Читать книгу: «Raiding with Morgan», страница 4

CHAPTER IV.
MORGAN’S FIRST RAID

All through the month of April General Halleck had been concentrating the mighty armies of almost the entire West for the purpose of crushing Beauregard at Corinth. For a month the two armies lay but a few miles apart, almost daily skirmishes taking place between the outposts.

During the month General O. M. Mitchell had overrun Middle Tennessee, and was holding the Memphis and Charleston railroad from Decatur to Bridgeport, Alabama. Two railroads led south from Nashville, Tennessee, both connecting with the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, one at Decatur, and the other at Stevenson, Alabama. Both of these roads were of vital importance to General Mitchell, for on them he depended for transportation for the sustenance of his army.

These roads had been badly damaged by the Confederate army when it retreated from Nashville, and General Mitchell was busily engaged in repairing them. If repaired and held, it meant that Chattanooga must fall, and the Confederate army be driven still farther south.

John H. Morgan, now promoted to a colonelcy, believed that with a small force the rear of the Federal army could be raided, the railroads cut, bridges burned, and their communications so destroyed that they would be forced to fall back. General Beauregard was not so sanguine. While great damage might be done, and the Federal army subjected to much inconvenience, the contest, after all, would have to be decided by the great armies. Then he needed every man, as Halleck was about to move.

At last he gave Morgan permission to make his raid, but with a force not to exceed five hundred.

It was in the last days of April that Morgan started with his little force, on what seemed to many certain destruction. But every man in the command was full of enthusiasm. They had unlimited faith in their leader, and where he went they would follow.

Following almost the exact route taken by Calhoun, Morgan’s first blow fell on Pulaski, Tennessee. So swift and unexpected had been his movements that the Federals were taken completely by surprise. The place was surrendered without a struggle.

Moving rapidly north, the command attacked and, without any loss, captured a wagon-train en route from Columbia to Athens. Thus at the very commencement of his raid, Morgan captured Pulaski, with all its military stores, a wagon-train, and some two hundred and seventy prisoners, and this without the loss of a man. Among the prisoners captured were a son of General O. M. Mitchell, and our old acquaintance, Lieutenant Haines.

The prisoners were all paroled, and were astonished at the kind treatment they received. Both Captain Jumper, who was in charge of the wagon-train, and the son of General Mitchell were loud in their praise of the way they were used by Morgan.

After destroying all the Federal property captured, and damaging the railroad as much as possible, the command continued on their raid, their route taking them by the plantation of Mr. Osborne. The welcome they received there was a royal one. Colonel Morgan stopped and took dinner with the family.

Here he heard of the adventure of Calhoun, and he laughed long and heartily over the way Calhoun had recovered his horse.

“Tell him,” said Miss Osborne, “that I forgive him his abrupt leaving, as no harm came to father. By the way, Lieutenant Haines has become quite friendly, coming out to see us two or three times.”

“No one can blame him, even if you give him but a moment of your company,” replied Morgan, gallantly. “But Miss Osborne, I am sorry to say we took your friend prisoner. He was paroled, and no doubt is now on his way North.”

Miss Osborne blushed, and then said, “A good riddance; I trust I shall never see him again. But he was kind to papa. He even returned the horse; would not keep him.”

“That is lucky,” responded Morgan, “for if he hadn’t been returned, one of my men would be riding him now, and your chance of getting him would be small.”

From Pulaski Morgan pushed northeast, avoiding Shelbyville and Murfreesboro, both of these places being too strongly garrisoned for him to attack with his small force. He crossed the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad ten miles north of Murfreesboro, burned the depot, and destroyed as much of the track as his limited time would admit. From there he rode straight for Lebanon, Tennessee, which place he reached just at nightfall. The inhabitants received him with the wildest demonstration of joy. But trouble was in store for him. His men, wearied with their long ride, and elated over their continued success, became careless. They knew they were among friends, and thought that no harm could come to them, so they slept without fear.

The Federal authorities had become thoroughly alarmed over his progress. Strong bodies of troops were in swift pursuit, from Shelbyville, from Murfreesboro, and from Nashville.

Just before daylight the Federals charged into the little city with whoop and hurrah. Taken entirely by surprise, Morgan’s men thought only of flight. Two companies under the command of Colonel Robert C. Wood being cut off from their horses, threw themselves into a college building in the outskirts of the city, and for three hours defended themselves with desperation. At last being out of ammunition they were forced to surrender.

