Saturday Evening, November 24, 1894.—A week ago to-day I was placed
under arrest in Boston, and after a preliminary hearing was brought
here to Philadelphia, where I was confined at City Hall police
headquarters. Yester-*day P. M. I was placed in a crowded conveyance
filled with a filthy lot of humanity, and after what seemed to me an
endless drive reached the county prison, located at Tenth and Reed
streets, which is known as Moyamensing. I was assigned to a thoroughly
clean, whitewashed room, about 9 x 14 feet in size, lighted by one very
narrow grated window. The entrance to the room is closed by a small
latticed iron door, beyond which is still another solid door of wood,
which, when closed, excludes nearly all sound, and thus renders the
room practically a place of solitary confinement. A register furnishes
furnace heat, and one sixteen candle power electric burner gives light
during a part of the evening, it being turned off promptly at 9 P. M.
The superintendent of the prison came to my door for a few moments this
morning, and spoke to me of some of the prison rules and regulations.
My attorney, Mr. Shoemaker, also called on me, also assured me that
my wife should see me on Monday, and that she was no longer seriously
ill, to hear which makes my heavy load seem lighter. I have now had
three meals served to me since coming here, and can judge something of
what my food will be if I have to stay here any length of time. For
breakfast a plentiful supply of plain coffee and a quantity of coarse
white bread; at the noon hour a small pail well filled with soup,
thickened with barley and a few beans, and containing a large piece
of beef; at 5 P. M. I was agreeably surprised at receiving a liberal
quantity of cocoa, made, I judge, from cocoa shells—a most healthful
drink for one in such close confinement. This was accompanied by
another piece of bread, which completed the day’s rations. One thing
is certain, even if not a great variety, the quantity is sufficient,
and is cleanly cooked and served.
Sunday, November 25, 1894.—A long, still day, doubly hard to bear,
inasmuch as since my marriage it has, owing to our long talks, reading
and driving, grown to be a day of delight to me. At 3 P. M. the outer
door to my room was opened about four inches in order to admit the
sound of the religious services held at that hour and lasting until 4
o’clock, which consists principally of singing, some of which is quite
good.
November 26, 1894.—My wife came to see me at 9.30 this morning. I had
not been allowed to see her since my arrival in Philadelphia, and
it required all the courage I could command to go to her under such
humiliating circumstances. Our meeting took place in the presence of
one of the prison officials. She has suffered, and though she tried
heroically to keep me from seeing it, it was of no avail; and in a few
minutes to again bid her good-bye and know she was going out into the
world with so heavy a load to bear, caused me more suffering than any
death struggles can ever do. Each day until I know she is safe from
harm and annoyance will be a living death to me. I am promised that
for the present she shall visit me two times a week, each week, not to
exceed fifteen minutes in duration. If she can bear the humiliation of
coming here it will be a Godsend to me, but I shall not urge her to do
so against her will.
Tuesday, November 27, 1894.—My attorney called to see me to-day. He
only is allowed to visit my room and converse with me alone. Our time
was principally occupied in planning to furnish bail for Mrs. Pitezel,
who must be set at liberty at all hazards. I am threatened with arrest
upon the charge of murder, if I give bail myself, which is only another
form of saying that I must stay here until it is their pleasure to
call my case for trial; for if charged with murder, bail would not be
accepted. Had letters sent to Miss Williams. The other two children
are here in Philadelphia, and I am assured are well cared for. Was
agreeably surprised to-day to find that unsentenced prisoners are
allowed to receive eatables, at their own expense, from outside the
prison, and I shall make arrangements to have this brought about. I
also can have all newspapers and periodicals I wish. Money here in the
prison, aside from these uses, is absolutely without value.
November 30, 1894.—My wife came, looking brighter and stronger. This
time a seat was given her outside my door, though a keeper was present
during the entire interview. I can see only too plainly what an effort
it is for her to come into this terrible place, for she sees more of
the prison in passing in and out than I do myself, and to one of her
sensitive nature it is a most trying experience. Was instructed to-day
that, after I have completed several important business letters I am
writing, I must restrict all of my correspondence to one letter a week.
