MARCY SEES SOMEBODY.
If you would like to know why Captain Burrows (that was the name of the
officer who commanded the Union troopers) did not find in Mrs. Gray's
house any articles that were contraband of war, we will ride with him
and his company long enough to find out.
During the days of which we write scouting was a necessary duty, but it
sometimes happened that it was one of the most disagreeable,
particularly when it fell to the lot of a gentleman like Captain
Burrows, and his orders compelled him to enter private houses whose only
inmates were supposed to be women and children; but now and then these
scouts found able-bodied men in uniform concealed in dwellings that were
thought to be occupied wholly by non-combatants. During the Yazoo Pass
expedition the gunboat to which we belonged was ordered to search all
the houses along the banks of the Coldwater and Tallahatchie rivers,
although we knew that that important duty had already been performed by
the soldiers. In one house, whose female occupants vociferously affirmed
that all the men who belonged there were in Vicksburg and had not been
near home for six months, a belt containing a sword and revolver was
found under a bed. That was as good evidence as we wanted that the man
who owned the belt was not far away, and after a short search he was
discovered in the cellar. No doubt there were better hiding-places about
the house, but the blue-jackets came up so suddenly that he did not have
time to go to them. A little further search resulted in the finding of
some important dispatches which the Confederate had concealed in a
barrel of corned beef; but when its contents were poked over by a
bayonet, the dispatches betrayed themselves by rising to the surface. So
you see it was sometimes necessary to search private houses; but like
Mr. Watkins, the gunboat officer who took Marcy Gray from his bed to
serve as pilot in the Union navy, Captain Barrows wished that some other
officer had been detailed to do the work. Although he went from
Beardsley's house straight to Mrs. Gray's, he had no intention of
searching it. He knew more of Marcy than Tom and Mark thought, and
perhaps he could have told them a few things concerning themselves that
would have made them open: their eyes. He had halted and questioned
every negro he met on his scout, and he knew the name of every Union man
and every rebel in the settlement. When he arrived at the house he did
not lead his men into the yard, nor did he ride in himself. He
dismounted and went in on foot, and Marcy, who had seen him coming,
opened the door without giving him time to knock.
"I know you are Marcy Gray, from the descriptions I have heard of you,"
was the way in which the captain began his business. "I am told that you
have any number of dangerous weapons as well as a Confederate flag in
your possession."
"I plead guilty," replied Marcy. "Will you walk in?"
He was not at all afraid of the officer, for the latter smiled at him in
a way that put him quite at his ease. Besides, if the captain knew
anything about him, as his words seemed to indicate, he must be aware
that he had willingly served under the Union flag, and under the other
one because he could not help himself. Marcy led him into the room in
which his mother was waiting, and the captain straightway quieted her
fears, if she had any, by saying:
"I am on a scout, madam, looking for rebel soldiers and fire-arms that
may be concealed in the settlement; but, so far as you are concerned, my
visit is merely a matter of form."
"Take this chair," said Marcy, "and I will be back in a moment."
The Confederate flag had been removed from its place on the wall, but
the boy knew where to find it; and when he brought it into the room he
brought with it his fine rifle and shotgun, his revolvers, a bed-quilt
and the letter that Captain Benton had given him; and Julius, who
followed at his heels, brought as many more guns, which belonged to the
absent Jack. He was gone but a few minutes, but quite long enough to
enable Mrs. Gray to give the visitor some scraps of his history; and as
her story was confirmed by those he had heard from the negroes along his
line of march, he was so well satisfied of Marcy's loyalty that when the
latter came in and deposited his burdens on the table, the officer had
not the least intention of taking any of them away with him. He spread
the Confederate flag upon the floor so that he could see it; examined
the guns one after another, and inquired about the shooting on the
plantation; and held Captain Benton's letter up to the light, to see if
he could read what was written upon it.
"There's a fire on the hearth, sir," Marcy reminded him.
"I know there is; but if I should bring out the words by holding this
paper to the heat, and it should some day fall into the hands of the
rebels, it might make serious trouble for you," said the captain. "If
such a thing happens I don't want to be the means of it, for I know that
you were of service to our fleet during the fight at Roanoke Island."
"I was there, sir," answered the boy modestly. "And if you say so, I
will rip up this quilt and show you the Union flag that waved over my
head while I was acting as Captain Benton's pilot."
"A Union flag in this house, alongside of a Confederate!" exclaimed the
captain, who was surprised to hear it. "I should think you would be
afraid to have it about you. I understand that the most of the people in
this neighborhood are the worst of rebels."
