CHAPTER XII
_Showing how the Dead Man escaped from the State Prison at Sing Sing._
The New York State Prison is situated at Sing Sing, a village on thebanks of the Hudson river, a few miles above the city. Being built inthe strongest manner, it is deemed almost an impossibility for aprisoner to effect his escape from its massive walls. The discipline isstrict and severe, and the system one of hard labor and unbrokensilence, with reference to any conversation among the convicts--thoughin respect to the last regulation, it is impossible to enforce italways, where so many men are brought together in the prison andworkshops attached to it.
The Dead Man, (who it will be recollected formerly made his escape fromthe prison,) on being returned there, after his capture by the twoofficers at Sydney's house, was locked in one of the cells, and left tohis own not very agreeable reflections. He had been sentenced toimprisonment for life; and as his conduct and character precluded allhope of his ever being made the object of executive clemency, he wascertain to remain there during the rest of his days, unless he couldagain manage to escape; and this he determined to do, or perish in theattempt.
For three days he was kept locked in his solitary cell, the only foodallowed him being bread and water. On the third day he was brought out,stripped, and severely flogged with the _cats_, an instrument of torturesimilar to that used (to our national disgrace be it said,) on board ofthe men-of-war in our naval service. Then, with his back all laceratedand bleeding, the miscreant was placed at work in the shop where cabinetmaking was carried on--that having been his occupation in the prison,previous to his escape; an occupation which he had learned, while a boy,within the walls of some penitentiary.
The convict applied himself to his labor with a look which only bespokea sullen apathy; but in his heart there raged a hell of evil passions.That night when he was locked in his cell, he slept not, but sat tillmorning endeavoring to devise some plan of escape.
The next day it chanced that he and another convict employed in thecabinet-maker's shop were engaged in packing furniture in large boxes tobe conveyed in a sloop to the city of New York. These boxes, as soon asthey were filled and nailed up, were carried down to the wharf, andstowed on board the sloop, which was to sail as soon as she was loaded.It instantly occurred to the Dead Man that these operations might affordhim a chance to escape; and he determined to attempt it, at all hazards.
Upon an elevated platform in the centre of the shop (which wasextensive) was stationed an overseer, whose duty it was to see that theconvicts attended strictly to their work, and held no communication witheach other. This officer had received special instructions from theWarden of the prison, to watch the Dead Man with all possible vigilance,and by no means to lose sight of him for a single moment, inasmuch ashis former escape had been accomplished through the inattention of theoverseer who had charge of him. Upon that occasion, he had watched for afavorable moment, slipped out of the shop unperceived, entered theWarden's dwelling house (which is situated within the walls of theprison) and helping himself to a suit of citizen's clothes, dressedhimself therein, and deliberately marched out of the front gate, beforethe eyes of half a dozen keepers and guards, who supposed him to be somegentleman visiting the establishment, his hideous and well-knownfeatures being partially concealed by the broad-brimmed hat of arespectable Quaker.
To prevent a repetition of that maneuver, and to detect any other whichmight be attempted by the bold and desperate ruffian, the overseer kepthis eyes almost constantly upon him, being resolved that no secondchance should be afforded him to 'take French leave.' The Dead Man soonbecame conscious that he was watched with extraordinary vigilance; hewas sagacious as well as criminal, and he deemed it to be good policy toassume the air of a man who was resigned to his fate, knowing it to beinevitable. He therefore worked with alacrity and endeavored to wearupon his villainous face an expression of contentment almost amountingto cheerfulness.
Near him labored a prisoner whose countenance indicated good-nature andcourage;--and to him the Dead Man said, in an almost inaudible whisper,but without raising his eyes from his work, or moving his lips:--
'My friend, there is something in your appearance which assures me thatyou can be trusted; listen to me with attention, but do not look towardsme. I am sentenced here for life: I am anxious to escape, and a plan hassuggested itself to my mind, but you must assist me--will you do it?'
