The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1869-11-06
DAELY JOURNAL
SATURDAY. NOVEMBER s, 1855
From Liprincott's Magazine.l
MURDER MOST FOUL.

l.
After the execution the sheriff for.
warded to Mr. 0rdolf sealed letter
from Randall, written on the eve oil
his death. We give an extract;
I did not do 1t, nor consent to Ii.
nor know of it until the awful deed
was done beyond remedy. | would
willingly have sacrificed a thousand
lives for her, as noT sacrifice life
and reputation to screen the one who
is really guilty. With Mary persisted
every desire IN me for life. 1 long
for death-even the death of the gal
lows. But l would not die leaving
you for ever under the horrible belief
that / am the murderer of our dar-
ling. Oh adjure you to credit me
when / swear here, In che presence OF
God and eternity. that l am innocent.
Mary, who knows me guiltless, will
meet me joyfully beyond the tomb. +
Indiana Randall was said TO be q
raving maniac. From the first arrest
of John Randall she had exhibited
symptoms of mind unsettled by the
weight of sudden and overwhelming
grief. Her family gave out that the
loss of her lover under such fearful
circumstances had temporarily affected
her physical and mental health, aud
friends and acquaintances were re-
quested to forbear their visits until
her recovery was announced, She
was seen rarely, and then under. the
closest surveillance. As the day of
Randall's execution approached, it
was rumored that she grew worse,
aud on that day it was whispered that
she was so violent as to require strong
restraint aud constant watching. And
1t vas so. She was mad, but there
was a terrible method in her mad
ness. She sought to break from her
confinement and rush to the place of
execution. She shrieked aloud aYoW-
ais of her own guilt and declarations
of the innocence of John Randall.
She prayed to be permitted to die in
his stead. Alas, poor wretch! she
was already beyond the vengence of
law. Could her guilt have been
established beyond doubt, she was
now insane, and it was too late to
save the condemned.
Il kaeW," she cried, that he had
gone &c see his wife, perhaps to return
with her, and | watched daily for his
coming back. Constantly alone in
these watches, managed to get one
of Johns pistols from his room, and
this [ carried with me, but only for
self-defeuse. l met them that Sunday
afternoon, and my soul was in q tu-
multi Of emotion as John accosted me
aud introduced me to his wife. His
Wifel Yes I knew it was she before
he told me. I had known for months
of his secret marriage. Suppressing
my feelings as much as / was able, L
endeaVored to be calm. We had met
Just beyond the path which leaves the
main carriage. road and cuts off about
a mile of the distance to the house.
As we all could not ride, suggested
that she and I should walk through
i By the path, while j John drove around
by the road. John strongly objected
to this, but she seemed anxious to
accompany me, and he at last re
luetantly consented.
Il had no idea of hurting her. The
wish was strong in my heart that God
would strike her dead, but | had no
intention of raising my own hand
against her. As We proceeded, talk
ing as well as my state of mind would
allow. we came to the spot where her
body was found There the path
became so narrow that we had 10 go
singly, and it 50 CHANGED that she
went before. 1t flashed upon me like
lightning from hell The place was
desolate and lonely. There she was, q
fow feet In front of me, all uncon-
scious and at my mercy. 1t was
mad imnrlse. but Ia a moment | drew
the piskolAand iredl She fell, but
atten1u u rise | sprang upon her
ir5a,fr If excitement, and kicked,
baa ia choked her until she lay
qui 1eadl"
Eg ehi11P said her pale and
tremblinN athcr, these are but the
distempereG 4ancies of fever. You
have brooded over this unhappy mat
ter until IkIhas quite upset you.
Doubtless you wish TO save John-so
do we ali=4hnt it is folly for you or
any of US, to seek to become sub
stitute for him. My child, take our
assurance that all this circumstantial
account of your killing that unfortu-
nate woman is the mad work of
disordered mind. Calm yourself, in
few days you will be better, and
will have forgotten all that you now
insist on so vehemently."
i "Ah, father" she exclaimed, 1T
may suit your purpose to argue that
| am mad Perhaps / am But L
know my guilt. and / viii no longer
conceal it. You all know it, too.
Who, that fatal evening, kneeled to
the furious and distracted John and
besought him to silence? Whose en-
treaties prevailed on him to adopt
the very course which has brought
him to the scafold? To save me you
will allow him to be sacrificed!
have been deceived long, but it is not
vet too late. I will proclaim my
guilt to the world. [ will take his
place on the gallows! Loose me!
But her cries and struggles were In
vain.
Thus she raved of her real or i'm
aginary part in the horrid tragedy,
giving now a coherent version, as
plausible as it was astounding, and
anon a confused and silly tumble of
impossibilities that aroused naught
but pity and incredulity.
The scaffold from which John Ran
dali had been launched into eternity
vas still standing in the Jail yard,
when one night, close on the stroke
of twelve, the guard behold with ter
ror the nOiseless approach of a form
arrayed in white. AWed to silence
BY the apparition, the guard watched
its motions with breathless attention.
Entering the yard, it proceeded at
once 10 the scaffold and mounted it.
In few moments the staring guard
beheId the figure suddenly sink
through the platform to the shoulders,
where, after some convulsiye motions
il remained stationary. To that
guard il was the ghost of Randall
and he fell lainting with alarm. In