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The Remarkable Confessions of One of the Brightest, Brainiest and Smartest Crooks of His Day—How He Pardoned Himself Out of Prison.

“Naturally I shrink from publishing my sins to the world. I prefer speaking of the shortcomings of others. Like most of the human family I can see the mote in my brother’s eye, but am blind to the beam in my own eye. That I am a son of Belial the journals of the country have not for the past twenty-five years permitted me to forget. I am viewed as all that is bad—as one whom it were folly to try to reform—as an incorrigible, morally deformed. If I am not totally depraved, society is not to be blamed. I rejoice that I am far better than society knows, that I know God and His love for me, and that in my inner life abides a faith that assures me I am but a wanderer from my Father’s house, to which I shall some day return and be numbered among the ransomed.”

“Often have I looked heavenward and exclaimed: ‘Oh, God, I thank Thee that Thou knowest me, and that Thou wilt never misjudge me. Thou knowest why I wandered from the path of righteousness, and when I shall return thereto. I pray for the grace that will enable me to return—that will so fortify me that I may depart from evil and cleave unto Thee.’

“I have never doubted that God will eventually grant my prayer. Were it not for the faith I have in myself, the merciless, unchristian condemnation I have been subjected to for the past quarter century would have sent me to hell beyond redemption! Had I been prayed for more and denounced less by those who are continually announcing their belief in prayer, and the power of God to save to the uttermost all sinners, I might have been a better man than I am. But I am forgetting that I was not asked to write a sermon—that the request was for some of the most sensational and interesting of my experiences—my exploits. The most successful, most valuable and by far the cleverest work of my life was the forging of the documents which induced Governor Buchanan, of Tennessee, to pardon me, April 3d, 1891. I was confined at Tracy City, Tenn., under a six years’ sentence. It is one of the branch prisons of the state, and the convicts are employed in the coal mines. I was put to work in ‘a 3 foot vein,’ with a negro convict—an old miner—for boss. The most arduous labor I ever performed, did little else than grumble from morning till night, and shirked all I dared. At night I laid awake trying to evolve a plan by which I could escape from my wretched plight. I decided that I would try to forge my way to liberty. I soon prepared to execute my plan, secured legal cap paper, official envelopes, ink and some good pens. In three days I forged a petition bearing upward of 150 signatures, writing differing in each, the names of the leading citizens of Tipton county, Tenn., the county in which I was sentenced. I then forged a letter bearing the signature of the firm of attorneys that defended me, one of whom was a friend of the Governor, and enclosed it with the petition, and had them mailed in Memphis, remote from where I was confined, 320 miles. I then forged another letter purporting to have been written by the aforesaid attorney to John Tipton, representative in the Legislature at Nashville, in which he was asked to see Governor Buchanan, and to urge him to pardon Henry B. Davis (my alias). All this was done in March, 1891. On the 3rd day of April, 1891, the pardon reached the warden at Tracy City. I received the glad tidings while in the dining room, writing a letter for a fellow prisoner. Warden Mottern walked in and threw a letter on the table at my side, remarking as he did so, ‘Henry, don’t let that take your breath away.’ I did not take up the letter, but continued to write. The warden, eager that I should read the letter, repeated his remark. I then felt that it was a letter bearing very important intelligence, and drew it from the envelope. I have never forgotten its contents. It read:

Henry B. Davis, Esq.,

Tracy City, Tenn.,

Dear Sir:

I send herewith your pardon. After you have called at the Capitol and signed certain papers, forwarded to the Governor by your attorneys, you are free to go home or elsewhere, I am

Yours very truly,

W. H. Norman,

Adj’t-Gen’l and Private Secretary to His Excellency

John P. Buchanan, Governor.

