BY CHARLES R. MILLER, GOVERNOR OF DELAWARE

[Delaware has received in recent months national

attention because a member of Congress asked in Congress

whether the use of the whipping post in Delaware cannot

be declared contrary to the provisions of the national

constitution. To flog prisoners seems to most people a

relic of barbarism. Is it justified? Do you agree with

the Governor of Delaware?]

Delaware has whipped criminals of certain types since 1656, and

will continue to whip them until the statutes under which corporal

punishment is indicted shall be repealed.

Congress cannot, and certainly will not, interfere in the exercise

of proper authority under the law, and as the whipping post is an

integral part of the criminal law of Delaware every law officer must

consent to its use regardless of any personal views he may have in the

matter. Hysterical women, weak men, bullies, cranks and blackguards

in all parts of the country have written to me demanding that I set

aside the law and prohibit whippings for crime in Delaware. These good

souls give no heed to the fact that the whippings are quite as legal in

Delaware as imprisonment. Their demands amount to anarchy, so far as

law enforcement goes. They cry, “Down with the law!” without knowing

whereof they speak.

I want every criminal, every sharper and every moral leper to know that

if he comes to Delaware and violates the law he will not only serve

a long term in our none too comfortable jails, but that he will be

whipped in public on his bare back before he enters his cell. I wish

this fact could be spread to the uttermost corners of the country.

Delaware wants no undesirable citizen. This State offers nothing but

the whip and the workhouse for the gunmen, white slavers, panders,

highwaymen and common thieves which people the underworld of some of

our larger cities and who seem to get a certain amount of applause for

their more daring performances from the same type of people who demand

that I shall set aside a fundamental law of my State and defy the

decrees of our High Court.

[A] From several newspapers.

Delaware houses one-half of her population in the city of Wilmington.

All the rest of the State is strictly rural. Our people are of the

soil. They are typical farmers—plain, wholesome, God-fearing people

who obey the law and who punish crime with severity. We have neither

the means nor the machinery with which to patrol our rural districts

with armed officers. It follows, then, that we must have laws carrying

severe penalties and rigidly enforce them.

Half the people in Delaware south of Wilmington never lock their doors

at night, window fasteners are uncommon, and thought of burglars is

totally absent from the minds of our people. Once in a long while some

half-drunken loon will enter a house at night. When he is not kicked

out as a mere intruder he is locked up, tried, convicted and whipped

according to law, and then locked up long enough to think it over

himself and to deter all others from a like offense.

Those who criticise the whipping post adversely overlook the fact that

Delaware is the broad highway between four chief American cities.

Our unthinking critics include those who do not know that time or

the loss of time means nothing at all to a very large proportion of

our population. A day, or a week, or a month, more or less, costs a

low-grade negro nothing at all in opportunity or in money. The native

negroes of Delaware know their place and make no trouble. They are far

above the average in habits and in intelligence, but we have a floating

negro population which is definitely bad, and we must safeguard our

people, white and black, against those who come from all parts of the

Shore country to the canneries, work a few weeks or months and then

pass on, only to give place to another lot just as bad, or even worse.

The negro with city habits is a worse proposition than the farm trained

hand, who is usually law-abiding and useful. Delaware can handle her

own negroes with little or no force, but the passing throng of bad

men needs attention, and they file by with eyes front on the whipping

posts. Cells mean nothing at all to such men, white or black.

Delaware is absolutely free from all forms of white slavery. This

particular form of crime is punished here without recourse to the

Mann Act or aid from the Federal authorities. Did the whipping post do

naught else but keep cadets out of Delaware it proves its eternal value

here. In every other State in the Union in which there is a large city

the white slave problem comes up with a degree of regularity. The same

people who condemn the whipping post wring their hands and wonder what

to do about the cadets and their wretched victims. Delaware answers,

“Whip the cadet!”

Years ago a gang of desperadoes undertook to rob a Wilmington bank.

