º ||\！|\|//|//|\！|\|//|//|\<\\//：/;№ſº|| || .>-º.|-||-№£||-|- |--- - ））||| №-|-ºſ|ſs）：）|-，|-s） №/，/№ N. N// º / º / / / M // N. -- - - - - Nº sº. lºsº/ - Sº Nºsºmsº Nºs. º - - - - --- - º - sºlº sº- ſ - º - º/ LIBRARY University of Michigan WILLIAM L. CLEMENTS | .| 7Gº ſº º №.// / ， , ， ， ， , ， , ， ） （ ） | | | | | | | |│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ \， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， （ ） （， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， , （， ， ， ， , ， ， ， ， , ， ， , ， , ， ， , , , , │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │^ ^ „ / / / / / / / / / / / / / . ， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， ， \，\!// №. \º/|\<\/[\s，.\/º // | | | | | | | | |│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ |：|：：|| №№， №， º Nº. M. sº º º º º's º / º º/s sº ^ N º º ſº º º // º // º/ . N// N// // ^ º º N ſº N // º º/ N º º V N. ^ - T // º º N. º º N. º N º º º N. N N º N// N ^ º/ º N// N// º º/s N// N// - // - - - - - - - SARAH M. Victor. -- THE LIFE STORY OF SARAH M. VICTOR FOR SIXTY YEARS. CON VICTED OF MURDERING HER BROTHER, SENTENCED TO BE HUNG, HAD SENTENCE COMMUTED, PASSED NINETEEN YEARS IN PRISON, YET IS INNOCENT. T O L D BY HERSEL F. L’homme propose, et Dieu dispose. CLEVELAND, O : 1888. DEDICATION. TO ALL WORKERS IN THE CAUSE OF HUMANITY, HOWEVER HIGH OR HOWEVER LOW THEIR STATION, THE Foster ERs of TRUTH, THE BINDERS UP OF WOUNDS, THE LIFTERS UP OF THE HAPLESS, THE ONES WHO FAIL NOT IN TIME OF NEED, THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED. AUTHoR. - - - - - - - PREFACE. OON after Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, the lady by whose dictation this book has been written, arrived in this city from Columbus, I was called on by a member of the Women's Christian Tem- perance Union and asked if I would meet the for- mer, as she was in need of some assistance in my line of work. I consented to do so, and accord- ingly went to the lady's house, where I met Mrs. Victor. Upon talking with her and asking what her prospects for the future were, after her long im- prisonment, she told me that she had that day put the matter of the recovery of some property into the hands of an attorney, but was as yet without money, and all work for her would have to be gratuitous. I remarked that such had been my understanding of the matter, and assured her that if she would tell me how I could assist her, she need feel under no obligation to me. She then spoke of needing some assistance in regard to some newspaper notices, and incidentally men- 5 6 PREFACE. tioned the fact that she had already commenced to write her life. I at once told her that she had mentioned something in which I saw a way to assist her, and that if, upon further acquaintance with each other, she should think best to accept my assistance, and I should conclude to undertake her work, I thought the public would freely give her aid, for which she would be rendering an equivalent in the experience of her many years of imprisonment. At first I had no knowledge and no well-defined idea of whether Mrs. Victor was guilty or inno- cent of the crime she had been convicted of, but I felt certain, from her appearance, that, if guilty, the “sackcloth and ashes” of nineteen years had done their work well, leaving no sin unatoned, and no guile in the heart they chastened. But after I undertook the work and had been given a portion of the matter to be written out, I began to see signs of innocênce that seemed un- mistakable. No matter what piece of writing I took up, whether some triangular scrap of brown paper upon which the words seemed traced by a hand with but a thread of life to guide it, a full page of foolscap more legibly written, yet by the PREFACE. 7 same hand, or a letter from some person of known responsibility, I was sure to find it but another chapter in a story that was not of guilt. I looked for contradictions, and found none; I fancied evasions, and had them explained in a moment, without time for thought; and as the days went on, a sense of the awfulness—I can use no other word—of the wrong that had been suf- fered grew into fullness in my mind. Before the book was half written my work became a pleas- ure, from the fact that I felt certain beyond the possibility of doubt that I was telling the true experience of a kind, truthful woman, who had suffered from a form and degree of inhumanity that ought never again to disgrace the annals of a city or state. I am aware that in giving words to this story of another it has been impossible to avoid leaving many traces of the personality of the writer, but I wish to assure the public that not an assertion or statement made by Mrs. Victor has been changed in meaning, and nothing been given false coloring by me. The story is emphatically that of Mrs. Victor, while the wording alone is mine. All mat- ter accredited to others will speak for itself. 3 PREFACE. With a hope that the public will respond to this effort of Mrs. Victor to pass in comfort the few years that may remain to her now that her fear- ful ordeal is over, and may lose sight of the imper- ſections of the writer's work in the interest of the story, this book is respectfully submitted. HARRIET. L. ADAMs. Cleveland, Ohio. CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER I............................................................................ In Southern Ohio–Death of the Baby—Falling in the River —A Great Calamity—Lost his Reason—My Recollec- tions—A Long Journey–Slept in the Wagon-Lonely Watches — My Father Found — Selling Fruit — My Mother Sick–Put Out—Some Whippings–Neighbor Families—My Playmates—When in Prison—Father in Canada–Go Back Home. CHAPTER II.......................................................................... Losing the Way—Among the Shakers—Where's Ma—Join- ing the Church—The Faith that Solaces—“Taken”— Queen of the May–My Dear Mother—The Baby May Need You—A Costly Charge–Some Thoughts–First Letter—Dead–Apprenticeship—To My Own Resources – Homesickness—Going to the Lake—A Brother in Christ—My Father's Return. CHAPTER III......................................................................... First Ride on Lake Erie—My Mother's Grave—Liquor and Fate–Fifty Cents per Week—Theft of a Candle–Try- ing to Restore It—Going to Kirtland–Tell Me All About It—Much Disappointed–Dr. Ackley–Illness of My Sister–Goes to the Asylum—A Letter from Friends –Go West–On the Steamer–Very Seasick—Kind Pas- sengers—Finding a Bottle–Fort Mackinaw—In Port. 25 38 51 9 10 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV......................---------------------------------------------------- 62 On the Wharf at Milwaukee–Hunting for Farmers–Fifty Miles–For a Dollar–An Ox Team—Old Connecticut— Too Much—A Kind Lady—It Won't Hurt It—Old Um —A Log Church–My Future Husband—Honey Parties —Engaged—Wolves—Letter Postage—The Wedding— Chivarari–Married—A Cap for a Hen–Diligent Biddy —Never a Brood Hen. CHAPTER V........................................................................... 78 Heavy Work–Disappointed–Going to Housekeeping–Out- fit—A Shadow—Pleasant and Lively—A Treacherous Friend–Violence—No News from the East–Birth of First Boy—Go to Cleveland–Had Run Away–Tricks of Students—Husband's Arrival—A Quilting Party– Chicken-pox—Baby Very Sick—Thought in No Danger —My Baby Dead. - CHAPTER VI......................................................................... 92. A Second Son–Move to Cleveland—Not Sick, But Drunk— A Lady Boarder—Joking of a Trick—Visit to Father Smith's—Return Home – Away All Winter–Neither Money nor Food—A Minister's Call—Work—Some Hot Buns–Sewing—Go to Toledo–Not Sick, But Destitute —Would not Work—A Letter-box—“He’’—A Young Girl—Fear for My Life. CHAPTER VII........................................................................ 106 Visit from Father Smith–Takes His Son Home–Child Born–Another Wife-Go to Chicago—Finding the Cer- tificate——Renewed Promises—Reconciliation—Return to Cleveland–Hard Beginning–Looking for Help-Get- ting Out of Debt–Letter from My Husband–Go to Janesville—Excitement--Comes Home–In Fear—With a Hackman—Comments. CONTENTS. 11. PAGE CHAPTER VIII........ ............................................................. 119 Acquaintance with C. C. Carlton–Insult-Paying a Bill- The Rock and the Whirlpool–Divorce–Break Up Housekeeping—Some Business Matters—Is He Not Too Old–Drifted On–Buying a Stove—Change of Name- A Door-plate—House Caught Fire–Suffocated—Mys- tery of the Fire–How it Caught—My Child's Confes- sion—Intimations. - CHAPTER Ix.…................................. 132. My Daughter—Seeing the Absurdity—A Sensational Re- port–Daughter's Marriage—My Boy's Last Illness- Measles—Predicting His Own Death—Prediction Ful- filled—Six o'Clock—A Negative Taken—An' Epitaph— A Picture–Three Years Ago–An Act of Kindness— There, In a Prison—Sixteen Years—Fertility of Brains —A Bitterness—Before He Calls Me. CHAPTER X.......................................................................... 144. A Determination—Going to See Mr. Smith—The Interview —Foreboded No Good—A Regret—Return to Cleveland –Meeting with Mr. Carlton—A Question—Utterly False –Sent a Man to Chicago—“Read This at Your Lei- sure”—Resolution Put Away—A Trip Through the East–West Point–St. Catherines—Montreal—Why I Lay Bare the Incidents. CHAPTER XI....................... .................................................. 156. More at Ease—An Error Corrected—Working in the Church—Buying Lots—My Sister Libbie—Marries Dr. Gray—Working for the Soldiers—My Brother's Enlist- ment—“The Boys”—A Will Made–Getting the Life Insurance–The War Closes–Pawned His Watch— Going to Mr. Fenner's—A Fall in the Barn–Accident Insurance—Paying the Physician—Remarks. 12 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII....................................................................... 170 º A Young Lady Dies—Loaning Some Money—A News- paper's Work – A Genuine Artist — Same Fiendish Woman—A Warning—A Matron's Work—What Can be Believed—Dr. Dellenbaugh's Statement—All Supposi- tion—No Grounds for Suspicion—Conclusive Evidence —The “Mills of the Gods”—Wedding Clothes—Will She Come Back—Not Safe Alone—Arsenic as a Tonic. CHAPTER XIII...................................................................... 181 About Mr. Newel—Startling Tales—Becoming Disgusted— Mrs. Sigsby—Mrs. Baker's Confession—Saw the Mur- der--A Certain Powder–Slipped on the Door-step—Ate Some Pie-Taken Ill—Died—Very Despondent— Re- quests While Ill—A Class of Students—Anonymous Letters—By Whom Written–In Whose Interests—A Request—Seeming Craftiness. CHAPTER XIV...................................................................... 194 My Arrest—The Inquest–First Night in Jail–Friendly Mice–Morning–Personal Property—Mr. Castle—En- gaging an Attorney–Do As I Tell You—Torturing IDoubts – Know Him P I Guess I Do-Mr. Palmer– Strength Fails—Dr. D. H. Beckwith–Thanks—An Ex- planation—Strange Counsel–Too Weak to Walk—The Indictment—Was Amazed—Faint and Confused. CHAPTER XV........................................................................ 2O7 Testimony and Answers—Loren Myers—Some Confusion— George Ridgeway—The Coffin-plate–W. B. Stedman— Remains–Proctor Thayer—The Undertaker Not Called –Annie Miller–Pie-Arsenic for Rats—Called Her His Friend—About the Poison—Remarks of Counsel–J. W. Towner— A Verbatim Report–Felix Nicola – That Turnover–R. H. Strobridge-Jay Odell. - CONTENTS. 13. CHAPTER XVI.......................................................…: 222. A Place at Euclid–Three Hundred Dollars—On Thanks- giving—James W. Lee–E. W. Fenner—About Changing Doctors—Mary Davis—Eliza Welch–Ida Weily—Heart Disease–Lyman D. Hunt—A Ring—“Take It and Kill Yourself”—Hannah Newel–Fainting at the Grave- Jared P. Newel—See Files—See Register—J. G. Black Paid–All Expenses. CHAPTER XVII..................................................................... 237. Libbie Gray—Could not Read or Write–Morphine on Fri- day—Cry and Hollo–Would Have Two Doctors—On Sunday P. M.–On Tuesday – Reply – Whisky and Water—At the Funeral—Never Mind–Taking a Boy— Selling a Lot-Went to Newel's—“Sailed My Last Trip” – Edwin Tolson–In Great Agony—“A Kind of Sleep”—Insinuations—Chloroform—A Sinking Spell. CHAPTER XVIII................................................................... 252. Dr. Sapp—A Mistake in His Papers—Threw Chloroform Away—Answer-Veratrum–In No Danger–Went to Doctor's Office–Annie Fenner–Gave Back a Ring—Dr. S. R. Beckwith—Examined William Parquet—A Certifi- cate—Of Date of Policy—C. C. Carlton–About Insur- ance–The House on Webster Street–Can Now Thank God—William A. King—J. W. Thomas—N. Merrill. CHAPTER XIX...................................................................... 265. J. L. Cassels–Something of His Analysis—Quoted Testi- mony—Answer—See All the Features—Called by the Defense—From the Record—Results of the Analysis-- Summing It Up-Regarding a Motive—Lose Conscious- ness-A Verdict Given—A Fitting Climax—The Sentence of Death–Different Ideas—My Own Views—For Eter- nity to Solve—Copy of Asylum Record. 14. CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER XX....................................................................... 281 Judge Ranney's Letter—Hon. Joseph Perkins—Queer Chem- istry—A Deputy Sheriff – A Bank-book—J. Gaskill— Not Guilty—From Mrs. Gaskill—Always Thought He Would—Mrs. L. E. French–Some Crime Committed— An Offset—“Justice”—Remarks—“Diabolical Efforts” —Eminent Counsel—A She Devil–Weighed Sixty Pounds —Passing Sentence—An Omission. CHAPTER XXI...................................................................... 294, No Ill Feeling—Stubborn Wills—Hard Life of Prison Offi- cials—First Thoughts that Came—Looking in a Mirror — Hallucination—The Soul of Kindness—Breaking a Knife—Crept Under the Bed—General Walcutt–Colonel Burr–Colonel Innis—Paralysis—Near Death—Buck- wheat Cakes–Would Never Die There–Penitentiary Wedding—Annie McFarland—A Fire in the Prison–A Nurse's Devotion. CHAPTER XXII.................................................................... 309 Preferred Hanging—Examining a Bed—Such is Prison Life – Habeas Corpus–Hon. George L. Converse–Judge Bingham—Decision Reversed—Captain Groves—Gover- nor Allen–“Loose Talk”—Woman at Fremont–Mrs. Hayes—“A Wicked Lie”—Mrs. Groves—The Rule of Silence—How it was Broken—A Matron Beaten—At the Hands of a Man—Warden McWhorter–Some Threats. CHAPTER XXIII................................................................... 323 Warden Dyer—The “Humming-bird”—By the Order of a Woman–Roughly Handled—Facts, No Fiction—Soli- tary Confinement—“Suckers”—A Note—Investigation — Released—One Just Woman–Governor Bishop.– Some Ladies–Teller Letter – “In Confidence”— For Twenty Years—Blood-curdling—Lacked Courage—The Pardoning Governor—Only Regret—When it is too Late. CONTENTS. 15 PAGE CHApter XXIV................................................................... 336 A Reign of Kindness—Humming-bird Banished-Few Pun- ishments–St. Paul's Words—A Card of Thanks—Re- stricting the Diet –Washing – Demanding Bread– Fever and Thirst– The “Cup of Cold Water”—The Matron Dies—“I Thought So"—Governor Foster— Bad Messenger–Starting a Liberty Fund–Remarks— He Cried—Thanks for Help-Elections—Warden Peetry –Holidays–First Arrests—A Governor's Promise. CHAPTER XXV.................................................................... 354 “On New Year's Day”—Kindness Appreciated—Thoughts of a Prisoner—Gems—Seeing a Ghost—James A. Dean– Prison Letter Head–Liberties Granted–Rules of the Female Department—The Parole Law—Rules Adopted —Form of Parole–Form of Guaranty–Degrees of Mur- der—A Seeming Absurdity—Why Not Give All a Chance —A Woman's Reasoning–From a Prisoner's Letter— Remarks—“God Pity the Wretched Prisoners.” CHAPTER XXVI................................................................... 372 An Eventful Change—A Good Warden and Wife—A Wise Matron–The Ladies Take Courage—Not Elated—Of Newel–Fears of Defeat— All Before the Governor— Night Before Pardon—Great Mental Strain–Free – Packing Up-A Christmas Tree—Last Farewells—Out- side the Walls–Some Unreality—At the House—Eating at a Table — A Reporter — Rest – About Governor Foraker–Messages–First Going Out. CHAPTER XXVII Mrs. DeSellem Speaks—Helpless as a Babe-Traces of Suf. fering—For Christ's Sake—Listening at the Cell–Wait- ing for the Verdict—Divine Assurance–Holding a Lec- ture-Simeon's Works Repeated—What Mrs. Taylor 16 - contRNTs. PAGE- Says—Doubts of Guilt—General Characteristics–News- - paper Opposition—“We Knew Better”—Mrs. Pettit’s Experience—R. B. Hayes–Mrs. Griffith's Work—Hoadly —With Tearful Eyes. CHApter XXVIII................................................................ 402 Rev. I. H. DeBruin’s Statement—Observations—“Tell Them I am Innocent”—Charge not Sustained—Statement of G. S. Innis—“I am not Guilty”—Grave Doubts of Guilt—Miss Houk’s Statement—Good and True—News- paper View—Mrs. Jones' Statement-Kind and Upright —Belief in Innocence—Home yet Open–Casting the First Stone—Cincinnati Enquirer–Ohio State Journal —Columbus Sunday Herald. CHAPTER XXIX................................................................... 423. Letter from Warden Coffin—Worthy of Kindness—He who Tempers the Wind–Letter from the Matron–Not An Easy Task-Insurance Company Unpaid–The Life Lease – Letters Unanswered – Compelled to Go to Cleveland–Kindness of Friends—A Merciful Hand– Going to Cleveland–Sad Memories—This is the Place— Mr. Carlton Refuses—Engage an Attorney–Engage a Writer–Last Words to Friends. INTRODUCTION. LTHOUGH my recollections date back to the time when I was four or five years of age, a considerable part of my life is almost an entire blank to me; and of that time of mental oblivion I shall attempt to give no full account. I was, also, never accurate in regard to dates, and except those that have been burned into my memory by the torture of false accusation and judgment, and that on which, through the persistent efforts of friends toward whom the gratitude I feel cannot be expressed by words, and the justice of that grand, clear-sighted, Christian man, Governor Joseph B. Foraker, I walked out from behind prison walls a free woman, I find it difficult to recall them. But facts — that is, those that occurred in my years of sanity—I can remember. The God who mercifully took from me the power of connected thought when the unspeakable horror of a probable death upon the gallows, in the full consciousness of my entire innocence of the crime of which I was convicted, was before me, 17 18 - INTRODUCTION. has as kindly restored my reason, and has granted me power to look back over that dreadful time; and many of the events of even my early childhood I can recall minutely and distinctly. I have been told that among the various judg- ments of the many different persons to whom some knowledge of my case has come, it has often been said that my insanity was feigned. When such information first came to me I was in a prison cell, an invalid and partially helpless; and as I gazed in weakness and utter desolation on the massive walls that enclosed me, I remember of thinking, in a dazed and hopeless way, that they could not be more merciless than hearts that could prompt the utterance of such thoughts. Then came anguish of mind that I will not weary the reader by attempting to describe further than to say that I felt, as I was many times brought to feel, like doubting the goodness of the Father. But at last I found relief in tears and comfort in prayer, which, together, were my only solace when alone through all the years of my imprisonment, and I said then, as I say now, “God forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Since I regained my freedom I have often had cause to realize the fact that the INTRODUCTION. 19 outside world is not yet free from selfishness and injustice, and that it is far from being the realm of happiness and good cheer that it is in the imagina- tion of those who have been long in imprisonment, by contrast with the dull misery of the daily round of prison life, with its gazing at blank walls and ponderous doors; its sense of constant semi- twilight and lack of pure air; its thoughts of pun- ishments and the sufferings of others; and its occasional awakening of the mind to a conscious- ness of the insidious yet sure and deadly prison blight that is undermining the physical strength and creeping over the mental faculties. Yet, I have found so many kind and earnest #iends—so much of unselfishness and justice among thoughtful people, that I feel that none but the unthinking could have given expression to conjectures so unfounded, to say nothing of the unkindness of adding to the stigma already borne by any so unfortunate as to have lost their freedom. Through the uniform kindness of all the different prison officials and others in whose care I was during my long incarceration, which kindness was, I trust, quickened by the faith that I would not abuse any privilege given, I was granted greater 20 INTRODUCTION. liberty thanis accorded to convicts in general, and, consequently, had many opportunities to observe the effect of prison life on those around me, as well as note the causes that had led to their imprison- ment; and it may not be out of place for me to let the public know what conclusions were arrived at -- by one who “was there and saw.” While the effect of prison life is different to a certain extent on each individual, there is one fact so apparent as to be worthy of the consideration of all who may read this book—and that is, that long terms of imprisonment do not conduce to the reformation of any. No matter how guilty a person may be, each mind has been given its own limit of endur- ance, and, according to what I have seen, after that limit has been reached, no amount of chasten- ing has any other effect than to dull the senses and crush the soul of the one receiving it. To the inno- cent person convicted and thrown into a prison, I know by my own experience that every hour is felt to be a flagrant outrage; but among the guilty — and the majority of those into whose society I was thrown as a fellow convict, though in some cases not guilty of the particular crime for which they were imprisoned, were far from. INTRODUCTION. 21. innocent—I found that under all bravado and denial there was a sense of the justice of a certain amount of punishment. But I found, also, that penitence came sooner or later to nearly all; and it seems to me to be the duty of the public to first determine whether or not any official should have the power to blight a human soul, and if decided in the negative, which I feel sure would be the case in an enlightened country, then appoint com- missions to look into the matter of the length of term of prisoners, with a view to its proper ad- justment. - . In regard to the causes that had led to the im- prisonment of those around me, I can say that had it not have been for the evil of intemperance, I firmly believe that fully nine-tenths of all those, of both sexes, who were in the Columbus penitentiary when I recovered my reason; all those who came and went during the long years of my conscious confinement, and all those there at the time of my release would never have seen the inside of any place of punishment. When intemperance is not known to have been the cause directly, as it is in the greater number of cases, it takes but a very 22 INTRODUCTION. short time to find that it has been the cause in- directly. The above leads me to thoughts of the Women's Christian Temperance Union and its dear workers, of which and whom I wish to say afew words here. It would be impossible for me to recount the deeds of kindness of all the many members of the union who came to me at different times, but of many I can say not only, “I was sick and in prison and they visited me,” but they ministered to my physi- cal needs; they upheld my faith in Divine justice when it faltered; they again and again revived my dying hopes of freedom, and with unwearying faith and patience they stood by me till I at last saw the sunlight unobscured by prison bars. Although I owe a special debt of gratitude to those immediately interested in my welfare, I feel that to that union as a whole, with its far-reaching power in the reformation of the management of public institutions, I owe my life. When I awoke to the consciousness that I was a life convict in a prison, the same state of affairs did not exist in the Ohio penitentiary that existed at my release. With each succeeding administration I found the burdens of prison life lessened somewhat. For a long time INTRODUCTION. 23 I could not understand what force there could be in the outside world that could have the power to continue and constantly increase the improvement, regardless of what political party chanced to hold sway; and not until after my release did I begin to fully realize the extent of the work in the cause of humanity that has been done by the Women's Christian Temperance Union. In giving this, the full story of my life, to the public, I feel that much will be found dull and uninteresting to the reader, and I fear that much will call forth condemnation. But as I feel that much has been too long left to conjecture, for the good of others as well as myself, I give the whole, with the hope that while the public sees and cen- sures my errors, it will remember that I have suffered as few women have done. That the reader may understand at the outset that there will be no evasions of the question of my guilt or innocence in the following pages, I here and now say that I am as guiltless of the crime of murder, either in thought or deed, as any child who may chance to glance over these words. - In concluding these introductory remarks, I wish to say that every statement and assertion 24, INTRODUCTION. contained in this book and not otherwise accred- ited has been dictated by me, either in writing or verbally, and has been written out in exact accordance with such dictation. Nothing has been added to nor taken from the substance or meaning of any statement or assertion by the lady writing it, and all has been submitted to me for change or correction from time to time as it was being written and as a whole finally. SARAH M. Victor. CHAPTER I In SoutherN OHIO-DEATH OF THE BABY-FALLING IN THE River—A GREAT CALAMI'ry—Lost HIS REASON.—My REc- ollections—A LoNG. Journey–SLEPT IN THE WAGoN– LoNELY WATCHEs—My FATHER FOUND–SELLING FRUIt— My Moth ER Sick–PUT OUT-SOME WHIPPINGs—NEIGH- Bor FAMILIES.–My PLAYMATEs—WHEN IN PRISON.—FATHER IN CANADA—Go BAck Home. WAS born in southern Ohio, on the fifth of May, 1827, and was one of a family of nine children. My father was French, being born in Paris, France, and my mother was of German parentage, but born in this country. My father was, at the time of my birth, a man of consider- able wealth, for those days, and my first general recollections are of living with my parents and one brother and two sisters in Pickaway, Picka- way county, Ohio, where my father kept a store and owned real estate. Five children had been born to my parents at that time, but one had died before my birth. Our house was near the river (Miami), and I remember how I used to sit on its 25 26 THE LIFE STORY OF bank and watch the people as they fished from little boats or along the shore. My father and mother were kind parents to their children, and, although the country was new, and over fifty years ago lacked the comforts of later times, ours was a happy home. In the after years, as I looked out between the bars of a prison, but a few miles, comparatively, away from the scenes of my early life, and thought of that home, it may well be imagined that it seemed to my mental sight as might some highly colored picture of Eden. The first incident in my life, that I can recall, was the death of a little sister, the baby, which occurred when I was four or five years of age. I can see my dear mother now, as she bent over the little baby face, so white in death, and kissed it and cried over it; and I can remember my own grief and awe when some of the many people who came to the house told me that my little sister would be put in a box and buried in the ground, where I would never see her again. When they all went to the cemetery, which was but a short dis- tance from our house, I was left behind as being too young to understand the ceremony of burial; but I followed after them, and when I saw all the SARAH M. VICTOR. 27 people standing around the grave and saw the men putting the coffin in, my grief overcame me and I began to cry. But a lady came to me and helped me gather my apron full of flowers, which comforted my childish mind, and I soon forgot my sorrow and thought it was nice to have so many people notice and be kind to me. When we re- turned from the cemetery, I remember how my mother took me up and cried over and petted me and called me her baby, and afterwards, how my father would take me when he came into the house and “trot” me on his foot as he used to the baby. The next thing that I remember distinctly is coming very near being drowned by falling in the river. There was a foot-board secured by one end to the bank of the river at its nearest point to our house, on which the people used to walk out to dip up water for various uses, and upon which the children used to play by “jumping up and down” to watch the waves made by the commotion. One day a neighbor's little girl and I were amus- ing ourselves in that way, when we both lost our balance and fell into the water. Fortunately, my father was not far away, and he succeeded in 28 THE LIFE STORY OF rescuing us just before it was too late. We were both insensible, and everybody supposed we were dead. When I came to, I was lying on my father and mother's bed—“ma's bed,” we children always called it—the house was full of people and my father and mother were crying and begging the doctor to save my life. Oh, how many times during my lonely prison existence did I think that it would have been better had the river ended the life that had been brought to such wretchedness! But God knew best, and He has brought me through it all, enabling me to tell this little story in sanity and freedom and with a fair measure of hopefulness for the future. Not long after the foregoing accident, a great and dreadful, and, as I have had cause to realize to its fullest extent, a far-reaching calamity befell us all and more particularly my father. I was too young at the time of its occurrence to understand its full details and significance, and as I write from my own memory alone, my account of it must nec- essarily be simple; but its effects very soon began to make themselves felt, and they have continued on through all the years till at last the culmin- ation has, I trust, been reached in the sufferings of SARAH M. VICTOR. 29 my own life and is now over. One night, when we were living in our home at Pickaway, we children had all gone to bed—I was in my trundle-bed in my father and mother's room and my father and mother were sitting before the fire-place—when a knock was heard at the door. My father said, “Come in,” as was the custom in those days, and a man came in, went up and shook hands with my parents and then sat down and began to talk. I could not understand what he said, but I soon noticed that both my father and mother looked and acted strangely. My father dropped his head into his hands and I do not think he spoke. The man soon went away, and my mother got up and went and put her arms around my father and finally knelt down beside him. After a little time he pushed her away and, jumping up, tore off some of his clothing and rushed out of the house. My motherstarted to follow him, when I screamed out in the fright that had come over me, and she turned back to quiet me. But she soon went out, and was gone a long time, but came back without my father. I well remember her agony; how she would cry and say, “My poor husband, where is he and what will become of us?” 30 THE LIFE STORY OF I afterwards learned that my father had signed papers as surety for another to an amount nearly equal to all of his property, and when the news came to him, brought by the visitor of the night men- tioned, that the man had failed and the payment of the debt would come on him (my father), he had immediately lost his reason, and fled, no one knew, at the time, where. My own recollections are that men came to the house and talked with my mother about the store and the houses, and about moving and my father being crazy. A long time afterwards, as it seems to me, the news came that my father was found, but was a long distance away; and it was then thought best for my mother to gather up what had been left after the debt was paid and take the children and go to him, as, the people said, it would not be best for him to come back where he had lost his property, for fear of the effect on his mind. All that was left was, as I afterwards learned, a span of horses, a cow, a large moving wagon and household goods enough to fill it; and with that outfit my mother started with us three children to go from Pickaway to the shore of Lake Erie. What sadness and anxiety of mind my mother SARAH M. VICTOR. 31 must have felt on that journey, the reader can imagine; but to us children it was, in the main, but a source of amusement. When we would become tired of riding, we would get out and walk, and play by the way; then we would stop on the road and cook and milk the cow, and we enjoyed the novelty greatly and wondered why our mother cried so much and was so sad. I remember that we slept in the wagon, mainly, and those who can recall the newness of Ohio over fifty years ago may imagine the lonely watches our mother must have held over us. At this distant date I cannot tell how long we were on the way, but as we had to pass through some seven or eight counties, and often by circui- tous routes, it must have been a long time. How- ever, we at last found my father in Brooklyn, which is now a suburb of the city of Cleveland. But, alas, he was not the same kind father he had always been before. I do not think that he real- ized that we were his children, at first, for he took little notice of us, and acted so strangely that we were afraid of him. Yet, after a time, he began to talk to us all, and at evening would read the Bible and pray, and then our mother would look cheer- 32 THE LIFE STORY OF ful and happy. But our happiness would be of short duration, for, of a sudden, he would be- come wildly insane again and have to be bound with ropes to keep him from running away. Added to all the anxiety and trouble, my mother had, as will readily be seen, to work very hard, and finally, I think, had to work for wages at whatever she could find to do. Indeed, the burden of self-support began to be felt by us all, and my brother and sister, who were older than I, used to add to the income by selling fruit in the city and doing other work that children could do. Borne down by the complication of troubles, my mother fell sick and her life was thought to be of short duration. At that time a friend of hers. advised her to let one of the lady's acquaintances, who lived in the country and had no children of her own, take one of us children. It was a girl that the lady wanted, as she had already taken a boy. My mother consented, as she had little hope of recovery, and the lady, Mrs. Wemple, was sent for. When she came she chose me, and it was agreed that I should go. The lady took me home with her and I lived in the family till I was between thirteen and fourteen years old, with the exception SARAH M. VICTOR. . 33 of a few months when I was at home, as will be See 11. Iliked my new “pa" and “ma,” as I was taught to call Mr. and Mrs. Wemple, very much, and except a little loneliness at first, was well pleased with my new home. The little boy whom they had taken was, though, a source of much unhappiness to me at times. He was of a sulky, ungenerous disposi- tion and had little regard for the truth. Many a whipping I had to take on his account. He would steal sugar and other sweets, which were looked upon in those days as great luxuries, and do many other things, and then tell our foster-mother that I was the guilty one. Mrs. Wemple was quick to punish wrong-doing, and although I know she meant to do right, I am sure I would have been saved many severe punishments and sorrowful hours had she taken pains to be sure who was in the wrong. But both Mr. and Mrs. Wemple were conscientious, well-meaning people, and tried to make me contented and happy. One day, shortly after I went to my new home, “ma,” as I always called Mrs. Wemple, even after I was a married woman, sent me to visit the little boy and girl of a neighbor, one Dr. Foster, to help 34. THE LIFE STORY OF me overcome my homesickness. Mrs. Foster was an invalid, from consumption, and, as she sat in a large rocking-chair, I remember how she called me up to her and asked my name and then sent for the two children, whose names were Charles and Helen, and, taking our hands in hers, said she hoped we would love each other and always be friends. My recollections of the family are a pleasure to me still as I think of how kind they all were to me, and how they tried to make my life happy; and let me say here that when I was in prison and heard that Charles Foster was elected governor, my mind went immediately back to the little playmate of my childhood, and I thought that if they should chance to be the same, my case would be looked into, and when the injus- tice was seen, I would be released. But, alas, the new governor was a stranger to me, and, though I believe him to be a good man, I was doomed to many more years of confinement. There was another family living near that I took great pleasure in visiting and the friendship with which, begun at that early age, lasted up to the time of my imprisonment. It was the family of Nathaniel Merrill, and consisted at that time of SARAH M. VICTOR. 35 Mr. and Mrs. Merrill and Mr. Merrill's mother, “Grandma Merrill,” as everybody called her. I owe much of the happiness of those years to that family, and after I was married and the mother of a family, I always used, when possible, to go to Mr. and Mrs. Merrill for advice and counsel. The dear old grandma died while I yet lived with my foster-parents, but Mr. and Mrs. Merrill lived but a few miles from me at the time of my arrest, as following chapters will show. My mother recovered from her illness, and I sometimes went home to visit her and the family. My brother and sisters often came to see me and always would try to persuade me to go back home to live. Some time after I went to Mr. Wemple's to live, my father left home, and for a long time no news could be obtained of his where- abouts, but finally the information came that he was in Canada. He had been in the British army in his younger life, after leaving France, and had left the army in Canada; so, in the state of mind he was in, he had wandered back. My mother was thus left alone to care for the family, and after a time removed to Warrensville, in the same county–Cuyahoga. 36 THE LIFE STORY OF Soon after the family went to Warrensville, my eldest sister came to see me and insisted on my going back with her, as, she said, my mother wanted me to come. She described the home to which they had gone, in such an attractive way that at last she overcame my inclination to re- main where I was, and I went home with her, in direct opposition to the advice of my foster- parents. Mr. Wemple took us home, however, and I did not run away, as some of the sensa- tional newspaper accounts have represented. But I soon found that I had made a great mistake. When we arrived I found that my sister had much overdrawn the picture of the new home, and that my mother, while she would have been glad to have her children with her, knew it would have been much better for me to have remained at Mr. Wemple's. When she found I had come home to stay, she said: “My dear child, you have come to a poor home, but to a loving mother.” When I told her what my sister had said to me, she said, “Poor Eliza! she meant well.” I will say in explanation of my sister's conduct, that through lack of oversight, owing to the mis- SARAH M. VICTOR. 37 fortunes that had befallen our family, she had got beyond my mother's control, and wishing to gain her point and get me to go home with her, she had exaggerated and misrepresented my mother's wishes. 38 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER II. Losing THE WAY-AMoNG THE SHAKERs—WHERE's MA-Jon- ING THE CHURCH-THE FAITH THAT Solaces—“TAKEN." —QUEEN of THE MAY-MY DEAR Moth ER—THE BABY MAY NEED You—A Costly CHARGE-SoME THoug Hºrs–First LETTER—DEAD–Apprenticeship—To My Own Resources —Homesick Ness—GoING to the Lake—A Brother IN CHRist-My FATHER's RETURN. HEN the first Sunday came after I arrived at my mother's house, as I had been in the habit of attending Sunday-school regularly, I wanted to go as usual, and so my sister and I got ready and started. But a singular mishap befell us, which, with the novelty of its result, made an impression on my mind that time has not in the least effaced. Through some oversight on the part of my sister in attempting to go by a shorter route than usual, we lost our way and wandered on through the woods till nearly sundown, when we came to a small village. I was so tired that I could go no SARAH M. VICTOR. 39 farther, and so we went to one of the houses and knocked. A very neat old lady met us at the door, and we soon found that we were in the Shaker settlement, so well known to the people of the northern part of Ohio at that time and for some years afterwards. When we told our story, the lady said we would have to stay over night and told us we could stay with her. She was very kind to us, giving us a good supper and afterwards putting us in one of the nicest and whitest of beds to sleep. I was so delighted with the place that I wanted to stay, and although they took my sister home to relieve my mother's mind, they allowed me to remain till I was sent for. I shall never forget how happy I was during the few weeks I passed in that Shaker home, nor how like a new world it all seemed to 111C. When my mother sent for me, the people took me home, and I remained there until a lady wanted me to come and do chores about the house for her. But I had not been long enough there to get over the homesickness of a new place when, one day, who should come in but my foster-father, Mr. Wemple! I do not think I was ever so glad to see 40 THE LIFE STORY OF anyone in my life before as I was to see him, and my first question was, “Where's maſº Mr. Wemple answered that “ma” was at home sick, and had told him not to come back without me. I was glad to go, for I really loved them both very much and should have been happy with them had it not have been for the little irritations that nearly always exist in cases where children are put out to live, and in which my own wilfulness, doubt- less, had its part. Mr. and Mrs. Wemple were members of the Presbyterian church and were very strict in ful- filling its teachings, which were much more rigid then than at the present time; and after the ser- vice and Sabbath-school were over, Sunday was always a long day to me, as it was to most coun- try children at that time. But I loved the Sunday-school and took great interest in my les- sons; and before I left Mr. Wemple's I joined the church. It was the Disciple church, however, that I united with, as in going to that church with other young people I became impressed by the idea of baptism by immersion, which seemed to me to be the right way. I did not think when I joined that church that it would make any difference SARAH M. VICTOR. 4.1. to Mrs. Wemple, but I found that she was very much displeased, and I do not think she was ever the same to me afterwards. But I have much to thank my foster-mother for. She taught me to work, sent me to school and gave me the first definite ideas of a faith that, grown into fuller form, has been a solace when and where nothing else could comfort. Of my school days I have some very pleasant, and some quite as unpleasant recollections. I loved to go to school, and learned readily; and I found great pleasure in all my studies except arithmetic. Besides reading, writing and spelling, I studied, at different times, geography, grammar, history, bot- any and a little of arithmetic, but found the last so distasteful and hard to understand that I made little progress in it. Yet, while I never became proficient in any branch of study, owing to the short time I went to school, I have felt the need of a knowledge of arithmetic more than any other. But the causes of the unpleasantness of my school life came from sources that will be readily recognized by those who understand what it was in those days to be “put out to live.” My feelings were constantly being hurt by remarks of other 42 THE LIFE STORY OF children, especially those of rich parents, about my being a poor “taken” child, who had to wear woolen dresses and do what “other folks” told me. Many times I would be so aggravated by such remarks that I would fly into a passion and do and say things that I would be very sorry for afterwards. At other times I would cry and dread the ordeal of going to school in the morning. Yet, with all my troubles, I knew some very happy days while going to school. I recall a couple of birthdays (the fifth of May) that were made a delight, and a source of much happy thought to me for days afterward, by the scholars gathering flowers and crowning me “Queen of the May.” And then, on Saturdays, Mrs. Wemple would allow me to visit in the neighborhood and enjoy myself in various ways. I went, as usual, to see my own mother some- times, but could not be persuaded to remain, and did not think of leaving Mr. Wemple's again until some changes seemed, to my mind, to make it necessary, as will be seen. My father had returned and remained at home, except during intervals of insanity, for some years, and other children, three in number, had been born, when, one day, my SARAH M. VICTOR. 43. mother sent word for me to come and see her, and Mr. Wemple took me home. When I arrived, I found that my mother's father, who lived near Toledo, Ohio, had sent for her to come and make her home with him, as my father was again absent, and she wanted to bid me good-bye. My dear mother! that was the last time I ever saw her. Before I started to return she took me to one side and told me that as her health was so broken she might never return, and asked me if, in case she died and I was living, I would not do all I could for my father and brothers and sisters. “The baby,” she said, “may need you; you will watch over her, won't you?” Ah, my mother little thought what that charge would cost me! It was that same little innocent baby, grown to womanhood, who, misled and deceived, as I believe her to have been, was instru- mental in causing me to be sentenced to death and imprisoned a good part of a lifetime. But I made the promises; and now as I look back over the past and recall the weight of adverse circum- stances as against my own power and opportuni- ties, I fail to see wherein I have not done what I could. Could I have had the experience of after 44. - THE LIFE STORY OF years to have guided me then, I can now see how different all my life would have been. But, alas, it is only through the lapse of years of the disci- pline of this life that knowledge comes to us, and we cannot use it until we have it in our possession. My mother told me she would let me hear from her as soon as she could after her arrival, and I cannot describe the expectation with which I watched for the promised letter. But days, and even months passed before I received it. I went to the post-office every day at the last, and finally, one day, I was given a letter. It was the first one I had ever received, and I opened it eagerly—to find only a lock of my mother's hair and the news that she was dead. I would never see my mother again! It seemed too awful to be borne. I remember how all the people pitied me, and how useless and comfortless all their kindness seemed. At first I thought I never could feel rec- onciled to such a sorrow as had come to me; and the first sense of comfort I felt was in gratefulness to Mrs. Wemple for dressing me in mourning for my mother's sake. I felt that it would be doing all that could be done for my mother, and I shall SARAH M. VICTOR. 45. never forget how thankful I was to Mrs. Wemple for her kindness. After I received that letter I thought continu- ally of what my mother had said to me, and was always trying to think of some way in which I could help my brothers and sisters. Finally I read a book, which I got at Sabbath-school, about a young girl that had kept house for her father and taken care of her younger brothers and sisters, making their clothes, sending them to school, etc., and then my thoughts began to take form in the idea that I would learn to make dresses. I could sew and knit and do many other kinds of work, and I thought that if I knew how to make dresses, I would find my father and gather the younger children into a home. I knew that I was too young at that time to learn the dressmakers' trade, but I could not give up the idea. Some years passed, and, one day, I spoke to Mrs. Wemple about my wish to know how to make dresses, and asked her to let me go and learn the trade; but she looked upon the matter with so much disfavor that I did not dare to tell her why I wished to learn, for fear she would think I 46 THE LIFE STORY OF wanted to leave her, and would be displeased about it. So I waited and waited, and when she saw that I did not give up the idea, she told me she would see a dressmaker, and find a place where I could work for my board, and let metry. Not long after that talk, Mrs. Wemple went to see a Miss Slade, who was a dressmaker in Cleve- land, and who agreed to give me a trial. Arrange- ments were then made with a Mrs. Stedman, who lived next door to Miss Slade, for me to work nights and mornings and half a day on wash-day, for my board; and in that way I began my appren- ticeship. Mrs. Stedman and her family were very pleasant and good to me, and, although I had to work very hard, and early and late, I was much pleased with the arrangement, for my long-cher- ished wish was about to be realized. There was a millinery shop through which I had to pass to go to Miss Slade's rooms, and I watched the work of the milliners so closely that I soon could make a bonnet, myself. - When Mrs. Wemple allowed me to leave her, I think she thought I would soon tire of the work and be glad to return; but when Miss Slade made favorable report of my progress and said I would SARAH M. VICTOR. 4.7 be a perfect dressmaker in less than the time for which she had taken me, my foster-parents seemed to lose all interest in me, and from that time left me entirely to my own resources. The apparent desertion on the part of my only protectors caused me a great deal of sorrow and anxiety. Many times I cried myself to sleep in homesickness and discouragement. Besides my loneliness, I soon found that what little clothing I had was wearing out, and as I was earning no money, I did not know what to do. I could not go to church when Sunday came, because my clothes, while doing very well for the shop and housework, were not suitable for any public meet- ing; and so the Sabbath was always a long and unhappy day to me. Sometimes when I had become very tired of sit- ting alone when others had gone to church, on Sunday, I would stroll down to the lake and sit in the grove and watch the boats as they passed; and in that way an incident occurred that I never shall forget and that will show the propriety of church- going, particularly for young girls. The Sunday before the last of my going to the lake, as I was sitting looking out on the water and 48 THE LIFE STORY OF thinking of my forlorn condition, a nice appearing gentleman came up and spoke about the beautiful view and asked me if I enjoyed it. I answered that I did, very much, and that I came down nearly every Sunday. He made some further remarks and seemed so pleasant that I thought him one of the nicest gentlemen I had ever seen. I soon went home, but the next Sunday I again went to the lake, and soon after I arrived the same gentleman came, and sitting down beside me began to ask about my parents, where I lived and what church I attended, and before I was aware of it, I had told him nearly everything about myself and family. He then said that he believed I was a very good girl and that he would like to have me in his own family. He said he would pay me high wages and get a dressmaker to come to the house and teach me, and added that he knew his family would like me and I them. I was much elated at the prospect, and asked him to tell his wife where I worked, so that she might come and see me. He said that his wife was lame, but that he would come. SARAH M. VICTOR. 49 Before he could say anything more, a gentleman who had come up behind where we sat said, “You villain, how dare you talk like that to my sister P’’ The man got up and hurried away and I turned to the one who had spoken, and said, “What do you mean? You know I am not your sister.” “Yes, sister, I am your brother in Christ,” he answered, and then said: “I heard you tell that villain that you belonged to the Disciple church, and if not, I am your brother to protect you, and I shall not leave you until I see you home.” I found that he was a young minister in the Disciple church. He told me that the man I had thought so much of a gentleman had neither a wife nor a family, and was a very bad man. He then took me to Mrs. Stedman's, and I did not go to the lake again for a long time. Not long after the occurrence just mentioned, my father came to Cleveland, and finding where I was, came to see me. He seemed rational, and I told him that if he would get a house, I could keep house for him. He was much pleased, and in a short time he got a nice house, at the same 50 THE LIFE STORY OF time setting up in a small grocery business. Then I began to think that the time for the fulfillment of my desire to do something for the family had at last come. SARAH M. VICTOR. 51 CHAPTER III. FIRST RIDE ON LAKE ERIE-My MoTHER's GRAVE-LIQUOR AND FATE–FIFTY CENTS PER WEEK–THEFT OF A CANDLE –TRying to Restore It-GoING to KIRTLAND–TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT-MUCH DISAPPoſNTED–DR. AcKLEY-ILL- NEss of My SISTER—Goes to THE Asylumſ—A LETTER From FRIENDS–Go West—ON THE STEAMER—VERY SEA- sick—KIND PASSENGERs—FINDING A. Bottle—Fort M.Ack- INAw-IN PORT. I HAD not been keeping house long before my sister Eliza, who was married and living near Toledo, having heard that our father had returned to Cleveland, came to see us. She made but a short visit, and was very anxious to have me go home with her and see the other children, whom she had cared for mostly since our mother's death. I would not consent to go, but before I was aware of it I was taking my first ride on Lake Erie. When my sister was ready to start for home, she wanted me to go and see her off. All travel was by water—that is, to lake ports—and as I 52 THE LIFE STORY OF thought it would be something to see the steamer, I went with her to the landing. When we arrived it was not yet time for the boat to leave, and after some hesitation I went on board and we sat down in the cabin. I was very uneasy, but my sister said there was plenty of time, and kept on talking of the children till, all of a sudden, I discovered that the boat was moving. My sister began to laugh and I jumped up and ran out, only to find that the boat was too far from the landing for me to be put on shore. Then there was a scene. I was nearly distracted. I did not know what my father would think of my absence, and I wanted the captain to put me on some return- ing boat. But he told me I could write to my father by the return of the boat from Toledo, and after a good deal of persuasion I became recon- ciled to go home with my sister. While at my sister's I went to visit our mother's grave. It was in the woods, with a few others about it, and the desolation of that scene, with logs and rails scattered around to keep the cat- tle from wandering over the graves, is as clear to my mental vision to-day as it was to my phys- ical sight over forty-five years ago. SARAH M. VICTOR. 