On the 12th day of April, 1862, the anniversary of the firing on Fort
Sumter by the Confederates, a passenger train pulled out of the old car
shed in Atlanta. It was a "mixed" train, being composed of three freight
cars, a baggage car, and the passenger coaches. The train started
from Atlanta at an early hour, arrived at Marietta about daylight,
and stopped at Big Shanty, about seven miles north of Marietta,
for breakfast. At Marietta, early as the hour was, quite a crowd of
passengers were waiting to take the train. This excited no remark. There
was a good deal of travel and traffic on the State Road at that time,
for it was the key to the Confederacy--the one artery that connected the
army at the front with its source of supplies.
The conductor of the train was Captain William A. Fuller, of Atlanta.
Captain Fuller's title was not one of courtesy. He was a captain in the
Confederate Army, on detached service. The engineer in charge of the
locomotive was Jeff Cain. Mr. Antony Murphy, an employee of the road,
was also on the train. At Big Shanty the passengers were allowed
twenty minutes for breakfast, but the train men were in the habit of
dispatching their meal a little quicker than this, so as to see that
everything about the locomotive was shipshape when the conductor tapped
the bell. Captain Fuller, sitting at a table near a window, had a
full view of the train. He had hardly begun to eat before he saw the
locomotive (the now famous "General") and the three freight cars pull
out, and heard the gong sound as the cord snapped. He rose instantly and
rushed from the breakfast room, followed by Engineer Cain and Antony
Murphy. He saw the "General" going at full speed up the road with
three freight cars attached. Without hesitation Captain Fuller started
after the flying train on foot, followed by Cain and Murphy. Hundreds of
soldiers were idling about the station. They had no idea what was taking
place. They thought either that the locomotive had been carried up the
track to take on or leave a freight car, or that some practical joker
was playing a prank. They showed their enjoyment of the situation by
laughing and cheering loudly when Captain Fuller, followed by Engineer
Cain and Mr. Murphy, started after the "General "on foot.
[Illustration: Capture of the Locomotive 289]
The locomotive had been captured, and had the plan of its captors been
successful, a paralyzing, perhaps a fatal, blow would have been struck
at the Confederacy. The way the capture had come about was this: Early
in 1862 the Federal commanders planned an advance on Chattanooga; but
the fact that stood in their way was, that at various points along the
line of railroad leading from Atlanta to Chattanooga, Confederate troops
had been posted: consequently the moment an advance on Chattanooga was
made, soldiers and war supplies could be hurried forward to the relief
of the city. It was General Mitchell of the Federal army who planned the
advance; and it was J. J. Andrews, an active spy in the Union service,
who planned a raid by means of which it was intended to burn the bridges
on the road north of Marietta, cut the telegraph wires, and thus destroy
for a time the lines of transportation and communication between Atlanta
and Chattanooga, and make the capture of the last-named point an easy
matter. Andrews suggested to General Mitchell that a party of bold men
could make their way to a station on the Western and Atlantic Railway
(called the State Road because it was owned by the State), capture a
locomotive, and then steam towards Chattanooga, burning the bridges and
cutting the telegraph lines as they went along. Although there seemed
to be small chance for the success of such a daring adventure, General
Mitchell gave his consent to it, agreeing to pay Andrews sixty thousand
dollars if he succeeded. To aid him, Andrews was allowed to select a
number of young men who had already made a reputation in the Federal
army for intelligence and bravery.
There were twenty-four men in this small expedition when it started for
Chattanooga. They were under the command of Andrews, who was a tall,
handsome man with a long black beard. He was cold, impassive, and had
the air of one who is born to command. He was bold as a lion, and never
once lost his coolness, his firmness, or his decision. He and his men
pretended to be Kentuckians who had become disgusted with the Lincoln
government and were making their way South, where they might find more
congenial company than that of the ardent Union men who were their
neighbors at home. This story was plausible on the face of it, for many
Southern sympathizers had fled from Tennessee and Kentucky when the
Federals began to take possession of those sections.
