Chapter XXXVIII: Part 38

His career was, however, drawing to a close, and information having reached the officers that Liverpool was to be favoured by his presence, they were soon on the look out for him in that city. Early in the month of April 1813, he was found to have entered Liverpool, and inquiries being made, he was traced to the house of an old woman named Mary Howes, _alias_ Taylor, in the Scotland Road there. The Limbricks in consequence proceeded thither, when their entrance was opposed by the old woman; but some force being applied, the door was opened, and they proceeded directly to the cellar. They there found White and a man named Haywood, evidently prepared to make a desperate resistance, but the officers being equally resolute, after a violent conflict, in the course of which a pistol was fired by one of the constables, the thieves were secured. Upon the house being searched a great variety of house-breaking implements was found, concealed under a flag in the cellar, and Mrs. Howes was also taken into custody.

At the ensuing summer assizes at Northampton, White, Kendall, and the woman Mary Howes, were indicted for the robbery of the Leeds mail; and it was proved that on the evening on which the robbery was effected, the two first-named prisoners were seen on the road in a gig near Higham Ferrers, and subsequently on the same night at the house of Mrs. Howes, who then lived very near. It was also shown that no other gig but that in which the prisoners rode passed through the turnpike on that evening, and the prisoners were afterwards seen together, and were traced to London, where White offered to negotiate some of the bills and notes, the produce of the robbery, with one Richardson, who had been before this time convicted of robbing the house of the Marchioness of Downshire.

Forty witnesses were examined on this trial, which lasted fourteen hours; and such was the interest produced, that the court was crowded to excess. The judge having charged the jury, they retired, and soon afterwards returned, finding White and Kendall guilty, but they acquitted the woman, in accordance with the direction of the Court; it appearing that her offence did not take place in the county in which she was arraigned.

The night preceding the execution of these convicts, White attempted to make his escape, and had succeeded so far as to cut off his irons, and break through several doors; but he was stopped at the outward gate, and reconducted to his cell. At nine o'clock, August the 13th, 1813, the procession approached the place of execution at Northampton. Kendall appeared deeply impressed with a sense of the awful fate that awaited him; but uniformly persisted in declaring his innocence, and said that he fell a victim in consequence of his having had the misfortune to be in company with his fellow-sufferer on the night of the robbery. He declared, on the gallows, that he was a murdered man, and appealed to the populace, in a speech of some length, in which he endeavoured to convince them of his perfect innocence.

White's deportment was such as to exhibit his extreme carelessness of life. Hardihood never forsook him, and he more than once found fault with the manner in which the chaplain performed his duty. From the time of his conviction he disregarded the gallows; and, being humanely asked by a clergyman if he could administer any sort of comfort to him, answered, "Only by getting some other man to be hanged for me." He declared Kendall innocent a few minutes before they were launched into eternity.

PHILIP NICHOLSON

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The case of this unfortunate wretch is one of a peculiarly distressing character, presenting a crime of a most fearful nature, committed without the most remote cause of provocation, and apparently also without motive.

It appears that the malefactor was a footman in the employment of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, an aged and respectable couple, who resided at a mansion called Camden Place, situated in the village of Chiselhurst, in Kent. The establishment consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, two female domestics, who slept in an apartment at the rear of the house, a groom and coachman, who slept in a room over the stable, and the wretched man Nicholson, who had his bed in the hall, and who was the only man-servant who slept in the house.

On the night of Sunday, the 30th of May, 1813, Mr. Bonar retired to rest, at his usual hour, twelve o'clock, and his lady followed at about two o'clock, having been undressed in the ante-room to the bed-room by her maid.

During the night no noise or disturbance of any kind was heard by the servants, and at half-past six o'clock in the morning one of the garden labourers called up Nicholson and remarked to him that the hall door and window-shutters were open, a circumstance of which he declared he was unaware. At seven o'clock the servant-women got up, and one of them on going into the ante-room of her mistress's bed-room observed foot-marks of blood plainly visible on the floor. In great agitation she communicated what she had seen to her fellow-servants, and on their all going up to ascertain the truth of what they had been told, they became alarmed lest murder had been committed, and determined to ascertain the truth of their surmises. Upon their entering Mr. Bonar's apartment, they found their master and mistress lying dead, the former on the floor, literally swimming with blood, while the latter lay on the bed, in a similar condition. A kitchen poker, the instrument with which the murders had evidently been committed, lay on the floor, and the state of the room exhibited the utmost confusion. Nicholson was amongst those who entered the room, and he was observed to be much agitated, and to be very active in moving the bed-clothes, by which, if by no other means, his own attire became stained with blood. One of the servant-women having swooned, he roused her, and told her to attend to her mistress, who still breathed, and upon examination this proved to be the case, and he directly insisted that he should go to town for a surgeon.

