4. MALE PRISONERS.
Ed. Stanfield.—The history of this prisoner is as follows: He was
about nineteen years of age when he entered the prison, which was some
five years ago. His people reside in South Bend, Indiana. His father,
prior to his death, was a prominent judge. The family was wealthy,
influential and highly respected. It consisted of the parents and two
sons. Ed. proved to be the black lamb of the flock. At the early age of
nine years, being sent away to school, he bade all good-bye one day and
followed in the wake of a circus show which was holding forth in the
town where he was attending school, He was not heard of anymore for
several years. His parents spent vast sums of money attempting to
ascertain his whereabouts. They finally heard of him in the following
accidental manner: His father, Judge Stanfield, had been out in Nebraska
looking after some land he had recently purchased, and, on his return
home, sitting in the cars, purchased a newspaper of the newsboy as he
came around. Looking over the paper he caught the name
of his prodigal son. There, before him, was the account of his son who,
having knocked down a prosecuting attorney in broad daylight with a
coupling pin, with the intention of robbery, had been tried, convicted
and sentenced to the penitentiary for ten years, and was on that day
safely lodged behind the walls. The sad father, on reaching home,
dispatched his elder son to the Kansas prison to ascertain if it was his
younger son who was a convict. The young man came on and soon satisfied
himself of the identity of the long-lost brother. He returned home and
made the report to his parents. From that day Judge Stanfield was a
broken-hearted man. He soon grieved himself to death over the sad fate
of his boy, and the disgrace he had brought upon the family. In making
his will, however, he gave Ed. an equal share in the estate with his
brother. After the death of the father, the mother began to put forth
efforts to secure a pardon for her son. His crime was so heinous and so
uncalled for that it was necessary for some time to elapse before an
application was presented. At the earliest moment possible the wheel
began to turn. The prosecuting attorney of Bourbon County, who had been
knocked down with an iron coupling pin, was soon satisfied, for the
family had wealth. It is of course unknown how much money was passed to
him to make his heart tender and his eyes weep over the erring child
that had come so near getting away with his gold watch and chain. A
petition was soon in circulation for his release, signed by many
prominent citizens. An open pocketbook will easily secure a petition for
pardon, it makes but little difference as to the
gravamen of the
crime. The convict promised not to engage again in this pleasant pastime
for filthy lucre. The mother of the young man came on from the East and
remained until she had secured a pardon for her boy. The young man
stated in our hearing that it took one thousand big dollars to secure
his pardon. A great many who are acquainted with the facts in the case
are not slow in saying that if Stanfield had been a poor, friendless
boy, he never would have received a pardon, but would have had to serve
his time out. There are more than five hundred men in that prison whose
crimes are of a less serious nature, and who are far more deserving of
executive clemency than Stanfield. It is said that "rocks talk" in the
penitentiaries as well as on
the outside. The history of this criminal will show my boy readers the
future of many of those who, in early youth, ran away from home, and go
out into the world to mingle in bad company.
Cyrenius B. Hendricks.—This man was sent from Chatauqua County.
He was twenty-seven years of age when sentenced. His crime was murder
in the first degree. The particulars are as follows: He had been down to
the Indian Territory looking after his own and his father's cattle. He
was absent on this business some little time. On his return his wife
informed him that a neighbor had been talking about her in his absence,
and had given her a bad character, and that on account of it she had
become the talk of the entire neighborhood. The enraged husband compels
his wife to go with him, and they proceed to the neighbor's house.
Hendricks took his gun with him. When they reached the neighbor's gate
they halted and called the unsuspecting man out of his home. Hendricks
then asked him if the charges were true as to his talking about Mrs.
Hendricks. The neighbor neither affirmed nor denied the statement. At
this Hendricks leveled his gun and shot him dead on the spot. He
and his wife in a few hours after were arrested, and, as it was too late
to take them to the county seat that night, they were guarded in an old
log house in the neighborhood. Hendricks was fastened to the wall with a
log-chain. During the night some one, supposed to be the brother of the
murdered man, came to the window of the house in which they were
confined, and, placing the muzzle of a gun through the window, shot
Hendricks. The ball struck him near one of the eyes, rendering him blind
in that eye, but did not kill him. The next day the two prisoners were
taken to jail. They were tried, and both found guilty of murder in the
first degree. The husband was sentenced to be hanged, while the wife
received a life sentence. They were both taken to the penitentiary.
After they had been there a short time Hendricks lost the other eye,
from sympathy, as they call it. For a time the husband and wife remained
on good terms. They were allowed to visit each other once a month.
