life. No man would willingly be thought so very unskilful, as that
ill-starred Palinurus, who made the shores of Norway, on a voyage to the
coast of Africa. Whether wealth, or fame, or fashion, or pleasure be the
principal object of pursuit, no one is willing to be accounted a
disappointed man, after the application of his best energies, for years.
The man of wealth--the man of ambition, for example, are desirous of being
accounted happy. It would certainly be exceedingly annoying to both, to be
convinced, that they were believed, by mankind, to be otherwise. Their
condition is rendered tolerable, only by the conviction, that thousands
suppose them happy, and covet their condition accordingly. There is
something particularly agreeable, in being envied, of course. Now, it is
the common law of man's nature--a law, that executes itself--that
_possession makes him poor_ as Horace says, Sat. i. 1, 1.
--------"Nemo, quam sibi sortem,
Seu ratio dederit, seu fors objecerit illi,
Contentus vivat."--------
All experience has demonstrated, that happiness is not to be bought, and
that what there is of it, in this present life, is a home-made article,
which every one produces for himself, in the workshop of his own bosom. It
no more consists, in the accumulation of wealth, than in snuffing up the
east wind. The poor believe the rich to be happy--they become rich, and
find they were mistaken. But they keep the secret, and affect to be happy,
nevertheless.
Seneca looked upon the devotion of time and talent to the acquirement of
money, beyond the measure of a man's reasonable wants, with profound
contempt. He called such, as gave themselves up to the unvarying pursuit
of wealth, _short lived_; meaning that the hours and years, so employed,
were carved out of the estate of a man's life, and utterly thrown away.
There is a fine passage, in ch. 17, of Seneca's book, _De Brevitate Vitae_.
"Misserrimam ergo necesse est, non tantum brevissimam, vitam eorum esse,
qui magno parant labore, quod majore possideant: operose assequuntur quae
volunt, anxii tenent quae assecuti sunt. Nulla interim nunquam amplius
redituri temporis est ratio"--It is clear, therefore, that the life must
be very miserable, and very brief, of those, who get their gains with
great labor, and hold on to their gettings with greater--who obtain the
object of their wishes, with much difficulty, and are everlastingly
anxious for the safe keeping of their treasures. They seem to have no true
estimate of those hours, thus wasted, which never can return.
In one of his admirable letters to Lucilius, the eightieth, on the subject
of poverty, he says--"Si vis scire quam nihil in illa mali sit, compara
inter se pauperum et divitum vultus. Saepius pauper et fidelius ridet;
nulla sollicitudo in alto est; etiamsi qua incidit cura, velut nubes levis
transit Horum, qui felices vocantur, hilaritas ficta est, au gravis et
suppurata tristitia; eo quidem gravior, quia interdum non licet palam esse
miseros, sed inter aerumnas, cor ipsum exedentes, necesse est agere
felicem"--If you wish to know, that there is no evil therein, compare the
faces of the rich and the poor. The poor man laughs much oftener, and more
heartily. There is no wearying solicitude pressing upon his inmost soul,
and when care comes, it passes away, like a thin cloud. But the hilarity
of these rich men, who are called happy, is affected, or a deep-seated and
rankling anxiety, the more oppressive, because it never would answer for
them to appear as miserable, as they are, being constrained to appear
happy, in the midst of harassing cares, gnawing at their vitals.
If Seneca had been on 'Change, daily, during the last half year, and
watched the countenances of our wealthy money-lenders, he could not have
portrayed the picture with a more masterly pencil. The rate of usury has,
of course, a relation to the hazard encountered, and that hazard is ever
uppermost in the mind of the usurer: and it is extremely doubtful, if the
hope, however sanguine, of realizing two per cent. a month, is always
sufficient, to quiet those fears, which will occasionally arise, of losing
the principal and interest together.
I never buried an old usurer, without a conviction, as I looked upon his
hard, corrugated features, that, if he could carry nothing else with him,
he certainly carried upon his checkered brow the very phylactery of his
calling. We may talk about money, as an article of commerce, till we are
tired--we may weary the legislature, by our importunity, into a repeal of
the existing laws against usury--we may cudgel our brains, to stretch the
mantle of the law over our operations, and make it appear _a regular
business transaction_--it is a case, in which no refinement of the
culinary art will ever be able to disguise, or neutralize, the odor of
the opossum--there ever was--there is--there ever will be, I am afraid, a
certain touch of moral _nastiness_ about it, which no casuistical
chemistry will ever be able entirely to remove.
Doubtless, there are men, who take something more, during a period of
scarcity, than legal interest, and who are very worthy men withal. There
are others, who are descendants, in the right line, from the horse-leech
of biblical history--who take all they can get. Now, there is but one
category: _they are all usurers_; and those, who are respectable, impart
of their respectability to such, as have little or none; and give a
confidence to those, who would be treated with contempt, for their
merciless gripings, were they not banded together, with men of character,
in the same occupation, as usurers. Those, who take seven or eight per
cent. per annum, and those who take _one per cent. a day_, and such things
have been, are not easily distinguished; but the question, who come within
the category, as usurers, is a thing more readily comprehended. All are
such, who exceed the law.
_Usurer_, originally, was not a term of reproach; for _interest_ and
_usury_ meant one and the same thing. The earlier statutes against usury,
in England, were directed chiefly against the Jews--whose lineal
descendants are still in our midst. Usury was forbidden, by act of
Parliament, in 1341. The rate then taken by the Jews, was enormous. In
1545, 37 Henry VIII., the rate established was ten per cent. This statute
was confirmed by 13 Eliz. 1570. Reduced to eight per cent., 21 James I.
1623, when the word _interest_ was first employed, instead of _usury_.
Again reduced, by Cromwell, 1650, to six per cent. Confirmed by Charles
II. 1660. Reduced to five per cent., 5 Anne, 1714.
There are not two words about it; extortion and usury harden the heart;
soil the reputation; and diminish the quantum of happiness, by lowering
the standard of self-respect. That unconscionable griper, whose god is
Mammon, and who fattens upon misery, as surely as the vulture upon
carrion, stalking up and down like a commercial buzzard, tearing away the
substance of his miserable victim, by piecemeal--_two per cent. a
month_--can he be happy! However much like a human being he may have
looked, in his youth, the workings of his mercenary soul have told too
truly upon his iron features, until that visage would form an appropriate
figure-head for the portal of 'Change alley, or the Inquisition.
--------"Is your name Shylock?
Shylock is my name."
To how many, in this age of _anxious inquirers_, may we hold up this
picture, and propound this interrogatory!
God is just, though Mahomet be not his prophet. Instead of exclaiming,
that God's ways are past finding out, let us go doggedly to work, and
study them a little. Some of them, I humbly confess, appear sufficiently
intelligible, with common sense for an expositor. Does not the All-wise
contriver say, in language not to be mistaken, to such as worship, at the
shrines of avarice and sensuality--you have chosen idols, and your
punishment shall consist, in part, in the ridicule and contempt, which the
worship of these idols brings upon your old age. You--the victim of
intemperance--shall continue, with your bloated lips, to worship--not a
stone image--but a stone jug; and grasping your idol with your trembling
fingers, literally stagger into the grave! And you, though last, not
least, of all vermicular things, whose whole time and intellectual powers
are devoted to no higher object than making money--shall still crawl
along, heaping up treasure, day after day--day after day--to die at last,
not knowing who shall come after you, a wise man or a fool!
"Constant at Church and 'Change; his gains were sure,
His givings rare, save farthings to the poor!
The Dev'l was piq'd such saintship to behold,
And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old;
But Satan now is wiser than of yore,
And tempts, by making rich, not making poor."
No. XLIX.
