The customary ceremonies were here gone through, of pinioning the convicts; and the procession once more, and for the last time, resumed its march, going up the winding staircase to the top of the lodge on which the scaffold was erected. Here all knelt down, and the Rev. Mr. Roberts offered up a prayer for heavenly mercy. The executioner now made his appearance. Davis was then conducted up the stairs to the frail scaffold, followed by Gregory. The latter bowed to the populace. Davis took no notice of those beneath, but once cast his eyes up to the fatal beam. Clarke next ascended, and was followed by Keys. The reverend divines having prayed with them a short time, and again taken leave of them, the caps were pulled down over their faces, and the fatal bolt was drawn. Keys apparently suffered much—the others died almost instantly. The crowd did not utter any expressions of approbation during the time of execution—all were quiet, and apparently were not much affected by this dreadful exhibition.
During the time occupied by the proceedings of the special commission, other inquiries were carried on scarcely less interesting to the inhabitants of Bristol. The first of these was an investigation by court-martial of the conduct of Lieutenant-Colonel Brereton in the affair. The charges made against him were, for negligence and want of due energy in assisting the civil force to suppress the tumultuous outrages of the mob during the riots in the city of Bristol on the 29th, 30th, and 31st October. The case against the defendant was opened on Monday 9th January, at the Merchant’s Hall, in the presence of a very crowded audience, including many ladies. Captain Thomson, of the 81st foot, acted as Deputy Judge Advocate. Mr. Erle was counsel for Colonel Brereton; and General D’Albiac, at the command of his Majesty, conducted the prosecution. Colonel Brereton, on the charges being read over, pleaded Not Guilty.
General D’Albiac opened the case, calling upon the Court to form their judgment strictly upon the evidence, and to relieve their minds from all extraneous observations which might have arisen elsewhere.
The first witness called was Mr. Serjeant Ludlow, town-clerk of Bristol. He was at the Mansion-house on Saturday the 29th of October, from twelve at noon till twelve at night. There was a riotous and tumultuous assemblage in front of the house; the troops were called out under the command of Colonel Brereton; orders were given to Colonel Brereton to clear the streets, disperse the mob, and get the city quiet; this was not peremptorily and effectively done; the riots continued at intervals till twelve o’clock at night. The following statement was then made by the learned serjeant:—When Lieutenant-Colonel Brereton and the troops came to the Mansion-house door, the people on the outside were engaged in battering the front door; they had battered in one of the windows on the ground-floor, and some of them had entered into the dining-room. The immediate effect of the arrival of the troops was to remove them from the front of the Mansion-house, but they did not withdraw far. I repeatedly noticed, that the people having withdrawn from the streets while the soldiers were passing, immediately afterwards returned again to the front of the very door of the Mansion-house; occasionally stones were thrown at the windows, and indications of tumult and violence did not appear to me to have decreased materially. Colonel Brereton occasionally went down stairs and returned, and said that the people appeared to be very good-humoured, and he had no doubt he could drive them away by merely walking the horses. Just before one of these occasions, two of the soldiers of the 14th were brought in wounded—one of them very seriously. I asked Colonel Brereton if he thought that a symptom of good-humour on the part of the people out of doors? I said also they appeared to me to be increasing in number rather than lessening; and it certainly was intimated to him that it would be desirable to get the city quiet. The effect of his answers was such as to induce me to ask him if he had any recent instructions from the War Office to prevent him from attending to the directions of the magistrates? He said, “My directions are to attend to the orders of the magistrates.” I then said, the mayor and one or two of the aldermen being near, “Your directions are immediately to clear the streets, and to get the city quiet as soon as you can,” or to that effect. Some sort of cavalry movement was made in the interior of the square, where the people had collected; they were driven from the green part of the square, and entered the courts in front of the houses, and occasionally returned to the front of the Mansion-house, and continued the same kind of conduct which had prevailed the early part of the evening; in short, they were not effectually dispersed. Late in the evening, probably eleven o’clock, an officer of dragoons came into the room where we were. Colonel Brereton was in the room at the time. The officer stated, that his troops were receiving considerable annoyance in one of the streets near the Mansion-house, the situation of which he described. He said, that the lights (lamps) had been put out—that it was quite dark—and that the people, when followed by the soldiers, retreated into some boats or barges lying in the river, from which they annoyed the troops, and where of course the troops could not follow them; he said he wished to fire a few ball-cartridges in that direction. One of the magistrates, I believe Mr. Alderman Daniel, said, that in the situation in which the boats were described to be, there were probably a good many people going from market in the market-boats, and it would be desirable to avoid injuring those persons if possible. One of the gentlemen present, I believe a special constable, said, “Let me have twenty-five men, and be supported by the troops, and I will undertake to go down and dislodge the people in the boats.” That operation certainly would have been undertaken if it had not been for what Colonel Brereton said. He said, “If you’ll take my advice, you’ll let them alone; it’s getting very late, and I dare say they will go quietly home to bed.” Some observation was made as to the necessity of getting the city in a state of peace and quietness; upon which Colonel Brereton answered, his men should patrole the streets during the night, and that he would be answerable for the peace of the city, or words to that effect. The officer of the 14th went away, and Colonel Brereton retired shortly afterwards.
Several other witnesses were called, whose testimony went to show considerable want of energy on the part of the colonel, as well as mistaken lenity, that led to the perpetration of outrages, which, had a more decided and vigorous policy been adopted, might have been prevented.
The inquiry had proceeded to a very considerable length, and on Friday was approaching a termination, when an event occurred which effectually put a stop to all further investigation, while it cast an additional gloom upon this most lamentable affair. It appears, that the gallant colonel seemed to feel the full force of the evidence against him as it went on, and was obviously much depressed. On quitting the court on Thursday afternoon, he went, as usual, to Reeve’s Hotel, where he remained during the evening. At twelve o’clock his gardener brought his horse and gig, and he drove home to his house, called Bedfield Lodge, about a mile and a half from the city. He retired to his room without exciting any particular remark on the part of his servants; but about three in the morning his housekeeper heard the report of a pistol: she immediately called the guard and footman, who entered his room, and found the unhappy man weltering in his blood on the bed. Life was extinct; and on examination it turned out that he had shot himself through the heart. Surgical assistance was instantly summoned, but it was without avail. The news of the melancholy event reached Bristol at an early hour on Friday morning, and produced a most painful sensation in all ranks.
