Flashman - Flashman and the Angel of the Lord Part 12
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You see my game: being a respected senior,-and a spiritualist, he was just the man to put the wind right up our younger enthusiasts with his rea.s.suring chat about the life to come; with luck he'd reduce the low spirits of Kennedy Farm to absolute zero. Well, he did more than that; G.o.d knows what he said to them, privatim et seriatim, over the next two days, but it dam' near caused a mutiny. Suddenly, l Harper's Ferry was finding no takers at all on 'Change. Owen got wind of the disaffection, and reported to J.B., reminding him glumly of what happened to Napoleon when lie marched on Moscow against the popular will, and the old boy took his head in his hands and groaned. Then he called us all into the common-room, and brooded at us like a vulture on a tombstone.
"I hear," growls he, "that with the exception of Kagi, who I know is staunch, you are all opposed to striking the blow at the Ferry. I feel so depressed that I am almost willing to abandon the undertaking for the time being." He threw back his head, waiting, but only Owen contradicted him, saying we had come too far, and must go ahead.
"Must we?" grunts J.B., and glanced at me. "Joshua?"
I drew myself up, all Horse Guards, and spoke with deep feeling. "You know my sentiments, captain. But since the plan is mine, I don't feel ent.i.tled to a voice. I must beg to be allowed to abstain."
Rather neat, I thought, but one who obviously didn't think so was Joe. He was glaring at me fit to kill - my abstention looked to him like a rank betrayal of my engagement to the Kuklos. He burst out: "Well, Ah ain't abstainin'! Ah say we go, like cap'n says!"
J.B. stared, frowning in astonishment - it came as a shock to him, I think, to be reminded that Joe knew all about the plan - the other blacks didn't, you see, being mere cannon-fodder who hadn't been admitted to our councils. No one else spoke; even Stevens stood mum, and I could only conclude that in talking to the young men he had realised their deep reluctance, and lost heart himself. Personally, I was offering up a silent thanksgiving, for I was sure that in the presence of those sullen, uneasy faces, J.B: was going to have to call it a day at long last. He gave Joe a weary, wintry smile.
"I thank you for your trust and loyalty, Joe," says he, "but I fear that you and I and Owen and Kagi - and Joshua, too, I believe - can hardly do the thing alone. For myself, I have only one life to live, and to lose, but I am not so strenuous for my plans as to carry them through against the company's wishes." He paused, sighing, and rubbed his forehead. All over, thinks I and then the cunning old b.a.s.t.a.r.d faced his hole card. "Very well ... I resign. We will choose another leader, and I will faithfully obey him, reserving only the right to advise when I see fit."
There was a gasp of dismay. J.B. bowed his head and walked from the room without another word ... and would you credit it, within five minutes that pack of brainless sheep had re-elected him! Unanimously, too - for when I saw where they were going, two of the youngest shedding tears of remorse, the others shamed into a renewal of holy zeal, you may be sure I cast my lot with the majority. I could have throttled the old swine; the whole crazy scheme had been within a shaving of collapse, and he'd swung them round simply by pa.s.sing the decision to them. I still say he wasn't a good leader, but he was one h.e.l.l of a farmyard politician.
You'd have thought, with that moral victory under his belt, that he'd have gone for the Ferry then and there, while the boys were still excited in their reaction, and indeed for a couple of days I was in a mortal funk that he would do just that. Kagi, who must have got wind of our little mutiny, was writing urgently from Chambersburg, insisting it was now or never: the harvest had been good, so we'd have ample forage in Virginia, the moon was right, and the slaves were restive because the suicides had started.47 Further, Kagi pointed out, we didn't have five dollars left even to buy food - we daren't delay any longer.
Neither, I decided, dare I. All of a sudden, thanks to the mutiny producing the opposite effect to what I'd expected, the raid seemed to be on the cards for the first time, and my thoughts turned to the horse stabled beneath the house, and the road to Was.h.i.+ngton. The fly in the ointment was Joe, whose suspicions of me had become thoroughly roused; his baleful eye was on me every minute, and he had taken to sleeping across the doorway in the loft. I evolved and rejected half a dozen schemes for evading him - and still J.B. gave no sign of making up his mind. If anything, he was more sunk in despond than ever, fearful that at any moment we might be discovered, and on the other hand fretting that we daren't move without what he called "a treasury to sustain our campaign".
"There's a bank in Harper's Ferry, ain't there?" cries Jerry Anderson, and J.B. exploded.
"We are not thieves!" cries he. "Oh, for a few hundred dollars! I shall write to Kagi again - he must find us something!"
And Kagi, d.a.m.n him, did.
It was a dirty October night when the blow fell. J.B. was in the kitchen, writing, and the rest of us were yawning and snarling after a day which had seen us mooning indoors, confined by the driving rain, with nothing to do but clean weapons and make do and mend and croak at each other. Supper had been a meagre affair, and I was noting with satisfaction that the feverish burst of enthusiasm which had followed J.B.'s re-election had dwindled altogether after days of inaction. What had damped everyone's spirits most of all had been an announcement from the old man that he was contemplating "a decisive act in two or three weeks" - we'd heard that before, and as Leeman pointed out, in less than a week, never mind two or three, we'd be forced to disperse, if only to find some grub ... and then there was a clatter of boots on the veranda, every hand was suddenly reaching for a rifle or revolver, the lamp was doused, and Stevens was challenging: "Who goes there?"
"It's Santa Claus - old Kriss Kringle, and see how you like it!" laughs an exultant voice, and in an instant the bar had been slipped and the lamp rekindled, and Kagi was standing grinning all over his face in the doorway, with the rain pouring off his shawl. There was a tall fellow with him, and as Kagi ushered him into the light I saw that he limped heavily and had one eye missing in his pale, sickly face.
