Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 February 1882 — THE GUITEAU TRIAL. [ARTICLE]

THE GUITEAU TRIAL.

FIFTIETH DAY. The assassin was given the fiftieth day of his trial to address the jury. He said : “ The prosecution pretend that I am a wicked man ; Mr. Scoville and the rest think I am a lunatic ; and I presume you think I am. I certainly was a lunatic July 2, when I fired on the President and the American people generally, and I presume you think I was. Can you imagine anything more insane than my going to that depot and shooqug the President of the United States ? You are here to say whether I was sane or insane at the moment! fired that shot You have nothing to do with my condition before or since that shot was fired. You must say by your verdict sane or insane at the moment the shot was tired. If you have any doubt of my sanity at the moment you must give me the benefit of the doubt and acquit—that is, if you nave any doubt whether I fired that shot as the agent of the Deity. If I fired it on my own account I was sane ; if I fired it, supposing myself to be the agent of the Deity, I was insane, and you must acquif.” With this introduction the prisoner took up a newspaper and proceeded to read to the jury his published speech. His manner to the casual observer seemed completely self-possessed as usual, but behind the ostentatious affectation of composure was intense feeling, which was ouly held in control through his undoubted strength of will. His excitement was betrayed by a slight hectic spot, high upon each cheek, of his usually colorless face, and by the unusual deliberation with which he began and for some time continued’ to speak. Whether this excitement was from merely superficial effect upon his emotions, naturally incident to the occasion, or whether it proceeded from a deeper and more overpowering influence, the true realization of his position, an almost-convicted murderer pleading for his life, it were difficult to divine. Whatever the original character of feeling, it finally gained the ascendency over his powers of control, and as he reached that point in his speech—“l have always served the Lord, and whether I live or die”—he broke down completely, stopped, tried to choke down the rising lump in his throat, but found it impossible to keep back a genuine sob. Taking out his handkerchief, he buried his face in it for a few seconds, wiped his eyes, and with a determined effort started on again. He seemed to recover his composure so quickly that some believed the whole effort was manufactured. His sister, Mrs. Scoville, however, apparently thought otherwise. She was deeply affected, and wept and sobbed bitterly for some minutes. After this incident Guiteau continued to read, occasionally adding brief comments upon the text. As he proceeded with his reading all appearance of nervousness gradually wore off, and, w th the utmost composure and an unction that bordered upon the ludicrous, the prisoner read on with an attempt at every conceivable form of oratorical and dramatic effect. His description of the taking off of the President was given with striking effect. At this time he closed his eyes or turned them heavenward, waved his body baek and forth, sank his voice to a whisper or raised it to a high treble. At times the intensity of his utterances seemed to react upon himself, but the effect was but transitory, and with the exception of one instance there was no indication of breaking down. At frequent intervals he paused to emphasize some sentence or sentiment by repeating it or commenting upon it. At one time, pausing, he leaned toward the jury and, emphasizing with his head and hands, said, with an attempt at great solemnity of utterance: “I tell you, gentlemen, just as sure as there is a God in heaven, if you harm a hair of my head this nation will go down in blood. You can put my body in the grave, but there will be a day of reckoning.” “ The jury may put my body in the ground, but my soul will go marching on. The slaveholders put John Brown’s body in the ground, but his soul goes marching on.” Here he chanted most weirdly one stanza of “John Brown’s Body,” closing with “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!” FIFTY-FIRST DAY. The assassin began proceedings by announcing the receipt of several hundred letters, many of them tender missives from ladies. He then informed the audience that he did not think it proper that he should accept a Cabinet office from President Arthur, and that he would stop Judge Porter should he attempt to mislead the jury. Judge Porter then commenced the closing argument to the jury for tlie'prosecution. He opened with the remark that thus far the trial had practically been conducted by the prisoner and Mr. Scoville, and every one had been denounced at their will. He proceeded to sketch the career of the assassin as a beggar, a hypocrite and a scoundrel, and to depict the horrors of his crime. As Judge Porter proceeded with a resistless torrent of denunciation and invective, the prisoner occasionally called out: “That’s a lie!” “ That’s absolutely false;” or, “That ain’t so.” Passing in review the principal events of the prisoner’s life, Judge Porter showed up in all its hideous deformity the infamous bent of nis nature. Aliuding to his dispute with