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The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Twin Hells

J >> John N. Reynolds >> The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Twin Hells




Bad books are our worst companions. I have narrated the history of
this young murderer, and now urge my boy readers to let yellow back
literature alone. It wrecked the future of this youth, and what it did
for one it may do for another.


A YOUTHFUL MURDERER

Willie Sells.--In the prison, this convict is called the "baby
convict." When he came to the penitentiary in 1886, he was but sixteen
years of age, and in appearance much younger. One of the most
sickening murders committed in Kansas is charged to the account of
this boy. His home is in Neosho County. His father, a prosperous
farmer, lived happily with his wife and three children. Willie was the
oldest of the children. Early one morning he rushed from his home and
made his way to the nearest neighbor, about half a mile distant, and
with his face and hands covered with blood conveyed the startling
intelligence that the entire family had been murdered, and he only had
escaped. Soon an excited crowd of neighbors gathered at the home of
the murdered victims, and the sight that was presented has but few
parallels in the fatal and fearful results of crime. The victims had
been murdered while asleep. In one room lay the father and mother of
the youthful murderer, on their bed of death. Their heads had been
split open with an axe that lay nearby, and the blood of one mingled
with that of the other. In an adjoining bed-room, covered with their
own life's blood, were found the little brother and sister. They had
been foully murdered with the same instrument that had caused the
death of the parents. Who was the monster that had committed this
terrible and atrocious act? A search of the premises disclosed the
fact that robbery was not the motive. No property was missing. The
survivor was questioned again and again. He said that a burly-looking
tramp had effected an entrance into the house through a window during
the night; that he being awake at the moment, and becoming alarmed,
hid himself, and, unperceived, beheld his father and mother, his
brother and sister, thus foully murdered. A thorough and extensive
search was made, but no clue could be obtained that would warrant the
arrest of any one.

Finally, the surviving child was taken into custody. It was claimed
that his statements of the circumstances connected with the crime
varied, and in several instances were contradictory. The evidence
introduced at his trial was purely circumstantial. After much
deliberation and hesitancy, the jury decided on a verdict of guilty of
murder in the first degree, and this child criminal was sentenced to
imprisonment for life.

He conducts himself well in the prison. On account of his extreme
youth he is given a great deal of liberty. It is with great reluctance
that he talks about his crime, and longs for freedom.

Is this boy guilty? This question has never been satisfactorily
answered in the affirmative. I am informed there was a grave doubt in
the mind of the judge who tried the case and imposed the sentence as
to the guilt of this alleged youthful offender. A chill of horror
creeps over us as we think of the members of this family weltering in
each other's blood. Should he be innocent, it would be awful for this
boy to remain in the Kansas Hell for a lifetime.


A MOST REMARKABLE CASE

William Baldwin furnishes the history of one of the most remarkable
cases in the criminal annals of Kansas. He was charged with the
atrocious crime of murdering his own sister. William and his sister
were the only children of a widowed but wealthy mother. It is claimed
that the son had received his portion of the estate prior to this sad
occurrence, and that by taking the life of his sister he would become
the sole heir of the Baldwin estate, which was supposed to be very
large. Mary, the beautiful and accomplished sister was discovered dead
one morning lying upon her bed in her chamber with a chloroform bottle
at her side. A panel of the outside door of the house was found
removed. Immediately upon the discovery of the murder it was supposed
that the house had been burglarized, and that the thief had committed
the murder. Upon an examination of the premises by the proper
officials it was found that nothing had been taken from the house. In
looking for a motive that would prompt a person to commit such a
fiendish act, and it being known that William Baldwin, the brother,
would be the sole heir in case of the death of his sister, he was at
once suspected of having committed the crime. His arrest was prompt
and immediate. He was bound over on preliminary examination, and in
due course of time had his trial and was convicted. He was sentenced
to the penitentiary for one year, at the expiration of which he was to
be hung until dead. His case was taken on appeal to the Supreme Court
of the State. Baldwin, in the meantime, was removed to the
penitentiary. Here he was placed in the tailor shop, where he has
remained since. He is a very obedient prisoner, and is highly esteemed
by the prison officials. The judgment in his case upon hearing in the
Supreme Court of the State was affirmed. From the Supreme Court of
Kansas his case was taken by appeal to the Supreme Court of the United
States; in this highest tribunal, the judgments of the lower courts
were affirmed, and the fate of William Baldwin is forever sealed so
far as the judiciary of the country is concerned. If he is permitted
again to inhale the air of freedom, it must be through the clemency of
the pardoning board and of the governor of Kansas. During one hundred
and ten years of American jurisprudence, there had been only two
similar cases taken to the Supreme Court of the United States. But a
few days before my release I was talking with Billy Baldwin in the
penitentiary, and he seemed to be very hopeful that after a time he
would secure his pardon.

