Chariot on the Mountain

by Jack Ford

  “And what reason was that?” Strother asked doubtfully.

  “Kitty was Samuel’s daughter,” she said softly.

  “I beg your pardon,” Strother said, puzzled. “I don’t think I heard you.”

  Mary sat up, straightened her shoulders, and looked directly at the jurors. “I said that Samuel was Kitty’s father,” she said boldly.

  There was an audible gasp in the courtroom. The twelve men in the jury seats looked at Mary in astonishment. Moffet Strother appeared so disconcerted by Mary’s statement that he was speechless.

  At the defense table, Kitty closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she looked first to the jurors—none of whom returned her glance—and then back to Mary. She had hoped, for Mary’s sake, that this—an admission in open court, before friends and neighbors, of Samuel’s infidelity with a slave woman, a fact perhaps suspected but never spoken—would somehow not be necessary. But after the shock of hearing the words said aloud in the sanctity of a courtroom, she felt strangely relieved, almost jubilant. Although she knew that it certainly must have pained Mary to confirm this fact so publicly, the disclosure released a feeling of satisfaction deep within Kitty, a satisfaction that now all would know exactly who she was and where she had come from. A satisfaction that this part of her life was no longer shrouded in secrecy. And with that satisfaction came a renewed sense of purpose, a flaring of her resolve that challenging Sam Maddox in this courtroom had been the right thing for her to do. And with it also came a surging new wave of gratitude for Mary and her willingness to completely uproot her life in order to ensure Kitty’s freedom.

  Mary took a deep breath and continued. “Samuel fathered Kitty with one of our female slaves. After the birth, her mother was sold. Samuel always treated Kitty differently from the other slaves because of that . . . relationship. So it was not surprising to me that his dying wish was to set her and her children free.” Mary turned away from the jurors and back to Strother. “That may shock you, Mr. Strother, and it may shock others in this courtroom, as well. But it happens to be the truth. And that is why I fully intend to follow Samuel’s last wish.”

  Strother, stunned by this turn of events—and the resoluteness of Mary’s admission—struggled to regain his demeanor. “So,” he stammered, “you are telling this court, upon your oath, that your late husband sired this”—he turned and pointed to Kitty—“this slave? And that is why he allegedly desired to free her?”

  “That is correct, Mr. Strother,” Mary said calmly. “That is, in fact, my testimony.”

  Moffet Strother, still flustered by Mary’s revelation, walked over to his counsel table and made a point of shuffling through his notes before he looked up at the judge. “Your Honor, I would extend my thanks to this witness. I have no additional questions at this time,” he said.

  “The witness is then excused, with the thanks of the court. You may step down, Mistress Maddox,” Judge Field said.

  As Mary stood and walked to her seat, there was a wave of muttering throughout the chamber.

  The judge rapped the bench sharply with his gavel. “We shall be in recess for a brief period.” He looked to Zephania Turner. “Please be prepared to call your next witness when we return, Mr. Turner.”

  CHAPTER 61

  ONCE THE JUDGE HAD LEFT THE BENCH, KITTY, MARY, AND FANNY, led by Zephania Turner, began to weave their way through the crowded courtroom, heading toward the hallway. As Mary passed among the spectators, it was as if Moses was parting the Red Sea. Many of the men and women stepped aside respectfully. Some purposely turned their backs on her, while words such as “ungrateful,” “trash,” and “traitor” were muttered loud enough for her to hear.

  Outside the courtroom, Turner ushered the group into a small sitting room and closed the door behind them. He turned immediately to Mary.

  “That was a courageous thing to do,” he said kindly.

  Fanny shook her head in agreement, while Kitty grasped Mary’s hands.

  “You should not have said that . . . not in public,” Kitty said gently. “Some out there will never forgive you for that.”

  Mary offered a resigned shrug. “It’s not as if there weren’t rumors about it,” she said. “Sure some people been talkin’ about it for years. So now the truth’s out there. Just as well.” She paused and took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Like to throttle that no-account Strother, though,” she added.

