The first one who was converted under my ministry, before going to the scaffold, was executed in August, 1885, in the state of Kentucky. On going to jail I found this young man there with the sentence of death upon him. The burden of his lost condition came upon my soul in great power. I felt I should die unless he was saved, and cried mightily to God for his conviction and conversion. I held several meetings there and was entertained a part of the time by the sheriff's wife, who was a Christian lady. She, too, was very anxious for this young man's salvation. As I took the train to leave the place, his mother accompanied me to the depot—crying and pleading, "Oh, pray for my poor boy. It will surely kill me." The bitter wail of that mother's heart seems to still ring in my ears. Letters from the sheriff's wife came often, telling me of the boy's still seeming indifferent. But she said that he often inquired about me and wanted to see me.
I prayed for this soul almost incessantly for forty-five days, being scarcely able to sleep at night; and he was finally converted. After his conversion I received from him the following letters:
——, KY., August 5, 1885.
My Dear Friend:
I received your card this morning and was very glad to hear from you indeed. Mrs. Wheaton, I feel my Savior in my heart. I know that He will save my soul. I am praying to my God every hour in the day. I am praying for God to place something in my heart to tell the people when I go to the scaffold. I want to tell them what my Savior has placed in my heart—the man that suffered and died that I should have everlasting life. I wish you could be with me once more on earth to sing and pray with me, but if not, I will meet you on that other shore. My friend Charley is praying and singing with me every day and night and says he will meet us in the kingdom. They are all well here but Mrs. N. (the sheriff's wife). She has been sick, but is better now. I would like to be with you once more before I die, and if not, look out for me when you reach that happy land. Good-by, good-by. Remember me in your prayers. I have yet nine days to live.
From your friend,
H—— F——.
——, KY., August 12, 1885.
My Dear Friend:
I received your card tonight at my cell door. I seem to see you now at the door of my cell, praying for me. The sheriff came in this morning and put shackles on me. But I thank God that after two days more I will be at rest. I have been praying to my Father to teach me something to tell the world at my last hour. I would like to tell everybody what my dear Savior has done for me. He has given me what I asked Him for and He will go with me to the scaffold. I will see you again, "In the fair and happy land, just across on the evergreen shore." I am ready to go home to rest. I have suffered enough in this world, so I will bid the world good-by. I will have to bid you good-by for the present. I will see you again. I will watch for you. Excuse me for not answering you sooner. I am in my cell and it is very dark for me to write, but I do my best. I fast and pray most all the time. Good-by once more for a while.
From your true friend,
H. F.
Below is an extract from a letter written by the sheriff's wife to me shortly after the execution took place:
Dear Sister:
I fulfill the promise I made to poor Henry the day he was executed, to write you a letter and tell you all about him after he was gone to that bright glory land. It would have done you good to have seen him the last three days he lived. He was as happy as he could be. He had a smile on his countenance all the time and never broke down, no difference who of his friends came to see him. He talked to his mother and brothers so nice and gave them such good advice. He told his mother to not grieve after him, but to rejoice, for he would be so much better off after he was gone, for he knew that he would be at rest. And if they would live and do right they could come to him. The people that were here that day (and there were between four and five thousand) were surprised to see the beautiful countenance he left the prison with. He helped to sing that beautiful hymn,
"And must I be to judgment brought, And answer in that day For every vain and idle thought And every word I say?"
with the chorus,
"We are passing away,"
and he was heard distinctly by all. He clapped his hands while he was singing; then he stepped on to the trap and was soon gone. He had a prayer on his lips when the black cap was drawn over his face, and said, "Good-by" to all his friends, and repeated, "Good-by." He told me to tell you he expected to meet you in heaven. His mother and brothers send their kindest regards to you. May God bless you.
Your sister in Christ,
S. N.
MOTHER'S PRAYERS.
The case of C—— was one of most intense interest to the public as well as his immediate friends. For long months I wept and prayed for this young man. He was hoping for a new trial. He was always glad to see me and to have me sing for him. He was refined, educated, a member of "one of the F. F. V.'s," as they say, yet doomed to die on the scaffold. How my heart longed to see him saved—for Jesus, too, was longing for his salvation.
I was called to other fields of labor before the fatal day and was not sure of his acceptance with God, but can but hope that his poor mother's prayers and mine were heard in heaven and that that poor, misguided youth whose every wish had before been gratified was forgiven. We can but cast the mantle of charity over the case and leave it with Him who wills not that any should perish but that all should turn to Him and live. He wrote me the following: