I had intended on arriving at home to enlist in the Union army, and under the old starry banner at once, but deferred the matter on account of my brother's sickness; but within a few days after his death I enlisted at Portsmouth to join Fremont's body guard, but eventually went into the 4th Ohio Cavalry, commanded by Colonel John Kennett. I was sworn into the service by Lieutenant S. K. Williams, and was sworn into the 4th Cavalry again by Captain O. P. Robie, of Company A, at Cincinnati, and on the 16th of September, 1861, found myself at Camp Gurley, undergoing lessons in the intricacies of the cavalry drill under Sergeant Charles D. Henry, of Company A.

We drew horses soon after I arrived in camp, and after a few weeks of preparation in tactics and the usual amount of soldier pranks in the neighborhood, we moved to Camp Dennison, when on the 20th day of November we were finally mustered into the service. We remained at Camp Dennison till the latter part of winter, or the first of spring, when we were ordered into Kentucky. I was exceedingly sick of the idleness of camp life, and hailed marching orders with delight, as did all the boys, who, like myself, delighted in a roving life.

I do not recollect the day of the month on which we left Ohio, but we at once proceeded to Louisville, stopping a brief period at Camp Kennett, near Jeffersonville, and in due course of time found ourselves on the mudbound shores of Bacon creek. This historic stream derives its name from a circumstance connected with the early settlement of Kentucky; a lot of hunters having encamped upon it to bacon their bear meat. This fact I learned from the "oldest inhabitant," and considering the circumstances and the customs of pioneers, I have no doubt of its correctness.

At this time we were under command of General O. M. Mitchell, and it is perhaps unnecessary here to add that men under so energetic a commander were never idle. We scouted the country thoroughly in every direction, but did not meet the enemy at any point willing to give us battle, and hence we had no fighting in Kentucky. During our trip down Green river, we all suffered severely from cold and exposure, but the rebels always retired before us; and perhaps they were right.

On leaving Bacon creek, we marched on Bowling Green, General Mitchell being, as was usual with him, in great haste to follow up the flying enemy; and such was his energy, and so well appointed was everything in his army, that the obstructions in the roads, upon which the rebels had wasted so much labor, scarcely formed an impediment to his march. He had a regiment of pioneers from Michigan who were the best working men I ever saw, and they cleared the way for the advance with a rapidity almost unparalleled.

The army advanced on Bowling Green while the detachment I was with was on a scout down Green river; and on coming in, Captain Robie and myself galloped our horses all the way from Mumfordsville to Bowling Green, a distance of thirty-four miles. About a mile from Mumfordsville we found, by the side of the railroad, the corpse of a boy belong to General Sill's old regiment; he had died at a hospital near by, and the steward had sent three other sick men to carry the body to Mumfordsville, and they had sunk exhausted by the road. A train which had been out in that direction refused to take the body on for the men, and while I was looking at the corpse the same engine came back, and when it stopped I called the conductor, but he refused with an oath to take the body on the train, saying he had enough live men on. This enraged me considerably, and I drew a pistol on him, which had a very decided effect indeed, and he helped to put the corpse on the train. He, however, threatened to report me for stopping him, but at that moment Captain Robie came up, and the fellow found it convenient to have nothing more to say. I suppose he delivered the corpse in Mumfordsville, but he was mean enough to throw it off the train. The boy was a fine looking youth—sixteen years of age, and the sight of it and of the exhausted, sorrow-stricken soldiers, would have melted any but a heart of stone.

