. The Federals lost hundreds of men, whose limbs, rotted by the cold, had to be amputated. Such suffering, to be conceived, must be witnessed. The raid had accomplished great things, but at terrible cost. Soon after this, my brigade went into winter quarters. Forage was scarcely to be had at all in the department, and I sent my horses, with a strong detail to guard and attend to them, to North Carolina. The men could scarcely be reconciled to this parting with their best friends, and feared, too, it preluded infantry service. In the winter huts built at Abingdon, they were sufficiently comfortable, but were half famished. The country was almost bare of supplies. Still they bore up, cheerful and resolute.

In March we were ordered to Lynchburg to assist in defending that place against Sheridan. He passed by, however, and struck at larger game. About this time the men who had lain so long, suffered so much, and endured so heroically in prison, began to arrive. The men who had braved every hardship, in field and camp, were now reinforced by those who were fresh from the harsh insults and galling sense of captivity. Six months earlier this addition to our numbers would have told—now it was too late.

Our gallant boys would not halt or rest until they rejoined their old comrades. Then they crowded around with many a story of their prison life, and vow of revenge—never to be accomplished. All asked for arms, and to be placed at once in the ranks. Very few, however, had been already exchanged, and all the others were placed, much against their will, in "Parole camp" at Christiansburg. In April, the enemy advanced again from East Tennessee. Stoneman raided through North Carolina—tapped the only road which connected Richmond with the Southern territory still available, at Salisbury, and then suddenly turned up in our rear, and between us and Richmond. This decided General Early, who was then commanding the department, to move eastwardly that he might get closer to General Lee. All the troops in the department were massed, and we moved as rapidly as it was possible to do. At Wytheville, Giltner met a detachment of the enemy and defeated it. At New river, we found the bridge burned by the enemy, who had anticipated us there, and we marched on toward Lynchburg, on his track. General Early having fallen ill, the command devolved upon General Echols. This officer did all that any man could have done, to preserve the morale of the troops. He was possessed of remarkable administrative capacity, and great tact, as well as energy. While firm, he was exceedingly popular in manner and address, and maintained good humor and satisfaction among the troops, while he preserved order and efficiency.

General Echols had, at this time, besides the cavalry commands of Vaughan, Cosby, Giltner and mine, some four or five thousand infantry—the division of General Wharton, and the small brigades commanded by Colonels Trigg and Preston. My brigade was doing duty as infantry—the horses having not yet returned. Marching about twenty-five miles every day, the men became more than ever disgusted with the infantry service, and their feet suffered as much as their temper. It was observed that the men just returned from prison, although least prepared for it, complained least of the hard marching.

We well knew at this time, that General Lee had been at length forced to evacuate Richmond, but we hoped that followed by the bulk of his army, he would retreat safely to some point where he could effect a junction with General Joseph Johnston, and collect, also, all of the detachments of troops which had previously operated at a distance from the large armies. The troops which General Echols commanded, were veterans, and they understood the signs which were now rife and public. But they were not altogether hopeless, and were still resolute although their old enthusiasm was utterly gone. They still received encouragement from the citizens of the section through which they marched.

It is but justice to the noble people of Virginia to declare that they did not despair of their country until after it was no more. There were individual defections among the Virginians—rare and indelibly branded—but as a people, they were worthy of their traditions and their hereditary honor. With rocking crash and ruin all around her, the grand old commonwealth, scathed by the storm and shaken by the resistless convulsion, still towered erect and proud to the last, and fell only when the entire land had given away beneath her. Two strange features characterized the temper of the Southern people in the last days of the Confederacy. Crushed and dispirited as they were, they still seemed unable to realize the fact that the cause was utterly lost. Even when their fate stared them in the face, they could not recognize it.

Again, when our final ruin came, it was consummated in the twinkling of an eye. We floated confidently to the edge of the cataract, went whirling over and lying utterly stunned at the bottom, never looked back at the path we had followed. The Southern people strained every nerve to resist, and when all efforts failed, sank powerless and unnerved.