Andrews and his men tramped southward more than a hundred miles before
they reached Chattanooga. Before going into that city, they divided into
smaller squads, and all but two succeeded in eluding guards, sentinels,
and patrols, and passing into the town. They left Chattanooga on a train
bound for Atlanta, buying tickets for Marietta. They reached Marietta in
safety, and went to different hotels for the night. They had arranged
to meet again at four o'clock the next morning and take the north-bound
train. Two of the men were not called by the clerk of the hotel at which
they stopped: consequently they overslept, and their companions had to
go on without them when the train arrived. They had learned that Big
Shanty had no telegraph office, and that it was a breakfast station. At
that point Andrews determined to capture the locomotive. It was not long
before the brakeman put his head in at the door of the car and yelled
out, "Big Shanty! Twenty minutes for breakfast!"
Andrews and his men looked out of the windows of the car as the train
drew up at the station, and the sight they saw was not calculated to
make them feel certain of success. Opposite the station was a field
covered with the tents of soldiers, and in and around the station
thousands of soldiers were loitering and standing about. When the train
stopped, Andrews, the leader, and Knight, an engineer who had come with
the party, rose and left the coach on the side opposite the depot, and
went to the locomotive, which they found empty. They also saw that the
track was clear. Andrews and Knight then walked back until they came to
the last of the three box cars. Andrews told his engineer to uncouple
the baggage car from the box car, and then wait for him. Knight did as
he was told, while Andrews walked leisurely back to the passenger coach,
opened the door, and said quietly, "Now is our time, boys! Come on!"
The men rose at once and went out of the coach. Knight, as soon as he
saw them coming, climbed into the locomotive, cut the bell rope, and
stood with his hand on the throttle, waiting for the word. Andrews stood
near the locomotive, and motioned with his hand for the men to get into
the box cars, the doors of which were slid back. All the men were now in
the box cars except Andrews, Knight, and another engineer named Brown,
who ran forward and climbed into the locomotive. While this was going
on, a sentinel stood within half a dozen yards of the train, but he
had no idea what was occurring. Andrews gave the signal to go ahead.
Instantly Knight pulled the throttle valve open, and the locomotive
started forward with a jerk. It went puffing and snorting out of Big
Shanty without let or hindrance.
But the train had not gone very far before the speed of the locomotive
began to slacken. The fire in the furnace refused to burn, and the
steam was low. While the engineer was trying to discover what was wrong,
Andrews ordered the men to cut the telegraph wire and tear up a rail
from the track. By the time the rail had been torn up and the wire
cut, the engineer had discovered that the dampers of the fire box were
closed. With these open, the boiler began to make steam again, and
the locomotive was soon rattling over the rails once more. It was
the intention of Andrews to run the captured train on the time of the
regular passenger train, so that he would have only one train to meet
and pass before reaching the Resaca River, where he intended to burn the
bridge. This done, it would have been an easy matter to burn the bridges
over the Chickamauga. This crooked stream winds about the valleys so
unexpectedly, and in such curious fashion, that the railroad crosses it
eleven times within a few miles. These eleven bridges Andrews intended
to burn as he went along, and then he would not fear pursuit. His
success seemed to be certain.
The captured locomotive, an old-fashioned machine with a big heavy
smokestack, went clanking and clattering along the road, and reeling
and rumbling through the towns, dragging after it the three box cars
containing the men whom Andrews had brought with him. After passing
a station, the locomotive would be stopped and the wire cut. When the
train reached Cassville, wood and water were running low, and a stop was
made to get a fresh supply. The doors of the box cars were closed, and
the men inside could not be seen. The station agent at this place was
very inquisitive. He wanted to know why so small and insignificant a
freight train was running on the time of the morning passenger train.
Andrews promptly told the agent that the train was not a freight, but an
express, and that it was carrying three cars of gunpowder to Beauregard.
The agent believed the story, and furnished Andrews with a train
schedule.