Self-conceit and vanity are very pardonable offences, till, stimulated by
flattery, or aggravated by indulgence, they assume the offensive forms of
arrogance and insolence. If we should drive, from the circle of our
friends, all, who are occasionally guilty of such petty misdemeanors, we
should restrict ourselves to the solitude of Selkirk. There are some
worthy men, with whom this little infirmity is an intermittent,
alternating, like fever and ague, between self-conceit and self-abasement.
Like some estimable people, of both sexes, who, at one moment, proclaim
themselves the chief of sinners, and the next, are in admirable working
condition, as the spiritual guides and instructors of all mankind; these
persons, under the influence of the wind, or the weather, or the world's
smiles, or its frowns, or the state of their digestive organs, indicate,
by their air and carriage, today, a feeling, far on the sunny side of
self-complacency, and of deep humility, tomorrow.
William Boodle has been dead, some twenty years. He was my school-fellow.
I would have undertaken anything, for Boodle, while living, but I could
not undertake for him, when dead. The idea of burying Billy Boodle, my
playmate from the cradle--we were put into breeches, the very same
day--with whom I had passed, simultaneously, through all the
epocha--rattles--drums--go-carts--kites--tops--bats--skates--the idea of
shovelling the cold earth upon him, was too much. I would have buried the
Governor and Council, with the greatest pleasure, but Billy Boodle--I
couldn't. So I changed works, that day, with one of our craft, who
comprehended my feelings perfectly.
I never shall forget my sensations, the first time he called me _Mr.
Wycherly_. We had ever been on terms of the greatest intimacy, and had
never known any other words of designation, than Abner and Bill. I was
very much amazed; and he seemed a little confused, himself, when I laughed
in his face, and asked him what the devil he meant by it. But he grew
daily more formal in his manners, and more particular in his dress. His
voice became changed--he began to use longer words--assumed an unusual
wave of the hand, and a particular movement of the head, when
speaking--and, while talking, on the most common-place topics, he had a
way, quite new with him, of bringing down the fore-finger of his right
hand, frequently and forcibly, upon the ball of the uplifted thumb of the
left. He was a leather-breeches maker; and I caught him, upon two or three
occasions, spouting in his shop, all by himself, before a small
looking-glass. He once made a pair of buckskins, for old General
Heath--they did not fit--the General returned them, and Boodle said he
would have them _taken into a new draft_--I thought he was a little
deranged: "taken where?" said the old General. Boodle colored, and
corrected himself, saying he would have them _let out_. He had two turns
of this strange behavior, in one year, during which, he was rather
neglectful of his business, pompous in his family, and talked to his wife,
who was a plain, notable woman, of nothing but first principles, and
political economy. In the intervals between these attacks, he was
perfectly himself again, and it was Abner and Bill, as in former days.
I have often smiled, at my own dullness, in not sooner apprehending the
solution of this little enigma. Boodle was a member of the Legislature;
and the fits were upon him, during the sessions. No man, probably, was
ever more thoroughly confounded, than my old friend, when, it having been
deemed expedient to compliment the leather-breeches interest, the
committee requested him to permit his name to be put upon the list of
candidates, as one of the representatives of the city of Boston, in the
General Court. He could not think of it--the committee averred the utter
impossibility of doing without him--he was ignorant of the duties--they
could be learned in half a day--he was without education--the very thing,
a self-taught man! He consented.
How much more easily we are persuaded to be great men, than to be
Christians! There is but a step from conscious insignificancy to the
loftiest pretension. Boodle was elected, and awoke the next morning, less
surprised by the event, than at the extraordinary fact, that his talents
had been overlooked, so long. He spoiled three good skins that day, from
sheer absence of mind.
However disposed we may be to laugh at the airs of men, who so entirely
misapprehend themselves and their constituents, our laughter should be
tempered with charity. They are not honestly told, that they are wanted,
only as makeweights--to keep in file--to follow, _en suite_--to register
an edict: and their vanity is pardonable, in the ratio of that ignorance
of themselves, which leads them to rely, so implicitly, upon the testimony
of others.
Comparative mensuration is a very popular process, and a very comforting
process, for all, who have made small progress in self-knowledge; and this
category comprehends all, but a very small minority. There are a few, I
doubt not, who think humbly of themselves; but there are very few, indeed,
who cannot perceive, in themselves, or their possessions, some one or more
points of imaginary superiority, over their fellows. This is an
inexpensive mode of enjoying one's self, and I cannot see the wisdom, or
the wit, of disturbing the self-complacency of any one, upon such an
occasion, unless the delusion is of vital importance to somebody. What,
if your neighbor prefers his Dutch domicil, with its overhanging gable, to
your classic chateau--or sees more to admire, in his broad-faced squab of
a wife, than in your faultless Helen--or vaunts the superiority of his
short-legged cob, over your famous blood horse! Let him. Such things
should be passed, with great forbearance, were it only for the innocent
amusement they afford us. So far, however, is this from the ordinary mode
of treating them, that I am compelled to believe vanity is often more apt,
than criminality, to excite our irritable principle, and stimulate the
spirit of resentment.
I have known some worthy men, generous and humane, whose very gait has
rendered them exceedingly unpopular. I once heard a pious and reverend
clergyman say, of one of his very best parishioners, but whose unfortunate
air of hauteur was rather remarkable, that, with all his excellent
qualities, "it would do the flesh good to give him a kick."
From a thousand illustrations, which are all around us, I will select one
only. The anecdote, which I am about to relate, may be told without any
apprehension of giving offence; as the parties have been dead, some thirty
years. A worthy clergyman, residing in a neighboring state, grew old; and
the parish, who entertained the most cordial respect and affection, for
this venerable soldier of the cross, resolved to give him a colleague.
After due inquiry, and a _quantum sufficit_ of preaching on probation,
they decided on giving a call to Parson Brocklebank. He was a little, red,
round man, with a spherical head, a Brougham nose, and a gait, the like of
which had never been seen, in that parish, before. It had not attracted
particular notice, until after he was settled. To be sure, an aged single
lady, of the parish, was heard to say, that she saw something of it, at
the ordination, when Parson Brocklebank stepped forward, to receive the
right hand of fellowship. Suffice it to say, for the reader's particular
edification, that it was indescribable. It became the village talk, and is
thought to have had an injurious influence, in retarding a revival, which
seemed to be commencing, just before the period of the ordination. However
lowly in spirit, the new minister may have been, all who ever beheld him
move, were satisfied, at a glance, that he had a most exalted opinion of
himself. And yet he was an excellent man.
This unfortunate trick of jerking out the hips, and those rotundities of
flesh connected therewith, however it might have originated in "curs'd
pride, that busy sin," had become, with Parson Brocklebank, an
unchangeable habit. We often see it in a slight degree, but, as it existed
in his particular case, it was a thing not known among men. I think I have
seen it among women. Dr. Johnson would have called it a fundamental
undulation, elaborated by the ostentatious workings of a pompous spirit.
Whatever it was, it was fatal to the peace and prosperity of that parish.
Every one talked of it. The young laughed at it; the old mourned over it;
the middle aged were vexed by it; boys and girls were whipped, for
imitating it; children were forbidden to look at it, for fear of their
catching it; the very dogs were said to have barked at it.
