Chapter V: Gudge Riley the First
Gudge Riley was a simple man. All he wanted in life was to take care of his family. Provide a good home for his wife, three daughters, and 6-month-old son, Gudge Jr. He didn’t want any trouble. He certainly never wanted to cause trouble. He preferred to live a quiet life on his farm. The land his grandfather had bought after arriving from Ireland and passed down to Gudge’s father who passed it down to him. He hoped to pass it down to Gudge Jr someday. Someday far down the road. So far down the road that he never articulated that hope, it was just in his heart. The last thing he wanted was to be part of the war that was tearing the country apart.
He didn’t want to be a part of it but he couldn’t help seeing what was going on. His state was a Union state but it was also a border state. As such there was a little southward jog in the state boundary right where his homestead was that dipped just to the south of confederate towns on the east and west in the neighboring state. It was a tiny little salient and his farm was the only one in the predicament. Mind you, it only became a predicament when the war started. Up until then, Gudge and his family didn’t really pay that much attention to the border. The nearest town to his farm for much needed supplies was just across the border into the neighboring Confederate state. So, while his state with the bigger towns and Union influence were miles and miles away fighting for the north, his nearest neighbors were loyal to the south.
You can see why he wanted to live a quiet life and not be involved in the war. Inwardly, he was loyal to the north but he was also sympathetic to his southern neighbors.
All that changed one day when he went into town to pick up some monthly supplies. Martin Gregory, the store owner, was waiting for him.
“Hot one today, isn’t it?” Gudge said when he walked into the store. He dabbed the sweat off his forehead with the scarf around his neck.
“Looks like you’re picking up some equipment for harvesting,” Martin drawled.
Gudge didn’t care much for Martin. He thought the older gentleman was always plotting some plan to get rich instead of working honestly for his keep. Gudge nodded his head once and was still trying to decide how to respond when Martin continued.
“Most folks around here have had a tough summer. What with the war and then add the drought to all that. Well, it’s been downright unbearable for a lot of folks in these parts.”
Always stating the obvious. Gudge nodded his head again.
“What would you say if I told you I could help you and your family out this winter?” Martin asked. Even though he wasn’t looking at him Gudge could feel Martin’s stare.
Gudge knew Martin’s tactics. It was obvious Martin wanted something from him so he went straight for Gudge’s vulnerable spot. Martin knew Gudge would do anything for his family. Later, Gudge wished he would have kept shopping and ignored Martin but he didn’t. He stopped, turned to Martin and asked, “How?” his voice came out hoarse.
Martin smiled. “Just a simple task,” his voice was as smooth as that traveling preacher that came through the area every summer. “That’s all. Just need you to deliver a letter to Richmond. A week-long trip. Two weeks round trip. That’s it. You’ve made that trip before, I believe?”
“A long time ago. Before the war,” Gudge said quietly. He was doing the calculations in his head. A two-week trip to help his family out for the whole winter? But how did Martin know about his trip to Richmond years ago?
“Before the war,” Martin repeated and smiled. “This won’t be much different. Just a couple of weeks down and back. Two weeks and your family will be set for the whole winter.”
Gudge didn’t respond. He hated that he bit the bait. Now he just waited for Martin to reel him in.
“They say, it’s gonna be a harsh one. This winter that is,” Martin could tell he had Gudge where he wanted. He opened a newspaper on the counter and started reading it.
Gudge nodded. That had been the general consensus.
“One little task. Just a round trip.” Martin said without looking up from the paper.
“Two weeks?” Gudge asked.
“Two weeks,” Martin answered.
“Just deliver a letter?” Gudge continued.
“A measly little letter,” Martin said.
“Where?” Gudge asked slowly.
“Richmond,” Martin answered with a smile. “Deliver it to President Davis himself.” If he expected Gudge to be impressed with the recipient he miscalculated his audience.
Gudge knew that during wartime nothing was a measly little letter. Certainly not one delivered to the Confederate capital and for the Confederate president. President. But as far as he knew, none of the Union’s military was anywhere near the route he would take. That would be a bit bold if there was Union presence in or near the Confederate capital, would it not? How could the military get there and not be detected?
Down and back. Down and back in two weeks and his family would be set for the whole winter. How could he refuse? In his gut he knew he should refuse but the offer was too tempting. The reward too much of a Godsend really.
He never told his wife the precise details of the trip. She would have been upset to discover his mission was for the south. Her people lived in the north and two of her brothers served in the Union army. So, all he told her when she asked is “I’m delivering a letter to the president.” By keeping it vague he let her think Lincoln with a destination of Washington instead of Davis and Richmond. He didn’t like deceiving her and had never done such a thing before. But he justified it was for her so one lie, this one time was acceptable.
That is what she believed when she told her sewing circle that her husband had business in Washington. He instructed her not to tell anyone but she just couldn’t help it. She thought if she was discreet enough no one would know the details. But discretion was not her forte. It was unfortunate and unknown to her that in her sewing circle happened to be someone that should not have known even the slightest details of Gudge’s mission. It was the wife of a man who listened when his wife came home from the sewing circle and mentioned Gudge Riley was going to Washington on business. How peculiar! she exclaimed and her husband agreed quietly. This interested him because he happened to see Gudge leave Martin’s store and he knew which side Martin was loyal to. This made him suspicious enough that he told his brother who happened to be visiting from Washington and worked with the Union Intelligence Service. The visiting brother left to return home the next day but sent a telegraph once he arrived in a town a little more to the north and shared with his superiors what he had heard. After some quick investigation into the matter and some other intel, it was determined Gudge was not headed for Washington but probably Richmond. But, in the off chance the intel was correct, there would be someone waiting in both capitals to apprehend him and determine his fate. In short, before Gudge even boarded that ferry a group of Union spies were waiting for him. No matter which capital he was headed for someone would have grabbed him.
In her defense, Gudge’s wife always thought he meant President Lincoln and that he was delivering a letter to help the Union army. That was the story she told their children and grandchildren. They in turn shared the story with some embellishment and emphasis on Gudge’s bravery. She never realized it was her very own words that sealed her husband’s fate.
That is how Gudge Riley the First, a rather unwilling Confederate spy, came to be known as a Union hero in his small community. How the story came to be that his ultimate sacrifice ended up winning the war. Because until the drought uncovered the USS Hippo, no one ever knew what exactly had happened to old Gudge. There was never any evidence he didn’t get taken by some Confederate spies on his way to Washington. His absence filled in the blanks of the story and made him a hero because there was no proof otherwise.
Until, of course, the river decided to tell the secret.
