FOOTNOTES:
[1] When he spoke of this fraternity, I then supposed he referred to some of the benevolent societies of the day.
CHAPTER VII.
In returning to my boarding-house I was met by the blackleg pettifogger, who treated me with great coldness. I met him again the next morning at the prison, and he treated me in like manner. But I was especially anxious to hear what more the colonel had to say, and hastened to his room. He began his account where he had left off.
"This man, who was dressed in disguise, was greatly alarmed, lest certain of his letters in the package should come to light, which had not been retained. He started for home, as stated by his son, but returned to secure his letters. You have witnessed the tremendous excitement which exists, the running to and fro, and the many strange visitors that frequent my room. There is a cause for all this which I will now relate.
"My brother sent for those papers, which, upon arrival, were submitted to his wife that she might select the most important to be produced as testimony in court against Taylor. In accordance with directions, she examined them all and laid aside all the business letters, (meaning the package lost,) which in some way have been mislaid or stolen. These, you are accused of having taken, and also of having taken a note that was reached through the grate by my brother, as he supposed to his wife, but it proved to be some other person, and they suspected you as that one. They also charge you with giving information as to the man who gave you five hundred dollars, and also that he used my name, saying at the same time, 'If you will swear that money on Taylor I will make you a rich man,' and that you concerted in this thing to act a deceitful part."
I replied: "I promised to take the money and swear according to directions, but it was not for any respect I had for the man who offered me a bribe, or the pecuniary compensation, but for you and your brother."
"Green," said he, "have no respect for my brother. He has not an honest heart. He would betray his own father, and be sure that you refuse to do what the pettifogger has advised." (See a full account in Gambling Unmasked.) "Green, take care, or you will lose your life. You have enemies that watch you closely. They also watch me, but I cannot help myself. I wish you well and believe you innocent."
This last was uttered in a suppressed and pathetic tone, and I perceived his eye was intently fixed upon mine as if he would read in its expression the secret workings of my heart. I was determined he should not effect his purpose, and managed to evade his glances.
"I am aware of their foul intentions," continued he, "but know not how to evade it. Green, I have all confidence in you as an honest boy, and do not think you would do any thing to injure me, but have thought you might have had a curiosity to know the contents of some of those letters, and have mislaid them with the intention of giving them back when you had read them."
I again protested my innocence, and solemnly declared I had no knowledge of the package.
"Then," exclaimed he, "I am a doomed man. There is no hope, and I will tell you the reason why.
"You know I have had many friends calling upon me, day by day, from all parts of the country. You have seen among them some of the most wealthy in the town of Lawrenceburgh. They are my sworn friends and all members of a Secret Society, which obligates each one, under a most solemn oath, to assist a brother member out of any difficulty, provided he has not violated his obligations. Now my brother has acted most imprudently in pledging himself to produce certain papers, and to bring other witnesses besides himself against Taylor. These men were apprehensive that we had mutually laid a trap to expose the whole band. This has involved me in the most unjust crimination. I am subjected to the charge of conspiracy, and hence you see how difficult it is to procure bail. It is true I have had promises from all parts of the Union, but my brother concerted, without reflecting upon the consequences of his conduct, to bring one thousand men, if necessary, to this city, who would be ready to do any thing he might direct. These men were brethren of the same band, but of a lower order, none of whom were possessed of wealth or extended influence. The others, who possessed both, were kept in silence, for fear of being betrayed or proving false to the fraternity of which they were members. That we are circumstanced as you see us at present, is not for the want of friends. They are abundant and powerful; we have them on sea and on land, and they are ready to assist us out of any difficulty, and would do it in a moment if assured that all was right on our part. You see the city is full of them—many have come to secure their letters, which they knew were in my possession, and if exposed, would bring upon them certain ruin,—but alas! they have come too late. You will notice I have had no visitors while I have been giving you this history. I told the steward to admit none but yourself. Be assured, Green, I have many friends, but they dare not act—they dare not help me and they dare not convict me. You may live to know the truth of what I am stating."
I inferred, from the last remark, that he had reference to the judiciary. I had noticed that during his two days' conversation, no person had visited the room but the physician and a certain judge who lived near Florence, Alabama, and the latter remained only a few minutes. I found out his name by seeing it written upon his hat lining, which had been placed upon the window opening on the piazza. After the judge had retired, the colonel resumed the conversation.
"I am accused by my friends with treachery to the brotherhood. They think that I, in concert with my brother, have laid a plan to clear ourselves by their downfall. When the news was out that the papers were lost, I saw the most marked indications of hostility. They came forward and pledged to bail me in any amount, provided I would return their letters, but swore that I should never go from this room alive, if I did not produce them. I am certain to suffer death. My sentence is fixed, and I have no hope. My brother and his advisers have ruined me. They have had me borne hither that I might not understand their plans. I am satisfied the papers are in the hands of the intimate friends of my brother and those who had manifested such an interest in my removal to this place. I have been reduced by medicine, and my inability to exercise—so contrary to my general habits—has seated a fatal disease upon my lungs."
