| Notes |
- FRANK WILSON!
The Murderer of John Rudy
A HISTORY OF THE CASE-WILSON'S ARREST, TRIAL, CONVICTION AND SENTENCE.
His Conduct in Prison.
A NARRATIVE OF HIS VAGABONDAGE-HIS RECKLESS EARLY LIFE-ABANDONMENT IN GAMBLING, THIEVERY AND DRUNKENNESS.
CULMINATE IN MURDER
HOW AND WHERE THE DEED WAS DONE.
A VAGUE STATEMENT OF GUILT.
HIS LAST NIGHT AND DAY.
Penitence which Indicated Contrition.
EVENTS OF THE LAST HOURS,
LAST SCENE OF ALL
THE GALLOWS-THE PRISONER-THE PRAYER-AND THE PLUNGE INTO ETERNITY
The Murder
The murder for which Wilson was hung was one of singular atrocity. His victim had lavished upon him his money in the free and easy manner of a man under the influence of strong drink, but Wilson did not let the feeling of boon companionship or good fellowship come between him and the commission of the terrible crime. On the morning of the 17th of June, 1876, the dead body of John B. Rudy, a gardener, etc., was found lying in the middle of Fifth Street or Ridge Road, as it is more generally known, near the home for the friendless. The condition of the body was such as to warrant the belief that Rudy had been foully dealt with and detectives were set to work to ferret out the mystery. The deceased had last been seen in company with Frank Wilson, a colored man, with whom he was drinking and on whom he was spending his money, of which he had considerable.
Wilson's Flight and Arrest
Wilson, who had always borne a bad character, was hunted for, but found non est. He having jumped the town immediately on hearing of the finding of Rudy's body. The detectives, however, did not give over in their efforts to catch him, and traced him step by step and followed him so closely that he could obtain no rest for fear of being pounced upon. When he left Harrisburg, he went west, sneaking from town to town as he was hunted closely, until finally he resolved to show a brave front and come back to Harrisburg. But before his courage failed him, and instead of coming to this city, he went to Carlisle, where he remained several days. Information of his presence in Carlisle was conveyed to the officers, and they straight away arrested him, though not without some search, and finding him concealed between two feather beds in a small house in Carlisle. Wilson was brought to this city, and his trial set for November 1876, Elias Hollinger, Esquire, and Colonel J. Wesley Hall being assigned to defend him. When the case was called, counsel moved for a postponement, on the ground that they had not sufficient time to thoroughly prepare the case, and as it was a matter which called for minute preparation, the judge ordered it continued until the January term, 1877.
The Trial
On Saturday, January 20, 1877, the case was called an Oyer and Terminer, and a jury consisting of the following gentlemen was drawn after some challenging from both sides. John Bressel, James Shanklin, Albert Horner, Jacob Buhler, C.H. Hoffer, Alexander Roberts, George W. Buhler, Albert Hummel, I. Reese, George W. Hummel, B.F. Schaefer, L. W. Clemson. The witnesses called were carefully questioned and cross-questioned, counsel making their utmost efforts for their respective sides of the case.
The Testimony
A colored man testified to finding the body, but could not say whether it bore marks of violence or not. Coroner Porter stated that he discovered no marks of violence on Rudy, although he had held an inquest over the remains. Mrs. Rudy, the deceased wife, testified that her husband was intoxicated previous to his death and that he had about $40 on his person. She identified the torn pocketbook found near the scene of the murder as that of her husband. Dr. J.N. Clark, who made a post-mortem examination of the body, said that in his opinion death was caused by violence, strangulation, and his testimony was corroborated by Drs. Freese and Stickel. A number of witnesses were examined who had seen Wilson in Rudy's company the night of the murder, and a colored man named Raymer, who accompanied Wilson to the West, testified that Wilson furnished the funds for the trip. But perhaps the most damaging evidence came from a colored woman named Sarah Vinian, who saw Wilson leading Rudy up Riley Street on the night of the latter's death. She also testified that she saw Wilson strike and knock Rudy down, and this was the evidence that contributed greatly to Wilson's conviction.