"This is Frank Meriam!" cries Kagi. "Where's the captain?"
J.B. emerged from the kitchen. "Captain Kagi! What does this mean? Why are you not at Chambersburg?"
"Chambersburg, nothing, I've just come from the Ferry!" Kagi was afire with excitement. "Frank just came in by train today - oh, go ahead, Frank, show 'em!"
The tall fellow pulled out a satchel from beneath his coat, undid the strap, and opened it over the table and out poured a cascade of dollars, glittering and jingling. There were cries of amazement as Kagi stirred them on the table, laughing, and J.B. plumped down in a chair, staring in disbelief, while Kagi explained that Meriam was a friend from the North who had heard of J.B.'s dire need of funds, and here he was, at the eleventh hour, with his personal contribution to the cause. J.B. rose with tears in his eyes and seized Meriam's hand.48 "G.o.d has sent you!" cries he. "He has seen His children's need and filled their measure, yea, to overflowing! How much is there?"
"Six hundred bucks!" cries Kagi, and J.B. laid his hands on the gelt and raised his s.h.a.ggy head in prayer, praising the Lord that He had furnished means to take His servants over Jordan and loose the whirlwind in Israel ... and it seemed to me to be just the right time, as they all stood with bowed heads, muttering their amens, to slip quietly out of the still-open door, b.u.t.ton my coat, vault over the veranda rail, and make a bee-line for the stable door at the end of the lower storey.
For I'd known, when the first coin clattered on the table, that all my hopes of many months had been dashed at the Hast minute: he would go to Harper's Ferry, and I'd never get a better chance to light out for Was.h.i.+ngton and safety; I'd done my best, I had my boots on, my Tranter in my belt, and a clear road to Frederick (or any station bar Harper's Ferry) where I could board a train south. As I fumbled for a match, lighting the stable lamp, I was telling myself that mice I'd ridden a hundred yards I'd be free, for there wasn't but the one horse, a sorry screw, but he'd do. I saddled him in feverish haste, soothing him as I slipped the bridle over his head ... ten seconds and I'd be out and away, and I was leading him to the door, gulping with excitement, when I bore up with a whinny of terror and stood rooted. Black Joe was standing in the doorway, hands loose at his sides, looking like the Wild Man of Borneo.
"You stinkin' snake!" says he. "I always knew you'd run at the last! Git yo' hand away f'm yo' belt!"
There was no point in pretending I was taking the beast out for exercise. I lifted my hands.
"Don't be a fool, Joe!" I croaked. "You don't need me he's going to the Ferry, dammit! That's all Atropos wanted it don't matter whether I'm there or not! Look, if you let me go, I'll -"
"I ought to burn yo' brains!" snarls he, taking a pace forward. "An' git away f'm that hoss! Now, Mistuh Comber, you come ahead good an' slow - an' git yo' dirty a.s.s back inside that house!"
"What for? For Christ's sake, man, see sense! He can run his b.l.o.o.d.y raid without me - or you! Look, we can both slide out -"
"You made a deal, you dam' traitor! Fi' thousan' dollahs, 'member? An' yo' goin' through with it, the whole way!" I must have moved a hand, for suddenly there was a pistol in his fist, the hammer back. "An' you know why you's goin' through with it, Mistuh Comber? 'Cos that good ole man up theah, he's a-countin' on you! He needs you, 'cos they ain't another man in his jacka.s.s outfit can plan or plot wo'th a dam, 'cept you!" The hideous black face split in an awful grin. "So yo' goin' to be at his side . . . Joshua, to keep him right in his raid, an' when he takes to the hills with the coloured folks, an' when he rides south to set the people free! All the way, Joshua, you heah me?"
I was so flabbergasted I could hardly find words to protest. "You're crazy! He'll never raise a rebellion! He'll come adrift before he's clear of the Ferry, you fool! His raid'll be a farce - but it don't matter! The raid itself is all that Atropos wants -"
"- Atropos!" cries he. "- him an' every other lousy slaver! You think Ah'm doin' his dirty work?" He lunged towards me, waving the pistol in my face. "You think Ah'm jes' 'nother yes-ma.s.sa n.i.g.g.e.r, don't yuh? You think Ah'm a chattel of that fat bastuhd M'sieu Atropos G.o.ddam La Force, 'cos he petted me an' let me screw his woman, an' done me all kinda benefits? Well, mebbe Ah was once, but not no mo'!" His breath hit my face like a furnace blast, and the dreadful yellow-streaked black eyes rolled in frenzy. "You know why? 'Cos Ah foun' me a man - a real man, a simple, no-'count ole farmer that tret me like a man, an' talked with me like a man! Not like Ah wuz dirt, or a pet dog like when Ah was in the schoolroom with that - Atropos La Force that allus got fu'st pick o' the sugar cookies an' to ride the rockin'-hoss while Ah wuz the G.o.ddam groom!" He stepped back, shaking, and lowered the pistol from beneath my petrified nose. "An' he's gonna set ma people free! John Brown's gonna do that! An' yo' gonna see he does, too, oh, right sure you are, Mistuh Joshua Comber! An' Ah'm gonna he right theah to see you do it!"
His hand flickered, and the pistol was gone. Another flicker, and it was in his hand again. He grinned at me, nodding. "See?"
Another b.l.o.o.d.y madman - my G.o.d, was anyone in America sane? In a flash I understood the way he'd watched Brown, and hung on his words, and sat in the kitchen listening to his babblings - why, the old b.u.g.g.e.r had converted him! I couldn't credit it - not Black Joe, the shrewdest, wickedest, best-read n.i.g.g.e.r in Dixie, whose slavery had been a rosebed compared to anything he could hope for as a free man? But it had happened, plainly; one look at those blood-injected eyes told me that, and G.o.d knows I'd seen enough of human lunacy not to waste speculation on the why's and wherefore's. And I was to be driven to sure destruction, just because this demented darkie had seen the light! I hadn't a hope of running now, with this fearsome black gunslick d.o.g.g.i.ng my every move. But I could still try to reason with him.