His disease had been occasioned by the constant use of medicine, which exposed his system to cold, and this, by constant repetition, had entirely destroyed his constitution. I have no doubt that a slow poison was mingled in his medicine. When he had finished this tale of sorrow, he gave me some affectionate advice in something like the following words:
"Green, I advise you to leave the city as soon as possible. There are two parties of the 'secret band' that seek your life; those who are so much enraged at the loss of the papers, because their reputation, fortunes, and lives, are thereby in jeopardy, and those who are the personal friends of my brother, and who support him, do or say what he may. They take his word with the infallibility of law and gospel, and are by profession great friends of mine, as well as of the other party, who swear they will have those papers at all hazards, right or wrong; meaning if you have them, they will obtain them in some way; that if I have them they shall be returned. I therefore advise you to leave the city immediately."
I told him I had no funds.
"I have not one dollar," said he, "to help you off, or I would give it to you."
I told him I was under great obligations for his kindness. He further remarked:
"Now pledge me secrecy to what I have related, for it can have no effect in assisting you, and will ruin me."
I did so, and bade him farewell. I hastened to see Mr. Munger, and told him what the colonel had said about the counterfeit money and the money I had found by Sandford's note, but not a word as to the mysterious package.
CHAPTER VIII.
Shortly after the events detailed in the foregoing chapter, I had a conversation with Mr. Munger, who told me, he was satisfied that my life was in danger, and advised me to leave the city for a few weeks, or, at least, to change my boarding-place, and keep myself in seclusion. Accordingly, I changed my quarters as soon as possible. I could not well leave the city, as Mr. Munger informed me I must be present to appear in court when Taylor was tried, in case the younger brother acted the part he had promised; and if not, it would be equally important for me to be on hand, as they intended to indict him and his pettifogger, for their wicked designs upon the man they were endeavouring to ruin. As I could not go far out of the city, under these circumstances, I considered it more safe to remain concealed: I waited, therefore, several days, until the colonel's death, which occurred not long after I bade him farewell.
I had met Cunningham—the old man at first charged with having the package by Mrs. Brown—several times after the colonel had advised me to leave the city, and in our last interview, he gave me to understand that the colonel would never get out of his bed alive, or leave the hospital, except when carried to his burial. I asked him, why.
"There are many reasons. His health will never be any better; he cannot recover from his present illness. I know it is hard, but there are many who think it is preferable that one should suffer than thousands, who consider themselves better men. He has brought this trouble upon himself, by not living up to his oath. He and his brother are both traitors, and have placed the fraternity, of which they are members, entirely in the power of their enemies, but it will all come out right; there is no mistake. You heard that Madam Brown had lost a certain package of papers, letters, or the like, did you not?"
I replied in the affirmative.
"Well, they believed for a time that I had them, or would have made others think so; but that kind of accusation would not take with men who knew me. They next laid the charge against you: I have satisfied the interested party, that they are not in the possession of either of us, but that the colonel and his brother have them, and intend thereby to slip more necks into the halter than poor Taylor's. I am of the opinion, their own necks will pay the price of their treachery."
I then replied, that I knew Mrs. Brown had said she had lost a package of papers, but what they contained, I knew not.
"Nor ever will know," said he.
"I have no curiosity about the matter," I replied.
"And you might as well never have, for curious people will pay dearly for reading them, especially if they undertake it in court, as evidence against the brotherhood."
The reader can hardly imagine the intense desire that was created, by this time, in my heart, to learn all about this "brotherhood," and "fraternity," so often introduced, and yet so obscurely as to give me no certain information.
I took this opportunity to ask Cunningham, what title this society had assumed; whether they were Masons or Odd Fellows? He laughed, and said:
"I thought I had explained some of the particulars to you." He then stopped, as if to consider, when he continued: "Certainly, Masons and Odd Fellows both, and all other good institutions—but, I can tell you, Green, the brother who has turned state's evidence swears terrible vengeance against you. Do you be careful. He has many who are watching you. I belong to the party opposed to him and the colonel, and they throw all the blame upon you. You are the victim of their suspicions and hate, and you will do well to leave this place without delay; but tell no one, by any means, that I have given you this information."
I bade him good day, and we separated.
I now thought I would call once more, and see the colonel. I hastened to the hospital, but as I drew near, I discovered two men riot far from the steps, and the third coming down. I walked by them, without being recognised, and as I passed, the third man had entered into conversation with the other two.
He was asked, "Is it a fact, that he is dead?"
"Yes, certainly. He has been dead about three hours."
"I knew," said one, "that he could not stand it long."
Two of the men, I perceived, were from Lawrenceburgh, the two who stood remotely, one of whom was the identical person who wore the wig, and gave me such good fatherly instruction. I passed to the room, where I found the steward, with three assistants, laying out the corpse.