53 I soon returned to Cleveland, and soon after, my father got my eldest brother, Joseph, and a younger sister, Lavina, home with us. I then had enough to do, but I was determined not to become discouraged, and things went on in that way for a considerable length of time. I was happy in the consciousness that I was doing what my mother would have approved of and I used to wonder if she knew I was trying to do my duty. But after a while I noticed that my father, though not appearing to be really insane, had spells of great irritability, and at such times would neglect his business. At last he became so bad that I went to Colonel Abby, well known to the older residents of Cleveland, and asked his advice. “Sarah,” he said, “I think your father is drink- ing, and that is bad for him in his condition.” I felt that my fears were realized then, for I had thought such was the case. Soon after I talked with Colonel Abby, fate, it would seem, brought the very man through whom my father had lost his property, to Cleveland, on some business, and seeing him pass the house, my father ran after him and did not return for many months. After some 54. THE LIFE STORY OF time had elapsed my brother was obliged to sell out everything, and I went to Colonel Abby's to stay till I could get a situation, taking my little sister with me. My little brother, William, the one for whose supposed murder I was imprisoned, had been sent to us some time before, and I got the family of a Mr. Marcellus to keep him till I could find a place for him. I soon got work, but wages were very low, and I received but fifty cents per week, half of which went to Colonel Abby's family for my sister's board, until Mrs. Abby, seeing the hardness of my lot, told me I need no longer pay it. As an instance of the difficulties under which girls had to work in those days, I will relate a little incident which, though not complimentary to myself, will illustrate the process from cause to effect. It is simply an account of my first and only theft, which occurred while I was working at my first place after leaving Colonel Abby's: Having to work for such low wages, my ward- robe was not very extensive, but such clothing as I was able to buy, had to be made; and all the time that I could devote to sewing for myself was at night, after my work for the family was done. SARAH M. VICTOR. 55 I was allowed no light except the ends of candles, about an inch long, which were taken from the candle-sticks when they were cleaned in the morn- ing, and kept to “go to bed by.” As such lights would last but a few minutes, I usually bought my own candles; but one night I had neither a candle nor money with which to buy one, and was very anxious to finish a piece of work that I had begun. Fearing refusal, I had not the courage to ask for a light, and so went to the box where the candles were kept, thinking to take one and re- place it as soon as I could. But I had been taught rigid honesty, and I have often thought since that if every thief went through the same ordeal I did, in the first theft, there would be few second trans- gressions. I took up a candle and laid it down again, several times; then I thought half of one would do and would lessen the sin; so I cut one in two, replacing the half, when I was appalled by the thought that the half would betray me, and at last caught up both pieces and, putting them in my pocket, crept up to my room. I did not enjoy the light of that candle in the least, and made up my mind to replace it as soon as possible. In a short time I bought one, and felt 56 - THE LIFE STORY OF quite elated at the thought of restitution; but, alas, it was not like the others and I was no more at ease than before. I then concluded to wait till 1 found one that would match those in the box; but as I left the place soon after, the candle never was returned, and the whole left such an unpleas- ant impression on my mind that it has never been forgotten. When I left the place spoken of, I went to work in the family of Dr. Ackley, who, like Colonel Abby, will be remembered by many Cleveland people. Mrs. Ackley was ill and partially insane, but was very kind to me, often allowing me to do for her many things that she would not allow done by her own family. In trying to find a place for my brother William I heard of a family in Kirtland, some twenty miles from Cleveland, who wanted to adopt a little boy, and a girl who had once lived in the family offered to go there with me. There was no railroad then, and as I had little money, we walked a part, and got a ride the rest of the way to my old home, Mr. Wemple's, where we stayed over night and took the stage the next day for Kirtland. SARAH M. VICTOR. 57 When we arrived at the house of the people who wanted the child, we were met by a lady whose appearance pleased me very much, and I soon told my story. But I was not prepared for what followed. “And so you have come all this way to get a home for a little brother! Are you sure he is your brother?” said the lady. “Yes, ma'am,” I answered, not seeing why such a question should be asked. She then drew her chair up to mine and taking my hand in hers said, “You are very young, and you look like a good girl; now, tell me all about it, and I will be your friend.” I had not so much as the faintest idea of what she meant, and so remained silent. “Now, tell me all about it,” she continued; “who his father is and if you were engaged to him. Now, who is his father?” “My father,” I answered, very much confused, and beginning to get an idea of her meaning. “No, his father; you need not be afraid to tell me all about it,” she persisted. I then told her that he was my brother, and that our mother was dead and our father gone away. - 58 THE LIFE STORY OF “Oh, I see you are like all city girls,” she said, and added that it would be bad enough to take “such” a child, any way. At last she said, “You can't expect me to take your child unless you tell me all about him and who his father is.” She said much more in the same strain during our conversation, but as I could not claim the maternity of my own brother, she would not give him a home, and I was obliged to return to Cleveland very sad and disappointed. The little episode did not increase my faith in humanity nor in the efficacy of truth. When I returned to Cleveland I told Dr. Ackley's folks the cause of my failure, and soon after that the doctor told me that I could bring my brother to them and they would care for him. That was a great relief to me. I had felt so much anxiety about the matter that it had interfered with my work; but when I at last had my little brother with me, I was very happy. My sister was still at Colonel Abby's, and one day Dr. Ackley came home and told me to get ready and he would take me over there to see her. SARAH M. VICTOR. 59 “I have bad news for you,” he said. At first I thought some change was to be made that would throw me out of my place, as some place to call home was uppermost in my mind; but the doctor assured me that both myself and my brother could stay as long as we liked, and then told me that my sister was very sick and he did not think she would live. She was uncon- scious when we arrived, and I cannot describe what my feelings were when I thought she would never know me again. She had always been my pet sister, my mother having allowed me to name her when she was a baby; and when I saw her so near death, I thought I could not lose her, and I prayed God to spare her. My prayer was an- swered, and I stayed with her till she was out of danger, going every night after my work was done, for some time after, and passing the night with her. I remained at Dr. Ackley's until Mrs. Ackley became so much worse that it was necessary to remove her to the asylum. Then my services were no longer needed and I was obliged to look for another situation. About that time I received a letter from a family 60 THE LIFE STORY OF with whom I was acquainted, who had gone to Wisconsin some time before. They wanted me to come to them, telling me that wages were much higher there than in Cleveland, and offering me a home for as long as I wanted to stay. I showed the letter to Dr. Ackley, and he told me that if I thought best to go, he would get me a passage on the steamer going to Milwaukee, and as I had been so faithful to Mrs. Ackley and my brother and sister, he would give me ten dollars besides. He said, also, that he would keep William and educate him. I then went to Mrs. Abby and asked her advice. She told me that she thought that, as I could not depend upon any assistance from my father, it might be the best thing I could do, and said that they would keep my sister till they could do better by her. So it was arranged that I should go west, and Dr. Ackley took me to the steamer and put me in charge of the captain. The first day and night I was very seasick, but the captain told the lady passengers that I was alone, going west to friends, and they were all very kind to me. We stopped at several places on the way, but SARAH M. VICTOR. 61. the one that interested me the most was Fort Mackinaw. A gentleman on the boat had found a bottle floating on the lake, containing a letter written by someone on a vessel that had been lost, and addressed to friends at Fort Mackinaw; so when we arrived there the ladies took me on shore with them and we saw the man deliver the letter. Then we strolled around, going up to the fort and looking it over; then to see the squaws making bead-work, and at last to watch the Indians, some of whom were looking over their nets, some fish- ing, etc., when we went back to the steamer, very tired, but much interested by what we had seen. We made short stops at some few other places, but at last the captain came to me and told me to get ready, as we would soon be at Milwaukee. Then came the parting with the ladies who had been so kind to me, some of whom had daughters of their own, and cried as they kissed me in part- ing. At last all was over, and I found myself on shore. 62 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER IV. ON THE WHARF At MILwAUKEE–HUNTING For FARMERs— FIFTY MILEs—For A Doll'AR–AN Ox TEAM–OLD CoN- NECTICUT-Too MUCH-A. KIND LADy—IT WON'T HURT IT —OLD UM–A Log CHURCH-My FUTURE HUSBAND–HoNEY PARTIEs – ENGAGED – Wolves–LETTER Post-AGE – THE WEDDING—CHIVARARI–MARRIED–A CAP For A HEN–DiLi- GENT BIDDy—NEveR A BrooD HEN. I' the reader can imagine how it would seem to be a young girl, alone in a strange city, with little knowledge of the world and less money, it may be possible to understand how I felt as I stood on the wharf at Milwaukee, without one familiar face in the throngs of people, and with no idea of what was to be done first. My friends, in writing to me, had said that I should ask some of the farmers who would be in the city, and they would take me to my destination; but where were the farmers? I knew that farmers were usually to be found near the market places in Cleveland, and my first inquiry was for the general market. No one near the boat-landing knew where to direct me, and so SARAH M. VICTOR. 63 I left my baggage and started to find someone who did. At last I found a place where a number of farm wagons were standing from which some men were unloading grain, and I asked if any of them knew Mr. Gilmore, who lived near White- Water. “Whitewater!” said one man, “why I know the place, but it's a long ways from here.” Some then said it was fifty, and some a hundred miles. My heartsank on hearing that, for Ithought I never could get a ride in a farm wagon so far as fifty miles. But soon an old gentleman came up to where we were standing, and hearing the con- versation, said: “I know Gilmore; I live out there, and I'll take youthere for a dollar.” I could have cried from thankfulness, at the news, and in a short time the old gentleman had got my baggage and I was again on my journey; this time to go fifty miles, the real distance to Whitewater, behind an ox team. In these days of rapid travel, the tediousness of such atrip can be imagined; but the weariness was not unmixed with novelty. As we went on over the rough roads, the old farmer, when not asking questions about the place and the people where I 64. THE LIFE STORY OF . had come from and my trip “'round the big lakes,” entertained me by telling tales of the hardships and adventures of the settlers’ lives, and did his best to cheer and encourage me. “If you don't git humsick at the start,” said he, “you'll come out all right,” which I afterwards found to be the case. Near dark the first day, we came to a log house, where the farmer said we would stop over night. He went to take care of the oxen and an old lady came to the door and told me to come in. As the farmer had said nothing to her as we came up, I asked her if I could stay over night. “La, yes, child,” said she; “you can’t go no further to-night. It's miles to the next place.” She then asked mewhat I would have for supper, and I told her some bread and milk would be all I would want. “But mebby I'd better cook some meat,” said she, “for likely your father’ll want some.” I then told her that the man was not my father, and where I had come from and was going. “Land sakes' you don't say so,” she exclaimed. She then said that I “favored'’ the old gentle- man, and she thought I “was surely his gal;” but SARAH M. VICTOR. 65 when I told her further of myself she became much interested, and said she was always “so glad to see anyone from the east.” - When she took me into the little bed-room where I was to sleep, she asked me if I said my prayers before retiring. I told her that I did, and she then asked if I would care if she stayed and heard me. “I used to say my prayers when I was a gal and lived in old Connecticut,” she said, and continued: “We came all the way from old Connecticut. When I was married my old man promised to stay there, but he got the western ſever and had to come here.” I knelt and said the bed-time prayer taught me by Mrs. Wemple, ending by asking God to bless the dear old lady beside me. When I arose, I found her in tears, and I put my arms around her and told her not to cry. “It takes me back to my folks,” she said. “They're all dead and gone now.” Iarose early the next morning and found a good breakfast awaiting me. As we were about to start, the farmer asked me if I had paid my bill. I told him I had not, and, indeed, that was the first intimation I had had that the place was 66 THE LIFE STORY OF a hotel. As I turned to go back, I heard the old lady say to her husband, “Twenty-five cents is enough; she hain't got much money,” and so twenty-five cents was the charge. We were soon on our way again behind the slow ox team. The ride was without interest until about noon, when a very novel incident broke the monotony: As we stopped at a little group of log-houses, called a village, to water the oxen, another team drove up, and in the wagon were a woman and child. The woman was crying and seemed in great trouble. When questioned, the driver said his passengers had come from the east to visit the woman's father, who lived somewhere near that place, but that the woman had forgotten her father's name. The idea of forgetting the name of one's own father was too much for those who had gathered around, and many of them began to laugh. But soon a man came up and said: “Why, it must be old Uncle –. He told me, yesterday, that he was expecting his girl and her baby.” When the woman heard the name, which I can- not recall, she said, “Oh, that's my father!” and SARAH M. VICTOR. 67 then we learned that she had become so fatigued by her journey that she could not think. As we drove on, the old farmer drew his face into a funny smile and muttered, “I b'lieve that caps the climax of anything I ever did hear.” That night, we stopped at another log tavern. When we arrived, I did not see any woman about, and when the man who met us asked me if I would have supper, I said no, fearing my money would not hold out. I had been obliged to spend some of the money given me by Dr. Ackley, for clothing, and so had little left. But after I had retired, a lady came into the room and asked if I was sick. I told her I was not, and she then went out and brought me some bread and milk, and some cake. She then sat down on the bed with me and talked some time, telling me of her own life; that she had lost a little girl who would have been about my age, and finally that if I did not remain with the friends to whom I was going, to come back and live with her. In the morning she made up a nice lunch for me to eat on the road, and would not take any pay for what I had had. I never saw the lady again, but 68 THE LIFE STORY OF I cherished the memory of that night in a log tavern for many years after. The ride that day was over the same rough roads through the woods, with some wild animal occasionally creeping out of the bushes and dart- ing across the road before us; but as it was to be my last before reaching Mr. Gilmore's, I began to feel encouraged About noon, as I was eating my lunch, a big, rough boy got in to ride with us, and clouded my thoughts for a time by sitting down on my band- box. “Oh, it won't hurt it; it can be fixed,” said he, with a truly masculine idea of millinery goods. Soon after noon we reached Whitewater, and the farmer told me I would soon be with my friends, as we had but five miles farther to go. But oxen are not to be hurried, and the sun was just setting when we drove up to a little log house which I could not believe was Mr. Gilmore's until the chil- dren came running out to meet me. At last I was at the end of my journey, and although everything was new to me, and different than I had expected, we were all very happy that night. We talked and laughed over our experiences SARAH M. VICTOR. 69 since we parted in Cleveland, and Mrs. Gilmore jokingly spoke of the young men about there, but I little thought I would marry and settle down in that new place. During our conversation Irelated how I had had my fortune told some years before. A Mr. Doan, who lived at Collamer, near Cleveland, had an old colored man who was a deaf-mute, and people used to say that he had the gift of second sight. One day I was in Mr. Wemple's shop (my foster- father was a blacksmith), and old “Um,” as he was called, came in. As soon as he saw me he began to motion with his hands. I could not understand him, but Mr. Wemple said: “Um wants to tell your fortune.” The old man then threw out his hands, then reached high up with one, and went through a number of motions, which Mr. Wemple said meant that I would “cross big water and marry a tall man.” When Sunday came, Mrs. Gilmore said we would walk to church, as it was but a short distance. We got ready and started, and after walking some distance and seeing no church, I asked how soon we would reach it. “When we get to that little knoll,” pointing to 70 THE LIFE STORY OF a slight elevation before us, “you can see it,” Mrs. Gilmore answered. I then asked if it was a nice building. “We think it very nice,” she said. Just then two men came up from behind us and passed on, when I asked who they were. “One is Mr. H- and the other is young Smith,” said Mrs. Gilmore, and, stopping and put- ting her hand on my shoulder, added tragically, “There's your future husband!” I laughed, and asked, “Which one?” “Young Smith, the tall one, of course,” she said; and whether old “Um’s” prophecy was the result of “second sight,” or chance, the tall man was my future husband; the man with whom I spent some years of almost perfect happiness, and afterwards, some full of torture of mind, and misery and neglect. - When we reached the top of the knoll, I looked down and saw some people going into a log house. “Why, is that the church?” I asked, but I knew it was, when I saw Mrs. Gilmore laughing at me. I found that a good meeting could be held, even in a log church. The minister preached a good sermon, and as the choir was in those days the SARAH M. VICTOR. 71. whole congregation, we all joined in the singing. During the services I could not look across to where the gentleman Mrs. Gilmore had called “young Smith.” sat, without finding him looking at me, and on the way home, Mrs. Gilmore joked me and said, “You’ll see him coming over in a few days.” Sure enough, in a few days he came, bringing his sister with him. When they took their leave, they invited me to visit them, and in that way our acquaintance began. Mr. Smith was very attentive from the first, and before long there was hardly a meeting or gathering such as the people had about there, that I did not attend with him and his sister. Along at first nearly every party was what they called a “honey party.” Some of the farmers would find a bee tree, and then the family would invite all the neighbors to come and eat biscuits and honey. I shall never forget the first one I attended. When supper was announced, the young folks all started in a wild race to see who could get to the table first, and during the meal the farmer's wife would say: 72 THE LIFE STORY OF “Eat hearty, girls; there's plenty more bis- cuits.” It was all so extremely ludicrous to me that I could not keep from laughing, and came very near getting myself into trouble. But I soon got used to the customs, and enjoyed myself with the rest. - I had not, however, any intentions as yet, of remaining permanently in that country, and when I found that I had made a mistake, so far as wages were concerned, in going, I made up my mind to go back to Milwaukee, to a family of which one of the ladies on the steamer had told me, and try to get work till I should be able to go back to Ohio. I told Mrs. Gilmore of my in- tentions, and it was agreed that I should remain two weeks longer, and then they would take me to Milwaukee. When Mr. Smith heard of my intention, he was more attentive than ever, and before the two weeks were up, he had persuaded me to protract my stay. I was too young to think of marrying, and he was not yet twenty; but before many weeks had passed we were engaged. After that, he came to see me once a week, at SARAH M. VICTOR. 73 evening, and would stay till about ten o'clock. The country was full of wild animals, and one night, on his way home, he was attacked by wolves. I did not recover from the fright it caused me, for many weeks, and I began to understand what it would be to lose my future husband. He wanted me to agree to be married that winter, and his family said the same. I knew nothing of the responsibilities of a wife, and thought of mar. riage only as a condition in which I would have a home and the one I loved always with me. Mr. Smith's father had promised Charles—that was my affianced's name—that he would deed him forty acres of land when he became of age, and I thought that when we should get a home of our own, I could have the brother and sister I had left in Cleveland come west also. The postage on letters in those days was twenty-five cents, and but few people wrote to their friends more than once a year, and in many cases not as often as that; trusting to hearing from them through someone coming from the east. When the news would come that a family or person had arrived in that country from almost anywhere east of the sections that were almost 74. THE LIFE STORY OF solid woods, many times people would drive twenty miles to see them and inquire after those left behind. But as no one came who knew my people, I had not heard of the children since I left Cleveland; yet they were constantly in my mind, and I made many pictures of what I would do for them, little knowing what the future would bring. But I knew that I loved Mr. Smith, and when everyone seemed so anxious to have the marriage at an early day, I consented, and we were married on the fourteenth day of January, 1843. A Bap- tist minister, Rev. Mr. Reed, performed the cere- mony, and for that new country we had a fine wedding. Nearly all the people for some distance around were there, and as soon as the ceremony was over refreshments were passed around—the house not being large enough to set tables for so many guests. - We had received congratulations on every hand, but there was more to follow, as I soon realized. Just as the guests were enjoying their cake, a gun was fired outside. My first thought was of wolves; but before I could ask what was the matter, the shot was followed by the most horri- SARAH M. VICTOR. 75 ble sound I had ever heard or have ever heard since. I cannot describe it, but it was simply appalling. Seeing that I was frightened, the min- ister came over to me. “That is a very fine band,” said he, and added that it was a “harmless custom.” I thought he was trying to quiet my fears, and asked him if the Indians were coming. Then everybody laughed, and I soon learned that we were being treated to a chivarari. It had been gotten up by an old bachelor in the neighborhood, and was not unexpected by the guests. The “serenaders” were soon quieted by being treated to refreshments, the guests went home to “sleep on their wedding cake,” and I was a mar- ried woman, alone with my husband. Arrangements had been made that we should live with my husband's parents till my husband became twenty-one, and we went there soon after our marriage. The family consisted of father and mother Smith, two daughters, Fanny and Lucella, and my husband, who was the only son. They were all kind, pleasant people, and we were a much happier family than is often the case under such circumstances. There were, though, many 76 THE LIFE STORY OF things to irritate and to be borne in silence till we could go by ourselves. The country being so new, life was hard for us all. There was little money in circulation in the rural parts of Wisconsin forty-four years ago, and the farmers all looked forward to harvest time, after which those in the vicinity where we lived would take their grain to Milwaukee, being gone several days and returning with more money than they would have at any other time in the year. The wild animals killed off our poultry so fast that it was almost impossible to keep any; and the efforts and failures we made in trying to keep up the supply, though very discouraging then, would be amusing now. I was very anxious to do something to help in increasing the family resources, and I thought that if I could get a hen, I could set her and raise a brood of chickens, which should be my special charge till they were grown. With a natural taste for such work, I had learned to knit lace when I was very young, and when I heard of a woman who wanted a cap, I went to her and told her that if she would give me a hen, I would knit her a cap. SARAH M. VICTOR. 77 “A hen? Why, yes, I'll give you a hen and a settin' of eggs,” she said. The cap was soon finished and the hen, etc., duly delivered. I took great care in setting the hen to have everything according to the most approved plan, putting thirteen eggs under her for luck, as I was told an even number would be disastrous. Biddy was very diligent, hardly leav- ing her nest to eat, but the proper number of days elapsed and no chickens appeared. On investiga- tion, I found that the eggs were all addled, but I had to tie the hen up to convince her of the fact. I tried the experiment again and again—in fact, I do not know how many times that hen sat, but she never raised a chicken. During her times of rest from her incubating efforts she became very intimate with the family, often going into the house and flying up into the chairs or onto the beds, and became a great pet with us all; but she was never a success as a brood hen. 78 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER V. HEAvy WoRK–DISAPPointED–GoING to Housekeeping–Out- FIT-ASHADow—PLEASANT AND LIVELY-ATREAch EROUS FRIEND–VioleNoe—No NEws FROM THE EAST –BIRTH of First Boy—Go to CLEvel AND–HAD RUN Away–Tricks of STUDENTs—HUsbAND's ARRIVAL–A QUILTING PARTY- CHicken-Pox—BABY VERY SIcK–THOUGHT IN No DANGER —My BABY DEAD. I WAS very happy with my husband, but mother Smith's health was poor and I was obliged to work beyond my strength. Being of slight form, I was never very strong, and the heavy work of such a life many times brought on spells of despondency, from simple fatigue. At such times my husband would comfort me by planning what we would do when we should have a house of our own. I think it much the better way for young people to begin housekeeping independently from the first after marriage, even if it be in one room; for no matter how friendly the relations may be, there is always a feeling of dependence experienced by the new member of the family. SARAH M. VICTOR. 79 At last the time came when my husband was twenty-one, but, quite unexpectedly to us, his father determined that to divide the farm would ruin it, and refused to deed us the land. We were very much disappointed; and I think that had father Smith kept his promise, much of the trouble of after years would have been avoided. But there was nothing for us to do but to stay where we were for the time; and one day my husband came in and said: “How would you like to go to housekeeping by yourself?” I was pleased, but asked him how that could be. “Oh,” he said, “it won't be so nice as I would like, but I can put up a big room to our house, and we can be by ourselves.” I entered into the plan very readily; for some change that would define my duties was what I wanted above everything else. So the addition to father Smith's house was built, being one good- sized room, which answered for parlor, kitchen and bed-room. My husband then bought a stove, which few people in the country had; three Windsorchairs, which were quite as much a rarity; a few cooking utensils and other small articles, and 80 THE LIFE STORY OF then made a table and cupboard, mother Smith giving us a bed. In that way I began my first housekeeping; and I am sure that no one beginning in a mansion, with appropriate belongings, could have been happier than I. I took great pleasure in adding such little embellishments as our resources would allow, to our one room, and when some new arrangement was finished, would wait for my husband's coming, to see his look of surprise and | enjoy the praises of my ingenuity that he was always sure to give. Those days in that one room were the happiest of my life; my greatest anxiety being when my husband would go to Milwaukee with grain or other produce, at which times I would wait impatiently for the day on which he was to return, and then go a long dis- tance on the road to meet him. But a shadow was to come over us both—an evil that soon blighted my faith in my husband and, growing and deepening by constant repeti- tion, finally caused our separation. My husband was a fine-looking man, generous- hearted and agreeable in his ways, and those qualities made him a great favorite with all the SARAH M. VICTOR. S1 women of our acquaintance; yet, a thought of his unfaithfulness never entered my mind until forced upon me by an occurrence that brought doubt and conviction together. We had a neighbor who was the wife of a man in high office in the county and who often visited at our house, she was several years older than my husband, but was pleasant and lively, and we enjoyed her coming very much. Finally she be- came so intimate with us that we hardly went to an entertainment of any kind that she was not invited to go with us. She often complimented me by saying I was very sensible, for a young wife, in not being jealous of my handsome husband. One day I wanted my husband to go to White- water for groceries, but he told me he could not, as he had to go to see a neighbor, a man who lived about two miles away. I told him the man was not at home, as I had seen him pass that morning. My husband then said the man was going home by another road and would be there by the time he (my husband) would get there. In going to the man's house, one had to pass the road leading to the house of our friend, the lady of whom I have spoken, and after my husband had 82 THE LIFE STORY OF gone, I began to think that his manner had been singular. I had no definite idea in my mind, but the thought struck me that he was trying to play some joke on me, and I went out and followed on after him. I caught a sight of him now and then between the trees, and was about to go back, when I saw him turn down the road to our friend's house. I was then sure in my mind that there was something he did not want to tell me, and I thought I would go on and tell him he had been fooling me. He reached the house some little time before I did, and as I was going up to the door I passed a window, and glancing in, saw my hus- band with his arms around Mrs. —, my supposed friend, and hers around his neck. Possibly there are young wives to-day who can understand what my feelings were-I will not attempt to describe them. But I went in and confronted the two, hardly knowing whether I had lost my senses or not. The tears and promises and penitence of that interview need not be detailed here, but Mrs. – begged me not to expose her to her husband, and knowing that to disgrace her was to disgrace my own, I promised on conditions that there - - SARAH M. VICTOR. 83 should be no more such meetings. I loved my hus- band too well to expose or upbraid him, but my faith in him was broken. We walked home in silence, he with his own thoughts, and I wish- ing I had died before knowing him as he was. Matters went on as usual, outwardly, until one day Mrs. — came to our house, giving as an excuse that people would be sure to talk if she did not. My husband insisted on her continuing to come, and I soon found that matters were no better, and that all the promises had been broken. Soon afterwards we were getting ready to visit an acquaintance, when my husband said Mrs. — wanted to go with us. That was more than I could bear, and I said, “No, Mrs. — has gone the last time she will ever go anywhere with me.” I was standing before my husband, fastening his necktie, and he pushed me from him with such force that I fell against the wall and my head struck a nail, which caused the blood to flow. I sank down in a chair, and my husband, becoming alarmed, called his mother. She thought I must have done something to provoke her son to such violence, and I then told her the whole story. 84. THE LIFE STORY OF She turned to him and said, “ Charles, is this true?” “Yes, it is all true,” he answered. Mother Smith was very angry, and said I ought not to live with him another day. But separation was not to be thought of I was already a mother, my first child being but a few months old when the trouble with my hus- band began; and I doubt that I could have brought my mind to consider a separation, even under other circumstances. Then, after mother Smith's coming to know of our trouble, my hus- band seemed to realize the baseness of his conduct, and I began to think I would have no further cause for complaint. When my child, which was a girl, had been born, father and mother Smith had been much dis- appointed because it was not a boy; but I was too happy in being a mother to have any choice, and the comfort my baby brought me kept me from many miserable thoughts. - We remained at father Smith's till we found that it was useless to expect him to deed us the land he had agreed to, and which was really my husband's due, as he had put money of his own earning into SARAH M. VICTOR. 85 the payments, when we moved into another neigh- borhood and my husband got work as a carpen- ter. He had never learned the trade, but he was very handy in the use of carpenter tools, and the rough work in that new country did not require great skill. - In all the time that had passed I had never heard from my friends in the east, and at times I was nearly distracted at the thought of what would become of the brother and sister I had left in Cleveland. I had twice written, but never receiving an answer, I had almost despaired of ever seeing them again. Better for me if I never had I then would not have had this story to write. But I did not then know that one's best deeds could be warped into condemnations, nor that a woman could be convicted—in a court of justice! God help us all!—of the murder of a brother towards whom she never had a thought of evil. On October 14, 1848, my second child was born, and as it was a son, everybody joined in my hap- piness. But he was a very delicate babe, and the doctor told me I must make up my mind to part with him. - - 86 THE LIFE STORY OF If a mother ever prayed for her child's life, I prayed that my baby might be spared. My health had been very poor for some time before his birth, and I had become so discouraged and despondent that I longed to go back to my old home and see if it would not benefit me. I wanted to take my babe with me, and I prayed that he might live till I could go and let “pa'' and “ma” Wemple see him, thinking, in my weakness, that I could part with him more willingly after that. At last the doctor told my husband that a change of air and surroundings would do me more good than medicine, and that it might benefit the baby. It was then spring, and as my child had lived through the winter, there seemed to be more hope for him. So it was arranged that my hus- band should take our little girl and go home to his father's during the summer, and if everything went well, come after me early in the fall. I disliked to leave my little girl, but her grandparents were much attached to her and I knew she would be in good hands. At last all was ready, and my hus- band took me to Milwaukee and put me on the boat, and baby and I were soon on our way to Cleveland. We had a pleasant trip, everybody SARAH M. VICTOR. 87 petting and admiring the baby, it being the only one on the boat. - When we arrived in Cleveland I started at once to go to Colonel Abby's and inquire for my sister. I remember that the first person I met with whom I was acquainted was Mr. Oscar Welch, whose wife had always been a good friend to me. I found Colonel Abby's family about as I had left it, Mrs. Abby being still an invalid. On asking about my sister I was told that a family by the name, I think, of Beals had taken her, but that my sister Eliza had taken her from them and no one then knew where she was. At the time of my trial, it was reported among other derogatory tales manufactured for the occasion, that I was the sister who had taken her from her place; but as I was in Wisconsin with my husband, it will be seen how consistent the public was at that time. I next asked after William, fully expecting that he would be at Dr. Ackley's, where I had left him, as the doctor had assured me he would keep him. But I was disappointed and chagrined by learning that he had run away, and, as in the case of my sister, no one knew where he was. On further inquiry, however, I found that he was not in the 88 THE LIFE STORY OF least to blame for having left Dr. Ackley's, as I will explain: Dr. Ackley had a college in the Mechanic block, where he gave students lessons in anatomy, etc., and my brother being naturally timid the students thought it great fun to frighten him. In those days subjects for dissection were gotten from —no one except those obtaining them knew where, as some are, perhaps, at the present time, and often bodies were left in the doctor's barn until they could be taken to the college. The hired man would let my brother, child that he was, see such things, and that, together with the stories and tricks of the students, so frightened him that he was afraid for his life. This information, gathered from different sources at the time, was all cor- roborated by William himself afterwards, when he told me of the trials and hardness of his lot after I went west. When I found that I could hear nothing from the children, I took the stage for Mr. Wemple's, in Collamer. Mr. and Mrs. Wemple were very glad to see me, and took my baby into their hearts at once. He soon became such a pet with them that I was relieved of much of the care of him, and SARAH M. VICTOR. 89 began to regain my health. I passed a very pleas- ant summer except the anxiety I felt about my husband and little girl. I soon learned that Wil- liam had gone to our father, who was then living in Fort Wayne, Indiana. At last the time drew near for my husband's arrival, and one day I was delighted by seeing him coming, bringing our little girl with him. He explained that he had sold out what we had and made up his mind to remain in Ohio, if he could get employment. My husband had relatives living in Mentor, Lake county, and after a few weeks, we went to visit them. While there a quilting party was held by one of the neighbors and we were invited. Soon after we arrived, one of the guests asked the lady of the house if her children had yet re- covered from the chicken-pox. “I think they have,” said the lady, “but they might give it yet.” I was frightened at once, and the quilting party had no more pleasure for me. I thought of my children, both of whom I had with me, and more particularly of my baby; for I remembered what the physician had said. The ladies all thought 90 THE LIFE STORY OF there was little danger in chicken-pox, and so I remained; but my mind was not at ease a mo- ment, and as soon as supper was over we went home. I told my husband, and to please me he cut our visit short, and we returned to Mr. Wem- ple's. “Oh, the chicken-pox is nothing,” said Mrs. Wemple, and then told me that she was glad the children would have it while they were where she could care for them. At the end of the usual time, the disease made its appearance on both of the children. My little - girl did not mind it much, but the baby was very sick. Yet, the physician said he would recover. In a few days I noticed that his throat was cank- ered, and the doctor came and again prescribed for him, still saying he was in no danger. He soon seemed better, and we all thought he would get well. My husband had got employment, and thinking all danger over, went to his work, and soon the doctor came in. I told him my baby was better, but he shook * * his head, and said, “Your baby is dying. I could not believe him, but in less than three hours my baby was dead. I always took the loss SARAH M. VICTOR. 91. of friends very hard, but I thought the death of my baby would kill me. Dull as all the above may be to the reader, the remains of that little babe were destined to bear a part in the trial in which I was convicted of murder; and I give the full details for the reason that I shall have occasion to refer to the matter farther on. As soon as I recovered from the prostration caused by the death of my child, we rented a part of a house of a Mr. Cary Meeker and went to housekeeping. We remained there until a little cottage belonging to Mr. Meeker's father became empty, when we moved into it. It was a nice, cozy, little place, and we were soon very comfort- ably settled by ourselves. Not long afterwards, my husband's health be- gan to fail, and as he had an opportunity to get a situation as a traveling salesman, the physician advised him to accept it, which he did; often be- ing away from home a week at a time, but always coming home on Saturday night. As we lived near Mr. Wemple's, I often went there with my little girl, sometimes staying a day or two; but we always looked forward to Sat- urday with pleasure. 92 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER VI. A SEcoRD SON.—Move To CLEVELAND–NoT SIcK, BUT DRUNK —A LADY BoARDER—JokING OF A TRICK-VISIT to FATHER SMITH's—RETURN Home-Away ALL WINTER-NEITHER MoREY NOR FooD–A MINISTER’s CALL–WoRK–SoME Hot BUNs—SEwing–Go To ToI.E.Do—Not Sick, BUT DESTITUTE —Would Not Work—A LETTER-Box—“HE ''-A YouNg. GIRL–FEAR For My LIFE. N September of 1850 a second son was born, I and I thought it had come to fill the place of the one I had lost; but while I was yet too ill to realize my loss he was laid away in the same grave with my little Charlie. My illness was pro- tracted and wearisome, but as soon as I was able, my husband thought it best to move into Cleve- 1and. I did not like the idea, but my husband said it would be better for him, and so we went. For a time after we moved into the city every- thing went well. My husband was very kind to me, and as he got good wages, he often bought things for my comfort that I could well have done with- out. But, gradually, a change came over him, SARAH M. VICTOR. 93 and I began to be troubled about his conduct. He would stay out late at night, always, however, having some excuse, of extra work or collecting money due him, or something similar. I had never known him to drink liquor, and had no fear of his ever contracting the habit. But one night he came home very late, and saying he was sick, threw himself on the bed. I was frightened by his singular appearance, and as he would not take any of the simple remedies I offered him, I went for a doctor. When the doctor came, he looked at my husband and said, “Why, he's only drunk.” I had remained up till that late hour in suspense, fearing something had happened to him, and then to have him come home in a state of helpless intoxication was too much, I thought, to bear. But I need not describe my feelings; many a wife has had the same experience. I took my child and went into another room, and at last became calmer, and thought I would beg him never to come home in that state again. In the morning he was very penitent and made many promises. I believe he fully intended to break himself of the habit, which he had taken 94. THE LIFE STORY OF pains to keep from me, but which had been grow- ing on him, but it never left him; and while he never came home in quite so helpless a state again, he often came in a condition that made me dread his coming, and which gradually destroyed all my faith in him, and all feeling of dependence on him. As my husband soon began to lose interest in work, I concluded to take some boarders and help keep up our home. So we rented a larger house, and in a short time I had it well filled. I did not feel able to hire much help, and so did the entire work, with the help of one girl, often working from five o'clock in the morning till midnight. After a time my health began to fail under the strain, and as the house in which we lived was about to be sold, we took a smaller one and again went by ourselves. - When father and mother Smith heard of my state of health, they wrote for me to come and spend the summer with them I did not feel that I ought to go, and had decided not to accept their invitation, when a little incident, which is in keep- ing with a great part of my married life, occurred that made me change my decision. One day a nicely dressed woman called at the SARAH M. VICTOR. 95 house and told me she was looking for a place to board where she could pay a part money and do work for the rest, as she was a widow with small means and had some business in the city that would keep her some weeks. She told a very plausible story, and said she wanted a quiet place where she could be as one of the family. I told her I would have to consult with my hus- band, and would let her know the next day whether I could accommodate her or not. When my husband came home I spoke to him about it, and he said I had better take her and have her assist me in some sewing I had to do. She came early in the morning for her answer, and when I told her she could stay, she ordered her baggage and was soon settled with us. In telling her story to me, she had said she had lost both her husband and only child, and I felt great sympathy for her. So I took her down street with me, and tried to make her stay with us as pleasant as possible. But one day when we were down town I met a gentleman with whom I was acquainted, and stopped a moment to speak to him. My boarder walked on a few steps, when the gentleman said: THE LIFE STORY OF “Do you know that woman, Mrs. Smith?’” “Oh, yes,” I answered; “she is a stranger her?, and I am taking her around to see the city.” “Does your husband know you go with her?” he then asked. “Why, certainly,” I said; “she is boarding with us.” - “Boarding with you!” he exclaimed, and then said, “That woman knows more about this city than you do.” - I saw that something was wrong, and I asked, “What can I do?” “Do nothing. I'll agree she shall leave the city quicker than she came,” he answered. I went home in no pleasant state of mind, but said nothing. That evening as my husband, the woman and I were together in the sitting-room, I took a pitcher to go after some water. As I was closing the door I stopped a moment, wondering whether my husband had been so base as to act the part my suspicions pointed to, or not. My curiosity was soon fully satisfied. After joking about the trick that had been played on me, their conversation was such as to leave no doubts as to their relations towards each other. I found SARAH M. VICTOR. 97 that my husband had sunk so low as to bring a disreputable woman into the house with his own wife, and that, too, by exciting his wife's sympathy. “That plan worked well; my wife is one of the tenderest-hearted women in the world,” said he. Yet, I said nothing. I dreaded a scandal, and then, I trusted somewhat to the gentleman's promise that he would see that she left the city. The next morning a boy brought the woman a note, and on reading it, she said some one of her friends was very sick and she would have to go. So she went away without giving further trouble or knowing that I had learned her character. But I felt such a bitterness towards my husband, and such contempt for his conduct that I could not bear to remain in his society, and I concluded to go to father Smith's. When my husband in- sisted on knowing why I had changed my mind, I told him I knew of his actions and that I thought we had better separate until we should both have had time to think what was best to be done. When I arrived at our old home in Wisconsin, I told mother Smith the whole story, as I had done on a former occasion. She felt very badly over it, 98 - THE LIFE STORY OF but begged of me not to separate from Charles, much as she felt that I ought to. He was her only son, and she had faith that he would yet reform. Mother Smith was a good woman, and her kindness went far towards reconciling me to thoughts of again living with my husband. He wrote often, and at last came himself, in the fall, and I returned to Cleveland with him. After our return, my husband got into the insur- ance business, and was away from home nearly all winter. For awhile he sent me money, but along towards spring he wrote that he was sick and could send none. It had been a long time since I had received the last, and the rent was far past due, while I only had about a dollar with which to get food for myself and child. One day a minister called and wanted me to renew my subscription to the American Messen- ger, a paper I had taken for some years. The subscription fee was but twenty-five cents, and when I said I had not the money, he looked incred- ulous, and remarked that I looked comfortably situated. I told him that my husband was away from home and sick, and that although my house SARAH M. VICTOR. 99 was comfortably furnished, I should have to get something to do to earn a living for myself and child. I did not tell him that my watch was in pawn for the last month's rent, nor that I had nothing in the house in the way of food except a piece of bread and a little butter, which was, indeed, the case. He said his wife had spoken to him of someone who wanted some shirts made, and he would ask her about it. But I must have immediate relief for myself and child, and I prayed that something would happen that would bring it. I put on my bonnet and wraps and thought I would go once more to the postoffice. Just as I was about to start, a little boy, ragged and cold-looking, came to the door and asked for something to eat. I did not know what to do, but I thought of my own child, who was away at school, and then of the little fellow who was both hungry and cold, and I went and got half of the bread and butter that I had saved for my own and gave it to him. It was then noon, and I had nothing to eat for myself, and, in fact, had eaten nothing but a piece of bread for my breakfast. But I went to the postoffice, and finding no letter, went around to 100 THE LIFE STORY OF where a man, with whose family I had some acquaintance, dealt in eggs, poultry and butter, buying the last from farmers and re-working it for market. Almost as soon as I went in, the man began to tell how difficult it was to get help in his work. He said that the woman he employed had not come that day, and that his wife, who assisted him, could not do it all. - “How would you like to have me help you?” I asked. He thought I was joking, and said he would pay me and throw in a chicken. I took off my wraps and went to work, and in a short time he began to think I meant what I said. When night came he packed a basket with butter and eggs, not forgetting the promised chicken, and sent it home after me. But when I reached home I was not only very tired, but very hungry, and I had no bread, even if the other things had been cooked, which they were not. But that, even, had been provided for. Just as I was taking off my bonnet, an old lady who lived next door rapped on my window and asked me if I would accept some hot English buns, SARAH M. VICTOR. 101. - “just as they were made in the old country.” I took them and thanked her. When my basket came I gave her some eggs, and I do not think she ever suspected just how acceptable those hot buns Were. - The minister did not forget his promise, and his wife brought me half a dozen shirts to make, pay- ing me a dollar in advance. My prayer was answered; I had got work, and that would keep me from want. I soon got my watch out of pawn and earned enough to support myself and child be- sides; but still I heard nothing from my husband. By the time navigation opened on the lake, I had earned ten or twelve dollars above my ex- penses, and thought of going to Toledo, where my husband was, to see what the trouble was. Some acquaintances of mine had a daughter who was engaged to a man employed on the lakes, and as she wanted to go, they told me that if I would go with her, they would get me a pass. So we went to Toledo. When I found my husband he was not sick, nor had he been ; but for some reason he had neither money nor decent clothing. He claimed that he had money due him, and I gave him ten dollars and went back with my friend. 102 THE LIFE STORY OF Some time after that, my husband came home, but without money or inclination to work. I had plenty to do, and could support myself and child, but to support a drinking husband was something I would not undertake. He had opportunities to get employment, but either the wages or work never suited him, and he would do nothing. One day, however, a man came after him to do some carpenter work. He made the objection that the pay was not sufficient. I told him he had better take the place till he could get something better, but he would not go, and the man went away. I then told my husband that if he would not work, I would not; that it was his place to support me, and not mine to support him. I then folded up the sewing I was doing and told him I would do no more until he went to work. He took his hat and said he would find the man and engage with him. He did so and worked quite steadily for a while. While my husband was traveling in the insur- ance business, he formed the acquaintance of a woman at Marion, Ohio, and soon after he returned from Toledo, I found that she was writ- ing to him. While mending a vest of my hus- SARAH M. VICTOR. 