Sketch of the First Kentucky brigade

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FIRST KENTUCKY BRIGADE

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ADJUTANT GENERAL, G. B. HODGE.

h K A X K FOR 'I" , K V

AT THK KKNU.'CKY VI
MAJOR & JOHNSTON.

SKETCH

OF THE

FIRST KENTUCKY BRIGADE

BY ITS

ADJUTANT GENERAL, G. B. HODGE.

II

FRANKFORT, KY.

PRINTED AT THE KENTUCKY YEOMAN OFFICE.
MAJOR & JOHNSTON.

I874.

4

TO

GENERAL JOHN C. BRECKINRIDGE,
ITS NOBLE COMMANDER,

TO THE
GALLANT SURVIVORS,

AND TO THE

MEMORY OF THE IMMORTAL DEAD
OF THE BRIGADE,

THIS SKETCH
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.

2

^ \

SKETCH OF THE iST KENTUCKY BRIGADE.

In the general history which will go down to posterity of such
immense bodies of men as were gathered under the banners of
the Confederate States of America, it is not likely that more than
a brief and cursory reference can or will be made to the services
of so small a force as composed the First Kentucky Brigade.
Yet the anomalous position which it occupied, in regard to the
revolution, in having revolted against both State and Federal
authority, exiling itself from home, from fortune, from kindred,
and from friends — abandoning everything which makes life desir
able, save honor — gave it an individuality which cannot fail to

I attract the attention of the calm student, who, in coming years,

traces the progress of the mighty social convulsion in which it
acted no ignoble part. The State, too, from which it came,
whatever may be its destiny or its ultimate fate, will remember,
with melancholy and mournful interest, not, perhaps, unmingled
with remorse, the career of that gallant band of men, who, of
all the thousands in its borders inheriting the proud name and
lofty fame of Kentuckians, stood forth fearlessly by deeds to
express the sentiments of an undoubted majority of her people
— disapprobation of wrong and tyranny. Children now in their
cradles, youths as yet unborn, will inquire, with an earnest eager
ness which volumes of recital cannot satisfy, how their country-

I men demeaned themselves in the fierce ordeal which they had

elected as the test of their patriotism ; how they bore themselves
on the march and in the bivouac ; how in the trials of the long
and sad retreat ; how amid the wild carnage of the stricken field.
Fair daughters of the State will oftentimes, even amid the rigid
censorship which forbids utterance of words, love to come in
thought and linger about the lonely graves where the men of
the Kentucky Brigade sleep, wrapped in no winding-sheets save
their battle-clothes, beneath no monuments save the trees of the
forest, torn and mutilated by the iron storm, in which the slum-
berers met death. It has seemed to me not improper, therefore,

M214845

4 First Kentucky Brigade.

that the story should be told by one possessing peculiar facilities
for acquiring knowledge of the movements of detached portions
of the force, and who, in the capacity of a staff officer, under
the directions of its General, issued every order and partici
pated in every movement of the brigade, who had not only the
opportunity but the desire to do justice to all who composed it,
from him who bore worthily the truncheon of the General, to
those who not less worthily in their places bore their muskets as
privates. A deep interest will always be felt in the history of
the effort which was made, by men strong in their faith in the
correctness of republican forms of government, notwithstanding
the tyranny which the great experiment in the United States
had culminated in, to reconstruct from the shattered fragments
of free institutions upon which the armies of the Federal power
were trampling, a social and political fabric, under the shelter of
which they and their posterity might enjoy the rights of free
men. When the first seven Southern States seceded, and Presi
dent Lincoln took the initial steps to coerce them, the Legisla
ture of Kentucky, by an almost unanimous vote of the House
of Representatives, declared that any attempt to do so by march
ing troops over her soil would be resisted to the last extremity.
The Governor had refused to respond to the call of the Execu
tive for troops for this purpose. The Legislature approved his
course. But here unanimity ceased ; effort after effort was made
in the Legislature to provide for the call of a sovereignty con
vention. The majority steadily resisted it. As a compromise,
the neutrality of the State was assumed, acquiesced in by the
sympathizers with the North because they intended to violate it
when the occasion was ripe ; acquiesced in by the Southern men
because, while their impulses all prompted them to make com
mon cause with their Southern brethren, they believed that the
neutrality of the State, in presenting an effective barrier of seven
hundred miles of frontier between the South and invasion, offered
her more efficient assistance than the most active co-operation
could have done. The Legislature adjourned; the canvass com
menced for a new General Assembly; delegates were elected,
pledged to strict neutrality ; the Northern sympathizers had been
vigorous, active, and energetic, and unscrupulous. They had in
every county organized "Home Guards;" arms were, by their

First Kentucky Brigade. 5

connivance, introduced by the Federal Government in large
quantities. On the first Monday in September the Legislature
met, the mask was thrown off; neutrality was scouted ; troops
were openly levied for the Northern army, and the outraged
Southern men revolted.

Early in the summer of 1861, bodies of the young men of the
State had repaired to Camp Boone, in Tennessee, near the Ken
tucky line, where were forming regiments to be mustered into
the service of the Confederate States. Most of these had been
previously members of the State Guard of Kentucky, and con
sequently had enjoyed the advantage of systematic and scientific
drill. They were rapidly organized into three regiments of infan
try, known as the 2d, 3d, and 4th Kentucky Regiments of Vol
unteers, the 2d having as its Colonel, J. M. Hawes, recently an
officer of the United States Army, but who, with a devotion
which almost invariably manifested itself among the officers of
Southern birth, promptly and cheerfully gave up the advantages
of a certain and fixed position in a regularly organized army, to
offer his sword and military knowledge to the cause of South
ern independence. He was soon succeeded by Colonel Roger
Hanson. The 3d had as its Colonel, Lloyd Tighlman, the 4th
Robert P. Trabue. Colonel Tighlman, before his regiment was
actively in service, was made a Brigadier, and its Lieut. Colonel,
Thompson, succeeded to the Colonelcy. These three regiments
formed the nucleus of a brigade, to the command of which Brig
adier General S. B. Buckner, recently Inspector General and
active Commander of the Kentucky State Guard, was assigned
by President Davis. To this command were afterwards added
the 5th Kentucky, commanded by Colonel Thomas Hunt, the
6th, commanded by Colonel Joseph Lewis, Cobb's battery, and
Byrnes' battery of artillery.

On the i /th of September, 1861, General Buckner, with some
Tennessee troops and the Kentucky regiments, moved to Bowl
ing Green, in Kentucky, and occupied it, fortifying it and fitting
it for the base of active operations of the Confederate armies in
Kentucky, which it became for some months. One regiment of
infantry and a battery of artillery was thrown forward to the
bridge on Green river, under command of Colonel Hawes — the
bridge, shortly after, was burned by the Confederate troops.

