Chapter XI: Part 11

Mr. ADOLPHUS said, that the case to which it was now his duty to call the serious attention of the Court and the Jury, was one of the most extraordinary in all its circumstances that had ever presented itself in the annals of crime. He was sorry to say, that it was not of late very extraordinary to find persons base enough to raise the hand of murder against their fellow-creatures without any previously-conceived malice against them,--without being stirred up by passion or ill blood, but solely impelled from the spirit of sordid gain,--a gain not to be derived from the possession of the property of their victim, but from the very being which God gave them; their object being to derive profit from the dead bodies to persons engaged in the prosecution of the science of surgery. This was not, however, the most extraordinary circumstance of the present case; but the many facts which he had to unfold to the Court formed one of the most imposing narratives which had ever fallen to the lot of any man placed in his situation to relate. The person about whose death they had met that day to inquire, was named Caroline Walsh, a native of Ireland, and at the time of her murder had reached the advanced age of eighty-four years. She had been living for some time in Red-lion-court, in company with her grand-daughter, who took care of her. The old woman had no means of existence except the produce which she gained from selling tapes and thread in the streets, which she carried about in a basket, and from such alms as charitable persons chose to bestow upon her. Nevertheless, notwithstanding her advanced age, she was strong and hale, of considerable height, and commanding presence; and, what was remarkable in a woman of eighty-four years of age, she had a perfect set of teeth. They were all uninjured except one tooth, three from the centre, which was slightly broken, and in the cavity of which she used to place her pipe whilst smoking. The colour of her hair was black, mixed with gray. Her dress was also remarkable in many particulars. She wore a chip or willow hat (which had been broken by some injury), a shawl, the colour of which had been discharged by long use, a stuff petticoat, embossed with figures, and her apparel was, upon the whole, very clean for a person in her situation in the world. She had also on a pair of knit stockings, mended at the heels, with a linen shift, darned in many parts. This person had become acquainted with the prisoner at the bar. He understood that the female prisoner was not the wife of the male, but they had lived together as man and wife. They had a son, a pupil in a charity school, who lived at home, but was obliged to go out early in the morning. The female prisoner made herself acquainted with Caroline Walsh, and frequently solicited her to come and live at her house, which the grand-daughter of the old woman had always dissuaded her from doing. On the 19th of August, however, the old woman made up her bed in a bundle, went away, and carried it to Goodman's-yard, from which time all trace was lost of her, except through the medium of some very extraordinary circumstances. She was received by the two prisoners in their house in Goodman's-yard, in the presence of the boy, their son, and he now informed the Jury, that one of the many extraordinary things in this case was, that the judgment to which they might come with respect to the prisoners at the bar depended upon the evidence of that boy, for he was present during the whole of the transaction which was the subject of the present inquiry. That boy would have to come into court, and state facts under the solemn promise of his oath, which might endanger the lives of his father and mother. He hoped he was not insensible to the situation in which he stood, in having to call a son to impeach his own parents; and he was sure the Jury would bear in mind, that if one life had been lost by violent means, the lives of two persons (the prisoners at the bar) were committed to their care. The old woman was well received and kindly treated in the prisoners' house, and coffee was made about nine o'clock, an unusual hour for persons in the prisoners' situation to take that refreshment. Some of the coffee was given to the old woman, who immediately felt herself under the necessity of going to sleep, and she sat down on the bedstead. The woman at the bar then went near to her, held down the old woman's hand, which supported her head, and covered and oppressed her person until she destroyed her life. The man took no share in this transaction by manual operation, but, on the contrary, opened a window, and put his head out of it during the time. The Jury would, however, have to determine whether he, being present, could be unconscious of what was passing, and whether he did not, in fact, so sanction the murder as to make himself a principal in aiding and abetting. After destroying the life of the old woman, the female prisoner, who appeared to be a very strong woman, took the body up and carried it out of the room, and deposited it in the cellar of the house. This cellar was common to every person lodging in the house; but there was one part of it a good deal concealed, and in that part of it the body was placed. The prisoners' son had occasion to go into the cellar next day, and there saw a sack with a head hanging out of it, which he recognized as that of the woman who was in the room with him the night before. The female prisoner was seen with the sack going down Goodman's-yard into the Minories; but what became of the body was not known. He had mentioned that the old woman had a grand-daughter, who had endeavoured to dissuade her relation from going to live with the prisoners. The grand-daughter had particularly desired her relation, when she went to the prisoners, not to leave the place next morning until she, the grand-daughter, called upon her. Accordingly, early in the following morning she went to the prisoners' house, and saw the female prisoner. Upon her inquiring for her grandmother, the female prisoner said that she had gone out; at which she expressed her surprise. The female prisoner added, that they had had a pleasant night of it, that they had had a good supper, and 'there,' she said, 'is the sack which we put the old woman in.' 'What do you mean?' said the grand-daughter. 