  Fanny smiled. “Well, that certainly shut him up. Had no idea what to do after you said that out loud. Just stumbled around and finally sat down.”

  “But now you have to live with everybody knowin’ for sure about Master Samuel and me,” said Kitty, still holding on to Mary’s hands.

  “I just decided that it was the right thing to do. And the right time to do it. I can live with it now,” said Mary. “Kind of glad it’s finally public. Don’t need to pretend anymore.”

  “Well, it should certainly help our case,” said Turner. “Answers a big question the jurors would have been asking themselves.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Sheriff Walden leaned into the room. “The judge’s about to take the bench. Need y’all to come back inside,” he said.

  As they resumed their positions in the courtroom, the clerk announced that court was back in session. The judge entered from the door behind the bench and took his seat.

  “Mr. Turner, if you please,” the judge said to Turner.

  “May I request that the clerk call to the witness stand Mr. Charley Myers?” said Turner.

  After being summoned by the clerk, Myers was placed under oath and took his seat. Turner stood and strolled casually to the witness chair.

  “Mr. Myers, may I ask that you tell us where you currently reside?” asked Turner amiably.

  “Near Bendersville, in Adams County,” Myers said nervously, his fingers fidgeting and his eyes darting around the courtroom.

  “And is that in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. In Pennsylvania.”

  “Would you tell the court how it is that you, as a resident of Pennsylvania, have come all this way to testify here today?” said Turner.

  “Well,” Myers began, shifting his gaze constantly from the judge to the jurors and then back to Turner, “after I received a letter from you tellin’ me there was to be a trial, I volunteered to travel here to give my testimony.”

  “That’s a very long journey for you, Mr. Myers. Why would you volunteer to make such a trip? Are you being paid by anyone to be here?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then I ask you, sir, why?”

  Myers looked toward Kitty and nodded. “Don’t like what those fellers did to her. And was sorry I couldn’t stop it,” he said quietly. “So I thought the next best thing I could do is give my testimony and let the law provide the justice.”

  “We certainly appreciate your concern for justice and your willingness to undergo this journey. I promise you that I shall be brief so that you may return to your home as soon as possible.”

  “Appreciate that,” said Myers.

  “Am I correct that you own and operate a roadhouse tavern in the vicinity of Bear Mountain in Adams County?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And did you, sometime in the early morning of July twenty-fourth of last year, have occasion to be awakened by a group of men?”

  “Yes, sir, I was.”

  “Do you recognize anyone from that group in the courtroom today?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “Could I ask you to identify that person for us?”

  Myers shifted in his chair and pointed directly at Sam Maddox. “That man there. He was with ’em that night,” Myers said. “Seemed like he was the boss.”

  “Could you describe this encounter to the court and the jurors, please?”

  Myers related the events of that night, starting with being awakened by the pounding on his door and concluding with the return of the men to reclaim their horses.


  “Now, then, Mr. Myers,” said Turner, “where was the defendant, Sam Maddox, when you first saw him that night?”

  “He was on a horse, along with two other mounted men, and the man who’d been poundin’ on my door. And there was another feller in the wagon.”

  “Now, sir, when you saw these men a few hours later, was there anyone else accompanying them?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can you tell the court who else was with them?”

  “This woman right here,” Myers said, pointing at Kitty.

  “Where was she?” asked Turner.

  “In the back of the wagon. All tied up.”

  “Did you actually see her in the back of the wagon?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. Could tell that someone was back there, so I walked over by the wagon and peeked in. Saw her all tied up like a trussed pig. Believe the children were all tied up, too.”

  Turner paused a moment for dramatic effect and then continued. “Could you describe for us, Mr. Myers, her condition when you saw her?”

  Myers shot an angry glare at Sam Maddox before he answered, his jaw muscles clenching. “She was all beat up,” he said heatedly. “Blood all over her. Face all swollen up. Don’t think she was conscious. Looked like they just threw her in the back of the wagon and left her there. And the children,” he added quietly, “they was all cryin’.”

