THEcase of this prisoner affords a remarkable proof of the folly of practical jokes, and the mischievous results which may proceed from them.
Race was indicted at Bury St. Edmunds, on Monday the 30th of March 1840, for the manslaughter of Thomas Buck. It appeared that the prisoner was a vendor of hot-spice gingerbread at fairs; and the deceased was a well-known itinerant son of Thespis in that part of the country, who presented the primitive drama in all its original simplicity to the wondering rustics. Sometimes, when “deep tragedy” failed in its natural effect upon the popular mind, Buck, always fertile in the resources of his art, though, perhaps, not overflowing with other resources, would have recourse to the ready expedient of producing a “sensation” which is called by the learned “practical joking,” and by the vulgar “larking.” One of the rural actors, not in Buck’s “legitimate drama,” but in his “larks,” was the hot-spice gingerbread artist, whose cakes and “nuts” were not more spicy than his jokes. On the evening laid in the indictment, the theatrical booth, with its uncovered stage in front, had been erected on the classic ground of Felsham, celebrated for its fair—thecorps dramatiqueappeared on the stage in front of the booth, and, in the flaming robes and sweeping drapery of the tragic muse, endeavoured to attract the attention of the motley crowd, who were just then busily intent upon the performances of a neighbouring juggler, whose comic grimaces and fantastic gambols they greatly admired. Under these circumstances, the solemn pomp and tragic splendour of Buck’s stage, paraded as it was by heroes of herculean proportions and stentorian voices, and by heroines of matchless grace and disdainful beauty, lost its powers of attraction—it did not “draw” an audience,—and it was necessary, for many reasons, that an audience should be assembled. The gingerbread baker, who, perhaps, had cause to take an interest in the finances of the company, and who had frequently before, as was stated, enacted the part of one of thedramatis personæof a “lark,” saw that this was the moment when a decisive blow ought to be struck to detach the admiring crowd from the too successful juggler, and bring them to Buck’s theatre by the attractive influence of some novelty. He, therefore, with the best intentions towards Buck and his company, went up to a “property-man”
A Tragical Joke. P. 551.A Tragical Joke.P. 551.
who had a gun in his hand, took it gently from him, and asked him whether it was loaded; the other told him that it was loaded with powder and wadding only, upon which the manufacturer of gilt gingerbread said, “I will have a lark with Buck, and bring people on the stage.” Having said this, he ran up the steps of the outside stage, presented the gun at Buck, and discharged it within two feet and a half of his body. Buck reeled, and fell into the arms of one of the orchestral performers; and the spectators, thinking the whole thing an excellent piece of acting, rapturously applauded. But alas! it was no acting at all. The wadding had penetrated his side, and inflicted a rupture of the heart, of which he almost instantly died. Buck’s “poor play of life” was over, and the curtain fell that evening on a deeper tragedy than the company had performed for many a year.
An excellent character for kindness and humanity was given to the prisoner by many persons, which the learned judge took into account in sentencing him, upon being pronounced “Guilty of Manslaughter” by the jury.
After some admonitory remarks upon the danger and criminality of indulging in “larks” and practical jokes with fire-arms, his lordship ordered him to be imprisoned for one month.
THESEunhappy men were labourers, and were born and brought up in the neighbourhood of the spot, where they committed the inhuman and premeditated murder, for which their lives were eventually taken away by the executioner.
They were tried at Bodmin, in Cornwall, on the 30th of March, 1840, before Mr. Justice Coltman, on an indictment, which charged them with the wilful murder of Mr. Nevill Norway, a timber merchant, residing at Wadebridge, in the same county, on the 8th of the preceding month of February.
The case excited the greatest interest in the remote district in which it occurred, as well from the high estimation in which the unfortunate deceased gentleman was held, as from the circumstance of his murder having been effected by two brothers; each of whom, since their apprehension, had sought to fix the guilt of the transaction on the other. At an early hour in the morning on which the trial was appointed to take place, every corner of the Court-house was crowded with persons, many of whom had travelled a considerable distance, in the hope of obtaining a glimpse of the culprits.
At nine o’clock in the morning the learned judge entered the court, and the prisoners were then immediately placed at the bar. They betrayed little agitation at the awful position in which they were placed, and surveyed the assembled multitude with great coolness and self-possession. Up to the time of their trial, they had been kept apart in the jail in which they had been confined; and they now observed each other with evident mutual dislike and mistrust.
The circumstances of the case, as they were proved on the trial, were as follows:—
Mr. Norway was a highly respectable timber and general merchant, residing at Wadebridge, about nine miles from Bodmin. In the course of his business he was in the habit of visiting the different markets in the neighbourhood, and on the 8th of February, he attended the market at Bodmin. About four o’clock that afternoon he had his purse in his hand, and was in the act of paying some money, when the prisoner, William Lightfoot, walked close by him, and must have seen what he was doing. Shortly before ten in the evening, he left Bodmin on his grey horse, accompanied by another person, who, however, left him, after they had proceeded about three miles on the road, and Mr. Norway was observed to pursue his course towards Wadebridge. A farmer of the neighbourhood was shortly afterwards going to the same village, and when about two miles from it he saw a grey horse on the road, saddled, but without a rider. He tried at first to overtake it, but the horse struck into a gallop, and he gave up the race; but his curiosity was excited, and upon meeting some men on the road, and making inquiry, they told him they thought it was Mr. Norway’s horse. This induced him to call at Mr. Norway’s house, and he found the horse standing at the stable gate. The servants were called out, and spots of blood were found upon the saddle. A doctor was immediately summoned, and two of the servants sallied forth on the Bodmin road, in quest of their master. It may be remarked that this road was extremely lonely, and very hilly; and altogether presenting a most favourable place for the commission of any atrocious act. The servants pursued the course of the road, and having got about two miles, one of them perceived something shining in a small stream of water, or rivulet, on the right hand side. This led to a further examination, and it proved to be the body of their unfortunate master, lying on his back in the stream, with his feet towards the road, quite dead.
The body was directly placed on the horse, and conveyed home, and Mr. Tickle, the surgeon, proceeded to examine it. He found that the deceased had received injuries about the face and head, produced apparently by heavy and repeated blows from some blunt instrument, which had undoubtedly been the cause of death. A wound was discovered on the chin, into which it appeared as if some gunpowder had been carried in its infliction; and the bones of the nose, the forehead, the left side of the head, and the back of the head, were fractured in a most frightful manner; severe lacerations of the flesh having been caused by the blows with which the injuries had been dealt. An immediate examination of the spot where the body of Mr. Norway was found, took place, and on the left hand side of the road a pool of blood was discovered, from which, to the rivulet opposite, there was distinctly visible a track, as if produced by some heavy body being dragged from one to the other. Around this spot were marks of footsteps, as if, in the language of one of the witnesses who was examined, there had been “a scramble” there; and at the rivulet there were also indications of a man having been there recently before. In the course of the subsequent search in the vicinity of this spot, it became obvious that two persons had been engaged in the murder, and that they had remained, as if on watch for their intended victim, pacing backwards and forwards, in an orchard attached to an uninhabited cottage close by. The hatof the deceased was picked up immediately near the spot where the murderers’ footsteps were distinguishable, and at a distance of about a foot and a half or two feet from the pool of blood, was picked up the hammer of a pistol, which appeared to have been newly broken off. Other appearances were observed, which gave clear indications that a terrible struggle had taken place; but at this time no circumstances transpired, which could in the slightest degree tend to cast suspicion upon any one.
