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THE BLUE AND THE GRAY--AFLOAT
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TAKEN BY THE ENEMY
WITHIN THE ENEMY'S LINES
ON THE BLOCKADE
STAND BY THE UNION
FIGHTING FOR THE RIGHT
A VICTORIOUS UNION
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY--ON LAND
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BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
IN THE SADDLE
A LIEUTENANT AT EIGHTEEN
ON THE STAFF
(Other volumes in preparation)
Any Volume Sold Separately.
Lee and Shepard Publishers Boston
[Illustration: Mr. Galvinne is Subdued.--Page 166.]
The
BLUE AND THE GRAY
Series
[Illustration]
By Oliver Optic
STAND by the UNION
_The Blue and the Gray Series_
STAND BY THE UNION
by
OLIVER OPTIC
Author of
"The Army and Navy Series" "Young America Abroad"
"The Great Western Series" "The Woodville Stories"
"The Starry Flag Series" "The Boat-Club Series"
"The Onward and Upward Series" "The Yacht-Club Series"
"The Lake Shore Series" "The Riverdale Stories"
"The Boat-Builder Series" "Taken by the Enemy"
"Within the Enemy's Lines" "On the Blockade" etc.
BOSTON 1896
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
10 Milk Street Next "The Old South Meeting House."
Copyright, 1891, by Lee and Shepard
_All rights reserved._
Stand by the Union.
To
My Two Young Friends,
MISS HELEN CAMPBELL SMITH
and
MISS ANNA ROCKWELL SMITH,
The Daughters Of
My Friend Mr. George A. Smith
Of Boston,
This Volume
Is Affectionately Dedicated.
PREFACE
"STAND BY THE UNION" is the fourth of "The Blue and Gray Series." As in
the preceding volumes of the series, the incidents of the story are
located in the midst of the war of the Rebellion, now dating back nearly
thirty years, or before any of my younger readers were born. To those
who lived two days in one through that eventful and anxious period,
sometimes trembling for the fate of the nation, but always sustained by
the faith and the hope through which the final victory was won, it seems
hardly possible that so many years have flowed into the vast ocean of
the past since that terrible conflict was raging over so large a portion
of our now united country.
Though it is said that the South "robbed the cradle and the grave" to
recruit the armies of the Confederacy, it is as true that young and old
in the North went forth in their zeal to "Stand by the Union," and that
many and many a young soldier and sailor who had not yet seen twenty
summers endured the hardships of the camp and the march, the broiling
suns, and the wasting maladies of semi-tropical seas, fought bravely and
nobly for the unity of the land they loved, and that thousands of them
sleep their last sleep in unmarked graves on the sea and the land. The
writer can remember whole companies, of which nearly half of the number
could be classed as mere boys. These boys of eighteen to twenty, who
survived the rain of bullets, shot, and shell, and the hardly less fatal
assaults of disease, are the middle-aged men of to-day, and every one
of them has a thrilling story to tell. The boys of to-day read with
interest the narratives of the boys of thirty years ago, and listen with
their blood deeply stirred to the recital of the veteran of forty-five
years, or even younger, who brought back to his home only one arm or
one leg.
In his youth the author used to listen to the stories of several aged
Revolutionary pensioners, one of whom had slept in the snows of Valley
Forge, another who had been confined on board of the Jersey prison-ship,
and a third who had been with Washington at the surrender of Cornwallis.
Not one lives to-day who fought in the battles of the Revolution; but
a multitude of those who trod the battle-fields of the war that was
finished twenty-seven years ago have taken their places, and have become
as interesting to the present generation as the heroes of former wars
were to the fathers and grandfathers of the boys and girls of to-day.
In the official record of a certain regiment recruited up to the full
standard, we find that 47.5 per cent of the non-commissioned officers
and privates were under twenty-one years of age. We find a few in the
list who were only sixteen and seventeen years. In this regiment, we
find two captains only twenty-one years of age, and three lieutenants
who were only twenty. This regiment was exceptional in regard to age,
though we find that over twenty-five per cent of several companies,
taken at random, were under age. Even boys of fourteen and fifteen were
enlisted as musicians, "drummer boys," and served out their full term.
