The New York Herald Newspaper, June 4, 1873, Page 3

os PARRICIDE. Tho Author of “Warwick” Shot Dead by His Son in the Sturtevant House. The Demon of Domestic Unhappiness the Cause of the Crime. TERRIBLE DETAILS OF THE TRAGEDY History of the Family Troubles of Mansfield Tracy Walworth and His Wife. MURDER FOR A MOTHER'S HONOR. Young Walworth Says that the Deed Was Done in Defence Against Slander and Personal Danger. STORY OF A MISERABLE MARRIAGE How Two Beings Who Loved Grew Gradually to Hate Each Other. THE CONFESSION TO THE CORONER. Statements of Various Persons Who Were Near the Fatal Scene. The Doctor, the Hotel Olerk and the Ser- vants Tell Their Stories, INTENSE FEELING IN THE CITY. Sketch of the Literary Life of Mansfield Tracy Walworth. INTERVIEWS WITH HIS PUBLISHERS The News at the Home of the Walworths in Saratoga. ‘Of allthe crimes that shock the souls of men none has ever been held in greater abhorrence than par- ricide, which is by all odds the most complete and terrible inversion, not alone of human nature, but of brute instinct. To conceive that the offspring should become the slayer of the parent is fearful ‘under any circumstances, but when the offence is committed with intent and knowledge, even with deliberation, 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- prite were delivered up to the torments of the Furies, (Edipus slew his father Laius as they chanced to meet in the way, while the son ‘was joifrneying to Phocis, and the avenging Fates followed him thereafter with misfortune, disgrace, Temorse and cruel tortures to his death. Orestes, too, the {son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, slew his mother to avenge the deatn of hfs 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 offence, considered in proportion to the aggregates of murders, has been compara- tively rare, and in the majority of these instances the deed has usually been the result of ‘anger, accident or mental aberration. In ‘many years there has not been, in this country @t least, any very remarkable instance of a morder of a father by his son or danghter, and even matricide, which ranks in the same category— ‘though it may, from the natural tenderness with ‘which motherhood is regarded, be considered astill Moreheinous act—is of comparatively much more frequent occurrence. There have been in the city of New York, within the past seven or eight years, some three or four cases of matricide, @ score of uxoricides, several fratricides and hun- dreds of homicides, and not one parricide—at least mone that have been determined to be such. At last, however, this rare and revoiting form of tragedy is added to the list of local murders, and there appears to be no form or excess of crime ‘with which the great metropolis is not to be made familiar. THE TRAGEDY. Mansfield Tracy Walworth, a well known gen- tieman of talent and position, was yesterday killed by his son, Frank H. Walworth. The circum- stances of the murder are so horrible, so appalling that they scarcely seem credible. Killed by his own son! by the being who ought to have cher- ashed and loved him beyond any one on earth! by the child to whom he gave life! The father lies ead ina pool of blood. The son walks coolly to the Police station and says, “I want to give myself up, asl have shot my father.” Prank H. Walworth arrived in this city on Mon- @ay afternoon from Saratoga. He‘is but a very young man. He is tall and lim, with large bine ‘eyes that are very frank and winning, a smooth face, fair complexion, light whiskers and refined features. No one to look at him would have thought that he could commit so terrible a crime. He smiled pleasantly as HE STEPPED UP TO THE DESK én the office of the Sturtevant House and asked the clerk—“Have you a room?” “Yes, sir,” the clerk replied. He registered his name, and was shown up to Ris room, No. 267, which is on the third foor, in the Tear wing of the hotel. He was pale and seemed tired. He sat dowa on the bed and mused awhile. ‘Then he rose and paced the room with rapid strides. He passed his hand through his hair ana ‘Was apparently plunged in deep thought. What ‘was he thinking of? Of the murder of his father, of his own fate after he would have committed the Seartal deed? There was a settled resolution on his face when he walked out, He went to the nouse where his father was boarding, in Fourth avenue, near Fity- fourth street, He was not at home, the servant girl said, in anewer to Frank’s inquir “Well, give him this note when he comes in,” the young man said, ‘‘will you, please 1’ ‘This was the note :— “I want to try and settle some family matters. ‘Call at the Sturievant House after an hour or two. Af 1am not there | will leave word at the of “FP, H. WALWORTH. ‘The servant gir) promised to give the note to Mr. Walworth, and he leit. He went back to the hotel, asked when they would have supper, and con- ‘verse for a short while with one of the clerks, He ate some supper and returned to kis room. He locked the door #0 as to remain Ondisturbed, and Jay down on the bed. He thought of all the misery in his tamily, of the separation of his parenta, of,his Jather’s conduct, of his mother’s sufferings, and be- came heavy at heartindeed, Then he rose and took & Colt's revolver out of his pocket. He held it’ against the light. Jooked at it steadily, “It is sure,” he said, “it never sajie,* He took out the chamber ana [ NEW YORK HERALD, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4, 1873.