The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Chronicles of Crime; vol. II, by Camden Pelham, Esq.

Other evidence, by which the stockings were proved to have belonged to the prisoner by his washerwoman, and by which the brown paper in which the parcel was wrapped was proved to have been sent to Lord William Russell, around a framed print of the “Vision of Ezekiel,” from the shop of Mr. Molteno, a printseller in Pall Mall, was then produced, and the trial was again adjourned to Saturday.

On that morning, Mr. C. Phillips addressed the jury at very great length on the part of the prisoner, contending with great talent, that the evidence was that of suspicion only; but Chief Justice Tindal having summed up, a verdict of “Guilty” was returned.

The learned judge then proceeded to pass upon the prisoner the sentence of death. He said, that he had been found guilty by an intelligent, patient, and impartial jury of the crime of wilful murder. His guilt had been established beyond the possibility of doubt. The circumstances which surrounded the case were not of an ordinary description. It was ordered by the holiness of God that this crime should not go unpunished; and his power was exemplified in no common manner in the course and progress of the investigation. It was ordained that that which was hid in darkness should be brought to light, and that an offence of the greatest magnitude and the most hateful in the sight of God should not remain concealed. He (the prisoner) had felt no compunction at his conduct; he entertained no regard for the sacred duties which bound a servant to his master; but under his own roof he had committed upon him, aged and unprotected as he was, the awful crime of murder. By this horrid act, domestic and social society received a shock; and in order to prevent the perpetration of such offences by others, it was necessary that the law in this instance should take its course. He could hold out no hope to him in this world, and he earnestly entreated him to prepare to undergo the last sentence of the law. It was necessary that he should receive that punishment, in order that others should take warning, and abstain from a breach of the law. What had inclined him to commit the horrid act did not appear. The love of lucre first induced him to break the law, and that might have led to the commission of this offence. The learned judge again earnestly entreated him to make the best use of his time, and endeavour to make his peace with the Almighty; and his lordship then passed the ordinary sentence of death upon the convict.

Throughout the whole of the three days occupied by this trial, the court was crowded to excess with persons who most anxiously watched every change of evidence affecting the prisoner. Courvoisier during the first day appeared confident, and surveyed the court with much apparent courage and coolness; but upon the following morning, his altered position was clearly exhibited by the anxious expression of his countenance, and the melancholy hopelessness by which his whole conduct seemed to be characterised. On the last day his demeanour even more plainly exhibited how little he expected to escape from the punishment due to his crime; and he received the last sentence pronounced upon him by the learned judge with little apparent feeling.

Upon his being conveyed from the court to the interior of the jail, he made no hesitation in at once admitting to the governor, Mr. Cope, that he had been justly convicted; and he expressed his greatest anxiety, that the female servants should be relieved from all suspicion. He subsequently became sullen and reserved, and seizing an opportunity when the jailer had quitted him for a few moments, he endeavoured to choke himself by cramming a towel down his throat. This attempt was, however, frustrated by the vigilance of the turnkey; and he became more communicative after he had received spiritual consolation from Mr. Carver, the ordinary of the jail, and from M. Baup, the minister of the French church in Threadneedle-street.

On the following day, the wretched man made the annexed confession, in the presence of Mr. Flower, his attorney, and Mr. Cope.

“Newgate, June 22, 1840.

“On the Friday before the murder was committed I began two or three times not to like my place. I did not know what to do; I thought if I gave warning none of my friends would take notice of me again, and I thought by making it appear a kind of robbery he would discharge me; and on the Saturday before I took this plate to Leicester-place. I had a mind to rob the house on Monday, and after I had forced the door down stairs I thought it was not right and went to bed—nothing further happened on the Monday. On Tuesday night, when his lordship went to bed (he had been rather cross with me before about the carriage) he gave me two letters, one for the post, and told me rather angrily, that he was obliged to write those letters in consequence of my forgetting the carriage; this was in the drawing-room, about eleven o’clock at night. I then went down stairs into the kitchen, and stood reading a book for some time. About twelve o’clock he rang the bell. I went up to him and took the lamp out. After that I thought he had gone up stairs to his bedroom; and when he rung his bedroom bell, I thought it was to warm his bed, and I took the warming-pan up with coals in just as usual, and he began to grumble because I did not go up to see what he wanted, instead of taking up the warming-pan. I told him he always used to ring the bell for the warming-pan, and that it was for that purpose he had rung; and he said that I ought always to go and answer the bell first, to see what he wanted. He took off his clothes, and I came down stairs again with the warming-pan, and I waited there until about twenty minutes past twelve. He rang again for me to warm his bed. He told me, rather crossly, that I should take more notice of what I was doing, and what he was telling me, and pay him more attention.