We arrived at Bowling Green just as Captain Loomis, of the Coldwater Battery, from Michigan, was shelling the Johnnies out of the place. At the instant I rode up to the river bank, I espied General Mitchell with his hat off, calling for volunteers—I did not know for what—but I volunteered, when I discovered that it was to carry a rope over Big Barren river, in order to enable him to swing a pontoon over the stream. Sergeant Frank Robie, another soldier and myself, mounted a little raft made of plank, on which we put a coil of rope, and then we pushed out, paying out the coil as we went. The raft was a small, frail structure, and the current setting against the rope made it swing up and down, so that we were frequently in the water up to our knees, and as the river ran very swiftly, the reader may very well imagine that we had a dangerous ride of it, to say nothing about the bullets of the rebels, from the opposite shore—about twenty of which were fired at us while we were engaged in the work, though luckily none of them took effect; but our infantry firing soon made the reprobates "light out" from their position.

Captain Loomis knocked the stack off the locomotive just as the train loaded with rebel soldiers was about to start out, and they barely had time to save themselves as we entered the town.

We finally got a rope over, through the protection afforded us by our infantry, and by the assistance of Lieutenant Shoemaker, of the Fourth Cavalry, Captain Yates, of the engineers, began throwing in his pontoons. The bridge would soon have been completed; but, at this point, General Mitchell rode up, and told us we could all go to bed now, as some of the men had found a ferry boat two miles below, which was capable of conveying two hundred men, and that that would be sufficient to accomplish his purpose.

Part of the 19th Illinois and 18th Ohio infantry were double-quicked down the river, at once, to the boat, and crossed over, and then double-quicked up again, on the opposite side of the stream to the town, in time to drive out the rear guard of the rebels—some five hundred in number, who were busily engaged in destroying the place.

On the first night after our arrival at Bowling Green, an attempt was made to fire the stables where our horses were, with a view to the destruction of the animals; but Providence favored us, and the wind suddenly changed, and the flames did not communicate to the buildings. Had they done so, our stock would have certainly perished in the flames, as we could not have released the horses in time. Seven large brick buildings were destroyed, and some frames were burned, between the stables and the public square. These were the first ones fired, and the incendiaries believed the flames would reach the stables, and destroy both horses and equipments; but their purposes were foiled, by the shifting of the wind.

On the following morning, detachments of our cavalry scoured the country in every direction, capturing a great many rebels, who were destroying property and pillaging houses, passing themselves off as federal soldiers. It was a common game and one easily played, amid the panic and excitement that followed the fall of Bowling Green; the people having been made to believe there was no crime too vile for the "Northern vandals." But the cavalry soon came over, and the citizens could readily discover the difference, and they began, at once, to inform us where these rebel depredators were to be found.

Seven hundred rebels were reported in the vicinity of Russelville, while yet others were prowling around in the county, and Lieutenant Harris with a small detachment was sent out to destroy the railroad, of which party I was one. We went to South Union, in Logan county, where I was sent out with seven men a short distance below, to stand picket. While on duty, a very remarkable looking man rode up to me and said:

"I am told you have come here to protect citizens in their lives and property."

"Yes," I replied, "that is our purpose."

"Well," he continued, "my name is Ray; I am a physician, and I own an interest in a large steam mill, five miles further down in the country, and it is to be burned to-night by the Texas Rangers; twenty-five of whom were detailed to burn it, and several others in the county. Can you do anything to save it?"

"Yes, sir," was my response, "get my men some supper, while I go back and see my commanding officer."

I went to see the Lieutenant, back at the town, while Dr. Ray was preparing supper for the squad. The Lieutenant at once gave me permission to go to the mill, if I desired to do so; and, after reaching the picket post, the Doctor came with the provisions, and I told him I was ready. We started immediately for the town of Auburn, where the mill was located; when the Doctor looked anxiously around, and asked:

"Where are your men?"

