The man left there by the doctor, I knew. After viewing him closely, consider my surprise, when I recognised a person I had known from my first remembrance. It was the man who was said by his son to have gone up the river, and, as I supposed, had returned home. It was the usual custom of this man, not to go with his flat boats, but being ladened and committed to skilful pilots, he took passage upon a steamboat and waited their arrival at the place of destination. He seemed very much disconcerted in my presence, but I said nothing to strengthen his suspicions that I knew him. He cast several glances at me, at every convenient opportunity. When he left, it was near night. I was requested by the colonel to go to my supper and then return. I went away, and being weary I laid down upon my bed, from which I did not awake till daylight. On examining my clothes, I found some person had rifled my pockets. My wallet was robbed of one paper, which contained a list of names, but nothing else. Fortunately, however, I had written the same on my hat lining. I expected to have heard something concerning the affair—especially the record of names, but in this I was happily disappointed.
Having eaten my breakfast, I went to the Custom house. The United States court was then in session. Hundreds of the colonel's acquaintances were there every day. They were frequently giving their opinions as tothe issue of the trial. Some entertained one opinion and some another,—their chief conversation was in reference to the two brothers, and their connection with Taylor. One of the group I discovered was from Lawrenceburgh, Indiana. I knew them all, and with the exception of this one, they extended to me the hand of friendship. They seemed glad to see me, and were in fact honest men. He, however, did not seem friendly, though he did speak, but at the same time gave me a look of disapprobation, as much as to say, you have no right to be in company with such honest men. I paid no attention to his looks, as I knew him better than any man in the crowd. He knew he had laid himself liable to detection, and hence did not wish me to be in communication with his old friends, lest I might become an informant. He rather desired to have them discard me, but as they were upright, unsuspecting men, they did not give heed to his conduct. They conversed freely, and tried in every way to amuse me. At length he discovered there was a growing sympathy in my favour, and assumed another attitude to secure my departure. He began to talk somewhat in the following strain.
"I know Green is a smart boy, but they say the Browns have him here to run on errands, and he is strongly suspected of not being what he should be, in regard to honesty."
One or two of the honest countrymen spoke in my behalf, and the whole was turned off in a jovial way, not wishing, as I suppose, to injure my feelings; at which he, with a sigh that bespoke the consummate hypocrite, added:
"Well, Green, God bless you. You had a saintedmother, and I always respected your old father, but you boys, I fear, are all in the downward road to ruin. You had better return home and be a good boy. Beware of the company of the Browns, as you know they are bad characters, and that I, and many others, held them at a distance, when they were in Lawrenceburgh."
The rest of the company retired while he was thus lecturing me so sanctimoniously.
No one can imagine the feelings I then had. I was at first confounded, then enraged, to witness the conduct of that black-hearted villain, he little suspecting that I knew him to be the very man that was in the room the day before, dressed in disguise. How could I feel otherwise. There he was lecturing me about duty, as if he had been a saint. It is true, he sustained that character at home. I had known him for many years as a leading man in the very respectable church to which he there belonged. Had I not been satisfied of the base part he was acting, when I met him the day before in disguise—his hypocritical lecture might have been beneficial. But I discovered he was an arrant knave—a real whitewashed devil, and I could with difficulty refrain from telling him my thoughts. I left, wondering how such a Judas could go so long "unwhipt of justice"—how he could avoid exposure. Probably it was by a change of dress.
It was now time I had visited the hospital, to show reason why I had not fulfilled my engagement on the previous evening. The colonel received me with a welcome countenance, and remarked, he "was glad I had returned, for," said he, "I feared you had gone away."
I told him I was weary when I went home; that after supper I had laid down to rest a few minutes, and sleptlonger than I intended, and that was the reason I had not returned. He was satisfied with my excuse, and introduced another subject. He inquired if I had heard any news, or seen any of the Lawrenceburgh citizens; and if so, had his name been mentioned? I replied, that it had been the principal topic of conversation, some speaking well of him, and others illy. He then wished to know, who had spoken evil of him? I told him the man's name.
"And he talked about me, did he?" inquired the colonel.
I replied, "He has spoken very hard things against you, alleging that he never associated or had any dealings with you."
"He told you, he never had any dealings with me? What did you think of that?"
I answered, "When you resided in Lawrenceburgh, I was too small to notice such things."
I answered thus designedly, for I had seen him walking arm and arm with the colonel, time and again, but I was afraid to let the colonel know that I had even a moderate share of sagacity.
"Green, how often have you seen him," continued the colonel, "and where, since you have been in the city? You know his son said, he had returned home, a few days since, when you carried him the letter."
I told him I had not seen him before, since I came to the city.
"Are you certain of that?"
"I am confident I have not seen him."
"You are mistaken," said he, "you met him yesterday."
I knew what he meant, but dared not let him know that I had recognised him. Again he interrogated me:
"Do you not recollect him?" at the same time eyeing me with an intensity of expression. I replied that I was certain I had not seen him.
"You are mistaken," said the colonel. "You met him here yesterday. He was the man that remained after the doctor had left."
"It cannot be," I rejoined. "You must be mistaken, as I was certain that man had light hair, nearly red."
"It was him, Green," said he. "He had a wig on, but for your life mention not a syllable of this to your best friend. He is a villain of the deepest dye, and I know him to be such."
I, of course, agreed that I might have been mistaken.
"He knew you," continued the colonel, "and was the worst frightened man I ever saw, for fear you would recognise him. I am glad you did not, for it might have cost you your life."
"I suppose, then, colonel," said I, "he intends furnishing you with bail, does he not?"
"He did not manifest such a determination, did he, when you met him?"
I replied: "He might have had his reasons for acting as he did; it may be, it was to find out whether I knew him as the person I met here yesterday. You say, colonel, then, I actually met him yesterday?"
"Yes, he is the very villain. I know enough about him to make him stretch hemp, if he had his dues."
I told him he was esteemed by many, where he lived, to be a very good man.
"Yes, they respect him for his riches," said the colonel; "but they would not respect either him, or many of his neighbours, if all knew them as well as I do."
