THEdreadful murder for which this young man was executed, was scarcely less frightful in its nature than that of the unfortunate Maria Marten.
It was on the morning of Sunday, September 28th, 1828, that this deed of blood was discovered, when the murdered remains of a woman named Esther Stevens were found in a house which she occupied in the town of Monmouth. The wretched woman, it appeared, was born on the Kymin, a high mountain near Monmouth, and from her being in the habit of frequenting certain districts of the hill of her birth, she passed by the familiar epithet of “Hall of the Kymin.” At an early age she wasmarried to a man named Stevens, a bargeman, to whom in later years, however, she appears to have exhibited considerable dislike. Stevens’ employment necessarily called him from home for considerable periods, and during these absences, his unhappy wife formed acquaintances with other men, of a criminal nature,—a step to which eventually she owed her murder. Amongst these guilty companions of her adultery was a man named William Davis, living at a village called Christchurch, near Carleon, on the Newport road, to whom she represented herself as a single woman, and to whom also she had promised marriage. A later connexion, however, was formed by her with Barnett, who resided in Monmouth—the miserable subject of this sketch.
Barnett, it appears, was strongly attached to Mrs. Stevens, and looked with the most uncontrollable feelings of jealousy upon her connexion with Davis. Immediately before the murder she had been living with Davis under an assumed name at Carleon, during her husband’s absence, and Barnett discovering her position, quitted his mother’s house, where he resided, in order to endeavour to induce her to return to Monmouth. In this effort he succeeded, and on Friday, 26th September, they quitted Carleon together. Mrs. Stevens, however, passed that night in the great wood on the Kymin, and Barnett was observed to leave her at the skirts of the wood in the morning. He proceeded home again, and on his arrival produced a loaded pistol from his pocket, and these circumstances, coupled with the contents of a letter, sent by the unfortunate woman to Davis, in which she stated that something dreadful was going to happen, led to a supposition that a threat of murder was made by Barnett on that night, in the event of her again joining her paramour at Christchurch. On Saturday afternoon Barnett received a letter from Mrs. Stevens, desiring an interview, and he quitted his home in order to obey the request which she made. At this time he had in his possession a shot-bag containing 30l.in notes, gold, and silver, and was attired in a shooting jacket and laced boots. He did not again return home, and on the following morning the wretched woman was found lying in her house, brutally murdered.
Her husband was at first supposed to have been the author of this revolting act, in revenge upon his discovering her perfidy to him; but upon an attentive examination of the appearances which presented themselves, and a due inquiry into the circumstances which had preceded the murder, his innocence and the guilt of Barnett became evident. At the time of the discovery of the murder, the door of the house was found open, and some persons, led on by curiosity, upon going up stairs, were horror-struck at perceiving the mangled remains of Mrs. Stevens lying on the floor of the bedroom. Upon the constables of the place being informed of the circumstance, they immediately proceeded to investigate the affair. Upon inquiry of a man named Pearce, residing next door, they found that in the course of the night Mrs. Stevens had been heard to go up stairs, as if slip-shod, and directly afterwards they heard screams; but as such events were common, as arising out of frequent quarrels between the deceased and her husband, they took no notice of the occurrence. From further inquiries, however, it was ascertained that Stevens had not slept at home on that night, and from the discovery of Barnett’s shot-bag and money, his shooting coat and boots in the room, it became obvious that he had been apartner in the unhappy woman’s bed, and having murdered her, had fled to avoid his apprehension. From the statement of Pearce, and certain appearances which presented themselves in the house, it was supposed that Mrs. Stevens had risen in the night in order to prepare the lower room for the morning meal, as the kettle was found full on the fire, and the usual utensils were laid ready for use, and it was concluded that Barnett waking just as the wretched woman was returning to the sleeping apartment, was excited by some jealous apprehension of her having quitted his bed to meet some other paramour, and had rushed upon her and murdered her.
The manner in which the fearful deed had been committed, was exhibited by the discovery of a case-knife covered with blood, on the floor, near the body of the deceased; and one tremendous gash across the throat was evidently the cause of death. The deed must have been completed with great rapidity, and the murderer, alarmed by his crime, appeared to have run off only partially dressed, and without even wiping the gore from his hands, as bloody finger-marks were distinctly visible on the stairs. The deceased too was attired only in a portion of her clothes; her cap was found lying under her head, saturated with blood, and her ear-rings, which had fallen from her ears, were picked up close to her in the room. The case-knife, with which the dreadful wound had been inflicted, appeared to have been taken from a drawer of a table which was open, close by the body.
Upon further search being made, it was found that Barnett could nowhere be seen,—a circumstance which tended materially to confirm the suspicions already excited against him. Evidence was also obtained of his having been observed crossing the Wye, without his coat, hat, or boots, and messengers were immediately despatched in every direction in search of him.
The scene in the Jury-room where the inquest was held on the Tuesday night was of the most affecting description. On the table lay the bloody garments of the murdered woman, the instrument of death, and the clothes, money, &c. of the murderer. Thirty-three witnesses were in attendance to enter into sureties to attend and give evidence at the Assizes. Amidst this group might be noticed the husband of the deceased, who deeply felt the peculiarity of his situation. The mother of the supposed murderer attracted universal attention—fast declining in years, called on by the justice of her country to sign her deposition, and to enter into recognizances against her son, her hand appeared to refuse its office, and with the utmost difficulty could she make her mark. And amidst the spectators might also be observed the father of the deceased, whose care-worn face and anxiety of countenance bespoke the inward workings of his mind for a guilty murdered child.
A verdict of wilful murder against Edward Barnett was returned by the coroner’s jury, and on Monday, the 6th of October, he was brought in custody to Monmouth, by Fuller, an officer, by whom he had been apprehended in Liverpool, and to whom he did not scruple to make a general confession of his guilt.
Upon his being conveyed before the magistrates, he appeared to be about twenty-three years of age, stout and well-made, with sandy hair. He had on the trousers and waistcoat which he was supposed to have had with him at the time of committing the murder, a pair of shoes which he was found to have begged at the turnpike at Irenchester, and an old hat not worth a penny. He was still without a coat; his shirt-sleeves, particularlyat the wristbands, very dirty; no neckerchief; his waistcoat of the yellow plush kind, spotted, but no marks of blood were discernible on any part of his dress. He appeared unmoved at the awfulness of his situation, and his eyes were downcast; a slight hectic tinged his cheeks when the inquisition was read over. The coroner informed him of the verdict against him, and his intention of having all the depositions read over in his hearing; and if he had any remark to make, or had a wish to ask any witness a question, they should be sent for, the town clerk cautioning him at the same time most earnestly not to say anything which might tend to criminate himself. He gave a deep sigh on the constable’s producing his clothes, but did not evince the least emotion on the production of the bloody knife. During the reading of the depositions, he stood up in a firm and erect manner, fixing his eyes intensely on the town-clerk, and did not betray any internal feeling; with this exception, that when the husband’s evidence was being read over, there was a slight convulsion of the lower lip, accompanied by a deep-drawn sigh. The evidence being gone through, he was asked by the coroner if he had any remark to make. To this he gave no answer; and on its being repeated by the town-clerk, he faintly answered, “No.” He then sat down with apparent exhaustion, which might have been produced by the heat of a crowded room. His manner throughout was not that of a guilty man, with the exception of his downcast eyes. His cast of features was rather prepossessing, and a low smile was occasionally discovered. His firmness and self-possession were the universal theme of remark.
