PITTEKGERJ Great locomotive chase cqp«2 No INF( ^ , ^ A., boo 507557 ,Hey are due. Books may not be renewed. Books must be returned to the library building from which they were borrowed. EACH BOOK KEPT OVERTIME IS SUB- JECT TO A FINE OF TWO CENTS A DAY UNTIL ITS RETURN. The Library reserves the right to call in books at any time. Marking or mutilating a book in any way is prohibited under the laws of the City of Peoria. PEORIA PUBLIC LIBRARY THE " 263 GREAT LOCOMOTIVE CHASE A HISTORY OF THE ANDREWS RAILROAD RAID Into Georgia in 1862 BY WILLIAM PITTENGER A Member of the Expedition ' n 0 '^ — EIGHTH EDITION THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA MCMXXI JUL 24 192f THE GREAT LOCOMOTIVE CHASE. SXXTH EBITION, completely rewritten greatly enlarged. tot f f on was published in 1863. under the title "Danng and >'"fl«-8 • 1881 under the title " Capturing a Locomotive the third m 1887. One of the best and most exciting books we ever read."-Gr«nd Army Becont <. A vivid and authentic account of Andrews' railroad rald-a most danng adven •tjire "—The News, Chicago. Thisisanarrativeof oneof the wildest and most thrilling adventures of the vwar "—The Evening Post, N. Y. City. ^There is no parallel in history to this undertaKing of Andrews m an enemy s .ountry."— Commerciai Gazette, Cincinnati, O. -4 book is unsurpassed for its sustained interest. One ..annot Oegin it wivL ,ut reading it through.-'-ITie Hartford Courant. ^ .k , „. Tis : romance as thrilling as any exploit in the days of chivalry, and the fac. that it is true does not dull its bvilliaucy."-Ci<;veW leader. , .„ ^ ' " se L of adventures equaled by no war lustory. and the book wUl have as Win., qualities as Uncle Tom's Cabin.- ■-Philadelphia Times. "^^ The enterprise was the most daring ever conceived and was carriea out with *Qual courage though ill-fated as to result8."-Cte«0o 3tmes. • So thrillingly and graphically told that the readers pulses tmgle as his fancy • ti^jc w^irl Pvnedition "—T7ie Coiirier, Buffalo, N. 1. tories of imprisonment and escape. "-Tnimne. N. Y. City. V, wii o^ PiHPneer- 1887 by the War Publishing Co. ; 1868, by J. W. copyright, 1889. by WjU-m P.tten.^^^^^ ^rMrs'wilUau. Pitten.er. To THE GRAND ARMY OF THE WEST WHICH, UNDER COMMAND OF GENERAL SHERMAN, IN ONE HUNDRED DAYS OF CON- TINUOUS BATTLE, KOLIvOWED US OVER THE LINE OF THE GEORGIA STATE RAILROAD FROM CHATTANOOGA TO ATLANTA, AND CONQUERED WHERE WE ONLY DARED. THIS FRAGMENT OF HISTORY IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND FRATER.NALLV INSCRIBED BY THE WRITER AND HIS COMRADES OF THE ANDREWS RAID. PARTICIPANTS IN THE RAID Extcuted June pk, j8b2: James J. Andrews, Leado*. Executed June tSth, 1862 : William Campbell, from Salineville, O, Perry G. Shadrack, Co. IC,sdO> George D. Wilson, Co. B, 2d O. Samuel Slavens, Cc E, 33d O- Marion A. Ross, Co. A, 2d O. Samuel Robertson, c O, sjdO. John M. Scott, Co. F, 21st O. Escaped October ibth, 1862 : Wilson W. Brown (Engineer), Co. F, 21st O. Mark Wood, Co. C, 21st O. William J. Knight (Engineer), Co. E, 21st O. John A. Wilson, Co. C, 2ist O. John Reed Porter, Co. G, aist O. John Wollam, Co. C, 33d O. Martin J. Hawkins, Co. A, 33d O. Daniel A. Dorshy, Co. H, 33d O. Exckan^ed March 18th, 1863: Jacob Parrott, Co. K, 33d O. William H. Reddick, Co. B, 33d (X Robert Buffum, Co. H, 21st O. Elihu H. Mason, Co. K, 2ist O. William Bensinger, Co. G, 21st O. William Pittenger, Co. G, ad O. THE SURVIVORS OF THE RAID, AND THEIR POST OFFICE ADDRESSES JUNE, 1904: William J. Knight, Stryker, Williams Co., Ohio. Wilson W. Brown, Monclova, Lucas Co., Ohio. William Bensinger, McComb, Hancock Co., Ohia Jacob Parrott, Kenton, Hardin Co., Ohio. John Reed Porter, Portland, Indiana. Daniel A. Dorsey, Enid, Garfield Co., Oklahoma, THE DECEASED SINCE 1862: Lieut. Mark Wood, died in Toledo, O., July nth, 1866. Lieut. Robert Buffum, died in Auburn, N. Y., Insane Asylum, July 20th, 1871. Lieut. Martin J. Hawkins, died in Quincy, 111., February 7th, 1886. John Wollam, died in Topeka, Kansas, September 25th, 1890. Buried at Jack- son, Ohio. Capt. Elihu H. Mason, died in Pemberville, Ohio, September 24th, 1896. William H. Reddick, died in Letts, Louisa Co., Iowa, November 8th, 1903. John Alfred Wilson, died in Perrysburg, Wood Co., Ohio, March 28th, 1904.. William Pittenger, died in Fallbrook, San Diego Co., California, April 24th, 1904. if; PREFACE. ' I ^HIS book, which is partly historical and partly personal, is writ- JL ten from the standpoint of frank egotism. It is far more easy to tell what the writer thought, felt and did, in the first person, than to resort to tedious circumlocution. As a large part of the interest of such a narrative must consist in describing the sensations experi- enced in passing through such appalling dangers and tremendous vicissitudes of fortune, it is clear that in a work of plain fact the writer cannot avoid making himself more prominent than his com- rades. His own emotions and the incidents in which he partici- pated will be indelibly engraven in his memory, while impressions received at second hand grow dim with the passage of years. It also happened that, in most cases where selection was practicable, the writer was made the spokesman of the whole party, and was thus brought into more frequent contact with both friend and foe. Many instances of this will be noticed all through the story. Great care has been taken in the citation of authorities. The writer has not hesitated to claim for his own notes and memories the full weight to which they are entitled, and has carefully indi- cated the sources from which he has drawn all other facts. In no portion of war history of equal magnitude is there more abundant material preserved both on the Federal and the Confederate sides. This is indicated by the accompanying list of authorities; and authority for separate incidents is adduced either in notes or at the 6 Preface, beginning of chapters. With great care in sifting testimony and constant references to original documenrts, the writer hopes not only to give the exact and literal truth, but to carry the con- viction of the judicious reader with him on every page. Whenever conjectures or statements of probabilities are haz- arded to bridge any chasm in the narrative, they will be offered for what they are, and always clearly separated from known facts. This Sixth Edition contains considerable new matter, such as the account of the Ohio monument and the history of the Andrews Raiders to date. New illustrations also have been added. The greatest improvement, however, has been made by fusing into the continuous story all the additional material which had accumulated during the past thirty-one years, thus doing away with the cumbrous supplement of former editions. It is believed that no portion of the civil war has been more fully and faithfully recorded. Abundant references verify every material statement. The writer hopes that this complete and permanent edition will aid in maintaining for " The Loco- motive Chase " its enviable place in the front rank of all war stories. WM. PITTENGER, Colton, Cal., Jan. ist, 1893. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. A Secret Military Raid in the West ....... 15 II. General Mitchel and J. J. Andrews Arrange a Second Raid . . 25 III. Selection of Engineers and Soldiers ....... 36 IV. Departure at Night .......... 45 V. Previous History of James J. Andrews 53 VI. First Lessons in Disguise and Duplicity ...... 64 VII. The Heart of the Confederacy Reached ...... 73 VII [. The Bloodless Victories of Mitchel 87 IX. Capture of the Train .......... 97 X. Pursued ! . . 113 XI. An Appalling Struggle ......... 123 XII. The Final Race .......... 143 XIII. What was Actually Accomplished ....... 153 XIV. Hunted in the Woods 161 XV. A Sad Sabbath Morning 171 XVI. The Roll of the Captives 181 XVII. First Prison Experiences 203 XVIII. The Old Negro Jail at Chattanooga 216 XIX. Gleams of Hope 228 XX. Gen. Mitchel Saves the Raiders 235 XXI. A Struggle Against Destiny 250 XXII. Knoxville 264 XXIII. A Day of Blood 279 XXIV, After the Tragedy 291 XXV. A Daring Escape 306 XXVI. In Cave and Mountain ......... 327 XXVII. The Loyal Mountaineers ......... 334 XXVIII. Down the Tennessee. ......... 342 XXIX. Floating to the Gulf 348 XXX. The Recaptured Prisoners ......... 360 XXXI. Richmond and its Prisons. ........ 374 XXXII. Last Experiences in Rebel Prisons . . . . . , . 386 XXXI n. Homeward Bound 397 XXXIV. Re})orting to Secretary .Stanton and President Lincoln . . . 406 XXXV. Subsequent History of the Railroad Adventurers . . . 417 XXXVI. The South Revisited a Quarter of a Century After . . . 425 XXXVII. A Detailed Account of the First or Buell Railroad Raid . . 441 XXXVIII. Autobiography .......... 447 XXXIX. Editorial Account from the Southern Confederacy . . . 455 XL. Message of Gov. Jos. E. Brown to the Legislature of Georgia in 1862 ........... 464 XLI. Official Report by Judge-Advocate-General Holt . . . 465 XLII. Criticisms of Generals Buell and Fry ..... 471 XLIII. The Reburial of Andrews ........ 475 XLIV. Proposed Monument ......... 478 XLV. Dedication of Ohio Monument in i8gi 487 A PARTIAL LIST OF AUTHORITIES REFERRED TO IN "THE GREAT LOCOMOTIVE CHASE." 1. THE OFFICIAL WAR RECORDS.— These are now in course of publication by the Government at Washington. They comprise four series, each containing a number of large volumes. In several of these there are notices of the Railroad Raid, but the principal account is found in Series I., Vol. X., Part i, extending from page 630 to 639. 2. REPORT OF WOOD AND WILSON IN 1862.— This was made to the Sec- retary of War, on Nov. 12th, 1862, when the two arrived, as escaping prisoners, at Key West, Fla. A fuller account by the same persons was published in the Key West, Fla. , New Era, three days later. 3. SWORN TESTIMONY OF SURVIVORS.— The testimony of five of the sur- vivors, Buffum, Bensinger, Parrott, Reddick and Pittenger was taken under oath at Wash- ington, and phonographically reported, by order of Secretary Stanton. It is still pre- served in the Archives at Washington. 4. THE FIRST EDITION OF "DARING AND SUFFERING."— This was begun a short time after the return home of the writer, and was founded mainly on personal recollections, aided by a few shorthand notes. Several survivors also contributed personal sketches and incidents to the book. It was published in Philadelphia, by J. W. Daughaday, in October, 1863. In this book the narrative assumed its usual form. 5. UNPUBLISHED LETTERS AND PAPERS OF GEN. O. M. MIT- CHEL. — These, as well as an unpublished biography by himself, were generously placed at my disposal by his son, F. A. Mitchel, Esq. (A biography of Gen. Mitchel, "As- tronomer and General," embracing most of these papers, by his son, is now [1887] pass- ing through the press of Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston.) 6. THE ADVENTURES OF ALF. WILSON, ONE OF THE MITCHEL RAIDERS, by J. A. Wilson. — Published in Toledo, Ohio. This is especially valuable as giving the marvelous adventures of the writer in escaping from prisons. 7. CAPTURING A LOCOMOTIVE, by Wm. Pittenger.— Published by J. B. Lippincott, 1881. 8. CONDUCTOR WILLIAM A. FULLER.--Accounts published by this gen- tleman, in The Sunny South and other papers, and still more important personal com- munications made to the writer, for which due credit is given in the appropriate places. 9. WAR FILES OF SOUTHERN NEWSPAPERS, especially of the Atlanta, Ga., Southern Confederacy' 10. "AN EPISODE OF THE WAR."— This is an account of some of the most important events of this history to which he was an eye-witness, by Rev. W. J. Scott, and is published in a volume of essays, with a strong pro-slavery bias, entitled, " From Lincoln to Cleveland," Atlanta, Ga., 1886. 11. THE FOLLOWING MEMBERS OF THE ORIGINAL EXPEDITION have each furnished me with important manuscripts as well as verbal communications: D. A. Dorsey, Kearney, Nebraska; J. R. Porter, McComb, Wood Co., Ohio ; William Bensinger, McComb, Wood Co., Ohio; William Knight, Stryker, Williams Co., Ohio; Jacob Parrott, Kenton, Hardin Co., Ohio ; W. W. Brown, Dowling, Wood Co., Ohio; William Reddick, Newport, Louisa Co., Iowa. 12. FRANK HAWKINS, Treasury Department, Columbus, Ohio, and Captain Jas. F. Sarratt, of Steubenville, have furnished many written details of the first expedition. 13. MR. ANTHONY MURPHY, Foreman of Repair Shops of the Western and Atlantic Railroad. A v^-y valuable written communication, descriptive of the chase on the railroad was prepared for mc by this gentleman. 14. THE ANDREWS RAIDERS, by Frank M. Gregg.— Chattanooga, 1 891. A local pamphlet furnishing many narratives of old citizens about Chat- tanooga. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE 1. The Capture of the Train in an Enemy's Camp. . . Frontispiece 2. Map of Southern R,R. System Threatened by the Andrews Raid . . 12 3. Portrait of James J. Andrews ......... 17 4. Photograph of Gen. O. M, Mitchel 30 5. Photograph of Wilson W, Brown, Engineer. ...... 36 6. Photograph of William Knight, Engineer ....... 38 7. Photograph of Capt. James F. Sarratt ........ 38 8. Photograph of Marion Ross. ......... 41 9. Photograph of William Pittenger. ........ 45 10. Andrews Seen by the Lightning Flash ....... 51 11. Photograph of Flemingsburg, Ky. ........ 53 12. Photograph of J. J. Andrews ......... 55 13. Photograph of Miss Elizabeth J. Layton ....... 56 14. Photograph of Geo. D. Wilson 67 15. Photograph of William Campbell. ........ 67 16. Photograph of William Reddick 79 17. Preparing to Cross the Tennessee River ....... 82 18. Map of the Campaign of Gen. Mitchel. ....... 88 19. Gen. Mitchel's Armed Train ......... 94 20. Map of the Western and Atlantic or Georgia State Railroad. ... 99 21. Bed-room Consultation at Marietta ........ 100 22. Photograph of Capt. W. A. Fuller (Confederate Conductor) . . . 102 23. Seizing the Train. ........... 104 24. Photograph of John Scott .......... 106 25. Tearing up Track ........... 109 26. Photograph of Anthony Murphy, Supt. W. & A. Machine Shops. . . 116 27. Oostenaula Bridge ........... 135 28. In Sight ! Ties Thrown from Car ........ 138 29. At the Wood-station ........... 139 30. Kindling a Fire in the Box-car ......... 146 31. Leaving the Locomotive . . . . . . . , » . 151 32. Photograph of the Locomotive " The General " ...... 160 33. Climbing the Chattanooga Precipice ........ 164 34. News from Ringgold ! ....... . . 180 35. Photograph (A Samuel Slavens 181 36. Sbrfns, Campoell and Shadrack in Chains . . . . , . .182 37. Ph- fograpb of Jacob Parrott 183 38 Bitv ^ihountjs Seen on the Trail 185 Li^t of Illustrations, PAGE 39. Wood and Wilson on the Tennessee 199 40. The Iron Cage at Lafayette, Ga. 203 41. Chained in a Carriage. 208 42. Confronted with Gen. Leadbetter 213 43. The Swims Jail at Chattanooga . 218 44. Manner of Sleeping in the Swims Jail 220 45. The Chained Men Descending into the Dungeon ..... 223 46. The Raiders Seated in the Cars ......... 238 47. " Meet me on the other side of Jordan " ....... 249 48. Escape of Andrews and Wollam 252 49. Riveting Chains in the Dungeon. 256 50. Photograph of Judge O. P. Temple ........ 266 51. Photograph of Judge Baxter ......... 267 52. The Old Court-house at Knoxville, Tenn. 268 53. The Court Martial 271 54. Photograph of Captain David Fry . . . . . . , . 275 55. Photograph of Rev. W. J. Scott 281 56. Speech of Wilson on the Scaffold 287 57. Photo-l.ithograph of Letter to Jefferson Davis . . . . » . 293 58. Photo-Lithographs of Endorsements by Gen. Bragg, Jefferson Davis and Others • 308, 309 59. Photograph of Geo. W. Walton . . . . . . . . , 313 60. Photograph of Robert Buffum . . . . . . . . . 317 61. Photograph of William Bensinger 318 62. Seizing the Guard at Atlanta . . . . . . . . , 319 63. T-he Race in the Woods .......... 323 64. Photograph of Elihu H. Mason ......... 328 65. Victory over Bloodhounds ! ......... 329 66. Brown and Knight Capture a Pig . . . . . . . . 331 67. The Fugitives entering a Cave ......... 332 68. Photograph of D. A. Dorsey 334 69. Photograph of Martin J. Hawkins ........ 336 70. Photograph of John R. Porter ......... 342 71. Photograph of Mark Wood 348 72. At Sight of the Old Flag ! 358 73. Photograph of Libby Prisons ......... 375 74. Taking a Dead Man's Name 391 75. Eating in the Engine-room .......... 404 76. Fac-simile of Congress Medals of Honor . . . . . . . 412 77. Interview with President Lincoln : " A little luck with the battles, now !" . 414 78. Photograph of W. W. Brown . 418 79. Jacob Parrott and D. A. Dorsay overlooking Chattanooga . . 419 80. Photograph of William H. Reddick 420 81. Photographs of Seven Survivors of the Andrews Raid . . . 439 82. Photographs of Members of the First Expedition . , . . 