DOOM.
The village of Chestatee was crowded with visiters of all descriptions.
Judges and lawyers, soldiers and citizens and farmers--all classes were
duly represented, and a more wholesome and subordinate disposition in
that quarter, may be inferred as duly resulting from the crowd.
Curiosity brought many to the spot from portions of country twenty,
thirty, and even forty miles off--for, usually well provided with good
horses, the southron finds a difference of ten or twenty miles no great
matter.
Such had been the reputation of the region here spoken of, not less for
its large mineral wealth than for the ferocious character of those in
its neighborhood, that numbers, who would not otherwise have adventured,
now gladly took advantage of the great excitement, and the presence of
so many, to examine a section of country of which they had heard so
much. There came the planter, of rather more wealth than his neighbors,
solicitous for some excitement and novelty to keep himself from utter
stagnation. There came the farmer, discontented with his present
abiding-place, and in search of a new spot of more promise, in which to
drive stakes and do better. The lawyer, from a neighboring county, in
search of a cause; the creditor in search of his runaway debtor--the
judge and the jury also adding something, not less to the number than
the respectability of the throng.
The grand-jury had found several bills, and most of them for the more
aggravated offences in the estimation of the law. Rivers, Munro,
Blundell, Forrester, were all severally and collectively included in
their inquiries; but as none of the parties were to be found for the
present at least, as one of them had been removed to another and higher
jurisdiction, the case of most importance left for trial was that which
charged Colleton with Forrester's murder.
There was no occasion for delay; and, in gloomy and half-desponding
mood, though still erect and unshrinking to the eye of the beholder,
Ralph refused the privilege of a traverse, and instructed Pippin to go
on with the case. The lawyer himself had not the slightest objection to
this procedure, for, not to be harsh in our estimate of his humanities,
there is no reason to believe that he regarded for a single instant the
value of his client's life, but as its preservation was to confer credit
upon his capacity as his legal friend and adviser. The issue was
consequently made up without delay--the indictment was read--the
prisoner put himself upon God and the country, according to the usual
forms, and the case proceeded.
The general impression of the spectators was decidedly in favor of the
accused. His youth--the noble bearing--the ease, the unobtrusive
confidence--the gentle expression, pliant and, though sad, yet entirely
free from anything like desponding weakness--all told in his favor. He
was a fine specimen of the southern gentleman--the true nobleman of that
region, whose pride of character is never ostentatiously displayed and
is only to be felt in the influence which it invariably exercises over
all with whom it may have contact or connection. Though firm in every
expression, and manly in every movement, there was nothing in the habit
and appearance of Ralph, which, to the eye of those around, savored of
the murderer. There was nothing ruffianly or insincere. But, as the
testimony proceeded--when the degree of intimacy was shown which had
existed between himself and the murdered man--when they heard that
Forrester had brought him wounded and fainting to his home--had attended
him--had offered even to fight for him with Rivers; when all these facts
were developed, in connection with the sudden flight of the person so
befriended--on the same night with him who had befriended him--he having
a knowledge of the proposed departure of the latter-and with the finding
of the bloody dagger marked with the youth's initials--the feeling of
sympathy very perceptibly underwent a change. The people, proverbially
fickle, and, in the present instance justifiably so, veered round to the
opposite extreme of opinion, and a confused buzz around, sometimes made
sufficiently audible to all senses, indicated the unfavorable character
of the change. The witnesses were closely examined, and the story was
complete and admirably coherent. The presumptions, as they were coupled
together, were conclusive; and, when it was found that not a solitary
witness came forward even to say that the accused was a man of character
and good connections--a circumstance which could not materially affect
the testimony as it stood, but which, wanting, gave it additional
force--the unhappy youth, himself, felt that all was over.
A burning flush, succeeded by a deathlike paleness, came over his face
for a moment--construed by those around into a consciousness of guilt;
for, where the prejudices of men become active, all appearances of
change, which go not to affect the very foundation of the bias, are only
additional proofs of what they have before believed. He rested his head
upon his hands in deep but momentary agony. What were his feelings then?
With warm, pure emotions; with a pride only limited by a true sense of
propriety; with an ambition whose eye was sunward ever; with affections
which rendered life doubly desirable, and which made love a high and
holy aspiration: with these several and predominating feelings
struggling in his soul, to be told of such a doom; to be stricken from
the respect of his fellows; to forfeit life, and love, and reputation;
to undergo the punishment of the malefactor, and to live in memory only
as a felon--ungrateful, foolish, fiendish--a creature of dishonest
passions, and mad and merciless in their exercise!
The tide of thought which bore to his consciousness all these harrowing
convictions, was sudden as the wing of the lightning, and nearly
shattered, in that single instant, the towering manhood whose high
reachings had attracted it. But the pride consequent to his education,
and the society in which he had lived, came to his relief; and, after
the first dreadful agony of soul, he again stood erect, and listened,
seemingly unmoved, to the defences set up by his counsel.
But how idle, even to his mind, desirous as he must have been of every
species of defence, were all the vainglorious mouthings of the
pettifogger! He soon discovered that the ambition of Pippin chiefly
consisted in the utterance of his speech. He saw, too, in a little
while, that the nonsense of the lawyer had not even the solitary
merit--if such it be--of being extemporaneous; and in the slow and
monotonous delivery of a long string of stale truisms, not bearing any
analogy to the case in hand, he perceived the dull elaborations of the
closet.
But such was not the estimate of the lawyer himself. He knew what he was
about; and having satisfied himself that the case was utterly hopeless,
he was only solicitous that the people should see that he could still
make a speech. He well knew that his auditory, perfectly assured with
himself of the hopelessness of the defence, would give him the credit of
having made the most of his materials, and this was all he wanted. In
the course of his exhortations, however, he was unfortunate enough to
make an admission for his client which was, of itself, fatal; and his
argument thence became unnecessary. He admitted that the circumstances
sufficiently established the charge of killing, but proceeded, however,
to certain liberal assumptions, without any ground whatever, of
provocation on the part of Forrester, which made his murder only matter
of self-defence on the side of the accused, whose crime therefore became
justifiable: but Ralph, who had for some time been listening with
manifest impatience to sundry other misrepresentations, not equally evil
with this, but almost equally annoying, now rose and interrupted him;
and, though the proceeding was something informal, proceeded to correct
the statement.
"No one, may it please your honor, and you, gentlemen, now presiding
over my fate, can be more conscious than myself, from the nature of the
evidence given in this case, of the utter hopelessness of any defence
which may be offered on my behalf. But, while recognising, in their
fullest force, the strong circumstantial proofs of crime which you have
heard, I may be permitted to deny for myself what my counsel has been
pleased to admit for me. To say that I have _not_ been guilty of this
crime, is only to repeat that which was said when I threw myself upon
the justice of the country. I denied any knowledge of it then--I deny
any knowledge of, or participation in it, now. I am _not_ guilty of this
killing, whether with or without justification. The blood of the
unfortunate man Forrester is _not_ upon my hands; and, whatever may be
your decree this day, of this sweet consciousness nothing can deprive
me."
"I consider, may it please your honor, that my counsel, having virtually
abandoned my cause, I have the right to go on with it myself--"
But Pippin, who had been dreadfully impatient heretofore, started
forward with evident alarm.
"Oh, no--no, your honor--my client--Mr. Colleton--how can you think such
a thing? I have not, your honor, abandoned the case. On the contrary,
your honor will remember that it was while actually proceeding with the
case that I was interrupted."
The youth, with a singular degree of composure, replied:--
"Your honor will readily understand me, though the gentleman of the bar
does not. I conceive him not only to have abandoned the case, your
honor, but actually to have joined hand and hand with the prosecuting
counsel. It is true, sir, that he still calls himself _my_ counsel--and
still, under that name, presumes to harangue, as he alleges, in my
behalf; but, when he violates the truth, not less than my
instructions--when he declares all that is alleged against me in that
paper _to be true_, all of which I declare to be _false_--when he admits
me to be guilty of a crime of which I am _not_ guilty--I say that he has
not only abandoned my case, but that he has betrayed the trust reposed
in him. What, your honor, must the jury infer from the confession which
he has just made?--what, but that in my conference with him _I_ have
made the same confession? It becomes necessary, therefore, may it please
your honor, not only that I take from him, thus openly, the power which
I confided to him, but that I call upon your honor to demand from him,
upon oath, whether such an admission was ever made to him by me. I know
that my own words will avail me nothing here--I also know why they
should not--but I am surely entitled to require that he should speak
out, as to the truth, when _his_ misrepresentations are to make weight
against me in future. His oath, that I made no such confession to him,
will avail nothing for my defence, but will avail greatly with those
who, from present appearances, are likely to condemn me. I call upon
him, may it please your honor, as matter of right, that he should be
_sworn_ to this particular. This, your honor will perceive, if my
assertion be true, is the smallest justice which he can do me; beyond
this I will ask and suggest nothing--leaving it to your own mind how far
the license of his profession should be permitted to one who thus not
only abandons, but betrays and misrepresents his client."