The warrant for his commitment being made out, a post-chaise was ordered, in which he was conveyed to the jail to await his trial at the assizes.
It was not until the spring assizes of the following year that his trial came on; and then the evidence of his guilt was so conclusive as to leave the jury no alternative as to the verdict which they should return.
Sentence of death was immediately passed upon him, and on Thursday 9th of April, 1829, he underwent the extreme penalty of the law.
During the whole period of his confinement and on his trial he exhibited the utmost firmness and self-possession, and his demeanour was in no way altered upon the morning of his execution. He ascended the gallows with an unhesitating step, and was turned off without exhibiting any sign of remorse, or sense of the dreadful position in which he was placed.
INthe case of these offenders we have to present our readers with a murder, equal in atrocity to that committed by the notorious Brownrigg, whose fate we have already related.
These unnatural women were indicted at the Old Bailey, on the 10th of April, 1829, for the wilful murder of Frances Colpitt, aged ten years, the parish apprentice of the elder Hibner.
Mr. Bolland (with whom was Mr. Alley) stated the case. He observed, that the facts he had to lay before the jury must excite the greatest horror in the minds of those who heard the dreadful narration; but he thanked God that such a case as the present was of unfrequent occurrence in this country. The deceased, who was only ten years of age, was a pauper, and was apprenticed to the prisoner, Esther Hibner, the elder, who resided at Platt Terrace, Pancras Road, by the overseers of St. Martin’s parish, to learn the business of fabricating tambour-work. She was apprenticed on the 7th of April, 1828, and in the month of October following, a system of the most cruel and unnatural treatment was commenced by the prisoners towards the unfortunate deceased and the other children who were placed under their care by St. Martin’s and other parishes. They were not allowed sufficient sustenance, were compelled to rise to begin work at three and four in the morning, and were kept at work till eleven at night, sometimes two in the morning, and sometimes all night. They had scarcely any bed to lie on; and frequently during the most inclement season their resting-place was the flooring, and their only covering was an old rug. The prisoners and their family had good bedding and clothes, and every comfort that they desired. The children were not permitted to go out to obtain necessary air and exercise; and thus the cruel treatment they had experienced had terminated fatally with three of them. The child which was the subject of the present indictment had been reduced to such a deplorable condition that her feet mortified; and this, combined with the bursting of an abscess on the lungs, brought on by the ill-treatment the child had experienced, occasioned her death. The breakfast which was allowed the children, was a slice of bread and a cup of milk; and if they were indulged with this luxury, they had no more food all the day. Sometimes the elder Hibner said the deceased and the other children had not earned their breakfast, and then a few potatoes were given them in the middle of the day, and nothing more afterwards till the following morning. Nine pounds of potatoes were divided amongst the whole family, which consisted of twelve persons; they were allowed meat only once a fortnight; and on Sundays they were locked in the kitchen, the windows of which were closed. It would be proved that the younger prisoner, Hibner, had taken the deceased from the frame, and knocked her down on the floor; she had then taken the deceased up, and knocked her down again. When the elder prisoner was informed that the deceased was lying in the room ill, instead of affording her that protection which she was bound to do, she replied, “Let her lie there.” The deceased, when in that state that she could scarcely crawl about the house, was told by the younger Hibner to clean the stairs; she attempted to do it, but fell exhausted, and was unable to accomplish the task; the younger Hibner then took the deceased up stairs, and flogged her with a cane and a rod, and afterwards sent her down to finish the stairs; when she came down, she was unable, from weakness, to go to the proper place to obey the calls of nature, and wetted the stairs: when Hibner the younger discovered it, she rubbed the child’s nose and face in it, and afterwards plunged her head into a pail of water; the prisoner Robinson, who was standing by, encouraged Hibner to commit this violence, and said, “Curse her! do it again, and that will finish her.” The children often cried for food, and, to satisfy the cravings of nature, had eaten the meat that was brought in for the dog, and also somepieces of meat which they picked out of the wash that was obtained for feeding the pig. It would be proved also, that all the prisoners had beaten the deceased; sometimes with a cane, sometimes with a rod, and sometimes with a shoe. The medical gentlemen who attended the deceased before death, and examined her body afterwards, would prove that they found large sores on the feet of the deceased, and her toes were mortifying and falling off. After death they examined the body, and found it in the most dreadful state, produced by the ill-treatment she had experienced from the prisoners, and from the want of proper food and nourishment. The case demanded the most serious attention of the Jury; and he felt satisfied that they would give the circumstances the most serious consideration before they arrived at their decision.
Evidence of the apprenticeship by the parish-officers, and of the dreadful state in which the deceased was found, was then given, and followed up by the testimony of three of the apprentices, who fully confirmed the narrative given by Mr. Bolland.
Charles James Wright, a surgeon, said, he went to visit the deceased at Mrs. Hibner’s house; she had sores on her feet, and her toes were mortifying and dropping off, she died on the 15th of March. After death, he examined the body; he found that the lungs were nearly destroyed with abscess—the viscera were inflamed, and the body was otherwise diseased; there were also several bruises on the outside of the body; the proximate cause of death was the abscess on the lungs, and mortification on the feet. These were produced by the want of food and exercise, and the improper treatment which the child had received. The immersion of the child’s head in cold water would, he considered, greatly accelerate the complaint on the lungs.
Two other medical gentleman, named Gozna and Bellin, gave similar evidence, and concurred in opinion that the treatment the deceased had received had accelerated the complaint on the lungs, and caused death.
This closed the case for the prosecution, and the prisoners were called upon for their defence.
The elder prisoner, Hibner, said she would leave her defence in the hands of her daughter.
The daughter said that the children had sworn falsely. They had been treated with the greatest kindness by her and her mother, since they had been in their house, and there was not the slightest ground for the accusation which had been preferred against them.
Robinson declared that what had been alleged against her was false. She was engaged by the Hibners only to assist them in their business, and went home every night at eight o’clock.
Mr. Baron Garrow then proceeded to sum up the case, and delivered a most feeling and impressive address, in the course of which he entreated the jury, however their feelings might have been excited by the horrible narrative they had heard, to come to a calm and temperate decision on the case. The elder prisoner was the person to whose protecting care this unfortunate child was consigned. She had promised that it should receive from her care and attention, and she was, therefore, bound to protect it from violence. His lordship then read over the evidence to the jury, and observed, that in deciding the case, the jury had to consider, first, whether the general ill-treatment which the child had received from the elderprisoner had caused its death: if that were their opinion, the other two prisoners must be acquitted. If, on the other hand, they believed that the immersion of the child’s head in cold water by the younger Hibner, in the presence of Robinson, had promoted the consumption, and had been the principal cause of the child’s premature death, then they were bound to convict those two women and acquit the elder prisoner.
