“And do you mean to tell me that you really stole these things from
Jones?” said Mr. Terrell, after he had talked a little with his client.
“Well, suh,” replied Ananias, unabashed, “I didn’t zackly steal um, suh,
but I tuck um; I des tuck um, suh.”
“What call had you to steal from Jones? Weren’t you working for Colonel
Flewellen? Didn’t he feed you?” inquired the lawyer. Ananias shifted
about from one foot to the other, and whipped his legs with his shabby
hat, which he held in his hand. Lawyer Terrell, seated in a comfortable
chair, and thoroughly at his ease, regarded the negro curiously. There
appeared to be a pathetic element even in Ananias’s manner.
“Well, suh,” he said, after a while, seeing that he could not escape from
the confession, “ef I hadn’t a-tuck dem things fum Marse Wash Jones,
my Marster en my young mistiss would ’a’ sot dar en bodaciously starve
deyse’f ter deff. I done seed dat, suh. Dey wuz too proud ter tell folks
dey wuz dat bad off, suh, en dey’d ’a sot dar, en des bodaciously starve
deyse’f ter deff, suh. All dey lifetime, suh, dey bin use ter havin’ deir
vittles put right on de table whar dey kin git it, en w’en de farmin’
days done gone, suh, dey wa’n’t nobody but Ananias fer put de vittles
dar; en I des hatter scuffle ’roun’ en git it de bes’ way I kin. I
’spec’, suh,” Ananias went on, his countenance brightening up a little,
“dat ef de wuss had a-come ter de wuss, I’d ’a’ stole de vittles; but I
’ain’t had ter steal it, suh; I des went en tuck it fum Marse Wash Jones,
kaze it come off’n Marster’s lan’, suh.”
“Why, the land belongs to Jones,” said Lawyer Terrell.
“Dat w’at dey say, suh; but eve’y foot er dat lan’ b’longded ter de
Flewellen fambly long ’fo’ Marse Wash Jones’ daddy sot up a hat-shop
in de neighborhoods. I dunner how Marse Wash git dat lan’, suh; I know
it b’longded in de Flewellen fambly sence ’way back, en dey got deir
graveyard dar yit.”
Lawyer Terrell’s unusually stern face softened a little. He saw that
Ananias was in earnest, and his sympathies were aroused. He had some
further conversation with the negro, questioning him in regard to a
great many things that assumed importance in the trial.
When Lawyer Terrell and his client returned to the court-room they
found it filled with spectators. Somehow, it became generally known
that the great advocate was to defend Ananias, and a large crowd of
people had assembled to watch developments. In some way the progress of
Ananias and the deputy-sheriff through the crowd that filled all the
aisles and doorways had been delayed; but when the negro, forlorn and
wretched-looking, made his appearance in the bar for the purpose of
taking a seat by his counsel, there was a general laugh. Instantly Lawyer
Terrell was upon his feet.
“May it please your honor, what _is_ the duty of the sheriff of this
county, if it is not to keep order in this court-room?”
The ponderous staff of the sheriff came down on the floor with a thump;
but it was unnecessary. Silence had fallen on the spectators with the
first words of the lawyer. The crowd knew that he was a game man, and
they admired him for it. His whole attitude, as he gazed at the people
around him, showed that he was full of fight. His heavy blond hair,
swept back from his high forehead, looked like the mane of a lion, and
his steel-gray eyes glittered under his shaggy and frowning brows.
The case of the State _versus_ Ananias Flewellen, _alias_ Ananias
Harper—a name he had taken since freedom—was called in due form. It was
observed that Lawyer Terrell was very particular to strike certain names
from the jury list, but this gave no clue to the line of his defense. The
first witness was Mr. Washington Jones, who detailed, as well as he knew
how, the circumstances of the various robberies of which he had been the
victim. He had suspected Ananias, but had not made his suspicions known
until he was sure,—until he had caught him stealing sweet-potatoes.
The cross-examination of the witness by Ananias’s counsel was severe. The
fact was gradually developed that Mr. Jones caught the negro stealing
potatoes at night; that the night was dark and cloudy; that he did not
actually catch the negro, but saw him; that he did not really see the
negro clearly, but knew “in reason” that it must be Ananias.
The fact was also developed that Mr. Jones was not alone when he saw
Ananias, but was accompanied by Mr. Miles Cottingham, a small farmer in
the neighborhood, who was well known all over the county as a man of
undoubted veracity and of the strictest integrity.
At this point Lawyer Terrell, who had been facing Mr. Jones with severity
painted on his countenance, seemed suddenly to recover his temper. He
turned to the listening crowd, and said, in his blandest tones, “Is Mr.
Miles Cottingham in the room?”
There was a pause, and then a small boy perched in one of the windows,
through which the sun was streaming, cried out, “He’s a-standin’ out
yander by the horse-rack.”
Whereupon a subpœna was promptly made out by the clerk of the court, and
the deputy sheriff, putting his head out of a window, cried:
“Miles G. Cottingham! Miles G. Cottingham! Miles G. Cottingham! Come into
court.”
