Daring and Suffering: A History of the Great Railroad Adventure

by William Pittenger

While here, the idea of escape frequently presented itself. It is true that our guards outnumbered us, and always used the cautions I have described above; but the very fear this argued would have been our best help. We often discussed the subject among ourselves.

All were anxious to go but Ross and Wilson, who thought the proposition premature, as they, relying on what the officers in charge of us said, believed that there was some hope of our exchange. But others of us were impatient to make one bold effort for our own deliverance. Two plans were proposed. The first, which I suggested, was to have all our irons off when the guards came up to feed us, and then, as the door opened, to make a simultaneous rush on the leveled bayonets outside, wrest the arms from their owners, and pour down stairs on the guard below. As soon as we had secured the arms of the remainder, we could leave the prison-yard in a solid body, and pass on double-quick to the ferry-boat, which lay on our side of the river, not far distant. Once over the river, and thus armed, we would have been comparatively safe.

The other plan, which we finally agreed to adopt, was proposed by Andrews. It was, that some one should secrete himself under the bed in the jailor's room, when we were coming up from our breathing in the yard, and remain there till all was quiet at night; then come out and noiselessly unlock the door; after this, we could rush down, seize the guard, and proceed, as in the first plan.

There were two of our party who failed to reach the place of rendezvous in time to be with us on the train. One was from the Twenty-first, the other from the Second Ohio Regiment. They were suspected, and to save themselves, were compelled to join a rebel battery, which they did, representing themselves as brothers from Kentucky. In the battle at Bridgeport, in which the secessionists were so badly panic-stricken, the one from the Twenty-first found an opportunity to escape to General Mitchel. This caused suspicion to rest on his supposed brother, who was arrested, brought to Chattanooga, and confined in the dungeon while we were there. We recognized him, and talked, though very cautiously, about his adventures. He asked us not to divulge the fact that he was one of us—an unnecessary request. He remained there for some time, and was finally released, and put into the battery again, from which, by a wonderful series of adventures, he succeeded in making good his escape to our lines.

At this time there was a great talk of exchange. A son of General Mitchel's had been captured; but he also held a considerable number of prisoners, and it was believed that an exchange would be effected. A lieutenant, whom Mitchel had released on parole, for the purpose of seeing Kirby Smith, at that time commanding the department of East Tennessee, and obtaining his consent to an exchange, visited us. His story raised the most sanguine hopes. The Confederate officers, however, said that it would be first necessary to have a trial, and prove that we were really United States soldiers, and then we, too, would be embraced in the exchange. Andrews, some time before, wanted to send a flag of truce through the lines to get from our officers a statement of our true character; but they refused permission, saying that they could believe our own story on the subject without going to so much trouble.

The prospect of an exchange served to defer our attempted escape, but at last we resolved to wait no longer. The very day we came to this conclusion, an order was given to send twelve to Knoxville for trial—a mere formal one as the commander of the guard and the marshal told us—to clearly prove that we were an authorized military expedition, and not mere citizen adventurers. George D. Wilson was in the yard when the order came. He was permitted to be down there, because he was very sick. The officer of the guard handed him the order, asking him to select twelve to go, as no names were mentioned. He did so, selecting all his own regiment (Second Ohio) first, and afterward his special friends from the other regiments, because he thought it would be a favor to them—that they would probably be first exchanged. This unexpected order induced us to abandon our cherished scheme of escape, which, in all probability, judging from the result of a subsequent attempt, under far more unfavorable circumstances, would have been completely successful.

As we twelve, who were to go to Knoxville, prepared for our departure, we felt a shade of gloom fall over our spirits. Our little band, who had for nearly two months been companions in dangers and privations, such as few men ever experienced, was now to be divided, and we knew not where we should unite again; for in spite of their fair words, the fact remained that we were in the power of that enemy who has deluged our land in blood.

With Andrews, the parting was peculiarly affecting; we had been accustomed to look up to him in all emergencies. He was our leader, and was the particular mark for the vengeance of the foe. Officers, in bidding us hope, spoke no words of comfort to him. He bore this like a hero, as he was, and continued to hope against hope. But now, after we had sung our songs together for the last time, and come to bid him farewell, we were moved even to tears. I will never forget his last words, as he silently pressed our hands, and with a tear in his blue eye, and a low, sweet voice, that thrilled through my inmost being, said: "Boys, if I never see you here again, try to meet me on the other side of Jordan." It was our last earthly meeting.

Colonel Claiborne accompanied us to the cars, where we found we were to be escorted by a detachment of Morgan's celebrated guerillas. Claiborne gave orders for our humane treatment, saying: "They are men, like other men, and gentlemen too, and I want them treated as such." When he left, I felt we had parted from a friend, rebel as he was.

Claiborne's parting charge procured us courtesy from our guard. Indeed, they were a much better class of men than the great mass of the Southern army. Several of them told us that they had enlisted with Morgan only to make money, and were getting it fast. All were well dressed in citizens' clothes, and had the language and manners of gentlemen. They had another motive in treating us kindly. A large number of their own band were now in the hands of the government, and were equally liable with ourselves, under every rule of right, to be treated as criminals; for they had not only dressed in citizens' clothes, but had even assumed our uniform wherever it was their interest to do so. They were indignant to see us in irons, and said they would not be afraid to guard us with our limbs free, but did not, of course, dare to remove our fastenings.