'Why, we doubled it under her, and put her in the bedstead.' 'That is very extraordinary,' said the grand-daughter, 'for there is her own bed in a corner of the room.' The grand-daughter still pursuing her inquiries, the female prisoner at length turned round on her, and said, 'Do you think we have murdered her?' The grand-daughter replied that it really looked as if they had, and that some inquiry must be made. Some further conversation then took place, and the grand-daughter, whose name was Mrs. Butin, with the view of obtaining more knowledge regarding her relation, agreed to go to a public-house with the female prisoner, where they had some gin and beer; there the matter was a good deal more touched upon, but he would leave the witness herself to describe what took place. The female prisoner left her, and after a time Mrs. Butin went back to the prisoners' lodgings, and found that in the mean time the female prisoner had been very severely beaten. The woman said, 'My husband has beaten me for going to drink with you. He was afraid I should tell something about the woman;' adding something which, as it was not said in the presence of the male prisoner, he could not now repeat. These circumstances created considerable alarm in Mrs. Butin's mind as to the fate of her grandmother. The transaction took place in the month of August last, when there did not exist among the public so much anxiety with respect to a crime which has since obtained the popular name of 'Burking.' Mrs. Butin searched everywhere for her relation, but when she applied to the police-offices she did not meet with much attention; but afterwards, when the public attention had been more strongly directed to that species of crime which he had mentioned, she went to Lambeth-street police-office, and there got the assistance of a clever officer, of the name of Lea, to aid her in her inquiries. All their efforts, however, to discover the old woman were in vain; but a very extraordinary circumstance turned up in the course of their investigation. They went about to the different hospitals, to ascertain whether any body answering the description of Caroline Walsh had been carried there, and they learned that, on the 20th of August, a woman was brought to the London Hospital in a state of great destitution and wretchedness, and that she died on the 2d of September. The name of that woman was Caroline Welsh. This was a very extraordinary coincidence, and was a circumstance with which it was his duty to acquaint the Jury, and of which the prisoners were entitled to all the benefit. The Caroline Welsh was an old woman, she had a basket with her, and bore so many resemblances to Caroline Walsh as, at first sight, seemed to make it difficult to distinguish between the two. But upon pursuing the inquiry further, it was found to be impossible that Caroline Walsh and Caroline Welsh should be one and the same person. The woman who died in the hospital was not at all of a decent appearance. She was found in the streets on the night of the 20th of August, by the beadle, in a state of almost utter destitution and starvation. She was taken to the workhouse of the parish, where she gave no account of who she was or where she lived, and her person was so filthy, and so overrun with vermin, that her clothes were obliged to be taken off and burned. She had on a bonnet, but not a chip or willow bonnet, like Caroline Walsh, but a silk or gauze one; and there were other material distinctions between the two women. When she came to the hospital, it was found that she had broken the cap of her knee, which misfortune rendered it difficult for her to walk, and, probably, tended to produce the disease of which she died. Caroline Walsh, on the contrary, was perfectly well in body, and walked without any infirmity. There was also another striking distinction between the two women: Caroline Walsh had, for a woman of her age, a fair, healthy, and florid complexion, while the person who died in the hospital was so extremely dark, as to make the persons about her believe that she was not of white blood, but of the African cast. He had already mentioned that Caroline Walsh had a regular set of teeth, while the other woman had only two canine teeth in the upper jaw, and none in the lower. Until Lea, the officer, lent his assistance, this inquiry was not efficiently pursued, but when he went to the hospital, he caused the woman's body to be dug up in the month of November, when there was still enough of her remaining to show who and what she was. A great number of persons saw the face and skull, and were able to pronounce at once, that it was not the body of Caroline Walsh. He had already traced Walsh to the prisoners' house, on the 19th of August, since which time she had not been heard of. There was a circumstance which greatly tended to fix the guilt of having unfairly disposed of the old woman, on one or both of the prisoners. Rag-fair was situated in the neighbourhood of Goodman's-yard, and the prisoners were there observed to be offering for sale articles of dress exactly similar to those worn by Mrs. Walsh; and directing the purchasers 'not to let them appear, as they did not want the things to be looked at.' The female prisoner was also seen to sell the very basket which Mrs. Walsh used to carry about with her. It was also a remarkable circumstance, that the pocket worn by Mrs. Walsh, on the 19th of August, had been made by the grand-daughter, and was tendered for sale by the woman at the bar; and he could prove, that the pocket was worn by Mrs. Walsh, not only from Mrs. Butin being able to swear to her own work, but in consequence of its having been seen on her person on the very day she went to the prisoners' house. It appeared, that on the way there she met with a child, for whom she felt much affection, and wishing to give the child something, she lifted her petticoat to get at her pocket, which was observed by a person near, who could swear to the pocket, in consequence of a mark of iron-mould upon it. He had now stated nearly all the facts which would be proved before the Jury. The fate of the prisoners was in their hands, and he had no doubt that, aided by that Providence which overlooked them all, and who seldom permitted deep crimes to go unpunished in this world, they would arrive at a just conclusion. The learned counsel then proceeded to call the evidence.

