CHAPTER VIII.
THE ARRIVAL OF THE FLEET.
Marcy Gray had passed through the ordeal he so much dreaded, and was aswell satisfied with the way he had come out of it as he had hoped to be.Of one thing he was certain: every person to whom he had spoken thatmorning was suspicious of him, but that was no more than he expected.Some people in Nashville believed that he had not only instigated butordered the destruction of Beardsley's house and Shelby's, and that hecould in like manner command the burning of any house in the settlementif he felt like it, and that was what he thought they would believe. Heknew it wasn't so, and it troubled and vexed him to have such thingslaid to his charge; but how could he help it, and what single thing hadhe done to bring it about?
"Heaven knows I wish they would let us alone," was what Marcy said tohimself as he galloped along the road, "but I'll not stand by and see mymother worried and tormented without doing something to stop it; and ifBeardsley or Shelby or anybody else tries it on, I will have himpunished for it if I can."
Just then a low but shrill whistle, sounding from the woods which camedown close to the road on the left hand, attracted Marcy's attention andcaused him to draw rein gradually and bring his horse to a stand-still.He pulled a paper from his pocket, and while pretending to read, lookedsideways toward the woods, and saw Aleck Webster making his way upthrough the bushes. You will remember that these two once held a shortprivate interview at this very spot.
"Good-morning, sir," was Aleck's greeting. "We didn't like to break upyour night's rest, but I suppose we did."
"You may safely say that," answered Marcy. "We never slept a wink, oreven tried to, after we saw that Beardsley's house was on fire. Mymother and I are sorry you did that. After you had rescued us, whycouldn't you go away satisfied?"
"And let the same thing happen again?" exclaimed Aleck. "I suppose youknow that Beardsley was to blame for the robbers coming to your house?"
"We don't know it, but we think so," replied Marcy.
"We had as strong evidence as we needed that he meant to do that verything, and when he was ready to spring his plans, he found us waitingfor him. Perhaps you don't know it, but your house has been watchedevery night for a week past."
"I wish I could find words to thank you," began Marcy.
"Belay that, if you please, sir," said Aleck hastily. "We are helpingourselves while we are looking out for you. You are Mr. Jack Gray'sbrother, and that is enough for me to know. Our letter brought the cap'nhome in a tolerable hurry, and ought to have been a warning to him tokeep still after he got here. Perhaps he will see now that we meant whatwe said to him."
"I certainly hope he will, for I don't want to see any more of hisbuildings destroyed. I suppose you had reason to connect Colonel Shelbywith Beardsley's schemes?"
"You're right, we did. He was knowing to them and didn't try to stopthem, and so we thought we'd best tell him not to go too far. Theythought, if they left home for a spell, we would not blame them, but wewere onto them all the same. They can't make a move or do a thing thatwe don't know it."
Marcy wanted much to ask what means Aleck and his friends used to keepthemselves so well informed; who those friends were and how many therewere of them; but on second thought he decided that the best thing hecould do would be to listen and say nothing. He would have been glad toknow what had been done with the four prisoners the rescuing partycarried away with them; but as Aleck did not once refer to them, Marcycontented himself with asking about the wounded one.
"Was the man who was knocked down very much hurt?" said he.
"Oh, no. He came around all right in a few minutes," answered Aleck; andthen, as if to show Marcy that he did not intend to say more on thatsubject, he hastened to add, "My object in stopping you was to inquireif you are satisfied with the way I have kept the promise I made Mr.Jack. I told him I would always stand his friend, and yours. You don'toften get letters from him, I suppose?"
"Not often," replied Marcy, with a smile. "The mail does not runregularly between our house and the Yankee fleet."
"No, I reckon not; but if you get a chance to write to him, tell himwhat I have told you."
"Look here, Aleck," said Marcy suddenly. "Do the members of your bandever hang about the post-office? I know I have seen you there a fewtimes."
"Of course; and you will, no doubt, see me there again. We have to goamong people to keep suspicion away from us."
"That's what I thought," continued Marcy. "Now, are you not afraid thatsome one will bring soldiers there to make prisoners of you?"
"No, I don't think they will," said Aleck indifferently. "If thesoldiers should come, there are men in that town who would run so fastto meet and send them back, that you couldn't see them for the mud theywould kick up in the road."
"You mean that they would not permit the soldiers to molest you?"
