Chapter 22:
- Webster and Scobell. -- a negro as a spy. -- a traitor Deserts from the army. -- he Carries dispatches to the rebels, which fail of their destination. -- an attack in the woods. -- “the loyal League.” -- slaves as Patriots.
On the first day of November, 1861, General McClellan was made the Commander-in-Chief of all the armies of the United States. Immediately on assuming this important position, the General turned his attention to the entire field of operations, regarding the Army of the Potomac as a branch, though the most important one, of the armies under his command.
Reliable information regarding the location and strength of the enemy was the most desirable thing to be obtained at present, and although Webster had been performing giant labor in this direction, his operations comprised but a minor portion of the work that devolved upon me. Numerous men of various callings and abilities were traveling through the South, gathering items of news wherever possible, and reporting the same as accurately and as rapidly as they were enabled to do so. So numerous were the methods which I employed in promoting the [344] successful operations of the secret service, that it is possible within the limits of the present volume to enumerate but very few of the many events which occurred. Among the many men thus employed, was a negro by the name of John Scobell, and the manner in which his duties were performed, was always a source of satisfaction to me and apparently of gratification to himself. From the commencement of the war, I had found the negroes of invaluable assistance, and I never hesitated to employ them when, after investigation, I found them to be intelligent and trustworthy.
As I have previously stated, all refugees, deserters and contrabands coming through our lines were turned over to me for a thorough examination and for such future disposition as I should recommend. John Scobell came to me in this manner. One morning I was seated in my quarters, preparing for the business of the day, when the officer of the guard announced the appearance of a number of contrabands. Ordering them to be brought in, the pumping process was commenced, and before noon many stray pieces of information had been gathered, which, by accumulation of evidence, were highly valuable. Among the number I had especially noticed the young man who had given his name as John Scobell. He had a manly and intelligent bearing, and his straightforward answers to the many questions propounded to him, at once impressed me very favorably. [345] He informed me that he had formerly been a slave in the State of Mississippi, but had journeyed to Virginia with his master, whose name he bore. His master was a Scotchman, and but a few weeks before had given him and his wife their freedom. The young woman had obtained employment in Richmond, while he had made his way to the Union lines, where, encountering the Federal pickets, he had been brought to headquarters, and thence to me. He gave an intelligent account of his travels through the country, and appeared to be well informed as to the localities through which he passed, and of the roads and streams round about.
I immediately decided to attach him to my headquarters, with the view of eventually using him in the capacity of a scout, should he prove equal to the task. For two weeks I employed him in various capacities of minor importance, but those in which secrecy and loyalty were essential qualifications, and his performance of these duties was all that could be desired. At the end of that time I resolved to send him into the South, and test his ability for active duty. Calling him into my quarters, I gave him the necessary directions, and dispatched him, in company with Timothy Webster, on a trip to Virginia. Their line of travel was laid out through Centreville, Manassas, Dumfries, and the Upper and Lower Accoquan.
John Scobell I found was a remarkably gifted man for one of his race He could read and write, and [346] was as full of music as the feathered songsters that warbled in the tropical groves of his own sunny home. In addition to what seemed an almost inexhaustible stock of negro plantation melodies he had also a charming variety of Scotch ballads, which he sang with a voice of remarkable power and sweetness. During the evenings his singing was the chief feature of the impromptu entertainments that were resorted to in order to while away the tedious hours before retiring, and he soon became a universal favorite. Possessing the talents which he did, I felt sure, that he had only to assume the character of the light-hearted, happy darky and no one would suspect the cool-headed, vigilant detective, in the rollicking negro whose only aim in life appeared to be to get enough to eat, and a comfortable place to toast his shins.
It was arranged that the two men should travel together until they arrived at Leonardstown, when they were to separate, Webster proceeding on to Richmond by way of Fredericksburg, while Scobell was to make his way to the rebel camp at Dumfries, and then up as far as Centreville.
