THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE! 
A FULL ACCOUNT OF. 
, J -J; 
THE ASTOUNDING MURDER OF 
jummE wjrrjr, 
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BY HIS SON, 
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WITH THE TRIAL AND CONVICTION OF 
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THE PARRICIDE/'" 
AXD 
HIS SENTENCE FOR LIFE TO THE 
STATE PENITENTIARY AT SING SING. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
I. 
THE PARRICIDE. 
On the morning of Tuesday, the third 
day of June, 1873, the people of New York 
were startled by the news of one of the 
most remarkable murders ever perpetrated 
in that city. Though long accustomed to 
see, in the papers of almost every morning, 
the details of some new and unheard-of 
crime, such tragedies as that which marked 
the morning of the third of June have been 
so very rare that it gave rise to a general 
feeling of amazement, and caused an expres- 
sion of horror to escape from the lips of 
almost every resident or sojourner in the 
city. In many years there has not been, in 
the United States at least, any very remark- 
able instance of a murder of a father by his 
son or daughter. There have been in the 
city of New York, within the past seven or 
eight years, some three or four cases of 
matricide, a score of uxoricides, several fra- 
tricides, and hundreds of homicides, but 
not one parricide-at least none that lias 
been determined to be such. 
Since the day of the Fisk murder indeed 
no such excitement has been seen in the 
city of New York over any single event. 
The eminence of the family, the reputation 
of the murdered man as an author, and the 
peculiarly horrifying circumstances of a 
son killing his own father, gave the affair 
an appearance of sensationalism which was 
justified by the facts. It was a true sensa- 
tion, not simply washed, , and the startling 
circumstances no pen could overdraw. 
Those who read felt that the people of New 
York were to be edified by another cause 
celebre, in which the facts were more re- 
pletely terrible than any for many years. 
From mouth to mouth the story passed, and 
was soon known all over the city. At th a 
various hotels, in the many lobbies, little 
else was spoken of, and it engaged tl e 
deepest attention. In front of the Sturte- 
vant, inquisitive crowds would occasionally 
collect and gaze into the empty hallway 
with that singularly idiotic stare which 
crowds possess. 
Of all the crimes that shock the souls of 
men none has ever been held in greater 
abhorrence than parricide. To conceive 
that the offspring should become the slayer 
of the parent is fearful under any circum- 
stances, but when the offense is committed 
with intent and knowledge, its enormity is 
intensified a thousand-fold. It.was a crime 
punished by the ancients with awful rigor 
and held in the deepest detestation; and, 
according to mythological record, the cul- 
prits were delivered up to the torments of 
the Furies. CEdipus slew his father Laius 
as they chanced to meet in the way, while 
the son was journeying to Phocis, and the 
avenging Fates followed him thereafter 
with misfortune, disgrace, remorse, and 
cruel tortures to his death. Orestes, too, 
the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, 
slew his mother to avenge the death of 
his father at her hands, and to blot out her 
adulterous shame, and he likewise was 
tormented by the Furies, though afterward 
purified by the people of Argos. 
In all ages the offense, considered in pro- 
portion to the aggregates of murders, has 
been comparatively rare, and in the majority 
of these instances the deed has usually been 
the result of anger, accident or mental 
aberration. 
The circumstances of the murder of 
Mansfield Tracy Walworth by his son, 
Frank II. Walworth, renders this tragedy 
one of the most remarkable of the present THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
or any past period of our history. At 
about 3 o'clock, on Monday afternoon of 
June 2d, a tall and slim young man, with 
frank and winning large blue eyes, a 
smooth face, fair complexion, light whis- 
kers and refined features, and dressed in a 
light tweed suit, and a spring overcoat, ap- 
plied to Mr. Barrett, the clerk at the 
Sturtevant House, for a room. He regis- 
tered his name Frank If. Walworth, and 
was allotted room No. 267 on the second 
floor. Afterwards he went to the house 
where his father was boarding, in Fourth 
avenue, near Fifty-fourth street. His 
father was not at home, the servant girl 
informed him, whereupon he left with her 
the following note: 
3 o'clock. 
" I want to try and settle some family 
matters. Call at the Sturtevant House after 
an hour or two. If I am not there I will 
leave word at the office. 
F. II. WALWORTH." 
The servant girl promised to give the 
note to his father. He then left, and went 
back to his hotel. Later in the evening he 
spoke with Mr. Barrett, who had had a 
previous acquaintance with him, and the 
two young men took supper together. Dur- 
ing the meal Walworth appeared cheerful 
and unconstrained. The two gentlemen 
conversed on ordinary topics, and both ate 
heartily. Mr. Walworth retired to his 
room early. 
At a quarter past six on Tuesday morning 
a tall, robust gentleman, middle aged, 
erect and fine looking, entered the Sturte- 
vant House and asked that his card, on 
which was the name Mr. M. T. Walworth, 
might be sent to the room of Mr. Frank H. 
Walworth. The call boy took up the card, 
and after knocking twice was answered by 
Mr. Frank Walworth, who told him to ask 
the gentleman to wait, as he was not 
dressed. A few minutes after the call boy 
had descended with this message the bell 
of 267 rang. The call boy hastened up 
stairs, and on knocking at the door was 
told to enter. He did so, and saw Mr. 
Trank Walworth fully dressed, with his 
overcoat on, seated in a chair close by the 
window. 
"Ask the gentleman to come up to my 
room, " he said. 
The hall boy departed, and on delivering 
his message, Mr. M. T. Walworth ascended 
the stairs accompanied by the boy, to show 
him the way. 
The boy says that he had barely time to 
get down stairs and look him 
when he heard the report of a pistol, fol- 
lowed by another repoit, and still another. 
In a few moments Mr. Frank Walworth 
came running down stairs, and going to 
the desk said to the clerk: 
' ' I've just shot and killed my father up 
stairs in my room." 
The clerk was first bewildered and then 
horror stricken. 
' ' Get a policeman as soon as you can, " 
said Walworth. "I wish to* give myself 
up." 
He then, through the telegraph office at 
the hotel, at once sent a despatch to his 
uncle, C. Walworth, at Albany. "I have 
shot father; look after mother." 
He then went to the Thirtieth-street 
police station, and advancing to the desk 
where Sergeant Keating was in charge, 
said: 
"Officer, I've just shot and killed my 
father at the Sturtevant House." 
' ' I'm sorry to hear it, " said the Sergeant, 
thinking at first that the self-accuser might 
be insane. 
The Sergeant called an officer and told 
him to take charge of the young man. An- 
other officer was* sent to the Sturtevant 
House to ascertain the truth of the story, 
and on his return with the dreadful con- 
firmation, the facts were formally entered 
on the record. The young man delivered 
to the Sergeant a small Colt's five-shooter, 
with four of the barrels discharged. 
' ' That, " said he, ' ' is the pistol I shot 
him with." 
At half past ten Coroner Young and Dr. 
Marsh arrived, and Walworth gave the 
following statement in reply to the Coro- 
ner's queries:- 
"I reside with my mother in Saratoga,my THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
father having parted from her some years 
ago. My father is an author, and I have 
been studying law. I think my father is 
about forty-one years old, but do not know 
where he was born. My father has not 
lived with my mother since we left here 
three years ago, but he has repeatedly sent 
us threatening and insulting letters. It is 
only a short time ago since he threatened to 
shoot my mother and myself. I shot him 
because of this. Not long ago I met him 
in the street in Saratoga, and I then told 
him that if he did nor keep away from us, 
or insulted my mother any more, I would 
shoot him. I also told him that there were 
bounds which I would not allow any man 
to go beyond with impunity, especially 
when my mother was being insulted. I 
went to his house yesterday and left a note 
for him to call on me, which he did this 
morning. When he came into the room I 
drew out a revolver and told him to prom- 
ise me that he would not threaten or insult 
us any more, which he promised. Shortly 
afterward we began speaking on family 
matters, and he used some very insulting 
language and put his hand in his pocket 
as though to draw out a pistol, when I shot 
him. He then came towards me and I fired 
three other shots at him. When I fired the 
last shot he had me by the collar. I only 
regret this on account of the effect it will 
have on my family. I would like Judge 
Barbour to know this, as he was interested 
in the case before." 
When he had answered the Coroner's 
questions Walworth sent the following des- 
patch to Chicago: 
M. D. Hardin, 162 La Salle street, Chica- 
go:- 
I I shot father this morning. 
F. H. WALWORTH. 
A reporter of the New York Sun obtain- 
ed an interview with young Walworth, and 
gives the following as the conversation 
which occurred: 
Reporter-What led you to this dreadful 
crime? 
Walworth-Family troubles. It's been 
going on for some time, and the story is a 
long one.' 
Reporter-When did you come to the 
city? 
Walworth-I left Saratoga yesterday, and 
arrived here at a quarter of three in the 
afternoon. 
Reporter-Excuse my asking the question 
(here the prisoner looked hard at the report- 
er and smiled, flis smile is very sweet), 
but did you come here with the intention- 
why did you come here? 
Walworth-I came here to do what I have 
done. 
Reporter-When you arrived here what 
did you do first? 
Walworth-I went straight to my father's 
boarding-house, on Fourth avenue, near 
Fifty-second street. 
Reporter-You did not find your father 
in? 
Walworth-No; but I had prepared a 
note, which I left for him. 
Reporter-When your father entered yow 
room this morning what passed between 
you? 
Walworth-I took out my pistol and 
pointed it at him. I said, "I want you to 
promise that you will not threaten to shoot 
me or my mother any more." 
Reporter-What did he answer? 
Walworth-He said, ' ' I will promise not 
to do so." 
Reporter-What did you do then? . < 
Walworth-I said, ' ' Will you promise 
that you won't insult me or my mother any 
more? In the past you have done it with 
impunity, but you cannot do it any more." 
Reporter-And what was the reply? 
Walworth-He said, ' ' I won't trouble you 
anymore." Then I said, " you have brok- 
en your promises many times before. I am 
determined you shall keep them this time. 
Then I shot him. 
Reporter-Did he offer to defend himself? 
Walworth-The last sho* I fired he was 
close up to me. 
The venerable Judge Barbour was hold-j 
ing a court in the Superior Court, No. 2, 
when one of the counsel stepped up to him 
and informed him of the killing of Mans- 
field Tracy Walworth by his son. Judge THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Barbour immediately gave way to an emo- 
tion he could not control. He leaned his 
head on the desk for a few moments and 
then said: 
"Gentlemen, we will adjourn the Court 
for to-day." 
He then tottered down the steps, so that 
he had to be helped out of the court room. 
He immediately took a coach, and, going 
in search of ex-District Attorney Garvin, 
went in his company to the Sturtevant 
House, where he asked for the "boy." 
When told that he was a prisoner at the 
Twenty-ninth precinct station house he 
asked where it was, and immediately re- 
paired there. He entered the police station 
at one o'clock, accompanied by ex-District 
Attorney Garvin. 
After a few words with Captain Burden, 
they were admitted to the prisoner's cell. 
Judge Barbour merely looked at the prison- 
er and immediately quitted tl.e cell without 
speaking. He walked up and down the 
station while Mr. Garvin was conversing 
with the prisoner. Mr. Garvin was occu- 
pied with the prisoner nearly half an hour. 
i Mr. William A. Beach, while in Court in 
the morning, also received a telegram from 
Saratoga asking him to take the case of 
Frank II. Walworth in charge, and await 
the arrival of his mother, Mrs. Ellen Har- 
den Walworth, who was expected to arrive 
in New York in the evening. 
Soon after the interview with Mr. Garvin, 
Frank Walworth was removed to the 
Tombs. Officer Malony, who went with 
him, asked him several questions in regard 
to the murder, but he refused to say any- 
thing. He smoked his segar and spoke 
about the squares and streets which they 
passed and his having forgotten most of 
their names. 
"I have seen a great many murderers," 
the officer told a Herald reporter, " but I 
never saw one who was so cool. s 
just as much excited as you are now." 
Walworth reached the prison between 
half past two and three o'clock. He was 
attired in a suit of light colored spring 
clothing, and had also a spring overcoat of 
a light color and texture. He had none of 
the appearances of a prisoner 
" You might say he came down here 
himself," said a keeper. "He walked in 
free and quiet in manner. There was no 
excitement about him, and I tell you it's a 
rare thing to sec a man come in here as easy 
and offhanded as he did." 
The prisoner was duly registered by the 
clerk at the desk, and in a minute afterward 
passed through the grated doors which were 
to shut him out from the world. He passed 
with a quick, thoughtless pace through the 
prison yard, walked into the main prison 
building and the clanking iron door that 
leads up to the first iron gallery in the cor- 
ridor was opened for him. In two minutes 
more the door of cell No. 67 was opened to 
him, and he stepped inside without any 
hesitation, being obliged to stoop as he en- 
tered in consequence of the lowness of the 
doorway. This cell is on the north corner 
of the corridor, on the rear or Elm street 
side, and was furnished simply with a cot 
and stool, the bed being provided with the 
ordinary prison clothing. The door was 
then closed on him 
After an interval of about an hour Wal- 
worth was removed to cell No. 44, in the 
southern wing of the corridor, but on the 
same tier. This brought him into the 
neighborhood of the notables who occupy 
"Murderers' Bow," and his fellow residents 
on the same block of habitations were 
Sharkey, Scannel, King, and som otlier 
subjects of sanguinary fame. In this cell 
also the furniture was of the same pl m 
description. 
When left alone Walworth took off his 
light overcoat and sat down on- the miser- 
able bed, alone with his thoughts. Up to 
six o'clock he sat on the bed, thinking 
deeply, but in no wise depressed in spirits. 
He made no requests to the prison officials 
for food or extra pharaphernalia, two 
candles being the only things furnished 
him. 
Shortly before six o'clock a reporter 
wrote a scries of eight questions to the 
prisoner, which were Conveyed to him by 
one of the keepers, with a request that, if THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
unobjectionable, he would make either writ- 
ten or verbal reply. 
When the keeper presented the questions, 
together with the reporter's personal card, 
Walworth was seated on the bed. Without 
rising he listened to the keeper's explana- 
tion of his visit, then took the paper, read 
the questions and the name on the card, and 
handed them back to the keeper saying: 
"Will you please tell him that I cannot 
answer any questions, as I am advised by 
my counsel not to hold any communication 
with any one." 
II. 
AT THE STURTEVANT HOUSE. 
Immediately after the shooting, the great- 
est excitement prevailed in the Sturtevant 
House. The room adjoining that in which 
the tragedy was enacted was occupied by 
Mr. Morehead. He was aroused by a shot, 
instantly followed by a shriek of murder- 
a shriek so loud and terrific that it (hilled 
and almost paralyzed him. A second shot 
and a second shriek, not loud but lull of 
appalling agony, rang out and echoed 
through the corridor. A third shot startled 
the horrified listeners-for by this time a 
jeore of guests stood at their open doors 
with bleached faces and quaking forms. 
Then there was a heavy thud and silence 1 
Soon the door of No. 267 was opened, 
and a young man, wearing a light overcoat 
and Alpine hat, stepped into the corridor, 
closed the door after him, and rushed to- 
ward the staircase, down which he disap- 
peared. The alarmed guests re-entered 
their rooms, and dressed hurriedly. 
As soon as the young man reached the 
clerk's desk and uttered the words, "I've 
shot and killed my father, " thp night 
watchman, the steward, and the bell boy 
rushed up stairs, entered the chamber, and 
catching one glimpse of the horrible truth 
precipitately retired. 
The watchman hastened to Mr. Louis 
Leland's room and aroused him, informing 
him that a man was shot in 267, but that he 
still breathed. Mr. Leland told the man to 
run forthwith for Drs. Childs and Mulford. 
On Mr. Leland's descending he went, 
accompanied by the watchman, to the fatal 
room. Mr. Morehead joined them, and 
pushing open the door, Mr. Leland entered, 
followed by Mr. Morehead. The two men 
stood with suppressed breath and whitened 
Ijps, gazing first at the awful spectacle at 
their feet and tlien at each other with mute 
horror. The watchman grasped the door 
with his trembling hand, and fastened his 
distended eyes upon the hideous sight. 
There, stretched out upon the floor, with 
the head against the washstand, lay the 
lifeless form of a strong, hale, handsome 
man, in the prime of life. One hand was 
thrown over his forehead, the other lay by 
his side. The following diagram exhibits 
the scene of the murder: 
A. Door to room where the murder took place, 
H. The waahstaud. 
C. The spot where he stood when the fatal shots were 
fired. 
D. Place where he fell, with his head resting in a pool 
of blood. 
E. Hat rack. 
F. The bed where the murdered man was placed im- 
mediately after death. 
G. Stove. 
H. Window. 
I. Spot where the son stood when he shot his father; 
J. Hallway. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Blood was on the face, the hands, and 
hair. The marble top of the washstand was 
covered with clotted blood, the murdered 
man having probably leaned upon it while 
his lifeblood was ebbing away. There was 
also a quantity of blood which had trickled 
down the wall. But more singular than this, 
there was also a quantity of blood on the 
opposite side of the washstand, about three 
feet away, where it had apparently spurted, 
some being congealed on the surface of the 
marble and a quantity being in a still liquid 
condition under a glass on the further side 
of the washstand. The soap dish was half 
full of blood, as was also the toothbrush 
dish, which had mingled with the soap into 
a kind of frothy foam. Where the murdered 
man lay, there was a large quantity of blood, 
probably several quarts, which had run 
through the carpet for a space of about two 
feet in diameter. A towel also lay on the 
floor, saturated with blood. Along the car- 
pet over which the dead man was carried to 
the bed there were spots of blood. A black 
hat, surrounded with a three-quarter mourn- 
ing band, was picked up and hung on a peg. 
Dr. Mulford and Dr. Childs examined the 
body simply to satisfy themselves that the 
man was dead. They found a pistol shot 
wound in the right breast, another in the 
left breast near the heart, another in the left 
arm, and another under the right ear. 
One of the doctors who attended on the 
murdered man said that when he went up 
stairs to room 267 he found Mr. Walworth 
was not yet dead. lie was lying on the 
floor with his head on the carpet and gasp- 
ing. His pulse gave one or two pulsations 
when the Doctor took his arm in his hand 
and then stopped completely. Blood was 
gushing from the wound in his left breast 
and from his arm. He died in about a 
quarter of a minute after the Doctor went 
into his room. He was shortly after placed 
upon the bed. The Doctor says that when 
young Walworth was brought into the room 
he reported the conversation between him 
self and father as follows:- 
Walworth the Son (standing before his 
father)-You have again written to my 
mother threatening both her life and my 
own. Will you solemnly promise never to 
make such threats again ? 
Walworth the Father-I do make that 
promise. 
Walworth the Son-You have also repeated 
the insult made to my mother. Do you 
promise to never use insulting language to 
my mother again ? 
Walworth the Father-I do make such a 
promise. 
WaZwrtA the Son- (drawing the revolver 
and pointing it at his father)-You have 
made that promise before, and I do not be- 
lieve you. You shall never have the oppor- 
tunity of doing so again. 
And then the firing took place, withotft a 
moment's interval of hesitation. w 
When Coroner Young Arrived at the hotel 
the undertaker was sent for. At about ten 
o'clock the undertakers' wagon, from Senior 
in Carmine street, drove up 
to the door of the hotel. The large ice cof- 
fin was then taken up stairs and the body 
was speedily placed in it, just as it was. 
The whole thing did not take more than 
fifteen minutes, when the box, with its dead 
freight, was again placed in the wagon, 
which rapidly drove away. When in the 
undertakers' establishment it was disrobed 
and washed and placed in a preserving cof- 
fin. The face bore an expression of great 
suffering; the lips were slightly parted, and 
the wound in the forehead plainly showed 
the terrible death he had died. 
III. 
ins LAST NIGHT ON EARTH. 
Mansfield Tracy Walworth, spent his 
last evening on earth with his friends in Fifty- 
third street, between Lexington and Third 
Avenues. He was in the habit of calling 
frequently during leisure hours at the office 
of cx-Aldcrman Tuomey, who keeps a livery 
stable in the locality, ahd from whom he 
would frequently take a horse and carriage 
to drive. On Tuesday night, about half- THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
past nine o'clock, he came .m his quiet, 
customary visit, and he and Mr. Tuomey 
walked around the corner to the door of Dr. 
Kerscht's drug store. The ill-fated man 
was more gloomy, more reserved and more 
given to pensive thought and dreamy reflec- 
tion than usual. 
"We were together at the door of the 
drug store," said Mr. Tuomey, "and re- 
mained there until nearly ten o'clock. He 
(Mr. Walworth) spoke as usual about his writ- 
ings, for he generally showed me the stories 
which he had written and called my attention 
to the principal striking features of them. I 
asked him how many hours he devoted to 
writing each day, and lie replied, 'About 
seven.' 'Without any recreation?' 'Oh, 
yes,' he said; ' I take the remaining hours 
for recreation, anA look after the publica- 
tion of my writings in the meantime.' "We 
then chatted," continued Mr. Tuomey, "over 
the last concert of the Maennerchor, a Ger- 
man musical association organized by the 
young men of the neighborhood, with whom 
Mr. Mansfield associated a good deal, fre- 
quenting their clubs and entertainments, 
and by whom he was not only well thought 
of, but almost revered, for his gentle and 
affable disposition and his kindness in very 
often writing notices of their concerts and 
glee parties. To all this he referred only in 
a quiet, indifferent manner last evening. 
He was often five and seven minutes with- 
out speaking, and it struck me he was more 
gloomy and troubled than he ever before 
appeared. He was always amiable in con- 
versation and most gentlemanly to all. He 
was not an intemperate man, but would 
frequently take a quiet drink, sometimes 
alone and often in our company. He 
always looked neatly dressed, yet there 
was something in his countenance w. ich 
overshadowed the man with mystery, and 
it was, perhaps, on this account that he 
showed on certain occasions slight traces of 
dissipation, I do not say from drink-it 
may have been- from secret troubles or con- 
tinued writing or reading. He was about 
five feet nine inches high and weighed 
about one hundred and ninety pounds, and 
he told a few of us, a short time ago, that 
lie was between forty-one and forty-two 
years of age. His deportment was always 
gentlemanly. He used to walk across here 
by Fifty-third street almost every evening 
in a sad, pensive manner. In conversation 
he was more of an observer and thinker 
than a conversationalist. He took the last 
glass of beer with me-it was a glass of 
root beer-in the drug store. He had been 
asked to drink several times afterward and 
1 before, but he refused. lie seemed envel- 
oped in thought for a long while. He had 
possibly his son's letter in his pocket, and 
was deliberating over what was best to be 
° . . 
done. He never spoke to me of his family. 
He mentioned something of his father at 
! one time, but so brief and indistinctly that 
we never thought over it. There was al- 
ways something mysterious about him, 
though he enjoyed and took part in a joke 
as well as others. We, of course-I mean 
Drs. Labor and Kirscht, Mr. Robinson and 
: myself-knew him during the past -couple 
of yetjrs, and enjoyed his refined convcrsa- 
i tion and acquaintanceship exceedingly. 
We attributed his quiet, characteristic, 
and I might add unfathomable manner to 
those peculiarities which are generally no- 
ticed in men of talent, consequently we 
neither knew his feelings, nor did we think 
there was any occasion to interpret them. 
He was fond of retirement and loneliness 
to a great extent. He told me he spent a 
pleasant afternoon in Jones' Wood, and 
that he enjoyed the cool breeze of the 
groves very much, and that, although he 
was not exactly fatigued, he felt somewhat 
dull. He brought in the paper generally to 
me on which his late story has appeared. 
In the last chapter you can see he almost 
predicted his own death, and the last 
words of it are very singular, and savor of 
some prescience of his unhappy fate." 
Mr. Robinson, a gentleman resident in 
the ncighborhodft of Fifty-third Street and 
Third avenue, said that Walworth on Mon- 
day evening- chatted very fresly with him. 