Upon the pockets of the clothes of the deceased being examined, it became obvious that robbery had been the object of the attack upon him. His purse and money, and a tablet and bunch of keys, were found to have been carried off; and all efforts to find any of the missing articles in the neighbourhood of the scene of the murder proved ineffectual.
Every exertion was now made to discover the perpetrators of this diabolical crime, and large rewards were offered for evidence which should tend to point them out. Jackson, a constable attached to the London police, was sent for; and through his exertions, facts were elicited which distinctly showed that the prisoners were the men who were the real offenders. A man named Harris, a shoe-maker, was first brought forward, who recollected having seen the prisoners on the night of the murder, in the immediate vicinity of the brook where the body was found; and a man named Ayres, who lived next door to James Lightfoot, having suggested that every man, who was out late that night, should be made to account for his time, stated that he recollected having heard his neighbour, the prisoner, enter his house at a late hour; and having communicated something to his wife, which, although the partition between their houses was very thin, he could not hear, she and her child began to cry. This led to an examination of the prisoner’s house, on the 14th of February, and a pistol was found, without a lock, concealed in a hole in a beam, running across the ceiling. The prisoner attempted to account for the pistol being broken, by saying, that he had done it in killing a cat; but his manner being suspicious, he was taken into custody.
He was directly carried before a magistrate, by whom he was remanded until the 19th of the same month; and on the 17th his brother William was also secured, in consequence of a conversation which he had had on the 14th, with a man named Vercoe, upon the subject of the murder; in which he had suggested that Ayres was the cause of his brother’s apprehension, and that if his brother were punished, he must be so too, for that “they were both in it.” He was also examined before a magistrate, and he directly made the following confession:—
“I went to Bodmin last Saturday week, the 8th instant, and in returning I met my brother James, just up at the head of Dunmeer Hill. It was just come dim like. My brother had been to Egloshayle Burlawn, to buy potatoes. Something had been said about meeting; but I was not certain about that. My brother was not in Bodmin on that day. Mr. Vercoe overtook us between Mount Charles turnpike-gate, at the top of Dunmeer Hill, and a place called Lane End. We came on the turnpike-road all the way till we came to the house near the spot where the murder was committed. We did not go into the house, but hid ourselves in a field. We did not see Mr. Abbott’s waggon. My brother knocked Mr. Norway down. He snapped a pistol at him twice and it did not go off. Then he knocked him down with the pistol. I was there along with him. He was struckwhilst on horseback. It was on the turnpike-road between Pencarrow Mill and the directing-post towards Wadebridge; and it was last Saturday week. I cannot say at what time of the night it was. We left the body in the water, on the left side of the road coming to Wadebridge. We took something. It was money, in a purse; but I do not know how much. It was a brownish purse. There were some papers, which my brother took and pitched away in a field, on the left hand side of the road behind the house. They were pitched away at the head of the field into some browse or furze. The purse was hid away by me in my garden; and afterwards I threw it over Pendavey-bridge: the lower side of the bridge. My brother drew the body across the road to the watering. I threw away the purse last Friday. The contents of it were not examined before it was thrown away. We did not know who it was before we stopped him. When my brother snapped the pistol at Mr. Norway, Mr. Norway said ‘I know what you are about, I see you.’ We went home across the fields. We were not disturbed by any one. It was not above three or four minutes before we left him. The pistol belonged to my brother; I don’t know whether it was broken; I never saw it afterwards; and I do not know what became of it. I never advised my brother to burn it; and I don’t know whether it was soiled with blood. I did not see any blood on my brother’s clothes; we returned together from the spot, crossing the river at Pendavey-bridge, and crossed Treraren fields over Treraren ground, across a field or two to Burlawn village. My brother then went to his house, and I went to my own house. I think it was handy about eleven o’clock; but I cannot tell more than what I think about the time. I saw my brother again on the Sunday morning. He came up to my house. There was nobody there, I believe, but my own family. He said, ‘Dear me, Mr. Norway’s killed.’ I did not make any reply. I went to bed as soon as I came home on the Saturday night.”
The prisoner upon this was remanded to Bodmin Jail, where his brother was already confined; and, on his way to that place, he pointed out a furze-bush in which the tablets and keys of the deceased gentleman were found concealed.
On the 19th the prisoner James Lightfoot was carried back from Bodmin to Wadebridge for re-examination, and upon this point the evidence of Jackson, the policeman, was taken at the trial, to prove a confession made by the prisoner, corresponding in effect with that which had been made by his brother, though he strove to fix on him the guilt of the commencement of the murderous attack.
The evidence of this witness was corroborated by that of another constable, who was in the same chaise with them; and the turnkey of Bodmin Jail also swore, that very shortly after William Lightfoot had been in prison, he said to him that his mind had been so much troubled that he had told Mr. Molesworth the whole truth. That he and his brother had met by appointment, and were determined to have some money; that when Mr. Norway came up, James snapped his pistol at him twice; that he (William) then gave him a blow with a stick; that he fell off his horse, and that James struck him with his pistol.
Other evidence was produced, the effect of which was to corroborate the statements of the two prisoners; but, when called upon for their defence, the wretched men declared themselves innocent of the offence imputed to them.
The learned judge having then summed up the evidence, the jury returned a verdict of “Guilty.”
Mr. Justice Coltman passed the awful sentence of death in the most feeling terms.
The prisoners exhibited no agitation or want of firmness during the address of the learned judge, and, at its conclusion, were directly conducted from the bar to the interior of the jail.
Up to this time, as we have already stated, the miserable brothers had been allowed no opportunity for communication, and the discrepancy between their stories exhibits distinctly enough the object of each to screen himself, and to secure the conviction of the other. The double confession, however, prevented the attainment of their desires, and they both fell just victims to their crimes. After the passing of the sentence on them, they were carried to the same cell, and were now, for the first time, allowed to approach each other. They had scarcely met before, in the most hardened manner, they commenced mutually vituperative attacks, and even proceeded to blows. The immediate interference of the jailors prevented a continuance of this disgraceful scene, and the wretched convicts were once again removed to separate apartments.
For several days the unhappy culprits exhibited the most callous indifference to their situation.
On the 7th of April they had a farewell interview with their families. It was of the most distressing description. After the departure of their wives and children, they appeared to be conscious of the awful situation in which they were placed; they became communicative, and listened more attentively to the exhortations of the Rev. F. Kendall and the Rev. W. Molesworth, whose parishioners they were. Great hopes are indulged that the unhappy men were actuated by sincere feelings of repentance.
On Sunday morning, the 12th of April, they attended the chapel belonging to the jail, when an appropriate sermon was preached by the chaplain, from Acts xvi. v. 25—“And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises unto God; and the prisoners heard them;” and, in the afternoon, the Rev. F. Cole, of St. Feock, delivered an impressive sermon, from Romans vi. v. 23—“The wages of sin is death;” to which the prisoners paid the deepest attention. After the service they returned to their cells, ate and drank heartily what was given them, retired to bed at the usual hour, and slept soundly all night.