Marcy replied that although there were some Union people in the
settlement the Confederates outnumbered them two to one, but he did not
believe that any of the latter knew there was a Union banner in the
house. Then he went on to explain how and when it came into his
possession, and again offered to produce it; but Captain Burrows said he
would not put him to so much trouble. He asked a few leading questions
which he knew Marcy could not answer unless he had really "been there,"
after which he took his cap from the table, saying as he did so:
"If you will take a friend's advice, you will conceal those guns, as
well as any other articles of value you may have, somewhere outside, and
keep Captain Benton's letter where you can put your hand on it at any
hour of the day or night. It is probable that some of our scouts will be
along here every few days, and I am afraid there will be some among them
who will insist on going through your house. Besides, the Home Guards
may need those guns to arm some of their men."
"Home Guards?" echoed Marcy. "What are they?"
"Well, they are men who, although they haven't the courage to enlist in
the army to fight us, are perfectly willing to act as police in the rear
of the Confederate army. It is their intention to patrol the settlement,
night and day, until they drive out every man who is suspected of Union
sentiments."
Marcy looked bewildered, and his mother was frightened.
"Is it possible that you haven't heard of it?" continued the captain.
"Then it proves the truth of the old saying that one needs to go away
from home to learn the news. We know all about it, and we also know that
these Home Guards intend to operate as they do in Kentucky, Tennessee,
and Missouri; that is, they will be industrious and peaceful farmers
during the daytime, and thieves and murderers at night. But mind you, as
fast as we can locate them, we shall run them in and hold them as
prisoners of war. I hope that you, and the rest of the Union people
about here, will be watchful and keep us posted."
"This is news to me," said Marcy, as soon as his surprise would allow
him to speak. "I never dreamed of such a thing."
"Then I am very glad I mentioned it," said the officer.
"And I am certain I can give you the name of every man in the company,"
added Marcy. "What do you suppose put the idea into their heads?"
"I am sure I do not know, unless it was that fight in Hampton Roads,
which created the wildest excitement all over the country. The Richmond
people were very jubilant, while our Washington folks were
correspondingly depressed."
"That is another piece of news," said Mrs. Gray. "To what particular
battle do you refer, Captain?"
"Don't you know anything about that, either?" exclaimed the officer,
throwing open his coat, and thrusting his hand into an inside pocket.
"It was a fight between our fleet and six Confederate steamers--five
wooden vessels and one iron-clad. It lasted the better part of two days.
At the end of the first day the advantage was all with the Confederates,
who captured and burned one of our best ships and sunk another, without
any serious damage to themselves. These papers, which I shall be glad to
leave with you, tell all about it, and they will also give you a faint
idea of the consternation that seized upon everybody up North, when the
story got abroad that the rebels had one single vessel that could cope
with Uncle Sam's entire navy. Every city along the coast, as well as the
capital, was supposed to be at the mercy of that one iron-clad; but when
she came out, on the morning of the 9th, to complete her work of
destruction, she ran against a snag, in the shape of a little Union
iron-clad, not more than half her size, which had come upon the scene
during the night."
"And did those two iron-clads fight?" exclaimed Marcy, who was worked up
to the highest pitch of excitement. "Which whipped?"
"Of course they fought, for that was what our vessel, the _Monitor_,
went down there for. She came in the night and anchored behind the hull
of one of our big ships, so that the rebel boat did not see her until
she was close upon her. They had the hardest kind of a fight, and our
vessel whipped."
Marcy did not break out into cheers as the captain no doubt thought he
would, but settled contentedly back in his chair and drew a long breath
of relief.
"Our fellows did not sink the _Virginia_ as they tried to do," continued
Captain Burrows, "but they gave her such a pounding that it was all she
could do to draw out of the fight and go back to Norfolk. We had the
best of the engagement, for the rebel boat failed to accomplish the
object she had in view when she came out, which was to sink the three
frigates that were aground off Fortress Monroe."
"And you think it was during the excitement consequent upon the first
day's victory that our neighbors were led to organize the Home Guards?"
said Mrs. Gray.
"I certainly think it had much to do with it," answered Captain Burrows.
"You see these 'stay-at-homers,' as I have heard them called, jumped to
the conclusion that the Yankees were whipped, and when the war is over
they want to be able to say that they helped do it."
"Pardon my curiosity," said Marcy. "But have you seen Ben Hawkins?"
