On Monday morning Webster left Grove Wharf, on the regular steam packet, for Richmond, where he arrived on the evening of the same day. Here he separated from his companions and made his way alone to the Spotswood Hotel, where he registered, and proceeded to make himself at home. He was now in the rebel capital, surrounded on all sides by the enemies of his country, with no friends to whom he could apply in case of danger, and burdened with a mission, upon the successful performance of which his life depended. It was a mission, too, requiring such delicate and skillful labor, that a man less iron-nerved would have trembled at the very contemplation of it; but Webster, whose courage and self-command never deserted him in the most trying moments of his life, coolly reviewed the situation and laid his plans in a systematic manner for future operations.
The next day, he busied himself about the city, delivering his letters, forming acquaintances, andpaving the way for an interview with the Secretary of War, his object being to obtain from that high official, if possible, a pass to Manassas and Winchester. He was informed by General Jones, Post-Adjutant to General Winder, the Provost-Marshal at Richmond, and commander of the forces there, that no interview could be obtained with the Secretary of War, except upon business especially connected with the military department, as they were daily expecting an attack from the Federal Army of the Potomac, and the Secretary was wholly engaged with officers of the army.
Among the acquaintances which Webster formed, was a young man by the name of William Campbell, originally a Baltimorean, to whom he brought a letter of introduction from the father of the young man. Campbell treated my operative with the utmost friendliness and courtesy, and invited him to a drive during the afternoon. The invitation was accepted, and as the weather was all that could be desired, they enjoyed a very pleasant afternoon. They visited the environs for the purpose of viewing the defenses, and Webster noted the fact that there were seventeen very superior earthwork batteries around the town, forming a rude semicircle with either end resting on the James river. The entrenchments around each of these batteries were from twelve to fourteen feet wide at the top, and about ten feet deep. Some of the batteries were designed for six guns andsome for sixteen. They were nearly all completed at this time, and the work upon them had been done exclusively by negro slaves. In most cases they were mounted with their full complement of guns, varying in caliber, from thirty-two to sixty-four pounds. The land around Richmond consists of hills and valleys, and the batteries were planted on the most elevated and commanding points. The heaviest of these commanded the turnpikes and railroads which formed the approaches from Manassas and Fredericksburg.
After visiting the batteries, Webster went with Campbell to the ordnance department, where he was introduced to several persons who had charge of the ordnance stores, and from whom he elicited much valuable information. Among other things, he was informed by the Colonel in charge, that the "Bermuda," an English vessel which had recently run the blockade, had brought over for the Confederate government twelve thousand Enfield rifles, a large supply of cavalry swords and a number of rifled cannon; and that, upon trial, the rifled cannon were found to be more accurate than any of their brass pieces.
On the following day Webster concluded to make another inspection of the earthworks around the city. He went alone and on foot this time, as he desired to make some notes and calculations, which he was unable to do in the presence of others without running an unnecessary risk. It was a fine, brisk morning,the air was slightly tinged with the coolness of approaching winter, and the spy occupied the entire forenoon in strolling leisurely from point to point, apparently with the single object of idling away a few leisure hours. Now he passed some men engaged in planting a cannon on one of the redoubts, and again he saw a group of slaves busily at work with pickaxes and shovels, but no one seemed to pay any attention to him.
About noon he came upon a scene, which, though characteristic of the time and place, was rather a novel sight to a Northern man, and he stopped to view it with considerable interest. In a sunny spot near the river bank about a dozen negro laborers were gathered, their surroundings showing that they had just left off work for the enjoyment of their allotted hour of rest, at noon. Having finished their mid-day repast, they were now filling their time by indulging in a species of amusement peculiar to their race. On a pine log sat a jolly-looking old negro, whose hair was white as snow and whose face was black as ebony, grinning, and rolling his head from side to side, while he patted "Juba" with great energy and skill, on his knees, chest and head. The other darkies were dancing to the "music," and apparently enjoying the sport to an unlimited degree.
The detective was amused at the spectacle, but this feeling gave way to one of surprise and curiosity, as he looked more intently at the white-haired oldman who was acting asmusician. There was something strikingly familiar in those black, smiling features. Surely this was not the first time he had seen that face, or witnessed that tremendous grin. Where had he met this darky before?
Suddenly his recollection was quickened. The person in question was none other than Uncle Gallus, the servant of ex-Governor Morton, whom he had seen in my office at Washington, on the day that I had questioned him about his mistress. This fact was clear enough to Webster, but somewhat surprising, withal. He remembered that Uncle Gallus had, on that occasion, represented the Mortons as very indulgent slave-owners, who never permitted him to perform any hard labor; yet here he was, in the role of a common workman, employed upon the fortifications around Richmond.
Whatever had caused this change, however, it did not appear to weigh heavily upon the old darky, for at this moment he was in the very ecstasy of delight, as he patted inspiration into the nimble feet of his companions. The other darkies danced until their faces shone with perspiration, and the manner in which their loose-jointed limbs swung and wriggled, suggested the idea that those members were hung on pivots. They leaped and vaulted, and flung their heels in the airs, as if they were so many jumping-jacks and Uncle Gallus was pulling the string.
The latter hummed snatches of plantation melodiesas he warmed up to his work, and finally he sung a series of characteristic verses, of which the following are a sample:
"Did you ebber see a woodchuck lookin' at a coon-fight?Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;Did you ebber see a niggah gal dancin' in de moonlight?Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!"Possum up a gum-stump, chawin' slippery-ellum,Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;Nigga's in de market an' massa tryin' to sell 'em—Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!"Secesh in Richmon'—de Yankee boys has treed 'em—Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;All de little pickaninnies gwine to git dar freedom—Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!"
"Did you ebber see a woodchuck lookin' at a coon-fight?Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;Did you ebber see a niggah gal dancin' in de moonlight?Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!
"Possum up a gum-stump, chawin' slippery-ellum,Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;Nigga's in de market an' massa tryin' to sell 'em—Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!