On the road he was seen to drink copiously of brandy, and a little after eight o'clock he arrived at the house of Mr. Astley Cooper, who instantly set off for Camden Place, in the hope of affording surgical assistance to the murdered lady. Nicholson went next to the Red Lion, near Bedlam, where he saw a man named Dale, who had been only a few weeks discharged for improper conduct from Mr. Bonar's service; and to whom he used this remarkable expression: "The deed is done, and you are suspected; but you are not in it." He then proceeded to the office at Bow-street, in a state of intoxication, to give information of the murder, and having mentioned his interview with Dale, that person was brought to the office; but he established a most satisfactory _alibi_, and was discharged. Three officers immediately set off for Chiselhurst, and Mr. Cooper arrived with all possible despatch at Camden Place, but was too late; the wound was mortal, and Mrs. Bonar expired at eleven minutes past one o'clock, having been through the whole previous time insensible, and having only once uttered the exclamation of "Oh dear!"

"We never witnessed," says one who saw it, "such a scene of horror as the bed-room presented. Almost the first object which met the eye on entering was the dead body of Mr. Bonar, with the head and hands steeped in blood: the skull was literally broken into fragments in two or three places; and there was a dreadful laceration across the nose, as if effected by the edge of a poker. His hands were mangled in several places, apparently by the same instrument: there was also a severe wound on the right knee. From the numerous wounds on the body of Mr. Bonar, the swollen state of his mouth, and the convulsive contraction of his hands and knees, it is clear that he had struggled with all his force against his horrid murderer. The most shocking circumstance connected with this spectacle was the appearance of the night-cap, which lay a few paces from the head, drenched in blood, with a lock of grey hair sticking to it, which seemed to have been struck from the skull by the violence of the blow of the poker. The pillows of his bed lay at his feet, completely dyed in blood. The manly athletic person of Mr. Bonar--for, though advanced in life, he seems to have been a powerful man--gave an increase of horror to this afflicting sight. The view of Mrs. Bonar, though equally distressing, excited more pity than terror: though her head had been fractured in a dreadful manner, yet there was a calm softness in her countenance, more resembling a healthy sleep than a violent death; it might have been supposed that her life had parted from her without one painful effort. The linen and pillow of the bed in which she lay were covered with blood, as was also the bed of Mr. Bonar. They slept in small separate beds, but placed so close together that there was scarce room for a person to pass between them. The interval of floor between the beds was almost a stream of blood. No slight additional horror arose from the contrast of the spacious handsome apartment in which this scene of death was exhibited. The most heart-moving spectacle yet remained. About seven o'clock in the evening, Mr. Bonar, jun., arrived from Faversham, where he was on duty as Colonel of the Kent local militia. In spite of the efforts of Mr. Angerstein, jun., and some other gentlemen, he rushed up stairs exclaiming, 'Let me see my father! indeed I must see him.' It was impossible to detain him: he burst into the bed-chamber, and immediately locked the door after him. Apprehensions were entertained for his safety, and the door was broken open, when he was seen kneeling with clasped hands over the body of his father. His friends bore him away, and hurried him, tottering and fainting, into an adjoining chamber."

The officers proceeded, immediately on their arrival, to investigate all the circumstances attending this horrid deed, and an examination of the house clearly exhibited the fact that no stranger had been guilty of the murder. They were at a loss to know on whom to fix their suspicions; when the discovery of a pair of shoes belonging to Nicholson, marked with blood, and which corresponded with the bloody footprints in the ante room, tended to produce a belief that he was the guilty man. He had not returned to his master's house since he had first quitted it in search of surgical aid; and Forrester, one of the City officers, was in consequence despatched in quest of him. After a lengthy and diligent inquiry, he was traced to Whitechapel, and he was there found drinking at the door of the Three Nuns Inn. He was immediately seized, and in spite of great resistance was conveyed in custody to Giltspur-street Compter; but he persisted in denying all knowledge of the murder. On the Tuesday he was sent down to Chiselhurst, where the coroner's inquest sat on the bodies of the unhappy deceased lady and gentleman, and the evidence being gone through before the coroner, Mr. Martyr, he was reading over the depositions of the several witnesses for their assent and signature, when an alarm was given that Nicholson had attempted his own life. He had been in custody of two officers, and requested leave to go into the yard, which was refused; but he was permitted to enter a water-closet in the passage leading to the servants' hall; while there he cut his throat with a razor, which, it appeared, he had concealed in the front of his breeches. The gash was so deep, and it bled so profusely, that it was supposed he could not live many minutes. The head seemed almost severed from his body. Two surgeons from Bromley being fortunately present, they took the necessary steps to prevent his death, and after a short time he was sufficiently recovered to speak; but he persisted in declaring his innocence.

In the course of the evening, the coroner's jury returned a verdict of "Wilful Murder against Philip Nicholson," and he was committed to the custody of proper officers. He was subsequently visited by many persons of distinction, whose attention was attracted by the horrible and atrocious nature of the murder; and on Monday the 7th June, in consequence of the annoyance and pain to which he was subjected, his wound began bleeding afresh. In a few minutes the hæmorrhage increased to a most alarming extent, and fears being entertained for his life, Mr. Astley Cooper was sent for. The wretched prisoner became alarmed, believing that he was at the point of death; and he, in consequence, sent for Mr. Bonar, junior, to whom he made an ample confession of his guilt, but assigned no reason for the commission of the diabolical act. In consequence of the statement he made the garden was searched, and concealed in a laurel bush was found his body linen deeply stained with blood, the neck and front of his shirt being much torn, in consequence, evidently, of the resistance made by the victims to his attack.