It can, therefore, be truthfully said, that those who were literally
"boys" did their full and fair share in fighting for the Union. Perhaps
even a larger proportion of minors served in the navy than in the army;
and the record of some of them could be recited to prove that in those
days boys became men prematurely, and distinguished themselves by brave
and daring deeds.
The incidents of the story contained in this volume are suggested by
actual occurrence during the Rebellion, though they are not absolutely
historical details, but are as probable as many real events of the war.
The enemy were busy in some of the Northern cities, and there were many
daring operations undertaken by them which justify the story in its
principal features. Most of the characters have been introduced in the
preceding volumes of the series; and in the succeeding volume the hero
will be presented in a somewhat different field of action, though in
whatever sphere he moves he will continue to be engaged in "FIGHTING
FOR THE RIGHT."
Dorchester, Mass., April 23, 1891.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
A Mysterious Visitation 15
CHAPTER II.
The Absconding Man-servant 26
CHAPTER III.
Christy Passford is utterly confounded 37
CHAPTER IV.
The Sick Officer in the Stateroom 48
CHAPTER V.
Lieutenant Passford and his Apparent Double 59
CHAPTER VI.
The Conference in the Captain's Cabin 70
CHAPTER VII.
The Announcement of the Decision 81
CHAPTER VIII.
The Prisoner of War 92
CHAPTER IX.
A Moral Philosopher 103
CHAPTER X.
A Change of Quarters in the Confusion 114
CHAPTER XI.
Laying out a Plan of Operations 125
CHAPTER XII.
A Lesson in Ordinary Politeness 136
CHAPTER XIII.
The Opening of the Secret Orders 147
CHAPTER XIV.
The Affray on the Quarter-deck of the Bronx 158
CHAPTER XV.
A Rebellious and Prejudiced Prisoner 169
CHAPTER XVI.
The Disposal of the Prisoners 180
CHAPTER XVII.
The Second and Third Lieutenants 191
CHAPTER XVIII.
A Battle on a Small Scale 202
CHAPTER XIX.
The Skipper of the Sloop Magnolia 213
CHAPTER XX.
An Expedition to St. Andrew's Bay 224
CHAPTER XXI.
A Non-combatant on Board the Bronx 235
CHAPTER XXII.
The Stranger in the Captain's Cabin 246
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Very Impudent Declaration 257
CHAPTER XXIV.
A Critical Situation in the Cabin 268
CHAPTER XXV.
The Destruction of a Prominent Facial Member 279
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Meeting with the Bellevite at Night 290
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Planning of an Expedition 301
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Negro Village on the Isle Grande Terre 312
CHAPTER XXIX.
A Professional Visit to the Fort 323
CHAPTER XXX.
The Attack upon the Fort 334
CHAPTER XXXI.
A Wounded Commander 345
STAND BY THE UNION
CHAPTER I
A MYSTERIOUS VISITATION
"Who's there?" demanded Christy Passford, sitting up in his bed, in the
middle of the night, in his room on the second floor of his father's
palatial mansion on the Hudson, where the young lieutenant was waiting
for a passage to the Gulf.
There was no answer to his inquiry.
"Who's there?" he repeated in a louder tone.
All was as still as it ought to be in the middle of the night, and no
response came to his second inquiry. The brilliant young officer, who
had just passed his eighteenth birthday, knew what it was even better
than an older person to pass a whole night on difficult duty, without
a wink of sleep, for he had been accustomed to spend a portion of every
night in planking the deck on his watch; but at Bonnydale, his quiet
home, far removed from the scenes of actual conflict, he was an
industrious sleeper, giving his whole attention to his slumbers, as a
proper preparation for the stirring scenes in which he was again about
to engage.
He slept soundly; but he had dreamed that some one opened the door of
his room, or some one had actually done so. He was not a believer in
dreams, and when an impression had fastened itself upon his mind, he was
inclined to investigate it. It seemed to him that he had been awakened
from his sleep by the opening of the door of his chamber. Some member of
the family might be sick, and he might be needed to go for the doctor,
or for some other service.
