by W. H. Rhodes
I.
_THE CASE OF SUMMERFIELD._
The following manuscript was found among the effects of the lateLeonidas Parker, in relation to one Gregory Summerfield, or, as he wascalled at the time those singular events first attracted public notice,"The Man with a Secret." Parker was an eminent lawyer, a man of firmwill, fond of dabbling in the occult sciences, but never allowing thistendency to interfere with the earnest practice of his profession. Thisastounding narrative is prefaced by the annexed clipping from the"Auburn Messenger" of November 1, 1870:
A few days since, we called public attention to the singular conduct of James G. Wilkins, justice of the peace for the "Cape Horn" district, in this county, in discharging without trial a man named Parker, who was, as we still think, seriously implicated in the mysterious death of an old man named Summerfield, who, our readers will probably remember, met so tragical an end on the line of the Central Pacific Railroad, in the month of October last. We have now to record another bold outrage on public justice, in connection with the same affair. The grand jury of Placer County has just adjourned, without finding any bill against the person named above. Not only did they refuse to find a true bill, or to make any presentment, but they went one step further toward the exoneration of the offender: they specially _ignored_ the indictment which our district attorney deemed it his duty to present. The main facts in relation to the arrest and subsequent discharge of Parker may be summed up in few words:
It appears that, about the last of October, one Gregory Summerfield, an old man nearly seventy years of age, in company with Parker, took passage for Chicago, _via_ the Pacific Railroad, and about the middle of the afternoon reached the neighborhood of Cape Horn, in this county. Nothing of any special importance seems to have attracted the attention of any of the passengers toward these persons until a few moments before passing the dangerous curve in the track, overlooking the North Fork of the American River, at the place called Cape Horn. As our readers are aware, the road at this point skirts a precipice, with rocky perpendicular sides, extending to the bed of the stream, nearly seventeen hundred feet below. Before passing the curve, Parker was heard to comment upon the sublimity of the scenery they were approaching, and finally requested the old man to leave the car and stand upon the open platform, in order to obtain a better view of the tremendous chasm and the mountains just beyond. The two men left the car, and a moment afterwards a cry of horror was heard by all the passengers, and the old man was observed to fall at least one thousand feet upon the crags below. The train was stopped for a few moments, but, fearful of a collision if any considerable length of time should be lost in an unavailing search for the mangled remains, it soon moved on again, and proceeded as swiftly as possible to the next station. There the miscreant Parker was arrested, and conveyed to the office of the nearest justice of the peace for examination. We understand that he refused to give any detailed account of the transaction, only that "the deceased either fell or was thrown off from the moving train."
The examination was postponed until the arrival of Parker's counsel, O'Connell & Kilpatrick, of Grass Valley, and after they reached Cape Horn not a single word could be extracted from the prisoner. It is said that the inquisition was a mere farce; there being no witnesses present except one lady passenger, who, with commendable spirit, volunteered to lay over one day, to give in her testimony. We also learn that, after the trial, the justice, together with the prisoner and his counsel, were closeted in secret session for more than two hours; at the expiration of which time the judge resumed his seat upon the bench, and discharged the prisoner!
Now, we have no desire to do injustice toward any of the parties to this singular transaction, much less to arm public sentiment against an innocent man. But we do affirm that _there is, there must be_, some profound mystery at the bottom of this affair, and we shall do our utmost to fathom the secret.
Yes, there is a secret and mystery connected with the disappearance ofSummerfield, and the sole object of this communication is to clear itup, and place myself right in the public estimation. But, in order to doso, it becomes essentially necessary to relate all the circumstancesconnected with my first and subsequent acquaintance with Summerfield. Todo this intelligibly, I shall have to go back twenty-two years.
