Brother Against Brother; Or, The War on the Border
by Oliver Optic · English · Gutenberg #35206 · 496,553 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Brother Against Brother; Or, The War on the Border
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Brother Against Brother; Or, The War on the Border
Author: Oliver Optic
Release date: February 7, 2011 [eBook #35206]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35206
Credits: E-text prepared by David Garcia, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Kentuckiana Digital Library (http://kdl.kyvl.org/)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER; OR, THE WAR ON THE BORDER ***
E-text prepared by David Garcia, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
available by Kentuckiana Digital Library (http://kdl.kyvl.org/)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 35206-h.htm or 35206-h.zip:
(https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/35206/pg35206-images.html)
or
(https://www.gutenberg.org/files/35206/35206-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Kentuckiana Digital Library. See
http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;view=toc;idno=b92-168-30116834
BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
Or, The War on the Border
_The Blue and the Gray Army Series_
by
OLIVER OPTIC
Author of "The Army and Navy Series" "Young America Abroad, First and
Second Series" "Boat-Club Stories" "The Great Western Series" "The
Onward and Upward Series" "The Woodville Stories" "The Starry Flag
Series" "The Yacht-Club Series" "The Lake Shore Series" "The Riverdale
Stories" "The All-Over-the-World Library" "The Blue and the Gray Navy
Series" "The Boat-Builder Series" etc.
Boston
Lee and Shepard Publishers
10 Milk Street
1894
Copyright, 1894, by Lee and Shepard
All Rights Reserved
BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
Electrotyping by C. J. Peters & Son, Boston, U.S.A.
Presswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co.
TO
My Son-in-Law
GEORGE W. WHITE, ESQUIRE
ONE OF TWO WHO HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE SAME TO
ME AS REAL SONS
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY AND GRATEFULLY
DEDICATED
[Illustration: "THE OVERSEER ELEVATED HIS RIFLE."]
PREFACE
"Brother Against Brother" is the first of "The Blue and the Gray Army
Series," which will include six volumes, though the number is contingent
upon the longevity of one, still hale and hearty, who has passed by a
couple of years the Scriptural limit of "threescore years and ten"
allotted to human life. In completing the first six books of "The Blue
and the Gray Series," the author realized that the scenes and events of
all these stories related to life in the navy, which gallantly performed
its full share in maintaining the integrity of the Union. The six books
of "The Army and Navy Series," begun in the heat of the struggle thirty
years ago, were equally divided between the two arms of the service; and
it has been suggested that the equilibrium should be continued in the
later volumes.
In the preface of "A Victorious Union," the consummation of the terrible
strife which the navy had reached in that volume, the author announced
his intention to make a beginning of the books which are to form the
army division of the series. Soon after he had returned from his
sixteenth voyage across the Atlantic, he found himself in excellent
condition to resume the pleasurable occupation in which he has been
engaged for forty years in this particular field. It seems to him very
much like embarking in a new enterprise, though his work consists of an
attempt to enliven and diversify the scenes and incidents of an old
story which has passed into history, and is forever embalmed as the
record of a heroic people, faithfully and bravely represented on
hundreds of gory battle-fields, and on the decks of the national navy.
The story opens in one of the Border States, where two Northern families
had settled only a few years before the exciting questions which
immediately preceded organized hostilities were under discussion.
Considerable portions of the State in which they were located were in a
condition of violent agitation, and outrages involving wounds and death
were perpetrated. The head of one of these two families was a man of
stern integrity, earnestly loyal to the Union and the government which
was forced into a deadly strife for its very existence. That of the
other, influenced quite as much by property considerations as by fixed
principles, becomes a Secessionist, fully as earnest as, and far more
demonstrative than, his brother on the other side.
In each of these families are two sons, just coming to the military age,
who are not quite so prominent in the present volume as they will be in
those which follow it. "Riverlawn," the plantation which came into the
possession of the loyal one by the will of his eldest brother, became
the scene of very exciting events, in which his two sons took an active
part. The writer has industriously examined the authorities covering
this section of the country, including State reports, and believes he
has not exaggerated the truths of history. As in preceding volumes
relating to the war, he does not intend to give a connected narrative of
the events that transpired in the locality he has chosen, though some of
them are introduced and illustrated in the story.
The State itself, as evidenced by the votes of its Legislature and by
the enlistments in the Union army, was loyal, if not from the beginning,
from the time when it obtained its bearings. As in other Southern
States, the secession element was more noisy and demonstrative than the
loyal portion of the community, and thus obtained at first an apparent
advantage. The present volume is largely taken up with the conflict for
supremacy between these hostile elements. The loyal father and his two
sons are active in these scenes; and the taking possession of a quantity
of military supplies by them precipitates actual warfare, and the
question as to whether or not a company of cavalry could be recruited at
Riverlawn had to be settled by what amounted to a real battle.
To the multitude of his young friends now in their teens, and to the
greater multitude now grown gray, who have encouraged his efforts during
the last forty years, the author renewedly acknowledges his manifold
obligations for their kindness, and wishes them all health, happiness,
and all the prosperity they can bear.
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
DORCHESTER, July 4, 1894.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. TROUBLESOME TIMES IN KENTUCKY
CHAPTER II. SOMETHING ABOUT THE LYON FAMILY
CHAPTER III. A NORTHERN FAMILY IN KENTUCKY
CHAPTER IV. THE ARRIVAL AND WELCOME AT RIVERLAWN
CHAPTER V. THE DISTRESS OF MRS. TITUS LYON
CHAPTER VI. THE NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE CREEK
CHAPTER VII. A STORMY INTERVIEW ON THE BRIDGE
CHAPTER VIII. AN OVERWHELMING ARGUMENT
CHAPTER IX. A MOST UNREASONABLE BROTHER
CHAPTER X. THE SINK-CAVERN NEAR BAR CREEK
CHAPTER XI. AROUSED TO THE SOLEMN DUTY OF THE HOUR
CHAPTER XII. THE NIGHT EXPEDITION IN THE MAGNOLIA
CHAPTER XIII. AT THE HEAD WATERS OF BAR CREEK
CHAPTER XIV. THE TRANSPORTATION OF THE ARMS
CHAPTER XV. THE ESTABLISHMENT OF FORT BEDFORD
CHAPTER XVI. THE UNION MEETING AT BIG BEND
CHAPTER XVII. THE EJECTION OF THE NOISY RUFFIANS
CHAPTER XVIII. THE DEMAND OF CAPTAIN TITUS LYON
CHAPTER XIX. THE CONFERENCE IN FORT BEDFORD
CHAPTER XX. THE APPROACH OF THE RUFFIAN FORCES
CHAPTER XXI. THE BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES
CHAPTER XXII. THE FIRST SHOT FROM FORT BEDFORD
CHAPTER XXIII. THE PARTY ATTACKED IN THE CROSS-CUT
CHAPTER XXIV. THE ENCOUNTER WITH THE RUFFIANS
CHAPTER XXV. THE GRATITUDE OF TWO FAIR MAIDENS
CHAPTER XXVI. THE SKIRMISH ON THE NEW ROAD
CHAPTER XXVII. AN UNEXPLAINED GATHERING ON THE ROAD
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE RESULT OF THE FLANK MOVEMENT
CHAPTER XXIX. THE HUMILIATING RETREAT OF THE RUFFIANS
CHAPTER XXX. LEVI BEDFORD AND HIS PRISONER
CHAPTER XXXI. DR. FALKIRK VISITS RIVERLAWN
CHAPTER XXXII. THE ARRIVAL OF THE RECRUITING OFFICER
CHAPTER XXXIII. ONE AGAINST THREE ON THE ROAD
CHAPTER XXXIV. THE FIRE THAT WAS STARTED AT RIVERLAWN
CHAPTER XXXV. A BATTLE IN PROSPECT ON THE CREEK
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE SECOND BATTLE OF RIVERLAWN
ILLUSTRATIONS
"THE OVERSEER ELEVATED HIS RIFLE"
"THEN YOU MEAN I AM DRUNK"
"HE GRAPPLED WITH THE FELLOW"
"I HAD TO BE CAREFUL NOT TO HIT THE LADY"
"IT WON'T GO OFF AGAIN UNTIL YOU LOAD IT"
"STOP, BOY! SHOUTED THE MAN"
"THE BOYS CLIMBED A BIG TREE TO OBTAIN A BETTER VIEW"
BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
CHAPTER I
TROUBLESOME TIMES IN KENTUCKY
"Neutrality! There is no such thing as neutrality in the present
situation, my son!" protested Noah Lyon to the stout boy of sixteen who
stood in front of him on the bridge over Bar Creek, in the State of
Kentucky. "He that is not for the Union is against it. No man can serve
two masters, Dexter."
"That is just what I was saying to Sandy," replied the boy, whom
everybody but his father and mother called "Deck."
"Your Cousin Alexander takes after his father, who is my own brother;
but I must say I am ashamed of him, for he is a rank Secessionist,"
continued Noah Lyon, fixing his gaze on the planks of the bridge, and
looking as grieved as though one of his own blood had turned against
him. "He was born and brought up in New Hampshire, where about all the
people believe in the Union as they do in their own mothers, and a
traitor would be ridden on a rail out of almost any town within its
borders."
"Well, it isn't so down here in the State of Kentucky, father," answered
Deck.
"Kentucky was the second new State to be admitted to the Union of the
original thirteen, and there are plenty of people now within her borders
who protest that it will be the last to leave it," replied the father,
as he took a crumpled newspaper from his pocket. "Here's a little piece
from a Clarke County paper which is just the opinion of a majority of
the people of Kentucky. Read it out loud, Dexter," added Mr. Lyon, as he
handed the paper to his son, and pointed out the article.
The young man took the paper, and read in a loud voice, as though he
wished even the fishes in the creek to hear it, and to desire them to
refuse to be food for Secessionists: "Any attempt on the part of the
government of this State, or any one else, to put Kentucky out of the
Union by force, or using force to compel Union men in any manner to
submit to an ordinance of secession, or any pretended resolution or
decree arising from such secession, is an act of treason against the
State of Kentucky. It is therefore lawful to resist any such ordinance."
"That's the doctrine!" exclaimed Mr. Lyons, clapping his hands with a
ringing sound to emphasize his opinion. "Those are my sentiments
exactly, and they are political gospel to me; and I should be ashamed of
any son of mine who did not stand by the Union, whether he lived in New
Hampshire or Kentucky."
"You can count me in for the Union every time, father," said Deck, who
had read all the newspapers, those from the North and of the State in
which he resided, as well as the history of Kentucky and the current
exciting documents that were floating about the country, including the
long and illogical letter of the State's senator who immediately became
a Confederate brigadier.
"I haven't heard your Cousin Artie, who is just your age, and old enough
to do something on his own account, say much about the troubles of the
times," added Mr. Lyon, bestowing an inquiring look upon his son. "I
have seen Sandy Lyon talking to him a good deal lately, and I hope he is
not leading him astray."
"No danger of that; for Artie is as stiff as a cart-stake for the Union,
and Sandy can't pour any Secession molasses down his back," replied
Deck.
"I am glad to hear it. I heard some one say that Sandy had joined, or
was going to join, the Home Guards."
"He asked me to join them, and wanted me to go down to Bowling Green
with him in the boat. He had already put his name down as a member of a
company; but of course I wouldn't go."
"The Home Guards thrive very well in Bar Creek; and I noticed that all
who joined them are Secessionists, or have a leaning that way," added
the father. "The avowed purpose of these organizations is to preserve
the neutrality of the State; but that is only another name for treason;
and when affairs have progressed a little farther, the Home Guards will
wheel into the ranks of the Confederate army. President Lincoln made a
very guarded and non-committal reply to the Governor's letter on
neutrality; but it is as plain as the nose on a toper's face that he
don't believe in it."
"I think it is best to be on one side or the other."
"Isn't Sandy trying to rope Artie into the Home Guards, Dexter?" asked
Mr. Lyon with an anxious look on his face.
"Of course he is, as he has tried to get me to join."
"Artie is a quiet sort of a boy, and don't say much; but it is plain
that he keeps up a tremendous thinking all the time, though I have not
been able to make out what it is all about."
"He is considering just what all the rest of us are thinking about; but
I am satisfied that he has come out just where all the rest of us at
Riverlawn have arrived, father. He and I have talked a great deal about
the war; and Artie is all right now, though he may have had some doubts
about where he belonged a few months ago."
"But Sandy was over here no longer ago than yesterday, and he was
talking for over an hour with Artie on this bridge where we are now,"
said Mr. Lyon.
"They were talking about the Union meeting to be held to-morrow night at
the schoolhouse by the Big Bend," added Deck.
"What interest has Sandy in that meeting? He does not train in that
company."
"He advised Artie not to go to the meeting, for it was gotten up by
traitors to their State."
"That's a Secessionist phrase which he borrowed from some Confederate
orator, or at Bowling Green, where he spends too much of his time; and
his father had better be teaching him how to lay bricks and mix mortar."
"But Uncle Titus is over there half his time," suggested Deck.
"He had better be attending to his business; for the people over at the
village say they will have to get another mason to settle there, for
your Uncle Titus don't work half his time, and the people can't get
their jobs done. There is a new house over there waiting for him to
build the chimney."
"Why don't you talk to him, father?" asked Deck very seriously.
"Talk to him, Dexter!" exclaimed Mr. Lyon. "You might as well set your
dog to barking at the rapids in the river. For some reason Titus seems
to be rather set against me since we settled in Barcreek. We used to be
on the best of terms in New Hampshire, for I always lent him money when
he was hard pressed. I don't know what has come over him since we came
to Kentucky."
"I do," added Deck, looking earnestly into his father's face.
"Well, what is it, I should like to know? I have always done everything
I could since I came here for him."
"Sandy told me something about it one day, and seemed to have a good
deal of feeling about it. He says you wronged Uncle Titus out of five
thousand dollars," said Deck, wondering if his father had ever heard the
charge before.
"I know what Sandy meant. Of course Titus must have been in the habit of
talking about this matter in his family, or Sandy would not have known
anything about it," replied Mr. Lyon, evidently very much annoyed at the
revelation of his son.
"I did not know what Sandy meant, and I thought I had better not ask
him; for of course I knew there was not a particle of truth in the
charge," added Deck, surprised to find that his father knew something
about the accusation.
"I don't talk with my children about troublesome family matters, Dexter,
and your Uncle Titus ought not to do so. I shall only say that there is
not the slightest grain of reason or justice in the charge against me;
and Titus knows it as well as I do. If anybody has wronged him, it was
your deceased Uncle Duncan. Let the matter drop there, at least for the
present. Why does Sandy wish to prevent Artie from attending the Union
meeting to-morrow night?"
"He said it was likely to be broken up by the Home Guards."
"Then he probably knows something about a plot to interfere with the
gathering. I rode up to the village this morning, and I was quite
surprised to find that several whom I knew to be loyal men did not
intend to be present. When I urged them to be there, they hinted that
there would be trouble at the schoolhouse."
At this moment a bell was rung at the side-door of the mansion, about
ten rods from the bridge where the father and son had been discussing
the situation. It crossed the creek a quarter of a mile from the river,
which has a course of three hundred miles through the State, and is
navigable from the Ohio two-thirds of its length during the season of
high water. The mansion was the residence of Noah Lyon; and after the
green field, ornamented with stately trees, which extended from the
house to the river, it had taken the name of "Riverlawn" in the time of
the former proprietor. The plantation extended along the creek more than
half a mile, including over five hundred acres of the richest land in
the State.
Above the bridge was a little village of negro houses, so neat and
substantial that they deserved a better name than "huts," generally
given to the dwellings of the slaves of a plantation. Each had its
little garden, fenced off and well cared for. It was evident that the
occupants of these cottages were subjected to few if any of the
hardships of their condition. Many of them were just returning from the
hemp fields and the horse pastures of the estate; and they seemed to be
happy and contented, with no care for the troubles that were then
agitating the State.
The bell had been rung at the side-door of the mansion by a black woman,
very neatly dressed. Back of the dwelling was the kitchen in a separate
building, according to the custom at the South. Mr. Lyon, though he was
the present proprietor of this extensive estate, was dressed in very
plain clothes, and had none of the air of a Kentucky gentleman. Deck was
clothed in the same manner; but both of them looked very neat and very
respectable in spite of their plain clothes.
They came from the bridge at the sound of the bell. On the left of the
entrance was the dining-room, a large apartment, with the table set for
dinner in the middle of it. Two young octoroon girls were standing by
the chairs to wait upon the family, which consisted of six persons.
"You have been shopping this forenoon, haven't you, Ruth?" asked Mr.
Lyon, addressing his wife, who was seated at one end of the table while
he was at the other.
"I did not do much shopping; but I called upon Amelia, and found her
very much troubled," replied Mrs. Lyon, alluding to the wife of Titus
Lyon.
"I should think she might be troubled," replied Mr. Lyon. "She does not
take any part in politics; but one of her brothers is a captain in a New
Hampshire regiment, and another is a major, and all her family are loyal
to the backbone. She has not said much of anything, but I know she does
not approve the attitude of her husband and her two sons. The last time
I saw her, she was afraid they would enlist in the Confederate army.
Titus won't hear a word of objection from her."
"She told me an astonishing piece of news this forenoon," continued Mrs.
Lyon.
"I shall not be much astonished at anything Titus does," added the
husband. "But what has he done now? Has he enlisted in the Confederate
army?"
"Not yet; but Amelia says he has been offered the command of a company
of Home Guards if he will pay for the arms and uniform of it. He agreed
to do so, and has already paid over the money, five thousand dollars."
"Is it possible!" exclaimed Mr. Lyon; and the two boys dropped their
knives and forks in their astonishment. "I did not think he would go as
far as that. He could not be a ranker Secessionist if he had lived all
his life in South Carolina, instead of nine or ten years in Kentucky."
"This happened a month ago, and Amelia says the arms are hidden
somewhere on the river."
"Does she know where?"
"She did not tell me where if she knew. More than this, she says he is
drinking too much whiskey, and that the Secessionists have made a fool
of him. She is afraid he will throw away all his property."
"I have noticed several times that he has been drinking too much, though
he was not exactly intoxicated."
"Oh! Amelia said he meant to make you pay for the arms and uniforms,"
said Mrs. Lyon, with some excitement in her manner. "He insists that you
owe him five thousand dollars."
"If I did, he gives me a good excuse for not paying it; but I do not owe
him a nickel. Home Guards and Confederates here are all the same; and no
money of mine shall go for arming either of them."
"Titus's wife says you are denounced as an abolitionist, Noah, and they
will drive you out of the county soon," added Mrs. Lyon.
"When they are ready to begin, I shall be there," replied Mr. Lyon with
a smile.
The dinner was finished, and the family separated, Deck and his father
returning to the bridge, followed by Artie.
CHAPTER II
SOMETHING ABOUT THE LYON FAMILY
The grand mansion and the extensive domain of Riverlawn had been
occupied by the Lyon family hardly more than a year when the political
excitement in Kentucky began to manifest itself, though not so violently
as in some of the more southern States. Abraham Lincoln had been elected
President of the United States, and south of Mason and Dixon's line he
was regarded as a sectional president whose term of office would be a
menace and an absolute peril to the institution of slavery. Senator
Crittenden of Kentucky proposed certain amendments to the Constitution
to restore the Missouri Compromise, by which slavery should be confined
to specified limits, and Congress prevented from interfering with the
labor-system of the South.
Before Christmas in 1860, South Carolina had unanimously passed its
Ordinance of Secession, the intelligence of which was received with
enthusiasm by the Gulf States, all of which soon followed her example.
The more conservative States held back, and all but the four on the
border seceded in one form or another after some delay.
In Kentucky the wealthy planters and slaveholders, with many prominent
exceptions, were inclined to share the lot of the seceding States; but
the majority of the people still clung to the Union. Both sides of the
exciting question were largely represented, and the contest between them
was violent and bitter. For a time the specious compromise of neutrality
was regarded as the panacea for the troubles of the State by the less
violent of the people on both sides. Home Guards were enlisted and
organized to protect the territory from invasion by either the Federal
or the Confederate forces.
The occupation of Columbus and Hickman on the Mississippi River by
Southern troops, immediately followed by the taking of Paducah by
General Grant with two regiments of Union soldiers from Cairo,
practically dissolved the illusion of neutrality. The government at
Washington never recognized this makeshift of those who loved the Union,
but desired to protect slavery. It was honestly and sincerely cherished
by good men of both parties, who desired to preserve the Union and save
the State from the horrors of civil war.