103 band's, one day, I found the number of a letter- box in the pocket. I sent a note down to the office by a German girl who worked for me at the time, requesting the letters in the box. When the girl returned she brought a letter from the woman at Marion, inviting my husband to visit her there. “The man asked me why they didn't come for the letter,” said the girl, and upon questioning her I found that it was only through her ignorance of the English language that the letter had been given to her, so willing were the officials to aid a man to his own as well as his family's ruin. Having been but a short time in this country, the girl, like many of the German people, always spoke of a woman as “he,” and when the post- master had asked her why the letter had not been called for in person, she had answered that “he.” meaning me, was not able to come. My husband had been talking of going to Marion, saying he had business there, and the letter put me in possession of a knowledge of the nature of the business that he was to spend the time and money properly belonging to his family upon. When he came home, I told him of the 104. THE LIFE STORY OF letter and asked him if he intended to continue in the course he had taken. Up to that time he had always professed penitence when confronted with any of his misdeeds; but on that occasion he went into a violent passion, and raved and threatened till I was really in fear of him. He accused me of undue intimacy with the post- master and threatened to shoot us both. I did not dare to tell him I had sent the girl, and thus subject her to his abuse, and so was obliged to write a note to the postmaster and explain the matter, so that he might know how to meet my husband's rage. By that means the postmaster was enabled to laugh the matter off, telling my husband it was better to have been his wife than some other person, as wives would forgive, etc. Then my husband came home and told me the conversation he had had with the postmaster, and renewed his oft-given promises of reformation. But the promises were never kept, hardly a month elapsing at any time in which some act of un- faithfulness did not come to my knowledge. One day I received a note requesting me to call at a certain number in the city, with my little girl, and bring a picture of my husband. I at once SARAH M. VICTOR. 105 guessed the purpose of the request, and as I needed no further evidence of my husband's misdeeds, I would not have gone had it not have been that I felt it might be the means of saving some innocent person, which, in fact, proved to be the case. When I arrived at the house I found a young girl, whom my husband had promised to marry, telling her he was a single man. Her friends had learned the truth, and had taken that way to save her. I shall never forget her grief when she saw there was no doubt left. She went into an- other room before I left, and returning with a dress pattern that my husband had given her, handed it to my little girl and said: “Give that to your father, and tell him that perhaps someone will tempt his little girl that way.” I could fill many pages with similar recitals, but will only say that my husband seemed to have lost all shame, frequenting houses of ill-fame; often bringing women of the street home with him for meals, until I learned their character and forbade it; and drinking constantly, sometimes being in a condition that made me fear for my life. - 106 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER VII. Visit FROM FATHER SMITH-TAKEs His SoN Home–CHILD BORN-ANot HER WIFE – Go to Chicago–FINDING THE CERTIFicATE– RENEwed Promises — Reconciliation— RETURN to Clevel AND–HARD BEGINNING—LookING For HELP—Getting Out of DeBt-Letter From My Hus- BAND-Go to JANEsville—Excite MENT—CoMEs Home—IN FEAR–With A HAckMAN–CoMMENTs. L” in the fall of 1853, father Smith came to see us. I was very glad that he came at the time he did, for two reasons: first, because he was a good man and always kind to me; and second, because he would have an opportunity to see how his son kept his promises. I was expecting to be confined in child-birth in January, and as I felt that I could not live through the ordeal and bear the treatment I had reason to expect from my husband, I told father Smith that he would have to take Charles home with him, or I should have to appeal to the law for protection. I thought that if he was with his own people I would feel that he was under SARAH M. VICTOR. 107 good influences, and as I had some money that I had saved from my work at sewing and some given me by my husband when he was in an auc- tion store, which he kept at one time, I knew that I could live until my child was born, after which I could earn my living as I had been obliged to do before. After talking matters over and seeing for him- self, father Smith concluded that nothing better could be done than to take his son home with him and see if he could not, with mother Smith's help, bring him to some sense of his duties; and my husband at last consented to go. My child was born in less than three months after father Smith and Charles went away, which shows the falsity of the rumor circulated to assist in my conviction for murder, to the effect that the child then born was illegitimate. Father Smith and all the family knew the circumstances, and my husband never doubted the paternity of any of his children. After the birth of my child, father and mother Smith wrote to me and begged me to consent for Charles to return to me. I was too ill to answer, and when my baby was about two months old, 108 THE LIFE STORY OF they wrote again, saying Charles had gone away and they did not know where he was. The next that I heard from my husband was through a letter received from Chicago, saying that he was in that city living with a woman whom he called his wife, and that parties were ready to arrest him as soon as they could find that he was not legally married to her. The letter was written by a person who knew of my being married to Mr. Smith, but who thought I might have become divorced from him. I answered at once that Mr. Smith was my husband, but begged that he should not be arrested. After I had written the letter, I began to think that it might be the means of having my husband convicted of bigamy, and I could not rest. I talked with some friends and they told me that would likely be the result. I had but little money, but I succeeded in getting a pass to Chicago, and started with my child to find its father and save him from the law. When I reached Chicago, I went to the Tremont house, and summoning the proprietor, told him my errand and situation. He told me that I could remain there till I found my husband, and that he SARAH M. VICTOR. 109 would furnish a carriage for me to drive where I thought best to go. As soon as I was somewhat rested, I drove to a boarding-house where I thought there was a possibility of finding my hus- band, and a lady came out, when I asked if Mr. Smith boarded there. “Not now,” she answered; “he took his wife to her father's, yesterday, and when they come back they will board at the hotel,” naming the one at which they would stop. I told the driver to drive to the hotel. They there told me that my husband would be there at seven o'clock, and also directed me to the shop where he worked. I found the proprietor of the shop in his office, and asked him if Mr. Smith worked for him. He said he did, but was absent at the time, and then asked if I was a relative. I told him I was Mr. Smith's wife and had come to find him. He seemed incredulous, and I said that if I could find my husband's baggage, I could get my certificate of marriage, as he had taken it when he left home. Upon that, the man said, “His trunk is here; but I don't know about allowing a stranger to open it.” 110 THE LIFE STORY OF I told him I would open the trunk in his presence and take nothing but the certificate. He said it was hard to deny a woman the opportunity to defend herself and children, and consented to let me open the trunk. I found the certificate, and when he saw it he said it was right for me to have it, and told me he would withhold my husband's wages till he was sure I had made some arrange- ments to return home. I went back to the hotel where my husband was expected and, dismissing the carriage, waited for his return. At last he came, and alone, having left the woman somewhere else. When I told him why I had come, he broke down and cried, telling me I was the best woman in the world, calling himself a wretch and begging me to live with him again. He made the same promises of reforma- tion, and I gave up to the same weakness of mind and promised to take him back. He had not money enough to take us both home, and as the man he worked for said he would employ him as long as he wished to stay, it was agreed that he should remain for a time. I went back to the Tremont house, told the proprietor of my success and asked for my bill. SARAH M. VICTOR. 111 “You have acted the part of a true wife,” he said, “and I have made no bill against you.” He then made my baby a present of a gold piece and wished me success. - I came back to Cleveland and went to work at millinery and dressmaking. I found the beginning very hard, with my young child to care for, and looked for my husband to send me money to assist me. But I looked in vain, with the excep- tion of the receipt of five dollars, which he sent about two weeks after my return. Months came and went, and I worked on, get- ting out of debt and taking care of my children, but hearing nothing from my husband. At last I received a letter from him dated at Janesville, Wisconsin, in which he said he was sick and had little money, and again asked me to take him back. I had been so often deceived that I had little faith in any story my husband would tell; but I thought that if he was really sick and in need, I must not desert him, and, as some friends said they would keep my babe during my absence, I went to Janesville. When I arrived, I went to the principal hotel and asked if they could tell me where Mr. Smith boarded. - 112 THE LIFE STORY OF y “He boards here,” was the answer, and I was then told that he was selling dry goods at auction in the city. When I said that I was his wife, the landlord refused to give me a room, saying that Mr. Smith was a single man and about to be married. “She's some fast woman,” I heard a man say. “Smith hasn't any wife. I'm to be groomsman at his wedding.” That was a worse state of affairs than I had looked for, but I told the landlord that if he would allow me to sit in his parlor till they could bring my husband, if he denied me, I would go away. “That's fair,” he said, and started out, in a short time returning with my husband, not hav- ing told him why he was wanted. As they reached the door, my husband stoppe and exclaimed, “My God!” - I then asked him to tell the landlord whether I was his wife or not. “Why, you are my wife, of course, but I never expected you would live with me again,” he an- swered. At that the landlord offered his hand and begged my pardon. I noticed that he was both indig- SARAH M. VICTOR. 113 nant and excited; but it was nothing to the excitement that arose when others learned the facts. The people threatened to lynch my hus- band, and if he had not kept out of their reach, I believe they would have carried their threat into execution. He had professed to be a young widower, and had deceived everybody, the young girl he was to marry, most of all. When on my way to Janesville, there was a slight collision on the road, and I, among others, was thrown forward against a seat. I had not thought myself hurt, but the next morning after my arrival I found I could not rise from my bed without great difficulty. The effects of the mis- hap gave me time to reflect, and I made up my mind that I would tell my husband that he could do as he liked about going back to Cleveland, but that I would never come to him nor look after him further. When he came out of hiding, he heard that I was sick, and he begged so hard of the landlord, who was very bittertowards him for his deception, to be allowed to see me that he finally got his con- sent and came. He renewed his protestations of penitence, and I gave him my decision. I returned 114. THE LIFE STORY OF to Cleveland and again went to work, having been away from my baby over a week. A few weeks after my return from Janesville, I received a letter from the people there, saying my husband had taken a woman and left the place. I kept on at my work, and as a long time elapsed without other news, I had begun to think I should hear nothing further, when, one day, I went to answer the bell and found my husband at the door. I could do nothing but make the best of the matter, and so allowed him to remain. A Mr. Mullen gave him work, and he said he would help me to take care of the children. I afterwards learned that he had been obliged to come home to escape arrest for another difficulty with a woman. A short time after my husband came we moved into a house on Ohio street, owned by a Mr. Lawrence. I had for some time been thinking to make an effort to buy a house and have a home of my own. My husband would never do anything to assist me, but I was at last determined to make the effort at the first opportunity, and saved every dollar I possibly could. While we were living on Ohio street I heard that a house near us was for sale on easy payments. I SARAH M. VICTOR. 115 said nothing to my husband about it, knowing it would be of no use; but I saved all the money I could get from him, as well as all I could save from my own earnings. After a while I found that by pawning my watch and what jewelry I had, I would have enough to make the first payment, and I went to the owner and had the papers made out in my own name before my husband knew anything of it. I then told my husband what I had done, and entreated him not to spend his money for liquor, but help to make the payments, that we might have a home for the children. He promised, as usual, and for a time he did give some assistance. But he kept the same class of people around him, and before long began to drink and conduct him- self so badly that I was constantly in fear of him. He was away from home at night a great part of the time, but one morning about two o'clock he came to the house and succeeded in getting in before I was aware of it, bringing the driver of the carriage in which he had come with him. He was very much intoxicated, and made remarks that I would not allow my daughter, who was then well 116 THE LIFE STORY OF grown, to hear, and that I could not myself endure. - I at last got to the door, thinking to call for assistance, but seeing the carriage, I told the driver that if he did not leave the house and take my husband with him, I would shoot the horses. I had nothing to shoot with, but, fortunately, they did not know that. The driver only laughed, thinking it was but a threat; but my husband, even in his drunken con- dition, realized that I would bear no more, and blurted out, “By G–, if she says she will, she will,” upon which they both went away. Soon after that, my husband threatened to shoot me if I would not give up the papers by which I held the house, and I had to have him put under bonds to keep away from me. That was the last of my life with my husband. The recital of all this long train of minute details of the infelicity of my married life has been as painful to me as its perusal has been tedious to the reader; but when it is remembered that my separation from my husband, distorted and mis- represented, went far towards prejudicing the public mind at the time of my arrest, and, conse- SARAH M. VICTOR. 117. quently, had its effect on the jury, by which I was convicted in the face of such doubt as would have been overwhelming to an unprejudiced mind, my motive in giving it will be apparent. The preceding is the true story of the life upon which men and women commented, as I have been told by people whose truthfulness is not to be doubted, in the following manner: “Oh, there's no doubt of her guilt,” said the men; “she lived the kind of life that leads to such things, and ruined her husband.” And the women—I regret to say this, when I think of the many who hold higher views—but, the women, among them many honest wives and mothers, doubtless, but ignorant of the subject upon which they spoke, said, “Nobody can con- vince me she is innocent. Why, she had one of the best of husbands, and she conducted so bad he had to leave her.” The above are quoted verbatim, as samples of many similar remarks that have come to me. To the former, I can say that whether the kind of life I lived leads in the direction of murder, or not, it never arrived at it, in my case; and as to | 118 THE LIFE STORY OF ruining my husband, the public is herein given the facts, and it can decide for itself. As to the latter remark, I will only make the correction that my husband did not, finally, leave me, but I, him, as will be seen by further reading. SARAH M. VICTOR. 119 CHAPTER VIII. AcquaintANCE witH C. C. CARLTON.—INSULT—PAYING A BILL –THE Rock AND THE WHIRLPool—Divorce—BREAK UP Housekeeping–SoME BUSINESS MATTERS–Is HE NOT Too OLD-DRIFTED ON.—BUYING A Stove—CHANGE of NAME– A Door-PLATE–House CAUGHT FIRE-SUFFOcATED–MYS- tery of THE FIRE-How IT CAUGHT-MY CHILD’s CoNFEs- SION.—INTIMATIONS. FTER the night on which I forced my hus- band to leave the house, I lived in constant fear and anxiety. My husband threatened to take the children from me, and I was obliged to take them into the country to the family of Mr. and Mrs. Merrill, of whom I have spoken before as having always befriended me. I then thought I had better get my house insured, not knowing what might happen during my temporary absences from home to avoid meeting my husband, whom I had fully made up my mind to legally separate from. Some weeks previous to my final resolve to 120 THE LIFE STORY OF obtain a divorce, a man, who said his name was Carlton, called at my house soliciting insurance, but as I was not then prepared, I told him that if I concluded to take out a policy, I would call on him. So when I decided to get my house insured, I went down town and inquired for the office of Mr. Carlton, the insurance agent. I was directed to the office of C. C. Carlton. He was not the man who had called on me, but as he was a well- known insurance agent, that made no difference, and I engaged a policy. That was my first acquaintance with C. C. Carlton. When I bought the house on Ohio street, I was not aware that it was encumbered in any way; but upon my return from the insurance office, a man, whose name it is not necessary to give, called on me and said he held a lien, the exact amount of which I cannot now recall, on the house, and requested payment. He convinced me of the gen- uineness of the claim, but the amount, though small, was entirely beyond my reach at the time, and I was very much troubled. He said he would not urge its payment that day, but would call again soon. After the man had gone, I wrote a note to Mr. SARAH M. VICTOR. 121 Carlton, telling him not to make out the policy, as I should not be able to pay for it, having dis- covered there was a debt on my house that must be paid at once. Two days afterwards the man came for his money. I had five dollars and had thought to give him that and ask him to give me time in which to pay the balance. But he made some propositions to me, which I need not detail, and upon my refusing to accept them, he became angry, and threatened to put me and my children into the street. I thought he could do so, and when he mentioned my children, who were, as I have said, in the country, I began to cry. He was talking loud and insultingly, when the door- bell rang, and before I could answer it, C. C. Carl- ton walked in, having been at the door and heard all that was said. He stepped up to the man and said, “Mr. —, I am surprised at your conduct; I was at the door and, unavoidably, heard your remarks.” He then told the man that, although he had re- ceived a note from me saying I would not be able to pay for a policy I had ordered, he had made it out and brought it to me, thinking I would be able 122 THE LIFE STORY OF to pay for it in time, and concluded by asking him the amount of his claim. - The man was much abashed, and said it was “no matter about the bill.” But Mr. Carlton insisted, and finally paid the bill himself, saying I could pay him when I got the money. I was very grateful to Mr. Carlton for the kindness, and as soon as I got enough money I paid him the amount of the bill. When I paid him the money, he told me that whenever I needed assistance, to come to him, I did so on several occasions, the fee for the decree of divorce from my husband and other expenses having to be paid, and he always kept his word, and, appar- ently, with no selfish or impure motive. I did not, until it was too late, realize that I was shunning the rock only to fall into the whirl- pool, or vice versa. But, as I look back now, even with the clearer spiritual vision that time and suffering have brought, I cannot dispel the feeling—it is, doubtless, not unmixed with self-pity —but I have the feeling that my situation at that time, without money, and two children to care for, with evil and insult on every side, was not unlike that of mariners off the Grecian coast, SARAH M. VICTOR. 123 who, according to the old-time story, when in the vicinity of Scylla and Charibdis under lowering skies and with in-shore winds, found it difficult to avoid both. Mr. Carlton was wealthy and a widower, hav- ing recently lost his wife. Being divorced from my husband, I was a free woman, but was nearly heart-broken from all I had passed through and very much discouraged over the outlook for the future. - I will here say that when I applied for a divorce from my husband, I did so on the grounds of the misdeeds before detailed, and asked for the cus- tody of my children, telling the judge that I did not care for a divorce if he could not grant the latter. When the hearing of the evidence came, I requested the judge to read the depositions silently; for the reason that I did not want my daughter, who was present, to hear the charges made against her father. That is all the secrecy there was about my obtaining my divorce, much as has been said about it. The judge granted all I asked, and told me there was never a wife or mother before him for whom he felt more sympathy. 124. THE LIFE STORY OF About the time of my obtaining my divorce, I broke up housekeeping and went to live at Mr. Merrill's, where my children were, giving my house on Ohio street over to Mr. Carlton. I remained at Mr. Merrill's a considerable length of time, but finally returned to the city, when Mr. Carlton told me that he would buy a house on Webster street, as he could get it much cheaper for cash than I could on payments, and would let me have it for the same price he paid for it. The house he bought was No. 18 Webster street, and I moved into it on those conditions. I had at last, in a measure, fallen into the very evil I had so long combated in my husband. Through Mr. Carlton's many acts of kindness, I had grown to have perfect faith in him, and had not so much as the slightest doubt that he would make me his wife in time. He told me that on account of his mother's objections, he did not think he would marry while she lived; but he was very anxious for me to become acquainted with her, saying he thought she would like me if she knew me. I did so, and one day she said to me, “Don’t you think Christopher is too old for you? You seem SARAH M. VICTOR. 125. - - young for him. And then, his disposition, do you think you would like that?” I answered that I thought he had an excel- lent disposition (my sight has been cleared since then); but she shook her head and said that if he brought a wife home, she would have to go. I assured her that he had said he would not marry while she lived, upon which she looked up, in a way peculiar to her, and said, “Oh, then you are waiting for me to die! I thought Christopher was anxious about something.” Many times since then I have regretted that I did not tell that mother the whole truth and trust to her sense of right. But at the timethere seemed no hope that she would favor a change, and I feared that I would incur her son’s displeasure if I acted contrary to his wishes. So I drifted on, sometimes in torture of mind, and sometimes at ease, blinded by the thought that I had a home and comforts for myself and children. I can give no excuse for my life at that time, further than may have been seen, except that the constant sight of evil makes it tolerable. I had suffered from, and condoned so many out- 126 THE LIFE STORY OF rages of my husband's that such things had become familiar to me. Pope's words: “Sin is a monster of such hideous mien That to be hated, needs but to be seen; But seen too oft, familiar grows its faee; First we endure, then pity, then embrace”— are quite as true of folly and its attendant evils, as of other sin, I think. When I went to live on Webster street, few peo- ple in the neighborhood knew me, and as I wished to live as secluded as possible, I went out very little, going only when my business called me and occasionally to visit my friends in the country. I worked mostly at making shirred bonnets, which I left at some millinery stores to be sold. I was seldom idle at any time when able to work. I was constantly in fear that my husband would steal my children from me, and for that and other reasons, I desired to make no more acquaintances than necessary. During that state of matters, I went down town one day to buy a stove. I selected one, and on giving the dealer the number at which to deliver it, he asked, “What name?” Just at the moment, my mind was taken from SARAH M. VICTOR. 127 the subject by some customers coming in, and thinking the man wanted to know which stove I had selected, I answered, “Victor,” that being the name of the one I had chosen. When the stove was delivered, on looking at the bill I found it made out to “Mrs. Victor, No. 18 Webster street.” At first I thought of the matter only as a harm- less mistake, but was glad I had not had to give my name. As I thought the matter over, the latter feeling gave rise to the wish that everybody knew me by the name the stove dealer did, for the protection of my children both from their father and scandal, should the latter arise. In talking with my friends in the country, I laughingly said, “You must call me Mrs. Victor, y now, for I have a new name,” at the same time relating the incident and expressing the wish I have mentioned. They knew the fear I had of losing my children, and said that to put a plate on my door bearing the name of Victor might mislead Mr. Smith, and I did so. After that those who did not know my real name took up the new one, and I soon became “Mrs. Victor” to all. There never was any claim made by me, nor to my knowledge, by my friends, --- 128 THE LIFE STORY OF that I had, through a second marriage, any right to the name, but after it came into such generai use, I adopted it and have held it ever since. I kept so secluded that my neighbors knew little of me until an accident occurred, which I will now relate. One morning I was expecting my friends from the country, and after finishing my morning's work, was about to dress for their coming. A man was cutting a tree across the way, and as my little boy was alone with me, I told him he could stand at the parlor window and look through the shutters to amuse himself while I went up-stairs to dress. “Don’t go up 'tairs; 'tain't nice up there,” said he. I thought he did not want to be left alone, and saying I would hurry, opened the stairway door, when, to my dismay, I was met by dense smoke. I at once thought the house was burning, but could not imagine how it had caught fire. I got a pail of water and hurried up, half strangled, and as no fire was visible, I felt of the walls and floor to see if they were hot. I then raised a window for air, at the same time calling for help. As I SARAH M. VICTOR. 129 turned back and attempted to pull the clothes from the bed, flames burst out and I saw where the fire was. I caught the pail and threw the water on, but the steam and smoke suffocated me, and when I came to I was in a neighbor's house, where I had been carried insensible. In that way my neighbors began their acquaint- ance with me. Everybody was very kind, some saying they were rather glad than sorry the ac- cident had occurred, as I had kept myself so secluded before. For a long time I did not know how the fire originated; but as I had matches that ignited very easily, I supposed that I had left some on the stand and they had caught in the clothes when my daughter had made the bed. I gave that as the probable solution of the mys- tery until one day my little boy said, “Mamma, what makes you say sister set the bed on fire?” On his asking the question, I explained why I thought so. He then exclaimed, “Oh, mamma!” I saw in a moment that he knew something about the matter, and on my questioning him he told me that he had gone up there when I was at 130 THE LIFE STORY OF work, and taking some matches under the bed, had ignited them on the floor, and when the fire caught he had become frightened and come down. His own expression of it was, “I blowed and blowed, and it wouldn't go out, and I shut the door quick and came to see if the man was cutting the big tree.” The disastrous results of his act had so fright- ened him that he had not dared to tell the facts before, but he was a conscientious, pure-minded child, and he could not bear to see his sister blamed for what he had done himself. The foregoing contains all the facts in regard to the matter; but the occurrence was considered of sufficient importance to be recalled when I was on trial for my life, and although the unconscious condition in which I was carried from the fire must have been well known, the newspapers teemed with intimations that I had been guilty of incendiarism in firing the house I lived in; in that way striving to show a dangerous depravity of character on my part. But that accusation was as nothing, compared with the insinuation that usually accompanied SARAH M. VICTOR. I31 it, and which was that I had taken the life of my own child, my little boy, the particulars of whose death will be found in the following chapter. 132 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER IX. My DAUGHTER—SEEING THE ABSURDITy—A SENSATIONAL RE- Port—DAUGHTER’s MARRIAGE–My Boy’s LAst ILLNEss— MEASLEs—PREDICTING His Own DEATH-PREDICTION FUL- FILLED–Six O'CLock—A NEGATIVE TAKEN.—AN EPITAPH- A Picture–THREE YEAR's AGo–AN Act of KINDNEss– THERE, IN A PRIson—SIXTEEN YEARs—FERTILITY OF BRAINs —A BITTERNEss—BEFORE HE CALLs ME. OR a while after moving to Webster street, I sent my daughter to the academy at Collamer, and later to a select school in the city. I used every means in my power to give her a good education and promote her happiness. As she was still very young, I cautioned her against the attentions of gentlemen and did everything possible under the circumstances to make her life less full of trouble than mine had been. She was a bright, handsome girl, and very mature for her age. I allowed her to receive no gentlemen com- pany, but knowing she must have some recrea- tion, I allowed her to go out occasionally to some SARAH M. VICTOR. 133 select parties, Mr. Carlton always accompanying her and seeing her home. Doubtless some indignant mother will here ex- claim, “Pretty influences to put around a young girl for her protection!” To such I would say that I see all the absurdity now, at sixty, but that one knows the power of adverse circumstances much better after it has been felt than before. Nothing immoral, however, befell my child at that time, much as may have been the danger. But, by going to the parties, she became ac- quainted with a widower, a man much older than herself, and to her marriage with whom I at first strenuously objected. As soon as I learned of the acquaintance I forbade my daughter receiving any further attentions from the gentleman, but in a short time I found that he was taking every means to persuade her to disobey me. He would meet her on her way from school and walk with her, and in various ways contrived to be in her society. At last he enticed her away from home to attend a party with him, and when I found she had gone, I was very much troubled. Of that occurrence there was a highly sensa- 134, THE LIFE STORY OF tional story told by somebody, ending with the startling assertion that I had appeared at the party flourishing a revolver and threatening to shoot those who refused to tell me where my daugh- ter was. The simple facts were that I never left my house that night except to find Mr. Carlton, that he might go after my daughter, which he did. All such matters were brought up at the time of my arrest, given new coloring and significance, and added to the weight that would have tightened the hangman's noose had not the Almighty staid its course. After the occurrence of the party, the man came to me and said that hisintentions were honorable; that he loved my child and wanted to marry her, and asked my consent, telling me that my daugh- ter had sent him. - I thought I could convince her that it was not best, and said I would wait until I had talked with her, before giving my answer. I then had a long talk with my child, but finding her very much determined, and remembering that I had given her few opportunities to make a better choice and could do no better in the future, I consented. Her suitor went down and brought the clerk of court SARAH M. VICTOR. 135 with his book for me to sign, fearing I would change my mind, and, soon after, they were married. It was not long before I regretted having given my consent, as the man seemed entirely unfitted to make any woman happy. He would take my daughter to parties and places of amusement, and then, without any apparent reason, absent him- self and leave her to summon a carriage or accept the escort of some acquaintance. I remonstrated, but it did no good. After my arrest, I lost all knowledge of my child, but I am sure that if she ever failed in wifely duty, the fault was her husband's. Sometime after my daughter's marriage, my little boy, who was then all I had with me, was taken sick and died. One day he had been playing with a little boy who lived across the street, and when he came home he complained of being cold and “hurting all over.” I took off his shoes and sat him near the stove. In a short time he told me that he felt very sleepy, and I laid him on the lounge. He soon went to sleep, but I noticed that his face was unusually red, and having always been told that a child would be inclined to sleep after 136 THE LIFE STORY OF receiving a hard blow or shock, I feared that he had fallen and hurt himself while playing. So I left him sleeping and went over and asked his playmate's mother, Mrs. Sanger, if Charlie, my boy, had hurt himself in any way while there. She said he had not, but that she had noticed that his face paled and reddened often while he was at play. She said the children had been playing “church,” and, as Charlie had been the preacher, she thought his changes of color due to ex- citement. - As I crossed the street to my house, a physician, Dr. Eddy, who lived near, was at his gate, and I asked him to go in with me and see if there was anything the matter with Charlie. “Oh, nonsense,” said the doctor; “you think too much of that child. I saw him coming across the street awhile ago and his cheeks were rosy with health.” I explained why I asked him, and he went in. He found that Charlie had a good deal of fever, but said it was a cold and that he would be over it by morning. He brought some simple remedies, and told me to call him again if necessary. SARAH M. VICTOR. 137 In the morning my boy was no better, and the doctor asked if he had been exposed to the measles, saying his symptoms indicated that dis- ease. Mr. Carlton soon came, and when he saw how sick Charlie was he went down and sent Dr. Wheeler, in whom he had more faith than in Dr. Eddy, to attend him. But I still kept Dr. Eddy, as he was of the same school and lived nearer. On the third day a profuse eruption of measles oc- curred, which showed what the disease was, but did not seem to benefit my child. A few days afterwards he said to me, “Mamma, I'm going to die and go to Heaven, but don't cry as you did when papa was drowned.” I had seen the name of “Charles Smith’’ in the list of those lost in a disaster on Lake Michigan and thought it was his father. Charlie had seen me cry when I read the news, and thought his father dead. His words so overcame me that I put my head down near him and cried, upon which he said he would ask God to take care of me. One day, an old lady by the name of Snyder, but whom we called “Granny,” came in, and thinking to cheer Charlie, offered him ten cents. He pushed the money away and said, “No, 138 THE LIFE story of Granny; give it to some poor little boy, for I'm going to Heaven.” He was one of the most kind-hearted children. He would never see a poor, ragged child but he would ask me to give it something to eat or wear. At last putrid sore throat set in, and as I was very much worn out from loss of sleep, I engaged a good nurse, a Mrs. Carpenter, to assist me. But no care seemed of any avail, and the doctors told me there was little hope. One day at the last, he looked up and said, “Mamma, there's Uncle Lon.” His uncle Alonzo, the husband of one of my sisters, had died about a year before, and thinking that someone had passed who looked like him, I turned towards the window. “Not there, mamma; he's right here. Don't you see him P’’ said he. I shall never forget the despair those words brought, and I shall always believe my child saw his uncle in some way not understood by us here. The next morning, “Granny” came in, and Charlie seemed glad to see her, but told her he Was going to die that night. When the doctors came, I told them I feared he was out of his mind, SARAH M. VICTOR. 139 but on their speaking to him, he knew them both and told them he was going to die at six o'clock, asking them to come again at that time. They told him they would come, and when they went away they told me there was no hope, and that possibly he had predicted the time of his death. In the afternoon he wanted to put his arms around my neck, and when I laid my head down beside him, he prayed God to take care of his 111a111111a. Many times when in prison I thought of that prayer, and in my weakness and doubt, wondered how God could have heard it and yet allowed me to be there. Often when my faith almost failed me I would reason that my darling, innocent boy, only five years old when he died, could not have been mistaken, and my hope would revive. - Towards evening the doctors returned, and on seeing him, said he was going. They sat down and took out their watches, and I heard Dr. Wheeler say he had once had the case of a child that predicted its own death. I could not control my feelings, and did not notice the time, but the people told me my boy died exactly at six o'clock. I did not realize that he was gone, until Mr. 14.0 THE LIFE STORY OF - Carlton, who was present, said, “Poor little Charlie!” Mr. Carlton loved my boy, and that fact has borne its part in my feelings toward him through all the years since. He wept with me over my dead child, and when in my grief I said I had lost my all, he said, “No, you have me; and I promise here, now, never to forsake you.” How well he kept the promise, the public may judge. My daughter and her husband spoke of having a picture taken of Charlie, as we had none, and as he had been in the habit of getting into a large arm-chair I had and going to sleep, we put him into it, that he might look more natural, and had a negative taken. A Mrs. McLaughlin wrote a little poem on his death, the first verse of which I had engraved on his tombstone, and which was as follows: “Thou art gone, my darling child, Thy little life is o'er; Thy ringing laugh and bounding step Shall greet mine ear no more.” Thinking that one who had shown so SARAH M. VICTOR. 14.1 interest would prize a picture of my child, I gave her one, and she seemed to value it highly. Surely, no mind could have foreseen where and under what circumstances I would see that picture again! Three years ago, a nephew of the lady came to the prison and to see me. During our conversa- tion he told me that his aunt, who was then in North Carolina, still had the picture of my child, and on my telling him that I had none—not even the smallest token, however sacred, having been left me when the law and the populace plundered my home—he said he would write to his aunt, and that he was sure she would send me the picture. After a little time, the young man sent me the picture, having received it from his aunt; and I hope God has blessed both for the act of kindness. There, in a prison, among criminals of all kinds, I looked on the pictured face of my dead baby boy for the first time in over sixteen years. Is there a mind that can imagine the memories that came to me then? Is there a heart that can understand the blighting sense of injustice; the dull anguish of helplessness; the torturing pain of desertion that I felt? 142 THE LIFE STORY OF I have often thought since then that it was doubly well that I was innocent of all crime; for had not self-pity at last brought relief in tears, I feel that I would have again lost the reason that had been so fully restored. As previously mentioned, the newspapers—pure public teachers that they should be—teemed with insinuations, at the time of my arrest, that I had murdered this, my only boy. The darkly-hinted- at reasons for the act were various and contra- dictory; some of the accounts tending to show that I had committed the crime in revenge for my child's setting the fire and thus exposing me to the public, and others intimating that I had both set the fire and murdered my boy; leaving the reasons for both acts, probably, to the fertility of such brains as would harbor a thought of either. What particular mind was sufficiently disposed to evil to originate the suspicion that a mother could, without so much as the shadow of any provocation, deliberately murder her innocent baby, only five years old, I have never known; but the wound that the insinuation, heralded by the public press and bandied about by the people as it was, gave me, left a bitterness in my heart that SARAH M. VICTOR. 143 up to the present time I have vainly tried to sub- due. While my mind long ago arrived at a state of forgiveness and sorrow towards those who have wronged and misjudged me in many ways, I have never yet been able to overcome the feeling of intolerance that arises when I think of a nature so veritably brutal as to promulgate, or listen to without protest, the insinuation that an own mother, loving her children as I was known to do, would and did murder her youngest child. But, hoping that God will enable me to cast aside the feeling before He calls me, I will now pass on to further details. 14.4 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER X. A DETERMINATION-GoING to SEE MR. SMITH-THE INTERVIEw –FOREBODED NO GOOD-A REGRET-RETURNED TO CLEVE- LAND – MEETING witH MR. CARLTON – A QUESTION.— Utterly FALSE—SENT A MAN TO CHIcAgo—“READ THIS AT YOUR LEISURE ''-REsolution PUT Away – A TRIP THROUGH THE EAST – West Point – St. CATHERINEs— MontREAL–WHY I LAY BARE THE INCIDENTs. HEN my boy died, Mr. Carlton told me that I could leave everything to him, and I did so. He went to the undertaker and told him, as the undertaker himself, Mr. Duty, told me afterwards, to do by my child as he would if it was his own. That act of Mr. Carlton's naturally increased my affections for him, and as he con- stantly assured me of his devotion to me, I thought I had little cause to doubt him. After my child's death, however, I felt that I could not live as I had been doing any longer. My daughter was married, my boy was dead; and feeling that I no longer had cause to submit to the SARAH M. VICTOR. 14.5 humility of living as an unwedded wife, I deter- mined that I would not. Ever since I had become divorced from my hus- band, he had made threats that if I ever married again, he would shoot both me and the man who married me; and the fear that he might carry the threat into execution had deterred me, in a great measure, from insisting on such a step and possi- bly causing trouble in the future. So, when I came to the conclusion that I must not, could not and would not continue in the way I had been liv- ing, the only course that seemed practicable was for me to go to Mr. Smith, whom I had learned was living in Milwaukee and had again married, and hear for myself what his feelings were; leav- ing my after course to be determined by the inter- view. Mr. Carlton knew that I was discontented after my child died, and I told him I was going away, leaving a key to my house with him, but telling him nothing of my intentions. When \ arrived in Milwaukee, through my making inqui- ries for my former husband, his wife heard that I was in the city and sent for me, as she wanted to ask some questions. I went, and talked with Mr. 14.6 THE LIFE STORY OF Smith and his wife together. I found that he had represented to her that he had procured the divorce. When I corrected that, his wife, who seemed to be a good woman, but already somewhat tried by the unstable nature of her husband, said, “I believe you would go back to her now, if she would take you.” I hastened to allay any such fears on her part, assuring her that my separation from him had been duly considered before made, and was final. When I made the purpose of my coming known I found Mr. Smith as inconsistent as ever, and full of intolerance at the thought of my marrying again. When I parted from his wife I gave her my best wishes for herself and her life with her husband, and with her consent he accompanied me a part of the way to my stopping place. When we were alone he tried to wring a promise from me that would never marry again, knowing that a man whom I had long known there in the west would marry me at any time. Having heard, through parties in Cleveland, as he told me, that Mr. Carlton was visiting me, he said many things about him, SARAH M. VICTOR. 14.7 some true and some false, but all showing that his feelings foreboded no good to him. I refused to make the promise, and advised him to stop the use of liquor, be kind to the woman he had married and yet make something of his life. In that way I parted with him for the last time. When I returned, I did so with the full deter- mination of taking all my goods and leaving Cleveland and Mr. Carlton forever. I had prayed God to direct me, and I believe He brought me to that resolution. Ah! had I only kept it! I had made up my mind to settle up all my affairs and go west, and see if I could not make the future brighter for myself than the past had been. But, after I arrived in Cleveland, as I was walk- ing along Superior street, I met Mr. Carlton. I shall never forget his emotion on seeing me. He caught me in his arms and kissed me, there on the public street, before I could deter him, and seemed perfectly carried away by his feelings. We were not a great distance from his office, and he said, “We must go up and let Lee know you are back.” Mr. Lee was his son-in-law. I was glad to get off the street, and went up. 14.8 THE LIFE STORY OF “Lee, she has come back!” said Mr. Carlton. “I knew she would,” Mr. Lee answered. I would like to ask here if any think it probable that a man having any claim to respectability would greet a “woman of the town” as Mr Carlton greeted me? Yet, it has been reported all through the years of my imprisonment and even since my release that I was a woman of general bad character and kept a disreputable house at No. 18 Webster street. The statement is utterly false, dear reader. I have said the same many times before, but one cannot get a hearing with the public when behind prison bars. Had anyone, however, taken the trouble to go to those who lived near me on Webster street, there would have been no difficulty found in learn- ing the falsity of the assertion. A few kind women did, among other just deeds, go to that trouble, and the result is that I do not write this later reiteration amid the maddening sights and sounds of former times, but out in sight of green trees and grasses, and with the ring of children's laughter coming to my ears. When I went up to my house, some of the neighbors came in to welcome me, and not know- SARAH M. VICTOR. 14.9 ing that I had already seen him, told me that Mr. Carlton had changed so much from worrying over my absence that I would hardly recognize him. They said that on his occasional visits to the house while I was away, they had asked him about me and he had told them I had not written to him. There seemed to be a feeling of sympathy for Mr. Carlton, as everybody knew of his mother's objections to his marrying. The same evening, Mr. Carlton came up to the house, and I told him the determination I had come to. He would hear to nothing of the kird, and told me that he had become so anxious albout me that he had gone to Mr. and Mrs. Merrill, in Nottingham, and had induced Mr. Merrill to go after me, bearing all his expenses and paying him one hundred dollars for going. He said that he first went to a lady with whom I had gone up the lakes, and that as she told him she thought I was in Chicago, he had sent Mr. Merrill to that place, where he still was when I returned to Cleveland. As before mentioned, I had made my house on Ohio street over to Mr. Carlton, and although he had bought the house on Webster street for me, I 150 THE LIFE STORY OF as yet, had no deed of it. So, at the time of my leaving home, I had said that as I was childless and homeless, it mattered little where I went. Mr. Carlton spoke of remembering what I had said, and then took a large envelope from his pocket, and handing it to me, said: “Read this at your leisure, and if you want to, get it re- corded.” The inscription on the envelope read, “Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, Life Lease, Cleveland, Ohio.” I took out the enclosed paper, and saw that it was a life lease on the house I lived in, No. 18 Webster street. I cannot recall the exact wording of the document, but it began with: “In consid- eration of the sum of (here followed either 'two' or ‘three') hundred dollars.” When I had read that far, I wondered what it meant, as I did not know what amount was at that time due me from Mr. Carlton, but I immedi- ately thought that the amount mentioned was what was due from the house on Ohio street, about which there had never been any settlement between us. Upon asking Mr. Carlton about it, he said that the amount mentioned in the lease SARAH M. VICTOR. 151 was what was due me, according to his reckoning. On reading what followed, I found that the lease gave me the place on Webster street, for the length of my “natural life,” with the proviso that I should not, of my own accord, remain away from the premises for a certain space of time, the exact length of which I cannot now remember, but think it was a year or more. I remember of being impressed by what seemed to me the great length of time mentioned, but cannot now definitely recall what it was. I remember distinctly that the lease was signed, “Christopher Columbus Carlton,” and that Mr. Carlton told me that he had signed his full name so that in case of his death there would be no trouble about the lease. There were two or three other names signed to the paper, but, although I suppose they were those of the witnesses, I cannot remember them. Even after Mr. Carlton gave me the lease, I told him that I thought the right course was the one I had determined on; that it would be better for us both in the end. I said that I did not feel satisfied to live as I had done, and as there were obstacles 152 THE LIFE STORY OF in the way, on both sides, of our marrying, I thought he might find someone that would please his people, and could make her his wife. He said that he supposed that if his family had a choice, it would be a certain lady, whom he men- tioned, but that “if she was the last woman on earth,” he would not marry her. When I insisted on carrying out my intentions, he supplicated and reasoned and finally cried, through all assuring me that he could never have so much as the least affection for any other WO111a11. - His tears and pleadings awoke my love for him, which I had earnestly tried to put out of my mind, and I will not deny that pride over his choice of me above all others and thoughts of his wealth had their influence. He renewed his promises, and, with the sophistry current then as well as now, declared them as binding as though made before a clergyman. When I thought of what the future would be away from him, I found my resolution wavering, and I finally put it from me and promised to devote my life to him so long as we both should live. SARAH M. VICTOR. 153 Not long after that, as my mind was still far from being at ease, Mr. Carlton proposed making a trip through the east and the Canadian provinces and taking me with him. We visited all the prin- cipal eastern cities, going, among other places, to West Point, to see Mr. Carlton's son Caleb. We then crossed over to Canada, and at St. Cather- ines met a friend of Mr. Carlton's from Cleve- land, a Mr. Charles Dixon, who was, I be- lieve, a forwarding merchant. On seeing him, Mr. Carlton made the entry, “Charlton and lady” on the hotel register, followed by his own name, C. C. Carlton. I did not like the proceeding, but Mr. Carlton explained it by the same specious reasoning he always used when I objected to his ideas of right. At Montreal we met Joshua R. Giddings of Ohio, and as I had told Mr. Carlton not to again use subterfuge, but to tell the truth, he did so, and I was relieved from embarrassment while in Mr. Giddings' society, which we were at different places. I am aware that in laying bare all the little inci- dents of a part of my life that the recollection of should bring but a sense of humiliation, I expose 154. THE LIFE STORY OF - myself to the condemnation of many who, knowing but few of the facts in my case, owing to the length of time that has elapsed, may think it done with a desire to create a sensation; but, when crime, greed for money, popular prejudice and law combine to hang an innocent woman, and failing in that—even though through the interposition of Providence— with revived energy and added allies endeavor to force her to a lingering death, it would seem to be quite time for her to speak in her own behalf. Possibly there are some who will say that it is past time—that as I have regained my liberty, I should now forget the past and seek rest in the quiet of obscurity. Of such I would ask, why so? Provided that there was an obscurity that would give me rest from thoughts of injustice and protect me from further doubt and scorn, which it must be appar- ent to all, there is not, would it be advisable to allow falsehood to live, and let truth die? I think not. That I could not speak fully before this time, has been through no fault of mine, but may be accred- ited to the forces before mentioned. And now that I am free, even though I had no desire to stand - - - - SARAH M. VICTOR. 155. justly before the world myself for the few years of life that may be granted me, I should consider myself unworthy of the kindness and effort and faith of those who have given me that freedom, did I not let the public know why they worked, with a patience hardly to be estimated, through sixteen long years to secure it. Then, there are intemperance and licentiousness; neglected wives and helpless mothers; false-reason- ing and wealth yet in the world, while courts and juries are still fallible. And I long ago determined that I would give my whole story to the public, with the hope that the number of Samaritans who came to me might be augmented, and similar needs be recognized through mine. 156 THE LIFE STORY OF - . CHAPTER XI. MORE At EASE—AN ERRoR Correct ED–WoRKING IN THE CHURCH-BUYING Lots—My Sister LIBBIE–MARRIEs Dr. GRAY-WoRKING FOR THE SOLDIERs—My Broth ER's EN- LISTMENT—“THE Boys”—A WILL MADE—GETTING THE LIFE INSURANCE—THE WAR CLoses—PAwNED HIS WATCH —GoING to MR. FENNER's—A FALL IN THE BARN–Acci- DENT INSURANCE—PAYING THE PHYsician–REMARKs. FTER we returned to Cleveland my mind was more at ease, as I felt secure in the conviction that Mr. Carlton would give me the protection of the law of our own state should any question arise in regard to our relations. He took me to his house to dine, and we made calls and attended church together. I will here correct another statement of the press or the people—I do not call to mind which: It was said that I was at one time a member of the Euclid Avenue Presbyterian church, and was expelled for misconduct. As I was never a mem- ber of that church, I could not well have been expelled. But I did unite with Trinity church SARAH M. VICTOR. 