THE FOILING OF A PLOT.
Camp Dick Robinson was all excitement. General Nelson, the man of iron
nerve, who, in the face of opposition from friends, the most direful
threats from foes, saved Central Kentucky to the Union, had been
relieved of his command and assigned to another field of labor. The new
commander to take his place was General George H. Thomas.
To Fred the news that _his_ general, as he had come to look upon Nelson,
had been assigned to another command, was anything but pleasing. "But
where Nelson goes, there will I go," was his thought. "After all," he
said, bitterly, "what does it matter where I go. I am homeless and an
outcast."
General Thomas, like Nelson, was a heavy, thickset man, but there the
likeness ended. Thomas never lost his temper, he never swore, he never
complained, he never got excited. He was always cool and collected, even
under the most trying circumstances. He afterwards became known to his
soldiers as "Pap Thomas," and was sometimes called "Slow-Trot Thomas,"
for the reason he was never known to ride his horse off a trot, even in
the most desperate battle.
When General Thomas reported to Camp Dick Robinson he and Nelson held a
long consultation. Finally Fred was called into their presence.
"This, General, is Fred Shackelford, the boy of whom I spoke," said
Nelson.
Fred saluted the new commander, and then respectfully remained standing,
awaiting orders.
"Fred," continued General Nelson, "General Thomas and I have been
discussing you, and I have been telling him how valuable your services
have been. I fully expected to take you with me to my new command, but
both General Thomas and myself feel that just at present your services
are very much needed here. This camp is very important, and it is
surrounded with so many dangers that we need to take every precaution.
You are not only well acquainted with the country, but you seem to have
a peculiar way of getting at the enemy's secrets no other one possesses.
There is no doubt but you are needed here more than at Maysville, where
I am going. But we have concluded to leave it to you, whether you go or
stay. You may be sure I shall be pleased to have you go with me. What do
you say, Fred?"
Fred looked at General Thomas, and thought he had never seen a finer,
grander face; but he had grown very fond of the fiery Nelson, so he
replied:
"General Nelson, you know my feelings towards you. I appreciate your
kindness. If I consulted simply my own wishes I should go with you. But
you have pointed out to me my duty. I am very grateful to General Thomas
for his feelings towards me. I shall stay as long as I am needed here,
and serve the general to the best of my ability."
"Bravely said, Fred, bravely said," responded Nelson. "You will find
General Thomas a more agreeable commander than myself."
"There, General, that will do," said Thomas quietly.
So it was settled that Fred was to stay for the present with General
Thomas.
The next day Generals Thomas and Nelson went to Cincinnati to confer
with General Anderson, and Fred was invited to accompany them.
Once more he was asked to lay before General Anderson the full text of
the conversation he had overheard at Georgetown. This he did.
"What do you think, General?" asked Thomas, who had listened very
closely to the recital.
"I am afraid," replied General Anderson, "that the authorities at
Washington do not fully realize the condition of affairs in Kentucky.
Neither have they any conception of the intrigue going on to take the
State out of the Union. No doubt, General Buckner has been playing a
sharp game at Washington. He seems to have completely won the confidence
of the President. It is for this reason so many of our requests pass
unheeded. If what young Shackelford has heard is true, General Buckner
is now in Richmond. He is there to accept a command from the
Confederate government, and is to return here to organize the disloyal
forces of Kentucky to force the State out of the Union. Now, in the face
of these facts, what do you think of this," and the general read the
following:
EXECUTIVE MANSION, Aug. 17th, 1861.
HON. SECRETARY OF WAR.
My Dear Sir:--Unless there be reason to the contrary, not known to
me, make out a commission for Simon B. Buckner as a
Brigadier-General of volunteers. It is to be put in the hands of
General Anderson, and delivered to General Buckner, or not, at the
discretion of General Anderson. Of course, it is to remain a secret
unless and until the commission is delivered.
A. LINCOLN.
During the reading, General Thomas sat with immovable countenance,
betraying neither approbation nor disgust. But Nelson exploded like a
volcano.
"Great God!" he roared, "are they all idiots at Washington? Buckner a
Federal general! Oh! the fools, the fools! Give him his commission,
Anderson, give him his commission, and then let Lincoln invite Jeff
Davis to a seat in the cabinet. It would be as sensible," and then he
poured forth such a volley of oaths that what he really meant to say
became obscure.
When he had blown himself out, General Thomas quietly said: "Now,
General, that you have relieved yourself, let us again talk business."
"I don't believe you would change countenance, Thomas, if Beauregard was
placed in command of the Federal armies," replied Nelson, pettishly.