The government did not regard the seceded States as so many independent
sovereignties, as the Secessionists claimed that they were, but as part
and parcel of a union of States forming one consolidated nation, with no
provision in its Constitution for a separation of any kind, or for the
withdrawal of one or more of the individual members of the Union. The
States which had pretended to dissolve their connection with the other
members of the compact were considered as refractory members of the
Union, in a state of insurrection against the sovereign authority of the
nation, who were to be reduced to obedience and subjection by force of
arms; for they had appealed to the logic of bayonets and cannon-balls in
carrying out their disruption.
With the duty of putting down the insurrection and subduing the
refractory elements in the South on its hands, the government could not
respect or even tolerate a neutrality which placed the State of
Kentucky, four hundred miles in extent from east to west, between the
loyal and the disloyal sections of its domain. If for no other purpose,
armies of Federal troops must cross the country south of the Ohio in
order to reach the seat of the Rebellion.
The Home Guards were powerless to prevent the passage of the loyal
armies through the State; and any attempt to do so would have been to
fight the battle of the Confederate armies, and would have at once
robbed neutrality of its transparent mask. A portion of these military
bodies were doubtless honest in their intentions. Those who were not for
the Union in this connection were practically against it. Later in the
course of events, the Home Guards were incorporated in the armies of the
Rebellion; and no doubt these organizations were used to a considerable
extent to recruit the forces of the enemy.
For a period of several months the State was not in actual possession of
either party in the conflict. One was struggling within its territory to
keep it in the Union, and the other to force it into the Southern
Confederacy. Irresponsible persons formed what they called a
"Provisional Council," elected a governor, and sent delegates to the
Confederate Congress, who were admitted to seats in that body.
During this chaotic state of affairs, Kentuckians were joining both
armies, though the great body of them enlisted in the forces of the
Union. At the close of 1861 it was estimated that Kentucky had
twenty-six thousand men, cavalry and infantry, enrolled to fight the
battles of the loyal nation, including those who had joined the
regiments of other States.
Deeds of violence were not uncommon in many parts of the State, growing
out of the excited state of feeling. Confederate emissaries were busy in
the territory, and armed bodies of them foraged for provisions and
fodder in the southern portions. Unpopular men were hunted down and shot
or hanged, and the reign of disorder prevailed. Such was the condition
of Kentucky soon after the Lyon family took possession of Riverlawn; and
some account of its several members becomes necessary.
The first of the name in America had been one of the earliest English
settlers in Massachusetts; but one of his descendants, more than a
hundred years later, had moved to the colony of New Hampshire. Early in
the present century, one of his grandchildren was a farmer in Derry, in
that State. This particular Lyon had four sons, two of whom have already
been mentioned in this story.
Duncan Lyon was the eldest of them, and seems to have been the most
enterprising of the four; for he emigrated to Kentucky, and purchased
the extensive tract of land which now formed the estate of Riverlawn. He
became a planter in due time from his small beginnings, raising hemp,
tobacco, and horses, without neglecting the productions necessary for
the support of his household. He was very prosperous in his
undertakings; and being a man of good sense and excellent judgment, he
became a person of some distinction in his county. He was known as
"Colonel Duncan Lyon," though he never held any military position; but
his title clung to him, and even his brothers in New Hampshire always
spoke of him as the "colonel."
He never married; but he made a modest fortune of one hundred thousand
dollars, including the value of his estate, though not including the
value of about fifty negroes, men, women, and children, which for some
reason he never disclosed, he did not put into the inventory that
accompanied his will.
The colonel's estate was on Bar Creek, at its junction with Green River.
One mile from Riverlawn was the village of Barcreek, a place with three
churches, several stores, a blacksmith's and a wheelwright's shop, with
a carpenter and a mason. It supplied the needs of the country in a
circuit of eight or ten miles. In fact, it was a sort of market town.
There was not a great deal of building done in this region; but the
mason residing there had made a comfortable living, jobbing and erecting
an occasional chimney, till he died in 1852. The colonel notified his
brother, Titus Lyon, who was a mason in Derry, that there was an opening
for one of his trade in Barcreek, but he could not advise him to move
there.
Titus was not a prosperous man; for he was rather lazy, and greatly
lacking in enterprise. The colonel did not believe he would do any
better in a new home than in the old one, and he bluntly wrote to him to
this effect. The planter had a suspicion that his brother drank too much
whiskey, for he could not account for his poverty in any other way; but
he had no evidence on the point. Titus decided to move to Kentucky; and
he did so, though he had to borrow the money of his brother Noah to
enable him to reach his new home.
Business in his trade happened to be usually good after his arrival, and
for several years he did tolerably well. Then he desired to buy a house
and some land which were for sale in Barcreek. The colonel loaned him
five thousand dollars for this purpose, and to pay off his note to Noah,
mortgaging the estate he had purchased as security.
From this time Titus did not do as well as before. He seemed to regard
himself as a landed proprietor, and the equal of the planters of
Kentucky. He neglected his work, feeling rather above it, negroes doing
most of the jobs in his line. He employed a couple of them, but they did
not earn their wages. The colonel had to help him out several times.
As a planter in good standing among his neighbors in the county, Colonel
Lyon, who was not a profound thinker, fell in with the views and
opinions of those in his grade of society. He was not a strong
pro-slavery man, but he owned half a hundred negroes, who had been
necessary to enable him to carry on his planting operations; but he
treated them as well as though he had paid them wages.
He was not inclined to make any issue with his neighbors on the labor
question, though some of them thought he was not entirely reliable on
this subject. He attended to his business, and did not vex his spirit
over extraneous matters. When the protection of the South against the
aggressions of the North in connection with slavery was agitated, he
followed his Kentucky leaders.
On the question of any interference on the part of Congress or the
people of the free States he had very decided opinions. If he had ever
intended to manumit his negroes, as had been hinted in the county, no
one could object to his position after the subject began to be agitated
in the State. After eight years' residence in Barcreek, his brother
Titus was a more thorough-going pro-slavery man than the planter; in
fact, he had had a strong tendency in that direction when he lived in
Derry.
Titus's wife was not a happy woman in her domestic relations. She was
better educated than her husband, and emphatically more sensible; and
she could not help seeing that Titus was frittering away his
opportunities, drinking too much whiskey, and associating with reckless
and unprincipled characters. Their two sons, Alexander and Orlando, were
following in the footsteps of their father. Even the three daughters had
imbibed strange notions from their associates, and belonged on the
Secession side of the house.
Colonel Lyon was not permitted to witness the wild disorder which
pervaded the State after the election of the Republican President; for
he died suddenly in a fit of apoplexy, after he had eaten his Christmas
dinner, in 1858. He was only fifty years old, and perhaps if he had
taken more exercise and been more prudent in his eating and drinking, he
might have taken part in the stormy events of the later period.
Colonel Cosgrove, a prominent lawyer residing at the county seat, and an
intimate friend of the deceased, was present at the funeral. Titus took
charge of the affairs of the mansion, and the lawyer intimated to him
that he should be present at Riverlawn the next morning to carry out the
wishes and intentions of his departed friend.
Titus did not understand this notice, and supposed that the duty of
settling the estate of his brother rested entirely upon him. Colonel
Cosgrove came as he had promised, with a will in his hands, of which he
had been the custodian. He proceeded to read it without any ceremony,
Titus being the only other person present.
The deceased valued his property at one hundred thousand dollars,
Riverlawn being placed at twenty-five thousand, the rest being in cash,
stocks, and other securities. The estate, including the negroes,
everything in the house or connected with the place, and ten thousand
dollars, half cash and half stocks, were given to Noah Lyon. The
document explained that he gave the money and stocks to Noah, because he
had supported and brought up the two children of his deceased brother
Cyrus.
To his brother Titus he gave twenty-five thousand dollars, including the
mortgage note he held against him, half the balance in cash, and half in
stocks and bonds. To his brother Noah, in trust for the two children of
his brother Cyrus, deceased, twenty-five thousand dollars, to be paid
over to them when they were of age. Colonel Cosgrove said the deceased
had apportioned the stocks as they were to be given to the legatees, and
the money was in the county bank. He would come to Barcreek in about a
week to pay over the cash, and deliver the stocks to Titus.
The lawyer was appointed executor of the estate, and he would hold the
property given to Noah Lyon until he came to receive it, or made other
arrangements in regard to it. Then he showed a letter, with a great seal
upon it, which he had been directed to deliver to Noah in person. Titus
wanted to know what the letter was about; but if the lawyer knew its
contents, he avoided making any revelation.
It was evident to Colonel Cosgrove that Titus was dissatisfied with the
will, for a heavy frown had rested on his brow since the reading of the
first item of the instrument; but he said nothing, and very abruptly
left the legal gentleman.
CHAPTER III
A NORTHERN FAMILY IN KENTUCKY
Titus's eldest daughter, Mildred, had written to her Uncle Noah in New
Hampshire the particulars of the death of his brother after the fact had
been telegraphed to him by Colonel Cosgrove. The letter was hardly more
than an announcement of the decease of her Kentucky uncle, and the date
of the funeral. It was not possible for Noah to reach Barcreek in season
to be present at the last rites; but he wrote to Titus without delay.
A few days after the telegram a letter from Colonel Cosgrove, the
executor, came to Noah Lyon, containing a copy of the will of his
brother. The lawyer, who had been the intimate friend and confidant of
Colonel Lyon, wrote with entire freedom to the distant brother. He
stated that his deceased friend had little confidence in Titus, and in
Barcreek he was not considered as an entirely reliable man.
The most important item in the letter was that Colonel Lyon had passed a
whole day with him only a week before his death, talking most of the
time about his estate. He had lived at Riverlawn twenty-five years, had
developed the place from a wilderness, and was very much attached to it.
In his will he had left it to Noah, and he desired that he should move
to Kentucky and take possession of the estate.
It required a week of consideration in the comfortable home of the Derry
farmer, in which the children, their own and the adopted ones, took
part, before a conclusion could be reached; but it was a compliance with
the request of Colonel Lyon. Within a year before his death the planter
had spent a month with the New Hampshire farmer, during which he had
told him all about his estate and his surroundings at Barcreek. They had
not met before since the elder brother first went to Kentucky; and the
Kentuckian formed a very high opinion of his New England brother, which
was quite in contrast with his estimate of Titus, who had been his
neighbor for six years.
The colonel's will was dated within two months of this visit, and
doubtless he was thinking of his last testament when he went to New
Hampshire. As soon as it was settled that the family should make their
home in Kentucky, Noah wrote a long letter to his only surviving
brother, announcing his intention to leave Barcreek as soon as he could
settle up his business in Derry. He expressed himself with all brotherly
kindness, and was glad that they were again to live near each other.
Titus did not even reply to this letter, though his wife wrote to Mrs.
Noah, expressing the pleasure she felt that they were again to be
neighbors. It was about two months after the death of Colonel Lyon that
Noah and his family arrived at Bowling Green, the county town, which was
the nearest railroad station to Barcreek, fifteen miles distant. Noah
Lyon had kept up his correspondence with the executor of his brother,
and Colonel Cosgrove was at the station when the family arrived. Titus
was not there, and he did not manifest much interest in the coming of
his only remaining brother.
The distinguished lawyer extended a hearty welcome to the family, and
invited them all to dinner at his mansion. He wondered that Titus or
some member of his family was not there to greet the new-comers; but he
said little about him, though enough to show that he had not a very
exalted opinion of him.
"You will find the mansion of your late brother in perfect order, Mr.
Lyon," said Colonel Cosgrove, as they rose from the dinner-table. "I was
over there yesterday, and satisfied myself that every thing was in
condition for your reception. The furniture remains just as it was in
the time of Colonel Lyon."
"You have been very kind, Colonel Cosgrove, and I am very grateful to
you for all the attention you have given to my brother's affairs and to
me," replied Noah, taking the hand of the hospitable executor. "Does my
brother Titus live near Riverlawn?"
"About a mile from it, in the village of Barcreek," answered the lawyer.
"Your brother, the colonel, had several boats; and when he went to the
village in the open season he usually made the trip by the river, rowed
by half a dozen of his boys."
"I was not aware that he had any boys," added Noah.
"His hands, his negroes; and he always called them boys. He was the best
friend they ever had," the colonel explained. "That reminds me that I
have a letter which your late brother required me to deliver personally
into your hands;" and the lawyer went to his office for it.
He returned in a few minutes, and gave the letter, which was heavily
sealed with wax, to the new owner of Riverlawn. He had mentioned this
epistle in one of his letters to the new proprietor, and Noah wondered
as he looked upon its elaborate seals what could be the subject of the
communication. The colonel was speaking of the boys, which reminded him
of the letter; and he suspected that it had some connection with the
negroes. He put it in his pocket very carefully, and then looked at his
watch.
"How far is it from this town to Barcreek?" he asked, still holding the
watch in his hand.
"Fifteen miles; and as the roads are not in the best condition at this
season of the year, it will take about two hours and a half to make the
trip," replied the lawyer. "But it is only two o'clock, and you have
plenty of time."
"But I must look up a conveyance," suggested the new proprietor of
Riverlawn.
"A conveyance is all ready for you, Mr. Lyon," added the colonel. "I
directed Mr. Bedford to come over for you and your family, and he has
been here since nine o'clock this morning. He came with the road-wagon,
which will comfortably accommodate your whole family; and one of the
boys came over with another wagon to tote your baggage over."
"You have been very thoughtful and considerate, Colonel Cosgrove, and I
am under very great obligations to you," said Noah.
"Don't mention it, Mr. Lyon. I should be happy to have you spend the
night with me, for we have still a great deal to talk about," answered
the executor.
"My family, as well as myself, are naturally quite impatient to see our
new home," suggested the New Hampshire farmer. "Fifteen miles is not a
very long distance even in New England, and I hope we shall meet often."
"I shall visit Riverlawn often until you are well settled in your new
home. I have a plantation myself on the road to Barcreek, and about half
way there, which I visit two or three times a week; and I shall be glad
to give you all the information you need in regard to your surroundings,
or in relation to the management of your estate. You will see me
occasionally at Riverlawn, and I shall hope to meet you and your family
here, or at my estate, which is called Belgrade."
"Thank you, Colonel; I am sure we shall be good friends in spite of my
antecedents as a Northern farmer, for I am not a bigot or a fanatic."
"I have no doubt we shall be good friends and good neighbors," said the
Kentuckian, as he took the hand of his new client, and struck the bell
on the table. "Now I will send for Mr. Bedford, who has been the
overseer or manager of your brother for the last ten years. As the
colonel was, he is a bachelor of fifty, and has been one of the family
at Riverlawn. He is a thoroughly reliable man, and one of the late
colonel's best friends."
A servant was sent for the overseer, and presently he appeared. He was a
rather stout man, and his round face seemed to be overflowing with
pleasantry and good-nature. He was duly presented to all the six members
of the family, and heartily shook the hand of each of them. He did not
at all answer to the description of plantation overseers which Noah Lyon
had obtained from the books he had read, depicting the horrors of
slavery. In spite of his occupation he took a fancy to him at first
sight; and all the family were pleased with him.
The manager, as Noah preferred to call him, was Levi Bedford. He had
never been very successful in the management of his own affairs; but he
was a man after Colonel Lyon's own heart, and in his will he had given
him five thousand dollars, which was one of the grievances Titus had
against the testament. One of the virtues of Levi, as his late employer
always called him, was his extreme fondness for horses, with his skill
in raising and managing them; for this had been an important branch of
the planter's business.
"I have started Pink over to the place with all your baggage, Major
Lyon, and I am ready to leave with the family when you say the word,"
said Mr. Bedford, after they had conversed a few minutes.
"I am not a major, Mr. Bedford," replied Noah; and all the family
laughed when they heard the military title applied to him.
"Your brother was not exactly a colonel; but that is a fashion we have
down here of expressing our respect for a man by giving him rank in the
military," laughed the manager. "But I want you to call me 'Levi,' as
your brother did, and as Colonel Cosgrove does when there is no company
present."
"Very well, Levi; I intend to conform to the customs of the country. We
are all ready to leave at once," added Noah.
"My team will be at the door in four minutes and three-quarters, Major
Lyon," answered the manager as he left the room.
"Call it five, Levi," added the colonel.
"Less than that, Colonel," replied Levi as he closed the door.
"I would give that man double the wages I pay my present overseer if I
could have him at Belgrade; and I should make money by the change," said
the host, as he went to the window of the drawing-room, to which the
party had retired from the dining-room. "The only fault he has is that
he is too gentle and indulgent to the negroes. The neighbors say he is
spoiling the niggers all over two counties. But I reckon the colonel was
more to blame for that, if anybody was to blame, for he had a soft
heart. I never saw two men less alike than your two Kentucky brothers,"
continued Colonel Cosgrove, as Noah joined him at the window. "There is
your team, and Levi hasn't been gone quite five minutes."
"Four horses!" exclaimed Noah.
"Levi likes a good team and enough of it," added the lawyer.
"And I never saw four handsomer horses in all my life," added the new
owner of Riverlawn, as he gazed with admiration on the magnificent
animals; and all the family hastened to the windows to see the turnout.
"You will find at least thirty more of them when you get to Riverlawn."
The road-wagon was a covered vehicle with four seats, large enough for a
dozen passengers. It was neatly painted and upholstered, and the
harnesses on the horses were elegant enough for a city turnout. The
whole family promptly realized that they were entering upon a style to
which they had never been accustomed. But Noah Lyon had suddenly become
a rich man.
The colonel gallantly assisted the ladies to their seats. The horses
danced and pranced; but they were so well trained that they did not
offer to start till Levi drew up his four reins and gave them the word
to go. Hasty adieux were spoken, and the horses went off, gently at
first, but soon put in a lively pace.
Noah and his wife took the back seat, Dorcas and Hope took the next one,
for all of them had been handed to these places by the colonel; Dexter
installed himself at the side of Levi, and Artemas had a seat all to
himself behind them. All was new and strange to them, and they observed
the buildings in the town till they passed out of the village. Then the
scenery was quite different from that of their former home.
Only two of the four children were those of Noah and his wife. Dexter
was his son, and was sixteen years old at this time, while his sister
Hope was thirteen. Both of them had received a high-school education in
part, and they were both very bright scholars. People in Derry called
Deck an "old head," which meant that his judgment and knowledge had
ripened beyond his years. Without being a "goody," he was a good boy,
with high aims and noble impulses.
Ten years before, Cyrus Lyon, one of the four brothers of whom Colonel
Duncan was the eldest, was a resident of Hillsburg in the State of
Vermont, where he had settled on a valley farm, which he had hired with
the intention of buying it when he was able to do so. He was married in
Derry, and had two children, with whom he moved to his new home. He
lived in an old house, between which and the public road flowed a small
river, nearly dry most of the year, but exceedingly turbulent in the
spring when the snow melted on the mountains.
A freshet came, and the house was surrounded by water. The bridge over
the stream was raised, and Cyrus went out to secure it. His wife
followed to assist him, and while both of them were on it, a rush of
waters came which tore the structure into fragments, and both of them
were swept away by the mad torrent. They were drowned in spite of the
efforts of the neighbors to rescue them. But they saved the two children
who remained in the house.
Noah had taken these two children and brought them up as his own, for
the father did not leave property enough to pay his debts. Artemas was
fifteen and Dorcas was seventeen. The colonel paid for their support for
ten years, and left each a handsome legacy, in trust with Noah.
In two hours from the county town, Levi Bedford reined in his four
horses at the front door of the Riverlawn mansion.
CHAPTER IV
THE ARRIVAL AND WELCOME AT RIVERLAWN
It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when the road-wagon drew up
in front of the mansion at Riverlawn. Less than a week before the
Northern family had left the deep snows and the icy cold of New
Hampshire, and the air of the Southern clime was comparatively mild and
soft. The magnolias were as green as in summer; certain flowers had
pushed their way out of the ground, and blossomed in the garden.
The young people in the wagon had been delighted with the ride, the air
was so mild, and everything was so new and strange. They had struck the
river road leading from the estate to the village, and the rest of the
way was along Bar Creek to the bridge which crossed it to the mansion.
