General Nelson's Scout

General Nelson listened to his report not only with attention, but with astonishment.

"Fred," said he, "you are a marvel; you are worth a brigade of soldiers. I have been reporting all the time to the authorities at Washington that Buckner was heart and soul with the South; but they wouldn't believe me. Neither will they believe me now, but I can act on your information."

"Fred," continued the general, walking rapidly up and down the room, "I sometimes think there is a set of dunderheads at Washington. They think they know everything, and don't know anything. If Kentucky is saved, it will be saved by the loyal men of the State. Just think of their listening to Buckner instead of me," and the general worked himself into a violent rage, and it took him some time to cool off. Then he said: "I will try once more to hurry up those arms. I will send you to-morrow to Cincinnati as a special messenger. I will write what you have told me, and I want you to impress it on General Anderson's mind. Tell him to hurry, hurry, or it will be too late."

The next morning Fred was on his way back to Nicholasville. From there he took the train for Cincinnati, at which place he arrived in due time. He delivered his dispatches to General Anderson, who, after reading them, looked at him kindly and said:

"General Nelson sends a young messenger, but he tells me of the great service you have performed and the valuable information you have gathered. It is certainly wonderful for so young a boy. Tell me more about it."

Fred modestly related what had occurred at Georgetown.

General Anderson listened attentively, and when Fred had finished, said: "You certainly deserve the credit General Nelson has given you. The information you received is of the greatest importance, and will be at once forwarded to Washington. In the mean time, we must do the best we can. General Nelson may think I am slow, but there is so much to do – so much to do, and so little to do with," and the general sighed. Fred observed him with interest, for he realized that he was talking to the hero who had defended Fort Sumter to the last.

The general was broken in health, and looked sick and careworn, and not the man to assume the great burden he was bearing. It was with joy that Fred heard that the arms would be shipped in a day or two. But when the train carrying them was ready to start, Fred saw, to his amazement, that it was not to be guarded.

"That train will never get through," he thought. "It is funny how they do things."

Fred was right; the enemies of the government were not idle. Spies were all around, and they knew when the train was to start to a minute, and the news was flashed ahead. At a small station in Harrison county the train was stopped by a large mob, who tore up the track in front, making it impossible for it to proceed. There was nothing to do but to take the train back to Cincinnati, and with it a communication to the officials of the road that if they attempted to run the train again the whole track would be torn up from Covington to Lexington.

The railway officials, thoroughly frightened, begged General Anderson not to attempt to run the train again. The Southern sympathizers were jubilant over their success, and boldly declared the arms would never be shipped.

As for Fred, he was completely disgusted, and expressed himself so.

"Well, my boy, what would you do?" asked General Anderson, smiling.

"Do! do!" answered Fred, excitedly. "I would send a regiment and a battery on a train ahead of the one carrying the arms, and if the mob interfered I would sweep them from the face of the earth."

"Well said, my lad," replied Anderson, his face lighting up and his eyes kindling. "I feel that way myself, but a soldier must obey orders, and unfortunately I have different orders."

"What is the next move?" asked Fred.

"I have orders to load them on a steamboat, and send them up the Kentucky River to Hickman Bridge."

Fred looked his disgust.

"You don't seem pleased," said the general.

"Pleased!" blurted out Fred; "excuse me, General, but it is all foolishness. Have I not heard those fellows plotting? The boat will be stopped the same as the train."

The general turned away, but Fred heard him say, as if to himself: "I am afraid it will be so, but the government persists in tying our hands as far as Kentucky is concerned."

General Anderson's position was certainly an anomalous one – the commander of a department, and yet not allowed to move troops into it.

According to his orders, Fred took passage on the boat with the arms, but he felt it would never be permitted to reach its destination. His fears proved only too true. When the boat reached the confines of Owen county they found a great mob congregated on the banks of the river.

"Turn back! turn back!" was the cry, "or we will burn the boat." The captain tried to parley, but he was met with curses and jeers.

Fred went on shore, and mingling with the mob, soon learned there was a conspiracy on the part of the more daring to burn the boat, even if it did turn back. Hurrying on board, Fred told the captain his only salvation was to turn back at once, and to put on all steam. He did so, and the boat and cargo were saved.