The parish began to dissolve, _sine die_. The deacons waited upon their
old clergyman, Father Paybody, and the following colloquy ensued:
"We're in a bad way, Father Paybody; and, if folks keep going off so, we
don't see how we shall be able to pay the salaries.--Dismiss me: I am of
little use now.--No, no, Father Paybody, while there's a potato in this
parish, we'll share it together. We call'd for advice. Ever since Parson
Brocklebank was settled, the parish has been going to pieces: what is the
cause of it?--The shrewd old man shook his head, and smiled.--Parson
Brocklebank is a good man, Father Paybody.--Excellent.--Sound
doctrine.--Very.--Amazing ready at short notice.--Very.--Great at clearing
a knotty passage.--Very.--We think him a very pious Christian.--Very.--In
the parochial relation he is very acceptable.--Very.--I hear he has a
winning way, and always has candy or gingerbread in his pockets, for the
children, which helps the word greatly, with the little ones.--Well,
nearly half our people are dissatisfied, and have left, or will leave
soon. What is the cause of it, Father Paybody?--I will tell you: it's
owing to no other cause under the sun, than that wriggle of Brother
Brocklebank's behind."
No. L.
I sincerely hope, that Daniel H. Pearson, now in prison, under suspicion
of having murdered his wife and twin daughters, at Wilmington, in this
Commonwealth, in the month of April last, may be proved to be an innocent
man. For, should he be convicted, he will certainly be sentenced to be
hung; and it is quite probable, that Governor Briggs, and his iron-hearted
Council may do, as they recently did, in the case of poor Washington
Goode, a most unfortunate man, who, unhappily, committed a most infernal
murder, of which, after an impartial trial, he was duly convicted. Will it
be believed, in this age of improved contrivances, moral and physical,
that the Governor and Council of our Commonwealth have actually refused,
to rush between the sentence and the execution, and save this egregious
scoundrel from the gallows! They have solemnly decided, not to interfere
with the operation of that ancient law of this Commonwealth, which
decrees, that he, who kills his fellow man, with malice prepense, shall be
hanged, by the neck, till he is dead!
It really seems to me, that the time has arrived when Massachusetts should
be governed, by some compassionate person, who will prove himself, upon
such unpleasant occasions, the murderer's friend. I am not unapprized of
the fact, that there is a strong opposition to these opinions, among the
wisest and best men in the community; and that, irrespectively of the
operation of the _lex talionis_ upon the murderer, his death is accounted
necessary, _in terrorem_, for the rest of mankind; as Cicero has
said--"_ut poena ad paucos, metus ad omnes perveniat_"--that the
punishment may reach the few, and fear the many. But Cicero was a heathen.
There are also some individuals, having very little of that contempt for
old wives' tales, which characterizes those profound thinkers, our
interesting fellow-citizens of the Liberty Party, and who still venture,
in these enlightened days, to cite the word of God--WHOSO SHEDDETH MAN'S
BLOOD, BY MAN SHALL HIS BLOOD BE SHED. In the present condition of
society, when there are so very few of us, who do not feel, that we are
wise above what is written, this precept, delivered by God Almighty, to
Noah, appears exceedingly preposterous, greatly resembling some of those
_blue laws_, which were in operation, in the olden time, in a sister
state. What was Noah to Jeremy Bentham! Although I am pained to confess
the shortcomings of Jeremy; for, though he did much to meliorate the
severity of the British penal code, he went not, by any means, to those
happy lengths, which we approve, in shielding the unfortunate murderer
from the halter.
There was a very amiable, old gentleman in England, who lived, through the
times of Charles I., both Cromwells, and Charles II. He was reputed so
wise, and learned, and just, and pious, that his judgment was highly
prized, by all men. He was esteemed the greatest lawyer and the most
upright, in all England; so much so, that, in 1671, he was created Lord
Chief Justice of the realm. I desire to reason impartially, upon this
subject, and therefore admit, that this great and good man, Sir Matthew
Hale, believed death to be a very just punishment, for certain crimes,
inferior to murder. Although Sir Matthew's crude notions are rapidly going
out of fashion, it is but fair, to transcribe his words--"When offences
grow enormous, frequent, and dangerous to a kingdom or state, destructive
or highly pernicious to civil societies, and to the great insecurity and
danger of the kingdom or its inhabitants, severe punishment and even death
itself is necessary to be annexed to laws, in many cases, by the prudence
of lawgivers." In all candor, we must admit, that Sir Matthew Hale was
notoriously the very reverse of a sanguinary Judge. But Sir Matthew's days
were the days of small things. We cannot sufficiently bless the Great
Disposer of human affairs, for raising up the foolish, as He has done, in
these latter days, and in such great numbers withal, to confound the wise.
It is now no longer necessary, as of old, to pursue a particular course of
study, to qualify mankind, for the work of legislation, or the practice of
law, or physic, or the exposition of the more subtle points of religion,
or ethics, or political economy.
This truly is an age of intuition. He, who learns, or half learns, one
profession, is, instanter, competent to perform the duties of all. It is a
heavenly stream of universal light and power, somewhat analogous to the
miraculous gift of tongues. Nothing, in this connection, is more
remarkable, than the rapid turgescence of every man's confidence, in his
own abilities, upon the slightest encouragement, from his neighbor. There
has been scarcely a blacksmith in New England, since the remarkable and
merited success of Elihu Burritt, who, if you ask his opinion of the
efficacy of pennyroyal for the stomach-ache, will not, with your
permission, of course, prescribe for any acute or chronic complaint, with
which you are afflicted. Tailors, in full measure, nine to a man, will
readily solve you a point of theology, which would have been fearfully
approached, by Tillotston or Horne. And, upon this solemn subject of
capital punishment, there is scarcely a man-midwife in the land, who is
not ready, with his instruments, to deliver the community of all their
scruples at once.
This, certainly, is a blessed condition of things, for which we cannot be
sufficiently thankful.
That we may do abundant justice to our opponents, I propose to offer, in
this place, a quotation from the Edinburgh Review, vol. 86, p. 216. The
article is entitled--"_What is to be done with our criminals?_" The
passage runs thus--"Another circumstance, which renders legislation on
this subject peculiarly difficult, is the lamentably perverted
sentimentality, which is extensively diffusing itself among the people,
and which may soon render it problematical, whether any penal code, really
calculated to answer its objects, can be devised; a sentimentality, which
weeps over the criminal, and has no tears to spare for the miseries he has
caused--which transforms the felon into an object of interest and
sympathy, and forgets the innocent sufferers from his cruelty or perfidy.
So far as pity for the criminal is consistent with a more comprehensive
compassion for those he has wronged, and is limited by the necessity of
obtaining them redress and providing for the safety of society--so far as
it prompts to a desire to see the statute-book cleared of every needless
severity, and that no punishments shall be inflicted for punishment's sake
it is laudable.
"But we must, with regret, profess our belief, that it has often far
transcended these limits; and has exhibited itself in forms and modes,
which, if permitted to dictate the tone of our criminal legislation, would
tend to the rapid increase of crime. The people in question belong to a
class, always numerous, who are led by the imagination, and not by their
reason--by emotion rather than reflection. They see the felon in chains,
and they are dissolved in commiseration; they do not stop to realize all
the miseries, which have at last made _him_ miserable--perhaps, in the
present apathy of his conscience, much less miserable than many of those
whom he has injured."
This is from an article, ably written, of some fifty-eight pages,
published in 1847. I give it a place here, lest I should be suspected of
suppressing all arguments, on the other side.
The idea of hanging a murderer, by form of law, instead of placing him for
a few years, in some _anxious seat_, the treadmill or the state prison,
where he might be converted perhaps--cutting him off, in the midst of his
days, without time allowed for repentance, is a terrible thing. I am
perfectly aware, that it will be replied--this is the very thing which he
did for his wretched victim.
We are told, that the highest penalty known to the law is demanded. _All
that a man hath will he give for his life_; and we are opposed, in our
humane endeavors, by the scriptural edict referred to already. It is
averred to be an all-important object in capital punishment, to operate
upon the fears of others, _ut metus_, as we said before, _ad omnes
perveniat_, which would be less likely to be the case, if the halter were
abolished. It is true, that, while there is life, there is hope--hope of
pardon; hope even of a natural and less horrible death; a fond, fearful
hope of cutting the keeper's throat, and escaping from thraldom! How truly
the poor murderer deserves our compassion!
