  [Hester Vaughn was tried for the crime of infanticide. She was convicted, and sentence of death passed upon her. Subsequently, by the efforts of benevolent individuals, and the pressure of public opinion, her sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life. Susan A. Smith, M. D., of Philadelphia, who visited her in prison, and was chiefly instrumental in obtaining her reprieve, gives the following statement in relation to the circumstances attendant upon her alleged crime: “She was deserted by her husband, who knew she had not a relative in America. She rented a third-story room in this city (Philadelphia), from a German family, who understood very little English. She furnished this room, found herself in food and fuel for three months on twenty dollars. She was taken sick in this room at midnight, on the 6th of February, and lingered until Saturday morning, the 8th, when her child was born. She told me she was nearly frozen, and fainted or went to sleep for a long time. Through all this period of agony she was alone, without nourishment or fire, with her door unfastened. It has been asserted that she confessed her guilt. I can solemnly say in the presence of Almighty God that she never confessed guilt to me, and stoutly affirms that no such word ever passed her lips.”] Now by the common weal and woe, Uniting each with all; And by the snares we may not know, Until we blindly fall— Let every heart by sorrow tried, Let every woman born, Feel that her cause stands side by side With that of Hester Vaughn. A woman, famished for the love All hearts so deeply crave, Whose only hope was Heaven above, To succor and to save; With only want, and woe, and care, To greet her child unborn; A weary burden, hard to bear, Was life to Hester Vaughn. No friend, no food, no fire, no light, And face to face with death, She struggled through the weary night, With anguish in each breath; Till that frail life which shared her own, Had perished ere the morn, And left her to the hearts of stone, That judged poor Hester Vaughn. Who was it, that refused to draw A lesson from the time, And in the name of human law, Pronounced her grief a crime? Was her accuser, cold and stern, A man of woman born, Whose debt to woman could not earn Some grace for Hester Vaughn? The word of judgment is not sure, To wealth and station high, But that she was alone and poor, Was she condemned to die. O God of justice! for whose grace The servile worldlings fawn, Has not thy love a hiding-place For such as Hester Vaughn? Come to the bar of Judgment, come, Ye favored ones of earth, And let your haughty lips be dumb, So boastful of your worth. What virtues, or what noble deeds, Your faithless lives adorn, That thus by laws, or lifeless creeds, You sentence Hester Vaughn? What countless crimes, what guilt untold, What depths of sin and shame, Are gilded by your lying gold, Or hidden by a name! Ye pave your social hells with skulls Of Infants yet unborn; Then virtuous wrath suspicion lulls, And crushes Hester Vaughn. Ye, who your secret sins confess, Before the Eternal Throne— Adulterer and Adulteress! What mercy have ye shown? For place and power, for gems and gold, Ye give your souls in pawn, But Heaven’s fair gates will first unfold To such as Hester Vaughn. The “mills of God that grind so slow,” Will “grind exceeding small;” And time, at length, will clearly show The want or worth of all. Distinctions will not always be With such precision drawn, Between the proud of high degree And such as Hester Vaughn. Through Moyamensing’s prison bars, She counts each weary day, Or ’neath the calmly watching stars, She wakes to weep and pray. Thank God! for her in heaven above, A brighter day will dawn, And those who judge all hearts in love, Will welcome Hester Vaughn. |
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