The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1882-02-23
"FORGIVE HIM. %
Letter of Mrs. ScOville to Mrs
Garfield.
A Petition of Guiteau's Sister Asking
Mrs. Garfield to Forgive the
Murderer of Her Husband.

IL
registered letter to Chicago on Tuesday,
was received by the latter in this city
yesterday:
MRS. LUCRETIA GARFIELD, Cleveland, o.
Dear Madam: Humbly | address you,
trusting you will not turn deaf ear
even upon despised Guiteau's sister.
All these weary months / have patti
emily waited until the time should come
for me to speak; when, after the verdict,
which / believed would be Not guilty,
by reason of insanity" could say with
out shamefacedness, "My heart bleeds
for you and the sainted dead"
My poor brother was not his own
master when he fired that shot. Forgive
him; look with compassion upon him
and me.
have counted the hours for the time
when could boldly say to you, as have
said from the moment when the terrible
news was brought me on that dark day
in July: "He was brain sick, deluded,
crazy; forgive him, even as Christ shall
forgive us all"
Both our martyred President and his
family having shown such an example
of Christian fOrtitude and trust in the
Most High as the world may well revere,
led me to hope Sthat the sense of wrong
suffered would, when the truth was
shown, be tempered with that merciful
All these dreadful weeks of the PTesi-
dents suffering prayed that the Father
above us all would spare his life. Day
and night my beseeching cry went up:
"GOd save the President" l thought he
could not die.
When the people of the whole world
called nightly unto Him to interpOse
in his behalf, 1 said: Surely He will
show forth His glory" But, alas! the
tenderest care of wife, family, and
friends, the prayers of the people could
not move the Ruler of the universe to
cOuntermand the decrees of His all-wise
and mysterious providence; could not
keep in his poor, despoiled body his
grandly beautiful soul.
Despite the vigils, the tears, and the
prayers of the family, of the Nation, Of
the world, the midnight bells were t0lled,
the midnight cry was heard, "The Presi-
dent is dead"
We gazed upon the lifeless clay-gOne
gone to dwell with the glOTified saints
of the Lord. And we, our tears flowed
without stint, and we said: us there no
GOd?" Truly, it was grieVOus wrong.
The Lord, and He alone, can judge where
lies the moral responsibility. This peO-
pie are in His hands. They walk on holy
ground. 1t BELTS them that they see to
It, putting off their feet the unclean
shoes of their worldly walking, being
that they tread carefully, tendeTly, to
the end that justice, and truth, and mercy
shall prevail.
In July, when it was reported that the
suffering President was likely to recover,
wrote a letter to you stating the facts
in my brothers life and every theory of
this case, thinking that both yourself
and the President would be glad to know
that a poor crazy man had done the deed,
instead of the hardened wretch he was
painted. At the time it was reported
the President was interested in anything
regarding the terrible affair, that he
even said one day. =! wonder what that
/ had forgiven him?" Oh! that might
know from his own wife if that were
true. My heart, be still.
In Heaven we know, as we are known,
the sainted Garfield knows now that he
chad to do it," and feel sure if he could
speak he would say: "FOrgive that de-
luded man, even as | forgive him; safely
keep him from doing any more harm,
but forgive"
1 never sent the letter. The report
came almost Immediately that the Presi-
dent was worse, and knew you would
not wish to be troubled with anything
from Guiteau's sister.
/ had hoped by waiting to come before
you with better shOwing-vindicate
so far as insanity is an excuse for
crime, but my heart burns within me,
and, Notwithstanding that unjust YER
dict and barbarOus sentence, l must
speak. My poor brother shut away from
the world for months in tOmb-like cell;
not a ray of sunshine, not a blade of
grass, not flower, not bird, not a
friend to speak a kind word; who is there
to speak in his behalf, if not his heart
broken sisterP Did not speak, the very
stones would cry out!
His sainted mother, the purest and
nOblest of women, that mother who
gave her life for his, who suffered tor
ture for seven long years because OF his
birth, until death made her free; that
father, tender and kind, but mistaken
in his direction of the boy, would, if
possible, make their voices heard from
beyond the grave. Even, as verify be-
lieve, would the glorious Garfield cry
out in horror at that verdict. What of
that verdictp Was it itaccOrding to truth,
Justice and mercy? Verify, no.
1 had hoped to be able to cast myself
at the feet of Judge Cox; to be able so
long as had breath, to look up to him
as the grand, the noble, the just judge,
who could stand as firm as the everlast-
ing rocks for the weak and defenseless
against the whole world. But, alas, my
idOll
And that juryi God only knows how
1 had trusted in their honesty and stead
fastness. l had watched their faces day
by day, had seen their eager, absorbed,
solemn interest when my brother was
reading his last address. When he came
to the recitation of those few lines of
the story John Browns body lies
moldering in the grave, but his soul
goes marching along" commencing in
low, sad melody Of the song, breaking
up and ending in weird, hysterical
laugh, the awful laugh of the insane,
one could feel the silence. l thought
surely 1t is enough; no power upon earth
can prevail upon those men to say that
poor lunatic, without revenge, without
motive except to obey what he deemed
the will of God, committed a willful
murder.
But they did. They must have rea-