Daring and Suffering:
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William Pittenger >> Daring and Suffering:
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When we parted, he grasped my hand with tears in his eyes, and said he
hoped "the time would soon come when we would be comrades, fighting
side by side in one glorious cause." My heart revolted from the
hypocrisy I was compelled to use; but having commenced, there was no
possibility of turning back.
On we clambered up the mountain till the top was reached; then across
the summit, which was a tolerably level road for six miles; then down
again, over steep rocks, yawning chasms, and great gullies; a road
that none but East Tennesseeans or soldier Yankees could have traveled
at all. This rough jaunt led us down into Battle Creek, which is a
delightful, picturesque valley, hemmed in by projecting ridges of
lofty mountains.
While here, they told me how this valley obtained its name, which is
certainly a very romantic legend, and no doubt true.
In early times there was war among the Indians. One tribe made a
plundering expedition into the camp of another, and after securing
their booty retreated. Of course they were pursued, and in their
flight were traced to this valley. There the pursuers believed them to
be concealed, and to make their capture sure, divided their force into
two bands, each one taking an opposite side of the valley.
It was early in the morning, and as they wended their way cautiously
onward, the mountain mist came down just as I had seen it descend
that morning, and enveloped each of the parties in its folds.
Determined not to be foiled, they marched on, and meeting at the head
of the valley, each supposed the other to be the enemy. They poured in
their fire, and a deadly conflict ensued. Not till nearly all their
number had fallen did the survivors discover their mistake, and they
slowly and sorrowfully returned to their wigwams. The plunderers, who
had listened to their conflict in safety, being further up the
mountains, were thus left to carry home their booty in triumph.
But we had no leisure for legendary tales.
The sun had set, and we stopped for the night with a rabid
Secessionist, whom our soldier-friend on the mountain had recommended
to us. He received us with open arms, shared with us the best his
house afforded--giving us his bedroom, and sleeping with his family in
the kitchen. We spent the evening in denouncing the Abolitionists,
which term was used indiscriminately to designate all Federals who did
not advocate the acknowledgment of the Confederacy. This did not go
quite so hard as it did at first, for practice had rendered it nearly
as easy for us to falsify our sentiments as to express them plainly.
Among other things we instanced to show the tyranny of the Lincolnites
in Kentucky, was the expatriation law. This law provides that all
persons aiding or abetting the rebels, or leaving the State and going
South with their army, shall be _expatriated_, and lose all their
right of citizenship in the State. The old man thought this was an act
of unparalleled oppression; and in the morning, before I was out of
bed, came in the room, and desired that some one of us would write
that law down, that he might show his Union neighbors what the Yankees
would do when they had the sway. I wrote it, and we all afterward
signed our names to it. No doubt that document has been the theme of
many angry discussions.
So thoroughly did we deceive the old man, that when, three days after,
the railroad adventure fell on the astonished Confederates like a clap
of thunder out of a clear sky, he would not believe that we were part
of the men engaged in it. One of his neighbors, who was a Union man,
and was arrested and confined in the same prison with us, told us that
to the last our host maintained that his guests, at least, were true
and loyal Southerners. Should I ever again be in that part of the
country, I would delight to call on him in my true character, and
talk over the national troubles from another point of view.
We stayed with him Wednesday night, and were still a long way from
Chattanooga. We had designed, notwithstanding our weariness, to travel
all that night, but accidentally met some of our comrades who had seen
Andrews, who informed them that he had postponed the enterprise one
day longer. This was a great relief, as it saved us a most wearisome
and dreaded night tramp. But better to have taken it, for the delay of
that _one_ day was fatal. On Friday there would have been no extra
trains to meet, and our success would have been sure. But this we did
not know at the time.
The next day, which was Thursday, we came to Jasper, stopped in the
town and around the groceries awhile, talking of the state of the
country. We told them Kentucky was just ready to rise and shake off
her chains, and they were just foolish enough to believe it!
Here we heard the first indistinct rumor of the battle of Shiloh--of
course, a wonderful victory to the rebels, killing thousands of
Yankees, and capturing innumerable cannon. It was the impression that
our army was totally destroyed. One countryman gravely assured me that
five hundred gunboats had been sunk. I told him I did not think the
Yankees had so many as that, but was unable to shake his faith.