All mail is inspected in the prison office. I think my weight is twenty
pounds less than at time of my arrest; but I am getting more used to my
unnatural surroundings and to my bed of straw, and am sleeping better.
The great humiliation of feeling that I am a prisoner is killing me far
more than any other discomforts I have to endure. I notice quite a
difference, however, between my wooden stool and a comfortable office
or rocking-chair, but still feel that I have much to be thankful for,
as thus far I have been allowed to wear my own clothing and to keep my
watch and other small belongings. The escape from wearing the convict
garb I greatly appreciate.
December 3, 1894.—I have commenced to write a careful and truthful
account of all matters pertaining to my case, including the fact that
Pitezel is dead and that the children are with Miss Williams, and as
soon as I have completed it I shall ask my attorney to place it in the
hands of the authorities that they may verify what I have written.
I feel that I could very easily have carried out the statements I made
relative to his being alive and the substitution of a body if there was
anything to be gained by it, but Mrs. Pitezel, at all events, should
know of it before the children return, lest the question arise as to
where he was, and give occasion for the prosecution to feel that other
motives than this had caused me to conceal the true state of affairs.
December 25, 1894—Christmas. I shall receive no presents, and caused
only a few flowers to be sent to ——, as I feel that any reminder of a
year ago to-day would make it harder for her to bear. Nor will I trust
myself to write at length to-night. I did not have a dinner sent in
to-day. To-morrow will also be another sad anniversary, and a day hard
to bear.
January 1, 1895.—The New Year. I have been busy nearly all day in
prison formulating a methodical plan for my daily life while in prison,
to which I shall hereafter rigidly adhere, for the terrible solitude of
these dark winter days will otherwise soon break me down. I shall rise
at 6.30, and after taking my usual sponge bath shall clean my room and
arrange it for the day. My meal hours shall be 7.30 A. M., 12, and 5
and 9 P. M. I shall eat no more meat of any kind while I am so closely
confined. Until 10 A. M. all the time not otherwise disposed of shall
be devoted to exercise and reading the morning papers. From 10 to 12
and 2 to 4, six days in the week, I shall confine myself to my old
medical works and other college studies, including stenography, French
and German, the balance of my day shall be taken up with reading the
periodicals and library books with which —— keeps me well supplied. I
shall retire at 9 P. M. and shall as soon as possible force myself into
the habit of sleeping throughout the entire night. Received a most kind
and tender letter from my wife, filled with encouraging words. But each
day seems to make it harder to bear.
January 9th.—We have abandoned for the time being all hopes
of procuring Mrs. Pitezel her liberty. The insurance company,
misconstruing our motives, are determined to keep her under their
control. Efforts are being made to keep me from making satisfactory
settlements of my business matters, as well as trying to induce my wife
to abandon me. Came across these two lines in my reading to-day:—
“I only know the sky has lost its blue,
The days are weary and the night is drear.”
They so thoroughly described my own condition that I cannot refrain
from copying them to-night.
January 25th.—Had a long, quiet talk with my wife at City Hall to-day,
where I had been taken to be interviewed by the authorities. I feel
better and stronger to-night than for many days. Caused advertisement
to be sent to Miss Williams, and also sent out a large number of
business letters, there being no restriction against doing so while
there.
In February Mr. Shoemaker started West and South to settle up my
business matters for me; I expect him to be absent fully two weeks.
Owing to the interference of the insurance company, property that I
would have refused $50,000 for three months ago, some of which I would
not have sold at all, will have to be sacrificed, so that not more than
one-half that sum will be realized for it.
March 1st.—Commenced to-day to arrange for my trial. Mr. S. P. Rotan is
to act with Mr. Shoemaker as associate counsel. Thus far I have devoted
but little time to this work, but shall now give my 10 to 12 study hour
to it each day.