In this unfortunate affair Morgan lost nearly two hundred of his best troops. The rest were more or less scattered. He himself was chased for eighteen miles, and the pursuit ceased only when he, with the remnant of his troops, had crossed the Cumberland.

The Federals thought they had thoroughly whipped Morgan, and he would give them no more trouble. But they did not know the man. He had started for Kentucky, and to Kentucky he would go. After crossing the Cumberland, he halted, gathered his scattered command together, and then with less than three hundred men, started for Glasgow.

“Lieutenant Pennington will meet us at Glasgow with reinforcements,” he told his men.

But there were some of his officers who had misgivings. Chief among these was Captain Conway. Speaking to another officer, a Captain Mathews, Conway said: “It’s strange that the Colonel has such confidence in that young upstart. As for me, I look for no reinforcements. The best thing we can do is to get back as soon as possible.”

“Captain, what is the matter?” asked Mathews. “What has that young fellow done that you have taken such a dislike to him?”

“Nothing; but the idea of sending a mere boy on such an important mission! Why did he not send some one back with influence?”

“Pennington is well connected; you know his father is Judge Pennington of Danville.”

“That makes little difference. His mission will be a failure; see if it isn’t. We shall see no reinforcements at Glasgow.”

Just then Morgan came riding along, and seeing Conway said, “Captain, I want to thank you for the gallant manner in which you held back the enemy while the command crossed the Cumberland. You did nobly.”

This praise so pleased Conway that for a time he forgot his supposed grievance.

Without further trouble from the Federals, the little command reached Glasgow, where they were received with open arms by the inhabitants. Houses were thrown open to them and food provided in abundance. But nothing had been heard of any reinforcements.

“What did I tell you?” said Conway to Mathews.

“Wait,” was the answer.

The night was an anxious one. Morning came, but still nothing was heard of any reinforcements.

“We will wait another day,” said Morgan.

About noon cheering was heard, and Morgan’s men nearly went wild with enthusiasm, as nearly two hundred splendidly mounted men came galloping into camp.

When the captain in command reported, Morgan thanked him in the warmest terms, and then looking eagerly around, said: “Where is Lieutenant Pennington? I do not see him.”

“Lieutenant Pennington,” answered the Captain, “asked leave to take twenty men and scout toward Cave City. I gave him permission to do so. He has an idea that the railroad might be reached and broken at that point.”

“Ah! I have thought so myself,” replied Morgan. “I shall wait for his report with interest.”

The arrival of the two fresh companies had raised the command to as large, or larger, than it was when it started from Corinth, and every man was eager to go on. It was nearly night when Calhoun reported with his little company. He was jubilant over what he had discovered.

“Colonel,” he said, “we can easily capture Cave City, and thus sever the connection between Louisville and Nashville. The place is lightly guarded.”

“Oh! If we could only take the place, and capture the train on which my gallant men taken prisoners at Lebanon are being taken North, I should be supremely happy,” said Morgan, with much feeling.

“Perhaps we can,” replied Calhoun, with enthusiasm.

“How about going farther north than Cave City?” asked Morgan.

Calhoun shook his head. “It will not do,” he replied; “all the towns are too strongly held for your small force to cope with.”

“At least we can try Cave City,” answered Morgan, and orders were given for the command to be ready to march at sundown. The vicinity of Cave City was reached about two o’clock in the morning. The column was halted and the men were ordered to rest until daylight.

As soon as it was light, Calhoun, with a soldier named Emory, was sent in advance to the place. They were disguised as countrymen, and were to linger around the depot, and when the charge came they were to prevent the telegraph operator from sending warning of the raid.

Dressed in homespun clothes, and riding sorry steeds, Calhoun and Emory played their part to perfection. Their entrance into the little place caused no comment, and excited no suspicion. Sauntering into the depot, they gazed curiously around.

“What’s that?” asked Calhoun, pointing at the clicking telegraph instrument.

“That, my boy,” said the operator, patronizingly, “is a telegraphic instrument. Did you never see one before?”

“No. What makes it tick?”

“Lightning, my son, lightning; that’s a lightning-catcher.”

Calhoun opened his eyes in wonder. “Jes’ heah that,” he said to Emory. “What is it fer?” he continued, turning his attention to the operator once more.

