OTHER CAPTURES.
As all the members of our party were ultimately assembled at
Chattanooga, so that from that time our stories flow together, it is now
well to bring the separated threads of narration down to that point. One
of the shortest and most lamentable was that of Jacob Parrot and Samuel
Robinson, both of the Thirty-third Ohio Regiment. When they left the
train in company they reached the woods, but on the wrong side of the
road. After being concealed for a short time they came back to the
railroad, but in attempting to cross it were observed by four citizens
and captured. They were immediately conducted to Ringgold, where a
company of Confederate soldiers was stationed. A course of questioning
here began, but Parrot refused to tell anything. He was but little over
eighteen years of age, very boyish-looking, and entirely destitute of
education. So they seem to have thought him a favorable subject for
receiving the treatment applied to those fugitive slaves who hesitate in
answering questions. He was taken out of the room by an officer and four
men, who stripped him and, holding him down over a large stone,
administered over one hundred lashes on his bare back, leaving scars
which the writer has often seen, and which he will carry to his grave.
Three times the whipping was suspended, the poor boy let up and asked if
he was ready to confess, and on his refusal he was thrown down again,
and the torture continued. They wished to force from him the name of the
engineer and the particulars of the expedition. But all their efforts
were in vain. The crowd procured a rope and were about to hang him, but
an officer of higher rank came up and prevented this final barbarity.
The wonderful fortitude of the poor boy was of no avail. He and his
comrade were caught so near the place where they left the disabled
engine, and they were so utterly unable to give any account of the
manner in which they came to be there, that both would no doubt have
perished if Robinson had not--after first trying the Fleming County,
Kentucky, story, and being falsely informed that Parrot had confessed
everything--finally given his name and regiment, with the general
outline of the expedition. After this confession they were imprisoned
for a time in Ringgold, and afterwards brought to Chattanooga.
D. A. Dorsey furnishes me an account of his adventures, which were in
some respects peculiar. My own special friend, George D. Wilson, was
with him, as well as William Bensinger and Robert Buffum. I use
Dorsey's own graphic language,--
"We fled from our broken down iron-horse in a northeasterly
direction towards the adjacent hills. These were sparsely
studded with timber, but almost entirely destitute of
undergrowth, and, of course, afforded but little opportunity to
hide from our pursuers. The latter were following upon our
trail, well armed and very numerous. Here occurred the first of
many an amusing scene, such as often light up the most horrible
situation. Buffum had worn a peculiar long gray coat, reaching
nearly to his feet, of which he had been very proud. Now he
found it a sore impediment to his precipitate flight, and
unbuttoning it, ran right out of it, leaving it spread out on
the old dry weeds behind him,--not even stopping to get the
bottle out of the pocket, in which he and I had been deeply
interested for the past twenty-four hours.
"On we went, or rather flew, until we had distanced our
pursuers, and found ourselves in a denser forest. It was very
cloudy. The sun was completely hidden, and we could not tell
which was north, south, east, or west. We wandered on until
near midnight, when we came to a log hut in a small opening,
surrounded by a dilapidated rail-fence. The light of a blazing
fire shone through the cracks in the wall, and we walked to the
door and knocked repeatedly. Getting no answer, Wilson pulled
the latch-string and walked in. There a tall Georgian lay
stretched at full length on the floor, with his bare feet to
the fire, almost undressed, and suffering all the agonies of
colic. Over him bent his better half, busily engaged in
administering hot ash poultices. Of course, under such
circumstances, our application for food availed nothing, and we
were obliged to plod on through the darkness, mud, and rain.
Before morning we came to another cabin, which we did not
enter, but borrowed a pail of milk from the porch, and taking
it to the woods, speedily devoured it. Then we wandered on,
hoping for clear sky, but the clouds were unbroken, and our
wandering at random continued all the morning.
"About ten o'clock, in the forenoon, we saw some persons on
horseback, who were evidently hunting for us. We managed to
elude them, and getting back to ground they had passed over,
concealed ourselves by lying down. Several other parties were
seen, but by shifting our position we avoided them for some
hours. The increasing number of our pursuers, however,
convinced us that we were in the most deadly peril.
"'Oh, ye woods, spread your branches apace!
To your deepest recesses I fly;
I would hide with the beasts of the chase,
I would vanish from every eye.
"'And hark! and hark! the deep-mouthed bark
Comes nigher still and nigher.