"I don't think there will be any harm in telling you that I had a short
talk with him before I came here. I met him on the road, and he
volunteered so much information concerning his neighbors that I became
suspicious of him. But I have since learned that he told me nothing but
the truth. He is a paroled prisoner and, I may add, a warm friend to you
and your mother."
"And you do not think it would be unwise to trust him?" said Mrs. Gray,
who had listened with surprise to her son's account of the speech he had
heard Hawkins deliver in the post-office.
"No, I do not. He is very bitter against the Confederacy, as many of his
comrades are; he has had enough of soldiering, and if I were in your
place I think I should look upon him as a friend."
"I thank you for saying so much," replied Marcy. "I am sure we need
friends bad enough."
"And don't forget," said the captain as he rose to go, "that we are not
here for fun. I shall report you to my commander as a staunch Union
family, and if your rebel neighbors prove troublesome and you will let
us know, we will surely punish them for it. I wish you good-day."
"Now there's a friend worth having," said Marcy, when he and his mother
were once more alone. "He brought us bad news, though. He did not want
to say too much against his comrades, but he said enough, and I think we
had better hide your silver and jewelry before some rascal in blue walks
off with them."
"No doubt it would be a wise thing to do," replied Mrs. Gray. "He said
he heard that there were arms and a flag in the house; have you any idea
who told him?"
"Beardsley is the chap," answered Marcy readily. "Two or three times I
was on the point of asking what the captain said to him, but I was
afraid he might not answer me. Beardsley can't get me into trouble with
the Yankees, and he might as well give up trying. Now let's read about
the fight in Hampton Roads."
"What about the Home Guards?" said his mother.
"I will take a ride presently and see if I can learn something about
them. They must have been very sly in getting up their company, for I
don't believe our darkies knew the first thing about it. If they did
they would have told us. I wonder if it wouldn't be a good plan for me
to join it."
"Why, Marcy, they would not accept you!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray.
"That's what I think; but if they refuse it will show me that I had
better be on my guard, won't it?"
"I am glad to know that Hawkins is our friend."
"When I met him in Nashville, and he took the trouble to cross the road
and shake hands with me and say that I did just right while I was on
Captain Benton's gunboat, I knew right where he stood," answered Marcy.
"I can see him as often as I have anything to say to him, for he is
loafing about the settlement all the time."
While Marcy talked he was looking through one of the papers Captain
Burrows had left behind for the account of that famous fight in Hampton
Roads, and when he found it he read it aloud. The result of the first
day's struggle must have been alarming as well as discouraging to the
loyal people in the North, and the gloomy predictions that were made in
the papers concerning the terrible things the Virginia was going to do
when she finished the Union fleet at Fortress Monroe, were enough to
make Marcy feel gloomy himself. But the account of the next fight was
most inspiriting. The little _Monitor_ proved to be more than a match
for her ponderous antagonist. Washington would not be bombarded, the
blockading fleet, which the _Virginia_ was to sink or capture at her
leisure, was still on top of the water and likely to stay there, and the
recognition of the Southern Confederacy by France and England was as far
off as ever.
"There's one thing I like about Northern papers," said Marcy, when he
had read every line he could find that in any way related to the matter
that was just then uppermost in his mind. "They always tell the truth.
If their people are whipped they don't hesitate to say so, but ours
gloss it over and try to make it appear that every fight is a
Confederate victory. According to our Newbern papers the South hasn't
lost a single place that she couldn't spare as well as not. Donelson and
Fort Henry were outposts that we did not intend to hold anyway, and
Roanoke Island was of so little consequence that the Richmond
authorities did not garrison it as heavily as they would if they had
wanted to keep it. It's the worst kind of bosh, and everybody in the
South knows it. Now then," he added, addressing himself to Julius, who,
since he followed his master into the room, had stood in one corner
hearing and seeing all that was said and done, "put these guns and
things where they belong, and stand by to-night after dark to help me
hide them in the garden. You heard what that Federal officer said about
the Home Guards, didn't you? Well, what do you know of them?"
"Not de fustest think, Marse Mahcy," answered the boy earnestly. "Dey
gettin' to be mighty jubus of de niggahs round hyar, an' nobody nebber
say nuffin whar Julius kin ketch it."
"Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you do catch on to anything come
straight to me with it; do you understand? Now I am going to ride out
for a while."
"Do you intend to say anything about our visitors?" inquired his
mother.
"If I meet anyone who knows they were here I don't see how I can avoid
speaking of them," was Marcy's reply. "But circumstances will have to
determine what I shall say about them. I don't mean to let every Tom,
Dick, and Harry know how very friendly that captain was with us. I don't
think it would be just the thing. Good-by."
