At Harper's Ferry
*
Coaxing their horses slowly along, Jack and Ezra arrived at Harper’s Ferry in the mid-morning. They had managed to keep up a good pace through the rest of the night, but now felt the long hours catching up to them. The chill of the morning was giving away to the heat of the sun, but it would be some time before they felt warm again. They stopped at the top of a hill overlooking the town of scattered buildings below. Harper's Ferry was located at the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers. With the railroad and the armory, the town was of strategic importance to the Army. For now it was quiet with only a few soldiers out in the streets.
Ezra yawned and stretched as he said, “It looks like the Federals are not here in any considerable force. It appears they are moving the majority of the troops to Washington first.”
Jack sleepily agreed. He said, “It seems like a foolish mistake, but I’m no general. Let’s go on down and see if we can find Davis. I want to take care of this quickly as I still have some business back in Washington.” Without any further explanation, Jack trotted his horse forward.
Ezra gave his friend a quizzical look and with a shrug kicked his own horse forward.
As they came into the town, a soldier stepped out from the shadows of a house. He had his rifle raised and ready. “Hold up,” he shouted nervously. “What business do you have here?” His uniform was deep blue wool, and so new it was still creased.
Jack reached cautiously and pulled out the papers he received from Garrett from his coat pocket. “We are here on behalf of the City Ward of Washington. We are looking for a spy who may have come this way.”
After looking at the papers, the soldier stood aside and said, “You know Virginia seceded just yesterday? We only have a small garrison here, but hope to keep Harper’s Ferry out of their militia’s hands.”
“I wish you luck. But who’s in command here?” Jack asked.
“Lieutenant Jones,” the soldier replied. “He can be found at the Armory down the road.”
The detective tipped his hat and said, “I thank you.”
They passed the soldier and made their way towards the Armory. The few soldiers there were busy moving carts and hauling boxes. The men looked frightened. The Armory itself was the site of the failed slavery rebellion in October of 1859. It was here that John Brown was captured and hanged after Colonel Robert E. Lee had put down the insurrection.
Jack and Ezra rode into the courtyard where a few horses were tied up. There, a lieutenant scanned the railway bridges with a set of field glasses. He turned when he heard them ride up. “And who might you be?” he asked impatiently.
“My name is Jack Blackwood. This here is my partner, Ezra Miller,” Jack said. “You must be Lieutenant Jones.”
“That I am,” Jones replied suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”
“We are here looking for someone named Ethan Davis. He has some stolen government papers in his possession which he means to sell to the Secessionists.”
“I see. I would like to help you but we are in a heap of trouble here. As you may have already heard, Virginia voted to secede from the Union. I fear they may march on Harper’s Ferry any moment and try to take the Armory. I can’t let that happen, but I’m short of men and short of time.”
“Mister Miller and I will be willing to help, but I need to know if you have seen any strangers come through here recently?”
“I can’t say that I have,” Jones replied curtly. “But we aren’t exactly keeping track of any citizens coming or going. What does this Ethan Davis look like?”
“He is of a medium build, blonde hair, and dresses well. As far as I know he would be traveling alone.”
“There haven’t been too many visitors here lately, and I haven’t seen anyone of that particular description. Right now there have been more people leaving the town than coming in. They are afraid the Virginians will be coming in here to loot the place.”
“Could he have slipped in here unnoticed?” Ezra asked.
“I have a few men patrolling the outskirts of the town, but I don’t have enough of them to keep the area completely secure. If someone really wanted to sneak in here, I doubt if I could stop them.”
“I see,” Jack said hiding his disappointment. He grinned at his partner before continuing. “Lieutenant, you are in luck, I was once in the Army, and we can both use our guns pretty well.”
The Lieutenant's tone became less formal and friendlier. "Really," he said. "What did you do when you were in the Army?”
“I worked as a scout. I’m a fair shot with this here Colt rifle and Mister Miller here isn’t that bad either.”
“That’s good. Right now I need some more men to keep an eye out across the Potomac. The Virginians are sure to try to take the bridge in order to get into town. If this Davis of yours is trying to escape, that would be an obvious route for him to take.”
“We are running short on ammunition, but my partner and I can watch that area if you think it is suitable.” Jack looked over at Ezra, who nodded his assent.
“That would be much appreciated,” Jones replied. He wiped his face with his sleeve and pointed towards the railway bridge. “If you need more ammunition it can be gotten from the stores over there. That rail bridge is the only egress across the river in the town of Harper’s Ferry. You could cover that point and keep an eye out towards the other side. If you see anything suspicious, run down and let me know.”
“Sure,” Jack said. “We can manage that for you.”
