Читать книгу: «Raiding with Morgan», страница 5
Lincoln telegraphed to Halleck at Corinth: “They are having a stampede in Kentucky. Please look to it.”
Buell telegraphed: “I can do nothing. Have no men I can send.” Thus Kentucky was left to her fears. Never did a thousand men create a greater panic.
From Midway Colonel Morgan made a strong demonstration toward Frankfort, strengthening the belief that he was to attack that place, but his real object was the capture of Lexington.
Calhoun, with his men, scouted clear up to the outskirts of the place, driving in the Federal outposts; but he learned that the city was garrisoned by at least five times the number of Morgan’s men. This fact he reported to his chief, who saw that it would be madness to attempt to capture it. Morgan therefore resolved to swing clear around Lexington, thoroughly breaking the railroad which led from that place to Cincinnati, so he gave orders to start for Paris. But he was unexpectedly delayed for a day at Midway by an unfortunate incident, the capture of Calhoun and one of his men by the Home Guards.
CHAPTER VI.
CAPTURED BY HOME GUARDS
All through Kentucky during the war there were companies of troops known as Home Guards. They were in reality the militia of the state. They in many instances rendered valuable services, and did much to keep Kentucky in the Union. If it had not been for them, the Federal government would have been obliged to keep twice as many troops in the state as it did. Not being under as strict discipline as the United States troops, they were more dreaded by the Southern element than the regular army.
These Home Guards were very bitter, and lost no opportunity of harassing those who clung to the cause of the South. Now and then there were bands of these Guards that were nothing but bands of guerrillas who lived by plundering, and they were frequently guilty of the most cold-blooded murders. It was by such a band that Calhoun was captured. He had been scouting toward Frankfort to see if the Federals were moving any considerable body of troops from that place to attack Morgan. He found them so frightened that they were not thinking of attacking Morgan; they were bending every nerve to defend the city from an expected attack by him. He was on his way back with the news that there was no danger from the direction of Frankfort, when he was told that a band of Home Guards, that were in fact a set of robbers, had their haunts in the rough, hilly country to the south of him, and he determined to try to effect their capture. After riding several miles, and hearing nothing of them, he ordered a return to Midway.
The day was very hot, and coming to a cross-road, where several trees cast their grateful shade and a little brook ran babbling by, he ordered his men to halt and rest. The shade and the water were very acceptable to both man and beast; dismounting, the men lay sprawling around in the shade. Seeing a house standing on an eminence up the cross-road, Calhoun decided to take one of his soldiers named Nevels, and ride up to it to see if he could learn anything.
“Better let us all go, there is no telling what one may run into in this country,” said a sergeant named Graham, who in the absence of Calhoun would be in command of the little company.
“No, Graham,” answered Calhoun, “both men and horses are tired, and need the little rest they are getting. I do not think there is any danger. If I see anything suspicious, I will signal to you.” With these words Calhoun with his companion rode away.
“There he goes as careless as if there was not an enemy within forty miles,” said Graham, looking after them, and shaking his head. “I tell you the Lieutenant will get into trouble some of these days. He is altogether too rash; never thinks of danger.”
“Don’t worry about the Lieutenant,” lazily replied one of the men; “he never gets into a scrape without getting out of it. He is a good one, he is.”
The Sergeant did not answer, but stood earnestly gazing after his chief, who by this time was about a quarter of a mile away. Here Calhoun and Nevels descended into a depression, which for a moment would hide them from the watchful eyes of the Sergeant.
As Calhoun entered this depression, he noticed that a thick growth of underbrush came up close to the side of the road, affording a splendid place for concealment. For a moment a feeling as of unseen danger came over him, but nothing suspicious could be seen or heard, and dismissing the thought, he rode forward. Suddenly Calhoun’s horse stopped and pricked up his ears.
“What’s the matter, Selim? What do you see?” exclaimed Calhoun, as he gently touched him with the spur.
The horse sprang forward, but had gone but a few yards, when as suddenly as if they had arisen out of the ground, a dozen men, with levelled guns, arose by the side of the road, and demanded their surrender. Desperate as the chance was, Calhoun wheeled his horse to flee, when before him stood a dozen more men; his retreat was cut off.
“Surrender, or you are dead men,” cried the leader. Calhoun saw they were surrounded by at least twenty-five men, and a most villainous-looking set they were. There was no help for it. To refuse to surrender meant instant death, and Calhoun and Nevels yielded as gracefully as possible.
The Sergeant stood still looking up the road waiting for them to appear, when he caught sight of the head of a man, then of another, and another.
