In accordance with my instructions, Webster commenced his tour through southern Maryland, on Thursday, September 26th. He was accompanied by John Scully, who had been assisting him in his Baltimore operations, and they followed a line of travel which I laid out for them. Taking passage on the steamboat "Mary Washington," they baffled the officers who stopped them by showing a pass issued by the Provost-Marshal of Baltimore, and were soon steaming down the Chesapeake toward Fair Haven, which was their pretended destination. Arriving at that point they went ashore, and proceeded to the village of Friendship. From there they worked their way south-west to Prince Frederick, then across the Big Patuxent to Bendict, from which place they proceeded to Charlotte Hall, and thence on foot to Leonardtown, a distance of twenty miles. At the last-named place they found Wm. H. Scott, another ofmy operatives, awaiting them, and were accompanied by him during the remainder of the journey.
A number of messages, written and verbal, which had been intrusted to Webster by his Baltimore associates, were delivered at various points on the route, thus enabling them to form the acquaintance of certain secessionists who were men of prominence and influence in their respective neighborhoods, and who in turn provided them with letters of introduction to others of like ilk further on. Through this medium they secured attention and hospitality wherever they stopped, and had the advantage of valuable advice and assistance in the matter of pursuing their journey safely.
They represented themselves to be rebel sympathizers on their way to the Potomac, for the purpose of finding a safe place where goods could be shipped across the river into Virginia. They were frequently cautioned to be very careful, as there were Union soldiers stationed all along the river, and people whose hearts were with the South were not permitted to express their sentiments with impunity. They penetrated as far as a point called Allen's Fresh, and deciding that they had gained all the information that could be picked up in that part of the country, they returned to Washington and reported to me.
When Webster re-appeared on the streets of Baltimore, after completing this trip, he was more than ever lionized by his numerous friends who were inthe secret of his Southern journey, and its supposed object. By endangering his life in the Southern cause, as it was believed he had done, he had made himself a hero in the eyes of the traitors who were attached to him.
"Are you still keeping mum?" he asked, as he stood in the center of a group at Dickinson's billiard hall, adjoining the Exchange.
"Those who have any regard for their personal safety are doing so," replied Rogers; "and I think the majority of the boys have learned that lesson. Baltimore is comparatively quiet now. Only one man has been arrested since you left, and we have hopes that he will be released."
"Who is he?"
"A man from Washington. He was fool enough to think he could talk as he pleased in Baltimore."
"By the way," remarked some one present, "Webster must join our——"
"Sh," cautioned Dave Dickinson, the proprietor of the billiard room. "Have you no more sense than to reveal yourselfhere? Remember that your lips are sealed by an oath on that subject."
There was a moment's silence; Webster looked from one to another, and noticed that an air of mystery had settled upon every countenance present.
"What's this?" he demanded with a laugh. "Is it a conspiracy to betray me into the hands of the enemy?"
"Not exactly," replied Dickinson, whose laugh was echoed by the crowd. "Sloan, you will give Mr. Webster his cue when a favorable opportunity occurs. We want him with us, by all means."
Webster's curiosity was satisfied an hour later, when he and Sam Sloan walked toward Miller's Hotel together.
"The fact is," said Sam, in a guarded tone, "since you went away we've formed a secret organization."
"A secret organization?"
"Yes; and we have held several meetings."
"Is it a success?"
"A perfect success. Some of the best in town are among our members. We may be forced to keep silent, but, by Heaven! they can't compel us to remain idle. We are well organized, and we mean undying opposition to a tyrannical government. I tell you, Webster,we will not down!"
"Never!" responded Webster, copying the boastful tone and bearing of his companion. "It does not lie in the power of these white-livered Yankees to make slaves of Southern men! I should like to become a member of your society, Sloan."
"They all want you," said Sloan, eagerly. "They passed a resolution to that effect at the last meeting. They want the benefit of your counsel and influence."
"What is your society called?"
"The Knights of Liberty."
"When will your next meeting be held?"
"To-night."
"So soon?"
"And you are expected to attend. Have you any objections?"
