"I"m Ned Blakely. I"ve got you under fire. Don"t you move without orders-any of you. You two kneel down in the corner; faces to the wall-now. Bill Noakes, put these handcuffs on; now come up close. Quartermaster, fasten "em. All right. Don"t stir, sir. Quartermaster, put the key in the outside of the door. Now, men, I"m going to lock you two in; and if you try to burst through this door-well, you"ve heard of me. Bill Noakes, fall in ahead, and march. All set. Quartermaster, lock the door."
Noakes spent the night on board Blakely"s ship, a prisoner under strict guard. Early in the morning Capt. Ned called in all the sea-captains in the harbor and invited them, with nautical ceremony, to be present on board his ship at nine o"clock to witness the hanging of Noakes at the yard-arm!
"What! The man has not been tried."
"Of course he hasn"t. But didn"t he kill the n.i.g.g.e.r?"
"Certainly he did; but you are not thinking of hanging him without a trial?"
"Trial! What do I want to try him for, if he killed the n.i.g.g.e.r?"
"Oh, Capt. Ned, this will never do. Think how it will sound."
"Sound be hanged! Didn"t he kill the n.i.g.g.e.r?"
"Certainly, certainly, Capt. Ned,-n.o.body denies that,-but-"
"Then I"m going to hang him, that"s all. Everybody I"ve talked to talks just the same way you do. Everybody says he killed the n.i.g.g.e.r, everybody knows he killed the n.i.g.g.e.r, and yet every lubber of you wants him tried for it. I don"t understand such b.l.o.o.d.y foolishness as that. Tried! Mind you, I don"t object to trying him, if it"s got to be done to give satisfaction; and I"ll be there, and chip in and help, too; but put it off till afternoon-put it off till afternoon, for I"ll have my hands middling full till after the burying-"
"Why, what do you mean? Are you going to hang him any how-and try him afterward?"
"Didn"t I say I was going to hang him? I never saw such people as you. What"s the difference? You ask a favor, and then you ain"t satisfied when you get it. Before or after"s all one-you know how the trial will go. He killed the n.i.g.g.e.r. Say-I must be going. If your mate would like to come to the hanging, fetch him along. I like him."
There was a stir in the camp. The captains came in a body and pleaded with Capt. Ned not to do this rash thing. They promised that they would create a court composed of captains of the best character; they would empanel a jury; they would conduct everything in a way becoming the serious nature of the business in hand, and give the case an impartial hearing and the accused a fair trial. And they said it would be murder, and punishable by the American courts if he persisted and hung the accused on his ship. They pleaded hard. Capt. Ned said: "Gentlemen, I"m not stubborn and I"m not unreasonable. I"m always willing to do just as near right as I can. How long will it take?"
"Probably only a little while."
"And can I take him up the sh.o.r.e and hang him as soon as you are done?"
"If he is proven guilty he shall be hanged without unnecessary delay."
"If he"s proven guilty. Great Neptune, ain"t he guilty? This beats my time. Why you all know he"s guilty."
But at last they satisfied him that they were projecting nothing underhanded. Then he said: "Well, all right. You go on and try him and I"ll go down and overhaul his conscience and prepare him to go-like enough he needs it, and I don"t want to send him off without a show for hereafter."
This was another obstacle. They finally convinced him that it was necessary to have the accused in court. Then they said they would send a guard to bring him.
"No, sir, I prefer to fetch him myself-he don"t get out of my hands. Besides, I"ve got to go to the ship to get a rope, anyway."
The court a.s.sembled with due ceremony, empaneled a jury, and presently Capt. Ned entered, leading the prisoner with one hand and carrying a Bible and a rope in the other. He seated himself by the side of his captive and told the court to "up anchor and make sail." Then he turned a searching eye on the jury, and detected Noakes"s friends, the two bullies.
He strode over and said to them confidentially: "You"re here to interfere, you see. Now you vote right, do you hear?-or else there"ll be a double-barreled inquest here when this trial"s off, and your remainders will go home in a couple of baskets."
The caution was not without fruit. The jury was a unit-the verdict. "Guilty."
Capt. Ned sprung to his feet and said: "Come along-you"re my meat now, my lad, anyway. Gentlemen you"ve done yourselves proud. I invite you all to come and see that I do it all straight. Follow me to the canyon, a mile above here."
The court informed him that a sheriff had been appointed to do the hanging, and- Capt. Ned"s patience was at an end. His wrath was boundless. The subject of a sheriff was judiciously dropped.
When the crowd arrived at the canyon, Capt. Ned climbed a tree and arranged the halter, then came down and noosed his man. He opened his Bible, and laid aside his hat. Selecting a chapter at random, he read it through, in a deep ba.s.s voice and with sincere solemnity. Then he said: "Lad, you are about to go aloft and give an account of yourself; and the lighter a man"s manifest is, as far as sin"s concerned, the better for him. Make a clean breast, man, and carry a log with you that"ll bear inspection. You killed the n.i.g.g.e.r?"