“As they could not clothe me that day nor arrange for my transportation to Covington, Tenn., I remained in the stockade until 4 a. m., of the 4th. And a more fearful and uneasy mortal the world had not. I made my way to Indianapolis, and did not until I reached that city see anything which indicated that I was being sought—that officers were after me. While sitting in the depot a man passed and re-passed me, closely observing me. I said to myself, ‘He evidently is looking for me; I had better get out of this.’ I went out of the north door as he passed out of the south door, and hastily boarded the “White Mail” express on the P. C. C. & St. L. R. R., without one cent in my pocket. I was on the front end of the mail car, and rode to Denison, Ohio, unmolested—the longest ride I ever knew anyone to make ‘on the beat’ on a passenger train.

“In August, 1901, I was arrested in Jersey City for forging a telegram. Shortly after I was bound over to the grand jury it was learned that I had been sentenced to six years’ imprisonment in Tennessee, and a letter of inquiry was sent to the Governor, who quickly notified the Jersey City authorities that I had been pardoned because of forged documents sent to him by some person unknown. A certain detective then went to Nashville, called on the Governor, and said: “Governor, Edwin Stoddard, alias Henry B. Davis, is subject to your order. Do you want him, and what is the reward?”

The good Governor, eternal peace and happiness be his, slowly rose from his chair, straightened his tall form and said: ‘Do I want Edwin Stoddard, alias Henry B. Davis? No, sir; I do not want Edwin Stoddard, alias Henry B. Davis. He beat me very cleverly, and is altogether too brilliant a man to be in prison! All I ask of Edwin Stoddard alias Henry B. Davis, is to stay out of the State of Tennessee! The pardon stands. I bid you good day, sir.’

“How the small, inhuman, unfeeling soul of the detective, who for two hundred dollars was eager to return me to a loathsome prison, must have shrank from that great, noble, white-souled Governor. What a rebuke the good Governor administered to the mercenary, unchristian wretch!

“In November, 1889, while journeying from Chicago to St. Louis, in a parlor car, on the Chicago & Alton R. R., I entered upon what resulted in one of the most interesting experiences of my life. A gentleman left his chair and said to me: ‘I am the Rev. —— ——, of Springfield, Mo., and if I mistake not, you are the Rev. —— ——, of Detroit,’ (at that time a well known preacher). At once seeing an opportunity for amusing myself, I said: ‘You are right; I am pleased to form your acquaintance.’ After we had conversed for some time he said, ‘I should be pleased to have you accompany me to Springfield and become my guest and to occupy my pulpit Sunday.’ To which, after some hesitation, I consented. He had a very pleasant home, and the sweetest, kindliest consort it has ever been my pleasure to meet. They could not do enough for my comfort and pleasure. Impostor that I was, their assiduous attention only served to render me uncomfortable. I asked a blessing at each meal, and read the Bible and prayed in the morning and evening. But the thought of the two sermons I was expected to preach Sunday caused me unspeakable perturbation, as I had but 36 hours in which to prepare them. I was tempted to flee the place and let the good pastor think what he pleased. But as I had never in the course of my wayward career proved unequal to any emergency I determined to face the rugged proposition and preach as he had requested. Retiring to my room with a Bible and several sheets of paper I went to agonizing over the sermons. For the morning sermon I took for my text the verse in Genesis (1:26) where God gives man dominion over all living creatures. I spoke from notes and flatter myself that I did fairly well. I was warmly congratulated by the good pastor and his wife, and introduced at the close of the services to a number of the congregation.

“In the evening I preached on Faith, and from notes. I labored to be very original and succeeded. I recall maintaining that we could not exercise any more faith than God allotted to us, that since he was ‘the author and finisher of our faith,’ we might reasonably hold him responsible for our lack of faith provided we had prayed most earnestly for the proper faith—for sufficient faith. I also maintained that it were possible for one to have faith sufficient to secure an answer to a prayer that, while it benefited one might be harmful to many others. That God often denied a petitioner even when he had exercised the required faith because God saw that to answer the prayer—to bestow what was prayed for, would work harm instead of good to the supplicant. That it was more the nature of what we prayed for than the faith we evinced that influenced the Almighty to a decision. I spoke of the assassination of President Garfield, reminding the congregation that prayers were ascending to God from all parts of the world, and that many of the petitioners believed that God would spare his life. Yet he died. What conclusion must those who prayed for Garfield’s recovery reach in order to be consistent? Could it be other than that the Almighty deemed it best to remove James A. Garfield from this sphere of action? Therefore faith does not induce God to answer an unwise prayer.

