namesake once got into just such a quarrel with a fellow lawyer over in Tennessee. They agreed to a duel, and when the time came for the battle of honor, each man carefully fired a shot over the head of the other. They left the field the best of friends—or so the family says.”
Woodfin looked thoughtful. “Who was the other lawyer?” “Andrew Jackson.” “I thought so.” Woodfin smiled. “Well, that was a long time ago, my friend, and there were giants in
those days, but here in 1851, we are given the task of defending a man whose opponent was even less of
a gentleman than Andrew Jackson. Horsewhipping a colleague in a public street! I ask you!” “And you think you can get him freed, despite the lapse of two weeks between incident and reprisal? Despite the scores of witnesses?”
“Of course I can,” said Woodfin. “No one should hang when his offense has been committed in defense
of his person or his honor.” “I wish you could have convinced a jury of that twenty years ago,” I said with a sigh. It was an impudent remark to make, I suppose, but I was uneasy with the dismissal of Samuel Fleming’s murder as a justifiable execution. Also, the memory of Frankie Silver had lain heavily on my mind these past few days, and my words were out before I could call them back.
Woodfin gave me a blank look. “Twenty years ago?” “In this very court. You lost that capital case, alas.” “Lord, yes. Little Mrs. Silver,” sighed Woodfin. “I have not forgotten her. I wish to this day that I could
have saved her. You were at that trial, too, weren’t you, Gaither?” I nodded. “I was clerk of Superior Court in those days.” “And old Tom Wilson was my co-counsel. I always pictured him as an unhappy cross between crow
and scarecrow. What has become of him, anyhow? I had thought to have seen him here.” I hesitated. “He no longer lives in Burke County,” I said at last. “He has taken his family off to Texas.” “Really? How long ago?” “Only a few months back.” “Thomas Wilson went to Texas? At his age? What was he, seventy?” “Only sixty, I think,” I said, as if that made it any less extraordinary for an elderly lawyer to strike out for
far-off territory. “But I thought he had been practicing law here in Morganton forever,” Woodfin protested. “Twenty years or so. Yes.” “And surely I’m correct in remembering that his wife had some connection to the Erwins of Belvidere?” “She is Matilda Erwin’s niece.” I had avoided looking at Woodfin as I made my replies, and he must
have realized that I was less than forthcoming about the matter of Thomas Wilson’s sudden departure.
He was watching me closely. “So,” he said, “Thomas Wilson has given up a twenty-year law practice, and a good farm near his influential relatives. At his advanced age, he has forsaken the state of Carolina to go and seek his fortune
in Texas. Does he think that he will have some political future out there in the new government in Austin, now that the territory has become a state?” “He has not gone to Austin,” I murmured. “Really, I know nothing about it.” Nicholas Woodfin was an excellent lawyer. Certainly he was too skilled at cross-examination to let this
remark pass, no matter how casually I endeavored to say it. “The Wilsons have notgone to Austin?” “No.” “Where then?” “I believe my wife has had a letter from Mrs. Wilson a few weeks back. It seems that the family has
settled in a little place called Seguin.” “Where in God’s name is that?” “They say that it is in the vicinity of San Antonio, where the Battle of the Alamo was fought.” “Seguin,” Woodfin repeated, searching his mind for a familiar ring to the word. He did not find one. “Is it
a spa of some sort? A restorative to health?” “No. It boasts no mineral springs. It is said to be a dry sort of place.” He pondered this. “Gold mining country?” “I think not.” “Land grants for gentlemen settlers?” “Not that I have heard. No.” “Is he practicing law, then?” “I believe he is. Certainly. I have not heard otherwise.” I cast about for some other topic to distract my
colleague from his interrogation. Even talk of Avery’s plight was beginning to seem preferable to our
current discussion. “I believe it is difficult to practice law in Texas,” said Woodfin. “One must not only know United States