He said, "I asked him to drink some root 
beer, but he would not. He only drank that 
one glass he took with Tuomy. But I'll 
tell you what he did. He recited some THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
beautiful lines of poetry, I forget them 
now, and repeated them very feelingly. I 
know the last w'ords; they were, 'Beware, 
take care.' He said these w-ords twice be- 
fore he left us, but we didn't mind him, at 
least I didn't, and then he said 'good 
night' and went out and turned the corner 
up towards Lexington avenue." 
IV. 
THE NEWS IN SARATOGA AND CHICAGO. 
The news of the murder was rapidly 
spread by the telegraph throughout the 
country, and everywhere created the most 
profound sensation. Where the persons 
connected with the tragedy were known, 
the excitement was painfully intense. 
In Saratoga the report of the shooting 
spread like wildfire. A crowd gathered 
about the telegraph offices, and excited com- 
ments were made on the affair. The news 
was conveyed to Mrs. Walworth by W. B. 
French and D. F. Richie, friends of hers. 
They called together and found her engag- 
ed in her school. They broke the sad intel- 
ligence, which shocked her at first, but she 
soon recovered and expressed concern for 
her boy, requesting her informants at once 
to telegraph to Charles O'Conor and other 
legal friends to aid in defending him. 
It was stated that Mrs. Walworth had no 
intimation whatever of the tragedy further 
than this:-On Monday she found that 
Frank, her son, had left home, leaving 
word that if he was not home to tea he 
would not be back that night. On going 
to his room Mrs. Walworth found a couple 
of empty envelopes lyinff on the table, ad- 
dressed to her son in 31. T. Walworth's 
handwriting, but found no clue as to 
whither he had gone. It is said, however, 
that young Walworth told Mr. W. Barbour, 
his confidential friend, that he was going 
to Troy. He said nothing about going to 
New York, and until the news of the shoot- 
ing came to Saratoga, his whereabouts was 
unknown to his mother or friends there. 
In Chicago the news of the sad and extra- 
ordinary tragedy created great excitement 
when it became knowm who were the rela- 
tives of the actors in the affair. 
Mrs. Walworth, widow of the Chancellor 
and stepmother of the deceased, had been 
in that city for several months, residing at 
the Grand Central Hotel, the guest of her 
son. She immediately left Chicago for 
Saratoga, to care for and share the suffer- 
ings of her daughter, as only a mother can, 
and was so overwhelmed with grief that she 
was scarcely able to go. 
• 
V. 
IN THE TOMBS. 
Not since the memorable day succeeding 
the shooting of Colonel Fisk has there been 
so much excitement around and about the 
Tombs as there was on the 4th of June. 
The cause of the unusual rush of visitors 
was to see young Walworth; but in this 
desire all, with the exception of a few inti- 
mate friends, were disappointed. The un- 
fortunate boy sat in his lonely cell in the 
Tombs, but showed no signs of a droop- 
ing spirit. The prisoner ate his meals with 
regularity, and conversed rationally with 
the keepers of the prison whenever their 
duties called them into his cell. 
About half past ten o'clock a close car- 
riage drove up to the entrance of the Tombs, 
and Judge Barbour, accom anied by a lady 
wearing a heavy veil, alighted from it and 
passed in. The lady was Mrs. Walworth. 
She appears to be about thirty-eight years 
of age, and much of the beauty which in 
her youth made her so much admired still 
remains. 
Mark Finlay was present at the meeting 
between the mother and son, and he says it 
was most affecting. There were no tears 
shed. Theirs was not the grief that finds 
vent in weeping. The mother embraced 
the boy; the embrace was returned, and 
for nearly a moment not a word was spoken 
on cither side. There was no extraordinary THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
emotion, and each probably felt that grief 
must for the present be laid aside and the 
stern reality looked in the face. 
The conversation which took place be- 
tween them was, of course, private; but 
young Walworth could be seen gesticulat- 
ing and talking in a very animated manner. 
Mrs. Walworth eagerly watched him, and 
occasionally at some remark of his would 
sadly smile; but she was frequently over- 
come by some reference of his, and dropped 
her head upon his hands. 
Judge Barbour remained in the prison for 
about half an hour and then drove away, 
leaving Mrs. Walworth with her eon. She 
remained with him in the prison for 
nearly two hours, and then, bidding the boy 
a loving farewell, she left. 
Mr. Charles O'Conor also called during 
the day, as did Judge Garvin, and both of 
them had interviews with the prisoner. 
Mr. Beach visited the prison, and had a 
conversation with the boy in the morning. 
The prison officials said that the bearing 
of young Walworth was brave and undaunt- 
ed, and they strongly sympathized with him. 
There were several young men admitted 
during'the day, friends of the prisoner, one 
of them from Saratoga. They were admit- 
ted and remained for some time. 
By the advice of counsel, Walworth re- 
fused to converse about the murder or see 
any strangers or reporters. 
After his visit to the Tombs, Mr. Garvin 
said to a Herald reporter that he had seen 
his client and counselled him to be very 
reticient of speech; to refuse steadily to 
be interviewed, and to keep himself 
quiet. "In reference to interviewing, as 
it is called," said Mr. Garvin, "several 
newspaper men have sought to obtain per- 
mission from me to see the prisoner for the 
purpose of 'interviewing' him. I have 
uniformly iefused it. What can a man in 
his position say that is of any value to any- 
body? He is in a state of mind that makes 
his statements utterly irresponsible." As 
to the tragedy itself, the cause of it, the 
relations of deceased to his wife and chil- 
dren, Judge Garvin declined to say any- 
thing. 
Mr. O'Conor was also called upon, "You 
had an interview " said the reporter, " with 
Mr. Frank II. Walworth this morning at 
the Tombs, I presume, Mr. O'Conor. How 
does he seem to bear it?" 
"Bravely and quietly, with a calmness 
that is certainly remarkable. There is not 
the slightest indication of fear and scarcely 
of sorrow." 
" Is not thav a strange condition for a 
young man placed in the circumstances in 
which he is?" 
" Not so strange as it might seem at first 
sight. It is the soldier spirit and blood 
that are in him. General Hardin was a 
fine soldier, as brave as Julius Caesar; he 
was killed in the Mexican war. This boy 
has much of his grandfather's spirit in him, 
and shows that he has in his present very 
serious position." 
VI. 
THE POST MORTEM EXAMINATION. 
At eleven o'clock on Wednesday morn 
ing Coroner Young and his Deputy, Dr. E. 
T. T. Marsh, proceeded to impannel a jury 
at No. 60 Carmine street, and make a post 
mortem examination in the case of Mr. 
Mansfield Tracy Walworth. 
Coroner Young empannellea and swore 
in the following named gentlemen to act as 
jurors in the inquest:-John V. Reynolds, 
foreman, attorney; Thomas C. Knox, physi- 
cian; JohnB. Gilman, agent; F. C. Senior, 
undertaker; Jotham Clark, retired; Ferdi- 
nand A. Eibell, livery. 
Deputy Coronor Marsh made a post mor- 
tem examination on the body, assisted by 
Doctors Finnell, O'Hanlon, Knox, S. J. 
Clark and others, which lasted nearly two 
hours. 
The following is a report of the autopsy 
made by Dr. Marsh and those associated 
with him:-■ 
A pistol-shot wound of outside of the 
left arm, one-quarter of an iftch in diameter, 
■was found four inches below the acromion THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
process; another of right side of face, one 
quarter of an inch in diameter, close to and 
on a line with the lower border of the ear, 
the skin around the wound, for a distance 
of two inches, being blackened and filled 
with powder; a similar wound of the left 
side of the chest, three and a half inches 
to the left of the median line of the body 
and six inches above the nipple, on a direct 
line, the edges of the wound being ragged 
and ecchymotic; also a pistol-shot wound 
of the right side of the chest, half an inch 
in diameter, situated one and a half inches 
to the right of the median line and two 
inches below the nipple. The direction of 
the latter wound was. downwards, back- 
wards and to the right; that of the face was 
on a straight line toward the left a distance 
of four inches. 
On opening the body the left side of the 
chest was found to be filled with fluid and 
clotted blood. The ball on this side of the 
chest entered between the second and third 
ribs, passed through the upper lobe of the 
left lung, and was found imbedded in the 
body of the second dorsal vertebrae. The 
ball which entered the right side of the 
chest struck and fractured the sixth rib, 
and then glancing it passed to a point four 
and three-quarter inches from the point of 
entrance, where it was found imbedded in 
the muscles of the chest. The ball which 
entered the right side of the face in its 
course fractured the lower jaw at its angle, 
and also the upper jawbone, and lodged in 
the left side. The ball which entered the 
arm shattered the upper portion of the 
humerus and lodged in the biceps muscle. 
All of the internal organs were examined 
and found to be healthy. Death was due 
to shock and internal helhorrhage from pis- 
tol shot wounds received-the internal 
hemorrhage resulting from the wound of 
the left side of the chest. All the bullets 
found in the body were round ones. Had 
deceased lived it would have been absolutely 
necessary to amputate the left arm at the 
shoulder joint. The wound necessarily 
fatal was that in the left breast. Deceased 
possibly might have recovered from the 
wound of the face, as the brain was unin- 
jured by the ball; the bullet in the face was 
not removed, as it would have necessitated 
great disfigurement. There was great 
trouble experienced by the physicians in 
tracing the fatal bullet on the left side of 
the chest. 
VII. 
THE FUNERAL. 
The body of Mansfield T. Walworth lay 
at the undertakers' in Carmine Street from 
the day of the tragedy until the Friday 
morning following. On Wednesday and 
Thursday an officer was stationed in front 
of the undertakers' store to keep off the 
crowds who had previously blocked up the 
pathway and obstructed travel. 
On Friday morning preparations were 
made for the removal of the remains to 
Saratoga. The coffin bore an inscription 
giving the name of the deceased, with the 
date of his birth and death. lie was born 
in 1830, and at the time of his death was 
forty-three years of age. Ilis face, though 
somewhat disfigured and decomposed, still 
presented many traces of the manly beauty 
for which in his early days he had been 
celebrated; and an idea could be formed, 
looking at him cold in the coffin, of his 
immense muscular power and activity. A 
bouquet had been placed upon the body, 
and a beautiful wreath of tuberoses upon 
the coffin. Though the deceased had 
ostensibly died in the profession of the 
Catholic religion, none of the religious 
services of his church were held upon the 
occasion, the only ceremony over the re- 
mains being a short and impressive prayer, 
which was offered by the Bev. James Lud- 
low, of the first Presbyterian church of 
New York. 
At the conclusion of the services the 
body was placed in a handsome hearse and 
removed.. to the Grand Central depot. It 
left New York by the eight o'clock train, 
accompanied by Mr. Clarence Jenkins, a 
nephew of Mr. Walworth. FRANK H. WALWORTH. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Mrs. Walworth had left New Tork on 
Thursday evening for 'Albany by the steamer 
of the People's line. . She left New York 
for the purpose of attending the funeral. 
The remains reached Saratoga by the 3.10 
r. ?.i. train. When the train came in there 
was a great crowd at the depot. 
The large pine box containing the coffin 
and corpse having been conveyed from the 
express car to the hearse, the funeral cor- 
tege proceeded to the cemetery. rrhcrc 
were about a dozen carriages in line. 
E. Holmes, undertaker of Saratoga, had 
charge of the burial. The bearers were 
James W. Hill, L. Varney, P. II. Cowen. 
W. B. French, II. B. Peters, John Foley, 
John R. Putnam, and William C. Barrett. 
The carriage immediately following the 
hearse contained Mrs. E. II. Walworth, the 
Rev. Father Walworth, the Rev. Mr. 
Backus of Schenectady, and Tracy "Wal- 
worth, the youngest brother of Frank, a 
lad of eleven. , 
Other carriages contained relatives both of 
the deceased and of Mrs. E. II. Vv alworth. 
The remains were interred in the Wal- 
worth plot in Grccnridgc Cemetery, situ- 
ated just in the suburbs of Saratoga. The 
plot is about twenty feet square, and is 
surrounded by an iron picket fence, firmly 
imbedded in a granite foundation. It is 
situated on the highest point near the cen- 
tre of the cemetery, and on a side hill 
sloping abruptly to the north. It is beau- 
tifully shaded with large, old pine trees. 
In the centre of the plot is a massive granite 
monument, broad, but not high, on the 
north and south sides of which is the sim- 
ple name, " Walworth," in bold relief. On 
the east side is the inscription: "Reuben 
Hyde Walworth; -died 22th of November, 
1868, aged 79." On the west front is this 
inscription, "Maria K. Averill, wife of R. 
II. Walworth; died 22th of April, 1847, 
aged 57." 
In this quiet spot, sacred to the memory 
of Chancclor Walworth, and for' so many 
years the last resting place of the remains 
of the first wife of that able jurist, the 
author of "Warwick" and " Beverly" and 
of much domestic misery was buried. 
The services at the grave were short and 
simple. They were conducted by the Rev. 
Dr. Camp, of the Episcopal Church, and he 
was silentlv attended by the Rev. Mr. New- 
man, of the Presbyterian Church, both of 
Saratoga. 
During the religious service the plot was 
occupied by the relatives both of the dead 
and of the living. The widow, holding 
her youngest son by the hand, leaned upon 
the arm of the Rev. Father Walworth, 
brother of the deceased, and her mother, 
the venerable widow of the late Chancellor, 
was attended by O. L. Barbour, Esq., of 
Saratoga. Mrs. G. M. Davison, of Saratoga, 
a sister of the deceased, leaning upon the 
arm of her husband, stood in the midst of 
her fine family of children. There were 
also members of the family of O. L. Bar- 
bour, and a few other relatives of deceased 
present. 
The tone of the funeral was distant, but 
not cold. Other than a respectful bearing 
and a mournful silence, there were no mani- 
festations of grief. The only thing which 
relieved the sombre solemnity of the occa- 
sion was a wreath of white flowers, slightly 
intermixed with green leaves, which rested 
upon the coffin box. and which was de- 
posited in the grave with the corpse. 
So ended the closing scene in the life of 
Mansfield Tracy Walworth, returning a 
corpse, murdered by the hand of his own 
son, to the spot where his childhood and 
youth were passed, and where his father 
long lived, known and respected by all. 
VIII. 
THE COBONEB'S INQUEST, 
The inquest concerning the death of 
Mansfield Tracy Walworth, was held on 
Friday, June 6th, in the Thirtieth street 
Police Station. Half past ten was the time 
fixed, but the inquest was not begun until 
twelve o'clock. Coroner Young, Deputy 
Coroner Marsh, District Attorney Phelps THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
and the jury were punctual, but the 
prisoner was absent. Two officers had 
been dispatched to bring him up, but there 
was no appearance of them either. Eleven 
o'clock came and half-past eleven, and still 
there was no appearance of young Wal- 
worth, and the crowd of people who were 
awaiting his arrival were scattered through 
the station house and on the street, eagerly 
looking for him. The delay seemed so 
strange and unaccountable that many per- 
sons thought something serious had oc- 
curred, and, to allay their anxiety, Coroner 
Young telegraphed to the Sixth precinct 
station house to ascertain the cause of the 
delay. An answer soon came, saying that 
the prisoner had left the Tombs in charge 
of two sergeants, and was on his way 
up. Precisely at twelve o'clock there 
W'as a rush made towards the room where 
the inquest was to be neld, and it was 
announced that young Walworth was com- 
ing. In a minute after a coach drove up, 
and from it there then p';"' ted the prisoner, 
in charge of Sergeant. . illins and Keating, 
Mr. Charles O'Conor and ex-District At- 
torney Garvin. Every eye was fixed upon 
the youth as he approached, but he appear- 
ed cool and unconcerned. He walked into 
the station house with a careless, jaunty 
walk, and took a scat at the table beside 
the coroner. He is only nineteen years of 
age, but looks somewhat older. 
The jurors answered to their names as 
follows: John B. Gilman, agent; Thos. C. 
Knox, physician; John B. Reynolds, at- 
torney; Frank C. Senior, undertaker; Jo- 
tham Clark, retired; and Ferdinand A. 
Eibell, livery stable keeper. The Coroner 
reminded them of their oath in a few words, 
and then at once proceeded with the in- 
vestigation. 
It was seldom that such an array of talent 
could be seen at a Coroner's inquest as 
gathered together at this one. Dist. Att. 
Phelps represented the State alone; but 
for the prisoner there appeared Charles 
O'Conor, who occupied a scat beside his 
unhappy client, Mr. Garvin and Mr. ISIiles 
A. Beach. 
The morning was beautiful and bright 
before the inquest opened, but the inquiry 
into the dark tragedy had not proceeded far 
when the sky suddenly became overcast, 
and vivid flashes of lightning penetrated 
into the room, accompanied by terrific 
thunder-claps. The rain poured down in 
torrents, and the room became so dark that 
gas had finally to be lighted. It was felt 
by many that there was something porten- 
tious in the angry elements, and they were 
certainly in consonance with the fearful 
tale of parricide which was given to the 
jury by the witnesses. 
All through the investigation the prisoner 
remained sitting in the same position, some- 
times drumming upon the table with his 
fingers, and occasionally whispering to Mr. 
O'Conor, who was eagerly watching the 
case as it proceeded. lie paid marked 
attention to whatever Mr. O'Conor said, 
and eagerly complied with his slightest 
wish. 
While one of the witnesses, Mr. More- 
head, was detailing to the jury what he had 
heard on the morning of the murder, he, 
by direction of Coroner Young, intimated 
in a rather dramatic manner, by claps of 
his hands, the intervals which took place 
between the shots, the prisoner seemed to 
be slightly agitated, but the feeling was 
only momentary and soon passed away. 
One of the witnesses, Mr. Barrett, the 
cashier of the Sturtevant house, when he 
appeared to testify, shook the prisoner by 
the hand, and seemed very much affected. 
There was very little interference from 
counsel on cither side, but Mr. O'Conor 
once or twice took exception to the reports 
of Dr. Marsh as they were read, and asked 
to have alterations made. 
It was expected that the inquest would 
occupy only a couple of hours, but it did 
not conclude until nearly five o'clock. 
After the witnesses had been examined the 
jury retired. They did not remain out over 
ten minutes. When they had returned and 
taken their seats the Coroner asked them 
the usual questions. The prisoner glanced 
carelessly at them and seemed perfectly un- 
concerned as to what their decision would 
be. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
The foreman of the jury, Mr. Reynolds, 
in a slightly tremulous voice, read the fol- 
lowing verdict:- 
"We find that Mansfield T. Walworth 
came to his death from a shock and inter- 
nal hemorrhage, the result of a pistol shot 
wound of the chest, said pistol having 
been discharged at the hands of Frank II. 
Walworth, at the Sturtevant House, New- 
York, on Tuesday morning, June 3, 1873." 
The Coroner then, amid breathless silence, 
addressed the prisoner. He said to him: 
"The first four questions I have to ask 
you are matters of form; the fifth one I 
shall ask you you arc at liberty to answer 
or not as you please." 
Walworth looked calmly at the Coroner 
and nodded his head. 
Coroner-What is your name? 
Prisoner-(in a firm, sweet, clear voice) 
Frank II. Walworth. 
There w-as a flutter of excitement in the 
room as he was speaking, and every one 
eagerly pressed fonvard to hear what he 
would say. 
Coroner-What is your age? 
Prisoner-Nineteen. 
Coroner-Where were you born and 
where do you reside? 
Prisoner-I was born in Saratoga and 
resided there. 
Coroner-What is your occupation? 
Prisoner-I have none at present. 
Coroner-The question I now ask you 
you can answer or not as you please. What 
do you know of this case? 
The prisoner consulted a moment w-ith 
Mr. O'Conor and then said in a calm voice: 
"lam guilty of no crime. I wish to 
make a statement." 
He then pulled a paper from his pocket 
and read his statement in a firm tone, paus- 
ing to allow the reporters and Dr. Marsh 
time to write it down. His coolness was 
extraordinary. The followihg is the state- 
ment :- 
"My father treated my mother very 
cruelly for years, incensed against his own 
father tor putting his little share of the 
property in trust, so that my mother and 
the family got something out of it. My 
father kept writing letters to my mother 
full of imprecations against his father, 
lie wrote to her, among other things:-'I 
will kill your boys and defeat the damned 
scoundrel in his grave and cut off his damned 
name forever.' He also threatened my 
mother's life, and spoke of shots being sud- 
denly heard, from his resentment. About 
three years ago he beat my mother cruelly. 
I was not present, but I saw the marks- 
When I heard this I loaded a pistol belong- 
ing to a cousin of mine, and have carried 
it. I supposed my lather was armed, at 
least when he intended to see us. My uncle, 
Clarence Walworth, has been as a father to 
me. He recently proposed to take me to 
Europe with him. I was troubled about 
leaving my mother without a protector. 
On Sunday last I wrote thus to my uncle, 
and that I must go and sec my father, and 
whether I would go to Europe or not would 
depend upon that interview. In fact, I 
wanted to get reliable assurances that he 
would not molest my mother during my 
absence. I had no intention of killing him. 
When he came into my room I asked him 
to sit down; he did so. I spoke to him of 
his conduct and said, ' Promise me that 
you will neither threaten my mother nor 
insult her or any of the family any further.' 
He answered me, 'I promise,' but with a 
look which to my mind implied contempt, 
and the reverse of an intent to keep the 
promise. He had just before put his hand 
up to his breast, as if to pull out a pistol. 
1 am unconscious of having fired more than, 
three times. He closed on me rapidly. 
His grasp was upon mo when T fired the last 
time. I do not think he said anything 
during the whole interview except what I 
have stated.'' 
When the prisoner had concluded the 
reading of this extraordinary statement he 
folded the paper up and put it in his pocket 
again. The reading produced a most pain- 
ful impression in the crowded room, and 
there was quite a revulsion of feeling 
against the prisoner, who so coolly spoke 
of taking away a father's life in what seem- 
ed to be, from his own statement, such, 
slender provocation. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
When he had finished reading the Coro-I 
ner said: 
•'Frank II. Walworth, I will commit you 
to the Tombs to await the action of the 
Grand Jury." 
Mr. 0'Conor then said, "I suppose we 
are done to-day, Mr. Coroner,''and then the 
crowd filed out into the street. The prison- 
er. in cenrinnv w*-h his counsel, walked to 
the door, escorted by a policeman, and took 
a scat in the carriage, and was rapidly driven 
to the Tombs. 
IX. 
THE INDICTMENT. 
On Monday morning, June 9th, the Grand 
Jury of the Oyer and Terminer filed into 
their seats in their room in the County Court 
House at half-past ten o'clock. Shortly 
after meeting and while transacting some 
minor business the District Attorney sent in- 
to'the jury room the papers relative to the 
Walworth case. The Grand Jury immedi- 
ately gave the case its exclusive attention 
and the witnesses were called. The exami- 
nation did not take more than two hours 
in all, after which the sentiment of the 
Grand Jury was taken, and it was found 
that the jurymen were unanimously in favor 
of an indictment for murder in the first 
degree. The bill w as then ordered to be 
made out. 
The following arc the names of the mem- 
bers of the Grand Jury which ordered this 
bill: Charles Patrick (foreman), Sam. W. 
Millbank, Edgar Wiight, Francis Endicott, 
Samuel Sproulls. William L. Vandervorst, 
Sylvester W. Comstock, William Clarkson, 
James T. Tailor, James A. Hearn, William 
J. • Blair, Courtlant Schuyler, Frederick 
Ward, Theodore Martin, Edmund D. Sax- 
ton, Jesse Oakley, George Hurst, Jonathan 
L. Hyde, William 8. Corwin, Henry M, 
Laher, Elisha Brooks, Edward S. Snelling. 
On Wednesday morning, June 11th, 
Judge Ingraham opened the court of Oyer 
and Terminer, acting as presiding judge 
| in the temporary absence of Judge Davis. 
I holding the current term of the court. 