44- 83. Captured Locomotive at Columbus G. A. R. Encampment . • 479 8^. Ohio Monument . . . ■ 486 Writing or marking in ,h-s bock .vrn fo, tbeccction .f iJTOsraphicalerr.ra. i. stnctiy forbidden / . ti'=,i- ^ "-rr.t or mu- t».aUon w.., . „arfc-d the last borrow- er preceeding Ae ditcovery. DARING AND SUFFERING. CHAPTER I. A SECRET MILITARY RAID IN THE WEST. IT is painful for me to recall the adventures of the year beginning April 7th, 1862. As I compose m.y mind to the task there rises before me the memory of days of suffering and nights of sleepless apprehension, ■ — days and nights that in their black monotony seemed well nigh eternal. And time has not yet dulled the sorrow of that terrible day, when comrades made dear as brothers by common danger and suffering were suddenly dragged to a fearful death that I expected soon to share. A man who^ has walked for months in the shadow of the scaffold and escaped at last almost by miracle will never find the experience a pleasant one to dwell upon, even in thought. Yet it cannot be forgotten, and the easiest way to answer the inquiries of friends, and to satisfy the curiosity of the public, is to put the whole matter candidly, faithfully, and minutelv on record. In the spring of 1862 a small secret expedition was sent from the Union lines into the very heart of the Confederate States. In its progress it aroused great excitement, first in the South and afterwards in the North, occasioned the most intense suffering to the soldiers engaged in it, and afterwards gave rise to many eager controversies. Several publications of a more or less ephemeral character have been devoted to it, and no story of the war seems to have fixed itself so firmly in the popular imagination. The piosent work is the full and complete edition of a small volume by the same writer, with the same title, which was hurriedly written before the freshness of personal impressions had faded, and while the horror and agony came back almost nightly in dreams. The writer is confident that this story, faithfully told, will give a more vivid picture of the spirit, feel- ings, and awful earnestness of the civil war than any more general war history. To do justice to brave men who perished in a manner ignomini- ous in form but not in reality, to place romantic and almost incredii)le tvents, for which there will soon be no living witnesses, upon a basis of Daring and Suffering. unquestionable certainty, and to help a new generation to realize the cost of upholding the Union, is the writer's aim. The manner in which this volume was produced leaves little room for that unconscious exaggeration to which even candid narrators are liable. The writer made phonographic notes of the principal events very near the time of their occurrence, — mostly on the margins of a small vol- ume of "Paradise Lost." There were enough days of dreary leisure for this or any other kind of work ! On leaving the enemy's territory, he and his comrades were, by order of the Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton, brought to Washington, examined under oath, and their answers written down in shorthand, and officially published, together with a lengthened and eloquent report by Judge-Advocate-General Holt. Immediately after- wards the small volume, ''''Daring and Suffering," was written at the solici- tation of friends — a crude and hasty sketch prepared before the author had recovered from the sickness that followed his unexampled privations— but preserving the facts in their freshness, and attested in its recital of incidents by all the survivors of the expedition. Now that twenty-five years have passed, and the passions of war and the bitterness of partisanship have de- clined, — now that the dispatches and letters of Generals and the captured Confederate archives are accessible, and that the author has been enabled to go carefully over the whole ground and explore every source of informa- tion, from friend or former enemy, it seems possible to supply all the de- ficiencies of the earlier edition without diminishing its intense personal in- terest, and thus to furnish a complete and well-rounded history of the most dramatic adventure of the Great Civil War. There were two distinct railroad raids into Georgia, which have some- times been confounded. The first was authorized by Major General Buell in March, 1862, and sent out from Murfreesboro',Tenn. The second start- ing from Shelby ville, Tenn., in April of the same year under the direction of Gen. O. M. Mitchel, was larger and more important, and had quite a different purpose. Nearly everything which has been published on the subject refers to the second expedition. I will, however, write the history of the first also, that the relation between them may be clearly seen, and all future mis- understanding be prevented. The Union cause looked bright in the spring of 1862. It was nearly three years before the Confederates saw again so dark a day. Our eastern army under Gen. McClellan, numbering more than 100,000, was about ready to advance on Richmond. Gen. Grant, after capturing Forts Henry and Donelson, had sent the bulk of his forces to Pittsburg Landing, and was hurrying forward every available man. Buell had occupied Nashville after the enemy — because of the capture of Fort Donelson — had retreated, and was now urged by Halleck to send a large part of his force by water A Secret Military Raid in ihe West. 15 to reinforce Grant. This he declined to do, fearing that the enemy might return to Tennessee and capture Nashville; but he at length divided his force, sending the larger portion by deliberate marches southwest toward Pittsburg Landing, and a single division of about 10,000 under Gen. O. M. Mitchel, supported by 7,000 more in garrison at Nashville and sur- rounding towns, in a southeast direction. To oppose these powerful forces the enemy had an army in Virginia not more than one half as large as McClellan's, and in the west, at Corinth, the commands of Beauregard and Johnston, which were not yet concentrated, and were much inferior to those of Grant and Buell. Gen. Mitchel had no organized enemy in his front, but was marching into a country of vast importance to the Confed- erates, which they were certain to strenuously defend. A few compara- tively small Union and Confederate armies opposed each other west of the Mississippi, and at various points along the sea-coast and the borders, with the preponderance usually on the Union side; but these may, for present purposes, be left out of account. The main rebel armies, those of Virginia and Mississippi, were united by a chain of railroads running from Memphis, Huntsville, Chattanooga, Knoxville and Lynchburg to Richmond; and this constituted their new and strong line of defense. They had indeed no other railroad communication except a very circuit- ous and precarious one along the sea coast. At Chattanooga this direct line was intersected almost at right angles by another extending from Nashville to Atlanta, and from there to all parts of the south. It was the object of the Union generals, while preserving all they had gained, to break this line, and thus isolate the rebel armies and render easy their defeat in detail. The first assault was to be made at Corinth, to which the Tennessee River formed an easy channel of approach. It was defended by a large army, for if captured, Memphis and all the upper Mississippi would also fall into Union hands. Unfortunately, this portion of the West was at that time in two different departments under the com-. mand of Generals Halleck and Buell,— both able strategists but slow and timid. For fear of exposing Nashville to attack, the latter declined to reinforce Gen. Grant, who was acting under the orders of Halleck, by steamboat transport over the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers; but instead marched toward his position through Franklin and Columbia. With the magnified estimate Buell had formed of the enemy's strength in Tennessee, this appeared to be the more prudent course; and had the ad- vance been more vigorous and rapid, the imminent danger of disaster at Shiloh would have been removed. But even with this disposition, Buell feared that an army of the enemy might concentrate by rail somewhere in the direction of Chattanooga or Knoxville, and fall upon his rear. He believed ' that a large force was gathering at Atlanta and also in Eastern * Buell to Halleck, Mar. 23, 1862. War Records. Ser. I. Vol. X., Part 2, Page 60. 1 6 Daring and Suffering. Tennessee, from which Nashville might be in great danger. These appre- hensions, which delayed and weakened his movement towards Pittsburg Landing and endangered Grant, had at least one good effect. Gen. Mitchel was detached from the main army and ordered to Murfreesboro, with a primary view of guarding against any Confederate advance from the South or East; but he was able afterwards, by using his discretionary power to the utmost, to make the brilliant march upon Huntsville and to accomplish more against the enemy than any Union general with similar forces had been able to do up to this period of the contest. While at Nashville, Mr. J. J. Andrews, a spy in the service of Buell, proposed to that General a daring plan, which, if successful, would for the time effectually relieve his fears and render a very important service to the Union arms. He offered to take a very small party of fearless men, dis- guise them as Southern citizens, conduct them to Atlanta, where he would meet a friend of his who ran a locomotive on the Georgia State Railroad from Chattanooga; then to ride with his party as passengers to a favor- able point; there to capture the locomotive and to cut the telegraph wirec behind him; then to run through Chattanooga and from this point west- ward, burning the bridges behind him, especially the great one over the Tennessee . River at Bridgeport. Whether bridges were to be burned South of Chattanooga or not is a point that cannot now be determined; if not, it seems singular that Andrews should have conducted his men so far south as Atlanta; neither is the limit of his proposed operations westward accurately known. That the complete success of such a scheme would have greatly injured the enemy can be seen at a single glance. It would have hindered the concentration of troops and supplies at Corinth a week or ten days before the battle of Shiloh, which probably would not have been fought. It would have relieved Buell from his fears as to a flank or rear attack, or a march upon Nashville, and probably have induced him to reinforce Grant promptly nnd vigorously. It would have cut the main communication for some days or weeks between the eastern and western armies of the Confederate states at a most critical period. It did not promise the greater positive results of the second expedition, mainly because Gen. Buell was not looking toward rapid and aggressive action in Southern Tennessee. But no candid mind can question the great impor- tance of the results promised, or the daring character of the man who could plan such work 300 miles away in the heart of the enemy's country. We may safely assume that the scheme originated with the intrepid spy and not wi:h his cautious chief.' The former probably saw that the com manding General was anxious for the destruction of the enemy's c( munications, and suggested the means for accomplishing that end. 7 * Gen. Buell confirms this view in a private letter to the writer January 7, 1887. A Secret Military Raid in the West. 17 plan Buell accepted the more readily because it involved so little risk; that is, as Generals count risk, — only the life of a spy and eight' men; and General Mitchel, whose division was nearest the scene of the proposed enterprise, was instructed to furnish volunteers for the purpose. James J. Anuekws. Engraved from an old Ambrotype. From this point the expedition comes within the direct knowledge of the writer. As will be explained further on, I had seen Mr. Andrews previous- ' Gen. Buell says but six were authorized. In this he is probably mistaken, as eight were engaged. i8 Daring arid Suffering, ly, but did not know his real character. And there were also reasons why the 2nd Ohio Infantry of Sill's brigade, Mitchel's Division, should furnish all the men required, and Co. G. of that regiment, to which I belonged, one half the number. These and many other things will be made clear in the narrative of the second expedition to which this sketch is but introductory. The securing of volunteers was managed with the utmost secrecy. In addition to Generals Mitchel and Sill, a few of the officers of the 2nd Ohio were informed, in outline, of what was wanted, and they induced men to meet Mr. Andrews; these, after consulting with him, entered upon their strange and hazardous duties without opportunity to give the slight- est hint to their comrades. To the common soldiers of the regiment who were not selected, the whole affair was wrapped in mystery. Eight of our best men suddenly disappeared, and we knew not what had become of them. Numberless were the conjectures that floated through the camp and were discussed around the camp-fires. Some asserted that they had been sent northward to arrest deserters; others that they were deserters themselves ! But there were few deserters to arrest at this stage of the contest; and the latter idea was contradicted by the character of the men, who were among the boldest and most faithful in the whole regiment, and had been seen in close and seemingly confidential communication with officers just before their disappearance. The most frequent assertion — a pure conjecture, however, suggested by the fact that they were absent without any leave-taking, and that no inquiries were officially made about them, — was that they had turned spies. But this notion I did not seri- ously entertain, for sending such a number of spies from the private soldiers in the ranks of one company seemed absurd. At the most 1 sup- posed that they had gone on some scouting expedition or some attempt to surprise an enemy's post, such as we had been familiar with in Eastern Kentucky the year before. But I was not long left to my own conjectures. Indeed I had two reasons for urgent inquiries, one solely personal and not of a very exalted character, the other less selfish. My position in Co. G., James F. Sarratt, captain, was then that of first corporal, and I was looking anxiously for promotion to the next grade of non-commissioned officers, that of sergeant. To a civilian these petty grades seem utterly unimportant and almost undistinguishable, but they are not so to a soldier. On many a lonely guard line and dark night on picket, they make all the difference between commanding and being com- manded; and authority is sweet anywhere. A sergeant had died at Nash- ville, and his place would naturally become mine unless some one below me was considered more meritorious, in which case the captain had the authority to carry him, whether a lower corporal or only a private, over my head into the vacant sergeantcy. This would have been bitterly A Secret Military Raid in the West. 19 distasteful, not so much because of the increased wages and privileges of a sergeant, as because of the humiliation of being considered less worthy of promotion than a comrade, inferior in rank. One of the missing men happened to be second corporal, a splendid soldier in every respect, com- petent to fill any position in the company, and a great friend to the cap- tain. I had heard that he might be preferred to me, if for no other reason, because I was near-sighted. Now, some of the members of my army mess said: "Pittenger, when those men come back with feathers in their caps, the captain will be sure to make Surles sergeant." At the first opportunity I called Capt. Sarratt aside and told him what I had heard, and my own fears. He assured me, somewhat impatiently, that my rights should be cared for, and added, "Pittenger, this is a very little matter of yours. I only wish the men were back in the camp again. ^' "But where are they ? I asked, "and when will they be back? I would like to know something about it, especially for Mills's sake." '*I am not permitted to tell anything," he responded; "I don't know when they will be back myself, but I know that till they do come I can't sleep much.'* The look of weariness on his face smote to my heart, and in view of such anxiety my errand looked utterly contemptible. But my own un- easiness in another direction was greatly increased, and when I left him, with sincere apologies, it was with the resolve to find out where these men were. Captain David Mitchel of Co. K., 2nd Ohio, was an intimate friend of mine, and a distant relative of our commander. His company had sup- plied one of the missing adventurers, — my cousin, B. F. Mills, who had been my messmate during the three months service terminating with the battle of Bull Run. It was especially for his sake that I felt such solici- tude for the absent men, and this, even more than my own interest, had moved me to speak to Captain Sarratt. I resolved to make an attempt on Mitchel, with stronger hopes of success. The opportunity soon pre- sented itself. I was War Correspondent of the Steubenville Herald as well as soldier— the letters being intended principally to inform a wide circle at home of the welfare of sons and brothers. It was time to write again or there would be anxiety by many a fireside among the Ohio hills. Taking pencil and notebook I strayed through the level streets of the white-tented city that had suddenly sprung up in the level fields border- ing the clear and beautiful little Stone River. A congenial spot was found on the sloping bank of the stream and I sat down to write. It was in the afternoon of a beautiful day, and the bustle of the camp was all around, but not near. The warm sunshine and the rest were doubly grateful after the rain- 20 Daring and Suffering. storms and hard marches, knapsack laden, of the two preceding days. Occasionally I would look around to note the occupations of the soldiers, either in the camp, or strolling along the river. But I was especially attracted by the view presented a short distance down the stream, where stood the ruined fragments of a railroad-bridge that had been burned by the enemy a few days before. Now a large working force was engaged in putting the bridge in repair with all possible celerity, and our General was stimulating them by word and example. Large timbers were being hewed, framed, and slowly raised to their places. There was precision and speed such as I had never noticed before in similar work. The general himself seemed nervously eager, encouraging the willing workers, and heartily re- buking those who seemed inclined to shirk. Once I saw him precipitated with a splash into the shallow water, and to those who, like myself, were watching from the shoreward side, it seemed to be done purposely by a soldier whom Mitchel had hurried with a rotten piece of wood; but no sign of anger was manifested, and the General urged on the building as before. To a soldier who is "off duty" for a day, nothing is more enjoy- able than to see others work; and the whole afternoon realized to me the ideal life of the soldier. A comrade strolled along and I read to him my letter. It .was very boyish, intensely partisan, its attempts at wit not very striking, and its estimate of Fremont as a leader, and of the Union people in the South, not such as would have been made later; but as it may serve to show something of the feeling of the soldiers at that stage of the contest, a portion of it is here inserted; besides, it has a pathetic inter- est, for when it was printed and read by home-friends, the trivial hard- ships