The Washington times., 1923-02-25
Thompson as the Holloway Jail Wardens Supported
on the Scaffold in a Neighboring Prison 7hre1D
at the Breaking Dd1Un
Word About the Woman
With Him
CONTINUED from Preceding Page)

not.
She would revive again with incredible
abruptness. Edith Thompson was
strange woman. At one moment in the
depth of despair, and the next putting
question after question with eye spark
ling and an eager look on her wan
features.
She often asked about Bywaters.
"How is the boy?" she queried. and when
she was told that he was bearing up with
calmness, hopeful of reprieve, she
would burst out again passionately, ooh,
that had his foYtitudeL
owe women are weak creatures when
it comes to time of trial, though, Heaven
knows, try to bear up. But this awful
interminable wait is telling on me-" And
so it was. Mrs. Thompson was twenty
nine years old. She looked several years
older. since entering prison.
She spent her twenty-ninth birthday in
prison. This was an occasion of another
of her astonishing scenes.
81 suppose twenty-nine is not so very
DID," she said. "Yet it seems so old to
me. When one is happy the years do not
count; only when one is in trouble do
they appear frightening.
II feel years and years older than I
really am. think have experienced all
the emotions and fears that is possible for
a human being to experience. Life is
such farcical thing, too. l should not
be afraid of death.
Il do not dread the extreme penalty at
all. But acknowledgements impris-
onment for life-how terrible that is to
contemplate. Dreary are the days I have
spent here in prison; how much more
dreary would they be were | here for
always?
"The thought repels me. I will not
allow it-but can l succeed in choking
back those dread thoughts that harass me
so? 1 shall and must-but, oh how help
less, how unutterably miserable it is to be
here walled up in living tombr'
At the conclusion of this expression Of
pent-up feelings, Mrs. Thompson sank on
to her bed, a limp, exhausted creature
with great, wide-opened, dark-circled eyes
staring before her, expressionless and un-
seeing.
If there is one spectacle in the world
that may be calculated to strike a chord
of sympathy In the breasts of observers
surely it was this-a woman. prematurely
aged; a quivering bundle of nerves;
soul in torment; then one thinks of her
cruel, wicked crime-and feels that,
after all, she deserved no more sympathy
than she gave her murdered husband.
And when, finally, the news reached the
prison that the Home Secretary refused
to interfere with the execution of the law,
because there was overwhelming evidence
that Bywaters and this woman had con-
spired to destroy her husband and had
finally accomplished their cruel purpose
Mrs Thompson took the news quite calm
ly To the establishment of the ward
reSseS, she announced that she knew all
the time that there would be no reprieve.
She then revealed the fact that many
years ago fortune teller had forecast
her life with wonderful accuracy and had
prophesied that she would meet her end
on the gallows. Later on, some years
afterward, she mad met this same fortune
teller and the same fate had been repeat
ed to her in the reading of her palms.
The wardreSSes were impressed with
the feeling that Mrs. Thompson was a
good deal of ar actress, playing the part
of innocent woman at times and at other
times throwing off the mask and realizing
in her own heart that she could not escape
a just punishment for her wickedness.
But as the time now approached for
the day of execution, the prisoner made
less effort to pretend her innocence or
express any faith in escaping the end.
She gave herself over to paroxysms of
grief, which increased in frequency and
violence as the day of execution APP
preached.
How slowly the hours seemed to pass,
that last evening and then, about nine
o'clock a convulsive seizure took place.
Something more than Mysteries this
something more than the unstrung nerves
of sick woman. Her face grew livid
and white by turns, her hands clutched at
the bedclothes, a low, continuous moan
came from between her clenchcd teeth.
What was she seeing then? What ter
rible nightmare pursued her? Was it the
thought of that awful morrow; of the
cold, gray light of a dawn she would
never see again?
The watchers by her bed were alarmed
The doctor was hastily summoned. Drugs
were administered. Every device of medi-
cal science which skill could produce was
called in to afford some temporary relief
For a time the physician battled with
this seizure, which seemed worse thar
death. and then, broken and trembling
and deathly pale, partial reason came back
to the doomed woman.
Her dazed eyes opened Freddie
Freddiew It was half cry, half moan
half love, half delirium. Her arms flung
out. She was calling her lover.
There was another paroxysm. Gently
but firmly she was restrained. And agar
"Freddie, Freddie" Always she came