his brother, John W. Guiteau, in Boston, where he struck the latter iu the face, Judge Porter said this was the first and last time this coward ever struck any one a blow in the face. His coward hand always struck from behind. After showing who and wbat was the murderer, judge .rorcer next aescunea ms victim, paying a glowing tribute to the character and services of the lamented President, and pronouncing a most touching eulogy, as it were, on bis memory. The claims oi the prisoner to be a praying man were considered, and the hollow mockery of the claim shown. Guiteau angrily shouted : ••1 pray every night and morning and before every meal. If you did the same you would be a better man. You wouldn’t be here looking for blood-money.” “ The prisoner says he prayed for six weeks. Why, if he had made up his mind unalterably to murder the President on the Ist of June,” said Judge Porter, “did he still continue to pray down to the very act of murder? ” Guiteau—“l prayed to see if the Lord wouldn’t let me off from kilting him.” “ What was he praying for ?” continued Judge Porter. “ The man who claimed to have received divine inspiration himself prepares his defense in advance for an act to do which he was divinely inspired. The believer in inspiration, he would himself alter the inspired book and substitute for it a book of his own. That he did not shoot the President on the first occasion,” said Judge Porter, “was due to his coward heart. Had he done it on that occasion he would have been torn to pieces, and he knew it. On this occasion the President was surrounded by his Oaoinet and his friends. His son, not yet strong, but who would have been urged at such a time with a God-given strength to defend his father, was also by bis side, and the assassin’s craven heart failed him and he said, ‘ Not yet; at some other t rue.’ ” witn grapmc picturing Judge Porter related the dogging of the President’s footsteps to the little churdn, the incidents or accidents on each occasion which baffled iiim. President Garfield’s visit to Secretary Blaine’s house, dogged by the assassin, was vividly portrayed. In the course of his speech Judge Porter adverted to the constant interruptions of the prisoner, his false claims of sympathy, and that the press was with him, and said in contradiction: “ I have yet to see a single American newspaper that has one word to say in his defense.” Scoville vainly strove to get the ear of the court, protesting that Judge Porter was exceeding the rules of the court by such statements. At length Judge Porter paused, and Scoville demanded that he be allowed to make similar statements in reply. Judge Porter attempted to go on, but Scoville, reinforced by the clamor of the prisoner, succeeded in getting tjie floor, when, with much excitement, he demanded that his rights, and he claimed that he had rights, should be respected. He insisted that Judge Porter had no right to state what the newspapers said or what they didn’t say, and he desired an exceptionally noted. Col. Corkhili insisted that counsel had no right to object. The prisoner had been allowed to state what he had received in the way of letters. He had been permitted to read them, to read extracts from papers and to make all sorts of statements as to what the American people and press were saying of him. Judge Porter was simply contradicting these statements. Judge Cox intimated that the prisoner was not allowed to do as charged, but could not be restrained from doing so. Scoville—“ Well, can’t Judge Porter be restrained?” The Judge ruled that the speaker might contradict assertions of the kind made by the prisoner. Judge Porter then read from printed evidence several of the more noted examples of this effort on the part of the prisoner to deceive the jury.

FIFTY-SECOND DAY. As Judge Porter rose to resume his address, he assassin shouted out that two cranks had eon hanging around the court-room, and if they undertake to harm him they will be shot down. Judge Porter opened by the assertion teat the wuole defense has been an imposture. Wneu he spoke of the destruction of the notes of Stenographer Bailey, Mr. Scoville demanded to be heard, and Mr. Beed expressed the opinion that the court should arrest Judge Porter lor contempt. Allusion having been made to Pres.uent Ar thur, Guiteau interrupted with the ooasl that his inspiration placed Arthur in the While House, adding, “And don’t you forget it, Judge Porter.” Replying to this taunt from ti.e prisoner, Judge Porter described him as slippery as an orange peel, as venomous as a rattieuake, and, speaking of the act of the murder, said tins was a rattlesnake without a rattle, but not without fangs. J udge Porter pointed out the cunning, the dupucity, tue acting of tne prisoner since the beginning of the trial. Reterring to the oft-re-peuted assertion that he had sent Garfield prepared to meet his God, and he (Guiteau), too, was ready to die if God willed it, Judge Porter, with deliberate emphasis, said: “I do not believe, in all this assemblage, there is one soul Ln at contemplates with such abject terror the possibility of f icing his Maker as does this brazen murderer.” Guiteau whirled around with the ferocity oi a wild beast and fairly yeued: “ That's a miserable iie and you know it, Porter, and you are an infernal