The wretched prisoner subsequently conducted himself more calmly than he had hitherto done; he declared his repentance for the attempt which he had committed upon his life, and, as much apprehension was entertained of his death, everything that could disturb him was studiously kept out of his way.

In consequence of the great care which was paid to him, he was at length pronounced out of danger, and was then committed to the house of correction, Coldbath-fields, where he remained until the 17th of August, on which day he was conveyed to Maidstone jail for trial.

On the 20th of the same month he was arraigned upon the indictment preferred against him, to which he pleaded not guilty. The case was fully made out against him; and the prisoner declared that he had only traversed the allegations in the indictment because he had been advised to do so by his friends. The jury therefore found him guilty, and he was immediately sentenced to death by Mr. Justice Heath in the usual form.

Immediately after the sentence, the prisoner put in a paper, and desired it to be read. The judge said that this was irregular, but looked at the paper, and told the jury that it contained a confession of crime, which was imputed to excessive drinking.

The paper which he put in and desired to be read was as follows:--

"I acknowledge with the deepest contrition the justice of the sentence unto death which has been just passed upon me. My crimes are, indeed, most heavy; I feel their weight, but I do not despair; nay, I humbly hope for mercy, through the infinite mercy of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who bled and died for me. In order to have a well-grounded hope in him, my all-merciful Redeemer, I know that it is my bounden duty not only to grieve from my heart for my dire offences, but also to do my utmost to make satisfaction for them. Yet, alas! what satisfaction can I make to the afflicted family of my master and mistress, whom without any provocation I so barbarously murdered? I can make none beyond the declaration of my guilt and horror of soul that I could perpetrate deeds so shocking to human nature, and so agonising to the feelings of that worthy family. I implore their forgiveness, for God's sake; and fully sensible of their great goodness, I do hope that, for His sake, they will forgive me. I freely give up my life as a just forfeit to my country, whose laws I have scandalously outraged. Departing this tribunal, I shall soon appear before another tribunal, where an eternal sentence will be passed upon me. With this dread sentence full in my view, I do most solemnly declare, and I desire this declaration to be taken as my dying words, that I alone was the base and cruel murderer of my master and mistress; that I had no accomplice; that no one knew or possibly could suspect that I intended to perpetrate those barbarities; that I myself had no intention of committing those horrid deeds, save for a short time, so short as scarcely to be computed, before I actually committed them; that booty was not the motive of my fatal cruelties; I am sure the idea of plunder never presented itself to my mind: I can attribute those unnatural murders to no other cause than, at the time of their commission, a temporary fury from excessive drinking; and before that time to the habitual forgetfulness, for many years, of the great God and his judgments, and the too natural consequence of such forgetfulness, the habitual yielding to the worst passions of corrupted nature; so that the evil that I was tempted to do, that I did: the Lord in his mercy has, nevertheless, spared until now my life--that life which I, in an agony of horror and despair, once most wickedly attempted to destroy: He has most graciously allowed me time for repentance; an humble and contrite heart must be His gift; that gift I hope He has granted to my most ardent supplications: in that hope, and bearing in mind His promise that an humble and contrite heart He will not despise, I, freely offering up to Him my sufferings, and my life itself, look forward, through his most precious blood, to the pardon of all my crimes, my manifold and most enormous crimes, and most humbly trust that the same mercy which He showed to the penitent thief who was crucified with him He will show to me: thus meekly confiding in thee, O Jesus! into thy hands I commend my spirit. Amen.

"PHILIP NICHOLSON.

"This 20th August, 1813."

The signature was in Nicholson's own hand-writing: the rest appeared written by another hand.

After sentence of death was passed, the wretched culprit was placed in the condemned cell, which in the Maidstone jail is underground. In this cell Mr. Bonar had an interview with him, at half-past five on Monday morning, 22nd August, the day fixed for his execution. On his approaching the cell, he found Nicholson on his knees at prayer.

At about twelve o'clock, the preparations for the removal of the prisoner being nearly completed, Mr. Bonar, accompanied by his brother, and Mr. Bramston, the Catholic clergyman, had another interview with the unfortunate man, soon after which, the hurdle or sledge, which was in the shape of a shallow box, about six feet by three, was drawn up to the jail door; at each end was a seat just capable of holding two persons. Nicholson, double ironed, was first placed in it, with his back to the horses; he was also pinioned with ropes, and round his shoulders was coiled the fatal cord; by his side sat the executioner; opposite to the prisoner the Rev. Mr. Bramston took his seat, and by his side sat one of the Maidstone jailors with a loaded blunderbuss. Everything being in readiness, the procession advanced at a very slow pace towards Pennenden Heath, which is distant from Maidstone nearly a mile and a half, on which was erected a temporary drop, which had a platform raised seven feet from the ground, and was large enough to contain about a dozen persons. A little before two o'clock the hurdle arrived, and stopped immediately under the gallows, when Mr. Bramston and Nicholson knelt down on it, and remained for a while in prayer. Some time previous to this, Mr. Bonar arrived on the ground in a post-chaise, and took his stand within twelve yards of the fatal spot, with the front windows full on the gallows, which he kept open during the whole time; but each of the side windows was closed by blinds. So anxious was Mr. Bonar to get from the unfortunate wretch his very dying words, as to whether he had either motive or accomplice, that a person was deputed to ascend the platform after the cord was round the prisoner's neck, and to ask him questions upon the subject of the murder. The wretched being repeatedly declared that he had no accomplice in the diabolical deed; and in answer to the last question put to him,--"Had you any antipathy to either your master or mistress before you committed the horrid murder?"--clasping his hands together as well as his close bonds would permit him, he answered, "As God is in heaven it was a momentary thought, as I have repeatedly declared before."

