THE CASE OF JEAN GIANINI

“We find the defendant in this case not guilty as charged; we acquit the defendant on the ground of criminal imbecility.”

Such was the verdict by the jury of the Supreme Court of Herkimer County, New York, on May 28th, 1914, in the case of the people vs. Jean Gianini, indicted for the murder of Lida Beecher, his former teacher.

The prosecution and, at first at least, the majority of the citizens of the community held that this had been a carefully planned, premeditated, cold-blooded murder of the most atrocious character, committed with a fiendishness seldom seen among human beings. It was, on the other hand, claimed by the defense that the boy was an imbecile, that he had only the intelligence of a ten-year-old child, that he did not know the nature and quality of his act, and that he did not have any true realization of the enormity of his crime. For some reason unaccountable to a great many people, the jury accepted the view of the defense.

Not infrequently have verdicts in murder trials been unacceptable to the populace. In that respect this verdict is not an exceptional one, but from other standpoints it is remarkable. Probably no verdict in modern times has marked so great a step forward in society’s treatment of the wrongdoer. For the first time in history psychological tests of intelligence have been admitted into court and the mentality of the accused established on the basis of these facts.

The value of this verdict cannot be overestimated. It establishes a new standard in criminal procedure. It recognizes that weakness of mind, as an excuse for crime, is of the same importance as disease of mind; puts feeble-mindedness in the same category with insanity, and requires that it like insanity be considered in all discussions of responsibility. When we add the now accepted fact that the feeble-minded are at least as numerous as the insane, we see the far-reaching significance of this standard set by the Supreme Court of Herkimer County, New York.

That the verdict has not been at once acceptable to the people is due to the fact that the character and the limitations of the high-grade imbecile are not understood. With a view to explaining this type of defective, which the defendant so well illustrates, we propose in the following pages to go over the history of this case, explaining the facts in the light of present-day knowledge of the feeble-minded.

The facts in the case as established by testimony:—

On the morning of March 28th, 1914, Henry Fitch, a farmer of Herkimer County, accompanied by his son, started on his usual work to deliver milk. At a point in the highway, approximately one mile from the village of Poland, Mr. Fitch saw blood and signs of a struggle in the snow and slush in the road; he also found an umbrella and a hat. A bloody path led out of the road to a point some hundred and thirty feet away. Following the tracks he found the body, which proved to be that of Lida Beecher, one of the school-teachers in the village of Poland. She lay at full length on her face, both arms under her. The body was removed to Sprague’s undertaking rooms in the village.

On the same morning Jean Gianini, sixteen years old, left his father’s house on the edge of the village to go to the home of Sam Hutchinson, where he was working and taking his meals. He had his breakfast, went to the barn, and worked a short time. When Mr. Hutchinson went out a little later, he could not find Jean. A Mr. Smith said he had seen him going down the tracks toward Newport. William Taylor, the track foreman, said he passed Jean near the bridge. Mr. Hutchinson then sent word to the boy’s father that he had gone. The father, supposing his son had run away as he frequently did, telephoned to Newport asking that he be apprehended and sent home. This was before anything was known of the crime. Peck Newman, to whom the father telephoned, found Jean in a grocery store in Newport. He had been apprehended at the depot. He was taken home and then to the Justice of the Peace. Here he was stripped, presumably for the purpose of discovering whether there was any blood upon his clothing or his body. Although there is no evidence that any stains were found, yet he had no sooner been stripped than he made a free and open confession. We shall consider this confession in detail later. In substance he said that he killed Miss Beecher to get revenge, because she had humiliated him in school. He told in detail how he had accomplished this and what had been his movements shortly before and after the deed. On the strength of this confession and such corroborative evidence as could be obtained from local witnesses the prosecution sought to convict this boy of murder in the first degree.

It was understood at first that the defense would attempt to prove that he was insane. There did not seem to be much evidence of insanity and it did not appear that the prosecution was in great fear of such a verdict. As a matter of fact, the real defense was imbecility. It is probable that this defense was less intelligible to people who knew Jean Gianini than that of insanity would have been. To one familiar with imbecility, however, there is no shadow of a doubt of the correctness of this diagnosis. The only possible question in the mind of any such person would be whether a defective of such high grade knew the nature and quality of his act and knew that it was wrong, and was therefore responsible for his act. This point the jury decided, and we shall attempt to show by a study of the case that they decided correctly.

Much of the confusion in the mind of the public and dissatisfaction with the result in this case is due to a failure to understand the nature and character of the imbecile. Most of the acts and the utterances of the defendant, which seemed to many people to indicate his soundness of mind, his premeditation and planning of the murder, are in reality so thoroughly characteristic of the imbecile as to leave no doubt whatever of his low mentality.