Monday, the 13th of April, had been fixed upon as the day of execution, and on that morning, shortly before eleven, Mr. Smith, the under-sheriff, proceeded to the cells, when portions of Scripture were read by the Rev. Mr. Kendall, and the sacrament was administered to the prisoners by the Rev. W. Molesworth. During the whole of this trying scene the brothers evinced the greatest fortitude. They were then conducted across the yard to the place of execution, preceded by the clergyman, reading the burial service—“I am the resurrection and the life,” &c. The unhappy men were ghastly pale, but were perfectly collected, walked with a firm step, and ascended the ladder without the slightest assistance. Before being placed on the drop, they shook hands with the persons around them, and thanked the clergymen and others for their kindness and attention. They each then requested the conveyance of some last communication to their families, and, in a few moments, the drop fell.
Upwards of ten thousand persons had assembled to witness the dreadful end of the unhappy wretches, and but little commiseration was exhibited for their fate.
It is highly creditable to the inhabitants of Cornwall to state, that no less a sum than 3500l.was collected between the time at which the murder was committed and that of the execution, for the use of the destitute widow and family of the murdered man.
The execution took place at Bodmin, on Monday, the 13th April, 1840; the prisoner, William Lightfoot, being thirty-six years of age, while his brother, James, had only attained his twenty-third year.
THEearly life of this most atrocious malefactor is involved in some degree of uncertainty, as, from his sullen and dogged indifference during the period of his confinement in jail, but few particulars concerning his parentage and education could be obtained from him. From his own statement, at the period of his trial he was only twenty-three years of age; and there is good reason to believe, that although upon all occasions he stated his name to be Richard Gould, he was born of respectable parents, whose name was Nicholson. His father carried on the business of a publican; but, having failed, he determined to emigrate to Van Diemen’s Land with his family, and the necessary preparations for the voyage were made. Our hero, however, whose disposition had always exhibited him to be a person of unsteady determination, at the last moment rejected the offer of his father to accompany him, and, having secreted himself until the period of the departure of the vessel in which he was to have sailed, had passed, at the age of eighteen years found himself his own master, and without employment, in London.
In a condition of absolute destitution, he was driven to seek for the means of livelihood; and, devoid of the knowledge or the introduction requisite to procure for him a situation in exact consonance with the rank of life in which the condition of his parents had entitled him to move, he accepted an engagement as pot-boy at the Duke of Cumberland public-house, Red Lion-street, Spitalfields. In this condition, by no means calculated to lead him to form connexions or habits likely to improve his position in society, he appears to have made acquaintances by whose instrumentality he was gradually conducted to the vices of dissipation and intemperance, and, after about twelve months’ employment, he was discharged by his master. From this time he seems to have supported himself in a loose and discreditable manner for about a year and a half, at the expiration of which time he called at the house of his late master, and informed him, that he had enlisted in the hussars. Subsequently, he again made his appearance there, saying that he was about to proceed to Ireland, where he hoped to obtain employment as an engineer; and, about three weeks before his apprehension on the dreadful charge of murder, upon which he was subsequently tried, he a third time called, saying that he had just returned from the trip, the nature of which he had described upon his former visit.This statement, however, appears to be untrue; for during a considerable portion of the period of his absence, he was known in the neighbourhood of Islington, where he was employed as a pot-boy at the Barnsbury Castle public-house.
It was upon the morning of Tuesday, the 17th of March 1840, that the murder was discovered for which Gould was eventually indicted. Mr. John Templeman, the unfortunate victim of this most dreadful crime, was about seventy years of age at the period of his death. He resided in one of numerous small cottages erected in an open space called Pocock’s-fields, near Barnsbury Park, Islington, principally occupied by persons of the poorer grades of life. He lived by himself, and was possessed of a small income, arising from the rents of one or two houses which belonged to him in Somers Town. The supposed miserly habits of the old man, and the great desire which he appeared to entertain to be considered rich, and which he exhibited by constantly boasting of his property, were the undoubted causes which led to the dreadful catastrophe by which he was deprived of life.
It appears that on Monday the 16th of March, he went as usual to Somers Town to collect the money due to him for the rent of his houses; and having called upon his tenants, he received of them 6l., the whole of which was paid him in silver, except one half-sovereign. Upon his return home, he sent for a Mrs. Thornton, who acted as his char-woman, and who lived in an adjacent cottage, to whom he communicated the fact of the receipt of the money; and having instructed her to procure various trifling articles of which he stood in need, at about six o’clock he retired to rest. On the following morning Mrs. Thornton sent her daughter to the house of the deceased with some of the commodities which she had been directed to purchase, and she knocked at the door, and called Mr. Templeman by name. No answer was returned, and she went back and informed her mother of her inability to obtain admittance to the house; and then upon Mrs. Thornton proceeding to the cottage and looking in at the bed-room window, she was horror-stricken at finding the unfortunate old man stretched upon the floor brutally murdered. For a time she was at a loss to know what proceedings to take in reference to this most dreadful transaction; but being aware that the deceased had a grandson, a solicitor, in Mortimer-street, Cavendish-square, she determined to await the arrival of her son-in-law, a Frenchman, named Capriani, who was employed as a night-watchman at Sadler’s Wells theatre, in order that he might take the necessary steps in the affair. At eleven o’clock in the day he returned home; and then upon his being made acquainted with what had occurred, he at once proceeded to the residence of Mr. Templeman, jun., to inform him of the murder, omitting altogether to give any information to the police of the discovery which had taken place. During the absence of Capriani, the baker who was in the habit of delivering bread at the cottage of the deceased arrived, but was met by Mrs. Thornton, who sent him away, saying he would get no answer there; but Mr. Templeman, jun., soon after making his appearance, the police were called in, and informed of the horrid transaction.
A minute examination of the house of the deceased then took place; and from the appearances which presented themselves, it became evident that the murder had been committed in the most savage manner. The body of the deceased lay extended on the ground, covered only with a night-gown,his hands being bound in front with a strong cord, and his eyes being also bandaged with a stocking bearing marks of blood. The bed was completely saturated with blood, and the floor presented indications of a desperate conflict having taken place. On examining the body, several severe wounds were found at the back of the head; the forehead was completely dashed in by a violent blow from some heavy instrument; the nose and both jaw-bones were broken; and the mouth was severely bruised and mutilated; while three of the teeth of the poor old man, wrenched from their sockets, were found lying on the carpet. The house, which consisted of two rooms only, was in a state of great confusion. The drawers had been forced open, and the box in which it was known the deceased kept his money had been ransacked of its contents. In the sitting-room the pipe of the deceased was found lying upon the table, and beside it lay a number of books of a religious tendency exhibiting the manner in which the old man had spent the later hours of his life. Upon the search being continued, to ascertain the means by which ingress had been obtained to the house, it was discovered that the outer shutter, which was of slight materials, having been first forced open, a pane of glass in the parlour window had been broken through, and then a hand might have been introduced to open the door on the inside.
The circumstances which had hitherto been disclosed left but little clue to the murderer, but some suspicion being attached to Capriani from the delay which had taken place in the discovery of the murder by him to the police, he was taken into custody. The examinations which were made by the police in the course of the ensuing day or two, however, satisfactorily proved that Capriani was in nowise implicated in the horrid affair, and he was discharged; but soon afterwards Gould, and a man and his wife, named John and Mary Ann Jarvis, were apprehended. The evidence which was discovered in reference to these persons soon demonstrated the innocence of the man Jarvis, and he was set at liberty; and subsequently, although a close intimacy was proved to exist between Gould and Mrs. Jarvis, it was found that no such proofs remained against the latter as to induce a probable belief of her guilt, and she too was discharged from custody.