With a salute, Jack and Ezra left. They watered their horses at the trough and then tied them to the post outside the armory. Afterward, Jack looked over to the rail bridge across the river. There was a small white house on a hill near the road that overlooked it. He pointed it out. “That is where we will keep watch.”
“Yes, but let’s stock up first,” Ezra said.
They went to the ammunition stores. A private’s official manner gave away to friendliness once they mentioned their assignment from Lieutenant Jones. After receiving a stock of gunpowder and shot, they then climbed their way up the hill, lugging their rifles with them.
The house door was padlocked shut and Jack knocked. No one answered the door. He looked at his partner, and said “It looks like no one is home.” He then rammed his shoulder into the door, and the hasp twisted and broke. With a squeak of the rusty hinges, the door opened.
It was a poor little house, obviously not well taken care of. The floor was dusty, and the windows were unwashed. The furniture was simple, and a single pot-bellied stove once provided heat for the departed owner.
“It may not look like much,” Ezra said with a laugh, “but it has a nice view.”
The front windows faced the railroad bridge one hundred yards below. It was made out of wood with stone foundations sunk into the riverbed. It was some two hundred feet in length and cut straight across the Potomac River which lazed over rough rocks and through yellow weeds. The other side had a road next to a towering limestone butte. A few small buildings stood next to the road that meandered south into Virginia.
Jack studied the view and then said, “Good, now let’s drag this table on over to the windows. Gather some bedding from the other room too. I want to make a good gun perch to do some shooting.”
They pulled the small kitchen table over to the front windows. Jack wrestled the window open while his partner gathered some sheets and pillows from the other room. He piled the bedding on top of the table and arranged it to provide some support for the rifle.
“Why are we waiting here?” Ezra finally asked. “It seems we would be better off searching for him in the town.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover and the way I figure it, we don’t have enough time.” Jack replied as he sat on the floor, cleaning his Colt repeating rifle. He removed the cylinders and cleared out the existing loads. Afterward, he began to go carefully over the entire rifle. He
then said, “If I got this figured out right, Davis is hiding somewhere close by. He knows that the Virginians are going to strike here. He only has to wait for them to come and try to drive the Federals out. If he gets scared, then he may make an attempt to cross here.”
“What makes you think he is still here?” Ezra asked. “He could have found a way around the town and forded across the river.”
“Perhaps, but what other choice do we have? This town isn’t exactly well guarded and this garrison won’t last long against any organized force. If Davis doesn’t show up, at least we can lend a hand.”
Ezra shook his head.
“Doubting my patriotism?” Jack asked sarcastically. “Now in all seriousness, I’m hoping that Davis really is here and won’t be able to stand the pressure of waiting. If that is true, then he’ll try to flee across that bridge, right into the arms of the Virginians. And when he does, I’ll shoot him before he even makes it half-way across.”
Ezra frowned and said, “It doesn’t sound like you’re giving him much of a sporting chance.”
Jack laughed. “The way I look at it, he sent Stevenson to try to kill me. I won’t mind giving him something in return for his troubles. Now I want you to keep guard around the house. I’m going to be concentrating on that bridge and don’t want someone to sneak up on me. Too many hunters have gotten blindsided by looking in the wrong direction at the wrong time. If you see Davis coming towards the bridge, give me a shout so I can ready my shot.”
“Will do,” Ezra said impatiently. “If there really is anything to see, you'll be the first to know.” He walked out of the door with his loaded rifle.
Jack lit his candle stub and started placing wax around the newly packed Colt cylinders. He then looked down the rifle sights and brushed away some dust on the barrel. Afterwards, he pulled himself on to the table and tried to get comfortable. He ended up stretched out on the table on his stomach. The gun was pointed out of the window, straight down the hill and onto the bridge. He slowly went over the landscape with his field glasses and kept his eyes busy looking for any movement across the river. After a few minutes of this, he shifted uncomfortably on top of the piled blankets and tried to clear his mind for any upcoming action.
The rest of the afternoon went by with relative quiet. The river flowed gently under the bridge, and the sun shone brightly over the town. Ezra continued to prowl quietly around the house, looking carefully to see if anyone was trying to approach unseen. He gnawed on a bit of jerky that he also shared with Jack. Only rarely could the movements of the soldiers in the town be seen.
In spite of himself, Jack’s thoughts drifted away and he found himself picturing Faith. He thought of her long blonde hair, friendly manner, and the kisses she had given him. He relaxed a little under the influence of these thoughts and forgot his hunger and tiredness. He also thought of Lawrence’s corpse, the grief of the Hanson family, and his own recent killing of Stevenson. Would Faith be shocked by the death of Stevenson or would she be happy to hear the news? Perhaps he wouldn’t tell her about any of this. It might be for the best if such bloody events were kept from her.