The struggle was a hard one. Since the days of Roman conquest the earth has not seen such energy, persistency and ingenuity in arts of subjugation. Since Titus encompassed Jerusalem and the Aurelian shook the east with his fierce legions, a more stubborn, desperate and lavish resistance has not been witnessed against attack so resolute, systematic and overwhelming. The Roman eagle never presaged a wider, more thorough desolation than that of which the flag of the Union was the harbinger. For four years the struggle was maintained against this mighty power. When in the spring of 1865, one hundred and thirty-four thousand wretched, broken-down rebels stood, from Richmond to the Rio Grande, confronting one million fifteen thousand veteran soldiers, trained to all the vicissitudes, equal to all the shocks of war—is it wonderful that when this tremendous host moved all at once, resistance at length, and finally ceased. And this struggle had worn down the people as well as the soldiery. Four years of such bitter, constant, exhausting strife, racking the entire land, until the foot of the conqueror had tracked it from one end to the other, accomplished its objects in time. Even the women, whose heroism outshone any ever displayed upon the battlefield, whose devoted self-sacrificing charity and benevolence can never be justly recorded, whose courage had seemed dauntless, were at last overcome by the misery which surrounded them, and a power which seemed resistless and inexorable.

While we were marching to join General Lee, and after the news of the evacuation of Richmond had been confirmed, we heard of an event which was as ominous as it was melancholy. We learned that a man had been killed, whose name had so long been associated with the army of Northern Virginia and its victories, that it almost seemed as if his life must be identified with its existence. The officer who was the very incarnation of the chivalry, the big-souled constancy, the glorious vigor of that army—General A.P. Hill—was dead. He was a hero, and he died like one. When the lines around Richmond were forced—his gallant corps overpowered, he was slain in the front still facing the enemy. His record had been completed, and he gave his life away, as if it were worthless after the cause to which he had pledged it was lost.

While General Echols was still confident that he would be able to join General Lee at some point to the south west of Richmond, most probably Danville, we learned with a dismay which is indescribable, that he had surrendered. If the light of heaven had gone out, a more utter despair and consternation would not have ensued. When the news first came, it perfectly paralyzed every one. Men looked at each other as if they had just heard a sentence of death and eternal ruin passed upon all. The effect of the news upon the infantry was to cause an entire disorganization. Crowds of them threw down their arms and left, and those who remained lost all sense of discipline.

On the next day, General Echols called a council of war, announced his intention of taking all the men who would follow him to General Joseph E. Johnston, and consulted his officers regarding the temper of the men. The infantry officers declared that their men would not go, and that it was useless to attempt to make them.

General Echols then issued an order furloughing the infantry soldiers for sixty days. He believed that this method would, at the end of that time, if the war was still going on, secure many to the Confederacy, while to attempt to force them to follow him would be unavailing and would make them all bitterly hostile in the future. He issued orders to the cavalry commanders to be prepared to march at four p.m., in the direction of North Carolina.

I obtained permission from him to mount my men on mules taken from the wagons, which were necessarily abandoned. My command was about six hundred strong. All the men furloughed during the winter and spring had promptly reported, and it was increased by more than two hundred exchanged men. Of the entire number, not more than ten (some of these officers) failed to respond to the orders to continue their march to General Johnston's army. The rain was falling in torrents when we prepared to start upon a march which seemed fraught with danger. The men were drenched, and mounted upon mules without saddles, and with blind bridles or rope halters. Every thing conspired to remind them of the gloomy situation. The dreadful news was fresh in their ears. Thousands of men had disbanded around them, two Kentucky brigades had left in their sight to go home, they were told that Stoneman held the gaps in the mountains through which they would have to pass. The gloomy skies seemed to threaten disaster. But braver in the hour of despair than ever before, they never faltered or murmured. The trial found them true, I can safely say that the men of my brigade were even more prompt in rendering obedience, more careful in doing their full duty at this time, when it was entirely optional with themselves whether they should go or stay, than they had ever been in the most prosperous days of the Confederacy. To command such men was the proudest honor that an officer could obtain.

We moved off in silence, broken by a cheer when we passed Vaughan's brigade which was also going on. On the next day we were overtaken by ninety men from Giltner's brigade, who came to join us. Colonel Dimond and Captains Scott, Rogers, Barrett, and Willis, and Lieutenant Freeman, well known as among the best officers of the Kentucky Confederate troops, commanded them. These men felt as we did, that disaster gave us no right to quit the service in which we had enlisted, and that so long as the Confederate Government survived, it had a claim upon us that we could not refuse.

The reports that the gaps were occupied by the enemy proved untrue, and we entered North Carolina without seeing a Federal. At Statesville, General Echols left us to go to General Johnston's camp. Vaughan was instructed to proceed to Morgantown, south of the Catawba river, and I pushed on toward Lincolnton, where I expected to find Colonel Napier with the horses. Just after crossing the river, information was received that a part of Stoneman's force was marching from the west in the same direction. I hoped, by moving rapidly, to get to Lincolnton first. The enemy's column moved upon a road which approached closely to the one by which we were marching. Our scouts were fighting, during the afternoon, upon the by-roads which connected the main ones. When within two miles of Lincolnton, videttes came back rapidly to tell me that the enemy had occupied the town, and were coming out to meet us.

