res fc o^ PS 635 19 C908 1889 -pv 1 LOYAL MOUNTAINEERS: OR, THE GUERRILLA'S DOOM A WAR DRAMA, (AV THREE ACTS.) BY J. N. CULVER. RespeclfDlly Dedicated to tlie Grand Amy of tlie RepuDlic. REVISED EDITION. ST. ALBANS, VT. : WALLACE PRINTING COMPANY, 1889. LOYAL MOUNTAINEERS: OR, THE GUERRILLA'S DOOM A WAR DRAMA, {LV THREE ACTS.) BY I ^ T J. N. CULVER. ResDectfnlly Dedicated to tlie Grand Army of tlie RepDllc. REVISED EDITION ST. AL15AXS, VT. : 2^ 5 ^ 3 ^ WALLACE PRINTING COMPANY. /y 1889. f^ X* Entered according to act of Congress in the year 1889 By J. N. CULVER, In the Ofifice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. TMP92-008997 CAST OF" CHARACTERS. UNIONISTS. Mk M \kks, - - - - A Tennessee Farmer William mIrks, - - Son of Mr. Marks, in Union army. \Valter Greenwood, - - - " Union Spy. John Steel, ----- Union Soldier. Robert Davis, ' ' ,, P.^T O'DoHERTV, - - - ■ Sam Hannib.^l. - - - " ' Contraband. Coi BARKER, - - Commanding Union Regiment. Lieut. Green, - - - Adjutant " Alice Marks, - - - " Daughter of Mr. Marks. Clara Steel. - - - " Sister to F red Steel. WiDOU Powers, - " " " Tennessee Lady. Makv Powers, - - Widow Powers' Daughter- CONFEDERATES. Fred Steel, - - • " Chief of Guerillas Sam Smith, ------ Guenlla. J.\coB Kfi'KUACH, (Conscript,) ... Joe Blake, (Greenwood in disguise,) - - - " George M.^CK, ----- Rebel Guard. COSTUN^ES. Mr. Marks — Hunting. Wm. Marks — Private Soldier. Walter Green- wood — I St, Disguised as Guerrilla; 2d, Captain: 3d, Prison; 4th, Disguise; 5th, Captain. J.ohn Steel — Prison. Robert Davis — ist, Prison; 2d, Pri- vate; 3d, Prison; 4th, Private. P.\t O'Dohertv — Private. Sam Hannm- bal — ist, Plantation; 2d, Soldier. Col. Barker, Capt. Dunbar, Adju- tant, &c., equipped according to regulations. Alice Marks — ist Mourning; 2d, Travelling; 3d, Bridal. Clara Steele — ist, Mourning; 2d, Travelling. Widow Powers and Mary Pow- ers — Home. Fred Steel — ist. Red Flannel Shirt and Light Gray Pants; 2d, Light Gray Coat and Pants. Sam Smith, Joe Blake, and Jacob Kopfbach — Flannel Shirt and Gray Pants. Geo. Mack— Gray. Pistols, Revolvers, Dirks and Knives (no guns or swords,) for Guerrillas. 1 Table, 4 Chairs, for Home Scene. Basket of Work for Mrs Powers. Old Army Blanket for John Steel. Ammunition and Colors for Regiment. Can- dles. Basket of Crackers and Water Proof Cloak for Aunt Nancy. News- paper for Mary Powers. One package of large Envelopes and 6 Canteens. STAGE DIRECTIOrsIS. {Actor supposed to be on stage , facing audience .) Exits and Entrances. — R. means right ; L, left ; C, center at back , I E, 1st entrance ; 2 E, 2d efitrance ; 3 E, 3d entrance. Rel.vfive Positions ON Stage. — R, means right; L, left; C, center, R C, right of center ; L C, left of center. LOYAL MOUNTAINEERS: OR, THE GUERRILLA'S DOOM ACT I. Scene First. — Wood or Mountain Scene — Fred Steel and his Gangof Giiet- rilla's discovered Playing Cards," Smoking, and Drinking — "We Won't Go Home Till Morning." Fkkd Stekl. — Well, hoys, we must hurry up our talking; for you know I am off before light to-morrow morning. Jacoh Koi'FBACH. — Yah, Has ish so, but we fellers vants to drink your goot health pefore you goes. Fkkd Stekle. — Yes, boys, I am going to leave you; yet if I (ion't like it at Libl^y, I shall come back again. But, before we break up, I want you to elect a new Captain. I want you to put in a man who won't be afraid to hear a woman yell, either; for sometimes they have tried to bother us when we have been sort of looking over their houses. I have thought Sam would make a good one. '.Vhat do the rest of you think? All of the Guerrillas call for Sam Smith, Captain Smith, &c., &c. Sam Smith. — I don't know what to say, l)oys; I am no speech maker; but I didn't onc't think you would appint me Cajium; there is men here as has got more larnin' than I has, but, if you wants me, I'll sarve and I never will ask one on yer to go where I won't. All the Guerrillas e.xclaim: "Good, goodi Hurrah for Captain Sam." — All Cheer. Fked SiEKi.. — We have been together, boys, for over two years, and there is not a man here but what can count his stamps by the thousand; and, while we have been helping ourselves, we have been supporting the "Bonnie Blue Flag." I received a letter of commendation from Gen. John Morgan, today, with my Colonel's commissi )n. He says that our company has been the most successful of any under his command, and that he wishes he had more such men. So don't let a chance slip to strike a blow for Southern rights. To l)e sure, we have suffered — all l)rave soldiers must. We have lost many good men by these so-called "Loyal Mountaineers," who are nothing but cowards at best, and thanks be to Capt. Sam Smith's Kangers that the country is rid of some them. Jacob K. — Yah, if I ever get a glimds of dem Loyal Moun- taineers, mine Gott in himmel how I makes shoot at um. S.\:vi Smith. — Only one man now lives that I really dread, and that is Old Marks. I think I've seen him onc't, but don't know him. I seen an old man with long white hair and whis- kers, (^pointing to Walter Greenwood, who is in disguise,) jes' like Joe's, and if I had had my gun, I would have known, sure. Fred vSteel. — Sam, I don't want Old Marks killed. You Know we went to his house in the night, and got about ten thou- sand dollars in gold, put the old woman and Charlie out of the way, and I have Alice down to Widow Powers'. We burnt up the old man's house, and I guess on the whole he has got his pay for his Yankee talk. Sam Smith. — Yes, I know all that; and we thought the old man was dead, too; but here he has been prowling around like a hyena, and has murdered sixteen of our best boys. I think he ought ter be put out of the way. Fked Steel. — You are Captain now, and will do just as you choose after I am gone; but I wish we could take him prisoner — and then don't you see I could make him give his consent to my marrying Alice? Sam Smith. — There is somethin' in that. Colonel; and I will promise you that we will take him alive, if possible; but if I get sight on him, he's my meat, dead or alive. Jacob K. — Yell we's must get vay off from here pooty quick or we's won't make some honest greenbacks tonight. Fred Steel. — I know, Jacob, but I want to chat with you a little before I go, and we want to drink Captain Sam's health, too. You know this Yankee whiskey is tip-top. How that chap did bellow when I popped him over and took his team and bar- rel of whiskey. Jacob K. — Mine Gott what schnapps dat ish, vat a pedy there ish so leetle, petter pe zwie, drie forty parrels of it. Poys, dish ish your last night mit Colonel, so 1 says we'll all drink his goot health, den Captain Sam's goot health, den mine; make reaty. 