What a revolting spectacle this hanging is! Here, however, I confess, the
answer is complete--nobody, but the functionaries, is suffered to see it.
It is much less of an entertainment, than it was, in the days of George
Selwyn, who was in the habit of feeing the keeper of Newgate, for due
notice of every execution, and a reservation of the best seat, nearest the
gallows. It has been said, that hanging has become more unpopular, since
it ceased to be a public amusement. It may be so--I rather doubt it.
In former times, there were very few inexpensive public amusements, in
Boston, beside the Thursday lectures; and a hanging has always been highly
attractive, in town and country. I well remember, not very many years ago,
while riding into the city, in my chaise, having been compelled to halt,
and remain at rest, for twenty minutes, in Washington, near Pleasant
Street, while the immense mass of men, women and children rushed by, on
their way to the execution of an Irishman, which took place at the
gallows, near the grave-yard, on the Neck. The prisoner was in an open
barouche, dressed in a blue coat and gilt buttons, white waistcoat, drab
breeches, and white top boots, and his hair was powdered. He was
accompanied by Mr. Larrassy, the Catholic priest, and the physician of the
prison.
During the afternoon of July 30, 1794, on the morning of which day the
great fire occurred in Boston, three pirates, brought home in irons, on
board the brig Betsey, Captain Saunders, belonging to Daniel Sargent,
were hung on the Common; and three governors, sitting in their chairs,
would not have drawn half the concourse, then and there assembled.
No. LI.
"Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward;
And the beholders of this tragic play
Untimely smothered in their dusky graves."
There were no humane and gentle spirits, in those days of old, to speak
soft words of comfort in the ears of murderers and midnight assassins.
Poor fellows! after they had let out the last drop of blood, in the hearts
of their innocent victims, and reduced wives to widowhood, and children to
orphanage--after the parricide had plunged the dagger in his father's
heart--after the husband had murdered her, whom he had sworn, under the
eye of God, to love and to cherish--after the wife, with the assistance of
her paramour, had stealthily administered the poisonous draught to her
confiding husband--they were respectively indicted--arraigned--publicly
and deliberately tried--abundantly defended--and, when duly convicted at
last, they were hanged, forsooth, by their necks, till they were dead!
Merciful God! where were the Marys and the Marthas! Was there no political
lawyer, in those days, whom the desire of personal aggrandizement could
induce to befriend the poor, afflicted cut-throat, by which parade of
philanthropy he might ride into notice, as the patriot of the
Anti-capital-punishment party! Was there no tender-hearted doctor, whose
leisure hours, neither few nor far between, might have been devoted to the
blessed work of relieving the murderer, from the gallows, and himself,
from the excruciating misery of nothing to do!
Truly we live in a tragi-comical world. During the late trial of John
Brown, the other day, for the murder of Miss Coventry, at Tolland, in
regard to which the jury could not agree, a requisition arrived from the
Governor of New York, for the prisoner, to answer, for the murder of Mrs.
Hammond.--Dr. V. P. Coolidge, who murdered Matthews, at Waterville,
committed suicide in prison, a few days since.--A precocious boy, eight
years old, has, this month, chopped off the head of his sleeping father,
with an axe, in the town of Lisle, N. Y.--Matthew Wood is to be hung in
New York, June 22, for the murder of his wife.--Alexander Jones is to be
hung, in the same State, on the same day, for arson.--Goode is to be hung
here, in a few days.--On the 27th day of the last month, a man, named
Newkirk, near Louisville, Kentucky, shot and killed his mother, near one
hundred years of age.--On the third day of the present month, Mr. Carroll,
near Philadelphia, murdered his lady, by choking and pitching her down
stairs.--J. M. Riley is to be hung, June 5, for the murder of W. Willis,
in Independence, Tennessee.--Vintner is under sentence of death, for
murdering Mrs. Cooper, in Baltimore.--Elder Enos G. Dudley is to be hung,
in New Hampshire, May 23, for the murder of his wife.--The wife of John
Freedly, of Philadelphia, is now in jail, for helping her husband, to
murder his first wife.--Pearson is now in prison, under charge of
murdering his wife and twin daughters, at Wilmington, in this
Commonwealth, in April last.--Mrs. McAndrew has been convicted of murder,
for killing her sister-in-law, in Madison, Mississippi.--Elisha N. Baldwin
is to be hung, June 5, for the murder of his brother-in-law, Victor
Matthews, at St. Louis.--The girl, Blaisdell, is to be hung, in New
Hampshire, Aug. 30, for poisoning a little boy, two and a half years old.
She was on trial for this act only. She had previously poisoned the
child's grandmother, her friend and protectress, and subsequently
attempted to poison both its parents. This "_misguided young lady_" was
engaged to be married, and wanting cash, for an outfit, had forged the
note of the child's father, for four hundred dollars.
Of Wood's case I know little more, than that he murdered his wife. Surely
he is to be pitied, poor fellow. The case of Elder Enos is deeply
interesting. This worthy Elder took his partner out, to give her a
sleigh-ride, in life and health, and brought home her lifeless body. She
had knocked her head against a tree--such, indeed, was the opinion,
expressed by Elder Enos. He was also of opinion that it was not good for
an Elder to be alone, for one minute; and he exhibited rather too much
haste, perhaps, in taking to himself another partner. The jury were
unanimously of opinion, that Elder Enos was mistaken, and that Mrs. Dudley
came to her death, by the hands of Elder Enos himself. The Elder and the
jury differed in opinion; and therefore, forsooth, Elder Enos must be
hanged by the neck till he is dead! How much better to change this
punishment, for perpetual imprisonment--and that, after a few years of
good behavior, upon a petition, subscribed by hundreds, who care not the
value of a sixpence, whether Elder Enos is in the State Prison, or out of
it, for a pardon. Then the church will again be blessed with his services,
as a ruling Elder; and the present Mrs. Dudley may herself be favored with
a sleigh-ride, at some future day.
The case of the "_misguided_" Miss Blaisdell is truly affecting. It is
quite inconceivable how the people of New Hampshire can have the heart to
hang such an interesting creature by the neck, till she is dead. I am of
opinion, that the remarks, with which Judge Eastman prefaced his sentence,
must have hurt Miss Blaisdell's feelings. It seems that she only made use
of the little innocent, as aeronauts employ a pet balloon, to try the wind.
She wished to ascertain, if her poison was first proof, before she tried
it, upon the parents. Although it had worked to perfection, upon the old
lady, Miss Blaisdell, who appears to have acted with consummate prudence,
was not quite satisfied of its efficacy, upon more vigorous constitutions.
It is quite surprising, that Judge Eastman should have talked so unkindly
to Miss Blaisdell, in open court--"_An experiment is to be made; the
efficiency of your poison is to be tried; and the helpless innocent boy is
selected. He is left in your care, with all the confidence of a mother. He
plays at your feet, he prattles at your side. You take him up, and give
him the fatal morphia; and, when you see him sicken and dizzy, and
stretching out his little arms to his mother, and trying to walk, your
heart relents not. May God soften it._" What sort of a Judge is this, to
harrow up the delicate feelings of "_a misguided young lady_" after this
fashion!
It has been proposed, by a medical gentleman, whose philanthropy has
assumed the appearance of a violent eruption, breaking out in every
direction, that, if this abominable punishment, this destruction of life,
which God Almighty has prescribed, in the case of murder, must continue to
be inflicted, the "_misguided young ladies_" and "_unfortunate men_," who
commit that crime, shall be executed under the influence of ether. This
may be considered the happiest suggestion of the age. A tract may be
expected from the pen of this gentleman, ere long, entitled "Crumbs of
comfort for Cut-throats, or Hanging made easy." Jeremy Bentham gave his
body to be dissected, for the good of mankind. Oh, that this worthy
doctor, who has struck out this happy thought of hanging, under the
influence of ether, would _verify the suggestion_!