[Illustration: Tearing up the Rails 295]
From Cassville the distance to Kingston was seven miles, and at that
point a freight train was to be passed. When Andrews reached the place,
he found that the freight had not arrived. He therefore switched his
train into a siding to wait for the freight train, and repeated his
powder story for the benefit of the inquisitive. When the freight
arrived, he saw that it carried a red flag. This meant another train
was on the road. After another long half hour's wait, the second freight
train came in sight, and Andrews was dismayed to see another red flag
displayed. The railroad men said another train was following. The men
on the captured train were compelled to wait more than an hour. To those
shut up in the box cars this was a very trying time. They had no means
of knowing what had happened, or what was about to happen, until Knight,
the engineer, found an opportunity to saunter by and tell them what the
trouble was. At the end of an hour the long wait was over. The freight
trains had passed, and the captured locomotive, dragging the box cars,
went swiftly out of Kingston. A short distance beyond, the usual stop
was made, and the wires cut An attempt was made to tear up the track by
some of the men, while others loaded the box cars with railroad ties.
While engaged in this work, the men heard the screaming whistle of
a locomotive in full pursuit. They were more than amazed: they were
paralyzed. If a pursuing locomotive had sprung out of the ground at
their feet with a full head of steam on, they could not have been more
astonished. They had just passed three freight trains headed in the
opposite direction, and now here was a pursuing locomotive coming
after them at full speed, and with a full head of steam on. Making one
spasmodic effort, they broke the rail they were trying to tear up.
Reaching Adairsville, Andrews and his men found that the passenger train
had not arrived. But it was no time for waiting. They resolved to take
every chance. The engineer had orders to send the locomotive along at
full speed. He was very willing to do this. Calhoun was nine miles away,
and if that station could be reached before the passenger train left,
all would be well; if not, there was danger of a collision. But Andrews
took all the chances. The throttle of the locomotive was pulled wide
open, and the train started so suddenly and so swiftly that the men in
the box cars were thrown from their feet. The distance to Calhoun was
nine miles, and the train bearing Andrews and his men made it in seven
minutes and a half,--pretty swift traveling, when it is remembered that
the track was full of short curves, and not in the best condition.
As the locomotive neared Calhoun, Engineer Knight gave several loud
blasts on the whistle; and it was well he did so, for the passenger
train had just begun to pull out of Calhoun on its way to Adairsville.
If the whistle had been blown a moment later than it was, the passenger
train would have been under full headway, and the signal would not have
been heard; but the passenger train had just begun to move, and was
going slowly. The whistle was heard, and the engineer backed his train
to Calhoun again. But when Andrews and his men arrived, they found a new
difficulty in the way. The passenger train was such a long one that the
rear end blocked the track. Andrews tried to get the conductor to move
on to Adairsville and there meet the upbound passenger train; but that
official was too badly scared by the danger he had just escaped to take
any more chances, and he refused to budge until the other train should
arrive. This would be fatal to the plans of Andrews, and that bold
adventurer made up his mind that the time had come for force to be used.
The conductor was finally persuaded to allow Andrews to go ahead with
his powder train. He ran a little more than a mile beyond Calhoun,
stopped his train, ordered the wire cut and another rail torn up. While
they were busily engaged in this work, they were both amazed and alarmed
to see a locomotive approaching from the direction of Calhoun. They had
only bent the rail, and were compelled to leave it and get out of the
way of their pursuers.
Andrews and his men were bold and intrepid, even reckless; but the man
who had charge of the pursuit had all these qualities and more. Captain
Fuller was possessed of an energy and a determination that allowed
nothing to stand in their way.
We have seen how Captain Fuller sprang from the breakfast table at Big
Shanty, and went running after the flying locomotive. Engineer Jeff Cain
and Mr. Murphy followed after. The soldiers loitering about the station
laughed and cheered at the queer spectacle of a conductor giving chase
on foot to his locomotive which, with a part of his train, was running
away under a full head of steam. All of Captain Fuller's energies were
aroused to their highest pitch, and he easily distanced his companions.