Proceeding by stage to Leonardstown they parted company, each one depending upon his own exertions to get across the river. Although they had traveled in the same coach, they paid no attention to each other, nor gave any indication of a previous acquaintance. At Leonardstown Webster went to a hotel, kept by a Mr. Miller, who was a bitter secessionist. [347] and had known my operative for some time. His greeting was cordial, and his enthusiasm over his escape from the officers at Baltimore, an account of which he had read in the paper, was quite overpowering.
While they were conversing together a tall, dark-whiskered man came into the room, and after a quick, nervous glance at Webster, requested to see the land lord in another room. As they departed, Webster bestowed a searching look upon the new-comer and was at once impressed with the familiarity of his features. He recollected that while he was coming down on the stage, this man came riding rapidly behind them, seated in a buggy and driven by a young negro. They made several ineffectual attempts to pass the stage, and finally succeeded in doing so, and disappearing from view. Webster had forgotten all about him, until his sudden appearance at the hotel and his suspicious actions attracted his attention. After the lapse of a few minutes the two men again entered, and the stranger immediately took his departure.
Filled with curiosity as to the identity of the man, Webster carelessly observed to the landlord:
That fellow seemed a little nervous, doesn't he?
“Yes,” replied the landlord, “and he has cause to be; he is a deserter from the Yanks.”
“ Was he an officer?”
“ He says he was a surgeon, and had served in the regular army on the Pacific coast for a number [348] of years. His family are Southerners, and he says he concluded to throw up his commission and join our side.”
“Which way is he going?”
“He wants to get to Richmond as soon as he can. He will be back shortly and I'll introduce you to him; perhaps you can give him a helping hand.”
“ I'll do what I can,” replied Webster, with a mental reservation. “What is his name?”
“He gave me his name as Doctor Gurley: he brought a letter from a friend of mine in Washington, and I believe he is carrying some messages to Mr. Benjamin, the Secretary of War, which he is very anxious to deliver as early as possible.”
“Well, we may be fellow-travelers if he turns up in time to go over with me,” said Webster, who was already attempting to devise some plan for intercepting the delivery of the dispatches which the titled deserter was carrying.
“I have made all arrangements,” replied the landlord, “and will send you both down to-morrow in time to get the boat.”
“ All right,” said Webster; “and now, as I have a little time before dinner, I will take a short walk to give me an appetite.”
Webster was intent upon finding John Scobell, if possible. He had formed a plan for getting possession of the dispatches, and he required the services of his colored companion in order to perfect it. [349] Keeping a sharp look-out about him, he strode on in the direction of the negro quarters, where he felt reasonably sure of meeting with the man he was in search of. As chance would have it, when within a short distance of the locality, he saw, to his intense delight, Scobell approaching him from the opposite direction. In a few words, he developed his plan to the intelligent darky, and from the broad grin which overspread his countenance, it was evident that he not only fully understood, but highly relished, the propositions that had been made. It was arranged, that Scobell should be in the neighborhood of the hotel during the afternoon, and that Webster should endeavor to point out to him the deserting surgeon, after which Scobell was to perform the duty which Webster had delegated to him.
That afternoon, the Doctor, who was stopping with some friends, a short distance out of town, made his appearance at the hotel, and Mr. Miller, having first assured him of my operative's loyalty, introduced the two men to each other. By reason of Webster's familiarity with the country, and his evident and hearty desire to serve his new-found friend, he soon won the kindly regards of the Doctor, who prolonged his visit until nearly dark. At length, promising to meet Webster on the morrow, and with a parting beverage, the Doctor started to go. Webster accompanied him to the door, and with apparent good-feeling, bade him good-evening. As Webster re-entered [350] the hotel, he noticed with satisfaction that Scobell was on hand, and had posted himself in a secluded position, where, unobserved himself, he could watch the hotel, and notice what transpired.
