Daring and Suffering:
W >>
William Pittenger >> Daring and Suffering:
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 | 5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14
This would have eclipsed anything Captain Morgan ever
attempted. To think of a parcel of Federal soldiers,
officers and privates, coming down into the heart of the
Confederate States--for they were here in Atlanta and at
Marietta--(some of them got on the train at Marietta that
morning, and others were at Big Shanty;) of playing such a
serious game on the State Road, which is under the control
of our prompt, energetic and sagacious Governor, known as
such all over America; to seize the passenger train on his
road, right at Camp McDonald, where he has a number of
Georgia regiments encamped, and run off with it; to burn the
bridges on the same road, and to go safely through to the
Federal lines--all this would have been a feather in the cap
of the man or men who executed it.
Let this be a warning to the railroad men and everybody else
in the Confederate States. Let an engine never be left alone
a moment. Let additional guards be placed at our bridges.
This is a matter we specially urged in the Confederacy long
ago. We hope it will now be heeded. Further, let a
sufficient guard be placed to watch the government stores in
this city; and let increased vigilance and watchfulness be
put forth by the watchmen. We know one solitary man who is
guarding a house in this city, which contains a lot of
bacon. Two or three men could throttle and gag him, and set
fire to the house at any time; and worse, he conceives that
there is no necessity for a guard, as he is sometimes seen
off duty for a few moments, fully long enough for an
incendiary to burn the house he watches. Let Mr. Shakelford,
whom we know to be watchful and attentive to his duties,
take the responsibility at once of placing a well-armed
guard of sufficient force around every house containing
government stores. Let this be done without waiting for
instructions from Richmond.
One other thought. The press is requested by the Government
to keep silent about the movements of the army, and a great
many things of the greatest interest to our people. It has,
in the main, patriotically complied. We have complied in
most cases, but our judgment was against it all the while.
The plea is that the enemy will get the news if it is
published in our papers. Now, we again ask, what's the use?
The enemy get what information they want. They are with us
and pass among us almost daily. They find out from us what
they want to know, by passing through our country unimpeded.
It is nonsense--it is folly, to deprive our own people of
knowledge they are entitled to and ought to know, for fear
the enemy will find it out. We ought to have a regular
system of passports over all our roads, and refuse to let
any man pass who could not give a good account of himself,
come well vouched for, and make it fully appear that he is
not an enemy, and that he is on legitimate business. This
would keep information from the enemy far more effectually
than any reticence of the press, which ought to lay before
our people the full facts in everything of a public nature.
CHAPTER VI.
Stupendous "Man Hunt"--My Own Adventures--Playing Acrobat--Perilous
Crossing of a River--Hunger--The Bloodhounds--Flying for Life--No Sun
or Star to Guide me--Traveling in a Circle--Nearing Chattanooga--Lost
in Deadened Timber--Glimpse of the Moon--Fatigue Produces
Phantoms--Dreadful Storm--I Sleep and enter Fairy Land--Glorious
Visions--Reality--A Picket--Romance Faded--Horrible Situation--Day
Dawn--No Relief.
On leaving the train, I confess for a moment my heart sunk within me.
I was alone, for no one happened to strike off in the same direction I
did. I knew not where I was--whether fifteen or fifty miles from
Chattanooga[2]--neither had I the most indefinite idea of the lay of
the country. I only knew that north or northwest would bring me to our
forces; but the sun did not shine, to give me even the points of the
compass.
[2] The description of places and distances given in the preceding
chapter, was mostly obtained from Confederates, who afterward visited
and talked with us.
I supposed that the country would be aroused, and a vigorous pursuit
made, but my worst anticipations proved far short of the reality. It
was Saturday, the 12th of April, and was a general muster-day for the
conscripts over the whole country; but as soon as the news of our raid
was received, drill was suspended, and every one turned out in search
of us. Then was organized the most stupendous _man-hunt_ that ever
took place in the South. Horsemen hurried at full speed along every
road, and proclaimed the news as they went. Each planter, with his
dependents, for at least fifty miles in every direction, took his
bloodhounds and scoured the woods. Every cross-road, every river,
ford, or ferry, was at once picketed by bodies of cavalry. Large
rewards were offered, and thousands of soldiers pursued us, in
addition to the universal uprising of the citizens. The only partially
known object of the expedition imparted a tone of romantic
exaggeration to it, and made the people doubly anxious to solve the
mystery. The feeling in northern Georgia may be best conceived by
imagining what would be the excitement in the immediate vicinity, if a
party of Confederates would seize a train near Philadelphia, and
attempt to run it through Baltimore, especially if the movements of
their armies should be such as would lead to the belief that this was
only _part_ of a grand scheme!