"Joe, in G.o.d's name, listen! You're wrong! He doesn't have a hope, I tell you! He's going to his death - so are all the rest of 'em! Nothing I can do will save him! d.a.m.nation, man, you've heard the talk - the slaves won't rise, and he'll be -"
"Shut yo' lyin' mouth!"
"It's the truth, man! Dammit, you say yourself I'm the only one who can make a plan and reckon the odds - d'ye think I don't know, you b.l.o.o.d.y fool?"
He hit me a back-hander that sent me sprawling on the straw, then leaned down to drag me to my feet. "We goin' to the Ferry, you an' me, 'long o' the ole man - an' then to the hills!" says he, his face close to mine. "You play false - you even look false, an' Ah kill you dead!"
A voice shouted, outside and overhead; it was Stevens. "Joshua, you down there? Josh?"
Joe let go and stepped to the door. "Jes' seein' to the wagon, Ma.s.s' Aaron! We be theah d'reckly!" He beckoned to me, stepping aside to let me pa.s.s out into the rain. "Dead ... 'member?"
Some wiseacre once said that the prospect of death concentrates the mind wonderfully, but I'm here to tell you that the chance to work for a reprieve concentrates it a whole heap more. I was in the true-blue horrors when I came up from that stable, with Joe looming at my heels, and was no way cheered by the celebration taking place in the common-room. That pile of cash seemed to have acted like a tonic, heaven knows why, and all around were smiling faces and bustling activity, Kagi was pumping my hand and crying, at last, at last!, and J.B. was like a man transformed, eyes s.h.i.+ning fiercely and beard bristling as he stood by the table, fingering the dollars while he dictated to Jerry Anderson, whose pencil was fairly flying across the paper. Tidd, I remember, was singing "The Girl I Left Behind Me" in his fine tenor, and the younger men were joining in and larking about and all because it was now certain that in a few hours they'd likely be getting shot to pieces and dying along the Potomac or Shenandoah. I'd seen it before, the hectic gaiety that can take hold of young fools at the imminent (but not too imminent) prospect of action after they've waited long; I've never been p.r.o.ne to it, myself. I had my work cut out keeping the upper lip in good order, while asking myself fearfully how the devil I was going to keep a whole skin this time.
There was only one way that I could see, and I bent my mind to it with everything I knew. If Harper's Ferry could be taken with no heads broken - and I knew it could be, just, provided my plan was followed to the letter, and nothing went amiss - then there must arise a moment, surely, when I could give Joe the slip. A few seconds was all I'd need (it's all I've ever needed), and I'd be into the under-growth and going like h.e.l.l's delight, on foot if need be. He couldn't watch me every second, not with the confusion that must occur in taking the armoury gates, the a.r.s.enal, and the rifle works. So that same evening, when J.B. was poring over my plans and consulting with Kagi and Stevens, and next day when (after a d.a.m.ned sleepless night, I can tell you, with Joe on a hair-trigger at my side) the final preparations were made, I worked on every last detail of the scheme as though my life depended on it - which it did .. .
Kagi and Stevens to silence the watchman on the Potomac bridge as we approached - they were the best men, for the most vital task. The surly Tidd, next best, to cut the telegraph wires, with the garrulous Cook, who knew the Ferry well, to show him the way. Oliver, the best of the Browns, to take and guard the Shenandoah bridge; his brother Watson to guard the Potomac bridge. (The third brother, Owen, I insisted must stay at the farm, to hold our base - the truth was that I wanted him as far from J.B. as could be, because he was the kind of a.s.s who'd argue with the old man and set him dithering with indecision.) With the bridges in our hands, I'd see to the armoury gates myself, with J.B. and Stevens . . . then to the a.r.s.enal across the street, leave Hazlett on guard, with anyone but Leeman (they were too harum-scarum to trust together) . . . the rifle works were nearly half a mile off - aye, Kagi could see to them . . . and that would be Harper's Ferry receipted and filed . . . for a few hours at least. Provided the bridge and armoury watch-men could be dealt with quietly, there was no reason why we shouldn't remain undetected until daybreak . . . and long before then I'd have slipped Joe, if I had to kill him to do it, and be on my merry way.
I didn't consult or argue about these dispositions, but rapped them out in my sharpest style, with J.B. nodding alongside, and the fellows accepted them without a murmur. They spent that last day cleaning weapons and a.s.sembling gear, and Stevens and I inspected 'em to the last b.u.t.ton, while J.B. did the really useful work - writing out our commissions, if you please! Half the men were "captains" in his army, and the others "lieutenants", except for Taylor, the Canadian, who was too cracked for anything, and of course the n.i.g.g.e.rs, who were all privates. I was a "major", you'll be charmed to know . . . and I have the faded paper beside me as I write, with "John Brown, Commander-in-Chief" in his spidery hand at the foot. I keep it in my desk, alongside my appointment as "Sergeant-General" in the Malaga.s.sy army, my Union and Confederate commissions, the illuminated scroll designating me a Knight of the San Serafino Order of Purity and Truth (Third Cla.s.s), the Order of the Elephant which I picked up in Strackenz, and all the other foreign stuff. Gad, I've been about, though.
Anyway, I left nothing to chance, talking to each man in turn to be sure he knew his duties, and J.B. doled out the "commissions" and read his Const.i.tution, and administered his oath of allegiance to the late-comer Meriam and a couple of the blacks, who hadn't taken them before. Only once was there a cross word, when J.B. tried to interfere with my arrangements for the town; he said our first task must be to detach a party to take hostages, but I put my foot down hard, insisting that it must wait until we had both bridges and the three vital targets - armoury, a.r.s.enal, and rifle works - all secure.