After a while she tired of him and would have nothing more to do with
him. She served four years, and received a pardon. Hendricks still
remains in prison, and is a pitiable and helpless wreck. He is totally
blind, and his
nervous system entirely shattered. He can scarcely lift food to his
mouth. He is so weak that it is with difficulty he walks about the
prison park. An aged prisoner waits on him constantly to care for his
wants, and to see that he does not commit suicide. Abandoned by his wife
and friends, left to his own sad fate, totally blind and physically
helpless, he is another testimonial to the truth that "the way of the
transgressor is hard," and it also illustrates how much trouble may
arise from using that little member called the tongue in an
indiscriminate manner. Since my discharge from the prison I have learned
of the death of Hendricks.
Ed. Miner.—One of the men whose history will be interesting to
the general reader is Ed. Miner. This man is forty-nine years of age.
He served in the Missouri penitentiary two years on the charge and
conviction of assault and battery with intent to kill. After the
expiration of his sentence, drifting down the current of crime, he next
embarked in stealing horses. He was arrested, tried and convicted. He
received a five years' sentence, served his time, and went out into the
world a free man. Again falling into bad company, he tries his
hand once more at the same old trade of riding fast horses, is again
caught, tried, convicted, and received another sentence of five years in
the prison, which he is now serving out. As a prisoner, Miner is one of
the very best. He never violates a prison regulation and was never known
to be punished. During the war he served his country faithfully for four
years as a member of the 12th Illinois Infantry. At the close of the
war, and just before the troops were discharged, one day on review, the
governor of the State of Illinois being present, Miner was asked by the
commanding officer to step from the ranks, and was introduced to the
governor as the bravest and most daring man in the command. The
governor gave him a hearty shake of the hand, and afterward sent him a
neat little golden medal as a token of his esteem. Miner now wears this
suspended on a small gold chain about his neck. He is very proud of it.
One of our prison officers, Mr. Elliott, was in the army with Miner, and
says there never was a braver man. It may be a surprise to the reader
that such a brave man, such a bold defender of his country's rights,
would now be filling a felon's cell. The answer to this is easily given.
It is all contained
in the one word—liquor. Miner loves strong drink, and when he is under
its influence appears to have no sense. He is then ready for the
commission of any offense, ready to participate in any kind of deviltry.
Were it not for this baneful appetite there is every reason to believe
he would be a highly respected citizen. I asked him one day what he
would do when he got out. His reply was, "I don't know; if I could not
get the smell of whisky I could be a man; it has downed me so many times
that I fear my life is now a wreck; the future looks dreary; awful
dreary." With this remark Ed. went away to attend to his duties. My
eyes followed the old soldier, and, reader, do you blame me when I say
to you that from within my heart there came forth the earnest desire
that God in some way would save that man, who, away from strong drink
and the influence of wicked companions, is a good-hearted, generous man.
Gordon Skinner.—A young man of twenty, possessed of an innocent,
boyish appearance, whom none would take for a murderer, was sent up from
Ellis County. His victim was Andrew Ericson, a respectable and worthy
citizen about thirty-seven years of age. Skinner
claims the shooting was purely accidental; that he was carelessly
handling a six-shooter when it went off, the ball striking Ericson. He
claims, also, that he and his victim were good friends, and that he
never had any intention of killing him. The other side of the story is
that there lived near Hayes City a beautiful girl, and that Skinner and
Ericson were rivals for her heart and hand. Ericson, being much older
than young Skinner, possessed of some property, and doubtless more
skillful in the art of winning hearts, was beginning to crowd his rival
to the wall. Young Skinner, not being able to endure the sight of his
fair one being thus ruthlessly torn away by an old bachelor of
thirty-seven, met him one day and the two engaged in a spirited
controversy, when Skinner drew his revolver and shot him. Ericson lived
several days afterward. Just before death, Ericson begged of his friends
not to have Skinner arrested, stating he was not to blame. Skinner,
moneyless, friendless, a comparative stranger in the neighborhood, his
people all residing in Phillips County, this State, and, with the
prejudices of the Ericson people against him, was tried, convicted and
sentenced to twenty years' imprisonment. If the Board of Pardons
ever takes the trouble to investigate this case, with a view of
tempering justice with mercy, they will find it worthy. Skinner is a
good prisoner, and has ingratiated himself in the good opinion of the
officers. But the weight of a twenty years' term is heavy, and is
visibly affecting his health. Death should not be left to accomplish
what the Board of Pardons should take pleasure in doing. This delicate
boy should be sent home to his parents.