We have already given all that is known of the circumstances except certain details which Jean claimed in his confession, and certain acts and utterances which were testified to by local witnesses.

We may now examine these testimonies, reserving his confession for a later discussion. So far as the crime itself is concerned but little testimony was brought forward; so little, in fact, that without the boy’s confession he probably could never have been convicted of the deed.

On the evening of the tragedy Jean was seen by several people walking up the street toward his home in company with his victim. Two days before this he had been heard to ask her when she was coming to see his father about his returning to school; to this she had replied, that she “did not know”; and he had answered, “Aw, I don’t believe you intend to come at all, you will wait until summer time, and go home and then it will be too late.” On the following evening he again asked her to go up to his house. She said she could not go then, as she was going to prayer meeting, but she would go the next night. He had also inquired of certain persons whether she went to the Post Office in the evening. On one occasion he had been seen with an old rusty wrench in his pocket and when asked what he was doing with it, he had replied, “I have use for it.” This was the wrench with which he struck his victim the death-blow, according to his confession.

Previous to the tragedy he had told certain persons that he meant to get even with Miss Beecher. The wrongs for which he claimed to have desired revenge had occurred more than a year before the tragedy. For over a year he had been out of school and had been working a part of that time. For some months he had been an inmate of St. Vincent’s School, to which institution he was committed by a Justice of the Peace at the instigation of his father because of his propensity to jump freight trains.

The evidence was strongly against the idea that Miss Beecher had ever done anything to injure him or anything which would reasonably cause resentment in his mind. He had not gotten along well in his studies after going into her room, had been more or less disorderly, and she, at the suggestion of the principal, had seated him facing the wall with his back to the rest of the school. She had occasionally sent him up to the principal, who had sometimes flogged him.

On the night of the deed Jean was seen walking up the street with Miss Beecher at something after seven o’clock in the evening; before eight o’clock he was at home in his father’s house; there he was given an errand to do and went down the street, returning shortly; spent some time in reading and then went to bed. The next morning he was at his place of work as already mentioned. The wrench which had been seen in his pocket was found near the scene of the murder. These are the only known facts bearing upon the case, previous to his own confession. For further items of evidence see the hypothetical questions propounded by the prosecution and by the defense—Appendix, pp. 109-138.

The fact that he was the last person seen with her, that the monkey wrench at one time seen in his pocket was found at the scene of the deed, that he left his place of work and went down the railroad track toward Newport, was sufficient to arouse suspicion. It is more than doubtful whether the evidence could have resulted in an indictment by a grand jury, and practically certain it never could have resulted in a conviction. The absence of any real motive for the act would have been fatal to such an attempt. The absence of evidence of a prearranged plan is also a serious lack. It is true that, when we have the confession and the later explanations, the presence of the monkey wrench in his pocket and his words that he “had use for it” sound like a prearranged plan, and yet there is no real evidence here. He might have had the monkey wrench for a dozen purposes and have given the same answer. Perhaps his threat to get even with her, his remark “that if he had a revolver he would shoot her,” may be considered more serious, but certainly no jury could convict him merely on the basis of such statements.

It is reasonably certain then that, had he not confessed, he never would have been convicted even if he had been indicted. Let us now examine the confession.

In its main points the confession must be accepted as true. To refuse to accept it would be to admit at once without further proof that the boy was crazy or an imbecile, since, if it were not true, it is inconceivable that any normal person would claim to have done such a deed. It is accepted then by all that Jean Gianini killed Lida Beecher on the night of March 27th, 1914. There is no difference of opinion on that point. It is now only a question of his responsibility.

We may now review the facts and see what is the evidence: first, that he is an imbecile; second, that being an imbecile, he did not know the nature and quality of his act and that it was wrong.

Is Jean Gianini an imbecile? What is an imbecile? We cannot expect to agree upon the question of whether Jean is an imbecile until we agree upon the definition of imbecile. There are various ways of designating this type of individual. Imbecility, as used in law in this country, may be defined as “the state of mental defect existing from birth or from an early age, due to incomplete cerebral development, in consequence of which the person affected is unable to perform his duties as a member of society.” The high-grade imbecile, such as the person under discussion, feeble-minded as he is called in England, or the moron as we are coming to call him in the United States, is one who is “capable of earning a living under favorable circumstances, but is incapable from mental defect, existing from birth or from an early age, (a) of competing on equal terms with his normal fellows, or (b) of managing himself or his affairs with ordinary prudence.” These definitions were formulated by the Royal College of Physicians of England, and accepted by the Royal Commission on the Care and Control of the Feeble-minded.