The above were the last words of this unhappy man; and in a few minutes after they were uttered, the bottom of the platform was let fall, and Nicholson was launched into eternity. He died unusually hard, being greatly convulsed. It appeared from the account he gave of himself, that he was a native of Ireland, and had been discharged from the thirteenth dragoons in consequence of a broken wrist. He subsequently lived three years with the city remembrancer, and had been only three weeks in the employ of his late master, Mr. Bonar. Among the servants at Camden Place he was looked upon as a man of harmless disposition and good nature, with no discernible failing but one, drunkenness, to which he was so greatly addicted, that he was seldom sober when he could procure any spirits.

The sensation which the murder produced throughout the country was amazing.

MICHAEL M'ILVENA.

EXECUTED FOR UNLAWFULLY PERFORMING THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY.

This villain was a native of Ireland; and in his migrations through the northern part of that kingdom, personated, successively, the characters of a Catholic priest, a Protestant minister, and a lawyer. The last place we find him in was the village of Ballinahinch, where he went under the appellation of The Counsellor. While here he became acquainted with a man of the name of Christopher Jennings, with whom he conspired to debauch a young girl, named Mary Hair.

This unsuspecting creature was only seventeen years of age, and had been a servant for a year and a half with a Mr. Knox of Drumanockan, near Dromore, and having spent the Christmas of 1812 with her parents, she was on her way back to her place, when she met her acquaintance Jennings on the road. He conducted her to a public-house to treat her, and there, as he had done before, made proposals of marriage to her. The poor girl had before looked upon him with a favouring eye, and she took him at his word, saying, that if he could find a priest, she would marry him at once. They in consequence went together to Ballinahinch, and Jennings took his bride into a public-house where M'Ilvena was sitting, and introduced him to her as the minister, who was to marry them. A little coyness was exhibited, and some mistrust was shown by the girl at her being married in a public-house; but her scruples having been overcome, the marriage was directed to be begun.

M'Ilvena, with assumed sanctity, pulled out his book, and went through what Mary thought were the proper forms, joining their hands, and interrogating the parties in the usual manner. After the ceremony, the poor girl asked for a certificate. This was at first refused; but as she insisted on it, the supposed parson took pen and ink, and wrote the following:--

"These are to certify, that Mary Hair is this day joined in marriage to Christopher Jennings, of Drumara. As given under my hand, this 26th December, 1812.--W. M'I."

This scrawl contented the deluded girl; and the parson then intimated that he was always paid for such duties. Mary gave him ten tenpennies; but he threw them down with an indignant air, exclaiming, "Am I to be college-bred and learned, and not receive my just dues?" But no more money was forthcoming, and the parson was obliged to put up with what he had got, contenting himself with wetting the bargain with a jug of punch. The unfortunate girl was then conducted to the house of an old woman named M'Kee, where her husband was admitted to all the marital rights; and on the next morning she was bid by him to give notice of the event to her master and mistress, and he undertook to break the business to her father and mother. The poor girl was parting from him with reluctance for this purpose, when he told her unblushingly that she was not his wife, and that she was deceived.

The unhappy girl was immediately awakened to all the misery of her situation; and she ran, in a state of distraction, to her parents, to whom she related all that had occurred. The necessary proceedings were immediately taken, and the _counsellor_ and Jennings were committed to prison. At the summer assizes for Downpatrick, August the 17th, 1813, they were brought up for trial. M'Ilvena was first indicted; and Mary Hair having deposed to the foregoing facts, she was cross-examined, with a view to affect her testimony, by endeavouring to make her acknowledge a former connexion with Jennings; a fact, however, which she indignantly denied.

M'Ilvena, in his defence, produced Jennings, who swore, first, that he had an intimate knowledge of the prosecutrix long before the time mentioned in the indictment; next, that she never represented herself as his wife; and that M'Ilvena never pretended to join their hands together, or otherwise unite them in marriage.

Jennings, having given his evidence, was ordered back into the dock from whence he had come, and M'Ilvena was found guilty; after which he was called on, in the usual form, to say why sentence of death should not be passed on him. He appeared quite unmoved, and said he was not guilty of the crime imputed to him. The judge then proceeded to pass sentence on him; which he did in a very impressive manner, though frequently interrupted by exclamations of innocence from the prisoner. The offence being made by a particular act of parliament a capital felony, he was sentenced to be hanged. He asked for a long day, which was humanely granted, and his execution was deferred to the 18th of September, on which day it took place, in the midst of a vast concourse of spectators.