That night we stayed at Widow Hall's, and there met Andrews and some
of our other comrades. This was on the banks of the Tennessee river,
and Andrews advised us to cross there, and to take passage on the cars
at Shell Mound station, as there had been a stringent order issued to
let no one cross above, who could not present perfectly satisfactory
credentials. Andrews had these, but we had not; it was, therefore,
advisable for us to be challenged as few times as possible. We passed
a pleasant evening, during which the wit of my friend Shadrack kept us
in a continual roar of laughter.
At last morning came, and we went down to the bank of the river to
cross. The ferryman had just swung the boat into the stream, and we
were getting into it, when a man arrived with positive orders from the
military authorities to let no one across for three days.
Affairs now looked dark. We could not cross except at the upper
ferries, and not there unless our credentials were good. However, we
resolved to persevere, and thinking in this case, as in many others,
the boldest plan would be the safest, we again struck over the wild
spurs of the Cumberland, which here sweep directly down to the river,
on in the direction of Chattanooga, with the intention of trying to
cross there, at headquarters.
Our journey was far from a pleasant one, and several times we lost our
road in the entanglements of the mountains; but at last we reached a
valley that ran directly down to the river, opposite Chattanooga. Here
the road was more frequented, and from the travelers we met we learned
further particulars of the battle of Shiloh. Still the accounts were
rose-tinted for the Confederates, though they now admitted a
considerable loss.
One man gave me an interesting item of news from the East; it was,
that the Merrimac had steamed out, and after engaging the Monitor for
some time with no decisive results, had ran alongside, and throwing
grappling-hooks on her, towed her ashore, where, of course, she fell
an easy prey. He said that now they had the two best gunboats in the
world, and they would be able to raise the blockade without
difficulty, and even to burn the Northern cities. But I have not space
to tell of all the wild chimeras and absurd stories that we heard on
our entrance into a land where truth always has been contraband. From
that time forward, we heard of continuous Confederate victories, and
not one Union triumph, till in September, when they admitted that they
were repulsed by Rosecrans at Corinth.
On reaching the river, we found a great number of persons on the bank
waiting to go over. The ferryman was there with a horse-boat, but the
wind was so high that he feared to attempt the crossing. We waited as
patiently as we could, though the time for the cars to start on the
other side had nearly arrived, and we could not well afford to miss
them. At length, the ferryman agreed to attempt the passage. He found
it very difficult. We were about an hour in crossing, though the river
was only a few hundred yards in width. Several times we were beaten
back to our own side, but at last perseverance conquered, and we
landed at Chattanooga.
The passage was an anxious one, for we expected to find the guard
waiting for us on the other side; and then, if we failed to satisfy
them that we were loyal subjects of King Jefferson, we would at once
land in a Southern prison. Judge, then, of our delight when we saw no
guard there, and were permitted to pass unmolested and unquestioned on
our route.
I do not yet know the reason of this sudden relaxation of vigilance.
Perhaps it was because all their attention was directed to Huntsville,
which was now occupied in force by General Mitchel. The panic produced
by this occupation was immense, as the only communication it left them
with Beauregard was by the circuitous route through Atlanta, and when,
the next day, this too was endangered, their excitement knew no
bounds.
Chattanooga is a small town--not much more than a village. It is
pleasantly situated on the banks of the Tennessee, and is bowered in
amidst lofty mountain peaks. One of these hangs right over the town,
and is more than seven hundred feet in perpendicular hight. From its
summit parts of four States are visible--Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama,
and North Carolina. It is capable of being very strongly fortified;
and though there were no works erected when I was there, many may have
been built since. It is one of the most important strategic points in
the whole South, and should have been in the possession of our forces
long ago.
