1916

Japan's alliance with Russia looks very ominous, though as a counter-stroke against Great Britain it may be agreeable to some people. But if this fresh alliance means an understanding between the three Powers to divide China and to strengthen the chains of bondage upon the already oppressed natives of Asia, then it will certainly create the greatest possible resentment and indignation in the Orient. In fairness to Japan, it must be considered that her ambition to expand cannot be considered as absolutely sinister. There she is, a small nation circumscribed in a narrow strip of land surrounded by strong and powerful nations on both sides of the water. There can be no doubt that if she had not taken possession of Korea Russia would have grabbed it. Russia in Korea would have been a menace to Japan. larly Japan could not allow Russian expansion in northeastern China without taking a risk. Also the military and naval exigencies of her position in the Pacific force her to seek means of expansion and money-making abroad. Relying on her internal resources, she could not possibly maintain the army and navy that she does maintain. There is no room for her in America. Naturally, she seeks to make room for herself in Asia. The situation could be considered safe if there was a firm and lasting friendship assured between the Japanese and American peoples. If Japan could have free access to the American countries and the United States and Japan could enter into a real alliance, the integrity of China would be saved. So far as I could judge from my conversations with the prominent Japanese statesmen and publicists, I can say that in the high circles of Japan there is no desire to invite or encourage a conflict with the United States. The educated party of Japan entertains not only respect but feelings of gratitude towards this country. But underneath these feelings of respect there lurks a grave fear. I remember that in the course of conversation a Japanese statesman of the highest rank told me how the tendency in the United States towards militarism and the new pre

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paredness cry were forcing them to starve the internal improvement of their country in order to be ready for any military emergency. Then of late the anti-British feeling in Japan has been growing apace. The representatives of Great Britain in China having excited the suspicion of the Japanese, the feeling is growing that Japanese and British interests in the East are antagonistic. Japan can expect no help from Great Britain if an armed conflict should ensue between her and the United States, and she fears that together they might crush her. It is this fear that is driving her into the arms of Russia. She feels that she must have the support of a Great Power in the face of the growing feeling of distrust and suspicion that is developing against her in America and Great Britain.

The Orientals are simply perplexed at the developments. They would like to support and strengthen Japan. They would gladly submit to her leadership. They would do anything to enable her to be prepared for an emergency. But, frankly, they cannot conceal their perplexity at the constant bullying of China by Japan. I know from personal knowledge that among the higher circles of the Japanese opinion is by no means unanimous about Japan's policy in China. Some very able and respected men in Japan have a genuine sympathy with China. They would, like to help China. They would like to help India. Their ambition for Japan is a position of honored leadership. Yes, there are men in Japan who can be compared with the most advanced humanitarians of the West-men who want a position of moral leadership for Japan, and not one of political and military aggrandizement at the cost of other peoples' liberties. They have a sincere abhorrence of the latter rôle. But the difficulty is that the people are more likely to be influenced by the ambitious Imperialist than by the political moralist.

The speech already quoted by me concluded with the following remarks:

"Asia has a noble mission-that is, to lead the world to the path of true morality, of true ethics; to teach her such universal brotherhood as would know no distinctions of color or creed. Asia has to learn from Europe the ways and means by which to acquire mastery over nature. Asia has to teach Europe how the power thus gained can and should be applied for the service

of humanity, for the spiritual advancement • of man, for the evolution of supermenand not for the exploitation of one race by another. This is the great mission of Asia, for which all the sons and daughters of Asia should combine to the glory of their mother continent. The realization of this mission requires that the Japanese leaders should be in closer touch with life in Asia; that there should be a friendly understanding between the peoples of Asia. Friendliness with Asiatic people does not imply hostility or conflict with non-Asiatics; but, if it ever comes to that, Japan's strength, safety, and security will best lie in the affectionate sympathy and support of the billions of Asiatics,

rather than in the half-hearted support of one or more European nations."

Young Japan probably considers this as sentimental and outside the scope of practical politics, so it is difficult to imagine what is going to happen. Political developments have at times the knack of shaping themselves contrary to the wishes of those most concerned. The world is moving so fast and events upon events are developing so rapidly that it is folly to prophesy what will happen. This much, however, may be said that Japan has the best wishes of the Oriental peoples in her progress, in the hope that she, on her side, will respect their manhood and integrity.

