Confederate Soldier - "Robert C Kennedy was tried as a spy for his part in the setting of numerous fires in New York City in November, 1864. Places burned by him and others (who were never tried) included a number of hotels and Barnum's Museum. He was executed on Governor's Island. He was buried in an unmarked grave on the island in New York Harbor. All of the bodies buried on the island were disinterred in the late 1870's and re-buried in Cypress Hills. It is probable that he is buried in an unmarked grave in the National Cemetery " - John F Walter
CLEVELAND MORNING LEADER
Cleveland, Ohio
Published March 29, 1865
Page 2, Column 3 and 4
-------------------------
"EXECUTION OF KENNEDY.
Robert Cobb Kennedy, the Spy and Hotel Burner, Executed at Fort Lafayette...Extraordinary Conduct of the Condemned..He Dies Singing a Song...His Confession.
We take the following, in reference to the execution of Robert Cobb Kennedy, the rebel spy and hotel-burner, at Fort Lafayette, on Saturday, from the New York “Herald”, “Evening Post”, and “Times”.
The “Herald” of Sunday has the following:
BIOGRAPHY OF THE CULPRIT.
Kennedy was a native of Georgia, but was brought up in Louisiana. He entered the Military Academy at West Point in 1854, but left it two years afterwards, and
returning to his home in Louisiana, lead the life of a planter. He was among the first to enter the rebel service when the rebellion broke out. He was one of
the chief conspirators in the attempt to fire the city last fall, and was detected in trying to burn Barnum's Museum at an hour when its destruction would
have involved the loss of a large number of lives. The incendiary's flight to Canada, in order to avoid arrest, and his subsequent return to Detroit and capture there by the detectives, are too fresh in the minds of our readers to need recapitulation. Suffice it to say that he was brought to this city, tried before a military commission, and condemned to die yesterday, by order of Major
General Dix, commander of the Department of the East.
In person the condemned was about five feet eight inches high, light build, with brown eyes, and hair and whiskers of the same color. He was usually attired in a suit of gray cloth, and his general air was that of an educated and well-bred person.
THE MORNING OF THE EXECUTION.
Kennedy rose from his bed about seven o'clock, apparently but little refreshed by his sleep. The chaplain was early in attendance and unremitting in his efforts to comfort the culprit, who was by no means resigned to his fate. The
prayers for condemned prisoners, according to the services of the Protestant Episcopal Church, were read by the clergyman, and every effort was made to minister to the wants of the unhappy man.
HIS INTERVIEW WITH HIS COUNSEL.
Colonel Stroughton, who acted as the prisoner's counsel on the trial, visited the condemned, in company with General Beale, of the rebel army. They found the prisoner much dejected, but he cheered up when they spoke to him, and tried to be as lively as the circumstances of his case would permit. When cutting off a lock of his hair, however, and handing it to General Beale to be delivered to his friends as a memento, he broke down, and shed tears as freely as a child. He begged that General Beale would remain with him until the last, and upon receiving an assurance in the affirmative he seemed to regain his lost spirit, and was cheerful again.
THE EXECUTIONER VISITS THE CULPRIT.
The executioner visited the prisoner's cell during the forenoon, for the purpose of finding out his weight, height, &c., so that he might arrange the gallows
accordingly. The hangman tried to get the desired information by a little piece of strategy, that the prisoner's feelings might not be hurt; but Kennedy was so
gruff with him that he was thrown off his guard and unwittingly revealed the object of his visit. Kennedy did not relish the executioner’s visit much; but nevertheless he gave him the desired information in regard to his weight and height, saying he weighed about one hundred and thirty-five pounds, and was about five feet eight inches in height. The table at which the prisoner sat was
strewn with writing materials, books, letters, &c. The prisoner had also an abundant supply of tobacco on hand, there being no less than four packages on the table, besides what he carried in his pockets.
The “Evening Post”, of Saturday, describes the closing scenes of the execution
as follows:
SCENES IN KENNEDY'S CELL.
At 12:55 o'clock, Colonel Burke, the commandant of the fort, Marshall Murray and his deputy, the executioner, and two reporters for New York newspapers, entered the cell of the condemned man (No. 2, the same recently occupied by Joseph Howard, Jr.).
General Beale (the rebel officer now on parole in this city to provide supplies for rebel prisoners), Captain Wilson and Chaplain Burke, of fort Hamilton, were
found in the cell with Kennedy.
As Marshal Murray entered the cell, Kennedy rose from a table at which he had been writing, and the following colloquy ensued.
Marshal Murray--I have come to prepare you for the execution.
Kennedy--I know what your errand is. I prepared for it. I am ready.
[The executioner here approached the prisoner.]
Kennedy--(to the executioner)--I don't know you; I don't know who you are.
[General Beale here approached Kennedy, speaking in a low voice, and apparently endeavoring to restrain him.]
Kennedy (turning to the officers)--All right! I am prepared for this thing. Bind my arms.
Kennedy then turned to one of the reporters, and begged him to do full justice to his memory in the account he was to write.
He then said farewell to Captain Wilson, and requested him to give his pipe to General Beale, to forward to his mother.
Turning to the company, Kennedy then spoke as follows:
"This is hard for you d--d Yankees to treat me this way. I have been a regular soldier."
The executioner now began to bind Kennedy's arms. While this was in progress, Kennedy asked General Beale for a handkerchief, and used it. When the black cap
was placed upon his head, he asked, "Am I going to wear this thing to the gallows?" The answer was "Yes."
The preparations being now complete, the procession formed in line, and as it passed out the cell door, Kennedy turned to General Beale, with the remark:
"This is cowardly murder."
MARCHING TO THE GALLOWS.
About five minutes past one o'clock the procession marched to the gallows, Chaplain Burke and Lieutenant Black, officer of the day, walking first followed by Kennedy and General Beale. The guard brought up the rear. The garrison of the fort (Seventeenth regiment of regulars) stood in two lines on either side of the scaffold. One hundred and ninety bounty jumpers and brokers, previously marched
out of their cells, occupied the background, the brokers separated a short interval from their victims. A dozen newspaper reporters stood near the gallows.
THE EXECUTION.
The first act under the gallows was the reading of the findings and sentence of the court-martial which convicted Kennedy, with the order of General Dix confirming the sentence. During this ceremony, which was performed by Captain French, the prisoner preserved his composure, occasionally smiling or breaking out in such expressions as: "A d--d lie!" (referring to the charge of being a
spy). "That isn't a crime, is it?" (referring to the charge of being in the rebel army.)The reading of the death sentence having been concluded, Kennedy said in a loud voice "Gentlemen! This is murder."
Turning to Colonel Burke, he said "Colonel! Come here, please."
Marshal Murray here stepped to up Kennedy, laid his hands upon his shoulder, and remarking, "One moment," checked him, while the attending clergyman opened the Book of Common Prayer and began to read the service for the condemned.
Kennedy, standing bareheaded and with pinioned arms, listened respectfully, frequently using a white pocket handkerchief with the difficult efforts of his left hand. A deadly silence prevailed, broken only by the clear voice of the clergyman, a venerable man, who was visibly affected.At the conclusion of the prayer, the clergyman kneeled in front of the prisoner and offered a thrilling plea in his behalf. Kennedy still standing, looked down
upon his spiritual guid and made no remark until the end of the supplication.Burke than shook Kennedy's hand, bade him farewell, and implored him to act as a man and a christian.Kennedy bowed in response to this appeal, and then, calling to Colonel Burke, said: "Colonel, send me a drink before I go!"
KENNEDY'S LAST SPEECH AND HIS DYING SONG.
The clergyman retiring, Kennedy again spoke in a loud voice, as follows:"I consider this a judicial, brutal and cowardly murder. There was no occasion for the United States Government to condemn me."Pausing for a moment, he again said:
"Tell my friends" ----
The sentence remained unfinished.
The executioner here came forward to adjust the noose.
Kennedy then suddenly broke out with the following verse, which he sang in a loud clear voice, in a rollicking Irish air and with a touch of the brogue:
"Trust to luck! trust to luck!
Stare Fate in the face;
Sure your heart will be aisy,
If it's in the right place"
The verse had hardly been finished when the signal was given, the cord was cut, the weight fell, and Kennedy sprang into the air, dying almost instantly--the
sudden violence of the shock having broken his neck.
After hanging for twenty minutes, the body was lowered, life was declared extinct, and the remains placed in a common stained pine coffin, were delivered to Kennedy's friends.
There was a general shudder of horror among the spectators at the profane and impenitent ending of this man. As he stood under the gallows, he showed no symptoms of fear, but betrayed the effects of over-indulgence in stimulants. His speech was thick and his gait unsteady.
The “Times” furnishes Kennedy confession, as follows:
CONFESSION.
After my escape from Johnson's Island I went direct to Canada, where I met a number of Confederate Officers. They asked me if I was willing to go on an expedition. I said, "Yes, if it is in the service of my country." To which they replied "It is all right," but gave no intimation as to its nature, nor did I ask for any. I was shortly after sent to New York, where I staid some time.
There were eight of us in the party, and after we had been in the city three weeks, we were told that the object of the expedition was to retaliate upon the atrocities of Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley. It was originally intended to set fire to the city on the night of Presidential election, but as the phosphorous was not prepared, it was postponed until the night of the 25th of
November. Of the eight men who formed the original party, two fled to Canada, leaving but six. I was at first stopping at the Belmont House, in Fulton street,
but afterward moved into Prince street. I set fire to
FOUR HOTELS,or rather to Barnum's Museum, Lovejoy's Hotel, Tammany Hotel, and the New England House. The others only set fire to the house in which each was stopping, then cut off. Had the entire eight done as I did, we would have set fire to thirty two houses and played a big joke on the Fire Department.I know that I am to be hung for setting fire to Barnum's Museum, but the fact is that the affair was simply a reckless joke. I had no idea of doing it, but when we were in there, for the mere fun of the thing, I emptied a bottle of phosphorous on the floor, just to scare the people. I knew it wouldn't set fire to wood, for we tried that before, and had at one time concluded to give it up. There was no fiendishness about it. The Museum was set on fire by merest accident, after I had been drinking, and just for the fun of a scare.
After setting fire to the four places, I walked the street all night, until near morning, when I went to the Exchange Hotel. There we all met the next morning and again at night. My friend and I had rooms there, but we sat most of the day in the office reading the papers, while the detectives, who were thick, watched us. I expected then that I should be caught, and if caught I expected to die.
Had I done so then it would have been all right, but I think now it's rather rough. I escaped to Canada, as did all the rest, and very glad I was to get safely across the bridge. I was restless, however, and wanted to rejoin my
command. I started with my friend via Detroit. Just before we reached the city we received an intimation that the detectives were on the lookout for us, and giving me a signal, he jumped from the cars. I didn't notice the signal, but kept on and was arrested in the depot.