The court room was crowded in anticipa- 
I lion of the arraingment of Walworth, and 
great anxiety was manifested to see the 
prisoner. By direction of the District 
Attorney, Walworth was early conveyed 
from the Tombs in a close carriage and for 
some time previous to the opening of the 
I Court was detained in Sheriil Brennan's 
private office. V\ hen brought into Court 
he took the seat to which he was motioned 
by the Sheriffs deputy with an air of the 
greatest unconcern. He conversed freely 
and with case with his counsel, cx-Judgo 
Garvin and W. A. Beach, and with any 
other who chose to address him. He seem- 
ed to listen anxiously to the song of the 
court crier as he formally opened the pro- 
ceedings, and next directed his gaze intent- 
ly at the District Attorney as he moved on 
the cause. 
The District Attorney arose, and looking 
at the indictment, said he desired to have 
the prisoner plead. 
Clerk-Prisoner, stand up. You are in- 
dicted for murder in the first degree in 
having caused the death of Mansfield Tracy 
Walworth. Do you demand a trial? Are 
you guilty or not guilty? 
Prisoner-Yes, sir (meaning he demanded 
a trial). 
After soirc remarks by counsel, young 
Walworth, wearing the same air of imper- 
turbability, was ushered from the room and 
reconveycd to the Tombs, followed by a 
curious crowd. 
X. 
THE TKIAIi. 
The trial of Frank II. Walworth com- 
menced on Tuesday morning, June 24, 
1873. The Court of Oyer and Terminer 
was filled with citizens, from whom were 
I to be sifted twelve men to try the parricide, 
j Among the friends of the prisoner were 
the Bev. Dr. Backus, of Schenectady, son- 
; in-law or Cliancclor Walworth-; Lemuel THE WALWORTH I'Altl'J l!)E, 
Hardin, brother of Mrs. M. T. Walworth; 
and Gen. James Lorimer Graham. Young 
Walworth was escorted in by Sheriff Bren- 
nan and Deputy Shields. His bearing was 
cool and haughty as ever. 
Mr. O'Conor entered with solemn and 
i dirge-like tread. He was accompanied by 
a tall, slender lady, draped in deep mourn- 
ing. Beside her walked a pretty boy, with 
bright hazel eyes, and a fair, intelligent 
face. The lady was the prisoner's mother. 
Judge Barbour and Father Clarence Wal- 
, worth were present during part of the 
i day. 
, The entire day was consumed in securing 
a jury. The following gentleman were 
i selected: 
. 1. Joseph II. Horton, 25 John street, 
■ jeweller. 
2. Jacob A. Chamberlain, 519 West 
Thirty-third street, provisions. 
1 3. James Wm. Tucker, 226 West Twenty- 
ninth street, machinist. 
4. John P. Bell, 210 East 113th street, 
lumber. 
5. Bernard Campbell, 203 East Forty- 
sixth street, retail butcher. 
6. John Henry Lewis, 673 Greenwich 
street, gilder. 
7. Elijah II. Purdy, 43 West Thirteenth 
street, sash maker. 
8. Wm. II. Dougherty, 62 James street, 
foundry. 
9. Wm. C. Smith, 61 Perry street, 
builder. 
10. Wm. Hart, 294 Monroe street, mar- 
ble. 
11. Charles E. Millbank, 13 East Twenty- 
fourth street, brewer. 
12. George W. Wright, 16 University 
place, grocer. 
■ After consultation with the District 
Attorney and counsel for the defence, 
Judge Davis said that the jury would be 
allowed to go home for the night to make 
arrangements for the future. The Court 
relied on their integrity that they would 
not allow themselves to be influenced by 
anything said outside, and if any one 
should approach them with a view to in- 
fluence their action in this «asc, they must 
I report the person to the Court for punish- 
ment. He hoped that the press would 
refrain from comments during- the trial. 
Court opened at ten o'clock on Wednes- 
day morning. There was an unusual rush 
for seats at the opening of the Court, but, 
with the special instructions which had 
been given, perfect order and quiet was 
observed during the proceedings. The 
prisoner was brought in. in custody of the 
Sheriff's deputies, at half-past ten, at which 
time his counsel and the prosecuting officers 
were already in their places. Walworth 
was exceedingly self-collected, but had an 
anxious appearance. His mother, deeply 
veiled and clad in mourning, sat beside him 
during the day. Ilis grandmother and 
several other ladies, also in mourning, 
were present and seemed deeply interested 
in the proceedings. 
Mr. Rollins, Assistant District Attorney, 
presented the case for the prosecution, 
addressing the jury at considerable length, 
and minutely detailing all the circumstances 
of the shooting. He alluded to parricide 
as a "crime so revolting to nature that 
many nations had considered it impossible. 
The Persians had no penalty for parricide, 
for they did not believe that a Persian 
would commit such a crime. Among the 
Chinese the whole family of a parricide 
was exterminated, and his very dwelling 
place razed to the ground." 
Mrs. Eliza Simms was the first witness 
called, and testified as follows:-I live 
on Fourth avenue, between Fifty-fourth 
and Fifty-fifth streets; Tracy Mansfield 
Walworth roomed with me two years; 1 
saw the prisoner on the second of June, 
about three r. M., about the time the chil- 
dren got home; he asked me if Mr. Wal- 
worth was in; I went and looked and he 
was not in, and I so told him; he said, 
"Tell Mr. Walworth to come to the Stur- 
tevant House, his son wants to see him;" I 
asked him if he was Ins son; he said,. 
"Yes-" I told him he had better write, aji 
note apd I would give it to him; he wrote 
a note and I put it on Mr. Walworth's 
I never saw Mr. Walworth after I pu6 the 
note on his table: the prisoner had on a THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
light overcoat and was cool and polite. 
There was no cross-examination. 
Hooper C. Barrett, clerk of the Sturtevant 
House, testified:-Iliad known the prisoner 
ftt Saratoga; I saw him on the second of 
June; I sent him up to No. 267; I talked 
with him about Saratoga affairs; no allusion 
was made to his father or his purpose in 
coming; about an hour later he came down 
and went out; when he came in he asked 
to take dinner with him; I told him I 
Would take supper with him; I saw him 
again about seven r. m. ; I was at the 
Counter; we took supper together at eight 
o'clock; his manner was his usual manner 
ap I had known it at Saratoga; I next saw 
him at half-past six next morning; he came 
tp the cashier's desk and said, "I have 
shot father;" I said, "You don't mean to 
say that;" he said, "Yes, I shot him four 
times, get a policeman;" I sent a boy out 
tp get a policeman ; he didn't find one, and 
I telegraphed for one to the district tele- 
graph office; 1 had seen Mansfield V»'al- 
worth that morning; he spoke to the night 
clerk and asked for Mr. Walworth's 
(prisoner's) room; the night clerk asked 
spe and I told him the number of the room; 
lie went up with a boy; I did not notice 
the bell of 267 being rung; I did not no- 
tice the bell of 268 rung violently; the 
prisoner came down not more than two or 
three minutes later; No. 268 was Mr. Ebert's 
rpom; the prisoner's manner was cool; he 
dictated a telegram to C. A. Walworth, 
Albany, stating, " I have shot father, look 
Out for mother;" he spoke to me as a friend ; 
that was the first intimation of the killing 
I had. 
; Cross-examined-To Mr. O'Conor-I was 
Malf-an-hour with him at supper; I did not 
«Cc him take dinner; he asked me to take 
dinner with him when he first came in; I 
remember the ringing of the bell for room 
No. 268 and his coming down were very 
/ near together, but I can't say how near; he 
I handed me $7.10; he took it out of his 
pocket and handed it to me; I don't Femem- 
feer in what bills they were; he said, 
7 There's money I think that will pay my 
hill; you take charge of it;" I don't know 
that he had any other money; I have known 
him about two years; I made his acquain- 
tance when visiting Saratoga; I judge he 
reached the hotel about half past three, 
because there is a train coming in about 
half an hour before that time, and it takes 
about half an hour to reach the hotel; I 
sent the telegram through the telegraph in 
the hotel; I don't know what they do with 
tho messages; it was addressed to C. A. 
Walworth, Chapel Street, Albany. 
William II. Amos (colored) testified-I 
am bellman at the Sturtevant House; I am 
on duty from a qu-trtcr of five in the morn- 
ing to midnight; about six o'clock of the 
third of June a gentleman came to the 
hotel; he spoke to the clerk, who called 
me and gave me a card ; I carried it up to 
room No. 2G7 and rapped twice on the 
door; I said, "I have a card with Mr. 
Walworth's name on it;" just as I said it 
the door opened and I saw Mr. Walworth's 
face and hand ; he said, " I am not up," or 
"I'm not dressed;" I went down and told 
them the gentlemen would be down in a 
few minutes; I waited some time; the bell 
of No. 2G7 rang; then I went up and I 
knocked; Mr. Walworth said, "Come in;" 
I went in; he was sitting by the window 
and said, "Show the gentleman up;" 1 
went down and showed Mr. Walworth up; 
the prisoner was still sittingby the window; 
I didn't see the prisoner rise; I saw Mr. 
Walworth step to the corner of the bed- 
stead and I turned and went out; I saw the 
prisoner again in not less than five or more 
than ten minutes after; he was coming 
down stairs, not very fast but lively; he 
went up to Mr. Barrett; I did not hear 
what was said by him; Mr. Barrett asked 
me to go for an officer; I went up and down 
the street a little way, but couldn't find 
any, so I came back ; as I turned to go out 
some one said, "Quick as lightning;" I 
know who said it; Mr. Barrett and 
the prisoner were the only ones present; 
when I got back a messenger boy was 
there. 
To Mr. O'Conor-i was engaged the 
Saturday evening previous, and went on 
duty Monday, June second; I noticed the "He closed upon me rapidly. His grasp was upon me when I fired the * 
last time."-See Page 37. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
prisoner on Monday; he looked as if he 
had been travelling, and his boots were 
dusty; he shook hands with Mr. Barrett; 
I don't remember particularly the time 
when I carried up the card the next morn- 
ing; I can't say whether the prisoner was 
dressed or not; I only saw his face and 
hands; Mr. Walworth said nothing to me, 
but when he went in he turned round and 
gave inc a look, as if he wanted me to leave 
the room; it was a kind of frown; he did 
not look as cross as you (Mr. O'C'onor) do 
now (laughter); he looked as if he wanted 
me to leave the room: I suppose he shut 
the door. 
Josiah forehead testified-On the morn-1 
ing of June second I occupied room 2GG at 
the Sturtevant House. 
Q. Did you at any time on that morning 
hear the noise of a pistol shot? A. I did. 
Q. What time was it? A. Very near 
half-past six. 
Q. "What happened-what did you hear 
and see? A. I saw nothing; I heard a knock 
at a door; then I heard, "Here is," or 
"There is a card for you, sir;" then some 
little time after I heard a door either open 
or shut, and a very short time subsequently 
I heard a shot; then another after about 
the length of time a man would take to 
cock, aim, and fire a pistol; after the 
second shot I heard a cry of murder in a 
terrified voice; almost immediately I heard 
a third shot and a second cry of murder; 
then in quick succession a fourth shot; 
then I heard some person running, as I took 
it, through the entry; I did not leave my 
bed until after I heard the fourth shot; 
then I jumped out and dressed, and got out 
to the hall; I saw the housekeeper and Mr. 
Doolittle, the steward, I think, in the hall; 
I with them made search to ascertain the 
cause of the firing; we looked in the bath- 
room and one or two rooms, then I opened 
the room next to mine and looked in; I saw 
the body of a person lying partially upon 
the floor; this was from ten to fifteen 
minutes from the time I had left my room : 
I was not able to distinguish where the 
shots proceeded from; I thought it was up 
stairs; I looked into the room, then I 
backed out, and said, "My God! here he 
is!" I said, "For God's sake send for Dr. 
Child's;" the body was lying upon the left 
side, the head a little elevated against the 
washstand. 
Q. After hearing the door open ana shut 
did you hear anything? A. Not a word : 
heard no noise or altercation and no move- 
ment; had heard people speaking in the 
adjacent room on previous occasions, but 
on that morning heard nothing at all. 
Charles M. Doolittle testified-I rose at 
six A. M., and called some girls at twenty 
minutes past six A. M.; about five minutes 
after that I heard a shot; I was then on the 
landing of the floor on which No. 2G7 is; 
was on the main staircase; I think I heard 
more than one shot, but I didn't count 
them; all were fired within a minute, as 
quick as a man could cock a firearm and 
point it; when the shots were fired I heard 
a human voice; whether it was a cry of 
murder or a groan of pain I could not say; 
when I was opening the doors I heard the 
annunciator ringing; there was a very brief 
interval; I think Mr. Barrett was the first 
man who told me of the killing-in the 
presence of the prisoner; I then went di- 
rectly to No. 207; I did not go in; 1 saw 
the body; I went for a doc or. 
Dr. Russell Childs testified-I am a physi- 
cian; 1 live at the Sturtevant House; on 
the third of June I was summoned to room 
2G7, it must have been near seven; nearer 
than half-past six; I found a body lying on 
the left side with its head agiinst the wash- 
stand; I felt the pulse; it was barely per- 
ceptible ; the respiration was very feeble; 
the wash-basin had had water in it; blood 
had spurted into the water already there; 
under the bed was quite a pool of blood; 
in a very brief space of time pulse and 
respiration ceased ; as he was evidently at 
the point of death I did not move him; 
from the wound in the temple there was a 
slight oozing; afterwards I examined the 
body, but not very thoroughly, as I knew 
there was to be a Coronor's jury; several 
assisted me in placing the body on the bed; 
a portion of the clothing was removed, and 
a slight examination of his pockets made; THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
we found a card ; I had been long acquainted 
with Chancellor Walworth, and my interest 
in the family induced me to go and see the 
grandson; he gave me a telegraphic dis- 
patch to his grandmother in Chicago; I 
showed it to the sergeant; I believe he 
handed it back to me; I took it to Mr. Bar- 
rett at the hotel. 
Stephen Keating, sergeant of the Twenty- 
ninth Precinct, testified-I saw the prisoner 
at a qnarter to seven a. m. ; he said he had 
shot his father, and wished to give himself 
up; he drew a pistol from his pocket and 
said, "This is the pistol I shot him with;" 
it had one undischarged cartridge; I asked 
him if his father was dead; he said he must 
be, the last time he shot him he was very 
near him; Tasked him why he did it; he 
said he had m t lived with his mother for a 
long time, and had threatened to kill his 
mother and her children; I asked him 
when he last saw his father; he said not 
since last fall; 1 asked him whether he 
had any disturbance with his father that 
morning; he said no; he showed me his 
left hand; the back of it was scratched or 
raised, and he said it was burnt with the 
powder; we took away from him a pocket 
knife; he said, "Do you think I would 
commit suicide? You are mistaken." 
Sergeant Washington Mullen testified-I 
went to the Sturtevant house with Dr. Mul- 
ford and searched the pockets of the de- 
ceased ; I found a note and some keys; I 
was present at the Coronor's examination; 
he stated as follows: 
Mr. O'Conor here interrupted, claiming 
that to admit in evidence the examination 
before the Coroner, in view of the fact that 
the statement was made while the prisoner 
was in custody, and without the usual and 
proper warning, and merely preserved 
orally, was a most dangerous innovation. 
The Court held that at present it appear- 
ed only as a voluntary statement. 
Mr. Beach examined the witness, who 
stated: 
This was in the station house. I intro- 
duced the Coroner as the Coroner. lie had 
no writing materials that I know' of. When 
he said lie had been studying law the Coro- 
ner said, " Well then I suppose you know 
what is right." That is all I remember of 
a preliminary nature. 
Mr. O'Conor said that this was exactly 
the exception which the law refused to 
hear. 
The Court held that the mere introduc- 
tion of the Coroner as the Coroner gave the 
conversation no official character, and ad- 
mitted the evidence. (Exception.) 
Witness resumed: 
The Coroner asked him why lie came to 
New York; he answered, "To do this;" 
the Coroner said, "To kill your father?" 
he answered, "Well to settle this family 
difficulty." 
Coroner Nelson IT". Fcizn'7 was called and 
testified to the holding of the inquest and 
the statement there made by the prisoner, 
(page 37.) 
The result of the post mortem examina- 
tion was then given in evidence, (page 31), 
after which the prosecution rested. 
Mr. Beach at 3:30 p. m. opened the case 
for the prisoner, and occupied an hour and 
a half in his address to the Jury. During 
the entire day the prisoner had remained 
calm and collected, hut as Mr. Beach pro- 
ceeded in a pathetic manner to describe the 
wrongs Mansfield T. Walworth, whom he 
pronounced a demoniac fiend, had inflicted 
upon his wife and childcrn, the prisoner's 
feelings gave way, and dropping his head 
in his hands he seemed deeply affected. At 
the conclusion of Mr. Beach's address the 
court adjourned, the jury being allowed to 
separate. 
The Court opened on Thursday and was 
soon filled to a jam with spectators. There 
was quite a number of ladies present. 
Many of them were old stagers in the mur- 
der trial line of spectators, two of them 
having attended, it is said, every murder 
case held in this city during the past ten 
years. Immediately behind the counsel 
there were several lady friends of the Wal- 
worth family, some of whom had been sub- 
poenaed to attend, and others of them hav- 
ing come merely to give testimony by their 
presence to their friendship for the prisoner 
and his mother. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Augustus Ebert was the first witness ex- 
amined for the defence, and testified that 
on the morning of June 3 he had occupied 
room 268 in the Sturtevant House, which 
immediately adjoined that in which young 
Walworth was; he heard some loud talking, 
but was not fully awake until after the first 
shot; he could not distinguish any of the 
words made use of, and heard no cry of 
murder; on hearing the shot he had jumped 
out of bed and pulled the bell violently. 
To the District Attorney-I was very 
much excited at the time; the only words 
I could distinguish were "hope," "mother," 
"liar, " but could not make out any con- 
nected sentence. 
Clarence T. Jenkins testified that he was 
a nephew of the deceased; lived in Albany; 
took charge of the effects of M. T. Wal- 
worth. 
Bev. Jonathan T. Backus, brother-in-law 
of deceased ; Mrs. Ann Eliza Backus, sister 
of deceased; John M. Davidson, brother-in 
law of deceased ; Chief Justice John M. Bar- 
bour, Joseph II? Hill, a lawyer of Saratoga 
in whose office the prisoner was studying 
law ; John B. Putnam, a lawyer of Saratoga; 
Wm. C. Barrett-, a Justice of the Peace at 
Saratoga; Anson M. Boyce, of Saratoga; 
Otto JW Bclleau, principal of the boys' 
boarding school which the prisoner had at- 
tended up to May last, all testified to the 
prisoner's good character. Most of these 
witnesses testified that he had no vices, 
while some'scemed to regard him as immac- 
ulate. None of the witnesses were cross- 
examined. The District Attorney simply 
asked the pertinent question of each, " Do 
you know7 that he was in the habit of carry- 
ing a pistol during the past three years?'' 
To this every one replied in the negative. 
Clarence A. Walworth, a Catholic clergy- 
man, testified-I am the eldest son of Chan- 
cellor Walworth ; reside at Albany; that is 
the original will of my father (document 
shown him); the executors are Dr. Backus 
and myself; Mansfield T. Walworth and I 
were the only two sons of the Chancellor; 
his daughters were Mrs. Jenkins, Mrs. Da- 
vidson and Mrs. Backus; I have known 
Frank Walworth from his infancy; his 
character is as near perfect as may be; dur- 
ing this spring I entertained the project of 
travelling abroad, with the view of remain- 
ing some time; spoke to Frank's mother 
about his going with me, and alluded to it 
the tvcek previous to June 2; received.a 
letter from Frank on this subject, enclosing 
another letter; received them in the after- 
noon of June 2; Frank's letter is dated 
"Sunday, 1873;'' the letter enclosed is in 
the handwriting of Mansfield, the deceased; 
before 1 received the letters I got a telegram 
from Frank's mother saying that Frank had 
gone from Saratoga, she feared, to meet 
his father; on Tuesday, June 3, I received 
a telegram from New York saying that 
Frank had shot his father three times. 
To Mr. Phelps-I did not know that 
Frank was in the habit of carrying a pistol. 
Thomas E. Dennis, telegraph operator, 
identified the following telegram sent by 
Mr. Barrett at the instance of the prisoner. 
New York, June 3, 1873. 
C. A. Walworth, Chapel street, Albany:- 
Have shot father three times. Look after 
mother. Frank Walworth. 
Hooper C. Barrett recalled, stated that 
that was the telegram he wrote at the direc- 
tion and in the presence of the accused. 
Mrs. Ellen Hardin Walworth was the next 
witness, and being sworn said:-I ant the 
mother of Frank II. Walworth; was mar- 
ried to ST. T. Walworth in St. Peter's 
church, Saratoga Springs, in 1852, on July 
29, and resided at the Chancellor's house, 
which my mother now owns; lived there 
until the summer of 1861; the Chancellor's 
family and my two brothers resided in the 
house at the same time. 
The witness then gave the names of her 
children, with the dates of their birth, as 
follows: 
Frank IL, born, August 17, 1853. 
John Jay, born October 19, 1855. 
Bessie, born November 2, 1856. 
Nellie, born November 3, 1858. 
Clarence, born October 20, 1859. 
Mansfield Tracy, born June 19, 1861. 
Rubina, born February 19, 1867. 
Sarah, born June 7, 1871. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Of these children John Jay, Bessie and 
Sarah died, the latter in 1872. 
In the summer of 18G1 I went to Ken- 
tucky, near Louisville, my brother Lemuel 
going with me, and all of my children; 
lived there until 13G7; my husband did not 
go there with me; lived in Kentucky three 
years without seeing him; he did not re- 
main in Saratoga when I went to Kentucky; 
he promised to meet me there; where he 
went I do not know; daring the first winter 
he was in Washington, and afterwards in 
Saratoga; I had a country place three miles 
from Louisville, by means of which I sup- 
ported my family; the Chancellor visited 
me there, and three years after I first went 
there my husband came to see me, and re- 
mained for about six weeks; I next saw 
him in Saratoga the following summer, and 
stayed there about a week; in the Decem- 
ber following I saw him in New York, at a 
boarding house in Madison avenue; I came 
to New York to find employment, but not 
succeeding, went to Washington and secur- 
ed an appointment under the government; 
I then gathered my children around me and 
put Frank at college in Georgetown; was 
eighteen months a government clerk, during 
which time my husband was with his 
brother, Clarence, at Albany; when I was 
discharged, owing to a change of politics, 
I went to Saratoga, to the family mansion, 
and opened a boardinghouse, and remained 
there until October, 18G9, during a portion 
of which time my husband was with me, 
Frank being then in Louisville; at the ur- 
gent request of Mansfield T. Walworth I 
came to New York, to a house in Twenty- 
third street, belonging to a Mrs. Montross, 
all of my children being with me; the very 
day of my arrival I was taken ill, and con- 
tinued so until taken to my brother's house 
in Buffalo; my husband did not go with 
me to Buffalo; soon after went to Kentucky, 
and the following summer M. T. Walworth 
followed and remained three weeks, after 
which he went to Saratoga; I spent the 
summer of I860 in Saratoga; deceased was 
there for three months, and the whole fam- 
ily was together; then went back to Ken- 
tucky ; deceased came there in 18G7 and 
remained there until his father's death; 1 
arrived at tlie Chancellor's just after his 
death, with my infant child. Ilubina, but 
soon returned to Kentucky and brought all 
my children except Frank back to Sarato- 
ga: Frank stayed with his uncle Lemuel; 
deceased was living with his brother Clar- 
ence, and we discussed the question of a 
future residence but came to no under- 
standing about it; in November, 1870, I 
went to my mother's house in Fifty-second 
street, New York, Mr. Walworth being 
with me, and we remained there until th# 
Anal separation on the 2Gth of January, 
1871 I then went with all my children to 
Judge Barbour, and since then have not 
seen deceased; legal proceedings for a lim- 
ited divorce were commenced in the Superi- 
or Court on January 57, 1871, and on the 
Sth of April, 1871, a decree of separation 
was pronounced; on the 31st of July follow- 
ing the decree was modified to allow Mr. 