He ran fully three miles, and then came upon a squad of section hands
who had been engaged in repairing the track. They were now very much
excited. The captured locomotive had stopped with them long enough for
the men on the box cars to seize all their tools and cut the telegraph
wire, being careful to take away about fifty feet, so that the wire
could not be promptly joined. From the demoralized section hands Captain
Fuller learned of the number of men on the locomotive, and was given
reason to suspect that they were Federals in disguise. The section hands
had what was then called a pole car, a small affair which they pushed
with poles from point to point. It had been derailed to make way for the
up passenger train. Conductor Fuller had it lifted upon the track,
and then debated with himself as to whether he should go back for his
engineer, Jeff Cain, who, with Mr. Antony Murphy, had been left far
behind. Concluding that it would be well to have his engineer with
him, Captain Fuller pressed some of the section hands into service, and
pushed down the road the way he had come, going more than a mile before
he met Cain and Murphy. Once on the old hand car, Captain Fuller turned
and again began the pursuit as energetically as before, although he knew
that valuable time had been lost. Something of their leader's energy
and dauntless spirit was imparted to the men with him, and they made
tolerable speed with the pole car; but, suddenly, while they were poling
along at a great rate, the car tumbled from the track. They had now come
to the place where the would-be bridge burners had torn up the first
rail. The pursuers were not hurt by the fall. They jumped to their feet,
pushed the car over the obstruction, and were soon on their way again,
going even more rapidly than before. In this way the pursuit led by
Captain Fuller came to Etowah Station. Here he found the old "Yonah," a
locomotive belonging to the Mark A. Cooper Iron Works. The "Yonah" was
a superannuated engine, but Captain Fuller pressed it and its crew into
his service. The rickety old "Yonah" seemed to enter into the spirit of
the pursuit, for the distance to Kingston--thirteen miles--was made in
twelve minutes.
As Andrews and his men had been delayed at Kingston for more than an
hour waiting for the freight trains to allow him to pass, the pursuers,
led by Captain Fuller, arrived at Kingston only ten minutes after the
raiders left. The tracks were crowded with these freight trains when the
"Yonah" arrived, and Captain Fuller saw at a glance that the locomotive
would be of no further service in the chase. He leaped from the engine,
and ran about two miles to the north angle of the Rome railway, where
he knew he would find the locomotive of the Rome road standing at this
hour. He pressed the engine and crew into service, and again took up the
pursuit of the fleeing raiders.
Andrews and his men, in the meantime, had stopped and loaded their box
cars with old cross-ties and discarded rails These they began to throw
out of the rear end of their hindmost car as a measure of safety. They
did not suspect pursuit at this time, but they took the precaution
to obstruct the track in this manner. Six miles north of Kingston the
raiders stopped and tore up several rails. Captain Fuller rode on the
pilot of his engine, and removed such of the obstructions as were not
knocked off by the cowcatcher.
When Captain Fuller reached the point where the rails had been removed,
his locomotive was useless. But his blood was now up. He abandoned the
engine, and ran on foot towards Adairsville, where he knew he would find
a through freight train. In fact he met it after he had run about three
miles, flagged it down, reversed it, and carried it back to Adairsville.
There, taking the engine, tender forward, with its crew, he renewed the
pursuit. The locomotive was run at an extraordinary rate of speed;
but Captain Fuller felt it to be his duty to ride on the bumper of
the tender, a precarious position even when there is no danger of
obstructions. Beyond Calhoun, Andrews and his men stopped to cut the
telegraph wire and tear up more rails. They had pried a rail above the
stringers when they heard the pursuing locomotive, and saw it rounding
a curve half a mile away. They scrambled into their cars in a hurry,
leaving the rail bent but not removed. Captain Fuller saw the bent rail,
but he had also seen the game, and he allowed his engine to be driven
over it under a full head of steam.
