_An Escape, and a Triumph._
After a few weeks' incarceration, Mrs. Raymond, in accordance with my
advice, made known the secret of her sex to the chief officer of the
prison, to whom she also communicated the great wrongs which she had
suffered at the hand of Livingston. The officer, who was a good and
humane man, was deeply affected by this narrative. He immediately placed
Mrs. Raymond in a more comfortable room and caused her to be provided
with an abundance of female garments, which she now resumed. Her story,
of course, was given in all the newspapers; and it excited the deepest
sympathy in her behalf. One editor boldly asserted that no jury could be
found to convict the fair prisoner under the circumstances. As regarded
my case, the propriety of my immediate discharge from custody was
strongly urged, an opinion in which I fully concurred.
I shall dwell upon these matters as briefly as possible. I was first
brought to trial, and the jury acquitted me without leaving their seats;
Mrs. Raymond was merely convicted of manslaughter in the fourth degree,
so great was the sympathy that existed in her behalf, and the judge
sentenced her to be imprisoned during the term of two years. Although I
considered her particularly fortunate in receiving a punishment so
comparatively light, I resolved to effect her liberation in some way or
other.
I may as well here remark that the last wife and victim of Livingston
never survived the blow. She soon died of a broken heart.
My first step was to repair to Harrisburg, the capitol city of the
State, in order to solicit Mrs. Raymond's pardon from Governor Porter,
who was renowned, and by some parties strongly condemned, for his
constant willingness to bestow executive clemency upon prisoners
convicted of the most serious offences.[K] I easily obtained an
interview with his Excellency, whom I found to be a very clever sort of
personage. Having made known my errand, and related all the particulars
of Mrs. Raymond's case, I urged her claims to mercy with all the
eloquence of which I was master.
The Governor listened to me with attention; and, when I had concluded,
he said--
"My inclination strongly prompts me to pardon this most unfortunate
lady; but I have recently pardoned so many convicted prisoners, that the
press and the people generally are down on me, and I really dare not
grant any more pardons at present. I will, however, commute the lady's
sentence from two years to one."
With this partial concession I was obliged to be contented. The
necessary documents were made out, and with them I posted back to
Pittsburg. When I entered the cell of my fair friend and told her what I
had effected in her behalf, she burst into tears of gratitude and joy.
One long year taken off her sentence, was certainly something worth
considering.
"Courage, my friend!" said I, "even if you are obliged to serve out the
remnant of your sentence, which I trust will not be the case, a year
will soon pass away. I shall not leave Pittsburg until you are free. You
will see me often; and I will take care that you are abundantly provided
with everything that can contribute to your comfort. Keep up a good
heart; you have at least one friend who will never desert you."
Three months passed away, during which time I gained an excellent
subsistence by writing for various newspapers and magazines. Three times
every week I had an interview with Mrs. Raymond, whom I caused to be
supplied with every comfort and luxury as allowed by the rules of the
prison. She had just nine months to serve, when one day I was
unexpectedly enabled to effect her liberation in the following manner.
I had called upon her, as usual. After an interview of about half an
hour's duration, I bade her adieu and left her apartment. To gain the
street, it was necessary to pass through the office of the prison. In
that office were generally seated three or four turnkeys, one of whom
always went and locked Mrs. Raymond's door after my leaving her.
Upon entering the office on the occasion to which I now refer, I found
but one turnkey there, and he was _fast asleep_. I instantly resolved to
take advantage of the lucky circumstance which good fortune had thrown
in my way.
Hastening back to Mrs. Raymond's cell, I briefly told her the state of
affairs and bade her follow me. She obeyed, as might be supposed,
without much reluctance. We passed through the office and out into the
street; but, before departing, I transferred the key from the inside to
the outside of the door and locked the sleeping turnkey in, so that
there could be no possibility of his immediately pursuing us, when he
should awaken and discover the flight of his prisoner.
I was tolerably well furnished with cash, and my fair friend, at my
suggestion, purchased an elegant bonnet and shawl--for, it will be
remembered, she had resumed the garments appropriate to the female sex.
As for myself, I was exceedingly well dressed, and no alteration in my
costume was necessary, in order to present a respectable appearance.
I entertained no serious apprehensions of any great effort being made to
capture the fugitive, she having had but nine months to serve, and being
therefore a person of but little importance when viewed as a prisoner.
