Chapter IX: Part II (1)
Impelled by motives which we own to be with difficulty effectively justifiable, and which we must resolve into an overmastering anxiety to behold how doomed human nature can confront terror-inspiring circumstances, felt sufficient to palsy one's own soul, we found ourselves, on Sunday morning, the 5th of July 1840, in the front seat of the stranger's gallery in the Chapel of Newgate, in order to hear the condemned sermon preached to Benjamin Courvoisier, and witness the demeanour of one who was to be publicly strangled on the ensuing morning, and in the ensuing evening buried within the precincts of the prison. Callous must he have been who could witness the scene of that morning without being profoundly affected. It was the house of God; and yet, (with reverence be the allusion made,) in one sense, alas! a _den of thieves_--of outcasts from society; whose laws they had, or were charged with having, disregarded and openly violated. Some were there under the pressure of violent suspicion--amounting to a moral, soon to pass into a legal, certainty--of various kinds and degrees of guilt: others bore the blighting brand of established crime, and were suffering, or about to suffer, its penalty. With what feelings would they enter the house of Him who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity--to Whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from Whom no secrets are hid! Would any of that guilty throng take their places there, brutally ignorant, indifferent, reckless, or desperate? Would their polluted souls be swelling with ill-suppressed feelings of impiety and blasphemy? Would any approach with broken and contrite spirits, having been shaken, by the stern hand of offended human law alone, out of a life's lethargy and insensibility? How would the holy accents of warning, of expostulation, of mercy, of dread denunciation, sound in the ears of those who were presently to fill that dismal chapel--dismal, only from its locality, and the character of its occupants? With what feelings would _one_ enter--the death-doomed--for whom, and for whom alone, was reserved that solitary, central, ominous black bench? who was so terribly far advanced in his passage from a human tribunal to that of the dread Eternal!--on whose brow already faintly glistened the dread twilight between here and hereafter,--the black night of time breaking before the dawning of an eternal day!
They come! Yonder gallery, curtained off, is filling with the female prisoners; no sounds audible but their rustling dresses, and perhaps a half-choked sigh or sob. It is well, poor souls! that you are hidden from the public gaze--from the rude eye of your male comrades in crime! _They_ are now entering below, silent and orderly, the eye of the governor upon them, as they are led by burly turnkeys and inspectors to their appropriate places, classed as untried and convicted--the latter according to their respective kinds and degree of punishment. All, at length, are seated. What an assemblage! Almost all clad in prison costume; many with sullen, determined countenances--others with harassed features and downcast look--one or two exhibiting unequivocally an air of insolent and reckless defiance--but all conscious of the stern surveillance under which they sate. Alas, _those boys!_ some already, others about to be, condemned--all gazing, terror-struck, at the black seat in the centre!
The chaplain enters the desk immediately under the pulpit, which, attached to the blank wall, faces the communion-table. _He_, also, casts an ominous glance at the black bench before him, in the centre of the floor, to which all faces are directed, amidst moody and troubled silence. At length a door on the left is heard being unbolted; a turnkey enters, followed by the great criminal--one whose name was ringing in the ears of the public--one on whom every eye is instantly fixed with sickening intensity. It is Courvoisier--the monster who, a few weeks before, had barbarously murdered his sleeping lord!--He was led to his seat, a glass of water being placed near him, in case of his faintness, and on one side of him sate a turnkey. Courvoisier knelt down; and then, a prayer-book having been given him, (which he held in an untrembling hand,) took his seat, not far from the reading-desk, covering his eyes for a few moments with his left hand. His demeanour was signally calm and self-possessed, and his motions were deliberate. He was a man about twenty-four years of age. His countenance wore such an expression of pensive good-nature and docility, as rendered it a consolatory reflection that he had unequivocally and spontaneously confessed the fiendish act of which the law had pronounced him guilty, and for which, under holy sanctions, it was on the morrow to take away his life.[3] Yes--there he sate, where we had seen sitting, also, his blood-stained predecessor Greenacre; and, moreover, Fauntleroy the forger; also a young banker's clerk--a widowed mother's sole support, her only child--for forging a trifling check. Alas, alas! how he wept during the whole service!--but how calmly he behaved the next morning on the gallows!
After gazing long and earnestly on the central figure in the gloomy picture, our eyes were casually attracted by a very different one,--that of a youth sitting on the steps of the altar, as though he had been a privileged spectator. We regarded him as a friend of some subordinate functionary of the gaol. He seemed a silly, vulgar, little dandy, who had put on his very best clothes for the occasion. He looked about eighteen or nineteen years old, and was of slender figure, and a little under the average height. His hair was full and curly--displayed in a very affected style. He wore a sort of second-hand blue surtout with velvet collar, a black satin stock, a light figured waistcoat, and light slate-coloured trousers--the latter a trifle too short, and strained down by a pair of elongated straps, so as to reach as nearly as possible to the brightly-polished boots. Beside him was a hat, of which he seemed very careful, and smoothed it round delicately, once or twice, with his hand. His eyes were quick, and inquisitive; and he seemed to share the interest with which others contemplated Courvoisier. Several times, during the service, his fingers passed jauntily through his hair, as if to dispose it effectively round his temples. A prayer-book was handed to him, to which he seemed tolerably attentive; but during the sermon he was evidently more occupied with his dress than the exciting and instructive topics of the chaplain--frequently pulling off and putting on his gloves, and arranging different portions of his dress, as though he feared they did not sit upon him sufficiently becomingly. When, however, the chaplain addressed himself personally, and with fearful solemnity, to the murderer before him, the young occupant of the altar-steps was roused into attention, and he listened a few minutes--his eyes fixed now on the preacher, then on the condemned. When the service was over, Courvoisier (whose demeanour had been throughout most satisfactory--solemn, composed, and reverent) was beckoned out to the door through which he had entered, and he obeyed, walking with complete self-possession.--We had looked our last on him!--"Do you see that young fellow on the altar-steps?--do you know who he is?" said a gentleman who approached us for the purpose. "No; he seems a vulgar little puppy," we exclaimed, "whoever he may be." "It is Oxford, who shot at the Queen, and is to be tried this week!" was the reply; and while we turned round to gaze at him, he was in the act of quitting the chapel, holding his hat very carefully, and gazing towards the gallery with an expression of cheerful inquisitiveness. Had it occurred to him that, in all human probability, a week or two would behold _him_ an occupant of the black bench just quitted by the murderer?