—TRIPLE SHEET. ‘There was ‘ 4 SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS, as if some one was approaching. “Who can that be?” he said, starting up. het” He listened, but the footsteps died away. It was 80 still there seemed nota breath stirring. He was alone with his thoughts. He laid his head on the pillow and tossed his hair from his forehead. Alter @ few minutes he rose again and looked out of the window, It was dark, and the bright stars glimmered in the sky. He gazed pensively at the sky, and the calm serene beauty of the scene seemed to have made adeep impression on his soul, He bowed his head in his hands and wept, ‘The hot tears scalded his cheeks and his whole frame was shaken by emotion. , and fixed his eyes sank on the He clutched the revolver on it calmly and steadily. again bed, After an hour he raised himself into a sitting posture and said, “He will probably come to- morrow morning.” He paced the room ali night long, and his lips Were constantly moving as if he were speaking io himself, “Morning, morning,” he said, with a sigh of agony, “if it were only moi ” And he added, after a pause, “If it were only done.” He Kept looking at the stars, which grew paler and paler, and a sense of the awful crime he was about to commit sank into his heart. At last he went down on his knees and prayed to Heaven. the moon went down and the sight of the first rays of the sun struck a chill through his frame. He ex- pected his father in a few hours, and then IT WOULD HAVE T0 BE DONE, At @ quarter past six o’clock Mr. Walworth came. He asked the clerk to send his card up to his son’s room. The bell-boy took the card up, and knocked, and a voice said, “Come in|’? The boy entered, but recoiled irom him when he glanced at his pale face, that seemed to have GROWN HAGGARD IN A NIGHT. There seemed to be a terrible light in his eye. He looked at the card, and said: ‘Show the gen- “Not tleman up.” . ‘The boy réturned witn thé answer, and Mr. Wal- worth walked quickly up to his son's room. He was in high spirits and hummed a tune as he as- cended the stairs. The morning was so beautiful, and health and strength were throbbing in bis pulse, He knocked. “Come in,”? a voice said, It was @ voice that fell with a familiar sound on his ear. He remem- bered it for many Feb It had once spoken to him in accents of affection and kindness. ‘the Jather entered the room. His eyes met those of hisson. They stood PACE TO PACE, The first rays of the sun lighted up their features. What a contrast! Here the smooth, soit face of the son; there the sober, manly countenance of the lather. The father extended his hand, but the son cast it of, The young man placed his back against the door AND DREW HIS PISTOL, which he pointed at his father’s breast. “For heaven’s sake, what do you mean?’ the fatner cried, placing his nand before ms breast, “Do you mean to murder met’? ‘The pistol was stilt poined, at his breast, and there was no mercy in the son’s face, “Think of what you are deing,”’ the father said. A pang shot across the son's face. “I know you are my father,” he muttered between his teeth, “but you must die.’? “Diel? the tather shrieked tn a yell of terror, Beit you called me here to murder me, your own father? He cocked the pistol, but now the brilliant rays of the sun streamed into the room, and the son’s face was visible in all its terrible fury. “May God have mercy on your soul, father; but Ihave none.”” The father trembled. His face became perfectly white with terror and cold drops of agony started from his brow. His lips quivered. “You have insul my mother,” the son pur- sued, his eyes FLASHING WITH RAGE; “you have threatened and insulted my mother.”? There was a motion of his finger, as if he was go- ing to pull the trigger. The father sunk on his nees. “Mercy!” he cried, “you cannot murder your father !”" “You have threatened and insulted both my mother and myself. Even if you would promise me not to do it again I could not believe you.” “IT promise it,” the father exclaimed, trembling in every limb. There was such agony in his ashy Jace that it would have pierced a heart of stone. But his son felt no mercy tor him. “You have Hed before and you could lie again. I cannot believe you,” was bis son’s answer. It was a solemn moment. There was the father on his knees praying his son to spare his lite, and there was the son pointing the revolver at his father’s breast. His eyes shone with a steady de- termination. bs “Father, you must die,” he said, prayer.” it was all in vain—no prayers, no entreaties Would move him. NOTHING BUT DEATH REMAINED, and the father bowed his head. The son listened calmly. He heard every word, and his grasp of the pistol did not relax. His eyes were fixed on those of his father. A flash—another, and the father staggered back as if struck by lightning. Three more sa0is, nd THE WORK WAS FINISHED. The murdered man raised his hands above his head and fell. + “My son,” he breathed faintly. A deadly pallor overspread his features; his breatuing was short and heavy. He was dying at the hand of him to whom he had given live and who bad so cruelly taken his own,. J “MY SON’ WERE HIS LAST WORDS. ‘The blood rained down from his iorehead and from his templee and trickled down on the face of the son. At last the dying man gave a gasp and fell to the floor. The young man looked calmly at the bloody form of his father and said, “Well, it’s done,” Then he walked quietly down stairs and said to the nignt clerk, “Will you have the goodness to teli me where the nearest police station is? I have killed Iny father, and want to give myself up.” He wrote ™ A DESPATCH TO HIS UNCLE, in Saratoga, telling him that he had killed his father, and asking him to break the news as gently as possible to lis mother. Then he walked to the Thirtieth street police station, Sergeant Keating was at the desk. “1 have come here to give myself up,” Frank Walworth said, in atone of the utmost coolness, “as Ihave shot my father,” He handed the ser- Geant the revolver. WALWORTH’S STATEMENT. At half-past ten Coroner Young and Dr. Marsh arrived, aud Walworth gave the following state- ment in reply to the Corener’s queries :— I reside with my mother in Saratoga, my father having parted from her some years ago. My father is an author, and Ihave been studying law. I think my father is about forty-one years old, but do not know where he was born. af 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 im the street in Saratoga, and I then told him that if he did not keep away from us, or insulted my mother any more, I would shoot him. I tola 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 @ note for him to call on me, which he did this morning. When he came into the room I drew outa revolver and told him to pro- mise 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 @ pistol, when I ot him. He then came towards me and I fired ree other shots at him. When I fired the last shot at him he had me by the collar. “Say your last have on my family. I would like Judge Barbour fice this, as he was interested in the case be- fore. When he had answered the Coroner's questions Walworth sent the following despatch to Chicago :— M.D, Hanprx, 162 La Salle street, Chicago :— Ishot rather this morning. ¥. N., WALWORTH, Dr. Marsh