He leaped from his bed when no answer came to his second demand, lighted
his lamp, and put on his trousers. With the light in his hand, he opened
the door; but there was no one there, and not a sound of any kind could
be heard. He walked about the hall in his bare feet, and listened
attentively at the doors of several of the chambers, especially at that
of Mr. Pembroke, the invalid gentleman whom, with his daughter, he had
brought home as a passenger in the captured Vixen.
Christy heard nothing, and he silently descended the stairs to the lower
hall. All was as quiet there as upon the floor above, and he had begun
to think that the impression he had received had been given him in a
dream, though he could not remember that he had been dreaming. But when
he came to the front door, he found it was ajar. It was usually secured
by a spring lock, and those who were liable to be out in the evening
were provided with night-keys.
At the present time his father was in Washington, and he could not have
neglected to close the door. He had been to the railroad station to meet
the last train, thinking it possible that his father might return, and
he was confident that he had been the last to enter the house. He was
very sure that he had not left the door unfastened, and this assurance
made him confident that some person had entered the house. The noise at
the door of his chamber was not an illusion or a dream: though it had
been made by closing rather than by opening it, or he would have been
likely to find the intruder in his room when he lighted his lamp.
It seemed to him to be a matter of course that the midnight visitor had
come into the mansion for the purpose of plundering its occupants, or of
securing the valuables it contained. Putting his lamp on the table, he
went out upon the veranda, and looked all about him. The grounds were
very extensive, and a broad avenue led to the street. It was very dark;
but as he cast his eyes in the direction of the grand entrance to the
estate, he discovered some dark object in motion; but he lost sight of
it in a moment.
It was a living being, or it would not move, and he was certain that he
had made a discovery. Then two regrets flashed through his mind as he
stepped down from the veranda; the first, that he had not put on his
shoes before he left his chamber, and the second, that he had not taken
his pistols, for a bullet would travel a great deal faster than a
barefooted officer, even of the United States Navy. But he ran with all
his speed to the street, to the great detriment of his uncovered feet.
He reached the grand entrance in an exceedingly short space of time;
but he might as well have been in his chamber, for no ruffian, robber,
or Confederate spy could be seen. He had no means of knowing which way
the intruder at the mansion had turned, to the right or the left, or
whether, like the timid colored gentleman in a trying situation, he
had taken to the woods. Christy walked up the street, and then down the
street; but the underbrush had recently been cut in the grove, and he
did not venture to explore it without any protection for his feet.
He peered into the gloom of the night with all his eyes, and listened
with all his ears for over an hour; and then, watchful and careful
officer as he was, there were five hundred chances against him to one
in his favor, of finding the intruder, and he reluctantly returned to
the mansion.
Like the other male occupants of the house, the lieutenant was provided
with a night-key. For one who had only just developed a tolerably
thriving mustache, Christy was a prudent and methodical young gentleman.
As a part of his method, he had a great many small drawers in his rooms,
and a dozen or more keys; but he had never lost them, for the reason
that he carried them chained to his nether garment. But he had two sets
of keys, one for the house, and one for the ship. He had taken the
night-key from the former, and put it in his vest pocket; and when he
reached the front door of the mansion, the key he wanted was in his
chamber, and he had been careful to shut the door when he left the
house.
He could not get in, and he walked around the building to find a window
which had not been closed. His mother had a reasonable dread of robbers,
and she always looked out for the windows before she retired. He did
not wish to arouse the family by ringing the great gong bell, but it was
too cold to spend the rest of the night out-doors in his half-clothed
condition, for he was as liable to take a severe cold as any less
brilliant individual, and he might have to spend a month in his chamber,
instead of reporting to the flag-officer of the Eastern Gulf squadron,
in command of the Bronx.
He rang the bell, and the sound from it reverberated through the entire
mansion. It was some time before a servant came to open the door; but
the man who let him in was astonished to see him partially dressed, and
wondered if he had not been walking in his sleep. In the lower hall, he
was satisfied that the whole house was astir, for the gong which had
sounded was the "emergency bell," used only when the ordinary one at the
front door was not likely to be heard.
