council of war was held, presided over by John Boyle O’Reilly. On the
following morning General Spear, the secretary of war of the Fenian
Brotherhood, arrived at St. Albans and tried to do something practical
in the way of continuing the invasion. He pleaded with Le Caron to
supply him with 400 or 500 stands of arms and ammunition within the
next twenty-four hours, but the spy felt that it would not do for him
to allow further operations, and so he said that it would be impossible
to grant the demands under the condition of affairs then prevailing.
Thousands of Canadian troops had arrived on the border and were making
the position of the Irish volunteers more precarious every moment.
Fortunately for Le Caron, the appearance of United States troops in the
vicinity put any further attempt at war operations out of the question,
for in order to avoid arrest for a breach of the neutrality laws the
Fenians were compelled to disappear. The spy left with them and hurried
to Malone and found a similar state of affairs prevailing there,
although the arrest of O’Neill and the anticipated appearance of United
States troops filled the invaders with dismay.
Le Caron was elated with his success and anxious to report himself
at the Canadian headquarters without delay. He knew, however, that
it would not be safe for him to go direct to Ottawa so he traveled
in a roundabout way. One night he stopped with the Commissioner of
the Quebec police, and the following morning took a train for Ottawa.
Before this journey was concluded he found that he had been altogether
too premature in his self congratulations, because that journey brought
him closer to discovery than he had ever been before.
The incident which threatened to deprive him of his usefulness as a
spy occurred at Cornwall where there was the usual half hour’s delay
for dinner. He was in the midst of his meal, enjoying it with great
zest in spite of the fact that his work as a spy had sent hundreds of
men to their death, when two men stopped and gazed at him with unusual
interest. One of them was tall and very military in his manner, and the
other had on clerical attire. As Le Caron ceased eating he heard the
clerical looking one say as he pointed his finger in his direction:
“That is the man!”
Advancing, the tall man, who subsequently turned out to be the Mayor of
Cornwall, said with a Scotch accent:
“You are my prisoner!”
These words were accompanied with a strong grasp of the hand on the
shoulder of the suspected one. He imagined there was some mistake, and
laughed as he turned around to resume his dinner, but the Scotchman
gave an added squeeze to his arm as he solemnly repeated the words:
“You are my prisoner, and you must go with me at once.”
It turned out later that the ministerial looking person was a wandering
preacher who happened to be in the vicinity of Malone when Le Caron
was loading arms there and he had been pointed out to him as the
leading Fenian agent. The preacher’s memory was a very good one, and he
immediately recognized the spy when he met him again.
It was a serious condition of affairs for Le Caron, but still he could
not entirely comprehend what it all meant, and he said:
“Will not you let me finish my dinner?”
“No,” was the sharp reply, “you have got to come at once.”
“For what reason am I arrested?” asked Le Caron.
“You are a Fenian,” was the indignant reply, and then for the first
time the spy noticed that the crowd in the room was beginning to show
signs of anger and indignation toward him.
He was hurried out by his captors and taken to a room adjoining the
ticket office, where a demand was made on him for his luggage and keys
with everything on his person. He had with him documents which would
reveal everything if they were made public. His position was dangerous,
as he puts it “distinctly dangerous.”
In this emergency he asked the Mayor for a few minutes’ private
conversation, and it was accorded him. They went inside the ticket
office and Le Caron told him the exact situation. It was true, he
admitted, that he had been working with the Fenians, but he was also a
Government agent. In fact he was a British spy who had been keeping the
Canadian officials informed of the details of the proposed invasion. He
said that he was then on his way to Ottawa to see Judge McMicken. He
said that to delay or expose him would mean serious difficulty to the
Government.
His manner must have impressed the Mayor, for he decided to send him
on to Ottawa in charge of an escort with instructions to find out from
Judge McMicken whether his story was to be believed. The details of Le
Caron’s arrest as a Fenian quickly spread amongst his fellow passengers
and the reception he received along the journey was not very agreeable,
so for safety’s sake the lieutenant transferred him to the care of a
sergeant and two other soldiers. The carriage in which they traveled
was the sole point of attraction in the train, and the Canadians,
crowding around this carriage, hissed and hooted him, while their
cries of “Hang him! Lynch him!” gave him a very uncomfortable idea of
what would happen if he were left alone amongst them.