The Efforts of the Council
Mr. Hollinger and Colonel Aul battled manfully for the defense, and strove to break down the evidence of the woman Vivian by saying that she contradicted in court what she had said in the mayor's office, that the evidence throughout was mainly circumstantial, and asked for the discharge of their client as an innocent man. District Attorney J.B. McPherson followed in an able argument to the jury. He carefully reviewed the evidence from end to end, tracing the matter from its inception to its committal, and in a masterly manner summing up the guilt of the prisoner, asked his conviction on the grounds of such overwhelming evidence. On Saturday evening, January 20th, Judge Pearson carefully and impartially charged the jury at length, going over the evidence in a thorough manner, and reminding the jury that if there was any doubt in their minds as to the guilt of the prisoner, to give him the benefit of the doubt. His honor, before the jury retired, informed them that he would await their verdict until 11 o'clock that night, and that if they failed to agree by then, they might bring in a sealed verdict at 9 o'clock on Sunday morning. Wilson was taken to the law library in charge of a deputy sheriff. He seemed nonchalant and scarcely realized that his life hung on a thread. Shortly after 11 o'clock, the jury not appearing, he was removed to the jail. The verdict. At 9 o'clock on Sunday morning, January 21st, the ringing of the courthouse bell announced that a verdict had been arrived at, and the courthouse was soon filled with a crowd of people, all anxious to hear the conclusion of the jury. At 9.15, the jury arrived, took their seats, and awaited the appearance of the prisoner, who was shortly afterwards brought into court by the sheriff. The clerk of the court went through the usual form of announcing the verdict, guilty of murder in the first degree, which was received by Wilson apparently with the same indifference that characterized his conduct throughout the trial.
Argument for a New Trial
On January 29, 1877, Elias Hollinger, Esquire, argued the motion for a new trial before Judges Pearson and Henderson, and the Court reserved its opinion until Wednesday, April 25, when, after Wilson was brought into the courtroom, His Honor, Judge Pearson, recounted the evidence elicited on the trial in reference to Wilson and Rudy being together, the finding of the body of Rudy, and the fact that Rudy had a considerable amount of money in his possession when with Wilson, exhibiting it carelessly, and that when his body was discovered, there was no money on his person. He also referred to Wilson leaving the city soon after and his travels to Toronto and other points, and his arrest at Carlisle. He also stated that the autopsy was imperfect, but that it was proved by the testimony that he had died from being strangled or choked by the hand. His Honor said he was satisfied that Rudy was murdered, and that he was murdered by Frank Wilson, and overruled the motion for a new trial.
The Dreadful Sentence
Mr. McPherson, the District Attorney, moved for judgment. Wilson, upon being asked if he had anything to say, why judgment should not be pronounced, said he had not had justice done him, that he was not guilty, that he had no opportunity to defend himself. He denied the truth of the testimony of Sarah Vinian and another witness. He protested his innocence stoutly. He denied that he had said, when arrested, that he might as well die first as last. His Honor, Judge Pearson, then proceeded to pass sentence, and sentenced the defendant, Frank Wilson, to be taken to the prison from whence he came, and from thence to the place of execution within the jail walls, and there hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may our gracious God have mercy on your soul.
The Death Warrant
Not long afterwards, the necessary papers were made out, transmitted to the Governor, and carefully examined. Wednesday, the 11th day of June, was fixed as the day of Wilson's execution, and the Sheriff, as he read the warrant to him in the presence of several citizens, warned him to prepare for death, as there was no hope. The warrant for his execution was signed May 12th, and was read to Wilson on May 16th. The man betrayed no emotion and seemingly did not understand the terrible fate that awaited him. He was ignorant and had about him none of the finer sensibilities of an educated man, although he was perfectly peaceable and gave his keepers no trouble whatever.
The Board of Pardons Appealed To
His friends in this city grasped at the last remaining straw, the Board of Pardons, and thither they carried his case, asking for a commutation of his sentence from death to imprisonment for life. His counsel were indefatigable in their efforts to save the man, but it was useless as the Board of Pardons refused to recommend the commutation of the sentence, and thus was the last thread snapped and Wilson, for the first time, stared death in the face, with all hope gone. He, when he found out he must die, devoted his hours to the study of religious books, hoping to gain surcease from sorrow from the Bible and other religious works. He has been constantly waited upon by ministers of the Methodist faith, and expressed his willingness to die as he was prepared. He gained very much in weight during his imprisonment, and went upon the gallows a brawny stalwart man in the prime of life.