No reply. A long pause.
The captain read another chapter, pausing, from time to time, to impress the effect. Then he talked an earnest, persuasive sermon to him, and ended by repeating the question: "Did you kill the n.i.g.g.e.r?"
No reply-other than a malignant scowl. The captain now read the first and second chapters of Genesis, with deep feeling-paused a moment, closed the book reverently, and said with a perceptible savor of satisfaction: "There. Four chapters. There"s few that would have took the pains with you that I have."
Then he swung up the condemned, and made the rope fast; stood by and timed him half an hour with his watch, and then delivered the body to the court. A little after, as he stood contemplating the motionless figure, a doubt came into his face; evidently he felt a twinge of conscience-a misgiving-and he said with a sigh: "Well, p"raps I ought to burnt him, maybe. But I was trying to do for the best."
When the history of this affair reached California (it was in the "early days") it made a deal of talk, but did not diminish the captain"s popularity in any degree. It increased it, indeed. California had a population then that "inflicted" justice after a fashion that was simplicity and primitiveness itself, and could therefore admire appreciatively when the same fashion was followed elsewhere.
CHAPTER LI.
Vice flourished luxuriantly during the hey-day of our "flush times." The saloons were overburdened with custom; so were the police courts, the gambling dens, the brothels and the jails-unfailing signs of high prosperity in a mining region-in any region for that matter. Is it not so? A crowded police court docket is the surest of all signs that trade is brisk and money plenty. Still, there is one other sign; it comes last, but when it does come it establishes beyond cavil that the "flush times" are at the flood. This is the birth of the "literary" paper. The Weekly Occidental, "devoted to literature," made its appearance in Virginia. All the literary people were engaged to write for it. Mr. F. was to edit it. He was a felicitous skirmisher with a pen, and a man who could say happy things in a crisp, neat way. Once, while editor of the Union, he had disposed of a labored, incoherent, two-column attack made upon him by a contemporary, with a single line, which, at first glance, seemed to contain a solemn and tremendous compliment-viz.: "THE LOGIC OF OUR ADVERSARY RESEMBLES THE PEACE OF G.o.d,"-and left it to the reader"s memory and after-thought to invest the remark with another and "more different" meaning by supplying for himself and at his own leisure the rest of the Scripture-"in that it pa.s.seth understanding." He once said of a little, half-starved, wayside community that had no subsistence except what they could get by preying upon chance pa.s.sengers who stopped over with them a day when traveling by the overland stage, that in their Church service they had altered the Lord"s Prayer to read: "Give us this day our daily stranger!"
We expected great things of the Occidental. Of course it could not get along without an original novel, and so we made arrangements to hurl into the work the full strength of the company. Mrs. F. was an able romancist of the ineffable school-I know no other name to apply to a school whose heroes are all dainty and all perfect. She wrote the opening chapter, and introduced a lovely blonde simpleton who talked nothing but pearls and poetry and who was virtuous to the verge of eccentricity. She also introduced a young French Duke of aggravated refinement, in love with the blonde. Mr. F. followed next week, with a brilliant lawyer who set about getting the Duke"s estates into trouble, and a sparkling young lady of high society who fell to fascinating the Duke and impairing the appet.i.te of the blonde. Mr. D., a dark and b.l.o.o.d.y editor of one of the dailies, followed Mr. F., the third week, introducing a mysterious Roscicrucian who trans.m.u.ted metals, held consultations with the devil in a cave at dead of night, and cast the horoscope of the several heroes and heroines in such a way as to provide plenty of trouble for their future careers and breed a solemn and awful public interest in the novel. He also introduced a cloaked and masked melodramatic miscreant, put him on a salary and set him on the midnight track of the Duke with a poisoned dagger. He also created an Irish coachman with a rich brogue and placed him in the service of the society-young-lady with an ulterior mission to carry billet-doux to the Duke.