Walworth to sec his children once a month; 
after I left Judge Barbour I went to my 
brother, General Hardin, at the Hoffman 
House; then went to my brother-in-law, 
Clarence, at Albany; remained there three 
weeks, and went to Dr. Backus, taking my 
children with me; from there I went to the 
old homestead at Saratoga; have remained 
there ever since with my children; Mr. 
Walworth addressed me very frequently by 
letter after our separation; after I left him 
my youngest child was born; being delicate 
from its birth, died January, 1872; Mr. 
Walworth never came near the house and 
never saw his youngest child; I did not. 
always receive his letters; for the first two 
or three months I did, but after that it was 
only occasionally that I received them; 
some of his letters never reached me; there 
was no male person in my house who could 
protect me except my son; Clarence Wal- 
worth spoke to me on the Thursday before 
the occurrence about taking Frank with 
him to Europe; I told Frank of it that 
evening; he seemed gratified, but said he 
should think about it; on Friday he went 
fishing with his younger brother to Sarato- 
ga Lake; returned about six o'clock in the 
evening and ritired early; on Saturday he THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
was arranging his clothes, books and other 
things and went swinging in the grove; on 
Sunday he slept until late; some young 
friends of his called in the afternoon, and 
they went to walk in the -woods; he wrote 
a letter on that day and asked me for some 
note paper, which I gave him; on Monday 
morning I came down early, and seeing 
Frank in the hall, said, " You are up 
early;" he made some casual reply and went 
out the front door; I thought he had gone 
to the Springs and at breakfast table asked 
why he did not return; some one said that 
he had gone away and left a message that if 
he was not back to supper he would not be 
home that day; I then went to his room, and 
on looking around found an empty envel- 
ope in the hand writingof M. T. Walworth; 
I immediately telegraphed to Father Wal- 
worth and to Judge Barbour; but could as- 
certain nothing about him, and then believ- 
ed he had gone to Troy. 
The envelope she found was produced. 
It was postmarked, " May 30." 
A recess was here taken, after which Mrs. 
Walworth again took the witness stand and 
identified a document which proved to be a 
stipulation modifying the decree of divorce, 
signed by her, and said she had a counter- 
part of it, signed by Mr. Walworth; she 
supported herself and children entirely by 
her own exertions, with the exception of 
about three hundred and fifty dollars receiv- 
ed from the Walworth estate; while she lived 
with Mansfield T. Walworth he always car- 
ried a pistol. A pistol being produced, 
she said it originally belonged to a Mr. 
Adams, who is now dead, and which was 
given by Mrs. Adams to Frank to take care 
of some time in 1870, since which time he 
has had charge of it; the way I found my 
husband's letters had been kept from me 
was that Frank gave me a large package of 
his father's letters a few months after the 
separation under my promise not to read 
them; since that Tuesday, (the day of the 
murder,) I have found numbers of letters in 
Frank's secretary; I know he was advised 
to keep them from me; a few reached me. 
(Several letters were here shown her one by 
one.) This letter I have seen before; I know 
Frank saw it; it must have been received in 
August, 1873. (This letter was dated Au- 
gust 13, supposed to be in 1872.) 
The following letter, written by the 
prisoner the Sunday prior to his fatal visit 
to New York, and received by his uncle in 
Albany on Monday, June 2, 1873, was then 
read: 
Saratoga, N. Y., Sunday, '73. 
Dear Uncle-Mother told me of the 
invitation you extended to me to accompany 
you to Europe. Having only recently any 
desire to go to Europe, the invitation was 
particularly acceptable, and as I 'would 
have to leave her soon any way to attend 
the Albany Law School, I told her (on her 
intimating that you wished an answer "in 
the morning") that she might say I would 
like to go. I am of the opinion that it 
would be neither safe nor wise to leave her 
unprotected against father's acts. In fact, 
I do not think her situation is by any 
means a safe one as it is. I enclose a letter 
from father to her, which I received yester- 
day. I am going down to New York in the 
morning to try to see him, ami I may add. 
without informing mother, for she would 
feel very uneasy. My trip will determine 
any question in regard to my going to 
Europe or anywhere else. I will be heartily 
sorry if I shall have caused you any trouble 
or expense. Affec. your nephew. 
F. II. Walworth. 
Mr. O'C'onor then read Mansfield Tracy 
Walworth's last letter to his wife, ami 
which she never received, it having been 
intercepted by Frank and afterwards sent 
by him to his uncle, enclosed in the letter 
above given. This letter (supposed to be 
of May 30, 1873, instead of May 3) is as 
follows: 
May 3, Seven o'clock in the Morning. 
Prepare yourself for the inevitable. I am 
getting over my wasting fever and shall be 
out of my room in a few days. I am going 
to call upon my children; my heart is starv- 
ing for their caresses. Make the interview 
as easy and pleasant as possible. I cannot 
stay from them much longer. I will see 
them-peaceably if I can or with a tragedy 
if I must. Their little faces haunt me, as THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
they are mine. Popish cruelty must bend 
to the demand of a father's breast, or the 
Walworth name goes out in blood. Keep 
Frank Walworth out of my way. You 
have taught him to hate me, and his pres- 
ence or obstruction in any way will only 
excite fatal exasperation. I want to see 
my little girl and come away peaceably. 
Beware that you do not in any way arouse 
the frenzy which you have known to exist 
since you left me. There is a reasonable 
way to deal with me. I shall have my 
rights under that decree, with no further 
legal delay or expense. I have conceded 
promptly every right under that decree, 
and now I am going to see my children, 
and you shall not bring them up, to hate 
their loving father. Eliza Backus has 
written to me that you will do it if you 
can, from your associations with them, and 
then I shall shoot you and myself on those 
door-steps, for I have nothing further to 
live for. I am a broken-hearted desperado. 
I admit it. Save this letter for lawyers and 
courts if you please. God is my lawyer; 
not the remorseless, brutal god that you 
and Eliza Backus and C. A. Walworth 
worship, but that God who has planted 
love in my heart for my little girls, and 
that says to the tiger bereft of its young. 
"Kill'.'' You are an infamous wretch to 
keep me for more than two years from the 
little hands and hearts that love me. Your 
only excuse was my poverty and misfortune. 
When Frank refused to speak to me in the 
streets of Saratoga I said to myself, "She 
is teaching them all to hate a broken- 
hearted father." Then all is lost, and the 
tragedy must come. When I kno.w from 
the conduct of my little girls that you have 
taught them to hate me, that moment two 
pistol shots will ring about your house- 
one slaying you, the other myself. I know 
that you have no personal fear, no more 
than I have, but we both must die when 
that discovery comes that you have es- 
tranged my young children from me. It is 
possible you have not done so, and you 
shall have your life. If my little girls do 
dot love me then life is valueless, and I 
shall die with a feeling of luxury and rest 
to come; but you will havefto attend me to 
the spirit land. The God of justice de- 
mands it. Therefore I say to you, do right 
under that decree, then all may be well; 
but now' my heart is agonized for my little 
children. If you had common sense you 
would know' how to appreciate the danger. 
MajJ&field Tracy Walworth. 
After some discussion by counsel as to 
the admissibility of the letters identified by 
this witness, the Court adjourned. 
Upon the opening of the Court room on 
Friday morning it was immediately crowded 
with spectators. Such c igerness to catch 
a sight of the prisoner and such anxiety to 
witness the proceedings were never before 
evinced within the recollection of the oldest 
court habitue. At no criminal trial either 
has the attendance of ladies been so large, 
and they sat all day with heads craned for- 
ward with curiosity that never slacked. 
Mrs. Walworth, the murderer's mother, 
came in promptly at ten, leaning on the 
arm of her husband's brother, Father Y al- 
worth, and the prisoner came in almost 
immediately after, and conversed cheerfully 
and unrestrainedly with her until the 
"Hats off" of the Court Crier called atten- 
tion to the important business of the day. 
Many of the friends and relatives of the 
prisoner's family were also present. 
After argument by counsel, Judge Davis 
decided to admit the letter of Aug 13, 1872, 
in part. lie should strike out all which 
was merely historical, however coarse, and 
admit the threatening portion alone. He 
said that the late decision of the Court of 
Appeals (Stokes' case) seemed to permit a 
wider latitude, to engender a tendency of 
liberality in the construction of the law- 
applying to this character of evidence, and, 
as there was a doubt, he should give the 
benefit of the doubt to the prisoner. 
Mr. Beach took exception to the ruling 
so far as it excluded any portion of the 
letter. 
The portion of the letter ruled out by the 
Court was also read at last, the District 
Attorney consenting to have it go before 
the jury with the rest. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
The following as rhe letter in full: 
Publication House of Carleton & Co., j 
Under. Fifth Avenue Hotel, > 
New York, August 14. ) 
Listen to these terrible words. They will 
show you how keenly and fiercely I feel the 
humiliation of Reuben II. Walworth's will, 
and what a Scot, the descendant of King 
Malcolm, will do when all has been, taken 
from him. Reuben II. Walworth always 
hated me from my cradle. He always 
hated any one who was high spirited and 
would speak out their thoughts. He al- 
ways liked cringing hypocrites, like Eliza 
Backus and Clarence Walworth. Al- 
though he saw my ambitious spirit he hated 
it, because it would not toady to his 
favorite Yankees. Hence from my cradle 
he persecuted • me and headed me off in 
every pursuit or speculation. I could not 
please him in anything because I would not 
whine to him about his favorites. Every- 
thing that I ever rung from him, even my 
pay in the Spike case, was rung from his 
fears. The only reason that he did not 
omit my name from his will altogether was 
that he respected my talents and hoped I 
Would write his life. He knew nobody else 
would. But he has stung me into madness 
and broken up my family by placing me in 
the humiliating position of being under a 
trustee, and that trustee my brother, wdio 
has neither ambition nor heart. From his 
grave he glares at me and says:-" Ha! ha! 
You were always proud and high spirited, 
but by my will I have put in your side a 
thorn for life. You have no dignity under 
it, and it will sting you to your grave. The 
only ones of my name who have any dignity 
under my will are your sons, Frank and 
Tracy, who will bear my name to posterity." 
Now, Ellen Hardin, knowing that I am 
helpless under that will, if you will persist 
in trying year by year to see how much of 
that trust property you can get out of me 
by threats of law, by personal blandish- 
ments to my trustees, or by any other 
means; if you doubt and will not see that I 
ought to have something for my entire life, 
whether he intended me to or not, then 
mark what will be the finale of my ven- 
geance upon that dead scoundrel dog who 
has made me so pitiable before men and 
before you. I will-so help me the demons 
who wait upon the persecuied aad the 
proud spirited and the revengeful-I will, 
when stripped by you of my property (and 
you mean it at last) plunge my dagger into 
Frank and Tracy's heart, and cut oh' the 
Walworth name forever. God d n him, 
he has elevated them and degraded me, and 
you gloat over it. I have not one single 
firm right under his will. This you believe, 
and this has been the cause of your de- 
spising and abandoning me. With cold, 
calm purpose you contemplate my eventual 
beggary and humiliation. I will kill your 
boys and defeat the d d scoundrel in 
his grave and cut off his d d name for- 
ever. Now you just persecute me about 
that property, and keep this thorn alive in 
my heart, by the eternal God I will kill 
them and you too. Now you hunt my 
property any further , and I will 
kill your boys as -well at you. The 
dead villian shan't rob me of wife, children 
and property. If I can't have anything, I'll 
have revenge. I have lost nearly 
everything which makes life tolerable. 
(The letter is without signature). 
The reading of this letter was listened to 
with the deepest attention and caused pro- 
found sensation. The mother and son sat 
apparently unaffected during the reading. 
Mr. O'Conor then read the provisions of the 
will of Chancellor Walworth affecting his 
son Mansfield. His share is given in trust 
for the use of himself and family. Mr. 
O'Conor also read the decree of divorce da- 
ted February 7, 1871, providing for the sep- 
aration of Mansfield T. Walworth from his 
wife Ellen T. Walworth, and for the mainte- 
nance of herself and children. 
J/rs. Ellen Hardin then resumed 
the stand and her examination was contin- 
ued by Mr. O'Conor. 
■ Q. After decree of divorce when did you 
first learn that Mr. Walworth had any wish 
to visit or see his children ? A. In the fall 
of 1872, I think in November. 
? Q. Had you known of this clause in the 
decree before that time ? A. I had. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Q. Did you oppose in any degree his being 
allowed to see his children ? A. I did not, I 
was willing that they might be seen in pres- 
ence of their uncle, Rev. Clarence Walworth, 
upon a week's notice to my attorney. 
Mr. O'Conor, after some preliminary ques- 
tions, now' asked whether any acts of perso- 
nal violence had been committed upon her 
by her husband, while they resided in Fifty- 
second street, in 1871 
Mr. Phelps objected, and Sir. O'Conor sta- 
ted that they intended to prove that such 
acts were perpetrated, and young Frank 
came into the room at the time ; that it had 
a very great effect upon him for a long time. 
The Court-Do you intend to allege that 
Re wras insane when this act was commit, 
ted ? 
Sir. O'Conor-We intend to allege that his 
mind was so affected that he was not sound 
at the time of his interview' with his father. 
Sir Beach we shall furnish evidence show- 
ing that the state of his mind was such that 
he was not responsible. 
The examination was resumed and the 
witness said: Sly son was called in on that 
occurrence; it was about eight P. SI.; it 
was about ten days previous to the separa- 
tion, I had been subjected to physical vio- 
lence, which compelled me to scream; my 
scream brought in Frank ; he did not leave 
me till midday of next day: my husband re- 
mained in the room until next morning: I 
noticed in Frank a repitition of the peculi- 
arities I had noticed four months before 
when I first indicated to Frank that his fa- 
ther had used personal violence to me; I 
showed a severe bruise on my arm; he 
showed extreme pallor, and I noticed a 
pinched look on his features expressing se- 
vere suffering, both mental and physical; it 
alarmed me so much that I did not, on his 
account, afterwards tell him ; he was very 
quiet, and simply said "This must not be I" 
on this occasion, in January, as soon as I 
myself recovered, I noticed the same symp- 
toms ; when he came in he had his hand on 
l»s father's shoulder, and said, "Be quiet, 
father; " there was no further violence by 
his father; after the first occasion I rarely 
spoke to Frank of his father; we very rarely 
spoke of him; on a few occasions during 
the first few* months when I was receiving 
Mr. Walworth's letters, I saw him reading 
them, and noticed some of the same symp- 
toms each time; afterwards, when I ceased 
to receive them, I frequently noticed similar 
symptoms without knowing the cause, and 
thought his health was affected ; once I saw 
him most violently affected, as I knew next 
day by receiving the letter which he had 
read; I was called up by one of the children 
saying "Frank is sick;" I went up and 
found him with his body rigid and this pallor 
of which I have spoken; I applied such res- . 
toratives as I couldt and he shortly fell into 
a profound sleep for an hour; I notjeed sim- 
ilar symptoms on various occasions, in 
greater or less degree; he was before I first 
let him know about his father a very gay, 
joyous boy; after that he was at times very 
quiet and abstracted; there was a noteable 
failure of his memory; we used to laugh at 
him as absent minded; he would go to his 
room for some article of dress to go out and 
come down without it; go down street and 
forget his errand, and after locking up the 
house would go round to lock up again, 
sometimes two or three times; he was ab- 
stracted at the table ; several times screams 
from his room woke me up and I went to his 
door; his pillow was stained at times; I saw' 
Frank the Monday he left Saratoga; I 
noticed his extreme paleness then; noticed 
his great paleness; when he was in these fits 
of abstraction he generally had a sad look; 
he was always courteous to others, but be- 
fore this he was rvcly; he was not subject to 
fits of anger; his character, so far as I know', 
was invariably good, both as to amiability 
and uprightness; there was nothing to call a 
vice, or, in the ordinary sense, an irregular 
ity in him; he was always amiable and kind 
in the family, but not demonstrative; he had 
never in my hearing uttered any threats 
against his father; I mentioned to Frank an 
occurrence which took place at the Hoffman 
House between his father and my brother; I 
told him that his father had entered my 
brother's room, while he w'as in bed, and 
presented a pistol at his head w'hile he was THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
in bed; that fact I had no personal knowl- 
edge of; it was stated to me. 
Mr. O'Conor produced four packages 
of letters written by Mansfield T. Wal- 
worth, which -were identified by witness 
as in his handwriting. The packages 
were marked "Exhibits 9, 10. 11, 12, 
13, and 14," and were to be read in evi- 
dence to the jury at another stage of the 
proceedings, unless the ruling of the Court 
should be adverse to their introduction. The 
first contained 19 letters written by the de- 
ceased to Mrs. Walworth. The sfecond ex- 
hibit contained two small sheets of paper 
in separate envelopes wrapped around sev- 
eral percussion caps, balls, and a small quan- 
tity of powder. The remaining exhibits 
contain about the same number of letters 
written to Mrs. Walworth at another period 
and to her brother, General Hardin, and Mr. 
Walworth's sister Eliza Backus. 
Mr. O'Conor then asked Mrs. Walworth 
concerning the condition of her husband's 
mind. 
The question was objected to. 
Mr. O'Conor insisted that an important 
clement in estimating the condition of the 
prisoner's mind was the condition of the 
parent's mind, and these letters, not one, 
but many, could hardly have proceeded 
from any but an insane mind. It was with a 
view to show a hereditary stain of insanity 
that these letters would be admissible. 
The Court in this view admitted the 
questions. 
The Witness-I have seen him in his con- 
versation about very ordinary topics sud- 
denly begin to talk upon some other subject 
and work himself into confusion, throw his. 
arms violently about, and talk very violent- 
ly and very unnaturally; he wore a very 
curious expression, and when he did not 
act with violence toward myself he general- 
ly expended his fury upon some object in 
the room-perhaps a piece of furniture, and 
anything he happened to have in his hand 
he would break; I do not know that he 
would expend his fury upon any animal; it 
was in the summer of 18G5 I first noticed 
his very violent manner; it was in 1871 that 
I finally left him. 
The Court here took a recess, after which 
the examination of the witness was resumed 
by Mr. O'Conor. She was asked to state the 
peculiar acts of violence on the part of the 
deceased, in reference to herself, as showing 
his temperament and disposition. The 
Court, doubting the propriety of this course 
of inquiry, it was suspended. 
Q. Did you notice anything else peculiar 
about Frank after these spells? A. I no- 
ticed a peculiar flush of the face sometimes 
and spots over the upper part of the face at 
such times; when he came out of these 
spells it was with a start; on one occasion 
he fell and injured his head; that was when 
he was seven or eight years old; he was 
struck in his base ball club once and com- 
plained for some months after of his head. 
A pistol was here shown. 
Witness-I know this pistol; it was pre- 
sented to the Chancellor by the inventor; 
he gave it to Mansfield soon after and he 
had had it ever since; he had another pis- 
tol besides. 
Mr. O'Conor informed the court that the 
five barrels were loaded, and a court officer, 
by direction of the Court, removed the 
chambers. This was the pistol which had 
been found in the room of Mansfield Tracy 
Walworth. 
This closed the direct examination, and 
Mrs. Walworth was -cross-examined by Mr. 
Phelps. In reply to questions she said: I 
saw Frank's pistol in his possession two 
■weeks before he left Saratoga; he used to 
keep it in his room; I had no intimation of 
his departure, on that Monday, until I re- 
ceived the message that if he was not back 
to supper he would not be back that night, 
but he was speaking of going. In reply to 
further questions as to the peculiar condi- 
tions of her son's health she stated that she 
noticed a certain rigidity of the limbs 
which would last perhaps half an hour. 
Q* When did you last see Mansfield? A. 
From the time I left New York in January, 
1871, I never saw Mr. Walworth again; his 
occupation was that of an author; his first 
book, written soon after our marriage, was 
"The Mission of Death," the next was 
"Lulu," then "Stormcliffe," and then "War- THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
\vick;" he might have written another be- 
tween " Warwick'i and "Lulu;" then he 
Wrote "Beverley" and "Delaplaine;" I re- 
member there was an earlier one, "called 
"Hotspur," which came after "Lulu." 
Mr. O'Conor, taking up a book, read from 
it a list of Mr. Walworth's works in the fol- 
lowing order, and it was taken by the Court 
that they were produced in that order; 
"Warwick," "The Mission of Death," 
"Hotspur," "Lulu," " Stormcliffe," "Del- 
aplaine," and "Beverley." It is in "Bev- 
erly " that Mr. Walworth is said to portray 
his own unhappy life and experience, or a 
large portion of it. 
The "witness further stated that she did 
not know how the two volumes of MS. of 
the late Chancellor's writings got into Mans- 
field's possession. 
Clarence Jenkins was re-examined by Mr. 
O'Conor. 
Q. You stated under examination, that 
you went to the room of Mansfield with the 
Coroner, to remove the articles there and 
take care of them. Did you find a loaded 
revolver? A. I went there on the Thursday 
before the body was removed from the city 
with the Coroner and Deputy Coroner Marsh, 
to get the clothes, and in the drawer we 
found the pistol loaded, and it has so re- 
mained ; I called the Coroner's attention to 
it, and he examined it, and replaced it in 
the drawer, and locked it in, and it remain- 
ed there until I took it; it remained in my 
possession until I gave it to you just now. 
On the cross-examination by Mr. Phelps, 
the witness said: I am connected with the 
family; I went to get possession of the pro- 
perty under authority of Mrs. Walworth; I 
found a great many writings of Mr. Wal- 
worth in the room. 
To Mr. O'Conor he said: The deceased oc- 
cupied a single room in a tenement-house. 
Mr. Amsden testified-I reside at Saratoga 
( Springs; I am a gun manufacturer; I knew 
Chancellor Walworth quite "well; I know 
Frank Walworth quite well; I have seen 
considerable of him for a year; we have 
been in the habit of playing whist together; 
I saw him one Monday morning, on Broad- 
way, in Saratoga; it was near the railroad 
station, but on the other side; one of us in- 
troduced the subject; he said "When shall 
we have another social game of whist?" I 
said, "Any day this week; this afternoon if 
you like;" he said, "Won't to-morrow af- 
ternoon do as well?" I said, "Any day you 
like;" his character was irreproachable; 
never heard he had a fault. 
A number of letters were then read by 
Charles O'Conor, written by Mansfield Tracy 
Walworth to his wife. They were read as 
Mr. O'Conor stated, for the purpose of show- 
ing the insanity of the deceased, with the 
view also of deducing the inherited insanity 
of his son and murderer. A great majority 
of the letters were written while the divorce 
proceedings between Walworth and his wifq 
were pending, and the man seems to have 
been maddened by the delays and postpone- 
ments which were entailing expenses upon 
him, preventing him from proceeding in his 
literary work, and he charges it mainly to 
her and her lawyer. An important fact 
about the letters is that very few of them 
have any signature attached, and they are 
identified by the handwriting. They are 
very long, one containing five sheets, and 
are written in an irregular, spreading hand, 
with the lines unevenly spaced. The date 
of the first letter is not given. It reads: 
"Why do you not sign the papers which 
your law ger says he sept to you? Is it not 
an honorable settlement, and was it not 
signed by me promptly? I waited weeks 
and weeks patiently, but as your lawyer said 
the doctors wouldn't allow you to attend to 
any business or sign it; and now, with the 
most marvellous breach of good faith, your 
lawyer has ruthlessly and treacherously gone 
to the Trust Company which, by settlement, 
the lawyers stipulated should be left alone. 
If you incited him to this breach of faith 
you met a most signal failure. Arc you, his 
instigator, two-faced also? I made you some 
offers to get to my work, and gave you about 
$250. As is my judge I never received 
the document, which I would have abided 
by; but now I will never make such an 
agreement. Already $250 of my precious 
money gone to my lawyer. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
< 'J God ! aren't you going to sign the 
agreement your lawyer sent you? You are 
a demon keeping me from success by wast- 
ing the precious dollars and tormenting me 
after a settlement has been agreed upon. 
Great God, woman, let me go to my -work. 
The hardest time for "Delaplaine" is here. 