7 Here ish to de Colonel who's nimo ish Steel, He goes away now, dat ish aus ge speil. (All drink.) Here ish to Capiun Sam Smit who leads us mit a fight, As we go though the Yankees houses in ter dead of night. (All drink.) Here ish to Missh Alice Marks vat de Colonel vants for frow, If her old tuyful daddy don't raise one pig row. (All drink.) Here ish to Jacob Kopfbach, dat ish me, 1 fights mit Sam Smit in East Tennessee. Kki.I) Steki.. — Nov,, l)oys, here is one for you. May you ever prove as true to your new Captain as you have to me. Since our company has been organized we have supported ourselves from the Yankee .Army. When we first started there were only six of us. Xow we have over one hundred. We have taken all our horses from the Yankee army, and nearly all we have came from them. (^en. Morgan writes me that there are twenty-three hundred men in the whole regiment, and all th.it he has ever had from the South was twentv-seven army saddles — his horses, clothing, arms and ammunition, having been taken from the 'S'ankees. Sam Smith. — Colonel, do you know where Old Marks is now ? FkkI) >rEKi.. — No, 1 can not tell, but 1 think he is over the other side of ihe mountain. I am going down to Widow Pow- ers' tonight to try and persua.ss the river in our new boat, as the bridges are all burnt? FkkI) Stekl. — \'e>, I told Frank that I should be there to- night, and he must have everything reaoy for me. C.en. Mor- 8 gan will have a horse for me on the other side. Xow, Captain, I have one request to make of you, and that is that you let Jacob go with me to Richmond. I will send hiai back again soon after I get there, and I would like to have you and some of the men go down to Widow Powers' with me. Sam Smith. — All right, Colonel, Jacob can go with you, and I will take some men and see you safe across the river. All Exit R, but Jacob. Jacob K. — Yah, I am going mit Colonel Steel to Richmond. Dash is all right. I fites mit Sam Smith, not pecause I vants to, put pecause I can't gits away. Mebby I don't petter stay here, mebby I gets away mit Colonel Steel and tiiids my brud- der in de "S'ankee army, den I goes and Hghts mit Siegel. Exit, R. Enter Old Marks, L. Marks. — Alone, alone, all, all alone 1 Two years ago I was happy — happy as any man in East Tennessee. How is all changed! Then I was rich — now I have nothing, not even a crust of bread ! Then I was happy with my family; I had honor among my fellow men I Why this change? All i^ecause I loved the Old Flag. When the cry of war arose, what was I to do? Should I see that flag under which I had lived and pros- pered trailed in the dust ! Should I see my country ruined,and her just laws destroyed? Nay; shouki I be a willing instru- ment in this work of vandalism? I saw but one course to pur- sue, and, though it has cost me dear, I thank (jod that he has given me strength to pursue it thus far. How fearful the cost of loyalty ! My house burned, my wife murdered, my eldest son hung, my youngest driven away, my daughter nowhere to be found, and myself beaten and left for dead ! But my time had not come. I took a solemn vow of vengeance, and sixteen guerrillas have fallen before my steady aim in atonement of my wrongs. The debt is not paid yet. I feel that 1 shall see my daughter soon. I hear that she is somewhere in this vicinity. [Crosses the stage.] I must try and Hnd out what that party of guerrillas over there are planning. I dare say they are trying to find me, or murder some Union man. [Goes and looks out at R.] I have been following you for three days, and you are one less than when you started. What ! Fred Steel a guerrilla? 'Twas you, then, who led the gang that murdered my wife and child. You who told me that you should never aid the South- ern cause. Yillian ! you, too, shall die the death of a coward and traitor; but not yet. My revenge is sure. Ha! he comes this way. I must conceal myself. [Hides.] Enter Fred Steel and two Guerrillas R. 3d E., and go out at L. 3d E. As soon as they pass ofTthe stage, enter Walter Greenwood R. 3d E., in disguise as a guerrilla. Mr. Marks sees him, and rises to shoot, but Greenwood makes motions to him not to. Advances to Marks, and takes oft his whiskers and hair. Mk. Marks. — What, Walter Green vvood? W'Ai.TKK G. — Yes, I am here. I have been here two or three weeks hunting for you, and I hardly know how I happened to see you now. We must talk fast, as the gang have camped near here, anut, .Miss Powers, you must be careful, for 1 'spec Fred Steel is comin'. Mrs. P. — (io out and tell him to come in, and then you go out to the oh; shed and wait for him. [Kxit Sim R., 3 E. Enter Robert Davis.] Mrs. p. — My dear boy, where have you come from? ^■(JU need not be afraid to tell, for we are all your friends. RoHKUT D.A\ls. Two weeks ago three of us got out of Salis- burv prison. The other two boys were caught and killed in my sight. I had climbed a tree just soon enough to save my life. Mrs. p. — Lheer up, my brave boy; you at last have f»mnd friends. Here vou are safe. We will soon find a way to help you to free(U)m and safety. R. 1). How your kind words cheer me. They are so difter- ent from what I have heard for the last six months. They give me new life and strength. Loud rap.s heard at door at u. Mrs. p. — Mary, show this soldier where to conceal himself, and then see who is at the door. Mary. — Come this way. [Mary and Rol>ert cri)ss to R. .Mary points out 3 E.] Turn to your right and follow the path until vou come to an old shed, where you will tind Sam. Stay there until we call you. Exit Robert Davis at R. Loud raps continued at door at L. Mar>- ()i>ens the door, when Fred Steel enters. Ekkd S. — (iood evening, ladies; I am quite late. M.VRV. — What brings you here at this time of night? Frkd S. — 1 have receivetl a commission as Colonel for my brave deeds on these mountains, and have l)een ordered to Richmond to take charge of the Yankee boarding house— what is better known as Libby Prison. .And as I had a l.ttle time, I thought I would come and see my dear Alice before I left, hop- ing she would like to go to Richmond with me as Mrs. Colonel Steel. .