March 11th.—Read Trilby, and was much pleased with parts of it. My wife
also brought me some very nice flowers, speaking so strongly to me of
our former life that I have had to put them from my sight.
March 23d.—The days are fast lengthening; the sun shone into my room
for a few minutes to-day for the first time since I came here.
May 16th.—My birthday. Am 34 years old. I wonder if, as in former
years, mother will write me. Was at the City Hall and pleaded with the
Assistant District Attorney again that my present case be abandoned and
that I be at once tried upon the charge of killing Pitezel, as I feel
that I cannot too soon have this matter settled, inasmuch as they so
boldly accuse me of it. This they flatly refused to do, saying I only
wished to avoid serving a sentence upon the minor charge. Then the only
satisfaction I could obtain when I urged that the conspiracy charge be
tried at once in order that Mrs. Pitezel may be set at liberty was,
“Don’t you worry yourself about Mrs. Pitezel; we will care for her and
will also give you all you want to do before we are through with you.”
Have retained Mr. R. O. Moon as special counsel.
May 21st.—My case was called in Court to-day, and I entered a formal
plea of “not guilty.” The trial was postponed until a later date. On
Monday, May 27th, my case was called for trial. I went to the City
Hall, where the Court was held, in the same kind of conveyance that
had brought me here over six months before, and was conducted by two
officers into the Court room, and placed in a small enclosure in the
centre of the room. After a little delay, the Court was called to
order, Judge Hare presiding. Little time was lost in securing a jury,
as those first called, almost without exception, appeared to be both
intelligent and honest. After administering the oaths, the District
Attorney arose and addressed the Court. Theretofore I had not looked
upon my case as serious, for after I had placed before the authorities
my written statement, some months earlier, stating that Pitezel was
actually dead, some of the prosecution and the insurance company had
openly stated that they believed it to be true, and knowing myself
that his death had actually occurred, it left little, save the charge
of conspiracy, to be disposed of; but when the prosecution drew into
the case matters altogether foreign to the conspiracy charges, I felt
that it could not help but influence the jury. The authorities had
also brought Mrs. Pitezel into Court, and had seated her in a prominent
portion of the room, and later, while giving his testimony, one of
the witnesses led the Court to understand that with a knife I had
proceeded, in a cold-blooded manner, to mutilate the body of Pitezel at
the time of examination for the purpose of identification. I saw that
the prosecution were determined to magnify and dilate each point that
could be turned in their favor.
During the afternoon session I learned that a subpœna had been
issued requiring my wife to appear in Court, contrary to a distinct
arrangement that I had previously made with the insurance company that
she should not be used as a witness or annoyed in regard to the case,
and I felt that I would rather serve a longer term of imprisonment than
thus humiliate her. At the close of the Court for the day I learned
that the prosecution were prepared to place upon the witness stand
the doctors before referred to, who had seen the body at Callowhill
street, both of whom would swear the body found there could not have
been Pitezel, a matter I could not disprove, and that evening, after
considering all the proceedings of the day, I resolved to ask my
counsel to allow me to change my plea, relying upon them to show the
Court when I should, at a later date, be brought before the Judge to
be sentenced, that while there had existed an agreement to perpetrate
a fraud under certain circumstances, there was no active conspiracy at
the time when Pitezel’s death had occurred, and that the death being
genuine, the insurance company had not been defrauded. This, together
with the fact that I should save at least a week’s valuable time to
the Court by ending my trial as I did, I hoped would cause the Judge
to reduce my sentence to one-half the fullest extent, thus allowing me
to go to Texas in October, 1895, which would be in season to attend
to my business matters there before they would seriously suffer from
the delay. Before leaving the Court the Judge stated that I should be
allowed the six months I had already been in prison, which I could not
but appreciate, as it was wholly discretionary with him. Later during
the day I was called before the District Attorney, in his private
office, and there made a statement as to the probable whereabouts of
the children, telling them as truthfully as I knew all the facts I
could think of that would aid them in the search, and later gave them
the cipher I had formerly used in communicating with Miss Williams. I
then returned to my prison room at Moyamensing.