After this, he proceeded to give me the promised advice, and addressed me thus:
"Green, I believe you are a good boy, but have been imposed on by the world. I am about to give you some advice. I feel it right I should do so. I am in bad health, and can never recover, and my only object in procuring bail was to secure a decent burial, but I have no hope. Green, I tell you this, that you may know the condition in which you are placed. You are surrounded by a set of devils incarnate, and you know them not. You are just entering upon a life of misery and crime. You can now see, to a limited extent, what has caused me to lead a wretched and abandoned life. As soon as you can, leave this place. You know not your danger. You have about you some desperate enemies. I have told the most inveterate of them, that they were mistaken as to your character."
I here inquired what they accused me of.
He continued, "Of being treacherous to one of the brotherhood, of which my brother is a member."
"I never knew before that such a society existed," said I.
"They accuse you of three different crimes. You know whether there is any foundation for the charges. First, that you agreed to swear against Taylor; then, after the spurious money was placed in your hands, you gave the facts to Taylor's lawyer, and that your evidence will now be used in his favour. If such is the case, I advise you to abandon such a purpose, for you will certainly lose your life if you persist in this thing."
I denied to him any such intention.
"Well," said he, "what have you done then with those five one-hundred-dollar notes given you by one of the assistant attorneys of my brother?"
I replied, "They are in my chest."
"If such is the case, it will make every thing satisfactory in that matter."
I now left, and went to Mr. Munger, and related the substance of my late interview. He handed me the notes that I might make good my declaration. I took them immediately to the hospital. When I entered I found two merchants, who resided at Memphis, in close conversation with the colonel. He told me to call again at two o'clock. About that time, I returned. The visitors were gone, but the colonel appeared much distressed. Some new event must have added to his former anxiety.
"I wish you," said he, "to bring those notes and let me see them."
Having them in my pocket, I presented them to him.
"I am glad you have them. You have been strongly suspected of foul play—of giving them into the hands of the defendant."
I was well convinced from this, that it was one of the clan who had rummaged my trunk and pockets a few days previous. I then asked him, what else they had laid to my charge?
He replied: "A man by the name of Sandford gave information to my brother, that a certain amount of money had been hidden by him. Sandford died, and gave the money to my brother, and gave directions where he could find it. My brother prepared a note for his wife, andtold her where she could find the money, and my brother reached the note to the wrong person." [SeeGambling Unmasked.] "Some person told him you were the receiver; that they had seen you take the note."
I knew, however, that no one had seen me take it, that the whole was a mere conjecture—a plan to worm a confession out of me. Hence I denied it stoutly.
"I do not believe it myself," affirmed the colonel, "but the whole clan, remember, dislike you; among others, a negro trader, by the name of Goodrich. He has marked you out as a transgressor, and is determined to put you out of the way." I have mentioned this same Goodrich, once before. He is well known as one accustomed to sell runaway negroes, as a kidnapper, who lives with a wench, and has several mulatto children, and probably does a profitable business in selling his own offspring.
I replied, "I do not know Goodrich, and know as little about Sandford's money."
"Well, Green, I believe you are innocent of the two first accusations, and hope you may be of the third."
But now came the "tug of war." These others were only a preparatory step for a fearful inquisition. I knew what was coming, and mustered all my fortitude to meet the exigency. If ever there was a time when I was called upon to summon my collected energies, to express calmness and betoken innocence, it was on this occasion. The colonel, fixing his eagle-eye upon me with severest scrutiny, proceeded:
"A certain package of papers has been taken, which has produced a great excitement, and has caused me serious injury." When he mentionedpapers, there wasa sensible pause, and a piercing look which exhibited a determination to detect the slightest expression of guilt. I was enabled to command myself, however, in such a way, that I think I satisfied him I was not guilty.
In reply, I asked the colonel "Why they should accuse me of acting so base a part?"
"Unfortunately for you," said the colonel, "you have been seen talking with the friends of Taylor."
I replied, "Perhaps I have, for I cannot tell who are his friends, or who his enemies." I likewise asked him if he thought it possible I could or would do any thing to injure him.
"I think not," said he, "yet mankind are so base and deceitful, I have but little confidence in any one. I will now show you how dreadful must be my position in regard to the package, and then you can understand why its loss will go so hard with me."
I listened with the utmost attention, and he entered upon this part of the subject as follows:
"I am a member of a society called 'The Secret Band of Brothers.' It is an ancient order, of a religious (?) character. The leading members carry on an extensive correspondence with one another. All letters of business are subject to the order of the one who indites them, allowing the holder the privilege of retaining a copy. I had many letters written by leading men in my possession; besides a large package of copies. These with the original letters have been taken. Now, Green, you promise secrecy, and I will give you the whole plan, so far as in my power, and you can then judge how seriously I shall be affected if those papers are not recovered.
"At the time of my arrest, on the charges for which Iam to be tried, my friends were numerous and wealthy, and I had the utmost confidence in all their promises. The excitement was intense, and I did not deem it proper to call upon them until it should subside. After waiting a suitable length of time, I wrote to many of my acquaintances, and, among others, to several whose names are familiar to you. They were under personal obligations to me, aside from the common claims of friendship. They had made their thousands by plans of my own invention, and much of the very wealth which had given them distinction and influence was the fruit of my ingenuity. To my letters they made ready and satisfactory replies. They made the largest promises to give me any requisite assistance, when called upon, yet as often left me in suspense, or to reap the bitter fruit of disappointment. This was the reason why my trial was put off during several sessions of the court. My brother having been indicted with me, made the prospect of both more dubious. I had property, but not at my disposal. My wife betrayed my confidence, for having it in her power to send me pecuniary aid, she neglected to do it; indeed, all her conduct had a tendency to involve me in the net that was spread for my feet. Through her, information was given that I had friends who would assist me, which served as an excuse for her dereliction. This awakened the suspicions of community. There was an anxiety to know who would step forward to my rescue. Hence those from whom I expected aid became alarmed, lest their characters, which had hitherto been unblemished, should come into disrepute. Two of them are merchants in Dearborn county, Indiana. Some five of the most wealthy men of thatcounty were driven almost to desperation when they learned that my wife had it in her power to use their names in connection with deeply dishonourable acts. I, however, satisfied them that she would not expose them, and they in turn promised to assist me, writing several letters of commendation in my behalf, giving me an untarnished character as a merchant of high respectability in Lawrenceburgh. From time to time they promised to secure me bail, and yet they as often failed to make good their word. In this they violated the most solemn obligations. We were pledged to sustain each other to the last farthing, in case either became involved in difficulty. That pledge I had never broken, and I looked for the same fidelity on the part of my associates. I never before had occasion to test their sincerity, but found all their solemn promises a mere 'rope of sand.' I found I was gone, as far as they were concerned, and turned my efforts in another direction."
