Marcy, the Refugee

"And do you think they are coming this way?" asked Mr. Allison.

"I believe they will visit every house in the settlement before they quit," replied Mark; whereupon Tom got up and acted as though he wanted to do something. "They must have robbed other houses before they came to ours, for I noticed that several of them carried sporting rifles and fowling-pieces in addition to the carbines that were slung at their backs. It is my opinion that you had better wake up, if you want to save the guns that cost you so much money."

Mr. Allison evidently thought so, too, for he turned about and went into the house, whither he was followed by Tom and Mark as soon as the latter had hitched his horse. The boys went at once to Tom's room and opened the closet, in which was stowed away one of the finest and most expensive hunting outfits in that part of the State.

"Sooner than let this fall into the hands of the enemy I would break it in pieces over the chopping-block," said Tom, looking admiringly at the handsome muzzle-loading rifle he had carried on more than one excursion through the Dismal Swamp.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," replied Mark. "Take it into the garden, and shove it under some of the bushes. Go ahead and I will follow with the shot-gun; but be sure and take the flask, horn, game-bags, and everything else belonging to them, for if they find part of the rig they will want to know where the rest is."

Mark's suggestions were carried out, and just in the nick of time too; for as the boys were returning from the garden, in which they had hastily concealed the guns and their accoutrements, they heard the pounding of a multitude of hoofs on the road and hastened through the hall to the front porch in time to see a small squad of cavalry ride into the yard, while another and larger body of troopers halted outside the gate. It was plain that Mr. Allison did not intend to follow the example of his foolhardy neighbor, and so run the risk of bringing upon himself the vengeance of the men he could not successfully resist, for he stood out in plain view of them, and even returned the military salute of the big whiskered man who rode at the head of the squad.

"They are the same who robbed our house," said Mark, in an excited whisper. "Will they know me, do you think? And if so, will they do anything to me for warning you?"

Tom Allison did not reply, for his attention was wholly occupied by the Yankee soldiers, the first he had ever seen. They were not ragged and dirty like most of the paroled Confederates who passed through the settlement a few days before. On the contrary, they were well and warmly dressed, and, like the horses they rode, looked as though they had been accustomed to good living.

"Good-morning," said the captain pleasantly. "It is my duty to ask if you have anything in the shape of weapons in your house."

To the surprise of both the boys Mr. Allison replied:

"Yes, sir; I have."

"That's honest, at any rate," said the captain. "Will you please bring them out?"

"Do you intend to take them from me?" said Mr. Allison.

"I think you understand the situation as well as I could explain it to you," answered the soldier, nodding toward Mark Goodwin, whom he recognized as soon as he looked at him; and as if to show that he was not in the humor to put up with any nonsense, he dismounted, his example being quickly followed by his men.

"Of course I will bring them out," Mr. Allison hastened to say. "But they are heirlooms and I don't like to part with them. Besides, they are no longer of use as weapons."

He went into the house as he said this, and the captain, who seemed to be a lively, talkative fellow, and good-natured as well, even if he was a Yankee, turned to Mark and said:

"You beat me here, did you not?"

"I hope there was nothing wrong in my coming," said Mark, beginning to feel uneasy.

"Nothing whatever. You have a right to go where you please and do what you like, so long as you do not set the graybacks on us."

"Graybacks?" said Mark inquiringly.

"Yes. Johnnies – rebel cavalry."

"Oh! Well, there are none around here that I know of, but you can find plenty of them a few miles back in the country," said Mark, who was a little surprised to hear himself talking so freely with this boy in blue who had carried things with so high a hand in his father's house a short time before; and then, emboldened by the sound of his own voice, and prompted by an idea that just then came into his mind, he added: "I can tell you where you will find one rebel and also a rebel flag, if you would like to have it for a trophy."

These words almost knocked Tom Allison over, but at the same time they loosened his tongue.

"That's so, but I never should have thought to speak of it," he exclaimed. "Go back the way you came until you strike the big road, then turn to the left and stop at the first house you come to."