From the river we went directly to the depot. Some of our party had
arrived earlier, and gone down to Marietta on a former train. We found
the cars nearly ready to start, and after loitering around a few
minutes in the depot, which was crowded full of travelers--mostly
soldiers--we purchased our tickets and got aboard. The cars were
jammed full. There was scarcely room to stand. Many of the passengers
were soldiers who had been at home on furlough, and were returning to
join Beauregard. The conversation was mostly on the great battle which
had just been fought, and the accounts were by no means so glowing as
they had been at first; still they announced a great victory. We took
part in the conversation, and expressing as much interest as any one,
our true character was not suspected. There was at this time no system
of passports in use on that line, and travel was entirely
unrestricted.
The sun was about an hour high as we glided out of the depot, and soon
sunk to rest behind the hills of Georgia. There were many bridges on
the road, and as we passed over them, we could not help picturing to
ourselves our proposed return on the morrow, and the probabilities of
the destruction we intended to wreck on them. Darkness gradually
closed in, and on we went amid the laughter and oaths of the
Confederates, many of whom were very much intoxicated. I procured a
seat on the coal-box, and for awhile gave myself up to the
reflections naturally suggested by the near culmination of the
enterprise in which I was engaged. Visions of former days and
friends--dear friends, both around the camp-fire and by the hearth of
home, whom I might never see again, floated before me. But gradually,
as the night wore on, these faded, and I slept.
At midnight, we were wakened by the conductor calling "Marietta." The
goal was reached. We were in the center of the Confederacy, with our
deadly enemies all around. Before we left, we were to strike a blow
that would either make all rebeldom vibrate to the center, or be
ourselves at the mercy of the merciless. It was a time for solemn
thought; but we were too weary to indulge in speculations of the
future. We retired to bed in the Tremont House, and were soon folded
in sweet slumbers--the last time we slept on a bed for many weary
months.
CHAPTER IV.
Take an Early Train--Prospecting--Capture of the Train--Panic in
Confederate Camp--Away at Lightning Speed--Thrilling Experience--Cut
the Telegraph--Tear up the Track--Unexpected Obstacle--Running a
Powder Train to Beauregard--Red Flag--Dropping Cross-Ties--Battering
out Spikes--Immense Exertion of Strength--Pursuing Backward--Terrible
Chase--Attempt to Wreck the Enemy's Train--Fearful Speed--Bold Plan.
The waiter aroused us at four o'clock in the morning, as we told him
we wished to take the train at that hour back to Camp McDonald, which
is located at a place called Big Shanty, eight miles north of
Marietta, and is also a breakfast station. Andrews had gone to another
hotel, and warned the members of the party there to be in readiness to
take passage. Two of them, Hawkins and Porter, who had arrived
earlier, were not warned, and were, therefore, left behind. It was not
their fault, as they had no certain knowledge of the time we were to
start, but rather thought it would be the next day.
There were just twenty of us on the train, Andrews and nineteen
others, of whom several were engineers. We went along very quietly
and inoffensively, just as any other passengers would do, until we
reached Big Shanty. I knew that we were to take possession of the
train at this place, but did not just know how it was to be done. I
thought we would probably have to fight, and compel the conductor,
train-hands, and passengers to get off. We might have done this, but
it would have required very quick work, for there were then some ten
thousand troops, mostly conscripts, camped there, and a guard was
placed watching the train. But a far better plan was adopted.
As soon as we arrived, the engineer, conductor, and many of the
passengers went over to the eating-house. Now was our opportunity!
Andrews, and one or two others, went forward and examined the track,
to see if everything was in readiness for a rapid start.
Oh! what a thrilling moment was that! Our hearts throbbed thick and
fast with emotions we dared not manifest to those who were loafing
indifferently around. In a minute, which seemed an hour, Andrews came
back, opened the door, and said, very quietly and carelessly, "Let us
go, now, boys." Just as quietly and carelessly we arose and followed
him. The passengers who were lazily waiting for the train to move
on and carry them to their destination, saw nothing in the transaction
to excite their suspicions. Leisurely we moved forward--reached the
head of the train--then Andrews, Brown our engineer, and Knight, who
also could run an engine, leaped on the locomotive; Alfred Wilson took
the top of the cars as brakesman, and the remainder of us clambered
into the foremost baggage car, which, with two others, had been
previously uncoupled from the hinder part of the train. For one moment
of most intense suspense all was still--then a pull--a jar--a
clang--and we were flying away on our perilous journey.