6 First Kentucky Brigade.

Capt. John Morgan, a few days subsequently to this, reached
this command with one hundred men from the interior of Ken
tucky. These men were mounted, to serve as scouts ; and here
commenced that career which afterwards gained for their fearless
leader a continental reputation as a bold, daring, and effective
partisan officer. Few men, indeed, with means so limited, and
in the midst of movements so grand and stupendous that the
career of general officers have been lost sight of, have won such
a name and reputation. Of a mild and unassuming demeanor,
gentle and affable in his manners, handsome in person, and pos
sessed of all that polish of address which is supposed to best
qualify men for the drawing-room and parlor, no enterprise,
however dangerous, no reconnoissance, however tiresome and
wearying, could daunt his spirits or deter him from his purpose.
For months, with his handful of men, he swept the northern
bank of Green river, cutting off the supplies of the enemy,
destroying bridges necessary for their transportation, capturing
their pickets, and harassing their flanks, moving with a celerity
and secrecy which defied pursuit or detection. No commander
of a detached post or guard of the enemy could flatter himself
that distance from Bowling Green or disagreeableness of weather
could protect him from a visit from Morgan. He was liable to be
called upon at any hour, in any weather, or at any point beyond
the intrenched camps of the Federal army. The earth might
be soaked with rain, which for days had been falling, the roads
might be impassable, the Green and Barren rivers with their
tributaries might be swollen far beyond their banks, but over
that earth and across those rivers, when least expected, came
Morgan as with the swoop of an eagle ; and, after destroying
the munitions of the enemy, or capturing his guards, was away
a^-ain, leaving behind him a polite note intimating he would
call again soon, or perhaps telegraphing a dispatch to the near
est Federal commander, giving him full and precise particulars
of the movements he had just made, and most provoking details
of the damage he had just committed. Long after the Confed
erate army had retired from Kentucky, when the entire State
was in undisputed possession of the Northern armies, many a
Southern sympathizer found immunity and protection from mal
treatment and outrage by the significant threat that Morgan

First Kentucky Brigade. 7

would visit that neighborhood soon. And, indeed, during the
disastrous retreat from Nashville, the tireless partisan, passing
through Eastern Tennessee and Kentucky, far in the rear of the
Federal army, fell upon their train at Gallatin, Tennessee, and
lit up the spirits of the despondent Tennesseans by one of his
bold and daring strokes. Even when the Southern army had
passed the Tennessee river, when every available soldier of the
South was supposed to be at Corinth to meet the overwhelming
hosts of the invader, Morgan, gathering three or four hundred
of his men, recrossed the river, fell upon the railroad train at
Athens, Alabama, captured two hundred and eighty prisoners,
and destroyed the cars. Ambushed, defeated, cut to pieces, and
routed by greatly superior forces a few days afterwards, hardly
had the news reached Louisville of his disaster, when; collecting
two hundred of his scattered command, he fell like a thunder
bolt upon the railroad train at Cave City, in the centre of Ken
tucky, capturing many prisoners, thousands of dollars in money,
and destroying forty-three baggage cars laden with the enemy's
stores.

Early in November, 1861, the Hon. John C. Breckinridge
arrived at Bowling Green, when he resigned his seat as Senator
from Kentucky, in the Federal Congress, and was immediately
commissioned as Brigadier General, and assigned to the com
mand of the Kentucky Brigade, General Buckner assuming
command of a division of which the Kentucky Brigade was a
component part. He assumed command on the i6th of Novem
ber — having as his Chief of Staff and A. A. General, Captain
George B. Hodge, and Aid-de-Camp, Thomas T. Hawkin. The
brigade was ordered to Oakland Station, on the Louisville and
Naslwille Railroad, where, in conection with Hindman's brigade,
it remained in observation of the movements of the enemy on
the north bank of the Green river, who was known to be in great
force at Munfordsville, and in his cantonments extending back
towards Elizabethtown, and was supposed to be only waiting the
completion of the Green river bridge, which he was repairing,
to advance his entire column, estimated at 80,000 men, on Bowl
ing Green and Nashville. Behind the curtain of the brigades of
Hindman and Breckinridge, Gen. Johnston was rapidly pushing
on the fortifications at Bowling Green ; and by the latter part of
January, 1862, they had become quite formidable.

8 First Kentucky Brigade.

It had, however, become doubtful whether the enemy would
attempt the passage of the Green river. It was certain, if he
did so, his true attack would be developed in a flank movement,
by way of Glasgow and Scottsville, on Nashville, while there
was left him the alternative of massing his troops at Paducah,
then in his possession, and availing himself of his enormous
supplies of water transportation, of moving by the Tennessee
and Cumberland rivers on Forts Henry and Donelson, by a suc
cessful attack on those works, turning the flank of the Confeder
ate forces at Bowling Green, opening the way to Nashville, and
possibly enabling him to interpose between the Southern armies
and their base of operations. To guard against this latter move
ment, the divisions of Generals Floyd and Pillow, and a portion
of the division of General Buckner, were, about the 2Oth of Jan
uary, moved, by way of Clarksville, to the support of Donelson.
With this force marched the 2d Kentucky Regiment, which,
after covering itself with imperishable glory in the terrible com
bat, of three days, at Fort Donelson, was, on the i6th of Feb
ruary, surrendered to the enemy ; and passing into captivity,
ceased to participate in the campaign of the spring and summer
of 1862.

By the loth of February, definite information had been ob
tained by General Johnston of the movements of the enemy.
He was convinced that an overpowering force had moved upon
Forts Donelson and Henry; that a heavy column was pursuing
Crittenden, after defeating and routing him at Fishing Creek,
threatening Nashville on that flank; and that a force almost as
large as the Confederate force at Bowling Green was held in
hand by the enemy, to be poured across Green river and attack
him in front, while the two bodies on his right and left united
at Nashville and closed upon his rear. With the promptness and
decision which characterized his high and serenely courageous
mind, General Johnston determined to retire from Bowling Green
and fall back on Nashville, where, uniting with the garrisons and
troops in defense of Forts Donelson and Henry, should those
places be found to be untenable, he could hold the divisions of
the Federal General, Grant, in check, while he went to the assist
ance of Crittenden, and crushed the Federal column advancing
by way of Cumberland Gap. The fortifications of Bowling

First Kentucky Brigade. 9

Green were with every expedition dismantled ; the government
stores shipped as rapidly as possible to Nashville, and on the
pth of February an order was issued by Major General Hardee,
commanding the central army of Kentucky, directing Generals
Hindman and Breckinridge to repass the Barren river and be
in Bowling Green by the night of the loth. The admirable dis
cipline which General Breckinridge had exercised and maintained
in and over his command, enabled him to comply promptly with
the order, without confusion and with no loss of stores, equip
ments, or supplies. His brigade, marching at 8 o'clock A. M.,
on the loth passed Barren river bridge at 3 P. M., and bivouacked
three miles south of Bowling Green for the night. Hindman,
being farther in the rear, lost a few of his scouts, and had hardly
time to blow up the bridges over Barren river when the head
of the enemy's column came into sight, and immediately com
menced shelling the railroad depot and that portion of the track
on which were lying the freight trains. These they succeeded
in firing finally.

When the retreat of the army commenced, Breckinridge's bri
gade was constituted the rear guard — General Hardee, however,
being still in rear with the cavalry and light artillery. Notwith
standing the fact that cold, freezing, and intensely inclement
weather set in ; notwithstanding the fact that evidences of the
demoralization which a retreat in the presence of an enemy
always produces were too apparent in many divisions of the
army, yet the soldierly manner in which Breckinridge brought
off his brigade, losing not a straggler from the ranks, not a
musket or a tent, speaks more creditably for him and for them
than the recital perhaps of their deeds of daring in the field
could do.