I wish to say that the killing of women and children was the last thing we thought of. We wanted to let the people of the North understand and feel that there are two sides to this war, and that they can't be rolling in wealth and
comfort while we at the South are bearing all the hardships and privations. In retaliation for Sheridan's atrocities in the Shenandoah we desired to destroy
property, not lives of women and children,although that would of course have followed in the train. per #46550973
CLEVELAND MORNING LEADER
Cleveland, Ohio
Published March 29, 1865
Page 2, Column 3 and 4
-------------------------
"EXECUTION OF KENNEDY.
Robert Cobb Kennedy, the Spy and Hotel Burner, Executed at Fort Lafayette...Extraordinary Conduct of the Condemned..He Dies Singing a Song...His Confession.
We take the following, in reference to the execution of Robert Cobb Kennedy, the rebel spy and hotel-burner, at Fort Lafayette, on Saturday, from the New York “Herald”, “Evening Post”, and “Times”.
The “Herald” of Sunday has the following:
BIOGRAPHY OF THE CULPRIT.
Kennedy was a native of Georgia, but was brought up in Louisiana. He entered the Military Academy at West Point in 1854, but left it two years afterwards, and
returning to his home in Louisiana, lead the life of a planter. He was among the first to enter the rebel service when the rebellion broke out. He was one of
the chief conspirators in the attempt to fire the city last fall, and was detected in trying to burn Barnum's Museum at an hour when its destruction would
have involved the loss of a large number of lives. The incendiary's flight to Canada, in order to avoid arrest, and his subsequent return to Detroit and capture there by the detectives, are too fresh in the minds of our readers to need recapitulation. Suffice it to say that he was brought to this city, tried before a military commission, and condemned to die yesterday, by order of Major
General Dix, commander of the Department of the East.
In person the condemned was about five feet eight inches high, light build, with brown eyes, and hair and whiskers of the same color. He was usually attired in a suit of gray cloth, and his general air was that of an educated and well-bred person.
THE MORNING OF THE EXECUTION.
Kennedy rose from his bed about seven o'clock, apparently but little refreshed by his sleep. The chaplain was early in attendance and unremitting in his efforts to comfort the culprit, who was by no means resigned to his fate. The
prayers for condemned prisoners, according to the services of the Protestant Episcopal Church, were read by the clergyman, and every effort was made to minister to the wants of the unhappy man.
HIS INTERVIEW WITH HIS COUNSEL.
Colonel Stroughton, who acted as the prisoner's counsel on the trial, visited the condemned, in company with General Beale, of the rebel army. They found the prisoner much dejected, but he cheered up when they spoke to him, and tried to be as lively as the circumstances of his case would permit. When cutting off a lock of his hair, however, and handing it to General Beale to be delivered to his friends as a memento, he broke down, and shed tears as freely as a child. He begged that General Beale would remain with him until the last, and upon receiving an assurance in the affirmative he seemed to regain his lost spirit, and was cheerful again.
THE EXECUTIONER VISITS THE CULPRIT.
The executioner visited the prisoner's cell during the forenoon, for the purpose of finding out his weight, height, &c., so that he might arrange the gallows
accordingly. The hangman tried to get the desired information by a little piece of strategy, that the prisoner's feelings might not be hurt; but Kennedy was so
gruff with him that he was thrown off his guard and unwittingly revealed the object of his visit. Kennedy did not relish the executioner’s visit much; but nevertheless he gave him the desired information in regard to his weight and height, saying he weighed about one hundred and thirty-five pounds, and was about five feet eight inches in height. The table at which the prisoner sat was
strewn with writing materials, books, letters, &c. The prisoner had also an abundant supply of tobacco on hand, there being no less than four packages on the table, besides what he carried in his pockets.
The “Evening Post”, of Saturday, describes the closing scenes of the execution
as follows:
SCENES IN KENNEDY'S CELL.
At 12:55 o'clock, Colonel Burke, the commandant of the fort, Marshall Murray and his deputy, the executioner, and two reporters for New York newspapers, entered the cell of the condemned man (No. 2, the same recently occupied by Joseph Howard, Jr.).
General Beale (the rebel officer now on parole in this city to provide supplies for rebel prisoners), Captain Wilson and Chaplain Burke, of fort Hamilton, were
found in the cell with Kennedy.
As Marshal Murray entered the cell, Kennedy rose from a table at which he had been writing, and the following colloquy ensued.
Marshal Murray--I have come to prepare you for the execution.
Kennedy--I know what your errand is. I prepared for it. I am ready.
[The executioner here approached the prisoner.]
Kennedy--(to the executioner)--I don't know you; I don't know who you are.
[General Beale here approached Kennedy, speaking in a low voice, and apparently endeavoring to restrain him.]
Kennedy (turning to the officers)--All right! I am prepared for this thing. Bind my arms.
Kennedy then turned to one of the reporters, and begged him to do full justice to his memory in the account he was to write.
He then said farewell to Captain Wilson, and requested him to give his pipe to General Beale, to forward to his mother.
Turning to the company, Kennedy then spoke as follows:
"This is hard for you d--d Yankees to treat me this way. I have been a regular soldier."
The executioner now began to bind Kennedy's arms. While this was in progress, Kennedy asked General Beale for a handkerchief, and used it. When the black cap
was placed upon his head, he asked, "Am I going to wear this thing to the gallows?" The answer was "Yes."
The preparations being now complete, the procession formed in line, and as it passed out the cell door, Kennedy turned to General Beale, with the remark:
"This is cowardly murder."
MARCHING TO THE GALLOWS.