Yes! that was Edward Oxford, the little caitiff, first of a small and ignominious series of similar ones, who had, on the preceding 9th of June, twice deliberately fired at his young Queen, as she was driving, in fancied security, with her consort, up Constitution Hill, and on each occasion apparently with ball! The following was his own free-and-easy account of the matter, on being examined before the Privy Council:--
"A great many witnesses against me. Some say I shot with my left,
others with my right. They vary as to the distance. After I had
fired the first pistol, Prince Albert got up, as if he would jump
out of the coach, and sate down again, as if he thought better of
it. Then I fired the second pistol. This is all I shall say at
present."
(Signed) "EDWARD OXFORD."
In the case of this young miscreant, (for it is difficult to speak of him temperately,) however, was, within four days' time, to be resolved a problem of unspeakable difficulty and moment, by such means as the law of the country could command,--viz., responsibility or irresponsibility for criminal acts, according to the state of mind existing at the time of committing them. It is needless to affirm that this is a question of public, permanent, universal interest; one in which every individual, young or old, _may_ become personally concerned; one which no humane jurist, practical or speculative, can approach without lively anxiety; one worthy of frequent and deep consideration by every one concerned in the administration of criminal justice. To punish an individual utterly unconscious of the difference between right and wrong at the time of committing the alleged crime, shocks one's sense of natural justice, and confounds all the principles on which it can be administered by man. How can we hang a maniac who, in a paroxysm of madness, kills the keeper who was endeavouring to soothe or to restrain him? Or one who shoots another whom, under the veritable and sole influence of delusion, he believed to be in the act of killing _him_, and that he was therefore acting solely in self-defence? These are plain cases, as stated; but still they require, of course, very clear proof of the facts from which the law is to deduce a perfect irresponsibility for his acts. The subject is one environed with immense practical difficulties, which are often unexpectedly visible in applying apparently clear and correct principles to simple combinations of fact. The most sagacious judges, the most conscientious juries, have grievously miscarried in such cases; some sending persons to the scaffold under circumstances far weaker than those held by others demonstrative of irresponsibility, and, consequently, demanding an acquittal. Many painful and dreadful cases might be cited; but two shall suffice. In the year 1837, an industrious, affectionate, poverty-stricken father strangled his four children, avowedly to prevent their being turned into the streets. They all slept in one room. Having strangled two, he left the room; but, after meditating for some time, came to the conclusion that he might as well be hanged for killing all four; on which he returned, and strangled the other two--having shaken hands with them before he did it! He then quitted the house, and went to a neighbour's, to whom he did not mention what he had done; but on being apprehended the next day, and taken before the coroner, he confessed the above facts. No witness had ever observed a trace of insanity about him. The physician to a lunatic asylum offered to prove that the prisoner's grandmother and sister had been under his care, the latter for entertaining a desire to destroy herself and her children--evidence which the judge rejected; and under his direction the jury convicted, and he passed sentence of death on the prisoner.[4] In the year 1845, a young servant girl, quiet and docile, having taken a knife from the kitchen, on some trivial pretence, went up to the room where her master's child lay, and killed it. She then went downstairs, and told the horrifying fact to her master. She was quite conscious of the crime she had committed, and showed much anxiety to know whether she would be hanged or transported. There was not the slightest tittle of evidence that she had been labouring under any delusion; yet she was acquitted on the ground of insanity![5] Can anything be more grievously unsatisfactory than such a state of things as this, in the administration of the criminal justice of the country? One of the causes which conduced to such results was the too ready deference paid to speculative medical men, professing to have made disordered intellects their peculiar study, and who came forward, from time to time, confidently and authoritatively pronouncing that such and such circumstances indicated unequivocally the existence of "insanity," of "moral insanity," at the time of the act committed. Nay, they would sit in court, listening to a detail of facts, from which they would then enter the witness-box, and authoritatively declare their opinion that, if such were the facts, the prisoner was _insane_, and therefore irresponsible, when the act in question was committed! Many held that the mere absence of assignable motive indicated such insanity! and many, that the mere committal of the particular act should be so regarded! Notions more dangerous and monstrous cannot be conceived. Well might the late Mr. Baron Gurney declare, "that the defence of insanity had lately grown to a fearful height, and the security of the public required that it should be watched."[6] There are two Trials contained in Mr Townsend's first volume, which afford memorable illustrations of the difficulty with which these questions are encountered in our courts of justice. They are those of Oxford, for shooting at the Queen, and of M'Naughten for the murder of Mr Drummond, the private secretary of the late Sir Robert Peel. In both cases there were acquittals, on the alleged ground of insanity; and we take leave to intimate that, in our opinion, there should have been convictions in both. The escape of the cold-blooded murderer, M'Naughten, who deliberately shot his unsuspecting victim in the back, horrified and disgusted the public. "It had not been anticipated," says Mr Townsend, "and created a deep feeling in the public mind, that there was some unaccountable defect in our criminal law. People of good sense appeared panic-stricken, by this new danger, from venturing into the London streets; and called upon the legislature to discover some preservative against the attacks of insane passengers in public thoroughfares."