Judah P. Benjamin to General Albert Sidney Johnston, February 8, 1862

WAR DEPARTMENT,         

Richmond, February 8, 1862.

General A. SIDNEY JOHNSTON,

Bowling Green:

SIR: The condition of your department in consequence of the largely superior forces of the enemy has filled us with solicitude, and we have used every possible exertion to organize some means for your relief.

With this view the following orders have been issued to-day and the following measures adopted:

1st. We have ordered to Knoxville three Tennessee regiments—Vaughn's, Maney's, and Bate's—the First Georgia Regiment and four regiments from General Bragg's command to be forwarded by him. This will give you in East Tennessee the following force, viz: As above, eight regiments. Add Gillespie's Tennessee, one regiment; Vaughn's North Carolina, one regiment;* one regiment cavalry; Stovall's battalion and another from North Carolina, together one regiment—total, twelve regiments, besides Churchwell's command at Cumberland Gap, the other forces stationed at different passes by General Zollicoffer, and a number of independent companies.

The whole force in East Tennessee will thus amount, as we think, to at least fifteen regiments, and the President desires that you assign the command to General Buckner.

2d. The formation of this new army for Eastern Tennessee will leave General Crittenden's army (augmented by Chalmers' regiment and two or three batteries of field pieces already sent to him) free to act with your center.

Colonel Chalmers will be nominated to-morrow brigadier-general. You might assign a brigade to him at once.

The President thinks it best to break up the army of General Crittenden, demoralized by its defeat, and that you should distribute the forces composing it among other troops. You can form a new command for General Crittenden, connected with your own corps, in such manner as you may deem best.

General Crittenden has demanded a court of inquiry, and it has been ordered; but from all the accounts which now reach us we have no reason to doubt his skill or conduct in his recent movements, and feel convinced that it is not to any fault of his that the disaster at Somerset is to be attributed.

3d. To aid General Beauregard at Columbus I send orders to General Lovell to forward to him at once five or six regiments of his best  troops at New Orleans.

4th. I have sent to Memphis arms for Looney's regiment; to Knoxville 800 percussion muskets; to Colonel Chalmers 800 Enfield rifles for his regiment, and to you 1,200 Enfield rifles. The Enfield rifles will be accompanied by a full supply of fixed ammunition. They form part of a small cargo recently received by us, and of the whole number (6,000) one-third is thus sent to you, besides which we send 1,600 to Van Dom.

5th. We have called on all the States for a levy of men for the war, and think that in very few weeks we shall be able to give you heavy re-enforcements, although we may not be able to arm them with good weapons. But we have another small cargo of Enfield rifles close by, and hope to have some 10,000 or 12,000 safe in port within the next two or three weeks.

I forgot to say that the rifles already received may not reach you for eight or ten days, as they were introduced at a port quite far south.

I am, your obedient servant,

J. P. BENJAMIN,      

Secretary of War.

_______________

*The records show to Vaughn’s North Carolina regiment.  Probably R. B. Vance’s Twenty-ninth North Carolina.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 7 (Serial No. 7), p. 862-3

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: March 20, 1862

The Merrimac is now called the Virginia. I think these changes of names so confusing and so senseless. Like the French “Royal Bengal Tiger,” “National Tiger,” etc. Rue this, and next day Rue that, the very days and months a symbol, and nothing signified.

I was lying on the sofa in my room, and two men slowly walking up and down the corridor talked aloud as if necessarily all rooms were unoccupied at this midday hour. I asked Maum Mary who they were. “Yeadon and Barnwell Rhett, Jr.” They abused the Council roundly, and my husband's name arrested my attention. Afterward, when Yeadon attacked Mr. Chesnut, Mr. Chesnut surprised him by knowing beforehand all he had to say. Naturally I had repeated the loud interchange of views I had overheard in the corridor.

First, Nathan Davis called. Then Gonzales, who presented a fine, soldierly appearance in his soldier clothes, and the likeness to Beauregard was greater than ever. Nathan, all the world knows, is by profession a handsome man.

General Gonzales told us what in the bitterness of his soul he had written to Jeff Davis. He regretted that he had not been his classmate; then he might have been as well treated as Northrop. In any case he would not have been refused a brigadiership, citing General Trapier and Tom Drayton. He had worked for it, had earned it; they had not. To his surprise, Mr. Davis answered him, and in a sharp note of four pages. Mr. Davis demanded from whom he quoted, “not his classmate.” General Gonzales responded, “from the public voice only.” Now he will fight for us all the same, but go on demanding justice from Jeff Davis until he get his dues — at least, until one of them gets his dues, for he means to go on hitting Jeff Davis over the head whenever he has a chance.

“I am afraid,” said I, “you will find it a hard head to crack.” He replied in his flowery Spanish way: “Jeff Davis will be the sun, radiating all light, heat, and patronage; he will not be a moon reflecting public opinion, for he has the soul of a despot; he delights to spite public opinion. See, people abused him for making Crittenden brigadier. Straightway he made him major-general, and just after a blundering, besotted defeat, too.” Also, he told the President in that letter: “Napoleon made his generals after great deeds on their part, and not for having been educated at St. Cyr, or Brie, or the Polytechnique,” etc., etc. Nathan Davis sat as still as a Sioux warrior, not an eyelash moved. And yet he said afterward that he was amused while the Spaniard railed at his great namesake.

Gonzales said: “Mrs. Slidell would proudly say that she was a Creole. They were such fools, they thought Creole meant—” Here Nathan interrupted pleasantly: “At the St. Charles, in New Orleans, on the bill of fare were ‘Creole eggs.’ When they were brought to a man who had ordered them, with perfect simplicity, he held them up, ‘Why, they are only hens' eggs, after all.’ What in Heaven's name he expected them to be, who can say?” smiled Nathan the elegant.

One lady says (as I sit reading in the drawing-room window while Maum Mary puts my room to rights): “I clothe my negroes well. I could not bear to see them in dirt and rags; it would be unpleasant to me.” Another lady: “Yes. Well, so do I. But not fine clothes, you know. I feel — now — it was one of our sins as a nation, the way we indulged them in sinful finery. We will be punished for it.”

Last night, Mrs. Pickens met General Cooper. Madam knew General Cooper only as our adjutant-general, and Mr. Mason's brother-in-law. In her slow, graceful, impressive way, her beautiful eyes eloquent with feeling, she inveighed against Mr. Davis's wickedness in always sending men born at the North to command at Charleston. General Cooper is on his way to make a tour of inspection there now. The dear general settled his head on his cravat with the aid of his forefinger; he tugged rather more nervously with the something that is always wrong inside of his collar, and looked straight up through his spectacles. Some one crossed the room, stood back of Mrs. Pickens, and murmured in her ear, “General Cooper was born in New York.” Sudden silence.

Dined with General Cooper at the Prestons. General Hampton and Blanton Duncan were there also; the latter a thoroughly free-and-easy Western man, handsome and clever; more audacious than either, perhaps. He pointed to Buck — Sally Buchanan Campbell Preston. “What's that girl laughing at?” Poor child, how amazed she looked. He bade them “not despair; all the nice young men would not be killed in the war; there would be a few left. For himself, he could give them no hope; Mrs. Duncan was uncommonly healthy.” Mrs. Duncan is also lovely. We have seen her.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 148-50

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, January 24, 1862

CAMP PIERPONT, VA., January 24, 1862.