"I now had recourse to my friends in Chillicothe, Cleaveland, Buffalo, Detroit, Zanesville, Beaver, Lexington, Nashville, Philadelphia, New York city, Boston, and Cincinnati. As usual, they gave me the most liberal promises, but in no case fulfilled their engagements. I was now driven to new measures. I found those in whom I reposed the utmost confidence hollow-hearted and treacherous. I next entered upon the plan of making a certain villain share in my wretchedness and disgrace. In this I was joined by my brother, who, in perfecting the scheme, acted somewhat imprudently. I advised him to take a different course, but he listened to others who professed to befriends to us, and were, indeed,members of the same fraternity,[1]but turned out the worst kind of enemies, especially those who were wealthy. The poorer members were true to a man, and I am confident will remain so; and if I am spared, I will make the wealth of the others dance for their vile treatment. I have a thousand men who but wait my call. When I say the word, though they are of the same brotherhood, yet having also experienced the treachery and oppression of the higher class in common with myself, they will make war upon them whenever the signal is given."
Here he stopped for a few minutes, and then began to state the little trouble it would have given his friends to have aided him if they had felt disposed.
"But I am an invalid, and God knows I do not deserve such treatment." (The reader may think it strange that such a man should call upon his Maker, especially when he reads the constitution of the secret conclave, of which he was a member. The phrase "God knows," was used often in his private conversation.) "These persons I have always considered my friends, and have never given them occasion to be any thing else. Finding, however, that I had no hope from them, and that I must stand my trial, I was willing to make use of other means. I therefore agreed to proposals made by the most wealthy of my friends, and yielded to their arrangements, in order, if possible, to escape punishment. There was a man by the name of Taylor, the same whose trial is now pending, whom they feared, and who was known to community asan accomplished villain. He was the person selected upon whom it was designed to heap the burden of the guilt. By that means, the attention of our prosecutors would be diverted. The plan was set in operation, and soon the infamy of Taylor was sounded from Maine to the confines of Texas. They had their agents in almost every city to help on the work. From the first, I had but little hope of success in this manœuvre, but consented reluctantly to the trial. I was confident he had many enemies, and not without cause. Having been foiled in all my former plans, I now experienced the deepest anxiety. I was especially solicitous that as long a time should elapse as possible before he was arrested. Some time after the report of his guilt he was arrested, and my brother promised to secure evidence to prove him guilty, and likewise to establish my innocence. It was also agreed by the committee of arrangements at that time, that I should take medicine upon a feigned sickness, in order to secure a change in my situation. In this way I could be removed to the Marine Hospital, when reported by the committee of health as being in danger. I was to appear ignorant of my brother's design, of which in truth I was. I took medicine, which had the desired effect. It made me desperately sick, producing excessive prostration. Application was made for my removal to the place where you now see me. Being conveyed hither, arrangements were made for my bail by my supposed friends. I was persuaded that I should continue in this state of unnatural disease from that time till the present. My brother carried on his treacherous part, and it required no little effort to convince the community that Taylor wasreally guilty of what was charged upon himself. Although he was known to be a desperate man, yet the charges were of such a nature, it was most difficult to sustain them. My brother's main dependence was in the fraternity. He founded his hope of success upon a concert of action among so many, apparently reputable witnesses. Some of them would be used in behalf of the state, and consequently receive regular pay for time and services, and at the same time could employ a false testimony against Taylor. Two objects could be thus secured; first, they would be detained as witnesses and used as necessity required; and, secondly, be ready to make up my bail. My brother further gave community to understand, that he would be able, by the production of certain papers, to convince them of all that had been rumored against Taylor. For this end, a quantity of papers were forwarded to this city, among which were some bearing my name, that were mere business letters. The ordering these letters was not approved by me. It was a plan of my brother. When it was discovered by several of my most intimate friends, they became alarmed, thinking I was concerned in the affair. As the fraternity required, by their constitution, that all letters should be returned at the request of the author, permitting the holder to take a copy, it became my duty to comply with this requisition whenever made. There was a great alarm. Many visited the city with whom I had held correspondence, whose letters had never been returned. They learned as to the disposition that was to be made of the papers, and report said we were about to give each individual's name concerned, as we were intending to turn state's evidence. This accounts for the many different visiters you have seen. You also saw several from Lawrenceburgh, and the very man you said spoke so disrespectfully of me, and gave you the long moral lecture, is here on the same purpose—the same individual you met two days since, whom you designated as having light hair."
I here found his strength would not permit him to pursue the narrative further, and upon his promising to resume and finish the subject the next day, I left the hospital.
FOOTNOTES:[1]When he spoke of this fraternity, I then supposed he referred to some of the benevolent societies of the day.
[1]When he spoke of this fraternity, I then supposed he referred to some of the benevolent societies of the day.
[1]When he spoke of this fraternity, I then supposed he referred to some of the benevolent societies of the day.
In returning to my boarding-house I was met by the blackleg pettifogger, who treated me with great coldness. I met him again the next morning at the prison, and he treated me in like manner. But I was especially anxious to hear what more the colonel had to say, and hastened to his room. He began his account where he had left off.
"This man, who was dressed in disguise, was greatly alarmed, lest certain of his letters in the package should come to light, which had not been retained. He started for home, as stated by his son, but returned to secure his letters. You have witnessed the tremendous excitement which exists, the running to and fro, and the many strange visitors that frequent my room. There is a cause for all this which I will now relate.
