Chapter 28
THE SLAVE-MARTYR.
The Siege of Washington, N.C.—Big Bob, the Negro Scout.—The Perilous Adventure.—The Fight.—Return.—Night Expedition.—The Fatal Sandbar.—The Enemy's Shells.—"Somebody's got to die to get us out of this, and it may as well be me."—Death of Bob.—Safety of the Boat.
The siege of Washington, N.C., had carried consternation among the planters of the surrounding country, and contrabands were flocking in by hundreds, when, just at day-break one morning, a band of seventeen came to the shore, and hailed the nearest gunboat. The blacks were soon taken on board, when it was ascertained that they had travelled fifty miles the previous night, guided by their leader, a negro whom they called "Big Bob." This man was without a drop of Anglo-Saxon blood in his veins, if color was a true index. It was also soon known that he was a preacher, or had been, among his fellow-slaves. These men all expressed a desire to be put to work, and, if allowed, to fight for "de ole flag."
"Big Bob" sported a suit of rebel gray, which his fellow-slaves could not; and the way in which he obtained it was rather amusing. In the region from which they escaped, the blacks were being enrolled in the rebel army; and Bob and his companions were taken, and put under guard, preparatory to their being removed to the nearest military post. Bob, however, resolved that he would not fight for the rebel cause, and induced his comrades to join in the plan of seizing the guard, and bringing him away with them; which they did, Bob claiming the rebel soldier's clothes, when that individual was dismissed, after a march of thirty miles from their home. Bob made an amusing appearance, being above six feet in height, and dressed in a suit, the legs of the pants of which were five or six inches too short, and the arms of the coat proportionally short.
A few days after the arrival of the contrabands, their services were needed in an important expedition in the interior. These negroes, upon being told what was wanted of them, although knowing that the enterprise would be attended with the greatest danger, and would require the utmost skill, volunteered their services, and, upon being furnished with arms and implements, immediately started upon the expedition. Being landed upon a point some little distance from Washington, they succeeded in penetrating the enemy's country, arresting three very important rebels, and conveying them to the fleet. In the return march, the rebels complained at their being made to walk so far and so fast; but Bob, the captain of the company, would occasionally be heard urging them along after this style: "March along dar, massa; no straggling to de rear: come, close up dar, close up dar! we're boss dis time." On the arrival of the party, the blacks were highly complimented by the commander.
A week had scarcely passed, and the slaves rested, before they were sent upon a more difficult and dangerous expedition; yet these men, with Bob to lead them, were ready for any enterprise, provided they could have arms and ammunition. Once more landed on shore, they started with a determination to accomplish the object for which they had been sent. They had not gone far before they were attacked by a scouting-party from the rebel camp, and four of the whites and one of the blacks were killed: one also of the latter was wounded. However, the rebels were put to flight, and the negroes made good their escape. Still bent on obeying the orders of the commander, they took a somewhat different route, and proceeded on their journey. Having finished their mission, which was the destroying of two very large salt-works, breaking up fifty salt-kettles, a large tannery, and liberating twenty-three slaves, some of whom they armed with guns taken in their fight with the rebels, Bob commenced retracing his steps. The return was not so easily accomplished, for the enemy were well distributed on the line between them and the gunboats. After getting within four miles of the fleet, and near Point Rodman, a fight took place between the colored men and the rebels, which lasted nearly an hour. The blacks numbered less than forty; while the whites were more than one hundred. The negroes were called upon to surrender; but Bob answered, "No, I never surrenders." And then he cried out, "Come on, boys! ef we's captud, we's got to hang; and dat's a fack." And nobly did they fight, whipping their assailants, and reaching the gunboats with but the loss of three men killed and ten wounded. Bob and his companions were greatly praised when once more on the fleet.
But Bob's days were numbered; for the next day a flat full of soldiers, with four blacks, including Bob, attempted to land at Rodman's Point, but were repulsed by a terrible fire of rebel bullets, all tumbling into the boat, and lying flat to escape being shot. Meanwhile the boat stuck fast on the sand-bar, while the balls were still whizzing over and around the flat. Seeing that something must be done at once, or all would be lost, Big Bob exclaimed, "Somebody's got to die to get us out of this, and it may as well be me!" He then deliberately got out, and pushed the boat of, and fell into it, pierced by five bullets.
"Big Bob" sported a suit of rebel gray, which his fellow-slaves could not; and the way in which he obtained it was rather amusing. In the region from which they escaped, the blacks were being enrolled in the rebel army; and Bob and his companions were taken, and put under guard, preparatory to their being removed to the nearest military post. Bob, however, resolved that he would not fight for the rebel cause, and induced his comrades to join in the plan of seizing the guard, and bringing him away with them; which they did, Bob claiming the rebel soldier's clothes, when that individual was dismissed, after a march of thirty miles from their home. Bob made an amusing appearance, being above six feet in height, and dressed in a suit, the legs of the pants of which were five or six inches too short, and the arms of the coat proportionally short.