They tunneled under the building, and would have carried off $500,000

in negotiable securities but for the suspicions of an alert watchman.

They were arrested, and on trial paid one attorney a very large fee

solely to the end that they might be saved from the public whipping.

The late great Chief Justice Lore sentenced them to long terms in

prison and to the utmost limit of the law as to pillory and lashes.

There has never been a bank robbery attempted in Delaware from that day

to this by professional burglars. These men were bank robbers of the

first grade; the same men who managed one of the sensational robberies

in New York—the Metropolitan Bank, I think. That type of criminal never

considers Delaware now for a second.

A prison term means nothing at all to him, but he would never dare show

his face in his usual haunts after the lash fell on his bare back in a

Delaware jail.

All prison reformers and all humanitarians agree that the object of

all punishment is to prevent crime—remotely to cure the criminal.

We are not discussing the cure of criminals. We are discussing the

whipping post per se, and I submit that the whipping post has prevented

two of the most terrible of all crimes short of murder—white slavery

and burglary. There is a grave doubt in my mind if there has been a

single burglary in Delaware within twenty years committed by a man who

was entirely sane and wholly sober, and I do not recall any second

offenders.

It will not be seriously questioned that society has a right to protect

itself. If the whipping post proves to be a perpetual and potential

protector against the burglar, the highwayman and the cadet, why cry

down its effectiveness? New York had an epidemic of gunmen; Chicago had

an epidemic of highwaymen; Boston and Philadelphia made war on cadets.

Delaware simply painted her whipping posts and multiplied school houses.

Within recent weeks, in Philadelphia, Judge Norris S. Barratt declared

from the bench that nothing except a thoroughly good whipping at a

public post would serve to adequately punish a wife beater before him.

This learned jurist is intimately familiar with social and political

conditions in Delaware and, before the Sons of Delaware, most ably

defended the whipping post as an aid to crime prevention.

Solitary confinement has been proved a failure. It rots out the

prisoner, destroys all ambition, and when his hour of freedom comes

he is without initiative, without occupation and without hope. Trades

are now taught these men, but day after day they are “lined up” as

professionals, and their lives become a misery to them.

Now I repeat that the basic idea of punishment has to do with the

protection of society against the criminal. It would be a little beyond

me to explain the psychological effect of a public whipping upon the

mind of a professional criminal, but of course I had ideas. The fact

remains, however, that the mere prospect of such a whipping keeps men

out of Delaware who would not hesitate a second to “shoot up” a dance

hall in New York or Chicago.

It is a fact of common knowledge that ship masters of undoubted

courage, of tested and proved valor, are as timid as little children

when ashore; that firemen who never give a thought to personal peril

at a conflagration, bawl and make an awful to-do about having a tooth

filled. Frank Gotch, the wrestler, who could tear an ordinary man apart

with his hands, bows with absolute submission, I am told, to the will

of Mrs. Gotch.

Doubtless the men of science, the psychologists, have a definite name

for this phenomenon of the mind. I do not know this word, but I do

know that burglars and highwaymen who would brave the police force of

Philadelphia or any other large city will not even consider a “job” in

Delaware and that these men when asked why, invariably reply that they

will take no chance of the whipping post. It may be a display of vanity

more than fear. I do not quite know.

I have no quarrel with those who want to reform prisons, but I am a

most earnest advocate of any and every method that prevents crime, and

this the whipping post does to a marked degree.

The sense of shame that follows a public whipping is quite a different

matter from the innermost feelings of the same man flogged in privacy.

In the underworld, where there exist strata of preferment just as there

are social equations in organized society, a man who has done “a bit”

of long duration lives in a degree of reflected glory. A yeggman who

has served ten or twelve years in Cherry Hill, Sing Sing, Joliet or any

one of the other notorious prisons has a certain standing among his

fellows in crime. But it is a curious yet certain fact that the man

who is whipped in public loses caste at once and forever. It seems to

be that in having been sentenced to be whipped, the scene in the court

room, the display in the jailyard and the final flogging—all produce a

profound and a lasting mental shock.

