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 ident.i.ty, 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!'

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 b.u.t.t 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 a.s.suring 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 circ.u.mstances, 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-cla.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 circ.u.mstances 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 coa.r.s.e-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 circ.u.mstances. 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 circ.u.mstances.

"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 _h.e.l.l_, 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sengers 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 fict.i.tious names, were a.s.signed 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 Sat.u.r.day--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 s.p.a.ce 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 pa.s.s 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 b.u.t.termilk 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 b.u.t.termilk was all the food they had eaten since their start on Sat.u.r.day.

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 "Mitch.e.l.l'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 n.o.ble-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 pa.s.sed 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 princ.i.p.al 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 c.u.mberland 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 c.o.c.ked, 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, a.s.suring 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 enc.u.mbered 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 anch.o.r.ed 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 pa.s.s. 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 sh.o.r.e, and reached the lower end, where they were out of the current, pulled themselves under the overhanging branches, and drew the boat on sh.o.r.e.

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 sh.o.r.e 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."