STORIES OF ADVENTURE IN THE
YOUNG UNITED STATES
_By ALFRED BISHOP MASON_
TOM STRONG,
WASHINGTON'S SCOUT
_Illustrated, $1.30 net_
TOM STRONG,
BOY-CAPTAIN
_Illustrated, $1.30 net_
TOM STRONG,
JUNIOR
_Illustrated, $1.30 net_
TOM STRONG,
THIRD
_Illustrated, $1.30 net_
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
Publishers New York
[Illustration: ST. GAUDENS' STATUE OF LINCOLN]
TOM STRONG,
LINCOLN'S SCOUT
_A STORY OF THE UNITED STATES IN THE
TIMES THAT TRIED MEN'S SOULS_
By
ALFRED BISHOP MASON
Author of "Tom Strong, Washington's Scout," "Tom Strong,
Boy-Captain," Tom Strong, Junior," and
"Tom Strong, Third"
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
1919
COPYRIGHT, 1919
BY
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
The Quinn & Boden Company
BOOK MANUFACTURERS
RAHWAY NEW JERSEY
DEDICATED BY PERMISSION
TO
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
INSPIRER OF PATRIOTISM,
A GREAT AMERICAN
OYSTER BAY
LONG ISLAND, N.Y.
August 31st, 1917.
Dear Mr. Mason:
All right, I shall break
my rule and have you dedicate that book to
me. Thank you!
Faithfully yours,
[Illustration: Theodore Roosevelt signature]
Mr. Alfred B. Mason,
University Club,
New York City.
FOREWORD
Many of the persons and personages who appear
upon the pages of this book have already
lived, some in history and some in the pages of
"Tom Strong, Washington's Scout," "Tom
Strong, Boy-Captain," "Tom Strong, Junior,"
or "Tom Strong, Third." Those who wish to
know the full story of the four Tom Strongs,
great-grandfather, grandfather, father and son,
should read those books, too.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
TOM RIDES IN WESTERN MARYLAND--HALTED BY ARMED
MEN--JOHN BROWN--THE ATTACK UPON HARPER'S FERRY--THE
FIGHT--JOHN BROWN'S SOUL GOES MARCHING ON 3
CHAPTER II
OUR WAR WITH MEXICO--KIT CARSON AND HIS LAWYER, ABE
LINCOLN--TOM GOES TO LINCOLN'S INAUGURATION--S. F. B.
MORSE, INVENTOR OF THE TELEGRAPH--TOM BACK IN
WASHINGTON 22
CHAPTER III
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS--MR. STRONG GOES TO RUSSIA--TOM
GOES TO LIVE IN THE WHITE HOUSE--BULL RUN--"STONEWALL"
JACKSON--GEO. B. MCCLELLAN--TOM STRONG, SECOND-LIEUTENANT,
U. S. A.--THE BATTLE OF THE "MERRIMAC" AND THE "MONITOR" 40
CHAPTER IV
TOM GOES WEST--WILKES BOOTH HUNTS HIM--DR. HANS ROLF
SAVES HIM--HE DELIVERS DESPATCHES TO GENERAL GRANT 71
CHAPTER V
INSIDE THE CONFEDERATE LINES--"SAIREY" WARNS TOM--OLD MAN
TOMBLIN'S "SETTLEMINT"--STEALING A LOCOMOTIVE--WILKES
BOOTH GIVES THE ALARM--A WILD DASH FOR THE UNION LINES 90
CHAPTER VI
TOM UP A TREE--DID THE CONFEDERATE OFFICER SEE HIM?--THE
FUGITIVE SLAVE GUIDES HIM--BUYING A BOAT IN THE