I told him I did not need any soldiers, but would call on the citizens for help, and inquired how many could be relied on in an emergency, and he said about twenty; and I told him that was enough provided I could get them out. When we reached the mill, we succeeded in raising but half a dozen men, including the miller and his employees. I then told the Doctor that he must go into the mill and pile all the empty barrels up as high as he could reach, so that when one pile is pushed over, the whole lot would tumble down with it, and make a great racket. "Then," I said, "I will fire off my gun, and then you knock the empty barrels about, and shout: 'Turn out the guard;' and 'Fall in, men,' and we will make as much noise as if there was an hundred of us," after which I went into the coopershop to instruct the men. There were several good places for protection in the shop, from which they were to fire on any advancing party, after I had discharged the signal gun; and to all my arrangements the party agreed. The miller then went to his house and brought down hot biscuits, fresh butter, sweet milk and eggs, for a lunch, which we greedily consumed; after which two of the party went out to patrol the vicinity. We kept turn now guarding till about eleven o'clock at night, when one of the men came running in, almost breathless with excitement, saying, that they were coming from down the road.

I stationed the men to my notion, and began to walk a beat before the mill, taking good care to make sufficient noise with my saber, resolved to attract attention. Very soon a small party of horsemen came at a gallop toward us; and when they were within gunshot, I shouted "halt," and immediately fired on them. The effect was magical. The rebels wheeled in confusion, running for their lives; while my men fired upon them as fast as they could, and the old doctor thundered the barrels about, and yelled like a madman.

The enemy were ignominiously defeated—put to flight. The doctor jumped and capered with joy, to see the effect of our strategy; it even seemed to make him young again. As soon as the excitement was over, we reloaded our pieces, piled up our barrels, and waited for a second attack, as we felt certain they would not give it up that way; but notwithstanding our expectations they did, and we were not disturbed by that party.

However, just after midnight another party advanced upon us, and we again stood on the defensive; but no sooner did I challenge the advancing men, than I recognized the voice of Major Dreisbach, of the 4th Ohio Cavalry, and among the men was Captain Robie, of Company A; and we were not obliged to renew either our firing or our strategy.

From this place I was sent to Russelville, to ascertain the strength of the force there, and such other particulars as would be of advantage to the service. I rode rapidly, in order to get in the town at night, and out again before daylight, so that I might obtain and communicate the desired information, before he came near enough to engage the enemy. They were represented at seven hundred strong; while the Major's command only numbered one hundred men. I succeeded in getting into the town, and rousing some of the inhabitants, represented myself as a confederate quartermaster, and asked them to tell me where the Texas Rangers were, and inquired about Col. Wharton and other rebel officers, with the air of an old acquaintance. They informed me that the regiment had left town about an hour before; but if I would hurry on, I would overtake them at Whippoorwill Station; and that they intended to burn the bridge at that place, and would be delayed a short time. I next inquired about the government property there; and one man went to show me the different stores of flour and other provisions, of which there was an immense quantity in town; after which I went to Grey's tavern and ordered breakfast for a hundred Texan Rangers, telling him to have it ready for us just at daylight, which he promised to do, and I rode off to our command.

All this was done so quickly and coolly, that the citizens were not alarmed, and we even captured some of Wharton's men who were sleeping in town, at various houses; while the amount of stores which fell into our hands, was immense.

The landlord had taken me at my word, and we had a splendid breakfast, which had been prepared for the Rangers, who, alas, for my veracity, turned out to be real blue-coated Yankees. However, we devoured our meal with as much relish, and as great an amount of enjoyment, as if we had come from the banks of the Rio Grande, and ridden all the way to Russelville in a day. To tell the truth, we were fearfully hungry, and did as hungry men do.

Circumstances were such that the troops were soon recalled from the town, and they evacuated it, while I was down on the Tennessee line, whither I had been sent on another scout, by the Major. When I returned, I found myself alone, and twenty-seven miles from our lines. On passing through, I discovered that the people had commenced to carry off the public stores; and I at once ordered them to stop, telling them if they did not, I would bring a company of men and lay the town in ashes; and my threat had the desired effect. At the depot I found another gang rolling out the flour, and hauling it off in wagons, and I gave them the same warning, but they did not yield so readily. They asked me if I possessed the authority to make the order, and if I was a commissioned officer, etc. This fretted me a little, and drawing my pistol, I rode in among them, and made them roll every barrel back into the depot again; and then shutting and barring the doors, I told them I would kill the next man I found near the place.