They had passed Pink, the old negro who came with the baggage, at
Belgrade, where he had stopped to water his two horses. Levi Bedford had
talked all the way, pointing out every object of interest to the
new-comers, telling stories, repeating all the old jokes of the
locality, which were quite new to his audience.
As the manager wheeled his horses from the creek road upon the bridge,
he cracked his whip, which seemed to be the signal for the four spirited
horses to dance and prance, in order to make a proper display as they
reached the end of their journey. Gathered in the walks in front of the
house were all the servants of the mansion, and all the field-hands
belonging to the place, to welcome the family.
There were just fifty-one of them, Levi said, and they all broke out in
a yell, which was intended for a cheer, as the magnificent animals
danced up to the front door. It was a cordial welcome, and the "people"
put their whole souls into it. Noah Lyon took off his Derby hat and
waved it to the crowd; Deck and Artie followed his example, all of them
bowing; while Mrs. Lyon and the girls flaunted their handkerchiefs
vigorously to the assembled population of the plantation.
Most of them were somewhat shy at first, though they intended to give a
proper welcome to the family of the new proprietor, and they were rather
restrained in their demonstration; but as soon as the party waved their
hats and handkerchiefs, with pleasant smiles on their faces, all of them
shouted, "Glad to see you!" their enthusiasm being limited only by the
vigor of their voices and the strength of their lungs.
The Lyons were intensely amused at the earnestness of the demonstration,
and they laughed heartily. They retained their seats in the wagon after
it stopped, more interested in the gathering around them than in
anything else for the time. The crowd closed up around the vehicle in
order to obtain a nearer view of their new masters and mistresses. They
had known and loved as a patriarch the colonel, for he had always been
kind and indulgent to them. Unfortunately they also knew Titus Lyon, by
reputation if not personally, and for a month they had been wondering
whether the new proprietor was like the colonel or his Kentucky brother.
The "people" were of all ages, from the bald-headed old negro with a
flaxen fringe around his rear head on a level with his ears, down to the
infant in arms, whose toothless grin contrasted with the ivory display
of its mother. They were of all the hues of the colored race, from the
ebony face whereon charcoal could make no mark to the light saffron tint
of the octoroon.
There was a plentiful sprinkling of "mammies" and "uncles" among them,
for all the older ones are called by these names. But the great body of
them were young or middle-aged men and women, able-bodied and fit for
regular work. Noah Lyon and his wife were particularly struck with the
appearance of two girls sixteen to eighteen years old, who were nearly
as white as their own children. They were neatly and modestly dressed,
and both of them had very pretty faces. They were employed in the house
as waiters at the table, and in other general work.
"Glad to see you, mars'r!" shouted a score of the tribe in unison. "Glad
to see you, missus!" "Gib you welcome to Barcreek, mars'r and missus!"
"Glad to see de young mars'rs and missusses!"
Levi, with a very broad and cheerful smile upon his round face,
descended from the wagon with the reins in his hand, which he handed to
a mulatto whom he called Frank, who had been the colonel's coachman. He
proceeded to assist Mrs. Lyon to alight, and her husband followed her
without any of the assistance tendered to him, for he was only forty
years old, and almost as nimble as he had ever been. The manager handed
the girls to the ground as politely as though he had served his time as
a dancing-master, and the young ladies smiled upon him as sweetly as
though he had been a younger beau.
"This is Diana, Mrs. Lyon, the cook and housekeeper," said Levi, taking
a yellow woman of fifty by the arm, and presenting her to the new lady
of the house.
"Diana, missus, and not Dinah," added the housekeeper, as the lady took
her hand.
"I will always call you Diana, and never Dinah," replied Mrs. Lyon. "I
have no doubt we shall be good friends, though I am not used to your
ways in Kentucky."
"This girl is Sylvie," said Diana, drawing the elder of the two
octoroons into the presence of the lady; and her color was light enough
to make her blushes transparent. "This is Julie," she added, bringing
the other of the pretty pair to the front. "Both of them wait on the
table, and 'tend on missus. Both of them come from New Orleans when they
were little girls, and both of them speak French like a pair of
mocking-birds."
"I am very happy to see you, girls, and I think we shall get along very
well together, for I have never been used to having any one to wait on
me," said the lady, as she took each of them by the hand; and they were
so pretty that she was disposed to kiss them.
The rest of the family were presented in like manner to the house
servants, and Levi introduced them to the rest of the people in a mass.
The Lyons all felt that they had suddenly become lions, at least so far
as Riverlawn was concerned. Noah had been a prosperous farmer in New
Hampshire, engaged in some outside operation in which he had been
successful; but even in haying-time he had never had more than three
hired men. This avalanche of half a hundred servants suddenly attached
to him was a new and novel experience; and the situation was just as
strange to his wife and the young people.
Aunty Diana conducted the family into the house with many bows and
flourishes, followed by the pretty octoroons, and ushered them into the
drawing-room, which had seldom been used when the colonel was alive; for
he was as simple in his manners as Noah, though he felt obliged to keep
up the style of the mansion.
"Help you take your things off, missus?" said Diana to Mrs. Lyon, while
Sylvie and Julie tendered their services to Dorcas and Hope.
"We should like to go to our rooms, Diana," replied the lady. "I suppose
they are all ready for us."
"All ready, missus."
"Of course you can take your choice of the rooms, Mrs. Lyon," interposed
Levi, who had come into the house as soon as he had sent the people to
their cottages. "There are eight rooms on the second floor, besides two
company chambers; and I suppose Diana has already picked out one for the
owner and his wife."
"You can take just what room you like, missus, but I picked out the
colonel's chamber for mars'r and missus, 'cause it is the biggest, has a
dressing-room and four great closets. I think that one suit missus
best," added Diana.
"We will all go up-stairs and look at the rooms," replied Mrs. Lyon.
She concluded to take the colonel's room, to which Noah assented; and it
was a palatial apartment to both of them. The girls were next provided
with rooms, and the two octoroons were unremitting in their attentions
to them. Though they knew that these girls were slaves, they treated
them like sisters, and before the day was over they were fast friends;
for both of them were utterly devoid of any Southern prejudices against
those who were so nearly of their own color. They were disposed to treat
all the servants kindly, but they had not the same feeling towards those
of ebony hue.
The same sentiment prevailed through the family; and as a rule it
pervaded most of the enlightened families of the South. The girls as
well as the mother--and Dorcas and Artie looked upon and called Mrs.
Lyon by this endearing name--had been accustomed to wait upon
themselves, and they found it rather difficult to economize the willing
hands of Sylvie and Julie. But when Pink arrived with the trunks and
other baggage, the field-hands "toted" them to the proper chambers, and
the aid of the servants was very welcome, for both of them were tired
after the long journey they had made.
As the great clock in the spacious hall below struck six, the family
were summoned to supper. Levi acted as master of ceremonies, for Diana
was busy in the kitchen, with her two assistants; but he seemed to have
some doubts about seating himself at his employer's table, though he had
always had a place there in the colonel's time.
"Sit here, if you please, Levi, and always consider yourself as one of
the family," said Noah, after he had asked Deck to take the second seat
on the right, giving the manager the first, which is the seat of honor;
and the question of Levi's position at Riverlawn was settled once for
all.
"Thank you, Major Lyon," replied he, as he took the place assigned to
him. "I always sat at the table with Colonel Lyon, even when he had
guests; but it isn't always the rule with planters to have the overseer
at his table, and I am much obliged to you for your consideration."
"When I had two or three hired men on my farm, they always came to the
table with me, and would have thought they were abused if they had been
placed at a separate board," laughed the embryo planter. "But they were
the 'mud-sills' of the North, you know."
"I was raised in Tennessee, Major, and was tolerably well educated. I
was in business for myself in Shelbyville, the capital of our county,
which was named for one of my ancestors. But I did not succeed, for the
place was not big enough. I bought some nice horses of Colonel Lyon, and
for some reason he took a fancy to me."
"I don't think that was very strange," added Noah.
"When I failed, he wanted me to come and manage this place for him; and
I have been here ever since. He paid me well, and I have always done the
best I could for him. He was a good man; and it looks to me just as
though his successor was as good a man as he was."
"Thank you, Levi; I believe we shall be friends."
"Betwixt you and me, Major," continued the manager in a low tone, "when
the colonel's health began to be rather shaky, though I had no idea he
was so near his end, I had a mortal dread that a certain other man would
come into possession of this place. Excuse me for saying that, but I
couldn't help it. Since I met you this noon, Major, I have been lifted
up to the seventh heaven."
Noah did not deem it wise to make any reply to this remark then; but he
intended to inquire more particularly in regard to his Kentucky brother
when he had an opportunity; and it appeared that the manager had some
very pronounced opinions in regard to Titus. He changed the subject, and
continued to eat his supper.
The meal was elaborate enough for a family feast. After the fried ham
and bacon, the fried chicken, with baked potatoes and the nicest white
cornbread the family had ever eaten, came hot biscuits, waffles, and
griddle-cakes, and cake of several kinds, which were fully approved by
Mrs. Lyon. Diana came in before the party rose from the table, and the
praises bestowed upon her handiwork in the kitchen would have made her
blush if she had been as light-colored as the two girls that waited upon
the table.
When Noah Lyon went to his room after supper, and was alone there, he
took from his pocket the letter from his deceased brother which Colonel
Cosgrove had given him. It was with no little emotion that he broke the
cumbrous seals. It looked very much like a mystery to him, for the
estate had been duly divided in the will.
It was a very kindly and brotherly letter for the first page. Then the
colonel stated that Noah had by the time he received the letter
discovered that the value of the fifty-one negroes on the estate had not
been included in his valuation of the property. They were worth at least
twenty-five thousand dollars. They had been given to him with the
plantation, but he enjoined it upon him on no account to sell one of
them.
In the letter he found another as carefully sealed as the one that
enclosed it, directed to his successor, with the direction: "Not to be
opened till five years from the date of my death. Duncan Lyon."
The letter evidently related to the slaves on the plantation; but the
mystery in regard to them was still unsolved.
CHAPTER V
THE DISTRESS OF MRS. TITUS LYON
In the rear of the drawing-room was the library. It contained about five
hundred bound volumes, and more than this number of pamphlets and
documents, which had accumulated in a quarter of a century. It contained
a large desk and a safe, and the apartment was an office rather than a
library, though the owner of Riverlawn had largely improved his
education by reading in his abundant leisure. The shelves were piled
high with newspapers and magazines, which appeared to have been the
staple of his intellectual food.
Levi had given the key of the safe to the new proprietor; and after Noah
had read and reread the open letter, and pondered its contents, he
carried the one which was not to be opened for five years to the
library, and deposited it in the safe with the explanatory epistle which
left the whole subject a mystery. What was eventually to become of the
negroes was not indicated, but he was enjoined not to sell one of them
on any account.
Though opposed to the extension of slavery, Noah Lyon did not believe
that Congress had any constitutional right to meddle with the system as
it existed in the States. He had never been brought into contact with
slavery, and did not howl when his brother became a slaveholder. Like
the majority of the people of the North, he was instinctively, as it
were, opposed to human bondage; but he had never been considered a
fanatic or an abolitionist by his friends and neighbors. He simply
refrained from meddling with the subject.
The fifty-one negroes on the estate had been willed to him, and he was
as much a slaveholder as his brother had been. The injunction not to
sell one of them was needless in its application to him, for he would as
readily have thought of selling one of his own children as any human
being.
It would require a bulky volume to detail the experience of Noah Lyon
and his family during the years that followed his arrival at Barcreek.
He was an intelligent man, richly endowed with saving common-sense, and
soon made himself familiar with all the affairs of the plantation. He
made the acquaintance of the servants, which was no small matter in
itself, for he ascertained the history, disposition, and character of
all of them.
He found that his brother had not over-estimated the worth of Levi
Bedford, who soon became a great favorite with all the family. The new
proprietor found no occasion to change the conduct of affairs in the
management of the place, even if he had felt that he was competent to
improve the methods and system of his late brother. Everything went on
as before. Levi made the crops of hemp, tobacco, corn, and vegetables,
and raised horses, marketing everything to be sold. He consulted his
employer, but he had little to say.
The family became acquainted with their neighbors within a circuit of
ten miles, and in spite of their origin they were kindly and hospitably
received by the best families.
At the end of a year the Lyons had practically become Kentuckians. In
the following year came the great political campaign which resulted in
the election of Abraham Lincoln to the presidency. Ominous growls had
been heard from the South, and even in the border State of Kentucky.
Noah regarded the situation with no little anxiety; but he continued to
attend to his own affairs, and it was not till the bombardment of Fort
Sumter that he began to take an active part in the agitation which was
shaking the entire nation.
Titus Lyon was one of the most stormy and aggressive of the Southern
sympathizers. Even neutrality was a compromise with him. When Noah's
family took possession of Riverlawn, he did not call at the mansion for
several days, though his wife and Mabel, his eldest daughter, had spent
the day after their arrival with them. Though Titus said nothing at
first, or for months to come, it was very evident to Noah that he was
intensely dissatisfied with the distribution the colonel had made of his
property.
The state of affairs in Barcreek has been shown in the conversation
between the planter and his son on the bridge. This seemed to be a
favorite resort for conferences, and they returned to it after dinner.
On one side of it was a seat which had been put up there years before;
for it was shaded by a magnificent tree which grew by the side of the
creek road, and the bridge was the coolest place on the estate in a hot
day.
"Of course you heard what your mother said about her visit to Titus's
house to-day, Dexter," said the father, as he seated himself on the
bench.
"I could not well help hearing it," replied Deck.
"If there is anything in this world I abominate, it is a family
quarrel," continued Noah, fixing his gaze upon the dark waters of the
creek. "Your uncle seems to be disposed to be at variance with me,
though I am sure I have done nothing of which he can reasonably
complain. He is down upon every Union man in the county. I should say
that Barcreek was about equally divided between the two parties. But he
does not talk politics to me, as he does to every other man in the
place."
"I don't know what he means when he says you owe him five thousand
dollars, for I thought the boot was on the other leg," said Deck,
looking into the troubled face of his father.
"He owes me several hundred dollars I lent him before he sold his
railroad stock. He is able to pay me now, for he has turned his
securities into money, and he seems to be flinging it away as fast as he
can. He must be worth twenty-five thousand dollars, including his house
and land; but I don't know how much of it he has thrown away."
"If he has spent five thousand dollars for arms, ammunition, and
uniforms, he must have made a big hole in it," suggested Deck. "He keeps
three horses when he has no use for more than one."
"He never had a tenth part as much money before in his life, and he does
not know how to use it. He will be the captain of a Home Guard as soon
as he can enlist the men, and the people on his side of the question at
the village have begun to call him 'Captain Lyon,' or 'Captain Titus.'"
"Sandy told me that he, his father, and Orly had been drilling for three
months with an old soldier who was in the Mexican War," added Deck.
"There comes Artie in one of the boats."
"Where is he going?" asked Noah.
"I'm sure I don't know; Artie don't always tell where he is going,"
answered Deck.
His cousin, whom he regarded and treated as his brother, was pulling a
very handsome keel boat leisurely up the creek. The colonel appeared to
have had some aquatic tastes, for at a kind of pier half-way between the
bridge and the river were a sailboat and two row-boats, all of which
were kept in excellent condition. In places the river was wide enough to
allow the use of a boat with a sail, and the colonel had had some skill
in managing one; but neither Noah nor his boys could handle such a
craft, and it was never used.
The creek extended back some ten miles through a flat, swampy region,
and Deck and Artie had explored it almost to its source in some low
hills not a dozen miles from the Mammoth Cave. Like most boys, they were
fond of boats, and nothing but the forbidding command of the planter
prevented them from experimenting with the Magnolia, as the sailboat was
called by the colonel.
If the boys had explored Bar Creek to its source, they would have
discovered that it came out of the numerous "sinks" to be found in this
portion of the country, and streams flowed in subterranean channels
which honeycombed the earth at a greater or less depth below the
surface.
"What are you up to, Deck?" shouted Artie, as he approached the bridge.
"Nothing particular," replied the one on the bridge. "Where are you
going?"
"Up the creek," answered Artie very indefinitely. "Can't you go with me?
It is easier for two to row this boat than for one."
"I don't want to go now," returned Deck, who was too much interested in
the conversation with his father to leave him.
"You may go with him if you want to, Dexter," interposed Mr. Lyon.
"I don't care about going now, father. Do you suppose Uncle Titus has
really bought the arms and things as mother says?" asked Deck.
"Your aunt is very much worried about the actions of your uncle. I
suppose he told her what he had done, for she would not make up such a
story out of whole cloth. Besides, it seems to be in keeping with a
dozen other things he has done; and he is certainly doing all he can to
raise a company in Barcreek," replied Mr. Lyon.
"Isn't it strange that he never says anything to you about politics,
especially such as we are having now?" asked the son.
"I don't see him very often; he is at Bowling Green half the time.
Besides, he and I never agreed on politics. By the great George
Washington, there he is now!" exclaimed Noah Lyon, springing up from his
seat on the bench.
Titus Lyon was seated with his wife in a stylish buggy. He stopped his
horse on the bridge when he came opposite to his brother, and passing
the reins to Mrs. Lyon he descended to the planks. His wife drove on,
and stopped at the front door of the mansion. Frank the coachman ran
with all his might from the stable to take charge of the team, and the
lady went into the house.
"How do you do, Titus?" said Noah, extending his hand to his brother.
"I think it is about time for me to have some talk with you, Noah,"
replied Titus, ignoring the offered hand, and bestowing a frowning look
upon Deck. "Send that boy away."
"Dexter knows all about my affairs, and I don't have many secrets from
him," replied Noah very mildly, and somewhat nettled to have his son
treated in that rude manner.
"I came over here on purpose to talk with you; and what I have to say is
between you and me--for the present. If you don't wish to talk with me
on these terms, that's the end on't," added Titus, rising from the seat
he had taken.
"I will go with Artie, father," interposed Deck, who did not wish to
prevent an interview between the brothers, though he thought his uncle
behaved like a Hottentot.
"Very well, Dexter; but you needn't go if you don't want to," said his
father, who evidently did not believe that the proposed interview with
Titus would be conducted on a peace basis.
"I think I will go," added Deck, who hailed Artie from the bridge, and
then hastened to a plank where he could get into the boat.
For a reason which he would not have explained if he had been
interrogated by his father, or by any other person except Deck, Artie
was very desirous to have his cousin go with him; in fact, he was
thinking of postponing his excursion, whatever its object, till his
cousin could accompany him, when the hail came to him from the bridge.
He pulled up to the plank, the outer end of which was supported by
stakes driven into the bottom of the stream, with a cross-piece above
the water. It had been built for the convenience of those taking one of
the boats near the mansion. Deck took an oar, and they pulled together
up the creek.
Mrs. Titus Lyon was cordially welcomed at the door of the house by Mrs.
Noah, who had seen her coming from the window. The lady from the village
was in a high state of perturbation, and her eyes looked as though she
had been weeping.
"I have had an awful time since you called upon me this morning," said
she, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. "I don't know what we are
coming to at our house. For the first time in my life my husband struck
me after we got up from dinner, and then hurried me down here with
hardly time to change my clothes!"
"Struck you, Amelia!" exclaimed Mrs. Noah with an expression of horror.
"Perhaps it was all my own fault," groaned the poor woman.
"No fault could justify your husband in striking you. But what was it
for?" inquired Mrs. Noah, overflowing with sympathy for her
sister-in-law.
"You remember that story about the arms and equipments I told you this
morning? Well, it seems that my son Orly was listening at the half-open
door when I supposed that no one but myself was in the house, for the
girls had all gone off to the store. He heard the whole of it, and told
his father when he came in to dinner," gasped the abused lady in short
sentences.
"He struck you for telling me, did he?" demanded Mrs. Noah indignantly.
"I should like to give him a piece of my mind!"
"Don't you say a word to him about it, for that would only make it all
the worse for me. Titus says there is no truth at all in the story. He
has bought no arms. I misunderstood him; he was telling about a
committee in Logan County that had bought the arms and ammunition for a
company. It is all a mistake; and if you have told any of your family,
do take it all back, and say there is not a word of truth in the story."
Mrs. Titus could see from the window that the two brothers were having a
stormy interview on the bridge; but she stayed till long after dark, and
had recovered her self-possession before she left. Noah had no supper
till she had gone, and the boys had not yet returned.