In truth, history records no sadder tale than the retreat of the
Kentuckians from their native State. For the rest of the army
there was yet hope. Far to the South lay their homesteads,
and their families rested still in security. Between those home
steads and those families and the advancing foe were innumera
ble places where battle might be successfully offered, or where
at least the sons of the South might rear a rampart of their
bodies over which the invader could not pass. Time, political
complications, mutations of fortune, to which the most success-

io First Kentucky Brigade.

ful commanders are liable, might at any time transform the
triumph of the Northmen into disaster and defeat. Months
must elapse before the advancing columns of the enemy could
reach the South, and ere that time arrived pestilence and mala
rious disease would, amid the fens and swamps of the gulf States,
be crouching in their lair, ready to issue forth and grapple with
the rash intruders from a more salubrious clime. But for the
Kentuckians all was apparently lost. Behind their retiring regi
ments were the graves of their fathers, and the hearthstones
about which clustered every happy memory of their childhood;
there, in the possession of the invader, were the rooftrees be
neath which were gathered wives who, with a wifely smile gleam
ing even through their tears, had bidden their husbands go forth
to do battle for the right, promising to greet them with glad
hearts when they returned in the hour of triumph ; there were
the fair faces which for many in that band had made the star
light of their young lives; there were young and helpless chil
dren, for whom the future promised but suffering, poverty, desti
tution, and want ; there, too, were the thousands who had with
anxious and waiting hearts, groaning beneath the yoke of the
oppressor, counted the hours until the footsteps of their deliv
erers should be heard. On the I3th of February the brigade
crossed the line between Kentucky and Tennessee ; a night in
which rain and sleet fell incessantly was succeeded by a day of
intense and bitter cold. Everything which could contribute to
crush the spirits and weaken the nerves of men, seemed to have
combined. But for those dauntless hearts, the bitterness of sac
rifice, the weakness of doubt and uncertainty had passed, when,
by a common impulse, the General, his staff, and the field offi
cers dismounted, and, placing themselves on foot at the head of
the column, with sad and solemn countenances, but with erect
and soldierly bearing, marched for hours in the advance; and
then was observed, for the first time in that brigade, through
every grade and every rank, the look of high resolve and stern
fortitude, which, amid all the vicissitudes of its fortunes char
acterized the appearance of its members, and attracted the at
tention and comment of observers in every State through which
it passed. Henceforth for them petty physical discomforts, in
conveniences of position, annoyances of inclement weather,

First Kentucky Brigade. n

scantiness of supplies, rudeness of fare, were nothing; they felt
that they could not pass away until a great day should come
which they looked forward to with unshaken confidence, and
with patient watchfulness. They might never again dispense
in their loved native State the generous hospitality which had
become renowned throughout the continent; what remained
to them of life might be passed in penury and in exile.
Their countrymen might never know how they had lived or
where they had died; venal historians might even teach the
rising generation to brand their memories with the stigma of
treason and shame, but a day was yet to come of the triumph
of which they felt they could not be deprived; days, weeks,
months might elapse, they could bide their time. State after
State might have to be traversed, great rivers might have to be
passed, mountain ranges surmounted, hunger and thirst endured,
but the day and the hour would surely come when with serried
ranks they should meet the foe, and their hearts burning with
the memory of inexpiable wrongs, should, in the presence of the
God of battles, demand and exact a terrible reckoning for all
they had endured and all they had suffered.

The night of the I4th was passed at Camp Trousdale, where
summer barracks, which had been erected to accommodate the
Tennessee volunteers stationed there for instruction, afforded
but inadequate protection against the bitter cold of the night.
These were the next night burned by the cavalry which covered
the retreat, and afforded to the people of Tennessee the first
evidence that their State was about to be invaded. The spirits
of the army, however, were cheered by the accounts which Gen
eral Johnston, with thoughtful care, forwarded, by means of
couriers, daily, of the successful resistance of Fort Donelson.
The entire army bivouacked in line of battle on the night of the
1 5th at the junction of the Gallatin and Nashville, and Bowling
Green and Nashville roads, about ten miles from Nashville. It
was confidently believed that by means of boats, a large portion
of the force would be sent to the relief of Fort Donelson. But
on the morning of the i6th, it began to be whispered, first,
among the higher officers, spreading thence, in spite of every
precaution, to the ranks, that Donelson not only had fallen, but
that the divisions of Floyd, Pillow, and Buckner had been sur-

12 Fitst Kentucky Brigade.

rendered as prisoners of war. Rumors of the wildest nature flew
from regiment to regiment, the enemy were coming upon trans
ports to Nashville — the bridges were being destroyed — the forts
below the city were already surrendered — the retreat of the army
was cut off — and as if to confirm the rumors, during the entire
morning, the explosion of heavy artillery was heard in front
and in the direction of Nashville. This proved to be caused by
the firing of guns at Fort Zollicoffer, which, after having being
heavily charged, were, with their muzzles in the earth, exploded
to destroy them. At 4 P. M., on the i6th, the head of the
brigade came in sight of the bridges at Nashville, across which,
in dense masses, were streaming infantry, artillery, and transpor
tation and provision trains, but still with a regularity and order
which gave promise of renewed activity and efficiency in the
future. At nightfall General Johnston, who had established his
head-quarters at Edgefield, on the northern bank of the Cum
berland, saw the last of his wearied and tired columns defile
across and safely establish themselves beyond.

Amid all the disasters and gloom of the retreat, the great
captain had abundant cause of self-gratulation and confidence.
He had reached Kentucky in October of the previous year to
find the plan of occupation of the State to be upon three par
allel lines of invasion, and yet all dependent upon a single point
as the base of operations and the depot of supplies. Vicious
and faulty as these unforeseen events proved it to have been, he
had made the most of the situation. He found an army of
hastily levied volunteers, badly equipped, miserably clad, fully
one half stricken down by disease, destitute of transportation,
and with barely the shadow of discipline. Never able to wield
more than eighteen thousand fighting men at and around Bowl
ing Green, with these men he held at bay a force of the enemy
of fully one hundred thousand men. The Southern States were
protected from invasion. Time was obtained to drill and consol
idate the volunteer force. The army was sustained in the fertile
and abundant grain-producing regions of Kentucky, transporta
tion gathered of the most efficient character, immense supplies of
beef, corn, and pork collected from the surrounding country and
safely garnered in depots further South for the coming summer
campaign ; and when, finally, the defeat of Crittenden, and the

First Kentucky Brigade. 13

overwhelming attack on Donelson had apparently cut off his
retreat, leaving him eighty miles in front of his base of opera
tions and his magazines, he had with promptness, unrivaled
military sagacity, and yet with mingled caution and celerity,
dismantled his fortifications at Bowling Green, transmitted his
heavy artillery and ammunition to Nashville, and extricated his
entire army from the jaws of almost certain annihilation and
capture. The enemy came from the capture of Fort Donelson,
in which he had lost in killed and wounded a force equal to the
entire garrison of the place, to see, to his astonishment, an army
in his front undismayed, and held in hand by a General who
had just displayed to the world military qualities of the highest
order, and a genius for strategy which seemed to anticipate all
his plans and as readily to baffle them. In the capture of the
army defending Donelson the Confederacy lost, as prisoners of
war, the gallant and idolized Buckner, Hanson and his splendid
regiment, and many Kentuckians connected with the staff of
those officers.