The Confession
The following statement taken from his own lips while in prison two weeks before his execution.
His past life before the death of John Rudy, and a truthful confession of all that happened and occurred, and what I had done to him the night he met his death. Born June 10, 1851 in Harrisburg, Dauphin County, education defective. Profession, a barber. Served five years as private soldier in the last rebellion.
My parents were Peter and Henrietta Wilson. I was sent to school early by my mother to Mr. Joseph Bustill, who was my first teacher, and to Mr. Kraus, who was my last. When I left school, shortly after my father went away, leaving my mother with three small children, I being the oldest. I was then a wild and unruly boy, and I could not be advised. I was scarcely ever at home.
In 1861, when the rebellion broke out, my mother moved to Montrose, in the northern part of Pennsylvania, because she was afraid that Harrisburg would be attacked. I stayed with her then only a short time and came back to Harrisburg. I was then in my 11th year. Afterwards, I went to Philadelphia, where I remained but a brief time and returned. In the year 1862, I was nearly killed in the Weylock, but soon recovered. That year, I went to work for Mr. George Berkner, who was employed in carrying water at Fort Washington after it was completed. I subsequently went to Chambersburg and was there during the raid. From thence, I went to Allegheny City and served my apprenticeship with John B. Clark, a barber.
I came back to Harrisburg at the end of the year. It was that year I heard from my father, who was at Elmira, State of New York. While here, Captain Clark of Company H, 7th Regiment, took me along with him to Washington as his waiter, but I only stayed a short time with him because I did not like the way I was treated.
On my way coming home, I stopped until the close of 1863 in Baltimore at Miss Adams Boarding House as a waiter. From there, I concluded to go to Buffalo, New York. While there, on the 1st of April, 1864, I shipped on board the Dean of Richmond, a propeller as cabin boy bound for Chicago. At Chicago, I left the boat and hired with a drover, who took me with him to Cambridge, Mass. When at Boston, I enlisted in the Navy and was shipped to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I was under General Thomas, but deserted him shortly after in Portsmouth and went to Portland, Maine, where on the 1st of June, 1865, I enlisted in the United States Cavalry for five years. I remained in Portland until after the big fire in that city. From thence, I was sent to Fort Leavenworth, Missouri, where I was transferred to the 10th Cavalry, Company H, commanded by Colonel Carpenter. From there, we moved to Fort Riley, Kansas. From Fort Riley, we were moved to Fort Harker at Smoky Run, near Ellsworth. We shortly struck camp there, our company being ordered to Pond Creek Station to relieve Company H of the 38th Regiment, where we had command of the Railroad Division and guarding the work hands on the Kansas Pacific Railroad. After that division was finished, our company was ordered to Fort Wallace, Colorado for winter quarters. That was the winter of 1866.
On the 13th of February, 1867, we were ordered to Comstock's Ranch on a scouting expedition. We were attacked by the Indians on the 7th of March following, but the Indians were driven back, leaving a great number of their dead and wounded. Our company escaped with a very small loss. Our company was strengthened by Companies I and G of the 10th Regiment. Afterwards, our whole division were ordered to camp supply Indian territory at Fort Sill.
In 1868, I was still at Fort Sill. In that year, I got into trouble with my captain who put me in the guardhouse for threatening to shoot him. I escaped out of the guardhouse and deserted, but was arrested at Manhattan, Kansas by Lieutenant Smithers who took me back to my company. I was then tried by a general court-martial and put into the guardhouse for one year, the remainder of my enlistment.
I served my year in the guardhouse and was discharged in 1870. I then went to Lawrence, Kansas, where I worked for Mr. C. Thomas at his race course, taking care of his horses. I remained there only two months and went to Topeka, where I was waiter at the Topeka and Washington House for about two months, from thence to Kansas City, where I remained about the same length of time as waiter at the Kansas House.
The last of 1870, while on my way home, I took sick at St. Louis and was in the hospital three weeks. At Shelbyville, Illinois, I drove the bus for the City Hotel one month. I then went to Terre Haute, Indiana, where I worked at my trade as barber for Mr. Samuel Barnes, remaining one month. I left Terre Haute and went to Indianapolis, where I took charge of a racehorse that was to be shipped to Cleveland, where on my arrival I was hired by a railroad conductor to go to Shelby, Ohio, to work in the Whitaker House as porter. I worked there two months, and from thence came clear through to Harrisburg, where I arrived on Christmas Eve, 1871, after being away from home eight years. I was 22 years old then.
