LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE: 
 
 A HISTORY 
 
 OP 
 
 SECRET SERVICE 
 
 IN THE LATE WAR. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. WILLIAM PITTENGER. 
 
 u Storin'd at with shot and shell, 
 Boldly they rode and well ; 
 Into the jaws of death, 
 Into the mouth of hell, 
 Kode the six hundred. 
 
 * :•:- -:s s:- -:•:- * 
 
 " They that had fought so well 
 Came through the jaws of death 
 Back from the mouth of hell, 
 All that was left of them — 
 Left of six hundred." 
 
 Tennyson's Charge of the Light Brigade. 
 
 WASHINGTON: 
 THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE. 
 
 1885. 
 

 Copyright, 18S1, by Rev. William Pittenger. 
 
 th 
 
 
 
 
TO 
 
 THE SURVIVING COMRADES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CHATTANOOGA RAILROAD EXPEDITION, 
 
 AND TO 
 
 ^THE FAMILIES OF THOSE WHO PERISHED IN THE 
 SAME ADVENTURE, 
 
 Qtote gvcravd of thciv gating ami buffering 
 
 IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 In telling the story all fictitious embellishments have 
 been rejected. No pains have been spared to ascertain 
 the exact truth, and the reader will find names, dates, 
 and localities so fully given that it will be easy to ver- 
 ify the prominent features of the account. 
 
 In narrating those' events which fell under his own 
 eye, the writer has waived all scruples of delicacy, and 
 used the first personal pronoun. This is far more sim- 
 ple and direct, while an opposite course would have 
 savored of affectation. 
 
 This is not a revision or new edition of the little 
 volume published by the present writer during the 
 rebellion. Daring and Suffering, like a number 
 of similar sketches published in newspapers, maga- 
 zines, and pamphlets, was a hasty narrative of per- 
 sonal adventure, and made no pretence of complete- 
 ness. Capturing . a Locomotive is broader and 
 more historic; a large amount of valuable material 
 is now employed for the first time ; and the story is 
 approached in an entirely different manner. No para- 
 graph of the old book is copied into the new. 
 
 Woodbury, New Jersey January, 1882. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. — A Secret Military Expedition 
 II. — Midnight Consultation . 
 III. — Companions and Incidents 
 IV. — A Locomotive and Train Captured 
 V. — Unforeseen Hindrances 
 VI. — A Terrible Railroad Chase 
 VII. — A Night in the Woods . 
 VIII. — In the Enemy's Power . 
 IX. — Other Captures 
 
 X. — A Horrible Prison . 
 XI. — Lights and Shadows of Prison 
 XII. — The First Tragedy 
 XIII. — A Confederate Court-Martial 
 XIV. — The Crowning Horror . 
 XV. — Prison Religion 
 XVI. — Liberty or Death? 
 XVII. — Romantic Escapes 
 XVIII. — From Atlanta to the Gulf . 
 XIX. — From Atlanta to Richmond . 
 XX. — Libby and Castle Thunder . 
 XXI. — Sickness and Liberty 
 
 PAOE 
 
 9 
 
 27 
 
 36 
 
 65 
 
 75 
 
 93 
 
 120 
 
 136 
 
 153 
 
 170 
 
 182 
 
 197 
 
 205 
 
 221 
 
 228 
 
 244 
 
 262 
 
 274 
 
 293 
 
 308 
 
 326 
 
 APPENDIX : 
 No. I. — Extracts from the Report of Judge-Ad- 
 vocate-General Holt to the Secretary 
 
 of War 341 
 
 No. II. — A Southern Estimate 345 
 
 No. III. — A Frenchman's View of the Chatta- 
 nooga Railroad Expedition . . . 350 
 
 No. IV. — Old Scenes Revisited 352 
 
 7 
 
ILLUSTRATION'S 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1. The Chase Frontispiece. 
 
 2. General O. M. Mitchel 11 
 
 3. Midnight Consultation 32 
 
 4. William Pittenger 42 
 
 5. Map of Chattanooga and its Railroad Connec- 
 
 tions 58 
 
 6. Capture of a Train 71 
 
 7. William A. Fuller 87 
 
 8. D. A. Dorset . . . . " . . . .156 
 
 9. A Terrible Descent 172 
 
 10. Liberty or Death ! 255 
 
 11. W. W. Brown 264 
 
 12. DORSEY AND HAWKINS IN THE CUMBERLAND MOUN- 
 
 TAINS 272 
 
 13. Saved at Sea 26u 
 
 s 
 
CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A SECRET MILITARY EXPEDITION. 
 
 As the writer looked up from the manuscript page 
 on a warm March afternoon of 1862, a very busy, and 
 occasionally an amusing scene was presented. I was 
 seated on a gentle, wooded slope which led down to the 
 clear and quiet stream of Stone River, in Tennessee. 
 Not being at that time " on duty," I had strolled away 
 from the tents which whitened the level fields above, 
 and was passing an hour in the pleasant task of pre- 
 paring " war correspondence" for the SteubenvlUe Her- 
 ald. Now and then I lifted my eyes to watch the work 
 in progress a few yards farther down the stream. A 
 large bridge, burned by the enemy on their retreat a 
 few weeks before, was now being rapidly repaired, or 
 rather rebuilt. The chief director of the work was 
 General O. M. Mitchel, of astronomical fame, in whose 
 division I then served. He was in every respect an 
 able officer, and understood the construction of railroad 
 bridges as well as observing the stars, or moulding raw 
 recruits into veteran soldiers. But all his skill and 
 science did not save him from becoming a little ridicu- 
 lous at times. The Union soldier found no difficulty 
 in loving his commander and laughing at him at the 
 same instant. General Mitchel was now most impa- 
 tient to complete this bridge, and thus maintain a 
 
 9 
 
10 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 northern line of communication, while he penetrated 
 farther into the South. Being now, for the first time, 
 possessed of an independent command, he wished to 
 signalize himself by some great blow struck at the most 
 vulnerable point in the enemy's line. He could, there- 
 fore, scarcely endure the necessary delay caused by burnt 
 bridges, and worked like a beaver, and chafed and fret- 
 ted, and caused the men of his command to perform 
 more hard labor than was agreeable. As I saw him 
 running from place to place, urging on the idlers, and 
 taking hold of any piece of work that presented itself 
 as if he had been a common laborer, shouting and scold- 
 ing, but always knowing just what ought to be done, 
 and making surprising progress, I could not help ad- 
 miring the man, even while I laughed at some exhibi- 
 tions of superfluous zeal. MitchePs scientific educa- 
 tion, his practical experience, and his inventive genius 
 stood him in good stead, as was proved by the rapid 
 growth of the bridge before me. The soldiers almost 
 idolized their skilful and zealous commander, but this 
 did not deprive them of the soldier's privilege of grum- 
 bling without stint at his restless activity. He was to 
 be found along the guard lines at almost any hour of 
 the night, and woe to the sleepy sentinel who failed to 
 give the proper challenge or to " turn out" promptly. 
 No severe punishments had yet been inflicted, but some 
 of the indolent had been terribly frightened, and were 
 accustomed to declare that " Old Mitchel" had been 
 watching the stars so long that he could not sleep at 
 night himself, and was not willing that anybody else 
 should ! But the discipline of the troops steadily im- 
 proved, and the hearty commendation of their com- 
 mander, who knew how to praise as well as blame, 
 made amends for seeming harshness. 
 
 As I watched the working-parties, my attention was 
 attracted to one strong-looking soldier who was obvi- 
 ously shirking. Before many minutes General Mitchel 
 saw him too. The man pretended to lift and work, 
 
GENERAL O. M. MITCHELL. 
 
 (From Harper's Magazine.) 
 
 Page 11 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. H 
 
 while really doing nothing, and thus became a great 
 hindrance, for his example was contagious. Stealthily 
 the general stole towards him, and when I saw him take 
 a piece of rotten wood in his hand I looked for a scene. 
 It came. He dealt the idler a sudden blow that cov- 
 ered him all over with rotten wood, and nearly took 
 him from his feet, but did him no real injury. The 
 fellow turned furiously to avenge himself on his assail- 
 ant, but stood abashed when he saw the face of his com- 
 mander, and heard the exclamation, " Go to work, you 
 lazy rascal !" The spectators enjoyed the man's look 
 of blank amazement greatly, and the work went for- 
 ward more promptly than ever. But in a few moments- 
 the tables were turned. Large framed masses of timber 
 were first floated near the position they were to occupy 
 in the bridge, at the end of the trestle-work, and then,, 
 with ropes and pulleys, were slowly and painfully 
 hoisted into place. One of these was approaching the 
 perpendicular, and the general, in his eagerness, ran to 
 the end of a log, which extended over the water, and 
 began to encourage the laborers by loud cries of,. 
 " Heave, O ! heave, O !" as they pulled at the ropes. 
 Another party of workmen passed by the shore end of 
 the log on which Mitchel stood, carrying a load of 
 timber. Just as they reached the log, — the lazy man 
 among them, now lifting as much as any other, — I 
 could not see just how it was done, but probably by a 
 quick motion of the foot, the general's log was turned 
 so suddenly that he had no choice but to plunge in the 
 water. I expected a fearful explosion of indignation, 
 and perhaps the summoning of a guard to arrest the 
 offender, but was greatly surprised to see Mitchel, as 
 soon as the splash enabled me to see at all, stand up in 
 the water, which was not more than two feet deep, and 
 without even turning towards the shore, continue call- 
 ing, " Heave, O ! heave, O !" as vigorously as ever. 
 There was some laughing, but the soldiers had great 
 respect for such coolness and presence of mind. The 
 
12 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 general made no effort to discover the author of his 
 sudden immersion, though he must have known that it 
 was not accidental. " ' Old Stars' can take a joke," 
 was the approving remark of a soldier close to my 
 side. 
 
 I had just finished reading to a friend the newspaper 
 article I had been writing, when Captain Mitchel, a 
 distant relative of the general's, and commander of one 
 of the companies in the Second Ohio Regiment, — the 
 regiment in which I served, — came and sat down by 
 me, and asked what news I had been writing to the 
 papers. This was always a matter of great interest to 
 the officers and soldiers of our volunteer armies, for the 
 public letter served to give the families at home a great 
 deal of news, and thus to fill out the accounts- conveyed 
 by private letters. I read the sketch over to him, and 
 it suggested a general conversation on the prospects of 
 the war. These we regarded as eminently favorable. 
 McClellan was about to move towards Richmond with 
 an overwhelming force, and we expected him to easily 
 capture the rebel capital. Buell, who had been with 
 us in our march through Kentucky, had gone South- 
 west to join Grant. That they would, when united, be 
 able to drive the enemy far down the Mississippi, even 
 if they did not open that river to the Gulf, seemed 
 equally sure. But where were we going, that we, with 
 only ten thousand men and an adventurous general, 
 were being hurried Southeast? There was no enemy 
 in our front now, but we could not continue to march 
 in that direction very long without finding' foes enough. 
 We were striking directly between the great armies of 
 the Rebellion, and, if we went on far enough, would 
 totally sever their connection. At this point in the 
 •conversation Mitchel exhibited some constraint, as if 
 afraid of saying too much. I declared my own opinion, 
 which I shared with the greater part of the army, that 
 we were bound for Chattanooga, and possibly for At- 
 lanta, but that the rebels would be sure to run in heavy 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 13 
 
 bodies of troops by rail, and give us all the fighting we 
 wanted before reaching even the former place. 
 
 " Possibly they may," said Mitchel ; " but there are 
 ways of looking out for that." 
 
 " How?" I asked, with interest, for I knew that he 
 was usually well informed and very intelligent. 
 
 He smiled, and said that " I might find out some 
 time." 
 
 His manner, much more than his words, piqued my 
 curiosity. Besides, there was another matter I had re- 
 solved to question him about at the first opportunity. 
 A few days before several of the best soldiers of our 
 regiment had suddenly disappeared. Four of the miss- 
 ing men were from the company to which I belonged, 
 and two others from MitchePs company. They had 
 been seen in close and apparently confidential conversa- 
 tion with the regimental officers, and then, without any 
 leave-taking, were gone ! No one of the private sol- 
 diers could tell anything about their destination. In 
 a moment the hints of Mitchel connected themselves, in 
 my mind, with the absence of these men. Had not 
 some secret enterprise been set on foot in which they 
 were engaged ? If there was any such scheme, I 
 would like to find it out, and, if still possible, take a 
 part in it. In addition to this motive for curiosity, one 
 of the absent men was a young cousin of mine, in whose 
 welfare I was deeply interested. 
 
 " Mitchel," I said, turning sharply on him, " I under- 
 stand that Frank Mills and those other men have been 
 sent into the enemy's lines to perform some important 
 and dangerous service. I want vou to tell me all 
 about it." 
 
 As soon as I uttered the words I knew I was right. 
 Mitchel was silent for a moment, and then asked who 
 had told me so much. 
 
 " No matter about that," I returned. " You can 
 trust me fully. Tell me what you know." 
 
 " I will," he answered, " for I am anxious about the 
 
 2 
 
14 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 boys myself, aud want to talk the matter over with 
 some friend. I am not sure that we did right in 
 letting: them go." 
 
 Rising, we strolled up the stream until we reached a 
 solitary place far away from the bridge and the noisy 
 workmen. Then getting a seat on a large rock, I 
 listened to Captain Mitchel's story. This conversation 
 is one of the most important epochs of my life. So 
 strange and romantic were the particulars to which I 
 listened, that it was difficult at first to give them perfect 
 credence. 
 
 Said Mitchel, " Do you remember a Mr. Andrews, 
 a Kentuckian, who was about our camp last fall ?" 
 
 At first I did not, but a moment after, I recollected 
 seeing a fine-looking, well-dressed man standing on the 
 street-corner in the town of Prestonburg, up in the 
 mountains of Eastern Kentucky. He held carelessly 
 on his arm a beautiful Winchester rifle, which I, in com- 
 mon with many others, had examined with great admi- 
 ration. I therefore answered Mitchel's question in the 
 affirmative, though I thought he was beginning rather 
 far away from the subject in hand. He continued, — 
 
 " Some of you maintained that he was a rebel citi- 
 zen, and possibly a spy, who was only pretending to 
 be a unionist because our army was at hand." 
 
 I said that such had been my own opinion when I 
 first saw him, for he was the very ideal of a magnificent 
 Southern gentleman, but that I had afterwards learned 
 that though he was a spy and secret agent, it was on 
 the Union side, and that he was high in the confi- 
 dence of our officers, adding that I had seen the same 
 man in our camp again, but had not spoken to him 
 after the first occasion. 
 
 " Well/' continued Mitchel, " he was, and is, a spy, 
 and has been of great service to us. But I sometimes 
 fear that we may have trusted him a little too far. 
 Our boys are now in Georgia with him." 
 
 I sprang up from my seat. This was startling 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 15 
 
 news. It had, indeed, been asserted by the camp-fires 
 — where all events are discussed, and where conjectures 
 too often pass for facts — that the missing men had 
 turned spies, but I had scouted the idea. I thought 
 that at most they might have been sent on ahead of us 
 a short distance, to seize some important post in con- 
 nection with similar details from other regiments, and 
 supported by cavalry. But we were a hundred and 
 fifty miles from the nearest point of the Georgian State 
 line. 
 
 I looked at my companion in astonishment, and ex- 
 claimed, " What on earth are they doing in Georgia ?" 
 
 " Andrews has taken them there," he said, " disguised 
 as Southern citizens, with the intention of capturing a 
 railroad train. He has also engaged a Southern man, 
 who is an engineer on the same railroad, to run their 
 locomotive, and when they get their train they will start 
 for our line and burn every bridge they pass over. 
 They will cut all the telegraph wires, and thus leave the 
 enemy in helpless rage behind them." 
 
 My imagination took fire at the picture his few words 
 had sketched. A train surprised by a handful of bold 
 men in the heart of the enemy's territory ; the passen- 
 gers and train hands forced to get out under threat of 
 instant death, and possibly a desperate fight before this 
 was accomplished ; then the wires cut, so that no 
 lightning message could be flashed ahead ; the secret 
 confederate — whom there might be a show of com- 
 pelling by force to mount the engine — set to his work ; 
 the train rushing on its way through a hostile country, 
 past the towns and camps of the enemy, but rendered 
 secure by the Wo elements of surprise and speed ; the 
 great bridges (like those at Green and Stone Rivers 
 and other places, which had cost us weary delays and 
 hard work in repairing), — all these bursting into flames 
 as they were passed, and possibly other damage done be- 
 fore the daring adventurers returned in triumph to our 
 own lines. I knew enough of war to understand, at a 
 
1(5 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 glance, the great military importance of thus severing 
 railroad communications, for had I not seen our whole 
 division brought to a halt, and General Mitchel ren- 
 dered almost furious with impatience over a single 
 burnt bridge? Besides, it required no particular in- 
 sight to reveal the immense moral effect upon an enemy 
 of such a bold stroke far in the centre of his territory. 
 It would tend to diffuse distrust and fear through all 
 the rebel armies if they were thus made to feel that no 
 place in their whole country was safe from the presence 
 and the blows of a daring adversary. 
 
 u Well, what do you think of it ?" said Mitchel, as 
 he saw my preoccupation. 
 
 "Why, it is the grandest thing I ever heard of!" 
 was my enthusiastic reply. " I wish I was with them. 
 But do you think that spy can be trusted ? Spies are 
 all the time betraying the confidence of one party or 
 the other, and if he should be false to us, he has the 
 lives of our boys in his hands. I have heard that he 
 has been over the lines several times, and if he has 
 been a secret rebel all the while, it would be a nice 
 stroke of business for him to lead down a party of our 
 best men and deliver them to the rebels." 
 
 " I have no fear of the fidelity of Andrews," said 
 Mitchel. " He has been too well proved. But I am 
 not so sure that he will be able to carry through all 
 that he has undertaken, or that our boys can preserve 
 their disguise until they reach the right point and are 
 ready for the blow. If they should be detected while 
 pretending to be rebels, it is not at all unlikely that 
 they will be treated as spies and hung up. I wish they 
 were back in camp again. But if they g^t through all 
 right and burn the bridges, we will make for Chatta- 
 nooga as fast as our legs can carry us. This is one of 
 the reasons that makes the general so anxious to have 
 that bridge done. If we should hear to-morrow, as 
 we may at any moment, that those Southern bridges 
 are smashed, it would be a race for Chattanooga with 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 17 
 
 all the odds in our favor. But you must not breathe 
 a word of this to one of the soldiers, or especially 
 write of it to the papers, or to any of the relatives of 
 the poor fellows, till they are back with us, — if they 
 ever come back ! Give me your candid opinion, was 
 it right to let them take such a risk ?" 
 
 Without the slightest hesitation I declared that it 
 was right, giving the reasons that seemed most weighty. 
 War is full of risks. In an obscure skirmish, or by a 
 chance shot from the picket-line, the most valuable life 
 may be put out. Now, if by a little additional risk a 
 few men can do the work of thousands, — the work that 
 if done in the ordinary mode would certainly cost a 
 score times as many lives as are imperilled, — the risk is 
 worth taking. Of course, it would not be right to send 
 men on such an enterprise without their consent, but 
 in the Union army it was never necessary to force men 
 into any dangerous enterprise. Volunteers were always 
 plenty enough. 
 
 I asked, further, how many men were engaged, and 
 learned with additional astonishment that the detach- 
 ment from our own regiment — only eight men — was 
 all. This force seemed totally inadequate to the great- 
 ness of the work, but I understood that the risk of 
 detection would multiply with the increase of numbers. 
 The very smallest number that could serve was, there- 
 fore, selected. If they succeeded, few were better than 
 many. 
 
 After a long conversation, Mitchel and I returned to 
 the working-party down the river. The burnt rem- 
 nants of the old railroad bridge and the rapidly rising 
 timbers of the* new had now a deeper interest than 
 ever. The completion of this bridge and the burning 
 of some others far in the South were the two events 
 for which that whole division, whose tents dotted the 
 meadows behind us, was unconsciously waiting. My 
 head was full of conjectures and plans as I walked 
 back through the twilight to join my messmates in the 
 i 2* 
 
18 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 tent. I could talk to no one of what I had heard, but as 
 I lay awake that night a most important resolution took 
 shape. I was weary of the slow movement of the 
 army, and of the monotony of a private soldier's ser- 
 vice. While trying carefully to do all my duty, and 
 winning a fair degree of approval from my officers, I 
 yet had no taste for military affairs. If by a little 
 extra hazard I could do more for the country, while 
 getting rid of distasteful routine and entering into 
 a new sphere of work, I was more than willing to 
 accept all the hazard involved. It was too late to 
 take part in the present attempt, but I resolved to be 
 prepared for any opportunity of the kind that might 
 again offer. 
 
 Accordingly, in the forenoon of the next day I went 
 up to regimental headquarters and told Colonel L. A. 
 Harris, of the Second Ohio, that I had a favor to ask 
 of him. Major (since General) Anson G. McCook, in 
 whose company I had served during the first three 
 months of the war, was also present. I told them I 
 had ascertained that some of our men had been sent 
 out on secret service lately, and that if any similar de- 
 tails should be made in the future, I wanted the oppor- 
 tunity of being included. Major McCook, while saying 
 some kind things about me, intimated a doubt whether 
 my defective vision — I was very near-sighted — might 
 not be a hindrance on any perilous service. Colonel 
 Harris, however, took a different view of the matter, 
 saying he thought that if I dressed in citizen's clothes, 
 and wore my spectacles (as I was accustomed to do even 
 in the ranks), no person in the South would suspect me 
 of being a soldier, and I was thus only the better fitted 
 for any secret service. McCook did not press his ob- 
 jection, and after learning the reason for my request 
 and trying in vain to find the source of my informa 
 tion, Colonel Harris said, — 
 
 " Pittenger, I don't know that we will ever send ar 
 more men out of camp in this manner, but I will gi' t 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 19 
 
 ray promise that if we do, you shall be the first man 
 called upon." 
 
 This was perfectly satisfactory. I returned to my 
 duty, and in the routine of camp-life waited for several 
 days in impatient anxiety. I dreamed at night of 
 burning bridges and startling adventures. Dutv on 
 picket and in the camp lines, however, with other ex- 
 citements, began to weaken the impression, as day after 
 day rolled by with no recurrence of the subject. But 
 one day it was told me by a friend that one of the miss- 
 ing men, a member of Company C, was back again in 
 his usual place in line. For some time attempts to get 
 him to say where he had been, and whether alone or in 
 company, were in vain. He would speak no word by 
 which any one could divine the nature of his errand 
 while away from us, or the degree of success he had 
 met with. I was much disquieted by his return alone, 
 but having no special acquaintance, I did not like to 
 try to get any information directly from him. But I 
 soon learned that he had gone as far as Chattanooga 
 and had turned back, — some of his comrades after- 
 wards thought because he became so sensible of the 
 difficulties of his attempt that he resolved to go no 
 further in it, — a determination which he had a perfect 
 right to make, and which in no way impugned his 
 character as a soldier. His own explanation, after- 
 wards given, which I saw no reason to doubt, was more 
 dramatic. He said that he had gone in disguise as far 
 as Chattanooga, but had there been recognized by a 
 rebel soldier, who was an old acquaintance, and who 
 knew that he belonged to the Union army. This man 
 heard him telling his false story in a public place with- 
 out contradicting him, but as soon as he could do so 
 unobserved, drew him aside and declared that he re- 
 membered him, and knew he was down there disguised 
 for some bad purpose ; but that if he would pledge 
 himself to return immediately to the Union lines, he 
 would, for the sake of their former friendship, refrain 
 
20 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 from denouncing him, otherwise his own sense of duty 
 would require him to report all he knew to the com- 
 mander of the post. Under such circumstances our 
 comrade judged it most prudent to give and keep the 
 pledge required. 
 
 At length the bridge over Stone River was com- 
 pleted, and there was great rejoicing as the first train, 
 laden with army supplies, passed over it from Nash- 
 ville. Next morning the order was given to the whole 
 division to prepare three days' rations. This was in- 
 variably the signal for a decided movement. Our lost 
 comrades were still away, and no word had reached the 
 rank and file of the army of any unusual occurrence 
 southward. The uneasiness of General Mitchel and 
 the regimental officers of the Second Ohio, and espe- 
 cially of Captain Sarratt, who commanded the company 
 to which I belonged, and my friend, Captain Mitchel, 
 was apparent to any careful observer. 
 
 Just before the march began, while we were standing 
 in line early the next morning, with the camp all 
 broken up, our knapsacks swung, and our haversacks 
 filled with rations, waiting only for the word " for- 
 ward/ 7 Captain Mitchel came over to me and uttered a 
 sentence, in a half whisper, that went through me like 
 an electric shock. His message was simply this : " Mills 
 is back, and has gone up to headquarters to report." 
 While standing in my place in the ranks I could give 
 no answer, nor could I ask any question, but my mind 
 was full of surmises. Had the adventurers succeeded, 
 and were we now on our way to do our part in the 
 great plan, — to strike swift and far into the South,, 
 while the enemy's communications were broken? That 
 would involve hard fighting and stirring scenes not far 
 ahead. Had they failed ? If so, there would prob- 
 ably be other attempts, — that is, if the secret had been 
 kept, — and then I would have a part in the risk and 
 the adventure. At any rate, I was exceeding glad of 
 Mills's return, and I knew that I would find out all 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 21 
 
 about it as soon as I could get to talk with him alone. 
 As Company K — Mitchel's — was next my own in the 
 line, that opportunity, even on the march, would not 
 be long delayed. 
 
 Soon the command to march was given, and the 
 column moved southward towards Shelbyville, about 
 twenty-five miles distant. Before noon I dropped 
 out of my place, sought and found Mills, and as we 
 plodded along, in the loose order allowed on long 
 marches, we had no difficulty in remaining together, 
 and yet far enough from other soldiers to talk in 
 perfect security. The whole history of my relative's 
 adventures was fully laid open before me. I found 
 that all Mitchel had narrated was perfectly accurate, 
 but the enormous obstacles to be encountered by such 
 an expedition were now brought much more plainly 
 into view. Mills said that he and his companions had 
 first of all exchanged their uniforms for citizen's clothes, 
 and made provision for the safety of their arms and 
 personal effects in the camp. Then, under the direction 
 of Andrews, they had scattered in the mountains, to 
 the eastward of our camp, representing themselves as 
 refugees from the oppressions of the Union troops in 
 Kentucky, and had journeyed thus to Chattanooga. 
 That town had been reached in about four days. My 
 friend pictured in lively colors the manner in which 
 he had been compelled to verbally abuse the Union 
 cause, and join in praise of the leaders and principles 
 of Secession. The squad to which he belonged had no 
 particular difficulty in passing themselves as good 
 rebels. The man who first returned had been less 
 fortunate. At Chattanooga they took passage on the 
 «ars for Atlanta, and in due time reached that place, 
 where they scattered themselves among the several 
 hotels and lived plentifully (they had an abundant 
 supply of money) for three days longer. Each hour 
 Andrews anticipated the arrival of that Confederate 
 engineer of whom Mitchel had spoken to me. But he 
 
22 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 did not come. All possible inquiries were guardedly 
 made concerning him, for it was not safe to appear too 
 inquisitive. 
 
 u How did you feel while thus waiting in suspense ?" 
 I asked. 
 
 " I felt as if I wanted to be back in camp, and had 
 no business to be in that town any longer," replied 
 Frank. " To hear the curses and threats made against 
 everything that belonged to the Union, and to be 
 obliged to keep perfectly quiet, or to agree with them, 
 was more than I could easily endure. And the folks 
 about the hotel were more anxious every day to know 
 who I was, and I had to tell them lies without number. 
 I resolved not to stand it much longer." 
 
 " Were you really afraid of being found out, 
 Frank ?" I queried. " Did you consider yourself in 
 much danger?" 
 
 With great emphasis he answered, " No money could 
 hire me to put myself in such a position again. I 
 would have run away if we had been obliged to stay 
 much longer." 
 
 This man was as brave as any human being. I had 
 seen him perfectly cool and serene under circumstances 
 of great danger, when every one else in the company 
 betrayed some sign of fear. I did not suspect him of 
 exaggerating the perils of the situation in which he 
 was placed, and, having a deep personal interest in the 
 matter, I put the question bluntly, — 
 
 "If men should be wanted to try this thing again, 
 would vou not go ?" 
 
 " Never ! ' was the unequivocal response. " If An- 
 drews and Mitchel want bridges burned, they can go 
 themselves and burn them ! I will do my duty as a 
 soldier, but as to going out among those " 
 
 The terms applied, and the energy given to the ac- 
 companying description of the horror of being alone 
 among blood-thirsty enemies, feeling that, sleeping or 
 waking, a rope was around one's neck, just ready to be 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 23 
 
 tightened on the utterance of a single careless word, 
 it is not necessary to transcribe here. 
 
 " But why did not that man come to help you ? Did 
 you find out anything about him ?" 
 
 " Andrews told us, on the third day after we had 
 reached- Atlanta, that he had heard through some of 
 the railway officials that the engineer had been trans- 
 ferred to the Mobile and Ohio Railroad to help in run- 
 ning troops to Corinth" (this was a short time before 
 the battle of Shiloh). " But my own opinion is that 
 the man got scared and had himself transferred there 
 to get out of a bad scrape." 
 
 " But how did Andrews take this disappointment ?" 
 
 " He was very much cast down. He asked each of us 
 if we had ever been engineers or firemen. But no one 
 had ever occupied such a position. He hated terribly 
 to give up ; but, as nothing more could be done, he at 
 last told us we might work our way back to camp." 
 
 " Where are the other boys ?" 
 
 " I suppose they are on their way. It was harder 
 getting back than going down. Everybody seemed 
 to think it natural for us to be going South ; but 
 we had to make all kind of excuses for i heading the 
 wrong way/ as they called it. We had to scatter 
 to avoid observation, and travel part of the way by 
 night; and if some of them are not discovered and 
 either put into the rebel army or hung, I will be very 
 glad." 
 
 " Do you think Andrews will now give up the job 
 of burning those bridges, or will he try again ?" 
 
 " If he can get men to go, you may be sure he will 
 keep at it until he succeeds or dies. But I would never 
 go a°:ain or advise anv one else to do so. Why, he said 
 he would stay down several days after we left and make 
 a complete survey of the line, for the very purpose of 
 trying over again." 
 
 " What do you think of Andrews himself? Can he 
 be trusted ?" 
 
24 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " Yes ; he's as true as steel, and very smart. But 1 
 am afraid he will venture a little too far, both for him- 
 self and for those with him, one of these days." 
 
 I have omitted the many striking; incidents that Mills 
 narrated to me in the course of this conversation, which 
 was more interesting to me than any romance, because 
 adventures very similar in their general character to 
 those he described will be fully narrated in another 
 place. 
 
 I found my way back to my proper place in the regi- 
 ment, feeling sure that another attempt to destroy the 
 Southern communications would be made, in which I 
 must engage if I did not positively " back out" ; con- 
 vinced, also, that it would involve hard labor, much 
 peril, and, even with these, great risk of failure. 
 
 The next day others of the Andrews party returned 
 to us, and corroborated the accounts given by Mills. 
 The day following the remainder arrived in safety. 
 They were all glad to get back, and were unanimous 
 in declaring that thev would not again venture dis- 
 guised into the enemy's country under any circum- 
 stances. They spoke very sparingly about their ex- 
 periences, for the officers had cautioned them to say 
 but little, in view of the possibility of a new venture 
 of the same character. 
 
 On Saturday evening, the 5th of April, we camped 
 on the banks of Duck River, in some pleasant meadows 
 about a mile from the town of Shelby vi lie. The next 
 day was delightful. The spring of 1862 opened very 
 early, and now the meadows were verdant and the 
 birds singing. The calm, quiet, and beauty of that 
 Sabbath, with the white tents dotting the level fields, 
 and the soldiers luxuriating in one dav of rest after the 
 hard march, which had been rendered more fatiguing 
 by the accompaniments of rain and mud, form a very 
 pleasant picture in memory. The next Sabbath came 
 to me under entirely different circumstances. I felt 
 the pressure of a vague melancholy resting upon me, — 
 
A SECRET EXPEDITION. 25 
 
 possibly it was only that pensive feeling often inspired 
 by a fresh, bright, and quiet day in early spring; pos- 
 sibly the faint shadow of coming evil. I devoted the 
 greater part of the day to writing letters to friends and 
 newspapers, — the last I wrote for weary months. On 
 this same day — though we knew it not till afterwards — 
 began the great battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing. 
 one hundred and fifty miles west of us. 
 
 On Monday Andrews himself returned to our lines, 
 and asked, as I had anticipated, for permission to renew 
 his enterprise. He had spent several days along the 
 line of the Western and Atlantic Railroad, learning the 
 number of trains, their times of running, and every- 
 thing else likely to be useful. He had then started for 
 camp, and being provided with passes, so that he could 
 take the inost direct road, besides being well mounted, 
 he came in almost as soon as the private soldiers who 
 started much sooner. 
 
 But not one of the first party would return. They 
 were tired of feeling, as one of them expressed it, that 
 their necks depended upon a lie. Like Schiller's diver, 
 they had plunged once into the abyss and returned in 
 safety ; but, unlike that venturous youth, they would 
 not make the second and fatal trial. 
 
 The new expedition, as proposed by Andrews, differed 
 in three particulars from the first. He wanted a larger 
 force, — twenty-four men instead of eight. He had seen 
 that it was possible to carry a considerable number of 
 men in disguise to the scene of action, and the number 
 now requested was none too large for the capture of a 
 full railway train or the overpowering of guards at im- 
 portant bridges. He also wanted some engineers to be 
 detailed, in order that no mishap might leave them 
 without the power of running their train. Five were 
 secured, thus leaving an ample margin, as it was be- 
 lieved, for the possibility of capture on the way down, 
 or of death by the enemy's bullets in the hour of con- 
 flict. It thus became an enterprise completely fitted 
 
2(3 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 out in Federal lines, without any reliance on help from 
 the South. The third point of difference was of more 
 importance than a casual glance revealed. The first 
 expedition had an abundance of time. A week's delay, 
 even after the soldiers were in the enemy's country, 
 would have involved no risk, save that of discovery, — 
 would, indeed, have been an advantage, as it would 
 allow less time for the repair of damages done to the 
 Southern railroads before Mitchel's arrival at Chatta- 
 nooga. But now it was different. The whole division 
 was ready to advance, its course being clearly indicated 
 to the enemy, and moments became precious. By 
 making the utmost speed it was still possible to have 
 the bridges burned at the right time, but every hour's 
 delay would render the work more difficult, and its suc- 
 cess more uncertain. The bearing of this question of 
 time will be made painfully apparent in our story. 
 
 General Mitchel received the report of Mr. Andrews 
 (which also embraced all the information the most skil- 
 ful spy could have brought concerning the nature and 
 disposition of the enemy's forces), approved his prudence 
 in ordering the return of the soldiers, and sanctioned 
 the second attempt. He, however, advised caution, 
 saying that Andrews must not strike unless he saw a 
 good prospect of success ; but he made no objection to 
 the increase of force, provided volunteers could be ob- 
 tained. It was easy to secure the five engineers asked 
 for without going beyond the limits of the three Ohio 
 regiments composing General SilPs brigade. Of the 
 detail as finally made out, nine men belonged to the 
 Twenty-first, eight to the Thirty-third, and seven to 
 the Second Ohio Regiments. 
 
MIDNIGHT CONSULTATION. 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MIDNIGHT CONSULTATION. 
 
 On Monday, April 7, while I was inside my tent 
 engaged in some of the little details of work which oc- 
 cupy a soldier's time in camp, a comrade pulled open 
 the canvas door and called out, — 
 
 " Pittenger, Captain Sarratt is looking for you." 
 
 I went out and met the captain, and together we 
 walked up the street formed by the two rows of tents 
 to the larger tent occupied by the company officers, 
 which stood across the street at the upper end. He 
 took me inside, and then said, with a sigh, — 
 
 " Colonel Harris has just sent me word that you are 
 to go with Andrews down to Georgia. I do not know 
 why he has selected you, but I advise you not to go. 
 You have perfect liberty to refuse." 
 
 I told him that so far from refusing my mind was 
 fully made up to accept, and that I had already ar- 
 ranged with Colonel Harris to that effect. Sarratt was 
 surprised to hear this, but urged every argument in his 
 power to dissuade me ; telling me that the safe return 
 of the four who had been out on the former expedition 
 had lifted a great burden from his heart ; but that if I 
 went, it would be no better than before. I was deeply 
 moved by his evident concern, but had gone too far to 
 retract. I asked if any other member of our company 
 was to go. He answered in the negative, saying that 
 he understood that but one from each company was to 
 be detailed. Finding persuasion in vain, he gave me 
 a pass to Shelbyville, where I could see Andrews and 
 procure all necessaries for the journey. I left him, 
 deeply impressed by the kindness of the man, which 
 
28 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 led him to regard the soldiers under his command as 
 children, for whose welfare he felt himself in a great 
 degree responsible. 
 
 No one of my comrades yet knew of the intended 
 expedition. In the afternoon I took a friend with me 
 and strolled into Shelbvville, a well-built village of a 
 few hundred inhabitants, and purchased some articles 
 of clothing, but was not able to find a complete suit. 
 A number of persons were engaged in making similar 
 purchases — among others, the sergeant-major of our 
 regiment, Marion Ross. By watching the character 
 of his purchases and by a few careful questions, I found 
 that his business was the same as my own. No side- 
 arms could be found, but I knew that all lack in that 
 direction could easily be supplied in camp. Getting 
 away from all other company, Ross and I strayed 
 through the town for some time, keeping a sharp look- 
 out, until, at length, we saw Andrews. His striking 
 personal appearance made it easy to recognize him, and, 
 approaching, we told him that we were ordered to re- 
 port to him. After scrutinizing us a moment, and ask- 
 ing us the company and rank we held, he told us that 
 it would not be prudent to talk much. in so public a 
 place, but to overtake him after dark a mile or more 
 east of Shelbvville, on the road toward Wartrace, and 
 he would there give us full explanations, and allow us 
 to return to our regiments if not satisfied with his 
 plans. With these few words we parted from him, and 
 went back to our tents for final arrangements. I bor- 
 rowed the additional clothing I needed from one of the 
 former adventurers. All my arms and equipments I 
 put carefully in order, packed my uniform in my knap- 
 sack to be left in the care of the proper authorities, ar- 
 rayed myself in citizen's clothes, and stepped out of my 
 tent. The soldiers who were idling around passed the. 
 word to their comrades who .were in their tents, read- 
 ing, playing cards, or amusing themselves in the various 
 ways incident to camp-life, and soon almost the whole 
 
MIDNIGHT CONSULTATION. 99 
 
 company — indeed, all who were not absent on guard 
 duty — thronged around and commenced all kinds of 
 questions. " Pittenger, going to desert ? Going home ? 
 Going out as a spy ? Got a discharge ? Got a fur- 
 lough ?" — were a few of the inquiries that rained from 
 every quarter. At the same time I heard it asserted 
 that several other men were dressing up in the same 
 manner. I answered all questions in the affirmative, 
 and stepped over to the company street adjoining our 
 own — that of Company K — and sought the tent in 
 which Frank Mills messed. He had a very good re- 
 volver which I wanted to borrow. As I entered, he 
 read the situation in a glance. 
 
 " So, you are going with Andrews/ 7 
 
 I nodded, and hastened to add, "I want your re- 
 volver." 
 
 u You are welcome to the revolver, but if you know 
 when you are well off you will stay where you are. 
 Because I was fool enough to go, it does not follow 
 that you need be." 
 
 I did not argue the question, but he saw that it was 
 settled, and he gave me the weapon, with a liberal sup- 
 ply of cartridges. I was now ready, and the gravity 
 of the situation forced itself more clearly upon my ap- 
 prehension. I did not expect to return to camp until 
 the proposed enterprise had been accomplished. Con- 
 sidering, therefore, that so much was already known in 
 camp from the report of the former party, and from 
 seeing me arrayed as I was, I could not understand 
 that it would be any advantage for me to steal away 
 unnoticed. With this view, I went up to Captain 
 Sarratt's quarters and bade him good-by. He was al- 
 most overcome with emotion, and could not muster a 
 single one of his accustomed good-natured jokes. Then 
 came the farewells to tried comrades. Few of them 
 had any distinct conception of the nature of my errand, 
 but they knew it was secret and dangerous, and this 
 was enough to excite their apprehension. They labored 
 
 3* 
 
30 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 hard to dissuade me. The devotion of one of their 
 number, my inseparable companion, Alexander Mills, 
 was especially affecting. Though he had been lying 
 in our tent very sick all clay, he now crawled to the 
 door and begged me not to go. Finding that 1 was 
 fully determined, he hurried as fast as his tottering 
 steps would allow to headquarters, for permission to go 
 along! Notwithstanding his physical inability, he per- 
 sisted in his request until the colonel threatened to 
 have him put under arrest. Had he been well he 
 would not have been refused, as he was a most excel- 
 lent soldier; but in the trying times that followed, it 
 was a great satisfaction to me that he was left behind. 
 Poor fellow ! he lost his life while carrying the flag 
 of the Second Ohio at the battle of Lookout Mountain, 
 eighteen months later, and now sleeps in the beautiful 
 National Cemetery at Chattanooga, — that town towards 
 which our steps were now bent. 
 
 When all the farewells were over I strolled back to 
 Shelby ville, meeting Sergeant Ross as we had arranged, 
 and passed the time pleasantly with him in looking 
 about the village until about dark, when we inquired 
 the road to Wartrace, and started for the rendezvous 
 that Andrews had appointed. We walked very leis- 
 urely, expecting that some of our number, who were 
 probably behind, would soon overtake us, and having 
 a curiosity to ascertain whether we could recognize 
 them by speech or manner as belonging to our party. 
 We saw several persons, but they were travelling the 
 opposite way, and we began to be apprehensive that, 
 we had taken the wrong road. 
 
 As we journeyed on, we noticed a house surrounded 
 by a yard, and Ross proposed getting a drink of water. 
 Crossing the fence we went up to the house, but before 
 we reached the door, a dog came up silently behind my 
 companion, and, biting his leg, ran under the house 
 before a revolver could be drawn. 
 
 The bite was not severe, and I laughed heartily at 
 
MIDNIGHT CONSULTATION. 31 
 
 his mishap ; but after drinking, and before reaching 
 the fence, the same dog rushed out once more. Ross 
 saw him in time, and sprang over the fence, but I sat 
 on the top of it in fancied security. The malicious 
 creature sprang at me, seized my coat, and tore a large 
 piece out of it. The same coat, thus torn, I wore 
 during the whole of the year through which our ad- 
 ventures extended. The incident was trivial, but in 
 the deepening darkness, with a thunder-storm, which 
 now began to mutter in the distance, approaching, un- 
 certain as to where our comrades were, and at the be- 
 ginning of a desperate enterprise, it stands out in memory 
 with lurid distinctness. To a superstitious person it 
 might have seemed ominous of the results of that ex- 
 pedition in which Ross perished, and from which I re- 
 turned a shattered and disabled invalid. 
 
 A pistol-shot easily cleared us of the dog, and we 
 pursued our way, — not rejoicingly, for our situation 
 grew every moment more perplexing. Not one of 
 our comrades was visible, and we were almost certain 
 we had taken the wrong road. Finally, we resolved 
 to retrace our steps, and try to get in Shelbyville 
 some better clue to our journey. Unless we could ob- 
 tain further instructions, we knew not how or where 
 to go. We did not like to return to camp, for that 
 would probably delay us too long to take part in the 
 enterprise, and the failure to go, after our affecting 
 leave-taking, would have formed a ludicrous anticli- 
 max, and probably have been charged to cowardice. At 
 a cross-road in sight of Shelbyville, where we felt sure 
 that any of the adventurers who obeyed the directions 
 we had received must pass, we sat down and waited 
 nearly an hour longer. 
 
 Our patience was rewarded. We had started too 
 soon, and from this miscalculation all our perplexity 
 arose. A few men, whom we recognized almost in- 
 stinctively as belonging to our party, came along the 
 road in the right direction. A little guarded conver- 
 
32 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 sation showed us that we were right, and we strolled 
 slowly on with them.. Shortly afterwards others over- 
 took us, among whom was Andrews. This was a great 
 relief, as we now had a guide. Soon we were as far 
 from Shelbyville as Ross and I alone had been, and 
 a few hundred yards farther on fell in with still other 
 men. Our party had so greatly increased as to be quite 
 conspicuous, and it was advisable to add still further 
 security to the cover of the night. Accordingly, we 
 left the road for some distance, and, marching silently, 
 were soon at the appointed rendezvous. 
 
 A little thicket of dead and withered trees, a short 
 distance from the road, and sufficiently open to assure 
 us that no listener was near, was the place of our assem- 
 blage. Never was a consultation preparatory to some 
 desperate deed held under more fitting circumstances. 
 The storm which had been gathering all the evening 
 was now near. Black clouds covered one half the sky, 
 and the young moon, low down in the west, was soon 
 obscured. The frequent flashes of lightning, more vivid 
 in the darkness, and the low roll of thunder that fol- 
 lowed, grew continually more emphatic, forming most 
 startling interruptions to the earnest but suppressed 
 words of our leader. It is very singular that amid 
 these ominous surroundings, which fitted so well the 
 character of the business in hand, one ordinary sound 
 stands out in my memory, far more clear and distinct 
 than any part of the scene. Far off I heard the bark or 
 howl of a dog, — no doubt at some farm-house, — roused 
 either by the coming storm which began to sway the leaf- 
 less boughs above us, or by the passing of some belated 
 traveller. Popular superstition would probably have 
 considered such a sound as ominous of evil ; and most 
 of us are superstitious when young, in the dark, and 
 entering upon unknown dangers. 
 
 We formed a close circle around Mr. Andrews while 
 he revealed to us his daring plans. In a voice as soft 
 and low as a woman's, but tremulous with suppressed 
 
hi 
 p 
 m 
 
MIDNIGHT CONSULTATION. 33 
 
 enthusiasm, he painted the greatness of the project we 
 were to attempt, the sublimity of rushing through a 
 hostile country at the full speed of steam, leaving flaming 
 bridges and raging but powerless foes behind. But he 
 did not disguise the dangers to be encountered. 
 
 " Soldiers," he said, " if you are detected while en- 
 gaged in this business, the great probability is that you 
 will be put to death, — hung as spies, or massacred by 
 a mob. I want you to clearly understand this, and if 
 you are not willing to take the risk, return to camp, 
 and keep perfectly quiet about it." 
 
 A murmur all around the circle conveyed the assur- 
 ance that we would follow him to the last extremity. 
 
 " Our plan," he continued, " is simply this : you are 
 to travel on foot, or by any conveyance you can hire, 
 either to Chattanooga or some station not far from that 
 point on the Memphis and Charleston Railroad ; then 
 you can take passage on the cars down to Marietta ; 
 that will be our next place of assembling, and not At- 
 lanta. You must be there by Thursday evening, ready 
 to take passage on the cars northward again by Friday 
 morning. I will be there as soon as you, and tell you 
 what more is to be done." 
 
 "But how about money to pay our way?" was 
 asked. 
 
 " I have plenty of Confederate money, and will share 
 it among you before we part. As to your story, you 
 cannot do better than to tell everybody that you are 
 Kentuckians coming South to get away from the 
 Yankees, and to join the Confederate army ; only be 
 careful to have always some plausible reason for going 
 farther before joining. A great many Kentuckians 
 have gone South by this route, and are very heartily re- 
 ceived. If you will go eastward through War trace and 
 Manchester, you will get into the track they usually 
 take, and by then turning south, you will not appear 
 to be heading from the Union army. If any one of 
 you are questioned closely, you may say you are from 
 
34 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Fleming County, for I happen to know that no soldiero 
 from that county are in this part of the country." 
 
 All of these directions were eagerly listened to, but 
 the closing one afterwards bore disastrous fruit. 
 
 One of the soldiers asked, " If any of us are sus- 
 pected, and find we can't get away, what would you 
 ad vise us to do ?" 
 
 '*' Enlist without hesitation in the rebel army/' was 
 the response. "You are fully authorized to do that, 
 and no one of this party will be accused of desertion, 
 even if captured among the rebels. I would be sorry 
 to lose any one of you, but it will be far better that you 
 should serve awhile with the enemy than to acknowl- 
 edge who vou are, and thus risk the disclosure of the 
 enterprise." 
 
 " But is it likely that we could get the chance thus 
 to enlist?" it was further asked. 
 
 "Most certainly," said Andrews. " They are taking 
 all the prisoners out of the jails and enlisting them. 
 They are picking up men who have run away from the 
 conscription wherever they can find them, and serving 
 them in the same manner. If you tell your story and 
 stick to it, even if they are not satisfied that you are 
 telling the truth, they will put you into the service. 
 You can stay until some dark night on picket. But 
 I hope you will escape all trouble, and all meet me at 
 Marietta safely. Break this party up into squads of 
 three or four, and don't recognize each other on the 
 way. I will ride along the same country you are trav- 
 elling, and give you any help or direction in my power. 
 But you must not recognize me unless sure that we are 
 not observed." 
 
 There was but one subject on which I cared to ask 
 any questions, and that related to a distant contingency. 
 I was well informed as to the first part of the intended 
 enterprise. 
 
 " Suppose we succeed in capturing the train," I said, 
 " and in burning the bridges, are we then to leave the 
 
MIDNIGHT CONSULTATION. 35 
 
 train, and try to steal back to our lines in the same way 
 we are now going South ?" 
 
 "By no means," replied Mr. Andrews. "We will 
 run the train right through Chattanooga, and westward 
 until we meet Mitchel, who by that time will be coming 
 eastward on the road from Memphis. If we should not 
 quite reach him, we will get so close that we can dash 
 through in a body." 
 
 This was satisfactory as far as it went, but there was 
 still another contingency. More than anything else I 
 dreaded being left alone in an unknown country. 
 
 " If we fail to run the captured train through Chat- 
 tanooga, will we then disperse or stick together ?" 
 
 "After we meet at Marietta, we will keep together, 
 and, if necessary, cut our way back to our own lines. 
 Form your squads now, and I will give out the money." 
 
 Swiftly we selected our companions. There was lit- 
 tle time for choice. Most of the men were strangers. 
 The darkness was intense, and the thunder-peals almost 
 overhead. In a moment we formed six or seven little 
 groups. My former comrade, Ross, stood with another 
 man or two beside Andrews. Two men from Captain 
 MitchePs company and one from the next company to 
 that in the regimental line stood by my side. Andrews 
 went from group to group, giving out the money freely, 
 and answering questions that were still asked. When 
 this was accomplished, he addressed himself once more 
 to the whole number, and we crowded around to listen 
 to his parting words. They gave us the fullest insight 
 into the whole plan we had yet received. 
 
 " To-morrow morning," said he, " Mitchel, with his 
 whole army, will start on a forced march right south to 
 Huntsville. He will capture that town not later than 
 Friday (it was now Monday night), and will then turn 
 east towards Chattanooga. We must burn the bridges 
 south of Chattanooga the same clay, for after that, the 
 road will be crowded with trains bringing reinforce- 
 ments against him and running property away, and 
 
36 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 our task will be very much harder. So we have no 
 time to lose. We must be at Marietta on Thursday 
 evening. The last train for that station leaves Chatta- 
 nooga at five o'clock in the afternoon. Be sure to catch 
 it. Good-by." 
 
 He gave each of us his hand with a hearty pressure 
 and fervent good wishes. Not many moments after, the 
 storm broke over us with all its fury. The rain fell in 
 torrents. The last glimpse I caught of Andrews as 
 my party of four hurried on their prescribed course 
 was by means of a broad glare of lightning that made 
 the drenched landscape for a moment as bright as day. 
 He had just parted from the last group and was gazing 
 after us. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 
 
 Who was this Mr. Andrews, from whom we had 
 just parted in storm and darkness, — the man from 
 whose brain sprang the Chattanooga Railroad Expedi- 
 tion, and to whose keeping we had so fearlessly com- 
 mitted our lives ? Few of us knew much about him at 
 that time, but became wiser afterwards. As he is the 
 hero of the earlier part of this story, it may be well to 
 give the reader the benefit of all the information as to 
 his character and history subsequently obtained. 
 
 Mr. J. J. Andrews was horn in that part of Western 
 Virginia known as the " Pan Handle/' on the eastern 
 bank of the Ohio River, and only separated from my 
 own county of Jefferson by that stream. While quite 
 young he had removed to the mountains of Eastern 
 Kentucky, settling in Flemings County. Here he ac- 
 quired considerable wealth, but at the outbreak of the 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 37 
 
 civil war lost most of it again. While in business here 
 lie travelled over much of the South, and became ac- 
 quainted with many men whom the war afterwards 
 threw into prominence. At the first outbreak of hos- 
 tilities he joined the Union army, not as a soldier, but 
 in the still more useful and dangerous character of a 
 spy and secret negotiator. He accompanied General 
 Nelson in his Eastern Kentucky campaign, on which 
 occasion I had seen him at Prestonburg, and afterwards 
 he journeyed back and forth two or three times from 
 Nashville before the capture of that city. He also 
 spent several days in Fort Donelson during the week 
 preceding its capture by General Grant. At this place 
 he narrowly escaped detection. Subsequently he vis- 
 ited Atlanta and brought back much valuable informa- 
 tion. By representing himself as a blockade-runner, 
 and carrying southward through our lines articles of 
 small bulk but of great value to the enemy, he secured 
 their confidence and brought back information a hun- 
 dredfold more valuable. This business was pecuni- 
 arily profitable to himself as well as very serviceable 
 to the Union army. A Mr. Whiteman, of Nashville, 
 afterwards testified that he had paid him ten thou- 
 sand dollars for one cargo, the most of which was clear 
 profit. Some of the Southern officers with whom he 
 was intimate had bestowed upon him passes authorizing 
 him to come and go through their lines at pleasure. It 
 is not my intention to offer any apology for a man who 
 thus betrays the confidence even of rebels. What jus- 
 tice requires to be said on this subject will find a more 
 appropriate place in explaining the position of those 
 who accompanied him in his last and most perilous 
 journey. His occupation was one of the utmost dan- 
 ger, and he could not expect much mercy if detected. 
 He had even gone the length of taking the oath of al- 
 legiance to the Southern Confederacy, though he was 
 passionately loyal to the old government. Indeed, his 
 hatred for secession and everything connected with it 
 
 4 
 
38 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 had become the more intense from the very disguise lie- 
 so frequently assumed ; and the desire to work all pos- 
 sible injury to that cause had far more influence in in- 
 ducing him to pursue his perilous vocation than any 
 hope of reward. I have since been told by Southern 
 authorities that he acknowledged being promised fifty 
 thousand dollars reward in case he succeeded in de- 
 stroying the bridges from Atlanta to Chattanooga, but 
 I never heard of such a coritract. Certainly no reward 
 whatever was promised directly or indirectly to the 
 soldiers who accompanied him, and I never heard 
 Andrews himself speak of expecting any pecuniary 
 recompense. 
 
 Mr. Andrews was nearly six feet in height, of power 
 ful frame, black hair, and long, black, and silken 
 beard, Roman features, a high and expansive forehead,, 
 and a voice fine and soft as a woman's. Of polished 
 manners, stately presence, and more than ordinary per- 
 sonal beauty, wide information, great shrewdness and 
 sagacity, he was admirably fitted to win favor in a 
 community like that of the South, which has always 
 placed a high value on personal qualities. He had also 
 the clear forethought in devising complicated schemes, 
 and the calmness in the hour of danger necessary for 
 the perilous game he played. Carrying his life in his 
 hand whenever he ventured beyond the Union pickets, 
 involved continually in dangers, where a single thought- 
 less word, or even an unguarded look, might lead to 
 detection and death, he had learned to rely absolutely on 
 his own resources, and to contemplate w r ith easy famili- 
 arity en;erprises that would have looked like sheer 
 madness to one without this preliminary drill. 
 
 But it was said that even he had grown tired of this 
 perpetual risk, and intended, if successful in this last 
 and most difficult enterprise, to retire to peaceful life. 
 A tender influence conspired to the same end, and im- 
 parts a dash of romance to his story. He was engaged 
 to be married in the following Juiip, and intended then 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 39 
 
 to retire from the army. Alas ! June had a far different 
 fate in store for him. 
 
 At our interview in the afternoon, as well as in the 
 midnight consultation, Andrews impressed me as a man 
 who combined intellect and refinement with the most 
 dauntless courage. Yet his pensive manner, slow 
 speech, and soft voice indicated not obscurely what I 
 afterwards found to be almost his only fault as a leader, 
 — a hesitancy in deciding important questions on the 
 spur of the moment, and in backing his decision by 
 prompt, vigorous action. This did not detract from 
 his value as a secret agent when alone, for then all his 
 actions were premeditated and accomplished with sur- 
 passing coolness and bravery ; but it was otherwise in 
 commanding;; men in startling and unforeseen emergen- 
 cies. This trait of character will be more fully devel- 
 oped in the course of the story. 
 
 How were the soldiers selected who assembled that 
 evening at the rendezvous ? This question was asked 
 with curiosity and wonder by the enemy, and is of 
 great importance in estimating the treatment of such 
 of their number as were afterwards captured. The 
 enemy could not, by their utmost exertions, obtain cor- 
 rect information on this subject; but there is now no 
 reason for reticence. The nature of the enterprise was 
 such that it could not be publicly explained and vol- 
 unteers called for, as it was quite possible that spies of 
 the enemy were in our camp ; neither was it right, ac- 
 cording to the laws of war, to divest soldiers of their 
 uniform and place the in under the orders of a spy 
 without their full consent. A medium course was 
 adopted, which avoided the opposite difficulties as far 
 as possible. The captains who were ordered to furnish 
 each a man gathered a few of their soldiers about them 
 in a quiet way, and stated that a volunteer was wanted 
 for a very dangerous enterprise. Of those who pro- 
 fessed willingness to go one was selected, taken aside 
 from the others, and told simply that he was to be sent 
 
40 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 disguised into the heart of the enemy's country, under 
 the orders of a Southern citizen, whom the command' 
 ing officers trusted fully. If they felt like engaging 
 in this service, with all its risks, they could see this 
 man and learn more ; but if not, they would be at lib- 
 erty to decline the dangerous honor. In one or two 
 oases these preliminary explanations were so vague that 
 the men addressed did not fairly understand the matter, 
 and subsequently declared that if they had been more 
 fully informed they would not have taken the first 
 step. After they met Andrews, however, they felt that 
 their reputation was at stake, and were not willing to 
 " back out.' 7 In one or two other cases the men were 
 merely selected by their captains and ordered, without 
 any preliminary explanations, to report to Andrews 
 outside of the lines. 
 
 Twenty-four men were thus detailed, twenty -three 
 of whom met at the rendezvous. The twenty-fourth 
 we never heard of; whether he tried to reach us and 
 failed, or whether some one of the captains who was to 
 furnish a man w T as unable to induce any one to accept 
 the dangerous honor, is uncertain. Indeed, there must 
 have been a failure of two men, for we had one with 
 us who was not originally expected to go. Captain 
 Mitchel had one man to furnish, and Perry G. Shad- 
 rach was chosen. William Campbell, a native of 
 Salineville, Ohio, but for many years a citizen of Ken- 
 tucky, a man of wild and adventurous habits, was vis- 
 iting Shadrach, and at once asked and obtained permis- 
 sion to go with him. Though he was only a civilian, 
 we always spoke of him as an enlisted soldier of Cap- 
 tain Mitchel's company. 
 
 While we are splashing along in the darkness and 
 under the fast-falling rain, it may be a good time to de- 
 scribe the members of the squad with whom I travelled. 
 Shadrach and Campbell were two of its members. The 
 former was small but roundly built, a merry, reckless 
 fellow, often profane, easily put out of temper, but very 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 4] 
 
 kind, and willing to sacrifice anything for a friend. 
 Campbell was physically the strongest man of the 
 whole party and possibly of Mitchells division as well. 
 He weighed two hundred and twenty pounds, was per- 
 fectly proportioned, very active, apparently fond of 
 danger for its own sake, and as true as steel. Neither 
 of these two men possessed much skill in duplicity or 
 shrewdness in planning. They were willing to leave 
 the task of asking and answering questions to their 
 comrades, but were always ready to bear their full 
 share in action. 
 
 The third, George D. Wilson, of Cincinnati, was of 
 very different character. He was not highly educated, 
 though he had read a great deal, but in natural shrewd- 
 ness I have rarely, if ever, known his equal. He was 
 of middle age, whilst most of us had just passed out- 
 of boyhood. He had traveled extensively, and had 
 observed and remembered everything he encountered. 
 In the use of fiery and scorching denunciations he was 
 a master, and took great delight in overwhelming an 
 opponent with an unmeasured torrent of abuse. In 
 action he was brave and cool ; no danger could frighten 
 him, no emergency find him unprepared. The friend- 
 ship I felt for him grew steadily until his tragic death. 
 I depended on his judgment and advice more than on 
 that of any one in the whole expedition. 
 
 The writer was first corporal in Company G of the 
 Second Kegiment of Ohio Volunteers, and had just 
 been promoted to the position of sergeant. I was 
 twenty-two years of age, a native of Jefferson County, 
 Ohio, had been reared on a farm, had taught school 
 in the winters, and more recently had entered on the 
 study of law. My opportunities for acquiring knowl- 
 edge were very limited, but had been tolerably well 
 improved. I had read a good many volumes and 
 gained a fair English education. For war and war- 
 like affairs I had not the slightest taste, and was indeed 
 so near-sighted that it was verv doubtful whether I 
 
 4* 
 
42 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 could ever make an efficient soldier. When the call 
 for three months' troops was made at the bombardment 
 of Fort Sumter, I felt that the emergency was so great 
 as to require the services of every patriot, and immedi- 
 ately enlisted. I did not then contemplate a longer 
 term of service, as I believed that the government 
 would be able to organize an adequate force within that 
 period from those who were better adapted to the pro- 
 fession of arms. My decision to enter the ranks was 
 not made without some forethought. Just previous to 
 putting my name to the enlistment paper, I took a soli- 
 tary night walk and tried to bring up in imagination 
 all the perils and discomforts that were possible in 
 military service, asking myself whether I was willing 
 to endure any of them that might fall to my lot as the 
 result of the step I then contemplated. Having de- 
 cided, I returned to the mass-meeting (convened in the 
 court-house of Steuben ville, Ohio) and entered my name 
 as a volunteer. The company formed that night was 
 hurried to Washington, and on the route was organized 
 with others into the Second Ohio Regiment. During 
 the three months' service our only experience of fight- 
 ing was in the badly-managed battle, or rather skirmish, 
 of Bull Run. On the battle-field, when the tide of 
 fortune turned against us, I concluded that I ought to 
 re-enlist for two reasons. It was hard to quit the army 
 with no experience but that of defeat, and the country's 
 need of men was still urgent. When the Second Ohio 
 was reorganized for three years' service, I therefore con- 
 tinued in the ranks. We were sent to Eastern Ken- 
 tucky, and succeeded, after some trifling engagements, 
 in clearing that part of the State from rebels. We were 
 then ordered to Louisville, and greatly to my delight 
 were put under the command of the astronomer Mitchel. 
 A few years before I had studied astronomy enthusias- 
 tically, and had even gone so far as to construct a ten- 
 foot telescope for my own use. This similarity of 
 tastes led me to feel greatly delighted, and almost ac- 
 
[1882- twenty years later.] 
 
 WILLIAM PITTBNGER. 
 
 Page 42. 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 43 
 
 quainted, with our new general. His fame as an as- 
 tronomer did not guarantee his success in war ; but the 
 ability displayed in one profession was a hopeful indi- 
 cation for the other. Our division participated in the 
 advance upon Bowling Green and afterwards upon 
 Nashville. This service offered no hardship except 
 wintry marches, for the capture of Fort Donelson by 
 General Grant had broken the enemy's resistance. 
 During this march there was not perfect accord between 
 Mitchel and his less energetic superior, General BuelL 
 Even the soldiers learned something of their disputes, 
 and w r ere much gratified when, at Nashville, Mitchel 
 was detached from the main army and left to operate 
 independently. In three days he marched to Murfrees- 
 borough, where this narrative opens. 
 
 On parting from Andrews we worked our way east- 
 ward, keeping not far from the railroad leading to 
 Wartrace. We did not wish to travel very far through 
 the rain, which was almost pouring down, but only to 
 get well beyond the Federal pickets, so as to have a 
 clear track for a long journey on the following day. 
 We wished to elude our own pickets, not only to avoid 
 detention, but to gain a little practice in such work. 
 It was our intention to get that night beyond War- 
 trace, where our last outpost in that direction was sta- 
 tioned ; but our progress was so slow and fatiguing 
 that we changed our minds, and determined to find a 
 lodging at once. This resolution was more easily made 
 than accomplished. 
 
 For a long time we searched in vain. It seemed as 
 if the country was uninhabited. At length the bark- 
 ing of a dog gave a clue, which was diligently followed. 
 The better to prosecute the search, we formed a liue 
 within hearing distance of each other, and then swept 
 around in all directions. A barn was our first dis- 
 covery, but we were so completely wet and chilled that 
 we resolved to persevere in hope of a bed and a fire. 
 
 Shortly after, finding a rude, double log house, we 
 
44 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 roused the inmates and demanded shelter for the night. 
 The farmer was evidently alarmed, but let us in, and 
 then began to investigate our character. 
 
 I narrate minutely the events that accompanied our 
 first setting out, not so much for their intrinsic interest, 
 as for the sake of giving a vivid idea of the conduct re- 
 quired by the nature of our expedition. This may also 
 be a good place to answer a question often asked, " How 
 can the equivocation and downright falsehood that fol- 
 lows be justified?" I am not bound to attempt any 
 formal justification; but it is easy to show that all the 
 moral question involved is only a branch of the larger 
 question as to the morality of war. In its very nature, 
 war is compounded of force and fraud in nearly equal 
 quantities. If one of the necessary ingredients be wrong, 
 the other can hardly be right. The most conscientious 
 general thinks nothing of making, movements with the 
 sole purpose of deceiving his adversary, or of writing 
 absolutely false despatches for the same purpose. If it 
 be right to kill our fellow-beings, I suppose it is also 
 ristfit to deceive them in order to get a better chance to 
 kill them ! The golden rule, which is the basis of all 
 morality, has but little place as between hostile armies 
 or nations. To find where some unsuspecting persons 
 are asleep, and steal upon them, begin to shoot and stab 
 before they can wake to defend themselves, would, in 
 peace, be thought a crime of the most dastardly and 
 ferocious character ; but, in war, it is only a surprise, 
 and, if successful, confers the greatest honor upon those 
 who plan and execute it. Are there two sets of morals, 
 — the one for peace, the other for war ? " But," the 
 objector may continue, " is not a constant resort to 
 falsehood in a secret expedition peculiarly dishonor- 
 able?" Let us look this question fairly in the face. 
 All armies employ spies, and the old adage, "The re- 
 ceiver is as bad as the thief," is here fully applicable. 
 A general who induces a man, by the hope of money 
 or promotion, to go disguised into the enemy's lines. 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 45 
 
 with a lie in his mouth, for the general's advantage, is 
 a full partner in the enterprise, and cannot throw off 
 his share of the guilt. It is true that the laws of war 
 throw all the odium on the spy. But the generals, and 
 not the spies, made the laws of war. Besides, there is 
 no necessary connection between the laws of war and 
 the laws of morality. The former are merely the rules 
 men construct for the regulation of the most tremendous 
 of all their games, and can never affect the essence of 
 right and wrong. I do not wish to argue the abstract 
 right of deceiving an enemy, or of deviating from the 
 strict truth for any purpose whatever. It is enough 
 for my purpose to show that deception is an element in 
 all war. The candid reader will also consider that 
 most of us were very young. The common sentiment 
 of the camp was that deceiving a rebel in any manner 
 was a meritorious action. With the full sanction of 
 our officers, we had entered upon an expedition which 
 required disguise and deception. We had been ex- 
 pressly told that we were not even to hesitate in join- 
 ing the rebel army, — which implied taking the oath 
 of allegiance to the Confederacy, — if that step became 
 necessary to avoid detection. In the whole of this ex- 
 pedition we were true to each other and to the mission 
 upon which we had entered, but we did not hesitate at 
 any kind or degree of untruthfulness directed towards 
 the enemy. Such was the effect of our resolution in 
 this direction that no one* so far as I remember, ever 
 expressed any sorrow or remorse for any of the false- 
 hoods that were so plentifully employed. Indeed, 
 while the war lasted, I did not find a single person, in 
 the army or out, who ever criticised our expedition from 
 the moral stand-point. There seemed to be some kind 
 of an instinctive feeling that the revolted States had 
 forfeited all their rights by rebellion, — even that of 
 having the truth told to them. I confess that decep- 
 tion was very painful to me at first, and from inclina- 
 tion, as well as policy, I used it as sparingly as possi- 
 
40 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ble. But practice made it comparatively easy and 
 pleasant, Avithin the limits indicated above. 
 
 We did not wait for all these reasonings before we 
 began to practise deception upon our host. He was 
 informed that we were Kentuckians, disgusted with 
 the tyranny of the Lincoln government, and seeking 
 an asylum in the free and independent South. His 
 reply was a grateful surprise. " Oh," said he, " you 
 come on a bootless errand, and might as well go home 
 again and make the best of it. The whole South will 
 soon be as much under Lincoln as Kentucky is." 
 
 " Never !" we answered. " We'll fight till we die, 
 first !" 
 
 At this the old man chuckled quietly, but only said, 
 " Well, we'll see, we'll see." We found him to be an 
 enthusiastic Union man, but firmly maintained our own 
 assumed character. He provided us with a good sup- 
 per, late as it was, and with good beds, which we re- 
 fused to occupy until he had promised not to betray us 
 to the Union pickets. 
 
 The next morning we were early on our way, reach- 
 ing Wartrace in the midst of a pelting storm. At- 
 tempting to pass directly through, our soldiers on 
 guard were too vigilant for us, and we enjoyed another 
 opportunity for ft diplomacy," in the endeavor to repre- 
 sent ourselves as innocent citizens from the adjoining 
 country. Bui it was more difficult to deceive our own 
 men than the enemy, and, to avoid detection, we were 
 obliged to reveal our true character, which secured ( ur 
 immediate release. 
 
 We plodded onw r ard through the deep mud and 
 splashing roads, and were now outside our own lines. 
 Our only safety, from this time, lay in our disguise 
 and in our false tongues. We felt not unlike the 
 landsman who for the first time loses sight of the 
 shore, and feels the heaving of the broad ocean under 
 his feet. To the average Northern citizen a vague mys- 
 terv and terror had rested over the whole of the Southern 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 47 
 
 States, even before the beginning of the war. During 
 the existence of slavery no Northern man dared make 
 his home in the presence of that institution and express 
 any views unfavorable to it. Many tales of violence 
 and blood were reported from that region long before 
 hostilities began, and as the passions which led to the 
 contest grew more fierce, the shadows still deepened. 
 When war began the curtain fell, and only reports of 
 wild and desperate enthusiasm in behalf of the cause 
 of disunion and slavery, with stories of the most cruel 
 oppression of the few who dared to differ with the 
 ruling class in still loving the old flag, reached North- 
 ern ears. No doubt there were many exaggerations, 
 but there was a solid basis of fact. The South was 
 swept with a revolutionary frenzy equal to any that 
 history recalls, and the people were ready to sacrifice 
 any one whose life seemed dangerous to their cause. 
 Even exaggeration was potent as truth in aiding to in- 
 vest the region beyond the Union lines with mysterious 
 horror. Into this land of peril and fear and frequent 
 outrage we were plunging as the secret but deadly en- 
 emies of the whole people. Now, when Chattanooga 
 and Atlanta are brought into such easy communication 
 with Northern cities, it is difficult to recall the feelings 
 with which they were regarded in the dark days of 
 eighteen hundred and sixty-two. But hope and cour- 
 age outweighed apprehension in our hearts, and we 
 pushed rapidly forward. 
 
 Others of our party were occasionally seen trudging 
 along in the dreary rain, and sometimes we went with 
 them a little way, but mostly we kept by ourselves. 
 Shortly after noon we crossed Duck River, and en- 
 tered Manchester, stopping just long enough to get the 
 names of some of the prominent secessionists along our 
 proposed route, that we might always have some one 
 to inquire for, and be recommended from one influen- 
 tial man to another. Nightfall this evening (Tuesday) 
 found us still several miles from Hillsborough, and we 
 
48 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 began to fear that we would be behind time in reaching 
 our destination. Each one was weary and stiff, but we 
 resolved to make every effort, and, if necessary, travel 
 a whole night rather than be too late. I have alwavs 
 been sorry that this night journey was not required 
 of us. 
 
 At the place where we lodged that night I first heard 
 a slave-holder talk of hunting negroes with blood- 
 hounds. In conversation after supper our host said to 
 us, as a mere matter of news, " I saw some persons 
 dodging about the back of the plantation just as it was 
 getting dark, and in the morning I will take the hounds 
 and go out and hunt them up. I will be glad to have 
 you go along and see the sport, if you can afford the 
 time. If they prove to be negroes I will make some- 
 thing." 
 
 "What will you do with them?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, turn them over to the authorities and get the 
 reward," was the answer. " I have caught a consider- 
 able number, and it pays to keep on the lookout." 
 
 Of course we had to agree outwardly ; but the idea 
 of hunting human beings with the ferocious-looking 
 dogs we had seen about his door, and that for money, 
 thrilled me with detestation and horror. Soon after- 
 wards we found that blood-hounds were not kept for 
 negroes alone. 
 
 After a sound night's rest we continued our journey, 
 and were fortunate enough to find a man who was will- 
 ing, for the good of the Confederacy, and for an ex- 
 travagant price in money, to give us a short ride. The 
 conveyance was an old wagon, with a wood-rack for a 
 bed, four mules, with a scanty chain harness, ropes for 
 bridles and lines, a driver black as ebony, who rode 
 the lead mule, with a straw bag for a saddle, and flour- 
 ished a fine black-snake whip, — the latter the only really 
 good article in the whole " turnout." Seven or eight 
 of our party were now together, and we rattled merrily 
 over the stony road, holding on to the sides of the old 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 49 
 
 wood-rack, aud agreeing that this was much better than 
 walking. About the middle of the forenoon we came 
 in sight of the Cumberland Mountains. It was now 
 Wednesday, our second day outside of our own lines. 
 
 Never have I beheld more beautiful scenery. For 
 a short time the rain ceased to fall and the air became 
 clear. The mountains shone in the freshest green, and 
 about their tops clung a soft, shadowy mist, gradu- 
 ally descending lower, and shrouding one after another 
 of the spurs and high mountain valleys from view. 
 But the beautiful scene did not long continue. Soon 
 the mist deepened into cloud, and the interminable rain 
 began again to fall. To add to our discontent, our 
 wagon could go no farther, and we once more waded in 
 the mud. 
 
 At noon we found a dinner of the coarsest fare at a 
 miserable one-roomed hut. One of our men, not be- 
 longing, however, to the squad I usually travelled with, 
 managed to get possession of a bottle of apple-brandy, 
 which he used so freely as to become very talkative. 
 He was placed between two others, who kept him from 
 all communication with strangers, and walked him 
 rapidly on until he became sober. This was the only 
 instance of such dangerous imprudence in the whole 
 journey. 
 
 From the personal narrative of J. Alfred Wilson, 
 who was with us by this time, I will make frequent 
 extracts, though by no means always indorsing his 
 opinions as to military affairs, or the hopefulness of our 
 enterprise. He w r as a man of great resolution and en- 
 durance, though by no means of hopeful temper. He 
 says — 
 
 u Not till fairly away from the sight of the old flag and of our 
 regiments, and entirely within the enemy's line, could we begin 
 to realize the great responsibility we had incurred. To begin* 
 with, we had cast aside our uniforms and put on citizen's clothes, 
 and assumed all the penalties that, in military usage, the word 
 spy implies, which is death the world over. Again, our mission 
 was such that concealment was impossible. We were sure to 
 c d 5 
 
50 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 arouse the whole Confederacy and invoke the brutal vengeance 
 of its frenzied leaders in case we did not make good our escape 
 after doing our work. The military spy, in the ordinary line of 
 his duty, is not compelled to expose himself to detection. On 
 the contrary, he conceals, in every possible way, his identity. 
 This we could do until in the heart of the enemy's country, the 
 very place where we would be in the greatest danger." 
 
 Some of the groups fell into the natural error of 
 overdoing their part, and by the very violence with 
 which they denounced the United States government 
 excited suspicion. One party of five or six made a 
 narrow escape from this kind of danger. Their talk 
 was too extravagant and their answers to some ques- 
 tions somewhat contradictory. As none but citizens 
 were then present, no objections were made to their 
 statements; but a company of rebel guerillas was se- 
 cretly summoned, and they were pursued. The guerillas 
 arrived at a house where this party had passed the 
 night but a few moments after they had resumed their 
 journey in the morning. The pursuit was continued ; 
 but growing somewhat weary, and receiving more re- 
 assuring accounts of the travellers ahead, the chase was 
 abandoned, and our comrades escaped. 
 
 Two others of our number were less fortunate. The\ 
 became involved in the same manner, were followed, 
 overtaken, and arrested. They told their Kentucky 
 story in vain, but as they professed their willingness to 
 enlist in the rebel army, that privilege was granted 
 them. They were sent to the nearest post and duly 
 sworn in. Not long afterwards they took the step that 
 had been in their minds at the hour of enlistment by 
 endeavoring to desert. One of them succeeded, but 
 the other was arrested, and had to suffer a long and 
 severe imprisonment. Finally, however, he was sent 
 back to camp, and his next attempt at desertion was 
 more successful. 
 
 In conversation my own group was careful to take a 
 very moderate though decided Southern tone. It was 
 agreed that Wilson and myself should, as far as possible, 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 51 
 
 do all the talking when in the presence of the enemy. On 
 entering towns it was our custom to go directly to the 
 street corners and the groceries, inquire for the latest 
 news, tell our Kentucky story as often as it seemed 
 necessary, deny some of the reports of Union outrages 
 and confirm others, assuring the bystanders that the 
 Yankees were not half so bad as reported, and espe- 
 cially that they would fight, as otherwise they would 
 never have conquered our great State of Kentucky, and 
 then demand, in the name of the common cause of the 
 South, direction and assistance on our way. We thus 
 acquired much information, and were never once sus- 
 pected. It is my deliberate opinion that we could have 
 travelled from Richmond to New Orleans in the samp 
 manner at that period of the war. 
 
 A little way out from our camp Dorsey met a man 
 who seemed to be a Southern spy, and on the strength 
 of this suspicion was strongly tempted to shoot him to 
 prevent the irreparable harm he might do us. A little 
 watching, however, partly dispelled first impressions. 
 The same man afterwards offered Wilson a liberal re- 
 ward to pilot him over the mountains, and actually 
 claimed to be a Confederate spy. Wilson kept with 
 him for a time and watched him narrowly, but became 
 convinced that he had not the least suspicion of our 
 expedition. He allowed him, therefore, to go on his 
 way in peace. It is possible that he was not what he 
 pretended, any more than we ourselves were Kentucky 
 citizens. This man was met once more in Chattanooga, 
 but then disappeared. 
 
 As we were mounting the first spurs of the Cumber- 
 land Mountains we encountered a Confederate soldier 
 from the East, who was then at home on a furlough. 
 He had been in many battles, among them the battle 
 of Bull Run, which he described minutely. Little did 
 he think that I, too, had been there, as we laughed to- 
 gether at the wild panic of the fugitive Yankees. He 
 was greatly delighted to see so many Kentuckians 
 
52 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 coming out on the right side in the great struggle, and 
 contrasted our conduct with that of some mean-spirited 
 persons in his own neighborhood who were so foolish 
 and depraved as to still sympathize with the abolition- 
 ists. 
 