This is not true when a mere warder calls a man out of his cell, beats

him and then throws him in a dark hole. This performance is followed by

mere resentment. The victim of this system, and the prisoner is very

often a victim, merely promises himself to kill the warder if he ever

has a chance, or some like foolish threat. Not so when a High Court, a

Chief Justice, amid scenes of dignity and decorum, orders the whipping.

It is the effect upon the mind of the man whipped and the result of the

whipping upon the minds of other criminals that count. It is purely

psychic but it is none the less effective.

None of the men whipped in Delaware is punished to the point that very

great physical torture follows. Such a lashing would create a martyr

of a criminal, and this must be avoided.

Criminals of the type that hold up trains, raid banks and rob

Government buildings are jealous of their reputations in the

underworld. Once whipped they become objects of derision and contempt

in their own circles. Some of these men are inordinately vain. It is

quite likely that this vanity, affectation or love of even doubtful

glory deters them from invading Delaware and daring the post.

Notice how the arrest of a notorious yeggman is always followed by

accurate reports of his record. Study these records and you will seldom

see that the prisoner was whipped in Delaware. It is idle to assume

that these men are afraid to come to Delaware because we have police,

a militia and all the other agencies for the enforcement of law. These

are common to all communities. They are not in any degree afraid of

the physical punishment involved in a Delaware whipping. Many of them

in friendly boxing bouts are more thoroughly beaten up every few days

while exercising. It is the preliminaries, the mental picture of the

trial, the solemnity of the sentence, the ignominy of the performance,

and, last of all, the contempt, ridicule and humiliation at the hands

of their consorts, male and female, that produce the result first on

the individual whipped, and ultimately upon all of his kind.

If there was nothing to it but a mere flogging by a prison warder

of doubtful authority; simply one man in brief authority beating up

another man but temporarily in his keeping, there would be, could be,

no such result, and the whipping of criminals would probably degenerate

into revolting performances with attending scandals. The Delaware

system precludes any such possibility.

The women of the nation lead in all humanitarian work as they should.

In every large city in the United States, except Wilmington, Delaware,

some brute is sent to jail every day or so for wife beating. Chicago

has had to establish a Court of Domestic Relations for the almost

exclusive benefit of women who have been whipped by beasts who swore to

love and honor them. Delaware will never need any such court so long as

the whipping post is so near the court house and in such great favor

with our judiciary. There is no Judge sitting in Delaware who does not

strongly favor the last for wife beaters.

Some of our good friends who call themselves penologists,

philanthropists, humanitarians and prison reformers overlook one all

important matter in their crusades. This essential is the prevention of

crime. Without discussion I will agree to everything that any of them

propose for the health and education and reformation of a criminal, but

I still insist that he is best off when he is kept from crime.

The people of Delaware are not barbarians. In education, in culture, in

true charity and in man’s love for man the people of Delaware rank with

the best in the land and in patriotism second to none. It is absurd to

attempt the indictment of a people of a sovereign State. Delaware has a

proud place in the history of the country and is prepared to meet every

proper issue as it arises and Congressmen from the wilds of Montana

will do well to study the practical results following legislation in

Delaware before asking for Federal interference in a purely State

matter.

Let every professional criminal in all the world know that Delaware is

no field for his operation; that crime here means public whippings on

the bare back, the ultimate of public disgrace, absolute enforcement of

the law and Delaware will be well served. Other States may toy with the

criminal; experiment with crime and multiply the police, but Delaware

will continue to prevent crime and thus save the criminal from himself

and protect the public from the criminal.

There is no considerable sentiment against the whipping post in

Delaware.

The Delinquent (Vol. IV, No. 1), January, 1914 · 第 5 / 19 题