DARK--ADRIFT IN THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY 117
CHAPTER VII
TOWSER FINDS THE FUGITIVES--TOWSER BRINGS UNCLE
MOSES--MR. IZZARD AND HIS YANKEE OVERSEER, JAKE
JOHNSON--TOM IS PULLED DOWN THE CHIMNEY--HOW UNCLE
MOSES CHOKED THE OVERSEER--THE FLIGHT OF THE FOUR 129
CHAPTER VIII
LINCOLN SAVES JIM JENKINS'S LIFE--NEWSPAPER ABUSE OF
LINCOLN--THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION--LINCOLN IN HIS
NIGHT-SHIRT--JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL--"BARBARA
FRIETCHIE"--MR. STRONG COMES HOME--THE RUSSIAN FLEET
COMES TO NEW YORK--A BACKWOODS JUPITER 160
CHAPTER IX
TOM GOES TO VICKSBURG--MORGAN'S RAID--GEN. BASIL W. DUKE
CAPTURES TOM--GETTYSBURG--GEN. ROBERT E. LEE GIVES TOM
HIS BREAKFAST--IN LIBBY PRISON--LINCOLN'S SPEECH AT
GETTYSBURG 182
CHAPTER X
TOM IS HUNGRY--HE LEARNS TO "SPOON" BY SQUADS--THE BULLET
AT THE WINDOW--WORKING ON THE TUNNEL--"RAT HELL"--THE
RISK OF THE ROLL-CALL--WHAT HAPPENED TO JAKE JOHNSON,
CONFEDERATE SPY--TOM IN LIBBY PRISON--HANS ROLF ATTENDS
HIM--HANS REFUSES TO ESCAPE--THE FLIGHT THROUGH THE
TUNNEL--FREE, BUT HOW TO STAY SO? 213
CHAPTER XI
TOM HIDES IN A RIVER BANK--EATS RAW FISH--JIM GRAYSON
AIDS HIM--DOWN THE JAMES RIVER ON A TREE--PASSING THE
PATROL BOATS--CANNONADED--THE END OF THE VOYAGE 249
CHAPTER XII
TOWSER WELCOMES TOM TO THE WHITE HOUSE--LINCOLN
RE-ELECTED PRESIDENT--GRANT COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF--SHERMAN
MARCHES FROM ATLANTA TO THE SEA--TOM ON GRANT'S
STAFF--FIVE FORKS--FALL OF RICHMOND--HANS ROLF FREED--BOB
SAVES TOM FROM CAPTURE--TOM TAKES A BATTERY INTO
ACTION--LEE SURRENDERS--TOM STRONG, BREVET-CAPTAIN,
U. S. A. 265
CHAPTER XIII
THE ASSASSINATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN 307
CHAPTER XIV
TOM HUNTS WILKES BOOTH--THE END OF THE MURDERER--ANDREW
JOHNSON, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES--TOM AND TOWSER
GO HOME 315
ILLUSTRATIONS
ABRAHAM LINCOLN _Frontispiece_
St. Gaudens Statue, Lincoln Park, Chicago
PAGE
JOHN BROWN 10
THE ATTACK UPON THE ENGINE HOUSE 17
BATTLE OF THE "MONITOR" AND THE "MERRIMAC" 66
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT 72
MISSISSIPPI RIVER GUNBOATS 85
THE LOCOMOTIVE TOM HELPED TO STEAL 106
TOWSER 157
GENERAL DUKE SAMPLES THE PIES 191
ARLINGTON 198
GEN. ROBERT E. LEE ON TRAVELER 201
LIBBY PRISON AFTER THE WAR 214
FIGHTING THE RATS 224
LIBBY PRISON AND THE TUNNEL 229
ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1864 269
GEN. W. T. SHERMAN 272
St. Gaudens Statue, Central Park Plaza, New York
BOB 275
GEN. PHILIP H. SHERIDAN 278
Sheridan Square Statue, Washington, D. C.
