A Bit of Human Nature.

1895

"Did you see that, mister?" said an elevated railroad guard to a man who stood with him on the rear platform of the first car the other night.

"Yes."

"Well, then," added the guard, "you saw my three little children. They were kneeling at a trunk in front of the window of that house we passed. Over them stood their mother. She was about sending them to bed, but before they go she teaches 'em to pray for me, and she brings 'em there so I can see 'em.

"And," he added, with a manly attempt to keep his voice from trembling, "she has told me what she tells 'em to say."

"What is it?"

"I hope you won't think me childish, sir; but, as I guess you are a married man and a father, you may care to hear it. You see, it's this way: The kids go to bed at 9. That's about the time my train goes by the house. So just then she brings them up to the trunk in their nightgowns and makes 'em kneel down, with their hands clasped on their faces. And then they pray that papa will be good and kind and keep sober and bring home all his money, and" — The big guard's voice trembled.

"I'm rough, tough and all that," he at length continued, "but I love my wife, and I love my children. They are the only ones on earth that keep me straight.

"Bleeck-e-e-er! Good night, sir." And the train proceeded, leaving at least one man with tears in his eyes. — New York Recorder.

What Is a Dead Dog Worth? Up to Court

1920

$100 Is Value Placed by Woman on Animal Killed by Auto

SAN FRANCISCO, Cal. — What is a dead dog worth?

If it happens to have been a handsome pet of French poodle-Eskimo breed its value should be fixed at $100 at least, says Mrs. Ella Doyle.

But if it didn't know any better than to run in front of an automobile it isn't worth anything, replies F. M. Stich, a San Francisco merchant.

Justice of the Peace A. T. Barnet is to have the final "say" in the dispute.

The animal was run over and killed by Stich's auto while out for an airing with Mrs. Doyle, its owner. It is the contention of Mrs. Doyle that the machine was operated negligently. She asks $100 damages.

The dog was so intelligent it would even say its prayers before retiring at night, according to the plaintiff.

Wretched Men Meet Their Fate at Hanging, Last Words Given

Pennsylvania, 1877

MURDER EXPIATED.

Eleven[*] Men Appease the Offended Law

How the Wretched Men Met Their Fate — Last Words on the Scaffold.

POTTSVILLE, June 21. — The weather this morning at daybreak was dull and heavy, and before long a drizzling rain began to fall, without, however, diminishing the crowd already in waiting outside the jail. The general suspension of business throughout the surrounding country in deference to the extraordinary events of the day, and the funeral quiet attending the preparations for the executions, served to make more impressive the tragic occurrence which marked this most eventful day in the criminal calendar of the State.

THE FAREWELL SCENE.

Meanwhile the immediate relatives of the condemned took their last farewell. The scene was a trying one. The brother and two sisters of Roarity were admitted at 6, and soon after the aged and impoverished father of Munley, who had walked to prison all the way from Gilberton, a distance of thirteen miles. Several of the relatives of others, not having applied at the proper time, were not admitted. To each of the doomed men had been assigned a clergyman, who attended his charge in his dying moments. The reverend gentlemen were in attendance at the cells of the men at dawn this morning, and afterward assisted in the celebration of mass in a private apartment.

All access to the men by other than the Sheriff and his assistants and the spiritual advisers, had been scrupulously avoided. They are reported as having passed the night well, and at the usual time breakfast was served for each, though this was barely touched by any of them. Carroll, Munley and Roarity expressed their eagerness to die, and were apparently calm and resigned. The last named this morning received a letter from his father, urging him to turn his thoughts heavenward, and while admonishing him of his parents' belief in his innocence, advised him to confess the truth before God and the world.

NEARING THE END.

After several hours of patient waiting, the witnesses of the execution gradually closed up around the outstretched rope extending from one end of the yard to the other, which barred intrusion upon the reserved space in front of the gallows. The relatives and friends of several of the men were allowed to witness the dread spectacle.

MOUNTING THE SCAFFOLD.

The entire party mounted the steps of the scaffold nearest in their coarse, and proceeded to the furthermost of the three, upon which only were visible the suspended nooses.