  “Please tell us what happened then,” said Turner.

  “They was all in a big hurry, so after waterin’ the horses, they just took off down the road like a bat outta hell.”

  “What then did you do?”

  “Knew somethin’ was seriously wrong, so I jumped on my horse and followed ’em till I got to the Wright place. They was the ones who had brought her”—again he pointed to Kitty—“by my place a few weeks before. I told them what was goin’ on. Then young John Wright, he grabbed a horse and took off after ’em.”

  “Had you ever seen any of those men before?” asked Turner.

  “No, sir,” Myers answered, shaking his head.

  “Ever seen any of them since?” asked Turner.

  “Not till today, when I saw him right here in the courtroom,” Myers said, pointing to Sam Maddox.

  “We thank you, Mr. Myers, for your willingness to journey here and for your testimony.” Turner turned to the judge. “Your Honor, I have completed my examination of this witness.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Turner,” said Judge Field. “Mr. Strother, do you have any questions of this witness?”

  “With the court’s permission, I will be brief,” said Strother, rising from his chair. “Mr. Myers, do you recall asking one of the men, when they first arrived, what their purpose was in traveling there that night?”

  “Yes, sir. I was more than a bit curious, given how late it was and the fact they was in such a rush.”

  “And that man told you, did he not, that they were seeking to locate a woman and children who belonged to Mr. Maddox? Is that not correct?”

  “Yes, sir, somethin’ like that. Believe he said they was lookin’ to find the man’s ‘woman,’ who’d run away.”

  “So they did not attempt to disguise in any way their purpose that night, did they?” Strother said, sounding quite pleased with the witness’s response.

  “No, sir, can’t say they did,” said Myers.

  “Quite so,” said Strother. “Thank you, Your Honor. My examination of this witness is complete.”

  “Mr. Myers, you are dismissed from this court, with our thanks to you, sir. Safe travels home,” said Judge Field.

  As Myers left the courtroom, he touched Kitty lightly on the shoulder and offered her a small smile. She nodded her thanks in return.

  CHAPTER 62

  “MR. TURNER, YOUR NEXT WITNESS, IF YOU PLEASE,” SAID THE judge.

  “Your Honor, I’d ask the clerk to please call Mr. John Wright to the witness stand,” said Turner.

  The young Quaker was summoned by the clerk, proffered his oath, and took his seat. He appeared to be even more ill at ease than Charley Myers had been, shifting nervously in his chair.

  “Mr. Wright,” Turner began, “can you tell us if you are also a resident of Adams County, in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania?”

  “That is correct,” the witness said.

  “Did you travel from your home with our previous witness, Mr. Myers, to testify here today?”

  “Yes, sir, I did.”

  “Would you tell the court and this jury why you have chosen to travel such a significant distance to provide your testimony?”

  John Wright looked at the jurors and then turned to gaze briefly at Kitty. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “When we learned in a letter from thee that there was to be a trial and that Miss Kitty intended to hold that man responsible for his inhumane conduct,” he said, inclining his head briefly toward Sam Maddox, “I felt that God would expect me to assist. And so, I am here.”

  “Now, Mr. Wright, you are a Quaker, are you not?” asked Turner.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “May I ask you to explain your beliefs as a Quaker?”

  John Wright inclined his head politely. “It is quite simple,” he said. “We believe that every person is loved and guided by God and that there is something of God in everyone. So that what is in me is also in thee.”

  “And are you, as a Quaker, guided by the words of the Bible?”

  “We certainly respect the words of the Bible, and we believe it to be one of many sources of wisdom. But we invite the Word of God to be written in our hearts, rather than as words on paper, and so we have no particular written creed. We believe that if we are sincerely open to the Divine Will, we will be guided by a wisdom that is more compelling than our own superficial thoughts and feelings.”

  “And can you tell us, as a Quaker, what your position is on the question of slavery?”

