Newspaper account of the murder of Samuel Breakwell, transcribed by Jan Mackie. The articles have been reproduced as printed, and contain some inaccuracies with regard to dates, places and spelling of names.

The Waukegan Daily Sun, Friday, August 19, 1898

IN PRISON

Carl Pethke was downcast late yesterday afternoon when interviewed by a Sun reporter. For one whole day he had sat in the dingy darkness of the murderer’s row on the second floor of the county jail, brooding over the tragic climax of his troubled life.

Newspaper men, through the kindness of Sheriff Brown, were ushered up the iron stairs and into the dark corridor.

Pethke, outside his cell, sat in the inner cloister between the rows of iron cages. He appeared to have spent a troubled night, and as the reporter saw him the poor criminal looked an object of pity. His head was bent and was resting on his trembling hands; his short body crumpled up and his feet stretched out in front of him, he was not inclined to rise when Sheriff Brown called, "Carl." There was no answer, not a move. "Carl," he called again and Pethke jumped up quickly in his impulsive way. "Here are some gentlemen who want to talk with you," said the sheriff and Carl came forward, dragging his feet slowly over the iron floor.

He said nothing, nor did he seem to notice anyone was looking at him as he stood behind the iron bars. A Chicago man drew his picture, while a Sun reporter endeavored to get Pethke to make a statement.

"Don’t you want to say something for the paper, Carl?" asked the reporter. "Don’t you want people to hear your side of the story?"

"O no," he replied slowly, "nobody know how bad that man is." Raising his nervous right hand in the air he said in broken English, "he persecute me for years, he swear at me, when I see him he swear at me and call me —. I stand much wrong from him. He throw her away (meaning the woman) and I take pity on her, she live with me." He was terribly agitated with his subject as he spoke half in English and half German.

"But aren’t you sorry you killed him?" questioned the reporter. He admitted that he was. "Yes, I am sorry, but how bad he was to me. He try to ruin my home and steal my property. You know not how he persecute me."

"Did you intend to kill him when you saw him yesterday at Highwood?"

"He see me coming, we meet on the street. He first reach in his pocket for something. I know not what. He hit me and cut my hand. Think it was a key he hit me with." Here Pethke held out his hand and showed a little cut on one of the fingers. He keep on hitting me and I have to defend myself. We get fighting and I reach for my knife and pretty soon I cut him bad and he fall down. He hit me first. I not mean to kill him till he hit me, then I had to fight."

Further than that he would say nothing in regard to his relations to Breakwell, but when asked to talk about other topics, he was inclined talk.

"Where were you born, Pethke?"

"In Germany," he replied. I cannot tell you the name of the town. It sound like Berwiz.

He told of his life at Ft. Sheridan, how he used to make clothes for Col. Crofton, all except the shoulder straps, which he indicated by throwing his hand on his shoulders. He seemed relieved when the reporters left him and said, "Good-bye."

The woman in the case, Mrs. Jane Breakwell is now poverty stricken and claims she must be cast to the mercies of the cold world. Bent with age, her eyes red from weeping, she met Marshall Gordon yesterday morning. He came to inform her that he must take possession of the property. She did not know what to do in her distraction and told him she had no place to go. She told him she would come to see Pethke today and gave him come clothes for the prisoner.

Later in the day she began to pack up and all by herself tore up all of the carpets. She made up her mind to ask Sam Breakwell, Jr. for two rooms in the old homestead but Sam says it never could happen. He said he would never let her come to want but she could not live with him.

Mrs. Breakwell came to Waukegan this morning to see Pethke. The latter evidenced signs of great remorse today and was in a distracted state. Both she and the sheriff thought it not best to disturb him so she went back to Highwood without going to see the murderer. She told a long story to a Sun reported and closed by saying, "Breakwell was a bad, bad man. He richly deserved just what he got: he tormented Pethke, he persecuted him until he was almost driven mad."