The low rumble of the river made the town seem eerily quiet. Jack yawned, blinked quickly and shook his head as if in a daze. He looked through the glasses again. Across the river, down the road, he suddenly saw four men on horseback approaching warily. Any thoughts of sleep disappeared when he saw they were all wearing the same type of uniform and had cavalry sabers on their sides. He shouted for Ezra who came bounding in.
Jack said, “It looks as if that Lieutenant was right. Those look like Virginian Cavalry scouting the way ahead for the main army. Go on down and warn him that enemy scouts are across the river. Tell him that they will be bringing up their main force soon.”
The ex-slave nodded, went out the back door, and ran down the hill towards the armory.
Jack turned his field glasses back to view the scouts. They were on foot now, having left their horses behind to try to view the riverbank without being seen. Their uniforms were simple light blues, with only a feather on the side of their caps to designate their cavalry status. One had a set of field glasses of his own and was sweeping it over the town. He spoke to his fellow soldiers and pointed towards the armory. After a few more exchanged words, they turned and ran back towards their horses. They quickly left in a gallop after mounting up.
Ezra returned, breathless from exertion. “I told the Lieutenant about the scouts. He is putting some of his men in position by the riverbank on this side. If the militia tries to come across that bridge, his men should be able to stop them from making it across.”
“That’s good,” Jack said. “Now I’m going to take a break for a minute and stretch my legs. It might be the last chance I get for a while.” He slid off the table and began walking back and forth across the room, smoking a cigarette. He stopped every minute to look along the river with his field glasses. Some two dozen Federal soldiers were now on this side of the river, hunkered low in the shrubs. He waited for a few minutes before he pulled himself up on the table to wait once more.
It was early evening when Jack first spotted the Virginian infantry marching down the road. There appeared to be several companies led by officers on horseback. He estimated well over two hundred men were now approaching. Their bayonets shone in the sunset, and the steady sound of their march could be faintly heard over the gurgle of the river.
“They’re here, Ezra. Now I just hope that the Lieutenant’s men see them from down there. Remember, I can’t spare you for a minute. If you hear a horse heading towards the bridge, you give me a shout. Don’t worry about the Federals. They can take care of themselves. I will only have a few seconds to make my shot before Davis will be safely across. I can’t let him get too far or else we will never have a chance of getting those papers back.”
The peace of the evening was suddenly broken by the sound of rifles firing and echoing off the water. The small group of Federals in place had begun to fire upon the massed men across the river. At that distance, their fire wasn’t accurate, but the Virginian ranks broke and took up positions in the small surrounding buildings. Soon a rifle was poking out of every window and was returning fire. Jack watched through his field glasses and frowned. The Federals were heavily outnumbered and had little hope of holding off the Virginians for long.
Ezra said, “How long do you think this will last?”
“It will be hard for the Rebels to cross the river,” the detective replied tersely, without breaking his view through his field glasses. “They can either try to swim across and get their powder wet, or they have to take the bridge. Now hold on, what are they trying to do now?”
By now the Federals had moved off the riverbank and were taking positions further back behind what cover they could find. A sizable group of Virginians took advantage of this break and started to make their way across the bridge. They moved quickly with their heads held low and their muskets held forward with one hand. This movement was soon spotted by the Federal troops, but their sporadic fire was not enough to cause the Virginians to retreat back into cover. Jack put his glasses down and readied his Colt Rifle.
He spoke to Ezra over his shoulder, “I know this is a gamble, but if Davis is here, this is a good chance for him to make his break. Keep your eyes and ears open and let me know if you see him coming.”
The Virginians made it half way across the bridge before the returning fire was too heavy for them. They were now down on their stomachs, inching slowly forward on the rough wooden beams. From that position, they would return fire on the Federals and then reload with great difficulty.
Ezra was looking out towards the road to the armory when he saw the smoke begin to rise from the buildings. “Jack,” he said, “the Armory is on fire.”
The detective didn’t even turn to look. “That Lieutenant must have realized he can’t hope to keep this town. He’s decided
to burn the Armory down instead of letting the Virginians have the guns and powder.”
Ezra shouted, "There’s someone coming on horseback! Whoever it is, is heading straight towards the bridge.”
Jack sighed with relief. This had to be Davis. “Here we go,” he spat out. His heart started to pound and he breathed deeply trying to calm his nerves. His hand itched as he readied himself for the shot.
The black man watched as the man on horseback made his way down the road towards the bridge. The horse pushed through a group of soldiers carrying torches. The dumbfounded men tried to shoot, but their shots went wild in the chaos of the moment. The horse continued on galloping hard and began to turn onto the bridge.
Ezra’s eyes widened as he recognized the fleeing figure. “It’s Davis!” he shouted. “Shoot!”