scoundrel 1 I hope God Almighty will send for you soon, both you and Corkmil. Sucti a miserable, sneaking whine as that isl” “Thelaw,” Said Judge Porter, “asit bears upon this case, is the Supreme Court, and you are but simply God-made men, under the obligation of a solemn oath to bring in your verdict under tlie law and facts.” Bumming up the question presented by the case upon which they were soon to be called upon topass, Judge Porter said:’ “The first question for you to consider is: Was the prisoner insane on the 2d of July? If he was not, the case is at an end, and your sworn duty is ended. Second, if you reach that, if he was insane on that day, was he insane to that degree that on the 2d or July he did not know that murder was morally and legally wrong? If he was not insane to Chut degree, you are bound under your oaths to convict him. Third, if in utter disregard of bis confession under oath you shall find that he actually aud honestly believed that God had commanded him to kill President Garfield, and that he was under that delusion, unless you find the further lact that the delusion disabled him from knowing such act was morally and legally wrong, you are bound by your oaths to convict him. Fourth, if you find such delusion hid not exist: chat God commanded him to do tne act, and that the delusion was the sole product of insanity, then, and then ouly, you cau acquit him—when you find he was unable to control his own will—a nd jou must remember that under oath he lias sworn he was able to control it, for he said had Mrs. Garfield been with him at the depot on the 2d ot July I would not have shot him. ■ Filth, if you find that even though lie was partially insane it resulted from his own malignity, his’ own depravity ; yet still you are bound, under the instructions of the court, to convict him. Sixth, if upon the whole case you have no reasonable doubt whether he was partially or wholly insane, if you believe that he knew his act was legally and morally wrong, you are, under your oaths, bound to convict him. The law is founded upon reason, and it must not be said that an American jury shall override law and establish a principle which will let murder and rape and arson ran not through the land. FIITY-THIBD AND LAST DAY. As usual, Guiteau opened proceedings in court by announcing : “My sister has been doing some silly talk in Chicago. She means well; but she’s no lawyer.” Judge Porter immediately resumed his argument. Reading from the evidence of J. W. Guiteau aud commenting upon it, -Judge Porter said of the prisoner: “He has two faces.” Guiteau—“ How many have you got ?” Judge Porter—“He has two faces—one showing the sanctity of a pharisee, and the other the hideous grin of the fiend that possesses him.” Ah ho continued to read from J. W. Guiteau’s testimony, relative to hte last interview with the prisoner,’ Guiteau continually interrupted with such comments as: “What I say is always true, Judge Porter. What you say is generally false.’’ “ Inever said so.” “ That is absolutey false.” ’ Proceeding, Judge Porter contrasted the life, conduct and deceits ul practices of the prisoner with the Apostle Paul, in the light of the pi lsoner,s assumption that he, like Paul, was honestly engaged in doing the Lord’s werk. Paul never palmed off brass watches for gold. “ Neither did I, - ’ spoke Guiteau. “Paul never swindled his creditors out of theirjlistdues.” “ Oh, you are a blood man,” retaliated Guiteau. “You belong to the Judas tribe.” Hie picture drawn by Judge Porter was anything but a lovely one, and provoked the prisoner to the most abusive retorts. “ you're a liar, and you know it; and I tell you so to your face, Judge Porter!” he called out. As Judge Porter continued his arraignment of the prisoner, Guiteau winced and nervously i wisted in his seat, and finally drowned the voice of Judge Porter, who gave way to his slaiuor. In savage tones he shouted : “A aaint from heaven couldn’t stand the abuse of that man Porter, and I won’t stand it. I will reueve my mind. The idea of this man trying to make me out a fighting man, a man of bad character, and all that. It’s a he, aud he knows it He’s a liar, and I’ll call him so.” The interruptions of the prisoner grew in violence and frequency till, reinforced by an objection of Scoville, the clamor and din for the moment resembled a small Babel. Scoville finally made himself heard and desired an exception noted to the statement of the construction put ou the evidence by Judge Porter. A sharp discussion ensued, during which the prisoner made himself heard from tue dock, shouting : “ It’s an outrage lor that man to be allowed to speak. He ought to be under arrest tor his insolence. It iias been nothing but one stream of abuse from him all morning. It’s enough to provoke a saint from heaven. It's a disgrace upon a court of justice.” . Judge Porter compared the prisoner to Wilkes Booth, and showed the latter to be almost a-patriot compared with the cowardly assassin now ou trial. “ For Booth was actuated by a mistaken motive of patriotism, and was a man of manhood and manliness. But this sneaking, cowardly wretch, who could plan for his victim’s death aud his own safety at the same time, murdered his man for revenge aud for notoriety.” Guiteau—“ I shot my man in broad daylightand don’t you forget it, Porter.” Pressing the assertion that Guiteau was actuated by revenge and a desire for notoriety, Judge Porter compared him to a noted Criminal iu Europe. “I don’t recall his name,” said Judge Porter, , “but he said: ‘ I am the ugliest man in Europe.’ “1 would rather be the ugliest man in Europe and have notoriety tnan remain in the ranks of mediocrity.” For the next half hour there was one continual stream of interruptions aud abuse from the prisoner. A score of times he denounced Judge Porter as a liar, varying the expressions as adjectives suggested themselves. His vindictive disposition showed itself as never before, and lor once his cunning was merged into his angry spite, and, as Judge Porter piled up an Ossa of invectives upon the Pelion of denunciation, the prisoner unwittingly emphasized and corroborated the diagnosis of depravity and wicked-heartedness which counsel was, with such telling effect, pronouncing upon him. “ You know that’s all an absolute, desperate, wicked, devilish lie,” finally shouted Guiteau, stammering with rage. Judge Porter, in closing, said : “ Gentlemen, the time has coma when I must close. The Government has presented its case before you, and we have endeavored to discharge our duty to the best of our ability. His Honor has endeavored to discharge his. I know you will be faithlul to your oattis and discharge yours. So discharge it that, by your action, at least, political assassination shall find no sanction to make it a precedent ' hereafter. He who has ordained that human life shall be shielded by human law from human crime presides over your deliberations, aud the verdict which shall be given or withheld to-day will be recorded where we all have to appear. I trust that the verdict will be prompt, that it will represent the majesty of the law, your integrity and the honor of the country • and that this trial, which has so deeply interested all the nations of the earth, may result in a warning (to reach all lands) that political murder shall not be used as a means of promoting party ends or political revolutions. I trust also the time shall come in consequence of the attention that shall be called to the considerations growing out of this trial when, by an international arrangement between the various Governments, the law shall be so strengthened that political assassins shall find no refuge on the face of the earth.”

Judge Cox then proceeded to charge the jury. He instructed them to pay no heed to the statements made by the prisoner as to public sentiment in his case, the only question being that of guilt or innocence. The jury spent thirty minutes in reaching a verdict of guilty. The assassin passed the time in a small waiting-room, and predicted his acquittal. When brought back to the dock he showed unusual palter, but no nervousness. When the verdict was announced, he cried out: “My blood will be upon the heads of that jury, and don’t you forget it.” The audience shouted itself hoarse in approval of the conviction. Mr. Scoville at once gave notice of a motion for a new trial Guiteau said: “God will avenge this outrage.” Judge Cox paid the highest compliment to the jury. When the assassin was put in the van the crowd hooted until he was out of sight Juror I.ongley’a Story. Longley, the fourth j uror impaneled, in telling the story of the verdict, said : “We were not long in getting our verdict ready. We were fifty minutes absent from the court-room, and halt an hour of that time was taken up in reading the indictment We took two ballots. On the first we Mood eleven for oonvtction and one blank. That was cast by the German, who was a little doubtful on one point and wanted to be instructed. He didn’t understand the instructions as to the question of insanity thoroughly. It only took a moment to satisfy him. aud then, when a ballot was taken, we were unanimous for conviction.” He was asked if he had heard that the public were for a time fearful that one of the jurors was going to hang the jury. He said -. “Yes, I have heard that since I left the court-room. We thought ourselves, fur a while, that one man would stand out against all the others, but it was only for a time. We didn’t express any opinions to each other during the time, but I think we all knew pretty well what the general feeling was.” Being asked to give some idea as to how the events of the trial impressed the jury, particularly the interruptions of Guiteau and the speeches, he said: “It was all very tedious. There was so much that was gone over and over again. The lawyers kept telling us, day after day, of things we were tired of hearing. We didn’t mind Guiteau’s interruptions, and we understood that Judge Cox was giving him liberty so as not to have another trial As to the speeches, I think Judge Porter’s impressed the jury the most, but then none of the lawyers’ speeches had any influence with us. We made up our minds from the evidence and from the instructions. We listened to Scoville with interest He did ven well, ahd stood up for Guiter.u manfully ; but he cotildn’t make anything out of the case. Judge Cox’s instructions were clear and to the point. There was no mistaking them.” Longley was asktd what his personal opinion of Guiteau was. He replied: “I think he is a fanatic, but he is morally responsible for his actions. 