Upon taking their, places the Catholic service for dying men, which begun when the men left their cells, was continued by the clergymen, Boyle and McGeghan giving responses in firm and audible tones. The demeanor of Boyle, until the drop fell, was one of entire self-possession. His composure was not assumed, and as the services proceeded he occasionally inhaled the perfume of a beautiful red rose which he held in his hand. McGeghan's bearing was that of a sincere and contrite penitent. He appeared to realize his awful situation, and repeatedly looked appealingly to Heaven.

Both the men kissed the priests and shook hands with the sheriff. Boyle responded to a remark of his attending priest with, "I ain't a bit sorry." McGeghan, in response to an intimation that he was at liberty to say anything he desired, at once addressed the assemblage as follows:

THE SPEECHES.

GENTLEMEN: — I have nothing at all to say to you about guilt or innocence, nor about them that left me in here, or them that done anything else to me. I only ask forgiveness of the whole world, if I have done a wrong to them, and the Almighty God may forgive all Christians all them that He ever created in this world for the sake of forgiving my sins here." The speech here ended, its concluding portion having been delivered in a somewhat tremulous, though firm and vigorous tone, Boyle now addressed the crowd without a symptom of emotion: "I have nothing to say, gentlemen, only pretty much in the same way; nothing as regards guilt or innocence. I forgive those that put me here. I forgive them from my heart, and I hope they will forgive me. I forgive all this world."

McGeghan, with a supplicating look heavenward, here supplemented his remarks by fervently exclaiming, "I have done all that is in my power to save my soul; anything at all that I could do I have done, and I trust in God. If there is any sin on my soul that I have not cleaned off, God will make me suffer for it here now. I offer up this death that I have to die to God for the sake of Him to forgive my sins. I have nothing more to say."

THE TRAP SPRUNG.

With the conclusion of the speeches, an awkward pause ensued, the officials not knowing whether or not to proceed immediately. The last good-byes, however, were soon said, and the arms and legs of the men pinioned, both calmly surveying the preparations, McGeghan occasionally murmuring a prayer and gazing intently heavenward. As the noose was being adjusted around his neck, he exclaimed, "Christ have mercy upon me! Lord have mercy upon me!" The nooses were then adjusted, the trap sprung, and in a few moment the men were dangling between heaven and earth.

ROARITY AND CARROLL.

At six minutes after 12, the Sheriff, his deputy, prison keeper and prison physician, reappeared at the gallows with James Roarity and James Carroll, who were attended by Rev. M. J. Gately, of Pottsville, and Father Beresford, each of the condemned carrying a crucifix. Both seemed perfectly composed. Mortuary service was said, the men gazing fixedly at the crucifix, Roarity occasionally heaving a deep sigh, and glancing at the windows of the cells near one end of the gallows, where the juries of the Sheriff had been stationed. Bidding the Sheriff good-bye, Roarity added: "May God bless you." He then made a short address. He said: "Well, gentlemen, I want to talk a few words. It is only a few words. I stand to-day before the public, and I must say the truth for them. I don't know whether they are gone, whether they are to come after me or not; Thomas Duffy has been convicted for giving me ten dollars for the shooting of a man I never saw — shooting him at Tamaqua until I saw his name in the paper — Thomas Duffy. I hope I am going to my Lord, and Thomas Duffy is a man that (I won't say for fear that I might be lying) I never saw him. The third time I saw him in the Pottsville jail, and what I can say for him is this: I never heard him talking about Benjamin F. Yost, nor any other man. If they are to come after me let them say so. I am satisfied, and I hope forgiveness from the world, from everybody. I hope they will forgive me. That's all I have to say."

CARROLL PLEADS INNOCENCE.

The crowd looked to Carroll, who was calm, and in appearance more intelligent than his companions. He merely said: "I have nothing to say, gentlemen, only that I am innocent of the crime I am charged with."

Here Roarity broke in again with the remark, "Well, that is what I forgot; excuse me, gentlemen. That is another word I forgot, that I was going to die an innocent man. I forgot to put that in," [here Roarity's voice grew tremulous.] "but I hope it is good for me, and, as to them that prosecuted me and brought me to this place, I forgive them from the bottom of my heart. I hope God will forgive them and forgive me too."

Carroll made no attempt to resume his remarks, apparently interrupted by his associate. He only whispered to the Sheriff a few hurried parting words. Carroll was the only one who did not bear a flower of some color. While being pinioned Roarity, recognizing one his counsel, shouted, "Mr. Laville, I leave you my blessing, and leave it to all my employers." "God bless you, Jim," responded the lawyer.

