Clockwork Souls Read Online Free Page B

their fellows. This Durham N. Turner, who claimed Adam as his property,
would not understand. Nor might those who championed the rights of African
slaves, but who might see Adam and his kind as machines without agency or moral
choice. If the plight of enslaved blacks was dire, what of those who were not
even recognized as human?

    Thomas arrived early at the New Castle courthouse, an
imposing structure of red brick. The courtroom itself was large, chill and damp
in these winter months. Thomas took his place in front of the railing, not a
little surprised to find every chair and bench in the viewing section occupied,
a few women among the men. More onlookers stood shoulder-to-shoulder along the
back of the room, spilling out onto the corridor beyond. The audience was
equally divided between fellow Quakers and sympathizers, and well-dressed folk
who, by their expressions of disapproval, represented the pro-slavery position.
Several reporters, including a man from the magazine The Blue Hen’s Chicken , stood at the back, taking notes. The
atmosphere was tense, with many hostile glances cast in the direction of Thomas
and the other Friends. Even so, Thomas found cause for optimism. Thomas Garrett
had prevailed upon his good friend, the abolitionist John Wales, for the
defense. On the other hand, the judges were Charles W. Hall, an undistinguished
District judge, and Chief Justice Roger Taney. Taney had presided over the Amistad case, considered a victory for
the anti-slavery movement, but he was also known as a strict proponent of
states’ rights.
    The judges took their places on the bench, the jury was
seated, and proceedings began with a series of motions followed by opening
statements. John Wales had warned Thomas that the case was likely to go against
him. There was no evidence that Thomas had harbored Nat. On the other hand,
three eyewitnesses had seen Adam at the Covington farm and had heard Thomas
refuse to hand him over to Robert Cochoran. Those witnesses proceeded to give
testimony, as did Durham N. Turner. On cross-examination, Wales asked each to
describe the automaton, a self-locomoting machine in the shape of a man, and
for Turner to give its provenance. Turner produced a bill of sale from an
importing firm, the Lake Geneva Trading Company. The sheriff testified that
once a complaint had been filed and a warrant issued, he had searched the Covington
farm but found no sign of the described property. He could not state of his own
knowledge if such a device had ever been present.
    Chief Justice Taney had been listening to the testimony, a
frown on his long, dour face. He wanted to know how the defendant had been able
to prevent a self-locomoting machine from carrying out the instructions of an
agent, meaning Cochoran, placed in authority over it. Had Thomas instructed the
machine otherwise? Had he physically restrained it?
    Cochoran returned to the stand and was reminded he was still
under oath. “Nossir, your Honor, Covington didn’t do nothing but stand there.”
    “Then why were you unable to retrieve the automaton?”
    “Well, he . . .” the slave-catcher glanced at
Thomas. “He talked to it. Pardon, his wife did. She asked what it wanted to do.”
    Taney’s shoulders straightened, a subtle movement under the
folds of his judge’s gown. Thomas caught the leap of interest in his
expression, a tightening of the small muscles around the eyes. “And what did
this device communicate? It can speak?”
    “Yessir, it surely can. It said—” Cochoran’s face twisted
with the effort of remembering “—it didn’t like bein’ a slave, so it wouldn’t
do that to anyone else. Or thereabouts.”
    Now Judge Hall sat up as well. “This mechanical device quoted the Golden Rule?”
    “Not . . . not exactly.”
    “Exactly enough for this court,” Taney said dryly, “albeit
in the negative form.”
    “Your Honor,” Turner’s attorney spoke up once the bustle of
reaction from the audience had died down.