"None whatever. But how will I get there?"
"I am delegated to be your escort," replied Sloan.
"What is your hour of meeting?"
"Twelve o'clock."
"Ah, a midnight affair. All right, Sam; you'll find me waiting for you at the hotel."
Here they separated. Webster realized that quite an important period in his Baltimore experience was opening up before him, and that all his detective skill would probably be called into play to foil a band of conspirators. How to thwart the schemes of these Knights of Liberty, whose purpose, as he understood, was to assist in the overthrow of the Government of the United States, was now the question to be solved.
He did not, however, attempt to form any plans at this time, but waited for such developments as he had no doubt would be made that night. He resolved to learn the nature of the plots that were in existence, before he commenced counterplotting.
Promptly at eleven o'clock Sam Sloan put in an appearance at the hotel, and he and Webster proceededtoward the place of meeting. The night was dark and stormy, just the right sort of night, Webster thought, for the concocting of hellish plots and the performance of evil deeds.
"That night, a chiel might understand,The Deil had business on his hand."
"That night, a chiel might understand,The Deil had business on his hand."
The stars were hidden from view by masses of flying clouds; the wind whistled shrilly through the trees and spires; while the deep, threatening murmurs of distant thunder were accompanied by fitful flashes of lightning, which illumined the scene with a weird, quivering light. Few shops were open in the localities through which they passed. Occasionally a light was seen struggling through the screened window of a saloon, and the sound of midnight orgies within indicated that business had not been suspended there; but elsewhere all was dark and still.
Sloan led the way to a remote quarter of the city, and into a street which bore a particularly bad reputation. Here he stopped, and said:
"I must blindfold you, Webster, before proceeding further. This is a rule of the order which cannot, under any circumstances, be departed from."
Webster submitted quietly, while a thick bandage was placed over his eyes and securely fastened. Then Sloan took him by the arm and led him forward.
Blindfolded as he was, he knew that they turned suddenly into an alleyway, and he also knew when they passed through a gate, which Sloan closed behind them. He rightly conjectured that they were now in a sort of paved court, in the rear of a building.
"Come this way and make no noise," whispered Sloan.
The next moment the latter knocked on a door with a low, peculiar rap, that was like a signal. Immediately a guarded voice on the inside was heard:
"Are you white?"
"Down with the blacks!" responded Sloan.
Nothing more was said. A chain clanked inside, a bolt shot back, and the door creaked on its hinges as it swung open.
Webster was led through, and he and his conductor began to ascend a flight of stairs, so thickly carpeted that they emitted no sound from the footsteps upon them.
At the head of the stairs they were again accosted:
"Halt! Who comes there?"
"Long live Jeff Davis," muttered Sloan.
Passing on through another door, they found themselves in a small, square apartment, although, so far as Webster was concerned, there was no ocular proof of this. There seemed to be several persons here, and a voice, that was evidently meant to be tragical and impressive, demanded:
"Whom have we here?"
"Most Noble Chief," said Sloan, humbly, "I have a friend in charge, who wishes to become a worthy member of this league."
"His name?"
"Timothy Webster."
"Have the objects of the league been fully explained to him?"
"They have."
The gruff-voiced speaker then said:
"Mr. Webster, is it your desire to become a member of this knightly band?"
"It is," responded the detective, firmly.
There was a sound as of a number of swords leaping from their scabbards, and the clank and ring of the steel as the blades seemed to meet above his head. Then the Grand Chief continued:
"You will now kneel upon one knee, and place your right hand upon your heart, while I administer to you the binding obligation of our brotherhood."
Webster did as he was directed, and in this attitude repeated the following oath, as it was dictated to him:
"I, Timothy Webster, citizen of Baltimore, having been informed of the objects of this association, and being in full accord with the cause which it seeks to advance, do solemnly declare and affirm, upon my sacred honor, that I will keep forever secret all that I may see or hear, in consequence of being a memberof this league; that I will implicitly obey all orders, and faithfully discharge all duties assigned to me, no matter of what nature or character they may be; and that life or death will be held subordinate to the success and advancement of the cause of the Confederacy and the defeat of the bloody tyrants who are striving to rule by oppression and terrorism. Should I fail in the proper performance of any task imposed upon me, or should I prove unfaithful to the obligations I have here assumed, may I suffer the severest penalty for treason and cowardice, as well as the odium and contempt of my brother knights."