mentioned in it were forgotten, and the writer was in a situation desperate as imagination can paint; while those who read believed him to have perished on the scaffold ! LETTER TO THE STEUBENVILLE HERALD. MuRFREESBORO, Tenn., March 21, 1862. " Friend Allison : — Again we have made a move, and an important one. The divisions of Nelson and McCook started\)efore us, and no one knows where they are gone. But one thing is sure ; the northern frontier of the Gulf States, which has so long enjoyed immunity from the horrors of war, will soon hear the clash of arms, and the Union men of those States (if there are any) will have an opportunity of safely showing their devotion to the good cause. These movements are hopeful and of good omen. " On Tuesday last (i8th), we broke up our camp near Nashville, and with banners waving, and the sun shining brightly on the glittering muskets, we started over a smooth and level turnpike. There was only one drawback — we had so many stores to take with us that our wagons were filled, and mosc of the men had to carry their knapsacks. Transportation is abundant in this country, but our Generals are too generous and chivalric {vide Buckner) to use it. The rugged Fremont was not sufficiently versed in polite American warfare to prefer the convenience of citizen rebels to the comfort of his own soldiers. He would ride up to a house and demand the use of a driver and team for A Secret Military Raid in the West. 21 so many days, and at the expiration of that time, send them back. The result was that he was able to march twice as far as we do, and with less fatigue. But then, such a procedure might offend the "noble South," and when the Union is restored, they might refuse to hold office over us ! Whenever ive see a fine house, the ranks are straightened up and the band commences playing some patriotic air. Doubtless when the victorious march of our armies has carried a brass band past every house in the land of cotton, the inhabitants of that land, hearing the dulcet sound, will be moved to return to their rightful allegiance! " But seriously, the disgraceful subserviency to the South is carried by tactics to an unpardonable extent. Two negroes were sent by their masters to aid in the fortification of Nashville, but escaped to our troops. They were confined in the guard-house of our regiment to wait for their masters to claim them ! This is clearly against the act of Con- gress on that subject. " The first day was beautiful, the air warm, and the grass just beginning to show a faint sheet of green. The next day, however, was rainy and muddy. It was fairly pour- ing down when the tents were stmck, and everything got wet. It was a dreary morning march, with the rain running down the backs of our necks and splashing under our feet, wading through creeks or making long detours through the muddy fields to avoid standing pools of water. But after awhile, the sun shone out and dried our wet clothes. In the evening we halted, stiil eight miles from Murfreesboro', which we reached the next morn- ing through another rain. "We are now encamped here, 30 miles nearly directly south of Nashville, though we came much further around to avoid bridges the enemy had burnt. We will stay here till we have the bridges at this place repaired, then on southward. " Our camp here is a beautiful one, situated on a small river, and is very level. The country around looks to me to be healthful, and in fact the whole line of march south of our division leads throngh an eminently healthy district. This is fortunate, for the warm weather in the malarious and swampy regions of the Gulf States would be far more fatal than southern steel." * ^i- * * "WM. PITTENGER." I had scarcely finished reading when the opportunity I had longed for came. Captain Mitchel joined us and asked me what I had been writing to the papers — always a subject of interest among volunteers. I began to read the letter again, and the soldier, not wishing to hear it a second time, walked away. Every incident of this momentous interview is stamped indelibly on my memory. After the reading had been finished, we talked for a time on the prospects of the war, which seemed to us very favorable, and then I led the conversation to the subject that was upper- most in my thoughts — the destination of the men who had vanished from our miast. From the manner of my own captain and all other circum- stances, I was convinced that they were somewhere secretly within the enemy's lines, and in great danger. I induced Mitchel to accompany me to a more retired spot, and directly asked him to tell me where Mills and his companions were, saying that I knew they had gone south on a very adventurous expedition. He was startled at my positive assertion, and imagined that I possessed some direct information on the subject; but feeling that he could trust me, and saying that he was very uneasy about 22 Daring and Suffering. the matter himself, he gave the full information I had desired. Nothing I had ever heard so fired my imagination. The idea of a few disguised men suddenly seizing a train far within the enemy^s lines, cutting the telegraph wires, burning bridges, and leaving the foe in helpless rage behind, was the very sublimity and romance of war. How I wished that I was with them ! Of course I knew that any accident to the train, any premature discovery, or any failure of preconcerted plans, would mean death in its most repulsive form. But a soldier's business is to face death, and I had always been accustomed to look on the brighter side of everything, and was little troubled with forebodings or gloomy presenti- ments. The importance of burning bridges and destroying railroads was self-evident: and the thought of thus doing so much more for the country than a common soldier could accomplish in any other way was irresistibly attractive. While thinking over these things, I became silent, until aroused by Mitchel's asking me whether I thought they did right in letting the men enter on such risks. I gave my opinion strongly in the affirma- tive, providing only they were perfectly sure of the fidelity of Andrews, and of his competency to undertake such an enterprise. Of the first Mitchel had no doubt, and he assured me that his confidence was shared by all who were in the secret; but of the latter he could not judge, as such a thing had never before been tried by anybody. Mitchel. expressed anxiety almost equal to that of Sarratt, and further informed me that it was the expectation of this work being soon and successfully accomplished which made the General so anxious to have the bridge repaired, declaring that we would then march swiftly for Chattanooga, and get there ahead of the enemy. This was probably mere conjecture on his part, based upon considerations of sound military policy, which ought to have governed army movements, but might not influence Halleck and Buell. He was doubtless wrong as far as this first expedition was concerned, for it is sure that whatever hopes of ulterior results might have occupied the daring mind of Gen. Mitchel, his position at that time did not permit such a dash into the Confederacy. It would be necessary for him to get a new superior, or get more completely detached from Buell, before he would be able to achieve any great result. I was surprised, also, to learn that only the eight men from our own regiment were engaged. This seemed altogether disproportioned to the magnitude of tne enterprise; but of course a few could travel more safely through the enemy's country than a larger force. But it is probable that this number was selected, not because Andrews consid- ered it enough, but because it was all that Buell would grant. It was not enough to overcome a handful of train guards or drive away the weakest picket at a bridge. As Mitchel and I again walked down stream, the new bridge, rapidly A Secret Military Raid in the West. 23- rising out of the ruins of the old, took on a fresh interest. The work of destruction the enemy had wrought so frequently on our front was per- haps, at that very moment, being repaid upon them with interest, far in their rear; and the short rations and privations we had so often suffered from obstructed communications, were perhaps being brought home to them. The more I thought of it, the more attractive the enterprise look- ed. I was tired, like every other soldier, of the dull monotony of army life, especially under such a slow and unenterprising commander as Buell, and was also ambitious and patriotic. If it was possible to do more for the country by a little extra risk, I was more than willing to assume it. There was first a feeling of disappointment that I had been passed over in such a daring expedition, and then as I lay wakefully in the tent among my sleeping comrades, thinking over the strange revelations of the day, a resolution slowly took form which was to color all my after life. If any other expedition of that kind was sent out, I resolved that it should not be my fault if I did not accompany it ! In pursuance of this determination I went next morning to regimental headquarters, and told Col. L.A. Harris, who then commanded the 2nd Ohio, that I knew the nature and business on which some of his best soldiers had been sent into the South, and desired, if at any time there should be a call for men to go on such a dangerous and honorable enter- prise, that I might be chosen among them. - He was greatly surprised at the extent of my information, but did not undertake to deny my asser- tions. Maj. Anson G. McCook, since General, xVEember of Congress, and Secretary of the Senate, in whose company I had served during the first, brief enlistment of three months, was also present, and at once objected. He said some very kind things to the Colonel about me, and indeed, had always shown himself friendly; but now, whether he wished to hold me back from the risks, or really felt the force of the objection urged, he said he thought my extremely defective eyes would unfit me for sudden emer- gencies likely to arise in enterprises where each soldier is thrown on his own resources. I felt this objection keenly, for I had always been strug- gling to overcome the hindrances arising from this defect.which was indeed so great that I could not have been accepted as a soldier at all if there had been a strict examination like that of the regular army. But for any one to say that I could not see well enough to do a certain thing was sure to make me more anxious to do it; and I was greatly gratified to hear Col. Harris say that he could not agree with McCook; that wearing spectacles (as I did on all occasions) I looked so much like a school teacher and so little like a soldier that the Southerners would never sus- pect my true character. After some further conversation, and after trying in vain to find out how I came to know so much about a profound military secret, he gave me his promise that if any other men were sent beyond 24 Daring a?id Suffering. the enemy's lines, I should be the first one called on. I left him, well pleased with the result of the interview, and thus became, as it turned out afterward, the only volunteer, in the full sense of the word, that accom- panied the expedition. But I had no reason to expect that the next enter- prise, that on which I afterwards was called, would be at all like the one that had fired my imagination. The probabilities were that it would be some comparatively prosaic scout only a few miles from camp. Shortly afterwards the eight adventurers, a few at a time, came back to camp. Not a man had been lost, but the absence of the expected engi- neer had prevented success.^ When Andrews himself returned, which was a few days later, he report- ed only to Mitchel, and did not seek the headquarters of Buell, who was approaching Shiloh, nor, as far as can be ascertained, did he make him any written or telegraphic report. Whether he recognized in the bold, far- sighted subordinate, a kindred spirit, and desired to make all arrange- ments with him, rather than to be delayed and hamper/sd by the cold- blooded policy of Buell, or merely to save time, cannot now be surely known But it is certain that Buell knew nothing about the failure of the iirst attempt or the organization of a second expedition for more than a year afterward, and can have neither credit nor censure for anything at- tending it. For a full account of this first expedition see Chapter XXXVII. CHAPTER II. GEN. MITCHEL AND J. J. ANDREWS ARRANGE A SECOND RAID. \ NDREWS was undismayed by the failure of his Southern friend, and proposed making another attempt with a larger force, car- rying with him engineers and train hands from the Union army. It was never difficult to find men for every kind of work among the North- ern volunteers — a fact of which Gen. Mitchel had already made ample proof in repairing and operating railroads. When Andrews and Mitchel concerted the plans which were afterwards developed in the Chattanooga railroad expedition^ no witness was pres- ent. Their momentous interview was most probably held in MitcheTs tent at night, where there would be perfect security from interruption and with all accessible maps of the enemy's country spread out before them. Let us, in thought, lift the curtain of that tent, and entering, listen to their discussions, and thus get an idea of the whole military situation. The outlines of such a consultation are not purely ideal, for the commu- nications of Andrews, given to his comrades in many a confidential talk in the two months that followed after secresy ceased to be necessary, to- gether with the official records, and inferences from what was attempted and accomplished, will guide us with no small degree of probability to the very thoughts and plans that then occupied the minds of the two men. The interview took place either on Sabbath evening, April 6th, or before daylight on Monday morning, April 7th, 1862, — the very dates of the bat- tle of Shiloh or Pittsburg Landing. Gen. Mitchel was then in high spirits, for the obstacles which had so long delayed him at Murfreesboro had been overcome. He had built a bridge across Stone River at that point, from his own resources exclusively, in a period of time unexampled in the his- tory of the army. Gen. Buell, whose excessive caution and delay were far more dreaded by him than all the forces of the enemy, was far on the way to join Grant at Shiloh, where he would be ranked by Gen. Grant. It was reasonable to hope that the impetuosity and daring of the senior officer would more than compensate the chronic slowness of Buell. Mitchel himself was moving rapidly southward, and with the best division in the Western army — made such by his own tireless efforts — there was 26 Daring and Suffering, scarcely anything he dared not attempt. In a letter written home from Murfreesboro a few days before this, he had already expressed the hope that he might at no distant time direct his letters from Chattanooga! On every side the outlook of the Union armies was more hopeful than we, with the memory of the years of bloody struggle that followed, can easily realize. It should never be forgotten — though it often is by our historians — that there were virtually two civil wars; the opening contest fought by volunteers, and the second and final one between soldiers who did not fight purely of their own accord, but were brought into the field by the authority and force of their respective Governments. The first of these wars was now closing, and had been speedily determined in favor of the North. At the beginning there was almost equal enthusiasm; and the greater numbers and natural resources of the loyal volunteers was more than balanced by the better preparation and military organization, as well as by the superior determination, of the Confederates; but the very suc- cesses of the latter told against them in the long run. The great victory of Bull Run was no real advantage to the armies of the South; for while it wonderfully inflamed their enthusiasm, it begot such confidence that military efforts slackened; and during the novel (and therefore terrible) hardships of the first winter campaign, for which the Southern soldiers were but ill prepared, their armies gradually dwindled through sickness; volunteering almost ceased; and when the later successes of the Union armies became known, the common soldiers were discouraged and de- serted daily. The extent of this feeling is abundantliy' shown by Confed- erate reports, even when these try to put the best face on the matter. It is safe to say that on the first of April, 1862, the Confederates had not more than two hundred thousand effective troops in the field. But the leaders were fully determined to succeed or destroy the whole country. They were, indeed, so fully committed to the Southern cause, that they had no hope of mercy in case of Union victory; the wonderful clem- ency of the conquerors in the day of success being something that no one, loyal or disloyal, dreamed of. But they were not yet ready to abandon the struggle as hopeless. One weapon of tremendous power was within their reach — a weapon which the peculiar organization of Southern society made it easy to wield. The common people were illiterate and accus- tomed to follow their leaders, submitting often to measures which in the North would have been sternly resisted. So far as the institution of slav- ery was concerned, there had always been a reign of terror at the South-, and whenever that species of property was supposed to be endangered, all sanctions of law were overridden. The natural leaders of the people, the wealthy classes and the large slave-owners, were enthusiastic in the cause of secession. At the beginning of the war, they had no difficulty in pur- suading the poor to volunteer and fill the ranks, where they made effective Mitchel and Andreivs Arrange a Second Raid. 27 soldiers from the outset, rendering that obedience to their military supe- riors from life-long habit which Northern soldiers gained by hard and re- pulsive discipline. They themselves, being wealthier and more intelligent, made excellent officers, having the instinct of command and all the personal pride which is nurtured in an aristocratic state of society, and is