Chapter 11:
- Webster Fraternizes with the rebel officers. -- a secession hat. -- a visit to a rebel camp. -- “the committee of safety.” -- a friendly stranger. -- a warning. -- the escape.
Webster's new friends were men whom he believed he could use to good advantage, and he determined to improve the chance that had thrown him in contact with them. He found them not only very well informed, but disposed to be communicative, and he therefore applied the “pumping” process with all the skill at his command. He experienced no difficulty in making this mode of operation effectual, for these officers were exceedingly willing to air their knowledge for the benefit of their Baltimore friend, and enjoyed his frequent expressions of agreeable surprise at the extent of the preparations made by the people of the South to defend their rights.
Dr. Burton was the most conspicuous one of the group, from his very pompousness. He wore a superfluity of gorgeous gold lace on his uniform, and assumed the dignity of a major-general. He was a flabby-faced, bulbous-eyed individual, with a wonderful stomach for harboring liquor, and that [169] unceasing flow of spirits arising from a magnified sense of his own importance. It was evident, even upon a short acquaintance, that the doctor found his chief entertainment in listening to himself talk, a species of recreation in which he indulged with great regularity, sharing the pleasure with as many others as would grant him a hearing.
In Webster he found an attentive auditor, which so flattered his vanity that he at once formed a strong attachment for my operative, and placed himself on familiar and confidential terms with him.
“ Webster, we've got to do some hard fighting in these parts, and that before we are many days older,” said the Doctor, with a wise shake of the head.
“I think you are right,” conceded the scout. “We must fight it out. From what you have told me, however, I am sure the Lincoln troops will find you fully prepared to give them a warm reception here.”
“That they will, sir; that they will!” was the emphatic rejoiner. “We have one full regiment and four or five companies besides, at Camp Rector, and General Pillow has thirty-seven hundred men at the camp in the rear of Fort Harris, which is a little above us on this side of the river. We expect to move with him, and if there is an attack made upon us every man in the town will instantly become a soldier.”
“ Have you arms enough for all of them?” [170]
“ Arms? Let the Yankees count on our not having arms, and they will meet with a surprise party. In two hours notice we can have from eight to ten thousand men ready to march.”
“No doubt of it, Doctor; but how do you expect to get two hours notice?”
“ Lord bless you, Webster, we have men watching the movements of the Yankees at Cairo, and the minute they make a move we are notified. Then our signal gun is fired, and every man is mustered.”
“ A good arrangement, truly,” said the detective. quietly.
“ You look as if you could do some hard fighting yourself, Mr. Webster,” remarked Colonel Dalgetty.
The detective smiled.
“ I have been fighting against great odds for the past two months in Baltimore. The last battle I fought was to get away from there with my life.”
“Yes, and we are confounded glad to receive you here,” exclaimed the enthusiastic Doctor, shaking Webster by the hand for the twentieth time. “Come, gentlemen, we must have another drink. Step up and nominate your ‘pizen.’ ”
The glasses were filled, and some one proposed the toast: “Death to the Yankees!” Under his breath, however, the detective muttered, “Confusion to the rebels!” and drained his glass. The toast was no sooner drank than Lieutenant Stanley, who was [171] evidently beginning to feel the influence of the liquor he had drank, took off his uniform hat and put it on Webster's head.
“ Excuse me, Mr. Webster,” he said, “I merely wish to see how you look in one of our hats.” Then stepping back, he added: “By the gods, nothing could be more becoming! My dear fellow, you must have one by all means, if you stay among us.”
Webster endeavored laughingly to object, but they all refused to accept “no” for an answer. So, finding it impossible to resist, he went with them to a neighboring hat store.
“ Fit a hat to Mr. Webster's head — a hat just like mine,” said Dr. Burton, to the proprietor; then turning to the scout, he added: “We will have you a cord and tassel of blue, as that will show that you are true to the cause, although you do not belong to the military.”
The hatter produced a secession chapeau of the kind and size required, and Webster at once put it on, much to the delight of the Doctor, who slapped Webster familiarly on the shoulder, with the exclamation :
Now, my dear fellow, you can consider yourself at home!
“Perfectly at home,” echoed Colonel Dalgetty.
“ Henceforward you are one of us,” put in the Lieutenant.
Webster thanked them cordially for their kindness, [172] and promised to wear it in preference to any other. As they stepped outside of the store, however, all thoughts of the new hat were temporarily driven from his mind, for, standing on the sidewalk, within a few yards of the store door, and looking directly at him, was the identical individual whom he had noticed on the train, who had arrested the Northern stranger the night before.
The gaze which this vigilant agent of the safety committee now bent upon Webster was full of dark suspicion, but after one swift glance at him the detective turned away with an air of perfect composure and unconcern, and walked off between his companions. To say that he felt some uneasiness at this evidence that he was still being closely followed, would be only to tell the truth. His first impulse was to speak to his companions about it, but a second thought decided him not to mention the matter to any one, nor to betray by word or act that he had the slightest hint of a suspicion that he was being watched.