The effect of this tragical circumstance was the termination of this court-martial, which, however, was followed by another upon Captain Warrington, the inferior officer of Colonel Brereton at Bristol, at the time of the riots. The insertion of the following paragraph, however, which appeared in most of the public prints of the day, will be deemed only just to the memory of Colonel Brereton, before we proceed to the conclusion of this dreadful business:—“The proceedings of the court-martial evidently preyed on his susceptible and humane mind. He is acknowledged by all parties to have been a man of the most kindly and benevolent disposition, and during the eight years he has held the command of the district, was universally respected. He has been a widower for above two years, and has left two daughters, the one five, and the other three years old. He had served abroad, and distinguished himself as a brave and excellent officer. He was fifty years of age, thirty-three of which he had been a soldier; and as a testimony of the regard in which he was held, had received a sword, value two hundred guineas, from his brother officers. There is no doubt his mistaken lenity was influenced by his desire to avoid shedding human blood, and a conviction that he should have been able to pacify the mob without proceeding to those extremities which his duty under the circumstances clearly demanded. It would be ungenerous now, however, to dwell on the errors of one whose fate every feeling heart must deplore.”
It was on Wednesday the 25th of January that the court-martial upon Captain Warrington commenced its proceedings. The charges preferred were three in number. The first imputed that, on the night of the 30th of October 1831, being in personal command of a troop of the 3d Dragoons in the city of Bristol, at the time when the most outrageous and alarming riots prevailed, although required by Mr. Thomas Kington, a merchant of the city, who required his aid, and that of the military under his command, to prevent the firing of the Custom-House, he not only refused to act, but neglected to inform Colonel Brereton, his superior officer, of the information he had received.
The second charge imputed, that the following letter from Mr. Charles Pinney, the mayor, to Colonel Brereton, was delivered to Captain Warrington, which he read, but neither acted upon it nor forwarded it to his commanding officer.
“Bristol, Three o’clock Monday Morning, 31st October 1831.
“Sir—I direct you, as commanding officer of his Majesty’s troops, to take the most vigorous, effective, and decisive measures in your power to quell the existing riot, and prevent further destruction of property.
“I am, &c.
C. Pinney.”
An hour elapsed with the troops inactive after the letter was delivered, and in consequence great mischief was done. Several houses were sacked, and property to a large amount destroyed.
The third charge accused the Captain of neglecting to command his troops in person, and leaving them to the guidance of a young cornet, only sixteen months in the service, while he was absent from his quarters or retired to bed.
The evidence adduced was merely a repetition of those details which had already become perfectly notorious.
Captain Warrington commenced his defence on Monday the 30th of January, and, in a clear and manly speech, touched upon all the charges which had been preferred against him, and in a short narrative endeavoured to prove that when there was any apparent want of energy, or exertion, on his part, it arose, not from want of inclination in him, but from the omission of orders from his superior officer, or the absence of those magistrates who would have justified his proceeding even without the commands of Colonel Brereton. With regard to his temporary absence from his troop, he accounted for it by stating, that he had gone to General Pearson to ask his advice, and, on his return, was labouring under a fit of the ague, brought on from being repeatedly exposed to the rain, for the two preceding days; he retired to change his dress, and when his personal presence was officially and regularly required, he lost no time in heading his troop, and assisting in dispersing the rioters. He adverted to his past services under similar circumstances, and appealed to these, as well as to his conduct throughout his military career, as the best refutation of his having intentionally neglected the important duties imposed upon him. The address seemed to make a deep impression, and apparently went to remove all serious imputation from him as an officer and a gentleman. The witnesses called for the defence went to give the most satisfactory explanation of the course which the gallant officer had pursued throughout.—The following curious evidence was given by Major Beckwith, of the 14th Dragoons, on Tuesday:—“I must relate in what manner I saw the civil and military authorities co-operating, in order to show to the court the difficulties under which I saw Captain Warrington acting. On reaching Bristol, on Monday morning the 31st of October, I immediately went to the Council-house, where I found the mayor and several magistrates, who appeared to me bewildered and stupefied with terror. On hearing the state of affairs in the city of Bristol from those gentlemen, I urged that one or more magistrates should accompany me on horseback, for the purpose of restoring order. They all refused to accompany me, saying, it would make them unpopular, and cause all their property to be destroyed; they also added, that none of them could ride on horseback; and the one I requested to accompany me said he had not been on horseback for eighteen years. Seeing, therefore, that any assistance from the magistrates would be out of the question, I demanded to receive from them a written authority to take what measures I deemed expedient. From what I have related, and from what I saw in another quarter, to which I cannot refer, the impression of my mind was, that Captain Warrington and the 3rd Dragoon Guards were in a great measure paralysed by the imbecility and misconduct of those who ought to have directed them. I have further to state, that during the time I had a personal opportunity of observing Captain Warrington, he appeared to me alert, zealous, and desirous of doing his duty.”
On the following Thursday, General D’Albiac replied to the defence of Captain Warrington; and this closed the case.
The decision of the court was not, however, promulgated, in obedience to the usual course, until it had first been submitted to his Majesty; but on the 21st of February, it was intimated to Captain Warrington that he had been found guilty, and was sentenced to be cashiered; but that he was recommended to mercy, and that his Majesty, having listened to the recommendation, had been pleased to authorise his disposing of his commission.
There were yet other persons in authority whose conduct upon this occasion it was deemed fit should be the subject of a judicial investigation. Reports unfavourable to the character and demeanour of the magistracy of Bristol had been circulated; and the necessity of allaying the irritation of the public mind, as well as of determining the real extent of blame to be attached to the mayor and aldermen, was felt too strongly to admit of this final inquisition being omitted. It was not, however, until Thursday the 25th of October 1832, that the case came on for trial. It was then brought before the Court of King’s Bench, upon an information preferred against Mr. Charles Pinney, the mayor, and was decided by a special jury selected from the County of Berks.
The Attorney-General proceeded to state the facts to the jury, and said, he had no doubt he should be able to adduce evidence to prove that the defendant had neglected his duty as chief magistrate, and that he was guilty of the misdemeanour charged in the information.
Mr. John W. Newcombe was the first witness examined. After detailing the scenes already described, and the inertness of the police, in his cross-examination he said that he did say, on being applied to, to act as special constable to protect Sir Charles Wetherell, he would not do so, but said he would not injure him; and he had repeatedly said since, that it would have been better had Sir Charles been thrown over the bridge than that so many lives and so much property should have been destroyed. A similar feeling seemed to exist with many others, who had been applied to in a similar manner, and it was evident that the magistrates found great difficulty to get a sufficient number of persons to act on that occasion. Several other witnesses were examined, making out a strong case against the defendant. A good deal of amusement was excited in court by the description given by one of the witnesses of the escape of the mayor from the Mansion-house, during the heat of the attack. The witness said, in his examination, “I saw the mayor in the larder, on the ground-floor. I believe it is called the larder: it is the men’s water-closet as well, but they hang up meat there (a laugh). There were three or four female servants with his worship (renewed laughter). They were making great efforts to get up on the leads—the female servants and his worship (a laugh). His worship, seeing me, said, ‘For God’s sake, young man, assist me up.’ I stooped down and helped his worship up, the female servants assisting him behind. (Here the laughter became so loud that Lord Tenterden found it necessary to censure it in strong terms as foolish and indecent.) We got the mayor up on the leads, myself and the female servants, and he got away over the wall.”
