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[246] of indescribable turmoil, which promised to become a panic of the entire Federal command. Tents were overthrown, men were trampled down by their comrades rushing blindly about, riderless horses plunged in every direction, and the startled soldiers thronged and huddled together in fear and amazement, which paralyzed them while it lasted. But even while the Confederates were firing into their faces, and the confusion seemed irremediable, the discipline of these veterans reasserted itself, and their coolness began to return. Rallying in squads, without alignment or formation, for which there was no time, they poured a quick and continuous fire upon their assailants. Two or three pieces of artillery, wheeled rapidly into position, opened like a succession of thunder-claps, and raked the road along which the Confederate column was charging. To have continued the attack would have been madness, and Morgan, drawing off his riders as suddenly as he had brought them on, retired, leaving his adversaries so stupefied by the unexpected blow he had dealt them that they remained quietly in camp until next morning. But before that morning's sun had risen, Morgan had gotten everything across the angry flood, and was miles away upon the road to Northern Kentucky. Thus actually had he, from the nettle “danger,” plucked the flower “safety.”

It would be impossible, even were it desirable, to give, in the limits of an article like this, a detailed account of all the minor incidents which make up the history of an expedition of this character; and, of course, the numerous personal adventures of constant occurrence, when such a body of daring, reckless cavalrymen were threading or forcing their dubious way through the multitude of foes encompassing them, cannot well be told. The acts of individual prowess, the “hair-breadth escapes” which add such zest to the campaign, and afford the veteran “fighting his battles o'er again” exhaustless themes of interest or amusement, will scarcely be worth recital, unless the raconteur, forsaking all graver topics, devotes exclusive attention to them. The usual concomitants of a cavalry raid, the petty, but often sharp and desperately contested combats between small scouting parties, the fatal duels between videttes and pickets, which, trifling as they seem, yet fearfully swell the tale of blood and death, were uncommonly frequent in the six days during which we were traversing the breadth of Kentucky. Our line of march brought us in contact with the enemy far oftener than General Morgan wished, for he was anxious to economize his strength for the long, tough strain that he was yet to encounter. Nevertheless, as we had no choice but to pass through points strongly garrisoned, or avoid

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