About this time there arrived in Virginia a dissolute stranger with a literary turn of mind-rather seedy he was, but very quiet and una.s.suming; almost diffident, indeed. He was so gentle, and his manners were so pleasing and kindly, whether he was sober or intoxicated, that he made friends of all who came in contact with him. He applied for literary work, offered conclusive evidence that he wielded an easy and practiced pen, and so Mr. F. engaged him at once to help write the novel. His chapter was to follow Mr. D."s, and mine was to come next. Now what does this fellow do but go off and get drunk and then proceed to his quarters and set to work with his imagination in a state of chaos, and that chaos in a condition of extravagant activity. The result may be guessed. He scanned the chapters of his predecessors, found plenty of heroes and heroines already created, and was satisfied with them; he decided to introduce no more; with all the confidence that whisky inspires and all the easy complacency it gives to its servant, he then launched himself lovingly into his work: he married the coachman to the society-young-lady for the sake of the scandal; married the Duke to the blonde"s stepmother, for the sake of the sensation; stopped the desperado"s salary; created a misunderstanding between the devil and the Roscicrucian; threw the Duke"s property into the wicked lawyer"s hands; made the lawyer"s upbraiding conscience drive him to drink, thence to delirium tremens, thence to suicide; broke the coachman"s neck; let his widow succ.u.mb to contumely, neglect, poverty and consumption; caused the blonde to drown herself, leaving her clothes on the bank with the customary note pinned to them forgiving the Duke and hoping he would be happy; revealed to the Duke, by means of the usual strawberry mark on left arm, that he had married his own long-lost mother and destroyed his long-lost sister; inst.i.tuted the proper and necessary suicide of the Duke and the d.u.c.h.ess in order to compa.s.s poetical justice; opened the earth and let the Roscicrucian through, accompanied with the accustomed smoke and thunder and smell of brimstone, and finished with the promise that in the next chapter, after holding a general inquest, he would take up the surviving character of the novel and tell what became of the devil!
It read with singular smoothness, and with a "dead" earnestness that was funny enough to suffocate a body. But there was war when it came in. The other novelists were furious. The mild stranger, not yet more than half sober, stood there, under a scathing fire of vituperation, meek and bewildered, looking from one to another of his a.s.sailants, and wondering what he could have done to invoke such a storm. When a lull came at last, he said his say gently and appealingly-said he did not rightly remember what he had written, but was sure he had tried to do the best he could, and knew his object had been to make the novel not only pleasant and plausible but instructive and-- The bombardment began again. The novelists a.s.sailed his ill-chosen adjectives and demolished them with a storm of denunciation and ridicule. And so the siege went on. Every time the stranger tried to appease the enemy he only made matters worse. Finally he offered to rewrite the chapter. This arrested hostilities. The indignation gradually quieted down, peace reigned again and the sufferer retired in safety and got him to his own citadel.
But on the way thither the evil angel tempted him and he got drunk again. And again his imagination went mad. He led the heroes and heroines a wilder dance than ever; and yet all through it ran that same convincing air of honesty and earnestness that had marked his first work. He got the characters into the most extraordinary situations, put them through the most surprising performances, and made them talk the strangest talk! But the chapter cannot be described. It was symmetrically crazy; it was artistically absurd; and it had explanatory footnotes that were fully as curious as the text. I remember one of the "situations," and will offer it as an example of the whole. He altered the character of the brilliant lawyer, and made him a great-hearted, splendid fellow; gave him fame and riches, and set his age at thirty-three years. Then he made the blonde discover, through the help of the Roscicrucian and the melodramatic miscreant, that while the Duke loved her money ardently and wanted it, he secretly felt a sort of leaning toward the society-young-lady. Stung to the quick, she tore her affections from him and bestowed them with tenfold power upon the lawyer, who responded with consuming zeal. But the parents would none of it. What they wanted in the family was a Duke; and a Duke they were determined to have; though they confessed that next to the Duke the lawyer had their preference. Necessarily the blonde now went into a decline. The parents were alarmed. They pleaded with her to marry the Duke, but she steadfastly refused, and pined on. Then they laid a plan. They told her to wait a year and a day, and if at the end of that time she still felt that she could not marry the Duke, she might marry the lawyer with their full consent. The result was as they had foreseen: gladness came again, and the flush of returning health. Then the parents took the next step in their scheme. They had the family physician recommend a long sea voyage and much land travel for the thorough restoration of the blonde"s strength; and they invited the Duke to be of the party. They judged that the Duke"s constant presence and the lawyer"s protracted absence would do the rest-for they did not invite the lawyer.
So they set sail in a steamer for America-and the third day out, when their sea-sickness called truce and permitted them to take their first meal at the public table, behold there sat the lawyer! The Duke and party made the best of an awkward situation; the voyage progressed, and the vessel neared America.
But, by and by, two hundred miles off New Bedford, the ship took fire; she burned to the water"s edge; of all her crew and pa.s.sengers, only thirty were saved. They floated about the sea half an afternoon and all night long. Among them were our friends. The lawyer, by superhuman exertions, had saved the blonde and her parents, swimming back and forth two hundred yards and bringing one each time-(the girl first). The Duke had saved himself. In the morning two whale ships arrived on the scene and sent their boats. The weather was stormy and the embarkation was attended with much confusion and excitement. The lawyer did his duty like a man; helped his exhausted and insensible blonde, her parents and some others into a boat (the Duke helped himself in); then a child fell overboard at the other end of the raft and the lawyer rushed thither and helped half a dozen people fish it out, under the stimulus of its mother"s screams. Then he ran back-a few seconds too late-the blonde"s boat was under way. So he had to take the other boat, and go to the other ship. The storm increased and drove the vessels out of sight of each other-drove them whither it would.