I will now give a personal sketch of my own adventures after leaving
the train. It was still moving when I jumped off,--fast enough to make
me perform several inconvenient gyrations on reaching the ground. Most
of the party were ahead of me. Three had taken the eastern side of the
road, and the remainder the opposite side. I followed the example of
the latter, and soon reached the cover of the stunted pines that grew
near the road. Feeling the necessity of getting away as far as
possible before the enemy could pursue us on foot, I struck off at a
rapid rate.
Soon I passed the little brook that ran along the foot of the hill,
and pressed on up its steep side. There were three of my comrades not
far from me on the left, but I could not overtake them, and still
proceeded alone. I knew that pursuit would be rapid and instantaneous.
I seemed to hear the tread of cavalry in every breeze that sighed
through the branches of the naked forest!
The country was rough and uneven. On the bottoms, and by the streams,
were a few pines; but on the mountain spurs, which here are a low
continuation of the Cumberland range, the timber is mostly oak and
other varieties, which were not then in foliage. This was a great
disadvantage, because it left no hiding place, and exposed us to the
view of the watchful eyes of our enemies.
Soon I found myself in the bend of a little river that empties into
the Tennessee at Chattanooga. It was swollen by continuous rains, and
for some time I searched along its bank for a place to cross the
turbulent stream; but, seeing none, and believing that death was
behind, I committed myself to its angry current, and, after being
thoroughly soaked, and almost washed away, I succeeded in reaching the
opposite side. Here the bank rose in an almost perpendicular precipice
of more than a hundred feet in hight. I dared not recross the stream,
for I knew the enemy could not be far behind, and, therefore, I
clambered up the precipice. Several times when near the top did I feel
my grasp giving way; but as often did some bush or projecting rock
afford me the means of saving myself. At last, after the most imminent
danger, I reached the top utterly exhausted, pulled myself out of
sight, and breathed for a while.
I had had no breakfast or dinner, and had spent not only that day, but
many preceding ones, in the most fatiguing exertion. I was very faint
and sick, and almost out of hope. I had no guide even in the direction
of home, for the sun still lingered behind an impenetrable veil.
While I thus lay and mused on the unenviable situation in which I
found myself placed, a sound reached my ears that again sent the blood
leaping wildly through my veins. It was the distant baying of a
bloodhound! Never again will I read the story of human beings, of any
color, pursued by these revolting instruments of man's most savage
"inhumanity to man," with indifference!
I started to my feet, and a few moments' listening confirmed my first
impression. It was true. They were after us with their bloodhounds!
not one pack alone, but all in the country, as the widening circle,
from which echoed their dismal baying, revealed but too plainly. There
was no longer safety in idleness, and I at once started up, and
hurried off, as nearly at right angles to the railroad as I could
ascertain by the whistling of the trains, which seemed to be moving in
great numbers, and much excited. The fearful barking of the dogs also
gave me a clue to avoid them. Faint and weak as I was, excitement
supplied the place of strength, and I rapidly placed a considerable
distance between myself and pursuers.
Away across the hills and streams I sped, I knew not how far--I only
knew that the noise of the dogs grew fainter and fainter as the
evening wore on. I had distanced them, and began to breathe freer. I
even indulged the hope of being able ultimately to work my way to the
lines, and still think I might have done so, had the weather been
clear enough to permit my traveling by the sun or stars.
As I descended the long slope of a wooded hill into a wild, solitary
valley, I saw a rude hut, and a man in the garden beside it. I
approached him to inquire the road to Chattanooga, though that was the
last place I wished to go. The answer was, that it was only eight
miles. This was nearer than I liked to be, as I rightly judged the
pursuit would be most vigorous in that vicinity. However, I continued
my journey in that direction, until out of sight, and then climbed up
the hill at right angles to my former course. I traveled this way for
some time, when an incident occurred that would have been amusing, had
it been less vexatious.
