The Haunted Homestead Part 27

If there was any work to be done in the overseer's house, Milly was always sent for to do it, and always detained a long time. Governor was dispatched to labor upon the most remote part of the plantation; and whenever a messenger was required to go upon a distant errand, Governor was selected.

Poor fellow! he was not acute enough to be suspicious, or bad enough to be jealous. On the contrary, he was very good-natured, stupid and confiding. And he might have gone on forever, without suspecting that there was anything wrong, had not Milly, upon every Sunday and holiday, appeared in finery better than any of her companions could sport, and so excited their envy, quickened their perceptions and stimulated their tongues.

And rudely enough were the poor husband's eyes opened, and from that time no more wretched man than Governor lived upon this earth. He expostulated with Milly, who tearfully confessed to receiving presents from the new overseer, and protested her innocence of everything but their acceptance. And it is probable that up to this time, and for a long time after, Milly, who sincerely loved the ugly, but good-hearted father of her children, was innocent of everything except vanity; and could she have been delivered from the power of the tempter, would have remained blameless.

But there was no such deliverance for her. And now commenced the most troubled life that could be imagined for the husband. He felt that Milly still loved him with undiminished fidelity, but he knew, also, the power of temptation and of example. How many virtuous women were there on that or any other plantation? Why, virtue was not taught them--was not expected of them; and if they were born with the instinct, it was soon lost among a cla.s.s where licentiousness was the rule and integrity the exception. The generality of this misfortune among his fellow-slaves did not make it any the less painful to this poor man to see his beloved Milly tempted from his bosom.

And he saw, with increasing anguish, that Milly, notwithstanding her penitence and tearful declaration that she would be faithful to Governor forever and forever, could not prevent the daily calls of the overseer at her cabin, and dared not disobey his commands, when he summoned her to work in his house.

Governor was still and ever kept at work upon the most distant parts of the plantation, and the overseer still and ever appropriated as much as he possibly could of Milly's time and services. There was no help for them.

Major Hewitt, in many respects a kind master, had, for his peace, long closed his ears to complaints of the slaves against their overseer, and Governor knew full well that his master would hear not one word against Mr. Moriarty.

Why lengthen a sad story? All the women of the plantation knew that, sooner or later, Milly would have no right to look down from her pride of integrity upon them. Yet it was some time--more than a year--before she was numbered among the frail ones.

And then, as guilt is so much more circ.u.mspect than innocence, poor Governor was deceived into a fool's paradise of confiding love, and led to believe that the overseer had entirely abandoned the persecution of Milly.

This blind confidence lasted until one day, when one of those sudden little breaks of water, so small that its surface might be covered with two hands, yet, withal, the herald of that terror of the Gulf planters, a devastating "creva.s.se," appeared in the midst of a valuable field, and it became necessary to arrest its progress at once.

A party of negroes was dispatched to the spot, and Governor was sent with them. In the course of a few hours, the creva.s.se had made dangerous progress, and they had to work until very late at night. But it was early when the overseer left them.

It was between eleven and twelve o'clock when a young negro from the quarters came down to the works, and, taking Governor aside, whispered something in his ear.

Down went the man's shovel, and away he sprang, and--all on fire with rage and jealousy--a man no longer, but an unreasoning brute--ran and leaped, bounding over everything that came in his way, and taking a bee-line to his cabin, the door of which he burst open.

A moment and the overseer lay dead, slain by the hand of the injured husband.

Governor did not hurt a hair of Milly's head; even in his mad and blind rage he had spared her, still so beloved. Neither did he attempt to save himself by flight, but lay moaning and groaning upon the cabin floor until he was taken into custody.

This was the substance of the story related to Valentine.

"I'se sorry I killed him, Brudder Walley! dough I hardly knowed what I was a doin' of. I'se sorry, dough it was all so tryin' from fuss to las'. Yes! I is berry sorry, dough it ain't no use to say it, 'cause I knows how, ef it wur to do ober agin', I should be sure to do it ober agin'! so, what's de use o' pentin'?"