The inquiry continued until the following Thursday, and then terminated by a verdict of acquittal.
This, we believe was the last of the proceedings which arose out of these dreadful riots, if we except those which were carried on by those persons whose property had suffered damage through the violence of the mob. The extent of the mischief done could never be properly or specifically calculated; but its amount could be scarcely computed at less than 300,000l. The injuries done to property, however, were not those only which were to be regretted. The destruction of the buildings of the town, splendid and costly as they were, was small in importance compared with the loss of human life, and the personal violence sustained by many of those who were engaged in these proceedings. Of those whose misguided or wicked desires led them into this terrible fray, who died of the wounds which they sustained, a number scarcely less than twenty was discovered; and it is reasonable to suppose, that others also shared a like unhappy fate, whose death accident, or the design of their friends, concealed from public notice. Many were taken to the hospitals of the city, gorged with drink, who died from the combined effects of intoxication and exposure, while others were brought in at the last gasp, suffering from the effects of the wounds inflicted by the weapons of the soldiery, or produced by the falling of buildings, which they had themselves fired or overthrown. Some even yet retained in their possession the fruits of their rapine, and were found to have their pockets crammed with money, or other valuables. Of the number who fell victims to their own temerity, in their anxiety to complete the hellish work of destruction which they had commenced, and who were smothered in the falling ruins of burning houses, it is impossible to form an accurate calculation. They were principally of the very lowest and most abandoned classes of the people; and their loss was scarcely discovered, even by their oldest companions and most intimate associates. The number of wounded was of course much larger, and equally difficult to be properly estimated. Many, it is true, received surgical relief on the spot; but still there were great numbers who abstained from an open admission of their condition, in order to avoid the probability of those future proceedings, the result of which might have been more inconvenient than the injuries which they had received. Hundreds in this way concealed the effects of their own violence; but their crippled or maimed appearance eventually told too plainly the tale of their guilt.
With regard to the conduct of the magistracy and the military upon this occasion, it does not become us to offer any observations. The demeanour of both was the subject of legal investigation; and the determination arrived at must be deemed to have been both correct and conclusive. The want of energy which, it must be admitted, was exhibited, must nevertheless be the subject of universal and most sincere and painful regret.
JONATHAN SMITHERS.
EXECUTED FOR ARSON AND MURDER.
ON Monday morning, May the 28th, 1832, a fire broke out in the lower part of the house, No. 398, Oxford-street, in the occupation of Mr. Jonathan Smithers, a tobacconist, which was attended with very serious consequences. At about six o’clock the police ascertained the existence of a conflagration at the lower part of the house, by the sudden issue of a large quantity of smoke and flame from the shop and house doors, and from the fan-light over the latter; and proceeding immediately to the spot, they found Mr. Smithers endeavouring to make his escape into the street by means of the area, communicating with the kitchen. All his efforts to gain the footway, and those of the people, who had in a few moments assembled, to force the railings of the area, however, proved unavailing, and Mr. Smithers was at length compelled to retire through the kitchen; and making his way up the stairs, which were on fire, he succeeded in reaching the shop, from which he rushed into the street, much burnt about his face and hands, and with his clothes on fire in many places. The sudden admission of air to the house through the shop door tended to increase the fury of the flames; and before any alarm could be conveyed to the inmates, who were asleep within, nearly the whole of the lower part of the premises was on fire. Mr. Smithers was immediately conveyed to the Middlesex Hospital, in order that the wounds which he received might be dressed; and almost before he had quitted the spot, the lodgers and other remaining occupants of the house had been made acquainted with their dangerous situation. Their first impulse was to escape by the stairs; but this they found to be utterly impracticable; and the scene which soon presented itself to the by-standers in the street was of the most heart-rending description. At almost every window were to be seen persons, male and female, bewailing their dreadful situation, and imploring aid with uplifted hands. The servant-girl at the third-floor window made signs that she would throw herself into the street, but was entreated to endeavour to descend to a lower floor, before she made so hazardous an attempt to save her life. The cries which were addressed to her prevailed, and she soon appeared at the second-floor front room, having experienced considerable difficulty in making her way down the staircase. Several men then ranged themselves under the window to catch her in her descent; and the girl, exerting her courage, presently found strength of mind to throw herself out, and alighted safely in the arms of one of those below. The man was knocked down, and considerably hurt, but the girl walked away comparatively uninjured.
But the worst part of our narrative is yet to be related. The second floor of the house was occupied by an elderly lady, named Twamley, and her family, consisting of two daughters, Eliza and Caroline, an orphan boy about eleven years of age, named Farengo, the nephew of the young ladies, and a Miss Thomasin, their niece. When this family became sensible of their danger, all hopes of escaping by the staircase had vanished, and they ran from window to window in a state of mind bordering on distraction Miss Eliza Twamley held the boy in her arms, and appeared more alarmed for his safety than her own. Terror-stricken, she remained at the window, unable to adopt any decisive course, until at length the flames caught what clothes she had on. The boy seized hold of the window, but was precipitated to the ground on his head—his aunt at the same moment appeared to be suffocated by the smoke, and fell back immediately under the window, a prey to the flames. Mrs. Twamley, it appears, was seventy years of age, and was in the last stage of chronic asthma,—unable to get out of bed. Her daughter Caroline heroically endeavoured to save her from the impending danger: seizing her in her arms, with strength increased by the frightful nature of her position, she raised her from the bed, and bore her through the window to some leads at the rear of the house, from which she hoped to be able to escape, or at which she thought they might remain until the flames should be extinguished. Her position was seen by some of the neighbours living at the back; and they called to her to beware of an abyss which lay in her path, and which separated the leads of Smithers’ house from others at the rear of some other premises, and that they would rescue her from her perilous situation. A ladder was procured, and raised against the place where she stood; but before efficient aid could be rendered her, overcome by fright, she dropped to the leads below, with her mother in her arms. The distance which they fell was from twelve to fourteen feet; and both ladies were materially injured. Mrs. Twamley was immediately conveyed to a place of safety, where medical aid was procured; but death put an end to her sufferings after a period of two hours. Miss Twamley also received such medical assistance as her injuries required.