“I did not answer at all, as I was very cross. I went down stairs, and put everything in the state it was found in the morning. As I was in the dining-room with a light, he came down stairs to the water-closet: he had his wax-light. I was in the dining-room, but as he had his slippers on, I did not hear him come down. He opened the dining-room door, and saw me. I could not escape his sight. He was quite struck, and said, ‘What are you doing here?—you have no good intentions in doing this; you must quit my service to-morrow morning; and I shall acquaint your friends with it.’ I made no answer. He went to the water-closet, and I went out of the dining-room down stairs. He was about ten minutes in the water-closet, and I waited to see what he would do after he came out. While he was in the water-closet I put some of the things to rights again in the dining-room. When he left the water-closet, he went into the dining-room, where he staid about a minute or two. I was on the corner of the stairs that goes from the dining-room to the kitchen. I watched him up stairs. I stopped perhaps an hour in the kitchen, not knowing what I should do. As I was coming up stairs from the kitchen, I thought it was all up with me, my character was gone, and I thought it was the only way I could cover my faults by murdering him. This was the first moment of any idea of the sort entering into my head. I went into the dining-room and took a knife from the side-board. I do not remember whether it was a carving-knife or not. I then went up stairs. I opened his bed-room door and heard him snoring in his sleep; there was a rushlight in his room burning at this time. I went near the bed by the side of the window, and then I murdered him; he just moved his arm a little; he never spoke a word. I took a towel which was on the back of the chair, and wiped my hand and the knife; after that I took his key and opened the Russia leather box, and put it in the state it was found in the morning, and I took all the things that were found down stairs— the towel I put over his face; I took a purse, I also took a 10l. note from a note case, which I put in the purse, and put them in a basket in the back scullery; the day after I thought it would be better to put it behind the skirting board. I had, before I went to Richmond, lost a shilling behind the skirting board, so I thought that would be a good place to put it.

“While at Richmond Lord William’s locket dropped from his coat while I was brushing it. I picked it up, and put it in my trowsers pocket, but had not the least idea of taking it. I intended to have returned it to his lordship, while I dressed him in the morning. I put my hand in my pocket at that time, but found I had changed my trowsers; this was on the morning we left Richmond for Camden-hill. I did not put the trowsers on again while we were at Camden-hill. I did not recollect the trousers being different, and thought I had lost the locket. I then thought it best to say nothing about it. On the Friday morning I was looking at some of my old clothes, the policeman who had cut his chin was watching me, and in taking the trousers out of the drawer in the pantry the locket fell out of the pocket; it was wrapped up in a piece of brown paper; the policeman opened the paper and looked at it, and said, ‘What’s that?’ I said to him it was a locket; but in the position in which I was, I did not like to say that it was Lord William’s locket, as if I told the truth I should not be believed; the policeman then returned it to me, and I put it in my trousers pocket. The watch and seal were in my jacket pocket, which I had on until the Friday morning; and then I undid the ribbon, and took the seal off; it was the day the sweeps were in the house, which was either the Thursday or Friday; having the watch in my pocket the glass came out; I did not know what to do with it, as the police were watching me, so I took the watch from my pocket, and put it in between the lining of my jacket, and twisted the pocket until I smashed the glass; after that I dropped some of the pieces about the dining-room; and, at different times, put the large pieces in my mouth, and afterwards, having broken them with my teeth, spat them in the fire-place. The watch I had by me until Friday morning. I then burnt the ribbon, and put the watch under the lead in the sink. I kept the seal in my pocket until they came into the dining-room to show me the ring they had found behind the skirting board. When I was called to go down to the pantry, I let the seal fall and put my foot upon it, and afterwards put it behind the water-pipe in the scullery. Beresford and Cronin, and two masons, were there at the time taking the drain up, but did not see me do it. The watch, the seal, and the locket, together with two sovereigns, I had about me until the Friday, and if they had searched me they must have found them; but they did not do so until Friday, after I was taken into custody in my bed-room. The two sovereigns I afterwards (on the Friday, when I slipped the locket under the hearth stone) also slipped down near the wall under the flooring. I had scarcely had any beer all the week, and the ale that I had drunk that night, together with the wine, and some more I took after the cook went to bed, affected me. I turned up my coat and shirt sleeve of my right hand when I committed the murder. I did not use the pillow at all.

“After I had committed the murder I undressed and went to bed as usual. I made the marks on the door on the outside, none of them from the inside, for the purpose of having it believed that thieves had broken in. I never made use of the chisel or the fire-irons. I placed the things about the house to give the appearance of robbery. It is not true that the bottom bolt was never used to secure the door; it was bolted that night. I took the jewellery after I had committed the deed. All the marks on the door were made from the outside on the Monday night, for I got out of the pantry window and broke in at the door, and while getting out of the pantry window made a little mark on the wall outside, near the water-pipe, which the witness Young saw, and mentioned in his evidence. I went to bed about two o’clock. I burned nothing. Sarah Mancer knew nothing about it. Neither did the cook, or any of the other servants. I am the only person who is at all guilty.

“François Benjamin Courvoisier.

“Witness, Thomas Flowe.

“William Wadham Cope. “22nd June, 1840.”

On the 23rd of the same month, however, he made a short confession, in which he contradicted the statement of the master having threatened to discharge him, and which was in the following terms:—

“After I had warmed his lordship’s bed, I went down stairs and waited about an hour, during which time I placed the different articles as they were found by the police. I afterwards went to the dining-room, and took one of the knives from the side-board. I then entered the bed-room, and found him asleep. I went to the side of the bed, and drew the knife across his throat. He appeared to die instantly.”

“Prison of Newgate, June 23.

“This declaration was made before me this 23rd of June, 1840.

“William Evans. Sheriff.”

