laid before you the clearest possible case. I have just
gone through a pretty long term of this court; I see
several familiar faces on the jury, and I rely on your
intelligence. In fact, the only point of the defence is,
that the United States have offered no proof that
Drayton seduced and enticed these slaves to come on
board the Pearl; and that the prisoner's counsel are
pleased to call a gap, a chasm, which they say you can't
fill up. It is the same gap which occurs in every
larceny case. Where can the government produce positive
testimony to the taking? That is done secretly, in the
dark, and is to be presumed from circumstances. A man is
found going off with a bag of chickens,--your chickens.
Are you going to presume that the chickens run into his
bag of their own accord, and without his agency? A man
is found riding your horse. Are you to presume that the
horse came to him of its own accord? and yet horses love
liberty,--they love to kick up their heels and run. Yet
this would be just as sensible as to suppose that these
slaves came on board Drayton's vessel without his direct
agency. He came here from Philadelphia for them; they
are found on board his vessel; Drayton says he would
steal a negro if he could; is not that enough? Then he
was here some months before with an oyster-boat,
pretending to sell oysters. He pretended that he came
for his health. Likely story, indeed! I should like to
see the doctor who would recommend a patient to come
here in the fall of the year, when the fever and ague is
so thick in the marshes that you can cut it with a
knife. Cruising about, eating and selling oysters, at
that time of the year, for his health! Nonsense! He was
here, at that very time, hatching and contriving that
these very negroes should go on board the Pearl. But the
prisoner's counsel say he might have been employed by
others simply to carry them away! Who could have
employed him but abolitionists; and did he not say he
had no sympathy with abolitionists. So much for that
hypothesis. Then, he in fact pleads guilty,--he says he
expects to die in the penitentiary. Don't you think he
ought to? If there is any chasm here, the prisoner must
shed light upon it. If he had employers, who were they?
The prisoner's counsel have said that he is not bound to
tell; and that the witnesses, if summoned here, would
not be compelled to criminate themselves. But shall this
prisoner be allowed to take advantage of his own wrong?
"As to the metaphysics of the prisoner's counsel about
possession, that is easily disposed of. Were not these
slaves found in Drayton's possession, and didn't he
admit that he took them?
"As to the cautions given you about prejudice and
passion, I do not think they are necessary. I have seen
no sort of excitement here since the first detection of
this affair that would prevent the prisoner having a
fair trial. Is there any crowd or excitement here? The
community will be satisfied with the verdict. There is
no question the party is guilty. I never had anything to
do with a case sustained by stronger evidence. I don't
ask you to give an illegal or perjured verdict. Take the
law and the evidence, and decide upon it.
"N.B.--The argument being now concluded, and the jury
about to go out, some question arose whether the jury
should have the written instructions of the court with
them; and some inquiry being made as to the practice,
one of the jurors observed that in a case in which he
had formerly acted as juror the jury had the
instructions with them, and he proceeded to tell a funny
story about a bottle of rum, told by one of the jurors
on that occasion, which story caused him to remember the
fact. It may be observed, by the way, that the
proceedings of the United States Criminal Court for the
District of Columbia are not distinguished for any
remarkable decorum or dignity. The jury, in this case,
were in constant intercourse, during any little
intervals in the trial, with the spectators outside the
bar."
The case was given to the jury about three o'clock, P.M., and the court,
after waiting half an hour, adjourned.
When the court met, at ten o'clock the next morning, the jury were still
out, having remained together all night without being able to agree.
Meanwhile the District Attorney proceeded to try me on another
indictment, for stealing three slaves the property of one William H.
Upperman. As this trial was proceeding, about half-past two the jury in
the first case came in, and rendered a verdict of GUILTY. They presented
rather a haggard appearance, having been locked up for twenty-four
hours, and some of them being perhaps a little troubled in their
consciences. The jury, it was understood, had been divided, from the
beginning, four for acquittal and eight for conviction. These four were
all Irishmen, and perhaps they did not consider it consistent with their
personal safety and business interests to persist in disappointing the
slave-holding public of that verdict which the District Attorney had so
imperiously demanded. The agreement, it was understood, had taken place
only a few moments before they came in, and had been reached entirely on
the strength of Williams' testimony to my having said, that had I got
off I should have made an independent fortune. Now, it was a curious
coincidence, that at the very moment that this agreement was thus taking
place, Williams, again on the stand as a witness on the second trial,
wished to take back what he had then sworn to on the first trial,
stating that he could not tell whether he had heard me say this, or
whether he had heard of my having said it from somebody else.
