CORRESPONDENCE—VISITS AT ANGELICA WITH D. D. HOW, THE MURDERER—HIS SERMON AT THE GALLOWS.
From the extensive correspondence of Mr. Badger, little at present can be introduced, as the interest of his published journal and things relating to his personal life and public labor have the paramount claim. Yet the freedom in which a large variety of minds addressed him evinces that he was beloved confidingly, as well as respected and admired. As an example of the free expression of one class of correspondents, we may take the following lines, dated near 1824, from the pen of a gentleman of the medical profession, Troy, Pa.:
"I think I informed you I was not a professor of religion, though I have a friendly regard for all such as appear to worship God in a rational and consistent manner, whose minds have not been circumscribed by undigested creeds and by uncharitable proscription. I have read some and thought much on the subject of religion, and after all I confess I am rather skeptical. I have endeavored to view it abstractedly by the lights of reason and philosophy; to consider what it is, its origin and design. To sum up in a few words, if I may be allowed the expression, I should consider it indispensably necessary to those who would not be good without it. Take this away, and what method would be left to bring the mere child of nature to the practice of virtue? You could not discover to him the excellency there is in goodness, and the reward which it brings. His imagination needs to be awed by the penalty annexed to vice. It may seem paradoxical to say that when men become good for goodness' sake, they have no need of religion."
Bold thoughts were no alarm to Mr. Badger; and not many persons had his faculty for taking away effectually the objections which really stood in the path of the unbelieving, though in doing so his methods were his own, and he had no use for the logical phrases of those who have been styled apologists for religion or Christianity. In looking over lines like those first quoted, is it not impossible to repress the sentiment, that "he who becomes good for goodness' sake," instead of having no need of religion, already has it in its highest possible form? It cannot be otherwise.
1824 finds Mr. Badger engaged in the local sphere of pastor; and, among the solemn and responsible duties of his profession for this year, was that of hearing the confession of a murderer, of leading his mind into faith and penitence, of administering to the bereaved families the consolations of Christian views and sympathy, and of preaching the funeral discourse of the prisoner to the immense concourse who witnessed his execution. At that time, cool and deliberate murders were comparatively rare; generally, there was great avidity to know the causes and incidents involved in the crime. The surprise and dread such intelligence awakened corresponded somewhat justly with the awful nature of the guilt which caused them. David D. How, of the town of Angelica, Alleghany County, New York, a few miles from the place where the horrid murder of Mr. Othello Church was committed, December the 29th, 1823, was a man originally from New England, and of respectable connexions; but, from a series of misfortunes and injuries experienced in life, and probably also from the peculiar organic defection which the organization of murderers usually exhibits, was prepared, though not without a violent conflict of inward emotions, to execute a murder of revenge on the person of Mr. Church, whom he regarded as having been instrumental in promoting the misfortunes that left him destitute of property, in the summer of 1823. Several angry disputes had occurred between them; and, judging from the treatment he rendered to Mr. Palmer, for having, as he thought, taken undue advantages of his troubles, one is willing to infer that revenge was his predominant tendency.
"I went," says he, "in the month of October, to Hornelsville, and being detained there one day, I had occasion to ride in the evening of the 23d, and about 12 o'clock at night came to Mr. Palmer's, near Angelica. I saw his valuable mills, on which the orbs of heaven faintly shone, and the sable curtains of night had mantled the scenery in majestic grandeur. Now, I said, is the time for me to have vengeance on one of my greatest enemies on earth. I dismounted and surveyed the scene before me. Finding the door fast, I obtained an entrance by a small window which I could raise; I entered the dark cavity; all was solitary and silent, and every step resounded with midnight horror; the sweet stream uttered its innocent murmur below, and all nature seemed combined to reprove me of my sin."