[7] Indignation was loudly expressed in Parliament. In the House of Commons, an honourable Irish baronet moved for leave to bring in a bill to abolish the plea of insanity in cases of murder, except where it could be proved that the person accused was publicly known and reputed to be a maniac; and he asked the House to suspend the standing orders to accelerate the progress of his bill. His motion, however, found no seconder. A similar casualty had befallen Mr Windham, in 1800, who, in the course of a debate which ensued in bringing in a bill to meet such cases as that of Hadfield, (who had just been acquitted, on the ground of insanity, from the charge of firing at George III.,) suggested that an offender, _even if insane_, should be subjected to some sort of punishment, for the sake of example! On the same evening in which the attempt of Sir Valentine Blake was made in the House of Commons, the matter was discussed anxiously in the House of Lords, by Lords Lyndhurst, Brougham, Cottenham, Campbell, and Denman. Lord Campbell expressed the general feeling of the House, when he said--"There may be great difficulty in convicting persons who are not in a state of mind to be responsible for their actions; but it is monstrous to think that society should be exposed to the dreadful dangers to which it is at present liable, from persons in that state of mind going at large."[8] At length, on the suggestion of the Lord Chancellor, (Lord Lyndhurst,) it was agreed that the judges should be called upon to declare the true state of the criminal law on this momentous subject; and five questions were carefully framed for that purpose, and submitted to them for grave consideration. The following are these questions and answers--both of which, as containing a solemn and authoritative enunciation of the law of the land, we shall present to our readers, whom we request to give them a careful perusal, before proceeding to read what we have to offer on the two trials above alluded to. We are the more anxious that they should do so, because of the recent very remarkable case of Pate, who struck her Majesty with a cane last summer; and whose case was dealt with in strict conformity with the rules which follow:--
QUESTION I.--"_What is the law_ respecting alleged crimes committed
by persons afflicted with insane delusion, in respect of one or
more particular subjects, or persons:--as for instance, where, at
the time of the commission of the alleged crime, the accused knew
he was acting contrary to law, but did the act complained of, with
a view, under the influence of insane delusion, of redressing or
revenging some supposed grievance or injury, or of producing some
public benefit?"
ANSWER.--"Assuming that your lordships' inquiries are confined
to those persons who labour under such partial delusions only,
and are not in other respects insane, we are of opinion, that,
notwithstanding the party did the act complained of with a view,
under the influence of insane delusion, of redressing or revenging
some supposed grievance or injury, or of producing some public
benefit, he is nevertheless punishable according to the nature of
the crime committed, if he knew, at the time of committing such
crime, that he was acting contrary to law; by which expression we
understand your Lordship to mean the law of the land."
QUESTIONS II. and III. (1.)--"What are the proper questions to be
submitted to the jury, when a person alleged to be afflicted with
insane delusion, respecting one or more particular subjects or
persons, is charged with the commission of a crime (murder, for
example) and insanity is set up as a defence?"
(2.) "In what terms ought the question to be left to the jury,
as to the prisoner's state of mind at the time when the act was
committed?"
ANSWERS.--"The jury ought to be told, in all cases, that _every
man is presumed_ to be sane, and to possess a sufficient degree
of reason to be responsible for his crimes, until the contrary be
proved to their satisfaction; and that, to establish a defence on
the ground of insanity, it must be clearly proved that, at the
time of the committing of the act, the party accused was labouring
under such a defect of reason, from disease of the mind, as not to
know the nature and quality of the act he was doing; or, if he did
know it, that he did not know he was doing what was wrong. The mode
of putting the latter part of the question to the jury, on these
occasions, has generally been whether the accused, at the time of
doing the act, knew the difference between right and wrong--which
mode, though rarely if ever leading to any mistake with the jury,
is not, as we conceive, so accurate when put generally and in
the abstract, as when put to the party's knowledge of right and
wrong with respect to the very act with which he is charged. If
the question were to be put as to the knowledge of the accused,
solely and exclusively with reference to the law of the land, it
might tend to confound the jury, by inducing them to believe that
an actual knowledge of the law of the land was essential in order
to lead to a conviction, whereas the law is administered upon the
principle that every one must be taken conclusively to know it,
without proof that he does know it. If the accused was conscious
that the act was one which he ought not to do, and if that act was
at the same time contrary to the law of the land, he is punishable;
and the usual course, therefore, has been to leave the question
to the jury--whether the party accused had a sufficient degree of
reason to know that he was doing an act that was wrong; and this
course, we think, is correct, accompanied with such observations
and explanations as the circumstances of each particular case may
require."
QUESTION IV.--"If a person, under an insane delusion as to the
existing facts, commits an offence in consequence thereof, is he
thereby excused?"