"We do not wish any more assistance at present," said the old French steward. I understood his meaning, and left immediately.
The news of the colonel's death soon spread through the city, and many gathered to witness the burial, but owing to the inclemency of the weather, few followed to the grave. When the hearse bore the body away, it rained very hard. I did not make my appearance on the occasion, for I well knew that many would be present to relieve their anxious minds—to rejoice rather than mourn over the dead, and who would sooner see my dead body deposited by that of the colonel's, than any other on earth. I was determined not to be mourned for in that way, by the desperate villains. I therefore kept aloof from their society.
Several days elapsed, during which time I remained in concealment from all the clan, but Cunningham, who expressed a concern for my welfare. I also had frequent conferences with my friend, the deputy-marshal. Three days after the colonel's death, Cunningham informed me, that he was convinced that both of the Browns deserved death.
"But I dare not tell you why," said he, "and if I should, you would not be able to comprehend my reasons. Be assured, if they are guilty, the other brother will never come from that prison alive. He will find out, that the brotherhood are wide awake."
All his insinuations were perfect Greek to me, for some weeks after; but when Taylor had his trial, the whole matter was explained. Their import I will now unfold.
CHAPTER IX.
From the time the plan was concocted, for making Taylor suffer the penalty of another's crime, the utmost promptitude was required for its execution—the machinery must be actively employed by the friends of the colonel, and his brother. First, the colonel must be made sick, and a sympathy thereby awakened, and hence the plea for his removal would be the more plausible. His enlargement was important. He was a principal man, with whom it would be necessary to have much consultation—an intercourse more vital to the cause of his pretended than his real friends. Besides, there were many who really desired his escape, but being among the first class of society, as to wealth, respectability, and influence, they were unwilling to frequent the prison to visit the unfortunate colonel. Though interested deeply in his release, they were not willing the public should understand that they were sworn friends. The part the younger brother was to sustain, has already been detailed in a former chapter. The medicine was administered with the desired effect, and the colonel was removed to the hospital. He was now in a situation to be consulted. Many would now visit him, who never would have gone to the prison. If a reason was required for their familiarity with so base a man, it could be found in the dictates of kindness, called forth by suffering humanity. After his removal, his brother was under obligation to do as he had promised, to produce the spurious plates, the counterfeit money, and the correspondence, and swear them upon Taylor, as the real agent and proprietor. As the signatures of the letters were anonymous, other testimony was required to establish the real author.
It will be remembered that the plates and letters were in Canada for safe keeping, and must be sent for, and conveyed to the city before the trial of Taylor could proceed. In the mean time, jealousy and consequent dread on the part of the colonel's confederates were daily receiving new strength. Conscious were they of having acted a most dishonorable and deceitful part with one of whom, under ordinary circumstances, they were accustomed to stand in awe; but now they were more especially apprehensive of danger, because there was a provocation for seeking vengeance. They knew he had every means to involve them in a more signal overthrow than that which awaited himself. The only alternatives were, either to wrest the weapons of destruction from his hands, or render the possessor incapable of wielding them. They were driven almost to desperation, when they reflected on their deeds of wickedness reaching through many years, the record of which was in the hands of a powerful and justly provoked enemy, who in a day might spread out for the gaze of the world the portraiture of their former characters, in which were mingled the features of darkest villany and the more glaring expressions of open violence and crime. Goaded on by an awful apprehension, they were prepared for any thing that might save themselves and families from exposure and disgrace.
Colonel Brown was a Grand Master of the band of Secret Brothers. The members of the fraternity who sought his ruin were of the same degree, together with those holding the relation of Vice-grand Master. He had nothing to fear from the common brotherhood, who were kept in perfect ignorance of the transactions of those more advanced. Indeed, they were his warmest friends, and regarded him with especial reverence, because he commended himself to their confidence and esteem by his naturally good disposition, and, most of all, by his relation of Grand Master, which is always accompanied either with dread or marked respect. The inferior order was very numerous, but seldom wealthy, generally of a suspicious character, who had no fixed residence, but wandered from place to place, preying upon the community in the character of bar-keepers, pickpockets, thieves, gamblers, horse-racers, and sometimes murderers. They may be found in all parts of the United States and Canada. These were controlled by some two hundred Grand Masters, conveniently located, who were generally men of wealth and respectability, and often connected with some learned profession, yet but seldom applying themselves to their profession sufficient to gain a livelihood. These men, of both orders, would often confer together, especially when one had been detected in any crime—or some dirty job was to be done, which was likely to bring into the hands of the superior order any considerable wealth. In fact, these so-called respectable men would lay plans which they dared not execute for fear of detection, but having any number of agents in readiness among the common brotherhood who had nothing to lose in point of character, they would employ them, and if successful, be sure to pocket all the spoils—except enough to satisfy the immediate wants of their jackals. If they were not successful, but detected in their villany, these unfortunate agents could lay claim to their aid, and were permitted to make drafts of money to procure bail in case of indictment or to defray the expenses of a trial. We have sometimes wondered that certain felons should get clear, when their guilt has been established beyond a doubt. We will not wonder when we learn that there are men of wealth and influence in almost every town, who are sworn to aid and befriend these villains. They are sometimes lawyers, and jurors, and even judges. But their conduct and relations will be more clearly seen, when I publish their letters and constitution. It is only necessary to remark in this connection, that the only persons really benefited in this organized system of land piracy, are their Grand Masters. They lay most of the plans, and receive and control the money,—confer among themselves, but never with a common brother, only using him as a tool for the accomplishment of some foul purpose. Here is policy. It would not be safe to commit their secrets to the many hundreds under them, but only to such as are judged suitable after years of trial, and those beneath are often looking forward for promotion, which is a pledge of their fidelity. The reader will perceive that if this higher order was ever to be fully exposed, it must be by some one of their own number, for one of an inferior degree knows no more of their proceedings than the uninitiated.