The mysterious movements of the Burnside expedition puzzle me very much. It has now been about ten days, and yet we have no reliable information of its whereabouts. The victory in Kentucky² was certainly very important in its results, and if the Confederate Army of the Potomac do not fight better than Zollicoffer's army, we ought to be victorious. For ten thousand men to run as they did, after losing only one hundred and fifty killed, is more disgraceful than the behavior of our troops at Bull Run. At Ball's Bluff, though we were overpowered by superior numbers, yet our men behaved with great gallantry.

__________

² Battle of Mill Springs, Kentucky, January 19, 1862. The Federal troops under Brigadier-General George H. Thomas defeated the Confederate troops under General G. B. Crittenden, led by General F. K. Zollicoffer. Federal loss, killed, wounded, and missing, 194 (O. R.).

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 243

Zollicoffer's Defeat

Vivid Description of the Battle Field.

(Correspondence Cincinnati Commercial.)

A Ride to the Battle – The Battle Ground – Scenes on the Battle Field – Pursuit of the Enemy – The Rebel Camp – The Property Taken – One Hundred and Ninety Rebels Buried.

Having seen many accounts of the battle of Webb’s Cross Roads, (variously called the battle of Fishing Creek, Old Fields, Somerset, and Mill Springs,) it would seem hardly necessary to chronicle any further relative to it.  But as this is the first battle field I visited before the dead and wounded were removed, I feel disposed to make a note of some of my experiences connected with it.

During two weeks prior to the engagement, I was at Somerset, attending to some business matters for the Twelfth Kentucky Regiment. – All this time, much anxiety was felt by the forces under General Thomas, so that an advance could be made upon the fortified position of Zollicoffer, at Mill Springs.  The welcome tidings finally reached us Friday morning, Jan. 17th, that Gen. Thomas was at Webb’s Cross Roads, seven and a half miles west, or south west of Somerset, with 6,000 men and, before 11 o’clock a. m., Schoepff’s brigade was under way to join them.  The difficulties of that march through rain and mud, have been better described by those who were in it than I can do it.  That Zollicoffer would come out of his entrenchments and attack our forces was entirely unexpected – consequently no battle was looked for this side of his position at Mill Springs.

Early on Sunday morning, January 19th, we heard the roar of cannon beyond fishing creek, which betokened a battle.  Like many younger men I felt “eager for the fray.”  Lieut. Colonel Howard, of the Kentucky 12th, being confined to his bed by sickness, I mounted his well known charger, “Nelly Gray,” and went to fill his place, or rather to try.  The distance from Somerset to the Salt works on Fishing Creek, where we crossed, is five miles.  The mud, a kind of reddish clay and very soft, was from six inches to half as many feet in depth.  I fell in with a squadron of Wolford’s Cavalry, escorting six caissons of ammunition, each caisson being drawn by eight horses, driven by for riders.  There were also in the company thirty six relief horses in harness, for Standart’s Battery, which was already on the ground.  To see this train in motion while the horses were pressed to the top of their speed, could be compared to nothing better than a wild tornado, accompanied by a halt a dozen whirlwinds playing with the mud as though it were the chaff of a threshing floor, obscuring at times the caissons, horses and riders.  The cavalcade reached the high bank overlooking Fishing Creek, in about twenty minutes from Somerset, and came to a halt.  The Creek was so high that it was said it could not be forded or at least the ammunition would be spoiled in passing through.  In addition to this a frightened wagon-master reported that Zollicoffer’s forces had got between our army and the Creek and thus cut off supplies and reinforcements from Somerset.  During these few moments of suspense, and while the fire of artillery seemed to be increasing I rode down the long steep hill to the water’s edge, determined to cross at all hazards.

While calculating my chances in one of the strongest currents I ever saw forded, a gentle man upon a powerful strong-limbed horse rode up and gave it as his opinion that the creek could be forded.  Being more excited that I was he plunged into the stream.  Without waiting to see how he “came out,” and knowing that mortal horse could not do more than “Nelly Gray,” I followed.  We made the opposite shore in safety.  By this time the whole cavalcade (excepting caissons) had reached the creek, and in a few minutes passed safely over.  We halted with the cavalry in front of widow Campbell’s house (secesh), and sent forward a reconnoitering party.  Soon one of the party returned and reported the road clear.  The distance from Fishing Creek to Webb’s Cross Roads, where our forces had bivouacked the night before the battle, is two and a half miles.  We had made about two miles of this distance, when the artillery ceased firing and soon after we met a man riding furiously down the hill. – When we succeeded in bringing him to a halt, he told us Zollicoffer was dead and his army in full retreat.  This man was hardly recognized by his old acquaintances, for his naked, sparkling eye balls seemed to be the only two spots about him not covered with mud.  It was Dr. Hale.  When he had told us his story, on he flew to tell it to other persecuted Union men.  Zollicoffer is slain, his forces are overthrown, scattered and destroyed!  We are again free!  Men, women and children shouted and even wept for joy.  At that moment I did not wait to moralize for while Dr. Hale was spreading the glad tidings in one direction, Nelly Gray had anticipated the cavalcade in the other, and was first on the battle field.  My first inquiry was for the Kentucky 12th, but no one could tell me where they were, or what party they had taken in the action.  Only one dead man had been brought in.  The body laid upon the ground in front of one of the Minnesota tents surrounded by some twenty soldiers.  It had been stripped of all clothing except the pants and two soldiers were busy in washing off the mud with which it had been covered.  It was almost as white and transparent as the most delicate wax work.  The fatal wound was in the breast, and was evidently made with a pistol ball as it could be easily covered with the end of my finger.  There was another wound upon the inside of his right arm, above the elbow, and still another glancing wound a little above his hip.  This was Zollicoffer!  He whose name had so long been a terror to men who loved their country on the banks of the Cumberland.  With some doubts at the time in my mind as to whether this was really the body of the rebel chief, I turned away to visit the field of battle.

The hospital tents had been hastily pitched in a small open field at the cross roads and along the edge of the woods skirting the south side of this field were the first marks of the storm of destruction which had waged so fearfully an hour before.  Nearly through the middle of the field is the road leading to Mill Springs, in a south or southwesterly direction.  I entered the woods on the east side of this road.  All along the edge of the open field lay the bodies of four or five of our men.  As I advanced into the woods the marks of cannon shot could be seen on every side, but I saw none of these marks nearer than twenty feet from the ground nor did I see a dead or wounded man who had been struck with a cannon shot, Dr. Cliffe, Zollicoffer’s brigade surgeon, afterwards told me that among all their wounded, so far as they had come in, only one had been injured by artillery and he had lost his arm.  Passing through the woods from the first open field, a distance of nearly half a mile, we reached another open, half cleared field on the left of the road.  In this field there stands some deadened timber, many large stumps and trees, some of the latter having been cut down, and some fallen from decay.  In this field the ground is quite steep, with a southern descent to near the center of the field, and then rises as rapidly till you reach the woods on the south.  In the eastern part of this field is a log house and a barn and an apple orchard.  Eighty five dead rebels lay in this field, which by way of distinction, I will call the “old field.”  Further on and to the right of the road is the cornfield where the brave Indiana 10th suffered so severely.  In the woods and along the road the scene was dreadful. – One body was placed in a sitting posture with the back leaning against a tree, the hands crossed in his lap, his eyes partially open and lips slightly parted.  The ball had entered his left breast just above the region of the heart.  Another laid upon his side with the head and arms thrown back, the ball had cut away a part of his skull over his left eye.

Among a score or more of our own noble dead, I saw not one badly mangled body, like those which I saw at Vienna.  And I loved, also, to fancy at least, that I saw clearly stamped upon each cold face a clam and holy satisfaction in pouring out their blood in a noble cause – to save from ruin the land of our fathers.  There are mothers, wives and sisters, who would gladly have braved the leaden hailstorm of the battle field, to minister to the dying soldier.  Let such console themselves – that death is a common lot, and far more preferable in any form, to life in a land of despotism and anarchy.  The cause in which your husband, brothers and sons have fallen is not a cause of wickedness and oppression, but of truth, freedom and right.  The fields of Kentucky have been freshly watered with hallowed blood, and the pirates are being hunted from her borders.  My own brave boy was either among the slain or pursuing the flying foe.  In which of these positions I might find him, I know not.  I could possibly enjoy no higher honor than in the sacrifice of all I held dear, for the salvation of my country.  With all the anxieties common to parents, I searched for his well known countenance among the slain.  So close was the resemblance in many cases that my pulse quickened and my brain began to reel.  I remembered that he wore a pair of boots of peculiar make, and before I dared to let my eyes rest upon the face, there was a mark –  not on his.  I passed on in haste, but suddenly felt compelled to stop once more, against a tree, leaned back in the more classic composure was the fairest and most beautiful countenance I ever saw in death.  No female complexion could be more spotless.  The silky locks of wavy auburn hair fell in rich profusion, upon fair temples and a faultless forehead.  Some friendly hand had parted his garments, bearing his breast, from which the read current of life flowed out, and had bathed his temples, which were still warm but had ceased to throb forever.  O, ye winds, bear these tidings softly to the loved ones at home.

Among the wounded of our men, it was really comforting to see with what patient heroism they bore their pains.  I said to one poor fellow, with a shattered leg, “you must be in great pain, can I do anything for you?”  He said, “There are others worse off than me, when they are carried in, you can tell them where I am if you please.”  Another man had a ball through his right hand, breaking two of the bones.  He had done it up himself with a wet bandage and with his other hand was carrying one corner of a stretcher, with a wounded man, carrying another corner of the same stretcher, was a man with his head and face covered with blood.  He said he was not hurt at all, he had only lost a large piece of his hat and a small piece of his scalp.

In the “old fields” among the rebels some of the scenes were horrid and revolting in the extreme.  A large number of the dead were shot in the head.  One was shot directly in the eye and the brain was oozing from the wound.  Five dead and one wounded lay behind one log, all but the wounded one were shot in the head.  One rebel had a ball through his neck which destroyed the power of speech – though I don’t think his wound was mortal.  Several of the dead were old and gray headed men.  A dark complexioned man with a heavy black beard, who said he was from Mississippi was lying on the ground with a broken thigh.  He was stern and sullen – he had only one favor to ask – that was that some one of us would kill him.  I said to him we will soon take you to the surgeon and do all we can to relieve you for we are satisfied you have been deceived by wicked men, and do not know what you have been doing.  To which he meekly replied – that is possible.  A younger man, quite a boy, begged me not to let the Lincolnites kill him.  An elderly man sat with his back against a stump with a ball directly through the center of the head at the base of the brain.  There was a ghastly grin upon his countenance, his eyes were stretched widely open and staring wildly into vacancy while his breath was rapid, deep and heavy.  His was a living death for he was senseless.  A lad of fourteen with a mashed ankle, protested his innocence and begged to be taken care of.  He said he had never fired a gun at a Union man and never would.  Numbers of rebels made in effect the same declaration.

I left these fields of human suffering with feelings such as I never before experienced. – The freshness of death seemed to fill the whole atmosphere.  It was a scene which a man needs only to look upon once in his life time in order to occupy all his power of reflection.  Following the wake of our victorious and pursuing army the road, adjoining the fields and woods, were strewn with blankets, knapsacks, haversacks, hats, boots, shoes, guns, cartridge boxes, broken wagons, &c., as perfect a scene of destruction as can well be imagined.

When I left on Thursday evening Col. Hoskins told me the captured horses and mules would probably reach 2,000.  Prisoners were being brought in in little squads, and Capt. Alexander, of Wolford’s cavalry reported that he had 200 penned up in the rocks two miles below their camp.  Crittenden’s entire force (except himself) consisting of about 2,000 men, are supposed to be on this side of the river.

I returned from the rebel camp in company with Dr. Straw and his prisoner, Dr. D. B. Cliffe, of Franklin, Tenn., Zollicoffer’s brigade Surgeon.  Dr. Cliffe seems much of a gentleman and claims to be a Union man.  He says he had to enlist or quit the country, but he had never taken the oath of allegiance to the Southern Confederacy.  He confirmed the news of the death of Zollicoffer, and cut several sticks and limbs, as mementoes from near the place where he fell.  Besides Dr. Cliffe, I saw several other prisoners who seem to be gentlemen, but the mass of them were rough hard unpolished subjects – just such a set as one would be likely to judge “fit for treason, stratagem and spoils.”

I have only noted such items as came under my own observation and comparatively only a few of them.  The order of battle and acts of personal bravery will be better told by those who witnessed them.  Lieut. E. G. Jacobs told me he saw a Minnesotian coolly advance from the ranks some distance, and placing his rifle by the side of a tree take a long and deliberate aim toward the old log house, when a rebel head which had been peering from behind the corner of the house was suddenly discovered to have a body attached to it by its pitching at full length from the end of the house.  I found seven dead bodies in this old building who must have been killed by close shooting between the logs.  When I left 190 rebels had been buried in the old field, and many more still in the woods.  Thirty eight of our own men had been buried in the first field near the tents.

C. T.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 4

From Fortress Monroe

Nothing heard of the Burnside Expedition – Rebel Account of the Defeat in Kentucky.

FORTRESS MONROE, Jan. 25. – The storm is now over.  Several rebel officers from Baltimore went by flag of truce to Craney Island.

A dispatch from Knoxville says that General Crittenden retired to and will make a stand at Monticello.

The Norfolk Day Book of Saturday has not a word about the Burnside expedition.  An extract is given from the Newbern Progress of Thursday last, which says, up to yesterday (Wednesday) we are not sure there is or has been a single Yankee gunboat over the swash at Hatteras.

The defeat in Kentucky is at last admitted.  The Day Book has a heading, “Further Particulars from Somerset.  Disaster not so bad as first reported.”  “Six hundred Confederates attack 14,000 Federals!”

The Petersburg Express sends us the following: –

General Crittenden began the attack on the enemy, supposed to number 1,500 afterwards found to be 14,000.  Zollicoffer was killed early in action.  Crittenden was wounded.  Colonel [Corral] took command and recrossed the Cumberland.  Our loss, 300, enemy’s 400 or 500.  Rutledge’s and McClerny’s batteries left on the field.  The enemy repulsed three times and then fled back to their fortification.  They then outflanked us.  We lost all our horses, tents, equipments, and eleven guns spiked or thrown into the river.  Colonels Powell, Battie, Stahn and Cummings wounded.  Major Fobb wounded in hip.  Our forces numbered 6,000.

It was reported in Norlfolk that the Federal steamer Louisiana was lost.

The Day Book has an article from the Charleston Mercury giving the particulars of the capture of Cedar Key.  Three schooners and five fishing smacks were loading with lumber and turpentine at the time.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 4

The Late Somerset Battle

The battle, unlike the most of the war, grows larger the more that is known of it.  One hundred and ninety two dead bodies of the rebels were buried up to Tuesday night, and they were still found thick in the woods.  It was first supposed that the forces engaged were about equal, but it is now known that the enemy outnumbered us two to one.  The regiments under Gen. Thomas’s command at the time of the fight were the 10th Indiana, 4th and 12th Kentucky, 2d Minnesota, 9th and 14th Ohio, and 1st and 2d East Tennessee Regiments.  These eight regiments could not bring at the utmost over six thousand men onto the field and of these only about one half were actually engaged in the combat.  The consolidated morning report of the troops at Mill Spring last Friday has been found.  Crittenden had under him at that time and there, one thousand three hundred and twenty two men sick, and fourteen thousand two hundred and six men fit for duty.  And by papers found on the person of Gen. Zollicoffer, it appears that two new regiments reported for duty at Mill Spring on Saturday, the 18th.  The testimony of all the intelligent prisoners whom we took is to the effect that the whole force moved from their camp to the attack on Sunday, except a small guard on the north side, and “White’s old regiment,” a shattered and demoralized body of men on the south side of the river.  Not less than fifteen thousand men marched out to give battle as they supposed, to three regiments of Union troops.

It must not be thought however, that this large force was at all available to Crittenden. – A great proportion of it, perhaps one half, was the raw drafted levies of two months’ men, lately raised in Tennessee.  They have been coming to Crittenden in squads from one to five hundred for weeks.  Just organized into regiments, and armed principally with shotguns, they could not be supposed to add much to the strength of the rebel army and in case of such a panic as occurred were an element of positive weakness.  And they were even further useless because they had no hearts for a fight against the Union.  One of them coming near our lines rushed across to us, exclaiming “I am a Union man,” and immediately commenced firing on his late comrades!  We understand that there were about 10,000 of such troops at Knoxville.  We mean to carry guns to them and make them our first soldiers from their party of the country!

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 3

Rebel News From Richmond

BALTIMORE, Jan 28. – The Richmond Dispatch of yesterday has the following:

New [Berne], North Carolina, is in a ferment of excitement in expectation of an attack in that quarter.  The town is under martial law and every preparation is being made.

(Later from Mill Creek.)

Gen. Crittenden and his staff are safe and unwounded.  General Carroll and staff are safe.  Our loss is reported at 300 killed.  The enemy’s loss is supposed to be twice this number.

Nashville, Jan. 24, via Mobile 25. – The most reliable information of the engagement at or near Somerset is that only two regiments. Col. Buttle’s Tennessee and Col. Statham’s Mississippi, were engaged in the fight near Mill Springs.

Fort Henry is still safe – the enemy for some reason having withdrawn from its immediate vicinity.  The shots of the gun boats were not replied to from the Fort, which will be held at all hazards.

Paris was in a perfect ferment of excitement yesterday.  Many anticipating an immediate descent of the enemy, which they deemed themselves utterly powerless to resist, were preparing to leave their negroes and other property.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 2

Zollicoffer’s Defeat

Interesting Account by an Eye-Witness

We cut the following letter from a Cincinnati paper.  It is a spirited account of the battle.

ZOLLICOFFER’S (LATE) ENCAMPMENT,

January 20, 1862

Here I am in a cedar log cabin, inside the intrenchments of the wonderful position of old “Zolly,” to write you a letter, on contraband paper, with a contraband pen and contraband ink.  Where shall I begin – what shall I write first.  There are incidents enough, if all recounted, to fill a volume, things that took place in this, the most complete victory, and the most overwhelming, total overthrow the Secession army has yet met with in this rebellion.  To begin at the beginning, and tell the story straight.

Just at day break on Sunday morning, the 19th of January, sharp firing commenced with the pickets in the same spot where the firing was last Friday night, the long roll beat in Indiana 10th, and they formed instantly and marched to the support of their pickets.  The 10th and Kinney’s battery were close together, and a half a mile in advance of everything.  The battery got ready for action on the instant and awaited orders.  By the way, Stannard’s battery and Wetmore’s four gun battery were both in park, one on each side of Kinney’s battery.  The 1st Tennessee was about a quarter mile in the rear of these batteries, in the woods.  The 4th Kentucky, Col. Fry, was the next regiment on the road, half a mile in the rear of the batteries, it was forming as I ran past, getting to my own regiment, (for I slept in Kinney’s battery), the 2nd Tennessee another quarter of a mile in the rear of the 4th Kentucky.  By this time the cavalry were running their horses all over the country, in every direction – except towards the firing, which still continued at intervals.  The 2d was just getting breakfast, and supposing it to be only a Picket fight, kept on cooking and eating though very few had eaten anything when the column of our forces appeared coming on in our rear.  Lieutenant Colonel Trewhit promptly got us into line and double-quicked us into the road ahead of the advancing column, the 4th Kentucky had gone when we reached their encampment.  The firing still continued, and very briskly, we kept on at double-quick, all hoping and believing that we would have a chance to smell burnt powder.  But when opposite the encampment of the 10th Indiana, up rode the Colonel, and halted us for further orders, we all thought – if we didn’t say it – d---n further orders.

The 10th Indiana went into the woods about a quarter of a mile in advance of their tents to the support of their pickets and bravely did they support them, too, for over half an hour against the whole force led against them and never retreated a step, nor gave an inch of ground, until nearly surrounded by overwhelming number then, to save themselves from being entirely surrounded, they unwillingly gave way.  Here was a crisis and yell on yell went up from the lantern jawed Secessionists, they thought the day was all their own.  But happily, any disastrous consequence was prevented by the arrival of the 4th Kentucky and 9th Ohio to the support of the gallant 10th.  Again our men made a stand, now there was fighting in good earnest and the 2d Minnesota joined win with the 10th and the 4th and the 9th Ohio. – Volley after volley rattled in quick succession, and sometimes it seemed as though there was only one continuous volley, interrupted now and then by the growling of the “yellow pups,” which had been brought to bear on the enemy and when they once commenced, they distributed their favors freely in all directions, in the shape of shot and shell and, gentlemen excuse me from being the recipient of such favors. – There were only two or three shots from cannon fired by the enemy, and they were either badly armed or the pieces were out of range, for the shot did not disturb anybody.  Once they threw a shell into the air which burst when some four or five hundred feet high.  No damage was done by it, and their artillery seemed to be of no use to them whatever, while on the contrary ours seemed to be of immense use to us, and was most ably and effectively handled.  After a little more than two hours of hard fighting, a most tremendous volley of musketry followed by a ringing about from our side seemed to have decided the battle in our favor for from that time, although firing was kept up at intervals, the secessionists, whipped and cowed, began their retreat, which in about twenty minutes more became a total rout, and from the indications along the road which we afterwards passed over, the flight appeared to have been a regular race from that point back to their intrenchments to see who could get there first, and the devil take the hindmost.

All the credit and honor of this battle is due to the 10th Indiana, the 9th Ohio, the 4th Kentucky and 2d Minnesota.  For they did all the fighting, as it were, single handed, with the exception of what support they received from the artillery.  They all fought nobly, and judging from the sound of the musketry they never wavered from a fixed determination to gain the victory, and they did gain it.  The combatants where so near to each other at one time, that the powder burned their faces in the discharge of their pieces, but the underbrush was so thick that bayonets were of but little use, and a charge could hardly have been made.

The most important event of the day was the death of Zollicoffer.  Col. Fry, of the 4th Kentucky, charged up a hill by himself upon a group of mounted officers, and fired at one he conceived to be the chief among them, he fired two shots, both of them took effect, and Zollicoffer, one of the master spirits of the rebellion, fell off his horse dead.  Col. Fry was, luckily unhurt, but his horse was shot through the body, the bullet entering only a few inches behind the Colonel’s leg.  This must have been a deadener to all hopes of the secessionists had for victory, as from this moment began the retreat, and so closely did our forces push upon them that they were obliged to leave their illustrious leader where he fell, by the side of the road.

What were the East Tennesseans doing during all this engagement with their boasted bravery?  The 1st Regiment I know but little about, except that it marched towards the edge of the woods in which the firing was going on, and disappeared from sight.  As a regiment they did not fire a gun, but Lieutenant Colonel Spears who is a whole team and horse to let some way got in ahead of his men and where the fighting was, he shot a few times with his revolver, and turned round to see where his men where, when he perceived an officer in between him and where his regiment ought to be, evidently trying to cut him off.  But the officer – who turned out to be Lieutenant-Colonel Carter – waked up the wrong passenger when he got after Spears, and the tables were turned, for instead of cutting Col. Spears off, the Colonel took him prisoner and brought him back into the regiment.  The 2d Tennessee went through various sundry evolutions, they were marched and counter marched, right-obliqued and left-obliqued, right-faced and left-faced, and brought up all standing in a briar patch.

Well, finally we were formed in a line of battle, out of all harm’s way, and remained so until the firing was nearly all over, when we were double-quicked to the edge of the woods, and halted again, until the firing receded and died away entirely.

It is needless to comment upon the conduct of the Tennesseans, to say that they could have done or would have done under other circumstances.  Here is the fact what they did do, and that was simply nothing.  As to the rest, the future will decide.

Our course was now steadily forward to the main road that led to Zollicoffer’s encampment on the Cumberland.  I shall not attempt to describe the battlefield, the dead or the dying. – Of course, in all battles somebody must be killed, and somebody must be wounded, this was no exception to the general rule.  I shall mention only one of the dead – that one Zollicoffer.  He lay by the side of the road along which we all passed, and all had a fair view of what was once Zollicoffer.  I saw the lifeless body as it lay in a fence corner by the side of the road, but Zollicoffer himself is now in hell.  Hell is a fitting abode for such arch traitors!  May all the other chief conspirators in the rebellion soon share Zollicoffer’s fate – shot dead through the instrumentality of an avenging God – Their spirits sent straitway to hell, and their lifeless bodies lay in a fence corner, their faces spattered with mud, and their garments divided up, and even the hair of their head cut off and pulled out by an unsympathizing soldiery of a conquering army, battling for the right!

The March was now steadily but cautiously forward.  Two pieces of artillery were taken, one was crippled in the woods near the battle ground, and the other was stuck in the mud about a mile in the rear; also two wagons with ammunition.  No incident worth mentioning occurred on the march, which was deliberately but steadily forward, with the artillery well up, until a final halt was made, about half past four, within a mile of the breastworks of the famous fortifications on the Cumberland which have been reported impregnable.  Here the artillery was again planted, and set to work shelling the wonderful fortifications; and a continuous fire was kept up for nearly an hour.  Every shell that was thrown we could hear burst distinctly.  There was only one cannon that answered us from the breastworks, and that one sounded more like a potato pop-gun than anything else I can liken it to, and did us no damage, as the shot never reached us.  The one piece was only [fired four times. Night closed in and the firing] ceased. We all lay down on the wet ground, in perfect security, to rest our weary limbs, the distance we had come being over ten miles on the direct road, let alone the bushes and underbrush we went through, to say nothing about two or three dress-parades of the 2d for somebody's amusement, but not our own, I can assure you. And then the roads and fields were awfully cut up, and mud was plenty, as it had rained a good part of the forenoon. Our men lay down to rest without a mouthful to eat, many of whom had eaten no breakfast, but as Captain Cross said, “the man who could not fast two days over Zollicoffer's scalp, was no man at all;” and there was no grumbling, as there was necessity for it. However, the teams came up in the night with crackers and bacon.

Now here is the summary, so far as I know, up to Sunday night we were within a mile of Zollicoffer’s encampment, Zollicoffer is licked and his forces have been whipped – some two hundred of them being killed and a great many wounded, one of Crittenden’s Aids, a Lieutenant Colonel and three Surgeons are taken prisoners, but now many more I know not, two pieces of artillery and tree wagons were left, and the roads were strewed with guns, blankets, coats, haversacks and everything else that impeded flight, on our side from 20 to 30 are killed and from 80 to 100 wounded, having no prisoners taken that we know of.

On the morning of the 20th, soon after day light, several of the regiments were moved forward toward the breastworks, and a cannon ball or two fired over into them, but no answer was made, all was quiet.  The regiment moved steadily on and into their fortifications, it being ascertained that there was no one to oppose them.  The enemy having crossed the river during the night, or early in the morning, the rout was complete.  It seems as though there was a perfect panic among them, their tents having been left standing, and their blankets, clothes, cooking utensils, letters, papers, etc, all left behind.  The position is a pretty strong one, but not near so much so as we had been led to suppose. – Huts were built, nicely chinked with mud, many of them having windows in them for comfortable winter quarters.  How much work the devils have done here and how little it has profited them!  I have been wandering around all day, seeing and hearing what I could.  The Cumberland makes one side of the encampment safe, by an abrupt bank 250 feet high.  I went down to the river bottom, to which there is a road on our side.  Here were all or nearly all of their wagons, some twelve or fifteen hundred horses and mules, harness, saddles, sabres, guns, in fact, everything.  It was a complete stampede, and by far the most disastrous defeat the Southern Confederacy has yet met with.  Ten pieces of cannon, with caissons are also here.  To all appearances, they seem to have completely lost their senses, having only one object in view, and that was to run somewhere and hide themselves.