TOM TAKES A BATTERY INTO ACTION 292
THE MCLEAN HOUSE, APPOMATTOX COURTHOUSE 299
LEE SURRENDERS TO GRANT 302
GEN. U. S. GRANT 304
MAP
EASTERN HALF OF UNITED STATES 2
TOM STRONG, LINCOLN'S SCOUT
[Illustration: THE EASTERN UNITED STATES
(Showing places mentioned in this book)]
TOM STRONG, LINCOLN'S SCOUT
CHAPTER I
TOM RIDES IN WESTERN MARYLAND--HALTED BY ARMED MEN--JOHN BROWN--THE
ATTACK UPON HARPER'S FERRY--THE FIGHT--JOHN BROWN'S SOUL GOES
MARCHING ON.
On a beautiful October afternoon, a man and a boy were riding along a
country road in Western Maryland. To their left lay the Potomac, its
waters gleaming and sparkling beneath the rays of the setting sun. To
their right, low hills, wooded to the top, bounded the view. They had
left the little town of Harper's Ferry, Virginia, an hour before; had
crossed to the Maryland shore of the Potomac; and now were looking for
some country inn or friendly farmhouse where they and their horses could
be cared for overnight.
The man was Mr. Thomas Strong, once Tom Strong, third, and the boy was
his son, another Tom Strong, the fourth to bear that name. Like the
three before him he was brown and strong, resolute and eager, with a
smile that told of a nature of sunshine and cheer. They were looking for
land. Mr. Strong had inherited much land in New York City. The growth of
that great town had given him a comfortable fortune. He had decided to
buy a farm somewhere and a friend had told him that Western Maryland was
almost a paradise. So it was, but this Eden had its serpent. Slavery was
there. It was a mild and patriarchal kind of slavery, but it had left
its black mark upon the countryside. Across the nearby Mason and Dixon's
line, Pennsylvania was full of little farms, tilled by their owners, and
of little towns, which reflected the wealth of the neighboring farmers.
Western Maryland was largely owned by absentee landlords. Its towns were
tiny villages. Its farms were few and far between. The free State was
briskly alive; the slave State was sleepily dead.
The two riders were splendidly mounted, the father on a big bay
stallion, Billy-boy, and the son on a black Morgan mare, Jennie.
Billy-boy was a descendant of the Billy-boy General Washington had given
to the first Tom Strong, many years before. Jennie was a descendant of
the Jennie Tom Strong, third, had ridden across the plains of the great
West with John C. Fremont, "the Pathfinder," first Republican candidate
for President of the United States.
"We haven't seen a house for miles, Father," said the boy.
"And we were never out of sight of a house when we were riding through
Pennsylvania. There's always a reason for such things. Do you know the
reason?"
"No, sir. What is it?"
"The sin of slavery. I don't believe I shall buy land in Maryland. I
thought I might plant a colony of happy people here and help to make
Maryland free, in the course of years, but I'm beginning to think the
right kind of white people won't come where the only work is done by
slaves. We must find soon a place to sleep. Perhaps there'll be a house
around that next turn in the road. Billy-boy whinnies as though there
were other horses near."
Billy-boy's sharp nose had not deceived him. There were other horses
near. Just around the turn of the road there were three horses. Three
armed men were upon them. Father and son at the same moment saw and
heard them.
"You stop! Who be you?"
The sharp command was backed by uplifted pistols. The Strongs reined in
their horses, with indignant surprise. Who were these three farmers who
seemed to be playing bandits upon the peaceful highroad? The boy glanced
at his father and tried to imitate his father's cool demeanor. He felt
the shock of surprise, but his heart beat joyously with the thought:
"This is an adventure!" All his young life he had longed for adventures.
He had deeply enjoyed the novel experience of the week's ride with the
father he loved, but he had not hoped for a thrill like this.
Mr. Strong eyed the three horsemen, who seemed both awkward and uneasy.
"What does this mean?" he asked.
"Now, thar ain't goin' to be no harm done you nor done bub, thar,
neither," the leader of the highwaymen answered, with a note almost of
pleading in his voice. "Don't you be oneasy. But you'll have to come
with us----"
"And spend Sunday with us----" broke in another man.
