Part 18 (1/2)
A DELAWARE LEGEND--A STORY OF THE OLD TIME--THE CHRISTMAS PLAY--A CRUEL ACCUSATION--THE FLIGHT IN THE DARKNESS ALONG THE RIVER Sh.o.r.e--THE TRIAL AND THE CONDEMNATION--ST. PILLORY'S DAY SEVENTY YEARS AGO--FLOGGING A WOMAN--THE DELIVERANCE.
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While the scenes at the whipping-post on flogging-day are fresh in my mind, I have written down the story of Mary Engle. It is a Delaware legend, and the events of which it speaks occurred, I will say, seventy-odd years ago, when they were in the habit of las.h.i.+ng women in this very town of New Castle.
It was on Christmas day that a little party had a.s.sembled in the old Newton mansion to partic.i.p.ate in the festivities for which, at this season of the year, it was famous all the country over. The house stood upon the river bank, three miles and more from New Castle, and in that day it was considered the greatest and handsomest building in the whole neighborhood. A broad lawn swept away from it down to the water's edge, and in summer-time this was covered with bright-colored flowers and bounded by green hedges. Now the gra.s.s was bleached with the cold; the hedges were brown and sere, and the huge old trees, stripped of their foliage, moaned and creaked and s.h.i.+vered in the wind, rattling their branches together as if seeking sympathy with each other in their desolation.
Inside the mansion the scene was as cheerful as life and fun and high spirits could make it.
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Old Major Newton, the lord and master of all the wide estates, was one of the race of country gentlemen who introduced to this continent the manners, habits and large hospitality of the better cla.s.s of English squires of his day. He was a mighty fox-hunter, as many a brush hung in his dining-hall could attest. A believer in the free use of the good things of life, his sideboard always contained a dozen decanters, from which the coming, the remaining and the parting guests were expected to follow the major's example in drinking deeply. His table was always profusely supplied with good fare, and dining with him was the great duty and pleasure of the day. He was a gentleman in education, and to some extent in his tastes; but his manners partook of the coa.r.s.eness of his time, for he swore fierce oaths, and his temper was quick, terrible and violent. His forty negro slaves were treated with indulgent kindness while they obeyed him implicitly, but any attempt at insubordination upon their part called down upon their heads a volley of oaths and that savage punishment which the major considered necessary to discipline.
To-day the major had been out of spirits, and had not joined heartily in the hilarity of the company, which, despite the gloom of the master, made the old house ring with the merriment and laughter due to the happiness of Christmas time.
At five o'clock dinner was done; and the ladies having withdrawn, the cloth was removed, the wine and whisky and apple-toddy, and a half dozen other beverages, were brought out, and the major, with his male guests, began the serious work of the repast. The major sat at the head of the table; Dr. Ricketts, a jolly bachelor of fifty, who neglected medicine that he might better spend his fortune in a life of ease and pleasure, presided at the lower end of the board, upon the flanks of which sat a dozen gentlemen from the neighboring estates, among them Tom Willitts, from the adjoining farm, and d.i.c.k Newton, the major's only son.
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The conversation languished somewhat. The major was as gloomy as he had been earlier in the day. d.i.c.k seemed to sympathize with his father. Tom Willitts was impatient to have the drinking bout over, that he might go to the parlor, where his thoughts already wandered, and where his _fiancee_, Mary Engle, the fair governess in the major's family, awaited him. The guests at last began to be depressed by the want of spirits in their host; and if it had not been for Doctor Ricketts, there would have been a dull time indeed. But the doctor was talkative, lively and wholly indifferent to the taciturnity of his companions. His weakness was a fondness for theorizing, and he rattled on from topic to topic, heedless of anything but the portly goblet which he replenished time and again from the decanter and the punch-bowl.
At last he exclaimed, in the hope of rousing his host from his apparent despondency, ”And now let's have a song from the major. Give us the 'Tally Ho!' Newton.”
”I can't sing it to-day, gentlemen,” said the major; ”the fact is I am a good deal out of sorts. I have met with a misfortune, and I--”
”Why, what's happened?” exclaimed the whole company.
”Why,” said the major, with an oath, ”I've lost my famous old diamond brooch--a jewel, gentlemen, given to my father by George II.--a jewel that I valued more than all the world beside. It was the reward given to my father for a brave and gallant deed at the battle of Dettingen, and its rare intrinsic value was trifling beside that which it possessed as the evidence of my father's valor.”
”How did you lose it, major?” asked the doctor.
”I went to my desk this morning, and found that the lock had been picked, the inside drawer broken open and the brooch taken from its box.”
”Who could have done it?”
”I can't imagine,” replied the major; ”I don't think any of those n.i.g.g.e.rs would have done such a thing. I've searched them all, but it's of no use, sir--no use; it's gone. But if I ever lay hands on the scoundrel, I'll flay him alive--I will, indeed, even if it should be d.i.c.k there;” and the old man gulped down a heavy draught of port, as if to drown his grief.
”My theory about such crimes,” said the doctor, ”is that the persons committing them are always more or less insane.”
”Insane!” swore the major, fiercely. ”If I catch the man who did this, I'll fit him for a hospital!”
”We are all a little daft at times--when we are angry, in love, in extreme want, or excited by intense pa.s.sion of any kind,” said the doctor. ”Extreme ignorance, being neglect of one's intellectual faculties, is a kind of insanity, and so is the perversion of the moral perceptions of those who are educated to a life of crime from their childhood. My theory is that punishment should be so inflicted as to restore reason, not merely to wreak vengeance.”
”And my theory is that every vagabond who breaks the laws ought to be flogged and imprisoned, so that he may know that society will not tolerate crime. Hang your fine-spun theories about the beggars who prey upon the community!” said the major, rising and kicking back his chair ill-naturedly.
The doctor had nothing more to say, and the company withdrew to the parlor.
There, gathered around the great fireplace, sat Mrs. Newton, her daughters--both children--Mary Engle, their tutor, Mrs. Willitts and the wives of the gentlemen who had come from the dinner-table.
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