"My brother sent for those papers, which, upon arrival, were submitted to his wife that she might select the most important to be produced as testimony in court against Taylor. In accordance with directions, she examined them all and laid aside all the business letters, (meaning the package lost,) which in some way have been mislaid or stolen. These, you are accused of having taken, and also of having taken a note that was reached through the grate by my brother, as he supposed to his wife, but it proved to be some other person, and they suspected you as that one. They also charge you with giving information as to the man who gave you five hundred dollars,and also that he used my name, saying at the same time, 'If you will swear that money on Taylor I will make you a rich man,' and that you concerted in this thing to act a deceitful part."
I replied: "I promised to take the money and swear according to directions, but it was not for any respect I had for the man who offered me a bribe, or the pecuniary compensation, but for you and your brother."
"Green," said he, "have no respect for my brother. He has not an honest heart. He would betray his own father, and be sure that you refuse to do what the pettifogger has advised." (See a full account in Gambling Unmasked.) "Green, take care, or you will lose your life. You have enemies that watch you closely. They also watch me, but I cannot help myself. I wish you well and believe you innocent."
This last was uttered in a suppressed and pathetic tone, and I perceived his eye was intently fixed upon mine as if he would read in its expression the secret workings of my heart. I was determined he should not effect his purpose, and managed to evade his glances.
"I am aware of their foul intentions," continued he, "but know not how to evade it. Green, I have all confidence in you as an honest boy, and do not think you would do any thing to injure me, but have thought you might have had a curiosity to know the contents of some of those letters, and have mislaid them with the intention of giving them back when you had read them."
I again protested my innocence, and solemnly declared I had no knowledge of the package.
"Then," exclaimed he, "I am a doomed man. There is no hope, and I will tell you the reason why.
"You know I have had many friends calling upon me, day by day, from all parts of the country. You have seen among them some of the most wealthy in the town of Lawrenceburgh. They are my sworn friends and all members of a Secret Society, which obligates each one, under a most solemn oath, to assist a brother member out of any difficulty, provided he has not violated his obligations. Now my brother has acted most imprudently in pledging himself to produce certain papers, and to bring other witnesses besides himself against Taylor. These men were apprehensive that we had mutually laid a trap to expose the whole band. This has involved me in the most unjust crimination. I am subjected to the charge of conspiracy, and hence you see how difficult it is to procure bail. It is true I have had promises from all parts of the Union, but my brother concerted, without reflecting upon the consequences of his conduct, to bring one thousand men, if necessary, to this city, who would be ready to do any thing he might direct. These men were brethren of the same band, but of a lower order, none of whom were possessed of wealth or extended influence. The others, who possessed both, were kept in silence, for fear of being betrayed or proving false to the fraternity of which they were members. That we are circumstanced as you see us at present, is not for the want of friends. They are abundant and powerful; we have them on sea and on land, and they are ready to assist us out of any difficulty, and would do it in a moment if assured that all was right on our part. You see the city is full of them—many have come to secure their letters, which they knew were in my possession, and if exposed, would bring upon them certain ruin,—but alas! theyhave come too late. You will notice I have had no visitors while I have been giving you this history. I told the steward to admit none but yourself. Be assured, Green, I have many friends, but they dare not act—they dare not help me and they dare not convict me. You may live to know the truth of what I am stating."
I inferred, from the last remark, that he had reference to the judiciary. I had noticed that during his two days' conversation, no person had visited the room but the physician and a certain judge who lived near Florence, Alabama, and the latter remained only a few minutes. I found out his name by seeing it written upon his hat lining, which had been placed upon the window opening on the piazza. After the judge had retired, the colonel resumed the conversation.
"I am accused by my friends with treachery to the brotherhood. They think that I, in concert with my brother, have laid a plan to clear ourselves by their downfall. When the news was out that the papers were lost, I saw the most marked indications of hostility. They came forward and pledged to bail me in any amount, provided I would return their letters, but swore that I should never go from this room alive, if I did not produce them. I am certain to suffer death. My sentence is fixed, and I have no hope. My brother and his advisers have ruined me. They have had me borne hither that I might not understand their plans. I am satisfied the papers are in the hands of the intimate friends of my brother and those who had manifested such an interest in my removal to this place. I have been reduced by medicine, and my inability to exercise—so contrary to my general habits—has seated a fatal disease upon my lungs."
His disease had been occasioned by the constant use of medicine, which exposed his system to cold, and this, by constant repetition, had entirely destroyed his constitution. I have no doubt that a slow poison was mingled in his medicine. When he had finished this tale of sorrow, he gave me some affectionate advice in something like the following words:
"Green, I advise you to leave the city as soon as possible. There are two parties of the 'secret band' that seek your life; those who are so much enraged at the loss of the papers, because their reputation, fortunes, and lives, are thereby in jeopardy, and those who are the personal friends of my brother, and who support him, do or say what he may. They take his word with the infallibility of law and gospel, and are by profession great friends of mine, as well as of the other party, who swear they will have those papers at all hazards, right or wrong; meaning if you have them, they will obtain them in some way; that if I have them they shall be returned. I therefore advise you to leave the city immediately."
I told him I had no funds.
"I have not one dollar," said he, "to help you off, or I would give it to you."
I told him I was under great obligations for his kindness. He further remarked:
"Now pledge me secrecy to what I have related, for it can have no effect in assisting you, and will ruin me."
I did so, and bade him farewell. I hastened to see Mr. Munger, and told him what the colonel had said about the counterfeit money and the money I had found by Sandford's note, but not a word as to the mysterious package.
Shortly after the events detailed in the foregoing chapter, I had a conversation with Mr. Munger, who told me, he was satisfied that my life was in danger, and advised me to leave the city for a few weeks, or, at least, to change my boarding-place, and keep myself in seclusion. Accordingly, I changed my quarters as soon as possible. I could not well leave the city, as Mr. Munger informed me I must be present to appear in court when Taylor was tried, in case the younger brother acted the part he had promised; and if not, it would be equally important for me to be on hand, as they intended to indict him and his pettifogger, for their wicked designs upon the man they were endeavouring to ruin. As I could not go far out of the city, under these circumstances, I considered it more safe to remain concealed: I waited, therefore, several days, until the colonel's death, which occurred not long after I bade him farewell.