After the rendition of the verdict of the other jury, the second case
was again resumed. The evidence varied in only a few particulars from
that which had been given in the first case. There was, in addition,
the testimony of Upperman, the pretended owner of the woman and her
daughters, one of fifteen, the other nine years old, whom I was charged
in this indictment with stealing. This man swore with no less alacrity,
and with no less falsehood, than Houver had done before him. He stated
that about half-past ten, of that same night that the Pearl left
Washington, while he was fastening up his house, he saw a man standing
on the side-walk opposite his door, and observed him for some time. Not
long after, having gone to bed, he heard a noise of somebody coming down
stairs; and, calling out, he was answered by his slave-woman, who was
just then going off, though he had no suspicion of it at the time. That
man standing on the side-walk he pretended to recognize as me. He was
perfectly certain of it, beyond all doubt and question. The object of
this testimony was, to lead to a conclusion of enticement or persuasion
on my part, and so to bring the case within one of the judge's
instructions already stated. On a subsequent trial, Upperman was still
more certain, if possible, that I was the man. But he was entirely
mistaken in saying so. His house was on Pennsylvania Avenue, more than a
mile from where the Pearl lay, and I was not within a mile of it that
night. I dare say Upperman was sincere enough. He was one of your
positive sort of men; but his case, like that of Houver, shows that men
in a passion will sometimes fall into blunders. I have reason to believe
that after the trials were over Upperman became satisfied of his error.
The first trial had consumed a week; the second one lasted four days.
The judge laid down the same law as before, and similar exceptions were
taken by my counsel. The jury again remained out all night, being long
divided,--nine for conviction to three for acquittal; but on the morning
of August 9th they came in with a verdict of GUILTY.
Satisfied for the present with these two verdicts against me, the
District Attorney now proposed to pass over the rest of my cases, and to
proceed to try Sayres. My counsel objected that, having been forced to
proceed against my remonstrances, I was here ready for trial, and they
insisted that all my cases should be now disposed of. They did not
prevail, however; and the District Attorney proceeded to try Sayres on
an indictment for stealing the same two slaves of Houver.
In addition to the former witnesses against me, English was now put upon
the stand, the District Attorney having first entered _nolle prosequi_
upon the hundred and fifteen indictments against him. But he could state
nothing except the circumstances of his connection with the affair, and
the coming on board of the passengers on Saturday night, as I have
already related them. On the other hand, the "phantom brig" story, of
which the District Attorney had made so great a handle in the two cases
against me, was now ruled out, on the ground that the brig could not be
brought into the case till some connection had first been shown between
her and the Pearl. The trial lasted three days. The District Attorney
pressed for a conviction with no less violence than he had done in my
case, assuring the jury that if they did not convict there was an end of
the security of slave property. But Sayres had several advantages over
me. My two juries had been citizens of Washington, several of them
belonging to a class of loafers who frequent the courts for the sake of
the fees to be got as jurymen. Some complaints having been made of this,
the officers had been sent to Georgetown and the country districts, and
the present jury was drawn from those quarters. Then, again, I was
regarded as the main culprit,--the only one in the secret of the
transaction; and, as I was already convicted, the feeling against Sayres
was much lessened. In fact, the jury in his case, after an absence of
half an hour, returned a verdict of NOT GUILTY.
The District Attorney, greatly surprised and vexed, proceeded to try
Sayres on another indictment. This trial lasted three days and a half;
but, in spite of the efforts of the District Attorney, who was more
positive, longer and louder, than ever, the jury, in ten minutes,
returned a verdict of NOT GUILTY.
The trials had now continued through nearly four weeks of very hot
weather, and both sides were pretty well worn out. Vexed at the two last
verdicts, the District Attorney threatened to give up Sayres on a
requisition from Virginia, which was said to have been lodged for us,
some of the alleged slaves belonging there, and we having been there
shortly before.
