IVY Camp Branch to Groveton: Part 2

By Dr. Larry G. Morgan

Ivy, full of compassion for the wounded soldiers on both sides of the Civil War, joins the Confederate nursing core and travels to the battlefields where she tends to those as best as she can while keeping her own fears for her fiancé's well-being to herself. As the war wears on, she waits for word from her true love. Finally the war ends a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Go To Publish
• Release date: Aug 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647491819

Dr. Larry G. Morgan

The author was born in 1944 in a three-room shack in the Nantahala Mountains of North Carolina. In 1956, his family moved to Guilford County near Greensboro, where he attended Colfax Union School and graduated in 1962. Morgan attend High Point University from which he graduated in 1966. He earned his Master of Education, Education Specialist degree, and principal's certificate from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. He was awarded a Doctorate from Hill University in Texas. His education career included assignments at Guilford County schools, Davidson County schools, Randolph County schools, and a principalship at Nantahala School.

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IVY: Camp Branch to Groveton

Copyright © 2020 by Dr. Larry G. Morgan

ISBN: 978-1-64749-181-9

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions.No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

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Books by Dr. Larry G. Morgan

Mountain Born - Mountain Molded

Appalachian Mountain Memories

Golf Poems for Everyone

Old Time Religion in the Southern Appalachians

Strange Life – Struggling with the mysteries of OCD

Joseph’s Son

The Journey

A Timeline for Creation and other Essays

A Peculiar People

Revelation for Laymen

Praise for the Ivy Series

Ivy is a romantic story in a pre-Civil-War to early-twentieth-century setting with all the violence, hardships and triumphs of that era and insight regarding how mountain folk of North Carolina were affected. The writer’s attention to detail in a very descriptive manner gives the reader a sense of being there. Exploration of the inner feelings of man, especially despair, hope, success and love, make this excellent reading.

– Roger L. Nelson, High School Principal

In Ivy, Larry Morgan combines his considerable writing talent displayed in previous anecdotal and autobiographical works with his insightful knowledge of American history in creating an epic novel. Ivy is a vast tapestry woven from the fabric of actual historical figures during the American Civil War and the Spanish-American War, intertwined with the threads of two men from different cultures who become enemy combatants on the battlefield and who vie for the love and affection of the beautiful and compelling Ivy. Morgan exhibits an uncanny ability for using vivid descriptive language to transport the reader on a journey of myriad locations and emotions from pristine, peaceful mountain scenery to the harsh life of the early settlers in the Southern Appalachians to chaotic, horrendous battles and their carnage to the inner, intimate feelings and emotions of the characters. Against the backdrop of the Civil War, and later the Spanish-American War, Ivy provides the reader with an inspiring narrative of historical events and how otherwise ordinary people’s lives intersect as they achieve heroic status because of their strength of character and uncommon courage. Whether the reader is a student of history or is one who appreciates an absorbing love story, Ivy will not disappoint.

– Stanley Wayne Morgan, Retired School Superintendent

With appreciation, the author and publisher acknowledge the assistance and guidance regarding accuracy of Civil War events, people and timelines, from Michael C. Hardy—author, Civil War historian and re-enactor.

www.michaelchardy.com

This book is dedicated to my daughter

Pamela Green

Preface

In the Ivy book series, I have employed fact to authenticate fiction and fiction to illuminate fact. To reveal which parts are fact and which are fiction before it is read, almost certainly would compromise the final, cumulative effect I hope will be created in the reader. Some of the fact and fiction overlap; even so, discerning readers should be able to distinguish between the two. Some of the characters are fictitious, and some of them are real historical entities. Some exist in both the fictional and historical realms.

The character, Ivy, is based on an actual historical person. She was the first wife of my great-grandfather, Joseph Morgan. Some mysterious circumstances connected with her that my wife discovered while researching the genealogy of my family was my motivation for writing this tome.

