[CHAPTER XV.]
THE RESULTS OF THE INSURRECTION, WITH A TRULY STRANGE AND FATAL CATASTROPHE THAT BEFELL THE AUTHOR.
When I recovered my senses I found myself a prisoner, bound hand and foot, and lying, with six or seven of my late companions, in a cart, in which, groaning with pain, for most of us were wounded, and anticipating a direful end to our dreams of conquest and revenge, we were trundled to the village, and there deposited in the county jail, to repent at leisure the rashness and enormity of our enterprise.
The power of that little pamphlet, of which I have said so much, to produce an effect for which we must charitably suppose it was not intended, was shown in the numbers of wretches by whom the prison was crowded; for it had been used to inflame the passions of the negroes on several different estates, all of whom had agreed to rise in insurrection, although, as it providentially happened the revolt extended to the length of murder only on Ridgewood Hill. The conspiracy was detected—I believe confessed by a slave—on a plantation adjacent to that of my master's son; who, being informed of it, and assisted by a party that brought the news, proceeded to seize the ringleaders in his own gang, some of whom, attempting to make their escape, were fired on; and this was the cause of the volley which we had heard, and supposed was fired by our fellow-conspirators beyond the creek. The major then crossed over to his father's estate, but too late to avert the tragedy which I have related. His father, his eldest sister, and her lover were already dead; as for the younger, Edith, she was taken up alive, but cruelly mangled, and she expired in a few hours. The faithful and devoted overseer, I have the happiness to believe, ultimately escaped with his life; for, although covered with wounds, and at first reported dead, he revived sufficiently to make deposition to the facts of the assault and murder, as far as he was cognizant of them, and I heard he was expected to recover.
Of those who perished, the father, the children, and the gallant friend, there was not one who was not, a fortnight before, respected and beloved by those who slew them; and at their death-hour they were as guiltless of wrong, and as deserving of affection and gratitude, as they ever had been. How, therefore, they came to be hated, and why they were killed, I am unable to divine. All that I know is, that we who loved them read a book which fell in our way, and from that moment knew them only as enemies—objects on whom we had a right to glut our fiercest passions.
As for ourselves—my deluded companions, at least—their fate can be easily imagined. Some were killed at the scene of murder; among others the chief leader, Governor, who was shot on the roof of the house. Parson Jim was wounded on the same place, and, rolling from the roof, was horribly crushed by the fall, but lingered in unspeakable agonies for several days, and then died. Scipio, the fiddler, was taken alive, tried, condemned, and executed, with many others whose participation in the crime left them no hope of mercy.
With these, I was myself put upon trial and adjudged to death; for although it was made apparent that I had not lifted my hand against any one, it was proved that I was more than privy to the plot—that I had been instrumental in fomenting it; and the known favour with which I had been treated, added the double die of ingratitude to my offence. I was therefore condemned, and bade to expect no mercy; nor did I expect it; for the fatal day appointed for the execution having arrived, a rope was put round my neck, and I was led to the gibbet.
And now I am about to relate what will greatly surprise the reader—I was not only found guilty and condemned—I was hanged! Escape was impossible, and I perceived it. The anguish of my mind—for in anguish it may be supposed I looked forward to my fate—was increased by the consciousness—so long slumbering—that flashed on it, as I was driven to the fatal tree, that I was, in reality, not Tom the slave, but Sheppard Lee the freeman, and that I possessed a power of evading the halter, or any other inconvenience, provided I were allowed but one opportunity to exercise it. But where was I now to look for a dead body? It is true, there were bodies enough by-and-by, when my accomplices were tucked up around me; but what advantage could I derive from entering any one of them, since my fate must be equally certain to be hanged?