Читать книгу Capturing a Locomotive - William Pittenger - Страница 13

At this time the Union cause seemed most hopeful. All appearances indicated a speedy termination of the war and a complete re-establishment of the old government. Few great battles had taken place, but the preponderance of fortune as well as force seemed everywhere on the loyal side. In the West, our armies had during the last three months penetrated almost half-way to the Gulf; McClellan was preparing to move with overwhelming force towards Richmond; Burnside was dealing hard blows on the North Carolina coast; the force which captured New Orleans was already on the way; and at no point were the rebel forces a fair match for their opponents. Volunteering had almost stopped in the South, while recruits were pouring as a steady stream into the Northern armies, and continued to do so for a year longer. A rebellion almost isolated and placed everywhere on the defensive could not hope for long life unless new resources were discovered. The rebel leaders well knew this, and therefore passed the conscription law.

It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that there were two wars waged between the North and the South. The first was between the two people by means of volunteers, and the second between the two governments. For the first year the soldiers fought on both sides with scarcely a thought of pay or bounty, and without a hint of compulsion. But the South had reached the end of this period, and her volunteers were beaten and exhausted. This was not from any want of bravery on their part, but because of inferior numbers, and because, having less at stake than the volunteers of the North, they could less willingly support adverse fortune. Now the new law was enacted at the South which put all the able-bodied population at the service of the State. The advantages were immediate and obvious. All the volunteers who had enlisted for a limited time were retained. The depleted organizations were filled up to their full strength, instead of waiting for the recruiting of new regiments, and the conscripts thus became, in a few days, the equals of old soldiers. The second year of the war, in which the Northern volunteers fought the whole force the Southern States could bring into the field, was, on the whole, the most unfavorable of any period to the loyal arms. It became clear that the supremacy of the Union could not be restored unless the same potent weapon could be employed on her behalf. From the hour that the possibility of this was demonstrated, and a draft successfully enforced by the Union government, the issue was virtually decided. Despair might protract the contest, but the utter exhaustion of Southern resources was only a question of time. Was it necessary to permit the war to pass from the first into the second stage? Might not the victory of the Union volunteers have been pushed so rapidly as to have prevented the South from enforcing the conscription law over any considerable portion of her territory, and thus have ended the contest at once? These were questions of tremendous importance, which could only be answered in the months of April and May, 1862. Then was a golden opportunity which once lost could only be regained by years of desperate fighting. A half-dozen great victories in midsummer would be of less real value than a vigorous advance in the spring, which should at once discourage the enemy, while at the lowest point of his fortunes, and prevent the recruiting of his armies by conscription. It has often been said that the North did not win any decisive advantage until the abolition of slavery. This is true, but it does not in the least contradict the view just advanced. That great measure committed the North absolutely to the conquest of the South, and thus led to exertions adequate to the end sought. Yet we must conclude, reasoning from a military point of view only, that if the same exertions had been put forth earlier, they would have been even more speedily effective.

These considerations, which were but dimly, if at all, realized as we glided along in the darkness through the heart of the rebel country, will render more intelligible the vast importance attributed by competent military authorities to the expedition in which we were engaged. If we burned the bridges on the morrow, General Mitchel would certainly capture Chattanooga within three or four days, and spread his power over East Tennessee and all the adjoining loyal districts. The people of this section, now thoroughly alarmed and enraged by the conscription, would enlist under his banner by tens of thousands. Seven regiments had already been formed by East Tennesseeans, who, under circumstances of the greatest difficulty, had run away into Kentucky. The communications of the Eastern and the Western rebel armies would be cut; and to destroy those armies in detail would only require the vigorous advance of the forces already opposed to them. This was a brilliant prospect to set before an expedition composed of only twenty-four men; but there is in it nothing beyond the realm of probability, and as I thought of the mere possibility of such achievements I felt that we might afford to despise all personal danger. To deliver a territory occupied by nearly a million citizens from conscription; to place an army in the most important strategical position in the rebel territory, for such Chattanooga was; to give the command of the great continental system of railways into the hands of our own troops, and to paralyze the plans of the enemy; these were, indeed, almost incredible results to flow from such a cause; but we believed then that such would be the meaning of our success. The reader who will study attentively the military situation as it was in 1862, with the railroads then existing, and add the fact that the Southern armies were then depleted to the lowest point reached during the struggle, will not be disposed to smile at such possibilities. It is certain that in the first hour of panic, caused by our attempt, the Confederates themselves acknowledged, not in words only, but in the most significant actions, the deadly peril to which they had been exposed.