Shortly after my return home, I was married to Martha Hall, who did not prove true to me, for she was a disrespectful person and made my life miserable the short time we lived together by her ill behavior with other men. I took to drink to drown my trouble, and in a short time left her to look out for herself and went to Chambersburg.
After some two months absence, I came back to Harrisburg. My wife had taken up with a cousin of mine by the name of George Book, who was married and had just come back from the penitentiary. He had left his wife and taken mine, so then I took his wife with me to Washington City, where I went to work on the streets. I left her shortly after because we could not agree.
I then joined Robinson's Circus, but at Harrisonburg, Virginia, I left them and came to Hagerstown, Maryland, thence to Chambersburg, where I met my cousin George. He soon got me into another scrape about a wagon that he had stolen by helping him to get away with it. I did not know at the time that it was stolen. He got away, but I was arrested on the charge of stealing it, for he left the town as soon as we sold it. As I was one of the parties, I was sentenced 15 months in the Eastern Penitentiary. The whole thing was a put-up job on me because I went away with his wife.
After the expiration of my time in 1874, I came to Harrisburg. From there I went to Pittsburgh, where I went to work as porter on the Steamboat Exchange, which ran from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati. After two months, I came back to Harrisburg, and in September was married the second time by Reverend Mr. Clark to Miss Jenny V. Porter, who proved to be the best of wives. Oh, would that I had taken her and my mother's advice! I once tried to live a better life, for I knew that I was leading a sinful one, but my old acquaintances and friends would not be satisfied until they had me back into the sinful ways again.
I was engaged with my cousin James Edwards in night labor. I began to get reckless and would not take the advice of my wife and would go around the town at night with a party of mean good-for-nothing drunkards who pretended to be my friends and who enticed me away from my wife and mother by coaxing them to allow me to accompany them in their haunts. Many a time as my wife and mother tried to coax me away from them and would hunt me up and reason and advise me that they meant me no good, for they spent their evenings in drunkenness card-playing, going to houses of ill repute, and bawling around the streets, calling themselves the Glee Club.
Once I experienced a lesson that should have taught me to keep away from them, for I served three months in the county jail for one of the same parties that has me in here now, who was not man enough to come forward and take his share, but instead of standing by me and helping me out, he, McMullen, tried to make it hard against me as possible. He was not satisfied even at the first trouble that he put me in, for he got one of his companions to assist him in persuading me to help them in their horrible crime, of which I would not have done had I not been with them and drinking and was intoxicated so much that I staggered.
As God is my judge and the only one who can save me from my punishment for the crime, and I ask no man to believe me but God in whom I put all my trust, I will give you a truthful account of what occurred on the 10th of June 1876.
The Confession as to the Murder
On Friday morning, June the 10th, I went to work for George Davis as I had been before that time, cleaning, painting, and whitewashing houses, etc. I worked all of that day for him and had no idea of what would occur before next day. I ate my supper at his house, as was my custom. I quit work at seven o'clock and went home with my wife, who done the cooking for Mr. Davis. I was at home at half past seven. I remained there but a very short time when I went to Abe Bland's on Margarita Street, between Calder and Riley Streets, who kept a little candy shop where the young fellows would spend their evenings at card playing for the cakes and one thing and another. I was there until eight o'clock, looking at the men and women dancing in the next room and tried to shove into it. Abe stopped me and said, if I had ten cents I could get in. I said that I had no ten cents for him. It was not that I had no money at all, for I had thirty cents in my pocket.
He meets his victim.
I then went out and went to the corner of Calder and Marion streets, from there to Calder and William, when I met John Rudy for the first time that night. He was drunk and making a noise in the street. He saw me on the other side of the street and called me over and asked me if I did not want a drink, as he had a bottle with him. I told him yes and took a drink from it. I then left him on the corner of the same street, standing at his gateway, drunk. I went back to Abe Bland's again. I was still by myself. It was then about half past eight o'clock. I came right away out of Abe's and went across the street and sat in Mrs. Burrell's door, smoking my pipe. Mrs. Burrell said, son, give your auntie your pipe. Sorry, it says, son, give auntie your pipe. I gave it to her and was together smoking and talked about her domestic affairs.