\LICK. — Ni.vi:r. Fred S. — Mrs. Powers, you and Mary can retire. I will keep guard over Alice until I call you. Mrs. Powers and Mary retire L. Fred S. — [Advancing toward Alice.] Alice, my dear, why look so scornfully? Be cheerful — come, come now, don't act so. You know 1 love you. [Takes hold of her arm.] Alice. — [Striking his hand away.] Unhand me, sir; your fingers are stained with my mother's blood. Fred S. — Alice, don't speak of that again — let it pass; you know I never intended to shoot your mother. Alice. — Why do you come to taunt me with your tales of love? You who murdered my mother and brother, and tried to murder my father. Fred S. — Alice I have often asked your forgiveness for the deeds of that dreadful night. Alice. — Fred Steel, I wish to ask you one question, and I want an honest answer. Why did you take such a cowardly part in this wicked Rebellion, going from house to house in the dead of night and murdering riefenceless people? Old men and women, and even innocent children, have died at the hands of your fiendish gang. Fred S. — Why ask me such questions? Did I not rid the country of nearly all the Yankee spies in this section. I would not harm a woman or a child, if they did not interfere with my busmess. Futhermore, I was promised a commission if I made way with these traitors. Honestly, Alice, I have often wished I had not taken the course I have; but it is now too late. Alice. — No, not too late; burn your rebel commission; go North ; put on a blue coat, and help crush the greatest and most wicked Rebellion the world ever saw. Fred vS. — What I give up a CoUmel's commission, and l)e a. private soldier? Alice. — Yes; and be a man. Fred S. — Never ! I yet will hold a commission still higher than Colonel. But I must not stop to talk with you; I am going to start for Richmond at once, and you are going with me. So make haste. Alice. — Fred Steel, I am not going with you. Fred S. — It will be useless to resist as I have a guard at the door, to help me if necessary. Alice. — For shame, Fred Steel ! to bring your pack of villians; 'tis enough that you show yourself here. Had you the whole Confederate army at your command, I would not go. Fred S. — [Advancing and seizing Alice by the arms.] Miss 13 Marks, you are in my power, and 1 will make you my wife, l>v fair means or foul. Mr. Marks enters cautiously from L., 3 E., advances to R., and seizes Steel and sends him to L. C. Ai.iCK. — [Rushing forward and embracing her father.] Father I Father ! Fkkd S. — Old man, I have come to make a wife of that girl, and am going to do it; if vou interfere vou are a dead man [Whistles.] Enter two guerrillas from R., 3 E., and seize Mr. Marks Hind him fast, hoys, and take him to camp. Do what you please \\ ith him. Marks. — I'Vcd .Steel. 1 am on your track. \'ou are doomed to die the death of a miserable, sneaking traitor. Fkkd .S. — [Pointing his revolver at Marks.] .Silence, you old fool, or Fll put a hole through you. .^LICK. — [Stepping in between Steel and her father.] Shoot I Shoot I if you dare, you villian. You are a coward; you dare not shoot. Stained with blood as your hands are, you dare not nmrder me. Injure one hair of my father's head, and you will not go from this house alive. FrkI) S. — Not quite so smart. \\>\i can't scare anyl)ody. [.\dvances.] Come, hurry up, the guard at the boat will think we are never coming. (.Advances and seizes Alice.) Come, boys, take the old man along. Ai.iCK. — Help I help! I can n(,)t, I will not go. Unhand me. villian. Enter Robert Davis and Sam at R.. 3 E., who at once seize the guard hold- ing Mr. Marks, disarm and drive them off the stage .ai R. Re-enter Sam, who points revolver at Fred Steel — Steel releases Alice. Alick. — Not yet, Sam, he is not tit to die. (Pointing to Fred .Steel.) (Jo, sir, your j^resence is loathsome. Exit Sam at R., 3 E. FkKl) S. — Who is this nigger and that escajicfl prisonor? .\:.I(K. — do, sir, and ask no questions. Frki) S — (Retiring slow ly.) Young lady you will i)e fear- fully sorry for this gross insult. You have defeated me, this time. I shall leave my Company in trusty hands, and they will deal with vou as you deserve. As for your old father there, he om Hof escape my vengeance — he must and shall yield to the will of Fred Steel's Rangers. He can not cross the river now, the bridges are all burned, and there is but one l)oat, and that 7i.A.M.— I's hurryin' fast as I can. Vou see, Massa, I don't want to found any dem grillas, cause we hain't got no time to stop and kilt 'em. Lightning flashes, and thunder heard, which very much frightens Sam. Rob't D. — What ails you, Sam, hurry up, we shall get wet if we don't look out. It is going to rain, and I am afraid we won't get to the i)oat and get that whisky into the guard before Mr. Marks comes. (Exit at R., i E.) Enter .Mr. Marks and Alice at L , i E.— Liglitning and thunder at intervals. Alick. — ihis is a dreadful night, father; but I am happy to think you are to he safe soon. Makk.s. — Ves, I rejoice to think that I shall soon breathe the air of freedom. Sam is a tru.sty boy, and I have no fear from him. .Vi.icii. — I have no fear from him; but 1 am fearful that we have l)een watched l)y the guerrillas. Mist! I can hear them now. Oh ! let us hurry. (E.\it at R., 3 E.) Enter guerrillas at L., i E. S.\.\i S.