Gould, in the mean time, underwent many examinations at Hatton-Garden police-office, upon the charge of being concerned in the murder, the utmost interest and excitement being occasioned by the mystery connected with its committal. It would be useless to go through the history of the investigations which took place before the magistrates, and also before the coroner, upon this case; but there can be little doubt, that if those functionaries had not suffered themselves to be led away by feelings with respect to the comparative importance of their respective offices, inconsistent with the due performance of their duties, and that if the police had, in the ordinary language of their calling, “managed the case well,” a conviction which every one now must believe would have been a proper one, would have secured to justice the punishment of a most heinous offender. Such portion of the evidence which was brought forward at these various examinations, as could legally be produced against the prisoner, was adduced upon his trial at the Old Bailey; and we shall proceed to describe that inquiry, and the occurrences which subsequently took place.
The case came on to be tried before Mr. Baron Alderson, at the Central Criminal Court, on Tuesday, the 14th of April, Mr. Chadwick Jonesappearing as counsel for the prosecution, and Mr. Chambers conducting the defence of the prisoner. Witnesses were examined as to the facts which have been already detailed; and other persons were produced, from whose testimony it appeared that the prisoner for some time before the murder had lodged in the house of a Mrs. Allen, who lived in Pocock’s-fields, near the cottage of the deceased. The most important facts proved against him were, that previous to the murder he had frequently declared to many of his companions that he was greatly in want of money, and that he had suggested to one of them, a pot-boy at the Duchess of Kent public-house in the Dover-road, that he knew an old man who had got money, for that he had seen him flashing about a 50l.note; that he knew where to put his hand upon it in the drawer where it was kept, and that it was “just like a gift” to him, and that he wished he could get “a right one” to assist him in the robbery. Other witnesses proved that he had expressed to them a desire to procure “a screw” and “a darkey” (meaning a picklock key and a dark lantern), to “serve” an old gentleman in a lonely cottage; and the concluding evidence was that of Mr. and Mrs. Allen, his landlord and landlady, as to his conduct on the night of the murder, and of some police-officers, who proved the discovery of some money in the rafters of the wash-house of Allen’s cottage, corresponding in its denominations with the silver which had been paid to Mr. Templeman by his lodgers at Somers Town.
Allen’s evidence was as follows:—“I live at Wilson’s Cottage, Pocock’s Fields, Islington. I know the cottage in which the deceased lived. I have known the prisoner about twelve months; he has lodged at my house several times, and he came to lodge there seven nights before this occurrence took place. I remember the 16th of March; and at that time, from circumstances that occurred, I am confident that he had no money. On that day the prisoner went out between eight and nine o’clock without having any breakfast. He had on a pair of shoes which I sold him, and they had nails in them. The prisoner wore them constantly. He returned home about three o’clock in the morning, and he immediately went into his room. My wife said to him, ‘Richard, is it early, or late?’ and he replied, ‘It is early.’ The prisoner got up between eight and nine o’clock the next morning, and came into my sitting-room, and passed through into the wash-house, which leads to the privy. He staid out from five-and-twenty minutes to half-an-hour, when he returned into the house and went out at the front door. I did not observe anything unusual in his appearance. The prisoner returned home about seven o’clock in the evening, and in the mean time I had heard of the murder of Mr. Templeman, and I told him of it. The prisoner said it was a shocking thing, and he asked me if I considered Mr. Templeman could have done it himself. I said, ‘Richard, how can a man bind his own hands and eyes?’ The prisoner then appeared agitated, and said his inside was out of order, and he went into the yard, and remained for a few minutes. My attention had been attracted to the prisoner having a new pair of shoes on, and I had a suspicion. I asked him about them, and he said that his cousin had given them to him. He then asked me to get him some bacon and beer for his supper, and I fetched it for him. He gave me a shilling to pay for it. I asked him where he had been so late on the night before. He said he had been at the Rainbow, and had stopped there until twelve o’clock at night, and when hecame out he met some friends, who detained him. Before this time I had a piece of wood in my possession, which was about a foot and a half long. The prisoner went to bed about nine o’clock, and I bolted him in and gave information to the police. He accounted to me for the possession of the money by saying that it had been given to him by his relations.
Mrs. Allen’s evidence was to the same effect; but she proved in addition, that a stocking in which the money was found concealed belonged to the prisoner.
The evidence otherwise was of a very general description, and although many expressions of a very suspicious character were attributed to the prisoner by the witnesses, none of them amounted to an admission by him of his guilt. The jury, after having received the customary charge from the learned Judge, returned a verdict of acquittal.
During the whole of the time occupied by this investigation, the avenues of the court, as well as the court itself, were crowded to excess by persons anxious to obtain early information as to its result. The verdict of the jury appeared to excite considerable dissatisfaction in the minds of many persons; and so great was the anger exhibited by a great portion of the populace, that the prisoner deemed it prudent to accept an offer of protection which was made to him by the sheriffs, and to remain in the Compter prison until the popular clamour should have in some degree subsided.
While there, a very great degree of commiseration appears to have been unjustly excited in his behalf. Mr. Alderman Pirie, a gentleman for whose humane feelings and intentions every one must give him the highest praise, offered to Gould that he should quit this country, and that he should proceed in a vessel of his own, on the point of sailing to Sydney, to that colony; and the wretched culprit, conscious of his guilt and of the dangerous position in which he stood, at once accepted the offer which was so liberally held out to him. A few days sufficed to show how far the humanity of the worthy alderman was misapplied. A man was committed to the Compter from the Mansion-house, upon a charge of stealing from his employers a quantity of tea, entrusted to him for delivery. His answer to the allegations made against him was unsatisfactory; and in the Compter he was imprisoned in the same ward in which Gould was suffered to remain. Upon his second examination he started a line of defence, which it was thought would afford him a moderate chance of escape. He imputed to two men, that they had met him in the street, and having given him a shilling to go on an errand for them, had run off with his tea. The men whom he pointed out were eventually taken into custody, and they proved to be two of the persons who had given evidence upon Gould’s trial, and whose false impeachment this fellow had basely procured for the purpose of revenging himself upon them for their having stated that which was undoubtedly true. The two men were fortunately able satisfactorily to prove that they were elsewhere at the time of the supposed robbery; and the other prisoner was conveyed to Newgate to await his trial.
In the mean time, Gould, exulting in what he then supposed to be the success of his scheme, had been removed on board the Elizabeth, the vessel in which he was to be conveyed to Sydney, and which lay at Gravesend. She was on the point of sailing, when the government, hitherto supine in its exertions to secure the discovery of the perpetrators of this most diabolical murder offered a reward of 200l.for their apprehension.An idea was entertained that for the reward Gould would disclose all he knew upon the subject, for that he knew something was obvious, and Otway, a police serjeant, was despatched to communicate with him upon the subject. A long conversation took place, in the course of which the reward was hinted at, and Gould expressed his willingness to open a communication, provided some portion of the booty sufficient to satisfy him for the loss of his passage were guaranteed to him; but on the next day, he was surprised at finding that he had again got into the custody of the police, a warrant having been executed upon him, in which he was charged with being a party to the robbery which had been committed in the house of Mr. Templeman, on the night of the murder.
He was carried to London loudly complaining of the breach of good faith on the part of serjeant Otway, and on being conveyed to Bow-street, he repeatedly expressed his willingness to disclose all he knew upon his being liberated. This condition, however, was refused to be acceded to, and in the hope of obtaining the reward, on the 11th of May he made a statement to the following effect.