Burst on the path a dark blood-hound,
His tawny muzzle tracked the ground,
And his red eye shot fire.'
"These words of the poet were fully echoed by my feelings. The
much-dreaded blood-hound was upon our trail. We discovered
three of them descending a hill over which we had recently
passed, right on our track, and four men behind them. As soon
as the latter discovered us, one of their number hallooed, and
was answered by shouts in every direction. This demonstrated
that we were surrounded. We advanced and boldly met the first
four, and endeavored to deceive them as to our real character.
Our denials of being the men who captured the train the day
before were all to no purpose. Soon we were surrounded by at
least fifty men, armed with shot-guns, rifles, and pistols. One
man carried a long rope. To say they were furious would be a
mild description. They demanded, in all kinds of profane and
vindictive language, our immediate surrender. We were separated
into two squads. Buffum and Bensinger stood together, and did
what they could to prove that they were victims of a case of
mistaken identity, Wilson and I were a few yards distant, and,
as he was the better talker, I left it all to him. He protested
that we were not the men they wanted, but citizens of Virginia
hunting for fugitive slaves. He told a very nice and plausible
story,--I thought it ought to have convinced any reasonable
man,--but it was in vain."
[This was the only case, except one, so far as I know, where the
Kentucky story was varied from, and even then Buffum and Bensinger were
using it. Had Wilson and Dorsey been alone they might have succeeded
better. Dorsey continues:]
"We had to surrender or fight. The latter course would have
been madness. We handed over our revolvers and pocket-knives on
demand, and then commenced the most terrible threats of
vengeance. A young blood, who appeared not more than sixteen,
put a pistol at Wilson's head, and would, no doubt, have shot
him had he not been prevented by one they called 'major.' A
rough fellow they called 'Black Billy' presented a
double-barreled shot-gun to my breast, swore he had sixteen
buckshot in each barrel, and unless I made a 'clean breast' of
it he would blow them all through me. This roused my
indignation, and considering my life worth nothing if I
confessed, while a confession might implicate others, I said,
'Gentlemen, we have surrendered, and you have our arms. We are
in your power. If you want to shoot, just shoot!'
[Illustration: LIEUTENANT D. A. DORSEY.
(One of the Adventurers.)
Page 156.]
"Throwing my breast forward, in full expectation of receiving
the shot, I was surprised to see him drop the butt of his gun
to the ground and make arrangements for tying our hands. Having
thus secured us, they conducted us to a house about a mile
away, and gave us a pretty good dinner.
"Here we learned that a reward of one hundred dollars had been
offered for each of the 'engine thieves.' We also learned that
we were only nine miles from Ringgold, which convinced us that
much of our travelling the night before must have been on the
_back track_. We were certainly not as far from Ringgold when
captured as we had been when the previous night set in.
"After dinner we were taken to Ringgold on foot, and _put into
jail_,--the first one into which I had ever set my foot. It was
Sunday, April 13, 1862. This same evening we were all removed
by rail to Marietta, Georgia, where we arrived about midnight,
and were there placed in a literal dungeon of the worst
character,--dark, dreary, damp, and swarming with rats and
smaller vermin. From this point we had started northward for
the capture of the train two days before with high hopes. What
adventures since that time!
"We hoped when day dawned that there would be some light in
this filthy hole, but we were disappointed, for, although we
could distinguish the difference between day and night, yet not
enough light entered this dismal place to enable us to
recognize our most intimate friend!
"A heavy guard of six hundred cadets was placed around us for
the purpose of keeping down the mob. We were told that a whole
company of rebel soldiers had left camp at Big Shanty to come
to Marietta to lynch us, but were overtaken by their officers
when about half-way to Marietta and dissuaded from so rash an
act, the officers arguing that we were soldiers, and it would
not do for them to thus violate the rules of war, and also
assuring them that we would be properly dealt with, and, in due
time, executed. They thus succeeded in turning them back to
camp.
"We remained here a whole day and two nights. On Tuesday we
heard a strange noise,--a horrible clanking and rattling of
chains, while a footstep was heard mounting the outside
staircase, which was the only one. Into the hall the jailer
came (for it was he), and, opening the trap-door, ran a ladder
down into our dungeon. Then he called Wilson up into the hall,
and put one end of a new trace-chain round his neck, and locked
it with a padlock, while he also placed a pair of handcuffs on
his hands. I was then called, the other end of the trace-chain
put around my neck, and my hands secured in the same manner. We
were thus coupled together by the neck, as well as handcuffed.