a wonderful stimulus to bravery. The Southern troops were as brave and effective as any the world has known. But now that the spirit of vol- unteering had declined and the ranks were thinning, it remained to be seen whether the masses of the Southern people would submit to a whole- sale system of conscription — something which had no precedent in Amer- ican history. If not, they were lost. It was the last hope, and it was faithfully tried on a scale unparalleled in civilized history. A law was passed putting every effective man between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five — a limit afterwards greatly extended — into the army! In the North not much notice was taken of this gigantic measure; it was spoken of as the last refuge of desperation, a tacit confession of defeat; to escape it, many citizens, especially in the mountain districts of Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Alabama fled from their homes, and a few across the lines to the Union armies; but it was generally acquiesced in as necessary, although the scarcity of arms and proper officers made the organizing and calling forth of the million of men embraced in this terrible and far-reaching law a slow and tedious process. But the work did go on; volunteering became rapid, for it secured some privileges, and was the only way of*escaping the conscription; the drain upon the Southern armies from desertions and discharges almost ceased. Regiments whose terms of service expired, were not sent home, but held under the new law; and an able-bodied man in the South found that he must do one of three things: submit, and enter the Southern army; hide from relentless pursuit in the mountains, with the prospect of rebel prisons before him if cap- tured; or flee from home altogether to the Union armies. A feeling of desperate resolve gradually overspread the whole South — a feeling that everything was now staked on victory, and that for original Union men, as well as for secessionists, nothing remained but to fight on to the bitter end. From this conviction arose the dreadful conflict that follo^ved. But in April it was only beginning, and did not culminate for some months after. The North was affected by the battle of Bull Run and other early re- verses in a precisely opposite manner. There was enough of sorrow and disappointment, but no discouragement. On the contrary there was a feeling of grim determination. My own experience illustrates that of thousands. The first three months' term of enlistment expired a few days before the battle of Bull Run; and though I willingly remained with my comrades for the battle, yet I refused to re-enlist, as everything connected 28 Daring and Suffering. with a military life was distasteful; and I felt that there was now no great need of further services. But on the evening of that day, I resolved to re-enter the ranks for the war. All through the fall there was steady en- listment, and the work of recruiting did not flag for the whole winter,though no bounties were then given or promised except that of the old United States law, which few of the soldiers knew or cared about. By spring, at least five hundred thousand Union soldiers, better armed, equipped, and disciplined than the foe — outnumbering him more than two to one — were ranged along the border, and there was no point in the South that did not lie at their mercy, provided only that the advance was made at once^ before the Confederates could arm and array their million of conscripts. The victory of the Northern over the Southern volunteers was already assured, if no new elements entered into the struggle; and what we may term the first war closed in triumph for the Union arms. But when the remnant of the rebel volunteers was reinforced by the mass of those who were being impressed into the seYvice, and who in three months were as good sol- diers as any other, the war entered upon a new phase; and the victory was not won until the North, more than a year afterward, entered with slow and hesitating steps the same path of compulsory military service. But why should the conflict have been permitted to pass into this sec- ond stage ? Why not have pressed the great advantages then held so as to prevent the general enforcement of the conscription ? 0?i three me7i the responsibilities of thus prolonging the contest will mainly rest. Perhaps from another point of view, we might regard them as agents of Providence in continuing the conflict until all the resources of the South were called out and utterly exhausted, and that section thus made willing to submit to the final overthrow of slavery and re-organization on the basis of lib- erty. These three men were McClellan, Halleck, and Buell. . They had many traits in common. Each was opposed to interference with slavery, and wished to conduct the war in the kindest and most courteous manner. Each possessed decided talent for organizing and manoeuvering armies, talking much about lines of retreat, and bases of supply. Each over- estimated the armies opposed to him. There is no reason to suspect their loyalty and good faith, and in subordinate positions they might have ren^ dered valuable service to their country. Their plans were great and plaus- ible, but they moved slowly, requiring vast resources and perfectly drilled troops to execute them. By proper precautions and strategy, with suffi- 'cient force, they imagined that the element of risk and the necessity of desperate fighting might be eliminated. They each looked upon the war from the professional soldier's point of view, rather than that of the armed patriotic citizen, who wishes to finish a dreadful but necessary business, and return to h^s home But in their strong qualities they were less alike. Mitchel and Andrews Arrange a Second Raid. 29 McClellan excelled in supplying an army, perfecting its organization, in elaborate reviews, and in securing the enthusiastic devotion of his soldiers. Buell understood well the lines of advance for his own troops and the enemy, and could so well guard every possible approach that he was never surprised. Halleck could clearly see the vital points of a military situa- tion, could embrace in one view the most complicated details, was of tire- less industry, compelled his subordinates to clerical exactness, and, when commander-in-chief, could tell at a moment's notice where every regiment in the army was stationed. What magniucent service these men could have rendered to their country if they had only been real warriors! Each of the two Western generals possessed a subordinate with all the qualities he himself lacked. Halleck sent Grant forward, who achieved brilliant successes, until the arrival of his chief cn the field at Corinth, after which he was held in check for many months; Mitchel was fettered by Buell, until fortunately he was so far separated from his chief as to get a little liberty of action at the period our story opens. But it is difficult to repress a feeling of indignation even now at the manner in which these commanders, who looked upon war as a purely professional game to be played regularly and leisurely to the end, caused the auspicious hour, in svhich success was almost a matter of certainty, to be lost. McClellan held all the Eastern army inert for more than a month before Yorktown, during which time the rebels were enforcing the conscription with iron hand in every hamlet in the South, and hurrying the troops forward to ultimately beat him; Buell left Grant unsupported to fight the concen- trated forces of the enemy at Fort Donelson, and to come near total de- feat in the first day's battle at Shiloh; while Halleck gathered every avail- able man in the West and held them before Corinth in overwhelming array with orders to his corps commanders to retreat at any point rather than to bring on a battle! By the end of this period of inaction, the enemy was able to meet our armies on something like equal terms. But all this while we have left Andrews and Mitchel alone in the tent of the latter. That they both knew to a greater or less degree of the considerations we have sketched,so far as they relate to events then passed, or the existing situation, is more than probable. Andrews had penetrated often into the South, and while he had a high personal regard for Buell and always spoke of him kindly, the daring nature of his own plans and the consequences he expected to flow from them, shows that he had no sym- pathy with the policy of delay. Mitchel was as fully informed of all war topics as any person outside the war department could be. He was indeed a man of whom it is diffi- cult to speak too highly, and if he had possessed the rank and opportu- nities of one of the great generals we have mentioned, the story of the war would certainly have been different. His fame as a man of original gen- 30 Daring and Suffering. ius — as astronomer, mechanician, inventor, and civil engineer — was well established before the war began. He was the better prepared for his duties because he had graduated at West Point, and served a short time as professor there, before making so bright a mark in civil life. When the war broke out he had been appointed first to superintend the fortifi- cation of Cincinnati, which was soon finished; and he then obtained per- mission to raise troops for the deliverance of East Tennessee, always a favorite object with him; but military etiquette interfered with his march across Kentucky, which was in another General's department, and the scheme was abandoned. He was then assigned to the command of a divi- sion, and had brought it to the highest state of efficiency. He knew so weU the state of the South that he felt willing to trust himself anywhere in the •enemy's country with that division alone. He lingered with Buell a long time in front of Louisville, and writes home with the delight of a boy let out of school when once the order to advance is given; he almost drags Buell on to Nashville, offering to become responsible with his head for the issue of the events if the permission to go forward is only given; over- comes obstacles such as rivers, obstructed roads, and burnt bridges with Gen. O. M. Mitchel. From a photograph furnished by his son, F. A. Mitchel, Esq. Mitchel a7id Andrews Arrange a Second Raid. 31 an ease born of thorough knowledge and boundless energy. At length he is detached, with his own division only, from the army of Buell, and given a very humble task — that of taking such a position as would best protect Nashville from an advance by the enemy (who had just as much thought at that time of going to the moon as returning to Nasnville!) But this gave him latitude enough, for as long as he kept the enemy before him Nashville was fully protected, and he at once began that advance which is one of the most brilliant campaigns of the war. He had now reached Shelbyville, and was on tne eve of a movement still further into the South. It should be remembered by those who would fully understand the events that followed, that Mitchel was in no sense a heedless adventurer. On the contrary he was watchful and alert to the highest degree Every regiment of his division had been taught vigilance by the most energetic effort. I remember an experience of this kind that left an indelible impression on the 2nd Ohio. It occurred soon after Mitchel had as^ sumed command, but was by no means solitary. In camp at Bacon Creek, Ky., on a very dark and stormy winter night, the guard was placed .-^is usual, but along about two or three o'clock had grown careless — more anxious to find shelter than to note everything that was stirring. Sud-> denly those of us who were '* off duty received a startling surprise. The men on watch had permitted somebody to come up to our post unchal lenged, and we knew nothing of it until this person was in our midst, seiz- ing the soldiers in no gentle manner by arm and collar, and shaking them, or tumbling them out of the guard tent, as he exclaimed, "Why don't you turn out the guard ?" Some of the soldiers were for resisting, but all were submissive enough when the word passed around. " It's old Mitchel himselfl" We were very soon in our places and then we listened to a lecture, as we stood in the rain, 7iot on the subject of astronomy! When the General was gone the soldiers grumbled and wished they had an officer *' who had not studied the stars so long that he could not sleep at night himself and would not let any body else sleep !" but we resolved not to be caught in the same way again; and we never were ! We now knew in our division that the only way to get along in peace with our commander was to faithfully perform every part of military duty. We exercised the sol- dier's prerogative in grumbling, but we loved and trusted him, for all that, and would have followed him to Mobile or Savannah without hesitation, assured that he would have carried safely through whatever he undertook. While Andrews and Mitchel considered the advisability of another at- tempt upon the enemy's communications, there is one point they cannot nave failed to understand. Any new enterprise must be on the authority of Mitchel. The original instruction given nearly a month before, to furnish eight men (or six), could have had no binding force now when cir- cumstances were totally differegpi|^°T^^^urpose Buell had in view was 32 Daring and Suffering. no longer of value. East Tennessee, as Andrews well knew and would not fail to report to Mitchel, was almost completely denuded of troops. Indeed, Mitchel never was haunted by the spectre of a vast rebel army such as continually rose before Buell. No men or arms could be sent from that department either to reinforce Corinth or to attack Nashville, The body of troops gathering at Big Shanty, a few miles north of Atlanta, could just as well be forwarded by way of Mobile. And most conclusive of all, Mitchel intended to move immediately on the line of road from Decatur to Bridgeport, and expected — an expectation fully realized — to have his whole division there within a week. Then he would be able to burn the bridges west of Chattanooga himself, if he did not rather wish to preserve them for his own use. Why did not Mitchel say in view of the situation: Mr. Andrews, I give you credit for penetrating to the heart of the enemy's country, even if you did not accomplish what you intended, which, indeed, would be of no value now; and I am thankful for the information you have gained as to the enemy's condition so far within his lines, and especially for bringing back every one of my soldiers in safety; now you may return to Buell and report that there is no further work of the kind he sent you here to do; or, if you prefer, I will gladly have your services as an ordinary spy." Why did Mitchel not say this, and terminate the conference? Why not indeed, save that he saw a glittering prize before him which Andrews could help him to win — nothing less than the possession of Chattanooga and Knoxville, with all of East Tennessee, thus stabbing the rebellion to the heart, while its right and left hands — the armies of Beauregard and Joe Johnston — were held fast at Corinth and Richmond.' The absolutely conclusive proof that Mitchel wanted Andrews to burn the bridges south of Chattanooga is found not merely in the statement of the survivors of the expedition, but in MitchePs own letters and des- patches. There were but two persons present at the conference at which their plans were arranged, and neither of these seems in advance of the performance to have hinted his designs to any persons save so far as was necessary to allow the soldiers who were to accompany Andrews to be in- telligently chosen. But on the very day when Andrews captured the train, Mitchel was careful to mislead the enemy so that he might not destroy the great bridge over the Tennessee, and then declares in letters to Buell (and S. P. Chase, ^ Secretary of the Treasury), that he did so in the hope that he might be permitted to march on Chattanooga and Knoxville. Whether in the case of Andrews completely accomplishing his share of > See Chap. XLII. for further discussion with Gen, Buell and Gen. Fry o£ Mitchel' s purpose. * War Records. Series I. Vol. X. Part 2. Page 115. Mitchel and Andrews Arrange a Second Raid, 33 the work, Mitchel could have carried out this hope, may be judged from what follows. It will be enough to assert here that he thought he could, and that the enemy fully shared his belief. Let us examine the position of Chattanooga as it lay before these twO' men, on whose conference hung great issues and so many lives; for Mit- chel then revealed to Andrews more of his plans than to any other person, even his own staff officers. Chattanooga was a mere village in 1862, and was little more than one hundred miles distant m a direct line, but separated from them by almost roadless mountains and formidable streams. By aid of the sketch map facing Chapter I. we may form an idea of the central location of this mountain stronghold and grand strategic position, and thus be enabled to< judge whether its capture would have been possible, and whether it would have been of any advantage to the Union arms. If both these questions, are answered in the affirmative, and the further admission made that the burning of bridges on the Georgia State railroad would have materially contributed to that end, it will dispose of the question whether Andrews and his men imperiled their lives in a mere aimless raid, or whether as the Confederate newspapers and the United States official authorities declare, it was ** planned by genius" and absolutely sublime." Andrews could at this time give Mitchel positive information that Chat- tanooga was denuded of troops, and that the surrounding country for a long distance, more than a hundred miles in every direction, was in the same condition. No recruits could be raised there for the Confederate army at that time. The commander, E. Kirby Smith, under date of March 13th, reports' " East Tennessee is an enemy's country; its people beyond the influence of our troops and in open rebellion/* The occupa- tion of Chattanooga in force by the Federals would have gone like an electric shock through all this region, and a mountain territory inhabit- ed by more than a million people, comprising East Tennessee, Western North Carolina, and Northern Alabama and Georgia, as loyal as Pennsyl- vania or Ohio, would have soon given fifty thousand men to the Union cause. Their fear and hatred of the rebellion would have induced them to put fortn every possible effort for self-preservation. But could not reinforcements be sent to a great railroad centre like Chattanooga with speed enough to fortify and hold it against every effort of Mitchel's slen- der force ? Just in answering this question was the vast value that Mitchel saw in the new Andrews raid; no longer needed to carry out BuelPs design of preventing the enemy's advance toward Nashville, it would be of simply inestimable value if it could, for three or four days even, isolate Chatta- nooga from its Southern and Eastern connections. Mitchel had already per- * War Records. Series I. Vol. X, Part 2. Page 320. 