He said, that “the robbery of Mr. Templeman’s house had been talked over for some time, by himself, Jarvis, and his wife, but it was not finally agreed upon until the morning before that on which it took place. He was then at Jarvis’ house but he did no remain long, as Jarvis expected his brother, but before he went away, Jarvis went into the garden and got a piece of wood used as a dibber, and bored a hole in the handle and passed a piece of string through it so as to hang it on his arm. He then went to the Rainbow public-house and got drunk and went to bed at his lodgings. He was to have gone to Jarvis’ on the next morning, but he lay in bed so late that Mrs. Jarvis came to fetch him. Jarvis had given her a message how it was to be done, and he (Gould) was not to go near the place until after the public-houses were closed. Mrs. Jarvis told him that she had prepared breakfast and that there was no fear of being noticed, but he went again to the Rainbow, and remained there until twelve o’clock at night. At that hour he went to Jarvis’ house, and in a few minutes they went to Mr. Templeman’s together, Mrs. Jarvis standing at the door of her own cottage to give an alarm in case of necessity. He (Gould) removed a piece of paper which was pasted over the window, and introducing his hand opened the door, and then he and Jarvis went in. He broke open a box which was in the sitting-room, and found some silver, and Jarvis went into the bed-room. Jarvis now suggested, that as the notes had not been found they must be under the old man’s head, and that they might quiet him and fasten him. They had brought a cord with them, and Jarvis directly struck the old man with the dibber. He jumped out of bed as if to resist their attack, but the blows being repeated he was overpowered and his hands tied. They then continued their search for the notes, and they were found in the drawer in the box from which they had taken the silver, but upon their looking at them they found that they were useless, for they were barbers’ notes upon ‘the bank of fashion.’ The deceased by this time had in some degree recovered, and exclaimed ‘I know you,’ upon which Jarvis declared, that he had rather finish him than be found out, and went into the bed-room. He (Gould) ran out of the house and was presently followed by Jarvis, and they went together to the house of the latter. Mrs. Jarvis was still standing on the look-out. He wanted todivide the money, but Jarvis said ‘No, you had better plant (conceal) it, for the cottages here will all be frisked (searched).’ He then took the dibber away and threw it into the New River, and he also threw the dark lantern which they had used into a pond in Pocock’s Fields. Before he went away he agreed to meet Mrs. Jarvis the next morning at the Three Goats’ Heads, Wandsworth-road, and when he quitted them he said that he would then show himself as quickly as he could. He went accordingly to a coffee-shop near the Angel, at Islington, and remained there for an hour and half, and when he returned home it was two o’clock. He went to bed, and on the next morning he placed all the money with the exception of 9s.in an old stocking, and put it where it had been found. He then proceeded to the Three Goats’ Heads, and soon after he was joined by Mrs. Jarvis, who had her child with her. They went to Lambeth together, and he bought a pair of boots for 7s.6d., and he sold his old ones in the New Cut. They subsequently went towards home, Mrs. Jarvis on quitting him desiring him not to go near her cottage that night, as there was a rare ‘stink’ about it.”
The villany and falsehood of this declaration, except as regarded his own guilt, was soon clearly proved, for on the very same day on which it was made it was contradicted by the prisoner, but while as regarded Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis it was distinctly shown to be false, the prisoner had told so much of the truth as to enable the police to trace out so many new proofs as to leave the most conclusive evidence against him.
He had already been acquitted of the murder, and it was impossible that he should be tried upon any fresh indictment upon that charge; but it still remained open to the friends of the deceased to prefer against him a charge of burglary, subjecting him to a penalty of transportation for life. The statement of facts with regard to the dark lantern, and the purchase of the pair of shoes made by the prisoner, was plainly corroborated by investigation; and while he had unsuccessfully endeavoured to procure the new implication of Jarvis in the murder, he had unwittingly afforded evidence that he had himself committed the burglary with which he now stood accused.
Upon this latter charge he was indicted at the sessions of the Central Criminal Court, on the 22nd of June, and the same evidence which had been before adduced having been again brought forward, together with proof of those additional facts admitted in his own confession, he was found “Guilty.”
Mr. Baron Parke, in addressing the prisoner, declared that there could be no possible doubt that he had been guilty of the murder of the unhappy deceased, and that he was justly brought to punishment. He sentenced him to be transported for life.
The prisoner, during his confinement in Newgate upon this new charge, made a most desperate attempt to escape, in company with a fellow-prisoner; but their schemes being discovered by the ever-watchful and most excellent governor of the jail, Mr. Cope, and frustrated, he became much impressed with the dreadful situation in which he had placed himself. At his trial he conducted himself with much firmness, cross-examining the witnesses with considerable tact—and subsequently addressing the jury and court upon the case, with boldness and effect; but upon his hearing the verdict of “Guilty,” which was returned, he lost his presence of mind, and became deeply agitated. During the period occupied by the learned judge in passing sentence, he recovered his self-possession, and atthe conclusion of the address, he skipped away from the bar with great alacrity.
The terms of his sentence of transportation were subsequently carried out; but the prisoner was not removed from this country without having made a fresh effort to secure his escape.
FORa considerable number of years scarcely any circumstance occurred in the metropolis which created a greater degree of consternation and interest than the tragical event which it now becomes our duty to record. At an early hour on the morning of Wednesday the 6th of May, 1840, Lord William Russell, an aged and most esteemed member of the illustrious house of Bedford, was discovered to have been barbarously murdered in his bed, at his house No. 14, Norfolk-street, Park-lane. The noble deceased was the posthumous child of Francis, Marquis of Tavistock, eldest son of the fourth Duke of Bedford, by Lady Elizabeth Keppel, daughter of the second Earl of Albemarle. He was the third and youngest brother of the two late Dukes of Bedford, and uncle of the existing duke, who was the seventh of the family who had succeeded to the title. He was uncle also to the noble and highly talented Lord John Russell, who at the time of this most melancholy catastrophe held the office of Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs. By his marriage with Lady Charlotte Villiers, eldest daughter of the fourth Earl of Jersey, his lordship had seven children, several of whom were still alive and were married into other noble families; but at the time of his death he was a widower, his wife having died in the year 1806. His lordship having been born in August, 1767, was consequently in the seventy-third year of his age.
Allied as the noble lord was to so many of the families of the nobility, the horrible event of his murder, it may be presumed, created the most extraordinary degree of alarm; and inquiries the most eager and the most scrutinizing were immediately set on foot, with a view to the discovery of the person by whose hand the dreadful deed had been committed. The result of the preliminary investigations which took place, tended to fix strong suspicion upon the valet of the unfortunate nobleman, François Benjamin Courvoisier, which, however, was so little supported by positive evidence, as to leave his guilt of the crime a matter of the greatest doubt, and it was not until the second day of his trial for the murder, that circumstances were discovered, in a manner, which appeared to denote the presence of the hand of the Almighty, by which his conviction was secured.