Rudy in the Clutches Of His Assassin
I soon after left her and went to the corner of Margareta and Calder streets where I again met John Rudy, who had another and larger bottle of whiskey and asked me to ask Tilly Smith and Emma Green to take a drink out of the bottle, which they did and thanked him. He then wanted to go with Tilly Smith. None of the girls went with him, but he went alone into the alley between Tom Clark's houses. Jake Newman and Jim Smith, who were in there, drank Rudy's whiskey and when he came out he had neither whiskey nor bottle.
Rudy Takes His Final Walk
I was then very full. John asked me to go with him to Mr. Smith's saloon on Broad Street, wanting to get some more whiskey. It was then almost 9 o'clock, as near as I could judge. Mr. Smith would not sell us any liquor, for he said we'd had enough already, but John said no, we must have some more. Smith wanted to put him out and I interfered and would not allow him. I then came out of his place and Rudy after me. We went to the corner of Elder and Broad streets and there we stopped. Rudy then began to talk about going to move across the river on the next day, which was Saturday. After we got through talking, we went across to Mocherman’s and there got a half pint of whiskey. John said if I could drink it, he would pay for it. If not, I would have to pay for it myself. As I had spent my 30 cents before that at Peter's store, the only way for me to get out of it was for me to drink it, and so I did in the presence of Mr. Mocherman. We then came out. I told John I had better go home, but he said, “No,
He wanted Some More Whiskey.”
Then we seen a light in Thomas' saloon on Broad Street. We went into his place. It was just then ten minutes of ten by his clock. John called for some whiskey and we got two drinks apiece. We also got a bottle filled there and had a fuss about paying for it. At least Rudy did.
Rudy Remains In The Path Of The Murder
We went out then and came up William to Calder. I then left him there and went around on Marion Street to Abe Bland's when I got up on his table which was standing in the room to lie down on it to take a sleep. But Abe would not allow me to sleep there for he was going to close up his shop for the night as it was half past ten. He told me to go around home so I started for home but when I got to Margarita and Calder Street on my way I met George McMullen and Richard Borderly who asked me where I was going. I told them I was going home. I left them standing on the corner.
I again came across Rudy between Margarita and William Streets on Calder Street. At the gate where his wife lived I said to him, why John I thought you had gone home.
He asked me to knock on the gate for him to call his wife who did not hear him for she was drunk at the time and had been that whole day. There was a dog in the yard or I would have tried to get over the fence. I tried to open the gate but was afraid of getting bit. I then hammered at the gate to arouse her and that started the dog barking which brought the neighbors who were sitting out on their front steps on the next street. With them were George McMullen and Richard Borderly who were watching Rudy and myself at the time while we were standing at the gate. They came across the street to us and said that it was no use for us to make a noise because she would not get up to leave Rudy in for she was drunk. I then said that's so for she was drunk all day.
Bordley then took hold of Rudy and told him to come around on the next street. McMullen then took hold of my arm and said, Frank, come along. We all went up Colder to Fulton, out Fulton to Riley, up Riley to Ridge Road. Bordley said that we could get whiskey up at Davis's or the Stockyard. We then went up the ridge to Davis's, but he was closed up. I had then no idea of their intention to rob him or had no intention myself, for I could have taken his pocketbook before if I had any intention of robbing him, for I had plenty of chances to get it without their bringing him up there and could have had it then all to myself without them knowing it. As drunk as I was, I had sense enough to know that if I did take his money, he would of course accuse me of it, as I was with him the better part of the evening. Besides, other persons saw me drinking with him and in his company.
They Reach The Fatal Spot
On our arrival at Davis's, we were then opposite Davis in the field, Rudy with us. McMullen said, let us go over and stop on the grass, which we did, except Rudy who was leaning up against the fence with his hand. While we were sitting there, they told me they were going to take Rudy's money. I said to him, Bordley, that if he took his money, he should not hurt him. Then Rudy laid down on the ground. McMullen went over to him and was talking to him and wanted to take his pocketbook, but Rudy told him to go away. McMullen left him and come over where Bordley and I were standing and called Bordley away from me. What their conversation was, I could not hear, for I went over where Rudy was, told him to get up and tried to help him up, but he would not speak. I then tried to put my hand in his pocket, but he held his hand on his pocketbook, which it was my intention of taking and leave for home. I took hold of him again and shook him, but he would not speak or answer me. I then smacked him in the cheek to wake him up. He spoke then to me and said, don't hit me. McMullen laughed and said, Frank and his old chum will fight yet. I also laughed and went over to them and said I could not get him up. McMullen said he would try and get him up. He went over to him but did not succeed and came back asking me if I did not get his pocketbook. I said no, and if any one of us would take it, we would have trouble with him. They would not listen to me and said they were going to have it. I said to them, do no harm, but only take his money.