The first witness called was Edward Cook, the son of the prisoners. As he passed by the bar where they stood, they looked sternly at him, and the mother asked whether 'he had come to tell any more lies?'

EDWARD COOK examined.--Is in Aldgate Charity School; goes backward and forward to the school every morning and night, and comes home to his meals. The prisoners are his father and mother. In August last was living in Goodman's-yard, Whitechapel, in a single room, the garret. Previously lived in Red Lion-court, in the same neighbourhood. Knows Ann Butin; has seen an old woman, a relation of hers, in her company; believes the old woman used to sleep with Ann Butin. The old woman used to carry a basket about the streets with matches in it. On a Friday in August witness saw the old woman in his father's room. Does not know the day of the month; remembers Ann Butin coming to inquire at his father's house; thinks Ann Butin came on the same day as the old woman; first saw the old woman in the afternoon at five, after returning from school; does not know whether the old woman had been in the house before. Witness's mother and father were in the room with the old woman. They were drinking beer, and some coffee was made about nine o'clock. The usual time of taking coffee or tea at home was five or six o'clock. The old woman took one cup of coffee, and afterwards went and laid herself on the bed. Did not notice whether she went to sleep or not. In about half an hour after saw his mother go towards the old woman, and clap her hand on her mouth, and keep it there, perhaps for half an hour. She put the other hand somewhere about the chest. His mother leaned over the woman at the time. Witness observed the woman's eyes rolling--he believed after this his mother took her hands off. He was certain it was when his mother took her hands off. Never saw the old woman speak or move after. Has seen two or three dead persons; the old woman appeared to him to be dead. Believes his father went to the window before his mother went up to the woman. The window was opened by his father, he believed, after the drinking of the coffee. Whilst witness was looking at his mother, he could also see his father. Witness had his back to the fire, and the window opposite him. The bed, which was not very high from the ground, stood between the fire and the window. Heard his mother say something about an hospital; does not know whether she spoke to the old woman or his father. Neither of them gave any answer. Did not hear his father say anything in the course of the evening. His mother carried the old woman out of the room, like a baby in her arms. His father came round the bed to the fire, about half an hour before his mother carried the old woman away. Witness went to bed about twelve o'clock, and did not see his mother any more that night. He awoke in the night and heard some screaming, but would not say whether this occurred on Friday or Saturday. He rose at seven o'clock. Saw his mother in the room, but does not recollect having seen his father. About five minutes before eight o'clock went down to the cellar. Some person had told him that there were ducks there, and went to look for them. Went to the part of the cellar where the stairs stand; it is rather darker there than in the other parts. There is a corner over which the stairs ran. Witness saw a sack in the corner, and some hair hanging out of it. The sack appeared to be tied round the top with some string, but not tied close. The hair was black and grey. Saw his mother take a sack from under the bed; but is not sure whether that day or afterwards. Believes the sack he saw in the cellar was the same. On Saturday night saw his mother going down Goodman's-yard, between eleven and twelve o'clock. She was carrying a sack across her shoulders, with something apparently in it.

Cross-examined.--Witness was twelve years old last Christmas. Continued to attend the charity-school daily until November. Since being taken into custody, has continued at the House of Correction. Has not been questioned, respecting this matter, by any other person, excepting his schoolmaster, and Hawkins, and Steward, two prisoners. Believes no one else has examined him, excepting Mr. Lea, the officer, who asked him a few questions. Has been examined by four or five persons in a private room in the police-office. Cannot say how he recollected that this affair took place on a Friday in August. Never mentioned this matter to any person living in the same house. Does not know whether he had spoken on the subject to any person, previous to being taken into custody. Went to the school on Saturday morning, after having been in the cellar. Saw no other person in the room on Saturday, but his father and mother, and the old woman. Believes his mother fetched the coffee. Witness drunk a little white mugfull. Believes the old woman took a cupfull, but is not sure whether she took any. Does not recollect speaking to his father at all. Next morning witness went to the cellar for the purpose of using the privy, but did not use it. The place where the sack lay under the stairs was darkish, but positively swears that he could not see that the hair protruding from the sack was black and gray. He does not know where he was when he saw his mother carrying the sack in Goodman's-fields; but he believes he was at the window of his room, which was three stories high, and the hour was eleven at night.

Cross-examined by Mr. CHURCHILL.--The cellar and privy were common to every person lodging in the same house. Did not examine the sack.

Re-examined.--Witness would not have seen the sack, if he had gone direct to the privy and back. The cellar is lighted by a window, which had a shutter to it. Thinks that the shutter was open when he went into the cellar.

Mr. Justice PARKE.--Did you not tell Mr. Lea, that you had all of you bread and cheese for supper that night?

Witness.--Does not recollect saying that; thinks he said coffee. Does not recollect saying to Lea that he went to bed at eight o'clock, nor that they all went to bed at that hour. Does not recollect saying that his father came to bed to him, and that the old woman made her bed in the corner. When his mother had her hand on the old woman, he thinks that the countenance of the woman appeared brown and yellow.