The first discovery of the murder, as we have already said, took place upon the morning of the 6th of May; but, in order to render what then took place more intelligible, we shall first describe the family of his lordship, and the proceedings of the day preceding this most diabolical outrage. Lord William Russell resided, attended only by his servants, at the house in Norfolk-street, Park-lane. At the age at which he hadarrived, it is not to be supposed that he was unaffected by indisposition or weakness; but although he suffered slightly from deafness and bodily infirmity, his health was sufficiently good to enable him to enjoy life with comparative comfort. His family consisted of two female servants; a housemaid, Sarah Mancer, and a cook, Mary Hannell, besides his valet, Courvoisier, and a coachman and groom, all of whom lived in the house, with the exception of the two latter individuals. The house was small, and consisted of only two rooms on a floor. On the basement story were the kitchen, and the usual offices, and a room used by Courvoisier as a pantry. On the ground floor were two parlours, used as dining-rooms; on the first floor were the drawing-room and library; on the second floor were the bed-room and dressing-room of his lordship; and in the story above were the sleeping apartments of the servants. His lordship was a member of Brookes’s Club, in St. James’s-street, and usually spent a considerable portion of the day there; but he generally dined at home, and then having passed several hours in reading, commonly retired to rest at about twelve o’clock. The valet had been in his lordship’s service during a period of five weeks only; and in the course of that time had been heard by his fellow servants to express himself in terms of dislike to his master, whom he described as testy and dissatisfied, and to declare that if he only had his money, he should soon return to Switzerland of which country he was a native. Upon the 5th of May, his lordship rose at nine o’clock, and breakfasted at the usual hour; and at about noon he went out, proposing to go to Brookes’s, in accordance with his usual habit. Before he quitted the house, however, he called his valet, and gave him several messages to deliver, amongst which was one to the coachman, to prepare his carriage and to be in readiness to take him home from his club at five o’clock. Upon Courvoisier going into the kitchen after this, he declared his fears that he should forget some of his errands; and in recounting them, he omitted that to the coachman. At half-past five his lordship returned home to dinner, in a cab, and showed some dissatisfaction at the neglect of his servant; but it does not appear that he exhibited any such anger as could well excite a feeling of hatred or ill will. Dinner was served at about seven o’clock; tea and coffee were subsequently handed to his lordship, and at about nine o’clock he retired to his library. At this time, the three house servants only were at home. Some other persons had called in the course of the day, but they had all left; and Courvoisier, Sarah Mancer, and Mary Hannell, only were in the house. Hannell had been out, but upon her return Courvoisier admitted her, and it was observed that he locked and chained the street door after her entrance. Supper was, at about ten o’clock, prepared in the kitchen, and some beer was fetched by Courvoisier; but he quitted the house, and returned by way of the area, and the gate and kitchen door were fastened by Hannell upon his re-admission. The means of access to the house, from the street, therefore, were closed, and the only entrance from the back, on the basement story, was through the pantry.
At about half-past ten, the women-servants went to bed, leaving Courvoisier to attend upon his master, and it was not until half-past twelve o’clock that his lordship rang his bell for him to assist him in retiring tohis apartment. It was the custom of his lordship to have his bed warmed, and it was the duty of the valet to perform this duty for him, and then to return the warming-pan to the kitchen. The bed appears to have been warmed as usual on this occasion; but as the subsequent events of this dreadful night remained in mystery until after the discovery of the murder and the conviction of its perpetrator, we shall abstain from describing them at present, in order that they may be laid before our readers in the words which Courvoisier himself employed in recounting them.
On the following morning, at about half-past six o’clock, Sarah Mancer, the housemaid, rose from her bed, and, having dressed herself, quitted her bed-room. As she passed the door of the prisoner’s room she knocked, in order to awake him, and then proceeded down-stairs. The first circumstance which she remarked was, that the warming-pan had been left at her master’s bed-room door, as if indicating that the valet had gone to rest immediately after having attended upon his master, without subsequently going below; but, upon her proceeding to the lower floors of the house, she found everything in such a state of confusion, as to excite a suspicion in her mind that thieves had entered the house with a view to the commission of a robbery. She hurried through the drawing-room, the parlour, and the passage on the ground-floor, and there she found the furniture strewed about, the drawers and boxes open, a bundle lying on the ground, as if ready packed up to be carried off, while the street-door had been unfastened, and was only upon the latch. A momentary examination of these matters was sufficient to excite alarm in her mind, and, hurrying up-stairs again, she repaired to the cook to inform her of what she had seen, by whose directions she at once proceeded to the apartment of the valet. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed since she had before knocked at his door, and half-an-hour was ordinarily occupied by him in dressing, but, to her surprise, she now found him dressed and ready to descend. Hastily informing him of what she had witnessed below, he accompanied her down stairs; and, upon his seeing the state in which the lower part of the house appeared to be, he exclaimed, “Oh, God! somebody has robbed us.” Mancer now suggested the propriety of their ascertaining whether anything had occurred to his lordship, and they went together to his bedroom.
Immediately upon their entrance, Courvoisier proceeded to the window to open the shutters, but Mancer, going to the bed-side, saw the pillow saturated with blood, and his lordship lying in bed, quite dead, with his throat frightfully cut. His face was covered with a towel or napkin, but upon this being removed, his countenance was found to be perfectly placid while the position of his body, undisturbed, and as if in a state of repose, betokened the suddenness with which the death-stroke had been inflicted. The woman suddenly screamed and ran out of the room, and, rushing from the house, she obtained the aid of some neighbours and of the police, by whom a surgeon was called in. Upon the entrance of these persons, Courvoisier, whose conduct throughout the whole transaction was of the most singular description, was found dreadfully agitated, leaning on the bed where the body of his master lay; and although questions were asked him, he made no answer, and took no part in the proceedings which succeeded. The death of the deceased nobleman was too evidently the result of violence from another hand to render a suggestion of suicide possible.One gash only had been given, which extended to the very back of the neck, and nearly severed the head from the body; and the absence of any instrument by which such an act could have been committed, at once negatived any supposition of that description.
In a few minutes Courvoisier appeared to recover from the agitation by which he had been affected, and at his suggestion an intimation of the dreadful occurrence was conveyed to the son of the deceased nobleman, who resided in Belgrave-square. Upon his going down-stairs, he immediately took Sarah Mancer into his pantry, and pointing to some marks of violence which were perceptible upon the door, which was open, remarked, “It was here they entered.”
The police now took possession of the house, and the mysterious nature of the transaction fully warranted them in the first step which they took—the detention of the three servants. A minute examination of the premises took place, the result of which was, a firm conviction on their minds that the murder had been perpetrated by an inmate of the house, and that a simulated robbery had been got up, for the purpose of raising a belief that the diabolical crime which had been committed was the act of a nocturnal plunderer and assassin. Upon the street door there were no marks of violence perceptible, while the indentations which were observable upon the door of the pantry had been so clearly produced from within, instead of from without, as to leave no doubt of the truth of their supposition. Their belief was further supported by the position of the back part of the house and the contiguous dwellings. It was so surrounded by buildings and high walls, as to render approach from that quarter next to impossible; and a minute examination of the neighbouring roofs of houses, &c., clearly negatived the suggestion that any person had obtained access to the house of Lord William Russell by clambering over any of them. In the house, the appearances were such as to indicate that the work had not been done by any practised housebreaker or marauder; and, furthermore, instruments were discovered, in the pantry poker, and a chisel which was found in the drawing room, and which had been known to be in the kitchen for some weeks before, which exactly corresponded with the marks in the pantry door, and which, as they could not have come into the possession of any stranger, must have been employed by some person having access to, and being well acquainted with, the premises.