About five minutes past one o'clock the procession marched to the gallows, Chaplain Burke and Lieutenant Black, officer of the day, walking first followed by Kennedy and General Beale. The guard brought up the rear. The garrison of the fort (Seventeenth regiment of regulars) stood in two lines on either side of the scaffold. One hundred and ninety bounty jumpers and brokers, previously marched
out of their cells, occupied the background, the brokers separated a short interval from their victims. A dozen newspaper reporters stood near the gallows.
THE EXECUTION.
The first act under the gallows was the reading of the findings and sentence of the court-martial which convicted Kennedy, with the order of General Dix confirming the sentence. During this ceremony, which was performed by Captain French, the prisoner preserved his composure, occasionally smiling or breaking out in such expressions as: "A d--d lie!" (referring to the charge of being a
spy). "That isn't a crime, is it?" (referring to the charge of being in the rebel army.)The reading of the death sentence having been concluded, Kennedy said in a loud voice "Gentlemen! This is murder."
Turning to Colonel Burke, he said "Colonel! Come here, please."
Marshal Murray here stepped to up Kennedy, laid his hands upon his shoulder, and remarking, "One moment," checked him, while the attending clergyman opened the Book of Common Prayer and began to read the service for the condemned.
Kennedy, standing bareheaded and with pinioned arms, listened respectfully, frequently using a white pocket handkerchief with the difficult efforts of his left hand. A deadly silence prevailed, broken only by the clear voice of the clergyman, a venerable man, who was visibly affected.At the conclusion of the prayer, the clergyman kneeled in front of the prisoner and offered a thrilling plea in his behalf. Kennedy still standing, looked down
upon his spiritual guid and made no remark until the end of the supplication.Burke than shook Kennedy's hand, bade him farewell, and implored him to act as a man and a christian.Kennedy bowed in response to this appeal, and then, calling to Colonel Burke, said: "Colonel, send me a drink before I go!"
KENNEDY'S LAST SPEECH AND HIS DYING SONG.
The clergyman retiring, Kennedy again spoke in a loud voice, as follows:"I consider this a judicial, brutal and cowardly murder. There was no occasion for the United States Government to condemn me."Pausing for a moment, he again said:
"Tell my friends" ----
The sentence remained unfinished.
The executioner here came forward to adjust the noose.
Kennedy then suddenly broke out with the following verse, which he sang in a loud clear voice, in a rollicking Irish air and with a touch of the brogue:
"Trust to luck! trust to luck!
Stare Fate in the face;
Sure your heart will be aisy,
If it's in the right place"
The verse had hardly been finished when the signal was given, the cord was cut, the weight fell, and Kennedy sprang into the air, dying almost instantly--the
sudden violence of the shock having broken his neck.
After hanging for twenty minutes, the body was lowered, life was declared extinct, and the remains placed in a common stained pine coffin, were delivered to Kennedy's friends.
There was a general shudder of horror among the spectators at the profane and impenitent ending of this man. As he stood under the gallows, he showed no symptoms of fear, but betrayed the effects of over-indulgence in stimulants. His speech was thick and his gait unsteady.
The “Times” furnishes Kennedy confession, as follows:
CONFESSION.
After my escape from Johnson's Island I went direct to Canada, where I met a number of Confederate Officers. They asked me if I was willing to go on an expedition. I said, "Yes, if it is in the service of my country." To which they replied "It is all right," but gave no intimation as to its nature, nor did I ask for any. I was shortly after sent to New York, where I staid some time.
There were eight of us in the party, and after we had been in the city three weeks, we were told that the object of the expedition was to retaliate upon the atrocities of Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley. It was originally intended to set fire to the city on the night of Presidential election, but as the phosphorous was not prepared, it was postponed until the night of the 25th of
November. Of the eight men who formed the original party, two fled to Canada, leaving but six. I was at first stopping at the Belmont House, in Fulton street,
but afterward moved into Prince street. I set fire to
FOUR HOTELS,or rather to Barnum's Museum, Lovejoy's Hotel, Tammany Hotel, and the New England House. The others only set fire to the house in which each was stopping, then cut off. Had the entire eight done as I did, we would have set fire to thirty two houses and played a big joke on the Fire Department.I know that I am to be hung for setting fire to Barnum's Museum, but the fact is that the affair was simply a reckless joke. I had no idea of doing it, but when we were in there, for the mere fun of the thing, I emptied a bottle of phosphorous on the floor, just to scare the people. I knew it wouldn't set fire to wood, for we tried that before, and had at one time concluded to give it up. There was no fiendishness about it. The Museum was set on fire by merest accident, after I had been drinking, and just for the fun of a scare.
After setting fire to the four places, I walked the street all night, until near morning, when I went to the Exchange Hotel. There we all met the next morning and again at night. My friend and I had rooms there, but we sat most of the day in the office reading the papers, while the detectives, who were thick, watched us. I expected then that I should be caught, and if caught I expected to die.
Had I done so then it would have been all right, but I think now it's rather rough. I escaped to Canada, as did all the rest, and very glad I was to get safely across the bridge. I was restless, however, and wanted to rejoin my
command. I started with my friend via Detroit. Just before we reached the city we received an intimation that the detectives were on the lookout for us, and giving me a signal, he jumped from the cars. I didn't notice the signal, but kept on and was arrested in the depot.