Bensinger and Buffum were used in the same way. Then Hawkins
and Porter, of whose presence we had no previous knowledge,
were called out, chained and ironed in the same manner. We were
then conducted to a box-car, which had in it some bales of
cotton, and started northward. The sergeant in charge of us
stopped the party at Dalton, and awaited the arrival of the
officer in command, who was to come on the next train. It was
night, and, although our guard was as kind as they well could
be under the circumstances, they had no means of feeding us. A
mob surrounded the depot and threatened to hang us, but the
guards managed, not without serious difficulty, to keep them
off. Here we had a most grateful surprise,--one of the few
really pleasant incidents which mitigated the horrors of our
experience. A few Dalton ladies, with their servants, came into
the waiting-room, and supplied us with a first-class supper. We
relished it hugely, for we had been altogether without dinner,
and our breakfast was of the scantiest character. This was the
first meal we had ever eaten with chains and irons upon us,
and, as the reader may judge, we felt and acted very awkwardly
with these useless appendages. The ladies who had been so
bountiful, requested some of our party to stand up that they
might have a good look at them. They complied, in pairs at a
time, and, when the other four had passed inspection and
resumed their seats, their little servant-boy came with the
same request to Wilson and myself. Wilson very politely
declined, instructing the boy to 'tell the ladies that we are
not here on exhibition, but, if they will come over this way,
we will be glad to see and talk with them.' The offer was
accepted, and two, a matron and young lady, apparently mother
and daughter, came to our side of the room, and we had a
conversation long to be remembered. They sympathized with us,
and wept freely. With us the wound was too deep for tears. The
ladies returned to the other part of the room when the
conversation was ended, but took seats, and remained until the
expected train arrived and we started for Chattanooga. All this
time the mob was howling and cursing and threatening outside,
and we flatter ourselves that the ladies stayed to exert a
restraining influence, and hinder them from proceeding to
extremities. Before we left, the younger lady referred to sent
the little boy to me _with a pink rose_, with one row of leaves
around it, and her name.
"The presentation of that rose seemed to exasperate those of
the mob who saw it, and I am free to confess that I regretted
the action, for at one time it seemed as if they would break in
and seize us. But the firmness of the sergeant kept them back.
I regret that I was so unchivalrous as to soon forget the name
given, but in our circumstances who would try to remember a
name, even that of a beautiful lady? The only encouragement as
to our prospects we had yet received was that our fate would be
a warning to our comrades in arms, none of whom would venture
to engage in such another foolhardy expedition. The flower
served more to recall home and friends than to awaken hope of
any availing friendship and help in that part of the country.
It was twisted round and round between my closely-cuffed
hands--for the cuffs I wore had no connecting links, and
fitted very tight--until one by one the leaves all fell off,
and when the last was gone I got Wilson to put the stem in my
pocket, and kept it a long time.
"We arrived at Chattanooga next morning. There was again the
inevitable crowd to welcome us. 'Will those hounds hunt?'
bawled out a coarse-voiced individual, as they led us by our
neck-chains through the crowded street.
"The landlord of the hotel to which we were taken to await
orders was a Union man, whom I have met since under very
different circumstances. At his own expense, and on his own
responsibility, he ordered his servants to bring us a good
breakfast. We had by this time got on good terms with the
clever guards who brought us from Marietta, and parted from
them with real regret. They requested to have our names written
in the little diaries many of them carried. Putting the book in
one cuffed hand and the pencil in the other, they were amazed
to see how well we could write under such circumstances.
"The next scene in our strange history was a terrible contrast
to the peaceful occupation of eating a good breakfast and
writing our names in diaries. We were marched to what our new
conductor called 'the hole.' From the upper room of a prison a
ladder was put down through a trap-door, and we were ordered to
descend into what I can only call _hell_, for it was that to
us. The ladder drawn up, the trap-door again fallen, and now in
the murky gloom came whispered recognitions from our comrades,
the warm clasp of friendly but ironed hands. Andrews and all
his men except two--Mark Wood and Alfred Wilson--were now
gathered together."
It will be remembered that J. E. Porter and M. J. Hawkins were not on
the captured train at all, but joined Dorsey and his comrades at
Marietta. We abridge the account of their mishaps given by Porter:
"Through some mistake or negligence of the hotel waiter we were
not called in time for the train" (on the morning of the
capture), "though we got to the depot in time to see it pass
out of sight. I cannot describe my feelings at that moment....