 When we parted he grasped my hand with tears in 
 his eyes, and said he hoped " the time would soon come 
 when we would be comrades, fighting side by side in 
 one glorious cause !" My heart revolted from the hy- 
 pocrisy I was compelled to use, but having begun there 
 was no possibility of turning back. We clambered up 
 the mountain till the top was reached ; then across the 
 level summit for six miles ; then down again by an 
 unfrequented road over steep rocks, yawning chasms, 
 and great gullies cut out by recent rains. This rough 
 jaunt led us down into Battle Creek, which is a pic- 
 turesque valley opening out into the Tennessee, and 
 hemmed in by projecting ranges of lofty mountains. 
 As we descended the slopes, a countryman we had 
 overtaken told me how the valley had obtained its 
 name. The legend is very romantic, and probably 
 truthful. 
 
 There was an Indian war between two neighboring 
 tribes in early times. One of them made a plundering 
 expedition into the territory of the other, and after se- 
 curing their booty retreated homeward. They were 
 promptly pursued, and traced to this valley. The pur- 
 suers believed them to be concealed within its rocky 
 limits, and to make their capture sure divided their 
 force into two bands, each of which crept along the 
 steep opposite sides towards the head of the valley. It 
 was early in the morning, and as they worked their 
 way cautiously along the mountain mist rolled down- 
 ward as we had seen it do that morning, and enveloped 
 each of the parties in its folds. Determined not to be 
 foiled, they kept on, and meeting at the head of the 
 valley, each supposed the other to be the foe. They 
 poured in their fire, and a deadly conflict ensued. Not 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. -j;j 
 
 till the greater number of their braves had fallen did 
 the survivors discover their sad mistake; then they 
 slowly and sorrowfully retreated to their wigwams. 
 The plunderers, who had listened to their conflict in 
 safety, being higher up the mountain, were left to bear 
 off their booty in triumph. 
 
 But we had little leisure for legendary tales. We 
 rested for the night with a wealthy secessionist, whom 
 our soldier friend on the mountains had designated as 
 " the right kind of a man." He received us with open 
 arms, and shared the best his house afforded. We 
 spent the evening in denouncing the policy of the Fed- 
 eral government and in exchanging views as to the 
 prospects of the war. Among other topics I happened 
 to mention an expatriation law which, as I had learned 
 from a newspaper paragraph, had been passed by the 
 Kentucky Legislature a few weeks before. This law 
 only made the reasonable provision that all persons 
 going South to join the rebel army should lose their 
 rights of State citizenship. The old man thought this 
 to be an act of unparalleled oppression ; and in the 
 morning, before we were out of bed, he came into our 
 room and requested some of us to write down that in- 
 famous law that he might be able to give his Union 
 neighbors a convincing proof of Yankee wickedness ! 
 We complied, and all signed our names as witnesses. 
 No doubt that document was long the theme of angry 
 discussion in many a mountain cabin. 
 
 So thoroughly did we maintain our assumed character 
 in this instance, that three days after, when the culmi- 
 nation of our enterprise came to the Confederates like 
 a clap of thunder out of a clear sky, it was impossible 
 to make our host believe that his guests were among 
 the adventurers. This we learned from a Union man 
 to whom he had shown a copy of the terrible expatria- 
 tion law ! 
 
 We were still more than forty miles distant from 
 Chattanooga on this Wednesday evening, and were due 
 
 5* 
 
54 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 at that place by five o'clock the next day. On each of 
 the two preceding days we had measured about thirty 
 miles, — a good rate of speed, but not sufficient. We 
 had formed the resolution of taking a night journey of 
 ten or fifteen miles, but before starting after supper, 
 another squad arrived and managed to tell us that they 
 had seen Andrews and been informed that the grand 
 enterprise was postponed one day. This was a great 
 relief, for it was hard to tear away from our comfort- 
 able quarters; but this delay was a serious mistake. In 
 all combined movements in war, time is of prime im- 
 portance. On the appointed Friday success would have 
 been easy ; on Saturday — but we must not anticipate. 
 
 Andrews had also caused the advice to be passed 
 along the line that it would be better to attempt to cross 
 the Tennessee at some point far west of Chattanooga, 
 and taking passage on the Memphis and Charleston 
 Railroad, endeavor to pass through Chattanooga by 
 rail. He had heard of stringent orders being issued 
 against any one crossing the river near this town with- 
 out a pass. Farther down the stream these orders 
 might not apply, or, in case of necessity, a raft might 
 be constructed among the wooded mountains, and a 
 passage obtained by that means. 
 
 About noon of the next day we came to Jasper, and 
 spent a short time in the principal grocery of the place 
 talking over the state of the country. We informed 
 the idlers that there would soon be a mighty uprising 
 of Kentuckians in favor of the Southern cause, but 
 professed ignorance of the movements of Mitchel's 
 army. In return we received the first vague reports 
 of the battle of Pittsburg Landing. It was the im- 
 pression that the Union army was totally destroyed, 
 thousands of men being slain, and innumerable cannon 
 captured. One countryman assured me that five hun- 
 dred Yankee gunboats had been sunk ! I ventured to 
 suggest a doubt as to the Yankees having so many, but 
 was not able to shake his faith. 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 55 
 
 The same night we reached the banks of the Ten- 
 nessee, directly south of Jasper, and lodged at the 
 house of a Mrs. Hall. A flat-boat owned by one of 
 the neighbors was used as a ferry-boat, and arrange- 
 ments were made for setting us on the other side of the 
 stream early in the morning. The evening spent here 
 >vas very enjoyable. Others of our party came in, and 
 among them Andrews himself. After a good supper, 
 we were all assigned to the best room, which had a 
 roaring wood-fire in an open chimney, and two large 
 beds in the corners. We met without any outward 
 sign of recognition, but rapidly became acquainted. 
 Each acted according to his own nature. The bounti- 
 ful supper and the cheerful fire greatly refreshed us 
 after the labor of the day. My companion, Shadrach, 
 was soon acknowledged as the wit of the party, and 
 received perpetual applause for his mirthful sallies. 
 Andrews was silent, but appeared to greatly enjoy the 
 fun. Dorsey, who had great forethought and prudence, 
 and had decided that it was good policy, even among his 
 comrades, to appear as ignorant as possible, felt highly 
 complimented when told that his group had been de- 
 scribed to some of the others who followed as u a party 
 of country Jakes." Wilson gave us all the information 
 wanted on every possible subject. Songs were sung, 
 stories were told, and as the family formed part of the 
 fireside company, many of the incidents may not have 
 been quite authentic. Late at night this social even- 
 ing's entertainment closed. It w r as the more highly 
 appreciated as it was the first opportunity most of us 
 had enjoyed of becoming acquainted with our leader 
 and with each other. 
 
 In the morning Andrews started up the river on 
 horseback. The flat-boat was bailed out, and we were 
 just entering it, when a mounted man appeared and 
 handed the ferryman an order forbidding him to allow 
 any one to cross the river at his ferry for three days. 
 We tried to get an exception made in our favor, as we 
 
56 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 had contracted with him the evening before, but he 
 was unwilling to assume the risk. The messenger 
 gave us the reason for the order, and a most interesting 
 piece of news it was. General Mitch el -was moving 
 rapidly southward for some unknown object, and it was 
 desirable on that account to stop all intercourse with the 
 country beyond the river. The messenger volunteered 
 the comforting assurance that " these brave Kentuckians 
 will no doubt find a warm welcome at Chattanooga," 
 and gave us the best directions in his power for reach- 
 ing that point. We concealed our disappointment, and 
 as soon as we were alone debated as to the best course 
 to be taken. Two alternatives only were open. One 
 was to build or seize a raft or boat and cross in defiance 
 of the order. This was easy enough in the night, but 
 in daytime it would be very hazardous, and that day, 
 until five o'clock in the afternoon, was the only time at 
 our disposal. We therefore took the only remaining 
 course, and dispersing, hurried over the mountains to- 
 wards Chattanooga. 
 
 Our journey was far from pleasant, as the rocky 
 mountain-spurs here sweep directly down to the bank 
 of this very crooked river. Several times we lost our 
 way in the entanglements of the woods, but at lengt < 
 reached a valley that ran down to the Tennessee directly 
 opposite Chattanooga. The road was now more fre- 
 quented, and we talked freely with travellers, for all 
 fear of being detected by those we chanced to meet 
 had long since been dissipated. 
 
 One countryman related a very interesting item of 
 news from the war in the East. It was to the effect 
 that the Confederate iron-clad " Merrimac" had one 
 day steamed out into the harbor of Fortress Monroe, 
 and after engaging the Union " Monitor" for some 
 hours, with no decisive result, had run alongside of her 
 opponent, and throwing grappling-irons on board, had 
 towed her ashore, where she, of course, fell an easy 
 prey. This may serve as a specimen of the kind of 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 57 
 
 news we perpetually heard while in the Confederate 
 States. 
 
 Quite a number of persons — many of them of our 
 own party — were waiting on the banks of the Tennes- 
 see Rivet*. The assemblage of so many of us on that 
 side of the river was very unfortunate, as it materially 
 increased the risk of discovery; but a very high wind 
 was blowing, and the ferryman feared to risk his little 
 shackly " horse-boat" on the turbulent stream. Our 
 time was nearly exhausted, and we could not afford to 
 wait very long. We urged the boatman very strenu- 
 ously to set us over at once, but he wished to delay 
 until the wind fell. Nothing as yet had been said to 
 us about passes, but this was explained mentally by the 
 conjecture that there was a guard on the other side, 
 whose inspection we would be obliged to pass, — a more 
 formidable ordeal than we had yet encountered. When 
 requests for a speedy passage failed to move the ferry- 
 man, we changed our tactics, and talked in his hearing 
 of the cowardice of Tennessee boatmen as contrasted 
 with Kentuckians, or even the Ohio Yankees. When 
 twelve or sixteen men deliberately attempt to make one 
 man angry, they can generally succeed. The boatman 
 soon tired of our raillery, and, entering his boat, told 
 us to come on and show what we could do by lending 
 him a hand, adding that he would put us over or drown 
 us, he did not care much which. The invitation was 
 promptly accepted, and by pushing with poles and 
 pulling on the limbs of overhanging trees we moved 
 up the stream to a point judged most favorable, mid 
 swung out into the waves. The ride was short and 
 not without danger, but the peril on the other sidf 
 was so much greater that we had little thought to give 
 to the passage. "How should we meet and deceive 
 the guard ?" This was the important question. Our 
 surprise was almost equal to our delight when we 
 landed and found no one to bar our progress. The ex- 
 planation was perfectly simple. The guard had not 
 
58 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE 
 
 been placed that afternoon because it was not believed 
 that any one would attempt to cross in the storm. 
 Wondering at our good fortune, we hurried to the cars, 
 and were in time to procure tickets for Marietta before 
 the departure of the train, which was crowded with 
 passengers, many of them Confederate soldiers. In 
 such a crowd it was easy to avoid notice. 
 
 Every seat in the cars was filled, and we had to be 
 contented with standing room. The fames of whiskey 
 and tobacco were very strong. Talking was loud and 
 incessant, and turned mostly upon the great battle of 
 Shiloh, the accounts of which were by no means so ex- 
 travagant as at first, though a great victory was still 
 claimed. We took part in the conversation freely, 
 judging this to be the best way of maintaining our as- 
 sumed disguise. No general system of passports had 
 been brought into use, at least in this part of the South, 
 and railway travel was entirely unrestricted. 
 
 The sun was about an hour high when we glided out 
 of the depot, and it soon sank to rest behind the hills 
 of Georgia. The time for our perilous attempt drew 
 near. There was some diversity of opinion among the 
 members of the party, as revealed by conversations 
 both before and after, as to the prospects of success. 
 The most of us felt some solicitude, but were far more 
 hopeful than when we left camp.^ So many incidents 
 had occurred substantially as they had been planned, 
 that trust in the foresight of our leader, with the assur- 
 ance that all would come out right, was greatly strength- 
 ened. The first feeling of strangeness which followed 
 our plunge into the enemy's country had given way to 
 confidence in the impenetrability of our mental disguise. 
 For my own part I scarcely felt a doubt of success. It 
 seemed to me that a dozen modes of escape were open 
 in the improbable event of failure. I saw the dangers 
 surrounding us clearly, but none of them now appeared 
 more formidable than when I first asked Colonel Harris 
 the privilege of joining the expedition. There were 
 
^Chattanooga amd 
 IrAILROAD GOfoMECTiONS 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 5^ 
 
 many bridges on the road we passed over, and we could 
 not help picturing our return on the morrow and the 
 vengeance we proposed wreaking on them. Darkness 
 closed in, and on we went amid the oaths and laughter 
 of the rebels, many of whom were very much intoxi- 
 cated. I procured a seat on the coal-box and gave my- 
 self up to the thoughts suggested by the hour. There 
 was now no need of trying to keep up conversation with 
 those around. Visions of former days and friends- 
 dear friends, both around the camp-tires and the hearths 
 of home, whom I might never see again — floated before 
 me. I also heard much talk of the merits of different 
 States and regiments in the contest, and many discus- 
 sions of the conscript law, which was just now coming 
 into force. The opinion of the greater number of the 
 soldiers seemed to be that while the provisions of the 
 law w r ere right in compelling all to take a part in the 
 burdens of the conflict, yet that it would be of but little 
 service, as the unwilling soldiers, who were thus forced 
 into the ranks, would be no match for volunteers. 
 Little did they imagine that in this terrible law their 
 rulers had found a w T eapon which would enable them 
 to repulse the Northern armies at every point, and pro- 
 tract the war for three years longer ! 
 
 At this time the Union cause seemed most hopeful. 
 All appearances indicated a speedy termination of the 
 war and a complete re-establishment of the old govern- 
 ment. Few great battles had taken place, but the pre- 
 ponderance of fortune as well as force seemed everywhere 
 on the loyal side. In the West, our armies had during 
 the last three months penetrated almost half-way to the 
 Gulf; McClellan was preparing to move with over- 
 whelming force towards Richmond; Burnside w r as deal- 
 ing hard blows on the North Carolina coast ; the force 
 which captured New Orleans was already on the way ; 
 and at no point were the rebel forces a fair match for 
 their opponents. Volunteering had almost stopped in the 
 South, w T hile recruits were pouring as a steady stream 
 
GO CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 into the Northern armies, and continued to do so for a 
 year longer. A rebellion almost isolated and placed 
 everywhere on the defensive could not hope for long 
 life unless new resources were discovered. The rebel 
 leaders well knew this, and therefore passed the con- 
 scription law. 
 
 It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that there were 
 two wars waged between the North and the South. The 
 first was between the two people by means of volun- 
 teers, and the second between the two governments. 
 For the first year the soldiers fought on both sides with 
 scarcely a thought of pay or bounty, and without a hint 
 of compulsion. But the South had reached the end of 
 this period, and her volunteers were beaten and ex- 
 hausted. This was not from any want of bravery on 
 their part, but because of inferior numbers, and be- 
 cause, having less at stake than the volunteers of the 
 North, they could less willingly support adverse for- 
 tune. Now the new law was enacted at the South 
 which put all the able-bodied population at the service 
 of the State. The advantages were immediate and 
 obvious. All the volunteers who had enlisted for a 
 limited time were retained. The depleted organiza- 
 tions Avere filled up to their full strength, instead of 
 waiting for the recruiting of new regiments, and the 
 conscripts thus became, in a few days, the equals of 
 old soldiers. The second year of the war, in which the 
 Northern volunteers fought the whole force the Southern 
 States could bring into the field, was, on the whole, the 
 most unfavorable of any period to the loyal arms. It 
 became clear that the supremacy of the Union could 
 not be restored unless the same potent weapon could be 
 employed on her behalf. From the hour that the possi- 
 bility of this was demonstrated, and a draft success- 
 fully enforced by the Union government, the issue was 
 virtually decided. Despair might protract the contest, 
 but the utter exhaustion of Southern resources was only 
 a question of time. Was it necessary to permit the war 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. (51 
 
 to pass from the first into the second stage? Might 
 not the victory of the Union volunteers have been 
 pushed so rapidly as to have prevented the South from 
 enforcing the conscription law over any considerable 
 portion of her territory, and thus have ended the con- 
 test at once? These were questions of tremendous im- 
 portance, which could only be answered in the month? 
 of April and May, 1862. Then was a golden oppor- 
 tunity which once lost could only be regained by years 
 of desperate fighting. A half-dozen great victories in 
 midsummer would be of less real value than a vigor- 
 ous advance in the spring, which should at once dis 
 courage the enemy, while at the lowest point of his 
 fortunes, and prevent the recruiting of his armies by 
 conscription. It has often been said that the North did 
 not win any decisive advantage until the abolition of 
 slavery. This is true, but it does not in the least con- 
 tradict the view just advanced. That great measure 
 committed the North absolutely to the conquest of the 
 South, and thus led to exertions adequate to the end 
 sought. Yet we must conclude, reasoning from a mili- 
 tary point of view only, that if the same exertions had 
 been put forth earlier, they would have been even more 
 speedily effective. 
 
 These considerations, which were but dimly, if at 
 all, realized as we glided along in the darkness through 
 the heart of the rebel country, will render more intelli 
 gible the vast importance attributed by competent mili- 
 tary authorities to the expedition in which we were 
 engaged. If we burned the bridges on the morrow, 
 General Mitchel would certainly capture Chattanooga 
 within three or four days, and spread his power over 
 East Tennessee and all the adjoining loyal districts. 
 The people of this section, now thoroughly alarmed and 
 enraged by the conscription, would enlist under his 
 banner by tens of thousands. Seven regiments had 
 already been formed by East Tennesseeans, who, under 
 circumstances of the greatest difficulty, had run away 
 
#2 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 into Kentucky. The communications of the Eastern 
 and the Western rebel armies would be cut ; and to de- 
 stroy those armies in detail would only require the 
 vigorous advance of the forces already opposed to 
 them. This was a brilliant prospect to set before an 
 expedition composed of only twenty-four men ; but 
 there is in it nothing beyond the realm of probability, 
 and as I thought of the mere possibility of such 
 achievements I felt that we might afford to despise all 
 personal danger. To deliver a territory occupied by 
 nearly a million citizens from conscription ; to place an 
 army in the most important strategical position in the 
 rebel territory, for such Chattanooga was ; to give the 
 command of the great continental system of railways 
 into the hands of our own troops, and to paralyze the 
 plans of the enemy ; these were, indeed, almost incred- 
 ible results to flow from such a cause; but we believed 
 then that such would be the meaning of our success. 
 The reader who will study attentively the military 
 situation as it was in 1862, with the railroads then 
 existing, and add the fact that the Southern armies 
 were then depleted to the lowest point reached during 
 the struggle, will not be disposed to smile at such possi- 
 bilities. It is certain that in the first hour of panic, 
 caused by our attempt, the Confederates themselves ac- 
 knowledged, not in words only, but in the most signifi- 
 cant actions, the deadly peril to which they had been 
 exposed. 
 
 With such thoughts the hours passed not unpleas- 
 antly. I noticed that we were making very slow time, 
 and afterwards learned that this was general on South- 
 ern roads. The absorption in warlike affairs and the 
 scarcity of iron and all other material, as well as of 
 money, had caused the managers of the railroads to let 
 them fall into bad repair, and this necessitated a low 
 rate of speed. The fastest train on this road did not 
 get beyond eighteen miles an hour. This was a de- 
 cidedly unfavorable element in the problem we were to 
 
COMPANIONS AND INCIDENTS. 63 
 
 solve. Some of the adventurers were even less favor- 
 ably impressed with our prospects than I was. The 
 immense business of the road, Avhich had become one 
 of the most important in the whole South, rendered the 
 running of a train when we captured it much more 
 difficult. We saw many freight trains lying at the 
 stations, and everything indicated that the capacity of 
 this line of rail was being pressed to the utmost. Ser- 
 geant Ross and Alfred Wilson took the most gloomy 
 view of our prospects of success, and even sought an 
 opportunity, soon after, to dissuade Andrews from 
 going any further in it. The latter thus explains his 
 own feelings, — 
 
 " After getting seated, and there being no further cause of con- 
 cern for the time being, I began to carefully study over the situ- 
 ation with all the thought I could, and to calculate our chances 
 of success or failure. The result of my deliberations was by no 
 means encouraging. We were one day behind the time ap- 
 pointed. I knew, too, or felt sure, that General Mitchel would 
 not fail to march upon and take Huntsville, according to the ar- 
 rangement made when we started. I also felt that if he did so 
 there would be little room to hope for our success. It would 
 cause the roads to be crowded with trains flying from danger, 
 and it would be difficult to pass them all in safety. But it was 
 too late now to change the programme. We must make the 
 effort, come what might. I said nothing, however, to any one 
 but Andrews ; but on listening to my opinion on the situation, 
 he encouraged me by saying there was yet a good chance to suc- 
 ceed. Indeed, he expressed himself in so sanguine a manner that 
 I made no further argument; but I still thought my course of 
 reasoning correct, whether the event should accord with it or not." 
 
 From the soldiers and others in the train we received 
 a rumor which was full of startling interest to us, — 
 nothing less than the reported capture of Huntsville 
 by General Mitchel. Much incredulity was expressed, 
 and details were wanting. His force was reported at 
 twenty-five or thirty thousand men, — an extravagant 
 but not unnatural over-estimate. We had no doubt of 
 the truth of the report, though it would have better 
 suited us if he also had been detained for one day, or 
 even more. 
 
(54 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 It was near nine o'clock when the train reached the 
 supper station. After all our fatigue we were well 
 prepared to do justice- to the bountiful meal that was 
 spread. But there was such a rush for the table that 
 several of our party were unable to get near it, and had 
 therefore to continue their fast. The writer was more 
 fortunate. Buffum, who was crowded back on account 
 of his small size, managed to stoop down and slip up 
 under the arm of a rebel officer just as the latter was 
 rising from the table, and thus took his place while a 
 half-dozen hungry travellers rushed for it. There 
 was some laughing, and Buffum was applauded for his 
 " Yankee- trick," more than he would have been had 
 it been known that he was actually a native of Massa- 
 chusetts, and then engaged in the Federal service. 
 
 The train rushed on after we left the supper station, 
 and as I had managed to get a good meal and also a 
 comfortable seat in the changing, all reflections and 
 dangers were soon forgotten in a sound sleep, from 
 which I only awakened when the conductor shouted 
 " Marietta !" It was then almost midnight, and the 
 goal was reached. This was, for the present, the utmost 
 boundary of our journey. We were now in the centre 
 of the Confederacy, and before we departed had a blow 
 to strike that would either make all rebeldom vibrate 
 from centre to circumference or leave us at the mercy 
 of the merciless. But the first thing to be done was 
 to snatch a short repose preparatory to the hard work 
 of the morrow. 
 
A LOCOMOTIVE AND TRAIN CAPTURED. (35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A LOCOMOTIVE AND TRAIN CAPTURED. 
 
 The greater number of us arranged to pass the night 
 at a small hotel adjoining the Marietta depot. Before 
 retiring we left orders with the hotel clerk to rouse us 
 in time for the northward bound train, due not long 
 after daylight. Notwithstanding our novel situation, I 
 never slept more soundly. Good health, extreme fa- 
 tigue, and the feeling that the die was now cast and 
 further thought useless, made me sink into slumber 
 almost as soon as I touched the bed. Others equally 
 brave and determined were affected in a different way. 
 Alfred Wilson says, — 
 
 "No man knows what a day may bring forth, and the very 
 uncertainty of what that day's sun would bring forth in our par- 
 ticular cases was the reason that some of us, myself at least of the 
 number, did not sleep very much. Our doom might be fixed 
 before the setting of another sun. We might be hanging to the 
 limbs of some of the trees along the railroad, with an enraged 
 populace jeering*and shouting vengeance because we had no more 
 lives to give up ; or we might leave a trail of fire and destruction 
 behind us, and come triumphantly rolling into Chattanooga and 
 Huntsville, within the Federal lines, to receive the welcome 
 plaudits of comrades left behind, and the thanks of our general, 
 and the praises of a grateful people. Such thoughts as these 
 passed in swift review, and were not calculated to make one sleep 
 soundly." 
 
 As the hotel was much crowded, we obtained a few 
 rooms in close proximity, and crowded them to their 
 utmost capacity. Andrews noted our rooms before re- 
 tiring, that he might, if necessary, seek any one of us 
 out for consultation before we rose. Porter and Haw- 
 kins were unfortunately overlooked ; they had arrived 
 on an earlier train and obtained lodging at some distance 
 e 6* 
 
6 (J CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 from the depot. The clerk failed to have them called 
 in time for the morning train, as they had ordered, and, 
 greatly to their regret and chagrin, they were left be- 
 hind. This was a serious loss, as they were both cool, 
 brave men, and Hawkins was the most experienced 
 railway engineer of our company. W. F. Brown, who 
 took his place in this work, was, however, fully com- 
 petent, though possibly somewhat less cautious. 
 
 Long before the train was due, Andrews, who had 
 slept little, if at all, that night, glided from room to 
 room silently as a ghost, the doors being purposely 
 left unfastened, and aroused the slumberers. It seemed 
 to some of us scarcely a moment from the time of re- 
 tiring until he came thus to the bedside of each sleeper 
 in turn, and cautiously wakening him, asked his name, 
 to prevent the possibility of mistake, and then told each 
 one exactly the part he was expected to take in the en- 
 terprise of the day. There was hasty dressing, and 
 afterwards an informal meeting held in Andrews' 
 room, at which nearly one-half of the whole number 
 were present, and plans were more fully discussed. 
 Then Marion A. Ross, one of the most determined of 
 the whole number, took the bold step of advising and 
 even urging the abandonment, for the present, of the 
 whole enterprise. He reasoned with great force that 
 under present circumstances, with the rebel vigilance 
 fully aroused by MitchePs rapid advance, with guards 
 stationed around the train we were to capture, as we 
 had learned would be the case at Big Shanty, and with 
 the road itself obstructed by numerous trains, the en- 
 terprise was sure to fail, and would cost the life of every 
 man engaged in it. Andrews very gently answered 
 his arguments and strove to show that the objections 
 urged really weighed in favor of the original plan. 
 No such attempt as we purposed had ever been made, 
 and consequently would not be guarded against ; the 
 presence of a line of sentinels and of so many troops 
 at Big Shanty would only tend to relax vigilance still 
 
A LOCOMOTIVE AND TRAIN CAPTURED. 67 
 
 further ; and the great amount of business done on the 
 road, with the running of many unscheduled trains, 
 would screen us from too close inquiry when we ran 
 our train ahead of time. This reasoning was not alto- 
 gether satisfactory, and some of the others joined Ross 
 in a respectful but firm protest against persisting in such 
 a hopeless undertaking. But Andrews, speaking very 
 low, as was his wont when thoroughly in earnest, de- 
 clared that he had once before postponed the attempt, 
 and returned to camp disgraced. "Now," he con- 
 tinued, " I will accomplish my purpose or leave my 
 bones to bleach in Dixie. But I do not wish to con- 
 trol any one against his own judgment. If any of you 
 think it too hazardous, you are perfectly at liberty to 
 take the train in the opposite direction and work your 
 way back to camp as you can." 
 
 This inflexible determination closed the discussion, 
 and as no man was willing to desert his leader, we all 
 assured him of our willingness to obey his orders to 
 the death. I had taken no part in the discussion, as 
 I was not in possession of sufficient facts to judge of 
 the chance of success, and I wished the responsibility 
 to rest upon the leader, where it properly belonged. 
 
 The train was now nearly due, and we proceeded to 
 the station for the purchase of tickets. By the time 
 they had been procured — not all for one place, as we 
 wished to lessen the risk of suspicion — the train swept 
 up to the platform. Hastily glancing at it in the early 
 morning light, and seeing only that it was very long 
 and apparently well filled, the twenty adventurers en- 
 tered by different doors, but finally took their places in 
 one car. 
 
 From Marietta to Big Shanty the railroad sweeps in 
 a long bend of eight miles around the foot of Kenesaw 
 Mountain, which lies directly between the two stations. 
 This elevation is now scarred all over with rebel in- 
 trenchments, and was the scene of one of the severest 
 contests of the war. This, however, as well as the 
 
68 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 whole of the three months' struggle from Chattanooga: 
 to Atlanta, came a year and a half later. At this time 
 the nearest Federal soldiers were more than two hun- 
 dred miles away. 
 
 When the train moved on and the conductor came to 
 take our tickets we observed him carefully, as we knew 
 not how closely his fate and ours might be linked to- 
 gether in the approaching struggle. The most vivid an- 
 ticipation fell far short of the reality. Upon the quali- 
 fies of that one man our success or failure hinged. He 
 was quite young — not more than tweuty-three or four, 
 — and looked like a man of resolution and energy. We 
 noticed that he was also scrutinizing us and the other 
 passengers very closely, and naturally feared that he 
 had in some manner been put on his guard. In fact, 
 as we learned long afterwards, he had been warned that 
 some of the new conscripts who were reluctant to fight 
 for the Confederacy were contemplating an escape, and 
 might try to get a ride on the cars. His orders were 
 to watch for all such and arrest them at once. But he 
 did not think that any of the men who got on at Mari- 
 etta looked in the least like conscripts or deserters. 
 
 The train ran slowly, stopping at several intervening 
 points, and did not reach Big Shanty until it was fully 
 daylight. This station had been selected for the seiz- 
 ure, because the train breakfasted there, and it was 
 probable that many of the employes and passengers 
 would leave it for their meal, thus diminishing the op- 
 position we might expect. Another most important 
 reason for the selection was the absence of any tele- 
 graph office. But, on the other hand, Camp McDonald 
 had been lately located here, and a large body of sol- 
 diers — some accounts said as many as ten thousand 
 men — were already assembled. Their camp included 
 the station within the guard-line. When Andrews and 
 the first party had been at Atlanta, three weeks earlier, 
 few troops had yet arrived at this point. The capture 
 of a train in the midst of a camp of the enemy was- 
 
A LOCOMOTIVE AND TRAIN CAPTURED. 69 
 
 not a part of the original plan, but subsequently be- 
 came necessary. It was certainly a great additional 
 element of danger, but it was not now possible to sub- 
 stitute any other point. 
 
 The decisive hour had arrived. It is scarcely boast- 
 ful to say that the annals of history record few enter- 
 prises more bold and novel than that witnessed by the 
 rising sun of Saturday morning, April 12, 1862. Here 
 was a train, with several hundred passengers, with a full 
 complement of hands, lying inside a line of sentinels, 
 who were distinctly seen pacing back and forth in close 
 proximity, to be seized by a mere score of men, and to 
 be carried away before the track could be obstructed, or 
 the intruding engineer shot down at his post. Only the 
 most careful calculation and prompt execution, concen- 
 trating the power of the whole band into a single light- 
 ning-like stroke, could afford the slightest prospect of 
 success. In the bedroom conference every action was 
 predetermined with the nicest accuracy. Our engineer 
 and his assistant knew the signal at which to start; the 
 brakesmen had their work assigned ; the man who was 
 to uncouple the cars knew just the' place at which to 
 make the separation; the remainder of the number 
 constituted a guard, in two divisions, who were to stand 
 with ready revolvers abreast of the cars to be seized, 
 and shoot down without hesitation any one who at- 
 tempted to interfere with the work. Andrews was to 
 command the whole, and do any part of the work not 
 otherwise provided for. Should there be any unexpected 
 hindrance, we were to fight until we either overcame 
 all opposition and captured the train or perished in a 
 body. If we failed to carry off our prize we were in- 
 evitably lost ; if any man failed to be on board when 
 the signal was given, his fate also was sealed. A delay 
 of thirty seconds after our designs became clearly known 
 would have resulted in the slaughter of the whole 
 party. 
 
 When our train rolled up to the platform the usual 
 
70 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 announcement was shouted, " Big Shanty ; twenty 
 minutes for breakfast !" Most fortunately for us, the 
 conductor, engineer, firemen, and train-hands generally, 
 with many of the passengers, poured out, and hurried to 
 the long, low eating-room which gave its name to the 
 station. The engine was utterly unguarded. This un- 
 common carelessness was the result of perfect security, 
 and greatly favored our design. Yet it was a thrilling 
 moment ! Victory or death hung on the next minute ! 
 There was no chance for drawing back, and I do not 
 think any of us had the disposition. A little while 
 before, a sense of shrinking came over the writer like 
 that preceding a plunge into ice- water ; but with the 
 next breath it passed away, and left me as calm and 
 quiet as if no enemy had been within a hundred miles. 
 Still, for a moment, we kept our seats. Andrews went 
 forward to examine the track and see if there was any 
 hindrance to a rapid rush ahead. Almost immediately 
 he returned, and said, very quietly, " All right, boys ; 
 let us go now." There was nothing in this to attract 
 special observation ; but whether it did or not was now 
 a matter of indifference. The time of concealment was 
 past. We rose, left the cars, and walked briskly to the 
 head of the train. With the precision of machinery, 
 every man took his appointed place. Three cars back 
 from the tender the coupling-pin was drawn out, as the 
 load of passenger-cars would only have been an in- 
 cumbrance. Wilson W. Brown, who acted as engineer,. 
 William Knight as assistant, Alfred W ilson as fire- 
 man, together with Andrews, mounted the engine, 
 Knight grasping the lever, and waiting the word for 
 starting. The appointed brakesmen threw themselves 
 flat on the top of the cars. At a signal from Andrews, 
 the remainder of the band, who had kept watch, climbed 
 with surprising quickness into a box-car which stood 
 open. All was well ! Knight, at Andrews' orders, 
 jerked open the steam-valve, and we were off! Before 
 the camp -guards or the bystanders could do more than 
 
.4 LOCOMOTIVE AND TRAIN CAPTURED. 7 J 
 
 turn a curious eye upon our proceedings, the train was 
 under way, and we were safe from interruption. 
 
 The writer was stationed in the box-car, and as soon 
 as all were in, we pulled the door shut to guard against 
 any stray musket-balls. For a moment of most in- 
 tense suspense after we were thus shut in all was still. 
 In that moment a thousand conflicting thoughts swept 
 through our minds. Then came a pull, ajar, a clang, 
 and we were flying away on our perilous journey. 
 Those who were on the engine caught a glimpse of 
 the excited crowd, soldiers and citizens, swarming and 
 running about in the wildest confusion. It has been 
 said that a number of shots were fired after us, but 
 those in the box-car knew nothing of it, and it is cer- 
 tain that no one was injured. A widely-circulated 
 picture represented us as waving our hats and shouting 
 in triumph. Nothing so melodramatic took place. The 
 moment was too deep and earnest, and we had too 
 many perils still to encounter for any such childish 
 demonstration. 
 
 Yet it was a grand triumph, and having nothing 
 of a more practical character for the moment to do, I 
 realized it to the fullest extent. There are times in 
 life when whole years of enjoyment are condensed into 
 a single experience. It was so with me then. I could 
 comprehend the emotion of Columbus when he first 
 beheld through the dim dawn the long-dreamed-of 
 shores of America, or the less innocent but no less 
 fervent joy of Cortez when he planted the Cross of 
 Spain on the halls of Montezuma. My breast throbbed 
 fast with emotions of joy and gladness that words 
 labor in vain to express. A sense of ethereal lightness 
 ran through my veins, and I seemed ascending higher, 
 higher, with each pulsation of the engine. Remember, 
 I was but twenty-two then, full of hope and ambition. 
 Not a dream of failure shadowed my rapture. We 
 had always been told that the greatest difficulty was to 
 reach and take possession of the engine, after which 
 
72 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 success was certain. But for unforeseen contingencies 
 it would have been. 
 
 Away we rush, scouring past 'field and village and 
 woodland. At each leap of the engine our hearts rose 
 higher, and we talked merrily of the welcome that 
 would greet us when we dashed into Huntsville a few 
 hours later, our enterprise done, and the brightest laurels 
 jf the war eclipsed ! 
 
 We found the railroad, however, to be of the roughest 
 and most difficult character. The grades were very 
 heavy and the curves numerous and sharp. We 
 seemed to be running towards every point of the com- 
 pass. The deep valleys and steep hills of this part of 
 the country had rendered the building of the road dif- 
 ficult and costly. There were numerous high embank- 
 ments where an accident would be of deadly character. 
 The track was also uneven and in generally bad con- 
 dition, for the war had rendered railroad iron scarce 
 and high-priced, besides diverting all attention and re- 
 sources into other channels. This unfavorable char- 
 acter of the road very greatly increased the difficulty 
 experienced by an engineer unfamiliar with the route 
 in making rapid time, or in avoiding the varied diffi- 
 culties incident to our progress. But Ave trusted im- 
 plicitly that the far-sighted plans of Andrews, the skill 
 of our engineers, and our own willing efforts would 
 overcome all hindrances. 
 
 Our first run was short. There was a sudden check- 
 ing of speed and a halt. When those of us who were in 
 the box-car pushed open our door and asked the reason 
 for stopping so soon, we were told that the fire was low 
 and the steam exhausted. This was startling intelli- 
 gence, and caused a moment of consternation. If our 
 " General" — the name of the locomotive we had cap- 
 tured — failed us at the beginning of the race, we too 
 well knew what the end would be. For hundreds of 
 miles on every side of us were desperate and daring 
 foes. A hundred times our number of horse and foot 
 
A LOCOMOTIVE AND TRAIN CAPTURED. 73 
 
 could be gathered against us in a few hours. The most 
 timid bird pursued by hounds feels safe, for its wings 
 can bear it above their jaws. But if those wings should 
 be broken ! This engine gave us wings ; but if it 
 should be disabled no valor of ours could beat back 
 the hosts about us, no skill elude their rage. But we 
 found a less threatening explanation of our premature 
 halt. The schedule time of our train was very slow, — 
 only about sixteen miles an hour, — and the fires had been 
 allowed to run down because of the expected stop of 
 twenty minutes for breakfast at Big Shanty, — a stop 
 that we had reduced to less than two minutes. Then 
 the valve being thrown wide open, the little steam in 
 the boiler was soon exhausted. But this difficulty was 
 of short duration. A rest of three minutes, with plenty 
 of wood thrown into the furnace, wrought a change, 
 and we again glided rapidly forward. 
 
 But when viewed soberlv, and in the light of all the 
 facts since developed, what were the chances of success 
 and escape possessed by the flying party? Was the 
 whole attempt, as has been frequently asserted, rash and 
 foolhardy? Or had it that character of practicability 
 which is ever the stamp of true genius ? Historical 
 accuracy, as well as justice to the memory of a brave 
 but unfortunate man, compels me to pronounce the 
 scheme almost faultless. In this estimate I have the 
 full concurrence of all who were engaged on the oppo- 
 site side. It is hard to see how the plan could have 
 been improved without allowing its projector to have 
 had a knowledge of the precise condition of the enemy 
 such as no commander at the beginning of an important 
 enterprise ever has. No one of the plans by which 
 Generals Grant and Sherman finally overthrew the 
 Rebellion presented a clearer prospect of success. 
 
 These are the elements of the problem upon which 
 Andrews based his hopes. Big Shanty is twenty-eight 
 miles north of Atlanta and thirty-two south of Kings- 
 ton. Short of these places he was convinced that no 
 
 D 7 
 
74 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 engine could be obtained for pursuit. He could ob- 
 struct the road so that no train would reach Big Shanty 
 for hours. Pinch-bars and other instruments for lift- 
 ing track might be found on the captured engine, or 
 obtained from some station or working-party. His 
 force of twenty men was counted ample to overcome 
 resistance at any switch or passing train. One irregular 
 train only was expected to be on the road, and that 
 would soon be met, — certainly at Kingston or before, — 
 after which it would be safe to run at the highest speed 
 to the first bridge, burn it, and pass on to the next, 
 which, with all other large bridges, could be served in 
 the same manner. Each bridge burnt would be an in- 
 superable barrier to pursuit by an engine beyond that 
 point. Thus every part of the scheme was fair and 
 promising. Only those critics who are wise after the 
 event can pronounce the attempt rash and hopeless. 
 The destruction of the telegraph would also be neces- 
 sary ; but this was not difficult. It seemed as if every 
 contingency was provided for, and then there was the 
 additional fighting power of twenty chosen men to 
 guard against any possible emergency. We were now 
 embarked on this most perilous but hopeful voyage. 
 Coolness, precision of work, and calm effort could 
 scarcely fail to sever the chief military communications 
 of the enemy before the setting of the sun, and con- 
 vince him that no enterprise was too audacious for the 
 Union arms. 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 75 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 
 
 After the fire had been made to burn briskly An- 
 drews jumped off the engine, ran back to the box-car, 
 about the door of which we were standing, and clasped 
 our hands in an ecstasy of congratulation. He declared 
 that all our really hard work was done and that our 
 difficulties were nearly passed ; that we had the enemy 
 at such a disadvantage that he could not harm us ; and 
 exhibited every sign of joy. Said he, " Only one train 
 to meet, and then we will put our engine to full speed, 
 burn the bridges that I have marked out, dash through 
 Chattanooga, and on to Mitchel at Huntsville. We've 
 got the upper hand of the rebels now, and they can't 
 help themselves !" How glad we all were ! When, 
 three years later, the capture of Richmond set all the 
 bells of the North ringing out peals of triumph, the 
 sensation of joy was more diffused but less intense than 
 we then experienced. Almost everything mankind 
 values seemed within our grasp. Oh, if we had met 
 but one unscheduled train ! 
 
 This reference of Andrews to one train which he 
 expected to meet before we began to burn bridges has 
 been quoted in many public sketches, and has led to 
 some misapprehension. He did expect to meet three 
 trains before reaching Chattanooga ; but two of these 
 were regular trains, and being also farther up the road, 
 were not supposed to present any serious difficulty. 
 Their position at any given time could be definitely as- 
 certained, and we could avoid collision with them, no 
 matter how far we ran ahead of time. But so long as 
 there were any irregular trains on the road before us ? 
 
76 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 our only safety was in keeping the regular time of the 
 captured train. This was, unfortunately, very slow ; 
 but if we exceeded it we lost the right of way, and were 
 liable to a collision at any moment. This risk was 
 greatly increased by our inability to send ahead tele- 
 graphic notifications of our position. The order of 
 southward-bound trains, according to the information 
 we then had, was as follows : First, a way-freight, which 
 was very uncertain as to time, but which we expected 
 to meet early in the morning, and felt sure that it would 
 be at Kingston or south of that point. This was the 
 only real hindrance according to our programme, and it 
 was to this train that Andrews referred. Behind this 
 were the regular freight train, and still farther north 
 the regular passenger train. As a matter of fact, we 
 did meet these trains at Adairsville and Calhoun, the 
 latter being somewhat behind time ; but we might have 
 met them farther north had it not been for unforeseen 
 hindrances. 
 
 There is considerable discrepancy in the many pub- 
 lished accounts of the following chase, which the writer 
 has not in every case been able to perfectly reconcile. 
 In the intense excitement and novel situations involved 
 men were not likely to observe or remember every event 
 accurately. But no pains have been spared to combine 
 fulness and completeness in the following account. 
 Using the best of my own recollections, consulting my 
 comrades, reading carefully all published accounts, and 
 especially going over the whole route years after, with 
 Fuller and Murphy, two of the pursuing party, who 
 kindly gave me all the information in their power, it 
 is hoped that substantial accuracy has been obtained. 
 Some of the incidents of the chase, such as the number 
 of times the track was torn up, and whether we were 
 fired upon by pursuing soldiers, allow some room for 
 a conflict of memory. But the variations are not 
 material. 
 
 Side by side with the road ran the telegraph- wires > 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 77 
 
 which were able, bv the flashing of a single lightning 
 message ahead, to arrest our progress and dissipate our 
 fondest hopes. There was no telegraph station where 
 we had captured the train, but we knew not how soon 
 cur enemies might reach one, or whether they might 
 not have a portable battery at command. Therefore we 
 ran but a short distance, after replenishing the furnace, 
 before again stopping to cut the wire. 
 
 John Scott, an active young man of the Twenty-first 
 Ohio, scrambled up the pole with the agility of a cat, 
 and tried to break the wire by swinging upon it ; but 
 failing in this, he knocked off the insulating box at the 
 top of the pole and swung with it down to the ground. 
 Fortunately, a small saw was found on the engine, with 
 which the wire was severed in two places, and the in- 
 cluded portion, many yards in length, was taken away 
 with us, in order that the ends might not be readily 
 joined. 
 
 While one or two of the party were thus engaged 
 others worked with equal diligence in taking up a rail 
 from the track. No good track-raising instruments 
 had been found on the train, and we had not yet pro- 
 cured them from any other source. A smooth iron 
 bar, about four feet long, was the only instrument yet 
 found, and with this some of the spikes were slowly 
 and painfully battered out. After a few had thus been 
 extracted, a lever was got under the rail and the re- 
 mainder were pried loose. This occupied much more 
 time than cutting the wire, and it required no prophet 
 to foretell that if we did not procure better tools rail- 
 lifting would have to be used very sparingly in our 
 programme. In the present instance, however, the loss 
 of time was no misfortune, as we were ahead of the 
 schedule time, which we still felt bound to observe. 
 
 After another rapid but brief run, we paused long 
 enough to chop down a telegraph-pole, cut the wire 
 again, and place the pole, with many other obstructions, 
 on the track. We did not here try to lift a rail ; in- 
 
78 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 deed, we had little serious fear of any pursuit at this 
 time, and merely threw on these obstructions because 
 of having spare time to employ. 
 
 We thus continued — running a little ahead of time, 
 then stopping to obstruct the track and cut the wire — 
 until Cass Station was reached, where we took on a 
 good supply of wood and water. At this place we also 
 obtained a complete time schedule of the road. An- 
 drews told the tank-tender that we were running a 
 powder-train through to the army of General Beaure- 
 gard at Corinth, which was almost out of ammunition, 
 and that the greatest haste was necessary. He further 
 claimed to be a Confederate officer of high rank, and 
 said that he had impressed this train for the purpose in 
 hand, and that Fuller, with the regular passenger train, 
 would be along shortly. The whole story was none 
 too plausible, as General Mitchel was now interposed 
 between our present position and Beauregard, and we 
 would never have been able to get a train to the army 
 of the latter on this route; but the tender was not 
 critical and gave us his schedule, adding that he would 
 willingly send his shirt to Beauregard if that general 
 needed it. When this man was afterwards asked if he 
 did not suspect the character of the enemy he thus 
 aided, he answered that he would as soon have sus- 
 pected the President of the Confederacy himself as 
 one who talked so coolly and confidently as Andrews 
 did! 
 
 Keeping exactly on regular time, we proceeded with- 
 out any striking adventures until Kingston was reached. 
 This place — thirty-two miles from Big Shanty — we re- 
 garded as marKing the first stage of our journey. Two 
 hours had elapsed since the capture of the train, and 
 hitherto we had been fairly prosperous. No track-lift- 
 ing instruments had yet been obtained, notwithstanding 
 inquiries for them at several stations. We had secured 
 no inflammable materials for more readily firing the 
 bridges, and the road was not yet clear before us. But, 
 
CSF0RE8EEN HINDRANCES. 79 
 
 on the other hand, no serious hindrance had yet oc- 
 curred, and we believed ourselves far ahead of any 
 possible pursuit. 
 
 But at Kingston we had some grounds for appre- 
 hending difficulty. % This little town is at the junction 
 with the road to Rome, Georgia. Cars and engines 
 were standing on the side track. Here we fully ex- 
 pected to meet our first train, and it would be neces- 
 sary for us to get the switches properly adjusted before 
 we could pass it to go on our way. When we drew 
 up at the station there was handed to Andrews our 
 first and last communication from the management of 
 the road, in the shape of a telegram, ordering Fuller's 
 train — now ours — to wait at Kingston for the local 
 freight, which was considerably behind time. The 
 order was not very welcome, but we drew out on the 
 side track, and watched eagerly for the train. Many 
 persons gathered around Andrews, who here, as always, 
 personated the conductor of our train, and showered 
 upon him many curious and somewhat suspicious ques- 
 tions. Ours was an irregular train, but the engine was 
 recognized as Fuller's. The best answers possible were 
 given. A red flag had been placed on our engine, and 
 the announcement was made that Fuller, with another 
 engine, was but a short way behind. The powder story 
 was emphasized, and every means employed to avoid 
 suspicion. Andrews only, and the usual complement 
 of train-hands, were visible, the remainder of the party 
 being tightly shut up in the car, which was designated 
 as containing Beauregard's ammunition. The strik- 
 ing personal appearance of Andrews greatly aided him 
 in carrying through his deception, which was never 
 more difficult than at this station. His commanding 
 presence, and firm but graceful address, marked him 
 as a Southern gentleman, — a member of the class 
 from which a great proportion of the rebel officers 
 were drawn. His declarations and orders were there- 
 fore received with the greater respect on this account. 
 
80 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 But all these resources were here strained to the 
 utmost. 
 
 At length the anxiously-expected local freight train 
 arrived, and took its place on another side track. We 
 were about to start on our way, with the glad conscious- 
 ness that our greatest obstacle was safely passed, when 
 a red flag w T as noticed on the hindmost freight-car. 
 This elicited immediate inquiry, and we were informed 
 that another very long freight train was just behind, and 
 that we would be obliged to wait its arrival also. This 
 was most unfortunate, as we had been already detained 
 at Kingston much longer than was pleasant. There 
 were many disagreeable elements in the situation. A 
 crowd of persons was rapidly assembling. The train 
 from Rome was also nearly due, and though it only 
 came to the station and returned on its own branch, 
 yet it was not agreeable to notice the constant increase 
 of force that our enemies were gaining. If any word 
 from the southward arrived, or if our true character 
 was revealed in any other way, the peril would be im- 
 minent. But we trusted that this second delay would 
 be brief. Slowly the minutes passed by. To us, who 
 were shut up in the box-car, it appeared as if they 
 would never be gone. Our soldier comrades on the 
 outside kept in the background as much as possible, re- 
 maining at their posts on the engine and the cars, while 
 Andrews occupied attention by complaining of the de- 
 lay, and declaring that the road ought to be kept clear of 
 freight trains when so much needed for the transporta- 
 tion of army supplies, and when the fate of the whole 
 army of the West might depend upon the celerity with 
 which it received its ammunition. There was plausi- 
 bility enough in his words to lull suspicion in all minds 
 except that of the old switch-tender of the place, who 
 grumbled out his conviction " that something was wrong 
 with that stylish-looking fellow, who ordered every- 
 body around as if the whole road belonged to him." 
 But no one paid any attention to this man's complaints, 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 8 \ 
 
 and not many minutes after a distant whistle sounded 
 from the northward, and we felt that the crisis had 
 passed. As there was no more room on the side track, 
 Andrews ordered the switch-tender to let this train run 
 by on the main track. That worthy was still grumb- 
 ling, but he reluctantly obeyed, and the long success on 
 of cars soon glided by us. 
 
 This meant release from a suspense more intolerable 
 than the most perilous action. To calmly wait where 
 we could do nothing, while our destiny was being 
 wrought out by forces operating in the darkness, was a 
 terrible trial of nerve. But it was well borne. Brown, 
 Knight, and Wilson, who were exposed to view, ex- 
 hibited no more impatience than was to be expected of 
 men in their assumed situation. Those of us in the 
 box-car talked in whispers only, and examined the 
 priming of our pistols. We understood that we were 
 waiting for a delayed train, and well knew the fearful 
 possibilities of an obstructed track, with the speedy de- 
 tection, and fight against overwhelming odds that would 
 follow, if the train for which we waited did not arrive 
 sooner than pursuers from Big Shanty. When we rec- 
 ognized the whistle of the coming train it was almost as 
 welcome as the boom of Mitchel's cannon, which we 
 expected to hear that evening after all our work was 
 done. As it rumbled by us we fully expected an in- 
 stant start, a swift run of a few miles, and then the 
 hard work but pleasant excitement of bridge-burning. 
 Alas! 
 
 Swift and frequent are the mutations of war. Suc- 
 cess can never be assured to any enterprise in advance. 
 The train for which we had waited with so much anx- 
 iety had no sooner stopped than we beheld on it an 
 emblem more terrible than any comet that ever frighted 
 a superstitious continent. Another red flag ! An- 
 other train close behind ! This was terrible, but what 
 could be done? With admirable presence of mind 
 Andrews moderated his impatience, and asked the 
 
 / 
 
82 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 conductor of the newly-arrived train the meaning of 
 such an unusual obstruction of the road. His tone 
 was commanding, and without reserve the conductor 
 gave the full explanation. To Andrews it had a thrill- 
 ing interest. The commander at Chattanooga had re- 
 ceived information that the Yankee General Mitchel 
 was coming by forced marches and in full strength 
 against that town ; therefore all the rolling-stock of 
 the road had been ordered to Atlanta. This train was 
 the first instalment, but another and still longer section 
 was behind. It was to start a few minutes after he 
 did, and would probably not be more than ten or fifteen 
 minutes behind. In turn, the conductor asked An- 
 drews who he was, and received the information that 
 he was an agejit of General Beauregard, and that he 
 had impressed a train into military service in Atlanta, 
 which he was running through with powder, of which 
 Beauregard was in extreme need. Under such cir- 
 cumstances he greatly regretted this unfortunate deten- 
 tion. The conductor did not suspect the falsity of 
 these pretences, but told Andrews that it was very 
 doubtful if he could get to Beauregard at Corinth by 
 going through Chattanooga, as it was certain that 
 Mitchel had captured Huntsville, directly on the line 
 between them. Andrews replied that this made no 
 difference, as he had his orders, and should press on 
 until they were countermanded, adding that Mitchel was 
 probably only paying a flying visit to Huntsville, and 
 would have to be gone soon, or find Beauregard upon 
 him. Andrews also ordered the conductor to run far 
 enough down the main track to allow the next train 
 to draw in behind him, and for both trains there to 
 wait the coming of Fuller with the regular mail. His 
 orders were implicitly obeyed ; and then to our party 
 recommenced the awful trial of quiet waiting. One 
 of the men outside was directed to give notice to those 
 in the box-car of the nature of the detention, and 
 warn them to be ready for any emergency. Either 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 83 
 
 Brown or Knight, I think, executed this commission. 
 Leaning: against our car, but without turning his eves 
 towards it, and speaking in a low voice, he said, " We 
 are waiting for one of the trains the rebels are running 
 off from Mitch el. If we are detected before it comes, 
 we will have to fight. Be ready." We were ready ; 
 and so intolerable is suspense that most of us would 
 have felt as a welcome relief the command to throw 
 open our door and spring into deadly conflict. 
 
 Slowly the leaden moments dragged themselves away. 
 It seems scarcely creditable, but it is literally true, that 
 for twenty-five minutes more we lay on that side track 
 and waited, — waited with minds absorbed, pulses leap- 
 ing, and ears strained for the faintest sound which 
 might give a hint as to our destiny. One precious 
 hour had we wasted at Kingston, — time enough to 
 have burned every bridge between that place and Dal- 
 ton ! The whole margin of time on which we had 
 allowed ourselves to count was two hours ; now half 
 of that was thrown away at one station, and nothing 
 accomplished. We dared wait no longer. Andrews 
 decided to rush ahead with the intention of meeting 
 this extra train wherever it might be found, and forcing 
 it to back before him to the next siding, where he could 
 pass it. The resolution was in every way dangerous, 
 but the danger would at least be of an active character. 
 Just at this moment the long-expected whistle was 
 heard, and soon the train came into plain view, bring- 
 ing with it an almost interminable string of cars. The 
 weight and length of its train had caused the long de- 
 lay. Obedient to direction, it followed the first extra 
 down the main track, and its locomotive was a long 
 way removed from the depot when the last car cleared 
 the upper end of the side track on which we lay. At 
 length it had got far enough down, and it was possible 
 for us to push on. Andrews instantly ordered the 
 switch-tender to arrange the track so as to let us out. 
 
 But here a new difficulty presented itself. This man 
 
84 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 had been in an ill humor from the first, and was now 
 fully convinced that something was wrong. Possibly 
 the tone in which he was addressed irritated him still 
 mere. He therefore responded to Andrews' order by 
 a surly refusal, and hung up the keys in the station- 
 house. When we in the box-car overheard his denial, 
 we were sure that the time for fighting had come. There 
 was no more reason for dreading the issue of a conflict 
 at this station than at any other point, and we waited 
 the signal with the confident expectation of victory. 
 
 But even a victory at that moment would have been 
 most undesirable. We had no wish to shed blood un- 
 necessarily. A telegraph office was at hand, and it was 
 possible that before the wire could be cut a message 
 might be flashed ahead. There were also engines in 
 readiness for prompt pursuit, and while we might have 
 overcome immediate opposition by the use of our fire- 
 arms, our triumph would have been the signal for a 
 close and terrible chase. 
 
 The daring coolness of Andrews removed all em- 
 barrassments. While men are hesitating and in doubt, 
 boldness and promptness on the part of an opponent 
 are almost sure to carry the day. Ceasing to address 
 the switch-tender, Andrews walked hurriedly into the 
 station, and with the truthful remark that he had no 
 more time to waste, took down the kev and began to 
 unlock the switch. The tender cursed him terribly, 
 and called for some to arrest him. The crowd around 
 also disliked the action, and began to hoot and yell ;. 
 but before any one had decided as to what ought to be 
 done Andrews had unlocked and changed the switch, 
 and waved his hand for the engineer to come on. It 
 was an inexpressible relief when the cars moved for- 
 ward and the sounds of strife died out. As soon as 
 the locomotive passed to the main track, Andrews 
 tossed the keys to the ruffled owner of them, saying, in 
 his blandest manner, " Pardon me, sir, for being in. 
 such a hurry, but the Confederacy can't wait for every 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. g5 
 
 man's notions. You'll find it is all right/' and stepped 
 on board his engine. The excitement gradually ceased, 
 and no thought of pursuit was entertained until start- 
 ling intelligence was received a few moments later 
 from Big Shanty. 
 
 Before describing the terrible struggle above Kings- 
 ton, it will be well to narrate the operations of the per- 
 sons whose train had been so unceremoniously snatched 
 from them at Big Shanty. From printed accounts 
 published contemporaneously by several of those en- 
 gaged in the pursuit, as well as from personal responses 
 to inquiries made regarding the most material points, 
 the writer is confident that he can tell the strange story 
 without essential error. It is a striking commentary 
 on the promptness of the seizure, that the bystanders 
 generally reported that only eight men, instead of 
 twenty, had been observed to mount the train. 
 
 William A. Fuller, conductor, Anthony Murphy, 
 manager of the State railroad shops at Atlanta, and 
 Jefferson Cain, engineer, stepped off their locomotive, 
 leaving it unguarded save by the surrounding sentinels, 
 and in perfect confidence took their seats at the break- 
 fast-table at Big Shanty. But before they had tasted 
 a morsel of food the quick ear of Murphy, who was 
 seated with his back towards the window, caught the 
 sound of escaping steam, and he exclaimed, " Fuller, 
 who's moving your train? 1 ' Almost simultaneously 
 the latter, who was somewhat of a ladies' man, and was 
 bestowing polite attentions upon two or three fair pas- 
 sengers, saw the same movement, and sprang up, shout- 
 ing, " Somebody's running off with our train!" N: 
 breakfast was eaten then. Everybody rushed through 
 the door to the platform. The train was then fully 
 under way, just sweeping out of sight around the first 
 curve. With quick decision Fuller shouted to Mur- 
 phy and Cain, " Come on !" and started at a full run 
 after the flying train ! This attempt to run down and 
 catch a locomotive by a foot-race seemed so absurd that 
 
86 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 as the three, at the top of their speed, passed around 
 the same curve, they were greeted with loud laughter 
 and ironical cheers by the excited multitude. To all 
 appearances it was a foolish and hopeless chase. 
 
 Yet, paradoxical as the statement may seem, this ■ 
 chase on foot was the wisest course possible for Fuller 
 and his companions. What else could they do ? Had 
 they remained quietly in camp, with no show of zeal, 
 they would have been reproached with negligence in 
 not guarding their train more carefully, even if they 
 were not accused with being in league with its captors. 
 As they ran, Fuller explained the situation and his 
 purposes to his companions. They had neither electric 
 battery nor engine. Had they obtained horses, they 
 would necessarily have followed the common road, in- 
 stead of the railroad, and if they thought of that expe- 
 dient at all, it would be as distasteful to railroad men 
 as abandoning their ship to sailors, and they preferred 
 leaving that course for others. It would have been 
 wise for those who could think of nothing else to do 
 to ride as mounted couriers to the stations ahead ; but 
 whether this was done or not I have never learned. 
 Certainly it was not done so promptly as to influence 
 the fortunes of the day. 
 
 But the truth is that Fuller and Murphy were at 
 first completely deceived as to the nature of the event 
 which had taken place. They had been warned to 
 guard against the escape of conscript deserters from 
 that very camp ;' and although they would never have 
 suspected an attempt on the part of the conscripts to 
 escape by capturing their engine, yet when it was seen 
 to dash off, the thought of this warning was naturally 
 uppermost. Even then Fuller conjectured that they 
 would use his engine only to get a mile or two beyond 
 the guard line, and then abandon it. He was there- 
 fore anxious to follow closely in order to find the 
 engine and return for his passengers at the earliest 
 moment possible. Little did he anticipate the full. 
 
CAPTAIN WM. A. FULLER. 
 
 (Conductor of Pursuing Train.) 
 
 Page 87. 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 87 
 
 magnitude of the work and the danger before him. 
 That any Federal soldiers were within a hundred miles 
 of Big Shanty never entered his mind or that of any 
 other person. 
 
 For a mile or two the three footmen ran at the top 
 of their speed, straining their eyes forward for any 
 trace of the lost engine which they expected to see 
 halted and abandoned at almost any point on the road. 
 Rut they were soon partially undeceived as to the char- 
 acter of their enemies. About two miles from the 
 place of starting they found the telegraph wire sev- 
 ered and a portion of it carried away. The fugitives 
 were also reported as quietly oiling and inspecting their 
 engine. No mere deserters would be likely to think 
 of this. The two actions combined clearly indicated 
 the intention of making a long run, but who the men 
 were still remained a mystery. A few hundred yards 
 from this place a party of workmen with a hand-car 
 was found, and these most welcome reinforcements 
 were at once pressed into the service. 
 
 Fuller's plans now became more definite and deter- 
 mined. He had a good hand-car and abundance of 
 willing muscle to work it. By desperate exertions, by 
 running behind the car and pushing it up the steep 
 grades, and then mounting and driving it furiously 
 down-hill and on the levels, it was possible to make 
 seven or eight miles an hour; at the same time, Fuller 
 knew that the captive engine, if held back to run on 
 schedule time, as the reports of the workmen indicated, 
 would make but sixteen miles per hour. Fuller bent 
 all his thoughts and energies towards Kingston, thirty 
 miles distant. He had been informed of the extra 
 trains to be met at that point, and was justified in sup- 
 posing that the adventurers would be greatly perplexed 
 and hindered by them, even if they were not totally 
 stopped. Had the seizure taken place on the preceding 
 day, as originally planned, he might well have de- 
 spaired, foi then the road would have been clear. Yet 
 
#8 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 he had one other resource, as will appear in due time, 
 of which his enemies knew nothing. 
 
 Fuller did not pause to consider how he should de- 
 feat the fugitives when he had overtaken them, and he 
 might have paid dearly for this rashness. But he could 
 rely on help at any station, and when he had obtained 
 the means of conveyance, as he would be sure to do at 
 Kingston, he could easily find an overwhelming force 
 to take with him. This Saturday was appointed as a 
 general muster of volunteers, State militia, and con- 
 scripts, and armed soldiers were abundant in every 
 village. But Fuller's dominant thought was that his 
 property — the property with which he had been in- 
 trusted — was wrested from his grasp, and it was his 
 duty to recover it, at whatever of personal hazard. That 
 any serious harm was intended to the railroad itself he 
 probably did not yet suspect. 
 
 Talking and wearying themselves with idle conjec- 
 tures, but never ceasing to work, Fuller and his party 
 pressed swiftly on. But suddenly there was a crash, a 
 sense of falling, and when the shock allowed them to 
 realize what had happened, they found themselves 
 floundering in a ditch half filled with water, and their 
 hand-car imbedded in the mud beside them ! They 
 had reached the place where the first rail had been torn 
 from the track, and had suffered accordingly. But the 
 bank was, fortunately for them, not very high at that 
 spot, and a few bruises were all the damage they sus- 
 tained. Their hand-car, which was also uninjured, 
 was lifted on the track and driven on again. This in- 
 cident increased both their caution and their respect 
 for the men before them. 
 
 Without further mishap they reached Etowah Sta- 
 tion, on the northern bank of the river of the same 
 name. Here was a large bridge, which the Andrews 
 party might have burned without loss of time had they 
 foreseen the long detention at Kingston ; but its de- 
 struction was not a part of their plan, and it was suf- 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. go, 
 
 fered to stand. The mind of Fuller grew very anxious 
 as he approached this station. On what he should find 
 there depended, in all probability, his power to over- 
 take the fugitives, whose intentions seemed more for- 
 midable with each report he received of their actions. 
 Andrews had firmly believed that no engine for pur- 
 suit could be found south of Kingston; but Fuller had 
 a different expectation. 
 
 Extensive iron-furnaces were located on the Etowah 
 River, about five miles above the station. These works 
 were connected with the railroad by a private track, 
 which was the property of Major Cooper, as well as the 
 works themselves. Murphy knew that Major Cooper 
 had also bought an engine called the " Yonah." It had 
 been built in the shop over which Murphy presided, 
 and was one of the best locomotives in the State. " But 
 where," Fuller and Murphy asked themselves, " is this 
 engine now ?" If it was in view of the adventurers as 
 they passed, they had doubtless destroyed it, ran it off the 
 track, or carried it away with them. They could not af- 
 ford to neglect such an element in the terrible game thev 
 were playing. But if it was now at the upper end of 
 the branch at the mines, as was most probable, it would 
 take the pursuers five miles out of their way to go for 
 it, and even then it might not be ready to start. This 
 diversion could not be afforded. Fuller and Murphy 
 had come nineteen miles, and had already consumed 
 two hours and three-quarters. The adventurers were 
 reported as passing each station on time, and if this 
 continued they must have reached Kingston forty-five 
 minutes before Fuller and his companions arrived at 
 Etowah, thirteen miles behind them. One hour and a 
 half more to Kingston, — this was the very best that could 
 be done with the hand-car. It was clear that if the 
 " Yonah" did not come to their assistance, they were as 
 effectually out of the race as if on the other side of the 
 ocean. Everything now hinged on the position of that 
 one engine. 
 
 8* 
 
90 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Here we may pause to note how all coincidences, we 
 might almost say providences, seemed to work against 
 the bridge-burning enterprise. We were at Kingston 
 three-quarters of an hour before our pursuers reached 
 Etowah, thirteen miles distant. If there had been no 
 extra trains, or if they had been sharply on time, so 
 that we could have passed the three with a delay not 
 exceeding fifteen or twenty minutes, which ought to 
 have been an abundant allowance, every bridge above 
 Kingston would have been in ashes before sundown ! 
 Or if the delay had been as great as it actually was, 
 even then, if the locomotive " Yonah" had occupied 
 any position excepting one, the same result would have 
 followed. 
 
 But Fuller, Murphy, and Cain, with the several 
 armed men they had picked up at the stations passed, 
 could not repress shouts of exultation when they saw 
 the old " Yonah" standing on the main track, ready 
 fired up, and headed towards Kingston. It had just 
 arrived from the mines, and in a short time would have 
 returned again. Thus a new element of tremendous 
 importance, which had been ignored in all our calcula- 
 tions, was introduced into the contest. 
 
 The pursuers seized their inestimable prize, called for 
 all the volunteers who could snatch guns at a moment's 
 notice, and were soon swiftly but cautiously rushing 
 with the power of steam towards Kingston. The speed 
 of nearly a mile a minute was in refreshing contrast to 
 the slow and laborious progress of the hand-car, and 
 they were naturally jubilant. But what lay before them 
 at Kingston ? The frequent obstructions of the track, 
 the continued cutting of the telegraph, and especially 
 the cool assumption of the leader of the adventurers in 
 calling himself a Confederate officer of high rank in 
 charge of an impressed powder train, all conspired to 
 deepen their conviction that some desperate scheme was 
 on foot. But they did not pause long to listen to re- 
 ports. Their eyes and their thoughts were bent towards 
 
UNFORESEEN HINDRANCES. 9) 
 
 Kingston. Had the adventurers been stopped there, or 
 had they surprised and destroyed the trains met ? The 
 pursuers could scarcely form a conjecture as to what 
 was before them ; but the speed with which they were 
 flying past station after station would soon end their 
 suspense. Even the number of men on the flying train 
 was a matter of uncertainty. At the stations passed ob- 
 servers reported that only four or five were seen ; but 
 the track-lavers and others who had observed them at 
 work were confident of a much larger number, — twenty- 
 five or thirty at the least. Besides, it was by no means 
 sure that they had not confederates in large numbers to 
 co-operate with them at the various stations along the 
 road. Fuller knew about how many persons had en- 
 tered the train at Marietta ; but it was not sure that 
 these were all. A hundred more might be scattered 
 along the way, at various points, ready to join in what- 
 ever strange plan was now being worked out. No con- 
 jecture of this kind that could be formed was a particle 
 more improbable than the startling events that had al- 
 ready taken place. The cool courage of these pursuers, 
 who determined to press forward and do their own duty 
 at whatever risk, cannot be too highly rated. If they 
 arrived at Kingston in time to unmask the pretension 
 of the mysterious " Confederate officer," there would 
 doubtless be a desperate fight ; but the pursuers could 
 count on assistance there and all along the line. 
 
 Fuller reached Kingston at least an hour earlier than 
 would have been possible with the hand-car, and a 
 single glance showed that the adventurers were gone, 
 and his hopes of arresting them at that point were 
 ended. They were, however, barely out of sight, and 
 all their start had been reduced to minutes. But here 
 again the pursuit was checked. The foresight of An- 
 drews had blockaded the road as much as possible with 
 the trains which had so long hindered his own move- 
 ments. Two large and heavy trains stood on the main 
 road ; one of the two side tracks was occupied by the 
 
92 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 third freight, and the other by the engine of the Rome 
 branch. There was no ready means for the passage of 
 the " Yonah." Some precious time was employed in 
 giving and receiving information, in telling of the seizure 
 at Big Shanty, and hearing of the deportment of An- 
 drews and his men at Kingston. Then a dispute arose 
 as to the best means of continuing the pursuit, which 
 threatened to disunite Fuller and Murphy. The latter 
 wished to continue the chase with the " Yonah," which 
 was a fine engine, with large wheels ; but Fuller would 
 not wait to get the freights out of the way, and, jump- 
 ing on the Rome engine, he called on all who were will- 
 ing to assist him to come on. A large, enthusiastic, and 
 well-armed company instantly volunteered ; the new 
 engine, the " Shorter," pulled out, and Murphy had only 
 time to save himself from the disgrace of being left be- 
 hind by jumping on the hindmost car as it swept past. 
 With all the time lost in making this transfer, and in 
 mutual explanations, the pursuers left Kingston just 
 twenty minutes behind the Federals. 
 
 What Fuller and his friends learned at Kingston left 
 no doubt on their minds that some deliberate and far- 
 reaching military movement was on foot. While its pre- 
 cise nature was yet concealed, the probability that the 
 road itself, and possibly Confederate towns and stores, 
 were to be destroyed, was freely conceded. All agreed 
 that the one thing to be done was to follow their enemies 
 elosely, and thus compel them to turn and fight or 
 abandon their enterprise. A large force — one or two 
 hundred well-armed men — was taken on board, and in- 
 structions left that as soon as the track could be cleared 
 another armed train was to follow for the purpose of 
 rendering any needed assistance. 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. g;> 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 
 
 We will now resume the direct narrative. 
 
 When Kingston was left behind, it was believed by 
 our leader that, notwithstanding all our vexatious de- 
 lays, we still had a margin of at least an hour's time. 
 Our movements were arranged on that supposition. 
 The next considerable station, Adairsville, was aboui 
 ten miles distant, and the intervening country compara- 
 tively level. There were no considerable bridges in 
 this space, and the most we could do was to run swiftly, 
 and occasionally to obstruct the track. Our speed was 
 increased to about forty miles an hour, and this swift 
 running, after our long halt at Kingston, was ex- 
 quisitely delightful. Looking out from the crevices 
 of the box-car, we saw the hills and trees gliding swiftly 
 by, and felt that each moment we were getting farther 
 away from the foes who had so long surrounded us, 
 and nearer safety and triumph. While we were ac- 
 tually under way our prospects did not yet seem very 
 unfavorable. There were yet one freight and one pas- 
 senger train to meet, which we would now encounter 
 an hour farther south, because of our long hindrance ; 
 but we felt confident of our power to deceive or over- 
 power them, and they did not embarrass our running 
 because they were on the regular schedule. The freight 
 was now almost due at Adairsville, and we expected 
 the passenger train to overtake and go ahead of it from 
 that point. If they were both on time we would also 
 meet them there, and then have an absolutely open road 
 to Chattanooga. It will show the tremendous risks 
 that encompassed our enterprise, when we reflect that 
 
94 CAtTURlXG A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 so trifling a circumstance as the delay or the misplace- 
 ment of a train could introduce an " if " into our most 
 hopeful plans. 
 
 A short distance south of Adairsville we again 
 stopped, and Andrews called us to come forth and 
 work with a will. No exhortation was needed. John 
 Scott, as usual, climbed the telegraph-pole, and the 
 wire was soon severed. Two or three rails were slowly 
 and painfully battered loose with our iron bar, which 
 still constituted our only instrument for track-lifting. 
 These were loaded on the car to carry away with us. 
 There happened to be a large number of cross-ties 
 lying near, and these we also loaded up for future use. 
 When all was done we moved on, feeling that we had 
 provided for the delay or destruction of any train that 
 might pursue. It was also probable that the first train 
 which met us at Adairsville would be wrecked. This 
 was not our design, as we did not relish wanton mis- 
 chief; but there was no safe way of giving warning, 
 and a wrecked train would have been a considerable 
 obstruction of the track. 
 
 We reached Adairsville before the expected freight, 
 but had only just taken our place on the side track 
 when its whistle was heard. When it came up, An- 
 drews, who still personated a Confederate officer, and 
 exacted and received the obedience which in those days 
 of conscription and impressment was readily yielded to 
 military authority, ordered the train to be run past the 
 station and back again on the side track behind his 
 own, to wait for the expected passenger train. The 
 usual explanations about the powder train were re- 
 peated to credulous ears. Then came five minutes of 
 suspense and waiting. The train was behind time, — 
 a trifling matter in itself, but, in our situation, each 
 minute might turn the scale between death and life. 
 We could not afford to repeat the experience of Kings- 
 ton. Not one bridge had yet been burned, and all we 
 could show for our hazard, beside our captured train, 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 95 
 
 were a few cross-ties and lifted rails. After a whis- 
 pered word of consultation with his engineer, who was 
 willing to assume the most deadly risks rather than to 
 lie still, Andrews remarked to the bystanders that a 
 government powder express must not be detained by 
 any number of passenger trains, and then gave the 
 word, " Go ahead !" 
 
 We started quite moderately, but, as soon as the sta- 
 tion was out of sight, we noticed a wonderful accelera- 
 tion of speed. The cars seemed almost to leap from the 
 track, and we whirled from side to side at a bewilder- 
 ing rate. There was scarcely any slackening for curves 
 or grades, and our whistle rang out with scarcely a 
 moment's cessation. In the box-car we could retain 
 no position for more than an instant, and were jostled 
 over each other and against the sides of the car much 
 oftener than was pleasant. No one of us had ever 
 rode at such a rate before. Though we had no means 
 of measuring the speed, none of us estimated it at less 
 than a mile a minute. What was the meaning of such 
 a break-neck pace ? Had Andrews discovered that we 
 were pursued, and was he making a desperate effort to 
 escape from the enemy? Or was he simply hurrying 
 to the bridges we were to burn ? Such questions were 
 easier asked than answered, for two cars and the tender 
 intervened between us and the locomotive, on which 
 our leader was. At any rate, the moments were rap- 
 idly carrying us towards our own lines, and a very few 
 hours of such running would see us delivered from the 
 series of perils which had so long environed us. We 
 had learned that just beyond Calhoun, a station only ten 
 miles from Adairsville, there was a large bridge, which 
 we knew was marked for destruction. If that was 
 passed without stopping, we would be convinced that 
 an enemy was on our track, and that the race was sim- 
 ply for life. A few minutes would decide. But in the 
 mean time, as an enemy might be following us, it oc- 
 curred to the writer that it would be well to continue 
 
96 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 obstructing the track. This was accomplished by- 
 breaking open the hind end of the last box-car, and 
 shoving out one by one the ties previously loaded. A 
 part only of the ties on board were thus employed, as 
 we thought it possible that the remainder might be 
 more useful in other directions. Many of those sprin- 
 kled on the track showed a perverse disposition to 
 jump off, but we felt sure that enough remained to 
 make a pursuer cautious. Nothing more impressed us 
 with the fearful speed of our train than the manner in 
 which these ties seemed instantly to vanish when they 
 touched the ground. 
 
 By thus exerting the full speed of the engine An- 
 drews hoped to reach Calhoun before the belated pas- 
 senger train should arrive. The engineer stood with 
 his hand on the lever ready to reverse his engine the 
 moment an opposing train was sighted. The open 
 character of the country in this part of the route per- 
 mitted a good outlook. The whistle was also kept 
 sounding that an opposite train might be warned and 
 checked. It was the intention of Andrews, in case of 
 meeting the expected train, to reverse his own engine 
 only long enough to escape the danger of collision, 
 and then to persuade or compel the other to back be- 
 fore him to the first siding. This lightning-like run 
 was bold and full of peril, but it was wise. Had the 
 same risk been promptly assumed at Kingston the whole 
 future of the enterprise would have been different. But 
 we reached Calhoun before any train was met. When 
 we slackened speed, just before arriving at the station, 
 we shoved out one more cross- tie, and then carefully 
 concealed the hole in the car by piling other ties across 
 it. As we drew nearer, great was the satisfaction of 
 Andrews and his engineer when they saw the belated 
 passenger train — our last obstacle — lying quietly at the 
 station. It had been just starting, but, on hearing our 
 whistle, it awaited our arrival. We ran down almost 
 against it, and, without getting off his locomotive, An- 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 97 
 
 drews shouted his orders to have the road cleared for 
 an impressed powder train. The news from the north 
 and west — the panic caused by the rumored approach 
 of General Mitchel — made this sudden demand seem 
 less unreasonable, and it was unhesitatingly obeyed. 
 The passenger train was switched out of the way, and 
 we glided smoothly by the last train we were to meet. 
 Thus, at length, we had reached the ground where 
 bridge-burning was to begin, and all obstacles were out 
 of the way ; what could hinder full and decisive suc- 
 cess? 
 
 Fuller and Murphy had not left Kingston many 
 minutes before they became conscious of the error they 
 had committed in exchanging the " Yonah" for the 
 " Shorter." The latter was a weak engine with small 
 wheels. It was now forced to the utmost, oil being 
 freely used with the wood in the furnace ; but they 
 were unable to equal the tremendous speed with which 
 they had made the previous stage of their journey. 
 Though they had but two or three cars and the advan- 
 tage of a level and unobstructed track, they could not 
 exceed forty miles an hour. They maintained a vigi- 
 lant lookout, but ran with the steam-valve entirely 
 open, while Murphy and Cain both grasped the lever, 
 ready to use their combined weight and strength in 
 reversing the motion if any obstacle should be descried. 
 Their vigilance was soon approved. They observed 
 the point at which we had removed rails, and, by re- 
 versing, were able to arrest their motion just on the 
 edge of the break. But here they found themselves 
 confronted with a terrible obstacle. They had no rails 
 to replace those that had been carried off. Some in- 
 struments for track-laying were on board, and it was 
 suggested to tear up rails behind and place them in the 
 break. This double labor required too much time to 
 suit the ardent temper of Fuller and Murphy. At 
 once they repeated the old tactics which alone had given 
 them any hope of success. They abandoned their en 
 
 E g 9 
 
98 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 gine and ran ahead once more on foot. The remainder 
 of their company remained behind, and probably did, 
 after a time, succeed in lifting rails behind their engine 
 and laying them down before, as a contemporaneous 
 account asserts ; but they had no further real part in 
 the chase. 
 