Upon the 18th of June I was taken to the Court House as a witness in
the case against Howe; but a long continuance being taken, I was not
called upon to testify. Shortly thereafter one of my attorneys, after
careful preparation, went to London, and did considerable hard work
for me in endeavoring to locate the missing children by searching for
the old addresses given me by Hatch; and the assertion made by the
Assistant District Attorney that I had deceived my counsel and sent him
upon a search I knew to be useless, is simply one of many statements
he has made both to me and for publication that are painful evidence
of the want of discernment and good judgment one had a right to expect
from the occupant of so important a position.
Later in June Detective Guyer called on me, and, in a long conversation
with him, I made a most honest endeavor to place him in possession
of all the facts I could think of that would be instrumental in
facilitating the proposed search, which I looked upon and welcomed as
one of corroboration of the same statements I had previously made,
feeling that upon his following my movements from place to place, and
finding that I had not misled him in any way, he would return more
free to believe other statements that were not so easily verified; and
I do not think I need to state to any intelligent reader that had I
known of the death and burial of the little ones in the Toronto cellar,
and wished to conceal the same, I should have avoided all mention of
other houses where furniture had been brought and, in one instance,
an excavation made, and I feel that if Mr. Guyer were called upon for
a truthful statement, he could not fail to say that but for my aid,
freely given him at this time, together with detailed statements and
drawings previously made relating to those places where I had forgotten
the exact location, his search would have been a failure, inasmuch as
he would have had no incentive to prosecute a similar investigation in
Toronto.
On the morning of the 16th of July, my newspaper was delivered to me
at about 8.30 A. M., and I had hardly opened it before I saw in large
headlines the announcement of the finding of the children in Toronto.
For the moment it seemed so impossible, that I was inclined to think it
one of the frequent newspaper excitements that had attended the earlier
part of the case, but, in attempting to quickly gain some accurate
comprehension of what was stated in the article, I became convinced
that at least certain bodies had been found there, and upon comparing
the date when the house was hired I knew it to be the same as when the
children had been in Toronto; and thus being forced to realize the
awfulness of what had probably happened, I gave up trying to read the
article, and saw instead the two little faces as they had looked when I
hurriedly left them—felt the innocent child’s kiss so timidly given and
heard again their earnest words of farewell, and I realized that I had
received another burden to carry to my grave with me, equal, if not
worse, than the horrors of Nannie Williams’ death.
I think at this time I should have lost my senses utterly had I not
been hurriedly called to prepare to be taken to the District Attorney’s
office. I went there securely handcuffed and accompanied by two
officers for further safety, and not until these extra precautions
were taken did I realize the new and terrible change that had occurred
affecting the entire aspect of my case. Upon reaching the City Hall the
Assistant District Attorney met me. I was in no condition to bear his
accusations, nor disposed to answer many of his questions. I felt it
right that he should know that I had already seen the morning papers,
and upon his demanding that I tell him where the body of the boy could
be found, I answered, that in the light of the Toronto development,
I had reason to think he would be found buried in or about the house
that had been hired in Detroit. He then accused me of killing him in
Detroit and destroying his body by burning it in a furnace that was in
the cellar. This I denied, and moreover felt sure and told him that the
body could not have been destroyed there in that way by any one else,
as I had been in the house upon two occasions and knew that if human
remains had been cremated there even at a considerably earlier date the
odor would have been noticeable. I did not see the District Attorney at
this interview and was very soon taken to the prison again.
For the next forty-eight hours I reasoned and thought, studying
minutely each step of our journey from the time Hatch had joined us;
but what seemed utterly incomprehensible to me then, and even now, was
how any sane man would take such awful chances, even if he had no other
scruples to restrain him, yet I well knew it could have been no one
else that committed the crime, for in that event the non-arrival of
the children would have been known to us. I knew also that the small
sum of $400, that was given to the girls just previous to their death,
could have been no incentive for the commission of the act, and was
forced to look further for the motive. I could only think that it had
been done at Miss Williams’ suggestion and in furtherance of her threat
of the previous year, which, owing to friendliness at a later date, I
had believed wholly abandoned, probably also intending to give color
to a theory (if later for her safety such had to be advanced) that I,
and not she, had killed her sister, pointing to these disappearances
that had occurred at a time when I was known to have had the children
in my charge as corroborative of the same, though I felt sure that her
hellish wish for vengeance for the imagined desertion of the previous
year was much the more potent of the two motives.
Finally I commenced at the time I had first asked them to come here,
and following carefully each step and conversation we had held, I
became certain that when Hatch had first met me in Cincinnati he could
have had no matured plans. Then going over our route I could see no
change until after reaching Indiana. He had gone away for a few days
to Chicago, as he then said, but, as I now believe, to Detroit, to
consult with Miss Williams, as it occurred directly after he had first
known I was liable to be arrested. He then commenced taking more
interest in the children, taking them about with him and buying them
presents. It was at this time, also, that he took a private room,
saying that inasmuch as I was liable to be watched, it was unsafe for
any of us to be at a hotel. It was then that he had his beard removed
from his chin[9] in the barber shop at the Indianapolis depot, each
act being a trifle in itself, yet taken together showed to me that
then was when the change had commenced. Following still further, I had
at first wished to go to Chicago alone, thinking it safer to do so
than to be accompanied by the children. I had asked him to take them
all to Detroit with him, to which he replied that if this was done it
would keep him from looking about for a house there for Mrs. Pitezel,
which we were anxious to obtain as quickly as possible; that he could
take the boy with him easily, for he could accompany him about the
city in his search. This, together with the girls’ desire to go to
Chicago, led me to carry out the arrangement in this way. Then came
our arrival in Detroit, two days later, when Hatch stated that the boy
had gone with Miss Williams to Buffalo, and that he had been delayed
twenty-four hours _en route_ to Detroit at some junction where a wreck
had occurred, thus accounting for his having made no search for a house.
Then of another circumstance, which ordinarily I should not have
considered more than a coincidence. While in Cincinnati, Alice and
the boy had disputed as to which should wear an old watch that had
belonged to their father. Alice advancing her claim of superior
years, Howard, that he was the boy of the family, accompanied by the
remembrance that his father had promised it to him when he grew older.
I settled the matter by taking the watch in charge and buying each
of them a small nickel open-faced watch and chain. This left little
Nellie with a broken heart, and as soon as I noticed her trouble, I
told her that before our journey was ended I would also buy one for
her, or something else equally pleasing to her, if she preferred. The
day after our arrival in Detroit she came to me much elated, saying
Mr. Hatch had bought her a watch. Upon looking at it, it proved to be
of the same make and design as the one Alice had, and I now believe
it was the same watch I had given Howard some days before. Then in
Detroit occurred the buying of the spade and his insisting upon taking
it to Toronto, giving the weak excuse that he had paid for it and did
not wish to throw it away, when he could have sold it at a second-hand
store much easier than to have taken it so far to the depot to place it
in the trunk. Then, the letter from Miss Williams, asking that I pay
the $1,000 due upon the Fort Worth property then, instead of later, as
she wished to use a part of it; it seeming hardly probable, if this had
been the real reason of requiring the money at that time, that so much
trouble would have been taken in trying to convert the money I gave
into a $1,000 bill.
