There was truth in this. From the temper of the men, who had judged and condemned the murderer, it was evident I could do nothing to save him. Perhaps I did not contemplate trying.
The prisoner was led from the public-house he had been kept in since his condemnation, to a live oak tree, growing on the top of a high hill, about half a mile from the town. Under this tree was a grave, that had been freshly dug. The murderer, as he was conducted forward, must have seen the grave, and know it to be his final resting-place. For all that, he approached the tree without any apparent emotion!
“He is either a very good man, or a very bad one,” said one by my side, “he is going to die game!”
A cart was drawn up under the live oak; and into it climbed four or five respectable-looking men—who appeared to be taking a prominent part in the proceedings.
One of them requested silence—a request which was immediately complied with—and the man who made it, then addressed the assembly, in, as near as I can remember, the following words:—
“Gentlemen! Before commencing to execute the painful duty, we have met to perform, I deem it necessary to give you a brief description of the circumstances, under which we are called upon to act. The prisoner before you—John Mathews,—has been tried by a jury of twelve men; and found guilty of the murder of his wife—or a woman living with him as such. He has been defended by able counsel; and the trial has been conducted with all the decorum and ceremony required by an occasion so solemn and important. It has appeared in evidence against the prisoner, that he was an habitual drunkard; and that his principal means for indulging, in his unfortunate habits of dissipation, were derived from his wife—who supported herself, the prisoner, and their child, by working as a washer-woman. There has been full evidence brought before the jury, that, on the day the murder was committed, the prisoner came home drunk, and asked the woman for money. She told him that she had but three dollars in the house; and that she wanted that to procure necessaries for her child—in fine, she refused to let him have it. The prisoner demanded the three dollars, and the woman still refused to give them up. After he had made a vain attempt to extort the money by threats, he went across the room, and procured a pistol, with which he unsuccessfully made an attempt to shoot her. Finding that the weapon was unloaded, he turned it in his hand, and struck the woman two heavy blows on the head with its butt. These blows were the cause of her death—which occurred two hours afterwards. The man who committed this crime is now before you. As I do not wish to prejudice the mind of any one, I have simply stated what was proved on the trial; and the question I now put is—what shall we do with him?”
The speaker finished by putting on his hat, which was as much as to say, that his part in the solemn ceremony was performed.
The firm, earnest voice, in which the address had been delivered, convinced me that the speaker, who had thus distinguished himself, was actuated neither by prejudice nor passion.
From the tenor of the speech he had delivered, I could tell that the criminal’s fate, to a certain extent, still depended on a vote of the crowd; and in their decision I felt more interested, than even Mr Leary himself appeared to be!
Another of the men in the cart now took off his hat; and the murmuring noise once more subsided.