"Perhaps not," calmly replied Thomas. "But Central Kentucky needed just
such fire and enthusiasm as you possess to save it from the clutches of
the rebels, and if I can only complete the grand work you have begun I
shall be content, and not worry over whom the President recommends for
office."
"You will complete it, General; my work could not be left in better
hands," replied Nelson, completely mollified.
In a few moments Nelson excused himself, as he had other duties to
perform.
Looking after him, General Anderson said: "I am afraid Nelson's temper
and unruly tongue will get him into serious trouble yet. But he has done
what I believe no other man could have done as well. To his efforts,
more than to any other one man, do we owe our hold on Kentucky."
"His lion-like courage and indomitable energy will cover a multitude of
faults," was the reply of General Thomas.
Fred returned to Camp Dick Robinson with General Thomas, and he soon
found that the general was fully as energetic as Nelson, though in a
more quiet way. The amount of work that General Thomas dispatched was
prodigious. Every little detail was looked after, but there was no
hurry, no confusion. The camp began to assume a more military aspect,
and the men were brought under more thorough discipline.
September saw great changes in affairs in Kentucky. According to the
program which Fred had heard outlined at Georgetown, the Confederates
began their aggressive movements. Hickman, on the Mississippi River, was
occupied by the Confederate army under General Polk on the 5th. As swift
as a stroke of lightning, General Grant, who was in command at Cairo,
Illinois, retaliated by occupying Paducah on the 6th. General Polk then
seized the important post of Columbus on the 7th. A few days afterward
General Buckner moved north from Tennessee, and occupied Bowling Green.
At the same time General Zollicoffer invaded the State from Cumberland
Gap. All three of these Confederate generals issued stirring addresses
to all true Kentuckians to rally to their support. It was confidently
expected by the Confederate authorities that there would be a general
uprising throughout the State in favor of the South. But they were
grievously disappointed; the effect was just the opposite. The
Legislature, then in session at Frankfort, passed a resolution
commanding the Governor to issue a proclamation ordering the
Confederates at once to evacuate the State. Governor Magoffin, much to
his chagrin, was obliged to issue the proclamation. A few days later the
Legislature voted that the State should raise a force of 40,000 men, and
that this force be tendered the United States for the purpose of putting
down rebellion. An invitation was also extended to General Anderson to
assume command of all these forces. Thus, to their chagrin, the
Confederates saw their brightest hopes perish. Instead of their getting
possession of the State, even neutrality had perished. The State was
irrevocably committed to the Union, but the people were as hopelessly
divided as ever. It was to be a battle to the death between the opposing
factions.
Shortly after his return to Dick Robinson, Fred began to long to hear
from home, to know how those he loved fared; so he asked General Thomas
for a day or two of absence. It was readily granted, and soon he was on
his way to Danville. He found only his Uncle and Aunt Pennington at
home. His father had gone South to accept the colonelcy of a regiment,
and was with Buckner. His cousin Calhoun had accompanied Colonel
Shackelford South, having the promise of a position on the staff of some
general officer. His little sister Bessie had been sent to Cincinnati to
a convent school. The adherents of the opposing factions were more
bitter toward each other than ever, and were ready to spring at each
other's throats at the slightest provocation. Neighbors were estranged,
families were broken, nevermore to be reunited; and over all there
seemed to be hanging the black shadow of coming sorrow. Kentucky was not
only to be deluged in blood, but with the hot burning tears of those
left behind to groan and weep.
Fred was received coldly by his uncle and aunt. "You know," said Judge
Pennington, "my house is open to you, but I cannot help feeling the
keenest sorrow over your conduct."
"I am sorry, very sorry, uncle, if what I have done has grieved you,"
answered Fred.
"No one can be really sorry who persists in his course," answered the
judge. "Fred, rather--yes, a thousand times--had I rather see you dead
than doing as you are. If my brave boy falls," and his voice trembled as
he spoke, "I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that he fell in a
glorious cause. But you, Fred, you----" his voice broke; he could say no
more.
Fred was deeply moved. "Uncle," he softly said, "I admit you are honest
and sincere in your belief. Why can you not admit as much for me? Why is
it a disgrace to fight for the old flag, to defend the Union that
Washington and Jefferson helped form, and that Jackson defended?"
"The wrong," answered Judge Pennington, "consists in trying to coerce
sovereign States. The Constitution gives any State the right to withdraw
from the Union at pleasure. The South is fighting for her constitutional
rights----"
"And for human slavery," added Fred.
The judge's cheeks flamed with anger.