'Yes, poor fellow, I will, if it lies in my power, provided you were notsent here for any offence which I disapprove of,' replied the other, ina similar tone. 'I was sentenced here for the term of seven years, formanslaughter; a villain seduced my daughter, and I shot him dead--thehonor of my child was worth a million of such accursed lives as his.--Iconsider myself guilty of no crime; he sacrificed my daughter to hislust, and then abandoned her--I sacrificed him to my vengeance, andnever regretted the deed. The term of imprisonment will expire the dayafter to-morrow, and I shall then be a free man; therefore, I can assistyou without running any great risk of myself. But you shall not have myaid if you were sent here for any deliberate villainy or blackcrime--for, thank God! I have a conscience, and that conscience permitsme, though a prisoner, to call myself an honest man.'
'Be assured,' whispered the Dead Man, perceiving the necessity of usinga falsehood to accomplish his ends--'that I am neither a deliberatevillain nor hardened criminal; an enemy attacked me, and in _selfdefense_ I slew him, for which I was sentenced here for life.'
'In that case,' rejoined the other--'I will cheerfully assist you toescape from this earthly hell--for self-defense is Nature's first law.Had you been a willful murderer, a robber, or aught of that kind, Iwould refuse to aid you--but the case is different.--But what is yourplan?'
'I will get into one of these boxes, and you will nail on the cover, andI shall be conveyed on board the sloop, which will sail in less than anhour hence. When the vessel arrives at New York I shall perhaps have anopportunity to get on shore unperceived, and escape into the city, whereI know of a place of refuge which the devil himself could notfind,'--and the Dead Man chuckled inwardly as he thought of the DarkVaults.
'The plan is a good one, and worthy of a trial,' said the other. 'Butthe overseer has his eye constantly upon you--how can you escape hisvigilance?'
'There's the only difficulty,' replied the Dead Man--and his subtlebrain was beginning to hatch some plan of surmounting that difficulty,when a large party of visitors, among whom were several ladies, enteredthe shop.
Now the overseer was a young man, and withal a tolerably good-lookingone; and among the ladies were two or three whose beauty commended themto his gallant attentions.
He therefore left his station on the platform, and went forward toreceive them, and make himself agreeable.
'Now's my time, by G----d!' whispered the Dead Man to his fellowprisoner; instantly he lay down in one of the boxes, and the othernailed on the cover securely. A few moments afterwards, the box whichcontained the Dead Man was carried down to the wharf, by two convicts,and placed on board the vessel.
Meanwhile, the overseer had become the oracle of the party of ladies andgentlemen who had visited the shop; surrounded by the group, he occupiedhalf an hour in replying to the many questions put to him, relative tothe prison discipline, and other matters connected with it. In answer toa question addressed to him concerning the character of those under hischarge, the overseer remarked in a tone of much self-complacency:
'I have now in this shop a convict who is the most diabolical villainthat ever was confined in this prison. He is called the Dead Man, fromthe fact that his countenance resembles that of a dead person. He wassentenced here for life, for a murder, but contrived to escape about ayear ago. However, he was arrested on a burglary not long since, sentback here, and placed under my particular care. I flatter myself that hewill not escape a second time. Step this way, ladies and gentlemen, andview the hideous criminal.'
With a smirk of satisfaction, the overseer presented his arm to a prettyyoung
lady, whose dark eyes had somewhat smitten him, and led the way tothe further end of the shop, followed by the whole party.
The Dead Man was nowhere to be seen!
'Hullo, here! Where the devil is that rascal gone?' cried the overseer,in great alarm, gazing wildly about him. 'Say, you fellows there, whereis the Dead Man?'
This inquiry, addressed to the convicts who were at work in that part ofthe shop, was answered by a general 'don't know, sir.'
With one exception they all spoke the truth; for only the man who hadnailed the Dead Man in the box, was cognizant of the affair, and he didnot choose to confess his agency in the matter. An instant search wasmade throughout the premises, but without success--and the officers ofthe prison were forced to arrive at the disagreeable conclusion that themiscreant had again given them the slip. Not one of them had suspectedthat he was nailed up in a box on board the sloop which was then on herway to New York. The Warden sent for the luckless overseer who hadcharge of the escaped convict, and sternly informed him that hisservices were no longer needed in that establishment; he added to thediscomfiture of the poor young man by darkly hinting his suspicions thathe (the overseer) had connived at the escape of the prisoner--but, asthe reader knows, this charge was unfounded and unjust.