Once more the Confederate sympathizers went wild with rejoicing, and the Union men were correspondingly depressed.

But the boat made an unexpected move, as far as the enemy were concerned. Instead of proceeding back to Cincinnati, it turned down the Ohio to Louisville. Here the arms were hastily loaded on the cars, and started for Lexington. Fred was hurried on ahead to apprise General Nelson of their coming. Fred delivered his message to the general, and then said: "The train will never get through; it will be stopped at Lexington, if not before."

"If the train ever reaches Lexington I will have the arms," grimly replied Nelson. "Lexington is in my jurisdiction; there will be no fooling, no parleying with traitors, if the train reaches that city."

Then he turned to Colonel Thomas E. Bramlette, and said: "Colonel, take a squadron of cavalry, proceed to Lexington, and when that train comes, take charge of it and guard it to Nicholasville. I will have wagons there to transport the arms here."

Colonel Bramlette saluted, and replied: "General, I will return with those arms or not at all."

The general smiled; he understood.

"May I accompany the colonel?" asked Fred.

"Certainly, if you wish," answered Nelson. "You have stayed by the arms so far, and it is no more than right that you should be in at the finish."

The enemy was alert, and the news reached Lexington that the train loaded with the arms and ammunition for the soldiers at Dick Robinson was coming.

Instantly the little city was aflame with excitement. The State Guards under the command of John H. Morgan gathered at their armory with the avowed intention of seizing the train by force. John C. Breckinridge made a speech to the excited citizens, saying the train must be stopped, if blood flowed.

In the midst of this excitement Colonel Bramlette with his cavalry arrived. This added fuel to the already intense excitement.

"Drive the Lincoln hirelings from the city!" shouted Breckinridge, and the excited crowd took up the cry.

A demand was at once drawn up, signed by Breckinridge, Morgan and many others, and sent to Colonel Bramlette, requesting him to at once withdraw from the city, or blood would be shed.

Colonel Bramlette's lips curled in scorn as he read the demand, and turning to the messenger who brought it, said: "Go tell the gentlemen they shall have my answer shortly."

Writing an answer, he turned to Fred, saying: "Here, my boy, for what you have done, you richly deserve the honor of delivering this message."

Right proudly did Fred bear himself as he delivered his message to Breckinridge. Major Hockoday, who was standing by Breckinridge, scowled and muttered, "It's that – Shackelford boy."

Captain Conway heard him, and seeing Fred, with a fearful oath, sprang towards him with uplifted hand. He had not seen Fred since that night he plunged from the train. His adventure had become known, and he had to submit to any amount of chaffing at being outwitted by a boy; and his brother officers took great delight in calling out: "Look out, Conway, here comes that detective from Danville!"

This made Captain Conway hate Fred with all the ardor of his small soul, and seeing the boy, made him so forget himself as to attack him.

But a revolver flashed in his face, and a firm voice said: "Not so fast, Captain."

The irate captain was seized and dragged away, and when the tumult had subsided Breckinridge said: "I am sorry to see the son of my friend, Colonel Shackelford, engaged in such business; but it is the message that he brings that concerns us."

He then read the following laconic note from Colonel Bramlette:

Lexington, Aug. – , 1861.

To Hon. John C. Breckinridge, John H. Morgan and Others.

Gentlemen: – I shall take those arms, and if a drop of Union blood be shed, I will not leave a single Secessionist alive in Lexington.

Thomas E. Bramlette,Colonel Commanding.

There was a breathless silence; faces of brave men grew pale. There were oaths and muttered curses, but the mob began to melt away. The victory was won.

The train arrived, and Colonel Bramlette took charge of it without trouble. Just as the troop of cavalry was leaving Lexington, a boy came out and thrust a note into Fred's hand. He opened it and read:

To Fred Shackelford:

Boy as you are, I propose to shoot you on sight, so be on your guard.

Capt. P. C. Conway.

Fred smiled, and handed the note to Colonel Bramlette, who read it and said: "Fred, you will have to look out for that fellow."