It is well known amongst my intimate friends that I resided in the lateRepublic of Texas for many years antecedent to my immigration to thisState. During the year 1847, whilst but a boy, and residing on thesea-beach some three or four miles from the city of Galveston, JudgeWheeler, at that time Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Texas, paidus a visit, and brought with him a gentleman, whom he had known severalyears previously on the Sabine River, in the eastern part of that State.This gentleman was introduced to us by the name of Summerfield. At thattime he was past the prime of life, slightly gray, and inclined tocorpulency. He was of medium height, and walked proudly erect, as thoughconscious of superior mental attainments. His face was one of thosewhich, once seen, can never be forgotten. The forehead was broad, high,and protuberant. It was, besides, deeply graven with wrinkles, andaltogether was the most intellectual that I had ever seen. It bore someresemblance to that of Sir Isaac Newton, but still more to Humboldt orWebster. The eyes were large, deep-set, and lustrous with a light thatseemed kindled in their own depths. In color they were gray, and whilstin conversation absolutely blazed with intellect. His mouth was large,but cut with all the precision of a sculptor's chiseling. He was ratherpale, but, when excited, his complexion lit up with a sudden rush ofruddy flushes, that added something like beauty to his half-sad andhalf-sardonic expression. A word and a glance told me at once, this is amost extraordinary man.
Judge Wheeler knew but little of the antecedents of Summerfield. He wasof Northern birth, but of what State it is impossible to say definitely.Early in life he removed to the frontier of Arkansas, and pursued forsome years the avocation of village schoolmaster. It was the suggestionof Judge Wheeler that induced him to read law. In six months' time hehad mastered Story's Equity, and gained an important suit, based uponone of its most recondite principles. But his heart was not in the legalprofession, and he made almost constant sallies into the fields ofscience, literature and art. He was a natural mathematician, and was themost profound and original arithmetician in the Southwest. He frequentlycomputed the astronomical tables for the almanacs of New Orleans,Pensacola and Mobile, and calculated eclipse, transit and observationswith ease and perfect accuracy. He was also deeply read in metaphysics,and wrote and published, in the old _Democratic Review_ for 1846, anarticle on the "Natural Proof of the Existence of a Deity," that forbeauty of language, depth of reasoning, versatility of illustration, andcompactness of logic, has never been equaled. The only otherpublication which at that period he had made, was a book that astonishedall of his friends, both in title and execution. It was called "TheDesperadoes of the West," and purported to give minute details of thelives of some of the most noted duelists and blood-stained villains inthe Western States. But the book belied its title. It is full ofsplendid description and original thought. No volume in the languagecontains so many eloquent passages and such gorgeous imagery, in thesame space. His plea for immortality, on beholding the execution of oneof the most noted culprits of Arkansas, has no parallel in any livinglanguage for beauty of diction and power of thought. As my sole objectin this communication is to defend myself, some acquaintance with themental resources of Summerfield is absolutely indispensable; for hisdeath was the immediate consequence of his splendid attainments. Ofchemistry he was a complete master. He describes it in his article on aDeity, above alluded to, as the "Youngest Daughter of the Sciences, bornamid flames, and cradled in rollers of fire." If there were any onescience to which he was more specially devoted than to any and allothers, it was chemistry. But he really seemed an adept in all, andshone about everywhere with equal lustre.
Many o
f these characteristics were mentioned by Judge Wheeler at thetime of Summerfield's visit to Galveston, but others subsequently cameto my knowledge, after his retreat to Brownsville, on the banks of theRio Grande. There he filled the position of judge of the District Court,and such was his position just previous to his arrival in this city inthe month of September of the past year.
One day toward the close of last September, an old man rapped at myoffice door, and on invitation came in, and advancing, called me byname. Perceiving that I did not at first recognize him, he introducedhimself as Gregory Summerfield. After inviting him to a seat, Iscrutinized his features more closely, and quickly identified him as thesame person whom I had met twenty-two years before. He was greatlyaltered in appearance, but the lofty forehead and the gray eye werestill there, unchanged and unchangeable. He was not quite so stout, butmore ruddy in complexion, and exhibited some symptoms, as I thenthought, of intemperate drinking. Still there was the old charm ofintellectual superiority in his conversation, and I welcomed him toCalifornia as an important addition to her mental wealth.
It was not many minutes before he requested a private interview. Hefollowed me into my back office, carefully closed the door after him andlocked it. We had scarcely seated ourselves before he inquired of me ifI had noticed any recent articles in the newspapers respecting thediscovery of the art of decomposing water so as to fit it for use as afuel for ordinary purposes?
I replied that I had observed nothing new upon that subject since theexperiments of Agassiz and Professor Henry, and added that, in myopinion, the expensive mode of reduction would always prevent its use.
In a few words he then informed me that he had made the discovery thatthe art was extremely simple, and the expense attending thedecomposition so slight as to be insignificant.