The jury after some deliberation found the elder Hibner guilty, but acquitted the other women.
The sentence of death was at once passed upon Mrs. Hibner, and she was ordered for execution on the following Monday; while the other women were directed to be detained, to be tried for the assault upon the deceased.
During the trial Mrs. Hibner did not exhibit the slightest feeling of remorse for her crimes, or of fear for the consequences of them; and upon her being arraigned upon a second indictment, which charged her with the diabolical murder of another of her apprentices, she pleaded not guilty with all the firmness of conscious innocence, although as the poor child’s death had been the result of the same dreadful course of treatment adopted towards Colpitt, there could be no doubt of her legal and moral responsibility for the crime, which had hurried the wretched being from the world. As a capital conviction had already been obtained against the prisoner, it was thought unnecessary to obtain the verdict of the jury upon this second indictment; and the horrid wretch was conducted from the court to the condemned cell in the jail. Here her conduct became violent in the extreme. She swore to Mr. Wontner, the governor of the jail, that she would not be hanged, and became perfectly outrageous because she was not allowed to have a mutton-chop for her dinner. On Sunday, she had a last interview with her daughter; but it produced no effect upon her hardened mind, and she parted from her without a tear. She subsequently went into the yard; and it appearing to the turnkey that there was something suspicious in her behaviour, he sent some person after her who found her bleeding from a wound she had inflicted in the front part of her neck with a knife, which, by some means, she had obtained unknown to the attendants. From this time her behaviour was so violent, that it was found absolutely necessary to apply the strait waistcoat to prevent her from tearing the bandages off the wound. She confessed, soon after her attempt at suicide, to Mr. Wontner, that it was not her intention to kill herself, but merely to wound herself severely; thinking, thereby, that she would be allowed to live a few days longer.
When this was ascertained, Mr. Cotton offered his spiritual advice and assistance to the wretched woman; but she refused them and said, “that she knew enough of the Bible herself, and wanted no interpreter.” Mr. Cotton still persevered until a late hour, but all his efforts proved useless. She listened to him with the most imperturbable patience, and never gave expression to either assent or dissent.
A little before eight o’clock on Monday morning, the 13th of April, the wretched malefactor was led from the condemned cell to the press-room. She exhibited a dreadful appearance; her dress, a black gown, over which was a white bed-gown, and the white cap on her head, contributed, together with the sallowness of her complexion, to give her a most unearthly aspect. The sad procession then set forward, the miserable woman being carried bytwo men, as she absolutely refused to walk. On her arrival at the scaffold, she was assailed with a loud volley of yells from the people, particularly from the females, of which the crowd was in a great measure composed.
Up to the last the culprit refused to receive any spiritual consolation, and no clergyman attended her on the scaffold. The executioner proceeded to perform the necessary duties, and a few minutes after eight the unfortunate woman was carried to
“That bourne from whence no traveller returns.”
“That bourne from whence no traveller returns.”
“That bourne from whence no traveller returns.”
She did not make a single struggle, and appeared to die almost instantaneously.
Her body was cut down, after hanging the usual time, and was delivered to the surgeons for dissection.
Upon the same day on which this wretched being expiated her crimes upon the scaffold, her daughter and her assistant Robinson were tried for the minor offence of assaulting the miserable children entrusted to their care as apprentices; and having been found guilty, were sentenced respectively to twelve, and to four months’ imprisonment in the House of Correction.
THEname of this wretched maniac will long be remembered from the circumstance of the object of his offence being that of burning down that venerable monument of antiquity—York Minster; an effort in which, happily, he only partially succeeded.
The fire was discovered in a most remarkable manner. On the evening of Sunday the 1st of February, 1829, one of the choristers, a lad named Swainbank, was passing through the Minster-yard, when, setting his foot on a piece of ice, he was thrown on his back, on the ground. Before he had time to rise, he perceived smoke proceeding from the building before him. He at once gave the alarm, and assistance was immediately procured; but it was not until the choir, with its magnificent organ and its beautiful roof, had been totally destroyed, that the flames could be conquered. At first this national catastrophe was supposed to have been the result of accident; but the discovery of one of the bell-pulls, knotted so as to form a species of ladder, suspended from one of the windows of the building, and of evidence of a light having been seen moving about in the belfry after all the officers of the Minster had retired, on the night of the fire, led to a conclusion that it was the work of an incendiary. This belief was on the following week strengthened by the apprehension of a person named Jonathan Martin, at Leeds, with some portion of the velvet from the reading-desk in his possession. He was examined before the magistrates, and at once confessed that he had set fire to the building in obedience to the will of the Lord communicated to him in two remarkable dreams. He was committed to York Castle for trial, and it turned out that he had been already twice in confinement as a madman, and that he had prophesied the destruction of the Minster.
On Monday, the 30th of March, he took his trial at the York assizesand was found by the jury to have been of unsound mind at the time of his committing the offence charged against him.