While we were talking, Rudy got up and came over where we were sitting against the fence. I spoke to him and said, let us go down to the gas light. When Rudy started with me to go there, I was about one yard ahead of him. McMullen was on one side talking to him.
We had then started to come across towards the Home for the Friendless. Then Bordley either struck or shoved Rudy on me. I turned around quickly and shoved him with both hands, not knowing who it was at the time. When he fell, McMullen put his hand in Rudy's pocket and I mine in the other pocket, pulling out his handkerchief. Rudy said, don't take my money for I know you. We then started away from him.
When we got by the fence at the Home for the Friendless, about 25 yards from Rudy, Rudy began to holler for us to bring back his money and said, I know you fellas, and we'll settle it in the morning. McMullen said, don't sit down here.
Dividing the Spoils
We then came down Fifth Street to the first gas light. I asked Bordley to give me the pocketbook. He did, and I opened it. I remember seeing $16 in money and a check for $100. Then we went down Fifth to Riley, where we met two police. McMullen said to me, walk straight, as I was staggering along. We then went down Riley to Fulton Street, then to Margareta and Calder Streets, on the corner of which we divided the money. McMullen got $6.45, then left us. It was 15 minutes past 11 o'clock. I then went up William Street to my home to get my coat. When I came out, Bordley said, We must go into town to get change. On our way, on Elder Street, I asked Bordley what he had done with the check. He said he gave it to McMullen to put away, and then gave me the pocketbook at the corner of Elder and Cumberland Streets. There was no money in it. I threw it in a sewer at the corner of Forster and Elder Streets. We then proceeded to Market Street and down to Bill Jack's on Canal Street to get the $10 bill changed. Banks, the bartender, could not change it, and we went into Cheesy Russ's saloon, where we succeeded in getting it changed and divided it outside.
We then returned to West Harrisburg. It was 12 o'clock. Bordley bid me goodnight on the corner of Williams and Colder Streets, and I went home and went to bed.
I got up at half past 8 o'clock next morning and ate my breakfast. When I came out in the street at 9 o'clock, I met my cousin, Mary Edwards, who asked me if I was not with John Rudy last night. I said yes. She replied that she had heard that he was found dead up at the home for the friendless. I was terribly frightened then, for there was a great many persons saw us drinking and running around together. I knew that if I stayed about town, I would be taken up as the people of that part of the town all dislike me. God knows what I've ever done to cause their dislike to me, I don't know, but there is a day coming when they shall answer for their sins too.
I was as certain as breathing that I would get clear of the whole charge by the false witnesses that were against me, and by the doctor's autopsy that was too weak to find a true bill against me to condemn me. My counsel told me to keep quiet as he would apply for another trial. If I had known then that I would not have another, I would have told on the two-George McMullen and Richard Bordley.
I have no ill feelings toward any person. All the troubles that can be done is done. No person can do me any harm now, for I am trying to atone for my past actions and die like a Christian, and hope to meet you all in that better land where sin and death shall be no more.
On the back of this confession was written in lead pencil by Wilson.
“This is all I will say in this world to you. God bless you all. Amen.”
Franklin A. A. Wilson.
A Second Narrative-His Wanderings
[In a statement made a few days previous, on the 27th of June, Wilson gave this account of his whereabouts after the murder of Rudy.]