"And remember that you will pass ruins on your left hand before you get where you want to go," added Mark, who did not mean that the Yankee officer should miss his way for want of explicit directions.

"Who lives there?" inquired the latter, looking sharply at the two boys as if he meant to read their thoughts, and find out what object they had in view in volunteering so much information. "He must be a rebel, of course, if he has a rebel flag in his possession."

"His name is Marcy Gray, and he is rebel or Union, just as it happens," said Tom. "He has been pilot on a privateer and blockade runner."

"Aha!" said the captain.

"Yes," continued Tom. "But the minute you Yankees came here and captured the Island he quit business and came home."

"Which was the most sensible thing he could have done," said the officer. "Are there any weapons in the house, do you know?"

Before either of the boys could reply Mr. Allison came out upon the porch, bringing with him the "heirlooms" of which he had spoken – an old officers sword and a flint-lock musket that, so he said, had passed the winter with Washington at Valley Forge.

"If that is the case I'll not touch them," said the captain. "These are all you have, I suppose?"

"There are no other weapons in the house," replied Mr. Allison.

The officer smiled, gave Mark Goodwin a comical look, and then mounted his horse and rode out of the yard without saying another word. Mr. Allison and the boys watched him until he joined his command and with it disappeared down the road, and then Mark said:

"What do you reckon he meant by grinning at me in that fashion?"

"He meant that those 'heirlooms' of father's did not fool him worth a cent," answered Tom. "The next officer who comes here will say: 'Perhaps there are no weapons in the house, but are there any around it?' And then he will turn his men loose in the yard and root up everything. Those guns of mine must go in some safer place as soon as night comes. Now give us one of your good stories, Mark."

"That's so," exclaimed the latter. "The sight of those Yankees made me forget all about it. You know that big iron-clad of ours that's been building up at Portsmouth, don't you?"

"Aw! I don't want to hear any more about her," cried Tom. "She is a rank failure."

"Judging by the stories that have been circulated about her she was a failure; but judged by the work she did three days ago she is a glorious success," replied Mark, pausing for a moment to enjoy the surprise which his statement occasioned among his auditors for now that the Yankees had taken themselves off, without turning the house upside down or insulting anybody, the whole family came out on the porch, and a servant brought chairs enough to seat them all. "She captured and burned the Congress, sunk the Cumberland, and if there had been a few hours more of daylight, she would have served the rest of the Yankee fleet in the same way."

"Why, Mark, when did this happen?" inquired Mrs. Allison.

"And where?" chimed in Tom.

"And how did you hear of it, seeing that the Yankees have rendered our post-office at Nashville useless to us?" said his father.

"It happened on the afternoon of the 8th of March, and the scene of the conflict was Hampton Roads, off the mouth of the James," answered Mark.

"My father told me of it last night, and he first got the news from Captain Beardsley, who – "

"Ah! I was afraid there wasn't a word of truth in it," exclaimed Mr. Allison.

"But it is true, every word of it," said Mark earnestly. "Beardsley always has been half crazy over that vessel, for he says he has seen and talked with sailor-men who have been all over her; and he has more than once declared that, when she was ready for sea, she would make a scattering among the Yankee fleet at Fortress Monroe. He told father that he had heard a letter read that was in some way smuggled through from Norfolk yesterday, and that that letter was written by a man who took part in the fight. All the same father would not believe it until he had seen and read the letter himself. He thinks it is true, and so do I."

"I certainly hope it is," said Mrs. Allison. "But those Yankees who came here a while ago acted more like victors than like beaten men."

Mark Goodwin, who of course got his ideas from his father, declared that they would not act that way much longer; for as soon as the Federal fleet at Fortress Monroe had been disposed of, Commodore Buchanan, the gallant commander of the Virginia, would have his choice of two courses of action: he could not carry coal enough to run up and lay the city of New York under contribution, but he could reduce Fortress Monroe and bombard Washington, or he could come South, scatter Goldsborough's fleet, and recapture Pamlico and Albemarle sounds.

