Raiding With Morgan by Jim R. Woolard Page A

saddles, replacement clothing and boots, weapons, ammunition, blacksmith tools, horseshoes, medical supplies, and an infinite variety of foodstuffs—items that filled the needs of cavalrymen constantly on the move.
    The theft didn’t end there. Salem’s loaded counters, shelves, and storerooms were an irresistible temptation for troopers long accustomed to doing without, and who had missed their chance at Corydon. What followed made the Corydon looting petty in nature. He watched troopers impress buggies, carts, and market wagons and stuff them with books, stationery, cutlery, bolts of calico, silks and satins, hoops, and other female garments. Raiders brazenly robbed Salem citizens of money, tobacco, and everything else that suited their fancy. Cally Smith ambled past Ty with sleigh bells draped over his shoulder. Not even caged canaries, ice skates, and chafing dishes were safe.
    Ty could understand the taking of items required to keep men riding and fighting, but from his lessons with Professor Ackerman, a longtime student of military history, he was aware that the Corydon and Salem pillages were beyond the pale of civilized warfare, as was stealing from unarmed prisoners of war and civilians.
    Though it went against his grandfather’s passion for the sanctity of private property, Ty was sure he could steal whatever he required to stay in the saddle and support General Morgan. He would touch nothing else. That went too much against the Mattson grain.
    Black smoke billowed beyond the buildings on the southern and western sides of the square. A sergeant, who was headed for the Brightway House, bragged the railroad depot, along with two bridges and wooden ties piled with iron rails, were afire.
    After ninety minutes of watching, Ty sensed a changing mood amongst the looting troopers. The source of the change was easily pinpointed. Bottles of corn liquor were flowing from one hand to another like water over a dam. A fight between two troopers attracted a crowd and prompted a wild spree of loud betting as to the winner. A barber, apron tied about his neck, sailed from his shop and landed facedown in the dusty street. Ty hated snitchers, but he was bound by duty to insure that General Morgan was aware of the deteriorating situation in the square.
    Thankfully, only General Morgan, Colonels Duke and Johnson, and Lieutenant Hardesty occupied the front room of the Brightway House. The absence of other officers allowed Lieutenant Hardesty to note Ty’s presence without delay. “Yes, Corporal?”
    Conversation ceased and all eyes fixed on Ty. “It must be a thing of great importance for you to interrupt General Morgan’s meeting,” Lieutenant Hardesty said.
    â€œYes, sir. I believe you need to check the square. Troopers are drinking heavily and fighting amongst themselves.”
    â€œThank you, Corporal,” General Morgan said, turning to his colonels. “Gentlemen, our planning is complete. We have the ransom for the mill and we’ve burned what we can to slow our pursuers. The boys have obviously had their fun. We best clear out before they turn mean. I don’t want any citizens to suffer bodily injuries, if it can be avoided.”
    Ty waited and followed General Morgan’s party from the room. The sight of General Morgan allowed provost guards and bellowing sergeants to restore order in the square. Stolen wagons, buggies, and carts holding stolen goods were lined out for departure.
    â€œWe’ll have a baggage train a mile or two long trailing after us,” Colonel Duke predicted.
    â€œIf it starts to slow us down too much,” General Morgan said, “I’ll issue orders to abandon the whole shebang.”
    Ty departed Salem mounted on a bay, with one white stocking, provided by General Morgan’s groom at the direction of Lieutenant Shannon. “His name is Duke,” the groom said when handing him the reins. “No need to worry. I take good care