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Thirty Years' View (Vol. II of 2)
Thirty Years' View (Vol. II of 2)полная версия

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Thirty Years' View (Vol. II of 2)

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2017
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This paragraph shows that the arming of the petty officers for the crisis of the hangings had been meditated for a day or two – that it had been the subject of consultation with the lieutenant, and also of him with some of the petty officers; and it was doubtless on this occasion that he took the opinions of the officers (as proved on the court-martial trial) on the subject of hanging the three prisoners immediately if any more arrests were made. The commander and his lieutenant differed on the question of arming these petty officers – the only instance of a difference of opinion between them: but the commander's calculation of probabilities led him to overrule the lieutenant – to make up his own mind in favor of arming: and to have it done. The command at the conclusion is eminently concise, and precise, and entirely military; and the ending words remind us of the French infantry charging command: "En avant, mes enfans!" in English – "Forward, my children."

The reception of the council recommendation, and the order for carrying it into effect, were simultaneous: and carried into effect it was with horrible rapidity, and to the utmost letter – all except in one particular – which forms a dreadful exception. The council had given the recommendation with the Christian reservation of allowing the doomed and helpless victims "sufficient time to prepare" – meaning, of course, preparation for appearance at the throne of God. That reservation was disregarded. Immediate execution was the word! and the annunciation of the death decree, and the order for putting it in force, were both made known to the prisoners in the same moment, and in the midst of the awful preparations for death.

"I gave orders to make immediate preparation for hanging the three principal criminals at the mainyard arms. All hands were now called to witness the punishment. The afterguard and idlers of both watches were mustered on the quarterdeck at the whip (the halter) intended for Mr. Spencer: forecastle-men and foretop-men at that of Cromwell, to whose corruption they had been chiefly exposed. The maintop of both watches, at that intended for Small who, for a month, had filled the situation of captain of the maintop. The officers were stationed about the decks, according to the watch bill I had made out the night before, and the petty officers were similarly distributed, with orders to cut down whoever should let go the whip (the rope) with even one hand; or fail to haul on (pull at the rope) when ordered."

Here it is unwittingly told that the guard stations at the hangings were all made out the night before.

For the information of the unlearned in nautical language, it may be told that what is called the whip at sea, is not an instrument of flagellation, but of elevation – a small tackle with a single rope, used to hoist light bodies; and so called from one of the meanings of the word whip, used as a verb, then signifying to snatch up suddenly. It is to be hoped that the sailors appointed to haul on this tackle had been made acquainted (though the commander's report does not say so) with the penalty which awaited them if they failed to pull at the word, or let go, even with one hand. The considerate arrangement for hanging each one at the spot of his imputed worst conduct, and under an appropriate watch, shows there had been deliberation on that part of the subject – deliberation which requires time – and for which there was no time after the reception of the council's answer; and which the report itself, so far as the watch is concerned, shows was made out the night before. The report continues:

"The ensign and pennant being bent on, and ready for hoisting, I now put on my full uniform, and proceeded to execute the most painful duty that has ever devolved on an American commander – that of announcing to the criminals their fate."

It has been before seen that these victims had no knowledge of the proceedings against them, while the seven officers were examining, in a room below, the thirteen seamen whose answers to questions (or rather, whose thoughts) were to justify the fate which was now to be announced to them. They had no knowledge of it at the time, nor afterwards, until standing in the midst of the completed arrangements for their immediate death. They were brought into the presence of death before they knew that any proceedings had been had against them, and while under the belief, authorized by the commander himself, that they were to be brought home for trial. Their fate was staring them in the face before they knew it had been doomed. The full uniform of a commander in the American navy had been put on for the occasion, with what view is not expressed; and, in this imposing costume, – feathers and chapeau, gold lace and embroidery, sword and epaulettes – the commander proceeded to announce their fate to men in irons – double irons on the legs, and iron cuffs on the hands – and surrounded by guards to cut them down on the least attempt to avoid the gallows which stood before them. In what terms this annunciation, or rather, these annunciations (for there was a separate address to each victim, and each address adapted to its subject) were made, the captain himself will tell.