Though hesitating for a moment, a brief meditation on the causes of offence induced him to turn the mills of his neighbor into a scene of flames, which, to use the language of the criminal, "shone upon the heavens with alarming lustre" to his "guilty conscience," before he arrived at home. With equal determination, on the night of the 29th of December, after returning from the village of Angelica, between 10 and 11 o'clock, at a season when the condition of the snow would not allow him to be tracked, did he proceed to execute the awful deed on which he had long meditated, the murder, in his own house, of Othello Church,[35] whom he called from his slumbers to receive the fatal shot. This murderer thought and reflected on his end and his means. Once before, he had waylaid the path of his victim, and watched at night, with rifle in hand, behind the great pine tree; "while I stood here," said Mr. H., "I had some solemn reflections. The sweet evening breeze gently pressed the lofty forest, and the tall pines could bend beneath the power of heaven; but my obdurate heart remained unmoved." Such was the character of the man whose depths of heart were moved by the influences of Mr. Badger. Though a murderer, he was far, very far, from total depravity, for he could sincerely mourn over his own guilt, and weep over his beautiful daughter with a father's love. He was tried for his offence at Angelica, before Judge Rochester; was, by the force of circumstantial evidence, declared guilty, and, on February 8th, was sentenced to be hung March 19th, 1824. By the request of Judge Griffin, who had consulted the prisoner, Mr. Badger was requested to attend on Mr. How, and to do what he could in preparing his mind for the awful crisis before him; and, as these duties are a part of his journal for this year, we will look a moment longer at its particulars.
March the 2d, Mr. Badger took rooms at Judge Dautremont's, in Angelica, (a place 65 miles from his residence,) that he might every day have familiar access to the mind of the prisoner. The day of his arrival he entered the gloomy apartment, at 2 o'clock, P. M. found Mr. How reading the Scriptures by candle light; soon the mind of the guilty stranger unfolded freely and without reserve, to him who now endeavored to render assistance in making his peace with the eternal powers. A chain-bound prisoner in darkness, seeking to know how he shall whiten his spirit from mortal crime! A herald of the cross genially making him feel his brotherhood with man, and bowing with him in prayer to the Infinite Pacifier! A scene like this in a world of sin is a gleam of light across the ocean of darkness, even though the inveterate past should refuse to be blotted out by prayers and penance.
"In conversation," said Mr. B., "he is pleasant, familiar, easy and polite, and often his countenance is lighted up by an artificial smile. He is a man of quick discernment, and possesses a mind of unusual strength and great composure in the hour of trouble; yet he sometimes weeps at the most trifling circumstances. He feels great attachment to his friends, uncommon fondness for his children, and an ungovernable hatred to his enemies. I found Mr. How almost in a despairing state of mind. He asked my opinion of 1 John 3:15: 'No murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.' I informed him that the same verse said: 'Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer' and that no person while possessed of hatred, or in the act of murder, could be in possession of eternal life. He wept at my remarks, and asked many questions. I informed him 'all manner of sin should be forgiven except the sin against the Holy Ghost;' and I endeavored to hold up the way of life to him. We united in prayer several times, and after an interview of six hours I left him overwhelmed in grief.
"March 3d, entered the dungeon at 8 o'clock, A. M., found him very much composed. After attending prayers we sung two hymns, and his heart was apparently filled with love to all the creatures of God. He commenced speaking in the most affecting language. He spoke of the sin of profanity and drinking, described the murder of Mr. Church in the most affecting manner, and mourned that he had no time to prepare to meet his God. He said he could not think that God would forgive him, as his sins were of such an aggravated nature, and were committed against so good a Being, and against such great light. I made him three visits, and the dungeon became a pleasant place. He this day requested me to write his journal, to preach at his execution, and superintend his funeral.
"March 4. Spent four hours in my first visit, found him much composed and well resigned. I entreated with the sheriff for the removal of his irons, and succeeded, for which he expressed much gratitude."
It were indeed too long for our purpose to transcribe the half of what Mr. Badger has interestingly written on this topic. His duties were faithfully and ably done; and, what might be anticipated, he gained, and for a holy purpose, the entire mastery of the murderer's heart; turned his revengeful passions, for the time at least, into prayerful kindness for his enemies, and, through his free choice, became the agent of his most sacred trusts. On the 5th, he received and delivered to Mrs. Church the imploring and penitent address of Mr. How; also visited the family and plantation of the murderer; on the 6th, witnessed the interview between Mr. How and his own family, to whom he administered appropriate advice. Through all his doubts and fears, he accompanied the spirit-wanderings of the culprit, and succeeded in bringing his mind to a state in which he was conscious that an eternal sun shone somewhat brightly through the cloud openings of his dark horizon.