The Ivy book series is not intended to be a scholarly history of the Civil War in the South. However, the broad outline is historically correct. Other than Ivy, the other characters who are real, historical persons include Joseph Morgan and his parents, Isabelle Forrester and her parents, Riley Coleman and his wife, the former Nancy Snyder, and their daughter, Adeline, Reverend Phillip Passmore and his wife, Elender, Reverend Clint Grant, Reverend Glenn Dills, J.J. Martin and most of the generals including Grant, Sherman, Thomas, Hood, Johnston, Bragg, Wheeler, Custer, Rosecrans, Lee, Jackson and Longstreet. All the places mentioned are actual geographical sites.

Most of the battle tactics ascribed to certain characters are contrived by the author and may or may not be what a military commander would have ordered or undertaken in that situation. However, the overall strategy and progress of the war as I have presented them varies little from its true course.

IVY RETURNS

The following morning, with Ivy astride a horse given to her by his cavalry, Seth escorted her the two miles or so back to the main road between Clarkesville and Nashville, the road on which the ambulance wagon train she had been a part of had been attacked. After a soul-wrenching farewell, Ivy turned her mount northward. Even with episodes of silent tears streaming down her exquisite face, broken by intervals of uncontrollable sobbing, her heart was singing once more.

After several more miles she managed to stop crying and began praying fervently to the Almighty, giving thanks for Seth’s being alive, importuning from the sincerest depths of her young heart for the Lord to keep him alive and unmaimed and pleading that this awful war would be over very soon.

As she rode into the hospital compound, all eyes turned toward her. It was evident to everyone this was not the morose, depressed girl who had departed a few days earlier on the ambulance caravan to Nashville.

Word of her caravan having been attacked by Yankee cavalry had drifted back to the hospital compound. However, the remainder of the caravan personnel had not yet arrived back from Nashville, so what had happened to Ivy was as yet unknown here.

She performed her duties efficiently and professionally again. When the other members of the ambulance caravan arrived back at the compound a few days later, those few who had witnessed Ivy riding off with a Union cavalry officer holding her atop a huge, black horse were never sure she had not been kidnapped, carried off, and assaulted because of her beauty, even though she was gaunt and pale or had been a willing participant in the episode. Some were of one opinion, some of the other.

However, when they saw the new or old Ivy, this particular disputation was laid to rest. As for any particulars of the episode, they remained unaware because none of them wanted to pry into Ivy’s affairs. This was Ivy’s secret, and because of the genuine fondness each one of them had for her, it remained theirs as well. They were happy with the Ivy who had returned to them.

Although her heart was singing, Ivy’s joy was tempered by the knowledge of the danger Seth was in practically every day. When these terrible portents seemed about to overpower her, she would fight them down, attempting with every fiber of her being to expunge them from her mind.

JOSEPH: RECRUIT TO CAPTAIN

When Joseph entered the recruiter’s tent, he was greeted from behind a field table by a boyish captain in a new, gray Confederate uniform.

Your name, the captain said matter-of-factly.

Joseph Morgan.

We need men in all branches of the artillery, the infantry and the cavalry. Do you have a preference?

I do. I’d like to be a cavalryman.

Do you have a mount?

Just a plow horse, so I guess the answer is ‘no.’

How well can you ride? Farm boys are usually pretty proficient at it.

I can hold my own with anyone.

What weapons do you have?

Just a rifle.

Here the high-pitched voice of the captain paused as he mulled over the information he had gotten from the confident, powerful-looking recruit standing before him. Then he sat back down and bade Joseph to do likewise.

After a short pause the captain said, Well, we will trade horses with you. Your horse can pull our artillery. In fact, we need artillery horses more than we need cavalry mounts. We have a few, but, unfortunately, most are those of cavalrymen who have been killed or wounded for the Cause. I think we can fix you up with a carbine and some ammunition in exchange for your rifle. We don’t have a side arm in stock, but as soon as we do, you will be issued one.