His subsequent admissions tend very materially to show that a considerable portion of his confession, even as amended, was untrue, and the frequent alterations which he made in his statements, leave room for much doubt as to many of the circumstances related by him.

On the 3rd of July he added another document to those which he had already written. It was headed thus:—“François Benjamin Courvoisier gives some account of the short duration of his life, which is to terminate on the 6th day of July, 1840.” It was written in French; and the following is a faithful translation from the original:—

“I was born of very pious parents, who have neglected nothing on their part for my education and religious instruction, on the contrary, they have done all in their power; and if I am not so well informed as I should be, it is my own fault. It has been my evil habit to have always had a falsehood in my mouth ready to excuse what I did wrong, or what I omitted to do. I fancied that it was more disgraceful to have a bad memory than to be a liar. At the age of twelve, when I was very religious, I loved God and my parents, I was kind to my sisters, and took pleasure in doing what was good and right before God; but unhappily the schoolmaster did not remain in my village, and his successor was not so religiously disposed. I soon forgot all the good I had been taught, and again became such as I was before. It is true that I was not immoral, but I had no longer those holy inclinations in my heart. I confirmed my baptismal vow at the age of sixteen, and afterwards received for the first time the Holy Communion. I now began to be righteous in the sight of men only, and I thought that this was the highest duty of a Christian, and that if I gave satisfaction to men I did so to God also. My parents had a peculiar affection for me, and placed much confidence in my good conduct; they thought that I was the one in their family who was most anxious to reward the pains they had taken in my youth. I fancied that I loved my parents as myself; but if I had indeed so loved them, I should not have acted as I have done. It is true that I considered myself a good Christian. I cannot say that I often thought of God, for then I should not have sinned as I have done; all who knew me believed that I acted uprightly, and I thought so too. I had already acted unjustly towards Mrs. Fector, at the time of leaving her. I know that I should not have dared to act thus a year before. This proves that I had already begun to forget God, and that Satan had already some power over me. After I left Mrs. Fector, and went to my last unfortunate place, I felt confident in my own strength, and began to say within myself, ‘Next year I will do such and such things,’ but never did I say, ‘If it pleases God.’ During the first part of the time I was with Lord William Russell, I was tolerably comfortable until we went to Richmond, when Lord William always appearing dissatisfied, especially towards the latter part of the time, I fancied that I should not be able to remain with him, and having heard the other servants speak of different scenes (towns, villages, country-houses), I began to desire an employment which would enable me to travel through England. I afterwards formed an idea that I should be able to travel on foot from city to city for six months. I then intended to endeavour to procure a place or return to Switzerland. I thought I should be able to make my friends believe that I was in place during these six months. This was the beginning of my misfortunes, for I soon commenced to harbour still worse designs. I thought that I could go to a town, take a lodging, and after remaining five or six days I would depart without payment. I thought that 10l. or 12l. would suffice for this excursion, and began to seek an opportunity for departure. But this was not enough. I began to premeditate the seizure of what this venerable victim had with him in gold, bank notes, and his watch; but this did not satisfy me. Satan, who knew that he had my heart in his power, began to persuade me that it was not enough only to rob my master, and that if suspicion rested upon me the world would be ready to believe it: and as during the time I was at Camden Hill I read a book containing the history of thieves and murderers, being under the dominion of Satan I read it with pleasure, I did not think that it would be a great sin to place myself among them. On the contrary, I admired their skill and their valour. I was particularly struck with the history of a young man who was born of very respectable parents, and who had spent his property in gaming and debauchery, and afterwards went from place to place stealing all he could. I admired his cunning, instead of feeling horrified at it; and now I reap but too well the fruit of those papers and books which I had too long suffered to supplant devotional works; and this book—yes, this book—was read by me with more attention than the holy Bible. Why so? Because my heart was under the dominion of Satan, and I had forgotten for more than a month to pray to God, or to read his word, and perhaps I had not prayed to this Divine Saviour sincerely and from the bottom of my heart for twelve months. ‘Thou honourest me with thy lips while thy heart is far from me, wherefore thou honourest me in vain, and thy words condemn thee instead of justifying thee.’ But all I have just said did not satisfy the wicked desires of my heart. I have not been contented with robbing my master, having satisfied the devil, whose slave I was. My master thought me the guardian and the protector of his property. Oh, what a Judas I have been!—of what sins have I not been guilty? If I ask myself what commandment have I transgressed? my conscience tells me, all. Alas, I know well that I have taken Satan as my God; this is contrary to the 1st commandment. 2nd.—I have adored the riches and the pleasures of this world, and I have loved them more than God. 3d.—I have often taken the name of the Lord in vain. 4th.—I have made the day of the Lord my day of pleasure and amusement. 5th.—I have disobeyed my parents. 6th.—I have murdered. 7th.—I have been in company with notorious debauchees. 8th.—I have robbed. 9th.—I have spoken ill of my neighbour. 10th.—I have desired the wealth of others. God says, however, that he who transgresses only one of his commands shall be excluded from the kingdom of heaven. He says that neither hypocrites, nor liars, nor thieves, nor murderers, shall enter the kingdom of God. I am, however, guilty of all these; and the good actions that I have done during my short life will not weigh as much in the balance of the justice of God as the wicked thoughts of my heart. If the transgression of a single commandment causes me to be condemned to death by the hand of man, what do I deserve at the hand of God after having disobeyed all the law, which is the commandment of God? What punishment do I now deserve? If, when I enjoyed a good character in the eyes of men, I was an abomination in the sight of God, what am I now before the Eternal? If I am the greatest of sinners in the eyes of my fellow-creatures, how shall I appear in the eyes of Him who knows all my actions, my words, and my thoughts? Condemnation and eternal sufferings are the portion I deserve.”