The swords clanked again as they were returned to their scabbards, and the new-made member, having taken the oath, was commanded to rise. He did so in silence, and the bandage was removed from his eyes.
At first the light of the room almost blinded him, but his eyes soon became accustomed to the change, and he looked about him with some curiosity. He found that he was in the presence of seven stalwart men, besides Sloan, all of whom wore swords at their sides, dark cloaks drooping from their shoulders, and black masks upon their faces. The masks, however, were now removed, and Webster discovered, to his relief, that they were all familiar to him.
"Mr. Webster," said the Chief, dropping his tragic tone of voice, "without further ceremony, I pronounce you a Knight of Liberty. I greet you heartily;"and then, extending his hand—"Come with me."
As they emerged into the main council-chamber, Webster quietly examined his surroundings. It was a spacious apartment, very plain in its appointments, with a low ceiling and bare walls, and furnished with chairs arranged in rows around the room. At the head of the hall was a low platform on which were tables and chairs. Behind these, on the wall, were suspended two Confederate flags, artistically draped, above which were the initials "K. of L." Some forty men were already assembled, and others were quietly dropping in at intervals. Webster noticed that all these men were from the better class of citizen secessionists, and that the low, rowdy element was not represented. They were mostly men who had not thus far been suspected of disloyalty to the Union cause.
The Grand Chief and other officers now took their positions on the platform, and Webster was assigned to a seat where he could observe all that was said or done.
Presently a clock in the room struck twelve. Instantly all the doors opening into the chamber were securely locked, and the secret conclave was in session. The Grand Chief rose and opened the meeting in regular form; and again, after the secretary had read the journal, made an address of some length. At the conclusion of his remarks, some one arose and said:
"Most Worthy Chief, I believe we can now claim Mr. Webster as a member of this body. I understand that he has just returned from an interesting and somewhat dangerous mission, and I now move that he be invited to address this meeting relative to his experiences during the journey he has just completed."
Webster, taken by surprise, undertook to combat the proposition, but the motion was unanimously concurred in, and no excuses were accepted. He therefore yielded good-naturedly, and mounting the platform, he proceeded to relate some of the particulars of his trip to the Potomac. He made the recital as entertaining and agreeable as possible, and although his statements did not always possess the merit of being strictly true, they were such as could not fail to meet the approval of his hearers, and were therefore received with great favor. Concluding with a well-timed panegyric on the "faithful" of Baltimore, he resumed his seat amid the congratulations of his many admiring friends.
After this, the regular business of the meeting was taken up, in which Webster took no other part than that of a close listener and observer. Motions were made, resolutions were adopted, and various duties assigned to volunteer committees. The proceedings grew more and more interesting to the detective as they progressed, and it was not long before he began to feel considerable surprise, if notalarm, at the unexpected revelations which were made. It became evident to him that these conspirators had by some means succeeded in placing themselves in direct communication with the Confederate leaders, and that a gigantic plot was now in preparation to make a united and irresistible movement against Washington. Nearly ten thousand Baltimoreans, it was alleged, were prepared to rise in arms at a moment's notice, and join the rebel army, whenever such a movement might seem feasible. It appeared, also, that the Baltimoreans were not alone in this plot against the government, but that branches of their organization existed in a number of the outlying towns, and that the secessionists of the entire State were working harmoniously together for the accomplishment of one great purpose. There was no lack of arms, for these had already been secured, but their place of concealment was known only to a few and they were not to be brought to light until they should be needed.
