_A Great Day in Court._
Long before the hour set for the trial of the alleged Eunice Volrees on
the charge of bigamy the court house yard and the corridors were full of
people, but, strange to say, the _court room_ in which the trial was to
take place, though open, was not occupied. The crowds thus far were
composed of Negroes and white people in the middle walks of life, who
looked upon the forthcoming trial as a 'big folks'' affair and, as if by
agreement, the court room was spared for the occupancy of the elite. As
the hour for the trial drew near the carriages and automobiles of the
upper classes began to arrive. Each arrival would come in for a share of
the attention of the middle classes and the distinguishing feature of
each personage was told in whispers from one to another.
When the carriage of the Hon. H. G. Volrees rolled up to the court house
gate silence fell upon the multitude and those on the walk leading to
the court house door fell back and let him pass. His face wore a solemn,
determined look and the common verdict was, "No mercy there. A fight to
a finish."
The court room was now fairly well filled with Almaville notables, and
the plain people now crowded in to get seats as best they could or to
occupy standing room. Almost the last carriage to arrive was that
containing Eunice. The curtains to the carriage were drawn so that no
one in it could be seen until the door was opened. Eunice and her
lawyers stepped out and quickly closed the door behind them. Contrary to
the expectations of many, she wore no veil and each person in the great
throng was highly gratified at an opportunity to scrutinize her features
thoroughly. A way was made for her through the great throng and she
walked to the prisoner's seat holding to the arm of her lawyer.
The case was called, a jury secured, and the examination of witnesses
entered into. The first witness on the part of the State was the Hon. H.
G. Volrees himself. As he took the witness chair a bustle was heard in
the room. The people in the aisle were trying to squeeze themselves
together more tightly to allow a man to pass who was leading a little
six-year-old boy, who had just been taken from the carriage which had
brought Eunice to the trial. "Make room, please. I am taking her son to
her," the man would say, and the crowd would fall away as best it could.
The Hon. H. G. Volrees had opened his mouth to begin his testimony when
he noticed that his attorney, the opposing counsel, the judge and the
officers of the court had turned their eyes toward the prisoner's seat.
As nobody seemed to be listening to him he halted in the midst of his
first sentence and turned to see what was attracting the attention of
the others. As he looked, a peculiar sensation passed over him.
Perspiration broke out in beads and his veins stood out like whip cords.
He clutched his chair tightly and cleared his throat.
There sat beside Eunice her child, having all of Mr. Volrees' features.
There were his dark chestnut hair, his large dark eyes, his nose, his
lips, his poise and a dark brown stain beneath the left ear which had
been a recurrence in the Volrees family for generations. The public was
mystified as it was commonly understood that the marital relations had
extended no farther than the marriage ceremony. The presence of this
child looked therefore to be an impeachment of the integrity of Mr.
Volrees and of Eunice. The wonder was as to why nothing about the child
had been mentioned before. Mr. Volrees sat in his chair, his eyes fixed
on the boy.
The lawyer at length resumed the examination of Mr. Volrees, but the
latter made a sorry witness. It was evident that the coming in of this
child had thoroughly upset him in some way. He was mystified, and his
mind, grappling with the problem of his likeness sitting there before
him, could not address itself to the functions of a witness in the case
at issue. He was finally excused from the witness chair.
The other witnesses, who, out of sympathy for H. G. Volrees had come to
identify Eunice as his bride, seeing his collapse, did not feel inclined
to take the prosecution of the case upon themselves and their testimony
did not have the positiveness necessary to carry conviction. It was very
evident that the state had not made out a case and an acquittal seemed
assured.
The Negro porter was in the court room eagerly watching the progress of
the trial, knowing that the obtaining of his reward hinged upon the
outcome of the case. He saw the trend of affairs and felt that something
had to be done to stem the tide. He saw Tiara sitting in the court room,
and said to the prosecuting attorney in a whisper, "Yonder is a colored
girl who knows her thoroughly and can tell all about her."
To her great surprise Tiara was called as a witness. She was a striking,
beautiful figure, as she stood to take the oath that she would tell the
truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
"Mr. Judge," said Tiara, in a sweet, sad voice, "can it go on record
that I am not a volunteer witness in this case?"
The judge looked a little puzzled and Tiara said, "At any rate, judge,
if in after time it be said that I did not on this occasion stand up for
those connected with me by ties of blood, I want it understood that I
did not seek this chair--did not know that I was to be called; but since
I am here, I shall fulfil my oath and tell the truth, the whole truth
and nothing but the truth."
