Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil WarBenson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
History
Who goes there? : $b The story of a spy in the Civil War
Benson, B. K. (Blackwood Ketcham)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant Russell. He
gave me all the information he could. The right-hand road, by the
blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek near its mouth, he
said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River, and at the place where it
crossed the Pamunkey another road came in, running down the river from
Hanover Court-House. He was sure that the road which came in was the
road from Hanover to the ferry at Hanover Old Town; he believed the
ferry had not yet been destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him
where the left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road
to Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a
considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road. This
also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my hat the
several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church to Hanover
Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I could have some
resource, but I found that I could remember without uncovering.
The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what he knew
did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if he knew where
the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are coming and going," said
he; "one day they will be moving, and then a day will pass without our
hearing of them. If they have a post anywhere, I don't know it."
"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"
"No--nobody at all," said he.
Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had swallowed our
breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee. For several reasons I
thought it best to take the road to the left: first, it was away from
the river, which the rebels were supposed to be watching closely;
second, the distance seemed not so great; and, third, it was said to
traverse a less populous region.
I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided that we
should ride forward alternately, at least until we should strike the
crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones, rode forward for
fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to him to come on. As he
went by me I told him to continue to advance until he should reach, a
turn in the road; then he should halt and let me pass him. At the first
stop he made I saw with pleasure that he had the good judgment to halt
on the side of the road amongst the bushes. I now rode up to him in
turn, and paused before passing.
"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.
"Yes, sir."
"And have seen nothing?"
"No, sir; not a thing."
"You understand why we advance in this manner?"
"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both can watch
for both."
"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the same time;
one of us might be left to tell the tale."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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