The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-04-22
MURDERERS UNDER SENTENCE.
A Vain Search for the Pangs of Conscience,
of Which We Read in Fiction.
New York Sun.

second is Giuseppe Guidci. who deliberately af
ter generalization, slaughtered fellow-workman
for fancied grievance The third is Alexander
jefferson, the Crow Hill assassin, who stood out
side a shanty where his friends were assembled,
and fred into the party again and again, until he
had killed two and wounded two.
'Do they wake up at night and shriekr the
reporter inquired of Warden Julian.
''No" said the warden in a loud and derisive
monosyllable.
SIS their hair turning whiteP
''No" in the same manner.
do they dread the darknessl Do they say
they are sorryl Do they admit that they have
done anything for which they should suffer-
Nothing of the sort, said the warden and
he looked at his questioner as if the reporter was
poet callow boy.
'But they are very miserable, of course" con-
tinued the reporter, knowing as they do that
their end is close at hand, and will be com
passed in a frightful mannerr
why" said the warden. in amazement, 1--WE
have to stop the italian from singing, he's
happy He sings so loud and so much we have
to stop him. But otherwise, the three are the
best prisoners we have; the quietest, the most
orderly, and best
Have they any appetitel Can they eatl'
Lord bless you; you ought to see them. Of
course, murderers always eat hearty"
'Look here" said the official, Il never knew
any man to suffer such things you suppose
these people do-that is any except my own
father He had a narrow escape from burn
ing building, and his hair turned gray right
afterward, but never knew such thing in
my official experience.
II never knew man under sentence of death
TO experience what you describe" he went on,
Il never knew one to feel remorse. They eat
we'll sleep well, and are usually in excellent
spirits Such things as their hair turning
white, seeing the bodies Of their victims in the
dark, getting thin, and so on l never knew a
case Of They are sometimes a little nervous
just after the excitement of their trial and
sentence, but it soon wears off.
Mr. Thomas H. Elliott the book keeper. took
the reporter into the jail Guidici was in his
| cell reading the Eco dItalia by the light of two
candles. He is large stout, bright-eyed man,
with plump, good-natured face. He cannot
speak English, yet he managed to say that he
was all right" and me feela good The walls
and ceiling of his cell were plastered with pict
ures cut from illustrated papers His taste in
selecting them showed him to be of cheerful
temperament When he is asked in italian how
he can account for the deliberate and frightful
crime he committed, he says it was an accident,
and that he would have been acquitted if the in
terpreter had translated his testimony in correct
terms.
In a cell in the opposite corridor is Alexander
Jefferson, sulky negro, who declines to talk to
outsiders, but has listened to the views of
kindly but misguided prison reforner, woman,
until he has imbibed her arguments against cap
ital punishment-well enough in their way, but
wholly out of place-which now form nearly his
sole staple of conversation with those he will
talk to. He likes to talk very much. His health
is excellent and he eats with good appetite.
Next door is Mills the wife-slayer He
is man OF more than ordinary inteli-
gence and with good face, married by the
strain of excessive drinking He is averse to
talking with any one but the keepers and coun-
sell but his conscience is stlled by the firm belief
that because he was crazed with drink when he
slew his wife he apnIittad
He looks haggard and complains of loss of sleep.
ats malaria" he says; 81 have suffered from
it long time, and have got severe spell of it
now" Before he was taken sick he was very
cheerful and decorated his cell with light
heart and cheerful choice of prints When
he was sentenced he said to the court: "All l
have to say is that if l must die, | die an limo
cent man" "
'NIy experience is this" said Mr. Elliott, paus
ing at the end of the corridor. 'These prison
ers and all the prisoners that ever saw, what
ever their crime may be- Justify themselves in
every case. They really think their crime an
excusable one under the circumstances, or argue
in that way until they come to think so. They
think that they needed the money that they got
from their victim, that their victim would
have killed them if they had not killed him, or
that the aggravation which led to the crime was
unbearable so, in one fashion another, they
grow compiacent over the contemplation of their
guilt"
''You may go all through my prison." said
Warden John Green, of Grow Hill penitentiary,
land you will not find prisoner who thinks it
right and just that he should be confined. Each
one knows he is guilty, but each one knows that
the guilt must be proven, and so he argues to
himself that if his lawyer had understood how to
manage the case and put it just right, and the
judge and jury had only seen it in the same
light, he would have got off The question of
guilt does not enter into the case There is no
remorse, but there is regret, not for the com
mission of the crime, but for the inability to es
cape punishment"
Though the reporter went thus to the bottom
of the question, and put inquiries such as would
form part of primer in the study of the ques-
ton, he had seen and talked to at least fifty
murderers under sentence of death and had wit
messed the execution of quarter CT that num-
Der. Among them he saw one Of the traits
upon which novelists and preachers build their
fances or frame their warnings. One of the
first men whose execution he witnessed was
negro-one of the three hanged in Hampstead
who had an enormous mouth, which he could
twist into odd shapes On the way to the gal
lows he recognized an acquaintance, and
his sense Of humor so dominated all
his emotions that he involuntarily twisted his
mouth into strange shape by way of a saluta
ton. The Motley Maguires, whose deaths the
reporter witnessed in the Jail at Mauch Chunk,
believed from the moment they were arrested
until the moment they died that they were mar
tyrs making glorious ending to life.
Sindram, the agnostic, was undsturbed by
his crime or fate He cared nothing for death,
life, public opinion, the hereafter He shot
his landlady in cold blood He was more intel
ligent than any murderer hanged here in We ny
many years
Chastine Cox, the murderer of the good
woman who had been his kindest friend. was in
terror so long as he was exposed to public view,
because he had an idea that somebody might
shoot him. He chung to the police his pro
tectors. He never exhibited remorse for an in
slant, and though he and every one else knew
that he murdered a sleeping and helpless
woman, he came to make himself believe that
he tried to gag and bind her with all gentleness,
and that when he quilted her room she was
alive. He thought himself guilty of simple
assault and battery. He paid more heed to his
| clothes and to the sensation he was creating and
to the attentions of the silly women, whose
visits to murderers throughout this country are a
ldisgrace TO the communities that permit them,
| than he ever dill 10 liz souls welfare OF the