Finally, it was agreed that verdicts should be taken against Sayres in
the seventy-four transportation cases, he to have the advantage of
carrying the points of law before the Circuit Court, and the remaining
larceny indictments against him to be discontinued.
Thus ended the first legal campaign. English was discharged altogether,
without trial. Sayres had got rid of the charge of larceny. I had been
found guilty on two indictments for stealing, upon which Judge Crawford
sentenced me to twenty years imprisonment in the penitentiary; while
Sayres, on seventy-four indictments for assisting the escape of slaves,
was sentenced to a fine on each indictment of one hundred and fifty
dollars and costs, amounting altogether to seven thousand four hundred
dollars. But from these judgments an appeal had been taken to the
Circuit Court, and meanwhile Sayres and I remained in prison as before.
The hearing before the Circuit Court came on the 26th of November. That
court consisted of Chief-Justice Cranch, an able and upright judge, but
very old and infirm; and Judges Morrell and Dunlap, the latter of whom
claimed to be the owner of two of the negroes found on board the Pearl.
My cases were argued for me by Messrs. Hildreth, Carlisle and Mann. The
District Attorney, who was much better fitted to bawl to a jury than to
argue before a court, had retained, at the expense of the United States,
the assistance of Mr. Bradley, one of the ablest lawyers of the
District. The argument consumed not less than three days. Many points
were discussed; but that on which the cases turned was the definition of
larceny. It resulted in the allowance of several of my bills of
exceptions, the overturn of the law of Judge Crawford on the subject of
larceny, and the establishment by the Circuit Court of the doctrine on
that subject contended for by my counsel; but from this opinion Judge
Dunlap dissented. The case of Sayres, for want of time, was postponed
till the next term.
A new trial having been ordered in my two cases, everybody supposed that
the charge of larceny would now be abandoned, as the Circuit Court had
taken away the only basis on which it could possibly rest. But the zeal
of the District Attorney was not yet satisfied; and, no longer trusting
to his own unassisted efforts, he obtained (at the expense of the United
States) the assistance of Richard Cox, Esq., an old and very
unscrupulous practitioner, with whose aid he tried the cases over again
in the Criminal Court. The two trials lasted about fourteen days. I was
again defended by Messrs. Mann and Carlisle, and now with better
success, as the juries, under the instructions which Judge Crawford
found himself obliged to give, and notwithstanding the desperate efforts
against me, acquitted me in both cases, almost without leaving their
seats.
Finally, the District Attorney agreed to abandon the remaining larceny
cases, if we would consent to verdicts in the transportation cases on
the same terms with those in the case of Sayres. This was done; when
Judge Crawford had the satisfaction of sentencing me to fines and costs
amounting together to ten thousand and sixty dollars, and to remain in
prison until that amount was paid.
There was still a further hearing before the Circuit Court on the bills
of exceptions to these transportation indictments. My counsel thought
they had some good legal objections; but the hearing unfortunately came
on when Judge Cranch was absent from the bench, and the other two judges
overruled them. By a strange construction of the laws, no criminal case,
except by accident, can be carried before the Supreme Court of the
United States; otherwise, the cases against us would have been taken
there, including the question of the legality of slavery in the District
of Columbia.
Thus, after a severe and expensive struggle, I was saved from the
penitentiary; but Sayres and myself remained in the Washington jail,
loaded with enormous fines, which, from our total inability to pay them,
would keep us there for life, unless the President could be induced to
pardon us; and it was even questioned, as I shall show presently,
whether he had any such power.