34 Daring and Suffering. mission to go, it ne could see his way perfectly clear, to Huntsville; this he •extended on his own responsibility seventy miles further to Stevenson; and if the way was open by rail, he could as well push on to Chattanooga. No reinforcements could be sent against him from the direction of Knox- ville and East Tennessee, for in addition to the fact that any withdrawal of the forces there would have been followed by an uprising of the op- pressed mountaineers, and a destruction of the railroad in the mountain defiles, the Union Gen. Morgan was before Cumberland Gap, ready with a superior force to press toward Knoxville if there was the slightest indi- cation of the weakening of his opponents. Besides, a large bridge of the East Tennessee railroad spanned Chickamauga creek near the junction with the Georgia State road, ten miles from Chattanooga, and this would also be destroyed by Andrews. One railroad only was formidable, that lead- ing to Atlanta. Undrilled troops, badly armed but enthusiastic, could be ibrought from there in a single day, and in two or three days considerable ibodies of well-drilled and completely equipped men from Savannah or Charleston. Had the Andrews' party destroyed the bridges on this road and the East Tennessee bridge over the Chickamauga on the day the train was seized, I have no doubt that Chattanooga would have been under the old flag before the next day's sun went down. Then the fall of Knoxville and the opening of communications with Gen. Morgan would have fol- lowed as a necessary sequence. Communication was the third day actu- ally opened with Halleck and Buell on the West; so if this one contin- gency had occurred, the whole line of railroad from Corinth to Knoxville, an extent of nearly three hundred miles, would have been occupied by four armies in perfect connection — those of Grant, Buell, Mitchel, and Morgan — a grand total, including their reserves at Nashville and on the inarch of 150,000 choice troops, opposed to less than 70,000 scattered, isolated, and discouraged rebels! what effect such an achievement would have had on public sentiment at the North, on the promotion of General Mitchel, and the future of the war, are topics not necessary here to dwell upon. But such considerations go far to justify Judge-Advocate-General Holt's opinion, " that the whole aspect of the war in the South-west would have been at once changed." The editor of the Atlanta *' Southern Con- federacy," well knowing the critical position of Confederate affairs, and the defenseless condition of Chattanooga at this time, wrote the following in his paper of April 15th, 1862: "The most darings scheme that this revolution has developed has been thwarted; and the tremendous results which, if successful, can scarcely be imagined, much less de- 5>cribed, have been averted. Had they succeeded in burning the bridges, the enemy at Huntsville would have occupied Chattanooga before Sunday night. Yesterday (Monday) they would have been in Knoxville, and thus have had possession of all East Tennessee. Our forces at Knoxville, Greenville and Cumberland Gap would, ere this, have been in the hands of the enemy." Mitchel and Andrews Arrange a Second Raid. 35 All this may sound wildly extravagant, but the one solid military ad- vantage, not far off or contingent, that determined Mitchel to risk the lives of twenty-four picked men in a desperate enterprise, was that the burning of those bridges would render the capture of Chattanooga per- fectly practicable with Mitchel's force, and would have given abundant time for his reinforcement, even if such reinforcement had to be given by orders directly from Washington. How long Andrews and Mitchel were in reaching such a conclusion — how many maps they turned over together, or if they had more than one interview during the less than twenty-four hours that intervened between Andrews's return to camp and his setting forth at the head of a new and enlarged expedition upon his terrible work — is not certain. The interview we have supposed must have been held at night, for Andrews reached camp after dark on the evening of the 6th, or before the morning light of the 7th, and the same morning all was arranged, and the work of selecting the adventurers begun. In this short time Andrews ceased to be the agent of Buell, and came under the orders of Mitchel, the force at his disposal was trebled, his plan of operations was substantially changed, and he was ready to select his men and set forth. Such promptitude is almost: bewildering, especially to one accustomed to the proceedings of such soldiers (with one or two exceptions) as had hitherto controlled the American armies; but the whole of the Huntsville campaign of Gen. Mitchel is of the same character. CHAPTER III. SELECTION OF ENGINEERS AND SOLDIERS. ON Monday night, April 7th, 1862, orders were sent in regular mil. tary cl^annels to the Colonels of the three Ohio regiments of Sill'i brigade to have a man from each company selected for special and hazardous service. Each colonel called a meeting of captains, anc getting a general idea of the nature of the work required, each captair selected a man judged to be best adapted for it, and, returning to his own company, either gave him personal notice or sent him up to his colonel's quarters for instruc- tions. None of the members of the first expedition, who were all of the 2nd Ohio, would volun- teer again. The romance con- nected with such an undertaking had vanished when they found themselves face to face with the terrible risks involved. The meeting of officers ar- ranged as to the manner of fur^ nishing engineers and firemen, and, as these would be available in other work, a liberal allowance was made. Three of those detailed W,.soN W. Brown, Engineer. From a war-time pho- SUCCCeded in getting thrOUgh the ^'^sr^p^- lines. Two of the men. Brown and Knight, were from the 21st Ohio. That whole regiment was called into line, and the statement publicly made that men who could run engines were wanted for detailed service; and any who had experience in that line were asked to step two paces to the front. Brown thus describes what followed. " The Colonel ordered me to report to his headquarters for instructions ; when I did. he told me that there was a secret raid being organized to penetrate into the South to burn bridges, and that, to complete the work, a locomotive would have to be captured ; h«, Selection of Engineers and Soldiers, 37 added that I had been selected to run this locomotive, though, to ^ard against all con tingencies, two other engineers would be along to take my place if anything happened to me. After giving me some advice he ordered me to report to Gen. Mitchel in person. 1 did so, and handed the General a note from the Colonel, which he read, and remained silent for a moment. Then he said, * This is a dangerous mission you are going on, and the utmost caution will be necessary on the part of all of you.' He next questioned me as to my competency to run an engine. (This work Mitchel well understood.) I an- swered all his questions, and he then asked me if I had any papers to show. I drew from my pocket a paper signed by the master mechanic of the Mobile and Ohio railroad, on which I had run in i860, a year before the War, and other papers from other roads on which I had been employed. He carefully read them all and said that they were sufficient on that point, adding, ' On you rests a great responsibility. You are the first engineer selected to take charge of the engine, but there will be a reserve of two others from the other regiments.' I was about to leave him when a sudden impulse led me to say, ' Gen- eral, I would very much like to ask you two questions about this expedition, if you will permit me.' He very frankly said, ' You are at perfect liberty to ask any question bear- ing on this matter." Then I said, 'What is the object of this raid?' He answered, ' To destroy the bridges over one of the main lines of the enemy's communications. It will go far to separate their armies, and put them at our mercy.' I said, ' But what do you think of our chances cf success?' 'That depends upon circumstances,' he replied; ' if the enterprise can be carried out as planned by Mr. Andrews, I think the chances are very good indeed; but if any delay happens, the difficulty will be increased.' I asked, 'Why so, General?' 'He answered, 'Because as the armies draw nearer, the roads will be more occupied with troops and stores moving back and forth, and these will be in your way.' sThen again pausing for a minute, he continued, 'Your mission is very haz- ardous. It is not pleasant forme to send such a number of picked men into the enemy's power ; but in war great risks must be run, and we are engaged in a war of right and wrong; aipaed treason must be met and conquered ; and if you fall, you die in a glorious cause ; I have great confidence in Mr. Andrews, your leader ; I trust that the great ruler of the destinies of man will protect you all ! ' He grasped my hand and terminated the inter- view. I never saw him again ! " The other engineer describes the manner of his detail very picturesque- ly. There was always a little emulation between Brown and Knight as to which was chief and which assistant engineer. One seems to have had his appointment directly from Mitchel and the other from Andrews; but they were inseparable companions and always worked in harmony. Knight had been a long time in subordinate positions on the Pittsburg and Fort Wayne road and served three years as engineer on the old Pan Handle route. He says: " Captain Brewster reported my name to the meeting at the Twenty-first head- quarters as the man from his company. We were next called out as a regiment on parade shf "rtly aft. r dinner, and while on the ground, the Colonel made a call, that if there were any engineers in the regiment capable of running a locomotive, they should step two paces in advance. I stepped out thinking that I was going to get some soft snap, such as running a srivv or grist mill; but it turned out not to be so very soft. lie told me to report to headquarters immediately after being dismissed. The captain offered to go along, and give me an introduction ; on the way he told me the first I knew of the expedition, and that my name was already in as one of the men, but said I could use my own judgment 38 Daring and Suffering, William Knight, Engineer. From a war-time pho- tograph. about going. I said I would go, and he introduced me as the man he had for that expe- dition, and also as having stepped out as an engineer. I was presented to Andrews, who was there, and he asked me if I considered myself competent to take charge of an en- gine. I said that I was perfectly compe- tent, and showed my papers. He had his maps of the country spread out on the Colonel's table, and showed me on the map where I was at that time, and where he wanted me to go. It looked much better on paper than I afterwards found it on land. Andrews also told me that I would have to take off my uniform and put on citizen's clothes. He stated that if we were caught in the enemy's lines, and they knew us, we would be treated as spies. The Colonel then gave me a pass to go down and procure clothing, saying to take nothing in my pockets that would give me away, if captured ; but told me if I was captured to get out by enlisting in the Southern army or any way I could, and it would be considered honorable when I got back. I went to town, bought clothes, got supper at the hotel, and started ou/P the road by myself as he told me. Before I got outside the lines I fell in with two others, but as the party were all strangers, I cannot say who they were." Capt. Sarratt was not asked to select any man. He had long been fretting over the four engaged in the former attempt, and told Andrews, with some satisfaction, that he would not al- low any of his boys to go a second time: but his surprise was great when he was simply re- quired to "inform Corporal Pittenger, that he is selected as the man from your com- pany." He did not then learn the reason for what may have seemed to him a strange choice, but probably attributed it to Maj. McCook, under whom I had formerly served. He was not kept long in the dark. While I was busily engaged in my own tent, I was notified that Captain Sarratt was looking for me. Going out into the com- pany street — for the hundred men in a company lodge usually in two lines of tents facing each other at a short interval, which Capt. Jas. f. Sarratt. IS the place where the company forms in line for roll-call and other duties; and directly across the end of this street, stands the tent of the officers. Selection of Engineers and Soldiers. 39 into which common soldiers do not enter uninvited — I met Sarratt and accompanied him to the officers' tent, where he informed me that CoL Harris had just told him that I was to go with Andrews down into Georgia. He said further — what I knew perfectly well — that a soldier is under no obligations to go on such an enterprise, and himself went to the questionable extent of advising me not to go. This was really a breach of strict discipline; but the depth of his solicitude overbore all other considerations. He urged all the motives, that seemed likely to have weight with me, saying that he had enjoyed nO' peace while the other men were out of camp, and that he was greatly re- lieved by their return, but if I went it would be as bad as ever. His solicitude affected me greatly, and I somewhat reluctantly informed him. that I had already volunteered, and that all was settled. He still urged me to draw back, only yielding when he found the task hopeless. After quite a lengthened interview with my kind-hearted captain, who treated me as a brother rather than a subordinate, he wrote me out a pass, that I might go to Shelbyville, a mile distant, and purchase supplies needed for the expedition. He also told me that I would probably see Andrews there, and advised me to question him closely, and if he did not perfectly satisfy me as to what he purposed, to return, without hesi- tation, to camp. This I promised, but I expected to be satisfied; then I took my leave, promising to come and say " Good bye," before leaving the camp. With a throbbing heart and with suppressed excitement I again walked oetween the lines of tents looking wistfully upon the old familiar scenes. It might be that this was the last day of my army life. The preceding day, which was the Sabbath, had brought with it a kind of dim melancholy presentiment as if some great change was impending. There had been nothing in the day itself to make one gloomy, for its quietness, with its warm spring beauty, the greenness of the grass, and the brightness of the sun, are deeply pictured in my mind, and I had devoted the day to writ- ing to friends, with the faint impression that I might not soon again have the opportunity. It is a little singular that the next letter I wrote months after that day went to Jefferson Davis, President of the Southern Con- federacy, on a matter of life and death to myself and comrades ! This Monday also was very quiet, for Mitchel had allowed two days of rest and preparation before the exhausting effort of his next dash into the heart of the rebel territory. My comrades, as I walked down the street, were sitting listlessly around tiie openings of their tents, scouring arms and accoutrements, playing games., telling stories in little groups, or lazily sleeping either within the tents or in the shade ju5-.t outside, i paced along slowly, observing every object with a kmd of languid atten- 40 Daring and Suffering, tion, and almost unnoticed, for no word of our expedition had as yet reached the common soldiers. A few only asked me to stop and play a game with them; but I answered that I could not as I was going to town. Some of them called back, "Get us a pass and we will go with you" — an offer that seldom failed to be made in good faith to any one who had the great luxury of permission to leave camp. I soon overtook a friend journeying the same way, and had the pleasure of his company to town; but as he was also from Co. G., I knew he could not be enlisted in the new enterprise; so while I enjoyed walking with him around the pleasant little town of Shelbyville, keeping my eyes open for Andrews, I could not talk with him on the subject that filled my mind. I got rid of him as soon as convenient and began to inquire for clothing; others were on the same quest, and as the town only contained two or three stores where such articles could be bought, the proprietors mu^ have wondered to see the Yankees taking such a sudden liking to their goods. I did not find a full suit to my taste, but knew that I could easily supply the deficiency in camp. Among those who were purchasing I noticed with pleasure, Marion Ross, Sergeant Major of the 2nd Ohio. I put a few cautious questions to him and answered as many in return, when we both became convinced that we were on the same errand. This was a pleasure, as I now had an acquaintance in the first stages of the ex- pedition, for, singular as it may seem, I had far more anxiety about being able to find Andrews and get out of the camp in the right direction, than about any of the dangers that lay further on. Our first business was to find him, and learn what