Kitabı oku: «Marcy, the Refugee», sayfa 14

CHAPTER XV.
MARCY SEES SOMEBODY

If you would like to know why Captain Burrows (that was the name of the officer who commanded the Union troopers) did not find in Mrs. Gray's house any articles that were contraband of war, we will ride with him and his company long enough to find out.

During the days of which we write scouting was a necessary duty, but it sometimes happened that it was one of the most disagreeable, particularly when it fell to the lot of a gentleman like Captain Burrows, and his orders compelled him to enter private houses whose only inmates were supposed to be women and children; but now and then these scouts found able-bodied men in uniform concealed in dwellings that were thought to be occupied wholly by non-combatants. During the Yazoo Pass expedition the gunboat to which we belonged was ordered to search all the houses along the banks of the Coldwater and Tallahatchie rivers, although we knew that that important duty had already been performed by the soldiers. In one house, whose female occupants vociferously affirmed that all the men who belonged there were in Vicksburg and had not been near home for six months, a belt containing a sword and revolver was found under a bed. That was as good evidence as we wanted that the man who owned the belt was not far away, and after a short search he was discovered in the cellar. No doubt there were better hiding-places about the house, but the blue-jackets came up so suddenly that he did not have time to go to them. A little further search resulted in the finding of some important dispatches which the Confederate had concealed in a barrel of corned beef; but when its contents were poked over by a bayonet, the dispatches betrayed themselves by rising to the surface. So you see it was sometimes necessary to search private houses; but like Mr. Watkins, the gunboat officer who took Marcy Gray from his bed to serve as pilot in the Union navy, Captain Barrows wished that some other officer had been detailed to do the work. Although he went from Beardsley's house straight to Mrs. Gray's, he had no intention of searching it. He knew more of Marcy than Tom and Mark thought, and perhaps he could have told them a few things concerning themselves that would have made them open: their eyes. He had halted and questioned every negro he met on his scout, and he knew the name of every Union man and every rebel in the settlement. When he arrived at the house he did not lead his men into the yard, nor did he ride in himself. He dismounted and went in on foot, and Marcy, who had seen him coming, opened the door without giving him time to knock.

"I know you are Marcy Gray, from the descriptions I have heard of you," was the way in which the captain began his business. "I am told that you have any number of dangerous weapons as well as a Confederate flag in your possession."

"I plead guilty," replied Marcy. "Will you walk in?"

He was not at all afraid of the officer, for the latter smiled at him in a way that put him quite at his ease. Besides, if the captain knew anything about him, as his words seemed to indicate, he must be aware that he had willingly served under the Union flag, and under the other one because he could not help himself. Marcy led him into the room in which his mother was waiting, and the captain straightway quieted her fears, if she had any, by saying:

"I am on a scout, madam, looking for rebel soldiers and fire-arms that may be concealed in the settlement; but, so far as you are concerned, my visit is merely a matter of form."

"Take this chair," said Marcy, "and I will be back in a moment."

The Confederate flag had been removed from its place on the wall, but the boy knew where to find it; and when he brought it into the room he brought with it his fine rifle and shotgun, his revolvers, a bed-quilt and the letter that Captain Benton had given him; and Julius, who followed at his heels, brought as many more guns, which belonged to the absent Jack. He was gone but a few minutes, but quite long enough to enable Mrs. Gray to give the visitor some scraps of his history; and as her story was confirmed by those he had heard from the negroes along his line of march, he was so well satisfied of Marcy's loyalty that when the latter came in and deposited his burdens on the table, the officer had not the least intention of taking any of them away with him. He spread the Confederate flag upon the floor so that he could see it; examined the guns one after another, and inquired about the shooting on the plantation; and held Captain Benton's letter up to the light, to see if he could read what was written upon it.

"There's a fire on the hearth, sir," Marcy reminded him.

"I know there is; but if I should bring out the words by holding this paper to the heat, and it should some day fall into the hands of the rebels, it might make serious trouble for you," said the captain. "If such a thing happens I don't want to be the means of it, for I know that you were of service to our fleet during the fight at Roanoke Island."

"I was there, sir," answered the boy modestly. "And if you say so, I will rip up this quilt and show you the Union flag that waved over my head while I was acting as Captain Benton's pilot."

