The Marrow of Tradition Read online

  XXVII

  THE VAGARIES OF THE HIGHER LAW

  Mr. Delamere went immediately to his grandson's room, which he enteredalone, closing and locking the door behind him. He had requested Ellisto wait in the carriage.

  The bed had been made, and the room was apparently in perfect order.There was a bureau in the room, through which Mr. Delamere proceeded tolook thoroughly. Finding one of the drawers locked, he tried it with akey of his own, and being unable to unlock it, took a poker from besidethe stove and broke it ruthlessly open.

  The contents served to confirm what he had heard concerning hisgrandson's character. Thrown together in disorderly confusion werebottles of wine and whiskey; soiled packs of cards; a dice-box withdice; a box of poker chips, several revolvers, and a number ofphotographs and paper-covered books at which the old gentleman merelyglanced to ascertain their nature.

  So far, while his suspicion had been strengthened, he had found nothingto confirm it. He searched the room more carefully, and found, in thewood-box by the small heating-stove which stood in the room, a torn andcrumpled bit of paper. Stooping to pick this up, his eye caught a gleamof something yellow beneath the bureau, which lay directly in his lineof vision.

  First he smoothed out the paper. It was apparently the lower half of alabel, or part of the cover of a small box, torn diagonally from cornerto corner. From the business card at the bottom, which gave the name, ofa firm of manufacturers of theatrical supplies in a Northern city, andfrom the letters remaining upon the upper and narrower half, the bit ofpaper had plainly formed part of the wrapper of a package of burnt cork.

  Closing his fingers spasmodically over this damning piece of evidence,Mr. Delamere knelt painfully, and with the aid of his cane drew out fromunder the bureau the yellow object which, had attracted his attention.It was a five-dollar gold piece of a date back toward the beginning ofthe century.

  To make assurance doubly sure, Mr. Delamere summoned the cook from thekitchen in the back yard. In answer to her master's questions, Sallyaverred that Mr. Tom had got up very early, had knocked at herwindow,--she slept in a room off the kitchen in the yard,--and had toldher that she need not bother about breakfast for him, as he had had acold bite from the pantry; that he was going hunting and fishing, andwould be gone all day. According to Sally, Mr. Tom had come in about teno'clock the night before. He had forgotten his night-key, Sandy was out,and she had admitted him with her own key. He had said that he was verytired and was going, immediately to bed.

  Mr. Delamere seemed perplexed; the crime had been committed later in theevening than ten o'clock. The cook cleared up the mystery.

  "I reckon he must 'a' be'n dead ti'ed, suh, fer I went back ter his roomfifteen er twenty minutes after he come in fer ter fin' out w'at hewanted fer breakfus'; an' I knock' two or three times, rale ha'd, an'Mistuh Tom didn' wake up no mo' d'n de dead. He sho'ly had a goodsleep, er he'd never 'a' got up so ea'ly."

  "Thank you, Sally," said Mr. Delamere, when the woman had finished,"that will do."

  "Will you be home ter suppah, suh?" asked the cook.

  "Yes."

  It was a matter of the supremest indifference to Mr. Delamere whether heshould ever eat again, but he would not betray his feelings to aservant. In a few minutes he was driving rapidly with Ellis toward theoffice of the Morning Chronicle. Ellis could see that Mr. Delamere haddiscovered something of tragic import. Neither spoke. Ellis gave all hisattention to the horses, and Mr. Delamere remained wrapped in his ownsombre reflections.

  When they reached the office, they were informed by Jerry that MajorCarteret was engaged with General Belmont and Captain McBane. Mr.Delamere knocked peremptorily at the door of the inner office, which wasopened by Carteret in person.

  "Oh, it is you, Mr. Delamere."

  "Carteret," exclaimed Mr. Delamere, "I must speak to you immediately,and alone."

  "Excuse me a moment, gentlemen," said Carteret, turning to those withinthe room. "I'll be back in a moment--don't go away."

  Ellis had left the room, closing the door behind him. Mr. Delamere andCarteret were quite alone.

  "Carteret," declared the old gentleman, "this murder must not takeplace."

  "'Murder' is a hard word," replied the editor, frowning slightly.

  "It is the right word," rejoined Mr. Delamere, decidedly. "It would be afoul and most unnatural murder, for Sandy did not kill Mrs. Ochiltree."

  Carteret with difficulty restrained a smile of pity. His old friend wasvery much excited, as the tremor in his voice gave proof. The criminalwas his trusted servant, who had proved unworthy of confidence. No onecould question Mr. Delamere's motives; but he was old, his judgment wasno longer to be relied upon. It was a great pity that he should soexcite and overstrain himself about a worthless negro, who had forfeitedhis life for a dastardly crime. Mr. Delamere had had two paralyticstrokes, and a third might prove fatal. He must be dealt with gently.