steps were next to be taken. Why Andrews had adopted such an indefinite manner of receiving the report of the men who had been assigned to him, I do not know. Probably he wanted to scrutinize carefully those who were searching for him, and notice the man- ner of their inquiries and approach before becoming committed to them. No such purpose could be accomplished in the case of Ross and myself, as we both had known him before, and his meditative air as well as im- pressive personal appearance, made him a man impossible to forget. Accordingly we recognized him at once as we saw him coming out of a store, and, gaining his side, we told him that we were to report to him. Andrews was now in the prime of manhood, being about 33 years of age, six feet in height, a little stooped when not excited, weighing 180 or 190 pounds, with strong and regular features, very clear complexion, an eye dark gray and penetrating, very abundant black hair, and a fine loni; silken beard slightly waved. In manners and address he was the ideal southern gentleman. He gave to every one the impression of gentleness and strength. His voice was very soft and musical, almost effemniaie, never strong, yet with distinctness and firmness of tone which made it well suit the man. His striking personal qualities added very much to his nower Selection of Engineers and Soldiers, 41 He looked at us sharply for a moment, and asked us what we were to report to him for. We answered that that was the very thing we came to learn. He inquired our names, rank, company, and regiment. A few other questions and answers followed, when being satisfied, he told us that he could not safely say much to us in so public a place, but that he would be a mile or two out of Shelbyville on the Wartrace road shortly after dark, and if we met him then, he would give us full information. His manner was that of one who did not care very much whether we came to the place or not. I have since thought that this plan of appoint- ing two different rendezvous, the one in the village and the other out in the country, and both of so indefi- nite a character that a person might well have failed to find him in either, was intended to make it easy for any who had misgivings to draw back altogether. There were some variations in the mode of selection. Porter went to the headquarters of the 2 1 St and there found one or two others with Andrews. The latter entered with some detail upon the plan of his operations — showed a map of the country and pointed out the road over which they were to pass and the bridges that were to be burned. Porter remembers that these bridges were between Atlanta and Chattanooga. They were then shown what they were in iividually to do, and ordered, if willing to enter on the work, to report at the night rendezvous on the road from Shelbyville to Wartrace. The sun was shining brightly and the bracing evening air sent the blood coursing cheerily through our veins as Ross and I walked leisurely back to camp. We said nothing to each other of our motives in entering on such an expedition, though I was a good deal surprised to find Ross engaged in it. He was of sentimental character, very fastidious, neat and almost dandyish in dress, fond of parades, and generally of the pomp and glitter of war, and was often teased for these qualities. He could not fail to suffer greatly from the unavoidable discomforts of such a trip as ours, even if we were perfectly successful. But we did talk of the impressions formed of our leader. Ross requested me— with, as I thought, a shade of anxiety in l:'s tone— to give my real opinion of Andrews. I answered Marion Ross. From a war-time photograph. 42 Daring and Suffering, with enthusiasm. The strong influence this singular man never failed to exert over those who were brought into contact with him, was already at work. His thoughtful, pensive manner, his soft mild voice, not louder than a woman's, yet with every accent firm and decided, his grace, refine- ment and dignity, made me at once declare him to be far above the ordi- nary type of manhood. He did, however, seem more like a dreamer, a poei, or a martyr, than a military leader or dauntless adventurer, yet there was something of each of these in his composition. I would have trusted him to the end of the earth ! Ross expressed a similar opinion, and yet along with it a fear that possibly Andrews had now undertaken more than he could carry through. However we did not pursue that thought far, for neither of us knew definitely what he did propose, and felt a strong curiosity for the fuller revelation the night promised. On nearing our tents we parted to make our separate arrangements. I found that a marked change had taken place in the camp. Listlessness had given place to curiosity. Several soldiers, I was told, had arrayed themselves in citizen's dress and left the regiment. I did not stop to hear conjectures about this, but hurried to the tent of one of the number who had been out with Andrews before, and from him borrowed the articles of clothing needed to complete my outfit. These were never returned ! Then I took off the army blue which I had worn so long, and of which I was so proud, carefully folded it in my knapsack, and getting all my arms and equipments in order, left directions with some of my tent-mates to have them turned over to the proper authorities. I might have spared this trouble, as far as I was personally concerned, for all were lost in the terrible battles and marches that followed. When I was divested of every trace of the army, and clad only in the plain garb of every-day life, I stepped out into the company street. My changed appearance caused a sensation at once. The word was passed from tent to tent, and soon all that were not on guard or otherwise out of reach, came around me and began to shower questions faster than a dozen men could have answered. " Pittenger, got a furlough ? Got a discharge ? Going home? Going out as a spy '^ — these are a few specimens only. My appearance confirmed the impression that I heard expressed by a hundred voices: "There's something up!" I did not care to contradict this natural inference, and answering all questions at random, I hurried across the line of tents to the adjoining company, and passing at once to the tent that sheltered my cousin. Mills, who was on the former expedition, I lifted the flap and went quickly in, for this company was also in a state of ferment. Mills, who was uneducated, but very shrewd, asked no questions, as he understood the hubbub outside and my own transformi- tion. He said, with an expression of strong disapproval, not far removed from contempt, Selection of Engineers and Soldiers, 43 " So ! you are going with Andrews." I assented, and then told him that my errand to hi^m nov/ was to borrow his revolver — he had a very fine one. He freely gave the weapon, but added the opinion that if I knew when I was well off, I would stay in camp, closing with the candid words: " Be- cause I was fool enough to go with Andrews, it does not follow that you need be." When cartridges had been liberally supplied with the revolver, 1 had everything needed for starting, and it was nearly time to be off. This was to be the final farewell to the camp until the great effort had been made. I had not the slightest notion of trying to recede, even if it had then been possible without disgrace; but a sense of solemnity and awe, a kind of shadow over the inward landscape, was very distinctly felt. I resolved not to try to steal away as the first party had done, though that was the right thing for them to do; but now their report to their comrades, and the excitement caused by seeing the adventurers arrayed in citizen's dress, rendered it impossible to conceal the fact that we were leaving the camp for some kind of perilous enterprise, and there was no harm in the luxury of saying farewell. First I went to headquarters and took Cap- tain Sarratt once more by the hand; he could scarcely say a word, and all his accustomed jests were silenced. I long remembered his troubled, half- reproachful look. Then I wrung the hands of all my old comrades as for the last time I walked down the company street. I had tramped with them over Kentucky and the half of Tennessee; had stood guard on many a dark and wintry night; had slept by their side in the open air when our heads were whitened with frost; had floated with them down a mountain stream on rafts and logs; and it was not easy to leave them, for most of them did not expect to see me again, and I half feared they were right. Some of them did their best to even yet have me give up the journey, but most realized that I had gone too far. Alexander Mills was especially devoted. He was a cousin (and also of B. F. Mills), and from the day of enlistment had been my inseparable companion. So close was our con- fidence that the only thing in army life I ever kept from him was my desire to go on this expedition. He was determined to keep me back or to go along. Failing in the first he tried the latter, though he had been some time seriously sick with fever. Receiving no encouragement from Captain Sarratt, he hurried up to the Colonel's (quarters and pleaded to be permitted to go along so importunately that Col^ Harris not only refused but threatened to have him arrested if he tried to leave camp without per- mission. Then he came back and said **Good bye" with tears on his cheeks. He was refused only because of sickness, for he was efficient iii every duty: but in the troubles that speedily came, I would have been sorry to have had him share the hardship and danger, great as the com- 44 Daring and Suffering. fort of his presence would have been. Alas ! he now lies buried near the top of a beautiful hill in the National Cemetery at Chattanooga, shot while bravely carrying the 2nd Ohio colors in the storming of Missionary Ridge, eighteen months later — the very battle which assured possession of that town toward which our thoughts and efforts were now turned. CHAPTER IV. DEPARTURE AT NIGHT. WHEN the painful parting from comrades in camp was over, I looked up Sergeant Ross, and we returned to Shelbyville. It was still early, and for an hour or two we lingered around the stores and street corners. Several persons had been seen that we thought belonged to our party, but we did not like to take the risk of ascertaining, espec- ially as all of us would soon meet. We made sure of the road to War- trace — a small village almost due east from Shelbyville, situated at a railroad junction where a branch leaves the main Chattanooga and Nashville line for Shelbyville. Then leaving town we continued along the road until the twilight had nearly faded, leaving us only the light of the new moon, which hung low in the west. Our pace was slow, for we had only about a mile to journey, and as no espe- cial place was appointed for the rendezvous, we had nothing to do but look for Andrews and our comrades. Several persons were met, but they were going toward Shelbyville. We ventured to accost some of these, but could get no re- port of any travellers ahead. It was perplexing to be so long alone, and we looked most anxiously for others of the party. Seeing a house a few yards from the road we climbed over the post and rail fence — there was no gate visible— and went up to the door to get a drink of water and learn how far we were from Shelbyville. Before we came up to the house, however, a dog darted from some place of conceal- ment and bit my friend on the leg, and was instantly back into the dark- ness. It was only a trifling bite, about which I laughed; but when we turned to go, after completing our inquiries, the same dog came upon us once more. Ross was on his guard and leaped over the fence, but I William Pittenger. Before the war. 46 Daring and Suffering, stopped on top of it and laughed at his hurry. The dog sprang at me, and was just able to reach the skirt of my coat, which he seized, tearing a large piece out of it. That coat, thus «/rtailed, I was obliged to wear for nearly a year, and over a large part of the Southern States ! Ross fired at the dog just as he hung by the coat, but in the darkness the aim was uncertain, and he disappeared as suddenly as he came. A superstitious person might look on this trivial incident as an omen of the result of our enterprise, which proved disastrous to me and fatal to my companion. We now proceeded on our way, but felt no small degree of anxiety. We were not in any danger, for we were yet inside the Union pickets, and could return to camp without difficulty; but this was just what we did not wish. Darkness was closing in, and we knew not whether our comrades were ahead of us or behind — whether they might not be even now receiv- ing those final instructions without which it would be impossible for us to proceed. We went on in the increasing darkness until sure that we were far enough, and then concluding that we must have taken the A^rong road, we turned back toward Shelbyville. When in sight of town, at a point where do one could pass without notice, we halted and waited for nearly an hour longer. The time passed wearily. We spoke of the ludicrous figure we would make in camp after all our elaborate preparations and solemn leave taking, should we be obliged to go back. Probably some comrades would think — and at any rate, some would be sure to charge — that we got lost on purpose; that cowardice and not a mistaken road was the motive for our return ! I will not say that there were not times in the succeeding months when we wished that we had failed to find Andrews that night ! but now we scrutinized each footman with the closest care, hoping that our sus- pense might soon end. At length two men came along whose watchful and expectant manner was so expressive of feelings like our own that we joined them, and readily ascertained that they did belong to our band. Their directions were more explicit than ours, and they said that our only trouble arose from being too early. We now journeyed along very contentedly and leisurely, and other travellers overtook us until we numbered nearly a score. Next Andrews himself came up — I think he was on horseback, though, if so, he soon left the horse in some concealed place and joined us on foot. All our fears of being lost were ended; and proceedmg a few hundred yards — a little further from Shelbyville than Ross and I alone had been — we halted beside the road until another squad of our men arrived. We remained here a short time, sitting around carelessly, and conversing but little, for our number was not quite full, and our leader had the air of not wishing to speak till all were gathered to hear. After a considerable time longer, during which no one spoke much Departure at Night. 47 above a whisper — the night and soUtude and intense curiosity had disposed to silencC' — Andrews seemed satisfied that no more were coming, and ris- ing said in the low distinct tones that became so familiar to us, " Let us go a little way from the road, boys." He led the way up a slight slope on the right-hand side, through stunted bushes, to a level spot near the summit. We followed, and gathered in a compact cluster around him. Twenty-three were present. Andrews had been authorized to take twenty- four, but this was the number who actually met at this place for consulta- tion. Recent inquiries have led to the belief that at least thirty were de- tailed, one from each company of the three regiments, but that the others had been lost, as Ross and I nearly were, had refused the service as too hazardous, or had been turned back by Andrews himself. It was reason- able that some latitude should be allowed for selection on both sides. We now stood in a little thicket of dead and withered trees, with a few smaller bushes around, but the place was sufficiently open to assure us that no listener could be concealed within hearing. Probably the dramatic circumstances of this first meeting were not consciously selected by our leader, but nothing could have been devised to impress more deeply the ardent young soldiers by whom he was now surrounded. A storm was rising, though the afternoon had been so bright, and the wind began to moan at intervals through the naked trees. The mutter of thunder was also heard, faintly at first, but it soon came near and loud, while the flashes of lightning, more vivid in the darkness, enabled us to see each other's faces for a moment, and then left us in total obscurity. Andrews spoke as quietly as before, stopping when the thunder roll was too loud for him to be heard, and resuming the moment it ceased. The storm had little terror for soldiers who were accustomed to stand guard, march, sleep, or fight, by day or night, regardless of the com^motion of the elements, or only grumbling a little at the discomfort. But one noise stands out more vividly amid the sounds of night and darkness than any other — the howling of a dog from the other side of an intervening valley. There is a tinge of superstition in the veins of most people, and the majority of us would have listened with more pleasure to almost any other sound Two purposes were to be accompHshed at this conference. We were to learn enough of the plans of our leader and the risks involved to decide intelligently whether to go on with him or to return to camp. In a sense this was a mere form; for every one of us had already made up his mind to follow Andrews to the death. But to satisfy orders and mili- tary custom it was necessary that the offer should be formally made, and as formally accepted or rejected. Acceptance here made everyone of us really volunteers although we falsely claimed in the South that we were detailed without our knowledge or consent, and clung to that story 48 Daring and Suffering, without the slightest wavering until the last man was out of the power of the enemy; and it is a touching instance of Andrews's care for the life ot his men, that almost in his dying hour he confirmed this claim — although in so doing he seemed to leave his own memory under a cloud. But the truth is that he did state explicitly that if we were detected by the enemy while in disguise beyond our own lines we would in all probability be mas- sacred at once or hung as spies; and declared that we were free to return to our own tents, without other condition than the promise to keep all that he had communicated a secret. No one, however, showed the faintest desire to avail himself of this offer. If any had been detailed who were not willing to incur the hazard and lesponsibility involved, they had already been sifted out by their failure to report at this point. The other purpose of the conference was of a more practical character; it was to receive such instructions and information as would enable us to cooperate intelligently with our leader. What was our destination ? How were we to get to the scene of action? And how were subsequent orders to reach us ? These were a few of the questions that naturally pressed for answer. The opening words of Andrews to the men who clustered around him were exceedingly informal, — far more like a talk than a set speech, and hardly so loud as an ordinary conversation. Though I listened with burn- ing attention to every word, yet I cannot claim that the language used below is literally exact. There was explanation, repetition, and enlarge- ment of parts not fully understood, with frequent question and answer. Andrews sometimes spoke to all, and sometimes to one or more who wanted information on special points. He said: '* You will break up in small squads of two, three, or four, and travel east into the Cumberland mountains, then south to the Tennessee River. You can cross the river and take passage on the cars at Shell-Mound or some station between that and Chattanooga on the Memphis and Charleston Railroad. You must be at Chattanooga not later than Thursday after- noon, and reach Marietta the same evening, ready to take passage north- ward on the train the next morning. I will be there with you, or before you, and will then tell you what to do." " The road," he added, " is long and difficult, and you will have only three days and nights in which to reach Marietta. I will give you plenty of money, and you may hire conveyances whenever safe and convenient. I will ride along the same road that you are to travel, sometimes before, and sometimes behind, and will give you any help in my power. If you should be arrested I may have influence enough to secure your release, but depend on yourselves and be watchful and prudent. Do not reco > mze me unless sure that we are alone.'' Some of our party had travelled enough in the South to know that lo: Departure at Night. 