On reaching Prescott junction Le Caron found the news of his capture
had preceded him and created such a sensation that a special
correspondent of the _Toronto Globe_ had traveled to meet him in order
to find out who and what he was and everything about him. The spy of
course refused to have anything to say. When the party arrived at
Ottawa a representative of Judge McMicken was waiting for him at the
station. He was conveyed to the police station without delay, and there
the judge heard the details of his capture and received possession of
his person and gave a formal receipt for his custody. After the guard
left the judge listened to the recital of the spy and arranged that his
identity should not become public. He also supplied him with needful
funds to leave Canada. This came in the form of a check and it was
necessary to have some one cash it. This was done at one of the clubs
in Ottawa and the amount of the check—$350.00—caused the club porter
to speak of it to some of his friends. This porter knew that Le Caron
was the Fenian prisoner and he let out the secret a little later. It
became public property and the Canadian press published the fact that
an important Fenian had been in Ottawa immediately after the raid and
received a large sum of money from a Government official with whom he
was in communication, adding that the Fenians must have been nicely
duped all through.
Le Caron was very much disturbed by this publication. It was bringing
danger very close to him, and yet strange as it may appear, suspicion
did not rest upon him in connection with the newspaper story. He drove
from Ottawa in the night and got safely home, not being troubled
afterwards by any of the events of that fateful invasion into Canada.
Le Caron studied medicine after that and subsequently became
connected with the Clan-na-Gael. He became one of the members of the
military board of organization and in that capacity continued to send
information to his friends at Scotland Yard. While he was in this
organization he became acquainted with many of its leading members who
believed that he was really a friend of Ireland and who never suspected
that he was connected with the British Government and was regularly
receiving compensation for the information which he sent from time to
time to the home office in London.
Le Caron continued to serve as an English spy for nearly twenty years
after the Fenian invasion of Canada. His part in that affair—or
at least the part he played in keeping the Canadian and English
governments informed of the movements of the Irish patriots—was never
suspected by the men with whom he was associated and with whom he
lived on such intimate terms. He was in constant communication with
Mr. Anderson, the head of Scotland Yard, and his letters to that
official, if gathered together, would make a volume in themselves.
On one occasion when he was leaving America for a trip abroad he was
entrusted with letters to Patrick Egan and other Irish leaders. He met
Egan in Paris, and spent weeks with him in visiting places of interest
in the French capital. They attended the theater together and dined at
various restaurants in company, and Le Caron proudly boasts that he
never had to spend a penny, because Egan insisted upon being the host
at their various entertainments.
But it was when the famous suit of Parnell against the _London Times_
was tried that the spy was at last revealed in his true light. He says
of that event:
“On Tuesday morning, the 5th of February, 1889, the curtain was rung
up, and throwing aside the mask forever, I stepped into the witness box
and came out in my true colors, as an Englishman, proud of his country,
and in no sense ashamed of his record in her services.”
His one complaint was that he had been treated badly in the matter
of his pay by the British Government. He said that “the miserable
pittance doled out for the purpose of fighting the Clan-na-Gael becomes
perfectly ludicrous” in the light of the service he was called on to
perform.
It all depends upon the way in which the business is regarded, and
there are still a great many persons that will resent the effort of
Thomas Beach, or Major Henri Le Caron, to place a halo about his
head.
XV
HOW EMMA EDMONDS PENETRATED THE CONFEDERATE LINES
This is a leaf from the life of an extraordinary woman who served as a
nurse and a spy in the Union army during the Civil War in the United
States, and who was a pronounced success in both capacities. Few women
that have passed through such thrilling adventures are so little known
to fame, yet if the patient seeker be willing to spare the time and
the labor he may find in the files of the War Department at Washington
reports in her handwriting which had a material influence upon more
than one battle during the four years of the war.