He thrust his beard at me, glittering. "My will must prevail in this, Joshua!"
"No, Captain Brown, it must not!" says I. "The hostages can wait a few minutes, until our dispositions are complete. I'll not answer for our safety, or our success, unless the plan is followed to the letter."
It took him aback, but Stevens backed me up, and said he'd 'tend to the hostages himself when the time came. J.B. gave in, sulkily, and then in a moment he was off on another tack, telling Stevens that when he took Colonel Was.h.i.+ngton hostage, he must on no account forget to bring away Lafayette's pistol and Frederick the Great's sword, and see to it that Was.h.i.+ngton in person handed the sword to one of our blacks. "If he doesn't care for that, no matter. It is symbolic, and right and fitting that the sword of liberty should be placed in a coloured hand." That was J.B. all over.
And then, before I knew it, dusk was falling, and we were sitting down to our last supper in the Kennedy Farm. It was blowing up a wild night outside, and the rain was leaking in - almost as fast as my courage was leaking out, for I was scared as I've seldom been in my misspent life. The last desperate venture of this kind that I'd sweated over had been when the Hyderabadi Cavalry had charged the breach at Jhansi so that I could be deposited, disguised and petrified with funk, inside the fortress wall, there to worm my way into the presence of the delectable Lakshmibai ... my G.o.d, that had been only last year, on the other side of the world! And here I was again, on the lion's lip, forcing my dinner down with Joe's noisy chewing sounding like a deathknell at my ear.
Then supper was over, and we sat about in silence, waiting. There were no jokes now, and the only smiles were nervous grimaces on the fresh young faces round the table. B struck me harder then than it had ever done before, what babes they were, half of 'em with barely a growth of beard on their cheeks, torn between fear and the crazy belief that they were doing the Lord's work, and I felt a sudden anger at b.l.o.o.d.y John Brown who was leading them to it - and what was a sight worse, leading me. I can see the faces still -- Watson Brown poring over a letter from his wife, Oliver's fine features pale in the lamplight, Leeman drumming his fingers and chewing an unlit cheroot, Hazlett sitting back, brus.h.i.+ng the fair hair out of his eyes, Tidd scowling as he traced a finger in a puddle of spilt coffee on the board, Aaron Stevens with his hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, Kagi pacing about, tight as a coiled spring, old black Dangerous Newby whittling at a stick, the youngest men stifling those yawns that are born not of weariness but of fear, Charlie Cook cursing the rain, Bill Thompson whistling softly through his teeth . . . and Joe seated against the wall, never taking those baleful eyes off me.
J.B. came out of the kitchen, putting on his coat and hat. "Get on your arms, men," says he. "We will proceed to the Ferry.
There were twenty of us, two by two, and J.B. driving the wagon, which held the pikes and tools for forcing the armoury gates. Every man-jack of us, fifteen white men and six blacks, carried a Sharps rifle and forty rounds, and two revolvers; against the blinding rain we had our hats and loose shawls, and before we were out of the lane and on to the road, we were sodden through. I cast a glance back as we reached the road: Owen and Meriam and one of the youngsters were still on the veranda, outlined against the light from the open door, Owen with his hand raised, although he couldn't have seen us in the dark, and I remembered something he'd said as he shook hands with Watson and Oliver in the moment of parting: "If you succeed, Old Glory'll fly over this farm some day; if you don't, they'll call it a den of thieves and pirates," and Oliver replying with a laugh: "Why, Owen, you can start shaping up a flagstaff right now!"
Neither of 'em believed it. Only two men in that company truly wanted to go to the Ferry - J.B. and Kagi, and of those two only one expected to come out alive, because he was sure G.o.d must see him through. One other was determined to come out alive, and you may guess who he was, striding resolutely through the wet night with his guts dissolving, conscious of the looming black genie at his shoulder.
Six of us marched before the wagon, Cook and Tidd out in front, then Kagi and Stevens, and last Joe and I, and as we sloshed on through the dark, barely able to see the muddy road before us, I found myself harking back to other desperate night forays - with Rudi Starnberg in the silent, snow-clad woods of Tarlenheim, on our way to carry out Bismarck's mad design to put me on a European throne; stealing through the pandy lines at Lucknow with Kavanagh, and him figged out as Sinbad the Sailor with his clock covered in blacking; riding with Mangas Colorado's band of Mimbreno Apaches to descend on a sleeping hamlet of the Rio Grande; hand in hand with Elspeth through that dark garden at Antan' where we'd lain doggo in the bushes and a Hova guardsman had trod on her finger and broken it and the little heroine had never so much as squeaked . . . and at the thought of her golden beauty and warm soft body entwined with mine on the green moss of the Madagascar forest, and now so far away and lost to me, perhaps, forever, I could have raved aloud at the sheer blind cruelty of chance that had landed me in this beastly business - while she was snug and safe in dear old London, aye, and like as not rogering her brainless head off with some fortunate swine, the little trot. I thrust the unworthy thought aside, as I'd done a hundred times in the past, for I've never been sure, you see . . . but whether or no, it didn't matter, I could still see that splendid milk-white shape reclining on the bed at Balmoral, the blonde glory of her hair spilling on the pillows, bright blue eyes wide and teasing, red lips kissing at me over the fan of crimson feathers that was the only thing between me and heart's desire . . .
