BACK FROM A LIVING DEATH.

Evening Post, Volume XVII, Issue 512, 17 May 1879, Page 1 (Supplement)

BACK FROM A LIVING DEATH.

Few chapters in a romance can be more interesting than what may be called the last in the history of the infamous Peace. Just before his death he declared that he was guilty of a murder, for which a young Irishman named William Habron had been convicted, but, as we stated a few days ago, Peace was so renowned a liar, that his tale was regarded with suspicion. We now learn by our mail files that Habron, who has been undergoing a commuted sentence of penal servitude for life for the murder, was released on the 18th March, and was accomp%nied to Manchester by his former employer, Mr. F. Deakin. An English paper says : — In obedience to a telegram forwarded to Portland from the Home Office on Monday night, preparations were made early on Tuesday morning for the release of William Habron, undergoing penal servitude as the supposed murderer of Police-constable Cock at "Whalley Range, Manchester. At a quar-ter-past five on Tuesday morning C 1547, got up to begin another of the long, weary prison days of which he has endured so many. C 1547 even in the prison garb of Portland, the hideous plumage of a gal-lows-bird, was not a repulsve-looking person, and his large Irish eyes brightened when he was told he wa3 wanted, and some officers of the prison came into his cell and bade him follow them. They, probably according to custom, or to prevent any sudden shock to the system of the prisoner, gave him no hint that his punishment for another's crime was over. As William Habron, late C 1547, puts it — •• They said never a word, but took me to the weighing room and weighed me, and walked me into the chief warder's hall, where they stripped me of my clothes, and gave me another suit. They then brought me outside the front gate to the governor's room, to undergo the doctor's examination, and answer his questions as to general health, and so forth. I answered him as well as I could, and then knew, from seeing two or three other prisoners, that we were going to be moved from Portland. I supposed I looked a little surprised, for the chief warder asked me if I did not know I was going away in the morning, and I answered him that I did not. Nor did I." Probably in order to prevent still more effectually any shock to the nerves of the prisoner or any outbreak of uproarious joy at the prospect of liberty, it was deemed necessary to put handcuffs on him at Weymouth Station. From Portland Station to the South if; was considered safe to leave his hands untied, but on approaching civilisation the handcuffs were put on, and, except during one short interval, kept on until the prisoners and those in charge of them arrived at Millbank. It had been arranged that Mr. Deakin, the employer of the three Habrons, who has all through William's severe ordeal neither flinched in his belief in hi 3 innocence nor relaxed in his endeavours to procure his release, should come up from Manchester, meet Habron at Millbank, and take him under his charge to his relations in Ireland. Mr. Deakin was accordingly waiting at Millbank to receive him when he arrived. " When I got to Millbank in a cab from Vauxhall Station," observes Habron, "I felt as if I were' going among friends ; for they were very good to me at Millbank, and the chief warder said, ' Habron, don't you know me ? lam very glad to see you back.' " The warder then left Habron for a few minutes, during which a mistake occurred, which would under other circumstances have been ludicrous. Poor Habron, tired and hungry from his long, cold journey, was on the point of being set to work to pick oakum along with some other prisoners, when the chief warder came in and rescued him. "Then the door opened, and I saw Mr. Deakin and the governor, and knew that I was free." The demeanour of C 1547 when told that he was once more William Habron and a free man was singularly free from Celtic excitability. He acted, indeed, like one who witnesied the accomplishment of something long and confidently expected. Warmly congratulated by all present, he showed some slight symptoms of emotion, but repeated that "he wa3 sure the day of his release would come, as it had come." As he appears in a plain, dark suit of clothes, his closely-cropped hair concealed by a billycock hat, William Habron is a by no means ill-looking young Irishman, fresh colored and grey eyed, rather below the middle height, but well built aud active. He speaks with an Irish accent by no means strongly marked, and would at once be accepted by any* impartial person as a quiet, civil, and well-spoken youth, of no special education or refinement, of course, but respectful and singularly undemonstrative in his manner. It is not quite easy to picture him as the brutal roysterer described as threatening the police when deep in his cup 3, nor is it easy to reconcile the exaggerated picture of the Habrons presented to the Manchester jury with the account givqn by Mr. Deakin of their orderly^and saving habits. That gentleman declares that while in his employment the Habron3 regularly remitted money to their parents in Ireland, and moreover had a little hoard of their own to meet the first expenses of their defence. In William Habron, at least, there is a great fund of simple faith and steadfastness. "I never believed," he often repeats, " that J could ever be brought in guilty, and when I was condemned I felt sure I could not be hanged, for, as I told the priest, • God knows, you know, and I know that I am innocent of the crime, and an innocent man will never be allowed to suffer for the guilty. '" It was probable this steady faith in justice being ultimately done that sustained the poor youHg fellow's heart and brain for the ten weeks during which he lay under sentence of death, a trial severe enough to crack the strongest nerves, and how much more terrible to a lad of 18 ! Sentenced to death on 27th November, 1876, he was respited on the 19fch December, 1876, and his sentence was not commuted till the February following. "It was a very near thing, sir," he observes quietly enough. "Flanagan and I were to have been hanged together, andMarwood had actually been to look at me to measure my size and weight. Luckily I did not know who the man was who looked at me so curiously till afterwards. I should have felt very bad if I had known it at the time. But it was a dreadful ten weeks, and if it had not been for the priest I do not know how I should have lived on at all. As it wa3, I prayed day And night, and never quite lost hope." Eight months of oakum-picking at Millbank succeeded the commutation of the sentence from death to penal servitude for life, and then came the work in the stone quarries at Portland. Habron does not see anything extraordinary in his release, albeit that it depended on the sense of justice in an assassin on the brink of another world. He persists in thinking it quite natural that assassins should confess, that honest men may have tardy justice done to them, and repeats his expression of faith, "God knew I was innocent, and I knew I should be released at last." On the manner in which his prosecution was conducted he is very chary in • wMnpg |

