I was first accused of having endeavoured to instigate to mutiny and revolt the slaves of the plantation Besançon, by having interfered to prevent one of their number from receiving his just punishment! Secondly, I had caused another of these to strike down his overseer; and afterwards had induced him to run away to the woods, and aided him in so doing! This was the slave Gabriel, who had just that day been captured in my company. Thirdly and Gayarre now came to the cream of his accusation.
“Thirdly,” continued he, “I accuse this person of having entered my house on the night of October the 18th, and having stolen therefrom the female slave Aurore Besançon.”
“It is false!” cried a voice, interrupting him. “It is false! Aurore Besançon is not a slave!”
Gayarre started, as though some one had thrust a knife into him.
“Who says that?” he demanded, though with a voice that evidently faltered.
“I!” replied the voice; and at the same instant a young man leaped upon one of the benches, and stood with his head overtopping the crowd. It was D’Hauteville!
“I say it!” he repeated, in the same firm tone. “Aurore Besançon is no slave, but a free Quadroon! Here, Justice Claiborne,” continued D’Hauteville, “do me the favour to read this document!” At the same time the speaker handed a folded parchment across the room.
The sheriff passed it to the magistrate, who opened it and read aloud.
It proved to be the “free papers” of Aurore the Quadroon—the certificate of her manumission—regularly signed and attested by her master, Auguste Besançon, and left by him in his will.
The astonishment was extreme—so much so that the crowd seemed petrified, and preserved silence. Their feelings were on the turn.