No, by heaven, I refused to say farewell to all that magnificent meat; I'd win back to her somehow, though h.e.l.l should bar the way, and give her loving what-for until the springs broke, in spite of J.B. and Joe Simmons and J. C. Spring and every other son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h who was trying to do me down - why, hadn't I taken on a black rascal every bit as big and ugly as Joe that night in Antan', and won through, just as I'd won through all those other terrifying sc.r.a.pes with Rudi and Kavanagh and the rest? A great rage surged up in me as I blundered along, compounded of l.u.s.t for Elspeth and hatred against the G.o.ds; I was d.a.m.ned if after all I'd suffered it was going to end in a two-bit pest-hole like Harper's Ferry . . .
A low whistle from the dark ahead banished my fond visions: there, a scant mile away through the murk, lights were twinkling dimly - the lights of the little towns.h.i.+p, and below them, the faint glow of the few lamps that marked the armoury buildings along the Potomac sh.o.r.e, and cast a barely-seen glimmer on the river surface. Left of the armoury, and closer to our line of approach, I could just make out the loom of the covered bridge over the Potomac, with a lamp at either end - that was our first target. The whistle had been the signal that Tidd and Cook were breaking off to cut the first telegraph lines, and now we were hastening down the slope, the wagon jolting behind us, to the near end of the Potomac bridge. The timbers boomed beneath our feet in the wooden tunnel through which ran the Baltimore and Ohio railroad tracks as well as the road; we were running now, and a babble of voices was coming from the far end, where Kagi and Stevens were dealing with the watchman, who seemed to think it was all a joke - "Say, what are you fellers about - t'ain't Hallowe'en for a couple o' weeks yet . . . G.o.ddlemighty, man, take care with that piece!"
I had a glimpse of his scared white face beneath the lamp, and Kagi holding a rifle to his breast, as I ran past, Joe at my elbow, and turned to face the covered bridge entrance. The wagon came rumbling out, with the boys running in file either side of it, and as I called my orders they wheeled away like good 'uns, each to his station. "Watson and Taylor - take the watchman, keep him quiet! Kagi and Stevens, close on the wagon! Halt her there, captain! Oliver - Shenandoah bridge, smart as you can, and quiet!" Oliver ran past me, with Dangerous Newby and Bill Thompson at his heels, and vanished under the trees at my back; J.B. reined in, and Kagi and the others closed round him. Taylor was covering the terrified watchman at the Potomac bridge mouth, and Watson waved his rifle to me in acknowledgment.
Now before I go any further, you should look at my map, which is done as best I can remember, for many of the old landmarks are gone now, so I can't be dead sure where everything was.49 I've told you how the town lay, and you can see for yourselves, but I must impress on you just how small was the s.p.a.ce in which our little drama was to be played out. Coming out of the right fork of the Potomac bridge, you were looking at the Wager House hotel, a large gabled building with two storeys and a bas.e.m.e.nt; it was part of the station and hard by the railroad where it branched right from the covered bridge. To your left, beyond the other railroad track and part-screened by trees, were the Shenandoah bridge and Galt's saloon. Directly ahead of you was the a.r.s.enal building, and to the right the gates and railings of the armoury enclosure. Beyond the a.r.s.enal and armoury were houses and shops and the town proper. All these places lay within an area not much bigger than a foot-ball field, perhaps eighty yards by a hundred, and from the upper floor of the Wager House you could see pretty well all of it, unless there happened to be a tree or a freight car in the way. The s.p.a.ce between the hotel and the armoury gates was fairly open, as I remember, and I think part of it was cobbled; there were trees here and there, and I dare say some buildings I've forgotten, but nothing to signify.
"Joe, get the crowbar from the wagon! Aaron, take the sledge! Follow me!" I was legging it for the armoury gates, and J.B. jumped down from the wagon and kept pace with me, the others following. The rain was lighter now, but it was still pretty dark, save where a pool of light was cast by the lamps on the armoury gate-posts. A figure emerged from the shadows, staring towards us, and J.B. lengthened his stride, whipping out his pistol, calling to him to stand. There was a confused babble of who the h.e.l.l are you, and give me the key this instant, and I'll be d.a.m.ned if I do, and then we were at the big double gates of iron railing, and Joe was snapping the retaining chain with one mighty heave on the crowbar, the gates were thrust back, and Stevens led the rush of half a dozen of our fellows into the yard. There were shouts ahead as two watchmen came running from the nearest buildings, but they stopped short at the sight of the weapons and were surrounded neat as wink.
I whistled up the wagon, now driven by one of the blacks, and ordered it into the yard. I looked round for J.B., expecting to see him making for the a.r.s.enal across the street, but he had his piece to the breast of the first watchman, and was haranguing him in fine style.
"I am Isaac Smith," he was proclaiming himself, "and you are my prisoner! Submit peaceably and no harm will come to you, but if you resist your blood will be on your own head!"
"Ye're drunk, ye old fool! And on a Sunday, too!" cries the other, pus.h.i.+ng the gun aside, but Jerry Anderson ran up and clapped a pistol to his head, and he just sank down in the mud, squawking. A voice called out of the misty darkness, from the direction of the town, asking what all the row was about, and I wheeled on Kagi.
"Take three men, round up anyone on the street over there, and bring 'em here, quick and quiet! Leeman, run to the Shenandoah bridge, see if all's well with Oliver! Bring the watchman back here! Dauphin Thompson, fetch the watchman from the Potomac bridge. And both of you - keep 'em quiet, d'ye hear?" Jerry was hustling his stricken watchman to the armoury yard, and J.B. was stalking after them, muttering; I called to him, but he didn't seem to hear -- well, someone was going to have to secure the a.r.s.enal, and quickly.