A few days after the arrival of the contrabands, their services were needed in an important expedition in the interior. These negroes, upon being told what was wanted of them, although knowing that the enterprise would be attended with the greatest danger, and would require the utmost skill, volunteered their services, and, upon being furnished with arms and implements, immediately started upon the expedition. Being landed upon a point some little distance from Washington, they succeeded in penetrating the enemy's country, arresting three very important rebels, and conveying them to the fleet. In the return march, the rebels complained at their being made to walk so far and so fast; but Bob, the captain of the company, would occasionally be heard urging them along after this style: "March along dar, massa; no straggling to de rear: come, close up dar, close up dar! we're boss dis time." On the arrival of the party, the blacks were highly complimented by the commander.
A week had scarcely passed, and the slaves rested, before they were sent upon a more difficult and dangerous expedition; yet these men, with Bob to lead them, were ready for any enterprise, provided they could have arms and ammunition. Once more landed on shore, they started with a determination to accomplish the object for which they had been sent. They had not gone far before they were attacked by a scouting-party from the rebel camp, and four of the whites and one of the blacks were killed: one also of the latter was wounded. However, the rebels were put to flight, and the negroes made good their escape. Still bent on obeying the orders of the commander, they took a somewhat different route, and proceeded on their journey. Having finished their mission, which was the destroying of two very large salt-works, breaking up fifty salt-kettles, a large tannery, and liberating twenty-three slaves, some of whom they armed with guns taken in their fight with the rebels, Bob commenced retracing his steps. The return was not so easily accomplished, for the enemy were well distributed on the line between them and the gunboats. After getting within four miles of the fleet, and near Point Rodman, a fight took place between the colored men and the rebels, which lasted nearly an hour. The blacks numbered less than forty; while the whites were more than one hundred. The negroes were called upon to surrender; but Bob answered, "No, I never surrenders." And then he cried out, "Come on, boys! ef we's captud, we's got to hang; and dat's a fack." And nobly did they fight, whipping their assailants, and reaching the gunboats with but the loss of three men killed and ten wounded. Bob and his companions were greatly praised when once more on the fleet.
But Bob's days were numbered; for the next day a flat full of soldiers, with four blacks, including Bob, attempted to land at Rodman's Point, but were repulsed by a terrible fire of rebel bullets, all tumbling into the boat, and lying flat to escape being shot. Meanwhile the boat stuck fast on the sand-bar, while the balls were still whizzing over and around the flat. Seeing that something must be done at once, or all would be lost, Big Bob exclaimed, "Somebody's got to die to get us out of this, and it may as well be me!" He then deliberately got out, and pushed the boat of, and fell into it, pierced by five bullets.
"The surf with ricochetting balls
Was churned and splashed around us:
I heard my comrades' hurried calls,
"The rebel guns have found us.'
Our vessel shivered! Far beneath
The treacherous sand had caught her.
What man will leap to instant death
To shove her into water?
Strange light shone in our hero's eye;
His voice was strong and steady:
'My brothers, one of us must die;
And I, thank God! am ready.'
A shell flew toward us, hissing hate,
Then screaming like a demon:
He calmly faced the awful fate,
Resolved to die a freeman.
He fell, his heart cut through with shot:
The true blood of that martyr
Out from his body spurted hot
To flee the shame of barter.
We lifted up the brave man's corse;
We thought him fair aud saintly:
The rebel bullets round us hoarse
We heard, but dull and faintly.
' Tis ever so: a great deed wrought,
The doer falls that moment,
As if to save the God-like thought
From any human comment.
Heroes are dead men by that fact;
Fame haunts our grave-yards, sighing,
'Alas! that man's divinest act
Should be the act of dying.'"
Was churned and splashed around us:
I heard my comrades' hurried calls,
"The rebel guns have found us.'
Our vessel shivered! Far beneath
The treacherous sand had caught her.
What man will leap to instant death
To shove her into water?
Strange light shone in our hero's eye;
His voice was strong and steady:
'My brothers, one of us must die;
And I, thank God! am ready.'
A shell flew toward us, hissing hate,
Then screaming like a demon:
He calmly faced the awful fate,
Resolved to die a freeman.
He fell, his heart cut through with shot:
The true blood of that martyr
Out from his body spurted hot
To flee the shame of barter.
We lifted up the brave man's corse;
We thought him fair aud saintly:
The rebel bullets round us hoarse
We heard, but dull and faintly.
' Tis ever so: a great deed wrought,
The doer falls that moment,
As if to save the God-like thought
From any human comment.
Heroes are dead men by that fact;
Fame haunts our grave-yards, sighing,
'Alas! that man's divinest act
Should be the act of dying.'"
