The Marrow of Tradition

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by Charles W. Chesnutt


  XXI

  THE NECESSITY OF AN EXAMPLE

  About ten o'clock on the morning of the discovery of the murder, CaptainMcBane and General Belmont, as though moved by a common impulse, foundthemselves at the office of the Morning Chronicle. Carteret wasexpecting them, though there had been no appointment made. These threeresourceful and energetic minds, representing no organized body, andclothed with no legal authority, had so completely arrogated tothemselves the leadership of white public sentiment as to come togetherinstinctively when an event happened which concerned the public, and, asthis murder presumably did, involved the matter of race.

  "Well, gentlemen," demanded McBane impatiently, "what are we going to dowith the scoundrel when we catch him?"

  "They've got the murderer," announced a reporter, entering the room.

  "Who is he?" they demanded in a breath.

  "A nigger by the name of Sandy Campbell, a servant of old Mr. Delamere."

  "How did they catch him?"

  "Our Jerry saw him last night, going toward Mrs. Ochiltree's house, anda white man saw him coming away, half an hour later."

  "Has he confessed?"

  "No, but he might as well. When the posse went to arrest him, they foundhim cleaning the clothes he had worn last night, and discovered in hisroom a part of the plunder. He denies it strenuously, but it seems aclear case."

  "There can be no doubt," said Ellis, who had come into the room behindthe reporter. "I saw the negro last night, at twelve o'clock, going intoMr. Delamere's yard, with a bundle in his hand."

  "He is the last negro I should have suspected," said Carteret. "Mr.Delamere had implicit confidence in him."

  "All niggers are alike," remarked McBane sententiously. "The only way tokeep them from stealing is not to give them the chance. A nigger willsteal a cent off a dead man's eye. He has assaulted and murdered a whitewoman,--an example should be made of him."

  Carteret recalled very distinctly the presence of this negro at his ownresidence on the occasion of little Theodore's christening dinner. Heremembered having questioned the prudence of letting a servant know thatMrs. Ochiltree kept money in the house. Mr. Delamere had insistedstrenuously upon the honesty of this particular negro. The whole race,in the major's opinion, was morally undeveloped, and only held withinbounds by the restraining influence of the white people. Under Mr.Delamere's thumb this Sandy had been a model servant,--faithful, docile,respectful, and self-respecting; but Mr. Delamere had grown old, and hadprobably lost in a measure his moral influence over his servant. Left tohis own degraded ancestral instincts, Sandy had begun to deteriorate,and a rapid decline had culminated in this robbery and murder,--and whoknew what other horror? The criminal was a negro, the victim a whitewoman;--it was only reasonable to expect the worst.

  "He'll swing for it," observed the general.

  Ellis went into another room, where his duty called him.

  "He should burn for it," averred McBane. "I say, burn the nigger."

  "This," said Carteret, "is something more than an ordinary crime, to bedealt with by the ordinary processes of law. It is a murderous and fatalassault upon a woman of our race,--upon our race in the person of itswomanhood, its crown and flower. If such crimes are not punished withswift and terrible directness, the whole white womanhood of the South isin danger."

  "Burn the nigger," repeated McBane automatically.

  "Neither is this a mere sporadic crime," Carteret went on. "It issymptomatic; it is the logical and inevitable result of the conditionswhich have prevailed in this town for the past year. It is the laststraw."

  "Burn the nigger," reiterated McBane. "We seem to have the right nigger,but whether we have or not, burn _a_ nigger. It is an assault upon thewhite race, in the person of old Mrs. Ochiltree, committed by the blackrace, in the person of some nigger. It would justify the white people inburning _any_ nigger. The example would be all the more powerful if wegot the wrong one. It would serve notice on the niggers that we shallhold the whole race responsible for the misdeeds of each individual."

  "In ancient Rome," said the general, "when a master was killed by aslave, all his slaves were put to the sword."

  "We couldn't afford that before the war," said McBane, "but the niggersdon't belong to anybody now, and there's nothing to prevent our doing aswe please with them. A dead nigger is no loss to any white man. I say,burn the nigger."