We could hardly make up our minds how to meet the emergency.
"Then we leisurely strolled about the town, expecting every
moment to hear of the capture of the train. Nor did we have to
wait long, for the news soon reached town that a train had been
captured at Big Shanty while the passengers and crew were at
breakfast, and that it was done so quickly and easily that they
could not imagine who did the deed or what it meant. Soon
everything was wild with excitement and the town was thronged
with excited rebels, waiting to hear further developments....
Hawkins and I concluded to 'skip out' for a time. After
reaching a piece of woods we came together and congratulated
ourselves on our success thus far, but what to do next we
hardly knew.... After much hesitation we determined to go to
Big Shanty, or Camp McDonald, as it was a rebel camp of
instruction, and join the rebel army."
This was to put their heads into the lion's mouth. Their best course
would have been to have leisurely worked their way southward instead of
going where the excitement was highest. But it is always easy to be wise
after the event.
"We came in sight of the camp late in the day, and marched into
camp and reported at headquarters. Here we found several rebel
officers, one of whom, who bore the marks of a colonel, turned
his attention to us. After a short interview, which seemed
plausible to him, he ordered us to report to the commanding
officer of the Ninth Georgia Battalion for enlistment. One of
the companies not being full was called into line, and took a
vote whether or not we should be received into the company. The
vote was unanimous in our favor, and we, after giving
fictitious names, were assigned to a certain mess for our
suppers. After supper we made the acquaintance of several of
our new messmates, relating dismal stories of our treatment by
the 'Yankee' hirelings in Kentucky, which made a good
impression on our comrades as to our loyalty to the
Confederacy.
"Everything went right with us until in some manner it leaked
out among the rebels that the Yankee raiders, by mistake or
accident, had left two of their party at Marietta. How this
information got out I never learned, but it could not be
otherwise than that some of our party had indiscreetly told
more than he ought when captured. Who the man was we never
learned."
Then followed the usual questionings, ending in the acknowledgment by
these two of their share in the enterprise and their position as
soldiers. It is not necessary to suppose, as Porter does, that one of
the two captured on Saturday--it could have been no others, for Porter
and Hawkins themselves were arrested Sunday morning--gave information of
two of our number being left behind. Porter and Hawkins told the same
Kentucky story,--even enlarged upon it to their rebel messmates, and
this was enough to direct suspicion towards them. Then when examined
separately by the rebels it was impossible that they could avoid
becoming entangled in their stories. After examination these two were
committed to the Marietta jail, where they met Dorsey and his comrades,
as narrated above.
The last one of these narratives that our space will permit us to insert
is the most eventful of all. Alfred Wilson and Mark Wood were the last
of the whole party to be captured. The story is told in the most graphic
manner by Wilson in his published account of the expedition. I would
gladly give it in his own words but for its great length, and for the
further fact that he gives literally many of his conversations with the
rebels, in which both parties indulge in no small amount of profanity.
As Wilson ran from the abandoned engine, of which he had been the
fireman, he heard his name called, and, halting a moment, was joined by
Wood, the only native Englishman of the party, and from that time the
two became inseparable companions. They gained an open field on a long
slope in front of them, but did not feel safe in trying to cross it,
especially as they were out of breath and the enemy not far away. They
fortunately saw where a tree had been cut down, probably the preceding
summer, and the brush lay scattered around with the dead leaves still
clinging to it. Wilson adroitly covered Wood with some of the brush,
making the heap so that it would not attract attention, and then crawled
under beside him. There they waited with revolvers drawn, expecting to
be discovered, and determined, in that event, to fight to the death. The
rebels came very near, so that in some instances they might have been
touched by the hidden fugitives. Their peril was extreme, but the
pursuers were watching the men at a distance rather than looking for
those at their feet. Much of the rebel conversation could be overheard.
One of two stalwart pursuers, armed with muskets, while just by the
brush-heap, cried out,--
"There goes two of them! Come on; let's go for them!"
"Let's get more help," responded the other.
"But you see they have no guns," urged the first, and they rushed out of
hearing.