The priests exhorted the men to turn their thoughts to God. The nooses were tightened, the caps adjusted, and the trap was sprung. After hanging nineteen minutes the bodies were taken down and deposited behind the gallows.

MUNLEY AND DUFFY.

At twelve minutes after one Thomas Munley and Thomas Duffy appeared with their priests and the prison officers. Duffy was kept to the last, owing to rumors of a reprieve, and he only of the six showed nervousness. Neither of them made a speech. At 12:21 the drop fell, and fifteen minutes later the two men were declared dead. Examination showed that all except Munley died of strangulation. His neck was dislocated. The bodies of McGeghan, Boyle and Duffy were given to friends; the others will be interred by the county.

When the hangings were completed Sheriff Werner was congratulated. Notwithstanding the crowds, only one arrest was made, that of a drunken woman. The removal of the bodies from prison was attended by some excitement, and conveyances containing the coffins were followed down Center street by men, women and children.

—The Indiana Progress, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Jun 28, 1877, p. 1.

Note: Munley's name doesn't have a "e" in a few references to him. A few other more obvious typos were changed.

[*] The article as presented here has only seven men who were hanged. The other four I have in a separate entry in this blog. Search for Pennsylvania, hanging, capital-punishment, 1877, one of those words if you're looking for it.

At Mauch Chunk, Four Men Hanged This Morning

Pennsylvania, 1877

AT MAUCH CHUNK

How Kelly, Doyle, Campbell and Donahue Met Their Fate.

MAUCH CHUNK, June 21. — The condemned men went to bed a little after midnight. This morning they arose at 4 o'clock, and dressed themselves with scrupulous care. At 6 o'clock the counsel for Kelly bade him goodbye. Kelly thanked him for his legal efforts. Donahue said he had nothing to say to his counsel, and said, "Get out of my cell."

The other two men shook hands with the counsel. The stores in the city were all closed. At 9 o'clock the Easton Grays, of the Fourth Regiment, with 35 guns, were stationed outside the jail. The prisoners passed the greater portion of the night in praying, and candles were given them to read their prayer books. Donahue prayed alternately with his book and rosary. Kelly and Donohue were dissatisfied with the sickly glare of the candles, and blew them out. Campbell and Doyle kept theirs lighted. Campbell said Captain Linden and the Shenandoah "Herald" reporters knew he was an innocent man, but they were afraid to admit it.

ON THE SCAFFOLD.

All the arrangements for the execution were made at 10 o'clock. Shortly after the Deputy Sheriffs, reporters and other assistants entered the corridor. The Sheriff adjusted the ropes and called his assistants to him. In a few minutes Campbell's cell door was opened and he appeared, accompanied by the priests. Campbell walked quickly to the scaffold, ascending with a light step. The priest read the prayers for the dying, the prisoner responding and repeatedly kissing the crucifix, and turning his pale face upward, his lips slightly moved in prayer. Doyle was next brought out. He walked upon the scaffold unassisted. John Donahue walked boldly out and up the steps of the scaffold. Kelly came last, and seemed quite strong. They were each attended by a priest. None of the four evinced very much nervousness. The priests prayed for several minutes, the prisoners kneeling and responding.

THE FATAL FALL.

After the priests left the scaffold Sheriff Raudenbush and two assistants adjusted the ropes. The Sheriff examined each prisoner carefully, and then asked if they had any thing to say. Campbell replied that he forgave everybody, and continued, "I have not an enemy in the world at this moment." Doyle spoke for some time, but his words were inaudible, except to the Sheriff and priests. Donahue had nothing to say, and Kelly recited after the priest a plea for forgiveness. The Sheriff left the scaffold, and in half a minute pulled the rope which let the trap fall.

The doomed men fell at 10:54. In a moment the bodies began swinging. Kelly, Doyle and Campbell died easy. Donahue drew himself up and struggled for two minutes. Doyle's heart ceased to beat in 12 minutes, Campbell's 14 minutes, Donahue's in 6 and Kelly's in 7½ minutes. From the beginning to the end there was not a mistake.


WILKESBARRE, PA., June 21. — Lanahan, the Molly Maguire, was executed here at 10:40 this morning.

—The Indiana Progress, Indiana, Pennsylvania, June 28, 1877, p. 1.