"They will pay just as much attention to it as they did to your first proclamation," said Strachan. "General, if you do not carry out your proclamation there is not a Union man in the State whose life will be safe, and their blood will be on your hands. You will be cursed by every loyal citizen, and your enemies will despise you as a coward. Better, far better, you had never issued any proclamation."
McNeil felt the force of Strachan's reasoning. It would have been better if no proclamation had been made. To go back on it, and at the eleventh hour, would proclaim him weak and vacillating, and the effect might be as Strachan said.
"Go ahead, Strachan. I will not interfere," he said abruptly, and turned away.
Strachan departed highly elated, and repaired to a carpenter shop, where he ordered ten rough coffins made. The village suddenly awoke to the fact that the execution would take place. Then faces grew pale, and all jeering ceased. McNeil was besieged by applicants imploring him to stay the execution. Among these were a number of Union men. But McNeil remained obdurate; his mind was made up.
Strachan picked out ten men among the prisoners and they were told that on the morrow they must die. Why Strachan picked the ten men he did will never be known. They were not chosen by lot.
Among the ten men was a William S. Humphrey. Mrs. Humphrey had arrived in Palmyra the evening before the execution, not knowing her husband was to die. When told of his fate she was horrified, and in the early morning she sought Strachan to plead for his life, but was rudely repulsed. Then with tottering footsteps she wended her way to the headquarters of General McNeil. He received her kindly, but told her he would not interfere.
Half fainting she was borne from the room. Her little nine-year-old daughter had accompanied her as far as the door. Catching sight of the child, she cried with tears streaming down her face, "Go, child, go to General McNeil, kneel before him and with uplifted hands beg him to spare your father. Tell him what a good man he is. How he had refused to go with Porter after he had taken the oath."
The little girl obeyed. She made her way to General McNeil; she knelt before him; she raised her little hands imploringly; with the tears streaming down her face she sobbed, "Oh, General McNeil, don't have papa shot. He never will be bad any more. He promised and he will not break that promise. Don't have him shot. Think of me as your little girl pleading for your life."
She could say no more, but lay sobbing and moaning at his feet. The stern man trembled like a leaf; tears gathered in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
"Poor child! Poor child!" he murmured, as he gently raised her. Then turning to his desk he wrote an order and, handing it to an officer, said, "Take that to Colonel Strachan."