CHAPTER XXV
DESPERATE EFFORT TO RESCUE THOMAS A. EDISON FROM THE GERMANS
I wish I might detail my experiences during the next fortnight, how I wasguarded from the Germans (they had put a price on my head) by kindfriends in Brooklyn, notably Mrs. Anne P. L. Field, the Sing-Sing angel,who contrived my escape through the German lines of occupation with thehelp of a swift motor boat and two of her convict proteges.
We landed in Newark one dark night after taking desperate chances on thebay and running a gauntlet of German sentries who fired at us repeatedly.Then, thanks to my old friend, Francis J. Swayze of the United StatesSupreme Court, I was passed along across northern New Jersey, throughDover, where "Pop" Losee, the eloquent ice man evangelist, saved me fromPrussians guarding the Picatinny arsenal, then through Allentown, Pa.,where Editor Roth swore to a suspicious German colonel that I was one ofhis reporters, and, finally, by way of Harrisburg to Pittsburg, where atlast I was safe.
To my delight I found Randolph Ryerson anxiously awaiting my arrival andeager to proceed with our plan to rescue Edison. We set forth forRichmond the next day, January 16th, 1922, in a racing automobile andproceeded with the utmost caution, crossing the mountains of WestVirginia and Virginia by night to avoid the sentries of both armies.Twice, being challenged, we drove on unheeding at furious speed andescaped in the darkness, although shots were fired after us.
As morning broke on January 20th we had our first view of theseven-hilled city on the James, with its green islands and its tumblingmuddy waters. We knew that Richmond was held by the Germans, and as weapproached their lines I realised the difficulty of my position, for Iwas now obliged to trust Ryerson absolutely and let him make use of hiscredentials from the Crown Prince which presented him as an American spyin the German service. He introduced me as his friend and a person to beabsolutely trusted, which practically made me out a spy also. It wasevident that, unless we succeeded in our mission, I had compromisedmyself gravely. Ryerson was reassuring, however, and declared thateverything would be all right.
We took a fine suite at the Hotel Jefferson, where we found Germanofficers in brilliant uniforms strolling about the great rotunda orrefreshing themselves with pipes and beer in the palm room nearthe whitemarble statue of Thomas Jefferson.
"If you'll excuse me now for a few hours," said Ryerson, who seemedrather nervous, "I will get the information we need from some of thesefellows. Let us meet here at dinner."
During the afternoon I drove about this peaceful old city with itsgardens and charming homes and was allowed to approach the threateningsiege guns which the Germans had set up on the broad esplanade ofMonument Avenue between the equestrian statue of Robert E. Lee and thetall white shaft that bears the heroic figure of Jefferson Davis. Theseguns were trained upon the gothic tower of the city hall and upon thecherished grey pile of the Capitol, with its massive columns and itsshaded park where grey squirrels play about the famous statue of GeorgeWashington.
My driver told me thrilling stories of the fighting here when FieldMarshal von Mackensen marched his army into Richmond. Alas for this proudSouthern city! What could she hope to do against 150,000 Germansoldiers? For the sake of her women and children she decided to donothing officially, but the Richmond "Blues" had their own ideas and acrowd of Irish patriots from Murphy's Hotel had theirs, and when theGerman army, with bands playing and eagles flying, came tramping downBroad Street, they were halted presently by four companies of eighty meneach in blue uniforms and white plumed hats drawn up in front of thestatues of Stonewall Jackson and Henry Clay ready to die here on thispleasant autumn morning rather than have this most sacred spot in theSouth desecrated by an invader. And die here they did or fell wounded,the whole body of Richmond "Blues," under Colonel W. J. Kemp, while theirband played "Dixie" and the old Confederate flags waved over them.
As for the Irishmen, it seems that they marched in a wild and cursing mobto the churchyard of old St. John's where Patrick Henry hurled his famousdefiance at the British and in the same spirit--"Give me liberty or giveme death"--they fought until they could fight no longer.
