From Nathan Leopold to Richard Loeb

October 9th, 1923

Dear Dick:

In view or our former relations, I take it for granted that it is unnecessary to make any excuse for writing to you at this time, and still am going to state my reasons for doing so, as this may turn out to be a long letter, and I don't want to cause you the inconvenience of reading it all to find out what it contains if you are not interested in the subjects dealt with.

First, I am enclosing the document which I mentioned to you today, and which I will explain later.  Second, I am going to tell you of a new fact which has come up since our discussion.  And third, I am going to put in writing what my attitude is toward our present relations, with a view of avoiding future misunderstandings, and in the hope (which I think is rather vain) that possibly we may have misunderstood each other, and can yet clear this matter up.

Now, as to the first, I wanted you this afternoon, and still want you, to feel that we are on equal footing legally, and, therefore, I purposely committed the same tort of which you were guilty, the only difference being that in your case the facts would be harder to prove than in mine, should I deny them.  The enclosed document should secure you against changing my mind in admitting the facts, if the matter should come up, as it would prove to any court that they were true.

As to the second.  On your suggestion I immediately phoned Dick Rubel, and speaking from a paper prepared beforehand (to be sure of exact wording) said: "Dick, when we were together yesterday, did I tell you that Dick (Loeb) had told me the things which I then told you, or that it was merely my opinion that I believed them to be so?" I asked this twice to be sure he understood and on the same answer both times (which I took down as he spoke) felt that he did understand.  He replied: "No, you did not tell me that Dick told you these things, but said that they were in your opinion true."

He further denied telling you subsequently that I had said that they were gleaned from conversation with you, and I then told him that he was quite right, that you never had told me.  I further told him that this was merely your suggestion of how to settle a question of fact, that he was in no way implicated, and that neither of us would be angry with him at his reply.  (I imply your assent to this.) This of course proves that you were mistaken this afternoon in the question of my having actually and technically broken confidence, and voids my apology, which I made contingent on proof of this matter.

Now, as to the third, last, and most important question.  When you came to my home this afternoon I expected either to break friendship with you or attempt to kill you unless you told me why you acted as you did yesterday.  You did, however, tell me, and hence the question shifted to the fact that I would act as before if you persisted in thinking me treacherous, either in act (which you waived if Dick's opinion went with mine) or in intention.

Now, I apprehend, though here I am not quite sure, that you said that you did not think me treacherous in intent, nor ever have, but that you considered me in the wrong and expected such a statement from me.  This statement I unconditionally refused to make until such time as I may have become convinced of its truth.

However, the question of our relation I think must be in your hands (unless the above conceptions are mistaken) inasmuch as you have satisfied first one and then the other requirement, upon which I agreed to refrain from attempting to kill you or refusing to continue our friendship.  Hence I have no reason not to continue to be on friendly terms with you, and would under ordinary conditions continue as before.

The only question, then, is with you.  You demand me to perform an act, namely, state that I acted wrongly.  This I refuse.  Now it is up to you to inflict the penalty for this refusal- at your discretion, to break friendship, inflict physical punishment, or anything else you like, or on the other hand, continue as before.  The decision therefore, must rest with you.  This is all of my opinion on the right and wrong of the matter.

Now comes a practical question.  I think that I would ordinarily be expected to, and in fact do expect to continue my attitude toward you, as before, until I learn either by direct words or by conduct on your part which way your decision has been formed.  This I shall do.

Now a word of advice.  I do not wish to influence your decision either way, but I do want to warn you that in case you deem it advisable to discontinue our friendship, that in both our interests extreme care must be had.  The motif of "A falling out of a pair of cocksuckers" would be sure to be popular, which is patently undesirable and forms an irksome but unavoidable bond between us.  Therefore, it is, in my humble opinion, expedient, though our breech need be no less real in fact, yet to observe the conventionalities, such as salutation on the street and a general appearance of at least not unfriendly relations on all occasions when we may be thrown together in public.

Now, Dick,.  I am going to make a request to which I have perhaps no right, and yet which I dare to make also for "Auld Lang Syne."  Will you, if not too inconvenient, let me know your answer (before I leave tomorrow) on the last count?  This, to which I have no right, would greatly help my peace of mind in the next few days when it is most necessary to me.  You can if you will merely call up my home before 12 noon and leave a message saying "Dick says yes," if you wish our relations to continue as before, and "Dick says no," if not.

