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."

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTURE OF GALLATIN.

Morgan's command had not been encamped at Livingston more than two or three days when, to every one's astonishment, a couple of soldiers belonging to Captain Mathews's company came riding into camp, one on Fred Shackelford's famous horse, Prince, and the other on a well-known horse of Colonel Shackelford's, called Blenheim.

Calhoun, hearing the cheering and laughter which greeted the soldiers as they galloped in waving their hats and shouting, ran out of his quarters to see what was occasioning the excitement. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the well-known horse of Fred. Then his heart gave a great jump, for the thought came to him that his cousin had been waylaid and killed. But if so, how did the soldiers come to have Blenheim too? To his relief he soon learned the truth of the story, how from Crab Orchard Captain Mathews had sent back two of his company to capture Prince, and they had returned not only with Prince, but with Blenheim. Mathews was in high spirits as he appropriated Prince. Jumping on his back he galloped him through camp, showing off his fine points, and declaring he could outrun any horse in the brigade. A match was soon arranged, but Prince so easily outstripped every compet.i.tor that soon no officer was found who had the hardihood to enter his horse in the lists against him.

Blenheim was awarded to Conway, much to his satisfaction. He could not forego the opportunity of crowing over Calhoun, thinking he would be vexed over the capture of his cousin's horse.

"Why do you come blowing around me?" asked Calhoun, nettled by his manner, "I am neither the keeper of my cousin nor the keeper of his horse."

"Oh, you were so careful of his precious person when I took him prisoner, I did not know but your carefulness might extend to his horse," replied Conway, with a sneer.

Calhoun felt his blood boil, but controlling himself, he replied: "You did not take Captain Shackelford, and I am surprised that you should make such a statement. You forget that I was there before you."

"You would have let the fellow go," snapped Conway.

"Just as Colonel Morgan did, on his parole," answered Calhoun.

"It was your fault that he slipped through my fingers," exclaimed Conway, angrily, "but my time will come. I have swore to see him hanged before this war is over, and I shall."

"Catch your rabbit before you skin him, Captain," replied Calhoun, with provoking coolness; and the laugh was on Conway, who turned away with a muttered oath.

Conway had entertained a secret dislike to Calhoun ever since their first meeting, partly because he had been chosen by Morgan, instead of Conway himself, to go back to Kentucky, and partly on account of his being Fred's cousin. But after the affair at Colonel Shackelford's house, he took little pains to conceal his dislike. Many of the officers of the brigade noticed this, and predicted that sooner or later there would be trouble between the two.

But Calhoun was not through with being bantered over the capture of Prince. Captain Mathews came riding up and with a flourish said: "Ah!

Lieutenant, I reckon you have seen this hoss before; what do you think of him?" Now, Mathews was a rough, rollicking fellow, and quite a favorite in the command. He and Calhoun were good friends, and so Calhoun answered pleasantly: "He is the best horse in Kentucky. I know it, for I was once beaten by him in a race. But," continued Calhoun, with a laugh, "my advice is to guard him very carefully, or Captain Shackelford will get him back, sure. That horse has more tricks than you dream of."

"I am not worrying," replied Mathews. "One of your scouts has just had to fork over five dollars to one of my men, on a bet they made at Crab Orchard that I could not get the hoss. Perhaps you would like to bet I can't keep him?"

"Yes, I will go you twenty-five that Captain Shackelford will have his horse back in less than two months," answered Calhoun, dryly.

"Done!" exclaimed the Captain, gleefully, and the stakes were placed in the hands of Captain Huffman. The bet afforded much amus.e.m.e.nt to the officers, but all of them looked upon it as a very foolish bet on the part of Calhoun.

"That twenty-five is gone," said Huffman to Calhoun, as he pocketed the stakes, "but I am sure of having fifty dollars for at least two months."

"I reckon I shall lose," said Calhoun, "but Mathews had better not let Shackelford get sight of his horse."

"Why?" asked a dozen voices in concert.

"Because that horse is up to more antics than a trick horse in a circus.

You will see, if we ever run across my cousin in our raids."

"I don't know what you mean," said one of the officers, "but your cousin will have a fine time getting that horse away from Jim Mathews."

"Wait and see," was Calhoun's answer.