Getting up and walking to the partially open tent flap, the captain called out, Private Dills.

Yes, sir, was the answer as a young private rushed up and saluted.

Take this man to the armory and give him a carbine for his cap-and-ball. Then take him to the corral where he will exchange his horse for one carrying an army brand. Here is a note which authorizes all of this.

Turning once again to Joseph, who had turned almost halfway around in his chair out of interest and curiosity, the captain said, Go with Private Dills and get a carbine and a ride. Then come back here, and I’ll figure out which regiment needs you the most.

Joseph was sworn into the Confederate States Army by Captain Lawson. He was assigned to the 29th North Carolina Cavalry, which Captain Lawson himself commanded.

His mount wasn’t a fiery steed, but he appeared to be fast. After being presented a gray tunic with he waited for the trousers. Alas, the only other bit of uniform was a gray hat with a cord around the crown that could be adjusted beneath the chin to secure it, if desired. The nondescript trousers he was already wearing were now part of his Confederate uniform.

The very first time Joseph swung into the saddle, it was apparent he was a born cavalryman. Sitting astride his horse, he cut a striking figure—even in the partial uniform—with his erect carriage and broad shoulders. Captain Lawson detailed Private J.J. Martin to show Joseph the vital commands and responses to them. Joseph was a quick learner, but most of his training would be on-the-job lessons and of the kind he could not fail.

The raw lad from Burning Town Creek had such a lesson the very next morning. Joseph’s adrenalin was flowing like the Tennessee River at flood stage as he saddled up for his first venture into war.

His unit’s assignment was to ascertain how far south into Middle Tennessee General Rosecrans’ forces had advanced. General Grant had been reassigned to the Mississippi River theatre of war. They were not to engage in any skirmishes with federal forces if they could avoid it. It would take several nights and days, in all probability, to gather enough information to make a reliable report for the Confederate commanders.

For the first two hours of their journey southwest, they stuck to the roads and lanes because the unit was still closer to its own Confederate-held territory than to that held by the enemy invader.

As they approached the Tennessee River, however, they took to the forest to reduce the chances of being discovered. For the next two hours the column moved quietly through the trees ever closer to Rosecrans’ army. Just as they topped a ridge, Captain Lawson raised his right hand and signaled for quiet.

His men strung out in a line along the low ridge, Captain Lawson pointed down to a narrow road. A long column of Yankee cavalry traveling two abreast was cantering by while the Confederates held their breath. As Joseph looked at the enemy for the first time, his breath was so short and his heart beat so fast and loud he was sure some keen-eared Yankee would hear it.

Joseph’s gaze was drawn to the officer at the head of the column. He was riding the biggest, blackest horse Joseph had ever seen. His erect posture was that of a professional soldier. With that large, white feather in his dark-blue service hat, the man cut an imposing, authoritative figure.

All of his troops were fully outfitted with regulation U.S. Army dark-blue uniforms trimmed in gold, with gold epaulets on the shoulders of the officers and red stripes on the outsides of the trouser legs. The enlisted men had gold chevrons on their upper sleeves and cuffs and yellow stripes on the outside of their uniform pant legs.

What a contrast they were with the conglomerate uniforms of the Confederates who were silently studying them! When the last Yankee had vanished around a turn in the road, Captain Lawson motioned for Joseph and his compatriots to follow him.

It was getting dark when Captain Lawson halted the troopers in a deep ravine in a wooded area. As a campfire was a sure invitation for Yankee scouts, they proceeded with a dry camp. Joseph slept very little because he had not fully settled down from seeing the long double-column of Yankee cavalry.

Nevertheless, a vision of Ivy kept intruding into his restless dozing. Before dawn they were back in their saddles. This would be the most dangerous part of their mission. They would be practically in the enemy’s front yard as they reconnoitered the precise location of Rosecrans’ huge Army of the Cumberland, as it was now being called. Along with its location, it was imperative they discover as closely as possible its strength, number of cannons and types, if possible, in the artillery divisions.