The night of February i6th found the army encamped safely
upon the Murfreesboro and Nashville road ; but it found the city
of Nashville in a condition of wild and frantic anarchy.

The Capital of Tennessee, Nashville, contained, ordinarily, a
population of about 30,000 souls. The revolution had made it
the rendezvous of thousands fleeing from Kentucky, Missouri,
and Western Virginia. So great was the throng of strangers,
that lodging could be with difficulty procured at any price.
Every house was filled and overflowing, boarding was held at
fabulous prices, and private citizens whose wealth would, under
most circumstances, have secured their domesticity from intru
sion, were, perforce, compelled to accommodate and shelter
strangers whom the misfortunes of exile and persecution had
thrown upon the world. Many business houses and warehouses
had been transformed into hospitals for the sick soldiery of the
forces in Kentucky. So great was the influx of invalids that in
many private families as many as three and four of the sick were
to be found. Here, too, were brought hundreds of artificers
and artisans, the government having established manufactories
of various kinds to supply the wants of the army. In no single
city of the Confederacy was to be found so large and so varied

14 First Kentucky Brigade.

a supply of all those articles which are essential to the mainte
nance of a large and well-appointed army. During the fall and
winter, under government patronage and assistance, many thou
sands of hogs and bullocks had been slaughtered and packed.
These were stored in the city. Immense magazines of ammu
nitions, of arms, large and small, of ordnance stores, of clothing,
of camp equipage, were located here. Capacious warehouses
were filled with rice, flour, sugar, molasses, and coffee, to the
value of many millions of dollars. The Chief Quarter-Master
and Commissary were accustomed to fill at once the requisitions
of the armies of Kentucky and of Missouri, of Texas and the
Gulf. It may be safely estimated that, at the fall of Donelson,
Nashville had crowded within its limits not less than sixty thou
sand residents. It never seems to have occurred to the citizens,
or, indeed, the government, that Nashville was really in danger.
A few unimportant and valueless earth-works had been thrown
up, looking to its defense, but no systematic plan of fortification
had been fixed upon or followed up ; nothing but the situation
of Fort Donelson, on the State line, prevented the enemy's gun
boats, or even his unarmed transports, from coming up to the
city and mooring at its wharves.

On Sunday morning, as the citizens were summoned by the
church bells to the various houses of worship in the city, con
gratulations were joyously exchanged upon the successful de
fense of Fort Donelson. Ere the hours of morning devotion
had expired, the news of its fall came like a clap of thunder in
a summer sky. The most excited and improbable stories were
circulated, yet no exaggeration, no improbability, seemed too
monstrous to command credence. Donelson was more than an
hundred miles down the river, yet it was insisted that the ene
my's boats were within a few miles of the city. The passage of
the army across the Cumberland and through the town added
to the general panic and confusion. Consternation, terror, and
shameful cowardice seemed to have seized alike upon the un
thinking multitude and the officers who were expected to evince
fortitude and manliness ; and now commenced a wild and frantic
struggle for escape. Thousands who had never borne arms,
who were, by all the laws of civilized warfare, exempt from the
penalties of hostilities, were impressed with the conviction that

First Kentucky Brigade. 15

the safety of their lives depended upon escaping from the
doomed Capital. On all the railroads from the city trains were
hourly run, bearing fugitives a few miles into the interior. The
country roads were thronged with vehicles of every character
and description; the hire of hacks rose to ten, twenty, fifty,
even an hundred dollars for two or three hours' use. Night
brought no cessation of the tumult. It rained in torrents, but
all through the night might be seen carriages, wagons, drays,
and tumbrils crowded with affrighted men and their families.
Tender and delicate women, feeble and carefully nurtured chil
dren, were to be found, exposed to the inclemencies of the
weather, in open carts and wagons, abandoning luxurious and
costly houses for the precarious sustenance of doubtful and un
certain charity in their flights. Nor was the disgraceful panic
confined to non-combatants or timid citizens. Men who had
gained high reputation for courage and presence of mind seemed
to have ignored every sentiment of manliness in their indecent
haste to secure safety; nay, some who were high in military
position, whose province and whose duty it was, peculiarly and
particularly, to guard public property and protect government
stores, used their official position to obtain trains of cars upon
which were packed their household furniture, their carriages,
their horses, and their private effects ; and having effected this,
they made haste to be gone.

Troops were left in the city by order of Gen. Johnston, but
the mob spirit rose triumphant. For many days the store
houses of the government stood open and abandoned by their
proper custodians. Every one was at liberty to help himself
to what he desired ; and it may well be supposed that the thou
sands who crowded the streets were not slow to avail them
selves of the privilege. Not only were hundreds of thousands
of dollars' worth of provisions carried away and sequestered, but
the very streets and highways were strewn with bales and pack
ages of raiment and clothing hastily taken away and as reck
lessly abandoned. It was currently estimated that public prop
erty to the value of at least five millions of dollars was dissipated
and destroyed in a few hours. There were not wanting, how
ever, noble and brilliant examples of firmness, courage, and fore
thought. On Tuesday following the surrender, the wagonmas-

1 6 First Kentucky Brigade.

ter of the 2d Kentucky; Regiment reached the head-quarters of
the Kentucky Brigade with fourteen empty wagons with which
he had escaped from Fort Donelson. These the gallant Breck-
inridge loaded with supplies of subsistence and clothing, which
were the means of comfort to his command months after the
abandonment of Nashville. Even when the enemy was hourly
> expected in the city he might have been seen on the northern
bank of the Cumberland superintending the transit of herds of
well kept cattle brought from Kentucky, that his command
might be furnished with fresh rations during their further re
treat.

Slowly and steadily the army fell back from Nashville until,
on the 22d of February, it reached Murfreesboro. Effecting
then a junction with the army of General Crittenden, which had
retreated from Fishing Creek, and for the first time since the
departure from Bowling Green, General Johnston found himself
in condition to offer and accept battle from the enemy.

It was evident to the great man who commanded the depart
ment of the West that he could not linger in Tennessee. He was
doubtless able to successfully resist the force under Gen. Buell
which had now occupied Nashville, but it was well known that
none of the force occupied in the reduction of Donelson had as
cended the river. With unlimited supplies of water transporta
tion, nothing was easier than for them to pass round the peninsula,
and, ascending the Tennessee river, land a force in his rear and
place him in the same dilemma from which he had just so skill
fully extracted his army. A retreat behind the Tennessee was
inevitable, and the strategical position he occupied at Murfrees
boro opened to him three routes. He might pass over to the
turnpike road from Nashville, through Columbia and Pulaski,
parallel with the railroad, and cross at Florence, or, throwing
himself into the mountain passes of Eastern Tennessee, in their
wild gorges and rugged ravines, he might defy pursuit and re
treat upon Chattanooga. This, however, would have been a
virtual abandonment of the Mississippi and its valley. Still a
third route was open. Due south from Murfreesboro ran a
road through a comparatively unfrequented country, passing
directly through Huntsville to Decatur, on the southern bank
of the Tennessee river. While this route offered the advantage

First Kentucky Brigade. 17

of a middle course between the two great lines of macadamized
roads east and west of him, enabling him, in case of necessity,
to pass over to either; it was not without objections. Lying,
for the most part, through cultivated and deep bottoms, on the
edge of Northern Alabama, it rises abruptly to cross the great
plateau thrown out from the Cumberland Mountains, here nearly
a thousand feet above the surrounding country, and full forty
miles in width, covered with dense forests of timber, yet barren
and sterile in soil, and wholly destitute of supplies for either
man or beast. Two weeks of unintermitting rain had softened
the earth until the surface resembled avast swamp; but along
this route the Commander-in-Chief determined to pass; and,
after occupying a week in reorganizing his army, a cloud of
cavalry, consisting of Morgan's Squadron, the 1st Kentucky
Cavalry, the Texas Rangers, Wirt Adams', Scott's, and Forrest's
regim'ents were thrown out in the direction of the enemy, with
orders, as they fell back, to burn the cotton and destroy the
bridges ; and the further retreat thus commenced.