I had met Cunningham—the old man at first charged with having the package by Mrs. Brown—several times after the colonel had advised me to leave the city, and in our last interview, he gave me to understand that the colonel would never get out of his bed alive, or leave the hospital, except when carried to his burial. I asked him, why.
"There are many reasons. His health will never be any better; he cannot recover from his present illness.I know it is hard, but there are many who think it is preferable that one should suffer than thousands, who consider themselves better men. He has brought this trouble upon himself, by not living up to his oath. He and his brother are both traitors, and have placed the fraternity, of which they are members, entirely in the power of their enemies, but it will all come out right; there is no mistake. You heard that Madam Brown had lost a certain package of papers, letters, or the like, did you not?"
I replied in the affirmative.
"Well, they believed for a time that I had them, or would have made others think so; but that kind of accusation would not take with men who knew me. They next laid the charge against you: I have satisfied the interested party, that they are not in the possession of either of us, but that the colonel and his brother have them, and intend thereby to slip more necks into the halter than poor Taylor's. I am of the opinion, their own necks will pay the price of their treachery."
I then replied, that I knew Mrs. Brown had said she had lost a package of papers, but what they contained, I knew not.
"Nor ever will know," said he.
"I have no curiosity about the matter," I replied.
"And you might as wellneverhave, for curious people will pay dearly for reading them, especially if they undertake it in court, as evidence against the brotherhood."
The reader can hardly imagine the intense desire that was created, by this time, in my heart, to learn all about this "brotherhood," and "fraternity," so often introduced, and yet so obscurely as to give me no certain information.
I took this opportunity to ask Cunningham, what title this society had assumed; whether they were Masons or Odd Fellows? He laughed, and said:
"I thought I had explained some of the particulars to you." He then stopped, as if to consider, when he continued: "Certainly, Masons and Odd Fellows both, and all other good institutions—but, I can tell you, Green, the brother who has turned state's evidence swears terrible vengeance against you. Do you be careful. He has many who are watching you. I belong to the party opposed to him and the colonel, and they throw all the blame upon you. You are the victim of their suspicions and hate, and you will do well to leave this place without delay; but tell no one, by any means, that I have given you this information."
I bade him good day, and we separated.
I now thought I would call once more, and see the colonel. I hastened to the hospital, but as I drew near, I discovered two men riot far from the steps, and the third coming down. I walked by them, without being recognised, and as I passed, the third man had entered into conversation with the other two.
He was asked, "Is it a fact, that he is dead?"
"Yes, certainly. He has been dead about three hours."
"I knew," said one, "that he could not stand it long."
Two of the men, I perceived, were from Lawrenceburgh, the two who stood remotely, one of whom was the identical person who wore the wig, and gave me such good fatherly instruction. I passed to the room, whereI found the steward, with three assistants, laying out the corpse.
"We do not wish any more assistance at present," said the old French steward. I understood his meaning, and left immediately.
The news of the colonel's death soon spread through the city, and many gathered to witness the burial, but owing to the inclemency of the weather, few followed to the grave. When the hearse bore the body away, it rained very hard. I did not make my appearance on the occasion, for I well knew that many would be present to relieve their anxious minds—to rejoice rather than mourn over the dead, and who would sooner see my dead body deposited by that of the colonel's, than any other on earth. I was determined not to be mourned for in that way, by the desperate villains. I therefore kept aloof from their society.
Several days elapsed, during which time I remained in concealment from all the clan, but Cunningham, who expressed a concern for my welfare. I also had frequent conferences with my friend, the deputy-marshal. Three days after the colonel's death, Cunningham informed me, that he was convinced that both of the Browns deserved death.
"But I dare not tell you why," said he, "and if I should, you would not be able to comprehend my reasons. Be assured, if they are guilty, the other brother will never come from that prison alive. He will find out, that the brotherhood are wide awake."
All his insinuations were perfect Greek to me, for some weeks after; but when Taylor had his trial, the whole matter was explained. Their import I will now unfold.
From the time the plan was concocted, for making Taylor suffer the penalty of another's crime, the utmost promptitude was required for its execution—the machinery must be actively employed by the friends of the colonel, and his brother. First, the colonel must be made sick, and a sympathy thereby awakened, and hence the plea for his removal would be the more plausible. His enlargement was important. He was a principal man, with whom it would be necessary to have much consultation—an intercourse more vital to the cause of his pretended than his real friends. Besides, there were many who really desired his escape, but being among the first class of society, as to wealth, respectability, and influence, they were unwilling to frequent the prison to visit the unfortunate colonel. Though interested deeply in his release, they were not willing the public should understand that they were sworn friends. The part the younger brother was to sustain, has already been detailed in a former chapter. The medicine was administered with the desired effect, and the colonel was removed to the hospital. He was now in a situation to be consulted. Many would now visit him, who never would have gone to the prison. If a reason was required for their familiarity with so base a man, it could be found in the dictates of kindness, called forth by suffering humanity. After his removal, his brother was under obligation to doas he had promised, to produce the spurious plates, the counterfeit money, and the correspondence, and swear them upon Taylor, as the real agent and proprietor. As the signatures of the letters were anonymous, other testimony was required to establish the real author.
It will be remembered that the plates and letters were in Canada for safe keeping, and must be sent for, and conveyed to the city before the trial of Taylor could proceed. In the mean time, jealousy and consequent dread on the part of the colonel's confederates were daily receiving new strength. Conscious were they of having acted a most dishonorable and deceitful part with one of whom, under ordinary circumstances, they were accustomed to stand in awe; but now they were more especially apprehensive of danger, because there was a provocation for seeking vengeance. They knew he had every means to involve them in a more signal overthrow than that which awaited himself. The only alternatives were, either to wrest the weapons of destruction from his hands, or render the possessor incapable of wielding them. They were driven almost to desperation, when they reflected on their deeds of wickedness reaching through many years, the record of which was in the hands of a powerful and justly provoked enemy, who in a day might spread out for the gaze of the world the portraiture of their former characters, in which were mingled the features of darkest villany and the more glaring expressions of open violence and crime. Goaded on by an awful apprehension, they were prepared for any thing that might save themselves and families from exposure and disgrace.