 Before the two footmen had gone far they encoun- 
 tered the regular freight train that we had met at 
 Adairsville. Tims their delay was reduced to a very 
 small amount. It seems that almost as soon as An- 
 drews and his party had left Adairsville for their rapid 
 flight towards Calhoun, this train, guided either by the 
 decision of the conductor, or by a telegraphic message 
 from the management of the road, started southward, 
 and were met no more than a mile or two on their way 
 by the dauntless pursuers. Great was the amazement 
 of the men on the freight train to learn that the fine- 
 looking Confederate officer with whom they had been 
 talking five minutes before was probably a " Yankee" 
 engaged in the most daring exploit of the war. But 
 not much time was allowed for the indulgence of any 
 emotion. Fuller promptly took command of the train 
 and backed it with all possible speed to Adairsville. 
 Its engine, the " Texas," was known to Fuller as one of 
 the largest and best in the State. While backing and 
 pushing the whole train of nearly twenty cars it made 
 the most rapid speed that they had yet attained. 
 
 But still greater speed was necessary, and by throwing 
 all but one or two cars on the side track at Adairsville, 
 the noble engine was relieved and enabled to show all 
 its fine qualities. No turn-table being at hand, it had 
 still to be run backward ; but that position does not ma- 
 terially lessen the power of an engine, though the risk 
 of accident is somewhat increased. This risk had been 
 taken, however, in so many instances by the desperate 
 pursuers, and with perfect safety, that they were will- 
 ing to tempt fortune still further. The engineer of 
 the captured train had been left behind at the last 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 99 
 
 "break, but his place was ably supplied by Peter 
 Bracken, of the " Texas." Starting from Adairsville 
 with a full head of steam, the distance of ten miles to 
 Calhoun was run in twelve minutes, and even this tre- 
 mendous speed would have been exceeded but for the 
 slight delay caused by the ties dropped on the track. 
 When one of these obstructions was seen, Fuller, who 
 had stationed himself for that purpose on the end of 
 the tender which ran ahead, would jump off, remove 
 the tie, and be back to his place almost before the' en- 
 gine ceased to move. The uniform mode of stopping 
 to clear the track was by reversing the engine. Aside 
 from the time lost in these stops, the running must 
 have exceeded a mile per minute. This exceeding ra- 
 pidity prevented any loss of distance in this stage of 
 the pursuit. 
 
 At Calhoun, Fuller scarcely made a full stop. He 
 told his tale in a few words and called for volunteers. 
 A number came just as he was moving on again ; in- 
 deed, after the train was well under way, he secured a 
 still more valuable prize. The telegraph managers at 
 Chattanooga had found that the wires were broken, and 
 were endeavoring to discover the source of mischief. 
 By telegraphing to different stations and asking for re- 
 plies, they could easily make an approximate estimate. 
 But the difficulty was coming nearer : they discovered 
 that one station after another was being cut off from 
 communication with headquarters. South of Calhoun 
 they could get no reply at the time the passenger train 
 reached Dalton. They had, therefore, directed the 
 only operator at that station — a mere boy — to leave his 
 post and go to Calhoun for the purpose of discovering 
 and remedying the mischief. Fuller recognized him 
 on the platform, and reached out his hand, shouting, 
 " Come I" The boy took hold and was lifted on the 
 flying engine. 
 
 With no thought of our deadly peril we had stopped 
 a short distance above Calhoun to cut the telegraph 
 
100 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 and oil the engine. Several of us were also engaged 
 in battering out the spikes preparatory to lifting an- 
 other rail. As we expected to spend ten or fifteen 
 minutes in burning the large bridge which spanned the 
 Oostenaula River, a little distance from us, Andrews 
 thought it better that we should have a rail up in or- 
 der to guard against the possibility of the train we had 
 just passed being turned back after us in time to inter- 
 rupt our work. It might have been better, as we were 
 tempted to think afterwards, if we had begun on the 
 bridge directly ; but it was absolutely necessary to cut 
 the wire, and the lifting of the rail would not take an 
 additional minute. 
 
 The engine was inspected, and found to be still in 
 perfect condition, though both wood and water were 
 running low ; the wire was severed ; and eight of us 
 had just taken hold of the loose end of a rail, out of 
 which the spikes had been battered, and were trying to 
 pull the other end loose also. But it was too firmly 
 fixed, and we were about to release it, and wait the 
 taking out of a few more spikes, when, away in the dis- 
 tance, we heard the whistle of an engine in pursuit ! 
 The effect was magical. With one convulsive effort 
 the rail was broken asunder, and the whole party 
 pitched in a heap over the low embankment. No one 
 was hurt, and we were on our feet in a moment. 
 
 It did not require many moments to realize the situ- 
 ation. Our enemies were upon us at last ! Their train 
 was in plain sight. We could even see that they were 
 well armed. There seemed to be no resource but 
 flight. 
 
 But from whence came this train ? The facts with 
 which the reader is already familiar were all unknown 
 to us, and the apparition of the pursuers all the more 
 terrible on that account. We knew the difficulties 
 against which we had struggled, and little thought that 
 our pursuers had encountered nearly equal obstacles,, 
 over which they had so far been marvellously victorious.. 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 101 
 
 Greater surprise would not have been created in our 
 ranks had the locomotive, to whose scream we unwill- 
 ingly listened, dropped from the sky ! One plausible 
 conjecture only presented itself as to the presence of 
 this train, and, if this one was correct, it could be but 
 the earnest of speedy defeat and death. Possibly a 
 telegraphic message from the other side of Big Shanty 
 had traversed the wide circuit of more than two thou- 
 sand miles past Atlanta, Richmond, Chattanooga, and 
 back again to Calhoun, reaching the latter place just 
 before the wire was cut, and inducing them to start 
 back the train we had just met at full speed after us. 
 All this was possible, — at least it seemed so to those of 
 us who were not in the secret of the wide-spread system 
 of military operations, — unless, indeed, the foresight of 
 our government had provided at this very time for the 
 severing of the telegraph on the Carolina coast, at which 
 place alone this circuit came within striking distance of 
 the Union lines. 
 
 But we had no time for idle conjectures. The fact 
 was patent that a train was bearing down upon us at 
 full speed. " Shall we stand and fight ? Shall we 
 attack them now ?" were questions eagerly asked. 
 
 But Andrews still hesitated to depart from the course 
 pursued so far. We had the rail broken which would 
 arrest the enemy, and probably give us time to fire the 
 bridge ahead. Then all might yet be well, — that is if 
 the stations ahead were not warned, and the track ob- 
 structed before us. Should that prove the case, then 
 to stand and sell our lives as dearly as possible, or, 
 abandoning our engine, to fly on foot across the coun- 
 try, were all the alternatives. The crisis of our fate 
 drew near, and our hardest and sharpest work lay just 
 ahead. 
 
 Influenced by such considerations, which were then 
 mainly confined to his own mind, Andrews, without a 
 moment's hesitation, gave the signal, which was as 
 quickly obeved, for mounting the train. The en- 
 
 9* 
 
102 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 gineer threw the valve wide open, and, with a spring- 
 that threw us from our feet, the noble steed was once 
 more careering forward. To his companions on the 
 locomotive Andrews said, quietly, as he ever spoke in 
 times of deepest excitement, "Push her, boys; let her 
 do her best. We must lose no time in getting to the 
 bridge above." Some of the engine oil was thrown 
 into Mie furnace, and the already fiery pace sensibly 
 quickened. The problem seemed perfectly simple. If 
 we could reach the bridge, and get it well on fire in 
 less time than our enemies could piece out the broken 
 rail, we had still a chance of life and success. If not,, 
 more desperate means became necessary. The speed 
 of the engine might save us a precious half-minute, and 
 on such a narrow margin everything turned. Nobly 
 did our good old locomotive respond to the call ! Rock- 
 ing, whirling, bounding, — it seemed a marvel that some 
 of the box-cars were not hurled from the track. Inside 
 these cars all was action. Though we could scarcely 
 keep one position a moment, idleness could not now be 
 indulged. We knew that the time for concealment had 
 passed, and we wrought with flying fingers in prepara- 
 tion for our incendiary work. The forward end of our 
 box-car, and both ends of the others, were knocked out 
 by employing one of the heavy cross-ties as a battering- 
 ram, and the greater part of the sides were loosened in 
 the same manner, and torn into fragments for kindling. 
 This destruction of barriers also opened a way of com- 
 munication with the engine. Andrews approved what 
 we had done, and told us frankly that our lives prob- 
 ably depended on the number of seconds we consumed 
 in getting the bridge on fire. Just then an exclamation 
 of wonder and dismay from our keen-sighted fireman, 
 Alfred Wilson, drew attention. He declared positively 
 that he saw the smoke of the pursuing engine still fol- 
 lowing us ! It was scarcely credible, but he was so 
 positive, and it was so important to know the truth., 
 that our speed was slackened to ascertain. In a mo 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 103 
 
 rnent a whistle, clear and unmistakable, rang out from 
 beyond a curve we had just passed. All doubt was at 
 an end ; but our surprise and consternation were as 
 great as when the train was first discovered in pursuit. 
 There had been no time to lay again the rail we had 
 taken up, and the broken half of which we still had 
 with us. It seemed a miracle wrought against us. But 
 Andrews' resources were not yet exhausted. He or- 
 dered another effort, which miffht yet give us time to 
 fire the bridge ahead, that he was most unwilling to 
 pass without destroying. The locomotive was re- 
 versed, and our kindling-wood, with most of the ties, 
 carried forward, and the moment we began to move 
 backward the hindmost car was uncoupled. The pur- 
 suing locomotive was then in fearful proximity. We 
 could see that it was running backward, and that a 
 number of men were crowded on it. Almost at the 
 same moment its machinery was reversed and ours 
 turned forward. As we left them at lightning speed 
 we could just see that their velocity was well checked 
 before they touched our abandoned car. 
 
 But this was not yet sufficient. As we came to the 
 next slight up-grade the same manoeuvre was repeated, 
 and our second car flung back at the enemy in like 
 manner. The time lost in doing this brought them 
 again near us, and we saw that they were pushing our 
 first car before them. 
 
 But how had they passed the broken rail? For 
 years I could get no satisfactory information on this 
 subject. Some Confederate accounts spoke of a rail 
 being taken up behind and laid down before the en- 
 gine. But the time was too short to permit such an 
 action. That a stop could be made, a rail taken up, 
 spiked down again, and our engine, running faster than 
 the wind, overtaken, — all of this well inside of five 
 minutes, — was incredible. Very probably this course 
 was adopted in the case of the next train which was 
 pursuing not far behind. Other Confederate accounts 
 
104 CAPTURING- A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 say nothing about this rail, while a few assert that it 
 was not broken at all, but only loosened and left in its 
 place. But having personally helped in the desperate 
 pull, having fallen down the bank with the party, and 
 carried one end of the rail to put on our car, besides 
 having my left hand long suffer from being clasped 
 under the hand of William Campbell, the strongest 
 man of our party, I naturally cannot accept this ex- 
 planation. Conductor Fuller gave another solution of 
 the mystery scarcely less strange, which I repeat as he 
 gave it to me. He said that when he saw our engine 
 start on from this point he could see no obstruction, and 
 allowed the train to continue at high speed. A moment 
 after he noticed a short blank in one of the rails. A 
 terrible fear swept over him, for it w r as now too late to 
 stop. But quick as a lightning-flash he noticed an- 
 other fact, — that the place of the missing rail was on 
 the inside of a sharp curve. He explained to me that 
 a train at a very high rate of speed throws the most of 
 its weight on the outside rail of a curve, which is always 
 made a little higher than the other. Had an outside 
 rail been broken the destruction of their train would 
 have been inevitable, but the break was on the inside. 
 With that rapid decision which the better class of rail- 
 road men learn to exercise, he signalled to the engineer, 
 " Faster ; faster yet !" There was a sharp jolt, and the 
 locomotive and the cars attached were on the other side 
 of the obstruction with their speed not even abated. 
 The next train which followed was the passenger train 
 that we had met at Calhoun, which had also been 
 turned back after us. This train had track- layers and 
 instruments on board, and did very quickly repair the 
 damage ; but if Fuller had waited even that long the 
 bridge over the Oostenaula would have been wrapped 
 in flames before his arrival. 
 
 Fuller saw the car we dropped, and by promptly 
 having his engine reversed, reduced the collision to 
 merely a smart shock. It was dextrously coupled fast 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 1Q5 
 
 and driven forward at full speed. The second car we 
 dropped was treated in the same manner, and the 
 enemy's speed was scarcely diminished. The time lost 
 in dropping the cars was about as long as that lost in 
 coupling to them. 
 
 Thus in the short space between Calhoun and the 
 Oostenaula River three hindrances or perils, the great- 
 ness of which will be best appreciated by railroad men, 
 were overcome by the skill and daring of Fuller's 
 band, and in spite of them they attained a rate of run- 
 ning on this crooked and irregular road which would 
 have been most remarkable on a perfectly smooth and 
 unobstructed track. 
 
 Now the Oostenaula bridge was in sight, and we 
 slackened speed for a desperate attempt to burn it. 
 But before we could come to a full stop the pursuer 
 was close upon us, and very reluctantly we steamed 
 over the bridge and continued our flight. The pros- 
 pect was rapidly darkening before us. It was certain 
 that one of the trains we had met at Adairsville or 
 Calhoun was turned back after us and driven with the 
 utmost determination. Of all conjectures to account 
 for this pursuit, that of a telegram by the way of Rich- 
 mond was most probable and most portentous. If this 
 was really the case, our fate was sealed. With a re- 
 lentless pursuer hanging upon our heels, and the towns 
 ahead warned and ready to dispute our passage, human 
 bravery and foresight would avail nothing. I have 
 no doubt the mind of Andrews was weighed down and 
 perplexed by the uncertainty of our situation. Could 
 we have known even as much of the number and plans 
 of our foes as they knew of ours — above all, could we 
 have known whether the road was open before us — the 
 problem would have been simpler. Yet we had but 
 two hopes : to wreck the train behind us, a task of no 
 small difficulty now they were on their guard ; or, fail- 
 ing in this, to distance them in running far enough to 
 lift some rails or burn one of the bridges still ahead. 
 
106 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 If only one bridge could be burned, it would stop the 
 pursuit for the time and leave us free to encounter the 
 opposition before us. 
 
 Accordingly the jaded "General" was spurred to 
 full speed. The load was now lighter, and as much 
 of the kindling as we thought it prudent to spare was 
 used in putting the furnace into a fiercer blaze. We 
 also resumed the practice of dropping cross-ties from 
 the rear of the car. These efforts had a marked effect 
 in delaying the pursuers, for their smoke and whistle 
 soon ceased to disturb us. But while running at this 
 violent rate we had passed Resaca and thought it pru- 
 dent to again cut the telegraph. While stopping for 
 this purpose the writer took a rail which had been bent 
 in lifting it, and placed it so that one end was held 
 firmly under the track, and the other projected at a 
 little elevation, towards the pursuing train. This was 
 not more than accomplished when that train was heard 
 again, and we mounted our engine and sped onward. 
 As the rail was small and dark, the enemy ran right 
 on it before it was observed, and Fuller afterwards de- 
 clared that if it had been a little lower, it would have 
 been sure to wreck them. But as it was, the end struck 
 the edge of the car, and it was knocked harmlessly 
 from the track. 
 
 Above Tilton we succeeded in getting a full supply 
 of water from the tank. This was most welcome, as 
 the water was nearly exhausted. The wood-station 
 was at another place, and as our supply ran low we 
 threw on fence-rails or any other available fuel when- 
 ever stopping to cut the wires. 
 
 Our condition was now widely different and more 
 unfavorable than it was a short time before. With 
 only one car, and that almost torn to pieces, even the 
 magnificent coolness and self-possession of Andrews 
 could scarcely avert suspicion at any station where we 
 might be driven to halt. And with all our efforts we 
 could never get much more than out of sight of our 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 107 
 
 pursuers. The time required for cutting wires and 
 spent in trying to take up track compensated almost 
 exactly for the time our pursuers spent in removing 
 the obstructions we continued to throw before them. 
 With all their efforts they could not get within easy 
 gunshot of us ; neither could we distance them far 
 enough for the decisive operation of burning a bridge. 
 The relation of the two parties was peculiar and well 
 defined. Each party soon came to recognize the 
 strength and weakness which belonged to its own situ- 
 ation. With their better engine it would have been 
 comparatively easy for our pursuers to come near 
 enough to pick off man after man with their guns, 
 while entirely out of reach of our revolvers. But had 
 they come up so close, any obstruction we might have 
 placed on the track would have been terribly efficient. 
 As long as we possessed cross-ties or anything large 
 enough to wreck a train they were bound to keep a 
 respectful distance. The most favorable position for 
 them was just far enough in the rear to see when we 
 stopped or threw anything on the track, thus enabling 
 them to check up in time. They dared not come nearer 
 than this while we were in rapid motion, but they were 
 often farther behind. 
 
 Mile after mile the terrible chase continued. Station 
 after station was passed without the least lessening of 
 speed. The idlers about the platforms started back in 
 amazement and affright when they saw a train dash by 
 like a thunderbolt, closely followed by three others, the 
 latter screaming as loudly as their whistles were able. 
 To us, who were looking out from the baggage-car, 
 houses and villages, groves and hills, flashed by almost 
 too quickly for distinct vision. Then, in the hottest 
 speed, the whistle would sound " down brakes," and 
 the stop — usually made by reversing the engine — would 
 be so sudden that we needed to cling convulsively to 
 avoid being hurled from our places ; then, in a moment, 
 we would spring to the ground and labor with the en- 
 
108 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ■ergy of despair at destroying the telegraph and the 
 track, or loading on ties, until the signal, — usually from 
 behind, given by the pursuing train, — when all would 
 rush on board, and the engine, putting its full strength 
 into the first leap, would dash on, jerking from their feet 
 all who were not braced for the shock. When under way 
 we could not sit down because of the terrible jolting of 
 the springless car. If we attempted to stand we fell 
 over or were thrown against the little that remained of 
 the sides of the car, and had to be very watchful not to 
 be thrown oif altogether. Our actual position was a 
 rapid alternation of all possible attitudes, the favorite 
 being — judging from the frequency with which it was 
 assumed — that of bending over with the hands and 
 feet resting on the floor. 
 
 Those who were on the engine had a better oppor- 
 tunity of observing all that was passing. Alfred Wil- 
 son, who acted as our fireman, gives a vivid picture of 
 the race from that point of view. He says, — 
 
 " Our locomotive was under a full head of steam. The engi- 
 neer stood with his hand on the lever with the valve wide open. 
 It was frightful to see how the powerful iron monster under us 
 would leap forward under the revolution of her great wheels. 
 Brown (the engineer) would scream to me ever and anon, ' Give 
 her more wood, Alf!' which command was promptly obeyed. 
 She rocked and reeled like a drunken man, while we reeled from 
 side to side like grains of pop-corn in a hot frying-pan. It was 
 bewildering to look at the ground or objects on the roadside. A 
 ■constant stream of tire ran from the rims of the great wheels, 
 and to this day I shudder when I reflect on that, my first and 
 last locomotive ride. We sped past stations, houses, and fields, 
 and were out of sight almost like a meteor, while the bystanders, 
 who barely caught a glimpse of us as we passed, looked on as if 
 in both fear and amazement. It has always been a wonder to 
 me that our locomotive and cars kept the track at all, or how 
 they could possibly stay on the track. At times the iron horse 
 ^eemed to literally fly over the course, the driving-wheels of one 
 •side being lifted from the rails much of the distance over which 
 we now sped with a velocity fearful to contemplate." 
 
 But swift running alone could not save us. In a 
 mere trial of speed between the two engines we were 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 1f)D 
 
 sure in the end to be worsted. To wreck the pursuing 
 train was our great object, and to that end we employed 
 every expedient we could devise. By this time we had 
 a few more track-raising instruments, which Andrews 
 and Wilson had simultaneously taken from some switch- 
 tenders. Earlier in the race they would have been 
 worth their weight in gold, but it was now too late. 
 Even with their help w r e could take up a rail no quicker 
 than the Confederates, with ample supplies of rails, in- 
 struments, and trained workmen, could lay another 
 down. All the efforts we made in this direction were 
 a mere waste of time. 
 
 But the swiftness of pursuit was carrying both par- 
 ties over long spaces. The next station of importance 
 that lay before us was Dalton, and this place, twenty- 
 two miles from Calhoun, was soon reached. This was 
 the largest town we had approached since starting in 
 the morning. It was the junction of another road 
 which led to Cleveland, on the main line to Richmond. 
 It had a further and terrible interest to us, in the 
 knowledge that there we would learn whether our 
 character had really been telegraphed ahead of us by 
 the way of the coast lines and Richmond. But if it 
 had, we would learn it too late to make the knowledge 
 of any service. We would find a military force ready 
 to receive us at the depot, and our race would be run. 
 Yet we approached cautiously, ready, if there were any 
 suspicious indications, to reverse the engine at once and 
 run back towards the pursuing train, with the intention 
 of getting out of the town and trying to escape through 
 the fields. But we saw no more than the usual number 
 of persons about the depot, and Andrews at once leaped 
 from the engine, examined the switch, which was ad- 
 justed to throw a train on the Cleveland fork of the 
 road, had it changed, and answered all questions as 
 coolly and composedly as ever. The whole had to be 
 done very promptly, as the appearance of our poor 
 battered train was sadly against us, and we knew that 
 
 10 
 
HO CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 in a town the size of Dal ton it would be easy to find 
 force enough for our arrest. Besides, it was sure that 
 in a few seconds Fuller and his tireless band would 
 appear on the scene. In no period of this eventful 
 day does the courage and self-control of Andrews shine 
 out more brightly than in the manner in which he here 
 caused the persons about the depot in a moment to obey 
 his orders and believe his story, even while thinking it 
 possible that they might have previous information of 
 his designs, and be only waiting the arrival of assist- 
 ance to destroy him. The pursuing train was heard as 
 expected. Before our foes came near enough to reveal 
 our character everything was arranged, and taking the 
 left-hand road, that which led directly to Chattanooga, 
 we again darted forward. 
 
 This was, however, a decisive point in the race. 
 When we thus passed Dalton without having destroyed 
 our pursuers, we knew that all hope of passing through 
 Chattanooga with our engine must be abandoned. All 
 uneasiness on account of a possible telegram from Rich 
 mond was at an end, but there was a nearer danger, 
 which defined the limits beyond which we could no 
 longer hope to pass. There was a line of telegraph 
 along each of the diverging railroads. We could de- 
 stroy but one of these, and it was certain that as soon 
 as Fuller and his friends arrived at Dalton and told 
 their story, warning would be sent ahead of us by the 
 other road. This will explain what some accounts 
 have left doubtful, — our neglect to cut the wire imme- 
 diately after leaving Dalton. It made no practical dif- 
 ference to us whether the fatal message was sent directly 
 to Chattanooga and all intermediate stations, or whether 
 it went by the way of Cleveland and Chattanooga and 
 then back to the stations on our line. The distance was 
 twice as great in thus telegraphing around two sides of 
 a triangle, but this counted for nothing when lightning 
 was the messenger. Our only resource was in the fact 
 that we were now counting nearly as many miles as 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. m 
 
 minutes, and that we might be far on our way towards 
 Chattanooga, and possibly have some bridges burned, 
 before preparation could be made for stopping us. As 
 a last resource, we now fully expected to have to take 
 to the woods on foot. 
 
 Fuller well knew the decisive advantage he would 
 have at Dalton. As he neared that station he wrote 
 the following dispatch and gave it to the young operator 
 he had taken up at Calhoun, with instructions to put it 
 through to Chattanooga, both ways, with the least pos- 
 sible delay. It proves — if it were not afterwards writ- 
 ten from memory and unconsciously modified — how 
 correctly he had already estimated the character of the 
 men he was chasing. This sagacity is scarcely less 
 wonderful than the daring with which he encountered 
 and overcame so many obstacles. 
 
 fuller's telegram. 
 
 ; 'To General Leadbetter, Commander at Chattanooga. 
 
 " My train was captured this a.m. at Big Shanty, evidently by 
 Federal soldiers in disguise. They are making rapidly for Chat- 
 tanooga, possibly with the idea of burning the railroad bridges 
 in their rear. If I do not capture them in the mean time see that 
 they do not pass Chattanooga. 
 
 "William A. Fuller." 
 
 Two miles above Dalton we stopped and obstructed 
 the track, and once more cut the telegraph wire. The 
 latter was of slight importance, but Wilson and others 
 uiged it upon Andrews, and he did not wish to dis- 
 courage them by telling them that it was now useless. 
 But the removal of a rail might have been of more 
 value by giving us time for burning some of the bridges, 
 which are very numerous on this part of the road. 
 This stop was made in plain sight of a Confederate 
 regiment commanded by a Colonel Glen. The work to 
 be done, however, demanded too much speed for us to 
 apprehend their interference. But before the rail could 
 be more than loosened, the pursuers, who had halted at 
 
112 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Dalton for even a shorter time than we had, were upon 
 us again, and we once more mounted our engine and 
 sped onward. The telegram was sent ahead by this 
 line as well as the other a minute or two before the 
 wire was severed. It created a terrible excitement in 
 Chattanooga, but did us no real damage. Both the 
 pursuing trains were near us when we entered the great 
 tunnel north of Dalton. Our supply of cross-ties was 
 unfortunately exhausted, or they might have proved 
 very serviceable in the darkness. In fearful proximity 
 and with unabated speed the tunnel was passed. Mur- 
 phy declares that he was quite relieved when he saw hy 
 the gleam of light ahead that our engine was passing 
 on, for he had quite made up his mind that we would 
 attack them or drive our engine back upon them in the 
 darkness. But no such plan had entered our thoughts. 
 We would far have preferred a fight in open day. 
 
 We now resolved to play what had been reserved as 
 our last card. Running more slowly to economize fuel, 
 — though a high velocity was still maintained, — we tried 
 to light a fire in our only remaining car. It was al- 
 ready open at both ends, and now as much of the sides 
 and top as could possibly be obtained was also torn off 
 and prepared for fuel. The attempt to light these 
 splinters by matches did not succeed, for the wind 
 caused by the rapid motion blew them out. Fire was 
 then brought back from the engine, but this seemed to 
 smoulder rather than burn, for the rain, which fell in 
 torrents, blew through the unprotected car, and all the 
 boards were soaking wet. Never did kindling a fire 
 seem so difficult. When at length it fairly caught, and 
 began to burn briskly, our dampened hopes beican to 
 brighten in sympathy with it. Might it not be that 
 our persistent struggle against ill -fortune was to win 
 the victory even yet ? Just then a long covered bridge 
 was approached, which it was desirable on every ac- 
 count to burn. All of our party, whom the heat had 
 not already driven forward, were ordered into the nearly 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. 1]3 
 
 empty tender, and the car was uncoupled in the middle 
 of the bridge. We did not leave it hastily, but stopped 
 near the farther end of the bridge to watch the result in 
 breathless anxiety. We had scarcely halted when the 
 black smoke of the nearest pursuer was seen, and he 
 bore down upon us at full speed. We were very loth 
 to leave our position. We could see that the flame was 
 rising higher, but could also see that the enemy's train 
 had a large number of men on board, some of whom 
 had firearms. Oh, what would we not have given for 
 a few of the muskets we had left in camp, to have held 
 our position for even a few minutes, or even one min- 
 ute ! But our situation was too unfavorable to allow 
 more than a momentary thought of resistance. At long 
 range we were virtually unarmed. But we lingered 
 still, until we saw the enemy pushing our blazing car 
 before them over the bridge ; then, being in reach of 
 their firearms, and but poorly protected in our engine 
 and tender, we again sought safety in flight. They 
 pushed the blazing car before them to the first side 
 track, which happened not to be far away, and then 
 left it to burn at its leisure. Thus our forlorn hope 
 expired. 
 
 But not all of the adventurers were willing to accept 
 defeat even yet. A halt was made — the last — for the 
 sake of again obstructing the track, and getting a few 
 sticks of wood that lay near the track to replenish the 
 waning fire of our engine. Some of the number, from 
 the force of habit more than anything else, began to 
 take up a rail. The writer then suggested to Andrews 
 a simple plan, which, at this late hour, still offered a 
 glimmering hope. Could we throw the pursuers off 
 the track, we might burn a few bridges yet, though the 
 most important had been left behind us, and we could 
 no longer hope to run our engine through Chatta- 
 nooga. This attempt would have been more full of 
 peril than any other of the day, with the possible ex- 
 ception of the first seizure of the train ; but its success 
 h 10* 
 
114 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 would have turned the tables ou our enemies over- 
 whelmingly. With sufficient promptness and despera- 
 tion it might have succeeded, while its failure would 
 only have ended a hopeless struggle, exchanging certain 
 and immediate death for whatever faint chances of escape 
 might otherwise remain after the train was abandoned. 
 There had been many hints on the part of the soldiers 
 that we were running away from the enemy too many 
 times, and that it would be better to fight, but this was 
 the first definite proposal. The suggestion was to use 
 our remaining fuel in once more running out of sight 
 of the enemy, then, selecting a place for ambuscade in 
 the low, thick-set bushes that frequently came close to 
 the road, to obstruct the track in our usual manner. 
 When this was done, all of us, except one of the en- 
 gineers, could hide, in such a position as to be abreast 
 of the enemy when he stopped to remove the obstruc- 
 tions. Our own engineer could wait until the pursuers 
 were in sight, and then start off as usual, but slowly, 
 so as to keep their attention fixed upon his train. We 
 had several times noticed how, in the case of an ob- 
 struction, the Confederates had checked their headlong 
 career, sprang to the ground even before the train had 
 stopped fully, and worked furiously at clearing the 
 track. This would be our opportunity for rushing 
 forth. We could shoot down all who were on the 
 engine or the ground, while one of our reserve en- 
 gineers sprang on the engine and threw it back at full 
 speed, jumping off as it started. The result could 
 scarcely have failed to be a fatal collision with the 
 next pursuing train, which was never far behind. 
 Then we would have been free from pursuit, and left 
 only to reckon with the forces ahead. The place and 
 manner of leaving the train could then have been 
 selected at our leisure. We afterwards learned that 
 no preparation had been made to receive us farther 
 south than Boyce's Station, some three miles from 
 Chattanooga. There a strong military force had been 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. H5 
 
 posted, the track torn up, and cannon planted. But 
 we would never have ventured so near Chattanooga 
 after knowing that a message had been sent ahead of 
 us at Dalton. Our original hope had been to get so 
 far ahead of all pursuit as to pass Chattanooga before 
 the pursuers had reached Dalton. Then the junction 
 of roads at the latter point would not have been an 
 embarrassment to us, as will be made clear by a refer- 
 ence to the map. 
 
 Andrews said that the plan, of which a hint was 
 given in a few rapid words, was good and worth trying. 
 But the one great defect in his character as a leader 
 came to the surface in this emergency. This was a dis- 
 position to turn everything carefully over in his mind 
 before deciding. There was no time for reflection now. 
 The Confederate whistle sounded, and our men, with- 
 out waiting for the word of command, so accustomed 
 had they become to this manoeuvre, mounted the en- 
 gine and sped away. Andrews bitterly regretted after- 
 wards that this last expedient was not tried. With this 
 exception, I do not know of anything more that could 
 have been devised, beyond what we actually attempted. 
 
 One object only could now be attained by clinging 
 longer to the train, the speedy abandonment of which 
 was inevitable. Andrews wished to shorten the dis- 
 tance to our own lines as much as possible, so that the 
 slender chance of escaping through the woods and 
 mountains might be increased. It was far easier to 
 travel on the engine than to run or skulk through the 
 country on foot. It was better to continue this mode 
 of locomotion as long as possible, or until we were 
 carried as near Chattanooga as it was prudent to ven- 
 ture. The old lightning rate of running could not be 
 maintained, but we were still moving swiftly. The 
 engine was in a bad state, aud really incapable of much 
 further service. The fuel, too, was gone. For some 
 time we had been reduced to the fragments that had 
 been torn off the cars before they were dropped, and to 
 
116 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 what we bad gathered up along the roadside. Now all 
 that remained of a combustible character was crowded 
 into the fire-box for the last pull. Andrews had 
 always kept with him from the time we first met him 
 at the midnight consultation a mysterious and well- 
 filled pair of saddle-bags. These, of which he had been 
 very careful, and which were supposed to contain im- 
 portant and compromising documents, were now added 
 to the fire. It was a signal, if any were needed, that 
 the time had now come to prepare for the worst. An- 
 drews and three others — Brown, Knight, and Alfred 
 Wilson — were now on the engine, and the remaining 
 sixteen were huddled together on the tender. At no 
 time since the writer had proposed attacking the pur- 
 suing train had he been in a position to urge the at- 
 tempt on Andrews, and it was now too late. But an- 
 other decision was arrived at on the engine against 
 which some of us on the tender would have protested 
 with all our energy had the opportunity been offered. 
 Alfred Wilson, whose opinion was directly opposite to- 
 that of George D. Wilson and the writer, says, — 
 
 " A few minutes before we came to the final halt, Andrews, 
 Brown, Knight, and myself hastily discussed as to the best thing; 
 to be done, and it was concluded that the best course was to sep- 
 arate and scatter in all directions.'' 
 
 This fatal decision arose from two causes. Andrews,, 
 with all his courage, never rightly valued fighting men. 
 He preferred accomplishing his objects by stratagem 
 and in secrecy rather than by open force. It was simply 
 wonderful that in all the exigencies of this expedition 
 no one of his soldiers had been permitted to fire a single 
 shot, or even to draw a revolver upon the enemy. He 
 now considered that when scattered each one, as well as 
 himself, would be able to find concealment, or if cap- 
 tured, to evade detection by false stories. This was a 
 great mistake. The second reason for adopting this 
 fatal course was the belief that the scattering of the 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. H7 
 
 party would also scatter pursuit, and make it less eager 
 in any one direction. Under ordinary circumstances 
 such would have been the result. But the terror and 
 the fierce resentment aroused by the daring character 
 of our enterprise caused the whole country to burst 
 into a blaze of excitement, and the pursuit to be 
 pushed with equal energy for scores of miles in every 
 direction. 
 
 An opposite course would have been far more hope- 
 ful. We were but twelve or fifteen miles from Chat- 
 tanooga. Twenty miles of travel to the northwest 
 would have placed us on the opposite bank of the Ten- 
 nessee River, among the loyal mountaineers of the dis- 
 trict. If we had remained together we could have 
 traversed that broken and wooded country which lay 
 before us as rapidly as any pursuing soldiers. No 
 body of citizens not perfectly organized and armed 
 would have ventured to halt us. Cavalry pursuit away 
 from the main roads was impossible. Besides, one of 
 our party possessed a pocket-compass, and two others, 
 besides Andrews, were somewhat acquainted with the 
 country. The writer is convinced that we might have 
 left the cars in a body, and without even attempting 
 concealment, but only avoiding the public roads, have 
 hurried directly towards MitchePs lines, and within 
 forty-eight hours have been safe in his camp. 
 
 But we can neither wonder at nor blame the mistake 
 made by our leader on this occasion, though it led to 
 months of wretchedness and the death of many of the 
 party. Andrews had met each new emergency witn 
 heroic calmness and unfailing resources; but he was 
 now physically exhausted. He had been engaged in 
 the most intense and harassing labor for many days, 
 being without sleep for the past thirty hours and with- 
 out food for twenty. An error in action was therefore 
 most natural and excusable, even if it disagreed with 
 the course which had been marked out in calmer mo- 
 ments. Wilson says, — 
 
118 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 11 Andrews now told us all that it was ' every man for him- 
 self;' that we must scatter and do the best we could to escape to 
 the Federal lines." 
 
 This, then, was the formal dissolution of the expe- 
 dition by the order of its leader. When we were 
 brought together again under widely different circum- 
 stances, we were simply a collection of soldiers, and 
 while we respected the judgment and advice of An- 
 drews, we no longer considered that we owed him mil- 
 itary obedience. 
 
 As Conductor Fuller now disappears from our story, 
 where he has been so conspicuous, and where his en- 
 ergy, skill, and daring shine in such brilliant colors, a. 
 few words may be appropriately devoted to his work 
 and subsequent history. All the evidence goes to show 
 that the Confederacy had no other available man who 
 could have saved the bridges on the Western and At- 
 lantic Railroad that day. With the exception of him- 
 self and his two companions, who were in a sense sub- 
 ordinate to him, though their services were of verv 
 high value, no other person seemed capable of planning 
 or doing anything whatever. With a conductor of less 
 energy in the place of this man, the probabilities are 
 that we would have had the whole day uninterruptedly 
 for the accomplishment of our task. But for Fuller's 
 daring and perseverance the extra trains would have 
 but added to the number of wrecks along the line as 
 one after another ran upon the places where the track 
 had been torn up ; while the burning of the bridges 
 and the loss of telegraphic communications would have 
 diffused a universal panic. 
 
 The Legislature of Georgia gave Fuller a vote of 
 thanks for his brilliant services, and instructed the gov- 
 ernor to bestow upon him a gold medal ; but, as he 
 laughingly said years after, " Gold was so scarce in the 
 South that it was hard to find enough for a medal. It 
 was therefore postponed for a time, and then came the 
 *inal collapse of the Confederacy, and I got nothing." 
 
A TERRIBLE RAILROAD CHASE. H9 
 
 The Confederate authorities gave him the rank of cap- 
 tain by brevet. Of course, the Federal government 
 could not recognize services rendered against itself of 
 however striking character. No one of the adventur- 
 ers ever expressed any malice towards Conductor Fuller, 
 believing that he simply did what he regarded as his 
 duty. He retained his place as conductor until the 
 whole road passed under the control of General Sher- 
 man, when he enlisted in the army. After seeing con- 
 siderable military service, he was directed by the Con- 
 federate government to take charge of the rolling-stock 
 of the Western and Atlantic Railroad, and keep it out 
 of the hands of the Federals. He removed it to 
 various parts of Georgia and South Carolina as the 
 exigencies of the war and the narrowing territory of 
 the Confederacy required. Finally, when the suprem- 
 acy of the Union was restored, he brought it back to 
 Atlanta and surrendered it to Federal authority. He 
 afterwards resumed his place as conductor on the same 
 road, and remained in that situation until 1875, when 
 he located as a merchant in Atlanta. Here for many 
 years he delighted in talking over this day of wild 
 adventure. 
 
 Of his two companions, Cain continued for more 
 than twenty years as an engineer on the same road, 
 while Murphy built up a prosperous business as a 
 lumberman in Atlanta. 
 
120 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 
 
 Many persons, on hearing an account of this unpar- 
 alleled chase, have suggested one expedient by which 
 they imagine the fugitive Federals might have de- 
 stroyed their enemy and accomplished their own pur- 
 pose. " Why did you not," they say, " reverse your 
 own engine and then jump from it, thus allowing it to 
 knock the pursuing train from the track?" There 
 were good reasons against that course. Such critics 
 might as well ask a man who has ascended half-way 
 up out of a well in a bucket why he does not cut the 
 rope over his head for the sake of crushing somebody 
 at the bottom of the well. That engine was the basis 
 of all our hopes, and we could not think of abandoning 
 it until the direst extremity. At the last moment, 
 however, this attempt to reverse the engine for the 
 purpose of securing a collision was made. This final 
 effort was unavailing. The steam power was so nearly 
 exhausted that the locomotive moved backward very 
 slowly, and accomplished nothing beyond delaying the 
 pursuit on foot for a very few moments. The pursuing 
 train had no difficulty in also reversing and running 
 back a little way until the captured engine came to a 
 dead standstill. Indeed, the hard service of the engine 
 had very nearly destroyed it, even before we thus flung 
 it back at the enemy. A Confederate account says, 
 " Their rapid running and inattention to their engine 
 had melted all the brass from their journals." Wilson 
 is still more graphic, — 
 
 " I could liken her condition to nothing else than the last 
 struggles of a faithful horse, whose heartless master has driven 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 121 
 
 and lashed him until he is gasping for breath, and literally dying 
 in the harness. The powerful machine had carried us safely for 
 more than a hundred miles, some of the time at a rate of speed 
 appalling to contemplate, but she was becoming helpless and use- 
 less in our service. She was shaken loose in every joint, at least 
 she seemed so; the brass on her journals and boxes was melted 
 by the heat; her great steel tires were almost red-hot, while slip 
 smoked and sizzled at every joint. Our race was almost run." 
 
 We are not able to give an account of the time occu- 
 pied by us in the different parts of this long and fearful 
 race. The general impression of a frightfu 1 rate of speed 
 is, however, fully borne out by one fact, which rests on 
 the authority of the engineer of the " Texas/' and I am 
 not sure that this simple statement is not more elo- 
 quent than the most vivid word-pictures of our chase. 
 It is simply that he ran the distance of fifty and one- 
 half miles, made all the stops at stations for explana- 
 tions and reinforcements, as well as to remove obstruc- 
 tions and to switch off the cars we dropped, in the 
 space of sixty-five minutes. This calm and definite 
 statement, w r hich I have never heard disputed, implies 
 an average velocity, when in motion, of not less than a 
 mile per minute ! That such a speed could be attained 
 upon a crooked road, laid with old iron rails, and with 
 the utmost efforts of an enemy in front to obstruct the 
 track, seems little less than miraculous. 
 
 But to return to the direct story. When the final 
 and fatal command to disperse was given, the soldiers, 
 still obedient to orders, jumped off, one by one, and 
 ran, either singly or in small groups, towards the shel- 
 ter of the woods. The greater number fled in a w r estern 
 direction. 
 
 No time was lost by the enemy in organizing a most 
 vigorous pursuit. This would have had little terrors 
 if conducted only by the men on the pursuing trains. 
 Some of these did join in it, but their part was insig- 
 nificant. In an incredibly short space of time the 
 whole country was aroused. The telegraph, no longer 
 
 disabled, flashed alarm in every direction. Horsemen 
 F 11 
 
122 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 scoured at full speed along every highway, shouting 
 their exaggerated stories to every passing traveller and 
 to every house and village. The whole population for 
 scores of miles on every side of Chattanooga seemed to 
 have abandoned every other occupation, and devoted 
 themselves exclusively to the work of hunting the fugi- 
 tive Union soldiers. Each ferry and cross-road was 
 picketed, while armed bands explored the sides of every 
 mountain, and searched out every valley. The people, 
 or at least the great part of those who thus engaged in 
 this terrible man-hunt in the woods, were not novices 
 in the work, and employed the most efficient agencies. 
 The dark institution of slavery rendered the work of 
 hunting down fugitive men very familiar. One of the 
 points in which there is a strange conflict of testimony 
 between Northern and Southern witnesses is in relation 
 to the employment of blood-hounds in the pursuit of 
 Union soldiers, especially when endeavoring to escape 
 from prison. The writer wishes to be perfectly candid 
 in this story, and can imagine one explanation of this 
 discrepancy. Possibly the cause of the dispute is to be 
 found in the use of the word "blood-hound." The 
 pure-blooded Spanish blood-hound, a ferocious and ter- 
 rible beast, is comparatively rare in the Southern States. 
 But hounds, which were used for tracking men, and 
 some of which were very large and fierce, were very 
 common. To a poor man, whether white or black, fly- 
 ing for his life through some lonely wood, who hears, 
 through the darkness of the night, the baying of a pack 
 of hounds on his track, and knows that their fangs will 
 soon be fixed in his flesh, it is little comfort to reflect 
 that the deadly beasts are probably only mongrels and 
 not of the pure Spanish breed ! Hounds were freely 
 employed in searching for the members of our party, 
 and we felt our blood chill with horror as we listened 
 to their baying. Escape by concealment for any con- 
 siderable length of time was scarcely possible. Rapid 
 flight over the roughest part of the country was the 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. ] 2$ 
 
 only alternative, and this was far from hopeful. The 
 adventurers were so widely dispersed that no collective 
 narrative of their perilous wanderings is practicable. 
 Yet many circumstances were common to all the mem- 
 bers of the party. The drenching rain, which contin- 
 ued to fall, added greatly to our discomfort, and was at 
 once a help and a hindrance. It rendered the tracking 
 dogs much less efficient, and frequently threw them off 
 the track altogether, but prevented us from travelling 
 by the sun and stars ; and, as we had no other guide, the 
 flight of the greater number became a mere aimless wan- 
 dering through the woods, — sometimes even in a circle. 
 The endurance of indescribable suffering from cold, 
 hunger, and fatigue was also an experience common to 
 all who eluded capture for any considerable period. 
 The expectation of a violent death immediately on 
 capture and detection was shared by all. The only 
 mode of giving an adequate impression of this painful 
 but deeply interesting part of the history will be to 
 narrate with some detail the adventures of a few of 
 those groups, which will best serve as specimens of all. 
 I offer my own experience first ; not that it is more in- 
 teresting than others, — indeed, it is greatly surpassed in 
 number and variety of adventures by the narratives of 
 Dorsey and Wilson, — but because it is easier to tell my 
 own experience, — that strange weird period of hunting 
 in the woods and mountains of Georgia, in which I 
 was the game, — a period which stands out alone in 
 memory separated from all former and after life ! 
 
 On leaving the train the writer was alone, and for a 
 moment his heart sank within him. No one happened 
 to strike off in the same direction, and, although some 
 of the fugitives might have been overtaken or fallen ip 
 with, yet the wish was strong to accompany the same 
 band who had been associated on the southward journey. 
 In looking for these the opportunity of going with any 
 of the other adventurers was lost. Indeed, I hardly 
 wished to have any other companions, as the remainder 
 
124 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 were comparative strangers, and their trustworthiness 
 had not yet been thoroughly approved. At that time 
 I knew nothing of the locality in which I found my- 
 self, — whether it was fifteen or fifty miles from Chatta- 
 nooga, — nor had I the most indefinite idea of the char- 
 acter of the country. I only knew that our army and 
 territory lay north or northwest ; but as the sun did 
 not shine, I had no means of determining the points of 
 the compass. 
 
 The train was still moving when I jumped off, — fast 
 enough to make me perform several inconvenient gyra- 
 tions on reaching the ground. As soon as I could 
 stand firmly I looked about for a moment, and endeav- 
 ored to grasp the situation and determine what to do. 
 I had not anticipated that the train would be abandoned 
 and we dispersed in the woods ; but, on the contrary, 
 had relied on being under the orders of a leader until 
 we should succeed or perish. Now I was thrown en- 
 tirely on my own resources, without even a conscious 
 reliance on the protection of God. I cannot recall even 
 breathing a prayer in this trying moment. Yet, in a 
 dim way, I did feel that I was not utterly forsaken. 
 One glance round the horizon — a swift balancing of 
 the few elements of the problem that were within my 
 reach — and then hurried flight was all time permitted. 
 Most of my comrades were in advance of me. Three 
 of them had taken the eastern side of the railroad, the 
 remainder the opposite side. In my judgment the latter 
 was best, and, following their example, I soon reached 
 the cover of stunted pines that grew near. Feeling the 
 necessity of getting some start before the enemy could 
 arrange for pursuit, I continued to run at right angles 
 away from the railroad. A little brook that ran par- 
 allel to the railroad was soon passed, and I pressed on 
 up the long, steep, and open slope of a hill on its oppo- 
 site side. Running up-hill was too severe to be main- 
 tained long, and I was obliged to drop into a walk in 
 plain view of the enemy. Each step was fatiguing, 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. J 25 
 
 and my limbs seemed made of lead. This greatly aug- 
 mented my fears. It was more like trying to run 
 away from danger in a nightmare than auy waking 
 sensation. I saw three of my comrades not far away 
 on the left, and, urging my failing strength to the 
 utmost, tried to overtake them, but in vain. This was 
 a great disappointment, for I dreaded solitude above all 
 things, and wanted the support of sympathy. I knew 
 that pursuit would be rapid and instantaneous, and 
 could hear shouts from the pursuing trains, which had 
 now reached the spot and were discharging a host of 
 enemies. Every breeze that sighed through the branches 
 of the naked forest sounded like the trampling of cav- 
 alry. 
 
 The country was rough and uneven. On the bottoms 
 and by the streams, as well as on the steep mountains, 
 were a few pines ; but on the slopes and tops of the 
 hills, which here are a low continuation of the Cumber- 
 land range, the timber is mostly of oak and other 
 varieties, which were not then in foliage. This was a 
 great disadvantage, because it left no hiding-place and 
 exposed us to the watchful eyes of our enemies. 
 
 As I struggled up the hill-side the sense of faintness 
 
 and exhaustion passed away, and with strength hope came 
 
 again. Nothing in this chase seems stranger than the 
 
 manner in which my strength ebbed and flowed. When 
 
 seemingly utterly powerless, without rest, food, or sleep, 
 
 vigor came back again on more than one occasion, and 
 
 the new T supply would last for hours. My more rapid 
 
 pace soon carried me over the hill-top and down to the 
 
 bend of a little river, which I subsequently learned 
 
 was the Chickamauga, — the witness, afterwards, of one 
 
 of the most desperate battles of the war. It was then 
 
 swollen by the continuous rains, and for some time 1 
 
 searched along its banks in vain for a crossing-place. 
 
 Believing that death was behind, I finally committed 
 
 myself to. the turbulent stream, and succeeded in getting 
 
 over, but only to find that before me the bank rose in 
 
 11* 
 
126 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 an almost perpendicular precipice of shelving rock not 
 less than one hundred feet in height. I dared not re- 
 cross the stream, for I knew the enemy could not be 
 far behind, and I therefore clambered up the precipice. 
 Several times, when near the top, did I feel my grasp 
 giving way, but as often some bush or projecting rock 
 afforded me the means of saving myself. While thus 
 swinging up the bare rocks, I could not help thinking 
 what a fine mark I presented if any of the enemy, with 
 guns, should happen to arrive on the opposite bank ! 
 At last, after imminent danger, I reached the top, again 
 utterly exhausted, pulled myself out of sight, and sank 
 down to breathe for a while. 
 
 I had been without breakfast or dinner, and had 
 spent not only that day but many preceding ones in 
 the most fatiguing exertion. Enemies were on every 
 side. There was no guide even in the direction of home, 
 for the sun still lingered behind an impenetrable veil. 
 
 While musing on this unenviable situation in which 
 I found myself, a dreadful sound brought me to my 
 feet and sent the blood leaping wildly through my 
 veins. It was the distant baying of a blood-hound ! A 
 moment's reflection would have made it certain that in 
 the existing state of Southern customs dogs would have 
 been used to track fugitives in the woods. It was a 
 mere every-day incident of slavery. But this consider- 
 ation brought no comfort. Alone in the woods of 
 Georgia, the horror of being hunted with dogs was in- 
 describable. 
 
 A few moments' listening confirmed my worst fears. 
 They were after us with their blood-hounds ! not one 
 pack alone, but all in the country, as the widening 
 •circle from which their dismal baying echoed revealed 
 but too plainly. There was no longer safety in idle- 
 ness. Yet the fearful sound was not without use in 
 supplying a guide to flight, and I am now convinced 
 that throughout the whole chase the dogs were of more 
 real service to us than to our pursuers, as they rendered 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. [27 
 
 a surprise less probable. But noue the less did they 
 add to the repulsiveness and terror of our position. 
 
 Away across the hills and streams I sped, I know 
 not how far, — I only know that the noise of the dogs 
 grew fainter as the evening wore on. I had distanced 
 them and began to breathe more freely. I even in- 
 dulged the hope of being able to work my way ulti- 
 mately to the Federal lines. Had the clouds per- 
 mitted travelling by the sun and stars, this hope might 
 have been realized. 
 
 As I descended the long slope of a wooded hill into 
 a solitary valley, I saw a rude hut, with a man working 
 in a cultivated patch beside it. Believing that he could 
 not yet have heard of our adventure, I determined to risk 
 something in order to get information. I also felt sure 
 that one man could not arrest me. Approaching, I asked 
 the road to Chattanooga, and the distance. He pointed 
 the way, and told me that it was eight miles. Adding 
 this information to the general knowledge I had of the 
 geography of that district, it gave me some notion of my 
 whereabouts. I did not wish to get any nearer the 
 rebel town, as I rightly judged that in its vicinity pur- 
 suit would be most vigorous, but I continued my 
 journey in that direction until out of sight, when 1 
 climbed the hill at right angles to my former course. 
 This course was maintained for some hours, when an 
 incident occurred which would have been amusing but 
 for the fearful perils environing me. 
 
 I had often heard of lost persons travelling in a circle, 
 but never gave much credit to such stories. Now, I 
 had the proof of their credibility. I believe philoso- 
 phers explain the phenomenon by saying that one side 
 of the body has a little more vigor than the other, and 
 that when we have no guide to direct us, the stronger 
 side (usually the right), by its tendency to go ahead of 
 the other side, gradually turns us in the opposite direc- 
 tion. In other words, the right foot outwalks the left, 
 and thus, like a carriage-horse swifter than its mate in 
 
128 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 a driverless team, can only describe perpetual circles 
 until the will-power again takes hold of the reins. But 
 at this time I had never heard of such theories, and the 
 following experiences presented themselves to my mind 
 as an inexplicable and terrifying fatality. 
 
 I had crossed a road and left it for something like an 
 hour, during which time I walked very fast, when to 
 ray surprise I came to the same place again. I was 
 considerably annoyed thus to lose my labor, but struck 
 over the hill in what I now supposed to be the right 
 direction. Judge of my astonishment and alarm when, 
 after an hour or more of hard walking, I found myself 
 again at precisely the same spot ! So much time had 
 been lost that the barking of the dogs now sounded 
 very loud and near. I was perplexed beyond meas- 
 ure and seemingly hopelessly entangled. A few steps 
 brought me to a stream that was recognized as having 
 been crossed hours before. In sheer desperation I 
 took the first road that appeared, and followed it almost 
 regardless of where it led or who was met. Previously 
 I had kept away from the roads, and sought the most 
 secluded route. But the risk of meeting any tangible 
 enemy was preferable to being the sport of that bewil- 
 dering chance which seemed to be drifting me around 
 in a remorseless whirlpool. 
 
 Thus I pressed forward till the rainy, dreary even- 
 ing deepened into night. I recall no thoughts of 
 prayer, no feeling of dependence upon an infinite 
 mercy beyond the clouds. All the memory I have of 
 mental processes is that there was a fixed, iron-like re- 
 solve to use every power of body and mind to escape, 
 and in perfect calmness to await the result. I intended 
 to do all in my own power for safety and then perish, 
 if it must be so, with the feeling that I was not re- 
 sponsible for it. The reader, a little farther on, will 
 find that this feeling was so powerful that I did not 
 shrink from any sacrifice of truth, or even from enlist- 
 ment in the rebel arm v. For me the stake was life or 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. J 29 
 
 death. I would win if my power could by any means 
 be stretched so far; if not, I would pay the forfeit 
 when I must. 
 
 It was not perfectly dark, for there was a moon be- 
 yond the clouds, and, as I heard a wagon approaching, 
 I stepped to the bushes beside the road and accosted 
 the driver. His voice assured me that he was a negro, 
 and I made bold to get from him as much information 
 as possible. Words cannot describe the flood of dis- 
 appointment, vexation, and anger that swept over my 
 bosom when I found I was within four miles of Chat- 
 tanooga, — that town which I regarded as the lion's 
 mouth ! So far as I had a plan it was to leave this 
 place far to my right, and strike the Tennessee River 
 twelve or fifteen miles farther down-stream. I hoped 
 to do this, and to cross over the river by floating on 
 some dry branch of a tree before morning. If the stars 
 came out, so that I could travel a straight course, this 
 hope was not unreasonable. But near Chattanooga, 
 however, all the river would be watched and the coun- 
 try around strictly patrolled. But if discouraged by 
 the manner in which I seemed attracted towards the 
 rebel headquarters, despair was useless ; so, learning the 
 direction both of Ringgold and Chattanooga from the 
 negro, who, like all of his color, was ready to do any- 
 thing for fugitives, with whom he had a fellow-feeling 
 (though I did not make my true character known to 
 him), I pressed forward through the rain and mud. 
 As the road did not lead in the right direction, I again 
 travelled in the fields and woods. 
 
 For some time I felt sure of having the right course 
 in my head and hurried on. But when I had crossed 
 a large field of deadened timber I was completely lost. 
 Soon, however, I reached a road which seemed to lead 
 right, and followed it with renewed vigor for several 
 miles. At length I met three men on horseback. It 
 was too dark to tell whether they were negroes or white 
 men, but I ventured to ask them, — 
 
130 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " How far is it to Chattanooga ?" 
 
 "Three miles!" 
 
 " Is this the right road ?" 
 
 " Yes, sah, right ahead/' 
 
 These, probably, were men sent out to search for the 
 railroad adventurers, and they did not try to arrest me 
 because I had accosted them so boldly and was going 
 directly towards Chattanooga. 
 
 But it was evident I was again on the wrong road. 
 Indeed, so hopelessly bewildered was I that it seemed 
 impossible to travel any but the wrong road. As soon 
 as the horsemen were out of sight I turned and fol- 
 lowed them three or four miles, until I came to a large 
 road running at right angles with my own, which ter- 
 minated where it entered the other. I deliberated some 
 time as to which end of this new road I should take. 
 These mountain-roads are fearfully crooked, and the 
 one I had been travelling bent too often to give me the 
 direction even of the dreaded Chattanooga. 
 
 Many a time had I wished for a sight of the moon 
 and stars. Long before the clash of arms had been 
 heard in our peaceful land, before the thunder of battle 
 had filled- a nation with weeping, astronomy had been 
 my favorite study, and I had often longed foi the part- 
 ing of the clouds, that, with my telescope, I might gaze 
 on the wonders of the world above. But never did I 
 bend so anxious an eye to the darkened firmament as 
 in my solitary wanderings over the Georgia hills that 
 memorable night. All in vain ! No North Star ap- 
 peared to point with beam of hope to the land of the 
 free! 
 
 But at length I made choice, and, as usual, on this 
 night chose wrong. After I had gone a long distance 
 the moon did for a moment break through a rift in the 
 clouds and pour her welcome light down on the dark 
 forest through which I was passing. That one glance 
 was enough to show me that I was heading towards the 
 railroad I had left in the morning. Even then the 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 131 
 
 light was a compensation for all the disappointment, 
 but in a moment it withdrew and the rain fell again in 
 torrents. Wearily I turned and retraced my tedious 
 steps, hoping in vain for another glimpse of the moon. 
 
 One of my feet had been injured by an accident three 
 months before, and now pained me exceedingly. Still 
 I dragged myself along. My nerves had become ex- 
 hausted bv the lon^-continued tension thev had en- 
 dured, and now played me many fantastic tricks, which 
 became more marked as the night wore on. I passed 
 the place where the wrong choice of roads had been 
 made, and still toiled ahead. 
 
 I was thinly clad, and as the wind, which had risen 
 and was now blowing quite hard, drove the falling 
 showers against me, my teeth chattered with the 
 piercing cold. I passed many houses, and feared the 
 barking of the dogs might betray me to watchers 
 within ; but my fears were groundless. The storm, 
 which was then howling fearfully through the trees, 
 served to keep most of those who would have sought 
 my life within-doors. For a time I seemed to have 
 the lonely, fearful, stormy night to myself. 
 
 At last all thoughts gave way to the imperative need 
 of rest. I reeled to a large log not far from the road, 
 on the edge of a small patch of woodland, and crawl- 
 ing close under the side of it, not so much for shelter 
 from the driving rain as for concealment from my worse 
 dreaded human foes, I slept in peace. 
 
 Up to the time of this profound and dreamless sleep 
 the incidents of that terrible night are graven on my 
 memory as with a pen of fire. But after waking I 
 found a marvellous change, and the next experience of 
 the night floats in memory with all the voluptuous 
 splendor of an opium -dream. Had I been at all dis- 
 posed to superstition, I would have had room enough 
 to indulge it. A rational view of religion would have 
 enabled me to recognize the manner in which a Mer- 
 ciful Father interposed to relieve my sufferings, — an 
 
132 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 interposition not less real or effective because, as I 
 still believe, purely natural. But at that time I was 
 indisposed to admit other than the material explanation. 
 The want of sleep, fatigue, dampness, hunger, and in- 
 tense mental tension were enough to cause a mild species 
 of delirium. But the character of this was surely ex- 
 traordinary, affecting as it did the senses and imagina- 
 tion only, and leaving the reason and will altogether 
 untouched. I was as rational — as able to plan, and far 
 more able to execute, during this singular psychological 
 experience than before. But let me narrate facts and 
 leave the reader to his own explanations. 
 
 I cannot tell how long sleep continued, but I wakened 
 perfectly in an instant, and with a full realization of 
 my position. But, in addition to this, I seemed to hear 
 some person whisper, as plainly as ever I heard a human 
 voice, — 
 
 " Shoot him ! shoot him ! Let us shoot him before 
 he wakes !" 
 
 My first impression was that a party of rebels had 
 discovered me in my hiding-place, and that my last 
 moment on earth had come. But the next thought 
 brought a new suspicion, and I cautiously opened my 
 eyes to see if my senses were really playing me false. 
 
 Directly before me stood a bush or small tree. The 
 first glance showed me a tree and nothing more. The 
 next glance revealed a score of angels, all clad in lovely 
 robes, that melted into the softest outlines, their heads 
 nodding under feathery plumes above all beauty, and 
 their wings, bordered with violet and pearl, slowly 
 waving with indescribable grace. As my eye wan- 
 dered farther, the whole grove was transformed into a 
 radiant paradise, in which moved celestial beings of 
 every order, all instinct with life and blushing with 
 love. There were rose bowers, and ladies fairer than 
 mortal, and little cherubs floating around on cloudlets- 
 of amber and gold. Indeed, all that I had ever seen,. 
 read, or imagined of beauty was comprised in that one 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. J 33 
 
 gorgeous vision. It was very singular, and of this I 
 can give no explanation, except the will of God, that no 
 hideous, terrible, or even ugly image was seen. That 
 there were not visions of blood-hounds, chains, and 
 scaffolds, or other forms of terror, seemingly more ap- 
 propriate to my condition, is unaccountable, so far as I 
 know, on any theory save that of heavenly grace, and, 
 personally, I wish for no better. It was also singular 
 that though the brain and eye were thus impressed with 
 ideal existences, I was perfectly calm and self-possessed, 
 knowing the whole thing to be but a pleasing illusion. 
 I had no fear of these figures of the brain, but, on the 
 contrary, found them excellent company. They did 
 not always personate the same characters. Occasion- 
 ally they would change to the old feudal knights, ar- 
 rayed in glittering armor. The finest landscapes would 
 start up from the cold wet hills around, like mirages in 
 the desert. Panoramas of the most vivid action passed 
 before me, and the ear joined the eye in the work of 
 pleasing illusion, for even language was not denied to 
 my visitants, whose voices were inexpressibly melodi- 
 ous, and even very sweet music was occasionally heard. 
 
 Not less remarkable was the renewal of strength I 
 felt. To walk or run was no longer a burden. To say 
 that I was perfectly refreshed is altogether an inad- 
 equate expression. I seemed to have supernatural 
 strength, and to be incapable of any weariness or dis- 
 agreeable sensation whatever. Even the merciless pelt- 
 ing of the cold rain was pleasant and delightful ! I 
 was perfectly easy and peaceful in mind, feeling no fear, 
 though perfectly conscious of my real situation and peril, 
 and retaining the full force of the resolve to use every 
 exertion for escape. 
 
 While night and darkness were thus changed into 
 
 visions of beauty and joy around me, another faculty 
 
 penetrated beyond these highly-colored illusions, and 
 
 showed me, though in faint lines, the true face of the 
 
 ^country and of events. Yet I had no hesitation in 
 
 12 
 
134 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 controlling my conduct with respect to the faint rather* 
 than the bright pictures, and was only once, for a few 
 minutes, deceived, and then by supposing the real to be 
 fictitious. The error very nearly involved me in a 
 serious difficulty. At a cross-road, I saw from a dis- 
 tance what I supposed, at first, to be a group of my 
 spectral friends standing around a fire, the ruddy blaze 
 of which rendered them clearly visible. They were 
 not so beautiful as former figures, but I advanced un- 
 suspectingly towards them, and would probably have 
 continued until too late for retreat had not my progress 
 been arrested by a sound of all others least romantic, — 
 the squealing of a pig ! The men around the fire had 
 caught the animal, and were killing it preparatory to 
 roasting it in the fire ! This immediately drove away 
 the seraphs and the angels ! I listened, and became 
 convinced that they were a picket sent out to watch for 
 just such travellers as myself. Some dogs were with 
 them, but these were, fortunately, too much absorbed 
 in the dying agonies of the pig to give attention to me.. 
 
 I crawled cautiously away, and made a long circuit 
 through the fields. A dog from a farm-house made 
 himself exceedingly annoying by following and bark- 
 ing after me. I did not apprehend danger from him, 
 for I had managed to keep my trusty revolver dry all 
 this time, but I feared he would attract the attention of 
 the picket. 
 
 When he left me I returned to the road, but came 
 to three horses hobbled down, which, no doubt, belonged 
 to the picket behind, and had to make another circuit 
 to avoid driving them before me. Then I pressed on, 
 hoping that some good chance, if not providence, might 
 bring me to the steep banks of the Tennessee. Yet I 
 was not sanguine, for the country was more open and 
 level than I expected to find in the vicinity of the 
 river. Very many miles — possibly a score, or even 
 more, for my pace was rapid — were passed in this 
 manner, but at last my visions began to fade. I was- 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 135 
 
 sorry to see them go, for they seemed like a good omen, 
 and they had been cheerful companions. When the 
 last form of beauty disappeared the chill horror of my 
 situation froze into my veins ; my strange strength also 
 passed gradually away. I would find myself stagger- 
 ing along almost asleep, — would wander a short distance 
 from the road to a secluded spot, throw myself on the 
 flooded ground, and be instantly asleep, — then, in a few 
 moments, awaken, almost drowned by the pitiless rain, 
 and so weary, cold, and benumbed that I could scarcely 
 rise and plod onward. 
 
 Thus the latter part of that dreary night wore on. 
 It seemed an age of horror, and places a shuddering 
 gulf between my present life and the past. At length 
 the cold gray dawn of a clouded morning broke through 
 the weeping sky. Day brought no relief. I had not 
 yet any guide, and had not stumbled on the Tennessee. 
 I feared to make inquiries. Every one I saw seemed 
 a foe. Still, I did not avoid them, or leave the road 
 for any great distance. Slowly a new plan formed 
 itself in my mind, for, if the rain and clouds continued, 
 I despaired of working my way to our lines. What 
 this plan was will appear in due time. It will be 
 enough to say here that I did not now think a capture 
 would be fatal, if once far enough away from the place 
 where the train was abandoned, to plausibly deny all 
 knowledge of that raid. I hardly thought it possible 
 that I could endure another day and night alone in 
 the woods. To prepare for all emergencies, I carefully 
 washed all traces of that terrible night from my clothes. 
 The wet would not matter, for the falling rain accounted 
 perfectly for that. 
 
 It was Sabbath morning, but it came not to me with 
 the blessed calmness and peace that accompany it in my 
 own far-off Ohio. I realized how sweet those Sabbath 
 hours and Sabbath privileges had been, which I had 
 never valued before. I saw the people going to church, 
 and longed to go with them. Of course this was impossi- 
 
136 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ble, but with the thought came more of a feeling of 
 worship and of desire for God's protection than I had 
 ever known before. In that hour I believe His blessed 
 Spirit was calling me; but I soon turned my mind in 
 another direction, preferring to plan for my own de- 
 liverance, and to arrange the stories I would tell if ar- 
 rested, or if I ventured to any house for food, as would 
 soon be necessary. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN THE ENEMY'S POWER. 
 
 But I will dwell no longer on the miseries of this 
 dreary morning. Its hours went tediously by, marked 
 by no special incidents till about noon. Just beyond 
 Lafayette, Georgia, I was observed by some one on the 
 watch for strangers. A party of pursuit numbering 
 twenty or thirty was at once organized. I knew noth- 
 ing of my danger till they were within fifty yards, 
 when I heard them calling for me to stop. 
 
 A single glance showed my helplessness. I laid my 
 hand instinctively" on my revolver, but knew that fight 
 was useless. Neither was flight possible. The country 
 was open and I was too weary to run, even if some of 
 the party had not been mounted and others armed with 
 rifles and shot-guns. It was time to see what could be 
 made of my plans carefully contrived for just such an 
 emergency. Therefore, making a virtue of necessity, I 
 turned round and demanded what they wanted, though 
 I knew only too well. They said courteously enough 
 that they wanted to talk with me awhile. Soon they 
 came up, and a brisk little man who had the epaulets 
 of a lieutenant, but whom they called " Major," began 
 to ask questions. He was very bland, and apologized 
 
IN THE EXE MI'S POWER. 137 
 
 profusely for interrupting me, but said if I was a patri- 
 otic man (as he had no doubt I was) I would willingly 
 undergo a slight inconvenience for the good of the 
 Confederacy. I endeavored to emulate his politeness, 
 begging him to proceed in the performance of his duty, 
 and assuring him that he would find nothing wrong. 
 He searched me very closely for papers, and examined 
 my money and pistol, but found no ground for sus- 
 picion. 
 
 He next asked me who I was, where I came from, 
 and where I was going. I expected all these questions 
 in about that order, and answered them categorically. 
 I told him I was a citizen of Kentucky, of Fleming 
 County, who had become disgusted with the tyranny 
 of the Lincoln government, and was ready to fight 
 against it ; that I came to Chattanooga, but would not 
 enlist there because most of the troops were conscripts, 
 and the few volunteers very poorly armed. I told him 
 where I had lodged in Chattanooga, and many things 
 about the troops there, using all the knowledge I had 
 acquired of that character while riding on the cars to 
 Marietta the preceding Friday. I had also heard many 
 words of praise spoken of the First Georgia Regiment, 
 and now told the major that I wished to join that 
 noble organization. This flattered his State pride, but 
 he asked me one question more, — why I had not gone 
 directly to Corinth, where the First Georgia was, with- 
 out coming to Lafayette, which was far out of the way. 
 The question conveyed much information, as I did not 
 before know that I was near Lafayette, or out of the 
 road from Chattanooga to Corinth. I answered as well 
 as I could by alleging that General Mitchel was said to 
 be at Huntsville, and that I was making a circuit around 
 to avoid the danger of falling into his hands. 
 
 This seemed to be perfectly satisfactory to the little 
 man, and, turning to the attentive crowd, he said, — 
 
 " We may as well let this fellow go on, for he seems 
 to be all right." 
 
 12* 
 
138 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 I was greatly rejoiced at these words, and cast about 
 in my own mind to see if I could not gain something 
 more before passing on the way. But my joy was 
 premature. A dark-complexioned man on horseback, 
 with his hat drawn over his brows, looked slowly up 
 and drawled out, — 
 
 " Well, y-e-s ! Perhaps we'd as well take him back 
 to town, and if it's all right, maybe we can help him 
 on to Corinth." 
 
 This was rather more help than I wanted, but there 
 was no help for it. Besides, I reasoned that if I could 
 keep on good term? with this party, I could get infor- 
 mation and aid that would be invaluable towards my 
 final escape. Nothing could really suit me much better 
 than actually to be forwarded to Corinth and enlisted 
 in the First Georgia. I knew the ordeal of question- 
 ing before that course was determined on would be very 
 trying, but did not despair. If I could only have had 
 some food and a few hours' rest ! 
 
 They conducted me to the largest hotel of the place, 
 where I was received with much ceremony, but they 
 neglected to order dinner. I could have had drink 
 enough, but was too prudent to touch it, even if I had 
 not always been a teetotaler. Soon all the lawyers 
 came in, — Lafayette is a county-seat, — and they all had 
 liberty to question me. For four mortal hours, as I 
 could see by a clock in the room, I conversed with 
 them and answered questions. We talked of every- 
 thing, and their questions grew more and more pointed. 
 I answered as well as I could, and never let an oppor- 
 tunity pass to put in a question in turn, for it was much 
 easier and less perilous to ask than answer. When I 
 told them I was from Kentucky, they wished to know 
 the county. I told them Fleming. They asked after 
 the county-seat. This also I could give. But when 
 they asked after adjoining counties I was sorely per- 
 plexed. One of them said it was singular a man could 
 not bound his own county. I asked how many of them 
 
IN THE ENEMY'S POWER. 139 
 
 could bound the county we then were in. This ques- 
 tion had a double purpose, — to gain time and informa- 
 tion. They mentioned several and fell into a dispute, 
 to settle which a map had to be produced. I got a 
 look at it also, — a mere glance, for it was soon out of 
 reach of my eager gaze ; but I had seen much. Then 
 they requested a narrative of my journey all the way 
 from Kentucky. This I gave very easily and in great 
 detail as long as it was on ground not accessible to my 
 inquisitors. I told the truth as far as that would not 
 be compromising, and then pieced out with inventions. 
 The time I had spent on the train and in the woods 
 were hardest to arrange for. I had to invent families 
 with whom I had lodged ; tell the number of children 
 and servants at each place, with all kinds of particulars. 
 I knew not how many of my auditors might be familiar 
 with the country I was thus fancifully populating, and 
 was careful not to know too much. I plead forgetful- 
 ness as often as that plea was plausible, but it would not 
 do to use it too often. I might have refused to answer 
 any question, but this would have been a tacit admis- 
 sion of some kind of guilt, — at least as good as a mob 
 would have required. I might safely use any retorts 
 and sharpness in conversation, — and I did talk with 
 perfect freedom, — but I had the feeling that silence 
 would have brought me in danger of the lash and the 
 rope. Can the reader conceive of any situation more 
 critical and perilous : starving and almost fainting from 
 weariness, in the midst of a growing tavern crowd, 
 questioned by acute lawyers, and obliged to keep every 
 faculty on the alert, feeling that an incautious answer 
 would probably lead to an instant and frightful death, 
 and compelled under such pressure to tell falsehood 
 after falsehood in unending succession ? 
 
 But I had au increasing hope if my endurance con- 
 tinued to the end. At supper-time I meant to boldly 
 demand food, and I felt sure of getting it. Besides, 
 although they w r ere clear that I was a suspicious char- 
 
[40 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 icter, they did not seem in any way to connect me with 
 ;he great railroad expedition, — the only identification I 
 ? eared. The very fact that 1 was so far away from the 
 joint where the train was abandoned was in my favor. 
 temporary confinement, enlistment in the army, any- 
 thing they were likely to do was without terror as long 
 is I was not connected with the daring adventure 
 which had culminated the day before. They were 
 somewhat perplexed by the assurance with which I 
 >poke, and held numerous private consultations, only 
 igreeing that the case needed further investigation. 
 
 Matters were in this position when a man, riding a 
 lorse covered with foam, dashed up to the door. He 
 :ame from Ringgold and brought the news — of deeper 
 nterest to me than to any one else — that several of the 
 ^ridge-burners had been taken near the place- where 
 ;hey abandoned the train. When first apprehended 
 hey claimed to be citizens of Kentucky, from 
 Fleming County; but on finding that this did not 
 procure their release, they confessed being Ohio soldiers, 
 >ent by General Mitchel to burn the bridges on the 
 jreorgia State Railroad ! 
 
 I have no reason to believe that any of those who 
 were captured described their companions, or gave any 
 n formati on leading intentionally to their discovery, 
 rhis was not needed. The unfortunate telling of the 
 same fictitious story and the subsequent revelation of 
 :heir true character on the part of some of the number 
 who were captured close to the abandoned train, un- 
 nasked the others as well. After the first captures,* 
 which were made Saturday afternoon, whenever a fugi- 
 tive was arrested who hailed from Fleming County, 
 Kentucky, and was not able to prove his innocence, he 
 was at once set down as a member of the railroad 
 >arty. 
 
 The message from Ringgold ended all uncertainty in 
 ny own case. I was at once conducted, under strict 
 yuard, to the county jail. 
 
1\ THE ENEMY'S POWER. 14] 
 
 The little major was my escort. He took advantage 
 of his position to purloin my money, and then turned 
 me over to the county jailer. That personage took my 
 penknife and other little articles of property, then led 
 me up-stairs, unfastened a door to the right* which led 
 into a large room with barred windows, and having a 
 cage, made of crossing iron bars, in the centre. He 
 unlocked the small but heavy iron door of the cage 
 and bade me enter. For the first time in my life I was 
 to be locked in jail ! My reflections could not have 
 been more gloomy if the celebrated inscription had 
 been written over the cage that Dante placed above the 
 gate of hell, " All hope abandon, ye who enter here." 
 
 There did seem absolutely no hope for me. I was 
 there as a criminal, and I knew that life was held too 
 cheaply in the South for my captors to be fastidious 
 about disposing of an unknown stranger. I had heard 
 the message from Ringgold, and at once comprehended 
 its bearing against me. Nothing save a confession of 
 my true character as a soldier and my real business in 
 the South would be credited. The probability was that 
 even this would only make my doom the more speed v. 
 
 In that hour my most distressing thoughts were of 
 the friends at home, and especially of my mother, — 
 thinking what would be their sorrow when they heard 
 of my ignominious fate, — if, indeed, they ever heard, 
 for I had given " John Thompson" instead of my own 
 name. That all my young hopes and ambitions, my 
 fond dreams of being useful, should perish, as I then 
 had no doubt they would, on a Southern scaffold, 
 seemed utterly unbearable. But one moment only did 
 these thoughts sweep over me ; the next they were re- 
 jected by a strong effort of the will as worse than use- 
 less, and were followed by a sense of unutterable 
 relief, for I could now rest. I had found a refuge even 
 in prison, and needed no longer to keep every failing 
 faculty at the utmost tension. The sweetness of rest 
 for the moment overcame every other feeling save 
 
142 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 hunger, and that, too, was soon satisfied. The jailer 
 brought some coarse food, which was devoured with 
 exceeding relish. There was another prisoner in the 
 same cage, — probably a detective, put in for the pur- 
 pose of gaining my confidence and leading me to a con- 
 fession. His first step was to plead ill health as an 
 excuse for not eating his share of the prison food. I 
 excused him, and ate his allowance as well as my own 
 without difficulty. 
 
 He then wished to talk, and asked me some ques- 
 tions, but I was in no mood for further conversation. 
 Being cold I borrowed his prison blankets, of which he 
 had a plentiful supply, and, wrapping myself up in 
 them, soon sank into a deep sleep — profound and 
 dreamless — such as only extreme fatigue can produce. 
 The quaint advice contained in the last words of my 
 companion, however, lingered in my memory. Said 
 he, — 
 
 " If you are innocent of the charge they make against 
 you, there is no hope for you. You are much worse 
 off than if you are guilty, for they will hang you on 
 suspicion, while, if you are a soldier, you can tell what 
 regiment you belong to, and claim protection as a 
 United States prisoner of war." 
 
 My sleep lasted until long after dawn of the next 
 morning. This repose, with the breakfast which fol- 
 lowed, completely restored my strength, and with the 
 elasticity of youth I began to revolve my situation and 
 plan for the future. I was not long left in loneliness. 
 The people of the village and surrounding country 
 came in throngs to see a man who was supposed to be- 
 long to the daring band of engine thieves, — one of the 
 most common names by which our party was recog- 
 nized during our imprisonment. They were very free 
 in their criticisms of my appea ranee, and some were very 
 insulting in their remarks. But I would not allow my- 
 self to be drawn into conversation with them, for I had 
 a momentous question to decide in my own mind. 
 