With such thoughts the hours passed not unpleasantly. I noticed that we were making very slow time, and afterwards learned that this was general on Southern roads. The absorption in warlike affairs and the scarcity of iron and all other material, as well as of money, had caused the managers of the railroads to let them fall into bad repair, and this necessitated a low rate of speed. The fastest train on this road did not get beyond eighteen miles an hour. This was a decidedly unfavorable element in the problem we were to solve. Some of the adventurers were even less favorably impressed with our prospects than I was. The immense business of the road, which had become one of the most important in the whole South, rendered the running of a train when we captured it much more difficult. We saw many freight trains lying at the stations, and everything indicated that the capacity of this line of rail was being pressed to the utmost. Sergeant Ross and Alfred Wilson took the most gloomy view of our prospects of success, and even sought an opportunity, soon after, to dissuade Andrews from going any further in it. The latter thus explains his own feelings,—

"After getting seated, and there being no further cause of concern for the time being, I began to carefully study over the situation with all the thought I could, and to calculate our chances of success or failure. The result of my deliberations was by no means encouraging. We were one day behind the time appointed. I knew, too, or felt sure, that General Mitchel would not fail to march upon and take Huntsville, according to the arrangement made when we started. I also felt that if he did so there would be little room to hope for our success. It would cause the roads to be crowded with trains flying from danger, and it would be difficult to pass them all in safety. But it was too late now to change the programme. We must make the effort, come what might. I said nothing, however, to any one but Andrews; but on listening to my opinion on the situation, he encouraged me by saying there was yet a good chance to succeed. Indeed, he expressed himself in so sanguine a manner that I made no further argument; but I still thought my course of reasoning correct, whether the event should accord with it or not."

From the soldiers and others in the train we received a rumor which was full of startling interest to us,—nothing less than the reported capture of Huntsville by General Mitchel. Much incredulity was expressed, and details were wanting. His force was reported at twenty-five or thirty thousand men,—an extravagant but not unnatural over-estimate. We had no doubt of the truth of the report, though it would have better suited us if he also had been detained for one day, or even more.

It was near nine o'clock when the train reached the supper station. After all our fatigue we were well prepared to do justice to the bountiful meal that was spread. But there was such a rush for the table that several of our party were unable to get near it, and had therefore to continue their fast. The writer was more fortunate. Buffum, who was crowded back on account of his small size, managed to stoop down and slip up under the arm of a rebel officer just as the latter was rising from the table, and thus took his place while a half-dozen hungry travellers rushed for it. There was some laughing, and Buffum was applauded for his "Yankee trick," more than he would have been had it been known that he was actually a native of Massachusetts, and then engaged in the Federal service.

The train rushed on after we left the supper station, and as I had managed to get a good meal and also a comfortable seat in the changing, all reflections and dangers were soon forgotten in a sound sleep, from which I only awakened when the conductor shouted "Marietta!" It was then almost midnight, and the goal was reached. This was, for the present, the utmost boundary of our journey. We were now in the centre of the Confederacy, and before we departed had a blow to strike that would either make all rebeldom vibrate from centre to circumference or leave us at the mercy of the merciless. But the first thing to be done was to snatch a short repose preparatory to the hard work of the morrow.