“To send messages,” replied the operator, amused at the ignorance displayed. “With this little instrument, I can talk with any one at Louisville or Nashville.”

“What’s yo-uns givin’ we-uns,” drawled Calhoun. “Do yo’ take we-uns fo’ a fule?”

A guard who stood idly by laughed long and loud. “A fine specimen of Southern chivalry,” he chuckled.

Just then there came the sound of cheering, pistol shots, and the clatter of horses’ hoofs, mingled with affrighted cries.

“By heavens! the town is being raided,” shouted the operator, as he sprang to his instrument.

“Stop!” thundered Calhoun. “Touch that instrument and you are a dead man.”

The operator looked up amazed, only to find himself covered with a revolver.

The guard at the same time was looking into the muzzle of a weapon held by Emory.

“Drop that gun,” said Emory to the trembling man.

The gun went clanging to the floor.

“You two stand there in the corner with your hands above your heads,” commanded Calhoun.

The operator and the guard obeyed with alacrity. “Keep them covered with your revolver, Emory,” continued Calhoun, “while I see what I can find. Think I will pocket these dispatches first; they may be of use.”

Just then he glanced out of the window and saw four or five soldiers running toward the depot. There might be more following. Giving the telegraphic instrument a kick which sent it flying, he started to leave in a hurry. Then noticing the blanched faces of the soldiers, as they came rushing into the depot, he called out, “No use running, Emory, we can take the whole crowd prisoners, green as we look.”

And they did. There was no fight in the frightened men.

When the excitement was over Calhoun looked over the dispatches which he had captured, and found that a passenger train was due from the south in half an hour, and that it had orders to wait at Cave City for a freight train to pass, coming from the north. This was good news, and Morgan’s men waited, in glee, for the approaching trains.

At the appointed time the passenger train came rolling in. The reception it received astonished every one on board. To Colonel Morgan’s great disappointment his men captured at Lebanon were not on the train; but there were a great many Federal soldiers, principally officers, aboard on their way North. A few of these at first made some show of resistance; but when they saw how hopeless their case was, they sullenly submitted to their fate.

It was not long before the freight train came slowly puffing in. It was an immense train of forty-five cars, heavily loaded with rations, clothing, and munitions of war for Buell’s army. Morgan’s men freely helped themselves from the rich stores to everything that they needed and could carry, and then the work of destruction began.

The torch was applied, and soon the two trains were wrapped in flames. The prisoners, who had gloomily watched the work of destruction, were now lined up, and told that they would be released upon their giving their parole. This they gladly consented to do.

It fell to Calhoun to take a list of their names, with rank and regiment.

“Don’t see why I should be asked to give another parole,” growled a lieutenant. “I gave you fellows one at Pulaski, a short time since, and was on my way home now, to stay until I am exchanged. How often do you want to take a fellow prisoner, anyway?”

Calhoun glanced up much amused. The officer started, stared at him a moment, and then abruptly asked, “Is your name Pennington?”

“It is, Lieutenant Pennington, if you please.”

“You and I have met before.”

“Ah! I know you now. I wish to thank you, for I am told you did not visit your wrath on the Osbornes on account of my abrupt leave-taking.”

“No, the girl had concealed you in the house unbeknown to the old gentleman, and as he had assured me there were no Confederates about, he felt real cut up about it. He actually proffered me another horse in the place of the one you took. Said I was his guest, and should not suffer.”

“Just like an old-fashioned Southern gentleman, the very personification of honesty,” replied Calhoun. “It may interest you, Lieutenant, to know that recovering my horse did me little good, for he went so lame I had to leave him.”

“And took mine in his place,” spoke up a fine-looking Federal officer who stood near, and whose name Calhoun had not yet taken.

“Captain Crawford, as I live,” exclaimed Calhoun, extending his hand. “Captain, I want to give you my sincere thanks. That was a fine horse you loaned me. Must have Kentucky blood in him. I am riding him yet. How about your parole, Captain? You know you absolutely refused to give it to me.”

“I have changed my mind.”

“Ah! that is good. If you refused this time we might be obliged to take you along with us, and that might not be agreeable to you.”

As the Captain gave his parole, he said, “This is the second time we have met. There may be a third meeting, and it may be my time.”

“Au revoir,” gayly replied Calhoun.

Little did he think then of their next meeting, and what it would mean to him.

