which he now had scant enthusiasm. Will Butler’s continuance of the case of Frankie Silver ensured that his successor, not he, would have to hang the prisoner. I think, though, that both of them were playing for time, believing that the petitions and letters to Governor Stokes would surely result in a pardon, so that the dreadful sentence would not have to be carried out by anyone.
The courtroom began to empty.
“What does it mean?” Mrs. Silver sat looking up at her black-clad attorney. Her pale face wore an expression of guarded hope, as if she scarcely dared to believe what she thought must be true.
“You have the gift of six months,” Wilson told her gravely. “I pray that you will use it wisely, madam, in prayer and meditation. Court will meet again in March.”
“It’s over?”
“It is called a continuance, madam.” The lawyer’s voice bristled with annoyance, no doubt because his time was being wasted to no good end by a young puppy of a judge who cared little for the concerns of the western reaches of North Carolina. David Swain’s ambitions lay in Raleigh, and no doubt he had deserted our country courthouse to further his own aims.
“What must I do?”
“You must wait, Mrs. Silver, like the rest of Burke County. Good day.” Thomas Wilson gave her a slight bow and nodded to the jailer, who had come forward with the shackles to take the prisoner back to jail.
David Newland appeared, with a smile of triumph. “This has been the best day’s work Will Butler ever did!” he announced. “He has managed to stall the case until spring, and has thus given the governor time to issue the pardon. I have no doubt that he will do it.”
I motioned for him to keep his voice down, for I saw little Mrs. Silver walking slowly toward the door and glancing back at us. I knew she was listening to Colonel Newland’s declaration: she lifted her head and took a deep breath, as if a weight had been lifted from her back.
Newland, oblivious to my warning signal, prattled on. “Or perhaps the thanks should go to young Judge Swain for this extra time in which to prevent this execution,” he was saying. “Quite providential of Swain not to turn up for this court date.” The colonel turned to Thomas Wilson. “Is it Mr. Woodfin’s doing, do you think, sir?”
The lawyer’s face was white with anger. At last he said, “I believe the word you used just now was providential,Colonel Newland, and I judge it to be the correct one. I should thank no one but Almighty God for this respite, if you are inclined to think it a blessing. My prayers on that subject will be that the prisoner not have her suffering prolonged by false hopes and a protracted wait for a death that would be more merciful if it came quickly.”
And so she was gone, locked away for another season to pass the harvest, and then the winter, in that narrow cell, and I’m afraid I gave little thought to her over the next several weeks, for we are busy enough at harvesttime. I know that the ladies of Morganton continued to visit her, though, for I have heard Elizabeth speak of it among her sisters. They have made quite a pet out of the county’s most notorious criminal, and I found myself wondering if the ladies were basking in the melodrama of the doomed woman, or whether they envied her the courage and determination she showed in disposing of an unwanted husband. The men of the county thought she had perpetrated a great wickedness, but I am not sure that the fair sex shared our thoughts on the matter. Many a man in the tavern was uneasy enough when the talk turned round to Frankie Silver, and those who professed the loudest that she should be hanged without delay were the very men who seemed the least respectful of their own wives. I wondered sometimes if brutish husbands behaved a little better that year because of the terrible example of retribution that Mrs. Silver had set before us.
Several weeks after the dismissal of court, elections were held and John Boone took his place as the newly elected sheriff. I am sure he thought that the case of Frankie Silver would be over and done with before he took office, but it lingered still, harrowing him with the dreadful possibility of an execution in his term. Other prominent citizens of