The danger of a full exposure now threatened them in connection with Colonel Brown; at least they apprehended it. They knew they deserved it, and the circumstances of their accomplice pointed in that direction. He had the means—their own letters, and a knowledge of their deeds. It was only necessary to give information to a third person, and the work would be done. Besides, he was a man of extensive acquaintance and influence—a ruling spirit among his fellows. A revelation from him would have been direful in the extreme, as, in addition, he had in his possession the constitution and by-laws of the fraternity, which were always lodged with the ruling Grand Master. Under these circumstances we need not wonder that there was excitement, that every expedient was employed to rescue the documents or make away with their possessor. He was now in confinement. It was vital to their designs to keep him there till they could secure the letters and constitution above referred to, or, in case of failure, make his life pay the forfeit. They cared but little for his brother, as he was of an inferior grade. The Grand Masters, then in office, had but one object in view, and that they were intent upon accomplishing. The acquittal or conviction of the two brothers was a matter of no consequence compared with their own personal safety. To secure this they would not scruple even to commit murder. That this is the case, will be seen by an article in their constitution. I may further remark in this connection, that their laws required, that the Grand Master shall be assisted by six Vice-grand Masters, but these latter cannot be admitted into the secrets of the former till they are promoted, although they are obligated to do his bidding. The members who had been advanced to the highest degree, and hold the principal secrets of the order in connection with the colonel their leader, were about two hundred. These were the individuals conspiring against his life, in case they could not procure their letters and other documents. Their main and first object was, therefore, to bring those papers to the city.
The papers were sent for, as before stated, and all their designs, of a public and private nature, set in active operation. Of this the colonel had no knowledge at the time. Mrs. B. was to give them up to the committee appointed for the purpose of inspecting them. All that would have any tendency to injure or expose the fraternity, if brought to light, were to be selected, and the rest brought forward for the purpose of convicting Taylor. The intention of bringing these papers to the city being, in the mean time, made known to the colonel, he gave directions to his sister-in-law to reserve such papers as he specified, and hand the balance over to the committee. The trunk in which they were deposited having arrived, Mrs. B. acted according to directions, reserving the notable package which she concealed between her beds, while she conveyed the residue to the prison office for legal purposes—to be used by the committee, who met there by consent of one of the prison keepers—he being a Grand Master of the secret band and one of the principal policemen. After delivering up the papers, she returned and found her valuable deposit had been removed as previously stated.
The fact of their removal being made known to the brotherhood, they thought some base person had robbed the lady of her important charge. This opinion prevailed with the fraternity generally. Not so with the two hundred grandees. Their opinion assumed the character of their former suspicions, while their suspicions were converted into fact. They were now fully convinced that the colonel contemplated the destruction of their order, and was intent upon keeping the papers in his own power: that he had even entered upon the act of defeating the very purpose they had in view, in bringing those papers to the city. At this time the city was crowded with the members of this secret society, and private rewards were offered by the two hundred or that portion of this band then in the city, for the recovery of the papers. These rewards made a great stir, especially with the officers of all parties, both those for and against the colonel. Taylor was a mark to be shot at by about seven-eighths of the band, and the remaining one-eighth was ready to go to the highest bidder, to do service for him who would give the highest wages. He found means to secure the friendship of the latter, many of whom were considered quite respectable men, and were never suspected by the brotherhood of any thing dishonourable. The head men constituted still another party. Thus these villains were divided into three factions. These were the friends of Taylor, known as Taylorites, and the supporters of Brown, called Brownites. These only were publicly known; while the third party, embracing the royal grandees, were actively engaged in disengaging themselves from the coils which they supposed had been deliberately laid for their destruction. They showed, by their efforts, they had more at stake than all the rest. Though their movements were not publicly recognised, yet they had every influence that would favour their cause in operation, to consummate their hellish purposes.