_1 The Bed._ _2 The Window._ _3 The Fireplace._ _4 The Table._]

Mr. Justice PARKE.--You said that you had seen dead bodies before this Friday. Where did you see them?

Witness had seen two children, neighbours, lying dead.

By Mr. Justice JAMES PARKE.--Saw no difference in the appearance of the woman's countenance before or after the coffee. Witness did not use the privy when he went into the cellar, and thinks he told the magistrate so. Thinks he has given a different account of this occurrence before. Thinks he told the magistrate that the woman was alive on Saturday morning. He said so because he did not like to tell the truth.

Mr. HENRY REYNOLDS.--Is a surgeon living in Prescott-street. Has heard the account given by the preceding witness of the manner in which the old woman was treated. Such treatment was sufficient to cause death by suffocation. The motion of the eyes might be produced by suffocation. It is generally the last motion of life.

Cross-examined by Mr. CHURCHILL.--It is not a matter of course that there would be a change of countenance after suffocation: that is a circumstance modified by age. Generally speaking, a change takes place.

A plan of the room and cellar was handed to a surveyor, who swore that they were correctly drawn. The room was eleven feet eleven inches from the fire to the window, and lengthways thirteen feet. The bedstead in the room was six feet long and four feet two inches broad. The light thrown into the cellar by the window was obstructed by the stairs.

On cross-examination, the surveyor stated, that the place under the stairs was darker than in other places; but after being in the cellar, the eye became accustomed to the place, and could distinguish any thing lying under the stairs.

EDWARD COOK was recalled, and, in answer to a question, stated that he did not suspect what his mother was doing when she placed her hand on the old woman. Did not see his mother take any clothes off the old woman. Heard his mother say something about some hospital; but does not know what. Said before the magistrate, that his mother told him herself, on Sunday morning, that she took the body to the London Hospital. Witness still declared that his mother did tell him so on Sunday morning.

ELIZABETH JONES.--Is the wife of George Jones. In August last kept a house in Goodman's-yard, in which the prisoner lodged. The privy, in the cellar, was not much frequented, on account of the great number of rats. There was another privy, not in the cellar, which was used by the inmates. The window of the cellar was generally opened about seven o'clock. Remembers an old woman coming to the house, at ten o'clock, on the 19th of August. She was a tall person; but witness did not see her face. She had on a dark stuff gown, a light blue shawl, and a black willow bonnet: her feet were through her stockings, and she wore shoes. Witness, on her first examination, described the shawl to be an old dark one; but upon recollection, knows that the colour was light blue. Witness took particular notice of the woman, on account of her looking poor. Supposed that she had come to lodge in the house, in consequence of her carrying a bundle. Everything behind the woman appeared tidy, but witness did not see her face. Afterwards saw Mrs. Butin--thinks the next morning; Mrs. Butin came to inquire after her grandmother.

Cross-examined by Mr. BARRY.--Witness slept at home on Saturday, the 20th of August.