Colonel Brown was a Grand Master of the band of Secret Brothers. The members of the fraternity whosought his ruin were of the same degree, together with those holding the relation of Vice-grand Master. He had nothing to fear from the common brotherhood, who were kept in perfect ignorance of the transactions of those more advanced. Indeed, they were his warmest friends, and regarded him with especial reverence, because he commended himself to their confidence and esteem by his naturally good disposition, and, most of all, by his relation of Grand Master, which is always accompanied either with dread or marked respect. The inferior order was very numerous, but seldom wealthy, generally of a suspicious character, who had no fixed residence, but wandered from place to place, preying upon the community in the character of bar-keepers, pickpockets, thieves, gamblers, horse-racers, and sometimes murderers. They may be found in all parts of the United States and Canada. These were controlled by some two hundred Grand Masters, conveniently located, who were generally men of wealth and respectability, and often connected with some learned profession, yet but seldom applying themselves to their profession sufficient to gain a livelihood. These men, of both orders, would often confer together, especially when one had been detected in any crime—or some dirty job was to be done, which was likely to bring into the hands of the superior order any considerable wealth. In fact, these so-called respectable men would lay plans which they dared not execute for fear of detection, but having any number of agents in readiness among the common brotherhood who had nothing to lose in point of character, they would employ them, and if successful, be sure to pocket all the spoils—except enough to satisfy the immediate wants of their jackals. If they were notsuccessful, but detected in their villany, these unfortunate agents could lay claim to their aid, and were permitted to make drafts of money to procure bail in case of indictment or to defray the expenses of a trial. We have sometimes wondered that certain felons should get clear, when their guilt has been established beyond a doubt. We will not wonder when we learn that there are men of wealth and influence in almost every town, who are sworn to aid and befriend these villains. They are sometimes lawyers, and jurors, and even judges. But their conduct and relations will be more clearly seen, when I publish their letters and constitution. It is only necessary to remark in this connection, that the only persons really benefited in this organized system of land piracy, are their Grand Masters. They lay most of the plans, and receive and control the money,—confer among themselves, but never with a common brother, only using him as a tool for the accomplishment of some foul purpose. Here is policy. It would not be safe to commit their secrets to the many hundreds under them, but only to such as are judged suitable after years of trial, and those beneath are often looking forward for promotion, which is a pledge of their fidelity. The reader will perceive that if this higher order was ever to be fully exposed, it must be by some one of their own number, for one of an inferior degree knows no more of their proceedings than the uninitiated.
The danger of a full exposure now threatened them in connection with Colonel Brown; at least they apprehended it. They knew they deserved it, and the circumstances of their accomplice pointed in that direction. He had the means—their own letters, and a knowledgeof their deeds. It was only necessary to give information to a third person, and the work would be done. Besides, he was a man of extensive acquaintance and influence—a ruling spirit among his fellows. A revelation from him would have been direful in the extreme, as, in addition, he had in his possession the constitution and by-laws of the fraternity, which were always lodged with the ruling Grand Master. Under these circumstances we need not wonder that there was excitement, that every expedient was employed to rescue the documents or make away with their possessor. He was now in confinement. It was vital to their designs to keep him there till they could secure the letters and constitution above referred to, or, in case of failure, make his life pay the forfeit. They cared but little for his brother, as he was of an inferior grade. The Grand Masters, then in office, had but one object in view, and that they were intent upon accomplishing. The acquittal or conviction of the two brothers was a matter of no consequence compared with their own personal safety. To secure this they would not scruple even to commit murder. That this is the case, will be seen by an article in their constitution. I may further remark in this connection, that their laws required, that the Grand Master shall be assisted by six Vice-grand Masters, but these latter cannot be admitted into the secrets of the former till they are promoted, although they are obligated to do his bidding. The members who had been advanced to the highest degree, and hold the principal secrets of the order in connection with the colonel their leader, were about two hundred. These were the individuals conspiring against his life, in case they could not procure their letters and other documents. Their main and first object was, therefore, to bring those papers to the city.
The papers were sent for, as before stated, and all their designs, of a public and private nature, set in active operation. Of this the colonel had no knowledge at the time. Mrs. B. was to give them up to the committee appointed for the purpose of inspecting them. All that would have any tendency to injure or expose the fraternity, if brought to light, were to be selected, and the rest brought forward for the purpose of convicting Taylor. The intention of bringing these papers to the city being, in the mean time, made known to the colonel, he gave directions to his sister-in-law to reserve such papers as he specified, and hand the balance over to the committee. The trunk in which they were deposited having arrived, Mrs. B. acted according to directions, reserving the notable package which she concealed between her beds, while she conveyed the residue to the prison office for legal purposes—to be used by the committee, who met there by consent of one of the prison keepers—he being a Grand Master of the secret band and one of the principal policemen. After delivering up the papers, she returned and found her valuable deposit had been removed as previously stated.
The fact of their removal being made known to the brotherhood, they thought some base person had robbed the lady of her important charge. This opinion prevailed with the fraternity generally. Not so with the two hundred grandees. Their opinion assumed the character of their former suspicions, while their suspicions were converted into fact. They were now fully convinced that the colonel contemplated the destruction oftheir order, and was intent upon keeping the papers in his own power: that he had even entered upon the act of defeating the very purpose they had in view, in bringing those papers to the city. At this time the city was crowded with the members of this secret society, and private rewards were offered by the two hundred or that portion of this band then in the city, for the recovery of the papers. These rewards made a great stir, especially with the officers of all parties, both those for and against the colonel. Taylor was a mark to be shot at by about seven-eighths of the band, and the remaining one-eighth was ready to go to the highest bidder, to do service for him who would give the highest wages. He found means to secure the friendship of the latter, many of whom were considered quite respectable men, and were never suspected by the brotherhood of any thing dishonourable. The head men constituted still another party. Thus these villains were divided into three factions. These were the friends of Taylor, known as Taylorites, and the supporters of Brown, called Brownites. These only were publicly known; while the third party, embracing the royal grandees, were actively engaged in disengaging themselves from the coils which they supposed had been deliberately laid for their destruction. They showed, by their efforts, they had more at stake than all the rest. Though their movements were not publicly recognised, yet they had every influence that would favour their cause in operation, to consummate their hellish purposes.