CHAPTER VI
THE NIGHT ADVENTURE ON THE CREEK
If Deck Lyon had particularly noted the actions of his cousin in the
boat he would have noticed that he was less decided in his movements
than usual. He stopped rowing several times in the ten minutes or more
that elapsed after he had invited Deck to go with him; and one who had
been near enough to study his expression would have understood that he
had a purpose before him which he was not prepared to execute under
present circumstances.
He had listened with the closest attention to Mrs. Lyon's report of her
visit at the house of Titus, and he was in a revery after dinner as he
observed Noah and his son walking to the bridge. He waited till he had
seen them seated on the bench, and then he walked slowly to the boat
pier. He was disappointed when his cousin refused to go with him; but he
was not inclined to persuade him to leave his father, for he concluded
that something of importance was under discussion between them.
He was relieved, and all his vigor and animation came back to him as he
pulled to the house landing. Artie was more inclined than Deck to keep
within his own shell; but it was not for the want of native energy, and
both of the boys were disposed to do whatever they had in hand with all
their might. He brought the boat up abreast of the pier, and Deck
stepped into the bow without any further invitation. He took one of the
light pine oars from his cousin.
"If you don't object, Deck, I would like to pull the forward oar," said
Artie, as his companion was seating himself.
"It is all the same to me which oar I take," replied Deck, as he changed
his place.
"I want to talk with you, and I can do it better when you are in front
of me," added Artie, as he shoved the boat out into the stream.
"Where are you going? You seem to have something in your head besides
bones," said Deck curiously.
"Besides the bones I've got a big notion in my head."
"Is it a Yankee or a Kentucky notion, Artie?"
"I picked it up here, and it is Kentuckish. But I don't want to say
anything now; for I'm afraid some one might hear me, more particularly
Uncle Titus," replied the bow oarsman as he took the stroke from his
cousin. "I wonder what brought him over here, for he don't come to
Riverlawn much oftener than he goes to church."
"He acts like a regular Hottentot just out of the woods; and if there
are any bears in Kentucky they would behave like gentlemen compared with
Uncle Titus," added Deck, who proceeded to describe the manner of the
visitor on the bridge when the two brothers met.
"Uncle Titus has got something besides bones in his head this afternoon,
and when he started to come over here he meant business," suggested
Artie. "Something is in the wind."
"I wanted to stay and hear what was said, but Uncle Titus drove me off
as he would have kicked a snake into the creek. He was as grouty and as
savage as a she-lion that had lost all her cubs."
"Did he say anything about that story your mother told at dinner?" asked
Arty.
"Not a word; he drove me off as though I had been a cur dog before he
said a word about anything else," replied Deck, who could not easily
forget the brutal manner of his uncle. "But you have not told me yet
where you are going, Artie. You haven't any fishlines or bait, and I
suppose you are not going a-fishing."
"Not up the creek, for the river suits me better for that business; but
I'm going a-fishing for something that won't swim in the water," replied
the undemonstrative boy.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Deck; and his interest in the
subject caused him to cease rowing, and Artie pulled the boat round so
that it was headed to the shore.
"Pull away, Deck! What are you about? We don't want to stop here," said
Artie with more than his usual vigor.
"I am about nothing; but when I talk with you I like to look you in the
face, for that sometimes tells the story better than your words,"
replied Deck, as he gave way again with his oar. "As I said before, you
have got something besides bones in your head, and I am in a hurry to
know what it is all about. You can't talk it into me through the back of
my head."
"But we don't want to stop here, Richard Coeur de Lyon!" protested
Artie, rather vehemently for him. "Don't you see that we are still in
sight of the bridge, and I would not have Uncle Titus see what we are
about for all the world, with Venus and Mars thrown in. Besides, we have
a long pull before us, and we have no time to spare."
"But I want to know what it is all about," Deck objected. "I am not
going into any conspiracy with my eyes blinded."
"Pull away, Deck! I don't want that Secesher to see us stopping here. We
shall come to the bend in five minutes; and then if you want to stop and
talk I will agree to it, though we haven't any time to waste," suggested
Artie as a compromise.
"One would think you were going to set the river on fire by your talk,"
replied Deck, profoundly mystified by the words, and more by the manner
of his companion.
"We may set the creek on fire before we get through with this job,"
continued Artie, deepening the mystery every minute. "There's Levi
Bedford," he added, as the manager, riding on a rather wild colt, in the
road leading to the fields, came abreast of the boat.
He was too far off to talk to the boys; but he waved his hat to them,
and the boatmen returned the salute, as he continued on his way.
"I wonder where Levi stands in the row that is brewing all over the
country," said Deck. "I don't hear him say anything of any consequence,
though he may have talked to father. He did not come from New England,
and I don't know whether he is a Secesher or not; and it looks as though
he did not mean anybody should know."
"He don't belong to the Home Guards any way," added Artie. "He is a
Tennesseean, and it would not be strange if he had some Secesh notions."
"I don't believe he is going back on father," replied Deck, when the
manager had disappeared and the boat had reached the bend. "Here we are;
we can't see the bridge now, and the bridge can't see us."
"We will stop if you say so; but we may not get back to the house before
to-morrow morning if we spend much time here," said Artie, as he rested
on his oar, and seemed to be very unwilling to use any of the time in
mere talk.
"If the time is so short, why didn't you start out this morning? and why
didn't you let me know sooner that you were going to set the creek on
fire? We might have brought our dinners with us, as we did when we went
to school in Derry, and made a day of it," argued Deck.
"Things were not ready this morning, and I started just as soon as I saw
the star in the east," replied Artie.
"You don't generally wait for the grass to grow under your feet when the
lightning strikes near you."
"The lightning struck while we were at dinner," added Artie quietly.
"But I think we can fix things so that we can talk and keep moving at
the same time," suggested Deck, as he rose from his seat with his oar in
his hand, and stepped over his thwart to the aftermost one.
He seated himself on this thwart, facing the bow. The boys were not
skilled boatmen, though they had practised rowing a good deal on the
river and creek, and they had not trimmed the light craft to the best
advantage for ease and speed, for it was down too much by the head. Deck
asked his cousin to move one seat farther aft, and he complied readily,
in spite of the fact that he was the more skilled of the two in rowing.
In the smallest of the three boats at the lower pier he had often made
long trips alone up the creek, besides those when his cousin was his
companion.
"That lifts the bow higher out of the water," said Artie as he took his
place.
"So much the better," replied Deck, proceeding to give philosophical and
scientific reasons to explain what experienced boatmen know by instinct,
as it were. "Now take the stroke from me, and don't pull any faster than
I do."
Placing himself in an angular position on the thwart, with his right
hand hold of the seat, he began to row with his left. While pulling
alone in the canoe, as the negro rowers called the smallest craft, he
had been inclined to protest against the accepted custom of going
backwards in rowing; and he would gladly have adopted the mechanical
contrivance in use on some of the Northern waters which enabled the
boatmen to pull while facing the bow. He wanted to see where he was
going without turning around, and he had practised rowing in this
position.
Deck was heavier and stronger than his cousin, though hardly as agile.
Artie took the stroke from him, and it was quite as quick as he cared to
row on a long pull. They kept good time, and the boat went along as
rapidly as before.
"Now light your match, and start the fire, Artie. We shall lose no time
by this arrangement, and we shall get back to the house before morning."
"Perhaps, after you understand the nature of the enterprise, you will
not be willing to go with me," added Artie, looking earnestly into the
face of his cousin.
"I can tell better about that after I know what it is," returned Deck,
reciprocating the earnest gaze of the other. "But it is you who are
wasting the time now. Why don't you come to the point without going
around all the buildings on the plantation?"
"You heard the story mother told about the arms and ammunition Uncle
Titus had bought for the Home Guards in order to make himself the
captain of the company?"
"Of course I heard it," and Deck was unwilling to say another word to
increase the preliminaries to the revelation.
"Did you believe it?"
"I did."
"Then you are satisfied that Uncle Titus has a lot of arms hid away
somewhere in this region?" persisted Artie.
"I had my doubts, and I spoke to father about it on the bridge just
before you came along in the boat. He thought that his brother was just
crazy enough to do such a thing; but he thought whiskey had a good deal
to do with the matter, especially in permitting him to tell his wife
about it. Of course Sandy and Orly are mixed up in this business. But
this is an old story by this time, Artie, and you have not told me yet
what you are driving at," said Deck impatiently.
"We are going to look for the arms and ammunition, Deck!" exclaimed the
originator of the enterprise. "Is that talking plainly enough?"
"To look for the arms and ammunition!" almost shouted the after oarsman,
ceasing to use his oar in the astonishment of the moment.
"You insisted on my telling you all at once, and I have done so; you
have stopped rowing."
"What you said was enough to throw a fellow off his base. Do you mean
that you are going on a wild-goose chase all over the State of Kentucky
to look for what may be a mere notion, conjured up by an overdose of
whiskey?" demanded Deck, still resting on his oar.
"Don't get excited, Coeur de Lyon; cold steel cuts best," said Artie.
"And that's the reason father puts his razor into hot water when he is
shaving."
"I don't think anybody is right down sure of anything in this world,"
continued the leader of the enterprise. "I think I am as sure as any
fellow can be in this State of Kentucky, where no man or boy can tell
which end he stands on, that I know where Uncle Titus's arms and
ammunition are hidden."
"You know!" ejaculated Deck.
"I think I know."
"What are you doing up the creek, then? Didn't Aunt Amelia say that the
arms were concealed near the river?" asked Deck, hardly able to breathe
in his excitement.
"I think I know where they are hidden better than she did. If Uncle
Titus told his wife that they were hidden on the river,--and that is
just what aunt said,--her husband intended to cheat her," said Artie
very confidently. "I should say that a dozen glasses of whiskey would
not have made Uncle Titus fool enough to tell anybody where the arms
were concealed, not even his wife; and they don't seem to be a very
loving couple since they came to Kentucky."
"That's so," added Deck.
"Do you remember that time about a fortnight ago when father spoke to me
about being out so late one night, Deck?"
"I remember it; it was on the bridge."
"That night I found out something I could not explain, but I can now,
after what I heard at dinner to-day. But we have eight or ten miles to
pull if we are going to find the arms to-day, and we must be moving,"
added Artie.
Deck rowed again, and they proceeded up the creek, Artie telling his
night adventure by the way.
CHAPTER VII
A STORMY INTERVIEW ON THE BRIDGE
Probably Noah Lyon had never felt anything like the emotion of anger in
his being against his brother until they met that day on the bridge. As
one and another had said several times, no two men of the same blood and
lineage could have been more differently constituted. Noah had been a
diligent student as a boy, and a constant reader in his maturity; while
Titus had been the black sheep of the family, had neglected his studies
in his youth, and did not even read a newspaper in his manhood, unless
for a special purpose.
Titus could read and write, and knew enough of arithmetic to enable him
to keep the accounts of his business. Whatever he learned after he left
school he gathered from the speech of people; and as his associates were
not of the intelligent class in his native town any more than they were
in his new home, his education was very limited and his moral aims, if
he could be said to have any, were not elevated enough to keep him very
far within the limits of the law, which were his principal tests between
right and wrong.
Before he was twenty-one he obtained a position to drive a stage on a
twenty-mile route, so that he spent every other night at a tavern; and
this did not improve his manners or his morals. As a boy he had become
disgusted with farming, and had learned the trade of a mason, working at
it three years. Like his elder brother, he was a horse fancier, and was
a skilful driver. An accident to the old stage-driver placed him on the
box, and when the place became permanent he was only twenty years old.
With so little intellectual and moral foundation as he had laid for his
future character, it was a misfortune for him that he was then a
"good-looking fellow." He boarded at the tavern, and paid only two
dollars a week in consideration of his position, for it was believed
that he had some influence with his passengers. He was well supplied
with money for one of his age in the country, and he spent all he had.
He was an agile dancer, which, with his good looks, made him popular in
the town, especially with the girls. Amelia Lenox was a pretty girl. She
had a fancy for the handsome stage-driver; and, in spite of the earnest
objections of her father and mother, she accepted him as her husband,
and they were married. Titus took a cottage near the tavern, and for a
year, with the help of his and her father, they got along very well.
All of a sudden a railroad shot through the town, and the business of
the place was gone in the twinkling of an eye. The wages of Titus
stopped, and he had a wife and child to support. He went to his father
for advice. The mason, who had done a good business in the town and its
vicinity, had grown old. Hopestill Lyon, the grandfather of the boys,
was his best friend, and bought out his business for Titus.
For several years he worked well, made some money, and paid his
grandfather for the investment made on his behalf. But he did not like
the business. Unlike his brothers, he seemed to believe that fate,
destiny, circumstances, or some other indefinable power that regulates
the worldly condition of mortals, had misused and abused him; for he
ought to have been "born with a silver spoon in his mouth," with wealth
at his command, so that he could live in luxury without work.
When he built chimneys, plastered rooms, or jobbed in filthy drains and
smutty fireplaces, he labored with an active protest against his
occupation in his soul, which extended down to his hands and feet,
shutting out ambition, and making him lazy. He was always on the lookout
for some other occupation, or for some change which would put more money
in his pocket. He did a vast deal of grumbling and growling at his lot,
occasionally taking home with him a gallon jug of New England rum, which
did not improve his condition. He was not a drunkard, but he was
unconsciously falling into a bad habit.
His wife was an intelligent woman, and was a good helpmate; but it did
not require a prophetic vision to read the future, near or distant, of
Titus Lyon. It was said by some of the old people in the town that he
"took after" his grandmother, who had been a stylish woman in her
younger days, though the solid character of Hopestill Lyon had
controlled her inclinations so that she made him a good wife.
Mrs. Lyon reasoned kindly with Titus; but before she left her Northern
home she had lost whatever influence she had ever exercised over him. He
was eager to settle in Kentucky when the colonel's letter announcing an
opening for him came, and she was utterly opposed to the plan. It was at
least a change, and he was determined to make it, in spite of the fact
that his brother could not advise him to do so; and the result proved
the solidity of the colonel's judgment.
For seven years Titus fawned upon his wealthy brother. He was as
obsequious in his presence as one of the field-hands of Riverlawn; but
the colonel did not believe in him as he did in Noah, especially after
his long visit to the latter. When the health of the planter began to be
slightly impaired a couple of years before his death, Titus was sordid
enough to think of what would become of his plantation, which seemed
like a mine of wealth to him, at the decease of the owner.
He had talked planting, hemp, and horses to the colonel, and did all he
could to impress him with the belief that he was competent to manage the
plantation. It was his nature to believe in what he desired, and he was
satisfied that Riverlawn would be bequeathed to him, as it ought to be.
The reading of the will was a shock to him. The giving of ten thousand
dollars more than his fair share to Noah, who lived far away, and had
never even seen the plantation, in consideration for bringing up the two
orphans of his brother, excited his wrath.
He regarded this gift as an absolute wrong to him, while he was
compelled in pay the note out of his own share. He went home from
Riverlawn that day choking down his anger; but he was furious in the
presence of his wife, though she did all she could to console him. She
pointed out the fact that he now owned his place clear of any debt, and
had twenty thousand dollars in cash, stocks, and bonds; but he was not
satisfied. He wanted Riverlawn, where he could live in style, with an
abundant income without work.
As he brooded over his fancied wrong, it came to his mind that the
colonel's _ante-mortem_ inventory had not included the value of the
negroes on the plantation. He hastened over to see Colonel Cosgrove, the
executor. He exhibited a copy of the will, and Titus studied over it for
half a day. Nothing was said about the slaves. Then he went to another
lawyer with whom he had had some political dealings; but this gentleman
assured him that he had no remedy; the colonel had an undoubted right to
dispose of his property as he pleased, even if he had given the whole of
it to Noah. He had bequeathed the plantation, the mansion, with all that
was in or on them, or appertaining to them; and this included the
negroes.
For nearly two years Titus had nursed his wrath, and was earnest in his
belief that Noah ought to right the wrong the colonel had done him. Yet
he had never had the courage to make this claim upon his brother, or
even to mention to him the five thousand dollars which he insisted
belonged to him. The law could do nothing for him, his own lawyer told
him. Noah was his brother, now his only brother; and it was his duty,
according to every principle of right and justice, to pay over to him
half of the legacy of ten thousand dollars, and of the twenty-five
thousand dollars which was a low valuation of the negro property.
The quantity of Kentucky whiskey which Titus consumed magnified his
wrongs and made him more unreasonable than his natural discontent would
have made him. When he learned from his younger son what his wife had
told Mrs. Noah, he was more furious than he had ever been known to be
before, and he descended to the brutality of striking her. He had taken
more than his habitual potion of whiskey, and it made him ugly. His wife
wept bitterly over the abuse she had been subjected to, both the words
and the blow, and she had fled to her bedroom.
She was a high-spirited woman, and it seemed to her that the end of all
things had come, at least so far as her domestic happiness was
concerned. Her father was a well-to-do farmer; and neither he nor her
brothers would permit her to be abused by any one, not even by her
husband. A sudden and violent resolution came to her to return to her
father's house. While she was thinking of this remedy and of the parting
with her children, Titus rushed into the room. She must undo the
mischief she had done, and he would drive her to Riverlawn for that
purpose. He told her what to say, and she promised to say it; for she
felt that she had been indiscreet in what she had said.
During the drive her husband had continued to abuse her with his unruly
tongue, and she had wept all the way. They found Noah and Deck on the
bridge, and Titus decided to pour out his grievances to his brother; for
his drams had brought his courage up to the point where he felt like
doing it. He was not intoxicated, but he had drunk enough to make him
ugly. He descended from the vehicle, and Mrs. Titus drove over to the
mansion.
Dexter was sent away as before related, and the father was somewhat
moved by the rudeness with which the boy had been treated. He was a
mild-spoken man; and though he was quiet in his manner, he had more real
grit in his composition than Titus.
"You seem to be excited, Titus," said Noah, as he seated himself on the
bench from which he had just risen.
"I have good reason to be excited," growled the angry man. "My wife has
acted like a fool and a traitor to me!"
"I am sorry for that, Brother Titus; but I hope you don't hold me
responsible for her conduct," said Noah in gentle and conciliatory
tones.
"Not exactly; but you are responsible for enough without that, and I
have made up my mind that it is time for you and me to have a reckoning,
for you don't do by me as a brother should; and if father was living
to-day he would be ashamed of you," returned the mason, with all the
emphasis of a bad cause.
"I was not aware that I had been wanting in anything one brother ought
to do for another. But we had better consider a subject of such
importance when you are cooler than you seem to be just now, Titus. Your
present complaint appears to be against Amelia, and not against me. What
has she done? I have always looked upon her as a very good woman and
good wife."
"You don't know her as well as I do. I don't know what bad advice Ruth
has given her, or what influence she has over Meely, but she made her
tell a ridiculous story about some arms and ammunition," said Titus in a
milder manner; for he seemed to be intent upon counteracting the effect
of her action. "I s'pose Ruth repeated to you the story Meely told."
"She said you had given five thousand dollars for the purchase of arms,
ammunition, and uniforms for a company of Home Guards, of which you were
to be the captain."
"I'll bet that wa'n't all she told you," added Titus.
"That was the substance of it."
"I suppose most folks in Barcreek know all that."
"I never knew it till to-day."
"You don't go about among folks in this county as I do."
"I don't associate much with Secessionists and Home Guards."
"I do! But that is my business, and I have a good right to give my money
where it will do the most good; and I shall do so whether you like it or
not," fumed Titus.
"I don't dispute your right; though I am surprised that a man brought up
in the State of New Hampshire should become a Secessionist when more
than half the people of Kentucky are in favor of the Union," added Noah.
"'Tain't so! I never was a Black Republican, as you were, and I don't
begin on't now. If you want to steal the niggers, I don't help you do
it! But Meely told your wife something more;" and Titus looked anxiously
into the face of his brother, as if to read the extent of the mischief
which had been done.
"I believe Ruth did tell me that the arms and munitions had already been
purchased, and were hidden somewhere on the river," added Noah. "But I
did not pay much attention to this part of the story. The material part
of it was that you had given so much money to assist in making war in
the State."
"I give the money to keep the war out of Kentucky, and maintain the
neutrality of the State," argued Titus.
"We had better not talk politics, brother, and I will not give my views
of neutrality."
"The story my wife told about the arms was all a lie!" exclaimed the
visitor with an oath which shocked the owner of the plantation. "No arms
are hid on the river, or anywhere else. Meely understood what I said
with her elbows; and she has come down now to take it all back."
