Capturing a Locomotive: A History of Secret Service in the Late War.Pittenger, William
History
Capturing a Locomotive: A History of Secret Service in the Late War.
Pittenger, William
Chattanooga Railroad Expedition, 1862; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Campaigns
A single glance showed my helplessness. I laid my hand instinctively on
my revolver, but knew that fight was useless. Neither was flight
possible. The country was open and I was too weary to run, even if some
of the party had not been mounted and others armed with rifles and
shot-guns. It was time to see what could be made of my plans carefully
contrived for just such an emergency. Therefore, making a virtue of
necessity, I turned round and demanded what they wanted, though I knew
only too well. They said courteously enough that they wanted to talk
with me awhile. Soon they came up, and a brisk little man who had the
epaulets of a lieutenant, but whom they called "Major," began to ask
questions. He was very bland, and apologized profusely 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 emulate his politeness, begging him to
proceed in the performance of his duty, and assuring him that he would
find nothing wrong. He searched me very closely for papers, and examined
my money and pistol, but found no ground for suspicion.
He next asked me who I was, where I came from, and where I was going. I
expected all these questions in about that order, and answered them
categorically. I told him I was a citizen of Kentucky, of Fleming
County, who had become disgusted with the tyranny of the Lincoln
government, and was ready to fight against it; that I came to
Chattanooga, but would not enlist there because most of the troops were
conscripts, and the few volunteers very poorly armed. I told him where I
had lodged in Chattanooga, and many things about the troops there, using
all the knowledge I had acquired of that character while riding on the
cars to Marietta the preceding Friday. I had also heard many words of
praise spoken of the First Georgia Regiment, and now told the major that
I wished to join that noble organization. This flattered his State
pride, but he asked me one question more,--why I had not gone directly
to Corinth, where the First Georgia was, without coming to Lafayette,
which was far out of the way. The question conveyed much information, as
I did not before know that I was near Lafayette, or out of the road from
Chattanooga to Corinth. I answered as well as I could by alleging that
General Mitchel was said to be at Huntsville, and that I was making a
circuit around to avoid the danger of falling into his hands.
This seemed to be perfectly satisfactory to the little man, and, turning
to the attentive crowd, he said,--
"We may as well let this fellow go on, for he seems to be all right."
I was greatly rejoiced at these words, and cast about in my own mind to
see if I could not gain something more before passing on the way. But my
joy was premature. A dark-complexioned man on horseback, with his hat
drawn over his brows, looked slowly up and drawled out,--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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