It is unnecessary to add that your decision will of course have no effect on my keeping to myself our confidences of the past, and that I regret the whole affair more than I can say.

Hoping not to have caused you too much trouble in reading this, I am (for the present) as ever,

Babe

[Enclosure]

"I, Nathan F. Leopold, Jr., being under no duress or compulsion, do hereby affirm and declare that on this, the 9th day of October, 1923, I for reasons of my own locked the door of the room in which I was with one Richard A. Loeb, with the intent of blocking his only feasible mode of egress, and that I further indicated my intention of applying physical force upon the person of the said Richard A. Loeb if necessary to carry out my design, to-wit, to block his only feasible mode of egress."

[This letter was read into the official trial record]

Toledo, Ohio, October 10, 1923, addressed to Mr. Richard A. Loeb, 5107 Ellis Avenue, Chicago, a special delivery letter.

October 10, 20th Century Limited, 1:45 P.M.

Dear Dick:

I want to thank you first of all for your kindness in granting my request of yesterday.  I was highly gratified to hear from you for two reasons, the first sentimental and the second practical.  The first of these is that your prompt reply conclusively proved my previous idea that the whole matter really did mean something to you, and that you respected my wishes, even though we were not very friendly.  This is a great satisfaction, but the second is even greater, in that I imply from the general tenor of your letter that there is a good chance of a reconciliation between us, which I ardently desire, and this belief will give me a peace of mind on which I based my request.

But I fear, Dick, that your letter has failed to settle the controversy itself, as two points are still left open.  These I will now attack.  As I wrote you yesterday, the decision of our relations was in your hands, because it depended entirely on how you wished to treat my refusal to admit that I acted wrongly.  This request you did not answer.  You imply merely that because of my statement that, "I regret the whole matter" I am in part at least admitting what you desire.  I thought twice before putting that phrase in my letter, for fear you might misconstrue it, as in fact you have done.

First, you will note that I said that "I regret the whole matter" (not any single part of it).  By this I meant that I regretted the crime you originally committed (your mistake in judgment) from which the whole consequences flow.  But I did not mean and do not wish to understood as meaning that once this act had been done, I regret anything subsequent.  I do not in fact regret it, because I feel sure, as I felt from the beginning, that should we again become friends, it will be on a basis of better mutual understanding as a result of these unpleasant consequences which I deliberately planned and precipitated.

Furthermore, even if I did not regret those consequences, it would not follow at all that I consider myself to have acted wrongly.  I may regret that it is necessary to go downtown to the dentist, and still not feel that I am acting wrongly in so doing.  Quite the contrary.  So if you insist on my stating that I acted wrongly, as a prerequisite to our renewal of friendship, I feel it duty bound to point out to you that this is not the meaning of what I wrote.  In this do not think that I am trying to avoid a renewal of these relations.  You know how much I desire a renewal but I still feel that I must point this out to you, as I could not consider re-entering these relations when you were under the misapprehensions that I had conceded to what you demanded.  On the basis of this construction of my words, then, Dick, should you base your decision.

Next comes the other point of issue, namely, whether I wish to be a party to a reconciliation, supposing that you wish on the basis of the previous statements to do so.  Here the decisions rests, not with you, but with me.  Now, as I wrote you yesterday, you obviated my first reason for a refusal by telling me what I wanted to know, but another arose, the question of treachery, and that is not quite settled in my mind.  For the purpose of this discussion, I shall not use the short term "treachery" as you suggested in your letter, to cover whatever you want to call it.  I have no desire to quibble over terms, and am sure we both mean the same thing as treachery.  Very well.

The whole question must be divided into two, namely, treachery in act and treachery in intention.  On your suggestion, the first was to be settled by phoning Dick, as I did, I apologizing verbally on condition that you were right, and implying the same apology from you in case you were wrong.