"A Union flag in this house, alongside of a Confederate!" exclaimed the captain, who was surprised to hear it. "I should think you would be afraid to have it about you. I understand that the most of the people in this neighborhood are the worst of rebels."

Marcy replied that although there were some Union people in the settlement the Confederates outnumbered them two to one, but he did not believe that any of the latter knew there was a Union banner in the house. Then he went on to explain how and when it came into his possession, and again offered to produce it; but Captain Burrows said he would not put him to so much trouble. He asked a few leading questions which he knew Marcy could not answer unless he had really "been there," after which he took his cap from the table, saying as he did so:

"If you will take a friend's advice, you will conceal those guns, as well as any other articles of value you may have, somewhere outside, and keep Captain Benton's letter where you can put your hand on it at any hour of the day or night. It is probable that some of our scouts will be along here every few days, and I am afraid there will be some among them who will insist on going through your house. Besides, the Home Guards may need those guns to arm some of their men."

"Home Guards?" echoed Marcy. "What are they?"

"Well, they are men who, although they haven't the courage to enlist in the army to fight us, are perfectly willing to act as police in the rear of the Confederate army. It is their intention to patrol the settlement, night and day, until they drive out every man who is suspected of Union sentiments."

Marcy looked bewildered, and his mother was frightened.

"Is it possible that you haven't heard of it?" continued the captain. "Then it proves the truth of the old saying that one needs to go away from home to learn the news. We know all about it, and we also know that these Home Guards intend to operate as they do in Kentucky, Tennessee, and Missouri; that is, they will be industrious and peaceful farmers during the daytime, and thieves and murderers at night. But mind you, as fast as we can locate them, we shall run them in and hold them as prisoners of war. I hope that you, and the rest of the Union people about here, will be watchful and keep us posted."

"This is news to me," said Marcy, as soon as his surprise would allow him to speak. "I never dreamed of such a thing."

"Then I am very glad I mentioned it," said the officer.

"And I am certain I can give you the name of every man in the company," added Marcy. "What do you suppose put the idea into their heads?"

"I am sure I do not know, unless it was that fight in Hampton Roads, which created the wildest excitement all over the country. The Richmond people were very jubilant, while our Washington folks were correspondingly depressed."

"That is another piece of news," said Mrs. Gray. "To what particular battle do you refer, Captain?"

"Don't you know anything about that, either?" exclaimed the officer, throwing open his coat, and thrusting his hand into an inside pocket. "It was a fight between our fleet and six Confederate steamers – five wooden vessels and one iron-clad. It lasted the better part of two days. At the end of the first day the advantage was all with the Confederates, who captured and burned one of our best ships and sunk another, without any serious damage to themselves. These papers, which I shall be glad to leave with you, tell all about it, and they will also give you a faint idea of the consternation that seized upon everybody up North, when the story got abroad that the rebels had one single vessel that could cope with Uncle Sam's entire navy. Every city along the coast, as well as the capital, was supposed to be at the mercy of that one iron-clad; but when she came out, on the morning of the 9th, to complete her work of destruction, she ran against a snag, in the shape of a little Union iron-clad, not more than half her size, which had come upon the scene during the night."

"And did those two iron-clads fight?" exclaimed Marcy, who was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement. "Which whipped?"

"Of course they fought, for that was what our vessel, the Monitor, went down there for. She came in the night and anchored behind the hull of one of our big ships, so that the rebel boat did not see her until she was close upon her. They had the hardest kind of a fight, and our vessel whipped."

Marcy did not break out into cheers as the captain no doubt thought he would, but settled contentedly back in his chair and drew a long breath of relief.

"Our fellows did not sink the Virginia as they tried to do," continued Captain Burrows, "but they gave her such a pounding that it was all she could do to draw out of the fight and go back to Norfolk. We had the best of the engagement, for the rebel boat failed to accomplish the object she had in view when she came out, which was to sink the three frigates that were aground off Fortress Monroe."

"And you think it was during the excitement consequent upon the first day's victory that our neighbors were led to organize the Home Guards?" said Mrs. Gray.

"I certainly think it had much to do with it," answered Captain Burrows. "You see these 'stay-at-homers,' as I have heard them called, jumped to the conclusion that the Yankees were whipped, and when the war is over they want to be able to say that they helped do it."

"Pardon my curiosity," said Marcy. "But have you seen Ben Hawkins?"