In six weeks the fate of the book is told. 
Ellen Hardin, sign this paper, which you 
agreed to sign. Great God, are you going 
-to allow that crafty lawyer to get your name 
and to get my name as the author of "War- 
wick" to spread his name before the 
American public as a divorce lawyer? For, 
as sure as God is in heaven, if this agree- 
ment isn't signed I will place the facts be- 
fore the public; but that is not my only 
resource, there is murder and suicide also? 
1 waited six weeks patiently, and, by the 
E 1 God, I will give you no more time, 
but throw " Delaplaine" into the ditch, re- 
open the divorce and sue for my children 
unless you sign the agreement, and will 
devote the rest of my life to fighting in the 
Courts, and with murder and suicide in the 
end." 
» July 17, 1871. 
You dishonorable . $200 more of 
the precious money gone to my lawyers. I 
cannot get into a situation where I can 
start afresh, and every delay causes loss, 
and the plank is riven from under my feet 
-and I am on the verge of beggary and 
desperation every hour. Why do not you 
sign and give me a chance in life? I signed 
promptly. Why must this damnable extor- 
tion of money for every adjournment, go 
on? Don't you know that your lawyer is 
charging you for every delay? Oh! I am 
crazy for just a few dollars to push my book 
"Delaplaine" into success, and " Delap- 
laine"'is dying-dying! Two years more 
of my life wasted! Oh! on Calvary- 
but do not think the last cry means weak- 
ness; as, by the E 1 G-, in wasting my 
time you have armed me. May 
you. I revoke every promise I made you. 
I do not revoke my legal agreement. I 
stand by it as I do by every honorable 
agreement I ever made. It is your lawyer 
that played me false. This last trick of, 
your lawyer, that it is necessary to make a 
stipulation that I will not break my engage- 
ment is frivolous. Why didn't he think of 
it before? I do not care a ; but put it in 
fifty times if you like; but hurry up, and 
stop this useless waste of money since the 
first day I entered Charles M. Whitney's 
office. Eternal , can't we get it signed? 
He told me the lawyer had put the money 
stipulation into the agreement of his own. 
option; and even Judge Barbour says to me 
that Whitney is a Yankee puppy, making 
out of the misery and patience and agonies 
of others, delay and pay, and to get it be- 
fore the public in the Courts; and I am 
d d sure he is pursuing the course to 
get it there. I agreed with Judge Barbour 
to relinquish all nearly to you but two hun- 
dred dollars, and Whitney never sent the 
agreement to me, according to promise. 
He ia a liar; he never sent it to 
me. Hurry up for sake, 
you. You are a fool. 
July 8, 1871. 
Your lawyer asked another adjournment 
to-day. I cannot hold out longer. The 
pistols are loaded. If you succeed in get- 
ting the $950 from the trust estate of my 
father I shall shoot you, stamp out your life 
with my boot and shoot myself if your 
mother is not near. If she is near I will 
use the second shot on her body and the 
third on myself, behind the ear. Why? 
Murder for $950, you ask? Why? Because 
you robbed me of my young; and now, in 
my miserable agony, on the loss of all that 
makes life tolerable, you remorselessly seek 
to knock from under a despairing wretch 
the last plank on which he c. i ....mc.u I 
went to Judge Barbour's to kill you; that 
door chain alone saved you. Ti you do not 
sign the papers your lawyer says he sent 
you to sign, and which your sickness alone 
prevented you from signing, I shall shoot 
you. You are dealing with a despairing, 
demoniacal murderer, or whatever despair 
makes a man. Sign d n quick. 
July 29, 1871. 
Your lawyer says to my lawyer that on 
Saturday he put a slight modification m the 
articles of agreement which he thought THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
necessary for your protection, and laid 
before you to sign. Is that truth? And is 
the delay solely due to your not signing? 
He says so. Great cannot this thing 
be closed promptly and business like,* and 
the waste of money on the lawyers stopped? 
By the Eternal , 1 cannot be trifled with 
any longer. Sign promptly and business 
like. Why am I so eager? Because I am 
hungry, a:.d stun atlvix Lvglns tuuuicuc 
in the face; and this, added to the agonies 
of my heart, will make me murder you my- 
self. Oh, can't you see it? Won't you 
sign it and make your lawyer close it up 
as quickly as he can? Can't you telegraph 
to him to hurry it up and close the busi- 
ness? lam so hungry and so weak, and 
the pistols for you are lying loaded beside 
me all the time. My book failed to bring 
me money and my efforts to get a situation 
have failed. lam a hungry demon, and am 
longing to lap my tongue in soft blood. 
You are making your grave by the delay. 
But we shall lie so peacefully side by 
side in death. O sweet Death! Sweet 
Death. 
Saturday Night, 
(Supposed to be July, 1871.) 
I have just come from the lawyer's office, 
lie says the agreement has not been signed 
and returned from Saratoga. you. 
Sign it and let me out of the expenses of 
the law. May the expenses of 
the law that are beggaring me! 
you. You are-planning some other evasion 
of your plighted word. Beware of me. 
God damn you. I am dangerous. Listen 
to the murderer's hiss and beware of me! 
You robbed me of my children and you 
■want to rob me of my pittance. I am 
watching you with a hawk's eye and a de- 
spairing heart. Woman, why in God's 
name don't you sign the papers? The pistol 
is lying beside me loaded that will relieve 
me from starvation and hell, and like a flam- 
ing demon I will scatter your brains. I am 
in earnest, you. Do the words 
sound tame on paper? Ilog's , I will 
murder you for depriving me of my sweet, 
darling money. Hist! Hist! Hist! Let 
that ring through your inhuman ears. 
The broken-hearted wretch will drag his 
torturer with him to hell. 
July 28, 1871. 
Again, to-day, I have been to my lawyer. 
He says the papers to be signed by you are 
still in Saratoga. You are delaying, 
of hell. Another adjournment to be 
for and the pennies scarce! The hopeless 
wretch grasps Lis pistol! You take from 
the hopeless author his last hope. Vile 
avaricious W'retch, I grasp the deadly wea- 
pon for both of us. Stand off that property 1 
You robbed me of everything sweet in life 
and of peace, and I want to wreak a dying 
vengancc on you if you do not relinquish 
your grasp on the only thing. 
you, you can appreciate my money. Sign 
the papers you agreed to sign long, long, 
long ago, and I will let you go, , drag- 
ging my heartstrings after you. But let go 
my sweet, darling, precious money. Too 
late I have learned that money is the hope 
of life and that for industrious poverty there 
is no home, no hope, no success in life, no 
love.of children; and I clutch the money 
with a demon's clutch, with a murderer's 
clutch, and I would gladly murder for it 
and die. Sign the papers which you agreed 
to sign, . Ycu have miscalculated 
Mansfield Tracy Walworrh as others have 
done. You will awake to the reality when 
you beggar me and the bullet crashes 
through your skull and through mine. Stand 
off you! I asked you to do noth- 
ing that your lawyers have not stipulated 
for, you, false, cold, demon- 
hearted . 
Monday, 10 a. m. (supposed to be July 7.) 
That same pleading, ever-present deter- 
mination is working me up to the final trag- 
edy. I go down in five minutss to see if 
my lawyer has received and filed the agree- 
ment signed. But my superhuman second 
sight tells me that you have again prevarica- 
ted, and that Chancellor Walworth's young- 
er son must be a murderer and a suicide. So 
be it! I have done all I could to avert it. I 
have waited patiently for weeks. You are 
pushing on your doom. By the Eternal 
, Ellen Hardin, the purpose THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
of three years of your life of abandoning 
me and grasping that property shall be 
thwarted in your blood and mine. If you 
fail the catastrophe comes as sure as fate, 
you. All the intensity of hate in 
my life is centered on you. Listen for the 
crack of the pistolI 
Publication House Carleton & Co. 
August 27 \ 
Sign this paper and I will trouble no fur- 
ther. The devil says to me, you fool, she 
wants to beggar you; she wants two-thirds 
since her father died; she has kicked you 
out like a dog; she does not care a groat 
whether you succeed or not; she means to 
torment you about that property, because she 
is a woman-a thief and a traitress. 
Now sign this paper, and I will try to bring 
this tortured brain once more down to lite- 
rary work. My lawyer says, She will never 
sign anything that you want her to, because 
she gloats in torturing you. you, Ellen 
Hardin. It is in me to succeed at books if 
you leave me alone and take the apprehen- 
sion of lawsuits from me. Sign this paper 
or a tortured author will kill you, by . 
Why did you make me give up my children 
to you and njake no fight for them? Because 
I thought the trust property would be left to 
me and that I could succeed as an au- 
thor. My lawyer says, she says I am 
a fool; that she hates me; that you say 
you will do nothing that I want you to do 
just to keep you uneasy, and that your brain 
cannot bend to literary work; she knows 
that if you succeed her affidavits must be 
perjuries before the world. Now, sign this 
paper, or I will murder you. I do not be- 
lieve in any God, but I believe there is a devil, 
and that devil is you. Why, in the name 
of common sense, after you robbed me of 
the sweetness of life, do you not leave me 
in undistubed possession of the property, so 
that I can stay in New York and work ? Here 
industry accomplishes wonders, even in the 
mere profession of authorship. Sign this 
paper as a guarantee. What did Whitney 
mean when he said there would be more 
trouble about the property-that the Har- 
dins' pride will not allow them to contend 
about this little property? In the name of 
God, when I gave you my children for 
money, am I not allowed to live in peace, 
when I would sell my soul for it? Oh, 
money is as sweet to the Hardins as any- 
body else; but there is not one of them 
who has courage to murder for money as I 
have, and I will if I am not left in peace 
with this two-thirds; for when that goes 
my last plank of ambition will be taken 
from under me and I will murder. So hard, 
so hard is an author's fate. 
agreement which he wanted signed.') 
" I promise before God to abstain against 
all law suits or take any of the property. I 
am satisfied with one-third which he has 
relinquished for my relief. I know he has 
hell enough to carry on his n rind from re- 
morseless children, without my crippling 
him by law suits for more money. Sign this 
paper to give me mental rest, necessay for 
literary work. I will not approach his trust 
again or enter any court so long as I receive 
one-third trust property." 
The reading of the letters continued from 
about half-past two o'clock until ten min- 
utes past five o'clock in the afternoon. They 
were all of the same ribald, blasphemous 
tenor, some of them absolutely surpassing 
belief. The court room was as still as death. 
Every voice was hushed but that of the great 
old lawyer, and as his clear, emphatic tones 
rang through the corridors outside, every 
heart was stilled with horror. One letter 
was addressed to Judge Barbour, threatening 
him that he would shoot him in the public 
street and fall a suicide over his body if he 
interfered between his wife and himself, and 
if his property was not restored to him. 
Another was addressed to Father Clar- 
ence Walworth, announcing that he inten- 
ded to kill him if he egged his wife on 
against him, and saying that he would spit 
upon the religion which could make a saint 
out of such a as him. In some were 
found bullets and caps, and inothers powder. 
In one was found an extract from a news- 
paper, in which the foul murder of a wife, 
by a husband was described, and this he IL 
kened to the tragedy which was impending 
over her. 
One addressed to his sister, Mrs. Backus, THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
threatened herself and her family with death 
if $200 of property, which he said was kept 
from him, was not restored to him. lie said 
the book trade was G-d d-d bad, and 
that $200 Would have got him circulars, and 
he could have made a success of his book 
and made hundreds of dollars. 
Another to Mrs. Backus was as follows: 
My Dear Sister : I have conceived the 
great secret of my existence. I was not 
born as men are, but was let down from 
heaven in a basket. All who have pre- 
ceded me are imposters. I am the true 
Messiah. It will cause a great commotion 
on the earth when I am summoned, for I 
shall be a soldier-king, and have in heaven 
-the home of my Father-God. * * * 
You, of course, are not morally my sister, 
but during our terrestrial intercourse you 
have manifested such kindness for me that 
I shall make you one of the queens of the 
earth. * * * Keep this secret until I 
am announced by the sound of 10,000 trum- 
pets, then fall down and worship me, for I 
am M. T. Walworth, the true and eternal 
son of God. 
And so the letter runs on like the ravings 
of an excited maniac. 
At the conclusion of the reading of the 
letters, the Court adjourned till Monday 
On Monday morning, June 30, the Court 
met at ten o'clock. The proceedings were 
delayed some time by the absence of one of 
the jurors. Immediately after the Court 
met, the prisoner, accompanied by his 
mother, uncle and a number of other rela- 
tives, was brought in, and counsel for and 
against him appeared in their scats. The 
court room was at once filled. The priso- 
ner's uncles, aunts and numerous relatives 
gathered around him and almost screened 
him from view of the curious. Next him 
sat his mother, dressed in deep mourning, 
With a face of Parian marble in its beauty 
• and coldness, and the two held whispered 
/ 'converse all through the long wait for the 
juror. No anxiety was visible in the coun- 
tenance of either. Sometimes a ripple of a 
smile would cross the countenances of both, 
and again a sudden look of intense affection 
would ilRiminc the eyes of each and be 
gone. 
At 10:40 the juror, Mr. Chamberlain, was 
still absent. Justice Davis asked the other 
jurors if they knew any reason for his ab- 
sence. The foreman replied that Mr. Cham- 
berlain went to Milburn, N. J., on Saturday. 
He promised to return at 10:15 to-day. 
Almost immediately after Justice Davis 
received a dispatch, as follows: 
Turner's Station, N. J., June 30. 
Train broke down. Will be two hours 
late. J. Ak C. 
A recess was then taken till one o'clock. 
At half past one all the jurors were in 
their seats, and the trial was continued by 
recalling Mrs. Walworth to the witness 
stand. 
Mr. O'Conor repeated the question of a 
former day as to acts of violence t<* denote 
insanity, and the witness continued:-In 
the summer of 1805 I was spending a few 
days at Saratoga and had been on very 
pleasant terms with Mr. Walworth; one 
evening at that time I went out with Chan- 
cellor Walworth and two friends; we visit- 
ed one of the hotels, staying for a short 
time and returning about ten o'clock; on 
my return I found that he was in the room 
and that he had the door locked; after 
knocking a couple of times he opened the 
door; he looked with fury at me. and with 
a terrible oath exclaimed, "I will show you 
how you will leave me of an evening 
again"; he siezed me by the arm and shook 
me with great violence; he pushed me 
against the furniture and literally tore the 
clothes from my back; when I took up my 
infant to leave the room he commanded me 
in the most threatening manner to lay it 
down again and myself; in an hour or two 
he fell asleep and I escaped from the room. 
He had been in the habit of acting in a 
very violent manner for a great many years. 
Q. After this occurrence in 1805 -just 
detailed by you, state any further subse- 
quent acts that recur to you. A. In the 
summer of 1869, when my sister had sent 
me some clothing and other presents of 
various kinds for the children, without any 
previous signs of displeasure, he arose sud- " The young man delivered to the Sergeant a small Colt's five-shooter, with 
four of the barrels discharged-'That,' said he, 'is the pistol I 
shot him with.' "-See Page 22. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
denly in the night, and swore at his sister 
in a most violent manner and commenced 
to search the house for the articles and 
destroyed them; at that time his appear- 
ance was very remarkable, as were also his 
words and gestures. 
Q. State as well as you can the nature 
and character of his appearance when he 
was enraged. A. He was always extremely 
pale and had the look of a wild beast; I 
cannot imagine any other expression like 
it. 
Q. State any other instances of this vio- 
lent conduct or variety of acts which you 
then observed. A. At another time, about 
nine o'clock, after spending a quiet even- 
ing, he came to my room door, and as I 
opened the door I saw that he wore the 
same terrible expression, and, with both 
arms uplifted, he uttered those fearful ex- 
clamations, "Hardin shall not rob me of 
my wife and children," although we had 
not seen my brother for a long time pre- 
viously ; he then struck me violently, and 
raised me in his arms in ti e most violent 
manner and threw me on the bed, where I 
lay for some time unconscious; on another 
occasion he suddenly sprung on me and 
struck me. 
Q. And all this was done suddenly and 
without previous cause of excitement? A. 
Yes. 
Q. So that his acts on these occasions 
were altogether unaccountable to you? A. 
They were. 
Q. Was his violence on these occasions 
great and serious? A. Yes, sir, they w'ere 
great and serious. 
Q. And you stated that these acts w'ere 
always accompanied yith oaths? A. Yes, 
sir, they were. 
Q. Can you state any particular instance 
to present any different illustration that 
appears to you that might account for those 
acts? A. At the time of his father's death 
he was subject repeatedly, perhaps every 
day, to these violent furies, in which he 
would abuse his father and brother; he did 
not expend all his fury on me; he would 
strike the furniture and break it with what- 
ever he might seize in his hand; he did this 
very frequently after his father's death. 
Q. On any of these occasions of this 
peculiar conduct did you receive any such 
violence as the use of his teeth upon you! 
A. Yes, in my finger; he bit my finger 
severely. 
Q. I observe that in those letters which 
Mr. Walworth addressed to you to several 
of them are no signatures. Do you know 
any reason for that? Was that a habit of 
his? A. It was not his habit when he 
wrote ordinary business letters. 
Q. What was his condition as to strength 
and height; what sort of a man was he 
physically? A. He was five feet eleven; an 
unusually robust man; in the habit of exer- 
cising himself by long walks; he used the 
dumb bells as long as I knew him. 
Cross-examined by Mr. Phelps-How long 
prior to your leaving him was the last act 
of violence? A. About ten days; after that 
I was ill. 
Q. Was he aware of your intention to 
depart before you left him? A. lie was 
not. 
Q. After the act of violence which oc- 
curred ten days before you left the house, 
had you any interview with him? A. He 
came to my room; but never without some 
one being there. 
Q. At what time did you leave the house? 
A. In the morning, about ten o'clock. 
Q. I understood you to say that from 
that time you never saw him? A. I did 
not see him again. 
Q. Have you any means of determining 
in a general way the letters which you re-> 
ceived from him and know the contents of 
and those which were since shown you? 
A. Yes; I think I can distinguish between 
them. 
Q. Can you discriminate between all these 
letters as between those you first saw and 
those afterwards shown to you? A. There 
might be a few I could not point out, but 
as a general thing I would know them all. 
Q. What wras the last letter you received? 
A. The letter I received 7th August, 1872. 
Q. Did you understand that the letters 
produced in Court and read here were all THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Xhe letters received? A. Not quite all; Mr. 
O'Conor has some more. 
Q. Did you answer any cf those letters? 
A. I did not; I wrote one letter about two 
or three weeks, perhaps, after I left him; I 
submitted it to a friend-my lawyer; that 
letter was given to him, I understand; I 
never sent him a line after that. 
Q. With the exception of that letter 
which was submitted by you to a lawyer 
before sending it you have had no commu- 
nication with him of any description since 
the separation? A. None at all; he may 
have had messages from my lawyer. 
Q. You communicated nothing directly 
with Mr. Walworth? A. Nothing in any 
wry. 
Q. The letter dated September, 1872, did 
you receive that? A. No. • 
Q. Have you seen any letters later than 
August? A. I don't think I have. 
The witness then left the stand. 
Two packages of letters were handed to 
her, which she examined at the table beside 
which she sat, on the immediate right of 
the prisoner. After a brief examination of 
the letters contained in these packages she 
handed the packages back to Mr. O'Conor, 
with the letters withdrawn from them 
which she herself had received. 
An entry was here made on the minutes 
that the District Attorney had withdrawn 
his objection.to the reading of any letters, 
and that there was no exception in reference 
thereto. 
Q. By Mr. O'Conoi -Are those all you 
received and read prior to the first of June? 
A. Yes; I think that is all. 
Q. You stated that some of those letters 
found in Frank's secretary were unopened? 
A. No; it was some of those that were 
handed to me that were unopened; this was 
seven or eight months after the separation; 
at that time there was a package of letters 
handed to me, and among these were those 
unopened ones. 
Q. What letters were those that were 
unopened? A. I think they were generally 
those which contained powder and balls. 
Lemuel S. Hardin, uncle to the prisoner, 
was next put upon the stand. He testified: 
-I am a son of Colonel Hardin and a broth' 
er of Mrs. Walworth; I live at Louisville, 
Ky.; I lived with my sister in Kentucky 
from 1861, while she was there and her 
husband was away; I have known Frank 
all his life; I spent my vacations in Sarato- 
ga with the Chancellor; I think Frank is the 
best boy I ever knew; his devotion to his 
mother was perfect; I never heard him 
speak ill of his father; never heard anyone 
speak ill of him. 
To Mr. Phelps-I never saw him angry; 
he was fond of sports and cheerful, but not 
demonstrative, he had a fund of humor in 
him; he was never irritable or irritated? he 
was better tempered than myself; he was in 
my office six months about tw o years agoi 
can't fix it nearer; it was before the separa- 
tion, at least before I heard of it; I heard 
Frank was with his mother when that oc- 
curred. 
To the Court-I was opposed to his read- 
ing law, he was so young, but he seemed 
so settled and so little disposed to frolic 
that I assented. 
Gen. Martin B. Hardin, another uncle of 
the prisoner, testified:-Is a brother of Mrs. 
Walworth; was stopping at the Hoffman 
House, in New York, at or about the time 
at which his sister finally separated from her 
husband. 
Q. What was your condition as to health 
at that time? A. I had been invalided for 
some years, partly on account of wounds 
and partly from disease contracted in the 
army; at that time I had not entirely recov- 
ered from my wounds, nor have I yet; I 
was suffering from severe wounds, as well 
as having lost an arm; I was, in fact, hard- 
ly able to go about at the time, and it was 
only excitement that kept me up. 
Q. Did you receive a visit from Mr. Wal- 
worth while you were at the Hoffman House? 
A. I did. 
Q. At what hour of the day or night was 
it? A. It was about four o'clock in the 
morning; I was asleep at the time. 
Q. Was there any one else in the room 
with you at the time? A. Yes; there was 
a lawyer there, writing. 
Q. Drawing up papers for the purpose of THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
beginning the divorce case! A. A es; we 
had been engaged with them through the 
night; I went to bed about two o'clock; was 
asleep when I was awakened. 
Q. By what were you awakened? A. By 
a violent knocking at the door. 
Q. What then happened? A. The lawyer 
jumped up and opened the door; W alworth 
came in and walked quietly up to the foot 
of my bed; he kept his hand by his side; I 
was still lying in bed; watched him close- 
ly; he asked me, "Where is my wife?" he 
kept questioning me; told him to keep 
quiet and allow me to dress; he was very 
much excited; I arose and was putting on 
my pants, still keeping my eye on him 
closely; I suddenly jumped towards the 
door and drew it after me; he pursued and 
forced the door open; he had his pistol in 
his hand; he presented it at me, but I es- 
caped behind a double arch that was in the 
hall; people then came rushing to the spot; 
the lawyer had rung the bell and this gather- 
ed them; in a few seconds a policeman came 
and arrested him. 
Charles L. Pond testified that he was a stu- 
dent of Union College, Schenectady; was an 
intimate friend of the prisoner; for the last 
year and a half he had noticed a great 
change in his manner, and he became 
morose and moody; he on one occasion 
called out loudly in his sleep, and when 
witness went to see what was the matter he 
found him sleeping heavily; witness had 
also noticed his pillow wet in the morning 
with a rusty stain; the prisoner, Wally 
Barbour, his cousin, and the witness had, 
in April last, started for a walk; they had 
gone but a short distance when the prisoner 
suddenly attacked him and threw him down; 
upon asking what he meant Frank made no 
answer, did not even look at his questioner, 
and soon after wanted him to take tea with 
him; he never made any allusion to his 
strange conduct and acted as if he was not 
aware of what he had done; witness was 
with him on the Sunday previous to the 
shooting, when he acted as if he was sick; 
they had made arrangements for an excur- 
sion to the woods to procure some flowers; 
he went part of the way, gathered one or 
two and then went home, witness and 
Wally Barbour continuing; when they re- 
turned they found him asleep; the next 
morning he told them he might go away on 
Monday. 