The only other circumstance I could then think of was his almost
querulous objection to my buying a jacket in Detroit for one of the
girls, and later heavier clothing in Toronto, he saying that Miss
Williams could better understand their needs, and his efforts to borrow
$500 from me in Burlington, and also that Alice had told me in Toronto
that Mr. Hatch had given her a letter or a postal card to write for
him, as he had no writing materials at his room. I asked her what it
was about, and she answered, as near as I can remember, that it was to
a Mr. Cooke about a house that he did not need longer and about a sale
of furniture or that it had been sold. If I thought sufficiently of
the matter at the time, I supposed it referred to the Detroit house,
as this was the only one I had reason to think he had engaged, and I
think it will be later found that at Logansport or Peru, or some other
junction town in Indiana, a house was hired upon October 10th or 11th,
while I was in Chicago, and the body of the boy shipped from the hotel
in Indianapolis in accordance with the report that a large trunk was
that day shipped to an unknown destination, and the remains buried
similarly to the Toronto case, and that this was the true cause of his
delay in reaching Detroit.
Some days later I told the authorities that such was my belief, giving
them my reasons for thinking so, and for my pains I was severely taken
to task for having previously stated that I thought he would be found
in or about the Detroit house. From this I have been characterized by
them as a supreme falsifier.
With the one exception of the statements made at the time of my arrest,
and adhered to until I knew Mrs. Pitezel could be no longer saved from
worriment by so doing, I know of no material misstatements made, save
that the children were in England, which I most honestly believed to be
true.
The next day I saw an account in the papers of my wife’s coming here in
answer to a telegram from the District Attorney’s office. This said to
me far more than was printed in the paper. I knew she must have been
intimidated to have come at this time and in answer to a summons from
them. My fears were confirmed a few days later when I learned from a
trusted source that such was the case, and that the threat had been
made that if she made any effort to see or communicate with me she
would be arrested and held as a witness. (It will here be remembered
that our prison interviews were invariably held in the presence of
a keeper.) And upon the other hand if she remained away from me and
aided them, all her expenses would be paid by the prosecution or the
insurance company.
I knew that the latter would have no weight with her, but I feared that
the threats they made would cause her to worry until she became ill,
and I therefore felt justified in resorting to almost any means to see
her and try and quiet her fears. With this in view I wrote the District
Attorney that if I could have an interview with him, my wife being
present, I would endeavor to make it plain to him where they could
expect to find the remains of the boy. This interview was promptly
accorded me and, upon being taken into his private office, I met my
wife, and it needed but one glance to know what she had been and was
then suffering, which caused a feeling of almost uncontrollable anger
to take possession of me, both towards the authorities for unjustly
causing her hard lot to be made worse, and towards myself that for the
sake of business gains I had ever allowed myself to enter into the
petty transactions that had been the cause of all her troubles. My
first inquiry, as could naturally be expected, was as to her physical
condition and if she was in comfortable quarters and free from actual
restraint. I also told her that until the world at large ceased to look
upon me as a murderer I should not in the presence of others greet
her as was my usual custom. If at this time my wife shrank from me as
though in fear, as was given out from the District Attorney’s office
for publication, I, in my blindness, did not see it, and in the days
and nights that followed until I again heard of her welfare almost
my only source of comfort was the remembrance of the few kind words
she had said, and, what was even more to me, that she had worn both
her engagement and her wedding rings, and as many of the gifts I had
presented to her during our happier days as she could without exciting
undue notice, choosing those that would convey to me from their
associations the kind thoughts she knew she would have no opportunity
to say in words.
This was particularly plain to me, inasmuch as it was wholly contrary
to her usual custom to appear thus attired at that early hour of the
day, and in so public a place, and until she tells me that such is
not the case I shall hold to the belief that she is yet loyal to me.
There were present at this meeting, beside the District Attorney,
Mr. Shoemaker and Supt. Linden, and for a part of the time Mr. Fouse
and the Assistant District Attorney. I endeavored to state to them,
in as few words as possible, the circumstances of Hatch’s delay of
twenty-four hours, and the letters sent from either Detroit or Toronto
about a house. They at once branded my statements concerning Hatch as
untrue, and said that he was a mythical person, asking me to name any
one who had ever seen him. In reply I said, “I do not consider that
you have any more grounds for doubting the fact that he was at these
places than to doubt that Mrs. Pitezel or these children were there,
because they did not happen to meet. However, you need not rely upon my
statements.”