While I was down at Allensville, I met a two-horse carriage, in which were four old men and one young man, who seemed to be about twenty-five years of age. Entering into a conversation with them, I soon discovered that the old men were Union men, and that they had got stuck on some confederate money, and that they were going to Nashville to dispose of it for Kentucky State notes; but the young man, as if trying to draw my sentiments from me, expressed himself in the bitterest terms as a rebel. While the conversation was going on, one of the old gentlemen produced a flask of whisky, and passed it first to the other three, and then to me; asking at the same time, if I ever drank. I told them that I seldom drank anything stronger than brandy, and "laid hold." Raising the flask, I said, gentlemen, let us drink to the Constitution and the Union; when the old men shouted "hurrah for the Constitution and the Union," The young man, however, put his head out and fairly yelled: "No, sir, I'm a rebel; I won't drink any such sentiment; I will die first." My first impulse was to thrust my pistol in his face and blow his brains out; but he was unarmed and I would not shoot a defenseless man.

I was alone, and could not be bothered with prisoners; but I was fully determined to punish him in some way. Without answering his vehement expostulation, I turned up the flask and drank very leisurely, without the least show of anger, and then riding close to the carriage, I took the flask in my left hand, and passed it to the young villain, and drawing my pistol with my right, I deliberately leveled it on his breast, and said calmly: "Now, sir, you will drink or die;" and I meant it, for that was the only chance I intended to give him for his life. He seized the flask with trembling hand, his face pale with fright, and, in spite of his recent boasting refusal, he drank until I got afraid I would make him kill himself with whisky, and told him he could stop; that I did not want him to drown himself with Bourbon. Then giving him a few words of counsel, I allowed them all to proceed on their journey, and I turned my attention to the depot, which was surrounded by a villainous looking crowd of disappointed rebels, who had probably met to counsel over the evacuation of Kentucky and their own fate.

There were seven hundred barrels of corn at Auburn, three hundred barrels at Russellville, seven hundred at McCloud's switch, one hundred barrels at Whippoorwill, and as much more at Allensville; and at all of these places there were considerable quantities of wheat, and at Russellville there were stores of mess beef, pork, flour, and arms. I felt that all these things should not be left without a guard, and I well knew we had no men to spare, so I put each depot, and all the stores in the vicinity, in charge of the nearest wealthy citizen, telling him I would hold him responsible for the safety of the buildings and their contents; and that if a dollar's worth was lost or destroyed, he would be compelled to make compensation.

After this, I returned to Bowling Green, and reported my proceedings to Colonel Stanley, who was post commandant there. He approved my proceedings, and directed me to hold the things, till he could send down a guard, which I did, riding from one end to the other of my beat every day—a distance of thirty-two miles.

As soon as our forces had repaired the railroad, they began to remove all the stores to Bowling Green, and I was relieved from guard duty, and returned to South Union, on my way to Bowling Green. Here I was taken sick, with something bordering on pneumonia, and I was compelled to stop at the house of the agent of the Shakers, a venerable man, named Shannon. The women of the society took me into the house, and prepared a bed for me, and nursed me with the greatest care, until I was well enough to travel again. I was walking about in three or four days, and at that time a justice of the peace, named Carson, from Butler county, came to see me, telling me of two men, named Robinson and Keaton, terrors to his neighborhood, who were constantly committing depredations. They claimed to be Union soldiers; but my informant stated that they robbed all they came to, regardless of their political sentiments.

All I could do in this matter, was to arrest the men, and take them to Bowling Green; and it was sixteen miles from where I was, to the place where the depredations were committed. I started, however, for the scene of the troubles, and on my way I met a man named Mobly, and another named Gines, who were known guerrillas, and who had done much mischief in the country. I told them I was informed that they were good, law abiding citizens, and I wished them to join me, and help me arrest a couple of men, who were "raising Cain" down below.