"Shet up, Bill. I'll do all the talkin' that's needed."
"That's what you do best," the other man grumbled.
"Well, Tom," said Mr. Strong, turning with a smile to his son, "we seem
to have found that place to spend the night." He faced his captors.
"This is a queer performance of yours. You don't look like highwaymen,
though you act like them. Do you mean to steal our horses?" he added,
sharply.
"We ain't no hoss thieves," replied the leader. "You've got to come with
us, but you needn't be no way oneasy. You, Bill, ride ahead!"
Bill turned his horse and rode ahead, Mr. Strong and Tom riding behind
him, the other two men behind them. It was a silent ride, but not a long
one. Within a mile, they reached a rude clearing that held a couple of
log huts. The sun had set; the short twilight was over. Firelight
gleamed in the larger of the huts. The prisoners were taken to it. A man
who was lounging outside the door had a whispered talk with the three
horsemen. Then he turned rather sheepishly; said: "Come in, mister; come
in, bub;" opened the door, called within: "Prisoners, Captin' Smith,"
and stepped aside as father and son entered.
There were a dozen men in the big room, farmers all, apparently. They
were all on their feet, eyeing keenly the unexpected prisoners. Their
eyes turned to a tall man, who stepped forward and held out his hand,
saying:
"Sorry the boys had to take you in, but you and your hosses are safe and
we won't keep you long. The day of the Lord is at hand."
There was a grim murmur of approval from the other men. The Lord's day,
as Sunday is sometimes called, was at hand, for it was then the evening
of Saturday, October 15, 1859. But that was not what the speaker meant.
He was not what his followers called him, Captain Smith. He was John
Brown, of North Elba, New York, of Kansas ("bleeding Kansas" it was
called then, when slaveholders from Missouri and freedom-lovers under
John Brown had turned it into a battlefield), and he was soon to be John
Brown of Harper's Ferry, Virginia, first martyr in the cause of Freedom
on Virginian soil. To him "the day of the Lord" was the day when he was
to attack slavery in its birthplace, the Old Dominion, and that attack
had been set by him for Sunday, October 16. His plan was to seize
Harper's Ferry, where there was a United States arsenal, arm the slaves
he thought would come to his standard from all Virginia, and so compass
the fall of the Slave Power. A wild plan, an impossible plan, the plan
of an almost crazy fanatic, and a splendid dream, a dream for the sake
of which he was glad to give his heroic life.
He had rented this Maryland farm in July, giving his name as Smith and
saying he expected to breed horses. By twos and threes his followers had
joined him in this solitary spot, until now there were twenty-one of
them. The few folk scattered through the countryside had begun to be
suspicious of this strange gathering of men. All sorts of wild stories
circulated, though none was as wild as the truth. The men themselves
were tense under the strain of the long wait. They feared discovery and
attack. For the three days before "the day of the Lord" they had
patrolled the one road, looking out for soldiers or for spies. Tom and
his father had been their sole captives.
John Brown was one of Nature's noblemen and among his friends in
Massachusetts and New York were some of the foremost men of their time,
so he had learned to know a real man when he met one. He soon found
out that Mr. Strong was a real man. He told him of his plans, and urged
him to join in the projected foray on Harper's Ferry. But when Mr.
Strong refused and tried to show him how mad his project was, the fires
of the fanatic blazed within him.
[Illustration: JOHN BROWN]
"Did not Joshua bring down the walls of Jericho with a ram's horn?" he
shouted. "And with twenty armed men cannot I pull down the walls of the
citadel of Slavery? Are you a true man or not? Will you join me or not?
Answer me yes or no."
"No," was the response, quiet but firm.
"You shall join me; you and your boy," thundered the crusader, hammering
the table with his mighty fist. "Here, Jim, put these people under guard
and keep them until we start."