The three officers introduced Webster to a large number of soldiers and citizens, and before the day was over he had quite an extended circle of acquaintance in Memphis. Dr. Burton, who had conceived a fancy for him, as sudden as it was pronounced, assumed a sort of paternal control over Webster, hovering about him with an air of protection and solicitude, and drawing the scout's arm through his when they walked together. [173]
That afternoon, Webster, desiring to be alone for awhile, hired one of the hackmen at the door of the hotel to drive him three or four miles into the country. He went down the river road, and as it was a beautiful day, he enjoyed himself admiring the picturesque scenery along the way.
Just below the town, on the bank of the river, he found a small encampment of soldiers with a battery, who were on the lookout for boats coming up the river, and during his ride he saw several encampments of the same nature. After spending several hours inspecting the fortifications along the river, Webster returned to the hotel, which he reached about dark.
The next day Doctor Burton and several of his military friends sought out the detective, and urged him to go with them to Camp Rector.
“Gentlemen, I am at your service,” said Webster, earnestly. “I think I would enjoy a visit to your camp to-day above all things.”
They went to the levee, and at ten o'clock were on the boat, steaming up the river toward Mound City, where Camp Rector was located.
A distance of some six or seven miles, passing on their way up, various objects of interest, among them Fort Harris, which was merely an embankment thrown up, to answer the purpose. Arriving at Mound City, the party disembarked and walked to the hotel. After dinner the party visited the camp-ground, a distance of about one-fourth of a mile from the hotel, [174] and here Dr. Burton and the other officers took much pride in showing Webster around. They talked volubly about the unexampled bravery of the Confederate soldier; had much to say on the subject of Southern chivalry as opposed to Northern braggadocio; told how well they were prepared to meet the onslaught of the enemy; and found a special delight in exhibiting to the visitor a portion of General Bragg's artillery, which they had in the camp.
After that they seated themselves around a table in one of the larger tents, to rest and enjoy the grateful shade, as it was a warm and sunny afternoon. While engaged in the most bombastic utterances of their prowess, and of the wonderful exploits that might be expected of the Southern army, their conversation was interrupted by a shadow falling across the strip of sunlight that streamed in through the opening of the tent. Every one around the table glanced up, and there at the entrance stood the man with the broad-brimmed hat! The intruder did not tarry a moment, but turned and walked away. Evidently he had stopped only to look in; but in that single instant he had shot a keen, and apparently satisfactory, glance at Timothy Webster, which was fortunately not observed by any one save the detective himself.
“ That fellow is one of the safety committee,” said Dr. Burton, filling his glass.
“He appears to be looking for some one,” remarked Lieutenant Stanley. [175]
“Reckon he is,” answered the Doctor. “He's always looking for some one. And, by-the-bye, those chaps are doing a heap of good for the cause just now. A Northern man stands no show for his life in these parts if the safety committee spots him. They hang 'em on suspicion.”
“ That's right,” said Webster, coolly. “I believe in hanging every Northern man that comes prowling around. They don't deserve a trial, for they have no right here anyway.”
But cool and collected as Webster outwardly appeared, it must be admitted that he was inwardly ill at ease. There was now no longer the shadow of a doubt in his mind that this long-haired agent of the safety committee was following him and watching his every movement, and that any attempt on his part to return to the North would betray him and cause his arrest.
“The only reason I have not already been arrested,” mused the scout, “is because they are not sure whether I came from the North or not. They merely suspect, and are watching me to see if I undertake to return northward. Such an act would confirm their suspicions, and I would be arrested and probably put to death as a spy. It stands me in hand to give them the slip before I take the back track.”
After spending a very pleasant day at the camp, he returned to Memphis on the latest boat that night, informing Dr. Burton that he was going to Chattanooga [176] to look up a brother whom he had not seen in twelve years.
“You'll come back?” said the Doctor, as he wrung his hand.
“ Oh, certainly,” was the cheerful response. “I'll be with you again before long.”
Colonel Gaines, of the artillery, who heard this conversation, now grasped the scout's hand.
“ Webster, you'd make a good soldier,” he said, bluntly. “Hang me if I wouldn't like to have you on my force.”
Webster smiled good-naturedly.
“ I have some family business to attend to before I could think of entering the army. After that I may remind you of your remark.”
“All right,” said the Colonel, “any time that you are ready, come; I will make room for you.”
On his way down the river Webster found, to his relief, that the man with the broad-brimmed hat was not aboard the boats. He now had a hope of being able to give his shadow the slip by leaving Memphis on early train in the morning.
Arriving in sight of their destination, the passengers on the ferry-boat were surprised to see that the levee was crowded with people. Shortly after, they learned that this unusual gathering was caused by the capture of the steamboat “Prince of Wales” by the rebels.