The following extracts from his defence at once showed that he was a religious enthusiast:—
When called upon for his defence, he proceeded to say, in a Northern dialect and with great energy—“Well, sir, the first impression that I had about it was from a dream. And after I had written five letters to these clergy, the last of which I believe was a very severe one, and all of which I dated from my lodgings at No. 90, Aldwick, I was very anxious to speak to them by word of mouth; but none of them would come near me. So I prayed to the Lord, and asked him what was to be done. And I dreamed that I saw a cloud come over the cathedral—and it rolled towards me at my lodgings; it awoke me out of my sleep, and I asked the Lord what it meant; and he told me it was to warn these clergymen of England, who were going to plays, and cards, and such like: and the Lord told me he had chosen me to warn them, and reminded me of the prophecies—that there should in the latter days be signs in the heavens. I felt so impressed with it, that I found the Lord had destined me to show those people the way to flee from the wrath to come. Then I bethought me that I could not do that job without being out all night, and I considered whether I should let my wife know. I got everything ready, and I took the ring from my wife’s finger, and talked to her about what I have mentioned—and I told her what I meant to do: she grieved very much, and I had work to get off. I still staid a few days, but I could get no rest whatever until I had accomplished the work. It was a severe contest between flesh and blood—and then I bethought me what would come of her and my son Richard, who I had at Lincoln. Then the Lord said unto me, ‘What thou does, do with all thy might.’ I tore from her and said, ‘Well, well, Lord—Not my will but thine be done.’ I then left Leeds, taking twenty of my books with me; but I had no money, and went into Tadcaster; there I got a gill of ale. [He then proceeded to state the manner in which he travelled and supported himself to York.] On Sunday (February 1st) I went to the cathedral service, and it vexed me to hear them singing their prayers and amens. I knew it did not come from the heart, it was deceiving the people. Then there was the organ, buz! buz! and said I to mysen, I’ll hae thee down to-night, thou shot buz no more! well, they were all going out, and I lay me down by’t side of the Bishop’s round by the pillar. [The prisoner concealed himself behind a tomb, between which and the wall there was a space that more than one person might lie down in.] I thought I heard the people coming down from the bells; they all went out, and then it was so dark that I could not see my hand. Well, I left this Bishop, and came out and fell upon my knees, and asked the Lord what I was to do first; and he said, Get thy way up the bell-loft; I had never been there, and I went round and round; I had a sort of guess of the place from hearing the men as I thought come down; I then struck a light with a flint and a razor that I had got, and some tinder that I had brought from my landlord’s. I saw there were plenty of ropes—then I cut one, and then another; but I had no idea they were so long, and I kept draw, draw, and the rope came up. I dare say I had hundred feet. Well, thought I to myself, this will make a man-rope, a sort of skaling rope, and I tied knots in it. Ay, that’s it, I know it well enough(pointing to the rope which lay upon the table). So I went down to the body of the cathedral, and bethought me how I should get inside. I thought if I did so, by throwing the rope over the organ, I might set itganging, and that would spoil the job. So I made an end of the rope fast, and went hand over-hand over the gates, and got down on the other side, and fell on my knees and prayed to the Lord—and he told me, that do what I would, they would take me. Then I asked the Lord what I was to do with velvet, and he told me, and I thought it would do for my hairy jacket, that I have at Lincoln. I have a very good seal-skin one there. I wish I had it with me, that I might show it you. Then I got all ready. Glory to God, I never felt so happy; but I had a hard night’s work of it, particularly with a hungered belly. Well, I got a bit of wax-candle, and I set fire to one heap, and with the matches I set fire to the other. I then tied up the things that the Lord had given me for my hire, in this very handkerchief that I have in my hand. [The prisoner then went on to describe his escape by means of the rope, nearly in the same terms as have been stated, and of his proceeding to Hexham; that on the road the coaches passed him, but he laid himself down, and was never seen.] While I was at Hexham (I think I had been there two days) I had been to pray with a poor woman, and the Hexham man came and tipped me on the shoulder.” He concluded by saying, “I’s tired, or I’d tell you more.”
The unfortunate man was ordered to be detained during his Majesty’s pleasure, and was afterwards conveyed to a lunatic asylum.
It appeared that this maniac was the brother of the painter, who, for his magnificent productions, has attained so much celebrity. Up to the time of this transaction, he had gained a precarious livelihood by hawking books; having been, however, as we have before stated, once or twice confined in a mad-house.
It is very remarkable that York Minster has repeatedly suffered from fire. Its origin may be dated fromA.D.626. In 741 it was dreadfully damaged by fire, and remained in that state till 767, when it was taken down, rebuilt, and completed, and was consecrated in 780. Thus it stood until 1069, when the Northumbrians, aided by the Danes, having besieged the city of York, the garrison set fire to several houses in the suburbs, which fire unfortunately extended further than they intended, and, amongst other buildings, burnt the Minster to the ground. In 1137, the same fire which burnt St. Mary’s Abbey, St. Leonard’s Hospital, thirty-nine churches in the city, and one in the suburbs, again destroyed the Minster; since which there had not been any damage done to it by fire, excepting two trifling occurrences, which have taken place through the neglect of the workmen, within the last sixty years, up to the time of Martin’s mad attempt. In the present year (1840), it has again suffered severely from an accidental conflagration, which has destroyed nearly the whole of that portion of the ancient building which the former catastrophe had left standing.
THEmurder of which the former of these diabolical criminals was guilty very closely resembles that mention of which will be found in a preceding part of our calendar, of Mr. Bird and his housekeeper, which took place at Greenwich.
Mr. Langtrey, it appears, was a person nearly eighty years of age, and of great bodily infirmity, residing in a small house in Prospect-row, Portsmouth, to which he had retired, after he had amassed a considerable fortune in his business as a brickmaker. His only servant, and the only other inmate of the house, was a woman upwards of sixty years old, named Christian Joliffe, who acted as housekeeper, but who was assisted in procuring such comforts as the old man required, by a Mrs. Dyott, a neighbour, living at an adjoining cottage. Mr. Langtrey was so feeble as to be unable to quit his bed-room, which was situated on the first floor of his house, and he was attended there by Mrs. Joliffe. He was known to have saved a considerable sum of money, and he was reputed in the neighbourhood to keep a very large amount (in notes and gold) in the house. Amongst those who were observed to be particularly inquisitive into his affairs, was a young man named Stacey, about twenty-one years of age, an apprentice to a barber, living close by, who usually shaved Mr. Langtrey,—an office which his infirmity prevented his performing for himself.
On the morning of Monday the 2nd of March, 1829, the vicinity of the dwelling of the unfortunate old man, was thrown into a state of the utmost confusion and alarm, by the propagation of a report that he and his housekeeper had, in the course of the previous evening, been murdered in a most barbarous and cold-blooded manner. Inquiries were instantly set on foot by the authorities of the town, and it proved that the statement was true; the murders having been discovered by Mrs. Dyott, the assistant of Mrs. Joliffe in her attendance upon her master. Mrs. Dyott, it appeared, had repaired to Mr. Langtrey’s house, in accordance with her usual custom, on the previous evening, at a little after six o’clock, to assist Mrs. Joliffe in preparing the old man’s bed; but was unable to procure admittance, although she made a considerable noise at the door. Imagining, however, that the old people were asleep, she took little notice of the circumstance; but upon returning on the following morning, and finding the same silence prevail, and the same inattention to her application for admission, she became alarmed, and called in the aid of a neighbour. It was determined by the latter instantly to force open the back door, and upon his entering the house, he at once perceived the fearful crimes which had been committed. Upon the floor of the lower room lay the body of the aged housekeeper, frightfully mangled, and with the head nearly severed from the trunk; while around her lay the instruments by which some of the injuries had evidently been caused. A slater’s hammer (smeared withblood and brains), which was known to have belonged to Mr. Langtrey, was lying at her feet; and near her were portions of a broken broom-handle, which had been evidently employed in the desperate conflict which must have taken place between the old woman and her assailant. The scull of the deceased was found to have been completely smashed in, in several places; and around her were pools of blood, extending over a space of several feet. In the upper apartment a scene no less frightful presented itself. The old man, whose age nor infirmities could protect him from the assassin’s blow, was found to have been murdered with equal barbarity. His body lay upon the floor, dressed in his usual attire, with his walking-stick by his side; but his scull had been frightfully fractured by repeated blows from the same deadly weapon with which his housekeeper had been assailed, and his blood and brains were scattered over the apartment to a considerable distance.
A further alarm was immediately raised upon this dreadful discovery being made, and the utmost consternation prevailed. Upon a minute examination of the house, it became evident that plunder had been the object of the assassin. The boxes and drawers had been rifled of their contents, which lay strewed about the rooms; and money, deeds, papers, and wearing apparel were scattered in indiscriminate confusion. The murderer had been apparently disturbed in his work of robbery, probably by Mrs. Dyott’s knocking on the previous evening, and had left his work unfinished, but a bag containing 600l.was found to have been stolen.