These two poor men remained in that one place a long while before they
dared venture forth. Their escape from detection was little less than
miraculous. So many persons had trampled over the ground where they left
the train that the dogs could do nothing at tracking them, or their
refuge would soon have been discovered. The incessant rain added very
much to their discomfort, as it did in the case of all the fugitives,
but helped to throw the dogs from the track.
After dark, however, they crawled out from the brush-heap, and could
scarcely walk. After looking about, they decided to take an opposite
course from what they had seen their comrades take, which was in the
main westward from Chattanooga. They wished to pass far to the eastward
of that town, and knew that they must carefully avoid it.
The remainder of that night they travelled rapidly, and about daybreak
found an old barn and hid themselves in a mow of corn-fodder, where they
slept comfortably until about one o'clock, when they were discovered by
two women who were hunting eggs. The latter were greatly frightened, and
ran to the house which stood near, but Wilson and Wood followed, said
they had been in pursuit of the train-robbers, and preferred sleeping in
the barn to disturbing anybody at the house. Dinner was over, but some
corn-bread and buttermilk was furnished. This was the first food since
leaving the train, and it was most acceptable. They paid for it, and
went on their way greatly refreshed.
But they did not think it prudent to go far before seeking concealment
in a dense thicket to await the approach of night. A squad of mounted
soldiers went by on the road they had just left, apparently searching
for some one. At nightfall they shaped their course, as nearly as they
could, towards the Tennessee River, east of Chattanooga. They avoided
the roads, but narrowly escaped running into a picket. At dawn the foot
of the mountains was reached, and the wanderers breathed freer than in
the open country. They witnessed the rising of the sun, and were greatly
cheered by its genial warmth. Sleep and weariness claimed them until
nearly night, and with darkness they started on again. It was hard work,
feeling the way over rocks, climbing precipitous places, and descending
the steep inclines through bushes and briers.
On Wednesday morning mountains were on all sides, with no sign of human
life or habitation. They took a nap in the warm sun, but hunger soon
roused them. That one meal of corn-bread and buttermilk was all the food
they had eaten since their start on Saturday.
Thus pressed by hunger, they resolved to travel day as well as night, as
in that lonely region it was not likely they would be molested. In the
afternoon they reached the brow of a high mountain, overlooking a lovely
and peopled valley. Almost perishing with hunger, they concluded to
venture down and apply for food at a hut a little separated from the
rest. A young woman appeared at the door, and, after hearing their
story, proceeded to get them a meal. Wilson asked the way to the next
town, the name of which he pretended he could not just speak, but she
helped him out by mentioning--"Cleveland?" They feasted on ham, eggs,
and rye coffee, and went on their way rejoicing.
Wilson determined to have a map of the country. So leaving Wood outside
well hidden, he ventured into Cleveland, and bought "Mitchell's
Geography and Atlas," the work, as he thought, of his commanding
general! He returned to Wood, tore out such portions of the map as they
needed, and threw the rest away. They were now able to form an
intelligible plan, though the one selected was full of peril. Wilson
seems to have been fond of the water, and certainly managed well upon
it. He wished to reach the Tennessee River, procure a boat of some
kind, and float down the river past Chattanooga to some point within the
Federal lines.
By evening the travellers had reached the limits of that mountain ridge,
and came down again into the valley. Another secluded log house induced
them to apply for food without waiting till they were on the verge of
starvation. Here they were very fortunate. Only a noble-looking lady was
at home at first. She heard their story, but made up her mind that they
were Union men, and in that belief gave them the best fare she had, and
would accept no pay for it. She and her husband, who afterwards came in,
gave them all the information in their power as to the best way of
avoiding the rebel cavalry in the neighborhood, and asked no confidence
in return.
But misfortunes were before them. They now passed through a
thickly-peopled valley, observing the greatest caution. Notwithstanding
their vigilance they were suddenly halted by Colonel Snow's cavalry,--a
company of rebel home-guards, whose principal business it was to keep
down the Union men of the vicinity. By shrewd diplomacy they succeeded
in making the captain believe that they belonged to the neighboring town
of Harrison. While accepting this statement he insisted that they were
trying to run away to the Union army, but agreed that they might return
to their homes if they would first take the oath of allegiance to the
Confederacy, and then be ready to join his company when he called for
their services. The oath was a bitter pill, but they swallowed it, and
were set at liberty.