“Boys,” he shouted, excitedly, “something is wrong; the Lieutenant is in trouble.”
The little squad sprang to their horses, and without thinking of danger, or what force they would meet, rode to the rescue, the Sergeant in the lead. But when they neared the place, they were met with a volley which brought three of the horses down and seriously wounded two of the men.
“Forward!” shouted the Sergeant, staggering to his feet, and holding his wounded arm, from which the blood was streaming.
But another volley brought down two more of the horses, and the Sergeant seeing they were outnumbered more than two to one, ordered a halt, and made preparations to resist a charge, which he thought would surely come. No charge came, and all was silent in front. The Sergeant ordered an advance, but no enemy was found. They had silently decamped and left no trace behind, and had taken Calhoun and Nevels with them.
Crippled as they were, and the Sergeant suffering terribly from his wound, it was decided it would be madness to pursue with their small force. So one of the men on a swift horse was sent to carry the news to Morgan, while the others followed more leisurely.
When the news reached camp, the greatest excitement prevailed, and every man in the command clamored to be sent to the rescue. Colonel Morgan chose Captain Huffman, who, with thirty of his famous Texan rangers, was soon galloping to the scene of the encounter, under the guidance of the courier who had brought the news. On the way they met Calhoun’s little squad sorrowfully returning. Not a man but begged to be allowed to go with the rescuing party, but this, on account of the tired condition of their horses, and on account of the two wounded men, had to be refused.
It was well along in the afternoon when the theatre of the encounter was reached. Captain Huffman had with him three or four men who for years had been accustomed to Indian fighting in Texas; these men took up the trail and followed it like bloodhounds. After going three or four miles, the advance ran into two men, who sought safety by running into the woods; but a shot in the leg brought one of them down, and he was captured. At first he denied knowing anything of the affair, saying he had heard nothing of a fight. But when Captain Huffman ordered a rope to be brought and it was placed around his neck, he begged piteously, saying that if they would spare his life he would tell them all he knew. And this is what he told them:
He belonged to a band led by a man known as “Red Bill” from his florid complexion. It was this band that had captured Calhoun and Nevels. It seemed that the officer whom they had captured had known Red Bill in Danville, and taunted him with being a chicken-thief. This so angered Red Bill that he determined to hang the officer. This resulted in a quarrel among the members of the band, many of whom had become tired of the leadership of Red Bill, being fearful that his crimes would bring retribution on their heads. At last it was agreed that the band would disperse, Red Bill, on the promise that he might have the two horses captured, agreeing to deliver the two prisoners to the Federal commander at Frankfort.
“But,” added the prisoner, whose name was Evans, “I doubt if they ever reach Frankfort. I reckon Red Bill will find some means of getting rid of them before he gets there.”
Captain Huffman listened to this story with horror. “If this miscreant makes way with Lieutenant Pennington and Nevels, I will hunt him to his death, if it takes ten years,” he declared. Then turning to Evans, he asked: “Did any of the gang side with Red Bill?”
“Yes, five of them did, and stayed with him,” was the answer.
“And you men, at least twenty of you, by your own story, coolly left our men to be foully murdered?” furiously demanded Captain Huffman.
The prisoner hung his head, but did not answer.
“Answer!” thundered Huffman.
“Red Bill promised to take them to Frankfort,” he at length managed to say.
“And you have just admitted that his promise was worth nothing. Where did this thing occur? Where did you leave Red Bill and his prisoners?” demanded Huffman.
“About three miles from here,” answered Evans.
“Lead us to the place at once.”
“I dare not,” he whimpered; “Red Bill will kill me if I give away the place of rendezvous. We are under a terrible oath not to reveal it.”
“You need not fear Red Bill,” answered Captain Huffman, in ominous tones, “for I am going to hang you. Boys, bring the rope.”
“Mercy! Mercy!” gasped the shivering wretch.
“Then lead us to the place where you left Red Bill, and that quickly.”
“My wound,” he whined, pointing to his leg.
“Bind up his leg,” said Huffman to one of his men.
The wound was rudely dressed, and then Evans was placed on a horse in front of a sturdy trooper.
“Now take us to the place where you left Red Bill, by the shortest and quickest route; you say it is three miles. If we don’t reach it in half an hour, I will hang you like a dog. And,” continued Huffman, to the trooper in front of whom Evans was riding, “blow out his brains at the first sign of treachery.”
For answer the trooper touched his revolver significantly.
After riding swiftly for about two miles, Evans bade them turn into a path which led into the woods. The way became rough and rocky, and their progress was necessarily slower. Evans was in mortal terror lest the half-hour would be up before they could reach the place.