From this point the chase was the most thrilling and reckless of which
there is any record. Andrews resorted to his old trick of dropping
cross-ties, but he soon saw that this would not do. Then he uncoupled
one of his box cars. Captain Fuller picked it up, and pushed it ahead.
Andrews uncoupled another. This was served the same way, and at Resaca
the cars were run on a siding. The "General," commanded by Andrews,
was now forward, with one car, while the "Texas," commanded by Captain
Fuller, and driven by Peter Bracken, was running tender forward, with
Fuller standing on the brake board, or bumper. The locomotives were
about evenly matched. Both had five-foot ten-inch drivers, and both were
running under all the pressure their boilers could carry.
All thought of danger was lost sight of. The pursued had no time to
hatch any scheme calculated to delay pursuit. The pursuers forgot to
look for obstructions. On one side it was capture or die; on the other
it was escape at all hazards. The people of the towns and villages
through which the road passes knew not what to make of the spectacle.
Before they could recover from the surprise of seeing a locomotive with
one box car dash wildly past the station, they were struck dumb with
amazement by the sight of another locomotive thundering by, tender
forward, a tall man standing on the bumper and clinging to the brake
rod.
They were going at a terrific rate of speed, but Peter Bracken, the
brave engineer of the "Texas," knew his locomotive so well, and handled
her with such a nice eye for her weak as well as her strong points,
that the pursuers gradually shortened the distance between them and the
raiders. The "General" was a good locomotive in its day and time, but
it was in unfamiliar hands. Any locomotive engineer will tell you that a
man must be thoroughly acquainted with his machine, and somewhat in
love with it to boot, to get the best speed out of it, when speed is
necessary.
The raiders were pushed so closely that they soon found it necessary to
abandon their engine and car. Three miles north of Ringgold, they slowed
down a little, and, seizing a favorable opportunity, tumbled out, and
fled through the woods in all directions. It might be supposed that
Captain Fuller would be satisfied with recapturing his locomotive, which
was in all respects a remarkable achievement. But he had other views. He
knew that there would be no safety for the road with the bridge burners
at large, and so he made up his mind to be satisfied with nothing less
than their capture. In passing through Ringgold, three miles back, he
had noticed a company of militia drilling in an old field. So he sent
word to the commanding officer by his engineer, Peter Bracken (who, with
his fireman, took the two locomotives back to Ringgold), to mount his
men as promptly as possible, and join in the chase of the fugitives.
This message dispatched, Captain Fuller and two of his men, Fleming Cox
and Alonzo Martin, ran into the woods after the fleeing raiders.
Jeff Cain, the engineer of the "General," had been left with the Rome
locomotive. Mr. Antony Murphy remained in the chase until the "General"
was recaptured, and returned to Ringgold with the two locomotives.
All the raiders were caught and imprisoned. Andrews was known to be a
spy, and he, with seven of his men who could establish no connection
with the Federal army in any branch of the service, was hanged.
Six escaped, and made their way to the Federal lines. The rest were
regularly exchanged.
Perhaps those that were hanged deserved a better fate. They were brave
to recklessness, and were engaged in the boldest adventure of the war.
Their scheme was most skillfully planned, and courageously undertaken,
and if it had succeeded,--if the bridges had been burned and the door
of the Confederate granaries closed,--the result would have been what
it was when Sherman, with a large army, and at the sacrifice of many
men and much treasure, closed the State Road to the Confederates in
Virginia.
Andrews and his men came near accomplishing, by one bold stroke, pretty
much all that Sherman accomplished in crippling the Confederates. It was
only by the merest chance that they had such a man as Captain Fuller to
oppose them. If they had arrived at Marietta the day before or the day
after, the probability is that they would have succeeded in their daring
venture. Captain Fuller was more than the equal of Andrews in all those
qualities that sustain men in moments of great emergency, and greatly
his superior in those moral acquirements that lead men to take risks and
make sacrifices on behalf of their convictions, and in the line of their
duty.