The distance between Sing Sing and the city is not great: wind and tideboth being favorable, the vessel soon reached her place of destination,and was attached to one of the numerous wharves which extend around thecity. The boxes of furniture on board were immediately placed uponcarts, for conveyance to a large warehouse in Pearl street.
The tightness of the box in which the Dead Man was placed, produced nosmall inconvenience to that worthy, who during the passage was nearlysuffocated; however, he consoled himself with the thought that in ashort time he would be free. The box was about six feet in length; andtwo in breadth and depth; and in this narrow compass the villain felt asif he were in a coffin. He was greatly rejoiced when the men who wereunloading the vessel raised the box from the deck and carried it towardsone of the carts.
But oh, horrible! unconscious that there was a man in the box, theystood it upon one end, and the Dead Man was left _standing upon hishead_. The next moment the cart was driven rapidly over the roughpavement, towards the warehouse.
There were but two alternatives left for him--either to endure thetorments of that unnatural position until the box was taken from thecart, or to cry out for some one to rescue him, in which case, clothedas he was in the garb of the prison, he would be immediately recognizedas an escaped convict, and sent back to his old quarters. This latteralternative was so dreadful to him that he resolved to endure thetorture if possible; and he could not help shuddering when he thoughtthat perhaps he might be placed in the same position in the warehouse!
The drive from the wharf to Pearl street occupied scarce five minutes,yet during that brief period of time, the Dead man endured all thetorments of the damned. The blood settled in his head, and gushed fromhis mouth and nostrils; unable to hold out longer, he was about to yellin his agony for aid, when the cart stopped, and in a few moments he wasrelieved by his box being taken down and carried into the warehouse,where, to his inexpressible joy, it was placed in a position to causehim no further inconvenience. The warehouse being an extensive one, manypersons were employed in it; and he deemed it prudent to remain in hisbox until night, as the clerks and porters were constantly runningabout, and they would be sure to observe him if he issued from his placeof concealment then.
As he lay in his narrow quarters, he heard the voices of two personsconversing near him, one of whom was evidently the proprietor of theestablishment.
'We have just heard from Sing Sing,' said the proprietor--'that thevillain they call the Dead Man made his escape this morning, in whatmanner nobody knows. I am sorry for it, because such a wretch isdangerous to society; but my regret that he has escaped arisesprincipally from the fact that he is an excellent workman, and I, ascontractor, enjoyed the advantages of his labor, paying the State atrifle of thirty cents a day for him, when he could earn me two dollarsand a half. This system of convict labor is a glorious thing for usmaster mechanics, though it plays the devil with the journeymen. Why, Iformerly employed fifty workmen, who earned on an average two dollars aday; but since I contracted with the State to employ its convicts, thework which cost me one hundred dollars a day I now get for _fifteen_dollars.' And he laughed heartily.
'So it seems,' remarked the other,'that you are enriching yourself atthe expense of the State, while honest mechanics are thrown out ofemployment.'
'Precisely so,' responded the proprietor--'and if the _honestmechanics_, as you call them, wish to work for me, they must commit acrime and be sent to Sing Sing, where they can enjoy thatsatisfaction--ha, ha, ha.'
Just then, a poor woman miserably clad, holding in her hand a scrap ofpaper, entered the store, and advanced timidly to where the wealthyproprietor and his friend were seated.
The former, observing her, said to her in a harsh tone--
'There, woman, turn right around and march out, and don't come hereagain with your begging petition, or I'll have you taken up as avagrant.'
'If you please, sir,' answered the poor creature, humbly--'I haven'tcome to beg, but to ask if you won't be so kind as to pay this bill ofmy husband's. It's only five dollars, sir, and he is lying sick in bed,and we are in great distress from want of food and fire-wood. Since youdischarged him he has not been able to get work, and--'
'Oh, get out!' interrupted the wealthy proprietor, brutally--'don't comebothering _me_ with your distress and such humbug. I paid your husbandmore than he ought to have had--giving two dollars a day to a fellow,when I now get the same work for thirty cents! If you're in distress, goto the Poor House, but don't come here again--d'ye hear?'