"Secesh in Richmon'—de Yankee boys has treed 'em—Linkum am a-comin' by'm-bye;All de little pickaninnies gwine to git dar freedom—Glory, glory, glory hallelujerum!"
Suddenly the merriment of the blacks was interrupted in a most unexpected manner.
Some tall bushes that covered the top of a slight elevation near by were suddenly parted, and a man, wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant in the Confederate army, leaped down among the astonished revelers. In a towering rage, he turned upon Uncle Gallus and shouted:
"Shut your head, you d——d old villain, or I'll fill your black hide with lead!" and he flourished a cocked revolver in the face of the terrified negro.
"Afo' God, Massa, we didn't mean no harm, we's jes passin' away de time," said Uncle Gallus, in a frightened voice.
"Well, then," said the officer, with an oath, "be a little more careful in the future about the kind of songs you sing, or I'll have every d——d one of you bucked and gagged, and whipped within an inch of your lives."
Replacing his weapon, and turning on his heel, he was striding angrily away when he came face to face with Webster.
The recognition was mutual and instantaneous between the two men. As quick as a flash Webster had his revolver cocked and pointed at the head of the blustering Confederate.
"Bill Zigler, what are you doing here? You move at your peril."
"I'd kill you, curse you, but you've got the drop on me now, as you had once before. But my time will come, you d——d Yankee spy!"
"Look here, Bill!" said Webster, anxious, if possible, to disarm at once and forever the suspicions of his enemy, "what is the use of our being continually at daggers' points? You were foolish enough to insult me in Baltimore by impeaching my loyalty to the South, and I resented it, as any man would. If you repeat the vile slander, I'll do the same thing. If, however, you have anything personal against me, and must fight, I'll put up my weapon and meet you hand to hand."
Zigler looked at the speaker a moment, and then advancing and extending his hand, said:
"Webster, put up your pistol; I guess I've made a d——d fool of myself. I did think you were a spy, but I knock under; I don't want to be an enemy to such a friend to the cause as I now believe you to be."
Lowering his revolver, Webster good-naturedly received the friendly overtures of his former foe.
"I thought you would come to your senses at last; but when did you come down here?"
"Oh, I've been here several weeks. I enlisted in Baltimore and came down as a lieutenant," answered Zigler. "But where are you from?" he continued, "and what is the news from the Monumental City?"
"I am just from that city," replied Webster, "and have brought a number of letters for parties here and at Manassas. I expect to go to the Junction to-morrow, if I succeed in getting a pass."
"Who do you want to see there?"
"Well, I want to see John Bowen," replied Webster, naming a particular friend of Zigler's, whom he knew was at Manassas. "I understand he is down with typhoid fever, and will no doubt be glad to hear from home."
This straightforward story completely disarmed the suspicions of the bully as to Webster's true character, and finding that he had time to spare he invited the scout to his quarters.
Thus the quarrel was settled between these twomen, and the superior tact and coolness of Webster had succeeded in making a friend of a man who might have seriously interfered with his operations, and probably have jeopardized his life.
As they were leaving the place, Webster cast a look at the group of negroes, whose mirth had been so suddenly interrupted, and he noticed that they were regarding the Lieutenant with looks of sullen anger. He was, however, considerably relieved to find that Uncle Gallus had not recognized him, and that as far as the aged negro was concerned, he had nothing to fear. He accompanied Zigler to his quarters, where they chatted pleasantly for an hour, after which Webster returned to his hotel, a much wiser man than when he first started out upon his walk.
As he sauntered quietly back to the city, he felt quite elated at the success of his management of Zigler, whom he had made a fast friend. After supper, in company with Mr. Campbell, he strolled about the city for a short time, when his companion excused himself, and Webster pursued his way alone. He was walking along Utah street, apparently deeply absorbed in his own meditations, when he heard a voice behind him.
"Hole on dar, Massa!"
Turning around, he was surprised to see Uncle Gallus, approaching him as rapidly as his stiffened limbs would permit.
"Well, uncle," said Webster, as the old man caught up to him—"did you speak to me?"
"You'se de man dat I 'dressed, sah—done you know me?" said the old fellow, peering anxiously in the face of the detective.
"No, I don't remember you," said Webster, determined to ascertain whether the old darky did know him; "where have you ever seen me?"
"In Washington, sah," replied Uncle Gallus; "don' you remember you saw me at Majah Allen's, when I was dah libin wid Missus Morton?"
Webster looked at the negro a moment, and then, feeling assured of the friendliness of his interlocutor, he said:
"Your face does seem familiar to me; what is your name?"
"Dey calls me Uncle Gallus, sah," answered the old fellow.
"Oh, yes," said Webster, "now I remember you."
"Golly, massa," grinned Uncle Gallus, "wen I seed you gib it to Bill Zigler dis mo'nin', I dun knowed you right away, but I wouldn't say nuffin' for de world, fo' I knowed you was a pullin' de wool ober his eyes."
Knowing full well that he had nothing to fear from Uncle Gallus, he talked with him good-naturedly on various topics, and in the course of the conversation he learned that he was no longer with Mrs.Morton, having been disposed of by her, some time before, and that he was now being used by the Confederate government to work upon the fortifications. Not deeming it advisable to remain long in conversation with the old darky on the streets, he told him that he would see him in a day or two, and placing a coin in the old man's hand, he bade him good-night.
The next morning Mr. Campbell and Webster visited General Jones, and obtained the sought-for passes to Manassas, for which place he left early in the forenoon. On his arrival there, he learned that John Bowen, for whom he had a letter, had been taken to Richmond, but having several other messages to deliver to parties of prominence there, he busied himself during the day in forming acquaintances, and in acquiring knowledge. From Manassas he went to Centreville, where he remained a few days, and from thence to Warrington, and finally back again to Richmond, where he delivered his remaining letters. Here he formed the acquaintance of a man by the name of Price, who was engaged in running the blockade, and who was making arrangements to return to Baltimore, to purchase a fresh supply of goods. Together they went to the office of the Provost-Marshal, where they obtained the necessary passes to insure their safe journey through the rebel lines.