There are some individuals, who had rather be hanged, than talked to, in
such an unfeeling manner, as Judge Eastman talked to the unfortunate and
misguided Miss Blaisdell: it has therefore been decided to improve, upon
the suggestion of hanging murderers, under the influence of ether; and we
propose to apply for an act, authorizing the sponge to be applied to the
nostrils of the condemned, by the clerk _ex officio_, during the time,
when the judge is pronouncing the sentence. The time of the murderer is
short, and there are many little comforts, and even delicacies, which
would greatly tend to soften the rigor of his imprisonment. We have it,
upon the testimony of more than one experienced keeper of Newgate, that,
with some few exceptions, the appetite of the misguided, who are about to
be hanged, is remarkably good.
I fully comprehend the objections, which will be made to the use of ether,
and granting such other little indulgences, to those, who are about to be
sentenced, or are already condemned to be hanged. The Ciceronian
argument,--_ut metus ad omnes perveniat_, will be neutralized. How many,
it will be said, are now upon the earth, without God in this world,
without the least particle of religious sensibility, disappointed men,
desperate, degraded, men of utterly broken hopes, broken hearts, and
broken fortunes, to whom nothing would be more acceptable, than an easy
transition from this wide-awake world of pain and sadness to that region
of negative happiness, which they anticipate, in their fancied state of
endless oblivion beyond. They may be, nevertheless, disturbed, in some
small degree, _in articulo_, by that indestructible doubt, which hangs
over the mind, even the mind of the most sceptical, and deepens and
darkens as death draws near,--SUPPOSE THERE SHOULD BE A GOD!--what then!
They are therefore unwilling to cut their own throats, however willing to
cut the throats of other people. But, if the State will take the
responsibility, and furnish the ether, there are not a few, who would very
complacently embrace the opportunity.
That fear, which it is desirable to keep before the eyes of all men, say
our opponents, is surely not the fear of the easiest of all imaginable
deaths--the fear of meeting, not the King of terrors, but the very thing,
which all men pray for, a placid exit from a world of care--a welcome
spirit--an _etherial_ deliverer. On the contrary, we wish, say they, to
hold up to the world the fear of a terrible, as well as a shameful death:
and we desire to give a certainty to this fear, which we cannot do, while
the frequent exercise of the power of commutation and of pardon teaches
that portion of our race, which is fatally bent upon mischief, that the
gibbet is nothing but a bugbear; and that, let them commit as many
murders, as they will, there is not one chance, in fifty, of their coming
to the gallows, at last.
It is not easy to answer this argument, upon the spur of the moment; and
it has been referred to a committee of our society, with instructions to
prepare a reply, in season for the next execution.
We have the satisfaction of knowing, that no efforts have been spared by
us, to save Washington Goode, one of the most interesting of murderers,
from the gallows. We have endeavored to get up an excitement in the
community, by posting placards, in numerous places--"A MAN TO BE HANGED!"
By this we intended to put an execution upon the footing of a puppet-show
or play, and thereby to excite the public indignation. But, most
unfortunately, there is too much common sense among the people of Boston,
and too little enthusiasm altogether, for the successful advancement of
our philanthropic views. However, importunity, if we faint not, will
certainly prevail. The right of petition is ours. Let us follow, in the
steps of Amy Darden and William Vans. The Legislature, at their last
session, indefinitely postponed the consideration of the subject of the
abolition of capital punishment. The Legislature is made of flesh and
blood, and must finally give way, as a matter of course.
It cannot be denied, that gentlemen make use, occasionally, of strange
arguments, while opposing our efforts, in favor of those _misguided_
persons, who _unfortunately_ commit rape, treason, arson, murder, &c. A
few years since, when a bill was before our House of Representatives, for
the abolition of capital punishment, in the case of rape, while it was
proposed to retain it in the case of highway robbery--"Let us go home, Mr.
Speaker," exclaimed an audacious orator, "and tell our wives and our
daughters, that we set a higher value upon our purses, than upon the
security of their persons, from brutal violation."
No. LII.
To my anonymous correspondent who inquires, through the medium of the
post-office, in what respect my "dealings with extortioners" can fairly be
entitled "_dealings with the dead_," I reply, because they are _alive_
unto sin, and _dead_ unto righteousness.
In Lord Bacon's Life of Henry VII., London edition of 1824, vol. v. 51,
the Lord Chancellor Morton says to the Parliament--"His Grace prays you to
take into consideration matters of trade, as also the manufactures of the
kingdom, and to repress the bastard and barren employment of moneys to
usury and unlawful exchanges, that they may be, as their natural use is,
turned upon commerce, and lawful, and royal trading." Henry VIII. came to
the throne, in 1509, and the rate of interest was fixed, in 1545, the 37th
of that king's reign; and that rate was ten per cent. per annum. Before
that time, no Christian was allowed to take interest for money; and the
Jews had the matter of usury, all to themselves. It was shown, before
Parliament, that, in 1260, two shillings was the rate, demanded and given,
for the loan of twenty shillings for one week; and Stowe states, that the
people were so highly excited against the Jews, on account of their
extortion, as to massacre seven hundred of them, in London, in 1262. In
1274, a law was passed, compelling every Jew, lending money on interest,
to wear a plate on his breast, signifying, that he was an usurer, or to
quit the realm. What an exhibition we should have, in State Street, and
the alleys, if this edict should be revived, against those, whose
uncircumcision would avail them nothing, to disprove their Levitical
propinquity.
In 1277, two hundred and sixty-seven Jews were hung, in London, for
clipping the coin. Their usurious practices, at last, so highly
exasperated the nation, that, according to Rapin, Lond., 1757, vol. iii.
246, 15,000 were banished the realm, in 1290. They had obtained great
privileges from King Edward; but, says Rapin, "lost all these advantages,
by not curbing their insatiable greediness of enriching themselves, by
unlawful means, as usury, &c." I find Sir Edward Coke denies the fact of
their banishment. His version is this: "They were not banished, but their
usury was banished, by the statute, enacted in this parliament, and that
was the cause they banished themselves into foreign countries, where they
might live by their usury; and because they were odious to the nation,
that they might pass out of the realm in safety, they made a petition to
the king, that a certain day might be prefixed for them to depart the
realm, that they might have the king's writ to his sheriffs, for their
safe conduct." 2d Institute, 507. Hume, nevertheless, Oxford ed., ii. 210,
reaffirms the statement of Rapin.
Hume says, ibid., the practice of usury was afterwards carried on, "by the
English themselves upon their fellow-citizens, or by the Lombards and
other foreigners;" and he adds--"It is very much to be questioned, whether
the dealings of these new usurers were equally open and unexceptionable
with the old." Perhaps it may be questioned, whether the community would
not fare better, at the present day, if some of the circumcised could be
imported hither, from the Jews' Quarter, in Istampol. The following remark
of Hume, on the same page, is of importance to the political
economist:--"But as the canon law, seconded by the municipal, permitted no
Christian to take interest, all transactions of this kind must, after the
banishment of the Jews, have become more secret and clandestine, and the
lender, of consequence, be paid both for the use of his money, _and for
the infamy and danger, which he incurred by lending it_." This is not from
Aristotle, nor one of the school divines, but from David Hume, whose
liberality is sufficiently notorious.
The English usurers, in those days, were more excusable, because they were
not permitted to take _any interest whatever_, for the loan of money,
while money lenders here have not the same excuse for being usurers, as
they may lawfully take six per cent. per annum, or one per cent. above the
legal rate of Great Britain, as established in 1714, the 13th of Queen
Anne, and which has remained unaltered, to the present day.
