Chapter IV

Ben as a Spy in both the Union and Confederate Armies--The Buried
Treasure--How he Fooled the Captain--At Port Royal and
Newberne--Bounty-Jumping.

As already stated, Ben, on his return from the South, made his way to Albany. The work of enlisting soldiers for the war was at this time under full headway. Hogan was by no means ambitious to win fame on the field of battle, but he saw a good chance to make money by going South, and he accordingly went.

On board the "America" he sailed for Port Royal, S. C. The vessel was wrecked, but by lashing himself to the mast, Ben escaped. Arrived at Port Royal, he informed the commander of the Union troops stationed there that he would act as a private spy, and this offer was promptly accepted. Immediately after he set out for Charleston, held a personal interview with a certain General, and under that leader's direction he assumed the character of a spy for the Confederate forces. It will thus be seen that Ben was pledged to give each side all the information he could gather concerning the other. But it may be added that he did not perform this duty conscientiously.

All this time he was working on board the steamer, and by laying in a large stock of quinine, tobacco, etc., which he disposed of at an immense profit, he cleared something like $18,000.

A snobbish sort of fellow visited the steamer one day with a plentiful supply of choice wines and cigars, with which he expected to get into the good graces of the officers; but Ben seized the opportunity to confiscate the liquid treasure, and in place of wine, the high-toned visitor found that his bottles were filled with soapy water.

A tragic incident occurred shortly afterward. The mate of the vessel quarreled with Ben, and while the latter was lying in his berth, crept in upon him, dagger in hand, with the avowed purpose of taking his life. Had it not been for the timely warning of a companion, the hero of this narrative would certainly have ended his career then and there. As it was, however, Hogan was prepared for the assault, warded off the blow intended for his heart, and shot the mate on the spot. The bullet did its work so well that the man lay at the point of death for days.

Leaving the steamer, Ben found himself in Charleston, ready for anything which might turn up. His inventive brain conceived the idea of running the steamer "Planter" into Union waters, and securing whatever prize-money he could. To carry out this bold plan he secured the services of three negroes, to whom he told glowing stories of the money and fame they would win if they succeeded in the enterprise.

"Why," said Ben, "if you steal this steamer and get it up North you'll be such big boys that they'll put you into Barnum's museum as curiosities!"

This was enough to persuade the darkies to undertake anything, and they actually succeeded in running away with the "Planter." But they never got any prize-money, nor did Barnum offer them an opening in his museum.

We next find Hogan assigned to spy duty at Blufftown, by Gen. Hunter. Scouting about the country he learned from a negro that a chest containing watches, jewels, and money was hidden under the cellar of a house which had been deserted. This information was enough to put Ben to work in short order, digging for the treasure. While thus engaged he heard the sound of horses' hoofs approaching. Making his way out of the house, he found that the dreaded Black Cavalry was upon him. He dashed through the swamps and underbrush, closely pursued by the horsemen, who discharged their revolvers at him in quick succession. None of the bullets took effect, however, and the cavalrymen could not follow through the stubble and underbrush. Ben reached the troops who had been sent out with him, gave the alarm, and all got back to the steamer in safety.

Not satisfied with this experience, Ben returned to the deserted house next day, only to find that the treasure had been removed, and to behold the negro who had given him the information hanging dead to a tree.

Ben's return North from Port Royal was attended by an interesting adventure. His reputation had spread abroad as a dangerous man. Many crimes were laid to his door which he had never committed. The mere mention of his name caused people to shudder. As a result of all this, he found himself shut off from the privilege of sailing on the "Burnside," as he had anticipated doing. He was on board the steamer just as she was about to sail, when it became known that he was Ben Hogan.

The captain at once told him that he could not make the passage on that boat.

"This man?" the crew shouted. "Sail with him? Why, he's a pirate, a cut-throat, a murderer! He'll kill us all! He's Ben Hogan!"

This last assertion climaxed it all; and in spite of threats and entreaties, Ben was forced to disembark. But he was not discouraged--not at all--and going to Gen. Fuller, he secured a passport.

The "Burnside" had no more than fairly got under way when those on board saw a man swinging his arms wildly and heard him shout:

"Mail! mail! I've got the mail!"

As the captain was expecting the mail, he could do nothing but wait until the man on the bank had launched out for the steamer, which he accordingly did. The stranger, who was supposed to bring with him the mail, was drawn up over the side of the "Burnside," when, to his consternation, the captain discovered that he was none other than Ben Hogan!

"What do you mean?" he cried angrily. "Haven't I told you that you can't sail on this vessel?"

"Don't trouble yourself," said Ben quietly. "I sail on whatever vessel I want to; just steam ahead, and keep cool."

When the "Burnside" ran into Newberne, Ben was taken before the Provost Marshal; but, to the amazement of his accusers, that official said:

"This man has more power than I have. You had better make peace with him, for if he says you may go, you may; and if he says you can't, why you can't!"

After this startling announcement, Ben's enemies concluded that it would be wise to hold their peace. He made the rest of the voyage to Boston on the "Burnside."

Some time after this occurrence, Ben happened to run across the old captain in New York. He professed to be overjoyed at the meeting, and invited him to go to the nearest saloon, where they drank to one another's health with great cordiality. The captain was a little man with an odd, weazen face, and full of eccentricities. He wore, on this particular occasion, an old-fashioned swallow-tail coat which must have seen a good many years of service. Ben made up his mind to have a little sport at his companion's expense, and so, getting some lampblack in the saloon, he smeared it over his hands, and then stepping up to the captain, exclaimed:

"By Jove, you've grown fat since I saw you last!"