"Very well; I don't care anything about the arms, though I should be
sorry to have them go into the hands of the Secessionists or the Home
Guards, for they are all in the same boat."
At this moment Levi Bedford rode over the bridge on the colt, and Titus
was silent.
CHAPTER VIII
AN OVERWHELMING ARGUMENT
Levi Bedford had not come to the bridge to interfere with the
conversation or to listen to what was said; but as he was returning from
the distant fields of the plantation by the creek road, he could not
help seeing that a stormy interview was in progress on the bridge. He
believed that he understood Titus Lyon better than Noah did. He
considered him capable of violence to his brother when under the
influence of liquor, and he deemed it prudent for him to be within call
if he was needed.
Noah would have scouted the idea of Titus raising his hand against him,
even when he had been drinking; for in former years they had always
lived together on the best of terms. Levi had seen more of the mason
within a few years than Noah. While the colonel lay unburied in the
mansion, he had spent most of the time at Riverlawn, and to some extent
had assumed the control of the plantation.
The manager had not required the negroes to do anything but necessary
work during the sad interval; but Titus had interfered, and sent the
field-hands to their usual occupation. He had "bossed" Levi himself as
though he were only a servant, and even meddled with the affairs of
Diana in the house. The manager could not resent this interference at
such a time, and he could not help seeing that Titus was taking more
whiskey than usual; for he had even ordered Diana to bring out the
choice stores of this article which the colonel had kept for his friends
rather than for his own use.
He talked to Levi just as though the plantation would soon come into his
hands, and had made himself as unnecessarily offensive to the overseer
and all the petted servants as possible. It would not be overstating the
truth to say that he was thoroughly hated at Riverlawn. Levi had packed
his trunk in readiness to leave as soon as the tyrant took possession of
the place; and even some of the people were thinking of making their way
to the free State of Ohio.
Levi bowed and smiled as he passed the planter, but he only reined in
his fiery steed, and did not stop. He did not even look at Titus, much
less salute him, for he despised him; and pleasant as he was to all on
the place, including the people, he was an honest man, and appeared to
be just what he was. He rode over in the direction of the river, and
when he reached a thicket of trees and bushes he stopped the colt and
tied him to a tree. He remained there where he could see the bridge
without being seen by those upon it.
"I wonder that you keep that fellow on the place," said Titus, as Levi
rode off. "In my opinion, and I have seen more of him than you have,
Noah, he is a rascal;" and the last remark was seasoned with an oath.
"I think he is a very useful man, and my family are already very much
attached to him; for he is always good-natured, and kind and obliging to
everybody," replied the planter.
"There ain't no accounting for tastes, as my wife says; but if I had
this place that cuss would get kicked out before he had a chance to
breathe twice more," said Titus with a look of disgust which caused him
to twist his mouth and nose into such a snarl that Mrs. Titus would
hardly have known him.
Levi had not told his employer in what manner the would-be owner of the
plantation had conducted himself on the place after the death of the
colonel; and Noah could not understand why his brother had such an
antipathy to so genial a man as the manager, viewed from his own and his
family's standpoint.
"I take Levi as I find him, and I have been very much pleased with him,"
added Noah.
"But I did not come over here to talk about that dirty shote," continued
Titus, suddenly bracing himself up to attack the subject of the
grievances which had gnawed like a live snake at his vitals for nearly
two years. "In the fust place, I want you to understand, Noah Lyon, that
there ain't a word of truth in the story Meely told this noon in your
house."
"All right, Brother Titus," replied Noah. "I haven't looked for the arms
and ammunition, and I know nothing about them."
"Do you believe what I say, Noah?" demanded Titus with a savage frown.
"I have no reason to doubt your statement."
"If you and your family want to make trouble over that statement, I
s'pose you can do so. You 'n' I don't agree on politics."
"We are not disposed to make trouble. If there should be any difficulty
it will come from your side of the house, Titus."
"You are an abolitionist, and folks on the right side in this county
have found it out. They don't believe in no Lincoln shriekers, and the
Union's already busted," said the Secessionist brother with a good deal
of vim; and in this, as in other matters, he believed the popular
sentiment was on the side he wished it to be.
"I voted for Lincoln, and I believe in the Union," added Noah quietly.
"Yes; and there is five hundred men in this county that would like to
drive you out of the State, and burn your house over your head!"
exclaimed Titus, becoming not a little excited. "I believe they'd done
it before this time if I hadn't stood in their way."
"Then I am very much obliged to you for your friendly influence. I was
not aware that I had been in any peril before," returned Noah with a
smile, which was suggestive of a doubt in his mind. "Do you think I am
in any danger from such an outrage as you suggest?"
"I know you are!" Titus belched out with something like fury in his
manner. "If it hadn't been for me they'd done it before now. You haven't
been a bit keerful in your doings. You've got up a Union meeting at the
Big Bend schoolhouse for to-morrow night; and if you go on with it, I'm
almost sure you will get cleaned out; and the folks on the right side
may come over here, after they have shut your mouths at the Bend, and
see whether your house will burn or not. I have done all I could to keep
our folks quiet, and advised them not to meddle with the meeting at the
schoolhouse; but if you keep on the way you're going, I won't be
responsible for what happens."
"Though I came from the North since you did, all the people I meet seem
to be very friendly to me," answered Noah, the smile still playing upon
his lips; a satirical smile which indicated that he did not believe more
than a very small fraction of what his brother had been saying.
He had no doubt that the gang with whom Titus and his sons associated
would do all and even more than he prophesied; but they did not form the
public sentiment of the county.
"You don't meet all nor a tenth part of the people, and you don't know
what is running in their heads," protested the Secessionist. "You and
your two boys keep on howling for the Union when the people round here
are all dead set agin it. What can you expect? Seven States is out of
the Union, and that busts the whole thing."
"I don't think a majority of the people about here are of your way of
thinking, Brother Titus; but if I am in danger of mob violence, as you
say I am, my house is my castle; I shall defend it as long as there is
anything left of me," added Noah, the same smile resting on his lips as
he uttered his strong words.
"Defend your house!" said Titus with a bitter sneer. "You hadn't better
do anything of the sort. If you show fight, the crowd will hang you to
one of them big trees. You ain't reasonable, Noah. Do you cal'late on
fighting the whole county?"
"We differ considerably in regard to the state of feeling in this
county. We are between two fires, and I think we had better not say
anything more on that subject."
"That's so; but one fire is an alfired sight hotter than t'other; and
that's the one that will burn up that big house of yourn."
"I shall defend my house, and I think I shall be able to hold my own.
But I am not an abolitionist any more than you are, Brother Titus,"
mildly suggested Noah.
"You shriek for the Union, and it's all the same thing among honest
folks down here," retorted the Secessionist.
"I hold about fifty slaves, and I had an idea that this made me a
slaveholder," said Noah lightly.
"Don't you own 'em?" demanded Titus violently; for this subject touched
upon one of his grievances. "I have done everything I could to save you
from any hard usage on the part of our folks in spite of the way you've
used me."
"I am not aware that I have used you badly, Brother Titus."
"You call me brother; but judging from your actions you ain't no brother
of mine."
"I should like to have you tell me in what manner I have wronged you,
Titus. I hear from others that I owe you five thousand dollars; but I am
not aware that I owe you a nickel," replied the planter, who had by this
time come to the conclusion that the quarrel his brother insisted upon
fomenting might as well be brought to a head then as at any other time.
Titus was silent for a moment, and resumed his seat on the bench, from
which he had risen a dozen times in his excitement as the interview
proceeded. He looked as though he was gathering up his thoughts in order
to present his argument, as he evidently intended it should be, in the
most forcible manner.
"If a man has two brothers, and one of them goes back on him, is that
any reason why the other should go back on him?" asked the dissatisfied
one with more coolness and dignity than he had before exhibited.
Mrs. Amelia, years before, had tried to reform his language, picked up
in the taverns and among coarse associates, and she had succeeded to
some extent. He could talk with a fair degree of correctness; but he had
two methods of expression, one of which he called his "Sunday lingo,"
used on state occasions, and his ordinary speech at home and among his
chosen associates, enlarged by the addition of some Southern words and
phrases. He began his argument in his best style, though he had never
been able to banish his use of the milder slang.
"Decidedly not," replied Noah very promptly. "On the contrary, he ought
to stand by the brother if he has been wronged."
"That is just exactly what you have not done, Noah Lyon!" exclaimed
Titus, springing from his seat again. "And Nathan said unto David, 'Thou
art the man!'"
"Which means that I am the man," answered Noah, his smile becoming
almost a laugh. "I didn't know, Brother Titus, that I was the David, and
I must ask you to explain."
"Dunk went back on me," continued the malcontent, recalling the name by
which the colonel was known on the farm in his boyhood.
"I was not aware that Dunk did any such a thing. I suppose you mean in
his will."
"That is just what I mean!" stormed Titus. "He gave you ten thousand
dollars more than he gave me; and that was not fair or right."
"But the will explains why he did so."
"On account of fetching up them two children! I wouldn't have brought in
any bill for taking care of my dead brother's children. I ain't one of
them sort!" protested Titus.
"But you refused to take one of them into your family when I proposed it
to you," suggested Noah very gently.
"Because my wife was sick at the time," said Titus, wincing at the
remark.
"You did not offer to take one of them afterwards. But I did not bring
in any bill; I never even mentioned the matter to the colonel when I
wrote to him. I boarded, clothed, and schooled them for ten years, and
paid all their doctor's bills."
"But Dunk gave you ten thousand dollars for it; and it wasn't right. He
spent a month with you in Derry not long before he died, and you
smoothed his fur in the right way," snarled Titus.
"But the children were not mentioned. I am sure it cost me a thousand
dollars a year to take care of the children; but I did not complain, and
never asked you or Dunk to pay a cent of the cost. The colonel made his
will to suit himself; and he never spoke or wrote of the matter to me."
"You got on the right side of him, and he cheated me out of what
rightfully belonged to me. I ain't talking about law, but about right.
Half of that ten thousand belongs to me, and you are keeping me out of
it."
"It was right for you and Dunk to pay as much for supporting the orphans
as I did. Then you and he owed me two-thirds of the sum bequeathed to
me. At compound interest that would amount to more than I receive under
the will. I will figure it up when I have time, and of course if you owe
me anything on this account, you will pay me."
This argument completely overwhelmed Titus; but Levi had concluded there
would be no violence, and dashed over the bridge on his fiery colt.
CHAPTER IX
A MOST UNREASONABLE BROTHER
Titus Lyon dropped into his seat once more when Levi approached. He
scowled at the manager as he swept by with a bow to his employer. He had
been talking very loud about what was fair and right, and he could not
deny that the expense of supporting the orphans ought to be divided
among the three brothers. According to Noah's calculation, the boot had
been transferred to the other leg, and he owed his brother something on
this account if the matter was to be equitably adjusted.
Titus could not gainsay the position of the planter, and he tried to
choke down his wrath; and just then he would have vented it upon the
innocent overseer if he had not flown like the wind across the bridge,
making the planks dance a hornpipe under the feet of his steed. As the
malcontent was silent for the want of an argument with which to combat
that of his brother, Noah went over the subject, and clinched the nail
he had driven in before.
"I'll look the thing over again when I go home, for I want to be fair
and right in everything I do," said Titus, after he had sought in vain
for an argument with which he could upset the theory of Noah. "I only
claimed that you owed me half of the ten thousand; I didn't ask for the
whole on't."
"You never asked for even half of it before; you only told others that I
owed you that sum," replied Noah.
"Well, I believed it."
"In that case neither you nor the colonel would pay anything towards the
support of the children for ten years, for the law would divide the
property equally between us," replied Noah. "I can't tell exactly how
the matter stands till I figure it up; but I think you will owe me
something if we settle it on the basis you suggest."
"I guess we'd better drop the subject till we have both looked it over
agin," added Titus, utterly disgusted with the result of the argument.
"I don't say that Dunk hadn't a right to dispose of his property as he
pleased; but jest s'pose'n he had left it all to me and gi'n you
nothin'--would that been right?"
"If he had had any reason for doing so, it would have been his right to
do so; but I should say I should not be in condition to be an impartial
judge in the matter," said Noah with a smile.
"Did he have any reason for treating me any wus than he did you?" asked
Titus sharply, as he sprang to his feet again. "Dunk wa'n't no
abolitionist, and went with the folks round here on politics. He 'n' I
agreed, and never had no dispute on these things."
"I don't think the colonel did treat you any worse than he did me. He
chose to pay for supporting the orphans, though I never asked him to do
so, or hinted at any such thing. We have talked that over, and nothing
more need be said about it now. I have indicated how that thing might be
fairly settled, and we will let it rest there."
"But I still say Dunk used me wus 'n he did you; and as a brother you
are in duty bound to set me right, as you said one of the same blood
should do."
"I don't understand you, Brother Titus; for I am not aware that the
colonel treated me any better in his will than he did you," replied
Noah, wondering what further complaint his brother could make.
"Didn't he give five thousand dollars to that cuss that just rid over
the bridge?" demanded Titus with a sort of triumphant tone and manner,
as though he had the planter where no argument could avail him. "That
was just the same as taking twenty-five hundred dollars out of my
pocket, as well as out of yours."
"But you don't bear in mind, my dear brother, that the colonel was
disposing of his own property, and not yours or mine," said Noah with a
pronounced laugh at the absurdity of the other's position.
"Don't go to dearin' me, Noah; it will be time enough for that sort of
thing when you've done me justice," snarled Titus.
"When I've done you justice!" exclaimed the planter, rising from his
seat again to vent his mirth. "I must do you justice because your
brother and mine gave Levi Bedford five thousand dollars! Must I pay you
twenty-five hundred dollars on this account?"
"I didn't say so."
"But you implied it; for you were trying to prove that the colonel used
me better than he did you. It seems to me that you ought to make your
claim on Levi, if anybody."
"You git ahead faster'n I do. I only meant to say that Dunk didn't use
me right when he gave his money to this mean whelp; but he treated you
as bad as he did me, Noah."
"I have no complaint whatever to make, and I am glad the colonel
remembered Levi handsomely; he deserved it, for he had always been a
useful and faithful overseer," added Noah very decidedly.
"Let that rest," said Titus when he found that he made no headway in the
direction he had chosen. "I s'pose you won't agree with me, but I say
Dunk ought to have left this place to me instid of you. I was his oldest
brother, and I have lived here eight years, and know all about the
plantation, while you never saw it till after Dunk was dead."
"I am inclined to think the colonel knew what he was about, and he made
his will to suit himself," answered Noah.
"I should think he made it to suit you. Of course I know it's law, but
it wa'n't right," growled Titus.
"If you think it was not right, why don't you contest the will, and have
it set aside?"
"Don't I say it was law; and I suppose it can't be helped now," and the
injured man tried to put on an air of resignation. "But I ain't done."
"I should say you had said enough; for there seems to be no foundation
for any of your complaints. I think the colonel meant to be fair and
just, and make an equal distribution of his property between you and me.
Taking out fifteen thousand dollars he gave to charity and his
friends"--
"That was giving away what belonged to you and me," interposed the
objector.
"You are as unreasonable as a pig in a cornfield, Brother Titus!"
exclaimed Noah, whose abundant patience was on the verge of exhaustion.
"Duncan was giving away his own property, and not yours or mine, as you
appear to think he was, especially yours; for I believe he did just
right. Taking out the fifteen thousand and the ten he paid for the
support of the orphans,--which I suppose you mean to have settled up in
another way,--there was seventy-five thousand dollars left, which he
divided equally among his brothers and the representatives of the one
who died over ten years ago. That is according to the valuation annexed
to the will."
"It's mighty strange, Noah, that you can't see nothin' when it's p'inted
out to you," stormed Titus, his wrath rising to the boiling point at his
repeated defeats; for, "though vanquished, he could argue still."
"I don't believe at all in your pointing, Brother Titus."
"You talk about that valuation; but it was a fraud, and it was meant to
cheat me out of eight or ten thousand dollars!" roared the malcontent,
gesticulating violently. "It ought to been thirty thousand dollars
more'n 'twas! I say it out loud; and I know what I'm talkin' about!"
"I don't think you do, Brother Titus. I think you had better stop
drinking whiskey for a week, and then we can talk this subject over more
satisfactorily."
"Do you mean to accuse me of bein' drunk, Noah Lyon?" demanded Titus,
shaking his fist in the face of his brother; and at this moment that
colt was dashing over the bridge at a dead run, with Levi on his back.
"I don't think you are drunk, Brother Titus, as tipplers understand the
word, but you are under the influence of liquor, and it affects your
judgment," replied Noah as gently as though he had been speaking in a
prayer-meeting.
"Then you mean that I _am_ drunk!"
[Illustration: "THEN YOU MEAN I AM DRUNK."]
Both of his fists were clinched, and he was shaking one in the face of
the planter, when the bay colt dashed in between them, Noah falling back
before the menacing demonstration of Titus. Levi had dismounted at the
end of the bridge, and seated himself in the arbor where he could still
see the two men. When Titus shook his fist in the face of the planter,
he leaped upon the colt as though he had been fifty pounds lighter, and
galloped to the scene of the wordy contest.
"What do you want here?" demanded the visitor, with a very unnecessary
expletive.
"What is it, Levi?" asked Noah.
"I didn't know but you might want me," replied the manager; but the
demonstrative person was his employer's brother, and he refrained from
using the strong language that came to his tongue's end.
"I don't want you for anything just now, Levi," replied the planter,
sorry that there should have been a witness to the stormy interview with
his brother; and he wondered if he had not been too plain-spoken, mild
and dignified as he had been.
"What do you mean, you scoundrel, by stickin' your nose in where you're
not wanted?" demanded Titus savagely, as he shook his fist, relieved
from duty before the planter, in the direction of the overseer.
Levi wheeled his horse so that he crowded the angry man out of his
place, and made him spring to keep out of the way of the fiery animal;
but he made no reply to the abuse cast upon him. Noah nodded his head in
the direction of the mansion, and the manager rode off, though it was
evident to his employer that he was itching to lay hands on the
turbulent visitor.
"I hate that villain!" gasped Titus.
"And he despises you as thoroughly as you hate him; so there is no love
lost. But I think you had better conduct yourself a little more
peaceably, Titus; for I do not like to have the people on the plantation
see that there is any difficulty between us, for we are brothers, I wish
you to remember. Perhaps we had better drop the subject where it is, for
it is almost suppertime," said Noah with the most conciliatory tone and
manner.
"Not jest yet," returned Titus warmly. "I said that valuation was a
fraud, meant to cheat me out of my rightful due; and you told me I was
drunk, which ain't no kind of an argument."
"I did not say that exactly; but if it was an argument for anything, it
was that we should talk this matter over some time when you had not
drunk anything."
"I drink something everyday; and I have a perfect right to do so."
"I don't dispute it."
"Dunk gave you all the niggers, and did not put them in the valuation.
Wasn't that cheating me out of my share of the thirty thousand they
would bring even in these shaky times?"
"I don't think it was. I repeat that the colonel had a perfect right,
just as good a right as you have to drink whiskey, though I don't do so,
to dispose of his property as he pleased," added Noah, looking down at
the planks of the bridge, and remaining for a minute in deep thought.
"That ain't no argument!" blustered Titus. "The law gives a man's
property to his brothers and sisters when he leaves no parents or
children; and every honest and just man does the same thing."
"I did not mean to say anything to anybody about the servants on the
place; but I feel obliged to speak to you about them so far as to tell
the facts relating to them," said Noah when he had come to this
conclusion.
"I cal'late you better speak out if you've got anything to say, or else
pay me over fifteen thousand dollars for my share in the value of them
niggers," replied Titus with a triumphant air, for he believed he had
gained a point.
"When I was at Colonel Cosgrove's house on the day of our arrival, he
handed me a letter, heavily sealed with red wax, from our deceased
brother. This letter contained another. I have both of these letters in
the safe in the library. Now, if you will go to the house with me, I
will show you both of these letters," continued the planter,
disregarding the tone and manner of his irate brother.
Titus was curious to know what the colonel had to say in defence of his
conduct, and he assented to the visit to the library. Noah produced the
two letters, handing the opened one to his brother, and showing the
heavily sealed one to him but not permitting it to pass out of his
hands. The malcontent read the opened one.