"They wouldn't, if they could help it, for they know their town would bedestroyed if they did," replied Aleck; and Marcy was frightened by thespiteful emphasis he threw into his words. "They will be sorry enough,before we are done with them, that they ever tried to break up thisgovernment. We want peace and quiet, and we're going to have 'em, if wehave to hang every rebel in the country."
This was what we meant when we said, at the close of the last chapter,that we should soon see whether or not Mark Goodwin had reason to bealarmed by Tom Allison's reckless proposition. It seemed that everycontingency had been thought of and provided for by the long-headedUnion men who held secret meetings in the swamp, and that, if Allisonpossessed ordinary common sense, he would not say a word to thecommanding officers at Plymouth and Roanoke regarding the situation inand around Nashville. Marcy did not like to hear the stalwart youngsailor talk in this savage strain, so he switched him off on anothertrack, by saying:
"I want to ask one other question before I forget it: Were you the manwho nodded to me last night, when you and your friends came in, andsaved me from a choking?"
"I reckon so; and I was the one who got your revolvers back for you.They didn't do you much good, did they? That little nig of yours is assharp as they make 'em. Didn't he tell you who we were?"
"He gave us to understand that he didn't know."
"That was all right. It shows that he can be trusted to keep his mouthshut. But, I am afraid, if we don't quit talking, somebody will ask youwhat you found in your paper that was so mighty interesting; so good-by.Don't be alarmed on account of Beardsley and the rest. I have a notionthat the fear of punishment will make them let you and every other Unionman about here alone after this."
Aleck disappeared among the bushes, and Marcy rode on with his eyesstill fixed upon his newspaper; but he did not see a word in it. He wasthinking of the Union men, who had showed themselves brave enough topunish their enemies almost under the noses of two strong Confederategarrisons.
"They are a desperate lot, whoever they are," was his mental reflection,"and I would rather have them on my side than against me. What will bethe next thing on the programme?"
There was not much work accomplished on the plantation that day, for theexcited negroes, some of whom did not know a thing about the raid of theprevious night until it was over, had too much talking to do amongthemselves, and with Morris and Julius, who held their heads high andthrew on airs because they had been prominent actors in the thrillingscenes that took place in Mrs. Gray's sitting-room. Julius thoughthimself of so much consequence that it was all Marcy could do topersuade him to give the dead Bose a decent burial, and then he wasobliged to go with him to see that the task was well done. But he wasnot as impatient with the black boy as he would have been if AleckWebster had not spoken so well of him. They had visitors, too; and Marcyknew that their object in coming was not to sympathize with his motherand denounce the "outrage" as they called it, but to gain her good willif they could. As Marcy bluntly expressed it--"They would not come nearus if they thought we were friendless and helpless, but they know we arenot, and so they want to get on our blind side." They fairly "gus
hed"over the Confederate flag that was hung upon the wall of thesitting-room, but when they went away they told one another that thatbanner did not express Mrs. Gray's honest sentiments, and that it wouldnot protect her or her property for one minute if the Richmondauthorities would only yield to the importunities of General Wise, andsend a strong force to occupy Roanoke Island and the surroundingcountry. If that time ever came, the general's attention should becalled to the fact that one of the sons of that house was a sailor inthe Yankee navy.
After another almost sleepless night Marcy Gray rode again to thepost-office, to find there the same talkative, indignant, do-nothingcrowd he had long been accustomed to meet at mail time. This morning, ifsuch a thing were possible, they were more excited and angry than theyhad been the day before; but they did not fail to meet Marcy at thehitching-rack, or to talk to him as though they looked upon him as oneof themselves. He noticed that they all held papers in their hands.
"This thing is going to be stopped now, I bet you," said Mark Goodwin,who was the first to speak.
"Do you mean the war?" inquired Marcy. "If you do, I am heartily glad tohear the news."
"I mean the war right around here," answered Mark. "It's got into theNewbern papers, and they are giving us fits on account of it. They sayit serves us just right."
"What does?"
"Why, having our houses burned and--and all that."
"Do they say anything about robbery?" asked Marcy. "Or about threateningto pull a law-abiding boy up by the neck because he does not happen tohave a pocketful of money with him?"
"No," replied Mark, rather indignantly; and then, seeing by the curioussmile on Marcy's face that he had spoken too quickly, he added, "Isuppose of course that they do say something about that outrage, but Ican't tell for certain, for I have only had time to read what my paperssay concerning the burning of Beardsley's house and Shelby's."
