The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-11-10
IHCOMPREHENS|BLE INCIDENTS IN
THE CAREER OF A CONVICT.
BY w. Q. MORROW.

but for peculiar thing that happened sew
eral times. He never would say word II
he could keep from it, but on those occa-
sions of which / speak he would begin by
looking at ME strangely for long time
and suddenly looking away if l caught his
eve. did not like his look then. l knew
what it meant. In order to make certain
/ would try him by going closer, and then
/ could see him gasp and grind his teeth
and clench his fingers. He seemed to be
suppressing an almost uncomfortable i'm
pulse to spring at me and kill me, and |
knew that it would not do for me TO tempt
him too farm defense of my life l should
have to kill him.
"The Warden had said this to me: 1T
may be that he cannot resist the impulse
to Kill, but l have an idea that it is nothing
of the sort and that he has no such i'm
pulse at all. l think his whole plan is to
do something which will cause him to be
killed, and that he is trying to nerve him
self up to the task. Such things have been
done. The man is abnormally proud, and
he is determined not to spend his life in
this prison. If he should kill you he would
be tried for murder and hanged. That is
what he does not want to happen. He
wants to make us think that he will kill in
order to make US all the reader to kill him
If he attacks US. If he fails in that he will
make pretense of trying to escape, in
order that he may be shot. So you need
have no great fear of your life. In all this
| may be wrong, and it Is your duty to
keep the closest watch and not be too
ready to kill unless you are absolutely
sure that your life is in danger
80 kept these words of the Warden in
mind. But on one point l could not agree
with the Warden. The man did not act to
me as though he were trying to work up
his courage to make an attack, for | don t
believe that he had the smallest particle OF
cowardice in him. For that matter, what
he afterward did, as you are aware, was
proof that 1 was right-that he had no
conception of fear"
'Then what do you think was the real
nature of his struggle?' | asked.
II thought then it was purely moral
struggle of some sort"
murder your"
mo. OF course that document which
you have purports to explain it; but even
at that time, while l did not know what
was going on in the man, | believed that
he was struggling with himself to become
better man"
have given these statements, made by
two intelligent men of great experience, so
that it may not be said that / am trying
to make out case either for or against
this extraordinary prisoner.
The guard proceeded to say that finally
the man seemed to have won the victory
to his satisfaction. 1t came in rather a
dramatic. though quiet, way. The pris-
oner, while in the convalescent state, had
been placed in cell with another convict.
This convict reported the circumstance to
the guard, who told me about it. The
cellmate happened to be sympathetic
man and was touched by the despair in
which his companion was plunged. With
such crude art as was at his command he
sought to soften Garland's mind. This
evidently touched Garland. One day
when Garland had nearly recovered
strength his cellmate returned from the
prison factory and discovered that mar
velous change had taken place in his COM
panion. The guard thus reported it TO me
Instead of sitting with his head down
and moplng from morning till night he
was pacing the cell nervously. Smith, his
cellmate, felt a little uneasy, but Garland
welcomed him so warmly and wrung his
hand so cheerily and his face was so bright
and his eyes SO clear that Smith immedi-
ately changed his opinion. Garland said
to him: My friend, you have been man
and arfue friend, and | have been a sulk-
ing, surly dog. Forgive me, old man, and
let US be the friends that we ought to be-.
And then Garland sat down and cried
like child
From that day Garland was an utterly
changed man. OF course he was not
trusted all at once, and of course the War
den, the surgeon, the guards and Smith
watched HIM closely for 2 long time before
it was deemed safe to give him the liberty
OF the yard. This was all slow and gradual
work, but the end of it all was that in time
Garland became the best and most useful
man in the prison, Hnfailingly happy and
cheerful, invaluable as workman, the con-
slant friend and supporter of those convicts
who were down-hearted and ailing and
the stanchest supporter of order and dis
clpllne within the prison walls. The
authorities respected him and the pris-
oners loved him to a man.
The chronology of the story requires the
Introduction here of paper written by
him and found hidden in his cell long
after the terrible tragedy which brings the
mans history to close. 1t presents De-
culiar and partly foreshadowed feature of
the case, but its strange character cannot
be appreciated unless it is read in full. 1t
is as follows:
STATEMENT LEFT BY THE PRISONER.
If this writing should ever be found
as 1T must be when the discovery of the
need of certain minor repairs in my cell is
made-I trust that it will be given such
publicity as will operate to the greatest
benefit OF the race. For myself / care
nothing, for should it be published during
my lifetime some parts of it would not be
| believed and other parts would be miscon-
| strued. That it will not be found till
after my death-perhaps many years
after, though sure to be found sooner or
later-should be taken as proof that it Is
not written for my own benefit. That as.
sertion will be made clearer as this writing
proceeds.
! What human mind can imagine the
agonies which 1 suffered during my trial I
l shall make no attempt whatever to por
tray them; that, indeed, would be impos,
slble. 1t seems to me now like some dis
| tant, confused and monstrous dream. Al
| first l knew, as well as a sane and intelli
gent man can know anything, that l hac
not committed the deed. was as con
scious of my own innocence as the Judge
and jury who tried me were of theirs
And yet the evidence of my guilt was in
controvertible. Had I been a member O.
| that jury would have convicted any de-
fendant on the evidence which was pro
| duced against me.
| But it was so impossible for me to have
done this awful deed that / was forced tt
explain the evidence to myself at first or
the ground of mistaken witnesses anc
next on that of a conspiracy. These were
natural conclusions. But was compelled
| to abandon one and then the other; The
witnesses were unimpeachable men, they
were numerous, and their testimony wa.
wholly compatible with the circumstantla
| ovid in, T