As we drove through East Franklin Street I was startled to see a Germanflag flying over the honoured home of Robert E. Lee and a German sentryon guard before the door. I was told that prominent citizens of Richmondwere held here as hostages, among these being Governor Richard EvelynByrd, John K. Branch, Oliver J. Sands, William H. White, Bishop R. A.Gibson, Bishop O'Connell, Samuel Cohen and Mayor Jacob Umlauf who, inspite of his German descent, had proved himself a loyal American.
I finished the afternoon at a Red Cross bazaar held in the largeauditorium on Gary Street under the patronage of Mrs. Norman B. Randolph,Mrs. B. B. Valentine, Miss Jane Rutherford and other prominent Richmondladies. I made several purchases, including a cane made from a plank ofLibby prison and a stone paper weight from Edgar Allan Poe's boyhood homeon Fifth Street.
Leaving the bazaar, I turned aimlessly into a quiet shaded avenue and waswondering what progress Ryerson might be making with his investigations,when I suddenly saw the man himself on the other side of the way, talkingearnestly with a young woman of striking beauty and of foreignappearance. She might have been a Russian or an Austrian.
There was something in this unexpected meeting that filled me with avague alarm. Who was this woman? Why was Ryerson spending time with herthat was needed for our urgent business? I felt indignant at this lack ofseriousness on his part and, unobserved, I followed the couple as theyclimbed a hill leading to a little park overlooking the river, where theyseated themselves on a bench and continued their conversation.
Presently I passed so close to them that Ryerson could not fail to see meand, pausing at a short distance, I looked back at him. He immediatelyexcused himself to his fair companion and joined me. He was evidentlyannoyed.
"Wait here," he whispered. "I'll be back."
With that he rejoined the lady and immediately escorted her down thehill. It was fully an hour before he returned and I saw he had regainedhis composure.
"I suppose you are wondering who that lady was?" he began lightly.
"Well, yes, just a little. Is she the woman you told me about--thecountess?"
"No, no! But she's a very remarkable person," he explained. "She is knownin every capital of Europe. They say the German government pays her fiftythousand dollars a year."
"She's quite a beauty," said I.
He looked at me sharply. "I suppose she is, but that's not the point.She's at the head of the German secret service work in America. She knowsall about Edison."
"Oh!"
"She has told me where he is. That's why we came up here. Do you see thatbuilding?"
I followed his gesture across the valley and on a hill opposite saw amassive brick structure with many small windows, and around it a highwhite painted wall.
"Well?"
"That's the state penitentiary. Edison is there in the cell that was onceoccupied by Aaron Burr--you remember--when he was tried for treason?"
All this was said in so straightforward a manner that I felt ashamed ofmy doubts and congratulated my friend warmly on his zeal and success.
"Just the same, you didn't like it when you saw me with that woman--didyou?" he laughed.
I acknowledged my uneasiness and, as we walked back to the hotel, spokeearnestly with Ryerson about the grave responsibility that rested uponus, upon me equally with him. I begged him to justify his sister's faithand love and to rise now with all his might to this supreme duty andopportunity.
He seemed moved by my words and assured me that he would do the rightthing, but when I pressed him to outline our immediate course of action,he became evasive and irritable and declared that he was tired and neededa night's rest before going into these details.
As I left him at the door of his bedroom I noticed a bulky and stronglycorded package on the table and asked what it was, whereupon, in a flashof anger, he burst into a tirade of reproach, saying that I did not trusthim and was prying into his p
ersonal affairs, all of which increased mysuspicions.
"I must insist on knowing what is in that package," I said quietly. "Youneedn't tell me now, because you're not yourself, but in the morning wewill take up this whole affair. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he answered sullenly.
Here was a bad situation, and for hours I did not sleep, asking myself ifI had made a ghastly mistake in trusting Ryerson. Was his sister'ssacrifice to be in vain? Was the man a traitor still, in spite ofeverything?
Towards three o'clock I fell into fear-haunted dreams, but was presentlyawakened by a quick knocking at my door and, opening, I came face to facewith my companion, who stood there fully dressed.
"For God's sake let me come in." He looked about the room nervously."Have you anything to drink?"
I produced a flask of Scotch whiskey and he filled half a glass andgulped it down. Then he drew a massive iron key from his pocket and threwit on the bed.
"Whatever happens, keep that. Don't let me have it."