The prisoners all being paroled, and the work of destruction complete, Morgan’s command returned to Glasgow, loaded with booty.

The capture of the trains and the breaking of the railroad at Cave City caused the greatest excitement throughout the Federal army. It showed the Federal authorities how weak their line of communication was. Although so much depended on Morgan’s capture, he was left for some days almost unmolested. He made a demonstration toward Lebanon, captured a number of prisoners, and then, when the combination against him grew too strong to be resisted, he withdrew at his leisure and at length found rest for his command at Chattanooga.

CHAPTER V.
MORGAN’S FIRST GREAT RAID

The struggle for the possession of Corinth was ended. General Halleck, with his immense army of one hundred and twenty-five thousand men, had thought to reduce the place by regular siege, and force General Beauregard to capitulate, surrendering himself with his whole army.

But Beauregard was too able a general to be caught in a trap. For a month he held the Federal army at bay, and then, when Halleck was about to spring his trap, Beauregard silently withdrew, leaving to him but a barren victory.

The Confederate army was saved, and to the Federal forces the occupation of Corinth proved as demoralizing as a defeat. The result showed that John Morgan was right when he said that the hope of the South rested, not on the occupancy of any single place, but on the safety of its armies.

The fall of Corinth at once changed the theatre of war. The Federal army was divided, the Army of the Tennessee, under Grant, remaining in Mississippi and Western Tennessee, and the Army of the Ohio, under Buell, being ordered to march east and capture Chattanooga.

If Buell had acted promptly and swiftly, he might have been successful, and the death-blow would have been given to the Confederacy long before it was. But he moved slowly and haltingly, and the golden opportunity was lost. It gave the Confederacy time to transfer to Chattanooga the larger part of the army which had been at Corinth. The command of this army was given to General Braxton Bragg, a brave man, and by many thought to be one of the ablest generals of the South.

It at once became the dream of General Bragg to gather as large an army as possible, then march northward clear to the Ohio River, sweeping everything before him. This dream came near being realized. It was made possible by the efforts and deeds of two men, General John H. Morgan and General N. B. Forrest. These two great raiders and leaders of cavalry nearly turned the scale in favor of the Confederacy. They raided the rear of the Federal army, tore up railroads, destroyed millions of dollars’ worth of property, and captured thousands of prisoners. They ran General Buell nearly distracted, and caused him not to know which way to turn. They made it possible for General Bragg to reach Kentucky unopposed; and if, after reaching Kentucky, General Bragg had proved as able a leader of infantry as Morgan was of cavalry, Buell’s army would have been destroyed. While Bragg was organizing his army at Chattanooga, another Confederate army was being organized at Knoxville under General E. Kirby Smith; this army was to invade Kentucky by way of East Tennessee, while General Bragg was to invade by way of Middle Tennessee. Once in Kentucky, the two armies were to unite.

This programme was successfully carried out, and yet the whole movement was a failure, as far as the occupancy of Kentucky was concerned.

After the fall of Corinth, Colonel Morgan rendezvoused his little force at Chattanooga. From Chattanooga he proceeded to Knoxville, where he at once began the preparations for another raid. As Cumberland Gap was held by the Federals, Colonel Morgan decided to cross over into Middle Tennessee before invading Kentucky. His command consisted of about nine hundred men, made up of two regiments and two independent companies. His own regiment was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Basil Duke. All through Morgan’s career Colonel Duke was his chief adviser, so much so that many claim that Morgan’s success was mainly due to Colonel Duke.

“Why don’t some one shoot Basil Duke through the head, and blow out John Morgan’s brains?” exclaimed a disgusted Federal officer, after a fruitless effort to catch Morgan.

But the officer was mistaken; both had brains. Like Grant and Sherman they worked hand in hand, and one needed the other. Together they were invincible.

Before leaving Knoxville Morgan picked out twenty-five men, mounted on the best and fleetest horses, and placed them in the command of Calhoun Pennington. They were to be the scouts of the command, and well did they do their duty. More than once did they save Morgan from heavy loss by ascertaining the movements of the enemy.

Morgan left Knoxville July 4th. His route lay directly west over the Cumberland Mountains to Sparta, a distance of one hundred and four miles. This, in spite of the rough roads, he made in three days. Many of the mountaineers of East Tennessee clung to the Union, and much of the way he had to ride through almost as hostile a country as if raiding through the North. The utmost vigilance had to be used, and Calhoun, with his scouts, was kept well in front to see that the road was clear.

