Before giving an account of our adventures in the woods, I will insert the following article from the "Southern Confederacy," of April 15, 1862, a paper published in Atlanta, Georgia, only three days after our adventure. This I purloined from the officer in charge of us, and carried concealed about my clothes all the time I remained in the South. It contains a good many errors of statement, particularly where it refers to our numbers and plans, but is valuable as showing the estimate the rebels placed on our enterprise, and as giving their ideas of the chase. It also represents us as tearing up the railroad many more times than we did. In no case did they take up rails behind, and lay them down before their train. This assertion was made to give Messrs. Fuller and Murphy more credit at our expense. So highly were the services of these gentlemen appreciated, that the Georgia State Legislature, in the fall of 1862, gave them a vote of thanks, and recommended the Governor to grant them the highest offices in his gift. I do not know what they actually did receive.
Below is the account:
THE GREAT RAILROAD CHASE!
The Most Extraordinary and Astounding Adventure of the War—The Most Daring Undertaking that Yankees ever Planned or Attempted to Execute—Stealing an Engine—Tearing up the Track—Pursued on Foot, on Hand-Cars, and Engines—Overtaken—A Scattering—The Capture—The Wonderful Energy of Messrs. Fuller, Murphy and Cain—Some Reflections, &c., &c.
FULL PARTICULARS!!
Since our last issue, we have obtained full particulars of the most thrilling railroad adventure that ever occurred on the American continent, as well as the mightiest and most important in its results, if successful, that has been conceived by the Lincoln Government since the commencement of this war. Nothing on so grand a scale has been attempted, and nothing within the range of possibility could be conceived, that would fall with such a tremendous, crushing force upon us, as the accomplishment of the plans which were concocted and dependent on the execution of the one whose history we now proceed to narrate.
Its reality—what was actually done—excels all the extravagant conceptions of the Arrow-Smith hoax, which fiction created such a profound sensation in Europe.
To make the matter more complete and intelligible, we will take our readers over the same history of the case which we related in our last, the main features of which are correct, but are lacking in details, which have since come to hand.
We will begin at the breakfast-table of the Big Shanty Hotel at Camp McDonald, on the Western and Atlantic Railroad, where several regiments of soldiers are now encamped. The morning mail and passenger train had left here at four A. M., on last Saturday morning, as usual, and had stopped there for breakfast. The conductor, William A. Fuller; the engineer, I. Cain, both of this city; and the passengers were at the table, when some eight men, having uncoupled the engine and three empty box-cars next to it, from the passenger and baggage-cars, mounted the engine, pulled open the valve, put on all steam, and left conductor, engineer, passengers, spectators, and the soldiers in the camp hard by, all lost in amazement, and dumbfounded at the strange, startling, and daring act.
This unheard-of act was, doubtless, undertaken at that place and time upon the presumption that pursuit could not be made by an engine short of Kingston, some thirty miles above, or from this place; and that by cutting down the telegraph wires as they proceeded, the adventurers could calculate on at least three or four hours' start of any pursuit it was reasonable to expect. This was a legitimate conclusion, and but for the will, energy, and quick good judgment of Mr. Fuller, and Mr. Cain, and Mr. Anthony Murphy, the intelligent and practical foreman of the wood department of the State Road shop, who accidentally went on the train from this place that morning, their calculations would have worked out as originally contemplated, and the results would have been obtained long ere this reaches the eye of our readers—the most terrible to us of any that we can conceive as possible, and unequaled by any attempted or conceived since this war commenced.