I picked up the key and looked at it curiously. It was about four incheslong and very heavy.
"Why don't you want me to let you have it?"
"Because it unlocks a door that would lead me to--hell," he criedfiercely. Then he reached for the flask.
"No, no! You've had enough," I said, and drew the bottle out of hisreach. "Randolph, you know I'm your friend, don't you? Look at me! Nowwhat's the matter? What door are you talking about?"
"The door to a wing of the prison where Edison is."
"You said he was in Aaron Burr's cell."
"He's been moved to another part of the building. That woman arrangedit."
"Why?"
He looked at me in a silence of shame, then he forced himself to speak.
"So I could carry out my orders"
"Orders? Not--not German orders?"
He nodded stolidly.
"I'm under her orders--it's the same thing. I can't help it. I can'tstand against her."
"Then she _is_ the countess?"
He bowed his head slowly.
"Yes. I meant to play fair. I would have played fair, but--theGermans put this woman on our trail when we left Chicago--theymistrusted something and--" with a gesture of despair, "she found mein Pittsburg--she--she's got me. I don't care for anything in the worldbut that woman."
"Randolph!"
"It's true. I don't want to live--without her. You needn't cock up youreyes like that. I'd go back to her now--yes, by God, I'd do this thingnow, if I could."
He had worked himself into a frenzy of rage and pain, and I sat stilluntil he grew calm again.
"What thing? What is it she wants you to do?"
"Get rid of you to begin with," he snapped out. "It's easy enough. We goto the prison--this key lets us in. I leave you in the cell with Edisonand--you saw that package in my room? It's a bomb. I explode it under thecell and--there you are!"
"You promised to do this?"
"Yes! I'm to get five thousand dollars."
"But you didn't do it, you stopped in time," I said soothingly. "You'vetold me the truth now and--we'll see what we can do about it."
He scowled at me.
"You're crazy. We can't do anything about it. The Germans are in controlof Richmond. They're watching this hotel."
Ryerson glanced at his watch.
"Half-past three. I have four hours to live."
"What!"
"They'll come for me at seven o'clock when they find I haven't carriedout my orders, and I'll be taken to the prison yard and--shot or--hanged.It's the best thing that can happen to me, but--I'm sorry for you."
"See here, Ryerson," I broke in. "If you're such a rotten coward and liarand sneak as you say you are, what are you doing here? Why didn't you goahead with your bomb business?"
He sat rocking back and forth on the side of the bed, with his head bentforward, his eyes closed and his lips moving in a sort of thick mumbling.
"I've tried to, but--it's my sister. God! She won't leave me alone. Shesaid she'd be praying for me and--all night I've seen her face. I've seenher when we were kids together, playing around in the old home--withMother there and--oh, Christ!"
I pass over a desperate hour that followed. Ryerson tried to kill himselfand, when I took the weapon from him, he begged me to put an end to hissufferings. Never until now had I realised how hard is the way of thetransgressor.
I have often wondered how this terrible night would have ended had notProvidence suddenly intervened. The city hall clock had just tolled fivewhen there came a volley of shots from the direction of Monument Avenue.
"What's that?" cried my poor friend, his haggard face lighting.
We rushed to the window, where the pink and purple lights of dawn werespreading over the spires and gardens of the sleeping city.
The shots grew in volume and presently we heard the dull boom of a siegegun, then another and another.
"It's a battle! They're bombarding the city. Look!" He pointed towardsCapitol Square. "They've struck the tower of the city hall. And overthere! The gas works!" He swept his arm towards an angry red glow thatshowed where another shell had found its target.
I shall not attempt to describe the burning of Richmond (for the thirdtime in its history) on this fateful day, January 20th, 1922, nor todetail the horrors that attended the destruction of the enemy's force ofoccupation. Historians are agreed that the Germans must be held blamelessfor firing on the city, since they naturally supposed this daybreakattack upon their own lines to be an effort of the American army andretaliated, as best they could, with their heavy guns.