The main portion of the plot seemed to be well matured, and was most perfect in its details. The arrival of the rebel army in Maryland was expected in a very short time, as they had the promises of the Southern commanders themselves that they would soon cross the Potomac. Their coming was to be the signal for a simultaneous uprising of all the secessionists in the Western and Southern portions of the State, who were to unite in a movement thatcould scarcely fail to carry everything before it. There were also deep-laid schemes by which the Federals were to be kept in ignorance of the real designs of the Confederates, until too late to avert the blow.
The extent of the conspiracy rather startled Webster, although some of the projects sounded rather visionary, and he made up his mind to consult with me at once. Accordingly, the very next day, he proceeded to Washington, and was closeted with me for several hours. As soon as he had explained the situation, I devised a plan of procedure, and gave him full instructions as to the manner in which he should proceed. The great object, of course, was to break up the organization, and defeat the conspiracy in a manner that would not compromise Webster; but it was not deemed prudent to go about this with any inordinate haste.
I advised Webster to continue attending the meetings, in the character of an active conspirator; to learn all he could, and report to me as often as possible. In the meantime, I would send him two other operatives, and he was to secure their admission into the secret society, as members thereof. In a week or two the final act in the little drama would be introduced by first making a confidant of Mr. McPhail, the deputy Provost-Marshal of Baltimore, and then confronting the conspirators with a company of armed soldiers.
Webster returned to Baltimore with a clear understanding of the course he was to pursue, and he followed that course with the untiring zeal with which he performed every duty assigned to him. He attended the midnight meetings regularly, and gained much information concerning the plans and movements of the Southern commanders, which proved of incalculable value to the government. The two operatives soon contrived to join the society, not through Webster's recommendation, as that was to be avoided, if possible, but by making the acquaintances of men whom he pointed out to them, and representing themselves as secessionists who were capable of keeping their own counsel.
This done, the rest was comparatively easy. By the rules of the society, no one could enter the secret chamber of the conspirators without passing two guards, and giving sundry pass-words. These guards were appointed by the Chief from those who volunteered for the positions. At stated periods, new pass-words were arranged, by which every man was required to answer the questions of the guards, and any one who failed to commit these to memory sufficiently to satisfy these sentinels that he was a member of the society, found himself barred out of the meeting.
Our plan worked to perfection. There came a night when my two operatives were on duty, as guards, they having volunteered their services at the last preceding meeting. This was the night setapart for the surprise. It had been announced that Webster would speak that night, and it had been arranged with the guards, that a certain part in his speech should be taken as the signal for the grand finale that had been decided upon.
The hour of midnight approached. The old building in which the secret conclaves were held was shrouded in silence and darkness. At intervals one or more dark figures might have been seen to enter the covered archway leading thereto, and pass through the gate into the narrow court. Then, one at a time, they approached a certain door, and after a signal rap, and a low, muttered conversation with the guards, they passed in and ascended the dimly-lighted stairs. Another brief dialogue with the inside guard, and they entered the council-chamber, where they dropped their mysterious manner, and were ready to answer to their names at the calling of the roll.
The clock struck twelve. The sound rang through the apartment in solemn, measured tones, and as the twelfth stroke was still vibrating in the air, all the doors, even those communicating with the ante-rooms, were promptly locked, no one being admitted after that hour.
The meeting was opened after the regular form, and the business disposed of without interruption. When the time which was set apart for addresses arrived, Webster was called upon for his speech. He ascended the platform with a serious expression onhis face, and after thanking his fellow-knights for the honor conferred upon him, he launched forth into a stirring address, the treasonable nature of which was calculated to fire the Southern blood of his hearers, and to add much to his own popularity. As the speaker appeared to warm up with his subject he lifted his voice and exclaimed:
"The dissolution of the Union is one of the inevitable necessities of Lincoln's election, and it will be our mission to strike directly at the heart of the abolition party, and bury its foul carcass beneath the smoking ruins of Washington city!"
This was the signal. The words had no sooner passed the lips of the speaker, than a startling noise, like that of a battering-ram being applied to one of the ante-room doors, cut short the speech, and caused every man present to spring to his feet in astonishment and alarm. Bang! bang! bang! sounded the heavy blows. The door burst open with a crash, and a stream of blue-coated soldiers, all fully armed, came pouring into the council-chamber, and quickly deployed around three sides of the room, effectually cutting off the retreat of the inmates before they could make a movement.