The poor woman merely bowed her head in token of assent, and left thestore, her pale cheeks moistened with tears. The friend of the wealthyproprietor said nothing, but thought to himself, 'You're a d----dscoundrel.' And, reader, we think so too, though not in the habit ofswearing.
She had not proceeded two dozen steps from the store, when arough-looking man in coarse overalls touched her arm, and thus addressedher:
'Beg your pardon, ma'am, but I'm a porter in the store of that blastedrascal as wouldn't pay your poor husband's bill for his work, andtreated you so insultingly; I overheard what passed betwixt you and him,and I felt mad enough to go at him and _knock blazes_ out of him. Nomatter--every dog has his day, as the saying is; and he may yet bebrought to know what poverty is. I'm poor, but you are welcome to allthe money I've got in the world--take this, and God bless you.'
The noble fellow passed three or four dollars in silver into her hand,and walked away ere she could thank him.
The recording angel above opened the great Book wherein all humanactions are written, and affixed another _black mark_ to the name of thewealthy proprietor. There were many black marks attached to that namealready.
The angel then sought out another name, and upon it impressed the stampof a celestial seal. It was the name of the poor laborer.
Oh, laborer! Thou art uncouth to look upon: thy face is unshaven, thyshirt dirty, and lo! thy overalls smell of paint and grease; thy speechis ungrammatical, and thy manners unpolished--but give us the grasp ofthy honest hand, and the warm feelings of thy generous heart, fifty, yesa million times sooner than the mean heart and niggard hand of theselfish cur that calls itself thy master!
And oh, wealthy proprietor how smooth and smiling is thy face, howprecise thy dress and snow-white thy linen! thy words (except to thepoor,) are well-chosen and marked with strict grammaticalpropriety.--The world doffs its hat to thee, and calls thee'respectable,' and 'good.' Thou rotten-hearted villain!--morally thouart not fit to brush the cowhide boots of the MAN that thou callst thyservant! Out upon ye, base-soul'd wretch!
The countenance of the wealthy proprietor, which had assumed a severeand indignant expression at the woman's audacity, had just recovered itswonted smile o
f complacency, when a gentleman of an elderly age andreverend aspect entered the store. He was attired in a respectable suitof black, and his neck was enveloped in a white cravat.
'My dear Mr. Flanders,' said the proprietor, shaking him warmly by thehand, 'I am delighted to see you. Allow me to make you acquainted withmy friend, Mr. Jameson--the Rev. Balaam Flanders, our worthy and belovedpastor.'
The two gentlemen bowed, and the parson proceeded to unfold the objectof his visit.
'Brother Hartless,' said he to the proprietor, 'I have called upon youin behalf of a most excellent institution, of which I have the honor tobe President; I allude to the 'Society for Supplying Indigent and NakedSavages in Hindustan with Flannel Shirts.' The object of the Society,you perceive, is a most philanthropic and commendable one; everyChristian and lover of humanity should cheerfully contribute his mitetowards its promotion--Your reputation for enlightened views and noblegenerosity has induced me to call upon you to head the list of itspatrons--which list,' he added in a significant whisper, 'will bepublished in full in the _Missionary Journal and Cannibal's Friend_,that excellent periodical.'
'You do me honor,' replied Mr. Hartless, a flush of pride suffusing hisface; then, going to his desk, he wrote in bold characters, at the topof a sheet of paper--
'_Donations in aid of the Society for Supplying Indigent and Naked Savages in Hindustan with Flannel Shirts._
--Paul Hartless. $100.00'
This document he handed to the parson, with a look which clearly said'What do you think of that?' and then, producing his pocket-book, tookfrom thence a bank-note for one hundred dollars, which he presented tothe reverend gentleman, who received the donation with many thanks onbehalf of the 'Society for Supplying, &c.' and then left.