Now, to account for the battle taking place as it did.  There were 11 rebel regiments here, two being unarmed, and Zollicoffer, who was the presiding devil, although Crittenden and taken the command, thought the 10th Indiana and Kenney’s battery were just two regiments by themselves, and did not know that they were supported by the balance of the division, which was out of sight behind on account of the timber, and he conceived the happy idea of rushing upon and capturing these two regiments to get their arms to supply his own unarmed men.  So he took all the available force he had – some 8,000 or 9,000 men – and made the attack – with what result has already been shown.  Now this only goes to prove that, in order to put this rebellion down we must do something.  In this fight four of our regiments whipped and completely routed the great army that was under Zollicoffer, killed the devil himself, and maybe Crittenden too, for he has not been heard of since the battle.  The prisoners we have taken estimate our force at 20,000, bah!  We can take them any time and any place, and giving them the odds 3 to 1, whip them every time.  Their cause is a bad one, they know it, and the only way their men can be induced to fight at all, is by their leaders getting in the very front rank with them.

The 2d Minnesota, captured a banner from the Mississippi regiment, which had on it the “Mississippi Butchers.”  They may be good butchers at home, but they make a mighty awkward fist at butchering Yankees.  They and better go home and tend to their business.  Nearly every man has a trophy of this victory, there are plenty to get, certain, and I am writing this now with a Louisiana Zouave head dress and tassel on my head.

I give you a copy of two or three of the documents we found in the camp.  The following was found on a table in one of the cabins:

“COL. SPEARS – We fought bravely and desperately, but misguidedly.  We leave here under pressing circumstances, but do not feel that we are whipped.  We will yet succeed, and –”

Here the circumstances became so pressing that the writer did not want to finish the epistle.  Colonel Spears supposes the writer to be Major John W. Bridgman, of the Tennessee Cavalry.

The following was written on a piece of brown paper, with a pencil:

“JAN 19th, 1862.  FISHING CREEK.

The great battle at Fishing Creek took place.  Our loss was great.  Supposed to be eight hundred killed and wounded, and a great many taken prisoners.  We will try them again at our breastworks if they come to us.”

At the bottom of the paper, upside down is a name I cannot make out, and then Polasky.

Here as another paper which is evidently the result of a council of war, held before the force came across on the north side of the Cumberland.

“The result of your crossing the river now, will be that you will be repulsed and lose all the artillery taken over.

ESTILL.”

Dec. 14th, ’61.

“Another ‘Wild Cat’ disaster is all we can look forward to.

FULKERSON.”

“We will cross over and find that the enemy has retired to a place that we will not deem advisable to attack, and then we will return to this encampment.

LORING.”

Estill is a Colonel from Middle Tennessee. – Fulkerson is a Major, and one of the big heads of the Secession party in Tennessee.  It seems there was opposition in the camp to the move on to this side of the river, but old Zollicoffer, the head devil of the army, ruled the roost and did come over.  Some of these predictions proved to be strictly true, it did turn out to be a “Wild Cat” disaster, only worse, and they did lose all their artillery, and more than all, the old he devil Zollicoffer lost his life.  The route has been complete and total.  His whole force is entirely scattered, and if the victory is followed up across the river, they will never rally together again.

It is now nearly three o’clock in the morning while I write, and with a few reflections this already long letter – perhaps too long – shall be closed.

What a lucky thing that Zollicoffer was bold enough to attack our force, had he not done so, no battle would have been fought here for a long time.  And this victory cannot be credited to the skill of a Brigadier General.  The battle was entirely accidental, the position was entirely a chance position, and the men themselves, led by their Colonels fought the battle and won it.  The 10th Indiana got into the fight supporting their pickets, the 4th Kentucky and 9th Ohio rushed in, without orders, to support the 10th.  Whether the 2d Minnesota had orders to go in or not, I do not know. – And these four regiments did all the fighting that was done, and that was enough to whip the eight regiments Zollicoffer had in the engagement.  If these Brigadier Generals must be paid big wages by the Government, why just pay it to them and let them stay at home, for they are no earthly use among us.  Let the men go ahead and wind up this war, it can be done in two months.  Secret – do something.

Would that some abler pen could give you a full and complete account of this rout.  I considered it my duty to do my best in an attempt to describe it, but it has been hurriedly written – with a willing but weary hand, so excuse the confused parts of the letter.

FELIX.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 1, 1862, p. 1

Parson Brownlow In Cincinnati

His Straight Out Union Speech

__________

Parson Brownlow, of East Tennessee, accompanied by his son, arrived in this city yesterday, and took quarters at the Gibson House.  At 9 o’clock the Union Committee met him in the ladies’ parlor, and he was welcomed by Pollock Wilson, Esq., who alluded with emotion to the services of Brownlow in the cause of the Union, and his heroic endurance of persecution.  The Parson was much moved by the cordiality of his reception, and commenced speaking with a stammering voice, and eyes filled with tears.  He had been for Clay in 1836, for Harrison in 1840, for Webster in 1856, for Bell and Everett in 1860.  Speaking of Bell always reminded him of “pity the sorrows of a poor old man.”  He (the Parson) had never had any sympathy with secessionists.  He had been offered large bribes to sustain the rebellion; but though he was a poor man he was not for sale.  He gave an account of his correspondence with Judah P. Benjamin, all of which he had preserved and would publish in his forthcoming book.  He could not express the joy he felt in finding the old Union flag at Nashville.  When the army went to East Tennessee he wanted to go along.  It was in Fremont’s Department and he was glad of it.  Fremont was his sort of a man, and he wanted to go with him to East Tennessee.  There had been a great deal of hanging on one side, and he wished to superintend it on the other.  He could say, and without profanity, that the Federal army in East Tennessee would be hailed with a joy only equaled by the hosannahs of the angels when Christ was born.

He never had any sympathy with Disunionists, Secessionists or Abolitionists.  He was born in Virginia, and his parents before him.  He is a slaveholder, but he had no hesitancy in saying that when the question comes, as it will, “the Union and no slavery,” against “slavery and no Union,” he was for the Union and let slavery go to the dogs, or where else it may be sent.  He was for the Union above that or any other institution.

The wicked rebellion, he felt confident, was on its last legs.  It is almost played out.  When the rebel Crittenden’s army passed him, the men were literally barefooted and almost naked.

The blockade has played sad havoc with them.  They were preparing to make a desperate fight at Corinth.  If whipped there, their cause was gone.  He hoped they would be pursued through the cotton States to the peninsula, and then driven into the sea, as were the devils driven from the hogs into the sea of Galilee.

The nigger never was in this rebellion.  He was never intended to be.  Other causes had produced it, but the guilty were reaping their reward.

After the reception the Parson took an airing with some gentlemen, driving through Clifton and other attractive suburbs of the city.