* * * * *
Tom and his father were well-treated, but they were kept under guard
until the next night and were then taken along by John Brown's "army,"
which trudged off into the darkness afoot, while Billy-boy and Jennie
and the other horses in the corral whinnied uneasily, sensing, as
animals do, the stir of a departure which is to leave them behind. In
the center of the little column the two captives marched the five miles
to Harper's Ferry and started across the bridge that led to that tiny
town.
A brave man, one Patrick Hoggins, was night-watchman of the bridge. He
heard the trampling of many feet upon the plank-flooring. He hurried
towards the strange sound.
"Halt!" shouted somebody in the column.
"Now I didn't know what 'halt' mint then," Patrick testified afterwards,
"anny more than a hog knows about a holiday."
But he had seen armed men and he turned to run and give an alarm. A
bullet was swifter than he, but not swifter than his voice. He fell, but
his shouts had alarmed the town. There were two or three watchmen at the
arsenal. They came forward, only to be made prisoners. The few citizens
who had been aroused could do nothing. The "army" seized the arsenal
without difficulty.
Five miles from Harper's Ferry lived Col. Lewis W. Washington,
gentleman-farmer and slave-owner, great-grand-nephew of another
gentleman-farmer and slave-owner, George Washington. At midnight,
Colonel Washington was awakened by a blow upon his bedroom door. It
swung open and the light of a burning torch showed the astonished
Southerner four armed men, one of them a negro, who bade him rise and
dress. They were a patrol sent out by Brown. Their leader, Stevens,
asked:
"Haven't you a pistol Lafayette gave George Washington and a sword
Frederick the Great sent him?"
"Yes."
"Where are they?"
"Downstairs."
His four captors tramped downstairs with him. Pistol and sword were
found.
"I'll take the pistol," said Stevens. "You hand the sword to this
negro."
John Brown wore this sword during the fighting that followed. It is now
in the possession of the State of New York. While its being sent George
Washington by Frederick the Great is doubtful--the story runs that the
Prussian king sent with it a message "From the oldest general to the
best general"--its being surrendered by Lewis Washington to the negro is
true.
Lewis was then on the staff of the Governor of Virginia, and had
acquired in this way his title of Colonel. He was put into his own
carriage. His slaves, few in number, were bundled into a four-horse
farm-wagon. They were told to come and fight for their freedom. Too
scared to resist, they came as they were bidden to do, but they did no
fighting. At Harper's Ferry they and their fellow-slaves, seized at a
neighboring plantation, escaped back to slavery at the first possible
moment. Not a single negro voluntarily joined John Brown. He had
expected a widespread slave insurrection. There was nothing of the sort.
By Monday morning he knew he had failed, failed utterly.
Before Monday's sun set, Harper's Ferry was full of soldiers, United
States regulars and State militia. Brown, his men and his white
captives, eleven of the latter, were shut up in the fire-engine house of
the armory. The militia refused to charge the engine-house, saying that
this might cost the captives their lives. Many of them were drunk; all
of them were undisciplined; their commander did not know how to command.
The situation changed with the arrival of the United States Marines led
by Lieut.-Col. Robert E. Lee, afterwards the famous chief of the army of
the Confederate States.
By this time Tom was beginning to think he had had enough adventure. He
had enjoyed that silent tramp through the darkness beside his father. He
had enjoyed it the more because they were both prisoners-of-war. Being a
prisoner was an amazingly thrilling thing. He was sorry when brave
Patrick Hoggins was shot and glad to know the wound was slight, but
sharing in the skirmish, even in the humble capacity of a captive, had
excited the boy immensely. Now that there was almost constant firing
back and forth, when two or three wounded men were lying on the floor,
and when his father and he and Colonel Washington were perforce risking
their lives in the engine-house, with nothing to gain and everything to
lose, and when scanty sleep and little food had tired out even his stout
little body, Tom felt quite ready to go home and have his adored mother
"mother" him. His father saw the homesickness in his eyes.