At first they objected, and did not at all like to go. One made an excuse that his wife was sick, and had no wood chopped; and he must hurry home and cut some; while the other (I believe it was Mobly), said that he was necessarily compelled to go to mill, otherwise his family "had obleeged to suffer."

"Where do you live?" I asked; and they pointed in the direction, which, as I suspected, was exactly contrary to the one they were riding. My suspicions were well-founded; they were just then going somewhere to plot, or execute mischief; they were mounted on extraordinarily fine horses, and appeared like very resolute men. I remarked that from the direction they were traveling, I did not think they were going to attend to domestic affairs; and added: "I am a United States officer, and you can not refuse to assist me." Seeing that no excuse would avail, they went along; but I made it a point to put them in the road in front of me, so I could watch them. When I named the men I intended to arrest, they were greatly relieved; they were rejoiced at getting rid of two such men, as the ones referred to, who were their bitter enemies.

They even threw off all appearance of reluctance, and went with me willingly. Passing through the little town, I had another man pointed out to me as one who had been in the Woodbury fight only a short time before, and had come recently from the rebel army; and hailing him, without arousing his suspicion that I knew anything of his antecedents, I told him the same that I had told the others. He tried to beg off, pleading a sick wife; but I informed him I could not possibly excuse him; for if I excused him I must do the same for the others, as they had made a similar request. I stated that he had been recommended to me as a very proper man for the work; that he was anxious to restore law and order, and I could, under no circumstances, dispense with his services. He then invited me to dine with him, while his boy caught his horse, which I readily consented to do. We then mounted and rode in the direction of Kitchen's still-house, where the parties were supposed to be. There had just been a religious meeting in the neighborhood of the still-house, and a large number of men—good Union men, too—had gathered around to drink whisky, and talk politics; and among the number were Keaton and Robinson. I gave my rifle to Porter while I arrested Robinson, leaving Porter to guard the prisoner while I took Keaton into custody. I then gave their arms to my citizen guards, and we mounted them on their horses, and made for Bowling Green, followed by threats and execrations of Union men, who did not know their real character. The last thing I heard was the voice of the old man Kitchen, who shouted that he had forty men and thirty muskets, and he would have the men away from me before we got five miles, adding: "The secesh are having a good time, to-day, arresting Union men with federal soldiers;" but he did not know the joke I had in store for the secesh. The next day I reached Bowling Green, after traveling nearly all night, with my prisoners, who were turned over to Col. Stanley, at the same time preferring charges against each.

I only claimed to have captured five prisoners; but Col. Stanley (of the 18th Ohio) tells the story differently. I had barely got my prisoners delivered to the Colonel, when the old man Kitchen, who really was a good Unionist, got to Bowling Green with about forty men, and demanded to know why Keaton and Robinson had been arrested. The Colonel answered him politely, and was about to dismiss him and his squad, when a well-known Union man identified three bushwhackers in the party, and the Colonel, who had an aversion for that class of men, ordered them all to be arrested and sent to jail. I do not know what ever became of the party, but Col. Stanley always told the story that I had brought him eight prisoners single-handed.

While at Shaker Town I wrote out the following advertisement for T. J. Shannon and other loyal citizens:

6 1-4 CENTS REWARD!

"Ran away from the town of Bowling Green, in Warren county, Kentucky, one George W. Johnson, who claimed to be Provisional Governor of Kentucky. No inquiry would have been made concerning his whereabouts, but for the fact that he had notified the people of Kentucky that they must pay their taxes to him, for the benefit of the so-styled Confederate States of America; and whereas, the people of Kentucky, and Logan county in particular, are law-abiding citizens, and desire earnestly to pay their taxes promptly, and the said George W. Johnson and his ten legal advisers having absconded, and the sheriff appointed by said "legal advisers" being afraid to act, the citizens of Logan county will pay the above reward for his apprehension; but no thanks for his return. The person claiming the reward is to change a $20 Confederate States note at its face."