T

HERE were thirteen of us gathered in the office of the Warden of Sing Sing Prison as dawn broke over the Westchester County hills on a recent September morning. The only one of my companions with whom I was acquainted was a man I had met at the Warden's table the previous evening; he was a statistician, writer, and lecturer of reputation. There were four newspaper reporters among us, and the others were a nondescript lot who looked as if they might be followers of almost any unlearned vocation. The oldest in the group was a man of apparently seventy years, and the youngest about twenty-five, both of newspaperdom; the ages of the rest ranged between thirty and forty. Few of the other men seemed to be acquainted, and we all stood or sat in uneasy and dismal silence. One or two men held partly consumed cigars they had brought in from the street, but they did not venture to smoke, although the youngest reporter puffed occasionally, surreptitiously and nervously, at a cigarette he had hidden in his sleeve. While, however, our demeanor was that of culprits gathered for an underhand purpose, we were under the impression that we had come together to serve the State in some way. Perhaps we were protecting our firesides; perhaps we were celebrating a victory of law and order. I was not sure. Neither could I define the nature of the function in which

we were participating, whether political, economical, or social.

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Each of the thirteen of us had somewhere on his person a typewritten document, done on the Prison letter-head, under the proud legend "State of New York," bidding his presence as a witness at the execution by electricity of Thomas Bambrick, Joseph Hanel, and Jan Trybus," which ceremony was to take place that morning, with the further information that the hour of 5:45 had been designated for the occurrence and that the witnesses were to be present in the Warden's office not later than 5:30 o'clock. None of us knew of his own knowledge whether Hanel or Trybus was innocent or guilty of the crimes for which they were to suffer the extreme penalty of the law, although each man had a previous criminal record. We all knew that Bambrick had been granted a reprieve at the eleventh hour, because evidence had come to hand indicating grave doubt that he was the man who had done the deed for which he had been sentenced to die. How many others of the thirteen were aware of the circumstance I do not know, but I myself knew that Trybus had been convicted on a confession obtained by "third degree" methods, and stoutly asserted his innocence. It occurred to me that there might be fewer miscarriages of justice in homicide cases if the juries who convicted men of capital crimes and the judges who

sentenced them were forced to take part in the resultant executions.

Warden Osborne had left the Prison the night before, as was his habit on the occasion of an execution, in protest at what he terms judicial murder. A tall, broad-shouldered young man came into the Warden's office just before the hour of 5:30 and stood at the desk. His face was haggard, his features serious beyond his years. He looked as if he had gone long without requisite hours of sleep-as, indeed, was the fact, though we did not many of us know it. This was Spencer Miller, Jr., the Warden's private secretary. He had spent the three previous nights scouring New York City's slums in search of the evidence that had brought about Bambrick's reprieve, and had now come from the death cells, where he had done what was in his power to comfort the two men condemned to die that morning. Secretary Miller very briefly informed us that the principal keeper of the Prison would have charge of the executions, and that we were to follow that official's instructions in the lethal chamber; further than that, any of us who, on reaching the door of the chamber, did not wish to enter might turn back, but that those who entered must remain until the spectacle we had come to witness was played through. Coffee would be served us at once in the Warden's dining-room, the secretary said, and he expressed his belief that a year from that time capital punishment would be a thing of the past in the State of New York. Then he left the Prison and started on foot across the hills, to be as far away from the scene of execution as possible as his protest against the taking of human life.

Many of the fourteen hundred prisoners in the cells, the hospital, and the dormitories of the Prison had been awake most of the night, and were waiting in silence to be informed by the keepers when the executions were over. During the recreation period the previous day the men had been under the spell of the tragedy only a few hours off, which they discussed in twos and threes and litttle groups about the Prison grounds. The information that Bambrick had been reprieved had reached them just before the supper hour, and had been received with cheers. The demeanor of the principal keeper and those underkeepers assigned to assist him in the death chamber at daybreak was that of men who themselves apprehended execution. "It's the dirtiest work of the medical profession," said Dr.

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Squires, the Prison physician. Some of the keepers had seriously discussed the question as to what would happen if they should refuse to carry out the death orders of the courts. It seems that all that could happen in that extremity would be the forfeiture by the Warden of the $50,000 bond under which he performs his duties.