"I don't think there will be any harm in telling you that I had a short talk with him before I came here. I met him on the road, and he volunteered so much information concerning his neighbors that I became suspicious of him. But I have since learned that he told me nothing but the truth. He is a paroled prisoner and, I may add, a warm friend to you and your mother."

"And you do not think it would be unwise to trust him?" said Mrs. Gray, who had listened with surprise to her son's account of the speech he had heard Hawkins deliver in the post-office.

"No, I do not. He is very bitter against the Confederacy, as many of his comrades are; he has had enough of soldiering, and if I were in your place I think I should look upon him as a friend."

"I thank you for saying so much," replied Marcy. "I am sure we need friends bad enough."

"And don't forget," said the captain as he rose to go, "that we are not here for fun. I shall report you to my commander as a staunch Union family, and if your rebel neighbors prove troublesome and you will let us know, we will surely punish them for it. I wish you good-day."

"Now there's a friend worth having," said Marcy, when he and his mother were once more alone. "He brought us bad news, though. He did not want to say too much against his comrades, but he said enough, and I think we had better hide your silver and jewelry before some rascal in blue walks off with them."

"No doubt it would be a wise thing to do," replied Mrs. Gray. "He said he heard that there were arms and a flag in the house; have you any idea who told him?"

"Beardsley is the chap," answered Marcy readily. "Two or three times I was on the point of asking what the captain said to him, but I was afraid he might not answer me. Beardsley can't get me into trouble with the Yankees, and he might as well give up trying. Now let's read about the fight in Hampton Roads."

"What about the Home Guards?" said his mother.

"I will take a ride presently and see if I can learn something about them. They must have been very sly in getting up their company, for I don't believe our darkies knew the first thing about it. If they did they would have told us. I wonder if it wouldn't be a good plan for me to join it."

"Why, Marcy, they would not accept you!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray.

"That's what I think; but if they refuse it will show me that I had better be on my guard, won't it?"

"I am glad to know that Hawkins is our friend."

"When I met him in Nashville, and he took the trouble to cross the road and shake hands with me and say that I did just right while I was on Captain Benton's gunboat, I knew right where he stood," answered Marcy. "I can see him as often as I have anything to say to him, for he is loafing about the settlement all the time."

While Marcy talked he was looking through one of the papers Captain Burrows had left behind for the account of that famous fight in Hampton Roads, and when he found it he read it aloud. The result of the first day's struggle must have been alarming as well as discouraging to the loyal people in the North, and the gloomy predictions that were made in the papers concerning the terrible things the Virginia was going to do when she finished the Union fleet at Fortress Monroe, were enough to make Marcy feel gloomy himself. But the account of the next fight was most inspiriting. The little Monitor proved to be more than a match for her ponderous antagonist. Washington would not be bombarded, the blockading fleet, which the Virginia was to sink or capture at her leisure, was still on top of the water and likely to stay there, and the recognition of the Southern Confederacy by France and England was as far off as ever.

"There's one thing I like about Northern papers," said Marcy, when he had read every line he could find that in any way related to the matter that was just then uppermost in his mind. "They always tell the truth. If their people are whipped they don't hesitate to say so, but ours gloss it over and try to make it appear that every fight is a Confederate victory. According to our Newbern papers the South hasn't lost a single place that she couldn't spare as well as not. Donelson and Fort Henry were outposts that we did not intend to hold anyway, and Roanoke Island was of so little consequence that the Richmond authorities did not garrison it as heavily as they would if they had wanted to keep it. It's the worst kind of bosh, and everybody in the South knows it. Now then," he added, addressing himself to Julius, who, since he followed his master into the room, had stood in one corner hearing and seeing all that was said and done, "put these guns and things where they belong, and stand by to-night after dark to help me hide them in the garden. You heard what that Federal officer said about the Home Guards, didn't you? Well, what do you know of them?"

"Not de fustest think, Marse Mahcy," answered the boy earnestly. "Dey gettin' to be mighty jubus of de niggahs round hyar, an' nobody nebber say nuffin whar Julius kin ketch it."

"Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you do catch on to anything come straight to me with it; do you understand? Now I am going to ride out for a while."

"Do you intend to say anything about our visitors?" inquired his mother.

"If I meet anyone who knows they were here I don't see how I can avoid speaking of them," was Marcy's reply. "But circumstances will have to determine what I shall say about them. I don't mean to let every Tom, Dick, and Harry know how very friendly that captain was with us. I don't think it would be just the thing. Good-by."