IN THE ENEMY'S POWER. J 43 
 
 The more I thought of the advice of my fellow- 
 prisoner the more weighty did it appear. I did not 
 value it because it was his opinion, but because it 
 seemed reasonable. I also longed to assume my true 
 name once more and my position as a soldier. The 
 thought of perishing obscurely and in disguise was 
 most revolting. Besides, I felt that a soldier had more 
 chances of life than a suspected wanderer. Our gov- 
 ernment might put forth energetic efforts to save those 
 who were in such deadly peril. I remembered, with 
 increasing hope, that the Federals, at this very time, 
 held a number of rebel prisoners in Missouri, who had 
 been captured while disguised in Federal uniform in- 
 side of our lines, engaged in an attempt very similar to 
 our own, — the burning of some railroad bridges. Why 
 might not these be held as hostages to assure our safety, 
 or even exchanged for us ? To entitle me to any help 
 from our government I must be William Pittenger, of 
 the Second Ohio Volunteer Infantry, and not John 
 Thompson, of Kentucky. My mind was soon made 
 up, — the more readily that I heard my citizen visitors 
 talking about the capture of several others of our 
 party, who had all admitted that they were United 
 States soldiers. They were influenced, no doubt, by 
 the same course of reasoning that I have indicated. I 
 believe this decision ultimately saved my life. 
 
 But there was room for choice as to the manner of 
 making my confession. I told the jailer that I had an 
 important communication for the authorities, and he re- 
 ported the matter to some person of influence, who sum- 
 moned a vigilance committee, and ordered me before it. 
 
 I found them prepared to renew the examination of 
 the previous day. They had the same lawyers in wait- 
 ing, and, indeed, all the principal men of the town. 
 When their preliminaries were over, they asked the 
 nature of the communication I wished to make, and 
 hoped that I could throw some light on the mysterious 
 capture of the railroad train. I said, — 
 
144 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " Gentlemen, the statements I made yesterday were 
 intended to deceive." (" So we suspected/' said one 
 of the lawyers, sotto voce.) " I will now tell you the 
 truth." 
 
 The clerk got his pen ready to take down the infor- 
 mation, and the roomful of people assumed an attitude 
 of deepest attention. 
 
 " Go on, sir ; go on," said the president. 
 
 " I am ready," said I, " to give my true name, and 
 the division and regiment of the United States army 
 to which I belong, and to tell why I came so far into 
 your country." 
 
 "Just what we want to know, sir. Go on," said 
 they. 
 
 " But," I returned, " I will make no statement what- 
 ever until taken before the regular military authority 
 of this department." 
 
 Their disappointment and surprise at this announce- 
 ment were almost amusing. Curiosity was raised to 
 the highest pitch, and did not like to postpone its grati- 
 fication. They employed every threat and argument 
 in their power to make me change my decision, — some 
 of them saying that I should be hanged to the nearest 
 tree if I did not. But I knew my ground. I told 
 them that though an enemy I was a soldier, possessed 
 of important military information, and, if they were 
 loyal to their cause, it was their duty to take me at 
 once before some regular military authority. The lead- 
 ing men admitted the justice of this view, and when 
 they found that I would reveal nothing there, they 
 made arrangements to take me to Chattanooga. This 
 was distant about twenty miles from Lafayette. Ring- 
 gold, near which we abandoned the train, was about the 
 same distance to the east. In that long and terrible 
 night of wandering I had travelled twenty miles in a 
 straight line, and, with my meanderings, must have 
 walked more than fifty. 
 
 My reason for postponing my confession until reach- 
 
JN THE ENEMTS POWER. 145 
 
 ing Chattanooga was that I wanted to get out of the 
 hands of the mob as soon as possible. There was no 
 body of soldiers or responsible authority in Lafayette. 
 If I had perished there no one, in any contingency, 
 could have been called to account for it. Where a de- 
 partment commander was stationed I would have to 
 reckon with him alone, which was far preferable, and 
 I counted on the curiosity of the mob to preserve mf 
 as long as my secret was not revealed. 
 
 I was remanded to the jail to wait for the prepara- 
 tion of a suitable escort. After dinner about a dozen 
 men entered my room, and guarded me out to the 
 public square. There a carriage was waiting, in which 
 I was placed, and then commenced the complicated 
 process of tying and chaining. 
 
 By this time a great mob had gathered, completely 
 filling the square, and in the most angry and excited 
 condition. Some persons questioned me in loud and 
 imperious tones, demanding why I came down there to 
 fight them, and adding every possible word of insult. 
 I heard many significant hints about getting ropes, and 
 the folly of taking me to Chattanooga when I could be 
 hanged just as well there. 
 
 For a little time I made no answer to any question, 
 and paid as little attention as possible to what was said. 
 But the tumult increased, and the mob grew so violent 
 in its denunciations that I feared a passive policy would 
 no longer serve. Though I was being very effectually 
 bound, my tongue was still at liberty. I had no ex- 
 perience in managing mobs, but I felt, by a kind of 
 instinct, that mobs and dogs are very similar, — neither 
 likes to attack a person who quietly and good-humor- 
 edly faces them. I had proved this with savage dogs 
 several times for mere sport, but this was a more seri- 
 ous matter. I was not much in the humor of talking, 
 but it was better to be led by policy than by inclina- 
 tion. Selecting, therefore, some of the nearest persons, 
 I spoke to them. They answered with curses, but in 
 q k 13 
 
146 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 the very act of cursing they grew milder and more 
 willing to converse. I answered their innuendoes cheer- 
 fully, jesting, whenever opportunity offered, about the 
 manner I was being secured, the bracelets they were 
 giving me, the care they had for a " Yankee," as they 
 persisted in calling me, and tried to look and speak as 
 if the whole matter were a mere comedy. I soon got 
 some of the laughers on my side, and before long had 
 the satisfaction of hearing one man say, regretfully, 
 " Pity he is a Yankee, for he seems to be a good fel- 
 low," and another agree to the sentiment. Yet I was 
 not sorry to hear the driver announce that we were 
 now ready to start. 
 
 The manner in which I was tied indicated that my 
 captors intended to " make assurance doubly sure, and 
 take a bond of fate." One end of a heavy chain was 
 put around my neck, and fastened there with a pad- 
 lock ; the other end was passed behind the carriage- 
 seat, and hitched to my foot in the same manner, the 
 chain being extended to its full length while I was in 
 a sitting position, thus rendering it impossible for me 
 to rise. My hands were tied together, my elbows were 
 pinioned to my sides by ropes, and, to crown all, I was 
 firmly bound to the carriage-seat, while two horsemen, 
 armed with pistols and carbines, followed the carriage 
 at a short distance, and ray evil genius, the little major, 
 took the seat beside me, likewise armed to the teeth. I 
 ought to have felt secure, but did not. The same ex- 
 aggerated caution was often noticed afterwards. 
 
 As we left Lafayette behind, the sky, which had 
 been clouded for days, suddenly cleared. The sun 
 shone in beauty, and smiled on the first faint dawnings 
 of spring that lay in tender green on the surrounding 
 hills. What would I not have given for such a day 
 forty-eight hours earlier ! But even then it was very 
 welcome, and my spirit grew more light as I breathed 
 the fresh air and listened to the singing of the birds. 
 
 My companions were quite talkative, and I responded 
 
IN THE ENEMY'S POWER. 147 
 
 <as well as I could. They even tried to make me think 
 that the extraordinary manner in which I was tied and 
 guarded — with which I reproached them — was a com- 
 pliment, showing that they had formed a high opinion 
 ■of my daring character ! Their conversation was pleas- 
 ant and courteous enough, except that when they passed 
 houses they would cry out, " We've got a live Yankee 
 here !" Then men, women, and children would rush 
 to the door, staring as if they saw some great monster, 
 and asking, — 
 
 " Whar did you ketch him? Goin' to hang him 
 when you get him to Chattanooga ?" and similar ex- 
 pressions without number. 
 
 I cared little for this at first, but its perpetual recur- 
 rence was not without its effect in making me think 
 that they really would hang me. In fact, my pros- 
 pects were far from encouraging ; yet I considered it 
 my duty to keep up my spirits and hold despair at 
 arm's length while any possible ground for hope re- 
 mained. The afternoon wore slowly away as we jour- 
 neyed amid grand and romantic scenery that in any 
 other circumstances would have been enthusiastically 
 enjoyed. But now my thoughts were otherwise en- 
 gaged. 
 
 I was not so much afraid of death in itself as of the 
 manner in which it was likely to come. Death amid 
 the smoke and excitement and crlorv of battle never had 
 seemed half so terrible as it now did when it stood, an 
 awful spectre, beside the gallows! And even sadder 
 it was to think of friends w T ho would count the weary 
 months, waiting and longing for my return, till hope 
 became torturing suspense, and suspense deepened into 
 despair. These and kindred thoughts were almost too 
 much for my fortitude ; yet, setting my teeth hard, T 
 resolved to endure patiently to the end. 
 
 The sun went down, and night came on, — deep, 
 'calm, and clear. One by one the stars twinkled into 
 light. I gazed upon their beauty with new feelings, 
 
148 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 as I wondered whether a few more suns might not set 
 me free from the short story of earthly things and make 
 me a dweller beyond the sky. A spirit of prayer 
 and the faint beginnings of trust stirred within me. 
 Hitherto I had been looking at passing events alone, 
 and refusing to contemplate the great new experiences 
 death would open. But now my thoughts took a new 
 direction. God was helping me, and inclining my 
 heart upward. I was to pass through many more ter- 
 rible scenes and taste bitter sorrows before I could rec- 
 ognize His voice and fully repose on His love. I was 
 not then a member of church nor a professor of re- 
 ligion. I believed the doctrines of Christianity, and 
 purposed some day to give them practical attention. It 
 had been easy to postpone this purpose, and, latterly, 
 the confusion and bustle of camp-life had almost driven 
 the subject out of my mind. But now God appeared 
 very near, and, even amid foes and dangers, I seemed 
 to have hold of some hand, firm but kind, beyond the 
 reach of vision. What influence was most powerful in 
 turning my thoughts upward I cannot tell, — whether 
 it was the familiar outlines of the grand constellations, 
 the quiet and stillness all around, so congenial to ex- 
 hausted nature after the excitement of the last few days, 
 or a yet more direct message from the Highest, — I 
 only know that the memory of that evening, when I 
 was carried, chained, down the long hill to the valley 
 in which Chattanooga lies, there to meet an unknown 
 fate, is one of the sweetest of my life. My babbling 
 guards had subsided into silence, and, as we wended 
 along through the gathering darkness, high and noble 
 thoughts of the destiny of man filled my breast, and 
 death appeared only a mere incident of existence, — the 
 gate out of one department of being into another. I 
 was nerved for any fate. 
 
 It may be thought strange that in these moments of 
 reflection and spiritual yearning I had no feeling of re- 
 morse for any of the deceptions of which I had been) 
 
IN THE ENEMY'S POWER 149 
 
 guilty. But I had not. It did not even occur to me 
 to consider them as sins at all. If necessary or expe- 
 dient I would then have added to them the sanction 
 of an oath with equal recklessness. Some sophistry — 
 felt rather than reasoned out — about the lawfulness of 
 deceiving or injuring public enemies or rebels in any 
 possible way — a conviction that they had forfeited 
 everything, even their right to be told truth — must 
 have controlled me. Before starting on this expedition 
 I had placed the highest value on truth, and would 
 have regarded a wilful lie with scorn and loathing. 
 But I accepted deception as one of the incidents of the 
 enterprise, and all sense of its wrongfulness passed 
 away, and did not return until long afterwards. 
 
 We arrived at Chattanooga while a feeble glow of 
 the soft spring twilight lingered in the air. The head- 
 quarters of General Lead better, then district com- 
 mander, was in one of the principal hotels of the town, 
 and we at once drove there. I was left in the carriage 
 while the major ascended to inform him of the arrival. 
 
 The town had already been informed. The curiosity 
 to see one of the men who had captured the train and 
 frightened the women and children of Chattanooga 
 into the woods only two days before was intense, and a 
 very large crowd soon assembled. They behaved as 
 such assemblages usually did, jeering and hooting, and 
 calling me by every epithet of reproach the language 
 afforded, — wanting to know why I came down there to 
 burn their property and murder them and their children 
 as well as free their negroes. To these multitudinous 
 questions and assertions I made no answer. I was 
 much amused (afterward !) by their criticisms of my 
 appearance. One would say that " it was a pity so 
 young and clever-looking a man should be caught in 
 such a scrape." Another, of more penetrating cast, 
 " could tell that he was a rogue by his looks, — probably 
 came out of prison in his own country." Another was 
 surprised that I could hold up my head and look around 
 
 13* 
 
150 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 on honest men, arguing that such brazen effrontery im 
 one so young was a proof of enormous depravity of 
 heart. I gave no opinion on the subject. Indeed, I 
 was not asked. 
 
 There was one man I noticed in particular. He was 
 tall and venerable-looking ; had gray hair, gray beard, 
 a magnificent forehead, and, altogether, a command- 
 ing and intellectual expression. He was treated with 
 marked deference by the throng, and as they parted 
 and allowed him to come up to my carriage, the thought 
 arose, "Surely I will receive some sympathy from that. 
 kind and noble-looking man." 
 
 His first question confirmed my hope. Said he, — 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 I answered, " Twenty-two, sir." 
 
 Gradually his lip wreathed itself into a curl of un- 
 utterable scorn, and, gazing steadily on me, he slowly 
 uttered, — 
 
 "Poor young fool ! And I suppose you were a 
 school-teacher or something of that kind in your own 
 land ! And you thought you would come down here 
 and rob us, and burn our houses, and murder us, did 
 you ? Now let me give you a little advice : if you ever 
 get home again, (but you never will !) do try, for God's 
 sake, and have a little better sense and stay there." 
 Then he turned contemptuously on his heel and strode 
 away. The rabble rewarded him with a cheer. I 
 could never find out who he was; but after that I 
 looked for no more sympathy in that crowd. 
 
 My conductor now returned and escorted me into the 
 presence of General Leadbetter. I was glad of the 
 change, though there was little about this man to in- 
 spire confidence. They said he was from the North 
 originally, — a native of Maine, T believe. His habits 
 were so intemperate that a Confederate captain after- 
 wards informed me that he always lived in one of two- 
 states, — either dead drunk or gentlemanly drunk. His 
 record was, even this early in the war, of a very ill. 
 
IN THE ENEMY'S POWER. \^\ 
 
 character, for he had been the principal agent in hang- 
 ing a considerable number of East Tennessee Union 
 men under circumstances of great barbarity. To this, 
 it was said, he owed his present position. Such was 
 the man in whose hands my fate now rested. 
 
 All the facts concerning him I learned afterwards, 
 except one that was apparent when I entered the room. 
 He was considerably under the influence of liquor, 
 though not to an extent which interfered with the 
 transaction of business. He began to question me, and 
 without any regard for truth I gave him the story that 
 I supposed would be best for my own interest. I told 
 him I was a United States soldier, giving my name, 
 company, and regiment correctly ; but told him I was 
 sent on this expedition without my previous consent, 
 and was ignorant of where I was going or what I was 
 to do, which I only learned as fast as it was to be ex- 
 ecuted. He next inquired who was our engineer, but 
 I refused to tell. I afterwards found that they were 
 exceedingly anxious to discover the name of the person 
 who ran our train, imagining him to be some official 
 connected with the Georgia State Railroad. He then 
 asked after the purpose of the expedition. I pleaded 
 ignorance as far as any positive information went ; but 
 as this did not satisfy him, I gave him my inferences. 
 There was no betrayal of Union interests in this, for 
 all I told him was what any thoughtful person, map 
 in hand, would have supposed, — the destruction of 
 bridges and the capture of Chattanooga and the occu- 
 pation of East Tennessee. He was very attentive, and 
 ©aid, — 
 
 " But has Mitchel men enough for all that ? My 
 spies report that he has not more than ten thousand 
 infantry and three regiments of cavalry." 
 
 This was so near the truth that I did not wish to 
 confirm it. So I took another departure from accuracy, 
 and said, — 
 
 " That must refer only to his advance-guard, and 
 
152 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 leaves out of account that part of his command which 
 has not yet left Nashville." 
 
 "What !" he returned, "is there a reserve army?" 
 
 I assured him there was, and that with the regiments 
 on their way from the West and Northwest, sixty or 
 seventy thousand men would be at Nashville for 
 Mitchel's disposal in three or four weeks ! 
 
 Leadbetter then asked, " What do you soldiers think 
 is going to be done with such a large army ?" 
 
 " We are confident," I answered, " that Chattanooga 
 will first be captured, then Atlanta, and afterwards 
 Mitchel may probably strike for some point on the 
 coast, so as to cut the Confederacy in halves." 
 
 The general rubbed his forehead for a moment, then 
 exclaimed, — 
 
 " It's a grand plan. They can do it if they have 
 men enough. But I had no idea that Mitchel had 
 such backing." 
 
 How I did wish that he had ! but I knew better. 
 
 Then wheeling his chair directly in front, and fixing 
 his eye steadily on me, he continued, — 
 
 " I am much obliged to you for this information. 
 Now, sir, I want you to tell me just how many men 
 you had on that train, and to describe each one so that 
 I may know them when I get hold of them." 
 
 This was too much ! I answered, " General, I have 
 freely told you whatever concerns only myself, because 
 I thought you ought to know that I am a soldier under 
 the protection of the United States government. But 
 I am not base enough to describe my comrades." 
 
 " Oh !" sneered he, " I don't know that I ought to 
 have asked you that." 
 
 " I think not, sir," I replied. 
 
 " Well," retorted he, " you need not be so particular. 
 I know all about it. Your leader's name is Andrews. 
 What kind of a man is he ?" 
 
 I was thunderstruck ! How should lie have An- 
 drews' name, and know him to be our leader? I 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 153 
 
 never imagined what I afterwards found to be the true 
 cause, — that Andrews had been captured, with docu- 
 ments in his possession which implicated him so com- 
 pletely that he acknowledged his name and the fact 
 of his leadership. I had every confidence that he, at 
 least, would escape and devise some means for our re- 
 lief. So I answered boldly, — 
 
 " I can tell you only one thing about him, and that 
 is, he is a man you will never catch." 
 
 As I said this I thought I noticed a peculiar smile 
 on the general's face, but he only replied, — 
 
 " That will do for you ;" and turning to a captain 
 who stood by, continued : " Take him to the hole, — you 
 know where that is." 
 
 With a military salute, the captain took me out of 
 the room. There was an explanation of the general's 
 smile ! Before the door, heavily ironed, stood An- 
 drews, waiting for an audience, and with him Marion 
 Ross and John Wollam. I did not think it prudent 
 to recognize them, nor they to recognize me, so we 
 passed each other as strangers. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OTHER CAPTURES. 
 
 As all the members of our party were ultimately as- 
 sembled at Chattanooga, so that from that time oui 
 stories flow together, it is now well to bring the sepa- 
 rated threads of narration down to that point. One 
 of the shortest and most lamentable was that of Jacob 
 Parrot and Samuel Robinson, both of the Thirty-third 
 Ohio Regiment. When they left the train in company 
 they reached the woods, but on the wrong side of the 
 road. After being concealed for a short time they 
 
154 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 came back to the railroad, but in attempting to cross 
 it were observed by four citizens and captured. They 
 were immediately conducted to Ringgold, where a com- 
 pany of Confederate soldiers was stationed. A course 
 of questioning here began, but Parrot refused to tell 
 anything. He was but little over eighteen years of 
 age, very boyish-looking, and entirely destitute of edu- 
 cation. So they seem to have thought him a favorable 
 subject for receiving the treatment applied to those fu- 
 gitive slaves who hesitate in answering questions. He 
 was taken out of the room by an officer and four men, 
 who stripped him and, holding him down over a large 
 stone, administered over one hundred lashes on his 
 bare back, leaving scars which the writer has often 
 seen, and which he will carry to his grave. Three 
 times the whipping was suspended, the poor boy let up 
 and asked if he was ready to confess, and on his refusal 
 he was throwm down again, and the torture continued. 
 They wished to force from him the name of the en- 
 gineer and the particulars of the expedition. But all 
 their efforts were in vain. The crowd procured a rope 
 and were about to hang him, but an officer of higher 
 rank came up and prevented this final barbarity. 
 
 The wonderful fortitude of the poor boy was of no 
 avail. He and his comrade were caught so near the 
 place where they left the disabled engine, and they 
 were so utterly unable to give any account of the man- 
 ner in which they came to be there, that both would 
 no doubt have perished if Robinson had not — after 
 first trying the Fleming County, Kentucky, story, and 
 being falsely informed that Parrot had confessed every- 
 thing — finally given his name and regiment, with the 
 general outline of the expedition. After this confes- 
 sion they were imprisoned for a time in Ringgold, and 
 afterwards brought to Chattanooga. 
 
 D. A. Dorsey furnishes me an account of his adven- 
 tures, which were in some respects peculiar. My own 
 special friend, George D. Wilson, was with him, as well 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 155 
 
 as William Bensiuger aud Robert Buffum. I use Dor- 
 set's own graphic language, — 
 
 " We fled from our broken down iron-horse in a northeasterly 
 direction towards the adjacent hills. These were sparsely studded 
 with timber, but almost entirely destitute of undergrowth, and, of 
 course, afforded but little opportunity to hide from our pursuers. 
 The latter were following upon our trail, well armed and very 
 numerous. Here occurred the first of many an amusing scene, 
 such as often light up the most horrible situation. Butfum had 
 worn a peculiar long gray coat, reaching nearly to his feet, vi' 
 which he had been very proud. Now he found it a sore im- 
 pediment to his precipitate flight, and unbuttoning it, ran right 
 out of it, leaving it spread out on the old dry weeds behind him, 
 — not even stopping to get the bottle out of the pocket, in which 
 he and I had been deeply interested for the past twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 " On we went, or rather flew, until we had distanced our pur- 
 suers, and found ourselves in a denser forest. It was very cloudy. 
 The sun was completely hidden, and we could not tell which was 
 north, south, east, or west. We wandered on until near mid- 
 night, when we came to a log hut in a small opening, surrounded 
 by a dilapidated rail-fence. The light of a blazing fire shone 
 through the cracks in the wall, and we walked to the door and 
 knocked repeatedly. Getting no answer, Wilson pulled the 
 latch-string and walked in. There a tall Georgian lay stretched 
 at full length on the floor, with his bare feet to the fire, almost 
 undressed, and suffering all the agonies of colic. Over him bent 
 his better half, busily engaged in administering hot-ash poultices. 
 Of course, under such circumstances, our application for food 
 availed nothing, and we were obliged to plod on through the dark- 
 ness, mud, and rain. Before morning we came to another cabin, 
 which we did not enter, but borrowed a pail of milk from the 
 porch, and taking it to the woods, speedily devoured it. Then 
 we wandered on, hoping for clear sky, but the clouds were un- 
 broken, and our wandering at random continued all the morning. 
 
 " About ten o'clock, in the forenoon, we saw some persons on 
 horseback, who were evidently hunting for us. We managed to 
 elude them, and getting back to ground they had passed over, 
 concealed ourselves by lying down. Several other parties were 
 seen, but by shifting our position we avoided them for some 
 hours. The increasing number of our pursuers, however, con- 
 vinced us that we were in the most deadly peril. 
 
 #<< 0h, ye woods, spread your branches apace! 
 To your deepest recesses I fly ; 
 I would hide with the beasts of the chase, 
 I would vanish from every eye 
 
156 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Ui And hark ! and hark ! the deep-mouthed bark 
 
 Comes nigher still and nigher. 
 Burst on the path a dark blood-hound, 
 His tawny muzzle tracked the ground, 
 
 And his red eye shot fire.' 
 
 " These words of the poet were fully echoed by my feelings. 
 The much-dreaded blood-hound was upon our trail. We dis- 
 covered three of them descending a hill over which we had re- 
 cently passed, right on our track, and four men behind them. 
 As soon as the latter discovered us, one of their number hallooed, 
 and was answered by shouts in every direction. This demon- 
 strated that we were surrounded. We advanced and boldly met 
 the first four, and endeavored to deceive them as to our real 
 character. Our denials of being the men who captured the train 
 the day before were all to no purpose. Soon we were surrounded 
 by at least fifty men, armed with shot-guns, rifles, and pistols. 
 One man carried a long rope. To say they were furious would 
 be a mild description. They demanded, in all kinds of profane 
 and vindictive language, our immediate surrender. We were 
 separated into two squads. Buffum and Bensinger stood together, 
 and did what they could to prove that they were victims of a 
 case of mistaken identity, Wilson and I were a few yards distant, 
 and, as he was the better talker, I left it all to him. He pro- 
 tested that we were not the men they wanted, but citizens of 
 Virginia hunting for fugitive slaves. He told a very nice and 
 plausible story, — I thought it ought to have convinced any reason- 
 able man, — but it was in vain." 
 
 [This was the only case, except one, so far as I know, 
 where the Kentucky story was varied from, und even 
 then Buffum and Bensino;er were using; it. Had Wil- 
 son and Dorsey been alone they might have succeeded 
 better. Dorsey continues : ] 
 
 " We had to surrender or fight. The latter course would have 
 been madness. We handed over our revolvers and pocket-knives 
 on demand, and then commenced the most terrible threats of 
 vengeance. A young blood, who appeared not more than six- 
 teen, put a pistol at Wilson's head, and would, no doubt, have 
 shot him had he not been prevented by one they called ' major.' 
 A rough fellow they called ' Black Billy' presented a double- 
 barreled shot-gun to my breast, swore he had sixteen buckshot in 
 each barrel, and unless I made a ' clean breast' of it he would 
 blow them all through me. This roused my indignation, and 
 considering my life worth nothing if I confessed, while a con- 
 fession might implicate others, I said, ' Gentlemen, we have sur- 
 rendered, and you have our arms. We are in your power. If 
 you want to shoot, just shoot !' 
 
LIEUTENANT D. A. DORSEY 
 
 (One of the Adventurers.) 
 
 Page 156. 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 157 
 
 11 Throwing my breast forward, in full expectation of receiving 
 the shot, I was surprised to see him drop the butt of his gun to 
 the ground and make arrangements for tying our hands. Hav- 
 ing thus secured us, they conducted us to a house about a mile 
 away, and gave us a pretty good dinner. 
 
 " Here we learned that a reward of one hundred dollars had 
 been offered for each of the 'engine thieves.' AVe also learned 
 that we were only nine miles from Ringgold, which convinced us 
 that much of our travelling the night before must have been on 
 the back track. We were certainly not as far from Ringgold when 
 captured as we had been when the previous night set in. 
 
 "After dinner we were taken to Ringgold on foot, and put into 
 jail, — the first one into which I had ever set my foot. It was 
 Sunday, April 13, 1862. This same evening we were all re- 
 moved by rail to Marietta, Georgia, where we arrived about 
 midnight, and were there placed in a literal dungeon of the 
 worst character, — dark, dreary, damp, and swarming with rats 
 and smaller vermin. From this point we had started northward 
 for the capture of the train two days before with high hopes. 
 What adventures since that time! 
 
 " We hoped when day dawned that there would be some light 
 in this filthy hole, but "we were disappointed, for, although we 
 could distinguish the difference between day and night, yet not 
 enough light entered this dismal place to enable us to recognize 
 our most intimate friend ! 
 
 "A heavy guard of six hundred cadets was placed around us 
 for the purpose of keeping down the mob. We were told that a 
 whole company of rebel soldiers had left camp at Big Shanty to 
 come to Marietta to lynch us, but were overtaken by their offi- 
 cers wnen about half-way to Marietta and dissuaded from so 
 rash an act, the officers arguing that we were soldiers, and it 
 would not do for them to thus violate the rules of war, and also 
 assuring them that we would be properly dealt with, and, in due 
 time, executed. They thus succeeded in turning them back to 
 camp. 
 
 " We remained here a whole day and two nights. On Tues- 
 day we heard a strange noise, — a horrible clanking and rattling 
 of chains, while a footstep was heard mounting the outside stair- 
 case, which was the only one. Into the hall the jailer came (for 
 it was he), and, opening the trap-door, ran a ladder down into 
 our dungeon. Then he called Wilson up into the hall, and put 
 one end of a new trace-chain round his neck, and locked it with 
 a padlock, while he also placed a pair of handcuffs on his hands. 
 I was then called, the other end of the trace-chain put around my 
 neck, and my hands secured in the same manner. We were thus 
 coupled together by the neck, as well as handcuffed. Bensinger 
 and Buffum were used in the same way. Then Hawkins and Por- 
 ter, of whose presence we had no previous knowledge, were called 
 out, chained and ironed in the same manner. We were then 
 conducted to a box-car, which had in it some bales of cotton, 
 
 14 
 
158 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 and started northward. The sergeant in charge of us stopped the 
 party at Dalton, and awaited the arrival of the officer in com- 
 mand, who was to come on the next train. It was night, and, 
 although our guard was as kind as they well could be under the 
 circumstances, they had no means of feeding us. A mob sur- 
 rounded the depot and threatened to hang us, but the guards 
 managed, not without serious difficulty, to keep them off. Here 
 we had a most grateful surprise, — one of the few really pleasant 
 incidents which mitigated the horrors of our experience. A few 
 Dalton ladies, with their servants, came into the waiting-room, 
 and supplied us with a first-class supper. We relished it hugely, 
 for we had been altogether without dinner, and our breakfast was 
 of the scantiest character. This was the first meal we had ever 
 -eaten with chains and irons upon us, and, as the reader may 
 judge, we felt and acted very awkwardly with these useless 
 appendages. The ladies who had been so bountiful, requested 
 some of our party to stand up that they might have a good look 
 at them. They complied, in pairs at a time, and, when the other 
 four had passed inspection and resumed their seats, their little 
 servant-boy came with the same request to Wilson and myself. 
 Wilson very politely declined, instructing the boy to ' tell the 
 ladies that we are not here on exhibition, but, if they will come 
 over this way, we will be glad to see and talk with them.' Th_j 
 offer was accepted, and two, a matron and young lady, appar- 
 ently mother and daughter, came to our side of the room, and we 
 had a conversation long to be remembered. They sympathize 
 with us, and wept freely. With us the wound was too deep for 
 tears. The ladies returned to the other part of the room when 
 the conversation was ended, but took seats, and remained until 
 the expected train arrived and we started for Chattanooga. All 
 this time the mob was howling and cursing and threatening out- 
 side, and we flatter ourselves that the ladies stayed to exert a re- 
 straining influence, and hinder them from proceeding to extrem- 
 ities. Before we left, the younger lady referred to sent the little 
 boy to me with a pink rose^ with one row of leaves around it, and 
 her name. 
 
 " The presentation of that rose seemed to exasperate those of 
 the mob who saw it, and I am free to confess that I regretted 
 the action, for at one time it seemed as if they would break in 
 and seize us. But the firmness of the sergeant kept them back. 
 I regret that I was so unchivalrous as to soon forget the name 
 given, but in our circumstances who would try to remember a 
 name, even that of a beautiful lady ? The only encouragement 
 as to our prospects we had yet received was that our fate would 
 be a warning to our comrades in arms, none of whom would 
 venture to engage in such another foolhardy expedition. The 
 flower served more to recall home and friends than to awaken 
 hope of any availing friendship and help in that part of the 
 country. It was twisted round and round between my closelv- 
 cuffed hands — for the cuffs I wore had no connecting links, and 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 159 
 
 litted very tight — until one by one the leaves all fell off, and 
 when the last was- gone I got Wilson to put the stem in my 
 pocket, and kept it a long time. 
 
 " We arrived at Chattanooga next morning. There was again 
 the inevitable crowd to welcome us. ' Will those hounds hunt ?' 
 bawled out a coarse-voiced individual, as they led us by our neck- 
 chains through the crowded street. 
 
 '' The landlord of the hotel to which we were taken to await 
 orders was a Union man, whom I have met since under very 
 different circumstances. At his own expense, and on his own 
 responsibility, he ordered his servants to bring us a good break- 
 fast. We had by this time got on good terms with the clever 
 guards who brought us from Marietta, and parted from them 
 with real regret. They requested to have our names written in 
 the little diaries many of them carried. Putting the book in 
 one cuffed hand and the pencil in the other, they were amazed 
 to see how well we could write under such circumstances. 
 
 " The next scene in our strange history was a terrible contrast 
 to the peaceful occupation of eating a good breakfast and writing 
 our names in diaries. We were marched to what our new con- 
 ductor called 'the hole.' From the upper room of a prison a 
 ladder was put down through a trap-door, and we were ordered to 
 descend into what I can only call hell, for it was that to us. The 
 ladderdrawn up, the trap-door again fallen, and now in the murky 
 gloom came whispered recognitions from our comrades, the warm 
 clasp of friendly but ironed hands. Andrews and all his men 
 except two — Mark Wood and Alfred Wilson — were now gathered 
 together." 
 
 It will be remembered that J. R. Porter and M. J. 
 Hawkins were not on the captured train at all, but 
 joined Dorsey and his comrades at Marietta. We 
 abridge the account of their mishaps given by Porter : 
 
 " Through some mistake or negligence of the hotel waiter we 
 were not called in time for the train" (on the morning of the 
 capture), " though we got to the depot in time to see it pass out 
 of sight. I cannot describe my feelings at that moment. . . . 
 We could hardly make up our minds how to meet the emergency. 
 
 " Then we leisurely strolled about the town, expecting every 
 moment to hear of the capture of the train. Nor did we have 
 to wait long, for the news soon reached town that a train had 
 been captured at Big Shanty while the passengers and crew were 
 at breakfast, and that it was done so quickly and easily that they 
 could not imagine who did the deed or what it meant. Soon 
 everything was wild with excitement and the town was thronged 
 with excited rebels, waiting to hear further developments. . . . 
 Hawkins and I concluded to ' skip out' for a time. After reach- 
 
160 CAPTURIKG A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ing a piece of woods we came together and congratulated our- 
 selves on our success thus far, but what to do next we hardly 
 knew. . . . After much hesitation we determined to go to Big 
 Shant} 7 , or Camp McDonald, as it was a rebel camp of instruc- 
 tion, and join the rebel army." 
 
 This was to put their heads into the lion's mouth. 
 Their best course would have been to have leisurely 
 w )rked their way southward instead of going where 
 the excitement was highest. But it is always easy to 
 be wise after the event. 
 
 " We came in sight of the camp late in the day, and marched 
 into camp and reported at headquarters. Here we found several 
 rebel officers, one of whom, who bore the marks of a colonel, 
 turned his attention to us. After a short interview, which 
 seemed plausible to him, he ordered us to report to the com- 
 manding officer of the Ninth Georgia Battalion for enlistment. 
 One of the companies not being full was called into line, and took 
 a vote whether or not we should be received into the company. 
 The vote was unanimous in our favor, and we, after giving fic- 
 titious names, were assigned to a certain mess for our suppers. 
 After supper we made the acquaintance of several of our new 
 messmates, relating dismal stories of our treatment by the 
 ' Yankee' hirelings in Kentucky, which made a good impression 
 on our comrades as to our loyalty to the Confederacy. 
 
 "Everything went right with us until in some manner it leaked 
 out among the rebels that the Yankee raiders, by mistake or ac- 
 cident, had left two of their party at Marietta. How this in- 
 formation got out I never learned, but it could not be otherwise 
 than that some of our party had indiscreetly told more than he 
 ought when captured. Who the man was we never learned." 
 
 Then followed the usual questionings, ending in the 
 acknowledgment by these two of their share in the en- 
 terprise and their position as soldiers. It is not neces- 
 sary to suppose, as Porter does, that one of the two 
 captured on Saturday — it could have been no others, 
 for Porter and Hawkins themselves were arrested Sun- 
 day morning — gave information of two of our numb r 
 being left behind. Porter and Hawkins told the same 
 Kentucky story, — even enlarged upon it to their rebel 
 messmates, and this was enough to direct suspicion to- 
 wards them. Then when examined separately by the 
 rebels it was impossible that they could avoid becoming 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. \Q\ 
 
 entangled in their stories. After examination these 
 two were committed to the Marietta jail, where they 
 met Dorsey and his comrades, as narrated above. 
 
 The last one of these narratives that our space will 
 permit us to insert is the most eventful of all. Alfred 
 Wilson and Mark Wood were the last of the whole 
 party to be captured. The story is told in the most 
 graphic manner by Wilson in his published account of 
 the expedition. I would gladly give it in his own 
 words but for its great length, and for the further fact 
 that he gives literally many of his conversations with 
 the rebels, in which both parties indulge in no small 
 amount of profanity. 
 
 As Wilson ran from the abandoned engine, of which 
 he had been the fireman, he heard his name called, and, 
 halting a moment, was joined by Wood, the only native 
 Englishman of the party, and from that time the two 
 became inseparable companions. They gained an open 
 field on a long slope in front of them, but did not feel 
 safe in trying to cross it, especially as they were out of 
 breath and the enemy not far away. They fortunately 
 saw where a tree had been cut down, probably the pre- 
 ceding summer, and the brush lay scattered around 
 with the dead leaves still clinging to it. Wilson 
 adroitly covered Wood with some of the brush, making 
 the heap so that it would not attract attention, and 
 then crawled under beside him. There they waited 
 with revolvers drawn, expecting to be discovered, and 
 determined, in that event, to fight to the death. The 
 rebels came very near, so that in some instances they 
 might have been touched by the hidden fugitives. 
 Their peril was extreme, but the pursuers were watch- 
 ing the men at a distance rather than looking for those 
 at their feet. Much of the rebel conversation could be 
 overheard. One of two stalwart pursuers, armed with 
 muskets, while just by the brush-heap, cried out, — 
 
 u There goes two of them ! Come on ; let's go for 
 them !" 
 
 I 14* 
 
[(52 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " Let's get more help," responded the other. 
 
 " Bat you see they have no guns/' urged the first, 
 and they rushed out of hearing. 
 
 These two poor men remained in that one place a 
 long while before they dared venture forth. Their 
 escape from detection was little less than miraculous. 
 So many persons had trampled over the ground where 
 they left the train that the dogs could do nothing at 
 tracking them, or their refuge would soon have been 
 discovered. The incessant rain added very much to 
 their discomfort, as it did in the case of all the fugi- 
 tives, but helped to throw the dogs from the track. 
 
 After dark, however, they crawled out from the 
 brush-heap, and could scarcely walk. After looking 
 about, they decided to take an opposite course from 
 what they had seen their comrades take, which was in 
 the main westward from Chattanooga. They wished 
 to pass far to the eastward of that town, and knew that 
 they must carefully avoid it. 
 
 The remainder of that night they travelled rapidly, 
 and about daybreak found an old barn and hid them- 
 selves in a mow of corn-fodder, where they slept com- 
 fortably until about one o'clock, when they were dis- 
 covered by two women who were hunting eggs. The 
 latter were greatly frightened, and ran to the house 
 which stood near, but Wilson and Wood followed, said 
 they had been in pursuit of the train-robbers, and pre- 
 ferred sleeping in the barn to disturbing anybody at 
 the house. Dinner was over, but some corn-bread and 
 buttermilk was furnished. This was the first food since 
 leaving the train, and it was most acceptable. They 
 paid for it, and went on their way greatly refreshed. 
 
 But they did not think it prudent to go far before 
 seeking concealment in a dense thicket to await the ap- 
 proach of night. A squad of mounted soldiers went 
 by on the road they had just left, apparently search- 
 ing for some one. At nightfall they shaped their 
 course, as nearly as they could, towards the Tennessee 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. Ig* 
 
 Hiver, east of Chattanooga. They avoided the roads, 
 but narrowly escaped running into a picket. At dawn 
 the foot of the mountains was reached, and the wan- 
 derers breathed freer than in the open country. They 
 witnessed the rising of the sun, and were greatly cheered 
 by its genial warmth. Sleep and weariness claimed 
 them until nearly night, and with darkness they started 
 on again. It was hard work, feeling the way over 
 rocks, climbing precipitous places, and descending the 
 steep inclines through bushes and briers. 
 
 On Wednesday morning mountains were on all sides, 
 with no sign of human life or habitation. They took 
 a nap in the warm sun, but hunger soon roused them. 
 That one mea] of corn-bread and buttermilk was all 
 the food they had eaten since their start on Saturday. 
 
 Thus pressed by hunger, they resolved to travel day 
 as well as nighty as in that lonely region it was not 
 likely they would be molested. In the afternoon they 
 reached the brow of a high mountain, overlooking a 
 lovely and peopled valley. Almost perishing with 
 hunger, they concluded to venture down and apply for 
 food at a hut a little separated from the rest. A young 
 woman appeared at the door, and, after hearing their 
 story, proceeded to get them a meal. Wilson asked the 
 way to the next town, the name of which he pretended 
 he could not just speak, but she helped him out by 
 mentioning — " Cleveland ?" They feasted on ham, 
 eggs, and rye coffee, and went on their way rejoicing. 
 
 Wilson determined to have a map of the country. 
 So leaving Wood outside well hidden, he ventured into 
 Cleveland, and bought " Mitchell's Geography and 
 Atlas/' the work, as he thought, of his commanding 
 general ! He returned to Wood, tore out such portions 
 of the map as they needed, and threw the rest away. 
 They were now able to form an intelligible plan, though 
 the one selected was full of peril. Wilson seems to 
 have been fond of the water, and certainly managed 
 well upon it. He wished to reach the Tennessee River, 
 
164 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 procure a boat of some kind, and float down the river- 
 past Chattanooga to some point within the Federal lines.. 
 
 By evening the travellers had reached the limits of 
 that mountain ridge, and came down again into the 
 valley. Another secluded log house induced them to 
 apply fDr food without waiting till they were on the 
 verge of starvation. Here they were very fortunate. 
 Only a noble-looking lady was at home at first. She 
 heard their story, but made up her mind that they were 
 Union men, and in that belief gave them the best fare 
 she had, and would accept no pay for it. She and her 
 husband, who afterwards came in, gave them all the 
 information in their power as to the best way of avoid- 
 ing the rebel cavalry in the neighborhood, and asked 
 no confidence in return. 
 
 But misfortunes were before them. They now passed 
 through a thickly-peopled valley, observing the great- 
 est caution. Notwithstanding their vigilance they were 
 suddenly halted by Colonel Snow's cavalry, — a com- 
 pany of rebel home-guards, whose principal business it 
 was to keep down the Union men of the vicinity. By 
 shrewd diplomacy they succeeded in making the cap- 
 tain believe that they belonged to the neighboring town 
 of Harrison. While accepting this statement he in- 
 sisted that they were trying to run away to the Union 
 army, but agreed that they might return to their hornet 
 if they would first take the oath of allegiance to the 
 Confederacy, and then be ready to join his company 
 when he called for their services. The oath was a bit- 
 ter pill, but they swallowed it, and were set at liberty. 
 
 Thev might now have taken a very safe course up the 
 line of the Cumberland Mountains into Kentucky, but 
 Wilson's mind was fixed upon getting a boat and going 
 down the Tennessee, which was almost in the opposite 
 direction. Their thoughts recurred to the Union family 
 where they had been fed the evening before, and they 
 resolved to return thither, and, revealing their true char- 
 acter, try to get help in crossing the valley to the river.. 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 165 
 
 As was safest, they came up to the hut in the night. 
 "The man admitted Wilson, while the woman stood with 
 a rifle cocked, to kill him if he proved to be an enemy. 
 Wood had been left at some little distance outside, so 
 as to excite less alarm. Having been sworn themselves 
 that day they were in the mood for continuing that busi- 
 ness, and therefore swore the man to be true to them. 
 He kept his oath far better than they did theirs. He 
 told them they must not be seen about his house, and 
 led them to an abandoned hut, which stood in a secluded 
 spot on a remote part of his farm. He then furnished 
 them with a bundle of quilts, and told them to stay in 
 the cellar and be perfectly quiet, assuring them that 
 they would be safe until he could get a chance to pilot 
 them out of the neighborhood. He and his wife sup- 
 plied them with provisions while they remained here, 
 which was for several days. Two or three reasons led 
 to this delay. Rest was sorely needed after the fatigue 
 endured in mountain travel, Snow's cavalry were still 
 in the neighborhood, and they waited also for a dark 
 night and a trusty guide to take them to the river. 
 
 The latter was found in the brother of the loyal 
 woman whose guests they were. This man took them 
 without difficulty, by a circuitous route, in the night- 
 time, to a tributary of the Tennessee, by following 
 which they could not fail to reach the main stream. 
 
 The reason Wiison gives for his strong desire to 
 travel by water is quite cogent. In the uneven moun- 
 tainous country it was next to impossible to keep a 
 direct course in night travel, even if they knew the 
 general direction, while the stream would always keep 
 them in the right way. Had they asked for guidance 
 by their Union friends in the direction of Kentucky, 
 however, they would have received it. 
 
 They soon saw a boat on the other side of the river, 
 but, as the creek was swollen and encumbered with drift- 
 wood, they could not swim across. Wilson, who always 
 took the lead, left his companion to conceal himself, 
 
lg(J CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 and, going boldly to the bank, halloed until a man 
 answered, who, at his request, ferried him across. As 
 the ferryman could not change a five-dollar note, Wil- 
 son promised to return that way in the evening — it 
 was then morning — and make it right. He hid during 
 the day, and came back after dark, and, in the absence 
 of the owner, " borrowed" the boat, took Wood aboard, 
 and was soon far away towards the Tennessee. The 
 theft of the boat stands on the same grounds as to jus- 
 tification with the numerous falsehoods told by all the 
 adventurers, — a military necessity. 
 
 At the mouth of the creek they found a patrol-boat 
 anchored nearly across the stream, but, as it was pitch- 
 dark and raining, they were not discovered, and, gliding 
 close under her stern, were soon afloat on the swift cur- 
 rent of the Tennessee. They rejoiced in this, but found 
 that their perils were not yet over. The incessant rain 
 was very chilling, and blinded their eyes; the wind blew 
 almost a gale, and the current whirled them on with 
 dangerous speed. They were in constant apprehension, 
 for they could see but a little way before them, and 
 scarcely knew where they were going. Many times 
 they very narrowly escaped wreck. Few things in the 
 whole history of the railroad adventure are more ro- 
 mantic than the picture of these two men piloting a 
 frail, stolen skiff down the mountain river during a 
 night of rain and storm. 
 
 Their motion was so rapid that they feared dawn 
 might find them in the vicinity of Chattanooga, by 
 which town it was necessary for them to pass. There- 
 fore they began, in good time, to cast about for a safe 
 landing and hiding-place. After many ineffectual at- 
 tempts, they found a small island, hugged close to the 
 shore, and reached the lower end, where they were out 
 of the current, pulled themselves under the overhang- 
 ing branches, and drew the boat on shore. 
 
 Their position was still one of extreme discomfort. 
 The rain had changed to sleet and hail, and all effort: 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 16 7 
 
 to get warm or dry was in vain. Daylight revealed a 
 small cabin on the shore near by, from which the smoke 
 curled up invitingly. Their suffering was Unendurable, 
 and they decided to seek shelter. 
 
 They launched and crossed. Poor Wood, who after- 
 wards died of consumption, brought on by exposure, 
 and who was now almost frozen, said, "Alf, you will 
 have to make up some lie to tell them. They will ask 
 us a thousand questions." 
 
 Wilson answered, " I don't know what I can tell 
 them. I am too cold to speak the truth, though." 
 
 The usual Kentucky story was modified to suit their 
 surroundings. They asked for boats, and professed to 
 be sent out to destroy all on the river, except where 
 they were in the hands of trustworthy men, with the 
 object of preventing Union men running away from 
 the conscription. This was plausible, and they were 
 warmed, dried, and fed. 
 
 They now T ran down a short distance in the daytime, 
 tied up, and hid in a field. A man and boy saw their 
 boat, and were about to take it, when the adventurers, 
 unwilling to be done by as they had done, and confi- 
 dent in their story, came out and stopped the proceed- 
 ing. They asserted that it was a government boat, and 
 that they belonged to a regiment in Chattanooga, which 
 place they learned was only five miles away. The man 
 invited them to his house to wait the lulling of the 
 storm. They accepted, and after nightfall pushed off 
 again, passing Chattanooga, which they had so long 
 dreaded, in safety. They were now almost jubilant, 
 but soon found that everything was not smooth sailing. 
 I presume the storm, which had been so disagreeable, 
 had also been a shelter, and that without it they might 
 not have got by the rebel headquarters so easily. 
 
 There is a deep gorge a few miles below the city, 
 
 ■ where the mountains rise abruptly from the water in 
 
 frowning grandeur. The river is greatly narrowed, 
 
 and, suddenly bending to the left, dashes its furious 
 
1(38 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 current against a wall of rock, and forms a foaming 
 eddy. Our two navigators "perceived even in the 
 darkness that there was danger ahead. The great roar 
 and noise caused by the dashing of the angry waters 
 against the rocks warned us. We hugged the left hand 
 with our little boat as closely as possible. As we passed 
 the angry whirlpool, into which we seemed to be drift- 
 ing, our boat was struck a tremendous blow bv a float- 
 ing log. We thought we were all dashed to pieces. 
 The blow hoisted us away, however, several yards to 
 the left, and we went flying down the gorge like the 
 wind. We were afterwards told that a number of ad- 
 venturous persons had, at different times, lost their 
 lives in trying to run down this place by getting 
 swamped in this great torrent or whirlpool, and it was 
 no doubt owing to the blow we received from the float- 
 ing log, by which our boat was knocked just beyond 
 the reach of danger, that we escaped as fortunately as 
 we did. It was a providential blow for us, though it 
 had well nigh crushed our boat. We pulled at our 
 paddles with might and main to keep the water from 
 swamping our boat, which sank pretty low in the cur- 
 rent and was now going at railroad speed. We soon 
 reached smoother water, and again felt ourselves safe." 
 
 A man on the bank warned them not to try to run 
 through the " suck," a worse place than that which 
 they had just passed. With much urging, and the 
 promise of three dollars reward, they got him to agree 
 to pilot them through. He was a skilful boatman, 
 and took them in safety, though their boat was nearly 
 filled with water. 
 
 Because of these dangers they had been running in 
 daylight. They were soon hailed by a squad of rebel 
 cavalry, but, being well over on the opposite side, rowed 
 on without seeming to notice them. They were now 
 coming to the most dangerous part of their journey, — 
 that near the Federal lines, where the vigilance of the 
 enemy was most constantly exercised. They therefore 
 
OTHER CAPTURES. 169 
 
 resolved to travel only at night, hiding themselves and 
 their precious boat by day. That night they passed 
 Bridgeport, where they expected to meet Mitchel, but 
 found he had not yet arrived. 
 
 When they sought a solitary cabin to get food the 
 next day they heard great news, — that the Yankee- 
 were in the town of Stevenson. This was confirmed 
 by numerous fugitives who were seeking safety from 
 the dreaded enemy. They got back to their canoe, 
 rowed down the river until they judged themselves 
 opposite Stevenson, and then started across the country 
 to find their friends. The good news elated them so 
 much that they made the fatal mistake of not waiting 
 for nightfall. Consequently they found themselves in 
 the town sooner than they expected, and then to their 
 dismay discovered that the streets were swarming with 
 rebel soldiers ! The story of the frightened fugitives 
 had entrapped them. 
 
 But they put the best possible face on the matter. 
 Buying a few articles in a store, they attempted to 
 stroll leisurely out, but were stopped by an officer on 
 guard and questioned. They answered plausibly, — 
 probably with the Kentucky story, as they were now 
 away from the river, — and were about to be released, 
 when a man brought a, false accusation. He recognized 
 Wilson as being one of the Federal cavalry that charged 
 into the town the previous night, and dared him to 
 deny it! He did deny it, but in vain, and having 
 been believed so often when telling falsehoods, it was 
 only a fair compensation that he now told the truth to 
 unbelieving ears. 
 
 Wilson and Wood were put on a hand-car and run 
 back to Bridgeport. At this place an excited member 
 of the crowd that gathered around them declared that 
 he knew them both, — that he had seen them on the 
 train with Andrews ! Wilson always thought this 
 man as much mistaken as his last accuser, but denial 
 was no more availing than in that case. They were 
 h 15 
 
170 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 t 
 
 taken before General Leadbetter, questioned separately, 
 as usual in the captures, Wood " perspiring like a man 
 in a July harvest/' and both virtually convicted, al- 
 though Wilson answered the questions addressed to 
 hirn in the most undaunted manner. They were taken 
 to Chattanooga, fastened together with a chain around 
 their necks, and handcuffed, as the others had been, 
 and ordered to the hole. When they descended the 
 ladder and joined our miserable company there assem- 
 bled, they heard some plaintive voice say in the dark- 
 ness, to which their eyes had not yet become accustomed, 
 " Wilson and Wood ! They have got every one of us \" 
 It was true. Every one of the bold band had been 
 captured and were gathered into one of the vilest dun- 
 geons ever used by man to torture his fellow-man! 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A HORRIBLE PRISON. 
 
 A plain picture of the Chattanooga prison into 
 which the members of the railroad party were thrust 
 cannot be given in all its detail without shocking the 
 sensitive reader. Even when the coarser features are 
 omitted enough will remain to task credulity. The 
 book and newspaper accounts published by the sur- 
 vivors are not, however, the only evidence upon which 
 the extraordinary story rests. In the Appendix the 
 official report is given, based upon sworn testimony, 
 and to this any one who may be disposed to doubt this 
 narrative is referred. 
 
 Yet I would not hold the Southern people or even 
 the Confederate government wholly responsible for the 
 barbarous and outrageous treatment experienced at this 
 place. The system of slavery is primarily responsible. 
 
A HORRIBLE PRISON. 171 
 
 for it provided such dens as the negro prison at Chat- 
 tanooga. An intemperate man of Northern birth — 
 General Lead better — found that the fortunes of war 
 had placed a score of men, one after another, in his 
 hands, and, feeling that they deserved severe treatment 
 for the daring character of their enterprise, he reck- 
 lessly ordered them, as fast as they were brought before 
 him, to be committed to "the hole" without stopping 
 to consider what accommodations it afforded. His 
 subordinates, afraid of being themselves suspected of 
 disloyalty if they showed sympathy with the prisoners, 
 offered no remonstrance, and the result was suffering 
 almost too fearful for belief. 
 
 The captain, to whose charge I had been committed 
 by General Leadbetter at the close of my examination, 
 called a guard of eight men and conducted me through 
 the streets to the northern part of the town. We 
 halted before a little brick building surrounded by a 
 high board fence, — the negro prison of Chattanooga, 
 known as " the hole." A portion of the building was 
 occupied by the jailer. The prison part consisted of 
 two rooms, one directly under the other, and also partly 
 underground. The upper room was accessible only by 
 an outside staircase, and the lower had no entrance ex- 
 cept from a trap-door directly overhead. 
 
 The jailer, whose name was Swims, met us at the 
 outer gate. He was a poor, ignorant creature, — a bad 
 specimen of the "poor white" of the South, and had 
 all his life been engaged in the lowest employments. 
 He was old, — perhaps sixty, — and had abundant hair, 
 which was very white, while his face was dry and 
 withered. His voice was always keyed on a whining 
 tone, except when some great cause, such as a request 
 of prisoners for an extra bucket of water, excited him, 
 and then it rose to a hoarse scream. Avarice was his 
 predominant characteristic. He seemed to think that 
 his accommodations were vastly too good for negroes 
 and Yankees, and that when they were admitted to his 
 
172 CAPTURING A LOCOMuTIVK. 
 
 precincts, they should be thankful and give as little 
 trouble as possible. Such a man was able to greatly 
 aggravate the hard lot of the unfortunate prisoners 
 in his care. It should also be stated that he was very 
 fond of a dram, and frequently became sufficiently in- 
 toxicated to reveal many important matters that would 
 otherwise have been concealed. 
 
 Swims bustled up to the gate, growling about being 
 troubled so much, unlocked it, and, admitting us, led 
 the way up the outside stairway into the outer room. 
 I then thought I understood why the general called the 
 place " the hole/' This room was only thirteen feet 
 square, and entirely destitute of chairs, beds, or any 
 conveniences whatever. Five or six old, miserable- 
 looking men were in it, who appeared not to have been 
 washed for months. I shuddered at the thought of 
 taking up my abode in such a den. But I was not to 
 be allowed that luxury. 
 
 Said the jailer to the captain, " Where shall I put 
 him ?" 
 
 " Below, of course/' replied the captain. 
 
 The jailer advanced to the middle of the room, and, 
 taking a large key from his pocket, knelt down and 
 unlocked two rusty locks; then, with a great effort, 
 raised a ponderous trap-door just at my feet. The hot 
 air and the stifling stench that rushed up from below 
 drove me back a few steps ; but the bayonets of the 
 guards were just behind, and I was compelled to move 
 forward again. A long ladder was thrust down through 
 the trap-door, and .the warning given those below to 
 stand from under. A mingled volley of cries, oaths, 
 and remonstrances ascended, but the ladder w r as secured, 
 and I was ordered to descend, ironed as I was. The 
 long chain and the ropes had been taken off, but the 
 handcuffs remained. I did not like to go down that 
 ladder into the gloom below, but there was no alterna- 
 tive. The darkness hid every object from view, but I 
 clambered down step by step to a depth of fully thir- 
 
A HORRIBLE PR I SOX. 173 
 
 teen feet, — for the place, as I afterwards learned when 
 I had more leisure for observation, was of cubic form, 
 just thirteen feet in length, breadth, and height. I 
 stepped off' the ladder, treading on human beings I 
 rtould not discern, and crowded in as best I could. 
 
 The heat was so great that the perspiration started 
 from every pore. The fetid air made me, for a time, 
 deadly sick, and I wondered if it could be possible that 
 they would leave human beings in this fearful place to 
 perish. The thought of the Black Hole of Calcutta 
 rose instantly before me. I did not think life could be 
 sustained in such a place for many hours. But I was 
 yet to learn the wonderful possibilities of human en- 
 durance. 
 
 My breath came thick and heavy, and I expected 
 suffocation. The ladder was drawn up, and with a dull 
 and heavy thud that seemed to strike my heart the 
 trap-door fell. It was like being closed alive in the 
 grave ! I wedged and forced my way through the 
 throng to the window. The one I reached was just 
 beneath the wooden, outside stairway, and even at noon 
 gave very little light. The only other window was at 
 the opposite side of the room and below the level of 
 the ground. They were only holes in the thick walls, 
 a foot square, and filled with a triple row of thick-set 
 iron bars that almost excluded every current of air. I 
 got my face near the bars and breathed the purest air I 
 could get, until the horrible sense of suffocation dimin- 
 ished as I became partially accustomed to these fearful 
 surroundings, and then turned to ascertain the condi- 
 tion of my prison companions. It was wretched be- 
 yond description. They were ragged, dirty, and crawl 
 ing with vermin. Most #f them were nearly naked ; 
 but the air was so stiflingly warm that those who had 
 clothing had removed all they could. I soon found 
 it necessary myself to disrobe, as far as my handcuffs 
 permitted, and even then the perspiration was most 
 profuse. It was an atmosphere of death. 
 
 15* 
 
174 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 I was the first one of the " engine thieves" put into 
 this horrible place, though several had been captured 
 earlier. When I entered there were fourteen other 
 white prisoners and one negro — sixteen in all — crowded 
 into a room thirteen feet square. My dungeon partners 
 were East Tennessee Union men. In how many other 
 prisons these hapless victims to their own loyalty were 
 immured I cannot tell ; I found some of them in every 
 prison of which I became an inmate, in Virginia and 
 Georgia as well as Tennessee. The negro had been 
 arrested on suspicion of being a fugitive, and treated in 
 the manner usual in such cases. No trial was granted. 
 A suspected fugitive was simply arrested and severely 
 flogged. This usually brought some kind of a confes- 
 sion, true or false, as the only way to stop the torture. 
 He was then committed to prison and advertised in ac- 
 cordance with his confession. If no answer came in a 
 specified time, he was taken out and flogged into a new 
 confession and re-advertised. Thus whipping and ad- 
 vertising continued until the close of the year, when he 
 was. sold at auction to pay jail and whipping fees. If 
 he was a slave, his master could take him out earlier ; 
 but a free negro had no prospect but the year of torture 
 and afterwards perpetual bondage ! Can we too often 
 thank God that the whole awful system of slavery has 
 been swept away ? Poor Aleck had been in this horrible 
 prison seven months, with no prospect but that of re- 
 maining five more and then being sold. He was so 
 kind and accommodating that he became a general 
 favorite, and when he was taken out to be whipped we 
 could not help feeling the deepest sympathy. 
 
 Every society has its aristocracy, and I soon found 
 that here the highest rank was accorded to those who 
 were charged with having done most against the Con- 
 federacy. There was one blind man, charged with 
 being a spy, and he was considered much above the 
 ordinary Union men. The rebels thought he was 
 counterfeiting blindness, but I believe it was real. I 
 
A HORRIBLE PRISON. 175 
 
 was charged with the greatest offena of any yet con- 
 fined in that dungeon, and was, of course, treated with 
 becoming deference. 
 
 About an hour later the trap-door again opened, 
 causing a stream of comparatively cool air from above 
 to rush down. It was an inconceivable relief, — a luxury 
 that none could appreciate who had not, like us, been 
 deprived of God's greatest physical blessing — pure air. 
 
 We wondered who was coming next, as the feeble 
 glimmering of a candle above revealed several forms 
 descending. The Tennesseeans cried out, " Don't put 
 any more down here ! We're full ! We'll die if more 
 are put down here !" But these remonstrances, reason- 
 able as they were, produced no effect. Down they 
 came, and I, stationing myself at the foot of the ladder, 
 spoke something indifferently to them, and heard my 
 own name called in return. There was a warm clasp 
 of ironed hands, and I knew that I had true comrades 
 in our common misery. It was Andrews, Wollam, and 
 Ross. Strangely mingled feelings swept over my bosom. 
 I was sorry that they had come to this terrible place, 
 yet glad of their companionship. We got into a corner 
 by ourselves, for we did not know but a spy might be 
 waiting to catch our words, and cautiously spoke of our 
 past adventures, and strove to form some plans for the 
 future. The trap-door was soon closed, and the free 
 air, which had seemed to flow to us in sympathy, was 
 once more shut out. 
 
 Others of our band were brought, I do not remem- 
 ber whether the same evening or the next morning, and 
 we wondered what had become of those who were still 
 absent. But they continued to arrive by twos and threes 
 until all had met in this doleful place of assemblage. 
 The whole number was twenty-two, and as fast as they 
 came the Tennesseeans with us were removed into the 
 room above, and we had the foul den all to ourselves. 
 This allowed the advantage of talking freely without 
 fear of * etrayal. 
 
176 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 We had great difficulty in arranging ourselves for 
 sleep on account of the smallness of the room. An 
 easy calculation will show how closely we were packed. 
 A small corner was necessarily reserved for the water- 
 and slop-buckets. Then two rows, with ten in each 
 row, left two over, who had to be disposed of somehow. 
 We did the best we could. Some sat against the wall, 
 while others leaned against the breasts of those who 
 were thus supported. Every motion caused the most 
 dismal clanking of chains, for the chains were not re- 
 moved even in such a dungeon. After we had been 
 packed away for the night, if any one wanted to move 
 his position, or go for a drink, he was sure to tread on 
 some of his neighbors, and, tempers being naturally 
 very short here, some warm altercations took place, 
 which contributed still more to disturb our slumbers. 
 A n«4it in the darkness with manacled hands was sev- 
 eral times prevented with great difficulty by those of us 
 who were more pacifically disposed. 
 
 A few of us, who were more fortunate, had no chains 
 around our necks, but only wore handcuffs. I was 
 strongly attached to William Reddick, one of a pair of 
 handcuffs being placed on my left hand and the other 
 on his right. In two instances three persons were fas- 
 tened by one chain, which passed around the necks of 
 each. William Campbell, a man of immense strength, 
 was a member of one trio. I have seen him several 
 times take hold of the chain near his own neck, and 
 saying, " Come here, you Yanks," parade his two chain- 
 comrades, in spite of all their resistance, back and forth 
 over the room. 
 
 In this wretched situation we slept much. The great 
 quantity of carbonic acid our breathing produced acted 
 as an opiate, and served in some measure to stupefy us 
 and deaden the sense of pain. In the morning we slept 
 or dozed, for we had no motive to rouse up until about 
 nine o'clock. The next morning after my arrival I was 
 awakened — early, as I supposed — by the opening of the 
 
A HORRIBLE PRISON. 177 
 
 trap-door and the delicious shower of cool air that fell 
 upon us. As I looked up, there was the white head of 
 our old jailer bending over and saying, in drawling 
 tones, " Boys, here's your breakfast/' and he lowered a 
 bucket by a rope, with a very small piece of corn bread 
 and a tiny morsel of meat for each of us. It was seized 
 and devoured almost instantly. I had eaten nothing 
 since the day before, and this pitiful supply only served 
 to whet my appetite. But there was no more. I learned 
 that we were to get our meals only twice a day, and t ben 
 only a starvation allowance. The quality was that which 
 
 captives' tears 
 
 Have moisten'd many a thousand years, 
 Since man first pent his fellow-men 
 Like brutes within an iron den." 
 
 I suppose our food in all our imprisonment was about 
 equal as to quantity and quality with that supplied at 
 Andersonville and other Southern prisons. But in the 
 chaining, and the close packing in dungeons, probably 
 no prisoners during the whole war fared so badly as we 
 did. 
 
 During the day that succeeded my arrival in this 
 place of horrors a few more of our party were brought 
 in, and among them was my especial friend, George D. 
 Wilson. I found that the same reason which had led 
 to the acknowledgment of my true character as a United 
 States soldier had induced them to make the same con- 
 fession. Anxious and frequent were the consultations 
 we held as to the best course for us now to pursue. It 
 was too late for absolute denial of our participation in 
 the railroad adventure, even if that had ever been ex- 
 pedient. The only possible course which seemed to 
 offer any hope was to continue to claim the character 
 and protection of soldiers engaged in regular warfare, 
 and to this end answer all reasonable questions that 
 might be asked. But there were certain facts we 
 pledged ourselves in no case to reveal. Among these 
 
 m 
 
178 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 was the name of our engineer, which they were spe- 
 cially anxious to ascertain. The fact of ignorance in 
 such a material matter would indicate that we were 
 merely following the orders of those higher in author- 
 ity, and would preserve poor Brown, who had acted in 
 that capacity, from any special dangers. The fact of 
 a previous expedition having been sent down into Geor- 
 gia upon the same errand as our own, was on no ac- 
 count to be divulged, as it was likely to stimulate our 
 captors to inflict sterner punishments by way of pre- 
 venting similar attempts in future. We were not to 
 allow it to escape that William Campbell was a civilian 
 only and not an enlisted soldier, as this would have 
 made his position more perilous than our own. We 
 were also to conceal having given any expressions of 
 willingness to engage in such an expedition, claiming 
 to have been detailed without our own consent, and or- 
 dered to obey the directions of a man placed over us. 
 The most vital point was in relation to Andrews. He 
 had already admitted being the leader of the expedi- 
 tion. We could, therefore, do him no good by pre- 
 tending not to know him, but he asked that we should 
 not admit having any knowledge of him before we 
 were put under his orders ; and, for our sake as well as 
 his, we resolved to " suppose" that he was some regu- 
 larly commissioned officer of the Federal army. Most 
 of us knew him in his true character, — that of a secret 
 agent or spy. But to have admitted that fact would 
 have been fatal to any hopes he may have had, and 
 would have very seriously prejudiced our own case. 
 The position we, therefore, took, in all our statements, 
 was that of non-commissioned officers and soldiers be- 
 longing to three Ohio regiments, who had been de- 
 tailed for an unknown service, and ordered to report to 
 an unknown officer, who had called himself Andrews, 
 and that we had faithfully and unquestioningly obeyed 
 such orders as had been given us. We agreed to urge 
 that a flag; of truce should be sent to our lines to in- 
 
A HORRIBLE PRISON. lye, 
 
 quire if we were not what we claimed to be, well know- 
 ing that, while General Mitchel would boldly avow us, 
 and stretch his power to the utmost for our protection, 
 he would be very careful not to say anything to the 
 prejudice of our leader. 
 
 Our plans were carried out to the letter. No one of 
 our " reserved facts" was ever known to the enemy until 
 we were all beyond his power, and the flag of truce was 
 not sent only because the commanding officer said that 
 he was perfectly satisfied to accept all our representa- 
 tions as true. As others of our company were captured 
 and joined us, they gave our plans their cordial ap- 
 proval, and in the separate and formal examination of 
 each one, gave their names, companies, and regiments. 
 This could not fail to produce conviction of the truth 
 of our story, and gained us the sympathy of all whose 
 bosoms were not steeled against every kindly feeling. 
 To this plan, conceived in the dungeon and consistently 
 carried out, I attribute, more than to anything else, the 
 escape of any part of our number. 
 
 Though we did not now recognize Andrews formally 
 as our leader, — he having repeated his previous decla- 
 ration that we were to rely on ourselves, — yet we com- 
 municated our plan to him, and he gave it his cordial 
 approval, saying that if we closely adhered to it we 
 would have some chance for our lives. No small 
 amount of effort was made by the rebel authorities to 
 induce us to tell more than we did. Their energies 
 were bent especially to finding out the engineer. They 
 would ask the question in the most casual manner, and 
 a number of times, when one man was taken out alone, 
 he would be offered safety and release if he would only 
 tell this one thing, and threatened with instant death 
 if he did not. But no one was moved. The opinion 
 seemed to be that the discovery of the engineer would 
 reveal the whole mystery of the enterprise. In this 
 they were mistaken, but the opinion was not unnatural. 
 They would also ask in many forms the question, 
 
180 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " How came it that you would consent to leave your 
 camp in citizens' clothes for an enterprise you knew 
 nothing about, and under the leadership of a person 
 you had never seen, and whose rank and position you 
 say you were ignorant of?" The answer was always 
 the same in substance : " We were told by our officers 
 to follow this man, and we considered it a soldier's 
 duty to obey/' I had to pass a more protracted ex- 
 amination than any of the others, perhaps because I 
 had told General Leadbetter so many of my inferences 
 about war affairs when first taken before him. For 
 two or three days I was even separated from my com- 
 rades and daily questioned. I thus gained a short relief 
 from the horrors of the negro prison, and could easily 
 have secured my own safety by dishonor; but although 
 I talked freely, I did not go a single word beyond the 
 line which Wilson and myself, with the approval of all 
 the others, had marked out. At last I overheard the 
 acute lawyer who acted as examiner on these occasions 
 say to General Leadbetter, " It is no use. He is either 
 ignorant or too sharp to tell anything." I felt greatly 
 complimented, and was then taken back to the horrors 
 of the old dungeon, where I was warmly welcomed by 
 my comrades, most of whom had passed a similar though 
 briefer ordeal. It was on this occasion that the officer 
 of the guard happened to lay a newspaper he was 
 reading near me. I was hungry for news, and in a 
 moment seized and concealed it in my clothing. It 
 was missed and a great search made, but as I was hand- 
 cuffed and looked innocent, suspicion did not fall on 
 me. It was a great prize, for it contained a complete 
 account of our chase as given by our pursuers. Through 
 all our subsequent adventures I carefully preserved it, 
 and at the date of writing it is still in my possession. 
 The estimate it gives of the military importance of 
 our expedition, and of what we actually accomplished, 
 goes beyond what has been sketched in the preceding 
 pages. (See Appendix No. II.) 
 
A HORRIBLE PRISON. 18] 
 
 After these examinations were over, the misery of 
 our dungeon-life closed about us again. Whether we 
 would be left there to perish, or whether some kind 
 of a trial would be given us with the alternatives of 
 release or execution, — what was the position of the 
 armies outside, or the progress of the war, — we could 
 not tell. In dreams only we were free. I remember 
 lying down one afternoon and dreaming of the most 
 beautiful snow-capped mountains in East Tennessee, 
 and awakening with a freshness and hopefulness which 
 lasted for many hours. But even dreams were not all 
 thus pleasant; too often they rivalled the prison itself 
 in shapes of terror and pain. 
 
 One or two of our number managed to conceal a 
 little money when searched, and, as our rations were 
 very small, it was resolved to spend it for food. The 
 jailer agreed to get us any provisions we wanted, so 
 far as the money would go. There was an anxious 
 discussion as to the most profitable mode of investment. 
 Wheat bread and molasses — the latter being very cheap 
 — were chosen, and the precious money tied to the rope, 
 which was our only mode of communication with the 
 upper world, and drawn up. It was at our evening 
 meal. We knew Swims would not trouble himself to 
 bring the provisions that evening, but we anticipated a 
 bountiful breakfast, with the keenness that only starving 
 men could feel. When the breakfast bucket dangled 
 at the end of the rope the next morning, it was quickly 
 seized, and lo ! only the usual miserly allowance of 
 "pone" and meat. " Mr. Swims, have you got the 
 bread and molasses yet?" eagerly demanded a voice 
 from below. In his most whining tones he drawled 
 out, " B-o-y-s, I lost that money.' 7 Had he been on 
 our level instead of thirteen feet above, he might have 
 learned how desperate men can become when hungry. 
 But there was no remedy. The captain of the guard, 
 when appealed to, considered it a good joke ! 
 
 16 
 
182 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. 
 
 Some two weeks after our capture Andrews received 
 a very brief trial. The charges against him were two, 
 — that of being disloyal to the Confederacy and of 
 being a spy. On the first count the evidence against 
 him was strong. A Mr. Whiteman, from Nashville, 
 Tennessee, whom Andrews himself had directed to be 
 summoned, and who had once been a partner of his in 
 some business, testified that Andrews had repeatedly 
 visited the South as a blockade-runner, bringing to 
 Whiteman some ten thousand dollars' worth of goods in 
 that manner, and that he had always professed allegiance ■ 
 to the Southern Confederacy, representing himself to be 
 a citizen of the same, and an enemy to the United States. 
 When captured, he had passes in his possession which 
 showed that he had also taken the oath of allegiance to 
 the Southern government. He had, at the same time, 
 admitted his part in the railroad adventure, which was 
 assuredly an act of hostility against the South. In- 
 deed, several persons were produced who saw him on 
 the train, or directing its movements at some of the 
 various stations during the chase. So far as I could 
 learn, there was no direct evidence produced to show 
 that he was or ever had been a spy, although this might 
 be suspected from his passing back and forth across 
 the lines, and so soon after acting as an enemy. His 
 case was entirely different from that of the men he led, 
 and much more unfavorable. They claimed to have 
 been acting all the while as enemies, and now to be 
 prisoners of war. They declared, and were ready to 
 prove, their position in the Federal army. He gave nu 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. 183 
 
 account whatever of his position, or the authority 
 under which he was acting, and allowed the court-mar- 
 tial to establish their case as best they might. He was 
 very reticent, as was proper, even among our band, as 
 to his plans and hopes, but it was whispered among us 
 that he expected the liberal use of money from an out- 
 side source to influence the court, or aid in his escape 
 if condemned. I never heard him, however, intimate 
 anything of the kind, and he certainly received no 
 such help in escaping. He employed two able lawyers, 
 and they strove for delay, and at the last gave him 
 reason to hope that some informalities in the proceed- 
 ings would require the whole trial to be gone over 
 again. No decision, however, was officially given, but 
 he was put back in the same prison, and no more 
 strictly guarded than the remainder of us, which was 
 judged to be a favorable indication of the result. 
 
 One day our old jailer, being very drunk, told us 
 that General Mitchel had advanced to Bridgeport, only 
 twenty-eight miles distant, and there defeated the rebels, 
 capturing some of the very same men who had been 
 our guards but a day or two before. How we wished 
 to have been with him ! and how we hoped for a further 
 advance on his part ! To be captured with Chattanooga 
 would be glorious ! The officers of the guard were 
 obviously uneasy. They took the strictest precautions. 
 There were twenty-six men constantly on guard, — 
 surely enough to watch over twenty-two, confined and 
 chained in a dungeon as we were. 
 
 Mitchel came nearer. We even heard the boom of 
 cannon in the distance, and his advance probably saved 
 our lives, by taking us for the time out of the clutches 
 of Swims and Lead better, for a much longer confine- 
 ment or rather suffocation there must have been fatal. 
 The ladder was thrust down and we were ordered to 
 come out. We would, then, have gladly remained in 
 that vile den a little longer, in the hope of MitchePs 
 arrival, but we crawled up. Our fastenings were in- 
 
184 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. ■ 
 
 spected, to see that none of us were in condition to 
 make a sudden dash for liberty ; we were formed into 
 a column, with a line of rebel soldiers on each side, and 
 then marched out through the gate towards the cars. 
 Strangely t\\Q free air fanned our brows and strangely 
 the wide sky bent above us. Very grateful was the 
 sense of openness and room in the streets through which 
 we passed, even although ironed, with a rebel soldier 
 on either hand. For three whole weeks twenty-two 
 men had been cooped up in a dark room much smaller 
 than an ordinary parlor. No wonder the streets of the 
 hostile town seemed like freedom by comparison. We 
 were soon seated in the cars, and were carried in the 
 evening back southward on the road we had rushed 
 over under such thrilling circumstances three weeks 
 before. 
 
 How beautiful all nature appeared ! It was now 
 May, and the time that we had spent in darkness had 
 not been lost in the outside world. The landscape had 
 been robed in richer verdure, the budding trees had 
 swelled into leafy screens, the sky was of a softer blue, 
 the birds warbled with new melody, and everything 
 seemed to wear its holiday dress. 
 
 O the joy ! the gladness ! of being once more under 
 the blue canopy of heaven, and of looking up to its 
 unfathomable depths, with no envious bars to obstruct 
 our view ! Many a time have I looked on the most 
 romantic scenery in the freshness of May, but never 
 did I so deeply feel the pleasantness and beauty of the 
 world as on that balmy evening, when the rays of the 
 setting sun, glowing from the west, streamed over the 
 grass and wheat-fields on their path, and poured in 
 mellowed, yellow radiance through the car-windows. 
 But I could not quite forget that I was chained to my 
 companion and surrounded by guards with gleaming 
 bayonets ! 
 
 The wild excitement caused by our raid had not sub- 
 sided, and as it became known that we were passing 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. 185 
 
 along the road, a mob greeted us at every station. It 
 is not necessary to again describe these assemblages, 
 for all were alike, — threatening, rude, loquacious, and 
 insulting. 
 
 We also noticed that soldiers on guard were at every 
 station, and that each bridge we passed was strongly 
 guarded. There could be no doubt that all these pre- 
 cautions, so different from the careless security of less 
 than a month previous, were among the tangible results 
 of our enterprise. It was estimated that on the various 
 roads of the South not less than three thousand troops 
 had been diverted from the field and employed in se- 
 curing communications in all parts of the rebel States. 
 A general passport system, with all its vexations, had 
 been introduced. Surely our* enterprise, though un- 
 successful in its immediate results, was far from fruit- 
 less. 
 
 We passed Big Shanty, passed Marietta, which had 
 been the extreme point of our former journey south- 
 ward, and went on to Atlanta. Here there was no jail 
 room for us ; but before going farther we had to wait 
 all day in the cars for the evening train. Our arrival 
 was soon noised abroad, and a larger* mob than we had 
 seen before gathered and proclaimed their intention of 
 hanging us. The guard defended us manfully, and 
 several persons were seriously injured. But while the 
 disturbance was in progress, one man succeeded in 
 reaching the window unnoticed and handed us a paper, 
 using only the single, magical word, "a friend," and 
 then disappeared in the throng. We read the paper by 
 snatches, as we could do so secretly, and found it t«> 
 contain glorious news, — the capture of New Orleans! 
 Othei items of news were adroitly wormed out of our 
 guards, who could not be kept from talking with us, 
 and we were full of hope that the darkening prospects 
 of the Confederacy would brighten our own outlook, 
 b) rendering the advocates of a declining rebellion 
 more cautious in their treatment of loyal soldiers. All 
 
 16* 
 
186 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 information was prohibited to us ; but from the com- 
 mon soldiers, the negroes, and often from the officers 
 of the guard themselves, we managed to pick up items 
 of intelligence, which gave us a general idea of the 
 course of affairs. 
 
