the time lying at Murfreesborough, and was moving on to Shelbyville, a very pleasant town on Duck River. The rebels held Chattanooga and the railroad from that place to Atlanta. Thus troops and munitions of war could easily be transported from one of these important points to the other. Could we succeed in cutting the railroad between these two points and in destroying the bridges we might then seize Chattanooga before reinforcements could be sent from Atlanta for its relief. We should thus gain possession of all of East Tennessee. The rebel army would be cut in two. And, indeed, injury would be inflicted which seemed almost to threaten the very existence of the Confederacy.

It was not possible at that time to send an army by a long march to attack the rebels, who were stationed in considerable force along the road, and to take it from them by main force. The most feasible plan was to send a detachment of bold men, in the common dress of the country, on a secret expedition to burn the bridges. The only way in which this daring exploit could be accomplished was for the adventurers to work their way through the rebel lines to Atlanta, there seize by surprise a locomotive, urge it at its fullest speed toward Chattanooga, stopping only to apply the torch to the bridges behind them, and to rush on by Chattanooga till they reached a point of safety within our army lines near Huntsville, to which point General Mitchel was rapidly moving.

A deed of more perilous and romantic courage has perhaps never been undertaken. The results to be attained were commensurate with the hazards of the adventure. The Southern Confederacy, a prominent rebel journal, commenting upon the enterprise, says:

"The mind and heart shrink back appalled at the bare contemplation of the awful consequences which would have followed the success of this one act. We doubt whether the victory of Manassas or Corinth were worth as much to us as the frustration of this one coup d'état. It is not by any means certain that the annihilation of Beauregard's whole army at Corinth would have been so fatal to us as would have been the burning of the bridges at that time by these men."

Twenty-four young men of established reputation for intelligence and bravery were selected for the chivalric adventure. In parties of two and three, in citizen's dress, they met at an appointed rendezvous in a grove near Shelbyville, Tennessee. It was Monday the 10th of April, 1862. Here they matured their plans. Assuming that they were Kentuckians, disgusted with the Government of Abraham Lincoln, and that they were seeking an asylum in the South, they broke up into squads of three or four and traversed as rapidly as possible the sparsely settled country to rendezvous on Thursday, the 13th, at Chattanooga, in the midst of one of the thronging encampments of the rebels. The distance to be traveled on foot was a little over

one hundred miles. Through multiplied difficulties and many hair-breadth escapes they worked their way along over the rugged spurs of the Cumberland mountains until they reached the Tennessee River, nearly opposite Chattanooga.

There was a horse ferry-boat there, and a great and motley crowd of people drawn by curiosity or the exigencies of war were waiting to be conveyed across. After many embarrassments the adventurers succeeded in crossing the river, having eluded all the surveillance of the patrols and guards. The news had just reached Chattanooga that General Mitchel had taken possession of Huntsville, on the railroad, scarcely one hundred miles west of their encampment. These tidings created great excitement and almost consternation in the rebel ranks. Chattanooga had been until about that time a small, unknown village, buried from the world in the midst of towering mountains, and situated on the eastern or rather southern bank of the Tennessee. The little town presented an air of great tumult and bustle, crowded as it then was with soldiers and civilians and all the followers of an army.

Our adventurers, mingling with the crowd and wearing the common dress of the country, hastened to the dépôt, purchased their tickets for Atlanta and entered the cars. Some of their comrades had arrived earlier, and had already taken a train of cars for Marietta, but a few miles this side of Atlanta. It was late in the afternoon. The cars were crowded mostly with soldiers, so that there was scarcely standing room. The rebels had just received false news of some astounding victories. They were greatly elated. As the cars rolled along jokes, laughter, and oaths rang through the night air.

Marietta was the point at which they were to take the cars preparatory for their bold achievement. At midnight the cars reached that station. The party repaired to different hotels, having arranged to meet in the dépôt at four o'clock in the morning, to take the train going back to Chattanooga. J. J. Andrews, of Kentucky, a man of extraordinary character, and who was perfectly familiar with the South, was chief of the expedition, and managed all its details with great sagacity. By the casualties of the journey two of the young men were absent, and there were but twenty-two who took passage on the train.

A short ride brought them to a station called Big Shanty. There was at this place an encampment of nearly ten thousand conscripts. Here the cars stopped for a few moments while the engineer, conductor, and many of the passengers stepped into an eating-house for refreshments.

Andrews rose from his seat and said, calmly, "Let us go, boys!" Mingling with the crowd of passengers, and of course attracting no attention, they moved forward leisurely to the head of the train. Two of them, W. W. Brown and William Knight, from Ohio, were accomplished railroad engineers. One of the men

stealthily uncoupled the baggage cars, upon which the rest had clambered from the remainder of the train, while the two engineers, who were at their post, pulled open the valve and put on all steam. In less time than we have taken to describe it the locomotive was rushing forward at its highest speed. There were four or five rebel regiments within forty rods of the spot from which the locomotive started. We may imagine the bewilderment with which they gazed upon the receding engine as it disappeared in the distance.

Our brave adventurers were too much exhilarated by the excitement of the hour to observe the amazement with which the sudden flight of the engine was regarded by the thousands who were grouped around. Onward they rushed, with almost lightning speed, in silent sublimity of emotion too deep to find expression in smiles or words. Thus far every thing had succeeded according to their most sanguine expectations. With some anxiety, however, they looked upon the telegraph wires, running along by their side. Though they had taken the precaution to start from a dépôt where there was no telegraph station, still it was a matter of much moment that as speedily as possible they should cut the wires.

Having run about four miles they stopped, and while one of their number, John Scott, of Ohio, climbed the pole and sawed off the wire, others tore up a rail to retard any pursuers. They were now all overjoyed with their success, and warmly they congratulated each other with the prospect of the triumphant termination of their chivalric enterprise.

Andrews had taken the precaution to ascertain what down trains he had to pass, and where to pass them. There was, as they supposed, but one train for them to meet on that day. But in consequence of some military necessity the rebels had put on that day two special trains. When they had arrived at the point where the down train was to pass, quite to their consternation they found that it bore a red flag, thus announcing that another train was following behind. They had, however, still the track for a little time to themselves, and they moved along slowly, for they were ahead of time, to a side track where they were to wait for the special train to pass.

Thus they lost twenty-five precious minutes. It was an awful loss. The pursuers were now upon their track. As soon as the waited-for train was in sight, and they were just ready to

push on with renewed velocity, much to their dismay they saw that this train also bore a red flag, announcing still another train behind. They, however, pushed on to the next station, hoping there to pass the train. In the mean time they cut the wires between the two stations, and hurriedly threw such impediments as were at hand behind them upon the track. Just as they were trying with almost the energies of despair to wrench up one of the rails, they heard the whistle of an engine in pursuit. With frantic strength they broke the rail in two and threw the fragment upon their car as they sprang upon it.

Encouraged by the hope that this would delay their pursuers for some time, they rushed onward and reached a spot where they passed the down-coming train in safety. They now goaded their engine to its utmost possible speed; at times attaining a velocity of sixty miles an hour. Still the foe crowded closely behind. No longer was there any thought of burning the bridges or tearing up the road. Indeed only a miracle could enable them to escape with their lives. Onward and still onward they dashed, passing stations and villages with meteoric speed and roar, exciting amazement in all beholders as