Richland beacon., 1873-02-08
After the Verdict.

At twelve o'clock precisely on Saturday
night Edward :. Stokes re-cntered the
Tombs Il condemned fclon. on the very
anniversary of the day of the week Oh
which he committed the deed which may
send him to a telon's death. On the way
from the court 10 the prison Stokes SAID
not Il word to Deputy Sheriff Shields, who
has had him in charge on all the many oc-
cas- onS in which he has been To and from
the I'OmbS during the past year. But the
last inie he entered the dark gateway OF
the din~v pile. the sentiments he felt were
entirely al variance with those of all other
times. Then. at least. though murderer,
ne had strong hope. that hope, indeed,
which maketh the heart sick. But on sat
urday night that heart must have sunk
within itself with a great awe and a re-
mcmbrancc of that eternal law OF the l)l-
vinity: Thou shalt not kill.' lie who
thought that the whole community would
support him in the death OF bad man.
then at last found that above the conmu-
nifty there is law, above public opinion
:hcre isjustice.
Throughout the night Stokes slept well
in spite of the strong emotion under which
he must have lahOrcd. When he woke
up in the morning about seven O'Clock. he
was very nervous and depressed. and
showed already the effect OF the sentence
which he had so little expected. To him
il WAS a terrible blow. all the more so that
! it was so little expected. When his break
fast was brought him he refused, saying
TO the keeper:
IL cannot eat"
| .Hou had better take something to sup
port You in your trial. said the keeper.
elingly.
No, no; leave me alone. That's all |
! ask Of YOU said Stokes. Il don't want
/ to be annoyed"
The keeper went away: but, remarking
! that Stokes did not seem himself, and that
the coolncss which has become almost
proverbial had deserted him, passed every
few moments before the door of his cell
He saw him lying on the bed, which is on
the si,le of his cell, his face concealed in
the pillow. and evidently lab0ring unde,
the most severe mental depression. FO,
hours he never stirred, and at tine prom
cnalc time of the prisoners, refused tt
leave his cell to take his customary walk
He did not weep, for when he turned III
his face at the question of the keeper
whether he wautd to go ont, his eye:
were not red, but his face was haggart
and his look was that OF a man who wa:
undergoing the very extremity of menta
anguish, and only wished To be left alon'
to plunge himseltin it to the fullest exten
possible. lie seemed to revel in anguish
if the expression may be used in such
solemn thing as the thoughts of maj
who already sees the gallOws loom up il
. his path. where he thought there woul'
+ be liberty and pleasure. Only those wh'
can imagine the difference between tn
. thoughts of mrn who has cultivated
. cherished and carcsscd the idea of free
dom and the pleasures of life for lon!
weary days in lonely cell. caressing hi
. soul with tie thought and banishing ev
cry unhappy impulse with the phrase
''Some day all will be right" and who il
one single moment, suddenly, awfullv az
.. paliing. hears pronounced against him
, sentence of death by twelve men whom
he thought his friends. caa realize the tel
ror Of the feeling which must be Stoke
lot at the present moment, when all tina
cherished hope is cast to the winds. an
he finds himself thrust down on lev'
with all those vile creatures whom h
3, considered so immeasurably below hin
e Yea further down than they, for they hay
u hope while he has none; 10 hope but I'll
= pirdon beyond the grave Nct0 Yc'
!. ! Herald