Perhaps the most trying portion of a trial is the series of depositions that are read as evidence. Jurors are quickly and easily bored by such presentations. Richard Cantillon later wrote that his law partner, Frank Sievers, had an exceptional speaking voice and delivery. As a result, his reading of the depositions was capable of keeping the jurors’ attention throughout. There was some genuine importance to the deposition indicating the insanity of Edward Hickman’s family lineage, including his mother, his maternal grandmother, and his cousin Otto Buck.
The first deposition read was from Thomas Lewis,[1] who was married to Eva Hickman’s sister, Minnie. Lewis recalled that Otto Buck, the son of Eva and Minnie’s brother John, had suffered from epileptic fits since childhood.
“He was foolish. He didn’t have any mind. He talked and acted like a child.”
Lewis also indicated how Eva’s mother, Rebecca Buck, would range in mood from delirious happiness to gloomy despair with alarming frequency. Her husband, Paul Buck, stubbornly refused to admit to her insanity and took to regular prayer that she would settle into some state of normalcy. Of course, that never happened.
Of Eva Hickman, Lewis stated that her erratic behavior began as she started having children. “Her ways indicated that she acted queer, anything would tear her all to pieces, and she talked foolish.” Lewis concluded by stating, “I had a lot of confidence in Edward. If that boy committed this awful crime, he has to be insane. There is no other way of accounting for it.”
Eva Hickman was deemed insane in several of the ensuing depositions. It was the opinion of Artie Smith, sister of William Thomas Hickman; Ida Hickman, who was married to William Thomas Hickman’s brother; and Mrs. Mae Forrester, who had known Eva Hickman for more than twenty-five years.
There were further depositions from doctors who had attended Eva Hickman. Insanity was the prevailing opinion based on her long crying jags, suicide attempts, and violent behavior toward her husband and children. Each of these depositions was read separately as question-and-answer sessions, with all details contained therein. Sievers’s oratory skills continued to maintain the jury’s attention.
But there was a bit of a problem with Mr. Sievers’s great speaking voice. The prosecution attempted to object to Sievers’s delivery, whose inflections appeared to be editorializing the contents of the depositions. But these objections were overruled. The defense continued to present evidence regarding Hickman’s family background, continuing to believe that the insanity of Hickman’s lineage would lead the jurors to conclude that some genetic quality must have overtaken him when he murdered Marion Parker.
However, during the trial, the prosecution presented its case succinctly. A twelve-year-old girl was killed and dismembered by a fiend whose careful plotting before, during, and after the crime showed that he knew exactly what he was doing. It was pure evil from a truly evil person who was too pragmatic in his approach and execution to not be fully sane.
After the depositions, court was adjourned until Monday morning. On Saturday, Cantillon and Walsh met with Hickman. Ordinarily, Hickman had little to say, but on this day, the lawyers found him to be especially excited.
Hickman once again insisted on taking the stand. The lawyers were shocked. They realized that this could hurt their case and felt that they had effectively convinced Hickman that his testifying was a bad idea. Hickman wanted to exhibit the lucidity that his lawyers were trying to prove to be tenuous at best. He perceived the trial in the form of a debate. One side is presenting something to convince the other side, and the two sides are using their oratory skills to prove their point. Hickman considered himself an expert at debating. He had won awards. Hickman was still trying to vindicate the loss that had altered his life forever and led him from petty crimes to the murder and dismemberment of a child. Debating for his very life was just too irresistible.
The lawyers were powerless in their attempts to dissuade Hickman from taking the stand. They had their psychiatrist, Dr. Skoog, visit Hickman the following day. Cantillon recalled that Skoog had a real understanding of Hickman’s personality. They were right. After a long visit during which Skoog and Hickman had a long discussion, Hickman told his lawyers that he no longer was interested in taking the stand. But this would not be the last time he would bring it up.
When court reconvened on Monday, the jurors heard from many people from Hickman’s past. They recalled his popularity and success and also his eventual losing of the oratorical contest that had often been seen as the catalyst that changed his behavior.
Past friends and acquaintances recalled how the bright, likable Hickman became withdrawn and difficult on losing the contest. He decelerated his activities, believing that everyone was talking about him, laughing at him behind his back. This paranoia seeped into his private thoughts to the point where he even started avoiding the people who had once been his closest friends.
One of the more interesting depositions came from James Parker,[2] a thirty-five-year-old former employer of Hickman when Edward worked at a food market killing and dressing live chickens. “He could not kill a chicken. He told me that he just did not have the heart to kill it. I just can’t understand what happened to him. He must have gone completely crazy.”
Hickman sat quietly listening to the depositions from people who had once been his close friends. They could not believe that the boy they knew turned into the evil man who killed and dismembered a little girl. Hickman offered no discernible reaction, at least not until the testimony of Dr. Skoog[3] was offered the following day. Skoog read, from his own notes, an interview he had conducted with Hickman:
Skoog: Do you consider yourself a Christian?
Hickman: No, sir.
S: What are you, then?
H: I have a power over me that is equal and which is more than God to anybody, but that nobody feels. They have something over them, and they are satisfied, and I am satisfied.
S: I understand you wished to study for the ministry.
H: I read the Bible. I have a New Testament, and I have read Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. This morning, I read some of the Revelations. I do not care to read the Old Testament; I don’t understand it, as it has not much in it for me.
S: Is your reading of the New Testament in conformity with this Power you have over you?
H: Yes, I must know what is in it to preach.
S: What is this Power you have over you?