During the time which intervened between the conviction and the execution of the wretched prisoner, he was once or twice visited by his uncle, a respectable servant in the service of Sir George Beaumont, to whom he made a statement, the substance of which was afterwards reduced to writing, and will be found to be subjoined. His general demeanour was befitting his awful situation, and he received with much attention the pious exhortations of the clergymen, by whom he was attended.

On Saturday the 4th of July, two days before his execution, he addressed his final confession to Mr. Carver and M. Baup. It explains several circumstances upon which the public had hitherto been left in the dark.

“Newgate Prison, July 4th.

“After all the false statements which have been published in the newspapers, I feel constrained to tell you again all things as I related them to you when my uncle was here. If there are any contradictions, it is because I did not rightly understand the persons who questioned me, or because my answers were not well understood. It is true that I have not told the truth to Mr. Flower, but I have stated the reason why I did not. The public think now I am a liar, and they will not believe me when I say the truth; therefore I pray you will correct all misunderstanding on the subject, and I think it is good that I should relate again all that has passed, and how it passed. The evil dispositions of my heart began by a strong dislike (hatred) of my situation, and by the wish for another situation. My next idea was that I could live at the expense of others. Then I thought that if I were to rob my master of 30l. or 40l. it would be so much gained, and I had afterwards the idea that by killing my master the robbery would be better concealed, and that I should have done with him all at once, and be ready for my journey. I took the plate out of the house on Saturday or Sunday evening. I was waiting for a favourable opportunity of accomplishing my design.

“Monday evening the 4th of May, I had an evil thought of putting my hand to the work, but, after I had forced the door, a remnant of conscience told me that I was doing wrong. I stopped about ten minutes without knowing what to do. I vanquished the temptation of the devil, and went to bed, after having put again the door in order. Oh, if I had but determined so, on Tuesday night, how happy I should be! I ought at least to have prayed to God, and thanked him for having preserved me during that temptation, but I went to bed like a dog, without thinking even that God had seen me. Tuesday evening, the 5th of May, I had some altercation with my master, but it was not worth the while to speak of it. When he was in bed I went down in the kitchen, where I remained about an hour and a half. During that time I placed all things in the state in which they were in the morning, in the passage, &c. I went up stairs, and going by the dining-room, I entered into it, and took a knife, I believe it was a great knife. I went up in Lord W. Russell’s bed-room. When I opened the door I heard him asleep, and stopped for a while, thinking of what I was about to do; but the evil disposition of my heart did not allow me to repent. I turned up my coat and shirt-sleeve, and came near to the bed on the side of the window. There I heard a cry of my conscience, telling me, ‘Thou art doing wrong;’ but I hardened myself against this voice, and threw myself on my victim, and murdered him with the knife I was holding in my right hand. I wiped my hand and the knife with a towel, which I placed on the face of Lord William. I then took his keys, and opened the box in which he kept his bank-notes. The double napoleons which I found were more than I expected; I put them in a purse with the rings, &c. I took also the watch, and placed them all together in a basket till the morning. I placed a pair of shirt-buttons, a pair of spectacles, and ten sovereigns under the staircase carpet which goes from the drawing-room to Lord William’s bedroom. I went to bed.

“On Wednesday, when the police had searched a little everywhere, I perceived that they watched me more attentively than the other servants, and that they began to examine very carefully; I crept in the bottom of the scullery and seized the parcel I had put there during the night, and put it in my pocket. As soon as I was in my pantry, I placed the purse where it was found. One of the police came then to me, and told me I must go with him, so that I had no time to conceal the watch. I was kept in the dining-room the whole day, excepting the time my room was searched, and I could not get rid of the watch.

“On Thursday, the 7th of May, when I went to bed, I took what I had placed under the staircase carpet.

