Marcy, the Refugee

by Harry Castlemon

Marcy followed the captain to the deck, and was greatly surprised by what he saw when he got there. There were wide openings in the hammock-nettings that he had not seen there in the morning, and the ports, through which two of the broadside guns worked, had been torn into one. Some of the standing rigging was not taut and ship-shape, as it ought to have been, but was flying loose in the breeze, and there were one or two dark spots on the deck which looked as though they had been drenched with water, and afterward sanded. Marcy's heart almost stopped beating when he saw these things, for they told him that the vessel had suffered during the fight, and that some of her crew had been killed or wounded, and he never knew it. But the sight of a flag which a gray-headed quartermaster was just hauling down from the masthead, drove gloomy thoughts out of his mind, and sent a thrill of triumph all through him. It was his own flag, and it had been floating over his head all day long. He took supper with Captain Benton, and afterward went below to see the poor fellows who had not come out of the fight as well as he did. Two of them were laid in the engine-room, covered with the flag in defense of which they had given up their lives, and four others were wounded. The sight was nothing to those that his rebel cousin, Rodney, the Partisan, had often witnessed on the field of battle; but it was enough to show Marcy Gray that there was a terrible reality in war.

The next day was the army's. The battle began at seven in the morning; and although the gunboats, Captain Benton's among the rest, did the work they were expected to do and succeeded in passing the obstructions shortly after noon, the heaviest of the fighting was done by the soldiers. The Confederate flag went down before the sun did, and twenty-five hundred prisoners, forty heavy guns, and three thousand stand of small arms fell into the hands of the victors. The Confederate fleet endeavored to escape by running up the Pasquotank river to Elizabeth City, Commodore Lynch thinking no doubt that he would there find re-enforcements, which could easily have been sent from Portsmouth; but if they were there they did not do him any good, for Captain Rowan followed him into the river the next day, and destroyed his entire squadron with the exception of one boat which was captured and transferred to the Union fleet. After demolishing a portion of the Dismal Swamp canal, Captain Rowan went to Edenton, Winton, and Plymouth, all of which were captured without resistance that amounted to anything, and garrisoned by troops from Burnside's army.

The historian says that the results of this expedition "in a military point of view, were considerable; but those of a political character did not answer the expectations of the Federal government." It was believed that the occupation of these points would not only be the means of stopping the contraband trade, which was kept up in spite of the blockading fleet, but that it would also "keep in countenance the partisans of the Union, who were thought to be numerous in North Carolina." When the capture of Newbern, Beaufort, and forts Macon and Pulaski, which followed close on the heels of the reduction of Roanoke Island, put all the coast north of Wilmington into the hands of the Federals, blockade running indeed became a dangerous and uncertain business; but Marcy Gray could not see that the native Unionists were in any way benefited. To begin with, General Burnside released all his prisoners after compelling them to take oath that they would never again serve against the United States. Does any one suppose that the prisoners had any intention of keeping that promise, or that the Confederate government would have permitted them to keep it if they had been so disposed? It is true that some of these rebel soldiers had had quite enough of the army, and vowed that they would take to the swamps before they would enter it again; but it is also true that the most of them, when they returned to their homes, became determined and relentless foes of all Union men. So the conquest of Roanoke Island gave Marcy Gray more enemies to stand in fear of than he had before; but it had a still worse effect upon his affairs.

It was night when the soldiers that were to take possession of Plymouth and garrison the place were sent ashore from the transports. Marcy stood on the bridge, watching them as they disembarked, and wondering how long it would be before Captain Benton would tell him that his services were no longer needed and that he might return to his home; and, while he watched and thought, he discovered a small party of men on shore with bundles in their hands or on their shoulders, and who acted as though they were waiting for a chance to come off to the fleet. He knew, as soon as he looked at them, that they were Union men who were about to take the opportunity thus presented to enlist under the old flag.

"That is who they are," thought Marcy, after he had kept his binoculars pointed at them for a minute or two. "They can't be anything else, for they are in citizens' clothes. Now, in trying to better their own condition, are they not making matters worse for their families, if they have any? I wonder if I am acquainted with any of them? I will soon know, for they are heading for this ship."

The boats belonging to Captain Benton's vessel had been engaged, with all the other boats of the fleet, in taking the soldiers to the shore, and when they placed their last load of bluecoats upon the bank and were ready to return to their ship, they brought the party of which we have spoken off with them. As the leading boat drew nearer to the side, so that Marcy could obtain a fairer view of the man who sat in the stern-sheets talking to the coxswain, he uttered a cry of surprise and alarm, and almost let his glass fall from his hand. The man was Aleck Webster.

CHAPTER XII.

HOME AGAIN.

Marcy Gray waited until the boat drew a little nearer, and then looked again. There could be no mistake about it. The man in the stern-sheets with the coxswain was Aleck Webster, the one who had promised to have an eye on Marcy and his mother while Jack was at sea, and those who composed his party were men whom Marcy met at the post-office almost as often as he went there. If they were coming off to enlist, as Marcy thought they were, wouldn't that break up the band who held meetings in the swamp? And if that band should be broken up, who would there be to stand between his mother and the wrath of Captain Beardsley? These questions and others like them passed through the boy's mind, as he came down from the bridge and stepped to the gangway to meet Aleck and his friends when they came on board. Aleck was the first to get out of the boat and mount the ladder, and when he reached the top, where the officer of the deck was standing, he touched his hat and said:

"We want to ship, sir."