H: It is a Divine Power. It is Providence.
S: Then it is God?
H: No, it is superior to God; it is different; it does not work the same way.
S: Does anyone other than you have the benefit of this Power?
H: No, sir. It is especially for me.
S: Why should you be different from the others?
H: Well, I know I am different.
S: How long have you felt different?
H: Since I was a young boy. When I first came to the city.
S: What age were you then?
H: When I was 12 or 13 years of age. I have not felt like any of the boys or anyone. I don’t think I should feel sorry because I am not the same as other boys.
S: Suppose people were to ridicule you for being, as you say, different?
H: I have been kidded around by lots of people.
S: What did these people think?
H: They were as crazy as I am.
S: Do you think you are crazy?
H: No, I do not.
S: But you just said you were crazy.
H: Crazy has lot different meanings. I have had lots of people call me crazy but I do not believe they meant it. Lots of times you say “crazy” when you just mean queer or silly. But insanity is something I don’t understand. I do not believe I am insane, but I am different from other people.
S: You are not different in appearance, are you?
H: No, I feel different. I see things differently.
S: Now, do the other fellows see you as a different individual?
H: They may and they may not. In other words, as far as looks are concerned, I look just like other people do, but they don’t know how I feel.
S: Do you think I can distinguish any difference in you?
H: After telling you my secret, you can understand.
S: Is what you told me a sacred secret?
H: Yes, sir, I seldom tell anybody.
S: Are you directed to keep it secret?
H: I can tell you. I told my mother of it. I told my friend, Don Johnstone. I told Mr. Cantillon and Dr. Shelton because they must know to understand me. They are helping me. I told Mr. Moise, a reporter who comes to visit me; he is writing a story about me. I never like to disclose my complete views on it; that is, in trying to explain it, I just haven’t words to give the exact idea of it. It talks to me and suggests things. I hear it; I have seen it. Beyond any doubt, it really exists. It has been known to me for a long time. I do not try to overcome this power. It is far greater than I am. I am humble, passive, and obedient to it. It is something I should not try to understand.
S: Can you tell me more about how this Power makes itself known to you?
H: I feel the Power over me. With the aid of this Power, I know I will become great. I never stop to figure it out. If the Power directs me, I do it. I know it will lead to a great end. I think it plans everything for me. It is predestination. All human beings, no matter how smart they are, have only a shade of conception of the universe. But the Power knows all. It is Supreme Greatness. I used the name Providence, but that does not exactly describe it.
S: Do you know of anyone else with whom your Providence communicates?
H: It has not been revealed to anyone else, not even Christ.
S: You say Providence talks to you; how does it sound?
H: It is soft, but powerful. When it is speaking, I cannot move. Chills run down my spine.
S: You have seen pictures of God in white flowing robes. I presume your Providence appears much like God.
H: No, my Providence has fiery eyes; they seem to burn a hole in me.
S: But what robes does it wear? What color?
H: It does not wear robes. It wears a white suit, shirt, tie and shoes. It looks so strong, it frightens me.
S: But why should you be afraid? It is your benefactor.
H: There are things, I told you, I just don’t understand
S: But won’t your Power reveal these things to you?
H: I think it will be told to me, when it wants me to know. Not until then.
The doctor concluded that Hickman’s visions of Providence stemmed from a grandiose delusion that was common in paranoid schizophrenics.
Shortly after Dr. Skoog’s testimony, court was adjourned until the following day. As the lawyers were packing up their briefcases, they were approached by a deputy sheriff telling Walsh and Cantillon that Hickman must see them right away.
Cantillon met with Hickman about an hour later. He found a furious man pacing his cell, his eyes wide. It was not the stress of the situation this time. It was anger—the sort of anger that Hickman may have alluded to in his statements but that never presented itself during this ordeal. It was the sort of all-encompassing anger that could, in fact, be dangerous. Cantillon did not feel in danger. This was a prison, and there were armed guards everywhere. But the attorney realized that Hickman’s agitated state was serious enough to address. After a few seconds of pacing, Cantillon asked Hickman what was wrong. Hickman began shouting at the lawyer.[4]
“I thought those doctors were my friends! I am going to take the stand and tell the jury they are telling a pack of lies!”
Hickman’s sacred secret of his Providence, which he shared with only an intimate few, was broadcast through the courtroom. It would make its way into the newspapers. Hickman was absolutely livid. Something he considered private, special, and even sacred had been revealed as the hallucinogenic ravings of a lunatic. Hickman wanted to plead insanity to save himself from the gallows, but he did not want his spiritual convictions dismissed as craziness.
“Don’t you believe me?” Hickman asked Cantillon.
Hickman then fell to his knees and began sobbing from the very depths of his being. The anguished cries racked his body.
“They didn’t let me know they would do that!”
Cantillon calmed Hickman down, explaining how the testimony would help their case. He explained that an insanity defense forced them to use what they could in order to prove their claim. It would save him from the gallows.
Finally, Hickman stopped crying and regained his composure. He appeared to realize that his attorneys indeed knew what was best for him and for their case.
This was the second time Cantillon had seen Hickman cry.
It was also the last.
The deposition of Thomas Lewis is taken from the court transcripts, vol. 1, 61–84.
The testimony of James Parker is taken from the court transcripts, vol. 1, 458–60.
The testimony of Dr. Skoog is taken from the court transcripts, vol. 2, 807–88.
Richard Cantillon, In Defense of the Fox (Anderson, SC: Droke House/Hallux, 1972).