_The Spy at Richmond.--Earthworks Around the Rebel Capital.--An
Unexpected Meeting.--Pistols for Two.--A Reconciliation.--Safe Return to
Washington._
On Monday morning Webster left Grove Wharf, on the regular steam packet,
for Richmond, where he arrived on the evening of the same day. Here he
separated from his companions and made his way alone to the Spotswood
Hotel, where he registered, and proceeded to make himself at home. He
was now in the rebel capital, surrounded on all sides by the enemies of
his country, with no friends to whom he could apply in case of danger,
and burdened with a mission, upon the successful performance of which
his life depended. It was a mission, too, requiring such delicate and
skillful labor, that a man less iron-nerved would have trembled at the
very contemplation of it; but Webster, whose courage and self-command
never deserted him in the most trying moments of his life, coolly
reviewed the situation and laid his plans in a systematic manner for
future operations.
The next day, he busied himself about the city, delivering his letters,
forming acquaintances, and paving the way for an interview with the
Secretary of War, his object being to obtain from that high official, if
possible, a pass to Manassas and Winchester. He was informed by General
Jones, Post-Adjutant to General Winder, the Provost-Marshal at Richmond,
and commander of the forces there, that no interview could be obtained
with the Secretary of War, except upon business especially connected
with the military department, as they were daily expecting an attack
from the Federal Army of the Potomac, and the Secretary was wholly
engaged with officers of the army.
Among the acquaintances which Webster formed, was a young man by the
name of William Campbell, originally a Baltimorean, to whom he brought a
letter of introduction from the father of the young man. Campbell
treated my operative with the utmost friendliness and courtesy, and
invited him to a drive during the afternoon. The invitation was
accepted, and as the weather was all that could be desired, they enjoyed
a very pleasant afternoon. They visited the environs for the purpose of
viewing the defenses, and Webster noted the fact that there were
seventeen very superior earthwork batteries around the town, forming a
rude semicircle with either end resting on the James river. The
entrenchments around each of these batteries were from twelve to
fourteen feet wide at the top, and about ten feet deep. Some of the
batteries were designed for six guns and some for sixteen. They were
nearly all completed at this time, and the work upon them had been done
exclusively by negro slaves. In most cases they were mounted with their
full complement of guns, varying in caliber, from thirty-two to
sixty-four pounds. The land around Richmond consists of hills and
valleys, and the batteries were planted on the most elevated and
commanding points. The heaviest of these commanded the turnpikes and
railroads which formed the approaches from Manassas and Fredericksburg.
After visiting the batteries, Webster went with Campbell to the ordnance
department, where he was introduced to several persons who had charge of
the ordnance stores, and from whom he elicited much valuable
information. Among other things, he was informed by the Colonel in
charge, that the "Bermuda," an English vessel which had recently run the
blockade, had brought over for the Confederate government twelve
thousand Enfield rifles, a large supply of cavalry swords and a number
of rifled cannon; and that, upon trial, the rifled cannon were found to
be more accurate than any of their brass pieces.
On the following day Webster concluded to make another inspection of the
earthworks around the city. He went alone and on foot this time, as he
desired to make some notes and calculations, which he was unable to do
in the presence of others without running an unnecessary risk. It was a
fine, brisk morning, the air was slightly tinged with the coolness of
approaching winter, and the spy occupied the entire forenoon in
strolling leisurely from point to point, apparently with the single
object of idling away a few leisure hours. Now he passed some men
engaged in planting a cannon on one of the redoubts, and again he saw a
group of slaves busily at work with pickaxes and shovels, but no one
seemed to pay any attention to him.
About noon he came upon a scene, which, though characteristic of the
time and place, was rather a novel sight to a Northern man, and he
stopped to view it with considerable interest. In a sunny spot near the
river bank about a dozen negro laborers were gathered, their
surroundings showing that they had just left off work for the enjoyment
of their allotted hour of rest, at noon. Having finished their mid-day
repast, they were now filling their time by indulging in a species of
amusement peculiar to their race. On a pine log sat a jolly-looking old
negro, whose hair was white as snow and whose face was black as ebony,
grinning, and rolling his head from side to side, while he patted "Juba"
with great energy and skill, on his knees, chest and head. The other
darkies were dancing to the "music," and apparently enjoying the sport
to an unlimited degree.