The parcel which had been observed by the woman Mancer was examined, and was found to contain many articles of his lordship’s property. A cloth cloak, which had been hanging up in the hall, was found rolled up, and within it were his lordship’s gold opera-glass, his gold toothpick, a silver sugar-dredger, a pair of spectacles, a caddy spoon, and a thimble belonging to the cook; but it was remarked, that the latter articles were of a nature which a thief would rather have put into his pocket than have packed up in so large a parcel; and although the drawers of the sideboard in the parlour, and of the writing-desk in the drawing-room, were pulled open, nothing was found to have been extracted. In his lordship’s bedroom a state of things presented itself which tended to confirm the suspicions of the police, and to supply a motive for the crime. His lordship had been in possession of a case containing ivoryrouleauboxes, which are usually employed to contain gold coin. The boxes belonging to his lordship would hold about five hundred sovereigns, and it had been remarkedby Courvoisier, that although he was entrusted with the keys of his master’s drawers and trunks, his lordship would never permit him to go to this case. Upon examination by the police, therouleaucase was found to have been opened, and therouleauxhaving been searched, fruitlessly for money, they had been placed on one side. The jewel-box and the note-case of the deceased had also been opened, and while from the former several articles of small value had been taken, from the latter a 10l.note, known to have been in the possession of his lordship, had been carried off. A purse containing gold had also disappeared. The rushlight, which had been lighted by the valet, according to his own statement, when his lordship went to bed, was found to have been extinguished within about an hour and a half after it had been left; his lordship’s gold watch, together with its appendages, had been removed; and, furthermore, an attempt had been made to give an appearance to the room as if his lordship had been attacked while reading in bed. A book which his lordship was known to have been reading in the course of the evening, “The Life of Sir Samuel Romilly,” who, by a most remarkable circumstance, came to his death by cutting his throat, was lying by his bed-side, and near him was a wax-candle, burned down into the socket of the candlestick, but placed in such a situation as that it would have afforded no sufficient light to enable his lordship, in the position in which his body was found, to read one word by its light. These circumstances induced a strong suspicion against Courvoisier, and his boxes were searched, but without anything being discovered tending to fix upon him the guilt of the crime; but it was nevertheless thought advisable that he should remain in custody, or undersurveillance, until an examination of the drains of the house should have been made. For reasons of precaution, the women servants were also detained, and the most active exertions were made by the police to discover evidence which should lead to the discovery of the murderer. The commissioners of police, and several members of the nobility were indefatigable in their efforts to render assistance throughout the whole investigation, and through their instrumentality some discoveries were made.
On Friday, the 8th of May, it was thought that a more comprehensive search ought to be made through the house, and particularly in the pantry, and some most important disclosures took place. Some appearances were observed on the mortar and on the skirting-board of the room, which induced a police-officer to remove them. He examined the floor, the skirting, and the sink, and behind the skirting-board he found five gold rings, most undoubtedly the property of his lordship. In the same place were also found five pieces of gold coin and a piece of wax. Behind another part of the skirting was found a Waterloo medal, which was known to have been in the possession of his lordship, with a ribbon attached to it; and there was also found the 10l.note which has been mentioned before. The fact of the discovery of this note was a most important feature in this case. If it had been removed from the note-case, in which it had been placed, by any ordinary thief, it would undoubtedly have been carried off by him. Found as it was, however, concealed within the skirting-board of this pantry, it was taken as almost conclusive of the guilt of the valet, because no hand but his could have placed it in that position; for it is to be observed, that, from the moment of the discovery of the murder, he wasplaced under surveillance, and could not, therefore, have conveyed away anything from the house. A further search was subsequently made, and a split gold ring, on which his lordship kept his keys, and which had been attached to his watch by a ribbon, was found; and then, on the evening of the next day, a locket was taken from Courvoisier’s pocket.
The discovery of this small article was one to which very great attention was paid, and which formed a very singular feature in the case. Upon it being taken from the pocket of the valet, he claimed it as his own. It was well known amongst the family and domestics of the deceased nobleman, that he had always carried a locket about him, containing a small portion of the hair of his deceased lady. A short time before his murder, he had missed this relic, to which he attached great value, under circumstances of considerable mystery. He had been staying at Richmond, accompanied by no other servant but his valet, and during his sojourn there he occasionally went to Hampton, to visit his relative, Lady Sarah Bailey. In the course of a conversation which he had with her ladyship, he dropped the locket out of the case in which he usually kept it, and quitted her ladyship’s apartments, without having discovered his loss, to attend divine service at the chapel of Hampton Court. On his return the locket was presented to him, and he placed it in his pocket, but from that moment he never saw it again. It was missed, and the most diligent search was made for it, but in vain; and his lordship, grieved at his loss, eventually returned to London without having recovered this relic of his former affections. Upon the discovery of a locket in the possession of Courvoisier, a presumption was raised that it was that of his deceased master, with which it corresponded in every particular; but, in obedience to his repeated asseverations that it was his own, it was returned to him. On the next day, by a most remarkable accident, the same locket, of the identity of which now no doubt any longer remained, was found concealed in a small hole under the hearth-stone in the pantry, the room in which Courvoisier remained. Upon this the police thought fit to take him into custody, and he was conveyed away from the house; and, after he had been taken off, still further discoveries were made. On the 11th of May, a chased gold-key was discovered; and, on Wednesday the 13th, it was determined to examine the sink in the pantry. A part of the sink was covered with lead, and that portion having been removed in the course of the investigation, it occurred to the police-officer that there was something extraordinary in the appearance of the lead. He turned it up, and there he found the watch, which had been placed at the noble lord’s bed-head on the night of the murder, but which on the next morning was discovered to have been removed.
These were the material facts adduced in evidence against Courvoisier upon his various examinations before the magistrates; but strong as were the suspicions excited against him, it was felt that there was still good reason to believe that he would escape conviction. An experienced attorney, Mr. Flower, was engaged to conduct his defence; and so strong a feeling had been excited in his behalf, that a liberal subscription was raised among the foreign servants in London to defray the expenses of employing the necessary counsel to appear for him at his trial. Mr. Hobler, an attorney, was engaged on behalf of the prosecution; and at length, on Thursday, the 18th of June, the trial of the prisoner came on at theCentral Criminal Court, before Lord Chief Justice Tindal and Mr. Baron Parke.
The court was then crowded with persons whom curiosity had drawn together to procure a sight of the prisoner, and to hear the evidence adduced against him; and, amongst the noble and distinguished individuals present were, the Duke of Sussex, who remained during the whole of the day, and appeared to take great interest in the proceedings; the Countess of Charleville, Lady Burghersh, Lady Sondes, Lady A. Lennox, Lady Granville Somerset, Lady Julia Lockwood, Lady Bentinck; the Earls of Sheffield, Mansfield, Cavan, Clarendon, Lucan, and Louth; Lords Rivers, Gardner, and A. Lennox; M. Dedel, the Dutch ambassador; Marshal Saldanha, the Portuguese ambassador extraordinary; Sir Gilbert Heathcote, Sir Stratford Canning, Sir W. Montagu, Colonel Fox, Lord Frederick Gordon, Hon. Mr. Villiers, &c. As a proof that every part of the court was brought into requisition, it may be mentioned, that the prisoners’ dock was filled with chairs, every one of which was occupied.
Mr. Adolphus, Mr. Bodkin, and Mr. Chambers, appeared for the prosecution. The prisoner was defended by Mr. C. Phillips and Mr. Clarkson.
The prisoner, who was an alien, elected to be tried by a jury of Englishmen; and the indictment having been read, he pleaded “Not guilty.”