Presuming then that the object of his visit to me was to procure thenecessary forms to get out a patent for the right, I congratulated himupon his good fortune, and was about to branch forth with a descriptionof some of the great benefits that must ensue to the community, when hesuddenly and somewhat uncivilly requested me to "be silent," and listento what he had to say.
He began with some general remarks about the inequality of fortuneamongst mankind, and instanced himself as a striking example of the fateof those men, who, according to all the rules of right, ought to be nearthe top, instead of at the foot of the ladder of fortune. "But," saidhe, springing to his feet with impulsive energy, "I have now the meansat my command of rising superior to fate, or of inflicting incalculableills upon the whole human race."
Looking at him more closely, I thought I could detect in his eye thegleam of madness; but I remained silent and awaited furtherdevelopments. But my scrutiny, stolen as it was, had been detected, andhe replied at once to the expression of my face: "No, sir; I am neitherdrunk nor a maniac; I am in deep earnest in all that I say; and I amfully prepared, by actual experiment, to demonstrate beyond all doubtthe truth of all I claim."
For the first time I noticed that he carried a small portmanteau in hishand; this he placed upon the table, unlocked it, and took out two orthree small volumes, a pamphlet or two, and a small, square,wide-mouthed vial, hermetically sealed.
I watched him with profound curiosity, and took note of his slightestmovements. Having arranged his books to suit him, and placed the vial ina conspicuous position, he drew up his chair very closely to my own, anduttered in a half-hissing tone: "I demand one million dollars for thecontents of that bottle; and you must raise it for me in the city ofSan Francisco within one month, or scenes too terrible even for theimagination to conceive, will surely be witnessed by every living humanbeing on the face of the globe."
The tone, the manner, and the absurd extravagance of the demand, exciteda faint smile upon my lips, which he observed, but disdained to notice.
My mind was fully made up that I had a maniac to deal with, and Iprepared to act accordingly. But I ascertained at once that my inmostthoughts were read by the remarkable man before me, and seemed to beanticipated by him in advance of their expression.
"Perhaps," said I, "Mr. Summerfield, you would oblige me by informing mefully of the grounds of your claim, and the nature of your discovery."
"That is the object of my visit," he replied. "I claim to havediscovered the key which unlocks the constituent gases of water, andfrees each from the embrace of the other, at a single touch."
"You mean to assert," I rejoined, "that you can make water burn itselfup?"
"Nothing more nor less," he responded, "except this: to insist upon theconsequences of the secret, if my demand be not at once complied with."
Then, without pausing for a moment to allow me to make a suggestion, asI once or twice attempted to do, he proceeded in a clear and deliberatemanner, in these words: "I need not inform you, sir, that when thisearth was created, it consisted almost wholly of vapor, which, bycondensation, finally became water. The oceans now occupy more than twothirds of the entire surface of the globe. The continents are mereislands in the midst of the seas. They are everywhere ocean-bound, andthe hyperborean north is hemmed in by open polar seas. Such is my firstproposition. My second embraces the constituent elements of water. Whatis that thing which we call water? Chemistry, that royal queen of allthe sciences, answers readily: 'Water is but the combination of twogases, oxygen and hydrogen, and in the proportion of eight to one.' Inother words, in order to form water, take eight parts of oxygen and oneof hydrogen, mix them together, and the result or product is water. Yousmile, sir, because, as you very properly think, these are theelementary principles of science, and are familiar to the minds of everyschoolboy twelve years of age. Yes! but what next? Suppose you takethese same gases and mix them in any other proportion, I care not what,and the instantaneous result is heat, flame, combustion of the intensestdescription. The famous Drummond Light, that a few years ago astonishedEurope--what is that but the ignited flame of a mixture of oxygen andhydrogen projected against a small piece of lime? What was harmless aswater, becomes the most destructive of all known objects when decomposedand mixed in any other proportion.
"Now, suppose I fling the contents of this small vial into the PacificOcean, what would be the result? Dare you contemplate it for an instant?I do not assert that the entire surface of the sea would instantaneouslybubble up into insufferable flames; no, but from the nucleus of acircle, of which this vial would be the centre, lurid radii of flameswould gradually shoot outward, until the blazing circumference wouldroll in vast billows of fire, upon the uttermost shores. Not all thedripping clouds of the deluge could extinguish it. Not all the tears ofsaints and angels could for an instant check its progress. On and onwardit would sweep, with the steady gait of destiny, until the continentswould melt with fervent heat, the atmosphere glare with the ominousconflagration, and all living creatures, in land and sea and air, perishin one universal catastrophe."