The other inmates of the house, whose escape we have not mentioned, were Miss Thomasin, M. Guissamere, a Frenchman, a Mr. Davis, and Mrs. Smithers; all of whom succeeded in quitting the house by the back premises. The engines, during the time occupied by these occurrences, had reached the spot, and instantly playing upon the burning house, succeeded in extinguishing the flame, and preventing them from extending to the adjoining premises, but not until they had completely destroyed the house in which they had originated, and every article of furniture and stock which it contained. Immediate search was then made for the remains of Miss E. Twamley; and they were discovered at the very spot at which she had been seen to fall, presenting a dreadful and melancholy spectacle. The arms and feet were entirely burned off, and the intestines protruded from the body, through some wound which had been caused by the falling upon her of some rafters. Her remains were immediately wrapped in blankets, and conveyed to the workhouse.
On the following day, Tuesday, a coroner’s inquest was held on the body of Miss Twamley; and in the course of the inquiry disclosures of a most painful nature were made, tending to show that the house had been wilfully set on fire, and that means had been adopted to secure this object of a nature which left no doubt of the intention of the incendiary; and, further, that Mr. Smithers was the person to whom suspicion of guilt of this diabolical act attached. The main points upon which this suspicion rested were these:—It appeared from the statements of the various witnesses, that Mr. and Mrs. Smithers had lived for some time upon bad terms, and that frequent quarrels had taken place between them upon the subject of some property belonging to the latter, and of which the former desired to possess himself. On the night of Sunday, the 27th of May, Mr. Davis, the lodger, was let in by Smithers himself at about twelve o’clock, and he went down to the water-closet, which was situated at the bottom of the kitchen stairs. He observed a quantity of shavings about the stairs, and saw that his landlord was engaged in doing something with the shavings, the precise nature of which he appeared anxious to conceal. The servant had gone to bed early; and, contrary to custom, she had been directed to occupy an upper room on the third floor, instead of her usual apartment (the kitchen), and her master and mistress had their bed prepared in the back parlour. Smithers, about ten days before the fire, had purchased two sacks full of shavings; and these had been deposited, apparently with some object, in a vaulted cellar at the back of the house, with a quantity of old baskets and boxes, and other rubbish of the same description. On the day after the fire, a minute examination of the premises was made by Mr. Abrahams, a surveyor; and the discoveries which he made at once proved the fire to have been intentionally caused. He ascertained that the conflagration had originated at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, immediately in front of the water-closet, where the remains of burned shavings were distinctly perceptible. In the back vaults, adjoining the kitchen, there were even stronger proofs. A species of devil, formed of gunpowder pressed into a card, was found, communicating by a train to a heap of shavings at one end, and to a mass of easily ignitable rubbish at the other. Fire had been communicated to the shavings, which were placed upon a wooden shelf or dresser; but, in consequence of the interposition of a piece of greased paper which had been placed among them—apparently with a view of increasing the volume of flame, but which, in truth, had had the effect of extinguishing it altogether—the train of powder was not ignited, and the whole remained, affording distinct evidence of the act of incendiarism.
These, with other corroborating circumstances, were deemed of so suspicious a nature, that a verdict of wilful murder was returned by the coroner’s jury, in the case of Miss Twamley, against Mr. Smithers, who was still in the hospital, and a warrant for his apprehension was issued.
At an inquest held on the body of Mrs. Twamley, a verdict was returned that she had died from fright; but the poor boy Farengo subsequently also died from the injuries which he had received; and in this case also a verdict of wilful murder was returned.
On Tuesday, the 12th of June, Smithers was removed to Newgate to await his trial upon the charge upon which he was already in custody, from Middlesex Hospital, where he had been confined by the injuries which he had received.
On Friday, the 6th of July, he was put upon his trial upon an indictment charging him with the murder of Miss Eliza Twamley, and of the boy Charles Richard Napoleon Farengo. The facts which had been disclosed before the coroner were again proved in evidence; and, after a lengthy inquiry, a verdict of “Guilty” was returned at two o’clock in the morning. Sentence of death was immediately pronounced upon the wretched man, and he was ordered for execution on the following Monday.
Upon his being conveyed to his cell after his conviction, he was repeatedly urged to confess the justice of the result of the trial, but he steadily persevered in avoiding giving any direct answer to the question; and although he never asserted his innocence of the crime, he could not be prevailed upon to make a confession. His demeanour throughout the trying scene of his receiving sentence, and from that time up to the period of his execution, was remarkable for the extreme coolness which it displayed. On Sunday his wife had her last interview with him, and although their meeting was of an affecting nature, the feelings of neither party appeared to be so much worked upon as is common upon such occasions. The wretched man conversed with her freely, and declared that from his boyhood he had always thought that he should die upon the scaffold. He had conceived the idea while playing with other boys in a churchyard, and it had never forsaken him.
His wife left him at an early hour, and he employed the remainder of his time in religious exercises and conversations with the ordinary. Before he retired to rest, he wrote a short letter to his wife; he appeared now deeply affected, but when it was concluded he became more composed, and declared himself to be quite comfortable. He took a great deal of rest during the night, but rose at an early hour to be ready to receive the attendant minister. At a few minutes before eight o’clock he was conducted to the press-room to be pinioned. His demeanour in the course of this trying scene was wild and hysterical; but as his last moments approached, he prayed with much composure. At eight o’clock he was carried to the scaffold, and there expiated his crimes.
Smithers, it appears, had carried on business for a considerable period in the shop in Oxford-street. He was insured for nearly 700l., which may in some degree account for his being guilty of the diabolical crime of which he was convicted. Miss Twamley, the victim of his foul machinations, had been a dancer at Covent Garden Theatre, and was a fine young woman. Her nephew, who was also killed, was the son of a deceased married sister. Miss Caroline Twamley was visited during a long illness, which succeeded the dreadful events which we have detailed, by many persons of distinction, who took a kind and generous interest in her welfare.
The prosecution of Smithers was carried on at the expense of the parish of St. Ann, Westminster. His execution took place on Monday, the 9th of July 1832.
JAMES COOK.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF MR. PAAS.
THIS diabolical murder of which Cook was guilty, attracted a very considerable portion of the public attention.
Mr. Paas, it appears, was a respectable tradesman carrying on a business at No. 44, High Holborn, London, as a manufacturer of such brass instruments as are used by bookbinders. Cook, his murderer, was a bookbinder at Leicester. Mr. Paas was in the habit of taking occasional journeys in the way of business, and in the course of his travels Cook became his customer, and ordered goods of him to the extent of about 25l. Cook at this time was twenty-one years of age, and he had only recently entered upon the business of his deceased master in a small yard leading out of Wellington-street, Leicester, upon his own account. In the month of May 1832, the usual period of credit had expired, and Mr. Paas wrote to Cook saying, that he should visit Leicester in a few days, when he hoped to receive the amount of his bill. On Wednesday, May the 30th, Mr. Paas accordingly arrived in Leicester, and put up at the Stag and Pheasant Inn. In the afternoon he quitted that house, and proceeded upon his rounds for the purpose of collecting the accounts due to him in the town. He called at several places, and amongst others at the house of Cook; but after leaving there, he was seen by one of his customers, of whom he made inquiries as to Cook’s solvency, and whom he informed that he had already called upon him to pay an account, and that he had been requested to call again in the evening. Mr. Paas was not seen alive again after this; and the result showed that he had been wilfully and most diabolically murdered by his customer and debtor.