The constitution, by-laws, and about one thousand and three hundred letters, including copies and original, were missing; and the destiny of the whole band of Grand Masters depended upon their recovery, before ever they fell into the hands of one who could explain them to the brotherhood; and still more calamitous would be the condition of the entire fraternity, if they were ever revealed to the public. Those more immediately concerned were confirmed in the opinion that the colonel had secreted them for future use. Finding they had not accomplished what they intended, in bringing the papers to the city, they had recourse to a certain clause in the constitution, to compel the colonel to produce some of them, if in his possession. That clause required the holder of an original letter to return the same, when requested by the writer, after copying, if desirable. This law applied, however, only to letters having the secret "qualities," or, in other words, the private description of the bearer in full, which was written in acid, and could be read only after subjection to chemical action. Three hundred and seventy-nine of the letters in the package were of this kind; one thousand were copies, whose original had been returned. The former had been written to the colonel, and one bore date as far back as July 9th, 1819; the latter had been addressed to various individuals, and some bore date as far back as 1798.
To secure these letters was a work of great delicacy. Though the constitution granted the right of asking the unreturned letters, yet the writers feared to make the requisition of the colonel, lest he might suspect them of a conspiracy, and being thus exasperated, let loose his engines of destruction. They finally fixed upon the following plan. They were to hold out the idea that they were ready to bail him, provided he would leave the country. In case he consented, they were to request the retention of the letters, feeling confident he had not destroyed them. The plan was laid open to the colonel by the man from Dearborn county, Indiana, the same who was dressed in disguise. He was told by the colonel that the papers (meaning the package) had been taken, and he could not furnish them, as he had no possible knowledge who had done the deed. This reply, to the council of Grand Masters, was like "a clap of thunder in a cloudless sky," so confident were they that he had them and would produce them when thus requested. There was now only one alternative, the life of the colonel must be taken, which they could and did accomplish, as the sequel will show.
CHAPTER X.
From the time of the visit by the Dearborn county man till the death of Colonel Brown, embracing about six weeks, there were constant and fierce wranglings among the fraternity. A considerable change had been made in the feelings of some of the colonel's former sworn friends, which of course made those who knew him innocent more bitter against any one they might suspect guilty of bringing such a calamity upon him. His friends and foes were equally interested in finding the retainer of the lost package, but all to no purpose. There was, however, but one sentiment in the Grand Council; they still believed that the colonel had them, and designed, as soon as he was liberated, to make a general exposure of the whole organization to the world. But their own consciousness of personal injury—of having acted a treacherous part against this man—was, in reality, the ground of their conviction as to his guilt; for it was not in the nature of the man to be false to his pledged honour. It only remained that they should prevent his liberation; and the most effectual way was to act in accordance with the assassin's maxim, "Dead men tell no tales." Their hatred rose to such a pitch that they began to exhibit their enmity toward any one that either sympathized, befriended, or was even familiar with the colonel. Here was the ground of their deadly animosity toward me. They supposed I was his confidant, and might be an agent for the execution of his designs.
These murderers,—(I ask no pardon for so harsh an epithet, for they were such in thought and deed,)—these Grand Masters, who visited the colonel while I waited upon him, and thus became personally known, have, ever since that event, assumed a hostile attitude toward me. It is true they have never attacked me publicly, yet I am confident they have hired others to do it. From the time I drew the money put in deposit by Sandford, and bore off that object of curiosity, so carefully concealed in the bed, until the day I was chased as a mad dog by an infuriated mob through the streets of New Orleans, and finally made good my escape through a troop of less hostile cotton snakes, as recorded in my Gambling Unmasked, I was singled out as an object of open and private hate by the whole tribe of organized desperadoes. To recover those papers, no steps were too desperate for the Grand Masters—they having any amount of money to accomplish their object; and I am now about to present the reader with another exhibition of their daring and indefatigable perseverance.
They now came to the conclusion that those papers had been given to the officers of the bank, and were deposited in the clerk's office of the United States court, to be used against them at some future day. They offered rewards to several of the inferior grade, for the purpose of getting possession of the box containing the plates, counterfeit money, and, as they supposed, the lost package. Their only hope now lay in getting that box. The time of Taylor's trial had been fixed. Mr. Munger informed me I could leave the city for a few days, and he would let me know when my services were wanted. I went to Bayou Sara, one hundred and fifty miles above New Orleans. A few days after my arrival, Mr. Munger came after me in great haste, bringing the information that a great and daring burglary had been committed the same night I left the city. The clerk's office had been entered, and the box, containing Taylor's indictments, plates, and spurious money, had been taken. Taylor's jury had not agreed, and he would get clear, in case the box could not be recovered. He informed me that I had been suspected and accused of the deed; but that he knew I was innocent, for he had inquired of the boat, and found I had left on the previous night, some time before the robbery was committed. He did not wish any one to know that he had any knowledge of my location, but told me I had nothing to fear. Indeed, I knew I could prove an alibi by more than one person, and I consented to return. While on our way back to the city, I told Mr. Munger I did not wish to go into the prison where the younger Brown was confined; I feared he had some designs upon my life.