“It is right down thar,” he at length said, pointing down a ravine which led to a stream.
The place was admirably adapted for concealment. On a small level place surrounded by high cliffs stood a tumble-down house. It was shut in from view from every point except the single one on which they stood.
“Leave the horses here,” whispered Huffman, “I think I caught sight of some one down there. We will creep up on them unawares.”
Leaving the horses in charge of ten men, Captain Huffman, with the rest of his force, silently crept down the gorge.
We will now turn to Calhoun. After he was captured and heard his men cheering as they made the charge, his heart stood still, for he expected they would all be killed. He was, therefore, greatly surprised when the firing ceased, and his captors came running back, and hurried him through the woods at a break-neck speed. The rapid pace was kept up for about three miles, when finding they were not pursued, they adopted a more leisurely gait. Of this Calhoun was glad, for he was entirely out of breath. The leader of the gang, and another, probably the second in command, had appropriated the horses, and Calhoun and Nevels had been forced to walk, or rather run.
Once Calhoun ventured to ask the result of the fight, and was told that all of his men had been killed. This he knew to be a lie, as his captors would not have retreated so hastily if they had achieved so sweeping a victory. He asked another question, but was roughly told to shut up.
When the rendezvous was reached Red Bill for the first time noticed his prisoners closely. He started when he saw Calhoun, and then turning to his gang, said, “I reckon we had better string these fellows up, and get them out of the way.”
“String us up,” boldly answered Calhoun, “and I would not give a cent for your worthless lives; Morgan would never rest, as long as one of you encumbered the earth.”
“Who is afraid of Morgan!” exclaimed Red Bill, with an oath. “He and the rest of you are nuthin’ but hoss-thieves an’ yo’ will all hang one of these days. I know yo’, my young rooster, you air the son of that ole Rebil, Judge Pennington of Danville. I hev it in fur him.”
“And I know you now,” hotly replied Calhoun, forgetting the danger he was in. “You used to live in Danville, and went by the name of Red Bill. Your popularity consisted in the fact that you were known as an adept chicken-thief. My father once sent you to jail for petit larceny.”
Bill’s face grew still redder. “Yo’ lie, yo’ dog!” he hissed. “Yo’ father did send me to jail, but I war innocent, an’ he knowed it. But he thought I war only po’ white trash, while he is an aristocrat. I swore to hev my revenge, an’ I will hev it. Boys, what do we-uns do with hoss-thieves in ole Kentuck?”
“Hang ’em,” exclaimed four or five voices.
“An’ we-uns will hang this crowin’ bantam. I will learn him to call me a chicken-thief, classin’ me with niggers!” exclaimed Red Bill, with fury.
“What will we-uns do with the other feller?” asked one of the men.
“Hang him too. Dead men don’t talk.”
But some of the gang began to demur over this summary proceeding, saying that the Federal authorities would deal severely with them if it became known they murdered prisoners in cold blood. Not only this, but Morgan had captured hundreds of Home Guards and paroled them. But if they should execute one of his prominent officers, he would show no mercy.
The discussion became so hot, they came nearly fighting among themselves. At last one of them said, “I am tired of the hull business. I am goin’ home.”
“An’ I!” “An’ I!” cried a dozen voices.
It was finally agreed that the gang should disband, only five agreeing to remain with Red Bill. Being allowed to keep the plunder and horses they had captured, these men, with Red Bill, promised to deliver Calhoun and Nevels to the Federal authorities at Frankfort, unharmed.
Calhoun and Nevels had watched this quarrel among their captors with the utmost anxiety, knowing that upon the result depended their lives. It was with the deepest concern that they beheld the members of the party depart, leaving them with Red Bill and his five boon companions.
No sooner were they alone than the six, with oaths and jeers, tied their prisoners securely to trees, drawing the cords so closely that they cut into the flesh. Although the pain was terrible, neither Calhoun nor Nevels uttered a moan. After the prisoners were thus securely tied, Red Bill produced a bottle of whisky, and the six commenced drinking, apparently taking no notice of their captives. The whole six were soon fiendishly drunk.
Staggering up to Calhoun, Red Bill growled: “Think we-uns goin’ to take you to Frankfort, I reckin’.”
“That is what you promised,” replied Calhoun, calmly.
“Well, we-uns ain’t. We-uns goin’ to hang ye!”
Calhoun turned pale, then controlling himself by a powerful effort, he replied: “Do the Home Guards of Kentucky violate every principle of honorable warfare?”