The jail of the District of Columbia is under the charge of the Marshal
of the District. That office, when I was first committed to prison, was
filled by a Mr. Hunter; but he was sick at the time, and died soon
after, when Robert Wallace was appointed. This Wallace was a Virginian,
from the neighbor hood of Alexandria, son of a Doctor Wallace from whom
he had inherited a large property, including many slaves. He had removed
to Tennessee, and had set up cotton-planting there; but, failing in that
business, had returned back with the small remnants of his property, and
Polk provided for him by making him marshal. It was not long before I
found that he had a great spite against me. It was in vain that I
solicited from him the use of the passage. The light which came into my
cell was very faint, and I could only read by sitting on the floor with
my back against the grating of the cell door. But, so far from aiding me
to read,--and it was the only method I had of passing my time,--Wallace
made repeated and vexatious attempts to keep me from receiving
newspapers. I should very soon have died on the prison allowance. The
marshal is allowed by the United States thirty-three cents per day for
feeding the prisoners. For this money they receive two meals; breakfast,
consisting of one herring, corn-bread and a dish of molasses and water,
very slightly flavored with coffee; and for dinner, corn-bread again,
with half a pound of the meanest sort of salted beef, and a soup made of
corn-meal stirred into the pot-liquor. This is the bill of fare day
after day, all the year round; and, as at the utmost such food cannot
cost more than eight or nine cents a day for each prisoner, and as the
average number is fifty, the marshal must make a handsome profit. The
diet has been fixed, I suppose, after the model of the slave allowances.
But Congress, after providing the means of feeding the prisoners in a
decent manner, ought not to allow them to be starved for the benefit of
the marshal. Such was the diet to which I was confined in the first days
of my imprisonment. But I soon contrived to make a friend of Jake, the
old black cook of the prison, who, I could see as he came in to pour out
my coffee, evinced a certain sympathy and respect for me. Through his
agency I was able to purchase some more eatable food; and indeed the
surgeon of the jail allowed me flour, under the name of medicine, it
being impossible, as he said, for me to live on the prison diet.
Wallace, soon after he came into office, finding a small sum in my
possession, of about forty dollars, took it from me. He expressed a fear
that I might corrupt old Jake, or somebody else,--especially as he found
that I gave Jake my old newspapers,--and so escape from the prison. But
he left the money in the hands of the jailer, and allowed me to draw it
out, a dollar at a time. He presently turned out old Jake, and put in a
slave-woman of his own as cook; but she was better disposed towards me
than her master, and I found no difficulty in purchasing with my own
money, and getting her to prepare such food as I wanted. I was able,
too, after some six or eight weeks' sleeping on the stone floor of my
cell, to obtain some improvement in that particular; and not for myself
only, but for all the other prisoners also. The jailer was requested by
several persons who came to see us to procure mattresses for us at their
expense; and, finally, Wallace, as if out of pure shame, procured a
quantity of husk mattresses for the use of the prisoners generally.
Still, we had no cots, and were obliged to spread our mattresses on the
floor.
The allowance of clothing made to the prisoners who were confined
without any means of supporting themselves corresponded pretty well with
the jail allowance of provisions. They received shirts, one at a time,
made of the very meanest kind of cotton cloth, and of the very smallest
dimensions; trousers of about equal quality, and shoes. It was said that
the United States paid also for jackets and caps. How that was I do not
know; but the prisoners never received any.
The custody of the jail was intrusted to a head jailer, assisted by four
guards, or turnkeys, one of whom acted also as book-keeper. Of the
personal treatment toward me of those in office, at the time I was first
committed, I have no complaint to make. The rigor of my confinement was
indeed great; but I am happy to say that it was not aggravated by any
disposition on the part of these men to triumph over me, or to trample
upon me. As they grew more acquainted with me, they showed their sense
that I was not an ordinary criminal, and treated me with many marks of
consideration, and even of regard, and in one of them I found a true
friend.
Shortly after Wallace came into office, he made several changes. He was
full of caprices, and easily took offence from very small causes; and of
this the keepers, as well as the prisoners, had abundant experience. The
head jailer did his best to please, behaving in the most humble and
submissive manner; but all to no purpose. He was discharged, as were
also the others, one after another,--Wallace undertaking to act as head
jailer himself. Of Wallace's vexatious conduct towards me; of his
refusal to allow me to receive newspapers,--prohibiting the under jailer
to lend me even the Baltimore _Sun_; of his accusation against me of
bribing old Jake, whom he forbade the turnkeys to allow to come near me;
of his keeping me shut up in my cell; and generally of a bitter spirit
of angry malice against me,--I had abundant reason to complain during
the weary fifteen months or more that I remained under his power. But
his subordinates, though obliged to obey his orders and to comply with
his humors, were far from being influenced by his feelings. Even his
favorite among the turnkeys, a person who pretty faithfully copied his
conduct towards the other prisoners, always behaved very kindly towards
me, and even used to make a confidant of me, by coming to my cell to
talk over his troubles.
