General Jeff C. Davis had been in command of a division under General William Nelson at Louisville, and had in some way incurred Nelson's censure. Nelson relieved him of command and ordered him to report to Wright, the department commander, at Cincinnati. Wright ordered Davis to return to Louisville and report to Buell for duty. Davis, being from Indiana, returned _via_ Indianapolis, and from there was accompanied to Louisville by Governor Oliver P. Morton, who, with another friend, was with Davis in the vestibule of the Galt House about 9 A.M. when Davis accosted Nelson, demanding satisfaction for the injustice he claimed had been done him, and, it was said, at the same time flipped a paper wad in Nelson's face.(27) Nelson retorted by slapping Davis in the face with the back of his hand, and then, after denouncing Morton as Davis' "abettor of the deliberate insult," at once passed from the vestibule to adjoining hallway and started up the steps of a stairway, apparently going towards his room. He soon, however, returned to the hall and walked quietly in the direction of Davis. The latter meantime had obtained a pistol from his friend, and as Nelson approached fired on him, the bullet striking Nelson in the left breast, just over the heart, producing what proved, in half an hour, to be a mortal wound.(27) The incident was a deplorable one. Nelson was an able, valuable officer, and had proved himself such on many fields. He was known to be hasty, and sometimes unwarrantably rough in his treatment of others, yet he promptly repented of any act of injustice and made amends as far as possible. Davis was placed in military arrest by Buell, but later was released, by orders from Washington, to be allowed to become amenable to civil authority. Still later he was restored to the command of a division, then given a corps, and, by his gallantry, soldierly bearing, and general good conduct to the end of the war, atoned in some degree for the bloody deed. My resignation was accepted on this memorable 29th of September, 1862, and thenceforth my official connection with my first regiment, its gallant officers and soldiers, and with the noble Army of the Ohio and the other great armies of the West, ceased, and forever, and not without the deepest regret, especially in parting from Colonel John Beatty, with whom I had, as more than a friend and companion, eaten and slept, marched and bivouacked, on the closest terms of confidence, without receiving from him an unkind or ungenerous word, for seventeen months, although he was my immediate superior officer, and we had both gone through many hardships and vexatious trials together. This was the more remarkable as we were each of sanguine temperament and obstinate by nature.