"Hazlett, and you, youngster, follow me! Bring the crow-bar!" I ran across to the a.r.s.enal building; behind me there was a babble of voices at the armoury gate, J.B.'s among them, and Stevens was snapping: "Silence, all of you! Another sound and we'll put you in eternity!" Hazlett came running with the crowbar, and I s.n.a.t.c.hed the lantern from above the door to give him light; he shoved the bar into the jamb, and with a splintering of timber the lock was burst in. It was pitch dark within, but with the lantern I had a glimpse of rifles racked and ammunition boxes piled high; I shoved the lantern into Hazlett's hand.
"Stay here - and keep that glim outside or you'll blow the town sky-high!"
I ran back to the armoury gates just as Kagi arrived, herding three or four complaining citizens with their hands in the air; they seemed to think it was some kind of practical joke until they saw the captured watchmen in the yard, surrounded by levelled rifles, and J.B., beard bristling and eyes glittering, laying down the law in his best pulpit voice.
. "Be silent, all of you! I come from Kansas to this State of slavery! I mean to free every negro slave, and to that end I have taken your armoury! If the citizens interfere with me I must only burn the town and have blood! Now, sit down upon the ground, and be quiet all."
They sat, too, scared and staring, all except one old codger who faced up to J.B.
"You're crazy, mister! What d'ye mean, scarin' folks half to death? Now, you put down that gun - why, you're as old as I am, and ought to know better!"
"Hold your tongue, friend, and do as you are bid!" growls J.B., but I heard no more, for at that moment came whooping and laughter behind me, and it was those noisy idiots, Cook and Tidd, to tell me proudly that the wires were cut, both sides. I shut them up fast enough, and then Dauphin was back with the guard from the Potomac bridge, pus.h.i.+ng him into the yard. A moment later Leeman came striding across from the trees, flouris.h.i.+ng his pistol at a terrified watchman and two fellows whom Oliver had picked up on the Shenandoah bridge.
"All's well!" cries Leeman. "Say, this is a lark, ain't it -"
"Shut up and put those men in the yard! And send Kagi to me - jump to it, man!" There was still the rifle works to attend to, six hundred yards up the Shenandoah sh.o.r.e - a matter which J.B. seemed to have forgotten; he was still hectoring the captives, now about a dozen strong, who were watching him like so many rabbits before a snake. Kagi came running, and I told him to take two blacks to the rifle works, send one of 'em back with the watchman, and sit tight until he heard from me.
He jerked a thumb in J.B.'s direction. "What about the captain? I've been telling him that our first task must be to clear the a.r.s.enal, and find wagons to carry off the arms, but all he talks about is his d.a.m.ned hostages! You must tell him, Josh - we ought to be loading up right soon, 'fore we have the town about our ears!"
"I'll talk to him when he's got his bearings. Stevens can collect his precious hostages and wagons together, and I'll get J.B. to go through the a.r.s.enal in the meantime."
"All right," says he, worried. "But, Josh - don't let him delay, will you? You know what he's like! We must be out of here by daybreak!"
"We will be, never fear!" I knew one who was going to be. "Off with you, John! Good luck!"
He went, with another doubtful look towards J.B., and I strode across to the a.r.s.enal, where Hazlett was standing in the doorway, rifle in hand, and took a quick survey around - I could just see Watson Brown under the Potomac bridge lantern; all was quiet towards Galt's saloon, its lights blinking through the trees, and there wasn't a sound from Oliver's station on the Shenandoah bridge; the curtained windows of the Wager House glowed crimson in the dark, and I could hear faint voices and laughter; J.B. and Stevens were in conference under the armoury gate lantern, and beyond them the captives were squatting silent, guarded by Leeman and the others. I looked towards the town: nothing stirred, a few lights shone in the houses only fifty yards away, but there wasn't a soul to be seen; no one was calling out, or coming to see what was amiss, or doing anything at all, apparently, except prepare for bed on a Sabbath night. It had stopped raining. We had taken Harper's Ferry.
I'm quite proud of that, still. Very well, it wasn't Sebastopol - but my plan had gone like clockwork, those gormless boys had played up like old soldiers, and we'd sealed the bridges, cut the wires, taken our three objectives, the town unsuspecting, and all within the hour. G.o.d knows I hadn't been a willing performer, and would have been over the hill but for Joe's presence - but, dammit, when you've no choice but to go ahead, your pulses start racing whether you like it or not, and excitement grips you, even though you're scared sick, because you want like h.e.l.l to accomplish the thing you've set your hand to, however reluctantly. As I stood in the chilly dark, my heart hammering, I felt a great unreasoning exultation, just for an instant before sanity returned, and Joe must have felt it, too, for he grunted "You done that pretty good, Comber", which, considering our relations, was not a bad compliment.
By this time Stevens, Cook, Tidd and a couple of blacks were hurrying off to kidnap the owner of the Was.h.i.+ngton Farm which lay a few miles up the Potomac sh.o.r.e, with J.B.'s insistence that they bring back Frederick's sword ringing in their ears. He was in an odd state: outwardly very calm, but strangely detached, as though his thoughts were far away; when I reported all well, he just nodded offhand, and when I asked if we should clear the a.r.s.enal, he said he would see to it presently, when the hostages had come in. I hinted, delicately, that haste might be advisable, since at any moment some stray citizen might happen by and raise the alarm, but at this he just frowned, stroking his beard, and muttered that we had time enough . . . and gradually it began to dawn on me that he simply didn't know what to do next, about finding wagons, or collecting arms, or rousing the slaves, or taking to the hills while our luck held. Now, of all times, he was stricken again with indecision, and retreating into his dreams by the look of him.
Well, it was nothing to me. I'd done my part perforce, and all that mattered now was throwing off the grim black shadow at my side and hitting the high road. I must just wait my chance, so I leaned against one of the gate-posts, smoking a weed and wondering, in an academic sort of way, when J.B. was going to take advantage of the capital start I'd given him.