But the person whose kind offices and friendly sympathy did far more
than those of any other to relieve the tediousness of my confinement,
and to keep my heart from sinking, was Mr. Wood. There is no chaplain at
the Washington jail, nor has Congress, so far as I am aware, made any
provision of any kind for the spiritual wants or the moral and religious
instruction of the inmates of it. This great deficiency Mr. Wood, a man
of a great heart, though of very limited pecuniary means, being then a
clerk in the Telegraph office, had taken it upon himself to supply, so
far as he could; and for that purpose he was in the habit of visiting
the prison on Sundays, conversing with the prisoners, and furnishing
tracts and books to such as were able and disposed to read. He came to
my cell, or to the grating of the passage in which I was confined, on
the very first Sunday of my imprisonment, and he readily promised, at my
request, to furnish me with a Bible; though in that act of kindness he
was anticipated by the colored woman of whom I have already made
mention, who appeared at my cell, with a Bible for me, just after Mr.
Wood had left it.
The kindness of Mr. Wood's heart, and the sincerity of his sympathy, was
so apparent as to secure him the affectionate respect of all the
prisoners. To me he proved a very considerate and useful friend. Not
only was I greatly indebted to his assistance in making known my
necessities and those of my family to those disposed to relieve them,
but his cheerful and Christian conversation served to brighten many a
dark hour, and to dispel many gloomy feelings. Were all professing
Christians like my friend Mr. Wood, we should not hear so many
denunciations as we now do of the church, and complaints of her
short-comings.
There was another person, also, whose kind attentions to me I ought not
to overlook. This was Mrs. Susannah Ford, a very respectable colored
woman, who sold refreshments in the lobby of the court-house, and who,
in the progress of the trial, had evinced a good deal of interest in
the case. As she often had boarders in the jail, who, like me, could not
live on the jail fare, and whom she supplied, she was frequently there,
and she seldom came without bringing with her some substantial token of
her regard.
Sayres and myself had looked forward to the change of administration,
which resulted from the election of General Taylor, with considerable
hopes of advantage from it--but, for a considerable time, this advantage
was limited to a change in the marshal in whose custody we were. The
turning out of Wallace gave great satisfaction to everybody in the jail,
or connected with it, except the turnkeys, who held office by his
appointment, and who expected that his dismissal would be followed by
their own. The very day before the appointment of his successor came
out, I had been remonstrating with him against the cruelty of refusing
me the use of the passage; and I had even ventured to hint that I hoped
he would do nothing which he would be ashamed to see spoken of in the
public prints; to which he replied, "G--d d--n the public prints!--in
that cell you will stay!" But in this he proved not much of a prophet.
The next day, as soon as the news of his dismissal reached the jail, the
turnkeys at once unlocked my cell-door and admitted me into the passage,
observing that the new marshal, when he came to take possession, should
at least find me there.
This new marshal was Mr. Robert Wallach, a native of the District, very
similar in name to his predecessor, but very different in nature; and
from the time that he entered into office the extreme rigor hitherto
exercised to me was a good deal abated. One thing, however, I had to
regret in the change, which was the turning out of all the old guards,
with whom I was already well acquainted, and the appointment of a new
set. One of these thus turned out--the person to whom I have already
referred to as the chief favorite of the late marshal--made a desperate
effort to retain his office. But, although he solicited and obtained
certificates to the effect that he was, and always had been, a good
Whig, he had to walk out with the others.
The new jailer appointed by Wallach, and three of the new guards, or
turnkeys, were very gentlemanly persons, and neither I nor the other
prisoners had any reason to complain of the change. Of the fourth
turnkey I cannot say as much. He was violent, overbearing and
tyrannical, and he was frequently guilty of conduct towards the
prisoners which made him very unfit to serve under such a marshal, and
ought to have caused his speedy removal. But, unfortunately, the marshal
was under some political obligations to him, which made the turning him
out not so easy a matter. This person seemed to have inherited all the
feelings of hatred and dislike which the late marshal had entertained
towards me, and he did his best to annoy me in a variety of ways,
though, of course, his power was limited by his subordinate position.