Mr. Cottingham was fat, rosy, and cheerful. He came into court with such
a dubious smile on his face that his friends in the room were disposed to
laugh, but they remembered that Lawyer Terrell was somewhat intolerant
of these manifestations of good-humor. As for Mr. Cottingham himself, he
was greatly puzzled. When the voice of the court crier reached his ears
he was in the act of taking a dram, and, as he said afterward, he “come
mighty nigh drappin’ the tumbeler.” But he was not subjected to any such
mortification. He tossed off his dram in fine style, and went to the
court-house, where, as soon as he had pushed his way to the front, he was
met by Lawyer Terrell, who shook him heartily by the hand, and told him
his testimony was needed in order that justice might be done.
Then Mr. Cottingham was put on the stand as a witness for the defense.
“How old are you, Mr. Cottingham?” said Lawyer Terrell.
“Ef I make no mistakes, I’m a-gwine on sixty-nine,” replied the witness.
“Are your eyes good?”
“Well, sir, they er about ez good ez the common run; not so good ez they
mought be, en yit good enough fer me.”
“Did you ever see that negro before?” The lawyer pointed to Ananias.
“Which nigger? That un over there? Why, that’s thish yer God-forsakin’
Ananias. Ef it had a-bin any yuther nigger but Ananias I wouldn’t ’a’ bin
so certain and shore; bekaze sence the war they er all so mighty nigh
alike I can’t tell one from t’other sca’cely. All eckceppin’ of Ananias;
I’d know Ananias ef I met ’im in kingdom come wi’ his hair all swinjed
off.”
The jury betrayed symptoms of enjoying this testimony; seeing which, the
State’s attorney rose to his feet to protest.
“May it please the court”—
“One moment, your honor!” exclaimed Lawyer Terrell. Then, turning to the
witness: “Mr. Cottingham, were you with Mr. Jones when he was watching to
catch a thief who had been stealing from him?”
“Well, sir,” replied Mr. Cottingham, “I sot up wi’ him one night, but I
disremember in pertickler what night it wuz.”
“Did you see the thief?”
“Well, sir,” said Mr. Cottingham, in his deliberate way, looking around
over the court-room with a more judicial air than the judge on the bench,
“ef you push me close I’ll tell you. Ther wuz a consid’able flutterment
in the neighborhoods er whar we sot, an’ me an’ Wash done some mighty sly
slippin’ up en surrounderin’; but ez ter seein’ anybody, we didn’t see
’im. We heerd ’m a-scufflin’ an’ a-runnin’, but we didn’t ketch a glimpse
un ’im, nuther har ner hide.”
“Did Mr. Jones see him?”
“No more’n I did. I wuz right at Wash’s elbow. We heerd the villyun
a-runnin’, but we never seed ’im. Atterwards, when we got back ter the
house, Wash he ’lowed it must’a bin that nigger Ananias thar, an’ I
’lowed it jess mought ez well be Ananias ez any yuther nigger, bekaze you
know yourself—”
“That will do, Mr. Cottingham,” said Mr. Lawyer Terrell, blandly. The
State’s attorney undertook to cross-examine Mr. Cottingham; but he was
a blundering man, and the result of his cross-examination was simply a
stronger and more impressive repetition of Mr. Cottingham’s testimony.
After this, the solicitor was willing to submit the case to the jury
without argument, but Mr. Terrell said that if it pleased the court
he had a few words to say to the jury in behalf of his client. The
speech made by the State’s attorney was flat and stale, for he was not
interested in the case; but Lawyer Terrell’s appeal to the jury is still
remembered in Rockville. It was not only powerful, but inimitable; it
was humorous, pathetic, and eloquent. When he concluded, the jury, which
was composed mostly of middle-aged men, was in tears. The feelings of
the spectators were also wrought up to a very high pitch, and when the
jury found a verdict of “not guilty,” without retiring, the people in the
court-room made the old house ring again with applause.
And then something else occurred. Pressing forward through the crowd
came Colonel Benjamin Flewellen. His clothes were a trifle shabby, but
he had the air of a prince of the blood. His long white hair fell on his
shoulders, and his movements were as precise as those of a grenadier. The
spectators made way for him. Those nearest noticed that his eyes were
moist, and that his nether lip was a-tremble, but no one made any remark.
Colonel Flewellen pressed forward until he reached Ananias, who, scarcely
comprehending the situation, was sitting with his hands folded and his
head bent down. The colonel placed his hand on the negro’s shoulder.
“Come, boy,” he said, “let’s go home.”
“Me, Marster?” said the negro, looking up with a dazed expression. It
was the tone, and not the words, that Ananias heard.
“Yes, old fellow, your Miss Nelly will be waiting for us.”
“Name er God!” exclaimed Ananias, and then he arose and followed his old
master out of the court-room. Those who watched him as he went saw that
the tears were streaming down his face, but there was no rude laughter
when he made a futile attempt to wipe them off with his coat-tail. This
display of feeling on the part of the negro was somewhat surprising to
those who witnessed it, but nobody was surprised when Ananias appeared on
the streets a few days after with head erect and happiness in his face.