— I am sure I saw Old Marks and Alice come out of the house, and come this way. We must have Old Marks this very night, and that nigger, too. I just want to get hold of his black carcass. I 11 fix him. See! (.Vll look out at R.) There goes Old Marks and Alice ! They are going for our boat. Look down to the river. That nigger has unloosed the boat I Where i6 IS the guard ! They muse have killed him. Come on boys. ^All exit at R.) Shouts heard outside of "Shoot him, shoot the gal, and the nigger, if you can't take them alive." — One shot heard. — Scene rises showing Mr. Marks in boat crossing river. — He fires one shot and shouts, "Old Marks is safe!" — Alice enters at ist R. E., kneels, clasps her hands, exclaims: "Saved! Saved!" — Back scene rises showing Goddess of Liberty. — Tableaux — Saved. ACT II. Scene First. — Woods. — Soldiers on picket duty. — Pat O'Doherty, Sam Hannibal, Walter Greenwood, Mr. Marks, \\'illiam Marks, and others, — Song. — "Just Before the Battle." W.Ai.TKK (>. — ( orpDi-al, take the men and go out a little nearer the Rebel line, and should you see or hear anything that would lead you to think they intend to give us battle, report the same to me at once. P.vr. — Vis, L'urporal, fall in your min to onst, and Pat O'Do- herty will bring up the rare. I will be on the lookout that none ov um lag behind, and as sure as a Johnny spakes a loud word, rii be afther raportin' to Captain Grainwood. CoRi'OKAL. — Fall in, (iuard. Men all fall in except Mr. Marks and William Marks. .Sam H. — De Lord bress my soul, Massa (ireen\voo(i, is you gwine to hab a battle here? Walikk (i. — It looks so now, Sam; Init I thought you were anxinus to see us pitch into the rel)els. Sa.m. — Yes, Massa, an so I is; but can't I wait till de sun shines, it would be mighty dark seein' you shoot now. Pat. — Sam Hannibal, yes kin come along wid me, an I dont think ye nade be throbled wid fare while under me spishal pro- tecshin. SAM.-^^'ah, hah; dis yer chile ain't afeard to go wid you; you's a man after my own heart, and if de Rebble sojers come when we git dah, I guess dey will be sorry. Wai.ikk (i. — Yes, Sam, you go with Pat. I shall not need vou here. Now don't run or get frightened, but keep close to Pat. Corporal drills his squad a little, and marches them offat R., 3 E. M.\KKs. — Well, boys, here I am, free from the hands of Fred Steel's ban)mewhar. Massa (ireenwood tole me to keep close to Patrick O'Doherty until he wanted me, and now I mus found him. (Loudly calling ) Patrick!) 'Doherty, Pos' Xo. 15th amendment, double (juick, march. Enter Pat at R., 2 E., slowly, with coat very badly torn, and otherwise gen- erally demoralized, but does not see Sam at first. P.AT. — Am I Patrick ( >'l)ohirety entirely, or am I his ghost? Strange that the boys should run and lave me alone. What the devil do they think to run and lave me alone to right the whole guerrilla army, and Samuel Hannibal, too, he was scart and run, and even after Capum (irainwood towld him to keep dost to me. Just a mi'iute ago I thought I heard Patrick O'Doherty's name mintioned. I wonder what it could mane? I must look around a little and see if I can rind anv of the bovs. I am not 20 at all frightened, and can whip all the Ribels in a batch, if they will only come on. Goes and looks out at L., when he hears a dog bark or a pig squeal, which frightens him, and he leaps back on the stage. — All this time Sam is very much pleased to see the fun go on, but does not make a loud noise. Pat. — It must be a bloody guerrilla, and I must be afther get- ting out of this intirely, or I shall be down to l.ibby prison be- fore I want to go. He turns and starts to run, but is so near Sam that he hits him hard enough to knock both do\^n. Pat. — Why the divil didn't ye tell me that ye wanted me to ground arms, and not he afther executing your orders until afther yer had given 'em. Sam. — Lor' bress my soul, Pat, how easy we did parade rest. Pat. — Divil a bit ov rest did I get, but plenty of parade. Sam. — Patrick, what made you run off and leave me when Massa Greenwood tole you to stay wid me? Pat. — Capum (jrainwood didn't tell me to stay wid you. He towld you to stay wid me. Now why didn't you obey orders? If yes keep on disobeying orders in that way, Capum Cirain- wood will be afther rejucing you to the ranks of a private, and then yes will have to obey orders. But come, Samuel, we must hnd the Regiment. I don't see how I come to get astray. Sam. — Patrick, Massa Greenwood and Massa Marks are both prisoners. I helped Massa William to get away, but I could not help de other two. I was feared de grillas would come l)ack ; but I 'spect dey am done gone. Massa WiUiam feels dreffulbad because his fader am taken prisoner. Enter three guerrillas, who chase Sam and Pat around the stage. — Curtain arops. ACT II. Scene Third. — Libby Prison. — Prisoners seated in groups on the floor, closely watched by Rebel guard. Rob't D. — Well, Johnny, what do you think of the rumor that is going round among the boys. They say there is to be an exchange of prisoners very soon. If so, you will be one to be exchanged, as you have been here longer than most of us. Then you can see your dear sister once more. 21 John Stkkl. — No, No, Robert, I cann»)t l)elieve the rumor, for weeks and months that story has been our only hope, but now it is too late for me, ver> soon I shall be beyond the suffer- ings of this life and be with mother in that heavenly army and marchinjT under the protection of the flag whose every star is a star of glory. IJut I should dearly love to see dear sister Clara once nu)re,'and only know where brother Fred is. Then if 1 could see the glorious old stars and stripes once more it is all I ask. Rob't I). — Oh, Johnny, don't talk that way. This is the second time I have been in a rebel prison and I am not going to give up yet. Our boys have not forgotten us yet and art: do- ing all they can to get us out of here. I am going to get out of here and help take Richmond yet. Jt)HN S'lEEi,. — Robert, I wish I could be as cheerful as you are. l!ut here I have been for a long time; at first I was cheer- ful, and tried to have courage; but as the news of victory after victory for the Union army come to the ears of the Rebels, the harder they have been upon us, until nearly all that came here w ith me have starved to death, or been shot for some sligiit offence. Rkhki. (Ir.vRi), Oko. Mack. — (^Striking John.) Shut up yer head, you detestable Yankee, yer no need ter come ter war if yer hadn't wanted ter. John Steki.. — I know that, sir; but I woulrl not stay away when such as vou were engaged in trying to destroy the liberty our grandfathers fought foi. I have but a short time to live, l)ut with my dying breath will I rejoice that I have remained true to mv dear dead mother's last recjuest of loyalty to the glo- rious old flag. M.\KKS.