“Damn honorable warfare! Yo-uns called me a chicken-thief; I call you a hoss-thief. Hoss-thieves air hanged. Ha! ha! the son of Judge Pennington strung up fo’ stealin’ hosses! Won’t that sound nice?” and he burst into a devilish laugh, in which he was joined by the others.
Calhoun saw there was no hope. It was hard to die such an ignominious death. “Oh!” he thought, “if I had only been permitted to die amid the flame and smoke of battle. Such a death is glorious; but this – ” A great lump arose in his throat, and came near choking him.
Gulping it back, he whispered to Nevels: “Don’t show the white feather. Let them see how Morgan’s men can die.”
The brave fellow nodded; he could not speak. He had a wife and child at home.
They were unbound from the tree, but their arms and limbs were kept tightly pinioned. Ropes were brought and tied around their necks, and the free ends thrown over a limb of the tree.
“Can ye tie a true hangman’s knot, Jack?” asked Red of the villain who was adjusting the rope around Calhoun’s neck.
“That I can, Red,” he answered, with a chuckling laugh. “It’s as neat a job as eny sheriff can do.”
The sun had just sunk to rest; the gloom of night was settling over the forest. Calhoun saw the shadows thicken among the trees. The darkness of death would soon be upon him.
“String ’em up!” shouted Red.
Just then the solemn hoot of a distant owl was heard. One of the men holding the rope dropped it, and shivered from head to foot.
“Boys,” he whispered, “let’s don’t do it. That’s a note of warning. I never knew it to fail.”
“Cuss ye fo’ a white-livered coward!” yelled Red Bill. “String them up, I tell ye!”
For answer there came the sharp crack of rifles, the rush of armed men, and the infuriated Texans were on them. No mercy was shown; in a moment it was all over.
Quickly the cords which bound Calhoun and Nevels were cut, and the terrible nooses removed from their necks. “Thank God, we were in time!” cried Captain Huffman, wringing Calhoun’s hand.
But Calhoun stood as one in a trance. So sudden had been his deliverance, he could not realize it. He had nerved himself to die, and now that he was safe, he felt sick and faint, and would have fallen if he had not been supported. Both he and Nevels soon rallied, and poured out their thanks to the brave men who had come to their rescue.
“We would never have found you,” said Huffman, “if we had not run on one of the gang who under the threat of death piloted us here.”
“Where is he?” asked Calhoun.
“With the boys up with the horses.”
“Let him go,” pleaded Calhoun; “but for him I would now have been food for the buzzards.”
“To which we will leave these carrion,” answered Huffman, pointing to the dead Home Guards. “But we must be going; Morgan is impatient to be on the road.”
Great was the rejoicing in Morgan’s command when Captain Huffman returned bringing Calhoun and Nevels safe; and much satisfaction was expressed over the fate of their captors. In half an hour after the return of Captain Huffman’s command, Morgan’s men were en route for Paris.
CHAPTER VII.
CALHOUN TAKES FRED PRISONER
After leaving Midway, Morgan did not march directly to Paris, but halted at Georgetown, a little city twelve miles north of Lexington. The citizens of Georgetown gave Morgan’s command the same joyous welcome which they had received at almost every place visited; for Morgan came to them not as an enemy, but as a liberator.
From Georgetown Morgan resolved to attack Cynthiana, which lies north of Paris, having heard there was a considerable body of Federal troops stationed there. Sending a small force toward Lexington to keep up the fiction of an attack upon that place, Morgan moved with the main body of his force upon Cynthiana.
Here was fought the fiercest battle that Morgan was engaged in during his raid. Cynthiana was held by Colonel John J. Landram of the Eighteenth Kentucky. He had under him about four hundred men, mostly Home Guards and raw recruits. Landram put up a most gallant defence, and the battle raged for an hour and a half with the greatest fury. It was at last decided by a furious charge made by Major Evans at the head of his Texas rangers. The entire force of Colonel Landram was killed, wounded, and taken prisoners. Colonel Morgan lamented the loss of some forty of his bravest men. Calhoun was not in this fight, having been sent with his scouts toward Lexington to watch the movements of the enemy.
From Cynthiana, Morgan moved on Paris, and the place surrendered without a shot being fired. Some twenty-five miles of the Cincinnati and Lexington railroad was now in Morgan’s possession, and he proceeded to destroy it as thoroughly as his limited time admitted. But he was being encompassed by his enemies. A large force was moving on him from Frankfort; another from Lexington. Calhoun with his faithful scouts kept him fully informed of these movements.
