AN EXECUTION AT VIENNA.
Carl Fickte, a native of Vienna, stood condemned for execution. His
crime was murder. He was convicted of having enveigled his nephew, of
eight years old, to the Molker bastion of the city fortification, and of
having thrown him over the parapet into the dry ditch below. The depth
of the fall was between thirty and forty feet, and the shattered body of
the boy explained his miserable death. His nephew's cloak became
loosened in the struggle, and remained in the hands of Fickte, who sold
it, and spent the produce in a night's debauch. This cloak led to the
discovery of the murderer, and after a lapse of eight months to his
conviction and execution.
I had resolved to witness the last act of the law, and started from home
at six o'clock on the appointed morning. A white mist filled the air,
and gradually thickened into rain; and by the time I had reached the
spot--a distance of about two miles--a smart shower was falling. The
place of execution is a field in the outskirts of the city, bounded on
one side by the main road, and close to the "Spinnerinn am Kreuz," an
ancient stone cross, standing on the edge of the highway. From this spot
a beautiful view of the city is obtained.
The crowd was already gathering, and carts, benches, and platforms were
in course of arrangement by enterprising speculators, for the
accommodation of the people. A low bank which skirted the field was soon
occupied, and every swell of the ground was taken advantage of. Soon the
rain fell in torrents, and the earth became sodden and yielding; but no
pelting shower, no sinking clay, could drive the anxious crowd from the
attractive spectacle. Still on they came, men and women together;
laughing and joking; their clothes tucked about them, and umbrella-laden.
Over the field; on to the slippery bank, whence, every now and again,
arose a burst of uproar and laughter, as some part of the mound gave way,
and precipitated a snugly-packed crowd into the swamp below.
Venders of fruit, sausages, bread, and spirits, occupied every eligible
situation, and from the early hour, and the unprepared state of the
spectators, found abundant patronage.
A clatter was heard from the city side, and a body of mounted police
galloped along the high road, halted at the gallows, and formed
themselves into a hollow square around it. The gibbet was unlike our
own, it had no platform, and no steps; but was a simple frame formed by
two strong upright, and one horizontal beam. There was a little
entanglement of pulleys and ropes, which I learned to understand at a
later hour.
Still the rain came pouring down, in one uninterrupted flood, that
nothing but the excitement of a public execution could withstand. And
still the people clustered together in a dense crowd, under the open air
and pelting rain, shifting and reeling, splashing and staggering, till
the field became trodden into a heavy, clinging paste of a full foot
deep. But no one left the spot; they had come for the sight, and see it
they would. Over the whole field and bank, and rising ground, a perfect
sea of umbrellas waved and swayed with the crowd, as they vainly sought a
firmer resting place among the clogging clay. An hour went by, but there
was no change, except a continued accession to the crowd. It was
wonderful how patiently they stood under the watery hurricane; helplessly
embedded in a slimy swamp; feverish and anxious; with no thought but the
looming gallows, towards which all eyes were turned, and the miserable
culprit, whose sudden end they were awaiting to see.
Fagged, at length, and soaked with rain, I left the slough, and gaining
the highroad, pressed towards the city to meet the cavalcade. A rushing
of people, and a confused cry, told me of its approach. "There he is!"
Yes, there! in that open cart, surrounded by mounted police, and pressed
on all sides by a hurrying crowd. On either side of him sit the prison
officials; while in front, an energetic priest, with all the vehemence
and gesticulation of the wildest religious fervour, is evidently urging
him to repentance.
It is the law of Austria, that no criminal, however distinctly his crime
may have been proved by circumstantial evidence, can suffer death, till
he has himself confirmed the evidence by confession. But any artifice
can be lawfully employed to entrap him into an acknowledgment of his
guilt; therefore, although the sentence of the law may often be deferred,
it is rare indeed that its completion is averted. Fickte had of course
confessed. A flush was on his face; but there was no life or
intellectual spirit there.
Another battle with the crowd, and I stood in the rear of the gibbet.
After a weary interval, the scharfrichter--executioner--mounted, by means
of a ladder, to the cross beam of the gallows. By the action of a wheel
the culprit slowly rose into the air, but still unhurt. Three broad
leathern straps confined his arms; and perfectly motionless, held in a
perpendicular position by cordage fixed to the ground, and to the beam
above, he awaited his death. No cap covered his face. A looped cord
passing through another pulley, was placed under his chin, the cord
running along the cross-beam, and the end fixed to a wheel at the side of
the gibbet.
The culprit kissed the crucifix; a single turn of the wheel; a hoarse cry
of "Down with the umbrellas!" and his life had passed away; though no
cry, no struggle, announced its departure. The scharfrichter laid his
hand upon the heart of the criminal, then, assured of his death,
descended. And still, amid the incessant rain, with eager eyes bent upon
the dead, the crowd waited, gloating on the sight. According to the
sentence of the law, the corpse, with nothing to hide its discoloured and
distorted features, remained hanging till the setting of the sun.
Ashamed, wearied, and horrified, I hurried home; only halting on my way
to purchase the "Todesurtheil," or "Death-sentence," which was being
cried about the streets. This is an official document, and indeed the
only one with which the people of Vienna are gratified on such a subject.
Trials are not public, nor can they be reported; and although the whole
of the details invariably ooze out through the police, no authentic
account appears before the public till the sentence is carried out.
The "Todesurtheil" appears, like our "Last Dying Speech," at the time of
the execution, but contains no verses; being a simple, and very brief
narrative of the life and crime of the condemned. He is designated by
his initials only, out of delicacy to his relatives, although his real
name is, somehow or other, already well known.
Six months later there occurred another execution, but I had no curiosity
to witness it. The condemned was a soldier, who, in a fit of jealousy,
had fired upon his mistress; but killed a bystander instead. There was
no mystery about the affair, and he was condemned to death.
On the day previous to his execution, he was allowed to receive the
visits of his friends and the public. Only a single person was admitted
at a time. He awaited his visitor (in this instance, an acquaintance of
my own), with calmness and resolution; advanced with outstretched hand to
meet him; greeting him with a hearty salutation. The visitor, totally
unprepared for this, trembled with a cold shudder, as he received the
pressure of the murderer's hand; murmured a blessing; dropped a few coin
into the box for the especial benefit of his soul, and hurriedly
withdrew.
On the following morning the condemned quitted his prison for the gibbet.
But the soldier, unlike the civilian--the soldier who has forfeited his
right to a military execution--must walk to his death. The civilian
rides in the felon's cart; the soldier, in undress, must pace the weary
way on foot. Imagine a death-condemned criminal walking from the Old
Bailey to Copenhagen Fields to the gallows, and you have a parallel case.