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 little before dark the next evening we again started, and now had
good, comfortable cars,--the best we had enjoyed on the route. But we
only ran a short distance to the junction, where we had to leave them
and wait the arrival of another train. Here was the best chance of
escape we had yet found. The night was pitchy dark, and so cold that the
guards built a great fire on the border of a strip of woodland, and
allowed us to help in gathering withered sticks to replenish it. They
scarcely appeared to notice us, and all that was necessary for escape
was to give the word and run for it. Nothing held us but the absolute
confidence of a speedy exchange, and, depending upon that, the golden
opportunity was neglected. Of course, the perils and hardships of
wandering through the Virginia mountains in the depth of winter would
have been severe, but the start would have been mere child's play. Oh!
how bitterly we afterwards regretted that we had not darted into the
depths of the forest and sought to effect our own exchange!
CHAPTER XX.
LIBBY AND CASTLE THUNDER.
In a few hours the train for which we waited arrived, and, passing
onward without further noticeable events, long before morning we were in
Richmond. There was the same intense and piercing cold which had been
the main element in our suffering during this journey, but the sky was
clear, and the rebel capital was distinctly seen in the sparkling
moonlight. Everything looked grim and silent through the frosty air, and
our teeth chattered fast and loud as we walked up a street of the
sleeping city.
But the sergeant in command of our party did not know what to do with
us. We hoped that some arrangements had been made for forwarding us
directly to City Point, the place of exchange, so that we might that
very day behold once more the stars and stripes. Yet we knew it was more
probable that some detention would occur. The sergeant left us where we
were while he started in search of the provost-marshal's office for
instructions. We endeavored to shelter ourselves as best we could from
the unbearable cold, which really threatened to prove fatal. Two pieces
of ragged carpet were all the protection we had, in addition to our
well-worn summer clothing, and we spread these over our heads as we
huddled together in a solid mass in the angle of a brick wall. It was
astonishing what a relief this afforded,--especially to those who were
in the inside of the _pack_, where I happened to be. Here we shivered
till the sergeant returned. He had found the headquarters of the prison
department and conducted us thither.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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