"Probably they don't refer to the way those four villains conductedthemselves in my mother's house," said Marcy, in a tone of contempt."It's altogether too insignificant a thing to have travelled as far asthe city of Newbern."
"It isn't, either!" exclaimed Tom Allison, glaring savagely at Marcy."Nothing is too insignificant to attract attention these times. My papersays--but there it is. Read it for yourself."
"Thank you; I can't stop," answered Marcy, moving toward the office."I'll get my own, and read it on the way home."
Contrary to his expectations he did not find a very belligerent crowd inthere. The space between the counters was filled with men, and they wereall talking at once; but they had learned wisdom by past experience, andhowever much they might have desired to threaten somebody, they werecareful not to do it. They denounced Yankees and their sympathizers in ageneral way, and declared that it was a cowardly piece of business toburn houses while their owners were absent, but they did not mention anynames. Marcy loitered about until he found that he was not going to hearanything more than he had heard a score of times before, and thenmounted his horse and set out for home. Dropping the reins upon hisfilly's neck and allowing her to choose her own gait, he drew hisNewbern paper from his pocket, and began looking for the article ofwhich Mark Goodwin had spoken. He could not run amiss of it, for theblack headlines were too prominent. They took up more than half thecolumn, and after Marcy had run his eye over a few of the leadingones, he had a very good idea of the article itself. He read:"A Reign of Terror.--Civil War Inaugurated in a Sovereign State.--Cowardly Citizens Who Allow a Handful of Traitors to Work theirSweet Will of Them.--Armed and Masked Incendiaries Abroad at Night."
"There now!" exclaimed Marcy, when he read the last line. "That is asgood proof as I want that the man who wrote this knew the whole story.Mother and I were the only white persons who saw those men, and nobodywould have known that they were armed and masked if I hadn't said so.I'll bet you the paper doesn't say a word concerning the 'cowardlycitizen' who sent those robbers to our house."
Swallowing his indignation as well as he could, Marcy turned hisattention to the article, which ran as follows:
"We have learned, from what we think to be reliable sources, that a reign of terror exists in certain portions of this Commonwealth that is a burning shame and a disgrace to the cowards who permit it. They claim to be loyal Southern gentlemen up there, but they will have to furnish better proof than they have thus far given before we will believe it. When the gallant Wise was placed in command of this district in December last, Secretary Benjamin desired him to bring his legion up to 10,000 strong by recruiting in North Carolina. There was reason for this order, and for anxiety regarding Roanoke and adjacent points, because as early as September, 1861, General McClellan requested the Yankee Secretary of War 'to organize two brigades of five regiments each of New England men, for the general service, but particularly adapted to coast service.' That means that he intended to turn a horde of red-hot abolitionists and nigger-lovers loose upon our almost defenceless shores. Wise saw and realized the danger, tried hard to obey Secretary Benjamin's order, and failed; and now we know the reason why. How could he make brave soldiers out of men who will permit armed and masked traitors to ride about their county of nights, wreaking vengeance upon those who are so unfortunate as to incur their displeasure? While we deeply sympathize with Messrs. Shelby and Beardsley, whose dwellings were burned last night, and wish that the incendiaries might have chosen some less out-spoken and liberal citizens as their victims, we are constrained to say that the lesson that community has received is well deserved. Now let them arouse and stamp this lawlessness out with an iron heel; and let us warn those Union men in the same breath, and all others who feel disposed to follow in their lead, that their day will be a short one. They will not be driven from the country they will be hunted down like dogs, and hanged to the nearest tree. They will not be shot. That is the death the loyal soldier dies, but we save the rope for traitors."
"The editor's pen was so mad it stuttered when it wrote this ramblingarticle," thought Marcy. "It couldn't talk straight. If he owned aboutfifty thousand dollars' worth of houses in these parts, he would notwrite so glibly about hanging Union men. Now, let us see what sort oflanguage he used in denouncing the raid that was made upon our house."
He looked the paper through without finding any reference to it, butthat was no more than he expected. The outrages of every descriptionthat were perpetrated upon Union people during the days of the war, by"loyal Southern gentlemen," were of so common occurrence, and of solittle consequence besides, that they were never mentioned in thenewspapers. The oft-expressed verdict was that Unionists had no rightsthat any white man was bound to respect.