ANSWER.--"The answer must of course depend on the nature of the
delusion; but making the same assumption as we did before--that
he labours under such partial delusion only, and is not in other
respects insane--we think he must be considered in the same
situation, as to responsibility, as if the facts with respect to
which the delusion exists were real. For example--if, under the
influence of his delusion, he supposes another man to be in the act
of attempting to take away his life, and he kills that man, as he
supposes, in self-defence, he would be exempt from punishment. If
his delusion were that the deceased had inflicted a serious injury
to his character and fortune, and he killed him in revenge for such
supposed injury, he would be liable to punishment."
QUESTION V.--"Can a medical man, conversant with the disease of
insanity, who never saw the prisoner previously to the trial, but
who was present during the whole trial and the examination of
all the witnesses, he asked his opinion as to the state of the
prisoner's mind at the time of the commission of the alleged crime,
or his opinion whether the prisoner was conscious, at the time of
doing the act, that he was acting contrary to law, or whether he
was labouring under any and what delusion at the time?"
ANSWER.--"We think the medical man, under the circumstances
supposed, cannot in strictness be asked his opinion in the terms
above stated; because each of those questions involves the
determination of the truth of the facts deposed to, which it is for
the jury to decide; and the questions are not mere questions upon a
matter of science, in which case such evidence is admissible. But
where the facts are admitted, or not disputed, and the question
becomes substantially one of science only, it may be convenient to
allow the question to be put in that general form, though the same
cannot be insisted on as a matter of right."
Such being the authoritative enunciation of the law by its legitimate exponents, which superseded the necessity of legislative interference, it is right to observe that it has by no means satisfied the professors of medical jurisprudence, and the members of the medical profession. One of them, Mr Taylor, has observed,[9] that the law here appears to "look for a consciousness of right and wrong, and a knowledge of the consequences of the act." This legal test "is insufficient for the purpose intended: it cannot, in a large majority of cases, enable us to distinguish the insane homicide from the sane criminal.... A full consciousness of the illegality or wrongfulness of the act may exist in a man's mind, and yet he may be fairly acquitted on the ground of insanity.... There _are_ no certain legal or medical rules whereby homicidal mania may be detected. Each case must be determined by the circumstances attending it; but the true test for irresponsibility in these ambiguous cases appears to be, whether the individual, at the time of committing the act, had, or had not, _a sufficient power of control to_ govern his actions. If, from circumstances, it can be inferred that he had this power, he should be made responsible, and rendered liable to punishment. If, however, he was led to the perpetration of the act by an _uncontrollable_ impulse, whether accompanied by deliberation or not, then he is entitled to an acquittal as an irresponsible agent."[10] This doctrine is utterly repudiated, however, by our judges, as will appear from two very decisive instances. In directing the jury, in Pate's case, in July last, Mr Baron Alderson thus somewhat sarcastically disposed of the dangerous plea of "uncontrollable impulse."--"The law does not recognise such an impulse. If a person was aware that it was a wrong act he was about to commit, he was answerable for the consequences. _A man might say that he picked a pocket from some incontrollable impulse; and in that case the law would have an incontrollable impulse to punish him for it!_" Another acute and eminent judge, Baron Rolfe, on a recent occasion, in trying a boy aged twelve years, for deliberately and cunningly poisoning his aged grandfather, thus gravely dispelled this favourite delusion of the medical jurists.--"The witnesses called for the defence had described the prisoner as acting from 'uncontrollable impulse.' In my opinion, such evidence ought to be scanned by juries with very great jealousy and suspicion, _because it may tend to the perfect justification of every crime that may be committed_. What is the meaning of not being able to resist moral influence? Every crime is committed under an influence of such a description, and the object of the law is to compel persons to control these influences. If it be made an excuse for a person who has committed a crime, that he has been goaded to it by some impulse, which medical men may choose to say he could _not_ control, I must observe, that such a doctrine is fraught with very great danger to society." This stern and sound good sense prevailed; and the youthful murderer was convicted. We have been thus full and distinct in explaining the wholesome doctrine of our English law, because of its immense importance; and we desire it to be understood, far and wide, especially by the medical profession, that these fashionable but dangerous modern paradoxes, borrowed from Continental physicians, concerning _the co-existence of moral insanity_ with intellectual sanity, will not be tolerated in English courts of justice.
Let us now proceed to deal with the two remarkable cases of Oxford and M'Naughten--the former of whom was placed at the bar of the Old Bailey four days after the execution of Courvoisier.
It is unspeakably painful, and humiliating, and disgusting, to reflect that our Queen, who has always shown a disposition to intrust herself unreservedly among her subjects, should have been subjected to no fewer than five public outrages--the last of which inflicted actual injury on the royal person,--that of a lady, a young queen, ascending the throne of this mighty empire at the age of eighteen!--outrages in every instance perpetrated by despicable beings of the male sex, properly characterised by Mr Townsend as "crazed knaves, or imbecile monomaniacs." First came, on the 10th June 1840, Edward Oxford, aged nineteen; then, on the 30th May 1842, John Francis, aged twenty; then, on the 3d July 1842, John William Bean, a deformed stripling aged seventeen; then, on the 19th May 1849, William Hamilton; finally--God grant that the degraded series may never be increased!--on the 27th June 1850, Robert Pate--alas! a gentleman of birth and fortune, and who had recently borne her Majesty's commission!