— Brave boy; should you live to get out of this hell hole, vou will be proud to sav that, tempted by the devil as you were,'lovaltv triumphed, while A^ (pointing to Rebel guard,) taints the very earth with treason, and to his dying day can not forget that he has been a traitor to the old flag. W.Ai.TKK (i.— Boys, keep up good courage. We shall not stop here long, starved and al-)used as we are. These wretches can not keep us here always. There is a good time coming, and that soon. Rkh. Gk'). M.— ^■es, you-uns talk well, don't yer? But I reckon you-uns will have some o'yer pluck taken out of yer 'fore night, for we-un's new commander has come, and he won't stand none of ver Yankee slang. He's a goin* through the 22 boardin' house purty quick, and I rackon most of you-uns will sing a different song when you see him. Enter Fred Steel R., i E. Frkd S. — Hello, Yanks ! I reckon you are all glad to see me, and I suppose the guard told you I was coming. Xdw I waiit you all to behave yourselves, and I won't hurt you; but if you don't mind you will be sorry. I shall not have any canr'les burned in the night, as you might burn us all up, nor shall I have any reading going on, for I want you to keep thinking of your guilty crimes and what you are here for. [Looking to the Rel)el guards.] Now, guards, do your duty like men, and if vou see any of the Yanks disobey orders, either shoot 'em or let me know of it, and I will take care of them. [Looking to John Steel.] Here, you villain, what are you doing? Didn't I just give order not to have any reading going on. Give me that book. John S. — Please let me keep it; it won't do me any harm. It is the last gift of my dear mother who is dead. It is a Bible, sir, and I am sure there can be no harm in my reading it. Fred S. — Give me that book, you mudsill. John S. — Please let me keep it. I will not read it any more. I will keep it in my bosom, and no one shall see it. It has my name written in it by dear dead mother. She wrote it just as I started for the war, and told me always to keep it. So please don't take it away. I can not give it up. Fred Steel knocks John down, takes the Bible and throws it away. Fred S. — There, Yanks, now see if you can obey orders. Walter G. — Fred Steel, not content with murdering the loyal people of East Tennessee, you seek this prison pen and practice your hellish designs on the weakest of us. Fred S. — Who speaks my name? What! Walter (ireen- wood? Walter G. — Yes, \Yalter Greenwood speaks your vile name. Fred S. — How glad I am to see you. How is Miss Alice Marks? You don't see her very often now, do you. Had you the least pride of a man you never would have crossed my path and stolen her from me. I once loved that girl, now I hate her; and now I swear it, she shall be my wife out of pure re- venge. Walter (j. — Fred Steel, I care not for your taunting words. As for Miss Marks, I never talked to her of love, except of her love for the old flag, that same flag you swore to defend, but which you now trample in the dust. W^ith (iod's help I hope soon again to be under its protec.ion. 23 !-"ki:I) S. — Walter (jreenwO'>fi, you are in my power and in my w ay. It was (jnly a few weeks ago that I bid farewell to your frien-is in East Tennessee. And I told them should you happen here, I would use the greatest care that you do not trouble the Southern cause any more. So prepare yourself [drawing a re- volver,] for 1 am going to lilow your brains out. W.M.iKK (i. — Fred Steel, I thank (iod I am prepared to meet my Maker; but you are not the agent that will send my soul in- to eternity. Fked S. — [Raising his revolver and taking aim.] What, what do you say, you spy? Walter (i. — Fred Steel, you are a coward, and just as sure as you shoot, these starved men will tear you in pieces. We are human, and only ask to he treated as prisoners of war. We have borne our lot patiently, and have not been almsed beyond endurance until you stepped your hendish foot in here. Before we will submit to your outrages, there is not a man here l)ut will give his life in defence of his rights. Fked S. — (Greenwood, I acknowledge to being a little too hasty. I now announce that Walter Greenwood, the Union spy, will be shot at sunset to-morrow. Now, you Yanks, see if you can behave yourselves. I shall come and see you once every day, and I hope there won't anything happen to mar your hap- piness. As it is getting late you inust all retire, (iuards, keep good watch to-night, and to-morrow we will see some fun. M.\KK.s. — (io now, yougueirilla, you have done enough. You are not content with murdering my wife and child, but now seek the ruin of my only daughter. Old Marks is yet alive, so be- ware. If 1 (lie by your hands Clod will avenge my wrongs. FkeI) S. — Old Marks? How came you here? You thosght you had got out of my jiower when you stole my boat, didn't you? But fortune favors me at every step, and if you were en- gaged in a just cause, you never would have been so unfortun- ate. M.VRKs. — I am proud to say that I am fortunate, and that you are unfortunate in having such a black heart. I would not exchange places w ith you to-day. Fki:1) S. — C)ne more word out of your head, and I will blow your brains out. .Marks. — Fred Steel, I am prepared for that. You have done nothing else l>ut murder for more than two years. It would take a man a life time to record all your vile acts, and do them justice. Fred Steel draws a revolver and fires at Mr. Marks. — The ball only knocks Marks' cap off, but hits John Steel in the neck. 24 John S. — [Screaming and falling forward.] Oh! I'm shot I I'm shot ! Marks. — Murderer! Vou are not satisfied with taunts and abuses, but must take the life of your own brother, who has been ashamed to own you. First, you take his Bible away, and not content with that, deliberately shoot him — and your angel mother looking down on you. Go, sir, before I kill you. I will tear vou in pieces if you do not take your vile carcass out of my presence. (Advancing to front and center of stage where John Steel lies and lifting him partly up.) Johnny, Johnny, dear, dear, Johnny, have you got to die and leave us. John Steel, who has been raised from the floor, leans his head on Mr. Marks' bosom, who is behind John. — Walter Greenwood on the left. Fred Steel on the right near John. — Prisoners