All this time the Dead Man lay in his box, impatiently awaiting thearrival of evening, when the store would be closed, and an opportunityafforded him to emerge from the narrow prison in which he was confined.Once, he came very near being discovered; for a person chanced to enterthe warehouse accompanied by a dog, and the animal began smelling aroundthe box in a manner that excited some surprise and remark on the part ofthose who observed it. The dog's acute powers of smell detected thepresence of some person in the box: fortunately, however, for the DeadMan, the owner of the four-legged inquisitor, having transacted hisbusiness, called the animal away, and left the store.
Mr. Hartless, in the course of some further desultory conversation withMr. Jameson, casually remarked--
'By the way, my policy of insurance expired yesterday, and I meant tohave it renewed today; however, tomorrow will answer just as well. But Imust not delay the matter, for this building is crammed from cellar toroof with valuable goods, and were it burnt down tonight, or before Irenew my insurance, I should be a beggar!'
The Dead Man heard this, and grinned with satisfaction. The day woreslowly away, and at last the welcome evening came; the hum of businessgradually ceased, and finally the last person belonging to thewarehouse, who remained, took his departure, having closed the shuttersand locked the door; then a profound silence reigned throughout thebuilding.
'Now I may venture to get out of this accursed box,' thought the escapedconvict:--and he tried to force off the cover, but to his disappointmentand alarm, he found that it resisted all his efforts. It had been tootightly nailed on to admit of its being easily removed.
'Damnation!' exclaimed the Dead Man, a thousand fears crowding into hismind,--'it's all up with me unless I can burst off this infernal cover.'And, cursing the man who had fastened it on so securely, he redoubledhis efforts.
He succeeded at last; the cover flew off, and he arose from hisconstrained and painful position with feelings of the most intensesatisfaction. All was pitch dark, and he began groping around for somedoor or window which would afford him egress from the place. His handsoon came in contact with a window; he raised the sash, and unfastenedthe shutters, threw them open, when instantly a flood of moonlightstreamed into the store, enabling him to discern objects with tolerabledistinctness. The window, which was not over five feet from the ground,overlooked a small yard surrounded by a fence of no great height; andthe Dead Man, satisfied with the appearance of things, proceeded to putinto execution a plan which he had formed while in the box. The natureof that plan will presently appear.
After breaking open a desk, and rummaging several drawers withoutfinding anything worth carrying off, he took from his pocket a match,and being in a philosophical mood, (for great rascals are generallyprofound philosophers,) he apostrophized it thus:
'Is it not strange, thou little morsel of wood, scarce worth thefiftieth fraction of a cent, that in thy tiny form doth dwell a MightyPower, which can destroy thousands of dollars, and pull down the greatfabric of a rich man's fortune? Thy power I now invoke, thou littleminister of vengeance; for I hate the aristocrat who expressed hisregret at my escape, because, forsooth! my services were valuable tohim!--and now, as the flames of fire consume his worldly possessions, somay the flames of eternal torment consume his soul hereafter!'
Ah, Mr. Hartless! that was an unfortunate observation you made relativeto the expiration of your term of insurance. Your words were overheardby a miscreant, whose close proximity you little suspected. Yourabominable treatment of that poor man is about to meet with a terribleretribution.
The Dead Man placed a considerable quantity of paper beneath a largepile of boxes and furniture; he then ignited the match, and having setfire to the paper, made his exit through the window, crossed the yard,scaled the fence, and passing through an alley gained the street, andmade the best of his way to the Dark Vaults.
In less than ten minutes after he had issued from that building, fierceand crackling flames were bursting forth from its doors and windows. Thestreets echoed with the cry of _Fire_--the deep-toned bell of the CityHall filled the air with its notes of solemn warning and the fireengines thundered over the pavement towards the scene of conflagration.But in vain were the efforts of the firemen to subdue the raging flames;higher and higher they rose, until the entire building was on fire,belching forth mingled flame, and smoke, and showers of sparks. Atlength the interior of the building was entirely consumed, and thetottering walls fell in with a tremendous crash. The extensive warehouseof Mr. Paul Hartless, with its valuable contents, no longer existed, buthad given place to a heap of black and smoking ruins!
The reader is now acquainted with the manner of the Dead Man's escapefrom Sing Sing State Prison, and the circumstances connected with thatevent.
City Crimes; Or, Life in New York and Boston Page 12