Then suddenly starting to his feet, he drew himself up to his fullheight, and murmured solemnly, "I feel like a God! and I recognize myfellow-men but as pigmies that I spurn beneath my feet."
"Summerfield," said I calmly, "there must be some strange error in allthis. You are self-deluded. The weapon which you claim to wield is onethat a good God and a beneficent Creator would never intrust to thekeeping of a mere creature. What, sir! create a world as grand andbeautiful as this, and hide within its bosom a principle that at anymoment might inwrap it in flames, and sink all life in death? I'll notbelieve it; 't were blasphemy to entertain the thought!"
"And yet," cried he passionately, "your Bible prophesies the sameirreverence. Look at your text in 2d Peter, third chapter, seventh andtwelfth verses. Are not the elements to melt with fervent heat? Are not'the heavens to be folded together like a scroll?' Are not 'the rocks tomelt, the stars to fall and the moon to be turned into blood?' Is notfire the next grand cyclic consummation of all things here below? But Icome fully prepared to answer such objections. Your argument betrays anarrow mind, circumscribed in its orbit, and shallow in its depth
. 'Tisthe common thought of mediocrity. You have read books too much, andstudied nature too little. Let me give you a lesson to-day in theworkshop of Omnipotence. Take a stroll with me into the limitlessconfines of space, and let us observe together some of the scenestranspiring at this very instant around us. A moment ago you spoke ofthe moon: what is she but an extinguished world? You spoke of the sun:what is he but a globe of flame? But here is the _Cosmos_ of Humboldt.Read this paragraph."
As he said this he placed before me the _Cosmos_ of Humboldt, and I readas follows:
Nor do the Heavens themselves teach unchangeable permanency in the works of creation. Change is observable there quite as rapid and complete as in the confines of our solar system. In the year 1752, one of the small stars in the constellation Cassiopeia blazed up suddenly into an orb of the first magnitude, gradually decreased in brilliancy, and finally disappeared from the skies. Nor has it ever been visible since that period for a single moment, either to the eye or to the telescope. It burned up and was lost in space.
"Humboldt," he added, "has not told us who set that world on fire!"
"But," resumed he, "I have still clearer proofs." Saying this, he thrustinto my hands the last London _Quarterly_, and on opening the book at anarticle headed "The Language of Light," I read with a feeling akin toawe, the following passage:
Further, some stars exhibit changes of complexion in themselves. Sirius, as before stated, was once a ruddy, or rather a fiery-faced orb, but has now forgotten to blush, and looks down upon us with a pure, brilliant smile, in which there is no trace either of anger or of shame. On the countenances of others, still more varied traits have rippled, within a much briefer period of time. May not these be due to some physiological revolutions, general or convulsive, which are in progress in the particular orb, and which, by affecting the constitution of its atmosphere, compel the absorption or promote the transmission of particular rays? The supposition appears by no means improbable, especially if we call to mind the hydrogen volcanoes which have been discovered on the photosphere of the sun. Indeed, there are a few small stars which afford a spectrum of bright lines instead of dark ones, and this we know denotes a gaseous or vaporized state of things, from which it may be inferred that such orbs are in a different condition from most of their relations.
And as, if for the very purpose of throwing light upon this interesting question, an event of the most striking character occurred in the heavens, almost as soon as the spectroscopists were prepared to interpret it correctly.
On the 12th of May, 1866, a great conflagration, infinitely larger than that of London or Moscow, was announced. To use the expression of a distinguished astronomer, a world was found to be on fire! A star, which till then had shone weakly and unobtrusively in the _corona borealis_, suddenly blazed up into a luminary of the second magnitude. In the course of three days from its discovery in this new character, by Birmingham, at Tuam, it had declined to the third or fourth order of brilliancy. In twelve days, dating from its first apparition in the Irish heavens, it had sunk to the eighth rank, and it went on waning until the 26th of June, when it ceased to be discernible except through the medium of the telescope. This was a remarkable, though certainly not an unprecedented proceeding on the part of a star; but one singular circumstance in its behavior was that, after the lapse of nearly two months, it began to blaze up again, though not with equal ardor, and after maintaining its glow for a few weeks, and passing through sundry phases of color, it gradually paled its fires, and returned to its former insignificance. How many years had elapsed since this awful conflagration actually took place, it would be presumptuous to guess; but it must be remembered that news from the heavens, though carried by the fleetest of messengers, light, reaches us long after the event has transpired, and that the same celestial carrier is still dropping the tidings at each station it reaches in space, until it sinks exhausted by the length of its flight.