The aid of the London police was immediately obtained with a view to the more speedy apprehension of the murderer, for it appeared as if one only had been engaged in the diabolical acts; but several days passed before any suspicion of a tangible nature could be said to attach to any one. Stacey, the barber’s apprentice, during the week had pursued his ordinary avocations with his accustomed coolness; and, although the murder had been made the subject of conversation in his presence, had exhibited no agitation or feeling which could indicate that he viewed the circumstance in any but the most ordinary light. On the Friday, however, he complained of a sore hand, and claimed exemption from work; and on the Monday following, he became very free with his money. His wages as an apprentice amounted only to two shillings and sixpence per week; but on this day he was observed to quit Portsmouth in a hired chaise, with two women of the town, on a “lark” as he expressed himself. Some suspicion in consequence attached to him, which was strengthened by the discovery of a knife which corresponded in every particular with one which was known to have belonged to him, at a short distance from the scene of the murder, and in a direct line between that place and his father’s residence, smeared with blood and hair. The instrument with which the throat of the unfortunate Mrs. Joliffe had been cut could nowhere be found in the house; and it was at once concluded that the weapon which had been discovered was that which had been used for that horrid purpose. Upon inquiry, it turned out that young Stacey had been absent from his master’s house on the afternoon of the murder, with a fellow-apprentice named Connamore, the brother-in-law of his master, and had been at his father’s house, in Charlotte-row, during a considerable portion of that evening. It was, in consequence, thought advisable that he should be at once apprehended; and the result proved the propriety of the adoption ofsuch a course. He was discovered by the constables at a house at Porchester, in company with the females who had quitted Portsmouth with him; and immediately on his perceiving that he was pursued, he became agitated, and exclaiming, “I am done!” endeavoured to conceal himself in a barn. He was soon discovered, however, and carried back to Portsmouth, where he was examined before the magistrates. The testimony of young Connamore proved to be most important. From his statement, it appeared that Stacey had told him that old Langtrey had desired him to purchase for him a tract called “The Book of Martyrs;” that Stacey having no money, had requested him to advance the necessary means for this purpose; and that he himself purchased the tract, and handed it over to his companion. On the Sunday, the 1st of March, Stacey and he went from their master’s house to visit the father of the former, taking the tract with them, which Stacey expressed his intention to carry to the old man. They remained together during the greater part of the day, but at about twenty minutes before six in the evening, young Stacey went away, carrying the tract with him. It was nearly eight o’clock before he returned, and then on his knocking at the door, the witness let him in. He passed rapidly by him, and rushed up stairs, at the same time calling to his father that he wanted him. The latter directly followed him, and they remained in close conversation for a considerable time. Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Stacey, who was young Stacey’s step-mother, joined them, and then Connamore heard something as if some clothes were thrown into a tub of water and washed. Immediately after this, old Stacey sent him off to a distant shop to purchase some bread and cheese, and on his return, he found his fellow-apprentice sitting by the fire, without his shirt, which his step-mother was drying by the fire, after it had been apparently washed, and which was subsequently ironed before he put it on. At about half-past nine o’clock, he returned home with young Stacey, and on their way the latter said that he had been fighting, and had got some blood about his clothes. The witness examined his coat, and found that a portion of it was so completely covered with blood as to require a knife to scrape it off. It further appeared that a copy of the tract, called “The Book of Martyrs,” was found close by the bloody knife which had been discovered, and the additional testimony of a witness having been obtained of the prisoner having been seen getting over the railings of old Langtrey’s house on the night of the murder, he was committed for trial. His father also, of whose knowledge of and acquiescence in the murder there could be no doubt, was also secured, and committed to take his trial on the minor charge of harbouring his son, at the same assizes.
In the interim the additional evidence of the identity of a glove which had been found in the house of Mr. Langtrey, and which had been left there by the murderer, was procured, from which it appeared that it was one of a pair which had been given to young Stacey by a gentleman, and both of which he wore on the day on which the murder was committed.
During his confinement, young Stacey exhibited little contrition; but after having been visited by his three sisters, he appeared to become sensible of the awful nature of his position, and confessed to a fellow-prisoner that he was guilty of the crimes imputed to him, and communicated the manner in which he had murdered the poor old people. He said, that he had presented himself at the door with the tract in his hand, and thathaving gained admission to the house, he seized Mrs. Joliffe by the throat with an intention to strangle her, but that finding she resisted, he took the candlestick which she held in her hand from her, and beat her over the head with it until it was bent in all directions. She at length fell down, and then he seized the handle of a broom, with which he beat her, until she ceased to move, and he thought she was dead, the broom, however, being broken in the struggle. He then went up stairs to the old man, and seizing him by the collar, demanded his money. He made some resistance, and struck him with his stick; upon which he knocked him out of his chair; and taking up a tiling hammer, which he saw in the room, he killed him. Returning down stairs, he thought Mrs. Joliffe moved, and he struck her also repeated blows with the hammer, and at last took out his knife and cut her throat. Whilst engaged in this act, some one knocked at the door, and he became terribly alarmed; but he heard the person go away, and then he commenced his work of robbery. He was too hurried, however, to secure more than the bag containing 600l.; but before he took this, he cut the old man’s throat, in order to be certain that he was not watching him.
On the same day on which this most fearful detail of his crimes was made by young Stacey, his father also made a confession, pointing out the place in which he had concealed the bag of money. The turf had been cut out, and the bag placed beneath it, in such a manner as to have rendered it exceedingly doubtful that it would ever have been discovered, but for its being pointed out. The whole of the money was recovered, with the exception of about 30l., which had been spent by the younger prisoner in the purchase of a watch and seals, and some articles of clothing.
The trial of the prisoners came on before Mr. Justice Burrough, at Winchester, on Thursday the 30th of August, in the same year, when a verdict of guilty was returned upon the facts which we have detailed being proved in evidence.
The learned judge at once passed the sentence of death upon the younger prisoner, who was ordered to be executed on the following Monday, and his father was sentenced to be transported for life.
The day fixed for the execution being that upon which Magdalen Hill Fair was held, the concourse of people assembled was immense. The wretched criminal met his fate with sulky resolution, and declined the services of the chaplain, whom he had dismissed on the previous day. His parting from his father is related to have taken place without the smallest exhibition of regret or feeling on either side; and the miserable parent had so far overcome the ordinary sensations of paternal affection, as to request to be permitted to witness his son’s execution,—a request which was granted; and of the accordance to which he took advantage. The miserable youth appeared to suffer but little after he was turned off. Upon the scaffold he declared that he was assisted in the murder by an associate of his, whom he named; but who, subsequently, distinctly proved his innocence.
The execution took place on Monday, the 2nd of September 1829, at Winchester, opposite the jail.