It was not many days before they knew what Calhoun meant. A few days sufficed to rest Morgan's command, and it was not the nature of Morgan to remain long idle. He had to be doing something. It was known that the Confederate armies were about ready to make the long-talked-of forward movement into Kentucky. In fact, General Kirby Smith had already set out from Knoxville to invade Eastern Kentucky, and General Bragg was nearly ready to take the initiative from Chattanooga.

The Federal army in Tennessee was scattered, and owing to the raids of Morgan and Forrest, the men were on short rations. General Buell was at his wits' end. He knew that General Bragg was preparing to advance, but thought he would not attempt the invasion of Kentucky before attacking him. He therefore looked for a great battle somewhere in Middle Tennessee, and concentrated his forces for that event.

Before Bragg moved, Morgan decided to strike another blow at the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, and this time right under the noses of the Federal army. Gallatin is only twenty-six miles from Nashville, and Morgan decided to attempt its capture. In order to spy out the land, Calhoun entered the place as a country lad. He found that it was garrisoned by a Federal force of about four hundred, under the command of Colonel Boone. The discipline was lax. In the daytime no pickets were out, and Calhoun found no difficulty in entering the place. He made himself known to a few of the citizens, and they gave him all the information possible. To them the coming of Morgan meant deliverance from a hateful foe.

It did not take Calhoun long to find out the station of every picket at night. The camp of the Federals was on the fair-ground, half a mile from the city. Colonel Boone was accustomed to sleep at a hotel in the city; in fact, his wife was sick at the hotel. Colonel Boone knew that Morgan was near, and was fearful of an attack. He telegraphed both to Nashville and to General Buell at MacMinnville for reinforcements, but no attention was paid to his demand. Instead, he was ordered to send nearly half of his force away to intercept a drove of beef cattle which it was reported the Confederates were driving down from Kentucky.

That the citizens might not know that his numbers were depleted, Colonel Boone did not send this force away until midnight, thinking no one would see them depart. But sharp eyes were watching. Nothing was going on in Gallatin without Calhoun's knowledge. He lost no time in reporting to Morgan, and the attack came swiftly.

Knowing the location of every picket post, Calhoun was able to effect their capture without the firing of a gun, and Morgan rode into Gallatin without the knowledge of the Federal force, which was only half a mile away. Colonel Boone was captured at the hotel. The first intimation he had that Morgan was in the city was when he was commanded by Calhoun to surrender. A demand was now made on the camp that it should surrender, which it did. Thus without firing a gun Gallatin, with the entire Federal garrison and all the military stores which it contained, was captured.

Losing no time, Morgan ordered the companies of Captain Mathews and Captain Conway, together with Calhoun's scouts, to take the stockade which guarded the tunnel six miles north of town. The attack was successful, the stockade surrendering after a slight resistance. The tunnel was now in the possession of the Confederates.

A long train of cars which had been captured was piled with wood, rails, and other combustibles, set on fire, and run into the tunnel. The sides and roof of the tunnel were supported by heavy woodwork, and the whole tunnel was soon a roaring ma.s.s of flame. The wood being burned away the tunnel caved in, and it was months before a train ran through from Louisville to Nashville. Morgan had effectually blocked the road. Highly elated with their success, the command returned to Gallatin, Mathews and Conway riding at the head of the column. To Calhoun was committed the care of the prisoners, and he brought up the rear.

When about half-way to Gallatin, Calhoun heard the report of a single pistol shot in front, then a rapid succession of rifle shots. The head of the column seemed to be thrown into confusion, and the whole command came to a halt.

Fearful that an attack had been made by a Federal force coming from Nashville, Calhoun gave orders to shoot down the first prisoner who attempted to escape, and prepared to resist any attack that might come.

But no more firing was heard, and the column began to move again. Soon an officer came riding back and told Calhoun a story that interested him greatly.

Mathews and Conway were riding at the head of the column, when, as it reached a cross-road, a peculiar sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air.

Mathews's horse gave a prodigious bound, unseated his rider, and dashed up the cross-road. Conway's horse bolted, and in spite of Conway's efforts, followed.

A boy sprang out of the bushes into the road, and Mathews's horse stopped by his side. He fired at Conway, hitting him in the shoulder. To save himself from being shot again, Conway flung himself from his horse. The boy sprang onto Mathews's horse and rode away at full speed, followed by the other horse. An ineffectual volley was fired at the boy. Captain Mathews's arm was broken by the fall.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE FIRED AT CONWAY.]

"So Captain Mathews has lost his horse?" asked Calhoun, with a faint smile.

"Yes, he will quit blowing now."