The detective was amused at the spectacle, but this feeling gave way to
one of surprise and curiosity, as he looked more intently at the
white-haired old man who was acting as _musician_. There was something
strikingly familiar in those black, smiling features. Surely this was
not the first time he had seen that face, or witnessed that tremendous
grin. Where had he met this darky before?
Suddenly his recollection was quickened. The person in question was none
other than Uncle Gallus, the servant of ex-Governor Morton, whom he had
seen in my office at Washington, on the day that I had questioned him
about his mistress. This fact was clear enough to Webster, but somewhat
surprising, withal. He remembered that Uncle Gallus had, on that
occasion, represented the Mortons as very indulgent slave-owners, who
never permitted him to perform any hard labor; yet here he was, in the
role of a common workman, employed upon the fortifications around
Richmond.
Whatever had caused this change, however, it did not appear to weigh
heavily upon the old darky, for at this moment he was in the very
ecstasy of delight, as he patted inspiration into the nimble feet of his
companions. The other darkies danced until their faces shone with
perspiration, and the manner in which their loose-jointed limbs swung
and wriggled, suggested the idea that those members were hung on pivots.
They leaped and vaulted, and flung their heels in the airs, as if they
were so many jumping-jacks and Uncle Gallus was pulling the string.
The latter hummed snatches of plantation melodies as he warmed up to
his work, and finally he sung a series of characteristic verses, of
which the following are a sample:
"Did you ebber see a woodchuck lookin' at a coon-fight?
Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;
Did you ebber see a niggah gal dancin' in de moonlight?
Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!
"Possum up a gum-stump, chawin' slippery-ellum,
Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;
Nigga's in de market an' massa tryin' to sell 'em--
Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!
"Secesh in Richmon'--de Yankee boys has treed 'em--
Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;
All de little pickaninnies gwine to git dar freedom--
Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!"
Suddenly the merriment of the blacks was interrupted in a most
unexpected manner.
Some tall bushes that covered the top of a slight elevation near by were
suddenly parted, and a man, wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant in the
Confederate army, leaped down among the astonished revelers. In a
towering rage, he turned upon Uncle Gallus and shouted:
"Shut your head, you d----d old villain, or I'll fill your black hide
with lead!" and he flourished a cocked revolver in the face of the
terrified negro.
"Afo' God, Massa, we didn't mean no harm, we's jes passin' away de
time," said Uncle Gallus, in a frightened voice.
"Well, then," said the officer, with an oath, "be a little more careful
in the future about the kind of songs you sing, or I'll have every
d----d one of you bucked and gagged, and whipped within an inch of your
lives."
Replacing his weapon, and turning on his heel, he was striding angrily
away when he came face to face with Webster.
The recognition was mutual and instantaneous between the two men. As
quick as a flash Webster had his revolver cocked and pointed at the head
of the blustering Confederate.
"Bill Zigler, what are you doing here? You move at your peril."
"I'd kill you, curse you, but you've got the drop on me now, as you had
once before. But my time will come, you d----d Yankee spy!"
"Look here, Bill!" said Webster, anxious, if possible, to disarm at once
and forever the suspicions of his enemy, "what is the use of our being
continually at daggers' points? You were foolish enough to insult me in
Baltimore by impeaching my loyalty to the South, and I resented it, as
any man would. If you repeat the vile slander, I'll do the same thing.
If, however, you have anything personal against me, and must fight, I'll
put up my weapon and meet you hand to hand."
Zigler looked at the speaker a moment, and then advancing and extending
his hand, said:
"Webster, put up your pistol; I guess I've made a d----d fool of myself.
I did think you were a spy, but I knock under; I don't want to be an
enemy to such a friend to the cause as I now believe you to be."
Lowering his revolver, Webster good-naturedly received the friendly
overtures of his former foe.
"I thought you would come to your senses at last; but when did you come
down here?"
"Oh, I've been here several weeks. I enlisted in Baltimore and came down
as a lieutenant," answered Zigler. "But where are you from?" he
continued, "and what is the news from the Monumental City?"
"I am just from that city," replied Webster, "and have brought a number
of letters for parties here and at Manassas. I expect to go to the
Junction to-morrow, if I succeed in getting a pass."
"Who do you want to see there?"
"Well, I want to see John Bowen," replied Webster, naming a particular
friend of Zigler's, whom he knew was at Manassas. "I understand he is
down with typhoid fever, and will no doubt be glad to hear from home."