INthe termination of the career of this unhappy young man, the direful effects of dissipation are clearly evidenced. Having received an education in Christ’s Hospital, and backed by interest calculated to procure for him advantages of a first-rate character, his weakness of mind led him step by step from a position of respectability through the various grades of dissipation, until it involved him in a system of crime, for which his life was taken away by the laws of his country.
Gifford’s father was originally a butler in the family of Mr. Abbott, afterwards Speaker of the House of Commons, and finally Lord Colchester. His mother was also a servant in the same family. On Mr. Gifford’s marriage, Mr. Abbott obtained for him a situation about the House of Commons; and when they had a family, care was evinced for the welfare and advancement of the children. Richard Gifford was the eldest son and child, and when he arrived at an age fit to be sent to school, admission into the admirable institution of Christ’s Hospital was obtained for him. After quitting the Blue Coat School, he had some occasional and temporary occupation as a writer in the Parliament offices. Eventually, through Lord Colchester’s influence, a situation was procured for him in the “National Debt Office;” and the death, advancement, or removal of those above him were most favourable to him, and he rose rapidly. For some time he gave satisfaction in his office; but, at last, the fatal peculiarities which ruined him—the love of drink, and low and abandoned company—broke out with undisguised violence, and he neglected both office and home. His inattention to business led to three or four several suspensions from his office; and it was only by the most powerful and influential intercession that his friends could have him restored: but, at length, his conduct was so outrageously bad, and his absences so long and continued, that he was finally dismissed. It was long before his friends could find him, and apprehensions began to be entertained whether he was still in existence; however, at last his mother (who was most tenderly attached to him) discovered his retreat. Having found him, she succeeded in getting him out of his infamous den, and in taking him home with her. On his part, contrition or concern about the past was not visible, and though the kindest efforts were made to keep him in the house, in the hope of estranging him from bad company and diverting him from infamous ways, to succeed his parents were obliged to keep him without hat or money, and almost without clothes. Eventually, it was supposed, or hoped, that he was somewhat changed, and that his disposition was a little mollified, which induced his mother, in particular, to take him out occasionally. He, however, finally absconded from his parents’ roof, revengefully announcing, that “he would make them remember their conduct to him—he would do for them yet,” and other such language. What became of him they knew not; at last, he was heard of as living in a respectable style, appearing well-dressed, at a house near the Waterloo-road. To account for the change, he gave it out that he was married, and that his wife had money. Almost the next thing heard of him was, his beingbefore the Lord Mayor, undergoing examination on charges of forgery on the Bank.
He was placed upon his trial at the Old Bailey sessions, in the month of October 1829, when he pleaded guilty to an indictment charging him with having personated William Green, of Crucifix-lane, brazier, and thereby having obtained 125l., being the value of stock standing in his name in the Bank-books. On the 6th of March the prisoner applied to Mr. Linton, a stock-broker, in Shorter’s-court, requesting him to sell out the stock standing in the name of William Green. The broker declined selling the stock, on the ground that he did not know the prisoner; upon which he replied, “Your father knows me well, and has frequently seen me at the National Debt Office.” The broker’s father was sent for, and on seeing the prisoner, said that he recollected him somewhere, but could not tell where. The broker was satisfied with this partial recognition, and made out the necessary documents for the transfer. The receipt for the transfer was signed by the prisoner in the name of Green, and on comparing it with one which had been previously given on the receipt of the dividend upon the same stock, the hand-writing was found to correspond.
He also pleaded guilty to an indictment charging him with having personated Richard Mann, and thereby obtained 27l., being the dividend due on 300l.Consolidated Bank Annuities, of which Mann was the proprietor. A few days after the fraud on Mr. Green, the prisoner went to the Rotunda, in the Bank, and introducing himself to a broker as Mr. Mann, requested him to witness his receipt of the dividend. The broker asked for a reference, and the prisoner named Mr. Linton, who happening to be close by, was instantly appealed to, and at once recognised the prisoner as being the person who had imposed upon him in the name of Green. The prisoner refused to withdraw his plea of guilty, although advised by the judge to do so.
Upon this sentence of death was at once passed; and upon the recorder’s report being made to his Majesty, the unhappy prisoner was ordered for execution.
Monday the 19th of October, was the day upon which the sentence was directed to be executed, and the convict upon being led out from his cell was totally unnerved, and glanced about him with a fearful and hurried look. He appeared deeply and bitterly to repent his crimes; and the wretched course of life he had adopted, in spite of the anxious solicitude of his parents.
He was executed with two other men, who had been convicted of house-breaking, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, on the 19th of October, 1829.
THEgreat singularity of the offence, as well as of the apprehension of this fellow, induces us to lay their short particulars before our readers. The prisoner was of that class called “Resurrection men,” and the crime of which he was convicted was committed by him and three of his associates in this horrible traffic.
Bell on the 17th December, 1829, was placed at the bar at the Maidstone Assizes before Mr. Baron Garrow, under a charge of burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Daniel Redday, at Deptford, and stealing therein a shirt, a worsted comforter, and the body of a black man whose name was unknown.—It appeared that Daniel Redday was a lodging-house keeper at Deptford; an unfortunate black man had come to lodge in his house shortly before the 20th of November, and on the 19th died suddenly. His body was laid out in a back room with the shirt on, and the comforter round his head, until a coroner’s jury could sit on him. In the course of the night of the 20th the prosecutor was alarmed by a noise in the room of the dead man. Not choosing to examine into the cause from within, he went out of the house, and soon perceived a ladder placed up against the window of the room in which the corpse was deposited, and four men, of whom the prisoner was one, on the ladder. In his hurry to apprehend them he ran against the ladder, and the whole four, with the corpse, the comforter, and the shirt, came to the ground. Three of the four men made a successful retreat, but the prisoner was taken into custody.—The jury found him Guilty, and Mr. Baron Garrow, after having commented upon the heinous nature of his crime, aimed as it was at the best interests of society, sentenced him to be transported for life.
WEdo not recollect that we have ever met with an instance of a burglary having been committed attended with greater violence or atrocity, than that for which this man underwent the punishment of death.