I had often heard that persons who were lost would naturally travel in
a circle, but did not attach a great deal of credit to the assertion.
Now I had the proof. I had crossed a road, and left it for something
like an hour, during which time I walked very fast, when, to my
surprise, I came to the same place again.
I was considerably annoyed to thus lose my labor, but struck over the
hill in what I supposed to be the right direction. Judge of my
astonishment when, after an hour or more of hard walking, I found
myself at precisely the same spot again! So much time had been lost,
that I now could hear the bloodhounds once more. I was perplexed
beyond measure. A few steps further brought me to the _same river_ I
had crossed hours before. In sheer desperation I took the first road I
came to, and followed it a long time, almost regardless of where it
should lead, or whom I should meet.
Thus I pressed forward till twilight was deepening into darkness, when
I met a negro driving a team. From him I learned that I was within
four miles of Chattanooga; words can not describe the tide of
vexation, disappointment, and anger that swept over my breast, when I
found that in spite of my most determined efforts I was steadily
approaching the lion's mouth. But it was no use to give way to
despair. Learning from the negro the direction of both Ringgold and
Chattanooga, I resolved to make an effort to reach the Tennessee
river some eight or ten miles below Chattanooga. For this purpose, I
struck across the fields in the proper course.
For some time now I did well enough, but before long I came to a large
field of deadened timber. When I had crossed this, I was again
completely lost. Soon, however, I reached a road which seemed to lead
right, which I followed with renewed vigor for several miles. At last
I met three men on horseback; it was too dark to tell whether they
were negroes or white men, but I ventured to ask them:
"How far is it to Chattanooga?"
"_Three miles!_"
"Is this the road?"
"Yes, sah! _right ahead_."
I had afterwards reason to believe that these were men sent out to
arrest us, and that they did not stop me just because I was going
right to Chattanooga!
But it was evident that I was again on the wrong road. Indeed, it
seemed as if I was so hopelessly bewildered that it was impossible for
me to travel any _but_ the wrong road. As soon as the horsemen got out
of sight, I turned and followed them three or four miles, when I came
to a large road running at right angles with my own, which terminated
where it joined the other. I deliberated for some time as to which end
of this new road I should take. I had no guide to direct me, for my
old road was too crooked even to give me the direction of the dreaded
Chattanooga.
Many a time have I wished for a sight of the moon and stars. Long
before the clash of arms was heard in our land, before the thunder and
the wailing of battle had filled a nation with weeping, have I waited
and wished for the parting away of the tedious clouds, that, with my
telescope, I might gaze on the wonders and beauties of the worlds
above. But never did I bend a more anxious eye to the darkened
firmament, than in my solitary wanderings over the Georgia hills that
memorable night. But all in vain; no North Star appeared to point with
beam of hope to the land of the free.
At length I started off on the road that I thought most likely to lead
me in the right direction; but as usual I had the misfortune of being
wrong; for after I had gone a long distance, the moon broke through a
rift in the clouds, and for a moment poured her light down on the dark
forest through which I was passing. That one glance was enough to show
me that I was heading back toward the railroad I had left in the
morning. Wearily I turned and retraced my tedious steps.
One of my feet had been injured by an accident three mouths before,
and now pained me excessively. Still I dragged myself along. My nerves
had become completely exhausted by the long-continued tension they had
sustained, and now played me many fantastic tricks, which became more
vivid as the night waned away. I passed the place where I had made the
wrong choice of roads, and still toiled on.
The rain fell in torrents now. I was thinly clad, and as the wind,
which was blowing quite hard, drove the falling showers against me, my
teeth chattered, and I shivered to the bone. I passed many houses, and
feared the barking of the dogs might betray me to watchers within; but
my fears were groundless. The storm, which was then howling fearfully
through the trees, served to keep most of those who sought our lives,
within doors. Even the barking of the bloodhounds was heard but
seldom, and then far in the distance. I seemed to have the lonely,
fearful, stormy night to myself.