This straightforward story completely disarmed the suspicions of the
bully as to Webster's true character, and finding that he had time to
spare he invited the scout to his quarters.
Thus the quarrel was settled between these two men, and the superior
tact and coolness of Webster had succeeded in making a friend of a man
who might have seriously interfered with his operations, and probably
have jeopardized his life.
As they were leaving the place, Webster cast a look at the group of
negroes, whose mirth had been so suddenly interrupted, and he noticed
that they were regarding the Lieutenant with looks of sullen anger. He
was, however, considerably relieved to find that Uncle Gallus had not
recognized him, and that as far as the aged negro was concerned, he had
nothing to fear. He accompanied Zigler to his quarters, where they
chatted pleasantly for an hour, after which Webster returned to his
hotel, a much wiser man than when he first started out upon his walk.
As he sauntered quietly back to the city, he felt quite elated at the
success of his management of Zigler, whom he had made a fast friend.
After supper, in company with Mr. Campbell, he strolled about the city
for a short time, when his companion excused himself, and Webster
pursued his way alone. He was walking along Utah street, apparently
deeply absorbed in his own meditations, when he heard a voice behind
him.
"Hole on dar, Massa!"
Turning around, he was surprised to see Uncle Gallus, approaching him as
rapidly as his stiffened limbs would permit.
"Well, uncle," said Webster, as the old man caught up to him--"did you
speak to me?"
"You'se de man dat I 'dressed, sah--done you know me?" said the old
fellow, peering anxiously in the face of the detective.
"No, I don't remember you," said Webster, determined to ascertain
whether the old darky did know him; "where have you ever seen me?"
"In Washington, sah," replied Uncle Gallus; "don' you remember you saw
me at Majah Allen's, when I was dah libin wid Missus Morton?"
Webster looked at the negro a moment, and then, feeling assured of the
friendliness of his interlocutor, he said:
"Your face does seem familiar to me; what is your name?"
"Dey calls me Uncle Gallus, sah," answered the old fellow.
"Oh, yes," said Webster, "now I remember you."
"Golly, massa," grinned Uncle Gallus, "wen I seed you gib it to Bill
Zigler dis mo'nin', I dun knowed you right away, but I wouldn't say
nuffin' for de world, fo' I knowed you was a pullin' de wool ober his
eyes."
Knowing full well that he had nothing to fear from Uncle Gallus, he
talked with him good-naturedly on various topics, and in the course of
the conversation he learned that he was no longer with Mrs. Morton,
having been disposed of by her, some time before, and that he was now
being used by the Confederate government to work upon the
fortifications. Not deeming it advisable to remain long in conversation
with the old darky on the streets, he told him that he would see him in
a day or two, and placing a coin in the old man's hand, he bade him
good-night.
The next morning Mr. Campbell and Webster visited General Jones, and
obtained the sought-for passes to Manassas, for which place he left
early in the forenoon. On his arrival there, he learned that John Bowen,
for whom he had a letter, had been taken to Richmond, but having several
other messages to deliver to parties of prominence there, he busied
himself during the day in forming acquaintances, and in acquiring
knowledge. From Manassas he went to Centreville, where he remained a few
days, and from thence to Warrington, and finally back again to Richmond,
where he delivered his remaining letters. Here he formed the
acquaintance of a man by the name of Price, who was engaged in running
the blockade, and who was making arrangements to return to Baltimore, to
purchase a fresh supply of goods. Together they went to the office of
the Provost-Marshal, where they obtained the necessary passes to insure
their safe journey through the rebel lines.
Leaving Richmond, they went to Fredericksburg, where he stayed long
enough to visit all the places of interest around that city, and in
company with Mr. Price they went on to Brooks Station, the headquarters
of General Holmes, with whom Price was intimately acquainted. After
remaining several days, he left his companion, making his way to
Yorktown and Gloucester Point, and from thence to Washington, where he
reported to me.
This first visit of Timothy Webster to Richmond was highly successful.
Not only had he made many friends in that city, who would be of service
to him on subsequent trips, but the information he derived was
exceedingly valuable. He was able to report very correctly the number
and strength of the fortifications around the rebel capital, to estimate
the number of troops and their sources of supplies, and also the forts
between that city and Manassas Junction. His notes of the topography of
the country were of the greatest value, and he received the warmest
thanks of the commanding general, for what he had thus far been able to
accomplish.