The day after M'Ilvena's trial, Jennings was placed at the bar, on an indictment for conspiring to debauch Mary Hair. He was almost instantly found guilty; when the judge told him his crime was much enhanced by the attempt he had made to screen his accomplice from punishment, in which he had committed wilful and corrupt perjury. The sentence of the court was, that he should stand for an hour on the pillory, be imprisoned for one year, and pay a fine of fifty pounds.

JAMES MITCHELL.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The subject of this narrative was a native of Salisbury, and his first occupation was that of a ploughboy in the service of a farmer near his birthplace. Having afterwards removed to London, he obtained a situation as groom in a gentleman's family; and while so employed he became acquainted with Miss Welchman, whose life he subsequently took away.

Miss Welchman was a ladies' dressmaker, and lived as forewoman with Miss Macey, who carried on that business in Mount Street. She was an elegant young woman, about four-and-twenty years of age, and of a most amiable disposition. To her, in an evil hour, Mitchell paid his addresses, under the name of Smith, and represented himself as purser on board some ship. The credulous girl believed him worthy and honourable, and permitted him to visit her, at the house of her employer, where he was, for some time, treated with politeness and friendship. At length his own conduct betrayed the deception he had practised. He obtruded himself at improper hours, and more than once offended the young ladies in the work-room by the coarseness and indelicacy of his conversation. This coming to the knowledge of Miss Welchman's brother, he prevailed, with some difficulty, on his sister to forego the acquaintance of her lover.

In accordance with this advice, Miss Welchman had several interviews on the subject with Mitchell; but notwithstanding her desire that he would not again visit her, he persisted in annoying her. On Friday the 5th of August, 1814, he called at Mount Street, and was ushered into the work-room, where Miss Welchman was sitting. He continued there during the whole evening, notwithstanding the repeated requests made to him that he would leave; and, as it grew late, he desired Miss Welchman to provide supper for him, and subsequently to lend him money. Both requests were refused, and eventually at eleven o'clock Miss Macey and her work-people went away to supper, Mitchell being now left alone. Miss Welchman, however, returned to him, saying that she desired to be alone with him for about five minutes; but she had scarcely entered the room when a loud scream was heard, immediately followed by the report of pistols. Her companions immediately rushed into the apartment, and found Miss Welchman a lifeless corpse on the floor, a pair of pistols lying by her side, which on inspection bore evident marks of being the instruments with which the murder had been perpetrated. The hat of Mitchell was also discovered; but the window was open, and it was found that the assassin had escaped by descending into the street, by that means.

On examination, it was found that Miss Welchman had been shot in the head; one bullet had entered her temple, and the other had been resisted by the substance of the forehead.

The murderer, in the mean time, had succeeded in making his escape, and the officers of justice were despatched in pursuit of him, but without effect; for, as he had been for a length of time out of place, a clue to his last residence was not easily found. At length word was brought to town that he was in custody at his native place, Salisbury, to which he had bent his steps, and where he had been recognised by his old master the farmer, who, having heard of the murder, immediately had him scoured.

On the 13th of August he was brought up to Bow Street, in the custody of Taunton the officer, where he underwent an examination, after which he was fully committed to Newgate. He appeared very little affected at his situation, and preserved a sullen silence.

On Friday, September the 16th, he was arraigned at the Old Bailey for the murder of Miss Welchman. The evidence was circumstantial, but conclusive; and, when called on for his defence, he denied the crime with which he was charged, and said that it was not proved the pistols and hat were his. He called no witnesses, and the jury having been charged, retired for a few minutes, and returned with a verdict of Guilty.

The Recorder, after silence had been proclaimed, pronounced the dreadful sentence of the law, which was heard by the prisoner without the slightest emotion.

He was executed on the 19th September with a man named Hollings, who had been convicted of a similar offence in the murder of his step-daughter, to whom he had formed an attachment, notwithstanding his having married her mother; and whom he murdered in the street, at the door of her master, Mr. Cartwright, in Lower Grosvenor Street, because she had refused to accede to his disgusting and lustful propositions.

So great was the public curiosity to see the unfortunate malefactors, that at seven o'clock on the morning of the execution, the Old Bailey and Giltspur Street were crowded to a degree almost unprecedented. Much money was given for indifferent seats at the top of the houses opposite the Debtors' Door; and carts, waggons, and other vehicles were put in requisition. At a quarter before eight the prisoners were introduced to the Press-yard, for the purpose of having their irons knocked off, accompanied by the Reverend Mr. Cotton and the Reverend Mr. Frere, the latter of whom sat up in constant prayer all the night with Hollings, who joined most fervently in the devotion. Mitchell, who was dressed in black, was first brought out from the cell; he looked pale, and maintained a deportment of sullen resignation; he did not say a word, nor did he betray the slightest symptoms of feeling at his awful situation. The irons being knocked off and the usual ceremony of tying the hands being executed, he lifted his hand as far as he was permitted, and looking up, bowed, and appeared to be in prayer. Hollings stepped forward to the block with great activity. He was, however, very tranquil; and upon being disencumbered of his irons, he addressed the persons around him in nearly the following words: "Here, you see, I stand a victim to passion and barbarity: my crime is great, and I acknowledge the justice of my sentence. But, oh! the unfortunate girl I loved, I adored as one of my own. I have made contrition, and prayed for forgiveness; I resign myself under an impression that Almighty God has heard my prayers, and will forgive me: may you and the world take warning by my example; and here I confess the justice of my fate--receive my soul, O God!" At the last expression his feelings overcame him, and he wept.

