During the entire war, both sides used to send flags of truce for quite other purposes than the ostensible ones. Morgan was the commanding Confederate officer in all that region, and had a right to send flags of truce for any purpose whatever, so long as he observed the usages which govern them. The flag of truce need not have stopped the expedition.
It was Mitchell's own fault if it was allowed to go far enough to see what he wished to conceal. It is the right and positive duty of an officer in charge of a flag, to go as far as he is permitted. General Mitchell could have refused to receive it, and have ordered it back. Morgan's friends somewhat doubted whether this expedition (even if it had not been met and checked by the flag of truce), would have resulted in Morgan's capture. General Mitchell was a profound strategist, but he was going to travel by daylight through a country full of Morgan's friends, and upon a road constantly watched by his scouts, to surprise Morgan. At any rate, it may be safely asserted that the fond hope which General Mitchell cherished, could never have been realized, after Morgan had gotten such timely information of an expedition intended for his capture, that he was able to meet it with a flag of truce as it was just setting out.
The country around Nashville, in which Morgan did the service, which I have attempted to describe, is one admirably adapted to it. It is one of the most fertile and wealthy portions of Middle Tennessee, a region unsurpassed in productiveness. Yet teeming as it is with every crop which the farmer wishes, one would think, in riding along the fine turnpikes which enter Nashville upon all sides, that a comparatively small proportion of the land is cultivated. A dense growth of timber, principally cedar, stretches, sometimes for miles, along the roads, and runs back from them, occasionally, to considerable distances. The cedar glades, are, some of them, of great extent, and are penetrated in all directions by roads. Springs, and small watercourses, are frequent. It is indeed a beautiful country, and the paradise of partisan cavalry, who can find in it, every where, supplies for men and horses, shelter to hide them, going against and escaping from an enemy, and, stop where they will, all that makes a camp happy.