"The door burst open and a stream of blue coated soldiers came pouring in." P 298"The door burst open and a stream of blue coated soldiers came pouring in." P 298
The sudden and unexpected appearance of these intruders had a paralyzing effect upon the conspirators. Had so many ghosts confronted them they could not have been more surprised. Horrified consternation was depicted on every blanched face; startled eyes looked wildly around for some avenue of escape, and exclamations of terror or baffled rage broke from many white lips. Some of the most desperate seemed for a moment to entertain thoughts of breaking through the line of soldiers and reaching the door, but no such mad attempt was made. McPhail stepped forward with a revolver in each hand, and in a low, thrilling voice, said:
"Gentlemen, you are our prisoners. I advise you to give in gracefully. We are too many for you."
His advice did not go unheeded. They surrendered as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, and resigned themselves to the custody of their armed foes. The chamber in which they had maliciously plotted the overthrow of the government became the scene of their own downfall, and it was with dejected countenances that they submitted to the inevitable, and permitted themselves to be marched in a body before the Provost-Marshal. It was not observed, however, until they were being removed, that Timothy Webster had somehow contrived to make good his escape.
The leading spirits of this conspiracy—those who did the actual plotting, and who were known to be the arch traitors and prime movers in the secret enterprise—were taken to Fort McHenry. The rest, after taking the oath of allegiance, were released.
My two operatives disappeared from Baltimore immediately after this occurrence, as well they might,for of course the suspicion of the defeated conspirators fastened upon them at once. As they did not show themselves in that city again, however, they never were made the victims of the terrible vengeance which some of their late associates swore to bring down upon their luckless heads at the first opportunity. As for Webster, instead of being suspected of any complicity in the betrayal, he was congratulated upon his fortunate and remarkable escape from the fate which befell his unfortunate brother knights.
With the defeat of the "Knights of Liberty" in Baltimore, ended the existence of the branch lodges all over the State. The organization, which had so carefully planned the destruction of the Union at a single blow, was completely broken up. The conspirators, taking warning by the fate of their leaders, became mute and inactive, and although skilled detectives were sent to all outlying towns, no new signs of an uprising were discovered.
Aside from the operations of Timothy Webster and his assistants in Baltimore, there was work enough to do in Washington to keep myself and all the members of my large force constantly employed. Innumerable persons, suspected of treasonable designs, were closely shadowed; whole families became objects of distrust, and fell under the watchful eye of my department; while the ungracious task of searching the homes of people who stood upon the highest round of the social ladder became of frequent occurrence.
Among the latter class were the wife and family of ex-Governor Morton, of Florida, who at this time were sojourning in Washington. Mrs. Morton was known to be in sympathy with the South, and the unceasing vigilance of my men soon developed the fact that she was in secret communication with certain officials of the rebel government, to whom she was giving information concerning affairs at the North. She was a lady of eminent respectability andrefinement, and much esteemed by all who knew her, but this did not render it less advisable, under the circumstances, to have all her movements watched, and her house constantly shadowed by detectives. Her pleasant residence at No. 288 "I" street, was therefore placed under strict surveillance, and its inmates followed whenever they went out for a walk or drive, while all visitors at the house were invariably shadowed when they went away.
There was an old negro servant, known as Uncle Gallus, who went to and from the house oftener than any one else, on errands for the family. Finally one of my operatives drew the old fellow into conversation, and found him so cheerful and communicative, and so firm in his loyalty to the Northern cause, that when the fact was reported to me, I concluded to talk with Uncle Gallus myself. Accordingly, I gave orders to have him brought to my office, if it could be done without opposition on his part. The friendship I bore for the colored race, and my long experience as an underground railroad conductor, had given me such an insight into the character of the negro, that I believed I could gain his confidence and good-will if I should meet him.