His wife is one of the most highly respected ladies of Atchison; is
true, faithful and devoted to her husband. She has enlisted the
sympathies of the entire community in her behalf, because of her youth
and great bereavement. His aged mother, who has been called upon to
wade through deep waters of affliction because of the great calamity
that has befallen her son and daughter, will also exert great
influence in getting signers to a petition for his pardon.

The question has often been asked me, because of my intimate relation
with Baldwin in the penitentiary, whether I believed that he is
guilty. I can answer as to my own belief. I have watched him carefully
as I have the other fifty-five lifetime convicts, and I am free to say
that I do not believe that William Baldwin ever committed the crime of
killing his sister for the malicious desire of obtaining filthy lucre,
or the estate of his sister. He does not conduct himself as scores of
other criminals who have confessed their guilt. In conversation with
him, while I was "in stripes," he has time and again told me, with
tears rolling down his cheeks, that he was innocent of the terrible
crime of which he stands accused, and that there was no brother had
greater love for his sister than he, and that he had such faith in an
overruling Providence that eventually he would be exonerated from the
crime; and that the real perpetrator would be made known. If he is
innocent and it should ever be clearly proven, his will be one of the
saddest and most mysterious events ever recorded. There is beyond
doubt an unsolved mystery hanging over this remarkable case.



CHAPTER IX

FORTY-EIGHT HOURS IN HELL

One of the most interesting cases of resuscitation that ever came to
my knowledge was that of George Lennox, a notorious horse-thief of
Jefferson County. He was serving his second term. Sedgwick County sent
him to the prison, the first time for a similar offense--stealing
horses.

During the winter of 1887 and 1888, he worked in the coal mines. The
place where he was laboring seemed dangerous to him. He reported the
fact to the officer in charge, who made an examination, and deciding
that the room was safe, ordered Lennox back to his work. The convict,
obeying, had not continued his work more than an hour, when the roof
fell in and completely buried him. He remained in this condition fully
two hours. Missed at dinner-time, a search was instituted for the
absent convict, and he was found under this heap of rubbish. Life
seemed extinct. He was taken to the top, and on examination by the
prison physician was pronounced dead. His remains were carried to the
hospital, where he was washed and dressed preparatory for interment.
His coffin was made and brought into the hospital. The chaplain had
arrived to perform the last sad rites prior to burial. A couple of
prisoners were ordered by the hospital steward to lift the corpse from
the boards and carry it across the room and place it in the coffin.
They obeyed, one at the head and the other at the feet, and were about
half way across the room when the one who was at the head accidentally
stumbled over a cuspidor, lost his balance, and dropped the corpse.
The head of the dead man struck the floor, and to the utter surprise
and astonishment of all present, a deep groan was heard. Soon the eyes
opened, and other appearances of life were manifested. The physician
was immediately sent for, and by the time he arrived, some thirty
minutes, the dead man had called for a cup of water, and was in the
act of drinking when the physician arrived. The coffin was at once
removed, and later on was used to bury another convict in. His burial
robes were also taken from him, and the prison garb substituted. On an
examination he was found to have one of his legs broken in two places,
and was otherwise bruised. He remained in the hospital some six
months, and again went to work. I learned of his peculiar experience
while apparently dead, soon after, from a fellow miner. Prompted by
curiousity, I longed for an acquaintance with Lennox to get his
experience from his own lips. This opportunity was not offered for
several months. At last it came. After being removed from the mines I
was detailed to one of the prison offices to make out some annual
reports. The subject of this man's return to life was being discussed
one day, when he happened to pass by the office door and was pointed
out to me. It was not long until I had a note in his hand, and asked
him to come where I was at work. He did so, and here I got well
acquainted with him, and from his own lips received his wonderful
story. He is a young man, probably not over thirty years of age. He is
not a hardened criminal; is possessed of a very good education, and
naturally very bright.

The most wonderful part of his history was that during the time he was
dead. Being a short-hand reporter I took his story from his dictation.
Said he: "I had a presentiment all the morning that something terrible
was going to happen. I was so uneasy on account of my feelings that I
went to my mining boss, Mr. Grason, and told him how I felt, and asked
him if he would not come and examine my 'coal room,' the place where I
was digging coal. He came, and seemed to make a thorough examination,
and ordered me back to work, saying, there was no danger, and that he
thought I was going 'cranky.' I returned to my work, and had been
digging away for something like an hour, when, all of a sudden, it
grew very dark. Then it seemed as if a great iron door swung open, and
I passed through it. The thought then came to my mind that I was dead
and in another world. I could see no one, nor hear sound of any kind.
From some cause unknown to myself, I started to move away from the
doorway, and had traveled some distance when I came to the banks of a
broad river. It was not dark, neither was it light. There was about as
much light as on a bright star-lit night. I had not remained on the
bank of this river very long until I could hear the sound of oars in
the water, and soon a person in a boat rowed up to where I was
standing. I was speechless. He looked at me for a moment, and then
said that he had come for me, and told me to get into the boat and row
across to the other side. I obeyed. Not a word was spoken. I longed to
ask him who he was, and where I was. My tongue seemed to cling to the
roof of my mouth. I could not say a word. Finally, we reached the
opposite shore. I got out of the boat, and the boatman vanished out of
sight. Thus left alone, I knew not what to do. Looking out before me,
I saw two roads which led through a dark valley. One of these was
abroad road, and seemed to be well traveled. The other was a narrow
path that led off in another direction. I instinctively followed the
well beaten road. I had not gone far when it seemed to grow darker.
Ever and anon, however, a light would flash up from the distance, and
in this manner I was lighted on my journey. Presently I was met by a
being that it is utterly impossible for me to describe. I can only
give you a faint idea of his dreadful appearance. He resembled a man
somewhat, but much larger than any human being I ever saw. He must
have been at least ten feet high. He had great wings on his back. He
was black as the coal I had been digging, and in a perfectly nude
condition. He had a large spear in his hand, the handle of which must
have been fully fifteen feet in length. His eyes shone like balls of
fire. His teeth, white as pearl, seemed fully an inch long. His nose,
if you could call it a nose, was very large, broad and flat. His hair
was very coarse, heavy and long. It hung down on his massive
shoulders. His voice sounded more like the growls of a lion in a
menagerie than anything I can recall. It was during one of these
flashes of light that I first saw him. I trembled like an aspen leaf
at the sight. He had his spear raised as if to send it flying through
me. I suddenly stopped. With that terrible voice I seem to hear yet,
he bade me follow him; that he had been sent to guide me on my
journey. I followed. What else could I do? After he had gone some
distance a huge mountain appeared to rise up before us. The part
facing us seemed perpendicular, just as if a mountain had been cut in
two and one part had been taken away. On this perpendicular wall I
could distinctly see these words, 'This is Hell.' My guide approached
this perpendicular wall, and with his spear-handle gave three loud
raps. A large massive door swung back and we passed in. I was then
conducted on through what appeared to be a passage through this
mountain. For some time we traveled in Egyptian darkness. I could hear
the heavy footfalls of my guide, and thus could follow him. All along
the way I could hear deep groans, as of some one dying. Further on,
these groans increased, and I could distinctly hear the cry for water,
water, water. Coming now to another gateway, and, passing through, I
could hear, it seemed, a million voices in the distance, and the cry
was for water, water. Presently another large door opened at the knock
of my guide, and I found that we had passed through the mountain, and
now a broad plain layout before me. At this place my guide left me to
direct other lost spirits to the same destination. I remained in this
open plain for a time, when a being somewhat similar to the first one
came to me; but, instead of a spear, he had a huge sword. He came to
tell me of my future doom. He spoke with a voice that struck terror to
my soul. 'Thou art in hell,' said he; 'for thee all hope is fled. As
thou passed through the mountain on thy journey hither, thou didst
hear the groans and shrieks of the lost as they called for water to
cool their parched tongues. Along that passage there is a door that
opens into the lake of fire. This is soon to be thy doom. Before thou
art conducted to this place of torment never more to emerge--for there
is no hope for those who enter there--thou shalt be permitted to
remain in this open plain, where it is granted to all the lost to
behold what they might have enjoyed, instead of what they must
suffer.' With this I was left alone. Whether the result of the
terrible fright through which I had passed I know not, but now I
became stupified. A dull languor took fall possession of my frame. My
strength departed from me. My limbs longer refused to support my body.
Overcome, I now sank down a helpless mass. Drowsiness now took control
of me. Half awake, half asleep, I seemed to dream. Far above me and in
the distance I saw the beautiful city of which we read in the Bible.
How wonderfully beautiful were its walls of jasper. Stretching out and
away in the distance I saw vast plains covered with beautiful flowers.
I, too, beheld the river of life and the sea of glass. Vast multitudes
of angels would pass in and out through the gates of the city,
singing, oh, such beautiful songs. Among the number I saw my dear old
mother, who died a few years ago of a broken heart because of my
wickedness. She looked toward me, and seemed to beckon me to her but I
could not move. There appeared to be a great weight upon me that held
me down. Now a gentle breeze wafted the fragrance of those lovely
flowers to me, and I could now, more plainly than ever, hear the sweet
melody of angel voices, and I said, oh, that I could be one of them.
As I was drinking from this cup of bliss it was suddenly dashed from
my lips. I was aroused from my slumbers. I was brought back from happy
dreamland by an inmate of my dark abode, who said to me that it was
now time to enter upon my future career. He bade me follow him.
Retracing my steps I again entered the dark passage way, and followed
my guide for a time, when we came to a door that opened in the side of
the passage, and, going along this, we finally found ourselves passing
through another door, and lo! I beheld the lake of fire. Just before
me I could see, as far as the eye could reach, that literal lake of
fire and brimstone. Huge billows of fire would roll over each other,
and great waves of fiery flame would dash against each other and leap
high in the air like the waves of the sea during a violent storm. On
the crest of these waves I could see human beings rise, but soon to be
carried down again to the lowest depth of this awful lake of fire.
When borne on the crest, of these awful billows for a time their
curses against a just God would be appalling, and their pitiful cries
for water would be heartrending. This vast region of fire echoed and
re-echoed with the wails of these lost spirits. Presently I turned my
eyes to the door through which I had a few moments before entered, and
I read these awful words: 'This is thy doom; Eternity never ends.'
Shortly I began to feel the earth give way beneath my feet, and I soon
found myself sinking down into the lake of fire. An indescribable
thirst for water now seized upon me. And calling for water, my eyes
opened in the prison hospital.

"I have never told this experience of mine before, for fear the prison
officials would get hold of it, think me insane, and lock me up in the
crank-house. I passed through all this, and I am as well satisfied as
I am that I live, that there is a Heaven and there is a Hell, and a
regular old-fashioned Hell, the kind the Bible tells about. But there
is one thing certain, I am never going to that place any more. As soon
as I opened my eyes in the hospital, and I found that I was alive and
on earth once more, I immediately gave my heart to God, and I am going
to live and die a Christian. While the terrible sights of Hell can
never be banished from my memory, neither can the beautiful things of
Heaven I saw. I am going to meet my dear old mother after awhile. To
be permitted to sit down on the banks of that beautiful river, to
wander with those angels across the plains, through the vales and over
the hills carpeted with fragrant flowers, the beauty of which far
surpasses anything that mortal can imagine; to listen to the songs of
the saved--all this will more than compensate me for living the life
of a Christian here on earth, even if I have to forego many sensual
pleasures in which I indulged before coming to this prison. I have
abandoned my companions in crime, and am going to associate with good
people when I am once more a free man."

After he got through with this wonderful story I asked him if he was
going to tell others of his experience when he got out. His reply was
that people would not believe him, and he would keep it to himself.
Should this little book fall into his hands, and he should read of his
experience while in Hell for forty-eight hours, it will no doubt
surprise him. We give the account to the reader just as we received it
from Lennox. We do not pretend to solve the mystery.



CHAPTER X

STOLEN HORSES

Justice should be meted out to many who, though guilty, are shrewd
enough to evade it. From one of the most notorious horse-thieves in
the Kansas penitentiary I learned of the manner in which stolen horses
were disposed of.

This convict's name is John Watkins. He served a term of three years
in the Missouri penitentiary, and is now serving out a ten years'
sentence in the Kansas State's prison. He is the chief convict steward
in the hospital, and an able assistant of the prison physician, by
whom his services are highly appreciated. This prisoner has immediate
care of all the sick. His heart is tender as that of a woman. To
listen to this man, as he sat with tearful eye at the bedside of the
dying prisoner, and spoke words of cheer to him, one would scarcely
believe him to be the most daring and one of the shrewdest
horse-thieves that ever visited our State. In conversation with him
one night as I lay on my sick bed in the hospital, he gave me an
outline of his life's history that reads much like a romance.

I said to him, "John, tell me how many horses you have stolen during
the time you have been engaged in that line of business?"

His reply was, that if he had stolen one more he would have been
successful in having stolen an even two hundred.

"What did you do with them after you had stolen them?"

He told me his headquarters were in Kansas City; that he would go up
in the neighborhood of Omaha and Lincoln and get his horses, and tie
them in the woods until he had picked up a number of them, and then he
would make his way to the south. Horses stolen in Nebraska he would
run south to sell. Those stolen in Missouri and Kansas he would take
to the north. He told me that in Omaha, St. Joseph, Atchison,
Leavenworth and Kansas City there were dealers, usually keepers of
livery stables, who would purchase these stolen horses. He gave me the
names of a number of these men, some of whom I know personally. Little
would I ever have suspected that these men were engaged in such a
wicked traffic as knowingly to deal in stolen property. "When I had a
number of horses," he continued, "and wished to dispose of them in St.
Joseph, for instance, I would ride into the suburbs of the city and
send a note to the man who usually purchased my stock. I would never
be seen about his barn. After night he would make his way to where I
was and purchase my horses, paying me about one-half what they would
really bring in the general market. I would get about fifty dollars
for an average horse. After purchasing my stolen horses he would not
take them to his livery barn, but to a private stable, usually at his
residence. When he would pay over the money for this stolen property
he would make out a bill of sale for each one, and would step into a
store or grocery, and in the presence of some business man he would
say to me, we will sign the bill of sale for that horse I bought of
you, and have this gentleman to witness the transaction. I gave you
fifty dollars at the barn, and now here is fifty dollars more, which
makes the hundred, the sum I was to pay for the animal." I would take
the money, sign the bill of sale, which would be witnessed by the
business man in whose presence the trade was consummated. We would
then go to another place of business and sign a bill of sale for
another horse, and have that witnessed by another business man, and
would continue this until all the horses I had sold were paid for. In
this manner he would shift all responsibility of crime upon me.
Securing my money I would rest for a time until 'I went broke,' and
then I would make another trip. The horse merchant would sometimes
keep his horses until he had picked up a car load, and then he would
ship them out of the country to Chicago, St. Louis or some other horse
market. Sometimes the horse buyer would run stolen property out into
the country and exchange it for other property in which he would have
a good title and which he could take to his livery barn and feel safe
with it there."

"What did you do with your money, John?" I inquired.

To this question he answered that in Kansas City he had a suite of
rooms fitted up in elegant style, and kept a mistress. Upon this woman
he squandered all his money, obtained honestly and dishonestly. In
addition to his horse-thieving raids he had several other sources of
criminal revenue. One of these sources he described as follows: "I
kept a horse and wagon, the wheels of which were covered with india
rubber. The feet of the horse were also encased in the same material.
I could move about the streets of the city in the late hours of the
night without making any disturbance, and would pick up anything I
could lay my hands on that I could convert into money. I have carried
away many a stove and broken it up and sold it for old iron. I would
also make my way out into the country and pillage. Often I would enter
small towns and load up my noiseless wagon with stolen goods, which I
would take out of the stores. All of this money I would foolishly
spend on the woman I loved."

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