"Glory!" shouted Tom, jumping up and throwing his hat into the air; and even his father began to show signs of excitement. "Tell him not to mind us, but to go up and lay Washington in ashes. Our papers said long ago that it must be purified by fire before Southern legislators would consent to go there again. Well, which course did Buchanan decide to follow?"

"I don't know," replied Mark. "I wish I did; but that letter was written on the evening of the 8th, after the Virginia drew out of the fight and came back to Norfolk."

"Were any of our brave fellows injured?" asked Mrs. Allison.

"Oh, yes. Buchanan himself was wounded, and treacherously too. When the Congress struck her flag and our boats went alongside to take possession of her, she opened fire on us again. That made Buchanan mad, and he riddled her with his big guns till he killed her captain and more than a hundred of her crew."

"She was deservedly punished," said Mrs. Allison, and all on the porch agreed with her, though there was not a word of truth in the story. The volley of musketry that was poured into the Confederate small boats came from the Union troops on shore, who did not know that the Congress had surrendered.

"Go on and tell us some more good news," said Tom, when his friend settled back in his chair.

"That's about all I heard, because the letter did not go much into particulars; but there'll be others smuggled through in a day or two, and some papers, most likely, and then I shall expect to hear that our fellows are in Washington. At any rate the people around here are acting on the supposition that we have got the upper hand of the Yanks, and I want to be able to say that I had a hand in whipping them, so I have joined the Home Guards. So has my father."

"The Home Guards?" echoed Tom.

"I was not aware that there was an organization of that kind in the settlement," said Mr. Allison.

"I didn't either until father told me last night," answered Mark. "And I am a little too fast in saying that I have joined. I am going to hand in my name this very day, and Tom, you must go with me."

"I'll do it," said Tom, getting upon his feet and squaring off at an imaginary antagonist. "What are we going to do? Who are we going to whip, and what is the object of the thing, any way?"

"Well, I – we're going to fight," replied Mark.

"I suppose one object of the organization is to keep the spirit of patriotism alive among our people," observed Mr. Allison.

"That's the idea; and to make the traitors among us shut their mouths and quit carrying their heads so high," cried Mark. "They have had companies of this kind in Kentucky and Tennessee for a long time; and in Missouri the State Guards, as they are called, have done the most of the fighting. Ben Hawkins says that if we had had strong companies of well-disciplined Home Guards around here, Roanoke Island would not have been captured."

"Who cares what Ben Hawkins says?" exclaimed Tom. "He's a traitor; and when he declared that he wouldn't fight for the South any more, I told him to his face that he was a coward."

"Oh, my son," said the doting mother, "I am afraid your high spirit will bring you into trouble some time."

Mark Goodwin knew that his friend's "high spirit" had nothing to do with the scathing rebukes he had received in the post-office. His unruly tongue and his want of common sense were to blame for it.

"Is Mr. Goodwin a member of the Home Guards?" inquired Mr. Allison.

"Then I think I will ride over and have a talk with him. From his house I will go to town and see if I can learn more of that glorious victory in Hampton Roads."

The gentleman went into the house accompanied by his wife, and Tom and Mark descended the steps out of ear-shot of the rest of the family.

"Where shall we go?" was the first question they asked each other.

"I wish we could go to half a dozen different places at once," said Tom, at length. "If we go to Beardsley's we may be sorry we didn't go to town; and if we call on Colonel Shelby, to see if he can tell us anything about that light, we may be sorry we didn't go somewhere else. What do you say?"

"I say, let's ride over to Beardsley's in the first place, and to Marcy Gray's in the next."

"And so follow up that squad of thieving Yankees and see what damage they did? If they overhauled Gray's house I can pretend to sympathize with them, you know, for that was the way they served us."

"Overhaul nothing!" exclaimed Tom in disgust. "Mark my words: I don't believe they went near the Grays; but if they did, they treated them with more civility than they showed my father. Come along, and see if I haven't told you the truth."