"If our house had been burned and everybody in it hanged, this rebelsheet would not have said a word against it." thought Marcy, shoving thepaper into his pocket and starting up his horse. "Mark Goodwin says thatthese things have got to be stopped now, which means that Beardsley andShelby will set something else afoot as soon as they return from theIsland. Now, let us see what it will be. Shall I show this paper tomother, or not?"
This was the question that Marcy pondered during his ride, and theconclusion he came to was that his mother had as much right to know theworst as he had to know it himself; so he handed out the paper as soonas he reached home, and rode on to the field to see how his small forcewas getting on with the work he had assigned it.
Then came several days of suspense that were hard to bear. Beardsley andShelby came home as soon as they heard of the loss they had sustained,but what they had to say, and what they made up their minds to do aboutit, never came to Marcy's ears. They did not take the trouble to callupon Mrs. Gray. Evidently they did not think it worth while, because shecould not restore to them the property they had lost; but others, whohad roofs that they wanted to keep over their heads, came every day ortwo, although they did not bring much news that was worth hearing. Aboutall Marcy learned
was that Beardsley and his companion had returnedfilled with martial ardor, that they were working night and day to sendrecruits to Roanoke Island, although they did not show any signs ofgoing back there themselves. They declared that the Island was as strongas Gibraltar, and if the Yankees were foolish enough to send anexpedition against it, there wouldn't be a man of them left to tell thestory of the fight; and they wanted all the youngsters in the country togo there and enlist, so that they could be able to say that they hadassisted in winning the most glorious victory of modern times. They werevery enthusiastic themselves, and they made some others so; but MarcyGray, who kept a close watch of all that went on in the settlement, didnot see more than a dozen young men and boys fall in in response totheir earnest appeals.
"It's a disgraceful state of affairs," said Tom Allison one morning,when Marcy met him at the post-office. "The Southern people deserve tobe whipped, they are so lacking in patriotism."
"Did you ever think of going into the army yourself?" inquired Marcy.
"I can't go," replied Tom. "We have sent our overseer, and that is asmuch as we can do at present. I wanted to enlist weeks ago, but fathersaid I must stay at home and help him manage the place."
Marcy found it hard to keep from laughing outright when Tom said this.The latter had never done a day's work at overseeing or anything else,and it is doubtful if he could have told whether or not a corn furrowwas laid off straight. He was too indolent to do anything but eat,sleep, and ride about the country.
"There are plenty around here who could go as well as not," continuedTom, "and I might go myself if I could only get a commission. But Iwon't go as a private soldier."
"Have you tried to get a commission?" asked Marcy.
Tom replied that he had not. He did not know how to go about it, and wasnot acquainted with any one who could tell him.
"Then hunt up General Wise, and ask his advice," suggested Marcy. "Hecan, and no doubt will put you on the right track at once."
But Tom Allison was much too sharp to do a thing like that. He was wellaware that enlisted men had no love for "cits" who could go into thearmy and wouldn't, and the promise of a colonel's commission would nothave induced him to go among them. He meant to remain at home and letother and poorer men's sons do the fighting, and Marcy knew it all thewhile.
The latter did not put much faith in the stories that Captain Beardsleyand Colonel Shelby had spread through the country, and when his mother'snegroes began coming home in companies of twos and threes, he put stillless faith in them. They were a sorry-looking lot, ragged and dirty; andthe first thing they asked for as they crowded about the kitchen doorwas something to eat.
"Oh, missus, don't eber luf dem rebels take we uns away agin," was theirconstant plea. "Dey 'buse us de wust you eber see. Dey whop us, an' deykick us, an' dey don't gib us half 'nough to eat. We all starve to def.We been prayin' night an' day dat de Yankees may come an' shoot datplace plum to pieces."
"But the trouble is that the Yankees can't do it," said Marcy, as hebustled about in search of bread and meat to satisfy the demands of thehungry blacks. "Captain Beardsley says the Island is too strong to becaptured."
The negroes confessed that they did not know much about militarymatters, but they did know that there was much dissatisfaction among thesoldiers composing the garrison, many of whom declared that they wouldmake tracks for home as soon as their year was out, leaving theConfederacy to gain its independence in any way it pleased. The Richmondauthorities would not help them, the people along the coast were toocowardly or too lazy to shoulder a musket, and they were not going tostay in the army and eat hard-tack while other able-bodied men stayed athome and lived on the fat of the land. They would do their duty untiltheir term of enlistment expired, and then they would stand aside andgive somebody else a chance to fight the Yankees. That was what a goodmany deluded and disappointed rebels thought and said about this time;but those who have read "Rodney, the Partisan," know how very easy itwas for the Confederate authorities to bring such malcontents to theirsenses.