At last all thoughts gave way to the imperative necessity of repose. I
reeled to a large log that lay by the side of the road, on the edge
of a small patch of woodland, and crawling close under the side of it,
not for shelter from the driving rain, but for concealment from my
worse-dreaded human foes, I slept in peace.
Up to this time the image of that terrible night is graven on my
memory with a scorching pen of fire. After this it changes, and with
the exception of a few real incidents that aroused me from my trance,
it floats before me in more than the voluptuous splendor of an
opium-dream. The cause of this change is a curious chapter in mental
philosophy. It was no doubt purely physical, resulting from want of
sleep, fatigue, dampness, lack of food, and intense mental exertion.
But let me narrate facts.
When I awoke, it was with a full realization of my position. But in
addition to this, I seemed to hear some one whisper, as plainly as
ever I heard human voice:
"Shoot him! shoot him! Let us shoot him before he wakes!"
My first impression was, that a party of rebels had discovered my
hiding-place, and were about to murder me in my sleep, to save
themselves further trouble. But the next thought brought a new
suspicion, and I cautiously opened my eyes to test it, and see if my
senses were really playing false.
Directly before me stood a small tree. The first glance showed a tree
and nothing more. The next showed a score of angels, all clad in
softest outlines, their heads nodding with feathery plumes above all
beauty, and their wings slowly waving with borders of violet and
pearl. The whole forest was suddenly transformed into a paradise of
radiant glory, in which moved celestial beings of every order, all
instinct with life, blushing with love, and bending their kindest
regards on me. Ladies, too, were there, fairer than ever walked the
fields of earth, embowered in roses; little cherubs with laughing
faces, on cloudlets of amber and gold, floated around. Indeed, all
that the imagination could conceive of beauty was comprised in that
one gorgeous, glorious vision.
The most singular fact of all was, that although the brain and eye
were thus impressed with that which had no real existence, I was
perfectly calm and self-possessed, knowing the whole thing to be but a
pleasing illusion. I did not in the least fear these figures of the
brain, but on the contrary found them pleasant company. Not always,
however, did they personate the same characters. Occasionally they
would change to the old feudal knights, sometimes on horseback,
sometimes on foot, but always clad in glittering armor.
The finest landscapes would start up from the cold, dull hills around,
like mirages in the desert; panoramas of the most vivid action passed
before me; even language was not denied to my visitants, whose voices
were inexpressibly melodious; every thought that passed through my
mind seemed sounded audibly at my side.
Thus through the visions of night and darkness I passed rapidly on,
for now I felt refreshed and endowed with new strength. Even the
merciless pelting of the cold rain seemed pleasant and luxurious as a
cool bath in the parching heats of harvest. But beyond these
illusions, another faculty seemed to penetrate and show me, though but
dimly, the true face of the country.
Once the two became mingled, and very nearly involved me in a serious
difficulty. At a cross-road, a considerable distance ahead, I saw what
I at first supposed to be some more of my spectral friends, standing
around a fire, the ruddy blaze of which served to render them clearly
visible. They were not quite so beautiful as those I had seen before,
but still I advanced carelessly toward them, and would probably have
continued to do so, until too late for retreat, had not my progress
been arrested by a sound of all others the least romantic. It was the
squealing of a pig they had caught, and were killing, preparatory to
roasting in the fire.
This at once drove away the seraphs and the angels, and left me in
full possession of my faculties. I listened, and soon became convinced
that they were a picket, sent out there to watch for just such persons
as myself. They had some dogs with them, which, fortunately, were too
much absorbed in the dying agonies of the poor pig to give attention
to me.
I crawled cautiously away, and made a long circuit through the fields.
A dog made himself exceedingly annoying by following and barking after
me. I did not apprehend danger from him, for I yet had my trusty
revolver, and had managed to keep it dry all the time; but I feared he
would attract the attention of the picket, who might easily have
captured me, for I was too weary to elude them.
At last he left me, and I again returned to the road. I had not gone
far till I came to three horses hobbled down, which, no doubt,
belonged to the picket behind, and had to make another circuit to
avoid driving them away before me. On again reaching the road, I
pressed on as fast as possible, hoping, before the morning light, to
be beyond the circle of guarded roads, and the line of planters who
were scouring the woods with their dogs. It was a vain hope, but I
knew not then the gigantic plan of search which had been organized.
