April 12, 1862

April 12, 1862:  The Andrews Raid—Or, The Great Locomotive Chase:  In Georgia occurs one of the most daring covert operations of the war.  James Andrews of the Union army, with nineteen volunteers, hijack the locomotive called The General, in a bid to drive the train north, burning bridges as they went.  In conjunction with this move, Gen. Ormsby Mitchel marched his division of Federal troops from Shelbyville, Tennessee, to Huntsville, Alabama, with the intent of moving against  Chattanooga with less interference, due to the Rebels being unable to bring up reinforcements fast since the railroad would be in operable.  On April 11, Mitchel’s division arrives in Huntsville and capture it, and Andrews and his men arrive in Marietta, Georgia.  This morning, Andrews and his crew successfully steal The General, and begin speeding north.  Railroad employees are able to get to a working telegraph station to send a warning up and down the line before the Yankee operatives begin cutting the wires.  Fuller, Murphy, and Cain, three railroad men, find a handcar, and begin pumping to catch the Yankees.  Meanwhile, Andrews and his men tear up the track at one point, and clip telegraph wires.  When Fuller and Murphy reach the broken track, they commandeer another locomotive, and add some Confederate infantrymen, and speed after Andrews.  Since The General now could no longer slow down to burn bridges, the Yankees speed northward to keep away from the chase behind them.  As they near Chattanooga, at Ringgold station, they are out of fuel.  Andrews instructs his men to jump and scatter, but within a week all of Andrews’ Raiders are caught and imprisoned.

---Capt. William Thompson Lusk, of the Union Army  at Port Royal, reports on the effect of Spring on South Carolina, and offers some intriguing comments on how cultural and economical change may win the war:

I hardly know how, writing from peaceful Beaufort, I can find themes so exciting as to gratify the tastes of the public, used to tales of victories purchased at bloody rates; yet the importance of the work now quietly being wrought at Beaufort must not be underrated.

Here too, as well as on the splendid fields of the West, the spirit of John Brown is marching on. Toward the close of last autumn our troops entered Beaufort, then deserted by its inhabitants, and looking sad and desolate. Now the winter has passed away and the spring is far advanced. Nature has put on her most lovable hues. The dense dark foliage of the pine and the magnolia harmoniously mingle with the bright new leaves of the forest. The streets of the city are once more busy with life. Vessels float in the harbor. Plantations are being cultivated. Wharves are being built. Business is prosperous. And the quondam proud resort of the proudest of Aristocrats is being inundated with Yankees acquainted with low details regarding Dollars and Cents. There are all sorts of Yankee ventures in town, from the man with the patent armor recommended by McClellan, which no one buys, to the enterprising individual who manufactures pies in the old Connecticut style, and who has laid the foundation of an immense fortune.

And then he comments satirically on politics and generalship:

Can anything be more beautiful than the strategy of our Leaders, which strips war of its terrors and makes it so eminently safe? . . . Now there is no doubt that our Army ought long ago to have been in possession of both Charleston and Savannah. Common sense teaches us that much, although we know nothing whatever of military affairs forsooth, and still less of the peculiar circumstances which happen to govern the action of our Generals. Well, when we see matters in this condition, common sense teaches us that the proper remedy is to decapitate incompetency, and to put the “right man in the right place.” The proper time for doing this is when, after long and earnest labor, a Commander is seen to be ready to strike a blow. Then is the moment to clamor loudly for his dismissal, and insist that another be put in his place, and when this one shall reap the harvest his predecessor sowed, we will all nod our heads approvingly at such evidence of our own ineffable wisdom. This is decidedly the most pleasant mode of proceeding for a public unacquainted with military matters but governed by common sense, and it is so satisfactory to all parties concerned, excepting perhaps the poor devil that gets decapitated.

---Sarah Morgan of Baton Rouge writes in her diary about the losses to her family since the war began---a brother killed in a duel, her father dead of natural causes, and the departure of her three remaining brothers into the army and navy of the South---while remembering a social event in her pre-war life:

And these days that are going by remind me of Hal, too. I am walking in our footsteps of last year. The eighth was the day we gave him a party, on his return home. I see him so distinctly standing near the pier table, talking to Mr. Sparks, whom he had met only that morning, and who, three weeks after, had Harry’s blood upon his hands. . . . All those dancing there that night have undergone trial and affliction since. Father is dead, and Harry. Mr. Trezevant lies at Corinth with his skull fractured by a bullet; every young man there has been in at least one battle since, and every woman has cried over her son, brother, or sweetheart, going away to the wars, or lying sick and wounded. And yet we danced that night, and never thought of bloodshed! The week before Louisiana seceded, Jack Wheat stayed with us, and we all liked him so much, and he thought so much of us; — and last week — a week ago to-day — he was killed on the battle-field of Shiloh.