all gather around John. JoJiN S. — Don't talk so Mr. Marks, he is my own brother. He didn't mean to shoot me. Had I told him who I was he would have been kind to me. Please hold my head for me. It is getting dark and my head is dizzy. Fred S. — .Are you my brother John? Is mother dead? John S. — Yes, I am your brother; but very soon you will be alone. My strength is fast failing. Dear mother is dead, ^he died soon after we reached Boston. I enlisted at once on ar- riving in Boston, and soon after coming to the front I heard of her death. Her last request to you was to remain true to the old flag. Fred S. — It is too late now. I am a Colonel in the Confed- erate army, and if you had told me who you were when I first came in, I should have taken you out of here at once. I didn't mean to shoot you. I am sorry I did. John S. — Don't feel bad, brother. I shall soon be l^etter off. It was only an act of kind Providence to relieve me from my tortures. I should have lived but a few days. I will tell mother that you did not mean to shoot me, and that you are sorry. Come nearer, brother, I can not see you, it is so dark. Mo' her is happy, and wants me to come to her. I am coming, mother. Prisoners all point fingers in scorn at Fred Steel, who stands at R. of stage with folded arms. — Back scene rises showing angel with arms outstretch- ed toward John Steel. — Tableaux — Mustered out. 25 ACT II. Scene Foi'KTH. — Outside of Libby Prison — Jacob K. doing guard duty, walking in front of Prison. Jaojb K. — Val, I i.sh here in Richmond. I ish put here to keep ilat Yankee soldiers from getting avay. I vish I may hopen dat doors and Jet de po>Hl\.. — Yah, das ish so; we all jietter take sometings. [r)rinks.] Vou vellers petter stop dish talk and make some ar- rangements pout meeting mit dose gal. I'"ri:|) S. — ^'es, boys, we must tix that up right off, for it is al- most time she was here. JoK 15. — It won't do for us all to stay here. She may see us before we see her, and then she won't come. I don't think she will fall in love with us anyway. FkkI) S. — That's so, and I hardly know how to arrange it. All hands had better take something. [Drinks.] JoK li. — Sdine of the l)oys ought to be on the lookout for Yanks. Fkkd S. — 1 here are three gangs out now; but we had better have some boys down on the Knoxville pike — we saw some Yanks there today. .Sam, you take four or five of the boys, go down near the pike and stay there until I signal for you. Joe and I will stay here and take care of the gal. [Exit Sam and Jacob at R., 2 K.] Now Joe take something to keep your cour- age up. .'■•teel drinks, Joe refuses. — Steel begins to stagger as if drunk. Vkva) S. — Now we will hide behind these trees until she gets here. Then I w ill come out and make my business known. If she refuses, I will signal you, and you can rush out behind her, stop her mouth and then we can manage her as we please. Exit all at F., 3 E. — Enter Alice at L., 2 E. .Vi.iCK. — This must be the place. No one here — I am not late, (an it be possible that I am deceived? I did not like the looks of those men dow n by the pike, and I am afraid there is foul ])lay intended. They did not see me, however, and do not know I am here. What shall I do? I dare not try to go back to- night, it is so far. I dare not cry for help, for fear of guerrillas Why did he not come as he said he would? Enter Fred Steel at R., 3 E, advances cautiously behind Alice. She contin- ues talking. If he had wanted to see me, why didn't he come to Knoxville? He knew I was there, I have written him often. Oh, what shall 1 do? Why is he not here? I-RKI) S. — My dear, I am here ready to protect you. .\I.ICK. — Fred Steel, you here? and have I been led from home by y(jur fiendish plottings? Lost, lost I just as I was ai)out to 34 see my vision of free lorn realized, you cross my path to ruin all. Why do you torment me mure? Are you not human, or have you lost all l^ut the form of man? Leave me; the very sight of you is loathsome. Your foul breath is tilled with rum and trea- son. Go, sir, I say, before I stain my hands with blood. Fred S. — Alice, this is the only way I could manage to meet you. I have made up my mind to marry you. Once more I ask you, will you be my wife? Alice. — Vou know better than to ask me such a question. How dare you talk so to me? Fred S. — Vou talk very foolish, Miss Alice. I have a com- pany of brave boys near by who will assist me if necessary. Alice. — Brave man ! Forge a letter, lead me far away from friends, and then tell me that you have a company of men to make me consent to marry you. Fred Steel, if you had the whole Rebel army at your command, I would not i:onsent. [Fred Steel advances.] Uon't you come near me, you drunken coward. I have a pistol, and can use it if necessary. I would shoot you as soon as I would a snake if it were not for shedding human blood. Fred S. — Come, come, Alice, don't talk so; I don't want to hurt you. Alice. — Fred Steel, you need not try to frighten me, I am not at all afraid of you nor your whole gang. Fred S. — Young lady, I have fooled with you long enough. Whistles — Joe Blake enters at R., 3 E., and seizes Alice's arms. — Alice makes resistance. Free S. — Now, Miss Marks, we'll see whether you'll marry me or not. Alice. — Merciful heaven I is it possible that you will stoop to such baseness? But why not? you murdered my mother, and even took the life of your own brother. Yet, Fred Steel, I never will marry you. Fred S. — Got lots of grit, haven't you? Hope you will feel better by and by. Alice. — Oh! that fatal letter; why was I so deceived? Oh, God! what have I done that I should suffer so? Why perse- cute me more? Let me die rather than fall into the power of such a base man. Fred S. — Nhut up your head, young lady, or I will send you after your mother. Alice. — Do, for mercy sake, shoot me, and not torment me more. Enter two guerrillas at R., 2 E.,\vith Mr. Marks a prisoner. 35 A[JCK. — Father, Father! save me. F'kki) S. — Clood, good ! now I can carry out my revenge. Marks — Once more you have me in your pt)\ver; once na)re you are sure of my lilood. But there is a (lod in heaven, and he will not see you j^rosper. Let me go to my daughter. Fi S. — Shut up, or I will lix you both. Enter Clara Steele at L., i E. Clara. — Oh, Fred I my brother, you here, and engaged in such work? Don't injure them. If you only knew how kind .Mice has been to me since mother died, you would not. ^ Fkkh S. — How came you here? This is no place for you. Ci.AKA. — I came with Alice, to bear her company. Fki i. S.