But at last the time came when at least one of these vexed questions wasto be solved by a trial at arms. While the scenes we have attempted todescribe were being enacted on shore, others, that were of no lessinterest and importance to Marcy Gray and the people who lived in andaround Nashville, were transpiring on the water. On the 11th day ofJanuary a formidable military and naval expedition, consisting of morethan a hundred gunboats, transports, and supply ships, set sail fromFortress Monroe. Its object was to obtain possession of Roanoke Island,which the Confederates had spent so much time and care in fortifying,and which their General Wise called "the key to all the rear defences ofNorfolk." Two days later the expedition arrived off Hatteras just as afierce northeast gale was springing up, and two days after that theNewbern papers brought the encouraging news to Nashville. We sayencouraging, because there was not a man or boy in town who did nothonestly believe that those hundred vessels were doomed to certain andswift destruction. As in the case of a former expedition, Tom Allisonwas much afraid that the wind and the waves would do the work which thegunners at Roanoke Island were anxious to do themselves.
"Oh, don't I wish this wind would go down!" was the way he greeted Marcyon the morning on which the news of the arrival of the fleet reachedNashville. "Here we've gone and worked like beavers to fortify theisland, hoping and expecting to give the Yankees a Bull Run lickingthere, and now Old Hatteras has taken the matter out of our hands, andis pounding the expedition to pieces on the shoals. Half of the enemy'stubs have gone to smash already, and the rest will go back as soon asthey can. Not one of them will ever cross the bar, I tell you."
For two weeks a furious gale raged along the coast, and, during thattime, Marcy Gray lived in a state of suspense that cannot be described.He could not bring himself down to work, so he went to town twice eachday, and always came back to report the loss of another ship belongingto the expedition.
"Why, Marcy, if they keep on losing vessels at this rate, there will notbe any expedition left after a while," said his mother one day.
"These reports are all false," declared Marcy. "I tell them to youbecause they are told to me, and not because I expect you to believethem. Don't worry. Those ships are commanded by Yankees, and Yankees arethe best sailors in the world."
For a time it looked as though Tom Allison's prediction would beverified; for it was only after fifteen days' struggle with theelements, and the loss of four vessels, that Burnside and his navalassociate, Flag-officer Goldsborough, succeeded in passing throughHatteras Inlet to the calmer waters of Pamlico Sound. It was anexhibition of patient courage and skill on the part of the Unionofficers and men that astonished everybody; and even Tom Allison waswilling to confess that things were getting serious. There was bound tobe a terrible battle at the Island, and the citizens of Nashville wouldhear the guns. And if the Island should be captured, as Forts Hatterasand Clark were captured, then what? The thought was terrifying to thetimid ones, who straightway hid their clothing, and began carrying thecontents of their cellars, smoke-houses, and corn-cribs into the woods,as they had done when the news came that Butler and Stringham hadreduced the fortifications at the Inlet; but, on this occasion, Mrs.Gray's neighbors were all so busy with their own affairs that they didnot have time to run over and find fault with her because she did nothide anything.
A few days of inactivity followed, during which the fleet was repairingthe damages it had received during the storm, and then a hush seemed tofall upon the whole nation as the news was flashed over it that thefinal struggle for the possession of those waters was about to begin.The low, swampy shores of the Sound being but sparsely settled, andnearly all the able-bodied men in the country, both white and black,having been summoned to the Island, some as soldiers and the others towork on the forts and trenches, there were few to witness the grand andimposing spectacle the fleet presented as it moved into position on theevening of February 5, and dropped anchor within a few miles of theentrance to Croatan S
ound; but among those few was one who was destinedto bring Marcy Gray into deeper trouble than he had ever known before,and the reader will acknowledge that that is saying a good deal. It wasDoctor Patten's negro boy Jonas. He lay flat behind some obstructionnear the water's edge, and took in the whole scene as if it had been areview arranged for his especial benefit. He saw the waters of the Soundsplash as the heavy anchors were dropped into them, and could even hearthe shrill tones of the boatswains' pipes. When darkness came and shutthe nearest vessel out from his view, he scrambled to his feet andhastened toward his master's house, muttering under his breath:
"Jonas been prayin' hard fur de Yankees to come, an' bress de Lawd, heredey is! Now, what Jonas gwine do?"
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