When it calmed, at the end of three days, the blonde"s ship was seven hundred miles north of Boston and the other about seven hundred south of that port. The blonde"s captain was bound on a whaling cruise in the North Atlantic and could not go back such a distance or make a port without orders; such being nautical law. The lawyer"s captain was to cruise in the North Pacific, and he could not go back or make a port without orders. All the lawyer"s money and baggage were in the blonde"s boat and went to the blonde"s ship-so his captain made him work his pa.s.sage as a common sailor. When both ships had been cruising nearly a year, the one was off the coast of Greenland and the other in Behring"s Strait. The blonde had long ago been well-nigh persuaded that her lawyer had been washed overboard and lost just before the whale ships reached the raft, and now, under the pleadings of her parents and the Duke she was at last beginning to nerve herself for the doom of the covenant, and prepare for the hated marriage.
But she would not yield a day before the date set. The weeks dragged on, the time narrowed, orders were given to deck the ship for the wedding-a wedding at sea among icebergs and walruses. Five days more and all would be over. So the blonde reflected, with a sigh and a tear. Oh where was her true love-and why, why did he not come and save her? At that moment he was lifting his harpoon to strike a whale in Behring"s Strait, five thousand miles away, by the way of the Arctic Ocean, or twenty thousand by the way of the Horn-that was the reason. He struck, but not with perfect aim-his foot slipped and he fell in the whale"s mouth and went down his throat. He was insensible five days. Then he came to himself and heard voices; daylight was streaming through a hole cut in the whale"s roof. He climbed out and astonished the sailors who were hoisting blubber up a ship"s side. He recognized the vessel, flew aboard, surprised the wedding party at the altar and exclaimed: "Stop the proceedings-I"m here! Come to my arms, my own!"
There were foot-notes to this extravagant piece of literature wherein the author endeavored to show that the whole thing was within the possibilities; he said he got the incident of the whale traveling from Behring"s Strait to the coast of Greenland, five thousand miles in five days, through the Arctic Ocean, from Charles Reade"s "Love Me Little Love Me Long," and considered that that established the fact that the thing could be done; and he instanced Jonah"s adventure as proof that a man could live in a whale"s belly, and added that if a preacher could stand it three days a lawyer could surely stand it five!
There was a fiercer storm than ever in the editorial sanctum now, and the stranger was peremptorily discharged, and his ma.n.u.script flung at his head. But he had already delayed things so much that there was not time for some one else to rewrite the chapter, and so the paper came out without any novel in it. It was but a feeble, struggling, stupid journal, and the absence of the novel probably shook public confidence; at any rate, before the first side of the next issue went to press, the Weekly Occidental died as peacefully as an infant.
An effort was made to resurrect it, with the proposed advantage of a telling new t.i.tle, and Mr. F. said that The Phenix would be just the name for it, because it would give the idea of a resurrection from its dead ashes in a new and undreamed of condition of splendor; but some low- priced smarty on one of the dailies suggested that we call it the Lazarus; and inasmuch as the people were not profound in Scriptural matters but thought the resurrected Lazarus and the dilapidated mendicant that begged in the rich man"s gateway were one and the same person, the name became the laughing stock of the town, and killed the paper for good and all.
I was sorry enough, for I was very proud of being connected with a literary paper-prouder than I have ever been of anything since, perhaps. I had written some rhymes for it-poetry I considered it-and it was a great grief to me that the production was on the "first side" of the issue that was not completed, and hence did not see the light. But time brings its revenges-I can put it in here; it will answer in place of a tear dropped to the memory of the lost Occidental. The idea (not the chief idea, but the vehicle that bears it) was probably suggested by the old song called "The Raging Ca.n.a.l," but I cannot remember now. I do remember, though, that at that time I thought my doggerel was one of the ablest poems of the age: THE AGED PILOT MAN.
On the Erie Ca.n.a.l, it was, All on a summer"s day, I sailed forth with my parents Far away to Albany.
From out the clouds at noon that day There came a dreadful storm, That piled the billows high about, And filled us with alarm.
A man came rushing from a house, Saying, "Snub up your boat I pray, [The customary ca.n.a.l technicality for "tie up."]
Snub up your boat, snub up, alas, Snub up while yet you may."
Our captain cast one glance astern, Then forward glanced he, And said, "My wife and little ones I never more shall see."
Said Dollinger the pilot man, In n.o.ble words, but few,-- "Fear not, but lean on Dollinger, And he will fetch you through."