made AN EXAMINATION OF THE BOY of the murdered man, and found four bullets, one in each breast, one in the right side of the face, the ball lodging im the brain, and the fourth im the right arm, breaking it. ‘Ihe body was removed to No. 60 Carmine street, Where the HERALD reporter | saw it. The face bore an expression of great suffer- ing; the lips were slightly parted, and the wouna | in the forehead plainly showed the terrible death he had died. Frank Wulworth was removed to the Tombs. Officer Maloney, who went with him, asked hum several questions in regard to the murder, but he refused vo say anything. He smoked his agar and Spoke about the squares and streets which they passed and his having lorgetten most of their names. “I have seen a great many murderers,” the omcer told the HERALD reporter .ast evening, “but I never saw one who was so cool. He was Just as much excited as you are now.” Diagram of the Room Where the Mur- der@ook Place. ‘The room 267 18 @ somewhat small on, about nine by twenty. Its furniture consists of a wash- stand, bed, chair, stove gnd ‘looking glass. In the spot mentioned as © is the dead man. The imur- dered man stood with his back to the wall and in a cortier between the head of the bed and the washstand. Here there was no exit, no escape pos- sible for him. The 8°n stood before him and in front of the door, having pushed his father up to- wards the wall and perhaps afraid that he might escape by the door. The marble top of - stand was covered with clotted bod, the ‘par: dered man having leaned upon it while his tifeblood wasebbing away. There was alsoa quantity of blood which had trickled down the walle and no doubt from the wound to his arm. Bat more singu- lar than this, there Was aiso a quantity of blood on the opposite side of the washstand, about three leet away, Where it had apparently spurted, some being congeaied on the surlace of the marble and a babes beg in @ stil diquid condition under a ‘glass on the fartier ge of the washstand, The soap dish was hah Jal of blood, a8 Was also the toothbrush aish, I only regret this on account of the effect it will | which had mingled with the soap into a kind of Fon ai ange nat halle pinay Se @ hav’ ntly 8 gered forward a jew paces Rod" tal Ra sere there was a large quantity of blood, pesvens several quarts, which bad run through the carpet for a Space of about two feet in diameter. A towel also lay on the floor, saturated with the dead man’s wo0g, sire on bed was - hg (H bed Be . about the size of & where, evidently, on of the balls bad struck, his bail has not been found, however. Along the carpet over which the dead man was carried to the bed there were spots of blood on the carpet. The sheets had been re- moved from the }, but, with this exception, all was as it had been when the murder was com- mitted, The hat of the murdered man (a silk one and remarkably large) still bung on the hat rack, Otherwise there was nothing in the room to excite surprise or attention, In the remaining portion of it all was quiet and undisturbed. & Hy ‘A. Door to the roém where the murder took place. B. The washstand, where the murdered man en- deavored to;steady himself. ©. Spot where hie stood when the tatal shots were fired. 2 “pee where he jell, with his head resting in a pool ot blood. E. Hat rack, where Walworth hung his hat on enter- . The bed where the murdered man was placed im- ies after death, H 1 J STATEMENTS OF WITNESSES AND OTHERS, . Window, WAT where the son stood when he shot his father, Hallway. The Doctor's Story: One of the doctors who attended on the mur- dered man said that when he went up stairs to room 267 he found Mr. Walworth was not yet dead. He was lying on the floor with his nead on the carpet and gasping. 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 hisarm, He died in about a quarter of a minute after the Doctor went into the room. He was shortly after placed upon the bed. The Doctor sa; that qoung, Yalworth said when he was brought into the room something different from that re- ported elsewhere. The Doctor says that Walworth Teported the conversation between himself and father as follows :— WALWORTH THE Son (standing before his father) — You have — written letters to my mother threatening both her life and my own. Will you sclemaly: Promise never to make such threats again las £5 oe THE FaTHER—I do make that prom- re. WaLwortu THE SoN—You have also repeated the insult made to my mother. Do you promise to never use insulting language to my mother in? WaLWoRTH THE FaTneR—I do make such @ promise. WALWORTH THE Son (drawing the revolver and pointing it at his father)—You have made that promise before, and I do not believe you. You shall never have the opportunity of doing 80 again. And then the firing took place, without a mo- ment’s interval of hesitation. What the Hall Boys Say. Two hall boys in the Sturtevant House were connected with the affair indirectly. Ono, Willtam Amos, says that when Mr. Walworth asked to see his son he took the card up to room 267, “The son was in bed and did not answer at first. I then opened the door and looked in, Mr. Walworth took the card, and, looki dressed and tit hot stairs and told the father that his son wasn’t up, but would be down shortly, He waited. Pretty soon the bell of 267 rang, and I again answered the bell. Young Mr. Walworth then said, ‘Show the gencéman up.’ Idid this, and when I opened the aoor and showed the father in the son was sit- ting on the bed, dressed and with his haton. He looked quiet enough, but not in good humor. I went out and closed the door. went down slowly, and before I got to the bottom of the last stairs I heard the bell from one of the rooms rinj furiously. I afterwards found it was No. 268, It wasn’t a minute after that young Mr. Walworth came down the stairs and went up to the desk. ae clerk told me to go for apoliceman andI 80, The hall boy, John, says that when the bell ot 268 rang so \uriously seven or eight of the indica- tors were pulled open, probably because the wires got entangled by being pulled so hard. Iran up the stairs as fast as I could do to room 268. Mr. Ebert, a cotton merchant, lives in 268, and it was he who rang so hard. He wouldn’t open his door, but shouted from the inside that murder was goin, on in the next room. I then went to the room an opened the door, I saw the murdered man