“There is going to be a shower, and the Doctor will have to walk fast to escape it,” said Webster, as he entered the bar-room.
He had been engaged in friendly conversation with Mr. Miller for about an hour, when they heard the hurried stamping of feet outside; in a few moments, the door was thrown suddenly open, and the deserting Doctor stood before them. The appearance of the Doctor was most rueful. He was without his hat; his clothing was disarranged, and torn and soiled; his face was of a death-like paleness, while his lips trembled as if with fear.
Webster and the landlord sprang to their feet, and rushed toward the man, who was very near falling from exhaustion.
“What has happened!” inquired Webster, in a tone of solicitude.
“ I've been attacked and robbed!” ejaculated the Doctor, weakly.
The landlord poured out a glass of spirits, which he gave to the demoralized Doctor, and after swallowing it. he seemed to regain his strength. After he had been sufficiently restored, he related his story. After leaving the hotel, he had started to walk toward the house where he was stopping. It becoming [351] quite cloudy, and fearing a storm, he had hastened his pace in order to avoid the rain. Suddenly, as he was passing through a small patch of woods, he was stealthily approached from behind, by some one, who struck him a fearful blow on the back of the head. He was completely stunned and fell to the ground. When he recovered consciousness, he found that he had been thoroughly searched, and that his dispatches to the Secretary of War had been taken. Nothing else about his person was disturbed, and the attack had evidently been made by somebody who was aware of the fact that he had them in his possession. The Doctor's anxiety about his loss was pitiable in the extreme, but Webster could scarcely repress a smile of satisfaction, at the success which Scobell had achieved in capturing the precious documents.
“ Never mind,” said Webster, soothingly. “The loss of the papers won't amount to much; when we arrive in Richmond you can communicate verbally the nature of the papers you have lost.”
“That's the devil of it,” blurted out the Doctor. “I don't know their contents; they were intrusted to me by men who are working in the interest of the South, and as they were sealed, I have no more idea than you have what they contained.”
This piece of information was an additional source of satisfaction to Webster, who had thus effectually prevented their transmission to the Rebel government. He sympathized with the Doctor, however, most [352] sincerely, and although that individual was decidedly crestfallen at the turn of affairs, under Webster's ministrations he recovered some of his spirits, and finding that he was not seriously injured, he again started for his lodgings. He took the precaution, this time, to carry his revolver in his hand, and to keep a sharp look-out as he journeyed along.
Miller, the landlord, was somewhat alarmed at this adventure, but Webster endeavored to reassure him as best he could. He suggested that the attack was probably made by some one who was in the interest of the South, but who was fearful that, as the Doctor had deserted from the Northern army, he might not be as true to the good cause as he should be. However this may be, Miller's fears soon disappeared, and by nine o'clock he had recovered his usual good-humor, and set about making his arrangements for the morrow. Feeling anxious to learn from Scobell, Webster lighted a cigar and strolled out into the street. He walked slowly along, and after he had gone some distance from the hotel he turned around, and saw following him, at some distance behind, a figure which he instantly recognized as Scobell's. He therefore went on until he came to the outskirts of the town, and then awaited the arrival of his companion.
Scobell came up with a broad grin on his countenance, and extending his hand, said:
Here dey is, Mister Webster. Dey is all right, [353] an' I reckon de Doctor don't know what hurt him by dis time.
Webster took the packet from the outstretched hand of the black man, and complimented him warmly upon his success. Scobell seemed quite elated over his exploit, and it was with some difficulty that Webster could restrain him from breaking out into loud laughter.
Scobell informed Webster that he had already made arrangements for forwarding the documents to me, provided they met with the approval of the scout. He suggested that they be intrusted to an intelligent and loyal colored man, who was to start for Washington on the following morning, and whose honor and truthfulness could be implicitly relied upon.
“ I should like to see this man first,” said Webster, when Scobell had concluded.
