Rodney, the Overseer

by Harry Castlemon

And this is a good place to say a word or two more about the situation at Baton Rouge, so that some events which we have yet to record may be made perfectly plain. On the 22d of the month (July) Flag-officer Davis made another attempt to destroy the Arkansas, but it resulted in failure. Two of his boats, the Essex and Queen of the West, were commanded to go down and sink her as she lay at her moorings under cover of the Confederate batteries, but her picked crew fought as bravely and skilfully now as they had done a week before. The Essex ran aground and remained there for ten minutes under fire so hot that it is a wonder she was not cut all to pieces; but she finally worked off and ran down to join Farragut, while the Queen of the West struggled back up the river to report the failure to Flag-officer Davis. The situation at this time was discouraging to our side. The gunboats were widely separated; the canal that was to make Vicksburg an inland town proved a failure; General Williams removed to Baton Rouge the small body of troops with which he had been co-operating with the naval forces; Commodore Davis went back to the mouth of the Yazoo and anchored there; and for full five months there was a lull in the operations against Vicksburg. But exciting things continued to happen in Rodney Gray's part of the country.

"To tell you the truth, we of the Army of the Centre always found more reliable information in your papers than we did in our own, and I suppose that these you have kindly given me will tell us all about the doings on the river," said Rodney, continuing the conversation we have broken off. "But I want to ask you one question before I go. My friend Dick wants to go to Little Rock. How is he going to get there?"

"I give it up," replied the captain.

"Do you think the commanding naval officer would permit him to cross the river if he showed his discharge!"

"He might, and then he might not. I can't say. Those navy men are fine fellows, the finest I think I ever saw; but they're so very particular that if I wanted to go to Little Rock, and if it was right that I should go, I wouldn't consult—I believe I should—well, I'd just go. That's all."

"Well, we will no longer trespass upon your time," said Rodney, getting upon his feet. "We are obliged to you for your kindness and courtesy, and if you ever come out our way, drop in and see us."

"I should be glad if I could accept half the invitations that have been given me by people hereabout," replied the captain. "But just now I can't. Any rebs out your way?"

"I don't expect you to come without an escort. There are soldiers at Camp Pinckney, and some of them have been seen in Mooreville."

"Good-by, if you must go; and remember that there are a few things which that permit does not authorize you to take through the lines."

Rodney said he would not forget it, and then he and Dick saluted and went into the outer room, which was filled with civilians and soldiers awaiting an audience with the provost marshal. After looking in vain for the corporal, they concluded that he had returned to camp, so they took the nearest way to the home of Mr. Martin, the gentleman under whose hospitable roof Rodney and his father were sojourning on the night that Ned Griffin rode in from Mooreville with the information that Drummond and Tom Randolph were laying plans to have Rodney arrested when he reached St. Louis. Mr. Martin was glad to see them, and made them feel at home at once. He laughed when they told him of their interview with the provost marshal, and, when Rodney declared that he'd like to see anybody treated with so much civility by an officer holding that position in Bragg's army, cautioned them to be careful how they trespassed upon the captain's good nature. The latter was cordial and friendly with everyone who had business with him, but he had a reputation as a fighter, had won all his promotions by his bravery on the field of battle, and had no mercy on civilians or soldiers who were caught disobeying his orders.