We shall place our readers, briefly and distinctly, in possession of the state of the law applicable to wilfully injuring, or attempting to injure the royal person. Its progress is painfully interesting. The attempt to inflict, and the actual infliction of such injury, are of course high treason; both the trial and punishment being attended, till recently, with all the solemn formalities of high treason as explained in our last Number. This heinous offence comes under the first head of the statute of treason, (25 Edward III. c. 2,) viz., "When a man doth _compass or imagine_[11] the death of our Lord and King." By "compass and imagine" is signified the purpose or design of the mind or will, evidenced by an open or _overt_ act. On the 15th May 1800, James Hadfield fired a horse-pistol, loaded with two slugs, at King George III., as he was entering his box at Drury Lane Theatre.[12] He was tried for high treason in the Court of Queen's Bench, and defended by Mr Erskine with splendid eloquence.[13] He was acquitted on the ground of insanity, committed at once to Bedlam, and died there in January 1841, after forty years' incarceration. In the course of his defence, Mr Erskine made an observation which led to an immediate interposition of the legislature. In speaking of the state of the law which interposed protective delay in cases of high treason, Mr Erskine observed: "Where the intent charged affected _the political character_ of the sovereign, the delay, and all the other safeguards provided, were just and necessary; but a mere murderous attack on the King's person, not at all connected with his political character, seemed a case to be ranged and dealt with like a similar attack upon any private man."[14] On the 28th July in the same year, were passed statutes 39 and 40 Geo. III. c. 93, carrying out Mr Erskine's judicious suggestion, by enacting that, where the overt act of this head of treason should be the assassination of the King, or any direct attempt against his life or person, whereby his life might be endangered or his person suffer bodily harm, the _trial_ should be conducted in every respect like a simple trial for murder; but, on conviction, the sentence should be pronounced and carried into effect as in other cases of high treason. On the same day was passed another statute--also occasioned by the trial of Hadfield--that in all cases of trial for treason, murder, or felony, if evidence be given of the prisoner's insanity at the time of the commission of the offence, and he be acquitted, the jury shall be required to find specially whether he was insane at the time of committing the offence, and to declare whether they acquit on account of such insanity; and if they do, the court shall order the prisoner to be confined in strict and safe custody during his Majesty's pleasure. Under the former of these two wholesome statutes were tried Oxford and Francis, the latter being convicted of having fired a pistol against the Queen, loaded with powder and "certain other destructive materials and substances unknown;" on which sentence of death was pronounced by Chief-Justice Tindal, as in other cases of high treason. He sobbed piteously[15] on being convicted; but after two consultations of the Cabinet had been held on his case, his life was spared, in contemptuous clemency to the worthless offender, and in deference to the humane feelings of her Majesty, and he was transported for life. Within almost one month after this questionable act of mercy, her Majesty was subjected to a similar outrage--a pistol being presented towards her, by Bean, on Sunday, as she was going to the Chapel Royal. The pistol was cocked, and the click of the hammer against the pan was heard, but there was no explosion; and the pistol was loaded with only powder, wadding, and one or two minute fragments (about the size of ordinary shot) of pipe. He was tried for misdemeanour, and sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment in the penitentiary; Lord Abinger remarking, at the conclusion of the trial, that "whipping at the cart's tail should be the petty sentence in future." The public disgust and indignation demanded some more effectual remedy to be provided for such disgraceful cases, should any unhappily occur in future; and within a fortnight of Bean's conviction--viz. on the 16th July 1842--was passed statute 5 & 6 Vict. c. 51, entitled "An act for providing for the further security and protection of her Majesty's person;" and recites the expediency of extending the provisions of statute 39 & 40 Geo. III. c. 93, to "any attempt to injure in any manner whatsoever the person of the Queen," and of "making further provision by law for the protection and security of the person of the sovereign of these realms." It then proceeds to enact, that--
"If any one shall wilfully discharge or attempt to discharge, or
point, aim, or present, at or near to the person of the Queen,
any gun, pistol, or other description of firearms, or of other
arms whatever--whether the same shall or shall not contain any
explosive or destructive material; or discharge, or attempt to
discharge, any explosive substance or material near to the Queen's
person; or wilfully strike, or attempt to strike, or strike at the
Queen's person with any offensive weapon, or in any other manner
whatsoever; or wilfully throw or attempt to throw any substance,
matter, or thing whatsoever at or upon the Queen's person, with
intent to break the public peace, or whereby the public peace
may be endangered, or to alarm her Majesty; or if any person
shall, near to the Queen's person, wilfully produce or have any
gun, pistol, or other description of firearms, or other arms
whatsoever, or any explosive, destructive, or dangerous matter
or thing whatsoever, with intent to use the same to injure the
Queen's person or alarm her Majesty, the offender shall be guilty
of a high misdemeanour, and liable at the discretion of the Court
to be transported for seven years, or imprisoned with or without
hard labour for any period not exceeding three years; and during
such imprisonment to be publicly or privately whipped, as often and
in such manner and form as the Court shall direct, not exceeding
thrice."