He visited with the Merchant’s Exchange, where he was introduced to the merchants by President Butler, and spoke for perhaps half an hour.  He showed plainly the marks of the hard times through which he has passed.  He is very thin, and his face is haggard, bloodless and deeply marked with suffering and anxiety.  He is, however, one of that race of tall, hardy, swarthy, black haired East Tennesseans, who gave Tennessee her old time glory as the Volunteer State, and were foremost in the battles of Andrew Jackson, and with proper care he will soon recover his health.

He gave a touching narrative of his sufferings in prison, of his illness, and the care with which the guards placed over him were doubled, when he was so sick he could not turn in bed without assistance.  The jail was crowded with Union men.  Many sickened and perished miserably in it, and others were taken out and hung.  Gen. Carroll, of the Confederate army, who was at one time a great friend of his, being a Union man until a late period, visited him in Jail, and said to him: “Brownlow, you ought not to be here.”  “So I think,” the parson responded, “but here I am.”  The General said the Confederate Court was sitting within a hundred yards of the jail, and if he would take the oath of allegiance, he should be immediately liberated.  “Sir,” said the parson, looking at him steadily in the eye, “before I will take the oath of allegiance to your bogus Government, I will rot in jail or die here of old age.  I don’t acknowledge you have a Court.  I don’t acknowledge you have a Government.  It has never been acknowledged by any power on earth and never will be.  Before I would take the oath I would see the whole Southern Confederacy in the infernal regions, and you on top of it!”

The General indignantly left the jail, remarking “that is d----d plain talk.”  “Yes, sir-ee,” said the Parson, “I am a plain man, and them’s my sentiments.”  Frequently men were taken out of the jail and hung, and the secesh rabble would howl at him and tell him as he looked out from the jail windows that he was to be hung next.  He told them from those windows that he was ready to go to the gallows, and all he asked was one hour’s talk to the people before he was swung off, that he might give them his opinion of the mob called the Southern Confederacy.  The Parson said he expected to be hanged.  He had made up his mind to it.   At one time he was tried by court martial, and in the decision of his case he was within one vote of being sentenced to hang.  There was nothing between him and the gallows but the will of one man, and him a secessionist.  Great God, on what a slender thread hung everlasting things!  The jails in East Tennessee and North Alabama were overfull of Union men.  The Union men there had never flinched.  They stood firm now.  The Government, whatever else it did, should immediately relieve them from the grinding and destroying oppression of secession.

He related an instance of a young man, named John C. Hurd, and exemplary citizen and church member, with a wife and two little children, who was convicted of bridge burning.  He was notified but one hour before he was hung that he was to be executed.  He asked for a minister of the Gospel to come and sing and pray with him, but was told that praying would not do traitors to the South any good, and he was thus insultingly refused his dying request.  But the rebels Sent with him to the gallows a miserable, drunken, and demoralized Chaplain of one of their regiments, who stood on the gallows and told the crowd assembled to see the hanging, that the young man about to be executed had been led into the commission of the crimes for which he was to suffer, by designing men, and was sorry for what he had done.  The man about to be hung sprang to his feet, and called out that every word that Chaplain had uttered was false.  He was the identical man who had burned the New Creek Bridge.  He knew what he was about when he did it, and would do it again if he had a chance.  They might go on with their hanging.  He was ready for it.  And they hung him forthwith.  The Parson told of an inoffensive citizen, who was pointed out to a part of straggling soldiers, while at work in a field, as “a d--- Unionist.”  He was at once fired upon, and so mangled that he died within a few hours.

The Parson said it might astonish them, but the greatest negro thieves in the world were the Confederate soldiers.  He spoke feelingly on this subject.  They had stolen from him a likely negro boy, fourteen years old, and worth a thousand dollars.  He had never heard from the boy since he was taken away, and never expected to see him again or get a cent for him.  It was a solemn fact that the Confederate soldiers had stolen more negroes during this war, than all the Abolitionists had stolen for forty years.  These soldiers were the off-scourings of the earth.  Not one half of them had ever owned a negro, or were connected by any degree of social affinity or consanguinity, with anybody who ever did own a negro.  Not only did they steal negroes, but they entered houses and took the clothing from the beds, broke open the drawers, and took all the money and jewelry they could lay their hands upon.  They were, emphatically, thieves as well as traitors.

He had recently had a conversation with a secesh lady, who spoke as usual of one of their chivalry whipping five Yankees.  He asked her about Fort Donelson, &c.  She explained that by saying, the people of the north-west are sons of emigrants from the South.  They were Southern stock and fought like Southerners.  He inquired what of the blue-bellied Yankees, under Burnside, but she did not know how that was; in fact had heard but little about it.

The parson spoke in an animated style, and presently his voice gave signs of failing.  He has been troubled with a bronchial affection, and is still weak from the illness contracted during his imprisonment.  He remarked that he had not for some months attempted to speak at length in public, and his failing strength admonished him that he must close.

He thanked God that he could see daylight now.  The game of the rebellion was pretty near played out.  A “little more grape” and we would have them.  His motto for the war was “grape shot for the armed masses, and hemp for the leaders.” – {Commercial.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, April 5, 1862, p. 4

Southern News

CHICAGO, March 27. – The Nashville, Tennessee Patriot of the 21st, received last evening, has late Southern news.

Of Mr. Yancey the Patriot says:  Mr. Yancey has arrived in New Orleans, on his return from Europe,  In response to the wishes of the people of the city, he made them a speech.  We learn from a gentleman who saw a reprint of it in the New Orleans Picayune, that he gave an unfavorable account of his mission abroad, and candidly admitted that the Confederate States had nothing to hope for from European Powers.  He advised the punishment of Great Britain by means of putting a period to the cultivation of cotton.

The New Orleans Crescent of the 10th inst. states that a couple of powder mills on the opposite side of the river were blown up on the 9th, killing 5 workmen and injuring seriously a soldier near by.  The loss in property was principally machinery.  About 30,0000 pounds of powder being all the stock of that article on hand.

A letter from Huntsville to the New Orleans Picayune of the 12th, after giving an account of operations subsequent to the fall of Donelson says:  “The Provisional Government of Kentucky are now with Gen. Crittenden’s Brigade, the capital of Kentucky now being located in a Sibley tent near the headquarters of that General.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 29, 1862, p. 3

Rumors in Nashville -- Rebel Credulity -- Brave Officers and Toadies

Correspondence of the Cincinnati Gazette

Nashville, Tenn., March 6.

The sympathizers with treason in this vicinity are consoling themselves with the idea that the retreat of the rebel generals and their forces was designed as a strategic movement, for the purpose of getting Gen. Buell on the south side of the Cumberland, so that whenever they desired so to do, they could easily gobble up him and his entire army.

Whether the men who profess to believe this are sincere or not, it is certain that this is only one of the many absurdities with which they daily undertake to console themselves or to deceive the ignorant.

And the nonsense which they circulate has not merely reference to the operations of our troops in portions of the country distant from here, but to what is transpiring in the immediate vicinity of Nashville.

As examples, let me record a few of the rumors which I heard in a single day.  I was crossing the river in a steamboat yesterday morning, when my attention was  attracted to a conversation which was going on between a Lieutenant of our army and a fat, bluffy gentleman, who, himself a bitter Secessionist, was performing the role of a Union man intensely alarmed for the safety of the Federal Army.