I have heard of a fellow, who, upon being asked, after conviction of
larceny, if he did not regret his conduct, replied, with an air of great
sincerity, that he certainly did--for, instead of stealing a few pieces of
gold, as he had done, he might easily have stolen enough, to bribe the
court and jury. The Jews were wiser in their day and generation--they
never suffered themselves to be placed in a predicament, which might cause
them to suffer from any such regret. For many years, there subsisted a
delightful understanding, between them and Edward I. Longshanks.
Longshanks granted them many and various indulgencies; by his permission,
they even had a synagogue in London. On their part, they were willing to
relieve the necessities of Longshanks. In short, Longshanks was,
vicariously, and upon the principle, that _qui facit per alium facit per
se_, the very Apollyon of all usurers. He countenanced the extortion of
the Jews, and shared the spoils. Sir Edward Coke, in his Second Institute,
506, states that, in seven years, covering portions of the reigns of Henry
III. and Edward I., the Crown had four hundred and twenty thousand pounds,
fifteen shillings, and four pence from the Jews.
After treating of the advantages and disadvantages of taking interest, on
money loans, and arriving at the sensible conclusion, that it is
impossible for society to get along without them, Lord Bacon remarks, ii.
354--"Let usury (the term for interest in those days) in general be
reduced to five in the hundred, and let the rate be proclaimed to be free
and current: and let the State shut itself out to take any penalty for the
same. This will preserve borrowing from any stop or dryness. This will
ease infinite borrowers in the country, &c." Lord Bacon was therefore in
favor of an universal rate of interest, established by law. Of usury, in
the opprobrious sense of the word, the taking of excessive and unlawful
interest, this great man speaks in his tract on Riches, ii. 340, in no
very complimentary terms--"Usury is the certainest means of gain, though
one of the worst, as that whereby a man doth eat his bread, in _sudore
vultus alieni_," by the sweat of another's brow.
I have heard it said of a rural governor of Massachusetts, now sleeping
with his fathers, that, although addicted to the practice of virtual
usury, he scrupulously abstained from lending money, at any rate, beyond
six per cent. It became a by-word, in his district, however, when a farmer
became straitened for a little money, and was inquiring among his
neighbors--_that it was quite likely his excellency might have a yoke of
cattle, that he did not care to winter over_! The cattle were sold at a
high price to the needy man, who sold them forthwith, at auction, or
otherwise, for a small one, giving the worthy governor his note in
payment, and a mortgage on his farm, if required. The note was payable in
six months, or a year, with "lawful interest."
This moral manoeuvre appears to have been of ancient origin. There is the
draught of a law for the punishment of it, in Lord Bacon's works, iv. 285.
The preamble runs thus--"Whereas it is an usual practice, to the undoing
and overthrowing of many young gentlemen and others, that where men are in
necessity, and desire to borrow money, they are answered, that money
cannot be had, but that they may have commodities sold unto them, upon
credit, whereof they may make money, as they can: in which course it ever
comes to pass, not only that such commodities are bought at extreme high
rates, and sold again far under foot, at a double loss; but also that the
party which is to borrow, is wrapt in bonds and counter bonds; so that
upon a little money, which he receiveth, he is subject to penalties and
suits of great value." Then follows the statute, taking away legal remedy,
and punishing the broker or procurer with six months' imprisonment, and
the pillory.
It has been commonly understood, that, before the act of 37th Henry VIII.,
though Christians were forbidden to take any interest for money, the Jews
were not restrained; yet Lord Chief Baron Hale, Hard. 420, says that
Jewish usury was forbidden, at common law, being forty per cent. and
upwards, per annum, but no other. Lea, C. J., Palm. 292, says, that the
usury, condemned at common law, was the "_biting usury_" of the Jews. To
comprehend this expression, it must be understood, that, among the Jews,
of old, there were two Hebrew words, signifying _usury_, _terebit_, which
meant simply _increase_, and _Neshec_, which meant _devouring_ or _biting
usury_. Of this distinction, an account may be found in Calmet, vol. iii.
Fragment 46.
When the statute of James I. was passed, in 1623, reducing the rate from
ten to eight per cent., Orde says, in his Law of Usury, p. 5, that the
Bishops "would not, at first, agree to it, for the sole reason, that there
was no clause that disgraced usury, as in former statutes; and then the
clause at the end of that statute was added, for their satisfaction."
Usury was punished more severely in France, than in England. For the first
offence, the usurer "was punished by a public and ignominious
acknowledgment of his offence, and was banished. His second offence was
capital, and he was hanged." Coke's 3d Institute, 152.
No. LIII.
Our society, whose object is nothing less than the entire and unqualified
abolition of capital punishment, have derived the greatest advantage, from
an ample recognition of the rights of women--not only by a free
participation of counsel with the softer sex, after the example of certain
other societies, the value of whose services can never be understood, by
the present generation; but by assigning equally to both sexes, all
offices of honor and trust. We have adhered to this principle, with the
most perfect impartiality, in the composition of our committees. Thus, our
committee, for visiting the condemned, consists of the Rev. Mr. Puzzlepot,
and the five Miss Frizzles--the committee on public excitement, prior to
an execution, consists of Dr. Omnibus, Squire Farrago, Mrs. Pickett, and
her daughters, the Misses Patience and Hopestill Pickett. In like
proportion, all our committees are constructed.
We think proper, in this public manner, to express our warmest
acknowledgments to Mrs. Negoose, Madam Moody, and Squire Bodkin, for their
able report, on the iniquity of presumptive or circumstantial evidence.
The notes, appended to this report, are invaluable--their authorship
cannot be mistaken--every individual, acquainted with the peculiar style
of the gifted author, will recognize the powerful hand of the justly
celebrated Mrs. Folsom.
This committee are of opinion, that, under the show or pretence of
punishing murder, our legal tribunals are constantly committing it. They
_presume_, forsooth, that is, they guess, that the prisoner is guilty, and
therefore take the awful responsibility of hanging him by the neck, till
he is dead! This, says Mrs. Negoose, is _presumption_ with a vengeance.
The committee refer to the statement of Sir Matthew Hale, as cited by
Blackstone, iv. 358-9, that he had known two cases, in which, after the
accused had been hung for murder, the individuals, supposed to have been
murdered, had re-appeared, in full life. Upon this, the committee reason,
with irresistible force and acumen. How many judges, say they, there have
been, since the world began, we know not. _Two cases_, in which innocent
persons were executed, on presumptive or circumstantial evidence, are
proved to have occurred, within the knowledge of _one judge_. It is
reasonable, say the committee, to conclude that, at a moderate
calculation, _three cases_ more, remaining undiscovered, occurred within
the jurisdiction of that _one judge_. Now, we have nothing to do, but to
ascertain the number of judges, who have ever existed, and then multiply
that number by _five_; and thus, say the committee, "by the unerring force
of figures, which cannot lie, we have the sanguinary result." "Talk not of
ermine," exclaims Mrs. Negoose, the chairwoman of the committee, in a gush
of scorching eloquence, "these blood-stained judges, gory with the blood
of the innocents, let them be stripped of their ermine, and robed with the
skins of wild cats and hyenas."
It has excited the highest indignation in the society, that Sir Matthew
Hale, who has ever borne the name of a humane and upright judge, should
have continued to decide questions, involving life, upon circumstantial
evidence, after the cases, referred to above, had come to his knowledge,
and in the very same manner, that he had been accustomed to decide them,
in earlier times. Mrs. Moody openly expresses her opinion, that he was no
better than he should be; and Squire Bodkin only wishes, that he could
have had half an hour's conversation with Sir Matthew. The only effect,
produced upon the mind of Sir Matthew Hale, by these painful discoveries,
seems to have been to call forth an expression of opinion, that
circumstantial evidence should be received with caution; and that, in
trials for murder and manslaughter, no person should ever be convicted,
till the body of the individual, alleged to have been killed, had been
discovered.