"Look a hyar, Marse Mahcy," began Julius; and then he hesitated for as
much as a minute before he went on to say, "You know dat niggah Mose?"
"Yes, I know Mose," answered Marcy, and he might have added that he knew
him to be the laziest and most worthless black man on the plantation.
"What of him?"
"Well, sar, moster," replied the boy, "when I fotch in dem guns an' luf
'em on de table I slip out de do' kase I aint wantin' to see no horns
an' hoofs like Marse Jack say de Yankees done got, an' I see Mose
talkin' wid dem soldiers in de road. Den he slip thoo 'em into de bresh
on de odder side de road an' never come out no mo'; an' den I come hyar
to tol' you."
"Do you mean to say that Mose has run away?" cried Marcy and his mother
in concert.
"Yes, sar, missus; dat's what I mean," replied Julius.
Marcy was much surprised to hear it, but after all it was nothing more
nor less than he had predicted when the war first broke out. The negroes
knew to a man that the contest between the North and South would decide
whether they were to be bondsmen or free, and it was natural that their
sympathies should be on the side of those who did not believe in
slavery, and that they should desire to be with them.
"You are quite sure that the Yankee soldiers did not take Mose away, are
you?" said Marcy, after a little pause.
Yes, Julius was positive about that. When the Federal captain left the
house Julius had hastened to the front porch in order to satisfy himself
on that very point, and had taken pains to see that Mose was not with
the soldiers when they rode away. Mose had gone on his own hook.
"I am afraid he will repent when it is too late," said Mrs. Gray, with a
sigh of regret. "Mose is too old, and too badly crippled with
rheumatism, to be of any use to his new friends."
"I suppose you and Morris will be going next," said Marcy, nodding at
Julius, "and that, if I want my filly brought to the door, I can bring
her myself."
"Oh, hursh, honey," replied the boy. "I aint a-keerin what dat old
niggah Morris gwine do, but Julius aint gwine run away."
"I think you are better off here than you would be anywhere else. The
Yankees believe that those who don't work can't eat, and that would let
you out so far as grub is concerned. You never did a hand's turn in your
life. Now go and tell Morris to saddle my horse, and then come back, and
put away these guns as I told you."
When Julius left the room Marcy put on his hat, and went out to ask if
any of the other house servants knew that old Mose had run away, and was
not much surprised to find that they all knew of it and had been
expecting it, for Mose had given them due-notice of what he intended to
do. He had often been heard to say that if the Yankee soldiers ever came
to the plantation he would go away with them, and he had kept his word.
Some planters in the neighborhood would have said, "Good riddance to bad
rubbish," for of late years Mose had not done work enough to pay for the
corn meal and bacon he ate, let alone the clothes he wore; but Marcy
felt sorry for him, and predicted that Mose would repent of his bargain
in less than a month.
"Marse Mahcy, will the Yankees luf him come back if he wants to?"
inquired Morris.
"I reckon not," was the boy's answer. "The Federal general, Butler, has
declared slaves to be contraband of war, and I don't think they will
give Mose up any more than they would surrender a mule they had
captured. Now, what do you black ones know about the Home Guards?"
The expression of bewilderment that came upon the ebony faces by which
he was surrounded prepared Marcy for the reply. The servants, one and
all, declared that they did not know what he meant; and this made it
plain that the rebels in the settlement were beginning to learn that
their black people could not be trusted to keep their secrets. He went
into the house to tell his mother what he had learned, and finding his
filly at the door when he came back, he mounted and rode away.
The first white man he saw was one who could have told him all about the
Home Guards if he had been so disposed. It was Captain Beardsley, who
was still in the field with his negroes, Tom Allison and Mark Goodwin
having left him a few minutes before Marcy came up. The man did not stop
his work and come to the fence, nor did he look up as Marcy rode by; and
this made the latter believe that his old captain had some reason for
wishing to avoid him.
"He is going to spring something else on me, and before long, too," was
what Marcy said to himself as he passed on down the road. "When
Beardsley won't talk he is dangerous."
That he had shot close to the mark was made evident to Marcy before ten
minutes more had passed over his head. A short distance farther on was
the gate which gave entrance to the carriage-way that ran by the ruins
of Beardsley's home. It was wide open, and as he rode up he saw a
horseman passing through it. Marcy had a fair view of him, and
recognized him at once as the man Hanson, his mother's old overseer; and
he was riding one of Beardsley's horses.