He literally battered the head of his victim out of all shape, and left him a dead and worthless mass of inanimate matter.
The crime, though desperate, was openly committed, and there were sufficient witnesses at his trial to make it a short one.

On that morning, neither arrest, nor friar, nor chaplain, nor jailer, nor sheriff could wring from him one single expression of regret or repentance for what he had done.

The only reply he made them was this--"Don't trouble me; I knew what my fate was to be, and will die with satisfaction." After cutting him down, his body, as we have said, was delivered to his friends, who, having wrapped it in a quilt, conveyed it on a common car to his own house, where he received the usual ablutions and offices of death, and was composed upon his own bed into that attitude of the grave which will never change.
The house was nearly filled with grave and aged people, whose conversation was low, and impressed with solemnity, that originated from the painful and melancholy spirit of the event that had that morning taken place.

A deal table was set lengthwise on the floor; on this were candles, pipes, and plates of cut tobacco.

In the usual cases of death among the poor, the bed on which the corpse is stretched is festooned with white sheets, borrowed for the occasion from the wealthier neighbors.