A NON-COMBATANT ON BOARD THE BRONX
Colonel Passford was reclining on the divan when the commander entered
the cabin; but he rose to his feet as soon as he saw his nephew. Christy
thought he looked thinner and paler than when he had last seen him.
He was now only forty-two years old, but he looked like a man of fifty.
"I have been wanting to see you, Christy," said the planter, as he
approached his nephew. "I learn, with no little astonishment, that you
are the commander of this steamer."
"I am, uncle Homer," replied the young man.
"Then you can tell me better than any one else in regard to my status
on board of the Bronx," added the colonel, who had won this title years
before in the militia. "Am I considered a prisoner of war?"
"I do not so consider you, uncle Homer; but I cannot say how my superior
officer will look at the matter when I report to him. You were taken in
a sloop that fired upon the first cutter of the Bronx, wounding one of
the crew and the officer in command."
"That was the folly of Captain Flanger; and I protested the moment I
discovered what had been done," added the planter, who seemed to be
anxious to relieve himself of all responsibility for the discharge of
the muskets.
"Were you in charge of the sloop, uncle Homer?"
"I was not; I had nothing to do with the sloop. She belonged to Captain
Flanger."
"Who is Captain Flanger?" asked Christy.
"You have him on board, and perhaps he had better answer the question
himself," replied Colonel Passford with a smile.
"It was a superfluous question, for I know all about him. He is the
captain of the Floridian, though that would not make him a combatant
unless he fights his ship; and that is what he did on board of the
Magnolia. I regard him and his companions, except the skipper of the
sloop, as prisoners of war. You proved by your words and conduct that
you were not a combatant, and you are at liberty to depart when you
please."
The young commander did not feel entirely sure that his ruling was
correct, for a naval officer must be learned in a great variety of
subjects which he had not had time to study; but he was willing to take
the responsibility in the present instance.
"It is easy enough to say that I may depart; but how shall I do it?"
added the planter with a smile. "I cannot swim ashore."
"I will put you ashore in a boat at the nearest land when the fog clears
off," replied Christy.
"The nearest land is an island, and there is hardly anything like a
village on the entire Bay of St. Andrew's. The region is deserted now,
and I might wander about there for a month, till I starved to death,
before I could get to a settled region."
"I shall not compel you to land, and you can remain on board till I
report to the flag-officer of the Eastern Gulf squadron, off Pensacola,
if you desire to do so; but you will be subject to his decision and not
mine then."
"I prefer that to starving to death in this region," replied the
colonel.
"Very well, uncle Homer, that is settled," added Christy. "Now, how are
aunt Lydia and Gerty? I hope they are well."
"Very well the last time I saw them, which was three weeks ago. They are
busy making garments for the soldiers," answered the planter.
"When did you last hear from Corny, uncle Homer?"
"It is all of two months since I had any news in regard to him. He is
still a soldier and has not yet been promoted. His company is still at
Fort Gaines; but he has been sent away once or twice on detached duty.
He is not given to writing many letters; but the last time I was in
Mobile I was told that he had again been sent off on some sort of secret
service with a naval officer by the name of Galvinne. I do not know
whether the report was true or not."
"It was quite true, uncle Homer; and he has been quite as unfortunate
as he was in his former expedition to the North," added Christy very
quietly.
"What do you know about him, Christy?" asked the colonel with the
deepest interest.
"I can assure you first that he is alive and well. I am not informed how
he got to New York, but he did get there, and in company with two naval
officers, one by the name of Byron, as well as Galvinne."
"Byron was an actor in Mobile; he had been the mate of a cotton ship,
and he obtained a commission in the navy; but for the want of a steamer
both of them were unemployed," the planter explained.
"In New York they got up a plan to obtain a small steamer, about the
size of the Bronx," continued Christy. "Galvinne had been in the navy,
and he readily obtained an appointment as second lieutenant of the
store-ship Vernon. Byron shipped as a seaman. Corny was appointed by the
two officers to take the place of a regular officer, who came down in
the Vernon. He looked something like the officer whom he personated, who
was to command a small steamer in the gulf."
"It was a hazardous plan," suggested Colonel Passford, "and I should
suppose that Corny was hardly competent to play such a _rôle_. I hope
the scheme was successful, for, as you know very well, all my prayers
and all my aspirations are for the triumph of the Confederate cause."
"The scheme was successful up to a certain point, and Corny obtained
the command of the steamer, passing for the genuine officer before the
commodore, and even on board of the vessel where the commander was well
known."
"That sounds like a story for a novel," added the planter, smiling.
"If there had been no setback, Corny would have gone into Pensacola Bay
in a few hours more, in nominal command of the steamer, though of course
Galvinne was the real commander."