We may further designate this type of individual by saying that he has the mentality of a normal child of from three to twelve years of age. These age limits have been determined by examining thousands of the inmates of institutions for the feeble-minded and comparing with normal children. The inmates of the institutions are there because they were not capable of managing their own affairs with ordinary prudence, because society has discovered that they could not take care of themselves; they are weak-minded; they must be cared for by the public. Careful examination of such persons as have been determined by experience to be incapable of managing themselves shows that they range in intelligence, as before stated, from three to twelve years. There are practically none in these institutions that have a mentality above twelve. Those under three are called idiots.Considered from the standpoint of the growth and the development of the child, we say that the imbecile is a case of arrested development; he has stopped growing mentally, and has stopped previous to the age of twelve, so that no matter what may be his actual age his mentality is that of a child under twelve years.

In the case of Jean Gianini, although he is sixteen years old, he has only the mentality of a child of ten. Or, if a possible error of two years were allowed, he would still have only the mentality of twelve and would be an imbecile. As a matter of fact, there is probably nothing in the whole career and history of Jean Gianini that is inconsistent with a mentality under twelve; and on the other hand there are numbers of things in evidence in connection with his crime that are so thoroughly typical of high-grade imbeciles that any one with experience with this type of person can have no doubt about it; but it is our purpose to show this by an analysis of the case. We must first attempt to remove some of the difficulties in the way of this view.

First, why does it seem absurd to call Jean Gianini an imbecile? Mainly because in the popular mind the term imbecile connotes only the low-grade imbecile, the person who shows in every movement and action, if not in his very face, that he is “lacking,” is “not all there,” is “not quite right,” or whatever may be the expression that we apply to those unfortunate ones, of whom there are, sad to say, always one or more in every community.

Jean Gianini is not of that type; he is a high-grade imbecile; he is of the grade that is only recognized by those who are intimately familiar with imbeciles of all types. He is only discovered when we make a close comparison between him and normal boys of the various ages. We may perhaps liken it to the question of tuberculosis: the average man never recognizes a fellow being as suffering from consumption until he is afflicted with a cough which does not yield to treatment, is constantly expectorating, gets thin and pale, and has other marked outward symptoms; the average person would not find more than one or two consumptives among a hundred persons; the expert physician, however, experienced with tuberculosis, recognizes many more by signs and symptoms which he can describe with great accuracy, and when he is allowed to apply his physiological tests and his clinical thermometer and his microscope, the number increases enormously, and he assures us that every seventh person will die of tuberculosis.

It is hard then for many people to accept the verdict that Jean Gianini is an imbecile, largely because they do not realize what a high-grade imbecile is.

A second reason is found in the fact that we insist upon believing the unbelievable. We view a crime like the one under discussion and say frankly, “It is unbelievable that any reasoning, intelligent person could commit such an atrocious act,” and yet we believe that this boy did; we believe that such a grade of villainy exists and that it can suddenly appear in a boy who never before manifested anything approaching it. The fact is, that our instinctive revulsion against such a thought is the correct view. The fact that Jean Gianini committed such a crime is itself the strongest kind of evidence that he is not a normal boy. But turning from imbecility in the abstract, let us examine concrete instances in the life of Jean Gianini, for we shall find there the best possible illustrations of the characteristics of an imbecile.

We may begin at the most dramatic point—the crime itself. Since we know practically nothing of the crime except through his admissions, we will begin with the confession. And first, why was there a confession? It is safe to say that there is not a sensible man or boy the country over who, knowing the facts in the case, would not say, “What a fool Jean was to confess!” Nobody but an imbecile would have confessed under those circumstances; they had no evidence against him, nor did they pretend they had; he testifies that they told him that they thought he was guilty of the crime; they did not pretend that they knew he was guilty; there were no third-degree methods used; they had taken his clothing off and examined him, but they had not found any blood or any evidence, and the clothing had only just been removed when Jean began to tell his story. He had not been promised any immunity if he should confess; in fact, he had been told that anything that he said would be used against him, but still he persisted in telling the whole story. But we do not have to rely upon the fact that it looks foolish to us for him to have confessed, because we have the fact, well known to all who have to deal with imbeciles, that it is characteristic of them to do just this thing. They do not always confess, it is true. It seems to depend largely upon how proud they are of their deeds—and frequently the more atrocious these are, the prouder they are of them. It is perfectly clear that such was the case with Jean. He made some little attempt to get away, at least he made what appeared like an attempt to get away; there really is no evidence that he was doing anything more than he had done many times before, going away from home to seek work elsewhere, with that wanderlust which is also characteristic of imbeciles. He walked down the railroad track toward Newport, not going very fast, not taking any precautions to avoid being seen, and when met by some one whom he knew, he came willingly back to Poland.