As he spoke, he rubbed his hands over the Captain's face, leaving enough of the lampblack to make him look ridiculous. Then, as they stood taking a final drink at the bar, Ben dextrously slipped his hand behind him and cut off one of the tails of that wonderful coat.

"Let's take a walk up Broadway," suggested Hogan.

The captain at once agreed, and arm-in-arm the two started through the streets.

Wholly unconscious of the absurdity of his appearance the captain couldn't make out what all the people were laughing at. But, remembering that his face was smeared with daubs of lampblack and that his coat was minus one of its tails, the reader will perhaps appreciate the cause of the merriment. Ben gave the wink to all the policemen they met, assured the captain that the people were not laughing at him, and thus the two traveled Broadway from Cortlandt street to Union Square. It was a richer spectacle than one is apt to see every day.

After his return from Port Royal, Ben remained around New York for about a month, and then sailed for Newberne, N. C., on the "Cosmopolitan." He first made himself conspicuous in that town by giving a trapeze performance at the top of the ship's mast, which attracted a big crowd, and which set the inhabitants at once to talking about Ben Hogan. Soon afterward he was introduced to Gen. Foster, who gave him the position of steward on the "Cosmopolitan." Here Ben had the handling of all the wines and cigars, together with a chance to make a fat stake--which he did not miss. As it was against the rules to sell any liquor to the men on board, Ben hit upon the following plan for dispensing cordials: Into a barrel he poured a pail of water, with some lemons, and then filled it up with whiskey. This appetizing concoction he sold at the rate of ten dollars a canteen--which afforded a pretty comfortable profit. Before very long, however, it was discovered that the men on board had procured liquor in some way, and inquiries were set on foot to discover how. It came out, of course; but while Ben was pouring out the contents of the canteens, an assistant was filling them up again, so that the crew did not suffer for drink.

As the "Cosmopolitan" was passing Little Washington her pilot-house was blown off by the enemy's shots. Ben was called up to take the wheel, and finding that the captain was not willing to stand by him in that perilous position, he turned the boat square around and headed her the other way. During this time he had saved about eleven thousand dollars in greenbacks and Confederate money. With this sum in his possession he was taken sick at Newberne, and there placed under the care of a physician who proved himself a villain. In one of his doses which he administered to Ben he placed poison, expecting to get rid of his patient in short order. An old negro woman, however, told Ben what he had taken, and by the prompt administration of powerful antidotes his life was saved. As soon as he had sufficiently recovered to leave his bed, Ben swore that he would have this doctor's life. Meeting him shortly after on the street, he stopped him and said:

"You gave me poison, and do you know what I am going to do to you?"

"No," faltered the man of pills, turning deathly pale.

"I am going to kill you!" was the laconic reply.

So saying, Ben drew his revolver and fired. But not wishing to take his life, the ball missed its mark, and entered the doctor's leg instead of heart. The wound, however, was serious enough to necessitate the amputation of the limb--and so it cost him a leg to administer that dose of poison.

Not long after this adventure, Ben returned to New York. He was again ready to make a raise in whatever manner might present itself. He fell in with a choice gang of spirits, who had concocted to go into the bounty-jumping business, in the following way: Forty men pooled in ten dollars apiece at a certain smart saloon, then on the corner of Houston and Crosby streets, with the understanding that whoever succeeded first in jumping his bounty and reaching New York, should have the entire pile. The enlisting was to be done in Massachusetts. The crowd set forth, Ben agreeing to follow, and it is safe to say that a harder lot never struck the soil of the Old Bay State.

Nearly all enlisted, according to agreement, received their bounties, and then set to work to get away as best they might. Ben first endeavored to get on good terms with the officers by showing them his skill with the gloves, and even sent on for dumb-bells and clubs; but this game he very soon found wouldn't work. The party, which came to be known as "The Forty Thieves," were taken on to Boston under a guard equaling their own numbers--that is, one regular to each of the volunteers. No opportunity for escape offered itself on the journey, and it was not until the troops reached New York that Ben saw his way clear for leaving the service. Some of the men had jumped from the boat and taken their chances of being hit by the bullets. Hogan succeeded in eluding the guard upon their arrival in New York, and set out for a friend's, to learn whether he had won the pool. He wore a red shirt, no coat nor vest, and nothing but the blue trowsers to stamp him as a volunteer.

As he was passing through the streets a policeman stopped him and took him into custody. Ben walked along quietly for several blocks, and after offering the "cop" three hundred dollars for his freedom, which offer was refused, he suddenly "gave him the foot" as they were passing a basement and sent him spinning through the door. He then took to his heels, but a general outcry was raised, and he was captured. The policemen took him to headquarters, where he told the justice that he was a fireman and had never seen the inside of an enlisting-office. The justice rebuked the officer for arresting a man without cause, but committed him to the keeping of the provost-marshal until it should be ascertained whether he was a volunteer or not.

The provost-marshal's office was at the corner of Elm and Broome streets, and Ben, on the third night, succeeded in cutting his way through the bars. A too-officious policeman undertook to arrest him after he had reached the street, but Ben knocked him down at a blow, and passed on without further molestation.

That, for the time, ended our hero's war experience. He had not figured conspicuously in any of the famous battles, but he had had a pretty lively time of it, and it occurred to him that New York was not, all things considered, the safest place for him to remain in longer. Like a good many other enterprising gentlemen in those days, Canada seemed to him the most inviting spot on the globe; and to Canada accordingly Ben made his way.

Of his experiences in the Dominion, which, though brief, were certainly racy, another chapter will treat.