"I informed Mr. Spencer that when he had been about to take my life, and to dishonor me as an officer when in the execution of my rightful duty, without cause of offence to him, on speculation, it had been his intention to remove me suddenly from the world, in the darkness of the night, without a moment to utter one murmur of affection to my wife and children – one prayer for their welfare. His life was now forfeited to his country; and the necessities of the case growing out of his corruption of the crew, compelled me to take it. I would not, however, imitate his intended example. If there yet remained one feeling true to nature, it should be gratified. If he had any word to send to his parents, it should be recorded, and faithfully delivered. Ten minutes should be granted him for this purpose; and Midshipman Egbert Thompson was called to note the time, and inform me when the ten minutes had elapsed."

Subsequent events require this appeal to Spencer, and promise to him, to be noted. He is invoked, in the name of Nature, to speak to his parents, and his words promised delivery. History will have to deal with that invocation, and promise.

This is the autographic account of the annunciation to Spencer; and if there is a parallel to it in Christendom, this writer has yet to learn the instance. The vilest malefactors, convicts of the greatest crimes, are allowed an interval for themselves when standing between time and eternity; and during that time they are left, undisturbed, to their own thoughts. Even pirates allow that much to vanquished and subdued men. The ship had religious exercises upon it, and had multiplied their performance since the mutiny had been discovered. The commander was a devout attendant at these exercises, and harangued the crew morally and piously daily, and in this crisis twice or thrice a day. He might have been of some consolation to the desolate youth in this supreme moment. He might have spoken to him some words of pity and of hope: he might at least have refrained from reproaches: he might have omitted the comparison in which he assumed to himself such a superiority over Spencer in the manner of taking life. It was the Pharisee that thanked God he was not like other men, nor like that Publican. But the Pharisee did not take the Publican's life, nor charge him with crimes. Besides, the comparison was not true, admitting that Spencer intended to kill him in his sleep. There is no difference of time between one minute and ten minutes in the business of killing; and the most sudden death – a bullet through the heart in sleep – would be mercy compared to the ten minutes' reprieve allowed Spencer: and that time taken up (as the event proved) in harassing the mind, enraging the feelings, and in destroying the character of the young man before he destroyed his body. It is to be hoped that the greater part of what the commander says he said to Spencer, was not said: it would be less discreditable to make a false report in such cases than to have said what was alleged; and there were so many errors in the commander's report that disbelief of it becomes easy, and even obligatory. It is often variant or improbable in itself, and sometimes impossible; and almost entirely contradicted by the testimony. In the vital – really vital – case of holding the watch, he is contradicted. He says Midshipman Thompson was called to note the time, and to report its expiration. Mr. O. H. Perry swore in the court that the order was given to him – that he reported it – and that the commander said, "very well." This was clear and positive: but Mr. Thompson was examined to the same point, and testified thus: That he heard him (the commander) say something about ten minutes – that he told Mr. Perry, he thinks, to note the time – that Perry and himself both noted it – thinks he reported it – don't recollect what the commander said – is under an impression he said "very good." So that Mr. Perry was called to note the time, and did it, and reported it, and did not know that Thompson had done it. To the question, "What did Mr. Thompson say when he came back from reporting the time?" the answer is: "I did not know that he reported it." At best, Mr. Thompson was a volunteer in the business, and too indifferent to it to know what he did. Mr. O. H. Perry is the one that had the order, and did the duty. Now it is quite immaterial which had the order: but it is very material that the commander should remember the true man. – The manner in which the young man received this dreadful intelligence, is thus reported:

"This intimation quite overpowered him. He fell upon his knees, and said he was not fit to die."

"Was not fit to die!" that is to say, was not in a condition to appear before his God. The quick perishing of the body was not the thought that came to his mind, but the perishing of his soul, and his sudden appearance before his Maker, unpurged of the sins of this life. Virtue was not dead in the heart which could forget itself and the world in that dread moment, and only think of his fitness to appear at the throne of Heaven. Deeply affecting as this expression was – am not fit to die – it was still more so as actually spoken, and truly stated by competent witnesses before the court. "When he told him he was to die in ten minutes, Spencer told him he was not fit to die – that he wished to live longer to get ready. The commander said, I know you are not, but I cannot help it." – A remark which was wicked in telling him he knew he was not fit to die, and false, in saying he could not help it. So far from not being able to help it, he was the only man that could prevent the preparation for fitness. The answer then was, an exclamation of unfitness to die, and a wish to live longer to get ready. But what can be thought of the heart which was dead to such an appeal? and which, in return, could occupy itself with reproaches to the desolate sinner; and could deliver exhortations to the trembling fleeting shadow that was before him, to study looks and attitudes, and set an example of decorous dying to his two companions in death? for that was the conduct of Mackenzie: and here is his account of it:

"I repeated to him his own catechism, and begged him at least to let the officer set to the men he had corrupted and seduced, the example of dying with decorum."

