Raiding with Morgan. Dunn Byron Archibald
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