District Attorney Thomas Penney began Czolgosz's

interrogation by first asking, "What is your name?"

"Leon Czolgosz," came the weak response, scarcely audible to the Judge.

"What is your age?"

"Twenty-eight," after some hesitation.

"Where were you born?"

"In Detroit."

"Where did you last reside?"

"In Buffalo," whispered Czolgosz. His voice seemed husky and his mouth dry. He didn't make an effort at all to speak loudly and moved about nervously while the questions were being asked.

"Where did you live in Buffalo?"

"On Broadway."

"Where on Broadway?" insisted Penney. No answer. "At Nowak's?"

"Yes," after a pause.

"What is your occupation? Do you understand the question?"

Czolgosz shook his head. It seemed as though he was hard of hearing and not understanding of all that was asked of him. Penney repeated the question distinctly and in a loud voice. Czolgosz responded as if half-stupefied.

"Yes, sir; I was a laborer."

"Are you married or single?"

"Single," came the ready response.

"Are your parents living or dead?"

"No, sir." was the answer.

"You don't understand me quite," said Penney. "Is your father living?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is your mother living?"

"No sir." Penney gave a tired glance at the jury.

"Mr. Czolgosz, have you been temperate or intemperate in the use of intoxicating liquors?" No reply.

"You don't understand the question?"

"No, sir. I don't."

Penney took a few steps toward Czolgosz and glared at him. "Do you drink much?"

"No, sir."

"Ever been drunk?" Again there was no response. "Come on, man! Do you drink much?"

"Mr. Penney, please pass on to something else," interrupted Judge White.

Penney slowly turned and gave a slight bow to the judge acknowledging his request. "Mr. Czolgosz, were you ever before convicted of a crime?"

"No, sir."

Clerk Fisher then asked, "Have you any legal cause to show now why the sentence of the court should not now be pronounced against you?"

"I cannot hear that." replied the prisoner.

The Clerk repeated the question, and Czolgosz replied, "I'd rather have this gentleman here speak," looking toward District Attorney Penney. "I can hear him much better." At this point, Judge White told all those in the courtroom to be quiet or they would be removed.

Mr. Penney then asked the prisoner, "Czolgosz, the court wants to know if you have any reason to give as to why sentence should not be pronounced against you. Have you anything to say to the judge? Say yes or no."

Czolgosz did not reply, and Judge White addressed him, saying, "In that behalf, what you have a right to say relates explicitly to the subject in hand here. What we are asking you is if there are any reasons why we should not proceed with your trial.

The first being that you claim insanity, the second being that you have good cause to offer either in arrest of the judgment about to be pronounced against you or for a new trial. Those are the grounds specified by the statute in which you have a right to speak at this time, and you are at perfect liberty to do so if you wish."

Czolgosz appeared dazed. "I have nothing to say about that."

The judge then said to Penney, "Are you ready?" Penney nodded that he was.

"Have you anything to say?" Judge White asked Czolgosz.

"Yes," replied the prisoner.

Czolgosz was then permitted to make a brief statement to the court. "There was no one else but me. No one else told me to do it, and no one paid me to do it."

"Anything further, Czolgosz?" asked Judge White.

"No, sir," he replied.

Judge White then turned in his seat and looked directly into the prisoner's eyes. "Czolgosz, in taking the life of our beloved President, you committed a crime which shocked and outraged the moral sense of the civilized world. You have confessed that guilt, and after learning all that at this time can be learned from the facts and circumstances of the case, twelve good jurors have found you guilty of murder in the first degree."

"You have said, according to the testimony of credible witnesses and yourself, that no other person aided you in the commission of this terrible act. God grant it may be so. The penalty for the crime for which you stand is fixed by this statute, and it now becomes my duty to pronounce this judgment against you. The sentence of the court is that the week beginning October 28, 1901, at the place, in the manner and means prescribed by law,

you suffer the punishment of death. May God have mercy on your soul. Remove the prisoner."

Czolgosz stood erect as the sentence was pronounced to him. He did not tremble. In fact, he never moved a muscle. His execution would be carried out by the electric chair at Auburn Prison.