Having solemnly drank, each of us, a cup of coffee, we thirteen witnesses, at a signal from the principal keeper, followed him down the steps of the Warden's veranda and to a door in the Prison wall that opened at our approach. On the other side of the wall we were ushered into a low-roofed structure about half the size of a country school-house. Its furnishings were plain. There were three rows of seats at the end of the room near the door by which we entered, but the plainness of the furnishings was relieved from simplicity by a squat, ugly, black chair at the farther end of the inclosure, and an electric apparatus in a corner. There were many unbuckled straps attached to the arms and legs of the squat and ugly chair, and a coil of heavy black wire depended from the ceiling above it. We took our seats on the benches, our only instructions from the principal keeper being that we were not to speak during the impending ceremonies. Standing close to the squat chair were four uniformed keepers and three physicians, the prison doctor and two others-one tall and fat, the other short and fat. The short and fat doctor had his stethoscope clasped about his neck, which gave him the appearance of having his head in a noose -reminiscent of an earlier method of inflicting capital punishment. The only other person in the room was a little, partially bald man of middle age, in a pepper-and-salt suit, who seemed to bound rather than walk from the squat chair to the electrical apparatus and back, adjusting and connecting wires and bolts. He was the official electrician of the death chamber-the executioner.

All of the men about the squat chair, with the exception of the electrician who was tinkering eagerly with his machinery, stood with their eyes fixed upon a little door in the right wall of the chamber, and we thirteen witnesses had scarcely taken our seats when it opened from the inside. Through it came a small man garbed in black, walking with steady steps beside the Prison chaplain, who, in somber robes and purple-embroidered stole, read from an open book he held before him. The small, black-clad man held a cruci

fix to his breast, as he repeated line for line the words of the prayer the priest was reading. This was Hanel. So unconscious did he seem of his environment that I would have believed that he was under the influence of a drug, were it not that his responses to the prayers were in clear and firm tones. The fact was that he was in a state of complete spiritual exaltation. He moved directly to the squat chair, but did not seem to see it, nor the cluster of men about him, much less the thirteen witnesses before him. Rapt, he did not realize his shameful surroundings, but conceived himself at the very gate of paradise. As he was gently pushed into the squat chair the keepers fell upon him with strap and buckle, reminding me of hostlers hurriedly changing horses on a coaching route. He was unconscious of their presence as he recited after the priest: My Lord and my God, even now I willingly and cheerfully accept whatever form of death you may be pleased to send me, and at the same moment that the iron helmet attached to the dangling coil of black wire descended to his head he steadily concluded the prayer-with all its anguish, its sorrow, and its pain. With the helmet on his head, he bore an absurd resemblance to one of Van der Herr's caricatures I had recently seen of a German soldier.

And now the men about the squat chair backed away from it; the executioner bounded to and jerked a lever, and in the irreducible minimum of a part of the fraction of a second Hanel ceased to be. The doctors having stethoscopically discovered this condition, and the Prison physician having duly conveyed the information to us, two of the keepers, each putting on a long white robe-resembling rather too closely, from an ethical view-point, the outer garments affected by men who deal in undressed meat-carried the poor shell that had been a human tenement through a door behind the squat chair for post-mortem examination.

The conditions attending the demise of Jan Trybus, which occurred immediately afterward, were almost exactly the same as in the case of Hanel. Trybus was also in a state of religious exaltation, and apparently absolutely unconscious of what went on about him immediately previous to his taking off. A Polish priest accompanied the Prison chaplain and the condemned man to the squat chair, and read the prayers for the dying to him in his own language.

Back in the Warden's office, as we thirteen,

as witnesses, signed the death certificates of the two men whose crimes had thus been expiated, we gathered such fragments of information from the voices of the reporters over the telephone to the afternoon newspapers, as: "Ten amperes," "1,900 volts," "One minute and thirty seconds," and the like. Meanwhile autopsies had already been begun upon the bodies, previous to the car-. rying out of an enlightened provision of the law of the State of New York with regard to the disposition of the remains of men executed for murder, which reads: "After such post-mortem examination the body, unless claimed by some relative or relatives of the person so executed, shall be interred in the graveyard or cemetery attached to the Prison, with a sufficient quantity of quicklime to consume such body without delay." No relative claimed the body of either Hanel or Trybus.