During the succeeding weeks and months, Captain Lawson was struck by the professional, cool conduct of the newest member of his troop.

Joseph was as calm and business-like as an experienced veteran. Up until now, Captain Lawson had broken his cavalrymen into groups with specific assignments. He decided to keep Joseph with his own group, thus providing himself with a more complete appraisal of the newcomer’s skills and military acumen.

After only six weeks Captain Lawson was so impressed with the buck private from Macon County, North Carolina, he sought for and obtained a promotion for Joseph to the rank of corporal. Two weeks later, due to the transfer of Sergeant Maynard to another unit, Captain Lawson went through the necessary channels, and Joseph was now a sergeant.

During his apprenticeship as corporal and sergeant, Joseph’s rapport and acceptance by the rest of the brigade further convinced Captain Lawson he had a real diamond in the rough in Joseph.

Up to this time, however, Joseph had not yet tasted the sting of battle. His duties had consisted entirely of scouting and escorting military supplies to various units. On many occasions when Captain Lawson was required to be somewhere else, Joseph had been placed in command of rather large groups of men to perform these assignments. Several times he had been close enough to hear the exchange of small arms fire, but had not yet closed with the enemy. Joseph couldn’t decide whether he was relieved he hadn’t seen real action, or was disappointed. But he fully realized out there in the near future, the first clash with the enemy waited for him.

The next two scouting forays were uneventful. Joseph was chomping at the bit to get at those Yankees invaders. His opportunity came on the next scouting assignment, but it most definitely was unplanned.

As Captain Lawson quietly led his column alongside a large, Tennessee cornfield, suddenly, a burst of gunfire from out in the tall stalks swept several of Joseph’s fellow troopers from their saddles; some were killed outright, one of whom was Captain Lawson, and many others were wounded.

Before the stunned Confederates could recover, from out of the green corn stalks an indeterminable number of bluecoat cavalrymen came charging and yelling at the disorganized Southerners.

Realizing they were hopelessly outnumbered and at a decided tactical disadvantage, the natural leadership in Joseph exploded into action as never before, this time under fire. Quickly, instinctively, coolly evaluating the situation, he wheeled his mount and shouted, Follow me!

Something in Joseph’s voice struck a chord with the frightened, confused men, and they immediately followed him in a mad scramble up the steep, wooded hill to their immediate right. The Yankees had thought this escarpment was too steep for mounted horses to traverse; thus, the Confederate cavalry would be trapped for slaughter or capture.

The dismayed Yankees halted at the edge of the cornfield at the base of the almost vertical geographical feature and fired one last volley at the partially gray-clad horsemen disappearing over the wooded summit above them. When all the Confederate horsemen had disappeared, they proceeded to hurl curses and insults at the escaping enemy.

Joseph led what was left of the cavalrymen—some wounded, many unscathed, but all badly shaken—back to headquarters. Then he took it upon himself to find Colonel Silas Giles, the commander of the regiment, and make the report of the assignment and, of course, of the ambush by the federals and the death of Captain Lawson. When he had concluded his sad report, he snapped a rough, unpracticed salute, waited for the commander to return it, then wheeled and made his way to his cramped quarters.

It was then that his hatred for the Yankees and their ambushing, sneak-attacking, cowardly tactics began to consume him. He considered it low-down, unmanly, treacherous and evil for anyone to lie in wait and, without warning, to fire from a hidden position.

Because of this very kind of attack on his column that morning, he was set on a path that would make him one of the most feared men in the Southern theatre of the war. And little did he suspect that, before the end of this war, mainly due to being more and more outnumbered as the fighting progressed, he would become an expert in setting the same types of deadly ambushes for the Yankees. The muscles in his jaws knotted into fearsome harbingers of violence, and his large, light-blue eyes began to flash ominously.