The whole of the awful arrangements being complete, the prisoners were ushered to the fatal scaffold. Mitchell was until this time firm and unconcerned; but he now became much agitated, and the horrors of death were strongly portrayed in his countenance. Hollings shook hands with the officers of justice, declared to Mr. Frere that he was quite happy, and mounted the scaffold with great firmness and resignation. The clergymen continued to pray to them until the fatal signal was given, when the drop fell. Mitchell continued in the strongest convulsions for several minutes, and appeared to die very hard.

After they had hung some time, three females were introduced, for the application of the "dead man's hand," supposed to remove marks, wens, &c. The first was a young woman of interesting appearance, who was so much affected by the ceremony that she was obliged to be supported.

At nine the bodies were cut down, and sent to St. Bartholomew's Hospital for dissection.

MAJOR J. G. SEMPLE, _alias_ LISLE.

CONVICTED OF SWINDLING.

The case of this offender has obtained considerable notoriety, from the circumstance of his conviction having been disputed, and from the decision upon it having therefore became a precedent often quoted in our courts of law.

Semple, it appears, was born in Scotland in 1759, of a respectable family; and in the year 1775, at the age of sixteen years, he entered the army, and went to America. In the following year he was taken prisoner of war, but was soon after released, and retired from service with a pension for wounds.

He subsequently entered the army of Frederic the Great of Prussia; but in 1779 he again returned to England, and then married an English lady of great respectability, whom he met at Harwich. During a visit to France a short time afterwards, he became acquainted with the Duchess of Kingston, _alias_ the Countess of Bristol, (whose case we have already given,) whom he accompanied on her visit to Russia, and having there consented to join the Russian service, he was appointed captain in the Imperial Army by Prince Potemkin. During his employment in this capacity, his conduct was such as to gain for him many honours; but in the year 1784, being dissatisfied with his position, he retired to Copenhagen, from whence he eventually returned to England, and there misfortune fell upon him in its worst form.

On the 1st of September 1785, very soon therefore after his arrival in this country, he was indicted for feloniously stealing a post-chaise, value 50_l_., the property of John Lycett, a coachmaker in Whitechapel; and upon the trial, it appeared that he had hired the post-chaise fora limited period, as he alleged to support the character which he was entitled to maintain, but that it was never returned. The defence set up was that the transaction could only be looked upon in the nature of a civil contract, and that the chaise having been regularly ordered and sent home, no charge could be brought against the prisoner except that arising on the sale of the carriage, and that he could only be held to be indebted for its value. Upon argument, however, the court held that there had been a felonious dealing with the carriage, and the prisoner was found guilty and sentenced to be transported for seven years. He was conveyed to Woolwich on his way to a penal settlement, but he was eventually pardoned on condition of his going abroad.

From Woolwich therefore he went to France; and there he became acquainted with Beruyer, Péthion, Roland, and several of the leaders of the day. He was present at the trial of Louis XVI., and shortly after resolved on returning to England, in consequence of the rupture with this country, which he then saw was inevitable. He therefore obtained a passport; he was denounced to the committee of public safety as a spy, who was going to join the enemy; but being secretly apprised of what was going forward, he was able to effect his escape, although with some difficulty, before the order for his arrest was issued.

On his escape he joined the allied army against France, and distinguished himself on various occasions, but particularly in the battle of St. Fronde, which lasted three days; and at the time of the retirement of the King of Prussia from this campaign, he found himself incapacitated from service, and almost destitute of the means of existence. After a short retirement, however, he had recovered sufficiently to remove to Augsburgh; and on his arrival at that place he was suddenly arrested by order of the Baron d'Ompteda, in the name of his Britannic majesty; but his imprisonment not being legal, he was shortly afterwards set at liberty.

Considering he had been ill used on the Continent, Semple again returned to England; and in 1795 we again find him at the bar of the Old Bailey, on a charge of stealing in the shop of Mr. Wattleworth, in Wigmore Street, one yard of muslin, two yards of calico, and one linen shirt.

It was proved that the prisoner came into the shop of Mr. Wattleworth, about noon, on the 10th of November 1794, and, showing two patterns, one of muslin, and the other of calico, said he wanted them matched for Mrs. Coningham, of Egham Green. They could not find an exact match in the shop to the muslin; but he chose one; and a yard being cut off, together with two yards of calico, he said he would give them to the lady's servant, then at the door; and, calling in a man, he gave them to him. He then said that he had just arrived from the Continent, and should want a quantity of shirts, and wished to take one with him to consult his sister, who, he thought, would be a better judge of the linen than he was; that he would bring it back in the morning, and then give his order. He called his sister Mrs. Coningham; and as Mr. Wattleworth had a customer of that name, he made no hesitation, but gave him the shirt under those conditions. This happened in November; but the prosecutor never saw the prisoner again until January, when he was in custody in Bow Street.