157 (Episcopal), and was a member in good standing up to the time of my arrest. As I have said, I felt secure in the faith I had in Mr. Carlton's honor, and as I then had no chil- dren to care for, I concluded to devote all the time I could to works of usefulness for others. As the charities of the church to which I belonged offered an opportunity, I entered into them, teaching a class in the Sabbath-school, assisting in looking after the interests of Trinity Church Home for Old Ladies and doing all I could at all times. At that time building-lots in Cleveland did not command the price they do now, and as I had a small sum of money, I bought two lots, and thought I would wait for them to rise in value. I soon sold them for much more than I had paid, and bought again. I repeated the same several times, always doing well on my investments. In that way I began to accumulate the property I owned at the time of my arrest. Somewhere about that time—I cannot recall the date—my youngest sister, Libbie, of whom I have spoken as being the baby at the time I last saw my mother, wrote to me from St. Louis, Missouri, telling me that her husband had deserted her, and - 158 - THE LIFE STORY OF asking me to send her money with which to come to Cleveland. My sister had not escaped the temptations and evils that often beset young girls when beautiful and without proper protection, and had fallen into many errors. She was a beau- tiful woman, dangerously so for her own welfare and consequently that of others. She had married in Cleveland when only fourteen years old, had separated from her husband and gone west, where she married again. By her second marriage she had a child, which, owing to the desertion of its father, she put into an orphan asylum. On my last visit to the west I had, after much trouble, succeeded in restoring her child to her, thinking its care and presence would restrain her from making further mistakes, as she seemed to have a true mother's love for it. I consulted with Mr. Carlton about her coming, and he opposed it; yet I could not shut my ears to such an appeal from the baby I had promised my mother to look after, and so sent her the money. She came to Cleveland, bringing her child with her, and I took them both into my home, caring for the latter as though it was my own. My sister lived with me some months, possibly SARAH M. VICTOR. 159 half a year, when a Dr. Gray, a widower, then living in Cleveland, became infatuated with her, and in spite of all my protests, and although Dr. Gray had a family of young children, she married him. - Dr. Gray was very much devoted to my sister, but, as I had foreseen, the inequality of the circum- stances—my sister's love of admiration and the ideas she had adopted, against Dr. Gray's domestic responsibilities—made their life together very unhappy. From little differences at first, their troubles grew into open quarrels, and finally they separated, Dr. Gray claiming that neither his children nor himself were safe in the same house with his wife. While I could not blame Dr. Gray for separating from my sister, my sympathy for her was as great as ever, and I took her into my own home again. With the variable temper and habits inherited from an insane father and a mother tried by all manner of vicissitude, she was the source of much anxiety and unhappiness to me. I will not go into irrelevant details, but will speak of those of im- portance farther on. After the war began, in '61, I joined with the 160 THE LIFE STORY OF loyal women of the Nation in sewing, picking lint, knitting socks and doing all that women's hands could accomplish to make the lot of those gone out to protect our homes less arduous, little thinking that I had a dear brother who had risked his life with the rest. But, one day I got word that my brother William, the only brother I had living and whom I had not seen since he was a little boy, had enlisted. My eldest brother had died in the war with Mexico many years before, and thoughts of the danger my younger brother was in brought a feel- ing of sadness; but with it came a pride and satis- faction in the thought that the little boy who had been beaten about the world without care or over- sight had grown into a manhood with the courage to answer to the country's call for aid. As soon as I got my brother's address, I wrote to him, and from the answer I received and from what he told me many times afterwards, I suppose there was never a more happy boy than he was when he received my letter. I wrote to him often, to cheer and encourage him, sending him postage stamps and stationery, that he might write to me whenever an opportunity occurred. SARAH M. VICTOR. 161 To the younger people who may read this, I will say that it was the custom of all who had friends in the army to send such supplies, many times sending the envelopes already superscribed to themselves or others left behind, that the soldier, when fatigued from long marches, without money or out of reach of the sutler's camp, could pencil his thoughts and, putting them into the ready re- ceptacle, send them to the anxious ones at home. In one of his letters my brother wrote that “the boys” (the members of his regiment) were getting their lives insured for their friends' benefit, and that he was going to get his insured for mine. The very thought of his not outliving the time of his enlistment was unbearable to me, and I could not contemplate the idea of receiving money at the price of his death, for a moment. So I wrote to him to wait until he should get a furlough and come to see me, when we would talk the matter Over. Soon after that, being afraid that something would happen to him, and wishing to make sure that I would have any money that might be com- ing to him at such time, he made a will for my benefit, having some of his comrades sign it as THE LIFE STORY OF witnesses, and sent it to me. As I have not been able to recover any of the papers taken from my house after I was arrested, I cannot re-produce the will here, but will say that it was made near the Weldon railroad, Virginia, where my brother's regiment, Twelfth United States Infantry, was camping. As an instance of the peculiar zeal that was shown in the efforts to convict me, I will mention that the prosecuting attorney claimed in his plea that he could prove that will a forgery. At the time, there was a soldier in Cleveland who had the manhood to brave the tide of popu- lar prejudice and say, “They can't prove that, for I was there and saw it written.” Possibly that was the reason that the matter was dropped in the trial. It was, however; yet the newspapers did not let it die, but renewed the accusation from time to time till a short time before my pardon. After a while my brother's regiment was sent to Elmira, New York, as a guard over the rebel pris- oners there, and my brother got a furlough and came to see me. Our joy on seeing each other, after so many years of separation, need not be SARAH M. VICTOR. 163 described. I could hardly believe that the black- haired man dressed in soldier clothes was the almost white-headed little boy I had cried over when parting with so long before. I felt proud of my soldier brother, and thought of the future as a time in which, free from the army, he could always be near me. We talked of the past, and he told me of his trials after I went west and all his life afterwards. When speaking of the future, he said, “I’ve got my mind set on that insurance, sister, and I am determined to get it done.” I tried to persuade him out of the idea, telling him he must not think of dying, but of taking care of himself so as to come back to me. He then told me that there was talk of his regiment being sent to the Mexican border, and that he might die there as our brother had. “Why, what will the boys think of me, after all I have said,” he would say, “if I go back and tell them I didn't get it done?” He wanted the sum to be twenty-five thousand dollars, but I told him I would never consent to his paying his money for a policy for such an amount. At last I told him I would accept a 164: THE LIFE STORY OF policy for two thousand dollars, but no more. He finally agreed to that, and as he was a stranger in Cleveland, I went with him to Dr. Beckwith for examination. He talked with the doctor about how long we had been separated, how I had tried to care for him when he was a little boy, and told him that he wanted me to receive the benefit of the insurance if he died. After passing examination, he ordered a policy in one of Mr. Carlton's companies and soon after returned to his regiment, Mr. Carlton making out the policy and bringing it to me. After my brother returned to Elmira, his regi- ment was ordered to Richmond, Virginia, and in a short time the war closed and he was honorably discharged, coming from there home to my house. When he came, he brought his gun, trunk and clothes, which were all of his possessions—he did not have a dollar. I did not know that he was without money until, a day or two after he came, noticing that his boots needed repairing and that he ought to go to a barber, I said to him: “Billy, you had better take those boots and have them half-soled. I see they are good yet except where you have SARAH M. VICTOR. 165 worn them by marching,” and adding that he had better stop at a barber's and get shaved. He looked troubled, and at last said, “Sister, I might as well tell you the truth. I haven't got a cent in the world.” He then told me that he had had all his money stolen the night before he left Richmond, and had been obliged to pawn his watch for a ticket to come with. He also said that he had thought he would get something to do in a few days, and not have to tell me, as he was ashamed to come in that way. I told him that he need not have been afraid to tell me, and that I would send for his watch at once. I then gave him what change he needed, and went immediately to the express office and sent the money for his watch. When the watch came and I gave it to my brother, he cried, poor boy, and said, “God bless you, sister; you was always my best friend.” He was so unused to kindness, that he appreci- ated everything done for him, which made the doing of favors a pleasure to me. When he spoke of getting work, I told him that he need not do so. He had never had any advan- 166 THE LIFE STORY OF tages, and I wanted him to study and improve himself, for a time, at least. So I got him such books as he needed and looked after his comfort in every way. In the spring after his return, a Mr. Fenner, who kept a hotel at Euclid, wanted him to assist a few days, until he could get another man. Although I knew that living at my house must be dull to my brother after having been in the army, I objected to his going where liquor was sold, as it was at Mr. Fenner's, for I did not know what habits he might have formed. He seemed to divine my thoughts, and said, “You needn't be afraid of my drinking, for I don't drink; and he only wants me for a few days.” He then went to work for Mr. Fenner, and the few days ran into weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Fenner told me that they had never had anyone whom they liked so well, and that they would like to have him remain a year. I was glad he had given such satisfaction, and no longer objected to his remain- ing with them. A month or two after he made the final engage- ment, Mr. Fenner came to me one day and said that “Billy,” as we usually called my brother, had fallen across a hay-rack in the barn and hurt him- SARAH M. VICTOR. 167 self. He said that he hardly thought the injury was serious, and as I was quite ill that day, I did not go to see him at the time, but went a day or two afterwards, taking Dr. Sapp, the physician I had for myself, with me to make sure of what the extent of the injury was. Some little time before his fall, my brother had, without my knowledge or consent, gone to Mr. Carlton and taken out an accident policy, which Mr. Carlton brought to me, and of which I had no knowledge before receiving. There was nothing very remarkable about his having taken out the policy, as accident insurance was then a comparatively new thing to many, and as my brother had not been in the habit of caring for horses, he thought he might get hurt, and if he should die, he wanted me to be the one benefited. But, as a consequence of his having taken out the policy, I felt under added obligation to see that no harm came to him from neglect on my part, and so took a physician, in whom I had faith, to see him. After examining him, Dr. Sapp made some slight prescription, and I told him to send anything further that might be needed. My 168 THE LIFE STORY OF brother was troubled because I had been to the expense of a physician, and asked me what he would charge for coming. I answered, “Not more than eight or ten dollars, although some would charge twenty-five.” “If that is so, and I don't get over this,” said he, “you pay him twenty-five out of the insur- ance money.” I told him he was not going to die, but that I would see that the doctor was paid. As I have said before, he was so kind-hearted and afraid of making trouble, that it was a pleasure to do for him. On the way home, I told Dr. Sapp of what William had said, and remarked on the general kindliness of his nature. Possibly it may occur to the mind of the un- prejudiced reader that the foregoing would have been a favorable opportunity to make away with my brother, had I been the fiend I have been pictured to the public for so many years. I could easily have worked on my brother's despondent feelings and got him to go home with me, where I could have given him poison with the cold- blooded craftiness of the demon I have been said to be. SARAH M. VICTOR. 169 cian ten dollars for relieving my mind of fear, and The facts were, however, that I was thankful the hurt was no worse, willingly paid the physi- left my brother where he was, knowing he was among friends. 170 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER XII. A YouNG LADY Dies—Loan ING SoME Money—A Newspaper's WoRK – A GENUINE ARTIST – SAME FIENDISH Wom AN–A WARNING—A MATRON's Work—WHAT CAN BE BELIEVEd. —DR, DELLENBAUGH’s StATEMENT—ALL Supposition—No. Grounds for Suspicion – Conclusive Evide Nce – THE “MILLs of THE GoDs'' – WEDDING CLOTHEs—WILL SHE CoME BAck—Not SAFE ALONE–ARSENic As A Toxic. HILE living at Mr. Fenner's my brother became attached to a daughter of the family, named Ann. There were two daughters living at home, one named as above and the other always called “Mi,” but whose real name I never knew. I had but a slight acquaintance with either daughter, but with the latter almost none, never having seen her but once or twice—I think, only once. One day, Mr. Fenner came to my house and told me that his daughter “Mi’’ was dead, and that as he found that he had not money enough with him to pay for the hearse and burial case, for which he had come to the city, he had thought of me as being the only one he would like to ask SARAH M. VICTOR. 171 to loan him the balance. He explained the mat- ter by saying that the undertaker would not go into the country without having his pay in ad- Vance. I readily loaned him the money, fifteen dollars, and asked him if his daughter's death had not been sudden, as I had not heard that she was sick. - He said that she had been ailing with what the physician pronounced diabetes, but that they had not thought her in danger until two days preceding her death. That was all I ever knew in regard to Miss Fenner's sickness and death; yet, after I had been in prison many years, when efforts were being made for my pardon by Governor Foster, there appeared in the Cleveland Herald, then one of the oldest newspapers in Cleveland, but since bought out by the Cleveland Leader, the following article: ANOTHER PAGE FROM THE LIFE OF MRS. VICTOR. A few days ago we gave a careful review of the case of Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, and the circumstances surrounding the crime for which she was sentenced to be hung. To-day we turn over a second leaf in her history which makes another romance in crime, and leads to the belief that in the business of poisoning 172 THE LIFE STORY OF Mrs. Victor was a genuine artist and thoroughly understood her profession. In October, 1866, William Parquet was living at Euclid and “keeping company” with Miss Fenner, the daughter of old Mr. Fenner, so well remembered as the keeper of the tavern at that place. Miss Fenner was a bright, intelligent, attractive girl, and after the usual courtship she and William Parquet became engaged to be married. Mr. and Mrs. Fenner thought the girl could make a better match than to marry Parquet, who was living in the neighborhood as a “hired man,” and they opposed the wishes of their daughter and refused their consent to the marriage. But the young girl was infatuated with Parquet, laughed at her parents and stood bravely and stoutly by her lover. She announced her engagement and ſpoke freely of her coming marriage. At this time Miss Fen- ner had a trouble with the kidneys, and Dr. Dellenbaugh, a well-known and prominent physician living at East Cleveland, was called upon to treat her. He attended her, and under his care and skillful management she was doing finely, and no thought of her illness being fatal affected the minds of any- One. - At this time Mrs. Victor heard of the engagement, and with sisterly interest went out to visit Miss Fenner, the betrothed bride of her brother, and took up her abode in the Fenner tavern. She was greatly interested in the young girl so soon to be the wife of her dear brother William, and treated her with every appearance of affectionate interest. Soon after her arrival Miss Fenner grew strangely worse, and Dr. Del- lenbaugh was sent for. On his arrival he found the young lady suffering greatly, and Mrs. Victor devoted to her service and waiting upon her with assiduous and self-sacrificing de- SARAH M. VICTOR. 173. votion. Dr. Dellenbaugh was utterly unable to account for the sudden and extraordinary change in the character of Miss Fenner's illness. It could not be explained upon any theory consistent with her previous symptoms. His suspicions were excited that all was not right, but it was difficult to imagine any motive for wrong-doing or the possibility of any accident. Mr. and Mrs. Fenner were devoted to their daughter, lavish- ing upon her all the wealth of their love, and watching over her with genuine parental solicitude. Mrs. Victor was as- siduous and kindly, apparently the most considerate and true- hearted of nurses. There was no earthly motive that could be surmised why the death of this girl could be made to benefit anybody. Her parents were old and simple-minded people, the girl herself confiding and affectionate in character, without an enemy in the world, her lover a poor laboring man, a private soldier returned from the wars. There was no spot for suspicion to fasten upon; no elements out of which the sharpest imagination could weave a story of jealousy, envy, avarice, poison and murder. Hence Dr. Dellenbaugh failed to see any real ground for suspecting foul play, and endeavored to soothe and relieve his patient in what appeared to him to be the best way. Notwithstanding all his efforts, in two days the young, blooming, happy and light-hearted girl was dead. Her stricken parents followed her to the grave, and Parquet soon after returned to Cleveland, took up his abode with Mrs. Victor, and in less than four months was himself laid to rest in the cemetery. After Mrs. Victor's arrest for killing her brother, Dr. Dellenbaugh informed old Mr. Fenner that in his belief Miss Fenner died from the effects of strychnine administered to her by Mrs. Victor, while the latter was professing to nurse her with sisterly tenderness. Dr. Dellenbaugh is a physician 174. THE LIFE STORY OF still practicing in Cleveland, and he says there is no reasonable doubt that Mrs. Victor, fearing the marriage of Parquet would effectually place him out of her power, deliberately, and with the most wonderful cunning and duplicity, visited his intended wife, obtained her confidence and that of her parents, in- stalled herself in their house, and then quietly but surely pur- sued her deadly work. Parquet, the young soldier, and his youthful sweetheart were murdered within four months of each other, and by the same fiendish woman. They were both guileless and unsuspect- ing. Both kissed the hand that was leading them into the valley of the shadow of death; both hung on her words with generous confidence and abiding affection. Over both she shed the hypocritical tear, and both she followed to the grave as a weeping mourner and broken-hearted friend. Mrs. Victor still lives—lives to use her cunning and talent to ensnare the virtuous, the good, the unsuspecting, the benevolent and the humane. The mercy held out to her was a crime against humanity. Her bones should long since have mouldered in the dust. Over her grave “Murderess” should have been carved in staring capitals. Society has placed her in a living grave, but has not silenced her deadly, poisonous influence. We warn all men and women who are inclined to listen to the song of the siren. The “ways of this woman are the ways of death, and her steps take hold on hell.” At the time the foregoing article appeared, Mrs. L. V. DeSellem, who was principal matron of the female department of the Ohio Penitentiary at the time I was received therein, but who had since SARAH M. VICTOR. 175 retired to private life, was working for my pardon, and seeing the article, came to me. I told her the facts, as I always did in everything. Her course can best be told in the following words, which are copied from a letter received from her and dated at her home in Port Homer, Jefferson county, Ohio, July 27, 1887: After you told me where the girl's people lived, I wrote to the postmaster, asking if the family still lived there. I received in answer a postal-card saying that the father and, I think, the mother were dead, but giving me the address of a married sister of the girl. I wrote to the sister, and she answered, say- ing you were not at their house and did not see, or do anything for her sister. She also said your brother was not engaged to her. I then went to the State library and found the paper that had that piece in. I told the librarian that I wanted Governor Foster to read that piece, and asked him if he would allow the book to be taken to the governor's office. He very kindly took it there for me. After the governor read the article, I gave him the postal-card and the sister's letter. When he had read them, I said: “When such falsehoods as that can be told, what can be believed P’’ Yet, I was not pardoned by Governor Foster, and not wishing to overtax free workers, nor being able to pay others, I could do nothing. But when I was at last free I determined that if my life was spared long enough, I would find the origi- 176 THE LIFE STORY OF nators of that and many other similar articles. Through the lady who writes this book for me, I found Dr. Dellenbaugh. He frankly admitted that he had furnished some of the information from which the article was written, but that for some years past he had had misgivings about the accu- racy of the statement then made. He speaks for himself as follows: COPY OF THE STATEMENT OF DR. C. W. DEL- LENBAUGH. CLEVELAND, O., 8, 10, '87. While I was attending Miss Fenner, I several times saw a lady at the house who seemed to take interest in the young lady's case; she may have been a relative or neighbor. I was not acquainted with her, however, and at the time had never seen Mrs. Victor. But, when Mrs. Victor was under arrest for murder, I was at the court-house one day, and seeing Mr. Fenner, spoke of his daughter's illness and in the conversation asked who the lady was—meaning the one who had been at his house. He answered, according to my recollection, “Mrs. Victor;” but the conversation was of such a nature, and my mind was so much on the subject of Mrs. Victor's guilt, that I may have misunderstood him, or if I understood him, he, doubtless, meant that the woman on trial was Mrs. Victor, while I meant quite a different person. The statements in regard to Mrs. Victor's diabolical cun- ning and action in the matter, as published in the Herald, are, SARAH M. VICTOR. 177 as a matter of course, all supposition; and as I never recog- nized Mrs. Victor as being the person who was at Mr. Fenner's, nor had any definite knowledge that she was there at all, there is no ground left for suspicion. - I have for some years been convinced that Mrs. Victor is innocent of the crime of murdering her brother, and that fact should be conclusive evidence that I have no suspicions of her being guilty of Miss Fenner's death. (Signed) DR. C. W. DELLENBAUGH, - Cleveland, O. Room 5, Andrew's Block, 136 Ontario St. It will be seen that the last paragraph of the newspaper article is written entirely upon edito- rial responsibility, asserts without qualification that I murdered my brother's “youthful sweet- heart,” and ends by giving the public some advice, and an attempt at quoting Scripture. Feeling that no comment on the “liberty of the press” is necessary, I will only say that I find some little consolation in the fact that the “mills of the gods” are still grinding, and whether it be before or after my life here is over, all the minutest grains of injustice in my case must go through the refining process at last. My brother's affection for Ann Fenner, the only one of the family to whom he paid his attentions, 178 THE LIFE STORY OF seemed to be reciprocated, and my brother told me they were engaged. My brother had his wed- ding clothes made, and was expecting to be married soon, when Miss Fenner and he had a disagreement over a small matter, the particulars of which he gave me, and she broke the engage- ment, going away on a visit soon after. During her absence my brother would come up to my house and talk of the matter. He would ask me, in a piteous way, “Do you think she will come back, sister?” and I would tell him that she would, of course, if she cared for him, and that if she did not, he did not want her. After a time Miss Fenner returned, but as matters were no better, my brother became so far distracted that it was not at all times safe to 1eave him alone. So Mr. Fenner came to me and said that “Billy” acted so strangely that both himself and his wife were afraid he would kill him- self. My brother then came home to me; and it would take many pages to describe the anxiety he caused me. I tried in every way to cheer him; telling him to “be a man,” and not let people know he had been jilted. Twice he attempted to hang himself, SARAH M. VICTOR. 179 - - and several times when I was returning after going down town, my little nephew Wesley came to meet me saying, “Hurry, aunty; uncle Billy is going to kill himself.” I said nothing of these occurrences at the time outside of the family, but my brother told several of his friends that he would take his own life if Miss Fenner's decision proved final; and all could have been proven at my trial had I been given any- thing that should be dignified by the name of trial. Several witnesses attempted to so testify, and were peremptorily stopped by the rulings of the court. - Seeing the trouble that his actions gave me, my brother controlled himself to some extent, but grieved constantly and was at all times very despondent, seeming to have no desire to live, and often asserting that he would not live long. His health rapidly declined from the time the engage- ment was broken, and nothing seemed to do him any good. He had complained of trouble in his stomach and right side, that being the side on which he had - fallen across the hay-rack, at different times since receiving the hurt at Mr. Fenner's, and had taken 180 THE LIFE STORY OF several kinds of medicine for relief. The unpleasant feeling would leave him at times, but after he came home to me, he complained of the same trouble almost constantly. The symptoms were pain in the region of the liver, and nausea, with a burning sensation in the stomach. While yet at Mr. Fenner's, my brother was advised by a neighbor of ours, a Mr. Newel, to take arsenic as a tonic. Mr. Newel, who was a hackman and had the care of horses, told William that he gave arsenic to his horses to improve their general condition, and that it would have the same effect on a human being, advising him to take it. I know, both by his having told me and by sub- sequent conversations between Mr. Newel and him, that my brother got arsenic from Mr. Newel and took it more or less; but as to what extent he took it, or how long he continued it, I can make no positive statement. I only know that his taking it at all was without my approval, and that I had no faith in the man who advised it. SARAH M. VICTOR. 181 CHAPTER XIII. ABOUT MR. NEWEL-STARTLING TALEs-BEcoMING DISGUSTED —Mrs. Sigsby—Mrs. BAKER's CoNFEssion—SAw THE MUR- DER—A CERTAIN Powder–SLIPPED ON THE Door-stEP— At E. Some PIE-TAKEN ILL–DIED–VERY DEspondent– REQUEsts WHILE ILL–A CLAss of STUDENTs—ANoNYMoUs LETTERs—BY WHOM WRITTEN-IN WHose INTEREsts—A REQUEst—SEEMING CRAFTINEss. M" NEWEL was a person with whom I became unfavorably impressed on first see- ing him, and, although he lived just across the street from me, I never encouraged any acquaint- ance with him. But he had been acquainted with my sister from her childhood, and when my brother came home from the war, had made his acquaintance, also. His earlier acquaintance with my sister was marked by an occurrence not calcu- lated to inspire respect, and which was as follows: One day when my sister, then ten or twelve years old, was living with a family in Cleveland, she, in company with another young girl, who afterwards married a man of high position and, 182 THE LIFE STORY OF as it happens, yet lives in Cleveland, were walking along the street together, talking and laughing as girls often do, when the man Newel, who was passing in the street, seeing them laughing, asked them if they would take a ride in his hack. They thought it great fun, and got in, when he took them to a house of ill-repute on or near Bolivar street and left them. Whatever the character of the woman keeping the house may have been, she seemed to realize the depravity of the act, and sent the girls home with the advice to keep out of bad COmpany. When my sister came to my house Mr. Newel recognized her, and spoke of the old matter as a good joke. Not wishing to anger him, I tolerated his presence when he would occasionally come into my house to see my brother, but, while he was always respectful to me, I could not overcome the feeling of repugnance that had come to me on first seeing him, and there was always a sense of restraint between us. His ways were very disagreeable. He had an unpleasantly familiar fashion of coming into my house without ringing the door-bell, and going into any room to find my brother, without so much - - - - - - - SARAH M. VICTOR. 183 as an excuse for so doing. Then, he would sit down of an evening and relate startling tales of robberies and murders, to which I did not want my brother to listen. One evening he came in, and soon growing talk- ative began telling about a particular gang of outlaws that had committed many murders. I was sitting by the table sewing or knitting, and becoming disgusted with the talk, I looked up and said, “I suppose it was one of some such gang who murdered poor Mrs. Sigsby, and some day I'll put my hands on him.” It will be remembered by some of the older residents that a Mrs. Sigsby was murdered in Cleveland many years ago, and that, although several were arrested for the crime, none were convicted. After making the remark, I turned to my work, when my brother asked Mr. Newel if he was sick, and got up and helped him to the door. Mr. Newel said, no—that he “often felt so,” and started for home. - After he had gone, my brother and I talked the matter over, and my brother said that maybe 184, THE LIFE STORY OF Newel had seen the woman who was murdered, and my speaking of it made him faint. I remember of answering that “a man who had dug up bodies for the doctors” would not be likely to be so easily affected. There was at that time much said about the raising of bodies after burial, and I had heard that Mr. Newel had bragged that he had done such things while living in Buffalo, New York. I will now explain why I made the remark that I did in regard to Mrs. Sigsby's murderer. Some years before I ever saw Mr. Newel, whom I had known personally only eight or ten months at the time of which I write, the woman who had come to my house as a boarder through arrange- ments made with my husband, sent me word that she was very sick and wanted to see me. I went to see her, and she told me that she knew she could not live, and she wanted to ask my forgiveness for deceiving me. After tell- ing how she had made the arrangements with my husband, and I had assured her that I freely forgave her, she told me that there were other things on her mind that she ought to tell. She then said that she had seen Mrs. Sigsby murdered. SARAH M. VICTOR. 185 I had heard of Mrs. Sigsby's murder at the time it occurred, and that several persons had been arrested, but nobody held. She told me that a man who drove a hack, and whose name she gave but whom I did not know, had taken Mrs. Sigsby, herself and another woman, whose name I can- not recall, to a theatre or some place of amuse- ment, and that after he took them home, she, being jealous of the man's attentions to Mrs. Sigsby, had watched him to convince herself whether he did not return to Mrs. Sigsby's house instead of going home. She said that the house she lived in was near that of Mrs. Sigsby, and that she saw the man drive away and in a short time come back on foot. She then went out and across to Mrs. Sigsby's house and tried to look through the keyhole in the door. Not being able to see anything there, in looking at a window near, she saw a small hole in the curtain, and peeping in, saw the man standing before Mrs. Sigsby, who was in the act of pulling a hand- kerchief or something the man had put over his face, off. She said the man then spoke to Mrs. Sigsby and seemed determined to kill her. The woman then turned from the window, not know- 186 THE LIFE STORY OF ing what to do, as she said, but in a moment looked again, and seeing Mrs. Sigsby apparently dead, hurried away before the man could come out and see her. She told me that the man ran away to Canada and had never been heard from since. When I asked her why she had told nobody of the mat- ter at the time, she said that she did not dare to do so, as she had herself been arrested on suspicion of being connected with it; that she had been jealous of the woman and would have had to tell it, and that nobody would have believed her. She told, further, something about a handkerchief that was in Mrs. Sigsby's house, and with which she herself was connected in some way, and finally said that where a person had “looked through glass” to see what transpired in evidence, such testimony would not “stand law.” That is the substance of the story the woman told me, and it would have been given to the public twenty years ago, or near that, if my attorney had not, for some purpose, kept it back. The woman's name was Baker. I do not know positively that she is dead; but if living, she can but corroborate this story. SARAH M. VICTOR. 187 I was shocked and troubled by the woman's story, and did not know what I ought to do. But the feeling most prominent with me was a desire to get out of the woman's presence and surround- ings and put the whole matter out of my mind. I had sufficient trouble of my own without under- taking a task so uncertain in its results, and that seemed to me so highly hazardous, considering the source of the information. The tales of Mr. Newel brought the woman's story to my mind and caused me to make the re- mark. I had no idea of who the guilty man was, as I had lost all memory of the name. After that occurrence, I told my brother to keep out of Mr. Newel's society. I could not have given any definite reason for doing so, had I been asked to explain why I did it, but I thought that Mr. Newel must either have been very angry at my interruption of his story, or that he was guilty of some crime. My brother did as I requested as far as he could, but after he came home from Mr. Fenner's, he said to me one day that Mr. Newel had been telling him that by taking a certain powder, a person could test the love of the one whose affections had be- 188 THE LIFE STORY OF come estranged. I was out of patience with my brother for having talked with Mr. Newel about his disappointment and thus subjected himself to ridicule, and I told him that what Mr. Newel said was not worth repeating. Love charms and all such sorcery were always an abomination to me, and I told my brother that he ought not to listen to “such nonsense; '' that all any powder could do would be to make a person sick, when, prob- ably, the person's friends would come to see him. My brother said he supposed that was “about the way of it,” or something to that effect, and never mentioned the matter again. After my brother had been with me a few weeks, on one Saturday night, the twenty-sixth of Jan- uary, I think it was, he came home after taking my sister a part of the way to the house of some acquaintances where she was to spend the night, and told me that he had slipped on the door-step and hurt his side. I made him some ginger tea, and as soon as I got him to bed, put a mustard plaster on his side. He was able to be about, the next day, but was far from well. He told me he had invited a man named Hunt to take tea with him, and must be SARAH M. VICTOR. 189. - up to receive him. Sometime afternoon Mr. Hunt came, and soon my brother began talking with him about the trouble between Miss Fenner and himself, which was constantly on his mind. The next morning he did not feel as well as on Sunday, and did not leave the house during the day. Just before retiring he said he believed he could eat a piece of pie—he had eaten little of any- thing for two days—and went to the cupboard and got a piece. It was mince pie, and I told him he had better not eat it, as it probably had frost in it. He said that he had eaten anything when in the army, and as there was no time for warming the pie at that hour, he ate it as it was. Some time after midnight, my little nephew, who had slept with my brother from the time of his return from Mr. Fenner's, so as to warn me if his uncle attempted any harm to himself, came to my room and said, “Uncle Billy is real sick.” I got up at once, and, after going into the room where my brother was and finding him in a good deal of pain, had a fire built in my own room and took him in there, as will be seen in my answers to the extracts from the testimony in my trial. From the night on which he was taken seriously 190 THE LIFE STORY OF ill, he continued to grow worse, and on the Monday morning following, he died. During his illness I was almost constantly with him through the day, and also at night, unless I felt sure that the ones who sat up with him were efficient and reliable. Almost from the first, he said he would not get well, and his despondency gave me less hope for him. Indeed his assertion that he would die made me very despondent, also; for the experience I had had in the death of my little boy had made me sensitive to such predictions. Some time in the latter part of the week, he told me what his wishes were in case he did not recover, and requested that I be sure and remember them. I assured him that I would omit nothing, and, sitting down on the bed beside him, wrote down some special things so that his mind would be at ease. Among his requests was one that the doctors should not get his body. He wanted me to promise that I would see to it that they did not. He had always had a horror of such things from the time he lived at Dr. Ackley's and was frightened by the students. After my brother died, Dr. Sapp, who attended him, requested me to allow him to bring a class of students to my house and make an examination of SARAH M. VICTOR. 191 his body. As might be expected, after my promise, I firmly refused to do so. But, as Dr. Sapp seemed puzzled as to what had caused death when he had seen no danger, and as my brother had died so sud- denly, I at last thought that if Drs. Sapp and Beckwith, both of whom had attended him at dif- ferent times, would make it, I would allow the examination to be made there in my house, and have my mind free both of the uncertainty of what had caused death and of his being taken up after burial. But Dr. Sapp did not agree to that proposition, and so my brother's body was not examined. For nearly twenty years I have regretted that it was not examined then, before it had mouldered in the grave a whole year. (For particulars immediately following my brother's death, see answer to Libbie Gray's testimony.) In the latter part of the same year in which my brother died, I began to receive anonymous letters saying that if I did not do what was right by “certain parties,” I would be arrested and some dreadful developments follow. I compared the handwriting of the letters with that of one known to have been written by Mr. Newel, and found it 192 THE LIFE STORY OF the same. My sister, Mrs. Gray, had taken up her residence at Mr. Newel's, and I supposed the letters written in her interests. I found later, however, that they were, beyond any doubt in my own mind, written in my sister's interest as she understood the matter, but in Mr. Newel's own, as he calculated. At first I thought little of the threats, knowing there was nothing of which I was guilty; and as there was no mention made of what the develop- ments were to be, I thought the matter but an attempt to levy blackmail by frightening me. But before long I heard a rumor that my brother had been poisoned by eating a piece of pie. Strange thoughts and suspicions came into my mind, and I began to fear that my sister, with such unscrupulous counselors, would get herself more than me into trouble that she little realized. Having heard that she had been to Dr. Sapp, and being unable to get any interview with her myself, I went to the doctor and requested him to explain to her the trouble she might bring about by the course she was taking. Dr. Sapp did not seem inclined to do as I re- quested, which was not remarkable; as it was a SARAH M. VICTOR. 193 state of affairs that ought not to have existed, and a matter in which few not interested would have cared to mingle. Yet, not knowing what else to do, and as Dr. Sapp had been my brother's physician from the time he was taken sick, as well as while at Mr. Fenner's, I wrote him a letter afterwards, making the same request. All that matter was brought up at my trial as the most damning of evidence against me; and, together with the rest, it condemned me to death, which I escaped only to suffer nearly nineteen years in prison. Yet, I did not murder my brother, and there was really no guilt in all that seeming (to some) craftiness. After having been to Dr. Sapp, I concluded to have a committee appointed to decide what, in equity, I should do for my sister, who claimed that my brother's life had been insured for her benefit as well as mine, and as I had heard that Prosecuting Attorney Jones had already heard of the matter, I went to him and talked with him about it. - 194, THE LIFE Sºo RY OF CHAPTER XIV. My ARREst—THE INQUEST-FIRST NIGHT IN JAIL–FRIENDLY Mice — MoRNING – PERSONAL PROPERTY – MR. CASTLE- ENGAGING AN Attorney—Do As I TELL You—TorturiNg Doubts — KNow HIM 2 I GUESS I Do – MR. PALMER— STRENGTH FAILs—DR. D. H. BECK witH –THANKS.– AN ExPLANATION.—Strange Counsel—Too Weak to Walk— THE INDIctMENT—WAs AMAzED–FAINT AND CoNFUSED. O” the fifth day of February, 1868, I was in my sitting-room talking with a lady of the church to which I belonged, when Mr. Nicola, sheriff of Cuyahoga county, drove up to my gate. I went to the door when he rang the bell, and told him to be seated in the parlor, then excusing my- self until I should be through with the lady. She was about going, and soon went away. I then went to see what Mr. Nicola's business was. He told me that he had come to see me about going down to see the prosecuting attorney regarding the business I had talked about. I told him that I would go the next day, as I did not feel able to SARAH M. VICTOR. 195 walk down that day; being at the time in miser- able health. He said I could ride down with him, and I gladly accepted the offer, telling him that I wanted the matter settled. He took me down to the court-house, saying that Mr. Jones was there. I thought of nothing unusual, and went into the room the sheriff did and sat down. In a moment, Mr. Nicola went out, and after some little time, came back, asked me to come out and told me that the body of my brother had been taken up, and that I was to ap- pear before the coroner's jury, then reading the warrant charging me with my brother's death. None but an innocent person who has been arrested for murder can understand what my feel- ings were at that moment. Yet, the full horror of the situation did not come upon me at once. I was astonished and shocked beyond any descrip- tion that I can give, but being conscious of my entire innocence, and having a then untried faith in the dignity of the law, I had no fear of anything further than the stigma of having been arrested on so grave a charge. But that, together with the facts that I was accused of murdering one for whom I would have made almost any sacrifice, and 196 THE LIFE STORY OF my brother's body had been dragged from the grave, where I had placed it with all tenderness and sorrow, was awful beyond expression. I have never had, up to the present time, any distinct recollection of what occurred, or what I testified to before that coroner's jury. I remember of being taken to be locked up, and the incidents of that first night in jail are as plain before my mental sight as at the time of their occurrence. When the sheriff unlocked the cell in which I was to stay, a half-intoxicated girl came towards the door, and Mr. Nicola told me not to be afraid, as she was harmless. I remember that the sheriff left me a candle, and that the girl told me that such things were not customary. After a time the girl threw herself on one of the cots and was soon sound asleep. I did not take off my wraps the whole night, thinking someone would come to release me. I knew nothing of the rigidness of the law in regard to acceptance of bail in such cases, and thought Mr. Carlton or some of the many people who must know I was innocent, would come to my assistance and not let me remain in such a place. The cell swarmed with mice, and as the night SARAH M. VICTOR. 197 wore on and quiet came, the little things would run over my lap, through my muff and even up on my shoulders. I was usually afraid of mice, but those seemed so void of fear, and I was so stunned and miserable that their presence was really a relief. The room became very cold some time after the girl went to sleep, and I remember of going and putting the covers over her and thinking that per- haps she was some poor creature who was not responsible for her condition. When morning at last came, breakfast was brought up for the girl and myself, but I could not eat any of the jail fare, and so had a breakfast sent from a neighborin g restaurant. In the forenoon, the rectors of Trinity church came, with their wives, to see me; having been told the night before, as they said, of my trouble, by Mr. Carlton. There seemed little that could be done at the time, as the alleged offense was not a bailable one, but things were made as comfortable for me as possible. The sheriff took me to my house to get such clothing as I needed, and that was the last time I ever saw any of my personal property; the rabble, legal and otherwise, being allowed to plunder my home of everything. 198 time Life story of - Soon remarks began to be circulated in the jail, to the effect that “Old Carlton,” to give the ex- pression literally, ought to be there instead of me, or with me. Knowing that Mr. Carlton was as guiltless of any knowledge of the matter for which I was arrested as I was, which guiltlessness, let me here say, was absolute in both cases, and feeling that to have him call on me would only give rise to further comment, I sent him word that he need not come. Remembering how he had opposed my sending for my sister to come to Cleveland, in the first place, and thinking that he must have already been much humiliated by the trouble she had gotten me into, I could not bear the thought of his being subjected to suspicion besides. Yet I had no thought that he would take any advan- tage that the opportunity might give him, and desert me. - The second day after my arrest, a lawyer by the name of Castle called on me and asked if I had engaged counsel. I told him that I had not and did not know that I needed any. He said it would be necessary for me to have an attorney, and that he would like to take my case. I did not know what I had better do, but thinking that per- SARAH M. VICTOR. 199 --- haps Mr. Carlton had sent the man, I told him I would engage him. He then said, “I believe you have property, Mrs. Victor, and we attorneys have what is called a retainer. Could you give me a hundred dollars?” and added, “If it isn't used we return it.” I knew almost nothing of the law, and less of lawyers, and I gave him an order for a hundred dollars. But I very soon regretted that I had done so, as people told me that he was very un- reliable counsel. Shortly after I engaged Mr. Castle, he came into the jail one day in great haste and told me that the prosecuting attorney and some others were coming, and that I should say I waived an examination. I asked him what it was to “waive” examination. His answer was, “Oh, h- Do as I tell you.” Before anything further could be said, Mr. Jones and two or three others came in, and not knowing anything of the consequences of what I was doing, I followed the advice—or rather, obeyed the command of my attorney. I did not know until long afterwards that waiving an ex- amination was a tacit admission of guilt. I was 200 THE LIFE STORY OF told while in the jail that Mr. Castle feared an examination would result in an acquittal and rob him of a case. I hoped at the time that such was not the case, but I now feel sure that the facts were much worse than that; for had I had an examination, other parties would have been ar- rested, and the truth probably arrived at. I very soon lost all faith in my attorney; and added to that, circumstances began to develop complica- tions that appalled me. When arsenic was alleged to have been found in my brother's stomach, no person could possibly have been more astonished than I was. How such a quantity—or any quantity in fact, could have been given to my brother without my knowl- edge was more than I could imagine, and I knew beyond any doubt that I had not given him any, either purposely or through any mistake of my own making. Then the most dreadful suspicions came to me. I began to have torturing doubts as to whether or not my sister would or could have done such a deed, and then I would think that possibly my brother had taken his own life; yet I could not believe either was true. Then I would think of the threatening letters, and con- SARAH M. VICTOR. 201 clude that the whole was a blackmailing scheme, gotten up by those who would not scruple to put arsenic in my brother's stomach before it was examined. - While in the midst of such horrible doubt, I was one day standing at a window of the jail and a man who worked about the place was standing near. On looking across the street, I saw Mr. Newel coming out of a restaurant, and I turned to the man near me and asked him if he knew “that man,” pointing towards Mr. Newel. “Know him? I guess I do. That man was once in this very jail for murder; but he got off and ran away to Canada,” was the answer. The story of Mrs. Baker and the fainting spell in my own house came to my mind in an instant, and for the first time I began to understand the awful danger I was really in. I began to see through the plot, so far as Mr. Newel was con- cerned, and could understand why he could not remember having driven me to Dr. Sapp's office while my brother was sick. (He had been to see me in the jail previous to that time—see answers to Newel's and Dr. Sapp's testimony.) I was no longer in doubt as to who had filled my sister's 202 THE LIFE STORY OF mind with suspicion and prompted her to the course she had taken. I told Mr. Castle of the matter, and his answer was, “The jury will never agree, and we'll use such testimony afterwards.” The public can, perhaps, judge best what such an answer would mean from an attorney in a trial for murder. All that I know is thateverything seemed to be done to screen Mr. Newel, even the black- mailing letters he had written to me being sup- pressed. I had concluded to employ other counsel, and thought of engaging Judges Ranney and Coffin- berry, but was told that they would not act in a case where Mr. Castle was engaged. I spoke to Mr. Castle about having others, and he flatly refused to have either of the ones mentioned, but said he had a man whom he would bring. He afterwards brought Mr. Palmer. I had been in poor health when I was arrested, and the awful charge of murder, with the change from a comfortable home to quarters in a jail, lack of confidence in my attorney and the complica- tions that had arisen, proved too much for my SARAH M. VICTOR. 203. strength, and I was taken down with what the physician pronounced typhoid fever. Dr. D. H. Beckwith, now practicing in Cleveland, attended me, and although the life he saved was then of doubtful tenure, I have lived to thank him. now, twenty years after. My trial was postponed from the February until the May term of court, and during the intervening time, Judges Ranney and Coffinberry were sent to see me, by either Rev. Cooley or Starkey, of Trinity church. I told them of my lack of faith in my counsel, but as Mr. Castle already had the case, there seemed little for them to do further than to offer advice, with what I knew, from Mr. Castle's remarks, was a probability that it would not be acted upon. Both Judge Ranney and Judge Coffinberry said they would do what they could, and they were present at my trial, Judge Ranney two days, I think, and Judge Coffinberry something more; but with the leading attorney acting at times in almost direct opposition to them, small benefit was derived from their efforts. It was by the foregoing complications that the public was led to think that Judges Ranney and 204 THE LIFE STORY OF Coffinberry were my attorneys, and that if with such able counsel I could not be shown innocent, I must be guilty. Had Judges Ranney and Coffin- berry alone been my attorneys, I feel certain that I would have gone out of the court-house exonerated of all suspicion of crime. I will here say that both Judge Ranney and Judge Coffinberry told me to defend myself, what- ever the consequences might be to others. But, knowing that all I could truthfully say of my sister, who it will be seen was the one who had been foremost in causing my arrest, would only shift the popular indignation to her shoulders, and feeling certain that she was but the misguided instrument of others—Mr. Newel in the first place and officers of the law with others laterly—I dreaded to do anything unless all could be made clear. Yet, I told Mr. Castle what I wanted done, and at that time supposed there was no other reason for his not carrying out my wishes than the fact that he was almost constantly under the effects of liquor. The substance of all his reasons for not using the evidence at his command can be seen in the follow- SARAH M. VICTOR. 