I wish to say that the killing of women and children was the last thing we thought of. We wanted to let the people of the North understand and feel that there are two sides to this war, and that they can't be rolling in wealth and
comfort while we at the South are bearing all the hardships and privations. In retaliation for Sheridan's atrocities in the Shenandoah we desired to destroy
property, not lives of women and children,although that would of course have followed in the train. per #46550973
Confederate Soldier - "Robert C Kennedy was tried as a spy for his part in the setting of numerous fires in New York City in November, 1864. Places burned by him and others (who were never tried) included a number of hotels and Barnum's Museum. He was executed on Governor's Island. He was buried in an unmarked grave on the island in New York Harbor. All of the bodies buried on the island were disinterred in the late 1870's and re-buried in Cypress Hills. It is probable that he is buried in an unmarked grave in the National Cemetery " - John F Walter
CLEVELAND MORNING LEADER
Cleveland, Ohio
Published March 29, 1865
Page 2, Column 3 and 4
-------------------------
"EXECUTION OF KENNEDY.
Robert Cobb Kennedy, the Spy and Hotel Burner, Executed at Fort Lafayette...Extraordinary Conduct of the Condemned..He Dies Singing a Song...His Confession.
We take the following, in reference to the execution of Robert Cobb Kennedy, the rebel spy and hotel-burner, at Fort Lafayette, on Saturday, from the New York “Herald”, “Evening Post”, and “Times”.
The “Herald” of Sunday has the following:
BIOGRAPHY OF THE CULPRIT.
Kennedy was a native of Georgia, but was brought up in Louisiana. He entered the Military Academy at West Point in 1854, but left it two years afterwards, and
returning to his home in Louisiana, lead the life of a planter. He was among the first to enter the rebel service when the rebellion broke out. He was one of
the chief conspirators in the attempt to fire the city last fall, and was detected in trying to burn Barnum's Museum at an hour when its destruction would
have involved the loss of a large number of lives. The incendiary's flight to Canada, in order to avoid arrest, and his subsequent return to Detroit and capture there by the detectives, are too fresh in the minds of our readers to need recapitulation. Suffice it to say that he was brought to this city, tried before a military commission, and condemned to die yesterday, by order of Major
General Dix, commander of the Department of the East.
In person the condemned was about five feet eight inches high, light build, with brown eyes, and hair and whiskers of the same color. He was usually attired in a suit of gray cloth, and his general air was that of an educated and well-bred person.
THE MORNING OF THE EXECUTION.
Kennedy rose from his bed about seven o'clock, apparently but little refreshed by his sleep. The chaplain was early in attendance and unremitting in his efforts to comfort the culprit, who was by no means resigned to his fate. The
prayers for condemned prisoners, according to the services of the Protestant Episcopal Church, were read by the clergyman, and every effort was made to minister to the wants of the unhappy man.
HIS INTERVIEW WITH HIS COUNSEL.
Colonel Stroughton, who acted as the prisoner's counsel on the trial, visited the condemned, in company with General Beale, of the rebel army. They found the prisoner much dejected, but he cheered up when they spoke to him, and tried to be as lively as the circumstances of his case would permit. When cutting off a lock of his hair, however, and handing it to General Beale to be delivered to his friends as a memento, he broke down, and shed tears as freely as a child. He begged that General Beale would remain with him until the last, and upon receiving an assurance in the affirmative he seemed to regain his lost spirit, and was cheerful again.
THE EXECUTIONER VISITS THE CULPRIT.
The executioner visited the prisoner's cell during the forenoon, for the purpose of finding out his weight, height, &c., so that he might arrange the gallows
accordingly. The hangman tried to get the desired information by a little piece of strategy, that the prisoner's feelings might not be hurt; but Kennedy was so
gruff with him that he was thrown off his guard and unwittingly revealed the object of his visit. Kennedy did not relish the executioner’s visit much; but nevertheless he gave him the desired information in regard to his weight and height, saying he weighed about one hundred and thirty-five pounds, and was about five feet eight inches in height. The table at which the prisoner sat was
strewn with writing materials, books, letters, &c. The prisoner had also an abundant supply of tobacco on hand, there being no less than four packages on the table, besides what he carried in his pockets.
The “Evening Post”, of Saturday, describes the closing scenes of the execution
as follows:
SCENES IN KENNEDY'S CELL.
At 12:55 o'clock, Colonel Burke, the commandant of the fort, Marshall Murray and his deputy, the executioner, and two reporters for New York newspapers, entered the cell of the condemned man (No. 2, the same recently occupied by Joseph Howard, Jr.).
General Beale (the rebel officer now on parole in this city to provide supplies for rebel prisoners), Captain Wilson and Chaplain Burke, of fort Hamilton, were
found in the cell with Kennedy.
As Marshal Murray entered the cell, Kennedy rose from a table at which he had been writing, and the following colloquy ensued.
Marshal Murray--I have come to prepare you for the execution.
Kennedy--I know what your errand is. I prepared for it. I am ready.
[The executioner here approached the prisoner.]
Kennedy--(to the executioner)--I don't know you; I don't know who you are.
[General Beale here approached Kennedy, speaking in a low voice, and apparently endeavoring to restrain him.]
Kennedy (turning to the officers)--All right! I am prepared for this thing. Bind my arms.
Kennedy then turned to one of the reporters, and begged him to do full justice to his memory in the account he was to write.
He then said farewell to Captain Wilson, and requested him to give his pipe to General Beale, to forward to his mother.
Turning to the company, Kennedy then spoke as follows:
"This is hard for you d--d Yankees to treat me this way. I have been a regular soldier."
The executioner now began to bind Kennedy's arms. While this was in progress, Kennedy asked General Beale for a handkerchief, and used it. When the black cap
was placed upon his head, he asked, "Am I going to wear this thing to the gallows?" The answer was "Yes."
The preparations being now complete, the procession formed in line, and as it passed out the cell door, Kennedy turned to General Beale, with the remark:
"This is cowardly murder."