An opinion, often repeated, as having been expressed by Chief Justice
Dana, after the conviction of Fairbanks, for the murder of Miss Fales, at
Dedham, in 1801, has frequently been a topic of conversation, among the
members of our society, and Mrs. Negoose is satisfied, that if Chief
Justice Dana expressed any such opinion, he must have been out of his
head. Fairbanks was convicted and hung, on circumstantial evidence
entirely. The concatenation, or linking together, of circumstances, in
that remarkable case, was very extraordinary.
The sympathy for Fairbanks was very great, and began to exhibit itself,
almost as soon, as the spirit had fled from the body of his victim. After
his condemnation, his zealous admirers, for such they seemed to be,
assisted him successfully, to break jail. He was retaken, on the borders
of Lake Champlain; and, as the jail in Boston was of better proof, than
the jail in Dedham, he was committed to the former. The genealogy of
Fairbanks was shrouded in a sort of mystery. Ladies, of respectable
standing, visited him, in his cell, and one, in particular, of some
literary celebrity, in our days of small things, was supposed to have
supplied him with a knife, of rather expensive workmanship, for the
purpose of self-destruction. This knife was found upon his person, after
her visits. There was no positive proof, to establish the guilt of Jason
Fairbanks--not a tittle. Yet a merciless jury found him guilty, by a
process, which our society considers mere _guess work_,--and after the
execution, Judge Dana is reported to have said, that he believed Fairbanks
murdered Miss Fales, more certainly, from the circumstantial evidence,
produced at the trial, than if he had had the testimony of his own
eyesight, at a short distance, in a dusky day. What sort of a Judge is
this? cried Mrs. Negoose--sure enough, exclaimed Madam Moody.
I have no objection to give our opponents all the advantage, which they
can possibly derive from a full and fair exposition of their arguments.
When a witness, for example, swears, directly and unhesitatingly, that he
saw the prisoner inflict a wound, with a deadly weapon, upon another
person--that he saw that other person instantly fall, and die shortly
after, this is _positive evidence of something_. Yet the act may be
murder, or it may be manslaughter, or it may be justifiable homicide.
Murder consists of three parts, the malice prepense, the blow inflicted or
means employed, and the death ensuing, within a time prescribed by law.
There can be no _murder_, if either of these parts be absent. Now, it is
contended, by such as deem it lawful and right to hang the unfortunate,
misguided, upon circumstantial evidence, that, however _positive_ the
evidence may be, upon the two latter points--the act done and the death
ensuing--it is necessary, from the nature of things, in every case to
depend on _circumstantial_ evidence, to prove the malice prepense.
One or more of the senses enable the witness to swear positively to either
of the two latter points. But the malice prepense must be _inferred_, from
words, deeds, and _circumstances_. Upon this Dr. Omnibus sensibly
observes, that this very fact proves the impropriety of hanging upon all
occasions: and Mrs. Negoose remarks, that she is of the same opinion, on
the authority of that ancient dictum, the authorship of which seems to be
equally ascribed to Solomon and Sancho Panza--that "_circumstances_ alter
cases."
It is really surprising, that so grave and sensible a man, as Mr. Simon
Greenleaf, should have made the remark, which appears on page 74, vol. i.,
of his Treatise on Evidence,--"_In both cases_ (civil and criminal) _a
verdict may well be founded on circumstances alone; and these often lead
to a conclusion far more satisfactory than direct evidence may produce_."
Mr. Greenleaf refers, for illustration of this opinion, to the case of
Bodine, N. Y. Legal Observer, vol. iv. p. 89, et seq. Lawyer Bodkin's work
on evidence will, doubtless, correct this error.
Let us reason impartially. Compunction, in a dying hour, we cannot deny
it, has established the fact, that innocent persons have been hung, now
and then, upon _positive_ evidence, the false witness confessing himself
the murderer, _in articulo mortis_. Well, says Madam Moody, here is fresh
proof of the great sinfulness of hanging.--To be sure.--But let our
opponents have fair play. A. is found dead, evidently stabbed.--B. is
seized upon suspicion.--C. heard B. declare he would have the heart's
blood of A.--D. saw B. with a knife in his hand, ten minutes before the
murder.--E. finds a knife bloody, near the place of the murder.--F.
recognizes the knife as his own, and by him lent to B. just before the
time of the murder.--G. says the size of the wound is precisely the size
of the knife.--H. says, that, when he arrested B. his hand and
shirt-sleeve were bloody.--I. says he heard B. say, just after the murder,
"I've got my revenge." In the case supposed, C. D. E. F. G. H. and I.
swear _positively_, each one to a particular fact. Here are seven
witnesses. Here then is a chain of evidence, whereof each witness
furnishes a single link. It is the opinion of Peake, Chitty, Starkie,
Greenleaf, and all other writers, on the law of evidence, that this chain
is often as strong or stronger, than it would be, were it fabricated by
one man only. I will not deny, that Dr. Omnibus and Mrs. Negoose think
differently.
An extraordinary example of circumstantial evidence, in a capital case,
was related by Lord Eldon. A man was on trial for murder. The evidence
against him, which was wholly circumstantial, was so very insufficient,
that the prisoner, confident of acquittal, assumed an air of easy
nonchalance. The officer, who had arrested the prisoner, and conducted the
customary search, had exhibited, in court, the articles, found upon his
person, at the time of his capture--a few articles of little value, and,
among them, a fragment of a newspaper. The surgeon, who examined the body
of the victim after death, produced the ball, which he had extracted from
the wound, precisely as he found it. Enveloped in a wrapper of some sort,
and with the blood dried upon it, it presented an almost unintelligible
mass.
A basin of warm water was brought into court--the mass was softened--the
wrapper carefully detached--it was the fragment of a newspaper, and fitted
like the counterpart of an indenture to the fragment, taken by the officer
from the prisoner's person. He was hung. Dear me! says Mrs. Negoose, what
a pity!
I regret to learn from the late London papers, that Mr. Horace Twiss is
recently dead. No one, I am confident, will fail to join in this feeling
of regret, who has enjoyed, as I have done, the perusal of his truly
delightful work, "The Public and Private Life of Lord Chancellor Eldon."
No. LIV.
A pleasant anecdote is related by Nichols, of Dean Swift, who, when his
servant apologized for not cleaning his boots, on a journey, because they
would soon be dirty again, directed him to get the horses in readiness
immediately: and, upon the fellow's remonstrance, that he had not eaten
his breakfast, replied, that it was of little consequence, as he would
soon be hungry again.
The American Irish are, undoubtedly, a very sweet people, when they are
thoroughly washed; but they rarely think of washing themselves or their
children--they are so soon dirty again. Hydrophobia is an Irish epidemic;
and there are also some of the Native American Party, I fear, who have not
been into water, since the Declaration of Independence.
When Peter Fagan applied to me, a few days since, to read for him a
letter, from his cousin, Eyley Murphy, of Ballyconnel, in the county of
Cavan, he was so insufferably filthy, that I gave him a quarter of a
dollar, to be spent in sacrificing to the graces, that is, in taking a
warm bath. While he was absent, I examined the letter; and found it to be
a very interesting account of the execution of Fagan's fourth cousin,
Rory Mullowny, for murder. As I thought its publication might be of
importance here, at this time, I obtained Mr. Fagan's permission to place
it before the community. I was, at first, disposed to correct the
spelling, and give it rather more of an English complexion, but have, upon
the whole, decided to publish it, as it is. Fagan tells me, that Eyley
Murphy was the daughter of the hedge school-master, at Ballyconnel. The
letter is written in a fair hand, and directed, "For Misther Pether Fagan,
these--Boston, Capital of Amerriky."
