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Title: Stephen Dee Richards - Non-Fiction
Chapters:
Stephen Dee Richards - Introduction
Stephen Dee Richards - First Confession
Stephen Dee Richards - Second Confession
Stephen Dee Richards - The Execution
Stephen Dee Richards - A History of His Killings
Introduction
*This is a real event that happened.
Stephen Dee Richards, who was hanged on the 26th
day of April 1879, at Minden, Nebraska, for the murder of Peter Anderson, was born in the state of Ohio, and came West in 1876, in search of adventure.
Besides killing Anderson, Richards confesses to the murder of the Harlson family, consisting of four per-
sons, the mother and three children, and three other similar crimes committed in various parts of the state, and a cold-blooded murder in Iowa. From this it will appear that the playful Stephen was considerable of a butcher,
" I have killed nine persons," said the arch-fiend, speaking to the author of this sketch, "and I can't say that I feel any the worse for it. 1 have only one wish now in the world. I wish to kill two more persons."
The writer held his breath. Doubting, wondering, and fearing, he asked "Who?"
"A preacher and a reporter" was the quick reply.
When Richards was interviewed by a Times reporter in Chicago, he threatened to break the young man
in two. Just what the grievance was the writer has not been able to discover; but at any rate the Times man went away without so much as a syllable of sensation to give his paper.
Richards^ never had a friendly feeling for any newspaperman, and often expressed a wish to "get away " with some member of the fraternity, which if done, he said he could die happy.
"But how about the preacher, Richards?"
He smiled blandly and said: "It would sort of
give ' tone ' to my life, if I could kill a preacher, you
know."
The murder of Mrs. Harlson and her three children was one of the most brutal affairs that ever happened in this country.
"When you killed the three children of Mrs. Harl- son," asked the writer on one occasion, of Richards, " did you not feel conscience-stricken, a pang of awful regret, or that you was committing a terrible wrong?"
The monster laughed sardonically, and with a carelessness that was at once strange and terrible, replied : "Not a d — n bit; just as soon have slaughtered so many pigs. One blow of the axe settled 'em, one after the other, and all was over. The grave was all ready, and I hauled the carcasses out and chucked them in. As for a 'pang,' as you call it, I didn't feel anything only that I had got rid of the crowd."
Richards knew the children of Mrs. Harlson well, and used to play with them, and romp about the room, the little girls laughing and making music with their happy voices — their arms about his neck, their pure, childish faces pressed against his own; and the little boy Jesse clinging about him and filling the room with his childish prattle; and all three innocents trusting in him, believing him, and loving hirn.
On the day before the murder, this scene took place just as we have described it, and on the following morning Mrs. Harlson and her three children were killed, one after the other, in the most inhuman manner. In his confession, which we give further on, Richards explains very minutely how the deed was done; how in the early morning he rose from his bed, stole softly out and quietly closed the door; looked around to see if He were alone, crept panther-like away, finding the spade, with which he dug the grave of his victims. The sun had not yet risen when he completed his ghoul-like work. He knew the family would not be awake when he returned. He stole back as quietly as he had come. He was not startled as other men would have been; he was not afraid; he had had a taste of human blood before. He thought a moment as to the weapon he should use to do the deed, and a moment later seized an axe — the weapon of murderers — and again pushed forward, slowly, stealthily, cautiously, like some monster beast of prey. He did not think then of anything but the bloody tragedy he was about to enact ; and even the rabbit that bounded across his pathway, or the cock that crowed on the limb above his head, or the wild bird that, startled by some strange foreboding instinct of evil, uttered a sharp cry, and fluttered away out of light, awakened in him only a momentary surprise. In a moment his hand was on the door; he raised the
latch; he stepped in. Then he listened and looked with eager, glittering eyes at his sleeping victims. He could not see the faces of either of the three children or their mother, but their forms were clearly outlined on the coverlet. For some strange reason, which he himself cannot explain, he crossed the room and pulled the curtain Jaside just a trifle; a streak*of daylight shot in like an arrow .from a bow, and darted across the partially covered head of the little girl, Daisy. It was only for a moment, but the sleeping child felt the influence, and, turning over, threw her two white baby hands above her head, and, with her pearly teeth shining through her flaxen curls that fell in masses over her face, whispered, as if in dreams, "Mamma! mamma!" It was enough to touch a heart of adamant; but Richards did not heed it; his mind was bent on blood; he could feel nothing, knew nothing, was conscious of nothing but the one horrible purpose of murder. Waiting a moment, as if to bring his whole strength to bear on the accomplishment of his devilish purpose, he approached the bed where Mrs. Harlson was sleeping, and struck the fatal blow. The mother died without a struggle or a moan. Mabel was killed next, then Daisy, and afterward Jesse, who occupied the baby crib at the foot of the bed. After killing them, the monster carried the mother first to the grave he had dug for her, and then the children, and threw them in like so many animals.
"And you did all this without so much as a pang of conscience?" asked the writer, to whom the murderer was detailing the horrible circumstance, and smiling now and then as he did so.
"When I was a boy," answered the wretch, "I was
sent out to kill a litter of kittens, and I did it by striking their heads against a tree — smashing out theii brains, one by one; I didn't feel bad about it at all— it was fun. I experienced the same sort of feeling when I killed these little Harison kids; just as soon have strangled so many kittens or brained them against a tree."