 In the evening we left Atlanta, and after a journey 
 not marked by any notable event reached Madison, in 
 the same State. This was then a flourishing village, 
 and had a pleasing look as we entered it. Some six 
 hundred imprisoned Union soldiers had been already 
 gathered here, and we freely indulged the hope, which 
 was encouraged by our guards, that w T e would be put 
 with them and henceforth treated only as prisoners of 
 war. But we soon found that the brand of criminality 
 for our daring adventure was not so easily effaced. We 
 were marched past the dilapidated cotton-factory, where 
 our fellow-soldiers were confined, to the old county jail. 
 It was then entirely unoccupied, as all the prisoners had 
 been released to join the Confederate army. It was a 
 gloomy stone building, with two rooms, but both were 
 above-ground, and the lower was entered by an ordi- 
 nary door. This lower room, in which about half of 
 our party, including myself and Andrews, were placed, 
 was very dark, and its heavy stone walls rendered it 
 quite damp. But for our previous experience at Chat- 
 tanooga it would have been thought a wretched place. 
 It was so much better than that, however, that we al- 
 most enjoyed it. Indeed, we could not have endured 
 such confinement as that at Chattanooga for many weeks 
 longer. Several of our number could scarcely walk, 
 and all were greatly injured in health by the three hor- 
 rible weeks we had spent there. Now we were further 
 from the pernicious influence of General Leadbetter, 
 and, although we were still kept in irons by his explicit 
 orders, yet the captain of the guard, in whose direct 
 charge we were, showed us all the kindness in his 
 power, easing the irons which pressed too heavily upon 
 swollen limbs, and procuring us abundance of good 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. 187 
 
 water, as well as a better supply of the coarse food, 
 which we ate in common with our guard. 
 
 The citizens of the town were freely admitted to see 
 us, and ranged themselves — always in the presence of 
 the guard — along one side of the room, and talked of 
 all the exciting events of the day. We were now in 
 our true character, and were not likely to be benefited by 
 concealing our real sentiments. I used to greatly enjoy 
 their surprise and horror when I avowed myself an 
 abolitionist, and told them that I had always been one. 
 They had been talking about abolitionists for years, but. 
 had never before seen a man who would admit the jus- 
 tice of the charge. The citizens expressed much admi- 
 ration for us and for the daring of our expedition, con- 
 trasting the latter with what they were pleased to call the 
 cowardice of the Northern armies in general. George 
 D. Wilson one day earnestly assured them that we were 
 the poorest men in Mitchel's division, and had only 
 been sent on this expedition because he had no use for us ! 
 
 Here occurred one of the romantic incidents of prison- 
 life. We had been intensely anxious for some direct com- 
 munication with our own army, but from our side there 
 was no means of effecting it. One day, however, a 
 man dressed in a rebel uniform came with the throng 
 of visitors, and managed to talk quite a while, and, as 
 I thought, in a very disconnected manner, with An- 
 drews. I also thought I noticed an exchange of signs 
 between them. As soon as he and the visitors had 
 gone, and we were once more alone, Andrews told us 
 that the man was a spy in the service of the United 
 States, and that they had managed, even in the pres- 
 ence of the guard, and without exciting the least sus- 
 picion, to say all that was necessary, and that we might 
 be assured that our friends on the other side of the lines 
 would soon know all about us. I was a little incredu- 
 lous, thinking that the great anxiety of our leader to 
 communicate with some one who was a Federal spy, as 
 he himself had been, had caused him to misunderstand 
 
188 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 this man, and supposed his signs recognized when they 
 were not. 
 
 But when the captain of our guard brought us supper, 
 he lingered a little in conversation, and remarked that 
 a most singular thing had taken place that afternoon, 
 and that after this we would receive no more visitors. 
 Being pressed for explanations, he finally gave them. 
 He said that the provost-marshal of Madison had re- 
 ceived information that one of Lincoln's spies was in 
 town, and had even been among our visitors, though, 
 the captain said, he was glad that the spy had found no 
 opportunity to reveal himself to us ! The marshal at 
 once despatched a squad to arrest him. They found the 
 suspected stranger at the depot, just as the cars were 
 coming in. He was boisterously indignant at his ar- 
 rest, and told them that he had papers in his pocket 
 which would prove his character anywhere. They let 
 go their hold on him, so that he might produce his 
 papers. He lectured them roundly while pretending 
 to search in his pockets, until he noticed that the train, 
 which was starting, had attained a good degree of head- 
 way, and then, just as the last car swung by, he sud- 
 denly flung the soldiers from him and jumped aboard. 
 There was no telegraph station at Madison, and no 
 other train that evening, so that an effective pursuit was 
 out of the question. 
 
 The Confederates were very much enraged, and our 
 confinement was rendered much more strict. But we 
 felt ample compensation in the hope that our officers 
 would now T know just where we were, and be able to 
 make all possible efforts for our safety. Whether the 
 spy surmounted all other perils and got safely to our 
 lines, we never heard. 
 
 Three days only did we remain at Madison, — days 
 of comparative quiet and hope, during which we re- 
 covered some degree of our wasted strength, which was 
 sadly needed for future trials. The rebel authorities, 
 having become convinced that Chattanooga was not 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. \§<$ 
 
 in present danger from General Mitchel, ordered us 
 back to that place. Our destination was not known to 
 us, and the usual rumors circulated as to being now on 
 our way for exchange. To move from one prison to 
 another — an experience we had quite frequently — was 
 always a welcome relief, and served, in some measure, 
 to mitigate the excessive rigor of our confinement. We 
 went back over the same road we came, and had again 
 to run the gauntlet of insulting and jeering mobs. We 
 traveled in rude box-cars, wet and filthy, and were har- 
 assed by the fear of going back to our miserable prison 
 at Chattanooga. One circumstance rendered the journey 
 more endurable. Captain Laws, who commanded the 
 guard, and his soldiers also, had been in close asso- 
 ciation with us for several days, and had become really 
 interested in our welfare. While he did not relax any 
 of his vigilance, he strove to make the hardship of our 
 position more endurable, and showed a friendly spirit 
 on every occasion. His good will was especially valu- 
 able when we reached Chattanooga. 
 
 The remorseless order had been given for our return 
 to the negro prison. Captain Laws could not change 
 this, but by using his influence with Colonel Patrick 
 Cleiburne, a man of humanity, who occupied the posi- 
 tion of provost-marshal of Chattanooga for a short 
 time, he got permission for us to remain in the upper 
 room instead of being forced into the dungeon below. 
 This was a great relief, for although we were equally 
 crowded, yet the upper room was above-ground, had 
 three windows instead of two, and these were of larger 
 size. We had, therefore, a much better supply of ail 
 and light. We were very sorry for the fourteen poor 
 Tennesseeans who were put below. 
 
 Our enemies displayed a wonderful degree of caution 
 in the manner of guarding us. Even when we were 
 below, where a man, if left alone, could scarcely have 
 gotten out without assistance, they never raised the 
 trap-door unprotected by a strong guard. Old Swims 
 
190 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 remonstrated against our being in the upper room, and 
 seemed in perpetual terror. He fretted, and predicted 
 that evil would come from showing the Yankees so 
 much indulgence. Yet the precautions observed ought 
 to have reassured him. Before our door was opened 
 a strong guard was always brought up-stairs into the 
 jailer's room, from which ours was entered, and arrayed 
 in two lines with levelled bayonets. At the same time 
 the stairway was guarded, and the whole jail surrounded 
 by a strong force outside of the wall. We had not 
 yet been relieved of our fetters, — at least, not by Con- 
 federate authority. 
 
 Colonel Cleiburne had asked permission to remove 
 our irons, and this being refused, he gave us, on his 
 own responsibility, an inexpressibly great indulgence. 
 For an hour or two every fine afternoon he ordered the 
 guards to bring us out into the jail-yard. This was 
 something to look forward to all the day, and made our 
 second confinement at Chattanooga far less irksome and 
 prostrating than the first. To simply sit in the sun- 
 light and watch the clouds drifting in the blue above, 
 or to walk back and forth watching the lengthening 
 shadows of the mountains, was intense enjoyment. We 
 will never cease to be grateful to the brave Irish soldier 
 who secured us these indulgences, which, simple as they 
 were, had not been expected. 
 
 But we felt that the wearing of irons for so long a 
 period was entirely unnecessary, and set our wits to 
 work for the removal of such needless incumbrances. 
 One of the party had managed to secrete a small knife 
 in his sleeve while being searched, and with this he 
 whittled out rude keys from the bones of the meat 
 given us, which readily unlocked our handcuffs. The 
 padlocks on the chains were served in a similar manner. 
 We did not dare to let any one of the guards know of 
 this expedient, or appear in public in our new liberty, 
 lest more effectual means should be devised of securing 
 ■as. To avoid detection while thus unchained we always 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. 191 
 
 kept some one on the watch. When a footstep was 
 heard on the outside stairway the signal was given, and 
 a quick rattling of chains accompanied the adjustment 
 and relocking of our bonds. When the door opened 
 we would appear all properly chained, but when alone 
 we would soon be free again. This deception was con- 
 tinued as long as we were kept in irons. 
 
 We here took up the amusement of mock trials. 
 Andrews had been tried, and the remainder of us ex- 
 pected to be, either in a body or singly. This may 
 have suggested the diversion, which soon became very 
 popular. One of the company would be charged with 
 some offence, usually a trifling breach of our self-im- 
 posed prison rules. William Campbell, whose immense 
 personal strength better enabled him to enforce his de- 
 cisions, usually officiated as judge, until at last he got 
 the name of "judge" firmly fixed upon him. We had 
 ample time for this sport, and the opposing counsel 
 would make very long and learned speeches. So inter- 
 esting were these arguments, and so eloquent were our 
 appeals, that no one of the auditors was ever known to 
 leave the court-room while they were in progress ! The 
 witnesses were very slippery, and it was often difficult 
 to reconcile their testimony. Some friends of the pris- 
 oners nearly always attempted to resist the laws and 
 prevent the infliction of penalties, but in such cases the 
 personal weight of the judge decided the affair. This 
 resistance would give rise to new arrests and trials, an&l 
 thus the work became interminable. 
 
 Another and more refined source of enjoyment was 
 found in music. There were several good singers in 
 the party, and by practising together they soon acquired 
 great proficiency. Most of the songs, under the lead- 
 ership of Marion Ross, were of a tender and senti- 
 mental cast, such as " Nettie Moore," " Carrier Dove," 
 " Twenty Years Ago," " Do they miss me at Home ?" 
 etc. The most frequent time for singing was when 
 twilight began to fall. Then all other occupations 
 
19*2 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 would be laid aside, and in the gathering darkness the 
 voice of song would roll out as full and sweet as if not 
 strained through prison-bars. The guards were very 
 fond of our singing, and frequently groups of citizens 
 also would gather around the high jail-fence to listen. 
 Words of sympathy and kindness for the "caged Yan- 
 kees" became more common, and there were a good 
 many tangible manifestations of the same feelings. 
 The guards who came in contact with us, — a consider- 
 able number, as one squad replaced another, — together 
 with many of their officers and many residents of Chat- 
 tanooga, began to ask why we were not treated as other 
 [>risoners, and the shameful chains taken off I do 
 not know whether this produced any essential change 
 in our fortune. Most likely it was the reason we were 
 not brought to trial in a town where we would have 
 been sure of so much sympathy, but were arraigned in 
 a distant place, and before officers who were strangers 
 to us. 
 
 Yet no friendliness on the part of our guards, or 
 mitigation in the horrors of our treatment, put the 
 thought of escape out of our minds, although it did 
 divide our counsels and delay an attempt. With many 
 others, I was convinced that we ought to make a bold 
 push for liberty. The very strictness of the guard was 
 a challenge to do our best to overcome it. If there 
 were a few gleams of humanity in the present treat- 
 ment, this was merely because our captors had discov- 
 ered us to be human beings and not monsters ; besides, 
 there was enough still in the vile nature of our food " 
 and rigor of our confinement to justify the most des- 
 perate effort for freedom. If we tried and failed, we 
 might lose our lives in the attempt ; but this w r as a risk 
 soldiers have to take in every enterprise ; if recaptured, 
 we would be no worse off than we were, for the charge 
 of attempting to escape could be no more deadly than 
 the old one of seizing the train. But those who did 
 not wish to make the attempt, among whom George D. 
 
LIGHTS AXD SHADOWS OF PRISOX. 193 
 
 Wilson was foremost, maintained that our enemies 
 were growing daily kinder, and that we would soon be 
 formally placed on the footing of prisoners of war ; the 
 commander of the guard, Captain Laws, had become 
 even intimate with Wilson, and had assured him that 
 our good conduct was producing a profound impression 
 in our favor ; to forfeit this now by a foolhardy attempt 
 to escape might turn the scale against us. Ross agreed 
 with Wilson. He was a Freemason, and some mem- 
 bers of the fraternity visited him, and gave him as- 
 surances of friendship, together with some small sums 
 of money, which he generously used to procure us all 
 a little greatly-needed addition to our food. We no 
 longer made our purchases through Swims, but through 
 Captain Laws, who did not lose the money intrusted 
 to him. 
 
 Finally the majority decided in favor of an attempt 
 to escape. Two plans were proposed, — the first by the 
 writer. When men who are not expecting danger are 
 suddenly surprised, there is a moment when they are 
 incapable of action, and may be at the mercy of a bold 
 adversary. The same plan, in general outline, was 
 carried out long afterwards with the most brilliant suc- 
 cess. It was simply to have our irons off when the 
 guards came to feed us in the evening, and then, as the 
 door opened, to make a simultaneous rush upon the 
 levelled bayonets outside, wrest the muskets from their 
 holders, and pour down the stairs on the guards below. 
 If we succeeded in reaching the ground before the 
 guards fully realized what was going on, a few mo- 
 ments would suffice to disarm them, and then we could 
 leave the prison-yard in a solid body, run with all our 
 speed to the ferry-boat which lay on our side of the 
 river, not far distant. Once over the river, armed 
 with muskets and bayonets, we would have been com- 
 paratively safe. 
 
 But Andrews did not like this plan for the same 
 reason that made him so unwilling to use our arms in 
 in 17 
 
194 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 desperate fighting during the race on the train. He 
 proposed another plan, which, as he still had great in- 
 fluence with us, was adopted. His proposition was that 
 some one — John Wollam, I think, was selected for the 
 perilous attempt — should conceal himself under the bed 
 in the jailer's room as we passed through it on our re- 
 turn from the breathing-spell in the yard, and remain 
 there until all was quiet at night ; then come out and 
 noiselessly unlock the door ; after this we could rush 
 down, seize the guard, and proceed as in our first plan. 
 The time for this bold attempt was fixed for a moon- 
 less night not far distant. 
 
 There were two soldiers of the original twenty-four 
 detailed for our enterprise who failed to reach the des- 
 ignated rendezvous at Marietta. One was from the 
 Twenty-first, the other from the Second Ohio Regi- 
 ment. They had been suspected and compelled to join 
 a rebel battery, representing themselves as brothers 
 from Kentucky. In the skirmish at Bridgeport the 
 member of the Twenty-first found an opportunity to 
 run across the railroad bridge and join Mitchel. This 
 caused suspicion to rest on his supposed brother, who 
 was arrested, brought to Chattanooga, and thrown into 
 the dungeon while we were there. There was some 
 suspicion that he might have belonged to our party, 
 but we refused to recognize him, and after confinement 
 for some time he was sent back to the battery again, 
 and from it, after many remarkable adventures, suc- 
 ceeded in making good his escape to the Union lines. 
 
 There was at this time a great talk of our exchange, 
 and our drooping hopes revived. A son of General 
 MitehePs was captured, but the general held a large 
 number of rebel prisoners, and released one of them — 
 a lieutenant — on parole, to propose an exchange. This 
 man visited us and raised the most sanguine hopes 
 in our bosoms. The Confederate officers encouraged 
 those hopes, but said we must first go through a merely 
 formal trial to prove that we were really soldiers, after 
 
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON. 195 
 
 which we would be included in the exchange which 
 would undoubtedly be made. We wanted them to 
 refer the question of our soldiership to General Mitchel, 
 but we have every reason to believe that they not only 
 never asked him anything about us, but used all the 
 means in their power to prevent him from obtaining 
 any knowledge of our situation. The Exchange was 
 effected, but we were not included, and the lieutenant 
 was not permitted to return to the loyal camp. 
 
 These delusive hopes had served to delay a little 
 longer our projected escape, but at last we resolved to 
 end the suspense. The very day we had fixed upon 
 for the desperate enterprise an event occurred which 
 deranged the plan in the most unexpected manner by 
 dividing our party. George D. Wilson, who was very 
 sick, was taken down into the yard closely guarded. 
 While he was there Captain Laws came to him, and 
 said that he had received an order for twelve of our 
 number to be taken to Knoxville, to pass the formal 
 investigation which had been so long talked about, and 
 which was to fix the character of the whole party as 
 prisoners of war. Wilson asked who the twelve were 
 to be, and wished that he might be one. The captain 
 told him that this was easily arranged, as the order 
 called merely for twelve, without giving names. He 
 further offered Wilson the privilege of naming eleven 
 others beside himself to go, saying that he would do 
 well to select the ablest men, — those who could do 
 themselves most credit on examination. Whether this 
 was a mere incident, or whether it was a plan laid to 
 have Wilson select the most prominent men cf the 
 party, that they might be tried and put to death, I 
 have never learned. In the light of the subsequent 
 history, this choice was a matter of profound impor- 
 tance, and my own opinion is that the names were pur- 
 posely left blank, and Wilson induced to make the 
 choice, with the view of his leaving out the nine who 
 might best be reserved for the exercise of mercy after 
 
196 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 the others were capitally punished. If this was the 
 case, I cannot persuade myself that Captain Laws was 
 in the secret. But poor Wilson was completely mis- 
 led. He told me that he considered that those who 
 went to Knoxville would probably be exchanged first, 
 if any difference was to be made. So he put down his 
 own name first, and mine next. Then followed the 
 other two who belonged to our regiment, — the Second 
 Ohio; then William Campbell, the muscular citizen 
 of Kentucky, and the list was filled out by the names 
 of Wilson's especial friends from the other regiments. 
 As we twelve, who were to go to Knoxville, waited 
 the hour of starting, a shade of gloom fell upon us. 
 For nearly two months we had been companions in 
 trials and. privations such as fall to the lot of few men, 
 and now our band was to be separated. There was no 
 certainty of reunion; for, in spite of fair words, the 
 fact remained that we were in the power of desperate 
 and deadly foes, who would not hesitate a moment in 
 taking our lives, if they saw it for their own advantage 
 to do so. 
 
 The parting with Andrews, our noble leader, was 
 especially affecting. We had been accustomed to ask 
 his advice in all emergencies. He had been already 
 tried by court-martial, and, although no sentence had 
 been given, the long delay was not a favorable omen. 
 We knew that he was the first mark for the vengeance 
 of the foe. Officers and visitors, in bidding us hope, 
 had no words of comfort for him. He bore this like 
 a hero, as he was, and continued to hope for some de- 
 liverance. But now, after we had sung our songs to- 
 gether for the last time, and came to bid him farewell, 
 we were all moved to weeping. I will never forget nis 
 last words, as he pressed our hands, with tears in his 
 eyes, and said, in a low, sad voice that thrilled through 
 my inmost being, " Boys, if I never see you here again, 
 try to meet me on the other side of Jordan." Never 
 did we look upon his noble face again ! 
 
THE FIRST TRAGEDY. 197 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE FIRST TRAGEDY. 
 
 We will first narrate the history of the nine soldiers 
 and their leader, from whom we parted with so much 
 sorrow and foreboding when the remainder of us were 
 sent to Knoxville. Various reasons have been conjec- 
 tured for this separation, one of which has been given 
 in the preceding chapter. Another that has been en- 
 tertained by many of the party, who have had the op- 
 portunity of reviewing the facts, is that the enemy was 
 now ready to proceed in the work of vengeance, and 
 wished to lessen any possible danger of escape on our 
 part when we had been driven to desperation by the 
 beginning of the bloody work. If this was their de- 
 sign, it was not without success, for the attempt to 
 escape, fixed for the very day of our separation, was in 
 consequence postponed for a time. 
 
 A week elapsed, during which nothing occurred to 
 break the monotony of imprisonment. The plan of 
 escape had been modified to be more easily within the 
 reach of the diminished numbers of the prisoners. The 
 jack-knife, which had made keys for unlocking the 
 handcuffs, was again brought into use. The jail walls 
 consisted of brick, and were lined inside with heavy 
 plank, reaching to the top of the upper room and cov- 
 ering the ceiling. Three men leaned against the wall, 
 while a fourth stood on their shoulders, and with the 
 knife cut into the heavy plank overhead. It was no 
 light task to cut out a hole large enough to admit the 
 passage of a man's body into the attic. A small part 
 of each day only could be devoted to the work, and the 
 
 utmost vigilance was needed to prevent discovery. The 
 
 17* 
 
198 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " singing hour" was especially serviceable, as then the 
 noise of the knife could not be heard. The cut, when 
 so nearly completed as to require little more labor, was 
 so filled up as not to attract notice from below, and at- 
 tention given to other parts of the work. Just then an 
 incident occurred which added the energy of despera- 
 tion to the efforts for liberty. 
 
 Captayi Laws entered the prison-yard one day, while 
 our comrades were enjoying the shade of the prison in the 
 afternoon breathing-spell, which had been procured by 
 the kindness of Colonel Cleiburne and himself, and going 
 up to Andrews, with averted face, handed him a paper. 
 Andrews glanced at it, stood perfectly still a moment, 
 and then silently turned, and walked up-stairs into the 
 cell, the door of which had been left open. No one of 
 his comrades said a word, but all felt that something 
 dreadful had happened. The officer, who seemed hardly 
 able to control his own emotion, waited for a little time, 
 and then telling the prisoners very gently that it was 
 time to close up the prison, guarded them back to their 
 room. 
 
 The explanation Andrews then gave was scarcely 
 needed. He had received his death-sentence ! A week 
 from that day had been appointed as the time, and 
 hanging as the mode of his execution. The sorrow 
 of the brave men was indescribable. The many noble 
 qualities of our leader had won not only respect but 
 love. His unselfish regard for every one of his com- 
 panions in misfortune, his cheerful, kindly manner 
 under the greatest sufferings, had made a deep impres- 
 sion even on his guards, — much more on his comrades. 
 
 But there was one gleam of hope. Andrews and his 
 party resolved at once to carry out their projects for 
 breaking out of the jail. These soldiers would have 
 dared anything in the hope of saving their leader ; be- 
 sides, the feeling was general that this execution would 
 be but the beginning. Some of the number had always 
 maintained that no hope existed save the gleam that 
 
THE FIRST TRAGEDY. 199 
 
 might come from some desperate attempt for liberty, 
 such as they were now to put forth. 
 
 But an additional obstacle was interposed, — Andrews 
 was put down in " the hole" after receiving his sen- 
 tence. This required the well-worn knife to be again 
 used, sparingly but persistently. Notches were jawed 
 in the planks which held the bolts of the trap-door, 
 and an old blanket or two, with some articles of cloth- 
 ing, were twisted into ropes. When all this was done, 
 although the first flush of dawn began to appear in the 
 east, they dared not risk the chance of their work being 
 discovered the next day, and accordingly resolved to go 
 at once. Andrews had been drawn up out of the hole, 
 and it was agreed to give him the first chance for his 
 life. Andrews and John Wollam were in the loft or 
 attic over the prison room, while all the others, in their 
 assigned order, were ready to mount up through the 
 aperture they had cut in the ceiling. A few bricks in 
 the outside wall had also been removed, and enough 
 of the rude ropes prepared to allow one by one to de- 
 scend to the ground. The hope was that by taking off 
 their boots and moving very cautiously, each one could 
 go into the loft and out through the hole in the wall, 
 and clamber down the outside blanket-ropes without dis- 
 turbing the repose of the guard. Those who got down 
 first were to wait beside the jail until all their comrades 
 were on the ground before attempting to dash across 
 the jail-fence and the guard-line outside. 
 
 It was an anxious moment. They could see the dim 
 form of the sentry, and hear his measured tread, as he 
 paced back and forth not a dozen yards away. The 
 word was passed from one to another in the prison that- 
 all was ready. 
 
 Andrews crept out first and swung over the wall, but 
 in doing so loosened a piece of mortar or a brick, which 
 fell to the ground with a loud " thump," and attracted 
 the notice of the sentry outside, who instantly gave the 
 alarm, firing his gun and calling " Halt ! halt ! Cor- 
 
200 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE 
 
 poral of the guard !" The whole guard was instantly 
 aroused, and the firing became rapid. Andrews, how- 
 ever, dropped to the ground, darted to the fence, and 
 was over before he could be prevented. Wollam heard 
 the noise from the inside, and knowing that caution 
 was now needless, sprang through the wall, and slid 
 with the greatest rapidity to the ground. A number 
 of shots were fired while he was suspended in the air, 
 but the dim light and the hurry and confusion were 
 not favorable to a steady aim, and he, also, got to the 
 ground and over the fence unhurt. Dorsey was third 
 in order, but was too late. Before he could get into the 
 loft the guard were ready to make sure work of any 
 who might follow. He prudently turned to his com- 
 rades and said, "It is all up with us !" The whole 
 town was soon aroused. High officers visited the prison 
 to see how many had escaped. They found the re- 
 maining eight safely ironed as before, the keys having 
 been brought into use. The natural supposition was 
 that only the two who were missing had succeeded in 
 getting off their irons, and that the others had not es- 
 caped because too tightly fettered. They were, how- 
 ever, put down in " the hole" as an additional security, 
 and all damages to the prison carefully repaired, while 
 the guard manifested unusual vigilance. The afternoon 
 airing was forbidden, and all the strictness which had 
 marked the first confinement in Chattanooga returned. 
 The poor captives were made to feel that they had now 
 nothing to expect but the sternest dealings. 
 
 One consolation was left them in the hope that their 
 comrades had made good their flight, and that the 
 death-sentence of Andrews could not now be executed. 
 When the firing was first heard the not unnatural in- 
 ference was that both the fugitives had perished, but 
 they knew that such news would soon have been im- 
 parted to them; and as days passed by, their hope 
 strengthened that two, at least, of their fated company 
 would get back to the Union lines to tell the story of 
 
THE FIRST TRAGEDY. 201 
 
 their adventures and sufferings. How far these hopes 
 were realized will be seen in the sequel. 
 
 When Andrews left the prison it was nearly day, so 
 that he knew he could not long continue his flight with- 
 out detection. He went only a few hundred yards 
 away from the city, and there finding a dense tree, 
 climbed, unobserved, into its branches. It was in plain 
 view of the railroad and the river. All dav long he 
 remained in this uncomfortable position, and saw the 
 trains passing almost under his feet, and heard his pur- 
 suers speculating as to what could possibly have become 
 of him. The search all over the vicinity was most 
 thorough, but fortunately no one thought of looking 
 into the tree. 
 
 At night he came down and swam the river, but 
 becoming entangled in some drift-wood, floated down 
 past Chattanooga, and did not disengage himself until 
 he had lost most of his clothing. His boots had been 
 lost in the first alarm, and he was thus placed in the 
 most unfavorable position for escaping, but he journeyed 
 on as well as he could. Though so much superior, in 
 many particulars, to his followers, yet in trying to es- 
 cape in the woods he seems to have been as much in- 
 ferior. As will be seen, Wollam, and, at a later period, 
 many others of the number, were far more skilful or 
 fortunate than he. Early in the morning he crossed an 
 open field on his way to a tree in which he intended to 
 take shelter as on the preceding day, but unfortunately 
 he was observed. Immediate pursuit was made, bui 
 he dashed through the woods and regained the river 
 much lower down than the day before. Here he swam 
 a narrow channel and reached a small island, where, 
 for a time, he secreted himself among some drift-wood at 
 the upper end of the island. In all his terrible struggle 
 he seemed to look to the river and to trees for safety. 
 These became fixed ideas, and possibly interfered with 
 his seeking refuge in any other maimer. But the loss 
 of clothing at the outset was a fatal misfortune. 
 
202 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 A party with blood-hounds now came over from the 
 mainland to search the island for him. The dogs 
 came upon him, but he broke away from them, and 
 ran around the lower end of the island, wading in the 
 shallow water, and in this way throwing the hounds off 
 the track ; then he plunged into the dense thicket with 
 which the island was covered, and again ascended a 
 tree. There for a long time he remained securely con- 
 cealed, while his pursuers searched the whole island. 
 Frequently they were under the very tree, whose high 
 foliage effectually screened him from the gaze of dogs 
 and men. At last they abandoned the search in de- 
 spair, concluding that he had by some means left the 
 island. Slowly they took their departure to devise 
 new plans of search. Two little boys, who came along 
 merely from curiosity, were all that were left behind. 
 
 At length, in their play, one of them looked upward, 
 and said that he saw a great bunch on a tree. The 
 other looked, — shifted his position, — looked again, and 
 exclaimed, " Why, it is a man !" They were alarmed 
 and cried aloud, thus announcing their discovery to 
 their friends on shore. The latter instantly returned, 
 and Andrews, seeing himself discovered, dropped from 
 the tree, ran to the lower end of the island, took a 
 small log, with a limb for a paddle, and shoved into 
 the stream, hoping to reach the opposite shore before 
 he could be overtaken. But there was another party 
 lower down the river with a skiff, who saw him and 
 rowed out to meet him. Thus enclosed, he gave over 
 the hopeless struggle, and surrendered to his fate, — in- 
 evitable death ! He afterwards said that he felt a sense 
 almost of relief when the end had come and he knew 
 the worst. From the time of losing his clothing in the 
 drift-wood he had but little expectation of ultimate es- 
 cape. The spectacle of a man condemned to death, 
 starving and naked, hunted through the woods and 
 waters by dogs and men, is one of the most pitiable 
 that can be imagined. 
 
THE FIRST TRAGEDY. 203 
 
 Alfred Wilson, who was one of the eight who failed 
 to escape, speaks in feeling terms of the manner in 
 which their leader was brought back to them on the 
 third day after escaping. He says, — 
 
 " At the prison we were startled by a rumor that Andrews had 
 been taken, but we at first gave little credence to it, probably be- 
 cause we did not desire to believe it. But, alas ! the rumor was 
 only too true, for soon after, a strong guard of soldiers, having in 
 charge a prisoner, followed by a rabble of citizens, approached 
 the prison. It was Andrews ! Oh, how our hearts and hopes 
 sank down within us beyond the power of expression ! . . . I 
 could have prayed that death had spared me those painful 
 moments, the most harrowing of my life. He was the most 
 wretched and pitiable human being I ever saw, — a sight which 
 horrified us all, and even drew words of compassion from some 
 of our prison guards. His own brother would scarcely have been 
 able to recognize him. It did not seem possible that the short 
 space of three days could have wrought a change so startling. 
 As he lay there chained to the floor, naked, bloody, bruised, and 
 speechless, he seemed more dead than alive. He had not eaten a 
 morsel since he left us, — during which time he had made the 
 most desperate struggle for liberty and life. He had swam 
 about seven miles in the river in his efforts to keep clear of 
 the dogs. His feet were literally torn to shreds by running over 
 the sharp stones and through the brush. Towards the last he left 
 blood at every step. His back and shoulders were sun-blistered 
 almost to the bone, and so completely exhausted was he that he 
 could hardly move his limbs after he was brought in. His face 
 was pale, haggard, and emaciated. His eyes, which were sunken, 
 gave forth a wild, despairing, unnatural light. 
 
 " When we were left to ourselves, we drew around the miser- 
 able man, and, after he had somewhat revived, he told us in that 
 low, calm tone of voice in which he always spoke, and which 
 seldom failed to impress the listeners favorably towards the man, 
 the whole story of his unfortunate attempt to escape. He told 
 us he had but little time to live, and that now, after having 
 made every effort to save his life and to rescue us, and failed, he 
 felt reconciled and resigned to his fate. He said he was incapable 
 of doing anything more to help himself, and only regretted that 
 his death could not in some way be instrumental in saving us, 
 his comrades. He counselled us all against the fallacy of hoping 
 for an exchange, or for any mercy from those into whose hands 
 we had fallen. He said his doom foreshadowed our own, and 
 entreated us to prepare for the worst, and, when the time came, 
 to prove to them that we were as brave in confronting an igno- 
 minious death for our country's sake as we had been fearless in 
 doing service for her." 
 
204 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 A few more words will finish this pitiful story. 
 Andrews, in Wilson's opinion, was somewhat of a 
 fatalist, or at least was haunted with a presentiment 
 of coming doom from the time he had fairly entered 
 upon this expedition. He had not long to wait. He 
 was put back into " the hole/' but not before a negro 
 blacksmith had welded a pair of heavy fetters upon his 
 ankles, and connected them with a chain only about 
 eighteen inches in length. A scaffold was prepared 
 for him in Chattanooga, but the indications of an ad- 
 vance by Mitchel, and, possibly, expressions of sympa- 
 thy on the part of the citizens, induced the authorities 
 at the last moment to transfer the death-scene to At- 
 lanta. His comrades were sent with him to that town. 
 On the way to Atlanta he was taunted with his ap- 
 proaching doom by the crowds, who surrounded every 
 station. 
 
 It was the day appointed for the execution. On 
 reaching Atlanta Andrews and his eight companions 
 were conducted to a second-story room, not far from 
 the depot. In a little time a body of soldiers marched 
 up into the building, an officer appeared at the door, 
 and, while all were silent as death, said, in a low, almost 
 faltering tone, " Come on now, Mr. Andrews." He in- 
 stantly arose, and the low, sad " Farewell, boys," spoken 
 in his calmest, sweetest tones, mingled with the horri- 
 ble clanking of his chains, as he walked out with the 
 short, halting step his irons compelled. This was the 
 final separation. 
 
 The survivors were conducted to the city jail of At- 
 lanta, and there placed in an iron cage. At meal-time 
 the guards told them how bravely Andrews died. His 
 fortitude stilled even the clamorous spectators. The 
 dying agony was protracted by the unskilfulness of 
 the executioner, the rope stretching so that his feet 
 touched the ground. But the earth was shovelled 
 away, and the brave spirit set free. Why should the 
 gallows be accounted infamous when courage and pa- 
 
A COS FEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 205 
 
 triotism there meet a hero's death ? The cross was 
 once esteemed more shameful than the gallows now, 
 but one death has sanctified that instrument forever ! 
 
 The grave of Andrews at Atlanta was unmarked, 
 and, in the many changes that have taken place there, 
 it is probably lost forever. The most diligent search 
 on the part of the writer failed to discover it. But the 
 rope adjudged by the court-martial, all of whose mem- 
 bers have passed into obscurity with the downfall of 
 the rebellion they served, cannot desecrate his memory. 
 No flowers can be placed on his unknown grave by 
 loyal hands, but loving tears will fall freely for him as 
 long as hearts can feel for the extremity of misfortune 
 that gathered around the last hours of the man who 
 planned and boldly executed the most romantic and 
 perilous enterprise of the Great Civil War. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 
 
 Before describing the adventures of Wollam — An- 
 drews' companion in flight from the Chattanooga prison 
 — we will turn towards the twelve prisoners destined 
 for Knoxville, where a yet more fearful tragedy was 
 in preparation. 
 
 On parting from our comrades we were escorted to 
 the cars by Colonel Cleiburne, where we found, much 
 to our gratification, that we were to be guarded by a 
 party of Morgan's guerrillas, whose exploits were then 
 greatly celebrated. Cleiburne recommended us to the 
 humane care of these partisans, saying, " These prison- 
 ers are men, like other men, and gentlemen too, and 1 
 want them treated as such." This charge from the 
 generous Irishman, for such he was, did much to secure 
 
 18 
 
206 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 courteous treatment from our guard. Indeed, the posi- 
 tion of the irregular soldiers who served under the 
 guerr.lla chief was such as to make them admire rather 
 than blame the bold enterprise that led to our capture. 
 They were themselves in citizen's dress, and were not 
 always careful to provide uniforms before penetrating 
 into the Federal lines. A considerable number of 
 their comrades had been captured under such circum- 
 stances, and were, by every rule of right, equally liable 
 with ourselves to be treated as criminals. Indeed, the 
 position of some of their captured comrades was still 
 more questionable, for they had assumed the United 
 States uniform whenever they found it to their advan- 
 tage. The inconsistency of the rebel government in 
 treating our party so harshly is conclusively shown by 
 the fact that they had passed laws for the encourage- 
 ment of just such irregular warfare. 
 
 But we have no complaint to make of these dashing 
 guerrillas. They were very indignant to see us in irons, 
 and offered to be responsible for our safe-keeping if 
 these were removed; but this was not allowed. 
 
 As was common in our removals from prison to 
 prison, we had been started without any rations, — noi 
 so much, I presume, from wanton cruelty as because 
 it was no one's especial business to furnish provisions. 
 As the journey occupied twenty-four hours (and we 
 were hungry to begin with), our privation would liavt 
 been considerable but for the generosity of Morgan V. 
 men. They bought pies and whatever else they could 
 iind at the station eating-houses, and literally feasted 
 us. From the time of our capture we had not experi- 
 enced such treatment, and only hoped that these gen- 
 erous enemies might have charge of us as long as we 
 remained in Confederate territory, — a hope which was 
 not realized. We never met them again. 
 
 We arrived in Knoxville shortly after noon, having 
 spent the night on the cars, and were marched through 
 the hot, dusty streets to the city jail, — an old building 
 
A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 207 
 
 of peculiar architecture, — solid, square, and massive, 
 presenting quite an imposing appearance. It was used 
 as a military prison, and was filled from top to bottom 
 with ragged, dirty-looking prisoners. Some Union 
 men, and several rebel soldiers who had been captured 
 while attempting to desert, were with them. These 
 constituted the less-valued class of prisoners, and were 
 permitted to range over most of the building, which, 
 however, was completely encircled outside, and watched 
 in every passage-way, by a strong guard. 
 
 The class of prisoners whose offences were considered 
 of a more aggravated character were shut up in cages. 
 There were five of these cages, two of which were at 
 once cleared for our reception. The smaller was seven 
 by nine feet, and four of us were put in it. The larger 
 was perhaps ten by twelve, and held the remaining 
 eight. 
 
 We arrived at Knoxville in the latter part of May, 
 and remained until June 10. Outside, the weather was 
 intensely warm, but the enormous mass of iron and 
 stone in the walls of the prison made it comparatively 
 cool within. The days here spent were not altogether 
 unpleasant. Our food was scanty and of indifferent 
 quality, but as long as we were allowed hope I did not 
 feel much disposed to complain of this. Besides, many 
 of the Union men of Knoxville, who visited us, were 
 liberal in the gift of money, and by employing the ser- 
 vices of those prisoners who were less strictly guarded, 
 we were able to get many an extra loaf of bread. 
 
 We here became acquainted with some Tennesseeans 
 who were long our companions. One of the most re- 
 markable was an old man named Pierce. He pre- 
 sented a most peculiar appearance, having at some 
 period of his history received a terrible blow with a 
 gun-barrel, which left a permanent gash more than an 
 inch deep clear across the forehead from the nose to 
 his hair. From this circumstance he was variously 
 known in the prison as " Forked Head," " Old Gun- 
 
208 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 barrel," etc. He presented the singular combination 
 of great piety and great profanity, singing hymns and 
 cursing the Confederacy with equal zeal. But his 
 friendship for Union soldiers knew no bounds, and, 
 being very bold, he was able to render us many valu- 
 able services. 
 
 Another East Tennesseean, more widely known, was 
 Captain Fry, of Greenville, a town near the Virginia 
 boundary. He was confined in a cage, and considered 
 by our guards almost equally criminal with ourselves. 
 Early in the war he had gathered a number of his 
 neighbors, and, running the gauntlet of guarded roads, 
 succeeded in reaching our army in Kentucky. Here 
 he was appointed captain of his recruits, and remained 
 for some time. When an advance into East Tennessee 
 through Cumberland Gap was contemplated, the Union 
 general asked him to return to his home, organize the 
 loyal citizens of that vicinity, burn the bridges on the 
 Richmond and Knoxville Railroad, and then to keep 
 possession of the mountainous region till our forces 
 could arrive. With the most explicit assurances of 
 speedy aid, he departed on his perilous mission. Suc- 
 cess on his part was rapid and complete. He raised 
 fifteen hundred men, obstructed all communications, 
 burned the bridges, and seriously threatened Knox- 
 ville itself. A very small Union reinforcement could 
 then have rendered invaluable services, and all the 
 men needed for the work were assembled not far from 
 Cumberland Gap. But the attention of the military 
 authorities was then turned in another direction, and 
 the plan of advancing into East Tennessee was accord- 
 ingly abandoned. No word of the change reached 
 Fry, who struggled on alone. But the odds were too 
 great. An overwhelming force of the enemy was 
 thrown upon him, and after several contests he and his 
 brave men were forced to disperse. A few succeeded 
 in reaching the loyal lines, and these mostly enlisted in 
 our army. Others were captured, and many of thera 
 
A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 209 
 
 hanged as rebels ! General Leadbetter was very con- 
 spicuous in this savage work. Fry himself passed the 
 whole winter in hiding among the wild mountains of 
 that section, and in the spring mustered several hun- 
 dred of those who were fugitives like himself, and tried 
 to reach the Union lines. Near the border he was 
 overtaken by a superior rebel force, and after a severe 
 contest he was defeated, wounded, and taken prisoner. 
 This was on the 5th of March, 1862, and he was kept 
 in solitary confinement until placed with us on the 11th 
 of June following. Captain Fry's subsequent fortunes 
 were closely united with those of our party — indeed, 
 with my own — and will be related in due time. 
 
 When I bring back in memory the minute impres- 
 sions of those eventful days, I feel surprise that so 
 many hours of comparative pleasure were found. We 
 had here many persons to converse with. We had 
 light and air, which we had not at Chattanooga. We 
 procured newspapers with frequency, no attempt being 
 made to prevent this as in other prisons, and were able 
 to form some idea of the gigantic contest in which we 
 were so deeply interested, and which at that time pro- 
 gressed hopefully. We had become most intimate with 
 each other, and would not allow despondency or brood- 
 ing over trouble to take hold upon any one of our 
 number. We also provided employment for each 
 waking hour, and until those tragic events occurred 
 which deepened the gloom around us we were compar- 
 atively hopeful and happy. I even managed to take 
 up the thread of my law studies and prosecute them 
 vigorously. I sent word through a visitor to a law 
 firm — Baxter & Temple — that I wanted to borrow 
 " Greenleaf on Evidence," and almost as much to my 
 surprise as pleasure the volumes were promptly sent. 
 The prison made quite a good study, and the spectacle 
 of a man reading law in an iron cage seemed to guards 
 and visitors alike an excellent jest. But I could afford 
 to let them laugh, for mine was the gain, not only in 
 o 18* 
 
210 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 the knowledge acquired, but in causing the prison days 
 to pass less wearily. 
 
 Before we had been long at Knoxville we were vis- 
 ited by an officer, whom we had seen frequently in 
 Chattanooga, and who told us that he was judge-advo- 
 cate of a court-martial about to convene, and notified 
 us to prepare for trial. Neither this intelligence nor 
 his manner in giving it was at all alarming. We knew 
 that we had been ordered to Knoxville for this very 
 purpose, and were only anxious to have the trial soon 
 over, that we might be formally declared prisoners of 
 war, and thus be placed in position to be exchanged, if 
 an opportunity should occur. To this end we asked 
 the judge-advocate if we would all be put on trial at 
 once, and when he answered in the negative, we urged 
 the expediency and justice of that course, assuring him 
 that the cases of all were precisely alike. But he re- 
 fused with some curtness. We next asked that he 
 would select one of our number to be tried, whose 
 award might determine the position of the whole party, 
 and offering to sign a paper agreeing to this course. 
 This he also refused, with the declaration that the court 
 knew its own business, and that every one of us should 
 be tried on his own merits. The only reason I have 
 ever been able to imagine for this course is that the in- 
 tentions towards us were much more serious than we 
 had been allowed to conjecture, and that it would have 
 looked too absurd to arraign so large a band of private 
 soldiers from one brigade on the charge of being spies. 
 We asked him for the charge on which the trial was to 
 take place, and with some apparent hesitation he gave 
 it, — the same against all. It was charged, in substance, 
 that we were enemies who were lurking in and around 
 Confederate camps as spies for the purpose of obtain- 
 ing military information. Not one word was said 
 about seizing the cars or anvthino; that we did or tried 
 to do. Wilson spoke out boldly, and said, " But you 
 know we are not spies, and have yourself told us that 
 
A Coy FEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 211 
 
 ■we cannot be held as such." Then, with what I can- 
 not but consider as deep deception, he replied that their 
 expectation now was to obtain a negative verdict, which 
 would justify them in exchanging us. He further ad- 
 vised us to employ counsel and put our cause in good 
 shape, but not to make ourselves uneasy. The whole 
 conversation left some apprehension upon our minds, 
 but in the case of most of us the inherent hopefulness 
 of youth soon banished it. 
 
 Our plan of defence has been partly indicated before. 
 It was to tell just who we were and what we had done, 
 and to claim that we were United States soldiers, de- 
 tailed on a military expedition without our own consent 
 or knowledge, and simply obeying orders. We were 
 to deny in the strongest terms that we had been lurk- 
 ing about any camps, or that we had sought or obtained 
 any military information. No question was to be an- 
 swered that would lead to the discovery of the engineer 
 or tend to show that any one had volunteered for this 
 service. As to evidence against us, we knew that our 
 recorded confessions, made when we were first brought 
 to Chattanooga, could be used, and possibly the evidence 
 of those who first captured us. But no one could say 
 anything about our lurking around Confederate camps. 
 We had been within the guard-lines at Big Shanty, but 
 we were no more " lurking;" there than a bodv of cav- 
 airy who might charge into a camp. Indeed, we felt 
 sure that the charge, in the form it bore, could not be 
 sustained. To make the greatest impression of candor, 
 our story was sketched in brief, with the approval of 
 the whole number, and, at a subsequent visit of the 
 judge-advocate, handed to him. He took our signa- 
 tures to it, and it was read on the trials as our confes- 
 sion. It saved our enemies some trouble in the matter 
 of witnesses, and put our case in what we judged the 
 most favorable light. 
 
 Baxter & Temple, who had so kindly accommo- 
 dated me with books, were willing to act as our counsel. 
 
212 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 They stipulated that, as fast as tried, we should give- 
 them our notes for one hundred and fifty dollars each. 
 They did not care for the money, and, indeed, the pros- 
 pect of obtaining it was not very favorable. But their 
 own safety required that their help should appear to be 
 purely professional. They assured me privately that 
 they were loyal to our government and would do us 
 any favor they dared. They did promote our comfort 
 by the secret gift of some money. 
 
 The story of the trials may soon be told. The 
 charges and specifications of William Campbell were 
 first handed in. He was a citizen of Kentucky in 
 reality, but claimed to be a member of Company K, 
 Second Ohio, and we were careful to endorse his state- 
 ment. It was never suspected that he stood in any 
 different relation from his comrades. After the over- 
 throw of the Confederacy the writer obtained copies 
 of these charges and specifications, together with many 
 other papers from the rebel archives. They are still 
 on file at Washington. With the exception of the 
 change of names and position in the army, the charges 
 were precisely alike in all the cases. 
 
 "Charge. — Violation of Section 2d of the 101st Article of the 
 Rules and Articles of War. 
 
 " Specification 1st. — In that the said William Campbell, private 
 Company ' K,' Second Ohio Regiment, U.S.A., not owing alle- 
 giance to the Confederate States of America, and being in the 
 service and army of the United States, then and now at war with, 
 the Confederate States of America, did, on or about the 7th day 
 of April, 1862, leave the army of the United States, then lying 
 near Shelby ville, Tennessee, and with a company of about twenty 
 other soldiers of the United States army, all dressed m citizen's 
 clothes, repair to Chattanooga, Tennessee, entering covertly 
 within the lines of the Confederate forces at that post, and did 
 thus, on or about the 11th day of April, 1862, lurk as a spy in and 
 about the encampment of said forces, representing himself as a 
 citizen of Kentucky going to join the Southern army. 
 
 u Specification 2d. — And the said William Campbell, private 
 Company ' K,' Second Ohio Regiment, U.S.A., thus dressed in 
 citizen's clothes, and representing himself as a citizen of Ken- 
 tucky going to join the Southern army, did proceed by railroad. 
 to Marietta, Georgia, — thus covertly pass through the lines of 
 
A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 213 
 
 the Confederate forces stationed at Chattanooga, Dalton, and 
 Camp McDonald, and did thus, on or about the 11th day of April, 
 1862, lurk as a spy in and about the said encampments of the 
 Confederate forces at the places stated aforesaid." 
 
 All mention of the capture of the train, with the 
 terrible chase that followed, is entirely omitted from 
 this paper. Could this be for any other reason than 
 that this sequel would disprove the fact of " lurking as 
 a spy," on which the whole charge is made to turn, and 
 make the whole expedition appear of a distinctive mili- 
 tary character ? The whole charge of " lurking as a 
 spy" was constructive — not real. No evidence could 
 be adduced to show that any one of us had lingered 
 for a single hour at any one of the three Confederate 
 encampments mentioned. Neither was there any evi- 
 dence that our false stories were told inside of any 
 encampment. 
 
 With charges which were simply a recital of a small 
 part of our own admissions and some inference from 
 them, the trials were very simple and brief. William 
 Campbell was taken out first, the above paper read to 
 him, and he responded, " Not true, so far as lurking in 
 any camp or being a spy is concerned." The plea of 
 " not guilty" was then entered for him, our own confes- 
 sion read, one or two minor witnesses called, and he re- 
 turned to prison. The next day another man was taken 
 to the court and the same story rehearsed. Thus each 
 day one trial only took place, and no pleadings were 
 heard by the prisoner, either for or against himself, 
 and no sentence w r as given. The time occupied in each 
 session of the court was not much more than an hour. 
 The table around which the court sat was covered with 
 bottles, newspapers, and novels, and the members occu- 
 pied themselves during the proceedings in discussing 
 these. All this was very well if the object was, as they 
 assured us, merely to put formally on record our true 
 character as prisoners of war ; but it was most heartless 
 if the trial was in earnest, and a matter of life or death, 
 
214 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Wilson related to me a ludicrous incident that oc- 
 curred when he was on trial. No instance of his being 
 anywhere within the guard-lines was proved. A young 
 lieutenant requested to be placed on the witness-stand 
 to testify of one occasion when he knew that the pris- 
 oner had passed their picket-lines. His offer was gladly 
 accepted. On being sw r orn, he stated that he had com- 
 manded a picket-post which included the Chattanooga 
 ferry, and this ferry the prisoner admitted passing. Im- 
 mediately the president of the court arose and said that 
 the young gentleman was mistaken, as he himself com- 
 manded the guard that day, and that no guard ivas 
 placed at the ferry. The whole court was thrown into 
 a roar of laughter, and the confusion of our would-be 
 convictor may be imagined. 
 
 Our lawyers visited us frequently in the prison for 
 the purpose of consultation, and expressed themselves 
 as delighted with the turn matters were taking. No 
 evidence had been found to discredit or go beyond our 
 own statements. They said that all the plans of the 
 prosecution had been deranged, and that if convicted 
 now, it would be through mere prejudice and perjury 
 on the part of the court. 
 
 There was one feature of the trial, however, which I 
 did not like, and against which we protested with all our 
 power. No one who was tried was allowed to be present 
 to hear the pleading of counsel on either side. We could 
 neither hear what the judge-advocate urged against us 
 nor what our lawyers said in our favor. Even at the 
 trial of Andrews, in Chattanooga, he had not been de- 
 barred this privilege. But in this, and one other par- 
 ticular to be narrated later, the rebels used our soldiers 
 with less show of justice than had been accorded to 
 Andrews himself. 
 
 After three or four of our number had been tried, 
 one of our lawyers read to us the plea, which he said 
 he had read after the trial of each man, and would con- 
 tinue to read. It appeared to me to be a paper of great. 
 
A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 215 
 
 ability, and I cannot conceive how it could be success- 
 fully answered. Judge-Advocate-General Holt offi- 
 cially speaks of it as " This just and unanswerable 
 presentation of the case." It was contended that our 
 being dressed in citizen's clothes instead of Federal 
 uniforms, which was the only unmilitary incident in 
 the whole history, ought not to weigh against us, be- 
 cause this was nothing more than the Confederate gov- 
 ernment had expressly authorized in the case of their 
 own soldiers, and that making war without uniform 
 was practised by all the guerrillas in the Confederate 
 service, — by some from necessity, and by others because 
 they were thus able better to escape detection, and in- 
 flict more damage upon the enemy. A special instance 
 Mas cited in which General Morgan had dressed a de- 
 tachment of his partisans in Federal uniform, and 
 passed them off as belonging to the Eighth Pennsyl- 
 vania Cavalry, by which means he had succeeded in 
 reaching and damaging a railroad within the Federal 
 lines. Some of these very men were captured by the 
 Federal government, and were, up to the present, held 
 as prisoners of war. To decide that we were spies 
 because we were captured without our uniform would 
 not only provoke retaliation, but establish a principle 
 far more dangerous to the Confederate than to the 
 Federal forces. It was urged that we had stated the 
 object of our expedition, which was a purely military 
 one, and as such entirely within the laws of war. No 
 evidence had been adduced to show that we were other 
 than what we claimed. The plea closed by asking what 
 good purpose could be served by sacrificing ignomini- 
 ously the lives of so many brave men on a charge 
 which had been conclusively disproved by the evidence, 
 and which every member of the court knew to be really 
 untrue. We were not spies in fact, and to call us such 
 against their own convictions, and on merely technical 
 and constructive grounds, would be as unwise as it was 
 cruel. The plea did not embrace one argument which 
 
216 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 added very much to our hopefulness, and which oui 
 lawyers considered likely to have a great weight with 
 the court, though they dared not formally state it. 
 MeOellan had not yet been repulsed before Richmond, 
 and the collapse of the Rebellion seemed imminent. 
 The same rigid construction which was necessary to 
 make us spies would assuredly render them all liable to 
 the punishment of treason, and they were not in a posi- 
 tion to make it prudent to invoke the utmost severities 
 and extreme penalties of the laws of war. As I glance 
 back over the lapse of twenty years it still seems to me 
 strange that the decision of the court-martial in our 
 favor could have been for a moment doubtful. But, 
 alas ! reason and sound judgment do not always rule in 
 human affairs. Though we knew it not then, the life 
 of every man in that Knoxville prison was trembling 
 in the balance. 
 
 For one whole week — seven days — the trials went 
 on, the same forms being used in the case of each man, 
 who was taken out for an hour and returned, knowing 
 nothing of his sentence, having heard no pleading 
 against himself, and being treated in no sense differently 
 after his trial. On the seventh day we read that General 
 Mitchel had advanced to Chattanooga and was shelling 
 the town across the river, and also, that the Federal Gen- 
 eral Morgan was advancing from Cumberland Gap, and 
 threatening Knoxville. We fervently hoped that the 
 latter would settle the question of our fate by capturing 
 the town while we were still in it. This would have 
 done away with all further perplexity as to the de- 
 cision of the court-martial ! 
 
 This advance did prevent all further trials. The 
 officers of the court were hurried off to their regiments 
 to resist the enemy. From the newspapers, which some 
 prisoners managed to obtain every day, and then loaned 
 or read to all the others, we were kept well informed 
 as to the progress of events. Some of the intelligence 
 they brought thrilled us to our souls. More than a 
 
A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 217 
 
 week before this we read of the escape of Andrews and 
 Wollarn from the Chattanooga prison. We greatly re- 
 joiced, believing firmly that our leader would be sure 
 to get to our lines, and then use all his influence to se- 
 cure some form of help for us. The news of his recap- 
 ture overthrew all these hopes and filled us with anx- 
 ious apprehension, although we were ignorant of hi > 
 being; sentenced to death. Of the fate of Wollam 
 nothing was stated. 
 
 But a more terrible blow was in store. One day a 
 newspaper was silently passed up to our cage by some 
 friend outside, and, glancing at it, the first thing that 
 arrested our attention was an account of the execution of 
 Andrews ! With equal silence we sent it into the other 
 cage. Just before this deadly intelligence came we had 
 been engaged in story-telling and in various games, for 
 we were always merry, refusing to indulge in gloomy 
 forebodings. But this was the sudden opening of an 
 awful gulf at our feet. All noise and merriment were 
 suspended, and we passed the whole day in mourning. 
 We could not talk to our guards as lightly as we had 
 done before, for there was now blood between us. We 
 all loved Andrews, and would have undergone any 
 peril to save him, but there was no possibility now 
 even of vengeance. And, although his fate was gov- 
 erned by different principles from ours, we could not 
 help feeling more distrustful of our own position. 
 
 An extra guard, bearing a great number of ropes, 
 came in the morning after the last trial, and we were 
 called out of our cages. This was startling, as we had 
 no hint of their purpose, and the word was even passed 
 around that we were all to be taken out and hanged 
 immediately. But one of the outside prisoners found 
 an opportunity to inform us that he had overheard the 
 commander saying that he was to remove us to prevent 
 our capture in case of a sudden Federal dash upon 
 Knoxville. This convinced us that we were only to 
 have another of our frequent changes of prisons. 
 
 K 19 
 
218 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 In our cages here we had not been ironed, and, as 
 our fetters had been used on some prisoners sent to 
 Richmond, we were now obliged to content ourselves 
 with a most liberal allowance of cotton rope. It was 
 this provision for tying us which at first excited our 
 apprehensions. 
 
 While we were being securely bound I had an 
 amusing passage-at- words with the adjutant, who was 
 superintending that operation. I said to him, as po 
 litely as I could, — 
 
 u I suppose, sir, our destination is not known ?" 
 " It is not known to you at any rate, sir," was the 
 gruff rejoinder. 
 
 This was noticed by the whole party, and I felt 
 rather beaten ; but a moment later came my chance 
 for revenge. He turned again to me, and said, in a 
 dictatorial manner, — 
 
 " Who was it that run your engine through ?" 
 I bowed, and returned in the blandest tone, "TJiat is 
 not known to you at any rate, sir." 
 
 All the prisoners around roared with laughter, and 
 the adjutant, reddening to the eyes, turned away, mut- 
 tering that he believed I was the engineer myself! 
 
 When the process of tying was completed to the 
 adjutant's satisfaction, we took our departure southward, 
 and passed through Chattanooga once more, but, to our 
 satisfaction, did not stop there. We continued south- 
 ward, in the direction of Atlanta. No rations were 
 taken for us, as usual, and having on this occasion no 
 guerrillas to buy us supplies, we were obliged to fast 
 the whole time. At various stations the populace 
 taunted us with Andrews' death, and charitably hoped 
 we might soon meet the same fate. The remark was 
 often made that we were going to Atlanta to be hanged 
 there, as he had been ! Captain Fry, Pierce, and a few 
 other of the East Terrnesseeans were taken along with 
 us. Before we reached Chattanooga, we had, as I 
 thought, an excellent chance to effect our escape. The 
 
A CONFEDERATE COURT-MARTIAL. 219 
 
 journey was so slow that night came on, and our guard, 
 wearied with the frequent delays, had relaxed their 
 vigilance, and most of them slept by our sides. They 
 exceeded us in numbers, and were armed, while we 
 were tied. But our two months' experience had made 
 us adepts in some of the poor, pitiful arts prisoners 
 soon learn. We could communicate without exciting 
 the suspicions of the soldiers, who were sitting in the 
 very seats with us, and scarcely one of our number had 
 failed to so " settle himself" in the cotton ropes that 
 they could have been thrown off at a moment's notice. 
 To be ready at a signal, to dash out the two lights that 
 burned in our car, each of us to seize the musket of the 
 man nearest us while the train was in motion, to secure 
 the doors, and let no one get out, or make any alarm, 
 seemed to me easy enough. Then we could have un- 
 coupled our car, and, toith the arms of our guard, 
 have started across the country towards the Union 
 lines, which could not have been more than thirty or 
 forty miles w T est of us. But George D. Wilson opposed 
 the project with all his energy. He thought we might 
 succeed, but some would probably be killed in the scuf- 
 fle, and all might be captured outside, and then our 
 case be made much worse, while by simply remaining 
 quiet, we were sure of a speedy exchange. He had 
 talked for hours with the captain of our guard, who 
 was certain that our case had been virtually decided in 
 our favor. He encouraged Wilson by saying that he 
 had heard officers high in authority say that it had 
 been necessary to execute Mr. Andrews, as he was a 
 Confederate citizen, and as an example ; but that this 1 
 was enough, and that no other would suffer anything 
 worse than possibly, if no favorable exchange could be 
 arranged, the penalty of being kept to the close of the 
 war. This, in Wilson's opinion, was not far distant. 
 Wilson's opposition made us regretfully yield the at- 
 tempt. Could the future have been foreseen our de- 
 cision would undoubtedly have been reversed. 
 
220 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Atlanta, we found, was our destination. Here, al- 
 most in the centre of the rebel States, the Confederates 
 were as yet free from interruption by Union armies. 
 Andrews bad already perished in this city, and here 
 our own fate was to be determined. As we marched, 
 with ropes bound tightly round our hands and pinion- 
 ing our arms, from the depot to the Atlanta city jail, a 
 crowd gathered around us, as usual, and a man, calling 
 himself the mayor of the city, addressed himself first 
 to Captain Fry, telling him that he knew his history 
 and would soon have the pleasure of hanging him. 
 Then turning to us, he boasted that he had put the rope 
 around Andrews' neck and was waiting and anxious to 
 do the same for us ! 
 
 The city prison was much smaller than that at Knox- 
 vile, but was quite a large edifice. The lower story 
 was occupied by the jailer and family. The upper 
 story contained four rooms, two on each side of an 
 entry, into which the staircase from below led. We, in 
 company with Captain Fry, were given one of these 
 rooms. The other Tennesseeans brought from Knox- 
 ville with us were put into another, just across the 
 entry from us. Our comrades, who had been left be- 
 hind at Chattanooga, had been in this building ever 
 since the death of Andrews, and in the third room. 
 The fourth room was on the same side as our own, and 
 had a succession of occupants, — frequently negroes who 
 had been in search of the North Star. This jail was 
 to be our home for many eventful months. 
 
 For some days our food was comparatively good and 
 abundant. Turner, the jailer, was a kind man, and, in 
 a mild way, of Union sentiments. He showed us all 
 the favor in his power, and, indeed, became so much 
 suspected that an odious old man named Thoer was 
 sent to watch him. The change in our condition was 
 at once manifest. Our fare became worse and more 
 scanty than in any former prison. The constant vigi- 
 lance of this spy kept the jailer from doing anything 
 
THE CROWNING HORROR. 221 
 
 to mitigate our sufferings. But in this prison we had 
 one great relief. Our ropes were removed and no 
 chains or handcuffs put upon us. Within our prison- 
 cell we were free. Here we remained in quiet for a 
 week, thinking the worst of our trials now over. Little 
 did we imagine how fearful a storm was about to 
 burst over us. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE CROWNING HORROR. 
 
 The event described in this chapter will never be 
 effaced from the memory of any witness. Nothing 
 more terrible or more gratuitously barbarous is recorded 
 in the annals of civilized war. The seven men of 
 whose death I am now to write were all young, — from 
 eighteen to twenty-five. With good prospects, and 
 well connected, they had entered the army at the bid- 
 ding of patriotism, ready to endure every peril to in- 
 sure the triumph of the old flag. Their only offence, 
 when stripped of all technicality, was that of accepting 
 a dangerous service proposed by their own officers. 
 They had entered on this service in the same spirit that 
 they would have obeyed an order to head a desperate 
 charge on the enemy's fortifications. Had they perished 
 in the enterprise itself, their fate would have been but 
 the common fortune of war. But more than two 
 months had passed since they had been in the power 
 of their enemies, who had repeatedly testified admira- 
 tion for their heroism, as well as for their gallant bear- 
 ing in captivity. Prominent officers had held friendly 
 conversations with them and assured them of ultimate 
 
 safety. Now, without a moment's warning But 
 
 I must not anticipate the narration. 
 
 One day — the 18th of June, 1862 — while amusing 
 
 19* 
 
222 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ourselves with games and stories in oar prison-cell, we 
 saw through the barred window a squadron of cavalry 
 approaching. This only excited a languid curiosity at 
 first, for it was a common tiling to see bodies of horse- 
 men in the streets ; but soon we saw them halt before 
 the gate of the high prison-wall and throw a line of 
 soldiers completely round the building. This was no 
 ordinary occurrence. What could it portend ? 
 
 A moment after we heard the clink of the officers' 
 swords as they ascended the prison stairway in unusual 
 numbers, while we waited the event with deep solici- 
 tude. They paused at our door, which was unlocked 
 by the jailer, and the names of the seven who had 
 been tried at Knoxville were called over, one by one, 
 and each man as he was called led out of the room. 
 Samuel Robinson was very sick with fever, and was 
 not able to rise without assistance, but two guards 
 helped him to his feet, and he was taken out with the 
 others. Then the door opposite to ours, on the other 
 side of the hall, was opened, and the Tennesseeans in 
 that room put with us, while our comrades, with the 
 whole number of officers, went into the vacated room, 
 and the door was closed. 
 
 With throbbing veins we asked one another the 
 meaning of these strange proceedings. A confused 
 sound was heard through the closed door opposite, as 
 of some one reading, but we could distinguish no 
 words. Some of us supposed they were taken in there 
 to receive their acquittal ; others, still more sanguine, 
 maintained that they were now being paroled, prepara 
 tory to an exchange. 
 
 I was also suffering with malarial fever at that time, 
 but rose to my feet oppressed with a nameless fear. A 
 half-idiotic man who was among the Tennessee prison- 
 ers came to me and wanted to play a game of cards. I 
 struck the greasy pack out of his hands, and bade him 
 leave me. 
 
 Our terrible suspense was not of long duration. The 
 
THE CROWNING HORROR. 223 
 
 door opened and George D. Wilson entered first, his 
 hands and arms firmly bound, and his face pale as 
 death, but with form erect and firm step. Some one 
 asked in a whisper a solution of the dreadful mystery, 
 for his countenance had appalled every one. 
 
 " We are to be executed immediately !" was the awful 
 reply, whispered with thrilling distinctness. 
 
 Behind him came the others, all tied, ready for the 
 scaffold ! They were to be hanged at once. Sot a day 
 nor an hour was given for preparation. From their 
 hopefulness and fancied security they were snatched in 
 a moment to die as felons ! Surely no rule of war, no 
 military necessity, no consideration of policy, required 
 such frightful and murderous haste. I have never 
 heard a word in defence of this military massacre. 
 Even Andrews, our leader, was given a week for prep- 
 aration before the execution of his sentence. The 
 most atrocious criminals are always allowed a short 
 respite. For a long time I cherished the belief that 
 some misunderstanding of orders, some terrible error, 
 and not deliberate cruelty, led to this frightful haste. 
 But the following death-sentence seems to leave no room 
 for doubt. In the very centre of the Confederacy, 
 with hundreds of troops at their disposal for guards, 
 there could have been no military necessity for hurling 
 these poor men into eternity without one hour's warn- 
 ing ! 
 
 The following is a literal copy of the death-sentence 
 read to the doomed men during the few minutes they 
 were separated from us : 
 
 " Headquarters Department East Tennessee, 
 " Knoxville, June 14, 1862. 
 
 " General Orders, No. 54. VII. 
 
 11 At a general court-martial held at Knoxville by virtue of 
 General Orders Nos. 21 and 34 (Department Headquarters, April 
 15 and May 10, 1862), whereof Lieutenant-Colonel J. B. Bibb, 
 of the Twenty-third Begiment Alabama Volunteers, was presi- 
 dent, was tried George D. Wilson, private Company ' B,' Second 
 
224 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Ohio Kegiment, on the following charge and specifications, to 
 wit: 
 
 " Charge. — Violation of Section 2d of the 101st Article of the 
 Rules and Articles of War. 
 
 " Specification 1st. — In this, that the said G-eorge D. Wilson, 
 private Company ' B,' Second Ohio Regiment, not owing allegi- 
 ance to the Confederate States of America, and being in the 
 service and army of the United States, then and now at war with 
 the Confederate States of America, did, on or about the 7th day 
 of April, 1862, leave the army of the United States, then lying 
 near Shelbyville, Tennessee, and with a company of about twenty 
 other soldiers of the United States army, ail dressed in citizen's 
 clothes, repair to Chattanooga, Tennessee, entering covertly 
 within the lines of the Confederate forces at that post, and did 
 thus, on or about the 11th day of April, 1862, lurk as a spy in 
 and about the encampment of said forces, representing himself 
 as a citizen of Kentucky going to join the Southern army. 
 
 " Specification 2d. — And the said George D. Wilson, private 
 Company ' B,' Second Ohio Regiment, U.S.A., thus dressed in 
 citizen's clothes, and representing himself as a citizen of Ken- 
 tucky going to join the Southern army, and did proceed by rail- 
 road to Marietta, Georgia, — thus covertly pass through the lines 
 of the Confederate forces stationed at Chattanooga, Dalton, and 
 Camp McDonald, and did thus, on or about the 11th day of 
 April, 1862, lurk as a spy in and about the said encampments of 
 the Confederate forces at the places stated aforesaid. 
 
 '' To which charge and specifications the prisoner plead ' Not 
 Guilty.' 
 
 " The court, after mature deliberation, find the accused as fol- 
 lows : Of the 1st specification of the charge, 'Guilty.' Of the 
 2d specification of the charge, 'Guilty,' and 'Guilty of the 
 Charge.' And the court do therefore sentence the accused, the 
 said George D. Wilson, private Company ' B,' Second Ohio Regi- 
 ment (two-thirds of the members concurring therein), as soon 
 as this order shall be made public, ' to be hung by the neck until 
 he is dead.' 
 
 " The proceedings in the foregoing case of George D. Wilson, 
 private Company 'B,' Second Ohio Regiment, are approved. 
 
 " The sentence of the court will be carried into effect between 
 the 15th and 22d days of June, inst., at such time and place as 
 may be designated by the commanding officer at Atlanta, Georgia, 
 who is charged with the arrangements for the proper execution 
 thereof 
 
 " By command of 
 
 " Major-General E. Kirby Smith. 
 
 " J. F. Breton, A.A.A.G. 
 " To Commanding Officer of post at Atlanta, Ga." 
 
 It will be noticed that the sentence was to be exe- 
 
THE CROWNING HORROR. 225 
 
 cuted as soon as made public. The time fixed was be- 
 tween the 15th and 22d days of June. This was the 
 18th. The sentence had been received the preceding 
 day, and the time employed in clearing a spot of wooded 
 ground then lying east of the city cemetery, but since 
 included in its bounds, and in erecting a scaffold there. 
 But no word of the awful preparations had been allowed 
 to reach us. According to the orders of General E. 
 Kir by Smith, several days' respite might have been al- 
 lowed ; but in a communication to the Confederate Sec- 
 retary of War, Colonel G. I. Foreacre, post-commander 
 at Atlanta, says, " General Smith only sent from Knox- 
 ville instructions and orders to have seven of them 
 hung, which was promptly attended to by myself." 
 
 After the sentences had been read came the farewells, 
 — which, in their full meaning, we could scarcely rea- 
 lize, — farewells with no hope of meeting again in this 
 world ! Our comrades were dear as brothers to us, and 
 to stand helpless while they were dragged away to the 
 scaffold froze our blood and crushed our hearts. 
 
 These doomed men were brave. On the battle-field 
 they had never faltered in the presence of danger. 
 They were ready to die, if need were, for their country ; 
 but to die on the scaffold, — to die as murderers die, — 
 this was almost too much for human nature to endure. 
 
 Then, too, they were destitute of the best support a 
 man can have in the presence of death. Although 
 most of them had been of excellent moral character, 
 yet they had no firmly-grounded religious hope. The 
 near prospect of eternity, into which they were thus to 
 be hurled without a moment's preparation, was black 
 and appalling. Wilson had been a professed disbe- 
 liever in revelation, and many a time had argued with 
 me for hours at a time. But in this awful' moment he 
 said to me, " Pittenger, I believe you are right now ! 
 Oh, try to be better prepared, when your turn comes to 
 die, than I am !" Then laying his hand on my head, 
 with a muttered " God bless you !" we parted. I saw 
 P 
 
226 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 no more the one I had loved and trusted as few others 
 in the world. 
 
 Shadrack was profane in speech and reckless in ac- 
 tion, but withal exceeding kind-hearted, lovable, and 
 always merry. Now turning to us with a voice the 
 forced calmness of which was more affecting than a 
 wail of agony, he said, " Boys, I am not prepared to 
 meet my Jesus." When asked by some of us, in tears, 
 to trust in His mercy, and to think of heaven, he an- 
 swered, still in % tones of thrilling calmness, "I'll try! 
 I'll try ! But I know I am not prepared." 
 
 Samuel Slavens, who was a man of immense strength 
 and iron resolution, turned to his friend Buffum, and 
 could only articulate, " Wife — children — tell — " when 
 utterance failed. 
 
 John Scott had been married only three days before 
 he came to the army, and the thought of his young and 
 sorrowing wife nearly drove him to despair. He could 
 only clasp his hands in silent agony. 
 
 William Campbell smiled grimly as we pressed his 
 bound hands, and said in response to our declarations, 
 " Yes, boys, this is hard." 
 
 Marion Ross bore himself most firmly of all. He 
 had been more gloomy and depressed than any other 
 member of the party previously, and did not seem to 
 share fully in our hopes. Now his eyes beamed with 
 unnatural light, and there was not a tremor in his voice 
 as he said, in full, clear tones, " Tell them at home, if 
 any of you should escape, that I died for my country, 
 and did not regret it." 
 
 These parting words occupied but a moment, and 
 even then the officers standing in the door seemed im- 
 patient to finish their horrible work ! 
 
 In this manner the poor men were hurried to their 
 doom. Several of them, in passing, had the privilege 
 of shaking hands with our comrades in the other room. 
 Robinson, though too sick to walk, was dragged away 
 with them. 
 
THE CROWNING HORROR. 227 
 
 Tims we parted. The rough wagon, with a wood- 
 Tack for a bed, drove off with our comrades, surrounded 
 by cavalry. In about an hour it came back, empty. 
 The deed of shame was done. 
 
 Later in the evening the provost-marshal came to 
 our door, and, in response to eager questions, informed 
 us that our friends " had met their fate as brave men 
 should die everywhere." 
 
 The next day we obtained from the guards, who, in 
 the absence of their officers, were always willing to 
 talk with us, full particulars of the sevenfold murder. 
 
 When all had been mounted on the scaffold Wilson 
 asked permission to say a few words, whicji was granted, 
 — probably in the hope of hearing some kind of a con- 
 fession. If such was the expectation, they were much 
 disappointed. It was a strange scene, — a dying speech 
 to a desperate audience, and under the most terrible 
 •circumstances conceivable. 
 
 But Wilson was equal to the occasion, and when he 
 had once begun to speak, the force of his words was 
 such that the mob remained silent, making no attempt 
 to interrupt him. Unterrified by the near approach 
 of death, he spoke his mind freely. He told the rebels 
 that they were all in the wrong, that he had no hard 
 feelings towards the Southern people for what they 
 w r ere about to do, because they had been duped by their 
 leaders, and induced by them to engage in the work 
 of rebellion. He also said that though he had been 
 condemned as a spy, yet he was none, and they well 
 knew it. He was only a soldier in the performance 
 of the work he had been detailed to do; that he did 
 not regret to die for his country, but only regretted the 
 manner of his death. He concluded by assuring them 
 in prophetic words that they would yet live to regret 
 the part they had taken in this rebellion, and would 
 ■see the flag of our country wave in triumph over the 
 very ground occupi-ed by his scaffold. 
 
 This address made a deep impression on the minds 
 
228 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 of all who listened, and I often afterwards heard it 
 spoken of in terms of deepest admiration. When he 
 ceased the signal was given, and the traps fell ! 
 
 Then followed one of the disgusting exhibition;: 
 which so often disgrace all kinds of public executions. 
 Five only remained dangling in the air. Campbell 
 and Slavens, being very heavy, broke their ropes, and 
 fell to the ground insensible. When they revived, 
 they asked and received a drink of water. Then they 
 requested an hour to pray before entering the future 
 world. This most reasonable petition, which would 
 not have been denied to the most hardened murderer 
 under civilized rule, was sternly denied, as if they 
 wished to do their utmost to murder both soul and 
 body. As soon as the ropes could be readjusted they 
 were compelled to mount the scaffold once more, and 
 were again turned off. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PRISON RELIGION. 
 
 The afternoon following the execution of our brave 
 comrades was one of indescribable sorrow, gloom, and 
 fear. We knew not how soon we might be compelled 
 to follow in the same path and drink the same bitter 
 cup. As has been before narrated, we had offered at 
 Knoxville to accept the award of the court in one of 
 the cases as the sentence of all, since there was not the 
 slightest difference among us. At that time, however, 
 we were confident of acquittal. Now that confidence 
 had utterly vanished, and no one of our number antici- 
 pated anything but speedy death on the scaffold. 
 
 But even without the addition of apprehension for 
 ourselves, the parting from our loved friends, whose 
 voices were still ringing in our ears, while thev them- 
 
PRISON RELIGION. 229 
 
 selves had passed beyond the gates of death into the 
 unknown land of shadows, was enough to rend the 
 stoutest heart. Few words were spoken, but tears and 
 sobs were frequent. 
 
 I could not shed a tear. A fierce fever burned in 
 my veins, and my head seemed as if on fire. For 
 hours I scarcely knew where I was, or the loss I had 
 sustained. Every glance around the room, which re- 
 vealed the vacant place of our friends, would bring 
 our sorrow in a new wave upon us again. Slowly the 
 afternoon wore on in grief too deep for words, and 
 despair too black for hope. 
 
 At last some voice suggested prayer. We had no 
 chaplain, and few of us were professedly religious, but 
 the very thought of prayer seemed to bring relief, and 
 was eagerly accepted. We knelt around the bare 
 prison-walls, as so many prisoners have done before, 
 and tried to draw near to God. We felt as if already 
 cut oif from the world. Captain Fry first prayed 
 aloud. His voice was broken by sobs, but he did not 
 now pray for the first time, and we felt our faith lean- 
 ing on his as he poured out strong supplications for 
 that Almighty help we so sorely needed. He prayed 
 that God's love might be revealed to us, and that, we 
 might be able to trust the Saviour even on the gallows. 
 When he ceased another took up the thread of petition. 
 After him, another and another followed, until all but 
 two had prayed aloud, and even these were kneeling 
 and sobbing with the rest. As the twilight deepened, 
 our devotional exercises grew more solemn. In the 
 lonely shadow of coming night, with eternity thus 
 tangibly open before us, and standing on its very 
 brink, we prayed with inconceivable fervor. These 
 exercises continued far into the night, and wrought 
 their effect deeply in our hearts. From that night I 
 recognized God's right tc ny allegiance. I did accept 
 Christ as my Saviour, and determined to confess His 
 .name before men, whether I lived or died. This reso- 
 
 20 
 
230 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 lution in my own case — and I doubt not the same re- 
 sult was produced in other hearts — restored the forti- 
 tude that had been so rudely shaken, and I felt nerved 
 for any fate. Strangely enough, with this resignation 
 to the worst came the glimmer of a hope, unfelt befcre, 
 that possibly life might yet be spared. 
 