ANN BUTIN.--Is a married woman. Her husband travels in the country. In August last had a grandmother of the name of Caroline Walsh. She was sixty-four years of age, and very tall. She was a robust and hearty woman. Witness had only known her to be ill one week during the last six years. She lodged with witness in July last, and got her living by selling tapes and laces, which she carried in a basket. She was very cleanly in her appearance. She last saw her on the 19th of August. She then wore a dark gown and light blue shawl, with part of the colour washed out; also a black willow bonnet, broken in the crown, and pinned with two pins. Her petticoat was made of figured stuff. It had the pattern of a leaf. She had an old shift, very much pieced, but of a good colour, also a pair of grey worsted knit stockings. Witness knitted those stockings, which were quite different from what are sold in shops. They were very much broken at the heel, and had been mended. She had on a small pair of men's shoes, which were too large for her, and by slipping wore out the stockings at the heel. Shortly before the 19th of August witness had obtained a lodging-for her grandmother at Mrs. Shaw's. Witness made a pocket for her, which she wore on the 19th of August. Witness saw her grandmother on the 19th of August, about twelve o'clock in the day. Saw her again at five o'clock, in the street, and then found out that she was going to Cook's. On that day witness had called at Cook's at twelve o'clock. Saw a bundle tied up in the room, and found it to contain her grandmother's nightgown and night-cap, small mattress, a rug and sheet. Knows it was the 19th of August, because that was the day on which her sister's child went to nurse. Saw the boy Cook there. He was in the daily habit of seeing her grandmother. Left a message with the boy for her grandmother. At five o'clock met her grandmother in Cutler-street, and was angry with her for going to Cook's. Had tried to persuade her not to go there. Appointed with her to call at Cook's next morning, and told her not to go out till witness came. Her grandmother agreed not to go out. Mrs. Cook had frequently said that she wished witness's grandmother to come and lodge with her. She was very inquisitive. The prisoner knew her to be the granddaughter of Mrs. Walsh. Has never seen her grandmother since the time she parted from her in Cutler-street. Has a sister named Lydia Basy. At nine o'clock went to Mrs. Cook's. Saw the female prisoner in the room. Witness asked her where the old lady was; the prisoner told her that she had just gone. Witness said that she was very much surprised, as her grandmother expected her. Prisoner replied that the old lady had told her so; that she had gone out soon to be soon home, and that they all had a jolly good supper. Witness observed, that she was very glad they had enjoyed themselves, and should take the liberty of asking what they had. The prisoner answered, that they had potatoes and meat, and Cook went out to get something short, to make the old lady comfortable; that Cook seemed very partial to the old lady, and that she slept on the bedstead last night. Witness said that she was very much surprised, as her grandmother had her own bed to sleep on, and had never been in the habit of sleeping with any other person. Witness observed the bundle in the room lying in the same state in which she had left it. The prisoner said that Cook had doubled up that piece of sacking to put the old woman in last night. There was a coarse piece of sacking in the room. Witness expressed her surprise, and asked what she meant. The prisoner replied, that Cook doubled it up, and put it underneath the old woman. The prisoner also said that the old woman had got no shift on; but if witness brought one, she would wash it for the old woman. Witness said that she did not think her grandmother wanted a shift; but if she did, witness offered to give her one. A week before, witness had given her a clean shift and clean cap. Witness asked the prisoner how she came to know that her grandmother had no shift? and said, 'You must have examined her person very close to know that.' The prisoner afterwards said, that witness had a coffee-pot, a frying-pan, and a tub, to give to the old woman. Witness said she would give them to her grandmother when she saw her. Witness and the prisoner then went to Bishop's, a gin-shop, at the corner of Goodman's-yard. They drank some gin and beer. Witness began again to talk of her grandmother. The prisoner observed, 'From what you say, you seem to think that we have murdered the old woman.' Witness said, 'I hope not.' The prisoner repeated, 'From what you say, you think we destroyed her at our place.' Witness said, 'Mrs. Cook, you put the words in my mouth; what I suspect I don't say now, but you shall know of it hereafter.' Prisoner wanted witness to go to her house to have something to eat. Witness refused: but prisoner asked so often, that witness gave her threepence-halfpenny to fetch a loaf and cheese, and promised to take some of it in the public-house. The prisoner went away, and never came back. Witness waited two hours in the public-house, and then went searching for her grandmother for about three quarters of an hour. Witness afterwards pledged a gown, in the name of Welsh, at a pawnbroker's, named Austin. Witness returned to Cook's lodgings about five or six o'clock; both prisoners were present. Witness asked whether the old woman had come home yet. The female prisoner gave no answer to the question; but put up her hand, and told her not to speak. The male prisoner had gone to the window, and this sign was made behind his back. The female prisoner then said softly, 'You must not tell Cook that I was in your company to-day.' The male prisoner in a few minutes after went down stairs. The female prisoner then told witness, that Cook had beaten her most unmercifully.--(She had marks of having been beaten.) The prisoner said that Cook had beaten her for having gone out with her; that Cook had said she had no business to go out looking for the old lady. Witness went several times to Cook's, to inquire for her grandmother; also went to the hospitals and poor-houses, and found nothing of her. Mrs. Cook went with her to one of the poor-houses. On the Monday night saw the man Cook at his house, between six and seven o'clock. The female prisoner was present at the time. Witness told them what she had been doing; and the man said that she had better wait till the month was up, and it was very likely that she might hear of her grandmother, dead or alive, then. The female prisoner asked witness several times to stay all night. The husband could hear what the woman said. The female prisoner said that she (witness) must be tired, and that she might sleep on her grandmother's bed; and perhaps, while she stopped there, her grandmother might come home. Witness replied, that she had her sister's house to go to, and did not wish to stop at Cook's. Witness made some complaint to the police-office; but it was not till October that Lea, the officer, took up the matter. When the prisoners were at Lambeth-street police-office, witness heard the female prisoner say something about 'hot and cold.' What the prisoner said was heard by the magistrate.

Cross-examined.--While her grandmother was living at Shaw's, witness was in the habit of seeing her every other day. The female prisoner told witness that Cook had beaten her unmercifully for going out and getting drunk with her.

WILLIAM AUSTIN.--Is a pawnbroker, living in Houndsditch. He received a gown in pawn, in the name of Welsh, on the 20th of August.

JOHN DRAPER deposed that he took the child of Mrs. Butin's sister to Norwood to be nursed, on the 19th of August.