1 have known lots or people who were fanatics, and they imagined all sorts of strange things. But they knew when they were doing what was wrong, and were accountable for it. We heard a great deal about moral depravity during the trial aud about illusions. I have met some wicked people, and they have had all sorts of illusions; but if they killed a man I would have held them responsible. Guiteau may imagine things, but our instructions were, if we thought he knew the nature of his act, to bring him in guilty, and we did so.” Longley was asked what effect the statements made by Guiteau that the press and public were on his’ Bide had upon the jury, and answered:__i‘They made no impression upon us J - We knew he was not telling the truth any more than when he said ue had received a check for $25,000.” In conclusion, Longley said : “ Guiteau’s prophecies have not come out true. He said that the Deity would clear him, if to do so would necessitate the taking away of a juryman. We all lived, and we didn’t clear him. He wished for it. I have no doubt, but none of us died, although one or two of us were quite sick at times.” Mr. Longley also said that the jury were ven tired after their ten weeks-of seclusion without books, papers or company, and for his part he didn’t want another such trial. Interviews have been had with other jurors, and they tell similar stories. How iflrs. Garfield Received tlie News of the Verdict. A Cleveland dispatch states that Mrs. Garfield and the dead President’s aged mother were at home when the first intimation came in the shape of a dispatch from Capt Henry at Washington. When a reporter called, three hours later, Mrs. Garfield was quite quiet and composed, but said that she had nothing to say in the line of comment for the public. It is said that she has read no report of the trial, and has kept the subject as much out of mind as possible. A Cleveland journal, one of whose editors called on Mrs. Garfield after the receipt of the news, says: “The finding of the jury was immediately telegraphed from Washington to the family of the dead President. The widow and the mother of the illustrious victim had anticipated no other result. They could not bring themselves to believe that justice would fail to overtake the vile reptile whose infamous deed had overwhelmed them with grief. But they are women whose hearts are too full of sorrow to have room for revengeful feelings, and the news of the conviction of Guiteau comes to them rather as the vindication of natural justice than as the avenging of personal wrongs. They do not see how the result of the trial could have been different. They accept it as a foregone conclusion and more important to the public, who will have other Presidents to guard and protect, than to themselves, whose great stay and reliane* was so causelessly taken from them.” How The Verdict Was Received. The verdict of the jury was received with great satisfaction throughout the country. A salute of fifty guns was fired at Madison, Ind. In Detroit, Mich., when the audience in the opera-house applauded the verdict, one fellow hissed aud was promptly_thrown out of the house 'well 'pummelea for his temerity. A London dispatch says that “ ail the newspapers not only express one opinion as to tiio justice of the verdict, but are certain it will be unanimously approved, Scoville says the result was no Hurprise to him after he heard the charge of Judge Cox. John W. Guiteau still believes the assassin insane, but sees no escape from execution. The Assassin Issues Another Address. On the day after his conviction Guiteau, the assassin, sent to the press another “ address to the American people,” in which he arraigns the character of the jurors, especially charging that they were not “ high-toned, Christian gentlemen,” and therefore “did not appreciate the dea of inspiration’.” He demes the authority of the court which tried him, relies upon the Deity, but, as usual, makes a demand for money. He looks for a reversal of the verdict by the court in banc. The following is the closing portion of the assassin’s blasphemous screed: “lam God s manmthis matter, just as truly as the despised Galiilecajx was God’s man. They said He was a blasphemer and a glutton, etc., etc., and it seemed a small thing for His acquaintances to kill Him. But His death stirred tue wrath of the and He got even with them forty years later at the destraction of Jerusalem, A. D. 70, and He will get even with the American people if a hair of my head is harmed. God will vindicate me, even if the nation rolls in blood. Mv physical death is nothing to me. Under the law I canuot be executed, in any event, until July. I may die a dozen times before then ; so I have no trouble about that. I shall not go before my time. I had rather be hung, so far as physical death is concerned, than die from painful illness or meet with a railroad or steamboat accident. I hardly think lam destined to be hung, and therefore give myself no thought on that But lam anxious to have my character and inspiration vindicated. To that end I need help, as herein mentioned. My friends need not be ashamed of me. Some people think I am the greatest man of this age, and that my name will go into history as a patriot by the side of Washington and Grant.”