The journey back to Dick Robinson was without incident. The long looked for arms and ammunition had come. What rejoicing there was! What wild hurrahs! Plenty of arms and ammunition! It meant everything to those men surrounded as they were with enemies on every side. In the midst of the rejoicing, Fred was not forgotten. He and Colonel Bramlette were the heroes of the hour. The fight for the possession of the arms was over. General Nelson had won.

CHAPTER VII.

THE FOILING OF A PLOT

Camp Dick Robinson was all excitement. General Nelson, the man of iron nerve, who, in the face of opposition from friends, the most direful threats from foes, saved Central Kentucky to the Union, had been relieved of his command and assigned to another field of labor. The new commander to take his place was General George H. Thomas.

To Fred the news that his general, as he had come to look upon Nelson, had been assigned to another command, was anything but pleasing. "But where Nelson goes, there will I go," was his thought. "After all," he said, bitterly, "what does it matter where I go. I am homeless and an outcast."

General Thomas, like Nelson, was a heavy, thickset man, but there the likeness ended. Thomas never lost his temper, he never swore, he never complained, he never got excited. He was always cool and collected, even under the most trying circumstances. He afterwards became known to his soldiers as "Pap Thomas," and was sometimes called "Slow-Trot Thomas," for the reason he was never known to ride his horse off a trot, even in the most desperate battle.

When General Thomas reported to Camp Dick Robinson he and Nelson held a long consultation. Finally Fred was called into their presence.

"This, General, is Fred Shackelford, the boy of whom I spoke," said Nelson.

Fred saluted the new commander, and then respectfully remained standing, awaiting orders.

"Fred," continued General Nelson, "General Thomas and I have been discussing you, and I have been telling him how valuable your services have been. I fully expected to take you with me to my new command, but both General Thomas and myself feel that just at present your services are very much needed here. This camp is very important, and it is surrounded with so many dangers that we need to take every precaution. You are not only well acquainted with the country, but you seem to have a peculiar way of getting at the enemy's secrets no other one possesses. There is no doubt but you are needed here more than at Maysville, where I am going. But we have concluded to leave it to you, whether you go or stay. You may be sure I shall be pleased to have you go with me. What do you say, Fred?"

Fred looked at General Thomas, and thought he had never seen a finer, grander face; but he had grown very fond of the fiery Nelson, so he replied:

"General Nelson, you know my feelings towards you. I appreciate your kindness. If I consulted simply my own wishes I should go with you. But you have pointed out to me my duty. I am very grateful to General Thomas for his feelings towards me. I shall stay as long as I am needed here, and serve the general to the best of my ability."

"Bravely said, Fred, bravely said," responded Nelson. "You will find General Thomas a more agreeable commander than myself."

"There, General, that will do," said Thomas quietly.

So it was settled that Fred was to stay for the present with General Thomas.

The next day Generals Thomas and Nelson went to Cincinnati to confer with General Anderson, and Fred was invited to accompany them.

Once more he was asked to lay before General Anderson the full text of the conversation he had overheard at Georgetown. This he did.

"What do you think, General?" asked Thomas, who had listened very closely to the recital.

"I am afraid," replied General Anderson, "that the authorities at Washington do not fully realize the condition of affairs in Kentucky. Neither have they any conception of the intrigue going on to take the State out of the Union. No doubt, General Buckner has been playing a sharp game at Washington. He seems to have completely won the confidence of the President. It is for this reason so many of our requests pass unheeded. If what young Shackelford has heard is true, General Buckner is now in Richmond. He is there to accept a command from the Confederate government, and is to return here to organize the disloyal forces of Kentucky to force the State out of the Union. Now, in the face of these facts, what do you think of this," and the general read the following:

Executive Mansion, Aug. 17th, 1861.

Hon. Secretary of War.

My Dear Sir: – Unless there be reason to the contrary, not known to me, make out a commission for Simon B. Buckner as a Brigadier-General of volunteers. It is to be put in the hands of General Anderson, and delivered to General Buckner, or not, at the discretion of General Anderson. Of course, it is to remain a secret unless and until the commission is delivered.

A. Lincoln.

During the reading, General Thomas sat with immovable countenance, betraying neither approbation nor disgust. But Nelson exploded like a volcano.