The youth was silent, and Pippin rose to speak in his defence. Without
being sworn, he admitted freely that such a confession had not been
made, but that he had inferred the killing from the nature of the
testimony, which he thought conclusive on the point; that his object had
been to suggest a probable difficulty between the parties, in which he
would have shown Forrester as the aggressor. He bungled on for some time
longer in this manner, but, as he digressed again into the defence of
the accused, Ralph again begged to interrupt him.
"I think it important, may it please your honor, that the gentleman
should be sworn as to the simple fact which he has uttered. _I want it
on record_, that, at some future day, the few who have any interest in
my fate should feel no mortifying doubts of my innocence when reminded
of the occurrence--which this strange admission, improperly circulated,
might otherwise occasion. Let him swear, your honor, to the fact: this,
I think, I may require."
After a few moments of deliberation, his honor decided that the demand
was one of right, strictly due, not merely to the prisoner and to the
abstract merits of the case, but also to the necessity which such an
event clearly occasioned, of establishing certain governing principles
for restraining those holding situations so responsible, who should so
far wilfully betray their trusts. The lawyer was made to go through the
humiliating process, and then subjected to a sharp reprimand from the
judge; who, indeed, might have well gone further, in actually striking
his name from the rolls of court.
It was just after this interesting period in the history of the
trial--and when Pippin, who could not be made to give up the case, as
Ralph had required, was endeavoring to combat with the attorney of the
state some incidental points of doctrine, and to resist their
application to certain parts of the previously, recorded testimony--that
our heroine, Lucy Munro, attended by her trusty squire, Bunce, made her
appearance in the courthouse.
She entered the hall more dead than alive. The fire was no longer in her
eye--a thick haze had overspread its usually rich and lustrous
expression; her form trembled with the emotion--the strong and
struggling emotion of her soul; and fatigue had done much toward the
general enervation of her person. The cheek was pale with the innate
consciousness; the lips were blanched, and slightly parted, as if
wanting in the muscular exercise which could bring them together. She
tottered forward to the stand upon which the witnesses were usually
assembled, and to which her course had been directed, and for a few
moments after her appearance in the courtroom her progress had been as
one stunned by a sudden and severe blow.
But, when roused by the confused hum of human voices around her, she
ventured to look up, and her eye, as if by instinct, turned upon the
dark box assigned for the accused--she again saw the form, in her mind
and eye, of almost faultless mould and excellence--then there was no
more weakness, no more struggle. Her eye kindled, the color rushed into
her cheeks, a sudden spirit reinvigorated her frame; and, with clasped
hands, she boldly ascended the small steps which led to the stand from
which her evidence was to be given, and declared her ability, in low
tones, almost unheard but by the judge, to furnish matter of interest
and importance to the defence. Some little demur as to the formality of
such a proceeding, after the evidence had been fairly closed, took place
between the counsel; but, fortunately for justice, the judge was too
wise and too good a man to limit the course of truth to prescribed
rules, which could not be affected by a departure, in the present
instance, from their restraints. The objection was overruled, and the
bold but trembling girl was called upon for her testimony.
A new hope had been breathed into the bosoms of the parties most
concerned, on the appearance of this interruption to the headlong and
impelling force of the circumstances so fatally arrayed against the
prisoner. The pedler was overjoyed, and concluded that the danger was
now safely over. The youth himself felt his spirit much lighter in his
bosom, although he himself knew not the extent of that testimony in his
favor which Lucy was enabled to give. He only knew that she could
account for his sudden flight on the night of the murder, leading to a
fair presumption that he had not premeditated such an act; and knew not
that it was in her power to overthrow the only fact, among the
circumstances arrayed against him, by which they had been so connected
as to make out his supposed guilt.
Sanguine, herself, that the power was in her to effect the safety of the
accused, Lucy had not for a moment considered the effect upon others,
more nearly connected with her than the youth, of the development which
she was prepared to make. These considerations were yet to come.
The oath was administered; she began her narration, but at the very
outset, the difficulties of her situation beset her. How was she to save
the man she loved? How, but by showing the guilt of her uncle? How was
she to prove that the dirk of the youth was not in his possession at the
time of the murder? By showing that, just before that time, it was in
the possession of Munro, who was setting forth for the express purpose
of murdering the very man, now accused and held guilty of the same
crime. The fearful gathering of thoughts and images, thus, without
preparation, working in her mind, again destroyed the equilibrium by
which her truer senses would have enforced her determination to proceed.