"Do not have any apprehensions," said he, "on that account. You will not be hurt, for you will be put into the debtor's apartment, where Brown is not permitted to visit, and of course can have no chance to do you an injury."
I was placed in prison upon my return—a position of greater safety to me than any other. Being assured by Mr. Munger of protection, I went without hesitation—expecting to be released the next day. The next morning I was brought out and informed, to my great surprise, that if discharged I must furnish a very heavy bail. This was a source of alarm; but my friend calmed my fears, by saying that all would be right when I was examined; that the excitement was great, and it was only necessary to wait for the return of the Lady of the Lake—which was on a trip to Natchez, and would be back in a few days—when abundant evidence in my favour would be secured, and I would be acquitted.
In a few days, I was accordingly set at liberty. The plates and papers had been found in Natchez, and a man by the name of King had been arrested—who confessed the crime, but alleged that he had been hired by a certain party to do the deed. This King was one of the brotherhood, and had been employed by the committee of Grand Masters to enter the office and secure for them the box, by which they expected to obtain the package. In this they were mistaken, and placed in a worse dilemma than before.
On the day of my discharge I was visited by a man, to me unknown. He informed me that he had procured my acquittal, and was my sincere friend and well-wisher; that he desired always to remain the same—and would, during life, on condition that I acted in accordance with his wishes.
I considered him a strange person, to introduce himself in so singular a manner. He advised me to leave the city as soon as possible. I told him that was my intention. I likewise informed Mr. Munger of the same, and he readily consented, as Taylor's trial had been put off. Arrangements being made with him, I expected to leave the next day. In the mean time, I had an interview with Cunningham, who told me I must look out, for the brotherhood in general suspected me of foul play as to the papers. I denied all knowledge of them—for I found it my only safety to pursue one uniform course.
He continued: "The party are determined to have them at all hazards, and are now more convinced than ever that you are in the secret. All the circumstances are against you—more especially since the custom-house was broken open, which robbery was perpetrated for the express purpose of finding the papers. It was thought if the colonel had disposed of them, they would be found there; but now they will hold you responsible. I bid you farewell."
On the same evening I had this conversation with Cunningham, I went with Smith to the gambling-house: the same day, too, on which I won seventy dollars in the flat boat—the first and dearest money I ever won at gaming, as it nearly cost me my life—the full account of which is given in the work previously mentioned.
On the second day after this, as I was about leaving for Mobile, I met the gentleman who had procured my release. He advised me to depart forthwith, promising to meet me at another time. As we were separating he placed in my hands a box.
"Here," said he, "is a box, containing something I wish you to keep with great care. You must not open it till I give you permission."
I took the same. It was a small box, made of oak, three inches high, eight long, and five wide. Its possession gave me much uneasiness for twelve years—during which time I remained faithful to my instructions. I frequently met with my benefactor. The last time I saw him was in Philadelphia, in 1841. I have received from him nine letters, in all, of a good moral character, and always referring to the box. This individual's name I have never been able to learn. No two letters ever bore the same signature, but the identity of their contents convinced me they were all from the same person. That mysterious box I have preserved to the present day.
It will be remembered by the reader that I confided the papers, taken from Mrs. B., with a man by the name of Watkins. This individual died with the cholera, in 1832. I called upon his wife for the package, who returned the same to me at Cincinnati, in 1833. I found every thing as I had left it, excepting the blank parchments. They were gone. Here was a mystery I could not solve. How should a part be missing and not the whole? I never gained any satisfactory information until last summer. While travelling through the state of New York, I had occasion to visit the state's prison, where I met with a certain convict who passed by the name of Wyatt, but whose real name was Robert H. North. He gave me information about a certain "flash," or comprehensive language used among professional gamblers and blacklegs. Many of the phrases were familiar, but I never could ascertain their origin. He was soon convinced of my ignorance, and then informed me of the society whence they originated. He likewise explained the reason why I was so persecuted by the notorious Goodrich. "It is known," said he, "wherever the fraternity exist, that you obtained the package; but they are satisfied you destroyed the same, and it is well you did, or else you would have been put out of the way long before this."
I told him I had taken the package, but there was nothing in it save letters and a few blank parchments.
He laughed and said:
"If you had warmed those parchments, they would have presented an exhibition worthy of your attention."
This information made me restless with excitement and anxiety to peruse those letters and notes which I still had in my possession. I may here remark, the letters were, for the most part, unintelligible to a common reader, because of the secret language in which they were written. I had examined them again and again, without much satisfaction. I knew they were penned for the purpose of clandestinely carrying on a wholesale plunder—a deliberate imposition upon public and private rights. By frequent perusal I had become familiar with many of the terms which were often explained to me by those who were acquainted with their use, though they are used by thousands, without any knowledge of their origin.