History records no example of a retreat conducted with such
success under such adverse circumstances. Rain continued to
fall almost without intermission ; it was spring, the season most
unpropitious for transits over country roads, and the passage of
such numbers of horses and wagons, rendered the route literally
a river of liquid mud. For miles at times the wagons would be
submerged in ooze and mire up to the hubs of their wheels,
while the saturated condition of the earth rendered comfortable
encampments impossible. The ascent of the plateau, although
only about two miles of distance, consumed a day for each bri
gade, and time was everything to men in their condition; yet
steadily, earnestly, hopefully, they toiled on until, on the loth
of March, the head of the army had reached a point within
three miles of Decatur, but with the Tennessee swollen far be
yond its banks, flooding the country for miles in every direction,
and sweeping with resistless force over the roads and fords.
Happily, at this point, the Memphis and Charleston Railroad
crossed the Tennessee ; and, as a precaution against its freshets,
the railroad company had constructed an embankment fifty feet
in height and two miles in length on which were laid their rails;
2

1 8 First Kentucky Brigade.

this embankment was still ten or twelve feet above the surround
ing waters, and reached to the terminus of the bridge. Its nar
row width of seven feet precluded the possibility of anything
like orderly movement ; but over it were passed the infantry and
cavalry without cessation either day or night. The artillery and
baggage -wagons were placed on platform cars, and at a given
signal the track was cleared while they were run to and over
the bridge. Patience, perseverance, and indomitable will finally
accomplished the work, and on the i6th the Kentucky Brigade,
bringing up the rear of the army, marched through Decatur.
A month had elapsed since the fall of Donelson, but the army
was at last behind the Tennessee, and all was not yet lost. Still
the danger was not yet over. The enemy commanded the river
and might, by vigorous movements, prevent the junction of the
army of Central Kentucky with that of General Beauregard,
which had fallen back from Columbus, in Kentucky, and was
now endeavoring to unite with that under General Johnston. In
truth, it seemed that, if the enemy was prompt and vigorous in
his movements, this would be impossible. The Memphis and
Charleston Railroad runs nearly due east and west, pursuing for
ninety miles an almost parallel course with the Tennessee river
— never diverging from it more than twenty miles, and in many
places approaching to within eight or ten. Numerous streams
which drain the country and empty into the main river were
crossed by it, and on the margins of these streams are almost
invariably found swamps requiring heavy trestle-work to support
the rail. A little celerity on the part of the enemy might at
any hour enable him to destroy a section of this trestle-work,
and thus cut off the communication. To transport the army by
the country roads was impossible, the torrent-like rains which
had impeded the progress of the army through Tennessee had
continued to fall after the passage of the river. In many places
the country was covered with sheets of water too deep to be
forded, while the roads, not thus submerged, were impassable
for horsemen. It was difficult for the various corps to pass far
enough from Decatur to find encampments. Within a mile of
the town might be counted scores of wagons, on the various
roads, sunk to their beds in mire, and which the quagmire of
oozing earth around them prevented the possibility of unload-

First Kentucky Brigade. 19

ing. Hindman's brigade of Arkansas troops was thrown for
ward by rail to Courtland immediately. Crittenden was pushed
beyond him to luka, and on the 2ist the Kentucky Brigade,
under General Breckinridge, was dispatched, with its field pieces,
ammunition, and baggage, to Burnsville, within fifteen miles of
Corinth, by cars, while the horses and wagons were sent to
struggle through as best they could on the dirt roads.

The remainder of the army was gradually pushed on to Cor
inth, meeting there the army of Beauregard, and confidence and
hope were once more restored. The danger of an immediate
surprise was over; but the greatest vigilance was necessary to
meet and prevent the enemy from landing in force, and, by
strength of numbers, accomplishing that which he had failed
to do by celerity of movement. For several days his gunboats
swept up and down the Tennessee river, shelling the banks, and
apparently seeking a favorable point to disembark from his
transports. The little village of Eastport, situated some eight
miles from luka, it was supposed, offered him peculiar advan
tages, and preparations were made to resist him by throwing up
earth-works, and placing in position two thirty-two pounders.
He continued, however, to make feints, landing a few regiments
at various points, but almost immediately withdrawing them,
until information was received, which convinced the Command-
er-in-Chief that the attack of the enemy would be on Corinth,
where is located the junction of the Mobile and Ohio Railroad
with the Charleston and Memphis Railroad. Meantime, the
greater portion of the division of General Crittenden, composed
of Statham's brigade and Bowen's brigade, was sent forward to
Burnsville, and ordered to report to General Breckinridge. Hind
man's force had passed on to Corinth, and was now incorporated
with, and formed part of, the corps d'armee of General Hardee.
Scouts were kept constantly reconnoitering the roads leading to
the Tennessee river, and vigorous efforts made to bring the army
to a high state of efficiency in discipline and equipment. The
enemy, it was now known, had landed seven divisions of his
army, amounting to about forty-two thousand men, at a point
on the Tennessee river, near Pittsburg Landing, and was now
encamped in position, his right resting on a small stream called
Owl Creek, and his left on Lick Creek, the streams running

23 First Kentucky Brigade.

nearly parallel to each other, four miles apart. To meet and
crush this force, or cripple it before General Buell, with his
army, which was advancing through Tennessee, could reinforce
it, was the object of the Commander-in-Chief, preparatory to
which, his army was re-organized and cast into four divisions or
corps.

The first, under General Bragg, consisted of 9,422 men.

The second, under General Polk, numbered 4,855 men.

The third corps was commanded by General Hardee, 15,524
men.

And the reserve, consisting of the Kentucky Brigade, Stat-
ham's brigade, and Bowen's brigade, amounted, according to the
returns in the Adjutant General's office, on the night of April
the 5th, to 6,894 men, commanded by Brigadier General John C.
Breckinridge. The cavalry amounted to three thousand.