That Bambrick, who was to have died on the same morning as Hanel and Trybus, obtained a reprieve is due to the fact that Police Commissioner Arthur Woods, of New York, addressed the Mutual Welfare League, who comprise the inmates of that institution, in Sing Sing on the Wednesday forty-eight hours before the executions, informing them that the doors of Police Headquarters were open to any ex-convict who might be persecuted by the police. Bambrick, who is twenty-six years of age, and has been a criminal all his life and a terror to the police, had been convicted of the killing of a policeman in a fight at a political picnic, and his friends claimed that other policemen had "framed him up " in order to get rid of him. On Thursday the Warden's secretary presented evidence to Commissioner Woods tending to show that the young man in the shadow of death had possibly been victimized by policemen. Mr. Woods was as good as his word, and it was his representations to the Governor that brought about Bambrick's reprieve.1

At the Warden's table on the evening of the executions at Sing Sing the subject of capital punishment came up for discussion among Mr. Osborne, Mr. Miller, and Dr. Bernard Glueck, the young psychiatrist whose clinic in the Prison had then been in existence some four or five weeks. "I have five definite objections to capital punishment," Mr. Osborne told the others." In the first place, I object to the taking of human life. A sin is no less a sin because it is committed by

Bambrick's appeal failed and he was executed on October 7.-THE EDITORS.

a large number of people acting together as what is called society than when it is committed by a single individual. I have tried in vain to ascertain where crime becomes righteous punishment. If in cold blood and with premeditation I kill a man, no matter how worthy my motives, nor how bad the man, I commit murder. If a friend helps me do the killing, we two commit murder. If a third man has knowledge of our plans, there are three of us who commit murder. If thirty men form a mob and plan to kill, it is still murder, even though they have a blood ritual which binds them together. And exactly where is the difference in guilt between thirty men and three thousand or three hundred thousand, who kill after certain legal forms, or rituals, have been observed, I fail to see. I object to capital punishment, in the second place, because it is such bad social bookkeeping the only situation I know of where we try to balance a debit by another debit. We know perfectly well that the only way to balance a negative is by a positive. The only way to balance destruction is to construct. The only way to remedy evil is to overcome evil with good. And yet we adhere to the misguided theory that the way to balance one killing is by another killing, to balance a debit by a debit. My third objection to capital punishment is that it encourages crime. It is a popular supposition that men are frightened away from crime by fear of the death penalty. I believe that nothing is farther from the truth. I fail to find in history any example to show us that fear has ever been an effective agent for producing good conduct. Among the type of men that are apt to commit the crime of murder fear is the least efficient appeal that can be made. While a very few may be deterred from murder by dread of capital punishment, I am perfectly satisfied that a great many more are encouraged to commit that crime because the State fails to hold human life sacred. Then a man who goes to the chair' is too frequently a hero in the minds of many, and it is as true in crime as in religion that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.'"

"That fear of capital punishment is not a reliable preventive of homicide is proved in the death-cells of Sing Sing to-day," Secretary Miller remarked. "There are four gunmen-gunmen! gunboys comes nearer an accurate description, since two of them are twenty-one and the others twenty and

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nineteen respectively-awaiting execution there. The four are of Italian parentage. Two of them are under sentence for the murder of Baff, the poultry dealer who was shot by hired assassins from an automobile in exactly the same manner as was Rosenthal, immediately after the execution of the four gunmen and Becker, who were found guilty of the crime. The minutest details of that execution were read and re-read by every active and potential gangster in New York. The other two condemned Italians have been found guilty in the Gimari case, for which former Deputy Street-Cleaning Commissioner Rofrano is now awaiting trial. That crime was also committed after the execution of the four others and Becker, and was of the same high-handed order of violence as the murder of Rosenthal. Another similar crime, if the verdict of the jury is correct, is that of the twenty-one-year-old youth McNamara. He was found guilty in the Dobbs Ferry murder case last January of killing a man he had never seen before for a fee paid to him by the murdered man's relatives. All five of these young men are of the very class that the executions in the Rosenthal case, and other executions like them, are supposed to frighten most. Bambrick, who has just been reprieved, made a point yesterday of impressing upon his lawyer the fact that it was not fear of the chair' that moved him to make the present effort to regain his freedoin."

6

No one could ask for stronger proof that capital punishment is not a deterrent of crime, was Warden Osborne's comment. "My fourth objection to the execution of men convicted of murder," he continued, "is on the ground of the frequency with which innocent men are slaughtered; and my fifth, the utter unfairness of the system. According to figures accumulated some years ago by the New York World,' less than three and a half per cent of homicides are followed by the death penalty. Many murderers escape punishment because they are not caught; many escape because they can buy the advantage of legal technicalities and the services of clever lawyers; many escape because of the refusal of juries to inflict the death penalty; many escape because of executive commutation of sentence; many escape because of lack of convincing evidence. And so more than ninety-six and a half per cent of murderers escape punishment; and it is only, as a rule, the weak tools, the shiftless, and the inefficient who are caught or punished.

I