205. ing, which was a remark used as often as he called On 111c - “Oh, h- there's no convicting evidence, and if there was, they'd never convict a woman.” If the reader will understand that I even feared that Mr. Newel had managed to implicate my sister in regard to the arsenic I then supposed had really been found in my brother's body, the reason for my being lulled, even for a moment, by such soph- istry as Mr. Castle's, will be seen. On, I think, the eleventh day of May, I was arraigned for trial. I was still too weak to walk, and had to be carried to and from the court-room. The indictment charged me with having, on the twenty-sixth day of January, 1866, and at sundry times thereafter up to the fourth day of February, 1867, given my brother tengrains of white arsenic, in brandy, wine, beer, lemonade, whisky, water, gruel and other articles of food; also that I had given said arsenic with premeditation, malice, etc., etc., for the purpose of murdering my brother, and had thereby caused his death. I do not know what effect the reading of such a charge would have had on a guilty person, but I know that I wondered how any hand could ever 206 THE LIFE STORY OF have penned such things against me, and was amazed that such a charge could be made before a court in a civilized country, without so much as a shred of truth upon which to make it. I remember of becoming very tired and faint and confused, and of being unable to understand much that was said while in the court-room the first day, and that the succeeding days of my trial were but repetitions of the first. To give the reader a better idea of what the proceedings were than I could give in any other way, I have made extracts from, and condensed portions of the testimony, aiming to embrace all that seemed to bear the more heavily against me, and followed each with an answer in explanation. SARAH M. VICTOR. 207 CHAPTER XV. Testimony AND ANswers—LoREN MYERs—Some CoNEUsion— GEORGE RIDGEWAY-THE COFFIN-PLATE–W. B. STEDMAN– REMAINs – PRoctor THAYER – THE UNDERTAKER NOT CALLEd–ANNIE MILLER—PIE–ARSENIC For RATs—CALLEd HER HIS FRIEND–ABOUT THE Poison—REMARKS OF Coun- sel-J. W. Town ER–A VERBATIM REPORT-FELIX NicoLA –THAT TURNover—R. H. STROBRIDGE–JAY ODELL. N giving these condensations and extracts, | with their answers, to the public, I wish it to be fully understood that, although my answers are in some instances flat contradictions to the state- ments made in the testimony, I do not claim that any person giving the testimony is guilty of willful misrepresentation. It must be borne in mind that suspicion and prejudice ran to a height almost, if not quite touching delirium, at the time of my trial, and that under such circumstances people testifying might honestly err in their statements. I would also call attention to the fact that the oath taken by a person before testifying, only requires that 208 THE LIFE STORY OF the person shall tell the truth according to his or her “best knowledge and belief.” Added to the above is the fact that the records of testimony from which the extracts, etc., have been taken are themselves faulty and incomplete in wording in many instances. CONDENSATIONS OF AND EXTRACTS FROM TRANSCRIPTS OF THE TESTIMONY AS REPORTED BY BENJAMIN WEAVER AND C. G. T.INSLEY, STEN- OGRAPHERS. TESTIMONY OF LOREN Myers For the PRosecution. Loren Myers testified: That he sat up with William Parquet two nights–Wednesday and Sunday—a part of the time; that nobody but Mrs. Victor and Mrs. Gray sat up with him on the Wednesday night; that two men sat up with him on the Sunday night; that the two men sat up with him on the Wednesday night, and nobody but Mrs. Victor and Mrs. Gray on Sunday night, the night Parquet died; that nobody but Mrs. Victor and Mrs. Gray sat up with him on either or any night while Parquet was living; that a man SARAH M. VICTOR. 209 named King sat up with him on the Sunday night; that he saw Mrs. Victor give her brother one or more teaspoonfuls of a liquid that looked like water, from a tumbler on a bureau in the sick room; that Parquet complained of pain, vomited and was thirsty. ANswer: The medicine I gave from a tumbler was simply Dr. Sapp's medicine, which looked like water, and which my brother said did not seem to him like medicine, and sickened him. Further remark on Mr. Myers' testimony for the prosecu- tion seems unnecessary; as it must be apparent that he was somewhat confused. Loren Myers testified for the defense: That he sat up with William Parquet on the night he died; that no chloroform was used to his knowledge on that night. ANswer: When Mr. Myers was called by the defense, some time had elapsed, and he had evi- dently collected his thoughts; for it is true that there was no chloroform in my house at the time, and certainly none used. TESTIMONY OF GEO. RIDGEWAY, DEPUTY SHERIFF. George Ridgeway testified: That he helped raise 210 THE LIFE STORY OF the body of Parquet, a year after burial; that the features were not fully decomposed; that the plate of the coffin had fallen down on the body; that the name on the coffin-plate was, he thought, “Purzet”—was certain about the “z,” but not the “tl.” ANswer: The case that my brother was buried in was a valuable one, and the fact that the plate had fallen in gave rise to suspicions in my mind that the remains had been tampered with after burial, which suspicions are not yet entirely dis- pelled. The mistake that occurred in my brother's name was made by the engraver. He produced the “q” as a “z,” as it was written. I never heard that there was any other mistake, and did not know anything of any until it was too late to rectify it. I then spoke to Mr. Howland, the undertaker, about it, and he explained how it had happened. It was one of the “circumstances” used against me. TESTIMONY OF W. B. STEDMAN, CEMETERY SUPERINT ENDENT. W. B. Stedman testified: That the body was buried under the name of “William Parquette; " z,” probably mistaking the letter SARAH M. VICTOR. 211 that there was a small box of remains on the coffin when disinterred. ANswer: After I came to Cleveland to live, I had the remains of my first born boy, together with those of the babe whose birth followed his, taken up from the cemetery at Collamer and buried in Woodland cemetery, where I had bought a lot, and my brother was buried in the same grave. testimony of Procter THAYER, DEMONSTRATOR - OF ANATOMY. Dr. Thayer testified: That Parquet's body was in a fair state of preservation, for the length of time buried; that he discovered no trace of disease in the body, except in the bladder; that the effect of arsenic when injected into a body was to pre- serve it, and that he thought the weight of authority in favor of the position that its effect was similar when taken into the stomach; that no two persons were affected alike by taking arsenic; that there were many theories; that chloroform would mask the symptoms of arsenical poisoning. ANswer: Dr. Thayer's statement in regard to the preserving effects of arsenic brings to mind the 212 THE LIFE STORY OF fact that I had Mr. Howland use a preparation to preserve my brother's remains, so as not to be obliged to hasten the burial, as I was told by those who laid him out, that I would have to. It may be readily seen that the undertaker should have been called on to testify how much arsenic he used. Arsenic was and is in common use for that purpose, as is well known. Mr. Howland was not called on, and under the ruling of Judge Foote, who tried me, I doubt if it would have been of any use to have called anybody further than was done. TESTIMONY OF ANNIE MILLER. Annie Miller testified: That she was past nine- teen years old; that she had lived with Mrs. Victor “off and on" up to the time of William Parquet's death since she was eight; that Mrs. Victor told her that William had inflammation of the bowels; that two days before Mrs. Victor was arrested, she saw her, and Mrs. Victor asked her if she remem- bered what kind of pie William ate before taking sick; that Mrs. Victor talked of giving arsenic to rats long before she (the witness) ever saw Wil- liam Parquet; that Mrs. Victor had a cat many years, and long before Parquet came to her house; SARAH M. VICTOR. 213 that Mrs. Victor said her brother ate some pie that was too cold for him, and felt sick from that time; that before William was buried, Mrs. Victor said the doctors wanted to open him, and that she ob- jected—that she would allow two to open him, but not a number; that after his burial, Mrs. Victor said she would have watchers at the grave to pre- vent the doctors from getting him; that Mrs. Victor gave her a chain two days before arrest, telling her to keep it, as she might need it; that Mrs. Victor never made her presents before; that Mrs. Victor objected to William's going out much, saying it wasn't best for young people to have so much company; that William always “minded." Mrs. Victor and called her his friend. ANswer: At the time I talked with Annie Miller, just before my arrest, I told her that inclaiming that my brotherhad left property that should be divided with my sister, Mrs. Gray, somebody had circu- lated a story that my brother had a valuable chain, and that I would get it and show it to her that she might see how valuable it was. I then showed her the chain, telling her she might have it, but to keep it, as I might need it; meaning that I might have to produce it if my sister persisted 214, THE LIFE STORY OF in claiming that my brother left valuable property. That was all the dark mystery there was about a chain. As to ever making her any presents be- fore, I took Annie when she was a child, and cared for her through many years in which everything given her might be considered a present. After she became older, however, she usually earned all she got, as she was a good girl; and, indeed, one whose evidence I would never have attempted to buy with cheap jewelry. In regard to the arsenic for rats, Annie told the simplefact about it. Before my brother came home on a furlough, a neighbor of mine, the “Granny Snyder” I have already mentioned, told me that she was going to get arsenic for some rats that were running around between the houses. As Mrs. Snyder was very old, I was afraid she would put the arsenic where a pet kitten that had been my little boy's would get it, and so I told her that she had better let me get and fix it for the rats. She was glad to have it so, and I got it. As some remained after I had used all I needed, I took it up-stairs and put it under the edge of the carpet in a room that was little used, so that it would harm nobody. When my brother was home on SARAH M. VICTOR. 215 a furlough and a day or two before he started to return, I was with him in the room where the arsenic was, and we were exchanging coins as keepsakes. One of the coins dropped on the floor, and as my brother passed his hand over the carpet to search for it, he felt the paper of arsenic, and said there was something under the carpet. “Oh, don't touch it,” I said, then telling him. what it was. “If I had known you had that,” said he, “I’d - have poisoned that dog with it.” There had been a dog that barked at him every time he came in or went out ever since he had been at home, and he had threatened to shoot it. I told him he should not kill the dog, and after he went out, I took the arsenic and put it in the stove and destroyed it. My brother soon returned to the army, and the incident went out of my mind. But, when I was asked, after my arrest, if I had any arsenic in the house, I recalled the only time I had had any, and not remembering that I had destroyed it, told the sheriff to look under the carpet in the room mentioned. When Mr. Castle learned that the sheriff had ºf 6 THE LIFE STORY OF found no arsenic in my house, he and Mr. Palmer came to me and told me to testify that I had never had any. I told them that I would not, as it would be false. “Oh, h-1” said Mr. Castle, and Mr. Palmer said, “That woman will tell the truth if she hangs for it.” I advised my brother to stay in of nights, and not cause me the trouble that my sister did. He always did obey me, and never caused me trouble knowingly. He also called me his friend, and he realized that I was such, up to the last conscious moment of his life. TESTIMONY OF J. W. TOWNER. J. W. Towner testified: That he took short-hand notes of Mrs. Victor's testimony before the coro- ner; that he knew he had a verbatim report; that he took the notes at the instance of Prosecuting Attorney Jones; that he did not report what Mrs. Victor said about theengraving on the coffin-plate —that he thought it was not testimony; that he could not tell how many times he made up his mind that things Mrs. Victor said were not testi- mony; that he took the report as well as he could. SARAH M. VICTOR. 217 ANswer: Mr. Towner's method of taking down the testimony may be regarded as a sample of the accuracy with which my whole trial was con- ducte TESTIMONY OF FELIX NICOLA, SHERIFF. Felix Nicola testified: That he arrested Mrs. Victor; that while in jail she told him she had arsenic under the carpet in the “middle” room up- stairs at her house; that he went there and found none; that Mrs. Victor told him that her brother had been in the habit of “appropriating” things from the shops where he went, the grocery of Mr. Myers in particular, which Mrs. Gray and herself did not approve of; that she said that on “this occasion.” Mrs. Gray searched his pockets and took out a turnover, and after scolding her brother, put it on a plate in the pantry; that he did not think he heard all of Mrs. Victor's testi- mony before the coroner; that he told Mrs. Victor at her house on Webster street that he was the sheriff and had come to arrest her; that he did not state to her at her house that he came to arrest her, but, in substance, that he induced her to go with him by saying that Prosecuting Attor- 218 THE LIFE STORY OF ney Jones wanted to see her in regard to her right to the money that had been paid her; that he did not charge his mind with the visit at all. ANswer: Mr. Nicola never had any conversation with me in regard to my brother's having been in the habit of “appropriating” anything, either from Mr. Myers' shop or anywhere else. My brother never stole, or “appropriated” anything in his life, to my knowledge; and as I was in no con- dition to notice all that people testified to at the time, the record of testimony, read by me since my liberation, gave me the first knowledge that any such accusation was ever made. The only solution that I can arrive at is simply that Mr. Nicola was mistaken in the person with whom he had the con- versation. My sister, Mrs. Gray, was very friendly with Mr. Myers, and my brother, who was also friendly with him, told her that if she carried her acquaint- ance with Mr Myers further than ordinary friendship, he would tell him that she was deceiv- ing him. My brother's words were, in substance if not literally, “Myers is too good a young fellow for you to fool, and I won't stand it.” SARAH M. VICTOR. 219 My sister was very angry, and made some threats of what she would do, as might be ex- pected; but whether she ever fabricated any story to the effect that my brother had stolen from Mr. Myers' store, as an offset to anything my brother might say, I do not know. I only know that I never said that my brother “appropriated" any- thing, for he did not. The turnover, about which so much has been said by the papers, was brought home by my brother one day during the week previous to his illness, from a bakery where he had been assisting, and never had anything to do with his sickness, in any way. When I was told that a turnover had been poisoned, I simply answered that if it had, the poison must have got in at the bakery, not supposing that any such thing had occurred, as it had not. The pie my brother ate was a piece of mince pie that had frost in it. As every housewife knows, it is the custom to leave mince pies where they will keep cold until needed, when they are warmed for use. My brother ate the piece with- out warming, and I told him it was not good for him to do so. 220 THE LIFE STORY OF TESTIMONY OF R. H. STROBRIDGE. R. H. Strobridge testified: That William Par- quet made a bargain with him for a lot, and had papers made out in his own name; that the land was not conveyed on those papers, but that Mrs. Victor had papers made out in her name, and the lot was conveyed to her; that Mrs. Victor and not Parquet paid money on it. ANswer: When my brother talked of getting married, I told him I would make the first pay- ment on a place for him, and if he would save his money and make the other payments, he could have a home. He found a place, and before I saw him, had papers made out in his own name. He had no faculty for saving money, and I feared that if he had a deed of the place before all the pay- ments were made, he would, likely, lose the whole. So I had the papers made in my own name, and paid two hundred dollars. We both always spoke of the place as being his, but he understood the whole matter, and knew that it would not be really his until he had made the other payments. TESTIMONY OF JAY ODELL, RECORDER. Jay Odell testified: To a book as being a book SARAH M. VICTOR. 221. of records. Records considered in evidence con- tained a deed from Robert H. Strobridge to Sarah M. Victor, dated September 5, 1866, and recorded on page one hundred and fifty-eight, volume one hundred and forty-three; also a mortgage dated September 3, 1866. 222 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER XVI. A PLACE AT EucLID–THREE HUNDRED Doll ARs—ON THANKs- GIVING—JAMEs W. LEE–E. W. FENNER—ABOUT CHANGING Doctors—MARY DAVIS-ELIZA WELCH-IDA WEILy—HEART DISEASE—LYMAN D. HUNT—A RING—“TAKE IT AND KILL Yourself"—HANNAH Newell–FAINTING AT THE GRAve— JARED P. NEwell–SEE FILEs—SEE REGISTER—J. G. BLAck Paid–ALL Expenses. TESTIMONY OF ANN MOREHOUSE. A”. MOREHOUSE testified: That she had known Mrs. Victor a little less than two years; that “perhaps in March,” Mrs. Victor told her that she was going to Euclid to buy “Billy” a place; that Mrs. Victor said “Billy” had sent her three hundred dollars from the army, and she was going to put it in land for him; that Mrs. Victor told her that the money was in the bank, and that the time Mrs. Victor said so was between Thanks- giving and the time William Parquet died; that Mrs. Victor told her that she (Mrs. Victor) could get nothing on either insurance policy. SARAH M. VICTOR. 223 ANswer: The first time I ever saw Mrs. More- house was on the Thanksgiving of 1866, when my sister brought her to my house to dinner, having previously told me of her and asked my consent to invite her. As I had bought the place for my brother in the September before, as is shown in the last chapter, and as my brother died in less than three months after I first saw Mrs. Morehouse, I could not have told her, “perhaps in March,” nor at any other time, that my brother had sent me three hundred dollars from the army, and I was going to put it in land for him. Does it not appear somewhat remarkable that I should have told a person that I had three hundred dollars of my brother's money in the bank, more than a year after he had re- turned from the army, and when he could look after his own money? Mrs. Morehouse and my sister were very inti- mate, at one time, after my brother's death, room- ing together, and if Mrs. Morehouse asked me anything in regard to the insurance on my brother's life, I may have answered evasively, thinking the question prompted by my sister. The public may compare the statements made by 224. THE LIFE STORY OF Mrs. Morehouse, and come to its own con- clusions. TESTIMONY OF JAMES W. LEE OF THE FIRM OF CARLTON & LEE. James W. Lee testified: That Mrs. Victor re- turned a life insurance policy to his office, receipted for payment; that he did not think he paid the money on the policy, but that it was paid; that the money was left on deposit in the safe of Carlton & Lee, subject to Mrs. Victor's order; that he sometimes paid Mrs. Victor money in Mr. Carlton's absence; that he did not think there were any orders given; that he thought some five or six hundred dollars remained in their hands until after Mrs. Victor's arrest; that the five or six hundred dollars was taken up by an order. ANswer: Mr. Carlton wrote to me from the east, where he was at the time, and told me to take the policy to the office before the legal time ran out. I took it, as Mr. Lee testified. TESTIMONY OF E. W. FENNER. E. W. Fenner testified: That William Parquet worked for him about ten months; that when he SARAH M. VICTOR. 225 settled with him he paid him all up except seventy- five dollars, and gave him an order on Mrs. Victor for that amount; that he afterwards paid Mrs. Victor the seventy-five dollars, but had no receipt; that he might be mistaken about having paid it all; that Parquet had a fall in his (Fenner's) barn in May, he thought, of '66; that Parquet was not strong; that he sat up with him on Saturday might; that he thought something was said about chloroform, but he did not think any was used on Parquet that night; that Parquet vomited often and went to stool several times; that he thought he was a very sick man; that he told Mrs. Victor and Mrs. Gray he thought they ought to change doctors, and that Mrs. Victor said she did not think any doctor could help him; that Parquet and Ann, his (Fenner's) daughter, were particu- larly intimate; that his other daughter died while Parquet worked for him. The question in regard to William and Ann's contemplated matrimony was objected to, and the objection sustained. ANswer: Mr. Fenner gave my brother an order on me for seventy-five dollars. I owed Mr. Fen- ner about fifteen dollars for work on a house and fence, and he paid me about thirty-five dollars in 226 THE LIFE STORY OF money, and some potatoes and apples. The bal- ance of the seventy-five dollars has never been paid. Something may have been said about chloroform that night, but none was used, and there was none in my house. Whenever anything would be said about chang- ing physicians, my brother would say, “Don’t lose faith in your doctor, sister; for no doctor can help me.” I did think my brother would die, even from the fore part of the week, and doubtless said so. As soon as anything would be brought up that would have a tendency to show the true state of affairs with my brother on account of his disap- pointment, and thus help my case, Mr. Jones would object, and Judge Foote would almost in- variably sustain the objection. (See answer to testimony of J. W. Thomas and N. Merrill.) TESTIMONY OF MARY DAVIS. Mary Davis testified: That Mrs. Victor told her that William Parquet went out the night he was taken sick, and that he slipped on the front door- step on coming home, and, afterwards, ate a piece SARAH M. VICTOR. 227 of pie—mince pie, she thought—that had frost in it, and that Mrs. Victor said she thought that was what caused his illness. ANswer: I thought the fall on the steps had re-hurt the injured side—the one he fell on at Mr. Fenner's. | | TESTIMONY OF ELIZA WELCH. . Eliza Welch testified: That Mrs. Victor told her on the Saturday before William Parquet's death, that he had spasms of the stomach. | ANswer: As I know Mrs. Welch to be a con- scientious woman, I have no doubt I told her what she stated. My brother's stomach and side were all he complained of. TESTIMONY OF IDA WEILY. Ida Weily testified: That Mrs. Victor told her that William Parquet died of heart disease. ANswer: I feel sure that I did not say “disease,” but “trouble,” meaning that he was heart-broken over his disappointment. TESTIMONY OF LYMAN D. HUNT. Lyman D. Hunt testified: That he first visited 228 THE LIFE STORY OF Parquet on the Sunday evening that he was taken sick; that he took tea with him (Parquet) at that time, and that Parquet showed him a ring with “Miss Annie Fenner” engraved on the inside; that he (Hunt) was sent for on Tuesday night, and went to Mrs. Victor's with a man named Pumpin; that when he got there, he found Mrs. Gray on the sofa in Parquet's room, and that she stayed in the room till about twelve o'clock; that when Parquet asked for chloroform, Mrs. Victor said, “Take it and kill yourself if you want to, and leave your sister alone;” that Mrs. Victor sat on the bed fanning her brother, and seemed to “take it hardly;” that Mrs. Victor said she thought Parquet would die; that when Mrs. Victor went to lie down, on Friday night, she wanted the door left open, so that she could hear if her brother got worse, and be there if he died; that he (Hunt) answered that Parquet wasn't going to die as he “knowed" of; that Parquet vomited very often - on Tuesday night and went to stool once; that he went to see Parquet on the Sunday afternoon before he died, and that Mrs. Victor sent Mrs. Gray out after morphine about four o'clock, and when it was brought, Mrs. Victor gave Parquet SARAH M. VICTOR. - 229 a large dose; that chloroform was given five or six times Sunday afternoon; that Parquet holloed about once in fifteen or twenty minutes on Tues- day night; that all the medicine given Parquet was in powder; that Parquet took chloroform every fifteen minutes, and that itsent him to sleepin about four seconds; that Parquet would sleep about ten minutes; that in his waking intervals, he took his medicine, holloed and took more chloro- form; that when Mrs. Victor dealt out the morphine for her brother to take, Mr. Pumpin held a spoon and she tipped up the paper so the powder would go in. ANswer: Mr. Hunt took tea at my house on the Sunday before my brother was taken violently ill. He was the one mentioned before as having been invited by my brother. As the newspapers never neglected an opportu- nity to show my alleged heartlessness, by publish- ing the statement that when my brother asked for chloroform, to relieve the torture caused by arsenic administered by me in multiform ways, I said, “Die, and let your sister alone,” the testimony of Mr. Hunt in regard to the matter should have a passing notice. 230 THE LIFE STORY OF In the first place, I will say, emphatically, that I never made that remark. But, admitting that I made it, and even in the coarse form in which it is given in Mr. Hunt's testimony, what, let me ask, does it show to any fair-minded person, but an objection on my part to my brother's using chlo- roform, from fear that he would kill himself and thus leave me alone? I give the remark as it stands in the record; the reader may decide as to its weight and meaning. - On going into the room after being absent a moment, I saw Mr. Hunt with a bottle of liquor in his hand, and knowing that all rest was lost for that night, I had the door left open so that if my brother was neglected, I could hear him call. I sent Mrs. Gray out about two o'clock, Sunday afternoon, for some veratrum, and for nothing else. I did not dare to give my brother morphine when I knew he was so near death, and as I was still more afraid of chloroform, and Dr. Sapp's medicines seemed to be of no use, I sent for the veratrum. All the medicines were in powder on Friday and Sunday, but not on Tuesday. Mr. Pumpin gave no medicines except the powders left by Dr. Sapp. SARAH M. VICTOR. 231 No chloroform was used either on Sunday or the latter part of the week. By comparing portions I have italicized in Mr. Hunt's and my sister's tes- timony in regard to Tuesday night, some idea may beformed of the entire testimony as shown by the records. TESTIMONY OF HANNAH NEWEL. Hannah Newel testified: That she first saw Wil- liam Parquet at a party in Euclid about three or four weeks before his death, she thought; that her husband used to keep carriages fourteen or fifteen years before; that she did not go to Mrs. Victor's while Parquet was sick, but went to his funeral; that she returned to the cemetery with Mrs. Victor at the latter's request; that Mrs. Victor bent some twigs down on the grave of Parquet, so as to be able to tell if it was disturbed afterwards; that Mrs. Victor said afterwards in the presence of Mrs. Crozier that her brother might have been poisoned while at Mr. Fenner's; that Mrs. Victor and Mrs. Crozier had a quarrel. ANswer: When my brother's grave was dug, the box containin g the remains of my children was taken up, and was to be re-interred with my 232 - THE LIFE STORY OF brother's remains. After my brother's coffin was lowered into the grave, a man took up the box, when it came to pieces in his hands and the bones of my children fell to the ground. Thoughts of my baby, that I had loved so well, came to my mind and I fainted. The people hurried me to a carriage, and I was driven nearly home before I recovered sufficiently to realize what was being done. As soon as I collected my thoughts, I felt that I must go back and make sure that none of the remains of my children had been overlooked and left un- buried. So, as Mr. Newel had a carriage there, I got him to take me back, and asked his wife to go with me. No mother having lost a child, could see guilt in that action. It is quite possible that after reaching the ceme- tery and finding nothing neglected, I thought of the danger of my brother's body being taken up, for I was afraid the students whom Dr. Sapp had wanted to bring to my house might be determined to carry out their wishes. Had the whole truth been told, there would have been no room for suspicion. Mrs. Newel sent for me to come to her house to see Mrs. Crozier, whom I had never seen before. SARAH M. VICTOR. 233 - When I went, I found Mrs. Crozier to be a bitter enemy of the Fenners'. She insinuated that Mr. Fenner's people had been so much opposed to my brother's marriage with Ann, that they might have given him something. I thought it preposter- ous. I at last told the woman that I felt sure there was no such violent opposition, but that if I thought there was, or had been, I would have them answer for it. The woman made the state- ment to me, not I to her. TESTIMONY OF JARED P. NEWEL. Jared P. Newel testified: That he had lived in Cleveland about three years “this last time;" that he had known Mrs. Victor a little over a year; that he went in once, on Friday, to see Parquet while he was sick; that after her brother's death, Mrs. Victor said something about having his grave watched; that he took Mrs. Victor down to see Dr. Sapp two or three days after Parquet died; that Mrs. Victor asked him, in the jail, if he heard a conversation with Dr. Sapp, and said he must be deaf if he didn't; that Mrs. Victor said there was no insurance on Parquet's life—that it had run out. 234. THE LIFE STORY OF ANswer: Mr. Newel took me to Dr. Sapp's office, as he testified, and he took me there while my brother was sick, also. I asked him, in the jail, if he remembered the conversation with Dr. Sapp on the first occasion, and found that his memory failed him when it would help my case to remember. It will be seen that Mr. Newel testified that he had lived in Cleveland about three years “this last time,” thereby giving the inference that he had lived in Cleveland at some previous time. Next let it be noticed that Hannah Newel (who was Mr. Newel's wife) testified that her husband kept carriages fourteen or fifteen years before—that is, before the time of her testifying, which was in 1868. Now, if the reader will take fourteen or fifteen years from 1868, he will get the dates 1853–54. Then, if the reader is a resident of Cleveland or should chance to be here, let him go. to the rooms of the Historical society, in the Savings Bank building on the public square, and look over the files of the Cleveland daily papers of 1853, and he will find that Mrs. Sigsby was murdered in her home on Muirson street in May of that year. From the Historical rooms, let him SARAH M. VICTOR. 235. go to the county jail and examine the register in which the names, residence, crimes, etc., etc., of those received therein are entered, and he will find that all entries from 1851 to 1855 are missing and upon inspection cannot fail to conclude that the leaves which should have contained those entries have been cut clear and removed from the register. Mrs. Sigsby was a woman whose house was said to be frequented by men of the city, and what knowledge Mr. Newel may have gained in his duties as hackman that was potent enough for his protection, I will not attempt to say. I could go much farther with this matter, but I have no desire to do more than to show that I have not been deceiving my friends for the last twenty years, as those interesting themselves in the case have tried to force them to believe. Mr. Newel and many of his helpers are dead, but that I am not, is only through God's mercy and the help of just people. TESTIMONY OF J. G. BLACK. J. G. Black testified: That he let two sleighs to William Parquet with which to go to Mr. Fen- ner's, in January; that Parquet paid the bill. 236 THE LIFE STORY OF - ANswer: I got up a party to please my brother —to give him an opportunity to see Miss Fenner, as he could not give her up. I paid all expenses, amounting to about forty dollars. I sent the money to the liveryman by my brother. SARAH M. VICTOR. 237 CHAPTER XVII. LIBBIE GRAy—Could NOT READ OR WRITE–MORPHINE ON FRI- day–Cry AND Hollo–Would HAve Two Doctors—ON SUNDAY. P. M.–ON TUESDAy–REPLy—WHISKY AND WATER –AT THE FUNERAL–NEver MIND–TAKING A Boy–SELL- ING A Lot-WENT. To NEwell's—“SAILED My LAST TRIP’’— EDw1N Tolson–IN GREAT AGONy—“A KIND OF SLEEP ''- INsinuations—CHLoRoRoRM–A SINKING SPELL. TESTIMONY OF LIBBIE GRAY. L". GRAY testified: That she had lived in Cleveland six years; that she had lived in Cleveland six months; that she had lived with Mrs. Victor about two years; that William Parquet came home from the army when she was at Mrs. Victor's; that Parquet was taken sick on Monday night; that he went to the cupboard and ate a piece of pie before going to bed on that night; that she first learned of his illness on Tuesday after- noon, when she was sent for to her shop; that Parquet could not read or write; that she thought 238 THE LIFE STORY OF she sat up with her brother (Parquet) on Thurs- day night in company with whoeverelse was there —that somebody was always there; that she gave her brother chloroform a good many times; that Mrs. Victor gave him morphine once, and she thought it was during the day on Friday; that at one time she found Mrs. Victor crying by her brother's bed, and that when she (Mrs. Gray) asked her why she cried, she said she thought her brother would die; that Mrs. Victor gave Parquet chloroform; that on Sunday, between three and four o'clock in the afternoon, her brother said he wanted some whisky and sugar and water, and that she saw her sister (Mrs. Victor) give it to him; that soon after that he began to cry and hollo; that she did not see the whisky prepared; that two men, Pumpin and Hunt, saw Parquet while he was suffering from it; that she went to bed about twelve o'clock the same night—the night before her brother died; that when her brother was dying, Mrs. Victor first said, go for a doctor, and then, that they had better go for Mr. Carlton, because her brother was dying; that she wanted her brother opened, but that Mrs. Victor objected, and said that she (Mrs. Gray) had no feeling; that SARAH M. VICTOR. 239 Mrs. Victor consented to have two doctors open her brother, but did not want any more; that Mrs. Victor said that if Dr. Sapp said any more about it, she would ask him if he killed her brother, and that if he did not know what he was doctor- ing him for, she would have him arrested; that Mrs. Victor afterwards told Dr. Sapp that if it was any of his own folks, he would feel as she did about having him opened; that Mrs. Victor told her at the funeral that she ought to show that she had more feeling, as she was not crying; that she never knew about any insurance policy except the accident policy until after her brother's death, and that then Mrs. Victor said that “Billy died from that hurt,” and that if it could be shown that he died from anything else, they, Mrs. Gray and Mrs. Victor, could get the insurance; that (in sub- stance) herself and Mrs. Victor had a quarrel in Mr. Newel's kitchen, and that Mrs. Victor said that her brother knew nothing about the insur- ance—that he was away in the army when it was got, and knew nothing about it; that Mrs. Victor said she would build a house on a lot of hers (Mrs. Gray's) if Mrs. Gray would give her a deed of the lot; that Mrs. Victor said she would do anything 240 THE LIFE STORY OF for her she could do; that Parquet spoke of going west, and Mrs. Victor said she wanted him to stay with her, as he was the only brother she had; that Mrs. Victor said she would get him a situation on the lake with Captain Visher; that she (Mrs. Gray) got up on the Tuesday morning after Parquet was taken sick Monday night, and went to his room to call him, and not finding him either there or in the kitchen, went to her shop without her break- fast and did not go home to dinner; that when her son was sent to her shop to tell her that her brother was sick, she went to see her brother and stayed fifteen minutes and then went back to her shop, spent the evening out, and did not get home until about eight o'clock, when she rang the bell, - but did nothing more, and as no one let her in, she went back to her shop and slept in the room of a woman who lived overhead; that she did not think she went home at all on Friday until even- ing; that she did not think she was in her brother's room Sunday afternoon before eight o'clock; that she gave her brother chloroform every evening; that she gave him none on Wednesday and Sun- day evenings; that she thought her name was Gray; that she had at different times gone by dif- SARAH M. VICTOR. 24.1 ferent names—by those of Carther, Bails, Robin- son and Gibson. ANswer: The first statement of my sister's that calls for an answer is the one in which she says our brother could not read or write. William could both read and write. His ability to do either was limited, however, his reading being like that of a child, while he wrote with such difficulty that he Very much disliked to take a pen in his hand, par- ticularly in the presence of strangers. Yet, he could write sufficiently well for me to read what he wrote. Her statement that someone was always there while William was sick, is true; as one or more of his friends or associates stayed with him every night of his illness. Chloroform was used on my brother until I threw it away, as told in my answer to Dr. Sapp's testimony, and no longer to my knowledge. She testified that she found me crying at my brother's bedside. I would be glad to say that I ever saw her cry over our brother except when in fright at his spells of swooning, and when he was dying. But the sad truth was that she disliked William, and never fully controlled the feeling even 24.2 THE LIFE STORY OF during his last illness. While she was still in the west, William was at one time with her, and they had some trouble with each other that my sister never forgot. William could not retain hard feel- ings towards anyone, and would do anything for my sister, but when she would disregard my wishes, he would become angry, and the conse- quence was that they were constantly in discord. On the Sunday evening before William died I gave him some whisky and water with a teaspoon —perhaps two teaspoonfuls. He did ask for it, and as I felt that he was beyond the help of any- thing except somestimulant, which might possibly revive him for a few hours, and as I did not want to deny him anything in his last moments, I gave it to him. He soon became restless, but it was the restlessness that precedes death, and I do not know whether the whisky made any difference in it or not; I only know that I gave it with the best of intentions. I heard before my arrest, that Dr. Sapp had been told that I had threatened to have him ar. rested for malpractice; but I never had threatened such a thing nor had any intention of the kind; and if I ever made such a remark as my sister SARAH M. VICTOR. 24.3 testified to, it was certainly never expressed in such words, and must have been made when I was irritated by the thought that after having shown a seeming apathy in my brother's case that I could not understand, Dr. Sapp then wanted to bring a class of students into my house to cut up and comment on my brother's body. I did tell my sister to put on at least an appear- ance of decency at William's funeral, but not until two ladies, one the wife of one of the rectors of Trinity church, had spoken to me in regard to her light and indifferent manner. The testimony in regard to what I said of the insurance on my brother's life is so plainly self- refuting that explanation seems unnecessary, yet I will state the fact that my sister was told of the insurance repeatedly both by William and my- self. When my brother got the insurance, it was understood between us that if he should die and I receive the money, I should do what I thought right by our sister Libbie. She was then in Penn- sylvania with her husband, Dr. Gray, but as there was constant disagreement between them, I told my brother that I had no doubt they would finally separate. He then told me of the trouble 244, THE LIFE STORY OF he had had with Libbie in the west, and said it would be folly to give her anything outright, as she would soon squander everything and again be in need of help. - When William finally returned from the army, Libbie was with me, and many times afterwards when she would complain that her work was hard (she did a small millinery and dressmaking business, in which I had myself established her), he would say to her jokingly, yet half in earnest, as he never thought he would live long, “Never mind, Libbie, I've got my life insured, and I shan't live long.” From the first, my sister had the impression that William's life was insured for her and myself jointly. When my brother and Ifound that she had that im- pression, he said it was best not to undeceive her, as it would only make her angry. I did not un- deceive her, both for the same reason that my brother did not, and the additional reason that I never thought that my brother would die, and consequently never calculated on the results of his death. As a consequence of the impression held by my sister, she never opened her shop after William SARAH M. VICTOR. 24.5 died, and soon began to inquire about the insur- ance money. The responsibility of righting mat- ters had come upon me so suddenly and unexpect- edly that I felt almost incapable of acting at all. My health was miserable, and knowing what my sister's anger was, I dreaded to arouse it. I did tell her, however, that the insurance was for her benefit only through me, at the same time telling her that I would build a house on a lot of mine, not hers, as she had none in Cleveland, and let her have it for a home. She did not accept the proposition, and I tried to reason with her. About that time, I went to Detroit to an orphan asylum, where I had once been before my sister came from St. Louis, to see if I could find a little boy to live with me, as my sister wanted her own. Thinking it would be pleasant for us to go to- gether, I took Libbie with me. I found a little fel- low who wanted to come with me, and my sister insisted on my taking him, which I did, and kept him up to the time I was arrested. He had no name, and I named him Curtis C. Victor. My sister was pleased with our trip, and I think I could have persuaded her to listen to reason, had it not been for Mr. Newel's influence. 246 THE LIFE STORY OF I was ill, and went to Dr. Seelye's Water Cure, in Cleveland, and time passed on. At last my sister sold a lot she had been given by Dr. Gray in their final settlement, and which was in Corry, Pennsylvania, where she separated from him. During my absence my sister's mind had been so worked on, that as soon as she sold the lot in Corry she left my house and went to Mr. Newel's to live. I believe I could have shown her the folly of such a step, had not Mr. Newel himself come to my house and said to her, “Our house is just as much your home as this is,” in that way inducing her to disregard me. At the time, I thought Mr. Newel's family wanted my sister to make her home with them because they knew she would have money from the sale of the lot, with which to pay her board for awhile. I became convinced afterwards that the getting of my sister out of my house and where her mind could be worked upon by others was a vital point with Mr. Newel, and explained the audacity of his conduct in coming into my house and insisting on her leaving me. At the time of which my sister testified of our SARAH M. VICTOR. 24.7 being in Mr. Newel's kitchen, she was claiming that she knew the policy was made out for her benefit as well as mine, and that I was trying to defraud her out of the money. I simply told her that she, not he, knew nothing about it, for my brother was away in the army when he got it; which was a fact, he only being home on a fur- lough. It will be remembered that my sister was in Pennsylvania when William first came home, and did not see him until he was discharged. After my brother came home from Mr. Fenner's, he would at times think he could not stay in Cleveland after being disappointed in his matters with Miss Fenner, and said he thought he would go west. I did not want him to go so far away from me again, and thought that if I could get him a situation on the lakes, he would often be in Cleveland, and, moreover, that the excitement of the work would keep his mind from dwelling on his disappointment. I knew Captain Visher, whose steamer ran in and out of Cleveland, and told my brother I would send for him. I did so, but he did not come until the Saturday before my brother died. He then tried to cheer William, telling him that the steamer was already being 24.8 THE LIFE STORY OF fitted up, and that he could invite his friends to take a trip with him occasionally. But William said he knew he would never get well. When the captain told him he would be “all right again in a few months,” William said, “No, Captain Visher; I've sailed my last trip.” William had been on the water at times during the years he had been away from me, and that was the reason I thought of such a situation for him. My sister knew when William was taken sick on Monday night. I have no recollection of her being out all night while William was sick, and if she had rung for admission at any hour of the night during his illness, she would have been admitted. - TESTIMONY OF EDWIN TOLSON. Edwin Tolson testified: That he lived near Mrs. Victor's; that he heard a “wailing” at his gate, on Thursday night, three days before Parquet died, and that on asking who was there, found a boy named Wesley; that he ran over to Mrs. Victor's and found Parquet in “great agony,” Mrs. Gray in great distress from grief and Mrs. Victor with her arms around Parquet; that Par- SARAH M. VICTOR. 249 quet seemed, as he (Tolson) looked at him, to be in “a kind of sleep,” that he (Tolson) “would call comatose;” that he did not go to Mrs. Victor's again until Parquet was dead; that he thought from some discolorations and marks found on the body when he laid Parquet out, that he ought to be opened, to see if he had been treated for the right disease; that he told Mrs. Victor that soldiers were not always the most moral men living; that he told Mrs. Victor (in substance) that some vagabond medical men would so treat men who had been imprudent that their lives would go out like the snuff of a candle; that Mrs. Victor objected to her brother's body being opened to be handled by young students, but said she would not feel as bad about it if Dr. Beckwith and Dr. Sapp did it. Mr. Tolson was recalled, and testified, that when he went into Parquet's room on Thursday night there was a lamp burning without a chimney, and as he felt a sense of suffo- cation, he had the lamp removed; that there was a vial on the bureau containing a liquid, but that he could not swear what the liquid was; that on that night, he saw Mrs. Victor have the vial and a handkerchief in her hand; that after Parquet 250 THE LIFE STORY OF died, the sheet with which he was covered was saturated half way down with chloroform. ANswer: Mr. Tolson said, as is seen, that when he was sent for in the night, he found my brother in great agony, and follows by saying that as he looked at my brother, he, the latter, seemed to be in a kind of sleep, such as Mr. Tolson would call comatose. - How there could have been symptoms of great agony and a “kind of sleep” or comatose condi- tion at the same time, I leave the reader to deter- mine. The facts were, however, that on the night on, which Mr. Tolson was sent for, my brother had a sinking spell, of which he had a number from about Wednesday up to the time of his death, and we thought he was dying. When Mr. Tolson arrived, I was holding my brother's head up and applying such restoratives as were at hand, while my sister was standing by helpless with fright, as she always was at such times. After being re-called, Mr. Tolson is made to in- sinuate—he does not so testify—that I was admin- istering chloroform to my brother—on the same night that he was in the “great agony” and yet in “a kind of sleep” or comatose condition. SARAH M. VICTOR. - 251 My answer to the insinuation is that there was no chloroform in my house at the time to my knowledge, and certainly none used on my brother, for I would have detected it. The public may judge whether or not I would, in the presence of Mr. Myers (who was there), Mrs. Gray and Mr. Tolson, use chloroform on my brother, even had I wished to kill him, when he was so near death that I had sent out for the neighbors. The sheet was saturated with whisky and arnica as a pre- servative, and with nothing else. In regard to my objection to having a post- mortem examination, I will say that every word Mr. Tolson said to me in regard to it only in- creased my determination to carry out my brother's request, and not have his body examined and com- mented on. The reasons are obvious. I consented and proposed to have the physicians Mr. Tolson names. 252 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER XVIII. T)R. SAPP-A MISTAKE IN HIS PAPERs—THREw CHLoroform Away—ANswer — VERATRUM – IN No DANGER—WENT to Doctor’s OFFICE—ANNIE FENNER—GAv E BAck A RING— DR. S. R. BeckwitH – ExAMINED WILLIAM PARQUET-A CERTIFICATE – OF DATE of Policy – C. C. CARL'ron– ABOUT INSURANCE—THE HOUSE ON WEBSTER STREET-CAN Now THANK GoD–WILLIAM A. KING—J. W. THoMAs—N. MERRILL. TESTIMONY OF LEVI W. SAPP, HOMOEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN. T EVI. W. SAPP testified: That he first saw William Parquet at Mr. Fenner's, after the former had received a fall; that Mrs. Victor paid him for the visit; that he was called to attend Parquet one or two days after he was taken with his last illness; that he thought Parquet suffering from dysentery; that Parquet had pains in his stomach and right side, with some thirst; that there was some nausea; that there was tenesmus or straining during evacuations, and the stool was SARAH M. VICTOR. 253, bloody; that Mrs. Victor told him Parquet had slipped on the doorstep and eaten a piece of cold pie; that he gave Parquet aconite and mercury, also bromide and russ; that he believed his medi- cines were to be given in water; that he did not see Parquet at stool, but saw the faecal matter mixed with blood atometime during his first visits; that he had made a mistake in his papers, and could not tell how many visits he made; that he saw little change in the disease or symptoms up to Sunday morning previous to Parquet's death; that he told Mrs. Victor there was no danger; that Mrs Victor did not visit his office during Parquet's illness; that about the middle of Parquet's sick- ness, Mrs. Victor said Mrs. Gray wanted to give her brother chloroform, and that she, Mrs. Victor, threw it out the window; that he changed Par- quet's medicine after the first or second visit, but could not tell what he changed to; that he did not know that he knew anything of veratrum be- ing given. In answer to, perhaps, the greater number of questions asked him in his somewhat lengthy testimony, Dr. Sapp expressed an inability to remember. ANswer: When my brother was taken sick on - - 254. THE LIFE STORY OF Monday night, I thought the cause was his hav- ing eaten the cold pie. I took him into my room because there was no stove in his, and thought that with care he would soon be better. As he had pains in his stomach and side, I gave him some veratrum that I had in the house for myself, as I had taken it for pain in the chest and sup- posed it would relieve him. It may not have been the kind of medicine he should have had, but the fault, if there was any, was in my judgment and not in my intentions. My brother did not want a physician, and I did not send for one until, during the day on Tuesday, I saw he was getting no better, when I sent for Dr. Sapp. The doctor did not come until Wednes- day morning, according to my recollection. He may have come Tuesday evening. The medicines left by the doctor on his first and, I think, up to his third visit, were to be taken in water; but William said he wished I would ask the doctor to give him something else, as the liquid sickened him in the taking. I spoke to the doctor, and he changed to powders. In my trial great stress was laid on the alleged fact that I did most of the talking about my brother's med- SARAH M. VICTOR. 255 icines and condition. I certainly did the talking on the occasion mentioned, and my brother would hardly have liked to say to Dr. Sapp, as he did to me, that his medicines were so flat and sicken- ing that the sight of them turned his stomach. He knew that I would put the matter in a better light, and so left it to me. Dr. Sapp did tell me that my brother was in no danger, and thinking that he was deceived by the quiet state my brother was in of mornings, I got Mr. Newel to drive me down to his office, when I asked Dr. Sapp if he would make his visits in the afternoon. I see that the record of testimony does not contain the statement made by me that Mr. Newel drove me to Dr. Sapp's office during my brother's illness; but I did make such a state- ment, Mr. Newel did drive me down there, and I did ask Dr. Sapp to make his visits in the after- noon. I well remember that the doctor was talk- ing to a man on horseback, and that I had to wait some time before speaking to him. I recall, also, that he said he was very busy, and gave me no definite answer. I remember, moreover, that Mr. Newel spoke of the doctor's seeming indiffer- ence, and that his words were something to the 256 THE LIFE STORY OF effect that the doctor did not seem to think “com- mon folks were of much account.” The evidence of both Dr. Sapp and Mr. Newel as called out to refute the statement, is given, but the statement itself does not appear in the record. On the second or third day, I can not tell defi- nitely which, after my brother was taken sick, I went into the room after being out ashort time, and found him in a partially unconscious state and my sister lying beside him on the bed in the same condition. There was a strong odor of chloro- form in the room, and I thought in a moment, that my sister had attempted to administer some to William—we had got some at his request on Tuesday—and had come near killing both him and herself. - I worked to restore my brother first, and as soon as I saw he was reviving, I caught hold of my sister and raised her up, when she said, as I dis- tinctly remember, “Oh, Toot! I feel so strange!” “Toot” was a nickname by which our family often called me. - I was thoroughly frightened, and very much out of patience with my sister. I knew she had no judg- ment in such matters, and that I could not trust SARAH M. VICTOR. 