Tiara now took her seat in the witness chair.
Eunice leaned forward and gazed at Tiara, her thin beautiful lips
quivering, her eyes trying to read the intent of Tiara's soul.
Tiara looked at the recording clerk and appeared to address her
testimony to him. Now that she was forced to speak she desired the whole
truth to come out. Her poor tired soul now clutched at proffered
surcease through the unburdening of itself. She began:
"In revolutionary times one of your most illustrious men, whose fame has
found lodgment in all quarters of the globe, was clandestinely married
to a Negro woman. My mother was a direct descendant of this man. My
mother's ancestors, descendants of this man, made a practice of
intermarrying with mulattoes, until in her case all trace of Negro
blood, so far as personal appearance was concerned, had disappeared. She
married my father, he thinking that she was wholly white, and she
thinking the same of him. Two children, a boy and a girl, having all the
characteristics of whites, were born to them. Then I was born and my
complexion showed plainly the traces of Negro blood. The community in
which we lived, Shirleyville, Indiana, in a quiet way, was much
disturbed over the Negro blood manifested in me, and my mother's good
name was imperilled.
"My mother confessed to my father the fact that she was a descendant of
Negroes and he made a like confession to my mother as to his ancestry.
When Shirleyville found out that my parents had Negro blood in their
veins, I was regarded as a 'reversion to type,' and the storm blew over.
My father became Mayor of the town, and great ambitions began to form in
my mother's heart.
"A notable social event was to take place at Indianapolis and my mother
aspired to be a guest. She met with a rebuff because she had Negro blood
in her veins. This rebuff corrupted my mother's whole nature, and
hardened her heart. She had my father to resign as Mayor. Our home was
burned and we were all supposed to have perished in the flames. This was
my mother's way of having us born into the world again.
"My mother, father and the other two children began life over as whites,
and I began it over as a lone Negro girl without family connection, and
we all had this second start in life here in your city.
"Most all people in America have theories as to the best solution of the
race problem, but my mother fancied that she had the one solution. She
felt that the mixed bloods who could pass for whites ought to organize
and cultivate unswerving devotion to the Negro race. According to her
plan the mixed bloods thus taught should be sent into the life of the
white people to work quietly year after year to break down the Southern
white man's idea of the Negro's rights. She felt that the mixed bloods
should lay hold of every center of power that could be reached. She set
for herself the task of controlling the pulpit, the social circle and
the politics of Almaville and eventually of the whole South and the
nation. O she had grand, wild dreams! If she had succeeded in her
efforts to utilize members of her own family, she had planned to
organize the mixed bloods of the nation and effect an organization
composed of cultured men and women that could readily pass for white,
who were to shake the Southern system to its very foundation. With this
general end in view, she had her son trained for the ministry. This son
became an eloquent preacher. My mother through a forged recommendation,
which, however, the son did not know to be forged, had him chosen as
pastor of a leading church in this city.
"My mother had a strange power over most people and a peculiar power
over my brother. He did not at all relish his peculiar situation, but my
mother insisted that he was but obeying the scriptural injunction to
preach the gospel to every creature. The minister in question was none
other than the universally esteemed Rev. Percy G. Marshall, who now
rests in a highly honored grave in your most exclusive cemetery, from
which Negroes are barred as visitors."
There was a marked sensation in the court room at this announcement
concerning the racial affinity of the Rev. Percy G. Marshall.
"I visited my brother clandestinely; often he and I sorrowed together.
On the night of the murder, which you all remember, and preceding that
sad event, closely veiled I visited him at his study. When we were
through talking I arose to go and opened the door. 'Kiss your brother.
We may not meet again,' said he sadly. Neglecting to close the door I
stepped up to him and kissed him. When I turned to go out I saw that Gus
Martin, whom Leroy Crutcher, as I afterwards found out, had set to
watching me, had seen us kiss each other. I hurried on home embarrassed
that I could not explain the situation to him. When on the next day I
read of my brother's death, I immediately guessed all. That is how I had
the key to bringing Gus Martin to terms. When he found out his awful
mistake he was willing to surrender.
"So resulted my mother's plans for the mastery of your Southern pulpit."
Turning to Eunice, she said, "There is her daughter. Through her my
mother hoped to lay hold on the political power of the state. But that
girl loved a Negro, the son of the prosecutor, the Hon. H. G. Volrees
[sensation in the court].