Emma Edmonds was an adopted American. She was born and educated in the
province of New Brunswick, but came to the United States at an early
age. She was passing through New York on her way to her future home
in New England when the newspapers appeared on the street with the
announcement of the fall of Fort Sumter, and President Lincoln’s call
for seventy-five thousand men. That happening changed the entire course
of her life. Ten days later she had been enrolled as a field nurse in
the Union army, and was in Washington waiting to be detailed for duty.
The first assignment came sooner than was expected. Almost before she
knew it she was in the thick of the work that followed the battle of
Manassas. She spent three hours with other nurses in caring for the
needs of the men—even while the battle was in progress. Presently the
enemy made a desperate charge on the Union troops, driving them back
and taking possession of the spring from which they obtained their
water. The chaplain’s horse was shot from under him and bled to death
in a little while. Not long afterwards Colonel Cameron, brother of the
Secretary of War, came dashing along the line shouting:
“Come on, boys, they’re in full retreat!”
The words had scarcely been uttered when he fell, pierced to the heart
by a bullet. It was mortal and all that the nurse could do was to fold
his arms, close his eyes and leave him in the cold embrace of death.
And all the while the battle raged about them. This was but one of a
score of incidents that prepared a frail woman for the breath-taking
career which she was to follow during the four years of the Civil
War—incidents which are more thrilling than those to be found in the
pages of the most exciting fiction.
All of this was preliminary to Emma Edmonds’ work as a spy. One morning
a detachment of the Thirty-seventh New York Regiment that had been sent
out on scouting duty returned with several prisoners and the statement
that one of the Federal spies had been captured and executed. There
was regret, not alone over the death of the man, but also because a
valuable soldier had been lost to the United States Secret Service.
Incidentally it brought the opportunity for which the fearless woman
had been waiting. She was told that she might have the opportunity of
becoming a spy if she fully realized the danger and the responsibility
that was attached to the post. She considered it carefully and said
that if appointed she would accept and do the best she knew how for the
Government.
Her name was sent to headquarters, and she was soon summoned to appear
there herself. She was questioned and cross-questioned at some length;
she was examined at length as to her knowledge of firearms, and finally
the oath of allegiance was administered and she became a regular
commissioned spy for the Federal army. It was at once decided that she
should adopt a disguise and attempt to penetrate the Confederate lines.
In the first place she purchased a suit of contraband clothing, real
plantation style such as the male negroes wore, and then went to a
barber and had her hair sheared close to her head. After that, by the
use of stains and dyes she colored her face, and then she was ready for
business. It might be well to state, at this stage of the narrative,
that Emma Edmonds while in the secret service penetrated the enemy’s
lines, in various disguises, no less than eleven times; always with
complete success and without detection.
She started on her first expedition toward the Confederate capitol
with the greatest confidence imaginable. With a few hard crackers in
her pocket and her revolver loaded and capped she began the journey on
foot, and without a blanket or any other kind of baggage that might
excite suspicion. At half-past nine o’clock at night she passed the
outer picket line of the Union army and at twelve o’clock was within
the Confederate lines without once being halted by a sentinel. Once she
passed within ten rods of a Confederate picket without being detected.
As soon as she had gone a safe distance from the picket lines she lay
down and rested until morning. The night was chilly and the ground
damp and she passed the weary hours in fear and trembling. The first
thing in the morning she met a party of negroes carrying hot coffee and
provisions to the Confederate pickets. This was most fortunate for she
made their acquaintance, and after securing a hot breakfast she marched
into Yorktown with them without eliciting the slightest suspicion. The
negroes went to work at once on fortifications that were being erected,
and the spy was left by herself. But an officer seeing her a few
minutes later turned to an overseer and said:
“Take that black rascal and set him to work, and if he don’t work well
tie him up and give him twenty lashes.”