257 her in my absence, so I took the remaining chloro- form and threw it out of the window. When Dr. Sapp next came, I told him what I had done and asked him to give directions that no chloroform should be used, as I thought my sister would heed what he said, although she always seemed deter- mined to disobey me. I did not tell him of my sister's action, because that would have obliged me to tell that she would not heed me, and I did not want to parade my family troubles before him. Dr. Sapp failed to say in his testimony, that I made the request, yet I did make it, and although he did not give the direction I asked, he told me that if my brother needed anything quieting, to give him morphine, as that was better for him than chloroform. That, and that only, was the reason that morphine was used. It was never used but once that I remember of, and certainly never more than twice. - It will be seen that the doctor's memory would not enable him to tell what he changed the medi- cines to; and it must be plainly apparent to every- body that had he been able to tell what medicines he changed to, some idea might have been arrived 258 THE LIFE STORY OF at as to the form—whether powder or liquid. The object of the prosecution was to show that all the prescribed medicines were in liquid form, and that the powders were given by me, to poison my brother. In regard to the veratrum, I do not know that the doctor did “know that he knew " of its being given, but I know that I told him that I gave it. Since my release I have learned that Dr. Sapp has gained some notoriety by being connected with a ‘spirit telegraph,” by which he receives messages from those who have passed into the future life. If such is the case, without intending any covert fling at the many good people who believe in spiritualism, but in all sincerity I say that I hope his spirit friends will prompt his mem- ory, should he ever again be called on to testify in a case where a human life is at stake. TESTIMONY OF ANNIE FENNER. Annie Fenner testified: That on the night of the sleigh-ride of January 22 she gave Parquet back a ring that he had given her; that she went away from home on a visit before Parquet left her father's. SARAH M. VICTOR. 259 ANswer: I got the party up, as mentioned in the answer to Mr. Black's testimony, for my brother's benefit, as he wanted to see Miss Fenner and learn whether the breaking of the engagement was final. That night decided the matter, and my brother had no desire to live after that, as he said to several persons. TESTIMONY OF S. R. BECKWITH, M. D. S. R. Beckwith testified: That he examined William Parquet for life insurance and made out a certificate; that Parquet and Mrs. Victor came to his office together; that he had the impression that Parquet was going back to the army. ANswer: There is in the record of testimony a good deal said about the date of the life insurance policy. I got my brother examined—or rather went with him to be examined—as Dr. Beckwith testified, and the time was when my brother was home on a furlough, which was, I think, in June. That is all I know about the date. TESTIMONY OF C. C. CARLTON. C. C. Carlton testified: That William Parquet applied to him in person for life insurance; that he 260 THE LIFE STORY OF did not remember that Parquet applied in person for accident insurance, but thought Mrs. Victor brought the application; that he went with Parquet to see about bounty money; that he thought Parquet was discharged from the army about August or September of 1865; that Mrs. Victor did not go into the house on Webster street as a tenant; that he told her she could have the house at the same price he paid for it, and she went in on that condition; that there was no price fixed for the rent, and she was considered the owner; that she had paid two hundred dollars; that, he thought it was after her little boy died, she was in a great deal of trouble; that he had paid no money for the defense in Mrs. Victor's trial. ANswer: I do not know what Mr. Carlton may have thought, but I know that I did not know that any application for accident insurance had been made by my brother, until Mr. Carlton brought the policy, filled out and complete, to me at my house. I had heard my brother speak of getting such a policy, but knew nothing more. I certainly was in a great deal of trouble from the death of my little boy, but I can now thank SARAH M. VICTOR. 261 God that my little boy did not live to know the trouble that came to his mother later. TESTIMONY OF WILLIAM. A. KING. William A. King testified: That he sat up with Parquet the night he died; that he knew nothing of any chloroform being used; that he gave Par- quetmedicine; that the medicines were in two kinds of powders, and were done up in twoforms; that he gave first one, and then the other; that he admin- istered the medicine by pouring it “right from the paper, as they generally take homoeopathic medi- cine;” that he administered most of the medicine given to Parquet from 9 P. M. till 2 A. M., as Mrs. Victor “looked hard,” and he did not want her to get sick; that he wanted Mrs. Victor to rest; that she did lie down on the lounge about eleven o'clock, but would get up every time her brother moved or tried to say anything; that sometimes when Parquet would move, Mrs. Victor would look up from the lounge, and when he assured her that Parquet was comfortable, she would lie down again; that at 2 A. M. he was relieved by Mr. Myers, who had gone to bed in an- other room; that he then went down-stairs and 262 THE LIFE STORY OF took some refreshments and went back and lay down on the lounge in Parquet's room; that Mrs. Victor told him that Parquet had fallen and hurt himself some time before, and often complained of a pain in his side; that he had gone to the pantry and eaten a piece of frozen pie, and she thought it had brought on inflammation of the stomach, and that the two, with another disease he had, had caused his death; that Parquet's last words were, “I’m going home.” ANswer: The candor and straightforwardness of Mr. King's testimony must, I think, impress the reader that it was given by a mind not so far bur- dened withimagination but that it could see things a.S they actually occurred. Neither was he able to see chloroform used when there was none in the house. Mr. King could see that the powders were put up in the usual homoeopathic way, and could remember that he administered them in the usual way. His sight was not good enough to see any- thing mysterious in my actions, yet sufficiently good to see that I was worn out by watching, and nearly sick. He could even remember, and tell without embellishment, just what I said about my brother's sickness, and had humanity enough to SARAH M. VICTOR. 263 notice my brother's dying words and keep them in his memory over a year. I cannot refrain from saying that if more wit- messes in court trials were like Mr. King, there would be fewer unjust convictions. TESTIMONY OF J. w THOMAs. J. W. Thomas testified: That he was acquainted with William Parquet; that he met him at one time on a Euclid Avenue street car. At this point Mr. Thomas was asked if he knew what Parquet's business was on that occasion, and Mr. Jones objected. Mr. Palmer explained that he wished to show what Parquet's declarations were in re- gard to his relations with Miss Fenner, and what effect a change in the relations might have had on him. The court sustained the objection. ANswer: Whenever there would be an effort made to show that my brother might have died from any other cause than arsenic administered by my hand, Mr. Jones would object, and Judge Foote would sustain the objection. It will be seen that I was denied the right to refute by circumstances the accusations made through circumstances and circumstances only. 264. THE LIFE STORY OF TESTIMONY OF N. MERRILL. N. Merrill testified: That he had known Mrs. Victor thirty years. Mr. Merrill was then asked if he had the means of knowing Mrs. Victor's gen- eral conduct and demeanor in the treatment of sick persons. Mr. Palmer then explained that as the prosecution had endeavored to show an un- usual assiduity on the part of Mrs. Victor in at- tending on her brother, he wished to show that Mrs. Victor was peculiarly noted for her assiduity in all cases of sickness. Mr. Jones objected and Judge Foote sustained the objection. Mr. Palmer then said, “The court will please give us the benefit of an objection.” The court: “Certainly.” Mr. Palmer: “We offer three or four witnesses on the same point—Mr. Merrill, Mrs. Hunt, Mrs. Weily and Mr. Starkey—to prove the same prop- osition.” ANswer: Mr. Merrill had, as has been shown in previous chapters, known me from childhood. Mrs. Hunt and Mrs. Weily were my neighbors, and Mr. Starkey was rector of Trinity church. Let the reader put himself or herself in my place and then give judgment on the court's ruling in the matter. SARAH M. VICTOR. 265 CHAPTER XIX. J. L. CAssels–Soviet HING of His ANALysis—QUoTED Test- MONY–ANswer—SEE ALL THE FEATURES.–CALLED BY THE DEFENSE—FROM THE REcoRn–RESULTs of the ANALysis— SUMMING IT UP-REGARDING A Motive—Lose CoNscious- NEss—A VERDict Give N–A. FITTING CLIMAx–THE SEN- TENCE OF DEATH-DIFFERENT IDEAS–My Own VIEWS- For ETERNity to Solve–Copy of Asylum Record. TESTIMONY OF J. L. CASSELS, CHEMIST. L. CASSELS testified: That he analyzed • the stomach, heart, liver and spleen of Wil- liam Parquet's body and a portion of the earth around his coffin; that he found a quantity of arsenic in the stomach and a “bare trace” in the liver, but none in any other part of the body nor in the earth; that the amount he found could not have been taken seven or eight days before death without having been taken up by the other organs of the body; that such an amount as he found in the stomach would probably produce death with- in twelve hours; that the symptoms would prob- 266 THE LIFE STORY OF ably first be violent vomiting and pain in the stomach, followed by cramping and green and bloody stools; that some of the tests he used were regarded as infallible, and some more or less fallacious; that by using Marsh's tests he did not get more than one-third of the disks he might have got; that he might have had doubts that what he got from the liver was arsenic if he had not found arsenic in the stomach; that he considered Marsh's test the most reliable of all tests; that the ordinary dose of arsenic was from three to eight grains; that he thought he produced from Parquet's body perhaps two grains; that he only used two-thirds of Parquet's stomach in his an- alysis; that had he analyzed the whole stomach he would have produced three grains; that when through with his analysis, he had arsenic in the form of metallic arsenic, in the form of Scheele's green, and in the form of silver, and that he would bring the products of his analysis into court; that he made the analysis at the instance of Dr. Schenck and Prosecuting Attorney Jones, but had the greater part of the talk with Jones. I quote the following from the record of testi- mony : SARAH M. VICTOR. 267 “Q. State whether or not there was sufficient arsenic found in his system to produce death. Objected to. “Q. What did you find in the stomach “A. I found a considerable quantity—what I should regard as a pretty large quantity; I should think sufficient to produce death. “Q. What are the usual symptoms of arsenical poison? “A. They are exceedingly various. There is, probably, no one symptom which we can say belongs to arsenic poison and no other. “Q. What proportion of what was in the stomach did your treatment bring forth? “A. I should think there must have been—I am merely guessing at it—probably between three and four grains if I had got the whole that was in the stomach, and perhaps more. Had it been my ob- ject to obtain the exact amount in the stomach, I should have done so.” ANswer: As is seen, Professor Cassels testified that he found no arsenic except in the stomach and a bare trace of what he thought was arsenic in the liver; also, that the amount he found could not have been taken seven or eight days before 268 THE LIFE STORY OF death without having been taken up (and conse- quently found in) the other organs. Yet it was claimed that my brother had all the symptoms of arsenical poisoning from the first; and not only that, but, as has been seen by the indictment, that on the twenty-sixth of January, '66, and at sundry times thereafter up to February 4, '67, I had given my brother ten grains of arsenic. If the claim of the prosecution was well founded, and Professor Cassels' testimony to be relied on, can anybody explain what became of the arsenic taken up by the “other organs of the body”? If the quantity found would produce death within twelve, or even twenty-four hours, and the symptoms be violent vomiting and pain in the stomach, why should my brother have vomited with as much violence (which was never great) as he did at any time, and had pain in his stomach a week before he died ? Adding the testimony of Professor Cassels as thus far given, to the claim of the prosecution, the double inference would be gotten that I deliber- ately poisoned my brother with arsenic for a whole week or more, and that I poisoned him by giving him a dose that produced death within SARAH M. VICTOR. 269 twelve hours or thereabouts. I did not do either; but I wish the public to see all the features of the case, as far as possible. Professor Cassels was afterwards called by the defense, and testified as follows: “Q. When you was on the stand before, you stated you had preserved the results of your ex- amination in the matter. Will you produce them if you have them here?” The record of testimony then says: “The witness here produced several glass tubes and a fragment of a plate. There were some metallic disks produced by Marshes tests.” - The testimony then continues: “Q. Besides what is here, what else have you as the results of your examination? “A. That is all I preserved. I got, probably, three times, yes, four times as many more of these metallic disks than I have here, and pieces of plate, but I wanted them for other purposes. “Q. Was that all the results of your examina- tion? “A. There would be, in addition to this, four or five times as many of these disks by the process, Marshes tests. 270 THE LIFE STORY OF these, that would be the situation of things when “Q. That would comprise the whole? “A. All I got from one-fifth of one-third of the stomach. “Q. If you had preserved the results of your process? “A. Some of these results that I have described here I could not preserve, on account of changing them into other chemical combinations. “Q. The last final form which they assumed— when they got through? “A. In that glass tube you will find– “Q. Is this all, with the exception of such a number of additional disks as you speak of had you preserved the additional number of disks like you finished? “A. Yes, sir. There is one of these tests that I used— - “Mr. Palmer: I did not ask you that. That has nothing to do with William Parquet. “A. This is it, with the addition of the disks I spoke of like it. “Q. And what was on this test tube that is broken 2 “Mr. Castle: What preparation is this? SARAH M. VICTOR. 271 - “A. I tested this one, one-third and then I made four different tests. “Q. I only ask you now what you had left when you got through. Is this broken piece of glass a piece of this tube which is broken? “A. Yes sir. “Q. Would this broken piece of tube, added to this tube, make the whole tube before it was broken? “A. Yes sir, unless I have lost some bits; but I presume not.” The direct examination of Professor Cassels by the defense ends here. During the cross-examination by Mr. Jones, Mr. Palmer explained to the court as follows: “When the direct examination of this witness was produced on behalf of the state, he was asked if he had the results of the examination that he testified to. He said that he would bring them in the next day.” Afterwards, Judge Coffinberry said to the court: “We only wanted the professor to bring the re- sults of his examination into court—as much as he had preserved; and we have simply asked if these are the results so far as he has preserved them, and 272 THE LIFE STORY OF if the residue of the results had been preserved, how much the whole would have been.” Upon being asked what part of a grain of arsenic he had there with him, Professor Cassels answered: “I dislike very much to answer that question, be- cause I really don't know.” When asked what proportion he had there, of the three or four grains he had said he found in the body, his answer was: “I beg to be excused. I did not say there was three or four grains in the body. I said there might, probably, be that. You asked me what proportion of what was in the body I have here. I say there is probably, and I say probably (with emphasis), there is one-eighth. I don't know. 1 can't tell.” ANswer: The reader will please notice that in the last question, the prosecutor assumed that Professor Cassels had said he found three or four grains, when in reality he had said that he found and that after correcting “perhaps, two grains; that, Professor Cassels said, “You asked me what proportion of what was in the body, I have here,” when that was not the question that had been asked him, and upon that, proceeds to give a wild SARAH M. VICTOR. 273 guess of something that he admits he “don’t know,” and “can't tell.” By summing up the testimony of Professor Cas- sels, it will be observed that so far as the actual finding of arsenic in my brother's body was con- cerned, the whole substance would be: That he said he found “perhaps two grains; ” that he was able to produce in court only about one-fourth or one-fifth of what he said he got from one-fifth of one-third of the stomach, and that he thought the amount he had in court, which it will be seen by the questioning must have been less than one grain, was, probably, one-eighth of a wildly-guessed-at amount that might have been in my brother's body—and might not. First giving the public the assurance that the condensations of Professor Cassels' testimony are substantially correct and the quotations reliable, nothing having been added but the italicizing of different portions, I ask an unbiased comparison of the latter and a full and fair reading of the whole. Then let the decision be made whether or not a human being should be condemned to death on such testimony. In addition to the testimony herein given, there 274, THE LIFE STORY OF was a great amount of evidence produced to show a motive for committing the crime I was charged with. It was claimed that I had taken real estate of my brother's by virtue of the will made to me, but as the records show that he had none, that did not succeed. As another instance, a Mr. Wilcutt gave some testimony tending to show that I must have been in straitened circumstances, financially, as I had requested him to take back a lot that I had bought from him. The whole facts were not brought out; but the truth was that I had exchanged two lots of which I had doubts of the title, for other lots costing two hundred dollars more, and had paid the difference. In fact, I had not for a number of years known any stringency in money matters; having all I needed and money of my own at call. Mr. Wilcutt's testimony does not, for some reason, appear in the records to which I have access. I see upon reading it, that the record of my own testimony represents me as making several an- swers that I could not, by any possibility, have made. I do not know why such misrepresenta- tions should have occurred, and will offer no opinion in the matter. SARAH M. VICTOR. 275 Having passed through the trial up to the time the prosecution was making its argument, in a state of nervous excitement that may be imagined but cannot be described, when Prosecuting At- torney Jones began to sum up the features of the diabolical farce, which began to take on the ap- pearance of a horrible tragedy for me, I lost all consciousness of myself and everything around me, and never came to a full knowledge of my actual existence until I had been many years an inmate of the Ohio penitentiary, and awoke only to find its grim walls about me, and myself saved from the hangman only by the interposition of a mightier hand than his. I find from the records in the Cleveland court- house, and other sources, that the whole travesty was carried through up to the final act, when a diversion was made and I was sent to the Cleve- land Asylum for the Insane. I see that I was pronounced guilty of murder in the first degree, by “twelve good men and true,” on the twenty- third day of June, 1868; that I was afterwards taken into court, and in a state that warranted unconsciousness of my own peril, had sentence of death passed upon me by Judge Foote, and August 276 THE LIFE STORY OF 20 of the same year fixed as the date for my ex- ecution. Surely the sentence given by Judge Foote was a fitting climax to such inhumanity as had marked the whole trial. By it, less than two months of life was granted to a person convicted on most vague and unreliable circumstantial evidence, and helplessly insane besides. But, the death warrant was duly made out, and I have been told that had it not have been for a “lack of nerve” on the part of the sheriff, I would have been sent into eternity in the unconscious state I was in. I hope, however, that it was the silenced voice of humanity speaking at last from some heart, that prevented my being hanged. In concluding the subject of my brother's death and my arrest and trial for his alleged murder, I will offer a few ideas in regard to the solution of the matter, all of which have been entertained at different times and by different persons, and ask the public to consider them. First—I will give it full prominence—is the idea that I, a sister ten years older than my brother, and the mother of four children, also in comfort- able circumstances, deliberately mixed arsenic SARAH M. VICTOR. 277 with various things and as deliberately gave it to my only brother, stood over him and watched his agony without pity or remorse during a whole week, but constantly and mercilessly administer- ing arsenic—or, taking the other view, gave him a large quantity when he was already in a dying condition, and all for the small sum of two thou- sand dollars. Second: That Mr. Newel, being guilty of a great crime, and from a remark made by me, fear- ing detection at my hands, influenced my sister, Mrs. Gray, through her belief that the life insur- ance was for her benefit as much as mine, to - poison our brother, and having furnished her the means, succeeded in his designs, thereby securing a defense for himself. Third: That Mr. Newel, from fear of exposure of crime, gave my brother a powder represented to be a “love powder,” but really arsenic, for the purpose of throwing suspicion on me; or, with a recklessness born of guilt, played a practical joke on my brother by furnishing him with some nau- seous drug, with the same representation, produc- ing symptoms that well might have baffled any physician not knowing it had been taken, and 278 THE LIFE STORY OF that my brother would not, on account of his despondency and the nature of the case, confess having taken. Fourth: That my brother was taken with dys- entery, as others were in the neighborhood, and never having been strong and his health having been broken by his life in the army, that, with the breaking of an abscess resulting from his fall at Mr. Fenner's, caused his death. To satisfy any desire the reader may have to hear an expression of my own views of the differ- ent ideas mentioned, I give them frankly as follows: The first, I know to be utterly false. In regard to the second I will say that for many years my mind was alternately full of doubt of, and faith in my sister's innocence. But I am glad now to be able to say that the doubt never at any time over- came the faith, and that I never could believe that my sister, even erratic and misled as she was, would have been guilty of such a crime. All that ever led me to doubt my sister was the allegation that a considerable quantity of arsenic had been found in my brother's stomach. As soon as light began to be thrown on the mystery of the alleged SARAH M. VICTOR. 279 finding of arsenic in my brother's body, particu- larly that given by the Honorable Joseph Perkins' letter and contained in Judge Ranney's statement, I began to put all doubt of my sister's innocence aside. I do not now believe that any arsenic other than some infinitesimal quantity that may or may not have been there from my brother's having taken it himself, either as a tonic, knowingly, or mixed with some other drug, ignorantly, was ever found in my brother's body. Hence, I believe my sister perfectly innocent of all crime. Between the third and fourth ideas, my mind stands in doubt. Yet, I feel that either the one or the other is the true solution of my brother's death. Mr. Newel's after course—his undoubted efforts to levy blackmail and throw suspicion on me, incline me towards the third idea; but when I take into consideration the fact that he might have taken the same course as a defense against exposure of former crime, and yet not have been guilty in regard to my brother, I find it impossible to banish the doubt, and so leave the matter for eternity to solve. I have not so much as the slightest recollection of ever having been in the Cleveland asylum, but 280 THE LIFE STORY OF the following, sent to Columbus by request at the time of its date, will speak for itself: CLEVELAND ASYLUM FOR THE INSANE. JAMIN STRONG, M.D., SUPERINTENDENT. ClevelAND, Ohio, May 26th, 1882. Copy of record in the case of Sarah M. Victor. Date of admission, July 20th, 1868. Age at time of admission, 39 years. Duration of attack, 4 weeks. Form of insanity, mania. Date of discharge, November 20th, 1868. Time in the asylum, 4 months. Condition at time of discharge, “unimproved.” Removed to penitentiary by order of governor. I hereby certify that the above is copied from the records of the Cleveland Asylum for Insane. (Signed.) J. STRoNG, M. D., (Seal.) Superintendent C. A. I. SARAH M. VICTOR. 281 CHAPTER XX. JUDGE RANNEY's LETTER–Hon. Joseph PERKINs—QUEER CHEMISTRY-A DEPUTY SHERIFF-A BANK-Book—J. GAs- KILL – Not GUILTY – FROM MRs. GASKILL – ALways THoug HT HE Would–MRS. L. E. FRENcH–SoME CRIME CoMMITTED–AN OFFset – “JUSTICE ''-REMARKs —“DIA- BolicAL EFFORTs”—EMINENT Counsel — A SHE DEVIL– weigned sixty Pounds–Passing sentence—An omission. COPY OF LETTER OF JUDGE RANNEY TO HON. GEORGE L. CONVERSE. CLEvel AND, O., February 12, 1876. Hon. George L. Converse, Columbus: Dear Sir:-I had some knowledge of the prosecution of Mrs. Victor, although I was out of the city during a part of the trial. I had then, and still have doubt of her guilt—the evidence was wholly circumstantial, and many of the circumstances having most weight in producing a conviction, I then thought and still think, might quite as easily have been reconciled with her innocence. The result evidently turned upon an analysis made by an expert long after death, in which evidences of arsenic were sup- posed to be found. Many persons have more faith in the reliability of this kind of evidence than I have; but 282 THE LIFE STORY OF assuming it to have been found, still it was very far from establishing the fact that she had administered it, as there was proof to show the deceased had repeatedly threatened to take his own life, and had long been taking medicine for a private disease, with which arsenic is customarily mixed. In short, while there was enough in the case to raise strong suspicions, I think the whole fell short of that moral certainty of guilt, which ought to be required to sustain so grave a charge. - If she is not now legally imprisoned, and must be remanded to this county for the execution of the death sentence (even if it could now be legally done), I think the moral sense of this com- munity would revolt at such an outcome, and I see no way out of the complication but a pardon. Joseph Perkins, Esqr., of this city, a former member of the board of state charities, has known much more of her for a few years past than I have, and could give valuable information upon the subject. Very truly yours, (Signed.) _R. P. RANNEY. The above letter is filed in the governor's office on the appli- cation of Mrs. Victor for pardon, by permission of Judge R. P. Ranney, the author. (Signed.) GEORGE L. Converse. COPY OF LETTER FROM HON. JOSEPH PERKINS TO GOV. HOADLY. CLEVELAND, O HIo, November 24, 1884. Gov. Hoadly, Columbus, Ohio: Dear Sir:-When the National Bank building (cor. Superior SARAH M. VICTOR. 283. and Water streets) was being built, I was chairman of the building committee, and as such was looking after the work. When the contractor was ready for painting, he brought to the building a large amount of paint (white lead) from I. H. Morley's manufactory. Knowing the amount of adultera- tion in this article, I had a sample taken from the 14. bar. of paint and sent to Dr. J. Lang Cassels, then professor of chemistry in the Cleveland Medical school, for examina- tion and analysis. After a few days he sent me a certificate of analysis of the sample, showing it to contain such an amount of foreign material (barytis) as to condemn the paint. I accordingly directed the paint to be returned to the factory as unsatisfactory. Mr. Morley, on learning the facts, at once came to the building and protested against the decision, saying the paint was good and he could get a certificate from Professor Cassels to that effect. I then took another sample from the same material, which was at once taken to Professor cassels with a request that it be analyzed. Shortly after, I received a certificate from Professor Cassels. of the analysis of the sample, showing it to be good and all right, with scarcely any foreign material. Soon afterwards, when Professor Cassels found he had given different analyses of the paint, he called on me to explain, etc., but he could only say “the first was a mistake,” and he never made any other explanation. Professor Cassels was the chemist in the case of Mrs. Victor. Most respectfully, (Signed.) Jos. PERKINs. 284. THE LIFE STORY OF EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM AN EX-DEPUTY SHERIFF. I knew her intimately through living at the jail. I had no connection with the trial except to serve papers on witnesses. I accompanied Castle to see Mrs. Victor. He had a bank- book of hers and got her to give him an order for the money. An argument he used to her was that if she did not sign it over to him, the authorities would attach it, so she signed it. If there is anything I know that would do her any good, I would willingly give it, for I never believed her guilty. Remaining as ever your friend, J. H. Koeh LER, Allegan, Michigan. EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM J. GASKILL TO REV. I. H. DEBRUIN. Mr. Muncie called for my name to petition. I signed readily, as my opinion was ever that she was not guilty. She had all she needed without taking the life of anyone; besides, she loved her brother, and never seemed to have any malice to- wards any person whatever. Please give her my most hearty sympathy, and hope she may soon be free. Respectfully yours, J. GASKILL. EXTRACT FROM A LETTER WEITTEN BY MRS. S. GASKILL. SEPTEMBER 6, 1887. When her sister Libbie came up to Mrs. Victor's house to SARAH M. VICTOR. 285. select what she wanted, by permission, as she said, of the sheriff, she took a small wagon load, and the next morning came back after the large parlor lamp. I asked her if she was the cause of her sister's being arrested for poisoning her brother. She said she supposed she was, “but oh, how little I knew what would come just by my revengeful words to that mayor!” she said. “Why, did you have a talk with the mayor?” I asked. “Yes, and that's the way it all started.” “You must be a bad person at heart,” I said. “I begin to think so,” she said, “but I was mad because I didn't get any of the insurance money.” I then said, “I would die in the streets before I would take an article of hers, and she in prison for your sayings.” “Dear, dear me! Don’t say anything more. I want to die” (crying and raising her hands). “He probably took the arsenic himself. I always thought he would, and he did.” I then asked her why she did not tell the public so. “Oh, I can't,” she answered; “they would look on me worse than they do now. But one thing I will do; I'll take these things and go to Columbus and do all I can to comfort her.” “Can you ever be a comfort to her P’’ I asked. “Oh, I don't know,” she said, in a low voice, and crying. “Oh, go away, and don't live at all-you are too bad to live,” I said. She went, but not to care for her sister. (Signed.) MRs. S. GASKILL. EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS TO REV. I. H. DEBRUIN FROM MRS. L. E. FRENCEI. This morning found it raining, but stopped long enough for 286 THE LIFE STORY OF me to visit Mr. Perkins and Judge Ranney, with whom I had a very pleasant and sa tisfactory conversation. Mr. P- said, “I do believe the woman is innocent and has been suffering all these years for nothing. I have always doubted if murder was committed at all, and if it was, the diabolical effort to keep her there convinces me that guilt seeks to keep her out of the way.” He said, “I don't think he was murdered, but I do think some crime was committed to hold her there where she can’t be used as evidence.” He said, “You see Judge R., and at any time after to-night I am at home or here in the office ready to see you and make any sug- gestion, or any other aid I can possibly give. I want to do it.” He said, “I watched the case; I read all the evidence and said some things about the rash, unthinking people, in their greed for excitement, taking a case and shouting over its guilt, when a human life was at stake, and all the evidence based on the word of a chemist, and that chemist employed by one side, and one whose life was at the mercy of a howling multitude have no say in the matter.” The foregoing is copied from papers on file in the governor's office at Columbus, Ohio. The following communication being anony- mous, is not given as having great weight, but is published as an offset to one that will be found in my prison life during the administration of Gov- ernor Bishop, and under the caption of the “Teller Letter.” The writer makes some statements in the following that he need not have been afraid to SARAH M. VICTOR. 287 follow by his signature; as his words are corrob- orated by reputable citizens of Cleveland to-day. But he has at least had the honor not to attempt to deceive the public by signing a fictitious name, as is the case with the Teller letter, and frankly says he will not sign his name. ExTRActs FROM A LETTER SIGNED “JUSTICE.” Boston, MAss., July 21st., 1885. MRS. Victor, DEAR MADAM : I chanced to see your published letter. I was a resident of Cleveland at the time of your trouble, and can truly say that you was, without doubt, a tool to be used for blackmail. That Mart Castle . . . . . . . . . . were for years in the blackmailing business. Many a citizen of C. has had to come down with his pile, and they could tell all about it if they would. That Mart Castle was the worst scoundrel that ever went unhung. I knew him well, and can give many a case where he has taken the last cent from some poor widow, under the pretense of be- ing her lawyer. - You was to be the instrument to get money out of Carlton. -- - - - - These men expected, if you were arrested . . . ., that Carlton would come up with his money, . . . . . . . . . The whole matter was an outrage on a poor, defenseless woman, all for money. Not a soul had the courage to come up and put a protest to this manner of proceeding. When I tell you that . . . . . and these other men were living by blackmailing the citizens of Cleveland, I will tell you that it went so far as to have a 288 THE LIFE STORY OF judge on the bench to act with them. This can be proven, for he had to acknowledge it. . . . . . You can depend on one thing; that this was a deep laid plot - - - - - - - - for money, . . . . . . and more the shame for Cleveland people, knowing the men as they did, to stand about with mouths shut, and say not a word in your behalf. . . . . . . . I for one don't believe you guilty, I never did. I believe it was all a damnable plot to get money at the risk of your life, and the day will surely come when it will be shown. You will hear from me, but at present I will not sign my name. JUSTICE. If Justice would come forward and add his whole knowledge of the matter, over his own sig- nature, it would be much easier to overlook the fact that he, too, kept his mouth shut when it was a shame to the people of Cleveland. I quite agree with the writer of the above in regard to the nature of the plot, but I think that the results of the plot went far beyond the control of the plotters, and that some of them would have been glad to have undone their work when it was too late. I feel sure in my own mind that had Mr. Castle's brain been free from the use of liquor, he would have done quite differently than he did in my trial. As a specimen of the “diabolical efforts” to keep SARAH M. VICTOR. 289 me in prison, spoken of in the extracts from the letters of Mrs. French as coming from the Hon. Joseph Perkins, I quote the following from the same paper in which the falsehood in regard to the death of Miss Fenner appeared: The history of Mrs. Victor is substantially as follows: She was the oldest daughter of a small dealer in apples known in this city thirty years ago as Old Pocket, a corruption of the name of Parquette or Parquet. She had a brother William, younger than herself, who had been a soldier in the Twelfth United States Infantry. The entire family were well known to the older inhabitants of the city. She lived for a time not very happily with a bogus insurance agent by the name of Smith, and when this connection terminated assumed the name of Victor. For some years before her arrest she lived in a little house on Webster street, and though her character was pretty well known, she was an active member of a church in the city. Young Victor (?) on his return from the army brought home a small sum of money, which he invested at the advice of Mrs. Victor. He also effected two small insurance policies upon his life in favor of Mrs. Victor. He lived in the house with her, and in February, 1867, was taken ill with pains and violent spasms, suffering great anguish and after several days of distressing illness, died. Mrs. Victor attended constantly upon him, always giving him his medicines, permitting no one else to interfere, and when he died, quietly buried him, without exciting special attention to the case. After his death, a quarrel having ensued between Mrs. Victor and a younger sister named Mrs. Gray as to the obtaining of 290 THE LIFE STORY OF some bounty money due the father of young Parquet, Mrs. Gray let fall before Judge Tilden some remarks which excited strong suspicions that her brother had been foully dealt with. The public became alarmed, the neighbors came forward with damaging evidence, and finally Dr. Schenck, the coroner, had the body of William Parquet disinterred after it had been buried eleven months, and the stomach handed over to Pro- fessor Cassels for chemical examination. Professor Cassels testified that he found large quantities of arsenic in the stom- ach and other organs, and the coroner's jury rendered a ver- dict, after a careful hearing, that William Parquet came to his death by means of poison administered by Sarah M. Victor. The prosecuting attorney, in his opening speech, said that the state could prove, for a motive, that Mrs. Victor had two policies of insurance on her brother's life amounting to thirty- eight hundred dollars; that she tried to get the bounty money due him; that she schemed with his employer to get his wages; that she appropriated after his death all his personal effects; that she resisted his desire to go west; that she claimed to have two or three wills made by him, which was false; that she was in needy circumstances at the time of his death; that she had contracts she must fulfill and could not do so without some extraordinary resources; that shelet no one know that she had received twenty-three hundred dollars on her gambling in- surance policies; that shenever left him a moment hardly during the seven days of his illness, giving him his medicines always her self; always claimed that he could not recover, while no medical man had said the case was serious; refused to send for a physician when Parquet had spasms, vomitings and violent pains; refused to consent to a post-mortem examination and SARAH M. VICTOR. 291. was greatly disturbed lest somebody should disinter the body for examination. A careful analysis of all the testimony taken in the case leads us to the conclusion that Mrs. Victor deliberately, maliciously, and with the most systematic premeditation, murdered her unsuspecting brother. She was defended with great ability by eminent counsel, and Judge Horace Foote, one of the ablest jurists that ever adorned the bench in Ohio, presided at the trial and expressed himself satisfied with the verdict, and sen- tenced Mrs. Victor, after a verdict of guilty from the jury, to be hung. Her sentence was subsequently commuted by the governor to imprisonment for life, so much sympathy being given her on account of her sex. There was no shadow of reason for believing Mrs. Victor insane at the time she com- mitted the crime. Her brother was a mere tool in her hands. She insured his life and brought him to her house in health. He was taken suddenly ill. She watched over him with the tenderest solicitude. She permitted no one to cook any food for him except herself. She administered to him all his medi- cines. She allowed no one to interfere between her and her innocent victim. She held his head in his fearful spasms of pain and vomiting, brought on by the poison she administered. She encouraged him, embraced him, soothed him, gave him, with sleepless devotion, his medicines, and with more than a mother's solicitude hovered over his dying bed, and, with the softness of apparent affection, gave him a world of pity, compassion and sympathy. Yet all this time she was a vampire and harpy; that with cold-blooded calmness and fiendish atrocity measured out to him his sufferings, and calcu- lated to a hair his powers of endurance and the value of his death in money. 292 THE LIFE STORY OF The case needs no exaggeration. A simple recital of the crime, under such circumstances, almost curdles the blood with horror. Here was murder with every aggravating circum- stance. Here was a crime against nature, against woman- hood, heartless, pitiless, remorseless. We find in a careful review of the case nothing to excuse, extenuate or soften the deed. Her guilt was made apparent beyond a reasonable doubt; her trial was fair, impartial and humane; her convic- tion warranted every principle of law. To pardon her is to put a premium on murder, and restore a she-devil to prey again upon society. I find the following in the Cleveland Plain Dealer: On Friday, July 3rd, at 2 P.M., she was carried into the court- room a mere skeleton. When she was arrested she weighed one hundred and thirty pounds, but on the day of her sentence her weight, clothing and all, was sixty pounds. She had in her hand a palm-leaf fan to the handle of which was tied, with a string, a piece of orange-rind, with which she played. With a low voice she sang, “There is rest for the weary, there is rest for you.” The Judge asked if she had anything to say why sentence should not be passed upon her, but she paid no atten- tion to him. Thereupon Judge Foote sentenced her to be hanged by the neck until dead, on August 20, between the hours of 10 A.M., and 1 P.M., adding: “And may God have mercy on you.” I have been told by those present at the time, that Judge Foote omitted the invocation for SARAH M. VICTOR. 293 mercy, and, doubtless, the reporter added it for the sake of appearances. The omission was, prob- ably, the result of perturbation, though, and was of little consequence, as God's mercy was already very apparent in my condition. 294, THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER XXI. No ILL FEELING—Stubborn WILLs–HARD LIFE of Prison OFFICIALs—First THoughts THAT CAME-LookING IN A MIRROR-HALLUcINATION.—THE Soul of KINDNess—BREAK- ING A KNIFE—CREPT UNDER THE BED–GENERAL WALCUTT — Colonel BURR – Colonel INNIs – PARALysis – NEAR DEATH-BUckwheat CAKEs—Would Never DIE THERE —PENITENTIARY WEDDING—ANNIE. McFARLAND–A FIRE IN THE PRISON.—A NURSE’s Devotion. I” telling of my prison life, to be true to the facts I shall have to be personal in many instances, but it will be with no desire to vent hatred or ill- feeling towards anyone ever connected with the in- stitution in which I was incarcerated. I long ago conquered and put out of my mind all bitter and resentful thoughts in connection with those who treated me unkindly during my life in prison, but there are some things existing at times in the Ohio penitentiary, and, I presume, in all prisons, that I think ought not to be passed over silently. So far as I was myself concerned, I was given little cause for complaint, compared with that of SARAH M. VICTOR. 295 all others during the whole time of my imprison- ment. I was so fortunate as to be committed dur- ing the reign of an unusually humane matron, who at the outset established a precedent in my case that was seldom ignored by succeeding officials, and, with one exception, never for any considerable length of time. I was given more freedom and consideration at all times than any other prisoner, without exception, and no one could have been treated with greater courtesy than I was during the later years of my stay there. Yet, my exemp- tion from many of the ills of prison life did not blind me to the often unjust and sometimes cruel treatment of others. That there must be some method by which re- fractory prisoners can be made to submit to the established rules, nobody can understand so well as one who has studied the various misguided and stubborn wills that are found in a prison. But, with the conviction that rigid discipline is neces- sary comes a sense of the necessity that all modes of punishment should first be duly considered, and when adopted, applied to those who have really transgressed, and not to those who have not. Another conviction that will force itself upon 296 THE LIFE STORY OF the mind in such a place, is that the modes of pun- ishment should be graded to the degrees of trans- gression, and so well established as to leave little to the discretion of officials or attendants who may, from inexperience or a natural cruelty of dis- position, abuse the authority given them. No mind, however low by nature or warped by unfavorable circumstances, will submit to injustice patiently; and of all the many instances of resist- ance to authority, of quarrels, fights and beatings of matrons, that I witnessed while in the peniten- tiary, fully one-half had their source in censure or punishment wrongfully given. The position of matron in the women's depart- ment is a hard one to hold long creditably, for when once a matron is overpowered by a prisoner or censured by the warden, she is considered disgraced, and her usefulness—usually her reign also-in the department is over. So, it would seem that great care should be taken to put none but able persons in the place; yet, I have known matrons to practice improprieties, cruelties and petty meannesses that many of the prisoners would scorn to be guilty of The life of a prison official or attendant is full of difficulties and hard at the best, but it would not SARAH M. VICTOR. 297 take an impartial observer long to discover that the life of a prisoner is still harder, and that the removal of burdens from the latter often makes the former less arduous. My own observation and experience have shown me that kindness—not indulgence, but considerate kindness—is the only effectual remedy for lessening the ills of prison life. It has been conceded that reformation should be the object of imprisonment, and no reformation will ever follow anything but kind treatment. The record in the Ohio penitentiary shows that I was received into that institution on my dis- charge from the Cleveland asylum; but I have absolutely no recollection of the occurrence, and but a vague and dream-like remembrance of any- thing that occurred during a space of nearly seven years thereafter. Yet, with the help of recitals and explanations made to me by officials and prisoners since my restoration to reason, I will endeavor to give some glimpses of my life at that time. The first thoughts that came to me after the en- tire blank in my mind were that I had died in Cleveland and come to life in Columbus—or rather, where I was; I did not know that it was Colum- bus—and when new prisoners or other people 298 THE LIFE story of would come to our department, I would ask them if they, too, had died before coming. I could not place myself, but imagined that I was some other person. It seemed to me attimes that I had a dual being, and the first time I looked in a mirror I became much excited, and persisted in the assertion that some other face would constantly intrude between mine and the glass. For a long time I was under the singular hallucination that assoon as I should recover from the ill-defined something that I was conscious of laboring under, my little boy would be restored to me; and when any candy, nuts or any similar thing would be brought to the prison, I would save the portion given to me, and put it away for him. Whenever any of the other prisoners would be locked in the dungeon for misconduct, instructions would be given to keep the knowledge from me; as I would neither eat nor sleep until the matron had interceded for their liberation. The discipline of the prison was very strict at that time, the prisoners not being allowed to speak to each other; but as my mind was in such a feeble state, an exception was made in my case. All were SARAH M. VICTOR. 299. allowed to talk to me, and many times the other women would gather around and get information from each other while ostensibly speaking to me, thus escaping punishment. I must have been very simple and harmless, and my impression is that, with one or two exceptions, everybody was very kind to me. One of the assistant matrons was very unkind in some ways. She used to enjoy irritating me by taking away flowers that were given me, and hiding my dolls, to which I was much attached. I have since learned that those little persecutions were indulged in for the purpose of wounding the principal matron, who was the soul of kindness, and would rather suffer harm herself than have it come to a helpless one in her charge. Mrs. L. V. DeSellem was principal matron at that time, and some idea of the tender oversight that enabled me to live through those dark years of mental weakness and rigid prison rules may be gotten from the following little incident: One day some of the “girls,” as the prisoners are usually called, were given permission to go out in the yard to set out some peach trees, and with the kindness they always showed me, got consent to 300 THE LIFE STORY OF take me with them. They took a large carving knife along with which to trim off branches, and, thinking to do as they did, I took it up, and on striking it into one of the trees, broke a large piece off from the blade. When any accident happens in a prison, the first thought is of punishment; and immediately one of the women said, “Now you'll be put in the dun- geon!” and then told me to throw the knife away. I would not do that, but took up the piece and, like a child, tried to replace it. I can even now vaguely recall the perturbation that came to me when I found that the piece would not adhere to the blade. I was very much frightened, and on going back into the prison I went to my cot and crept under it, which, I have been told, was my custom when in trouble. When the matron heard of the mishap, instead of passing the matter over in the haste and deris- ion that might have been expected, she thought of the poor, weak brain suffering from an un- founded fear, and came and coaxed me out of my retreat, and quieted my mind by telling me she was not sorry the knife had been broken, as she wanted a better one. SARAH M. VICTOR. 301 When Mrs. DeSellem would have occasion to leave the prison or department for some little time, fearing some mishap would befall me if I left my room during her absence, she would put me in my bed and get me to promise not to leave it until her return. So great control did her kind- ness have over me, that I would never break a promise thus made, but would keep my bed even though the time seemed so long that I would cry because she did not come. Her absences were often in my behalf, she even having to go to the board of directors to get permission to allow me sufficient clothing to protect me from danger of death by the change. Each prisoner is allowed a certain amount of clothing, which amount is very limited and simple, and as the winter was at hand when I was sent to Columbus, Mrs. DeSellem felt sure I would never survive it if robbed of my cus- tomary clothing. As before said, she was obliged to go to the board of directors for so simple a privilege, but she went, and succeeded in her mis- sion. I have no well-defined recollection of Mrs. De- Sellem as matron, but her kindness to me after I regained my reason, when she came to me as a 302 THE LIFE STORY OF visitor and friend, and kept up her efforts for my release through long, doubtful years, warrants me in saying that the recitals given me of her pity and tenderness when I was yet more helpless have not been overdrawn. General Walcutt was warden when I was re- ceived at the penitentiary, but I have no memory of him as warden. I knew him as connected with the prison in after years, but of his wardenship I can give no account. Colonel Burr came next, and I find my memory the same blank in regard to him. Yet, I have been told so much of him and his family that I know they have been held in kindly remembrance by all the prisoners of that time. It was Colonel Burr, I believe, who so far civilized the place as to furnish earthen table dishes for the convicts. Colonel G. S. Innis succeeded Colonel Burr, in 1874, and it was under his administration that I came to a full realization that I was a life con- vict in a prison. As I was wakeful of nights, and possessed of great zeal to help the needy, by piecing quilts, etc. (see statement of Mrs. James Taylor), I was per- mitted to sit beside the heater and sew, after the SARAH M. VICTOR. 303 other prisoners had been locked up; and one night as I arose from my chair my right limb seemed suddenly to go through the floor. That is all the sensation that I remember of having, and I must have then lost consciousness; for the “runner,” one who does various duties about the prison, reported, as I was afterwards told, that she saw me rolling on the floor, and thought I was amus- ing myself. I got to my room in some way, and the next morning was vaguely conscious that there was some change in my condition. One morning some little time afterwards, as I was walking across the room, I fell to the floor in- sensible, and one of the prisoners ran to the matron and told her that I had fallen dead. Both matron and prisoners thought that such was the case—or rather, that my life would be of but a few hours' duration—but they all gave me the best of care, and some days afterwards I awoke to conscious- ness, and found that my right side was paralyzed and I could not speak. I could take no solid food, and my condition was such that not the slightest belief that I could recover was entertained by anyone in the prison. Dr. Halderman attended me, and I remember that 304 THE LIFE STORY OF - I thought him very kind. He would try to restore my speech by having me sound on different letters, and did everything possible for me. But, with all the care, I was at last thought to be dying, and I thought the same myself. The clothes in which I was to be dressed after death were all prepared, and the doctors were ready to dissect my body. I expressed a wish to have Dr. Halderman claim the privilege of examining me after death, which I afterwards found had caused my friends much sorrow, as they wanted to get a pardon for me and let me die a freewoman and have a Christian burial. But I did not die. How long I remained in that state, between life and death, I cannot tell, but I remember that a large room was fitted up for my occupancy, and a nurse specially detailed to wait upon me. I know that I was worse and better alternately, that Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. DeSellem and others were with me at times, and that the warden would come to my room himself to make sure that I was properly cared for. But, above all other things, I recall the slow but sure coming of the blighting conscious- ness that I was a convict and among convicts. I will not dwell upon that theme, for even now SARAH M. VICTOR. 