15. 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?
My distress, I repeat, was uncommonly great,
and in the midst of it I was executed; which put
an end to the quandary.