lying on his side and bleeding profusely from several wounds. The washstand was covered with blood, and the wall also, I saw that Mr. Walworth was breathing yet, but as I could do nothing I ran down stairs and gave the alarm. Mr. Walworth, the son, had preceded me, and was standing by the clerk’s desk, quite cool and col- jected, but not saying anything. I told the clerk what I saw, and he told the Doctor, who went right up stairs, The Clerk’s Statement, Mr. Barratt, ene of the clerks at the Sturtevant House, spoke as follows :— I am acquainted with young Mr. Walworth. He came here yesterday afternoon and registered himself on the blotter. He wrote with a firm, even hand and did not appear to be at all nervous, I gave him room 267 on the third floor. He then went out and returned to dinner. He asked for his key early in the evening and then went up stairs. I noticed nothing peculiar in his way of acung, but thought he jooked the same as usual. He was calm and collected and spoke on indifferent topics as any ordinary man will do who is in posses- sion of all his faculties, I was on duty in the morn- ing when Mr. Walworth, Sr., came in and sent up his card. Nothing led me to think anything was wrong until Mr. Walwork, the son, came walking be stairs and came up to the desk, He said, coolly :— “T have shot my father |’? “What!” Lexclaimed. “You don’t mean that ?" “Yes, | mean it.. | have shot him, and I want you to send for a policeman.” He then said something more about family trouble, that I did not understand, and I called a hall boy up and told him to go and get a policeman. He did so, and came back with one a few moments alter, In the meantime I told the doctor to go ap to thé room, while Mr. Walworth stood by the desk saying nothing, but waiting patiently. When the policeman came in he again said he had shot his Jather and wanted wo give himself up. The police- man thén invited him to accempany him to the station house, which he did, A glance at the entry of the name on the blotter proved what the clerk had said. “Frank H. Wal- worth” was written on the page in a bold, free hand, and showed not the slightest nervousness in the writer when it was trace: on the book. Enter Uni ker. At About ten o'cl the utidertaker’s wagon, from Sentor & Benedict's, in Carmine street, drove up to the door of the hotel. The large ice cof n 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 tts dead freight, was again placed in the on, which rapidly drove away. hen in the undertakers establishment it was disrobed and washed and placed in a preserving coilin to await the disposition which the famil, may choose to make of it. It now lies in the bac room of the store, white and stark; but the process of decomposition was said by the doctors who saw it to have already set in,, pwing to the fact that the dead man had been strong and heaitny and in the ull vigor of life. In snceu @ case the juices of the body decompowe almost immediately. Iworth’s Publishers. Carleton & Co, were the publishers of Mansfield Tracy Walworth’s ke. A reporter cailed m yesterday to obtain My particulars they might know. The partner in the house alone was m, He sald that Mr. Walworttr- caled in very ence in months, and that he never of bia domestic troubies in way. some trouble in his family, but as ver spoke of it they never did. of bis books had been very as had been serally'reporteds Rave arcing of Dis lust book. “The Lives. of the Bix, Chancellors,” and did not believe that it a Sh: or any part ofit. They always thought of Mr. Walworth, = ‘was lair m his dealings and apparently wel: to 10. Interview with Mr. Perry. A reporter saw Mr. Perry, one of the editors of the Home Journal. This gentleman said that Mr. Walworth had written some sketches at one time continuously for their paper, bat had not done any writing for them since last year. Mr. Perry said the murdered man was, at the time of his death, engaged on a® story for the New York Weekly, which was not concluded, As far as family troubles were concerned, Mr, Perry said that Mr. Walworth did not say much outsiue. He had Not spoken to bim about them to any extent.’ He knew he hed a yy with his wife, and that they Were separated, but further than this he knew little, He had never met the som, but heard that he was very devoted to his mother. Mr. Walworth was of Aquiet disposition, and apparently a well meaning man. He did not know that there was any open feud in the family—in fact, anything which would be likely to create such @ tragedy a8 this, He always heard of Mrs, Walworth as a most eatimable Isdy, oe oe SB vuthe Judge Barbour’s Emotion. ‘The venerable Judge Barbour was holding o court in the Superior Court, No. 2, when one of the counsel stepped up to him and informed him of the killing of Mansileid Tracy Walworth by his son. Judge Barbour immediately gave way to an emo- tion he eould not control, He leaned his head on the desk for a few monient#and then said, “Gentle- men, we Will adjourn the Court for to-day,’ and he then tottered down the steps, so that he had to be helped out of the court room, He then im- mediately 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 tl he was a prisoner at the Twenty-ninth precinct station house he asked where it ai and immediately repaired there, where he and Juage had a long conference with the young man. Judge Barbonr’s wife is a cousin of Mansfeld Tracy Walworth. He was very intimate and in constant intercourse with all the family, and knew their feuds, and looked upon them in the light of his dearest friends, IN THE TOMBS. About five o'clock last evening a reporter visited the Tombs to learn what disposition had been made of the young parricide, It was after the hours during which visitors are admitted to the prison, and there was no opportunity to see Walworth, Earlier in the day a reporter had called and re- quested an interview, but the prisoner declined re- ceiving any person whatever, save a gentleman who called about half-past three o'clock and rep- resented himself to be the counsel of the newly in- carcerated man. He was admitted to his cell and remained with his client for nearly an hour, after which he left. None of the attachés of the Tombs recognized the gentleman. WALWORTH REACHED THE PRISON between half-past two and three o’clock, in custody ofa single policeman. He was attired in a sult of light colored Spring clothing, and had also a Spring overcoat of light colorand texture, He had none of the appearances of a prisoner, “You might say he came down here himself,” said a keeper to the reporter, “He walked in free and quietin manner, There was no excitement about him, and I tell you it’sarare thing to see a man come in here a8 easy and offaanded as he did,” THE OORONRE’S COMMITMENT. The officer presented @ writ, of which the follow- ing is a copy :— TEMPORARY COMMITMENT, Om. and County of New York, sa, ‘0 THY KxxPER OF THE City Parson tN sarD CITY :— in THR Name oF THE PRoPLE OF THE Stati New Yor. You are hereby commanded to recelve into your saKeod o and safely keep for EXAMINATION, the ly of F. Walwo charged with paying Pau the death of T. Walw NELSO! , YOUNG, Coroner, ‘New York Coroner's office, June 8, 1873. The prisoner was duly tered vy the clerk at the desk, and in a min&te afterward passed through the grated doo! ich were toshut him out from the world. He passed with a quicl thoughtless pace through the prison yard, waite into the main prison bu: Leap me the clan! iron door that i up to the aron gallery in the corridor was opened for him. In two minutes more the door of cell No. 67 was opened to him, and he stepped imside without oat sitation, bein, obliged to stoop as he ente! eects oO! the lowness of the Soca cellison the north gorner of the corridor, rear or Elm street side, and was furnished simply with a cot and stool, the bed being provided with the ordl- _ pay prison clothing. Tne door was then closed om m. After an interval of about an hour Walworth was removed to io en » Spptaer” CORLL NO. 44, jin the southern wing of the corridor, bat on the same tier. This brings him into the neighborhood of the notables who occupy “Murderers' Row,” and his feliow residents on the same block of habi- tations are Sharkey, Scannell, King and some other subjects of sanguinary fame. In this cell also the furniture is of the same plain description. When left alone Walworth took off his light overcoat and gat down on the miserable bed, alone with his thoughts. Up to six o'clock he ho, the bed, thinking deeply, but ae wise de! {n spirits. He made no requests to the prison officials for food or extra paraphernalia, two candles being the only things furnished him, oJ YOUNG WALWORTH SILENT. Shortly before six o’clock the reporter wrote a series of eight questions to the prisoner, which were hoe Mh! to him by one of the keepers, with @ request that, 1t unobjectionable, he would make either written or verbal reply. When the keeper presented the questions, to- gether with the reporter’s personal card, Wal- worth was seated on the bed. Without rising he listened to the keeper’s explanation 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 Tam advised by my counsel not to hold any communication with any one?” WHAT THE PRISONER'S COUNSEL SAY, When in court yesterday morning Mr. William A. Beach received a telegram from Saratoga asking him to take the case of Mr. Frank H. Walworth in charge, and await the arrival of his mother, Mrs. Ellen Harden Walworth, who was to have arrived in town last evening, Ashe was engaged at the time he sent bis son, Mr. Milgs Beach, to see the young man, A HERALD reporter called on Mr. Miles Beach at his residence, 31 West Filty-third street, to obtain from him the prisoner's story. Mr. Beach said that he had said little or nothing of the a/fair, and that he merely went there to tell him that his folks knew of the occurrence, and had asked him to defend him. He also told young Walworth that his people were coming down from Saratoga Springs, and would in all probability see him in the morning. He did not think it proper to speak at any length as to details to his client, satisfying himsel! with IMPOSING STRICT SILENCE upon him, Ex District Attorney Garvin, who has also been retained for the prisoner, was called upon. Mr. Garvin was well acquainted with the Walworths; he had met Mrs, Walworth several times, and trom his own experience and hearsay he knew her to be an estimable lady. He knew the Chancellor, and was on intimate terms with him. His acquaint- ance with Mansfield Tracy Walworth was slight, and he never had, to his Knowledge, seen his son before yesterday. ‘Mr. Garvin said he’ had a sort of general idea that Walworth treated his wife in A SHAMEFUL MANNER, but not knowing him in his family relations he could say nothing positive aboutit. He had heard from several intimate iriends of the family that his con- duct towards his wife was scandalous and brutal. He had also heard many people talk of the great love ail the children had for the mother, especially | Frank, whose devotion was something extraordi- nary in a young man. Frank, even before the father and mother were separated, used to notice his mother’s dejection, and on many occasions tried to conciliate his parents, but it is said his father looked upon his kindly offices as pieces of unparalleled tmpudence, and rudely rebuffed him, suggesting that he attend to his books and let his father’s business alone, This course of treatment was not Ener 00 inspire confidence in the son, and his mother’s kind words were all that could heal THE CRUEL WOUNDS his father had@ infitcted, You! Walworth had few Iriends outside of his family; his mind was centred on his mother, and the end of his life seemed to be to fill the voidin her existence caused by his father’s harah treatment. Mrs. Walworth obtained a divorce from her husband about two years ago, and the custody of the children was awarded to her. The charges on which she gained the sult Was harsh treatment, A myriad of wit- nesses proved the charges, and many for the de. fence were compelled to acknowledge that Wal worth’s conduct was anything other than kind. Mr. Garvin said that Mr. Walworth’s brother, a gen- tleman of high culture, who resides in Troy, thought that his conduct was not at ail becoming a genticman or a father, WALWORTH’S LAST EVENING. Mansfeld Tracy Walworth spent bis last evening as usual with iriends in Fity-tiird street, between | Jaxington and Third avenues, He was in the habit of calling frequently during hie leiscre hours at the office of ex-Alderman Tuomey, who keeps @ livery stable in the locality, and from whom he. would frequently take a horse and earriage to drive. On Tuesday night, about half- past nine o'clock, he came on 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 reflection thap usual. Mr. Tuomey told the HERALD reporter the incidents of the occasion and the Precise words which poor Walworth gave expres- sion to, “We were together at the door of the drug store," said Mr. Tuomey, “and remained there until nearly ten , o'clock. He (Mr. Walworth) spoke as usual about his writings, 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 he replied, ‘About seven.’ ‘Without any recreation? “Oh, yes,’ he said; ‘I take the remain- ing hours for recreation, and look after the publica- tion of my writings in the meantime,’ We then chat- ted,” continued Mr, Tuomey, “over the last con- cert of the Maennerchor, a German musical asso- aren organized by the young men of the neigh- i) TH WHOM MR. MANSFIELD Asgoge a & good deal, juenting their clubs and entertain- ments, and by whom he was not only well thought of, but almost reve! for his gentile and affable disposition and his Kindness in very often = writing of their concerts and glee par To all this he referred only in a quiet, indifferent manner last evening. He was often five and seven minutes without speaking, and it struck me he was more gloomy and troubled than he ever beiore appeared. He Was always amiable in conversation and MOST GENTLEMANLY TO ALL He was not an intemperate man, but would fre- quently take a quiet drink—sometimes alone and often our company, Me always looked neatly dressed, yet there was something in his counte- hance which overshadowed the man with mystery, and it was, perhaps, on this account that he showe on certain occasions slight traces of dissipation, I do not say from drink—it may have been from secret troubles or continual writing or reaing. He was about five feet nine inches high and weighed about one hundred and ninety pounds, and he told a& few of us, @ short time ago, that he was between forty-one and torty-two years of age. His deportment was always gentlemanly. He used to walk across here by Filty-third street almost every evening in a sad, pensive manner. In conversation he Was more of an observer and thinker than @ conversationalist, He took .- THE LASt GLASS OP BEER i with me,” said Mr, Tuomey, in a sympathetic tone; “it was @ glass of root beer in the drugstore. He had been asked to drink several times afterwards and before, but he refused. He seemed enveloped in thought for along 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 some- thing of his father at one time, but so brief and indistinctly that we never thought over it. There was always something mysterious about him, aw oie he enioyed and k partin ajoke as well as oters, We, of course—I mean Drs, Laber and Kirscht, | Mr. Robinson and myself—knew him durfaz the past couple of years, and enjoyed his refined conversation’ and acquaintancesht) Peal i We attributed his quiet, characteristic, and I might add unfathom- able manner to those peculiarities which are gen- erally noticed in men of talent, consequently we neither knew: his nee nor did we think there was any occasion of trying to interpet them. He FOND OF RETIREMENT, and loneliness toa great extent. He told me he Spent a pleasant afternoon tn 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 tome 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 said they were savored of some presclence of his unhappy Yat 9? 4 binson, & gentleman resident in the neighborhood of Fifty-thira street and Third ave- nue, told the reporter that Walworth on Mond: evening chatted very freely with him. He said, “ asked him to drink some root beer, but he would he took with A what he did. He beautiful lines of poetry, I forget them now, and repeated hem very feelingly. 1 know the last words; they were, ‘Beware, take care.’ He said these words twice before 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 Lex- ington avenue. I saw him. I went out with him.” ir, Laber, who was present, replied, “Yes; but don’t you remember, Robinson, I suggested to him to make you the hero of his new story, and he said he would 7” THE FAMILY TROUBLES. you A reporter saw a gentleman at the Fifth Avenue Hotel yesterday afternoon who, having been a resident of Saratoga for many years, was very well acquainted with circumstances of the Walworth family and the causes of estrangement which existed between its different members. From his statement it appears that Mrs. Walworth (the widow of the murdered man) was a Miss Nelly Hardin, daughter of Colonel Hardin, of Kentucky, who was killed at the battle of Buena Vista in, Mexico, Ho was oné ‘ofthe best known fien In the State of Kentucky, and wielded a powerful in- fluence. Miss Nelly, his daughter, was known as the belle of Kentucky, and, was exceedingly beautiful. After the ‘eath of “the Colonel the wife rent to Chancellor Walworth, the | father of the man now murdered, to settle | some contest about the estate of the late Colonel. It ended by the Chancellor marrying the widow. This naturally brought the daughter Nelly and | Mansfield ‘tracy Walworth constantly together. ‘The result was that they were married in Saratoga and continued to reside there. For some years they were happy, but it soon became apparent that the marriage was to be an unbappy one. During the first years Mansfield Tracy, the husbana, was kind and gentle to his wife, but after that he began, it is said, to be WILD AND ERRATIC. this condition to that extent that it soon became a At first he took her remonstrances in good part, but did not cure himself of his unfortunate habit. He would go home at night almost always ina state of drunkenness, and it finally got so bad that he would abuse his wife, and on one or two occa- sions he went so far as to strike her. She resented this in the most decided manner, and appealed to the Chancellor to protect her and her children from the brutalities of his son. The Chancellor attempt- ed lo set matters right, but only succeeded partly. This was at the time when he himself was engaged in THE GREAT SPIKE IRON SUIT. he had ample means to support himself and fam- lily. The father, however, contributed largely to- ward this until it became a burden upon him and he retused to do so any longer. Indeed, after re- peatedly setting matters right between husband and wife he grew tired of the affair and threatened to repudiate his son entirely. This had n@ effect, and the son began to add to the vice of drunken ness that of infidelity. He would leave Saratoga for days, and for nobody knew where. After some time Mrs. Walworth found out that her husband York, and that he was unfaithful to her, victim of @ mad infatuation for drink, but she had the fond hope that at all events the father of her chiidren was true to her. he was not so almost broke her heart. For some time she kept the matter secret in her own bosom and breathed not a word to a living soul of the dis- covery she had made. She made still further en- deavors to reclaim her husband and bring him back to bis home and fireside, but found it to no pu ose. He was evidently determined to conti 18 mad career and cared not a jot where brought a he refuse VILEST LANGUAGE TO HIS WIFE. One night he came home in a drunken condition and began to ili-treat her. She resented the insults that were cast upon her and threw back in his teeth the knowledge she had of his doings in New He York, Then an explosion took place, but none can tell what happened. Old resi- dente of Saratoga are iamiliar with all these facts, But from this point Waiworth seemed not to care who knew of his doings. He continned his intoxicated habits, and not only came to New York to see women but went around publicly with well known lewd women in Saratoga ‘until it became @ public disgrace in the little town, He had no regard for his tamily or himself, and soon —- the name of being a reckless libertine ii debauchee, Still the wife, for reasons best own to herself, continued to live with him, her heart probably callous to whatever he might do #0 long 48 he neither injured herself nor her children. About the time of the opening of the war mat- ters had come to A VERY BAD Page. when suddenly the great sait in which he had been clerk 01 reference #60 long wbruptiy terminated, He He was in the habit of getting constantly intoxi- | cated and going about the streets of S ratoga in | public scandal in the place. With gentle remonstrance the wife endeavored to free her husband from these habits. | as a clerk of reference, at $5,000 per year, so that | was in continued intercourse with @ woman in New | Hitherto | the wife had considered that her husband was the | The discovery that | yoon the family, writing abusive letters making She pleaded with him to reform and | He was in the habit of using the i} had been In the position he held for abont fifte Fg He then interceaed with hts tather to procure uD HOE IneaNs Of livelihood, and the Chancellor relented and used his influence im Washin; in’ to obtain for him a governmental position. was appointed to position in the Stace Department in ‘aahington, which he held for some time. A part of this time the wife went Soutir to Kentucky, but returned to her husband in Washington, ‘Tings were going on more smoothly with lim here, and the family were getting on better. This 13 ac- unted for by the fact that, having a responsibie Mice under the government, he was naturally obliged to keep more decorons ‘and guarded in his Loge conduct. They lived privately together with he children, and the wife had probably not so much to complain of in his treatment to her or she would no doubt have left him. Some of his att a tin a arenes and for a time appy. But the time w: not long distant when al) was to be set worse wan ever, and when the events would begin which 8 finally lead to the terrible tragedy of yes- ferday. Walworth went daily to his work, and ‘Was 80 diligent, indeed, that it was a matter ot surprise to all who had known him that he had so com lefely hig mode of hile, He id not, by any m the same reputation in Washington as he had:! in Sarai but, on the contrary, was known a6 @ sober industrious gentleman. Suddenly, it ts alleged, the proofs were found that Walworth had been for some time using the means his position in the State Department furnished him with to give secret INFORMATION TO of what was goin; CONFEDERATE AUTHORITIES Wor baat wed fed in hangin’ He re Be rested, and it wor ve, no dou! e very hard with him had not the Chancellor (nis father) in exerted, his ingagnce, in his son’s favor. Mansfeld 'y Walworth, ih Cohsequence of See pears being used, was ordered to report at toga, ana was jorbidden to leave the precincts of the town; im fact, he was @ prisoner of State, and was guarded as such, In this diMicalty his wife re- mained true vo him, and helped to viate his dis- race. Returned to the town of his former i- lence, however, Walworth broke out in the old Way, and again the old troubles len both with wine and women, the informant told the reporter. Mrs. Walworth bore on with him in patience; and, whatever may have been his causes of complaint, the residents of Sara’ uphold the wile in all that passed between the two. When the war ended Walworth was released ag a prisoner and per- Le EL fale ged Mg th Lyn pleased, res natur: in NO wise stopped his excesses, an: indeed, only added to them. For a-time husband and wife lived in this city, bas returned to Sara- toga. It then became evident that the troubies between them were culminating. CHANCELLOR WALWORTH DIED, leaving, it is said, nothing either to his son, Mans- field Tracy, or to hisdaughter-in-law. His death, it appears, broke what bonds there were between them, and Mrs. Walworth, determined to live no longer with her husband, left him and shortly after procured a divorce on the ground of adultery and il-treatment. She went South to Kentucky, her old home, taking the children with her. She was poor and he was r, and, after staying in Ken- tucky some time she returned and going to Wash- ington, obtained a position as femate clerk in the Treasury Department, owing to the influence of her own family. In this position she remained for, two years, in Meantime supporting her lamily of two sons and two daughters on her limited salary. This was about five years ago. For two long years she remained toiling from morning to night and day by 4 in this manner, while her husband added to his fame as an author and novel- ist, Novela acre time, however, 1t appears he did not molest her in any way. {ter thus working for two years, Mrs, Walworth returned to Saratoga and’ establisked a young ladies’ seminary at the old homestead of Chancellor Walworth in that place. Here she succeeded in building up & reputation for the school, and goon made it @ paying and flourishing institution. Man, Tich