The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1885-12-23
TIE WHIPPING POST.



Here there was loud changing of iron
ioofs, and a murmur went up from the
crowd as the warden and Sheriff strobe out
Of the prison with a young darby between
Them. He was a slender, beardless boy,
bare to the waist His skin was block and
soft as lady's glove. A few white flakes
fell against his smooth breast, and he shook
them of. The boys eyes were clear and he
! looked steadily at the Sheriff, who carried
! in his hand yellow-handled whip from
which dangled nine stiff leather lashes, two
feet long. His name was William Turner,
and he was sentenced to Ave lashes for steal
ing. Hardly had he reached the square
post under the pil!ory platform when his
wrists were seized by the warden and thrust
into strong iron manacles on each side of it.
His feet were left free. On the right stood
the Sheriff with his terrible whip, and ON
the left was the warden with the crumpled
court warrant in his hand, ready to couat
the lashes. The crowd shuffied around
uneasily. Thea the sherif's eye softened.
One, - cried the warden.
Swish The lashes curled in the air Ike
snakes and dnrted at the glossy, tender
shoulders as if eager to bite. The nine-tails
fell lightly, and the boy gave q sigh of re-
lief. In fact, the Sheriff did not bend his
arm, but merely used force enough to sting
slightly. The second blow was stronger
the third was stronger still, and the fth
was a swisher, which made a kissing sound
and put nine white streaks across the pris-
oner's back
When the whipped boy was taken back
to his cell the crowd stared at the shivering
victims of the piIlory until the Sheriff and
the warden again appeared, bringing with
hem this time white man. The prisoner
was small, stunted man of about forty
years, with snaky black eyes, closed to-
yether, keen, hooked nose, struggling
growth of black beard and low Torch sad
His shoulders were yellow and scrawny,
and his arms were thin, while his breast was
roughly coated with hair. A more treacher-
Gus face it would be hard to imagine, and
more unromantic figure never was seen.
The man was plainly in fear of what was
coming, and he sneaked glances of appeal
constantly at the Sheriff. The prisoner was
Henry Fields, an ex-member of the Grand
Army of the Republic, former soldier in
he Ninety-fifth Pennsylvania Volunteers,
aud seaman on an American gunboat. He
was convicted of stealing shawl worth SO,
and was sentenced to ten lashes and three
months in Jail.
g l don't allow as I'm guilty." he whim-
pered for didn't manage to get away with
The shawl hadn't got out of the premises.
I'd like to know if you call that guilty ?n
Several jolly members of the Grand Army
were present, and they rubbed their hands
cheerfully when they saw the white bare
skin and urged the Sheriff to lay it on with
all his might. They declared that Fields
had got up pound party and had sold all
the goods collected from the guests. One
of the villagers begged the kind hearted
Sheriff to let him do the whipping.
When Fields was fastened to the post he
cast furtive, cur-like glance over his Shout
der at the whip. Then the tails went swish
ing and kissing. They hit the tender flesh
and made it red, but it was mere child's play
until the last stroke, and that was thu,np-
or. The muscles quivered and the lack
was bumped VI, as the prisoner danced on
his toes.