“Friday morning, I wrapped the sovereigns in some paper, and concealed them in my stocking. I went down to the pantry. Nobody being there, I placed the watch and the ring where they have been found. The policemen came then in the pantry to shave and wash themselves. I went to the kitchen and burned the watch-ribbon. I did not know what I was to do with the seals and two watch-keys. I could not get rid of them for the present, and was replaced in the dining-room. All the morning I entertained the hope that the things I had hidden would not be discovered. I broke one of the watch-keys in three or four pieces, and then threw them in the fire-place. I broke also the top and the bottom (the two extremities) of the other. After they had found the purse, &c. they brought me down into the pantry, where I staid for some time. One of the inspectors went then into the scullery, in which I entered also, thinking of a place where I could conceal the two seals and the watch-key, the two extremities of which I had broken. The inspectors stooping to look under the sink, I placed the great seal where it was found, and threw the broken key among some old rubbish in the bottom of the scullery. I then came near the door. After that, two inspectors and two masons being there, when I saw them busily engaged I let the small seal fall to the ground, and put my foot upon it in order to bend it. I stooped, as if looking under the boiler, took up the seal with the left hand, and rose up. I leaned my hand against the wall for a time, waiting for the moment when those who watched me should turn their heads, and succeeded in placing the seal behind the pipe where it was found. The inspectors went out thence to the kitchen, excepting one, who remained in the pantry with me for about an hour. During that time I let fall the small locket of Lord William’s, and two sovereigns. They took me then to my room, where I was searched, for the first time. I had two policemen with me. They made me draw my boots, but not my stockings. I went not to bed on Friday night, nor on Saturday. On Sunday night I went to bed for five minutes, but I did not draw off my stockings. They made me rise up, and led me into prison. When I was in Tothill-fields prison they searched me very carefully. I feigned to be very cold and shivering, as a person who has the trembling fever, thinking they would let me keep my stockings on, but they told me to take them off, as I had three stockings, two on the right leg. I first took off the stocking which was alone, and then one of the others. When they were feeling if there was any pin or needle I placed my hand under my heel and concealed the ten sovereigns in a paper, under the thumb of my hand. The following morning they made me take a bath, when I had a good opportunity of hiding them on my person, where they remained till the morning of the day I came to Newgate. I thought that I should perhaps be examined more closely, and that, should that money be found on me, it would be sufficient to condemn me to death; but other evidence was found, and this was not wanted. I placed one behind the post of a bench in the cell of Bow-street, the last time I appeared before the magistrates; three on the top of the door, one on the window, as I believe, and four or five in the pit of the water-closet.

“This is, reverend sir, to the best of my recollection, a faithful account of what has passed since the time I conceived the dreadful idea of robbing and murdering my master to the day I came to Newgate. I wish to express to you my deep gratitude for the spiritual instruction you have given me, and your interest in the salvation of my soul.

“I am, my dear Sir,
“Your humble and thankful servant,
“F. B. Courvoisier.”

On the following day, the condemned sermon was preached by the Rev. Mr. Carver, in terms befitting the occasion on which it was delivered.

The wretched criminal still appeared deeply sensible of his crime, and remained in prayer during the greater part of the day. At about eight o’clock in the evening he retired to rest, but awoke again at twelve, and then he gave directions that he should be called at four o’clock. At that hour he arose and dressed himself, and was occupied until the arrival of Mr. Carver in writing letters in the French language to some of his relatives. The reverend gentleman immediately entered upon prayer with the prisoner, affording him all the spiritual consolation which the situation in which he stood would admit. A few minutes after the arrival of Mr. Carver, M. Baup was introduced to the cell by Mr. Sheriff Wheelton, and this reverend gentleman also joined in prayer with the criminal.

At half-past six o’clock Mr. Newman, the principal turnkey of Newgate, was ordered to take the sacramental bread and wine into the prisoner’s cell; and, in a few minutes afterwards, the holy sacrament was administered to him. The prisoner received it with great fervency of manner. After the conclusion of this religious rite, Calcraft, the executioner, entered the cell, with a black bag containing a rope, with which his arms were to be pinioned. The prisoner clasped his hands together to undergo the operation, and in this position the rope was put round his arms and wrists. The reverend ordinary continued to pray with him for some time, and put several questions to him as to whether he was fully penitent for the crime he had committed, and whether he believed in the atonement of the Saviour; to which he replied in the affirmative, in barely audible whispers, accompanied by an expression of countenance which but too plainly showed the deep anguish of his soul. As he spoke he wrung his hands, and as far as the ropes with which he was bound would allow, raised them upwards. His form was much attenuated, and his eye expressive of the deepest mental suffering.

The scene without the jail afforded a strong contrast to that which was passing in the condemned cell.

The scaffold was raised at a very early hour in the morning; and, by six o’clock, the crowd collected in front, and filling all the adjacent places from which any view of the apparatus of death could be obtained, was immense. The people were pressed together in the compactest mass; and we believe it to be a moderate calculation when we state, that twenty thousand persons at least must have witnessed this memorable execution. So great indeed was the anxiety felt to procure a favourable station, that some hundreds of individuals had taken up their position in front of the Debtors’-door of the Old Bailey as soon as ten o’clock on Sunday night, cheerfully exposing themselves to the inconvenience of standing in the open air during the whole of the night, in order that their curiosity might be fully gratified in the morning. The windows of the neighbouring houses were all occupied by spectators, who in most instances paid a high fee for their places; whilst others, who had less money to spare, but more nerve, ascended to the roofs, and perched themselves in the most precarious situations. Among the crowd there was a considerable sprinkling of females and boys, and the number of men-servants present was remarkable, as evincing the fearful interest taken in the culprit’s fate by the class to which he had belonged. In the long interval between the assembling of the multitude and the hour of execution, a few incidents, such as the futile attempts of some daring individuals to attain an enviable eminence without the ceremony of paying, or the tossing about of a stray hat or bonnet, occasionally excited bursts of merriment; but in general the demeanour of the mob was decent and proper for the solemn occasion which had drawn them together. A numerous body of city police was on the spot in front of the scaffold and dispersed through the crowd, and their conduct and arrangements for the preservation of order were in every respect commendable. At five minutes to eight o’clock the dismal sound of the prison-bell struck upon the ear, and immediately the vast multitude uncovered. This was a moment of intense excitement; it was impossible to behold the mob, with their heads all bared, and their eyes all eagerly directed towards the gallows, without the deepest feeling of awe; and the spectacle thus exhibited was enough in itself to have struck terror to the heart of the miserable felon, whose ignominious fate rendered him the sole gaze of such an immense mass of human beings.