"Not to sell one of the niggers for five years!" he exclaimed when he
had finished it. "That is another outrage! And you are not to open that
other letter for the same time. Give it to me, Noah, and I will open it
now!"
"It shall not be opened till the five years have expired," answered the
planter firmly, as he returned both of the epistles to the safe and
locked the door of it.
Titus was more violent than ever, for he had been defeated in his last
and most promising stronghold, as he regarded it. He stormed like a
madman, and kept it up for nearly an hour. He made so much noise that
Mrs. Noah knocked at the door to learn what was the matter. At the same
time she called them to supper; but Titus was so angry that he rushed
out of the house, called for his team, and left with his wife at once.
CHAPTER X
THE SINK-CAVERN NEAR BAR CREEK
The supper at the mansion had waited till it was quite dark; and it was
evident to Mrs. Noah that the brothers were engaged in important
business, for they had been talking on the bridge all the afternoon, and
Titus spoke so loud in the library that he could be heard all over the
house, though he could not be understood. Something very exciting was
passing between them; Mrs. Noah thought it was politics, but Mrs. Titus
thought it was about "that story" she had repeated.
As the angry brother passed the door of the sitting-room he called his
wife out, and bolted from the house. Noah followed, and rang the stable
bell. Frank brought the team to the door; Titus pushed his suffering
wife into it, and drove off without the formality of saying good-night.
The planter ate his supper, and was as pleasant as usual, saying nothing
of the business which had brought Titus to Riverlawn.
"It seems that story about the arms and ammunition has no truth at all
in it," said Mrs. Noah.
"So Titus says," replied the husband.
"Meely was terribly excited about it, and said she ought not to have
said a word about it. She begged me not to let any one in the house say
anything about it to any one. Her husband abused her, and even struck
her, for what she had done."
"I did not know but he would strike me this afternoon. I suppose the
boys have had their supper," added Noah, looking over the table to their
vacant places.
"No, they have not; I haven't seen anything of them since they went from
dinner," answered Mrs. Lyon. "I wonder where they are?"
"They went up the creek together in one of the boats just after Titus
came, and I haven't seen or heard anything of them since," said Noah. "I
don't think they were going a-fishing. They have been gone about seven
hours now, and it is time they were at home. Did you see anything of
them, Levi?"
"I saw them rowing up the creek when I was riding up to the hill
pasture; but I haven't seen them since," replied the overseer.
"I hope nothing has happened to them," continued Mrs. Lyon, looking
quite anxious. "Perhaps the boat has been upset."
"I don't believe it did; but if it went over, both of the boys can swim
like ducks," replied the planter.
The conversation in regard to the absentees was continued till the meal
was finished, and all the party were very much troubled. Levi
volunteered to ride up the creek road and look for them; and just as he
was going to the stable, the absentees came into the house.
"Where in the world have you been, boys?" demanded Mrs. Lyon, delighted
to find they were safe.
"We have been exploring the creek, and we have been a good ways up, as
far as the rocky hills," replied Deck, as he seated himself at the
table; and Diana went for the waffles she had kept hot for them.
"Did you catch any fish?" asked Levi.
"Not a fish; we did not put a line into the water."
They had no narrative to relate, or if they had they did not relate it,
though they were questioned for some time, and they told what they had
seen, or a portion of it.
"While you are here, boys, I want to tell you that your Aunt Amelia has
been at the house all the afternoon," said Mrs. Lyon. "She came to take
back that story she told me this morning in her own house about the arms
and ammunition. She misunderstood your uncle, and there is not a word of
truth in it. So you will understand, all of you, that not a word is to
be said about it out of the house."
"Not a word of truth in it!" exclaimed Deck; and Artie dropped his hot
waffle in astonishment, or under the influence of some other emotion.
"Your aunt says there are no arms hidden on the river, or anywhere else.
You mustn't say a word about the matter, and I have cautioned all in the
house not to whisper a sound of it," added Mrs. Lyon.
Deck looked at Artie, and Artie looked at Deck. A significant smile
passed between them, but they said nothing. As soon as they had finished
their supper they followed the planter into his library, which had been
lighted before. It was an important conference which followed there, and
it must be left in progress in order to return to the boat in which the
boys were pursuing their adventure on the creek.
Artie had the floor on the boat, and he had just recalled the time when
Noah had spoken to him about being out so late the night before. Deck
remembered it very well, and also that his cousin had evaded an adequate
explanation of his absence from the house when he ought to have been in
bed.
"You never explained why you were out so late that night," said he.
"I wanted to look into the matter a little more before I said anything,
for I didn't care to make a fool of myself," replied Artie.
"You have a habit of keeping your mouth shut pretty tight," said Deck
with a smile.
"I don't believe in talking too much about things you don't understand,
and I meant to have looked into the matter before this time, but somehow
I haven't had the chance to do so," replied Artie, still pulling his
oar. "I'm going to tell you about my night adventure now, and you can
judge for yourself whether we are going on a wild-goose chase up the
creek."
"All right; and I will keep my oar moving all the time, so that we shall
be getting ahead while I listen," replied Deck.
"I was in the canoe, and I had gone farther up the creek than I had ever
been before," Artie began. "You have been up the road that leads to
Dripping Spring and the Mammouth Cave. It crosses the railroad about
five miles before you get to the spring, and the creek flows within a
quarter of a mile of this place."
"I remember the place very well; for Levi stopped his team there to let
the girls get out and pick some flowers. I could see the creek from this
spot," added Deck.
"Then you know the place. I had been up the creek three or four miles
farther, and I was on my way home. I had been ashore just abreast of
Dripping Spring, and I got interested in looking over a sink,--I believe
that is what they call these holes in the ground down here,--and the sun
went down before I thought how late it was getting. But I found the hole
led into a cave; but it was too dark for me to explore it. I made a note
of it, to bring a lantern up and survey the cavern when I had plenty of
time to do so."
"That will be a good job for both of us some time," suggested Deck.
"I couldn't tell how far I was from home, but I knew it was a long
distance, and I made tracks for the canoe as soon as I saw that it was
getting dark. I hurried up till my arms ached so that I had to stop and
rest. I made up my mind that I must take it moderately or I never should
get home.
"While I was resting I saw three lights off to the south of me, and then
I knew I was near that road. I could make out about half a dozen men or
boys there, and I watched them for some time. I concluded that they were
up to some mischief, and in my interest I forgot how late it was
getting. I was possessed to know what iniquity was going on there, and I
hauled the canoe up to the shore and made the painter fast to a bush. I
landed, and made my way as near to the road as I dared to go. The ground
was low, and covered with clumps of bushes, so I had no difficulty in
hiding myself till I was within twenty feet of the party.
"I could hear every word they said; and the man who was bossing the job,
whatever it was, satisfied me that he was Uncle Titus."
"Uncle Titus!" exclaimed Deck, ceasing to row in his astonishment.
"Not the least doubt of it; and more than this, I soon recognized the
tones of Sandy and Orly; but I don't know who the other three were."
"But what were they doing?" asked Deck, absorbed in the narrative.
"You have stopped rowing, Deck, and we shall never get there at this
rate."
The stroke oarsman turned his body so that he could change hands at the
handle of the oar, and then resumed pulling.
"Well, this was an adventure; but you didn't tell me what they were
doing," added Deck.
"I will tell you all about it, but don't stop rowing, or we shall not
get home before midnight, and father will give us a lecture for being
out late at night. The men were handling a lot of boxes. Some of them
were long enough to hold coffins, and I wondered if they hadn't been
killing Union men, and were getting rid of the bodies. Then they brought
out a lot of haypoles or hand-barrows from the two big wagons in the
road. I saw them put one of the boxes on the poles or barrow, and move
towards the creek. I thought it was about time for me to be leaving, for
I believed they would kill me if they caught me."
"They wouldn't have let you off with a whole skin, anyhow," said Deck.
"Do you suppose the boxes contained bodies, Artie?"
"Hold on till I come to it, and I will tell you all about it," replied
the narrator rather impatiently. "I wasn't safe where I was, and I crept
back to the creek between the clumps of bushes without making a bit of
noise on the soft ground. The box the first couple carried was heavy and
the bushes were in their way, so that they could not get along very
fast. As soon as I was out of hearing of the party, I ran with all my
might."
"I don't blame you for being in a hurry, for if Uncle Titus had got hold
of you he would have made you see more stars then were in the sky just
then. I wonder if they had been killing Union men. The Seceshers have
done that thing in this State. A Union man was murdered in his own house
not far from here."
"Dry up, Deck, or I shall never get through with my story!" exclaimed
Artie, who did not relish these repeated interruptions.
"Go on, Artie; I won't say another word," Deck promptly promised.
"I reached the creek, and cast off the canoe. I crossed over to the
other side, and pulled down stream; for I knew that the two with the box
could not be near the shore. I kept on towards home, but I was careful
not to make any noise with my oars. Just below I saw a big flatboat,
like the gundalow they used to have on the river to carry hay from the
meadows. I drove the canoe into some bushes, and waited. The two men
brought that long box to the shore, and loaded it into the flatboat,
which was big enough to carry six cords of wood.
"The next load was brought by four men; and I could see by the way they
handled it that it was very heavy. I stopped till they had brought down
two more boxes, and then I thought it was time for me to be going. When
the party had all left the shore I rowed along by the bushes that
overhang the creek till I got round the bend. I didn't wait to see any
more, but rowed as fast as I could; and when I got to the pier I was so
tired I could hardly stand up. That is the end of the story, Deck, and
you know as much about the affair as I do; and I will answer all of your
questions as well as I can."
"You did not find out anything for certain?" added the listener,
disappointed because his cousin had not ascertained what was in the
boxes.
"I did not; but I have been able to guess at some things; and that is
the privilege of a New England Yankee."
"Well, what do you guess was in those boxes?"
"I didn't guess on that question at the time of it; but I was satisfied
that they concealed some sort of iniquity."
"What do you suppose they were putting them in the boat for?"
"Not to take them down the river, for they would have carried them to
some place on its banks if they had wanted to do that. They wanted to
take them up the creek, and this was the nearest point to it."
"What did they want to do with the boxes? Oh, I know! They were going to
sink the bodies in the creek!" exclaimed Deck.
"That would have been a good enough guess a fortnight ago; but it isn't
worth shucks now. I told you before that I could explain things better
this afternoon than I could when I saw what the men were doing."
"How is that?" asked Deck with his mouth half open.
"The moment mother told that story from Aunt Amelia, I knew what was in
the boxes; and they did not contain bodies, either."
"Oh, I see! They contained the arms and ammunition."
"A blind man could see that."
"Well, that was an adventure. You mean that they were going to put them
in the cavern by the sink?"
"Precisely that, and nothing less; and now we are going up to the sink
to see for ourselves what is in the boxes," replied Artie.
They had a long pull before them; but they reached the place by five
o'clock, and explored the cavern. They found the boxes and two cannons
with their carriages. They could not open the boxes for the want of any
tools; but the labels assured them they contained muskets and revolvers.
They hastened down the creek; but it was eight o'clock when they reached
the mansion.
CHAPTER XI
AROUSED TO THE SOLEMN DUTY OF THE HOUR
It was more than two hours after suppertime when Deck and Artie arrived.
They were very tired and very hungry after their long pull up the creek;
but they felt better after they had taken a hearty supper. Deck sought
the first opportunity to detail the operations of the afternoon to his
father.
"Your Uncle Titus has been here this afternoon, and I have had a long
talk with him on the bridge; but his first business here was to disclaim
any knowledge of the arms and ammunition concealed on the river," said
Mr. Lyon, before the boys had an opportunity to open with the story of
their adventure. "He says your Aunt Amelia understood him with her
elbows, and it was a ridiculous story she told your mother without a
word of truth in it."
"Without a word of truth in it," repeated Deck, who was more inclined
than Artie to do the talking, though the latter was fluent enough of
speech when the occasion required it.
The boys looked at each other; and they did something more than smile
this time, for they laughed out loud. In view of the revelation they had
to make, the affair became more exciting; but after the discovery they
had made, they did not wonder that Titus had been so earnest in his
purpose to contradict the statement their aunt had made.
"What are you laughing at, boys?" interposed their father. "This is a
serious matter as your uncle looks upon it; and I suppose such a rumor
circulated about the county might get him and his sons into trouble. The
Unionists regard the Home Guards as precisely the same as Secessionists,
and believe that they are armed, so far as they are armed, to help along
the cause of the South."
"I should say that Uncle Titus might be a little shaken up about the
story Aunt Amelia related," added Artie with a significant look at his
cousin.
"I don't know but the Union people would mob him if they believed he had
obtained arms for any Home Guards, especially for such ruffians as they
say he has been gathering together for his company," said Mr. Lyon. "I
have cautioned all who heard the story not to mention or hint at it in
the strongest manner; for of course I don't want to get your uncle into
trouble by repeating a false rumor."
"Suppose he gets himself into trouble?" suggested Deck. "He is an
out-and-out Secesher, and he don't make any bones of saying so out loud.
Sandy thinks they will break up the Union meeting at the schoolhouse
to-morrow night."
"Titus says he has done his best to prevent anything of the kind being
done," replied Mr. Lynn. "He thinks I should be mobbed and this house
burned over our heads if he did not use his influence to prevent it. But
your uncle believes what he wants to believe, and is certain a vast
majority of the people of the county are Secessionists. I am very well
satisfied that they are at least about equally divided. At any rate, the
Secessionists are doing their best to overawe the Union people, and they
might succeed to some extent if they could arm the villains they have
enrolled."
"Then it is better not to let them be armed," suggested Deck, with a
glance at his cousin.
"The story your mother told at dinner made it look as though they were
to be provided with weapons and ammunition at once; but the statement is
not true, and we appear to be safe for the present," said Mr. Lyon. "But
where have you been all the afternoon, boys?"
"Deck will tell the story, father," replied Artie.
"You led off in this business, Artie, and I think you had better tell
it," said Deck, though he was ready enough to relate the adventure.
"We will both tell it, then," added Artie. "I will begin and go as far
as where you joined me this afternoon at the bridge, and you shall tell
the rest of it."
"All right; fire away, Artie."
In accordance with this arrangement, the boys minutely narrated the
events of the afternoon, to the great astonishment and indignation of
Mr. Lyon. He occasionally interrupted his son to ask questions in regard
to the boxes they had examined in the cavern. The boys described the
cases, with the marks upon them, and the listener had no doubt they
contained arms and ammunition. The two carriages for the field-pieces
were the only portion of the warlike material not contained in boxes;
and these were almost evidence enough to determine the character of the
rest of the goods.
"Were the boxes all of the same kind?" asked the father, deeply
interested, and not a little disturbed by the revelation of the evening.
"They were not the same," replied Deck, taking a paper from his pocket,
on which he had written down a list of the cases. "The lid of one of the
two in which the cannon were boxed up had been split off in part, so
that we could see what was in it. Twelve cases were labelled
'Breech-loading Rifles,' and the rest of the lot were marked with the
kind of ammunition they contained. The smallest of them had cannon-balls
and grape in them."
"There isn't any doubt about the matter now," replied Mr. Lyon. "This
means war; and I have no doubt they are to be used in this county by
your uncle's cut-throats; for that is what they are according to what
Colonel Cosgrove said to me the other day. This is bad business," and
the planter gazed at the floor, his wrinkled brow indicating the deep
thought in which he was engaged.
"Sandy says the company of Home Guards is about full, and I suppose they
will not leave the arms and ammunition in the cavern for any great
length of time," suggested Deck.
"Something must be done," said Mr. Lyon. "If that company get these
weapons they will terrorize the whole county. There are some very strong
Unionists in this vicinity. Colonel Cosgrove told me they had threatened
to burn his house, though he is a very conservative man. He was in favor
of neutrality; but he admits that the Home Guards in this county are
about all Secessionists. Your Uncle Titus says I am looked upon as an
abolitionist, and if it had not been for him they would have 'cleaned me
out,' as he called it, before this time. It is time something was done,"
and the planter relapsed into a revery again.
The boys were silent. Fort Sumter had been bombarded, and its heroic
garrison had marched out with the honors of war. The country was in a
state of war. The call of the President for seventy-five thousand men
had been made. Northern soldiers were marching South for the protection
of Washington. Flags were flying, drums were beating, trumpets were
blaring, and troops were organizing all over the loyal nation.
In Kentucky men were enlisting in both armies, though the majority of
them clung to the flag of the Union, inspired by the traditions of the
State. But large portions of it were subjected to a reign of terror. One
party was struggling to carry the State out of the Union, and the other
to keep it in the Union. The county in which Noah Lyon and his family
were located was even more shaken by these discordant elements than most
of the others; for it was not more than thirty miles from the southern
boundary of the State.
"It almost breaks my heart to have my only living brother associated
with, and even leading, these conspirators against the Union," Mr. Lyon
resumed, as he wiped some tears from his eyes. "But when it comes to the
defence of the old flag under which we have become the most enlightened
and prosperous nation in the world, no true man can favor even his
brother when he plots to ruin it. Something must be done!" he repeated
with energy as he rose to his feet, and emphasized his remark with a
vigorous stamp of his foot.
"What shall be done, father?" asked Deck, awed by the manner and the
tears of his father; and he had never been so moved before in his life.
"We must defend the old flag, my boys! We must rally with those who are
marching to the defence of the Union! The time for talking has gone by,
and the time for action has come. I have not passed the military age,
and I shall not shirk the plain duty of the citizen, which is to become
a soldier," replied Mr. Lyon impressively.
"Do you mean to say that you shall join the army, father?" asked Deck.
"Certainly; what else can I do at a time like this?" replied the father.
"And that is not all, my son; you and Artemas are now sixteen years old,
nearly seventeen. You are both stout boys; and not only the sire, but
the sons, must shoulder the musket and march to the battle-field."
"I am ready for one!" exclaimed Deck with enthusiasm.
"I am ready for the other!" added Artie quite as earnestly.
"For some time I have seen that this was what we must come to; but I
have put off saying anything about it, for it is a solemn and even an
awful thing to engage in the strife of civil war, brother against
brother, the son against his father, and the father against his son."
"In our own family, we shall all be on the same side," added Deck.
"But your uncle and his two sons will be with the enemies of the Union.
It is not of our choosing, and God will be with us while we do our duty
to our country," said the patriot father, as he solemnly lifted his eyes
upward. "Now, my sons, for you both call me father, and I have always
tried to be the same to both of you"--
"And you always have been! And Aunt Ruth has been a mother to me and my
sister Dorcas!" interposed Artie, as he wiped the tears from his eyes.
"I shall never again call either of you anything but father or mother. I
am ready to enlist whenever you say the word, father."
"You are honest and true, and that is the kind of man you will make, my
son; and I can say the same of Dexter. You will both make good
soldiers."
Both the father and the sons shed tears as they realized, as they never
had before, the solemn duty which the peril of the Union imposed upon
them; and they were inspired to do that duty to the last drop of their
life-blood.
"There, boys! I did not intend to make a scene like this; but the
finding of the arms and ammunition convinces me that your Uncle Titus
and his villanous associates mean to make war upon loyal men in this
county. When you join the ranks of the Union army, you will find them
all in the columns of the enemy. You have done good service to our cause
in the discovery and ferreting out of this conspiracy against the true
men of this locality."
"It was all by accident that I found out about it," added Artie
modestly.
"I hope you will forgive me for scolding at you for being out so late
that night," said Mr. Lyon.
"You didn't scold me; you only gave me some good advice, and I hope I
shall always remember it. But I did not know then what I had discovered,
or where they were storing the arms."
"You did exceedingly well, whether you knew what you were doing or not.
Now it is driven into my very soul that I ought not to let the enemy
profit by obtaining those arms. I have made up my mind that it would be
treason, or next door to it, for me to let Titus and his gang have all
these weapons; and with the blessing of God they never shall have them!"
"That is the talk, father!" exclaimed Deck.
"So say we all of us!" Artie chimed in. "But what can we do?"
"Before the light of to-morrow morning breaks upon Riverlawn, we must
move all those boxes to the plantation," replied Mr. Lyon; and he
proceeded to discuss the means by which this purpose could be
accomplished.
"We have teams enough to haul the whole of them over here at one load,"
said Deck, boiling over with enthusiasm.
"Keep cool, my son, for we must be very prudent in our movements. Do you
know what became of the flatboat with which the conspirators moved the
cases up to the cavern?"