Last November or December Mr. Perry, a representative of the insurance
company, came to the prison, in company with another witness, to
question me about some other matters pertaining to the case, and while
there said to me, “Who was the man you met at the Burlington depot you
seemed so surprised to see, and immediately went to the telegraph
office and took up a message you had previously written?”
I told him it was a man named Hatch, a friend of Miss Williams, who
was not connected with my case in any important way. I also stated
in further answer to the District Attorney’s question that I felt
sure that the barber in the Indianapolis depot would remember his
coming there with me, it being so unusual an occurrence for me to be
accompanied by any one; that the proprietor or clerk of the small hotel
where he had taken the children upon their arrival in Detroit would
remember him, and probably the woman where they boarded during most of
their stay in that city, as he accompanied them to the train the day
following my departure for Toronto. That Mrs. Pitezel will remember
his calling at her house at Burlington, and upon her going to the door
he made some trivial excuse and went away, having expected to meet me
there. And that my wife will remember my leaving her upon the steamboat
landing at B. for a moment to step across to the depot to speak to him,
and upon two subsequent occasions while in that city of recognizing
him upon the street, she remarking upon my knowing any one there, and
parties who have lately testified that they knew of my visiting Miss
Williams in New York in 1888, and later in Denver, will know that it
was Hatch and not myself, as I never was in Denver until January, 1894,
and never saw Miss Williams prior to January, 1893.
“Call him Hatch, Jones, or Smith, if you will, but you have known for
months that there was such a person at certain places during the trip
with whom I communicated, and with whom I was seen, and whose existence
you cannot now ignore.”
I then tried to explain to them that for want of time alone, even if I
were the bloodthirsty villain they were inclined to make me appear, I
could not be guilty of the Toronto murders, and begged them to allow me
to go there before by any chance evidence that could now be obtained
should become unavailable to me. To this the District Attorney replied,
“I shall not do it; I shall try you here.” What more could be said?
If a man as broad-minded as I knew the District Attorney to be, both
from common report and from my own observation, would not consider so
important a statement, what could I expect from others having a less
thorough knowledge of the case? I was much disappointed, both at not
being allowed to go there, and at the harsh and unjust way he looked
upon the matter, and the feeling was increased a few minutes later when
I asked to be allowed to provide for my wife’s support while here, by
having him tell me that he did not consider it any part of my business
at the present time to either know of or care for her welfare; and some
weeks later by his refusing to allow my relatives and business agent
to visit me at the prison, and by a number of trivial matters like
withholding my newspaper and intercepting and keeping letters that,
after reading, he could see did not pertain to, and could not influence
my case in any way, saying that if I were given hardships enough and
kept long enough away from others, I would confess these crimes.
Feeling it was useless to prolong the interview, and noticing that my
wife was suffering intensely, I brought it to a close as quickly as
possible. I bade her good-bye and was again handcuffed and taken to
prison.
During the previous days the part of the Toronto matters that had
seemed the most unaccountable to me was how Hatch could have returned
to the depot so soon after I had left both him and the children upon
the train, and what excuse he could have given to them to forego their
journey. This information my interview had supplied. In questioning me,
Superintendent Linden had said, “Who was that light young man standing
upon the corner of the street near the house where the children were
killed, that you spoke with at some length and then went away to hire
an expressman?” I hesitated in my answer to him, and finally told him
that I had not met any one there, but if he knew that such a meeting
had taken place it was of the most vital importance to my case. There
had instantly come into my mind when he had asked this question a
remembrance of two years previous, but owing to their scoffs at the
possibility of Hatch’s existence, I felt it wise to refrain from
speaking of it to him until I could hear from those by whom I could
prove the statement I would have liked to have made at the time.