The following morning around ten o’clock, Colonel Giles pulled the flap to the tent that housed Joseph and three other occupants and stepped inside. Joseph and his compatriots quickly sprang from their bunks and saluted as best they could. Returning the salute, Colonel Giles sat down in a flimsy chair.

Sergeant Morgan, I’ve just come from talking with several of the surviving cavalrymen who were in the ruckus yesterday with you, and almost to a man, they have requested that you become commander of the company in place of Captain Lawson. It would be extremely unusual to confer such an honor and rank on one so recent to the brigade and so young and inexperienced. However, I am of the opinion that if you are not the type of leader that you exhibited yesterday, and do not continue to demonstrate the indefinable quality that men have confidence in, it will be revealed quickly enough and measures can be taken to rectify the situation. However, if these qualities truly are embodied in you and in your character, it will be detrimental to the Cause not to start benefiting from them as soon as possible. Therefore, Sergeant Morgan, in light of the number of cavalrymen, the responsibility, and the need for more who are capable leaders, I have been authorized to forego the rank of lieutenant. You are now Captain Morgan, if you choose to accept.

Joseph was stunned. He was only twenty-two years old and had never had any previous military training. After he had gotten control of his faculties, he replied, Are you sure, Colonel?

Yes, Sergeant Morgan. You have the most valuable traits leaders can possess: supreme confidence in yourself and the innate confidence and trust of men. What do you say?

It was true Joseph did have confidence in himself, and he trusted himself more than the men probably did. He certainly didn’t want to take orders from anyone else in the brigade based on what he had seen. They were brave, reliable men, but none of them had exhibited any behavior to date that would indicate to-the-death leadership material.

Finally, Joseph decided that if he were going to get killed, he wanted it to be because of his own mistake and not someone else’s, so he replied, Yes, sir. I’ll take the job.

Okay, Captain Morgan, he said. Come by my tent and pick up my authorization to procure the requisite insignia and the officer’s saber.

With that he stood up, saluted again and left the tent. Thus was created the captain who the Yankees would come to call the Blue-Eyed Demon.

The first two assignments given to Joseph and the 10th Brigade of the 26th North Carolina Cavalry were raids behind the Yankee lines to burn or destroy stockpiles of the enemy’s provisions, arms, and other vital equipment. At the first site, using the element of surprise, they thundered in and were able to scatter the bluecoats who were working there without a shot being fired, such was the ferocity of the charge the new captain led. At the second, however, the stockpile was in a five-acre cornfield. As soon as his spread-out cavalry began the attack, several of the Yankees retrieved their weapons and begun firing away. For the first time Joseph heard a peculiar whining, zinging sound close to his left ear. It was the very sound of instant death, that of a .58 caliber minie ball, a sound that soon would be frightfully familiar to him. As the troopers bent low in their saddles to make as small targets as possible, they arrived among the scattered enemy soldiers with a commanding flourish.

The Yankees had laid down their weapons and stood with raised hands.

Gather up any carbines they might have, Captain Morgan ordered, and, Private Hansen and Private Walton, take the soldiers over there to those trees and guard them until we complete our mission. Then in a loud voice he called out, Burn it.

Several of the cavalry dismounted, reached into their saddlebags, and pulled out a small tin of coal oil. After the fire had ignited, everyone mounted up. Soon the Yankee contraband was going up in smoke.

Joseph wheeled his horse and shouted, Let’s go. I’m sure the smoke has been spotted by their cavalry, and they’re already headed this way.

Joseph’s contingent of raiders made their way around the enemy’s right flank several miles farther out than the route they had made their approach from earlier that morning. Joseph hoped his column could remain undetected until darkness had fallen. But the main body of Grant’s army had indeed seen the pall of smoke behind them. By the size of the plume and cloud, it was apparent what had occurred—another raid by the Blue-Eyed Demon. General Matthews, the Union cavalry commander, immediately dispatched two regiments of his own cavalry to try to intercept the