The counsel for the prisoner contended that the charge of the felony was not made out, the evidence, if true, amounting only to that of obtaining goods under false pretences. Mr. Justice Buller, who tried the cause, admitted the counsel was perfectly right as to the calico and muslin; but he did not agree with him in respect to the shirt, and therefore left that question to the jury.

The prisoner, in his defence, entered into a history of his past life with a view of showing, that although he had been before convicted, his general course of conduct was not that of living by fraud; but the jury found him guilty of stealing the shirt, and he was once more sentenced to seven years' transportation.

Notwithstanding his notoriety, (for there were many other charges against him,) many persons, amongst whom were Burke and Boswell, interested themselves in his behalf; but after remaining about two years in Newgate in a state of uncertainty as to his future destiny, he was at length removed to Portsmouth, and from thence proceeded to New South Wales. On the passage a mutiny broke out on board the transport in which he sailed; and Semple being one of the ringleaders, he, with twenty-eight others, was sent adrift in an open boat. He had contrived to conceal a quantity of gold in some soap, and succeeded in carrying it off with him; and after a dangerous passage, he and his companions landed in safety at Fort St. Pedro, in the province of Rio Grande. They were received with great hospitality by the governor of the Fort; and Semple was introduced by his fellows as a Dutch officer and passenger, a tale of shipwreck being trumped up; but a quarrel arising among them, their real character was subsequently exposed. After remaining during a considerable time at Brazils, in the year 1798 he went to Lisbon; but there he was arrested by an order of the British minister, and sent to Gibraltar, and while there, being suspected of being a party to a conspiracy which was discovered, he was again arrested and sent to Tangier.

In December 1798, a despatch arrived from England, ordering him home in custody; and he was accordingly sent on board a ship, and arrived at Portsmouth the following April. He was immediately conveyed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, where he remained till he was again sent out of the country.

From this period nothing particular occurred in the major's life until his return from Botany Bay in 1810, when he resorted to his former evil practices; but as he became more notorious he became less successful, until at length he was reduced to the utmost distress, and had recourse to the basest means of supporting a miserable existence.

In 1814 he went into a cheesemonger's shop in Devonshire Street, Queen Square, and ordered a small quantity of bacon and butter to be sent to No. 42, Cross Street. He met the messenger at the door, and taking the articles from him, sent him back for six-pennyworth of eggs. When the boy returned, he knocked at the door, and was informed that the person he inquired for did not live there, and that they knew nothing about him. This was true, for the major had only made a feint of going in to deceive the boy, and had made off when the lad was out of sight.

For this offence he was apprehended, and brought to trial at the Middlesex Sessions, December the 3rd, 1814, and found guilty, when, for the third time, sentence of transportation for seven years was passed on him.

WILLIAM SAWYER.

EXECUTED FOR A MURDER IN PORTUGAL.

The circumstances of this very singular case may be shortly stated as follows:--The prisoner was engaged in the commissariat department of the British army; and in the month of February 1814, he went out to Portugal, where he lived in the same house in the Campo Mayor, at Lisbon, with a friend, Mr. Riccord, who had a female, named Harriet Gaskett, under his protection. An attachment grew up between this unfortunate woman and Sawyer, who, however, had a wife at the time in England; and his attentions were so apparent, that they excited the jealousy of his brother officer, and he appears to have remonstrated with his friend and mistress, which occasioned much infelicity.

On the 27th of April they met at dinner, with two or three other officers; but such was the agitation of their feelings, that Riccord, Harriet, and Sawyer ate nothing. The latter appeared greatly dejected, and, as well as Harriet, withdrew as soon as possible.

In the evening the party heard the report of three pistol-shots; and, on going into the garden, Harriet and Sawyer were found both lying on the ground. Harriet was quite dead, but Sawyer had not been mortally wounded. On his being removed into the house, he was left in the care of a brother officer, while the others went in search of a physician; and during their absence he contrived to get a razor, with which he cut his throat in a dreadful manner, but not mortally.

Next day the officers met, and reduced the facts to writing; and the prisoner signed the document, as well as a paper in the following terms:

"Having laid violent hands upon myself, in consequence of the death of Harriet, I think it but justice to mankind and the world, being of sound mind, solemnly to attest that her death was occasioned by her having taken part of a phial of laudanum, and 'my' discharging a pistol at her head, provided for the occasion. I took the residue of the laudanum myself, and discharged two pistols at my head. They failing in their effect, I then retired to the house and endeavoured to put an end to my life, leaving myself the unfortunate object you now behold me.

(Signed) "WILLIAM SAWYER." And three witnesses.

The word "my," in the above paper, was interlined.

The prisoner also signed a declaration, that Harriet Gaskett had consented to leave Mr. Riccord and live with him, and that Mr. Riccord had told her, on her threatening to quit him, that she might go to the prisoner's hotel. The reason assigned by him for the attempted suicide and murder was, that Harriet declared that she thought that Mr. Riccord would shoot himself if she quitted him, and that she therefore would not live; and he added, that he had shot her at her own request, and not in consequence of any quarrel with her, and had then attempted to kill himself.

When the prisoner was sufficiently recovered, he was removed to England, where, shortly after his arrival, he was indicted at the Old Bailey, April the 7th, 1815, for the above murder. His case excited great interest, and the court was filled long before the arrival of the judges.