  "Mr. Delamere," he said, with patient tolerance, "I think you aredeceived. There is but one sure way to stop this execution. If yourservant is innocent, you must produce the real criminal. If the negro,with such overwhelming proofs against him, is not guilty, who is?"

  "I will tell you who is," replied Mr. Delamere. "The murderer is,"--thewords came with a note of anguish, as though torn from his veryheart,--"the murderer is Tom Delamere, my own grandson!"

  "Impossible, sir!" exclaimed Carteret, starting back involuntarily."That could not be! The man was seen leaving the house, and he wasblack!"

  "All cats are gray in the dark, Carteret; and, moreover, nothing iseasier than for a white man to black his face. God alone knows how manycrimes have been done in this guise! Tom Delamere, to get the money topay his gambling debts, committed this foul murder, and then tried tofasten it upon as honest and faithful a soul as ever trod the earth."

  Carteret, though at first overwhelmed by this announcement, perceivedwith quick intuition that it might easily be true. It was but a stepfrom fraud to crime, and in Delamere's need of money there lay apalpable motive for robbery,--the murder may have been an afterthought.Delamere knew as much about the cedar chest as the negro could haveknown, and more.

  But a white man must not be condemned without proof positive.

  "What foundation is there, sir," he asked, "for this astounding charge?"

  Mr. Delamere related all that had taken place since he had leftBelleview a couple of hours before, and as he proceeded, step by step,every word carried conviction to Carteret. Tom Delamere's skill as amimic and a negro impersonator was well known; he had himself laughed atmore than one of his performances. There had been a powerful motive, andMr. Delamere's discoveries had made clear the means. Tom's unusualdeparture, before breakfast, on a fishing expedition was a suspiciouscircumstance. There was a certain devilish ingenuity about the affairwhich he would hardly have expected of Tom Delamere, but for which thereason was clear enough. One might have thought that Tom would have beensatisfied with merely blacking his face, and leaving to chance theidentification of the negro who might be apprehended. He would hardlyhave implicated, out of pure malignity, his grandfather's old servant,who had been his own care-taker for many years. Here, however, Carteretcould see where Tom's own desperate position operated to furnish aprobable motive for the crime. The surest way to head off suspicion fromhimself was to direct it strongly toward some particular person, andthis he had been able to do conclusively by his access to Sandy'sclothes, his skill in making up to resemble him, and by the episode ofthe silk purse. By placing himself beyond reach during the next day, hewould not be called upon to corroborate or deny any inculpatingstatements which Sandy might make, and in the very probable case thatthe crime should be summarily avenged, any such statements on Sandy'spart would be regarded as mere desperate subterfuges of the murderer tosave his own life. It was a bad affair.

  "The case seems clear," said Carteret reluctantly but conclusively. "Andnow, what shall we do about it?"

  "I want you to print a handbill," said Mr. Delamer
e, "and circulate itthrough the town, stating that Sandy Campbell is innocent and TomDelamere guilty of this crime. If this is not done, I will go myself anddeclare it to all who will listen, and I will publicly disown thevillain who is no more grandson of mine. There is no deeper sink ofiniquity into which he could fall."

  Carteret's thoughts were chasing one another tumultuously. There couldbe no doubt that the negro was innocent, from the present aspect ofaffairs, and he must not be lynched; but in what sort of position wouldthe white people be placed, if Mr. Delamere carried out his Spartanpurpose of making the true facts known? The white people of the city hadraised the issue of their own superior morality, and had themselves madethis crime a race question. The success of the impending "revolution,"for which he and his _confreres_ had labored so long, depended in largemeasure upon the maintenance of their race prestige, which would beinjured in the eyes of the world by such a fiasco. While they might yetwin by sheer force, their cause would suffer in the court of morals,where they might stand convicted as pirates, instead of being applaudedas patriots. Even the negroes would have the laugh on them,--the peoplewhom they hoped to make approve and justify their own despoilment. To belaughed at by the negroes was a calamity only less terrible than failureor death.

  Such an outcome of an event which had already been heralded to the fourcorners of the earth would throw a cloud of suspicion upon the storiesof outrage which had gone up from the South for so many years, and haddone so much to win the sympathy of the North for the white South and toalienate it from the colored people. The reputation of the race wasthreatened. They must not lynch the negro, and yet, for the credit ofthe town, its aristocracy, and the race, the truth of this ghastly storymust not see the light,--at least not yet.

  "Mr. Delamere," he exclaimed, "I am shocked and humiliated. The negromust be saved, of course, but--consider the family honor."

  "Tom is no longer a member of my family. I disown him. He has coveredthe family name--my name, sir--with infamy. We have no longer a familyhonor. I wish never to hear his name spoken again!"