"The men whom he had corrupted and seduced," – outrageous words, and which the commander says, "immediately restored him to entire self-possession." But they did not turn away his heart from the only thing that occupied his mind – that of fitting himself, as well as he could, to appear before his God. He commenced praying with great fervor, and begging from Heaven that mercy for his soul which was denied on earth to his body.

The commander then went off to make the same annunciation to the other two victims, and returning when the ten minutes was about half out – when the boy had but five minutes to live, as he was made to believe – he soon made apparent the true reason which all this sudden announcement of death in ten minutes was in reality intended for. It was to get confessions! it was to make up a record against him! to excite him against Small and Cromwell! to take advantage of terror and resentment to get something from him for justification in taking his life! and in that work he spent near two hours, making up a record against himself of revolting atrocity, aggravated and made still worse by the evidence before the court. The first movement was to make him believe that Cromwell and Small had informed upon him, and thus induce him to break out upon them, or to confess, or to throw the blame upon the others. He says:

"I returned to Mr. Spencer. I explained to him how Cromwell had made use of him. I told him that remarks had been made about the two, and not very flattering to him, and which he might not care to hear; and which showed the relative share ascribed to each of them in the contemplated transaction. He expressed great anxiety to hear what was said."

It is to be borne in mind that Spencer was in prayer, with but five minutes to go upon, when Mackenzie interrupts him with an intimation of what Small and Cromwell had said of him, and piques his curiosity to learn it by adding, "which he might not care to hear" – artfully exciting his curiosity to know what it was. The desire thus excited, he goes on to tell him that one had called him a damn fool, and the other had considered him Cromwell's tool: thus:

"One had told the first lieutenant: 'In my opinion, sir, you have the damned fool on the larboard arm-chest, and the damned villain on the starboard.' And another had remarked, that after the vessel should have been captured by Spencer, Cromwell might allow him to live, provided he made himself useful; he would probably make him his secretary."

Spencer was on the larboard arm-chest; Cromwell on the starboard: so that Small was the speaker, and the damned fool applied to Spencer, and the damned villain to Cromwell: and Spencer, who had all along been the chief, was now to be treated as an instrument, only escaping with his life if successful in taking the vessel, and, that upon condition of making himself useful; and then to have no higher post on the pirate than that of Cromwell's secretary. This was a hint to Spencer to turn States' evidence against Cromwell, and throw the whole blame on him. The commander continues, still addressing himself to Spencer —

"I think this would not have suited your temper."

This remark, inquisitively made, and evidently to draw out something against Cromwell, failed of its object. It drew no remark from Spencer; it merely acted upon his looks and spirit, according to the commander – who proceeds in this strain:

"This effectually aroused him, and his countenance assumed a demoniacal expression. He said no more of the innocence of Cromwell. Subsequent circumstances too surely confirmed his admission of his guilt. He might perhaps have wished to save him, in fulfilment of some mutual oath."

This passage requires some explanation. Spencer had always declared his total ignorance of Cromwell, and of his visionary schemes: he repeated it earnestly as Mackenzie turned off to go and announce his fate to him. Having enraged him against the man, he says he now said no more about Cromwell's innocence; and catching up that silence as an admission of his guilt, he quotes it as such; but remembering how often Spencer had absolved him from all knowledge even of his foolish joking, he supposes he wished to save him – in fulfilment of some mutual oath. This imagined cause for saving him is shamefully gratuitous, unwarranted by a word from any delator, not inferrible from any premises, and atrociously wicked. In fact this whole story after the commander returned from Small and Cromwell, is without warrant from any thing tangible. Mackenzie got it from Gansevoort; and Gansevoort got one half from one, and the other half from another, without telling which, or when – and it was provably not then; and considering the atrocity of such a communication to Spencer at such time, it is certainly less infamous to the captain and lieutenant to consider it a falsehood of their own invention, to accomplish their own design. Mackenzie's telling it, however, was infernal. The commander then goes on with a batch of gratuitous assumptions, which shows he had no limit in such assumptions but in his capacity at invention. Hear them!

