In the midst of all the war preparations, there was the following incident.
On Friday, December 11, 1812, a negro girl was hung near Staunton for the murder, by drowning, of her master's infant child. She was duly tried and convicted by the County Court, October 29th, Mr. Peyton prosecuting, and General Blackburn defending the accused. The circumstance would not deserve mention in a history of the county, but an incident connected with it is somewhat interesting. Much sympathy was excited in the community in behalf of the miserable girl, many persons doubting whether she intended to drown the child. At any rate there was a feverish state of feeling on the subject.It is a reminder of the complexity of history. Today's critical theory identitarians would hold this up as an example of the inherent racism of the time. Clearly, though, while no-one appears to have to disputed the negligent homicide, there was more than a small minority who felt that it did not warrant execution. People were engaging with a sense of justice and not beholden to some blind race hatred.
During the night after the execution the people of Staunton were aroused from their slumber by a most unearthly noise. Loud and apparently supernatural groans resounded through the town. The people generally rushed into the streets to ascertain the cause, and some of the more superstitious sort professed to have seen the girl alluded to sitting on the steps of the jail.
It was years before the cause of alarm was ascertained. At the time of the occurrence and for many years afterwards, a large two-story frame building stood on the northwest corner of New and Courthouse streets, opposite the Washington Tavern, and in this building Ben. Morris, a prosperous merchant, had his store. He had in his employment a mischievous clerk, or salesman, who confessed, when it was safe to do so, that he had climbed upon the roof of the store-house through the trap-door, and aroused the town by means of a speaking-trumpet.
And what about the clerk? Was he simply showing profound bad taste in making a jape out of an execution or was he taking an opportunity to draw attention to an injustice.
In this spare account, we cannot tell. In fact we cannot know. We know the whats and the hows but not the whys. The past is a foreign country speaking a different language and we can only make rough translations.
There is another story in the same book, one without the racial element but one which still challenges us to understand what it was people were thinking.
During the last decade of the 18th century, — how long before and how long after we have not inquired, — horse-stealing was a capital offense in Virginia, and many persons convicted of the crime were sentenced to death. It would seem from documents printed in the Calendar of Virginia State Papers, that in every case the sentence was followed by a petition, more or less numerously signed, asking the Governor to pardon the condemned, which shows that popular sentiment was not in favor of inflicting the death penalty. At any rate we know of only one hanging for horse-stealing, and that was at Staunton.What, at this remove, are we to make of this story? Innocent simpleton or bad man? We cannot now know. All we can tell is that there was no community unanimity and that there were many who sought mercy and who felt that the law failed.
The name of the unhappy man was John Bullitt, the "black sheep" of a most respectable family. He was arrested in Rockingham county. At that time, and for long afterwards, white persons accused of felony were arraigned before a Court of five Justices of the Peace, who heard the testimony and either discharged the accused or held him for trial before a higher tribunal, first the District Court, and afterwards the Superior Court for the county. The “Examining Court" of Rockingham sent Bullitt on for trial before the District Court, and in October, 1790, he was committed to jail in Staunton. He lay in jail the following winter, "without a spark of fire and but little bed covering," as stated in the petition for his pardon.
At April term, 1791, of the District Court, only one Judge attended, and the prisoner claimed a continuance till the next term. By the time the September term arrived, the Commonwealth's Attorney had discovered that the crime was committed in Augusta, and therefore that the Justices of Rockingham had not jurisdiction of the case. The indictment which had been found was dismissed, and the prisoner recommitted for re-examination in Augusta.
With the prospect of another cold winter before him to say nothing of the gallows in prospect, Bullitt broke jail and fled. We next hear of him under arrest in Fauquier county, in May, 1793. It would seem that after his escape from jail he enlisted, or was believed to have enlisted, as a soldier in the United States army, and was arrested in Fauquier as a deserter. He was about to be discharged, however, when Mr. Archibald Stuart, the Commonwealth's Attorney for Augusta, hearing of his arrest, sent for him by a man named Rhodes. Mr. Stuart said, in a letter to the Governor, dated May 23rd, that he was anxious for Bullitt to be brought to trial as there was "an illiberal suspicion among ye people," that his escape from the Staunton jail "was favored by all concerned, being ye brother of a Judge.
The Examining Court of Augusta sat on the 26th of August, 1793, and consisted of Alexander Robertson, Alexander St. Clair, Robert Douthat, William Moffett and Alexander Humphreys, "Gentlemen Justices." Bullitt was charged with "feloniously stealing and carrying away from the plantation of John Nichols, Sr., on the 18th day of September, 1790, a gray horse of the price of thirty pounds, and other property belonging to said Nichols of the value of five pounds. Total value of the stolen property $116.66 2/3. Upon the testimony of John Nichols, Sr., John Nichols, Jr., Jesse Atkinson and George Sea, the prisoner was sent on for trial before the District Court "to be holden at Staunton, on the 2nd day of September next."
When the District Court met, the Commonwealth's Attorney filed an indictment against Bullitt, and he was tried by the following jury: Hugh Gilkeson, Edward Rutledge, John Emmet, Gabriel Alexander, Samuel Long, John Young, Samuel McCutchen, Robert Hanna, Walter Davis, John Poage, Daniel Finland, and William Chambers. The jury found the prisoner guilty, and on the 12th of September he was sentenced by the Court to be hung on Friday, October 18, 1793 between 10 A. M. and 2 P. M. The order book of the court has disappeared, and we cannot tell which of the Judges presided, and what lawyer defended the prisoner.
Popular sympathy was slow in moving. It was not till the 12th of October that Robert Gamble wrote to Governor Lee, enclosing a petition for Bullitt's pardon. The petition was signed by eighty-eight citizens, among them Alexander McClanahan, Jacob Kinney, William Breckinridge, Vincent Tapp, M. Garber, Sr. and Jr., William Abney, Moses McCue. Alexander St. Clair, John McDowell, Robert Bailey, Alexander Nelson, Robert McClanahan, Smith Thompson, and James Bowyer.
Tradition says that Bullitt was feeble-minded; that young Nichols loaned him the horse, but feared to avow it to his father, a harsh man; and that the condemned man was returning with the horse when first arrested. The petition makes no such statements. It admits Bullitt's guilt, and says he was a man of bad character; but pleads that he has suffered much, part of the time in irons, was "extremely penitent," and promised reformation. The Governor was inexorable.
The County Court, at its session on October 16th, ordered the sheriff to erect a gallows "at the fork of the roads leading from Staunton to Miller's iron works and to Peter Hanger's," and that, the order says, "shall be considered as the place of execution of all condemned persons in future, which may by law be executed by the sheriff of Augusta." Evidently the court anticipated a brisk business in that line. The fork of the roads alluded to is the point in the northern part of the town where Augusta and New streets unite. The spot was then in the woods, and a log house built there afterwards was long occupied by the Gorden family. There Bullitt paid the penalty of his life for a paltry offense on the 18th of October.
It is related that the Rev. John McCue was present at the execution, and betrayed great emotion. The popular feeling was long expressed by a saying often repeated to puzzle children: "That if a person would go to John Gorden's house and say, 'John Bullitt, what were you hung for?' he would say nothing.”
The gallows at the place described gave to all the northern part of Staunton the name of Gallowstown.
The late James Bell, a young man of twenty-one in 1793, was deputy sheriff that year, and officiated at the execution.
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