“I know your troops are brave,” said he to the Lieutenant, “but bravery has no chance against desperation, and the men in the Southern army are becoming very desperate, indeed.”

“Do you mean,” replied the Lieutenant, “that they so despair of their cause that they will always run, and thus give no opportunity to our brave boys to engage them?  Against such desperation I admit that bravery is of little avail.”

“Yes,” said the concealed Secesher, “they are in retreat now, but when they do make a stand, I know what sort of men they are, and I very much fear the result.”

“I know what sort of men they are, too,” rejoined the Lieutenant; “they are just the sort that attempted to stand against us at Mill Springs, and fled like frightened sheep at the first charge of the bayonet.”

“Well, well,” said they hypocrite, “you mustn’t count too much upon the battle of Mill Springs.  I am sure no one wishes better success to your cause than I; but we all perfectly understand, down here, that the reason why you gained that fight was that Gen. Crittenden was drunk, and after the death of Zollicoffer, was unable to command the army.”

“Then answered the Lieutenant, “the desperate courage of the rebel soldiers must be of little avail, if it can be turned into arrant cowardice by the drunkenness of one man.”

This seemed rather to puzzle the pretender; but when the Lieutenant proceeded to ask him if Gen. Tilghman was drunk at Fort Henry, and if Pillow, Floyd, et al., were drunk at Fort Donelson, he was unable longer to hid his cloven foot, and spitefully declared: “You’ll see how they thing will turn out!  Only last night there were seventy two of your pickets killed, and two pieces of your cannon taken by a small party of cavalry, not more than twenty in number!”

At this a loud [hoarse] laugh broke from a number of Union soldiers, who had gathered round, and so hearty was it, that even the Secession sympathizers in the crowd were constrained to join in, although they would fain have believed that the old rebel’s story was true.

The Lieutenant said not another word, but after bestowing one smile of contempt and scorn upon the unveiled traitor, rose up calmly and went away.  I should like very much to give you his name, but no one on board seemed to know it.  One thing I considered certain – that in his case, the emblems of military authority had been placed upon the solders of the right man.

And this reminds us of another instance of deserved rebuke to a secessionist, but one of our officers.

A very haughty looking scion of aristocracy stepped up to a group standing not far from the City Hotel.  A captain of one of the Ohio regiments was in the company, and was just re[marking that he considered the rebellion pretty] well played out.  “And isn’t it possible,” said the gent, who had come up a minute previous, “is it possible that you expect to crush the Southern people by force of arms?”

“Did you ever know of such a movement being put down by the bayonet?”

“O, yes! we had an instance in our country, when the whisky insurrection, in Pennsylvania was suppressed, during the administration of Washington.”

“You don’t pretend to compare this ware with the whiskey insurrection in Pennsylvania?” said the nabob, with much apparent horror.

“Not in all respects,” replied the Captain, “for I consider this rebellion, stirred up by the devilish passions of a few disappointed politicians in the South, as infinitely more abominable than any outbreak which could be excited by bad whiskey, in Pennsylvania, or elsewhere.”

An old veteran, a resident of Nashville, who was listening, grasped the Captain by the hand: “God bless you!” said he, “that’s right! Don’t hesitate to tell them the truth.”  The secesh gent suddenly remembered, as the saying is, an engagement an another part of the town.

I record these instances of manly bearing with the more pleasure, because I have seen some disgusting exhibitions of toadyism on the part of certain officers in our army, toward the advocates of this wicked and bloody treason. – It exists generally in a latent form, but is pretty certain to show itself in the supporter of disloyalty happens to live in an elegant mansion, to have a hundred or so “niggers” around him and to sport a gold headed cane.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 15, 1862, p. 2

Movements of Troops in Kentucky

We gather the following information from various sources, all of which we believe reliable and none of which we understand to be contraband:

On learning that the rebels were evacuating Bowling Green, General Buell ordered a forced march by Gen. Mitchel [sic], to save, if possible, the railroad and turnpike bridges on the Big Barren river.  They had, however, been destroyed when Mitchel reached the banks of the river Friday morning, having been burned the night before.  The brigades of Breckinridge and Hindman, were until Thursday evening at Woodland Station.  The rebels left nothing in Bowling Green, except a few old wagons.  Part of the town is reported to have been burned.  Gen. Mitchel has crossed the river and is in Bowling Green.

It is believed that there are now no rebel forces in Kentucky east of the direct road from Bowling Green (via Franklin) to Nashville. – Crittenden is trying to organize another army at Carthage, on the south bank of the Cumberland.  This is the only rebel force on the line from Bowling Green to Nashville.  Breckinridge and Hindman’s brigades have fallen back on Russelville, where Buckner and Floyd’s brigades have been, according to latest reports, stationed for some time.  Hardee and Johnston were also believed to be at that point on Friday.  It is presumed that with the exception of the above brigades, the whole rebel army has been moved to Fort Donelson and Clarksville.  What movement may have been made by the rebel forces since Thursday, can only be conjectured; but the probabilities are that they have concentrated their whole force on the Cumberland.  If, however, they should not have done so, the divisions of Nelson and Mitchel will be amply able to cope with all they may have between Bowling Green and Nashville.

It is believed that the divisions of Generals McCook and Thomas, the former marching by the way or Nolin Creek and Elizabethtown; and the latter by way of Lebanon; embarked at the mouth of Salt river on steamers for the Cumberland, Saturday night and yesterday.  Gen. McCook broke up his camp and Munfordville in the night from Thursday to Friday, in a terrible storm of snow and rain, and marched twenty-one miles to Nolin creek, where he encamped Friday night, and it is believed that on Saturday his division pressed on the mouth of Salt river.  The troops that have been and Bardstown, in a camp of instruction, (including the 1^st and 2d Kentucky, well known here) were at Louisville yesterday embarking for the Cumberland, as is supposed.  Three fresh Indiana regiments and a full battery of artillery leave New Albany to-day. – The aggregate of these reinforcements is at least thirty-five, and is perhaps, forty thousand men.  Gen. Buell, we understand, goes with McCook’s division to take command in person on the Cumberland, where our force will by to-morrow morning number little less than eighty thousand men.  We may confidently look for them to rapidly overcome all obstacles on the way to Nashville.  The proceeding in person of Gen. Buell to take command of the magnificent army on the Cumberland, does not indicate any lack of confidence in Gen. Grant, who is known to be as brave as Caesar and a thorough soldier.  It means, however, that the time for organizing victory is over, and the time for the most energetic action has arrived.  Gen. Buell, we are informed, has for weeks regarded the evacuation of Bowling Green as a certainty, and his plans are, therefore, not in any degree deranged by that event.  Now, while he presses the enemy on the Cumberland with his tremendous force, their flank and rear are menaced by the heavy divisions under Mitchel and Nelson.

Since writing the above we learn that ten regiments, now in the Ohio camps, are ordered at once to the lower Ohio.  The points from which these regiments will be drawn are stated elsewhere. – {Cincinnati Commercial.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, February 22, 1862, p. 2