During the last night I acted in Mobile, whilst on the stage, I heard a slight noise in the upper boxes; a rush was made to a particular point; then a moment's scuffle, and all was silent. The ladies in the dress-boxes had not moved, and very little sensation was communicated to the crowded pit: the whole thing, in fact, was over in as short a time as I have occupied in the telling of it.
After the play I accompanied a party of ladies to the house of Mr. M——e to sup, and here, for the first time, learned, through an inquiry casually made, that during that slight scuffle a citizen had been killed by the blow of a knife, given by an intemperate ruffian named M'Crew, who had quietly descended the stairs afterwards, accompanied by his brother. These men were from the country, were known disturbers of the peace, and rarely made their appearance without bloodshed following.
The next morning I inquired as to the result, when it appeared the homicide was adjudged manslaughter in a chance-medley; and the ruffian, who had voluntarily appeared before the magistrate, was admitted to bail. Now here was a case where Lynch law might have been most beneficially employed: the citizens should have caught both these ruffians, and hung them at their gates in terrorem.
I may add here, that, within a month of this time, these fiends atrociously murdered the child of a planter, out of revenge for some real or fancied affront; and, finding the exploit likely to prove serious, fled to Texas.[2]
My next illustration is of a kind so little in keeping with the year 1835, that it would be a better story if dated from the debateable land, anno Dom. 1535. The hero of the fight I am about to narrate is as fine a specimen of an old Irishman as ever I met with, and I have seen him frequently: his name is Robert Singleton, and his residence is Baldwin county, in this State.
It appears that Mr. Singleton had lent to a Mr. English four or five negroes, whom at a certain time he claimed, according to agreement, and took back to his own place: hence arose a dispute as to the right of possession; which dispute the sons of Mr. English decided upon settling in a right border fashion.
Accompanied by three of their white neighbours, and three of their father's slaves, the two Englishes repaired to the plantation of Mr. Singleton. He was absent; but they surrounded the house, and, after a resistance on the part of the slaves, which cost one of them his life, the number claimed were made prisoners, and marched off for the country of their captors.
Meantime, a lad who had escaped from the house on the first attack, found, and communicated the surprisal and the result to his master, Mr. Singleton, who, accompanied by his eldest son, without a moment's hesitation put spurs to horse, and took the line of country likely to cut off the retreat of the enemy.
Early on the next morning, July 4th, the Singletons came upon a bridge they knew the Englishes must cross; and, not discovering new tracks, decided to halt here: they had not waited half an hour, when the other party came in sight.