The Morning News

DEAD ON HIS WEDDING DAY.

The News Which Came to a Waiting Bride on Christmas Day.

From the Chicago Herald.

When the church bells were pealing out their merry chimes on Christmas morning and the sounds of happy voices were heard in almost every home, Miss Fannie Lynch, a highly accomplished and beautiful young girl, was sitting amid luxurious surroundings in her home in the Beaurivage, at 194 Michigan avenue, in utter despair and sobbing pitifully. The bright sunbeams stole through the windows, and, playing on her golden hair, seemed to unite happiness and intense sorrow. In her hand Miss Lynch held a telegram. Occasionally she read the words which her tears had nearly blotted out. "Henry is dead. Killed by the cars," the telegram read. She turned and looked at the big clock in the corner as it sounded the hour of twelve. Two hours more and happy friends and a minister would arrive, expecting to find her in bridal array. She was to have been married at 2 o'clock, but now!—the telegram told the rest of the sad story.

For more than a year Miss Lynch had been looking forward with a glad anticipation to the day when she would be united in marriage with Henry Hapgood, a wealthy and prominent young man of San Francisco. Everything was in readiness for the coming nuptials. Friends were invited, the house decorated, and an elaborate Christmas wedding supper ordered. A week before Christmas Miss Lynch received a telegram from Mr. Hapgood saying that he had started from San Francisco, and that he would arrive in Chicago the day before their wedding. When Wednesday passed and he did not come Miss Lynch thought nothing of it, thinking he would arrive Christmas morning.

She was up bright and early, and eagerly watching and waiting for him. Hour after hour passed away, but a few minutes before 11 o'clock the tinkling of a bell announced that some one was waiting to be admitted. She jumped up and hurried to the door, never dreaming that it could be other than her future husband. With a glad cry of welcome upon her lips she looked out, but suddenly drew back and reached out a trembling hand to receive a small yellow envelope which a dirty little messenger boy was holding toward her as he wished her "a merry Christmas," with a twinkle in his roguish eyes. When Miss Lynch read the message her grief was uncontrollable. The efforts of her friends to pacify her were useless. She threw herself upon a divan, and, between her choking sobs, exclaimed: "Henry! Henry! come back to me!" A few hours afterward Miss Lynch was completely prostrated with nervousness, and it was necessary to call a doctor.

The particulars of Mr. Hapgood's violent death were learned yesterday. He left San Francisco a week before Christmas day, as his message to Miss Lynch stated. The train on which he rode arrived in Hutchinson, Kan., about 8 o'clock Wednesday night. Tired out by his long journey, Mr. Hapgood stepped off the train to walk about for a few minutes. Unthinkingly he went some distance away. Turning to go back he observed that the train had started, and he began to run. When he reached the cars the train was going fast, and in attempting to get aboard he missed his footing and slipped. He hung desperately to the railing of the car, shouting at the top of his voice for assistance.

The noise of the train as it fairly flew along drowned his cries, and the passengers and the brakemen were ignorant of his perilous position. His feet were dragging along the ground, and he was so much exhausted that he did not have strength to draw himself up. A man who was passing from one car into another was attracted by his cries. He immediately tried to grasp Mr. Hapgood's hands, but before he could reach him he had released his grip, and was hurled to the ground. The steps of the cars caught his clothes, and he was dragged under the wheels. Before the train could be stopped his body had been crushed and mutilated beyond recognition. He was torn limb from limb. His body was taken back to Hutchinson and placed in the morgue. He was identified by papers found in his pocket. Hapgood had told a passenger on the train of his coming marriage, and the authorities notified Miss Lynch at once. As soon as she received the sad news H. J. Fraunche, an intimate friend, started west to bring Mr. Hapgood's body to Chicago. It arrived here this morning. Mr. Hapgood was 28 years old, and was born in Leeds, England, where his parents now live. He will be buried in this city. It will be a long time, if ever, before Miss Lynch recovers from the terrible shock.