As the star had suddenly flamed up, was it not a natural supposition that it had become inwrapped in burning hydrogen, which in consequence of some great convulsion had been liberated in prodigious quantities, and then combining with other elements, had set this hapless world on fire? In such a fierce conflagration, the combustible gas would soon be consumed, and the glow would therefore begin to decline, subject, as in this case, to a second eruption, which occasioned the renewed outburst of light on the 20th of August.
By such a catastrophe, it is not wholly impossible that our own globe may some time be ravaged; for if a word from the Almighty were to unloose for a few moments the bonds of affinity which unite the elements of water, a single spark would bring them together with a fury that would kindle the funeral pyre of the human race, and be fatal to the planet and all the works that are thereon.
"Your argument," he then instantly added, "is by no means a good one.What do we know of the Supreme Architect of the Universe, or of hisdesigns? He builds up worlds, and he pulls them down; he kindles sunsand he extinguishes them. He inflames the comet, in one portion of itsorbit, with a heat that no human imagination can conceive of; and inanother, subjects the same blazing orb to a cold intenser than thatwhich invests forever the antarctic pole. All that we know of Him wegather through His works. I have shown you that He burns other worlds,why not this? The habitable parts of our globe are surrounded by water,and water you know is fire in possibility."
"But all this," I rejoined, "is pure, baseless, profitless speculation."
"Not so fast," he answered. And then rising, he seized the small vial,and handing it to me, requested me to open it.
I confess I did so with some trepidation.
"Now smell it."
I did so.
"What odor do you perceive?"
"Potassium," I replied.
"Of course," he added, "you are familiar with the chief characteristicof that substance. It ignites instantly when brought in contact withwater. Within that little globule of potassium, I have imbedded a pillof my own composition and discovery. The moment it is liberated from thepotassium, it commences the work of decomposing the fluid on which itfloats. The potassium at once ignites the liberated oxygen, and theconflagration of this mighty globe is begun."
"Yes," said I, "begun, if you please, but your little pill soonevaporates or sinks, or melts in the surrounding seas, and yourconflagration ends just where it began."
"My reply to that suggestion could be made at once by simply testing theexperiment on a small scale, or a large one, either. But I prefer atpresent to refute your proposition by an argument drawn from natureherself. If you correctly remember, the first time I had the pleasure ofseeing you was on the island of Galveston, many years ago. Do youremember relating to me at that time an incident concerning the effectsof a prairie on fire, that you had yourself witnessed but a few dayspreviously, near the town of Matagorde? If I recollect correctly, youstated that on your return journey from that place, you passed on theway the charred remains of two wagon-loads of cotton, and three humanbeings, that the night before had perished in the flames; that threeslaves, the property of a Mr. Horton, had started a few days before tocarry to market a shipment of cotton; that a norther overtook them onthe treeless prairie, and a few minutes afterwards they were surprisedby beholding a line of rushing fire, surging, roaring and advancing likethe resistless billows of an ocean swept by a gale; that there was notime for escape, and they perished terribly in fighting the devouringelement?"
"Yes; I recollect the event."
"Now, then, I wish a reply to the simple question: Did the single spark,that kindled the conflagration, consume the negroes and their charge?No? But what did? You reply, of course, that the spark set the entireprairie on fire; that each spear of grass added fuel to the flame, andkindled by degrees a conflagration that continued to burn so long as itcould feed on fresh material. The pillule in that vial is the littlespark,
the oceans are the prairies, and the oxygen the fuel upon whichthe fire is to feed until the globe perishes in inextinguishable flames.The elementary substances in that small vial recreate themselves; theyare self-generating, and when once fairly under way must necessarilysweep onward, until the waters in all the seas are exhausted. There is,however, one great difference between the burning of a prairie and thecombustion of an ocean: the fire in the first spreads slowly, for thefuel is difficult to ignite; in the last, it flies with the rapidity ofthe wind, for the substance consumed is oxygen, the most inflammableagent in nature."