One day in the spring of ‘93, soon after Miss Williams’ trunks,
containing her theatrical costumes, had been brought to our rooms in
the block in Chicago, returning from the city one afternoon, I met
upon the stairway leading to my office a jauntily dressed young man,
whom, as I passed, I asked to cease smoking his cigarette within the
building, and a few minutes later was being saucily laughed at in my
office by Miss Williams. So clever had the deception been, both in
clothing and change in facial expression by aid of her color box, that
upon her wishing to do so, I allowed her to accompany me upon a trip to
Aurora, Ill., and later to St. Joseph, Mich., costumed in this manner.
That both of these trips, made under these circumstances, actually
occurred, I am able to prove by competent and disinterested persons,
and I feel sure that Miss Williams was in Toronto, probably meeting the
children at Hamilton, and returning with them, and keeping one with
her while the other was killed; and next day, while I must necessarily
have been hundreds of miles away, inasmuch as I registered at Prescott
at 4 P. M., she, if any one, met Hatch near this house, disguised in
this manner. On August 15th, Mr. Cops, a Fort Worth attorney, obtained
permission of the District Attorney to interview me, and, after
questioning me for a time, said he would like to tell me his theory of
how I had killed my Chicago victims, which was that while they were in
my office I had in some way induced them to step inside the vault and
then caused their death by suffocation. He said, “Why, Holmes, it is
the plainest case I ever heard of, even the footprints of one of them
are to be seen upon the door, where in their desperation they had tried
to make their escape.”
I asked him when he believed the last of these deaths had occurred
there. He replied, “Probably in July, 1893. In fact, if you could
show me that Minnie Williams was alive after that date, I would be
much inclined to believe that she was alive now and that she killed
her sister, as you say, for, if alive, only that could have been a
sufficient motive to induce her to conceal her whereabouts for so
long from her Texas friends.” I said, “Will you grant me that I am
not guilty of taking life there since I left Chicago about January 1,
1894, for Texas.” He replied, “Yes, I think that would be safe from
the evidence I have gathered in Chicago.” I said, “In August, 1893,
a fire occurred in the building, causing the destruction of many
valuable letters and papers, and upon the building being repaired I
bought this vault, in October or November, 1893, from a safe and vault
company whose offices were one block west of La Salle street, between
Madison and Adams, in Chicago. The purchase was made in the name of the
Campbell-Yates Company, and in December, 1893, it was put in place and
plastered by a workman named Kriss.
“A very few days thereafter I left Chicago and have never been in the
rooms since. There was never any other vault in the building, save one
upon the first floor that for years had been under the entire control
of tenants occupying the drug and jewelry store in which it is located.
I cannot give you the name or exact address of this company, but it
is plainly printed upon the door of the vault, and upon your return
to Chicago, if you care to do so, you can satisfy yourself of the
truthfulness of my statement regarding it.” He said, “Until I can do
this I cannot believe it to be true, but if I do find that such is the
case I shall be inclined to return to Fort Worth and abandon my case,
and upon the strength of what you have told me, I will say to you that
I have lately learned that there has been found at Fort Worth among
mail that was sent to you after you left that city, a London letter
from Miss Williams, but being so sure in my own mind that she died
nearly a year previous to that time, I have supposed it to be a clever
forgery sent there by you to mislead those who found it.” I told him
that Miss Williams had sent me three letters there which were forwarded
by Mr. John L. Judd, my Denver agent, 1609 Lawrence street, that city,
to whom he could write to or visit to corroborate my statement. That
two of these letters I had received and had supposed the other had been
sent to the Dead Letter Office and destroyed; that if he would take
the letter to Mr. —— and others in Fort Worth, who knew her writing,
they would at once tell him it was not a forgery. A few days later
I heard of the explosion and fire at the block in Chicago, and felt,
as has lately been the case whenever I hear of any loss of life,
strange disappearances or other misdemeanors not easily accounted for,
throughout the United States—anywhere in the world in fact—almost
thankful that the strong doors of my prison room make it impossible for
such acts to now be ascribed to me.