I was unwilling to fight, and knew that to countermarch would be ruinous. Fortunately an officer had, a little while before, mentioned that a small road turned off to the left two miles from Lincolnton, and led to other traces and paths, which conducted to the main road to Charlotte. The head of the column was just at a road which answered to the description he had given, and, strengthening the advance guard to hold the enemy in check, I turned the column into it. It proved to be the right one, and, pressing guides, we reached, after a march of twelve or fifteen miles, the Charlotte road, and were between that place and the enemy. At daybreak next morning we moved on slowly. The enemy reached the bridge over the Catawba after we had passed and had partially torn up the bottom. At Charlotte we found a battalion of General Ferguson's brigade of Mississippi cavalry.

On the next day, Mr. Davis and his Cabinet arrived, escorted by General Debrell's division of cavalry, in which was Williams' Kentucky brigade, commanded then by Colonel Breckinridge. In a day or two the town was filled with unattached officers, disbanded and straggling soldiers, the relics of the naval forces, fleeing officials and the small change of the Richmond bureaux.

The negotiations were then pending between Generals Johnston and Sherman. General Breckinridge, in his capacity of Secretary of War, assisted at these conferences, but he was impatiently expected by Mr. Davis. The latter, on the day of his arrival, made the speech which has been so much commented upon. It was simply a manly, courageous appeal to the people to be true to themselves. The news of the assassination of Mr. Lincoln was received, during this period, but was almost universally disbelieved. When General Breckenridge arrived, he brought the first authoritative account of the Sherman and Johnston cartel. But two days later, General Johnston telegraphed that the authorities at Washington had repudiated it; that the armistice was broken off, and that he was preparing to surrender. Then there was another stir and commotion among the refugees. The greater part chose to remain at Charlotte, and accept the terms granted General Johnston's army.

Mr. Davis, accompanied by General Breckinridge and the members of his cabinet, quitted Charlotte, to march, if possible, to Generals Taylor and Forrest, in Alabama. The five brigades of Ferguson, Debrell, Breckinridge, Vaughan, and mine, composed his escort. At Unionville I found Colonel Napier, with all the forces he had been able to save from the enemy, and seventy or eighty men. This increased the strength of the brigade to 751 effectives.

I asked and obtained promotion, well won and deserved, for several officers. Major Steele was made Colonel; Captains Logan and Messick, Lieutenant-Colonels; Sergeant Jno. Carter, Captain; Captains Davis and Gwynn, of my staff, to whom I owed gratitude for inestimable assistance, were made Majors. I wished for promotion for other officers—indeed they all deserved it—but was assured that so many commissions could not be issued at once. Even the gallant officers who had joined us with the detachment from Giltner's brigade, could not obtain commissions, which they would have valued the more highly, because they were soon to expire.

We moved through South Carolina with great deliberation—so slowly, indeed, that with the detachments constantly passing them on their way to surrender, the morale of the troops was seriously impaired. Nothing demoralizes cavalry more than dilatory movements in time of danger. They argue that it indicates irresolution on the part of their leaders.

While in South Carolina, an old lady reproached some men of my brigade very bitterly for taking forage from her barn. "You are a gang of thieving, rascally, Kentuckians," she said; "afraid to go home, while our boys are surrendering decently." "Madam," answered one of them, "you are speaking out of your turn; South Carolina had a good deal to say in getting up this war, but we Kentuckians have contracted to close it out."

At Abbeville, where we were received with the kindest hospitality, was held the last Confederate council of war. Mr. Davis desired to know, from his brigade commanders, the true spirit of the men. He presided himself. Beside Generals Breckinridge and Bragg, none others were present than the five brigade commanders. Mr. Davis was apparently untouched by any of the demoralization which prevailed—he was affable, dignified and looked the very personification of high and undaunted courage. Each officer gave in turn, a statement of the condition and feeling of his men, and, when urged to do so, declared his own views of the situation. In substance, all said the same. They and their followers despaired of successfully conducting the war, and doubted the propriety of prolonging it. The honor of the soldiery was involved in securing Mr. Davis' safe escape, and their pride induced them to put off submission to the last moment. They would risk battle in the accomplishments of these objects—but would not ask their men to struggle against a fate, which was inevitable, and forfeit all hope of a restoration to their homes and friends. Mr. Davis declared that he wished to hear no plan which had for its object, only his safety—that twenty-five hundred brave men were enough to prolong the war, until the panic had passed away, and they would then be a nucleus for thousands more. He urged us to accept his views. We were silent, for we could not agree with him, and respected him too much to reply. He then said, bitterly, that he saw all hope was gone—that all the friends of the South were prepared to consent to her degradation. When he arose to leave the room, he had lost his erect bearing, his face was pale, and he faltered so much in his step that he was compelled to lean upon General Breckinridge. It was a sad sight to men who felt toward him as we did. I will venture to say that nothing he has subsequently endured, equaled the bitterness of that moment.