Walworth Barbour testified-Resides at 
Saratoga; is second cousin to Frank; have 
known him almost all his life; knew his 
general character in the neighborhood and 
among his friends as being very good; never 
heard a word against him; heard the testi- 
mony given by the previous witness, Mr. 
Pond; it was correct so far as he remem- 
bered all the circumstances. 
Jfr. Smith, a resident of Saratoga, testi- 
fied:-On Sunday the 1st of June, Frank 
and Mr. Pond called at my place; we talked 
about various things; finally Frank asked 
me to let him have some money, that he was 
going away on the next day and would be 
back on Tuesday; I told him I had no mon- 
ey with me, but if he came to my store on 
Monday morning I would give him some; 
he came on Monday, and I gave him $15; 
he said he would be home on Tuesday and 
make it all right with me; the fare from 
Saratoga to New York is four dollars and a 
half. 
Augustus Von Belleau, recalled-When 
first he knew Frank he was studious and 
capable, but latterly he seemed not to lose 
his capacity, but his memory; he learned 
German with witness, and he spoke it pret- 
ty well and wrote it with ease; words that 
he learned and remembered in his earlier 
studies he had forgotten, as if he had never 
learned them; latterly, instead of his usual 
cheerfuT manner, he became gloomy and 
morose; sometimes it was painful to see 
him; he would complain of great weariness 
and be long in bed; his face would flush 
and suddenly turn pale, and a strange rat- 
tle was in his throat. 
JFwii/M Roach was housekeeper for the 
Walworths in Saratoga; knew Frank well; 
the morning after he had gone she noticed 
bad stains on the pillow, blood stains; 
heard screams from his room during the 
night; had observed these stains many times 
before that, during winter and spring, and 
had heard him scream two or three times THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
before; his appearance was very strange 
sometimes, very pale and forgetful; he'd 
travel around the room and around the 
yard as if he was lost entirely and ready to 
drop away; he'd come down to relock 
the doors as late as tw'elve o'clock; 
he was the only male in the house except 
Tracy. 
To Mr. Phelps-He would come down at 
midnight and unlock and then relock the 
house; in my room I could tell his move- 
ments; sometimes he'd go out; he would 
do this nearly every night; once in a while 
he'd go out; sometimes he looked frighten- 
ed ; he'd walk fast; Saturday evening be- 
fore he left home noticed this. 
Joseph 17. Hill, recalled-Has known 
Frank for over a year; when he first came 
to his law office he was studious, but soon 
observed something that made him believe 
Frank had something absorbing on his 
mind; he wouldn't converse as usual, and 
made no progress in his studies: these hab- 
its continued, until he w ould come to the 
office and notice nobody, sitting there unoc- 
cupied for twro hours, and then leaving; he 
complained of being languid and sick. 
Dorothy Smith (colored)-Had been ser- 
vant of the family all her life; knew Frank 
since he was born; when he was seven or 
eight years old he fell from a car and was 
hurt back of his head, it was bleeding; 
last summer his pillow's where he had slept 
over night wrere stained a kind of brownish 
yellow7; seen them three different times; 
used to hear him scream in his sleep; in 
1862 he laid for tw7o days with a sort of 
headache, and then had convulsions, froth- 
ing at the mouth; had been fishing and 
thought it might be the sun; the day before 
the Southern tournament in Saratoga, in 
August, he was sick again and I found him 
in convulsions; I bathed him with warm 
water; don't know7 if it was the effect of 
the sun. 
Thomas IF. Todd said-I reside at Syra- 
cuse; I knew7 the prisoner in 1870; he was 
playing a game at ball; Frank became in- 
sensible for half an hour, but no one else 
did; the next day he was languid; he hurt 
his nose and his forehead. 
John L. Barbour said he had known Mans-, 
field Tracy Walworth; in 1861 or 18621 saw 
him put on a Confederate uniform, and he 
said that he held a commission in the Con- 
federate army; this was at the time Wal- 
worth was in Washington; I told the Sec- 
retary of State, and on subsequent inquiry 
I found that the story was not true; I flunk 
he said he was a captain in the army; he 
told me at the time he was in the employ of 
Colonel Stuart; I know Frank Walworth; I 
have observed that he has appeared very 
moody and occupied; I have frequently met 
him on the sidewalk and he has never no- 
ticed me; I have noticed that his face was 
peculiarly pale and there were twitchings 
of his face. 
Dr. Charles S. Grant testified-I reside at 
Saratoga Springs; am a physician and sur- 
geon ; had known the prisoner for several 
years, and his character generally was 
good. 
By ex-Judge Garvin-During the years 
you have known Frank Walworth have you 
noticed any change in him? 
Witness-I noticed a decided change in 
him six or seven months ago; he came to 
my office in the afternoon; he was in the 
habit of coming there once or twice a week 
to play billiards; I asked him to go up- 
stairs; we went up and he sat by the win- 
dow ; he looked out and looked up; I said 
to him, "Have you tired yourself out so 
quickly?" he made no reply; I took off my 
coat and took up my cue; he went to the 
table and put the white balls w here red 
balls should go; just before striking the 
red balls he noticed his mistake and said 
that was not the W'ay to begin a game; he 
then placed his balls properly and played 
half an hour or so; I noticed that he had a 
peculiar appearance for a day or tw7o after- 
wards; the second time I noticed any pecu- 
liarity was when he called one evening and 
w'e played; I said to him it was his turn to 
play; he made no remark, and I said to him 
again, ' ' Frank, it is your turn to play;" he 
spoke in a sharp unnatural voice and said, 
"lie was ready;" he sprang up from his 
seat and struck the balls with great force; 
the stroke counted, but instead of playing THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
the ball again he struck one of the red balls 
so hard that it dropped on the floor, and 
instantly he dropped into the chair; 
his face twitched violently; he was breath- 
ing very heavily and he was snoring; I sat 
by his side and said, "Frank, what ails 
you?" he made no reply, but made an effort 
to open his eyes; I think he raised his head 
■and repeated my question in a listless voice; 
after three or four seconds he put on his 
coat; 1 asked him where he was going; he 
said he was going home; he also said it was 
near six o'clock and he promised to be home 
at six; I asked him if he would not stay 
and finish the game; he said, "No, he had 
to be home at six o'clock;" at the same time 
he began to take off his coat; this was 
about five or six o'clock; I did not notice 
any decided symptoms of change until five 
or six weeks ago; he got into a carriage to 
ride with me; we were talking about ty- 
phoid fever; after several minutes had passed 
and he did not make any remark, I looked 
at him and saw he was staring right ahead, 
and his face was livid; I said to him, 
"Frank, arc you sick?" he did not say any- 
thing but continued to stare; I then put 
my hand on his shoulder and said, "Frank, 
are you sick?" he did not say anything, but 
continued to stare; he then gave me a wild 
look, and said, "How far is it to the 
springs?" I then said to him, "Frank, what 
is it you complain of?" he then repeated, 
again and again, the word " fruit," "fruit;" 
his arm was very rigid and his muscle re- 
laxed ; be said, ' ' Did you think I was going 
to fruit?" I said, "You acted so strangely I 
did not know what to think of it;" I asked 
him what he meant when he was going to 
strike me; he put his hand up to his head 
and said he could not conceive any reason 
why he should strike me. 
Q. Will you please state in a general way 
what these things indicate? A. To my mind 
they indicate epilepsy. 
Q. How does the condition called epil- 
ipsey affect the mind? A. It produces un- 
consciousness and mental irresponsibility. 
Q. What is called epileptic mania? A. 
Yes. 
Q. Under the influence of epileptic mania 
is there consciousness or will? A. Not 
when fully under the influence of the 
mania. 
To District Attorney Phelps-Have had 
between thirty and forty cases of epilepsy 
under my charge. Was stationed in the 
Albany Insane Asylum atone time, and had 
many cases there. 
The court then adjourned. 
After the opening of the Cojirt on Tues- 
day morning, the first witness called was 
Dr. John B. Gray, who testified-I have 
resided at Utica since 1850; have been a 
physician for twenty-five years, connected 
with the New York State Lunatic Asylum; 
am familiar with the epileptic condition; it 
is a disease of the brain and spinal cord, 
manifested by periods of unconsciousness 
and spasms; its causes are various, constitu- 
tional or hereditary, falls and blows, a 
shock, mental or physical, long continued 
distress, and generally things calculated to 
disturb the circulation. 
Q. To come down to our case, "Is epil- 
epsy always accompanied by spasms?" A. 
Yes, but not such as are evident; a spasm 
may occur perceptible to a person having'' 
his hand on the patient so that he perceives 
the tremor, while to anyone else it would 
be imperceptible; a condition of rigidity, 
often preceded by a cry, is the first symp- 
tom ; there is pallor, followed by redness of 
the face, a swelling of the chest, and after 
that the patient usually falls into a sleep; 
that is rather the spinal form; an apparent- 
ly milder form involves the brain, and the 
symptom is only a slight shiver; either 
form, with more or less speed, impairs the 
whole mental power; the progress of the 
diseaseis manifested sometimes by a lassi- 
tude of mind; sometimes by irascibility; its 
most marked symptom is a change in some 
direction; sometimes it manifests itself by 
sudden maniacal raving, more than attends 
other forms of insanity; sometimes by mere 
bewilderment and hesitation; the mind be- 
comes impaired and the will with it; the 
will is practically in subjection. 
Q. Take the case of a man who screams 
out in his sleep, and a little while after is 
found snoring, and at times froths at the THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Mr. Phelps here detailed the statement 
of the prisoner after the shooting, as to the 
affair, and asked whether the recollection 
of the events by the prisoner would affect 
the doctor's judgment as to the prisoner's 
epileptic condition. The doctor stated 
that the recollection of the events would not 
alter the doctor's opinion as to the prison- 
er's epileptic condition, but added that 
there was hardly sufficient data from his 
statements as given to decide whether he 
had that morning an epileptic seizure. 
To a Juror-These attacks cover a period 
of time, though within the period or circle 
of the attack minor attacks may occur. 
To the Court-The disease is not exactly 
periodical; it is rarely curable; in cases of 
simple convulsive epilepsy the physical con- 
dition sometimes is perfect. 
To Mr. Phelps-I have known persons 
with epilepsy who still conducted with 
ability the ordinary business of life; Ca?sar 
and Mahomet are said to have been epilep- 
tics, and Napoleon, Alexander and some 
other distinguished men are said to have 
had epileptic attacks; the rule is, however, 
that mental degradation sets in; it is the 
cerebral epilepsy, or petit mat, which I con- 
sider the most liable to become incurable; 
there is a certain periodicity in the recur- 
rence of the attack, but an exciting cause 
may bring it on at any time; as a rule, the 
epileptic rage is directed to all alike, but I 
have known cases where it was directed at 
a particular individual. 
Dr. Gray was examined by Mr. Beach, 
and testified further-I spoke of an attack 
lasting two or three days; the fit I meant 
would only last a very brief time, but the 
epileptic condition might remain a longer 
time, during which he would seem to be in 
a rational condition, yet really his mind is 
wholly under the epileptic influence; he 
may do certain things in an apparently ra- 
tional manner, yet the epileptic condition, 
with its violent tendencies, continues; or- 
dinarily the fit is terminated by a healthy 
normal sleep; some of the books state epil- 
eptic attacks which were accompanied by 
distinct memory of what occurred in them; 
in my own practice I have found some who 
mouth, what would you say of it? A. I 
would say that it indicated an epileptic 
seizure; other symptoms that may occur 
are spots on the face or the surface, indicat- 
ing extravasation of blood; the dangerous 
period is not during the rigidity, but before 
or after; the effect of waking up a person 
subject to epilepsy two or three hours be- 
fore his usual hour would be likely to bring 
on a fit; in fact, nocturnal epilepsy is apt to 
come on a little while before the waking 
hour; epileptic diseases might well exist 
without friends recognizing them. 
The witness here gave details of general 
cases, and then said, in answer to questions 
by Mr. Phelps: 
The leading symptoms in this case denot- 
ing mental impairment arc the facts of his 
failure as a law student and his forgetful- 
ness of German phrases which he had before 
familiarly used; the physical symptoms arc 
inconsistent with hysteria; I did not say 
that the shooting of the father occurred dur- 
ing an epileptic attack; I said that he was 
liable at any moment to such an attack; 
epileptic attacks arc, so far as we can see, 
unpremeditated and causeless; in seme 
cases, where epilepsy seizures occur but 
once or twice in a lifetime, especially after 
maturity, there is no notable change in the 
general mental condition, but as a rule there 
is a change; where the attacks are at inter- 
vals the patient is usually capable, in the 
intervals, of carrying on his ordinary busi- 
ness, but there is ordinarily gradual deteri- 
oration, ending in dementia; in some cases 
there arc no symptoms preceding an epilep- 
tic seizure, but sometimes there is head- 
ache, restlcssnes er constipation, and in 
rare instances a precedent maniacal out- 
break; in cases of petit mal, the apparently 
milder form, which is very brief, passing 
off in a few seconds, there is often drowsi- 
ness, bewilderment or wildness; they do 
not remember what occurs during the 
seizure, but sometimes have an indistinct 
memory of what occurred during the later 
epileptic stage; I have known cases where 
the memory of a number of days was cut 
out, though I •have supposed they were, 
during that period, cognizant of their acts. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
could remember, but could not determine 
whether they spoke from memory or from 
the information of others. 
The defence here closed. 
The prosecution called,. in rebuttal, 
Francis S. Street, of the New York Weekly, 
who testified that deceased was well known 
to him foraycar; he was waiting for that 
paper; he was very affable, agreeable, cour- 
teous and cheerful; he was very quiet and 
gentlemanly; I never saw any violence or 
eccentricity; I knew he had a family; he 
never alluded to it but on one occasion; I 
showed him an article in the Tribune com- 
plimenting his wife's readings at Saratoga: 
he smiled and was pleased, and asked me 
to give him the article ; I never saw on him 
any sign of liquor; I never heard him use 
profane oaths. 
To Mr. O'Conor-I saw' him in all at our 
office from twelve to twenty times; he 
came to our paper to offer his productions; 
We paid him for one serial during the year 
$1,000; we were arranging with him for a 
Second; he was to come down on that 
Tuesday to arrange terms; he was always 
neatly and properly dressed; he looked like 
a quiet gentleman, and not a hungry author; 
I published some placards containing this- 
"Let Tracy Walworth speak for himself;" 
they were pasted up so that people could 
read them; I believe we published an edi- 
torial denying the truth of the stories against 
him. 
John Lary, a restaurant keeper, testified 
tnat Mr. Wahvorth for two or three years 
got his meals there; he spoke with pride of 
his father; he never swore; he never drank 
but once at witness' bar; he was always 
gentlemanly; he W'as generally cheerful; 
witness heard from another party that he 
W'as a married man; witness never saw him 
show a pistol or be engaged in a quarrel; he 
generally took three meals a day at witness' 
restaurant. 
Henry Ackerman, a barber, testified that he 
had known Mr. Walworth four years; he 
w'as commonly shaved by w'itness, and 
when w'itness became sick he came and in- 
quired for him and brought him grapes and 
fruits; he w'as a gentleman from the top to 
the foot; he never got angry; witness taught 
him German; he never was profane; he be- 
longed to their singing society, and was a 
pretty regular' attendant; I saw he had some 
kind of feeling in his heart, but I was 
ashamed to ask him; I never saw him have 
any drink except maybe a glass of lager 
beer, as any gentleman might; I never saw 
him intoxicated; I never saw him have a 
pistol; our society was the New York 
Msennerchor; I saw' him last at eleven 
o'clock on Monday night, before he was 
shot. 
Ilerrnian Bettgeman, grocer, testified that 
the deceased visited his store once or twice 
a -week for the last two years; his demeanor 
was not cheerful, but quiet, not violent; he 
never heard him utter violent oaths; never 
saw anything odd about him. 
To Mr. O'Conor-He came to me for 
groceries, butter, cheese, eggs, cigars and 
sometimes a bottle or two of wine; once or 
twice a bottle of brandy; sometimes he took 
them away, sometimes we sent them; I sup- 
pose he bought other groceries; he kept a 
monthly account, which he paid promptly 
at the end of the month; it ran from $8 to 
$17 a month; when his family lived there it 
ran from $70 to $90. 
Theodore Barner, Superintendent of Sta- 
tion II, of the Post Office, testified that he 
knew Mr. Walworth, and his manner was 
always that of a high-bred gentleman; he 
wTas cheerful and inclined to talk; the only 
one of his family he ever mentioned was Iris 
father. 
The District Attorney offered in evidence 
Mr. Walworth's book, "Beverly." 
Mr. Beach objected to it as incompetent. 
Mr. Phelps said he offered it to show' the 
sanity of the deceased. 
Mr. O'Conor said the substance of these 
letters was contained in this book. 
Mr. Justice Davis-Yes, he had followed 
these letters substantially in the book, ex- 
cept the blasphemy and obscenity. 
The book was excluded. 
Dr. Ralph L. Parsons, physician for many 
years in the New York City Lunatic Asy- 
lum, testified:-Epilepsy is characterized by 
loss of consciousness; it is usually a eon- THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
vulsive affection, and is sometimes connect- 
ed with a change of mental condition; it 
frequently exists without mental dis- 
turbance as to amount to insanity; I am in- 
clined to think it is almost always accom- 
panied with a certain degree of irritability; 
the paroxysms have a sort of periodicity, 
varying within certain limits for each indi- 
vidual and varying with each individual; 
there is a portion of the epileptic attack of 
which the patient is wholly unconscious, 
but there is a condition of epileptic mania 
of which frequently the patient has some 
memory. 
Mr. Pholps here presented a hypothetical 
(question, stating the facts of the separation 
-of the prisoner's father and mother, his care 
of his mother, his receipt of his father's 
letters, the last letter received, the offer to 
gp to Europe, the prisoner's letter to his 
uncle announcing his intention to see his 
father, tho arrangements of Sunday, the 
visit to New York and the circumstances 
connected withit; the occurrences on Tucs- 
« day morning as detailed by the evidence, 
including the prisoner's subsequent acts, 
and asked-From them what is your opinion 
as to the condition of the prisoner's mind and 
whether he was conscious of the character 
of the act he was doing? A. I see no rea- 
son from the whole question as put to in- 
duce me to believe that he was laboring 
under an attack of epileptic mania ; knowl- 
edge that he had previously shown epileptic 
symptoms would not change my view; I 
should require further evidence of the char- 
acter of the act itself. 
To Mr. Beach-If I knew that the man 
was epileptic I should be more careful to 
inquire into the evidences of aberration of 
mind at the time; from the evidence as 
given I should not conclude that the act 
was epileptic or one of epileptic mania; 
assuming that he had an attack of epilepsy 
on Sunday, he might have renewed attacks 
on Monday and Tuesday; I have seen cases 
of epilepsy where I saw no evidence of ex- 
citement or irritability; I believe no case 
occurs without some effect on the mind 
after the paroxysm has passed; strong con- 
tinued emotion may produce epilepsy where 
there is some predisposition, not otherwise; 
I cannot tell in what that predisposion con- 
sists, but a hereditary tendency often con- 
firms us in our view of predisposition; I 
give a considerable degree of significance to 
the prisoner's statement, as evincing a mem- 
ory of the transaction; his statement of the 
shooting showed he was conscious of the 
shooting. 
Dr. Abner Otis Kellogg was next called 
and testified-I am at present connected 
with the Hudson River State Lunatic Hos- 
pital at Poughkeepsie, but before that was 
at the State Lunatic Asylum at Utica; I 
heard the question put to Dr. Parsons; there 
is no evidence in it to convince me that at 
the immediate time of the homicide he was 
in an epileptic condition; epileptics may be 
conscious or unconscious; there is a mental 
deterioration generally going on gradually 
and leading ultimately to entire failure of 
mind. 
Dr. Meredith Clymer defined epilepsy as a 
nervous disorder characterized by loss of 
consciousness and convulsive movements of 
the muscles; there were three varieties of it, 
which he described at some length with 
their symptoms; irritability of temper com- 
monly preceded or succeeded the fits-per- 
verseness, a tendency to explosive anger, a 
change of temper; one or more of these was 
common; a person might be subject to epi- 
leptic attacks without being subject to epi- 
leptic mania or insanity; epileptic mania is 
simply mania arising in an epileptic; he 
may have his mind disordered without be- 
ing maniacal. 
Dr. Clymer further said that he saw noth- 
ing in the hypothetical question of the Dis- 
trict Attorney that would make him think 
the accused was or was not epileptic at the 
time of the shooting; he had no data to go 
by; there was nothing in the evidence that 
would induce him to believe that he was in 
an epileptic condition at the time; he knew 
of cases when* the patient's memory was | 
clear as to the circumstances of his attack. 
This concluded all the evidence in the 
case, and Mr. O'Conor commenced his ad- 
dress to the jury for the defence. At the 
conclusion of his eloquent appeal Judge THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Davis cautioned the jury not to speak of 
this matter among themselves. He was in 
doubt as to whether he should allow them 
to separate; but counsel on both sides had 
confidence in their integrity, and would al- 
low them now to separate. He hoped they 
would not read the papers, and said the 
press had departed from the plain dictates 
of common decency in commenting on this 
case. 
The Court then adjourned. 
At the opening of the Court, on Wednes- 
day morning, the prisoner took his place 
accompanied, as usual, by his mother and 
relatives, and District Attorney Phelps com- 
menced his summing up for the common- 
wealth. All listened with the deepest at- 
tention to the speech of Mr. Phelps, the 
mother's clear brows sometimes knitting 
together with anxiety at his denunciation 
of her son and his argument to show pre- 
meditation. The prisoner sat all through 
the speech with his head bent earnestly for- 
ward, his eyes steadily turned on the 
speaker and his lips slightly apart. At the 
District Attorney's description of the scene 
in the room of the Sturtevant House he 
turned inquiringly towards the jurors, as if 
to invite by his appealing look the mercy 
which the District Attorney was warning 
them against. At the conclusion of Mr. 
Phelps' address, Mr. O'Conor requested the 
Court to charge as follows: 
That under the evidence the prisoner can- 
not be found guilty unless there was in his 
mind a deliberate and premeditated pur- 
pose to kill, not a mere intent. 
That the law requires a deliberate deter- 
mination to kill in cold blood, and not a 
mere sudden passion. 
That the facts do not show a deliberation 
or intention. 
That if the prisoner knew deceased to be 
a desperate man it militated against the 
theory of murder in the first degree. 
That if he acted under terror he was not 
guilty of murder in the second degree. 
That if the jury were not satisfied that 
the death occurred by a shot, of which the 
prisoner was conscious, that they could not 
convict him of murder. 
That if they found he was unconscious of 
any one shot there was no discriminating 
evidence to show which shot was the fatal 
one, and they must acquit. 
That if at the time he was in a state of 
insanity, produced by epilepsy or mania or 
any other cause, he was not responsible. 
That if at the time of the shooting he was 
in a state of overwhelming terror, in which 
neither he nor any other person could have 
exercised choice or will, then he must be 
acquitted. 
The Court then ordered a recess of thirty- 
five minutes, after which the Judge, at 
about half past one o'clock, commenced 
his charge to the jury, concluding it at 
about half past four o'clock. 
Judge Davis commenced his charge by 
describing the character of the indictment 
against the prisoner, which he said was for 
a crime long defined by statute, but on the 
29th of May the Legislature passed a law- 
altering in material aspects the definition of 
the crime. This was the first trial under 
the new law, and the Court had been called 
onto construe it. Prior to it it. was well 
settled that where there was a killing with 
a well-defined intent to kill, though that 
intent arose at the instant of the act, the 
language of the old statute was:-"Such 
killing * * * shall be murder in the 
first degree * * * when perpetrated 
from a premeditated design to effect the 
death of the person killed, or of any human 
being." The new statute, materially differ- 
ent, reads, "when perpetrated from a de- 
liberate and premeditated design," &c. 
The elementary books speak of intentional 
murder as deliberate murder and presumed 
from malice, deliberation and intention. 