They might now have taken a very safe course up the line of the
Cumberland Mountains into Kentucky, but Wilson's mind was fixed upon
getting a boat and going down the Tennessee, which was almost in the
opposite direction. Their thoughts recurred to the Union family where
they had been fed the evening before, and they resolved to return
thither, and, revealing their true character, try to get help in
crossing the valley to the river.
As was safest, they came up to the hut in the night. The man admitted
Wilson, while the woman stood with a rifle cocked, to kill him if he
proved to be an enemy. Wood had been left at some little distance
outside, so as to excite less alarm. Having been sworn themselves that
day they were in the mood for continuing that business, and therefore
swore the man to be true to them. He kept his oath far better than they
did theirs. He told them they must not be seen about his house, and led
them to an abandoned hut, which stood in a secluded spot on a remote
part of his farm. He then furnished them with a bundle of quilts, and
told them to stay in the cellar and be perfectly quiet, assuring them
that they would be safe until he could get a chance to pilot them out of
the neighborhood. He and his wife supplied them with provisions while
they remained here, which was for several days. Two or three reasons led
to this delay. Rest was sorely needed after the fatigue endured in
mountain travel, Snow's cavalry were still in the neighborhood, and they
waited also for a dark night and a trusty guide to take them to the
river.
The latter was found in the brother of the loyal woman whose guests they
were. This man took them without difficulty, by a circuitous route, in
the night-time, to a tributary of the Tennessee, by following which they
could not fail to reach the main stream.
The reason Wilson gives for his strong desire to travel by water is
quite cogent. In the uneven mountainous country it was next to
impossible to keep a direct course in night travel, even if they knew
the general direction, while the stream would always keep them in the
right way. Had they asked for guidance by their Union friends in the
direction of Kentucky, however, they would have received it.
They soon saw a boat on the other side of the river, but, as the creek
was swollen and encumbered with drift-wood, they could not swim across.
Wilson, who always took the lead, left his companion to conceal
himself, and, going boldly to the bank, halloed until a man answered,
who, at his request, ferried him across. As the ferryman could not
change a five-dollar note, Wilson promised to return that way in the
evening--it was then morning--and make it right. He hid during the day,
and came back after dark, and, in the absence of the owner, "borrowed"
the boat, took Wood aboard, and was soon far away towards the Tennessee.
The theft of the boat stands on the same grounds as to justification
with the numerous falsehoods told by all the adventurers,--a military
necessity.
At the mouth of the creek they found a patrol-boat anchored nearly
across the stream, but, as it was pitch-dark and raining, they were not
discovered, and, gliding close under her stern, were soon afloat on the
swift current of the Tennessee. They rejoiced in this, but found that
their perils were not yet over. The incessant rain was very chilling,
and blinded their eyes, the wind blew almost a gale, and the current
whirled them on with dangerous speed. They were in constant
apprehension, for they could see but a little way before them, and
scarcely knew where they were going. Many times they very narrowly
escaped wreck. Few things in the whole history of the railroad adventure
are more romantic than the picture of these two men piloting a frail,
stolen skiff down the mountain river during a night of rain and storm.
Their motion was so rapid that they feared dawn might find them in the
vicinity of Chattanooga, by which town it was necessary for them to
pass. Therefore they began, in good time, to cast about for a safe
landing and hiding-place. After many ineffectual attempts, they found a
small island, hugged close to the shore, and reached the lower end,
where they were out of the current, pulled themselves under the
overhanging branches, and drew the boat on shore.
Their position was still one of extreme discomfort. The rain had changed
to sleet and hail, and all effort to get warm or dry was in vain.
Daylight revealed a small cabin on the shore near by, from which the
smoke curled up invitingly. Their suffering was unendurable, and they
decided to seek shelter.
They launched and crossed. Poor Wood, who afterwards died of
consumption, brought on by exposure, and who was now almost frozen,
said, "Alf, you will have to make up some lie to tell them. They will
ask us a thousand questions."
Wilson answered, "I don't know what I can tell them. I am too cold to
speak the truth, though."
The usual Kentucky story was modified to suit their surroundings. They
asked for boats, and professed to be sent out to destroy all on the
river, except where they were in the hands of trustworthy men, with the
object of preventing Union men running away from the conscription. This
was plausible, and they were warmed, dried, and fed.