 This hour wrought a complete and permanent change 
 in the routine of our prison-life. Games, sports, and 
 stories were no longer our leading pursuits. The cards 
 we had been accustomed to play for pastime only — an 
 old greasy pack obtained from the compassion of some 
 soldier on guard — were thrown out of the window, and 
 that game given up forever. Each morning and each 
 evening we had a prayer-meeting, — not simply a single 
 prayer, but all praying in turn. We asked for and 
 obtained a Bible from the jailer, and read a chapter or 
 more as part of our exercises, and sang hymns, so that 
 our meetings became as much like those we had wit- 
 nessed in the distant but never forgotten days of freedom 
 as we could make them. There was wonderful pathos in 
 the very rudeness of the singing, for our sweetest voices 
 were silent in death. The remark was often made, 
 " If Ross was only here to lead the singing !" The 
 one who read the Bible lesson was considered the leader 
 of the meeting, and, for a time, we took this position 
 by turns. In place of " Do they miss me at Home ?" 
 we sang the more inspiring and helpful "Jesus, Lover 
 of my Soul," and " Rock of Ages/' The jailer, the 
 guards, and all who came near the prison noticed the 
 great change. 
 
 I had one peculiar difficulty which, to many readers, 
 will appear almost whimsical, but to me was most real. 
 Our hope of ever regaining liberty, or even preserv- 
 ing our lives much longer, was but slight; yet my 
 greatest difficulty in finding satisfactory religious con- 
 solation had reference to a possible release. I had been 
 a diligent law student, and had managed to continue 
 the study even in the army and in prison. But now it. 
 
PJUSON RELIGION. 231 
 
 was impressed upon my mind, with daily increasing 
 force, that I must submit the decision of my future 
 career to God. If I took this matter into my own 
 hands, I could not feel that I was completely true to 
 Him. Underlying this feeling was the further con- 
 viction that if I made such a submission of my future 
 profession to God I would be led into the ministry, and 
 the thought of this was very repulsive. Yet the longer 
 che struggle continued the plainer duty became. If I 
 gave myself to Christ, it seemed a necessary consequence 
 that I should accept any work He gave me to do. If 
 [ feared that He would guide me in a certain direction, 
 this was sure proof that I was not resigned to His will, 
 and, according to my views, not a true Christian. At 
 last the choice was made, — I resolved to follow my 
 sense of duty, no matter where that should lead, — to 
 the ministry or anywhere else. When this conflict was 
 over there was no great emotional excitement, — only a 
 sense of peace and rest. I could wait calmly in the 
 prison until led forth to die, if such should be my 
 doom, and then go forth out of life feeling that I was 
 loyal to God, and that I should remain His, into what- 
 ever worlds the gate of death should open. If, con- 
 trary to all probability, the prison-gate should open for 
 my passage back into the free world, from which I 
 seemed almost as effectually separated as if death had 
 already intervened, I promised still to be loyal to Him. 
 This was the essence of the inward change I date from 
 that time. My standard of action before had been 
 pleasure, inclination, the world's notion of honor and 
 morality. Even this had not been held too strictly, as 
 the reader of these pages has discovered. But after- 
 wards, however imperfectly maintained, my standard 
 became the will of God, as revealed in the Bible, and 
 my own sense of duty as enlightened by His Spirit. 
 No great joy, such as is often expressed in conversion, 
 r :ame at first. But it was even better than any joy to 
 feel that I now had a strong arm upon which I could 
 
232 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 lean, — that there was one person to whom I could go 
 at any time, and who was not indifferent to my fate. 
 
 I now read the Bible with a clear purpose, and with 
 a light on its pages that never before beamed there. Its 
 very history was full of new meaning. Its grand be- 
 ginning, the growth of wandering tribes into great em- 
 pires, the pathos of the Psalms, the sublimity and eternal 
 hope of the prophecies, and, above all, the life and death 
 of that loving and lowly man who was greater than 
 Psalmist or Prophet, — all these passed before me in the 
 old Atlanta jail, until the place seemed like a new isle of 
 Patmos. I had a strong bent towards scepticism, though 
 I had not yielded to it, and found it hard to exercise sim- 
 ple faith in all the Word of God. But, little by little, my 
 doubts became weaker and my conviction of truth clearer. 
 
 For a considerable time the whole of our party took 
 turns in the leadership of our devotions, but finally 
 this work devolved on the writer, and, after some 
 months, the guards and other prisoners began to call 
 me the " preacher," though, as yet, I was a member of 
 no church, unless our prison band can be dignified by 
 that title. 
 
 Two Southern ministers visited us at this period. 
 The first requested permission of the guard, and was 
 allowed to enter with the express provision that his 
 conversation should be confined to religious topics. 
 His name was Scott, but I am not sure what denomi- 
 nation he belonged to, and his conversation gave no 
 clue. His first question did not contribute to a good 
 understanding. He asked how we could be so wicked 
 as to enter the Federal army, to fight against the Soutl - 
 ern people and free their negroes? We were soriy 
 enough about many things, but had not yet repented 
 of those particular sins, and therefore answered a little 
 tartly, by asking how he and his friends could be so 
 wicked as to rebel against a good government? A 
 heated dispute followed. Our visitor talked so loudly 
 and vehemently that the officer of the guard entered 
 
PBISON RELIGION. 233 
 
 and told him that he " had given those men religious 
 counsel enough for one time and had better leave." He 
 never came again, and we were not sorry. 
 
 Our jailer, Mr. Turner, had a very kindly feeling 
 towards us, and hearing us so often singing and praying, 
 asked if we would not like to talk with a minister. 
 Knowing that ministers were not all alike, we assented. 
 Rev. George G. N. MacDonell, of the M. E. Church 
 South, then visited us. We were glad to see him, and 
 a very profitable conversation took place. A little 
 offence was occasioned by his first prayer, in which he 
 petitioned that our lives might be spared, if consistent 
 with the interests of the Confederacy. But we made no 
 comment, and were richlv rewarded for our com- 
 plaeency. He not only gave us Christian sympathy 
 and counsel above all value, but on leaving sent us 
 some excellent books. When the first lot of books was 
 finished — of which we took the best of care, reading' 
 most of them aloud — we returned them, and received 
 others, — continuing the process of borrowing until we 
 had perused nearly the whole of the good man's 
 library. Only those who know what a terrible trial 
 it is to pass day after day with no definite employ- 
 ment, no company, and no means of diverting thought 
 from one never-ending round, can form any idea of the 
 great boon thus bestowed upon us. The Christian 
 kindness and disinterested benevolence of this min- 
 ister will never be forgotten. But even these books 
 were not sufficient. I sold my vest — not expecting 
 to live until cold weather — and my pocket-book, — 
 which my captors had left when they took all its con- 
 tents, — and with the proceeds the jailer bought me 
 three little books— all gems, — " Paradise Lost," " Pil- 
 grim's Progress," and Pollok's " Course of Time." 
 These I deliberately set to work to memorize. It was 
 a pleasant and profitable employment, helping very 
 much to shorten those interminable days. 
 
 Our room was of greater size than that in Chatta- 
 
 20* 
 
234 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 nooga ; the windows larger, and our number reduced ; 
 yet the heat was fearfully oppressive. One of the 
 party, Mark Wood, was very sick. He had been pros- 
 trated with fever for nearly a month, and at this time 
 his life was despaired of. This was not thought by the 
 others to be any great misfortune to him, and they ac- 
 cordingly administered consolation in a style worthy 
 the best of Job's friends. They would say, " Now, 
 Wood, I wouldn't try to get well, if I were in your 
 place. They will only hang you if you do. Better 
 try to die and save them the trouble." Wood, how- 
 ever, did not relish this counsel, and, becoming con- 
 trary, he recovered, "just for spite," as he often de- 
 clared. 
 
 The black waiters of the prison were very friendly. 
 They assisted us by every means in their power, and 
 seemed willing to take any personal risk on our behalf. 
 It was not long before they found that we desired few 
 things so much as to read the news, and they tasked 
 their ingenuity to gratify us. Newspapers were pro- 
 hibited, as they had not been at Knoxville. But the 
 waiters would watch until the jailer or some of the 
 guard had finished reading a paper and laid it down, 
 when they would slyly purloin it, put it into the 
 bottom of the pan in which our food was brought, 
 and thus hand it to us unsuspected. It had to be re- 
 turned in the same way to avoid suspicion. Our min- 
 isterial friend also, as he acquired confidence in us, 
 gave us reason to think that he was not so much de- 
 voted to the Confederacy as his first prayer (made 
 in hearing of the guard) indicated. He asked per- 
 mission of the jailer to give us some old files of re- 
 ligious papers, and sent in a bundle weekly, or oftener. 
 They were acceptable, but their value greatly increased 
 when we found that an old religious paper might have 
 a new daily folded carefully inside ! These acts of 
 friendship were deeply grateful to us, and lightened 
 many a weary hour. 
 
PRISON RELIGION. 235 
 
 One morning our jailer came to our door and asked 
 if we knew John Wollam. We were startled, and 
 hesitated to answer. For three weeks we had heard 
 nothing of Wollam, and hoped that one member of our 
 devoted band had escaped. Now we knew that the 
 jailer was in possession of some news, and while we 
 burned to hear it, we feared the possibility of doing 
 Wollam an injury by acknowledging the acquaintance. 
 But while we deliberated John himself came up, and 
 put an end to our doubts by greeting us heartily. The 
 door was unlocked, and he entered. All the survivors 
 of our party were now together, as those who had been 
 separated from us at Chattanooga were put into our 
 room immediately after the execution of our comrades. 
 Our number, including Captain Fry, who remained in 
 our room, was fifteen. 
 
 The first thing in order, when left alone, was for 
 John to tell us all his adventures from the time he and 
 Andrews had broken out of the Chattanooga dungeon. 
 He was fired upon while still suspended in the air by 
 the blankets upon which he was descending, but for- 
 tunately the hands of the guards were too unsteady to 
 inflict any injury. He succeeded in getting safely to 
 the ground, and then out of the prison-yard and through 
 the guard-line. 
 
 In his efforts to escape Wollam displayed qualities 
 which would have done credit to an Indian. A few 
 moments' running brought him down to the river-side 
 in advance of all pursuers. Finding no means of 
 crossing, the brilliant thought struck him of making 
 his enemies believe he had crossed. This idea was in- 
 stantly acted on. He threw off his coat and vest, 
 dropping them on the bank of the river, and then 
 walked a few rods in the water to throw any hounds 
 that might be following off his track. He next slipped 
 quietly back and hid in a dense thicket of canes and 
 rushes. He heard his pursuers on the bank above hirn,. 
 and all around, talking of their various plans. At last 
 
236 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 they found the clothes, and at once concluded that he 
 had taken to the river. Accordingly they ferried the 
 blood-hounds to the other side, and searched for the 
 place of his exit from the water. As might be ex- 
 pected, the dogs were unable to find that, and after a 
 ilue time spent in consultation, the Confederates con- 
 cluded that he had been drowned and gave over the 
 search. 
 
 Wollani spent the day in great anxiety, but night 
 gave him the opportunity of leaving his hiding-place. 
 He made his way cautiously down the river on the 
 Chattanooga side for some miles. At length he found 
 a canoe, in which he drifted down the stream by night, 
 while hiding it and himself in the bushes by day. On 
 two occasions he would have been saved if he had only 
 known it. General Mitchel had captured a steam- 
 boat and fitted it up as a cruiser, with which he patrolled 
 the river as far as his lines extended. In his night- 
 voyaging Wollam passed this extemporized gunboat 
 twice, but fearing that it was some rebel craft, he crept 
 quietly by in the shadow 7 of the shore without discovery. 
 
 At length he felt sure that he was inside the Union 
 lines, and beyond the probable danger of capture, 
 and therefore ventured boldly forward in the daytime. 
 This was a fatal mistake. The danger of capture is 
 never so great as in the debatable ground between two 
 armies, where both exercise their utmost vigilance. 
 This boundary in most cases is also a shifting one. It 
 was so in this instance. A band of rebel cavalry on the 
 bhore saw the lonely voyager, and, riding on ahead, pro- 
 cured a boat and came out to meet him. He was un- 
 able to escape, and thus the poor fellow was captured on 
 the very brink of safety. As usual, he tried to persuade 
 them that he was a Confederate, but unfortunately a 
 certain Lieutenant Edwards, who had assisted in his 
 previous capture, happened to be present, and at once 
 recognized him by his bold and reckless bearing. He 
 was then taken to join us at Atlanta. 
 
PRISON RELIGION. 237 
 
 Our provisions here became worse and less, until the 
 starvation point was very nearly reached. Constant 
 hunger was one of the torments of our life. We only 
 received a very small fragment of half-baked corn- 
 bread, without salt, and a morsel of pork, — the latter 
 always spoiled, and frequently covered with maggots. 
 But none of it was wasted ! Several had very little 
 appetite, because of malarial or intermittent fever. 
 The allowance of such food was abundant for these, 
 but the others ate all that the sick spared. Many a 
 Barmecide feast was spread by the description of rich 
 dainties that would be enjoyed if u at home" once more ; 
 and what was even worse, the same banquets would 
 be spread in dreams, from which the tantalized sleep- 
 ers awoke more hungry and miserable than ever. I 
 am not sure that the aching head and burning fever 
 were more painful than the constant pangs of unsatis- 
 fied hunger. However, I need not linger over these 
 details. In the mere matter of starving I presume we 
 suffered no more than thousands of our fellow-soldiers 
 in Andersonville and other prisons. Alfred Wilson, 
 whose iron constitution bore up well under all hard- 
 ships, and whose appetite was always good enough for 
 all the rations of every kind he could get, felt these 
 privations most keenly. He says of the food that it was 
 u almost enough to convulse the stomach of a hungry 
 dog. I have found by experience, and I think I will 
 be corroborated by all the men who have been in rebel 
 prisons and have suffered the protracted pangs of hunger 
 and starvation, that man, when forced to it, is as raven- 
 ous, reckless, unreasonable, and brutish in his appetite 
 as the lowest order of animal creation." In other 
 prisons, it was not uncommon for the inmates to fight 
 over their miserable allowance ; but our common sym- 
 pathy and discipline were so strong that few disputes 
 arose, and these were quickly settled by the general 
 voice. The religious influence that had grown up 
 in our midst also tended powerfully to prevent any 
 
238 CAPTURISG A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 interference of the stronger with the rights of the 
 weaker. 
 
 Indeed, the completeness of our voluntary discipline 
 and the systematic manner in which we employed our 
 time was little less than marvellous. To sleep was 
 always in order, when possible, but the disposal oi 
 waking hours was not left to the will of each person. 
 The only game permitted was that of checkers or drafts, 
 and over the rude board carved on the floor eager play- 
 ers bent during all the hours allotted to amusement. 
 Then we had a couple of hours daily for debating, and 
 discussed questions of every kind. No little ingenuity 
 and skill were thus exercised. Often great political 
 questions occupied our attention, and evoked real and 
 strong differences of opinion. Strange as it may seem, 
 there were but two of us— BufFum and myself — who 
 avowed ourselves out and out abolitionists. The name 
 had not yet lost all its reproach, but we held our own 
 in argument, especially when we pointed out the natural 
 result of slaverv in making men barbarous and in- 
 human even to whites, as illustrated in our condition. 
 That argument never failed to give us the advantage ! 
 
 We also set aside two hours in the forenoon and two 
 in the afternoon for reading. During this time not so 
 much as a whisper was permitted, and few schools have 
 kept better discipline. Any one not wishing to read 
 was permitted to sleep or occupy himself in any quiet 
 manner. Frequently some one was selected to read 
 aloud for a time, but this only took place by general 
 consent, that those who wished to read silently might 
 be undisturbed. The extraordinary character of these 
 exercises will be better appreciated when it is remem- 
 bered that we had no " light reading." but mainly the- 
 ological works, with a few volumes of travels, biogra- 
 phy, and poetry, — -just what the good minister's library 
 could furnish, for we read everything we could get. 
 The Bible was not forgotten. When the supply of 
 books ran short, we resorted to our memories. All the 
 
PRISON RELIGION. 239 
 
 prominent incidents of our lives had been told in our 
 terribly close association, and we next began to repeat 
 for the common benefit the books we had read so far as 
 we could remember them. One night about dark I 
 began to tell something about a weird book I had read 
 a few months previously. A few questions elicited 
 fuller detail, and it was after midnight before the story 
 was finished. Buffum, especially, was so deeply im- 
 pressed that when released he took the earliest oppor- 
 tunity of getting and reading the volume, but he gave 
 me a great compliment by saying that the original was 
 not half so good as the copy. The changed circum- 
 stances, perhaps, made a more natural, if less flattering, 
 explanation of his diminished interest. We also had 
 our regular hours for gymnastic exercise, — wrestling, 
 boxing, acrobatic feats, etc. One of our party, Haw- 
 kins, having once been connected with a circus, now 
 trained us in all the exercises that our enfeebled con- 
 dition and close quarters permitted. Much of the 
 health and vigor that we retained during so long an 
 imprisonment was due to our systematic and diversified 
 employments. 
 
 This careful division of time, and endeavor after 
 constant employment, was, doubtless, of great advan- 
 tage, but it could not change the fact that we were close 
 prisoners in a stifling room, and far from our home. 
 Those summer days, as month after month glided away, 
 were terribly long and oppressive. The tediousness and 
 vain longing for action pressed upon us more and more 
 closelv. We fought the dreadful weight with all the 
 strength of our wills, but even will-power grew feebler. 
 The engineer Brown, who was one of the most restless 
 of mortals, all nerve and fire in action, capable of en- 
 during tremendous hardship if it were only of an active 
 character, would pace the floor back and forth like a 
 caged tiger ; when this, too, grew unendurable, he 
 would stop at the door, shake its woven iron bars till 
 they rang again, and say in the most piteous tones (of 
 
240 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 coarse, meant only for us to hear), " Oh, kind sir, please 
 let me out ! I want to go home !" The feeling he 
 expressed was shared by all. Never before could I 
 realize the full value of liberty and the horror of con- 
 finement. In previous prisons the novelty of our sit- 
 uation, the frequent removals, the painful excitement 
 of trials, prevented the blank monotony of imprison- 
 ment from settling down upon us as it did here, after 
 the first few weeks of our stay in Atlanta rolled by, 
 and no whisper regarding our probable fate reached us. 
 It was like the stillness and death that brood over the 
 Dead Sea ! 
 
 We would sit at the windows in the sultry noon and 
 look out through the bars at the free birds as they flew 
 past, seemingly so full of joyous life, and foolishly wish 
 that we were birds, that we, too, might fly far away and 
 be free. 
 
 At long intervals, two of us at a time would be per- 
 mitted to go down into the jail-yard to do some wash- 
 ing for ourselves and the party. This great privilege 
 came round to me at last. It was then three months 
 since I had stepped out of that prison room, and the 
 unobscured vision of open air and sky made it seem 
 like another world. I remember looking up at the 
 snowy clouds, my eyes dazzled by the unusual light, 
 and wondering, as I gazed in admiration upon their 
 beautiful and changing forms, whether beyond them 
 lay a world of rest in which there were neither wars 
 nor prisons. Oh, how I longed for freedom ! to be 
 where I could look up at the sky every day and go 
 where I wished ! Yet with the thought came a great 
 fear. If I was ever removed from the pressure of im- 
 mediate danger, and allowed to mingle in the interests 
 and cares of the thronging world, might I not forget 
 my prison-made vows and lose my claim to the world 
 beyond the clouds and stars ? Such a sense of weak- 
 ness and helplessness came over me that I felt greatly 
 relieved when, my task being done, I was conducted 
 
PRISON RELIGION. 241 
 
 back to the dark and narrow prison room, where the 
 contrast between freedom and bondage was less palpa- 
 ble ! 
 
 All this time we hardly permitted ourselves to in- 
 dulge a hope of getting home again. The friends we 
 had known in happier days were separated from us by 
 an impassable gulf; and when fancy called round us 
 the loved scenes and friends at home, it was like tread- 
 ing upon forbidden ground. But when the long day 
 had dragged its hours away, when we were weary with 
 fighting against weariness, the night removed every re- 
 straint, and for a few golden hours love and freedom 
 were ours again. 
 
 Often in dreams have I seen the streets and build- 
 ings of my own town rise before me, and have felt a 
 thrilling pleasure in contemplating each feature of the 
 landscape around as I wended my way in fancy towards 
 the old log cabin forever consecrated by affection. But 
 the waking from such dreams of earthly paradise was 
 sad beyond measure. The evening hour, when the 
 burning heat had abated, and when we were settling to 
 rest, — though it was on the bare floor, and without even 
 a stone like that upon which Jacob pillowed his head, 
 — was our happiest time. Then prayer and song and 
 more cheerful conversation prepared us for rest and 
 often for happy dreams. But the morning hours, when 
 we wakened, hungry, sore, unrefreshed, with no food 
 but our miserable bit of vile bread and spoiled meat, 
 and a long day to look forward to, — these were always 
 dreary. After prayers, and our apology for a break- 
 fast, we grew more cheerful, and again took up the 
 tisk of living. 
 
 An anecdote here will fitly illustrate the affection and 
 exaggerated reverence felt for what we, to the great 
 annoyance of the guards and citizens, persisted in call- 
 ing " God's country." I had been reading aloud a ser- 
 mon of Bishop Bascom's, from a book loaned us by 
 our friend, the minister. The topic was " The Joys of 
 L q 21 
 
■242 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Heaven." All listened with delight to his magnificent 
 descriptions, but when the reading closed, engineer 
 Brown, who was of a matter-of-fact disposition, asked, 
 u Now, candidly, boys, would you rather be in heaven, 
 safe from all harm, if it is as good as the preacher says, 
 or be in Cincinnati?" This roused a very animated 
 discussion, but at its conclusion, when we took a vote 
 on the subject, the majority decided, honestly, no doubt, 
 that they would rather be in Cincinnati, — for a while, 
 at least ! 
 
 The expedients to which the tobacco-chewers of our 
 party were driven to obtain a supply of "the weed" 
 were at once amusing and pathetic. They were even 
 more eager for it than for their food. They begged 
 from the negroes, jailer, guards, visitors, — anybody 
 who could supply the valued article. The little they 
 got was husbanded with the utmost care. One chew- 
 ing was not sufficient. No " quids" were thrown away, 
 but carefully laid up, dried, and again used. When 
 no more narcotic could be so extracted, they were once 
 more dried and smoked in cob pipes ! 
 
 When Andrews broke out of the Chattanooga jail, 
 lie gave Hawkins a large, fine coat, which was too 
 heavy to be carried. This was now sold to the jailer, 
 and the proceeds furnished quite a treat of provisions. 
 
 We found some diversion in opening secret commu- 
 nication with every room in the prison. Those on the 
 opposite side of the entry w r ere reached by means of a 
 small stick, which was shot from the crack under one 
 door 1 3 the corresponding crack under the other. Each 
 door was double, — one thickness of heavy wood, which 
 was shut only at night, and precluded all communica- 
 tion ; the other of light iron bars. A string tied to the 
 stick pulled over any message we might desire to send. 
 Between our room and the other on the same side of 
 the hall there was an unused chimney, into which 
 stove-pipes led on each side. By removing the elbows 
 we could talk through, but there was the danger of 
 
PRISON RELIGION. 243 
 
 being overheard. To remedy that, a long lath was 
 forced off the side of our room in such a way that it 
 30iild be put back again when desired, and this was 
 used in passing notes back and forth through this con- 
 cealed passage. This "telegraph" was very useful 
 when we afterwards undertook an escape. 
 
 I can preserve no order of time in relating the events 
 *)f these tedious months, which slowly rolled away 
 their ponderous length. It was an almost perfect iso- 
 lation from the world, with little hope of ever again 
 mingling in its busy currents. As each month closed, 
 we were startled by the thought that we were still 
 alive, — that the thunder-bolt had not yet descended, — 
 and we surmised and wondered how much longer it 
 could be delayed. At last a small ray of hope began to 
 rise, very feeble at first, and based only upon the incom- 
 prehensible reprieve we were enjoying. As week after 
 week glided away eventless — marked only by the mo- 
 notony that is more wearying to heart and brain than 
 the most severe anguish — this hope grew stronger; 
 though it was so little assured that the most trifling 
 circumstance — such as the strengthening of the guard, 
 or the visit of an army official — was sufficient for the 
 time to overturn it. It was the 12th of June when we 
 entered that room. It was the 18th of October before 
 we left it amid events of the most startling character, 
 which will form a fit topic for a new chapter. 
 
244 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LIBERTY OR DEATH? 
 
 One morning the guard brought up four Federal 
 soldiers, who were shut up in the front room. As soon 
 as we were alone we resorted to our usual method of 
 telegraphing to learn who they w r ere. To our great 
 surprise and pleasure we found that two of them — 
 Coleman and Helbling — were of the Tenth Wisconsin, 
 a regiment of our own brigade. They gave us many 
 most interesting items of news, — among others, that 
 our comrades had long since given us up for dead, and 
 were vowing vengeance on our behalf. They were 
 greatly surprised to find so many of us still alive. 
 The other two were of the regular army, who had been 
 captured on the coast of Florida. They remained with 
 us until we were taken to Richmond long after. From 
 them we gained a complete detail of the movements 
 of our army since our departure. We were greatly 
 grieved to find the military situation far less favorable 
 than it had been four months before. The transfer of 
 General Mitchel from Tennessee to the Atlantic coast 
 we also regarded as unfavorable to our interests. 
 These soldiers were the means shortly of leading us to 
 a desperate resolution. 
 
 We frequently talked and plotted about escape. This 
 is the one topic that prisoners never weary of. We long 
 before resolved that if any movement was made towards 
 a court-martial, we would make one desperate effort 
 for life; for j;he result of the trials in the case of An- 
 drews and our poor comrades assured us that this for- 
 mality would not be undertaken for any other purpose 
 than that of putting us to death, under a show of law. 
 After the lapse of a considerable time we had hopes 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 245 
 
 that the} 7 " would not dispense with this ceremony, and 
 that we would thus have warning which might be use- 
 ful. But many of our number — those especially who 
 were vigorous in health, and, therefore, were more 
 ready for action — wished to make the attempt at any 
 rate. But time rolled on, and the dreaded prepara- 
 tions for a trial were not made. Why we were left in 
 this uncertain condition for four months we could not 
 tell. It might be that, in the rush of military events, 
 we were forgotten, or it might be that the rebel author- 
 ities considered the hanging of eia^ht men as sufficient 
 to show their estimate of the enormity of our crime. 
 This latter view grew upon the minds of some to such 
 a degree that we boldly resolved to test it, even if it 
 did bring our fate more swiftly upon us, — resolving 
 that if our action should result in calling a court- 
 martial we would then break from our prison or die 
 in the attempt. Indeed, the scanty fare, the uncer- 
 tainty, and the longing for liberty had become so com- 
 pletely unendurable, that the prospects of perishing on 
 the bayonets of the guard had little terror. But our 
 resolution was to write a letter directly to Jefferson 
 Davis, the President of the Confederacy, reciting our 
 case, and asking to be put on the footing of prisoners of 
 war. I acted as scribe, and used language as strong 
 and yet respectful as possible. While writing, the whole 
 party gathered around, and volunteered suggestions. 
 Said Brown, " Be very humble to him, Pittenger. We 
 can take all back, if we get out." Buffum raised quite 
 a laugh by saying, " Tell him, Pittenger, that ' all we 
 ask is to be let alone.' " This was an extract from one 
 of Jefferson Davis' own addresses. But it did not go 
 in the letter. The following is a copy of the document, 
 obtained from the Confederate archives : 
 
 "Atlanta Jail, August 17. 1862. 
 il To His Excellency Jefferson Davis, 
 
 " President Confederate States of America. 
 " Respected Sir, — We are United States soldiers regularly 
 •detailed from our command to ohev the orders of Andrews. He 
 
 21* 
 
246 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 was a stranger to us, and we ignorant of his design, but, of course,, 
 we obeyed our officers. You are no doubt familiar with all we' 
 did, or can find it recorded in the trial of our comrades. Since 
 then, Andrews himself and seven of us have been executed, and 
 fourteen survive. Is this not enough for vengeance and for a 
 warning to others? Would mercy in our case be misplaced? 
 We have already been closely confined for more than four 
 months. Will you not, sir, display a noble generosity by put- 
 ting us on the same footing as prisoners of war, and permitting 
 us to be exchanged, and thus show that in this terrible war tho 
 South still feels the claim of mercy and humanity? 
 
 " If you will be so good as to grant this request we will eve 
 be grateful to you. 
 
 " Please inform us of your decision as soon as convenient." 
 
 Signed by all the survivors, — eight of the Twenty- 
 first Ohio, one of the Second, and five of the Thirty- 
 third, all of Sill's brigade, Mitchel's division. 
 
 This paper was forwarded from one officer to another 
 in an ascending grade, and the indorsements on it, and 
 the correspondence which followed, shed much light 
 upon the position and fortunes of our party. But this 
 light did not come to us until long after. 
 
 The letter was marked (erroneously as to its address),, 
 as follows : 
 
 " Petition from the survivors of Andrews* party, who took the 
 engine on the Georgia State Railroad in April last, to Major- 
 General Bragg, commanding Department No. 2." 
 
 The first indorsement is that of Colonel Lee, provost- 
 marshal at Atlanta : 
 
 " Respectfullv forwarded to General Staughton. 
 
 "G. W. Lee, 
 
 ' Commanding Post." 
 
 ' Headquarters Department No 2, 
 " Chattanooga, August 21, 1862 
 "Adjutant-General C. S. Army, Richmond, Va. 
 
 " Sir, — I have the honor to inclose herewith the petition of 
 W. W. Brown and others, soldiers of the Twenty-first and Second 
 Ohio Regiments, U.S.A., and to request information in the mat- 
 ter. I am, sir, very respectfully, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 " Braxton Bragg, 
 
 " General Commanding:."' 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 247 
 
 The next indorsement shows a favorable disposition 
 
 — at least in part : 
 
 [Indorsement.] 
 
 " Respectfully submitted to the President. 
 " I recommend that they be respited until further orders, and 
 detained as hostages for our own people in the hands of the 
 enemy. 
 
 " G. W. Randolph, 
 
 "Secretary of War.'" 
 
 The Secretary of War seems to have had the impres- 
 sion that we had been also tried, and that sentence of 
 death was pending over us. Under such circumstances- 
 a respite would have been a valuable boon. 
 
 But President Davis is inflexible : 
 
 [Indorsement.] 
 
 "Secretary of War, inquire whether there is anything to- 
 justify a discrimination between them and others who were ex- 
 ecuted for the same offence. J. D." 
 
 The inquiry thus ordered was at once begun : 
 
 [Indorsement] 
 
 " Write to Major G. W. Lee, provost-marshal at Atlanta r 
 and inquire why fourteen of the engine thieves were respited 
 while the others were executed, and whether there is anything 
 distinguishing their case. 
 
 " G. W. Randolph, 
 
 " Secretary of War." 
 
 Only the responses to these inquiries were preserved 
 on file at Richmond, and are now in Washington. 
 They show the degree of confusion and misunderstand- 
 ing which prevailed at the rebel capital : 
 
 "Headquarters, Atlanta, Ga., Sept. 16, 1862. 
 •' Hon. G. W. Randolph, Secretary of War, Richmond, Va. 
 
 "Sir, — Your communication of the 11th inst. is duly to hand 
 In reply, I have respectfully to say that the arrest, incarcera- 
 tion, trial, and execution of the prisoners you refer to occurred 
 before I took charge of this post by your order. I found a 
 number of prisoners on my arrival, and among them the men 
 named in the petition transmitted. 
 
248 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 *' Inclosed I transmit the papers handed over to me by my 
 predeeesssor. Since the reception of your letter I have endeavored 
 to find Captain Foreacre, and ascertain something more, explain- 
 ing what I was not conversant with in the transaction, but as his 
 business takes him away from the city, I have not as yet had an 
 interview with him. I will still seek occasion to find him, and give 
 you all the information learned from him. You will please find 
 inclosed the names of the engine-stealers and bridge-burners who 
 are confined in the jail of this city. It is entirely out of my 
 power to answer yon as to ' why fourteen of the engine thieves 
 were respited while the others were executed, and whether or not 
 there is anything to justify a discrimination in their favor?' as I 
 am not informed in relation to the proceedings of the court-mar- 
 tial that tried the men. 
 
 " I am, sir, 
 
 " Kespeetfulty vour obt. servt., 
 "G. W. Lee, 
 " Commanding Post, and Provost-Marshal." 
 
 The inclosures consist of the seven death-sentences, 
 one of which has already been given, and the following 
 lists, which show a number of glaring errors. Accord- 
 ing to the first we had all been court-martial led, but 
 onlv the seven sentenced. The second is wrong; in the 
 placing of several names. The manner in which the 
 word " spies" is interlined in the " charges" of the first 
 list is also suggestive. 
 
 "List of Prisoners sent to Atlanta, Ga., Jane 13, 1862, from 
 Knoxville, Term., by command of Major-General E. Kirby 
 Smith : 
 
 Names. Residence. Charges. 
 
 Spies. 
 
 1. Wilson Brown Ohio. Court-martialled and sentenced....Engine A stealing. 
 
 2. Marion Ross " " " " A " 
 
 ::. \V. H. Campbell " " " " 
 
 4. .Ii.lin Scott " " " " " 
 
 •> IVrrv G. Shadrach... " " 
 
 «. <;. D. Wilson ' " " " " 
 
 7. Samuel Slavens " " " " " 
 
 8. S. Robinson " " " 
 
 9. E. II. Mason " " " 
 
 l<). Win. Knight " " " " 
 
 11. Robt. Buffins " " " (i 
 
 12. Wm. Pettinger^ '« " '• " 
 
 13. Captain David Fry ...Green Co., Tenn Bridge-burning and recruiting for 
 
 Federal army. 
 
 14. G. W. Barlow Washington Co., Tenn. ...Obstructing railroad track. 
 
 15. Thus. McCoy..... Morgan Co., " "] 
 
 Peter Pierce Campbell Co., " I Prisoners of war. — Federal sol- 
 John Barker Estill Co., " diers. 
 
 Bennot Powers Lincoln Co., " J 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 249 
 
 Names. Residence. Charges. 
 
 Political Prisoners. 
 
 Ransom White Morgan Co., Tenn.^l Citizen aiding the enemy. 
 
 John Walls Blount Co., " [Trying to go to Kentucky. 
 
 John Green Union Co., " (Rebellion. 
 
 John Thompkins Washington Co., " j " 
 
 Henry Miller Sullivan Co., " ....Suspected as a sjiv 
 
 William Thompson. Arrested at Bristol " " ' 
 
 " Respectfully submitted by order. 
 
 " Wm. M. Churchwell, 
 
 " Colonel, and Provost-Marshal " 
 
 "List of Prisoners in Atlanta City Jail, September 16, 1862. 
 
 ENGINE-STEALERS. 
 
 M. J. Hawkins, W. Keddick, 
 
 J. Parrott, D. A. Dorsey, 
 
 W. Bensinger, J. K. Porter, 
 
 A. Wilson, M. Wood, 
 
 E. H. Mason, W. W. Brown, 
 
 W. Knight, R. Bufman, 
 
 W. Pettinger, David Fry, 
 
 J. J. Barker. 
 
 BRIDGE-BURNERS. 
 
 T. McCoy, P. Pierce, 
 
 B. Powers, Jno. Walls, 
 Jno. Green, R. White, 
 H. Mills, J. Tompkins, 
 G. D. Barlow, Jno. Wollam." 
 
 The next day Provost-Marshal Lee wrote again as 
 
 follows : 
 
 "Headquarters, Atlanta, Ga., 
 
 " September 17, 1862. 
 " Hon. G. W. Randolph, Secretary of War, Richmond, Va. 
 
 "Sir, — I respectfully forward to you hereby all that I have 
 been enabled to obtain from my predecessor, Captain Foreacre. 
 
 " The documents relating to the cases, so far as I know any- 
 thing about them, were forwarded to you on yesterday. 
 " I am, sir, very respectfully, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 "G. W. Lee, 
 " Commanding Post, and Provost-Marshal ' 
 
 The following letter, inclosed from Captain Fore- 
 acre, is wrong in saying that some of the party had 
 been tried but not sentenced. Yet this was the obvious 
 belief of the Confederate authorities : 
 
250 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 "Atlanta, G-a., September 16, 1862. 
 "Hon. G. "W. Kandolph, Secretary of War, Kichraond, Va. 
 
 "Dear Sir, — Your letter of September 11, 1862, to Major 
 Lee, provost-marshal, has been shown me by him, and, as far as 
 I am acquainted with the matter, General Smith only sent from 
 Knoxville instructions and orders to have seven of them hung, 
 which was promptly attended to by myself. 
 
 " The remaining fourteen were reported to this office only for 
 safe-keeping, — some having been tried, but not sentenced, and 
 others not tried. The only office which can properly answer your 
 inquiry is that of Major-General E. K. Smith. 
 
 " I have the honor to remain, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 'G. I. FOREACRE." 
 
 No record of any further inquiry remains. Whether 
 the matter was there dropped, or orders issued for open- 
 ing the whole question by a court-martial, remains un- 
 certain. But these documents make it almost certain 
 that all the party, or at least the twelve who were sent 
 to Knoxville, were destined to be tried and condemned ; 
 that at the abrupt breaking up of the court, no record 
 was put on file of the cause of the interruption ; and 
 that the authorities at Atlanta and Richmond expected 
 the court at Knoxville, which they assumed to have 
 finished its work, to give orders for our disposal. That 
 court never reconvened. Its members were dispersed 
 all over the South. The commanding general, E. 
 Kirby Smith, was transferred to a distant department. 
 We were forgotten, and thus the strange respite we 
 enjoyed is explained. But would it continue ? 
 
 Some of the Confederate officers had formed a theory 
 of their own to account for the death of seven of our 
 u umber and the sparing of the remainder. They as- 
 sumed that those put to death were volunteers, while 
 the others were detailed by their officers. But there 
 were no grounds for such a supposition. 
 
 While this correspondence was in progress, Colonel 
 Lee came to our door one day, and had a long talk 
 with us about our expedition and prison experiences. 
 He finally told us of receiving a letter from the Secre- 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 251 
 
 iary of War at Richmond asking why we had not all 
 been executed ! He asked us the reason, and one of 
 the party, who had not totally forgotten his experience 
 of duplicity in the early part of our enterprise, said 
 that it had been thought that there were some miti- 
 gating; circumstances in our case. The marshal said 
 that he could give no reason, but had referred the 
 Secretary to the court-martial at Knoxville, and that 
 he was now awaiting orders concerning us. On our 
 request he promised to visit us again when he should 
 receive an answer from Richmond. We told him of 
 the manner in which our comrades had been put to 
 death without warning. He admitted the wrong, but 
 disclaimed responsibility for it, as it occurred before he 
 came into command. 
 
 We waited anxiously for his return for several days, 
 but waited in vain. It was urged that we had heard 
 enough already, and that now, if ever, we ought to 
 strike for life. But I was of another opinion. The 
 enterprise of escaping was of enormous difficulty, and 
 success, at the best, doubtful. I did not think that, in 
 our enfeebled condition, after six months of terrible 
 hardship and partial starvation, we were the men we 
 had been. It was my judgment that nothing but the 
 certainty of death on the one hand could give the neces- 
 sary vigor, spring, and desperation to command success 
 on the other. Despair might nerve us to throw our- 
 selves with resistless fury on the bayonets of the guards, 
 but this fury would come only when the last hope was 
 dead. My reasoning prevailed, and we waited a little 
 longer. 
 
 But evidence came soon that ended hesitation. More 
 of the guard was kept on duty at once, and greater 
 vigilance was everywhere apparent. We fancied that 
 the old jailer regarded us with unusual compassion. 
 But through the stove-pipe, from our friends in the 
 other room, came the decisive information. The pris- 
 oners there saw T the provost-marshal ride up to the 
 
252 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 gate, ha ye the jailer called out, and heard him give 
 orders to watch those engine-thieves closely, as he had 
 been notified that a court was ordered for their trial. 
 The same evening the jailer said to them that he was 
 very sorry for the poor Yankees in the other room, 
 for every man of them would be hung ! This word 
 was conveyed to us, and longer doubt would have been 
 folly. 
 
 VV r e were now ready for the emergency, and had 
 fu.ly discussed and settled our plans. We were in 
 the upper story of the jail. Our room was entered by 
 a double door, — one of heavy plank, and one of iron 
 slats. If this was opened, we would only be in the 
 entry, and would have still to go down-stairs into a 
 hall and pass another door before we could gain the 
 jail-yard. This, in turn, was surrounded by a board 
 fence eight or ten feet high, and having but a single 
 gate, which was usually closed. Seven fully-armed 
 soldiers were constantly on guard, with an unknown 
 reserve close at hand. We could depend on help from 
 no one of the prisoners except Captain Fry, so that we 
 were but fifteen, and even two or three of these were 
 too sick to be of i^reat value in a fight. Then we were 
 in the skirts of the town, fully a mile from the nearest 
 woods. One advantage, and the only one on which I 
 relied, was that of surprise. We knew what we were 
 to do, and the strong motive that impelled it. 
 
 All plans looking to sawing out and swinging to the 
 ground at night, as in Chattanooga, had been canvassed 
 and rejected. What we meant to do was to break out 
 in open daylight and overpower the guards. The most 
 t'avcrable time was when the doors were opened for 
 bringing in our supper, which was a little before sun- 
 down, as by starting then we would soon have the 
 cover of darkness. It was arranged to seize the jailer 
 when he came to remove the pans in which our supper 
 was brought, and to keep him perfectly quiet while all 
 the doors were being unlocked, for we wished to release 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 263 
 
 all the other prisoners. At the same moment the 
 other members of the party, divided into two squads, 
 were to cautiously descend the stairway, pounce upon 
 the guards, and take their guns from them. If this 
 was done in perfect quiet, the guards were to be locked 
 up, and we, taking their arms, would march out on our 
 homeward journey. As soon as discovered we were 
 t<» break into parties of two and strike out for Union 
 territory by widely-diverging lines. 
 
 All our plans were completed. We had patched our 
 clothes as well as possible, and made cloth moccasins 
 to protect our feet, many of our shoes being worn out. 
 We only waited the coming of the appointed hour. 
 
 Slowly the sun sunk down the west; slowly the 
 shadows lengthened in the east, till the gloomy shade 
 of the jail had nearly reached the crest of the hill that 
 usually marked our supper-time. We bade each other 
 a solemn farewell, for we knew not if we should ever 
 meet again on earth, or how many of us might be cold 
 and lifeless before the stars shone out. We prayed 
 fervently, though we dared not kneel or speak aloud. 
 Captain Fry, who was tender-hearted as a child, wept 
 ac the parting. He had two large coats, and as he 
 could not take both with him in the expected rush, he 
 generously gave one to me. I needed it extremely, for 
 I was very nearly destitute of clothing. He and I 
 were to be companions, according to a previous ar- 
 rangement. 
 
 Everything was put in readiness. I had carefully 
 piled in a corner such of the books belonging to the 
 minister as we still retained, and had written him a 
 note of thanks for them. Anything that could be used 
 as a weapon was now put within reach. 
 
 At last the supper-hour came. We could not afford 
 to lose a morsel of the scanty food, and ate it in silence. 
 The jailer was not accustomed to come into the room, 
 but merely opened the door and admitted the negroes 
 who bore the pans filled with corn-bread. Old Thoer, 
 
 v>9 
 
254 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 the watchman whom everybody hated, was fortunately 
 away. It was well, or he might have suffered. Tur- 
 ner we respected, and were determined not to injure if 
 we could help it. After the jailer had given their food 
 to ihe inmates of the other rooms he came back to ours 
 and swung open the creaking door to remove the food- 
 pans. This was the signal. 
 
 It was a thrilling moment! On the action of the- 
 next few seconds hung the issues of life or death. I 
 confess that for one instant the blood flowed to my 
 heart with a sharp, piercing throb, and there came a 
 sudden and terrible fear lest the fever-weakened body 
 would not in this crisis obey the dictates of will. But 
 this ceased before the door had swung wide enough 
 open to admit the passage of a man. The others were 
 pale but determined, and a single glance told me that 
 there would be no faltering. As for Captain Fry, who 
 was to initiate the movement, — supported by myself,— 
 and whom I had seen weeping a few minutes before, 
 he was perfectly calm, and his face wore a pleasant 
 smile ! As soon as the door had swung far enough he 
 stepped adroitly through it as if this were the most 
 natural thing in the world, and said, very quietly, — 
 
 " A pleasant evening, Mr. Turner." 
 
 "Yes, — rather — pleasant," responded the jauer. 
 looking bewildered by this movement, as he no doubt 
 was. 
 
 " We feel like taking a little walk this evening," 
 continued the captain, while the door was forced clear 
 back, and three of us stood abreast in it ready to 
 spring. 
 
 The astonishment of the jailer now knew no bounds. 
 ,k What? — how? — where?" he gasped, in broken ejac- 
 ulations. 
 
 Fry's countenance grew darker as he clasped the old 
 man in his arms, and said, — 
 
 " We have stayed as long as we can stand it, and are 
 now going to leave and let the other prisoners out ; so 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 255 
 
 give up the keys, and make no noise about it, or it will 
 be the worse for you \" 
 
 Turner tightened his grasp on the keys, whispered, 
 hoarsely, " You can't do that," then threw himself back 
 and began in a loud tone, " Guar — " when my hand 
 closed across his mouth and stifled the incipient call for 
 h : lp. He bit my finger, but did no great damage. 
 
 'Then came the rush of the prisoners, — quick, stealthy, 
 cat-like. Not a sound was audible a dozen yards away. 
 The negroes huddled in a corner of the room in stupid 
 fright, but had sense enough to be quiet. Turner 
 struggled violently, for he was a man of great strength, 
 but Fry and I kept him mute ; the keys were twisted 
 from him, and Buffum was soon at work on the locks 
 of the other doors. Quietly the assaulting column de- 
 scended the stairway and burst out upon the guards 
 outside. If they committed a fault, it was in being 
 too quick. In one minute Buffum would have had the 
 other doors unlocked, and then, throwing aside the dis- 
 armed jailer, Fry, Buffum, and myself, reinforced by 
 all the prisoners who chose to go with us, would have 
 stood by their side in the second charge. This trifling 
 circumstance did make a considerable difference in the 
 result, — at least, to some of us. 
 
 Seven sentinels were on duty, — three in the back 
 yard, four in the front yard. The charge upon the for- 
 mer was completely successful, their guns being wrested 
 from them before they knew their danger, and they 
 were kept perfectly quiet under the threat — which 
 would have been executed — of instant death. 
 
 The attack in the front yard was made with equal 
 gallantry and skill, but not with equal success. Two 
 rebels stood near the front door of the prison, and these 
 were secured in the same manner as their comrades at 
 the rear, and held in silence. Had the remaining two 
 been close at hand, I have no doubt they would have 
 fared as their comrades, and thus the unparalleled feat 
 of twelve unarmed prisoners taking the loaded muskets 
 
256 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 from seven guards on their post would have been ac- 
 complished. But, unfortunately, the last two stood at 
 the open gate. Their conduct was not brave but it was 
 wise, for, without firing a shot, they ran out through 
 the gate, screaming the alarm in tones that roused the 
 whole neighborhood. The reserve guard was close at 
 hand, and at once rushed to the rescue. 
 
 The whole action, from the time Fry stepped out of 
 the door until the wild cry was raised at the gate, was 
 probably less than sixty seconds. Fry and myself 
 were preparing to secure the jailer, for we knew not 
 yet that the attack was made. Buffum had opened two 
 doors, and was working at the third when the wild, 
 thrilling cry of alarm arose from below. Those within 
 adjured him to open, and the brave man, though his 
 own chances of life were lessening each second, worked 
 till the door opened, and then violently flung it wide, 
 with an impatient "there!" while he bounded down the 
 stairway like a hunted deer. 
 
 All secrecy was at an end, and the only remaining 
 hope was in headlong flight. Our comrades in the 
 yard saw their peril, and were in a little better position 
 than those of us who were still inside the jail. They 
 let go their terrified enemies, flung away the guns, 
 which now could only impede their flight, and, scaling 
 the board fence, made for the woods nearly a mile away. 
 Even for the foremost of them it was a fearful race. 
 Rebel bullets whistled around their ears, but none of 
 them was hit. Indeed, I am inclined to think that it 
 was a fortunate thing for our comrades that the rebels 
 had guns to carry, and stopped to fire whenever they 
 came near a fugitive. Otherwise hundreds of fresh, 
 vigorous soldiers — for there were soon hundreds on 
 the scene — could have run down a dozen half-starved 
 prisoners. 
 
 Fry and myself started down-stairs together as soon 
 as Buifum had opened the last door, — only a moment 
 after the alarm had been given, but moments were 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH 7 257 
 
 more precious then than common months. The cap- 
 tain was a little in advance. His eagle eye took in 
 the situation, as in two leaps he cleared the stairway. 
 He saw there was no chance in the front yard, now 
 filled with armed rebels, and darted to the back door, 
 found a passage to the yard fence, scaled it just before 
 a complete guard was stretched around the prison, was 
 fired at on the fence, but descended in safety, and ran 
 in a different direction from the other fugitives. Fi- 
 nally, a soldier levelled his musket at him, and he fell. 
 One of our own men who saw this, and no more, re- 
 ported that he was killed, and we long mourned the 
 brave man as dead. But this was only a stratagem to 
 gain his breath for a moment. His pursuers turned 
 towards other game, and he rose, and, after a second 
 hard chase, gained the cover of the woods. Thirty 
 days after he had reached Nashville in safety. 
 
 I was to have been his companion, according to the 
 allotment we made before leaving the prison, and our 
 boys almost envied me the advantage of being with 
 so experienced a mountain traveller. But a moment's 
 misfortune made this advantage unavailing, and doomed 
 me to further sufferings. My eyes have always been 
 defective, and especially sensitive to sudden variations 
 of light. When I came from the dark prison room 
 (the hall was equally dark) into full light, for a moment 
 I could see nothing distinctly. I lost sight of Fry. It 
 would not do to stand still, and I rushed for the prison- 
 gate. Many a time defective vision has been a source 
 of annoyance and vexation, but never so much as then. 
 Before getting to the gate I could see better, and was 
 confronted by two soldiers, who were tossing their guns 
 about in a distracted manner, and crying, " What shall 
 we do ? Oh, what shall we do ?" They did not look 
 dangerous, and I ran by ; but just in the gate I met a 
 stream of fresh guards coming on the run. Of course 
 they halted me, and equally, of course, I did not halt, 
 but turned back towards the jail. There were other 
 r 22* 
 
258 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 guards around, one of whom snapped his gun at me 
 when not two yards away. I eluded them, got into 
 the jail again, and out at the back door. This time I 
 reached the top of the yard fence, but a dozen muskets 
 were lifted from the outside to fire. To jump down on 
 that side was inevitable death. One chance only re- 
 mained. Possibly the gate now was not watched ! I 
 sprang back into the yard, and other guards were after 
 me. The prison-cloor was open, and I entered, seek- 
 ing to pass through it as before, and get outside the 
 gate for a clear race. But the. front door was now 
 guarded also, and, as I turned, I found my pursuers 
 in the back door. I was fairly trapped, — back in the 
 prison again ! It was a terrible situation. If I could 
 crush between the two men who stood with loaded 
 muskets in the door, their comrades were outside, and 
 it was simply death to attack them. In sheer despera- 
 tion, I turned my back upon them, not caring whether 
 they fired or not, and walked up-stairs to a window, 
 from which I could see something of the fearful race 
 still going on, and note the streams of troops pouring 
 towards the prison. My guards pointed their guns at 
 me, but did not offer to come near, and when I walked 
 from the hall window into a room, — not our own, but 
 another which commanded a better view, — I found in 
 it the four Federal soldiers, its former occupants, who 
 had made no attempt to get away, the alarm and the 
 rapid firing which followed convincing them that it 
 was safer to remain where they were. 
 
 Parrott and Red dick were recaptured inside the wall, 
 like myself. Buffum got over the wall about the same 
 time as Captain Fry, but was less fortunate. A soldier 
 singled him out, and squarely ran him down. When 
 hardly able to drag another step, and with the inexor- 
 able armed runner within a rod of him, Buffum tried a 
 " Yankee trick." (He was a native of Massachusetts.) 
 Sinking down exhausted, he said, " I surrender. You 
 can go on and get that other fellow," pointing to one a 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 259 
 
 few rods away. " No/' answered the man, with a great 
 oath, " Fve got you, and I mean to keep you." So he stood 
 with his gun aimed until some of his comrades arrived, 
 and poor Buffum was marched back to jail. Had the 
 man taken his advice, and looked for a bird in the 
 bush, the one in hand would doubtless have flown. 
 Mason and Bensinger were also captured outside of the 
 wall, making a recapture of six and an escape of nine, 
 — a better result than I had supposed probable when 
 we planned the attempt. 
 
 From the window of the front room where I then 
 was I had a good view of the proceedings below. In 
 a short time a large body of troops, including a regi- 
 ment of cavalry, were drawn up in front of the jail. 
 I heard Colonel Lee give his orders. He said, " Don't 
 take one of the villains alive. Shoot them down 
 wherever you find them/' with many similar expres- 
 sions, which were possibly meant for the benefit of 
 those inside the prison as well as for the troops. He 
 also ordered pickets to be placed at the ferries of the 
 Chattahoochee, along the railroad, and also at all cross- 
 roads, — an arrangement that pleased me, for we had 
 agreed to avoid those very places. Our intention had 
 been to travel in the night-time through the woods, and 
 to cross the rivers on logs as far from ferries as possible. 
 
 Hearing some confused sounds of distress from the 
 room of the Tennesseeans, I inquired the cause, and 
 learned that a young man, named Barlow, who alone 
 of their number had attempted to escape, had broken 
 his ankle. This injury was received in jumping from 
 the outside fence. He was driven back to the prison 
 room, where surgical aid was refused, and he finally 
 died after great suffering. 
 
 Of all who were up-stairs at the time the alarm was 
 given, only Fry and one other man succeeded in escap- 
 ing. The latter was a deserter from the rebel army, 
 and beino; verv active and fleet, reached the shelter of 
 the woods in advance of all the fugitives. 
 
260 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 From the window I could hear the guards, all night 
 long, talking over their adventures. Generally they 
 praised their own bravery liberally, but occasionally 
 some one who had arrived later would suggest that it 
 was not much to their credit to let unarmed men snatch 
 their guns from them ; but such suggestions were not 
 kindly received, and the work of self-glorification went 
 on. One of them expressed astonishment at the speed 
 of the Yankees, who had been so long kept in jail ; 
 another accounted for it by the abundant practice in 
 running; Yankee soldiers had received in battle! 
 
 All night long I lay in a hammock which one of the 
 regular soldiers had swung by the window, but now 
 kindly resigned to me, and listened to the boastful con- 
 versation below. 
 
 " Sadly I thought of the morrow." 
 
 There was little reason to doubt that full vengeance 
 would be dealt to each man who remained in the 
 enemy's power. The news we had received, and which 
 we had agreed in crediting, was the end of all hope- 
 Death, which had stared us in the face so often, could 
 not be far distant now. Another escape would scarcely 
 be left by the aroused vigilance of the enemy within 
 the realms of possibility. And such a death ! No 
 vision of glory to dazzle the sight, and hide the grim 
 monster from view, or wreathe him in flowers. No 
 eye of friends to behold the last struggle. No sympa- 
 thy, — nothing but ignominy and an impenetrable dark- 
 ness, beyond which no loving eye might ever pierce ! 
 But even as the cold horror of the scaffold, and the 
 vision of the heartless, jeering crowd rose freshly be- 
 fore me, I looked out in the clear night, and up to the 
 shining stars, and remembered that I had one Friend, 
 — a Friend who would not fear to stand with me on 
 the scaffold, and who had Himself tasted the bitterness 
 of a public execution. Was it for me he had died, — to 
 
LIBERTY OR DEATH? 261 
 
 -show me that do outward shame is too great to be borne 
 by the true heart ? With the thought came a still and 
 heavenly peace, while my hope, finding no place on 
 this side, overleaped the darkness of death and dwelt 
 upon the scenes of promised happiness beyond. It is 
 in such hours that the value and supporting power of 
 religion is fully realized. 
 
 The next morning the jailer put me back into the 
 room formerly occupied. When all had gathered, we 
 were only six in number, — Mason, Buffum, Bensinger, 
 Reddick, Parrott, and myself. We had enough to talk 
 over for many hours. The jailer, too, had his story to 
 tell. He said that some man put his hand over his 
 mouth and nearly smothered him, but added, with 
 great satisfaction, " I bit his finger terribly, and gave 
 the rascal a mark he will carry to the grave with him." 
 However, though he did bite hard, his teeth were not 
 so sharp as he thought, and he had only managed to 
 inflict a slight bruise. I kept my hand out of sight in 
 his presence for a day or two, and he had no idea that 
 I was the person of whom he complained, as his fright 
 prevented his clearly distinguishing anything. He was 
 rather cross for a while, and always brought up the 
 guards when he came to feed us. 
 
 About the middle of the day some officers came to 
 see us, and talked very roughly. With many threats, 
 they demanded to know what direction our comrades 
 had intended to travel. I was glad of this, as it as- 
 sured me that some were still at large. They professed 
 to have killed several, and declared that they meant to 
 kill the others as fast as they were taken. In answer 
 to their demand I told them the truth, as I thought 
 that would do them as little good as anything else. I 
 said, — 
 
 " They intend to try to get to the Union lines ; and 
 they said that it made little difference which way they 
 went, for our forces have you so completely surrounded, 
 -that travelling in any course will do equally well." 
 
2(52 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Being unable to get anything more definite, they 
 retired. 
 
 Not until our own release did we learn with cer- 
 tainty the fate of our eight comrades. Nothing in this 
 whole story seems more wonderful than their adven- 
 tures and ultimate success. Two went South, two West, 
 and four others, in two groups, went Northward. To 
 recite the adventures of all would detain us too long, 
 but the reader will expect some account. We will give 
 two of the four narratives in some detail, and the others 
 more briefly. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 
 
 J. R. Porter and John Wollam kept in company 
 when they ran for the woods. The latter will be re- 
 membered as having previously escaped from Chatta- 
 nooga in company with Andrews, and eluded his pur- 
 suers for a long time. 
 
 It was October 16 when they started, and they 
 reached the Federal lines at Corinth, Mississippi, No- 
 vember 18, being thus two days over a month on the 
 way. They endured the greatest hardships. When in 
 wooded country they travelled both night and day, sub- 
 sisting on wild grapes, chestnuts, hickory-nuts, walnuts, 
 and some few sweet potatoes. In a few instances they 
 got a little morsel of corn-bread from some negroes. 
 This was not always a gift. Several times they slipped 
 into the fields where the negroes were at work and stole 
 their scanty dinners. Necessity knew no law. For one 
 whole week they had no bread, nor any other food, ex- 
 cept the nuts gathered in the woods. 
 
 Their sufferings with cold were also very great, as 
 their clothes were light and almost worn out, and the- 
 
ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 263 
 
 nights very chill. Twice only they slept in houses. 
 One night they travelled till they were chilled and 
 weary, and almost perishing with cold, when they for- 
 tunately discovered a nest of hogs. It was no time to 
 be choice ; so routing out the inmates, they took posses 
 sion of the warm bed, and slept soundly till morning ! 
 They found many streams on the way, which they 
 were obliged to wade, or float across on logs. Porter was 
 a man of clear religious faith and great constancy, while 
 Wollam was full of resources, though somewhat reck- 
 less. He longed for the Tennessee River, down which 
 he had floated alone once before, and somewhere on 
 which he knew Federal troops were to be found. It 
 was twenty-two days, however, before this stream was 
 reached, at a point forty miles west of Chattanooga. 
 The worst of their trials were now over. They pressed 
 a canoe into the service, and used it as Wollam had 
 done before, paddling and floating down stream at 
 night, and hiding it and themselves, in the most secret 
 place they could find, during the day. Two persons 
 under such circumstances have great advantages over 
 a solitary traveller. Not only does companionship as- 
 sist in keeping hope alive in each breast, but one can 
 watch while the other rests, and thus their resources 
 are husbanded. The voyagers met with no remark- 
 able adventures until they reached the head of Muscle 
 Shoals, which they could not pass on account of low 
 water. Abandoning their canoe here, they made a cir- 
 cuit of forty miles by land, and came back to the river 
 below the Shoals. Here they " borrowed" a skiff, and 
 continued their journey until within twelve miles of 
 Pittsburg Landing, where they finally left the river. 
 Twelve miles of travel brought them to Corinth, — a 
 post occupied by Union troops, — where they were re- 
 ceived with all the welcome that could be given to 
 comrades long considered dead. They had passed over 
 three hundred miles in a straight line, — probably double 
 that distance by reason of the circuits they made, and 
 
264 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 this without assistance, and while shunning all about 
 them as foes. 
 
 Engineer Brown, W. J. Knight, and E. H. Mason 
 were thrown together in the hurry of escape, although 
 only the former two had intended to travel in company. 
 Mason's intended comrade was recaptured. Dorsey and 
 Hawkins were also, at first, in the same squad. The 
 first night, while hiding in the woods, Mason became 
 very sick, and for two days remained within a short 
 distance of Atlanta. This was very dangerous, and he 
 finally told Brown and Knight to leave him and make 
 good their own escape. This the heroic boys refused 
 to do, but, on the contrary, took him to a house, as he 
 was growing rapidly worse. They were well received, 
 and given some food in the kitchen. Just as they had 
 finished it, three men, who had probably seen their 
 arrival, came in at the front door to arrest them. This 
 was an almost unique incident in the history of our 
 expedition, — the attempt to arrest any members of the 
 party without having an overwhelming superiority in 
 numbers, — and, as might have been expected, it miscar- 
 ried. Our comrades did not deny being escaped pris- 
 oners, but when told that they must surrender and go 
 back to Atlanta, Brown, who hardly knew the meaning 
 of fear, gave in his soft, silvery voice the very decided 
 reply, " No, we won't ; now see if we do," and with 
 Knight sprang through the back door. There was no 
 alternative but to abandon Mason ; but the other two 
 were the strongest and most agile of our number, — had 
 always been our leaders in all athletic sports, and were 
 able to give a good account of themselves either in a 
 rice or fight. They ran round the end of the house 
 and then struck towards a piece of woods half a mile 
 away, keeping under the shelter of a fence which ex- 
 tended towards the woods. The Confederates ran out 
 at the front door with their shot-guns just as the fugi- 
 tives were flying along the fence. Not wishing to try 
 a foot-race, the former mounted their horses and galloped 
 
LIEUTENANT WILSON W. BROWN. 
 
 (Union Engineer.) 
 
 Page 264. 
 
ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 265 
 
 out from the house down a lane that led to the main 
 road, attempting thus to head them off, while the owner 
 of the house where they had stayed unloosed his pack 
 of hounds, which were soon on the trail in full cry. The 
 fugitives changed their course to avoid the chance of a 
 shot from the road, and to keep at right angles with it. 
 Before the woodland could be reached, the dogs closed 
 in upon them, and the struggle which followed was 
 shjrt and decisive. Brown and Knight, seeing the 
 dogs gaining upon them, selected a place where loose 
 stones were abundant, and gave their barking foes a 
 reception which must have astonished them. Stones 
 weighing a pound or more, hurled at close quarters by 
 the strong arms of desperate men, are not to be despised 
 by the most savage of blood-hounds. The whole pack 
 were soon crippled or driven into hasty flight. 
 
 But bv this time the horsemen were near, and our 
 hunted comrades were obliged to run again at full speed, 
 changing their course, with the purpose of eluding their 
 armed pursuers. They got into some brushwood, and 
 by u seesawing and tacking" hoped to get out of sight 
 of the horsemen. But the dogs still followed the trail, 
 though they dared not come near, and the brave pair 
 would no doubt have been run down in time, by the 
 aid of dogs and horses, had they not found a little creek, 
 in which they waded long enough to throw the dogs off 
 the scent ; then the expanse of timber about the creek 
 soon hid them from their human foes. 
 
 That day they reached Stone Mountain, about eigh- 
 teen miles east of Atlanta, and afterwards travelled only 
 at n ght, due north, with the North Star for their guide. 
 From their daytime hiding-places they frequently saw 
 parties of patrol lers, but were never discovered. 
 
 Mason was taken without resistance and sent back to 
 Atlanta, where he joined us, being the sixth and last 
 man recaptured. 
 
 Brown and Knight did not venture agrain to a house, 
 and suffered greatly for want of food. From the house 
 M 23 
 
266 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 they had left so precipitately they travelled six days with 
 nothing to eat save what the woods furnished. They 
 even chewed brush to appease the gn a wings of hunger. 
 On the seventh day they obtained a great feast by 
 catching a goose, which they ate raw, and also procured 
 a little of the corn left in a field by the huskers. Two 
 days after, they found a tree of apples, very poor, but 
 precious to them, and, after having devoured as many 
 as they could, carried a supply with them. Before 
 night, however, they had still better fortune. They 
 discovered a drove of half-grown pigs. To get one 
 was not easy, but these men were not readily baffled. 
 Their plan was soon laid : Knight hid behind a tree 
 with a club, while Brown tolled a confiding member of 
 the drove by biting off bits of apple and throwing 
 towards him. He backed past the tree where Knight 
 was concealed, and when the pig in following came near 
 enough, the latter felled it with one powerful blow, and 
 they bore it away in triumph. That night they found 
 a burnt brush-heap, and, as some of the coals were not 
 extinct, they made a fire and feasted on roast pig. They 
 carried off what they could not eat, and it took the 
 edge from famine for a long while. 
 
 When ten days out they crossed the Chattahoochee 
 on a raft made of rails tied together with bark. At 
 length they came into the mountains, where travel at 
 night for famishing men was intolerably difficult. But, 
 though they knew it not, they were near friends. The 
 border country between Tennessee and North Caro- 
 lina was always predominantly loyal. Accident led to 
 the discovery of those who were glad to give them 
 help. In crossing an old clearing, which seemed de- 
 serted, they came out unexpectedly in front of a lonely 
 looking log house, where two men stood on the porch. 
 Brown and Knight were so hungry that they resolved 
 to take the risk of asking for dinner. As there were 
 only two men, they thought they could not be arrested, 
 especially if they first got something to eat. They pre- 
 
ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 267 
 
 tended to be rebel soldiers, who had been sick and were 
 now trying to get back to their regiments. The mistress 
 of the house gave them food, but eyed them closely, and 
 soon accused them of being "Yankees." Denial was 
 useless, and they " soon found each other out." These 
 Union people put them on the Southern branch of the 
 Underground Railroad, and they arrived at Somerset, 
 Kentucky, on the 25th of November, — a month and 
 nine days after leaving Atlanta. 
 
 The course of the next pair, Dorsey and Hawkins, 
 was also northward, and in nearly the same track. In 
 the early part it presents marked peculiarities, espe- 
 cially in the fact that much help was obtained from 
 the negroes. These sympathized with all fugitives on 
 general principles, and still more when the fugitives 
 were Union soldiers. The latter part of this narrative 
 passes over the same ground as the former. It is a 
 trifling but noticeable coincidence that four of the eight 
 who escaped came to the town of Somerset, Kentucky^ 
 and two others to the ship " Somerset." 
 
 Dorsey shall tell his own story, with a few abridg- 
 ments. He hurt his ankle in the first terrible run, and 
 this caused him great suffering. He also met a coun- 
 tryman just before reaching the woods, but having 
 armed himself with a large stone in each hand, and 
 looking dangerous, he was not stopped. The rapid 
 firing of the enemy led him to believe that many of 
 our number were killed. We take up his story at the 
 entrance of the forest. The first touch is very graphic. 
 
 " Passing a little way into the woods, I found Brown an< 
 Knight leaning against a tree, gasping for breath. I leaned 
 against the same tree. None of us could speak. I thought for 
 a moment or two that each breath would be my last. As we re- 
 covered a little, one gasped, 'Guess we'd better go, boys.' On 
 we went, but not so fast as before, for none of our pursuers were 
 now in sight. We were soon joined by Hawkins, Mason, and 
 the escaped deserter, so that we were six in all. We lay in an 
 open field that night, judging it to be safer than the woods, and 
 huddled together as a partial protection from the cold. All 
 night long we heard the baying of the hounds and the frequent 
 
268 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 discharge of firearms. The distance from which these sounds 
 came indicated that the pursuers were beyond us, and that our 
 best chance was in hiding and allowing them to pass still farther 
 ahead. The next day we were fortunate enough to discover 
 some luscious wild grapes, which we devoured with the greatest 
 relish. Our mouths afterwards were very sore, and the grapes 
 may possibly have been the cause of the injury. The same day* 
 we were surprised by some citizens with shot-guns, but outran 
 them and escaped. 
 
 " Brown, Mason, and Knight left us, the latter being <ick. 
 The deserter continued with us a day longer. He then wished 
 to visit a house for food, but we, though very hungry, did not 
 think it advisable, and parted with all good wishes. I have 
 heard that he got safely to Washington, D. C, but, returning to 
 his home in Northern Georgia, was arrested and executed as a 
 deserter from the Confederate army, into which he had been 
 conscripted at first. 
 
 "On the fourth day out we met two of our pursuers, who 
 were apparently coming back discouraged, but easily eluded 
 them by hiding under some bushes. We now began to travel 
 more rapidly, hiding by day and continuing on our way by night, 
 directed by the stars, which Hawkins understood very well. 
 
 " On the eighth day out we came to the ferry of the Chatta- 
 hoochee Kiver, far to the northeast of Atlanta. We took rails 
 from a neighborins; fence, and began to build a raft, when we 
 observed a lighted torch approaching the opposite side of the 
 river. When it came nearer we saw that the party accompany- 
 ing it were negroes, two in number, with four dogs. Hawkins, 
 who had spent some years in the South, and understood the dis- 
 position of the negroes, felt disposed to trust them. Accordingly, 
 we asked them to ferry us over, which they readily did, we 
 giving them a little tobacco we had. and which we could not 
 use because of our sore mouths. They professed themselves 
 Unionists, and we told them that we were Union soldiers. The 
 fact of belonging to the railroad party we did not disclose until 
 we were within the Union lines. One went for provisions, while 
 the other remained with us, as if to allay any suspicions we 
 might entertain. They told us that we were forty-eight miles 
 northeast of Atlanta, in the region of deserted gold-mines, j.nd 
 proposed to hide us in one of those mines, supply us with quilts 
 and provisions until we were well rested, and then direct us on 
 our northward way. It would probably have been better to 
 have accepted their kind offer, which I think Hawkins wished 
 to do, but I had some fear ; so we declined. 
 
 " The one who had gone for provisions returned with a goodiy 
 supply of boiled pork and beans, mashed Irish potatoes, sweet 
 potatoes, and corn-bread. What a feast ! It was the first food 
 worthy the name we had eaten for six long months ! We did 
 it ample justice, and what was left carried away with us. Our 
 African friends »iao gave us a piece of a broken butcher-knife- 
 
ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 269 
 
 that was of great service. They also gave us invaluable direc- 
 tions, telling us where the rebel troops lay, and where we could 
 find a colored slave, who would ferry us over the Hiawassee 
 (which runs down from North Carolina into the Tennessee), as 
 they had done over the Chattahoochee. We assured them that 
 they would soon be free, and parted with a mutual ' God bless 
 you ! ' 
 
 " With thankful hearts we pressed on, made a good night's 
 journey, and then laid by until evening of the next day. See- 
 ing a house on the edge of the woods, we watched it until assured 
 that only an old man and woman were there, when we went boldly 
 up to it and asked for supper, which was given with some reluc- 
 tance. 
 
 " Early in the evening journey we came to a small stream, and 
 attempting to cross on a fallen tree, I fell into the water, and was 
 thoroughly soaked. From this cause I suffered greatly with cold. 
 Some hours after we came to a barn, the mows of which were 
 filled with corn-blades. We were glad to bury ourselves out of 
 sight in the fodder, where we grew warm, and slept all day. It 
 was comfortable, but we paid for it by a terrible fright. Some 
 cavalrymen came into the stable under the mows and took out 
 their horses. We could hear their conversation and the jingle 
 of their spurs, and scarcely dared to breathe. But they left us 
 in safety. We stayed a day longer, as the bed was the best we 
 had found since our first capture. But a negro boy came up to 
 hunt eggs, and found us. He was so frightened that we could not 
 pacify him, and, fearing an alarm, we hastened to the woods once 
 more. Some negroes were again met, starting on their favorite 
 amusement, — an opossum-hunt. On application they gave us a 
 magnificent treat, — a hatful of apples, a half 'pone,' and two 
 or three pounds of boiled beef on a bone. This supply lasted for 
 several days. 
 
 ." On the night journey we were much annoyed by the barking 
 of dogs at the houses we passed. Once we were seen, but, pre- 
 tending to be rebels on the way to our regiments, we succeeded 
 so well in lulling suspicion that an old man sent a message to his 
 son, who was in the rebel army, by us, and added some corn- 
 bread for the messengers. 
 
 " I here became more lame than ever, by reason of an unfor- 
 tunate misstep, and had to walk by leaning part of my weight 
 upon my faithful comrade. We came to a wide river we could 
 not cross, and, going back into the fields, lay on the damp ground 
 till morning. If I ever tasted cold, it was then. Hawkins be- 
 came reckless from suffering, and was disposed to go to a house, 
 even at the risk of capture. But I demurred, and we waited for 
 an opportunity to communicate with the ever-faithful negroes. 
 We found a hut, and, watching it some time, saw none but a 
 black woman there. She readily responded to our appeal for 
 help, gave us a hot breakfast, a fire to warm by, and some 
 parched corn to carrv on our journey. She also directed us to a 
 
 23* 
 
270 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ford. Thanking her from our hearts, we returned to the river, 
 got over, and concealed ourselves in the woods on the other side. 
 
 " With the coming of night we once more took up our weary 
 way. Towards morning we saw a large encampment of whites 
 and colored people. All were asleep except one of the latter. 
 We approached, and, in a whisper, asked him who they were. 
 He told us of the retreat of Bragg's army from Kentucky, and 
 that these were a band of fugitives coming South with their slaves 
 to avoid the Union army. To us this was a serious matter. A 
 large army, with all its baggage, and the country full of pickets, 
 •directly in our front, was a great addition to our danger. The 
 colored man gave us all the scanty information he possessed about 
 the position of the army. Hawkins, spying a covered skillet near 
 the fire, winked at our friend, got an assenting nod, and reached 
 for it. It had two baked sweet potatoes, which we appropriated, 
 and departed as noiselessly as we had advanced. Twenty-four 
 hours after, we had reached the Hiawassee River. We called 
 lustily for the ferryman, and, to our exceeding delight, were 
 .answered by the very slave our colored friends on the Chatta- 
 hoochee had said would be willing to ferry us over. 
 
 " With his counsel, for we trusted him with the secret of our 
 being escaped prisoners, we resolved to go down the Hiawassee 
 to its junction with the Tennessee. To do this, however, it would 
 be necessary to pass round the rebel camp at Charleston, a few 
 miles farther down the river. This was Friday, and, by waiting 
 until Saturday, the young man could get a pass good until Mon- 
 day, and could pilot us around Charleston. We resolved to wait. 
 He treated us royally, — shared his scanty allowance of food with 
 us, for he had only a slave's rations, doctored my ankle, kept us 
 in his best bed — a feather' one — overnight, though, for pruden- 
 tial reasons, we hid in the woods during the day, and, on start- 
 ing, gave us a bottle of molasses and a piece of pork. We floated 
 down near camp in a 'dug-out' canoe, then left the river and 
 surrounded the enemy. Our pilot was obliged to leave us before 
 we got back to the river below the town, but he put us on the 
 banks of a small stream, which we had only to follow down to 
 its mouth. This we reached by two p.m., and amused ourselves 
 by cracking walnuts and hickory-nuts in a solitary place until 
 dark, when we hunted up an old dilapidated canoe. It was a 
 miserable boat, and gave us enough to do in bailing as well as 
 paddling it. We soon saw a better craft, with good paddles, tied up, 
 and, as the owner was not there, we 'traded' without difficulty. 
 
 " The stars were shining brightly when we again pushed oil', 
 and the water was as clear as crystal, though not deep. We dried . 
 our wet clothes, and felt very much more comfortable. Save an 
 occasional whisper between us and the soft ripple of the oars, 
 silence was unbroken. This was the most peaceful and satisfac- 
 tory night's travel we had yet made. 
 
 " At daybreak we hid the boat and nestled away in some dry 
 leaves, and after the sun got high enough to warm us, slept by 
 
ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 271 
 
 turns till afternoon. Then we noticed an island half a mile far- 
 ther down the river, and, as we had seen nobody the whole day, 
 and the place appeared perfectly solitary, we resolved to explore 
 it. Nothing was found, but we saw a house on the east bank, 
 which we watched until sundown, and seeing only women about 
 it, resolved to try for supper. We got a good square meal, but 
 judge our dismay at finding a good number of ladies, and, soon 
 after, a few men, also, at the place. It was a ' quilting,' and 
 they were to dance that evening. But we told a new story. We 
 had been working at a saw-mill in the mountains, were now out 
 of employment, and were going to Chattanooga to look for a job. 
 They warned us that we would be arrested at Chattanooga, and 
 would have to go to jail or join the army. They seemed to care 
 nothing for the war, and to have no disposition to molest us. 
 We assured them that we would be all right in Chattanooga, as 
 we were personally acquainted with General Leadbetter. They 
 looked doubtful, and in parting they said, in a rather insinuat 
 ing manner, that they wished us a safe journey to Chattanooga. 
 Probably they were Unionists, but we dared not risk a discovery. 
 I tried, unsuccessfully, to steal a quilt, which we greatly needed. 
 The night was overcast, the water was very shallow in places, 
 and some tree-tops were in the way. We had to get out, pull 
 our boat out of these obstructions and into deeper water, and 
 then, wet to the skin, to re-embark and paddle on. 
 
 " About midnight we came to what seemed to be a ferry, where 
 the river was deeper and wider than it had been before. Sud- 
 denly two shots were fired at us. We lay down in the bottom 
 of the boat, and, taking in our paddles, let her float down stream, 
 while we did not move a muscle. I suppose it was a picket of 
 the enemy, who, after firing once, concluded that our boat was 
 only a floating log, and took no further trouble. After getting, 
 as we supposed, out of danger, we again seized the paddles, and 
 an hour of vigorous work brought us to the river's mouth, and 
 out on the broader Tennessee. 
 