Valentine pressed his hand in silence, scarcely knowing what to reply just then, sadly thinking of the many thousands whose positions were just as false, as trying, as maddening, as his own and Governor's had been.

About noon that day, Major Hewitt came into the cell to see his slave.

The Major was very much overcome at the sight of Governor, and spoke with great feeling.

"Oh, Governor! my heart bleeds for you, and for what you have done, my poor fellow! Oh! Governor, why, why did you take your revenge in your own hands, in this horrible manner? Why did you not, long ago, complain to me? I would have seen you righted."

"Ah, Ma.r.s.e Major, you never would hear no 'plaints we-dem made against the oberseer. It's been tried often, and you never would!"

"Yes, but my poor fellow! in such a case I would have listened to your complaint. I would have protected your family peace at every cost. If necessary, I would have discharged Moriarty. Yours was an exceptional case, and I would have attended to it."

"Ah, Ma.r.s.e Major, honey! I dessay you think you would now, as it has come to dis yer! But you wouldn't o' done it, Ma.r.s.e Major, honey! 'deed you wouldn't, 'cause you see it has been tried afore, an' you never would listen to nothin' 't all 'bout de oberseer. It's on'y 'cause it's come to dis yer you thinks different," said Governor, sadly, but respectfully, and even affectionately.

Major Hewitt did not reply; perhaps he felt that the slave had spoken the truth, for he looked extremely distressed, and told him that he would engage the best counsel to defend him; that no cost should be spared, even to the half of his estate, to save him.

And Major Hewitt kept his word, and hastened to secure the best legal aid to be had for Governor.

The day of the trial was at hand. It was known that two were to be tried for similar offenses. But every one was interested in Valentine, and no one, except his master, seemed to care one farthing for Governor. Those who saw him said he was "an ill-looking fellow," and there left the subject.

Valentine was the first arraigned. When his case was fully investigated, it was obvious to all minds that on the fatal encounter in which Mr.

Waring fell, Valentine had struck only in self-defense--only after his own blood had been drawn, and he had been once felled to the floor. But then the blow had been fatal. And though he was well and ably defended, yet the verdict rendered against the prisoner was "Willful Murder."

Valentine heard the verdict, and afterward received his sentence quietly, as a matter of course. At its conclusion, he bowed gravely, and was conducted from the court-room.

CHAPTER X.

THE SCAFFOLD.

Oh! judge none lost, but wait and see, With hopeful pity, not disdain; The depth of the abyss may be The measure of the height of pain.--HOUSEHOLD WORDS.

When Valentine's little family circle received information of the verdict that laid low their last hopes, Phaedra met the misfortune with that sad resignation which we often see in those whom either time or sorrow has aged, and which we are apt to think owes its calmness as much to the exhausted energies of the sufferer as to any higher cause. Fannie heard the issue of the trial with wild grief, and a day and night of illness intervened before she could go and see the condemned.

The conviction of Valentine was immediately followed by the arraignment of Governor. The trial of the latter was even shorter than that of the former had been. He was ably defended by the counsel employed by his master; but nothing could have saved him. And the jury, without leaving their seats, brought in their verdict of "Guilty." His sentence followed immediately. It was, however, pitiable to observe that the poor wretch did not understand one-half of what had been done or said during the whole course of his trial. And when he was conducted back to the prison, and locked in with Valentine, he said to the latter:

"Well, Walley, ole ma.r.s.e up dere on de bench put a black nightcap on his head, an' said somethin' 'r other 'bout hangin'; but I reckon he only did it to scare me, 'cause I saw by his face how his heart was a softening all de time."

After his condemnation to death, Valentine's friends were more devoted to him than ever. Day and night, one or more of the brethren of the church was with him. And one sister, especially, who was known by the name of "Sister Dely," divided her attentions between him and his little family, who equally, or more, needed comfort. Again the papers were filled with descriptions of this "extraordinary boy," as Valentine was called. Interviews held with him by clergymen were reported at length.

His likeness was taken in prison, and wood-cutted in a pamphlet report of his trial. In a word, the unhappy young man became for a while a local notoriety. And this was ascribable, not to the nature of the catastrophe, which, unfortunately, was but too common in that section of country, but to the individuality and character of the condemned.