"And you did all this in thirty minutes ? " asked the writer on a subsequent visit to. Richards. He re- plied: "I can put people on end as fast as anybody, but thirty minutes is too short a time to get in all that work; that would take too lively humping."
In the murder of Anderson, the Swede, Richards showed the same sort of unconcern. He murdered him in cold blood, and while the body was still in the house, and only a step away, he sat down and coolly ate his dinner.
A friend of the writer accompanied him to the Penitentiary, where Richards w r as confined, and returning
to town, said :
" He does not look like a murderer; he has a pleasant face, his voice is like a woman's, and his eyes are not at all savage; on the contrary, they are mild and rather expressive of confidence. Can a man with such eyes be a murderer? "
Oftentimes the mild-mannered man is the greater villian; the man with the ministerial mien the thief; the honest looking farmer fellow the pick-pocket. And then again people appear different at different times, There is always a lull in nature before a storm; and behind the quiet, pleasant gentleman there may bo the blackest devil. No one took Richards to be the man he was. A moment his eyes were mild, but watch them closely and they changed just as his mind changed from one thought to another. When detailing the Harlson murder, the eyes of the monster turn-
ed from one shade to another, and glittered now and then with the inhumanity and cruelty of a devil. Far from having mild eyes, Richards had eyes of the most savage character. In repose, they were of a steel-gray color, of medium size, and continually roving. He seldom looked a person in the face for any length of time; and when he did, unless excited or engaged in telling some of his exploits, there was an expression about his eyes that was pleasing.
Richards has been pretty generally described by the newspapers; and while some have characterized him as a gawky boy, others have spoken of him as a finely formed, well-balanced man. In truth, he is neither the one nor the other. At eighteen years of age, he was a man in size, and heavier then than at the time of his execution. Standing erect he was six feet three inches tall and averaged 170 pounds in weight. At the prison, he was pretty generally considered a handsome man, though his features were too coarse for that. As we have said before, his eyes were steel gray, almost blue, very keen and penetrating, and withal restless and suspicious. His forehead was rather broad, but low, and his hair, which was nearly black, and inclined to curl, fell over it like a mane. A sensual mouth, rather large, set with good teeth, high cheek bones, a slightly protruding chin — in all a face not handsome, but striking; a face that you would remember if you saw it once, and never forget the place and time.
The peculiarities of this prince of murderers are well worthy the study of a scientist. Knowing that he was to die — that no possible hope was left him, he was as vain as a peacock in every particular. Speak- ing about his approaching execution he said he "wish- ed to look well at the time," and was very anxious for a new suit of clothes to "drop off in." When asked if he would not like to have his picture taken, he an- swered "yes," and seemed delighted at the idea of having it adorn the fly-leaf of a book, and being "written up." When told that the book could not be brought out until after he was dead, he seemed a little disappointed, but at the same time expressed a wish
that the same might be brought out "in good style."
When the artist came to take his picture, he was not prepared for the operation, and said he thought he was not "dressed well enough;" and when, after working on his toilet for an hour or more, he placed himself under the artist's care, he was wondrously
particular as to the lay of his hair, the set of his collar, or the more becoming style of his neck-tie. Can there be anything more horribly absurd than this?
It is the popular belief that all criminals are drink- ing men, but Richards was not; neither was head- dieted to gambling, the use of tobacco to any great extent, nor was he inordinately profane. Indeed, he was nothing more nor less than a cold-blooded murderer !
The family of the murderer, we understand, are quite respectable people. He has five sisters living, and during his confinement in prison, awaiting his execution, frequently letters passed between them.
As for his father, he said that he did not expect to hear irom him; he had disgraced him and was unworthy to be called his son. Indeed, he did not express a wish to see any of his family, but preferred to die alone.
During his stay in the State Prison, Richards received many callers and was considerable of a study to his visitors. He was very fond of admiration and could be flattered into almost anything. He was called a handsome man by the ladies, with whom, by his own confession, he had had many adventures. In his talk about himself and his life in Western Nebraska,
he frequently spoke of one "Dolly," a particular iriend of his living near Hastings, but refused, as he expressed it, to " give her away."
What we have written is an introduction, as it were, to a full confession of the man, which we herewith i*;ive. The language used is as nearly his own as we could give it and do justice to the subject. It is not easy to get the whole truth out of such a man as Richards, but if there is anything in his confession, a statement of any kind, not in accordance with facts, we do not know it. The confession was taken at the State Prison, at Lincoln, Neb., January 22 and 23, 1879, by D. P. Ashburn, ex-member of the Nebraska Legislature, who knew Richards well, and had every opportunity to learn the true history of this fiend in human form. The substance of the confession was afterward given the writer of these pages, and there no discrepancies appear in the double confession. Deputy Warden Nobes, of the Nebraska Prison, heard him give the details of the Harlson family butchery as given below. Its truthfulness cannot be doubted, though as the day of execution approached he sought to soften the story, as will appear further on. The confession was obtained by Mr. Ashburn for the purpose of developing if possible some of the crimes perpetrated in Westen Nebraska, but Eichards refused to make any revelations implicating any other person.
Next Chapter: THE CONFESSION
Part 1: Introduction
Part 2: The Confession
Part3: Second Confession
Part 4: A History of His Killings and Crimes
Part 5: The Execution