 " We were very reluctant to abandon the river navigation, but 
 it was manifestly dangerous to continue it further, and useless as 
 well, unless we were prepared to take the risk of running by 
 Chattanooga. So we rowed to the north side of the Tennessee, 
 and turned our trusty craft adrift, while we started across the 
 mountains. The first road we crossed gave evidence of the pas- 
 sage of a large body of troops, and thus warned us that we were 
 probably in danger of becoming entangled in the scouts and de- 
 tachments of Bragg's army, now on its retreat from Kentucky. 
 Two boys we found by a fire in a school-house — they had been 
 out ' coon'-hunting — confirmed this report. Soon we saw their 
 ramp-fires, and ascending a mountain, where we supposed we 
 would be safer than in the valleys, waited for morning. When 
 it came, an appalling sight met our view, — a large division of 
 Bragg's army, with its seemingly endless baggage-trains, well 
 guarded by cavalry, was spread out beneath us. All day long 
 
272 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 we watched their movements from our eyrie with breathless 
 anxiety. We resolved at night to turn to the northeast instead 
 of keeping due north, as we had intended. Before we had gone 
 far, Hawkins whispered in my ear, ' Dorsey, we mustn't crack 
 any corn to-night.' Rebel pickets and scouts were no doubt on 
 every side of us. The mountain-side was steep and covered with 
 loose stones, where travelling, even by day, would have been dif- 
 ficult; at night, in the presence of the enemy, it was terrible! 
 We came to a picket, and were only saved from running right 
 intc it by the snuffling of a horse. We slipped away a short dis- 
 tance from the road, and lay down. Soon a squad of cavalry 
 passed up the road, and we crossed it right behind them, anxious 
 to get out of that dangerous neighborhood while the sound of 
 their hoofs drowned any noise we might make. We moved very 
 cautiously, again ascended the mountain-side, and near daybreak 
 came to a halt and went into camp, — that is, hid in the brush. 
 
 " When the light came we could see the enemy no more, but 
 heard his wagons rumbling off in the distance. The immediate 
 danger from that source was over. Our stock of provision, 
 which was only a little parched corn, was almost exhausted ; and 
 as the mountain seemed to be uninhabited, we resolved to move 
 forward in the afternoon. We found a negro, who, for a wonder, 
 could not or would not give any provisions or information. Late 
 in the night we rested, tying some bushes together to make a 
 rude shelter, and both sleeping, for nature was almost overcome. 
 Food and water were also very low, but in the morning we pressed 
 on, halting when our waning strength failed, and going on when 
 strength allowed. 
 
 " Very impressive were some of the hours spent in watching 
 on the Cumberland Mountains. One of us would sleep in per- 
 fect trust, while the other watched and thought The lofty peaks, 
 the wide landscape, and the rising and setting sun were doubly 
 solemn in the profound silence, and amid the mighty forests of 
 that region. I can never forget the beauty of nature associated 
 with so much of peril. 
 
 " But there were other hours of very prosaic toil. Once we 
 had to force our way on hands and knees through a mass of briers 
 a quarter of a mile wide. Several times we hunted persimmons 
 by moonlight, — Hawkins shaking them off, while I crawled on 
 hands and knees feeling for them. Many adventures similar to 
 chose already narrated were encountered. Near a ford of the 
 Sequatchie River we found a quilted skirt hanging out, which we 
 appropriated, tore in two, and, making a hole in the middle of 
 each piece for our heads, found ourselves possessed of passable 
 undershirts, which we needed sorely, as it was now colder than 
 ever. The ford was waded with our clothes taken off and tied 
 on our heads. 
 
 " For two days more we travelled and rested alternately in the 
 mountains, hungry, wet with the rain that now began to fall, 
 and as solitary as if we were the only inhabitants of the globe. 
 
DORSEY AND HAWKINS IN THE CUMBERLAND MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Page 272. 
 
ROMANTIC ESCAPES. 273 
 
 Near sundown of the second day we heard some wood-choppers 
 far below us. We were so weak that we repeatedly fell as we de- 
 scended the mountain-side. Hunger was so extreme that we re- 
 solved to try for food from them, using the best story we could 
 frame. We told them we were Confederate soldiers, who had 
 been left in a hospital, from which we had run away, and were 
 now trying to get to our regiments ; also that we were without 
 money, and wanted food. They refused to do anything for us ; 
 said that soldiers had already eaten them nearly out. This re- 
 ception encouraged us. To test them further we talked of our 
 cause, its justice, certainty of success, etc. They did not pretend 
 to agree with us, and, finally, told us that we were in what had 
 been called ' Lincoln District,' because only two votes were cast 
 there for secession. The conversation led them to a flat avowal 
 that they were Union men. We then cautiously revealed the 
 fact that we were soldiers on the same side, and the hospitality 
 which had been denied before was now readily extended." 
 
 This proved to be a station on the "Underground 
 Railroad, 7 ' which had been organized since the opening 
 of the war for the escape of Union men and prisoners 
 to the Union lines in Kentucky. After the fugitives 
 had completely proved their character, they were put 
 under the conduct of a local celebrity, known as " Red 
 Fox," from his skill in eluding the enemy. He con- 
 ducted them for some distance, and gave them direc- 
 tions to the next point, and from this they were di- 
 rected to another. Thus they were forwarded swiftly 
 and in comparative safety. Dorsey dwells with great 
 gusto upon the good food and generous treatment re- 
 ceived from these loyal mountaineers, who had no hope 
 of a reward, but were glad to do anything for their loved 
 and imperilled country. His expressions of gratitude 
 are also frequent and hearty. One man gave them the 
 only dollar he had, and would not hear of a refusal. 
 Some very narrow escapes were run even after they 
 were thus among friends, but they finally reached Som- 
 erset, Kentucky. At first they were received with 
 some suspicion by the Union officials, but, as soon as 
 their true character was established, they enjoyed the 
 enthusiastic welcome accorded to each one of the rail- 
 road party who returned from "the valley of the 
 shadow of death." 
 
274 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 
 
 No fugitives passed through more romantic adven- 
 tures than Wood and Wilson. The southward course 
 they took saved them from an energetic pursuit, but 
 their unwillingness to trust the negroes exposed them 
 to imminent peril of starvation. The idea that any of 
 our party would seek for the Gulf blockading squadron 
 probably never entered the head of any pursuer. It 
 was well that this route was chosen by Wilson, for in 
 no other way could he possibly have succeeded in car- 
 rying his sick comrade with him. The manner in 
 which poor Wood, who had been for months suffering 
 from fever, and was scarcely able to walk about the 
 jail, was taken from "Atlanta to the sea" by a starving 
 comrade, would seem a most improbable invention if 
 met in a work of fiction. I extract the complete ac- 
 count of the escape, with a few unimportant omissions, 
 from "The Adventures of Alf. Wilson/' written by 
 himself, and first published in book form in Toledo, 
 1880. The account begins in the Atlanta jail-yard. 
 The necessity for immediate flight was first seen by 
 Wood, who exclaimed, — 
 
 " ' Alf, come on, quick ! the boys are getting over the fence at 
 the back of the jail ; hurry up, for there's a company of guards 
 coming double-quick.' 
 
 " This was my old comrade, Mark Wood, and his voice was 
 the first warning I had of the danger that threatened me, or of 
 the necessary change in our programme. 
 
 111 Then bounce that fence!' I yelled. "We both reached the 
 top of the high fence at the same instant, and not a second too 
 soon, for, as I glanced over my shoulder from the fence-top, I 
 saw the guards with gleaming muskets pouring in at the gate, 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF 275 
 
 and before I could throw my leg over and spring off a volley 
 was fired, the balls rattling and whizzing all about us. One bul- 
 let struck the picket under my thigh, and so close that the splin- 
 ters lacerated my flesh, and as my feet struck the ground on the 
 outside, I said to Mark, ' I am hit.' 
 
 " ' Get up and run like !' exclaimed Mark. 
 
 " I was on my feet in an instant, not knowing whether my 
 thigh was shattered or not. As I ran I clapped my hand there 
 to see if it bled freely. I pulled away a lot of splinters, and had 
 the satisfaction of finding that I had received only a slight flesh 
 wound made by the picket splinters. Never did I make better 
 use of my legs ; there was need of it, too, for the balls were spat- 
 ting about us in the dirt uncomfortably near. They came so 
 thick and closely at one time that I was almost certain that one 
 •or both of us would be hit ; but we answered their cries of ' Halt ! 
 halt!' by springing forward with all the speed we could com- 
 mand. 
 
 " It was about a mile before we struck the cover of woods, and 
 then the trees were so scattering that they afforded only a doubt- 
 ful place for concealment. It was now every man for himself, 
 and, like the Duke of Wellington at Waterloo, we longed for 
 darkness or some other friendly interposition in our behalf. 
 Wood had come up with me, and we dodged stealthily from one 
 thicket to another until it began to grow quite dark, when we 
 breathed easier and acted more deliberately, although we well 
 knew we were not out of danger yet. 
 
 " About this time, we became aware that we were approach- 
 ing a public road. We soon had warning that it was much bet- 
 ter to halt, and not attempt to cross the road. The sound of gal- 
 loping horsemen in great numbers and the clanking of sabres 
 could be heard near by. We were so nearly out of breath that 
 we could run no farther for the present, and, on looking hastily 
 about, discovered a low, scrubby pine-bush surrounded with 
 shrubbery. We both darted under its protecting shelter, and 
 lay flat on the ground on our faces, neither having spoken a word 
 to the other for some minutes, on account of our great exhaus- 
 tion. We were so near the road that we could plainly see all 
 the movements of the rebel cavalry, who were deploying their 
 line something in the manner of skirmishers. 
 
 " This presented an unexpected difficulty in our way. If we 
 had reached the road two minutes sooner we might have crossed 
 without being seen, but we could not have been there an instant 
 sooner than we were, unless we had had wings, for we had both 
 run until we were ready to fall in our tracks. W T e had become 
 separated from the rest of the party, but could still hear the re- 
 ports of muskets, and knew that the pursuit was still going on, 
 but how many of the escaping party had been killed was beyond 
 our knowledge, though I had seen Captain Fry reeling and stum- 
 bling in a manner that led me to fear he was shot. We were 
 thus compelled to lie quietly for some time. While we were 
 
276 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 waiting here the cavalry was relieved by infantry, and formed 
 into squads to scour the woods. 
 
 " The place where we lay was not over fifteen steps from where- 
 the infantry sentinel was stationed. We could hear every word 
 he spoke to the man on the next post. Their comments on the 
 affair at the jail would have been amusing to us under less serious 
 circumstances, and I wish I could give their words exactly now, 
 for they were ludicrous enough. 
 
 "Some time late in the evening, while we were still lying 
 under the bush, we became aware.that some one was approach- 
 ing us very quietly. In the dark we could recognize the dim 
 outlines of two men, and we felt certain, as they came so near us 
 that we could have almost touched them, that it was two of our 
 comrades ; but we dare not even whisper to them, lest we should 
 cause them to betray themselves, and, perhaps, us too. They 
 were, evidently, from the cautious manner in which they moved, 
 aware that they were very close to the rebel guards. These men, 
 I afterwards learned, were Porter and Wollam. 
 
 " After waiting a short time to see if they were discovered, 
 and hearing nothing of them, we began to crawl out, concluding 
 that there was no probability of the guards leaving that night. 
 I should judge the sentries were stationed about thirty paces 
 apart, and to get out there was no alternative but to pass be- 
 tween them. I selected a place and crawled to the other side of 
 the road safely, and then lay perfectly still, while Mark did the 
 same. My hair fairly stood on end as he wriggled along, for it 
 seemed to me once or twice as if one of the sentries would cer- 
 tainly discover him before he would reach me. This was one of 
 our most narrow escapes. 
 
 " We were no more than safely across the road when a new 
 and unseen obstacle, in the shape of a high fence, presented itself^ 
 over which we must climb before we could breathe free. We 
 crawled carefully to the fence, and by great patience and much 
 care, one at a time, managed to get over without attracting the 
 attention of the guards. We felt as if we had accomplished 
 quite an achievement when at last we had escaped beyond the 
 fence a few steps and found ourselves in an open field, where we 
 could push ahead noiselessly, and when, at last, we got away en- 
 tirely out of hearing, we struck out on a full run. At the far 
 side of the field we came to a small stream, in which we travelled 
 some distance in the water, to take precaution against pursuit by 
 dogs. Soon after, we struck a thick piece of woods on the slopo 
 of a hill-side, which we continued to ascend under the thick fo 
 liage for some time. But, at last, exhausted Nature asserted her 
 full sway, and we were compelled to lie down and rest out of 
 sheer inability to go farther. 
 
 " Up to this time, I think, neither of us had spoken any nore 
 than if we had been dumb. As we threw ourselves on the 
 ground, without breath or strength to go farther, we began to- 
 realize the weak, helpless condition we were in. It did not ap~ 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 277 
 
 pear as if our limbs were strong enough to carry us five miles a 
 day. When we looked forward to the long journey ahead of us, 
 the hunger and fatigue, it looked a little discouraging. I think, 
 however, a portion of this sense of physical prostration was 
 caused by the sudden relaxation from the great mental strain 
 and excitement which had been upon us from the time of the 
 jail-break and immediately preceding it. This, with the intense 
 exertion in running, in our enfeebled condition, had wellnigh 
 unnerved us. We were wild, too, almost, with joy at our escape. 
 
 "But we had but little time to rest, rejoice, or feel thankful 
 in. Many contingencies yet stood between us and the goal of 
 our hopes. Many armed enemies ; many long, weary miles of 
 travel; many rivers lay across our path, and many days of hun- 
 ger and many sleepless nights, if we would succeed. 
 
 " Before we escaped from the prison I studied over the subject 
 of routes very carefully. I had seen enough of night travel in 
 the mountains about Chattanooga and along the Tennessee 
 Biver, and well knew that the probabilities of our being picked 
 up, should we go in that direction, would be very much greater. 
 I therefore decided in my own mind that I would strike out for 
 the Gulf, and try to reach some of the vessels of the Federal 
 blockading squadron. While this would be much the longest 
 route, — the distance, as near as I could calculate, being ovei 
 three hundred miles, — I thought there would be less vigilance 
 and liability of pursuit in that direction. In this conjecture it 
 turned out that I was correct. The country was entirely un- 
 known to me, except a slight general idea I had of it from the 
 school geographies. I only knew that the waters of the Chatta- 
 hoochee Biver, which flowed west of Atlanta, entered the Gulf. 
 
 " While we rested on the hill-side I communicated, in a whis- 
 per, to Mark my views, and he readily agreed that he would go 
 in any direction I thought best. Accordingly, we rose up and 
 walked to an open place where we could see the stars, and soon 
 determined our course, which was to be slightly south of west, 
 and at once we set out as fast as we could travel. We spoke no 
 words as we walked on, and went as noiselessly as possible, for 
 we were on the look-out for scouting parties of cavalrymen that 
 might be prowling about. 
 
 " We soon came to the railroad track leading from Atlanta to 
 Columbus, and knew from this that our course was about right. 
 Our march led us through some rough country, and we were 
 compelled to rest quite frequently, so that when it began to grow 
 light in the east we estimated that we were about eight miles 
 from the prison. We sought out a secluded retreat for the day, 
 and after getting each of us a stout stick, which would answer 
 either as a weapon or a walking-stick, we lay down and slept 
 until late in the afternoon. W T e woke up much rested, but were 
 so lame and our feet were so sore that we could hardly take a 
 step without excruciating pain. We were hungry, and the 
 -scantv morsel of corn-bread we had brought from the prison the 
 
 24 
 
278 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 previous evening did not go far towards satisfying our sharp ap- 
 petites. But it was all we"had, and we ate it and were thankful, 
 although we did not know where or when we would get our 
 next rations. 
 
 " I now saw a difficulty in this attempt to get away that we 
 did not encounter in our first attempt to reach the Federal lines. 
 Our clothes had become dirty and ragged, and we had a sort of 
 jail-bird look, that it seemed to me would betray us if we were 
 seen. I was brought to a realization of this fact as I looked at 
 Wood, when we sat together in silence beneath the great tree 
 where we had taken shelter, waiting for the friendly mantle of 
 darkness to shield our movements. And I suppose my own ap- 
 pearance was no more prepossessing than his. The miserable 
 garments he wore did not cover his nakedness. His face was be- 
 grimed with dirt almost set in the skin. He had become thin and 
 emaciated with fever, and had a ravenous appetite ; his eyes were 
 sunken in his head and seemed to have the wild, unnatural glare 
 of a madman, which at times almost made me shudder. The 
 poor fellow's pitiable appearance, as he sat there despondently and 
 longingly gazing down on the beautiful valley below, was such 
 as to appeal to a heart of stone. Yet I knew that it was unsafe 
 for us to go to a house, and we agreed not to be seen by a human 
 being if we could avoid it. I felt certain that if we should meet 
 any one, our appearance would at once betray us. "We were in 
 a country where we could not expect to find a friend, unless, 
 possibly, it might be the negroes, of whom, as a class, we knew 
 but very little. We were so weak, and the mental strain and 
 long-continued anxiety, in which we had lived from day to day, 
 had had the effect of making us, I may say, foolishly suspicious 
 and timid of everything. We were startled at every sudden 
 noise, and crouched like sneaking wolves from the sight of man. 
 
 " While in the midst of unpleasant thoughts, Mark broke the 
 long silence by raising his head and saying, < Alf, it is time for 
 us to go.' 
 
 " Our journey that night took us through a corn-field, where 
 we pulled a few ears of corn and chewed it as we went along. I 
 remember it was hard and made my jaws very tired, but it helped, 
 to quiet my gnawing hunger. It was much better than nothing. 
 After a toilsome night's journey, guided by the stars, and over a 
 very rough country, in which we entirely avoided roads, we again 
 secreted ourselves as the streaks of gray began to appear in the 
 east, and, after scraping up a pile of leaves, lay down for the day. 
 When we awoke, late "in the afternoon, we found that our feet 
 were so bruised and sore, and that we were otherwise so lame, 
 and withal so weak from hunger, that it taxed our endurance to 
 the utmost to take a single step. We each took from our pockets 
 an ear of corn, and after crunching and swallowing what we 
 could, we put the rest in our clothes and hobbled off, making but- 
 very slow time for the first mile or so. It was in the month of 
 October, and the nights were pretty cool, which, in our poorly- 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 279 
 
 clad condition, compelled us to keep moving all the time to keep 
 comfortably warm. 
 
 "The next morning came and still we had not reached the 
 river. Again we hid ourselves and slep t through the day. When 
 night came and we tried to walk, we found our feet in such a 
 deplorable condition that it did not seem possible for us to go 
 farther. Mark crawled some distance on his hands and knees, 
 and, looking back at me, said in an appealing tone, ' Alf, what's a 
 fellow's life but a curse to him when he has to drag it out in this 
 way ? I would rather be dead and done with it.' 
 
 " I encouraged him, telling him the worst was over and we 
 vvould soon reach the river. I suppose we had shaped our course 
 a little too far south, and thus made the distance longer than it 
 would otherwise have been. We struggled on for some time, 
 crawling where the ground was stony, and stopping very often to 
 temporarily quell the pain in our feet. I was a little ahead, and, 
 as the breeze fanned my aching temples, I thought I heard to 
 our right the lull of running water. I told Mark and cheered 
 him up. We forgot our tortures for the time being and scrambled 
 on quite lively, and soon after had the satisfaction of standing on 
 the banks of the Chattahoochee. 
 
 " De Soto did not feel more joy when he first discovered the 
 Mississippi, the great Father of Waters, nor was the ecstasy of 
 Balboa greater, when, from the cloud-capped summits of Darien, 
 his eyes first beheld the vast expanse of water which he named the 
 Pacific Ocean. Like that great discoverer, we waded out into 
 the water, carrying neither naked sword nor the banner of our 
 country like he, to take possession of our discovery in the name 
 of our rulers, but to bathe our painful feet and cool our parched 
 throats. 
 
 " We made certain of the direction the river current ran, and 
 started southward in high hopes, although the temptation to go 
 northward to our friends was very strong. We now wanted a 
 boat, and, not long after we started, fortune had another pleasant 
 surprise in store for us, for we came upon a skiff safely moored, 
 with lock and chain, to a tree. After carefully inspecting the 
 surroundings to see that no prying eyes were peering on us, we 
 1 loosened' the lock with a stone, and in a few minutes after were 
 smoothly gliding down the current of the great river, and I doubt 
 if two more joyful mortals ever navigated a canoe than we two, 
 with that stolen little craft. 
 
 " What a happy change ! Our weary limbs and painful feet 
 now had a rest, and yet we were gliding noiselessly on our jour- 
 ney. What wonderful teachers hardship and stern necessity are ! 
 Discontented mortals do not half appreciate the blessings they 
 have until they have been pupils in the school of adversit}\ I 
 felt as if this chilly night's ride, in a little stolen boat, on a strange 
 river, whose shores were hidden by Plutonian shadows, was the 
 best and most grateful that I ever had, or ever expected to enjoy. 
 
 " We pulled off our old boots and bathed our lacerated feet in 
 
280 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 the water, and quenched the tormenting thirst caused by the in- 
 digestible hard corn, which was now our only nourishment. We 
 kept our paddles pretty busy, as we wished to get as far away as 
 possible from where we took the boat before the dawn of day. 
 When daylight began to appear, we paddled our craft into a 
 bayou, safe from view, and secreted ourselves in a thicket for the 
 day. 
 
 ''Four days and nights had now passed since we had eaten 
 food, except the morsel of corn-bread we brought out of the 
 prison. We lay down to sleep the day away, but between our 
 great hunger and the swarms of mosquitoes we could get but 
 little rest. I could, while sleeping, see in my dreams tables 
 spread and groaning with loads of good things to eat ; bread, 
 meat, cheese, coffee, biscuit, and butter were all within my reach, 
 and were vanishing before my ravenous appetite, when, in the 
 midst of the great pleasures of this feast, I would suddenly 
 waken to a sense of the reality of the case, and what a madden- 
 ing disappointment I would feel. With this disturbed sort of 
 rest we worried through the day, the demands of hunger and our 
 stomachs getting the better of nature's demand for rest, until at 
 last we grew desperate, and at early twilight, in the evening, 
 pulled out of the little bayou, determined on a raid of some sort 
 on a house for food. 
 
 " We spied a house some distance from the river-bank, which 
 we thought from appearances we could capture with a plausible 
 story or by force. 
 
 "On approaching, we saw in its immediate vicinity quite a 
 number of negro cabins, and in the yard surrounding the house 
 about twenty blood-hounds chained to the fence, indicating that 
 these were the premises of an extensive planter. The only occu- 
 pants of the house were an old man and woman. We apologized 
 for disturbing them, and told them we weresoldiers who had been 
 on furlough returning to our regiments at Atlanta, and wished 
 directions to the ferry (we had discovered a ferry as we came 
 down) ; also, that we were hungry and wanted to get something 
 to eat, provided they felt like feeding hungry soldiers without 
 money, as we had had no pay for some time, and were both money- 
 less and in bad health, Mark's appearance proving this latter 
 assertion. It was quite dark, however, and they could not see 
 us very distinctly, but they evidently credited our story, for they 
 told us to be seated and we would soon be made welcome to such 
 food as they had. 
 
 "They were a couple of quite intelligent but unsophisticated 
 old people, in comfortable circumstances, living, as most South- 
 erners did, away from any highway, and we gained their confi- 
 dence so far as to feel ourselves assured from suspicion. I had 
 been in Dixie so long that I had acquired, from the guards and 
 •citizens, their vernacular of speech quite perfectly ; besides this, 
 we had learned the names of officers and the number of different 
 regiments, such as the Eighth Georgia Cavalry, Fifth Tennessee 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 281 
 
 Infantry, etc., until we were able to tell quite a plausible story, 
 if not too closely questioned. 
 
 " We asked the old man if there was any late news. He said, 
 1 Nothing, except that the Yankee raiders had seized the Atlanta 
 jailer, overpowered the guards, and a number of them escaped 
 and had not yet been caught.' We expressed great surprise that 
 such a piece of audacity could be made successful in Atlanta. 
 The old man said, ' They were a desperate, dangerous lot of 
 scoundrels, who ought to have been hung long ago.' He said 
 many of them stood up and fought the soldiers with clubs and 
 bricks, even after the guards had shot them through, and finally 
 they jumped the high fence and ran like deer. 
 
 " In the mean time we had devoured everything the good 
 woman had set before us on the table. We were ashamed, but 
 our hunger was so much stronger than our sense of shame that 
 we could not leave off, and, if we had not been in a hurry, we 
 would have waited for her to have prepared another meal for us. 
 She said she regretted that she had not more cooked to set before 
 us, but we told her she had been very kind, and thanked them, 
 at the same time bidding them good-night, when we started off, 
 as they supposed, for the ferry. A short time afterwards we were 
 in our boat pulling down-stream with more vigorous energy than 
 we had before. We kept up a steady stroke of the paddles for 
 some hours, feeling that each stroke placed so much more dis- 
 tance between us and the prison. 
 
 " While we were thus moving along with steady, cautious 
 stroke, high in the hopes of the future, I suddenly, quicker than 
 a flash, found myself lying flat on my back in the river. What 
 on earth had happened I did not know, the accident had been so 
 sudden. I thought of earthquakes, whales, sharks, torpedoes, 
 and many other things. Luckily, one of my feet caught on the 
 side of the boat, and I drifted with it until Mark came to my as- 
 sistance and pulled me out. The cause of my mishap had been a 
 ferry-boat wire, which was stretched across the river, and hung 
 just low enough to catch me fairly as I sat in the stern of the boat. 
 It struck Mark, but he sat in the middle, and fell into the bottom 
 of the boat. We were going at a good speed, and the collision 
 came so suddenly that it is a wonder we did not fare worse. For- 
 tunately, there were no guards at the ferry, so we had no cause 
 to apprehend discovery or molestation. My greatest mishap was 
 a thorough wetting, for the night was frosty and cold, and caused 
 me to chill. 
 
 '• This was followed in the after part of the night by a stupor 
 that I could not shake off, and my continued efforts at the pad- 
 dle had wellnigh exhausted me. Mark could not manage the 
 boat very well, as he had tried it a number of times. But I felt 
 that I must have rest and sleep, and so gave the boat over into 
 his hands, enjoining him to keep it in the current. I lay down 
 in the bottom of the boat, and soon sank into a state of forgetful- 
 ness and sleep. I do not know how long I had slept, but some 
 
 24* 
 
282 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 time in the night Mark aroused me, and told me we could go n<. 
 farther, as we had come ' to the end of the river.' It was some 
 time before he could awaken me fully to consciousness, so that I 
 could comprehend our situation. 
 
 " At last I began to look around, to determine what Mark's 
 ' end of the river' meant. I soon discovered that he had run the 
 boat away under a ledge of the mountain, and a dim light could 
 only be seen in one direction. All else around us was impene- 
 trable darkness. I took the paddle, and worked the boat in the 
 direction of the light, and in a little while we emerged from be- 
 neath this overhanging mountain ledge, and again reached the cur- 
 rent of the river, down which the boat was soon rapidly gliding. 
 Mark now discovered that the ' end of the river' had not yet been 
 reached, but he did not care to take charge of the boat again. 
 
 "Shortly after this adventure we perceived that we were not 
 to have smooth sailing all the way. The river began to grow 
 rough, and the water ran over benches and ledges of rocks, and, 
 in places, with great velocity, so much so that we narrowly es- 
 caped being ' broken up' on several occasions during this night's 
 journey. We passed over a number of places that we would not 
 have dared to risk in daylight, when we could have seen the dan- 
 ger. It seemed to grow worse and worse as we went on, when 
 daylight warned us that it was time to tie up and hide, which we 
 did, and, the day being warm and pleasant, we had a comfortable 
 rest, — the best since our escape. 
 
 " On the following night we came to a mill-dam, where the 
 water, judging from the noise, poured over in great volume and 
 force. We manoeuvred around for some time above it, not 
 knowing what to do, but finally discovered what appeared to be 
 an apron near the centre of the dam, and decided to risk run- 
 ning it. Accordingly, we rowed up-stream some distance to get 
 under good headway, then turning the head of the boat down- 
 stream, we bent to our paddles with all our might. We came 
 down with the velocity of an express-train. What we supposed 
 might have been an apron, was nothing but a break in the dam, 
 and over it we shot like an arrow, shutting our eyes and holding 
 our breath. In an instant after, we landed (luckily right side 
 up) away below in the midst of the angry, foaming torrent, and 
 plying our paddles right vigorously, and keeping the bow of our 
 boat down-stream, we rode out safely, but then and there ' swore 
 off' on running mill-dams in the night. 
 
 " We continued our journey, though the river was still rough 
 and growing worse. We were constantly among rocks and 
 foaming, headlong torrents of water, while steep rocky walls 
 confined the stream to very narrow limits, and dark, shadowy 
 mountain peaks loomed up in the background, reminding us of 
 the Tennessee about Chattanooga. We went on from bad to 
 worse, until at last, during the latter part of the night, we were 
 incautiously drawn into a gorge, where it seemed that the de- 
 struction of our boat was inevitable. Such was the force and 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 283 
 
 velocity of the water, that we lost all control of the boat, and in 
 one instant would be spinning around in a furious eddy until 
 our heads were fairly dizzy, and in the next we would be dashed 
 against the rocks until it seemed as if our boat would be splin- 
 tered to pieces. We regarded our escape here as the narrowest 
 we had made, and as quick as we could do so with safety we 
 landed on the rocks and, with many regrets, abandoned our little 
 craft to begin a tedious, toilsome land journey of three days and 
 nights over rocky hills, bluffs, and mountains along the river. 
 
 "Just as we landed from the boat Mark started to walk out T 
 and, losing his balance, fell headlong into the river. With con- 
 siderable difficulty I fished him out, and, the earl}' morning 
 being quite cool, the poor fellow was chilled through and 
 through, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I finally 
 succeeded in getting him up into the mountains, and continued 
 to exercise him by walking, so as to get up a good circulation of 
 his blood. But he became so benumbed that I finally let him 
 lie down, and gathered a lot of cedar boughs and piled them 
 thickly over him, and then crawled in with him myself, and 
 kept him as warm as possible. Here we slept and rested until 
 late in the afternoon of that day, which became very warm 
 under the bright rays of the sun. 
 
 " Our progress was very slow, and towards the last extremely 
 painful. The old bruises and blisters on our feet, which were 
 not entirely healed, came back worse than ever, and much of the 
 time we crept along on the rocks on our hands and knees, be- 
 lieving that if once we could get below this range of mountains r 
 we would find navigable waters. We came in sight of several 
 isolated cabins in these wild, rocky hills, where we managed to 
 beg a little food on two different occasions, which helped us very 
 much. The suffering w T e endured on our last night's travel I 
 cannot describe. It seemed as if we must give up and die where 
 we were. But at last, when daylight came, to our great delight 
 we saw the spires and smoke-stacks of a town in the distance. 
 We knew this to be Columbus, Georgia, and that when we got 
 below it the river was navigable clear to the Gulf. 
 
 "We now deemed it prudent to hide ourselves for the day, 
 which we had not done in the mountains, and wait for the 
 friendly cloak of darkness. When night came we made a long, 
 careful detour away out around the suburbs of the town, and at 
 last had the satisfaction of again reaching the river-bank, below 
 the town, where we found good shelter among the dense grape- 
 vines and drift- wood. By this time it was nearly morning again r 
 and, like beasts of prey, we betook ourselves to a safe hiding- 
 place. 
 
 " During all the time we had been in the vicinity of the town 
 we had heard a constant clattering sound, as of a hundred work- 
 men with hammers. This noise came from near the i'iver, where 
 there appeared also to be a great light. When daylight came 
 the noi,-e still continued, and we were near enough so that we 
 
284 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 could see that it was caused by a large number of workmen en- 
 gaged on a vessel, which they were covering with iron. The 
 boat appeared to be very large and of great strength, and evi- 
 dently was intended for a warlike purpose. On closer inspection 
 the following night I found that she was a powerfully-built 
 gunboat, which they were evidently in great haste to complete, 
 as the hammers of the workmen never ceased on her, night or 
 day, nor for a single moment. 
 
 " This gunboat was none other than the rebel ram ' Chattahoo- 
 chee,' a formidable iron monster, built as an engine of destruc- 
 tion for the blockading fleet in Appalachicola Bay. The first 
 knowledge the Navy Department had of her was through Wood 
 and myself. The ram, on her first downward trip, blew up near 
 the mouth of Flint River, and never reached the Gulf. 
 
 " Our great anxiety now was to secure a boat. Wood was so 
 lame he could not walk, and I was not much better. This de- 
 layed us here two days and nights. During the nights I was 
 prowling about, up and down, trying to discover some sort of a 
 craft that would float. In my reconnoitring about the gunboat 
 I had discovered an old skiff chained to a stump quite near and 
 in plain sight of the workmen, to some of whom, no doubt, it 
 belonged. I secured a stout stick for a lever, and crept to the 
 stump to which the boat was chained, when, watching my op- 
 portunity, I got a pry in such a manner as to break the lock on 
 the chain. The lights shone so brightly that I could plainly see 
 the men's eyes, and I yevy much feared they would notice me. 
 However, I worked off with the boat carefully, and half an hour 
 after I had Mark aboard, and we were pulling rapidly down- 
 stream. We found our prize to be a leaky old concern, and one 
 of us was constantly busy keeping her bailed out. 
 
 " After we had drifted down some miles, we spied three boats tied 
 to the shore on the Alabama side of the river, and as we had been 
 giving our attention entirely to the Georgians all along, we con- 
 cluded to trade boats on that side of the river, provided we could 
 secure a better boat. Just as we had loosened the one we selected, 
 three men with a pack of dogs came down the hill towards us, 
 and the head man, evidently the owner, began hallooing to us 
 and calling us slanderous names, such as thieves and the like. 
 We did not stop to bandy words with the fellows, but speedily 
 shoved all the boats into the river, and took a course up the 
 river, as though we were going towards Columbus. They rent 
 the air with curses upon our heads. In the course of fifteen or 
 twenty minutes they had secured the boats we shoved into the 
 stream, and with the lights they carried we could distinctly see 
 that they were bent on pursuing us. We took a wide circuit, 
 and then headed downward under cover of the willows, behind 
 several small islands near the Georgia shore, and came out in the 
 main stream far below the islands, while we had the satisfaction 
 of seeing the lights of our pursuers disappearing up the river 
 and prowling about the upper end of the islands, which we were 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 285 
 
 now leaving far behind. We soon lost sight of them, and the 
 strong presumption is that they never succeeded in finding their 
 boat. 
 
 " We increased our speed, and kept under the shadows of the 
 wooded shores as much as possible, congratulating each other on 
 our lucky boat trade. With a good boat and an open river we 
 felt now that our chances of escape were exceedingly good, and 
 our spirits were buoyant and hopes high, although our stomachs 
 were craving food. But on we swept, hour after hour, down the 
 broad river, happy in the thought that we were fast placing 
 scores of miles between us and the hated prison. The>,rest given 
 our feet had much allayed the pain we suffered, and when morn- 
 ing came and we had secreted ourselves for the day, we slept well,, 
 but awoke in the afternoon ravenously desperate for want of 
 something to eat. 
 
 " We went out, and, reconnoitring a little, discovered a corn- 
 field. Making sure that there was no one about, we stole into 
 the field and found plenty of corn and pumpkins. The hard 
 corn and river water did not go well together, and proved to be- 
 an unpleasant diet to us, so we broke up the pumpkins, ate freely 
 of the seed, and filled our pockets with more for lunch, each of 
 us taking also a few ears of corn. By the time we got back it 
 was nearly dark, and we pulled out. The pumpkin-seed diet, 
 poor as it was, helped us wonderfully, and we made a big night's 
 journey, passing a steamboat upward bound, which we dodged 
 by pulling under the shadows of the timber and low-hanging 
 bushes. 
 
 u Thus we progressed, travelling by boat at night and laying 
 by in the daytime. If any reader of this story has ever made a 
 trip on the lower end of the Chattahoochee Kiver, I think he 
 or she will agree with me when I say that the river scenery is 
 peculiarly monotonous and causes a sense of loneliness. It is a 
 vast water-path through dense forests of cypress and other 
 swamp-growing timber. On either side, to the right and left, were 
 endless swamps covered with water, and the river-channel was 
 only observable by its being free from logs and gigantic trees. 
 Great festoons of gray and sombre moss hung suspended from 
 even the topmost limbs of these trees, reaching clear down to the 
 water, and floated and swung to the music of the sighing winds. 
 Perhaps it was the circumstances in our case that made us feel 
 so, but I remember it as a dismal, lonesome journey. Sometimes 
 we would not see a sign of civilization for forty-eight hours at a 
 stretch. 
 
 " Besides the torments of hunger, our nights were made ahnost 
 unendurable by the swarms of blood-thirsty mosquitoes, which 
 came upon us in clouds. I did think that I had learned consider- 
 able about mosquitoes in my boyhood days in the Black Swamp of 
 Northwestern Ohio, but for numbers, vocal powers, and ferocity 
 I will ' trot' the Chattahoochee swamp fellows out against any 
 others I have ever ' met up with.' The ragged clothing, which 
 
286 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 yet clung to our backs, did not much more than half cover us ; 
 especially was this the case with Wood, who was, I may truth- 
 fully say, half naked, and was thus doubly annoyed by the omni- 
 present 'skeeters.' And my own, condition was but little better. 
 To protect ourselves from the pests, we thatched our bodies all 
 over with great skeins of moss, and two more comical-looking 
 beings than we were, thus rigged out, it would be hard to ind, 
 but it baffled the bills of our tormentors. 
 
 ! 'We had two other annoyances, — moccasin-snakes and alli- 
 gators. The latter, with which the water swarmed as we went 
 farther to*wards the Gulf, were a terror to me. They were a 
 ferocious, hungry, dangerous-looking beast at best. We knew 
 but little of their habits. The largest water inhabitant I had 
 ever seen was a Maumee Kiver cat-fish, and the most dangerous, 
 a Black Swamp massasauger. Night or day these ' gators," as 
 the Southern negroes call them, like the mosquitoes, were always 
 within sight and hearing. Sometimes during the day, in order 
 to keep out of the water, we would take shelter in a pile of drift- 
 wood. When we would wake up, after a short nap, every old 
 log and hommock about us would be covered with 'gators.' 
 They would lie listlessly and lazily, with eyes almost shut, look- 
 ing hungrily and quizzically out of one corner of their wicked 
 peepers, as if waiting for us to leave, or for a chance to nab one 
 •of us by the leg or arm and run. Mark grew superstitious of 
 these creatures. He said he had read of wolves following a fam- 
 ished buffalo in the same manner, and that sharks would hover 
 around a ship from which a corpse was to be cast overboard, and 
 that, too, even days before death had occurred or was even sus- 
 pected by the sailors. But the 'gators' were cowardly fellows, 
 and, on the least demonstration on our part, would scramble 
 into the water. Still we feared that they might steal upon and 
 lay hold of us with their powerful jaws while we were asleep. 
 We had learned that they were not apt to attack, except when 
 the object of their voracious appetites lay quiet ; but, when once 
 they did lay hold, that they were hard to beat off. They will 
 drag their victim, be it man or beast, instantly under the water, 
 where the struggle soon ends. 
 
 " After enduring hunger as long as we possibly could, we were 
 finally forced a second time since leaving Columbus to go in 
 search of something to eat. This, I think, was about five or ten 
 miles above Chattahoochee landing. It is not necessary to relate 
 the particulars of our search for a human habitation, and the 
 story of deception we told. It was a little before dark when we 
 struck out on foot so weak, hungry, and faint that we could not 
 walk many steps without resting, in search of something or any- 
 thing we could devour. We were successful, or partially so, at 
 least, and came back safely, much strengthened, as well as elated 
 over our good luck, when, to our great dismay and chagrin, we 
 found that our boat had been stolen during our absence. 
 
 " Tt was evident some one had seen us land and watched until 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 287 
 
 we left, and then taken the boat. I cannot describe our feelings. 
 We scarcely knew what to do. The night was very dark, and it 
 rained incessantly. We waded about in the water, tall grass and 
 cane, and after a while found a little mound or hommock, which 
 projected above the water, and on which we perched ourselves 
 for the night. Such a dismal, long, rainy night as it was, too ! 
 It did seem as if the mosquitoes would carry us away piecemeal 
 towards morning, when the rain had ceased. Had it not been 
 for the food we had eaten, I believe we would have given up in 
 despair. When morning came, we waded up and down in the 
 cane and grass all forenoon, and about the only discovery we made 
 was that another river came in just below us, and we could not 
 go farther without a boat. 
 
 " During the afternoon I descried something on the far side 
 of the river that looked like a boat partly sunk in the water, one 
 end only of which was out. The next trouble was to get to it, 
 as the river was about three-quarters of a mile wide, as near as 
 we could judge. We found an old piece of plank, which we 
 lashed on three flat rails with a grape-vine, and with a piece of 
 narrow stave for a paddle and to fight off ' gators,' I twined my 
 legs firmly around the centre of the frail craft, while Mark pushed 
 it oflf into the stream and stood at the edge of the grass watching 
 me. The raft sunk down until the water came about my waist, 
 but I stuck to it, and after about an hour's hard work I effected 
 a landing on the far side, and not long after found myself re- 
 warded in the possession of a much better boat than the one we 
 had lost the night before. I was not long in bailing out the 
 water and rowing her back to where Mark was, whose gratitude 
 found expression in tears and hearty hand-shaking, as he crept 
 into the boat with me. 
 
 " We now plied our paddles energetically for a while, until we 
 felt sure we had passed out of reach of the owners of the boat, 
 when we put into the cane and secreted ourselves until night. 
 After this mishap in losing our boat, we resolved that we would 
 not both leave again while our journey lasted, starve or no starve. 
 During the following day, while we were laid up waiting for 
 night and fighting mosquitoes, I went out, skulking about to see 
 what I could see, and in passing through an old field found some 
 fish-hooks and lines in an old vacant cabin. I appropriated them, 
 and we found them a godsend to us, for they proved the means 
 of keeping us from actual starvation. 
 
 " We must have had a touch of scurvy, for our mouths and 
 gums had become feverish, and our teeth were loose, and would 
 bleed constantly when we attempted to chew the corn. This was 
 the condition we were in when, providentially, we became pos- 
 sessed of the fish-hooks and lines. 
 
 "And now for a feast on raw cat-fish, of which we caught a 
 plentiful supply as we journeyed on in the night. I have pre- 
 viously neglected to mention that I had with me an old one- 
 bladed knife without any back, which was our only weapoa. d»- 
 
288 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 fensive or offensive. This old knife I had secreted when we were 
 in the Atlanta prison, and had kept it with nie as a precious treas- 
 ure during all our wanderings. With this knife and our lingers 
 we managed to skin and dress the fish, which we ate raw with 
 our soaked corn. Matches we had none, nor had we been able 
 to get any, and so we had no fire. I could eat only a mouthful 
 or two of the raw fish at a time. My stomach was weak and 
 feverish, and rebelled against the flesh. Still it tasted palatable. 
 
 " Mark, poor, hungry fellow, tore it from the bones in great 
 mouthfuls, like a ravenous wolf, until I would beg of him to de- 
 sist, fearing the results. He would sit and crunch the bloody flesh, 
 and look at me with a wild, strange stare, and never speak a 
 word. His eyes were sunken away in his head, almost out of 
 sight, and as he would seize a fresh piece the pupils of his eyes 
 would dilate with the gloating, ferocious expression of a panther 
 or other carnivorous wild beast. I had frequently heard of men 
 losing their reason and going mad from the effects of protracted 
 hunger, and I sometimes shuddered as I looked at its telling ef- 
 fects on poor Mark's wasted frame, and the unnatural glare of 
 his eyes. He would mutter and groan in his sleep, and some- 
 times scream out as if pierced by a knife, when he would sud- 
 denly start up and call my name. Towards the last of our jour- 
 ney his condition was much of the time a cause of great anxiety 
 to me. Still, after we began to eat the fish he seemed much bet- 
 ter, and I only feared the unnatural quantities of the raw flesh 
 would kill him. 
 
 " We were now nearing the bay, as was plain to be seen, for 
 on each succeeding morning the river had grown wider. Finally 
 we became well satisfied that we were nearing a large town, 
 which afterwards proved to be Appalachicola, and this made us 
 anxious to learn something of the state of affairs below, — whether 
 there were rebel picket-boats, or obstructions, such as torpedo- 
 boats and the like. 
 
 "About this time we discovered a cabin some distance from 
 the shore, and, to have a plausible excuse, I took an old pipe 
 Mark had, and filled it with a few crumbs of tobacco which C 
 fished from my old coat-linings, and then taking a piece of rotten 
 wood which would retain fire, I left Mark with the boat and 
 walked over to the house to get a light for my pipe. The occu- 
 pants of the cabin proved to be an old Scotchman and his wife. 
 He was very inquisitive, and asked more questions than I cared 
 to answer. But I managed to evade suspicion, and at the same 
 time gained considerable information. I learned that we were 
 about five miles above Appalachicola, and that the Federal block- 
 ading squadron was stationed at the mouth of the bay, eighteen 
 miles below the city. I hurried back to the boat, and found 
 Mark rejoicing over a little armful of sweet potatoes he had 
 stolen from a negro's canoe, which he had discovered in my ab- 
 sence. 
 
 " We got into the boat and at once paddled to the other side 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 289 
 
 of the bay or river, where we entered into an inlet or creek, up 
 which we ran for some distance, when we came to a dense cane- 
 brake. Here we secreted ourselves and built a little fire, roasted 
 fish and potatoes, parched corn, and dined in right royal style, 
 although we felt the need of a little salt. Two hungry wolves 
 never ate more ravenously than we did, although we were obliged 
 to restrain ourselves, and leave off while yet hungry. It was 
 with the utmost difficulty that I absolutely forced Mark to quit. 
 After eating enough for four men, as I thought, he still begged 
 for more. I finally induced him to go to sleep, and stored away 
 some of the cooked fish and sweet potatoes for the next day. 
 
 " The information we had gained was invaluable to us, al- 
 though I felt I had obtained it at some risk. "When night came 
 on we pulled out and passed down on the opposite side of the 
 bay from the city, slowly and cautiously. We had moss in the 
 bottom, on the sides, and in the seats of our boat for our comfort. 
 As soon as we had gone well past the city, whose bright lights 
 we could plainly see, we crossed the bay to the city side below 
 the city, in the hope of finding a more sea- worthy boat. "We 
 were unable to find any other boat, however, and pulled on down 
 the bay as fast as we could. "While going down the bay that 
 evening, we ran along in the midst of a large school of huge fish 
 of some description, from which we apprehended danger every 
 instant. These monsters would swim along on all sides of us,, 
 with great fins sticking more than a foot out of the water, and 
 extended like a great fan. One of these fish could easily have 
 wrecked our boat with its huge body. We hoped to reach the 
 blockading fleet before daylight, but the night grew cloudy and 
 we were unable to tell what course we were running, as the bay 
 grew wider and wider as we went out. We decided the best thing 
 we could do was to pull for land, which we reached after midnight, 
 pretty well exhausted with our hard work at the paddles. We 
 tied up our boat and went to a thicket near by and slept soundly. 
 
 "When we awoke in the morning, we were cheered by the 
 beautiful surroundings, — all just as nature had fashioned them, 
 for the habitation or handiwork of man was nowhere to be seen. 
 Our couch had been a bed of prickly grass, that caused a sting- 
 ing, itching sensation all over our bodies. We had slept in a 
 wild orange grove. 
 
 " We made a hasty breakfast on our fish and potatoes left from 
 the night previous, and started for our boat ; but imagine our 
 surprise when we found it distant at least two hundred yards 
 from the water. Mark, who had lived in the old country, ex- 
 plained to me that this was the effect of the ocean tide, which had 
 gone out since we landed, and would not come in again until that 
 night. There was no safe course left us but to drag our boat to 
 the water, which we did, after tugging at it for about an hour. 
 
 " When we were again on the water we could see the spires 
 and high buildings of the city we had passed, but no sight of 
 ships could we see. We took our course as well as we could, and 
 x t 25 
 
290 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 pulled for the open sea. A little boat, which seemed to be a 
 fishing-smack under full sail, passed away to the leeward of us, 
 coming out from the city, and caused us no little concern, but 
 she passed off, and either did not notice us or care to inquire who 
 we were. We plied our paddles industriously until about the 
 middle of the afternoon, when we spied an island away in the 
 distance. We had been out of sight of land for some time and 
 the view of the island cheered us up a little, for we knew if a 
 rough sea came on that our little boat was liable to get swamped. 
 This island was much farther away than we had supposed. As 
 we neared it we were in some doubt as to whether we should pass 
 to the right or left of it, when our decision was made by the dis- 
 covery to the left and away in the distance of something that 
 had the appearance of dead trees. 
 
 " In the same direction, and right in our course, was some- 
 thing that appeared like a bar or gravel-bank. We supposed the 
 old trees stood on another low island or bar beyond. But as we 
 neared this bar, that which at first seemed to be dead trees began 
 to take the shape of ship-masts, and we imagined that we could 
 see something that looked like the dark outlines of black smoke- 
 stacks in the blue, hazy distance. This made us quite nervous, 
 and we pulled away at the paddles with renewed vigor and 
 strength. Before we were scarcely conscious of it we were close 
 upon the bar, and began to be puzzled how we should get by 
 or around it, for it was longer than it appeared to be when first 
 seen. Presently we discovered a narrow, shallow channel 
 through it, and we were not long in getting our boat through. 
 As we were going through, Mark gathered in a lot of rough, 
 muddy-looking lumps, which I supposed were boulders, and 
 soon called for my old broken-backed knife, after which I saw him 
 open one of the muddy chunks and eat something from it. Says 
 I, ' Mark 1 you starving Yank ! what in thunder are you at now ?' 
 'Taste this,' says he, as he opened another muddy chunk, and 
 I lapped up from the dirty shell the sweetest oyster I had ever 
 tasted. 
 
 " We were in the midst of a great oyster-bed, the like of which 
 I had never before seen. I had never, in fact, seen an oyster in 
 the shell before. Mark gathered up as many as he could as the 
 boat passed along, and when we reached the still water we made 
 quite a little feast on them as we paddled on. I think I never 
 tasted anything so delicious. We were still very hungry, and 
 the moist, rich, salty flavor of the oysters seemed to suit our weak, 
 famished stomachs to a nicety. 
 
 u But our little feast was soon cut short by the certain discov- 
 ery that the dead trees were nothing less than the masts of ves- 
 sels. We could now plainly see the yards, cross-trees, and great 
 smoke-stacks. We dropped the oysters in the bottom of the 
 boat, and, though quite exhausted, the sight of the vessels so re- 
 newed our strength that we made the little boat scud over the 
 still water at a lively rate. Soon we could see the long, gracefu" 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO THE GULF. 291 
 
 -streamers waving from the peaks of the masts, and the outlines 
 of the dark, sombre-looking hulls of the ships. 
 
 " We were now nearing the ships very fast, and were a little 
 anxious to see their colors, as we had become so suspicious of 
 everybody and everything that we half feared running into the 
 clutches of our enemies. But we were not long in suspense, for 
 suddenly a little breeze sprang up, and I shall never forget my 
 joy on seeing the old flag, the glorious old stars and stripes, as 
 they unfolded to the ocean breeze, and seemed to extend their 
 beneficent protection over us, after nearly eight months of terri- 
 ble bondage. We could see the field of blue, studded with its 
 golden stars, and the stripes of white and red ! Yes, it was our 
 flag, old E Pluribus Unum! W^e threw down our paddles in the 
 boat, and stood up and yelled and screamed and cried like a 
 couple of foolish boys lost in the woods. We could not restrain 
 ourselves. Mark wanted to jump overboard and swim to the 
 •ships, although we were yet, perhaps, nearly a mile away, — at 
 least too far to swim in his condition. After we recovered our 
 senses a little, we picked up the paddles and began rowing again, 
 directing our course towards the largest vessel. 
 
 " It seems now like a dream to me, — that joyful day, — the 
 most joyful, I was about to say, of my life. I believe there were 
 three vessels in sight. In steering for the largest one, although 
 it was the most distant, we had to pass some distance in front of 
 the bow of a smaller ship or boat. We were now getting so close 
 that we could plainly see the officers and men on the decks in 
 their neat, blue uniforms. We could see the port-holes in the 
 sides of the ships, and the black muzzles of the cannon project- 
 ing out. This gave us much assurance, and we said to ourselves, 
 4 Good-by, rebs ! We are out of your clutches at last I' 
 
 "We were rowing our insignificant-looking little boat right 
 along, just as though we intended to capture the biggest vessel in 
 the fleet, when a gruff" voice from the ship, whose bow we were 
 passing, commanded us to ' Come to, there !' At the same time 
 we saw a grim-looking old sea-dog, in nice uniform, leaning over 
 the rail, motioning us in with his hand. We turned the bow of 
 our little boat towards him, and, when we came within better 
 speaking distance, he interrogated us, in stentorian voice, about 
 as follows : 
 
 " ' Who in are ycu, and what are you paddling under my 
 
 guns in this manner for?' 
 
 " We were half-terrified by the old fellow's angry, stern man- 
 ner, and did not know but we had at last fallen into the hands 
 of a rebel cruiser under false colors. We did not know what to 
 say to this unexpected, angry interrogation. We paddled on 
 very slowly, while the sailors and officers began to gather in little 
 squads, and look at us with mingled curiosity and merriment. 
 
 " Presently, the officer hailed us again, with about the same 
 questions. I now stood up in our boat, and answered that we 
 were two men trying to get back to God's country, among 
 
292 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 friends. I was now quite uneasy, and suspicious of the situa- 
 tion, and kept my eyes on the officer, for I perceived he was the 
 commander. I shall never forget his stern but puzzled look as 
 we came up under the bow of his vessel. We had been so over- 
 joyed and excited that we had forgotten to pull the old moss, 
 which covered our nakedness and protected us from the sun, 
 from our backs, and we must have looked like scare-crows or 
 swamp-dragons. I cannot speak so well of my own appearance 
 then, but can see Mark Wood, just as he was on that joyful day, 
 and a more comical, forlorn, starved-looking being cannot well 
 be imagined. 
 
 " In our boat were a few cat-fish partly skinned, some oysters 
 in the shell, some ears of scorched corn, a lot of moss, and our 
 old boots, for our feet were yet sore, and we went bare-footed 
 when in the boat. 
 
 "After scrutinizing us in silence for some little time, as we 
 drifted up closer and closer, he again demanded of us some ac- 
 count of our strange conduct and appearance. I told him we 
 were enlisted Federal soldiers, and belonged to the command of 
 General 0. M. Mitchel, in Tennessee, to which he growled some- 
 thing about our being 'a longways from camp.' I then 
 
 explained to him briefly that we were fugitives, and the causes 
 that led to it ; that we were nearly famished with hunger, and 
 that, after skulking through mountains and river by night, we 
 had at last sought protection under the old flag and the guns of 
 his ship. 
 
 "I could see that his manner towards us had changed. He 
 plainly saw the indications of our distress. He said he had 
 heard of the raiding expedition we spoke of, and commanded us 
 to row up to the ladder and come up the ship's side. We did so, 
 and Wood went up the steps first. The poor fellow's agitation 
 and joy were so great, and he was so weak, that he could scarcely 
 raise his feet from step to step on the ladder or stairs. The com- 
 mander, seeing his weak, faltering condition, leaned over the 
 rail, as Wood came up, and, reaching out, took hold to assist 
 him, and, as he did so, the rotten bit of old moss, which covered 
 Mark's shoulder and back, all pulled off, and exposed his emaci- 
 ated, bony skeleton, which, in truth, was nothing but skin and 
 bones. The well-fed, sleek-looking sailors seemed to look on in 
 horror, but not more so than the generous-hearted commander, 
 who was moved almost to tears as he was reaching over to help 
 me as I came to the top of the step-ladder. They stared at .is in 
 silent wonderment, while the sailors looked down into our little 
 boat with comical curiosity." 
 
 We need not linger over the royal reception the 
 poor fugitives met, or their joy as they partook of the 
 hospitality of the commander, or even their still greater 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 293 
 
 joy when they returned to friends and comrades, who 
 had long mourned them as dead. From the bright ter- 
 mination of their sufferings we must turn, with deep 
 reluctance, to the story of the unfortunate six, still in 
 the power of the enemy. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 
 
 When we resolved to break jail it was our firm be- 
 lief that failure or recapture meant death. Yet no 
 sooner was the excitement over, and we quietly back 
 in prison, than hope began to whisper once more. Pos- 
 sibly there was some mistake in the report which led 
 to our desperate effort, or, if it was indeed true, the es- 
 cape of the larger part of the band might derange the 
 plan, or change the purpose of holding another court- 
 martial. It is sure that our anticipations of worse treat- 
 ment were not realized. I cannot account for the agree- 
 able surprise we experienced in this particular. Those 
 who are convinced that the mitigations of our lot were 
 caused by any representations made by the Union au- 
 thorities at Washington after our comrades had escaped 
 must be mistaken, because the change took place before 
 one of the fugitives had reached the Union lines. Wilson 
 and Wood at Washington, as well as the others of our 
 number who escaped, did make prompt representations 
 to our government, which may afterwards have been 
 of service to us. But these could scarcely have affected 
 us during our stay in Atlanta, as the time was not suf- 
 ficient. Possibly, it was thought by the Confederates 
 that the little remnant of the band, which had already 
 ^suffered so much, was not worth persecuting further. 
 
 25* 
 
294 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 However it is explained, the succeeding two months- 
 we remained in Atlanta, after the attempted escape, 
 was the least rigorous imprisonment endured by us in 
 the South. 
 
 Colonel Lee thought the jail no longer safe, and or- 
 dered us to be taken to the city barracks. These were 
 in the centre of Atlanta, looking out on one of its busi- 
 est public squares. Our room was also far better than 
 had been given to us before. It was large, well lighted, . 
 and provided with a great open fireplace, in which a 
 fire was kept continually burning. Our door was never 
 closed, but a sentinel stood in it, watching us, and the 
 gas was burned all the night. The Confederate soldiers 
 roomed all around us, and the whole large house — a 
 former hotel, I think — was surrounded by a line of 
 sentinels. We were in the second story, and our win- 
 dows were not barred. We could stand by them, and 
 watch the busy throng outside for hours at a time. 
 All our surroundings were now of a soldierly and civ- 
 ilized character. Our treatment was also more cour- 
 teous and considerate than formerly. 
 
 Probably much, if not all, of this change for the 
 better may be attributed to the character of the man in 
 whose charge we were now placed. Jack Wells, as he 
 was familiarly called, had been a lieutenant in the regu- 
 lar army of the United States before the war, and had 
 not forgotten the traditions of the service. He had no 
 feeling of resentment against us; on the contrary, 
 would come around to our room and talk by the hour, 
 telling us some great stories of his adventures and re- 
 ceiving as great in return. His worst fault was intem- 
 perance, being frequently half drunk and not seldom 
 going beyond that point. In these cases, and when in 
 a communicative mood, he would tell us that he did 
 not care a cent which side whipped in the war, — that 
 he only held his present position to avoid being con- 
 scripted, and because he preferred having a commission 
 as a volunteer to being compelled to fight as a private 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 295 
 
 conscript. But he was an excellent disciplinarian, and 
 we nowhere had less chance of escape than from under 
 his watchful eye and among his well-drilled soldiers. 
 He would allow no trifling with his authority, and was 
 ready to punish with fearful severity, as some of our 
 Tennessee comrades — who were citizens, not soldiers — 
 found. In fact, he seemed to care very little for those 
 who were not soldiers. 
 
 One of these men — Mr. Pierce, who had accompa- 
 nied us from Knoxville — one day threw his allowance 
 of provisions back again into the tray in which it was 
 being passed around, with a gesture of contempt, but 
 without a word being spoken. The supply was very 
 scanty and bad; but, as we could get no better, we 
 only thought that the old man was very foolish thus to 
 give up the little that he was offered. But this was 
 not the end. In a few minutes a file of guards entered, 
 took Pierce out, and tied his hands before his knees, 
 with a stick inserted across under the knees and over 
 the arms, in that most uncomfortable position known 
 to soldiers as " bucking." They left him in the cold 
 hall all night. He was able to eat his morning allow- 
 ance without difficulty ! 
 
 The next Tennessee sufferer was a Mr. Barker. One 
 of the guards often used to tease the prisoners by ask- 
 ing them how they liked being shut up in a prison, 
 " playing checkers with their noses on the windows," 
 etc. A complaint to the commander would probably 
 have caused a cessation of such taunts, which it was 
 foolish to notice in any way. But Barker answered, 
 that he need not feel so proud, for he would certainly 
 be driven before long to work like a slave in the cotton- 
 fields, to help pay the expenses of the war. The guard 
 reported the insult, and Barker was taken to the pun- 
 ishment-room and there suspended, head downwards, 
 till he fainted. This was repeated two or three times, 
 and he was then put into a dark cell, only four feet 
 square, "without food, for twenty-four hours. 
 
296 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 I was personally very fortunate here in receiving the 
 favor of the commander, which I used to the advantage 
 of my comrades as well as I was able. Having 
 nothing to read, for the kind minister had not visited 
 us since the attempted escape, and being determined 
 not to be idle, I began to practise short-hand regularly 
 each day. I had learned it before, and now wrote with 
 a pencil on any scraps of paper I could find. Wells 
 watched me while thus engaged, made a good deal of 
 sport of the " spider tracks/' but came in the next day 
 and asked if I would not do a little writing for him. 
 I was perfectly willing, provided it was not contrary to 
 my allegiance to the United States. He laughed at the 
 qualification, and showed me that it was the daily prison 
 reports that he wanted made out. I did not see that 
 this kind of work would do any harm, and undertook 
 it. His office adjoined the prison room, and he gave 
 orders that I was to be allowed to go from one room to 
 the other at pleasure, but no farther. In fact, when in 
 the office, there was always a special guard standing at 
 the door. A hundred schemes of escape flashed through 
 my brain, founded upon the additional privileges I now 
 had ; but I soon found that the guards were instructed 
 to watch me all the more closely on account of my 
 license. Wells himself laughed, and said that he would 
 ask no pledges of me, for it was his business to keep 
 us, and ours to get away — if we could ! The qualifica- 
 tion was well put. The only time the eye of a guard 
 was off me day or night was while in the office, and that 
 had only one door, by which the guard who brought 
 me to the office always stood till ready to take me back 
 to the common prison room. Yet I hoped something 
 might occur by which I could help my comrades and 
 myself. 
 
 One day I had the heartfelt pleasure of saving a 
 man's life. While I was in Wells' office writing a 
 requisition for provisions a person dressed in the uni- 
 form of a rebel officer was brought in under arrest. 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 297 
 
 He appeared to be very drunk, but remonstrated so 
 very hard against being put into the rooms which had 
 common prisoners that Wells consented to let him stay 
 in his office, to get sober enough to give an account of 
 himself. He had five hundred dollars in gold, which 
 had been taken from him, — a marvellous possession, 
 which Wells asked me to feel the weight of, — but as 
 the officer furiously demanded his money, it was given 
 back to him. As the charge against him had not yet 
 been made known, W T ells believed that it was only that 
 of drunkenness, — an offence with which he had great 
 sympathy. When the man got his money he sank 
 down on a lounge in a drunken stupor. Wells had 
 some business to transact, and soon went out. Ser- 
 geant White, the second in command, was with us, but 
 he, too, soon took his departure. I was busy writing, 
 but, hearing a step, I looked up and saw the stranger 
 approaching me. A startling change had taken place. 
 No trace of drunkenness was visible, but in place of it 
 a terrible expression of anxiety and determination. I 
 glanced about the desk to see that the heavy inkstand 
 was in easy reach, for I had never seen a more desper- 
 ate face. He leaned over my chair, and whispered, 
 u You are a prisoner ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " One they call engine thieves ?" 
 
 I nodded assent. 
 
 " I know you," said he ; " I know all about you. I 
 was here when your comrades were hung. Brave men 
 they were, and the cruel deed will yet be avenged. I 
 am not afraid to trust you. The commander here 
 don't know who I am yet, but he will soon learn, and 
 then I will have to die, for I am a spy from the Fed- 
 eral army." Then he added, with a most appealing 
 look, "Can't you help me to escape, before it is too 
 late?" 
 
 X was amazed, and for a moment doubtful ; but a 
 few hasty questions, put to test his knowledge of the 
 
298 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 Federal army and his present character, set my doubts 
 at rest. Then I asked, " What can I do for you ?" 
 
 He answered, " Can't you write me a pass and sign 
 the commander's name to it?" 
 
 I shook my head. If a pass written in such circum- 
 stances had been worth anything, I would probably 
 have written one for myself and comrades before that 
 time. Wells, who did not trust me at all, had guarded 
 that very point in his orders. 
 
 Then my new friend proposed that we together break 
 past the guard and run for it. I had no wish for such 
 a trial with only one to help. There was my guard at 
 the office-door ; two more guards in the hall ; a bar- 
 rack-room, with always a dozen or more soldiers in it,, 
 at the head of the stairway ; two guards at the front 
 door ; and a line of sentinels around the whole building* 
 
 But as I glanced around the room my eye rested on 
 a fine overcoat of Wells' lying on the foot of the office 
 bed, and an idea struck me. The prisoner was a short, 
 thick man, about the same size and build of Wells. 
 Said I, " Take that overcoat," pointing to it, " and 
 throw it around you, and just walk out as indepen- 
 dently as though you owned the entire establishment. 
 It is now nearly dark, and the chances are that you 
 will not be halted at all." 
 
 His countenance lighted at once. " I'll do it !" he 
 exclaimed, with suppressed eagerness. To fold him- 
 self in the cloak, nearly crush my hand as he said 
 "Thank you! Thank you!" and to open the door 
 and wafk out, was the work of but a moment. I lis- 
 tened as his firm step died away along the hall, but 
 there was no challenge, no sound that betokened any 
 discovery. The soldiers, seeing the familiar coat, mast 
 have supposed its rightful owner in it, and allowed it 
 to pass unhindered. A moment after Sergeant White 
 came in. I feared he would notice the prisoner's ab- 
 sence, but he did not. I got him engaged in story- 
 telling as soon as possible, to postpone any inquiries. 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 299 
 
 For some five minutes I succeeded very well, wheB 
 Wells entered, cast an uneasy glance about the room, 
 and at once exclaimed, " Sergeant, where is that officer ? 
 Did you put him in another room ?" 
 
 The sergeant answered that he had been out, and 
 that when he returned he saw nothing of the man. 
 
 It was Wells' turn to be startled now. He sprang 
 over to me and demanded sternly, " Pittenger, where's 
 that officer?" 
 
 I was not in the least terrified. In fact, I was greatly 
 amused, and for the moment forgetting the purpose 
 formed two months before, of always avoiding untruth 
 as well as all other evil things. I answered, " What 
 officer?" 
 
 " That officer I put in here." 
 
 " Oh ! that drunken fellow?" 
 
 " Yes ; where is he ?" 
 
 " The last I saw of him, he picked up his coat and 
 said he was going to supper." 
 
 " Going to supper, was he ? Ho ! I see ! Sergeant, 
 run to the guards and tell them if they let him out 
 I'll have every one of them hung up by the heels." 
 
 Wells was in a towering passion at once. The alarm 
 was sounded, and for a few minutes a terrible commo- 
 tion prevailed, but nothing was seen of the drunken 
 fugitive, whose importance began to be known. Soon 
 Wells returned, and demanded in a peremptory tone, 
 " Pittenger, why did not you give the alarm when he. 
 started ?'" 
 
 I answered carelessly, " Oh ! I did not know that my 
 business in the South was to guard prisoners." 
 
 " Of course not," he returned ; " but I wish you had 
 called me this time." 
 
 Then after a moment's silence, he continued, " You 
 said he took his coat. Had he a coat?" 
 
 " I suppose so, sir," I returned, " or he would no* 
 have taken it." 
 
 " He brought none in. Where did he get it ?" 
 
300 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " Off the foot of that bed." 
 
 Wells sprang to his feet as quickly as if he had been 
 galvanized, kicked the chair on which he had been 
 sitting clear across the room, and exclaimed, " My over- 
 coat! sure as ! Worth eighty dollars! The 
 
 villain !" 
 
 No intelligence of this spy reached Atlanta while 
 we remained there. Wells told me that there was no 
 doubt he had gotten entirely away. 
 
 While in this place, I had the opportunity of learn- 
 ing that there were many lovers of the old Union in 
 Atlanta. These visited us, and, although always in the 
 presence of the guards, managed to express their kind- 
 ness in very tangible ways. They told us much of 
 their hopes, and of the strength they numbered. A 
 certain JJr. Scott was very liberal in his contributions 
 to our wants. I had afterwards the pleasure of repay- 
 ing his kindness, when he had been forced to flee for 
 his life, and arrived destitute in the North. The 
 money we thus obtained, together with some small 
 presents Captain Wells bestowed, when pleased with 
 the writing 1 did for him, gave us the means of living 
 almost luxuriously. One dainty I remember with es- 
 pecial delight. Sweet potatoes were very abundant and 
 cheap, and we were allowed to buy as many as our 
 means permitted, and roast them in the ashes of the 
 wood fire which always glowed on our hearth. The 
 great mealy potatoes, raked out and dusted off and 
 eaten hot, constituted a feast good enough for a king ! 
 I have never since found any sweet potatoes equal to 
 those we devoured by the bushel in the old Atlanta 
 barracks. This abundant living made some amends 
 for the six months of famine that preceded it, and 
 gave strength, which was still to be sorely tested before 
 the day of deliverance. The memory of those beautiful 
 autumnal days, when we could look from our unbarred 
 windows upon the sky and the street, when we could 
 gather around the fire and under the gas-jet in the even- 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 301 
 
 ing, when hunger no longer pinched, and when health, 
 which I had long missed, came back, when some con- 
 sideration was shown for us even by our guards, and 
 when visitors often whispered words or gave signs of 
 sympathy for our cause as well as for ourselves, is not 
 altogether unpleasant. True, we were still prisoners, 
 and our fate as uncertain as ever ; but it was easy to 
 persuade ourselves that these more pleasant surround- 
 ings were the promise of still greater good. 
 
 Our religious exercises were here continued as per- 
 sistently and publicly as in the jail. There were serious 
 difficulties to overcome. Some of our own party seemed 
 to consider that our release from the dark cells of a 
 criminal prison removed the necessity of morning and 
 evening prayer. We were not alone, and the soldiers 
 who were " off duty" came to our door when it was 
 first reported that " the Yankees were having prayer- 
 meeting," and greatly annoyed us by interruptions and 
 by a continual series of comments upon the exercises. 
 We endured this for a time, but at last I appealed to 
 Wells. He gave us protection from the guard, saying 
 that he could not stand praying himself, but if we 
 could get any good out of it we were welcome, and 
 should not be disturbed. The opposition of the pris- 
 oners soon gave way also, and our morning and evening 
 devotions were seasons of great interest. Even pris- 
 oners from other rooms came to their open doors that 
 they might hear the reading and prayers, and join with 
 us in song. Faith, hope, and courage were sustained 
 by this recognition of God more than by all other 
 agencies combined. 
 
 An effort was here made to get recruits out of the 
 prison for the Confederate army. Especially were the 
 regular soldiers who were in our company importuned. 
 But our band were not asked. I presume they thought 
 we could not be trusted. Had the offer now been made 
 E would not have accepted, though I would have done 
 go without hesitation at anv time preceding the death 
 
 26 
 
302 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 of our friends. Now my religious principles would 
 have prevented me from taking the oath of allegiance 
 to the Confederacy for the mere purpose of breaking it 
 by desertion. But I was glad the temptation was not 
 offered to any of our band. 
 
 At length there came to us most startling news, — a 
 uourt-martial was again convened ! This was the first 
 since the ever-memorable one at Ivnoxville, and we 
 awaited its action with breathless interest. A week of 
 sickening suspense passed and no summons came for 
 us. Had we been ordered out for trial we had resolved 
 to try again to escape, even if the effort only resulted 
 in throwing us on the bayonets of the surrounding 
 guards. But when news came that the court had ad- 
 journed, we were as much rejoiced as we had been 
 fearful before. It did look as if they intended to per- 
 secute the feeble remnant of our party no further ; and 
 passing from the extreme of despondency to that of 
 hope, we began once more to indulge the blissful expec- 
 tations of exchange. But our time had not yet come. 
 
 The weeks rolled on. Few things worthy of note 
 occurred. The same monotony which makes prison- 
 life so dreary robs it of interest when recorded. We 
 would rise in the morning from our hard bed — the 
 floor — and wash ourselves by pouring water on each 
 other's hands ; then eat our scanty rations when brought. 
 Then the effort was to kill time until dinner came, which 
 was about four o'clock. It was not abundant, but if 
 we had a bundle of roasted sweet potatoes to add from 
 our own stores, as often happened, it was not so bad. 
 Then we did anything to keep busy until the gas was 
 lit. This was kept burning all night, not from any 
 favor to us, but only that the guards might see that we 
 were not arranging any plan for escaping. 
 
 This was the most cheerful hour of the day, for 
 under the soft inspiration of the gaslight conversation 
 flowed freely, and all the incidents of our past lives 
 were rehearsed. Wells or some other rebel officer 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 303 
 
 would often enter and talk with us. Arguments and 
 discussion on all manner of subjects were introduced, 
 and often continued until the midnight bells were 
 striking in the town. Then would come our evening 
 prayers as we lay down to dream often of home and 
 friends and freedom. In the morning the same round 
 recommenced. Thus days glided into weeks, and 
 weeks passed into months. The golden hues of autumn 
 deepened into the sombre colors of early winter, and 
 still we were in Atlanta. It almost seemed as if we 
 would never be anywhere else. 
 
 At length there came a day of wonderful joy. A 
 number of officers, including the provost-marshal, came 
 to the barracks, and, inquiring out our room, had us 
 all drawn up in line. One of them stepped forth and 
 addressed us, saying that he had good news to commu- 
 nicate, which they had been hoping to receive for some 
 time past. He continued, "You have all been ex- 
 changed, and all that now remains is to send you out 
 of our territory by way of Richmond and City Point." 
 
 Each of them then came along our line and shook 
 hands with us, — the Tennesseeans and regular soldiers 
 included, twenty in all, — offering congratulations on the 
 happy terminations of our trials, and wishing us much 
 joy on our arrival at home. 
 
 Our feelings were indescribable, but strangely min- 
 gled. There was an overwhelming rush of emotions 
 which forbade utterance, — rapture exceedingly great, 
 and yet mingled with a deep touch of sorrow that our 
 seven dead — murdered — comrades were not with us to 
 share the joy of this hour. And the eight also who 
 had managed to get out of the clutches of the rebels by 
 their own daring, — we were uneasy about them. Only 
 a day or two before we had seen in an Atlanta paper, 
 obtained, as usual, through the negroes, who were wait- 
 ers here as well as at the jail, an article clipped from the 
 Cincinnati Commercial, telling of the arrival of Porter 
 and Wollam at Corinth, as narrated above. Of the 
 
304 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 others we had received no reliable information, but sup- 
 posed that some of them at least had perished. The 
 provost-marshal told us that three had been shot and 
 left in the woods, but we did not fully credit him. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, the prospect of liberty was 
 enough to make our hearts overflow with gratitude to 
 God. I was so agitated that when Wells asked me to 
 write a requisition for provisions for the trip to Rich- 
 mond I could not do it, and had to transfer the work 
 to more steady hands. It was nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing when we received the glad news, and we were to 
 start for home — via Richmond — at seven in the even- 
 ing. As the time for departure drew near, we again 
 lit the gas, and made up a fire, the ruddy blaze of 
 which was an emblem of cheerfulness, to take a fare- 
 well view of the room in which we had spent so many 
 not altogether unhappy hours. Often afterwards did 
 we remember that bright hour of expectation. 
 
 We were forbidden to take any blankets with us r 
 being told that we would soon be where blankets were 
 plenty. The pieces of carpet we had managed to se- 
 cure as blankets were therefore left behind, with the 
 exception of two small strips, which were afterwards 
 very serviceable. A great surprise met us when we 
 were ordered to start. We were not tied ! This was 
 the first journey on which we had been sent so care- 
 lessly, and it afforded the strongest presumption that 
 the exchange was a reality. 
 
 All was now in readiness for our departure, and we 
 took a last look at rebel Atlanta. The guards fell in 
 on each side of us, and we wended our way along the 
 dark streets. Wells, even drunker than usual, accom- 
 panied us to the cars, where he hiccoughed an affection- 
 ate farewell. I carried away one good article of dress, 
 — a nice felt hat. The day before Wells clapped it on 
 my head, telling me that I looked better in it than in my 
 own shabby cap. I supposed that it was only a freak, 
 and that he would reclaim it again, but he did not. It 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 305 
 
 was much out of suit with my other garments, but I 
 wore it until I had a chance to sell it for a great price 
 — in Confederate money ! 
 
 Sergeant White commanded our escort. He had 
 always been kind to us, and, like his superior, did not 
 care which side came out best in the war, so long as he 
 was not hurt. The guard was only ten in number, 
 while we were twenty and unbound, — a ridiculous fall- 
 ing off from former precautions. 
 
 We were crowded into box-cars, and soon began to 
 suffer severely with cold, for the night air was most 
 piercing. It was the 3d of December, and we had 
 only summer clothing, which was, in addition, very 
 ragged. About three o'clock in the morning we left 
 the train at Dalton to wait for another train to Cleve- 
 land, as we were not to go through Chattanooga. This 
 was our last passage over the railroad we had so much 
 wished to destroy nine months before. 
 
 The stars were sparkling. in light and frosty bril- 
 liancy when we stopped, and the keen and icy wind 
 cut almost through us. We nearly perished before the 
 train arrived, and enabled us to continue our journey. 
 
 In the morning we found that our three days' 
 rations, which were to last to Richmond, were barely 
 sufficient for breakfast. We ate everything, and trusted 
 to buying something with the remaining money our 
 Atlanta Union friends had given us. When that failed 
 we had our old resource, — the endurance of hunger. 
 
 During this day's ride on the cars we discussed the 
 question as to whether it would not be best to capture 
 the guard and escape. The task did not seem hard. 
 The guards were very careless, and we could at any 
 time have had as many guns as they had. They sat 
 on the same seats with us, and were often asleep. Sev- 
 eral times on the trip we wakened the sentinels by the 
 doors as the corporal approached, thus saving them 
 from punishment. Once Sergeant White laughingly 
 told us that we could escape if we tried, but that he 
 m 26* 
 
306 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE, 
 
 thought it would be more pleasaut for us to ride around 
 by way of Richmond rather than to walk over the moun- 
 tains on our own responsibility. This very security 
 lulled our suspicions, and made us shrink from under- 
 taking an escape which would have involved severe 
 hardship in mountain travel, if nothing worse. Be- 
 sides, we no longer had the same homogeneous party as 
 in Atlanta. 
 
 In the afternoon we passed Knoxville, and were 
 glad to keep right on. Then came the town of Green- 
 ville, the home of our former companion, the heroic 
 Captain Fry. About nightfall we reached the Vir- 
 ginia line, and ran steadily on. It was a beautiful 
 night ; the moon shone over the pale, frosty hills with 
 a mellow radiance which made the w T hole landscape en- 
 chanting. The shifting scenes of mountain, stream, or 
 ghostly wood seemed to me like a panorama of human 
 life. The morning dawned upon us, still steaming 
 slowly through the romantic valleys of Virginia. 
 
 The next day was wet and dreary. Our car leaked, 
 our fire went out, and we were thoroughly uncomfort- 
 able. By evening we had reached the mountain city 
 of Lynchburg, and discovered that we had missed the 
 railroad connection. This led to a delay of twenty-four 
 hours, which we greatly regretted, being very anxious 
 to get speedily through to our own lines. We had all 
 our plans laid for the happy day of our arrival at 
 Washington. 
 
 We were quartered in a large bare room belonging 
 to the barracks, where some of the worst criminals of 
 the Confederacy were also confined. There was a great 
 stove in the centre of the room, but, as no fire was put 
 in it, we had to endure another night of dampness and 
 cold. The only consolation was found in the thought 
 that we would not have many more such nights to 
 spend before reaching home. I paced the floor till 
 nearly morning, and saw a good many amusing inci- 
 dents. Many of the rebels were drunk and disposed 
 
FROM ATLANTA TO RICHMOND. 307 
 
 to mischief. One man diverted himself by walking 
 around the room on the forms of those who were try- 
 ing to sleep. In his round he stepped on Bensinger, — 
 one of our party. The infliction was patiently endured 
 the first time, but as the sot came again, Bensinger was 
 on the lookout, and, springing to his feet, gave him a 
 blow that stretched him out on the floor. Some of his 
 companions rushed forward to resent the just punish- 
 ment, but Bensinger's friends also were prepared, and 
 there was a good prospect of a general fray. But, as 
 soon as the ruffians understood the position, they re- 
 tired to their own side of the room. 
 