The visions which had made the lonely forest almost a paradise, now
grew dimmer and dimmer. The roses faded, and all the forms of beauty
vanished into thin air.
The chill horror of my situation froze deeper into my veins. I would
find myself walking along, almost asleep, then would wander a short
distance from the road to a secluded spot,--throw myself down on the
flooded ground, and sleep a few minutes; then would awaken, almost
drowned by the pitiless rain, and so sore and benumbed that I could
scarcely stagger to my feet, and plod onward.
Thus that dreary night wore on; it seemed an age of horror, and placed
a shuddering gulf between my present life and the past. But at last
the cold gray of a clouded morning broke through the weeping sky. Day
brought no relief. Every one I saw seemed to be a foe. Still I did not
avoid them. I carefully washed all traces of that terrible night from
my clothes. The wet did not matter, for the rain was still falling
fast enough to account for that.
CHAPTER VII.
Sabbath--Continuous Rain--Press Onward--Observed--Arrested--Curious
Examination--Equivocating for Life--Plans Foiled by Unexpected
News--Plundered--Jail--Terrible Reflections--New and Hopeful
Resolve--Unwelcome Visitors--Vigilance Committee Disappointed--Ordered
to Chattanooga--A Mob--Chained to the Carriage--Escort--The
Journey--Musings--Arrival--Another Mob--Benevolent Gentleman(?)--General
Leadbetter--Andrews.
It was Sabbath morning, but it came not to me with the blessed
calmness and peace that accompany it in my own sweet Ohio. I saw the
people going to church, and longed to go with them, but dared not
encounter the prying eyes that would have greeted a stranger, even if
I had wished thus to loiter on my journey.
But why should I dwell longer on this dreary morning? why linger over
its miseries, deepened by the faintness of the hope that they would
ever cease, and give me again to the comfort and love of home? I
wandered on till about noon, when I was observed by some one on the
watch for strangers. This was just beyond Lafayette, Georgia. A party
of pursuit was at once organized numbering twenty or more. I knew
nothing of my danger, till they were within about fifty yards of me,
when they ordered me to stop.
I put my hand on my pistol, and looked round. The country was level
and open for some distance, and I was too weary to run, even if some
of the party had not been mounted; therefore I made a virtue of
necessity, and stopped, asking what they wanted. They replied that
they wanted to talk with me awhile. Soon they came up, and a little,
conceited man, who had the epaulets of a lieutenant, but whom they
called major, undertook to question me. He was very bland about it,
and apologized hugely for interrupting me, but said if I was a
patriotic man, as he had no doubt I was, I would willingly undergo a
slight inconvenience for the good of the Confederacy. I endeavored to
imitate his politeness, and begged him to proceed in the performance
of his duty, assuring him that he would find nothing wrong. He then
searched me very closely for papers, looking over my money and pistol,
but found nothing suspicious.
He next asked me who I was, where I came from, and where I was going.
I told him that I was a citizen of Kentucky, who had been disgusted
with the tyranny of Lincoln, and was ready to fight against it; that I
came to Chattanooga, but would not enlist at that place, because most
of the troops there were conscripts, and the few volunteers were very
poorly armed. I told him all about where I had been in Chattanooga,
and the troops there, for I had heard a good deal said about them as I
went down on the cars to Marietta, on the previous Friday evening. I
had also heard them praising the First Georgia, which was with
Beauregard, and now told the Major that I wanted to join it. He then
asked why I did not proceed at once to Corinth, without going so far
around the country. I alleged that General Mitchel was in the way at
Huntsville, and that I was merely making a circuit far enough around
to be out of the danger of capture.
This seemed to be perfectly satisfactory to the little man, and
turning to the crowd he said:
"We may as well let this fellow go on, for he seems to be all right."
These words rejoiced me, but my joy was premature. A dark-complexioned
man, who sat on his horse, with his hat drawn down over his brows,
raised his eyes slowly, and drawled out:
"Well, y-e-s! Perhaps we'd as well take him back to town, and if all's
right, maybe we can help him on to Corinth."
This was rather more help than I wanted, but it was useless to demur.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 | 5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14