[Illustration: "A pull--a jar--a clang--and we were flying away on our
perilous journey."--Page 59.]
There are times in the life of man when whole years of intensest
enjoyment seem condensed into a single moment. It was so with me then.
I could comprehend the emotion of Columbus, when he first beheld
through the dim dawn of morning, the new found, but long dreamed-of
shores of America, or the less innocent, but no less vivid joy of
Cortez, when he first planted the cross of Spain over the golden halls
of Montezuma. My breast throbbed full with emotions of delight and
gladness, that words labor in vain to express. A sense of ethereal
lightness ran through all my veins, and I seemed to be ascending
higher--higher--into realms of inexpressible bliss, with each
pulsation of the engine. It was a moment of triumphant joy that will
never return again. Not a dream of failure now shadowed my rapture.
All had told us that the greatest difficulty was to reach and take
possession of the engine, and after that, success was certain. _It
would have been_, but for unforeseen contingencies.
Away we scoured, passing field, and village, and woodland. At each
leap of the engine our hearts rose higher, and we talked merrily of
the welcome that would greet us when we dashed into Huntsville a few
hours later--our enterprise done, and the brightest laurels of the
guerilla Morgan far eclipsed!
But the telegraph ran by our side, and was able, by the flashing of a
single lightning message ahead, to arrest our progress and dissipate
all our fondest hopes. There was no telegraphic station where we took
the train, but we knew not how soon our enemies might reach one, or
whether they might not have a portable battery at command. To obviate
all danger on this point, we stopped, after running some four miles,
to cut the wire.
John Scott, an active young man, climbed the pole, and with his hand
knocked off the insulated box at the top, and swung down on the wire.
Fortunately, there was a small saw on the engine, with which the wire
was soon severed. While this was being done, another party took up a
rail, and put it into the car to carry off with us. This did not long
check our pursuers, but we had the satisfaction of learning that it
threw them down an embankment, as will be narrated more fully in a
Confederate account inserted hereafter.
When the engine first stopped, Andrews jumped off, clasped our hands
in ecstasy, congratulating us that our difficulties were now all over;
that we had the enemy at such a disadvantage that he could not harm
us, and exhibited every sign of joy. Said he, "Only one more train to
pass, and then we will put our engine to full speed, burn the bridges
after us, dash through Chattanooga, and on to Mitchel at Huntsville."
The programme would have been filled if we had met _only one_ train.
We were ahead of time, and in order to meet the down train just _on_
time, we were obliged to stop on the track awhile. These were tedious
moments while we waited, but soon we moved on very slowly again. At
the next station, Andrews borrowed a schedule from the tank-tender,
telling him that he was running an express powder-train through to
Beauregard. He gave the schedule, saying that he would send his shirt
to Beauregard if he wanted it. When asked afterwards if he did not
suspect anything, he said he would as soon have thought of suspecting
Jeff Davis, as one who talked with so much assurance as Andrews did!
On we went till we reached the station where we were to pass what we
believed to be the last train. Here the switch was not properly
adjusted, and Andrews entered the station-house, without asking leave
of anybody, took down the keys, and adjusted the switch. This raised
some disturbance on the part of those around the station, but it was
quieted by telling them the same powder story. After waiting a short
time, the down train arrived, and we passed it without difficulty. But
we observed on it what we did not like--a _red flag_, indicating that
another train was behind.
This was most discouraging, for we had now hoped to have the road
exclusively to ourselves; but still we did not despair. However, we
had yet to run on regular time, which was, unfortunately, very _slow_
time--not more than twelve or fifteen miles an hour. Thus unavoidably
consuming our precious moments, we glided on till we reached the
station where we expected to meet what we were now sure would be our
last hindrance. We stopped on a side-track to wait for it, and there
had to remain _twenty-five_ minutes. Just as we had concluded to go
on, and risk the chances of a collision, the expected train hove in
sight.
It was safely passed, as the other had been before; but judge of our
dismay when we beheld a _red flag_ on this train also! Matters now
began to look dark. Much of our precious time, which we had reserved
as a margin for burning bridges, was now gone, and we were still tied
down to the slow regular rate of running. Yet we could not retreat,
and had no resource but to press firmly on. This we did, and
obstructed the track as well as we could, by laying on cross-ties at
different places. We also cut the telegraph wire between every
station.