You were proved wrong, and I am sure you are a good enough sport to stick by your statement, unless you question whether I did all you suggested in good faith.  Hence, you remove any previous charge of treachery in act.  If there was such.  But the second is not so simple.  I stated, and still hold, that if you still held me to have acted treacherously in intent, our friendship must cease.  You circumvent that by saying you never could have held this opinion because you believe me to have acted hastily, etc.  I did my best in stating I was wholly responsible for all I said and did, since I had planned it all, and if there were malice at all it would be malice afterthought.  You refuse to believe me.  Now, that is not my fault.

I have done my best to tell you the true facts, (since they were in my disadvantage) and hence have discharged my obligation.  I still insist that I have planned all I did.  You can believe this or not as you like or come to your own decision, or whether you still think I acted treacherously.  If you say you do not, then I shall infer either that you never thought so (although you accuse me of it) or that you have changed your mind (and imply these as an apology for ever thinking so) and continue to be your friend.  All I want from you then is a statement; that you do not now think me to have acted treacherously in intent, which I will construe as above.  Then it is up to you whether you will forego my statement of wrong action or will on your part break up our friendship.

Please wire me at my expense to the Biltmore Hotel, New York, immediately on receipt, stating, one, whether you wish to "break our friendship or to forego my statement, or, two, whether or not you still think me to have acted treacherously.  If you want further discussion on either point merely wire me that you must see me to discuss it before you decide.

Now, that is all that is in point to our controversy but I am going to ask a little more in an effort to explain my system of a Neitzschien philosophy with regard to you.

It may have occurred to you why a mere mistake in judgment on your part should be treated as a crime, when on the part of another it should not be so considered.  Here are the reasons.  In formulating a superman, he is, on account of certain superior qualities inherent in him exempted from the ordinary laws which govern ordinary men.  He is not liable for anything he may do.  Whereas others would be, except for the crime that it is possible for him to commit -- to make a mistake.

Now, obviously any code which conferred upon an individual or upon a group extraordinary privileges without also putting on him extraordinary responsibility would be unfair and bad.  Therefore, an ubermensch is held to have committed a crime every time he errs in judgment, a mistake excusable in others.

But you may say that you have previously made mistakes which I do not treat as crimes.  This is true.  To cite an example, the other night you expressed the opinion and insisted that Marcus Aurelius Antonius was, "practically the founder of stoicism", and in so doing you committed a crime.  But it was a slight crime and I choose to forgive it.  Similarly I have and had before this matter reached -- I don't know what the next word is -- forgiven the crime which you committed in committing the error in judgment which caused the whole train of events.  I did not and do not wish to charge you with a crime, but I feel justified in using any of the consequences of your crime for which you were held responsible to my advantage.  This and only this I did, so you see how careful you must be.

Now, Dick, just one more word to sum up.  Supposing you fulfill both conditions necessary for reconciliation.  One, waive claim to my statement, and, two, state yourself that you no longer think me to have acted treacherously.  We are going to be as good or better friends as before.

I want that to come about very much, but not at the expense of your thinking that I have backed down in any way from my stand, as I am sure of that in my mind and want you to be.

Well, Dick, the best of luck if I do not see you again and thanks in advance for the wire I am sure you will be good enough to send.  Hoping you will be able to decide in the way I obviously want,

I am

Babe.

P.S.  Excuse scrawl.  Train is moving.  Your spelling, young man, is abominable, and I for one should advocate that Tomeie-boy be taken away from your instruction in the subject.

[This letter was read into the official trial record]

Dearest Mompsie and Popsie;

This thing is all too terrible.  I Have thought and thought about it, and even now I do not seem to be able to understand it.  I just cannot seem to figure out how it all came about.

Of one thing I am certain, tho, and that is that I have no one to blame but myself.  I am afraid that you two may try and put the blame upon your own shoulders, and I know that I alone am to blame.  I never was frank with you -- Mompsie and Popsie dear -- and had you suspected anything and came and talked to me I would undoubtedly have denied everything and gone on just the same.  Dr Glueck says that I was bent on destroying myself, and I believe he was right.  I seem to have discarded all the finer things of my life!

Mompsie and Popsie dear -- it may seem terrible, but in one way it is almost providential that I was caught, going on that way, confiding in no one -- there is no telling how far I might have gone.  This way at best I have a long prison sentence staring at me, but I am hopeful that someday I shall be set free again and I really and truly think that I shall be able to do some good and at least live a much better life than I would have been able to do otherwise.