Rising from my seat, I went to the washstand in the corner of theapartment, and drawing a bowl half full of Spring Valley water, I turnedto Summerfield, and remarked, "Words are empty, theories are ideal--butfacts are things."
"I take you at your word." So saying, he approached the bowl, emptied itof nine-tenths of its contents, and silently dropped thepotassium-coated pill into the liquid. The potassium danced around theedges of the vessel, fuming, hissing, and blazing, as it always does,and seemed on the point of expiring--when, to my astonishment and alarm,a sharp explosion took place, and in a second of time the water wasblazing in a red, lurid column, half way to the ceiling.
"For God's sake," I cried, "extinguish the flames, or we shall set thebuilding on fire!"
"Had I dropped the potassium into the bowl as you prepared it," hequietly remarked, "the building would indeed have been consumed."
Lower and lower fell the flickering flames, paler and paler grew theblaze, until finally the fire went out, and I rushed up to see theeffects of the combustion.
Not a drop of water remained in the vessel! Astonished beyond measure atwhat I had witnessed, and terrified almost to the verge of insanity, Iapproached Summerfield, and tremblingly inquired, "To whom, sir, is thistremendous secret known?" "To myself alone," he responded; "and nowanswer me a question: is it worth the money?"
* * * * *
It is entirely unnecessary to relate in detail the subsequent eventsconnected with this transaction. I will only add a general statement,showing the results of my negotiations. Having fully satisfied myselfthat Summerfield actually held in his hands the fate of the whole world,with its millions of human beings, and by experiment having tested thecombustion of sea-water, with equal facility as fresh, I next deemed itmy duty to call the attention of a few of the principal men in SanFrancisco to the extreme importance of Summerfield's discovery.
A leading banker, a bishop, a chemist, two State university professors,a physician, a judge, and two Protestant divines, were selected by me towitness the experiment on a large scale. This was done at a smallsand-hill lake, near the sea-shore, but separated from it by a ridge oflofty mountains, distant not more than ten miles from San Francisco.Every single drop of water in the pool was burnt up in less than fifteenminutes. We next did all that we could to pacify Summerfield, andendeavored to induce him to lower his price and bring it within thebounds of a reasonable possibility. But without avail. He began to growurgent in his demands, and his brow would cloud like a tempest-riddensky whenever we approached him on the subject. Finally, ascertainingthat no persuasion could soften his heart or touch his feelings, asub-committee was appointed, to endeavor, if possible, to raise themoney by subscription. Before taking that step, however, we ascertainedbeyond all question that Summerfield was the sole custodian of his dreadsecret, and that he kept no written memorial of the formula of hisprescription. He even went so far as to offer us a penal bond that hissecret should perish with him in case we complied with his demands.
The sub-committee soon commenced work amongst the wealthiest citizens ofSan Francisco, and by appealing to the terrors of a few, and thesympathies of all, succeeded in raising one half the amount within theprescribed period. I shall never forget the woe-begone faces ofCalifornia Street during the month of October. The outside world and thenewspapers spoke most learnedly of a money panic--a pressure inbusiness, and the disturbances in the New York gold-room. But to theinitiated, there was an easier solution of the enigma. The pale spectreof Death looked down upon them all, and pointed with its bony finger tothe fiery tomb of the whole race, already looming up in the distancebefore them. Day after day, I could see the dreadful ravages of thissecret horror; doubly terrible, since they dared not divulge it. Still,do all that we could, the money could not be obtained. The day precedingthe last one given, Summerfield was summoned before the committee, andfull information given him of the state of affairs. Obdurate, hard andcruel, he still continued. Finally, a proposition was started, that anattempt should be made to raise the other half of the money in the cityof New York. To this proposal Summerfield ultimately yielded, but withextreme reluctance. It was agreed in committee, that I should accompanyhim thither, and take with me, in my own possession, evidences of thesums subscribed here; that a proper appeal should be made to the lendingcapitalists, scholars and clergymen of that metropolis, and that, whenthe whole amount was raised, it should be paid over to Summerfield, anda bond taken from him never to divulge his awful secret to any humanbeing.
