Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-12-12
BETWEEN FOUR WALLS.
SERVING 4 LIFR-SENTgNcE.
ne 0sssse ss . Cssvset's Mina-Ise 1''"''
n Sss Iass Day NisAs rime OF fsr'e''
New York SUM-

ef hts Last Day Niaht Time o.
New York sum-
The iron doors In the high stone
wall which enclosed prison-yata snu
With q resonant snap behind sinai
party Of visitors. A..
Entering the premises, one oil IN,
party fell back with the turnkey, anc
Ave minutes later stood in Mario"
cali. locked in with man whose oody
the law would release only when death
should free his soul.
"You want to know something Of
my hfe," began the convict, taxing
without comment the visitors tobacco
and repeating his question, :" something
Of my mental life, as you put 1t
something Of the thoughts and feelings
Of q liie-conviet, ] suppose. You're a
rewspsper-man, you say. You would
mt me on the rack, like Prometheus OF
old, and paint q pen-picture OF my
agony that the public shall see and
eloat over while il admires your skill, "
he went on, with q curious expression
that had in it no despair, but certain
grim apathy, as il the features set
themselves mechanically to an emotion
the soul no longer evolved.
"Well." after q moments pause,
while the visitor stared In astonish.
ment at the prisoners language and
fluency. ~ am willing, but warn you
that 4 shall not writhe under the pro-
cess: YOU shall find no quiyeriDg IN
these barred nerves, no shrinking IN
these exposed and handled sensibilities.
Emotionally, sir, am as dead as |
shall be when, sooner or later, !
shall leave these narrow quarters for
another cell not SO very much narrower
and darker than is this one, whose
earthly door shuts no closer and no
more inevitably than that iron one
there.
alt is month now" he continued,
"oyer twenty years since i crossed
the threshold Of this prison and was
entered upon its records as life-con-
Wet. II was a little past midsummer
in the yesr, aud we came a days jour
pey from The county-seat of the scene
of my crime. am in, as you know,
for homicide. Every incident of that
day--my last in the worlds indeli-
bly, printed upon my memory. We
started very early. The dew was
heavy upon the grass as we drove from
the Jail and over the hills to take the
train. remember just how the sun
shone through the gray mist rising from
the river, and l remember | hoped
the fog rolling so swiftly up from the
valley would lift before we reached
certain elevation, whence feeting and
distant view Of my boyhood home
could be had. II did lift. | looked
down the vista Of forest and river, and
saw distinctly the wooded hill against
whose side and at whose feet nestled
the little village where was born.
White stones in the graveyard glistened
in the oncomipg sunlight. On one
besdstoDe was sure the rays were
falling like benediction, glad to shine
on her grave that day rather than the
living face of one whose life would be
forever sunless had she lived TO greet
that mornings light.
The day grew hot toward noon
the fresh ride Of the morning was fol-
lowed by tedious railroad trip. We
seemed always TO be rushing through a
dry and uninviting country. The
bushes and grass in the meadows by
which We sped were dusty and gray, the
streams were dried, and the bare stones
lay white and hot in the midday glare.
The men who accompanied me were
gruflly kind, remember, and the peo-
pie on the cars did not bother me much
with their curiosity. felt all day long
as if were lifted away from the mass
of msnkind-we had nothing in COM
mon, and at that time l was not i'm
pressed that the balance was in their
favor. At nightiall We reached here.
l bad little sense Of curiosity and ex-
citement at the novelty Of my expert.
ence during my official retention and
initiation--even when, duly recorded,
bathed, shaved, and clad in the prison
suit, stepped out into the stone corri-
dor a life.convict. examined the in
terror arrangements with much the
same feeling of curious inspection that
you did to. day in your walk to my cell,
and suffered myself to be locked in
still possessed of that sense of uuim-
personal interest in what was going on.
at was not much after 8 o'clock
when | reached my cells O'Clock on
q Thursday evening in the late summer
of the year 1865 repeated the pris-
oner without rising infection" that
] began my first night in hell. For as
the sound Of the turkeys retreating
footsteps died away, and the long cor
ridor settled into the nights stiffness,
all the shadowy drapery Of my fate fell
away, and for the first time the truth
presented itself in all its awful strength.
am college-bred man, and j was tho
athlete Of my class. ] was twenty-eight
years old, and rs ] stood that night
ciipeipg in my despair to the
iron rods Of my cell door, every
nerve and muscle Of my robust frame
thrilled withphysical power. Mentally,
too, was not deficient. | had my
hopes and Ambitions like other men,
and little while before | had looked
forward to the years which Should
bring me the gifts Of fame and fortune
on no meagre scale. My guilt was no
Of n nature to grant me even the solac'
Of remorse. l scarcely knew the mar
had killed. II was bar-room brawl
u sudden flaming Of temper, furiou
onslaught in hot blood, and all wa
done. The deed | could deplore tn
man dead could not mourn. Their
was nothing TO temper or even direc
my despair. Like wise it held IN
while the hours crept on, my stron
frame trembling in it's force, with onl
an occasional moan breaking from N
lips.
The prisoner paused. He moistene
his lips a little and passed one han
lightly down his face.
1.-THE first year such nights wei
many. BY perfect health was again
me. The regular hours and consta
exercise kept me strong Of limbs al