  For several minutes Carteret argued with his old friend. Then he wentinto the other room and consulted with General Belmont. As a result ofthese conferences, and of certain urgent messages sent out, within halfan hour thirty or forty of the leading citizens of Wellington weregathered in the Morning Chronicle office. Several other curious persons,observing that there was something in the wind, and supposing correctlythat it referred to the projected event of the evening, crowded in withthose who had been invited.

  Carteret was in another room, still arguing with Mr. Delamere. "It's amere formality, sir," he was saying suavely, "accompanied by a mentalreservation. We know the facts; but this must be done to justify us, inthe eyes of the mob, in calling them off before they accomplish theirpurpose."

  "Carteret," said the old man, in a voice eloquent of the strugglethrough which he had passed, "I would not perjure myself to prolong myown miserable existence another day, but God will forgive a sincommitted to save another's life. Upon your head be it, Carteret, andnot on mine!"

  "Gentlemen," said Carteret, entering with Mr. Delamere the room wherethe men were gathered, and raising his hand for silence, "the people ofWellington were on the point of wreaking vengeance upon a negro who wassupposed to have been guilty of a terrible crime. The white men of thiscity, impelled by the highest and holiest sentiments, were about to takesteps to defend their hearthstones and maintain the purity andascendency of their race. Your purpose sprung from hearts wounded intheir tenderest susceptibilities."

  "'Rah, 'rah!" shouted a tipsy sailor, who had edged in with the crowd.

  "But this same sense of justice," continued Carteret oratorically,"which would lead you to visit swift and terrible punishment upon theguilty, would not permit you to slay an innocent man. Even a negro, aslong as he behaves himself and keeps in his place, is entitled to theprotection of the law. We may be stern and unbending in the punishmentof crime, as befits our masterful race, but we hold the scales ofjustice with even and impartial hand."

  "'Rah f' 'mpa'tial ban'!" cried the tipsy sailor, who was immediatelyejected with slight ceremony.

  "We have discovered, beyond a doubt, that the negro Sandy Campbell, nowin custody, did not commit this robbery and murder, but that it wasperpetrated by some unknown man, who has fled from the city. Ourvenerable and distinguished fellow townsman, Mr. Delamere, in whoseemployment this Campbell has been for many years, will vouch for hischaracter, and states, furthermore, that Campbell was with him all lastnight, covering any hour at which this crime could have been committed."

  "If Mr. Delamere will swear to that," said some one in the crowd, "thenegro should not be lynched."

  There were murmurs of dissent. The preparations had all been made. Therewould be great disappointment if the lynching did not occur.

  "Let Mr. Delamere swear, if he wants to save the nigger," came againfrom the crowd.

  "Certainly," assented Carteret. "Mr. Delamere can have no possibleobjection to taking the oath. Is there a notary public present, or ajustice of the peace?"

  A man stepped forward. "I am a justice of the peace," he announced.

  "Very well, Mr. Smith," said Carteret, recognizing the speaker. "Withyour permission, I will formulate the oath, and Mr. Delamere may repeatit after me, if he will. I solemnly swear,"--

  "I solemnly swear,"--

  Mr. Delamere's voice might have come from the tomb, so hollow andunnatural did it sound.

  "So help me God,"--

  "So help me God,"--

  "That the negro Sandy Campbell, now in jail on the charge of murder,robbery, and assault, was in my presence last night between the hours ofeight and two o'clock."

  Mr. Delamere repeated this statement in a firm voice; but to Ellis, whowas in the secret, his words fell upon the ear like clods dropping uponthe coffin in an open grave.

  "I wish to add," said General Belmont, stepping forward, "that it is notour intention to interfere, by anything which may be done at thismeeting, with the orderly process of the law, or to advise theprisoner's immediate release. The prisoner will remain in custody, Mr.Delamere, Major Carteret, and I guaranteeing that he will be provedentirely innocent at the preliminary hearing to-morrow morning."

  Several of those present looked relieved; others were plainly,disappointed; but when the meeting ended, the news went out that thelynching had been given up. Carteret immediately wrote and had struckoff a handbill giving a brief statement of the proceedings, and sent outa dozen boys to distribute copies among the people in the streets. Thatno precaution might be omitted, a call was issued to the WellingtonGrays, the crack independent military company of the city, who in anincredibly short time were on guard at the jail. Thus a slight changein the point of view had demonstrated the entire ability of the leadingcitizens to maintain the dignified and orderly processes of the lawwhenever they saw fit to do so.

  * * * * *

  The night passed without disorder, beyond the somewhat rough handling oftwo or three careless negroes that came in the way of small parties ofthe disappointed who had sought alcoholic consolation.