This salutary statute (proposed by the late Sir Robert Peel) was passed unanimously; Lord John Russell justly remarking, that "as the offence to be punished was that of bad and degraded beings, a base and degrading punishment was most fitly applied to it." Her Majesty enjoyed a seven years' respite from the insufferable annoyance to which she had been subjected--viz., till the 19th May 1849--when, about four o'clock in the afternoon, as she was driving in an open carriage with three of her children, a pistol was fired in the direction of the carriage by "one William Hamilton, an Irish bricklayer." The pistol was fired point-blank at the person of General Wemyss, one of her equerries, who happened to be in the line of her Majesty's person. This stolid wretch was tried on the 14th June ensuing, under the above statute, when he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to be transported for seven years. Again, on the 12th of July last, it was rendered lamentably necessary to call this statute into operation, and with the like effect as in the preceding case: but we shall reserve our observations upon the case of Pate till after we have completed what we have to offer on those of Oxford and M'Naughten. We have just returned from an examination of those two notorious persons in Bethlehem Hospital, and shall by and by convey to the reader the result of our own careful observations, made since the earlier portions of this article were committed to the press.
OXFORD'S CASE.
The judges who presided at the trial--which took place at the Old Bailey, and lasted three days, (the 9th, 10th, and 11th July 1840)--were Lord Denman, Baron Alderson, and Justice Maule. The counsel for the crown were--the Attorney and Solicitor Generals, (Sir John Campbell and Sir Thomas Wilde), Sir Frederick Pollock, the present Mr Justice Wightman, Mr Adolphus, and Mr Gurney; those for the prisoner were the late Mr Sydney Taylor and Mr Bodkin. The indictment contained two counts--respectively applicable, in precisely the same terms, to the two acts of firing--charging that Oxford, "as a false traitor, maliciously and traitorously did compass, imagine, and intend to put our lady the Queen to death; and, to fulfil and bring into effect his treason and treasonable compassing, did shoot off and discharge a certain pistol loaded with gunpowder and a bullet, and thereby _made a direct attempt against the life of our said lady the Queen_,"--in the words of statute 39 and 40 Geo. III., c. 93, § 1. The trial, as already observed, differed in no respect from an ordinary trial for felony; and neither the Crown nor the prisoner challenged a single juryman. "Oxford," says Mr Townsend, "stepped into the dock with a jaunty air, and a flickering smile on his countenance; glanced at the galleries, as if to ascertain whether he had a large concourse of spectators; and, leaning with his elbow on the ledge of the dock, commenced playing with the herbs[16] which were placed there before him. He kept his gaze earnestly fixed on the Attorney-general during the whole of his address, twirling the rue about in his fingers, and became more subdued in manner towards the close of the speech."[17] The facts constituting the outrage lie in a nutshell: The prisoner was seized instantly after having discharged two pistols, as the Queen and the Prince-consort were driving up Constitution Hill, in a low open carriage. He had been observed, for some time before the approach of the royal carriage, walking backwards and forewards with his arms folded under his breast. As the carriage approached, he turned round, nodded, drew a pistol from his breast, and discharged it at the carriage, when it was nearly opposite to him. As it advanced, after looking round to see if he were observed, he took out a second pistol, directed it across the other to her Majesty, who, seeing it, stooped down; and he fired a second time--very deliberately--at only about six or seven yards' distance. The witnesses spoke to hearing distinctly a sharp whizzing sound "close past their own ears." The prisoner, on seeing the person who had snatched from him the pistols mistaken for the person who had fired, said, "It was me--I did it. I give myself up--I will go quietly." At the police-office he said, "Is the Queen hurt?" Some one observed, "I wonder whether there was any ball in the pistol?" on which the prisoner said, "If the ball had come in contact with your head, if it were between the carriage, you would have known it." The witness who spoke to these words appears, however, to have somewhat hesitated when pressed in cross-examination; but he finally adhered to his statement that the prisoner declared there were balls in the pistols. A few days previously he had purchased the pistols for two sovereigns, about fifty percussion-caps, a powder-flask, which, with a bullet-mould and five bullets fitting the pistols, were found at his lodgings. He had also been practising firing at a target, and, on purchasing the pistols, particularly asked how far they could carry. The Earl of Uxbridge deposed that, when he saw Oxford in his cell, he asked, "Is the Queen hurt?" on which Lord Uxbridge said, "How dare you ask such a question?" Oxford then stated that "he had been shooting a great deal lately--he was a very good shot with a pistol, but a better shot with a rifle." "You have now fulfilled your engagement," said the Earl. "No," replied Oxford, "I have not." "You have, sir," rejoined Lord Uxbridge, "as far as the attempt goes." To that he was silent. The most rigid search was made to discover any bullets; but in vain. Two witnesses, gentlemen of rank, and well acquainted with the use of firearms, spoke confidently to having seen bullet-marks on the wall, in the direction in which Oxford had fired; but the Attorney-general expressed his opinion that the evidence was entitled to no weight, as probably mistaken; declaring himself, however, positive that there must have been balls in the pistols, but that the pistols had been elevated so high that the balls went over the garden-wall. One of the witnesses said to the other, immediately after seizing Oxford, "Look out--I dare say he has some friends;" to which he replied, "You are right--I have." At his lodgings were found some curious papers, in Oxford's handwriting, purporting to be the rules of a secret club or society called Young England; the first of which was, "that every member shall be provided with a brace of pistols, a sword, a rifle, and a dagger--the two latter to be kept at the committee-room." A list of members-_factitives_' [sic] names were given. "Marks of distinction: Council, a large white cockade; President, a black bow; General, three red bows; Captain, _two red bows_; Lieutenant, one red bow." There were also found in Oxford's trunk a sword and scabbard, and a black crape cap with _two red_ bows--one of the "rules" requiring every member to be armed with a brace of loaded pistols, and to be provided with a black crape cap to cover his face, with his marks of distinction outside. Three letters were also found in his pocket-book, addressed to himself at three different residences, purporting to be signed by "A. W. Smith, _secretary_," and to contain statements of what had taken place, or was to take place, at the secret meetings of the society. They were all headed "Young England," and dated respectively "16th May 1839," "14th Nov. 1839," and "3d April 1840." Oxford said he had intended to destroy these papers in the morning, before he went out, but had forgotten it. All these papers--the "rules" and letters--were sworn by Oxford's mother to be _in his own handwriting_; and it should have been mentioned that there was not a tittle of evidence adduced to show that there were, in fact, any such society in existence, or any such persons as these papers would have indicated; nor, up to the present moment, has there been the least reason for believing that such was the case.