But he thought the intention of the Legis- 
lature was not to go back to that view, but 
might be elucidated by the other provisions 
of the statute. It transferred what was be- 
fore murder in the second degree into mur- 
der in the first degree, and created a new j 
second degree of murder in the second de- ' 
gree, and the draughtsman seemed to have 
desired to intensify it in the separation of 
murder in the first degree. It is defined to 
be "when perpetrated intentionally, but THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
without deliberation or premeditation." 
Deliberation and premeditation were mat- 
ters of fact to be decided by a jury and not 
j by the Court; but in deciding on these 
facts the jury must use their knowledge of 
human nature in its varied aspects. In this 
case the people claimed that the state of 
facts comply.ng with this statute existed. 
He should briefly review the facts alleged 
on either side. 
It was claimed that motive, the impulsion 
to crime, was shown in this case, in that 
the father's violent and bad conduct to- 
wards the prisoner and all his family was 
so bad as to lead to the contemplation of a 
crime like this. If the jury could see that 
such a state of circumstances existed as that 
the idea of relieving himself by an act of 
crime was presented, the jury may find 
there was a motive. The prosecution claim- 
ed that through the bad conduct of the de- 
ceased, his persistent threats and letters, a 
state of mind arose in the prisoner looking 
to the relieving of himself by the death of 
the deceased, if no other means could be 
found. Such circumstances have a double 
aspect, and the people claimed that because 
this man had abandoned his claims as a 
father, and had heaped this violence and 
abuse on his wife and the prisoner, the jury 
might fairly infer a motive. They went 
further than that, and showed that subse- 
quent to the offer of a visit to Europe he re- 
ceived the last letter from his father; that 
this letter presented an obstacle to his visit 
to Europe, and that he thereupon meditated 
some means to relieve himself and his moth- 
er from the monstrous attacks of his father. 
On Sunday it appeared he wrote to his uncle. 
This letter showed that he had accepted 
his uncle's offer, but then goes on to say his 
mother's position is not safe, as it is, and 
announces his intention to visit his father. 
From it might fairly be inferred that he 
had accepted the invitation and this letter 
had come as an obstacle; that he had been 
thinking over means to remove that obsta- 
cle and had resolved to see his father to sec 
if that obstacle might not in some way 
be removed. So much was fairly infer- 
able. Now, the people claimed that he 
rose next morning looking very pallid, went 
to his friend, borrowed $15 and went to 
New York, and that he prepared himself 
by taking a loaded pistol. The evidence 
clearly showed that he went first to his 
father's house; that it was on the sug- 
gestion of the boarding house keeper he 
wrote the note in evidence. 
It was claimed by the prosecution that all 
these were steps in a deliberate purpose 
either to shoot his father or obtain a satis- 
factory settlement of the family difficulties by 
obtaining a promise not to annoy his mother, 
or if that were not given then to destroy 
him. It was claimed that this was carried 
out by the coolness of the prisoner, evincing 
a full knowledge of the nature of the act 
and its consequences in his sending for a 
policeman and his statements to the ser- 
geant at the station house. The judge then 
read the testimony of the sergeant at legth. 
These declarations, coupled with the pre- 
vious steps, were, it was claimed, matters 
which shed light on the intention of the 
prisoner as set out by the prosecution, es- 
pecially when coupled with the great wrongs 
to his mother and family, the threats and 
dangers to his mother and himself, sup- 
posed by him to exist. 
On the part of the defence it was shown 
that the sum he borrowed was just about 
equal to his fare both ways and one day's 
expenses; that he expressed to his friend 
and to Mr. Ainsdell, and in a message to 
his mother, his expectation of returning on 
Tuesday; that he went to his father's resi- 
dence direct to make the contemplated ar- 
rangement at once with him and return the 
same night to Saratoga, and that his know- 
ledge of the consequences of the act of the 
killing of his father was not at all consis- 
tent with such deliberation. It was for the 
jury to decide which of the two things they 
were to believe. Nevertheless they must 
remember that it was unnatural to announce 
such a purpose as the prosecution claimed, 
nor were these declarations wholly incon- 
sistent with the alternative purpose alleged 
by the prosecution, and of which he might 
hope to effect the milder alternative. 
Nevertheless, if there were any reasonable THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
doubt on the question the prisoner was en- 
titled to it. The prosecution were bound 
to make out the fact of deliberation and 
premeditation beyond reasonable doubt, 
but if they were satisfied either of the posi- 
tive intent to kill or of the alternative reso- 
lution to kill if the father did not make a 
satisfactory arrangement, the fact was made 
out within the definition (of murder in the 
first degree. 
This brought him to the consideration of 
murder in the second degree. This, under 
the statute, was a killing with intention, 
but without deliberation or premeditation. 
It might be a swift intent, formed on the 
spur of the moment. Formerly this was 
murder in the first degree. It required no 
premeditation at Saratoga, no deliberate 
setting out to kill the father, but merely that 
if when they met something sudden occur, 
ring in his father's manner of action roused 
up a hasty, sudden, instantaneous determi- 
nation to kill. Whatever the deceased's 
appearance toward the world, his character, 
as shown by the evidence before them, 
toward his wife and children was despicable 
beyond description. According to the 
evidence, he said, for they could not have 
the deceased before them to explain the let- 
ters, if they were capable of explanation. 
The public should be careful to remem- 
ber, said Judge Davis, what they are very 
prone to forget, and it is what the general 
public are very apt to do, that in the eye of 
the law all men, without respect to their 
condition of character, bad devices, or their 
moral or physical nature, are under the pro- 
tection of the law. The same shield that is 
ever the bad is over you, and each of you; 
stands by your bedside at night and in all 
your domestic relations; in those, too, who 
are purest in their lives. The genius of the 
law7 protects every person, however humble 
he may be. It is a wild and foolish notion 
that a man may be called to have his 
grave laid open to show7 up his character 
and his pursuits in life, for the purpose of 
creating a public sentiment that he was so 
bad a man that he ought to die. I say that 
this wild notion of justice has no approval 
in the administration of either truth or law7. 
It is proper and just for you to discard from 
the consideration of this case the notion 
that Walworth was not fit to live. The 
Judge who is to determine this does not sit 
in this Court nor in this jury box. He de- 
termines this question by that which you 
and I do not possess-an infinite knowledge 
and an omniscience that reads every soul 
and finds truth wherever it is. The law 
upon this subject has been well expressed 
by Chief Justice Davies. (This opinion was 
read by the judge.) 
The evidence in the case for the defence 
might be specified as of a twofold character. 
First-That the prisoner at the time of the 
alleged crime was outside of the law, be- 
cause he was insane. Second-That the 
act of shooting his father was prompted by 
self-defence. That, with the exception of 
the one just alluded to, as to the character 
of the father, which was no law, covered 
the points of the defence. Taking the 
second first:-As to self-defence, its right is 
a natural one and recognized by law within 
certain limits. This was claimed to be justi- 
fiable homicide under our statute. The 
statute recognizes excusable or justifiable 
homicide, four grades of manslaughter and 
two of murder. It does not recognize dis- 
tinctly parricide or matricide. The crime 
is one likely to produce horror, but the law 
only recognizes it as homicide. The Judge 
then defined justifiable homicide, and said 
that threats against an absent person do not 
justify such homicide. The only ground on 
which the threat against his mother could 
have any weight was as they gave point to 
his fear- for himself. He quoted the People 
vs. Shorter as laying down the true rule 
that the appearances must be of immediate 
attack, intended and imminent danger. It 
was for the jury to determine whether these 
facts existed. If they did the party w7as en- 
titled to a verdict of acquittal. In this case 
they had really nothing as to the real trans- 
action at the time of its occurrence but the 
statement of the prisoner read before the 
Coroner. That was this:-"I am guilty of 
no crime. My father treated my mother 
very cruelly, incensed against his father. 
* ' * * He -wrote among other things, ' I THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
will defeat the damned scoundrel in his 
grave.' He had just before put his hand up 
to his breast as if to draw a pistol. I fired. 
* * * He closed rapidly on ipe, and had 
his grasp on me when I fired the last shot. 
This was his own statement, and they were 
to presume that it was as favorable to him- 
self as the truth would permit. (The Court 
here repeated the incidents of the morning 
tion. i;.e ii.:.e il.e piisumc v.t.s to 
the time that deceased entered.) What oc- 
curred in there was not overheard. It was 
for the jury to fill up this bare skeleton. 
The evidence tended to show that no pistol 
was drawn. Nothing was found upon the 
deceased except a small bunch of keys. 
There was then no real danger, and nothing 
done to justify the drawing of a pistol. It 
was, however, for the jury to consider 
whether the father did anything to give the 
prisoner a right to say that the father was 
about to draw a pistol to shoot. The 
Judge then explained at length that the 
prisoner invited his father to meet him, and 
that that very much modified the expecta- 
tion of danger. The jury had a just right 
to inquire whether there was strong and 
satisfactory evidence that the prisoner was 
placed in such a position as to take steps to 
justify death. But that is as far as the rule 
ought to go. 
The letters might be devided into two 
series-the first of which were written in 
1871, and they were addressed to the 
prisoner's nrothcr. They were all written 
in the month of July, 1871. They all relate 
to matters relating to the execution of cer- 
tain legal papers, although they were all 
vulgar, dirty things. The jury was to con- 
sider what was the purpose in writing them, 
and also the motives that actuated the use 
of threats. It was right to say that these 
threats wore in violation of the law, and 
that the deceased could have been arrested 
and bound over to keep the peace. The 
matter complained of in the letters was ul- 
timately settled, and the delay in settling 
was occasioned by the illness of the priso- 
ner's mother. The next series of letters 
were in 1872 and contained similar threats. 
The effect of these letters was very much 
intensified by their coming before the Court 
in the shape of an avalanche. The real 
point for the jury to consider was what 
effect these threats had upon the mind of 
the prisoner. That was the only point for 
the jury to consider. 
In relation to the degree of insanity set up 
it must be satisfactorily shown, according 
to a recent decision of a higher Court, that 
' I.c l.:iu i.ot lhe capacity to understand what 
he was doing, and did not know when he 
did it whether it was right or wrong. The 
Judge amplified on this point and then con- 
cluded by a recapitulation of the main 
points of his charge, and directed the jury 
to retire to their room. 
When the charge was concluded Mr. 
O'Conor presented a list of requests to 
charge, which the Judge had passed over, 
and requested that they be now included 
in the charge. One was that the prosecu- 
tion must prove that of the four pistol 
shots fired, Walworth was killed by the 
first one fired, and not by the other three, 
which might have been fired by accident; 
but this the judge declined to do. 
The jury then retired. 
XI. 
THE VERDICT. 
The jury retired to their room at about 
thirty-five minutes past four o'clock on 
Wednesday afternoon, July 2, 1873, in 
charge of two officials of the Court. The 
Judge, lawyers, and officers of the Court 
generally, left the Court house, and numer- 
ous speculations were indulged in by the 
spectators of the trial as to when the jury 
would return and what the verdict would 
be. 
At about a quarter past eight o'clock, 
Judge Davis came into Court. Directly 
behind him came the Sheriff's officers, next 
to them the prisoner, his cheek a little 
blanched, but his head still erect; behind 
him the mother, on the arm of the Rev. 
Clarence A. Walworth, and following them TIIE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
General Hardin and his mother and the re- 
maining relatives. Little Tracy, the young 
brother, threaded his way cheerily among 
the taller humanity, clambered over his 
brother's knee and took his seat beside 
him. 
Then the jurors dropped into their seats, 
and Assistant District Attorneys Rollins 
and Lyon appeared in their places. Mr. 
O'Conor came in and took position at his 
desk. 
"How say you, gentlemen of the jury?" 
asked Mr. Sparks, the Clerk of the Court, 
amid a silence that was oppressive. "Have 
you agreed upon a verdict?" 
"We have," replied the faint voice of the 
foreman. 
An almost intense suppression of breath- 
ing was noticeable throughout the court 
room. The prisoner's face blanched and 
became as white and as rigid as marble. 
The mother put her hand to her breast and 
leaned her head intently towards the jury, 
while over-her face, hope, fear, doubt and 
anguish chased one another in a rush of 
varying emotion. 
" Gentlemen of the jury," continued Mr. 
Sparks, " stand in your places." 
The jury rose up. 
" Prisoner stand up." 
The young man rose instantly as erect as a 
pine, and turned his face rigidly towards 
the twelve men who held his life in their 
hands. 
"Gentlemen of the jury look upon the 
prisoner. Prisoner look upon the jury. 
How say you, gentlemen of the jury? Do 
you find the prisoner, Frank II. Walworth, 
guilty or not guilty of the crime charged 
against him?" 
Foreman-Guilty in the second degree. 
Clerk-Of what-of murder? 
' Foreman-Yes. 
Clerk-How say you then? You find the 
prisoner guilty of murder in the second de- 
gree and not guilty of murder in the first 
degree? 
The foreman nodded his head. 
" So say you, all of you?" 
The whole twelve nodded their heads. 
The prisoner received the blow without a 
change of countenance, and when, at a nod 
from the Clerk, the jury sat down, he, too, 
resumed his seat and listlessly loosened his 
necktie. His mother turned toward him 
one look of affection, and as his wearied eye 
caught hers she turned the look into a smile, 
to which the prisoner wearily responded. 
The rest of the relatives sat around, unde- 
cided whether the verdict was a triumph or 
not, .and little Tracy, the novelty of these 
strange proceedings being over, rested hia 
head upon his brother's arm and gave way 
to sleep. 
Mr. O'Conor, after a short consultation 
with Mrs. Walworth, asked that the sen- 
tence be deferred until counsel could file 9, 
bill of exceptions. Judge Davis, after some 
discussion, agreed to give him until Satur- 
day, and adjourned the Court until that 
day. The prisoner was then taken into the 
anteroom, and soon afterward was returned 
to his cell in the Tombs. 
XII. 
TIIE SENTENCE. 
Soon after the assembling of the Court, 
on Saturday morning, July 5, District At- 
torney Phelps slowly rose in his seat and 
addressed the Court as follows: 
" The trial of Frank II. Walworth for the 
murder of Mansfield Tracy Walworth hag 
terminated by a verdict by an impartial jury 
of murder in the second degree. It is my 
duty, and I now move that the Court pasfl 
sentence upon the prisoner in accordance 
with the verdict pronounced against him." 
"Walworth, arise," said Mr. Sparks, the 
Clerk, as soon as the District Attorney had 
taken his scat. 
Young Walworth did as bidden, looking 
Mr. Sparks steadily in the eye. 
"What have you to say," continued Mr. | 
Sparks, " why judgment of the Court should j 
not now be pronounced against you accord; 
ing to law ?" 1 
Walworth brought his left hand, which 
had been hanging by his side, up to his THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
face, straightened himself back and moved 
slightly from his position. Not a word, 
however, came from his lips. 
Judge Davis, as if in doubt whether the 
prisoner intended to say anything, waited 
fully half a minute, and then proceeded to 
pass sentence. At times his voice trem- 
bled, and once or twice it seemed as though 
his voice would choke in the depth of his 
emotion. He spoke as follows;- 
"Walworth, I have never been called 
upon in my life to perform a more painful 
duty than the one which devolves upon me 
now. After the trial in which you have 
had the benefit of counsel not surpassed, if 
equalled, in ability and learning, and of a 
jury selected substantially by yourself, you 
have been convicted of the crime of murder 
in the second degree. The punishment of 
that crime is fixed by statute. No discre- 
tion is left to the Court. It is severe, but 
as the Court deems your case it is none too 
severe. It separates you from your friends 
and your family and consigns you for life to 
the State Prison, from which you probably 
can have no hope of escape unless, possibly, 
at some future day, through Executive 
clemency. The evidence in your case, in 
my judgment, fully justified the verdict 
which has been rendered against you, and I 
have fearful doubts tl.at it would have justi- 
fied a verdict of murder in the first degree, 
for I cannot conceive what motives you 
had in preparing yourself as you did with a 
pistol loaded, coming to New York, seek- 
ing an interview with your father, and al- 
most immediately shooting him down, ex- 
cept upon the idea that you had deliberately 
determined that his life should be termi- 
nated by your hand. I hope, however, that 
the Searcher of all hearts can perceive from 
your conduct that you were not animated 
by that premeditation and deliberation 
which the statute now requires to constitute 
the crime in the first degree. 
■' "The duty I am to perform is rendered 
1doubly painful by the fact that you belong 
to a family honored and distinguished both 
in the civil and military annals of your 
country. Your grandfather on the one hand 
was, as has been truly said by your counsel, 
for a long time the chief equity Judge of 
this great State, and he left a record for 
purity and integrity and for all the private 
virtues that advance and elevate man second 
to none who have adorned so high a station. 
And, on the other hand, a grandfather on 
the mother's side fell nobly fighting for his 
country on the field of battle, and left a 
record of which all his decendants may be 
proud. It is with grief that I feel bound to 
express my sorrow that the the memory of 
those great and distinguished ancestors 
should not have restrained you from the 
commission of such a crime as that of which 
you are convicted. Your poor mother had, 
indeed, great cause to regret her relations 
to the father whom you have slain. You, 
also undoubtedly, had great cause to feel 
not aggrieved merely, but ashamed and in- 
dignant at the long course of outrages to- 
ward her and toward his family; but, bad 
as he was, you were not to be the avenger 
of these wrongs. 
" lie had done nothing to forfeit his life, 
even to the laws of his country, and least of 
all had he done anything to forfeit his life 
at the hand of his own and eldest son. 
When I look back at that moment when you 
constituted yourself his executioner and 
slew him in that room with no one present 
but yourself, I cannot but feel that that 
death must have been more horrible than a 
thousand deaths in any other form. Called 
by you to your presence, apparently for the 
purposes of a peaceful interview to settle 
family difficulties; invited to a seat in your 
room and apparently almost instantly con- 
fronted with a weapon of death in his own 
son's hands, what thoughts must have rush- 
ed upon him at that moment, when he 
found that the person whom he had expect- 
ed had cone to him for the purposesofa 
peaceful arrangement-what terrible 
thoughts must have rushed upon him when 
he received the leaden messenger of death 
in his bosom from the hands of his eldest 
boy? I shudder when I think of it, and I 
think you ought to devote your whole life to 
a repentance such as God only can accept 
for so horrible a crime. The sentence of the 
Court is that you be imprisoned in the State THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Prison at Sing Sing, at hard labor, for the 
full term of your natural life." 
Throughout the delivery of the sentence 
the prisoner looked all the while steadily at 
the Judge. Not a tremor of emotion did he 
evince from the beginning to the end. It 
was the same throughout the circle of his 
family attendants. There was no show of 
feeling on the part of any of them. 
Everybody looked on astonished. The 
condemned young man after the sentence 
spoke to his mother, then shook hands with 
his counsel and some of his-friends. Then 
an officertook him in charge, and conveyed 
him to his quarters in the Tombs. 
• XIII. 
ON THE ROAD TO SING SING. 
On Wednesday morning, July 9th, at 
about half-past nine o'clock, Deputy Sheriffs 
Shields, Cahil and Ridgway passed the en- 
trance gate to the Tombs. In the lobby, 
outside the inner gate, were groups of 
ladies, who had evidently expected to find a 
ready admission within the walls. This 
little excitement was caused by the circum- 
stance that a cluster of convicts «were to 
leave the Tombs for the Sing Sing Prison. 
Shortly after the entrance of the Deputies 
a number of prisoners, who had been sen- 
tenced to Sing Sing for various terms, were 
handcuffed in a line. Their names, crimes, 
and sentences are as follows: 
Thomas Friery, 20 years of age, convicted 
of burglary and sentenced to four years and 
six months' imprisonment. 
William Jones, 15 years of age, burglary 
and escape from prison, four years and six 
months' imprisonment. 
Patrick Halleck, burglary and assault, 
sentenced for five years' imprisonment. 
Abraham Grenthal, for grand larceny, one 
and a half years' imprisonment. 
Joseph Mullen, burglary, two years and 
five months' imprisonment. 
Francis Gillen, for murder; sentenced to 
imprisonment for life. 
After the prisoners had been handcuffed, 
in a continuous string, Mr. Shields pro- 
ceeded to search them. Nothing was found 
in the pockets of any person except Gren- 
thal. That gentleman had a six-bladed 
knife and a snuff box in his breeches 
pocket, which articles of vertu were taken 
by Mr. Shields. In his coat pockets were 
six French rolls, of which he was also dis- 
possessed, the Sheriff saying that he would 
find plenty to eat in Sing Sing. 
Meantime Walworth was lying in cell No. 
7 enjoying the luxury of his last shave by 
an experienced barber. He was dressed in 
a light suit throughout, the clothes being 
the same which he wore from Saratoga 
when he came on the fatal journey which 
ended in the death of his father. As he 
lay on the bed he smiled sweetly as of old, 
and seemed to have no fear of the life into 
which he was about to enter. 
Just as the barber finished his manipula- 
tions, Mrs. Chancellor Walworth, the grand- 
mother of the prisoner, arrived, accompanied 
by a colored maid servant. Walworth 
kissed his grandmother, and shook hands 
cordially with the maid. The two women 
entered his cell, and an animated conversa- 
tion' ensued. Shortly afterward Mrs. Mans- 
field Tracy Walworth and her younger son 
arrived. They, too, entered the cell of the 
parricide. 
At twenty minutes to ten Sheriff Brennan 
and Mr. Judson Jarvis entered the con- 
demned tier. Then it was announced to 
Walworth that the time for departure had 
come. He kissed his mother and grand- 
mother, and stepped quickly from his cell. 
That which was particularly noticeable was 
that there were no indications of a scene on 
the part of Frank Walworth, his mother 
and grandmother. If there was any feeling 
it was suppressed; the tears and the grief- 
marked countenance were wanting, and the 
parting showed no more signs of sorrow 
than if it was of a pleasant description and 
only for a time. 
An opening had been reserved for him 
between Gillen and Jones, the first of whom 
ended the line on the left. He saw 
the opening and took his position with- THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
out waiting for any direction from the 
keepers. His mother followed him from 
the cell and stood in front of him. As the 
handcuffs were being adjusted to his wrists 
Deputy Sheriff Shields passed his hands 
around his clothing to see that he carried 
nothing away with him that was forbidden 
by the law. His lips quivered and he 
evinced the first sign of emotion. The 
bracelet was adjusted to his left hand, lock- 
ing him to Gillen. lie was still trembling. 
Then he looked up and met his mother's 
eye. A smile was on her face, and it called 
forth a response from Walworth. From 
that moment he gave no evidence of any 
emotion whatever. He was the same cool, 
collected man of the world that he had been 
ever since his arrest. The -smile upon his 
face and his apparent indifference to his 
fate was the same kind of defiant bravado 
of law that characterized the unquestionably 
more hardened criminals, whose way of life 
had been from their childhood, almost, in 
the paths of crime. 
As the prisoners were about being con- 
ducted to the prison wall an elegant basket 
of flowers was taken to Walworth. The 
colors were variegated, but the ground- 
work was white, and the monogram F. W. 
was beautifully worked in red in the ground- 
work. To the basket was attached a card 
which read: 
"Mr. F. II. Walworth, 
with regards and sympathy, 
Yours, E. W." 
' The card was taken by Frank, and Mrs. 
Walworth took charge of the flowers. 
- The prisoners were then marched from 
the Tombs to the prison van, by which they 
Were taken to the Forty-second street depot. 
Walworth had a pocket full cf segars, and 
lie gave one to each of his seven compan- 
ions. Thus, as he afterward said to a re- 
porter, "the smoke neutralized the bad 
odor of the prison van, and the prisoners 
reached the depot in comparative comfort 
and safety." 
All the ladies and officials immediately 
left the Tombs, taking their last farewell 
look as Walworth stepped into the van. 
Mrs. Walworth, as soon as the van started 
from the prison, took a Fourth avenue car 
for the depot. She arrived there before 
her son, carrying the basket of flowers and 
purchasing a ticket for Sing Sing, took her 
seat in an ordinary first-class car. 