At the Savannah river, next day, the men were paid, through the influence of General Breckinridge, with a portion of the gold brought from Richmond. Each man got from twenty-six to thirty-two dollars—as he was lucky. Generals Vaughan and Debrell remained at the river to surrender. At Washington, Georgia, on the same day, the 7th of May, Mr. Davis left us, with the understanding that he was to attempt to make his escape. General Breckinridge had determined to proceed, with all the men remaining, in an opposite direction, and divert if possible all pursuit from Mr. Davis. That night, General Ferguson's brigade went to Macon to surrender, Ferguson himself going to Mississippi. On the next morning, some three hundred fifty of my brigade and a portion of William's brigade, under Colonel Breckinridge, marched to Woodstock, Georgia.

Many men of my brigade, dismounted and unable to obtain horses, and many of the paroled men, hoping to be exchanged, had followed us out from Virginia, walking more than three hundred miles. When at length, unwilling to expose them to further risk and suffering, I positively prohibited their coming further, they wept like children. A great portion of the men with Colonel Breckinridge were from his own regiment, the Ninth Kentucky, and the former "Morgan men," so long separated, were united just as all was lost. The glorious old "Kentucky brigade," as the infantry brigade, first commanded by General Breckinridge, then by Hanson and Helm, was not many miles distant, and surrendered about the same time. Upon leaving Washington, General Breckinridge, accompanied by his staff and some forty-five men, personally commanded by Colonel Breckinridge had taken a different road from that upon which the brigade had marched. When I arrived at Woodstock I did not find him there as I had expected.

Hours elapsed and he did not come. They were hours of intense anxiety. In our front was a much superior force of Federal cavalry—to go forward would provoke an engagement, and it could only result in severe and bloody defeat.

Retreat, by the way we had come, was impossible. Upon the left, if we escaped the enemy, we would be stopped by the sea.

I could not determine to surrender until I had heard from General Breckinridge, who was, at once, commander of all the Confederate forces yet in the field, in this vicinity, and the sole remaining officer of the Government.

Nor, until he declared it, could I know that enough had been done to assure the escape of Mr. Davis.

The suspense was galling. At length Colonel Breckinridge arrived with a message from the General.

While proceeding leisurely along the road, upon which he had left Washington, General Breckinridge had suddenly encountered a battalion of Federal cavalry, formed his forty-five men, and prepared to charge them. They halted, sent in a flag of truce, and parlied.

General Breckinridge saw that he could no longer delay his own attempt at escape, and while the conference was proceeding; set off with a few of his personal staff.

After a sufficient time had elapsed to let him get all away, Colonel Breckinridge marched by the enemy (a flag of truce having been agreed on), and came directly to Woodstock. General Breckinridge directed him to say, that he had good reason to believe that Generals Forrest and Taylor had already surrendered. That if we succeeded in crossing the Mississippi, we would find all there prepared to surrender. He counseled an immediate surrender upon our part, urging that it was folly to think of holding out longer and criminal to risk the lives of the men when no good could possibly be accomplished. He wished them to return to Kentucky—to their homes and kindred. He forbade any effort to assist his escape. "I will not have," he said, "one of these young men to encounter one hazard more for my sake." Bidding his young countrymen return to the loved land of their birth, he went off into exile.

The men were immediately formed, and the words of the chieftain they most loved and honored, repeated to them. They declared that they had striven to do their duty and preserve their honor, and felt that they could accept, without disgrace, release from service which they had worthily discharged. Then the last organization of "Morgan men" was disbanded. Comrades, who felt for each other the esteem and affection which brave and true men cherish, parted with sad hearts and dimmed eyes. There remained of the "old command," only the recollections of an eventful career and the ties of friendship which would ever bind its members together. There was no humiliation for these men. They had done their part and served faithfully, until there was no longer a cause and a country to serve. They knew not what their fate would be, and indulged in no speculation regarding it. They had been taught fortitude by the past, and, without useless repining and unmanly fear, they faced the future.

Transcriber's note: many words, in particular proper names, have a variety of spellings in the original document, in which case a consistent spelling has been applied.