The Character of Czolgosz
NO MARKS OF THE TYPICAL MURDERER—STRAIN BEGINNING
TO TELL UPON HIM.
Buffalo, Sept. 17.—Among assassins
Czolgosz appears to belong to a unique type, especially when he
is compared with the two other murderers of Presidents of this country.
John Wilkes Booth, the murderer of Lincoln, was a man full of impulse
and passionate activity. Everything about him at all times indicated
the keenest quality of intelligence, and while an actor by profession,
and one of high achievement, he never attempted any deception or
stupidity after he was caught. Guiteau, the murderer of Garfield,
may best be described as a typical crank, a stage villain, dark,
vicious, erratic and cruel.
Czolgosz belongs to another class
altogether. He is of the big eyed, gentle kind. His face indicates
a simple, tranquil nature. There is nothing about him in his face
or his manner suggestive of violence or intensity. His voice few
have ever heard.
Czolgosz has no luxuries, but receives
humane treatment at the hands of the Erie County officials. His
cell contains a comfortable bed and such light as gets in from the
grated door. His cage is in the inner row of cells, having no communication
with the outside world and no opportunity to hear or know what is
going on. He is not a troublesome prisoner, except that he makes
frequent and urgent demands for tobacco, which is denied him[.]
He suggested yesterday to the officer
watching at his cell door that he would like to be shaved, but no
razor will be placed near his throat, at least, not until after
the trial. He eats well, but last night he slept little and spent
most of the time rolling about on the bed or pacing up and down
the floor. During the day he lay stretched out on the bed, most
of the time gazing up at the ceiling. There is no doubt that he
is wearing down under the strain, and that the gravity of the situation
is beginning to take hold of him. To-day, as he stood in the courtroom,
it was easy to see that his face had changed much from yesterday.
His eyes were further back in his head, the lids were red and had
that watery appearance that comes from protracted sleeplessness.
Yet the guards say that he sleeps well.
The prevailing belief among the men
who have seen most of him is that he is simply playing out the part
planned long before the President was shot, and that when the foreman
of the trial jury shall have pronounced the verdict of death he
will be suddenly awakened from the assumed torpid condition and
give forth a dramatic speech proclaiming the principles of anarchy
and giving himself as a martyr to the death chair.
Police Justice Thomas H. Rochford,
of this city, who has had considerable experience with anarchists
and their doings, said to-night:
This man Czolgosz is simply
playing out the part that has been given him to play. He is
not insane; he is not stupid or oblivious of what is taking
place around him, but he is simply acting out what he has practised
and rehearsed probably for months. I have known a great deal
about these people. I know a lot about the nest in New-Jersey,
and it makes my blood boil when I read in the newspapers that
after the President was shot the Paterson anarchists held a
meeting and toasted Czolgosz with beer glasses to their lips.
That sort of thing could not happen in New-York State, not if
the authorities knew it. But as far as this grovelling [sic]
cur Czolgosz is concerned there is no doubt whatever that he
is merely acting. I am informed that in the secret councils
of the anarchists they have dummies which they practise upon
in the way of firing at them or giving them a knife thrust,
just as our American boys punch a sand bag in gymnasiums, and
there is not the slightest doubt in my mind that the part this
cur is playing here in the courtroom now has been many times
rehearsed by him long before he ever saw the Temple of Music
on the exposition grounds. It stands to reason that this is
the case, for what man among us could go in there under the
circumstances with the face of a poet frozen in marble like