On the second day’s march there was the crack of a rifle from a mountainside, and one of the scouts tumbled from his horse dead. A little cloud of smoke up the mountain showed from where the shot was fired. With a cry of rage the scouts sent a volley where the little cloud was seen, then springing from their horses, clambered up the mountain to hunt down the murderer; but their search was fruitless.

About a mile beyond where the shooting took place they came to a rough log cabin, surrounded by a few acres of comparatively smooth ground. A small patch of corn and potatoes was growing near the cabin, and an old man with tangled gray hair and beard was hoeing in the field. An old woman sat in the door calmly smoking a corn-cob pipe. Neither seemed to notice the soldiers as they came riding up.

“You, man, come here!” sternly called Calhoun.

The mountaineer deliberately laid down his hoe, and slowly came to where Calhoun was. He seemed to be in no hurry, nor did he appear to be disturbed.

“What is your name?” demanded Calhoun.

“Nichols – Jim Nichols,” drawled the man.

“Are you well acquainted around here?” demanded Calhoun.

“Hev lived heah goin’ on twenty years,” was the answer.

“We have just had a man shot, by one of you skulking mountaineers. Do you know of any one likely to do such a deed? Tell the truth, or it will be the worse for you.”

The old man shook his head. “The men be all gone in one army or de other,” he answered.

“Are you Union or Confederate?” asked Calhoun.

“The wah is nuthin’ to we-uns,” he drawled; “we-uns own no niggers.”

“That’s no answer,” fiercely replied Calhoun, “I have a mind to hang you up like a dog. A little stretching of the neck might loosen your tongue.”

At the word “hang” a strange look came into the old man’s eyes, a look as of mortal hatred, but it was gone in a moment, and the drawling answer came, “We-uns knows nuthin’; thar may be strange men hidin’ in the mountin. We-uns don’t know.”

“Have you a family?”

“A gal.”

“Where is she?”

“Done gone over the mountin to see the Jimson gals.”

“You have no son?”

At the word “son,” again that deadly glint came in the old man’s eye. Again it was gone in a moment, and the answer came, “No.”

The cabin was searched – the mountaineer and his wife apparently perfectly unconcerned as to what was going on – but nothing suspicious was found, and Calhoun had to confess himself baffled. But after Morgan’s column had passed, a tall, lank girl with unkempt hair might have been seen coming down the mountainside, carrying a long rifle in her hand. Swiftly and surely as a deer she leaped from rock to rock, and soon neared the cabin. Carefully concealing her rifle beneath a huge rock, she came slowly up to the door of the cabin, where the old man sat smoking. He looked up at her, inquiringly, but did not say a word.

“We-uns got one, dad,” she said, as she passed in. Not another word was spoken, but the old man sat and smoked and watched the sun as it slowly sunk to rest behind the mountain.

If Calhoun had known that Nichol’s only son had been hanged the winter before by the Confederate authorities for bridge-burning, and that his sister had sworn revenge, he would not have been at a loss as to who had fired the deadly shot, for every mountain girl can use a rifle.

From Sparta Morgan made a rapid march to Selina, where he forded the Cumberland River. At Selina he learned that there was a Federal force at Tompkinsville, which is just over the line in Kentucky. By a swift advance he hoped to surprise and capture this force. As the command crossed the line from Tennessee into Kentucky, the enthusiasm of the men knew no bounds. They sang “My Old Kentucky Home,” and cheered again and again.

Tompkinsville was reached at five o’clock on the morning of the 9th of July. The Federals, under the command of Major Thomas J. Jordan, of the Ninth Pennsylvania Cavalry, though surprised, made a stand, and the battle at once opened. But a few shots from Morgan’s mountain howitzers utterly demoralized the Federals, and they fled in confusion.

Major Jordan, after retreating about a mile, succeeded in rallying about seventy-five of his men, and made a stand to cover the retreat of his force. Calhoun, with some fifteen of his scouts far in advance of the main column, charged down on them without hesitating a moment. The Federals, although they outnumbered the scouts five to one, were ridden down, and throwing down their arms they cried for mercy.

In this fight the gallant Colonel Hunt was mortally wounded. He was one of Morgan’s best officers, and his loss was deeply mourned.

From Tompkinsville Morgan moved to Glasgow, arriving there at one o’clock in the morning.

