The Boy Spy / A substantially true record of secret service during the war of the rebellion, a correct account of events witnessed by a soldier

by Joseph Orton Kerbey

I reluctantly started to walk out to their camp, talking familiarly and cordially on the way, as they did about their delight at finding me on the "right" side. I could not entertain the thought that these honest-hearted Texan youths, who had never before been so far from home, were capable of any trick—they were sincerely glad to see me. I felt instinctively that they were old friends and neighbors of my Texas uncle, who did not suspect me of being a Yankee Spy.

The road to the camp of the Texans led in the direction of Seven Pines (or Fair Oaks), where Johnston attacked McClellan's left in the following May, and the camp itself was not far from that point.

As we tramped along a pleasant chat was kept up, and though I was on the alert to hear if any suspicion attached to me for the Fort Pickens matter, nothing was said to indicate that either one had ever heard of the affair. They were, undoubtedly, sincere in their cordiality, and only desired to gratify their companions in camp with their success in having found one whom they all knew, so far away from their Texas homes.

In the talk, I gathered that one company in their regiment came from the neighborhood in which my uncle lived, and was composed principally of the very set of young fellows with whom I had been associated there only the previous winter. They gave me the names of a good many of the boys, and amused me with the accounts of the journey they had made from Texas to Virginia in search of the war. The fact of my having an uncle in the South would of itself have been sufficient indorsement for my "loyalty" with most of these fellows, but I recalled to myself that, while amongst them in Texas, I had got into trouble several times by my outspoken Northern sentiments during the Presidential campaign, which was then going on. The doctor probably referred to this when he congratulated me so heartily on having found me on the right side.

We finally reached the camp. I was marched up to the company quarters, and was generally recognized by the boys, who were as sincerely glad to see me as if I was just from their home. I was at home among them—everything was all right there, and I enjoyed renewing the friendship of a year previous. Among the boys was one fellow, to whom I referred in the introduction of this story, as having a difficulty with—the grandson of David Crockett, the hero of the Alamo. Young Crockett, like most of his class, had been taught to presume a little on the glory of his ancestors. This had made him somewhat personally disagreeable to his associates; but he kept away from me that day.

I remained in camp until after dress parade. It was a regiment of as fine a looking set of truly American men and boys as I have ever seen in either army. Their war record, as the Texas Rangers, will bear me out in this opinion. Their Colonel was afterward the famous General John B. Hood.

I was urged to stay for camp dinner. The boys, with whom I had so often before been in camps in Texas, while "rounding up" their stock, were all well up to the use of the camp-kettles and pots, and, with the advantages of the city close by them, they were able to get up in good style, first-class shape, one of the good old-style Western Texas dinners. We were having a good time all around. I was being urged to get a release from my Maryland Battery and join the Texas Brigade.

I saw that I could not very well keep up this dual character, the very cordiality of these fellows would lead to their visiting me up in the Maryland Battery, and, once there, things would become badly mixed up. I would never be able to explain to these Maryland fellows that I was in reality another fellow altogether, and it would cause some confusion in the Texas camp to have to explain the other way to my Texas friends.

These thoughts, however, detracted but little from the pleasure of my visit, for, as I felt that somehow or other I would get out of the difficulty, I did not concern myself for a moment.

It was a mistake to have accompanied the Texans to their camp. It was, to say the least, when there, very indiscreet to place myself on exhibition among the hundreds of other spectators who were grouped in front of the Texas regiment while they were having their Sunday dress parade.