Southern Administration Of Justice
IT is just a week since Nicholas committed the heinous offence of wounding officer Monsel in the arm. That distinguished personage, having been well cared for, is-to use a common phrase-about again, as fresh as ever. With Nicholas the case is very different. His bruised and lacerated body, confined in an unhealthy cell, has received little care. Suspicion of treachery has been raised against him; his name has become a terror throughout the city; and all his bad qualities have been magnified five-fold, while not a person can be found to say a word in praise of his good. That he always had some secret villainy in view no one for a moment doubts; that he intended to raise an insurrection among the blacks every one is quite sure; and that confession of all his forelaid evil designs may be extorted from him, the cruellest means have been resorted to.
The day upon which the trial is to take place has arrived. On the south side of Broad Street there stands a small wooden building, the boarding discoloured and decayed, looking as if it had been accidentally dropped between the walls of two brick buildings standing at its sides. In addition, it has the appearance of one side having been set at a higher elevation than the other for some purpose of convenience known only to its occupants. About fifteen feet high, its front possesses a plain door, painted green, two small windows much covered with dust, and a round port-hole over the door. A sheet of tin, tacked above the door, contains, in broad yellow letters, the significant names of "Fetter and Felsh, Attorneys at Law." Again, on a board about the size of a shingle, hanging from a nail at the right side of the door, is "Jabez Fetter, Magistrate." By these unmistakeable signs we feel assured of its being the department where the legal firm of Fetter and Felsh do their customers-that is, where they dispose of an immense amount of legal filth for which the state pays very acceptable fees. Squire Fetter, as he is usually called, is extremely tall and well-formed, and, though straight of person, very crooked in morals. With an oval and ruddy face, nicely trimmed whiskers, soft blue eyes, tolerably good teeth, he is considered rather a handsome man. But (to use a vulgar phrase) he is death on night orgies and nigger trials. He may be seen any day of the week, about twelve o'clock, standing his long figure in the door of his legal domicile, his hat touching the sill, looking up and then down the street, as if waiting the arrival of a victim upon whom to pronounce one of his awful judgments. Felsh is a different species of person, being a short, stunted man, with a flat, inexpressive face. He has very much the appearance of a man who had been clumsily thrown together for any purpose future circumstances might require. Between these worthies and one Hanz Von Vickeinsteighner there has long existed a business connection, which is now being transferred into a fraternity of good fellowship. Hanz Von Vickeinsteighner keeps a small grocery, a few doors below: that is, Von, in a place scarcely large enough to turn his fat sides without coming in contact with the counter, sells onions, lager-beer, and whiskey; the last-named article is sure to be very bad, inasmuch as his customers are principally negroes. Von is considered a very clever fellow, never a very bad citizen, and always on terms of politeness with a great many squires, and other members of the legal profession. A perfect picture of the good-natured Dutchman is Von, as seen standing his square sides in his doorway, stripped to his sleeves, his red cap tipped aside, a crooked grin on his broad fat face, and his hands thrust beneath a white apron into his nether pockets. Von has a great relish for squires and police officers, esteems them the salt of all good, nor ever charges them a cent for his best-brewed lager-beer. There is, however, a small matter of business in the way, which Von, being rather a sharp logician, thinks it quite as well to reconcile with beer. The picture is complete, when of a morning, some exciting negro case being about to be brought forward, Fetter and Von may be seen, as before described, standing importantly easy in their respective doors; while Felsh paces up and down the side-walk, seemingly in deep study. On these occasions it is generally said Von makes the criminal "niggers," Felsh orders them caught and brought before Fletter, and Fetter passes awful judgment upon them. Now and then, Felsh will prosecute on behalf of the state, for which that generous embodiment of bad law is debtor the fees.
The city clock has struck twelve; Fetter stands in his doorway, his countenance wearing an air of great seriousness. Felsh saunters at the outside, now and then making some legal remark on a point of the negro statutes, and at every turn casting his bleared eye up the street. Presently, Nicholas is seen, his hands pinioned, and a heavy chain about his neck, approaching between two officials. A crowd follows; among it are several patriotic persons who evince an inclination to wrest him from the officials, that they may, according to Judge Lynch's much-used privileges, wreak their vengeance in a summary manner. "The boy Nicholas is to be tried to- day!" has rung through the city: curious lookers-on begin to assemble round the squire's office, and Hanz Von Vickeinsteighner is in great good humour at the prospect of a profitable day at his counter.
"Bring the criminal in!" says Squire Fetter, turning into his office as Nicholas is led in,--still bearing the marks of rough usage. Rows of board seats stretch across the little nook, which is about sixteen feet wide by twenty long, the floor seeming on the verge of giving way under its professional burden. The plaster hangs in broken flakes from the walls, which are exceedingly dingy, and decorated with festoons of melancholy cobwebs. At the farther end is an antique book-case of pine slats, on which are promiscuously thrown sundry venerable-looking works on law, papers, writs, specimens of minerals, branches of coral, aligators' teeth, several ship's blocks, and a bit of damaged fishing-tackle. This is Felsh's repository of antique collections; what many of them have to do with his rough pursuit of the learned profession we leave to the reader's discrimination. It has been intimated by several waggishly-inclined gentlemen, that a valuable record of all the disobedient "niggers" Fetter had condemned to be hung might be found among this confused collection of antiquities. A deal table, covered with a varnished cloth, standing on the right side of the room, and beside which a ponderous arm-chair is raised a few inches, forms Fetter's tribune. Hanging from the wall, close behind this, is a powder-horn and flask, several old swords, a military hat somewhat broken, and sundry other indescribable things, enough to make one's head ache to contemplate.
