Cavalry, had the van. The Fourth broke camp early
that morning, April 9th, at the loyal town of Shelbyville, with a three
o'clock reveille and timely "Boots and Saddles." Passing by the infantry
and Simonson's guns, the regiment rode briskly on to Fayetteville,
through the town, over the stone bridge at Elk river, and camped on the
same spot where Gen. Jackson had camped fifty years before, in 1812, a
spot convenient, pleasant, and _historic_. News of the victory at
Corinth reached us on the 10th, and there was enthusiastic joy and
joyful enthusiasm throughout the camp. The command set out at once for
Huntsville, the cavalry leading. Our route lay along a circuitous dirt
road and through a mountainous country. Twelve miles brought us to the
State line, marked by a high pole bearing the tattered remnants of a
rebel flag.

Now we are in Alabama. The plantations stretch out in beautiful
landscape and, as the innumerable negroes grin at us from every field
and fence, we are forcibly reminded that we are "in the land of cotton."
Halting at sundown to feed and await the remainder of the division, the
cavalry again moved on rapidly and went into bivouac at 10 P. M. At two
in the morning a detail of picked men was made to ride across the
country and tear up the track on the Memphis & Charleston Railroad
leading east from Huntsville. Pickets were also thrown out to intercept
all travel to and from the town. At four o'clock on the morning of April
11th the artillery and cavalry were in motion for Huntsville, eight
miles away. Nearing town the battery galloped on to the front, the
Fourth Ohio following close. It was a matter of all importance that the
place should be reached before any trains should leave; and when, two
miles off, the whistle of a locomotive sounded on our ears, every thing
was excitement and every horse put to its speed. Such a clatter never
before awoke the echoes among those Alabama hills. Yonder curls the
smoke and here comes the engine with but a single car, steaming eastward
across the plain. Simonson wheels a gun, lets fly a solid shot, and the
engine slackens speed, hesitates (as if to ask the meaning of all this),
and puffs quickly on. A shell speeds after it but fails in its intent.
However, the train can not escape altogether if our railroad wreckers
have safely reached their trysting-place. The locomotive may be ditched
and lost to us for service, but will hardly carry the news to
Leadbetter, at Bridg