Ballyconnel, Cavan, March 19, 1849.--Fagan dear, bad news and thrue for ye
it is; Rory Mullowny, your own blood cousin o' the forth remove, by the
mither's side, was pit up yestreen for the murther o' Tooley O'Shane, and
there was niver a felly o' all that's been hung in Ballyconnel, with sich
respictable attindance. The widdy Magee pit the divle into both the poor
fellies, no more nor a waak arter the birril o' her forth husband, and so
she kipt a flarting wid the one and the tither, till she flarted um out o'
the warld this away.
Poor Rory--what a swaat boy he was--jist sax foot and fore inches in his
brogans--och, my God! it's myself that wush'd I'd bin pit up along wid im.
But he's claan gane now; whin we was childer togither how we used to
gather the pirriwincles by the brook, and chase the fire-flaughts in the
pasture o' a June evening--och my God--Pether--Pether--but there's no use
waaping anyhow, so I'll be telling ye the shtory.
Poor Mullowny was found guilty o' what they call sircumstanshul ividunce.
A spaach it was he made whin the cussid sherry was pittin im up, and he
swore he died more innisent o' the crime nor the mither o' God, and he
called God to witness what he sed. Himself it was that was rather hasty
onyhow, in makin a confission to father Brian Bogle o' this very murther,
and some other small mathers, a rape or too, may be, and sich like.
But the socyety that's agin pittin a body up--God bliss their sowls--they
perswaded im to spaak at the gallows, and till the paaple how it was, and
they rit im a spaach, in wich he toult 'em a body's last wull was the only
wull that was gud in the law, and sure it was a poor body's last words and
dyin spaach that was gud anunder the tree. And whin he had dun, the cursed
divelsbird o' a sherry, wid a hart as coult as bog mud, swung im off in a
minnit. It was himsilf was spaakin; and I jist pit my apurn to my face to
wipe aff the saut wather, whin I heerd a shreek and a howl, louder and
wilder nor ten thousand keenas at a birril, whin I lookd up and saw poor,
daar Mullowny a swingin in the air. The like o' that yersilf niver saad,
Pether Fagan, nor the mither that brot ye into this world o' care and
confushon. The wimmin scraamed loud enuff to friten the little childer
claan away in Ballymahon. The min swung their shillalies owr their heds.
Father Brian Bogle was crossing himself, and a stone hurld by Jimmy
Fitzgerald at the infarnal sherry, knocked father Bogle's taath down his
throte. By the same token ye see, they was pit in for im the dee afore at
considerable cost. Father Brian fell back, head foremost, ye see, on top
o' Molly Mahoney's little bit table o' refrishments, and twas the wark o'
a minnit.
Molly, who jist afore was wall to do in the warld, was a brukken marchant,
immadiately, all claan gane; tumblers o' whiskey, cakes, custards, and
cookies was all knocked in the shape o' bit o'chalk; and all the pennies
she had took since bick o'dee--for more nor ten thousan was on the spot to
see poor Rory pit up afore dee--was scattered and clutched up, by hunders
o' little childher that was playing prop and chuck farding anunder the
gallus. A jug o' buthermilk was capsized ower the widdy Magee's bran new
dress, that was made for the hanging precesely, and ruinated it pretty
considerably intirely. It was not myself that pittied the hussy--she to be
there, as naar to the gallus as she could squaze hersel, and the very
cause o' the dith o' poor Rory, and Tooley O'Shane into the bargin.
Och, Fagan, niver ye see was the likes o' it in Ballyconnel afore. Whin
the sherry was for cuttin the alter and littin the corps o' poor, daar
Mullowny down into the shell, that was all riddy below, the Mullownys
swore they would have the body, for a riglar birrill, and a wake, and a
keena, ye see--and the O'Shanes swore it should go to the risirictioners,
to be made into a menotomy. Then for it, it was--sich a cursin and swaring
and howling--sich a swingin o' shillalies, sich a crackin o' pates, sich
callin upon Jasus and the blissid mither, sich a scramin o' wimmin and
childer, niver was herd afore in county Cavan. The sherry he gat on Molly
Mahoney's little table to read the ryot act, and whin he opunt his mouth
Phelim Macfarland flung a rottun egg atwaan his taath preceesly, and brot
im to a spaady conclushon.
Poor Rory's vinrable oult mither was carried aff and murthered in the side
o' the hid, wid a stone mint for the sherry, o' which she recovered
diricly. They tried to kaap her quiet in her shanty, but she took on so
gravous, that they let her attind the pittin up--poor ould sowl--she sed
she had attinded the last moments o' her good man, and both her childer,
Patrick and Pether, whin they wur pit up the same way, and it was not the
like o' her to hart poor daar Rory's faalings onyhow.
Dolly Macabe was saved by a myrrikle, ye see. She took out wid her her
siven childer, leading little Phelim by the hand, wid her babe at the
brist, and hersilf in a familiar way into the bargin. She was knocked ower
and trampled under the faat o' the fellies as was yellin and fitin, and
stunted out o' her raason intirely. Only jist think o' it, Fagan daar,
when she kim too, not one o' the childher was hart in the laast, nor Dolly
naather; and the first thing she asked wos, whose was the two swaat babes,
lyin together, and they toult her they war her own. Ye see, Patrick
O'Shane and some more trod upon Dolly Macabe and hastened matters a
leetle, and she was delivered o' twins, widout knowin anything about it.
They gied her a glass o' whiskey, and O'Flaherty, the baker, pit the swaat
babes in his brid cart, and Dolly, who priffird walking, wint home as well
as could be expected. All the Macabes have ixcillint constitushons, and
make no moor o' sich thrifles, than nothing at all.
But its for tellin the petiklars I'm writin. As I toult ye, twas about the
widdy Magee. Rory toult more nor fifty, for a waak afore, that he'd have
Tooley's hart's blood. When Tooley was found, it was ston ded he was, and
his hed was bate all to paces, and Rory was o' tap o' im houltin im by the
throte, wid a shillaly nigh by, covered wid blud, and the blood was rinnin
out o' his eyes, and nose, and aars. Lawyer McGammon definded Rory, the
poor unfortunit crathur, and he frankly admitted, that it was onlocky for
him to be found jist that away, but he toult the jewry, that as he hoped
for salvashun, Rory was an innysunt man, and he belaaved the foreman as
guilty nor he. He brot half Ballyconnel to prove that Tooley was liable to
blaad fraly at the nose, and was apt to have a rush o' blood to the hed,
and he compared Rory to the good Summeritan, and sed he was there by the
marest axidunt in the warld, and was tryin to stop the flow o' blud by
houltin Tooley by the throte.
As to the bloody shillaly, McGammon brot more nor twenty witnesses, and
ivery one a Mullowny, to sware it was more like Tooley's own shillaly nor
two paas in a pud; and then he had three lunatic doctors, they call'd em,
to prove that the O'Shane's were o' the silf-distructive persuashun. As to
what Rory had sed about havin Tooley's hart's blud, lawyer McGammon provd
that it was a common mode o' spakin in Ballyconnel and all owr the
contree, among frinds and neybors, and thin he hinted, in a dillikit wey,
that all the Mullownys wuld be after sayin that virry same thing o' the
jewry, if thay brot Rory to the gallus by thair vardic, and that he was
guilty o' nothin but circumstanshul ividunce. But the jewry brot in the
poor felly guilty o' murther, and its all owr wid poor Rory.
It's no more I can rite--Your sister Betty Macnamarra has nine fine boys,
at thraa births it is. From yours ever till the dee,