With this, he seemed to be satisfied, and left us to prepare for hisgoing the next morning.
As soon as he left the apartment, the bishop arose, and deprecated theaction that had been taken, and characterized it as childish and absurd.He declared that no man was safe one moment whilst "that diabolicalwretch" still lived; that the only security for us all, was in hisimmediate extirpation from the face of the earth, and that no amount ofmoney could seal his lips, or close his hands. It would be no crime, hesaid, to deprive him of the means of assassinating the whole humanfamily, and that as for himself he was for dooming him to immediatedeath.
With a unanimity that was extraordinary, the entire committee coincided.
A great many plans were proposed, discussed and rejected, having in viewthe extermination of Summerfield. In them all there was the want of thatproper caution which would lull the apprehensions of an enemy; forshould he for an instant suspect treachery, we knew his nature wellenough to be satisfied, that he would waive all ceremonies and carry histhreats into immediate execution.
It was finally resolved that the trip to New York should not beabandoned, apparently. But that we were to start out in accordance withthe original programme; that during the journey, some proper meansshould be resorted to by me to carry out the final intentions of thecommittee, and that whatever I did would be sanctioned by them all, andfull protection, both in law and conscience, afforded me in any stage ofthe proceeding.
Nothing was wanting but my own consent; but this was difficult tosecure.
At the first view, it seemed to be a most horrible and unwarrantablecrime to deprive a fellow-being of life, under any circumstances; butespecially so where, in meeting his fate, no opportunity was to beafforded him for preparation or repentance. It was a long time before Icould disassociate, in my mind, the two ideas of act and intent. Mystudies had long ago made me perfectly familiar with the doctrine of thecivil law, that in order to constitute guilt, there must be a union ofaction and intention. Taking the property of another is not theft,unless, as the lawyers term it, there is the _animus furandi_. So, inhomicide, life may be lawfully taken in some instances, whilst the deedmay be excused in others. The sheriff hangs the felon, and deprives himof existence; yet nobody thinks of accusing the officer of murder. Thesoldier slays his enemy, still the act is considered heroical. It doesnot therefore follow that human life is too sacred to be taken awayunder all circumstances. The point to be considered was thus narroweddown into one grand inquiry, whether Summerfield was properly to beregarded as _hostis humani generis_ the enemy of the human race or not.If he should justly be so considered, then it would not only be not acrime to kill him, but an act worthy of the highest commendation. Whoblamed McKenzie for hanging Spencer to the yard-arm? Yet in his case,the lives of only a small ship's crew were in jeopardy. Who condemnedPompey for exterminating the pirates from the Adriatic? Yet, in hiscase, only a s
mall portion of the Roman Republic was liable todevastation. Who accuses Charlotte Corday of assassination for stabbingMurat in his bath? Still, her arm only saved the lives of a fewthousands of revolutionary Frenchmen. And to come down to our own times,who heaps accusation upon the heads of Lincoln, Thomas or Sheridan, oreven Grant, though in marching to victory over a crushed rebellion, theydeemed it necessary to wade through seas of human gore? If society hasthe right to defend itself from the assaults of criminals, who, at best,can only destroy a few of its members, why should I hesitate when it wasapparent that the destiny of the globe itself hung in the balance? IfSummerfield should live and carry out his threats, the whole world wouldfeel the shock; his death was the only path to perfect safety.
I asked the privilege of meditation for one hour, at the hands of thecommittee, before I would render a decision either way. During thatrecess the above argumentation occupied my thoughts. The time expired,and I again presented myself before them. I did not deem it requisite tostate the grounds of my decision; I briefly signified my assent, andmade instant preparation to carry the plan into execution.
Having passed on the line of the Pacific Railway more than once, I wasperfectly familiar with all of its windings, gorges and precipices.
I selected Cape Horn as the best adapted to the purpose, and ... thepublic knows the rest.
Having been fully acquitted by two tribunals of the law, I make thisfinal appeal to my fellow-men throughout the State, and ask themconfidently not to reverse the judgments already pronounced.
I am conscious of no guilt; I feel no remorse; I need no repentance. Forme justice has no terrors, and conscience no sting. Let me be judgedsolely by the motives which actuated me, and the importance of the endaccomplished, and I shall pass, unscathed, both temporal and eternaltribunals.
LEONIDAS PARKER.
[Decoration]