 In the raw and chill morning I found here some of 
 the most virulent enemies of the Union I had yet seen. 
 A prisoner loudly declared that no quarter ought to be 
 given in the war, — said that he had advocated raising 
 the black flag from the first, asserting that " if it had 
 been raised the war would have been over long since." 
 
 " No doubt of it," I replied. " In that case the 
 whole Southern race would have been exterminated 
 long before this." 
 
 That mode of ending the war had not entered his 
 mind, and he did not appear pleased with the sugges- 
 tion. 
 
 A little before dark the next evening we again 
 started, and now had good, comfortable cars, — the best 
 we had enjoyed on the route. But we only ran a short 
 distance to the junction, where we had to leave them 
 and wait the arrival of another train. Here was the best 
 chance of escape we had yet found. The night was 
 pitchy dark, and so cold that the guards built a great fire 
 on the border of a strip of woodland, and allowed us to 
 help in gathering withered sticks to replenish it. They 
 scarcely appeared to notice us, and all that was neces- 
 sary for escape was to give the word and run for it. 
 Nothing held us but the absolute confidence of a speedy 
 exchange, and, depending upon that, the golden oppor- 
 tunity was neglected. Of course, the perils and hard- 
 
308 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ships of wandering through the Virginia mountains in 
 the depth of winter would have been severe, but the- 
 start would have been mere child's play. Oh ! how 
 bitterly we afterwards regretted that we had not darted 
 into the depths of the forest and sought to effect our 
 own exchange ! 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 
 
 In a few hours the train for which we waited ar- 
 rived, and, passing onward without further noticeable 
 events, long before morning we were in Richmond. 
 There was the same intense and piercing cold which 
 had been the main element in our suffering during this 
 journey, but the sky was clear, and the rebel capital 
 was distinctly seen in the sparkling moonlight. Every- 
 thing looked grim and silent through the frosty air, 
 and our teeth chattered fast and loud as we walked up 
 a street of the sleeping city. 
 
 But the sergeant in command of our party did not 
 know what to do with us. We hoped that some ar- 
 rangements had been made for forwarding us directly 
 to City Point, the place of exchange, so that we might 
 that very day behold once more the stars and stripes. 
 Yet we knew it was more probable that some detention 
 would occur. The sergeant left us where we were 
 while he started in search of the provost-marshal's 
 office for instructions. We endeavored to shelter our- 
 selves as best we could from the unbearable cold,, which 
 really threatened to prove fatal. Two pieces of ragged 
 carpet were all the protection we had, in addition to our 
 well-worn summer clothing, and we spread these over 
 our heads as we, huddled together in a solid mass in 
 the angle of a brick wall. It was astonishing what a. 
 
LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 3Q9 
 
 relief this afforded, — especially to those who were in 
 the inside of the pack, where I happened to be. Here 
 we shivered till the sergeant returned. He had found 
 the headquarters of the prison department and con- 
 ducted us thither. 
 
 Several streets were threaded in the moonlight, and 
 when the office was reached, to add to our discomfort, 
 it was destitute of fire. We stood in the empty room, 
 looking at the grim portraits of rebel generals for an 
 hour or two, until the marshal entered. He did not 
 deign to speak to us, but broke open a sealed letter 
 Sergeant White handed him and read aloud that ten 
 disloyal Tennesseeans, four prisoners of war, and six 
 engine thieves were hereby forwarded to Richmond by 
 order of General Beauregard. The old name applied 
 to us was no small shock. We had hoped that the 
 title of " engine thieves" had been left behind, and that 
 from henceforth we would be only called " prisoners of 
 war." But we still trusted to be soon beyond their 
 lines, and it would make no real difference what name 
 they exchanged us under. The marshal then gave his 
 orders, and we were conducted onward. 
 
 By this time it was daylight, December 7, 1862. 
 Richmond looked still more cheerless in the cold morn- 
 ing than in the moonlight. 
 
 A long march through a number of streets brought 
 us to the banks of the James River, where we halted 
 in front of a most desolate-looking but very large brick 
 building, situated near the. water, and surrounded by a 
 formidable circle of guards. This we supposed to be 
 a prison, and soon learned that we were right. It was 
 the famous Libby. 
 
 We entered, were conducted up a flight of steps, and 
 reached a vast, open room, where we saw, almost for 
 the first time since our capture, the old, familiar United 
 States uniform, and were soon in the midst of over a 
 hundred United States soldiers. 
 
 Our greeting at first was not very friendly, as we 
 
310 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 still wore the ragged clothing that had served us all" 1 
 summer ; but as soon as our true character and history 
 were known, a most cordial welcome was extended. 
 There was only one small stove in the cold, empty 
 room, around which part of the inmates were huddled. 
 But with the characteristic courtesy and chivalry of the 
 American soldier they cleared a place beside it for us. 
 When I got warm I had leisure to look around. 
 
 The prospect was not very cheerful. Above, the 
 floor had been taken out, leaving only the rafters be- 
 tween us and the roof. The window-sashes were all 
 removed, and the cold wind whistled in from the river 
 far more sharply than was consistent with comfort. 
 Only a very scanty amount of fuel was allowed per 
 day, and when that was exhausted they had to endure 
 the freezing as best they could. The room was too 
 large and open to be warmed throughout, and only a 
 ;ew could gather around the stove. The food was 
 oeither better nor worse than in other Southern prisons. 
 Probably among all the prisoners, past and present, we 
 were the only ones who were glad to be there. We 
 regarded it as the sure pledge that our foes had not de- 
 rived us in their promise of an exchange, for thesf* 
 nen, with whom we found ourselves, were actually go- 
 ing northward on the next truce-boat, which was daily 
 expected. What mattered the cold wind or the bare 
 floor with such a hope ? We felt that we were no 
 longer held as criminals, but were now in the common 
 prison, with other soldiers, sure that the day of final 
 release could not be far off. What wonder if our joy 
 was too deep for words, and we could only turn it over 
 in our minds, and tremble lest it should prove too de- 
 lightful to be realized ? The vision of freedom was so 
 warm and vivid that all hardships were forgotten. 
 
 It w 7 as also very agreeable to talk with our comrades 
 who had recently been captured, and get news of the 
 progress of the war from a Federal stand-point. All 
 the intelligence we had obtained for a long period came 
 
LIB BY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 3H 
 
 colored by Southern prejudices. In such communion 
 with friends who were still confident of success in the 
 great conflict the time passed rapidly. 
 
 But in the midst of our conversation, probably two 
 hours after our entrance, an officer came to the door 
 and called for the men who had just been admitted. 
 Every one in the room but ourselves had taken the 
 customary oath of parole, not to serve against the Con- 
 federacy until regularly exchanged ; and supposing that 
 omission in our case was about to be supplied, we 
 gladly responded. The guard led us down to the en- 
 trance hall and called over our names. The four pris- 
 oners of war who had come from Atlanta with us were 
 sent up-stairs again, while we were turned into an im- 
 mense, but dark and low, room on the left of the stair- 
 way and the door locked behind us. 
 
 This was an awful moment. The full meaning of 
 this separation burst upon us. We had been taken 
 away from those who were to be exchanged and put in 
 a room reserved for those regarded as criminals. We 
 had been bitterly deceived, and our hopes at once fell 
 from the highest heaven to which they had soared. A 
 cold sense of misery and despair came over us. No 
 wonder we looked at each other with pale, troubled 
 countenances in the dim light, and asked questions 
 none were prepared to solve. 
 
 But for one moment only were we thus crushed ; the 
 next we eagerly sought an avenue for hope. Perhaps 
 they did not choose to recognize us as soldiers, and 
 merely wished to exchange us as civilians, — a matter 
 of perfect indifference to us, provided we were ex- 
 changed at all. We looked around to see what foun- 
 dation we could build on for this pleasant conjecture. 
 
 Our present apartment contained even more prison- 
 ers than that up-stairs. They were not Northern sol- 
 diers, but were from all parts of the South. Some of 
 them had been in prison ever since the war broke out, 
 while a few had been arrested for supposed anti-slavery 
 
312 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 sentiments even before that event, and had lived in 
 loathsome dungeons ever since. There had been a 
 reign of terror in the Southern States preceding the 
 war, as well as after the opening of the contest, which 
 differed from the similar terror in the French revolu- 
 tion mainly in being less theatrical, and in striking 
 humbler victims. A few Northern soldiers were here 
 who had been put in for attempting to escape or for 
 other breaches of prison discipline. Every man in the 
 room had some kind of " a charge" against him. These 
 facts were not calculated to strengthen hopes of ex- 
 change, or even weaken fears of further punishment. 
 
 In the mean time breakfast was brought in. It 
 consisted of a small quantity of thin soup and a very 
 scanty allowance of bread. To our delight the latter 
 was made of wheat flour instead of corn-meal ; and all 
 the time we remained in Richmond we received good 
 bread, though it was very deficient in quantity. 
 
 While we were talking with our new room-mates an 
 officer again entered, and inquired for the men who had 
 last come in. We responded promptly, for hope was 
 again whispering in our hearts that probably there had 
 been some mistake, which would now be rectified, and 
 we be taken up-stairs again. But no such good for- 
 tune was in store, — rather the reverse. We were taken 
 out of doors, where a guard waited to remove us to an- 
 other prison. Again our hearts sank. 
 
 We crossed the street and marched westward, halt- 
 ing at a desolate-looking building, a few hundred yards 
 from Libby, which we afterwards learned was " Cas- 
 tle Thunder," the far-famed Bastile of the South. 
 Through a guarded door we entered a reception-room 
 and waited for some time. In this interval a fierce- 
 looking, black-whiskered, bustling individual, who I 
 afterwards learned was Chillis, the prison commissary, 
 came by and, looking at us, exclaimed, — 
 
 " Bridge-burners, are they ? They ought to hang, 
 every man of them ; so ought everybody who does any- 
 
LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 313 
 
 thing against the Confederacy." The latter proposi- 
 tion, with the change of one word, precisely suited my 
 own feeling then. 
 
 Soon we were ordered up-stairs. Up we went, pass- 
 ing by a room filled with a howling and yelling mul- 
 titude, who made such an outrageous racket that I was 
 compelled to put my hands to my ears. A score of 
 voices brawled with all the power of their lungs, " Fresh 
 fish ! Fresh fish !" The same exclamations greeted 
 every new arrival. 
 
 Here we were searched, as usual, to see if we had 
 anything contraband, or rather, anything worth taking 
 from us. I had obtained a large knife in Atlanta, 
 which I managed to slip up my sleeve, and by care- 
 fully turning my arm when they felt for concealed 
 weapons, succeeded in keeping it out of the way. 
 
 The examination over, I supposed they would put 
 us in the bedlam we had just passed. They did no 
 better, for we were put into a stall beside the large 
 room. I use the word " stall" advisedly, for no other 
 is so appropriate. It was one of a range partitioned 
 off from the room in which were the noisy miscreants, 
 and from each other, by boards nailed to the upright 
 timbers, w r ith cracks wide enough to let the wind circu- 
 late freely everywhere. Most of the windows of the 
 large room were out, which greatly increased the cold. 
 Our stall was only eight or nine feet wide, and perhaps 
 sixteen in length. It was perfectly bare of furniture, 
 — not having even a bench or any means of making a 
 fire. It was in the third story, and had one redeeming 
 quality, — it commanded a view of the street, but there 
 was a guard below, who had orders to shoot at any 
 head that might be protruded from the window. 
 
 In this cheerless place our party of six, with nine 
 Tennesseeans, — fifteen in all, — were confined during the 
 months of December and January. The first day our 
 spirits sank lower than ever before. All our bright 
 hopes were dashed to the ground, and there seemed 
 o 27 
 
314 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 every reason to believe that we were doomed to this 
 dreary abode for the whole duration of the war, if, in- 
 deed, we escaped sharing with our murdered friends 
 the horrors of a scaffold. It was too disheartening 
 for philosophy, and that day was one of the blackest 
 gloom. We seldom spoke, and when we did, it was 
 to denounce our own folly in suffering ourselves to be 
 deluded to Richmond by falsehood. I cannot say at 
 this time whether the false declaration concerning the 
 exchange was intended to deceive or was only the re- 
 sult of some misunderstanding; but then we had no 
 doubt it was deliberate treachery. Not being able to 
 spare enough guards to make us secure, we felt that 
 they had deceived us to this terrible prison, which we 
 might have avoided by seizing one of the many oppor- 
 tunities for escape our journey afforded. But it was no 
 use lamenting ; all we could do was to register a vow 
 never to be so deceived again. One resource remained. 
 It was my turn to lead our devotions, which we had 
 continued faithfully. If I ever prayed with fervor it 
 was in this hour of disappointment and dread. I tried 
 to roll our cares upon the Lord, and at least partly 
 succeeded, for I rose from my knees convinced that we 
 had one Friend who had not forsaken us, and who had 
 often made His children rejoice in worse situations than 
 ours. The next morning we awoke quite cheerful and 
 nerved for any fate that might yet be in store. 
 
 The routine of prison-life here differed but little 
 from that in Atlanta, though our condition was far less 
 comfortable. In the morning we were taken down to 
 the court (the building was square and built with an 
 open space in the centre) to wash, and were immedi- 
 ately taken back to our stall and locked up. The prin 
 cipal difference arose from our lack of fire. No othei 
 physical suffering I endured in the whole imprisonment 
 was more intolerable than this perpetual freezing. We 
 had no opportunity for those pleasant fireside chats 
 which had done so much to make our days endurable 
 
LIB BY AND CASTLE THUNDER. SI 5 
 
 in the Atlanta barracks. In their stead, as the dark- 
 ness and coldness of night drew on, we were compelled 
 to pace the floor, trying to keep warm ; and, when sleep 
 became a necessity, we would all pile down in a huddle, 
 as pigs sometimes do, and spread over us the thin pro- 
 tection of our two bits of carpet. Thus we would lie 
 until the cold could be endured no longer, then rise and 
 resume our walk. When the weather became warmer 
 than usual we would sleep much, to make up for wake- 
 fulness during the colder nights. 
 
 We never omitted our public prayers. For a while 
 the crowd outside in the large room, which was com- 
 posed of the very scum of Southern society, such as 
 deserters from the army, gamblers, and cut-throats from 
 the large cities, gave us all the annoyance in their 
 power, by shouting all kinds of derisive epithets through 
 the cracks in the board partition while we were kneel- 
 ing; but, finding their efforts ineffectual, they finally 
 gave over, and left us to pursue our own way in peace. 
 We found, afterwards, when, for a short time, we were 
 put in with them, that they respected us all the more 
 for our perseverance. 
 
 A few days after our arrival we noticed a great stir 
 at Libby Prison, which was in plain view. A truce- 
 boat had arrived at the place of exchange. Soon a 
 body of prisoners were marched up the street by us, 
 and our four Atlanta companions with them. As they 
 passed by they waved their hands to us in farewell and 
 continued their journey to freedom. They were not 
 disappointed, and, as I have since learned, they were 
 soon with their friends at home. The representations 
 made at Atlanta were true as regarded these four men ; 
 the falsehood was in making us believe that we stood 
 on the same footing. We felt glad for their sakes ; but 
 the parting, to us, was very painful, and we turned 
 away from the window with something of the gloom 
 that had darkened the first day of our abode in this 
 prison*. 
 
^\Q CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 One great privilege we bad here, — a delightful oasis 
 in the dead sameness that settled over our days. This 
 was found in reading the daily newspapers. We were 
 not now forbidden their perusal, and some one in the 
 large room had always money enough to buy a paper 
 and charity enough to lend it. As soon as we received 
 it, all the party would gather around while it was read 
 aloud. Each item of importance was eagerly discussed. 
 The news was often exciting, as the Union commander, 
 Burnside, had just made an advance, and we breathed 
 hearty prayers that he would be successful in reaching 
 Richmond. Probablv our enemies would, in that case, 
 
 J 7 7 
 
 try to remove us farther South ; but we had firmly 
 resolved to escape in such a contingency or die in the 
 attempt. We would not allow ourselves again to be 
 moved from one prison to another without risking 
 everything for freedom. 
 
 But soon came the sad news of Burnside's bloody 
 repulse at Fredericksburg, — sad to us, but causing the 
 greatest rejoicing among our enemies, who felt that 
 they had escaped a great danger. If Union defeats 
 diffused gloom throughout the whole of the loyal States, 
 there was yet no place where they were so regretfully 
 and bitterly felt as in Southern prisons. 
 
 Here I sold the hat I had obtained from Commander 
 Wells in Atlanta, and made an effort to invest the 
 money in books, for which I was more hungry than for 
 bread. But the volumes I wanted were not to be found 
 in Richmond. Chillis, the cross commissary who wished 
 us hung on our first arrival, but who w T as, nevertheless, 
 the kindest official in the prison, made the effort to ob- 
 tain them ; but when he failed, we took instead some 
 very small cakes, at ten cents each. These were a great 
 addition to our rations for a day or two. 
 
 The desire to escape once more became intense. Be- 
 ing in the third story, we could only get out by passing 
 at each door successive relays of guards, all of whom 
 had reserves ready to co-operate with them in case of 
 
LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 317 
 
 alarm. Our room was nearest the jailer's office, and on 
 the other side there ran a row of rooms filled with all 
 kinds of prisoners, — some held as spies and others as 
 murderers. 
 
 The nearest of these rooms to our own was occupied 
 by Federal soldiers accused of various oifences. Cap- 
 tain Webster was one of these. He had on one occa- 
 sion been sent to capture a notorious guerrilla captain 
 named Simpson, who was then hiding within the Union 
 lines. When he was found, Webster summoned him 
 to surrender. Instead of doing so he fired his pistol 
 and started to run, but Webster also fired and mortally 
 wounded him. 
 
 When Webster was afterwards captured by the Con- 
 federates, he was charged with the murder of Simpson, 
 and confined in the room next our own. He was finally 
 hanged, but in the official report the oifence was changed, 
 in a manner not uncommon with Confederate authori- 
 ties, for the more plausible one of violating his parole. 
 
 At this time Webster was very anxious for an at- 
 tempt at escape. A plan was soon arranged, and the 
 evening before Christmas selected as the time. The 
 citizen prisoners in the room below were more favor- 
 ably situated than ourselves for beginning the enter- 
 prise. We had opened secret communications with 
 them, and the ramifications of the plot reached every 
 room in the prison. The signal agreed upon was the- 
 ory of " fire !" When this alarm — always startling, 
 but doubly so in a crow T ded prison — was given, we were 
 to rush upon the guards and overpower them. They 
 only numbered about thirty, while we had over a hun- 
 dred and fifty men in the plot. After capturing the 
 guard, we still had the very serious task of getting out 
 of the guarded and fortified city. It is not probable 
 that a very great number could have succeeded in doing 
 this. 
 
 That Christmas-eve was not much like Christmas at 
 
 home. We made everything ready, and anxiously 
 
 97* 
 
318 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 waited for the thrilling alarm of " fire !" which we 
 would have echoed at the top of our voices, and then 
 burst off the door of our stall and flung ourselves on 
 the guard. I had no doubt that we could thus break 
 open the strongest prison in the Confederacy ; but as to 
 any large number escaping to the Union lines I was 
 less confident. The hours rolled on and midnight 
 came, — the hour fixed for the attack. But we waited 
 in vain. No signal was given. The inmate^ in the 
 room below had failed in courage at the critical mo- 
 ment and resolved to postpone the attempt. 
 
 Not yet discouraged, we determined to make another 
 trial the very next night. Captain Webster was ap- 
 pointed leader, as we felt sure that he would not falter. 
 The locks were taken off all the side rooms except 
 ours, which was so near the station of the guard that 
 it could not be removed without great danger of dis- 
 covery. We cared but little for this. A long board 
 which supported our water-bucket afforded a convenient 
 battering-ram, with which we felt sure of being able 
 to deal with our door. 
 
 Some of the inmates did not wish to run the fearful 
 hazard, but were very kind to those of us who did, 
 supplying us with serviceable shoes and taking our 
 worn-out ones in return. 
 
 Again we waited for the signal. Four ot us held 
 the long board, and felt sure that one blow would dash 
 our door into the middle of the room. 
 
 The other small rooms were soon vacated, the move- 
 ment being concealed from the observation of the guards 
 by the inmates of the large room, into which all the 
 others entered, crowding up around the doors. 
 
 For an instant all was silent. We lifted our hearts 
 in mental prayer to God that he would be with us and 
 preserve us through the coming strife, and if consistent 
 with his high will, permit us to regain our liberty. 
 
 What can cause the delay? Minute after minute 
 passes, and the dead silence is broken only by the 
 
LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 319 
 
 throbbing of our own hearts. We have counted the 
 cost, and are ready for the strife which shall lead us to 
 grapple, with naked arms, the shining bayonets of the 
 guards. Some will certainly fall, but we trust that 
 others will regain the unutterable blessing of liberty. 
 
 But now we see our friends creeping back to their 
 rooms I We grind our teeth with rage and chagrin, 
 but soon hear the explanation, which makes us believe 
 that the Lord is indeed watching over us. 
 
 Just as the leader was ready to give the signal, a 
 friend pressed to his side and informed him that we 
 were betrayed, and that the enemy were on the watch 
 for us. From a window in the far corner of the room 
 a force of at least eighty men could be seen drawn up 
 before the prison-door. The story continued that or- 
 ders had been given to shoot down every one who at- 
 tempted to escape, while another detachment was to 
 close in behind and make an indiscriminate massacre. 
 Had we carried out our plan, the guard would have 
 yielded before our rush until we had been fully 
 drawn into the trap, when they hoped to make such a 
 slaughter as would be a perpetual warning to prison- 
 breakers. 
 
 When I first heard this account I thought it the in- 
 vention of some weak-nerved individual who wished 
 to avoid the danger of our scheme. But it was per- 
 fectly true. The next day the newspapers of Rich- 
 mond contained a full expose of the whole affair, and 
 Captain Alexander, the tyrant who commanded the 
 prison, threatened to have every one engaged in it tied 
 up and whipped. But he finally changed his mind. 
 A nominal prisoner, who was really a spy in the ser- 
 vice of the authorities, had contrived to get into the 
 plot, and had reported it to his employers. This was 
 the last attempt at prison-breaking in which I was con- 
 cerned. 
 
 In Richmond there was a pretence of allowing pris- 
 oners to correspond with their friends in the North, — 
 
320 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 of course, subject to the inspection of the prison officials. 
 From Libby Prison some letters did go safely. We 
 also tried writing, making our expressions very guarded, 
 but, so far as I have ever heard, none of our corre- 
 spondence was forwarded beyond the lines. I was 
 providentially afforded a better opportunity. Some of 
 the prisoners captured at the battle of Murfreesborough 
 were brought to Richmond for exchange, and were 
 kept overnight in a room in the basement of Castle 
 Thunder. When in the court as usual in the morn- 
 ing, I asked a good-natured Irishman of their number 
 if he would carry a letter and mail it for me after get- 
 ting to loyal territory. He cheerfully consented, and 
 I pencilled a note to my father on the fly-leaf of a 
 book and, watching an opportunity when unobserved, 
 gave it to him. He concealed it until out of rebel 
 power, and duly committed it to the mail. The sensa- 
 tion may be imagined which it produced among my 
 own friends and those of other members of the party, 
 as nothing had been heard from us since the October 
 escape, and we had long been given over as dead. 
 Though the note was very hastily written, I copy it 
 here without change, as showing the feeling experienced 
 at that time. Something of the hopefulness and light- 
 ness of the tone resulted from the wish to cheer those 
 addressed. 
 
 " Kichmond, Va., January 6, 1863. 
 
 "Dear Father, — I take this opportunity of writing by a pa- 
 roled prisoner to let you know that I am well and doing as well 
 as could be expected. I have seen some rather hard times, but 
 the worst is past. Our lives are now safe, but we will be kept 
 during the war, unless something lucky turns up for us. There 
 are six of our original railroad party here yet. Seven were exe- 
 cuted in June, and eight escaped in October. 
 
 " I stand the imprisonment pretty well. The worst of it is to 
 hear of our men [this refers to the Union army] getting whipped 
 so often. I hear all the news here : read three or four papers a 
 day. I even know that Bingham was beat in the last election, 
 for which I am very sorry. 
 
 " The price of everything here is awful. It costs thirty cents 
 to send a letter. This will account for my not writing to all my 
 
LIBBF AND CASTLE THUNDER. 321 
 
 friends ! Give my sincere love to them, and tell them to write 
 to me. 
 
 " You may write by leaving the letter unsealed, putting in 
 nothing that will offend the Secesh, and directing to Castle 
 Thunder, Va. I want to know' the private news, — how many 
 of my friends have fallen. Also tell me who has been drafted 
 in our neighborhood, who married, and who like to be. Also, 
 if you have a gold dollar at hand, slip it into the letter, — not 
 more, as it might tempt the Secesh to hook it. I have tried to 
 send word through to you several times, but there is now a bet- 
 ter chance of communicating since we came from Atlanta to 
 Richmond. 
 
 " No doubt you would all like to see me again, but let us have 
 patience. Many a better man than I am has suffered more, and 
 many parents are mourning for their children without the hope 
 of seeing them again. So keep your courage up, and do not be 
 uneasy about me Write as soon as you can, and tell all mv 
 friends to do the same. 
 
 " Ever yours, 
 
 "William Pittenger. 
 
 " To Thomas Pittenger, 
 
 "New Somerset, Jefferson Co., Ohio.*' 
 
 The belief expressed in the above letter of imprison- 
 ment during the war was thought by the writer to be 
 most probable. No word was spoken either of ex- 
 change or of court-martial. The prices referred to 
 were in Confederate money, which was now greatly 
 depreciated. The little we had brought from Atlanta 
 rapidly melted away, procuring us very little addition 
 to our meagre fare. We still hoped for great Union 
 victories and a speedy termination of the war. But at 
 the opening of the year 1863 the prospect was dark 
 indeed. 
 
 About the 1st of February the range of side rooms 
 in which we were confined was wanted for 1 ospital 
 purposes. The prison hospital had been Iocs .ted in 
 the garret above, but disease increased to such an ex- 
 tent that its accommodations were no longer sufficient. 
 These chill and comfortless rooms had but little adap- 
 tation to their new purpose, and hastened the release 
 of many a poor unfortunate by the mercy of death. Dis- 
 ease was now making fearful havoc. The hardships 
 
322 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 of prison-life and the starvation diet prepared the wa^ 
 for every contagion. Smallpox broke out, and pre- 
 vailed to such an extent that the whole town was 
 alarmed. The prisoners were vaccinated by the whole- 
 sale, but this necessary precaution caused great addi- 
 tional suffering. Men died in every room, and the 
 visiting physician came each morning to remove to the 
 hospitals those who showed marks of the dreaded pes- 
 tilence. It would scarcely be believed that some pris- 
 oners actually counterfeited smallpox in order to be 
 sent to the smallpox hospital, where they would have 
 a better opportunity for escape. But escaping had be- 
 come a regular mania, and all possible means were 
 employed to effect it. 
 
 No one of our party of six took the pestilence, 
 though two suffered very severely from the vaccine 
 virus. But the prevalence of disease did us a good 
 service in securing our removal from the narrow stall 
 to the comparative freedom of the room outside. 
 
 This was a great change, and did seem like freedom 
 by contrast. From this time the isolation of our prison- 
 life was at an end. I have spoken of the " room," but 
 the term is scarcely accurate. The partitions had been 
 taken out or never inserted in this upper floor, and the 
 prisoners could go from one end of the building to the 
 other, but with guards stationed at every door and 
 watching every window outside. In a far corner there 
 was a stove, — the first fire we had felt since leaving 
 Libby two months before. It did not suffice to warm 
 half the people around it, and these were very quarrel- 
 some, but it was a great luxury to be occasionally warm. 
 
 The amusements of the hundreds who had been 
 gathered into this receptacle of humanity were very 
 striking, if not elegant. When a dense crowd had 
 gathered around the stove, some person outside — 
 usually one of a large group of very mischievous Irish- 
 men — would cry, " Char-rge, me boys !" and a solid 
 column of perhaps fifty men would rush against the 
 
LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 323 
 
 group around the stove, knocking men in all directions, 
 endangering limbs, and raising a perfect storm of pro- 
 fanity. Fights were very frequent, and it only needed 
 the addition of intoxicating liquor to make the place a 
 perfect pandemonium. As it was, the interference of 
 the guard was often required to preserve order. Our 
 party, however, always stood together, and were thus 
 able to protect themselves. 
 
 The evenings were a compensation for the turmoil 
 and quarrelling of the day. After all who pos- 
 sessed blankets had rolled themselves up and laid 
 down to rest on the floor, some of the worst rowdies, 
 who had been annoying and persecuting their fellow- 
 prisoners all day, would gather around the stove and 
 appear in a new character, — that of story-tellers. Old 
 Irish legends, and some of the finest fairy-tales to 
 which I have ever listened, were brought forth, and 
 the greater part of the night was often passed in such 
 discourse. But the approach of day put an end to the 
 romantic disposition of these rude bards and left them 
 ill ruffians as before. 
 
 We soon wearied of this perpetual ferment and ex- 
 citement, and learning that there was one room in the 
 prison occupied principally by Union men, petitioned 
 to be placed with them. To our surprise this request 
 was granted, and we were taken down to the ground 
 floor, and placed in a large, dingy room on the level 
 of the street. The windows were not onlv secured by 
 crossing bars, but additionally darkened by fine woven 
 wire. The refuse tobacco-stems — the building was an 
 old tobacco manufactory — had been thrown into this 
 room, and were now gathered into a great heap in one 
 corner, occupying more than a fourth part of the entire 
 apartment. This filthy stuif — for such it was, having 
 been trodden underfoot for years — was not without its 
 uses for the tobacco-lovers of the party. 
 
 But this dungeon had ample compensations for its 
 darkness and dinginess. It contained a stove, and was 
 
324 CAPTURIAG A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 kept quite warm. Thus the terrible suffering from 
 cold was now ended. There was also good society 
 here, — nearly a hundred Union men from different 
 parts of the South, — all intensely patriotic, and many 
 of them possessing great intelligence. The rude, wild 
 element which dominated in the third floor was in 
 complete subordination on the first. 
 
 It would be easy to fill a volume with stories told 
 us by the loyal citizens confined in this room. One 
 or two may serve as specimens. I became very in- 
 timate with a Scotchman named Miller, from Texas. 
 He told me of the beginning of the reign of terror,, 
 which prepared the way for secession. The rumor, 
 in Miller's neighborhood, was first spread of an in- 
 tended slave insurrection. Weapons, and in some cases 
 poison, were secreted, to be afterwards found at the 
 right time. Some slaves were next whipped until, 
 nnder the torture, they would confess to the intended 
 insurrection, and implicate the most prominent oppo- 
 nents of secession. This was enough to drive the 
 populace to madness. The fear of servile insurrections 
 has always aroused the worst passions of slaveholding 
 countries. Slaves and white Unionists were now hung 
 up to the same trees, and the work went on until all 
 who opposed the withdrawal of the State from the old 
 Union were treated as criminals. It is not strange that 
 slavery thus furnished the means as well as the occasion 
 of rebellion. 
 
 Miller, being an outspoken opponent of secession, was 
 seized, and sent eastward, accused of treason against the 
 Confederacy. Twice he made his escape, and when re- 
 captured told, each time, a different story. At Rich- 
 mond, when brought up for examination, he merely 
 said, " I told you all about my case before." The ex- 
 aming officer, who was very busy and a little in liquor, 
 took him at his word and ordered him back to prison. 
 At length he was included with many others in a special 
 exchange. 
 
L1BBY AND CASTLE THUNDER. 325 
 
 A few Union soldiers, besides ourselves, were in this 
 room. There was a young and adventurous scout from 
 the Potomac army, Charlie Marsh by name, who had 
 been sent a short distance inside the rebel lines to 
 burn an important bridge. While on his way, with a 
 gray coat — the rebel color — thrown over his own uni- 
 form, he managed to get some important information 
 regarding the enemy, which he committed to writing. 
 In this perilous position he was captured, and the 
 papers, which he was not able to destroy, determined 
 his character as a spy. A drum-head court-martial 
 convicted him, and he was sent with a strong guard to 
 Richmond for execution. While on the way the ser- 
 geant in charge got an opportunity to drink, and soon 
 became very careless. Marsh could not escape ; but, 
 watching his chance, slipped from the sergeant's pocket 
 the package containing the report of the trial and sen- 
 tence, and dropped them, unobserved, into a ditch by 
 the wayside. 
 
 , When he arrived in Richmond, the sergeant could 
 give the prison authorities no information further than 
 that his prisoner was a Yankee he had been told to 
 bring to them. The drunkard w T as reprimanded, and 
 the authorities sent back to the army for the missing 
 information. Pending its arrival, Marsh was put into 
 our room, instead of being confined separately and se- 
 curely, as would have been the case if his sentence had 
 been known. When the evidence against him arrived, 
 the commanding officer entered the room with a guard 
 and called his name. This was Charlie's last chance 
 for life, and shrewdly was it improved ! A man had 
 died in the prison the night before, and the body had 
 not yet been removed. Charlie promptly responded, 
 "Oh, that fellow is dead?" pointing to the corpse. 
 
 " Died, has he? the rascal ! We'd 'a hung him this 
 week and saved him the trouble if he had only held 
 on," growled the officer. 
 
 No prisoner felt called upon to expose the deception, 
 
 28 
 
326 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 and the officer departed and reported accordingly. 
 Marsh continued to answer whenever the dead man's 
 name was called, and was finally exchanged in his 
 place. I once met him since the close of the war. He 
 was then in congenial employment as a government 
 detective. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 
 
 In February the attempt was made to persuade the 
 Union men of our prison room to enlist in the rebel 
 army. Over twenty recruits w T ere obtained. They 
 were loval in heart to the old government, but so worn 
 down and dispirited by suffering that they could resist 
 no longer. The refusal of the remainder to take the 
 same step seemed to exasperate the prison officials, and 
 new hardships were devised for us. Captain Alexan- 
 der, the tyrant who had charge of the prison, issued an 
 order for taking out a working-party to perform menial 
 service each day. At first volunteers were called for, 
 and the desire to be in the open air was so great that 
 they were readily obtained, notwithstanding the condi- 
 tions of the work were far from being pleasant. As 
 soon as no more volunteers offered, a list was prepared, 
 and a certain number of the names called daily for 
 service. This was putting the matter in another light. 
 One of the first called was a frank, brave Tennesseean 
 named McCoy. He answered boldly, " I'm not going." 
 
 " What's the matter now ?" demanded the officer who 
 was calling the list. 
 
 " I didn't come here to work, and if you can't board 
 me without, you may send me home," replied the fear- 
 less man. 
 
 " Well ! well ! You'll be attended to," growled : 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 327 
 
 the officer, and proceeded with the roll. Four others 
 on the list likewise refused. In a short time a guard 
 entered the room and seized them. We feared that one 
 of the terrible floggings, which w r ere only too common 
 in the case of prison insubordination, was going to take 
 place. But another mode of punishment was devised. 
 The four were taken before Captain Alexander, who 
 ordered them to "the cell." This was a windowless 
 place, beside the open court, only about four feet wide 
 by six or seven in length. It had no floor but the 
 damp earth, and was dark at mid-day. They were 
 informed that they should remain here until they con- 
 sented to work. 
 
 We found another alternative for them. There was 
 a piece of file and a scrap of stove-pipe in our room, 
 which we secreted, and, buying a piece of candle from 
 the commissary, found an opportunity, when taken to 
 wash in the prison-court, of slipping the articles into 
 the cell. Thus provided, our friends began to dig their 
 way out under the wall. All day and night they 
 worked, but did not get through. We furnished an- 
 other candle and they worked on. Towards morning 
 of the second night they broke upward through the 
 crust of the ground outside of the wall. The foremost 
 wormed his way out and glided off. He was never 
 heard of afterwards, and, I presume, reached the Union 
 army. The next man was just under the wall, when 
 the barking of a dog that happened to be prowling 
 around drew the attention of the guard that way, and 
 the hole was closed. This incident prevented the con- 
 finement of any others in the cell. 
 
 Yet the attempt to secure workers from the prison 
 was not given up. I happened to be on the next list 
 prepared. To work with a guard carrying a musket 
 to enforce obedience did not seem to me a part of my 
 business as a United States soldier. Carefully counting 
 the cost, I determined to go any length in resistance. 
 
 On our refusal, we were ordered into the jail-yard, 
 
328 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 It was a very cold, windy day in February, with 
 abundant rain. We were nearly naked, having only 
 the remnant of the rags that had already outserved 
 their time. The bottoms were out of my shoes, and 
 the water stood in the yard several inches deep. The 
 yard itself was only a vacant corner in the building 
 inclosed by high brick walls, on the top of which 
 guards walked. The cold, wet wind swept down with 
 biting sharpness, and almost robbed us of sensation. 
 We paced the narrow bounds, through the mud and 
 water, until too weary to walk any more, and then re- 
 signed ourselves to our misery. If this exposure had 
 come earlier, when we were accustomed to the endur- 
 ance of cold, it might have been less serious. But for 
 several weeks we had been in a close, warm room, and 
 the contrast was almost unbearable. 
 
 Here we remained from early in the morning until 
 nearly dark in the evening. They told us we would 
 have to stay there till we agreed to work or froze to 
 death ! The first we had resolved never to do. The 
 latter seemed only too probable. I do not think any 
 of us could have survived the night. We resolved as 
 soon as it was fairly dark to scale the wall and seek 
 our own deliverance, feeling that it could not be worse 
 to die by the bullet than by exposure. 
 
 But we had help from an unexpected source. The 
 old commissary, Chillis, had come out of his room, 
 which was near by, several times during the day to 
 observe us, and each time went away muttering and 
 grumbling. We thought he enjoyed our suffering, but 
 were greatly mistaken. In the evening he went to 
 Captain Alexander and remonstrated with him in the 
 strongest terms. Said he, — 
 
 " If you want to kill the men, do it at once ! The 
 rascals deserve it. Hanging is the best way. But 
 don't leave them out there to die by inches, for it will 
 disgrace us all over the world." 
 
 His remonstrance was heeded, and we were remanded 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 329 
 
 back to our room, which, with its warm fire, never 
 seemed more agreeable. We soon sank into a pleasant 
 stupor, from which all awoke very ill. One poor fel- 
 low died within a few hours, and several more after a 
 short interval. I was the only one of our railroad 
 party who had been thus exposed. That day of freez- 
 ing does not seem a worse hardship than many endured 
 previously, but coming when already enfeebled, it was 
 far more injurious. Pneumonia followed, and when I 
 grew better a distressing cough continued, which has 
 never left me. Ever since I have been a confirmed 
 invalid. But the attempt to make us work was relin- 
 quished. 
 
 One day we were summoned into line, and the names 
 of our railroad party, with a few others, called over. 
 One of the prisoners who had not been called, asked 
 the reason of the omission. The officer replied, — 
 
 " We can't tell, for this list came from Yankee- 
 land." 
 
 This speech set wild conjectures afloat. Why should 
 a list be sent from the North ? Was it for the purpose 
 of exchange? Had the Federal government made 
 some arrangement at last which applied especially to 
 us, and not to the mass of Union men in the prison ? 
 We could not tell, but it was pleasant to believe that 
 we were not utterlv forgotten. 
 
 It was soon discovered that a special exchange of 
 political prisoners — prisoners whose offences were of a 
 civil and not a military character — was in contempla- 
 tion. Soldiers were being exchanged frequently from 
 the Libby on the other side of the way, but it had 
 seemed as if we were altogether forsaken. Now the 
 rumor was current that a large number on each side 
 who were held for various offences were to be massed 
 into one general exchange, and the including of our 
 names in a list sent from the loved loyal States was 
 sufficient fuel to rekindle the almost extinct fire of 
 
 hope. 
 
 28* 
 
330 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 But the delay was long, and we grew very weary of 
 waiting. Truce-boat after truce- boat went off, and 
 week after week slid away, leaving us still in our dark 
 and irksome prison. So completely did this damp our 
 hopes that if any one referred to exchange he was 
 laughed into silence. 
 
 One day, however, we received a most welcome token 
 of governmental remembrance. An officer bustled 
 into the prison and asked for the name of every one 
 there who claimed United States protection. There 
 was a general rush towards him, for, although we did 
 not know how our government could protect us while 
 in rebel hands, w r e were resolved not to lose anything 
 for want of claiming it. It then transpired that the 
 authorities at Washington, in order to relieve the suf- 
 ferings of the Richmond prisoners, had offered to fur- 
 nish a supply of clothing for them. The offer was 
 accepted, and some of the clothing reached its destina- 
 tion, — not nearly all, as I judge from comparing the 
 accounts given on the opposite sides of the line. My 
 own portion was a pair of boots, which were sorely 
 needed. We did not obtain a complete supply, but 
 what we did get was very grateful, as a token that we 
 were not forgotten, but that a great nation still cared 
 for us. 
 
 I have said but little for some time past of our re- 
 ligious exercises. It must not be inferred that we had 
 lost the zeal enkindled during the dark hours in At- 
 lanta. Up-stairs we continued to pray, sing, and re- 
 peat Bible lessons morning and evening. When we 
 first came into the room below, where we were strangers,, 
 and where the whole current of opinion seemed utterly 
 irreligious, I did feel as if it would be impossible for 
 us in the common room to worship publicly as before. 
 At the arrival of the usual hour I was sorely per- 
 plexed, and almost persuaded to wait a day or two for 
 better acquaintance with our new room-mates. But 
 the matter was settled providentially for us. Mr.. 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERT V. 33 J 
 
 Pierce, who had accompanied us all the way from 
 Knoxville, and who was very profane in speech, had 
 never shown any interest in our prayers beyond re- 
 maining silent when we were thus employed. But now 
 he stepped on a box, and calling and stamping until he 
 had the attention of everybody in the room, he said, — 
 
 " I have a matter to propose for our general interest. 
 We have some preachers with us who are accustomed 
 to sing and pray and read the Bible every morning and 
 evening. Now, I am wicked enough myself, but I 
 like to 1 ave something good going on ; so I propose 
 that we invite them to go ahead as they have done in 
 other prisons. All that favor the motion say ' aye !' ' 
 
 The response was most hearty. In a prison a propo- 
 sition for anything which will break the monotony for 
 even a little time is sure of favor. No one voted in 
 the negative, and Pierce, turning to me, said, " Go 
 ahead. " 
 
 There were no preachers in our party, but, under 
 such circumstances, we gladly embraced the providen- 
 tial opportunity. The majority of the prisoners gath- 
 ered around in respectful silence, and seemed greatly 
 pleased to hear, in that gloomy place, the voice of 
 prayer and sacred song. Even the guards drew near 
 the open door, and stood in reverent attention. But a 
 small company of the more reckless of the prisoners 
 regarded the whole matter in the light of a burlesque. 
 One I especially noticed, who seemed to be their leader. 
 He was quite young, had a confident bearing, and ut- 
 tered great oaths on the smallest occasion. He watched 
 us without making any disturbance while we read and 
 sang, but, when we knelt for prayer, he knelt too, and 
 became very noisy in his mock devotions, responding 
 " amen" with more than Methodistic fervor and at the 
 most inopportune places. This we endured patiently 
 for that evening, but I resolved to win him over, feel- 
 ing sure that we would thus do good and secure our- 
 selves from interruption. On the next day I managed 
 
332 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 to get into conversation with him, told him the story 
 of our adventures, which always commanded attention, 
 and asked the reason of his imprisonment. He gave 
 the story, and I afterwards asked after his friends in 
 his far-off Canadian home. He told me that he had 
 no near relatives except a sister, and his blue eyes filled 
 with tears as he spoke of his longing to see her once 
 more. There were no interruptions to our evening 
 service ; and I learned that my friend had taken occa- 
 sion to say that those Ohioans were good fellows, and 
 that anybody who disturbed them would have to reckon 
 with him. A number of other religious persons made 
 themselves known when the way was thus open, though 
 each one had supposed himself alone before. We formed 
 quite a church when all assembled, though there was a 
 great mixture of creeds, a Roman Catholic being one 
 of the most devoted of the number. 
 
 A day now approached that had been longed for 
 ever since we first tasted the bitter cup of captivity, — a 
 day which yet shines golden and glorious in the light 
 of memory, — a day which I never recall without a 
 mental ejaculation of thanksgiving to Almighty God. 
 To have assured its coming I would at any time during 
 the preceding eleven months have unshrinkingly sacri- 
 ficed my right hand ! 
 
 On the evening of the 17th of March, 1863, when 
 we were sitting around the stove, discussing quietly 
 but not indifferently the siege of Vicksburg, an officer 
 stepped within the door and shouted the strange order, 
 *" All who want to go to the United States come to the 
 office !" 
 
 No more plans were laid for capturing Vicksburg 
 that night ! We thought we were in the United States 
 all the while, but had no objection to be still more so, 
 and at once fell into line, and walked out, between two 
 files of soldiers, to the office. It seemed like a dream. 
 For a moment a delicious hope thrilled through my 
 veins, — a vision of happiness and home, dazzling as a 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 33$ 
 
 flash of summer lightning, — but it instantly faded 
 before the remembrance of the manner in which we 
 had been deceived in Atlanta. I did not doubt that an* 
 exchange had been arranged for some of the inmates 
 of our room, but feared that the good fortune would 
 not reach so far as our proscribed band. The oath of 
 parole, binding each man not to serve against the Con- 
 federacy until regularly exchanged, was being signed 
 as fast as the names could be written and the oath ad- 
 ministered. To end the suspense, I pressed forward,, 
 gave my name, and held my breath, while fully ex- 
 pecting to hear " The engine thieves can't go," — but no 
 objection was made. I wrote my name, and watched 
 each of my five comrades do the same, with o-rowino- 
 hope, as still no objection was made. Then came the 
 remembrance that our names were the first on the list, 
 read a few days before, which, as we had been told,, 
 came from " Yankee-land ," — and I suspected, what I 
 afterwards learned to be the fact, — that our government, 
 in arranging this exchange, had specially stipulated that 
 we should be included. Although a sickening fear 
 would still intrude itself now and then, there was really 
 no reason to doubt that all the preliminaries of our 
 exchange were actually arranged. 
 
 When all the prisoners had signed the papers we 
 were ordered to return to our room, and be ready to 
 start for the North at four o'clock next morning. We 
 could have been ready in four seconds! but we really 
 needed the quiet night hours to realize the full magni- 
 tude of our deliverance. The wild excitement of that 
 evening can never be fully described. The majority 
 of paroled men acted as if bereft of reason. The joy- 
 ousness of some found vent in vociferous shouts, — in 
 dancing and bounding over the floor, — in embracing 
 each other, and in pledging kind remembrances. Some 
 seemed stupefied by their good fortune, others sat down 
 and wept in silence, and still others laughed for minutes 
 together. But in the room there were a few not per- 
 
334 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 t 
 
 mitted to go, and my heart bled for them. I remem- 
 bered the hour when we had been left by our comrades 
 •on first arriving in Richmond, and now these friends 
 sat cheerless and alone, seeming more wretched than 
 ever amid the general joy. 
 
 But there was one expression of joy which it would 
 have been the basest ingratitude for us to omit. It was 
 near midnight before we became calm enough to offer 
 up our usual evening devotions. But when all were 
 wearied out by the very excess of joy, when the quiet- 
 ness which ever follows overwhelming emotion had set- 
 tled upon us, we knelt in prayer, — a prayer of deep, 
 strong, fervent thankfulness. We implored that we 
 might not be deceived in our vivid hopes and dashed 
 back from our anticipated paradise. Yet, if such should 
 be God's mysterious will, pud we should see these hopes 
 fade, as others had faded before them, we asked for 
 strength to beur the trial. Then, with solemn trust, 
 we tried to commit the whole matter to the wisdom and 
 the mercy of God, and lay down to sleep, if we could, 
 and to await the event. 
 
 Few eyes closed during the entire night. Fancy was 
 too busy peopling her fairy landscapes, — picturing the 
 groups that awaited us, beyond that boundary which 
 for nearly a year seemed to us as impassable as the 
 river of death. But even as we muse we find that 
 hope is not the only painter at work. What unbidden 
 fears spring up to darken the prospect and stain the 
 brightness of our joy ! How many of those dear friends 
 w 7 e were hoping to meet may now be no more ! For a 
 year not a whisper from them has reached us, — no let- 
 ter or message from any friend, and we tremble as we 
 think of the ravages of time and of battle. These and 
 a hundred other thoughts whirled through our brains 
 during that ever-memorable night. It seemed but a 
 few moments after lying down until we heard the voice 
 of an officer, who stood by the open door, and gave the 
 thrilling order to — prepare for our journey ! 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 335 
 
 Hurriedly we thronged to our feet. It was yet long 
 before daylight, but the guard were in readiness, and 
 they did not need to wait long for us. The visions of 
 the night were swept away, but in their stead was the 
 blessed reality. It was true ! Freedom once more ! 
 Our terrible captivity ended ! Oh joy ! joy ! — wild 
 and delirious joy ! 
 
 There was a hurrying around in the darkness, illu- 
 mined by the flashing of torch-lights, — a discordant 
 calling of names, — a careful inspection of each man to 
 see that none went except those who had been chosen ; 
 then, forming two lines in the court-yard, with bound- 
 ing hearts we passed outward through the dreaded 
 portals of Castle Thunder, — the same portals we had 
 passed inward more than three months before ! — passed 
 out into the cool but free night air, and stood in the dark 
 and silent street. 
 
 Beside us rose the tall, square, and ugly outline of 
 the prison we had left. Not far aw r ay on the left was 
 the shadowy form of the twin prison, — the Libby, — tit 
 emblems, in their frowning blackness, of that system 
 of oppression which had shed rivers of blood in a vain 
 war, and was soon to pass away forever. But we could 
 not pause to moralize even upon such a theme. As 
 soon as all were out of the gate, and the column of 
 prisoners duly formed, with guards on either hand, we 
 marched onward through the muddy streets for many 
 squares. There were with us a number of sick, who 
 were too weak to walk unassisted, and yet unwilling 
 to be left behind. As no conveyances were provided 
 for them, we placed each of them between two friends, 
 on whose shoulders they leaned, and they were thus 
 able to totter the weary distance. A few had to be 
 carried altogether by those who were themselves far 
 from strong, but hope, and the exultation of liberty, 
 made everything possible. After we were seated in 
 the cars, which were waiting at the depot, and had 
 begun to glance around with happy faces in the dim 
 
336 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 morning light, some Richmond papers were procured. 
 Looking over them we found the very interesting news 
 that " a large number of engine thieves, bridge-burners, 
 murderers, robbers, and traitors will leave this morning 
 for the United States. The Confederacy may well 
 congratulate itself on this good riddance." The item 
 was handed from one to another, and we recognized 
 the names applied with quiet joy. Our congratula- 
 tions were not less fervid than theirs, but we could 
 not help thinking that the riddance might have been 
 made long before ! 
 
 With the rising sun we glided out of Richmond, 
 and, passing fortifications and rifle-pits, soon reached 
 Petersburg. Then, with but short detention and no 
 notable incidents, we continued on to City Point, on 
 the James River, — the place of exchange. It was not 
 far from noon when we came within sight of the most 
 glorious and fascinating object on the American conti- 
 nent ! — the " Stars and Stripes," which we had not seen 
 before for eleven months, floating in proud beauty over 
 the truce-boat " State of Maine." It was a glorious 
 vision. Cheer after cheer arose from the cars. The 
 guard ordered the noise stopped, but the command was 
 unheeded, and the officers did not try to enforce it. 
 
 The memories of that hour are indistinct from their 
 very brightness. I seem to see again the great boat with 
 its beautiful flag, the line of Federal guards with their 
 bright blue uniforms, the gray-clad company for whom 
 we were to be exchanged, and who did not seem nearly 
 so glad as ourselves, and my own tattered and starved 
 companions, some three hundred in number. I hear 
 once more the seemingly interminable reading of names, 
 the checking of lists, the wrangling over trifles, and at 
 last the order — which needed no repetition — to go on 
 board. There was still a sense of trembling and appre- 
 hension until the boat actually pushed off* and we were 
 on our way down the James. 
 
 Then our delight was boundless. We had awak- 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 337 
 
 ened from a hideous nightmare-dream to find that all 
 its shapes of horror and grinning fiends had passed 
 away and left us in the sunlight once more. Our hearts 
 kept time with the glad threshing of our wheels on the 
 water, and sang within us, knowing that each ponder- 
 ous stroke was placing a greater distance between us 
 and our dreaded foes. 
 
 The hearty, cheerful welcome we met on board was 
 no small element in our pleasure. We were hungry — 
 no wonder after a year's fasting — and we were fed, — the 
 only difficulty being to avoid hurtful excess. With a 
 full supply of provisions and a large tin cup of coffee — I 
 am not sure that so good a cup of coffee has been made 
 since — I sat down and ate slowly, as if I could never 
 have enough. Then I wandered all over the boat, from 
 the upper deck and the cabin down to the hold, in the 
 mere wantonness of liberty. To go about with no 
 guard watching me was as strange as it was delightful. 
 The act of going up to, and passing unchecked through 
 a door, was a great pleasure ! I saw little of the 
 country through which we passed, for the mind was 
 too busy. No emotion on earth has the same sweep 
 and intensity as the throbbing sensations that rush 
 through the bosom of the liberated captive ! 
 
 I have no recollection whatever of the lower James, 
 of Fortress Monroe, of the Chesapeake. In all my 
 memoranda no word occurs of these things. Whether 
 the hours were spent in sleep or waking, whether the 
 monotony of happiness obliterated memory, or nature., 
 weakened by disease and exhausted by too great a mul- 
 tiplicity of sensations, refused to receive new impressions, 
 I know not ; but not until we were near Washington 
 can I again recall passing events. Then we thronged 
 to the vessel's side, and bent loving eyes upon the 
 snowy front of our beautiful Capitol. It seemed a far 
 more grand and fitting emblem of our country's power 
 now than when I had first looked upon it, an inex- 
 perienced boy, in the far-away opening of the war, 
 p w 29 
 
338 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 though only two years had elapsed since that time. In 
 those two years the whole country had learned many 
 lessons, and to me they were an age ! 
 
 Here a brief controversy arose with the commander 
 of the truce-boat. He had orders to forward all the 
 exchanged soldiers to the parole camp at Annapolis, and 
 wished to send our party with them. I demurred, 
 feeling that it was right for us to report at Washington, 
 at military headquarters. General Mitchel, who senf 
 us forth upon our expedition, was dead. Our leader, 
 Andrews, was no more. How many of our officers had 
 fallen in the sanguinary battles of the West we knew 
 not; possibly we had been reported as dead and our 
 places filled. This, we afterwards learned, was actually 
 the case. The right place for us to report, in order 
 that everything might be put in proper shape, was at 
 Washington, and to the Secretary of War, Hon. Edwin 
 M. Stanton, in person. Our case, as the rebels had 
 been showing to our cost for the past year, was not that 
 of ordinary prisoners of war, and we thought ourselves 
 entitled to claim the same distinction on Federal soil. 
 I therefore informed the commander that we had urgent 
 business with Secretary Stanton, and must be sent to 
 him. He was a little incredulous at first, but as soon 
 as I gave my reasons he gracefully yielded. 
 
 Our reception in Washington was even more cordial 
 than it had been on the truce-boat. We were provided 
 with most comfortable quarters, and literally feasted on 
 the best the city afforded. Secretary Stanton asked us 
 to go before Judge- Advocate-General Holt and there 
 give our deposition, that the full particulars of what he 
 was pleased to consider our extraordinary adventures 
 might be given to the world on an unquestionable 
 basis. Our first visit to Judge Holt was merely 
 friendly, at which Major-General Hitchcock and Mr. 
 J. C. Wetmore, Ohio State Agent, were also present. 
 We were invited to come again on the morrow, when 
 we found a justice of the peace and a phonographer to 
 
SICKNESS AND LIBERTY. 339 
 
 take our testimony. I was questioned first, and the 
 examination covered all the outlines of the story. All 
 were sworn except Mason, who was unable from illness 
 to be present. The result of the examination, together 
 with Judge Holt's comments upon it, were published 
 in the Army and Navy Gazette of that date. 
 
 General Hitchcock then accompanied us in our call 
 upon Secretary Stanton, where we enjoyed a most de- 
 lightful interview. At its close he brought out six 
 medals which had been prepared according to a recent 
 act of Congress and left to his disposal. He said that 
 they were the first given to private soldiers in this war. 
 Jacob Parrot, the boy who had endured the terrible 
 beating, received, as he well deserved, the first one. 
 
 Secretary Stanton next presented us one hundred 
 dollars each from the secret service fund as pocket- 
 money, and gave orders for payment to us of all ar- 
 rearages, and for refunding the full value of the 
 money and arms taken from us at our capture. This 
 w r as not all. He tendered us, each one, a commission 
 in the regular army, and on our expressing a prefer- 
 ence for the volunteer service, he requested Governor 
 Tod, of Ohio, to give us equivalent promotion in our 
 own regiments. These commissions were promptly 
 given, but through ill health, some of our number, my- 
 self included, were not able to be mustered as officers. 
 
 Stanton praised the bravery of Mitchel in the high- 
 est terms, and stated that he had been aware of our 
 expedition, but, until the escape of our eight comrades 
 in October, had supposed that we had all perished ; 
 that he had then threatened retaliation in case any 
 more of us were executed, and had demanded to know 
 the reason for the execution of the seven who had been 
 put to death. It was answered that the Confederate 
 government had no knowledge of the death of any 
 member of the party. Since that time he had been 
 most anxious to effect our exchange, and by special 
 •effort had at last succeeded in arranging it. 
 
340 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 We were then escorted to the Executive Mansion^ 
 and had a most pleasing interview with President Lin- 
 coln. We told him many incidents of prison experi- 
 ence and received his sympathizing comments in return. 
 
 After taking: our leave of the President we received 
 transportation at government expense to our homes. 
 The joy of our reception in our own Ohio and among 
 our own kindred I will not attempt to describe. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 nsro. i. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE REPORT OF JUDGE-ADVOCATE- 
 GENERAL HOLT TO THE SECRETARY OF WAR 
 
 " Judge-Advocate-General's Office, 
 
 « March 27, 1863. 
 
 " Sik, — I have the honor to transmit for your con- 
 sideration the accompanying depositions of Sergeant 
 William Pittenger, Company G, Second Regiment, 
 Ohio Volunteers ; Private Jacob Parrot, Company K, 
 Thirty-third Regiment, Ohio Volunteers; Private 
 Robert Buffum, Company H, Twenty-first Ohio Volun- 
 teers ; Corporal William Reddick, Company B, Thirty- 
 third Regiment, Ohio Volunteers; and Private Wil- 
 liam Bensinger, Company G, Twenty-first Regiment, 
 Ohio Volunteers ; taken 'at this office on the 25th in- 
 stant, in accordance with your written instructions; 
 from which the following facts will appear : 
 
 " These non-commissioned officers and privates be- 
 longed to an expedition set on foot in April, 1862, at 
 the suggestion of Mr. J. J. Andrews, a citizen of Ken- 
 tucky, who led it, and under the authority and direc- 
 tion of General O. M. Mitchel, the object of which was 
 to destroy the communications on the Georgia State 
 Rail road 'between Atlanta and Chattanooga. 
 
 "The mode of operation proposed was to reach a 
 point on the road where they could seize a locomotive 
 and train of cars, and then dash back in the direction 
 of Chattanooga, cutting the telegraph wires and burn- 
 
 29* 341 
 
342 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ing the bridges behind them as they advanced, until 
 they reached their own lines. The expedition consisted 
 of twenty-four men, who, with the exception of its 
 leader, Mr. Andrews, and another citizen of Kentucky, 
 — who acted on the occasion as the substitute of a sol- 
 dier, — had been selected from the different companies 
 for their known courage and discretion. They were 
 informed that the movement was to be a secret one, and 
 they doubtless comprehended something of its perils, 
 but Mr. Andrews and Mr. Reddick alone seem to have 
 known anything of its precise direction or object. 
 They, however, voluntarily engaged in it, and made 
 their way, in parties of two or three, in citizen's dress, 
 and carrying only their side-arms, to Chattanooga, the 
 point of rendezvous agreed upon, where twenty-two 
 out of the twenty-four arrived safely. Here they took 
 passage, without attracting observation, for Marietta, 
 which they reached at twelve o'clock on the night of 
 the 11th of April. On the following morning they 
 took the cars back again towards Chattanooga, and at 
 a place called Big Shanty, while the engineer and pas- 
 sengers were breakfasting, they detached the locomotive 
 and three box-cars from the train and started at full 
 speed for Chattanooga. They were now upon the field 
 of the operations proposed by the expedition, but sud- 
 denly encountered unforeseen obstacles. According to 
 the schedule of the road, of which Mr. Andrews had 
 possessed himself, they should have met but a single 
 train on that day, whereas they met three, two of them 
 being engaged on extraordinary service. About an 
 hour was lost in waiting to allow these trains to pass, 
 which enabled their pursuers to press closely upon 
 them. They removed rails, threw out obstructions on 
 the road, and attained, when in motion, a speed of sixty 
 miles an hour; but the time lost could not be regained. 
 After having run about one hundred miles they found 
 their supply of wood, water, and oil exhausted, while 
 the rebel locomotive which had been chasing them was- 
 
APPENDIX. ;>4£. 
 
 m sight. Under these circumstances they had no al- 
 ternative but to abandon their cars and flv to the woods, 
 which they did, under the orders of Mr. Andrews, each 
 one endeavoring to save himself as best he might. 
 
 "The expedition thus failed from causes which re- 
 flected neither upon the genius by which it was planned, 
 nor upon the intrepidity and discretion of those engaged 
 in executing it. But for the accident of meeting these 
 trains, — which could not have been anticipated, — the 
 movement would have been a complete success, and the 
 whole aspect of the war in the South and the Southwest 
 would have been at once changed. The expedition 
 itself, in the daring of its conception, had the wildness 
 of a romance; while in the gigantic and overwhelming 
 results which it sought, and was likely to accomplish, 
 it was absolutely sublime. 
 
 " The twenty-two captives, when secured, were thrust 
 into the negro jail of Chattanooga. They occupied a 
 single room, half under ground, and but thirteen feet 
 square, so that there was not space enough for them all 
 to lie down together, and a part of them were, in con- 
 sequence, obliged to sleep sitting and leaning against 
 the walls. The only entrance was through a trap-door 
 in the ceiling, that was raised twice a day to let down 
 their scanty meals, which were lowered in a bucket. 
 They had no other light or ventilation than that which 
 came through two small, triple-grated windows. They 
 were covered with swarming vermin, and the heat was 
 so oppressive that they were often obliged to strip them- 
 selves entirely of their clothes to bear it. Add to this, 
 they were all handcuffed, and, with trace-chains secured 
 around their necks by padlocks, were fastened to each 
 other in companies of twos and threes. Their food, 
 which was doled out to them twice a day, consisted of 
 a little flour wet with water and baked in the form of 
 bread, and spoiled pickled beef. They had no oppor- 
 tunity of procuring supplies from the outside, nor had 
 they any means of doing so, — their pockets having been 
 
344 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 rifled of their last cent by the Confederate authorities, 
 prominent among whom was a rebel officer wearing the 
 uniform of a major. No part of the money thus basely 
 taken was ever returned." 
 
 [The report narrates the continued sufferings of the 
 adventurers in prison substantially as they are given in 
 the preceding pages, and concludes :] 
 
 " So they remained until a few days since, when they 
 were exchanged ; and thus, at the end of eleven months, 
 terminated their pitiless persecutions in the prisons of 
 the South, — persecutions begun and continued amid in- 
 dignities and sufferings on their part, and atrocities on 
 the part of their traitorous foes, which illustrate far 
 more faithfully than any human language could ex- 
 press it the demoniac spirit of a revolt, every throb of 
 whose life is a crime against the very race to which we 
 belong. 
 
 " Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 "J. Holt, 
 " Judge- Advocate- General. 
 
 "Hon. Edwin M. Stanton, 
 " Secretary of War." 
 
APPENDIX. 345 
 
 2sTo_ XI. 
 A SOUTHERN ESTIMATE 
 
 The following extracts from an editorial published 
 in the Atlanta Southern Confederacy of April 15, 1862, 
 will serve to show the intense excitement of the hour : 
 
 "THE GREAT RAILROAD CHASE! 
 
 "THE MOST EXTRAORDINARY AND ASTOUNDING ADVEN- 
 TURE OF THE WAR!! 
 
 "THE MOST DARING UNDERTAKING THAT YANKEES EVER 
 PLANNED OR ATTEMPTED TO EXECUTE ! 
 
 "Stealing an Engine — Tearing up the Track — Pursued 
 on Foot, on Hand- Cars, and Engines — Overtaken — 
 A Scattering — The Capture — The Wonderful Energy 
 of Messrs. Fuller, Murphy, and Cain — Some Reflec- 
 tions, Etc., Etc. 
 
 " Since our last issue we have obtained full particu- 
 lars of the most thrilling railroad adventure that ever 
 occurred on the American continent, as well as the 
 mightiest and most important in its results, if success- 
 ful, that has been conceived by the Lincoln government 
 since the commencement of this war. Nothing on so 
 grand a scale has been attempted, and nothing within 
 the range of possibility could be conceived that would 
 fall with such a tremendous, crushing force upon us as 
 the accomplishment of the plans which were concocted 
 and dependent upon the execution of the one whose 
 history we now proceed to narrate. 
 
 " Its reality — what teas actually done — excels all the 
 extravagant conceptions of the Arrowsmith hoax, which 
 fiction created such a profound sensation in Europe. 
 
346 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 u To make the matter more complete and intelligible, 
 we will take our readers over the same history of the 
 case we related in our last, the main features of which 
 are correct, but lacking in details which have since 
 norae to hand. 
 
 " We will begin at the breakfast-table of the Big 
 Shanty Hotel at Camp McDonald, where several regi- 
 ments of soldiers are now encamped. The morning 
 mail and passenger train had left here at four a.m. on 
 last Saturday morning as usual, and had stopped there 
 for breakfast. The conductor, William A. Fuller, the 
 engineer, J. Cain, — both of this city, — and the passen- 
 gers were at the table, when the eight men, having un- 
 coupled the engine and three empty box-cars next to it 
 from the passenger and baggage-cars, mounted the en- 
 gine, pulled open the valve, put on all steam, and left 
 conductor, engineer, passengers, spectators, and the sol- 
 diers in the camp hard by, all lost in amazement, and 
 dumbfounded at the strange, startling, and daring act. 
 
 " This unheard-of act was doubtless undertaken at 
 chat time and place upon the presumption that pursuit 
 could not be made by an engine short of Kingston, 
 some thirty miles above, or from this place; and by 
 cutting down the telegraph wires as they proceeded the 
 adventurers could calculate on at least three or four 
 hours the start of any pursuit it was reasonable to ex- 
 pect. This was a legitimate conclusion, and but for 
 the will, energy, and quick good judgment of Mr. Ful- 
 ler and Mr. Cain, and Mr. Anthony Murphy, the in- 
 telligent and practical foreman of the wood department 
 of the State Road shop, who accidentally went on the 
 train from this place that morning, their calculations 
 would have worked out as originally contemplated, and 
 the results would have been obtained long ere this 
 reaches the eyes of our readers, — the most terrible to 
 us of any we can conceive as possible, and unequalled 
 by anything attempted or conceived since this war com- 
 menced. 
 
APPENDIX. 347 
 
 " Now for the chase \" 
 
 [The account, which fills a whole page of the paper,, 
 is omitted, as it differs in no essential particular from 
 that given in the foregoing pages. In concluding, the 
 editor gives his estimate of the purpose and magnitude 
 of the expedition.] 
 
 " We do not know what Governor Brown will do in 
 this case, or what is his custom in such matters, but, if 
 such a thing is admissible, we insist on Fuller and 
 Murphy being promoted to the highest honors on the 
 road, — if not by actually giving them the highest posi- 
 tion, at least let them be promoted by brevet. Cer- 
 tainly their indomitable energy and quick correct 
 judgment and decision in the many difficult contingen- 
 cies connected with this unheard-of emergency has 
 saved all the railroad bridges above Ringgold from 
 being burned ; the most daring scheme that this revo- 
 lution has developed has been thwarted, and the tre- 
 mendous results, which, if successful, can scarcely be 
 imagined, much less described, have been averted. 
 Had they succeeded in burning the bridges, the enemy 
 at Huntsville would have occupied Chattanooga before 
 Sunday night. Yesterday they would have been in 
 Knoxville, and thus had possession of all East Tennes- 
 see. Our forces at Knoxville, Greenville, and Cum- 
 berland Gap would ere this have been in the hands of 
 the enemy. Lynchburg, Virginia, would have been 
 moved upon at once. This would have given them 
 possession of the valley of Virginia, and Stonewall 
 Jackson would have been attacked in the rear. They 
 \vould have had possession of the railroad leading to 
 Charlottesville and Orange Court-House, as well as the 
 South Side Railroad leading to Petersburg and Rich- 
 mond. They might have been able to unite with Mc- 
 Clelland forces and attack Joe Johnston's army front 
 and flank. It is not by any means improbable that 
 our army in Virginia would have been defeated, cap- 
 tured, or driven out of the State this week. 
 
348 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 " Then reinforcements from all the eastern and south- 
 eastern portion of the country would have been cut off 
 from Beauregard. The enemy have Huntsville now, 
 and with all these designs accomplished his army would 
 have been effectually flanked. The mind and heart 
 shrink back appalled at the bare contemplation of the 
 awful consequences which would have followed the 
 success of this one act. When Fuller, Murphy, and 
 Cain started from Big Shanty on foot to catch that fugi- 
 tive engine, they were involuntarily laughed at by the 
 crowd, serious as the matter was, — and to most ob- 
 servers it was indeed most ludicrous; but that foot-race 
 saved us, and prevented the consummation of all these 
 tremendous consequences. 
 
 " We doubt if the victory of Manassas or Corinth 
 were worth as much to us as the frustration of this 
 grand coup d'etat. It is not by any means certain that 
 the annihilation of Beauregard's whole army at Corinth 
 would be so fatal a blow to us as would have been the 
 burnino; of the bridges at that time and by these men. 
 
 " When we learned by a private telegraph dispatch 
 a few T days ago that the Yankees had taken Huntsville, 
 we attached no great importance to it. We regarded 
 it merely as a dashing foray of a small party to destroy 
 property, tear up the road, etc., a la Morgan. When 
 an additional telegram announced the force there to be 
 from seventeen to twenty thousand, we were inclined to 
 doubt it, — though coming from a perfectly upright and 
 honorable gentleman, who would not be likely to seize 
 upon a wild report to send here to his friends. The 
 coming to that point with a large force, where they 
 would be flanked on either side by our army, we re- 
 garded as a most stupid and unmilitary act. We now 
 understand it all. They were to move upon Chatta- 
 nooga and Knoxville as soon as the bridges were burnt, 
 and press on into Virginia as far as possible, and take 
 all our forces in that State in the rear. It was all the 
 deepest-laid scheme, and on the grandest scale, that 
 
APPENDIX. 349 
 
 ever emanated from tne brains of any number of Yan- 
 kees combined. It was one, also, that was entirely 
 practicable for almost any day for the last year. There 
 were but two miscalculations in the whole programme : 
 they did not expect men to start out afoot to pursue 
 them, and they did not expect these pursuers on foot 
 to find Major Cooper's old ' Yonah' standing theie 
 already fired up. Their calculations on every othei 
 point were dead certainties. 
 
 " This would have eclipsed anything Captain Mor- 
 gan ever attempted. To think of a parcel of Federal 
 soldiers — officers and privates — coming down into the 
 heart of the Confederate States, — for they were here in 
 Atlanta and at Marietta (some of them got on the train 
 at Marietta that morning, and others were at Big 
 Shanty) ; of playing such a serious game on the State 
 road, which is under the control of our prompt, ener- 
 getic, and sagacious governor, known as such all over 
 America ; to seize the passenger train on his road, right 
 at Camp McDonald, where he has a number of Georgia 
 regiments encamped, and run off with it ; to burn the 
 bridges on the same road, and go safely through to the 
 Federal lines, — all this would have been a feather in 
 the cap of the man or men who executed it." 
 
350 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 USTo. III. 
 
 A FRENCHMAN'S VIEW OF THE CHATTANOOGA RAILROAD 
 
 EXPEDITION. 
 
 The following extract from the " History of the 
 Civil War in America," by the Comte de Paris (vol. 
 ii. pp. 187, 188), is suggestive and characteristic, 
 though erroneous in many particulars. The numbers 
 of those who escaped and of those who perished are re- 
 versed, and the cause assigned for the failure of the ex- 
 pedition is purely imaginary ; but the local coloring is 
 exquisite : 
 
 " Among the expeditions undertaken by Mitchel's 
 soldiers at this period, we must mention one which, 
 despite its tragic termination, shows what a small band 
 of daring men could attempt in America ; it will give 
 an idea of the peculiar kind of warfare which served as 
 an interlude to the regular campaigns of large armies. 
 An individual named Andrews, employed in the secret 
 service of Buell, and twenty-two soldiers selected by 
 him, went to Chattanooga under different disguises, 
 and thence to Marietta, in Georgia, which had been 
 assigned them as a place of rendezvous, and which was 
 situated in the very centre of the enemy's country. 
 Once assembled, they got on board a train of cars 
 loaded with Confederate tiv ps and ammunition. Dur- 
 ing the trip this train stopped, as usual, near a lonely 
 tavern close to the track ; everybody got out, and both 
 engineer and fireman went quietly to breakfast. An- 
 drews took advantage of their absence to jump upon the 
 locomotive, which was detached by his men, with three 
 cars, from the rest of the train; they started off at full 
 speed, leaving their fellow-travellers in a state of stupe- 
 faction. At the stations where they stopped they quietly 
 
APPENDIX. 351 
 
 answered that they were carrying powder to Beaure- 
 gard's army. Presently they began the work of destruc- 
 tion which they had projected ; they cut the telegraph 
 wires, tore up the rails behind them, and proceeded to 
 fire the bridges which they reached on their way to 
 Chattanooga. They hoped to arrive at that city before 
 the news of their expedition had spread abroad, to pass 
 rapidly through it, and join Mitchel at Huntsville. 
 But it was necessary to avoid the trains running in the 
 opposite direction. One of these trains, which they 
 had just passed on the way, after exchanging the most 
 satisfactory explanations, reached an embankment, 
 where Andrews had torn up the rails and made every 
 preparation to throw the cars off the track. The con- 
 ductor discovered the trap in time, and backed his en 
 gine instantly, in order to overtake those who laid it. 
 At his approach the Federals made off in great haste, 
 throwing out of the cars everything that could embar- 
 rass their flight. They at first got a little ahead, and 
 the few occupants of log huts lying contiguous to the 
 railway track looked on without understanding this 
 strange pursuit. But, being short of fuel, they soon 
 began to lose ground ; they could not stop long enough 
 to tear up rails ; they tried in vain to keep up the fire 
 of their engine ; they were about to be overtaken ; their 
 oil had given out ; the axle-boxes were melted by the 
 friction. The game was lost ; they stopped the engine 
 and rushed into the woods, where they hoped to con- 
 ceal themselves. Meanwhile, the telegraph had every- 
 where announced their presence, and the entire popula- 
 tion started in pursuit. A regular hunt was organized 
 in these vast forests, and Andrews was captured with 
 all his men. The majority of them were shut up in 
 narrow iron cages and publicly exhibited at Knoxville, 
 to intimidate the Union men, after which fifteen of 
 them were hung ; the remaining eight were spared, and 
 had the good fortune to survive and relate their strange 
 adventures." 
 
352 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 ICsTo. I"V. 
 
 OLD SCENES REVISITED. 
 
 Nearly twenty years after the events narrated in the 
 preceding pages the writer passed over the same ground 
 again. Many of the prisons in which he had been con- 
 fined were no more. In some cases even their sites 
 had been so changed by the altering and grading of 
 streets as to be undiscoverable. But the railroad from 
 Chattanooga to Atlanta continued to be one of the most 
 important in the whole South, and the memory of the 
 captured train and the stirring events connected with 
 it had become a cherished local tradition. The princi- 
 pal pursuers were also found, some of them being still 
 in the employ of the same railroad, and others located 
 in Atlanta. From these former enemies nothing but 
 kindness was experienced. The very locomotive which 
 had been captured was repaired and continued in use, 
 the writer having the pleasure of once more riding over 
 the road on a train drawn by it. The same stations 
 were passed. Many of the smaller towns were exter- 
 nally almost unchanged. Yet everywhere there was 
 a new atmosphere. War and slavery had vanished, 
 and the enterprises of peace were in the ascendant. 
 Chattanooga and Atlanta displayed wonderful improve- 
 ment, having become like Northern towns in the rush 
 of their business and the character of their population, 
 — -the latter city, however, to a less degree than the 
 former. 
 
 But a still deeper and more melancholy interest was 
 felt in seeking for the bodies of those who had perished 
 so tragically in Atlanta while rebellion was still in the 
 
A PPENDJX. • 353 
 
 plenitude of its power. Of the grave of Andrews, 
 himself, no trace could be found. Many old citizens 
 could point out the spot where his scaffold had been 
 erected, and near which he had been buried. But that 
 portion of the town had been entirely burnt by Sher- 
 man, and when rebuilt the streets had been raised to a 
 higher level and rearranged, so that the precise location 
 of the grave is probably forever lost. 
 
 The scaffold of the seven soldiers was erected in a 
 little wood directly east of the Atlanta city cemetery, 
 about an acre of ground being cleared for that purpose. 
 On this spot, which is now included within the bounds 
 of the cemetery, the terrible tragedy took place. The 
 heart of the writer was almost overwhelmed as he stood 
 there on a peaceful Sabbath afternoon and brought back 
 in recollection that hour of horror ! When the work 
 of death was completed the bodies were placed side by 
 side in a wide trench »t th* foot of the scaffold and 
 covered over. So profound was the impression made 
 by their heroism that the place of burial could not be 
 forgotten, and was often visited by sympathizing friends 
 even during the continuance of the war. But this rude 
 grave is now empty, and for a time the writer could 
 not ascertain what disposition had been made of its con- 
 tents. An old man formerly connected with the ceme- 
 tery at length supplied the information that the bodies 
 had been removed, not to the Federal cemetery at 
 Marietta, as had been first conjectured, but to the more 
 distant and larger one at Chattanooga. Here, in prob- 
 ably the most beautiful of all the National cemeteries, 
 the graves were found. In Section H, placed in the 
 open space about the centre, which is usually assigned 
 to commissioned officers, the seven heroes have obtained 
 a final resting-place. There is a headstone, with name 
 and rank, at each grave, and the seven are arranged in 
 the form of a semicircle. This part of the cemetery 
 overlooks a long stretch of the Georgia State Railroad, 
 the great prize they struggled to seize for their country 
 x " 30* 
 
354 CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE. 
 
 aqd thus lost their lives. From this spot the frequent 
 trains are distinctly visible. Watched by the moun- 
 tains and undisturbed by the passing tide of human 
 activity, they rest here as peacefully as if death had 
 stolen upon them in the midst of friends at home in- 
 stead of rushing down amid the gloom and horror of 
 that memorable Atlanta scaffold. 
 
 THI JOT. 
 
 7 <>8 n, 
 705 
 

 
 
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