So saying he rode away, and the disguised one was conducted to a
breastwork which was in course of erection and where there were about a
hundred negroes at work. She was soon furnished with a pick and shovel
and a wheelbarrow and put to work. It was hard—hard enough for the
strongest man, but with occasional assistance from some kind-hearted
darky she managed to do her part. All day long she worked in this
manner until her hands were blistered and her back nearly broken. When
night came she was released from her toil and was free to go where she
pleased. She made good use of her liberty. She wandered about the place
and made out a brief report of the mounted guns she found in her ramble
around the fort. There were fifteen three-inch rifle cannon, eighteen
four and a half inch rifle cannon, twenty-nine thirty-two pounders,
twenty-three eight-inch Columbiads, eleven nine-inch Dalgrens, thirteen
ten-inch Columbiads, fourteen ten-inch mortars and seven eight-inch
siege howitzers.
This capitulation must sound strange to those acquainted with
present-day methods of warfare, but it was all very important to the
spy, who made out her list with the greatest care. After that she made
a rough sketch of the outer works, and placing the precious papers
under the inner sole of her contraband shoe she returned to the negro
quarters. She did not want to stay with them, but she did wish to find
some one among them who would change places with her on the following
day. She was fortunate in discovering a lad of about her own size who
was engaged in carrying water to the troops. He said he would take
her place next day and he thought he could find a friend to do the
same thing the following day, for which evidence of brotherly kindness
the female spy offered him $5.00 in greenbacks, which, he said, was
more money than he had ever seen in all of his life before. By this
arrangement Miss Edmonds escaped the scrutiny of the overseer, who
might have detected her disguise.
The second day in the Confederate service was pleasanter than the
first. She had only to supply one brigade with water, which did
not require much energy, for the day was cool and the well not far
distant. As a result of this she had an opportunity of lounging among
the soldiers and of hearing important steps discussed. In this way she
learned the number of reënforcements which had arrived from different
places and also had the pleasure of seeing General Lee, who came there
to consult with other Confederates. It was whispered among the men
that he had been telegraphed to for the purpose of inspecting the
fortifications, as he was the best engineer in the Confederacy and
that he had pronounced it impossible to hold Yorktown after McClellan
opened his siege guns upon it. General Johnson was hourly expected with
a force at his command, and including all, the Confederates estimated
their force in and around Yorktown at 150,000 men.
When General Johnson arrived a council of war was held. Soon after that
the report began to circulate that the town was to be evacuated. It
was at this stage of the game that Miss Edmonds saw a man who had been
coming into the Federal camp as a peddler of newspapers and stationery,
and now here he was giving the Confederates a full description of the
Union camp and the Union forces. She watched him closely and discovered
him displaying a map of the entire works of McClellan’s position.
Miss Edmonds decided that it was of the utmost importance for her to
leave the camp of the enemy and carry the information she possessed to
the Union headquarters. The important thing now was to leave without
being detected. On the evening of the third day from the time she
entered the camp of the enemy she was sent in company with colored men
to carry supper to the outer picket posts. This was just what she hoped
and wished for. During the day she had provided herself with a canteen
of whisky. Some of the men on picket duty were colored and others were
white, but calling them to her side she spread before them corn cake
and added to that a moderate amount of whisky for dessert. While they
were thus engaged minnie balls were whistling around their heads, for
the picket lines of the two armies were not more than half a mile
distant from each other.
Not long after nightfall an officer came riding along the lines, and
seeing the spy there, wanted to know his business. One of the darkies
replied that she had helped to carry out their supper and was waiting
until the Yankees stopped firing before she started back. Turning to
the disguised one, he said:
“You come along with me. I’ll see that you have something to occupy
your mind.”
Miss Edmonds did as she was ordered and they went back the way he had
come until they had gone about fifty rods, then halting in front of a
petty officer he said:
“Put this fellow on the post where that man was shot—and see that he
stays there until I return.”
