The Spy Who Came In from the Rain

   The Spy Who Came in from the Rain

Suzanne Marsh

28 June 1863

It was almost sunrise, the dark pink sky overhead, it was going to be another hot day. He rode in silence, as he always did. He was near Fredrick, Maryland, when he descends into a valley, then rides toward the mountains. He halts his horse as he dismounts, he tethers the horse, it would not do to have the horse get lose. He climbs up the craggy mountain, the slate gray rocks are slippery, he knows if he is to observe movements of the Union Army, he must do so in silence. He hides behind a boulder, looking down into the camp. He observes flags of different divisions. He then notices the slouch black hats; his instincts tell him that the flags are the Army of the Potomac. How did they get here so quickly, the Union army never moved this quickly before. Suddenly he spots General John Reynolds, where are they headed? He thought maybe Carlisle barracks there. Somehow that did not seem reasonable, he counted more than the twenty flags it had to be at least two to three thousand men. He slipped out from his hiding place, behind the boulder. He the n made his way down the craggy mountain. He mounted his horse, he could not gallop the horse was tired, if he pushed it too hard, he would not have a mount. Once the horse was a bit rested, he would ride hard. He had to find General Longstreet, immediately, this news would not wait.

He wound his way through forest and mountain, he knew General Longstreet’s headquarters would be close to General Robert E. Lee’s. He rode on into the darkness, the rain began to fall hard. He hated thunderstorms, he afraid of lightening. Something inside of him kept pushing him, he had to find General Longstreet. He liked working for Longstreet, he paid in either gold or greenbacks, not worthless confederate script. Longstreet was a hard, stubborn man, he knew that from past encounters. Lee was very courtly, never had a bad word for anyone. He rode on he was becoming fatigued. He found himself quoting Shakespeare as he rode. He wanted to be on the stage, he had done Shakespeare. He thought about Hamlet, the melancholy Dane, the soliloquy: “to be or not to be, that is the question.” He decided he planned to be, back on stage before the end of the war. He had no intention of every being caught. He stopped long enough to water his horse, he picked up a newspaper, he glanced through it, he saw in large type: General George G. Meade to replace General Joseph Hooker. That would make an interesting tidbit to give to General Longstreet. He moved on, the rain once again began to come down, this harder than before. He comes upon tracks made by many horses, he rides toward Chambersburg, he thinks the tracks could belong to J.E.B Stuart and his calvary, he hopes that they would give him an escort to Longstreet’s headquarters, at least that way he won’t have to worry about being shot by a picket.

He smells smoke, he gravitates toward it. He rides slowly, a hand reaches out and grabs the bridle. He finds himself staring down the barrel of a musket. A heavy set, white bearded man quietly says:

“Halt, who goes there?” He glares at the man; he has no time for frivolities.

“I need to see General Longstreet now. I have important information he requires.”

The picket glared at him:

“I can take you to the General’s headquarters, if he you get someone to recognize you,

you can see the General, if not, I am afraid I will have to shoot you.”

He had no intention of getting himself shot or killed:

“Just take me to the General, NOW!”

The picket motioned him toward a small white building, with green doors. He waited patiently as the picket went to get a member of the General Longstreet’s staff, Colonel Moxley Sorrel, returned:

“You say you information?”

“Yes sir I got the location of the Union Army.”

“Just a moment, let me get General Longstreet, I am sure he would be very interested.”

Sorrel, dislikes spies especially this one. He taps on the door:

“General Longstreet, the spy is here, he claims to know the location of the entire Union Army.”

Longstreet sighed why do these people pick the middle of the night to tell me these things.

“Moxley, tell him I will be right there.”

Longstreet, comes out the door, cigar stuck in his mouth, he is a big stubborn man:

“Where you been? I paid you in gold a month ago.”

“General I been doin my job, I been scoutin, I know the location of the Union Army. They ain’t

more n mules kick away.”

Longstreet was already in a miserable mood:

“Where the hell is Stuart? No one apparently knows where he is.”

He stood there waiting to see what else Longstreet thought before he stated:

“He ridin someplace up north here, he ain’t made but a little trouble, I don’t know

where he is, I don’t care, I am doin my job.”

Longstreet was satisfied the man had seen something, but the whole union army, that simply did not make sense to him. Apparently, it did not make sense to the man standing there, they had never moved that quickly before. He eyed the cigar hungrily:

“Hey General you got any of that good Virginia tobacco? I sure would like one of them

cigars. I’m hungry too>”

Longstreet, waited for moment:

“Moxley, get him something to eat and a dry place to sleep, and a cigar. I am going to ride

over to General Lee’s headquarters.”

Sorrel was to say the least a bit surprised, they were going to take the word of an actor. That seemed very risky. Then he realized what Longstreet was implying, keep him here under guard until he returned.

Sorrel saluted, motioning the man to follow him. Longstreet mounted his large black horse, riding quickly toward Lee’s headquarters. Lee greeted him:

“What brings you out here this time of night Pete?”

“One of the spies I employed just came in, he says the Union Army is in Fredrick, Maryland.

I brought the maps, we need to get some troops into at least York, Pennsylvania.”

Lee, his dark eyes glowing with fight:

“We move on the word of a spy. General Longstreet. How can we be sure he is telling

the truth?”

Longstreet, hated to argue with the old man:

“We can’t afford not to.”

Longstreet pulled out the map as Lee stared:

“What is that town there? I don’t have my spectacles.”

Lee’s finger was on the small town of Gettysburg. Thus began the high-water mark of the Confederacy.

Several years later Moxley Sorrel attended a Shakespearean performance, he notices a small, nondescript man, the voice squeaks, Sorrel recognizes the spy, he remembers his name Harrison. He goes back state, they speak for a moment. That was the last anyone knew of Harrison; he was removed from Longstreet’s records.