MARCHING TO THE GALLOWS.
About five minutes past one o'clock the procession marched to the gallows, Chaplain Burke and Lieutenant Black, officer of the day, walking first followed by Kennedy and General Beale. The guard brought up the rear. The garrison of the fort (Seventeenth regiment of regulars) stood in two lines on either side of the scaffold. One hundred and ninety bounty jumpers and brokers, previously marched
out of their cells, occupied the background, the brokers separated a short interval from their victims. A dozen newspaper reporters stood near the gallows.
THE EXECUTION.
The first act under the gallows was the reading of the findings and sentence of the court-martial which convicted Kennedy, with the order of General Dix confirming the sentence. During this ceremony, which was performed by Captain French, the prisoner preserved his composure, occasionally smiling or breaking out in such expressions as: "A d--d lie!" (referring to the charge of being a
spy). "That isn't a crime, is it?" (referring to the charge of being in the rebel army.)The reading of the death sentence having been concluded, Kennedy said in a loud voice "Gentlemen! This is murder."
Turning to Colonel Burke, he said "Colonel! Come here, please."
Marshal Murray here stepped to up Kennedy, laid his hands upon his shoulder, and remarking, "One moment," checked him, while the attending clergyman opened the Book of Common Prayer and began to read the service for the condemned.
Kennedy, standing bareheaded and with pinioned arms, listened respectfully, frequently using a white pocket handkerchief with the difficult efforts of his left hand. A deadly silence prevailed, broken only by the clear voice of the clergyman, a venerable man, who was visibly affected.At the conclusion of the prayer, the clergyman kneeled in front of the prisoner and offered a thrilling plea in his behalf. Kennedy still standing, looked down
upon his spiritual guid and made no remark until the end of the supplication.Burke than shook Kennedy's hand, bade him farewell, and implored him to act as a man and a christian.Kennedy bowed in response to this appeal, and then, calling to Colonel Burke, said: "Colonel, send me a drink before I go!"
KENNEDY'S LAST SPEECH AND HIS DYING SONG.
The clergyman retiring, Kennedy again spoke in a loud voice, as follows:"I consider this a judicial, brutal and cowardly murder. There was no occasion for the United States Government to condemn me."Pausing for a moment, he again said:
"Tell my friends" ----
The sentence remained unfinished.
The executioner here came forward to adjust the noose.
Kennedy then suddenly broke out with the following verse, which he sang in a loud clear voice, in a rollicking Irish air and with a touch of the brogue:
"Trust to luck! trust to luck!
Stare Fate in the face;
Sure your heart will be aisy,
If it's in the right place"
The verse had hardly been finished when the signal was given, the cord was cut, the weight fell, and Kennedy sprang into the air, dying almost instantly--the
sudden violence of the shock having broken his neck.
After hanging for twenty minutes, the body was lowered, life was declared extinct, and the remains placed in a common stained pine coffin, were delivered to Kennedy's friends.
There was a general shudder of horror among the spectators at the profane and impenitent ending of this man. As he stood under the gallows, he showed no symptoms of fear, but betrayed the effects of over-indulgence in stimulants. His speech was thick and his gait unsteady.
The “Times” furnishes Kennedy confession, as follows:
CONFESSION.
After my escape from Johnson's Island I went direct to Canada, where I met a number of Confederate Officers. They asked me if I was willing to go on an expedition. I said, "Yes, if it is in the service of my country." To which they replied "It is all right," but gave no intimation as to its nature, nor did I ask for any. I was shortly after sent to New York, where I staid some time.
There were eight of us in the party, and after we had been in the city three weeks, we were told that the object of the expedition was to retaliate upon the atrocities of Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley. It was originally intended to set fire to the city on the night of Presidential election, but as the phosphorous was not prepared, it was postponed until the night of the 25th of
November. Of the eight men who formed the original party, two fled to Canada, leaving but six. I was at first stopping at the Belmont House, in Fulton street,
but afterward moved into Prince street. I set fire to
FOUR HOTELS,or rather to Barnum's Museum, Lovejoy's Hotel, Tammany Hotel, and the New England House. The others only set fire to the house in which each was stopping, then cut off. Had the entire eight done as I did, we would have set fire to thirty two houses and played a big joke on the Fire Department.I know that I am to be hung for setting fire to Barnum's Museum, but the fact is that the affair was simply a reckless joke. I had no idea of doing it, but when we were in there, for the mere fun of the thing, I emptied a bottle of phosphorous on the floor, just to scare the people. I knew it wouldn't set fire to wood, for we tried that before, and had at one time concluded to give it up. There was no fiendishness about it. The Museum was set on fire by merest accident, after I had been drinking, and just for the fun of a scare.
After setting fire to the four places, I walked the street all night, until near morning, when I went to the Exchange Hotel. There we all met the next morning and again at night. My friend and I had rooms there, but we sat most of the day in the office reading the papers, while the detectives, who were thick, watched us. I expected then that I should be caught, and if caught I expected to die.
Had I done so then it would have been all right, but I think now it's rather rough. I escaped to Canada, as did all the rest, and very glad I was to get safely across the bridge. I was restless, however, and wanted to rejoin my
command. I started with my friend via Detroit. Just before we reached the city we received an intimation that the detectives were on the lookout for us, and giving me a signal, he jumped from the cars. I didn't notice the signal, but kept on and was arrested in the depot.