— You had better go out by that house [pointing,] and Slav a few moments; I will come and see you soon. 36 Clara. — Please let me stay with Alice; she is my best friend. Fred S. — Go out there and stay, I tell you. [Whistles and enter Sam Smith at R.J Sam, go with my sister out by that house, and stay till I come. [Exit Sam with Clira, she crying ] Now, Old Marks, if you have anything to say, hurry up, [Points revolver at Marks.] Joe K. — (Releasing Alice and rushing up to Fred Steel and knocking revolver out of his hnad.) Fred Steel, you dare not murder that man. (Pulling off false whiskers and hair.) Fred S. — What, Walter Greenwood, the Union spy. Traitor in disguise, you too, shall die. Steel tries to get hold of his dirk, but Greenwood seizes his arm; they have a desperate scuffle, and finally Greenwood is overpowered and thrown down at R. — Steel holds him by the throat with his left hand, draws his dirk with his right, and holds it high above his head as if to stirke. Fred S. — Walter Greenwood, once we were friends, but when you crossed my path, our friendship was at an end. Filled with revenge, I at first wreaked my vengeance on 01 1 Marks and his family. I have longed to kill you, and n;nv my revenge is near completion. Soon you will be food for dogs, an*! Old Marks and Alice shall follow you. I swear it I Alice draws a pistol and shoots Steel, then rushes to her father and embraces him. — Greenwood rises to his feet and comes to Alice with outstretched arms. Walter G. — AHce, forgive me, I wrote that letter to induce Fred Steel and his villains to come here. They are all captured now, and you are only surrounded by friends. (Scene may end here.) Steel staggers to his feet. — Blood streak seen on Steel's forehead. Freu S.— Come on, boys, come on; here is Old Marks' house; kill him; no, let him be; see the old woman; she has got blood on her face; she is coming this way; go back, don't, don't touch me; see, your blood is on my hands. Oh, kill those snakes, kill them; I can't do anything, my hands are slimy with blood; don't let John come any nearer, he wants to kill me. See the snakes there; he is going to jump; don't desert me boys; why don't you help me? Go back, old woman, you have followed me long enough, let me l)e. Oh, where can I go? I can't get away; see, the demons are about me; they arc trying to carry me off; don't touch me. l>oys, boys, why don't you help, help, help? Go away; see Satan has got me by the throat; take him off, get the blood off my hands. (Falls heavily.) Tableaux — Death to slavery. 37 ACT III. Scene Fourth. — Camp Scene. (.'()!,. Bakkkr. — ^The time has ariived, buys, when you are to he free of the United States service, and this is our last day in camp. So enjoy yourselves as best you can; we are not at the front, and no fear of a surprise. P.vr O'D. — Faith, Colonel, and why didn't yes tell me that two years ago. Col. 11 — A good deal has been accomplished in that time, Patrick. We could not spare a man then, so have a good time now. We shall soon get our discharge papers, and in the morn- ing we will be off for home. Jacob K. — Dash ish very goot, I gets my discharge from the army of the United States. I don't get my discharge from Sam Smit. I tinks I helps the Union poys petter ven I vas mit the South, l)ut I don't likes the name. Sa.m Hannibai,. — (iuess I won't go home; dey don't want to see me down to Knoxville. I think I will stay S^orf. I helped quelch dis heah 'bellion, and I's free now, and I think I had i)etter stay free. Pat. — How the divil are ye a going to git a livin' up here? ^'e ijetther go l)ack. Sam. — How I gwine to lib up heah? Why I's gwine to eat, mostly. How you get a libin'. Pat. — Why work man, and earn money. Sam. — I'd ruver run for de Congress, den I can cat and not work. Jacob K. — Yah, vou runs fast enough to catch das Congress or anything else mit two iegs on him. Sam. — I runs fast enough to kotch you, yuu big sour krout you. ^'ou hain't been in this year army long nufftoput in your lip, so you dry up. Kor.'r I). — There I'at, yun and Jacob let Sam be, I want to see him dance a little or sing a song. All the hoys say, "Yes, Sam, dance, we want to see you dance once more." Sam dances or sings. Rob't I). — There Patrick, don't y<>u wish you could do that? Pai". — Faith and I can; but do ye think I'd stoop so low as to dance for private soldiers? Rob't I). — Do something, Patrick, either sing a song, dance (jr do something to keep up with .Sam. Pat sings, dances or makes a speech. Pat. — Bate ^hat if ye can, and then I will try again. All the soldiers say "Good, good, give us some more 38 Jacob K. — Veil, if all you vellers do so, I show you some tings. (Sings or dances.) Adjutant G. — Colonel, I should think Marks and Green- wood would be back soon. Vou know the Adjutant Cieneral said the discharges were all made out ready for the regiment. Col. B. — I was thinking of that, Adjutant, and they must be here soon. But I suppose Greenwood had to step in and see Miss Marks a few minutes. You know he has been here only a week, and hasn't seen her more than rifty or sixty times. l>ut Greenwitod has been a faithful soldier, and I think it was a very wise idea to have Miss Marks come North. .