"He (Spencer) more probably hoped that he might yet get possession of the vessel, and carry out the scheme of murder and outrage matured between them. It was in Cromwell that he had apparently trusted, in fulfilment of some agreement for a rescue; and he eloquently plead to Lieutenant Gansevoort when Cromwell was ironed, for his release, as altogether ignorant of his designs, and innocent. He had endeavored to make of Elisha Andrews appearing on the list of the "certain," an alias for Small, though his name as Small appeared also in the list of those to effect the murder in the cabin, by falsely asserting that Small was a feigned name, when he had evidence in a letter addressed by Small's mother to him that Small was her name as well as his."

Assumptions without foundations, inferences without premises, beliefs without knowledge, thoughts without knowing why, suspicions without reasons – are all a species of inventions but little removed from direct falsehood, and leaves the person who indulges in them without credit for any thing he may say. This was pre-eminently the case with the commander Slidell Mackenzie, and with all his informers; and here is a fine specimen of it in himself. First: the presumed probability that Spencer yet hoped to get possession of the vessel, and carry out the scheme of murder and piracy which he had matured. What a presumption in such a case! the case of men, ironed, bagged and helpless, – standing under the gallows in the midst of armed men to shoot and stab for a motion or a sign – and a presumption, not only without a shadow to rest upon, but contradicted by the entire current of all that was sworn – even by Garty and Wales. "Fulfilment of secret agreement for rescue." Secret! Yes! very secret indeed! There was not a man on board the vessel that ever heard such a word as rescue pronounced until after the arrests! The crazy misgivings of a terrified imagination could alone have invented such a scheme of rescue. The name of Small was a sad stumbling block in the road to his sacrifice, as that of Andrews to the truth of the razor case paper. One was not in the list, and the other was not in the ship: and all these forced assumptions were to reconcile these contradictions; and so the idea of an alias dictus was fallen upon, though no one had ever heard Small called Edward Andrews, and his mother, in her letter, gave her own name as her son's, as Small. Having now succeeded in getting Spencer enraged against his two companions in death, the commander takes himself to his real work – that of getting confessions – or getting up something which could be recorded as confessions, under the pretext of writing to his father and mother: and to obtain which all this refined aggravation of the terrors of death had been contrived. But here recourse must be had to the testimony before the court to supply details on which the report is silent, or erroneous, and in which what was omitted must be brought forward to be able to get at the truth. McKinley swears that he was six or eight feet from Spencer when the commander asked him if he wished to write. Spencer answered that he did. An apprentice named Dunn was then ordered to fetch paper and campstool out of the cabin. Spencer took the pen in his hand, and said – "I cannot write." "The commander spoke to him in a low tone. I do not know what he then said. I saw the commander writing. Whether Mr. Spencer asked him to write for him or not, I can't say." – Mr. Oliver H. Perry swears: "Saw the commander order Dunn to bring him paper and ink: saw the commander write: was four or five feet from him while writing: heard no part of the conversation between the commander and Spencer: was writing ten or fifteen minutes." – Other witnesses guess at the time as high as half an hour. The essential parts of this testimony, are – first, That Spencer's hands were ironed, and that he could not write: secondly, that the commander, instead of releasing his hands, took the pen and wrote himself: thirdly, that he carried on all his conversation with Spencer in so low a voice that those within four or five feet of him (and in the deathlike stillness which then prevailed, and the breathless anxiety of every one) heard not a word of what passed between them! neither what Mackenzie said to Spencer, nor Spencer said to him. Now the report of the commander is silent upon this lowness of tone which could not be heard four or five feet – silent upon the handcuffs of Spencer – silent upon the answer of Spencer that he could not write; and for which he substituted on the court-martial the answer that he "declined to write" – a substitution which gave rise to a conversation between the judge advocate and Mackenzie, which the judge advocate reported to the court in writing; and which all felt to be a false substitution both upon the testimony, and the facts of the case. A man in iron handcuffs cannot write! but it was necessary to show him "declining" in order to give him a recording secretary! And it is silent upon the great fact that he sat on the arm-chest with Spencer, and whispering so low that not a human being could hear what passed: and, consequently, that Mackenzie chose that he himself should be the recording secretary on that occasion, and that no one could know whether the record was true or false. The declaration in the report that Spencer read what was written down, and agreed to it, will be attended to hereafter. The point at present is the secrecy, and the fact that the man the most interested in the world in getting confessions from Spencer, was the recorder of these confessions, without a witness! without even Wales, Gansevoort, Garty; or any one of his familiars. For the rest, it becomes a fair question, which every person can solve for themselves, whether it is possible for two persons to talk so low to one another for, from a quarter to half an hour, in such profound stillness, and amidst so much excited expectation, and no one in arm's length able to hear one word. If this is deemed impossible, it may be a reasonable belief that nothing material was said between them – that Mackenzie wrote without dictation from Spencer; and wrote what the necessity of his condition required – confessions to supply the place of total want of proof – admissions of guilt – acknowledgments that he deserved to die – begging forgiveness. And so large a part of what he reported was proved to be false, that this reasonable belief of a fabricated dialogue becomes almost a certainty.