LYDIA BASY.--Is Mrs. Butin's sister. On the 19th of August went with her grandmother (Mrs. Walsh) between six and seven o'clock, to Mrs. Cook's room. It was on the same day that her child was taken to Norwood. Her grandmother wore a black willow bonnet, rather broken on the top, a blue shawl with a border, and the colour rather washed out, a black stuff gown, a purple-figured stuff petticoat, a pair of grey knitted stockings, and a pair of men's shoes, of a small size. Witness had a child in her arms when she accompanied her grandmother to Cook's. As they were going there, her grandmother put her hand into her pocket, and gave the child a biscuit. Her grandmother in doing so lifted up her petticoat, and witness saw the pocket. Witness's sister made the pocket. There was an iron-mould on the pocket, and a stain on the shoulder of the shawl. Witness left her grandmother at the door of Cook's room; and she had at that time her basket in her hand.

Cross-examined.--Witness's grandmother had never, to her knowledge, been a pauper in a workhouse. Never gave information to the magistrates of the absence of her grandmother.

Mrs. BUTIN recalled, and deposed that she gave information of the absence of her grandmother at the Mansion-house, about a week after the 19th of August.

---- LEA.--Is an officer at Lambeth-street. In consequence of information he received, he went, on Friday, the 28th of October, to White Horse-court, where the prisoners had removed to. He saw the female prisoner coming out of the court, and witness followed her to Rosemary-lane. Mrs. Butin was with the witness, and pointed her out to him. Witness went up to the female prisoner, and told her that she must go before a magistrate respecting an old woman. Then prisoner said, 'that the last she saw of her was on Saturday morning (witness had not previously mentioned the name of any person); that the old lady had given her some halfpence to buy sugar: that she had given the old lady her breakfast before her husband came home, that he might not know it. Witness asked at what time Cook got up? The prisoner replied, between four and five o'clock. She then said, 'Have you got Cook?' Witness asked her where Cook was. She answered, at a tea warehouse at St. Katharine Docks. Witness asked the prisoner at what time she went to bed on the Friday night? She replied, that they all went to bed at nine. Witness inquired what they had for supper? She said, cold meat and coffee. As they were going along, Mrs. Butin asked what they had done with the old woman? She observed, that if she had done anything with her, God burn her soul in h--l's flames; and added, that after giving the old woman her breakfast, she went out and left her and Cook smoking by the fire; and that when she returned she found the room swept up, and the old woman gone. Witness afterwards went to St. Katharine Docks with Mrs. Butin, and called the male prisoner out. Witness pointed out Mrs. Butin, and the prisoner acknowledged that he knew her. Witness told him he must go before a magistrate respecting an old woman who was missing. The prisoner said, 'Very well; it is very proper that it should be inquired into;' he admitted that the old woman was in his room on the Friday night, and said, that she made her bed in the corner of the room. Witness asked at what time he went to bed? He replied about a quarter past eleven o'clock. Prisoner added, they had hot meat and tea. He said, that he saw the old woman at breakfast next morning: he had got up early to go to look for work, and returned about seven o'clock, but he did not recollect whether the old woman was gone before or after he returned. Witness went and apprehended the prisoner's son. The prisoners were confined in three separate cells. A conversation took place between them while so confined. The woman began the conversation. She called out, 'Ned! ask little Ned who told him to say what he has been saying about me?' The man then called to the boy, 'Ned, your mother wishes to know who told you to say what you have about her?' The boy answered, 'Nobody.' The man returned the answer to the woman. She again said, 'Ask Ned how he came to say what he has?' The question was repeated by the man; and the boy called out aloud, 'Why, because she did it.' The woman then said, 'Oh! that we should have to suffer for what we know nothing about.' The man said, 'God knows that I had no hand in it; never mind, there is nothing in this world that we should wish to live for; there will be forgiveness by God at the last moment.' That was the whole of the conversation which took place at that time. On other occasions, the male prisoner said to witness, 'You have had a great deal of trouble about this affair;' and the woman added, 'With all your trouble you have not found the old woman's body yet. All the things which I have sold, the granddaughter brought in a bundle to me.' She said, that that was the old woman (alluding to Mrs. Walsh) who had been taken to Bethnal-green workhouse. He also deposed to having found upon the premises, certain fragments of black stuff, which there was reason to believe had formed part of the apparel which had been worn by the deceased. The discovery was made nearly a month after the prisoners themselves had been taken into custody. He also described at length the depositions of the boy after his apprehension, which did not differ in any material particular, from those which were elicited at his examination in the police office.

MARY LABEL, a clothes-woman in Rosemary-lane, (Rag-fair) proved that the female prisoner had offered her various articles of wearing apparel, immediately subsequent to the date of the murder, and more particularly a pair of home-made lead-coloured worsted stockings, much darned in the heel, which she purchased for fourpence. Stay-laces, a plum-coloured petticoat, a cap, and a shawl, were among the items enumerated. Some were purchased by witness, and others by neighbouring dealers in a similar line of business. The prisoner testified great apprehension lest the goods which she offered for sale, should be seen at the time by any one but the purchaser.

SARAH COTTON, HANNAH CHANNEL, CELIA BURKE, WILLIAM THOMAS ELDER, MARY HAYES, SARAH BRADLEY, MARY GOLEBURGH, and ELIZABETH DUNHAM, respectively corroborated the testimony of the former deponent, all of them earning their livelihood by following the same vocation.