"On Sunday, the 14th, in the afternoon," says Mr. B., "his daughter, a beautiful little girl about 19 years of age, arrived. She trembled as she approached the gloomy apartment of her father. They embraced each other with great affection, and all the spectators wept. He called his daughter and friends to view the coffin, which, he informed her, was like her mother's. They wished me to pray with them; and, at the close of prayer, I found the father and daughter leaning upon the coffin, with their hands joined; he exclaimed, 'Oh, my Harriet! must we part? You are the image of your excellent mother—you have derived your good disposition and all your good qualities from her. You have nothing good from me.' They both wept aloud, and every heart seemed to be moved with grief. On the 15th I witnessed a reconciling interview between Mr. How, Mr. Palmer, and Sheriff Wilson, men of business who had once been great friends, but whose friendship had been broken by serious difficulties.
"March the 18th. He sent for me at daybreak. I found he had a restless night, and was in great distress. I made him several visits; his family came to take their leave of him forever. At 3 o'clock P. M., the Rev. Mr. Roach, a Methodist minister, preached a short discourse in the dungeon from John 3:16. Five clergymen were present, and the scene was solemn. Mr. How took the lead in singing two hymns, and carried his part through in a graceful manner. In singing the first, he stood up and leaned partly on the stove; held his little girl by one hand, who sat in the lap of her mother, and with the other he took the hand of his affectionate brother, who stood by his side. At the close of the meeting, his wife gave him her hand for the last time. He embraced her with fondness, and when he pressed his little girl to his bosom (about four years of age) he wept aloud. He requested that several Christian friends should spend the night with him in prayer; thus his last night on earth was spent in imploring God for grace and mercy.
"March the 19th. I entered the prison at break of day, found him much resigned. He observed, as I entered, that his last night on earth was gone, which he had spent in prayer. At 7 o'clock I visited him again with a company of ladies who had never seen him. Mrs. Richards, of Dansville, took him by the hand, both fell upon their knees, and she prayed for him in the most fervent manner. He then prayed for himself, for his family, for the family of Mrs. Church, who were afflicted by him, for his executioner, and all the world. As we came out, a gentleman remarked that he had never heard a man pray like him. At 9, I entered his apartment for the last time, accompanied by his beloved daughter and a young man who was soon to become her husband. We entered with serious hearts; he received them very pleasantly, and made remarks to me on the fine weather, and the lady who had prayed with him. He asked of me the privilege of walking into the yard with the young man. They spent a short time together. He then asked me to wait on Harriet to the door. He placed her by the side of the young man, and delivered her to his charge, saying that she had long been deprived of the counsels of a mother,[36] and would be in a few moments separated from her father forever. 'I now commit her to you as a friend, protector, and lover.'"
For Mr. H. there was much public sympathy, owing to the belief that he had suffered many provoking wrongs. Passages like these have a moral, and even philosophical value, in showing that the human spirit is not exhausted of wealth, no, not even by capital offence; that great sentiments of manliness may temporarily occupy an invisible throne within, though clouded and veiled from general recognition.
On the 19th, in the presence of six thousand persons, Mr. How was executed, to which immense throng Mr. Badger preached a sermon of thirty minutes, from Numbers 35: 33, which we have heard spoken of as a masterly effort. With all his feeling for the offending, he had no morbid sympathies to pour out on the injustice of his punishment; he spoke of the propriety and the majesty of the law; of the necessity of cleansing the land of murderous crimes; alleging that, while government exists, its principles must be faithfully carried into action; that the officers who, in their different official capacities, executed this solemn law, were as much in the way of their duty as he who tills the soil, and supports the government by his labor. Mr. Badger was no ultraist. He held that this world, on which golden sunlight is scattered, was not made for rascals; nor did he accuse the world of ignorance when the deliberate murderer died for his crime. In these quoted paragraphs, we see how Mr. B. passed the larger part of a month in the spring of 1824; and though the acrimony which attaches to religious sects was industrious in the misrepresentation of his theological sentiments, he cleared himself triumphantly of all their charges, and came off with the decided approbation of the judges, officers, and indeed of all the leading men whose acquaintance he had formed, for the able and faithful manner in which he had performed his high duties, and for the proper course he had pursued both as a gentleman and a minister.