They will
hang almost anybody Haman-high, or even higher than that. They
do not exactly hang their murderer before they catch him, but the
two events occur in such close succession that one can readily
understand why a confusion should have arisen in the public mind
on these points. First of all, though, they catch him; and then
some morning between ten and twelve they try him. This is a brief
and businesslike formality. While the judge is looking in a drawer
of his desk to see whether the black cap is handy the bailiffs
shoo twelve tradesmen into the jury box. A tradesman is generally
chosen for jury service because he is naturally anxious to get the
thing over and hurry back to his shop before his helper goes to
lunch. The judge tells the jurors to look on the prisoner, because
he is going away shortly and is not expected back; so they take
full advantage of the opportunity, realizing it to be their last
chance. Then, in order to comply with the forms, the judge asks
the accused whether he is guilty or not guilty, and the jurors
promptly say he is. His Worship, concurring heartily, fixes the
date of execution for the first Friday morning when the hangman has
no other engagements. It is never necessary to postpone this event
through failure of the condemned to be present. He is always there;
there is no record of his having disappointed an audience. So,
on the date named, rain or shine, he is hanged very thoroughly;
but after the hanging is over they write songs and books about him
and revere his memory forevermore.
Our guide was pleased to introduce us to the late Mr. Charles
Pease, as done in paraffin, with creped hair and bright, shiny
glass eyes. Mr. Pease was undoubtedly England's most fashionable
murderer of the past century and his name is imperishably enshrined
in the British affections. The guide spoke of his life and works
with deep and sincere feeling. He also appeared to derive unfeigned
pleasure from describing the accomplishments of another murderer,
only slightly less famous than the late Mr. Pease. It seemed that
this murderer, after slaying his victim, set to dismembering the
body and boiling it. They boil nearly everything in England. But
the police broke in on him and interrupted the job.
Our attention was directed to a large chart showing the form of
the victim, the boiled portions being outlined in red and the
unboiled portions in black. Considered as a murderer solely this
particular murderer may have been deserving of his fame; but when
it came to boiling, that was another matter. He showed poor
judgment there. It all goes to show that a man should stick to
his own trade and not try to follow two or more widely dissimilar
callings at the same time. Sooner or later he is bound to slip up.
We found Stratford-upon-Avon to be the one town in England where
guides are really abundant. There are as many guides in Stratford
as there are historic spots. I started to say that there is at
least one guide in Stratford for every American who goes there;
but that would be stretching real facts, because nearly every
American who goes to England manages to spend at least a day in
Stratford, it being a spot very dear to his heart. The very name
of it is associated with two of the most conspicuous figures in
our literature. I refer first to Andrew Carnegie; second to William
Shakspere. Shakspere, who wrote the books, was born here; but
Carnegie, who built the libraries in which to keep the books, and
who has done some writing himself, provided money for preserving
and perpetuating the relics.
We met a guide in the ancient schoolhouse where the Bard - I am
speaking now of William, not of Andrew - acquired the rudiments of
his education; and on duty at the old village church was another
guide, who for a price showed us the identical gravestone bearing
the identical inscription which, reproduced in a design of burnt
wood, is to-day to be found on the walls of every American household,
however humble, whose members are wishful of imparting an artistic
and literary atmosphere to their home. A third guide greeted us
warmly when we drove to the cottage, a mile or two from the town,
where the Hathaway family lived. Here we saw the high-backed
settle on which Shakspere sat, night after night, wooing Anne
Hathaway. I myself sat on it to test it. I should say that the
wooing could not have been particularly good there, especially for
a thin man. That settle had a very hard seat and history does not
record that there was a cushion. Shakspere's affections for the
lady must indeed have been steadfast. Or perhaps he was of stouter
build than his pictures show him to have been.
Guides were scattered all over the birthplace house in Stratford
in the ratio of one or more to each room. Downstairs a woman guide
presided over a battery of glass cases containing personal belongings
of Shakspere's and documents written by him and signed by him.
It is conceded that he could write, but he certainly was a mighty
poor speller. This has been a failing of many well-known writers.
Chaucer was deficient in this regard; and if it were not for a
feeling of personal modesty I could apply the illustration nearer
home.
Two guides accompanied us as we climbed the stairs to the low-roofed
room on the second floor where the creator of Shylock and Juliet
was born - or was not born, if you believe what Ignatius Donnelly
had to say on the subject. But would it not be interesting and
valued information if we could only get the evidence on this point
of old Mrs. Shakspere, who undoubtedly was present on the occasion?
A member of our party, an American, ventured to remark as much to
one of the guides; but the latter did not seem to understand him.
So the American told him just to keep thinking it over at odd
moments, and that he would be back again in a couple of years, if
nothing happened, and possibly by that time the guide would have
caught the drift of his observation.