Thus closed the case for the Crown, undoubtedly a very formidable one. No attempt was made by the prisoner's counsel--who appear to have conducted the defence temperately and judiciously--to alter by evidence the position of the proved facts; which, therefore, were allowed to stand before the jury as almost conclusively establishing the case of high treason. Mr Taylor, however, strongly impaired the Attorney-general's notion that there had been in the pistols balls, which had gone over the wall; because his own witnesses had spoken decisively to the bullet-marks on the wall; yet no flattened balls had been produced, after all the search that had been made. Mr Taylor, therefore, inferred that the pistols had contained powder only: "a great outrage, unquestionably, but still not the _treason_ charged." There was, again, he contended, there could have been, no _motive_ for killing the Queen; and the idea of the Treasonable Society was mere moonshine--a pure invention concocted by a lunatic--one who had inherited insanity, and himself exhibited the proofs of its existence: for Mr Taylor undertook to prove the insanity of Oxford's grandfather, his father, and himself. The proof broke down as far as concerned the grandfather, a sailor in the navy; for it was clear that his alleged violent eccentricities had been exhibited when he was under the influence of liquor. The insanity of Oxford's father was sought to be established by his widow, the mother of the prisoner. If her story, "told with unfaltering voice and unshaken nerve," were correct, her husband had undoubtedly been a very violent and brutal fellow, with a dash of madness in his composition. It is possible that the mother, in her anxiety to save her son from a traitor's death on the scaffold, had, by a _quasi pia fraus_, too highly coloured her deceased husband's conduct. If this were not so, she had indeed been an object of the utmost sympathy. He forced her to marry him, she said, by furious threats of self-destruction if she did not: he burnt a great roll of banknotes to ashes in her presence, because she had refused, or hesitated, to become his wife. He used to terrify her, during her pregnancies, by hideous grimaces, and apish tricks and gesticulations: the results being that her second child was born, and within three years' time died, an idiot. Her husband pursued the same course during her pregnancy with the prisoner, and presented a gun at her head. The prisoner had always been a headstrong, wayward, mischievous, eccentric youth--subject to fits of involuntary laughing and crying. He was absurdly vain, boastful, and ambitious; and wished his mother to send him to sea, where he would have nothing to do but walk about the deck, give orders, and by and by become Admiral Sir Edward Oxford! This was the utmost extent of the _facts_ alleged in support of the defence of insanity. The prisoner's whole life had been traced--in evidence--while he was at school, and in three distinct services; and he had never been confined, or in any way treated as mad. His sister spoke to his going out on the day of the outrage, and detailed a conversation evincing no symptoms of wandering. He used to have books from the library--"The Black Pirate," "Oliver Twist," and "Jack Sheppard." On leaving home that day, about three o'clock in the afternoon, he told his sister that he was going to the Shooting Gallery to buy some linen for her to make him some shirts, and to bring home some tea from a particular shop in the Strand. A nur-sery-maid to whom he had written a ludicrously-addressed letter a few weeks before, said, "I considered him in a sound state of mind, but sometimes very eccentric:" than which, no words were fitter to characterise the true scope and tendency of all the evidence which had been offered to prove him insane. Of that evidence, according to the genius and spirit, and also the letter of English law, twelve intelligent jurymen were the proper judges, under judicial guidance; and greatly to be deprecated is any attempt to deprive them of their right, and their fellow-subjects--the public at large--of the protection afforded by its unfettered exercise.
We therefore earnestly beg the reader to assume that he is given credit for an average degree of intelligence, and only a moderate amount of moral firmness--to imagine himself a juryman, charged with the solution of this critical problem. We ask--On the facts now laid before you, do you believe Oxford to have been no more conscious of, or accountable for, his actions, in twice deliberately firing at the Queen, than would have been a baby accidentally pulling the trigger of a loaded pistol, and shooting its fond incautious mother or affectionate attendant?
If Oxford, instead of shooting at the Queen, had shot himself that afternoon: would you, being sworn "to give a just and true verdict _according to the evidence_," have pronounced him insane--totally unconscious and irresponsible? Would you have declared him such, if required to say _ay_ or _no_ to that question on a commission of lunacy? Would you have declared his marriage, on that afternoon, null and void, on the ground of his insanity? Would you have declared his will void? or any contract, great or small, which he had entered into? Would you have declared his vote, in a municipal or parliamentary election, invalid? If he had committed some act of petty pilfering or cheating, would you have deliberately absolved him from guilt on the ground of insanity? Would you, in each and every one of these cases, have declared, upon your oath, that you believed Oxford was "_labouring under such a defect of reason, from disease of the mind, as not to know the nature and quality of the act he was doing,--or, if he did know it, that he did not know he was doing wrong_?"[18] We entreat you to forget altogether the enormity of the offence imputed to Oxford--an attempt to take the life of his Queen: dismiss it, and all consideration of consequences, as a disturbing force, and address your reason exclusively to the question last proposed. What would be your sworn answer? We beg you also to bear in mind from whom has proceeded the chief evidence in support of the defence of insanity--a mother, seeking to rescue her son from the fearful death of a traitor; and that the attempt to impugn his mental sanity is not made till after such a terrible occasion has arisen for doing so. Had it been their interest to establish _his sanity_, in order to uphold a will of his bequeathing them a large sum of money, who sees not how all their evidences of insanity would have melted into thin air, and the attempt to magnify and distort petty eccentricities into such, have been branded as cruel, unjust, and disgraceful?
But there came five doctors on the scene, and at their approach the light of reason was darkened. These astute personages--mysterious in their means of knowledge, and confident in their powers of extinguishing the common sense of both judges and jury--came to demonstrate that the unfortunate young gentleman at the bar was no more the object of punishment than the unconscious baby aforesaid; no more aware of the nature and consequences of the act which he had done than is the torch with which a haystack is fired, or the bullet, cannonball, or dagger with which life is taken away! But let them speak for themselves--these wise men of Gotham--these confident disciples of the "_couldn't help it_" school!
FIRST DOCTOR.--_Question_ by the prisoner's counsel and the
Court--"Supposing a person, in the middle of the day, without any
suggested motive, to fire a loaded pistol at her Majesty, passing
along the road in a carriage; to remain on the spot; to declare
he was the person who did it; to take pains to have that known;
and afterwards to enter freely into discussion, and answer any
questions put to him on the subject: would you, from those facts
alone, judge a person to be insane?"
_Answer._--"I should."
THE COURT.--"You mean to say, upon your oath, that if you heard
these facts stated, you should conclude that the person would be
mad?"
THE DOCTOR.--"I do."
THE COURT.--"Without making any other inquiry?"
THE DOCTOR.--"Yes!... If, as a physician, I was employed to
ascertain whether a person in whom I found these facts was sane or
insane, I should undoubtedly give my opinion that he was insane."
THE COURT.--"As a physician, you think every crime, plainly
committed, to be committed by a madman?"
THE DOCTOR.--"Nothing of the kind; but a crime committed under all
the circumstances of the hypothesis!"
As to the hypothesis proposed, the reader will not have failed to observe how inapplicable it was to the proved facts. Oxford certainly "remained on the spot" because he could not possibly have got away; there being a high wall on one side, high park railings on the other, and an infuriate crowd, as well as the Queen's attendants, on all sides. He also certainly "declared he was the person who did it;" but how absurd to deny what so many had witnessed?
SECOND DOCTOR.--He is asked the same question which had been
proposed to the first Doctor, with the addition of "hereditary
insanity being in the family" of the person concerned.
_Answer._--"I should consider these circumstances of strong
suspicion; but other facts should be sought before one could be
warranted in giving a positive opinion."
_Question_ by the Prisoner's Counsel.--"Are there instances on
record of persons becoming suddenly insane, whose conduct has been
previously only eccentric?"
_Answer._--"Certainly. Supposing, in addition, that there was
previous delusion, my opinion would be that he is unsound. Such a
form of insanity exists, and is recognised."
_Question_ by the Counsel for the Crown.--"What form of insanity do
you call it?"
_Answer._--"Lesion of the will--insanity connected with the
development of the will. It means more than a loss of control over
the conduct--morbid propensity. Moral irregularity is the result of
that disease. Committing a crime without any _apparent_ motive is
an indication of insanity!" ...
_Question_ by the Court.--"Do you conceive that this is really a
_medical_ question at all, which has been put to you?"
_Answer._--"I do: I think medical men have more means of forming an
opinion on that subject than other persons."
_Question._--"Why could not _any_ person form an opinion, from the
circumstances which have been referred to, whether a person was
sane or insane?"
_Answer._--"Because it seems to require a careful comparison of
particular cases, more likely to be looked to by medical men, who
are especially experienced in cases of unsoundness of mind."
THIRD DOCTOR.--"I have 850 patients under my care in a lunatic
asylum. I have seen and conversed with the prisoner. In my opinion
he is of unsound mind. I never saw him in private more than once,
and that for perhaps half-an-hour, the day before yesterday; and
I have been in court the whole of yesterday and this morning.
These are the notes of my interview with him:--'A deficient
understanding; shape of the anterior part of the head, that which
is generally seen when there has been some disease of the brain
in early life. An occasional appearance of acuteness, but a
total inability to reason. Singular insensibility as regards the
affections. Apparent incapacity to comprehend moral obligations--to
distinguish right from wrong. Absolute insensibility to the
heinousness of his offence, and the peril of his situation. Total
indifference to the issue of the trial; acquittal will give him
no particular pleasure, and he seems unable to comprehend the
alternative of his condemnation and execution: his offence, like
that of other imbeciles who set fire to buildings, &c., without
motive, except a vague pleasure in mischief. Appears unable to
conceive anything of future responsibility.'"
_Question_ by the Court.--"Did you try to ascertain _whether he was
acting a part_ with you, or not?"
_Answer._--"I tried to ascertain it as well as I possibly could. My
judgment is formed on all the circumstances together."
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 68, No. 421, November 1850Chapter IX: Part II (1)
0%37 min left in chapter