49 inquisitiveness as to the destination of a stranger who comes into their midst, the people of that section are not a whit behind the most curious of Yankees, and therefore inquired, " What account shall we give of our- selves if asked who we are, and why we are coming South?" Andrews answered; '* The most plausible thing will be to tell them that you are Ken- luckians escaping from the rule of the Yankees; and that you expect to join some Southern Regiment. Say just as little as will carry you through, and always have some reason for not joining just then. After you get into the mountains you will be in the track of the Kentuckians who travel South, and will seem to be coming from there rather than from the Union army; so you need not have much trouble. But if you should be closely questioned it will be safe to say that you are from Fleming Co., Ky., for I happen to know that no Southern soldiers hail from that place, and you w'll not be confronted with any one who knows you are not.'^ Fleming County was that in which Andrews had resided for several years preceding the war, and it was largely owing to his influence that the State Guard of that county had been preserved loyal to the Union and had furnished no recruits to the rebel army. His directions were listened to with absorbing interest, and the last one turned out long afterward to be a deadly snare. But this contingency could scarcely then have been foreseen. " But if we are completely cornered and they will not believe our stories, what then ? " asked another of the soldiers. " In such a case, don't hesitate to enlist. It will be far better to serve a little while with the rebels than to run the risk of discovering our plans by holding out. You can probably get away from them some dark night on picket. You are fully authorized to take any course that may seem best, and no one of you will be suspected of desertion even if found among the rebels." Another inquired: ** Is it likely that a man who can give no satisfactory account of him- self will be permitted to join their army?" "There will not be the least trouble about that," Andrews replied; "the difficulty is to keep out of the Southern army, not to get into it. They are picking up men everywhere, and forcing them to enlist, and are emptying the jails for the same purpose. Stick to whatever story you tell, and as long as they do not get any proof that you are a Union soldier, they will be ready to hurry you into the service even if they don't believe a word you say, as the best way of disposing of you. But I hope that you will not be suspected at all, and will meet me promptly at Marietta. Probably you will not fall in with any Southern troops, and the country people will help rather than hinder you." 50 Daring and Sufferiyig. Although I listened as if spell-bound to every word, studying the speaker as well as his utterances, I was not disposed to ask any questions as to the first part of the expedition, for I had already learned a good deal about it. But there was another contingency far ahead, which had a deep personal interest to me. I greatly disliked the thought of being left alone under any circumstances — probably because of defective vision — but always feit comparatively easy when I had a trusted comrade whose eyes I could use for distant objects. I was willing to risk the journey South- ward with a small squad, for I could see how persons moving in that direction would find it easy to allay suspicion, but was much more solicit- ous about the return journey, and asked Andrews whether after we had captured the train and used it in burning the bridges, we were to abandon \\ and try to steal north as we were now stealing toward the south. He answered me very explicitly, and in so doing revealed still more of the general plan. " No," he said; "General Mitchel starts south in the morning for a forced march with all his energy, and he will surprise and capture Hunts- ville on Friday, the very day we are to capture the train; so that when we get back to that point we will find him ready to receive us. If we cannot quite reach. him, we will leave the train close to our lines and dash through in a body." This was glorious. The thought of such a coming into camp after piercing the heart of the Confederacy, set every nerve on fire ! But there was another possibility and I wanted to see that also provided for. So I asked again, whether, if we failed to run the captured train through Chattanooga and had to leave it south of that point we would still cling together. He answered emphatically; '"When we once meet at Marietta, we will stay together and either come through in a body or die together." This satisfied me perfectly, and there was little but desultory conversa- tion afterwards. Andrews called on the men to form their squads accord- ing to their own preferences and then commenced distributing Confederate money among them, giving sufficient to one man of each group for all — though without intending to constitute the man so favored the leader of his comrades. This formation of these little travelling companies was a somewhat delicate matter, and in the hurry, was not always arranged to perfect sat- isfaction. I wished the company of Ross, but he asked permission to go along with Andrews as far as he could accompany any of the party, and one or two others making the same request, they were thrown together, and I had to find other companions. I was exceedingly fortunate, as two men of Captain MitchePs, and one from Company B, the next in regi' Departure at Night. 51 mental line, fell to my portion. We constituted the left wing of the 2nd Ohio ! The work of division was now completed; the hour for parting had arrived; and we once more listened to the words of our com- mander. *' Boys,'' he began, " we are entering on a very hazardous expedition, but it will be glorious in its results, and will give the enemy the most deadly blow he has yet received. What a grand thing it will be to run through the South leaving the bridges burning and the foe in helpless rage behind ! If we burn those bridges, Mitchel will capture Chattanooga the very next day, and all East Tennessee will be open before him. But we must be prompt, for if he gets to Huntsville before us, the road will be so crowded with reinforcements moving against him that our task will be much harder. But if we have the bridges down first they can send no force against him, and he will have everything his own way. The last train leaves Chattanooga for Marietta at five in the afternoon. Be sure to catch it not later than Thursday, and I will either be on it, or an earlier one — good bye ! " About this time the rain began to fall — gently at first — but it soon came down in torrents. One group after another filed off with military precision from the place of meeting, and Andrews shook hands heartily with the members of each as they passed. A considerable interval of time was permitted to elapse between the starting of each squad and the succeeding one, for the separation was to be made from this point, and we did not wish to meet again till Marietta, Ga., was reached, or at least, till on board the last train of cars leading to that point. As we picked our uncertain way along the railroad, stumbling over the ties which were visible only by the lightning flashes, I looked back and saw Andrews, with none but the three members of the last group near him. He was looking after us, his head bent slightly forward in the pensive attitude habitual with him, and a broad stream of lightning made him at that moment stand out as clearly as the mid-day; the next moment he disappeared in utter darkness, and the crash of thunder overhead drowned every other sound. We hurried on our way and were soon far irom the place of meeting. CHAPTER V. PREVIOUS HISTORY OF JAMES J. ANDREWS. THERE are few more romantic figures among those who rose into prominence during the great civil war than James J. Andrews. The manner in which he inspired confidence among the officers of the Northern and Southern armies alike, and bound to him all the private soldiers with whom he came in contact, is very remarkable. The charac- ter of our parting from him at the beginning of the furious thunderstorm Flemingsburg, Ky. From a photograph. on the evening of April 7, 1862, which was a fitting emblem of the enter- prise on which we had entered, shows how strong was the impression he had already made upon us. After that interview I felt no doubt ns to the issue of the enterprise. The quiet confidence and matter-of-fact tone of Andrews assured me of success. Similar feelings were expressed by other members of the party. Who was he, and how had he come to occupy his unique position — neither a soldier nor an officer, yet counseling officers and commanding 54 Daring and Suffering, soldiers ? None of our party could have answered this question then, but it is well to give the reader all the information since acquired by diligent search at Flemingsburg and elsewhere. Flemingsburg is a small rural county seat, situated on tha slope of a steep hill, on the border of the " blue grass " region of Kentucky. The population, only 1200, has scarcely changed since the beginning of the war. The branch of a small railroad now leads to it, but then it was almost completely isolated, bemg seventeen miles distant by turnpike from Maysville on the Ohio River, its nearest point of communication with the outside world. One day in the spring of 1859, a traveller came either by stage or on foot into this secluded village. He joined a group of idlers near the brick hotel opposite the court-house, and listened for a time in silence to the desultory conversation. At length he made some inquiries, and in response to questions addressed to himself, said that he had just come up from Maysville, and had thought of seeking a position as school-teacher. Noticing the name "Andrews" on a sign across the street, he asked if there were many of those people in town. Being answered in the affirma- tive, and assured that they were among the leading citizens of the place, he said, That is my own name, and I think I will go no further, but make my home here for awhile." He further stated that he was a native of Hancock Co., West Virginia, and that he had come down to Maysville on a raft. Though he had little money or apparent means, he was cordially received, and made to feel at home. No opportunity presenting for em- ployment as teacher, he began work as house and ornamental painter, and was very skillful. He had a beautiful voice as a singer, and taught several "singing schools" in the evenings, becoming a general favorite with young and old. There was always an air of reserve and mystery about him. He seemed, as one of the citizens told me, " like a man who had a story." His wide information and refinement of manner, his manly beauty and easy grace in any company, gave him a marked ascendancy over his com- panions, even while he tried to be one of them. Nothing definite or posi- tive was known of his former life; and while no one cared to ask him directly on the subject, a story was generally circulated as having originated with himself, to the effect that his father had entrusted him with $5,000, which he invested in a flouring mill with wool-carding attachment, in Ohio, but that the mill had burned without any insurance, and that when he returned to his father's, a sister reproached him so bitterly with this loss that he left home, resolving that his family should not hear from him until he had more than made this amount good. A modification of the same story of a still more romantic type was afterward told by him to some members of our party. I give it as repeated by Jacob Parrot from memory, and, after the lapse of so many years, it is possibly not accurate Previous History oj ^ antes J, Andrews. 55 in all details. It was said that shortly before the burning of the mill, Mr. Andrews had been on very friendly terms with two young. ladies, and ulti- mately became engaged to one of them. When all his property was lost in the flames, this lady wrote him a very chilling letter, asking, in view of changed circumstances, a release from the engagement. He at once took this letter to the other lady, and finding the warmth of her sympathy a grateful contrast, he offered himself and was accepted. But his trials were not yet over. Within a month of the period fixed for marriage, the second lady — he never gave the names of either — suddenly died. The three-fold disappointment — loss of money, the unfaithfulness of his first love, and the death of the second — so wrought upon him that he left his home and resolved to make for himself a new life amid new scenes. His parents had pre- viously removed from West Vir- ginia to Southwestern Missouri. I have never been able to find the location of this mill or to veri- fy the story in either form. But the absence of all references to his former life in his last letter and bequests,' the heartiness with which he accepted the secluded Flemingsburg as his new home, together with a kind of pensive- ness and melancholy which were manifest when not actively engaged, all point to some decisive break in his history. Most of the people of Flemingsburg were convinced that Mr. Andrews was very anxious to make money. Yet this conviction seemed to have no other basis than his own words. He was not at all penurious, was strictly honest, and seemed to have done no more than maintain himself respectably. Some months later, an incident occurred which made Mr. Andrews feel still more at home in Fleming County. An old gentleman, named Lindsey, who lived some seven or eight miles from Flemmgsburg, on the Maysville Turnpike, partially rebuilt his house and employed Mr.Andrews to do the necessary painting. While thus engaged, he became intimate with Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey, and they frequently jested with him about James }, Andrews. From a photograph in the pos- session of Miss Elvira Layton. 56 Daring and Suffering. nis growing so old without marrying. He answered that he could find nc lady willing to accept him, who would not be extravagant and wasteful ot the property that he wished to earn. Lindsey rejoined that he knew one who possessed every desirable quality, without being in the least tainted with the defect feared. Andrews, still jesting, promised that if introduced to such a model woman, he would at least try to win her. Mr. Lindsey was a sympathizer with the South in the angry controversies that already began to presage war, while Andrews was as firm on the other side; but Miss Ei.izaheth J. Layion. From a photograph belonging to Mrs. Wm. Rawlins, this did not prevent a great esteem on the part of the older man for the younger, nor make him less in earnest in his match-making proposal; and soon Miss Elizabeth J. Layton, utterly unsuspicious of the serious conse- quences that were to follow, received an invitation from Mrs. Lindsey to spend a few days with her, to assist in sewing. The lady was tali, graceful and finely formed, of pleasing though not strikingly handsome countenance, and probably a year or two older than Andrews. Her man- ners were quiet and grave, but she had a very decided character. She was a member of the *' Christian church ' (Campbellite), and her sym- Previous History of J aims J. Andrews. 