Her head swam, her words were confused and incoherent, and perpetually
contradictory. The hope which her presence had inspired as suddenly
departed; and pity and doubt were the prevailing sentiments of the
spectators.
After several ineffectual efforts to proceed, she all at once seemed
informed of the opinions around her, and gathering new courage from the
dreadful thought now forcing itself upon her mind, that what she had
said had done nothing toward her object, she exclaimed impetuously,
advancing to the judge, and speaking alternately from him to the jury
and the counsel--
"He is _not_ guilty of this crime, believe me. I may not say what I
know--I can not--you would not expect me to reveal it. It would involve
others whom I dare not name. I must not say _that_--but, believe me, Mr.
Colleton is not guilty--he did not commit the murder--it was somebody
else--I know, I will swear, he had no hand in the matter."
"Very well, my young lady, I have no doubt you think, and honestly
believe, all that you say; but what reasons have you for this bold
assertion in the teeth of all the testimony which has already been
given? You must not be surprised, if we are slow in believing what you
tell us, until you can show upon what grounds you make your statement.
How know you that the prisoner did not commit this crime? Do you know
who did? Can you reveal any facts for our knowledge? This is what you
must do. Do not be terrified--speak freely--officer! a chair for the
lady--tell us all that you know--keep nothing back--remember, you are
sworn to speak _the truth_--the _whole truth_."
The judge spoke kindly and encouragingly, while, with considerable
emphasis, he insisted upon a full statement of all she knew. But the
distress of the poor girl increased with every moment of thought, which
warned her of the predicament in which such a statement must necessarily
involve her uncle. "Oh, how can I speak all this? How can I tell that
which must destroy him--"
"Him?--Of whom do you speak, lady? Who is _he_?" inquired the attorney
of the state.
"He--who?--Oh, no, I can say nothing. I can tell you nothing. I know
nothing but that Mr. Colleton is _not_ guilty. He struck no blow at
Forrester. I am sure of it--some other hand--some other person. How can
you believe that he would do so?"
There was no such charitable thought for him, however, in the minds of
those who heard--as how should there be? A whispering dialogue now took
place between the judge and the counsel, in which, while they evidently
looked upon her as little better than demented with her love for the
accused, they still appeared to hold it due to justice, not less than to
humanity, to obtain from her every particular of testimony bearing on
the case, which, by possibility, she might really have in her
possession. Not that they really believed that she knew anything which
might avail the prisoner. Regarding her as individually and warmly
interested in his life, they looked upon her appearance, and the
evidence which she tendered--if so it might be styled--as solely
intended to provoke sympathy, gain time, or, possibly, as the mere
ebullition of feelings so deeply excited as to have utterly passed the
bounds of all restraining reason. The judge, who was a good, not less
than a sensible man, undertook, in concluding this conference, to pursue
the examination himself, with the view to bringing out such portions of
her information as delicacy or some other more influential motive might
persuade her to conceal.
"You are sure, Miss Munro, of the innocence of the prisoner so sure that
you are willing to swear to it. Such is your conviction, at least; for,
unless you saw the blow given by another hand, or could prove Mr.
Colleton to have been elsewhere at the time of the murder, of course you
could not, of a certainty, swear to any such fact. You are not now to
say whether you believe him _capable_ of such an act or not. You are to
say whether you _know_ of any circumstances which shall acquit him of
the charge, or furnish a plausible reason, why others, not less than
yourself, should have a like reason with yourself to believe him
innocent. Can you do this, Miss Munro? Can you show anything, in this
chain of circumstances, against him, which, of your own knowledge, you
can say to be untrue? Speak out, young lady, and rely upon every
indulgence from the court."
Here the judge recapitulated all the evidence which had been furnished
against the prisoner. The maiden listened with close attention, and the
difficulties of her situation became more and more obvious. Finding her
slow to answer, though her looks were certainly full of meaning, the
presiding officer took another course for the object which he had in
view. He now proceeded to her examination in the following form:--
"You know the prisoner?"
"I do."
"You knew the murdered man?"
"Perfectly."
"Were they frequently together since the appearance of the prisoner in
these regions?"
"Frequently."
"At the house in which you dwell?"
"Yes."
"Were they together on the day preceding the night of the murder?"
"They were--throughout the better portion of it."
"Did they separate at your place of residence, and what was the
employment of the prisoner subsequently on the same day?"
"They did separate while at our house, Mr. Colleton retiring at an early
hour of the evening to his chamber."
