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[This poem deals with antebellum slavery, plantational

prejudice, and the inherent racism in that location at

that time.  These are not presented merely for shock

or offense, but as a part of the poem's setting.  The

speaker is a fictional construct and not meant to

represent, or to imply representation of, any person

living or dead.]

            ___________________

". . . si formosus Alexis . . ."

 

---Vergil, Eclogues, VII

Thursday, January 21, 1926

To The Attention of M. W. Wellman

c/o Fairmont College, Wichita, Kansas

Dear Mr. Wellman:

Please find enclosed a transcript an account given by

one of the Veterans who resided in our hospital during

his declining years.  He shared this tale with

several of his fellows, here; and one of our physicians

instructed the staff stenographer to transcribe and

record the words on to a permanent record.  The patient

did enjoy a long, if physically and emotionally troubled

life, and passed away on April 14, 1912---a date that

you may consider coincidentally significant.  Although the

patient was not considered to be a danger to himself or to

others around him, his physicians believed his mental

stability to have been seriously compromised, as so many

Veterans are, due to the horrors they have witnessed, and the

subsequent neglect of their needs and well being by the

larger society.

THE TRANSCRIPT:   

I remember that June quite well:  my fortieth birthday.

I was born exactly forty-five days, to the very day,

after the Battle of Bunker Hill.  My pappy may have

thought that was a sign of a glorious military career

ahead of his only son, but he was to be disappointed, as

my greatest career achievement was my election, at the

age of thirty-nine, as constable of Vale Stable Township, a

quiet, peaceful, God-fearing and hard-working community,

far from the County seat and even further from the State

Capitol.  

We thought we were far, and therefore safe from, the

storm centers that were then gathering around us.  The

nomination of a chatty railroad lawyer from Illinois was

only the beginning:  followed by the election, then the

Secession, and the war about to force itself upon us, the

long and bloody battle to preserve the rights of our

States and all of our people to decide what was best for us.

Colonel Jebusite Silicate's plantation, Hollyplace, was

located just beyond the east edge of Vale Stable Township, and

although he contributed nothing to either the rather staid

politics and small revenues of the Township, his presence

still made itself known, upon the rare occasion.  Colonel

Silicate's military rank and reputation, along with the

everlasting gratitude of his country, had been earned in the

Mexican wars.  Retiring with his commendations collected and

his sword intact and shiny, he had purchased the rundown

that Hollyplace had become and had---through shrewd business

acumen, an ability to select well experienced overseers and a

firm uncompromising hand with the many slaves in which he

invested---caused it to become one of the chief showplaces in

our State, and an envy of the other States in which our way of

life, our moralities, and our devout faith were respected and

preserved.  Just as my father had, Colonel Silicate placed all

his hopes and expectations for his family's future in his only

son, Alexis, whose recent seventeenth birthday banquet had been

attended by many leading citizens from all parts of our fine

State; and just as my father had been, the Colonel would soon be

compelled to face and bear the burden of disappointment; and,

added to that, embarrassment---of the most persistent sort.

Alexis was a handsome young man---slender, agile, with long

curls (the length being quite the point of contention with his

father the Colonel, but Alexis found some leverage that

secured his preference in the matter, perhaps by threatening to

refuse admission to the University selected for him by his

ambitious father.  His love of delicate Poetry and of harpsichord

music were considered, by some, to be inappropriate to a young

man who sire had been such a decorated warrior and, now, such a

vigorously successful planter.

You can imagine and, even perhaps, understand (if not sympathize)

with our shock to learn that the runaway, adolescent slave who

had been apprehended as a runaway, severely beaten with extreme

prejudice for such defiance, and deposited in the Township's jail,

was the property of Colonel Jebus Silicate.  Further more---and 

you shall forgive the distasteful facts I must here disclose in 

order to precisely explicate the situation---this slave had

been discovered, in a small copse of trees, engaging in the most

shameful and perverse behavior with Alexis Silicate.  I shall not

say more of that except that our righteous God had rained down

fire and brimstone upon Sodom for such abomination.  In the

deepest rage, likely, that a man like Colonel Silicate must

necessarily feel, he consulted with the Township's resident

Judge, the honorable Elagabal Goiter.  "Alexis shall not

"shame me again," Colonel Silicate was supposed to have told

his friend (they had been members of the selfsame fraternity at

their college, years ago).  "I will not bring tainted property

"back to Hollyplace, lest the egregious infection be spread

"further---that kind of lust being what it is.  Please see to its

"disposal."  While some of our local gentlemen (loudest among

them, my own Deputy, Dirge) opined that only slow, and the

most excruciating, torture inflicted with relentless cruelty, 

Judge Goiter forbid this as inimical to the good example 

required by the community of Vale Stable Township, and so that

Colonel Silicate's expressed demand might be met immediately, 

efficiently and effectively (and the Township's gallows being'

still in some disrepair due to recent disuse over the past several

years), the only practical possibility was lynching,  An ancient,

hearty and sturdy oak tree, only a few yards from the jail,

under which the Township picnic had often been held in the

month of September, provided a convenient venue for the

execution of Judge Goiter's sensible, and very fair, decision.

Furthermore, the religious beliefs of the slave were not

known to us, and a sodomite probably lacked any just by

nature of that heinous sinfulness, we decided not to disturb

any of our reverend clergy who provided pastoral care to

Vale Stable Township.  