The Reverend William Warrington, it appears, was a gentleman of large property, residing at Grove Cottage, West Moulsey, in the vicinity of that well-known spot, Moulsey Hurst, Surrey; and on the night of Wednesday, 19th of November, 1828, his house was entered by four burglars, and a great quantity of valuable property carried off. Mr. Warrington’s house adjoined that of Mr. Jeffs, a magistrate of the county, and a ladder, which had been accidentally left in the garden of the latter gentleman, was employed by the thieves in effecting an entrance to the house, which they had determined to rob. The circumstances attending the burglary are as follows:—
Between one and two o’clock on Wednesday morning, Mrs. Warrington was in her bed-chamber engaged in writing, and Mr. Warrington was inthe same room in bed, asleep, when the former was terrified by hearing some persons at the back part of the house attempting to force a window on the first floor, which opened to a staircase and to a passage leading to the bed-room. Before she had time to alarm her husband, the fastenings of the window were wrenched off, without breaking the glass, and as she opened her bed-room door, she beheld four men, who had entered at the window by means of the ladder before-mentioned, in the act of ascending the stairs and approaching her chamber. Her fears were so excessive, that she was struck speechless for a few seconds. When she recovered, she shrieked, and exclaimed, “Good God, we shall be murdered; there are thieves in the house.” Her husband was awoke instantly by her cries, and he had just time to leap from his bed and proceed in his shirt to the mantelpiece, on which he constantly kept a loaded pistol, before the four villains entered the chamber. He seized the pistol, levelled it at one of the thieves, and fired, but without effect. The first man who entered the room, a dark, ferocious-looking fellow, however, in turn drew from under his coat a pistol, and presented it at Mr. Warrington. The villain pulled the trigger, but the powder did not ignite. He recocked it, and pulled it a second time, and it flashed in the pan. Mrs. Warrington fell upon her knees, and in the most earnest and affecting manner implored the villains not to murder her husband, but to take all the property without interruption. The thieves then produced some cords (which they had stolen from Mr. Jeffs’ garden), and tied Mr. and Mrs. Warrington’s hands and feet. Their hands they tied fast behind their backs, and cautioned them to be silent as they valued their lives. They left Mr. and Mrs. Warrington in their bed-room for a few minutes, and proceeded up stairs to the servants’ sleeping apartments, and there they bound two female servants (the only persons in the house beside Mr. and Mrs. W.) with cords, in the same manner in which they had previously bound the others. After they had bound them, the four robbers carried them down stairs to a vault which was under the house, and fastened them in that cold place, with scarcely any covering. The villains then returned to Mr. Warrington’s bed-room, searched his clothes, and broke open his desks and drawers, and, in truth, ransacked the house completely. They took cash to the amount of about 30l., and jewels and plate of considerable value, with which they decamped. The servants had been confined for several hours in the vault, when one of them, after much exertion, released one of her hands from the cord, and forced her way through the door of the vault. After ascending the steps, she found another door fastened, and she had to break through that before she could assist her master and mistress, who were in the most deplorable state of agitation. She unloosed the cords which secured them, and having released her fellow-servant also, they alarmed Mr. Jeffs’ family and the other neighbours. Mr. Warrington found that not only all his portable property of value was carried off, but that the villains had actually stolen a horse, value 80 guineas, from the stable, and had taken his phaeton from his chaise-house, and by these means had carried off their booty. Mr. Warrington sent information of the robbery to Mr. Cooke, constable of Kingston, who set off in pursuit of the robbers. He was able to trace the phaeton and horse and two of the robbers from the house of Mr. Warrington, by a very circuitous route, to Walton-bridge, and from thence through several by-roads to Knightsbridge.
The Burglars. P. 202.The Burglars.P. 202.
On the same day Mr. Warrington also gave information of the robbery at Bow-street, and Ellis, Ruthven, and Bishop, were directed to institute an investigation with a view to the apprehension of the thieves.
Upon the arrival of the officers at the house of Mr. Warrington various minute circumstances transpired, which induced a strong belief in their minds that the robbery had not been committed by experienced thieves; and that it had been “put up,” or sanctioned by some person in the house. The clumsy manner in which the boxes and drawers had been opened seemed to point to the first impression, and the undoubted circumstance of six buck-shot having been withdrawn from Mr. Warrington’s pistol which had been lying on the mantelpiece during several days, led to the latter conclusion. Suspicion seemed to attach to one of the female servants, who had been familiarly accosted by her name, “Fanny,” by one of the robbers, and who had been the first to secure her escape from the cords by which she had been confined, and she was taken into custody. After a few days’ imprisonment, however, the officers declared themselves unable to produce any positive evidence against her, and she was discharged.
From this time the most anxious exertions were made by the police-officers to secure the robbers. Every means in their power was tried; but although they succeeded in tracing them by witnesses to London, where Mr. Warrington’s carriage and horse were found, they were unable to discover who were the persons by whom the burglary had been perpetrated.
In the month of July 1829, however, the long-pending mystery was solved. A man named Barnett, a Jew, had been convicted of a burglary in the house of Mr. Colebatch, in Thames-street, for which he had been sentenced to transportation for life; but anxious to save himself from the infliction of this punishment, he tendered information as to the parties who had composed “The Moulsey Gang,” as they were now called, upon condition of his liberty being restored to him. The proposition was at once accepted, and he immediately impeached Banks, and four other men named John Smith, William Johnson, James Taylor, and William Potts,aliasEmery. The officers instantly set about endeavouring to procure the apprehension of these persons, and Cragg, a resolute officer of Bow-street, was directed to proceed in search of Banks. This fellow was a notorious thief, and was suspected to have been concerned in many robberies which had recently been committed; but Cragg had heard that he had frequently declared his resolution not to be taken alive. The officer, however, was determined in his object, and attiring himself in the garb of a butcher, he proceeded in search of him. Many days elapsed before he could find him, but at length meeting with him, he rushed at him, and presenting a pistol at his head, called upon him to surrender himself a prisoner. Banks appeared astounded at this salutation and made no resistance, but exclaimed, “I am a dead man.” On his person being searched, a loaded pistol was found in his pocket, and on his back was a coat, which was a part of the produce of a robbery in which he had been recently before concerned, in the house of Mr. Campion, at Waltham Cross.
The other prisoners were apprehended nearly at the same time; and Potts was proved to have pawned a pair of shoes which had also been stolen from Mr. Campion’s. Upon their examination before the magistrates at Bow-street, Banks’ participation in both burglaries was clearlyproved, and he was committed for trial. Both Mr. and Mrs. Warrington identified him as one of the persons who had entered their house, but pointed him out as having acted with some degree of humanity, strongly protesting against the exercise of any cruelty by his companions.
Banks alone was committed for trial upon the charge of burglary at Mr. Warrington’s, the evidence against the other prisoners not being sufficiently conclusive to warrant their being indicted, and was found guilty, and sentenced to death at the succeeding Surrey assizes.
After his conviction, he professed himself to be perfectly willing to meet his fate, as he knew nothing of a state hereafter, declaring that all he cared about being hanged was for the pain it would cause him. He refused to receive any consolation from the chaplain, and was perfectly unmoved up to the time of his being pinioned.
He was hanged at Horsemonger-lane jail on the 11th of January, 1830.
THEcrime which subjected this criminal to condign punishment was that of the murder of an aged widow and her daughter, to whom he was related by the ties of marriage.
Mr. Franks, at the time of the murders lately deceased, was gamekeeper to the late Lord Elcho; and when age, and consequently frailty, rendered him incompetent to the prompt discharge of his duties, his lordship made such arrangements as enabled his old and respected servant to subsist in an humble but comfortable independence. On the 26th of July, 1829, Mr. Franks was consigned to the grave, and he left the hapless subjects of this notice—a widow, nearly fifty, and a daughter of fifteen years of age—to lament his death.
