Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1892-05-25
He Walks Upon the Scaffold Unaided
and With Not q Trem0r.
DEATH WITHOUT A STRUGGLE.
sweet-Faced Sisters of Mercy Solace His
Last Evening Hours
SCENES IN AND AROUND THE JAIL

| cTieQ LOT vengeance Dy the Hdnu VI fal
rick Fitzpatrick soul went forth quickl,
and silently. There was only time for
muttered prayer for pardon for possibl
sins and the soul went out. By the hand o
justice the soul of Patrick Fitzpatrick wa
started for the unseen shores after q Ion:
wait A wait so torturous that the mint
consumed the vitality of the body and alb
sorbed its very life.
When hope for life was smothered in tht
breast of the man his religion, the innate
| belief of woman-born man dominated, ant
his last hours were by far more easy thar
had been the preceding ones when tumultu
Gus thoughts surged and ragged within him
The words of reverence he had learned in
innocent childhood came back to him will
ineffable pathos. He communed with hi:
mother. He thought of her. He bent hi!
head while the priest of his religion
stood beside him aud told of divine hopes
and taught him for second time the sacred
prayers for forgiveness. Crime had not
stifed all that was good, and as the number
of his days grew smaller he turned toward
his God and spent his time before an altar
solaced by Priest and Sisters.
The sweet solace in the language of holi-
ness from tine lips of priest and gentle Sis
tiers fell upon his hearing with blissful in
toxication. He lived for his God, and
prayed continuously for divine forgiveness
The few hours of the last evening he
spent in his cell, were with the two Sisters
of Mercy whose womanly spiritual presence
had the salutary effect upon his mind that
scarcely anything else could bring. Fitz-
patrick's prayers, together with the heart
felt ones of the sweet Sisters, welled up
from the bosom of the gloomy Jail in fer
vent and pathetic appeals to the great
tribunal on high.
Yesterday morning the hour of II was
one of vital interest. A large crowd, COM
posed of newspaper men, jurors and Jail
officials, stood in the Warden's office. The
round faced clock licked away the seconds
and the men, although strong in vigorous
manhood, nervously walked back and for
ward over the solid floor and talked
together with bated breath. Fingers tapped
nervously against the chairs and news
papers, behind which some concealed their
twitching countenances, trembled in the
hands that held them. As the minute
hand upon the clock crossed the square
black spot at the midday point the voice
of the Warden, sounding strangely sub
dued, directed the occupants of the room to
the body of the Jail.
Waiting for the Message OF Death.
Over in the doomed mans cell there was
a pathetic scene. The hollow tread of the
men as they passed over the stone floor of the
corridors came into thu cell of the murderer
with an ominous, doomful sound. A per-
ceptible tremor crossed Fitzpatrck's visage
and he fervently kissed the little golden
crucif1 in the hand of his priest. His
hands suddenly became cold and clammy
His eyes burned strangely, but the thin,
bloodless lips moved mechanically as he
prayed and listened with half stopped
pulse to the tread of the feet. This sound
passed away and the silence of the Jail was
only broken by the soft tones of the priests
as they recited their prayers for leniency
for the doomed mans soul. This foreboding
silence continued for several almost interim
Unable moments. Then came the sound of the
officers tread. The mans heart nearly
ceased its beating. The bolts shot back
with a terrible suddenness.
Fitzpatrick was led forth to his death.
Beneath the black domed roof, down the
stone steps, along the cold corridors, past
the gloomy white cells, the man was led with
a priest upon either side, chanting Latin
prayers. Then through the thick stone
doorway and Fitzpatrick was in the sun
light The rays bathed him with warmth
and gave him the same delicious feeling of
life the others enjoyed. His lips moved,
but long, deep inhalation showed in which
direction his thoughts were directed.
Looking His Last on Life.
1t was the mockery of life-freedom in
bondage. He breathed free air at the foot
of the scaffold. The old desire for life came
back to the man with terrible force He
looked around him-saw faces with express
sions OF all kinds. One mans features were
drawn and his face was pale as though he
himself were doomed; another seemed stern
and unrelenting, while others showed no
emotion beyond curiosity. The sound of
voices came taintly over the towering
parapet of the massive wall, and the man
hastened slightly at the thought Of the
curious throng without, eager for
the first sound of the creaking scaffolding
that would announce the fatal fall. He
stepped upon the stairs of the scaffold with
q firm tread, his lips still moving as he
recited mis- prayers, but his thoughts bent
upon some distant scene, passed through ere
the terrible passion came over him to kill.
The spectators shiyered. The man was
upon the platform.
He turned and faced the crowd. He
kissed the cruciix. Then he raised his
eyes to the limitless heavens The desire |
for life again dominated his being. The !
rattle of a wagon passing in the street re-
called him to the awful present An almost |
tremor passed over him. He |
kissed the crucifx, then knelt, while his lips |
moved and the priests prayed. He raised |
MS head to kiss the crucifix. His eye was
attracted by the brightness of the sky. |
He took another deep inhalation of the free |
lir and bowed his head. The moments sped |
way with terrible swiltness.
The Venseancs of Justice App.ased.
Suddenly he felt the hand of the jailer.
His face twitched and his eyes burned, but
lie arose, kissed the crucifx passionately,
hen stepped back upon the fatal trap. The
hin boards bent beneath his weight. He
ooked again to the heavens while his face
rev bloodless as though the spirit had
lready flown. He salute d the crucif1 and
'owed his head in reverence.
The priest held the cross to the lips of the
prisoner and he kissed the sacred emblem
or the last time. He looked hurriedly at
he heavens, then at the crowd, and the
Thite cap was drawn over his head. There
vas an instant of terrible silence. A cloud
'assed between the sun and the earth as
sheriff McCleary, with quiet jerk, pulled
he rope. There was quick, sharp creaking,
nd Patrick Fitzpatrick's s body conyulsiyely
erked and twirled as the fatal cord slowly
trangled him.
The yenpeance of iusfice was anneased |