  At ten o'clock the next morning, a preliminary hearing of the chargeagainst Campbell was had before a magistrate. Mr. Delamere, perceptiblyolder and more wizened than he had seemed the day before, and leaningheavily on the arm of a servant, repeated his statement of the eveningbefore. Only one or two witnesses were called, among whom was Mr. Ellis,who swore positively that in his opinion the prisoner was not the manwhom he had seen and at first supposed to be Campbell. The mostsensational piece of testimony was that of Dr. Price, who had examinedthe body, and who swore that the wound in the head was not necessarilyfatal, and might have been due to a fall,--that she had more than likelydied of shock attendant upon the robbery, she being of advanced age andfeeble health. There was no evidence, he said, of any other personalviolence.

  Sandy was not even bound over to the grand jury, but was discharged upon
the ground that there was not sufficient evidence upon which to holdhim. Upon his release he received the congratulations of many present,some of whom would cheerfully have done him to death a few hours before.With the childish fickleness of a mob, they now experienced asatisfaction almost as great as, though less exciting than, thatattendant upon taking life. We speak of the mysteries of inanimatenature. The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery ofthe universe. One moment they make us despair of our kind, and the nextwe see in them the reflection of the divine image. Sandy, having thusescaped from the Mr. Hyde of the mob, now received the benediction ofits Dr. Jekyll. Being no cynical philosopher, and realizing how nearlythe jaws of death had closed upon him, he was profoundly grateful forhis escape, and felt not the slightest desire to investigate orcriticise any man's motives.

  With the testimony of Dr. Price, the worst feature of the affair came toan end. The murder eliminated or rendered doubtful, the crime became amere vulgar robbery, the extent of which no one could estimate, since noliving soul knew how much money Mrs. Ochiltree had had in the cedarchest. The absurdity of the remaining charge became more fully apparentin the light of the reaction from the excitement of the day before.

  Nothing further was ever done about the case; but though the crime wentunpunished, it carried evil in its train. As we have seen, the chargeagainst Campbell had been made against the whole colored race. All overthe United States the Associated Press had flashed the report of anotherdastardly outrage by a burly black brute,--all black brutes it seems areburly,--and of the impending lynching with its prospective horrors. Thisnews, being highly sensational in its character, had been displayed inlarge black type on the front pages of the daily papers. The dispatchthat followed, to the effect that the accused had been found innocentand the lynching frustrated, received slight attention, if any, in afine-print paragraph on an inside page. The facts of the case never cameout at all. The family honor of the Delameres was preserved, and theprestige of the white race in Wellington was not seriously impaired.

  * * * * *

  Upon leaving the preliminary hearing, old Mr. Delamere had requestedGeneral Belmont to call at his house during the day upon professionalbusiness. This the general did in the course of the afternoon.

  "Belmont," said Mr. Delamere, "I wish to make my will. I should havedrawn it with my own hand; but you know my motives, and can testify tomy soundness of mind and memory."

  He thereupon dictated a will, by the terms of which he left to hisservant, Sandy Campbell, three thousand dollars, as a mark of thetestator's appreciation of services rendered and sufferings endured bySandy on behalf of his master. After some minor dispositions, the wholeremainder of the estate was devised to Dr. William Miller, in trust forthe uses of his hospital and training-school for nurses, on conditionthat the institution be incorporated and placed under the management ofcompetent trustees. Tom Delamere was not mentioned in the will.

  "There, Belmont," he said, "that load is off my mind. Now, if you willcall in some witnesses,--most of my people can write,--I shall feelentirely at ease."

  The will was signed by Mr. Delamere, and witnessed by Jeff and Billy,two servants in the house, neither of whom received any information asto its contents, beyond the statement that they were witnessing theirmaster's will. "I wish to leave that with you for safe keeping,Belmont," said Mr. Delamere, after the witnesses had retired. "Lock itup in your safe until I die, which will not be very long, since I haveno further desire to live."

  An hour later Mr. Delamere suffered a third paralytic stroke, from whichhe died two days afterwards, without having in the meantime recoveredthe power of speech.

  The will was never produced. The servants stated, and General Belmontadmitted, that Mr. Delamere had made a will a few days before his death;but since it was not discoverable, it seemed probable that the testatorhad destroyed it. This was all the more likely, the general was inclinedto think, because the will had been of a most unusual character. Whatthe contents of the will were, he of course did not state, it havingbeen made under the seal of professional secrecy.

  This suppression was justified by the usual race argument: Miller'shospital was already well established, and, like most negroinstitutions, could no doubt rely upon Northern philanthropy for anyfurther support it might need. Mr. Delamere's property belonged of rightto the white race, and by the higher law should remain in the possessionof white people. Loyalty to one's race was a more sacred principle thandeference to a weak old man's whims.

  Having reached this conclusion, General Belmont's first impulse was todestroy the will; on second thoughts he locked it carefully away in hissafe. He would hold it awhile. It might some time be advisable to talkthe matter over with young Delamere, who was of a fickle disposition andmight wish to change his legal adviser.