Leaving Richmond, they went to Fredericksburg, where he stayed long enough to visit all the places ofinterest around that city, and in company with Mr. Price they went on to Brooks Station, the headquarters of General Holmes, with whom Price was intimately acquainted. After remaining several days, he left his companion, making his way to Yorktown and Gloucester Point, and from thence to Washington, where he reported to me.
This first visit of Timothy Webster to Richmond was highly successful. Not only had he made many friends in that city, who would be of service to him on subsequent trips, but the information he derived was exceedingly valuable. He was able to report very correctly the number and strength of the fortifications around the rebel capital, to estimate the number of troops and their sources of supplies, and also the forts between that city and Manassas Junction. His notes of the topography of the country were of the greatest value, and he received the warmest thanks of the commanding general, for what he had thus far been able to accomplish.
After the return of Timothy Webster from Richmond and Manassas, I deemed it best that he should again visit Baltimore and mingle once more with his rebel friends in that city. Since the summary collapse of the Knights of Liberty the majority of them had been remarkably quiet, and no indications were apparent that they contemplated any further proceedings of a treasonable nature. It will be remembered that on the night that the secret meeting was disturbed, Webster managed in some unaccountable manner to escape, and that he had disappeared almost immediately afterwards. As no suspicion existed as yet of his having been concerned in the affair, and as his prolonged absence might give rise to doubts of his loyalty, I concluded that it was best for him to again show himself among his old associates, and account for his escape in a manner that would appear truthful and straightforward.
He accordingly took the train, and after arriving in Baltimore, he went directly to Miller's Hotel. Here he found several of his friends, and their greetingswere most cordial and hearty. In a few moments others of the party had been notified, and came thronging in to welcome him and to congratulate him upon his escape and present safety. Eager inquiries were made as to the manner in which he had so successfully eluded the soldiers, and how he had spent the time since the occurrence of that event. In reply Webster gave a satisfactory and highly interesting account of his movements, all of which was heartily enjoyed by his listening friends. Gratified beyond expression at the pleasant condition of affairs, he became quite jolly, and the balance of the evening was spent in convivial and social enjoyment.
On the following morning he started out in search of his old friend Sam Sloan, for whom he had a letter from his brother, who was in the rebel army, and stationed at Centreville. Having also a number of letters for other Baltimoreans, he desired to secure Sloan's services in their proper and safe delivery.
Sam looked in astonishment as Webster blandly approached him, and after an effusive greeting he remarked earnestly:
"Webster, you'll have to be mighty careful now, or you will be arrested yet. We are watched night and day—the least suspicious move we make is reported at once—and if repeated, the first thing the offender knows he finds himself in the guard-house."
"Well," replied Webster, laughingly, "I'll have to take my chances with the rest of you."
"I know your grit, Webster," said Sloan, "but by all means be careful. I was arrested myself since you went away."
"The deuce you were!" ejaculated Webster. "How did that occur?"
"Well, I went over to Washington to transact a little business, and while there I met some of the boys, and we had a little 'time.' I don't know what I did, but when I started to come home, the Provost-Marshal arrested me, and I had to take the oath of allegiance before I could get away."
"You don't tell me that you took the oath, Sam?"
"Yes, I did," laughed Sam. "I would take twenty oaths before I would be locked up;" and then he added: "I tell you, we are all spotted here in this city, and who is doing it we can't find out."
"What makes you think that?" inquired Webster, doubtfully.
"Many things. Why, only the other day I was taken before Lieutenant Watts, who has charge of the station-house, and the questions he put to me about the gang, convinced me that he knew a great deal more than was good for us."
"Did he ask anything about me?" queried Webster.
"No," replied Sam, "and if he had I wouldn't have told him anything, you may be sure."
"I can readily believe that," said the detective,"but if it is so dangerous here, how am I going to deliver these letters?"
"I can help you there," said Sloan, after a moment's consideration; "John Earl, Richardson and I will see that they are delivered, and that will keep you from incurring suspicion."
"That will do," said Webster, "and you can tell the people you see to write their answers at once, and inclose them in two envelopes, one directed to their friend, and the other to John Hart, at Miller's Hotel."
"I understand; but who is this John Hart you mention—can we trust him?"
"I think so," replied the detective, laughing heartily; "his other name is Timothy Webster."
"By Jove, Webster, you're a good one; I begin to think myself that there isn't so much danger of your getting caught after all."
This being satisfactorily arranged, the two men started in search of John Earl and Richardson, who both agreed to assist in the delivery of the letters which Webster had brought with him from the South. They all went to the room occupied by the detective at the hotel, and after a friendly drink, the letters were properly assorted, and each man was given his particular portion. They were instructed to request answers from those only in whose friendship they could implicitly rely, and to take in person any that were prepared at the time.
In the afternoon, Webster called on Mr. Campbell,the father of the young man who had accompanied him on his trip from Richmond to Manassas Junction. The old gentleman was rejoiced to hear from his son, and after a few minutes' conversation Webster discovered that he was quite as bitter a secessionist as any one he had met, although he was quite aged and not very active. He informed the detective that he had once made a very handsome horse-bit for General McClellan, and that he was now making one for General Johnston, which he would like Webster to take with him when he next went to Richmond, and deliver it to the General in person.
"Have everything ready," said the detective, "and I will see that it reaches its destination in safety."
Returning to the hotel, he went in to supper, and after a hearty repast seated himself in the reading-room to await the return of his mail-carriers. While carelessly glancing over the columns of a daily paper, he was approached by a gentleman, who stepped in front of him, exclaiming heartily: "Why, Mr. Webster, how do you do? I am glad to see you; when did you get back to Baltimore?"