The solemn and dreadful ceremonies in the prison in the mean time had been completed, and the usual procession was formed shortly before eight o’clock. The wretched culprit at this period displayed extraordinary nerve. His step was firm and unwavering; and, while his countenance was pale, and exhibited great dejection, it was calm and unmoved. At two minutes past eight o’clock he ascended the steps of the scaffold, and advanced, without looking round him, to the centre of the platform, followed by the executioner and the Rev. Mr. Carver. On his appearance a few yells of execration escaped from a portion of the crowd; but the general body of the people, great as must have been their abhorrence of his atrocious crime, remained silent spectators of the scene which was passing before their eyes. While the executioner was placing him on the drop, he slightly moved his hands (which were tied in front of him, and strongly clasped one within the other) up and down two or three times; and this was the only visible symptom of any emotion or mental anguish which the wretched man endured. His face was then covered with the cap, and the noose adjusted. During this operation he lifted up his head and raised his hands to his breast, as if in the action of fervent prayer. In a moment the fatal bolt was withdrawn, the drop fell, and in this attitude the murderer perished. He died without any violent struggle. In two minutes after he had fallen, his legs were twice slightly convulsed, but no further motion was observable, excepting that his raised arms, gradually losing their vitality, sank down from their own lifeless weight.

After hanging one hour, the body was cut down and removed to the prison, and it was buried within the precincts of the jail on the same evening at eight o’clock.

He admitted, a short time before his execution, that he had contemplated self-destruction; but the vigilant superintendence under which he was kept ever since he was placed within the walls of Newgate, rendered it impracticable for him to carry his meditated scheme into execution. It is related, that he proposed to take away his life by bleeding himself to death, and the following statement was published with regard to the discovery of his object:—

At half-past ten on Sunday night, Mr. Cope went to Courvoisier’s room, and told him that he must go to bed. Upon receiving this intimation he seemed dissatisfied, and expressed unwillingness to strip. Mr. Cope, however, insisted that he should pull off his clothes, and the turnkeys received directions to take away even his shirt. Mr. Cope then narrowly searched the clothes, and in the coat-pocket he found a strip of cloth folded up carefully. When Courvoisier saw the cloth in the governor’s hand, he acknowledged that he intended to use it as a means of destruction. “In what way?” asked Mr. Cope. “I intended,” said he, “to tie it tight round my arm, and to bleed myself to death in the night.” “But how,” said Mr. Cope, “could you have bled yourself?” “I had made preparation,” said he. “I had been looking about for a pin, but not being able to find one, I sharpened a bit of wood which you light your fires with, and I intended to bleed myself with that.” “Where is that wood?” said Mr. Cope. “That, too,” replied Courvoisier, “you have deprived me of by changing my bed, in which I had deposited it.” He then described to the governor the manner in which he intended to get rid of life; and he declared he could easily have accomplished the object, if he had not been prevented by the caution of the governor. He stated then that he had, while in the water-closet, torn the extra cloth along the seams in the inside of his trousers and fastened it together, for the purpose of using it as a ligature. Mr. Cope examined the mattress, which he had caused to be removed on Sunday night, but no piece of wood was found in it; and it is believed that, in the confusion of removing it, the instrument dropped unperceived and was lost.

The wretched malefactor, at the time of his death, was twenty-three years of age, and was born of decent parents in Switzerland. Having received a moderately good education, he is reported to have come to England to his uncle, who has been before alluded to, through whose instrumentality he obtained several most respectable situations. In his career in the metropolis he does not appear to have been guilty of any conduct likely to draw upon him general attention, and the dreadful crime of which he was guilty seems to have been rather the result of a sudden impulse than of pre-determined malice. The motive which prompted the deed, it is clear from his confession, was that of avarice; and while the human mind cannot sufficiently abhor an act of so atrocious a character, levelled against an aged and infirm man, unable to make any resistance, by his servant, whose duty it was to protect and assist him rather than assail him, one is at a loss to understand how a man of virtuous and sound mind could quit the path of rectitude, and, with such an object, commit so foul a murder.

It is not a little remarkable, that two members of the Bedford family met with sudden deaths before the noble lord whose destruction we have just related, though in neither instance by the hands of an assassin. A former Duke of Bedford, and the Marquis of Tavistock, the father of the deceased nobleman, were both of them killed while hunting.

EDWARD OXFORD.

TRIED FOR HIGH TREASON, IN SHOOTING AT THE QUEEN.