Finally, when we were nearly to the station where we expected to meet
the last train, we stopped to take up a rail. We had no instruments
for doing this, except a crowbar, and, instead of pulling out the
spikes, as we could have done with the pinch burrs used for that
purpose by railroad men, we had to _batter_ them out. This was slow
work. We had loosened this rail at one end, and eight of us took hold
of it to try to pull the other end loose. Just as we were going to
relinquish the effort in despair, the _whistle of an engine in pursuit
sounded in our ears_! The effect was magical. With one convulsive
effort we broke the rail in two, and tumbled pell-mell over the
embankment. No one was hurt, and we took up our precious half rail,
which insured us time to pass the train ahead, before our pursuers
could be upon us.
We were not a moment too soon, for we were scarcely out of sight of
where we had taken up the last rail, before the other train met us.
This was safely passed, and when our pursuers came to the place where
we had broken the rail, they abandoned their own train, and ran on
foot till they met the one we had just passed, and turned it back
after us, running with great speed.
We were now aware of our danger, and adopted every expedient we could
think of to delay pursuit; but, as we were cutting the wire near
Calhoun, they came in sight of us. Then ensued the most terrible and
thrilling chase ever known on the American continent.
We instantly put our engine to full speed, and in a moment its wheels
were striking fire from the rails in their rapid revolutions. The car
in which we were, rocked furiously, and threw us from one side to the
other like peas rattled in a gourd. Still on after us relentlessly
came the pursuers. The smoke of their engine could be distinguished in
every long reach, and the scream of their whistle sounded in our ears
around every curve. It was still necessary for us to cut the wire,
and, in order to gain time for that, we dropped a car on the track,
and, soon after, another. This left us with only the locomotive,
tender, and one baggage-car. Each time, when we stopped to cut the
wire, we would try to take up another rail; but before we could loosen
its fastenings with our imperfect tools, the approach of our enemies
would compel us to hasten on.
The thought of a new expedient crossed my mind, which saved us for
some time longer. It was to knock out the end of our car, and drop the
rails on the track as we ran. Soon after, in one of our necessary
stoppages to take care of the telegraph, we loaded on some cross ties,
which we threw out in the same manner. One rail I reserved for a
particular purpose. When we stopped again, I took it, placed one end
under the track, and let the other project upward, jointing toward the
advancing train. It was very nearly effectual. The engineer of the
train in pursuit, who afterward visited us in prison, said that if it
had been only one inch higher, nothing could have saved their train
from wreck, because, being so dark and small, it was not noticed till
too late to stop. However, it was a little too low to hook in the bars
of the cow-catcher, as I intended.
Our enemies pursued us with great determination. One man rode on the
cow-catcher, and, springing off, would throw the obstructions from the
track, and jump on again while they had merely checked the engine. So
great was our velocity, that most of the ties we threw out bounced off
the track; but the few that remained enabled us several times to get
out of sight of them. When this was the case, we would stop, and again
try to take up a rail, which would have given us leisure for the
greater operation of burning a bridge.
By this time we had a few more instruments, which Andrews and Wilson
had simultaneously procured from a switch tender. We worked
faithfully, but each time, before we had loosened a rail, the
inexorable pursuers were again visible.
I then proposed to Andrews a plan that afforded a hope of final
escape. It was to let our engineer take our engine on out of sight,
while we hid on a curve after putting a tie on the track, and waited
for the pursuing train to come up; then, when they checked to remove
the obstruction, we could rush on them, shoot every person on the
engine, reverse it, and let it drive at will back as it came. It would
have chased all the trains following, of which there were now two or
three, back before it, and thus have stopped the whole pursuit for a
time. This would have required quick work, and have been somewhat
dangerous, as the trains were now loaded with soldiers; but it
afforded a _chance_ of success. Andrews said it was a good
plan--looked all around, and then hurried to the engine, and I had no
further opportunity of discussing the subject. After we were in
prison, he said he was very sorry that we had not made the effort.
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