The articles purchased were then produced and identified by the granddaughter, as having constituted part of the personal property of the deceased.

At this stage of the case the counsel for the prosecution called a number of witnesses, for the purpose of showing that one Caroline Walsh, who died a pauper in the London Hospital at the period of the murder, was not the one suspected to have been destroyed by those described in the indictment.

JOHN SKEIG, a parish beadle, stated in evidence, that he found, on the 20th of August, an Irishwoman, named Caroline Walsh, lying on the steps of a hall-door in London-street, Fenchurch-street, apparently so exhausted by sickness and distress, that he resigned her to the care of the superintendent of Hoxton Workhouse, not being able to discover the residence which she mentioned to him as her temporary address.

The surgeon and several nurse-tenders in that establishment deposed, that the old woman so confided to their care, was in a state of such squalid filth and nastiness, that it was found necessary to dispose of all her raiment, by depositing it in the burying-ground. It was also ascertained that her hip-bone was fractured, whereupon she was transferred as a patient to the London Hospital, and shortly afterwards expired.

A professional gentleman and one or two domestics in that institution described minutely her personal appearance, which did not at all correspond with that of the deceased Caroline Walsh. The one was found in a state of loathsome squalidness, whereas the other was particularly cleanly and neat in her appearance. The one wanted her fore teeth, whereas those of the other were wholesome and un-decayed. The feet of the pauper were deformed by bunions and such-like excrescences, but the female supposed to have been murdered was entirely free from such a defect. The one was about sixty years of age, and the other upwards of eighty; and, to leave no doubt whatever upon the subject of identity, the body of the pauper was disinterred in the presence of the granddaughters, who, at once, denied that it bore any resemblance to that of their relation.

The case here closed on the part of the prosecution.

The prisoners, on being called on for their defence, severally put in written papers, asseverating their innocence of the crime with which they were charged, and maintaining that the evidence of their son was a tissue of unnatural and nefarious falsehoods.

Mr. Justice PARKE then proceeded to address the Jury, and summed up the whole of the evidence, having previously explained the state of the law affecting accessories and principals as it applied to cases of murder generally, and more particularly to that which it was their duty to decide upon.

The Jury retired for half an hour, and returned a verdict of _Guilty_ against the female prisoner, acquitting her companion, who was detained for the purpose of being indicted as an accessory after the fact.

The woman was immediately sentenced to death by the Recorder, and ordered to be executed at the usual hour on the following Monday. She did not testify any such emotion as might have been expected, but persevered in protesting her innocence, without, however, offering any plea for the postponement of the execution of her sentence. This wretched woman is Irish, if we may judge by her accent, and her paramour is apparently a native of the metropolis.

Eliza Ross, was on Monday the 9th, executed for the wilful murder of Catherine, alias Caroline Walsh, in front of Newgate. The unhappy woman, though convicted on the evidence of her own son, persisted in asserting that she was innocent of the diabolical act for which she was about to suffer.

All necessary preparations had been made the night before, and a considerable number of constables sworn in to preserve the peace and prevent any accidents. The persons assembled, however, did not exceed the number on ordinary occasions. Shortly after six, the sheriffs and under-sheriffs arrived, for the purpose of visiting the criminal, who had declined all religious consolation from her priest, and begged the attendance of the Rev. Mr. Cotton, the ordinary.

On Sunday, she expressed her wish that Cook and her son should be allowed to visit her, which, however, from motives of prudence, was refused. She retired to rest at an early hour on Sunday night, two females having been placed in the cell with her, but her slumber was frequently broken by half-uttered ejaculations; one of which was--'Oh! Cook, you could have cleared me if you had liked;' another was, 'Oh my child, my deluded child, thus to hang her who suffered for you!'

Upon her being led into the bread-room on the morning of her execution, by Slarks, accompanied by the reverend Ordinary, to be pinioned, she in a firm tone of voice exclaimed, 'Oh, my God! am I going to be hanged for what I am innocent of!' She then walked firmly to the yeomen to be pinioned; and while they were engaged in their sad office, she said, 'Oh, my God! why did I leave my country to be thus treated! Oh, Mr. Wontner, I thought you were more of a Christian than to suffer a poor innocent woman to be hanged. I left my husband and boy sitting with the old woman, and I never saw her after. You have now in your custody one who can prove me innocent, and quite clear me of the charge. Oh, my poor, my deluded child!' Mr. Cotton, at the request of Mr. Sheriff Pirie, again addressed her with a view to elicit an admission of the justice of her sentence, but the only answer returned was, 'I am innocent: I never touched the old woman. Oh, my God, why did I leave my native country, thus to die in a foreign land for what I am guil--innocent, I mean! Oh dear, oh dear!'