I wish to say that the killing of women and children was the last thing we thought of. We wanted to let the people of the North understand and feel that there are two sides to this war, and that they can't be rolling in wealth and
comfort while we at the South are bearing all the hardships and privations. In retaliation for Sheridan's atrocities in the Shenandoah we desired to destroy
property, not lives of women and children,although that would of course have followed in the train. per #46550973
CLEVELAND MORNING LEADER
Cleveland, Ohio
Published March 29, 1865
Page 2, Column 3 and 4
-------------------------
"EXECUTION OF KENNEDY.
Robert Cobb Kennedy, the Spy and Hotel Burner, Executed at Fort Lafayette...Extraordinary Conduct of the Condemned..He Dies Singing a Song...His Confession.
We take the following, in reference to the execution of Robert Cobb Kennedy, the rebel spy and hotel-burner, at Fort Lafayette, on Saturday, from the New York “Herald”, “Evening Post”, and “Times”.
The “Herald” of Sunday has the following:
BIOGRAPHY OF THE CULPRIT.
Kennedy was a native of Georgia, but was brought up in Louisiana. He entered the Military Academy at West Point in 1854, but left it two years afterwards, and
returning to his home in Louisiana, lead the life of a planter. He was among the first to enter the rebel service when the rebellion broke out. He was one of
the chief conspirators in the attempt to fire the city last fall, and was detected in trying to burn Barnum's Museum at an hour when its destruction would
have involved the loss of a large number of lives. The incendiary's flight to Canada, in order to avoid arrest, and his subsequent return to Detroit and capture there by the detectives, are too fresh in the minds of our readers to need recapitulation. Suffice it to say that he was brought to this city, tried before a military commission, and condemned to die yesterday, by order of Major
General Dix, commander of the Department of the East.
In person the condemned was about five feet eight inches high, light build, with brown eyes, and hair and whiskers of the same color. He was usually attired in a suit of gray cloth, and his general air was that of an educated and well-bred person.
THE MORNING OF THE EXECUTION.
Kennedy rose from his bed about seven o'clock, apparently but little refreshed by his sleep. The chaplain was early in attendance and unremitting in his efforts to comfort the culprit, who was by no means resigned to his fate. The
prayers for condemned prisoners, according to the services of the Protestant Episcopal Church, were read by the clergyman, and every effort was made to minister to the wants of the unhappy man.
HIS INTERVIEW WITH HIS COUNSEL.
Colonel Stroughton, who acted as the prisoner's counsel on the trial, visited the condemned, in company with General Beale, of the rebel army. They found the prisoner much dejected, but he cheered up when they spoke to him, and tried to be as lively as the circumstances of his case would permit. When cutting off a lock of his hair, however, and handing it to General Beale to be delivered to his friends as a memento, he broke down, and shed tears as freely as a child. He begged that General Beale would remain with him until the last, and upon receiving an assurance in the affirmative he seemed to regain his lost spirit, and was cheerful again.
THE EXECUTIONER VISITS THE CULPRIT.
The executioner visited the prisoner's cell during the forenoon, for the purpose of finding out his weight, height, &c., so that he might arrange the gallows
accordingly. The hangman tried to get the desired information by a little piece of strategy, that the prisoner's feelings might not be hurt; but Kennedy was so
gruff with him that he was thrown off his guard and unwittingly revealed the object of his visit. Kennedy did not relish the executioner’s visit much; but nevertheless he gave him the desired information in regard to his weight and height, saying he weighed about one hundred and thirty-five pounds, and was about five feet eight inches in height. The table at which the prisoner sat was
strewn with writing materials, books, letters, &c. The prisoner had also an abundant supply of tobacco on hand, there being no less than four packages on the table, besides what he carried in his pockets.
The “Evening Post”, of Saturday, describes the closing scenes of the execution
as follows:
SCENES IN KENNEDY'S CELL.
At 12:55 o'clock, Colonel Burke, the commandant of the fort, Marshall Murray and his deputy, the executioner, and two reporters for New York newspapers, entered the cell of the condemned man (No. 2, the same recently occupied by Joseph Howard, Jr.).
General Beale (the rebel officer now on parole in this city to provide supplies for rebel prisoners), Captain Wilson and Chaplain Burke, of fort Hamilton, were
found in the cell with Kennedy.
As Marshal Murray entered the cell, Kennedy rose from a table at which he had been writing, and the following colloquy ensued.
Marshal Murray--I have come to prepare you for the execution.
Kennedy--I know what your errand is. I prepared for it. I am ready.
[The executioner here approached the prisoner.]
Kennedy--(to the executioner)--I don't know you; I don't know who you are.
[General Beale here approached Kennedy, speaking in a low voice, and apparently endeavoring to restrain him.]
Kennedy (turning to the officers)--All right! I am prepared for this thing. Bind my arms.
Kennedy then turned to one of the reporters, and begged him to do full justice to his memory in the account he was to write.
He then said farewell to Captain Wilson, and requested him to give his pipe to General Beale, to forward to his mother.
Turning to the company, Kennedy then spoke as follows:
"This is hard for you d--d Yankees to treat me this way. I have been a regular soldier."
The executioner now began to bind Kennedy's arms. While this was in progress, Kennedy asked General Beale for a handkerchief, and used it. When the black cap
was placed upon his head, he asked, "Am I going to wear this thing to the gallows?" The answer was "Yes."
The preparations being now complete, the procession formed in line, and as it passed out the cell door, Kennedy turned to General Beale, with the remark:
"This is cowardly murder."
MARCHING TO THE GALLOWS.