“Central Criminal Court, to wit.—The jurors for our lady the Queen, upon their oath present, that Edward Oxford, late of Westminster, in the county of Middlesex, labourer, being a subject of our lady the Queen, heretofore, to wit on the 10th of June, in the year of our Lord 1840, within the jurisdiction of the said court, as a false traitor to our lady the Queen, maliciously and traitorously, with force and arms, &c., did compass, imagine, and intend to bring and put our said lady the Queen to death. And to fulfil, perfect, and bring to effect his most evil and wicked treason, and treasonable compassing and imagination aforesaid, he the said Edward Oxford, as such false traitor as aforesaid, to wit, on the said 10th day of June, in the year of our Lord, 1840, aforesaid, and within the jurisdiction of the said court, with force and arms, maliciously and traitorously did shoot off and discharge a certain pistol, the same then and there being loaded with gunpowder and a certain bullet, and which pistol he the said Edward Oxford then and there had and held in one of his hands at the person of our said lady the Queen, with intent thereby and therewith maliciously and traitorously to shoot, assassinate, kill, and put to death our said lady the Queen. And further, to fulfil, perfect, and bring to effect his most evil and wicked treason and treasonable compassing and imagination aforesaid, he the said Edward Oxford, as such false traitor as aforesaid, afterwards, to wit, on the said 10th day of June, in the year of our lord 1840, aforesaid, and within the jurisdiction of the said court, with force and arms maliciously and traitorously did shoot off and discharge a certain other pistol, the same then and there being loaded with gunpowder and a certain bullet, and which pistol he the said Edward Oxford then and there had and held in one of his hands, at the person of our said lady the Queen, with intent thereby and therewith maliciously and traitorously to shoot, assassinate, kill, and put to death our said lady the Queen, and thereby then and there traitorously made a direct attempt against the life of our said lady the Queen, against the duty of the allegiance of him the said Edward Oxford, against the form of the statute in that case made and provided, and against the peace of our said lady the Queen, her crown, and dignity.”

To this indictment the prisoner pleaded “Not Guilty,” and upon the application for the postponement of his trial being granted, he appeared considerably disappointed at his being unable to remain any longer in court.

On the day of his trial, he observed the same demeanour, but he occasionally became more serious, and gave evident signs of his being now aware of the danger of his position. The same smile was, however, still observable, and the same eager curiosity and gratification at the crowded state of the court were exhibited by him.

The prosecution was conducted by the Attorney-General, the Solicitor-General, Sir F. Pollock, Mr. Adolphus, Mr. Wightman, and Mr. Gurney; and Mr. Sidney Taylor, and Mr. Bodkin, appeared for the defence.

The court was crowded to excess during the two days occupied by the trial, by persons of distinction.