The only proof by which the unfortunate gentleman was traced to the workshop of Cook was that of his apprentice boy, Charles Wilkinson, aged fourteen years. He was at the shop of his master on the afternoon of Wednesday, and he saw a person come there, whose appearance, from his description, agreed with that of Mr. Paas. Immediately on his being seen by his master, he told him (Wilkinson) that he might go away and remain at home until he called for him—a circumstance quite unusual, and rendered the more remarkable from the great quantity of work which his master then had to do.
The circumstances attending the discovery of the murder, and the consequent apprehension of Cook, are of an extraordinary and interesting nature. The workshop which he occupied, it appears, was situated over a cow-house in the occupation of a Mr. Sawbridge, a milkman. On the evening of Wednesday, the 30th of May, a very large fire was observed to be blazing in his workshop; but as considerable heat was known to be occasionally necessary to be employed in his trade, no notice was taken of the occurrence. At about eight o’clock Cook visited the Flying Horse, a beer-shop in the immediate neighbourhood of his workroom, and having called for some drink, and played a game of skittles with an undisturbed aspect, he requested change of a sovereign. The landlord, Mr. Nokes, produced the coin necessary, and Cook on giving him the sovereign took from his pocket a silk purse containing money to a very considerable amount in gold, silver, and notes. This excited some surprise, but no remark was made, and Cook went away returning apparently to his workshop. After a short time, however, he went to Mrs. Sawbridge, and told her that he should work during the night in order to finish some articles which he had in hand, and desired her therefore not to be frightened if she should see that he had a fire. At half-past ten o’clock he returned to his workshop, being let in by Sawbridge; and from that hour until half-past four o’clock on the next morning nothing was seen of him, although it was evident that he remained in his room, as he was unable to quit the premises without the knowledge of his landlord. A strong light was observed in his workshop, and he was heard occasionally moving about, both in the house and in the yard; but although his father went to look for him and to inquire into the cause of his unexpected absence from home during the night, he made no answer.
At half-past four o’clock Sawbridge rose for the purpose of milking his cows. He found his tenant still in his workshop, attired in his usual working clothes, and apparently employed at his trade of bookbinding. Cook inquired whether he was going to milk his cows, and he answered that he was, at a place called Stoney-gate House, about four miles off on the London road. Cook declared that he felt faint and sick after sitting up all night, and that he should like a walk to refresh himself; and having locked his room, he walked away to the fields in company with his landlord and a man named Sumpter, who joined them. They talked upon indifferent subjects, and Cook employed himself in keeping the cows together, while Sawbridge milked them in succession; and then they walked back to Wellington-street, the former re-entering his own workshop, while the latter proceeded to his ordinary occupation of carrying out the milk.
On Thursday evening the murder was discovered. At about ten o’clock the appearance of an unusual degree of light in the workshop of Cook attracted observation, and the neighbours having assembled, fears were expressed that the premises had caught fire. The window-blinds were down, and from without no distinct information could be obtained of the existence or non-existence of any conflagration, and an entrance to the building was in consequence determined on. Mr. Timson, a broker residing within two doors, was the person by whom the performance of this work was undertaken, and reaching the top of the stairs leading to Cook’s workshop, he burst open the door, and immediately entered that apartment. He found that the fire which had been kindled in the grate was extended far beyond its usual bounds, and a large piece of flesh was on the top of it burning. The flesh was taken off and put on the floor, and then the fire was raked out and extinguished. Many persons had by this time reached the spot, and great curiosity was expressed to know the nature of the flesh which had been found, as well as the reason for consuming it. Many declared their impression that it was horse-flesh; but Cook was sent for, in order that he might explain the mysterious and suspicious circumstances attending its discovery. He was found at his father’s house undressed, and apparently about to retire to rest; but on his being informed of the nature of the inquiry which was proceeding, he immediately dressed himself, and accompanied the messenger who had been despatched in search of him to Wellington-street. On his way thither, he asked with great anxiety whether the flesh which had been found was scorched all over; and being answered in the negative, he exhibited much agitation. He, however, afterwards learned the nature of the supposition of its discoverers of its being horse-flesh, and appeared more easy. On his reaching Wellington-street he was questioned upon the subject of the flesh, and his answers showed the facility with which he was able to coin plausible excuses for the act of which he had been guilty. He declared that the flesh was horse-flesh, and that he had bought it for the purpose of feeding a dog, for the purchase of which he had been bargaining; but he added, that the owner of the dog having refused to allow him to become its purchaser, and the meat having become partially putrescent, he had determined to burn it to get rid of it. He was told that he had nearly set the house on fire in his exertions; when his answer was, “Well, it’s all out now, so let us lock the door and go.” In answer to further inquiries, he said, that he had purchased the flesh of a man, whose name he did not know, in the Humberstone-gate. The circumstances which had been ascertained, however, aided by the discovery of an attempt on the part of Cook to conceal his proceedings in his workshop by pasting thick paper over his windows, tended to attach considerable suspicion to his conduct in the transaction, and Measures, a constable, having arrived on the spot, he deemed it to be his duty to take him into custody. An undefinable terror appeared to pervade the minds of all upon the subject of the flesh which had been found, but none could fix any idea even in their own minds as to the real nature of the occurrence which excited at once their alarm and suspicion. The flesh was taken by Measures to his own house for better security, and his prisoner was conveyed by him at once to the mayor’s office. Here, however, a difficulty presented itself. The mayor could not be found, and the constable was driven to act upon his own authority and responsibility. From his acquaintance with Cook he knew him to be a person to whom a good general character attached, and he was unwilling upon suspicions so vague as those which were entertained to lock him up all night. He, therefore, informed him, that if he could procure good bail for his appearance on the next day, to answer any charge which might be preferred, he would liberate him; and his father having become responsible for his re-production when he should be required, he was at once discharged out of custody.
On the following day he was sent for by the mayor, with a view to his examination upon the subject of the discoveries of the preceding night, but he had absconded.
The suspicions already entertained were now still further excited, and a surgical examination of the piece of flesh was determined upon. Its result was the expression of the belief of Messrs. Denton, and others, surgeons, that it was part of a human body!
