Year: 1877

A Murderer Is Hanged In a Vision.
u detroit Correspondence N. Y. Herald.I
L Had Belcher, the Essex County, Or


tario, murderer, been executed on tn


2lst of December, as sentenced, it woul,


have been his second execution


If this assertion reads strangely, it


capable of such an explanation as will


render it perfectly plain.


Belcher is a cool man. He stained hi


hands with human blood only after h,


had broooded over his wrongs weeks ant


weeks, and only after he had come to tht


conclusion that his own life was bur


den. He scarcely attempted defense


when his trial came on. He could have


secured witnesses whose testimony would


have influenced the jury in his favor


mone or less, but he would not send fol


them. He could have made statement


excusing his crime in a measure and


showing that he had been deeply


wronged, but he would scarcely speak.


When the Judge put on the black cap


and sentenced Belcher to be hanged, the


murderer exhibited less emotion than any


other person in the court room. 1t was


only after he had been ironed hand and


foot and placed in the murderer's cell in


the grim Jail at Sandwich that he seemed
to realize his situation.


cts all right; I'll be there when
wanted" he grimly observed, and he
talked freely with the numerous journal
lists who sought interviews.


There were few residents of Essex
County who wanted an execution to
take place. The county has not had one
for years, and the influence of the anti
capital punishment people of Michigan
is strongly felt along the border. Steps
were soon taken to secure communication
of sentence. Belcher was apathetic at


first, being more inclined to put the
ncOse over his head than to cast it from
him. There came a reaction. Perhaps
the winter sunshine pouring through the
corridor warmed his heart at the same
time. He could hear the merry shouts
of the boys as they slid down hill or
skated on the river below, and the musi-
cal jingle of the sleigh bells could not be
kept out by the massive walls. Belcher
wanted to live. He wrenched at his
irons with the strength of a giant, and
called out because the hours and days
were flying 30 swiftly. lie besought
the press to plead his case; he called for
lawyers; he remembered that he had
witnesses. The strong man broke down
and became a child, and every day, and
every hour, outside of his sleep, he
thought of the grim gallows, the fatal
moose, and he saw himself dangling in
the air. Three days before the reprieve
came he said he would die game; but
he said it with face as white as snow
and every nerve trembling with fear.
Had he been taken to execution he
could not have walked alone, and he
would have sunk down on the trap. All
Essex County were at last working in
his IavOr. Petitions were circulated,
mass meetings held, and an irresistible
influence was brought to bear on the
Governor General. Belcher hoped and
feared. Reprieves are not so common in
Canada that murderers in the shadow
of the gallows can rely on them and keep
their courage up. When Sheriff, and
Warden, and the murderer were count
ing the hours, the reprieve came. Bel
cher escaped the gallows, but the doors
were to close on him for life.
1t was evening when the news came, and
when the telegram was read to him he
could not utter word.


An hour before the sun went down the
Jail was very quiet. 1t is always so when
the shadow of death holds the keys.
Belcher paced up and down, his face hag-
gard and worn and his eyes wearing such
a look as one never sees outside the
prison walls. Out in the courtyard men
were at work, not at the gallows, but at
some repairs. Belcher believed that the
scaffold from which he was to swing was
being erected, and his heart must have
stood still as he heard the hammer and
saw at work. Leaning against the wall,
his eyes fixed OH vacancy, the murderer
suffered all the pain that real execu-
ton could infict. Some of the prisoners
were watching him. They saw him
hold out his hands for the Sheriff to re-
move the irons. They saw him kneel
in prayer. They saw him arise and look
around as if following the officials to the
gallows. He looked up as if surveying
the swaying moose, and shudder passed
over him.


The prisoners could read his thoughts
as plainly as if he had written them
down. In Imagination he mounted the
gallows. He looked at the moose again
and suddenly jerked his head aside, as if
the rope had touched him. He bent
bis head as if to have it passed over and
frightened about his neck. When he
stood as if waiting for the trap to
spring, his face was no longer pale it
was so livid and distorted that almost
every line of humanity was crushed out
of sight. The trap fell, and with an
awful gasp, n shout, scream of agony,
Belcher fell to the floor, his tongue pro-
trudiDg, his eyes open and CLASSY, and
froth oOzing from his mouth. 1t was
quarter of an hour before he was fully
and his first words we're:


"Oh, God but how the rope cut into
my neck!'


1t was another fifteen minutes before
the man could be convinced that his
execution was imaginary. He had suf-
fered all that a hangman's victim suffers,
and in piteous tones he cried out, while
the tears ran down his face:


Don't hang me again Oh, my throat
is so sorep


He had on wooden shirt, fitting
loosely around his neck. They unbut-
toned the collar, turned 1t down, and
there was bright red mark clear around
the throat.


Facts only are stated here, and men
may theorize as they feel inclined. That
mark did not die away for thirty hours,
and the murderer complained of swollen
tonsils and sore throat. His reprieve
came only after he had been hanged,
and yet it saved his life.


Filial ResDect.