Tom's horse was ready and waiting, and a rapid ride of twenty minutes brought him and Mark to a field in which Beardsley was working with some of his negroes. When he saw them approaching he shied a chip he held in his hand at the head of the nearest darky, who caught sight of it in time to dodge, and came up to the fence to wait for them. His actions proved that he was full of good news, for he placed his hands on his knees, bent himself half double, looked down at the ground, and shook his head as if he were laughing heartily. When he reached the fence he pounded the top rail with his fist, and shouted as soon as the boys came within speaking distance:

"Have them varmints been up to your house?"

"Do you mean the Yanks?" answered Mark, as he and Tom reined their horses across the ditch to the place where the man was standing. "I should say so; and you ought to have seen the way they conducted themselves, just because my father stood on his dignity as any other Southern gentleman would."

"Well, he was a fule for standing on his dignity or anything else," said the captain bluntly. "You didn't ketch your Uncle Lon trying to ride no such high horse as that there, I bet you, kase fifty agin one is too many. I was right here in this field when they come along," continued Beardsley, resting his right foot upon one of the lower rails and both his elbows on the top one, for he never could stand alone if there were anything he could conveniently lean upon, "and when they asked me did I have any we'pons of any sort up to the house, I told 'em I had for a fact, and if they didn't mind, I'd go up and bring 'em out. So I clim the fence and went along."

Here the captain went off into another paroxysm of laughter, shaking his head and pounding the top rail with his clenched hand.

"Well, what did you give them when you reached the house?" asked Mark impatiently.

"Nothing in the wide world but an old shotgun that belonged to one of the boys that used to come out from Nashville squirrel shooting once in a while, and that I wouldn't fire off if you'd give me a five-dollar gold piece," chuckled Beardsley. "The rest of my shooting-irons is hid where they won't find 'em. You see I suspicioned that they would do something of this kind as soon's they got a foothold here, and so I toted my guns out in the garden and shoved 'em under some bresh there is there."

"You had better hunt up a better hiding-place for them the first thing you do," said Tom earnestly. "There's where I put mine when Mark warned me, but I am not going to leave them there. The Yankee who came to our house was as much of a gentleman as one of his kind could be, but the next one who comes along may be a different sort. Did they go to Marcy Gray's?"

"Bet your life," said the captain, with another chuckle. "Do you reckon I'd let them miss that place? I sent them there, and they was gone long enough to give the house a good overhauling; but what I can't quite see through – "

"We sent them there too," exclaimed Tom. "Did you see them when they returned? What did they have?"

"I'll bet they made Marcy hand over that fine hunting rig in which he takes so much pride," added Mark. "I'd give a dollar if I could have looked into his face about the time he gave up that boss shot-gun of his, that I have heard him brag about until it made me sick."

"Why didn't they take Marcy himself as well as the guns?" continued Tom. "He couldn't deny that he has given aid and comfort to the Confederates by running the blockade and capturing vessels for them."

"And if he did deny it, how did he explain the presence of that Confederate flag in his house?" demanded Mark.

"Hold on till I tell you how it was," said Beardsley, as soon as the boys gave him a chance to speak. "Them Yankees went up to Grays', like I told you, and I was here when they come back; but they didn't have the first thing."

"Whoop! Then they didn't search the house," yelled Mark. "Marcy and Jack have more shot-guns and sporting rifles than any two other boys in the country."

"Leastwise they didn't find nothing that was contraband of war," said the captain. "Them is the very words they spoke to me."

Tom and Mark looked at each other in speechless amazement.

CHAPTER XV.

MARCY SEES SOMEBODY

If you would like to know why Captain Burrows (that was the name of the officer who commanded the Union troopers) did not find in Mrs. Gray's house any articles that were contraband of war, we will ride with him and his company long enough to find out.