families, knowing the reputation of the Wal- worth family, and themselves going to the cele- brated watering place in Summer, have sent their Lae lee there, and Mrs. Walworth would, no doubt, have been a happy women in the compan- jonship of her children, had it not been for her aay troubles. it was while she was here that Mr. Walworth began to write threatening letters to her, In not simply one letter, but many, he used violent language and said both she and her children must die by his hand, and that some day she would be surprised by his geing to kill her. Whether Mrs. Walworth really believed these threats or not does not appoar. ‘But the husband it is said, finding these letters did uot produce enongh effect, began to write insulting letters his divorced wife, impugning her virtue and making some statements calculated w bring into doubt the legitimacy of her childrem. These stung her to the quick, and it was in consequence of these that the son who yesterday murdered his father, meeting him in the streets of saratoga, forced hin to promise he would never either threaten or in- sult his mother again, Mansfeld Tracy. Walworth then mado A SOLEMN PROMISE not to dosoagain. It was only lately that the son, finding that these insults upon his mother’s fair fame and name were beginning once more, came to New York and enacted the terrible deed with which he stands charged to-iay. Mrs. Walworth, on the other hand, says that she knew nothing of any such intention, but fluding two envelopes ad- dressed to her in her son’e room, she supposed he intercepted some of the letters addressed to her, and then determined. on his terrible course. He left the house entirely unknown to her, From another informant the reporter learned that Walworth was charged with having ence ot late years endeavored to break into a young ladies’ school, with devilish purposes, Whether this schoel was the one kept by the wife was not. stated by the informant. ‘These are simply the stories of those who clainr tobe perfectly well acquainted with the family, andy¥who, apparently have no interest in mis- statements. ether they are entirely correct can only Sppear an more extended and probably judicial examifiation. AT THE WACWOR'H HOME. Saratoaa, N, Y., June 3. ‘The news of the death of Mansfeld T, Walworth, youngest son of the late Chancellor Waiworth, at the hands of his own son, Frank, was first received here this morning in a private despatch to James H. Breslin, of the Grand Union Hotel, and soow spread throughout the viliage, causing much ex- citement. Tae first news of the tragic affair was communicated to the unfortunate wife and mother about eleven o’ciock, by W. B. Trench and D, F. Richie, friends of hers. They called tozether and found her engaged in her school, They soon broke the sad intelligence, 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 ala in defending him. Mrs, Walworth is a daugh- ter of Colonel Hardin, who at Buena Vista, and a sister of General M. D. Hardin, of the United States Army. A younger brother is @ planter in Kentucky. The late Chancellor Wal- worth married the widow of Colonel Hardin, and it was while members of the same family that the acquaintance between Mansfield Walworth and Miss Nellie Hardin was foriaed which ripened into their marriage. Alter the marriage they lived a while with the Chancellor, and together joined the | Roman Catholic Church. THE MARRIAGE WAS NOT A HAPPY ONE in all respects, Mansfield being dissolute, while his. wife was of a domestic character. Mansfleid would leave his family at times and be absent for quite long intervals. When the war of the rebellion commenced he went to Washington and had a clerkship in the War Department, but after a time he was found to be engaged in communicating valuable intelligence to the rebels, through 3 woman with whom he was intimate, For this of- fence he was thrown into the Old Capitol Prison, frum whence he was released as A PRISONER ON PAROLE and sent to Saratoga, where his father had to send a written report of his presence to the War De- partment every day. ince the death of his lather Mansfieid has been more dissolute than be- fore, spending the property of his wite as well as his own, 80 that fuaily Mrs. Walworth was obliged tocome here, about three years ago, and open @ school, in the old Walworth homestead, for the support of her family, Frank, the oldest of six children, obiaining @ clerkship in the Canal De- partment to aid in supporting his mother an younger brothers and sisters. About two yet ago a separation, such as the Catholic Church mits, instead of a divorce, was obtained by Mrs, worth from her husband. Mansfeld, some years ago, commenced writing novels. His first one, entitled, “Lulu,” contained descriptions of mem- vers of his own famtiy and neighborhood, drawn so that they were easily recognized and made subjects of unfavorable comments. In his last book be claimed to have made himself the hero and, as is alleged, SLANDERED HIS WIFE, by stories Whied Rave ares pain to all familiar with the truth. Since Mrs. Walworth returned here with her family Mansfield has tried to force himself threats and containing vile slanders and insinua- tions against his wife, threatening also to kill his son, who defended the mother. Some of the letters fell into the hands of Frank, and on ay morn- ing he left his home leaving word with a domestic for his mother not to worry if he did not return at night. He took the cars to New York, itis supposed, to see if he could not in some way pat a stop to these annoyances. The sympathies of the whole town are with the unfortunate wife and mother, who has been so sadly bereaved, and with the loving and faithiul son. Father Clarence Walworth, the eldest brother of the deceased, for many years a Catholic priest in Albany, arrived here at half- ast three and Called on his sister-in-law, and by his advice she refused to see or communicate with Ay one on the subject. Father Walworth and. Mfrs. Walworth left by the evening train for New York. EXCITEMENT IN THE CITY. a ‘The story of the Walworth tragedy, a8 soon as it became generally known yesterday aiternoon, | created the most intense excitement. Since the | day of the Fisk murder indeed no such excitement | has been seen tn this city over any single event, ‘The evening papers with their meagre details were CONTINUED ON SIXTH PAGE, |