"Many Citizens."

"Feb. 22, 1862."

The advertisement was duly posted in three conspicuous places, but the money was never claimed. Johnson was afterward arrested, as I learn, but the captor never asked the reward. Death overtook him at Shiloh.

At the same place, I captured a rebel soldier, named Blewitt, and took him before Esquire Holland, where he took the oath of allegiance. We had no form of that oath before us, but the 'squire fixed up one strong enough, and he was about to administer it when a venerable old Shaker said:

"Friend James, thee had better swear him not to break open any more beehives;" and he insisted on a clause to that effect being inserted. The oath, however, was strong enough, when we were through with it.

I now started out in search of my regiment, which, by this time, had nearly reached Nashville. Going by way of Russellville, I got a comrade, who had been wounded when we charged the town. He was an Italian, named Garanchini. I had left him in care of parties at Russellville, and now that he was able to travel, I took him with me, proceeding by way of Springfield. We had no trouble in getting through the country, although we were the first Federals who had appeared in that section of the State.

We found the regiment at Camp Jackson, seven miles south of Nashville, which point we made a base for a great number of scouting adventures, in every section of the country, as we lay there for a considerable length of time.

I was very proud to learn that the 4th Ohio Cavalry had captured the city of Nashville, and that members of that regiment should be the first Federal soldiers to tread the streets of this stronghold of secession. Had "King" Harris known, at the time I applied to him for a pass, in company with my father, that I would become a member of the regiment which demanded and received the surrender of his capital, it is altogether probable that the petty monarch would have held me to a more strict accountability. As there was a misunderstanding soon after as to what troops captured the city, and not wishing to see my comrades robbed of their hard-earned glory, I beg leave to present the following, which is to the point, and, I think, will exhibit the affair in its proper light to every impartial reader:

COPY OF H. C. RODGERS' LETTER TO J. KENNETT.

Colonel Jno. Kennett:

Dear Sir,—According to my recollection, the Second Division commanded by Brig. Gen. Mitchell, advanced upon Nashville from Bowling Green, in the latter part of the month of February, 1862. On this march, the advance was led by the 4th O. V. C., Col. John Kennett commanding. On, or about the 25th, the regiment marched to, and occupied, Edgefield Junction, some eight or ten miles from Nashville. From this place, Col. Kennett immediately ordered forward a detachment of the 4th O. V. C., under my command, with instructions to occupy the village of Edgefield, opposite the city of Nashville, to take possession of all steamboats, or other native craft lying there, and to hold the position. These orders were fully executed—the detachment finding no enemy in Edgefield—a few straggling cavalry in Nashville—my command occupied Edgefield, two days before the command of Gen. Nelson arrived; during which time the Mayor of Nashville twice came over to Edgefield, for the purpose of surrendering the city: on his second visit, the city was surrendered. The mayor, Cheatham, tendering, and Col. Kennett receiving, the surrender. This took place at the residence of Mr. Fuller, in Edgefield. Mr. Fuller, myself and some others, whom I do not remember, were present. This occurrence took place the day before Gen. Nelson's command arrived.

The battery of Capt. Loomis, at the time of this surrender, occupied a position commanding, and within pistol shot of, the heart of the city. The 4th O. V. C. could have occupied the city of Nashville at any time after the occupation of Edgefield, had their instructions permitted it; in fact, a small squad did cross over to the city and back again, on the ferry-boat we had captured.

Mayor Cheatham was anxious to surrender the city, through fear we might shell it, and, in surrendering, he agreed to protect the public property until it was delivered to the United States' officers.

Capt. Loomis' battery was under the direction, at this time, of Col. Kennett.

Generals Buell and Mitchell both, certainly, must have known of the surrender of Nashville before the arrival of Gen. Nelson.

I, myself, brought to them the news of Nelson's arrival, two days after Edgefield was occupied by us.

Yours, truly,
[Signed.] H. C. Rodgers,
Major 4th O. V. C.