Webster went to the Worsham Hotel, where he [177] spent the night, and at five o'clock in the morning, after making a few preparations, and dispatching an early breakfast, he repaired to the depot. Arriving there he looked carefully about on all sides, but saw no one who seemed to take any interest in his movements. “So far, so good,” he muttered, as he boarded the train; and the next minute he was leaving the scene of his most recent exploits with the speed of the wind.
He was himself too shrewd and cunning to feel absolutely sure that he was not followed. His own experience in the art of “shadowing” told him he had not yet escaped the vigilant eyes of the safety committee, but he resolved to elude them if it was possible to do so.
Innumerable troops were being transported at this time, and the train was crowded with soldiers. Webster amused himself by making the acquaintance of the officers, and skillfully drawing on their fund of information, until the train arrived at Grand Junction, where he decided to change cars for Jackson, Tennessee.
Accordingly, he abandoned the Chattanooga cars and boarded the north-bound train, which was in waiting at the junction, and again he was whirled away across the verdure-clad country, this time toward the “land of the free.” But no sooner was the train well under way than something which came under Webster's observation removed from his mind all [178] doubt as to whether he would be permitted to pursue his journey unmolested. He occupied a seat in the forward part of the car, and on turning carelessly away from the window after gazing out upon the landscape for awhile, he was somewhat surprised at seeing an individual standing on the front platform of the car, looking in through the glass door.
It was a person whose face and figure had already become quite familiar to him, being no other than the man who had so persistently followed him for the past few days.
“He seems determined not to let me get away,” thought the scout; hut neither in his face nor manner did he betray any of the disappointment he felt.
He noticed that his pursuer was not alone this time, but was accompanied by another person-an ill-looking man of herculean proportions — with whom he conversed in an earnest, confidential way.
When the train arrived at Jackson, Webster stepped out upon the platform of the depot, and the two agents of the safety committee did the same. The conductor stood near by, and Webster spoke to him in a tone which he meant his shadows to hear, asking:
How soon will there be a train for Humboldt?
“In twenty minutes,” replied the conductor.
“Do you know anything about the hotels there?” inquired the scout. “I've got to stop two or three days in the town, and it's a strange place to me.” [179]
The conductor recommended him to a good house convenient to the depot, and thanking him for the information, Webster turned away. He had spoken in a tone that he knew must have been distinctly heard by his enemies, and he hoped this bit of stratagem would have the desired effect.
He boarded the train for Humboldt, and the brace of shadows promptly followed him, taking seats in the same car.
While the train was speeding on its way, Webster was aroused from a reverie by the voice of a woman saying:
Pardon me, sir; may I occupy a portion of this seat?
He looked up; a tall, very respectable looking lady was standing in the aisle, and he saw in an instant that she was the person who had addressed him.
“Certainly, madam, certainly ;” he replied; and quickly made room for her.
She sat down beside him, and then, to his great surprise, she began to talk to him in a low, earnest tone, without once turning her face toward him.
“You are going to Humboldt?” she inquired.
“I am,” he answered, surprised at the question.
“You are a Northern man?”
“Madam!” A suspicion flashed, lightning-like, across his mind.
“ Believe me, I am not an enemy,” the lady went [180] on, “I have been sitting in the rear part of this car I heard two men talking, and have reason to believe they were speaking about you. They said they would stop at the same hotel with you in Humboldt, and keep a close watch over you, and if you attempt to go northward they will arrest you, take you back to Memphis, and deal with you as they would with any Northern spy. I advise you to be very careful, sir, for your life depends upon it.”
The train by this time was approaching Humboldt, and the lady arose and disappeared before the astonished detective could tender his thanks for the warning. She was destined to remain an utter stranger to him for all time to come, for he never heard of her afterwards. As they entered the depot, Webster passed out at the rear end of the car, and he noticed, with a smile of satisfaction, that his attendant shadows were making their way out at the front. As he stepped from the car he noticed a pile of baggage near him, and quickly stepping behind this, he watched the movements of the two men. Apparently fully satisfied that their game would be safely bagged at the hotel, they left the depot and walked rapidly away in the direction of the public-house. His ruse worked to a charm. A violent shower happened to be passing over at this time, and it was only natural for the two “safety” men to suppose that Webster had stopped to seek shelter in the depot for a few minutes. [181]
The express train from Memphis was soon due, and as it came dashing in “on time,” Webster jumped aboard, and was on his way toward Louisville, smiling in his sleeve as he thought of those two crafty foxes, whose cunning had overreached themselves, patiently awaiting his arrival at the hotel in Humboldt.
Before crossing the Kentucky line, Webster put his rebel hat out of sight, and once more donned the one he had worn from the North.
The remainder of his journey was made without incident, and in due time he arrived in Cincinnati, and reported to me.
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| A hot lunch. |