observations. "They betrayed mo with the footprint," he will say. "It was a police affair altogether. A policeman had been killed ; and they meant to hang somebody for it. There was some heavy swearing at the trial," and bo forth, but he refrains from making specific charges against individuals, or attacking particular portions of the evidence against him. That he is of no gloomy or revengeful temperament was made evident by the pleasant manner in which he chatted with his friend and employer, Mr. Deakin, as^ they took their seats and lit their cigars in the 5 o'clock Midland train from St. Pancras for Manchester. William Habron and his brother John, accompanied by Mr. Deakin, the brother of his former employer, left Manchester for Ireland on Wednesday, Mr. Deakin accompanying them as far as Holyhead. The reason that Mr. Deakin was requested to meet Habron in London was, it is stated, that he might not fall into the hands of certain agitators and speculators, who intended, if they could get hold of the released man, to make a show of him at certain houses of entertainment. Several offers for his appearance at public places had been promptly declined. It has been decided by the Home Secretary, after consulting with the members of Parliament who have interested themselves in the case and Ha- ; bron's friends, that the monetary compensation which i 3 fco be granted out of the Queen's Bounty should be invested for his use in the names of the Roman Catholic Bishop of Salford and Mr. F. Deakin. It is stated that Mr. Cross, Mr. Justice Lindley, before whom the trial took place, and the law advisers of the Crown, were convinced beyond doubt of Habron's innocence. The Home Secretary gave Mr. Deakin power to provide for the wants of Habron, to pay his fares to the places he wished to visit, to provide him with new clothes, and charge the co?t to the Home Office. Mr. William Deakin has opened a list of public subscriptions on behalf of the three brothers, whose sayings were all exhausted by the trial, which cost them over £100. A good deal of anxiety was manifested in Manchester on Wednesday to see Habron, but every precaution waß taken to avoid a public demonstration. Habron arrived on Friday evening from Dublin at Ballyhannis, County Mayo. The population turned out, headed by their brass band, and accompanied Habron a mile through the town, on the road to his native village, Cloonfad. Bonfires were lighted at night.