The Attorney-General opened the case to the jury in the following address: He said “Gentlemen, the prisoner stands charged with the crime of high treason, the greatest crime known to the law, and he stands charged with that offence in its most aggravated form; he is charged with having made a direct attempt on the life of the sovereign. Gentlemen, that crime, according to the law of this country, and, indeed, of all countries in which monarchy is the form of government, must be considered as very heinous. By an act passed in the twenty-fifth year of the reign of King Edward III., by which the law of high treason in this country was defined, it is enacted, that if any one shall imagine and compass the death of the sovereign, and be guilty of an overt act to show the intention of such a crime, he shall be guilty of high treason. The offence is imagining and compassing the death of the sovereign, and that is to be proved by some overt act. It is upon this act, which has constituted the great safety for the liberties of England ever since it passed, that the prisoner is now indicted. The mode of conducting the trial is regulated by an act passed in the 40th year of the reign of King George III., the effect of which is this, that where in a trial for high treason the overt act to be proved shall be a direct attempt on the life of the sovereign, the trial shall be conducted in the same manner as in cases of murder. The object of this act was to give to the life of the sovereign the same protection as is afforded to the meanest subject of the land, because, before this statute, it was necessary, on an indictment for high treason, even where the life of the sovereign was attempted, or where that life had fallen a sacrifice to the wicked attempt, to prove the overt act by the testimony of two witnesses; and there were a number of forms required, which are most salutary and proper when the charge bears a political aspect, where the treason under consideration is allied to a rebellious conspiracy, where the circumstances to be considered may constitute constructive treason, or where the case presents a supposed difficulty in bringing the charge home to the prisoner, but which, when the overt act is an attempt directly at the life of the sovereign, the law, in its wisdom, has not deemed necessary. Gentlemen, the party now accused will have an ample opportunity for his defence; on his own application his trial was postponed, and he is now defended by my two learned friends opposite, of great ability and experience, and my learned friend, Mr. Sidney Taylor, will have an opportunity of addressing you, and of bringing forward all that can be urged in his favour. From the affidavit which was made in support of the application to the learned judge (Lord Chief Justice Tindal), we are informed that two questions will be submitted to your consideration. The first is, whether, supposing the prisoner to be accountable for his actions, he is guilty of the offence laid to his charge; and the second will be whether, at the time he committed the act, he was accountable for his actions. Now, gentlemen, the burden of the first issue is entirely upon the prosecution. The prisoner is still presumed to be innocent, and, unless clear and satisfactory evidence be produced to establish his guilt, it will be your duty to acquit him; but if, upon the evidence which I am instructed to lay before you, you should see no reason to disbelieve the witnesses, I cannot anticipate that any reasonable doubt can arise. The prisoner at the bar is, as you perceive, a young man, about eighteen or nineteen years of age, although you would hardly suppose that he was so old. He was born, as I understand, at Birmingham. He came when very young to London, and was sent to school at Lambeth. He afterwards served in many public-houses, in the capacity of what is called a barman. He first went, as I understand, to superintend the arrangement of the business of the bar at a public-house in Houndsditch, and then at one in High-street, Marylebone. He was next at another public-house, in Oxford-street. It seems that he left that service about the end of April. He then went into lodgings at No. 6, West-place, West-square, Lambeth, and that lodging he made his home till the period when this offence was committed. Gentlemen, it would appear that he had formed and matured a plan to make an attempt on the life of the sovereign. On the 4th of May, in the present year, when he was at his lodgings, he bought a pair of pistols from a person named Hayes, living in Blackfriars-road, for the sum of 2l. He bought at the same time a powder-flask. It will appear by the evidence that he practised shooting in shooting-galleries. He was at a shooting-gallery in Leicester-square, at a gallery in the Strand, and at another at the west end of the town. On Wednesday, the 3rd of June, a week before the day laid in the indictment, he went into the shop of a person named Gray, with whom he had been at school, in Bridge-road, Lambeth, and bought half a hundred copper caps to be used for firing. He asked Gray at the same time where he could buy some bullets, and three-penny worth of gunpowder. He was told where the bullets could be had, and Gray sold him some gunpowder. On the evening of the 9th of June he showed a loaded pistol; and when asked what he meant to do with it, he refused to tell, but said that he had been firing at a target. I now come, gentlemen, to the day in question, the 10th of June. You are probably aware that it is the custom of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, since she has been united with Prince Albert, frequently to take an airing in the afternoon or evening in the Parks without any military escort, and with the simplicity of private life. This custom was well known to all her loyal subjects, and indeed to the whole community. It will appear that on this day, Wednesday, about four o’clock, the prisoner went into the Park. He saw Prince Albert returning from Woolwich, and going to the palace. The prisoner then went to Constitution-hill, and there remained expecting the appearance of the Queen. About six o’clock, the Queen, accompanied by her royal consort, left the palace in a low open carriage, drawn by four horses, and with two outriders, who went before, but with no other attendants. Her Majesty was seated on the left side of the carriage, and Prince Albert on the right. The carriage was driven up Constitution-hill. About one hundred and twenty yards from the Palace—that is, about one-third of the distance between the Palace and the Triumphal Arch there was the prisoner, Edward Oxford, watching their progress. He walked backwards and forwards, with his arms under the lapels of his coat. He was on the right-hand side, near the iron railings which divide Constitution-hill from the Green Park. When he saw the carriage, he turned round towards it; he drew a pistol from his breast, and then, as the carriage went on, discharged it. The providence of God averted the blow from her Majesty. The ball was heard to whiz by on the opposite side. In all probability her Majesty was quite unconscious at that moment that any attempt had been made upon her life. The carriage proceeded. The prisoner then looked back to see if any one was near to perceive him; he drew another pistol from his breast, whether with his right hand or his left is uncertain, and aimed at her Majesty. It would appear that her Majesty saw him fire, because she stooped down. Again the providence of God interfered. The prisoner fired, the ball was heard to whiz on the

other side—her Majesty escaped. The Queen immediately drove on, to allay the alarms which might be caused by news brought to her august parent with respect to an event so momentous. There was a considerable number of persons on the side of the Park between the road and the gardens of Buckingham Palace. Curiosity and loyalty had led many persons to that spot, in the expectation of her Majesty showing herself to her subjects. There was a man named Lowe, whom I shall call as a witness, who immediately rushed across, seized Oxford, and took the pistols from him. That person at first was believed to be the offender by the parties around, who said, ‘You confounded rascal, how dare you shoot at our Queen?’ On which Oxford said, ‘It was I.’ He was immediately taken into custody, and taken to the station-house, where he voluntarily put the question, ‘Is the Queen hurt?’ and on being told the Queen was not hurt, he was asked whether there were not bullets in the pistols, and he admitted at once that there were bullets. When he had been secured, and when it had been ascertained that his lodgings were, as he said, in West-place, West-square, a policeman was immediately despatched to search them. The prisoner occupied a room on the first pair back. The door of the room was open. The policemen found a box which undoubtedly belonged to the prisoner. That box was locked; but I shall show that he had in his pocket a key that fitted it, and that he acknowledged that it was his box, as were also the contents. The box was opened, and in it were found the following articles:—A sword and scabbard, two pistol-bags, some black crape, a powder-flask, three ounces of powder, a bullet-mould, five leaden bullets, and some percussion caps marked, and which had been bought by the prisoner from Gray, his schoolfellow. There was also found a pocket-book containing some papers. The box and its contents were brought to the station-house and shown to the prisoner, who stated that the papers belonged to him and that he meant to have destroyed them in the morning before he went out. These papers I will now read. The first bears no date: it is headed ‘Young England;’ and the rules and regulations are eleven in number. The learned gentleman then read the following paper:—

EDWARD OXFORD. TRIED FOR HIGH TREASON, IN SHOOTING AT THE QUEEN.

EDWARD OXFORD.

TRIED FOR HIGH TREASON, IN SHOOTING AT THE QUEEN.