57 pathies were entirely with the loyal side in the rising struggle. How much similarity of political views had to do with the result, we cannot saj; but soon after becoming acquainted they were warm friends. Delightful evenings were spent in the large, old-fashioned parlor of the Lindseys; and Andrews soon confessed to his employer that the latter had judged well. Before the courtship had ripened into an engagement, the storm of war broke over the country, and for a time the lovers saw less of each other. The young man from the North — for Hancock Co. , Virginia, and the whole " Pan-Handle lying between Ohio and Pennsylvania, fully shared the sentiments of the loyal States — took no uncertain position, and with his work in the Kentucky State-guard, and afterwards in more important enterprises, his time was fully occupied. But soon he" found an oppor- tunity of proposing to Miss Layton, and was accepted. At the solicita- tion of his betrothed, Andrews promised that when he had finished one more daring enterprise he would retire from military service. The date of marriage was fixed for June 17, 1862. But a dark tragedy was com- pleted before that date ! When the war broke out in the spring of 1861, Kentucky occupied a peculiar position. The majority of the people had no wish to secede, but they wished as little to engage heartily in war for upholding the Union. The call of the President for troops was received with scorn, and every county was agitated by the question of secession. For a time the im- possible task was essayed of remaining neutral. Troops were enrolled as a " State-guard, not to be called into service unless the state was invaded, when they were to be used against the party making the invasion. Such a position of "Armed Neutrality,'^ was untenable, because refusing to aid the Government in time of need was disloyalty, and because the position of Kentucky between the two great sections made it sure that sooner or later the State would be forced to adhere to one side or the other. Andrews spoke decidedly in favor of maintaining the Union. He was never an abolitionist, but wished to see the old flag unsullied, and the nation undivided. He joined the volunteer organization of Fleming Co., and brought all his powers of persuasion to bear in securing its unqualified adhesion to the Union cause. The war excitement had brought all business to a standstill. There was no house building or other improvements during the spring and early summer months of 1861, and consequently no demand for painting. Andrews was at this time boarding at the hotel of Mr. J, B. Jackson, who, finding him out of employment, offered him the temporary position of clerk. This he held for several months. At length Andrews made a journey to Louisville, and on his return announced that he had been appointed deputy U. S. Provost Marshal, and that his jurisdiction in that capacity would be extended over Fleming and 58 Daring and Suffering. the adjoining counties. No small dissatisfaction was expressed at this appointment, especially by those whose sympathies were with the Con- federacy. But Andrews entered upon the duties of the office with much apparent zeal, purchasing a copy of *'Conkling's Practice" to inform himself in regard to modes of procedure in U. S. Courts. But the same evening of his return from Louisville, he informed his friend Jackson that the office was only a blind; that his real business was that of spy for the Union Army. The account he gave of his entrance upon this busi- ness was that he met a young lieutenant, incidentally, while on business in Cincinnati, who recommended it to him as an employment in which he could render great service to his country; and that, being at the time out of employment, he went to Louisville, offered his services, and was im- mediately accepted. Jackson was greatly shocked at this revelation, not because of the nature of the employment, for he was a strong Union man, and in the feeling then existing nothing that could be done against the opposite side was considered too bad; but because of the danger involved. He told Andrews that if he did not give it up, his being detected and hung was only a question of time. Andrews did not deny the probability, but said that he was doing no good now and that he was determined *' to make a spoon or' spoil a horn.^' Jackson understood him to mean that he would make a fortune in that business, or lose everything, life included: but it is easy to give the words a nobler interpretation. As the remon- strances of Jackson were unavailing, he told Andrews that he must seek a new boarding-place in order not to compromise his friend. Andrews agreed to the propriety of this, and at once removed to Mrs. Eckles's board- ing-house. Andrews accompanied General Nelson in his expedition into the mountains in Eastern Kentucky, and there rendered considerable service, though not equal to his expectation, for there was not much real work in that place for a spy to do. What he attempted, however, aroused the bitter hostility of the enemy, and his escape from them was, in more than one instance, very narrow. In reference to this he told another friend, Mr. J. H. Cooper, that as the Confederates were so very bitter toward nim, he had resolved to do them all the injury in his power, or lose his life in the effort. It is doubtful whether Andrews up to this time can properly be called a spy, notwithstanding his use of the word to Jackson. He seems rather to have been a scout and agent for secret communication with the Union men of Kentucky. He was known in his own home and generally in the towns through which he passed as a Union man; and while he did not wear uniform, he was not directly in the military service, and seems to have been regarded simply as a Kentucky citizen rendering aid to the Federal army. This exposed him, when beyond the protection of the army, to Previous History of James J. Andrews, 59 the hostility of the Confederates, and, at the same time, cut him off from the opportunity of obtaining information regarding the intentions of the enemy. He now resolved on a bolder course, and entered upon it in a characteristic manner. The first step, as told me by Mr. Ashton, present Postmaster at Flemingsburg, who was an eye-witness, is very striking. Andrews had been absent for several days — at Louisville it is presumed — and on his return was accosted in a friendly manner by Judge Cord, one of his intimate associates, and a leader among the Unionists. He replied coldly and gruffly. As the other approached, and again spoke cordially, Andrews said: " I don't care to talk with you." " What's the matter ?" the other responded, still unwilling to accept the rebuff. Andrews returned: *' I have been behind the scenes the last few days. I saw too much." *' Why, what wonderful things have you seen ?" said the other, deeply puzzled by this extraordinary change of front. Why, I have seen how this war is carried on, and what it means. It's all a great speculation. Everybody is trying to make what he can out of it, and I will have nothing more to do with it." Mr. Ashton also was greatly astonished at such language from an ardent Union man, who had been virtually in the military service of the United States; but he saw not far away, and closely observing them, a certain William A. Berry — a bold, reckless man, the ringleader of the rebel element in that entire district. Of course he was greatly interested in this sudden conversion of Andrews. About an hour afterwards, Ashton observed Berry and Andrews in close and very animated conversation at another part of the street. Andrews was telling of his cnanged views, and ended by asking Berry to get him admitted to the societies by which the friends of the South were bound together, as it was now his intention to serve the South with all his might. At this proposition, Berry, who had seemed pleased at first, broke out in a volley of oaths, pouring upon Andrews the bitterest abuses and curses, saying, "Andrews, do you take me for a baby or fool? You are nothing more or less than " — with a volley of oaths attached — " an infamous spy ! and T will see that your character is made known and will gladly help hang you, as you deserve ! " Andrews quietly said: ** Berry, you are excited. You will understand me better after awhile ! " and left him foaming with rage and threatening condign vengeance for the treason which he suspected. Andrews con- tinued to avoid the Union men of Flemingsburg in public, from this time, but all his advances were coldly received by the opposite party. He had been too fully committed, and there was a short time when he was in no small degree of personal danger. At first the leaders of the Union party in Kentucky had held their 1 6o Daring and Suffering. partizans back from enlisting in the Federal army until the posture of the State had been fully determined, for the sake of their influence and vote in local matters. But soon the ardent young men swarmed into the army in such numbers as in some places to materially affect the preponde- rance of their cause at home. During this period in Flemingsburg, Andrews was more than ever threatened; and it seemed as if all his great personal popularity had vanished. But he was then, as always, undis- mayed, and the Union sentiment soon became so firmly established and so aggressive that Berry and his chief friends found it convenient to retire beyond the rebel lines — the former engaging in business in Nashville. In another conversation with his confidential friend, Jackson, Andrews declared his determination to follow this example, and also go to Nashville. Remonstrances were tried in vain; Jackson saying Why, Andrews, what will you do about Berry? He wanted to hang you even here, but if he finds you in Nashville where the rebels have it all their own way, he will do it." "I can manage that,'' Andrews replied, and in due time made his way through the lines. At Nashville he boldly went to the largest hotel in the evening, and registering as J. J. Andrews of Flemingsburg, Kentucky, went to bed. Be- fore he was up in the morning he heard an impatient rap at his door, and a voice saying, Let me in. I want to see you ! " He opened the door, and his visitor entering, announced himself as Judge Moore of Fleming County, and said: " What are you doing here? I always heard that you were one of the head Yankees up there ! '' Andrews had seen Moore, though he had no personal acquaintance with him, and replied: So I was at first, but the only difference between you and me is that you saw into this thing a little sooner than I did, and when I turned over to the right side, it got too hot for me at Flemingsburg. The Yankees have it all their own way there now. Moore grasped his hand, warmly congratulated him on having come over, and welcomed him to Nashville. As soon as Andrews was dressed they breakfasted together, and Moore then took him up to Military Head- quarters and introduced him to Beauregard, Hardee, and other prominent officers, as "his friend Andrews from Flemingsburg." The latter told these officers that he proposed to run articles needed in the South through the Union lines — a very profitable, though a very hazardous business, and one that would be of great benefit to the Southern armies, which were in need of medical supplies, especially quinine, and other articles of small l)ulk but great intrinsic value. The stringent blockade had made all things not manfactured in the South excessively scarce and costly. They encouraged him, giving passes and all necessary facilities. Shortly after this, probably the next day, Andrews met Berry face to Previous History of James J. Andrews, 6i face on the street. The latter stopped as if thunderstruck, and exclaimed with a great oath, '*Well ! what are you doing here, anyway, Andrews?" Andrews greeted him cordially, told him that he was intending to hunt him up as soon as he got settled, and adding the same expression that he had used with Judge Moore, " The only difference between us. Berry, is that you saw how things were moving a little sooner than I did. Just then one of the leading rebel officers in passing by, greeted Andrews familiarly, and Berry could hold out no longer. He said, "Andrews, I was a little hard on you when I thought you wanted to play the spy on me, but you must overlook that. I am glad that you are all right, even if I was mis- taken in you; and now if I ran do you any favor here in Nashville do not hesitate to call on me." Andrews promised to bear that in mind, and as Berry had engaged in the saddler's business, he brought him through a cargo of buckles and other much-needed articles on his first blockade- running trip. Ever after he- had no better friend in all the South than Berry. Andrews now occupied a position where he could do the Union cause the most essential service. His business as blockade-runner gave him free access to all parts of the territory held by rebel armies, and the pur- chase of new supplies furnished the opportunity and excuse for frequent v^isits to the Federal lines. The amount of trading that he thus did was duly reported, along with all other matters, to his employers. Before the general movement of the Union armies began which resulted in breaking the enemy's lines, and forcing him out of Kentucky, Andrews visited Fort Donelson, gaining admission probably as a bearer of medical supplies, and succeeded in getting a complete account of the Confederate forces there, together with a sketch of their works. In order that his in- formation might be in time for the movement which was then imminent, he rode sixty miles in one night. Andrews formed a business partnership with Mr. Whiteman, a well- known merchant of Nashville, who supplied him with money needed for his purchases and aided him in the work of distribution. No doubt his own pecuniary profits were considerable, and these he took pleasure in repre- senting to his friends within the Confederate lines as the motive which induced him to run such extraordinary hazards. It is probable, though not certain, that the Federal commander was well pleased to have him thus pay himself, and save the arrny fund the heavy rewards a daring spy might have claimed. When Buell's advance division under Mitchel reached Green river, opposite Bowling Green, and began throwing shells across, Andrews was in the town. It is even said that lie rendered the Confederate commander - a slight service by moving out from the station a train of cars which had been abandoned, just as it was ready to start, by engineer and train hands 62 Daring and Suffering, on account of the severity of the Federal fire; and thus won fervent ex- pression of gratitude, and still more absolute trust. He remained in the captured town and was thus able to give precise information of the condi- tion of the flying foe. Then he passed on ahead of the Union columns, and arrived in Nashville, in time to witness the rebel evacuation of that city, and to greet the Union armies on their entrance.' At some time near midwinter (probably about the first of February), Andrews visited Flemingsburg for the last time. The excitement attending his leaving the place had died away — he had returned once or twice pre-> viously — and he was very kindly received, the confidence and good will inspired by former acquaintance having overcome the irritation occasioned by his professed change of views. But there were only three persons with whom he held any confidential communications. One of these was his friend Jackson, whom he trusted utterly, and whose warnings and entreaties to leave a business so fraught with danger, he answered by telling him how fully he was trusted by the rebel authorities, and — what Jackson could fully appreciate — what an excellent chance he now had to make money ! He assured his friend, however, that he would not continue in the same line of employment much longer. Another man he trusted was Mr. J. H. Moore, then quite young. He did not talk to him of money, as his motive in his hazardous career, but of the services he was rendering the country, and so enkindled his im- agination, that the young man wished to accompany him, and enter upon the same business. As he was intelligent and cool-headed, Andrews did not at first try to hinder him, though he told him that it was a dreadful life, far more dangerous than that of any soldier. Andrews consented very readily to accompany him at least as far as Cincinnati, and the two left Flemingsburg in company. On the trip down the river Andrews was very sociable, and made no objections to Moore's expressed intention of going on with him to Nashville, so that the latter considered himself as fully embarked on the career of a spy. Bui when they were shown to their room at Cincinnati at night, and were alone, Andrews laid his hand on him and said, " Young man, you don't know what you have undertaken. I like your spirit, but you are ten years too young. I am going to put the whole matter before you, and then if you go on, it will be on your own re- sponsibility.'* Andrews then drew a picture so frightful that young Moore felt all his ardor ebbing away. The sober thought of the morning completed the work that Andrew's evening words had begun, and Moore informed the latter, apparently much to his satisfaction, that his mind was mnde up to return home and enter the army in the common way. Then Andrews ' Andrews was within the Confederate lines when I advanced upon Nashville. He reported to me there." — From a letter by Gen. P. C. Buell to the Author, Jan. ii, 1887. Previous History of James J. Andrews. t>3 made a simple request of him, which throws no small light on the charac- ter of this strange man. " Moore/' said he, " Mrs. Bright asked me to send her back a dollar's worth of sugar from Maysville and gave me the money to pay for it; but I had so many things on my mind that I forgot all about it, and have her m.oney yet. Will you get the sugar and take home with you for her Moore was accustomed to say long after this that Andrews actually seemed to think more of that old lady's disappointment than of all the dangers he was entering upon ! Andrews had not failed to visit Miss Layton during this final stay in Flemingsburg. He tried to make her think that there was no special risk involved in his present employment; but she was not so easily deceived. Intensely patriotic, and having her full share of the war spirit, she was glad that he was serving the Union cause; but there was so much of the hidden and mysterious element of danger in his present employment that she pleaded with him to give it up. He yielded so far as to promise that one more trip should be his last, a trip from which he was to return a consider-