Uncle Gallus came to my office quite willingly. He was a powerfully-built darky, though evidently well advanced in years, as attested by the bleached appearance of his wool and eyebrows. His skin was as black and shone as bright as polished ebony, andit took but little provocation to set him on a broad grin, which displayed two unbroken rows of glistening ivory.
This interesting specimen appeared before me one afternoon, when Timothy Webster was with me in my office. We had just finished a discussion concerning some delicate point in Webster's Baltimore operations, and had lapsed into a desultory conversation. My sable visitor stood bowing and scraping, and turning his hat round and round in his hands, till I bid him be seated.
"Your name is Gallus?" I said.
"Yes, sah," he replied, his mouth stretched from ear to ear. "Folks done got so dey call meuncleGallus nowadays."
"You have been a slave all your life, I understand?"
"Yes, massa, eber sence I war knee-high to a hopper-grass. I'se done a mighty sight o' wu'k, too, 'kase I wus allus as big an stout as a sixty-dollah bull, an' I could stan' mo' hard-fisted labor dan any o' de udder niggahs on de plantation. But sence I been wid Massa Morton I ain't had nuffin' to do skursely, an' it seems as ef I'se gwine to git pow'ful lazy fur de want o' wu'k. H'yah! H'yah!"
"What is your native State, Uncle Gallus?"
"Ole Virginny, sah."
He held his head a little higher, and sat a trifle more erect as he said this, showing that inordinatepride in his State which I had so often noticed in other Virginia slaves, as well as in Virginia masters.
I asked him if the Mortons had offered him his freedom since the breaking out of the war. He shook his head and gravely replied:
"Dey hain't been nuffin' said to dis pusson on dat 'ar subjick, but I knows dey'd gimme my freedom in less'n twenty-fo' hours ef I done ax 'em fur it."
"Then you don't want to be free?"
"Oh, yes, I does, massa; yes, I does, fur sho'. But Massa Linkum an' de Yankee boys am gwine ter fetch dat aroun' all right by'm-bye. Bress your soul an' body, I can't b'ar fur to run away from missus an' ole massa, 'kase dey's been so good an' kyind to me; an' I'se done tuk an oath dat I won't leave 'em till dey gimme leaf. When missus goes back down Souf I'se gwine ter go wid her, ef she don't tole me to stay heah. It won't be long, nohow, 'kase de time am soon comin' when de darkies will all be free."
"Your mistress intends to return to the South, then?"
"Yes, sah; we'll soon be off now, ef de good Lo'd will let us. Massa, he's in Richmond, an' he hab done sent fur de family."
"Is Mrs. Morton in communication with her husband?"
"Spec' she is, sah. She writes letters, an'gitsletters. She has ter be sorter keerful like, for dese'yah Yankees is got eyes like a cat, an' kin see fru a stun wall in de dark."
"Do you know whether your mistress writes to any one besides her husband?"
Uncle Gallus leaned back in his chair, and looked at me somewhat suspiciously, the whites of his eyes shining like polished china.
"'Deed, sah, I doesn't know whedder she dusdo, or whedder she doant," he said, hesitatingly. "Please, massa, doant ax dis chile any mo' questions. My missus is de bes' woman in de wu'ld, and nebber didn't do nuffin' wrong in all her bawn days. Ole Gallus wouldn't say nuffin' to bring trubble on her for fifteen cents," he added, earnestly.
I quieted the fears of the faithful old man by assuring him that I meant no harm to his mistress, and that I had no doubt she was the good lady he represented her to be. Satisfied with the result of my investigations, I permitted Uncle Gallus to depart, first charging him, however, to say nothing to any one concerning my interview with him. He promised secrecy, and bowed himself out with all his teeth visible, saying, as he went:
"Fo' de Lawd, gemmen, I'se hopin an' prayin' de No'thun folks will be de top dog in dis wrastle, an' ef eber dis niggah hes a chance to gib yu'uns a helpin' han', yu' kin bet a hoss agin' a coon-skin he'll do it; but I hope an' trus' my missus not be boddered."
