West Jersey Pioneer

STOKES.

The recent trial of this unhappy man presents to the American people a symbol of warning against many of the practices of its society. These practices are not all of them openly legalized, nor are they all socially accepted, yet still they exist, and exist without that distinctive and degrading condemnation which bars a man from respectable society, or public acceptance. Stock gambling is generally the initiative to this class of successive evils. A few men like Jay Gould and Daniel Drew, can resist its attraction toward licentiousness, but the mass, like James Fisk and the ruined man, whose name heads this article pass onward to drinking, some of them to infamous women, and a few to that inflammation of their passion, which only murder can allay.

The case of Edwin Stokes, involves all of these points. He went from Philadelphia to New York, a carefully reared youth, with probably no stain of secret vice, certainly no practice of open ones upon him. His person was singularly beautiful, his countenance open and ingenuous, his manners more than ordinarily pleasing and attractive. He engaged in business, at once remunerative and reputable, and bade fair for the achievement of steady and eventually large financial success. Business relations threw him into the company of James Fisk, the most dazzlingly successful of the young men of his time. He simply dealt in stocks, at least that was nearly all that was made apparent, and he lived in a style of vulgar affluence and display, which rivalled the barbaric splendors of the Asiatic chiefs in the days of romance. There seems no power in the law to arrest him, and no such reprobation of public opinion as marked him an outcast. The worst feature in Mr. Fisk's career, was, not so much the wickedness he committed, as in the fact that that wickedness, so attractive to the unregulated passions of youth, was practiced without any probability of punishment. It, no doubt had its influence in this way upon Stokes. An intimacy sprang up between himself and Fisk, and with the abandonment of early youth, he followed him in all his paths of evil; gambling, drinking and debauchery were now the recreations of his life, and he bade fair to rival his teacher and patron in these evils, if he could not in the cooler and more scheming villainy, which daily wrung from the dividends of "Erie," the means of a splendid licentiousness. He was in no sense the equal of Fisk in unscrupulous ability. He far surpassed him in attractive intelligence, in beauty of feature, symmetry of person, winning and nameless grace of manner. These qualities won him the favor of the beautiful Josephine Mansfield, and from that time, he and Fisk were open enemies. After that, the war was open. Fisk steadily endeavoring to ruin Stokes, and gradually proceeding toward its accomplishment; and Stokes fretting and worrying over approaching destruction, which he saw to be inevitable. Fisk had ability enough to destroy him, and he saw instinctively that this was precisely what must be the result.

It was the boast of Fisk, that no man ever crossed his path without meeting his reward: and Stokes felt it to be true. Day by day the lines drew closer, and he thought the only way to save himself was to destroy his adversary. The few efforts he made in this direction financially were abortive failures, and in the madness of inflamed passion, he put him out of the way by murdering him. Just at that time there did not seem to be so fearful a risk in doing this as there does now. The courts of New York were fearfully corrupt, and "hanging is played out," was a favorite motto. There had been nearly a murder a day in New York for the preceding year, and scarcely a case had met the penalty of its crime. Where there was wealth, the murderer generally escaped; and Stokes could not feel as if the consequences of such a deed would visit him very fearfully, at least in this world—and the other one, he does not appear to have cared much about. The circumstances of the murder are too familiar to need recapitulation. Unfortunately for Stokes, the career of public villainy in New York was about being checked, and the corrupt Judges deprived of power. The "Ring" of the city met with a terrible downfall. The Erie ring went next, and the unscrupulous Judges followed. Public sentiment sustained the change, and a revulsion of public feeling made the situation a dangerous one. The one circumstance in his favor was, that there was little sympathy felt for his victim, outside the fact that he had been murdered. The people generally, were glad that Fisk was dead. The family of Stokes was sufficiently wealthy to secure the best of counsel, and supply the arguments which had formerly weighed largely with a New York jury. The immediate associates of Mr. Fisk, preferred that as few as possible of his deeds should see the light, and would do but little to convict his murderer. At most it did not look as if there would be anything beyond manslaughter, and that penalty could be mostly condoned for money. The trial came on, and resulted in the disagreement of the jury. Almost all apprehension ceased in the mind of the prisoner, for a second disagreement would entitle him to bail, and all that was needful then, was to forfeit that, and leave the country. So sure, did they feel that this would be the result, that it is said the bonds were all prepared for immediate filling up, and the passage engaged for Europe. But the people were steadily progressing toward the old ideas of justice, and punishment for crime, was once more their sentiment. Probably in their fancied security, bribery had been neglected, or else failed to accomplish its object, for the records show that a juror who will accept a bribe, must have his pay beforehand, and is then as likely to prove a traitor as anything else. Whatever was the reason, it is perfectly evident that Stokes looked confidently forward to either an acquittal or a disagreement of the Jury. No one was as much astonished as himself at the verdict of murder. As the case now stands, there does not appear to be much hope for him. A bill of exceptions has been filed, but the Judges do not dare to risk the outrages of the past for fear of their position, and it is not likely that a new trial will be granted. The public sentiment now favors the punishment of crime, and General Dix is not likely to interfere by a pardon.