"Look out, Fred," he exclaimed, choking with passion, "lest I drive you
from my door, despite my promise to your father. Don't go too far. You
are not only fighting against the South, but you are becoming a detested
Abolitionist--a nigger worshiper."
Fred felt his manhood aroused, but controlling his passion he calmly
replied:
"Uncle, I will not displease you longer with my presence. The time may
come when you may need my help, instead of my needing yours. If so, do
not hesitate to call on me. I still love my kindred as well as ever;
they are as near to me as ever. There is no dishonor in a man loyally
following what he honestly believes to be right. I believe you and my
father to be wrong--that your sympathies have led you terribly astray;
but in my sight you are none the less true, noble, honest men. As for
me, I answer for myself. I am for the Union, now and forever. Good-bye,
uncle! May God keep all of those we love from harm," and he rode away.
Judge Pennington gazed after him with a troubled look, and then murmured
to himself: "After all, a fine boy, a grand boy! A Kentuckian all over!
Would that he were on the right side!"
Upon Fred's return to headquarters he found General Thomas in deep
consultation with his staff. Circulars had been scattered all over the
State and notices printed in newspapers calling for a meeting of the
State Guards at Lexington on the 20th. Ostensibly the object of the
meeting was to be for a week's drill, and for the purpose of better
preparing the Guards to protect the interests of the State. But General
Thomas believed there was a hidden meaning in the call; that it was
conceived in deceit, and that it meant treachery. What this treachery
was he did not know, and it was this point he was discussing with his
staff when Fred entered. The sight of the boy brought a smile to his
face.
"Ah, my boy!" he exclaimed, "I am glad to see you. We have a hard
problem; it is one rather in your line. I trust you can solve it."
He then laid the circular before Fred, and expressed his opinion that it
contained a hidden meaning. "There is no end to those fellows'
plottings," he said, "and we are still weak, very weak here. With
General Zollicoffer moving this way from Cumberland Gap, it would not
take much of a force in our rear to cause a great disaster. In fact, a
hostile force at Lexington, even if small, would be a serious matter."
Fred read the circular carefully, as if reading between the lines, and
then asked:
"It is the real meaning of this call that you wish?"
"By all means, if it can be obtained," answered the general.
"I will try to obtain it," replied Fred, quietly. "General you may not
hear from me for two or three days."
"May success attend you, my boy," replied the general, kindly, and with
this he dismissed his staff.
"It has come to a pretty pass," said a dapper young lieutenant of the
staff to an older member, "that the general prefers a boy to one of us,"
and he drew himself proudly up, as if to say, "Now, if the general had
detailed me, there might have been some hopes of success."
The older member smiled, and answered: "I think it just as well,
Lieutenant, that he chose the boy. I don't think either you or me fitted
for that kind of work."
The lieutenant sniffed and walked off.
Again a black-haired, dark-skinned boy left headquarters at Dick
Robinson, this time for Lexington. Arriving there, Fred took a room at
the leading hotel, registering as Charles Danford, Cincinnati, thinking
it best to take an entirely fictitious name. He soon learned that the
leading Southern sympathizers of the city were in the habit of meeting
in a certain room at the hotel. He kept very quiet, for there was one
man in Lexington he did not care to meet, and that man was Major
Hockoday. He knew that the major would recognize him as the boy he met
at Georgetown, and that meant the defeat of his whole scheme. Fred's
first step was to make friends with the chamber maid, a comely mulatto
girl. This he did with a bit of flattery and a generous tip. By adroit
questioning, he learned that the girl had charge of the room in which
the meetings of the conspirators were held.
Could she in any manner secrete him in the room during one of the
meetings?
The girl took alarm. "No, youn' massa, no!" she replied, trembling.
"Not for five dollars?"
"Not fo' fiv' 'undred," answered the girl. "Massa kill me, if he foun'
it out."
Fred saw that she could not be bribed; he would have to try a new tack.
"See here, Mary," he asked, "you would like to be free, would you not,
just like a white girl?"
"Yes, massa, I woul' like dat."
"You have heard of President Lincoln, have you not?"
The girl's eyes lit up with a sudden fire. "Yes, Massa Linkun good; he
want to free we 'uns. All de niggers talkin' 'bout dat."
"Mary, I am a friend of Lincoln. One of his great men sent me here. The
men who meet in that room are his enemies. They want to kill him."
The girl's eyes opened wide with terror.
"I am here trying to find out their plans, so we can keep them from
killing Mr. Lincoln. Mary, you must help me, or you will be blamed for
what may happen, and you will never be free."
The girl began to cry. "Massa will whip me to death, if he foun' it
out," she blubbered.
"Your master will never find it out, even if I am discovered, for I will
never tell on you."