  "I do not believe," said Carteret, who had gone to the window and waslooking out,--"I do not believe that we need trouble ourselvespersonally about his punishment. I should judge, from the commotion inthe street, that the public will take the matter into its own hands. I,for one, would prefer that any violence, however justifiable, shouldtake place without my active intervention."

  "It won't take place without mine, if I know it," exclaimed McBane,starting for the door.

  "Hold on a minute, captain," exclaimed Carteret. "There's more at stakein this matter than the life of a black scoundrel. Wellington is in thehands of negroes and scalawags. What better time to rescue it?"

  "It's a trifle premature," replied the general. "I should have preferredto have this take place, if it was to happen, say three months hence, onthe eve of the election,--but discussion always provokes thirst with me;I wonder if I could get Jerry to bring us some drinks?"

  Carteret summoned the porter. Jerry's usual manner had taken on anelement of self-importance, resulting in what one might describe as asort of condescending obsequiousness. Though still a porter, he was alsoa hero, and wore his aureole.

  "Jerry," said the general kindly, "the white people are very muchpleased with the assistance you have given them in apprehending thisscoundrel Campbell. You have rendered a great public service, Jerry, andwe wish you to know that it is appreciated."

  "Thank y', gin'l, thank y', suh! I alluz tries ter do my duty, suh, an'stan' by dem dat stan's by me. Dat low-down nigger oughter be lynch',suh, don't you think, er e'se bu'nt? Dere ain' nothin' too bad terhappen ter 'im."

  "No doubt he will be punished as he deserves, Jerry," returned thegeneral, "and we will see that you are suitably rewarded. Go across thestreet and get me three Calhoun cocktails. I seem to have nothing lessthan a two-dollar bill, but you may keep the change, Jerry,--all thechange."

  Jerry was very happy. He had distinguished himself in the public view,for to Jerry, as to the white people themselves, the white people werethe public. He had won the goodwill of the best people, and had alreadybegun to reap a tangible reward. It is true that several strange whitemen looked at him with lowering brows as he crossed the street, whichwas curiously empty of colored people; but he nevertheless went firmlyforward, panoplied in the consciousness of his own rectitude, andserenely confident of the protection of the major and the major'sfriends.

  "Jerry is about the only negro I have seen since nine o'clock," observedthe general when the porter had gone. "If this were election day, wherewould the negro vote be?"

  "In hiding, where most of the negro population is to-day," answeredMcBane. "It's a pity, if old Mrs. Ochiltree had to go this way, that itcouldn't have been deferred a month or six weeks." Carteret frownedat this remark, which, coming from McBane, seemed lacking in humanfeeling, as well as in respect to his wife's dead relative.

  "But," resumed the general, "if this negro is lynched, as he welldeserves to be, it will not be without its effect. We still have inreserve for the election a weapon which this affair will only rendermore effective. What became of the piece in the negro paper?"

  "I have it here," answered Carteret. "I was just about to use it as thetext for an editorial."

  "Save it awhile longer," responded the general. "This crime itself willgive you text enough for a four-volume work."

  When this conference ended, Carteret immediately put into press an extraedition of the Morning Chronicle, which was soon upon the streets,giving details of the crime, which was characterized as an atrociousassault upon a defenseless old lady, whose age and sex would haveprotected her from harm at the hands o
f any one but a brute in thelowest human form. This event, the Chronicle suggested, had onlyconfirmed the opinion, which had been of late growing upon the whitepeople, that drastic efforts were necessary to protect the white womenof the South against brutal, lascivious, and murderous assaults at thehands of negro men. It was only another significant example of theresults which might have been foreseen from the application of a falseand pernicious political theory, by which ignorance, clothed in a littlebrief authority, was sought to be exalted over knowledge, vice overvirtue, an inferior and degraded race above the heaven-crownedAnglo-Saxon. If an outraged people, justly infuriated, and impatient ofthe slow processes of the courts, should assert their inherentsovereignty, which the law after all was merely intended to embody, andshould choose, in obedience to the higher law, to set aside,temporarily, the ordinary judicial procedure, it would serve as awarning and an example to the vicious elements of the community, of theswift and terrible punishment which would fall, like the judgment ofGod, upon any one who laid sacrilegious hands upon white womanhood.

 

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