And another circ.u.mstance connected with this tragedy was so strange that I must not omit to record it. A rumor got out that old Portiphar had betrayed Valentine into the hands of the law, and that a number of negroes in secret meeting had sworn the death of the traitor whenever and wherever either one of them could take him. This matter was carefully investigated by those most interested; but though they could obtain no sort of satisfactory information, yet their suspicions, instead of being dissipated, were so strongly confirmed, that it was deemed advisable for the officers who had arrested Valentine to come out under oath with the declaration that Portiphar had not by the remotest hint put them upon the track, but that the discovery of the fugitive under the disguise of female apparel had been entirely accidental.

This declaration, duly sworn to and attested, was embodied in a short address to be read to the negroes, printed on handbills, and posted and distributed all over the city and surrounding country. And for some little time this was supposed to be quite sufficient to allay excitement and insure security. But in a day or two it became evident, in some way, that the negroes did not believe the sworn statement of the police officers. And as it was thought best to get rid of unsafe property, Portiphar, who had lurked in concealment for some weeks, was sold by his master to a New Orleans trader, and the neighborhood breathed freely again.

The pet.i.tion to the Executive for the pardon of Valentine, got up under the auspices of Oswald Waring's widow, failed of success, as every one had predicted that it must. And when this last little glimmering light of earthly hope went down, Valentine sedulously addressed himself to preparation for eternity.

It was piteous to observe Governor at this time. Any one, to have seen him, must have perceived at once that he was no subject for capital punishment. But no one, except his master and Valentine, was the least interested in him. Alas! poor wretch, he was not even interested in himself! When the refusal of the Executive to pardon Valentine had been received, it was affecting to see the efforts of Governor to console what he supposed to be the disappointment of his fellow-prisoner.

"Don't you mind, Walley! Dey's only doin' dis to scare we! Sho! dey's no more gwine to hang we, nor dey's gwine to heave so much money in de fire! Sho! we's too walable. I heern de gemmen all say what fine, walable men we was--'specially me! Sho! dere's muscle for you!" said Governor, drawing himself up, jerking forward both arms with a strong impetus, and then clapping his hands upon his nether limbs.

"Sho! You think dey's gwine to let all dat here go to loss? Ef it were only whippin' now, dey might do it! but making all dis here muscle dead?

Sho! what de use o' dead n.i.g.g.e.r? What good dat do? Sho!"

And, with this strong expletive of contempt, Governor sat down. Strange and sad as was the fact, this poor, stupid creature was thoroughly persuaded that his own and Valentine's life were perfectly safe. He knew that, living, he himself was worth at least twelve or fifteen hundred dollars, for he had more than once heard himself so appraised; and that, dead, he was worth just so much less than nothing as the cost of his burial would be. And from these facts he drew the inference that he was far too valuable to be executed. And he persisted in looking upon the whole train of events, comprising his arrest, imprisonment, trial and condemnation, with all the pageantry of court-room, judges, lawyers, juries and officers, only as a solemn show, got up to frighten him and his fellow prisoner. Nothing could disabuse him of this illusion; for, if once any idea got fixed in his poor, thick head, it was just impossible to dislodge it. In vain Valentine endeavored to enlighten him as to his true position; Governor would reply, with a compa.s.sionate look:

"Oh, sho! you's scared, Walley! you's scared! Tell me! I knows better!

Dey's not such fools as to hang we! ca'se what would be de use, you know! Sho!"

The Methodist preacher exhorted and prayed with Governor, to as little purpose. He could not be made to believe in the fact of his fast-approaching death.

"Oh, sho, Walley! I doesn't say nuffin' 't all afore dem, 'cause you see 'taint right to give de back answer to de ministers; but dey's league 'long o' de oders, Walley! Dey's league 'long o' de oders. Can't scare dis chile wid no sich! Tell you, Walley, dead n.i.g.g.e.r ain't no use, but dead expense! So what de use o' hanging of him? Sho!"

This interjection usually finished the argument.