They now ran down a short distance in the daytime, tied up, and hid in a
field. A man and boy saw their boat, and were about to take it, when the
adventurers, unwilling to be done by as they had done, and confident in
their story, came out and stopped the proceeding. They asserted that it
was a government boat, and that they belonged to a regiment in
Chattanooga, which place they learned was only five miles away. The man
invited them to his house to wait the lulling of the storm. They
accepted, and after nightfall pushed off again, passing Chattanooga,
which they had so long dreaded, in safety. They were now almost
jubilant, but soon found that everything was not smooth sailing. I
presume the storm, which had been so disagreeable, had also been a
shelter, and that without it they might not have got by the rebel
headquarters so easily.
There is a deep gorge a few miles below the city, where the mountains
rise abruptly from the water in frowning grandeur. The river is greatly
narrowed, and, suddenly bending to the left, dashes its furious current
against a wall of rock, and forms a foaming eddy. Our two navigators
"perceived even in the darkness that there was danger ahead. The great
roar and noise caused by the dashing of the angry waters against the
rocks warned us. We hugged the left hand with our little boat as closely
as possible. As we passed the angry whirlpool, into which we seemed to
be drifting, our boat was struck a tremendous blow by a floating log. We
thought we were all dashed to pieces. The blow hoisted us away, however,
several yards to the left, and we went flying down the gorge like the
wind. We were afterwards told that a number of adventurous persons had,
at different times, lost their lives in trying to run down this place by
getting swamped in this great torrent or whirlpool, and it was no doubt
owing to the blow we received from the floating log, by which our boat
was knocked just beyond the reach of danger, that we escaped as
fortunately as we did. It was a providential blow for us, though it had
well nigh crushed our boat. We pulled at our paddles with might and main
to keep the water from swamping our boat, which sank pretty low in the
current and was now going at railroad speed. We soon reached smoother
water, and again felt ourselves safe."
A man on the bank warned them not to try to run through the "suck," a
worse place than that which they had just passed. With much urging, and
the promise of three dollars reward, they got him to agree to pilot them
through. He was a skilful boatman, and took them in safety, though their
boat was nearly filled with water.
Because of these dangers they had been running in daylight. They were
soon hailed by a squad of rebel cavalry, but, being well over on the
opposite side, rowed on without seeming to notice them. They were now
coming to the most dangerous part of their journey,--that near the
Federal lines, where the vigilance of the enemy was most constantly
exercised. They therefore resolved to travel only at night, hiding
themselves and their precious boat by day. That night they passed
Bridgeport, where they expected to meet Mitchel, but found he had not
yet arrived.
When they sought a solitary cabin to get food the next day they heard
great news,--that the Yankees were in the town of Stevenson. This was
confirmed by numerous fugitives who were seeking safety from the dreaded
enemy. They got back to their canoe, rowed down the river until they
judged themselves opposite Stevenson, and then started across the
country to find their friends. The good news elated them so much that
they made the fatal mistake of not waiting for nightfall. Consequently
they found themselves in the town sooner than they expected, and then to
their dismay discovered that the streets were swarming with rebel
soldiers! The story of the frightened fugitives had entrapped them.
But they put the best possible face on the matter. Buying a few articles
in a store, they attempted to stroll leisurely out, but were stopped by
an officer on guard and questioned. They answered plausibly,--probably
with the Kentucky story, as they were now away from the river,--and were
about to be released, when a man brought a _false_ accusation. He
recognized Wilson as being one of the Federal cavalry that charged into
the town the previous night, and dared him to deny it! He did deny it,
but in vain, and having been believed so often when telling falsehoods,
it was only a fair compensation that he now told the truth to
unbelieving ears.
Wilson and Wood were put on a hand-car and run back to Bridgeport. At
this place an excited member of the crowd that gathered around them
declared that he knew them both,--that he had seen them on the train
with Andrews! Wilson always thought this man as much mistaken as his
last accuser, but denial was no more availing than in that case. They
were taken before General Leadbetter, questioned separately, as usual
in the captures, Wood "perspiring like a man in a July harvest," and
both virtually convicted, although Wilson answered the questions
addressed to him in the most undaunted manner. They were taken to
Chattanooga, fastened together with a chain around their necks, and
handcuffed, as the others had been, and ordered to the hole. When they
descended the ladder and joined our miserable company there assembled,
they heard some plaintive voice say in the darkness, to which their eyes
had not yet become accustomed, "Wilson and Wood! They have got every one
of us!" It was true. Every one of the bold band had been captured and
were gathered into one of the vilest dungeons ever used by man to
torture his fellow-man!