I realize that there is always a chance of the death penalty.  However, I am not worried and I assure you that although I know I never lived the part -- I do know that should I pay the penalty, that I at least will die as becomes the son of such a wonderful father and mother as I know now more than ever that I have.

What I wanted to tell you is that I am not really so hardhearted as I am appearing.  Of course, dearest ones, I am afraid that my heart is not what it should be, else how could I have done what I did?

Dick

[This letter is printed in Irving Stone's Clarence Darrow for the Defense; A Biography]

February 5, 1958

Statement to parole board by Nathan F Leopold, Jr.

It is not possible to compress into a few minutes the thoughts and feelings of thirty-three years, especially if those years have been spent in prison. For here we have long hours to think, to think painfully, to regret bitterly, to repent fervently. A lot of those hours I have spent trying to understand how I could have possibly taken part in the horrible crime of which Richard Loeb and I were guilty. I cannot explain that even to myself. Maybe it cannot be expained satisfactorly, but I can give you a few facts and impressions which come out of my thinking.

I have been trying desperately to fathom this sitiation. I will never quit trying. I admired Richard Loeb extravagantly, beyond all bounds. I literally lived or died on his approval or disapproval. I would have done anything he asked, even when I knew he was wrong, even when I was revolted by what he suggested. And he wanted to do this terrible thing. Why, I cannot be sure. Certainly it was mad, irrational. Maybe there was some kind of juvenile protest, ab overwhelming desire to show that he could do it and get away with it...

I had no desire to do this terrible thing. On the contrary, the idea was repugnant to me. For weeks and weeks, until only a day or two before the crime, I was sure we would never go through with it, that it was only something to talk about and plan but never actually carry out. Loeb made sure thatr we would actually fo it. I could not stop him then, it was too late. I could not back out of the plan without being a quitter, and without forfeiting Loeb's friendship. Hard as it is for me now to understand it, these, at nineteen, seemed more important to me at that time than a young boy's life. True, Loeb did the actual killing, but that does not exonorate me. Where were my moral instincts, my conscience?

The only thing that comes out of my thinking that even bears on it is that at nineteen my growth and developments were unnatural; my thinking was of a grown person; but I had the feelings of an undeveloped infant. I was like an intelligent savage, who knows no law but my own elementary desire...

In school I had no trouble. I learned easily. I was several years ahead of the kids my age. I entered college at fifteen. The result was that I was always in the company if boyss three or four years older than I. What a difference three or four years can make at that age! Wich school studies and the things you learn from books, I had no trouble. But what you learn from people- from your friends- I missed entirely.

You might say I skipped completely the early teens and with that skip I lost the growth of character and the personality rhat normally goes with them. Mt emotions were at least five years behind my thinking. When they did finally catch up. which is not until I had been here in prison five years, I was shocked that I had not been able to feel things more deeply much earlier. Since that day I have been able to live with others as well as myself.

This does not explain much. I wish to God I could explain more; but it is all that has come of my long years of thinking about it...On the one hand, I admired Loeb, was attracted to him with the violence and lopsidedness only extreme youth can know. On the other hand, I missed the growth and development that takes place in the early teens; I did not have the moral strength and understanding to resist.

When my emotions did finally mature, when about twenty five, remorse for what I had done set in and has never left me since; not for a single day. How can I hope to explain to you about that? To understand it, a man would have had to experience it, would have to have done something as horrible as I did, and repent it. You cannot possibly picture it. I canot describe it.

Certainly it is the strongest emotion I have ever had. It is with me constantly, sometimes in the front of my mind so that I can think of nothing else, but even when my mind is occupied with other problems, it is always there in the corner of my mind. It tinges my thinking all day, every day.

If you have stolen something you can return it, or you can work to pay its owner back. Even if you have injured somebody physically, you can try somehow to make it up to him. But to participate in the death of a human life, what is there you can do? You cannot bring the victim back to life.

Gentlemen, it is not easy to live with murder on your conscience. The fact that you know you did not do the actual killing does not help. My punishment has not been light. I have spent over one third of a century in prison. During that time I have lost most of those who were near and dear to me. I never had an opportunity to say a prayer on their graves; I forfeited all home and family; forfeited all the chance of an honorable career. But the worst punishment comes from inside me. It is the torment of my own conscience. I can say that will be true the rest of my days.