"After leaving her husband, Eunice came to live with me. Earl Bluefield,
who is Mr. Volrees' son [decided sensation] was wounded in a scuffle
that was not so much to his credit, and he was brought to my house to
recover. Eunice waited on him. They fell in love, left my home and
married. This explains how that boy favors the Hon. Mr. Volrees. It is
his grandson."
Tiara now stood up and said, "Mr. Judge, it may not be regular, but
permit me to say a few words."
The whole court seemed under a spell and nobody stirred as Tiara spoke.
"My mother is dead and paid dearly for her unnatural course. But do not
judge her too harshly. You people who are white do not know what an
awful burden it is to be black in these days of the world. If some break
down beneath the awful load of caste which you thrust upon them, mingle
pity with your blame."
Tiara paused an instant and then resumed:
"One word to you all. I am aware of the fact that the construction of a
social fabric, such as your Anglo-Saxondom, has been one of the
marvelous works of nature, and I realize that the maintenance of its
efficiency for the stupendous world duties that lie before it demand
that you have strict regard to the physical, mental and moral
characteristics that go to constitute your aggregation. But I warn you
to beware of the dehumanizing influence of caste. It will cause your
great race to be warped, to be narrow. Oratory will decay in your midst;
poetry will disappear or dwell in mediocrity, taking on a mocking sound
and a metallic ring; art will become formal, lacking in spirit; huge
soulless machines will grow up that will crush the life out of humanity;
conditions will become fixed and there will be no way for those who are
down to rise. Hope will depart from the bosoms of the masses. You will
be a great but a soulless race. This will come upon you when your heart
is cankered with caste. You will devour the Negro to-day, the humbler
white to-morrow, and you who remain will then turn upon yourselves."
Tiara paused and glanced around the court room as if to see how much
sympathy she could read in the countenances of her hearers. The rapt
attention, the kindly look in their eyes gave her courage to take up a
question which the situation in the South made exceedingly delicate,
when one's audience was composed of Southern white people.
"One thing, Mr. Judge, wells up in me at this time, and I suppose I will
have to say it, unless you stop me," said Tiara, in the tone of one
asking a question.
The judge made no reply and Tiara interpreted his silence to mean that
she was permitted to proceed.
Said she: "You white people have seen fit to make the Negro a stranger
to your social life and you further decree that he shall ever be thus.
You know that this weakens his position in the governmental fabric. The
fact that he is thus excluded puts a perennial question mark after him.
Furthermore the social influence is a tremendous force in the affairs of
men, as all history teaches. To all that goes to constitute this
powerful factor in your life as a people, you have seen fit to pronounce
the Negro a stranger. The pride of the Negro race has risen to the
occasion and there is a thorough sentiment in that race in favor of
racial integrity.
"So, by your decree and the cordial acceptance thereof by the Negro, he
is to be a stranger to your social system. That is settled. The very
fact that the Negro occupies an inherently weak position in your
communal life makes it incumbent upon you to provide safeguards for him.
"Instead, therefore, of the Negro's absence from the social circle being
a warrant for his exclusion from political functions, it is an argument
in favor of granting full political opportunity to him. When a man loses
one eye, nature strengthens the other for its added responsibility. Just
so, logically, it seems absurd to hold that the Negro should suffer the
loss of a second power because he is shut out from the use of a first.
[Illustration: "'Don't circumscribe the able, noble souls among the
Negroes. Give them the world as a playground for their
talents and let Negro men dream of stars as do your men.'"
(234-235.)]
"Your Bible says: 'And if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye
shall not vex him.' White friends of the South! Let me beseech you to
vex not this social stranger within your borders; the stranger who
invades your swamps and drains them into his system for your comfort;
who creeps through the slime of your sewers; who wrestles with the heat
in your ditches and fields; who has borne your onerous burdens and
cheered you with his song as he toiled; who has never heard the war
whoop but that he has prepared for battle; whose one hope is to be
allowed to live in peace by your side and develop his powers and those
of his children that they may be factors in making of this land, the
greatest in goodness in all this world. Don't circumscribe the able,
noble souls among the Negroes. Give them the world as a playground for
their talents and let Negro men dream of stars as do your men. They need
that as much as you do. As for me, I shall leave your land."
Turning to Eunice, Tiara stretched forth her hands, appealingly and
said, "Sister, come let us leave this country! Come."
"Ha! ha!" laughed Eunice, with almost maniacal intensity, as she waved
her hand in disdain at Tiara, who now slowly left the witness stand.