"Look a hyar, Marse Mahcy," began Julius; and then he hesitated for as much as a minute before he went on to say, "You know dat niggah Mose?"

"Yes, I know Mose," answered Marcy, and he might have added that he knew him to be the laziest and most worthless black man on the plantation. "What of him?"

"Well, sar, moster," replied the boy, "when I fotch in dem guns an' luf 'em on de table I slip out de do' kase I aint wantin' to see no horns an' hoofs like Marse Jack say de Yankees done got, an' I see Mose talkin' wid dem soldiers in de road. Den he slip thoo 'em into de bresh on de odder side de road an' never come out no mo'; an' den I come hyar to tol' you."

"Do you mean to say that Mose has run away?" cried Marcy and his mother in concert.

"Yes, sar, missus; dat's what I mean," replied Julius.

Marcy was much surprised to hear it, but after all it was nothing more nor less than he had predicted when the war first broke out. The negroes knew to a man that the contest between the North and South would decide whether they were to be bondsmen or free, and it was natural that their sympathies should be on the side of those who did not believe in slavery, and that they should desire to be with them.

"You are quite sure that the Yankee soldiers did not take Mose away, are you?" said Marcy, after a little pause.

Yes, Julius was positive about that. When the Federal captain left the house Julius had hastened to the front porch in order to satisfy himself on that very point, and had taken pains to see that Mose was not with the soldiers when they rode away. Mose had gone on his own hook.

"I am afraid he will repent when it is too late," said Mrs. Gray, with a sigh of regret. "Mose is too old, and too badly crippled with rheumatism, to be of any use to his new friends."

"I suppose you and Morris will be going next," said Marcy, nodding at Julius, "and that, if I want my filly brought to the door, I can bring her myself."

"Oh, hursh, honey," replied the boy. "I aint a-keerin what dat old niggah Morris gwine do, but Julius aint gwine run away."

"I think you are better off here than you would be anywhere else. The Yankees believe that those who don't work can't eat, and that would let you out so far as grub is concerned. You never did a hand's turn in your life. Now go and tell Morris to saddle my horse, and then come back, and put away these guns as I told you."

When Julius left the room Marcy put on his hat, and went out to ask if any of the other house servants knew that old Mose had run away, and was not much surprised to find that they all knew of it and had been expecting it, for Mose had given them due-notice of what he intended to do. He had often been heard to say that if the Yankee soldiers ever came to the plantation he would go away with them, and he had kept his word. Some planters in the neighborhood would have said, "Good riddance to bad rubbish," for of late years Mose had not done work enough to pay for the corn meal and bacon he ate, let alone the clothes he wore; but Marcy felt sorry for him, and predicted that Mose would repent of his bargain in less than a month.

"Marse Mahcy, will the Yankees luf him come back if he wants to?" inquired Morris.

"I reckon not," was the boy's answer. "The Federal general, Butler, has declared slaves to be contraband of war, and I don't think they will give Mose up any more than they would surrender a mule they had captured. Now, what do you black ones know about the Home Guards?"

The expression of bewilderment that came upon the ebony faces by which he was surrounded prepared Marcy for the reply. The servants, one and all, declared that they did not know what he meant; and this made it plain that the rebels in the settlement were beginning to learn that their black people could not be trusted to keep their secrets. He went into the house to tell his mother what he had learned, and finding his filly at the door when he came back, he mounted and rode away.

The first white man he saw was one who could have told him all about the Home Guards if he had been so disposed. It was Captain Beardsley, who was still in the field with his negroes, Tom Allison and Mark Goodwin having left him a few minutes before Marcy came up. The man did not stop his work and come to the fence, nor did he look up as Marcy rode by; and this made the latter believe that his old captain had some reason for wishing to avoid him.

"He is going to spring something else on me, and before long, too," was what Marcy said to himself as he passed on down the road. "When Beardsley won't talk he is dangerous."

That he had shot close to the mark was made evident to Marcy before ten minutes more had passed over his head. A short distance farther on was the gate which gave entrance to the carriage-way that ran by the ruins of Beardsley's home. It was wide open, and as he rode up he saw a horseman passing through it. Marcy had a fair view of him, and recognized him at once as the man Hanson, his mother's old overseer; and he was riding one of Beardsley's horses.