The facts already stated having been proved, the prisoner was called on for his defence. He put in a written paper, in which he stated that, in consequence of his being unable to articulate, from the wound in his throat, he had committed to paper all he had to say in his defence. The paper then went on to state that the prisoner had felt the sincerest affection for the unfortunate individual in question, towards whom he had never meditated the slightest injury. He perfectly recollected her having entreated him to shoot her, but had no idea of what passed subsequently, till some time afterwards, when he was told he had signed papers, of the contents of which he had no recollection. He then expressed acknowledgments for the efforts made by his prosecutors to bring forward Mr. Riccord, who would have been a material witness in his behalf; and had only to lament that these efforts had not been attended with success.

Several persons were called to speak to the general humane character of the prisoner, among whom were General Sir Edward Howard and Colonel Sir William Robe.

A Mrs. Nicholls proved that the deceased had lodged with her from June 1813, to February 1814. She was of a most violent and tyrannical disposition, and had a pistol, which she kept constantly in her room.

Lord Ellenborough having summed up the case, the jury found the prisoner guilty, but recommended him to mercy.

Mr. Alley and Mr. Curwood on behalf of the prisoner then moved in arrest of judgment, upon two technical points which arose upon the face of the indictment, and judgment was respited until the 12th of May. The court on that day, however, gave their opinion that the grounds of motion were unavailable, and sentence of death was immediately passed.

The prisoner appeared deeply affected throughout the proceedings, and upon the awful decision and sentence, remained motionless for some time, when at length he faintly requested one of the officers to entreat the court to recommend him to the royal clemency.

Monday, May the 22d, 1815, being the day appointed for the execution of this infatuated man, at an early hour an immense number of spectators had assembled in the Old Bailey to witness the awful scene. After the sentence of death was passed on him, he assumed a degree of sullenness; and the only declaration he was heard to make was, "that he would not be executed:" and this being considered to import that he was resolved on self-destruction, his intentions, if such they were, were defeated by the constant attendance of two officers night and day. On Sunday he received the sacrament, after which he appeared more composed. About three o'clock his wife went to the prison for the purpose of taking a farewell: she was announced by an officer; but the unhappy man gave a peremptory order that she should not be admitted, and all that could be urged could not induce him to see her. When he went to his cell, he was much depressed, and refused any kind of sustenance; and at about two o'clock he lay down, and soon after became very sick, and vomited copiously. He continued restless until half-past six o'clock, at which time he was visited by the Rev. Mr. Cotton, who prayed to him fervently. A little before eight o'clock Mr. Sheriff Reay, attended by the usual officers, proceeded from Justice Hall towards the cell. The unfortunate gentleman was introduced into the Press-yard by the ordinary: he was very dejected, and did not utter a word during the time of his being conveyed to the platform. At eight o'clock precisely, every necessary arrangement being complete, the fatal signal was given, and the unhappy man was launched into eternity. During the ceremony a profound silence prevailed throughout the populace. He died under evident symptoms of paroxysm, and a quantity of blood gushed from his mouth from the cut in his throat. At nine o'clock the body was taken to Bartholemew's Hospital in a cart, attended by the under-sheriff and officers. He was dressed in a suit of black, and was not ironed.

ELIZABETH FENNING.

EXECUTED FOR ATTEMPTING TO POISON A FAMILY.

The extraordinary interest taken by the public in this case at the time of its occurrence induces us to give it at considerable length, in order that its weight and bearings may be justly appreciated and considered. The propriety of the conviction of the unfortunate young woman was much questioned; and upon a careful perusal of its circumstances we think that at the least it must be concluded that the case was attended with considerable doubt.

It appears that Elizabeth Fenning was born in the island of Dominica, in the West Indies, on the 10th of June, 1793. Her father, William Fenning, was a native of Suffolk, and belonged to the first battalion of the 15th regiment of infantry. Her mother was a native of Cork, in Ireland: her parents were respectable, and she was married to Fenning in 1787, in her native town, where the regiment had been quartered. In 1790 they sailed from the Cove of Cork for the island of Barbadoes, and from thence to Dominica.

In 1796 or 1797 the regiment came home, having suffered great mortality, and were quartered in Dublin. In 1802 Fenning solicited and obtained his discharge, with a certificate of his good character, which it appears he merited, as he rose to the rank of a non-commissioned officer; and he then came to London, and entered the service of his brother, a potato-dealer in Red Lion-street, Holborn, with whom he continued for three years, and afterwards lived as servant in a potato-warehouse in Red Lion Passage, where his correct conduct gave satisfaction to three successive proprietors. His wife, for five years, worked for one upholsterer--a sufficient proof of her good conduct. They had ten children, all of whom, except the subject of this narrative, died young. At the age of fourteen, she was placed out in service to obtain her own living; and at the latter end of January, 1815, she was hired as cook in the family of a Mr. Orlibar Turner, at No. 68, Chancery-lane, where she had not been above seven weeks when circumstances unhappily arose which led to the poor creature's being charged with an attempt to poison her master's family.

The facts of the case will be best explained by the following report of the trial.