Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 May 1911 — An Escape On an Iron Horse [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

An Escape On an Iron Horse

Memorial Day Story

By F. A. Mitchel

Stories about the war between the states are getting scarce—that Is, stories told by men who enacted the events narrated. Time was when veterans used to meet and swap yarns by the dozens—all true too. But now they are too old to get together very often and when they do they find their memories are so detective that It Is difficult for them to get through a continuous narrative. They mix up dates and places and armies so that it spoils the story. A veteran whose hair was white as snow, whose cheeks were hollow, told me this story. It was difficult for me to realize was the same man who as a boy nearly half a century ago took part in the adventure he narrated. “I’d been a prisoner of war so long,” he said, “that I felt I’d rather die than stay any longer In that prison pen. So one dark night I got two men to stand up against the fence, the one on the other's shoulders, and 1 climbed up to the shoulders of the top man. clutched the fence and got on top of It. How I did It 1 don’t know, for I’d had little or nothing to eat for months and was weak as a kitten. I dropped over into soft mud, and luckily the sentry didn’t hear me; If he had I’d have been shot. "Some negroes took me In early the next morning, hid me and gave me "plenty of corn pone, with an occasional feed of salt pork. Having got some strength In me I concluded to light out northward. One of ’em told me about

a dead Confederate soldier he’d seen in the woods, and I asked him to get me 41s clothes. They were nothing but butternut, but there was a brass belt buckle and some other things with C. S. A. on them, and that served me as well as a uniform. "I started to travel nights and lie hid among the niggers in daytime. In the morning after starting, when the dawn was breaking and I was looking about for a retiring place, I came upon a railroad station. A locomotive was standing on a side track coupled to two or three empty freight cars. The fire was burning low and there was some steam on. I Judged that the engineer and fireman had arrived not long before and turned in either in the station or in one of two or three houses that were scattered about “I nted near a railroad yard as a boy and used to get the engineers to let me run with them, sometimes firing for them; so 1 knew something about a locomotive. I got up into the cab, opened the furnace door and saw that the fire was nearly out I calculated the possibility of getting a ride northward on the machine, but I’d have to fire up before trying it I was pretty desperate and ready for any risk. So I dropped one lump of coal after another into the fire box, not daring to make the noise of shoveling it in. I worked half an hour at this, and concluded that whoever was running that engine must be pretty sleepy, for no one appeared to interfere with me. I should have raked out the ashes, but I didn’t dare do that, for the noise it would make. Pretty soon the steam began to make a. noise escaping, and I didn’t dare defer my departure any longer. I uncoupled the box cars, mounted the cab and made as noiseless a start as possible. “My heart wafc beating wildly, I keeping my eye to the rear, but when- I came to a turn around a rise in the ground without seeing any one behind me I gathered courage and let her go. I got over some five miles In about fifteen minutes, when I stopped and, taking a file from a tool box in the cab, climbed a telegraph pole and cut the wires. This was to keep any one from heading me off. “Considering that I wore butternut I had a pretty fair show to pass along the road without being stopped—that is if no telegram had been sent to stop me before I’d cut the wires—and I didn’t think any one would suspect a Yankee had stolen the engine. After I had passed the first station I wouldn’t likely be called back or stopped by telegraph. If I could have a free road I wouldn’t fear getting on, but all those southern roads had but a single track in those days,-and 1 would have to stop and switch to let trains go by. “Five miles from where 1 started 1