After I commenced an exposure of the vice of gambling, I was often attacked by certain low, vulgar editors in a manner that indicated deep-seated malice. I could not account for their abuse. They would admit that society should be rid of the evil in question, but at the same time exhibited the most bitter hostility to me as one who had dared to expose the abominations of gaming. I was conscious there was something that moved them in their work of calumny not yet developed. The mystery rendered me unhappy. I was anxious to know the cause of this public opposition, and the more so, that I might satisfy the people that the whole arose from influences akin to the vice I was labouring to destroy. The secret was soon discovered, and I am now prepared to satisfy the public mind that the attacks upon my present relation to society have arisen from something more than an ignorant prejudice. These hireling editors knew I had the materials to draw their portraits at full length in all their moral hideousness; and they feared society would be thrown into spasms at the sight, and they would be hurled from their stations of trust by an enraged and insulted people. It has only been necessary in one or two instances to give them a few hints of the information I possessed, and they were hushed up instanter.
A long time had elapsed since I heard from the mysterious stranger who gave me the box,—long enough, I had supposed, to free me from obligation of further restraint upon my curiosity. It had now been in my possession several years, and I felt myself at liberty to examine its contents. Having consulted with a few friends previously, I then made known, in the fall of 1842, to Rev. John F. Wright—formerly of the Methodist Book Concern, Cincinnati—that I had such a box, and my intentions. I likewise gave the same information to Arthur Vance—formerly of Lawrenceburgh, Indiana—Mr. John Norton, of Lexington, Kentucky—Thomas M. Gallay, of Wheeling, Virginia. I informed each of them how I came by the box, and the unaccountable conduct of the man who placed it in my hands. Having opened it, I found the same number of parchments I had missed from the package, all blank in appearance. In these was a note, which read as follows:
"The parchments, now in the hands of the possessor, contain much sad intelligence, and can be read, provided they are heated. They are exposed by a brother of the band, a doomed man, one the world has known to its sorrow for forty years. May the owner and holder consider the doomed one a most kind friend for ever!
"New Orleans, May 3d, 1832."
I soon hastened to ascertain the contents of the parchments, and found the statement made correct.
CHAPTER XI.
The contents of these papers are such as almost stagger belief, even in the most credulous. They not only go to prove the existence of a league of villany, but also laid open the machinery by which their wickedness was concealed; still, from many incidents of my own life, and from what I have learned by observing events which have transpired around me, as well as from narratives of undoubted truth which I have heard, I am constrained to believe that the band above alluded to does now exist, and that it has flourished for a long time, with astonishing power.
I have reason to suppose that many of the band settled in and about Lawrenceburgh, Indiana; and from the year 1800 to 1827, they were very numerous, and some of them wealthy; they were mostly close traders, who turned every cent they got, honestly or dishonestly, into real estate. Many of them, also, were well educated, and composed the aristocracy, while the poor honest man was crowded down by these influential members of society.
There are now three classes of wealthy men in that neighbourhood: the honest, whose property was obtained fairly; the members of the band; and some, of whom I am doubtful whether they belong to the band or not. If they do not, they are villains by nature, and do not need their assistance.
In the year 1846, I delivered a lecture at Lawrenceburgh, in which I exposed this band, and showed the manner in which their correspondence was carried on. The old members of the band had art enough to persuade the doubtful rogues that they were the persons alluded to, and they believed it. Whether conscience had any thing to do with their belief or not, I do not pretend to say; but the community generally seemed quite ready to grant them that honour. It was very amusing to notice the difference between the conduct of the guilty and that of the innocent, in relation to the exposure. The "Brotherhood," all at once, were very much concerned about the fair fame of their neighbourhood—called me a slanderer, and in fact caused a much greater excitement against themselves than would have occurred, had they kept still; while the honest citizens quietly asked for the names of the "brothers," and whether any of their relations belonged to them; they begged me to go on, and expose every member.
Since 1802, many robberies have been committed under circumstances which strongly indicate that such a band existed. Public agents, and other highly respectable citizens, have been robbed of funds which they held in trust, and no trace of the robbers could be found, and no curiosity seemed to be excited by the fact. Sometimes the person robbed shared in the spoils, and sometimes they were innocent; and it has sometimes happened that the innocent man was suspected. The honest citizens of Lawrenceburgh have, for forty years, known what a curse it is to have bad neighbours.
During the excitement occasioned by my lectures above mentioned, a resident of Lawrenceburgh related the following incident, which is only one among many which might be named to show the nature of the transactions in which these men engaged, and their facilities for carrying them out. I will give it as nearly as I can recollect in his own words:
"During the year 1832, a stranger came into the town of Lawrenceburgh, and for several days was noticed in the public places watching every one who passed, as if looking for some one. At length he came to me, and told me that he wished my assistance in the business on which he came, but that it would be necessary to keep the matter secret. I answered, that if it were proper, I had no objections to secrecy. He then related the following facts as introductory to his business.