Looking up hastily from his paper, Webster recognized the speaker as Mr. Price, the blockade runner whom he had met in Richmond, and with whom he had traveled some distance through the rebel country.
Their greeting was most cordial, and the return of John Earl and Sam Sloan found the two men engagedin animated conversation. From Price, Webster learned that a large amount of goods had been purchased by several wealthy gentlemen of Baltimore, who had adopted a very novel manner of transporting them into rebeldom, without danger from Federal pickets or gunboats. Their plan was to ship the goods upon a vessel bound for Europe and ostensibly the goods were intended for the same destination. In addition to this a small boat was purchased, which was to be taken in tow by the steamer. By an arrangement with the captain the vessel was to stand in as close as possible to the mouth of York river, when the small boat was to be brought alongside, then the goods were to be transferred to it, and the owners were to pull up the river to Yorktown, effect a safe landing, and the rest would be an easy task.
Webster complimented his companion on the shrewdness displayed in this suggestion, and that evening he wrote to me, conveying full particulars of the proposed blockade-running.
It is needless to say that this little plan, shrewd as it was, failed of execution. Men were at once placed upon the track of these merchants, and a more surprised coterie never existed than were these gentlemen, when their goods, carefully labeled for a foreign port, were seized by the government, and their conveyance to the South effectually stopped. An examination of the goods fully confirmed the correctness of Webster's information, and this venture, atleast, was a losing speculation to those who had engaged in it.
After Mr. Price had taken his departure, John Earl called Webster aside, and informed him that a gentleman desired to send a draft for a large amount of money to Richmond, and that he had insisted on placing it in the hands of John Hart himself.
"Do you know this man, and that he is all right?" asked Webster.
"No," replied Earl, "I know nothing about him except that he is vouched for by three parties who are true, and they say he is all right."
"I don't like this idea," said Webster, doubtfully; "I guess you had better tell this man that you will deliver it safely for him, and then you can hand it to me."
"I did suggest that, but he said his orders were to intrust it to no one but John Hart himself."
After considering for some time, Webster finally concluded to see the individual in person. He was satisfied that no harm could come to him if the man was a Federal detective, as, by application to the authorities or to me he could readily extricate himself from any difficulty, and if he was a rebel, he would incur no risk whatever.
"Very well," he said, after he had fully deliberated the question, "you can bring him to my room and then we will see what is to be done. Meanwhile I will take a short walk and smoke a cigar."
On his return he found John Earl awaiting him.
"The gentleman is up-stairs in my room," said Earl; "will you go up now and see him?"
Webster signified his willingness, and the two men ascended the stairs. As they entered the room the stranger arose to greet them, and Webster scrutinized him carefully. The result of his scrutiny was decidedly unsatisfactory. The new-comer was a tall, well-formed man, of about forty years of age. His hair was dark, and he wore long side-whiskers of the same color. In appearance he was what would be ordinarily considered a handsome man, but there was a look of quiet curiosity about the eyes, and a peculiar curl about the mouth, which struck Webster very unpleasantly, and caused him to instinctively regret having accorded him the interview which he desired.
"Mr. Hart," said the stranger, pleasantly, after they had been formally introduced to each other, "I have a letter here, inclosing a draft, which I am desirous of having safely delivered to my sister-in-law in Richmond. You will find the address upon the envelope inside. Can you attend to this?"
"I guess so," replied Webster. "I can try, at all events."
Webster could not overcome a feeling of unrest and suspicion, as he conversed with the man, and he felt considerably relieved when, after expressing his thanks, he took his departure.
The next morning Webster was astir early, and after partaking of a hearty breakfast, he thought he would pay another visit to Mr. Bowen. Leaving the hotel, he walked rapidly down the street in the direction of the old man's residence. He had not proceeded far when, on turning around, he noticed that his friend of the night before was walking upon the opposite side of the street, and but a short distance behind him. Finding that he was observed, the man crossed the street, and after bidding Webster a very cordial good-morning, said:
"Mr. Hart, as we are walking in the same direction, if you have no objection, we will walk together."
Webster assented, and for a short distance they journeyed along, indulging in a very constrained conversation. Webster felt assured that the man had been following him, and that his apparent friendliness was assumed. Desiring to rid himself of his unwelcome and uncomfortable companion, he was upon the point of expressing himself very forcibly, when he was startled by the stranger grasping him firmly by the arm, and ejaculating:
"John Hart, you are my prisoner!"
Had a thunderbolt fallen at his feet he could not have been more surprised, but recovering himself quickly, he wrenched himself from the grasp of the man.
"What do you mean, sir?" he asked.
"John Hart, you are my prisoner." P. 334."John Hart, you are my prisoner." P. 334.
"Just what I have said," replied the other, coolly; "there is no occasion for any controversy upon the question, and as you are directly in front of the station-house, resistance would be worse than useless."
The cool manner in which these words were spoken exasperated Webster beyond control, but he saw that there were two soldiers standing guard in the doorway, and he realized at once that any attempt at escape would be foolhardy in the extreme. He therefore submitted quietly, and suffered himself to be led into the building, where an officer was seated at a table, examining the reports of the previous day.
The recognition between the Lieutenant and Webster's captor appeared to be mutual, and, indeed, the presence of my operative did not seem to be an unlooked-for event.
"Lieutenant, this is Mr. Hart," said the stranger.
"All right," replied that officer, "we will take good care of him."
After a short consultation, held in a tone too low for Webster to hear, the stranger took his leave, and the officer turned to the detective:
"Come with me, sir; your case will be attended to in the course of the day."
"Lieutenant, I would like to speak to you a moment, now that we are alone," said Webster, desirous of ending the matter, and of enabling the Lieutenant to ascertain his true character.
"I have no time to talk with rebels," said the officer, shortly, and then calling to the turnkey, he directed him to place Webster in a cell.
