Raiding with Morgan Part 2

At last all was ready, and amid shouts of "Good-bye" and "Success to you,"

Calhoun vaulted into the saddle and rode away eastward.

CHAPTER II.

THROUGH THE LINES.

At the time Calhoun started for Kentucky, General Halleck was concentrating his immense army at Pittsburg Landing, preparatory to an attack on Corinth. Federal gunboats patrolled the Tennessee River as far up as Eastport. General Mitch.e.l.l held the Memphis and Charleston Railroad between Decatur and Stevenson, but between Corinth and Decatur there was no large body of Federals, and the country was open to excursions of Confederate cavalry. In Middle Tennessee every important place was held by detachments of Federal troops. To attempt to ride through the lines was an exceedingly dangerous undertaking, but that is what Calhoun had to do to reach Kentucky. He expected to meet with little danger until he attempted to cross the lines of General Mitch.e.l.l, which extended along the railroads that ran from Nashville southward. The country through which he had to pa.s.s was intensely Southern, and the Yankee cavalry did not venture far from the railroads.

When Calhoun left Corinth, he rode straight eastward, until he reached Tusc.u.mbia, Alabama. Here he found little trouble in finding means to cross the Tennessee River. Once across the river he took a northeast course, which would take him through Rogersville. Now and then he met small squads of Confederate cavalry. They were scouting through the country, and did not seem to be under very strict military discipline, doing much as they pleased.

Now and then he came across a party of recruits making their way to the Confederate army at Corinth. They were mostly country boys, rough, uncouth, and with little or no education. They knew or cared little of the causes which had led up to the war; but they knew that the Southland had been invaded, that their homes were in danger, and they made soldiers whose bravery and devotion excited the admiration of the world.

In order to find out what General Mitch.e.l.l was doing, and as nearly as he could, to ascertain the number of his forces, Calhoun resolved to ride as near the line of the Nashville and Decatur railroad as was prudent. As he approached Rogersville, he learned that the place had just been raided by a regiment of Yankee cavalry, and the country was in a panic.

Approaching the place cautiously, he was pleased to ascertain that the cavalry, after committing numerous depredations, had retreated to Athens.

He now learned for the first time of the atrocities which had been committed on the defenceless inhabitants of Athens, and his blood boiled as he listened to the recital. No wonder the citizens of Rogersville were in a panic, fearing that their fate might be the same.

"The whelps and robbers!" he exclaimed; "how I should like to get at them!

But their time will come. Never will the South lay down her arms until every Northern soldier is driven in or across the Ohio."

In Rogersville Calhoun met with a Doctor Jenkins, who was especially well informed as to the strength and positions of the Federal army, and as to the feelings of the citizens.

"At first," said he, "the result of the battle of s.h.i.+loh greatly discouraged us, and the slaughter was horrifying. But we are getting over that now, and every true son of the South is more determined than ever to fight the war to the bitter end, even if we see our homes in flames and the country laid waste. How is it that Kentucky does not join hands with her sister states?"

"She will, she must," cried Calhoun. "Already thousands of her sons are flocking to the Southern standard. It needs but a victory-a Confederate army to enter her territory, and the people will rise _en ma.s.se_. There are not enough traitors or Yankees in the state to keep them down."

"Do you think Beauregard can hold Corinth?" asked the Doctor.

"He can if any one can. He is a great general," answered Calhoun. "But Morgan thinks the loss of Corinth would not be fatal if the army were saved. 'Under no consideration,' says Morgan, 'should Beauregard allow himself to be cooped up in Corinth.' "

"I reckon he is right," sighed the Doctor; "but may the time never come when he will have to give it up."

"Amen to that!" answered Calhoun.

From Rogersville Calhoun made his way north. He ascertained that the railroad which Mitch.e.l.l was engaged in repairing was not strongly guarded, and he believed that with five hundred men Morgan could break it almost anywhere between Athens and Columbia.

Near Mount Pleasant he met a Confederate officer with a party of recruits which he was taking south. He sent back by him a statement to Morgan of all he had learned, and added: "Taking everything into consideration, I believe that Pulaski will be the best place for you to strike. I have no fears but that you can capture it, even with your small force."

Calhoun met with his first serious adventure shortly after he had crossed the railroad, which he did a few miles south of Columbia. Thinking to make better time, he took the main road leading to Shelbyville. He was discovered by a squad of Federal cavalry, which immediately gave chase.

But he was mounted on a splendid horse, one that he had brought with him from Kentucky. He easily distanced all his pursuers with the exception of three or four, and he was gradually drawing away from all of them, except a lieutenant in command of the squad, who seemed to be as well mounted as himself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE EASILY DISTANCED ALL HIS PURSUERS.]

