This week’s reading primarily made me question whether there is some type of commonality among the various counterfeiters: Were these men all victims/participants in some sort of circumstance that led to a path of deceit? Yet, upon examination I discovered that all of the narratives evince variations on economic status, personal grievances, and location. Thus, while there are points of similarity, the differences strike me as even more significant. These disparities indicate that even though every counterfeiter wanted to obtain a better life, they were also individually presented with a unique opportunity to transgress early American laws. Particularly, their assignations of blame upon different sources interested me because not a single so-called “author” of the scaffold confessions admitted directly to his own culpability. Whether it is a personal demon, Satan himself, accomplices, or abounding sorrow, all of these counterfeiters are reluctant to acknowledge their own roles in bringing about their punishment. For example, though Isaac Frasier’s narrative speaks in sermon-like language and frequently exhorts the reader to avoid Frasier’s “heinous” example, he nevertheless also points to the evil influence of both Satan and a mistress: “My mistress, whose duty is was to have set me a good example, was in some measure the means of eradicating from my mind, the few principles of honesty which had been implanted by my mother’s wholesome instruction.” In a different vein, John Jubeart blames the death of his wife for being the primary cause to his self-imposed nomadic lifestyle. The others have equally distinctive reasons for committing crimes, even if the desired result is the same; all of these men wanted to live in ease, free from having to toil on farm land or fight in the army. Perhaps this is why Frasier often steals clothing—he believes that the outward appearance of wealth will momentarily “satisfy a thirst like mine [Frasier’s].”
While all the counterfeiters in this week’s reading try to satisfy their “thirst” for riches, they also believe that they may obtain a pardon for their crimes. Thus, rarely do they relish in their recollections of executing frauds and escapes. Instead, a penitent tone overlaid with a sense of heroic sacrifice comes through. All of these men attempt to exonerate their victims, their families, or their accomplices. Thus, Joseph-Bill Packer refuses to force needy families to pay him, and Owen Syllavan urges a guilty woman to claim that she received the fake money from him so that she might avoid punishment. This begs the question: Are these men truly the lovable bandits that they claim to be? Alternatively, what I suspect is that either the counterfeiters or the printers recognized that Americans would admire characters who broke rules but avoided harming those close to them. Obviously, this attempted heroism is not always achieved; Frasier’s treatment of Widow Grant indicates that Frasier cannot completely disregard the ruthless criminality of his past. However, for the most part, the counterfeiters attempt to assuage their blame through emphasizing the kind or sacrificial services they rendered to others.
In regards to this week’s reading of Bakhtin, I believe that the concept of heteroglossia can be illuminating in reading these scaffold confessions. For example, looking specifically at Herman Rosencrantz’s narrative, we see a blend of implied languages. Rosencrantz uses standard English to describe his various exploits, but he also includes Biblical verses, which have the power of recalling Hebrew, Greek, or Latin. The speaker puts this “differentiated speech” into his story in order to intimate a sense of piety and knowledge. However, these reminders of ancient languages contrast with Rosencrantz’s actual deeds. He uses Biblical verses to protest his innocence in certain areas: “The command in my heart was, THOU SHALT NOT STEAL; which I always kept.” Yet, this is a highly ironic statement, given the fact that counterfeiting is certainly a form of stealing. This tension between the narrative and the implied language creates an interaction filled with paradoxical discrepancies. As Susan Vice puts it, “Heteroglot difference can produce a variety of effects, related to time (the past), space (geography, nationality), class, and so on […]” (Vice 21). In Rosencrantz’s case, whether willingly or not, he has furnished the reader with a way to observe these differences, and perhaps this works contrary to what he wishes to impart, namely, that he is a good, Christian man who has merely lost control of his sense of ethics. Unfortunately for Rosencrantz, if we examine the implications of heteroglossia interactions within the text, an altogether different result arises. For all of the counterfeiters and thieves, their purported confessions suggest that they are depicting themselves as distinct criminals of a certain class; they are not murders or slanderers, they simply needed something and took it. However, their attempt to lessen the nature of their crimes actually heightens the sense of personal responsibility that they must ultimately pay for by hanging. In sum, I believe that these texts show us how, even right before death, these counterfeiters were true con men—able to lie, exaggerate, and most importantly, manipulate their tales to fit what they knew Americans would want to hear.