Deeply resenting the treatment of the officer, but feeling that opposition would only aggravate his annoyance, Webster followed the man, internally vowing vengeance against the fellow who had instigated his arrest. He was anxious to express himself forcibly to the officer in charge, but he considered that he would probably do the same thing under the same circumstances. The Lieutenant believed him to be a rebel, and as such his treatment was harsh and impolite, and after debating the matter in his mind he came to the conclusion that he was not much to blame after all. He was desirous, however, of communicating with some one who could intercede for him, and by that means secure his release, and he resolved to make friends with his jailer as the best possible way of obtaining what he wanted.
Shortly after he had been incarcerated, he heard the voices of Sam Sloan and John Earl, who had been informed of his arrest and had come to see him. Their request was denied, however, and they expressed themselves in very loud tones against the injustice they were compelled to submit to. All to no avail, however, and they reluctantly took their leave. The turnkey coming along the corridor at this time, Webster called to him, and requested his attention for a few moments. The man was aboutsixty years of age, and had a very benignant countenance, which Webster argued was a good omen for the work of propitiation which he had in hand.
"Will you tell the Lieutenant that I would like to speak with him," asked Webster.
"It's no use," said the old man, with a shake of the head; "the Lieutenant says he won't have anything to say to you, until your case is reported to headquarters this evening."
"Well, then," smiled Webster, "I suppose I will have to wait his pleasure; but can't a fellow get a little whisky and cigar? I'll make it worth your while if you can help me in that particular."
The old man laughed, and said he would see what could be done, as Webster slipped a bill into his hand. He disappeared, and after about a half hour, he returned and slipped a small bundle through the grated door, admonishing Webster to be careful about exposing himself to the other prisoners within view.
"All right," said Webster, "you keep the change, old man, for your trouble."
In the afternoon another officer, accompanied by four men, came to his cell, and requested his appearance at the office. Here he was carefully searched, and upon his person were found some letters addressed to himself; a pass from Col. Cramp, and about seventy dollars in money. They were about to take these from him, when Webster inquired:
"Who was the man who arrested me this morning?"
"His name is McPhail, and he belongs to the secret service," was the reply.
At the mention of the name, Webster started in surprise. He had heard of him as connected with my force, and knew that everything would soon be all right.
"Well," said Webster, "will you be kind enough to send for Mr. McPhail, and ask him to telegraph to Major Allen, and inquire if Tim is all right?"
"What Major Allen is that?" asked the officer.
"Of the secret service," replied Webster. "McPhail will know all about him; and you will learn that I am no rebel, in a very short time."
"We will do what you request," said the officer, "and if you are all right, we will be glad to find it out."
Thanking the officer for his kindness, Webster was conducted back to his cell to await developments.
About ten o'clock that night, the officer again made his appearance.
"John Hart, come here."
Webster presented himself before the iron grating of his cell.
"Is your name John Hart?"
"No, sir, my name is Timothy Webster."
"Well, my orders are for a man named Hart, who is to be taken to Fort McHenry."
"Webster leaped from the wagon while it was in motion." P. 339."Webster leaped from the wagon while it was in motion." P. 339.
Something in the tone of the man's voice, and in the twinkle of his eye, told Webster that everything was understood, so he answered at once:
"Very well, I am the man!"
"Come with me, then."
They conducted him to the street, where he saw a covered wagon in waiting. They all got in and then in a loud voice the officer gave the order:
"Drive direct to Fort McHenry pier!"
After they had started, the officer explained to Webster that it had been arranged, in order to prevent suspicion, that he should be allowed to jump from the wagon as it was driven along, and after a pretended pursuit, he would make his escape to his rebel friends with whom he should remain quietly for a few days, and then return to Washington and report to me.
These directions he implicitly followed; and seizing a favorable opportunity, he leaped from the wagon and rapidly made his way in the direction of the city. Going directly to Sam Sloan's, he knocked loudly at the door. After a few minutes a window was raised and a voice inquired angrily:
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
"It is I—Webster—Sam, come down and open the door."
The window was shut, with an oath of joyful surprise, and in a twinkling, the door was opened, andSloan pulled Webster into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
"Great G—d, Webster, how did you manage to get away from the Yanks?"
"Let me get warm, and I'll tell you," replied Webster, with a laugh.
"Come up stairs," said Sloan heartily, "and we'll have something to drink."
After refreshing themselves, Webster related the manner of his escape, carefully concealing the action of the officer, and the fact that he had been peaceably permitted to leave the vehicle—and when he had concluded, Sloan's admiration was unbounded. Promising to secrete him until he could safely get away, they all went to bed, and slept soundly.
Early the next morning Sloan left the house, and after an absence of an hour or two returned, bringing with him several of Webster's trusty friends, among whom was John Earl, who was decidedly crestfallen at the thought of having been instrumental in leading Webster into such danger by introducing the strange man to him, without learning more about his character for loyalty to the cause. They were all overjoyed at his escape, and spent the afternoon in a jollification over his safe return. The newspapers contained full particulars of the affair, and when they were brought before him Webster could not restrain his laughter at their contents, as he read:
"ESCAPE OF A STATE PRISONER.[A]"It was rumored yesterday that the man Webster, who was arrested, stopping at the hotel of Messrs. McGee, upon the charge of being concerned in the regular transportation of letters between Baltimore and the seceded States, had succeeded in making his escape. It is learned upon the best authority that during a late hour of the night he was removed from the western police station and placed in a carriage under the charge of a special detective officer. The wagon was driven towards Fort McHenry, he having been previously ordered to that post, but while the vehicle was in motion, and when within a short distance of their destination, he gave a sudden bound from his seat, and before the officer could seize him, he was beyond his grasp. It is not known which direction he took, but he will scarcely be able to escape from the city. He is a citizen of Kentucky, but left there in the early part of April, and since that time has been residing in Baltimore."