Moreover, I hoped that the kind-hearted chief officer of the prison
would charitably refrain from making any extraordinary exertions in the
matter. But these considerations did not prevent me from exercising a
reasonable degree of caution.
We left Pittsburg that evening, for Philadelphia, where we arrived in
due season. I immediately sought and procured employment as a writer, at
a liberal salary. A few days after our arrival in Philadelphia, Mrs.
Raymond said to me--
"My dear friend, I am not going to remain a burden to you. Listen to the
plan which I have to propose. I think of going upon the stage."
"What, and becoming an actress?"
"Yes. I flatter myself that my voice and figure are both passable; and I
really think that I possess some talent for the theatrical profession. A
respectable actress always receives a good salary. If the plan meets
with your approbation, I shall place myself under the tuition of some
competent teacher; and my _debut_ shall be made as soon as advisable."
I did not attempt to dissuade Mrs. Raymond from carrying out this plan,
which I thought, in fact, to be a very excellent idea. Once successfully
brought out upon the stage, she would have a profession which would be
to her an unfailing means of support.
According to the best of my judgment, she possessed every mental and
physical qualification necessary to constitute a good actress. Beautiful
and sprightly, talented and accomplished--possessing, too, the most
exquisite taste and skill as a vocalist and musician, I saw no reason
why she should not succeed upon the stage as well, and far better, than
many women a thousand times less talented. Therefore, encouraged by my
cordial approbation of her plan, and acting in accordance with my
recommendation, the fair aspirant to dramatic honors placed herself
under the instructions of a popular and well-known actor, who was fully
capable of the task which he had undertaken.
A few months passed away, and my fair friend announced herself as being
nearly in readiness to make her first appearance. I was delighted with
the rapid and satisfactory progress which she had made. The recitations
with which she occasionally favored me, were delivered in the highest
style of the elocutionary art, and convinced me that she was destined to
meet with the most unbounded success.
She proposed making her _debut_ as _Beatrice_, in Shakespeare's glorious
comedy, "Much Ado About Nothing,"--a character well calculated to
display her arch vivacity and charming sprightliness. I saw her rehearse
the part, and was satisfied that she _must_ achieve a brilliant
triumph,--an opinion that was fully concurred in by her gratified
instructor, and also by the manager and several of the leading actors
and actresses of the theatre.
The eventful evening came at last, and the house was crowded in every
part. Seating myself in a private box in company with the actor who had
instructed Mrs. Raymond, I awaited her appearance with the utmost
confidence. The curtain arose, and the play commenced. When _Beatrice_
came on, a perfect storm of applause saluted her. Her appearance, in her
elegant and costly stage costume, was really superb. Perfectly
self-possessed, and undaunted by the sea of faces spread out before her,
she went on with her part, and was frequently interrupted by deafening
shouts of approval. The _Benedict_ of the evening being a very fine
actor, and the _Dogberry_ being as funny a dog as ever created a broad
grin or a hearty laugh--the entire comedy passed off in the most
admirable manner; and, at its conclusion, my fair friend being loudly
called for, she was led out in front of the curtain by _Benedict_. A
shower of bouquets now saluted her; and, having gracefully acknowledged
the kindness of the audience, she retired.
This decided success caused the manager to engage Mrs. Raymond at a
liberal salary. She subsequently appeared with equal success in a round
of the best characters; and the press, and every tongue, became eloquent
in her praise. She was now in a fair way to acquire a fortune as great
as the one which she had lost through the villainy of Livingston.
Thinking her worthy of a higher position than that of a mere stock
actress, I advised her, after a year's sojourn in Philadelphia, to
travel as a _star_. To this she eagerly assented, and accordingly I
accompanied her to New York, where she was immediately engaged by the
late Thomas S. Hamblin, of the Bowery Theatre.[L] Her success at this
popular establishment was unprecedented in the annals of dramatic
triumphs. Night after night was she greeted by crowded, enthusiastic and
enraptured audiences. In short, she became one of the most celebrated
actresses of the day.
FOOTNOTES:
[K] It is related of Governor Porter as an illustration of his pardoning
propensities, that once, after his term of office had expired, a
gentleman accidentally ran against him in the street. "I beg your
pardon," said the gentleman. "I cannot grant it," said Mr. Porter, "for
I am no longer Governor."
[L] I have not, for reasons that will be easily understood, given the
name which Mrs. Raymond assumed, after her adoption of the dramatic
profession.