Part 2 (1/2)
Some commit crimes only when influenced by strong drink, and then steal, quarrel or murder. Many can not help their wrong doing, or will not, and therefore should remain in prison, where they can live as very good men, and aid the State instead of cursing society by their wrong deeds.
They do not all steal for the gain, but for the sake of stealing. Hence here is one who will h.o.a.rd up his booty and never go to it afterwards. I asked an old man, a burglar, what induced him to lead such a life, and received this answer: ”There is something peculiarly exciting in the engagements. I never engaged in it for what I could obtain.”
12. _Prayer meetings commenced._ Previous to the present fall, no prayer meetings had been established at the prison, the need of which we now greatly felt. After much thought on the matter, I asked the warden if we could not introduce them, and he answered, ”Oh no, that can't be. There are so many hypocrites among the prisoners, who would take advantage to say what they might choose, and to the disgust of the others, that we can not control the matter.” This came from no lack of interest in the subject, for it was the very thing that had found a large place in his contemplations and desires, though he had seen no time when he could feel it safe to take the step. Not being able to put the idea out of mind, I soon brought it before him again, but in connection with the Sabbath school teachers. After duly considering the pros and cons, the question was decided thus,--”Start such a meeting, to be held weekly, if found practicable. Next Sabbath let each teacher, when hearing his cla.s.s, select such of the number as he may think fitted for the exercise; pa.s.sing the names to the warden for him to invite them in at his discretion, the meeting to commence the following Monday evening.”
To prepare their minds for the occasion, the discourse, the next Sabbath, was on hypocrisy, the text being the account of Ananias and Sapphira, with the attempt to point out the enormity and danger of that sin, that the truly sincere should not be kept from duty by hypocrisy as seen in others, or by being accused of it in themselves by the malicious. At the close, the warden, grasping my hand, said, ”We will let all go in who choose. We will make no selection,” and we appointed the meeting accordingly.
Met at the time appointed, nearly one hundred being present, for it was a novel matter there. In the commencement I clearly stated what would be expected of all who might engage in prayer or speaking, referring to the subject of the sermon the past day, and said that the opportunity was offered for those only to improve who sincerely desired to become better and were truly determined to act accordingly, expressing the full conviction that none would presume to come forward under any hypocritical pretenses.
A few of the Sabbath school teachers present took part to good acceptance. Then two or three of the inmates offered prayer, and three or four spoke of their feelings and desires. They could not have been more appropriate in their words, spirit, or manner. To all appearances they were sincere.
Perfect order prevailed,--a most profound and respectful attention. Much of the time the dropping of a pin upon the floor could have been heard.
An overpowering spirit seemed to pervade the room, not so much in the words uttered as in the convictions of each man's own heart, it was an impressive season. How was my soul relieved at this triumph over our fears and rejoiced at the way G.o.d had evidently opened before us.
Thus the meetings commenced and that too indicating, as the first results, the very blessing I had been hoping and praying for, a deeper impressiveness to our Sabbath and other religious efforts. Shortly after, we found that hearts not sensibly touched before, were being deeply impressed, among them one of the worst cases perhaps in prison.
It was taking a new start in the right direction.
In laboring with these men now, as at all times, I felt that a great responsibility rested on me; that this was no place for dealing softly, petting them with insinuations that they had been more sinned against than sinning, and that nothing was needed for them but a professed determination to amend, with a few efforts in that direction. Duty seemed imperative that I should labor to bring the wrong doings of each as clearly and impressively as could be before him, how deeply he had sinned against his own best good, his fellows and his G.o.d, enforcing the absolute necessity of true repentance, and turning to the right through faith in Christ; that he must make a thorough, radical work of the matter, or it would avail nothing. Thus plainly, yet coupled with a feeling heart, I invariably met the prisoners on these subjects. And where no evidence could be found of a realizing sense of sins committed and true compunction therefor, we could found no hope in the case.
13. _Pike, the Hampton murderer._ On entering, I found him in prison, not at work, but confined to his cell according to our present law, that, when one is condemned to execution, he shall be confined in the State Prison one year, at the end of which the sentence shall be carried out, unless receiving a reprieve or commutation.
By law also, the criminal has the right to choose his own spiritual adviser, and, much to my relief, I found that Pike had arranged with my predecessor about this before he left. Still I volunteered to the doomed man all the aid in my power, for which he appeared highly grateful.