"Artie thought of that; and we found the gundalow in a little inlet at
the mouth of a brook, covered up with bushes."
"Then we may use that," replied the planter. "But I am in doubt about
one thing which may bother us."
"What's that, father?" asked Deck, who could not think of any impediment
to the carrying out of the plan announced by his father.
"I don't know that we can depend upon every person about the plantation.
A single one opposed to our scheme could ruin it. He might go to the
village and tell Titus, or some of his fellow-conspirators, what we were
about, and interfere with us before we got back."
"No one here would do such a thing," protested Deck. "All the servants
believe in you."
"I was thinking of Levi Bedford."
"Levi!" exclaimed both of the loyal boys together.
"I have never spoken a word to him about politics, or he to me.
Absolutely all I know about him is that he is a Tennesseean. But we must
settle this point on the instant; you may go and find him, Dexter, and
ask him to come into the library."
Deck left the room. He found the overseer in the sitting-room with the
family, and he returned with him a minute later.
CHAPTER XII
THE NIGHT EXPEDITION IN THE MAGNOLIA
Levi Bedford walked into the library not a little excited with
curiosity; for Titus Lyon had spent the whole afternoon on the bridge
with the planter, who had been closeted with the two boys for some time.
It was evident to him that something unusual had occurred. Noah was
seated in a great arm-chair which usually faced his desk, but he had
turned it around. The overseer walked up to this chair, and planted
himself in front of it with a respectful look of inquiry on his round
face.
"I am in doubt, Levi, and I have sent for you," Mr. Lyon began. "As you
are aware, I have never talked politics with you, and have not known to
which party you belong."
"I don't belong to any party," replied Levi with a very broad smile on
his face. "My party is the plantation and the family. I look out for
them, and I don't bother my head much about anything else."
"I suppose you have relatives in Tennessee?" suggested the planter.
"Second or third cousins very likely; but I don't know anything about
them, and I don't lie awake nights thinking of them. My father died
before I was twenty-one; I had no sisters, and my only brother went to
California twenty years ago, and I haven't heard from him in ten years."
"I don't mean to meddle with your affairs, Levi, but the time has come
when every man, must declare himself."
"I should think it had, Mr. Lyon; and this afternoon I thought I was
going to have a chance to strike for your side of the house. I was ready
to do it, for two or three times I thought you were in peril. I don't
know what you were talking about, only it was something very stirring,"
replied Levi with his usual smile.
"I don't think I was in any danger, but I am very much obliged to you
for looking out for me. Now things have come to such a pass that I must
put a direct question to you: Are you a Union man or a Secessionist?"
"I am a Union man now from the crown of my foot to the sole of my head,"
laughed Levi. "But it wouldn't be anything more than honest and square,
Major Lyon, for me to say that I haven't been so many months. Colonel
Lyon was a Union man; but he didn't have it half as bad as you have it.
Some of his neighbors thought he was too tender with his people; but he
and Colonel Cosgrove were pretty well matched on politics."
"He is a strong Union man, though he is in favor of neutrality if it can
be carried out, which is utterly impossible," added the planter.
"About the only thing in the row that set me to thinking and made me mad
was that such a set of reckless scallawags have run the machine on the
other side. There is hardly a man of any standing among them. I know
that your brother, who is nothing but a Northern doughface, is one of
the principal leaders among them, and--"
"We haven't any time to talk about this matter now, Levi," interposed
Noah Lyon, looking at his watch. "I see that you are all right, for you
are a Union man, and you do not approve the course of the violent party
in this county, and the time has come for the boys and me to do
something."
The planter proceeded in rather hurried speech to state the situation,
and to describe the discovery the boys had made that afternoon. The
overseer evidently had a very strong desire to express his mind in
regard to Titus Lyon; but with great effort he restrained himself, and
listened almost in silence to the narrative of the speaker.
"I am with you in this matter, Major Lyon, on its merits, though I like
to be on your side; but these ruffians who are trying to make civil war
in the State of Kentucky must be checked," he replied, when the planter
had hurried through his statement. "I am sorry that brother of yours
used any of the money the colonel left him to buy arms and ammunition to
help drag the State out of the Union. I will work day and night to
euchre him and the rest of them."
"You are just the right man in the right place, Levi Bedford!" exclaimed
Mr. Lyon. "We have no time now to decide what we will do with these
warlike implements, only to get possession of them. It is quarter-past
nine now, and I have my plan for the beginning. While we are carrying it
out we can settle what is to be done with the arms."
"I know just where that sink-hole and cavern are, and all we have to do
to get there is to follow the creek," added the manager.
"The flatboat is near the place, and we can move the boxes in that, as
the conspirators conveyed them from the road," replied Mr. Lyon. "But
there are only four of us, two men and two boys. The cannons must weigh
six or seven hundred pounds apiece, and we shall want more help."
"Well, we have help enough, and we can take a dozen of the people with
us, if we want as many as that," added Levi. "I know something about
these things, for when I kept stable in my State I used to belong to an
artillery company."
"Can the negroes be trusted? We must keep our operations a profound
secret."
"In this business you can trust them a great deal farther than you can a
white man," said the overseer, as he took a piece of paper from the desk
and wrote down the names of some of the hands. "How many do you want,
Major Lyon?"
"Half a dozen; we can't accommodate more than that. Put in the boatmen,
for there is a deal of boating to be done."
Levi revised his list and then handed it to the planter.
"General, Dummy, Rosebud, Woolly, Mose, Faraway," Mr. Lyon read from the
list. "I should say you had picked out just the men we need. They are
all used to the boats, and they are among the toughest and strongest
hands on the place. Yon must put them under oath, if need be, to be as
secret as death itself. I will leave all that to you. Now, have them at
the lower boat pier just as soon as possible, and we will be there."
"I will have them there in fifteen minutes," replied Levi, as he
hastened to execute his mission.
"Now, boys, go to the pier, and get the Magnolia in condition to go up
the creek," continued Mr. Lyon.
"The Magnolia!" exclaimed Deck. "Why, she--"
"We have no time to argue any question, Dexter," interposed the father.
"Take your overcoats; and you are to be as secret as the rest of us. Ask
your mother to come into the library, but don't stop to talk, my son."
The boys left the room, and Mrs. Lyon immediately presented herself in
the library.
"What in the world is going on here to-night, Noah?" asked the good
woman. "Ever since the boys came in you have been closeted in here as if
you were planning something."
"So we are, Ruth, for the boys made a great discovery on their trip up
the creek," answered the planter hurriedly. "That story about the arms
and ammunition which Titus and Amelia came down here to disclaim and
deny was all as true as gospel, for the boys have found them."
In five minutes more Mr. Lyon told his wife all that it was necessary
for her to know, and charged her to be secret and silent. She seemed to
be alarmed; but he assured her that there was no danger in the
enterprise in which they were to engage. It was absolutely necessary
that the arms and munitions should be removed beyond the reach of the
conspirators. He asked her to bring him three lanterns without letting
any one see them, which she did at once. With these in his hands, the
planter left the house without going into the sitting-room.
Deck and Artie reached the boat-pier without speaking a word, and they
ran half the way. The Magnolia was moored out in the creek; and taking
the canoe, which was used as her tender when the sailboat was in
service, as it had not been since the death of the colonel, she was
towed alongside the pier. They went to work baling her out, of which she
was in great need, though she had been well cared for in her idleness by
the boatmen of the place.
The Magnolia had not been built for a sailboat. Site was long and narrow
for her length, about thirty feet, and was provided with rowlocks for
six oars. Before they had finished baling her out the General and Dummy
reached the wharf. They were great strapping negroes, fully six feet
tall, and the weight of each could not have been much below two hundred
pounds, though they were not of aldermanic build.
When they saw what the boys were doing,--for Levi had not given them
even a hint as to the nature of the service in which they were to be
employed,--they seized the buckets, and soon cleared the well of water.
Levi was the next to put in an appearance, just as Deck was telling the
two men to take the mast out of her, an order which the manager
countermanded.
"We may want the mast and sail," interposed Levi; "for the wind is fresh
from the south-west to-night, and I don't believe in doing any more work
with the oars than is necessary."
"But we have no boatman, and none of us know how to manage the sail,"
argued Deck. "It would be a bad time to get upset, and we have no time
to indulge in fooling, Levi."
"The mast and sail are not in the way in the boat. I am no boatman, and
I never tried to handle the Magnolia, for the colonel was the only
person on the place who ever learned the trick of doing that; but I
often sailed in her up and down the river, and I used to think I could
do it if I tried," replied the manager, as the other four negroes came
upon the pier.
"Oh, well, if you can handle her with a sail, that's another thing,"
answered Deck, yielding the point.
"Here, Rosebud, unlock the boathouse, and bring out six oars, the
biggest ones, and all the boathooks you can find," said Levi, as he
looked the boat over.
No one said a word about the mission upon which they were to embark,
leaving the planter to do all the talking when he came. General and
Dummy were the biggest of the six men who had been selected; but the
other four were stalwart fellows. Their names were rather odd, the
family thought when they first heard them; but not one of them bore the
one his mother had given him in his babyhood, for the colonel had
rechristened the whole of them on the plantation to suit his own fancy.
Some circumstance, or something in their appearance, had doubtless
suggested the names; but after they were given they clung to their
owners as though they had been recorded in a church. The General was a
quick-witted fellow, which inclined him to take the lead when anything
was to be done. Woolly had a tremendous mop of hair on his head. Dummy
was a preacher in the shanty which served as a church at the Big Bend;
and perhaps because he was always studying his sermons, he never spoke a
word unless the occasion required it; but Levi, who had heard him
preach, said he could talk fast enough in his pulpit, and delivered a
more sensible sermon than some white clergymen to whom he had listened.
Rosebud, like the overseer, always had a smile on his face, and could
hardly do or say anything without laughing. Mose did not swear
profanely, but "by Moses;" and everything was as true, as high, as big,
as handsome, as "Moses in de bulrushes." "Faraway" had been a pet word
with the one to whom the planter had given this name. They were all
reliable servants, and were devoted to their past and present masters.
No king, prince, or potentate had ever been as big a man in their
estimation as the colonel; and they had transferred this homage to the
"major," as they were inclined to call Mr. Lyon after they heard the
overseer use this title.
Levi placed the men in the boat, each with his oar, and then headed it
up the creek. The boys took their places in the stern-sheets, and the
overseer handled the tiller lines. These arrangements were no sooner
completed than the planter appeared, and took his place with the boys.
The rowers were sitting with the oars upright; for the General, who was
the stroke oarsman, had learned either from pictures in the illustrated
papers their former master used to give the hands when he had done with
them, or from some person more experienced than himself, some of the
forms used in boating.
"Drop your oars!" said Levi, and they all fell into the water together.
"Ought to say 'let fall,' Mars'r Levi," added General.
"No talk, General. Now gather up, and pull away!" continued Levi.
General would have given him the proper form, "Give way!" but Levi was
not in the humor to be instructed, and the rower said no more. The men
pulled their oars with a will, and the implements bent under their
vigorous stroke. The planter had run all the way from the mansion, and
was out of breath, so he was silent for a time.
CHAPTER XIII
AT THE HEAD WATERS OF BAR CREEK
It was quite dark when the Magnolia went out from the pier, though it
was a starlight night. The crew pulled very well, for the colonel had
taken no little pride in the appearance of his boat on the river. Before
his health was impaired he occasionally went to the county town by
water; for it was on a branch of the river, and was full thirty miles
distant by the winding streams.
The crew were powerful men, and had had plenty of practice in former
years. But the present planter preferred the vehicles, drawn by fine
horses, and the boys used the smaller boats, so the Magnolia had not
been manned under the new order of things. Under the vigorous stroke of
the negroes she soon passed under the bridge, and headed up the creek.
"We are fairly started, and this boat seems to be making at least five
miles an hour," said the planter, when he had fully recovered his
breath.
"More than that, I should say, Major Lyon. I don't believe the hands can
keep up this gait all the way; but we shall get to the sink about
midnight," replied Levi.
"I don't know that there is anything to apprehend in the way of danger,"
added Mr. Lyon.
"I don't know whether there is or not; but I put my revolver and a box
of cartridges into my pocket."
"I never owned a pistol of any kind, and have hardly fired a gun since I
was a boy; but in the storeroom out of the library I found some very
nice weapons,--a double-barrelled rifle and a fowling-piece."
"The colonel had two revolvers; and they must be somewhere about the
library. A few years ago some horse-thieves were in this vicinity, and
we kept a watch on the place every night for a couple of weeks," said
Levi.
"If Uncle Titus put five thousand dollars into these guns and pistols, I
should think he would be apt to keep a watch over them," suggested Deck.
"A watch would not amount to anything unless he put as many as half a
dozen men on it," answered Levi. "But I think he depends upon the
secrecy of his movements and the safety of the cavern for the security
of the arms. He put the things away in the night, and I don't believe
anybody ever goes over the spring road in the darkness. If he put a
watch anywhere he would station it on that road at the place where they
shifted the boxes from the wagon to the flatboat. But I reckon we can
take care of the watch if there is any there."
"But the road is about a quarter of a mile from the creek," said Deck.
"All of that; and we may pass the place without much of any noise, and
no one on the road would be likely to hear us," replied Levi.
"I don't think the watch, if there is one, will give us any trouble, for
if they hear us, we can keep out of their way; and I don't think they
would have any boat in the creek," added the planter. "Your revolver
will keep them at a proper distance when we reach the cavern."
"I found a shingling hatchet in the boathouse, and I brought that along
with me," said Artie.
"Are you going to fight with that?" asked Deck.
"Not exactly that; but we couldn't open one of the boxes this afternoon
for the want of a tool, and we can do so with this hatchet; then we
shall have all the muskets, revolvers, and cartridges we can use,"
replied Artie.
"That is a good scheme, my boy," added Levi approvingly. "But I don't
believe we shall have to do any fighting. If the conspirators have set a
watch, it must be in the road; and I reckon we shall clean out the
cavern before they can get there."
"We won't fight any battles before we get there," interposed the
planter. "We have always been peaceable people, but I suppose we must
get used to fighting, for we are going to have a terrible war; and I
don't believe in Mr. Seward's prediction that it will all be over in a
hundred days. I am ready to become a soldier, Levi, and so are the boys,
in defence of the Union."
"I suppose I ought to do the same," added the overseer; "but I had not
thought of it."
"You are fifty years old, and you will not be called upon to go into the
army, Levi," replied Mr. Lyon.
"But I am ready to do my share of the fighting; and if I am over fifty,
I reckon I am as tough and hearty as any of them that will shoulder a
musket," said the overseer; and those near him could hear his chuckle,
though they could not see his smile.
"I hope you will not go to the war, my friend," continued Mr. Lyon in a
very serious tone. "I am only forty-two, and I believe it is not only my
duty to send my boys into the army, but to go myself. I have thought a
great deal of this subject within the last month, though I haven't said
much. I believe a man's first duty is to his family, and I should hate
to go off into the army, and leave my wife and the girls here; for I
believe whoever stays in Barcreek will see some fighting here."
"And see some before a great while," added Levi. "Everything is boiling
round here, and it will boil over before long. These Secession ruffians
are not going to keep the peace much longer. They are itching to begin
the work of driving the Union men into their cub pasture."
"That is my own opinion; and that is my only dread in joining the army.
But I have comforted myself with the belief that Levi Bedford was over
fifty, and he would remain on the plantation and take care of my
family."
"I am very much obliged to you, Major Lyon, for the confidence you put
in me, and I can assure you it shall not be abused," returned the
manager, with more gravity in his tone and manner than usual. "If by
staying here I can keep three good Union soldiers in the field, perhaps
that will be doing my fair share of the work."
"We will talk this matter at another time, Levi; and I will only say I
could not have found a man more to my mind to take charge of the
plantation and the women-folks if I had hunted for him all over the
nation."
"That's handsome, Major; and you may wager your life and all you have in
the world that I will never go back on you or your family," protested
the overseer warmly.
"We understand each other perfectly, Levi. But there is a more pressing
question than that before the house just now," said Mr. Lyon, as he took
Levi's offered hand, and gave it an earnest grasp. "What are we to do
with all these arms and ammunition when we get them down to Riverlawn?"
"I haven't had much time to think of that; but I had an idea come across
my head as I was running from the house down to the boat-pier. I passed
by the ice-house, and it jumped into my noddle that it would make a good
arsenal; but I haven't worked up the idea yet," replied the manager.
"That is a happy thought!" exclaimed the planter. "It never occurred to
me. It is in just the right place; for my brother has given me warning
that I was in danger of being mobbed as an abolitionist, and that
nothing but his influence has prevented it from being done before."
"It is hard work for me to believe that doughface is a brother of yours
and the late colonel; but if he dared to show his face in it, he would
be the first man to get up such a demonstration. Excuse me, Major, if I
am talking too plainly," said Levi, who had little patience with, or
toleration for, Titus Lyon. "He may send his company of Home Guards over
to clean out the mansion, but he won't come himself, for he is a poison
snake."
"Perhaps you know my brother as he has developed himself in this
locality better than I do, though he has even shown his fangs, under a
mask, to me; but I shall keep the peace with him," replied Mr. Lyon very
sadly.
"If he attempts anything of that sort, or any other border-ruffians do,
I believe we can make them wish they had stayed at home," said Levi
stoutly.
"We can make the ice-house into a fortress for the protection of the
mansion," continued the planter. "It is near the creek, and commands the
bridge and the road leading to it, which is the only practicable
approach to the mansion. The swamp half a mile back of the house lies
between the spring road and the creek, and extends all the way to the
hills, not less than ten miles by water; and no body of men can get
through that way."
Though he had had no military experience, Noah Lyon talked like an army
engineer. He was a man of very decided general ability, and he readily
comprehended the situation so far as his plantation was concerned. The
ice-house was about twenty-five feet square. It was built of stone under
the direction of Colonel Lyon, who had his own views, though they were
not always scientific. To preserve the ice, which did not consist of
great solid blocks as in New Hampshire, he believed that thick walls
were necessary, and he had put two feet of solid masonry into them. The
ice was generally not more than two inches thick in this latitude,
though an exceptionally hard winter sometimes made it four. It was
packed in solid, and then permitted to freeze by leaving the door and
two windows open during the freezing weather.
"Stop rowing," said Levi, when they came to a bend five miles above the
bridge. "Now rest yourselves for five minutes, boys."
"Don't need no rest, mars'r," said General, as he drew his arm over his
forehead, from which the perspiration was dropping on the handle of his
oar. "We done pulled dis boat twenty mile widout stoppin' once."
"A little rest will do you no harm, for you will be kept at work till
morning," replied Levi.
"Whar we gwine, mars'r?" asked General.
"About five miles farther," replied the overseer evasively. "Have you
brought your jackets or coats with you, boys?"
They had brought them. Levi had read of muffled oars, and he ordered
each of the rowers to wind the garment not in use around the loom of his
oar where it rested in the rowlock. They obeyed in silence, and no one
asked any question; for this reason they would have made good sailors,
for they must obey without asking the reason for the command. They had
been well trained by the overseer.
"Now, not one of you must speak a loud word, or make any noise,"
continued Levi, when he had seen that the oars were all properly
muffled. "You must excuse me, Major, if I request all in this part of
the boat to keep still also; for we are coming to the nearest point to
the spring road. If there is any one on watch there, we will fool him if
we can."
"All right, Levi; we will keep as still as mice in a pantry."
"Pull away again, boys," he added, to the disgust of General, who wanted
him to give his orders in "ship-shop" fashion.
The negroes obeyed the command just as well as though it had been
"ship-shop;" and the Magnolia went ahead with renewed speed after the
rest. A little later the overseer ordered them to pull more slowly and
with less noise, for the oars could be heard in spite of the muffling.
But they could not be heard at half the distance to the spring road, and
no challenge came to them from that or any other direction.
"Now you may put your muscle into your oars, boys," said the overseer
when the boat came to a bend which had carried it away farther from the
road.
The men bent to their oars again, and the Magnolia flew over the dark
water. Dark as it was, the pilot had no difficulty in keeping the boat
in the middle of the creek. At the end of about an hour from the
resting-place, Levi ordered the men to pull slowly again, for the boat
was approaching its destination. The planter lighted a match and looked
at his watch.