Two roads, the one from Corinth, the other from Burnsville,
lead to Pittsburg Landing ; they unite on a ridge four miles from
the river, and thence the road, gradually descending a long slope,
leads to the Tennessee, along a spur of the hilly range, with
lateral slopes, to Lick Creek on the one side and Owl Creek on
the other. The whole tongue of land between these streams
is densely wooded with unbroken forests ; and as it approaches
within a mile of the river, is covered, in addition, with a thick
mass of undergrowth sweeping to its banks. On this unfavor
able ground the battle was to be fought. On the morning of
April the 4th, at 3 o'clock, A. M., the reserve corps marched
from Burnsville, by way of Farmington and Monterey, expect
ing to reach the point of junction of the two roads that night.
A heavy rain storm, however, obstructed its progress, as well as
that of the other divisions of the army, and it was not until the
night of the 5th of April that it reached the junction. Rations
had been provided for three days, but no tents and no baggage
were taken — the want of which added greatly to the discomfort
of the commands, and rendered many unfit for duty. The delay
and the tired condition of the troops on the night of the 5th
caused a difference of opinion to prevail at the council of war
as to the propriety of attacking; but General Johnston deter
mined to proceed The other divisions had, on the night of the
5th, reached the positions assigned them, and were posted thus:

First Kentucky Brigade. 21

the third corps formed the first line of battle, its right resting on
Lick Creek and its left on Owl Creek, and bivouacked in order
of battle within half a mile of the enemy, who seems to have
been unconscious of the blow about to be struck. In rear of
that the first corps, under General Bragg, bivouacked in order of
battle a quarter of a mile distant. The second corps, under
General Polk, was massed in column of brigades on the road
from Corinth, immediately in rear of the junction with the
Monterey road, and had orders to move up and form in line of
battle as soon as the troops in advance had moved on sufficient
ly, while the reserve corps, under General Breckinridge, was
massed in column of brigades on the Monterey road, with
orders to move when General Folk's corps had passed, and hold
itself subject to the contingencies of the day. At 5 o'clock, A.
M., on the morning of April 6th, General Hardee drove in the
pickets of the enemy, and the terrible battle of Shiloh com
menced. Steadily and irresistibly he swept on, driving the
enemy before him, until the camps were reached, where the
resistance became most desperate. The second line of battle,
under General Bragg, had by this time been brought up and
intermingled with the first line, and the central advanced camp
of the enemy was abandoned by him only, however, that he
might make the more stubborn resistance behind it and in front
of the others. Observing an attempt of the enemy to flank on
the extreme left, General Beauregard sent orders to detach the
Kentucky Brigade, and send it to that point. This was done —
the command now devolving upon Colonel Robt. P. Trabue,
Colonel of the 4th Kentucky and senior Colonel of the brigade.
During the whole of that bloody day, from 9 o'clock, when it
became engaged, it maintained the reputation of its native State,
and slowly but surely pushed back the force opposed to it. It
never gave way or was broken, though terribly cut to pieces ;
it never charged that it did not break the ranks of the army ;
and it was found, when the action closed in the evening, after
ten hours of continuous fighting, in the front rank of the army.
It will be necessary to refer more particularly to its movements
as we progress. Owing to the dense mass of the undergrowth
the troops were brought in close proximity to each other, and
the firing was consequently destructive, murderous, and deadly.

22 First Kentucky Brigade.

Two o'clock had arrived ; the whole army was and had been
engaged for hours, with the exception of Bowen's and Statham's
brigades of the reserve corps. The enemy had been driven
through, and from half of his camps, but refused to give back
further. Giving way on his right and left wings, he had massed
his force heavily in the centre, and poured an almost unintermit-
ting hail of fire, murderous beyond description, from his covert
of trees and bushes, when General Breckinridge was ordered up
to break his line. Having been most of the day in observation
on the Hamburg road, marching in column of regiments, the
reserve was now moved by the left flank, until opposite the
point of attack, rapidly deployed in line of battle, Statham's bri
gade forming the right and Bowen's the left. The long slope
of the ridge was here abruptly broken by a succession of small
hills or undulations of about fifty feet in height, dividing the
rolling country from the river bottom, and behind the crest of
the last of these the enemy was concealed ; opposite them, at
the distance of seventy-five yards, was another long swell or
hillock, the summit of which it was necessary to attain in order
to open fire ; and to this elevation the reserve moved, in order
of battle, at a double-quick. In an instant the opposing height
was one sheet of flame. Battle's Tennessee regiment, on the
extreme right, gallantly maintained itself, pushing forward under
a withering fire and establishing itself well in advance. Little's
Tennessee regiment, next to it, delivered its fire at random and
inefficiently, became disordered, and retired in confusion down
the slope. Three times it was rallied by its Lieutenant Colonel,
assisted by Colonel T. T. Hawkins, Aid-de-Camp to General
Breckinridge, and by the Adjutant General, and carried up the
slope, only to be as often repulsed and driven back — the regiment
of the enemy opposed to it, in the intervals, directing an oblique
fire upon Battle's regiment, now contending against overwhelm
ing odds. The crisis of the contest had come ; there were no
more reserves, and General Breckinridge determined to charge.
Calling his staff around him, he communicated to them his in
tentions, and remarked that he, with them, would lead it. They
were all Kentuckians, and although it was not their privilege to
fight that day with the Kentucky Brigade, they were men who
knew how to die bravely among strangers, and some, at least,

First Kentucky Brigade. 23

would live to do justice to the rest. The Commander-in-Chief,
General Albert Sidney Johnston, rode up at this juncture, and
learning the contemplated movement, determined to accompany
it. Placing himself on the left of Little's regiment, his com
manding figure in full uniform, conspicuous to every eye, he
waited the signal. General Breckinridge, disposing his staff
along the line, rode to the right of the same regiment, and with
a wild shout, which rose high above the din of battle, on swept
the line, through a storm of fire, over the hill, across the inter
vening ravine, and up the slope occupied by the enemy. Noth
ing could withstand it. The enemy broke and fled for half a
mile, hotly pursued, until he reached the shelter of his batteries.
Well did the Kentuckians sustain that day their honor and their
fame. Of the little band of officers who started on that forlorn
hope, but one was unscathed, the gallant Breckinridge himself.
Colonel Hawkins was wounded in the face; Captain Allen's leg
was torn to pieces by a shell ; the horses of the fearless boy,
Cabell Breckinridge, and of the Adjutant General, were killed
under them, and General Johnston was lifted dying from his sad
dle. It may well be doubted whether the success, brilliant as it
was, decisive as it was, compensated for the loss of the great
Captain.

Few men have moved upon the stage of public life who have
been the peers of Albert Sidney Johnston. Tall and command
ing in person, of gentle and winning address, he was the most
unassuming of men ; yet his mind was cast in nature's largest
mould ; possessed of that high and serene courage which no
reverses or trials could overcome, patient in difficulties, earnest
in effort, firm in purpose, he had been invested by the President
with the powers of a Pro-Consul. His sway extended from the
Alleghenies to the western confines of Texas. Supervising the
movements of five separate armies, in countries hundreds of
miles apart, his capacious mind embraced the details of all,
while exercising almost unlimited authority over four millions
of people. No stain of personal or selfish ambition rests upon
his noble character. The nation and the army felt that there
was always hope while Sidney Johnston lived, and yet his death
was not without a grand and crowning triumph. Well he knew
the battle must be won ; fully as well he knew, to win the bat-

24 First Kentucky Brigade.

tie, that charge must be successful. The last vision which fell
upon his glazing sight was the flying ranks of the enemy ; the
last sound which struck upon his ears, now sealing in death, was
the exultant shouts of his army, telling him that the field was
won, which he believed secured the triumph of the cause for
which he offered up his life.