The plea of insanity had been used on the trial, or that the accused was in a state of mind, when committing the offense, that rendered him irresponsible for the crime alleged, which plea Pike would ever make to me, sometimes alluding to the great injustice of his being hung. But as Mr. Holman had undertaken to fathom that, I never pressed him with any particular inquiry on the matter.
It would seem impossible for one manifesting the spirit Pike always did to us, to commit so horrid a crime, and probably he never would had he been free from rum. In prison, he at all times appeared gentlemanly and kind-hearted, helped me a number of days in repairing the library, and seemed glad of the opportunity.
When laboring with those he afterwards murdered, he was uniformly pleasant, ready to do anything for them they needed. They parted on the most friendly terms, the old people earnestly urging him to continue with them still longer.
But when Pike was under the influence of liquor, he was a very different man, and at times a highly dangerous character. In this he was fully responsible, for he could have let the drink alone, and did when he chose. I saw nothing leading me to doubt his full responsibility in the murder. But others also are responsible,--those who helped him to his liquor and thus caused his madness. Against them, also, the blood of those mangled forms cries loudly from the ground to a righteous G.o.d for vengeance. The community likewise, which, by supineness and inactivity, permitted those persons to carry on their nefarious traffic, must come in for its share. The blame of that startling act does not all lie at Pike's door, though he was guilty enough.
When I attempted to urge upon him the importance of a full preparation for the dread event before him, he seemed strangely inclined to put it off and almost callous to the magnitude of his sin. He would admit that his career had been one of desperate wickedness, but did not appear truly moved in spirit by its real enormity, or as having genuine repentance over the matter, a thorough breaking up of the fallow ground of the heart. Trusting to the idea of his non-responsibility as a s.h.i.+elding circ.u.mstance, he no doubt felt almost perfect confidence, till near the last, that a pardon, or commutation, would be granted, and ventured on that a.s.surance. I constantly discouraged the idea, repeatedly urging him to put no confidence in that, but earnestly to set about a preparation for the worst. The final decision of the executive power, not to interfere with the decision of the court, came to me, but in such a way that I was not at liberty to announce it till officially divulged. Still, feeling so anxious for the criminal, I went as far as the circ.u.mstances would allow, and said to him, ”From what I hear, your case is finally decided, but not in your favor. And I am perfectly satisfied that my information is reliable.” But it was not official, and the very fact of its being withheld inspired him with hope that I was mistaken.
The rulers, no doubt, did as they thought best in the matter, but it would seem that there was an error on their part in not communicating their finality to the criminal as soon as made. It was a grave matter to him, and the last few days he reflected no little upon the course.
In our labors with the doomed man, we had two prominent points before us, one to fit his mind for going upon the gallows with the needed fort.i.tude, the other to lead him to a due preparation for appearing before his G.o.d. During the last week, by his desire, clergymen from the city visited him. A few of the singers from the city, also, by the warden's invitation, occasionally called and spent a short time with him, singing some of those devotional pieces so well fitted to his case, which were followed by prayer and then all retired. His cell was now in the hall. This occurred when the other prisoners were in the shop at work, for at no other time were visitors allowed at his cell. Two or three of his last days were spent in the hospital, which then had no sick occupant. The strictest care and watchfulness were observed by the officers, so that, whether in his cell or in the hospital, he could not possibly escape if he attempted it.
The day appointed for the execution was Tuesday. Monday the criminal frankly admitted to his adviser, that he knew what he was doing that terrible night, and was fully responsible for the deed, which acknowledgment he signed in writing. He also dictated a letter to his youngest brother, faithfully warning him against following his own ways of wildness and drinking, also a note containing good advice to two young men who had been officers in the prison, and finally an address to be read on the scaffold. Brothers and other relatives took leave of him Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.
The fatal hour was fixed at eleven, A. M. Pike was up in due season, took a slight morning repast, dressed for the day, had devotional exercises, and finished parting with friends at nine, that he might have opportunity for becoming duly rested and composed in mind for that painful occasion. At ten the other officers retired, leaving him alone with us two. What an hour before us? I had never experienced the like before and hope never to again. It was much like standing on the crumbling verge of time and looking into eternity's vast abyss.
We had a season of prayer, then conversation for the purpose of learning his present feelings and convictions. He professed a hope that G.o.d had forgiven his sins and would accept him at last; said that no doubt it would be better for him to go then than be pardoned and return to the world once more, for, in that case, his appet.i.te might overpower him again and he do other horrid deeds. Still, it was hard to die in the way he must.
Personal conversation over, we continued bringing to his mind fitting portions of Scripture and appropriate verses from hymns and thus occupied the moments till eleven slowly arrived.