Time's an odd thing. We hit the town about ten-thirty and secured the strongpoints, and then followed that eerie, tranquil interval of J.B.'s irresolution which no one has ever been able to explain, and which seemed to last forever - in fact it was a bare thirty minutes, until midnight. That was when things began to come adrift, and we had several hours of b.l.o.o.d.y and farcical confusion until daybreak - yet to me they seemed to pa.s.s in a few moments, one crazy incident on top of another in no time at all.
Picture the scene, gentle reader, as midnight approaches. Harper's Ferry drowses placidly 'neath the pall of night, the last gleams of light in its windows blink out one by one as citizens seek their repose, the town drunk nestles contentedly in his gutter, the liberators of Virginia stand around in picturesque uncertainty while their venerable leader contemplates the stars like a fart in a trance, the prisoners mutter sullenly in one of the armoury sheds, and not one solitary soul (least of all J.B. himself) seems to be aware that the revolution has begun. Flashy smokes and sweats, and wishes to heaven that Joe would turn his back just for half a minute and hark! a shot rings out . . . and believe it or not, no one pays the slightest b.l.o.o.d.y attention.
It came from the Potomac bridge where, unseen by us, that Canadian halfwit, Taylor, was putting a bullet through the top hair of an inopportune railway guard who had happened along, been challenged, shown fight, and got his skull creased for his pains. We heard him, soon enough, bolting out of the covered bridge, roaring and bleeding, and taking refuge in the Wager House - and, so help me, no one emerged to protest or even inquire, the town slept on undisturbed, J.B. left off contemplating to stare towards the hotel, but did nothing, our fellows confined themselves to intelligent questions like "Who the h.e.l.l was that?" and "Say, did you hear shooting?" . . and nothing further took place until there came a distant whistle from far down the Baltimore and Ohio track, and presently in steams the east-bound night train for Baltimore, clanking past the armoury and coming to a slow halt near the Wager House only fifty yards from where I stood, at which point the wounded railwayman erupted from the hotel, clutching his bleeding scalp and bawling that there were road agents on the loose, the train engineer, silly a.s.s, got down to investigate, Watson Brown and his idiots opened fire for no apparent reason, an unfortunate n.i.g.g.e.r (not one of ours) came striding down the track, was challenged by Watson, turned to run and was shot in the back, the engineer leapt back into his cab and reversed twenty yards with great blasts of steam, some stout parties in the coaches began blazing away at Watson's party, pa.s.sengers were screaming and tumbling from the train, Harper's Ferry began to wake up at last, J.B. strode to the train bellowing for everyone to hold his fire and be calm, and your correspondent began to wonder if this mightn't be a good time to retire - and would have done if Joe hadn't been holding a pistol in each hand and demanding to know what the h.e.l.l was happening.
Either because of J.B.'s thundering, or more probably because neither side could see properly what they were shooting at, the firing died away after a few moments, and there followed a remarkable conversation between our leader and the engineer. It began, predictably, with J.B. announcing that he had come "to free the slaves at all hazards and in the name of universal liberty, G.o.d helping", and the engineer calling him a liar, a lunatic, and a d.a.m.ned jayhawking rascal who'd swing for this, and by the eternal the engineer would be there to see him do it, too. J.B. rebuked him for blasphemy, a.s.sured him that no harm was intended to the train or its pa.s.sengers, and that he would let them proceed so that the railroad authorities should understand that the town was closed to traffic henceforth. The engineer d.a.m.ned his eyes and said he'd swim through seas of blood rather than budge before dawn, when he would inspect the bridge "to see what mischief you infernal scoundrels have done to it". J.B. agreed, and promised to walk over the bridge before the train (which he did, by the way) to show that it was safe.
This discussion took some time, with frequent interruptions, for you must imagine it taking place in darkness illuminated only by the train's headlight and the feeble lamps of the nearest buildings, against a background of babbling pa.s.sengers being helped into the Wager House, men shouting, females screaming, the shot darkie being carried away, a church bell belatedly sounding the alarm, bewildered citizens seeking enlightenment at the tops of their voices, and some of the bolder spirits who emerged from the shadows for a closer look being seized by our fellows at the armoury gates and sent to join the prisoners in the shed.
But no one from the town showed fight, for several good reasons - it was too dark to tell properly what was taking place, a rumour had spread through the town that we were over a hundred strong, and while the a.r.s.enal was bursting with weapons, there was hardly a gun in the town except for a few fowling pieces and the like. So while we held our positions (and J.B. continued to do nothing), the people kept their distance - except for one cool hand, a doctor, who approached the a.r.s.enal, was given the rightabout by Hazlett, and then crossed the street bold as bra.s.s to demand of J.B. what he thought he was about, and, on being told, denounced him for a murderer.
"The only black you've liberated so far is one who was free already - the poor fellow you shot down on the tracks!" He was a peppery medico this, with a jaw like a pike, and the darkie's gore all over his hands. "Look at that! He's dying this minute, with your bullet in his lung, you old blackguard!"
J.B. said he was sorry for it, but the man had run when called on to halt, and the doctor must consider himself a prisoner.
"Just try it, mister!" cries the sawbones. "Or shoot me in the back, why don't you!" And he stamped off to the Wager House, stopping on the way to survey us, and Hazlett at the a.r.s.enal, and if ever a man was taking stock, he was - sure enough, two hours later he was riding h.e.l.l-for-leather for fhe nearest town to turn out the militia . . . and meanwhile .1.B. was waiting and doing nothing, hardly answering when spoken to, and our fellows were fidgeting and muttering, and Joe was growling at me, why wasn't the cap'n takin' a-holt o' things, and why didn't I tell him? I said I'd told him, hadn't I ... and every moment my gorge was rising higher with panic as I wondered if I dared make a run for it .. .