There is the highest probability, perfectly clear to one who understands imbeciles, that almost from the time the deed was done he had a strong desire to tell somebody about it, to brag about it; but a certain instinct, a certain feeling that he ought not to be caught, probably held him back. But when at last he was taken back to Poland and into the presence of the Deputy Sheriff; when his clothes had been removed and he thought his story would get into the papers and he would become notorious; then he began to talk. In spite of all the warnings and declarations that he would suffer for it, he talked. At this point it is important to remember that he is talking now to be heard; he is not confessing in order to escape punishment, he is talking because he is proud of what he has done; he wants to boast, wants to be talked about and written up, wants to be notorious, a great criminal, as is evidenced in the course of the trial. Remembering this, we cannot believe all that he says in his confession.As already stated, in so far as it relates to the basal facts of the crime, it is undoubtedly true; but when it comes to the finer details of what he did, how he prepared, and what he claimed was his motive, we greatly err if we accept everything he said. It is not in the sworn confession, but it was in evidence that he said he sharpened the knife for the purpose; the fact that he said he sharpened the knife for the purpose should have no weight. It is precisely the kind of thing that he would put in for effect. In fact all that he said after the deed as to arrangements or plans or details must ever be questioned unless his statements can in some way be corroborated, for this tendency to elaborate is so strong that there is no possibility of putting any trust in his words.

It is worthy of note that whereas the defense introduced many witnesses who testified to Jean’s sayings and actions that showed silliness and indicated childish intelligence, the prosecution neither rebutted this nor produced witnesses testifying to anything in his previous conduct that gave evidence of good judgment or intelligence appropriate to his years, or that he had any moral development that would be normal for his age.[1]

The evidences of his pride in the deed are scattered throughout the testimony. For example, at one time he said, referring to the deed, “You would not think anybody could do a deed like that so quick, would you?” When asked how he could get Miss Beecher to go so far up the hill in the dark with him, he replied with a good deal of pride: “That’s easy! I told her my father was building a house up on the hill and we went up there.”

This leads us to another precaution which must be borne in mind in considering this case. If Jean is an imbecile, then all our previous conceptions must be changed, since the conclusions that we naturally draw are based on the assumption that these facts relate to a normal man. To illustrate: if Jean were a normal boy of sixteen, the fact that he inquired as to the time of Lida Beecher’s being at the Post Office, that he talked with her the day before about her promise to go with him to see his father, the fact that he went off with her that night, that when he reached his father’s house, he lied and said his father lived up over the hill and led her up there, and then, as he said, struck her with the monkey wrench, and so on, would all indicate premeditation and planning and forethought; but the instant we conclude that Jean is an imbecile, then these facts indicate nothing of the kind. It is not denied that such may have been the case, or that it is impossible for an imbecile to carry out such a plan. But it is claimed that there is no strong presumption that such was the fact, because the result can be accounted for in another way. Jean being an imbecile, it is entirely possible that he had no premeditation of murder at all, that he not only did not grind that knife for the purpose, but that he did not have the monkey wrench in his pocket for the purpose. On the contrary, it is possible that as he walked up the hill with Lida Beecher he had no more thought of killing her than of committing suicide. Indeed, it is much more plausible from all we know of imbeciles, and of boys of his physical development, that there was an entirely different purpose. That purpose was probably sexual. The writer is not alone in this thought. Hardly any of the persons with whom he has talked of this crime has failed to ask the question, “Was there any sexual offense in the matter?” The absence of any evidence of assault of this character has been a surprise to many persons; but it again is no surprise when we remember that Jean is an imbecile; we know also that he is a masturbator.

While the writer has no theory to put forth in regard to this crime, yet, for the sake of clearness and as an illustration of the imbecile type, let us assume a plausible hypothesis; that is to say, an hypothesis which may fit the case and is entirely plausible from the standpoint of imbecility.

Jean was sixteen years old, an age when sexual passion is strong. It is the middle of the great adolescent period. The new physiological function of sex is established, great psychic changes have occurred. The boy is dreaming dreams, the imagination is active. In the normal boy this means the evolution of ideals, ambitions, moral and religious ideas, attention to dress and appearance, interest in the opposite sex. In the case of the morally well-endowed boy, the sex impulses which have strengthened with the development of the physical potency find their outlet in a kind of vicarious functioning in the shape of polite and friendly association with his girl friends, in chivalric attentions and devotions, with more or less definite plans for future marriage and parenthood. In those with little or no moral principle we see the impulse leaping over the social conventions and attaining complete sexual gratification illegally.