"Dat so, massa?"
"Yes; I will swear it on the Bible."
Like most of her race, the girl was very superstitious, and had great
reverence for the Bible. She went and brought one, and with his hand on
the book Fred took a most solemn oath never to betray her--no, not if he
was torn to pieces with red-hot pincers.
Along toward night she came and whispered to Fred that she had been
told to place the room in order. There was, she said, but one place to
hide, and that was behind a large sofa, which stood across one corner of
the room. It was a perilous hiding place, but Fred resolved to risk it.
"They can but kill me," thought he, "and I had almost as soon die as
fail."
It was getting dark when Mary unlocked the door of the room and let Fred
slip in. He found that by lying close to the sofa, he might escape
detection, though one should glance over the top.
The minutes passed like hours to the excited boy. The slightest noise
startled him, and he found himself growing nervous, and in spite of all
his efforts, a slight tremor shook his limbs. At last he heard
foot-falls along the hall, the door was unlocked, and some one entered
the room. It was the landlord, who lit the gas, looked carefully around,
and went out. Soon the room began to fill. Fred's nervousness was all
gone; but his heart beat so loudly that he thought it must be heard. It
was a notable gathering of men distinguished not only in State but
national affairs. Chief among them was John C. Breckinridge, as knightly
and courteous as ever; then there were Colonel Humphrey Marshall, John
H. Morgan, Colonel Preston, and a score of others. These men had
gathered for the purpose of dragging Kentucky out of the Union over the
vote of her citizens, and in spite of her loyal Legislature. In their
zeal they threw to the winds their own beloved doctrine of State
rights, and would force Kentucky into the Southern Confederacy whether
she wanted to go or not. Yet they were men of the highest character.
They believed the South was right, that it was their duty to defend her,
and that any means were lawful to bring about the desired end.
Fred, as he lay in his hiding place, hardly dared to breathe. Once his
heart ceased to beat when he heard Morgan say: "There is room behind
that sofa for one to hide."
Colonel Marshall glanced behind it, and said: "There is no one there."
Then they commenced to talk, and Fred lay and listened to the whole
plot. The State Guards were to assemble, professedly, as the circular
stated, for muster and drill, but really for one of the most daring of
_coups-de-main_.
The State arsenal at Frankfort was to be taken by surprise, and the arms
secured. The loyal Legislature was then to be dispersed at the point of
the bayonet, a provisional Legislature organized, and the State voted
out of the Union. The force was then to attack Camp Dick Robinson, in
conjunction with General Zollicoffer, who was to move up from Cumberland
Gap; and between the two forces it was thought the camp would fall an
easy prey. In the mean time, Buckner was to make a dash for Louisville
from Bowling Green. If he failed to take it by surprise, all the forces
were to join and capture it, thus placing the whole State in the control
of the Confederates.
It was a bold, but admirably conceived plan.
In an eloquent speech, Mr. Breckinridge pointed out that the plan was
feasible. He said the ball once started, thousands of Kentuckians would
spring to arms all over the State. The plan was earnestly discussed and
fully agreed to. The work of each man was carefully mapped out, and
every detail carefully arranged. At last the meeting was over, and the
company began to pass out.
Fred's heart gave a great bound. He had succeeded; the full details of
the plot were in his possession. Waiting until all were well out of the
room, he crawled from his hiding place, and passed out. But he had
exulted too soon in his success. He had scarcely taken three steps from
the door before he came face to face with Major Hockoday, who was
returning for something he had forgotten. The surprise was a mutual one.
"You here!" gasped the major. "Now I have you, you young imp of Satan,"
and he made a grab for his collar. But Fred was as quick and lithe as a
cat, and eluding the major's clutch, he gave him such a blow in the face
that it staggered him against the wall. Before he recovered from the
effects of the blow Fred had disappeared.
[Illustration: "You here!" gasped the Major, and he made a grab for his
collar.]
"Murder! murder!" the major bawled. "Stop the villain!"
From all directions the guests came running. The major's face was
covered with blood, and he truly presented a gory appearance. It was
some time before the excitement subsided so the major could tell his
story. It was that a young villain had assaulted and attempted to murder
him. By his description, the landlord at once identified the boy as the
one who occupied room 45. But a search revealed the fact that the bird
had flown. It was also ascertained that the major had received no
serious injury.
By request of the major the meeting was hastily re-convened. There, in
its privacy, he gave the true history of the attempted murder, as the
guests of the hotel thought it. The major expressed his opinion that the
boy was a spy. He was sure it was the same boy he had met in the hotel
at Georgetown. "You know," he said, "that the landlord at Georgetown
found a hole drilled through the plastering of the room that this boy
occupied, into the one which was occupied by me and in which we held a
meeting. I tell you, the boy is a first-class spy, and I would not be
surprised if he was concealed somewhere in this room during the
meeting."