305 thoughts of it revive the misery of those days. The reader will not wonder that my recovery was slow. My nurse cooked my meals, and everything that I wanted in the way of food was furnished me. Many times the warden would bring something from his own table, and one day he asked me if I would like some buckwheatcakes. I told him that I would, and he promised to send some the next morning. When breakfast time came, I looked anxiously for the cakes, but none came. Towards evening the warden came to see how I was, as he usually did when any prisoner was sick, and asked how I enjoyed the cakes. I told him that I thought it was too bad of him to fool me so, sup- posing that something had caused him to forget about it. “Didn't you get them?” he asked, and then said, “I brought them to the gate myself. There was a dozen of them, and I knew you would not want so many, so I told them to give some to Johnson.” ' was a female The secret was out. “Johnson' prisoner, notwithstanding the style of mention, and so great had been the craving for a change from prison diet, that the cakes had disappeared before 306 - THE LIFE STORY OF any reached me. The colonel then sent a sack of the flour, that my nurse might make some for me, and many a prisoner got a cake out of it. The physicians, as well as Colonel Innis, were very considerate, and the matron, Miss Earhart, looked after my welfare in a way that will never be forgotten, and for which she has ever since had my deepest gratitude. I was so bad at times, that many would think I could not live, but one day I heard Colonel Innis say that although he had him- self closed my eyes thinking me dead, I would never die in that place; that he believed me innocent, and I would yet be free. It was during Colonel Innis' administration that the great Ohio penitentiary wedding oc- curred. The bride was my nurse, Annie McFar- land. The groom was also a prisoner, and they were engaged before they came, both coming at the same time and under the same length of sen- tence. He had lost some time by misconduct, and unless the warden and board of directors would take off the time lost, he could not leave the prison when she did. So, great effort was made to have that done, and as he promised to do right and be kind to Annie, the directors agreed to release him SARAH M. VICTOR. 307 if he would marry her there in the prison. He was only too glad to do that, and so the warden gave notice that there would be a wedding in the penitentiary. Great excitement prevailed from that time till the wedding occurred. I think some three hun- dred tickets were issued. Members of the legisla- ture and many others from the city attended. A lady in Boston sent the bride a complete bridal outfit, but the prison guards concluded that the bride's dress should be white, and white it was. After the ceremony, in shaking hands with the bride, many gave her money, and when she came to me with her husband to say good-bye, she had about fifty dollars. She was free and happy, and I gave her some quilts and other presents, and wished her success. Annie was an impulsive, kind-hearted girl, and I became very much attached to her while she nursed me. She could not have been more kind to her own mother than she always was to me. I shall never forget an incident—which came near being a calamity—that occurred while she was with me, and which, though it caused me no little trepidation, proved her devotion to me. 308 THE LIFE STORY OF My room was next to a dry-room, and as my door was not locked, we usually kept it open. One night, between ten and eleven o'clock, a line- ful of clothes caught fire from a gas-jet in the dry- room, and seeing the fire, I woke Annie up to give the alarm and put the fire out if she could. I was still utterly helpless from paralysis, and Annie's first thought was to save me, and in saving me from the fire, to give me my liberty. She insisted on taking me up and carrying me down-stairs, and letting the prison burn down; as, she said, there would then be no place to keep me. I cannot help smiling, now, when I think of how much faith she had in her project, and that with so much as a motion of assent from me, she would have undertaken to carry it out. But she obeyed me, and the fire was quenched before it had done much damage. - Poor Annie! I afterwards learned that her hus- band soon deserted her and left her to die alone and uncared for. SARAH M. VICTOR. 309 CHAPTER XXII. PREFERRED HANGING—ExAMINING A BED–Such is Prison Life —HABEAs CoRPUs—HoN. Geo. L. Converse—JUDGE BING- HAM–DEcision REveRSED — CAPTAIN GRoves—Governor ALLEN – “Loose TALK'' – Wom AN AT FREMONT—MRs. HAYEs—“A Wicked Lie"—Mrs. Groves—THE RULE of | SILENce—How It was BrokeN–A MATRON BEATEN-At THE HANDs of A MAN – WARDEN. McWHORTER – Som E. THREATs. URING Colonel Innis' reign, having come to a full sense of the fate that seemed to me worse than death, I sent word to Governor Hayes, who was again in that office, that I would rather be hanged than suffer life imprisonment. He thought I must be insane, and sent two physicians to examine my head. Their coming caused quite a sensation, and no little discomfort to me. When the matron was told by the doctors what they were coming for, she misunderstood the in- formation, and thought they were going to exam- ine my bed. After they had gone, she came to my room greatly irritated, and wanted to know why 310 THE LIFE STORY OF I had complained about my bed, and what was the matter with it. I told her I had made no complaint, and that my bed had not been men- tioned. But, being vexed by having been reported, as she thought, and consequently unreasonable, she treated my word as of no account, and had me removed to a lounge while my bed could be inspected. She afterwards learned her mistake, and as she was very kind usually, and I knew the difficulties of her position, I could overlook her haste; but I did not recover from the shock to mind and body for many days. Such is prison life. The physicians did not find me insane, and soon after, proceedings were commenced to get me released on a writ of habeas corpus, as the fol- lowing, cut from a Columbus paper of that date, will show : Mrs. L. V. DeSellem was matron of the penitentiary when Mrs. Victor was admitted. Mrs. DeSellem, from that date, became deeply interested in Mrs. Victor's case. After a long series of attempts to get Mrs. Victor out of prison, Mrs. DeSellem seems likely to succeed. Harper Fritchey, a young lawyer of this city, has been at work on the case for some time, and is anxious to proceed with it, believing that he has good legal grounds for bringing the woman forth from her SARAH M. VICTOR. 3.11 sentence to solitary confinement, on a writ of habeas corpus on the ground that the law requires that the prisoner shall accept commutation from one sentence to another, and that in Mrs. Victor's case sentence was passed and commutation made without her knowledge, she being insane at the time. A strong effort has been made by Mrs. DeSellem to get Hon. Geo. L. Converse to take hold of the case, and thus secure his well-known legal force in carrying out the work begun by Mr. Fritchey. Mrs. DeSellem succeeded in getting Hon. George L. Converse to act in the matter, as will be seen by the following: The hearing on the habeas corpus in the case of Mrs. Sarah M. Victor was before Judge Bingham in room No. 2 last even- ing at half past seven o'clock. The hour set for trial was seven o'clock, but from a misunderstanding of the time, the court did not open till half an hour later. Mrs. Victor was not brought to the court-room, but by common consent was represented by her attorneys, Hon. George L. Converse and Mr. Harper Fritchey. Attorney-General John M. Little was present as attorney for the state. Warden G. S. Innis and Deputy Warden Dean were also present. Mrs. Victor's attorneys base their claim for the writ upon the fact, as alleged, that the person of Mrs. Sarah M. Victor is forcibly retained, and she is deprived of her liberty illegally by G. S. Innis. They claim, first, there is a lack of compliance with the statute in not furnishing the original papers from the court in which the prisoner was tried and sentenced, and the order of commutation from the gov. ernor, instead of the copies, as they were claimed to be, which 312 THE LIFE STORY OF were filed with the court by Warden Innis. Secondly: Mr. Converse argued that the governor has no power to set aside the verdict of a court and commute a sentence issued thereby, only on condition of the consent and acceptance of the defend- ant. He read passages of the statute bearing upon the sub- ject of reprieves and commutation to substantiate his position. Attorney-General Little had notexamined the papers; wanted time to do so, or to make the necessary amendments, and to secure the requisite testimony as to their correctness. He cited sections of the statute to prove the pardoning power of the governor, and argued that the power of commutation is inci- dental to this power. Mr. Converse argued the injustice and absurdity of vesting power in any one man to annul the sen- tence of a court, and to subject a prisoner to his caprices and whims regardless of the interests or the wishes of the party in custody. After hearing the arguments upon the question, the court adjourned for one week from last night, to consider before ren- dering decision upon it, and to give the attorney-general time to look over the original papers, to perfect those filed with the court, and to secure evidence to prove them exact copies of the originals. The evidence that the attorney-general was able to offer was probably not satisfactory; for the writ of habeas corpus was granted by Judge Bingham, and some difficulties arising thereon will be found in the statement of Mrs. L. V. DeSellem, in another chapter. Judge Bingham held that: SARAH M. VICTOR. 313 “The prisoner never having accepted the com- mutation, she was retained in the penitentiary without warrant of law, but that she was not entitled to be set at liberty, because she was ‘in law an escaped prisoner after conviction.' And thereupon the court ordered that she be discharged from confinement in the penitentiary, and that ‘she be delivered to the sheriff of Cuyahoga county to be further dealt with by the court of common pleas of that county according to law.” “To reverse this judgment a petition in error was filed in the supreme court by the warden of the penitentiary. In delivering the opinion of the supreme court, Chief justice Welch said: ‘The only question involved in the case is whether the pris- oner's acceptance of the commutation is essential to its validity. Or, to state the question more generally, has the governor of Ohio, under our present constitution and laws, power to commute the sentence of a lunatic without her consent? We have no hesitation in answering this question in the affirmative.’ Judgment was reversed, and the prisoner remanded to the warden of the penitentiary.” The proceedings had dragged on until Colonel 314, THE LIFE STORY OF Innis' term had expired, and Captain Groves had taken his place. It was the latter who filed the petition in error, and not Colonel Innis. Before the proceedings above spoken of were commenced, efforts had been made to secure a pardon for me, but the opposition that was shown at Cleveland, aided as it had been by R. B. Hayes, had defeated all attempts in that direction, and without doubt was the cause of the petition in error being filed, whether the warden knew that he was being used as a tool for a murderer and his blackmailing accomplices or not. I have been told that Governor Allen said at one time that he would have pardoned me had my petition been before him. But, my friends had a hidden foe to deal with, who, with the aid of friends who furnished influence and, doubtless, money for printer's ink, was able to summon public opinion against them, and it is not surpris- ing that they should have missed one possible opportunity, if any they did miss. But of R. B. Hayes' course and intentions there can be no doubt. Mrs. M. E. Griffith, then doing temperance work in Ohio, and since organizer of the W. C. T. U. in Kansas, went to him in my SARAH M. VICTOR. 315 behalf, and he told her that if she could bring good evidence from Cleveland, he would look fav- orably on granting a pardon. Mrs. Griffith went to Cleveland and procured a great amount of con- vincing evidence (see statement of M. H. Pettit), but upon returning to Governor Hayes and re- minding him of his encouragement, was told, “Oh, that was loose talk.” Mr. Hayes in some way got, or professed to have got the idea that I was a woman who had once kept a disreputable house in Fremont (consequently I must be guilty of murder, I suppose), and that idea he seemed determined to keep. I tried in every way to get him to convince himself of his error, by coming himself to see me, or sending someone who knew the woman at Fremont. Mr. June, of Fremont, at one time one of the prison directors, told me that he went to Mr. Hayes and told him I was not the woman who had once lived in that city, and that it could be proven; but he said that Mr. Hayes would not be convinced, and only joked insultingly over the matter. I have been told that the now ex-Pres- ident said repeatedly that I should neither be “hung nor pardoned,” if he could prevent it. 316 THE LIFE STORY OF As Mrs. Hayes bore the name of being a just, upright woman, a lady who came to the prison to see me volunteered to go to her, and a letter from the lady says that when she made a certain asser- tion as coming from me, the answer was that it was nothing but a wicked lie, gotten up by me, to shield myself, and that it would be found that that was all any of my stories amounted to. Also, that she (the lady) meant well, but was wonderfully deceived. I do not know in what form the lady gave the assertion, whether correctly or incorrectly, and consequently cannot say whether or not Mrs. Hayes was justified in saying it was a lie; but I know that she was not justified in saying that all my stories were false, if she did say so; and as to being deceived, perhaps some of the statements published herein, and signed by quite as reputable persons as the ex-President's wife, will show what those who have known and watched over me, think. All suspicions of my identity with the woman at Fremont, even allowing that such a thing should have had any influence in a case of alleged murder, and much doubt in many other things could have SARAH M. VICTOR. 317 been done away with by just one visit to the prison. But that one visit was never made, and, consequently, all I can say of Mr. and Mrs. Hayes is that I was innocent, “sick and in prison,” and they did not visit me. As a matter of course, I did not like Captain Groves, but I was not alone in my dislike. Com- ing, as he did, after a warden whose kindness had taken such hold on the prisoners, and being more severe in many ways and a much poorer provider, he was not generally as well liked as Colonel Innis. Before Colonel Innis came into office, the knives had all been taken from the female department, to prevent some refractory prisoners from cutting each other, which they had done, in a terrible man- - ner, at times, but, although Colonel Innis had the same bad prisoners to deal with, he restored the knives, put gas in the rooms—another thing thought dangerous—and did many other things that brought him the respect and gratitude of those under him. The common expression used of and for my Colonel Innis was “God bless him,” part, I believe that I would have been free long before I was, could he have opened those prison - - 3.18 THE LIFE STORY OF - doors for me. He was glad when I was at last freed, signing the papers with others, to see that I was cared for. But the dislike I felt for Captain Groves was more than made up for in the love and respect I had for his wife. Many hours of distracting thoughts of myself and my troubles, she saved me by her company. She would bring me material to work with, and sit by me for hours and keep my mind from dwelling on the injustice that had been done me. After Captain Groves' term expired, he used to come back occasionally and bring his wife with him. I did not like to meet her and not be able to feel right towards her husband, and on thinking the matter over, I came to the conclusion that perhaps some influence that I did not know of had deceived him and given him doubts in regard to the results in case the habeas corpus decision was allowed to stand. I then banished my ill-feeling towards him, and one day, when he was at the prison, I told him I had done so. He took my hand cordially, and complimented me by saying to those with him, “Mrs. Victor hasn't a deceitful hair in her head. She speaks SARAH M. VICTOR. 319 out just what she feels, and you can depend on her.” I never could retain ill-will towards any person, and my mind was much relieved after that inter- view. Capt. Groves was unfortunate enough to choose a matron who thought everything would bend to her will, and the consequence was that the female department was in a state of rebellion a good part of the time that she remained. The matron reestablished the rule of silence on the part of the inmates, and would report a prisoner on the slightest provocation. But her course brought her to grief at last. One of the women was subject to peculiar spells of indisposition, which, though in no way danger- ous, made it necessary to give her more privileges while they lasted than usual. The matron ignored that fact, and threatened to report the woman– or girl, as she was—for an act that could not be avoided. I knew, from a long experience with the girl's disposition, that the matron was only invit- ing her own defeat, by such unjust and senseless actions, but as I did not wish to disobey the rules, I was powerless to avert the trouble that I knew 320 THE LIFE STORY OF was coming. I was partially helpless, having to use a crutch for years after I became able to stand, and all the inmates were very kind to me, and would take any advice I gave them. I knew that if I could speak to the girl, I could show her the folly of resisting the matron, and persuade her to speak to the physician and have him give a special order in her case. But, silence was the order of the time, and it was broken only by the appalling screams of thematron for help. At locking up time, she came flying down the stairs from the floor on which the girl's cell was, her hair hanging down her back, her face con- tused, and shrieking at the top of her voice for somebody to call the deputy warden. The girl had fallen upon her at the cell door, and beaten her terribly. - I do not write this as a justification for the beat- ing of matrons, for sometimes good, kind-hearted women are attacked by inmates; but it must be remembered that a “report” usually means a ter- rible punishment, for a woman, also, and that at the hands of a man, and sometimes a very cruel one, besides. In the case I have spoken of there had not been so much as the slightest provocation SARAH M. VICTOR. 321 for a report, and one little word of kindness, one inquiry as to the girl's needs, on the part of the matron, would have turned the hands that beat her into helps towards lightening her own duties. The girl was, of course, punished, but the matron was discharged. Mr. J. B. McWhorter was the next warden, but he did not serve his term out. He was well liked while he remained, and his wife and family were, also. Matrons came and went at different times so often that I mention some of them only as some incident recalls the actors in it, somewhere about the time of Mr. McWhorter's reign, I remember of there being a matron whose chief threat held over the prisoners was that if any of them sanctioned any charge made against her, she would see that they were never pardoned; claiming, also, that she had great influence with the pardoning power at the time. Such a threat may seem of little importance, but it is one that causes many abuses to exist in a prison, that would otherwise be exposed and done away with. Many prisoners would stoutly maintain that black was white, or white, black, 322 THE LIFE STORY OF as the case might demand, if by doing so they could save themselves so much as a month of bondage, so highly prized is liberty; and with a few such helps an official or attendant may do many things that would not be allowed by those higher in authority, if known to exist. SARAH M. VICTOR. 323 CHAPTER XXIII. WARDEN DYER—THE “HUMMING-BIRD ''-By THE ORDER OF A Wom AN–Rough LY HANDLED–FACTs, No Fiction—Sol- ItARy CoNFiNEMENT—“Suckers”—A Not E – INvestiga- TION.—RELEASED — ONE JUST WOMAN – Gover Nor Bishop –SoME LADIES-TELLER LETTER—“IN CONFIDENCE ''-For Twenty YEARs—BLooD-cuRDLING – LAck Ed Cour.AGE – THE PARDONING Governor—ONLY REGRET-WHEN It is Too LATE. M". B. F. DYER was Mr. McWhorter's suc- cessor. Mr. Dyer was a seemingly kind- hearted man, and Mrs. Dyer was a good, domestic woman, whom none could complain of; but I have cause to remember the matron of that time with some sorrow, more for her, as I now look at the matter, than myself. - - The matron under Mr. Dyer—perhaps I should say over him, for it was sometimes difficult to tell which held the reins of government—was, like one of whom I have previously spoken, very self-willed, and seemed entirely devoid of feeling for the pris- oners. If she wanted a person punished, and the 324. THE LIFE STORY OF warden objected, she would manage to circumvent him, and have the punishment inflicted. One poor girl was sick and could not work, but the matron made no allowance for that, and re- ported her, having her punished with the “hum- ming-bird,” an inhuman mode of punishment then in use, but since abolished. To give the reader an idea of what the girl was subjected to, weak and ill as she was, I give the following description of the ‘‘humming-bird,” taken from a little book on life in the Ohio penitentiary: The offender was placed blindfolded in a small vat of water and a steam pipe suddenly set to blowing off with a most frightening sound. An electric current was then brought to bear on the naked body, and in the awful noise of the escaping steam, the prisoner thought himself being murdered by slow torture. No visitors were allowed to witness this, but the screams for mercy, which could be heard long distances away, told the story of the mental sufferings of the malefactor. I leave the reader to judge what effect such a punishment would have on the sensitive nerves of a woman, when ill, too, but, to my certain knowl- edge, it was received by a woman, and by the order of a woman. I feel that no remark is nec- essary regarding such men as would inflict it. SARAH M. VICTOR. 325 The writer of the little book did not exaggerate, for the screams of that girl rang in my ears for weeks; and when she returned from her punish- ment she told me that she would rather die than suffer it again. Yet, the third day afterwards, she was reported again, and for the offense of asking another pris- oner who was ill, how she felt. The matron was standing behind her when she asked the question, and said, “I’ll tell you how she feels in a few hours.” The girl was still so dazed and weak from her punishment that she did not realize that she was disobeying a rule by speaking to the other pris- oner, and I feared that further torture—certainly of the same kind—would cause her death. So, when the warden came around, I asked him to remit the punishment. He agreed to do so, but when he spoke to the matron about it she became very angry, and, putting him off in some way, had the girl punished—not by the same means, how- ever. Whether the warden knew it or not, I can- not say, but his authority was constantly being set aside by the matron. The day after that occurrence, the matron, 326 THE LIFE STORY OF seemingly to vent her spite still further, had the woman to whom the girl had spoken punished for a slight offense, and the man who punished her handled her so roughly that she was black-and- blue all over her body. These are facts; and I will here assure the public that it is quite unnecessary for a person having seen nearly twenty years of prison life, to resort to fiction. This matron was a great financier, and doubtless saved many dollars for the state; but she was skilled in other things than finance, which I was destined to learn at a cost that nearly amounted to my life. - To subject me to punishment as punishment would have been something that, probably, no officer of the prison would have thought of at- tempting; for the two reasons that my physical condition was not such as to admit of it, and my conduct never merited it. But there was a way found by which spite, or avarice, or inborn cruelty—I have never known what to call it, for the reason that I have never been sure why I was persecuted—could reach me. My sentence as commuted was to solitary con- SARAH M. VICTOR. 327 finement—thanks to the inhumanity and narrow- ness of mind of R. B. Hayes, the governor who commuted it—but its carrying out had been de- cided to be too gross a cruelty, and had never been done. Yet, the sentence stood as at first, and at the time of which I speak, I was, one day, uncer- emoniously and without any charge, or reason given, put into solitary confinement in a small room, with two doors shutting me from all others. It was on the thirtieth day of May, 1879. I did not go outside of that room for five months; yet the warden, Mr. Dyer, would say in answer to the questions of visitors, “Oh, yes; she walks out every day.” I do not know whether the warden was deceived in the matter, or not, but I know that he should not have been. The exercise that the freedom I had before been granted allowed me to get was all that had kept me alive, and none but God know what I suffered in that little room. All writing material, books, and even the visits of the chaplain were denied me. The limit of all cruelty except that of actual mur- der was reached, and death would very soon have followed, had it not been for Mrs. James Taylor, 328 THE LIFE STORY OF who, though deprived of the privilege of ministering to me where I was, never, for a day, deserted my cause. Again and again she went to Governor Bishop, and again and again he gave orders for my release; but the orders were either dishonored or suppressed as often as they were given, and the governor deceived. - On her last visit to him, the governor told Mrs. Taylor that I certainly had been released, as he had given an order that it must be done. She assured him that I had not, and he then concluded to go himself and find out why his order had not been heeded. He did so, and the directors were obliged to make the charge known, if any there was, and give me an opportunity to defend my- self. They came, with the warden and matron, and the following will show the heinousness of all the cause they were able to show for the despi- cable course that had been taken: As I have previously said, all the inmates would take advice from me, and when anything seemed hard to bear, they would, if possible, come to me for counsel. New prisoners always found many things that seemed unbearable, and unless some- one gave them a clear understanding of the rules, | º - - T º - ſ - | | ºſſilſ. M. A\\\\\\ in * T | | | | | | | | - | - º º - º ----- º |: | | º º N - º - - º, º - | º | | | ||| |/|| || || || | W | - - ſº - - - | - - - IN MY CELL. SARAH M. VICTOR. 329 there was sure to be trouble. The matron and assistant-matron, at that time, were constantly at outs, and between the two, it was almost im- possible for a prisoner to understand what was expected of her. In that state of affairs, a girl was sent to the prison, from Fremont, and her nerves were found to be in such a condition that she was thought to be insane. She soon felt like rebelling against the matrons (their conduct was not beyond reproach at times), and came to me and told me that she could hardly control herself at times, but was tempted to strike them. Seeing the condition she was in, I told her that when she had such feelings, she should go and lie down, and wait till she became quiet, when she would be able to see that she would only increase her troubles by resisting a matron. She followed my advice, and got along well for awhile, but the feeling would sometimes return, and as the prison rules, even at their greatest laxity, would not admit of her coming to me at all times, she would write little notes as an outlet to her desire for someone to advise her. The matrons and guards have what are called “suck- 330 THE LIFE STORY OF ers,” in prison parlance, who, being prisoners themselves, find out what is going on between the others and report to the matron or guard, as the case may be. One of these had taken a note from the girl to bring to me, but had, of course, given it to the matron instead. The note read as follows: Dear Auntie :-I know you want I should keep on, but I can't much longer. If I must, bow your head, and if not, shake it. Instead of bringing the note to me and demanding an explanation, the matron had kept it from me, to stand as an excuse for confining me. To make as much of a dreadful mystery of the matter as possible, the girl was reported, and subjected to the “humming-bird” punishment in order to make her confess some horrible plot that never had existed. I had heard the girl's screams while undergoing the punishment, and had heard her say that I had told her nothing except that she must be a good girl, and some day her mother could come to see her; but as I had never seen the note, I knew nothing of what she was being asked to explain. I had appealed to the matron to have her tell me SA R A H M. VICTOR. 331 what I was suspected of, but that had done no good. I had, too, asked one of the directors, and he had informed me that the “whole matter” had “been before the board,” and they had approved of my confinement. But, at last they were all together, thanks to the humanity of Mrs. Taylor, who, by the way, had been cursed in a most blas- phemous manner for her interference, and when I was allowed to tell my own side of the matter, the whole scheme came out. The director who had told me that the facts had been before the board, was exposed—as they had not been—and left the room; in contradiction to the reports that offenses and punishments had been lessened by my confinement, the warden admitted that they had been more than doubled; the matron undertook to show that I had known why I was confined, and failed; and at last it became apparent that the only charge that could be shown was something that I was not only not guilty of myself, at the most, but that I had absolutely no knowledge of In less than an hour, I was released; yet, I had been five months in solitary confinement, and a sick and half insane girl had been subjected to 332 THE LIFE STORY OF inhuman punishment. Such, again, is prison life. I shall never forget the kindness of Mr. Blair, one of the directors, who spoke out justly, saying, “That woman is telling the truth!” And of Mrs. Taylor, what can I say other than that the higher humanity of one just, true woman was more than a match for all that scheming of inferior minds? Efforts for my pardon were revived under Gov- ernor Bishop's administration, but the forces of the desperate were again brought to bear against me. Indeed, I think those very forces had much to do with my solitary confinement. There was much fear that I would be released by Governor Bishop, and the influence of some new allies, who might be discommoded by my liberty, was added to that already existing. Governor Bishop said there was a strong oppo- sition by some ladies, and others in Cleveland, and one of the epistles sent to him was brought to me. I give it in full, as a sample of the matter with which governors have been besieged, in “confidence,” for nearly twenty years past: SARAH M. VICTOR. 333. TELLER LETTER. CLEVELAND, JAN'y 25, 1879. MR. Gov. Bishop. Sir I noticed by the papers that the Case of that notorious Mrs V. is again to be brought up before the court now that you Gov are a kind man and yet a just man, I feel assured that you could not be persuaded to do such an unjust thing as to pardon such a vile and base woman as Mrs V– has been there is no such thing as her being innocent of the terrible deed, for money was her object and this was not all of her crimes, she would have been guilty of three murders, instead of one, had her poison taken effect—She is a dangerous woman and Judge for God sake and the sake of the people keep her where she is sentenced to be and where she justly belongs for she was a devil in carnate—her crimes are unknown to most of the world. she has been guilty of many a states prison crime un- known to the public, and only her most intimate friends knew anything of it—I am witness to some of her terrible crimes for 20 years, she carried on her games under false names, and in disguise many times, but I did not want to say anything about to be summoned to court but feel it my duty, confiden- tially to inform you of the facts so that she or her friends may not deceive you and work upon your good nature, if I was to tell you all I know of this woman it would curdle your blood, and yet it was all cloaked under her being a church member—I wish her no harm. Judge, but for God sake keep her where she belongs yours in confidence (Signed.) F. N. TELLER. Upon the receipt of the foregoing choice bit of information, my friends immediately sent to Cleve- 334 THE LIFE STORY OF land to have the “intimate friend,” who had kept the secret of so many deeds of darkness for twenty years, looked up. But, alas, F. N. Teller (Female News Teller) could not be found. She may not have been passing under her proper cognomen in Cleveland, but she was, probably, one of the “ladies" of whom Governor Bishop had been informed. Whether the really anonymous vile slander had any weight as truth with Governor Bishop, or he feared the curdling effect on his blood should F. N. T. fully unburden herself, I do not know, but he did not grant a pardon. I will say for Governor Bishop, though, that he came to see me, and said that he did not like to leave me there. I was sick and helpless at the time —as who would not have been, from such persecu- tions as I had endured—and he said that unless someone would take and care for me, he could not grant my release. Preparations for my care had not been as fully made at that time as they were afterwards, and there was some reason in his excuse. Yet all the difficulty of my care would have been gladly done away with by my friends, even helpless as I was; and I feel that the real SARAH M. VICTOR. 335 trouble was that Governor Bishop, while known to be a man of great kindliness of disposition, - lacked the courage that goes with true justice. In talking with him, I asked him if he regretted having pardoned so many as he had done while he had been in office. It was then near the end of his term, and he had gained the name of “the pardon- y ing governor.” He answered that his only regret was that he had not pardoned more; and so every good governor will feel when it is too late. 336 THE LIFE STORY OF | | | CHAPTER XXIV. A REIGN of KINDNEss–HUMMING-BIRD BANished—Few PUN- ISHMENTs–St. PAUL's Words—A CARD of THANKs— RESTRICTING THE DIET –Washing—DEMANDING BREAD– FEveR AND THIRst–THE “CUP of Cold WATER’’. THE MATRoN Dies—“I THoug Hºt So"—Governor Foster–BAp MEssenger–StARTING A LIBERTY FUND–REMARKs—He CRIED–THANKS For HELP—ELEctions—WARDEN Peetry —Holidays–First ARREsts—A Gover Nor’s ProMuse. M* NOAH THOMAS next assumed the war- denship, and of him and his wife, and even down to the youngest of their children, nothing ever could be truthfully said except in the highest terms of respect, gratitude and affection. Kindness was the motto of Mr. Thomas' administration, and the conviction that it was no false emblem soon began to force itself on the minds of the prisoners. Mr. Thomas never lost sight of justice under any provocation, and Mrs. Thomas' thoughtfulness and care for the sick won the lasting gratitude of SARAH M. VICTOR. 337 many a suffering heart, and the love and respect of all. The new order of things under Mr. Thomas was for a long time at first a constant surprise, and it never ceased to be appreciated. The “humming- bird” was banished, the dungeons left vacant, and in the whole four years of Mr. Thomas' administration only three women were punished and but one fight occurred in the female depart- ment, that being but a skirmish between some colored girls, over their lovers outside. The kindliness of the parents was reproduced in the children and was shown by them in many ways. They interceded with their father to have him grant the male prisoners permission to talk while at dinner on Sundays. He could not resist their pleading, and when the ban of silence would be taken from the men, their cheers could be heard throughout the prison, and other hearts would rejoice over their relief. - During the second winter of Mr. Thomas' reign, the weather was very cold, the prison insufficiently warmed, and at the beginning, the prisoners were without proper clothing. - I will here say that a prisoner with any consid- 338 THE LIFE STORY OF erable length of term can repeat with truth St. Paul's words, “In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.” But Mr. Thomas was equal to all emergencies arising, and he put the matter of clothing before the board of directors so convincingly that all were soon supplied with warm, comfortable out- fits. To show that prisoners are capable of feeling gratitude, I publish the following card of thanks, remembering how glad everyone was to sign it. It was read before the board of directors, and published in one of the Columbus papers at the time: OHIO PENITENTIARY, December 5, 1882. To the Matrons, Warden and Directors of the Ohio Peniten- tiary: We, the undersigned, feeling that it is our duty and that a most pleasant one, to show our appreciation of the many kind benefits bestowed upon us during the past few weeks in the shape of hoods, wraps and warm clothing, take the only means in our power, and that is to thank you. The matrons for their kind forethought in thinking of our comfort, and the warden and directors for supplying the means of procuring those com- forts. Words are too feeble to express our gratitude, but if a continuance of good behavior and obedience to the rules of SARAH M. VICTOR. 339 this institution will be considered a sufficient reward by you, we will do our best to merit your kindness. - So unto you we render thanks, Also to One on high; As you have earthly comforts given May. He you with heavenly gifts supply. Nellie—, Maggie —, Nellie —, Sadie—, Florence —, Sarah P. —, Angeline —, (Signed.) Mary J. —, Roma —, Sarah M. Victor, Jessie —, Nannie —, Maggie —, Florence—, Mary —, Katie —, Ellen A. Athey, Rose —, Mollie —. Other difficulties arose at times, but the right way out of them was always taken. The matron who at first had charge had been matron at a previous time, and she very unwisely undertook to bring down the wills under her by restricting the diet. It had been a common custom, at times, to use such means, and she was not so very much to be blamed; yet, the prisoners should not suffer for food, and they did not, long, under the new methods. A woman cannot wash for half a day on a piece of bread, particularly when she is already weakened by scant diet, and one day a woman came up from the laundry tired and weak, but des- perate. 340 THE LIFE STORY OF She came up to me and expressed her feelings in the not very choice, but decidedly comprehensive language, “Bread or blood, Mrs. Victor.” I knew that an outbreak could be averted only in one way, and I stepped to the gate of the de- partment and called an under officer of the prison and asked him to speak to the warden. He thought it would be better for the girl to go once more to the matron and ask for a piece of bread, and instructed the girl to tell the matron that he sent her. The girl went, and soon the matron came up in a rage, and told the man that he need not dare to countermand her orders; that the woman should work, and without food, too. Tears came into the officer's eyes, and he said, “Do give the girl enough bread; there's plenty of it.” But the matron said no, and the warden had to be sent for at last. When Mr. Thomas came, he very soon settled the matter by telling the matron that she must furnish all with enough to eat. Afterwards I was taken sick with a fever, and as the matron would not allow the prisoners to have ice, nor even cold water, from a well where it could SARAH M. VICTOR . 34.1 be got by going after it, I suffered greatly until the assistant matron, Miss Houk, God bless her, came to me with a little piece of ice (all she had) not larger than an egg. I shall always think that little piece of ice saved my life. I was burning with fever and half delirious from thirst, and never in all my life in prison did I feel a temptation to commit suicide except on that night. The “cup of cold water”—the little bit of ice, given by a Chris- tian hand–banished the feeling. The matron was taken with the same fever, at the same time, and died from it. I think it was really ill health that caused her irritability, and I know that every hand was reached out to help her the moment she was thought to be in danger. Miss Houk then became matron, and there are few young ladies like her. I shall never forget her kindness to me, not only at the time I have spoken of, but at all times. Occasionally visitors would come to the prison who would say they knew all about me, and thought I ought to be where I was. Miss Houk would never let such things pass with- out saying something in my behalf, and she would sometimes ask if they knew any harm of me them- selves. 342 THE LIFE STORY OF Almost invariably the answer would be, “No, but I've read about her in the papers.” “I thought so,” Miss Houk would say. Governor Foster was in office during Mr. Thomas' wardenship, and had it not have been for the unfaithfulness of a man to whom some papers were entrusted, I do not doubt that I would have been liberated then. As it was understood at the beginning of Governor Foster's administration, that he did not like to grant pardons on old papers—that is, those that had been before former governors—my friends got up a new petition, secured letters from prominent persons, got the sanction of the board of directors and gave all the papers to a man to leave at the governor's office. But the man kept the papers, and we did not know that they had not been taken to Governor Foster until Governor Hoadly had been some weeks in office. The man had a nephew in prison whom he wanted to get a pardon for, and some thought that he did not want to risk turning clemency away from the case. There may have been a different reason for his keeping the papers back, as he got the nephew released, and certainly SARAH M. VICTOR. 34.3 should have delivered the papers afterwards. His treachery will not be forgotten, in any case. When my friends would speak to Governor Fos- ter of my case, he would say, “Bring papers that I can pardon on.” Thinking that he had the papers, but called them unsatisfactory, those making the effort thought he did not mean to grant a pardon. He came to see me, and when I asked him to par- don a woman for whom I felt great sympathy on account of her having a babe, he said, “Mrs. Victor, you are asking me to pardon this woman who has only ten months to serve, and have not asked me for yourself at all.” I told him it was because she had a babe, and the prison rules would oblige her to be separated from it. He pardoned her, and everybody thought it strange that he should grant that, and not re- lease me. But the whole matter was explained when it was too late. Mrs. Foster and her family also visited me, and sent me many acceptable and beautiful presents. I have the photograph of their daughter Annie, still, and prize it highly. At times, after my health became such as to per- 344 THE LIFE STORY OF mit me to work, I had accumulated a few dollars by the sale of articles of fancy-work that I made, the material being furnished me by kind friends, among them being Mrs. James Taylor, for one, who never deserted, nor forgot, nor neglected my cause during some fourteen long years; Mrs. De- Sellem, of whom I can think better than talk, even now; Mrs. Pettit, always conscientious and truly helpful; cheery little Mrs. Thomas and many others. But at one time I gave all I had to a woman who was about to be released, and who promised to repay me, but never did, and another time I gave every dollar to a woman who said she would go to Cleveland and get names to a petition, but who, although she went, did not keep her word. At last, one day, two gentlemen, John M. Wil- cox and L. A. Russell, of Cleveland, came to visit the prison. The matron told them of my work, and asked me to show them some. They asked if I was allowed to sell it, and on being told that I was, they took some collars, tidies, etc., and gave me between three and four dollars. I was delighted. Perhaps that expression seems extravagant to the reader, but perhaps the reader - SARAH M. VICTOR. 34.5 does not know what it is to be in a prison so long as I had been—has not been shut in from the world where a few dollars are earned in a much less number of days, and where one is on an equal standing with all others, if he or she endeavors to be. I can imagine that the person reading this has never known what it was to have the gift of an orange or some simple thing from the outside world entirely unnerve him or her. I have been told that a man from Summit county, Ohio, was pardoned by Governor Allen while I was yet in a state of partial insanity, and that when the men went in to tell him of his release, he threw his prison-cap on the floor, and— cried. Yet he had been in the prison less than nine years; had been a strong man, and had really killed two men—though in defense of his property. I can well understand why he cried. But, to go back, the sum given me by the gen- tlemen spoken of, and given in the way it was— not as a half dollar tossed at me in charity, but with consideration and respect for my feelings, as a price paid for labor, though the sum was large for the work-revived my broken courage, and seemed like a glimpse of liberty. 34.6 THE LIFE STORY OF I had long before learned that even to obtain the truth from those ready to give it, repuired money; and I had learned, also, that no amount of inquiry or intreaty would bring me any help from or knowledge of my own property. So, I thought that with so much for a nucleus, I would again begin to save all I got, and be sure whom I intrusted it to, as well. With that determination I started, that very day, what I called my “liberty fund,” and continued to add to it by working and selling my work. I gave the money to the chap- lain to put in bank for me, as fast as I earned it, and from that fund I paid, in a small part, for the legal work in getting my liberty. So I feel in- debted to those gentlemen, and I express my thanks here. After four years, we were obliged to part with our kind warden and his family, and that was a sad time in the Ohio penitentiary. Those knowing nothing of prison life may won- der that election times should have any interest to the convict, but there are, probably, none, not even the candidates themselves, who feel greater anxiety over a change of administration in state matters than do those in prison bondage. A new SARAH M. VICTOR. 34.7 governor means a new warden and, usually, an almost complete change throughout. If the war- den in office is a good man, the great anxiety is for his side to win; but if he has been unjust and unfeeling, a change is looked at as a chance for betterment, and he gets no sympathy in reality, although the prisoners are usually too wise to make their preferences known. Some wardens do not treat all alike, and then when election time comes, there is trouble among the prisoners. I have known some to come to blows over their respective candidates, and be put in the dungeon for days as a consequence. For myself, I always felt sad over a change of wardens, even when the one officiating was not as perfect as might have been. Knowing the dif- ficulties of the position, and the mistakes and perplexities that must arise from inexperience alone, I always dreaded a change. My greatest hope was always that some good man, of what- ever party, who had been warden before would return; and many a sad, lonely hour I whiled away during the campaign before Mr. Thomas' departure, hoping that if a Republican was elected, 348 THE LIFE STORY OF - Mr. Thomas would remain, and if a Democrat, Colonel Innis would get the place. But there was disappointment and no little unrest in store for us all. We soon found that Mr. Peetry, who had been a member of the board of directors, was to take Mr. Thomas' place. Mr. Peetry had been a hard director, and we said good- bye to Mr. Thomas and his family in great de- spondency and sadness. Yet, we were not quite forsaken—our cloud had a brighter side. As soon as Mr. Peetry began to see things as they really were, his mind seemed to undergo a change, and the result was that he made a very satisfactory warden. While a director, he had said that the prisoners had more privileges than he would allow, if he could have his way, and was very stern in every way; but after he became warden and I went to him in be- half of the other prisoners and myself and asked him if we would be allowed to keep such things as we had, he did not understand what I meant, and when I explained, was surprised that such a ques- tion should be necessary. It had been the custom at times, to take every article of extra clothing, and even pictures of SARAH M. VICTOR. 349. friends, or any little keepsake one might have, away from the prisoners, and such proceedings were little less than persecutions. Many times a warden would allow the inmates to receive from friends or buy and make up for themselves in their leisure time, articles of clothing, which would help them to a better beginning on their release, and the next warden take everything from them, even, as I have said, to their keepsakes. This was always done by the matron, with the warden's approval, but if permission was obtained from the warden at the outset, before some matron had lost her temper and wanted to retaliate, everybody felt safe. Mr. Peetry granted us permission to retain everything we had, and added to that, the matron who came with him, Mrs. Jones, was a good, humane woman, and one of whom I have very grateful remembrance. Mrs. Peetry did not take the interest in the sick that Mrs. Thomas had done, and consequently was not liked as well; but Mr. Peetry ordered my dinner to be brought me from the matron's table, regularly, and so, for myself, I had no cause to complain. Speaking of the food reminds me of the anticipa- 350 THE LIFE STORY OF tion with which holidays are looked foward to in prison. On those days an extra dinner is provided, and permission is given for the inmates to sing and enjoy themselves in other ways. Poor girls' Some of them forget their sorrows and sing and dance, while others are only reminded of home or friends from which they are separated by their own misdeeds or circumstances that bring anything but pleasant thoughts. I wish to say a word in behalf of female prison- ers: In the majority of cases the police-station has led to the penitentiary, and if those who look upon a woman who has been in prison as so much of an outcast as to be deserving of no pity could but hear some of the accounts given of first arrests, they would find that a portion, at least, of their scorn might well be turned in another direction. It is not of myself that I speak, for my first was my last arrest; and no person is safe from such machinations as I have suffered from. But many a young girl has been arrested in some questionable place into which she was forced by the actual necessity for shelter and taken to a jail or police-station only to be subjected to insults SARAH M. VICTOR. 351 and indignities that robbed her of faith in society and deterred her from seeking the aid of respect- able people. I know this to be true, and I cannot leave unspoken the suggestion that it might be well to look into the purity of the prisons them- selves before condemning the prisoner. In all the administrations we were allowed our Sabbath-school and prayer-meetings, and they are among the brightest recollections of my life in prison. Some of the best meetings I ever attended were there. Rev. I. H. DeBruin, the present chap- lain, has held the office before, and understands those to whom he administers better, perhaps, than any other who ever held the position. There were always some good singers among the prisoners, and many times others, from the out- side, were present. One request that was always granted me was for the male choir to come over and sing to us. The poor boys enjoyed the little liberty very much, and would always pray for me, and that I might be delivered from that place. I shall never forget those kind hearts in prison, who, both men and women, would always sing my favorite hymns, and treat me with the great- est deference. Though I may never meet them 352 THE LIFE STORY OF here, I hope to meet them all where no prisons are known. Governor Hoadly, whose incoming brought Mr. Peetry to us as warden, was appealed to in my behalf, but, few of my friends had any faith from the first that he would do me justice, and I soon learned to have as little. I wrote and asked him to come or send someone to the prison, and ask any questions he might wish to, telling him I would answer anything, however unpleasant. He came through one day, when I was too ill to talk with him, and promised to come again. But he evidently did not consider a promise to a pris- oner very binding, for he never came. His son came through the prison one day, and I asked him to remind his father of the promise given me, and tell him that I was looking for him. Still I saw nothing of the governor, and I finally became so disgusted with his conduct that I told those aid- ing me that I would not accept a pardon at his hands, and I really hoped he would not grant my release. Of all the governors who have ever held that office in Ohio, I do not think there were ever so many complaints of discourtesy as there were of SARAH M. VICTOR. 353 Governor Hoadly. The conduct of R. B. Hayes may be seen by some of the statements published herein, and needs no further comment by me; but he kept up an appearance of civility to those who went to him, and who were certainly worthy of consideration and respect from any person, what- ever position chance or circumstances might have placed him in. Gov. Hoadly's administration seemed marked by nothing, so far as he was concerned and I have been able to learn, but a willingness to scoff at the religious belief of others, and disregard the advance that the cause of humanity was making in the face of the opposition of just such men as himself. I said when the efforts were being made, that I did not want a pardon at his hands, and I am glad to be able to say that I am in no way in- debted to him for my release. 354. THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER XXV. “ON New YEAR’s DAY.”—KINDNEss Appreciated—THoughts of A PRISONER—GEMs—SEEING A GHost—JAMEs A. DEAN– PRISON LETTER HEAD – LIBERTIES GRANTED – RULES OF THE FEMALE DEPARTMENT— THE PAROLE LAw— RULES ADOPTED–FORM OF PAROLE – ForM of GUARANTY-DE- GREES OF MURDER – A SEEMING ABSURDITY. —WHY Not GIVE ALL A CHANCE – A Wom AN's REASONING – FROM A PRISONER's LETTER—REMARKs—“God PiTY THE WRETCHED PRISONERs.” HE following rhyme was written by one of the female prisoners to another, and gives a better idea of how the time is passed in prison than, perhaps, could be given in any other way. The writer was a young English woman who, after coming to this country, married a worthless fellow, and falling into bad ways, found herself in the Ohio penitentiary: ON NEW YEAR’s DAY. “You wish me to write you a letter, But I scarce know what to say, So I think I'll tell in a little rhyme How we passed this New Year's day. --- N N § | º \ | = | % - - --~~ - 2 - | º |\| º/// #. - º | - - º º - -- - º - | | | | lº tº *** º º º l | | - * - º * - | SARAH M. VICTOR. 355 We rose at six o'clock, exact, At seven of breakfast we partook, Then to our cells, where with great care Our carpets swept and beds we shook. Each one has a separate task In this mansion to her assigned, And, though she may not like it, Still 'tis best to be resigned. Mrs. —, of medium height, Queenly, and winning of face, Prepared the table—set the plates, And showed each one her place. And at the table all was neat And clean as it could be. When Mrs. — — is at home, A fine housewife you'll see. Well, after chamber work was done, I went to wash, some sew. It did not suit on New Year's day, But then—we had to, you know. Half past eleven, then we watched For the welcome ding-a-ding, And gladly marched to dinner, Ere the bell had ceased to ring. For dinner we had bread and meat Potatoes, celery, cake-Oh, my! Syrup, apples, candy, nuts and raisins, (The last were in the pie.) 356 THE LIFE STORY OF To our “apartments' we then repaired To rest for a little while, And eat the sweetmeats and the nuts— On New Year's we put on style. After a rest, to work again, Until we heard the bell's sweet chime, Calling us to our evening meal– And, be sure we were there on time. Then to our rooms for the night, And, dear friend, what thoughts came then, I would never attempt to tell you By either tongue or pen. For on this should-be gladsome night— The first night of the year— We think of all that might have been, With many a falling tear. But, ere I close this letter, My friend, I'll wish you may, When this year shall be vanished, Spend a better New Year's day.” The writer of the above was rebellious under harsh treatment, but to show that she was capable of appreciating kindness, I quote the following, which was written by her during the reign of Miss Houk and Mrs. Glines as matrons: “Our matrons, kind, with cheerful words, Try to make all things bright: SARAH M. VICTOR. 357 That we may work with willing hands, And try to do the right.” The following extract is taken from some thoughts of one of the prisoners, which were written out in a little book of mine by herself: My Dear Friend:—While sitting, this lonely afternoon, in my room—I mean my cell, or one of the apartments of the female department of the state prison, I can call my mind to nothing here, but wander away many miles outside of the great walls. The great burden on my mind is being deprived of liberty and home. Yet, it is all wrong to be thinking and crying over such things, when I know that the best and greatest friend I have or ever shall have will be with me inside of any great walls. Many of the convicts could not express their thoughts as well as the ones mentioned, but the way in which every scrap of paper containing the thoughts of gifted writers is preserved when it comes to the department, shows that many are able to appreciate much more than some might think. Many such little gems as the following are treasured up and passed around among the inmates, that all may have the benefit of them: “Life's fondest hopes may be shattered, And nothing seem left us but sorrow; 358 THE LIFE STORY OF Wait till the storm-clouds are scattered— 'Twill be all the brighter to-morrow. Wait. Wait, for thy Father best knoweth When thou of reward art deserving. Wait, till his wisdom bestoweth The prize for thy waiting and serving. Wait.” The following, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, is so well understood by prisoners that it was preserved by one: “Laugh, and the world laughs with you, Weep, and you weep alone, - For the brave old earth must borrow its mirth, It has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer, Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes rebound in a joyful sound And shrink from voicing care.” Some of the convicts are very superstitious, and in their imaginations see many strange things, as this clipping, from a Columbus paper, will show: There was quite a furor in the female department of the pen- tentiary early Sunday morning. About three o'clock one of the female convicts made the corridors echo with her shrieks, which called out several others of the female prisoners who were attending one of their number who is sick. The first SARAH M. VICTOR. 359 name of the woman who did the screaming is Kate, and she declared she had seen the ghost of a woman who died at the prison a year since. She said the apparition was standing at the radiator beckoning to her. She has been under treatment for nervous disorder and was finally quieted down. As is the case in all ghost stories, there was no ghost. The fact was that one of the other con- victs stood at a radiator, and when Kate appeared at the door, raised her hand to enjoin silence, sit- ting down as she did so. Kate turned and fled shrieking. Seeing a “ghost” sometimes has a good effect in the department, and saves the matron much trouble for weeks with some of the more troublesome convicts. Among the first matrons that the female depart- ment ever had was a man. Somewhere from '43 to '45 James A, Dean was all the matron there was over the female convicts, though I believe he was called superintendent. Mr. Dean is still in the prison, and has filled different positions there for some forty years, most of the time being deputy-warden. During the fore part of my im- prisonment there used to be many stories told of his cruelty to the convicts, but I doubt that they had much truth for their foundation. But if such 360 THE LIFE STORY OF was the case, Mr. Dean long since learned the use- lessness of such a course, as all intelligent officers do, and for many years no complaint need have been made of him in any way. A number of years ago he joined the church, and some say he has been more kind than before, since that time. His strict honesty is known to all in the prison, and probably no official ever in the Ohio penitentiary had so thorough a knowledge of convicts and the general workings of a prison as has James A. Dean. During the first years of his services in the prison, when the Ohio penitentiary was in its infancy, he was obliged to act in many capacities, and, as I have said, at one time had sole charge of the female prisoners. How he acquitted himself as a matron, I do not know, but I have no doubt he gave those over whom he held the sceptre some salutary lessons in honesty. I publish the following heading, which appears over all stationery used by the convicts, that all may understand the exact rules governing prison correspondence at the present time: Parties corresponding with prisoners will carefully observe the following directions, viz: Write plainly in English, with INK ; confine yourself strictly to family and business matters. SARAH M. VICTOR. 361. In directing letters, write prisoner's name and serial number plainly on envelope. Stamp properly to insure delivery. All letters and papers are examined. No daily papers, food, or wearing apparel will be ad- mitted. Religious books, periodicals and *-*- papers, family photographs, pocket handker- {seAL} chiefs and suspenders admitted. Friends may write as often as they wish. Prisoners can write but once in four weeks, and see friends but once in four weeks. E. G. CoFFIN, Warden. OHIO PENITENTIARY, CoLUMBUs, OHIo. WRITE NAME AND SERIAL NUMBER WRITE FULL ADDRESS OF YOUR HERE. LETTER HERE. Who to. ------------------------------------------ ------ NAME....................................... Postoffice. ------------------------------------------------- CoLUMBUs, O.,.............................. 1887. The blanks are all filled out by the prisoner, so that the number by which he or she is known in the prison will be seen by the correspondent. The following liberties are granted: Prisoners are at liberty to ask explanation from the warden at any suitable opportunity, and may see the managers when- ever they are at the institution, by a written request through 362 THE LIFE STORY OF the regular channel; or they may speak to the managers when on their rounds through the prison. RULES FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF THE FEMALE DEPART- MENT, O. P. Laundry girls are to stay in the sewing-room when not working in laundry, and are not to leave the laundry without permission. Sewing-room girls are not to leave the sewing-room without permission. No talking while at work. Fifteen minutes before meals will be allowed for recreation. Lights in the cells must be out by nine o'clock, P. M., unless granted permission to burn later. No talking allowed after locking up. Girls doing dining-room work and running work are to stay in sewing-room when not busy. - Cells are to be thoroughly cleaned on Saturdays. No going into different cells without permission. Everyone is required to be up and ready for breakfast when second bell rings. All are required to be at the table, unless. excused on account of sickness. No talking at the table. All must be locked and house quiet at eight o'clock in the evening. Matron. APPROVED : - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Warden. SARAH M. VICTOR. 363. IN REGARD TO THE PAROLE LAW. The parole law, which was passed a few years ago, is, I think, one of the best laws ever enacted relating to prisoners, in Ohio, both for prisoners and society; but the clause excluding from its benefits those convicted of certain crimes, etc., could, I feel sure, be stricken out with safety, and in justice ought to be. Section 8 of the act of May 4, 1885, says: That said board of managers shall have power to establish rules and regulations under which any prisoner who is now, or hereafter may be, imprisoned under a sentence other than for murder in the first or second degree, who may have served the minimum term provided by law for the crime for which he was convicted, and who has not previously been convicted of a felony, and served a term in a penal institution, may be allowed to go upon parole outside the buildings and enclosures, but to remain, while on parole, in legal custody and under the control of the board, and subject at any time to be taken back within the enclosure of said institution; and full power to enforce such rules and regulations, and to retake and re-imprison any con- vict so upon parole is hereby conferred upon said board, whose written order, certified to by its secretary, shall be a sufficient warrant for all officers named therein, to authorize such officer to return to actual custody any conditionally released or paroled prisoner, and it is hereby made the duty of all officers to execute said order the same as ordinary criminal process. 364, THE LIFE STORY OF The rules adopted by the board of managers are as follows: Resolved, That in the matter of paroling prisoners, under section one of the act passed by the general assembly of the State of Ohio, May 4, 1885, the board of managers shall be governed by the following rules and regulations: 1st. No prisoner shall be paroled who has not been in the first grade continuously, for a period of, at least, four months. 2nd. No prisoner shall be released on parole until satisfac- tory evidence is furnished the board of managers, in writing, that employment has been secured for such prisoner, from some responsible person, certified to be such by the auditor of the county where such person resides. 3rd. No prisoner shall be paroled until the managers are satisfied that he will conform to the rules and regulations of his parole. 4th. Every paroled prisoner shall be liable to be retaken and again confined within the enclosures of said institution, for any reason that may be satisfactory to the board of managers, and at their sole discretion; and shall remain there until released by law. 5th. It shall require the affirmative vote of, at least, four of the managers to grant a parole. 6th. The parole provided for in said act, shall be in the fol- lowing form, signed by the president and secretary of the board of managers: FORM OF PAROLE. Know A11 Men by These Presents, That the Board of Mana- SARAH M. VICTOR. 365 gers of the Ohio Penitentiary, desiring to test the ability of a prisoner of said institution, to refrain from crime and lead an honorable life, do, by virtue of the authority conferred upon them by law, hereby Parole the said....................... ------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------- and allow him to go on parole outside the buildings and enclosure of said institution, but not outside the State of Ohio, subject, however, to the fol- lowing rules and regulations: 1. He shall proceed at once to the place of employment pro- vided for him, viz:........................................ and there remain, if practicable, for a period of at least six months from this date. 2. In case he finds it desirable to change his employment or residence, he shall first obtain the written consent of the Secre- tary of said Board of Managers. 3. He shall on the first day of each month until his final release, according to law, forward by mail to the Secretary of said Board, a report of himself, stating whether he has been constantly under pay during the last month, and if not, why not, and how much he has earned and how much he has expended, together with a general statement of his surround- ings and prospects. 4. He shall in all respects conduct himself honestly, avoid evil associations, obey the law, and abstain from the use of intoxicating liquors as a beverage. 5. As soon as possible after reaching his destination he shall report to....................................... ..….................. show him this Parole, and at once enter upon the employment provided for him. 6. He shall, while on Parole, remain in the legal custody, and under the control of said Board. 366 THE LIFE STORY OF 7. He shall be liable to be retaken and again confined within the enclosure of said Institution for any reason that shall be satisfactory to the Board of Managers, and at their sole discretion. The management of said Institution has a lively and friendly interest in the subject of this Parole, and he need not fear or hesitate to freely communicate with the Secretary in case he loses his situation, or becomes unable to labor by reason of sickness or otherwise. DESCRIPTION. Name........................................ Crime....................................... Age................... ....................... Date of Sentence....................... Occupation Residence.................................. -------------------------------------------------- Secretary. Following is the form of guaranty given by the person wishing to employ the paroled prisoner: --------------------------- , O., ..................188 To THE BOARD OF MANAGERS OHIO PENITENTIARY, Gentlemen : ..................... I beg to state that in the event ----- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - No............a prisoner in your institution, is deemed by you a suitable person to parole under the provisions SARAH M. VICTOR. 367 of the late law providing for such release, that.......................... will, immediately upon the release of the said............................ employ him at work in the art of..................... ------------------------- which is considered a useful and honorable occupation, and so far as may be in............................... power to do........................ will aid and encourage the said.................................................. to comply with the conditions of his parole, and to become a useful and honorable member of society. ------------------------------------------------------ My P. O. Address is.......................... , County of................ Ohio. County of....................................... Ohio. I certify that the above named........................................ is a responsible, reliable citizen of...................................................... County, Ohio, and................................... entitled to respect and consideration. --------------------------------- Auditor, ..............................County, Ohio. It is seen that those coming under the parole law are put upon their good behavior while yet in the prison, thus making prison government easier, and when released are provided with a place of resi- dence—a shelter from temptation, and society made safe in a great measure by the conditions of the parole. Now, let me ask, why should the ones mentioned be excluded from the benefits of this law, when it is well understood that with a home to go to, the oversight of respectable people and the condition 368 THE LIFE STORY OF of strict temperance over him, a person is no more likely to repeat the crime of murder in the first or second degree than in the third–manslaughter? In either case—when the person is guilty of murder at all, which I have good reasons for knowing is not so in all cases—a human life has been taken; and I fail to see the difference to society between the man who turns suddenly on another, perhaps his friend, in the frenzy of intoxi- cation and plunges a knife into his body, and the one whose mind liquor has warped into a more cunning insanity, which leads him to creep into the shadow and strike a person down. In nearly every case—the exceptions are rare— of murder, the cause is known to be the use of liquor; and those who can, with the help of a home and friends, under the parole law, keep them- selves clear from blight by the liquor traffic, will, with very rare exceptions, never deserve sentence for murder of any degree. And if they forfeit the condition of temperance, they can, and for the good of society should be, immediately returned. Then, the exception of those having previously served a term in prison seems absurd. There are those in the Ohio penitentiary to-day serving a SARAH M. VICTOR. 369 third, and even a fourth term, who, I am as certain as that I am myself free (more certain, for I hardly realize my freedom yet), would strive strenuously, and under many difficulties, to do right, could they be given the help and protection that is stipulated under the parole law. It must be remembered that when those who have served more than one term were first liberated, they were not sent to homes prepared for them, but, both men and women, were put outside the prison gates only to find every man's and woman's hand against them, except, perhaps, some few associates no better and as helpless as themselves. Another thing I wish to say is that if one should undertake to judge of the disposition of a convict by the kind or degree of the crime of which he or she was convicted, many very great mistakes would be made; for very often light offenders, as convicted, are the more unreli- able and dangerous in many ways. Why not give them all the one chance the parole law provides? This may all be looked on as a woman's reason- ing—a convict at that—but it has come from a woman's suffering, and I will not leave it unsaid. A former prisoner in the Ohio penitentiary wrote to his fellow prisoners: 370 THE LIFE STORY OF It is now almost eight years since God and your former warden, Colonel Innis, opened the prison doors for me to pass out. True, I was happy to gain my liberty, but for a short time I scarcely knew what course to pursue to make a living. The writer of that succeeded, but, alas, the short time he speaks of grows into a long time with many, and it is small wonder that so many fail altogether. “God pity the wretched prisoners In their lonely cells this day; Whatever the sins that tripped them, God pity them still, I say. Only a gleam of sunshine, Cleft by the rusty bars; Only a patch of azure, Only a cluster of stars. Only a barren future, To starve their hopes upon, Only stinging memories Of a past that’s better gone. Only scorn from woman, Only hate from man, Only remorse to whisper Of a life that might have been. Once they were little children; Perhaps their untrained feet - Sºº---2 ºz---. - - -- f 5. > -- SVSºº - - - - SARAH M. VICTOR. 3.71 Were led by a gentle mother Towards the ‘golden street.” Therefore, if in life's forest They since have lost their way, For the sake of her who loved them. God pity them still, I say. And you who judge so harshly, Are you sure the stumbling stone That tripped the feet of others May not have bruised your own? Are you sure the sad-faced angel Who writes our errors down Will ascribe to you more honor Than him on whom you frown? If when temptation meet y Oti, You can greet it with a smile, If you can chain pale Passion, And keep your lips from guile, Then bless the hand that crowned you, Remembering as you go It was not your own endeavors That shaped your nature so. Thén pray for the wretched prisoners All over the land to-day, That a Holy hand in pity, Will wipe their sins away.” 372 THE LIFE STORY OF CHAPTER XXVI. AN EVENT FUL CHANGE–A GooD WARDEN AND WIFE—A WISE MATRON.—THE LADIES TAKE Cour.AGE–Not ELATED–OF NewEL–FEARs of DEFEAT—ALL BEFORE THE Governor —NIGHT BEFORE PARDON.—GREAT MENTAL STRAIN–FREE —PACKING UP–A CHRISTMAS TREE-LAST FAREWELLs— OUTSIDE THE WALLs—Some UNREALITY –AT THE HOUSE- Exting at a table. A REPORTER—REST-ABOUT Gov- ERNOR FORAKER—MESSAGEs—FIRST GoING OUT. T last there came another change, and one that was destined to end all the anxieties of bondage—all dreary vigils in suspense and doubts of God's goodness, for me. The fruit of the long years of effort, the realization of the hope that had wavered and faded almost out of sight numberless times, yet had never been taken from me, was almost within my grasp, but I did not know it. When we at last knew that there was to be a change in officials of the prison, I went on in the old routine, making inquiries of visitors and offi- cers as to what kind of a warden we were to have, SARAH M. VICTOR. 373 and hoping that someone would be brought as matron who would, at least partially, fill the place of our kind Mrs. Jones. We were told that a Mr. Coffin, of Springfield, was to take the war- denship, and many were the descriptions and ideas given of him. Some thought he would be entirely too “soft” for the place, but knowing that what was called softness by some was the one thing most needed in a warden, that fear did not trouble 111e. Before Mr. Coffin and his family arrived, every- body had formed an opinion, and we all thought we knew them. But we were surprised and agree- ably disappointed by finding both Mr. Coffin and his wife far better than we had even hoped for. There could hardly be a better warden than Mr. Coffin was up to the time I left the prison, and Mrs. Coffin's kind, motherly ways and words to all brought her a welcome from every heart. Added to the merits of Mr. and Mrs. Coffin, the matron coming with them, Miss Fitzgerald, seemed to understand fully, from the first, that the har- vest depends much on the sower. One of the first things she did was to have the food for the female department prepared in that department and 374, THE LIFE STORY OF place a good cook in charge. The good sense shown in that act is better appreciated in the prison than it can possibly be understood outside. She also allowed everyone enough to eat, and granted many favors and liberties never before enjoyed. Her thoughtfulness for my comfort will never be forgotten. The faith that had almost died out during Gov- ernor Hoadly's reign revived when Governor Foraker took his seat, and my friends determined to try the effect of truth on a man whom they had faith to believe could recognize it when it was placed before him. Attorney L. L. Rankin agreed to undertake any legal work that might be necessary, and to work as the others were doing, without money or hope of remuneration. All the ladies who had grown despondent from the lack of courtesy shown by Governor Hoadly, again took courage, and felt confident that they could get, at least, an impartial hearing of my case. Mrs. Taylor, always steadfast in her efforts for me, always doing the little when the much could not be accomplished, at last began to have a living hope of success. “Mrs. Victor, I feel sure that we have a just SARAH M. VICTOR. 375 man to deal with, and everything at our command shall be placed before him,” said Chaplain De- Bruin, of whom I have said little because I could not recall where to begin, and knew that finding a place that would warrant me in stopping would be still more difficult. It may seem strange that with such helpers I did not feel elated, but I did not. I had suffered too many disappointments; I had been too sorely tried before, to allow any hope to take possession of me, with many chances of having it crushed out in a moment. I had had cause to know the un- scrupulousness of my enemies, and I did not know what might be resorted to. Sometime during Governor Foster's administra- tion, Mr. Newel had died, “very suddenly,” my informant said, and so the people in Cleveland now say, about the time that the newspapers had said there was little doubt of my being pardoned; and after his death, the opposition to my release was perceptibly less. But as the statements of Mr. Jones, who was prosecuting-attorney at the time of my trial, and who seemed never to have dropped the prosecution of my case, had influenced Governor Hoadly, and as the newspapers had 376 THE LIFE STORY OF always shown a willingness to revive old false- hoods and assist anyone, however irresponsible, in concocting new ones, I did not know what effort might be brought to bear, nor what new tale of horror might be manufactured and sent to the governor. But, Governor Foraker had all the voluminous mass of evidence preserved by the prosecution (he did not have all the evidence in the case, for much that should have benefited me does not appear in the records preserved); all the letters of the “Teller” kind, written “in confidence;” all the murderous newspaper accounts of numerous poisonings on my part; full alleged particulars of the lack of wealth and aristocracy of my father and family; and the petitions in my behalf, with the simple facts as far as we could get them. After everything had been put before the gover- nor, I was told that he was giving all a careful study, and soon there came intimations that a pardon would be granted. At first I had little faith that such would be the case, and my friends were too considerate to excite hopes before they were positive; but the belief that I was to be set at liberty became so general among the prisoners, SARAH M. VICTOR. 377 and I heard so little in contradiction, that in spite of all the self-control I could summon, I found my- self “waiting for the verdict” in a way that I had never been conscious of waiting before. As the days passed, the rumor that I would surely be pardoned on Christmas grew more and more current, and all the night before that day, memories of the past, thoughts of the future, doubt, faith and a sense of the awful wrong I had suffered kept me company in rapid alternation. When morning came, I feared that I could not sit up throughout the day. After a little time, one of the guards came to me with orders to take me over to the chapel, but I found that my nerves utterly failed me, and I told him to go back and tell the warden that I could not come. He insisted on carrying me if I could not walk, but finally returned, and soon the warden came over, accom- panied by Dr. Byers of the board of state charities. They had thought I surely could go over to the chapel, but they had not calculated the mental strain I was under. The warden saw my condi- tion, and they went back to conduct the services. After the services in the chapel were concluded, Warden Coffin and Mrs. Coffin, Chaplain DeBruin 378 THE LIFE STORY OF and Mrs. DeBruin, Dr. Byers, Mrs. Pettit, Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Fisher and a host of others came over, and I was called into the main room of the female department. I knew what was coming, but yet could not realize that the hour I had hoped for, prayed and watched for, so many years, had at last come. Everyone had been so considerate that they did not want to say a word definitely until the paper that was to un- lock those iron doors was ready for my hand; but I had begged of Mr. Rankin to give me some idea of the facts, and he had done so. After making an address, prepared by him for the occasion, Dr. Byers presented the pardon, and Chaplain DeBruin invoked a blessing. I was free! The friends all came up and congratulated me, but I could think of nothing but the paper I held in my hand. I was free—those iron bars could no. longer hold me; I could go out into the world again—free! Mr. and Mrs. Coffin wanted me to remain a few days and make fuller preparation for leaving the prison, but Mrs. Taylor had waited too many years for that time, to delay the home-going, to SARAH M. VICTOR. 379, her own house and family, for me, and so, many and willing hands helped to pack up the effects that were called mine. Chaplain DeBruin had ordered a trunk for me, boxes were furnished and I was allowed to take every article that I prized, either as a keepsake or otherwise. The matron could have prevented my taking many little arti- cles that were dear to me, from long association or as gifts from friends, but instead of doing so, she aided me in every way, even giving me money from her own purse to help me on in the outside world. I have had some experience in both giving and receiving charity, and I can say that under some circumstances and from some sources it is not humiliating to receive it. For many years it had been a custom with the prisoners to have a Christmas-tree for my especial benefit, and they had determined that the last Christmas I was to see there should be no excep- tion. So they prepared the tree, and I received many little presents. Thoughts of those small tokens of the kindness of my fellow-sufferers will always be associated in my mind with the one great boon that was granted me on that day. At last we were ready, and the prison carriage 380 THE LIFE STORY OF and wagon were waiting. Then came the last— and the first—parting from the scenes and asso- ciates of over eighteen years. The last look into the cell where I had spent so many days and nights of torture and weary waiting; the farewells to officers and all others who had so kindly watched over me; and the good-byes, with a little, silent prayer, to those who were yet in bondage. Evening had come and the lights outside were burning when friendly hands helped me down and out into the clear, cold, but free air of that Christmas day. At last I was out of the toils of the infamous plotters of twenty years. Almost nineteen years before, when a compara- tively young woman, owning valuable real estate, with plenty of money and expensive and fashion- able clothing, I had been taken from a comfortable home, without warning or just cause; yet, on that Christmas night I stood just outside the walls of a prison that had held me over eighteen years, an old woman—in my sixtieth year, broken and feeble in health, robbed of all my property and a depend- ent on the charity of my friends. And all this for-nothing. Are there any who doubt that assertion? SARAH M. VICTOR. 381 If there are, let me say that I am too near the gates of eternity, and, having many, many friends who accept it without question, have too little of public favor to gain, to make falsehood any tempt- ation. And I thanked God on that night for the one thing left me—innocence of all crime. Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. Coffin and Mrs. Fisher were with me, and some of the prisoners had been allowed to see me into the carriage. The city was all lighted up, and the ride to Mrs. Taylor's seemed to me like some unreality that could not last. But when we arrived at Mrs. Taylor's home— and mine, as she said—I was still more certain that I was in some other world. When I went into the parlor of that house—the first residence I had been in since I left my own, so many years before—my thoughts and feelings were not such as can be written. It was all illuminated to welcome the poor, freed prisoner, and comfort and happiness were all around me. I found it hard to believe I was amidst such surroundings, alive and free. Finally little Edith Rankin, a grand-child of Mrs. Taylor, came to me with her doll, and told me she had a kitten. That sounded like reality, and I offered up a little prayer of thankfulness to God 382 THE LIFE STORY OF and to his earthly servants, Governor Foraker, Attorney Rankin, Mrs. Taylor and all the merciful helpers, for my deliverance. After a time, Mrs. Taylor said we would have tea before I went to my room, which was all prepared for me. “Come, now,” she said, “tea is ready.” Dear friends—which I trust you are—I had not eaten at a table with others in nearly nineteen years, and what was I to do? My meals had always been brought to my cell, as I never ate at the table with the other prisoners. I told Mrs. Taylor I could not go, but she said, “Oh, yes; we must have you with us to-night.” I went, and sitting there in that family circle, listened to the blessing invoked by Mr. Taylor and became more at ease than I had thought possible. I do not know how I conducted in regard to table etiquette, but I acquitted myself sufficiently well not to be relegated to solitary meals. I was soon shown to my room, a large, airy, comfortable apartment that had been thoughtfully given up for me by Mrs. Rankin, Mrs. Taylor's daughter, that I might be near the dining-room and family. - SARAH M. VICTOR. 383 I had not been long in my room, before a news- paper reporter called and asked an interview. I said I would see him, certainly, and Mrs. Taylor brought him in. He could not entirely repress his surprise that I was not quite so hideous and terror-striking as I had been painted, but he was a very gentlemanly young man, and I answered his questions to the best of my ability. Then came rest—rest in a beautiful room in a civilized home, emancipated, out of a living death —FREE. Although the act of Governor Foraker in par- doning me was but one of justice, and one in which he was fully upheld by the circumstances of my conviction as well as the number of years I had been in prison, still, the law left the decision between right and wrong with him, and I had learned long before my release, that to see justice, required an equitable mind. So when I began to realize that I was free, and had been freed by a comparatively young man, I thought—not so much of the governor as of the mother who had so taught her boy that he was able to properly fill the high office he held. The very next day after my restoration to free- 384. THE LIFE STORY OF dom. I was summoned as a witness in the noted tally-sheet forgery case. I did not like that phase of liberty, but court trials seemed to have a part in my life, and I submitted with as good a grace as I could command. I was taken to the court- house, and although the parties interested were, I believe, neither helped nor hindered, I am sure the ride benefited me. Many called to congratulate me, among them being a friend of my childhood. Despatches and letters arrived from every direction. Many of them were from entire strangers, who rejoiced only because the right had at last won. Every message was received with deep gratitude, and I take this means of saying to the senders that their little words of joy were a great balm to a sadly wounded heart. My condition at first did not admit of my going out much, as I would fall down like a child at the least obstruction in my way; but my strength increased rapidly, and after a time I concluded to venture a ride on a street-car. I first went to the governor's office, but did not find him in. I then called on one of the Women's Christian Temperance Union ladies, Mrs. Candee, who had been my friend for years. SARAH M. VICTOR. 385 CHAPTER XXVII. Mrs. DESELLEM SPEAKs—HELPLEss. As A BABE—TRACEs of SUFFERING—For CHRIST's SAKE-ListENING AT THE CELL —WAITING FOR THE VERDIct—DIVINE Assur ANCE—Holding A LEcture – SIMEON's WoRDS REPEATED–WHAT MRs. TAYLOR SAys–DouBTs of GUILT—GENERAL CHARActe R- Istics–NEwspaper Opposition—“WE KNEw BETTER’’— MRs. PETTIT's ExPERIENCE – R. B. HAYEs–MRs. GRIF- FITH's WoRK–HoADLY-WITH TEARFUL EYEs. STATEMENT OF MIRS. L. V. DESELLE.M. I” 1868 I was matron of the female department of the Ohio penitentiary, and when I first heard of Mrs. Victor, I was told that she was a fast, extravagant woman, who, not having as much money as she desired to spend, had got her brother's life insured and then killed him to get the insurance. Of course, I thought the state prison the proper place for her, and I was some- what impatient over the delay in bringing her from the asylum at Cleveland. Finally, one day, word was sent to me in my department that Mrs. Victor had arrived, and 386 THE LIFE STORY OF was being brought over. I opened the outer door and saw two men, the steward and another, bringing a woman who was as helpless as a babe. They sat her down in a chair, and left her with me. She immediately began to show me her dolls and talk to me about them like a child. She had over a dozen, none of them over a finger in length, and some hardly half that, all made out of bits of white muslin or calico. Each had a name, and was tenderly cared for. She had, also, a few calico patches, with which some kind heart had provided her, to give her feeble mind something to act upon. Those comprised all she had except the clothes on her body. She looked up at me with such a sorrowful, piteous face, upon which the traces of suffering were so plainly to be seen that my heart was strangely and irresistibly drawn to her. She seemed to me to be as innocent as she was help- less. - I had been matron a number of years, which had given me some knowledge of prisoners, and I asked myself, “Can this be a wicked woman?” Then there came over me a feeling that a great trust had been put in my hands, whom I should SARAH M. VICTOR. 387 deal as tenderly with as with a child, for Christ's sake. - From that hour, I suffered with her, how much God and myself only know. Public opinion was all against her, and some seemed to think it their duty to add to her sufferings. Her sentence was, as the Honorable George L. Converse said, the quintessence of cruelty; as no man or woman had ever before been sentenced to solitary confinement for life in the Ohio state prison—and that, too, on circumstantial evidence. For some time effort was made to carry out the sentence, but mercy finally prevailed, and the directors, God bless them, allowed me to treat her as the others. When her memory began to return, the last things she had known seemed to be the ones her mind took up. The more fully her mind became restored, the greater was her suffering. I watched and listened with intense anxiety to her words as she talked and implored by the hour. When she was able to walk in her cell, she would pace back and forth, many times all night, thinking the jury was still out. I have gone silently to her cell door at night and sat for hours listening to 388 THE LIFE STORY OF hear if one word savoring of remorse or guilt would be spoken. I wanted to know the truth. But never one word of the kind did I hear, and nothing but kindness for others and agony over their treatment of her. She would call for her brother, whom she seemed to love more as a child than a brother (and I have since learned that she was like a mother to him); then she would call to her sister in the most implor- ing terms to “come away from those wicked men, and tell the truth''-that her sister knew that she loved and cared for their brother. She would have dreadful spells of sickness, when her mind would be gone and she would seem as one dead, for days. At one of those times I was assured in my mind that she would never die in the prison, and although she was several times in the same state afterwards, my faith never failed me. Yet, many times after that, when we met with so many disappointments, I would have been glad to have seen her freed from her sufferings. On April 15, 1870, I left the prison and began working for her release. When she was stricken with paralysis, I was in a distant part of the state; but word was sent me that she was at the SARAH M. VICTOR. 389 point of death, and that if I would come and take her, I could have that privilege. I went at once, and when I arrived at the prison, I found the phy- sician giving a roomful of students, from a college, a lecture over her half dead body. They then concluded that there was a possibility of her living, and they had better keep her. Oh, at the final judgment, there will, I fear, be some governors and doctors who will wish they had been more merciful. I need not go into the details of how the clerk of the prison found there was an error in her papers of commitment, and that she had not had the priv- ileges the law allowed her. Then we began to work for her release on habeas corpus. Her cause was ably plead by Honorable George L. Converse, before Judge Bingham, and Judge Bingham granted an order to have her removed to the county jail. We felt sure that if we could once get her out of the prison, she would never be taken back, but here came a sore disappointment. The female department at the county jail was, at that time, hardly fit for animals, much less, women. Sheriff Horn went to the prison, but when he saw Mrs. Victor, he said he would not 390 THE LIFE STORY OF take so delicate a lady into such a place, as it would cost her her life. I wanted to put in a bed, fix up the windows and make the place as com- fortable as might be, but the decision was against it. So matters remained till the supreme court reversed the decision of Judge Bingham. I visited the governors and laid her case before them repeatedly. I think Governors Foster and Bishop felt inclined towards clemency, but delays and mishaps occurred in furnishing papers to sus- tain them, and they had not the courage to par- don on what they had—or perhaps the right time had not come. I fully believe there is some great purpose to be worked out by this woman's life and great suffering. I found, when she became able, that she must have some employment, and, with others, I furnished her with material for such light work as she was able to do. She displayed great skill and ingenuity in fancy work, and did much of it, as well as that more substantial. If all the work she did while in prison could be put together, few could believe that one pair of hands could have done it in less than a lifetime. When not able to sit up, she would sit in her bed and work, many SARAH M. VICTOR. 391 times the greater part of the night, when she could not sleep. Working with her hands seemed to relieve her over-taxed brain. I am sure she would never have fully regained and retained her reason, had she not been allowed to work. She was furnished a light in her room, to use as she needed it. She suffered greatly when she found she was really in prison. To associate with such as the majority of those about her were, was a great trial, and she never attempted it except to treat everyone kindly. If any were in trouble, she always had some good advice to give, and it was often taken to the benefit of all. She was a natural nurse, and full of sympathy, always had a remedy that was simple and sensible, while the last thing she had would be given with real pleasure to the sick and suffering in body or mind. In appearance and actions, she was always a lady. I never saw an improper act on her part nor heard an improper word from her lips. Then, she was always cheerful and hopeful, under dis- appointments and discouragements that would have utterly crushed an ordinary person. Few made her acquaintance who did not become her 392 THE LIFE STORY OF firm friends, and few have in a whole life-time made as many friends as she did during her life in prison. For a number of years ill health has kept me from Columbus, but I was in the city last winter, and was assured that Mrs. Victor would be free on Christmas. I was obliged to leave before that time, and I felt like saying as did Simeon of old, “Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace,” for thy promise is fulfilled to thy handmaid. L. V. DeSellem. Columbus, O., Sept. 7th, 1887. STATEMENT OF MRS. JAMES TAYLOR. After the women's crusade, I took charge of the Sunday-school in the female department of the Ohio penitentiary, under the direction of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. Previous to that time I had become somewhat acquainted with Mrs. Victor, through visits to the prison, but after I took charge of the Sunday-school and was obliged to make my visits more frequent, going every Sunday, and often through the week, I had a better opportunity to judge of her character. • I watched her actions closely, and the result SARAH M. VICTOR. 393 was that I became more and more interested in her, and began to doubt that a woman showing the kindliness of nature she always did could be guilty of so heinous a crime as was the one of which she was convicted. Her deportment was in no way that of a guilty person. On the contrary, she was always cheerful, patient and kind to other prisoners, and generous to a fault; doing more for the poor and unfortunate than many who had their liberty and ample means. Her busy fingers have covered many pairs of cold little hands and feet, and many dollars have been derived from the sale of her neatly-done fancy-work, at the fairs and bazaars held for the benefit of the different churches and temperance societies of our city. Before she regained her reason, she would, at times, play with dolls, like a child, and at other times imagine some poor family suffering from want, and would be so busy piecing quilts that she could not take time to converse with me. After her reason returned she was very ill for a long time, several times being very near death; but never in all her wanderings of mind did she acknowledge being guilty of any crime. 394. THE LIFE STORY OF About the year of 1873, having been long con- vinced of her entire innocence, I commenced working for her liberty. But I met with many obstacles; the newspapers always being worse than all else. As soon as an effort for a pardon would become public, the papers would seem to rival each other in their efforts to defeat it. Their statements were often contradictory and beyond the belief of any sane person, but the governors would meet us with them, and claim that the un- lawful state in which Mrs. Victor was said to have been living was sufficient to destroy all confi- dence in her. We knew better, and worked on till we succeeded. There were others who worked for her, and whom, I trust, will speak for themselves. MRs. JAMES TAYLOR. Columbus, Ohio, August 17, 1887. STATEMENT OF MRS. M. H. PETTIT. I first became acquainted with Mrs. Sarah M. Victor during the time that Rutherford B. Hayes was serving his second term as governor of Ohio. My sister, Mrs. M. E. Griffith, then engaged in the Women's Christian Temperance Union work SARAH M. VICTOR. 395. in this state, while spending the winter in this city, frequently visited the female department of the Ohio penitentiary to hold religious services with the convicts. Her attention was called to the “life prisoner;” she heard her sad history, and, after many interviews with her, became convinced that she was innocent of the crime of which she was convicted. Thus impressed, my sister called upon Governor Hayes, presented the case and appealed to him to pardon the prisoner. The governor received her kindly, and encouraged her to go to Cleveland (which she proposed to do) and investigate the case. Mrs. Griffith accordingly went to Cleveland, secured the assistance of our brother-in-law, S. B. Marshall, of Detroit street, and spent two weeks, in that time interviewing Judges Ranney and Cof- finberry, Attorney Adams and others; also, many of Mrs. Victor's former neighbors, all of whom seemed willing to give testimony in favor of Mrs. Victor, with one exception—Judge Foote, who pronounced the sentence of death upon the pris- oner, closed the door in the face of Mr. Marshall as soon as Mrs. Victor's name was mentioned, thus declining to give any information regarding her. 396 THE LIFE STORY OF Having written down the testimony thus se- cured, and having the names of the more impor- tant witnesses attached by their own hands, Mrs. Griffith returned to Columbus and submitted the information obtained to two prominentattorneys, who said it was testimony that would stand in any court. Then, with confident hope of favorable action by the governor, accompanied by myself she went to him and presented the testimony. He treated us courteously, but listened partly in silence, with contracted brows and compressed lips, which indicated a resolution already formed not to grant the pardon. “You must confess, governor, that this is very strong evidence,” said Mrs. Griffith. “Yes, it is,” he replied, “but I have letters on the other side, and I cannot pardon Mrs. Victor.” Mrs. Griffith's car fare to Cleveland and return was paid by Mrs. DeSellem, a former matron of the penitentiary, who so fully believed in Mrs. Victor's innocence that she cheerfully made that and many other sacrifices for the purpose of securing the coveted pardon. After this, Mrs. Griffith was still a sympa- SARAH M. VICTOR. - 397 thizing friend of Mrs. Victor's and sadly grieved that her efforts had been unavailing; but she removed to a distant state, and I remaining, occasionally visited the prisoner, always hoping for her release from a bondage that seemed so unjust, and watching her words very carefully in each interview. I sought to find from her own words and actions convincing evidence of either innocence or guilt. On more than one occasion, she assured me that her faith and trust in God were so strong that if she would becompelled to relinquish them in order to obtain her freedom, she would tell the governor to “keep the pardon,” and leave her in possession of her faith and trust in God. One day when I entered her room, from the “out- side,” she found a little “lady-bug” that had clung to my garments as I passed through the yard to the prison. The poor woman caught the bug with exclamations of delight, and fondly caressed it in her emaciated hands, saying it had been “so long since she had seen one!” That was a lesson to me, and I said, mentally, ‘How little we who have the precious boon of lib- 398 - THE LIFE STORY OF erty appreciate the beauties of Nature, and the familiar favors of God!” I cannot remember ever to have heard Mrs. Victor speak harshly or unkindly of even her bitterest enemies, and she seemed too refined and gentle, and of too benevolent a nature, ever to have thought of committing such a deed as she was supposed to have done. I was impressed with this, and also with the fact that so many Christian women were seeking for her release and remarkably led to intercede for her as though hers was not an ordinary case of actual crime. And when I went to the Throne of Grace earnestly beseeching to know what I should do for her, and … . whether she was guilty or not, the answer “not guilty” seemed distinctly written before me, and thus energized, I felt that I must continue every effort within my power to have justice meted out to her. Near the close of Governor Hoadly's adminis- tration, accompanied by my dear friend Esther Pugh, treasurer of the World's Women's Christian Temperance Union, I called upon him and appealed to him in Mrs. Victor's behalf, pleadingly asking him to do something for her. SARAH M. VICTOR. 399 Governor Hoadly's quick reply was, “I have recently had a personal interview with Judge Jones, and am convinced of her guilt, and believe she should remain where she is. If you desire any- thing for Mrs. Victor, you must look to my suc- cessor, Judge Foraker.” Thus peremptorily dismissed, we sadly turned away to await opportunity for a more humane hearing, which, I am happy to say, was granted cy in the near future. A few months after Governor Foraker's inaugu- ration I was again urged to use what influence I might have in behalf of this poor woman for whom for so many years we had been working and praying, praying and working. Accordingly, in company with W. G. Hubbard, a minister of this city, I called at the office and made our re- quests known to Governor Foraker, who kindly assured us that he would give the subject his early attention. He did so, and the result is 1-（~~~~ -ſa， ºr-- （= ----2^avraeſeſ|-|- -• • • • • • ---- MY HOME AT MR. GRAY’S. |- |- SARAH M. VICTOR. 4.29. other thoughts. When I arrived in Cleveland, I took a carriage for Mr. Gray's. As the driver drew up before a house of less humble appear- ance than I thought Mr. Gray, being a laboring man, would be likely to occupy, I asked him if that was the place. “Yes, this is the place, and I am so glad you are here!” said a voice that was strange to me, but very cordial, and Mrs. Gray came out to meet 111e. - I received a similar welcome from Mr. Gray, and at once felt very much at home with them. “We are young and can take care of you, if you can be contented with us,” they both said. I accepted the offer, hoping that I might be able to repay them in a measure, but knowing that no money could ever fully repay the kindness of such hearts. I soon began to look after my property. Mr. Carlton refused to return the life lease, but offered to give me a few hundred dollars. I had no money with which to fee counsel, but one of Cleve- land's ablest attorneys, W. S. Kerruish, agreed to take the case without, and I commenced proceed- ings to recover the life lease. Up to the present 4.30 THE LIFE STORY OF time, the case has not been called, but I have faith that justice will be done. Through some friends I was introduced to the lady who does the writing of this book for me, and who, like all the others, has worked without money. Finding so many kind hearts willing to assist me, I concluded to make Cleveland my home. I then returned to Columbus, told my friends of my intentions, visited the prison and came back to this city and to my work. Now, at the last, what can I say of all those who, together and under God, have held me back from death, driven away the demon of madness, and whose humanity has outrun the barbarism of my persecutors and enabled me to see this day same and free? What can I say of Mrs. L. V. DeSellem, who, with sightcleared by God's love, could seeinnocence through a dense cloud of prejudice, and seeing a duty, did it under difficulties that few can imagine? What words can I use that will express the unswerving humanity of Mrs. James Taylor, who accepted all rebuffs and discourtesies of officials high or low at their proper value, and kept on at her work of mercy, denying herself sARAH M. victor. 431 time for many of the enjoyments that her position afforded ? What more could be said of Rev. I. H. DeBruin than that his sermons are as often deeds of kind- ness as words of comfort and instruction P Hun- dreds of prisoners—and they are the ones who know—can testify to the kindness of just wardens, matrons and guards, and also of their fellow- prisoners. The public does not need to be told of that sisterhood of mercy, the women's Christian Temperance Union, and I could give no adequate account of the deeds or number of its members who have come to me with help and words of cheer. Their names alone would fill too many pages. But, to those who have aided me and to all others, I can say with truth that I have never been guilty of any greater iniquity than I have pro- claimed in this book; and to such dear friends as shall be left behind when I am called to pass into the future life, I wish to say that I have faith to believe I shall watch for their coming amid happier surroundings than of old, and to those going before me, that I trust they will watch for mine. THE END. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - | （（ ）） // √∞ √° √ / º º º |- ſº º º / ſº // / / // Ø ^. - / N // ºſ / / / / ſ ſº º/ // º V º - N ºn- º * ſ ) N. - º // s º º V N// º º V Nº. º N. º º N º º ſº // / º º Sº, // ^ 7 VN º . V º - º ſº N º ſº | N// N N º º º º º º º º º - Nº. 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