"ESCAPE OF A STATE PRISONER.[A]
"It was rumored yesterday that the man Webster, who was arrested, stopping at the hotel of Messrs. McGee, upon the charge of being concerned in the regular transportation of letters between Baltimore and the seceded States, had succeeded in making his escape. It is learned upon the best authority that during a late hour of the night he was removed from the western police station and placed in a carriage under the charge of a special detective officer. The wagon was driven towards Fort McHenry, he having been previously ordered to that post, but while the vehicle was in motion, and when within a short distance of their destination, he gave a sudden bound from his seat, and before the officer could seize him, he was beyond his grasp. It is not known which direction he took, but he will scarcely be able to escape from the city. He is a citizen of Kentucky, but left there in the early part of April, and since that time has been residing in Baltimore."
In another paper he read:
[B]"We have learned from an entirely reliable source that Mr. Webster was arrested in endeavoring to procure replies to a number of letters which he had delivered from Marylanders now residing in Virginia to friends at home. A fact which, in view of the hazards of such an attempt, should content the unfortunate exiles from Maryland with the gratification of communication with their friends there and withoutthe reciprocal joy of hearing from the latter in return. We have reason to believe that Webster is beyond the reach of the Yankees."
[B]"We have learned from an entirely reliable source that Mr. Webster was arrested in endeavoring to procure replies to a number of letters which he had delivered from Marylanders now residing in Virginia to friends at home. A fact which, in view of the hazards of such an attempt, should content the unfortunate exiles from Maryland with the gratification of communication with their friends there and withoutthe reciprocal joy of hearing from the latter in return. We have reason to believe that Webster is beyond the reach of the Yankees."
Remaining with his friends until after midnight on the second day, he made his way to the train, and at 4.30 in the morning started for Washington, where he arrived about seven o'clock, and reported at my headquarters.
It may seem strange that Webster was arrested by one of my men, and that my intervention was necessary to effect his release, but a few words will serve as an explanation. McPhail, the operative who had caused Webster's arrest, had never seen that gentleman, and was entirely ignorant of his true character. Under such circumstances he very naturally was led to suspect him as a rebel spy, and to lay the trap for his capture. The delicate and important duties which had been assigned to Webster were such, that I deemed it advisable to inform but very few of my men of his immediate connection with me, hence the arrest, as far as McPhail was concerned, was abona fiderevelation of what he believed to be a dangerous crime. As it was, the arrest did no harm, but rather enabled Webster to cement more closely the bonds of friendship which existed between himself and those with whom he had previously associated.
FOOTNOTES:[A]The above is from theBaltimore Americanof November 22, 1861.[B]The above is taken from theGazetteof November 22, 1861.
[A]The above is from theBaltimore Americanof November 22, 1861.
[A]The above is from theBaltimore Americanof November 22, 1861.
[B]The above is taken from theGazetteof November 22, 1861.
[B]The above is taken from theGazetteof November 22, 1861.
On the first day of November, 1861, General McClellan was made the Commander-in-Chief of all the armies of the United States. Immediately on assuming this important position, the General turned his attention to the entire field of operations, regarding the Army of the Potomac as a branch, though the most important one, of the armies under his command.
Reliable information regarding the location and strength of the enemy was the most desirable thing to be obtained at present, and although Webster had been performing giant labor in this direction, his operations comprised but a minor portion of the work that devolved upon me. Numerous men of various callings and abilities were traveling through the South, gathering items of news wherever possible, and reporting the same as accurately and as rapidly as they were enabled to do so. So numerous were the methods which I employed in promoting thesuccessful operations of the secret service, that it is possible within the limits of the present volume to enumerate but very few of the many events which occurred. Among the many men thus employed, was a negro by the name of John Scobell, and the manner in which his duties were performed, was always a source of satisfaction to me and apparently of gratification to himself. From the commencement of the war, I had found the negroes of invaluable assistance, and I never hesitated to employ them when, after investigation, I found them to be intelligent and trustworthy.
As I have previously stated, all refugees, deserters and contrabands coming through our lines were turned over to me for a thorough examination and for such future disposition as I should recommend. John Scobell came to me in this manner. One morning I was seated in my quarters, preparing for the business of the day, when the officer of the guard announced the appearance of a number of contrabands. Ordering them to be brought in, the pumping process was commenced, and before noon many stray pieces of information had been gathered, which, by accumulation of evidence, were highly valuable. Among the number I had especially noticed the young man who had given his name as John Scobell. He had a manly and intelligent bearing, and his straightforward answers to the many questions propounded to him, at once impressed me very favorably.He informed me that he had formerly been a slave in the State of Mississippi, but had journeyed to Virginia with his master, whose name he bore. His master was a Scotchman, and but a few weeks before had given him and his wife their freedom. The young woman had obtained employment in Richmond, while he had made his way to the Union lines, where, encountering the Federal pickets, he had been brought to headquarters, and thence to me. He gave an intelligent account of his travels through the country, and appeared to be well informed as to the localities through which he passed, and of the roads and streams round about.
I immediately decided to attach him to my headquarters, with the view of eventually using him in the capacity of a scout, should he prove equal to the task. For two weeks I employed him in various capacities of minor importance, but those in which secrecy and loyalty were essential qualifications, and his performance of these duties was all that could be desired. At the end of that time I resolved to send him into the South, and test his ability for active duty. Calling him into my quarters, I gave him the necessary directions, and dispatched him, in company with Timothy Webster, on a trip to Virginia. Their line of travel was laid out through Centreville, Manassas, Dumfries, and the Upper and Lower Accoquan.
John Scobell I found was a remarkably gifted man for one of his race. He could read and write, andwas as full of music as the feathered songsters that warbled in the tropical groves of his own sunny home. In addition to what seemed an almost inexhaustible stock of negro plantation melodies he had also a charming variety of Scotch ballads, which he sang with a voice of remarkable power and sweetness. During the evenings his singing was the chief feature of the impromptu entertainments that were resorted to in order to while away the tedious hours before retiring, and he soon became a universal favorite. Possessing the talents which he did, I felt sure, that he had only to assume the character of the light-hearted, happy darky and no one would suspect the cool-headed, vigilant detective, in the rollicking negro whose only aim in life appeared to be to get enough to eat, and a comfortable place to toast his shins.