So the spy was conducted a few rods farther and then a rifle put in her
hands, which she was told to use freely in case she should see anybody
or anything approaching from the enemy. The officer, of course,
regarded her as an irresponsible negro, and after giving her the
assignment took her by the coat collar and gave her a vigorous shake.
“Now, you black rascal,” he cried, “if I catch you sleeping at your
post I’ll shoot you like a dog.”
It was a startling position for a stranger in a strange land,
especially when that one happened to be a female spy in disguise.
The night was very dark and it was beginning to rain. She was all
alone now and she could not guess when she would be relieved or just
what the next hour might bring forth. Her one thought was to escape.
After ascertaining as well as possible the position of the picket on
each side of her—each of whom was enjoying the shelter of the nearest
tree—she deliberately and noiselessly stepped into the darkness and was
soon gliding swiftly through the forest toward the Union lines. She had
to make her approach very carefully for she was in as much danger of
being shot by her friends as by the enemy, so she spent the remainder
of the night within hailing distance of the Union lines, and with the
first dawn of morning hoisted the well known signal and was heartily
welcomed back to her own camp.
She made her way to the tent containing the hospital nurses and removed
as much of the color from her face as was possible with the aid of
soap and water. She then made out a report and carried it to the
headquarters of General McClellan. He was intensely interested in the
news that had been brought him and heartily congratulated the spy on
her work. The rifle which she had carried from the Confederate lines
was an object of much curiosity, and it is now said to be in one of the
museums in the national capitol as a memento of the war.
It was several weeks before the female spy received her second
assignment, and then when it came a new disguise was necessary.
The African costume was abandoned and she decided to go into the
Confederate lines this time in the capacity of an Irish apple woman,
so she procured the dress and outfit that was necessary for this
impersonation and also practiced the brogue that might be needed to
carry her through the emergency. The bridges were not finished across
the Chickahominy when she was ready to cross the river, so she packed
up her new disguise in the cake and pie basket and swam across the
river mounted on her horse, which was known as Frank. Reaching the
other side she dismounted and led him to the edge of the water. Giving
him a farewell pat she permitted him to swim back to the other side,
where a soldier awaited his return.
It was night, and as she did not know the precise distance to the
enemy’s picket lines she thought it best to avoid the road and
consequently determined to spend the night in the swamp. It required
some time to put on her new disguise and to feel at home in the
clothes. She whimsically said at the time that she thought the best
place for her début as an apple woman was the Chickahominy swamp. She
did not propose this time to pass the enemy’s lines in the night, but
to present herself at the picket line at a seasonable hour and to ask
admission as one of the fugitives of that section who was flying at
the approach of the Yankees.
In crossing the river she had her basket strapped on her back and did
not know that its contents were completely drenched until she was
required to use them. Later she discovered with much terror that she
was suffering from fever and ague as a result of spending the night
in the wet clothing in that malaria infested region. Her mind began
to wander and she became delirious. There seemed to be the horrors of
a thousand deaths centered around her. She was tortured by fiends of
every shape and magnitude, but morning came at last and she was aroused
from the nightmare which had paralyzed her senses by the roar of the
cannon and the screaming of the shells.
The cannonading ceased in a few hours, but the chills and fever clung
to the spy and were her constant companion for two days and two nights.
At the end of that time she was certainly an object of pity; with no
medicine or food and little strength, she was almost in a state of
starvation. Her pies and cakes were spoiled and she had no means of
procuring more. It was nine o’clock in the morning of the third day
after crossing the river when she started to what she thought was the
enemy’s lines. She traveled from that time until four o’clock in the
afternoon and was then deeper in the swamp than when she started. As
it was a dark day in every sense of the word, she had neither sun nor
compass to guide her, but at five o’clock the booming of cannon came
to her like music, because it was the signal that would guide her out
of the wilderness. She turned her face in the direction of the scene
of action and soon after emerging from the swamp she saw a small white
house in the distance.
The house was deserted with the exception of a sick Confederate soldier
who lay on a straw tick on the floor in a helpless condition. He had
been ill with typhoid fever and was very weak.