The Federal garrison had heard of his approach, and had fled, leaving everything behind them. A large quantity of military stores fell into Morgan’s hands, and was destroyed.

Although it was in the middle of the night, the glad news spread through the town, and the citizens were hailing each other with the glad shout, “Morgan has come again! Morgan has come again!” Soon from every house lights were flashing, and every woman was engaged in cooking. When morning came, not only a steaming hot breakfast of the best that the place afforded was set before the men, but three days’ cooked rations were given each man.

At Glasgow Morgan gave out that he was again to raid the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. In order to carry out the deception, when he left Glasgow he followed the road which would lead him to strike the railroad in between Woodsonville and Mumfordsville; but when he was within a few miles of the road, he halted his command, and taking only Calhoun and his scouts, he struck the road at a lonely place a short distance from Horse Cove. Here he had his telegraph operator, a sharp young fellow named Ellsworth, attach his private instrument to the telegraph wire, and for two hours Ellsworth, in the midst of a driving storm and standing in water up to his knees, took every message that passed over the wire. It was rare fun to hear the Federal officers telling all their secrets, and revealing the terror they were in over Morgan’s raid. After listening to their plans of how they would try to capture him, Morgan had Ellsworth send the following dispatch to the provost marshal at Louisville:

Nashville, Tenn., July 10, 1862.

General Forrest, commanding brigade, attacked Murfreesboro, routing our forces, and is now moving on Nashville. Morgan is reported to be between Scottsville and Gallatin, and will act in concert with Forrest, it is believed. Inform general commanding.

Stanley Mathews,

Provost Marshal.

Morgan sent this dispatch to lead the Federal authorities to believe that he was returning from Kentucky. But the strange part of it is that Forrest did on that very day attack and capture Murfreesboro, and of this fact Morgan was entirely ignorant.

Leaving the telegraph and railroad intact, so as to have the Federals remain in ignorance of what he had done and where he was, Morgan rejoined his command and set out for Lebanon, a ride of over forty miles. The place fell, almost without struggle. Dashing in at the head of his scouts, Calhoun took possession of the telegraph office. This was at three o’clock in the morning. Unsuspicious of danger the regular telegraph operator was at home asleep, and Ellsworth was once more installed at the instrument.

It seemed that the day before Colonel Johnson, commanding the place, had telegraphed for reinforcements, saying he feared an attack. The first dispatch that Ellsworth received was:

“What news? Any more skirmishing?”

To which Ellsworth answered: “No, we drove what few cavalry there were away.”

The next was: “Has the train arrived yet?”

“No. How many troops on train?” asked Ellsworth.

“About five hundred,” was the answer.

This was what Morgan wanted to know, and he at once dispatched a column to intercept the train. But the train scented danger, and backed with all speed toward Louisville.

At Lebanon immense stores fell into Morgan’s hands. Two large warehouses filled to overflowing with clothing, rations, and the munitions of war were given to the flames. Five thousand stand of arms were among the trophies; Morgan picked out the best of these to arm his men.

The destruction of Federal property being complete, Morgan started north, going through Springfield and Mackville to Harrodsburg. Here he met with a most enthusiastic reception. Nothing was too good for Morgan’s men.

While at Harrodsburg Calhoun greatly wished that Morgan would make a detour and visit Danville, but this Morgan refused to do, as it would take him too far out of his route and give the Federals time to concentrate against him. Thus Calhoun was prevented from entering his native town in triumph.

Morgan had caused the report to be circulated far and near that he had a force of five thousand and that his object was the capture of Frankfort. From Harrodsburg he moved to Midway on the line of the Louisville and Lexington Railroad. The place was about equidistant from Frankfort and Lexington, and from it either place could be equally threatened.

Here he once more took possession of the telegraph office, and Ellsworth was once more busy in sending telegrams. In the names of the different Federal officers Morgan telegraphed right and left, ordering the Federal troops here and there, everywhere but to the right place, and causing the utmost confusion. The poor Federals were at their wits’ end; they knew not what to do, or which way to turn. The whole state was in terror. The name of Morgan was on every tongue; his force was magnified fivefold. General Boyle, in command of the Department of Kentucky, was deluged with telegrams imploring assistance. He in turn deluged General Halleck, General Buell, and even President Lincoln. “Send me troops, or Kentucky is lost. John Morgan will have it,” he said.