IVCAPTAIN BILLYAid and Comfort to the Enemy
Aid and Comfort to the Enemy
W
WHEN the General invited the Fortescue girls and their friends to spend an evening in the house on the Square, it was always understood that part of the entertainment was to be a “war story,†and, on the special evening I refer to, a barrel of apples, sent from the “northern part of the State,†gave the subject.
“Oh yes, Molly,†said the General to the girl, whom the old nurse now called “the eldest Miss Fortescue,†“you can put the apples out; and they’ve just made me remember I never told you about ‘Tobacco Billy,’†and as his eager auditors settled themselves comfortably about the fire, the General, with his peculiar quiet smile, began.
“Just hand me down that old photograph in the little black frame; there you are—poor old Tobacco Billy!â€
“Old!†exclaimed Tom Fortescue, in surprise, for the picture was that of a plain-looking, rather gawky lad of only nineteen—a “boy in blueâ€â€”with honesty and fearlessness in every line of his homely, gentle face.
“Well, I don’t say in years, perhaps,†said the General, “but in wisdom. Anyway, here’s his story. Give that coal a stir, will you. Now, then, here we are:
“We were in camp, not very far from Charleston, and it was a pretty serious business with us. You see, we hadn’t the least idea what the enemy were up to. My particular friend, Captain Kard, of the Confederate army, and I were talking about it not long ago, and he said he well remembered how, on their side, they were chuckling over our perplexity. Well, I must tell you that at the extreme end of our camp we had a bridge, and it was regularly patrolled by two of the men I picked out for the purpose, and the‘other side’ had a place beyond similarly patrolled. If any message had to be sent over, the sentries reversed their guns as a signal of truce, and word was exchanged.
“Now although we were pretty badly off for provisions, and even ammunition, it wasn’t a circumstance to the condition of the ‘Johnnies,’ as we called the gentlemen over the way, and, worst of all, the poor chaps hadn’t the comfort of a ‘smoke’ even, which, as all soldiers will tell you, keeps the gnawing feeling of hunger away for a time at least. No, sir! they hadn’t five pounds of tobacco in their camp. But never mind! I’ll tell you what they did have. They had regularly every day a copy of their own Charleston paper, which, of course, was printed for Confederate eyes alone. I was sitting in my tent one night smoking and thinking and wondering how I could lay hands on one or two of those papers. You must know, my dear children, stratagem is always allowed and understood to be used on both sides in war. It is as much a part of the whole unhappy business as loading guns and firingthem, and far better if it leads to peace and an end of cruel feeling. Now, if I could only get a copy or two of those papers, do you see, the key to the enemy’s next movements might be in our hands, and I suddenly struck a bright idea. I sent a man to replace Billy Forbes on the bridge, and presently that lad appeared in my doorway. He saluted, and I motioned him to come inside. Then, after warning him of the need of secrecy and caution, I told him my dilemma. Billy rubbed his head, whistled softly, looked up and down anxiously, and finally, after a moment’s star-gazing, ‘Lieutenant,’ says he, in his slow, Connecticut voice, ‘I’ve hit on a way—if you don’t mind.’
“‘Go ahead, Billy,’ I rejoined.
“‘Well, sir, you see those poor devils have scarcely a chew or a smoke of ’baccy among them.’
“‘How do you know?’
“‘Johnny on the other side made signs, sir, and mate and I weren’t slow to understand.’
“‘Well. Go on.’
“‘Now, if I could sneak over a bit fromthose great packages in the Quartermaster’s department, and make him know what we were after, sure as guns, Lieutenant, you’d have the papers.’
“‘Billy,’ said I, ‘you are a credit to your regiment, to say nothing of your Yankee mother. Come here in an hour, and I’ll see you have the tobacco.’
“Some enterprising dealer in the North had received a contract for that lot of stuff, and we had really, for the time being, an overabundance, so that it was by no means a difficult matter for me to secure two half-pound packets, done up in blue paper, and in about as short a time as it takes to tell the story, Billy Forbes had it tucked away, and went whistling back to his post.
“It was a clear, soft, starlit night. I sat up attending to various duties—listening to the fussy complaints and talk of one of my colleagues in command, who had it on the brain, and felt we were disgraced not knowing how to get in there. Somehow, I relied on my friend Billy to win the day by his fair ‘exchange,’ and he didn’t fail me.
“Towards morning I went down to the bridge, having sent a relief for the lad, who came back simply grinning.
“‘Easy as could be,’ he whispered. ‘Here you are, sir.’
“And from the depths of his trousers he produced the coveted little sheets.
“‘Billy,’ said I, ‘when the war is over you are likely to be a great man.’
“And I turned in to read the news.
“About ten o’clock I received an awful message, in answer to which I started post-haste for the guard-house, meeting my anxious comrade Captain Hubert on the way.