The office is become crowded to excess, the prisoner (his hands unpinioned, but the heavy chain still about his neck!) is placed in a wooden box fronting the squire's table, as a constable is ordered to close the court. It is quite evident that Fetter has been taking a little too much on the previous night; but, being a "first-rate drinker," his friends find an apology in the arduousness of his legal duties. In answer to a question from Felsh, who has been looking at the prisoner somewhat compassionately, the serving constable says two of the jury of "freeholders" he has summoned have not yet made their appearance. Fetter, who was about to take his seat in the great chair, and open court, politely draws forth his watch, and after addressing a few words to the persons present, on the necessity of keeping order in a court with such high functions, whispers a few words in Felsh's ear, holding his hand to his mouth the while.
"Maintain order in court!" says Fetter, nodding his head to the official; "we will return in five minutes." Soon they are seen passing into Von's crooked establishment, where, joined by a number of very fashionable friends, they "take" of the "hardware" he keeps in a sly place under the counter, in a special bottle for his special customers. Having taken several special glasses, Fetter is much annoyed at sundry remarks made by his friends, who press round him, seeming anxious to instruct him on intricate points of the "nigger statutes." One hopes he will not let the nigger off without a jolly good hanging; another will bet his life Felsh takes care of that small item, for then his claim on the state treasury will be doubled. And now, Fetter finding that Felsh, having imbibed rather freely of the liquid, hath somewhat diminished his brilliant faculties, will take him by the arm and return into court. With all the innate dignity of great jurists they enter their sanctum of justice, as the usher exclaims, "Court! Court!-hats off and cigars out!"
"Jury are present?" enquires Fetter, with great gravity, bowing to one side and then to the other, as he resumes his seat on the tribune.
"Present, yer 'oner;" the officer answers in a deep, gruff voice, as he steps forward and places a volume of the revised statutes before that high jurist. Fetter moves the book to his left, where Felsh has taken his seat. With placid countenance and softest accents, Fetter orders the prisoner at the bar to stand up while our constable calls the names of the jurymen.
Our victim of democracy's even-handed justice obeys the summons, rising as his dark eyes flash angrily, and that hatred wrong which lurks in his bosom seems kindling anew. "James M'Neilty! Terrance M'Quade! Harry Johanna! Baldwin Dobson! Patrick Henessy! Be dad and I have um all now, yer 'oner," ejaculates the official, exultingly, as one by one the "nigger jurymen" respond to the call and take their seats on a wooden slab at the right of his Honour, squire Fetter. "You are, I may be sure, gentlemen, freeholders?" enquires his honour, with a mechanical bow. They answer simultaneously in the affirmative, and then, forming in a half circle, lay their hands on a volume of Byron, which Fetter makes do for a Bible, and subscribe to the sacred oath Felsh administers. By the Giver of all Good will they return a verdict according to the evidence and the facts. "Gentlemen will take their seats" (the officer must preserve order in the court!) "the prisoner may also sit down," says Felsh, the words falling from his lips with great gravity, as, opening the revised statutes, he rises to address the jury.
"Gentlemen of the Jury!"-suddenly hesitates for a moment-"the solemn duties which you are now called upon to perform" (at this moment Terrance M'Quade draws a small bottle from his pocket, and after helping himself to a portion of its contents passes it to his fellows, much to the surprise of the learned Felsh, who hopes such indecorum will cease) "and they are duties which you owe to the safety of the state as well as to the protection of your own families, are much enhanced by the superior mental condition of the criminal before you." Here Mr. Felsh calls for a volume of Prince's Digest, from which he instructs the jury upon several important points of the law made and provided for making the striking a white person by a slave or person of colour a capital offence. "Your honour, too, will see the case to which I refer-'State and Prudence!'" The learned gentleman extends the book, that his august eyes may have a near view.
"Your word is quite sufficient, Mr. Felsh," returns Fetter, his eyes half closed, as he waves his hand, adding that he is perfectly posted on the case cited. "Page 499, I think you said?" he continues, placing his thumbs in his waistcoat armlets, with an air of indifference.
"Yes, your honour," rejoins Felsh, with a polite bow. His honour, ordering a glass of water mixed with a little brandy, Mr. Felsh continues:--"The case, gentlemen, before you, is that of the 'State v. Nicholas.' This case, gentlemen, and the committal of the heinous crime for which he stands arraigned before you, has excited no small amount of interest in the city. It is one of those peculiar cases where intelligence creeps into the property interest of our noble institution-the institution of slavery-makes the property restless, disobedient to the will and commands of the master, disaffected to the slave population, and dangerous to the peace and the progress of the community. Now, gentlemen" (his honour has dropped into a moderate nap-Mr. Felsh pauses for a moment, and touches him gently on the shoulder, as he suddenly resumes his wonted attention, much to the amusement of those assembled) "you will be told by the witnesses we shall here produce, that the culprit is an exceedingly intelligent and valuable piece of property, and as such might, even now, be made extremely valuable to his master"--Mr. Grabguy is in court, watching his interests!-"who paid a large sum for him, and was more than anxious to place him at the head of his manufacturing establishment, which office he was fully capable of filling. Now, gentlemen-his honour will please observe this point-much as I may consider the heavy loss the master will suffer by the conviction of the prisoner, and which will doubtless be felt severely by him, I cannot help impressing upon you the necessity of overlooking the individual loss to the master, maintaining the law, and preserving the peace of the community and stability of our noble institution. That t............