Instant minute inquiries were set on foot with a view to its being ascertained whether any person was missing from the town; and the non-return of Mr. Paas to his inn at once led to a belief that he had fallen a victim to the barbarous machinations of Cook, and that he had been murdered, and his remains thus mutilated and consumed. A universal sensation of horror was created as this idea gained ground, and evidence confirming the general impression was soon obtained upon an examination of the premises of the supposed murderer. In the chimney of his workshop was found all that remained unburnt or unscorched of the body of the unfortunate Mr. Paas. Two thighs and a leg, separated from each other and from the main trunk of the body apparently with great determination by a knife and a saw, were found suspended from a nail by a cord, in the chimney, about a yard and a half above the fireplace, evidently awaiting only the favourable opportunity when they too might be consumed, and so all trace of the murder be destroyed. In the room were also discovered the leg of a pair of black trousers, covered with blood, together with a snuff-box, an eye-glass, a pencil-case, with the letter “P” engraved on it, and some fragments of cloth, much stained with blood. Among the ashes were found the horrible remains of the deceased, in the shape of calcined bones; but there was also discovered a gaiter, of a description known to have been worn by Mr. Paas. The floor of the room had evidently been recently scraped and scoured; but evident marks of some dark fluid having flown over it were still visible. Other evidence, presented by the discoveries in this room, pointed out the mode of the death of the deceased, and the method in which his body had
Apprehension of Jerry Avershaw.
p. 348.
been cut in pieces, in order the more readily to be burned. On the table was seen a bill, in the name of Mr. Paas, on Cook for 12s.; and at the foot of this instrument was the word “settled,” followed by the two letters “J. P.” It had been the habit of Mr. Paas invariably to sign his name in full to such receipts, and in this instance it appeared as if he had not intended to depart from his custom, but that having reached the completion of the letter P, he had received a severe blow, by which the pen in his hand had been driven in a direction across the preceding letter “J,” a deep and heavily pressed ink-mark being perceptible on the paper, as if such had been the case. The instrument of attack was discovered, in a heavy species of hammer used by bookbinders in their trade.
A new and minute examination of the fireplace proved that the murderer had not so far succeeded in his object of destroying the body of his victim as was at first supposed. A mis-shapen and most unsightly mass of matter, which no one would have supposed, upon an ordinary inspection, could ever have formed any portion of the human frame, was found among the cinders; and upon its being submitted to the scrutiny of surgeons, it was declared by them to be the lower part of the abdomen, and a part of the thighs of the human body; but all was dreadfully disfigured by the action of the fire, and it was evident that large collops of flesh had been cut from it, with a view apparently to its more speedy destruction and disfigurement. The fireplace was found to have been in some degree enlarged by the removal of one or two bricks; and across the top of it were to be seen two bars of iron, placed there so as to serve as a gridiron, on which the flesh might be placed in its progress of consumption. No trace of the trunk of the body or the head of the deceased, however, could be found, and it became the general impression that these had been removed, and had been buried somewhere in the outskirts of the town.
These new discoveries at once fixed the identity of the deceased, and the fact of his having been murdered, with intelligence of the melancholy occurrence, was immediately conveyed to the friends of the unhappy gentleman, in London, together with an intimation of the flight of the murderer. The feelings excited by such a communication to Mrs. Paas and her family were of a nature to be more easily imagined than described; but the firm of Barker, Denton, and Choffin, attorneys of Gray’s Inn, was at once called upon to take the necessary steps to secure the apprehension and conviction of Cook. Mr. Barker, in consequence, applied immediately at Bow-street for the assistance of the metropolitan police-officers, and a warrant was at once issued, and placed in the hands of an officer for execution. A reward of 100l. was also offered for the apprehension of Cook, and every step was taken by which it could be hoped to bring him to justice.
On Sunday the 3rd of June, an inquest was held upon the remains of deceased, at the Dog and Gun, in the Market-street, Leicester. The facts which we have detailed were then proved in evidence, and the additional testimony of a person named George Cooke, living at Loughborough, and occasionally driving the coach between that place and Manchester, was obtained, which tended to confirm the suspicions entertained against Cook, and at the same time to exhibit the line which he had taken in his endeavours to escape from the pursuing hand of justice. Cooke stated that on the previous Friday morning, at a quarter after five o’clock, he was in the stable-yard of the Black Horse Inn, at Loughborough, when he saw a person who was a stranger (but who was now known to be Cook, from the description given of his appearance) conversing with the stable-boy. He appeared dirty, as if he had been up all night and in the roads; but as it was fair-time, he concluded that he had been larking, and did not take much notice of the circumstance. The witness joined in the conversation, and presently the stranger produced a small broach from his shirt-front, which he said he had picked up. He expressed a wish to sell it, and the witness finally bought it for two shillings. The man afterwards produced a silver watch, with a gold chain and seals, which he said his father had purchased for him for 40l.; and then he declared his desire to procure change for a 5l. or a 10l. note. He brought a green silk purse from his pocket, and took a note of each denomination from a number of papers which it contained, and at the same time exhibited a large sum of money in gold. The witness endeavoured to procure change for him, but could not, and left him. He subsequently learned that the man had gone on by coach and railroad to Liverpool. The brooch was produced by the witness, and it was instantly recognised by several friends of the deceased gentleman to be one which he had constantly worn, and which he had received as a mourning token upon the death of a friend named Mancell.
Upon this testimony the jury returned a verdict, that the remains which had been discovered were those of Mr. Paas, and that he had been wilfully murdered by James Cook.
A few days sufficed to bring this atrocious malefactor to justice. Cummins, an officer of Leicester, had started in pursuit of him, and he succeeded in apprehending him on Tuesday on the point of joining a vessel just sailing from Liverpool for America. It had been ascertained by this active officer, that the object of his search had made for Liverpool; and he entertained little doubt that his intention was to reach one of the vessels which was then about to sail for America, after their quitting the harbour. For the purpose of more easily watching the anticipated movements of his prey, he and his assistant stationed themselves on the Chester side of the river Mersey, and, with a boat and crew always ready, remained anxiously awaiting the anticipated necessity for exertion. A constant look-out enabled them to criticise the appearance of every boat which put out, and their watch did not extend to a very long one. To the disgrace of the watermen of Liverpool, there were to be found among them men who, for adequate remuneration, were always ready and willing to succour those who were flying from punishment—no matter what their crimes might be—by carrying them off to the ships which should be lying in the channel, outward-bound. Cook had succeeded in procuring the aid of a crew of these men, and, at an early hour on Tuesday morning, the 5th of June, he put off from the shore. The movements of the party did not escape the vigilant observation of Cummins and his well-experienced assistants, and their object soon became apparent. They were allowed to get well out to sea, however, before any effort was made to pursue them; but then Cummins, with his active crew, immediately started in pursuit. They gained rapidly on the small boat in which the object of their search was; but he, finding himself in danger of being secured, at once ordered his men to make for the shore. They had already reached the shallow water, when the pursuing boat came close astern. Cook, who appeared frantic with desperation, jumped overboard, with an intention to drown himself; but the water was too shallow for his purpose, and finding himself disappointed in this object, he drew a phial from his pocket, the contents of which he was about to drink, when, however, his hand was seized by Cummins, and so forcibly compressed that the bottle was broken, and its liquid contents, whatever they may have been, lost in the sea. The wretched man was now secured by the officers and conveyed to Liverpool, and he there immediately underwent an examination before the magistrates of that city. The nature of the charge was stated, and his identity having been proved, he was at once ordered to be conveyed to Leicester.
