Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1892-02-12
The End OF of"Eitz."

! F. c. FitZsimmons, confined in a cell IL
the New Orleans jail, cut his throat las
| Thursday morning and died that night
The knife used was a small Surgeons tnif,
that he kept concealed in the lining of hi
vest.
That morning the Pittsburg detectives
visited the Jail. They wanted to see the old
prison as well as the leading attraction in
it and asked TO be shown through it before
going to see Fitzsimmons. While they
were in the yard Fitzsimmons saw them
and his heart sank within him. The
prisoners on the same range say he seemed
to have lost all hope. He asked keeper
for some paper and he spent few minutes
in writing. Then he remarked that he
didn't get much sleep last night and he
would lie down for a short time.
He stretched himself out on one of the
rude cots the ancient prison is supplied
with and covered his head with blanket.
Before doing this be took the picture of his
little daughter from his pocket and gazed
at it affec,ionately for a minute or two,
kissing it when he thought he was not
observed. As he lay with his head covered
one prisoner in the same cell remarked to
another that Fiztsimmons was queer man
lying that way when the weather was so
warm. They saw his arm move several
times and heard him groan, but they
thought he was dreaming.
Just then the Pittsburg men came up
the stairway and their guide said: There's
your man lying on that cot" Murphy
walked over to him and asked: ''Are you
sAeepingf" Fitzsimmons made no reply,
and then Murphy remarked jocosely to his
friends: Hes dead" He raised the
blanket and was Mortified to see the blood
streaming from a dozen wounds in the
murderer's throat.
My God, he's done it, said Murphy
when he recovered himself
ishment
HE has cut his throat"
A telegram vas sent to central police
station for the coroner, who Is physician,
and DIR. Robbins, who was passing in a
cab, was brought up, and be stopped the
flow of blood and sewed up the ugly
wounds, but not before quart or more OF
blood had been lost by the desperate.
Murphy asked him why he cut his throat,
but all that Fi,zsimmons could say was:
LET me GO, Murphy; let me CO."
In one hand ne clutch ed the tiny surgical
knife and in the other the picture of his
child He prayed for death and entreated
these about him to finish the job, out they
only worked the harder to save his life. In
a few minutes he rallied and asked for an
Eq iscopal minister. One was summoned
and FiI1simmons tried to tell story show
ing that he was justified in the killing of
Gllkinson. Though he was nearly dead,
the story told was an untruth, and he told
it with his oldtime assurance.
The letter he wrote was as follows.
To Z. Ii. Filzsimmons, VIM. Fitzsimmons,
Esq Mr. Caster, Chief OF Police; Times,
Democrat and Picayune:
To The CITIZENS OF NEW ORLEANS
The Sunny South and the Crescent City
carry none but the most pleasant recol-
lection IN my memory. Fifteen years ago
made my first visit. l have nel er found
its citizens other than both charitable and
humane. True, the last year OF my ex
istence was that of a lamentable character
in my life. l have pursued crime with its
fatal consequences. My liberty is again
and, as liberty or death is
paramount i'll my mind, prefer the latter,
thus relieving myself of further mental and
ply ysical pain, disgrace and slow death,
aud dragging farther in the mire the good
name OF my honorable and respectable
pare1ts and my relatives My beloved
wife is the daughter ofa New Orleans once
popular and respected citizen. My wife,
Lucy Rebecca Fitzsimons, was improperly
convicted at the Allegheny court house of
murder of the second degree through the
testimony OF a perjuring detective, a pre-
JUDGED jury and judge and is still in i'm
prisonment. Knowing that / am about to
hurl myself into eternity do most solemn
ly swear that my wife is as innocent in any
completely to the crime charged at my
door as new born babe. 1 effected my
escape from the Allegheny county Jail be-
cause toresaw my conviction before my
trial began. The bright sunny atmosphere
which surrounded my soul is replaced by
gloom and a sad heart that only death can
alleviate.
Respectfully,
+. G. FITzsIMMoNs.