The constitution, by-laws, and about one thousand and three hundred letters, including copies and original, were missing; and the destiny of the whole band of GrandMasters depended upon their recovery, before ever they fell into the hands of one who could explain them to the brotherhood; and still more calamitous would be the condition of the entire fraternity, if they were ever revealed to the public. Those more immediately concerned were confirmed in the opinion that the colonel had secreted them for future use. Finding they had not accomplished what they intended, in bringing the papers to the city, they had recourse to a certain clause in the constitution, to compel the colonel to produce some of them, if in his possession. That clause required the holder of an original letter to return the same, when requested by the writer, after copying, if desirable. This law applied, however, only to letters having the secret "qualities," or, in other words, the private description of the bearer in full, which was written in acid, and could be read only after subjection to chemical action. Three hundred and seventy-nine of the letters in the package were of this kind; one thousand were copies, whose original had been returned. The former had been written to the colonel, and one bore date as far back as July 9th, 1819; the latter had been addressed to various individuals, and some bore date as far back as 1798.
To secure these letters was a work of great delicacy. Though the constitution granted the right of asking the unreturned letters, yet the writers feared to make the requisition of the colonel, lest he might suspect them of a conspiracy, and being thus exasperated, let loose his engines of destruction. They finally fixed upon the following plan. They were to hold out the idea that they were ready to bail him, provided he would leave the country. In case he consented, they were to request theretention of the letters, feeling confident he had not destroyed them. The plan was laid open to the colonel by the man from Dearborn county, Indiana, the same who was dressed in disguise. He was told by the colonel that the papers (meaning the package) had been taken, and he could not furnish them, as he had no possible knowledge who had done the deed. This reply, to the council of Grand Masters, was like "a clap of thunder in a cloudless sky," so confident were they that he had them and would produce them when thus requested. There was now only one alternative, the life of the colonel must be taken, which they could and did accomplish, as the sequel will show.
From the time of the visit by the Dearborn county man till the death of Colonel Brown, embracing about six weeks, there were constant and fierce wranglings among the fraternity. A considerable change had been made in the feelings of some of the colonel's former sworn friends, which of course made those who knew him innocent more bitter against any one they might suspect guilty of bringing such a calamity upon him. His friends and foes were equally interested in finding the retainer of the lost package, but all to no purpose. There was, however, but one sentiment in the Grand Council; they still believed that the colonel had them, and designed, as soon as he was liberated, to make a general exposure of the whole organization to the world. But their own consciousness of personal injury—of having acted a treacherous part against this man—was, in reality, the ground of their conviction as to his guilt; for it was not in the nature of the man to be false to his pledged honour. It only remained that they should prevent his liberation; and the most effectual way was to act in accordance with the assassin's maxim, "Dead men tell no tales." Their hatred rose to such a pitch that they began to exhibit their enmity toward any one that either sympathized, befriended, or was even familiar with the colonel. Here was the ground of their deadly animosity toward me.They supposed I was his confidant, and might be an agent for the execution of his designs.
These murderers,—(I ask no pardon for so harsh an epithet, for they were such in thought and deed,)—these Grand Masters, who visited the colonel while I waited upon him, and thus became personally known, have, ever since that event, assumed a hostile attitude toward me. It is true they have never attacked me publicly, yet I am confident they have hired others to do it. From the time I drew the money put in deposit by Sandford, and bore off that object of curiosity, so carefully concealed in the bed, until the day I was chased as a mad dog by an infuriated mob through the streets of New Orleans, and finally made good my escape through a troop of less hostile cotton snakes, as recorded in my Gambling Unmasked, I was singled out as an object of open and private hate by the whole tribe of organized desperadoes. To recover those papers, no steps were too desperate for the Grand Masters—they having any amount of money to accomplish their object; and I am now about to present the reader with another exhibition of their daring and indefatigable perseverance.
They now came to the conclusion that those papers had been given to the officers of the bank, and were deposited in the clerk's office of the United States court, to be used against them at some future day. They offered rewards to several of the inferior grade, for the purpose of getting possession of the box containing the plates, counterfeit money, and, as they supposed, the lost package. Their only hope now lay in getting that box. The time of Taylor's trial had been fixed. Mr. Munger informed me I could leave the city for a few days, and hewould let me know when my services were wanted. I went to Bayou Sara, one hundred and fifty miles above New Orleans. A few days after my arrival, Mr. Munger came after me in great haste, bringing the information that a great and daring burglary had been committed the same night I left the city. The clerk's office had been entered, and the box, containing Taylor's indictments, plates, and spurious money, had been taken. Taylor's jury had not agreed, and he would get clear, in case the box could not be recovered. He informed me that I had been suspected and accused of the deed; but that he knew I was innocent, for he had inquired of the boat, and found I had left on the previous night, some time before the robbery was committed. He did not wish any one to know that he had any knowledge of my location, but told me I had nothing to fear. Indeed, I knew I could prove analibiby more than one person, and I consented to return. While on our way back to the city, I told Mr. Munger I did not wish to go into the prison where the younger Brown was confined; I feared he had some designs upon my life.
"Do not have any apprehensions," said he, "on that account. You will not be hurt, for you will be put into the debtor's apartment, where Brown is not permitted to visit, and of course can have no chance to do you an injury."
I was placed in prison upon my return—a position of greater safety to me than any other. Being assured by Mr. Munger of protection, I went without hesitation—expecting to be released the next day. The next morning I was brought out and informed, to my great surprise,that if discharged I must furnish a very heavy bail. This was a source of alarm; but my friend calmed my fears, by saying that all would be right when I was examined; that the excitement was great, and it was only necessary to wait for the return of the Lady of the Lake—which was on a trip to Natchez, and would be back in a few days—when abundant evidence in my favour would be secured, and I would be acquitted.