"Only one," muttered Calhoun, looking back, as a pistol-ball whistled by his head; "I can settle him," and he reached for a revolver in his holster. As he did so, his horse stepped into a hole and plunged heavily forward, throwing Calhoun over his head. For a moment he lay bruised and stunned, and then staggered to his feet, only to find the Federal officer upon him.

"Surrender, you Rebel!" cried the officer, but quick as a flash, Calhoun s.n.a.t.c.hed a small revolver which he carried in his belt, and fired.

Instead of hitting the officer, the ball struck the horse fairly in the head, and the animal fell dead. Leaving the officer struggling to extricate himself from his fallen horse, Calhoun scrambled over a fence, and scurried across a small field, beyond which was a wood. A scattering volley was fired by the foremost of the pursuers, but it did no harm, and Calhoun was soon across the field. Mounting the fence on the other side, he stood on the top rail, and turning around, he uttered a shout of defiance, then jumping down, disappeared in the wood.

The foremost of the Federals, a tall, lanky sergeant named Latham, galloped to the side of his commander, who was still struggling to extricate himself from his fallen horse. Springing from his saddle, he helped him to his feet, and anxiously inquired, "Are you hurt, Lieutenant?"

"The Rebel, the Rebel, where is he? Did you get him?" asked the Lieutenant.

"Get him!" drawled the Sergeant, "I think not. He got across that field as if Old Nick was after him. But once across he had the cheek to stand on the fence and crow like a young rooster. I took a crack at him, but missed."

"Why didn't you pursue him?" demanded the officer, fiercely.

"What! in those woods? Might as well look for a needle in a haymow. But are you hurt, Lieutenant?"

"My leg is sprained," he groaned; "but the worst of it is, Jupiter is dead. Curse that Rebel! how I wish I had him! I would make him pay dearly for that horse."

"Here is the Rebel's horse. I caught him!" exclaimed one of the men, leading up Calhoun's horse, which he had captured. "He looks like a mighty fine horse, only he seems a little lame from his fall."

"That is a fine horse," said Latham, looking him over, "but he has been rode mighty hard. Wonder who that feller can be. I see no signs of any other Reb. He must have been alone. Say, he was a Jim-dandy whoever he was. I thought you had him sure, Lieutenant."

"So did I," answered the Lieutenant, with an oath. "When his horse threw him I had no idea he would try to get away, and ordered him to surrender.

But quick as a flash he jerked a revolver from his belt, and fired."

"Better be thankful he hit the horse instead of you," said the Sergeant.

For answer the Lieutenant limped to a stone, and sitting down, said: "Examine that roll behind the saddle of the horse. Perhaps we can find out who the fellow was."

Sergeant Latham took the roll, which was securely strapped behind Calhoun's saddle, and began to unroll it as carefully as if he suspected it might be loaded.

"A fine rubber and a good woollen blanket," remarked the Sergeant. "Looks mighty like those goods once belonged to our good Uncle Samuel. Bet your life, they are a part of the plunder from s.h.i.+loh. Ah! here is a bundle of letters."

"Give them to me," said the Lieutenant.

The Sergeant handed them over, and the officer hastily glanced over them, reading the superscriptions.

"Why," he exclaimed, in surprise, "these letters are all addressed to persons in Kentucky. What could that fellow be doing with letters going to Kentucky? We will see." He tore open one of the letters.

He had read but a few lines when he exclaimed, with a strong expletive, "Boys, I would give a month's pay if we had captured that fellow!"

"Who was he? Who was he?" cried several soldiers in unison.

"He was-let me see-" and the Lieutenant tore open several more of the letters, and rapidly scanned them-"yes, these letters make it plain. He was a Lieutenant Calhoun Pennington, and he was from the Rebel army at Corinth. I take it he was on his way back to Kentucky to recruit for the command of a Captain John H. Morgan. Morgan-Morgan, I have heard of that fellow before. He played the deuce with us in Kentucky last winter: burned the railroad bridge over Bacon Creek, captured trains, tore up the railroad, and played smash generally. These letters all seem to be private ones written by the soldiers in Morgan's command to their relatives and friends back in Kentucky. But he may have carried important dispatches on his person. We let a rare prize slip through our fingers."

"Can't be helped now," dryly remarked Sergeant Latham. "If you had captured him it might have put one bar, if not two, on your shoulder-strap."

The Lieutenant scowled, but did not reply. All the letters were read and pa.s.sed around. Three or four of them occasioned much merriment, for they were written by love-lorn swains whom the cruel hand of war had torn from their sweethearts.

"Golly! it's a wonder them letters hadn't melted from the sweetness they contained," remarked Sergeant Latham.