"Great God!" he roared, "are they all idiots at Washington? Buckner a Federal general! Oh! the fools, the fools! Give him his commission, Anderson, give him his commission, and then let Lincoln invite Jeff Davis to a seat in the cabinet. It would be as sensible," and then he poured forth such a volley of oaths that what he really meant to say became obscure.

When he had blown himself out, General Thomas quietly said: "Now, General, that you have relieved yourself, let us again talk business."

"I don't believe you would change countenance, Thomas, if Beauregard was placed in command of the Federal armies," replied Nelson, pettishly.

"Perhaps not," calmly replied Thomas. "But Central Kentucky needed just such fire and enthusiasm as you possess to save it from the clutches of the rebels, and if I can only complete the grand work you have begun I shall be content, and not worry over whom the President recommends for office."

"You will complete it, General; my work could not be left in better hands," replied Nelson, completely mollified.

In a few moments Nelson excused himself, as he had other duties to perform.

Looking after him, General Anderson said: "I am afraid Nelson's temper and unruly tongue will get him into serious trouble yet. But he has done what I believe no other man could have done as well. To his efforts, more than to any other one man, do we owe our hold on Kentucky."

"His lion-like courage and indomitable energy will cover a multitude of faults," was the reply of General Thomas.

Fred returned to Camp Dick Robinson with General Thomas, and he soon found that the general was fully as energetic as Nelson, though in a more quiet way. The amount of work that General Thomas dispatched was prodigious. Every little detail was looked after, but there was no hurry, no confusion. The camp began to assume a more military aspect, and the men were brought under more thorough discipline.

September saw great changes in affairs in Kentucky. According to the program which Fred had heard outlined at Georgetown, the Confederates began their aggressive movements. Hickman, on the Mississippi River, was occupied by the Confederate army under General Polk on the 5th. As swift as a stroke of lightning, General Grant, who was in command at Cairo, Illinois, retaliated by occupying Paducah on the 6th. General Polk then seized the important post of Columbus on the 7th. A few days afterward General Buckner moved north from Tennessee, and occupied Bowling Green. At the same time General Zollicoffer invaded the State from Cumberland Gap. All three of these Confederate generals issued stirring addresses to all true Kentuckians to rally to their support. It was confidently expected by the Confederate authorities that there would be a general uprising throughout the State in favor of the South. But they were grievously disappointed; the effect was just the opposite. The Legislature, then in session at Frankfort, passed a resolution commanding the Governor to issue a proclamation ordering the Confederates at once to evacuate the State. Governor Magoffin, much to his chagrin, was obliged to issue the proclamation. A few days later the Legislature voted that the State should raise a force of 40,000 men, and that this force be tendered the United States for the purpose of putting down rebellion. An invitation was also extended to General Anderson to assume command of all these forces. Thus, to their chagrin, the Confederates saw their brightest hopes perish. Instead of their getting possession of the State, even neutrality had perished. The State was irrevocably committed to the Union, but the people were as hopelessly divided as ever. It was to be a battle to the death between the opposing factions.

Shortly after his return to Dick Robinson, Fred began to long to hear from home, to know how those he loved fared; so he asked General Thomas for a day or two of absence. It was readily granted, and soon he was on his way to Danville. He found only his Uncle and Aunt Pennington at home. His father had gone South to accept the colonelcy of a regiment, and was with Buckner. His cousin Calhoun had accompanied Colonel Shackelford South, having the promise of a position on the staff of some general officer. His little sister Bessie had been sent to Cincinnati to a convent school. The adherents of the opposing factions were more bitter toward each other than ever, and were ready to spring at each other's throats at the slightest provocation. Neighbors were estranged, families were broken, nevermore to be reunited; and over all there seemed to be hanging the black shadow of coming sorrow. Kentucky was not only to be deluged in blood, but with the hot burning tears of those left behind to groan and weep.

Fred was received coldly by his uncle and aunt. "You know," said Judge Pennington, "my house is open to you, but I cannot help feeling the keenest sorrow over your conduct."

"I am sorry, very sorry, uncle, if what I have done has grieved you," answered Fred.