With the imbecile the case is different. The fires of sexual passion may burn as vigorously as in the better endowed, but he lacks both the power of control and the courage and ingenuity to overcome the social barriers. He masturbates. This banks the fires somewhat and requires no courage. If stimulated by association with girls, he makes crude and imbecilic plans for conquest. Lacking moral development and ignorant of the more subtle means of accomplishing his purpose, he may resort to violence in some one of the many possible ways. Often he is not conscious of what it is that is driving him and hence does not know where satisfaction lies. Under these conditions his violence may show no outward signs of being sexual. It may show every degree from rough horseplay with girls, such as pushing, pulling, grabbing hat, cloak, or other articles of dress, bantering, teasing, and other forms of personal contact, up to physical injury, torture, and even murder.

Volumes could be written—indeed volumes have been written—showing the tremendous force of this sex impulse at this age, and the multifarious ways in which it expresses itself—many of them not showing any of the signs that are usually considered as indicating a sexual disturbance. That is to say, such acts are, by the uninitiated, not considered sex acts at all. One incident of this kind is in evidence. “At one time Jean took two little girls to a piece of woods and started to take their clothes off, and when asked why he did it, said he was going to play Indian and that Indians were naked.” Dismissing the possibility that his explanation was invented to conceal a definitely conscious sexual impulse, let us admit that he gave his real reason for the act. Still it is clear to all who are familiar with sex psychology that the subconscious reason for playing Indian in that way was a sexual one. The procedure also shows a lack of judgment and appreciation of the proprieties which argues strongly for mental deficiency—especially as he was then between ten and twelve years old. (For further items the reader is referred to pp. 113-120 of the Appendix, where the hypothetical questions have summed up the testimony.)

The imbecile is a coward. Jean Gianini is an imbecile. Unconsciously impelled by that strong instinct he seeks the company of Lida Beecher. As a matter of fact her friend, Miss Clark, testified that Miss Beecher had been annoyed at his attentions. He contrives an excuse to get her to come up to his house; when he reaches the house, he makes another excuse to get her to go farther, not, as generally believed, with the purpose of murdering her; perhaps only blindly following that instinct of sex and desiring to be in her company; more probably with the half-conscious purpose of satisfying his passion if he could find a suitable opportunity. They walk on; where they were going or how far they would have walked no one will ever know, but there came a time when for some reason her suspicions were aroused, or at least her common sense told her that it was foolish to go farther. Of course we have nothing but Jean’s statement, which may be true or may be false; instead of the simple statement that she thought she would go back as she saw no light, there may, for all we know, have been a strong argument; he may have made improper proposals which she resented; this led to blows with the fatal result. We have no means of knowing what actually took place at that spot. But even taking Jean’s own account, when she remarked that “she thought she would not go any further,” he saw that his plan was frustrated. Then he struck her with the monkey wrench which he happened to have in his pocket—for what purpose no one knows. Having struck her once, it was easy to strike the second and the third time. It was only natural for an imbecile to keep at it,—“finish the job” as he expressed it. According to the evidence he struck her with the knife approximately twenty-four times, finally hitting the jugular vein in the neck, as a result of which she probably bled to death.As already stated, the writer has no desire to advance this as the theory of the deed. But if Jean is an imbecile, this theory is fully as good as that upon which the prosecution worked, and it eliminates entirely all necessity for elaborate planning. Up to this point we have shown that the fact of a confession and the character of the confession, both difficult to explain on the basis that Jean is a normal boy of sixteen, are entirely clear and perfectly characteristic of a high-grade imbecile.

Let us look now at his actions immediately after the deed. It is in evidence that Jean said he took the murdered girl by the foot because there was no blood there and he did not want to get blood on his hands for fear they would take his finger prints. Holding her by the foot, he dragged her out of the road behind some bushes and left her in the snow. He then went back into the road, making new tracks, which he made no effort to cover. Nor did he make any effort to cover the old tracks or the blood spots that were left along in the snow. Neither did he make any attempt to hide the hat nor the umbrella nor the broken comb which were left in the road; his care to take her by the foot where there was no blood is cited as evidence of forethought and judgment; but what shall we say of his failure to cover up his tracks when it was easy to have done so!

Again we must remind the reader that we have nothing but the boy’s testimony as to the fact that he took her by the foot or to explain why he took her by the foot, but in accepting his testimony as true there is nothing incompatible with high-grade imbecility.

The one peculiar thing about Jean is that he has read more than most imbeciles even of this high grade. But this peculiarity does not save him from being an imbecile, since there are cases of imbeciles who have read as much or even more than he. Furthermore, there is plenty of evidence in the case that Jean’s interest in reading has gone along the line, childlike, of crime. The various experts who examined him told of his talking about the case of the New York gunmen, of the Pomeroy case, of a murder in the South, and possibly others. He inquired about Mahoney, the would-be assassin of Mayor Mitchell. In connection with these crimes his reading of finger prints had made the same impression upon him that it would have upon any boy. He remembered what he had read and perhaps acted upon it, at least talked about it when the opportunity came, and pretended that he considered it in his action.It needs no argument to show that all the rest of his conduct in leaving things as he did was imbecilic. Even many a high-grade imbecile would have been much more thoughtful and more careful to cover up the tracks in the snow. That Jean did not do so is in itself almost an unanswerable argument that he was an imbecile.