On arriving at the foot of the scaffold, she said to Mr. Cotton, 'Pray, Sir, am I going out in the street?' Mr. Cotton answered in the affirmative, and again conjured her, in the name of God, to make her peace with the Father of all mercies; 'All hope of mercy on this earth is past, and a few moments will place you in the presence of him who knows the secrets of all hearts.' She replied, 'I'm innocent;' which she persisted in declaring until the fatal drop fell. She died without a struggle.

A short account of the extraordinary life of this woman, who may with the strictest propriety be stigmatized as a human fiend, may not be without its attendant uses. Her ultimate fate may operate as a serious lesson to those who addict themselves to an indiscriminate use of spirits, for to that revolting and disgusting habit may, in a great degree, be traced all the crimes which the wretch committed, for rather than not satisfy her inordinate passion for drink she would commit the pettiest theft, and she has even been known when her husband has brought her home an ounce of tea, to hurry off to some neighbour and dispose of half of it, in order that she might have the immediate means of purchasing a glass of gin.

She appears to have been early instructed in the crime of murder, for about twenty-six years ago we find her living in a brothel in East Smithfield, at which time a respectable tradesman, a master tailor was missing, and for some time no tidings could be obtained of him. Through the medium of one of the girls who frequented the house, some clue was obtained respecting the fate of the unfortunate man, and in searching the house, he was found dead in one of the cupboards. The master and mistress of the house, with Cook, the servant, were immediately taken into custody, and committed for trial for the wilful murder of the tailor. The trial came on at the Old Bailey, and the evidence, although entirely circumstantial, was so conclusive against the keepers of the brothel, that they were both condemned and executed. Cook was, however, acquitted, although at the time it was the general opinion that she assisted in the murder, and the circumstance of her being known to be in possession of some money immediately after the murder, was in some degree corroborative of her having partaken of the booty which was obtained from the murdered man, to obtain which, it was supposed that his life was sacrificed.

It did not appear on the trial, nor from any of the circumstances that transpired at the time, that this murder was committed with any view to the disposal of the body for the purpose of dissection, and yet little doubt exists that the anatomical schools have been supplied with subjects, the life of which has been forcibly taken away, long before the detection of Burke and his associates. It is not to be supposed that the act of strangling the unfortunate old woman, which led to the conviction and execution of the malefactor Burke, was the only murderous act which he had committed, tempted by the facility with which he could dispose of the bodies of his victims, and the great gain which flowed in upon him from such horrid practices. He himself admits in his confession to the murder of several individuals, all of which were disposed of to the anatomical schools, although the professional men, in an inquiry which was substituted in Edinburgh touching these occurrences, were exculpated from any criminal knowledge of the atrocities committed by Burke and Hare, and, consequently, of the manner in which the subjects which were offered them came by their death. This, however, is not saying much for the value of _post mortem_ examinations, nor for the accuracy of those conclusions to which professional men arrive respecting the cause of the death of an individual, and in which opinion, particularly in our courts of justice, the life of the prisoner is frequently made to depend. To say that the very freshness of the bodies supplied by the Burkers, is not in itself sufficient to excite suspicion, would be at direct variance with the most common experience; for it is at once a distinctive proof that the subject did not die of any mortal disease, nor that it had ever been interred. The idea of the subjects being bodies of suicides, cannot also be rationally entertained, as in that case some preliminary proceedings and an interment must have taken place, before such bodies could have found their way to the dissecting-rooms.

No one will, we presume, pretend to deny, that a burked subject is not more preferable for dissection, than one that has been for some time interred. The former die in the full vigour of the organic functions of life, which being in healthy play to the moment of expiration, leave the arteries, veins, lymphatic vessels and nervous economy so fully distended, that the demonstration of them must be greatly facilitated and more clearly traced than when injections are necessary, or the subject become flabby and on the verge of decomposition; not to mention other personal conveniences, of the absence of any unpleasant olfactory sensation, or the hazard of a scratch from the dissecting-knife, causing an incipient and sometimes fatal mortification, which has happened, we believe, in more than one instance. These circumstances considered, it is not surprising that the Edinburgh murders by Burking, and those which were committed in London previously to the detection of the murder of Carlo Ferrari, were undetected by the demonstrators' sagacity, who might have hoodwinked any suspicion by reflecting on the advantage afforded to the interests of science, as it is termed, but which does not remove from our mind the belief, that there must have been a most disgraceful culpability in anatomists in not having detected the villainous proceedings of the Burkers, by which those wretches furnished bodies for dissection; at the same time that it tends materially to call into doubt the pretensions of the medical profession being able to elucidate the cause of death from _post mortem_ examinations; for if it cannot be perceived that a person had died from strangulation, or suffocation, what hypocrisy must it be to profess they afford the means of ascertaining the remedies of diseases, when it appears that the cause of death cannot be really known. Had Cook, at the time of the murder of the tailor, been acquainted with the ready channel by which she could have disposed of the body, at the same time that it was attended with considerable emolument to herself, it is not probable that the body would have been allowed to remain in the cupboard, to have afforded the immediate instrument of detection, and thereby expose the perpetrators of the deed to an ignominious death.