"No one can be really sorry who persists in his course," answered the judge. "Fred, rather – yes, a thousand times – had I rather see you dead than doing as you are. If my brave boy falls," and his voice trembled as he spoke, "I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that he fell in a glorious cause. But you, Fred, you – " his voice broke; he could say no more.

Fred was deeply moved. "Uncle," he softly said, "I admit you are honest and sincere in your belief. Why can you not admit as much for me? Why is it a disgrace to fight for the old flag, to defend the Union that Washington and Jefferson helped form, and that Jackson defended?"

"The wrong," answered Judge Pennington, "consists in trying to coerce sovereign States. The Constitution gives any State the right to withdraw from the Union at pleasure. The South is fighting for her constitutional rights – "

"And for human slavery," added Fred.

The judge's cheeks flamed with anger.

"Look out, Fred," he exclaimed, choking with passion, "lest I drive you from my door, despite my promise to your father. Don't go too far. You are not only fighting against the South, but you are becoming a detested Abolitionist – a nigger worshiper."

Fred felt his manhood aroused, but controlling his passion he calmly replied:

"Uncle, I will not displease you longer with my presence. The time may come when you may need my help, instead of my needing yours. If so, do not hesitate to call on me. I still love my kindred as well as ever; they are as near to me as ever. There is no dishonor in a man loyally following what he honestly believes to be right. I believe you and my father to be wrong – that your sympathies have led you terribly astray; but in my sight you are none the less true, noble, honest men. As for me, I answer for myself. I am for the Union, now and forever. Good-bye, uncle! May God keep all of those we love from harm," and he rode away.

Judge Pennington gazed after him with a troubled look, and then murmured to himself: "After all, a fine boy, a grand boy! A Kentuckian all over! Would that he were on the right side!"

Upon Fred's return to headquarters he found General Thomas in deep consultation with his staff. Circulars had been scattered all over the State and notices printed in newspapers calling for a meeting of the State Guards at Lexington on the 20th. Ostensibly the object of the meeting was to be for a week's drill, and for the purpose of better preparing the Guards to protect the interests of the State. But General Thomas believed there was a hidden meaning in the call; that it was conceived in deceit, and that it meant treachery. What this treachery was he did not know, and it was this point he was discussing with his staff when Fred entered. The sight of the boy brought a smile to his face.

"Ah, my boy!" he exclaimed, "I am glad to see you. We have a hard problem; it is one rather in your line. I trust you can solve it."

He then laid the circular before Fred, and expressed his opinion that it contained a hidden meaning. "There is no end to those fellows' plottings," he said, "and we are still weak, very weak here. With General Zollicoffer moving this way from Cumberland Gap, it would not take much of a force in our rear to cause a great disaster. In fact, a hostile force at Lexington, even if small, would be a serious matter."

Fred read the circular carefully, as if reading between the lines, and then asked:

"It is the real meaning of this call that you wish?"

"By all means, if it can be obtained," answered the general.

"I will try to obtain it," replied Fred, quietly. "General you may not hear from me for two or three days."

"May success attend you, my boy," replied the general, kindly, and with this he dismissed his staff.

"It has come to a pretty pass," said a dapper young lieutenant of the staff to an older member, "that the general prefers a boy to one of us," and he drew himself proudly up, as if to say, "Now, if the general had detailed me, there might have been some hopes of success."

The older member smiled, and answered: "I think it just as well, Lieutenant, that he chose the boy. I don't think either you or me fitted for that kind of work."

The lieutenant sniffed and walked off.

Again a black-haired, dark-skinned boy left headquarters at Dick Robinson, this time for Lexington. Arriving there, Fred took a room at the leading hotel, registering as Charles Danford, Cincinnati, thinking it best to take an entirely fictitious name. He soon learned that the leading Southern sympathizers of the city were in the habit of meeting in a certain room at the hotel. He kept very quiet, for there was one man in Lexington he did not care to meet, and that man was Major Hockoday. He knew that the major would recognize him as the boy he met at Georgetown, and that meant the defeat of his whole scheme. Fred's first step was to make friends with the chamber maid, a comely mulatto girl. This he did with a bit of flattery and a generous tip. By adroit questioning, he learned that the girl had charge of the room in which the meetings of the conspirators were held.