"Hold on, here, boys!" called the overseer. "We have gone too far, for
here is the mouth of the brook, and I reckon the flatboat is under that
heap of stuff;" and he pointed to a mound of branches by the shore of
the inlet. "I reckon we want the lanterns now, Major Lyon. Did you light
one of them?"
"No; I only looked at my watch. We are in good time, for it wants a
quarter of twelve," replied the planter. "Get out the lanterns, boys,
and we will light them."
Levi worked the boat into the little inlet, and alongside of the mound.
The flatboat was found under it, precisely as Artie had described it in
the library. Four of the hands were sent to the top of it, and ordered
to clear away the branches, which they did by throwing them on shore and
into the water. The gundalow was baled out, and then its painter was
made fast to the stern of the Magnolia. Deck and Artie were sent ashore
with one of the lanterns, and directed to find the sink.
The Magnolia towed the flatboat down the creek till Deck hailed her from
the landing-place where they had gone ashore in the afternoon. By a
little after midnight the gundalow was moored at a convenient point for
loading it.
CHAPTER XIV
THE TRANSPORTATION OF THE ARMS
The three lanterns were lighted, and Levi Bedford lost not a moment in
making the preparations for loading the boxes into the flatboat. The
sink-hole was a tunnel in the ground, at the bottom of which could be
heard the gurgling of waters. The overseer said the brook which flowed
into the creek where they had found the gundalow had its source in this
place, though it made a considerable circuit before it reached its
outlet.
On the side of the inverted cone nearest to the creek there was an
opening which led into the cavern, the bottom of which was at least
twenty feet above the water, whose ripple they could hear. The descent
was gradual, both in the tunnel and in the cavern; and with lanterns in
their hands Deck and Artie led the way down, for they had made
themselves familiar with the subterranean chamber in the afternoon, and
it was years since Levi had been there.
Mr. Lyon followed his son, while the overseer, with a coil of small line
on his arm, which he had taken from the boathouse, brought up the rear.
The party were taking a survey of the entrance in order to determine the
best way to move the cases. It looked as though the water had flowed
through the cavern at some remote period of time, probably rising from
the sink-hole below, for the limestone at the floor was worn tolerably
smooth. Doubtless the extinct stream had found a new outlet, lowering
the level of the water so that it had ceased to flow through the cave.
The boxes were piled up just as they had been found in the afternoon.
The roof of the cavern was very irregular, and in some places it was not
more than five feet above the floor, while in others it was from eight
to ten. The arms were deposited in a recess about twenty feet from the
entrance. When the boys visited the sink-hole they had found the opening
of the cave partly filled up with branches of trees and other rubbish;
but they had removed these obstructions, which formed only a very weak
attempt to conceal the depository of the arms.
Levi studied the interior of the cavern and the situation of the cases,
attended by the planter. The lanterns were sufficient to light it so
that they had no difficulty in seeing to work. The apartment began to
wind about just below them, and all was gloom and darkness in that
direction.
"It is about twenty feet to the opening," said Levi, as he measured the
distance with his eye. "The roof is not more than five feet high half
the way; and, if their skulls are not harder than the limestone, General
and Dummy will be likely to stave a hole in them."
"The rest of the hands are not so tall," suggested Mr. Lyon.
"I brought this rope with me without knowing that it would be of any use
to us; but I find that it is just the thing we want," continued the
overseer as he uncoiled the line. "Now, boys, all we will ask you to do
is to hold the lanterns; but you must not go to sleep and let them fall
on the stone floor."
"No danger of that," laughed Deck. "But we can work in the low place
without smashing our heads."
"I am glad there is no hard work for you, boys, for you must be tired
after pulling a boat twenty miles this afternoon," added Mr. Lyon.
"I am not very tired, and I can do my share of the work," replied Artie.
"So can I," added Deck.
"But you can do the most good by holding the lights," replied Levi. "One
of you stand down here; and the other, with two of the lanterns, near
the opening."
The boys followed this direction, Deck placing himself at the entrance,
where he could light a part of the cavern and the tunnel. The overseer
uncoiled his rope, and with the help of the planter lifted one of the
boxes down to the floor. He then made fast the rope to it with a
slip-noose, the knot on the under side, so as to carry the case over any
obstructions.
Walking up to the entrance, uncoiling the line as he proceeded, he
passed out of the cavern into the tunnel. Calling General and Dummy from
the place where they had been told to wait, he stationed them near the
door, and then carried the line, which was not less than seventy-five
feet in length, to the shore of the creek.
"Now, Rosebud, and the rest of you, take hold of this rope, and when the
word comes up to you from General, haul up the box which is made fast to
the other end of it," continued Levi. "As soon as you get it up here,
unhitch the line, and throw the end down to General. As soon as you have
done that, load the case into the boat, then haul up another, and do the
same thing over again."
"Gunnymunks!" exclaimed the laughing negro. "Whar all de boxes come
from?"
"None of your business, Rosebud; mind your work, and don't ask
questions," returned the manager, as he descended to the entrance to the
cavern.
"W'at we gwine to do, Mars'r Bedford?" asked General.
"You are going to pull and haul; and you can begin now," replied Levi.
"Take hold of that line, and draw that box up here. Pull steady, so as
not to break it."
The two powerful negroes manned the rope, and dragged the case up to the
opening without any difficulty, and without doing it any great injury.
It was placed so that it could be readily hauled out of the sink.
"Above there!" called the overseer. "Now haul steady on the rope! Ease
it out of the opening, General."
The two big men crowded it around the corner, and then it went up to the
ground above without any obstruction or delay. The line was detached
from the box, and thrown down to the entrance, General passing it down
to the pile of boxes. Another had been prepared for the rope, and the
planter made fast to it. Levi had gone up to superintend the loading of
the box, and arranged a couple of planks he found in the boat, so that
this part of the work could be conveniently done. He made Rosebud the
"boss" for the time being, and then went down into the cavern to assist
his employer.
"It won't take long to do the job at this rate," said Mr. Lyon when the
overseer joined him. "Your plan of doing the work makes an easy thing of
it."
"I could not tell how it was to be done till I saw the situation of
things here; but we shall be back to Riverlawn before daylight," replied
Levi, as they lifted down the third of the boxes.
When the method of moving the cases to the boat had been adopted, and
had been found to work so well, the task was practically accomplished.
The ease and celerity with which they mounted to the upper regions
astonished and delighted the planter and the boys, and they were filled
with admiration at the skill displayed by Levi Bedford in the management
of the business. He was accustomed to working the hands, and knew what
each of them was good for; and no other person could have done so well.
The work proceeded with increased rapidity as the men became used to the
operations. In less than an hour all but the two cases containing the
cannon, which Levi said were twelve-pounders, had been removed. The
"Seceshers" had evidently had a great deal of difficulty in handling
them; for they had stove one of the cases in pieces, and the other was
hardly in condition to hold the heavy piece. Levi made his rope fast to
the cascabel, or but-end of the gun, and the word was passed for the men
above to come down to the entrance.
The six negroes made easy work of hauling it up to the opening, while
the overseer and the planter directed it with levers, split from the
broken case, so as to prevent it from receiving any injury. The six men
were then sent above the tunnel, and the gun was drawn up. Loading it
into the boat was a more difficult matter; and the planter and the
overseer were considering how it was to be done, when General
interrupted them.
"Go 'way dar, niggers!" exclaimed General, waving his hand for the
others to get out of the way. "Cotch hold ob de end ob de shooter,
Dummy, and we uns will tote it in de boat!"
The big preacher seized the end of the piece at the vent end, and
General did the same with the muzzle. They lifted the gun from the
ground, though with a strain which brought out some grunts from them,
and slowly marched to the boat with their burden. Levi ordered two more
of the men to take hold with them, at the trunnions, and sent the other
two into the boat, who assisted as they could obtain a hold on the load.
It was safely deposited in the bottom of the craft.
The overseer opened the other case with the hatchet Artie had brought,
and broke up the boards of which it was constructed. It was put into the
boat in the same manner as the other. The water was deep enough in the
creek for the boat, and Levi gave his attention next to the trimming of
the craft, while he sent some of the hands to bring up the pieces of
board left in the cavern; but the cargo needed but little adjusting, and
the party were ready to return to Riverlawn.
"When your precious brother visits that cavern next time, he will be
likely to wonder what has become of his arms and ammunition," said Levi,
wiping the perspiration from his brow. "Now, boys, go down into that
hole again, and see that we have left nothing there, for I don't want
Captain Titus to find anything to let him know who has done this job for
him."
While they were gone upon this mission, the overseer placed the Magnolia
ahead of the flatboat, in readiness to tow it down the creek. The boys
returned, and the hatchet was the only thing which had been left. To
their astonishment they found that Levi had shaken out the sail of the
Magnolia, and they had their doubts about his ability to manage it.
"I hope you won't tip the sailboat over, Levi," said Deck, as he stepped
on board of her, followed by Artie.
"If I do I shall not spill you out, either of you; for I want you to
take charge of the flatboat, with two of the hands," replied the
overseer. "I shall keep four men in the Magnolia to row, and I think the
sail will help us along a good deal."
"I should like to change that plan a little, Levi," interposed Mr. Lyon.
"The boys and myself can take care of the flatboat, and you can have all
the men at the oars."
"Just as you say, Major Lyon, and perhaps that will be the best scheme.
I was thinking that you and the boys might sleep part of the way down,"
answered the overseer. "The wind is blowing pretty hard from the
south-west, and I reckon we shall get some rain before a great many
hours. The sail ought to help us a big piece."
The planter and the boys armed themselves with the long oars of the
flatboat, which had been driven into the muddy bottom of the creek to
hold her in place at the landing, and they were ready to keep her off
the shore in going around a sharp bend. Mr. Lyon placed his between the
pins in the stem to steer with.
With their oars in hand the six rowers were in their places, and Levi
gave the word to shove off. When the men had pulled a short distance,
the skipper, a position which the overseer had assumed, hauled in the
sheet, and made it fast at the cleat for the purpose. The sail filled
with a vengeance as a sharp flaw struck it, and the Magnolia forged
ahead with a dart, dragging her tow after her. As the creek widened the
sail strained, and the Magnolia seemed to be struggling to get away from
the gundalow astern of her.
As she proceeded on her course down the stream, she increased her speed,
and appeared to make nothing of hauling the tow after her. The motion
produced by the sail bothered the rowers, who were not used to this
situation. Some of them "caught crabs," and the oars of all of them were
lifted and thrown back by the water that rushed past them. They made
such bad work of it that Levi ordered them to unship their oars.
The Magnolia was making something like six miles an hour, and would have
made ten without the tow. He steered her so that she carried the
gundalow safely around the bends of the stream; and the planter had
little to do, the boys nothing. Deck and Artie stretched themselves on
the boxes, and were soon fast asleep; for they were worn out with the
exertion and excitement of the day and night.
The bends in the stream near the spring road perplexed the skipper at
first; but his excellent common-sense helped him out, and he hauled in
his sheet so as to bring the boat up closer to the wind. Above the most
troublesome bend at this point, the general course of the creek was west
north-west. He let off the sheet, and the Magnolia flew faster than
ever.
When he came to the bridge by the mansion, he waked the negroes, who had
all fallen asleep, to take down the mast, so that he could pass under
it, for he had already lowered the sail. He ran the boat close to the
bank off the ice-house, and the negroes secured it and the gundalow.
"Dexter, Artemas!" shouted the planter. "Wake up! The cruise is ended."
CHAPTER XV
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF FORT BEDFORD
The two young voyagers of the night sprang to their feet on the pile of
cases which filled the body of the gundalow, and looked about them. It
was still dark, and they could not make out anything when just roused
from their slumber.
"What are we stopping here for, father? Has anything broken?" asked
Deck, discovering Mr. Lyon near him.
"Nothing but your slumbers, my son," replied the planter. "Haven't you
got your eyes open yet? Can't you see that you have got home?"
"I believe I have been asleep," added Artie, rubbing his eyes.
"I know you have, my boy; for I spread your overcoats over you both
before we reached the big bend, and I know you were sleeping as soundly
as a pair of babies then. You must have slept an hour and a half," the
father explained. "I am glad you had some sleep, for we have more work
to do before we can go to bed."
"I can see the bridge now," added Deck.
"And there is the house," said Artie.
The negroes were all wide awake by this time, and Levi had gone to the
mansion for the key to the ice-house. Mr. Lyon lighted all of the
lanterns, and sent the boys to the stone building with them, following
himself soon after. The overseer came with the key, and it was opened
with some difficulty. The ice with which it had been filled in the
winter had been exhausted, and it contained nothing but rubbish. The
hands were called, and the interior was soon cleaned out.
Though Levi had not closed his eyes during the night, and had been busy
all the time, he was wide awake, and proceeded to drive things as he had
done at the cavern. It was decided to move the cannons first, after a
broad gang plank had been made of the material in the boat. A heavy
cart-stake was procured, which was thrust into the first of the pieces,
with room enough for three of the hands to get hold of it. Another was
placed under the cascabel, which was supported by General and Dummy,
with Rosebud at the jaws.
The gun was easily handled with this force, and the men walked briskly
to the new arsenal. Three wheelbarrows were brought from the tool-house
by the planter and the boys while Levi was superintending the removal of
the cannons. Three wheelers were selected by the overseer, two placed in
the gundalow to load the barrows, and one at the ice-house. In less than
an hour, and when the daylight was appearing in the east, the job was
finished.
"Now, boys, you can sleep all the rest of the day," said Mr. Lyons, and
Levi sent the hands to their quarters.
"We haven't seen any men on the watch," said Levi, while he was placing
some boards over the windows of the building, "but there may have been
some on the lookout for all that."
"If they were in the road near the big bend, where you thought they
would be, if anywhere, they could not have walked to the cavern in time
to find us there, for we made quick work of loading the boat," added the
planter.
"If there were any men there, they may have observed us; but they could
not get round here to see what was done with the cases if they did,"
replied Levi. "They may possibly have recognized the Magnolia: and that
is the only clew they could have obtained of the operations in this
affair."
"It is time to go to bed, and I am inclined to think we shall do some
sleeping to-day," added the planter, as he led the way to the mansion.
Levi was not willing to leave anything to chance; and before he went to
his room in the house he had called up two of the servants and
established a patrol along the bank of the creek from the bridge to the
boathouse, with orders to call him if any persons were seen prowling
about the vicinity.
All the operations of the night had been conducted with the most prudent
regard to secrecy. Doubtless Levi Bedford knew more about the residents
of the county than Noah Lyon, and probably more about Titus as he was
and had been during the last few years. The disappearance of the arms
and ammunition would make a tremendous sensation among the Southern
sympathizers, though most of them were not yet aware of the existence of
such a store of munitions in the vicinity; for the knowledge of them had
probably been confined to the members of Titus's company of Home Guards.
Even if the wrath and excitement occasioned by the loss of the war
material was limited to these ruffians, there were enough of them to do
a vast amount of mischief in the county.
The interview on the bridge with his brother had opened wide the eyes of
Noah; but he had always lived in a peaceful community, and his overseer
understood the situation better than he did. Levi had taken every
precaution against the possible assaults of the "bushwackers," as he
called the gang with whom the Northern "doughface" had cast his lot at
the breaking out of the troubles in the State. The boys slept soundly
till nearly noon, and the planter till the middle of the forenoon; but
Levi appeared as usual at breakfast, having slept but about three hours.
Mr. Lyon had told his wife something about the events of the night, and
assured her that the arms were safe in the ice-house, and nothing was
said at the table about the proceedings of the party, though Levi was as
good-natured as usual, and talked about other things. As soon as he had
finished his morning meal with a most excellent appetite, he hastened to
the ice-house with the key in his hand. The field-hands had gone to
their work, and all was quiet about the place.
The ice-house was near the creek, about half-way between the bridge and
the boathouse, close to the stream. The door of it faced the water, and
there was a small square window in either end. Levi walked around the
building two or three times, closely examining the structure. Then he
stopped at the door and cast his eyes all around him, especially at the
lay of the land on the other side of the creek. He was not a military
engineer any more than his employer; but he was a man of ideas, and he
was evidently preparing for events in the future which he foresaw, and
which the disturbed condition of the State rendered more than possible.
When he had completed his survey he unlocked the door of the building.
The cases were all just as they had been piled up in the early morning.
He bestowed only a glance at them, and then began a study of the two
windows, from which he removed the boards that prevented any one from
seeing what the building contained. Then he gave his attention to the
doors, which were double, the thickness of the wall apart. He was
evidently making a plan in his mind for some alterations to the
structure; but he was alone, and of course he said nothing.
He appeared to have reached his conclusion. Closing and locking the
outer door, he walked over to the boathouse, at the pier of which the
Magnolia had been secured by the boatmen as soon as the work of the
night was completed. Here again he stopped and made a survey of the
neighboring swamp, which separated the lawn from the bank of the Green.
Then he went over to the bank of the river, and followed it down stream.
At this point a bend of the river above forced the water of the stream
over near the opposite shore, while half-way across from the bank on
which he stood, the waters from the river and the creek had washed in
the mud so that it formed a bar on a bed of rocks, and the descent here
produced the rapids. The water for half a mile was considerably troubled
when the streams were full, while it was deep enough on the other side
to permit the passage of the steamboats that plied on the river.
Levi continued his walk in the road, with Green River on one side and on
the other the swamp which bordered the creek to a point near its source.
The swamp was impassable on foot or by boat. It was better than a wall
in the rear of the mansion, and the marauders of Titus Lyon could not
approach from that direction. Farther along was a broad lagoon or pond,
connected by a wide and sluggish inlet with Bar Creek. This could be
crossed with a boat; but the approach to it from the spring road over
the low ground was difficult and dangerous.
The overseer knew the whole region very well; but when he had viewed it
again in the light of impending contingencies, he seemed to be entirely
satisfied with the situation, for his chronic smile was on his round
face, though no one was there to see it. He went to the shop, which
formed part of the carriage-house, and began a survey of the lumber on
hand there. A couple of three-inch oak planks were pulled out from the
pile. He measured and marked them with a piece of chalk, and then left
the shop.
Among the plantation hands were carpenters, masons, painters, and other
mechanics, more or less skilful, though none of them had regularly
learned a trade. Some of them had become quite expert in the use of
tools, and could do a very respectable job, especially the carpenters.
Levi was himself a "jack-of-all-trades," and he had trained some of them
to the best of his ability.
When he came out of the shop he sent Frank the coachman to call the
three carpenters, who worked in the field most of the time. The colonel
had given these men names to suit himself, and they were proud of their
cognomens. "Shavings" was the most skilful of them, and was the "boss"
at any job to be done. "Gouge" and "Bitts" were only fair workmen, but
they did very well under the direction of their foreman.
When they came, Levi ordered Shavings to make two doors of the
three-inch planks, and described what he wanted very minutely. At the
same time the two door-frames were ordered, and the mechanics went to
work with a will, and without asking to what use the doors were to be
applied.
By this time the planter came out from his late breakfast, and the
overseer reported to him what he had been doing the last three hours.
They visited the shop where the negro mechanics were sawing out the
planks for the doors, and then went to the stables, where Frank remained
on duty all the time when not out with one of the teams; and then one of
the grooms took his place.
"How many horses are there on the place now, Frank?" asked the planter.
"Thirty-five in all, Major," answered the coachman.
"Are they all fit for service?" inquired the owner.
"No, sir; six of them are breeding mares, and nine are colts, two and
three years old. We have fifteen horses and mares four years old and
more, for sale, and I reckoned you would sell them about this time."
"That's all, Frank," added the planter as he left the stable.
"I don't know what you are driving at, Major Lyon, but we have
twenty-seven horses over three years old, and fit for service, though
the three year olds are rather young yet for hard work," said Levi, as
they walked towards the ice-house.
"I have held my tongue about as long as necessary; but now all these
sores in the State seem to be coming to a head, and I will tell you,
between ourselves, that I have an idea of raising a company of Union
cavalry to offset the Home Guards of this county," replied Mr. Lyon.
"That's a glorious idea!" exclaimed Levi with tremendous enthusiasm. "I
wish I was ten years younger, and weighed thirty pounds less, for I
should like to swing a sabre in that company."
"But you are to look out for the plantation and take care of my family
while I am away, Levi. You can ride a colt better than any of us; but
your work is here, and you may be called upon to do as much fighting as
any of us," said Mr. Lyon.
"I will do my duty wherever you put me, Major; but I should
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/35206