It was arranged that the two men should travel together until they arrived at Leonardstown, when they were to separate, Webster proceeding on to Richmond by way of Fredericksburg, while Scobell was to make his way to the rebel camp at Dumfries, and then up as far as Centreville.
Proceeding by stage to Leonardstown they parted company, each one depending upon his own exertions to get across the river. Although they had traveled in the same coach, they paid no attention to each other, nor gave any indication of a previous acquaintance. At Leonardstown Webster went to a hotel, kept by a Mr. Miller, who was a bitter secessionist,and had known my operative for some time. His greeting was cordial, and his enthusiasm over his escape from the officers at Baltimore, an account of which he had read in the paper, was quite overpowering.
While they were conversing together a tall, dark-whiskered man came into the room, and after a quick, nervous glance at Webster, requested to see the land lord in another room. As they departed, Webster bestowed a searching look upon the new-comer and was at once impressed with the familiarity of his features. He recollected that while he was coming down on the stage, this man came riding rapidly behind them, seated in a buggy and driven by a young negro. They made several ineffectual attempts to pass the stage, and finally succeeded in doing so, and disappearing from view. Webster had forgotten all about him, until his sudden appearance at the hotel and his suspicious actions attracted his attention. After the lapse of a few minutes the two men again entered, and the stranger immediately took his departure.
Filled with curiosity as to the identity of the man, Webster carelessly observed to the landlord:
"That fellow seemed a little nervous, doesn't he?"
"Yes," replied the landlord, "and he has cause to be; he is a deserter from the Yanks."
"Was he an officer?"
"He says he was a surgeon, and had served in the regular army on the Pacific coast for a numberof years. His family are Southerners, and he says he concluded to throw up his commission and join our side."
"Which way is he going?"
"He wants to get to Richmond as soon as he can. He will be back shortly and I'll introduce you to him; perhaps you can give him a helping hand."
"I'll do what I can," replied Webster, with a mental reservation. "What is his name?"
"He gave me his name as Doctor Gurley: he brought a letter from a friend of mine in Washington, and I believe he is carrying some messages to Mr. Benjamin, the Secretary of War, which he is very anxious to deliver as early as possible."
"Well, we may be fellow-travelers if he turns up in time to go over with me," said Webster, who was already attempting to devise some plan for intercepting the delivery of the dispatches which the titled deserter was carrying.
"I have made all arrangements," replied the landlord, "and will send you both down to-morrow in time to get the boat."
"All right," said Webster; "and now, as I have a little time before dinner, I will take a short walk to give me an appetite."
Webster was intent upon finding John Scobell, if possible. He had formed a plan for getting possession of the dispatches, and he required the services of his colored companion in order to perfect it.Keeping a sharp look-out about him, he strode on in the direction of the negro quarters, where he felt reasonably sure of meeting with the man he was in search of. As chance would have it, when within a short distance of the locality, he saw, to his intense delight, Scobell approaching him from the opposite direction. In a few words, he developed his plan to the intelligent darky, and from the broad grin which overspread his countenance, it was evident that he not only fully understood, but highly relished, the propositions that had been made. It was arranged, that Scobell should be in the neighborhood of the hotel during the afternoon, and that Webster should endeavor to point out to him the deserting surgeon, after which Scobell was to perform the duty which Webster had delegated to him.
That afternoon, the Doctor, who was stopping with some friends, a short distance out of town, made his appearance at the hotel, and Mr. Miller, having first assured him of my operative's loyalty, introduced the two men to each other. By reason of Webster's familiarity with the country, and his evident and hearty desire to serve his new-found friend, he soon won the kindly regards of the Doctor, who prolonged his visit until nearly dark. At length, promising to meet Webster on the morrow, and with a parting beverage, the Doctor started to go. Webster accompanied him to the door, and with apparent good-feeling, bade him good-evening. As Webster re-enteredthe hotel, he noticed with satisfaction that Scobell was on hand, and had posted himself in a secluded position, where, unobserved himself, he could watch the hotel, and notice what transpired.
"There is going to be a shower, and the Doctor will have to walk fast to escape it," said Webster, as he entered the bar-room.
He had been engaged in friendly conversation with Mr. Miller for about an hour, when they heard the hurried stamping of feet outside; in a few moments, the door was thrown suddenly open, and the deserting Doctor stood before them. The appearance of the Doctor was most rueful. He was without his hat; his clothing was disarranged, and torn and soiled; his face was of a death-like paleness, while his lips trembled as if with fear.
Webster and the landlord sprang to their feet, and rushed toward the man, who was very near falling from exhaustion.
"What has happened!" inquired Webster, in a tone of solicitude.
"I've been attacked and robbed!" ejaculated the Doctor, weakly.
The landlord poured out a glass of spirits, which he gave to the demoralized Doctor, and after swallowing it, he seemed to regain his strength. After he had been sufficiently restored, he related his story. After leaving the hotel, he had started to walk toward the house where he was stopping. It becomingquite cloudy, and fearing a storm, he had hastened his pace in order to avoid the rain. Suddenly, as he was passing through a small patch of woods, he was stealthily approached from behind, by some one, who struck him a fearful blow on the back of the head. He was completely stunned and fell to the ground. When he recovered consciousness, he found that he had been thoroughly searched, and that his dispatches to the Secretary of War had been taken. Nothing else about his person was disturbed, and the attack had evidently been made by somebody who was aware of the fact that he had them in his possession. The Doctor's anxiety about his loss was pitiable in the extreme, but Webster could scarcely repress a smile of satisfaction, at the success which Scobell had achieved in capturing the precious documents.
"Never mind," said Webster, soothingly. "The loss of the papers won't amount to much; when we arrive in Richmond you can communicate verbally the nature of the papers you have lost."