It was days before the whole truth was known, although I cabled theLondon _Times_ that night, explaining that the American army had nothingto do with this attack, which was the work of an unorganised andirresponsible band of ten or twelve thousand mountaineers gathered fromthe wilds of Virginia, North Carolina and Kentucky and Tennessee.They were moon-shiners, feudists, hilly-billies, small farmers andbasket-makers, men of lean and saturnine appearance, some of them horsethieves, pirates of the forest who cared little for the laws of God orman and fought as naturally as they breathed.
These men came without flags, without officers, without uniforms. Theycrawled on their bellies and carried logs as shields. They knew and carednothing for military tactics and their strategy was that of the wildIndian. They fought to kill and they took no prisoners. It seems that aVirginia mountain girl had been wronged by a German officer and that wasenough.
For weeks the mountaineers had been advancing stealthily through thewilderness, pushing on by night, hiding in the hills and forests by day;and they had come the last fifty miles on foot, leaving their horses backin the hills. They were armed with Winchester rifles, with old-timesquirrel rifles, with muzzle loaders having long octagonal barrels andfired by cups. Some carried shot guns and cartridges stuffed withbuckshot and some poured in buckshot by the handful. They had noartillery and they needed none.
The skill in marksmanship of these men is beyond belief, there is nothinglike it in the world. With a rifle they will shoot off a turkey's head ata hundred yards (this is a common amusement) and as boys, when they goafter squirrels, they are taught to hit the animals' noses only so as notto spoil the skins. It was such natural fighters as these that GeorgeWashington led against the French and the Indians, when he saved thewreck of Braddock's army.
The Germans were beaten before they began to fight. They were surroundedon two sides before they had the least idea that an enemy was near. Theirsentries were shot down before they could give the alarm and the firstwarning of danger to the sleeping Teutons was the furious rush of tenthousand wild men who came on and came on and came on, never askingquarter and never giving it.
When the Germans tried to charge, the mountaineers threw themselves flaton the ground and fought with the craft of Indians, dodging from tree totree, from rock to rock, but always advancing. When the Germans sent uptwo of their scouting aeroplanes to report the number of the enemy'sforces, the
enemy picked off the German pilots before the machines wereover the tree tops. Here was a mixture of native savagery and efficiency,plus the lynching spirit, plus the pre-revolutionary American spirit andagainst which, with unequal numbers and complete surprise, nomathematically trained European force had the slightest chance.
The attack began at five o'clock and at eight everything was over; theGermans had been driven into the slough of Chickahominy swamp to thenortheast of Richmond (where McClellan lost an army) and slaughtered hereto the last man; whereupon the mountaineers, having done what they cameto do, started back to their mountains.
Meantime Richmond was burning, and my poor friend Ryerson and I werefacing new dangers.
"Come on!" he cried with new hope in his eyes. "We've got a chance, halfa chance."
Our one thought now was to reach the prison before it was too late, andwe ran as fast as we could through streets that were filled withterrified and scantily clad citizens who were as ignorant as we were ofwhat was really happening. A German guard at the prison gates recognisedRyerson, and we passed inside just as a shell struck one of the tobaccofactories along the river below us with a violent explosion. A momentlater another shell struck the railway station and set fire to it.
Screams of terror arose from all parts of the prison, many of the inmatesbeing negroes, and in the general confusion, we were able to reach theunused wing where Edison was confined.
"Give me that big key--quick," whispered Ryerson. "Wait here."
I obeyed and a few minutes later he beckoned to me excitedly from apassageway that led into a central court yard, and I saw a white-facedfigure bundled in a long coat hurrying after him. It was Thomas A.Edison.
Just then there came a rush of footsteps behind us with German shouts andcurses.
"They're after us," panted Randolph. "I've got two guns and I'll hold 'emwhile you two make a break for it. Take this key. It opens a red door atthe end of this passage after you turn to the right. Run and--tell mysister I--made good--at the last."
I clasped his hand with a hurried "God bless you" and darted ahead. Itwas our only chance and, even as we turned the corner of the passage,Ryerson began to fire at our pursuers. I heard afterwards that he woundedfive and killed two of them. I don't know whether that was the count, butI know he held them until we made our escape out into the blazing city.And I know he gave his life there with a fierce joy, realising that theend of it, at least, was brave and useful.
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