He then went home, and having washed the knife in the snow, put it in the pantry drawer. No evidence was produced, so far as the writer knows, to prove that this was the fact; we do not know whether the knife belonged in the pantry drawer and he put it back, or whether it belonged in his pocket and when he was through, he put it back in his pocket or put it somewhere else. Again, assuming that he told the truth, he certainly ran the risk of being questioned as to what he had been doing with the knife. He then went on an errand, and, according to his statement, went down to the railroad, hoping to jump a freight train. When he found the freight had gone, he hurried back home. These actions according to the prosecution indicate careful planning and a desire to get away; realizing the enormity of his deed he wanted to get out of town. Surely no normal youth of sixteen would have failed to get out of town even though he had missed the freight train; but his conduct is perfectly characteristic of an imbecile. One simple thought having failed to materialize, without planning further he goes back home, acts as no one but an imbecile could under such circumstances,—goes to bed, sleeps soundly, gets up the next morning, and goes to work. Then he makes another effort to get away. But how crude an effort it is. He walks quietly along the railroad track and, as already stated, makes no attempt to hide, but passes the trackman and goes into the station at Newport. When he meets a person from his own town, comes promptly and quietly back home. Surely an act much more befitting an imbecile than a normal boy of sixteen!

The writer was asked upon the stand whether these incidents indicated to his mind that Jean had intelligence and had planned this thing carefully. The answer was emphatically, “No.” At every turn they indicate an imbecile. We could cite many instances of imbeciles in our institutions who have done things of exactly the same character. Our high-grade boys frequently plan to run away, and often their plans are much more elaborately conceived and much better carried out than Jean’s was.

In speaking of the confession it may be noted also that not infrequently our boys when they have made a plan to run away cannot keep it until they can carry it out, but make a confession. They go to some attendant or officer and, without any compulsion, actually tell of their plan. In this way a great many times their purposes are frustrated. When two boys plan to run away, it is rare indeed if they carry out their scheme; it is almost certain that one of them will confess to somebody.

Jean manifested throughout that love of display and notoriety, that longing to be the center of observation and talk, which is so characteristic of imbeciles. He asked the alienists who were examining him if his picture would be in the paper and what the people were saying about him. According to the testimony of the experts who examined him in jail, every occasion on which he was examined was regarded by Jean with pleasure, and his only thought apparently was that he was the center of observation. Instead of showing some realization of his crime and that he was exerting himself to make an appearance that would be favorable to his case, all the evidence was of the opposite character. None of the witnesses for the prosecution were able to hide the fact that he was light-hearted and frivolous, and, in a word, “showing off,” throughout these various examinations.Throughout the whole time of the writer’s examination of him Jean never for one moment evidenced by word or action any thought as to how his conduct or his answers to questions would affect his case. As was pointed out by the defense, quite in keeping with his mentality was his statement to the experts employed by the prosecution, that he had been told not to talk, in spite of which he talked incessantly and told everything that they wanted. The fact of the matter was that his desire to show off so far overcame any thought of self-preservation that he talked and acted freely in spite of his lawyer’s caution that he should not answer questions. His conduct in the court room throughout the trial was that of an imbecile, of a child, who had no realization of the predicament that he was in and no purpose to make a good appearance. He was in the limelight and he enjoyed it. Even when the most gruesome details of his deed were being recited, he evidenced no feeling of horror or sorrow or fear; on the contrary he was indifferent, and frequently even laughed at the incidents that were related. He showed no excitement after he got home that evening; he slept well. His only comment on his prison cell, which to a normal person would have been loathsome in the extreme, was that it was better than St. Vincent’s, where he had been at school. Even when the experts introduced by his own counsel were examining him, and when, had he been intelligent, he should have known that it was to his advantage to make the best possible appearance, to give them every possible help, yet when his dinner was brought into his cell, he could think of nothing but eating and ignored the people who had been sent to help him. As one of the experts testified, “As between soup and safety, Jean prefers soup.”

These facts and circumstances alone are enough to satisfy any person who is familiar with the character of the inmates of our institutions for the feeble-minded that Jean was an imbecile and really belonged in an institution. But besides these circumstances several witnesses were introduced who testified to the curious and childish actions of Jean in his past history. Quite recently, he had tried to catch pigeons by putting salt on their tails. The prosecuting attorney called attention to the fact that almost every man remembers going through the same experience, but it may be safely asserted that this is not done by any normal boy after the age of twelve. It is a childish act, and indicates a mentality of less than eleven.