At his own request, he was allowed to remain at the Bridewell that night; but on the following morning he was carried back to the scene of his diabolical crime by coach, in custody of five constables. On his way he exhibited the utmost levity, and frequently laughed at the people who came out of their houses to catch a glimpse of him as he passed by. He ate and drank heartily, and requested, at almost every stoppage, to be supplied with brandy-and-water and cigars—a demand which was complied with. The coach did not arrive at Leicester until near ten o’clock; but the streets were, even at that hour, crowded with persons looking for his coming. He was safely lodged in jail, without any disturbance taking place.
From the moment of his apprehension he made no attempt to deny that Mr. Paas had fallen by his hands; but he sought to palliate his offence by asserting that that gentleman had attacked him first with one of the implements of his trade, in consequence of his refusal to pay him a bill which he owed him. He declared that he paid him the twelve shillings on his first visit, and denied most positively that he had any previous intention to commit the murder.
At a meeting of the borough magistrates of Leicester, at the town-jail, on Thursday afternoon, Cook was brought before them for the purpose of affording him an opportunity of making any disclosure or explanation he might see fit.
Mr. Burbidge, the town-clerk, addressed him, and said that he was not bound to say anything to criminate himself.
The prisoner, after a short pause, replied in substance and words nearly as follows:—“I am innocent of wilful murder, and my conscience is not burdened in the manner that you gentlemen seem to suppose. Mr. Paas called on me in the morning, but what morning I cannot exactly say, my agitation of mind has been so great ever since. I paid him a bill of twelve shillings. There were two bills due. The other was for a larger sum. Mr. Paas wrote “Settled” on the twelve-shillings bill, and I told him I would strive to pay part of the other if he called again in the evening. Mr. Paas did call in the evening, but I was not able to give him anything. He was angry, and I was angry; disagreeable words took place, and a scuffle ensued, and in this manner I was brought to this shameful and disgraceful end.”
Mr. Burbidge said they had reason to suppose that the upper part of the body had been moved from the premises, and probably buried, and they understood he had admitted as much to one of the constables. The prisoner, after hesitating a short time, said he would consider of it. In addition to the above, the prisoner had previously told the constables that, during the scuffle, Mr. Paas had thrown the great hammer at his head, and that it struck his shoulder, and that in the heat of the moment he snatched up the press-pin (a strong iron bar), and hit him with it on the back of the neck, and he fell dead instantly.
On Friday morning the prisoner was visited in his cell by Mr. Burbidge, accompanied by the governor of the jail and his son. He was found reading and extracting from one of the many religious books with which he had been supplied. Mr. Burbidge asked him whether he was willing to tell what he had done with the trunk of the body. The prisoner replied, “I know I shall suffer, and as there is a just God, I burnt the whole of it; but how I did it, I can hardly tell.”
Mr. Burbidge asked when he burned it? He replied, “In the course of Wednesday night.” Mr. Burbidge then asked how he did it; and he said that he cut it up into fragments, and so placed them on the fire. Mr. Burbidge told him that he had been informed by surgeons that it would be impossible for him to destroy the lungs by any ordinary fire. The prisoner, in a composed but melancholy tone, replied, “Ah, sir, they never tried the experiment.” Mr. Burbidge next observed, that he was given to understand that it was impossible to destroy the intestines by fire, without their causing a stench that would be smelt all round the neighbourhood. The prisoner, in answer, said, “I know nothing about that, sir; it was a very stormy night, and a great deal of rain fell—perhaps that may account for it.” Mr. Burbidge asked, if his story were true, how he could explain the circumstance of no remains of the bones of the skull or trunk being found? The prisoner replied, that they were all burned so that he could crush them with his foot easily. He added, placing the fingers of his right hand upon the palm of his left, “I could mash them thus.”
Mr. Burbidge asked how he could think of such a horrible mode of disposing of the body? The prisoner answered, “What was I to do with it, sir? the dreadful deed had been committed: I must get rid of it some way, and I had no other mode of disposing of it.” Mr. Burbidge observed to him, that if he had cut up the body as he had stated, a great flow of blood must have taken place, and yet there were very few marks of blood on the floor: how did he account for that? In answer, the prisoner said he had first strewn the floor thickly with hay and straw, which he afterwards collected and burned.
This gives the substance of the various statements made by the prisoner, although he was repeatedly questioned upon the subject of the murder; and, on the 9th of June, he was committed to take his trial.
The remains of Mr. Paas having been conveyed to his late residence in Holborn, they were, on the 11th of June, carried to their last resting-place, followed by a host of mourning friends.
During the subsequent imprisonment of Cook in Leicester jail, preparatory to his trial, every means was adopted in order to procure from him some further confirmation or contradiction of the statement which he had made with respect to the disposal of the head and body of Mr. Paas, the recovery of which, if they had not been really destroyed, would naturally have afforded considerable satisfaction to the friends of the deceased. All the efforts which were used, however, failed; and the prisoner contented himself with persisting in the truth of the story which he had already told. He answered all inquiries with the greatest composure, and appeared fully aware that his fate in this world was sealed. With regard to the money which he had taken from Mr. Paas, he asserted that it amounted only to between 50l. and 60l., 30l. of which was in notes, while the remainder of the amount was in sovereigns.
On Wednesday, August the 7th, the prisoner was put upon his trial at the Leicester assizes, charged with the wilful murder of his victim. The indictment alleged the murder to have been committed in various ways, in order to meet all the circumstances of the case.
The prisoner, on being called upon to plead, confessed himself guilty of the offence imputed to him. He declared that he was fully acquainted with the effect of his plea, and declined to withdraw it.
Sentence of death was then immediately pronounced by the presiding judge; and in order that the heinous nature of the crime of the prisoner should be more especially marked, he ordered that his body should be gibbeted in chains after his execution.
On the following Friday, 10th of August, the first part of the sentence was carried into effect, the convict being hanged in front of the jail at Leicester. His demeanour subsequent to his trial was in nowise altered, but partook of the same degree of calmness for which it had been previously remarkable. At his execution he was respectably attired in a black coat and waistcoat, and white duck trowsers. He betrayed but slight symptoms of emotion, and met his fate with becoming resignation.