"He resided in Ohio; some eighteen months previous a friend had been induced to purchase a large drove of hogs for the market; he made the purchase on credit, with a promise to pay when he returned. While he was preparing to start, Daniel and James Brown bargained and contracted for them, to be delivered at a certain landing on Lake Erie, at a certain day, at which place and time they promised to meet and pay him. He gathered his drove, and proceeded to the landing, where he arrived several days before the time appointed. He was there met by some men, who told him that Brown had been there, and left word for him to drive the hogs to a landing two or three days' journey further on, where he had made arrangements to butcher and pack them. He went as directed; he found neither of the Browns there, but found the men who had directed him before; they informed him that they had orders to commence killing and packing the hogs, and that Mr. Brown would be there that day, or the next. He consented, and the hogs were killed and packed. A merchant at the landing advanced money to pay the man, and also furnished salt, and barrels on credit. On the day that all was finished, the two Browns arrived, bringing with them another large drove. They pretended to be very much surprised to find our friend there, and much more so to find the hogs butchered. They declared that they had not bargained for the slaughter of the hogs, and that they contracted for them in another place, and would have nothing to do with them here; that he had broken his contract, and they should demand heavy damages. He sought for the men who had directed him hither, but they had dispersed as soon as paid, and no trace of them was to be found. He told the Browns how he had been deceived, but they denied all knowledge of the affair, and again talked of damages. The merchant then presented his bill for supplies, and money advanced to butchers and packers. Our friend not having the money, he seized on the pork. What could he do? The case was desperate. He had bought on credit; would his pitiful story satisfy his creditors? His character was ruined. You may imagine the state of his mind. At this crisis, the Messrs. Brown took him aside, and told him that since he was in difficulty, they were willing to befriend him, and to show him how he could soon make money enough to pay off his creditors. An oath of secrecy was required and given. They then offered to settle the merchant's bills, which were very extravagant, and pay him for the pork in counterfeit money, at twenty per cent., with which he was to buy stock through the country. In his despair, he consented; a few days after he was detected, arrested, and tried, under a false name, and condemned to the Ohio penitentiary. His friends, remaining entirely ignorant of his fate, began to suspect foul play. The Messrs. Brown effected his pardon, and hurried him away; but not before he had contrived to make known his story, and the fact that he was under restraint among a band of bad men, and that he could not escape without assistance. He was never heard of more.
"The stranger gave me his address, and requested that I would keep an eye upon the people who should come there, and if I should see the Browns, or hear of his unfortunate friend, that I should let him know. He had visited Lawrenceburgh, because that was the former residence of these two men, and he hoped to see them; but being disappointed, he was compelled to go back to the family of the lost neighbour without having received any intelligence of his fate."
The reader will have seen by this time, that, probably, the whole transaction was arranged before the man bought the first hoof of that drove of hogs. Some emissary of the Browns advised him to speculate in pork; to use his credit, which was good, and he did not see the Browns till he was preparing to start. They make him liberal offers, because they never intend to pay, and it matters little what they offer. He then sends some of the meaner members of the gang to the landing, to order him a few days' journey further, and there they meet him again, and butcher, and pack the hogs. They are well paid for their villany by the job, which they take care to make a fat one. The merchant was paid for his part of the rascality by the profit on his stores, and perhaps by a bonus out of the money advanced. They then thought that if they could implicate him in any unlawful business, he would tell no tales about them; accordingly, they entice him, or rather drive him to the counterfeit trade. But conscience makes bad men cowards, and they felt uneasy, so, by means of some of the band, they have him arrested; the proof is so positive that he must be convicted, and the poor fellow was thrown into the penitentiary. But even here they did not consider him safe, although under a false name; so, through the influence of some of the aristocracy, they get him pardoned; and then the moment he is free, they meet him, tell him of all they have done for him, and propose a new scene of action. Poor fellow, what can he do? He goes with them to this new scene of action, but in all probability he finds it a state of rest, for "dead men tell no tales."
Thus, for the paltry price of a drove of hogs, was an honest man ruined, and, for fear of detection, murdered.
CHAPTER XII.
Probably in no era of the world, and certainly never among a Christian people, was there formed a more bold, daring, and, at the same time, secret association, than the one whose constitution and by-laws we now present to the reader. Composed of men of all classes and grades in society, from the priest at the altar, the judge on the bench, the lawyer at the bar, down to the most common felon and street thief or pickpocket, all bound together by a solemn oath, they laboured for the general cause of secret plunder, to the enriching of themselves at the expense of the mass. But having previously shown how I procured my information regarding these desperadoes, I shall leave farther comment on their acts, for the present, to the public, before whose tribunal they must be arraigned, and proceed at once to present their