The commander, now become sole witness of Spencer's last words – words spoken if at all – after his time on earth was out – after the announcement in his presence that the ten minutes were out – and hearing the commander's response to the notification, "Very well: " this commander thus proceeds with his report: "I asked him if he had no message to send to his friends? He answered none that they would wish to receive. When urged still further to send some words of consolation in so great an affliction, he said, 'Tell them I die wishing them every blessing and happiness. I deserve death for this and many other crimes – there are few crimes I have not committed. I feel sincerely penitent, and my only fear of death is that my repentance may come too late.'" – This is what the commander reports to the Secretary of the Navy, and which no human witness could gainsay, because no human being was allowed to witness what was said at the time; but there is another kind of testimony, independent of human eyes and ears, and furnished by the evil-doer himself, often in the very effort to conceal his guilt, and more convincing than the oath of any witness, and which fate, or accident, often brings to light for the relief of the innocent and the confusion of the guilty. And so it was in this case with Commander Alexander Slidell Mackenzie. That original record made out upon inaudible whispers on the camp-stool! It still existed – and was produced in court – and here is the part which corresponds (should correspond) with this quoted part of the report; and constituting the first part of the confession: "When asked if he had any message to send: none that they would wish to receive. Afterwards, that you die wishing them every blessing and happiness; deserved death for this and other sins; that you felt sincerely penitent, and only fear of death was that your repentance might be too late." – Compared together, and it is seen that the words "other sins," in the third sentence, is changed into "many other crimes," – words of revoltingly different import – going beyond what the occasion required – and evidently substituted as an introduction to the further gratuitous confession: "There are few crimes which I have not committed." Great consolation in this for those parents for whom the record was made, and who never saw it except as promulgated through the public press. In any court of justice the entire report would be discredited upon this view of flagrant and wicked falsifications. For the rest, there is proof that the first sentence is a fabrication. It is to be recollected that this inquiry as to Spencer's wishes to communicate with his parents was made publicly, and before the pen, ink and paper was sent for, and that the answer was the inducement to send for those writing materials. That public answer was heard by those around, and was thus proved before the court-martial – McKinley the witness: "The commander asked him if he wished to write? Mr. Spencer said he did. The commander ordered Dunn to fetch paper and campstool out of the cabin. Spencer took the pen in his hand – he said, 'I cannot write.' The commander spoke to him in a low tone: I do not know what he then said. I saw the commander writing." This testimony contradicts the made-up report, in showing that Spencer was asked to write himself, instead of sending a message: that the declaration, "nothing that they would wish to hear," is a fabricated addition to what he did say – and that he was prevented from writing, not from disinclination and declining, as the commander attempted to make out, but because upon trial – after taking the pen in his hand – he could not with his handcuffs on. Certainly this was understood beforehand. Men do not write in iron handcuffs. They were left on to permit the commander to become his secretary, and to send a message for him: which message he never sent! the promise to do so being a mere contrivance to get a chance of writing for the Secretary of the Navy, and the public.

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