  The witness moved about uneasily in his chair, glancing worriedly first out at the audience and then at the judge before he began to respond. “I fear that my answer may be deemed an insult to many of thee gathered here today,” he said hesitantly.

  “I understand,” said Turner. “Nevertheless, I would request that you provide an answer to the question without regard to the feelings or emotions of those present.”

  “Well, then, I would say to thee that many of us believe that slavery is an abomination. That it is a refutation of the Word of God and of God’s will that all men are free beings, who are the repositories of God’s Word and His wisdom.”

  “You say ‘many’ of us believe,” said Turner. “Is that what you believe?”

  “Yes, sir, it is,” said Wright solemnly.

  “And have you acted on these beliefs?”

  “Yes, sir, I have.”

  “In what fashion?”

  “I—along with members of my family—have provided aid and assistance to slaves who have sought to escape their bondage and find freedom elsewhere,” Wright said proudly.

  “Is it in this fashion that you first came in contact with Miss Kitty?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Would you please relate those circumstances to the court and jury?” asked Turner.

  Wright related the story of how he had met Kitty and Mary and the children, and how they had all been hidden at his family’s home. He then detailed how he and his father had delivered them to the home of Amon Jones, a free black man, who was to provide them shelter in return for their labor until they were ready to set out on their own. Finally, prompted by questions from Turner, he described learning that Kitty had been abducted and his subsequent futile pursuit of the slave catchers and the wagon containing Kitty and the children.

  “You have our thanks, Mr. Wright,” Turner said, “for your efforts that day and for traveling all this way to provide your testimony today. Your Honor, my examination is complete,” Turner added to Judge Field.

  “Mr. Strother, do you require the opportunity to question this witness?” asked the judge.

&nbs
p; “With the court’s permission, again very briefly,” said Strother as he approached the witness chair.

  “Mr. Wright, I am curious. Do you detest all of us here who are slave owners?” Strother said caustically.

  “No, sir,” the witness said earnestly. “I try never to allow hatred to enter my heart. I may disagree with those who choose to own slaves, but I pray for their souls rather than hate them.”

  Strother shrugged dubiously. “But even if you profess not to hate all of us down here,” Strother said, with a pointed glance at the jurors, “I am correct, am I not, that you would do anything in your power to assist any of our slaves in escaping from us? Even if the law quite clearly states that these slaves are, indeed, our property?”

  Wright was silent for an awkward moment before he answered. “Thee are correct,” he said softly. “I do not hate thee. But I would do anything within my power—short of engaging in acts of violence—to help save these enslaved souls.”

  Strother shook his head disdainfully and turned his back on John Wright. “I have completed my examination, Your Honor.”

  CHAPTER 63

  AFTER JOHN WRIGHT HAD BEEN EXCUSED FROM THE COURTROOM, Turner stood and addressed the judge.

  “Your Honor, with the court’s permission, I would call the plaintiff, Miss Kitty, to offer her testimony.”

  Strother leaped to his feet, as if jolted by a bolt of lightning. “Your Honor, I must offer my objection to this outlandish attempt to circumvent the law,” he said indignantly. “My learned colleague surely knows that in the Commonwealth of Virginia the rule is—and always has been—that slaves have no right to testify in a court of law.”

  Judge Field raised his hand to silence Strother and looked to Turner. “Mr. Turner, is Mr. Strother not correct in his recitation of the controlling law in the commonwealth—that slaves cannot be allowed to testify and can have no voice in a matter such as this?” the judge asked.

  “He would, indeed, be correct, Your Honor . . . ,” Turner answered and then paused a beat. “He would be correct if Miss Kitty was, in fact, a slave. But she is not. We have submitted both the testimony of Mistress Maddox and the deed of manumission from Pennsylvania to prove that. As a free person—regardless of her prior status—she has the same right as every other citizen to offer testimony and have her voice be heard.” He turned toward Strother. “And my colleague, learned or otherwise,” he added archly, “must certainly realize that.”