"Steady, my son," said Mr. Strong. "This won't last long. No stray
bullet is apt to reach this corner, where Captain Brown has put us. The
only other danger is when the regulars rush in here, but unless they
mistake us for the raiders, there'll be no harm done then. Steady." He
looked through a bullet-hole in the boarded-up window and added: "Here
comes a flag of truce. Listen."
The scattering fire died away. The hush was broken by a commanding
voice, demanding surrender.
"There will be no surrender," quoth grim John Brown.
At dawn of Tuesday, two files of United States Marines, using a long
ladder as a battering ram, attacked the door. It broke at the second
blow. The marines poured in, shooting and striking. The battle was over.
John Brown, wounded and beaten to the floor, lay there among his men.
The captives were free. Their captors had changed places with them.
[Illustration: THE ATTACK ON THE ENGINE-HOUSE]
Colonel Washington took Mr. Strong and Tom home with him, for a rest
after the strain of the captivity. He was much interested when he found
out that Tom's great-grandfather had visited General Washington at Mount
Vernon and Tom was intensely interested in seeing the home and home life
of a rich Southern planter. The Colonel asked his guests to stay until
after the trial of their recent jailer. They did so and Mr. Strong,
after some hesitation, decided to take Tom to the trial and afterwards
to the final scene of all. He wrote to his wife: "Life is rich, my dear,
in proportion to the number of our experiences and their depth.
Ordinarily, I would not dream of taking Tom to see a criminal hung. But
John Brown is no ordinary criminal. He is wrong, but he is heroic. He
faces his fate--for of course they will hang him--like a Roman. I think
it will do Tom good to see a hero die."
Whether or no his father was right, Tom was given these experiences. He
sat beside his father and Colonel Washington at the trial. He heard them
testify. He noted the angry stir of the mob in the court-room when Mr.
Strong made no secret of his admiration for the great criminal.
Robert E. Lee, who captured Brown, said: "I am glad we did not have to
kill him, for I believe he is an honest, conscientious old man."
Virginia, Lee's State, thought she did have to kill this invader of her
soil and disturber of her slaves.
November 2, John Brown was sentenced to be hung December 2. The next day
he added this postscript to a letter he had already written to his wife
and children:
"P.S. Yesterday Nov. 2d I was sentenced to be hanged on Decem 2d
next. Do not grieve on my account. I am still quite cheerful. God
bless you all."
Northern friends offered to try to help him to break jail. He put aside
the offer with the calm statement: "I am fully persuaded that I am worth
inconceivably more to hang than for any other purpose."
December 2, John Brown started on his last journey. He sat upon his
coffin in a wagon and as the two horses paced slowly from jail to
gallows, he looked far afield, over river and valley and hill, and said:
"This _is_ a beautiful country." He was sure he was upon the threshold
of a far more beautiful country. The gallows were guarded by a militia
company from Richmond, Virginia. In its ranks, rifle on shoulder, stood
Wilkes Booth, a dark and sinister figure, who was to win eternal infamy
by assassinating Abraham Lincoln. Beside the militia was a trim lot of
cadets, the fine boys of the Virginia Military Institute. With them was
their professor, Thomas J. Jackson, "Stonewall" Jackson, one of the
heroic figures upon the Southern side of our Civil War.
When the end came, Stonewall Jackson's lips moved with a prayer for John
Brown's soul; Colonel Washington's and Mr. Strong's eyes were wet; and
Tom Strong sobbed aloud. Albany fired a hundred guns in John Brown's
honor as he hung from the gallows. In 1859 United States troops captured
him that he might die. In 1899 United States troops fired a volley of
honor over his grave in North Elba that the memory of him might live.
Victor Hugo called him "an apostle and a hero." Emerson dubbed him
"saint." Oswald Garrison Villard closes his fine biography of John Brown
with these words: "Wherever there is battling against injustice and
oppression, the Charlestown gallows that became a cross will help men to
live and die."