Pure and lofty had been the great soldier's life;
Grand and worthy even of himself was his death.

The general repulse of the enemy had now thrown the re
serve on the extreme right of the Confederate line. Far on the
left might be heard the musketry of the Kentucky Brigade and
the roar of its artillery as it pushed its columns forward. It was
fighting its way to its gallant General, and the hour was drawing
near when they were to meet in the pride of glorious success.
General Bragg, observing that behind the right flank of the en
emy dense masses of troops were massed, from which reserves
were drawn to sustain his line, concentrated the fire of his bat
teries, loaded with spherical case and shell, upon them. The
effect was magical. The right of the enemy broke and fled, the
centre followed, then the left wing; and charging along the
whole line, the Confederate army swept through the camps of
the enemy, capturing three thousand prisoners and driving the
Federal force cowering beneath the shelter of the iron-clad gun
boats ; and then and there, in the full fruition of success, the
Kentucky Brigade and its General met for the first time during
that bloody day since their separation in the morning, both cov
ered with glory ; both proud of and gratified with each other.
The terrible day of reckoning so long and so patiently waited for
had come at last ; and as they strode over the field of blood their
pathway to vengence had been lit by the gleam of bayonets and
the lurid glare of the cannon's flash. The greatest conflict which
as yet had taken place between the sections had been won by the
scorned and despised " Southern mob." For fifteen hours they
steadily drove before them the finest army of the Federal Gov
ernment. Superior in numbers, in discipline, in arms, and
equipments, the army of Grant had lost its camps, its baggage,
provisions and supplies, and the panic-stricken remnant of it
huddled cowering under the banks of the Tennessee, only pro
tected from total annihilation by the gunboats lying in the

First Kentucky Brigade. 25

stream, a disorganized and terror-stricken mob, while its dead
and wounded lay in thousands for miles behind the Confederate
army. By some fatal misapprehension of those in authority,
which it is useless now to discuss, the full fruits of the victory were
not gathered. The Confederate army paused when it had only
to stretch forth its hands and grasp as prisoners of war the whole
hostile force. Night fell quickly over the scene of carnage, and
the tired heroes, worn out with the long and harassing march of
the preceding days, and the fifteen hours of mortal combat, sank,
by regiments and brigades, upon the blood-soaked earth, amid
the dead and dying, to sleep — a sleep so deep and profound that
not even the groans of the wounded, or the deep boom of the
heavy guns of the enemy, which were fired during the whole
night, could break or disturb it. No record exists of a contest
between such numbers of men in a country so densely wooded
and in a space so confined. Brilliant generalship General John
ston undoubtedly displayed in surprising the enemy, and in the
skill with which he handled raw troops, hurling mass after mass
upon the enemy and beating him in detail ; but there was neither
room nor opportunity for strategy or maneuvre — it was a death
grapple of man to man — stern and deadly combat j^which the
men of the South maintained their long and proud pre-emi
nence.

During the night, General Buell with a fresh army of twenty-
five thousand men, nearly as large as the Confederate army
originally was, came up, hastily crossed the river, and threw
himself in front of the army defeated on the 6th. The Confed
erate army, in the meantime, after despoiling the Federal camps,
had been withdrawn beyond them and formed anew in order of
battle. Skirmishing commenced at 6 o'clock, A. M., but the
engagement did not become general until 9 o'clock, A. M., from
which time, until 2 P. M., the Northern armies were again, as
on the day before, steadily driven back through its camps and
forced towards the river. A heavy and continuous rain had
commenced falling at midnight after the battle of the 6th, and
continued until near daylight. The effect of this upon men
wearied and exhausted, as was the Southern army, was terrible.
The wounded who had fallen late in the evening, and near the
enemy's lines, could not be recovered ; they were consequently

26 First Kentucky Brigade.

exposed during the entire night, and endured sufferings of the
most agonizing character. It was impossible, too, in the dark
ness and confusion, to reform the lines for a night bivouac with
that accuracy desirable in such critical circumstances, and the
proximity of the abandoned camps of the enemy afforded a
temptation to straggling which, in too many cases, proved irre
sistible, and, as was seen during the battle of the next day, demor
alized many corps, and impaired the efficiency, to a great extent,
of the army, and it may, with truth, be said, led to the loss of the
second day's battle. So great, indeed, had been the diminution
of the ranks by death, wounds, and straggling, that at no time
during the contest of the /th was General Beauregard enabled to
bring more than fifteen thousand effective men to hand in battle.
The army of the enemy under General Grant had been totally
defeated, and had only escaped complete rout and annihilation
by its inability to cross the Tennessee river, and the protection
of the gunboats ; thousands had been slain, thousands wounded,
thousands captured, and thousands demoralized, but in a force so
large as it originally was (estimated by its own officers at forty-
two thousand men) there were, of course, large masses capable
of effecti-^^ervice on Monday; to these was to be added the
force of Biiell of twenty-five thousand fresh troops, and it may
be safely estimated that, notwithstanding the reverse of Sunday,
and the immense loss of the enemy on that day, he took the
field on Monday with quite forty thousand combatants, or nearly
three times the Southern force. The leaders of the Confederate
army were fully advised of the reinforcement, and of the peril
which threatened the Confederate army in a second conflict in
its exhausted condition, but they deemed it necessary to cripple
this force before withdrawing from the field.

The Kentucky Brigade which had preserved, to a great ex
tent, its organization and discipline, was again stationed upon
the extreme left. Its battery of artillery, commanded by Capt.
Byrne (Cobb's battery having on Sunday been destroyed in bat
tle), was engaged for three hours with two batteries of the ene
my — firing during the duel more than one thousand cartridges,
and finally silenced both. The infantry, drawn up in order of
battle as a support to the battery, stood enthusiastic spectators
of the tremendous cannonade ; and, although frequently suffer-

First Kentucky Brigade. 27

ing severely from the grape of the enemy, more than once broke
spontaneously into a shout of encouragoment and admiration at
the gallant manner in which Byrne handled his guns. The ene
my hurled charge after charge of infantry against it, but unsuc
cessfully. The fifth regiment of infantry, commanded by Col.
Thos. H. Hunt, charged in turn, routing the opposing force, but
with some loss to its force, losing many valuable officers. Col
onel Robert Trabue, of the 4th Kentucky Regiment, as senior
Colonel of the brigade, commanded it on this, as on the preced
ing day, with conspicuous gallantry and marked soldiery ability.
But there is a limit to human endurance. The battle of the
;th was fought by General Beauregard with but fifteen thousand
men. Exhausted by the struggle of the preceding day, he had
received no reinforcements, and he determined, at 2 o'clock, P.
M., to withdraw. In good order, and with the precision of a
parade, division after division was withdrawn. General Breckin-
ridge, with his own brigade and Statham's brigade, bringing up
the rear, and bivouacking at the summit of the ridge, during the
night, within sight of the enemy's lines. A soaking rain fell all
night upon the wearied troops of the rear guard, while the rest
of the army slowly made its way to Corinth.

Many of the noblest of the sons of Kentucky ha^Jllen ; but
conspicuous in position and character were two men who, in
the same discharge, in the same regiment, and within a few feet
of each other, fell mortally wounded.