passed a small station. It was stlO early, though it was broad daylight, and no one was op and about I knew by this that no information abont me had got through—at least to this point —from the one where I had taken the engine. 1 pushed on. hut stopped after going a few miles to rake out the cinders. When this was done I knew I would soon get steam enough to go as fast as the roadbed would permit, which was not very rapid, for there had been no work done on it since the war commenced, and it was very rough. So long as I had stopped I concluded to do some more cutting of the telegraph wires, and. climbing a pole, nipped them again. “In a few miles more I came to another station. This one was open. I slowed up and called to a man Inside: “ ‘Bring me a time table, quick.’ “He took a soiled table from his pocket and handed it to me. “ ‘Anything coming?* I asked. “ ‘You’ll meet No. 5 at 8.,’ he replied “‘Next station?’ “ ‘Next hot one.’ “ ‘Any side track at the next?” “ ‘Yes. What you doin’ runnln’ wild this way?’ “ ‘Government business.’ was my reply as I rolled away. “I glanced at the time table and found the man was right In two miles there was a station. Three miles further on was B. I resolved to go to the next station, get on a side track and wait. I soon covered the two miles separating me from it. got on to the switch and In ten minutes a passenger train went by. I saw the conductor leaning out and looking back at me, but he didn’t seem to think it worth his while to Inquire what I was doing there. “Of course I couldn’t get on this way very long. I was sure to be stopped In time and called upon to give an account of myself. So I bethought myself what story I would telL 1 might say I was bearer of dispatches from one general to another, but 1 knew nothing about the southern commanders of that region. While I was thinking I passed another station. A man was sitting on a box reading a morning paper. I slowed down and asked him the news.

“ ‘Thar’s been a fight on the Charleston and Savannah railroad at Pocotalego,’ he said. “ ‘Who’s in command of our fellows?’ I asked. “ ‘General Beauregard.’ “This was enough for me. I would pretend to be going for ammunition. It was well that I had found some story to tell, for at the very next station I reached I found a freight train standing on the track stopping my way. I pulled up In front of tl\e locomotive. The engineer of the freight was sitting in his cab reading about the battle the day before. I yelled to him to back up and take the siding. He called the conductor, who asked who I was. “ ‘You’d ought to know by my uniform,’ I said, ‘that I’m a Confederate soldier. You get your train out of my way pretty quick.’ “ ‘What right have you to order me about?’ “ ‘What right? I’m making a quick run for ammunition by General Beauregard’s order. If I’m delayed I’ll let the general know who delayed me.’ “That was too much for him. He ordered his engineer to back up to the siding, and I started putting on full speed as I proceeded. “I was in such luck about the battle having occurred Just in the nick of time and In thinking of my ammunition scheme that I considered it probable I might get through the network ahead of me. I knew that certain parts of North Carolina were full of Union people who would hide me and help me get on northward. “Fortunately for me there wasn’t many trains coming southward, and by working the ammunition story I managed to get on till noon without being stopped. Then I saw by smoke ahead that I was coming to a city, which by my time table I Judged to be Raleigh. It was one thing to pass small stations, where the agent had little to do with the running of trains, and another to get through a city where the dispatching was done. While the country was yet open I pulled up at a station. The agent was sitting at a telegraph machine with the window open, and he hailed me. “ ‘Say,’ he said, ‘I just got word over the wires that there’s a wild locomotive cavortin’ over the road, and I’m ordered to stop it Are you the fellow that’s running itT “ ‘Yes. I’m after ammunition for the troops below. I’ve got to git into Raleigh right off.’ “With that I opened her up, and away I went. Looking back. I saw the agent standing on the platform gaping at me. '» “I knew now that my run was ended. But I wouldn’t leave my locomotive until I had put it on a side track, since I didn’t wish to be the cause of an accident. But near the city j*de tracks were more frequent, and, coming to one of them, I put the machine on it and took to the woods. “My Confederate trappings were a protection to me, and I felt comparatively safe. I told a boy I met that I was looking for a Union man whose name I couldn’t remember, and be told me to go Into the next hamlet and inquire. He said they were all Union people there. “I went-to the house, found the own er and, having made sure IJiat he was on my side, told him whawl had been doing. He took me out to a deserted bakery and hid me In the ovens. 1 remained there till my friend told me that it would be safe to go farther, and then I worked my way. traveling by night and hiding by day. over the mountains into east Tennessee.”

“I SAW THE AGENT LOOKING AFTER HE."