There was a clatter of wheels from the dark, and here came a fine four-horse vehicle wheeling in to the armoury gates, with three white men and about a dozen darkies aboard, and Stevens jumping down, rifle in hand. He helped down one of the whites, a bluff old cove in a grey coat who H guessed was Was.h.i.+ngton, and I heard him sing out: "This is Ossawatomie Brown of Kansas!" as J.B. strode forward to meet them. One of our darkies jumped down after them, brandis.h.i.+ng a sheathed sabre, and calling out: "Here 'tis, cap'n - here de ole sword, sho' 'nuff!" and J.B. seized on it and stood with it in his hand as he told Was.h.i.+ngton that he had been taken for the moral effect it would give to our cause, but he would be shown every attention, "and if we get the worst of it, your life will be worth as much as mine", whatever that meant. Was.h.i.+ngton took it mighty cool, saying nothing, and presently he and the two other whites, a man and a youth, were put in the yard, and J.B. supervised the distribution of pikes to the slaves in the captured carriage, telling them they were free men now, and must defend their liberties, and the poor black b.u.g.g.e.rs stood in terrified bewilderment, looking at the pikes as though they were rattle-snakes. A fine rebellion we're going to have, thinks I; ah, well, they'll shape better, no doubt, when they've built their forts in the hills and dug communicating tunnels.
I kept clear of all this, but so did Joe, d.a.m.n him, and my gorge rose another couple of notches, for the dark was beginning to lift slowly, and I could see clear to the nearest houses of the town, where people were peeping out, and some even gathering on the corners, staring across at us. There were faces at the windows of the Wager House, and hard by it, where the train stood, pa.s.sengers were climbing aboard, with scared glances in our direction. In the armoury yard all was confusion, for the prisoners had been let out of their shed and were mingling with the newcomers in a great babble of voices, the n.i.g.g.e.rs with the pikes looked ready to weep, and our men were watching anxiously as Stevens and Tidd clamoured around J.B., who now had the sword girt round his middle, and was exulting over a brace of barkers, presumably the property of the late Marquis de Lafayette.
"Why, we got more prisoners here than there is of us!" Tidd was exclaiming, and Stevens was arguing with J.B. about loading up from the a.r.s.enal, and getting nowhere; J.B.'s notion was to send Was.h.i.+ngton's carriage, which was larger than our wagon, over into Maryland, to collect the Kennedy Farm weapons, which Owen would have s.h.i.+fted by now to a school-house closer to the Potomac, and bring them back to supplement the arms in the a.r.s.enal. Stevens frowned in dismay.
"But, cap'n, 'twill be full light in an hour! See here, why don't we load up the carriage an' the wagon from the a.r.s.enal now, with everythin' we need, call in Kagi an' Oliver, an' all of us hightail it out o' here - we can pick up Owen an' the arms from the school-house, an' be in the hills 'fore noon!" He gestured towards the houses, where more people were a.s.sembling, watching us. "Look at them folks yonder - how long they goin' to let us alone, you reckon?"
J.B. gave him a stern look. "You forget, Captain Stevens, that it is here, at the Ferry, that the slaves will rally to us. Why, if we were to leave now, we should be abandoning them! No more of that, sir!"
"Well, I don't know that the slaves are coming!" says Stevens. "We saw no sign of 'em when we came in just now, I can tell you!"
"An' it'll take three hours, easy, to get to the school-house an' load up an' come back here again!" cries Tidd. "Then we got to clear out the a.r.s.enal - cap'n, it'll be noon 'fore-we can get out o' town! Why, the militia'll be here by then!"
"An' come dawn, these folks are goin' to see how few we are!" I could see Stevens was keeping his temper with difficulty. "They ain't goin' to stand by!"
J.B. stilled them with a raised hand, like a patient parent. "The hostages are our a.s.surance of safety. The people will dare nothing against us for fear of harming them. And I will not desert the negroes!" He became peremptory. "Captain Tidd, you and Captains Leeman and Cook will take the carriage away, and receive our pikes and rifles from Owen -"
"But they're three of our best men, sir!" Stevens was near despair. "I beg you, send but one, and some of the slaves!"
But J.B. was deaf to all common sense, and presently the carriage rolled off over the Potomac bridge with Cook at t he reins and Tidd and Leeman marching alongside, with a gaggle of the freed darkies in the back. Stevens pleaded with .1.13. at least to start clearing the a.r.s.enal.
"First I must keep my promise to the engineer," says J.B., and off he went to the train, his rifle cradled in his arm and his sword trailing in the mud, holloing to the engineer that he might get up steam. The townsfolk across the way set up a murmur at the sight of his commanding figure striding towards the tracks, but he paid them no mind at all, and presently the train was chugging slowly on to the covered bridge, with the old man striding ahead of it, and the crowd before the Wager House fallen silent.
"By gad, he's cool!" says Stevens to me. "Too dam' cool! I tell you, Josh, we ain't got but a couple of hours 'fore we'll have to shoot our way out! What ails him? He acts like we was in a town meetin'!"
It was true, and everyone who was through Harper's Ferry will tell you the same - the chancier things got, the calmer grew J.B., as though he were in the grip of some soothing drug. Stevens swore through his teeth. "We've got to get John Kagi down here - he'll take heed of Kagi!" And pat on his words there was a commotion at the Wager House, and one of our n.i.g.g.e.rs came running from under the trees, brandis.h.i.+ng his Sharps. The folk scattered to let him through, and he came panting up to tell us he was from the rifle works, and Kagi wanted to know when J.B. planned to retire from the town, because he'd seen a rider galloping along the Charles Town road.
Flashman - Flashman and the Angel of the Lord Part 12
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Flashman - Flashman and the Angel of the Lord Part 12 summary
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