Maintaining good order in any possible situation or

contingency is one of the responsibilities of the

Constable; and to secure that end, I requested that the

rather large contingent of eager volunteers and witnesses

remained outside the confines of the jail, while Deputy

Dirge and I made the final preparation to bring the

slave to his just fate, and launch whatever of a soul God

might have given him to Hell.  In the office, as I duly

recorded Colonel Silicate's request and Judge Goiter's

rendered decision, I directed Dirge to shackle the

prisoner and bring him out.  Due to the overcast morning (the

hour being then approximately nine a.m.), the jail's

interior was only dimly lit, as we were zealous to spare the

Township the expense of additional candles. At this

season of the year, cloudy days, with skies as gray as that

now above the jail's roof, were rare.  But one receives that

which one has been given with gratitude.  Thinking of that,

I was suddenly startled by a heart-rending scream, and, at

once, Deputy Dirge leaped around the corner into my line of

sight, moving faster than a housefly toward a dog turd.

His terror was evident:  in fact, I had never Dirge so

frightened since we had first become acquainted during

childhood.  He trembled life a leaf in a windstorm, and his

teeth chattered in there.  I found his posturing offensive, and

informed of this, then commanding him to proceed to the

cell and complete the task I had assigned to him.  Gasping,

he nodded; but, in just a few moments---punctuated by a

shriek that, by now, sounded far more childish than adult,

he returned to the office.  "I cannot go back in there,"

he said in a tone from which all manhood had been driven

away.  Looking closely, I saw that his hair, which had

been lustrous black, was now streaked with gray; and

I feared to learn what might have caused such a shocking

transformation.  I was, however, the Constable of Vale Stable

Township, sworn to successfully carry out the duties and

contingencies of my office.  Although my heart was pounding

fiercely (Deputy Dirge having collapsed into my chair),

I resolve to dispose of this matter immediately so that

Judge Goiter's order and Colonel Silicate's request

should not be further delayed.  As I rounded the corner,

expecting to see an enslaved, severely injured, adolescent

African, I found, instead, a swarthy man, also severely

injured---bruised, and bleeding profusely on to the

purple cloak that had been flung about him.  His long hair

was full of clotted, and clotting, blood from the wounds on

his scalp that had been caused by the crown of enormous

thorns that had been thrust upon his head.  He gazed at the

floor rather than at me.  I looked away, my mouth by then so

dry that I could not have swallowed, and when I looked back,

he remained.  Someone behind me, most definitely not Dirge,

whispered:  "He is not for hanging; he is for the Cross."

Without turning my head, for the fear of it all, I asked,

"Who are you?" and the reply, also whispered at my back, was

"You know I am Caiaphas.  Your droll humor, Centurion, is not

"appreciated, and I doubt your superior, the Governor, would

"appreciate it either.  Be about your duty:  the destiny of

"many people, and the credibility of your own government,

"depends upon your action."  I truly felt my mind pull

apart from itself as I continued to watch the bruised and

bleeding man before me.  Then he met my gaze, and said, "As

"ye have done unto one of the least of these my brethren,

"ye have done unto me."  Despite the volatile situation in the

jail at that moment, the voice was calm, even soothing.  "I

"cannot do what they demand," I cried out, "and I refuse to

"have further to do with this bad business."  A great

effulgence of light filled the cell, and then the thorn-crowned

victim vanished.  In his place, the young African sat, his

face twisted in mortal terror.  With the little bit of

functional thought that remained to me, I noted that his

wounds and injuries were far more serious that had been

reported to me; and this I blamed upon Dirge, who had received

him from the laughing sporters who had hunted him down to

capture.  "Alexis told me to run," he said, in a tone that

made me believe the life was ebbing from him before my

eyes.  "He told me to run.  I think Alexis is dead."  Then he 

succumbed and toppled over to the hard stone floor  In my

soul, not my ears, I heard some words in a comforting voice I

recognized and have never forgotten:  "Today he is with me in

"Paradise."  Whatever had attempted to communicate with me from the

shadows behind me was, I believed, now absent, if it had ever been

there at all.  Perhaps I had brought it with me.

After several sips from a shared flask, Dirge and I reported to the

citizens assembled outside on the jail's front premises; and then to

Judge Goiter, in his office and under oath.  I presume that he

conveyed the information, as we had presented it to him, to

Colonel Silicate.  A petition, quickly circulated through the

Township, demanded the dismissal of Deputy Dirge and my immediate

resignation.  The document was presented to me, directly and

immediately, by Judge Goiter himself.  I was happy, even

relived, to comply with the Township's stated preference.  I

settled my few business affairs, and left for New England, arriving

there just after the election of Abraham Lincoln to the sixteenth

Presidency of the United States, which were about to be torn

asunder for four bloody and tragic years.  When hostilities began,

I enlisted in the Federal Army.  My wounds at Gettysburg were

sufficient to remove me from further combat, and to curtail my

previously ordinary activities from that time.  To this say, I

have received little information from, or about, Vale Stable

Township.  Deputy Dirge drank himself to death sometime during the

second year of the war.  Hollyplace Plantation failed, and was

destroyed by marauders just days prior to General Lee's surrender at

Appomattox Courthouse.  Bankrupt and broken, Colonel Silicate

hung himself from, by coincidence, an old oak tree at the

home of a friend, who had extended him charity.  That friend

believed that the Colonel was harboring some secret knowledge

far too terrible to express, or confess, or admit.  To the

 

best of my knowledge, Alexis Silicate was never seen alive again.  

Starward