The string of prisoners, as soon as they 
arrived, were conducted to the smoking car, 
where they were accommodated with four 
seats. It was soon noised about the depot 
that Frank Walworth was on the 10:40 train 
for Sing Sing. The result was that every 
other car was emptied, ■ /id the passengers 
flocked to the smoking car to have a look at 
the lion of the hour. The car was fairly 
packed, and for a time breathing was al- 
most impossible. To a reporter, who ac- 
companied the party to Sing Sing, and who 
sat immediately behind Walworth, the lat- 
ter said it was amusing to see the anxiety 
on the part of the crowd to see a man who 
had been victimized. 
"It don't seem to annoy you much, Mr. 
Walworth," said the reporter. 
"No," he replied, "I hope we shall get 
the car cleared oTthe crow d soon, and we 
shall get some fresh air. It is the want of 
that I have felt the most." 
"The Tombs is a long way from being 
healthy, and I thought this morning, as I 
went in from the fresh air of the street, I 
could snuff the mouldy dampness of those 
walls."' 
" I don't suppose," replied Walworth, 
"that it is the unhealthiness of the Tombs, 
though it is not a very healthy place, I be- 
lieve ; but I have lost fourteen pounds in 
weight since I went in there. I had been 
accustomed to a good deal of outdoor exer- 
cise, boating and similar occupations, and I 
was in excellent health." 
"You were well treated in the Tombs; 
had not much to complain of, had you?" 
"No, I was -well treated. I found the 
Warden very fair and considerate. Of 
course, it was not like being outside. You 
are a prisoner, and it is just as well to re- 
member that and make up your mind to 
it." 
Did you mix with the other prisoners 
much, so as to know anything of them or 
their characteristics?" "Yes, I found those whom I got very in- 
timate with very decent sort of fellows. I 
think there is a great deal more good in 
criminals than people generally suppose. 
That is my conviction after a short experi- 
ence. Of course, a fellow feeling makes us 
kind; but, even allowing for that, I think 
there is a love of fair play and a general de- 
sire to be sociable on the part of the men 
that can't help to make one feel very kindly 
towards them. 
At length the train moved from the depot, 
and the suffocating crowd dispersed. Many 
were contributions from other trains, and 
when the whistle which announced the de- 
parture sounded, went out of the car. An 
instant sense of relief came over the occu- 
pants of the car. Mr. Judson Jarvis said, 
"We will have a little air now, at all 
events." 
But still, although the car was vacated, 
the street along the road was lined. 1 ' There 
he is," "That's Walworth!" was heard on 
both sides of the train. The only effect 
upon the parricide was to make him smile 
at the curiosity of the crowd. 
The car reached Harlem. As the train 
entered, a large crowd was seen on the 
bridge. Walworth said: 
"There must be a race there, to draw 
this crowd." 
"Are you fond of rowing?" asked the 
reporter. 
"I was fond of all athletic sports," was 
the answer, "but base ball is my specialty. 
I have had more experience in that than in 
anything else. I have been banged about 
and hurt generally in that. In boating I 
love sailing, and I think I can manage a 
sail boat as well as the best of them. I have 
been brought up to exercise myself in every 
way possible, and I believe that is the way 
to bring a man up." 
The handcuffs on Walworth's hands 
seemed to trouble him exceedingly, but 
when the reporter spoke of them he said, 
Still smiling: 
"These are the first cuffs I ever had on 
that perspiration did not affect the starch 
in them." 
THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
This was overheard and a general laugh 
followed. 
At this point a letter was handed him by 
the conductor from his mother. It. was a 
short note of about ten lines. He read it, 
smiled, and said: 
" I have a good mother, and I would die 
for her if necessary." 
The inevitable nuisance of railway trains 
-the prize candy boy-came along. He 
left a package in every seat except the scats 
of the convicts, and as he passed Walworth 
and Gillen, who were sitting together, the 
former said:- 
" I never realized the advantage of hand- 
cuffs before. I have often wondered if I 
could go in a train without being bored by 
these candy boys. I have done it this time, 
but I assure you it is the first." 
Walworth was seated on the right side of 
the car, and consequently lost the view of 
the Hudson. Speaking of this, he said: 
" I have seen the Hudson often enough, 
and am going where I shall probably see 
more of it than I wish. It is a beautiful 
river; and, speaking of the Hudson, do you 
see that I have the same clothes on that I 
wore when I came from Saratoga, the last 
time I traveled on this road? Then I came 
down in a palace car; now I go up in a 
smoking car to State Prison. But, after 
all, what does it matter? I have done what 
I deemed to be my duty. If I have erred, 
it has been an error of judgment, not of the 
heart. I thought I was doing right in pro- 
tecting my motlipr, and I think so now." 
A gentleman who wore blue glasses 
passed. He stopped for fully two minutes 
and gazed at Walworth. Frank said : 
"I will bet that man will come back 
again to look at the menagerie." 
He was right. The man did return, and 
stood at least two minutes more. Then he 
went away, and Walworth, with a half 
sigh, leaned his head against the window, 
and said no more for half an hour. 
At length at Tarrytown he roused him- 
self and said: " This wind is nice. Do you 
know I like the trees and all things green. 
We arc getting among them now, and the 
only consolation I have, except that of hav- THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
ing done my duty, is that I shall have 
plenty of green things and the dear old 
Hudson to look at in Sing Sing. You may 
think-that I am going to give -way when I 
get there. You will find yourself mistaken. 
I am happy wherever I am-that is, so far 
as circumstances will permit." 
Gillen, to whom Walworth was attached 
by the handcuffs, is under sentence for life 
for the murder of his wife. They had 
quarrelled and she had left him. He met 
her one day on the street, and inflicted a 
number of stabs upon her from which she 
almost instantly died. He plead guilty to 
murder in the second degree, under the new 
law, and sentence for life was passed upon 
him. On his way to Sing Sing he said that 
he never intended to kill his wife; that on 
the morning after the murder he realized 
what he had done. lie had been drinking 
for some days before, induced thereto by 
his wife's infidelities. He attributed his 
wife going astray from the paths of virtue 
to the miserable salary she received as a 
milliner in a dry goods store, and said there 
were thousands of work girls who did the 
same. He manfully acknowledged his 
guilt; said that he had made the suggestion 
to his counsel that he should plead guilty 
to the murder of second degree, and he was 
quite prepared and willing to take the con- 
sequences of that plea. In his straightfor- 
wardness, his lack of flippancy and his re- 
spect for law- he contrasted very favorably 
with Walworth. 
At length Sing Sing wasfeachcd. At the 
depot there was considerable excitement on 
the arrival of the train. There was a crowd 
at the station, and it was increasing in num- 
bers. Walworth looked at the gloomy walls 
of the prison with a sober, but not sad gaze. 
He said: 
' ' Yonder is my home. I only hope I shall 
be able to get a swim there once in awhile." 
When the train had been stopped, Deputy 
Sheriff Shields said: " Boys, we will have a 
last drink before you go from your liberty." 
The men, handcuffed together, were taken 
[ to Daly's Phoenix Hotel, where they had 
their last drink, previous to entering upon 
their weary and long imprisonment. This 
got through, deputy sheriffs, prisoners, and 
a few friends walked down the railroad 
track to the prison. Tn the private office 
of the Warden was Mrs. Walworth, waiting 
for her son. Frank was allowed to leave 
the rest of the convicts to greet her, and he 
spent a few moments in conversation with 
her while the other prisoners were giving 
the usual particulars respecting themselves 
at the desk.* Finally his turn came, and he 
left his mother to answer the clerk's ques- 
tions, which he did, somewhat in a flippant 
and joking manner. The parting of both 
mother and son was characteristic. There 
were no signs of grief; there was no long 
and tender farewell. There was the gentlest 
and most well-bred kiss, a single shake of 
the hand, and Frank joined the convict 
group. 
Accompanied by the Doctor, the eight 
convicts were taken to the dressing room. 
There they threw every article of dress they 
had on into a basket, which was placed in 
the centre of the group, and they put on 
the "striped suit," which is the peculiar 
wear of convicted prisoners. While this 
was going on Walworth was as gay as any 
of the crowd, and seemed rather to enjoy 
the novelty of the thing. By and by he left 
the dressing room with the rest, each of 
them having a towel and comb in his hand, 
and each of them went to their allotted 
cells. His cell is No. 57, on the second 
tier. Tie is to go into the shoe shop, there 
to learn enough of the trade to it him to 
become chief clerk in the stock department, 
where it is supposed that his education will 
admirably qualify him for so important a 
trust. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
SKETCH OF M. T. WALWORTH 
Mansfield Tracy Walworth was born 
Dec. 3, 1830, being the son of Reuben 
Hyde Walworth, who was for twenty years 
the Chief Judge of the Court of Chancery ' 
in the State of New York. 
Chancellor Walworth lived for many years 
and up to the time of his death at the residence 
known as the 1 ' Walworth Mansion, " at Sara- 
toga Springs. The mansion is situated on 
Broadway, in that village, about a mile from 
the principal hotels. It is a plain, unpretend- 
ing old building,- almost hidden from pub- 
lic gaze by magnificent elm trees, and 
possesses nothing attractive in appearance. 
The Chancellor acquired the reputation of a 
man of high honor and integrity in public 
life, but he is said to have ruled his house- 
hold with a rod of iron. He was a strict 
Presbyterian, and in the gloomy family 
home the Puritanical ideas which found 
favor in the days of our grandfathers were 
strictly enforced. The two sons of the 
Chancellor, the deceased and an elder 
brother, who is now a Catholic priest in 
Albany, spent their childhood in this 
gloomy old house and under this Puritani- 
cal rule. Boys who are brought up in this 
fasbjon generally become one of two things. 
They develop into sneaks and hypocrites, 
or rush into the opposite extreme, and by a 
life of reckless depravity and unbridled 
enjoyment . vainly imagine that they are 
asserting their manhood. 
Young Mansfield entered Union College 
at the age of sixteen, and graduated two 
years after, an exceptionally early agejor a 
college course. It was while at college that 
the evil effects of the training which he had 
received through mistaken zeal began to 
show themselves. The boy, who when at home 
was afraid to call his soul his own, became 
the fastest young man in college, develop- 
ing qualities which eventually came to be 
the bane of his life. 
While at college his father married again, 
his second wife being the widow of Colonel 
John Hardin, of Kentucky, a gallant officer, 
who met his death at the battle of Buena 
Vista, in Mexico. Colonel Hardin was one 
of the best known men in the State of Ken-, 
tucky and wielded a powerful influence. 
Miss Nellie Hardin, his daughter, was look- 
ed upon as an extremely beautiful girl, so 
that she was toasted as the belle of her native 
State. After the deatli of the Colonel, his 
widow having some legal business in con- 
nection with her estate to transact, by the 
advice of friends, had recourse to the ad- 
vice of Chancellor Walworth. The Chan- 
cellor solved the difficulty by marrying the 
widow' and making the case his own, and 
in an evil hour Miss Nellie Hardin be- 
came an inmate of the same housa 
Mansfield Walworth. 
After the marriage of the Chancellor 
Mansfield returned from college and took 
up his residence with his father. He was 
young and handsome. Miss Hardin was sur- 
passingly beautiful, and the Chancellor 
thought it would be a happy idea to arrange 
a match. It does not appear that there was 
any strong love between the young people, 
but they were married and continued to re- 
side- in Saratoga. Mutual friends who 
knew the character of the bridegroom shook 
their heads when tlie marriage was- consum- 
mated, and although they hoped for the 
best, they feared the worst. The husband 
and his wife were, therefore, step-brother 
and sister prior to their marriage, and the 
acquaintance leading to the union was form- 
ed in the home circle during the life of the 
Chancellor, when his son and step-daughter 
were but children mutually dependent on 
his fatherly care and support. 
Chancellor Walworth had set his heart 
upon bringing up his son in the profession 
of the law, and after three years', study at 
Cambridge law school Mansfield was admit- 
ted to practice at the bar of New A ork 
State, and was subsequently admitted to 
practice in the Courts of the United States, THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
The famous patent suit between Erast us 
Corning of Albany and Henry Burden of 
Troy, popularly known as "The Spike 
Case," and involving a claim of $1,200,000, 
was referred at this time to Chancellor Wal- 
worth for decision. His son, Mansfield, 
was appointed the clerk of this memorable 
reference, at a salary of $5,000 per annum, 
and for a number of years was constantly 
occupied in recording the testimony taken 
and preparing it for the press. The printed 
evidence finally made a number of volumes 
large enough to constitute a law library. 
Ilis labors in this suit, however, did not 
prevent him from indulging in literary pur- 
suits, and while he discharged his duties 
in the case he also produced a number of 
sketches and several continuous stories. 
About the time of the opening of the war 
with the South, the great suit in which he 
had been clerk of reference so long abruptly 
terminated. He had held the position for. 
about fifteen years. Through the influence 
of his father he was then appointed to a 
position in the State Department in Wash- 
ington, which he held for some time. Here 
he w ent daily to his work, and was known 
as a sober and industrious gentleman. 
Suddenly, it is alleged, the proofs were 
found that he had been for some time using 
the means his position in the State Depart- 
ment furnished him with to give secret in- 
formation to the Confederate authorities of 
what was going on in the North. He was 
arrested and thrown into the Old Capitol 
Prison, from whence he was released as a 
prisoner on parole and sent to Saratoga, 
where his father had to send a written re- 
port of his presence to the War Department 
every day. When the war ended he was 
released as a prisoner and permitted to wan- 
der wherever he pleased. 
Some years ago, he, with his wife, joined 
the Boman Catholic Church, but subsequent- 
ly he appeared to have thrown oft' the re- 
straints of religion altogether, and so far as 
the Catholic faith was concerned, had 
written against it. 
Apparently few of those with whom M. 
T. Walworth had any association knew of 
the family troubles which finally culminat- 
ed in his murder. Even to his most inti 
mate friends he was very reticient about his 
domestic troubles, and few of his acquaint- 
ances knew of the existence of a skeleton in 
the closet. The general testimony is that 
outside of his family his deportment was 
that of a polished gentleman, while a num- 
ber of incidents are given indicative of a 
mildness of disposition and goodness of 
feeling wholly at variance with the conduct 
ascribed to him as a husband and father. 
His appearance was quite prepossessing, 
and he was considerable of a favorite in 
some circles in New York and other cities. 
He was fastidious and proud of his hand- 
some person and fond of exhibiting himself 
in the streets of our large cities. When hie 
best work-"Warwick; or, the Lost Na- 
tionalities of America"-appeared it creat- 
ed a great sensation, and its author was 
eagerly sought after and his society courted 
in fashionable places. One of his critics 
speaks of "Warwick " as the finest creation 
of his brain, and as displaying his peculiar 
qualities in a marked degree, and adds:- 
" He had not what could be called a great 
mind, but he had a remarkably clear and 
brilliant one, and if he had lived he Avould, 
doubtless, have attained a considerable emi- 
nence in the ranks of literature. Without 
a hundreth part of the genius of Byron, he 
possessed in a marked degree many of the 
latter's characteristics. Like the great poet, 
he was haunted by a morbid egotism, and 
was fond of parading himself and his trou- 
bles in almost every work he gave to the 
world. Like Byron, he was unhappy in his 
marriage relations, and this domestic infe- 
licity proved to be the bane and curse of his 
life." • 
lie was a member of the Newr Aork His- 
torical Society and was a frequent visitor at 
their halls on Second avenue. Although, 
some years ago, he gave promise of attain- 
ing a high position as an orator, yet he 
abandoned the idea and contented himself 
with writing addresses, which has Vaeen 
frequently delivered before literary Eocie-. 
ties. 
The following extracts from a letter, 
written about a week after the murder,' by THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
Augustus Walters, who had been on terms 
of intimacy with Mr. Walworth, fully ex- 
hibits that he was capable of inspiring in 
others very marked feelings of friendship: 
' ' Some five years ago I went to Saratoga as 
a newspaper correspondent, and arrived in 
the month of August, at which time that 
famous centre of frivolity and extravagance 
swarms with adventurers and ultra-fashion- 
ables from all quarters of the globe. In the 
midst of a Babel of excitement- dancing, 
dressing, promenading, flirting, &c.- 
Walworth's novel, entiled 'Warwick' 
(being construcetd with unique and startling 
ingenuity) succeeded in riveting the atten- 
tion of all classes-not only the highly cul- 
tivated, but even the most listless and un- 
thinking-so that parlor, piazza, bedroom 
and Congress Park were alike noticeable as 
resorts for the 'Warwick' readers. As a 
consequence, there was a vast deal of com- 
ment in regard to the author, and he was 
constantly pointed out as one of the lions of 
the Springs. In fact, like another Byron, 
4 he awoke one morning and found himself 
famous.' This was undoubtedly the happi- 
est period of poor Walworth's checkered 
and sad career. He was frequently alluded 
to as a man exceedingly gifted, modest and 
engaging. * * * In becoming acquainted 
with several resident families, I noticed, as 
usual, that Walworth's most severe and 
merciless critics were the people of his own 
village. As an instance of the competency 
of such censors, one young lady, after a very 
pretentious and severe onslaught upon the 
book, coolly inquired of me who Humboldt 
was. After reading the book I immediately 
wrote a kindly Motice of it. This soon after 
attracted Mr. Walworth's attention, and he 
called upon me at the American Hotel. 
"I never remember tc have encountered a 
more agreeable, honest-looking and unas- 
suming man. He was nearly six feet in 
height, splendidly proportioned, dressed 
with scrupulous neatness, and looked you 
squarely in the eye when speaking. Ilis 
hair curled in short crisp locks under a 
Panama hat, and a pair of bright and manly 
blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and 
good-fellowship. His nose was well formed, 
I mouth effeminately small, face clean 
shaved, with the exception, of a delicate 
brown mustache. There was a peculiar 
look about his complexion, however, which 
led me to imagine, with many others, that 
ho had once been greatly dissipated. This, 
I have since learned, was an inherited 
peculiarity of the skin. His chest was broad 
and prominent, and he bore himself as 
straight as a pine. After remarking that I 
was glad to become acquainted with the 
creator of Constant Earle (one of the char- 
acters in ' Warwick,') he replied that he felt 
indebted to me for the friendly notice I had 
written, and laughingly added that some of 
the newspapers bad slashed him without 
mercy-many editors having literally fallen 
upon him tooth and nail. On the other hand, 
a number of Southern organs had spoken 
of him as giving promise of greater things 
than any other living American writer. He 
said he was not discouraged, however, and 
th zt he had already begun arranging the 
plot of a Persian novel. I then remarked 
that the astounding descent of his hero into 
the fbottomless pit' of the Mammoth Cave 
strongly reminded me of some of Edgar 
Poe's weird narratives. He replied that if 
he thought he could ever write anything 
worthy to be compared with Poe he should 
consider he had attained sufficient glory for 
any man. At parting he invited me to call 
at his house, and subsequently I became in- 
timate with the whole family. Many of the 
evenings spent at the old homestead are 
among the pleasantest of my recollections. 
Often of a warm afternoon we all reclined 
the sward beneath the shade of the 
huge whispering pines in the rear of the 
house, and discussed literature, philosophy 
and religion, the little girls and boys often- 
times apparently as much interested as our- 
selves. Incteed. I never in my life beheld a 
pleasanter family group than the Walworths 
then presented. I remember, among other 
things, Mrs. Walworth's laughing account 
of how her husband once roused her in the 
middle of the night, and told her lie had 
solved the problem how to save his hero 
from falling into the ' bottomless pit' after 
he got to the end of the rope. * * < THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE. 
' ' Mr. Walworth became one of my warmest 
friends, subsequently introducing me to the 
Albany editors and writing notices of me 
himself. Indeed, I was so surprised at J 
finding so much gratefulness in an author (a ! 
thing which I have not found of every day oc- 
currence) that I at once expressed my surprise 
for the warm personal interest he exhibited. 
To which he laughingly replied, " Well, I 
have a considerable amount of the Indian in 
my disposition-I never forget either an 
enemy or a friend." 
. But a few letters of the deceased novelist, 
beyond those presented in Court, have come 
to light since his death. These indicate 
great literary industry, much paternal rev- 
erence, and an honorable ambition to be- 
come a writer deserving of applause and re- 
membrance. In one of these letters, writ- 
ten from Albany in 1869, to Mr. Morris 
Phillips, of the Home JourwaZ, New York, he 
says: 
"I am working very hard-harder than 
ever before in my life. In ten months I have 
written and prepared for publication over 
two thousand pages of foolscap, besides 
writing several hundred letters on biograph- 
ical inquiries, and this in addition to almost 
daily study of printed authorities and an- 
cient newspapers. My dear friend, don't 
you hope that I will succeed? I am very 
ambitious of literary fame, and desire most 
earnestly that it shall be of that nature that 
w'ill benefit rather than injure the souls of 
readers. There is something in my organ- 
ization that will not permit me to seek fame 
through the medium of the prurient issues 
of the''press, so popular here and in Eng- 
land. In the book w hich I have dedicated 
to you can be found, I believe, no sugges- 
tion of evil to send the blush to the purest 
and sweetest cheek in Christendom." 
In another he writes: 
"The Boston Transcript economically 
grouped 'Warwick,' 'Hilt to Hilt,' and 
'Cloud on the Heart,' and noticed all three 
favorably in a fifteen line notice. This was 
very funny. I think it will soon condense 
the*Lord's Prayer, Ten Commandments, and 
the Creed into four lines, and say them be- 
fore going to bed, to save time, for time is 
money these days, it spoke well of the 
three books, so we must not complain." 
Another letter reads as follows: 
My Dear Phillips:- 
I have been studying in my mind how to 
show you some permanent token of my re- 
gard for your efficient friendship in battling 
thus for ' Warwick.' I have at last hit upon 
something which I think will gratify you 
and at the same time be a memorial, among 
a higher order of intellects than those who 
read" novels, of my regard and gratitude. 
The life of my first Chancellor (Livingston), 
by the approbation of his niece, Mrs. Wil- 
liam B. Astor, is to be dedicated to her. 
The life of my last Chancellor, whose legal 
fame is well* known among the Chancery 
jurists of England, and which life shall be 
the fullest and ablest my pen can trace, the 
life of Chancellor Walworth, will be dedi- 
cated to my friend Morris Phillips, that in 
every public library of this land and of Eng- 
land* a memorial of my affection may remain 
when I am gone. God bless you. Your 
friend, T. Walworth. 
In another he says: 
" My father was Grand Master of Masons 
in this State, being elected Grand Master in 
June, 1853, and a most zealous Mason lie 
was too. I am collecting all his Masonic 
history to insert in his life, as I am of all 
Chancellor Livingston's Masonic history who 
was also Grand Master of this State. Chan- 
cellor Walworth was also a member of the 
"Ineffable and Sublime Grand Lodge of 
Perfection." I have myself been initiated 
in three degrees of Masonry, and am conse- 
quently a Master Mason, and all of my fath- 
er's superb suits of Masonic regalia have fal- 
len to me. Three of my Chancellors- 
Walworth, Livingston and Lansing-were 
Masons, and I shall insert in their lives all 
Masonic incidents I can collect." 
It is a singular coincidence, which has 
been taken as an evidence that he had a pre- 
monition of what was finally to befall him, 
that in the closing chapters of his latest lit- 
erary effort, "Married in Mask," he proph- 
' esies his own end and foreshadows that his 
! "taking off" would be sudden and tragic. 
The circumstance is remarkable, at least, 
indicating, as it does, that he had fears for 
his life, which were, unhappily, too well 
grounded. THE WALWORTH PARRICIDE.] 
A FULL HISTORY Ob' THE MURPER oE ? \ <E o'',D TRACY WALWORTH, BY 
HIS SOX, F-AXK IT. W ' A h .[, \\ HI THE T? AL, COXVIC- 
TTOX. AXD SEVihXI E Or THE PARRICiDE. 
THOMAS O'KANE, Publisher. 
130 Nassau Street, New York.