Cloverdale Union High School - Spectator Yearbook (Cloverdale, CA)

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m stayed in the north, and let the south go in peace,” she thought. “I hate them,” she cried to herself fiercely. “If one of them were being hanged and I could save him by cutting the rope I would not.” As she spoke stamping her foot with anger, she was startled by a shout from the woods followed by half a dozen rifle shots that rang sharply on the still evening air. They came from a distance of not more than a quarter of a mile. Alarmed by this interruption to the quiet of the hour and not knowing what danger might be threatening, the girl turned and started to run toward the house. As she did so, however, there was a crackling in the bushes within a few feet. They parted and a man burst through them. He was a pitiable object. His clothes, which were those of a farmer, were torn and ragged to the extreme and covered with mud. His hat was gone, his hands and face were scratched and bleeding from the bushes through which he had passed. He was staggering from weari¬ ness. At sight of this figure Marjory would have fled the faster had not he spoken. “For God ' s sake stop,” he cried, “help me. They are close behind. They will be here in a moment! I can go no farther. Unless I find a place to hide I will be caught! ’ ’ As he spoke these words he sank to the ground as if no longer able to stand. Marjory hesitated, the voice though weak from fatigue, be¬ trayed education above his seeming station. “There can be nothing to fear from him,” she thought, her heart moved by pity for his condition. “Who are you?” she asked. “You are a confederate,” he asked hesitatingly. “Yes you all are down here. I need not have asked, but you look kind, I will trust you. I am not what I seem. I am a Yankee soldier, Captain Lane. I will tell you more. Yester¬ day I was sent into Petersburg in this disguise to learn the rebel plans. I obtained my information and was returning to the Union lines when I was pursued by the Rebel cavalry. Since noon I have run and walked through wood and swamps. 9

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The Treason of Marjory Carew Herbert Belford, T1 It was the close of a hot June day in 1864. The last rays of the descending sun fell upon a large opening in the woods a few miles north and west of the spot where a little more than a month before the terrific battle of the wilderness had been fought. The opening was that of a large plantation which before the war had produced great quantities of tobacco. The fields were now overgrown with weeds and the fences and out-buildings had a neglected look. The plantation was the property of John Carew who with his only son was now with Lee ' s army defending Petersburg, fibs wife and daughter, Marjory, were left in charge of the plantation. When the union army had advanced that spring the slaves had deserted in a body, leaving Mrs. Carew and her daughter alone, save for one old negress who had been Marjory ' s nurse. On the evening in question, we find Marjory near the south¬ ern end of the clearing, where she had wandered in search of wild flowers. She was tall and slender with an abundance of wavy brown hair and blue eyes ordinarily dancing with fun but capable of becoming soft and tender when she was moved by pity or love. Just now, however, they expressed sadness and concern as did her whole manner, for she was thinking of her father and brother away there at Petersburg facing death for the cause so many brave men had died for, namely, the cause of the Con¬ federacy. Even now one of them might be lying dead or burn¬ ing with the fever of wounds on some battle fields. At the thought her blood turned cold and her heart almost stopped beating. “Oh! why could not those terrible Yankees havt 8

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I am completely exhausted. Unless you show me a place to hide they will take and hang me. Wont you help me? At this appeal, all her fierce resolves against the Yankees melted. Ah! for the fickleness of woman. 4 ‘I pity you.” she said moving nearer, “I would like to help you, but oh! how can I ? It would be betraying my country to let you escape with the plans of our fortifications. She paused irresolute. lie had risen and stood with head bent, too proud to beg further. After a moment’s thought, Marjory’s face brightened, she spoke earnestly. “I will help you, if you will give your word of honor not to use the information you gained in the Confederate fort.” “Would you trust the word of a perfect stranger?” he said, a look of surprise and pleasure crossing his worn face. 4 Wes,” she replied, “something tells me you will keep your word.” “But I can’t give the promise you ask. I have sworn to die if necessary for my country. It would be breaking that oath to do as you wish. I would be unworthy the trust you place in me if I did. No! I must try and struggle on. If I escape I shall re¬ member your wish to help me. If I am taken, my last thought will be of your kindness.” Their conversation was at this moment interrupted by a crashing in the bushes a hundred yards or so away. Captain Lane started and turned hurriedly to run in the other direction. He was interrupted by Marjory speaking in a determined voice. “I cannot let you go to your death, I will help you at any cost. Follow me.” She started to run toward the house, Lane, given renewed strength by hope, following close behind. As they neared the house and were just about to round the corner which would conceal them from the spot in the woods that they had left, their pursuers burst into the open. Almost instantly they spied the fugitives and with a shout rode after them. “Come on,” the girl panted. “I can’t hide you in the house. Mother would never consent to help a Yankee.” 10