"It is a strange story, and I cannot see how Corny succeeded in passing
himself off as the officer he personated."
"He stole that officer's commission and other papers while he was
sleeping in his own home," added Christy.
"But where did you learn this history of Corny's operations?" asked
his uncle, knitting his brow as though he did not quite believe the
narrative.
"Oh, I am the officer whom Corny personated," replied the commander with
a quiet smile. "The story is not a second-handed one, uncle Homer."
"Corny pretended to be Christy, did he? Then you must have seen him if
he took your commission."
"He did not do that in person; but employed Byron to do it for him; and
for several weeks this actor was a house-servant at Bonnydale," answered
Christy, as he proceeded to narrate the adventure more in detail. "It is
not an old story, for the last event occurred on board of the Bronx at
about eight o'clock last evening."
"The plan was not finally successful, more is the pity," added the
Southern gentleman.
"It was not; for I had concealed myself on board when I realized what
Galvinne was about, and, with the aid of the officers who knew me,
captured the vessel. I am now in command of her, and I am likely to
have a prize to assist in establishing my identity when I report to the
flag-officer."
"But what became of Corny?" asked Colonel Passford, with no little
anxiety on his face.
"He is quite safe; he is a prisoner of war below, with a pair of
handcuffs on his wrists," replied Christy. "You and he together made the
nest for him, and he must sleep in it. I cannot say what the commodore
will do with you."
"Corny on board of this steamer!" exclaimed the father. "In irons too!"
"I consider the naval officers as dangerous men, and I had to treat
Corny in the same manner that I did his associates. If you wish to see
him, I will send for him."
"Of course I should like to see my son."
Christy struck his bell, and the steward promptly appeared at the door.
"Dave, go to the quarters, and conduct the prisoner, Mr. Passford,
to this cabin. You may take off his handcuffs; here is the key," said
Christy, and steward took the key and departed.
"How high is the grass in the streets of New York, Christy?" asked the
colonel, with a twinkle of the eye, and a smile.
"Grass! They don't raise it in the city; and there isn't as much of it
in all the streets as I saw in the principal one in Mobile when I was
there, on my way from the prison to the bay," replied the commander
cheerfully. "I don't believe that business was ever so lively in New
York and the other cities of the North as it is at this time; and I left
there ten days ago."
"Do the people there really expect to put down the Rebellion, as they
call it, nephew?" asked Colonel Passford, in a tone which indicated his
confidence in the final success of his cause.
"They have no doubt whatever that the Rebellion will be crushed out.
The last time we met you did not believe that a blockade could be
established; but it has been done, and the government is strengthening
it every day. It is effective, too; and I have been concerned in the
capture of nearly a dozen vessels that were trying to break through."
"You have been very fortunate, nephew; but it will be impossible to
conquer the South. We shall be the victors in the end as sure as there
is a God in heaven who watches over the affairs of men."
"One who can believe that would swallow Baron Munchausen without
blinking. But I think we had better not talk politics, uncle Homer, for
we don't get ahead at all. I shall continue to stand by the Union, and
the South will raise the same cry after a few years more," said Christy,
as Dave opened the door, and ushered the prisoner into the cabin.
Father and son shook hands, but they were not so demonstrative as
they might have been. Christy was not disposed to burden them with
his presence, but he insisted that Dave should stay there during the
interview. He left them together for two hours, and then sent Mr.
Pennant and a seaman to remove Corny to the quarters. Dave said they
had talked only of family matters, though the son had explained to his
father the plan to obtain possession of the Bronx.
When the commander went on deck, the fog had disappeared, and the shore
was to be seen at the distance of about six miles from the steamer. At
eight bells, or noon, a steamer was discovered coming out of the bay by
a channel between two islands. She carried the American flag over the
Confederate, and no one doubted that she was the Floridian. In half an
hour she was alongside, and she looked like a fine vessel, for she had
come from the other side of the ocean as a blockade-runner.
Mr. Flint reported that she had been captured without any resistance on
the part of the crew. There was no incident worth relating in connection
with the capture, though she was full of cotton, and brought over
seventy thousand dollars when the vessel and cargo were sold. The two
cutters were brought alongside, and hoisted up to the davits.
"I suppose the steamer has a supply of coal on board, Mr. Flint."
"Enough to take her to Liverpool," replied the first lieutenant.
"There are several vessels in Appalachicola Bay, and I thought of
attending to them; but I think we have too much on our hands now, and
I shall sail at once for the station. You will take charge of the
Floridian, Mr. Flint, with such crew as you need," said Christy.
In less than half an hour the two vessels were under way, and just at
dark they were within hail of the flag-ship.