The Sunday herald. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1866-1887, 1885-08-23
TOLDIN THE CONDEMNED CELL.

was led from the dock TO the condemned
cell in n state OF stdpor. The result Of the
trial was not uuex peoted--tle evidence for
the prosecution had been too complete 10
leave much doubt on that point---but the
suspense during the short retirement Of the
jury, tbs solemn tones Of the Judge pro-
nouncing my. doom, deprived me for the fine
being OF all mental feeling. | was ms one
walking in his sleep.
evidence TO bring forward. My own mouth
was, of course, closed, and from the nature
of the case against me my counsel had TO
rely on shaking the evidence of the Crown
witnesses (Which he failed 10 do) in cross
examination, and on urging on the jury the
absence OF motive.
Vain effort eloquent as was his speech.
With merciless precision the judge in his
charge went over the evidence against me,
recalling each damuing fact which had been
sworn 10, aud reminding the jury that no
attempt had been made at contradiction.
What the judges opinion was no one could
doubt, aud the jury promptly Endorsed IL
with their verdict.
And yet I was innocent
How passed the frat night In the con-
demned cell know not. My mind was
blank. l suppose slept, but was troubled
with no dreams, and the morning brought
me no hopeful thoughts. Could I not hope
for mercy, You ask for Communication Of
The dread sentenceY | am no lawyer, but
my own sense told me that under the cir
cumstances there was not "a loop hole for
escape. II we're guilty, richly deserved
hanging, for a more cold blooded murder
had not been heard of In England for many
years. No, there was no hope Of mercy I'M
less could show that some Of the witnesses
for the prosecution had sworn falsely.
But they had spoken truly-not one Of
them was perjured, as myself well knew.
During the day was visited by my solicit
tor--he came to see me about petition he
was preparing to the Home Office for q COM
mutation Of the sentence, or, alternatively,
respite sufficient to give time for my friends
Of my Innocence.
He assured me Of his personal belief in my
Innocence, and promised to leave no stone
unturned 10 save ME from violent death.
81 want you," he said on leaving the cell,
ITO try and compose your mind, and write
down the whole story, SO far as you are per-
sonally concerned, tearing out no circumstance,
kotceper fripidl."
did my best 10 follow his advice. tried
to recall to my memory every incident of that
terrible night and still more terrible morn
ing. What the effort cost me no poor words
Of mine canld give the reader the faintest
idea. Suffice 1t TO say that before I again
saw my solicitor the whole story was i'm.
pressed on my mind with startling vivid.
ness. In cases of murder Il ia very
frequent circumstance for the convict to dc.
clare from the scaffold itself that he remem.
bers nothing of the crime for which he ia
about to die-a declaration which may in
many instances be perfectly trne. Many, IT
not most crimes of violence are committed
under the combined influence of drink and
intense passion; the perpetrator knows not
what he is doing, and only realizes his awful
position whom in the solitude Of the police
cell.
With myself the case was different. ain
habitually abstemious certainly on the
night Of the murder was perfectly sober.
Though the looking back therefore was pain
ful, my memory had no obstacles in its way !;
l was able to remember every movement,
every word spoken, from the time entered
the little way side inn TO the moment when
was led from 1t prisoner charged with
murder. The advice TO commit the nara
tive to writing was unnecessary; told my
story ricd roce, without break or hesitation,
the solicitors clerk taking it down in short
hand.
During a summer ramble In one of the
pleasantest parts of the eastern counties
came quite unexpectedly on a small cluster
of cottages Of so picturesque an appearance,
and with such an old world air abont them,
that determined to prolong my stay for q
few days. My first step was to secure lodg
ings strange to say there were none TO be
had, at least none that cared to engage
About five minutes walk from the village
was small inn or public house, to which
last was fain to bstake myself and beg the
favor OF bsdr room for few days.
The landlord scratched his head doubt.
fully.
81 don't think, sir" he said respectfully,
that We have a room to spare.''
said was not particular us to accommo.
dation--a sofa might serve for bed, and |
mentioned liberal terms.
lyon may see the only apartment we can
spare. It's not much to look at, but as you
say you will be out OF doors all day, par.
haps that won't matter very much.''
Gladly reassuring him upon that point,
accompanied him up flight Of rather rickety
stairs, and was shown into q room scantily
furnished and dimly lighted. The anti.
quatsd sofa was told would be utilized as
bed, and my meals might be partaken Of In
the landlords private parlor. So far the ar.
expect than to be under the circumstances.
closed with mine hosts offer and at once
took up my quarters at the Travellers
Rest"
Setting aside the roughness of the furni-
ture and the dinginess of the apartment,
there WAS not much in the position to cause
discomfort to young man who was content
with the homslest fara aud spent most of
his time out Of doors. In two days was
quite at home in Travellers Rest" and on
speaking terms with most of the cottagers.
So far the weather had been all that could
be desired bright, sunshiny days were fol-
lowed by refreshingly cool nights. On the
fourth day, however, an atmospheric change
took place. The sky was cloudy In the
morning-by the afternoon II was raining in
torrents.
Nothing more cheerless can be imagined
than the interior of q waysidsinn ON rainy
day. l had not incumbered myself with
books. and the newspapers which arrived with
varying regularity from the nearest market
town were not very lively reading. Before
10 o'clock | was thoroughly Clipped"
and bstook myself to bed with the mental
resolution that II the weather did net i'm
prove by the morning would be of bag
and baggage directly after breakfast.
must have slept some three hours, when
was aWaken6u ny knocking al the door,
and request for admission. II was the
landlord, as knew by the voice. opened
the door.
~ am sorry to disturb you, sir" he said,
but there's a gentleman just come In 10
ask for nights shelter. Hs has been caught
In the storm, poor fellow, and is drenched to
the skin.''
~ am afraid can't assist him." An.
swered. Z" have brought NO change Of any
thing but linen with me-"
It's not that, sir. He Is drying himself
atthe kitchen fire, aud will soon be all right
But cannot turn him out such night as
THU
every well-let him remain. / suppose
he will pay you ~
But where am TO put him 7" asked
Boniface .appealingly; "this is the only
room"
"Thisl Why you don't expect me- 10
turn ont Of my bed, do you, for perfect
stranger 7"
"Oh, dear no, SIR" said the man eagerly /;
"but would you have any objection to his
lying on the floor till tho morningf lie
seems like to drop with fatigue, and won't
mind the hardness of the boards, Pm sure"
At first gave Hat refusal but the inn