Nevertheless, I had learned enough to bring me to the decision, that Mrs. Morton's house must be searched, and under orders of the Secretary of War, I sent three of my men to No. 288 "I" street, to perform this unpleasant task. The operatives chosen to make the search were W. H. Scott, John Scully, and Pryce Lewis. Mrs. Morton received them very civilly, and told them they were at liberty to make a thorough search of the premises, which they immediately proceeded to do. They had instructions to read all letters that were found, but to keep only those that were of a treasonable nature, and in no case to destroy any property or leave anything in a disordered condition. These instructions were obeyed to the letter. Boxes that were packed ready for shipment were all carefully repacked and closed after they had been examined by my men, and when the operatives departed, they left no traces of their search behind them. Their polite and considerate conduct won for them the good will, not only of Mrs. Morton herself, but also of her daughter and two sons, who expressed themselves as being agreeably surprised, for they had been informed that the men from the Provost-Marshal's office were a set of ruffians, who did not scruple to break up boxes, and litter the house with their contents, and that their conduct towards ladies was insulting in the extreme. They even went so far as to assure the operatives, that if any of them should ever be taken prisoner andbrought to Richmond, they would do all in their power to secure kind treatment for them.
Among the letters that were found, two of them were from ex-Governor Morton, to his son and daughter, requesting them to come to him at Richmond; but nothing of a criminating character was discovered, and the family were not subjected to further annoyance.
Some two weeks afterwards, when John Scully boarded a train for Baltimore, whither I had sent him with a message to Webster, he chanced to meet Mrs. Morton and family in the car which he entered. They were departing from Washington, having been required to leave the North, by the authorities, who furnished them a safe passport to Richmond, and they were accompanied by the faithful Uncle Gallus. They recognized Scully, and greeted him with cordial courtesy, the eldest son rising in his seat to shake hands with him. They told him that on arriving at Baltimore, they were to take a flag-of-truce boat to Fortress Monroe, from which point they would continue their journey to Richmond. Scully as a matter of policy, gave them distinctly to understand that he had quitted the government service and was returning to his home in the North.
This little experience with the Morton family was trifling enough in itself, and was only one of many similar episodes with which I and my force were connected during those troublous times; but I have beenthus particular in detailing it because it has an important bearing upon other events which afterwards occurred.
It was about a month after the incident above mentioned, that Timothy Webster completed his preparations for making his first trip into Virginia and through the rebel lines. A large number of Baltimoreans had intrusted him with letters to their friends and relatives in the South, and he had assured them that their messages would be delivered safely and answers brought back in due time.
He left Baltimore on the 14th of October, and proceeded southward along the "Eastern Shore" of Virginia, seeking a convenient place to cross over to the mainland or "Western Shore." He arrived at Eastville, the county seat of Northampton county, on Tuesday, October 22d, where he found that he could effect a crossing with the assistance of a man named Marshall, who made a business of smuggling passengers and mails through the lines. He was compelled, however, to remain at Eastville several days, waiting for Marshall and his boat to come over from the other side, his trips being delayed on account of the bright moonlight nights, as the boatman did not dare to run the gantlet of the Federal guns, unless covered by darkness.
Some two or three months before, this man, Marshall, had owned a sloop, which he had used successfully in running the Federal blockade. One night hewas caught in a calm near the western shore, and was run-down by a gunboat. His sloop was captured, and he narrowly escaped capture by deserting his vessel and reaching the shore in a smaller boat. Since that time Marshall had been pursuing his vocation with a sort of canoe, or "dugout," thirty-one feet in length and five feet in width, carrying three sails—main, fore and jib. His route was from Gloucester Point, York river, to Eastville, and his business was to transfer from one side of the bay to the other the Confederate mail and passengers, and sometimes a small cargo of merchandise. Marshall being an expert pilot and a thorough seaman, was frequently employed by the masters of sloops and schooners to pilot them past certain points, they giving him the privilege of putting his passengers and mail-bags aboard the vessel without charge. It was his invariable custom to place a stone or other heavy substance in his mail-bag before starting, for the purpose of sinking it in case of being pressed by the gunboats.