"That's the devil of it," blurted out the Doctor. "I don't know their contents; they were intrusted to me by men who are working in the interest of the South, and as they were sealed, I have no more idea than you have what they contained."
This piece of information was an additional source of satisfaction to Webster, who had thus effectually prevented their transmission to the Rebel government. He sympathized with the Doctor, however, mostsincerely, and although that individual was decidedly crestfallen at the turn of affairs, under Webster's ministrations he recovered some of his spirits, and finding that he was not seriously injured, he again started for his lodgings. He took the precaution, this time, to carry his revolver in his hand, and to keep a sharp look-out as he journeyed along.
Miller, the landlord, was somewhat alarmed at this adventure, but Webster endeavored to reassure him as best he could. He suggested that the attack was probably made by some one who was in the interest of the South, but who was fearful that, as the Doctor had deserted from the Northern army, he might not be as true to the good cause as he should be. However this may be, Miller's fears soon disappeared, and by nine o'clock he had recovered his usual good-humor, and set about making his arrangements for the morrow. Feeling anxious to learn from Scobell, Webster lighted a cigar and strolled out into the street. He walked slowly along, and after he had gone some distance from the hotel he turned around, and saw following him, at some distance behind, a figure which he instantly recognized as Scobell's. He therefore went on until he came to the outskirts of the town, and then awaited the arrival of his companion.
Scobell came up with a broad grin on his countenance, and extending his hand, said:
"Here dey is, Mister Webster. Dey is all right,an' I reckon de Doctor don't know what hurt him by dis time."
Webster took the packet from the outstretched hand of the black man, and complimented him warmly upon his success. Scobell seemed quite elated over his exploit, and it was with some difficulty that Webster could restrain him from breaking out into loud laughter.
Scobell informed Webster that he had already made arrangements for forwarding the documents to me, provided they met with the approval of the scout. He suggested that they be intrusted to an intelligent and loyal colored man, who was to start for Washington on the following morning, and whose honor and truthfulness could be implicitly relied upon.
"I should like to see this man first," said Webster, when Scobell had concluded.
"Werry well; cum along of me," answered Scobell. "I'll show you sumfin you neber seed afore, I reckon."
"Go ahead, then," directed the scout.
Proceeding together a short distance, when the black stopped before a dilapidated building that had evidently not been used for some time. It was a low, two-story structure, the windows of which were boarded up, and no sign of life was visible from without.
"Come this way," said Scobell, in a low voice,taking Webster by the hand and through a low door, on which he rapped three times.
Webster had scarcely time to give vent to his astonishment by a low whistle, when the door was noiselessly opened. They entered without challenge and found themselves in utter darkness, while Webster could hear the bolts and bars being replaced upon the door. Listening intently, he thought he could hear voices overhead, and a noise as of the shuffling of feet. Presently he heard a shrill whistle from his conductor, which was replied to from above with the query:
"Who comes?"
"Friends of Uncle Abe!" was the reply.
"What do you desire?"
"Light and Liberty!" came the response.
Immediately a trap-door overhead was opened, revealing a dimly-lighted room, and a rope-ladder was let down before them.
"Mister Webster, you go up first," said Scobell, "and I will follow you."
Webster took hold of the ropes and, ascending easily, found himself in a dimly lighted room and surrounded by a body of negroes, numbering about forty. Some of them were young men who had barely attained their majority, while others were middle-aged, with a goodly number whose heads were as white as snow. The room in which they were assembled was quite large and entirely destituteof furniture. An upturned barrel, with an American flag draped over it, served as the desk of the President, and his seat was made of a box, which had once been used in packing merchandise for shipment.
It was not long before Webster realized that he was in a lodge of "the Loyal League," composed almost exclusively of colored men, and whose branches extended over the entire South. The trap-door being closed behind them, Webster was introduced to the assembly by John Scobell, who had already identified himself with the institution. His welcome was most cordial and hearty. Shortly after they had become quiet, the President, a tall, well-formed negro, about thirty-five years of age, took his position, and in a deep, full voice, addressed the meeting. He detailed the operations of the various lodges which he had visited, and gave an encouraging account of the good work that was being done by the colored men throughout the country. He was listened to intently, and when he had finished he was greeted with numerous remarks of approval and indorsement.
Scobell had meanwhile disclosed the nature and objects of the "Loyal League." Although as yet prevented from taking up arms in defense of their rights, these colored men had banded themselves together to further the cause of freedom, to succor the escaping slave, and to furnish information toloyal commanders of the movements of the rebels, as far as they could be ascertained.
The President of the League, Scobell said, was about undertaking a trip to Washington, and he was the person who had been selected to carry the packet to me. Webster conversed with him for some time after he had spoken, and finding him reliable and willing to undertake the task about to be imposed upon him, he signified his willingness to trust him with the delivery of the dispatches. Writing a hasty description of the manner in which they had been obtained, he safely sewed the package and his letter in the lining of the messenger's coat, and fully instructed him as to how the papers should be delivered.
Webster was called upon before the meeting adjourned, and he replied in a few words of encouragement and compliment, which elicited the most sincere tokens of appreciation from his sable auditors.
After thanking the colored men for their kindness to him, Webster and Scobell descended from the improvised lodge-room, and Webster made his way back to the hotel, feeling quite relieved as to the safety of the dispatches, and fully confident that they would reach their destination in safety. He shortly afterwards retired to rest, fully satisfied with the day's work, and slept soundly until morning.
The trusty messenger arrived in Washington in due time, and I received from his hands the papersintrusted to him. They were of a highly important nature, and conveyed information to the rebel authorities which would have been very dangerous had they reached their legitimate destination. As it was, through Webster's sagacity, Scobell's physical power, and the exertions of the President of the "Loyal League," the traitor surgeon was prevented from assisting the cause of treason and rebellion, and as a bearer of dispatches, his first venture was far from being successful.