“ Werry well; cum along of me,” answered Scobell. “I'll show you sumfin you neber seed afore, I reckon.”
“ Go ahead, then,” directed the scout.
Proceeding together a short distance, when the back stopped before a dilapidated building that had evidently not been used for some time. It was a low, two-story structure, the windows of which were boarded up, and no sign of life was visible from without.
“Come this way,” said Scobell, in a low voice, [354] taking Webster by the hand and through a low door, on which he rapped three times.
Webster had scarcely time to give vent to his astonishment by a low whistle, when the door was noiselessly opened. They entered without challenge and found themselves in utter darkness, while Webster could hear the bolts and bars being replaced upon the door. Listening intently, he thought he could hear voices overhead, and a noise as of the shuffling of feet. Presently he heard a shrill whistle from his conductor, which was replied to from above with the query:
Who comes?
“Friends of Uncle Abe!” was the reply.
“What do you desire?”
“Light and liberty!” came the response.
Immediately a trap-door overhead was opened, revealing a dimly-lighted room, and a rope-ladder was let down before them.
“ Mister Webster, you go up first,” said Scobell, “and I will follow you.”
Webster took hold of the ropes and, ascending easily, found himself in a dimly lighted room and surrounded by a body of negroes, numbering about forty. Some of them were young men who had barely attained their majority, while others were middle-aged, with a goodly number whose heads were as white as snow. The room in which they were assembled was quite large and entirely destitute [355] of furniture. An upturned barrel, with an American flag draped over it, served as the desk of the President, and his seat was made of a box, which had once been used in packing merchandise for shipment.
It was not long before Webster realized that he was in a lodge of “the Loyal League,” composed almost exclusively of colored men, and whose branches extended over the entire South. The trap-door being closed behind them, Webster was introduced to the assembly by John Scobell, who had already identified himself with the institution. His welcome was most cordial and hearty. Shortly after they had become quiet, the President, a tall, well-formed negro, about thirty-five years of age, took his position, and in a deep, full voice, addressed the meeting. He detailed the operations of the various lodges which he had visited, and gave an encouraging account of the good work that was being done by the colored men throughout the country. He was listened to intently, and when he had finished he was greeted with numerous remarks of approval and indorsement.
Scobell had meanwhile disclosed the nature and objects of the “Loyal League.” Although as yet prevented from taking up arms in defense of their rights, these colored men had banded themselves together to further the cause of freedom, to succor the escaping slave, and to furnish information to [356] loyal commanders of the movements of the rebels, as far as they could be ascertained.
The President of the League, Scobell said, was about undertaking a trip to Washington, and he was the person who had been selected to carry the packet to me. Webster conversed with him for some time after he had spoken, and finding him reliable and willing to undertake the task about to be imposed upon him, he signified his willingness to trust him with the delivery of the dispatches. Writing a hasty description of the manner in which they had been obtained, he safely sewed the package and his letter in the lining of the messenger's coat, and fully instructed him as to how the papers should be delivered.
Webster was called upon before the meeting adjourned, and he replied in a few words of encouragement and compliment, which elicited the most sincere tokens of appreciation from his sable auditors.
After thanking the colored men for their kindness to him, Webster and Scobell descended from the improvised lodge-room, and Webster made his way back to the hotel, feeling quite relieved as to the safety of the dispatches, and fully confident that they would reach their destination in safety. He shortly afterwards retired to rest, fully satisfied with the day's work, and slept soundly until morning.
The trusty messenger arrived in Washington in due time, and I received from his hands the papers [357] intrusted to him. They were of a highly important nature, and conveyed information to the rebel authorities which would have been very dangerous had they reached their legitimate destination. As it was, through Webster's sagacity, Scobell's physical power, and the exertions of the President of the “Loyal League,” the traitor surgeon was prevented from assisting the cause of treason and rebellion, and as a bearer of dispatches, his first venture was far from being successful.
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| A hot chase. |