Previously to his execution he made a confession of the circumstances of the murder more in detail than those which he had previously delivered. He said that he had had the murder in contemplation for a week before its commission; and that the visit of Mr. Paas to his workshop on the fatal 30th of May, was deemed by him to present a favourable opportunity for completing his sanguinary design. When Mr. Paas entered his shop on the evening of that day, he shut the door, and he then paid him the amount of a small bill in which he was indebted to him. Mr. Paas had receipted the bill, and, having risen from his seat at the table, was examining the binding of a book which lay on the press, when he conceived that the favourable moment had arrived. Taking up the press-pin (a heavy iron instrument), he walked behind his victim, and struck him a tremendous blow on the back of his head. The unfortunate gentleman raised his hands to his head, and staggering towards the door, cried out, “Murder” as loud as his voice, enfeebled by the attack which had been made on him, would allow; but his assailant, now terror-struck, followed up the blow which he had already dealt with others of equal severity on the top of his head. The third stroke was sufficient; and the unfortunate victim of his crime fell heavily to the ground. Turning on his back, his arms were convulsed for a few moments, when they ceased to move, and “all was over.” His murderer now retired from the room, and locked the door, but returned again at night to dispose of the body. On his entering the workshop he stumbled over his victim, and his nerves were dreadfully shaken by this circumstance, but speedily getting rid of his alarm, he commenced the work of cutting up the body, and recovered his usual firmness; and so completely was he restored, that he declared that he could have continued the horrible occupation in which he was engaged for a much longer time than he did, if he had deemed it necessary to do so. He then declared, as a dying man, that he had consumed by fire every particle of the body and clothes of the deceased gentleman, except those parts which had been found; and he stated that pride had driven him to commit the crime, and that he was desirous of procuring money, in order to embark for America. He alluded, with seeming horror, to a connexion which he had formed with a society of young men, who professed Deism, in Leicester, and at whose meetings the works of Tom Paine, Carlile, and others, were read; and emphatically added, “Until I got connected with these persons, attending as I did some place of religious worship three times every Sunday, I considered myself a moral young man; but my heart was changed by their example.”
When the body of the convict had hung the usual time after his execution, it was cut down and conveyed back to the jail, in order that the necessary preparations might be made to carry out that portion of the sentence which directed his remains to be gibbeted in chains. The head was shaved and tarred, to preserve it from the action of the weather; and the cap in which he had suffered, was drawn over his face. On Saturday afternoon his body, attired as at the time of his execution, having been firmly fixed in the irons necessary to keep the limbs together, was carried to the place of its intended suspension in Saffron-lane, not far from the Aylestone Toll-gate, a short distance out of the town of Leicester. A gallows, thirty-three feet in height, had been already erected; and the horrible burden which it was intended to bear was soon attached to it. On the following day, thousands of persons were attracted to the spot, to view this novel but most barbarous exhibition; and considerable annoyance was felt by persons residing in the neighbourhood of the dreadful scene. Representations were, in consequence, made to the authorities, and on the following Tuesday morning, instructions were received from the Home Office, directing the removal of the gibbet, and granting the remission of that portion of the sentence, by which this exposure, the remnant only of a barbarous age, was required. These orders were immediately obeyed; and the body was subsequently buried in Leicester.
WILLIAM JOBLING.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
AT the Durham assizes, on Wednesday the 1st of August 1832, William Jobling was tried on an indictment charging him with the wilful murder of Mr. Fairles, a magistrate, on the previous 11th of June. Mr. Fairles, it appeared, had given offence to the colliers, from his spirited exertions to suppress their riotous proceedings. On the day in question he was returning from the Jarrow Colliery on his pony, when he was overtaken by the prisoner and a man named Armstrong, who, having first asked him for money, dragged him from his horse and beat him unmercifully with a bludgeon, and also pelted him with stones as he lay on the ground. Mr. Fairles was found in a state of insensibility, and, on his recovery, swore distinctly to the prisoner and Armstrong, as the persons by whom he had been attacked. He subsequently died of his wounds. The prisoner was secured at Shields; Armstrong escaped; the prisoner was found “Guilty,” and received sentence to die on Friday—his body to be hung in chains.
Jobling and Armstrong attacking Mr. Fairles.
P. 354
This sentence was carried out to its full extent, the body of the criminal being suspended to a gibbet in the neighbourhood of the scene of the murder.
This exhibition, however, gave great offence to the colliers; and after the remains of the unhappy wretch had been exposed for several weeks, they were, on Saturday the 8th of September, suddenly missed, having been removed during the previous night. The deceased had been a collier; and little doubt was entertained that his late companions and fellow-workmen had done this service to his memory: all subsequent efforts to discover the place of concealment of his body proved unavailing. But although undoubtedly its unauthorised removal was a serious breach of the law, there were few to be found who looked upon it as matter for regret, or who did not view the circumstance as a convincing proof of the impolicy of reviving a practice so barbarous as the exposure of the bodies of executed criminals.
The law by which this exposure was authorised was enacted by the statute 2 and 3 W. 4, c. 75, s. 16. That act provides, “Whereas an act was passed in the 9th year of the reign of his late majesty (9 Geo. 4, c. 31), for consolidating and amending the statutes in England relating to offences against the person, by which latter act it is enacted, that the body of every person convicted of murder shall, after execution, either be dissected or hung in chains, as to the court who tried the offender shall seem meet, and that the sentence to be pronounced by the court shall express that the body of the offender shall be dissected or hung in chains, whichsoever of the two the court shall order; Be it enacted, that so much of the said last recited act as authorises the court, if it shall see fit, to direct that the body of a person convicted shall, after execution, be dissected, be and the same is hereby repealed; and that, in every case of the conviction of any person for murder, the court before which such prisoner shall have been tried shall direct such prisoner either to be hung in chains or to be buried within the precincts of the prison in which such prisoner shall have been confined after conviction, as to such court shall seem meet; and that the sentence to be pronounced by the court shall express, that the body of such prisoner shall be hung in chains, or buried within the precincts of the prison, whichsoever of the two the court shall order.”
The legislature appears to have duly estimated the extent of the disgust created by the two exhibitions which have been referred to of the remains of Cook and Jobling; and, by the 4 and 5 W. 4, c. 26, s. 1, the provisions of the statute last mentioned are repealed, so far as they relate to the hanging of criminals in chains. That act enacts (after reciting the provisions of the statutes of 9 Geo. 4, and 2 and 3 W. 4), “That so much of the said recited act, made and passed in the ninth year of the reign of Geo. 4, as authorised the court to direct that the body of a prisoner convicted of murder should, after execution, be hung in chains, and also so much of the said recited act, made and passed in the second and third year of the reign of W. 4 as provided, that in every case of the conviction of any prisoner for murder, the court should direct such prisoner to be hung in chains, should be and the same is hereby repealed.”