\djutant G. — Walter Greenwood is every inch a soldier. I love him as a brother, and I must confess. Colonel, that it is hard for me to part with him. But to-night is our last, and I wish he would come, for I want to talk with him. Wy the way. Colonel, did you know that Walter was going to marry Miss Marks as soon as he is mustered out? Col. B. — Yes, Adjutant, and I was in hopes he would con- clude to be married today, so we could attend the wedding. Enter Walter Greenwood and Mr. Marks at L., 3 E. Walter G. — Colonel, I am a little late, but I believe a satis- factorv explanation can be given. Mr. Marks went with me tu the Adjutant Cieneral's office, and you know I always like to tell big stories, so I told him about Mr. Marks' adventures dur- ing the war, giving him a detailed account of what he had done, what he had suffered, what he had lost; how his family had been murdered — all about it. The General asked us to wait a few minutes, when he gave Mr. Marks a beautiful letter of commen- dation. I tell you, Colonel, it paid for wailing. Col. B. — Yes, Greenwood, you are entirely excusable. The (ieneral has only done Mr. Marks justice; he deserves it all. Walter G. — Colonel, I will return soon. (Exit at L., 3 E.) Marks. — Colonel, I ask for no words of praise. If 1 have been of any help in crushing this rebellion. I shall receive my reward day by day. Colonel, here are the discharge papers. (Hands Colonel a package.) Col. B. — Thanks, Mr. Marks; I almost hate to take them, for they are the instruments which will sever our band and sep- arate us for life. We shall see each other, but never again be united as a regiment. Adjutant, please give these to the men. Adjutant takes papers and gives each man an envelope. Sam. — Massa Adjtint, hab you done gone forgot all about dis chile? I tink I might have a paper too. Adj't. — Sam, you are not an enlisted soldier, although you have been faithful to every trust, and Mr. Marks tells me that 39 you were of great service to him in East Tennessee. You have much to feel proud of. Sam, you are now free. You will never he a slave any more. .Ml the money you now earn is your own, and you have no master to take it away from you. Sam. — Massa Adjcint, den I can earn money and buy farder and mudder from ole Massa Brown. Adj't. — Sam, your father and mother are free. Every slave in the South is free, and can now enjoy the same rights their masters do. Sa.\i. — I golly, is dat so, Massa Adjtint, every slave in de Souf free, den who am I? I used to he Mr. Samuel Hannibal Napo- leon Bonaparte Julius Cresar Brown, Esq., but now I done gone loss my maiden name — who is I?. Jacob K. — MineC^ott in himmel, vat one dundering long name dish nigger has got. I bes longer dan de drack te mud on his heel makes. Adj't — That is rather a difficult question, Sam, and I think the best thing for you to do is to give up part of that name, and call yourself hereafter, Mr. .Samuel Urown. Sam. — Massa, how can I call myself brown when I's black? Adj't. — ( ), that is your name that is all. P.VT. — Samuel, would yes be afther torminting the life out of the .\djitint? Didn't I tell yes a long time ago that yes was free? and I was in for the war? Now I have got my character in black and white,showing that the colored troops is all free entirely. Jacob K. — Dash ish all right, Sam; you just go home mit me and eats two dree hundred kegs lager peer and drinks whole lots switzer kase und schwatz bread, unt pe one man vas pig shust like me. Pa r. — And Dutchy has got his character too, which shows that the Governmint don't show no difterence twixt a white man, a Dutchman and a nagur. Marks. — Colonel, 1 have one more request to make of you. We are now citizens, but I feel that we are under your com- mand until we break camp. Coi.. I'>. — .\ny reasonable rec|uest of yours shall be granted, if in my power. M.VRKs. — Colonel, I have been with your regiment only a part of its term of service, but I have learned to love every man in it. iiy a kind providence your regiment was instrumental in delivering my only daughter from the jaws of the secession ser- pent, also in saving my life. Capt. Greenwood has made an ar- rangement with my daughter during the past week which will soon terminate in their marriage. My request, Colonel, is that they be married here in camp. 40 Col. B. — The very desire of my heart, my dear sir. I have not seen Miss Alice since the night she was rescued from the guer- rillas, and never had the pleasure of her acquaintance. Marks. — I will at once go and see her, and, if I can persuade her to come, I shall soon return. (Exit at I,., 3 E.) Col. B. — Boys, while Mr. Marks is away, let us have one more good old army song. One or more army songs here sung by the soldiers. — After the singing, Col- onel gives command, "Attention." — Enter Marks, Walter G. and Alice, L.,2E. Col. B. — Carry arms; present arms; carry arms; order arms. Mark-S. — Officers and men, please allow me to introduce my daughter, Alice. .Colonel salutes Miss Marks. — Soldiers salute with right hand. Col. B. — Comrades, we are about to separate and return to our homes. 1 here we shall tind happy friends to meet us. Once more we are to engage in the pursuits of civil life. We are com- paratively few of the brave boys who first went to the front. Where are the rest? Some sleeping their last sleep on .South- ern soil where they fell in battle; others are sleeping beneath the very shadow of the prison pens w here they have died by inches; some have returned home maimed for life, anrl others have died of disease. We have mut h for \\hich to be thankful, and as we return to our homes let us return thanks that "no bugle at to-morrow's dawn shall awaken us to a reveille of blood. MARK.S. — Comrades. I have much that I wish to say, but I will not take up your time. I havt^ lived to see this happy day; lived to see my children safe from the very jaws of death; lived to see the North and South again united. (Takes .Alice's and Greenwood's hands.) Walter Greenwood, I freel> give you my daughter's hand. Be true and faithful to her; and as the North and South have been united by fire and blood, so may you be united by the tire of love and affection, constantly thinking of Him who gave His blood for us all, and who prt)claimed to the whole world: "Peace on earth; good-will toward man." Alice. — Oncers and soldiers, I can only thank you for your timely help to me on that dreadful night when I was about to suffer even worse than death. You have all suffered much in this terrible rebellion; but don't think all the people South were traitors to the dear old flag, which now so proudly floats over a leunited country. Far from it; many, very many have died l)e- cause of their loyalty ; and as you return to your homes carry with you sympathy for them all, and remember with pride the Loyal Mountaineers of East Tennessee ! Tableaux — "Union of Hearts and Union of Hands." — Curtain. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 102 878 2