“A child four years of age lay sick and at death’s door. The physician decided that he must die. The mother agonized in prayer. God spared his life. That boy grew to manhood and at the age of twenty-eight robbed and murdered his grandfather and was hung. Did faith save the boy for such an awful crime, and death on the gallows? If so, it accomplished an awful work! Far better had the boy died in his innocent childhood! Faith should behold not merely the substance of things hoped for but should go far beyond this and see that the things hoped for will permanently and soulfully benefit the petitioner!

“At the close of the service the pastor said to me, ‘Your discourse was forceful and original, and stimulated my mind and has given birth to thoughts hitherto unknown to it. You interfered somewhat with the old orthodox line of belief but have nevertheless done us much good. You have quickened and driven us from the old ruts which we have followed for many years. I believe my people are very much pleased with the sermon.’

“The next day I was taken about the city and shown the different points of interest and introduced to a number of the leading citizens.

“To this day I think the worthy pastor and his noble wife fully believe that they entertained the Rev. —— —— of Detroit.

“In December, 1889, I was arrested 400 miles from a city where I had obtained $1,400.00 on a forged draft. While escaping, I changed my clothes, and had my mustache removed, and hair dyed a jet black. When arrested it flashed through my mind as quick as lightning, ‘Feign deafness and dumbness, and that you can neither read nor write.’ I was taken back to the city where I had cashed the draft, and so changed was my appearance, that the cashier was in doubt as to my identity, but they placed me in jail and finally succeeded in holding me for the grand jury. For sixty days I was closely watched, four different men were placed in the cell with me and, instructed by the police, did their utmost to induce me to talk or to write, but by the utmost care I evaded all their little artifices and cunning, and the grand jury did not find a true bill. Thus did I obtain my liberty after maintaining silence for two months and not placing pen or pencil to paper. The most trying time of my life, but I never regretted playing the part inasmuch as it saved me from a sentence of not less than ten years!

“That I sorrow o’er the evil I have done is to be believed. I have often wondered why I have had such a wayward career. I sincerely desired to be one of the best men in the world, and in my early manhood believed that I was to become such a man. I am well nigh a fatalist. What God foresees must be equivalent to a law that cannot be evaded. He foresaw my career. I could not do otherwise than I have done. I sometimes so reason. I am grateful to God that in all my unrighteousness I never wholly lost my belief in his saving grace and that he loved me; that there was a glorious reality in the religion of our Saviour; and that the uplift of fallen men and women and their leading noble, useful lives was and is an unanswerable argument in support of his gospel of love, mercy and helpfulness. That I may become a humble, earnest follower of him who made known God the Father unto men, is my earnest prayer. I am soul weary of a life of sin. I have had an unspeakably wretched life for the past twenty-eight years. I mean to get away from my old wayward sinful self—out of self and into Christ! I am glad that I can truthfully say, that there has never been a period in my life when I did not love Christ and venerate God, never a time since I was twelve years of age that I did not at some hour in the day fix my mind on God and ask him for his mercy and guidance. But for all this I have had a very checkered career. Still I believe he heard my prayer and will yet enable me to lead a righteous life.

“If I can say anything which will induce any wayward fellow creature to depart from evil and walk Godward—heavenward, I should be most happy to do so. God’s mercy is for all. He never turned a deaf ear to the prayer for mercy. Nothing so beautiful to the angels as a sinner on his knees imploring the mercy of the merciful and loving God!

“I have written the foregoing for the Rev. J. J. Munro, Chaplain of the City Prison, New York City. Interested for my spiritual welfare he won my confidence and gratitude by his sincerity and the spirit of helpfulness that dominates him. He is doing a noble work at the prison and cannot be too highly commended, and the good people of the city should earnestly and generously aid him that he may be enabled to extend his noble, Christian work in behalf of the fallen and the neglected who, if properly befriended, may be restored to honest and useful lives.

“E. S. S.”