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
We were now ready for the emergency, and had fully discussed and settled
our plans. We were in the upper story of the jail. Our room was entered
by a double door,--one of heavy plank, and one of iron slats. If this
was opened, we would only be in the entry, and would have still to go
down-stairs into a hall and pass another door before we could gain the
jail-yard. This, in turn, was surrounded by a board fence eight or ten
feet high, and having but a single gate, which was usually closed. Seven
fully-armed soldiers were constantly on guard, with an unknown reserve
close at hand. We could depend on help from no one of the prisoners
except Captain Fry, so that we were but fifteen, and even two or three
of these were too sick to be of great value in a fight. Then we were in
the skirts of the town, fully a mile from the nearest woods. One
advantage, and the only one on which I relied, was that of surprise. We
knew what we were to do, and the strong motive that impelled it.
All plans looking to sawing out and swinging to the ground at night, as
in Chattanooga, had been canvassed and rejected. What we meant to do was
to break out in open daylight and overpower the guards. The most
favorable time was when the doors were opened for bringing in our
supper, which was a little before sundown, as by starting then we would
soon have the cover of darkness. It was arranged to seize the jailer
when he came to remove the pans in which our supper was brought, and to
keep him perfectly quiet while all the doors were being unlocked, for we
wished to release all the other prisoners. At the same moment the other
members of the party, divided into two squads, were to cautiously
descend the stairway, pounce upon the guards, and take their guns from
them. If this was done in _perfect quiet_, the guards were to be locked
up, and we, taking their arms, would march out on our homeward journey.
As soon as discovered we were to break into parties of two and strike
out for Union territory by widely-diverging lines.
All our plans were completed. We had patched our clothes as well as
possible, and made cloth moccasins to protect our feet, many of our
shoes being worn out. We only waited the coming of the appointed hour.
Slowly the sun sunk down the west; slowly the shadows lengthened in the
east, till the gloomy shade of the jail had nearly reached the crest of
the hill that usually marked our supper-time. We bade each other a
solemn farewell, for we knew not if we should ever meet again on earth,
or how many of us might be cold and lifeless before the stars shone out.
We prayed fervently, though we dared not kneel or speak aloud. Captain
Fry, who was tender-hearted as a child, wept at the parting. He had two
large coats, and as he could not take both with him in the expected
rush, he generously gave one to me. I needed it extremely, for I was
very nearly destitute of clothing. He and I were to be companions,
according to a previous arrangement.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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