Just in time to elude General Green Clay Smith’s forces from Lexington, he marched for Winchester. His next move was to Richmond. This left all the pursuing forces in the rear. The celerity of Morgan’s movements, the marvellous endurance of his men, astonished and confounded his enemies.
At Richmond, Morgan decided to make a stand and give battle to his pursuers; but Calhoun brought word that at least five thousand Federals were closing in on him. To give battle to such a number would have been madness, so he marched for Crab Orchard. On the march Calhoun made a detour toward Danville so as to visit the plantation of his uncle, Colonel Richard Shackelford. He was also in hopes of meeting his cousin Fred. He had heard how Fred had interceded for his father, keeping him from being sent to a Northern prison, and he wished to thank him. He was ashamed of the hatred he had felt toward him, and resolved to make amends for it.
His arrival was a genuine surprise, but to his consternation Fred presented himself in the uniform of a captain of the Federal army. His men clamored to take Fred prisoner, but just as Calhoun had succeeded in quieting them, to his dismay Captain Conway came galloping upon the scene at the head of his company. He had obtained permission from Morgan to scout toward Danville. His real object was to capture Fred, who he knew was at home. Once in his hands, he hoped to convict him as a spy. His plan was frustrated by the bold stand taken by Colonel Shackelford, who delivered Fred as a prisoner to Calhoun with instructions to take him to Morgan. This Calhoun did, and Morgan at once paroled him, although Conway tried his best to have him held as a spy. Morgan not only paroled Fred, but let him return with the horse he had ridden, although many of the men looked on the splendid animal with envious eyes. But Morgan would not hear of their taking a horse which belonged to his old friend, Colonel Shackelford.
“Why didn’t you ride that horse of yours?” asked Captain Mathews of Fred, alluding to Fred’s famous horse, Prince.
“Afraid you might keep him,” laughed Fred; “you are a good judge of a horse, Captain.”
“Right you are,” responded Mathews; “I am sorry I didn’t think of that horse when we were at Richmond. I would have visited you with my friend Conway, and taken the horse. Think I will have to return for him yet.”
Fred thought little of what Mathews said, but that very night Mathews dispatched two of his men back in disguise to steal Fred’s horse.
From Crab Orchard Morgan marched to Somerset, surprising the place, and capturing a large wagon-train. It was also a depot for army supplies, all of which Morgan gave to the torch. Here he again took possession of the telegraph office, and enlightened the Federals as to his movements.
At Somerset Morgan’s raid was practically at an end. There were no Federal troops in front of him; his pursuers were a day behind. After he had completed the destruction of all the United States property in the place, and was ready to leave, he caused the following dispatches to be sent:
Somerset, Ky., July 22, 1862.George D. Prentice, Louisville, Ky.
Good morning, George D. I am quietly watching the complete destruction of all of Uncle Sam’s property in this little burg. I regret exceedingly that this is the last that comes under my supervision on this route. I expect in a short time to pay you a visit, and wish to know if you will be at home. All well in Dixie.
John H. Morgan,Commanding Brigade.
Somerset, Ky., July 22, 1862.General J. T. Boyle, Louisville, Ky.
Good morning, Jerry! This telegraph is a great institution. You should destroy it, as it keeps me too well posted. My friend Ellsworth has all of your dispatches since July 10 on file. Do you wish copies?
John H. Morgan,Commanding Brigade.
Somerset, Ky., July 22, 1862.Hon. George Dunlap, Washington, D. C.
Just completed my tour through Kentucky. Captured sixteen cities, destroyed millions of dollars of United States property. Passed through your county, but regret not seeing you. We paroled fifteen hundred Federal prisoners. Your old friend,
John H. Morgan,Commanding Brigade.
The feelings of the above gentlemen as they received these telegrams can better be imagined than described. The one to General Boyle must have cut him to the quick as he read it. To know how completely Morgan had outwitted him was like gall and wormwood to him.
From Somerset Morgan halted his command at Livingston, Tennessee, to take a much-needed rest. Never did men need it more. They had accomplished one of the most astonishing feats in the annals of American warfare. No wonder the name of Morgan struck terror to the hearts of the Federals. Morgan in his report of his raid sums it up as follows:
“I left Knoxville on the 4th day of this month with about nine hundred men, and returned to Livingston on the 28th instant with nearly twelve hundred, having been absent just twenty-four days, during which time I travelled over one thousand miles, captured seventeen towns, destroyed all the government property and arms in them, dispersed about fifteen hundred Home Guards, and paroled nearly twelve hundred regular troops. I lost in killed, wounded, and missing of the number I carried into Kentucky, about ninety.”