About five minutes past one o'clock the procession marched to the gallows, Chaplain Burke and Lieutenant Black, officer of the day, walking first followed by Kennedy and General Beale. The guard brought up the rear. The garrison of the fort (Seventeenth regiment of regulars) stood in two lines on either side of the scaffold. One hundred and ninety bounty jumpers and brokers, previously marched
out of their cells, occupied the background, the brokers separated a short interval from their victims. A dozen newspaper reporters stood near the gallows.
THE EXECUTION.
The first act under the gallows was the reading of the findings and sentence of the court-martial which convicted Kennedy, with the order of General Dix confirming the sentence. During this ceremony, which was performed by Captain French, the prisoner preserved his composure, occasionally smiling or breaking out in such expressions as: "A d--d lie!" (referring to the charge of being a
spy). "That isn't a crime, is it?" (referring to the charge of being in the rebel army.)The reading of the death sentence having been concluded, Kennedy said in a loud voice "Gentlemen! This is murder."
Turning to Colonel Burke, he said "Colonel! Come here, please."
Marshal Murray here stepped to up Kennedy, laid his hands upon his shoulder, and remarking, "One moment," checked him, while the attending clergyman opened the Book of Common Prayer and began to read the service for the condemned.
Kennedy, standing bareheaded and with pinioned arms, listened respectfully, frequently using a white pocket handkerchief with the difficult efforts of his left hand. A deadly silence prevailed, broken only by the clear voice of the clergyman, a venerable man, who was visibly affected.At the conclusion of the prayer, the clergyman kneeled in front of the prisoner and offered a thrilling plea in his behalf. Kennedy still standing, looked down
upon his spiritual guid and made no remark until the end of the supplication.Burke than shook Kennedy's hand, bade him farewell, and implored him to act as a man and a christian.Kennedy bowed in response to this appeal, and then, calling to Colonel Burke, said: "Colonel, send me a drink before I go!"
KENNEDY'S LAST SPEECH AND HIS DYING SONG.
The clergyman retiring, Kennedy again spoke in a loud voice, as follows:"I consider this a judicial, brutal and cowardly murder. There was no occasion for the United States Government to condemn me."Pausing for a moment, he again said:
"Tell my friends" ----
The sentence remained unfinished.
The executioner here came forward to adjust the noose.
Kennedy then suddenly broke out with the following verse, which he sang in a loud clear voice, in a rollicking Irish air and with a touch of the brogue:
"Trust to luck! trust to luck!
Stare Fate in the face;
Sure your heart will be aisy,
If it's in the right place"
The verse had hardly been finished when the signal was given, the cord was cut, the weight fell, and Kennedy sprang into the air, dying almost instantly--the
sudden violence of the shock having broken his neck.
After hanging for twenty minutes, the body was lowered, life was declared extinct, and the remains placed in a common stained pine coffin, were delivered to Kennedy's friends.
There was a general shudder of horror among the spectators at the profane and impenitent ending of this man. As he stood under the gallows, he showed no symptoms of fear, but betrayed the effects of over-indulgence in stimulants. His speech was thick and his gait unsteady.
The “Times” furnishes Kennedy confession, as follows:
CONFESSION.
After my escape from Johnson's Island I went direct to Canada, where I met a number of Confederate Officers. They asked me if I was willing to go on an expedition. I said, "Yes, if it is in the service of my country." To which they replied "It is all right," but gave no intimation as to its nature, nor did I ask for any. I was shortly after sent to New York, where I staid some time.
There were eight of us in the party, and after we had been in the city three weeks, we were told that the object of the expedition was to retaliate upon the atrocities of Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley. It was originally intended to set fire to the city on the night of Presidential election, but as the phosphorous was not prepared, it was postponed until the night of the 25th of
November. Of the eight men who formed the original party, two fled to Canada, leaving but six. I was at first stopping at the Belmont House, in Fulton street,
but afterward moved into Prince street. I set fire to
FOUR HOTELS,or rather to Barnum's Museum, Lovejoy's Hotel, Tammany Hotel, and the New England House. The others only set fire to the house in which each was stopping, then cut off. Had the entire eight done as I did, we would have set fire to thirty two houses and played a big joke on the Fire Department.I know that I am to be hung for setting fire to Barnum's Museum, but the fact is that the affair was simply a reckless joke. I had no idea of doing it, but when we were in there, for the mere fun of the thing, I emptied a bottle of phosphorous on the floor, just to scare the people. I knew it wouldn't set fire to wood, for we tried that before, and had at one time concluded to give it up. There was no fiendishness about it. The Museum was set on fire by merest accident, after I had been drinking, and just for the fun of a scare.
After setting fire to the four places, I walked the street all night, until near morning, when I went to the Exchange Hotel. There we all met the next morning and again at night. My friend and I had rooms there, but we sat most of the day in the office reading the papers, while the detectives, who were thick, watched us. I expected then that I should be caught, and if caught I expected to die.
Had I done so then it would have been all right, but I think now it's rather rough. I escaped to Canada, as did all the rest, and very glad I was to get safely across the bridge. I was restless, however, and wanted to rejoin my
command. I started with my friend via Detroit. Just before we reached the city we received an intimation that the detectives were on the lookout for us, and giving me a signal, he jumped from the cars. I didn't notice the signal, but kept on and was arrested in the depot.
I wish to say that the killing of women and children was the last thing we thought of. We wanted to let the people of the North understand and feel that there are two sides to this war, and that they can't be rolling in wealth and
comfort while we at the South are bearing all the hardships and privations. In retaliation for Sheridan's atrocities in the Shenandoah we desired to destroy
property, not lives of women and children,although that would of course have followed in the train. per #46550973
