The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-01-06

the half of cigar which had been care
fully deposited upon wooden shelf in
the cell. The firstkhalf Of this Havana,
which had been given him by some
charitable visitor, had appeared so de-
licious to Seymour that he had saved
the second in order to obtain a little
agreeable sensation before dying. 1t
was his adieu to life. to his life that
was represented by the few puffs which
he inhaled as he descended the stair
case When the door of the courtyard
opened and he saw the scaffold before
him the cigar fell from his mouth. But
this little shock was the sole sign given
by the hardy youth to prove that he
had also nerves to conquer. He domi-
mated them Immediately. for he as
cended the few wooden steps without
the slightest tremor. His attitude was
so firm, so simple, so perfectly worthy,
even in the infamy Of public execu-
ton. that silence fell upon the specta-
tors. ID .
Below the sinister rope. which hung
always motionless. a plank had been
arranged hanging over the open and at
tached at one end with a thong of
leather to the scaffold itself. AT the
other end it was held by a hinge to one
Of the two beams forming the gallows
Seymour halted upon this plank. There
the sheriff tied his hands and his feet
passed around his neck the running
knot which terminated the rope, and,
after having enyeloped his face with a
black veil. he withdrew on to the plat
form of the scaffold and asked him:
sHave you anything more to say,
Henry?"
Nothing, Captain" replied the con-
demned man. without movement of
the black cap. so much, was he bent
upon showing himself to be calm
Say, o Savior. remember me in Thy
kingdom cried loud voice at my
CT tIo oil of "a Colonial
"Savior. remember me in Thy king
| DOM" repeated the lisping voice of the
mulatto. Then. after a. little silence.
I'm all right now" with great firm
ness. Goodbye, Captain" he added,
addressing the sheriff; Goodbye, every
| body; goodbye. Colonel"
| Quite instinctively we all cried,
| Goodbye, Henry" and the Colonel.
! louder than the others. Goodbye, my
| boy. Goodbye, my boy" he repeated,
| separated the cord that held the plank
| with one stroke of his axe. 1t fell be-
| low the feet of the poor fellow, who was
precipitated from the entire height of
| his body. I must admit that I turned
| away my head in order that I might
| not see the dreadful sight When /
| looked again the body was hanging
| inert at the extremity of the stretched
| rope. The neck had been broken at
| once. There was upon the faces of all
! the spectators d. SIuS uIdI, dill iHOGIlIldDl6
| expression. They were silent, while out
| side we could still hear the same cries,
| the same whiStling. the same laughter
| that we-the Colonel and HAD listened
| to with disgust from the interior of the
| prison. 1t was the crowd in the street,
which had not seen the man die Final
| ly the doors of the enclosure We're
| opened as a sort of compensation.
Keep quiet, gentlemen" cried the
| sheriff in a loud voice which dominated
|
to see if his heart has stopped beating. .
| A parsonage with a bright. gay face
| had, as a matter of fact. mounted upon
| the scaffold. He drew the hanged man
| toward him and listened. with his ear
| posed upon his chest. After a few in
| stantS of this last auscultation he said
"It is finished letting swing the body
| The sheriff seized it as it passed, saying
/ with the same calm as he would have
| done had he been a porter speaking OF
| a trunk:
II must take this body away now
The old man again took up his axe.
| With one sharp stroke he severed the
| rope just above the still yelled head
| Four volunteer assistants received the
| body in their arms and carried it toward
| the coffin, while the other witnesses of
| this last act of the drama resuming
| their real natures Immediately after the
| disappearance of Seymour's remains, be-
| gan to quarrel for the pieces of rope
and leather straps. The Colonel and !
| made haste to escape from this sinister
| fight, and as we left he said to me:
| II am not going to- conduct you to
| your hotel in my carriage. My daugh-
| ter made me promise to return as quick
ly as possible. SO that she might learn
| if that poor lad said his prayer before
| dying. She has been ill with the mere
| thought of it for forty-eight hours. 1t
| is great consolation for us that he re-
| pented and is saved
| Copyright, 1894, by James Gordon Bennett)