Peter Black, the village blacksmith, testified that some one sent Jean to him one day for “strap oil”; that he carried out the joke by slapping Jean with a strap, but was unable to make him see that the whole thing was a joke. He teased and bullied the other children in a way that is characteristic of the high-grade imbecile. Mrs. Anna Newman testified that he was a restless boy, and that sometimes he would answer her questions and sometimes not. Every superintendent of an institution for the feeble-minded would instantly recognize these characteristics as common among his inmates. The reader will find more of these incidents in the Appendix, pp. 113-119.

One of the unique features, so far as court procedure is concerned, was the introduction into the case, of examinations by means of the Binet-Simon Measuring Scale of Intelligence. The writer’s examination of Jean consisted largely of the use of these tests, and as a result he estimated his mentality at approximately ten years of age. It was somewhat difficult to estimate his mentality with the usual exactness since others had already used the tests, and it was impossible to say how much Jean had learned from his previous examinations. As a matter of fact, in some cases at least, he had not profited by the experiences which should have helped him greatly had he been a normal boy. For example, one of the tests is to draw from memory a diagram which he has been allowed to study for ten seconds. It is clear that if one were given this test two or three times, at the last trial he should have a pretty good idea of it and be able to draw it correctly. Although the writer’s use of this test was in the last of the series of those who tested him, yet he did not succeed in drawing it. This is usually drawn by a child of ten years. When asked to repeat a certain sentence, he replied, “Oh, I have been asked that a hundred times.” But in spite of the fact that he had heard it several times he failed to remember it, and yet this sentence is generally remembered by a child of twelve.

This is not the place nor is it necessary to discuss the Binet tests themselves. A word, however, may be said as to why the experts for the prosecution did not get the same results with the tests that those of the defense obtained. Also it seems necessary to make a brief explanation, since the prosecuting attorney failed so markedly to understand the tests in spite of the fact that he had had the instruction of one of his own experts who used them. One of the prosecution’s experts told the writer that he did not ask Jean any questions except those in the twelve-year list, and he “seemed to do those satisfactorily.” There are two sources of error in this. In the first place, Jean’s failures were not only in the twelve-year, but in the eleven and ten. Secondly, if Jean seemed to do the twelve-year tests correctly, it could only have been because they were wrongly used. The Binet Scale is not, as the prosecutor insisted on stating, an “arbitrary system.” It is not a set of questions to which there are definite and fixed answers that are correct, and from which any deviation is marked a failure. Nor is it a set of questions the answers to which can be judged as to their correctness by the so-called “common sense” of the investigator. To illustrate: Jean was asked to give the definition of the word “charity”; he said, “Charity is giving.” The prosecuting attorney insisted that this was a correct answer, because, as he said, “Charity is giving.” This is mere sophistry. It is not a question as to whether “charity is giving” is a theoretically correct answer to the question; the important point is, that such an answer is not the kind of answer that is given by twelve-year-old children. This has been proved by asking hundreds of twelve-year-old children to define “charity.” Practically 75 per cent of such children include not only the idea of giving, but the other necessary idea of giving to some one who is in need. The answer, “Charity is giving,” is characteristic not of twelve-year mentality, but of something under that,—ten or less. So throughout the system the scale must not be judged by what seem correct or incorrect answers to the inexperienced adult. The value of an answer can only be known by knowing the character of answers that are given by children of the various ages. The point is not always that this answer is or is not technically correct, but that it is not the kind of answer which a child of the specified age should give. Therefore, it indicates that he is not of that age, but below it. This was the error into which the prosecutor and his alienists had fallen in their use of the tests in the case of Jean Gianini.

Jean’s school record was the serious stumblingblock to many persons who, from the facts, notably those already cited, were inclined to think that possibly he was an imbecile. To many of these persons that record seemed to indicate a normal boy. The teachers and the principal testified that he did his work well through the fifth grade and got excellent marks, even getting 100 per cent in some studies. They lost sight, however, of the fact that Jean was fourteen or fifteen years of age and in a grade which he should have been in at eleven, namely, the fifth.

As a matter of fact, Jean’s school experience, when taken as a whole, is most confirmatory of his imbecile grade. It was proved in court, but not fully appreciated, that Jean got along well through the fifth grade, but when he went into the sixth grade, he failed.

Professor Robinson testified that when Jean was transferred to Miss Beecher’s room, his troubles began. The boy did not get along nearly so well after the change and he dropped back in his studies. His teacher was obliged to report him a number of times to the principal, who twice whipped him with a piece of rubber hose. Failing to make his studies under the new standard, he was made to occupy a special seat apart from the other pupils, at the instance, if not the actual order, of Miss Beecher.

