“When we have shuffled off this mortal coil;”
how hard to bear! What “tempest to the soul!” Oh! how that victim begged! how promised to be all they wished, would they but give him that one boon—life, which, when once taken, can never be restored. All was of no avail! To each agonized entreaty, no answer was returned, but a firmer grasp upon his throat. Mr. Ogilvie had ever been in the practice of sleeping with loaded pistols under his pillow, and in this moment of danger, one of his first cares was to possess himself of those weapons. But here again Molly stepped in as his evil genius; for to carry fully into effect her murderous intentions, she had, during the preceding day, contrived to take out the flints. The tragedy hastened to a close; disappointed in his hopes of defence, and pinioned by his murderers, Mr. Ogilvie’s struggles became fainter and fainter—his sighs burst thicker from his lips—the blood gushed in torrents to his head and face, as his deadly enemies pressed more tightly the heaving throat—his blood-shot eyes started from their sockets—and with one sharp pang, one choking frenzied cry, his spirit winged its flight to another sphere, and his body sank on the pillow a blackened corpse.
The dreadful deed completed, no feeling of contrition, no twinge of conscience haunted the murderers; but taking the key of the cellar, they hastened to convey to the chamber of the dead, a bottle of wine, and another of shrub. After enjoying themselves with a portion of these liquors, they placed the remainder upon the bed, at the feet of their inanimate victim, thinking that as Mr. Ogilvie had lately given way to excessive inebriety, an indulgence in that vice would be considered as the cause of his death, when the body should be discovered.
Long did the overseer upon the property wait the following morning for the appearance of his employer; anxiously did he watch the door, as hour after hour rolled away; but the door still remained closed, and his patience becoming exhausted, and fearful of some misfortune, he at length determined to burst it open. This effected, the dreadful truth quickly forced itself upon his conviction; there lay Mr. Ogilvie stiff and cold, who only the day before exulted in all the glow and strength of youth. As no information could be obtained from either of the servants, as to whether Mr. Ogilvie had complained of indisposition during the night, it was thought necessary to call a coroner’s inquest to sit upon the body; and consequently, Martin, on account of his being the deceased’s most constant attendant, was despatched to convey the necessary information to the coroner.
Mr. Ogilvie’s estate was situated at the extreme west end of the island, and at that period, the person who exercised the office of coroner resided at the extreme east end. Martin, who knew too well the cause of his unfortunate master’s death, found his interest lay in retarding, rather than urging on his journey, and from this cause, the coroner did not reach Mr. Ogilvie’s residence until the following day, when the body was found to be in such a decomposed state, that the coroner’s jury could form no correct opinion as to the cause of his death, and therefore returned a verdict of “Died by the visitation of God.”[[25]]
So far all was well with Martin and his associates; no hand pointed to them, no eye watched their movements. Suspicion was at rest; and no “foul whisperings” were abroad which would tend to urge further inquiry into the tragic event. In this manner, three years rolled away; but murder will out; sooner or later, such deeds are published in the broad front of heaven. Like the savage tiger, who, having once tasted human blood, longs for more, Martin and his accomplices, finding how well they got through their first murder, resolved to attempt the life of the manager, Mr. David Simon.
Mr. Simon had been living upon another estate belonging to the Ogilvie family and for some time before had been suffering from severe indisposition. When in a convalescent state, he was invited by Dr. Ogilvie (who had taken charge of the estates, after the demise of Mr. Adam Ogilvie) to spend some time with him, for change of air. The room appropriated for his reception was the one in which Mr. Adam Ogilvie met his fate: and here it was that Martin and his party determined to strangle him, as they had formerly done their master. Night, “sable goddess,” from her ebon throne, “stretched her leaden sceptre o’er a slumbering world,” and Mr. Simon retired to rest; but before he courted the embrace of sleep, his thoughts dwelt upon that kind Power who had so graciously supported him throughout a severe fit of illness, and at length brought him to that state of convalescence when he could again enjoy those things which make life sweet. Whilst ruminating upon these subjects, his attention was drawn to a slight rustle in his apartment, and listening more intently, he heard a whispering voice exclaim, “Hold him!” His first plan was to spring from his bed, but in the act of doing so, he was grappled by one or two of his assassins. Fearful was the struggle which ensued—the one striving for his life, the others for their safety, which they well knew would be lost did their intended victim escape. At length, wonderfully renewed with a sufficient degree of strength, Mr. Simon was enabled to jump to the back of the bed, which fortunately happened to be distant two or three feet from the partition—a place not calculated for the murderers following up their attack. Here, keeping his assassins at bay, Mr. Simon redoubled his cries of murder, which at length were fortunately heard by Dr. Ogilvie, who occupied a distant chamber, and who quickly coming to his assistance, the culprits became alarmed, and endeavoured to make their escape by the windows. This they finally succeeded in doing, but not before Martin (the individual who, it will be remembered, was sent to call the coroner on the occasion of Mr. Ogilvie’s untimely death) was fully recognised by the manager and Dr. Ogilvie. The next morning, it was discovered that Martin and his accomplices had absconded, upon which, search was made, and in the course of a short time, they were apprehended and brought up for trial. Molly, the faithless paramour of Mr. Ogilvie, turned king’s evidence; and in the course of her examination, admitted the facts of that gentleman’s murder, and her own share in that shocking deed. It may be necessary to observe, that when the murder of Mr. Ogilvie was determined, the ranger upon the estate, a man of the name of Jacob, was fully sensible of their intentions, although he would not aid them in the completion; he was therefore found guilty as an accessary before the fact, and with Martin and the others, condemned and executed; his body hung in chains upon the property as a warning to others. Molly and her child are still alive, and reside upon the estate where she played so shameful a part; whether a prey to remorse, I am unable to say; but we hope she has truly repented, and sought pardon where it is only to be found—at the throne of Heaven.
The family annals of Sir John Ogilvie present little but a series of disasters. Out of nine sons, two died prematurely in the East Indies, one was killed in Egypt, another fell in the capture of Martinique, while, as we have already seen, young Adam was murdered in Antigua.
[[23]] For the genealogy of the Martin family, see [Appendix].