"Impossible! impossible!" cried several voices, but nevertheless a
number of faces grew pale.
"There is no place he could hide in this room, except behind the sofa,
and I looked there," said Marshall.
"Are you sure you looked well?" asked Morgan.
"Quite sure."
"Gentlemen," said the landlord, "this room is kept locked. No one could
have got into it."
"All I know," said the major, "I met him about three paces from the
door, just as I turned the corner. When I attempted to stop him, he
suddenly struck the blow and disappeared. If it was not for his black
hair, I should be more than ever convinced that the boy was Fred
Shackelford."
"In league with the devil, probably," growled Captain Conway. "For if
there was ever one of his imps on earth, it's that Shackelford boy.
Curse him, I will be even with him yet."
"And so will I," replied the major, gently feeling of his swollen nose.
"Gentlemen," said John H. Morgan, "this is no time for idle regrets.
Whether that boy has heard anything or not, we cannot tell. But from
what Major Hockoday has said, there is no doubt but that he is a spy.
His assault on the major and fleeing show that. So it behooves us to be
careful. I have a trusty agent at Nicholasville, who keeps me fully
informed of all that transpires there. I will telegraph him particulars,
and have him be on the watch for such a boy."
It was an uneasy crowd that separated that night. It looked as if one
boy might bring to naught all their well-laid plans.
The next morning Morgan received the following telegram from
Nicholasville:
JOHN H. MORGAN:
Early this morning a black-haired, dark-skinned boy, riding a jaded
horse, came in on the Lexington pike. Without stopping for
refreshments he left his horse, and procured a fresh one, which the
same boy left here a couple of days ago, and rode rapidly away in
the direction of Camp Dick Robinson.
SMITH.
"That means trouble," muttered Morgan. "I must put all the boys on their
guard."
Late in the afternoon of the 19th the following telegram was received by
Morgan from Nicholasville:
JOHN H. MORGAN:
Colonel Bramlette with his regiment has just forcibly taken
possession of a train of cars, and will at once start for
Lexington. You are in danger.
SMITH.
That night Breckinridge, Marshall, Morgan and half a score of others
fled from Lexington. Their plottings had come to naught; instead of
their bright visions of success, they were fugitives from their homes.
It would have fared ill with that black-haired boy if they could have
got hold of him just then.
When Fred escaped from Major Hockoday, he lost no time in making his way
to the home of one of the most prominent Union men of Lexington. Telling
him he had most important dispatches for General Thomas, a horse was
procured, and through the darkness of the night Fred rode to
Nicholasville, reaching there early in the morning. Leaving his tired
horse, and taking his own, which he had left there, he rode with all
speed to Camp Dick Robinson, and made his report to General Thomas.
The general was both astonished and delighted. He warmly congratulated
Fred, saying it was a wonderful piece of work. "Let's see," said he,
"this is the 16th. I do not want to scare them, as I wish to make a fine
haul, take them right in their treasonable acts. It's the only way I can
make the government believe it. On the 19th I will send Colonel
Bramlette with his regiment with orders to capture the lot. I will also
have to guard against the advance of General Zollicoffer. As for the
advance of General Buckner on Louisville, that is out of my department."
"And there," said Fred, "is where our greatest danger lies. Louisville
is so far north they are careless, forgetting that Buckner has a
railroad in good repair on which to transport his men."
"Do you think he will try that?" asked Thomas.
"Why not?" answered Fred, and then he asked for a map. After studying it
for some time, he turned to Thomas and said:
"General, I have a favor to ask. I would like a leave of absence for a
week. I have an idea I want to work out."
Thomas sat looking at the boy a moment, and then said: "It is nothing
rash, is it, my boy?"
"No more so than what I have done," answered Fred. "In fact, I don't
know that I will do anything. It is only an idea I want to work on; it
may be all wrong. That is the reason I can't explain it to you."
"You are not going to enter the enemy's lines as a spy, are you? If so,
I forbid it. You are too young and too valuable to risk your life that
way."
"No, General, at least I trust not. The rebels will have to get much
farther north than they are now if I enter their lines, even if I carry
out my idea."
"Very well, Fred; you have my consent, but be very careful."
"I shall try to be so, General. I only hope that the suspicions I have
are groundless, and my journey will prove a pleasure trip."
Thus saying, Fred bade the general good day, and early the next morning
he rode away, taking the road to Danville.