The only thing I have found in all these years that helped at all is to try to be useful to others. There are not many opportunities in prison to help other people. What few I have been able to find, I have seized eagerly- the prison correspondence school for exmple, and the malaria project. To them I have given my best effort. For it is when I have been able to be useful in a minor way rhat I have been happiest- or, at least, least unhappy...

One suggestion has been made that horrifies me- that if you order my release, I spend my time lecturing on juvenile delinquency, or the causes of crime. I shudder at the thought. I am not an expert on anything. I will be lucky if I can make myy own way if I am fortunate enough to be paroled. certainly, I am not competent to lecture to others.

If I am fortunate enough to be releasedm all I want is to find some quiet spot with some organization, where I can live quietly and modestly in an attempt to attone for my crime.

Nathan F. Leopold Jr.

Mr Douglas S Middleton
7170 East Nevada
Detroit 34, Michigan

Dear Mr. Middleton,

Thank you very much for your prompt answer to my request for information about the current location of nesting sites of the Kirtland's Warbler and for your willingness to direct Dr. and Mrs. Church to them.  They are very dear friends and I shall appreciate deeply any help you can give them.

They are leaving the Project to return to the States this coming Friday: so your letter arrived just in time for me to convey to them your invitation to call on you.  They will be in Detroit during the first week of June and will contact you by telephone.  Thanks again for your willingness to help.

The more you tell me about the Kirtland Warbler monograph, the more interested I become.  Evidently this is to be a really elaborate and complete summing up of what is known about the species.  Do you mean by "The Museum of Zoology" the one at the University of Michigan, where Norman A Wood was curator of birds in my student days?  Or is this a Detroit museum?  I do hope you will remember to let me know of the progress in the work from time to time.  I shall always be interested.

I now regret more than ever that there is nothing U can do to help, even to so small a thing as supplying a reprint of my own paper.  It does occur to me that I have in storage in the States the original motion picture of the Kirtland's Warbler at its nesting sight (Oscoda in this case) which we made in June 1923 and which I showed at the meeting of the A.O.U in Cambridge, Mass., in October of that year.  It has been stored these 35 years in a conventional lead motion-picture container and I have no idea whether it would still be usable.  Further, the photography is that of 1923 and anything but expert.  But if this monograph is to contain certain historical sections concerning what has been known about Kirtland's at various times, perhaps the film might be of some use to you or Mr Mayfield.  If you think it would be of any value, I should be glad to arrange to have it sent to you.  I also still retain title to the habitat group of Kirtland's with nest and nestlings, which is now stored at the Museum of Natural Science in Chicago.  This might be somewhat more difficult to get hold of, but that too might perhaps be done if it would be of any use in the proposed monograph.

Thank you again for your helpfulness.

Dear Mr Middleton:

The other day I heard from Mr. Mayfield and have ordered my copy of the Kirtland's monograph.

Since the monograph is now complete you will have no further need for the reprint of my article from the AUK.  This, you will remember, was sent to you by Mrs. Herbert Hirsch sometime shortly after July 30, 1958.  I'd appreciate it a lot if you would return it to me.

I am looking forward eagerly to Mr Mayfield's book.

Went out Sunday, Oct 9, for our semiannual Columbus Day bird census (the other semiannual is at Christmas) and, for the first time in Puerto Rico broke 100.  Saw 101 species to be precise.  Two new birds on my life list: Hudsonian Curlew and Hudsonian Goodwit.  The latter is a first for Puerto Rico.  Luckily, every ornithologist of standing on the island was with me when we saw it and the bird let us study it at 20 feet for half an hour.  So there's no argument!

One of these days, leisure and finances permitting, I hope to co-author, with Dr. McCandless, a "Birds of Puerto Rico."  There really is nothing very satisfactory on the market.  Probable publication date about 20 years from now! Shall I put you down for a copy?

Thanks in advance for returning the reprint and thanks especially for alerting me and putting me into touch with these recent developments in the matter of my old favorite the Kirtland's Warbler.