A Secret Life_ The Lies and Scandals of President Grover Cleveland - Charles Lachman [20]
Grover never attended church in Buffalo, but he made an effort to accompany his mother to services whenever he stayed in Holland Patent. Mrs. Cleveland considered everything there was to know about the Patrick Morrissey case. As a good Christian, she told Grover, she could not countenance the execution of a man, even someone who had murdered his own mother. She advised her son to delegate the hanging to a subordinate. But this was one time when Grover had to disagree with his mother.
Even though the law gave Cleveland the authority to appoint a surrogate in his place as executioner, for a $10 fee, he returned to Buffalo determined to carry out his duty himself. He ordered the gallows to be constructed in the courtyard of the county jail, which took only an afternoon. On the night before the hanging, Morrissey read the Bible, prayed, and fell into a fitful sleep at one in the morning on September 6. He awakened four hours later and got dressed. At 9:00 a.m., onlookers started to gather for the hanging. Some parents brought their children. But a force of twenty-five police officers arrived and sent everyone home. To his credit, Cleveland had done everything he could to make sure the hanging did not degenerate into a public spectacle.
Morrissey’s three sisters and a brother-in-law had pooled their funds to buy a beautiful black walnut coffin. It was delivered to the jail. Eerily, there was already a silver plate on the coffin’s lid with the following inscription:
Patrick Morrissey
Died Sept. 6, 1872
Aged 28 Years
That morning, Cleveland appeared grim, even despondent—“not his old self.” He looked as if he had not slept all night. For ten weeks, since Ann Morrissey’s murder, he had known this day was coming. A deputy, Richard Harris, pulled Cleveland aside and informed him that instead of breakfast that morning, he had drunk several glasses of brandy. Slurring his words, he said he was volunteering to take Cleveland’s place and send the condemned man to eternity. The task was something that he could perform without having it haunt him for the rest of his life, Harris said.
“That job’s up to me, Mr. Sheriff,” Harris insisted.
Cleveland, with a cluster of deputies surrounding him, listened, met Harris’s eyes, and shook his head: “No, I have to do it myself. I am the sheriff.”
At 11:43 a.m., Morrissey was taken from his cell and escorted down the corridor toward the yard. On his way, he bid farewell to the other prisoners; and when he reached the cell of John Gaffney, he stopped and begged the deputies to let him embrace his friend. They shared an exceptional connection; in just twenty-one days, Gaffney was to be hanged for shooting a gambler to death during a game of draw poker. It was Morrissey’s last request. Everyone looked at Undersheriff Smith for guidance. He silently nodded his consent. Gaffney’s cell door was opened, and he stepped out. The two condemned men embraced and sobbed, kissing as they held each other until they were pulled apart.
The execution was set for noon. At 11:57 a.m., Cleveland led Morrissey into the yard, where sixty witnesses, appointed by Cleveland, were waiting. The noose was already around the prisoner’s neck. A Catholic priest, Father Malloy, stood at Morrissey’s side and chanted the death service: “Even though I walk in the valley of death, I shall fear no evil . . .” Cleveland took his place at the foot of the gallows, his hand resting on the lever that would unbolt the trapdoor. When Morrissey was asked whether he had any last words, Father Malloy handed him a folded sheet of paper. Morrissey opened it and read.
“I have no words but these to say. I am about to die on this scaffold, and God above knows how guilty I am. I hope my sad end will be a warning to all young men and determine them to keep away from liquor, to abandon all evil associations, and attend to their religious duties.” It certainly sounded as if a priest had written it. Then