George W. Johnson, of Scott county, Kentucky, had passed
more than forty years of his life in the peaceful pursuits of agri
culture. Singularly modest and retiring in demeanor, he had
seemed to scorn the turmoil of public life and the undignified
contest for public place. The soul of honor and high integrity,
he was respected by all who came in contact with him. Earn
est and sincere in purpose, his course in all things was open, to
a proverb ; cultivated in mind, he was a profound thinker, if
not an active participator, in national politics. Early in the his
tory of secession he had arrived at the conclusion that the sep
aration was final ; and with all the earnestness of his straight
forward nature he had urged that Kentucky should share the
fate and cast her fortunes with the South. When it was evi
dent that the Legislature of Kentucky had sold and bartered

28 First Kentucky Brigade,

her honor to the Federal Government, he promptly abandoned
home and its tranquil enjoyments to cast his lot with those of
his countrymen, who were gathering at Bowling Green to resist
the attempt at coercion ; and yet in an act of revolution, the
strong reverence of the man for law, order, and regular govern
ment, manifested itself. Mainly and almost wholly to his efforts
is due the formation of the Provisional Government of Ken
tucky, of which he was elected the head ; and when the army
retreated from Kentucky, gathering his Council around him, he
accompanied it in all its vicissitudes and movements. On Sun
day, during the battle of Shiloh, he served as a volunteer Aid-
de-Camp to the commanding officer of the Kentucky Brigade,
until his horse was killed under him, when, seizing a musket, he
took his place in the ranks of the 4th regiment and fought on
foot during the remainder of the day. Monday morning found
him in the same humble position, assuming all the duties and
sharing art the dangers of a simple private in the ranks. At
eleven o'clock he fell, shot through the body, remaining alone
and unaided on the field while the army fell back, and during
the long and inclement night which succeeded. He was found
on the morning of Tuesday by the enemy, and died in his camp.
None wholcnew him can doubt that through the long hours of
that day olagony, and the silent stillness of that night of suffer
ing and pain, his great heart was consoled by the conviction of
the swift coming independence of his country.

Thos. B. Monroe had early entered public life. His firmness
of character, depth of information, and brilliancy of talent, indi
cated him as a leader of men in the first hours of his manhood.
Called before he was thirty years of age to the Secretaryship of
State, he had zealously and determinedly advocated the seces
sion of the State. Disappointed, as were thousands of others,
at her lukewarmness, he had resigned the Secretaryship, and,
making his way through the lines of the Federal army to Bowl
ing Green, had been appointed Major of the 4th Kentucky Reg
iment. The promise of his military career equaled that of his
civil life. A few weeks only was necessary to place him high in
the estimation of the senior officers of the army, and to win for
him the unbounded confidence of his men. He fell, mortally
wounded, within a few feet of Governor Johnson, and died on

First Kentucky Brigade. 29

the field of battle, bequeathing his sword to his infant son, and
with the last breath, requesting he might be told " his father had
died in defense of his honor and the rights of his country."

The morning of the 8th of April was consumed in falling back
to the junction of the Corinth and Burnsville roads, where Gen
eral Breckinridge stubbornly took his stand, with his force biv
ouacking in the open air, sinking often to their boot-tops in mud,
drenched nightly with the rain, he and they obstinately refused
to move an inch until the wounded in the hospitals were re
moved. Again and again the enemy sent out strong columns
to dislodge him. Sometimes these were charged by the cavalry
under Forrest and Adams, and driven back in disorder, losing
many prisoners ; sometimes, overawed by his firm and dauntless
front, they retired without attacking. For five days he thus
held his position, his whole force subsisting on rations of dam
aged bread and raw pork. When he did move every wounded
man had been sent forward ; the army was safe in its lines at
Corinth. On the I3th of April he marched, at the head of his
band of heroes, wasted now to spectres, haggard with hunger
and suffering, into Corinth. He had won for himself through
out that entire army, the reputation of a skillful Gen^^^a brave
and courageous captain, and had now the ardent lol^Hd devo
tion of strangers as well as friends, and was the idol oT the Re
serve. At Corinth he received the just reward of his high and
soldierly conduct, the commission of a Major-General, and passed
to the command, permanently, of a division. Here appropriate
ly ends the history of these troops as a brigade. They served
throughout the war in other brigades and divisions, but no
longer continued to act as one organization.

The cause of Southern independence has gone down in blood.
These men and their compeers had elected to tiy their cause in
the tribunal of last resort, the forum of battle. The verdict has
been rendered against them ; there is no expectation, or, perhaps,
wish, for further appeal. Hanson fell mortally wounded at Mur-
fresboro, Helm died at Chickamauga, Thompson was slain on
the very spot of his birth and his infancy in Kentucky, to which
he had returned after three stormy years of absence. Buckner
surrendered his sword, last of all of the commanders of the
South, in the extreme western confines of the Confederacy, and

3O First Kentucky Brigade.

only when the advancing wave of Federal conquest, -after sweep
ing across the face of the continent, had borne to his very feet
the wreck of the nation whose soldier he deemed himself.
Breckinridge, in exile with saddened eyes, strives through the
mists of the great lakes of the north, to catch some glimpse of
the land he loved so fervently and served so faithfully. Of their
less distinguished comrades, hundreds are lying all along the
route of the sad retreat from Bowling Green, consigned to un-
consecrated earth, their requium the sighs of their sorrowing
comrades. Many are resting by the lonely banks of the Ten
nessee and beneath the deep shadows of the tropical foliage of
Baton Rouge. They will sleep none the less tranquilly in their
quiet and unmarked graves because the dear land for whose
deliverance they fought so long and so well, is ground by the
heel of centralized power. Some survive, their mutilated forms
monuments of a heroism which would have illustrated the days
of Bayard or of Coeur de Lion. The memory of neither the
living nor the dead "will be rendered infamous" until the peo
ples of the earth have ceased to honor manliness of spirit, free
dom of thought, and heroism of deeds. Imbued with the loftiest
sentimej^^vhich ever animated the bosoms of men, they went
forth to poverty, to exile, to suffering, to battle, and to death,
for whaflroey believed to be the maintenance of constitutional
liberty and free government.

Selfish ambitions and personal aspirations had no abiding
place in their world. Men bore the firelock and served as sub
alterns, who could, with brilliant genius, have wielded the baton
of Generals. Among them but one ambition existed, who
should most faithfully serve, who should most steadfastly die.
Kentucky has no cause to blush for them. The principles they
upheld had been taught them on her soil ; they are embalmed
in the archives of her Legislatures, enunciated in manifestoes of
her conventions. Wayward though she may deem these chil
dren in the assertion of her rights, they are still her sons. Not
now, perhaps, but in the fulness of coming time, the proud old
mother will, with an eager zeal, gather these her offspring to
rest in the only fitting place, her honored bosom. Not now,
perhaps, but in the coming time, on that monument which she
has erected at her Capital to those who have in the past, and

First Kentucky Brigade. 31

will in the future, serve her, she will inscribe their names and
write beneath them, " these, too, were my children, and died in
what they believed was the defense of my honor." We who
saw the gallant dead shrouded in their gory cerements, await
with calm confidence the coming of that time.

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