During the days of which we write scouting was a necessary duty, but it sometimes happened that it was one of the most disagreeable, particularly when it fell to the lot of a gentleman like Captain Burrows, and his orders compelled him to enter private houses whose only inmates were supposed to be women and children; but now and then these scouts found able-bodied men in uniform concealed in dwellings that were thought to be occupied wholly by non-combatants. During the Yazoo Pass expedition the gunboat to which we belonged was ordered to search all the houses along the banks of the Coldwater and Tallahatchie rivers, although we knew that that important duty had already been performed by the soldiers. In one house, whose female occupants vociferously affirmed that all the men who belonged there were in Vicksburg and had not been near home for six months, a belt containing a sword and revolver was found under a bed. That was as good evidence as we wanted that the man who owned the belt was not far away, and after a short search he was discovered in the cellar. No doubt there were better hiding-places about the house, but the blue-jackets came up so suddenly that he did not have time to go to them. A little further search resulted in the finding of some important dispatches which the Confederate had concealed in a barrel of corned beef; but when its contents were poked over by a bayonet, the dispatches betrayed themselves by rising to the surface. So you see it was sometimes necessary to search private houses; but like Mr. Watkins, the gunboat officer who took Marcy Gray from his bed to serve as pilot in the Union navy, Captain Barrows wished that some other officer had been detailed to do the work. Although he went from Beardsley's house straight to Mrs. Gray's, he had no intention of searching it. He knew more of Marcy than Tom and Mark thought, and perhaps he could have told them a few things concerning themselves that would have made them open: their eyes. He had halted and questioned every negro he met on his scout, and he knew the name of every Union man and every rebel in the settlement. When he arrived at the house he did not lead his men into the yard, nor did he ride in himself. He dismounted and went in on foot, and Marcy, who had seen him coming, opened the door without giving him time to knock.

"I know you are Marcy Gray, from the descriptions I have heard of you," was the way in which the captain began his business. "I am told that you have any number of dangerous weapons as well as a Confederate flag in your possession."

"I plead guilty," replied Marcy. "Will you walk in?"

He was not at all afraid of the officer, for the latter smiled at him in a way that put him quite at his ease. Besides, if the captain knew anything about him, as his words seemed to indicate, he must be aware that he had willingly served under the Union flag, and under the other one because he could not help himself. Marcy led him into the room in which his mother was waiting, and the captain straightway quieted her fears, if she had any, by saying:

"I am on a scout, madam, looking for rebel soldiers and fire-arms that may be concealed in the settlement; but, so far as you are concerned, my visit is merely a matter of form."

"Take this chair," said Marcy, "and I will be back in a moment."

The Confederate flag had been removed from its place on the wall, but the boy knew where to find it; and when he brought it into the room he brought with it his fine rifle and shotgun, his revolvers, a bed-quilt and the letter that Captain Benton had given him; and Julius, who followed at his heels, brought as many more guns, which belonged to the absent Jack. He was gone but a few minutes, but quite long enough to enable Mrs. Gray to give the visitor some scraps of his history; and as her story was confirmed by those he had heard from the negroes along his line of march, he was so well satisfied of Marcy's loyalty that when the latter came in and deposited his burdens on the table, the officer had not the least intention of taking any of them away with him. He spread the Confederate flag upon the floor so that he could see it; examined the guns one after another, and inquired about the shooting on the plantation; and held Captain Benton's letter up to the light, to see if he could read what was written upon it.

"There's a fire on the hearth, sir," Marcy reminded him.

"I know there is; but if I should bring out the words by holding this paper to the heat, and it should some day fall into the hands of the rebels, it might make serious trouble for you," said the captain. "If such a thing happens I don't want to be the means of it, for I know that you were of service to our fleet during the fight at Roanoke Island."

"I was there, sir," answered the boy modestly. "And if you say so, I will rip up this quilt and show you the Union flag that waved over my head while I was acting as Captain Benton's pilot."

"A Union flag in this house, alongside of a Confederate!" exclaimed the captain, who was surprised to hear it. "I should think you would be afraid to have it about you. I understand that the most of the people in this neighborhood are the worst of rebels."

Marcy replied that although there were some Union people in the settlement the Confederates outnumbered them two to one, but he did not believe that any of the latter knew there was a Union banner in the house. Then he went on to explain how and when it came into his possession, and again offered to produce it; but Captain Burrows said he would not put him to so much trouble. He asked a few leading questions which he knew Marcy could not answer unless he had really "been there," after which he took his cap from the table, saying as he did so: