Secret Band of Brothers Part 11

We have had a recent visit from Mr. J. H. Green, the "Reformed Gambler,"

of whom you have previously spoken favourably in the editorial department of your paper. Many are highly pleased with the man, and think he should be sustained by public patronage and the press, inasmuch as he comes with good credentials of moral and Christian character from the church. Many think his course calculated to do much good, for this and coming generations. He appears admirably calculated and accomplished for exposing the deceptive marks and tricks of this heartless race of land-pirates, called Gamblers, alias "_Sportsmen_." His description of their infernal conduct and character cannot fail to put men on their guard in season to shun them as they would a deadly pestilence that walketh in darkness, and destruction that wasteth at noonday.

The grog-shop, the brothel, and the gambling-room, are three of the blackest fountains of human misery over which the devil presides. From these he gathers the bitterest waters of h.e.l.lish destruction, and spreads them broad-cast over creation: of which eternity can only measure the full amount.

The Temperance Cause has attacked one of those sinks of Satan; the Moral Reform enterprise has commenced upon another, and Mr. Green has now taken the third "bull by the horns." Money and talent, and the press, are enlisted against the two former, and shall we stand aloof, and leave Mr. Green to combat the dragon single-handed and alone? It is high time the whole community was aroused to the desolating evils of Gambling; and the press, too, in thunder-tones, should be made to speak out upon this, as upon other soul-destroying vices of the land.

Mr. Green has given five Lectures in our village: two in the Town Hall, two in the Methodist Church, and one in the State Prison. On Sabbath, sixth instant, at four o'clock, P.M., he addressed the children of the several Sabbath-schools of the town, in the Methodist Episcopal Church, to good effect; and in the evening, the same house was filled to a perfect jam. Here Mr. Green was listened to with the best possible attention; and I believe the great bulk of that immense throng, not only believed him a reformed man, but also that he was doing a good and necessary work in this country.

At nine o'clock, Sabbath morning, Mr. Green spoke to the unfortunate inmates of this prison, numbering some eight hundred convicts, besides a large concourse of citizens, who flocked to hear him at the same place.

His discourse was listened to in breathless silence by those men, and hundreds of them wept freely, while listening to a recital of the horrors of Gambling, as experienced during twelve wretched years of his own gambling life, and of his reformation and salvation by grace in Christ. A deep and powerful impression pervaded the vast concourse, while all was graced by beautiful strains of vocal music by the "Boston Quartet Club," and all pa.s.sed off finely.

After Chapel service, Mr. Green and myself visited the cell of Henry Wyatt, the murderer of James Gordon, of which the papers have spoken.

They readily recognised each other, as having been members of the same gambling fraternity in the south and west. More than fifty gamblers were named by them, whose doleful history was equally familiar to both.

Previous to this visit by Mr. Green, Wyatt had told me that gambling was the cause of his ruin. At the close of our visit of some two hours, Mr.

Green gave Wyatt a pathetic exhortation to read his Bible, and pray much, to repent of sin, and believe in Christ, and to seek religion as the only thing which could prepare him for his approaching doom. Tears flowed freely, and Wyatt exclaimed, "What a pity it is that you had not come out in this way four years ago; then I should not have been here in _chains_, as you see me now." We wept together, and left his cell in silence.

Respectfully yours, &c., O.E. MORRILL, _Chaplain_.

No. 2.

From the Christian Advocate and Journal.

GREEN'S FIRST VISIT TO AUBURN STATE PRISON.

Doctor Bond:--

_Dear Sir_,--I shall be happy to contribute to your valuable sheet the following communication:

I visited the Auburn State Prison, upon the morning of the 4th instant, accompanied by the Boston Quartet Club, better known in New York city than in this region for their valuable services in calling out so many thousands to hear the eloquence of John B. Gough, in behalf of temperance. We pa.s.sed through the different workshops of the prison, where many hundreds are doing the different labours allotted to them by their agents. The health of the prisoners is as good, and spirits better than any inst.i.tution I have ever visited. Though the gloom of the prisoner was not made manifest by his haggard countenance, yet I could not prevent the melancholy reflection, that every heart knew its own sorrow. I have seen much of human depravity in this wicked world--I have felt the sensitive nerve made like an ice-drop by the cold finger of scorn--I know how to sympathize with the child of circ.u.mstances--with the heart-broken parent, whose pale, care-worn cheek but too plainly speaks, "We feel trouble, but ye know it not." How many friends and relatives are now bemoaning the loss of that boy who was once the pride of all that knew him in the days of his affluence! Rising eight hundred souls are now confined in the Auburn State Prison; and as my thoughts expanded in their melancholy train, I asked myself, Who are to blame for all the crimes committed, and which have incarcerated so many human beings? I answered by referring to my own sad experience. By the carelessness of the parent or guardian, the bud is nipped before the blossom puts forth, and should it not scatter its leaves to the four winds, it cannot fail to produce evil fruit. With these sad feelings, I wended my way through the prison, which speaks well to the praise of the different agents placed there to conduct the working departments.

On my return to the prison office, I was introduced to the chaplain, Rev. O.E. Morrill, which reverend gentleman informed me that a man by the name of Wyatt, then confined in one of the cells for the murder of Gordon, on the 16th of March, in the Auburn State Prison, had confessed to him that he had lived a gambler several years in the south and west, and he would like I should call upon him. I accompanied him to the cell of the murderer. The door was thrown open upon its grating hinges, when the reverend gentleman introduced me as an acquaintance of his who had travelled south several years, and thought that he (Wyatt) would be glad to converse with him. He said he was happy to see me, and asked me to be seated. After a short discourse, relative to the different cla.s.ses of men then in confinement, I asked him what he followed in his travels through the south. He told me gambling. I asked him how long he had been engaged in that nefarious business. He said twelve or thirteen years. I asked him if he knew many gamblers? He said he did. I asked him if he ever knew one by the name of Green? He said he did. I asked his name? He answered, "John;" said he knew him in 1832, 1833, 1834, and 1835, and saw him in 1842 in St. Louis. I asked him if he was intimate with Green?

He said he knew him as one gambler knew another. I asked if I favoured him? He said if I would stand in the light he would tell me. I did so.

He said I looked like the man. I told him I was the man, but that I never knew him by the name of Wyatt. He said I did not; that Wyatt was not his real name. He then told me another, which was not his real name, and asked me if I did not hear of a man being murdered near St. Louis in the year 1841, and of two men being arrested, both tried and convicted, one having a new trial granted him, the other being hung. I told him that I thought I had. He said he was the man that had the new trial granted, and was acquitted; "and," said he, "they hung the wrong man; he was innocent; I am the guilty man; but they hung him and cleared me."

"But," says I, "you were under a different name still, at that time." He said, "Yes, by none of those names do you know me, but my real name you are familiar with. Your name," said he, "I knew in the year 1832; the gamblers called you John, but Jonathan is your real name." My curiosity was highly excited at the strange management of the murderer. But you may imagine the increase of it when he told me his real name. I looked at the murderer, and could scarcely believe my own eyes; yet he stood before me a living marvel. I have pledged secresy as to his real name until after his execution. I interrogated him on his first steps in vice, and how he became so hardened. He told me to remember the treatment he had received from the Lynchers' lash at Vicksburg. I did, but my eyes could scarcely credit reality. I had known him in 1832, 1833, 1834, and in the early part of 1835, as a bar-keeper in Vicksburg.

He was never a shrewd card-player, but at that time was considered an inoffensive youth. The coffee-house he kept was owned by North, who, with four others, were executed on the 5th of July, 1835, by Lynch law.

Wyatt and three others were taken on the morning of the 7th, stripped, and one thousand lashes given to the four, tarred and feathered, and put into a canoe and set adrift on the Mississippi river. It makes my blood curdle and my flesh quiver to think of the suffering condition of these unfortunate men, set adrift on the morning of the 7th of July, with the broiling sun upon their mangled bodies. Two died in about two hours after they were set afloat. Wyatt and another remained with their hands and feet bound forty hours, suffering more than tongue can tell or pen describe, when they were picked up by some slave negroes, who started with the two survivors to their quarters. His companion died before they arrived. Wyatt survives to tell the horrors of the Lyncher's lash. He told me seven murders had been occasioned by their unmerciful treatment to him, and one innocent man hung. I know his statements to be true, for I had known him before 1835, and his truth in other particulars cannot be doubted. He murdered his seventh man, for which crime he will be executed. I have another communication for your paper concerning the murderer, and his prospects in the world to come.

Yours, truly, J. H. GREEN.

Auburn, April 10, 1845.

No. 3.

From the Christian Advocate and Journal.

GREEN'S SECOND VISIT TO AUBURN STATE PRISON.

Doctor Bond:

_Dear Sir_,--I made my second visit to the prison on Sabbath morning, the 6th instant, accompanied by the Boston Quartet Club. As we were winding our way through the halls and pa.s.sing the gloomy cells, I felt sad and melancholy upon reflecting on the purpose of so large a prison.

Is it possible, thought I, that our heaven-favoured land of freedom requires inst.i.tutions of so extensive a character as this to keep down the vices of a people who boast of their morality? Yet, horrible as it appeared to me, I thought, if many of the foreign travellers, who are ever ready to criticise and condemn our inst.i.tutions, were conducted through the Auburn State Prison, without any intimation of its design, they would put it down in their journals of travel as an inst.i.tution to diffuse literary science and useful knowledge; and from what we have learned of inst.i.tutions of the latter kind, under monarchical governments, we have little hesitation in saying, that they would not compare well with this prison. Nor would they be willing that some of their plans for the diffusion of useful knowledge, in the way of charity, should be compared, in respect to health and religious principles, with this inst.i.tution, intended only for the punishment and prevention of crime, and the reformation of criminals. And if it be the fact, that our state's prison is better calculated than some foreign inst.i.tutions designed to educate the poor of the land for this same purpose, it certainly will stand good that our land of liberty is comparatively the land of morality.

We entered the chapel, where were seated nearly eight hundred convicts, and something like one hundred citizens, who had been admitted for the purpose of hearing the sweet melody of the Boston Quartet Club, and to hear the reformed gambler speak upon a vice which had brought over one hundred within the gloomy walls of a state's prison. Service commenced with prayer by the chaplain, Rev. O.E. Morrill. The Boston Quartet Club then sung the beautiful sacred piece, "Hear my Prayer," during which breathless silence made manifest that the music was enjoyed. I was then introduced as the reformed gambler, Mr. J. H. Green. When I arose, there was profound silence throughout the chapel, to hear my sad experience. I felt perfectly incompetent to give satisfaction to an audience, partly composed of the most hardened wretches that infest our land--men who are steeped to the very lips in degradation, many of whom are men of talent, well-educated, and well acquainted with most of the leading topics of the day, knowing, too, as I did, that an error might be construed into an insult; and to such men an insult is unpardonable. I commenced by relating my sad experience, and in a few minutes there could scarcely be seen a dry cheek in that vast a.s.sembly of depraved men. My address being closed, the prisoners were marched in order to their dining-room.

The chaplain and myself visited the cell of Wyatt, the murderer. We found him sitting upon the straw which covered the floor. He seemed to be somewhat indifferent when the chaplain first spoke to him, but upon his second speech, telling that Mr. Green had again called to see him, he sprung to his feet and shook hands with me--said he was glad I had called--that he had been fearful I had left the prison, after giving my address, without seeing him, and added, "Mr. Green, I would love to hear you give your experience." I told him of the attention the prisoners had given me, and the advice I had given them, about signing the anti-gambling pledge, so soon as they were released--to come out with their sad experience, and they would find the good and generous-hearted ever ready to receive them. He turned round to the chaplain and said, "How much good such a society as that would have done, had it been formed before I became a gambler!--How many men it would have saved from the dagger of the midnight murderer! But it is too late to save me." I changed the subject, by asking him about different gamblers of our country. We talked about many with whom we both had been intimate. Some, he tells me, now live in your empire city, and were leading men among the politicians in the last presidential contest. I knew them to be leading men. I knew them to be gamblers and swaggering bullies; and I knew them to be at one time connected with Wyatt, but did not know them to be murderers; yet they certainly are.

Wyatt asked me if they permitted such men to vote? I told him they did.

Said he, "A gambler should not be ent.i.tled to a vote, nor to his oath."

He spoke correctly; and said he, "The day is not far distant when the man, who is known to the world as a gambler, will not be countenanced."

Neither his vote nor his oath would be taken at the present day, if the citizens, who are the bone and sinew of the country, would take into consideration his real principles. He said, "No man who bets upon elections should be ent.i.tled to his vote, nor to his oath; for a man who can be excited to bet upon an election, can be excited when upon oath to stretch the blanket; or, in plainer language, to swear to a lie. Such I believe to be facts." "And lotteries are another species of villany,"

said he; "the money goes to the vendor, and makes his victim poor and dishonest. Such I know to be facts." Pleased to hear a man, situated as Wyatt, the murderer, is, reason so candidly, I changed the subject, in order to learn more about the murders he had committed. I knew that a man, in the year 1839, was missing from Natchez, by the name of Tucker, and by the run of Wyatt's discourse, I found he was in that part about the same time.

I told Wyatt that a man by the name of Tucker was supposed to have been murdered about that date between Natchez and New Orleans. He laughed, and said he knew something about it. "Myself and three others," said he, "went to Natchez as produce speculators. Tucker owned a boat load of produce. We contracted for it, advanced him money sufficient to pay off his hands, telling him we had sufficient help; that he could go with us to New Orleans, and that on our arrival there, we would pay him the balance due. He did so. We paid him in a Mississippi bath. We murdered him, and then threw him overboard." I asked him if he ever was suspected. He said, not that he knew of. I asked him if he was not afraid, when he was committing such a murder, that the body might rise upon the water and be the means of their being suspected. "We cut their entrails out," said he, "then they never rise until resurrection-day." I felt heart-sick at his dreadful description of the murder of Tucker. I knew him. He was a good, honest man. I arose from my seat, took him by the hand, and bade him good day, promising him to call again. I will, in my next, inform you of the particulars of my third visit, which will lead you further into his dreadful history. I will in my next also speak of his views on the subject of religion.

Yours, truly, J. H. GREEN.

Auburn, April 17, 1845.

No. 4.

The following letter was written and published by the unanimous consent of every honest citizen of Cleveland, Ohio, of which place I can only speak in the language of commendation. It is one of the most virtuous cities in the state, according to its population; and from the interest two of the princ.i.p.al organs took in behalf of the anti-gambling cause, I am certain that no filthy sheet can ever pollute its moral principles.

_To the Editor of the Cleveland Plaindealer:_

Mr. Gray, Sir--The Herald of last evening contained a letter over the signature of O.E. Morrill, dated July 25th, 1845, charging J. H. Green, "the Reformed Gambler," with misrepresenting the confessions made to him by "Wyatt, the murderer." The Anti-Gambling Society of this city have requested me, as its President, to publish the following letter, in justice to Mr. Green, and in answer to Mr. Morrill. It was written on the 12th of July last, in reply to Mr. Morrill's "private note,"

referred to in his letter published last evening. A true copy was made, and the original forwarded to Mr. O.E. Morrill on the day of its date, by Dr. Cowles, of this city. Deeming this letter a complete refutation of the charges against Mr. Green, the Society have taken the liberty, without his knowledge, of requesting you to place it before the public.

Your obedient servant, John E. Cary.

Cleveland, August 5, 1845.

[This letter was written in reply to a letter addressed me by the Rev.

O.E. Morrill, requesting my return to Auburn, fifteen days previous to his publishing my statements as false, and letter No. 7 will show in what manner I replied.]

No. 5.

Cleveland, July 12, 1845.

_Mr. O.E. Morrill:_

Dear sir,--I have just received yours of the 10th. Speaking in regard to Wyatt's case, you state that you was very much surprised at my letters.

Why did you not tell me so before they were published? You also heard both the first and second letter before I left your section. Why did you not object to them before?

Again, you say, some parts are my own representations. This I deny. I will not say that I have given them verbatim, but this I do say, and will maintain, that I have not exaggerated in my statements.

Yet I do not wish to injure that poor doomed man. G.o.d forbid. I do not think as you do about Wyatt. I know him better than you do, or can. I know that he has been the child of circ.u.mstances. I know that he is not a man who will strictly confine himself to the truth; and fear of death will make him do any thing that he is told to do. His denying what he told me, I care nothing for. In my statements, if they were not correct from him to me, I am not accountable; I believe them to be facts.

Now for a few questions to brighten your memory. When we entered his cell for the first time, you introduced me as a man who had lived in the south. I interrogated him on his past life. Did I not commence at Huntsville, in the year 1832, and trace him to November, 1835, at the mouth of the Ohio, with the Texas troops? When he told me that he had known me up to that date, that he also saw me at St. Louis, do you not recollect his asking me if I had not heard of a man being murdered in, or near St. Louis, one man hung, and the other acquitted? And do you not recollect I told him I thought I did; also, that at the same time I was informed, that the people thought that the guilty man was cleared, and the innocent one hung. He laughed, and said he was the guilty one, or something amounting to the same? Do you recollect, in your own letter to the Tribune, you stated that over fifty gamblers were recognised, with whose doleful history we were both familiar? Also, do you not recollect his telling about their lynching him; about the cords cutting his arms?