On Sunday, the 25th of October, according to custom, they attended the Rev. Mr. Hogg’s chapel, and, no doubt, they had very little suspicion that it was for the last time. The house in which they resided near Haddington was about one hundred yards from the village of Abbey, in East Lothian, and with the garden was enclosed by a wall above six feet in height. The village youth never once thought of stealing fruit from people so warmly beloved, and consequently the garden-door stood always open. On that night they were brutally murdered. His plans carefully matured, the murderer deliberately fastened the garden-door, so that the escape of the intended victims, and any attempts at resistance, were rendered exceedingly difficult. He then scaled the wall, and proceeded to the awful work of homicide. His first attempt to gain admittance was at a window in front of the house. He broke two panes of glass; but the inside shutters were too securely fastened to yield to his efforts. Baffled and disappointed, he had recourse to another window in the same room; and after breaking two panes of glass, and using great exertion, the keeper gave way, and the monster obtained admission. He passed deliberately through the room, through a sinuous passage, through the kitchen, and then burst into the bedroom of Mrs. Franks and her daughter. The unfortunate ladies had been alarmed by the noise the villain made in breaking into their sanctuary. Themother had time to throw her gown over a petticoat; but the daughter, a stranger to the crimes of the world, and naturally possessing a more tranquil mind, and being more soundly asleep, had barely time to clothe herself with the gown she had on at church, ere she was in the grasp of her ruthless murderer. Dread, desperation, and the potent instinct of self-preservation naturally incited a resolute resistance; but the well-prepared and determined murderer prevailed. In the vain and delusive hope of escape the wretched mother fled from the appalling scene of death, and ran to the garden-door, expecting to reach the village; but there she was stopped by the cool and fiendish deliberation of her destroyer. Having despatched the daughter, he followed the mother, seized her at the garden-door, and with one of her own table-knives, ended her life, by nearly severing the head from her body. He then threw the bleeding corpse into a hogsty, which was only ten yards distant; and the marks of the ruffian’s gory hands were observable on the entry-door. The bloody tragedy being finished, the scarcely less important consideration next came—that of plunder. He coolly locked the kitchen-door inside, turned out the contents of the drawers, and ransacked all the repositories; indeed, so minute and persevering was the search, that a considerable breadth of plaster was torn from the roof of a room in the attic story, where there had previously been a small aperture, in expectation, no doubt, that money was concealed in that unusual place. The rings were torn from the ears of Mrs. Franks; three gold rings, it is said, were taken from her finger, which were carried off, along with a silver watch. Having completed his unhallowed undertaking, and secured all the plunder that suited his purpose, the ruffian retired, as he had entered, by the window.
Neither on the Monday nor Tuesday following was Mrs. Franks or her daughter observed; but this excited no surprise, as it was concluded by those by whom they were missed, that they were absent on a friendly visit to the sister of the former at North Berwick. On Wednesday morning, a woman requested a young man to make his way over the garden-wall, and ascertain if a pig that belonged to Mrs. Franks had any provision. He promptly obeyed; and on looking into the hogsty, was horrified by the sight of the widow’s mangled remains. He gave an involuntary but vehement scream, and his employer, Mr. Dudgeon, a miller, and a number more, promptly repaired to the spot. The body was taken out, and, to their inexpressible horror, they discovered that the throat was cut from ear to ear. Alarming suspicions flashed across their minds; they instantly ran to the house, and having obtained an entrance, they discovered the daughter—pale, dead, lying amidst a quantity of blood, and the brain protruding from her skull.
Suspicions of the guilt of Emond from circumstances which became known to the authorities were at once excited; and efforts were made to secure his apprehension. He had resided for some time at North Berwick, and was married to that very sister of Mrs. Franks, whom it was supposed she had gone to visit; and repeated expressions of dislike on his part towards his sister-in-law, and of threatened revenge for her interference in his family quarrels, were deemed sufficient to justify the course which was taken. In the course of a few days he was apprehended; but it was not until the 8th of February 1830 that he was brought to trial. The investigation took place before the High Court of Justiciary at Edinburgh,and the wretched criminal was pronounced guilty amidst a tumultuous burst of execration, and was ordered for execution on the 17th of March.
Immediately after his trial the convict confessed that he had committed the dreadful crimes imputed to him, under the circumstances which we have narrated. He appeared, however, to view his murder of Mrs. Franks as an act which her previous conduct towards him justified; but when he alluded to the death of her daughter, he appeared struck with remorse and despair, exclaiming wildly, “Innocent blood calls for vengeance.”
On the appointed day the prisoner underwent the punishment due to his crimes, at the end of Libberton’s Wynd. On the Friday before his death he was visited by his wife, for the first time during his imprisonment. On being informed she was come, he exclaimed, “Oh, God, how can I meet her—how can I see her!” She refused to proceed farther than the cell door, and on seeing her husband, said, “Oh, Robert, Robert, you see what you have brought yourself to!” He used some soothing expressions, and going as far as his chains would permit, said, “Mary, will you not shake hands with me?” but she shrunk back, saying, “Oh, no, no; how can I touch you?” However, by the persuasion of the clergyman, she did shake hands with him. He then wished to impress on her, that he always loved her affectionately; but she replied, “Oh, Robert, ye ken your conduct didna look like that.” They were beginning to recriminate, when it was thought best to finish the interview. She was again asked to shake hands at parting, but at first refused, exclaiming, “Oh, no, no—I cannot touch him;” but being advised to extend her hand, which he held firmly, she shuddered and shrieked out, “Oh that hand, that hand!” On being told that a Mrs. Cron was with his wife, he said, “I would to God that infernal woman had been in place of the girl (meaning Magdalene Franks). Were I as free as ever, I would be hanged this night, this instant, if I had her here, and had my revenge.” The criminal accused this woman of fomenting differences between him and his wife.
At six o’clock in the morning of the day fixed for the execution, the Rev. Mr. Porteous, who had been unwearied in his attentions to the unhappy man, arrived and performed the religious exercises. About seven o’clock, he was pinioned in the usual form.
The morning was cloudy and drizzling; but at an early hour the crowd began to collect from all quarters, and a perfect stream of people passed up the High-street for nearly two hours. The street, windows, terraces, and chimney-tops, were densely peopled. Some hundreds of persons from Haddington, North Berwick, and the adjacent villages attended.
A few minutes past eight the culprit ascended the scaffold. His appearance elicited a huzza from the boys among the crowd, but no grown-up person joined in the unseemly and appalling shout. He was attended by his brother, who joined him with the reverend gentleman, in psalm-singing and prayer. The unhappy man remained firm and composed throughout, but changed colour frequently when the executioner proceeded to do his duty. He then shook hands with his brother, and the official attendants said he was now ready, and bade them all farewell. After a few moments in private prayer, the signal was dropped, and the platform instantly fell. His struggles were unusually long and violent, and it was apparently fouror five minutes before the vital spark had fled. Emond was a man of short stature, with ill-proportioned features, and had, on the whole, a very unprepossessing look. After hanging the usual time, the body was lowered down into the shell, and conveyed to the Lock-up House, whence it was afterwards taken to the College for public dissection.