In a few days, I was accordingly set at liberty. The plates and papers had been found in Natchez, and a man by the name of King had been arrested—who confessed the crime, but alleged that he had been hired by a certain party to do the deed. This King was one of the brotherhood, and had been employed by the committee of Grand Masters to enter the office and secure for them the box, by which they expected to obtain the package. In this they were mistaken, and placed in a worse dilemma than before.
On the day of my discharge I was visited by a man, to me unknown. He informed me that he had procured my acquittal, and was my sincere friend and well-wisher; that he desired always to remain the same—and would, during life, on condition that I acted in accordance with his wishes.
I considered him a strange person, to introduce himself in so singular a manner. He advised me to leave the city as soon as possible. I told him that was my intention. I likewise informed Mr. Munger of the same, and he readily consented, as Taylor's trial had been put off. Arrangements being made with him, I expected to leave the next day. In the mean time, I had an interview withCunningham, who told me I must look out, for the brotherhood in general suspected me of foul play as to the papers. I denied all knowledge of them—for I found it my only safety to pursue one uniform course.
He continued: "The party are determined to have them at all hazards, and are now more convinced than ever that you are in the secret. All the circumstances are against you—more especially since the custom-house was broken open, which robbery was perpetrated for the express purpose of finding the papers. It was thought if the colonel had disposed of them, they would be found there; but now they will hold you responsible. I bid you farewell."
On the same evening I had this conversation with Cunningham, I went with Smith to the gambling-house: the same day, too, on which I won seventy dollars in the flat boat—the first and dearest money I ever won at gaming, as it nearly cost me my life—the full account of which is given in the work previously mentioned.
On the second day after this, as I was about leaving for Mobile, I met the gentleman who had procured my release. He advised me to depart forthwith, promising to meet me at another time. As we were separating he placed in my hands a box.
"Here," said he, "is a box, containing something I wish you to keep with great care. You must not open it till I give you permission."
I took the same. It was a small box, made of oak, three inches high, eight long, and five wide. Its possession gave me much uneasiness for twelve years—during which time I remained faithful to my instructions. Ifrequently met with my benefactor. The last time I saw him was in Philadelphia, in 1841. I have received from him nine letters, in all, of a good moral character, and always referring to the box. This individual's name I have never been able to learn. No two letters ever bore the same signature, but the identity of their contents convinced me they were all from the same person. That mysterious box I have preserved to the present day.
It will be remembered by the reader that I confided the papers, taken from Mrs. B., with a man by the name of Watkins. This individual died with the cholera, in 1832. I called upon his wife for the package, who returned the same to me at Cincinnati, in 1833. I found every thing as I had left it, excepting the blank parchments. They were gone. Here was a mystery I could not solve. How should a part be missing and not the whole? I never gained any satisfactory information until last summer. While travelling through the state of New York, I had occasion to visit the state's prison, where I met with a certain convict who passed by the name of Wyatt, but whose real name was Robert H. North. He gave me information about a certain "flash," or comprehensive language used among professional gamblers and blacklegs. Many of the phrases were familiar, but I never could ascertain their origin. He was soon convinced of my ignorance, and then informed me of the society whence they originated. He likewise explained the reason why I was so persecuted by the notorious Goodrich. "It is known," said he, "wherever the fraternity exist, that you obtained the package; but they are satisfied you destroyed the same, and it is well youdid, or else you would have been put out of the way long before this."
I told him I had taken the package, but there was nothing in it save letters and a few blank parchments.
He laughed and said:
"If you hadwarmedthose parchments, they would have presented an exhibition worthy of your attention."
This information made me restless with excitement and anxiety to peruse those letters and notes which I still had in my possession. I may here remark, the letters were, for the most part, unintelligible to a common reader, because of the secret language in which they were written. I had examined them again and again, without much satisfaction. I knew they were penned for the purpose of clandestinely carrying on a wholesale plunder—a deliberate imposition upon public and private rights. By frequent perusal I had become familiar with many of the terms which were often explained to me by those who were acquainted with their use, though they are used by thousands, without any knowledge of their origin.
After I commenced an exposure of the vice of gambling, I was often attacked by certain low, vulgar editors in a manner that indicated deep-seated malice. I could not account for their abuse. They would admit that society should be rid of the evil in question, but at the same time exhibited the most bitter hostility to me as one who had dared to expose the abominations of gaming. I was conscious there was something that moved them in their work of calumny not yet developed. The mystery rendered me unhappy. I was anxious to know the cause of this public opposition, and the more so, that I mightsatisfy the people that the whole arose from influences akin to the vice I was labouring to destroy. The secret was soon discovered, and I am now prepared to satisfy the public mind that the attacks upon my present relation to society have arisen from something more than an ignorant prejudice. These hireling editors knew I had the materials to draw their portraits at full length in all their moral hideousness; and they feared society would be thrown into spasms at the sight, and they would be hurled from their stations of trust by an enraged and insulted people. It has only been necessary in one or two instances to give them a few hints of the information I possessed, and they were hushed upinstanter.
A long time had elapsed since I heard from the mysterious stranger who gave me the box,—long enough, I had supposed, to free me from obligation of further restraint upon my curiosity. It had now been in my possession several years, and I felt myself at liberty to examine its contents. Having consulted with a few friends previously, I then made known, in the fall of 1842, to Rev. John F. Wright—formerly of the Methodist Book Concern, Cincinnati—that I had such a box, and my intentions. I likewise gave the same information to Arthur Vance—formerly of Lawrenceburgh, Indiana—Mr. John Norton, of Lexington, Kentucky—Thomas M. Gallay, of Wheeling, Virginia. I informed each of them how I came by the box, and the unaccountable conduct of the man who placed it in my hands. Having opened it, I found the same number of parchments I had missed from the package, all blank in appearance. In these was a note, which read as follows:
"The parchments, now in the hands of the possessor, contain much sad intelligence, and can be read, provided they are heated. They are exposed by a brother of the band, a doomed man, one the world has known to its sorrow for forty years. May the owner and holder consider the doomed one a most kind friend for ever!
"New Orleans, May 3d, 1832."
I soon hastened to ascertain the contents of the parchments, and found the statement made correct.