"So far, Miss Munro, your answers correspond directly with the evidence,
and now come the important portions. You will answer briefly and
distinctly. After that, did you see anything more of the prisoner, and
know you of his departure from the house--the hour of the night--the
occasion of his going--and the circumstances attending it?"
These questions were, indeed, all important to the female delicacy of
the maiden, as well as to the prisoner, and as her eye sunk in
confusion, and as her cheek paled and kindled with the innate
consciousness, the youth, who had hitherto been silent, now rose, and
without the slightest hesitancy of manner, requested of the maiden that
she would say no more.
"See you not, your honor, that her mind wavers--that she speaks and
thinks wildly? I am satisfied that though she might say something, your
honor, in accounting for my strange flight, yet, as that constitutes but
a small feature in the circumstances against me, what she can allege
will avail me little. Press her no farther, therefore, I entreat you.
Let her retire. Her word can do me no good, and I would not, that, for
my sake and life, she should feel, for a single instant an embarrassment
of spirit, which, though it be honorable in its character, must
necessarily be distressing in its exercise. Proceed with your judgment,
I pray you--whatever it may be; I am now ready for the worst, and though
innocent as the babe unborn of the crime urged against me, I am not
afraid to meet its consequences. I am not unwilling to die."
"But you must _not_ die--they will not--they _can not_ find you guilty!
How know they you are guilty? Who dares say you are guilty, when _I_
know you are innocent? Did I not see you fly? Did I not send you on your
way--was it not to escape from murder yourself that you flew, and how
should you have been guilty of that crime of which you were the destined
victim yourself? Oh, no--no! you are not guilty--and the dagger--I heard
that!--that is not true--oh, no, the dagger,--you dropt it--"
The eye of the inspired girl was caught by a glance--a single
glance--from one at the opposite corner of the court-room, and that
glance brought her back to the full consciousness of the fearful
development she was about to make. A decrepit old woman, resting with
bent form upon a staff, which was planted firmly before her, seemed
wrapped in the general interest pervading the court. The woman was huge
of frame and rough of make; her face was large and swollen, and the
tattered cap and bonnet, the coarse and soiled materials which she wore,
indicated one of the humblest caste in the country. Her appearance
attracted no attention, and she was unmarked by all around; few having
eyes for anything but the exciting business under consideration.
But the disguise did not conceal her uncle from the glance of his niece.
That one look had the desired effect--the speech was arrested before its
conclusion, and the spectators, now more than ever assured of the
partial sanity of the witness, gave up any doubts which had previously
began to grow in behalf of the accused. A second look of the landlord
was emphatic enough for the purpose of completely silencing her farther
evidence. She read in its fearful expression, as plainly as if spoken in
words--"The next syllable you utter is fatal to your uncle--your father.
Now speak, Lucy, if you can."
For a single moment she was dumb and stationary--her eye turned from her
uncle to the prisoner. Horror, and the agonies natural to the strife in
her bosom, were in its wild expression, and, with a single cry of "I can
not--I must not save him!" from her pallid lips, she sunk down senseless
upon the floor, and was borne out by several of the more sympathizing
spectators.
There was nothing now to delay the action of the court. The counsel had
closed with the argument, and the judge proceeded in his charge to the
jury. His remarks were rather favorable than otherwise to the prisoner.
He dwelt upon his youth--his manliness--the seeming excellence of his
education, and the propriety which had marked his whole behavior on
trial. These he spoke of as considerations which must, of course, make
the duty, which they had to perform, more severely painful to all. But
they could not do away with the strong and tenacious combination of
circumstances against him. These were all closely knit, and all tended
strongly to the conviction of the guilt of the accused. Still they were
circumstantial; and the doubts of the jury were, of course, so many
arguments on the side of mercy. He concluded.
But the jury had no doubts. How should they doubt? They deliberated,
indeed, for form's sake, but not long. In a little while they returned
to their place, and the verdict was read by the clerk.
"Guilty."
"Guilty," responded the prisoner, and for a moment his head dropped upon
his clasped hands, and his frame shivered as with an ague.
"Guilty--guilty--Oh, my father--Edith--Edith--have I lived for this?"
There was no other sign of human weakness. He arose with composure, and
followed, with firm step, the officer to his dungeon. His only thought
was of the sorrows and the shame of others--of those of whom he had been
the passion and the pride--of that father's memory and name, of whom he
had been the cherished hope--of that maiden of whom he had been the
cherished love. His firm, manly bearing won the esteem of all those who,
nevertheless, at the same moment, had few if any doubts of the justice
of his doom.