I never said anything to her, meaning his cousin, Mary Edwards, who informed him of the finding of Rudy's dead body the next morning. But went over to Cybiltown, and from that down to the lock, when I got in company with Levi Raymer, when he and I started for Coxtown. We walked up the canal, from thence we went to Dauphin, thence to Sunbury, taking a freight train, from that to Williamsport on a freight train, thence to Renova, to Port Allegheny, thence to State Line, York State, thence to Buffalo, to Cleveland by the Propeller St. Paul, Stewart's Line, thence to Detroit, then as cook on the St. Paul to Duluth. We then returned to Limey St. Mary's, when I worked on the Trump's Barge, then I worked at Merne Canada, then Levi and myself shipped on the City of Winslow to Detroit, then on the Kavanaugh to Grand Island, up to Guardian River, to Copper Harbor, thence back to Marquette, and again to Detroit. From thence we went to Toledo, Cleveland, and to Pittsburgh, to Johnstown. There we met John Willis Smith, George Washington, and Henry Banks, and they told Levi and me we had better not come to Harrisburg, that there was a man killed, and it was blamed on me and Levi. I told them that I had killed no man, and that I was coming home, and they said to me I had better not go. We then went across the country to New Bloomsfield, and from thence to Carlisle, where we met John Borney, who told us the same thing, that we were blamed for killing a man, and had better not go to Harrisburg. That day, it was Sunday, Sam Norris brought a police in on us, and we were both
Arrested and Brought to Harrisburg
And imprisoned. Levi Raymer had nothing to do with Rudy's death. He was not with us. He knew why I ran away from Harrisburg, I told him. I told the police in the mayor's office that Levi knew nothing. I told the police in the mayor's office that Levi knew nothing.
A Third Narrative
[On the morning of Monday, July 9th, Frank Wilson, in reply to a remark that there were certain contradictions in his several statements, and as he had but a few hours more to live, he ought at once to give a candid and truthful account of the transactions for the commission of which he was so soon to suffer the death penalty.]
He adheres to his original confession.
The confession I last made was true in most of its particulars. I shall not say anything more when I am on the scaffold. George McMullen and Richard Bordley were with me that night and helped me do the deed. I had no idea they intended robbing him. Bordley was with me. The neighbors say his name is Richard Gordon, but I know his name is Richard Bordley. When they wanted to rob Rudy near the home for the friendless, I took him over toward the gaslight so they might see to do it without hurting him. When Rudy was shoved over against me or knocked against me, I turned around and struck him with my fist. What transpired afterwards, I don't know. I thought when he fell down while we were searching his pockets, he muttered something. It was not my intention to kill him, and I do not believe that he was killed. He was very drunk, and he had had a fight with his wife across the river that day. His head was bruised. As he was taller than I, my blow could not have hit him higher than the breast or neck. I am confident I did not choke him. Bordley was at his head when Rudy was on the ground, McMullen on the left side and I on the right side. I was so drunk that I do not know what happened then. I have been trying to clear my mind as to what happened, but it is not altogether clear. If I killed Rudy, I did not intend to, for I thought too much of him. Neither did I intend to rob him, nor would have attempted such a crime did not McMullen and Bordley lead me into it. They knew I was very drunk. They had sense enough to know that if anything would happen, I would get into trouble. I have no ill will toward anyone. I want only to tell all I know, and I hope God will make everything so that I can see clear. I have no other statement than this to make. I forgive all as I hope God has forgiven me.
Frank Wilson
[Subsequently, Wilson remarked.] I know that it does not benefit me now to keep anything hid, or say what is not so, for I have but two days more to live, and I am certain to die. I would not accuse any person wrong, but McMullen and Bordley were with me, and I repeat it, they led me into the crime, robbing Rudy, and I must suffer.
His Last Night on Earth
By special request of Wilson, a prayer meeting was held in the prison last evening, conducted by the YMCA. Prayers were offered for the unfortunate man by Rev. Clark and Wales and Prof. Kelly. A number of beautiful hymns were sung, and at the close of the meeting, Wilson stepped forward and made a few remarks, the burden of which was as follows:
“I want you all to meet me in heaven. I know that Jesus loves me, and I love him. This time tomorrow, I expect to be with him. I want you to pray for me. I thank you all for your kind attention to me and for your Christian sympathy and prayers. May God bless you and reward you all. My peace is made with God through the blood of Christ.”
Each one then advanced and shook hands with Wilson and retired.
At 12 o'clock last night, the ministers left him, and shortly afterwards, looked in the cell Wilson was seen praying. His voice was heard singing a hymn, and then he prayed earnestly for fully an hour. He sang again and left thus alone. He poured out his soul in supplication to God for forgiveness of his sins and his enemies.