“‘A nice mess yourprotégéis in, Lieutenant!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve had to put him under arrest, and he’s doomed, sir, doomed. Will no doubt be shot, and a good warning to all like him.’
“As the Captain—in temporary command—marched on, I stood rooted to the ground. What had happened! Well, I soon found out. Billy, white to the lips, but with his head well up, told me the story. His companion,cherishing some old grudge, had watched him making the exchange—tobacco for the journals—and had made haste to report him. Billy well knew the penalty. A court-martial had to be held at once.
“Billy, poor lad, for violating the law which forbids absolutely giving aid or comfort to the enemy, must be shot! That was the law, and you must bear in mind that the well-being of a whole nation, especially in time of war, depends upon the strict discipline of the army being maintained. There were important reasons why I could not at that moment say I had, through Billy, procured the papers, and relieve him of the extreme penalty. Yet something must be done, and I must try and think it out, even though in discharging my duty I must sit in the court-martial which would undoubtedly condemn him.
“‘Billy,’ said I, with my hand on the lad’s shoulder, and looking at his white and haggard young face, ‘I’ll do my best. Unless compelled to, don’t mention the papers. That can’t be known just yet.’
“‘God bless you, sir,’ said Billy, with tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘You see, mother’d be proud if I had to die in battle; but shot down, Lieutenant, for treason—’
“Well, I can tell you, I couldn’t stand it much longer, and I went dismally enough to the court-martial. You needn’t imagine it was in any fine court-room. Dignified and often tragic as were the cases, the court sat in an old tool-shed; planks on barrels formed the tables, and for seats we had empty provision boxes turned upside down. But there was about it the solemnity of such an occasion—of a death charge, perhaps, and all the grave formality of the promptest law known. When in the paltry place the court-martial began I knew that my colleague, Captain Hubert, was in a great state of excitement, and determined, if possible, to ‘put down’ such recklessness as had been Billy Forbes’s. We had some minor cases first quickly disposed of, and then my poor fellow was led up.
MEAN AS WERE THE SURROUNDINGS IT MADE A TRAGIC SCENE
“Mean as were the surroundings, I assure you it made a tragic scene. And there theConnecticut lad stood—thinking of the mother who could never bear to hear of shame upon her soldier boy, nor care to hear after where they had made his grave.
“The Captain began the formal questioning; and Billy, in a clear, low voice, answered. Asked if he knew what it meant to converse with the enemy, he said:
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Had he reversed his gun?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Had he handed the enemy a package?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘What did it contain?’
“‘Tobacco, sir.’
“Billy whitened again, but he did not lie; and I seemed to read in the depths of his blue eyes a thought of ‘mother.’ There was a brief pause, and then I knew my moment had come. From my coat-pocket I produced a packet of the tobacco sent by our Northern contractor.
“‘Forbes.’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Was the tobacco you gave the enemylike this?’ I spoke, breaking a deathlike stillness.
“Billy’s lips quivered. His look was like Cæsar’s ‘Et tu, Brute!’ But he did not flinch. Honest eye and proudly uplifted head were there when he answered, ‘Yes, sir.’
“‘Captain Hubert,’ I observed, turning to my superior, ‘there is a cart-load of the stuff still unused, for the reason that this tobacco was condemned as unfit, owing to some poisonous substance in the blue paper wrappers. I need scarcely point out to you,’ I continued, ‘that sentence of death could only be passed on Forbes for “carrying aid or comfort to the enemy.†Now, then, Captain, if you will kindly fill your pipe from this package, I feel sure you will decide whether Forbes can be condemned to death for providing the Johnnies with comfort from old Briggs’s consignment.’
“The tension was too great for even a smile, and Captain Hubert’s face flushed scarlet. He put out his hand, then drew it back. ‘This being the case,’ said he, in a stifledvoice and rising to his feet, ‘we—we—can consider the case dismissed!’
“I met Billy a moment or two later, standing like a statue near my quarters. He looked at me piteously; but when I held out my hand, did not at once take it.
“‘Lieutenant,’ said he, with the queer smile in his honest eyes I somehow felt he’d learned from his mother, ‘I—I—God bless you, sir; but did you send me with poison to those poor chaps?’ His voice shook, but he held up his head proudly. ‘Killing them in battle, sir, would be fair and square—’
“‘Billy,’ said I, ‘give me your hand, and you’ll get your shoulder-straps before the week is out! No, my boy! I picked out papers that hadn’t a speck of white stain on them. No, you’re not a murderer, my poor Billy; and go to your tent and write to your mother, for we’re near a battle harder than the one you and I fought this morning, thanks to the papers from the enemy.’â€
“Oh, General!†exclaimed Molly, “and what happened then?â€
“Why, my child, Billy went home on afurlough six months later Captain Forbes, if you please, and at present he owns a fine country grocery, from which the apples you’re eating this minute have just come, as they do every year regularly, and not once but he encloses a big packet of tobacco marked, ‘Not dangerous, General, even to the enemy!’â€