"Walsh!" called Mrs. Passford from the head of the stairs.
"Yes, ma'am," replied the man who had admitted Christy, and who was
still wondering what fit, freak, or fancy had beset the young officer.
"Who is it? What is the matter?" demanded the lady of the mansion, in
tones which indicated anxiety if not alarm.
"It is Mr. Christy, ma'am; nothing is the matter," replied Walsh;
but then he appeared to think that he had replied without proper
consideration, and he revised his speech. "I don't know that anything's
the matter, ma'am," and still he gazed at the young gentleman, as though
he deemed it possible that he had suddenly gone crazy.
"Nothing is the matter, mother," called Christy. "I am all right."
"But why are you out at this time of night, my son? It is nearly two
o'clock in the morning," said Mrs. Passford, as she descended the
stairs. "You are not half dressed, Christy."
"But I am all right, mother, and there is not the least reason to worry
about anything, for the ship is not going to the bottom just yet,"
replied Christy, indulging in a forced laugh to assist in quieting his
mother's fears.
"But why are you out doors at this time of night?" Mrs. Passford
insisted. "You will catch a cold that will lay you up, if you go out
in that condition."
"I should not have rung that bell if I had not been afraid of taking
cold," added the son.
"But, Christy, something has happened; and you must tell me about it, or
I shall not sleep another wink to-night," persisted the lady, concluding
that her son was trying to conceal something from her, as indeed he was,
for he feared it would alarm her if he told her some one had come into
the house.
"There is nothing to be frightened about, mother; and I will tell you
all about it," added Christy, as he took his overcoat from the stand and
put it on. "I waked an hour ago, or more, with the idea that some one
had opened the door of my room," and he related the circumstances to his
mother, including his search in the grounds and the road.
"Do you think any one came into the house?" asked Mrs. Passford, though
with but little of the woman's terror that such a statement might have
caused.
"That is my decided opinion. A noise at my chamber door woke me; I found
the front door ajar, though I know I closed it when I came in last
night, and I saw something moving down the avenue, which could only have
been a man. Of course, I conclude that it was a burglar; but none of us
have been killed or harmed."
Christy went to his room and completed his toilet. The house was warm,
and he was soon comfortable enough after the out-door chill. By this
time Miss Florry Passford had put in an appearance in the upper hall,
with Bertha Pembroke. The alarm was again briefly explained, and the
invalid gentleman was assured that nothing alarming had occurred. Then
the young lieutenant and his mother proceeded to ascertain what the
burglar had accomplished in the house.
On the lower floor nothing appeared to have been disturbed. In the
parlor a gold watch, adorned with diamonds, had been left on the table
by Florry, who had forgotten it; but it had not been taken. The burglar
could not have helped seeing it if he had explored the house as such
gentry do on such occasions. In the dining-room no attempt to open the
steel safe set in the wall, which contained a vast amount of silver,
jewelry, money, and other valuables, had been made. In a word,
wherever they examined the rooms, no sign of any depredations could be
discovered. The burglar did not appear to have lunched in the pantry
where some choice viands had been placed. The robber had certainly
been very considerate, and had done no mischief either for plunder or
diversion. He had evidently, in the opinion of Mrs. Passford and her
son, undertaken a profitless enterprise.
"But what could have been his object in coming into the house?" asked
the bewildered lady.
"I shall have to give it up, mother."
"He might have taken Florry's watch, she was so careless as to leave on
the table in the sitting-room," added she.
"But he did not."
"He could not have been disturbed until you spoke to him; and he might
have ransacked the whole of the lower part of the house."
"But he did not."
They had given up the examination of the premises, and given up the
conundrum, and Christy was leading the way up-stairs. He went into his
room, followed by his mother.
"He must have come into your room, my son, or you would not have heard
him at the door. Perhaps he has robbed you," suggested Mrs. Passford.
The young officer declared he had nothing there to steal. As he spoke,
he took from his coat pocket on the bedpost an envelope containing his
commission and other papers. It was safe; so were his purse and watch.
The mystery was not solved till Christy embarked for the Gulf.