Evidence in proof of the circumstances which we have detailed was then produced, and the first day’s proceedings had closed, when the new and important testimony to which we have already referred, affording conclusive proof of the guilt of the prisoner, was discovered.
In the course of the inquiries which had been made subsequently to the murder, some articles of plate were found to have been removed from the house of his lordship; but, after the minute examination of the house which took place, there was good reason to believe that this portion of the transaction had occurred long before, and not after, the murder. All the efforts of the police to discover this stolen property had proved ineffectual; and although large rewards had been offered for its production, it was not until the evening of the first day’s trial that it was brought forward. An intimation was then conveyed to Mr. Hobler of the fact of its being in the possession of Madame Piolaine, the keeper of a French hotel in Leicester-place, Leicester-square; and upon its being inspected by persons who were competent to speak to its identity, they at once most positively proved that it was the same which had been formerly in the possession of his lordship. The circumstance of this most extraordinary discovery was directly notified to the prisoner’s attorney; and Courvoisier being by him consulted as to the truth of the allegations made, he at once admitted his guilt. At this stage of the proceedings, it was felt that such a confession placed the advocates who had been employed on his behalf in a condition of the greatest difficulty. For them to have thrown up their briefs would have been at once to admit the uselessness of any efforts to save their client from an ignominious death—a duty to the performance of which they had pledged themselves; and it was therefore determined that they should continue their defence of the prisoner, although the line of conduct which it became proper to pursue was necessarily much altered by the discovery which had been made to them. The instructions which they had originally received, went to the extent of calling upon them to endeavour to procurethe implication of the female servants of his lordship, and of the police, who were to be charged as their companions and associates in crime in the murder of Lord Russell, and in a conspiracy to secure the conviction and execution of the valet; but although the former portion of this defence was of course deemed fit to be withdrawn, a considerable degree of abuse was heaped upon the police by Mr. C. Phillips in his speech for the defence of the prisoner, in consequence of some improper conduct of which he alleged they had been guilty, tending to prejudice his case, and even going to the length of fabricating evidence to excite suspicion in the minds of the jury against him.
To proceed, however, to the new evidence which had been obtained, we shall, in order to make it more easily understood, lay it before our readers in the terms in which it was produced at the trial at the end of the second day’s proceedings.
After being sworn, Charlotte Piolaine deposed as follows:—“My husband keeps L’Hôtel de Dieppe, in Leicester-place, Leicester-square. I know the prisoner at the bar. I knew him about four years ago. He came to our hotel in the situation of waiter. I don’t recollect that he gave me his name, nor did I know it. We used to call him John in the hotel. French is generally spoken in our hotel; and we called him Jean. He lived with me as a servant for about a month or five weeks, not longer. I never saw him since that time till about six weeks ago. He came to me at the Hôtel de Dieppe on a Sunday morning. He merely asked me how I was, staid a short time, and went away. I did not recognise him when he first came. As it had been some time since I saw him, I could not recall his features to memory. He said, ‘Don’t you remember me? I am Jean, who lived with you some time ago.’ He staid but a few moments and went away. I asked him in the bar if he was in a situation, and he said ‘Yes;’ and I said, ‘I am very glad of it.’ I saw him again on the Sunday week or fortnight afterwards, I cannot remember which. He came in and asked me how I was. It was in the evening, and he had a parcel in his hand—a paper parcel. He asked me to take care of it till the Tuesday following, and he would call for it. I said ‘Certainly I would,’ and he left it and went away. I put up the parcel in a closet. I did not know at that time what the parcel contained. It was a sort of brown paper parcel, about eighteen inches long, and it was tied up and sealed. He did not call for it on the Tuesday following, and I never saw him since until to-day. I heard once or twice of the murder of Lord William Russell. The parcel had certainly been left with me before I heard of the murder, but I did not suppose it to be connected with that event. I took it out of the closet for the first time yesterday morning. I kept it at the bottom of the cupboard. I was induced to take it out in consequence of an account which my cousin read in a French newspaper, and showed to me. I communicated with my cousin, and with Mr. Gardine, for whom I sent. He lives in King-street, Soho, and is a chaser and modeller, and I sent also for Mr. Cumming. He is a solicitor, I believe, and is a very intimate friend of ours. My cousin Vincent is my husband’s partner in the hotel. The parcel was opened in the presence of these persons. It was never opened before from the moment it came into my possession. (Mr. Cumming, who was subsequently examined, here produced the parcel, which was about eighteen inches long by six wide.) That is the parcel, and that is thepaper that was on it. (The witness, by the direction of counsel, opened the parcel.) It contains spoons and forks of silver, two pairs of new stockings, a pair of gold auricles for assisting the hearing, a pair of dirty socks, and an old flannel waistcoat and a jacket. The jacket was wrapped round the other articles, and there is also some tow or yarn which would have the effect of preventing the plate from being felt or rattling. When we discovered these things, Mr. Cumming immediately put it up again, having first put in an inventory which he took down on paper, and which we all signed, and took it away. He brought it here, I believe.”
Louis Gardine: “I am a chaser and modeller, and live in King-street, Soho. I know M. Piolaine, who keeps the Hôtel de Dieppe in Leicester-place. I remember a man bringing a parcel to the hotel on a Sunday, but I do not recollect the exact time. I was only a visitor, and did not take much notice. The parcel was wrapped up in brown paper. I do not know the man who brought it, and had not, to my knowledge, ever seen him before. I cannot identify the prisoner as the man. I was fetched by Mr. Vincent yesterday about some news that was in the paper, and I went to the hotel. We went directly to Mr. Cumming in the city. We found him there, and he came back with us to the hotel. A parcel was then produced, and Mr. Cumming cut the string and opened it, and it was found to contain some silver and some other articles; and a list was made out of its contents.”
Mr. Richard Cumming: “I am a solicitor, and carry on business in the Old Jewry. In consequence of a communication I received from Gardine and Joseph Vincent yesterday, I went with them to M. Piolaine’s, in Leicester-place; and a brown paper parcel was produced. I was consulted as to the propriety of opening it, and it was ultimately opened by me. I made out a list of the articles, which I now have, and fastened the parcel up again. Before doing so I observed the crest on the spoons, and proceeded to Ridgway’s, the booksellers, where I learned that the crest, a goat, was that of the Bedford family. I immediately proceeded to Marlborough-street police-office, to seek the magistrates’ advice and to be relieved of the possession of the parcel. I had an interview with the clerk to the magistrates, and in consequence of what transpired, I came down to the Old Bailey in a cab. I arrived here about six o’clock, and sent in a note to the solicitors for the prosecution, Mr. Wing and Mr. Hobler, to whom I made a communication. The paper brought in some time ago contains a portion of the contents of the brown paper parcel, but having placed my initials upon it and the articles, I gave up the brown paper and the remaining contents to an officer by direction of Mr. Hobler. The paper produced is the covering of the parcel, and the articles I produced were contained in it. On the back of the cover there has been an address, which is nearly erased. Besides the spoons and forks there was some ear apparatus, made of gold, in a box. I produce the list signed by myself and the other parties. The articles consisted of four silver table-spoons, four silver dessert-spoons, two silver tea-spoons, four silver forks, one leather box containing two instruments for the ears, two pairs of white stockings, with no mark on them, one pair of white socks, each marked C 4, one flannel jacket, another jacket which I have called a flannel jacket, and a small quantity of tow or yarn.”