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