Wilson then retired and slept undisturbed until this morning at 6 o'clock. He ate a hearty breakfast, and soon after, his spiritual advisors were admitted to his cell.
Impatient to Die
About 8.30 o'clock, Frank exhibited signs of impatience and said, What's the use of waiting so long? Why don't the sheriff come? I want to get out of this.
In the corridor of the jail stood the coffin in which the remains of the unfortunate man were to be buried. It was a plain rosewood stained casket studded with silver nails.
There were present at the time the jury directed by the law, the members of the press, and a number of special deputies.
Final Preparations
Shortly before ten o'clock, Sheriff Jennings appeared and, with his assistance, proceeded to attach the rope to the crossbeam, which was done in a satisfactory manner. The trap was then sprung and found to work smoothly, and thus were all the arrangements perfected. A cordon of police were stationed at the gate leading to the yard and about the scaffold. The few spectators indulged in whispered comments on the appearance of the dread instrument of death, and there was wondering if the man would make a confession. Opinions differed as to the man's confession, but there were some who thought he would make a clean breast of it before the noose was adjusted.
There was no wait, Sheriff Jennings seeming willing to comply with Frank's request that it might soon be over.
The March to the Scaffold
The small group of spectators had not long to wait after 10 o'clock, for at 10.12 the Sheriff appeared leading the way. Directly behind him came Wilson, supported on the arm of Reverend J.C. Clark, and then followed Reverend Wales. In this manner they ascended the scaffold, Wilson as he mounted the steps, uttering devout exclamations, calling on God to save him.
Wilson was dressed in a black coat and pants and white vest and wore carpet slippers. On his breast was a bouquet of white flowers. He seemed nervous and looked as though he was greatly excited. He looked neither to the right nor left but fastened his eyes on the gallows immediately as he came into the yard.
On the scaffold, Reverend Clark made a fervent prayer for divine forgiveness. He prayed that the man so soon to stand before the bar of heaven might be saved from eternal punishment and in tremulous voice asked forgiveness for all that Wilson had ever done.
While the minister was praying, Wilson in a trembling voice supplicated the Almighty for forgiveness. His eyes were closed as he stood on the scaffold and his hands clasped over his breast. Just before the minister left the platform, Wilson said:
“I die like a Christian
and let me go to the arms of Jesus.”
Sheriff Jennings asked the condemned if he wished to say anything, but he said no. He had said all he had to say and was happy in Christ's forgiveness.
Chief of Police Silly and Deputy Sheriff Grafton Fox then strapped the doomed man's legs with straps and fastened his arms behind his back with handcuffs. At 10:18, Sheriff Jennings adjusted the noose around Wilson's neck, placing the knot under his left jaw. The white cap was then drawn over his face by the sheriff and the ladder left the scaffold. At 10:20, the fatal spring was touched and the trap fell and Wilson was swung into eternity. The body spun around several times, but he did not struggle much, and the fact that the knot had slipped to the back of his neck led the physicians to believe that he was slowly strangling to death. Five minutes after the drop fell, Wilson's breast heaved once, and he drew his legs up several times, and then
All Motion Ceased.
At 10:25, his pulse beat 60 to the minute, and five minutes later it indicated 20 to the minute. At 10:35, no pulsations were apparent, the heart had ceased to beat, and Dr. W.H. Eagle pronounced him dead. The coffin was taken to the side of the scaffold, and the body lowered when it was found that
Wilson's neck was broken
And he had died without much pain. The body was placed in the coffin and taken charge of by Coroner Porter, who had it conveyed to the residence of the deceased mother, and from whence it will be buried.
No More to Say
Before going to the scaffold, one of the gentlemen in Wilson's cell asked him if he intended to say anything, to which Wilson replied that he could say no more. What he had told was the truth, and further, he could not tell.
Just before death, Frank expressed a desire to see prison keeper Hoffman and thank him for the kind treatment afforded him during the time of his imprisonment, which request was accorded him.
It is due to Sheriff Jennings to say that the execution passed off without a hitch or halt, and with all proper decorum. He was indefatigable in his efforts to have matters work smoothly, and he succeeded in every sense to the satisfaction of decency, decorum, and dignity.
The Body Delivered
Wilson's body was delivered to his mother, brother, and sister at 11 o'clock. The scene was very affecting, his mother weeping and crying for her wayward son, and deploring the fate that had befallen him.
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