The witness further testified that in the last days of his school life Jean dropped, to a very marked degree, in his standing in his studies. This falling off in Jean’s ability was attributed to his teacher. As a matter of fact, the falling off was due to the fact that Jean had reached his limit in the fifth grade. He attained to that height because of a good memory, which is characteristic of many imbeciles and is in no way indicative of normal intelligence. It is also very common for children of this type to get through the fifth grade and fail in the sixth. They have mentality enough to carry them to that point, but not farther.It is a satisfaction to realize that Jean’s failure in school with Miss Beecher is in no way due to the inefficiency of his unfortunate victim. It was due simply and solely to the fact that Jean was an imbecile and had reached his limit. These two facts of a good memory and of good school work in a few school grades have deceived many people as to the intelligence of a child.

It should be remembered that many imbeciles do not show their defect until at the age of eleven or twelve when they are in the fifth or sixth grade.

One of the witnesses for the prosecution said that he considered that Jean was normal and that his apparent backwardness was due to lack of schooling. This is a common error in all such cases. If asked why a boy should be backward through lack of schooling when he has been to school and has had every opportunity to learn, it is common again to fall back upon the idea that he has not studied. He has been a wild, wayward boy, playing truant, more or less, and has never applied himself, therefore he is behind his grade and is dull and backward. Again, while not denying that there are children of perfectly normal intelligence who seem to be misfits in school or who seem more interested in other things than in their school work, or children who will not study because of dislike for the teacher or for various other reasons, yet the reader must be reminded that a study of the high-grade defective shows that he is continually being confused with these very exceptional children who have the ability but who do not study. In other words, when a boy does not get along in school, even though it is evident that he does not study, the strong probability is that he does not study because he has not mind enough to appreciate the work, to understand it, hence to have that highest of all incentives to work, success. The fact that the majority of boys do get their lessons and get along well in school should be a strong argument that there is something seriously wrong with those that do not succeed.

It may further be asked: How does the fact that the boy has not succeeded in school affect his examination by the Binet test? Experience has shown that the test is affected but slightly. In other words, the mind develops regardless of school and school training. As long as we ask only such questions as call for a general intelligence and do not call for specific school instruction we are reasonably independent of such instruction. As a matter of fact, nearly all of the questions of the Binet Scale are free from this objection. Some of them, it is true, are a little helped if the child has been to school and correspondingly hard if the child has not been to school; but, on the whole, they do not affect the final rating to any serious extent. This has been proven repeatedly by normal children who, on account of sickness or for other reasons, have not been to school, and yet can pass the Binet tests for their own age.

We must now turn to the question of cause. If we can account for Jean Gianini’s imbecility, it will be much easier to believe in it. Much has been written on the subject of the causes of feeble-mindedness. Certain fundamental principles have been agreed upon. It is now known that at least 66 per cent of feeble-mindedness is hereditary; that is to say, the individual is feeble-minded because he comes from stock in which feeble-mindedness exists. There is another group in which there are practically no other feeble-minded persons in the family or among the ancestors so far as can be discovered, but there is, on the other hand, a great deal of bad physical history; there may be epilepsy, alcoholism, insanity, or other serious physical disturbances. Finally, we have a group in which there is history of some accident, either to the child at the time of birth or after birth, or to the mother previous to the birth of the child.

In Jean’s case we have no history of accident or injury to the child himself. The pedigree or family tree has not been worked up and we do not know what there may be. It was in evidence that the grandfather was born on the south side of the Alps; and there was some slight attempt to imply, since cretinism is very common in that region, that possibly there was some cretinous condition in the family. All this is not impossible; and if it existed in the grandfather or even in the great-grandfather, such a condition might reappear in the grandson in the form of imbecility; yet in view of our present knowledge, or rather our lack of knowledge on this subject, this line of argument is too vague to enable us to draw any conclusions.

The fact that the mother of Jean was insane and alcoholic justly had great weight. Before her first child was born she broke down mentally and was probably never “right” after that time. The first child lived to the age of seven and from the description was clearly an idiot. The second child is entirely normal. Jean, who is the third child, did not talk until he was five years old.

Our general studies have not yet gone far enough, and certainly our study of this particular family is far from sufficient, to enable us to decide whether this is a matter of heredity or whether we shall say that Jean’s condition as well as that of the first child is traceable directly to the mother’s insanity or to her alcoholism.

For the present purpose, of course, it does not matter. We see in these facts, whether we regard them as causes or merely as symptoms of a deeper lying cause, sufficient reason for Jean’s being an imbecile. There is every reason to believe that Jean Gianini is an imbecile of high grade. The next important question that arises is a legal one of whether, being an imbecile of high grade, he knew the nature and quality of his act and that it was wrong.

Before discussing this let us consider two other cases—after which we may discuss the general proposition of whether high-grade imbeciles know right and wrong.