All eyes were now turned toward Eunice, who had arisen and stood trying
to drive away the passions of rage that seemed to clutch her vocal cords
so that she could not speak. At last getting sufficient strength to
begin, she said:
"Honorable Judge and you jurymen: I declare to you all to-day that I am
a white woman. My blood is the blood of the whites, my instincts, my
feelings, my culture, my spirit, my all is cast in the same mould as
yours. That woman who talked to you a few moments ago is a Negro. Don't
honor her word above mine, the word of a white woman. I invoke your law
of caste. Look at me! Look at my boy! In what respect do we differ from
you?"
She paused and drawing her small frame to its full height, with her
hands outstretched across the railing, with hot scalding tears coursing
down her cheeks, she said in tremulous tones:
"And now, gentlemen, I came here hoping to be acquitted, but in view of
the statements made I want no acquittal. Your law prescribes, so I am
told, that there can be no such thing as a marriage between whites and
Negroes. To acquit me will be to say that I am a Negro woman and could
not have married a white man. I implore you to convict me! Send me to
prison! Let me wear a felon's garb! Let my son know that his mother is a
convict, but in the name of heaven I ask you, send not my child and me
into Negro life. Send us not to a race cursed with petty jealousies, the
burden bearers of the world. My God! the thought of being called a Negro
is awful, awful!"
Eunice's words were coming fast and she was now all but out of breath.
After an instant's pause, she began:
"One word more. For argument's sake, grant that I have some Negro blood
in me. You already make a mistake in making a gift of your blood to the
African. Remember what your blood has done. It hammered out on fields
of blood the Magna Charta; it took the head of Charles I.; it shattered
the sceptre of George III.; it now circles the globe in an iron grasp.
Think you not that this Anglo-Saxon blood loses its virility because of
mixture with Negro blood. Ah! remember Frederick Douglass, he who as
much as any other mortal brought armies to your doors that sacked your
home. I plead with you, even if you accept that girl's malicious
slanders as being true, not to send your blood back to join forces with
the Negro blood."
Eunice threw an arm around her boy, who had arisen and was clutching her
skirts. She parted her lips as if to speak farther, then settled back in
her seat and closed her pretty blue eyes. Her tangled locks fell over
her forehead and the audience looked in pity at the tired pretty girl.
Eunice's attorneys waived their rights to speak and the attorney for the
prosecution stated that he, too, would now submit the case without
argument.
"Without further formality the jury will take this case under
advisement. You need no charge from me. You are all Anglo-Saxons," said
the judge solemnly in a low tone of voice.
The jury filed into the jury room and began its deliberations. A tall,
white haired man, foreman of the jury, arose and spoke as follows:
"Gentlemen: We have a sad case before us to-day. That girl has the white
person's feelings and it seems cruel to crush her and drive her from
those for whom she has the most affinity to those whom she is least
like. Then, I pity the boy. He carries in his veins some of our proudest
blood, and it seems awful to cast away our own. But we must stand by our
rule. One drop of Negro blood makes its possessor a Negro.
"Our great race stands in juxtaposition with overwhelming millions of
darker people throughout the earth, and we must cling to the caste idea
if we would prevent a lapse that would taint our blood and eventually
undermine our greatness. It is hard, but it is civilization. We cannot
find this girl guilty. It would be declaring that marriage between a
white man and a Negro woman is a possibility."
A vote was taken and the jury returned to the court room to render the
verdict. "The prisoner at the bar will stand up," said the judge. Eunice
stood up and her little boy stood up as well. There was the element of
pathos in the standing up of that little boy, for the audience knew that
his destiny was involved in the case.
"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asked the judge.
"We have," replied the foreman.
"Please announce it."
The audience held its breath in painful suspense. Eunice directed her
burning gaze to the lips of the foreman, that she might, if possible,
catch his fateful words even before they were fully formed.
"We, the jury, find the prisoner not guilty."
"Murder!" wildly shrieked Eunice. "Doomed! Doomed! They call us Negroes,
my son, and everybody knows what that means!" Her tones of despair moved
every hearer.
The judge quietly shed a few tears and many another person in the
audience wept. The crowd filed out, leaving Eunice clasping her boy to
her bosom, mother and son mingling their tears together. Tiara lingered
in the corridor to greet Eunice when the latter should come out of the
room. She had thought to speak to her on this wise:
"Eunice, we have each other left. Let us be sisters as we were in the
days of our childhood."
But when Tiara confronted Eunice, the latter looked at her scornfully
and passed on. When Tiara somewhat timidly caught hold of her dress as
if to detain her, Eunice spat in her face and tore herself loose.