It was on a dark evening that Webster left Cherrystone Lighthouse in Marshall's canoe, to make the voyage across the Chesapeake. There were thirteen passengers, all told. Eight of these were Marylanders, mostly from Baltimore, every one of whom announced his intention of enlisting in the Confederate army or navy upon his arrival at Richmond.
On starting, Marshall rowed off a short distance from the light-house, and rested on his oars for sometime, taking observations to ascertain if the bay was clear of hostile craft. The night was scarcely dark enough for safety; the clouds were thin and scattered, and the stars were peeping through the dark, ragged curtain overhead. The wind was blowing strongly from the east, and the water was exceedingly rough.
Resolving, however, to make the effort, Marshall hoisted his sails, and as they rapidly filled, the little vessel sprung forward like a thing of life. It fairly skimmed over the waves, its sharp prow cutting the water and dashing up clouds of spray that caused the men to turn up their coat-collars and pull their hats down closer upon their heads. All conversation was forbidden, lest their voices should betray them to the enemy. With sealed lips and motionless forms, they might have been so many dark phantoms speeding before the wind on some supernatural mission.
Webster, by his own wish, had been put upon the look-out by the captain of the boat, and he keenly watched for signs of danger. When they had traveled nearly half the distance across the bay, he spied a point of light to leeward, and at once called Marshall's attention to it.
"It is a gunboat with a light on her bows," said the latter. "Let her come. She can't catch us, for with oar present headway we are not to be overhauled by any boat on this water."
The canoe was headed due west for about fourteen miles, then south-west by west for ten or twelvemiles, then due west again to Gloucester Point. The entire run was made in three and a half hours, the sailing distance being about thirty miles.
On nearing Gloucester Point, they were hailed by a sentinel, with the usual challenge:
"Who comes there?"
The blockade-runner sent back the answer:
"Marshall—mail boat!"
"Stand, Marshall, and give the countersign!"
"No countersign," was the reply.
The sentinel then called out:
"Sergeant of the Guard, Post No. 1!"
And another voice, further away, cried:
"Who's there?"
"Marshall, with mail boat and passengers."
"Sentinel, let them pass."
A few minutes later the passengers disembarked, and found themselves in a rebel camp.
Webster, with others, went to Marshall's shanty—a rude, wooden structure, which that worthy had built on the Point for the accommodation of his passengers—and there the remainder of the night was spent in the refreshing companionship of Morpheus.
On the following morning Webster was up and astir at an early hour. He ascertained that the encampment at Gloucester Point consisted of two regiments of infantry, two companies of cavalry, and one field battery of six guns, all under the command of Col. Charles H. Crump. The entrenchments comprisedan area of about fifteen acres, and the main breastwork on the beach consisted of a heavy earth-bank, walled on the inside with split pine logs set up on end. About the center of this breastwork was a sixty-four-pound gun, mounted on a high carriage, which traversed in a circle commanding a sweep of the whole land side of the entrenchments, where there was a clean field of about seven hundred acres bounded by timber on the north and York river on the south.
General Magruder had command of this division of the army, including the forces at Gloucester Point, Yorktown and all the peninsula bounded by the James and York rivers, extending down to Fortress Monroe. The division embraced thirty-three regiments of infantry and cavalry.
Webster called at Colonel Crump's headquarters and obtained from that officer a pass to Richmond, not only for himself, but for several others who had crossed the bay with him. At about the hour of noon on Saturday, the 26th, the party were ferried across the river to Yorktown, in a small boat. The landing at Yorktown was in front of a hill which rose with a gentle slope some twenty-five feet above the beach, on the top of which, in front of the town, was an earthwork mounting six or eight guns.
From this point the party proceeded in a south-westerly direction, across the peninsula, to Grove Wharf, on James river. The distance was about tenmiles, and was accomplished without difficulty or delay. On their arrival at Grove Wharf, however, they were disappointed to learn that no boat was to leave there for Richmond until the following Monday. There was no help for it, and with a rueful attempt at resignation, they took quarters at a neighboring farm-house, where they waited and rested.